#yes i love colours and i needed an excuse to use them

[sluttsumu]

DOUBLE TROUBLE

.ೃ࿐ feat. atsumu + osamu miya

in which: the twins have a little bet, and you’re their next target. who can make you cum the most on halloween night without anyone knowing, keep quiet virgin or you’ll get caught.

warning: 18+, college!au, fratboy!inarizaki, oblivious!reader, non+ dubcon/peer pressure, threesome, corruptive thoughts, misogyny (?), manipulation, drugs (molly), vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, unprotected, petname: angel, oral (f!receiving + m!receiving), virginity loss, exhibitionism + voyeurism, implied orgy (with suna), sunaosa TEASE, they’re sleazy hoes. wc: 2k

ೃ࿐ ki’s note: this is fic was supposed to kickstart my kinktober series. i hope you love this as much as i do because i had the best time writing it! in my mind it’s still october 😭 divider: @cafekitsune

two devils, one angel, and fate. being a virgin sacrifice wasn’t necessarily on your halloween bucket list for this year.

— ♡︎ —

“can’t think of anyone to bring ‘samu ?” atsumu piqued, osamu is supposed to be the smart one.

the infamous twins had been thinking for some time on who to invite to their annual halloween party.

there were plenty of guests, but they needed someone special for the night.

atsumu’s fucked half of the bimbos from his fan club, meanwhile osamu was never satisfied with any of his groupies.

“well,” he starts. “i have an idea.” the light bulb in his head flickered before finally going off when he thought of the perfect girl. the dainty little college freshman whom he sees walking around campus all dolled up.

“who’s that girl that we always see with sunarin?” he ponders, in attempt to remember your name. atsumu’s eyes lit up when he realized. he knew exactly who his brother was talking about.

osamu really was a genius.

“y/n..” his tone was unsure, but curious nonetheless. osamu shot a finger gun “bingo.” indicating that his atsumu was right on the money. they paused, staring at one another as if they were reading each others minds. twin telepathy surely was a blessing. if they were both thinking correctly it seems like they’ve got a target.

*incoming facetime from; suna rintaro*

“yes suna?” you answer holding the phone above your face. “what’re you doing tomorrow?” the abrupt question never threw you off anymore, it was common for suna taking you on all kinda of spontaneous adventures on and off campus.

“ ‘m not doing anything, gonna watch horror movies and eat candy.” suna eyed you feigning disgust, what lame plans. “absolutely not..” he scoffs, “the twins invited you to their party tomorrow and you’re going.” the miya twins were mutual friends and have been known to throw some awesome ragers from time to time, how could you decline such an offer?

“i don’t have a costume???” honestly you were trying to find any excuse possible to lessen your chances of coming home wasted on halloween night. but suna had a solution to everything, even this. “wear white, i’ll sort out the rest.” he hung up after the condescending message, leaving you to piece together his surprise.

white, the colour of purity and innocence. nothing is innocent about a college party, especially because,

halloween was the one night a year a girl could dress like a total slut, and no one could say anything about it.

a firm knock was set on your dorm room door. “let’s go” his eyes fixated as you opened the door. suna mildly regrets not taking up the twins’ offer to join them on their escapade tonight, especially with the way that dress hugs your body. he quickly releases himself from the dirty thoughts.

“okay, what’s my costume? you said wear white.” suna’s hand rises from his side revealing a halo. makes sense why he told you to wear white now. it wasn’t until you took in his costume that really made you understand his choice.

he’s dressed in a red button up, except the buttons weren’t being used at all. the devil horns stuck in his hair confirmed the unoriginal costume idea. a few days back he mentioned matching costumes with the rest of his fraternity, and if you had to see the rest of them like this, than you were sure that attending this party was worth it.

the house was loud, as much as it was crowded, suna’s hand around your wrist is the only thing preventing you from getting caught in the ocean of people.

“sunarin! we’re over here.” pi kappa alpha (ΠΚΑ) was one of seven frats at your university, and was definitely the hottest. pretty, rich boys with the world at their disposal. everyone knew this but that never stopped girls from clinging onto them, after all osamu’s arms and atsumu’s abs— focus!

“ah, you made it.” osamu exclaimed opening his arms for a particularly tight hug. you hugged all of them, each cologne scent different from the last. “mind if we steal rin for a minute? won’t be long, promise.” atsumu’s tone of voice couldn’t have been more condescending, talking to you so sweet and saccharin. you nodded, shooting the quintet a small smile, before going to find a drink.

“an angel, cute.” atsumu watched your back was you walked away into a crowd of people. all that clouded his thoughts were all the things he wanted to do to you throughout the night. “get yer head intha game. what are the rules?” osamu chuckled, it was no doubt that he was having the same thoughts as his brother. that’s for sure.

“ ‘ts 10:30, whoever can make her cum the most before midnight first wins. unless you fuck her that is.. she’s a virgin so if you manage to to take her virginity you automatically win. get caught and you have to restart.” the night is young and the rules were set, but there was one question unanswered, whats the prize for a game such as this?

money of course. sex and money have been interchangeable for as long as mankind can remember, no difference here. a thousand dollars put up by each member, totalling to five thousand. winner takes all, loser gets nothing. may the best twin win.

atsumu wasted no time following you to the kitchen hearing the laughs from his friends behind. unfortunate for him bokuto caught your attention a little too quickly. he watched the two of you laugh and introduce yourselves to one another. it wouldn’t go on for much longer, not if atsumu could help it.

“bo-kun! do me a favor would’ya?” he said, slinging an arm over your shoulder. “get some more ice for the cooler, ‘ts intha basement.”

in boy world, this was a territorial interaction meaning; get the fuck out of here.

meanwhile in girl world, you didn’t think anything of it.

bokuto cheerfully agreed uttering “nice meeting you!” before sliding past the crowd of people to go fetch that ice.

“cute costume miya.” you look up to see him above your shoulder. he unhooks his arm from your side, leaning up against the counter. “not too bad yourself. you look,” he pauses for a mere few seconds. thoughts of you and how innocent you look plagued his mind, costume doesn’t help either. something in him was excited to taint that, you’d look so much prettier with your makeup smudged and begging him to make you cum, he thought.

“pretty,” he smiled, eyes shifting around your lips, and neck then back to your eyes. “you look really fucking pretty.”

“nights still young, you like games?” you tilted your head at the question. a suspicious question but how could anyone say no to him. “dependsss..” you drag out the word, tone laced with hesitation. this was all one big game, that you unfortunately didn’t know you were apart of, throwing another in the mix couldn’t hurt.

“how do ya feel about suck and blow?”

—♡︎—

suna forcefully offered up kita’s amex for the game, safe to say that he’s not happy about it.

the game rules were simple; suck and blow, on a card that is. pass the card mouth to mouth without dropping it. drop it and make out with the next person in front of everyone and spend an additional 10 minutes in an enclosed space. sounds easy right? it wasn’t a pi kappa alpha party without this tradition, they have a separate room dedicated for games such as these.

you watched intensely as the card made its rounds over and over you successfully received and passed it on. you were also standing between atsumu and bokuto, yikes! the card was making its way back around and like before it was just a matter of sucking and blowing, until you were locking lips with one of the hottest guys on campus. atsumu ‘dropped the card’ by accident, catalyzing the makeout sesh between the two of you.

it’s hot, it’s sloppy, it’s fucking miya atsumu.

you feel his smile on your lips as he slips his tongue in between yours, aiming for your bottom lip. the whooping, and whistling among the group was enough to encourage the egotism within you both to put on a nice show for everyone. your nails intertwining in his undercut, while his arms hug your waist.

“okay okay,” kita pushes, removing the two of you off of each other. “10 minutes, you know the drill.”

the frat brothers exchange a glance, one of many kita has shared with his little since atsumu started college.

the amount of girls that have survived that room, godspeed.

hearing the door close behind you was almost frightening, even after the spectacle you put on for everyone just now. it wasn’t until you took a few steps in you noticed this is a bedroom, not your average stuffy coat closet.

“suna teach you to kiss like that or what?” he teases, watching you stare at him in disbelief. “can’t believe he hasn’t fucked you yet.”

guess i’ll be the first, he thought.

suna? fucking you? confusion was an understatement really. unbeknownst to you they all thought you were sunas secret fuck buddy till he told them you were untouched.

atsumu almost forgot, and the realization ran through his blood with pure mischief. he was ready to get his hands on you and play with his toy of the night.

“let’s have some fun, yea?” he quips, walking towards you. “fun like what?” unintentionally you take a step back, the two of you flowing in a seamless b-line towards the bed as he goes forward and you go back.

“you’re a big girl right? in college now. ya know what big girls do?” his tone was informative signalling that there’s more to his mini monologue. “big college girls…kiss, and suck, and fuck boys.”

the smooth of your calves hit the sheets.

“a-atsumu i’m—” you’re a stuttering mess, and he finds it adorable.

“you’re what?” he mocks, lifting his voice up an octave to replicate you. it was only a matter of seconds before you were pushed onto the bed with his body caging yours beneath him.

it was all happening so fast, it’s not that you didn’t want to but this has never happened before. being stuck in a room with a guy especially an experienced one was never on you to-do list for today.

atsumu’s done this to many girls. he’s used to fucking bitches every week and you were no different. he never looses and he’s damn sure nothing will change that tonight.

“i’ve never done this before…” shame drowns your conscience as you confess what you thought was a secret. little did you know, he knew.

“s’okay,” his lips pecked against your jaw lightly, he could feel how tense you were but curious as well. “just wanna make you feel good, hmm?” you could feel atsumu’s hand creeping between your thighs though his eyes never leaving yours. this look on your face, the look of a virgin, never gets old for him.

the inquisitive look of “maybe it’s not so bad” staring back at him as he pulls your panties to the side running his fingers along your wet folds. you didn’t protest, or squirm, or defy, you just laid there beady eyes staring, legs spread for him awaiting his touch.

simultaneously, his fingers slide into you with ease while sharing a kiss to keep you quiet, earning a soft moan onto his lips. your body can’t help but concentrate at the foreign feeling of someone else other than yourself fingering you. “ahhh—! s-slow down ‘tsumu, too much!”

“no can do angel, got a lot ridin’ on ya.” completely dismissing your feelings, he continues to pump his fingers into your leaking cunt. “hurts..” you whine. “atsumu it hurts!”

“don’t lie ta me pretty, i can feel you clenching ‘round me.” your face flushed at his words, fluttering around his fingers. besides the slight discomfort it felt so fucking good, you really couldn’t get enough of it.

the humiliation you felt hearing the lewd squelching of his digits fingerfucking you was apparent. you watched in awe as he sped up, arm now jackhammering in and out of you at an ruthless pace. “fuckfuckfuck!” you cry, eyes brimming with tears.

atsumu traps your lips in a messy kiss, tasting a mixture alcohol on each others tongues. whines and whimpers escape fall from your lips onto his at the feeling of the coil in your stomach about to break. the euphoria that overcomes your body when your legs begin to tremble, thighs squeezing around his hand, your virgin cunny covers his fingers in sticky cum.

but his assault on your pussy doesn’t stop there, he’s still going; fucking you through your orgasm. “can’t stop there, you can give me another one baby, know you can.”

“no! c-can’t take it! i—” his hand quickly cups around your lips, muffling any sound that dares to come out of your mouth. time’s almost up and atsumu would throw more than a fit if he got caught and had to restart already.

he could feel it again, your pussy clenching around his fingers. atsumu continued at his gruelling pace, with a slick smile on his face. It was so cute seeing you like this, half an hour ago you walked into this party as an innocent little thing, and now he had you exactly where he wanted you — under him with his fingers buried inside of you, on your second orgasm.

“cumming… ‘m cumming—!” you mumble under the weight of his hand, eyes fluttering shut. “atta-fucking-girl angel.” your chest heaved and knees buckled while you creamed on the blondes fingers once more this time at full force, making you see stars before he pulled out of you.

“wasn’t so hard now was it?” he smiled sucking your slick off of his fingers. atsumu is now leading by two points and cocky was an understatement, he can feel himself growing hard watching your body go limp against the sheets. if he had the time, he’d take you right then and there but there was always an opportunity for that.

“make yourself decent before you come out.” was the last thing he said to you, chuckling while the door clicked shut behind him.

get yourself together! the sound of your own voice mentally cursing you was enough to spring you back to your feet, pulling your dress down, and fixing your hair. luckily for you, everyone continued their conversations, dancing, and games as you crept out the room exhaling heavily with relief.

a few eyes lingered, especially kita’s. he peered at you from afar, while atsumu whispered in his ear. he raised the red solo cup with an upward tilt of his head before smirking in your direction, taking a sip from the cup.

frat boys are just the equivalent to mean girls.

hell, it hasn’t even been five minutes and he’s already going around telling everyone. you couldn’t bare to see it really, causing you to relocate somewhere else in the house, the stairs.

you sat on the wooden steps, eyes glued onto your phone screen. the feeling of someone walking down was evident as the hardwood took a dip at the weight, it was osamu.

he pondered, swirling the liquid courage in his hand. how could he get you on his white linen sheets? he thought. osamu smirked at the idea that popped into his head soon after remembering the common denominator between his bed and that dress you’re wearing.

starring at your back from a few steps above, his eyes moveded to suna who was situated mere meters away from where you sat. he feigns tipping his cup, eyes pointing down to where you sat then back to the brunette.

it was genius, if he ruins that pretty little dress of yours you’ll have no choice but to take it off.

“do it.” suna mouthed covering his words with a cupped hand.

the weight of someone walking down the stairs returns after having paused, you didn’t think much of it until alcohol poured down your shoulder and into your bra from above you.

“sorry angel! that was my bad.” osamu quips, downing the rest of his cup.

“you’ve got to be kidding me..”

“relaaax,” he drawls before reassuring that “you can come change up here.”

—♡︎—

osamu scanned his closet looking for one of his old flings’ clothes murmuring, “no-no-no-too big-too small— damn i should call her..” as he looks through the assortment of clothing.

you waited on his bed partly disgusted at the fact that these clothes were equivalent to trophies.

“check that drawer ta’ your left for something.” he gestures a waving hand, pointing to the side table next to his bed.

the drawer was less then helpful, containing: condoms, an agent provocateur set (brand new, mind you), a bottle of dior sauvage, and a miniature plastic bag with two smiley face pills in it.

he has drugs just laying in his room?

“what’re these?” prodding at the drugs you ask, dangling the bag between delicate fingers.

he turns to face you, smirking when he sees what caught your curiosity. “a pretty girl named, molly.” osamu banged a girl with that name now that he thinks about it.

“you guys seriously take these?” eyes narrowing at the tiny pill analyzing it’s appearance, but wanting to know more at the same time. “are they fun?”

osamu closes the closet door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. his attention is focused elsewhere when you display genuine interest in the party drug.

“wanna find out?” he asks with the tilt of his head.

fuck around and find out was an understatement, getting fucked after finding out was more accurate really.

“fuuuuck ‘samu..” your manicure runs through silver hair, as he messily laps at your cunt.

every flick of his tongue making your knees buckle, the pleasure was overwhelming your lower half as he teased your clit with the tip his tongue.

you couldn’t get over how good it feels, what was the point of staying a virgin when there’s men who will pleasure you like the miya twins.

“pussy tastes s’good princess.” he mumbles onto you, sending vibrations up your spine, continuing to eat you like you’re his last meal.

he could feel now eager you were to get off, grinding yourself against his face in hopes to chase the orgasmic high that your body was so close to.

the loud noises of his mouth smothered against your pussy and broken whimpers fill up the room.

loud enough for suna to hear through the bedroom door he’s standing on the other side of. he could feel his erection growing, listening to his best friend taint his virgin girl bestie on the most sinister night of the year.

“righthererighthere! ‘m cumming— oh fuck!” the euphoric feelings of the drug in your system enhanced every last nerve running through your veins.

you’re loud, high pitched whines falling from your throat as you throw your head back, eyes shutting tight.

osamu’s face pushed into your cunt with force, nose nudging at your clit. little did the two of you know, the brunette purposely walked into the room with you on the verge of a mind blowing orgasm and osamu’s mouth quite busy.

“you cumming?” suna asks, gripping your face with slender fingers.

your eyes shoot open to see one of his hands planted on the back of osamu’s head pushing his mouth deeper into your pussy, the other holding your face, taunting from above.

“oh yea, you’re fucked.” he taunts, pushing your lips into a kissy face forcefully moving your head from side to side, observing your features.

suna’s done his fair share to know you weren’t all there, your dilated pupils, flushed face and very vulnerable state gave it away.

“don’t be shy, go on. might be ‘samu going to town on ya but your attentions on me, hmm?”

seeing you tweaked out on the verge of your third orgasm of the night really did it for him.

it was torture, watching and hearing the twins have their fun with you meanwhile he had to watch.

absolutely no fair. he’s the reason you even considered coming to the party at all it wouldn’t be all that bad if he used you as a reward for his efforts, now would it?

“rin!!” you whine, “get out! this is embarrassing!”

suna doesn’t bother listening to your protest. he’s already slid his shirt off, unbuckling his belt watching osamu make you cum.

“move it.” he chuckles, tugging at grey locks.

“hey, i had her first.” osamu scoffs at his friends audacity.

“technically atsumu had her first, but it’s my turn. so, are you gonna keep bitchin’ or get your dick sucked while i fuck her?”

the two boys spoke as of you weren’t even there, like you were just an object for them to play with. this wasn’t about the bet anymore. this was about you, and the fact that they’d never get the opportunity to see your tweaked out, legs spread, off molly ever again.

a once in a lifetime opportunity with you in a position to not protest.

suna’s shadow hovered over you, manipulating your body to fit both of them on osamu’s mattress.

hazy eyes stared into his green ones with incoherent mumbles falling from your lips. seeing you fucked out made him want it that much more.

“hang in there for us pretty.” his voice sounding so sincere, meanwhile rubbing the tip of his cock along your slit.

he pushes into you without warning, stretching your cunt around his girth.

“shit..” he hisses through his teeth. “definitely a virgin, fuck.”

“ah—!” your hand flies to his chest in attempt to get him to slow down. “s’too much..”

“none of that,” osamu coos, grabbing your wrist.

you didn’t even notice that he slid his boxers off, smearing precum on your lips like lipgloss.

“hey ‘samu where’s the—” atsumu says, swinging the door open to the lewdest live scene he’s ever seen. “holy hell.”

“are you gonna stare or join?”

sluttsumu 2023

[wilcze-kudly]

Hey so can we like stop with the "Zutara is for the girls and Kataang is for the boys" thing. It's silly and it's breakdancing just on the edge of gender essentialism.

The assumption that there is something inherent to Zutara that appeals predominantly to women and Kataang that appeals predominantly to men is dishonest because every ship can have appeal to all genders.

The discussion of the "female gaze" in Zutara and the "male gaze" in Kataang is also redundant. I enjoy dissecting the concept of "the gaze", however it is important to note that the "female gaze" doesn't have a set definition or grouping of conventions it adheres to. Lisa French,  Dean of RMIT University’s School of Media and Communication says:

“The female gaze is not homogeneous, singular or monolithic, and it will necessarily take many forms... The aesthetic approaches, experiences and films of women directors are as diverse as their individual life situations and the cultures in which they live. The "female' gaze” is not intended here'to denote a singular concept. There' are many gazes."

Now excuse me as I put on my pretentious humanistics student hat.

Kataang's appeal to women and the female gaze

Before I start, I want to note that the female gaze is still a developing concept

There are very few female film directors and writers, and most of them are white. The wants and desires of women of colour, the demographic Katara falls into, are still wildly underepresented. Additionally, the concept of the female gaze had many facets, due to it being more focused on emotional connections rather than physical appearance as the male gaze usually is. Which means that multiple male archetypes fall into the category of "for the female gaze".

The "female gaze" can be best described as a response to the "male gaze", which was first introduced by Laura Mulvey in her paper: "Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema" , however the term "male gaze" itself was not used in the paper.

Mulvey brought up the concept of the female character and form as the passive, objectified subject to the active voyeuristic male gaze, which the audience is encouraged to identify, usually through the male character.

To quote her:

"In a world ordered by sexual imbalance', pleasure' in looking has been split between active'/male' and passive/female'. The determining male gaze' projects its fantasy onto the female' figure', which is styled accordingly."

Mulvey also brings up the concept of scopopfillia (the term being introduced by Freud), the concept of deriving sexual gratification from both looking and being looked at. This concept has strong overtones of voyeurism, exhibitionism and narcissism, placing forth the idea that these overtones are what keeps the male viewer invested. That he is able to project onto the male character, therefore being also able to possess the passive female love interest.

However, it's important to note that Mulvey's essay is very much a product of its times, focused on the white, heterosexual and cisgender cinema of her time. She also drew a lot of inspiration from Freud's questionable work, including ye ole penis envy. Mulvey's paper was groundbreaking at the time, but we can't ignore how it reinforces the gender binary and of course doesn't touch on the way POC, particularly women of colour are represented in film.

In her paper, Mulvey fails to consider anyone who isn't a white, cis, heterosexual man or woman. With how underrepresented voices of minorities already are both in media and everyday life, this is something that we need to remember and strive to correct.

Additionally Mulvey often falls into gender essentialism, which I previously mentioned at the beginning of this post. Funny how that keeps coming up

"Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema" started a very interesting and important conversation, and I will still be drawing from certain parts of it, however huge swathes of this text have already become near archaic, as our culture and relationship with media evolves at an incredible pace.

And as filmaking evolves, so does our definition of the male and female gaze. So let's see what contemporary filmakers say of it.

In 2016, in her speech during the Toronto International Film Festival , producer of the TV series Transparent, Jill Soloway says:

“Numero uno, I think the Female Gaze is a way of “feeling seeing”. It could be thought of as a subjective camera that attempts to get inside the protagonist, especially when the protagonist is not a Chismale. It uses the frame to share and evoke a feeling of being in feeling, rather than seeing – the characters. I take the camera and I say, hey, audience, I’m not just showing you this thing, I want you to really feel with me.

[Chismale is Soloway's nickname for cis males btw]

So the term "female gaze" is a bit of a misnomer, since it aims to focus on capturing the feelings of characters of all genders. It's becoming more of a new way of telling stories in film, rather than a way to cater to what white, cisgender, heterosexual women might find attractive in a man.

Now, Aang is the decided protagonist of the show, however, Atla having somewhat of an ensemble cast leads to the perspective shifting between different characters.

In the first episode of atla, we very much see Katara's perspective of Aang. She sees him trapped in the iceberg, and we immediately see her altruism and headstrong nature. After she frees Aang, we are very much first subjected to Katara's first impressions of him, as we are introduced to his character. We only see a sliver of Aang's perspective of her, Katara being the first thing he sees upon waking up.

We see that she is intrigued and curious of him, and very excited about his presence. She is endeared and amused by his antics. She is rediscovering her childish side with his help. She is confiding in him about her own trauma surrounding the Fire Nation's genocide of the Southern Waterbenders. She is willing to go against her family and tribe ans leave them behind to go to the Northern Water Tribe with Aang. We also see her determination to save him when he is captured.

As the show moves on and the plot kicks into gear, we do shift more into Aang's perspective. We see his physical attraction to her, and while we don't see Katara's attraction quite as blatantly, there are hints of her interest in his appearance.

This is where we get deeper into the concept of Aang and Katara's mutual interest and attraction for one another. While her perspective is more subtle than most would like, Katara is not purely an object of Aang's desire, no more than he is purely an object of her desire.

When analysing this aspect of Katara and Aang's relationship, I couldn't help but be reminded of how Célene Sciamma's Portrait of a lady on fire (in my personal opinion, one of the best studies of the female gaze ever created) builds up its romance, and how it places a strong emphasis on the mutuality of the female gaze.

Portrait of a lady on fire's cinematography is very important to the film. We see the world through the perspective of our protagonist, a painter named Marianne. We also see her love interest, Héloïse, the woman whom she is hired to paint a portrait of, through Marianne's lense.

We see Marianne analyse Héloïse's appearance, her beauty. We look purely through Marianne's eyes at Héloïse for a good part of the movie, but then, something unexpected happens. Héloïse looks back. At Marianne, therefore, in some way, also at the audience. While Marianne was studying Héloïse, Héloïse was studying Marianne.

We never shift into Héloïse's perspective, but we see and understand that she is looking back at us. Not only through her words, when she for example comments on Marianne's mannerisms or behaviours, but also hugely through cinematography and acting of the two amazing leads. (Noémie Merlant as Marianne and Adèle Haenel as Héloïse. They truly went above and beyond with their performances.)

This is a huge aspect of the female gaze's implementation in the film. The camera focuses on facial expressions, eyes and body language, seeking to convey the characters' emotions and feelings. There's a focus on intense, longing and reciprocated eye contact (I have dubbed this the Female Gays Gaze.). The characters stand, sit or lay facing each other, and the camera rarely frames one of them as taller than the other, which would cause a sense of power imbalance.

The best way to describe this method of flimaking is wanting the audience to see the characters, rather than to simply look at them. Sciamma wants us to empathise, wants us to feel what they are feeling, rather than view them from a distance. They are to be people, characters, rather than objects.

Avatar, of course, doesn't display the stunning and thoughtful cinematography of Portrait of a Lady on Fire, and Katara and Aang's relationship, while incredibly important, is only a part of the story rather than the focus of it.

However, the 'Kataang moments' we are privy to often follow a similar convention to the ones between Marianne and Héloïse that I mentioned prior.

Theres a lot of shots of Katara and Aang facing each other, close ups on their faces, particularly eyes, as they gaze at one another.

Katara and Aang are often posited as on equal grounds, the camera not framing either of them as much taller and therefore more powerful or important than the other. Aang is actually physically shorter than Katara, which flies in the face in usual conventions of the male fantasy. (I will get to Aang under the male gaze later in this essay)

And even in scenes when Aang is physically shown as above Katara, particularly when he's in the Avatar state, Katara is the one to pull him down, maintaining their relationships as equals.

Despite most of the show being portrayed through Aang's eyes, Katara is not a passive object for his gaze, and therefore our gaze, to rest upon. Katara is expressive, and animated. As an audience, we are made aware that Katara has her own perspective. We are invited to take part in it and try to understand it.

Not unlike to Portrait of a Lady on Fire, there is a lot of focus placed on mannerisms and body language, an obvious example being Katara often playing with her hair around Aang, telegraphing a shy or flustered state. We also see her express jealousy over Aang, her face becoming sour, brows furrowed. On one occasion she even blew a raspberry, very clearly showing us, the audience, her displeasure with the idea of Aang getting attention from other girls.

Once again, this proves that Katara is not a passive participant in her own relationship, we are very clealry shown her perspective of Aang. Most of the scenes that hint at her and Aang's focus on their shared emotions, rather than, for example, Katara's beauty.

Even when a scene does highlight her physical appearance, it is not devoid of her own thoughts and emotions. The best example of this being the scene before the party in Ba Sing Se where we see Katara's looking snazzy in her outfit. Aang compliments her and Katara doesn't react passively, we see the unabashed joy light up her face, we can tell what she thinks of Aang's comment.

In fact, the first moment between Katara and Aang sets this tone of mutual gaze almost perfectly. Aang opens his eyes, and looks at Katara. Katara looks back.

There is, once again, huge focus on their eyes in this scene, the movement of Aang's eyelids right before they open draws out attention to that part of his face. When the camera shows us Katara, is zooms in onto her expression as it changes, her blinking also drawing attention to her wide and expressive eyes.

This will not be the first time emphasis is placed on Katara and Aang's mutual gaze during a pivotal moment in the show. Two examples off the top of my head would be the Ends of B2 and B3 respevtively. When Katara brings Aang back to life, paralleling the first time they laid eyes on one another. And at the end of the show, where their gaze has a different meaning behind it.

We see Katara's emotions and her intent telegraphed clearly in these instances.

In Book 1, we see her worry for this strange bald boy who fell out of an iceberg, which melts away to relief and a hint of curiosity once she ascertains that he isn't dead.

In B2 we once again see worry, but this time it's more frantic. Her relationship with Aang is much dearer to her heart now, and he is in much worse shape. When we see the relief on her face this time, it manifests in a broad smile, rather than a small grin. We can clearly grasp that her feelings for Aang have evolved.

In B3, we step away from the rule because Aang isn't on the verge of death or unconsciousness for the first time. It is also the first time in a situation like this that Aang isn't seeing Katara from below, but they are on equal footing. I attribute this to symbolising change of pace for their relationship.

The biggest obstacle in the development of Katara and Aang's romance was the war, which endangered both their lives. Due to this, there was a hesitance to start their relationship. In previous scenes that focused this much on Aang and Katara's mutual gaze, Aang was always in a near dead, or at least 'dead adjacent' position. This is is a very harsh reminder that he may very well die in the war, and the reason Katara, who has already endured great loss, is hesitant to allow her love for him to be made... corporeal.

However, now Aang is standing, portraying that the possibily of Katara losing him has been reduced greatly with the coming of peace, the greatest obstacle has been removed, and Katara is the one to initiate this kiss.

Concurrently, Katara's expression here does not portray worry or relief at all, because she has no need to be worried or relieved. No, Katara is blushing, looking directly at Aang with an expression that can be described as a knowing smile. I'd argue that this description is accurate, because Katara knows that she is about to finally kiss the boy she loves.

Ultimately, Katara is the one who initiates the kiss that actually begins her and Aang's romantic relationship.

Kataang's appeal to women is reflected in how Katara is almost always the one to initiate physical affection with Aang. With only 3 exceptions, one of which, the Ember Island kiss being immediately shown by the narrative as wrong, and another being a daydream due to Aang's sleep deptivation. The first moment of outwardly romantic affection between Aang and Katara is her kissing his cheek. And their last kiss in the show is also initiated by Katara.

I won't falsely state that Kataang is the perfect representation of the female gaze. Not only because the storyline has its imperfections, as every piece of media has. But also because I simply belive that the concept of the female gaze is too varied and nebulous to be fully expressed. With this essay, I simply wanted to prove that Kataang is most certainly not the embodiment of catering to the male gaze either. In fact it is quite far from that.

The aspects of Kataang that fall more towards embodying the female gaze don't just appeal to women. There's a reason a lot of vocal Kataang shippers you find are queer. The mutual emotional connection between Katara and Aang is something we don't have to identify with, but something we are still able to emphasise with. It's a profound mutual connection that we watch unfold from both perspectives that sort of tracends more physical, gendered aspects of many onscreen romances. You just need to see instead of simply look.

✨️Bonus round✨️

Aang under the gaze

This started off as a simple part of the previous essay, however I decided I wanted to give it it's own focus, due to the whole discourse around Aang being a wish-fullfilling self insert for Bryke or for men in genral. I always found this baffling considering how utterly... unappealing Aang is to the male gaze.

It may surprise some of you that men are also subjected to the male gaze. Now sadly, this has nothing to do with the male gaze of the male gays. No, when male characters, usually the male protagonist, are created to cater to the male gaze, they aren't portrayed as sexually desirable passive objects, but they embody the active/masculine aide of the binary Laura Mulvey spoke of in the quote I shared at the beginning of this essay.

The protagonist under the male gaze is not the object of desire but rather a character men and boys would desire to be.

They're usually the pinnacle of traditional, stereotypical masculinity.

Appearance wise: muscular but too broad, chiseled facial features, smouldering eyes, depending on the genre wearing something classy or some manner of armour.

Personalitywise they may vary from the cool, suave James Bond type, or a more hotblooded forceful "Alpha male" type. However these are minor differences in the grand scheme of things. The basis is that this protagonist embodies some manner of idealised man. He's strong, decisive, domineering, in control, intimidating... you get the gist. Watch nearly any action movie. There's also a strong focus placed on having sway or power over others. Often men for the male gaze are presented as wealthy, having power and status. Studies (that were proved to be flawed in the way the data was gathered, I believe) say that womem value resources in potential male partners, so it's not surprising that the ideal man has something many believe would attract "mates". [Ew I hated saying that].

Alright, now let's see how Aang holds up to these standards.

Well... um...

Aang does have power, he is the Avatar. However, he is often actually ignored, blown off and otherwise dismissed, either due to his age or his personality and ideals being seen as unrealistic and foolish. Additionally, Aang, as a member of a culture lost a century ago, is also often posited as an outsider, singled out as weak, his beliefs touted as the reason his people died out and.

Physically, Aang doesn't look like the male protagonist archetype, either. He isn't your average late teens to brushing up against middle aged. Aang is very much a child and this is reflected in his soft round features, large eyes and short, less built body. This is not a build most men would aspire to. Now, he still has incredible physical prowess, due to his bending. But I'm not sure how many men are desperate to achieve the "pacifist 12 year old" build to attract women.

Hailing from a nation that had quite an egalitarian system, Aang wouldn't have conventional ideas surrounding leadership, even if he does step up into it later. He also has little in the way of possessions, by choice.

As for Aang's personality, well...

I mean I wouldn't exactly call him your average James Bond or superhero. Aang is mainly characterised through his kindness, empathy, cheerful nature and occasional childishness (which slowly is drained as the trauma intesifies. yay.)

Aang is very unwilling to initiate violence, which sets him aside from many other male protagonists of his era, who were champing at the bit to kick some ass. He values nature, art, dance and fun. He's in tune with his emotions. He tries to desecalate situations before he starts a fight.

Some would say many of Aang's qualities could be classified as feminine. While the other main male characters, Zuko and Sokka try to embody their respective concepts of the ideal man (tied to their fathers), Aang seems content with how he presents and acts. He feels no need to perform masculinity as many men do, choosing to be true to his emotions and feelings.

These "feminine" qualities often attract ridicule from other within the show. He is emasculated or infantiliased as a form of mockery multiple times, the most notable examples being the Ember Island play and Ozai tauntingly referring to him as a "little boy". Hell, even certain Aang haters have participated in this, for example saying that he looks like a bald lesbian.

I'd even argue that, in his relationships with other characters, Aang often represents the passive/feminine. Especially towards Zuko, Aang takes on an almost objectified role of a trophy that can be used to purchase Ozai's love. [Zuko's dehumanisation of others needs to be discussed later, but it isn't surprising with how he was raised and a huge part of his arc is steerring away from that way of thinking.]

Aang and Zuko almost embody certain streotypes about relationships, the forceful, more masculine being a literal pursuer, and the gentler, more feminine being pusued.

We often see Aang framed from Zuko's perspective, creating something akin to the mutual gaze of Katara and Aang, hinting at the potential of Zuko and Aang becoming friends, a concept that is then voiced explicitly in The Blue Spirit.

However, unlike Katara, Zuko is unable to empathise with Aang at first, still seeing Aang as more of an object than a person. We have here an interesting imbalance of Aang seeing Zuko but Zuko meerly looking at Aang.

There is a certain aspect of queer metaphor to Zuko's pursuit of Aang, but I fear I've gotten off topic.

Wrapping this long essay up, I want to reiterate that I'm not saying that Zutara isn't popular with women. Most Zutara shippers I've encountered are women. And most Kataang shippers I've encountered are... also women. Because fandom spaces are occupied predominantly by women.

I'm not exactly making a moral judgement on any shippers either, or to point at Kataang and go: "oh, look girls can like this too. Stop shipping Zutara and come ship this instead."

I want to point out that the juxtaposition of Zutara and Kataang as respectively appealing to the feminine and masculine, is a flawed endeavour because neither ship does this fully.

The concept of Kataang being a purely male fantasy is also flawed due to the points I've outlied in this post.

Are there going to be male Kataang shippers who self insert onto Aang and use it for wish fulfilment? Probably. Are there going to be male Zutara shippers who do the same? Also probably.

In the end, our interpretation of media, particularly visual mediums like film are heavily influenced by our own biases, interests, beliefs andmost importantly our... well, our gaze. The creators can try to steer us with meaningful shots and voiced thought, directing actors or animating a scene to be a certain way, but ultimately we all inevitably draw our own conclusions.

A fan of Zutara can argue that Kataang is the epitome of catering to the male gaze, while Zutara is the answer to women everywhere's wishes.

While I can just as easily argue the exact opposite.

It really is just a matter of interpretation. What is really interesting, is what our gaze says about us. What we can see of ourselves when the subject gazes back at us.

I may want to analyse how Zutara caters to the male gaze in some instances, if those of you who manage to slog through this essay enjoy the subject matter.

[moineauz]

જ⁀ 𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐒 , various !

synopsis: when you bring your friend to ikea to help you pick furniture for your new apartment. Pinning ensues amongst other flustering events.

including: zhongli, childe, diluc, kaeya, thoma,

side comments: pure fluff! also, please buy your furniture second-hand and support small businesses! avoid fast furniture when you can (ikea) and make mindful purchases. let's briefly imagine a perfect world where ikea is ethical and sustainable.

extra: mentions and implications of marriage, gn reader, favourites: zhongli & kaeya word count: 1,784

𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈

Being the friend he is, Zhongli would happily accompany you.

He is the type to have his hands behind his back as he follows you around. Lingering close yet respectfully enough.

If you ask him for consolation, he will be honest in the most tender way possible:

"Ah... perhaps this colour will be more suitable considering the lighting."

"You did need a new couch, right? I believe you will like this one."

You blink and then your cart is full.

Zhongli's advice is acutely precise, however, expect to exceed your original budget by another ghastly $500.

Not that he suggests buying unnecessary items, rather, he suggests quality, material and construction.

Begins speaking a tad excessively about colour coordination and lightning.

He will help you lift any furniture parts if need be!

Gradually, the trip would become a joint effort by the two of you. As if you've been shopping and living together for years.

"Look at the dining table ( Name )," Zhongli commented. The lighting of the room glittered above, illuminating your face slightly as your hands glide over the wood varnish. "It's wonderful, isn't it? You'd be able to hold all the dinner parties you wanted."

You smile gingerly, and soon you are standing next to him by the kitchen sink. "Definitely, Childe would no longer have to sit on the floor."

Zhongli chuckles and you share a teasing grin. "At least we picked out a table already- much cheaper."

Zhongli raises an eyebrow, "Oh? Perhaps we can consider this one instead?"

"Personally, I think you should agree with him," spoke an employee- a soft-spoken elderly woman- "I remember when I first bought my fiancee's dining table- fun times!"

"Oh ma'am we're not-"

"Yes, my fiancee and I do agree," Zhongli gazes towards you're slightly flushed figure and smiles gently, "Yes dear?"

You blink for a few moments; gaining your footing before replying smoothly, "Why of course, how could I not love?"

You don't notice it, however, Zhongli shares a faint blush as he later pretends to cough in his fist.

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄

Childe has zero taste in furniture.

His mom would choose the furniture while he used his card.

Browsing through the showrooms and picking furniture is not how he would choose to spend his afternoon, however, he'll try for you!

In this case- it's the thought that counts.

If you need help reaching or lifting anything he'll do it readily.

Don't have a cart or bag? (There were lots) Childe will hold it all for you!

It becomes an inner competition to some extent to cover up for his obvious lack of skill in furniture and home design in hopes of impressing you.

“Excuse me young man, can you please reach the duvet covers for me up top?” asks a elderly man, an embarrassed smile gently plastered on his lips.

Childe turns his head towards the man and flashes a hearty grin, “Of course.”

With ease, Childe grabs the duvet set and hands it to him, “Ah, thank you,” the man pauses before speaking, his eyes in thought, “might I ask something?”

Childe blinks and replies, subtle curiosity beneath his lighthearted tone, “Go on.”

“Have you asked your partner out yet?

Childe fumbles a bit and the elderly man heaves a near boisterous laugh. "I'm taking that as a no, ay? Ah, young couples! I might not have the sharpest eyes anymore, but you've been lookin' at them since the kitchen showroom!"

Before Childe could express a response, the man pats his back and smiles. "Best of luck! I'm sure they'll say yes."

The man then ambles away and from a distance, Childe can see his small figure fade into the throng.

"Hey Childe! Are you alright?"

"Oh... um yeah!" prompted Childe, "Is there anything else you need?"

You shake your head, your fingers scrolling through the list you made, "That should be it. Are you sure you're okay? If you'd like I could hold the vase?"

Childe smiles while his bright blue eyes pool into yours, "No I'm good, let's head to check out."

The two of you saunter to the check-out counter side by side; bantering with each other. Childe's gaze never leaving yours.

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂 𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐑

Diluc is not well-versed in design and colour. However, he has a keen eye for both style, price and functionality, unbeknownst to him.

You were hesitant to ask him if he could accompany you as it is without a doubt that Diluc Ragnvindr is a busy man.

Diluc himself shared hesitancy for opposing reasons.

Diluc has lived with himself and has found his dwelling to be dull in comparison to the liveliness and hospitality your former apartment held. Thus, Diluc wondered if he could be of any help.

Nevertheless, you reassured him that you wanted company regardless of his skills.

Contrary to his words, Diluc was quite valuable, especially when navigating the place.

"I found the blanket you were interested in earlier, do you still want it?"

"The colour is rather flattering... but it is your choice! Um... please don't mind me."

"Do you need help?"

Diluc doubted his opinion, however, you found yourself agreeing with him several times.

You and Diluc were currently sitting by the opposite edge of a bed, your hands inches apart.

"A comfortable bed isn't it?" you bounce on the bed a little, a smile reaching your lips, "And the mattress is only $200, a king too! I can't believe you found this deal-"

Diluc does not hear your voice, it faded just as the lights mellowed and the sensations of the blanket against his calloused hands grew fuzzy.

"... Hey Diluc?"

"Ah, yes," Diluc coughs before asking, "I'm sorry what were you saying?

You smile, "It's all good! I was just explaining how I wouldn't need such a large bed for myself."

Diluc conveys a slightly puzzled expression, "How so? If you're worried about how to carry it into the apartment then you do know that I'll assist you-"

You shake your head fervently before replying, "Well thank you Diluc! But really you don't have to-"

"Oh no, I insist."

You smile winsomely before carefully replying, "It's just... me in the apartment. I'd understand if I was living with someone- but it's not worth it in my opinion."

Diluc pauses, contemplating before replying steadily, "I believe you deserve the mattress..." There is a tentative gap between his words before he follows up, "Perhaps I... ah never mind, let's get going. You wanted to eat at Chef Xianling's restaurant for dinner right? My treat."

𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇

So you invited Kaeya?

Expect relentless teasing and a carefree-complacent attitude.

However, as much as Kaeya is there for fun, he will readily assist you- not without a tease, however.

"Oh ho? Need my help?"

In regards to style and class... Kaeya can pull himself together.

However, similar to Diluc, there is a dullness to his home.

In fact, Kaeya rarely spends time in his own home: he bounces from place to place. Never lingering longer than is needed or comfortable. It is like an ever-present itch.

Yet, your home has become Kaeya's home too. Unbeknownst to you however.

It is natural for both of you.

Your home has become the longest place he has spent in. He has his space in your home, he even has a toothbrush holder and resident blanket; removing Kaeya from your home would cause an ineffable void.

Regardless of the previous facts, you genuinely invited Kaeya to come for help and company.

Kaeya makes the process entertaining! Instead of contemplating the price tags incessantly, Kaeya will smoothly subdue your worries by toying with the utensils and playing hide-and-seek in the mirror section all while slipping the item you wanted in the bag.

The two of you let loose; unwinding like children who innocently play in the kid's bedroom showhome despite being strangers to each other.

"Kaeya... do we really need this mirror?" you question dubiously.

Kaeya shares a winsome grin. "Why of course," he then gingerly places his hands on your shoulders and leans in slightly, "It holds a rather charming reflection, does it not?"

You gaze at him and sigh, "Charming? You always find ways to flatter yourself."

Kaeya merely smiles. The two of you peer into the mirror: the reflection of two souls gazing back all while Kaeya surmises.

It wasn't himself that he was referring to.

𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐀

You're in for a treat!

You will (quite literally) get ice cream afterwards.

Thoma possesses all the skills in the "art of making a home."

Need deals or a lower price? Thoma already has a list. What about colour and style? He has a magazine and Pinterest board ready. What about functionality and material? Don't fret! He knows all the washing labels and what goes best with your lifestyle.

Tell him the night before and he is packed and loaded.

Thoma is absolutely thrilled that you invited him.

Shopping for any household items is delightful for Thoma, even more so when the two of you are browsing through all the showrooms and inspecting each countertop.

His favourite section is the kitchen.

If you have a specific budget in mind, Thoma will ensure that not a dollar goes beyond it and he will keep you accountable as well!

However, staying within the budget while scouring the store takes a significant amount of time.

Hence, instead of another $100 added to the receipt, expect another three hours.

The two of you will heave a big sigh when you finally sit down in the car.

Nevertheless, it is all lighthearted and relaxing as the two of you reenacting imagining a space together.

"We'd set the tables over there-" remarked Thoma as he pointed his finger towards the dining table, "And we can house our pans here- it would be so since to have them hanging instead of in the cabinet."

"Browsing through the kitchens is always fun," added a mother, her arms cradling her baby, "Are the two of you living together?"

You chuckle and Thoma's cheeks grow rosy. You then reply amused, "Oh no, he's a friend of mine who I asked to come along."

The mother then shares an embarrassed smile, "Oh I'm so sorry! That was so wrong of me... if the two of you are looking for a hanging pan rack then I remember seeing an installation piece down in the marketplace."

"Thank you," replied Thoma, a smile pressed on his lips, "We'll be sure to check it out!"

As the mother saunters ambles away, Thoma mutters under his breath, "Maybe we should live together..."

"What was that?"

"Oh ah! Nothing," Thoma scratches the back of his neck before responding brightly, "Do you want me to write the rack on the list now?"

masterlist

[beenbaanbuun]

mothers w/ mingi

words - kind of short

genres - fluff

warnings - shaving, bad relationships with family, bad relationships with food, body issues, inherited insecurity, mingi is a precarious baby

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“do you think your ball trimmer will shave legs?” you turn and look at mingi who’s lay innocently on his bed, scrolling mindlessly through his phone. that is until your words sink in and his gaze shoots up to where you stand with the small contraption in hand.

“i guess so,” he shrugs as he turns his phone off and puts it straight down. you ignore the way his eyes furrow as you turn it on and inspect the blades close up. you don’t know how close the shave would be, but you guess in desperate times, that doesn’t really matter. at this point, any shave will do.

you switch it off again and nod to yourself, placing it on the dresser before going through your drawers to grab your other things ready for a shower. you pick up a plain blue pair of cotton panties that despite not being sexy at all, you’re sure mingi will find an excuse to rip off of you post shower. then you grab your comfiest sports bra that again has one too many holes to be considered sexy. finally you grab one of mingi’s shirts - an oversized one that seems to have taken permanent residence in your pyjama drawer - and begin to head to the bathroom with your boyfriend’s ball trimmer in hand too.

“hang on a second, baby,” he calls out after you, scrambling off the bed and rushing towards you until you’re close enough for him to swaddle in his grasp. arms wrap around your shoulders, pinning you to his chest, “what do you think you’re doing?”

you lean back against him, enjoying the impromptu hug more than you’d care to admit.

“shaving my legs,” you close your eyes as you inhale the familiar peppery smell of his cologne; it’s warm and invades your senses, just like him, “i lost my razor so i need to use this.”

“why are you shaving your legs?” he asks, not quite satisfied with your reply. probably because you’d stopped bothering with that sort of thing pretty soon into the relationship. it’s a lot of effort, and your hair seems to be the last thing on mingi’s mind when he saw your legs. mostly he just thinks about what’s between them and how he’s going to get to it. he hardly even pays notice to the prickly hairs that run up and down your skin.

“we’re going on holiday with my mother,” you grumble in reply, “i have to be prepared.”

ah yes; the monster-in-law…

she’s a lovely lady for the most part, inviting mingi into the family with open arms despite the fact that she obviously wasn’t expecting him when you said you were bringing a boyfriend home. its clear she doesn’t approve of the way he dresses, or the nail varnish that coats his fingertips, but that doesn’t stop her from treating him like her own son. he gets the biggest portions of her home cooked meals and the first pick of desert. she calls him handsome when she sees him wearing something she likes, and compliments his uniqueness whenever he’s wearing something that’s a little more outlandish for her old-fashioned taste. she thinks he’s brave when he colours his hair in an outlandish fashion, and gorgeous when he wears it black. all in all, she’s a pretty lovely woman once you get past the hard shell of her traditional values.

and, of course, if you ignore the way she treats you.

to be honest, mingi is impressed at how resilient you turned out after living with that woman for 18 years. constantly having your self esteem torn down can’t be good for someone’s mental health, and yet you made it out the other side with a relatively normal relationship with your body. you have a healthy relationship with food, if you don’t count the days when mingi has to coax you to eat just a little more, and the days where he’d find you scrutinising yourself in front of a mirror are, for the most part, long gone! sometimes you tell him it’s because of him you feel so comfortable in your body; he refuses to take any of the credit for your own inability to be broken.

in fact, it’s only moments like this that he begins to see cracks in those walls you’ve built up. moments when you know you’ll have to see your mum soon. it’s like alarm bells go off in your mind reminding you that you haven’t quite met her standards yet. eat less because ‘you’ve gained a bit weight recently; you ought to keep an eye on that’. shave your legs because ‘as a woman you shouldn’t have hair on your legs; it’s just not natural’. buy expensive skincare products because ‘acne? at your age? you really should take better care of yourself’. it’s these moments that mingi can see the damage done. that he really has to take care of you.

“you shouldn’t listen to your mum,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head and gives you an extra tight squeeze with his gangly arms, “they’re your legs, not hers; you only ever have to do what you want to with your body.”

“i know,” you say, leaning your back into his sturdy chest. he’s so warm and cosy, so reliable and strong. the small smile that rises to your face as he holds you close is involuntary. you guess you’re just so in love that you can help it, “she’s just so hard to be around when i’m not absolutely perfect.”

“well then i don’t see the issue here,” he lets you go for just a few seconds, spinning you around until you’re facing him. once more he encloses you in his grasp, a loose grip around your waist just to keep you close, “you’re already perfect, baby.”

“you’re so cheesy,” you giggle. he laughs too. in that moment nothing matters to you but him.

“it’s not cheesy if it’s the truth,” he bends down and presses a firm kiss to your lips, “perfect, perfect, perfect baby.”

[alonetimelover]

pairing: Harry Styles x physicist!reader

summary: NYC is welcoming one of the most famous physicist and things seem to look great. More physics in pop terms and more of the sweet couple. For some time.

a/n: part 2 of physicist! reader. im so excited for you guys to read it! again i am sorry if i butchered physics in here - i hope my notes were correct...

@celesteblack08

masterlist

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harryupdates

liked by scienceandharstyles, hArrysbtch and 34 302 others

harryupdates HARRY spotted in NYC today!

view all 3 492 comments

hArrysbtch he didn't listen to Europe's prays, he can't leave America

harrysmoustache oh ive missed my husband SO MUCH

harrysmylife harries come on, what is his lockscreen?

⤷ hArrysbtch it looks like a building or something

⤷ harrysfan44 i think it's some old building, i posted the screenshot

⤷ scienceandharstyles it's one of the buildings on the Oxfords campus! Dr ysn has her lectures there

⤷ hArrysbtch so im assuming he has dr yn in front of that building, you can see a head on that lockscreen 😭

scienceandharstyles he can be there with Dr ysn! she said she had some open lectures in US!

⤷ harrysfan87 yes! imattending her lecture at NYU tomorrow! i can't wait

⤷ harrysfan33 and in three days she has a lecture with physics students at Colombia University!

meetcutesnyc 👀👀

⤷ hArrysbtch ohhhh, you know something

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harrynyc

liked by harryupdates, harrysmoustache and 22 301 others

harrynyc I SAW HARRY AND YN TALKING WITH THE METTCUTESNYC GUY TODAY! and then dr yn snapped this photo for me 🫠

view all 3 202 comments

harryupdates oh im following that account immediately!!!

hArrysbtch harry answering questions about his relationship??? it can't be...

⤷ harrysmoustache maybe he finally feels comfortable

⤷ user48 I hope she isn't forcing him to

⤷ hArrysbtch he's a grown-up man, ha can make his own decisions

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TikTok

The video started with a grey pavement and part of the road visible on the screen and two pairs of sneakers approaching the cameraman. Hard-core fans of Harry would recognise those pairs of shoes plus legs wherever they would see them, they couldn’t be mistaken. The colours of them were unmistakable, taking away the need to be rather invisible. Sneakers pacing right next to Harry were just as funky as his, but in more pastel shades. They were slightly unfamiliar to the fans, but considering the account posting the video could mean the only one person - Dr YN YSN. 

“Excuse me, sorry to bother you,” started the voice behind the camera. “Are you a couple?”

Now, the camera was showing both of the faces. Harry’s partially covered by the navy hat and big sunglasses, and YN’s with a huge smile on her face. They both were wearing cosy outfits. A pair of Pleasing hoodies, shorts and high, white socks.

They both were interrupted mid-laughing. Harry slightly but seemingly tensed at the abrupt question thrown at him on the street of NYC, but immediately calmed down at YN’s hand squeezing his lovingly. He wanted to politely move forward, saying something like ‘yes, we are, but sorry we are expected somewhere near soon.’ But YN, his sweet YN, loved meeting and talking with new people. And he loved her for that. 

“Hi! Yes, yes we are,” she answered with a smile, but just like Harry - didn’t stop walking towards their destination. 

“Would you mind telling me a story of how you guys first met?” 

“Oh, I know you guys!” YN exclaimed. “You’re the ‘meet cutes’ account on Instagram, right?” 

YN stopped in her tracks, making Harry take a step back to join her. 

“Yes, we are!”

“I love those videos. They are so sweet. Remember the one I showed you with that elderly couple?” With the last sentence YN turned to her boyfriend, a big smile on her face. 

Harry nodded his head, mimicking her smile. There was no day when he could look at her without breaking a smile. She was such a ray of sunshine that shone over him and to him from the moment he first saw her. 

“Go ahead,” Harry whispered to YN. “If you want to answer some of the questions, I’m okay with it. I know how much you love those videos.” He encouraged her. 

YN looked at Harry longingly and with love spelled in her gaze. It wasn’t like he said that only for her happiness. They did talk about their public appearances, PDA, articles, her career, his career, fans, students, colleagues, professors. They talked about everything and came to the conclusion that those were their lives. Nobody should have decided for what they should and shouldn’t. It was their decision. 

That was how they decided that they would talk with YN’s dean and ask for permission for Harry to be on campus. Of course, it was granted - YN being one of the best researchers and the best lecturer at Oxford, and Harry being dean’s daughter's idol since his One Direction days. It just worked in their favour and as long as he wasn’t distracting students AND staff (including YN) it was very much okay for him to be there. Then they talked with Jeff (after YN insisted on it, ‘he is managing your career, Harry. Of course we should talk with him,’ she said one day). He obviously was happy for Harry, teasing him for the duration of their meeting, asking to be the best man at their wedding ‘after all I am the one who planted a seed of curiosity in that imbecile’s head’. 

“How did we first meet? Well, in person it was at our mutual friend's party, he introduced us to each other and the rest would be history.” She smiled at the end, gazing for a moment at Harry then back at the man, who asked the question. 

“In person? Was there any other occasion?” 

YN laughed and bumped her hip at Harry’s. “For me, the party was the very first time meeting him. I mean, my students talked about this lovely man all the time. I heard about him, I listened to his music. But the first time was at that party.”

“Have you met your partner earlier?” The question was directed to Harry. 

“Not met, no. But my friend actually sent me a link to a video where she called me a God particle. I couldn’t let that slide and looked for her wherever I went,” Harry answered, face turned towards the interviewer but his eyes were on YN, looking at her beautiful smile. 

“What were your first thoughts after meeting or seeing each other for the first time?” 

YN sighed, “you go first. You’re better with words.” 

“Uhm, after seeing that video I thought ‘how did she make physics seem so easy?’ and then ‘I’d love to see more of her.’ Just the way her passion for science beamed through the screen made me infatuated,” Harry longed. “Even though I'm very bad at understanding science.”

“But you’re learning!” YN interrupted him. “You now understand aspects that I teach, it’s very impressive.” 

“Thank you, love. Uhm, but when I first saw her in real life I thought that ‘I need to talk to her. I need to ask about that God particle and how much of a responsibility of being one is upon my shoulders’.” 

YN laughed, throwing her head back slightly. She loved when he was talking about that night. 

“What about you?”

“When our friend introduced us I greeted Harry with the thing that I firstly thought, ‘I've never thought I’d meet the God particle.’ And thankfully he laughed and it seemed to work for us.” YN explained with a smirk. 

“Now, could you tell me what is your favourite thing about each other?” 

“Her passion," Harry answered immediately, not giving YN a chance to do it first. "Or either wanting to learn and understand more and to teach others about what she loves. Watching her take time to help her students, staying after hours and grading all those papers, being the inspiration to others, to me - to be better and share my passion and knowledge with others. Yeah, that’s my favourite thing.” 

For his whole speech, YN was looking at her lover’s eyes trying to find that gleam that usually made her feel present and conscious in this fast paced world. 

“You’re gonna make my cry! No!” 

She hugged him, hiding her face in his hoodie. Harry embraced her body tightly, kissing the side of her head, murmuring ‘I’m sorry” and ‘I love you’. 

After a few moments for YN to calm down, she stood straight next to him (one arm around his waist, wanting to be close to him), taking a few breaths in. 

“My favourite thing about Harry is how deeply he cares and loves people close to him. It’s one thing being loved by him and a very much different thing seeing how his love is absorbed by his family. The way he showers them in so many different aspects of love is astonishing. It’s from mundane things like doing groceries to him driving to your house at night because you needed someone to talk to. I just love how he loves people in a poetic but human way.”

While watching that video people could tell how much those two loved and cared for each other. The way they looked lovingly at the other while they were talking said much more than a thousand words could describe. 

“Final question, what do you look for in the future?” 

“Woah, hard question,” YN started, placing her finger under her chin in a deep thought. “I think I look forward to spending more time with this guy. You know, just sitting at home and being around each other, sipping tea, holding cats and just being close.” 

“Seeing her happy with who she is makes me the happiest. So I’d love to see that for as long as it lasts,” said Harry squeezing YN closer to him. 

“Thank you guys, so much. What are your names?”

After Harry pointed at YN to tell it first, she introduced Harry and then herself with a little smile present on her sun kissed face. 

“It was very nice talking to you. You really made my day. Thank you!” She said and went to squeeze the interviewer's hand. 

“My pleasure. My sister became science obsessed because of the videos of you teaching. She’s 10 but started reading books about Physics for highschoolers,” said the man. 

YN pouted, clasping her hands together in front of her chest. 

“No way! That is so sweet! I’ve read some of the books about physics for younger kids. I’ll look over my library and just DM it to this account? Would that be okay? I’m sorry but I just love hearing about younger people being excited about science,” YN stumbled a little over her words, getting too eager about the subject. 

“Yes. She would love it.” 

“Fantastic. Have a good day!” 

“Nice talking to you, mate,” Harry said, shaking the guy's hand. 

While the camera was filming the couple walking away hand in hand, the voice could be heard from behind it, “that was the most nerve wracking interview I've ever done. But they were so cool.” 

meetcutesnyc Physics connects people

my parents!!!!!!!

i can't believe that you bumped into them

'at our friend's party' is a nice way of saying that CHRISTOPHER NOLAN introduced you to each other

passion? being the inspiration? dr yn ysn is the IT girl

'i love how he loves people' 🫠🫠🫠

just the way he looks at her... he may think we do not see his eyes behind those glasses but i did... I did and there was a BIG NEON SIGN SAYING I LOVE YOU

you can see how much they love each other

——————————————————————————————

nyuniversity

liked by yourinstagram and 3 402 others

nyunicersity Because of the interest of Dr YN YSN open lecture, we are moving it to our main lecture room! There might still be some space for you! Come and learn with the infamous Dr YN YSN.

view all 293 comments

yourinstagram Everyone is welcome!

harrystyles ❤️❤️

harrynyc Can't wait to attend it!

harrysfan44 finally the lecture I am wiling to attend!

——————————————————————————————

harrysfan44

liked by harryupdates, hArrysbtch and 25 302 others

harrysfan44 Dr YN YSN at the beginning of the lecture. Later she did not stand behind the pulpit. She was walking around asking people if they understood everything, she answered questions. That was the best lecture I've ever attended. Now I understand the hype!

view all 2 492 comments

harryupdates she is the best!

hArrysbtch I just love the person streaming this after dr yn ysn said it was okay to film her because she knows that a lot of people weren't let in the room

⤷ harrysfan44 yes! she even argued with our Dean to let people in if they were okay with sitting on additional chairs and the floor. she just wanted everyone to be included!

user34 was there any topic explained in pop terms??

⤷ hArrysbtch yes! she explained the moment of inertia using music idols and dispersion was based on One Direction breaking up

⤷ user34 what?! really?

——————————————————————————————

TikTok

“Okay, so anyone knows anything about dispersion?” Dr YN YSN asked the full to the brim lecture hall. 

“Yeah, it’s a rainbow?” Answered one of the students. 

“Well, not exactly. Dispersion is the dependence of the refractive index of the centre of the frequency of the light wave in the centre. One of the effects of the dispersion is the fact that the light of different wavelengths so different taint, dropping on the line of two centres at the angle different than zero, refracts at different angles. You can observe that when the white light is being refracted on prisms giving you the beautiful rainbow. All in all, what is the most important. Rainbow is not dispersion. Rainbow is the effect of dispersion,” YN explained quickly the topic, drawing on the blackboard the prisms and various colours. “Do you understand?”

The lecture room was silent. Strangely silent which made Dr YSN turn around quickly and take a look all over the room. 

“Okay. What is not clear. Dispersion or prisms?” 

“Prisms,” was said by most of the people. 

“Yeah, they’ve just had a test on dispersion and failed on explaining the effects of it,” commented in rather rude tone one of the professors, causing Dr YN YSN to raise her eyebrows. 

“Okay. Ehm, another chance to make you understand. Give me a band I can work with right now to explain it. Don’t be shy, you can scream it to me, don’t hold your hand up. I want to hear the answer.” 

After a moment of whispers bouncing off the walls, one brave student spoke up, “what about One Direction?”

Dr YN YSN smiled and blushed slightly, looking momentarily at her left, right where Harry was sitting. 

“I see what you guys are doing. I’ll work with the thing you gave me. Alright. Uhm, connections. White light is the band. One Direction, right? Right.” Dr YSN started with drawing the prism and one simple white line almost touching the border of the triangle. “Here we have their path together, right? No obstacles, they shine together. But then boom!” She aggressively drew the line towards the border, touching it. “2015 happened. They met the obstacle, the 18 month hiatus, isn’t that right?” 

She turned around with a smile, making a room laugh and sneaking a glance at Harry who was putting his head in his hands. 

“Okay. So when they met that 2015 it was their line of two borders, border one saying ‘stay together’ and border two saying ‘it’s time to move on’." She touched the spaces on the board to visualize what was being said.

"As white light reacts, it cannot have the same opinion which in our case is the angle of the way the light is dropping. So, it bounces off in different directions, becoming different colours. All in all. They were all one name, yes? White light equals one direction. After meeting the obstacle - 2015, so line of two centres -  they are given different names - now blue, red, yellow, green, purple and so on. Do we understand it better now?” 

DR YSN once more turned towards the room, leaving the drawing of the prisms behind her. 

“We do.”

“Yeah, but that connection was uncalled for,” someone commented, making people laugh. 

“Well, you were the one asking for One Direction. I gave you what you wanted,” YN laughed. “Alright, any more questions?”

she is the moment

i love that woman with my whole heart

she is beautiful, she is successful, she is smart, she bagged one of the sexiest man alive ICON

she is the icon, the legend, and she is the moment

another time I understand physics only because of Dr yn ysn and not my professors - but really covering the hiatus was uncalled for

thank you, Dr ysn!!!!

the way she smirked at Harry when commenting on the 2015 fiasco? Icon behaviour right there!

——————————————————————————————

drynysn

liked by harrystyles, scienceandharstyles and 201 201 others

drynysn Thank you to everyone who attended the lecture at NYU! It was amazing to see you all there! I cannot stress enough how unfortunate it was that some of you were not let into the room. I spoke up with the Dean, and we agreed on one more open lecture being held in two days. So if you still want to hear some cool facts about physics, cosmos, and more, come! I will be waiting and fighting for you to be let in!

ps. isn't it the coolest library?

ps2. This is the new account I will be using to post some little videos explaining some of the concepts in physics!

view all 17 301 comments

harrystyles There is a beautiful woman covering some of the bookshelves. I am too mesmerised.

⤷ yourinstagram you cheeky 🫠

scienceandharstyles this is the best way to get into young people's hearts!

harryupdates I loved the stream! I understand so much and learn even more. Amazing as always!

hArrysbtch the way she was fighting the old man to let people in??? iconic behaviour!

harrysmoustache the impact this woman has! this account already has more than 500k followers!!!

⤷ yourinstagram it's craaaazzzy

⤷ drynysn wrong account... but it is crazy

⤷ hArrysbtch I LOVE HER

——————————————————————————————

harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, harryupdates and 5 302 391 others

harrystyles NYC 2023

view all 453 291 comments

yourinstagram Your support is all I need ❤️

harryupdates I lived to the day that Harry Styles posted a photo with his girlfriend

hArrysbtch yeah yeah yeah, you are in love (I am crying)

harrymylove NYC is looking god on you guys

annetwist Congratualtions you guys!

⤷ yourinstagram Annie! Thank you, xx

⤷ hArrysbtch what did harry do?

⤷ annetwist He's my son.

⤷harrystyles Thank you, mum ☺️

——————————————————————————————

drynysn

liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 1 029 291 others

drynysn Hello! Here are even more physics answers to questions you might have had throughout your whole life. Hope you enjoy it because I loved answering those!

view all 283 492 comments

harrystyles Still no god particle, disappointing

⤷ drynysn Criticism accepted.

⤷ harrystyles Will there be a part 3?

⤷ drynysn Maybe. But still no Higgs boson.

hArrysbtch this is what I needed just before my classes

harrysmoustache she's doing her makeup and explaining quantum physics... she really is amazing

scienceandharstyles I will miss those lectures after graduating 😭

wired Oh, this is one of our best videos!

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 34 291 others

harryupdates HARRY AND DR YN YSN spotted in Oxford today!

view all 1 930 comments

hArrysbtch they are back!!!!!

harrysmoustache dr ysn has tattoos???

⤷ scienceandharstyles yes! she has multiple!

⤷ harrysmoustache she is even cooler, oh god

harrylondonboy it's a nice time of the year to take a trip to Oxford and bump into them

harrysfan39 the holding hands, the outfits, the camera???

——————————————————————————————

celebrityupdates

liked by user34, hater37 and 684 302 others

celebrityupdates Is this the kind of pictures that the professor of one of the most prestigious universities in the world should pose for? This and more pictures of Harry Styles and Dr YN YSN are on our website, link in bio.

view all 492 201 comments

harryupdates this is so sick and twisted, you should find some good lawyers

hArrysbtch you little bitches, this is invasion of privacy

harrysmoustache I remember the case similar to this, and the couple went to court and won. so prepare some money

harrysmylife fuck you, disgusting pigs

user47 absolutely not kind of pictures I'd think this good of a professor is part of!

user93 I don't like the picture (considering the role she has in young people's lives), and I don't like invasion of privacy.

harrysfan192 will that mean she'll get fired?

⤷ hArrysbtch they would be crazy if they even thought about it!

⤷ user92 there are different laws in different universities but I think they could do it

——————————————————————————————

a/n: do we live it as a mystery or should i start preparing part 3?

[kirbyluvr63]

Some Thoughts™

About art, desire and John Lennon

If you're active on the Twitter side of The Beatles fandom you'd know that just yesterday a collage John made for Paul titled "I Only Have Eyes For You" made the rounds and scared people whom, I guess, don't think about visual arts very often. Unfortunately I don't use the word "scared" lightly. People really used the words "disturbing" and "concerning" to describe this piece, with a hint of a "What was Lennon thinking about our poor Paul to make this with him in mind" sentiment that I don't think it's quite fair.

I tried to search more about this collage´s context, but all I could find (without having to buy Julian Lennon's book in which the image was featured) was that it was made in the 50s, while John was still at art college, but to be quite frank, I don't think the exact date matters too much.

What I see in this image first and foremost is desire, plain and simple. Red is a sexual colour, we have naked women sprawled, the head with its mouth open in a orgasm-like fashion, the eyes symbolizing voyeurism. If anything, as a friend of mine also pointed out while we discussed it, this collage is proof of the way John and Paul were so close they were even free to be honest about their sexual desires to one another. Even if the collage was made for another purpose and gifted to Paul later, this sentiment still stands, because Paul was the person he thought would receive this part of himself with open arms.

Is the collage "disturbing"? I guess, in a way. The same way I think growing up in the 40s and 50s in a hyper-convervative protestant society like England and discovering yourself would be disturbing. Even more if you're not entirely straight as an arrow. But I don't think John's talking about this here. This is about his feelings for the opposite sex, and they weren't always nice. Red is also the colour of blood and guts, John was also known for having violent outbursts. Would it not disturb you that the object of your desire also brings up in you violence? I don't think we'll ever know why he felt that way, but here we see that he's aware of it. At least I think so.

I saw another analysis of this collage that somewhat agreed with me, but presented this argument as if this was a bad thing? I don't know exactly what made me think this way, maybe the verbiage, but I'll never think a person exploring the nature of their desire, be it disturbing or not, is wrong. Of course domestic violence is bad and I'm in no way excusing it, but if you're willing to engage with The Beatles, you have to bear in mind they were shitty to the women in their lives in varying degrees much like every man ever in general, and specially at that time.

As a self proclaimed John Lennon Scholar i.e. I Wanna Crack Open His Skull And Look At His Brain With A Microscope, I'm happy this exists, and I think I need a little more time with it myself.

All of this to say: I like it, I think John Lennon was a good visual artist and stop being weird about art.

To lighten up the mood, look at the gay as hell collage John made for Elton in 1975! This one deserved its own post with a lot of tin hatting on my part, but whatever! I love them so much (and yes, I WILL find a way to mention their friendship in every post I make, shut up. One day the Lennon/John masterpost will come).

[gwnwrites]

Love Potions | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary: Sebastian drinks an Amortentia potion… on purpose.

Words: 0,7k

Warnings: None

A/N: No use of Y/N and can be read as a GN!Reader x Sebastian. I hope you enjoy! (This is set in 6th year) Part 2 is linked at the end.

—

“So we won’t even know if we have brewed it correctly until classes return?” Ominis wondered out loud. He leaned against one of the empty brewing tables. “I guess so,” you replied. Sebastian picked up the vial to examine the potion.

“There’s one way to find out.”

“Sebastian,” you warned, taking a step toward him. “Hand over the Amortentia or I’ll have take it from you.”

He grinned at you. “You can try. We both know you won’t be able to.”

“Seb-“

Ominis sighed, “He drank the potion, didn’t he?”

“My love, how are you on this fine day?”

“Does that answer your question, Ominis?” you said. The blonde Slytherin placed his head in his hands.

“Great,” he mumbled. Ominis knew that you had liked Sebastian since he covered for you in the library. The blonde boy also knew that your feelings had only grown since then.

“I suggest we find Professor Sharp quickly,” Ominis said.

—

Out of all of the Professors at Hogwarts, Professor Garlick was your favourite. She was also the first teacher you found while searching for one.

“Professor,” you called out. She wore her hat over her head, and her hair was in her usual braids. Her dress complimented the shade of green on her hat. “Ah, my favorite students. How can I help you, dears?”

“Professor, we were brewing amortentia and Sebastian-”

She lifted her hand to stop you. “No need to explain further, dear. Follow me.”

—

You and Ominis collected the ingredients as Professor Garlick had asked. And she prepared the cauldron. Of course, Sebastian followed you into the neighbouring greenhouse.

“You really look beautiful today, darling.”

You felt your face warm up. “Thank you.”

“-And I’ll tell you everyday for the rest of my life.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t complained about Sebastian yet,” you nudged Ominis as you met him back in the main greenhouse.

“Oh, I’m used to-” he became silent.

“Used to what?” You looked at him.

“I’ve prepared the cauldron. Let’s start preparing the ingredients.” Professor Garlick interrupted before you got an answer from Ominis. You suspected that you wouldn’t have anyway.

After preparing the ingredients, Professor Garlick put them in the cauldron, following her Potions book. The liquid turned a different colour each time she added an ingredient.

You spoke with the professor as you waited. Sebastian spoke about you with Ominis.

After half an hour, the cure was brewed.

“I think it’s best that you give this to him, dear.” The professor gave you the cure that she bottled in a small clear vial. You looked over at Sebastian.

He was sitting on the steps leading to the exit of the greenhouse. He had been watching you with adoration as you helped the professor with the cure.

You approached him. “Seb?”

“Yes, darling.” Darling.

“This is for you,” you said. You have him the cure. He frowned at it. “What is it, love?”

You gave him a small smile. “Nothing bad. I promise.”

“If you say so,” he shrugged, and he drank it.

You thought you would’ve had to persuade him more. It seems the Amortentia had gotten rid of his stubbornness.

After drinking the potion, he sat a little straighter. He frowned at the empty vile, his gaze followed to you, Ominis and Professor Garlick.

“I- thank you, but- excuse me,” he said. He swiftly got up, and left the greenhouse. “Sebastian!” you called after him.

You needed to go after him. You quickly turned to the herbology professor. “Thank you, Professor.”

—

-> Part 2

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Would That I

Pairing: Otto Hightower x f!reader Warnings: Smut, age gap, keeping it in the family. Word count: ~1.1k Summary: Otto makes sure his pretty, young wife has absolutely everything she desires. Based on this request.

She is smitten with Otto the moment she lays eyes on him. Arriving in King’s Landing she anticipates a week of uninteresting jousts and tedious formalities, but as she sits in the stands, thoroughly uninterested by the spectacle of the two knights charging towards each other on horseback, her eye is drawn to the Hand of the King. He is older than her by at least three decades, but he is refined, tall and ruggedly handsome. While the potential suitors within the capital are seemingly endless, none of them compare to Otto Hightower

Using every excuse within her arsenal over the coming days, she seizes all opportunities to see and speak to him, and is delighted to find he is every bit as charming as he is handsome. He titters at her jokes and she is enamoured by the way his eyes crinkle as he smiles, the green of his iris appearing to sparkle as he does so. His voice is deep, yet velvety smooth and she hangs on his every word. He is intelligent, diplomatic and sharp as Valyrian steel.

Her desire for him intensifies as the days press on, and emboldened by one too many cups of Dornish red following a feast one evening, she leans forward and presses her lips to his, her heart fluttering as she feels the warmth of his large palm cup her cheek as he returns the gesture.

“I have not felt like this about a woman in years,” He tells her.

She smiles at his words. She has not felt like this about a man ever.

There is no need for her to leave come the end of the week, King’s Landing is now her home, and after a hastily put together ceremony in the Sept, Otto Hightower is her husband.

He surprises her with his virility on their wedding night, wringing peak after peak from her pliant body, leaving her exhausted but with a satisfying ache between her thighs the following morning. Otto spoils her beyond comprehension, she wants for nothing and has the finest of everything; jewels from Lys, gowns of Myrish silk and lace, wines from the Arbor. He is diligent in keeping her sated in every aspect of their marriage.

It is obvious his daughter, Alicent, does not approve, though she does not say it, and who can blame her? She has to admit that she’d be annoyed too if her father chose to marry someone younger than his own daughter.

It is not Alicent’s silent disapproval that bothers her, however, it is how the ladies of the court love to gossip. It is not unusual in Westeros for men to wed women much younger than themselves, yet she finds herself at the center of all manner of prying questions regarding the nature of her marriage to Otto. She supposes it is because of the responsibility he holds as the King’s Hand.

“What is it you see in him?” One bold lady dares to ask.

She bites her lip, considering her answer. She longs to say that it sends a thrill through her body to wait upon her knees for him, gazing up at him as he presses the head of himself past her lips. Such talk would cause a scandal, however, so she gives a tight smile and says that he is tall.

“Surely that can’t be all?”

“No, he is handsome too,” She says wistfully, thinking about how he gazes up at her from between her thighs, the softness of his beard tickling her soft flesh, the sensation causing her to clench around nothing.

“Is he kind to you?”

“Oh, yes, Otto is extraordinarily generous!” There is a particular necklace that Otto insists she wears, with nothing else to accompany it, whenever they are alone in their marital chambers. It sits tight against her throat, adorned with emeralds that gleam in the same shade of green as the Hightower house colours. It likely cost a small fortune, but in his eyes nothing is too good for her, not when he is buried to the hilt inside of her.

“Is that your favourite quality of his?”

“No,” She muses. “I adore his dedication to his family.”

The combined heat from the fireplace and lit candles that sit upon every surface of the bedchamber make the room stiflingly hot. She feels sweat trickle down her neck, disappearing beneath the emerald choker that sits snugly around her neck, every green gemstone glittering in the dim light as she rolls her hips against Otto’s.

His grip on her waist is vice-like, every sensation heightened by warmth, as the length of him nudges against a spot inside of her that makes her tense with every undulation of her body. She feels taut, pulled tighter than a bow string until it eventually snaps, sending her headlong into oblivion, waves of ecstasy rolling through her as she collapses against her husband’s chest, triggering his own release.

His fingers stroke gently over her dampened skin as he holds her close. Already, renewed desire throbs between her legs.

“Are you satisfied, my dear?” Otto asks softly.

“I will never have enough of you, my love,” Comes her playful response.

“That is not quite what I had in mind.”

“Oh?” She lifts her head, eyeing him curiously.

“I have seen the way that you and Aemond look at each other, I am no fool.”

She laughs softly, shaking her head. “It is nothing, I can assure you.”

“I do not mind,” He rises from the bed, pulling on a robe. “I wish for my darling wife to be satisfied, to have everything she desires, so I shall make it so.”

He opens the chamber door, uttering “you can come in now” and her eyes widen in disbelief when she sees Otto’s second oldest grandson hovering in the doorway. It seems outrageous to her that he would suggest such a thing, yet she cannot deny the way it makes her pulse race.

“I shall be back in an hour.” Otto informs them both, before leaving.

She is too stunned to speak at first as she takes in the sight of Aemond. He seems stoic and unaffected in his demeanour, until she studies him more carefully. She takes in how his pupil is dilated with lust, the prominent bulge that presses against the lacings of his trousers, and the slight parting of his lips as he struggles to control his excited breaths.

Arranging herself atop the bedspread, she relaxes knowing that he desires her just as much as she desires him. She beckons him to her with a crook of her finger. “Come now, don’t be shy.” He goes to her eagerly.

It is just one of the many perks of being Otto Hightower’s wife. He is nothing if not generous in every aspect of their marriage, and so dedicated to his family.

[tombfreak]

ASPD and being a "bad person"

the backhanded support for aspd

There's a very backhanded type of support for people with ASPD. In attempts to get moral highground and fight against the demonization/stigmatization of the disorder, it's almost entirely watered down to "Oh you just lack empathy and have mean thoughts :)". It's entirely infantilized to the point where people who actually exhibit their real symptoms are just "bad people", or "using their disorder as an excuse for their bad behaviour" because "that's not what ASPD is actually like!!"

Moralizing disorders does nothing but cause harm to people suffering from mental health issues. You cannot cherry pick which presentations of ASPD are deemed acceptable when the whole disorder revolves around being and doing socially unacceptable things.

"It's ok if you lack empathy!" Is the only support I really see for ASPD, which is true, but only if we don't have empathy in ways that they think is acceptable.

I don't have empathy for people of colour, or people with disabilities, or trans folk. My empathy can't just turn on for people who I know deserve it. I can't relate to their struggles, I can't feel for them, I can't even really care. And lacking the empathy required for me to feel these things towards others is exactly what causes me issues in my life. It's socially unacceptable. It's dysfunctionally anti-social.

But thats very much the tip of the iceberg. Lacking empathy isn't even in the DSM-5 criteria for ASPD, and a lot of people with ASPD do experience empathy in their own way.

There's also the issue of "it's ok to be angry, it's ok to have mean thoughts, as long as you don't act on them" or "it's ok to not care, as long as you pretend you do" or "it's ok if you lack empathy as long as you're compassionate"

The issue is that people with ASPD are only supported and accepted if they're in a place where they can conform to prosocial behaviour, which is incredibly difficult to do and does require a degree of recovery. And not a lot of people are willing, or able to, get to that point in recovery.

If you say you support people with mental health issues, then you need to accept the part that actively causes problems as well, even if it makes you uncomfortable. You can't just love the "antisocial personality" and hate the "disorder".

People with ASPD will act in ways that makes them a morally "bad person". That's the entire premise of the disorder. If you water it down to the point where the person suffering has to be good and follow your social standards, then that's not an anti-social disorder anymore.

And I know it's hard to stomach people with ASPD sometimes, especially if they're not in recovery at all. We can be mean, insensitive, aggressive, insulting, morally skewed, or just a complete asshole in general. We can say unacceptable things, we can do wrong, and we're prone to it. You don't have to like someone to support them.

Supporting someone with mental health issues doesn't mean you have to like what they do, or who they are, or be friends with them. You're allowed to remove someone from your life if they're causing issues in yours. Supporting someone with mental health issues means you are able to leave them alone, and not go out of your way to shame them for things currently out of their control.

Yes, recovery is very important, but trust me as a recovering addict and someone with ASPD, you cannot force someone to be better. All they need is to know that they have room to breathe and grow. Support is giving people the space to do that. Backhanded 'support' is saying that you'll let them have that space but only if they currently fit in to your personal standards.

[axoluxy]

hellloooooo!!!

hope youre doing well:) can i request a jd x fem reader with body dysmorphia or anorexia? mine is getting rly bad but if you are triggered by this dont worry about it!!

tysm and love ya;)

hello yes, it's not triggering for me at all! i was actually thinking about this like a month or two ago! i hope you get better, if you need to talk my inbox is open!

"I Just Want to Help." "What If I Don't Want Help?" (J.D. x G.N!Reader)

summary; j.d. notices everything, especially when it comes to you. imagine his surprise when he catches on to your eating disorder warnings; eating disorder, body dysmorphia, swearing, talk of mental help and illness, not wanting to be better word count; 1.6k

2nd person

You had expressed to J.D. how you wanted to lose some weight and he encouraged you, but he also made sure you were comfortable. He wanted you to know you were perfect no matter what, because you were. He would tell you, “If you want to lose a few pounds that’s fine, you’re beautiful no matter what.” and he would kiss you, he would hold you close.

Now, J.D. is a very observant guy, especially when it comes to you. He was obsessed with you. So when you were skipping meals, he noticed pretty quickly. Of course he did.

He also saw the way you looked at yourself whenever faced with a mirror, or seeing a photo of the two of you, or anything that had to do with looking at yourself. He noticed how you’d cross your arms to cover your stomach, how you would close your thumb and pinky around your wrist, and lift your thighs slightly off whatever you were sitting on. He noticed you started exercising excessively and all the colour had drained from your skin. He noticed how you seemed to have forgotten important things, how you always looked lightheaded, how you were pulling out clumps of your own hair. He noticed how you would never let him touch you anymore, like the thought of his touch disgusted you. You acted like you were allergic to food, you’d drink at least 10 glasses of water a day.

Everything small or large, he noticed!

There was one mirror in your room and it had been flipped around to face the wall. When he asked you about it, you said you didn’t notice and he left it at that even though he knew you were lying.

J.D. was concerned. You, his partner, the person he loved the most, was practically killing themselves over something so small?

At least that’s how it was in his eyes. It wasn’t small to you, no not at all. It took over your whole life. You wanted to look like the girls in the magazines, or the popular girls at your school. You envied them, you hated them, you were angry that they got to eat whatever they want and they would stay under 105 pounds.

It all felt so unfair, what made you so different? Why did you have to deal with the humiliation of wanting to buy a bag of candy and feel like others were watching you in contempt and disgust?

You wanted to tell your boyfriend, you loved him and you wanted him to help but you were so ashamed. You didn’t want anyone to notice, you didn’t want to be a bother. Yet at the same time, you had prayed that J.D. would find out and help you get better.

You hated how exhausted this made you, you felt your thoughts contradict themselves all the time. You wanted to be healthy, to be better, but at the same time, you didn’t feel sick enough. You wanted to be worse. It didn’t start out like this, you didn’t intend to stop eating all over, it started with skipping some dinners, then breakfasts, then using the excuse of not having enough money to pay for lunch. J.D. would offer you money, saying it wasn't too expensive but you declined every single time.

After some time, you were repulsed at the thought of food, looking at it made you nauseous. Yet, seeing other, thinner people, eating made you jealous.

He couldn’t just tell you to eat, no that wouldn’t work. So he did the next best thing, he guilted you into eating. The next time you came over to his place, he had made sure he made a bunch of things to eat. Sure, it was a little manipulative, but it was the best he could think of doing.

“I made food for us.” He told you, holding a pot of baked macaroni and cheese.

“Oh, I’m not really that hungry. Thank you though Honey.” You sighed, you had done so well, you were doing perfect actually, you didn’t need all this. You just wanted to finish your homework and sleep.

“Not hungry? You haven’t eaten all day.” He pointed out to you, making you nervous. Had he really noticed?

“Yeah well…” You were going to give an excuse but J.D. quickly cut you off.

“Do you not like my cooking? Is it that? Is it not good enough for you? You’d rather starve than eat anything made by me?” He pestered, trying to be as frustrating and guilt-inducing as possible.

“No, no of course not!” You try to reassure him, he didn’t need the reassurance though. This was going exactly how he wanted it to.

“Well it really seems like it right now, can you at least try it?” He slides you a plate and a fork.

You sighed, giving in. If it made J.D. happy, you’d do it.

So that continued for a few weeks. Every few days you’d go to J.D. 's house, he’d cook something for the two of you and if you declined, he’d guilt you into eating it. You were starting to get a little upset that he kept doing that, you eventually realised that he was guilting you into this, so you confronted him about it.

“J.D., why do you keep guilting me into eating the food you cook?” You confront him, after he does the same routine to you this evening. He sighed and put the dish of leftover stuffing and turkey from Thanksgiving on the table.

“Because you’re making me feel like you don’t like what I make for you.” He excused, putting on a subtle frown, but enough for you to notice.

“No, that’s not it. What’s the actual reason?” You cut through his bullshit and stare at him with your arms crossed and a sour expression.

“You don’t fucking eat, [Name]. If I’m not giving you food, you don’t eat. That isn’t healthy!”

“Yeah, well neither is having a slushy every other day!” You counter, how were you supposed to take advice from him of all people?

“You can’t starve yourself, you’ve collapsed with me like 3 times in the past month! God knows how many times you do when I’m not with you!” He says, exasperated.

You were silent, stunned even. You didn’t know what to say, and you didn’t want to affirm his reasoning. He was never like this though, he never outwardly expressed his concerns for you, even though you knew he still cared.

“I’m not even gonna try that ‘Do it for me.’ bullshit because I know it’s not going to do anything. If anything, do it for yourself! You’re sick. You’re destroying your metabolism. If anything, not eating is going to do the opposite of what you want!”

You stayed silent for a moment. You were both silent, until he started to speak again.

“I get you’re insecure, my love, but you’re not handling this the right way. You’re not being healthy.” He tries to reason with you, trying to understand that you’re probably also not in a good mental state at the moment.

“Since when did you care about being healthy? Last time I checked, you destroy everything around you, including yourself. So why do I have to take health advice from you?” You pushed an accusatory finger to his chest.

J.D. was getting a little frustrated with your excuses, he didn’t want you to stay like this. It was bad for the both of you and now it was causing you guys to fight.

“Because,” He let out a frustrated sigh, he held his face in his hands and ran them up through his hair. “I hate seeing you like this! You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen and you’re shrivelling up your body to meet these unrealistic standards! You might never have the body of a model, and guess what [Name]? That’s okay!”

“No, it’s not okay, it’s unfair!”

“What’s unfair is what you’re doing to yourself. You won’t even let me touch you, I want to worship you and you’re pushing me away…”

“Why?” You give up on the yelling match, you needed to give in because you knew J.D. He’d keep this going until you couldn’t talk.

He sighed and a small smirk found its way on his face. He was happy you were finally giving in.

“Because I love you, darling. You helped me, so I’m trying to help you. You’re the only one I can trust and I want you to trust me too.” His hand lightly grazes your left shoulder, he looks at you for the ‘Okay’ to touch you.

You nodded slowly and his small smirk turned into a wide smile. He instantly wrapped you in his arms, he kissed your temple and held you so your back was pressed against his chest. J.D. was relieved that you would finally let him touch you again, and even better, you were enjoying it.

“I do trust you.” You let your eyes close on you as you lean into J.D. He pressed a few kisses to your neck and you sighed as you felt his breath against it.

“What can I do to help you? You tell me.”

“I don’t know…” You admitted, you didn’t know what to do about this.

“How about we start with talking about this, okay?”

“Okay.”

[ephemeralzenith]

fate vs agency: altan trengsin and fang runin

The Phoenix outright states: ‘You humans always think you’re destined for things, for tragedy or for greatness. Destiny is a myth. Destiny is the only myth. The gods choose nothing. You chose.’ But is that true?

Altan and especially Rin were doomed by the narrative the moment Speer was razed, the moment they were whisked from their homes to a lab or an abusive household.

The thing is: nobody actually wanted them. They were dirty Speerly shaman trash; Altan was experimented on and Rin was abused for her entire childhood. Even in Sinegard, they were both discriminated against - Altan’s a freak of nature who is used for entertainment even if people fear him, and Rin is only her skin colour - even though they both worked so hard and DESERVED to go there. Nobody wanted them until they went to the Cike.

This fuels the anger that has been curated since they were literal kids. Of course they’re angry, and of course they don’t know how to express that in a healthy way - they’ve ALWAYS been abused, they’ve never known anything else. Obviously that doesn’t excuse some of the things they’ve done because of this anger (see: Altan’s abusive behaviour and Rin’s genocide), but the people around them, and society as a whole, failed them. There were two children, maybe Speerlies, but they were two hurt and scared children.

They did choose some things, but they were doomed the moment that Nikan decided to place them in Shiro and the Fangs’ hands. They were so angry, so hurt, so scared - they never would know anything else, really.

Fate doomed not only Rin’s fate, but the possible future she’d have with Nezha. They loved each other, but they could never have each other. Rinezha are the star-crossed lovers, the Romeo and Juliet, the Pyramus and Thisbe, the fleeting touch, the only kiss, the necessary betrayal and the leaving one behind. They are a walking juxtaposition - fire and water, general who wants absolute destruction and government official/ruler who needs Nikan to be safe for the future, poor and rich etc etc. And yet, they have these soft moments because they know how war destroys; they love each other in spite of all of this, but they can never have each other, because Nezha is the last Yin left, and Rin will never live in a world where Hesperians rule her home.

The Phoenix (and Rin by extension, I guess) doesn’t believe fate exists - that there is a choice for everything - but literally everything ensured Rin and Nezha would never be happy and in love: their race, their positions in power, their ideologies, their families, their relationships with other people, their thought patterns, their beliefs, their relationship with their power/shamanism… literally everything would’ve fucked them up. And yet, here they are defying fate, only to fall back into it again. Love is not enough.

The same goes for Altan and Chaghan. They can never have a healthy relationship where Altan doesn’t die. Altan cannot live, he’s self destructive and miserable and angry. He lives only to destroy and when he isn’t destroying, he wants to die.

They could’ve made choices, yes, but nobody makes rational choices in war. They were limited by the tools society gave them, and yeah, they were awful people, but fate itself doomed them before they were old enough to think.

:(

[upat4amwiththemoon]

I havé no idea if I asked this already but if I did I apologize😭 Could you do a villanelle x readers where the reader already has a child from a previous relationship please?

A package deal

Summary: It’s either both of us or neither of us.

Pairing: Villanelle x fem!reader, fem!reader x daughter

Warnings: none

Word count: 667

a/n: short and sweet

Tags: @sayah13

masterlists | guidelines

“Are you excited to meet her, bubs?” Y/N smiles to the small girl of five she is holding on her hip as she walks down the busy street.

The small child holds onto Y/N’s shoulder, her eyes wandering around all the different people walking past them. She’s always been curious about her surroundings. “Yes, mama.”

She lets out a shaky breath, giving her daughter a small smile. She’s glad to see her happy and clearly more confident than she is feeling. Y/N is absolutely terrified. Villanelle knows she has a daughter, she’s more worried about her changing her mind, deciding that raising her girlfriend’s daughter would be too much.

“Okay, bubs.” Y/N slows down her steps as she sees the right cafe in front of her. “Do you think Villanelle is already there? Maybe she’s just as nervous as us.” She’s glad she can use her daughter as an excuse to talk things through out loud.

The small bell rings when Y/N opens the door. It’s a small family owned cafe, one filled with books and flowers.

“There she is.” She whispers, pointing at the blonde sitting at the corner table. Taking a one last deep breath, “let’s go,” she walks to the table. “Hi, honey.”

Villanelle stands up the instant she hears Y/N’s voice. “Hi.” Her eyes are wide, moving between her girlfriend and the small girl in her arms. “Hey, should- should I hug you?” Her already strong accent is even stronger now.

With a giggle, Y/N sets her daughter down on a chair, pulling Villanelle into a short but warm embrace. Then she lifts the girl again, “this is Villanelle. Remember when I told you about her, bubs? She’s mama’s girlfriend.”

“Hi, ‘nelle.”

Somehow Villanelle’s eyes widens even more, and a bright smile grows on her face. “Hey. Aren’t you a cute one?” She takes hold of her small hand, giving it a shake.

“Mhm.” The girl giggles, kicking her feet in the air.

Y/N smiles as they all sit down. “I already ordered.” Villanelle states from the lack of drink menus. “I hope that’s okay. I know what you like, and you- you’ve told what your kid likes so…so I ordered for her too. We can order something else if she ends up not liking it-“

“Villanelle.” Y/N reaches over the table, taking hold of the woman’s hand. She finds her nervousness endearing, especially since Villanelle is usually the confident one. “It’s okay, I trust you to order for us.” She giggles.

She lets out a breath. Of relief most likely, but she’ll never admit to being nervous. “Mama loves you.” The small girl speaks up after their food and drinks have been brought over.

“I love your mama too.”

Giggling, she looks up at Y/N. “I love mama too.”

Y/N gasps, nuzzling her nose against her daughter’s cheek. “And I love you.” She murmurs, her gaze moving between her daughter and girlfriend. “You know we’re a package deal, right?” She gives her daughter a colouring book with some crayons to keep her occupied while she has a more serious conversation.

“I know that.”

“If you don’t want to be part of her life, if you don’t like her or if she doesn’t like you, if you hurt her in any way…I’m out.” Villanelle listens to her words in silence. “I will trust her word over yours, because I will not allow my daughter to grow up in fear.”

“I know.”

Y/N swallows, tapping her nails against the table lightly. “So what does that mean to you?”

“It means you’re a great mother,” she takes hold of her hand, “and I would love to be part of your family.”

A smile grows on her face. Y/N squeezes her hand, giggling when a third, smaller hand joins the pile. Her daughter starts giggling too, it’s full of joy, and it’s just the sign that Y/N needs to know this’ll work.

[dovand]

i am as always thinking about 14 and the nobles... specifically 14 & shaun. CRIMINAL lack of 14 & shaun content . excuse me that is my emotional support deranged lovers-in-law prongs of a queerplatonic throuple V. that is my little scrinkly wet cat and his chill saint bernard friend. that is my symbiotic relationship weirdos who sleep back-to-back to 14 can a) leech his body heat b) cuddle donna c) not fall off the bed. that is my favourite “both wake up early but one of them is being clung to like they are a teddy bear and it is Not Shaun, who is making ‘too bad’ faces at 14 and tiptoeing away” dynamic.

(14 either ends up dozing again after he wakes up early or just lays there curled up thinking—but, either way, when shaun shows up with breakfast in bed every sunday, he is treated to the beautiful sight of the two huge autism creature eyes peering up at him from behind the most bedraggled mop of hair ever seen. whether there are any thoughts behind those eyes depends on whether their owner has been napping or Pondering)

(yes this is all made up in my head!!! yes i am dismayed by there only being FOUR FICS (4!!) using it as a tag and none of them (afaict) doing it in a qpr way. where is my deranged weirdplatonic polycule!!!)

further insanity under the cut pleasseee please please read. please i need to be insane about this with people

(also btw this post is about queerplatonic doctordonna, doctordonna shippers i love you and you are welcome to contribute but it is a Little squicky for me so if tag ur additions (so i have a heads-up) that would be so lovely and i would adore you forever <3)

shaun likes listening to people ramble and 14 likes rambling so it is a regular occurrence to find the two of them like. standing in the kitchen holding cups of tea except one of them is actually drinking the tea and one of them is talking too rapidly about equivalent exchange to remember to blink, let alone have a sip of earl gray that has veered violently past lukewarm and is headed straight for room temperature

if 14 is in a not-wordy mood tho… thru shaun’s expert tutelage he has mastered the art of the Dad Nod. he passes shaun in the hall and gives him a little nod. shaun gives him one back. 0 words are spoken but they understand each other on a deeper level than if there had been.

they go on a Family Outing to a thrift store. rose and donna disappear to the dressier sections. shaun creeps along the racks of trousers, solemnly comparing seemingly identical pairs of jeans. 14 follows him and stares for a while, then silently hands him a loudly patterned pair of shorts. shaun takes them without question and adds them to his basket & sylvia loses her mind just a little bit when she sees him wearing them

(^ this inspired by going thrifting w my friend and looking @ everything and then finding her dad looking thru the racks of shorts comparing two beige ones, and my friend handing him a pair of pink shorts with penguins on and him buying them. because he has some . i think plaid shorts? at home and when he wore them his wife said he looked gay. so he’s trying to do it More) (it's an incredible family dynamic there. i have no idea what is going on)

god jesus. 14 learns how to cook so he can be the housething (as opposed to housewife or househusband. he is just a weirdgenderthing. little creature). someone buys him a nice apron and he wears it with so much delight. chases everyone else out of the kitchen so he can concoct something lovely. runs out into the garden to stick something into an oven in the tardis kitchen because “i am not working with enough ovens, here, people!”. organises the pantry and gets this crazed look if anyone tries to stop him. “how will i know where things a—” “it will be LABELLED.” brandishes a label maker that DEFINITELY is not from modern-day earth given that it seems to take dictation as input and can print in colour and has not needed a refill of paper even though he has extensively labelled EVERY PLASTIC BOX of stuff in the pantry

sometimes he gets into Moods where he needs to solve a problem before it makes his head explode and that used to be a like. tinkering in the tardis thing. where he’d have himself and whatever poor companion he was with just floating in the time vortex for a week while he tries to make this bit of the tardis do what he wants it to. now it’s a day or two spent almost entirely in the kitchen trying to find the scientifically optimal method by which to make meringues. he starts gesturing dramatically with a spatula forgetting it is not a sonic screwdriver. makes a sonic spatula. realises he doesn’t often need to like. scan a pancake for malware. sadly puts the sonic spatula away

he is absolutely a nightmare to watch movies with btw bc a) can’t sit still b) so tall. either he is bouncing his leg and shaking the whole couch or he is stretched out across the entire sofa. no in between. donna buys a thick rug so he can just lay on the floor. the rug is TOO comfortable and he starts just spending time laying on the floor which would be fine if he thought to turn the lights on because people keep almost stepping on him while he’s having 4am Floor Time (on the nights he's not drooling all over donna's pillow)

if anyone else has thoughts about Them PLEASe share i will love you so much and forever. doctor~donna/shaun weirdcule is the only thing in my head

[achaotichuman]

Hello 👋

I hope you're well

Idk if you're taking prompts for fics but if you are, could you please write something for Tarquin from ACOTAR? Could it be something platonic (not sexual at all), him interacting with the other High Lords or yelling at the IC or maybe just expanding on the Summer Court? I feel like there's so little Tarquin-centric fics and i am dying just to get something.

I hope i'm not pressuring you into doing anything tho (and am really sorry if i'm sounding like i am) becoz if you don't want to or want to do something else, that's fine as well. I love your writing and will be happy regardless

Sorry if i'm disturbing you

Helloo!!!

Omg I love this prompt so much!!

Don't ever think you are disturbing me by sending me prompts, I am always happy to receive them!!! And if anyone is ever wondering whether or not I am taking requests, in the pinned post on my blog, it will tell you whether my inbox is open or closed. We def need more Tarquin-centric fics so I am very happy to write this one!!!

Okay so, I definitely wanted fluff and a touch of hurt/comfort, but mostly good vibes. Tarquin's trauma in the books is completely swept under the rug and I absolutely despise it, so here we see a window into him healing from Under the Mountain. Some friendship with Eris and Tamlin, and his relationship with Cresseida and Varian.

I hope you enjoy anon!!

 I’m almost me again, she’s almost you

I got some colour back, She thinks so too. I’m almost me again, She’s almost you. -(Almost (Sweet Music) Hozier

I’m running a circus. Tarquin thought to himself as he watched the three lords around the glass circle table bicker over minor details of the recent High Lord’s meeting. Debating seating arrangements, decorations and who would greet who. Tarquin listened as each Lord gave his opinion, only to be talked over by the other. 

Eventually though, his eyes slid to Cresseida who met his gaze. He gave the slightest of nods, and she plucked a crystal bell from the table. Ringing it loud and suddenly to catch the full attention of everyone in the room. 

Tarquin smoothly stood from his seat, folding his hands in front of him. He said cooly, “We will assess and organise the arrangements as necessary, but first I would like to discuss the logistics of the meeting with my second. For now you are all excused.”

There was a murmuring of ‘yes High lord.’ And general thank you’s for the meeting before everyone began to file out. The door finally clicked shut and Tarquin fell back into his chair. 

Cresseida hid her laugh behind her palm, but couldn’t stop the shaking of her shoulders as she watched her younger cousin practically melt into his chair. 

“What we really need to do is prepare a room as far away from the rest of the Palace as possible. And find some sort of enchanted unbreakable chairs.”

His second nodded thoughtfully, “Perhaps, my lord, we should nail them into the ground so that no one decides it's necessary to use them as an aerial weapon.”

Tarquin faced her with a deadpan expression as Cresseida struggled to reign in her giggles. 

“I swear to the Mother and Cauldron, if anyone ends up getting choked on my floors-”

“We’ll make it mandatory to remove all weapons. And ask Thesan for his spells to ward the room against magic.”

“I think we’d have outrage from the Night Court if we made their spymaster strip off all his weaponry.” He mumbled. 

“Maybe then they won’t come.” Cresseida murmured as she picked at her nails. 

“Cress-”

“It would certainly be a more peaceful meeting then.” She argued. 

“We have to get along with them. If only for Varian’s sake.”

She frowned, “Varian is a love-sick fool. Completely blind, I couldn’t tell you what he sees in her.”

Tarquin waved his hand in dismissal, he didn’t really want to think about his cousin’s love affairs right now. As strange as they may be and as much as he did not understand them. They weren’t his business. 

They were when he found out Varian had been telling Amren Summer’s personal matters. It got him revoked from the Court until Tarquin was completely sure it would not happen again. Since that day, Varian had not been seen in Adriata. And Tarquin didn’t go looking for him. 

“I need a drink.” Tarquin said, standing up and stretching his arms, hearing his joints crack and pop. 

Cresseida stood with him. Her skirts wishing around her ankles. The long, slim flowing blue fabric of the Summer Court billowed in the sea air as they opened the doors. 

Most of the palace was open to the air. The tall stone pillars that lined the hallways, allowing the breeze to waft in. As well as the hot, buttery yellow sun combining with the salt in the air. Tarquin closed his eyes as he breathed it in. 

He had taken it for granted. In his decades before Amarantha came for them, he had taken this all for granted. 

He breathed it in like the salt might burn away the tang of blood which tainted his senses. The thick crimson which had caked Norstrus’ and Brutius’ skin as Tarquin watched them executed. The image was there whenever he dreamt, stained in the sky at sunset, in his the blood rubies he sent to the Night Court after their thievery. 

Tarquin had always hated the colour red, it was too harsh, too cruel, too much like fire for him. It was a stain to the normal whites, blues and gold he wore. 

But after Amarantha, it was a nightmare of itself. 

“Tar?” Cresseida asked, snapping him from his own thoughts. 

Tarquin looked down at Cresseida, her eyebrows furrowed as she watched him carefully.

“Are you okay?” She asked. 

Her eyes were an earthy brown, skin made vibrant and dark by the sun again. She was alive, and so was he. She was breathing and he did too. The scars on her arms from where she had been grabbed by the Attor at times hadn’t faded entirely, and the claw marks down Tarquin’s thighs from when he had been in a grapple with one of the guards who picked on Varian still got sore sometimes. 

But they were healing. They would heal in time. 

“Yeah, Cress.” Tarquin smiled and it was real, “I’m okay.”

She smiled back, and he knew she knew what he meant. 

“We’re both okay.” She took his hand and gave it a loving squeeze. 

“You thought you could escape me.” Her voice was dripping with cruelty as she laughed and laughed, “Did you think I wouldn’t see through your plans, oh Norstrus, you weren’t this dense even when I first entrapped you.”

Cresseida grabbed his hand, squeezing it tight enough to grind the bones, as tears flowed relentlessly down her face. She couldn’t stop them. 

Tarquin squeezed her hand back. 

“I feel like something fruity and full of good alcohol.” Tarquin loudly proclaimed, “And let’s go to the beach, I’ve been in shoes for far too long now.”

Cresseida laughed, “Cousin, you are full of good ideas.”

“Ive more ideas that all of Helion’s libraries combined, you should know this well.” Tarquin grinned. 

Cresseida looked out over their people in the city streets far below, she smiled at what she saw, “Of course, of course.”

Tarquin and Cresseida sat at a busy bar at the beach that night. Tarquin got to lose his shoes and feel the sand under his feet, the sea lapping at ankles. Now he savoured a pineapple drink and watched the ocean sparkling in the deep orange light as the sun began to set. The band of red glimmered at him, Tarquin watched as the colours darkened, the stars beginning to shine from the blanket of darkness high above. 

Cresseida happily sipped on her drink, watching the sunset with her cousin. He wondered if she also saw blood in the sky as he did. 

“I love sunsets,” She said, he looked over to her, to see her eyes trained on the display before them. 

“They’re pretty,” He agreed. 

“They’re unique.” She said, “Not one is the same as another. Just like people, you’ll never see one the exact same as the other.”

Tarquin looked over the sea again, the sky an array of blended colours and dimming light. 

He watched the red as it began to fade, seeing that deep orange-tinted colour as it blended with the pinks, blues, purples, fading into the silvery ocean as the sun fully dipped below the horizon. 

“You know,” Cresseida said, “When you were young, I told you that no sunset is the same and the one we saw that night you would never see again.”

Tarquin rubbed a finger along the lip of his drink, listening intently as he turned to stare into the yellow of his drink. 

“You didn’t like that,” She laughed, “You asked me if we could get on a ship and sail to the horizon, if we could chase the sunset and see it forever.”

He followed the line of his fingers with his eyes, his skin, his wrists, his veins. He saw it all. 

“What did the sunset look like that night?” He asked.

Cresseida sighed dreamily as she thought back fondly on the memory, “It was marvellous, the whole sky was red, even the ocean shone crimson. You were amazed by it. Said it looked like the Mother had dipped a bucket of red paint over the sky.”

He remembered it, he remembered holding Cresseida’s finger with one hand and clutching a stuffed seahorse in the other. He had smiled and pointed at the sky and been upset when Cresseida said he would not see it again. 

Perhaps he had not hated red as much as he thought. 

Amarantha had tainted his memory, dragged jagged claws and left a bleeding scar. 

But blood clotted, and scars healed over. His were no different. 

Tarquin turned to face the sky. He looked at the red band, and saw the Mother’s grand expanse of paints. 

Norstrus’ blood would always haunt his mind. 

But he would look at the sunset, and he wouldn’t be afraid. 

______________________________________________

Music played in the air, a symphony of notes that wrapped around his limbs like hands pulling him forward. The night air was cool, the notes of ocean, fruits and citrus salt blew through his hair and pushed him in all directions. 

Every string was plucked with the celebrations of his lands. Tarquin clutched a flute of bubbling Faerie wine in one hand, watching the dancing Fae, twirling and spinning in long fluttering layers of fabric. A sea of blue and gold, as shining and unbound as the ocean itself. 

The meeting was over and he forgot the stress as he drank deeply from his glass. Swallowing each pale gold drop. A haze settled deep in his bones, making him as free as raging currents coursing through the sea itself. Tarquin didn’t know when or how, but he found himself spinning and twisting in the crowds to the music which wrote and rewrote itself into his soul. Etching this memory into his bones. Burning out the memories of days and nights under a cave’s ceiling, they turned to ashes which blew out into the night with the ocean air, replaced with the view of the stars above, the perfume of his Court, and the smiling, free people around him. 

At some point he spotted Cresseida, she was twirled around by a man he hadn’t met before. She met his gaze and laughed, in a second she was beside him. Grabbing his hands and spinning him around. 

“You got wine on your shirt, dunce!” She laughed, throwing her head back, white curls bouncing around. 

Tarquin stopped his spinning just enough to grab his shirt and look down. And instead droplets had splattered across his pale blue and gold shirt. 

“Oh well!” He laughed with her, grabbing her hands again. 

The night spun away from him, it came back to earth when another set of hands caught his wrists. 

“Cousin!” There was Varian, grinning from ear to ear, drunk on alcohol and the spirit of the crowd. 

“Var!” Tarquin caught him in a tight hug, catching Cresseida’s arm once more and drunkenly pulling her into the embrace. 

The three laughed and danced and drank to their merry heart’s content. Allowing the night to sweep them off their feet, whisking them into the antics of the party. 

At some point, sometime very early in the morning, Tarquin found himself laying across an empty beach, the last rays of moonlight shining down on him, painting the sand in pure silver. The ocean shimmering like the scales of a fish with every tiny wave. His shoes were gone, possibly for good, and his loose pants were rolled up past his ankles. 

He laid supported by his elbows. Watching the horizon as the very first drop of sunlight broke from below the horizon. 

“Well that was a wild night.” A voice he didn’t immediately recognise commented. 

Tarquin looked up to see a head of blond nearly right beside him, supporting a near unconscious pale-skinned redhead. 

“Tamlin,” Tarquin grinned, he glanced down at Eris and raised an eyebrow. 

Tamlin laughed, slowly lowering Eris who swayed with every movement like he’d be sick. 

“Too much Faerie wine for you, Lord of Autumn.”

“It was your terrorising cousin who wished to see me undone who kept shoving a full glass into my hand.” Eris said. 

“Cresseida is a force to be reckoned with.” Tamlin noted, flopping down on Tarquin’s other side. 

“Truer words have never been spoken, Spring,” Tarquin said, letting himself fall back down into the sand. Tamlin joined him. Staring up at the last remnants of the stars. 

“You’ll both come to Spring solstice this year.” Tamlin said, not even an invitation, almost an order. Almost, if Tarquin did not know he had long planned to go regardless of if Tamlin even wanted him to be there. 

“And I’ll be at the Autumn Equinox,” Tarquin noted, “I have to get Eris back for emptying out my cellars by doing the same to him.”

“You’ll never succeed.” Eris responded, laying back with them, looking a little more in control of himself, “If there was anything Beron was good for it was collecting the good stuff. There’s hoards of it that will put your treasure trove to shame.”

“We’ll compare and see who comes out on top then.” Tarquin said with a challenging grin. 

“What new kind of dick measuring contest is this? I’ll have to start my own hoard.” Tamlin laughed. 

“What are you going to hoard Tamlin? Flower crowns? Those would rot in mere days.” Eris snapped. 

“That's why you either dry or freeze them, Eris, then you can keep them forever. I still have the flower crowns my mother had her nieces wear to her wedding.”

“Introduce me to them one day.” Tarquin said, “I’ve heard many good tales about Lady Dahlie Fairburn.”

“My mother was awesome.” Tamlin grinned. 

“Your mother’s awesome? My mother is the most awesome,” Tarquin said, “But your mother can have second place.”

“No, my mother is the most awesome.” Eris said, “Not even a competition, you two can fight over second place.”

“Oh, please,” Tamlin scoffed, “It’s not even a fair contest, Tarquin never even met my mother.”

“What are the three of you bickering over?” Someone else chimed from above. 

Tarquin tilted his head as back as he could to try and make out who stood above them. 

“Mother, you’re just in time!” Eris chimed, clambering to sit up properly. 

Andrea took in a deep breath whilst the observed the three males try and stumble to get up. Dusting sand that stuck to their wine-stained clothes and hair. 

“Come inside the lot of you, you can sleep all this off.” She said, beginning to walk back to the Palace. 

“Wait Andrea! You knew my mother, you can settle this argument.” Tamlin shouted after her. 

Eris, Tarquin and Tamlin got up and started running after the Lady of Day. The soft fluffy sand cold beneath their feet, turning to the stone steps and the rocky cobblestone as they continued to argue. 

Andrea laughed as she listened to the three, her ribs ached as they tried to make her pick who would win their imaginary competition. 

The sun’s rays grew stronger, blue bleeding into the dark as day overtook night. 

Tarquin looked up at the sky and saw the endlessness spread out for all to see. 

Maybe he was stained with the darkness of that depraved mountain forever. 

But right now. 

He was almost him again. 

[cosmolog]

Miguel's Secret (P.2)

Part One. Part Three

[Two Years Ago]

"Okay, Y/n, can you hand me a screwdriver? There's one over there" Miguel waved his hand to the table at the end of the room, not taking his eyes off the suit he was creating.

I quickly walked over to the table and grabbed the screwdriver, then rushed back and gave him the tool. The next sound he made was a low chuckle.

"Take your time, I'm in no rush." He said, sending me a grin over his shoulder before using the screwdriver on the suit.

"Oh, okay. Sorry." I chuckled, feeling warm in the face. "Um, would you like some tea or something-"

"No, no, I'm good for now." Miguel sighed as he finished screwing the new gadget on. He stood up straight. "I don't have much for you to do today, if I'm being honest."

I smiled and stepped forward to admire the suit, which was nearly finished. "Muy chido" ('Very cool') I smiled.

Miguel smiled. "Gracias, N/n." ('Thanks, Nickname') He threw his arm around my shoulders and side-hugged me. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off?" He said.

I scoffed a laugh. "Robots don't need rest, Miggy." I reminded him.

"I know but...just ease my conscience for me. I don't like anyone working over-time for me." He reasoned as he started tidying up his workshop.

I stood there watching him for a moment. "What am I supposed to do?" I asked.

"Google it." Miguel joked, laughing at his own joke. "You can go for a stroll or visit the aquarium. I know you loved that place when we went last month. Why don't you go see if they have anything new in." The thought did sound tempting. I loved the various fish and aquatic creatures that the cities largest aquarium held. So many colours, shapes, patterns. But, no...Not without...

"Without you?" I was puzzled. Miguel was always with me whenever we went anywhere outside the Spider Society, so this request was quite unusual.

"Yeah, why not?" Miguel replied.

"But...I...I could be robbed." I excused. "Or kidnapped, or-"

"Y/n, don't worry. That won't happen. You have multiple tasers built into your hands, all you gotta do if point your finger." He smiled as he stopped what he was doing and approached me, placing his hands on my shoulders feeling how tense they had gotten. His tone grew soft and warm as he reassured me "I wouldn't let you go out on your own if I didn't give you something to protect yourself with. Now,¡vamos! Go on!" (Let's go) He said as he practically pushed me out the door.

[Present Day]

"I'm only going to take a peek-" I said as I tried to get past the two teenagers, who were blocking the way out of the storage room.

"No, you can't. If Miguel sees you, I don't know what he's gonna do!" Gwen said, hurriedly as she stood in front of me.

"Why are you saying that like it's a bad thing? What the hell would he do?" Miles asked.

"I-I don't know! We don't know their history, we don't know if Miguel is mad at her for falling in love with him or what-"

"I am not in love with him!" I protested.

"Yes, you are!" Gwen and Miles said in sync.

My eyebrows raised in shock at them as I looked between the two. I didn't speak as the two teens spoke to each other quietly. Gwen pulled Miles away from me so I wouldn't hear their conversation.

Now was my chance. My eyes locked on the door to the storage room. By the time Gwen and Miles turned to check on me, they were sent into a panic upon seeing nobody around.

I laughed as I ran, feeling joy flow through me. I wanted to run faster and faster. But as I turned the tenth corner, I slowly halted my rush now met with a dead end. Well, not really, there was a door with a key pad. I didn't know if the passwords in the Society had changed or not since I was last online but I could give it a go.

Enter Password;__________

Here goes nothing...

Enter Password; G-A-B-R-I-E-L-L-A

PASSWORD CORRECT

I sighed in relief before pushing the door open.

My eyes fell on a large aquarium in a wide open room filled with so many fish. I remember seeing them in the aquarium when I went with Miguel the one day that we did go. I remember pointing out the colourful ones, the ones that stood out to me. I remember taking a picture of Miguel as he imitated one of the fish that had a permanent frown. I chuckled at the memory.

Holograms of whales floated around the room, as if swimming in an invisible ocean. A smile broke out on my face as the humpback past over-head, followed closely by her calf.

The reflections of the water were all over my body, as if I was the water too. I walked closer to the aquarium. Placing my hand on the glass, I leant as close as I could get.

Though the room was dark, the aquarium lights created an amazing and magical glow on the fish. So immersed in the enchanting sight, I hadn't noticed that someone had entered the room until..

"I shouldn't have let you go..." A gravelly voice suddenly spoke.

Taglist

@thesilenthill

@animesnowstorm

@razertail18

@autismsupermusicalassassin

@e1493e

[moonstruck-poet]

Most Ardently

Pairing - Ben Barnes x reader!

Summary - hey! I hope you're doing good. I had a request for ben barnes. so the reader and ben (both actors) have been friends for a long time and ben always liked the reader but the reader was dating someone else. when they broke up ben was there to get through it and slowly the reader also realizes that she like ben too.

Warnings - heartbreak

I really hope you like it anon! So sorry for the wait and tysm for your amazing request<33

You were a dreamer, in search of your dream.

"Here! Look here please!" The numerous cameras flashed as you tried your best to look at every single one of them, smiling widely and hopefully striking a nice pose.

"I swear I'm gonna be blind till I'm 40," James spoke from beside you, tightening his hold on your waist.

You chuckled at his statement, "You'll have me with the similar condition beside you, don't you worry".

But the nervous smile he gave escaped your observant eyes as you were too busy paying attention to the reporters.

"Let's get out of here," you murmured and he nodded, following your lead as you moved to a much quieter and slightly less crowded area. "Much better now".

"Oh definitely," he leaned against a wall and you moved in closer, your hands travelling up to his shoulders as you gently kissed his cheek. "You were awesome out there, I don't think I can ever handle such attention".

"You get used to it with time," you smiled and your eyes caught movement making you turn to see your best friend walking towards you, hands in his pocket and a poker expression on his face.

"He probably hasn't even seen us yet," James said and you agreed.

"I'll just so and say hi to him quickly, yeah?" You excused yourself and he nodded immediately, taking a step back.

"Of course! Go on".

Your smile widened the closer you got to your best friend, taking in his gorgeous look. From the crisp white shirt tucked into ironed black trousers, and topped off with a similar blazer and tie, he looked sharp.

You noticed the exact moment his eyes caught yours amidst the many people and how they softened instantly, a warm glow spreading across his previously detached face. And your heart felt heavy and giddy as you quickly closed the gap.

"Hey!" You greeted first, an ecstatic grin on your face which he seemed to mirror.

"Hello," he replied simply, taking a tiny step closer as his obsidian eyes hungrily scanned your features.

They moved from your beautifully lined eyes, down to the blood-red colour of your lips and back again, seeing the sparkle in them that he longed for every single day. And involuntarily, he couldn't help but take another step towards you.

'Christ,' he whispered in his mind as his loving gaze caressed your figure. 'She's so beautiful,' he thought and an adoring, tiny smile was visible on his face.

The gorgeous dress that you wore just added more to your natural beauty, it was an off-shoulder gown that went down to your heels, making you look like a princess.

He was so taken with searching your face that he failed to process your words and you had to snap your fingers to jolt him back.

"Sorry what'd you say?" He shook his head slightly and focused on your speech.

A small frown was on your lips, "Are you okay? You seem a little closed off?"

"I.." He began, mind racing to find a suitable answer that could satisfy your concern, but at the same time he knew he couldn't get away with lying to you, you simply knew him too well for that.

"I'm tired," he said at last. Thinking that it was the safest reply he could give without telling on himself about his predicaments.

"Anything in particular?" You asked softly.

'Yes,' he wanted to say. 'You'. But of course he didn't. Rather, he couldn't.

"Just the stress of attending countless interviews, I guess. Haven't been able to get a proper rest in days".

You sighed sympathetically and brought him in a warm embrace, understanding that he needed it more than ever. Your hand instinctively ran through his soft hair, smoothing it down comfortingly.

Ben on the other hand felt as though he had reached heaven at your actions. He let out a deep sigh, feeling his tense shoulders lighten before wrapping his arms around your waist.

"You know you can talk to me about anything at any given point of time, right?" You asked softly, not pulling away.

"Mhmm," he mumbled, gripping you tighter without even realising it. He cherished such moments, knowing it was as close as he could ever come.

But then you backed off, making his heart sink a little. What was he even expecting? Of course you weren't going to let him be in your arms forever.

He was not yours.

And you were not his.

And he bit back the pain that slowly seeped into his soul like poison itself. His pleasant expression dropped at seeing James enter the conversation and step right beside you. He swallowed upon seeing the twinkle in your eye, the way they seemed to brighten the moment you spotted your boyfriend.

But little did he know, that sparkle was there whenever he came into your sight too.

"Having a good night so far, Ben?" James asked politely and extended his palm for a handshake.

The man in question shook himself out of his stupor and they shook hands, "Yes, everything's going quite well".

"Join us for dinner?" You asked with a smile while his hands watched the way yours intertwined with James and unknowingly his jaw clenched.

"Yeah you can invite some friends of yours too, we don't mind".

But Ben shook his head, "No I'll- I'll probably head home soon, you two go and enjoy," he gave a rather forced smile and you frowned.

"Ben?" You began, wanting to ask him exactly what was troubling his mind because you were certainly not satisfied with his previous answer.

But he interrupted you by stepping back with every word of his that he uttered next, "No no don't worry about me, you go out and dine in some fancy restaurant, maybe bribe James for your favorite ice-cream," he grinned, his lips feeling artificial as he did so.

===============================

It was a whirlwind of emotions in your brain at the moment, everything so scattered around that it was physically starting to hurt.

You should've seen it though, should've noticed the signs a lot earlier. Only if you hadn't been wearing a blindfold that was already stained red, too bad that your eyes were fully closed.

You were a stranger to breakups, never before having such a serious relationship with anyone. You had obviously heard all about them, but were yet to experience one. And you feared that you were bound to feel it for yourself soon enough.

James had been detatched from a long time, never initiating any moments of intimacy himself and always keeping it short whenever you were the one to start.

You cursed yourself, hating your idiotic, gullible mind so much for simply brushing it off, thinking maybe he was having a problem. Not once did you consider bringing it up because he was just so loving at times. But it was all platonic, something that you mistook for adoration instead.

But now that some force had finally knocked sense into you, you had at last brought up the inevitable topic. And it had led to the present situation.

There he was, the so called love of your life sitting right opposite you on the sofa, holding both of your hands in his and trying to break the news as gently as possible.

"I'm sorry," James whispered, bowing his head down. Probably to avoid looking at your disturbed features, you thought immediately.

"It's me who should be sorry," you apologised, not even understanding the reason for doing so. It just felt the right thing to do at the moment as your mind had gone completely blank.

"Hey no," he shut you instantly, shaking his head. "You have nothing to be sorry for. It- It's all me".

You nodded, your heart feeling numb now as you turned your gaze towards one of the photoframes decorating the wall. It was taken during your earlier dates with him. Gosh you looked so in love.

Your throat burned upon seeing the evident affection in not just yours, but his eyes too. But then, how could it diminish just like that Many answers crossed your mind, almost all of them pointing yourself out as the actual problem.

"Say something please," he urged, his voice filled with genuine sadness

"What am I supposed to say, James?" You chuckled lowly, "Other than the fact that I still love you with all of my heart?"

He winced, your words wedging into his chest, inflicting deep wounds. He wanted, or had atleast hoped it to be easier but who was he even kidding. Of course it was supposed to be difficult, you had loved each other for God's sake.

And how was someone expected to react when their partner told them, right to their face that, 'I don't love you anymore?'

"I'm so sorry, Christ I'm so sorry," he pressed his forehead against the back of your hand and you felt him crying.

And despite the terrible, devastating heartbreak, you still hated to see him cry. He was such a good man that despite his confessions, you still cared, as strongly as you had done before.

"It's not your fault, James," you said after gathering your thoughts. "I'm- I'm actually glad that you told me up front. No no I am-" you cut him off after seeing his disbelieving and ashamed expression.

"-You didn't cheat behind my back and instead opened up about being in love with someone else. And honestly? That would've shattered me," you whispered, giving him a small smile as if it wasn't hurting now.

"As if you're not shattered right now," he sniffed, wiping his cheeks and noticing your expression change.

"Are- Are you already talking to that person?" You changed the topic, sporting a poker face that perfectly hid the storm that was raging inside. Atleast there was some advantage in being an actress.

"Yeah," he said, fiddling with his hands. "We just talked though, nothing more I swear".

And you trusted him without a doubt, because you knew he would never ever do anything scandalous. He simply wasn't that type of a person. And that was one of the reasons that made you fall for him.

And now, that's one of the reasons that made you happy to have had fallen for him.

"Okay then, all the best for your life ahead," you muttered and shifted awkwardly. Feeling uncomfortable in your own home.

He hesitated, looking back and forth between his hands and trying to read your face before leaning in for a hug.

And despite wanting to push him away for the things he did, you merely wrapped your arms around him. Because aside from bring a great partner, he was also a fantastic friend.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered against your hair. "I'm so so sorry, please forgive me if you find it in yourself to do so. You were my first love," he said with a soft smile. "And you made it so beautiful for me".

A nod was all you could give him as he pulled back and pressed a small kiss to your forehead and exiting your apartment.

You watched the door close, heard him enter the elevator and yet you didn't sit down. Instead your grabbed your jacket and a black baseball cap, pulling the hood over your head and stepping out with your phone in the pocket.

All you needed right now was a long long drive, you thought to yourself after getting inside your black Lamborghini.

But the minute the engine spurred on and you started driving, you had somehow, without any destination in your mind had arrived at a park. And you didn't even feel the need to go somewhere further.

Getting out of the, you noticed it to be empty. Maybe the gods did decide to let you a little off the hook, and of course people wouldn't spent their Saturday night sitting in a goddamn park when they could be participating in much enjoyable activities.

And so you pulled off the hood and the cap and settled yourself on a bench, your breath coming out ragged as the pent up emotions started building in your heart.

You gasped, chest heaving deeply as you hands shook and you clenched your jaw. Your vision slowly becoming blurry and you squinted your eyes while pressing your lips together to prevent any sound from escaping.

But the rawness of it all seemed to overpower your restraints and a lone tear did indeed trail down your cheek and out came a small, sob. You bent down, elbows on your knees and palms digging into your teary eyes as your shoulders shook.

"Wh- Why him?" You whispered to yourself and in doing so you were able to taste the saltiness of your tears. And then you were silent before another round of pain struck your sensitive mind, leaving you defeated.

"Hey," you heard a man speak making you jump as you looked up to see your best friend and realisation hit you immediately.

It was a Saturday night... And he always came to this particular park for his usual runs.. Christ...

You couldn't say anything, weren't able to actually and you merely stared while steady emotions fell from your eyes.

And Ben, oh god he was devastated as he took in your vulnerable frame. He could quite literally drop down to his knees because he could see the absolute pain etched on your face and it made him tremble.

"What's wrong?" His voice shook as he did not waste another second to sit next to you. "What the hell happened? Is it something serious? Did anything happen to you? Your family?" Questions flew out rapidly from his mouth and he stopped abruptly when all you gave him was a small smile and his very soul saddened.

He saw the redness of your eyes that were shining like glass, the tip of your nose in the condition as them and the twitch of your lips that held everything but happiness.

He saw them tremble and he lost it.

You were in his arms before you could comprehend what was happening, held tightly against his warm, comforting body. His hands were on your back, pulling you closer and closer while yours were limp by your sides, something that he noticed.

"What happened, love?" His voice laced with every amount of desperation as tightened his grip, almost suffocating you with his worry.

You didn't say anything. Time passed, slowly but surely and fresh tears soon formed in your eyes and you closed them, your arms going around his torso and you cried your heart out on his shoulders.

And he let you.

Not speaking another word in fear that he may interrupt something, not even moving a muscle, afraid that you would pull away. He stayed exactly where he first was right until the very end.

"P- Promise me something," you spoke at last, voice all hoarse and full of raw pain.

"Anything," he replied, not pulling away the slightest and instead pressing his lips against your hairline.

"Please don't leave me," a quiet request reached his ears and he breathed in.

And he had to detatch himself slightly to look right in your eyes as he answered, "I would never, I promise".

But you shook your head, "No you don't understand. It's not that easy," you kept on shaking your head, muttering under your breath and he cupped your cheeks, steadying your gaze on him.

"I will never leave your side," he said, clearly and firmly. "You hear me? I will never ever leave you all alone".

"You will tell me," you began, swallowing harshly as you tried to arrange your thoughts into coherent sentences. "If- If there's something about me that bothers you, or- or ticks you off, makes you mad, you will tell me. If you don't like any habits of mine or some of my preferences, you will tell me".

He looked at you with every ounce of sadness, feeling dejected at the choice of your questions.

"Maybe you find me boring suddenly or- or just not interesting enough, y- you will tell me," you stumbled in your speech and he caught you again.

"Oh darling," he sighed and his cheeks were moist as he listened to your cries and consoled you as best as he could.

"Just please don't leave me," you whimpered, gripping his jacket in your fist.

"I won't, I promise. I promise," Ben repeated as tears slid down his face too and he kept on dropping tiny kisses on the top of your head.

It hurt like hell, seeing the love of his life unravel right before his own eyes. It pained him physically when every little sob had made its way past your lips. Your heart was completely broken, the sharp edges cutting into your soul. But he would fix it, he vowed to himself. He would gather all your fragments and piece them together.

Because if love could cause destruction to such an extent, it could also heal to unbelievable heights.

===============================

It had been two years since the incident and you had recovered properly, now back to your previously normal state with only a small gap in your heart, which you assumed would always be there.

You were proud of yourself to have overcome the struggles and come such a long away. You had drowned yourself in work, accepting every offer and giving your level best in each and every performance.

And it all bore fruit.

Because here you were now, standing on a stage in front of thousands of people to give your acceptance speech for winning a Golden Globe award for the Best Lead Actress.

There was a satisfied smile on your face as you ended your token of gratitude to your fans and supporters. They had been incredible in showeing you with unbelievable love and enthusiasm.

"And last but certainly not the least," you said with the widest grin on your already glowing face, your eyes searching the crowd before landing on a particular person.

"This one's to him," you declared softly. "For helping me get through some of the toughest lows, providing me with all sorts of encouragement to push past the bitter memories and for always, always being there no matter what. This is all for you".

There was a loud round of screams and shouts from the very eager fans who had put two and two together.

"I love you Ben Barnes," you said at last and there followed an ear-splitting, thunderous applause. "Most ardently".

And it was all worth it to see that beautiful, gorgeous smile on his face that you so loved. He pressed his fingers to his lips and blew you a small kiss making your heart swell.

You exited the stage with one final note of thanks and each step you took towards him, you felt as though you had fought down the entire world for him and emerged victorious.

Ben stood up straight, looking devastatingly handsome in his royal blue tuxedo which coincidentally also seemed to match the colour of your dress. His obsidian eyes held every bit of pride there was in the entire universe; they shone like stars, all for you.

"Congratulations," he whispered, words for your ears only as he took your arm and brought you right into his chest.

"Thank you," you pressed your face into his neck, hinting a kiss on the warm skin. If one asked you, there was no way that you could recall exactly when you saw him differently. But there was just this one time when you looked at him and it was as though your universe had literally aligned. Everything just felt complete and so, so right.

Somebody had once said, that someone will walk into your life and make you see why it never worked out with anyone else. But he hadn't barged in your routine, he was already a part of it that you were yet to see.

There were a million words, but not one language could ever describe exactly what he was making you feel. He did the most ordinary of things like getting you your morning coffee on movie sets, keeping a hair tie on his wrist ready just in case that made your heart skip a tiny beat.

He was that once in a lifetime dream come true for you. That blue crayon that no one ever seemed to have enough of. He was that love that came without warning, the one who had already stolen your heart before you could even give a reply. He stormed inside like he already belonged there, took your carefully built walls down and ignited your very soul on fire.

"Thank you," you murmured, your lips tickling his ear. "For everything".

"I did promise, didn't I? And promises are meant to be kept".

Your love for him, it wasn't at first sight. It formed gradually through each year you had spent together. His personality, his goofy humour, that earth-shattering smile, that piercing gaze, gradually it all became clear that he was exactly the man whom you were looking for.

Meeting him was fate, destiny. Becoming his friend? That was certainly a choice. But falling for him? Goodness you had absolutely no control. Maybe you didn't intend to fall in love but at some point he smiled, that Ben Barnes smile and holy shit you blew it.

"Darling?" His gentle caress brought you back to the present, pulled you awake from your romantic thoughts.

"Yeah?" You could never really get used to him saying that god forbidden word. His British accent paired with that mischievous smirk and you were a goner.

"You pierced my soul. I am half agony, half hope and I too have loved none but you," he finished the quote that he knew was one of your favourites and you couldn't help but laugh with every speck of fondness as you closed the small gap to capture him in a searing kiss.

You were a dreamer, and he was your dream.

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