#you do NOT have to support or love this story

[mattybsgroupie]

milf | chris sturniolo

contents: handjob (m receiving); p in v; mommy kink; corruption kink; milf!reader; virgin!chris; sub!chris

♡⊹𑄽୧

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ notes: i was so, so excited for this one. and i'm so happy for all the support on my silly ideas. this is the whole story of this blurb but it's just a taste, because i want to do a series about them. i wanna write about the first time they ever saw each other, how did chris confess to her, the time she came back to her husband, everything. there's so much to explore about these two and i hope you guys enjoy this just as much as i did. i love yall so much ♡ btw this is so long and not proofread please don’t hate me

♡⊹𑄽୧

it was a silent, cold afternoon at home. your daughter was away, traveling with her father — your ex-husband — and you were enjoying some much needed alone time. the sun was setting and the wind blew through the windows as you adjusted yourself on the couch and took a sip of the coffee you were holding in your left hand.

you heard three knocks from the back door, letting out a deep sigh from the back of your throat. you got up to stretch your tired bones and walked in slow steps towards the kitchen, opening the door. it was chris.

christopher sturniolo, one of your daughter’s best friends. he was energetic, funny, educated and extremely attractive for his age. the type of guy you’d want for your daughter — the gentle, sweet kid, who was surprisingly smart and was definitely going to be a great husband.

however at this moment, chris looked tired. his eyebags were darker and his usual easy smile wasn’t here. he seemed… exhausted.

“hi, dear” you said in your gentle, yet sensual tone, which always caught chris off guard. there was something about your voice that soothe him at the same time it got him worked up, the conflicting feelings taking over his chest.

“uhm, hey” chris said, scratching the back of his head. you noticed how his fingers tangled on his own hair — chris was tense. the other hand was hidden inside his pocket, his bruised lips looking even prettier under the sunset.

you smiled gently, thinking your daughter could’ve forgotten to tell him she’d be absent “she’s not here today, honey”.

“i know” chris answered abruptly, his gaze floating from your chest to his own shoes. “c-can i come in?”. with a simple nod, you entered the house, waiting for chris to join. he closed the back door and made his way to the kitchen, quietly following you around.

“i haven’t cooked since it’s just me” you said, noticing how his blue eyes scanned the empty table.

“oh” chris hadn’t realized you paid just as much attention to him as he did to you. “y-you don’t have to” he said. you raised an eyebrow and placed both of your hands on your hips, a classic mom pose. “i just like your food, that’s all” he looked away as you chuckled.

“aw, baby!” you cooed, genuinely happy with his confession as you opened your arms, offering him a warm, tender hug. “fuck, don’t call me that” chris mumbled under his breath as you approached him. you clicked your tongue in disapproval, silently calling him out. you were the older one and he needed to show some respect.

that’s when you noticed it. chris had failed to cover his pathetic boner, standing there, hard, in front of you.

you dragged your feet towards chris in slow, rhythmic steps, the sound of your heels clacking against the floor taking over the empty house. with a grin, you placed your hand on his tummy, chuckling at the contrast of your red nails and his baby blue hoodie. 

“chris, what’s this?” you say as if you’re surprised, gradually lowering your hand to his pants, gently palming his hardened cock. “you’re a naughty, naught boy” chris whined, throwing his head back as he finally felt your hand around him. 

this had happened a few times — a couple more than it should. chris was just so, so needy. your maternal instinct could always tell when he needed a hug or some encouragement, and you always gave it to him. until the hugs got tighter and the words turned to whispers, the handshakes turned to interlocking fingers and the quick gazes became lingering stares. one day, you don’t exactly recall how, chris ended up sitting on your lap, which led to your first kiss and chris inevitably cumming untouched inside his jeans.

“i just— ‘m s-sorry” he gasped when you finally got a proper grip of his cock, stroking him over his sweaters. 

“i don’t think you are” you teased, pulling his waistband and wrapping your knuckles around chris’s dick, which was covered in pre-cum. his cock twitched inside your fist when you placed a kiss on his neck, as if it was the first time he had ever been touched. “hm? what is it baby?”

“mommy” he breathed out without even thinking. his eyes were closed and his forehead was glued to your shoulder, his pathetic moans filling slipping from his bruised lips. “‘m gonna cum!”

“is that why you came here, chris? you wanted mommy to take care of you?” you cooed, biting his bare skin. with one last stroke and a shaky breath, chris came all over your fingers. the thick, sticky liquid covered your hand and dripped down his legs, staining his grey sweatpants. you brought your hand to your lips, licking all of his release.

you chuckled at him and chris quickly wrapped his arms around your waist, trying to get closer to you. chris hid his face on the crook of your neck, sniffing your scent. “i missed you” he mumbled. “missed you s’much”

your hands went to the back of chris’s head, gently caressing his brown locks. “did you, sweetheart?” you cooed, squeezing his shoulder, silently asking for him to look at you. you touched his chin and chris tilted his head, closing his eyes for the kiss he so long waited for. you pressed your lips together in a tender seal, smiling into the kiss.

“let’s get you clean up, shall we?” you said, noticing the cum stain on his pants. “i’ll wash this one for you” 

you said and he agreed, undressing right away. you smiled at his politeness and couldn't help but glance at him as he removed his sweatshirt, exposing his abdomen — chris noticed you staring at him and attempted to tease you “like what you see, mama?”

you rolled your eyes, reaching for his clothes. his half-pumped cock remained coated in cum leaking down his thigh, ending just before his knee. “go take a shower” you suggested — demanded, actually — tossing everything he had on into the washing machine “are you gonna sleep here, sweetheart?”

“i-i… can i?” chris hesitantly asked. “well, there's no one else around” you checked the living room, reassuring chris that neither your daughter nor your ex-husband would be back any time soon.

chris rushed upstairs and took a shower as you finished his laundry. you took that chance to take off your soaked panties, making yourself bare beneath your nightgown before heading to your bedroom.

stepping out of the shower, chris wrapped a towel around his waist and wiped the fogged-up mirror with his palm. his reflection stared back at himself, blue orbs with a mix of excitement and apprehension for sleeping with you for the first time. chris knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. you were just perfect. too perfect.

he opened the door and slowly dragged his feet across the hallway, the soft sound of your movements in the bedroom guiding his steps. through the door gap, chris caught a glimpse of you seated at the edge of the bed, your fingers tracing patterns on the mattress.

“done already?” you asked, voice low and tender. chris nodded as he sat by your side and leaned his back down the bed, holding his weight with both elbows.

for a moment, the room was silent, the weight of your emotions hanging in the air. in a sudden rush of courage, you got closer to him, brushing your lips against his, taking it nice and slow.

chris immediately melted under your touch. his large hand went to the back of your head, softly pulling your hair as you moved to his lap, your curvy thighs practically hugging him.

he gasped with the sudden move, even though he had touched you and you had touched him — you never went all the way. chris was a virgin after all, and you had lost your innocence decades ago. you chuckled at him “it's okay, prince” you whispered, placing a kiss on his cheek. “we don't have to do anything you don't want to”

and that's why he loved you. you were so understanding, so compreensive and gave him the reassurance he needed “no! i w-want it!” chris said, a bit of desperation on his tone, the fear of losing you somehow taking over his already fuzzy mind.

“‘m jus scared i'm not... not gonna be good” he admitted, gaze flickering between your chest — right in front of him — and the ceiling. “g-gonna mess up” he mumbled, nuzzling his face against your breasts.

“that's totally okay” you smiled gently, ruffling his hair before playfully biting his neck, pulling his skin with ur teeth. “and besides, you already know how to make me feel good” you purred like a kitten on his ear, your long, red nails scratching a line down his torso.

“you're such a tease, mama” chris whispered back, placing his palms on your ass, pulling the silk nightgown upwards and revealing your bare flesh, making you moan as he groped your lower body.

with a light push, chris had fallen against the mattress. you crawled back to your previous spot, resting your back against the countless pillows that adorned the bed. chris quickly made his way to you — he was used to sitting on your lap — but you were smarter and, obviously, more experienced.

you stopped him by placing both palms against his chest. receiving a pout in response, your skilled fingers moved to the towel loosely wrapped around his hips, finally pulling the cloth and revealing his hardened cock.

you took a moment to admire the scene in front of you: chris, freshly showered, his hair dripping small droplets of water down his shoulders, his lips slightly parted, a string of saliva connecting both parts, his chest quickly rising and falling and his dick unashamedly leaking.

you had been wet from the moment he showed at your door. by now, your pussy was pratically begging for chris. you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him closer and sealing your lips on a desperate kiss. chris audibly gasped when he pressed his cock onto your pussy, the new feeling taking over him. he started to drag his swollen lenght against your open cunt, not really sure of what he was doing, but it felt so good.

“whenever you're ready, prince” you breathed out as you enjoyed the feeling of having your folds explored after so long. chris savored that for a bit longer before positioning himself and moving his hips forward.

nothing.

he tried again. it was his first time and it was okay to make mistakes — that's what you told him. chris snorted, a frustrated sigh coming from him. one last try.

nothing, again.

you tried so hard to keep your composure. poor little thing, chris had no idea of what was going on. “w-why is it so hard?” he complained, more to himself than to you. his failed attempts were making him restless and sweaty, “mama” chris called, displaying puppy eyes and the biggest pout. “i c-can't get in...”

he was gonna cry. he was so vulnerable and upset at the same time. you ran your fingers through his hair “hey, hey, look at me” you shushed him, cupping his cheeks. “didn't i tell this could happen, baby? there's no reason to embarassed”

“c'mere” you called, patting the spot next to you on the mattress. “what if mama goes on top, huh? wanna try it that way?” you asked chris with your usual gentle, warm tone. he nodded eagerly, tears beggining to form in the corners of his eyes.

you changed positions, chris had his back resting against the headboard as you sat on his lap. “can you be a big boy and do a big favor for mommy?” he nodded once again, gripping at your hips with both hands. “stay still, alright baby? gonna sit down on you” you warned as you placed your folds against his flushed tip, gradually lowering yourself on his shaft.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck” chris cried at the overwhelming sensation. “mama! s-shit!”

a soft sigh escaped your lips as you surrendered to the moment, relaxing with chris underneath you. “nhng, so big” you whined, adjusting yourself on his cock. you were used to that feeling, being filled up by a huge cock and having men at your feet. but this time was different. it felt so raw, so genuine, so real with chris.

chris threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. his moans got louder as you fastened your pace, soon bouncing on his dick. he was making no effort at all, being a pillow prince and simply letting you do whatever you wanted.

more than having his veins pumping inside you, the thought of being his first woman, of taking away his last bit of innocence, of completely corrupting him helped you get closer to the edge.

“mommy, i can't hold it! 'm gonna cum!” chris whined, panting heavily. “cum with me, my good boy” you gave him permission, but the praise was all he needed. chris trembled and jerked his body forward, the instensity of his orgasm being almost too much for him to handle.

his whimpers and uncoordinated movements ts along with the spurts of warm cum filling your insides made you reach your own climax, your juices mixed with chris's release oozing from your pussy and coating his cock.

“gonna pull out, okay?” you told him, preparing to remove yourself from his dick. “no!” chris prosteted. you furrowed your eyebrows, more curious than mad. “c-can i... can i stay inside? please? it took me so long to get in”, he confessed and you couldn't hold back anymore, a giggle escaping from your lips.

you might have taken his virginity, but deep down, chris would always be your little boy.

♡⊹𑄽୧

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[tkwrites]

Soft Launch; Hard Launch - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif from @kawhh

Title: Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc) 

Warnings: Though most of this is fluff, there is a really nasty comment left on a social media post and mentions of poor self body image.

Summary: 4 times Quinn soft launched his relationship with Sarah, and one time he did it for real.

Word Count: 2,900

Comments: The idea of writing a 4+1 fic for my 500 mark has been rolling around my head for a while, so when I hit 500 followers about a week ago, I thought I'd try my hand at it. Many thanks to @aloragrace and @captainlexaproluvr for looking over this piece and calming my fears about doing new things. I’ve never written in this format before, but I quite like the way this turned out.  I’d love to know what you think!

I'm just bowled over and so excited! Thank you all so much. Knowing people enjoy my writing has been so fulfilling to me. I’ve wanted to write since I was about thirteen, but never had the guts to publish anything for people other than my friends to read. Now that I have and know that people like it, it feels a bit like I’m giving my little inner awkward teenager the best gift she could ever ask for. Thank you for your encouragement, kindness, and support! I can’t tell you how much it means to me.  

If you did enjoy this Snapshot, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot 

1.

The first time Quinn put Sarah on his social media was after they got home from the family reunion. The Monday after she left, he was looking back through his photos while he waited for her to get off work. He found one from their beach day he’d completely forgotten he’d taken. Sarah was kneeling over a tide pool with a few of his cousins, pointing to something in the water, while they looked into her face with rapt attention.

Even though her face was mostly hidden from view, she looked beautiful in that casual way he loved so much. Her hair was up in a bun, and she was wearing a pair of denim shorts along with her orange swim top.

Do you mind if I put this on my stories? he asked later that night, once she'd texted that she’d arrived home safely and would call as soon as she changed.

“I don’t mind,” she told him after they said their initial hellos, caught up on each other's day, and he asked again. “I’m a little surprised this is the first photo you want to go with,” she admitted. 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d want to go with something more…” she trailed off, unsure exactly how to phrase what she was thinking. She’d only glanced at it, but from what she remembered, the photo wasn’t anything special. It was from the tide pools, and though it fulfilled the mission of showing her without showing her whole face, she didn’t look excessively beautiful or anything. In fact, the first thing she’d zeroed in on were her stomach rolls. Echoes of girls calling her too fat to be with NHL superstar Quinn Hughes rang in her mind. 

“I like it,” he defended before she could find the right words or slide down the slippery slope of body image woes. “You’re doing what you love.” 

It melted something in her that he looked at that photo and saw her passion. “That’s really sweet, Quinn.” 

“So it’s okay?” 

How could she say no now? “Yeah. It’s okay.”  She reminded herself she wouldn’t see any of the things people were saying about her unless she sought them out, which she had no intention of doing.

He put it up with nothing more than an orange heart in the corner as soon as they hung up from the FaceTime call.

Less than a minute later, Eunice raced into Sarah's room. She was so overly excited, she ran into the door jam, bouncing off of it before regaining her balance. She thrust her phone into Sarah's face. “Quinn put you on his stories!” 

Glancing at the screen, Sarah smiled. “Yeah, he just asked me if he could put that photo up.”

“Oh my god. This is so dreamy,” she gushed, turning the phone back around to look at the picture again. “You look so pretty.” 

2.

The second soft launch was on his main feed at the end of the summer, though he still didn’t show her face.

It wasn’t until they got home from Hawaii and all shared their photos that Quinn realized just how many pictures his mom had taken. He was used to her snapping pictures of them - it was a very common occurrence to look around at any given moment, especially on vacation, to find her brandishing a camera to document everything she could.

He’d never appreciated it more until he was looking through the shared album and saw all the moments his mom caught. There were photos of him and his brothers and him and Sarah once she got there. There was even a video of his and Luke’s shock at their girlfriends’ arrival.  

His favorite picture she took was from the beach outside of their vacation rental. Anxious for a quiet moment together, Sarah pulled him outside to watch the sun set.

The rest of the family was inside, debating something about dinner. They had been on a kayak and hiking tour that day, and he was so tired, he was beyond caring. As long as some kind of food was provided, he’d be fine.  

His mom must have walked out onto the back porch to snap the photo. 

 The sun, sinking into the ocean in front of them, turned them into shadow as Sarah leaned her head on his shoulder. It was the kind of photo people put in vacation advertisements, and when he’d seen it, he knew it had to be included in his end of summer review.

He uploaded it with a carousel of six other photos before captioning the post, One for the books. 

After receiving sixty notifications in the first five minutes, most of them from people he didn’t know asking who the girl in the 5th photo was, he muted the app.

It wasn’t until he looked at the comments that evening and saw, I think this must be that fat bitch he was dating during the season. I was hoping they’d broken up since he didn’t stay in Vancouver this summer and she did, that he disabled comments all together.

He’d been so angry that someone who didn’t know either of them would say anything like that, he had drafted a reply before realizing he was about to engage in a reactionary argument with someone he didn't even know or have any emotional ties to. He wanted to correct them, but knew he should really get PR help to do that. 

When they talked about social media for the first time in their relationship, Sarah explained how the comments from these so-called fans made her feel. Even though she knew they didn’t know her as a person and didn’t have any place in their relationship or lives, it was difficult not to let them get to her. 

He knew the feeling well. He’d gone through the same thing when he accepted the captaincy. The pressure to perform had been so immense, it had turned him into a snappy, short-fused, irritable person until, at the advice of some other captains in the league, he started putting his phone down regularly. 

3. 

The third came when it was his turn to sit for a 32 Thoughts podcast episode with Elliott and Kyle, and they were shooting the breeze before the actual interview began. 

“We missed you at dinner,” Elliott said, referencing a banquet that the league had hosted the night before for all players and press on site for the whirlwind pre-season media tour.

Without really thinking about it, Quinn found himself explaining, “my girlfriend's family lives here, so Jack and I had dinner with them last night.”

“She's not here?” Elliott asked. 

“No, she has stuff going on back home so she couldn't be, but it was nice to see them.” Some players brought family to the media tour, but not many. It was a short stint, shorter than most road trips during the season, so most didn’t bother.

Their producer, Shanna, flashed a red light, letting them know it was time to start the formal interview. Kyle counted down, “three two and one,” before introducing Quinn and starting with the questions. 

At the end of the recording, both Elliott and Shanna asked if he wanted them to cut his talk about his girlfriend and her family from the episode. Usually, they left those anecdotal conversations in, especially on the youtube videos, but this one was a bit more nuanced. 

“I think it should be fine, but can I talk to her about it and get back to you?” 

“Of course,” Shanna said, smiling. “It’s not slated to go up for a few weeks, so just let us know by the 17th.”

When he'd asked Sarah about it that night after arriving home, she seemed unconcerned. 

“I think that's kind of up to you.” She knew from their FaceTime conversation the night before that Quinn, Jack and their agent had eaten at Rachel's house, so there was no risk of someone posting photos and making the connection they were with her family.  

“I mean, people have been speculating you have a girlfriend, right?” she asked. 

“Yeah.” It was more than speculation at this point - most people knew he had someone. They just didn’t know who she was. 

“And people who found my instagram already know I’m from Nevada, so I don’t really see what the worry is.” 

He’d expected her to be more worried about it, but now that she was responding to him with cool logic, he had to admit she had a point. 

The next day, he messaged Elliott along with his agent to let them know they could keep the anecdote in the recording. 

When it hit the airwaves, Sarah purposefully didn’t check any of the messages Eunice sent her for a few days. Eunice had taken it upon herself, and continued at Sarah’s request, to report big gossip to her so Sarah wasn’t tempted to go on the blogs or fan accounts. 

Most responses were sort of victorious bragging, posting about connections with Sarah’s instagram “about me” section where she talked about being from Nevada, feeling that this interview proved them right. 

4. 

The fourth time wasn’t planned. 

When Quinn got home from their first regular season road trip, the apartment was dark. It was past two in the morning, and Sarah had a therapy appointment at eight, so she hadn't waited up for him. 

In his trek through the apartment, he paused by the dining room table. Until Sarah moved in, walking into the apartment after a road trip was often the worst part of the whole thing. He was always glad to be back in his own bed, but nothing seemed to exasperate his singleness more than coming home. Not only was he going from being surrounded by the team to being totally alone, he was coming home to an empty house. The combination of the two felt stiflingly lonely.

The mess of textbooks, highlighters, and notebooks left out on the dining room table was such proof of someone else living in the house, it made his chest feel full. 

In a spur of the moment act, he snapped a picture of the dimly lit chaos and posted it to his Instagram stories. No caption, no explanation. Just the simple proof that he wasn't alone.  

“Why did you put a picture of my books on your instagram?” she asked the next day after getting home from her appointment. 

He shrugged, “I liked it.”

The season before, anytime she would study at his house, she would clean everything up, organizing it all back into her bag before going home or coming to bed. 

Now, her books often stayed out on the dining room table on weekends. He offered to convert one of the spare bedrooms into an office for her, or let her use the office he had a computer in now, but she turned him down. 

“I like studying out here,” she'd said, glancing up to look out of the windows. “If it bothers you, I can put everything away.” 

“It doesn't bother me,” he'd said, leaning down to kiss her temple. “I just want you to be comfortable here.” 

She had beamed at him and turned her head to brush her mouth over his. 

5. 

Quinn waited until the one year anniversary of the day he and Sarah met to officially announce their relationship. 

He knew by that time that they could go the distance. He'd seen her through every month and every season and saw no major red flags. Not to mention the fact that everyone in his life liked her, and her family and friends seemed to like him.

Over the course of the year, he'd moved pictures he liked of Sarah and pictures he liked of them together into a favorites album he simply called S. So, in late January, he put together a post and sent it to his PR rep to look over. After they sent it back with some edits, he showed it to Sarah. 

Sarah, who for her part, knew this was coming but wasn’t quite sure what to expect, was taken a bit off guard. She knew Quinn read a lot and was thoughtful with his words, but reading his simple summary of their relationship made her melt. 

He’d included 5 pictures of her that were interspersed with 5 pictures of them together. The first photo was that perfect, golden hour sunset selfie. The rest were all photos she knew he loved. She’d seen some of them, and some of them, she hadn’t. There was a candid shot of her laughing with Jack and Luke that she hadn’t seen before as well as a picture she never knew he’d taken of her sitting at the dining room table with her laptop, looking pensively at the screen, fingers poised to type. There was the photo of them in front of their Christmas tree, and one of them laughing so hard, they were falling all over each other on a beach in Hawaii.

Under the photos, he’d simply written, The best year. and tagged her in the final photo - the dreamy picture Kaitlyn had taken of them under the mistletoe. 

“Quinn,” she breathed, looking up to find him smiling expectantly at her.

“You like it?” he asked. 

“I really like it,” she said, fighting back the tears that pushed at her eyes. 

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

He was ready for the world to know that not only was he taken, he was taken with her, and not afraid to say it, but he knew it would likely open up another door of criticism she’d never been exposed to before. 

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I’m ready.” 

The fact that Quinn wanted the world to know, without a doubt, that she was the one he was with made her heart race. 

They didn’t have to hide anymore. To her, it was the last, final cementing block in their relationship. It spoke of his faith in their future and his dedication to staying with her. He wouldn't put it out for the world to see if he had any doubts. 

He posted it right before practice two days later so he could work the anxiety of it off. 

When he got back to his locker an hour and a half later, he had 1,654 likes and over 200 comments. At first glance, they all seemed positive. Not that what random strangers thought of him meant much, but it was nice to know his fans were happy he was happy. 

Bonus scene: 

On the afternoon of the anniversary of their one year of meeting, Reece stopped Sarah as she walked into the building after work.

“I’ve got a delivery for you, Ms. Roberts,” he said, walking with her over to the security desk. 

Before he’d even picked them up, Sarah knew it must be the large bouquet of flowers that were an absolute riot of color - purple and yellow, red and pink, white and green. 

Quinn was out of town - playing in Toronto at that very moment, in fact - and she knew he must have sent them in place of being there in person. 

“Thank you, Reece,” she said, accepting the flowers and a card from him before heading upstairs. 

Trying to manage the vase, card, and her school bag, as well as press the button in the elevator, resulted in her accidentally slopping a large amount of water down her front. Thankfully, the large bouquet hid the spill from anyone else in the elevator, and she was the only one to get off on the top floor. Upon entering the apartment, she set the vase and card on the bar and went straight up to change. 

It wasn’t until she wandered down to make dinner during the second intermission and saw the bright flowers that she remembered the card. 

Her full name was on the envelope in someone else’s writing, and the front of the card was completely blank, so when she flipped it open, she was surprised to find Quinn’s handwriting filling most of it. 

It’s been one year since I took refuge in the aquarium, only to stumble upon a beautiful woman giving a talk about octopus and took the chance to ask her out. Back then, I just thought she was one of the most beautiful people I’d ever seen. Now I know that not only is she beautiful, she’s smart, kind, supportive and so driven she inspires me to do better. I don’t like to think what my life would be like if she’d turned down my offer for lunch, or I didn’t get up the guts to talk to her. This time with her has been a whirlwind and the best year of my life. 

I wrote this for the caption of the post that went up today, then realized the only person I really wanted to read it was you. 

Happy one year of meeting, Sarah. I’m so glad you took a chance and went out with me even though I was more than a little awkward. 

I love you. 

Love, 

Quinn 

Moved to tears by his thoughtful words, Sarah snapped a picture of the flowers to put up on her stories, adding the caption, Love you, @_quinnhughes, before texting him.

I love you. I can’t believe it’s been a year. Here’s to a million more.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

A fathers love

Summary- The story between one Dark lord and his only son, Mattheo Riddle. And the first time Mattheo calls for his father when he's in trouble.

An idea inspired by a batfam fic and @anawritez-posts :3 is mostly a fic about Voldy and the relationship between him and his first born son Mattheo.

minor Tom/young Voldy x Reader, mostly just in the background-you can make up your own story for them and if they're romantic or not.

warning; Tom Riddle/Voldemort, heart aching fluff and angst, blood, injury.

=

Voldemort, Tom Marvolo Riddle, had never exactly expected to be a father, not once as he grew up without one, or when he murdered his father, or even when the world began to know what the name Voldemort meant-and began to fear it.

But a ruler needed an heir, so he convinced an old cohort of his, (y/n) (l/n), to be the mother of his heir. It gave her plenty of benefits, being under his protection, being the mother of his child, and being known as his dark lady because with her becoming the mother of his heir-came certain pureblood expectations, so of course he married her.

After marrying her, came his first-born son Mattheo, who he allowed his last name because Voldemort had never exactly thought of a proper wizarding last name so Riddle would have to do for now.

Birth was…stressful, not just for his wife, but for Voldemort as well-who hadn’t exactly realized that the death of his mother had affected him so badly that he was…scared that (y/n) would die giving birth to Mattheo. But she was fine, and Mattheo was a little red wriggly potato of a newborn.

“Healthy lungs,” (y/n) commented, exhausted and happy, looking down at his firstborn in her arms that was crying as hard as he could with his new functioning lungs. Voldemort nearly cringed if he wasn’t staring in near awe.

He made that, they made that, they made a tiny little human. (y/n) looked up at him, examining the impossibly surprised and soft expression the dark lord was making, he was knelt beside the bed, staring at Mattheo who was cradled in (y/n)’s arms. “Would you like to hold him?” (y/n) asked and Voldemort swallowed, for the first time, scared of hurting somebody.

“Should I?” Voldemort asked, his voice uncharacteristically vulnerable and (y/n) nodded, sitting up to place Mattheo in Voldemort's arms, who took him so gently it was almost comical. “Support his head, just like that.” (y/n) murmured, Voldemort slowly leaning back on his heels as he looked down at the tiny being in his arms-who had quieted as soon as Voldemort had taken him.

“He’s so small,” Voldemort murmured, his brown-red eyes staring down at the baby boy in his arms, warmth he never thought could’ve existed blossoming in his chest. The love of being a father.

-

Except, Voldemort isnt very good at showing love, considering he had never been shown it all his life. He had very few examples of a fatherly figure, he had Slughorn, he supposed, but he didn’t count Slughorn as a good example-considering how he hated Slughorn's coddling of him, though he did enjoy the praise.

So, Mattheo grew up going to his mother for all of his needs, which Voldemort was fine with, he didn’t know how to communicate with the boy, who was quite emotional-his heart on his sleeve unlike Voldemort, who had been emotional when he was young-but he was mean spirited, Mattheo was soft, like his mother.

Voldemort didn’t exactly try to stop the softness that Mattheo had in his heart, because while Mattheo didn’t know it, even the dark lord was weak to Mattheo’s doe eyes he gave when he wanted something from his mother.

Mattheo, however, grew up thinking his father didn’t exactly, care about him. The dark lord was distant and quiet, never showing affection even to his wife, Mattheo’s mom. This made Mattheo believe that he was only an heir to Voldemort, a means to an end, because his friends-or his future followers as the dark lord deemed them-all had relationships with their fathers, while they were stern and maybe a bit mean sometimes, they were still fathers, caring and loving, and when he was young, very very protective.

One time he saw Lucius call out for his dad when he scraped his knee and Abraxas had been next to him quicker than anyone could even say expelliarmus. It had only been a scrape too, and yet Abraxas had scooped up the 7-year-old and carried him into Malfoy manor, away from where he and Mattheo had been playing quidditch.

Mattheo always wondered what would happen if he called out for his father? If he started crying and called out for ‘dad’?

Mattheo, for the longest time, thought he’d never respond, that he had better luck calling for death itself to save him, because Voldemort would never care about anyone that much.

Right?

-

Mattheo hit the floor with a crack, groaning as his shoulder flared with pain. He could taste blood in his mouth, dripping off his lip and down his chin. He’d been assigned to a mission, either by his father or some other higher-up death eater, like Lestrange or something, but it was a stupidly dangerous mission, trying to convince the trolls of the western mountains to join his father's cause.

They hadn’t exactly reacted well to Mattheo’s offer, be it strained since he hadn’t exactly wanted to be there, so here he was, being thrown like a doll by mountain trolls.

He rolled onto his back, his vision blurry as he looked up at the trolls just a few feet away, one stomping up to him-raising its club high. Mattheo’s wand wasn’t in reach-blending in with the sticks and leaves on the forest floor, his heart seized in his chest.

Was he going to die here? Would he never get to see his mom again?

Would he never finish his Hogwarts education?

Panic bubbled in his throat and tears burned in his eyes-breathing heavily and quickly as he tried to scramble back. It came out by accident, the breathless cry of a scared 15-year-old who needed to be saved.

“D-Daaa-ad!!” The word was interrupted by blood in his throat, choking on it, making his voice quiet and almost pitiful.

The troll close to him didn’t even get the chance to arch down the club-because a swirl of strong black smoke and a blast of green lightning interrupted it. “AVADA KADAVRA!” a familiar voice bellowed, killing another troll-the shock wave from the two mountain trolls hitting the ground blowing Mattheo’s hair back as he sobbed on the ground, his shoulder in flaring pain and his chest hurting as he took shallow breaths between sobs.

He opened his eyes-seeing Voldemort-face twisted in rage-turn away from the mountain trolls that were fleeing. His father’s face went pale-paler than usual-and he rushed towards Mattheo, dropping his wand as he dropped to his knees beside his only son, carefully scooping the young boy into his arms, his head cradled in his elbow.

“Mattheo,” Voldemort breathed out, his eyes wide with worry, his jaw clenched as he looked over Mattheo for any injuries-finding many.

“Dad-“ Mattheo choked out, his hand tight against his father's sleeve-he doesn’t even remember the last time his father held him like this but right now he cant bring himself to try to remember-right now, he’s scared, he’s hurt, he needs his dad.

And his dad is right here, holding him, killed for him, protected him.

Mattheo doesn’t even know where he came from, how he knew Mattheo called for him, how he knew where Mattheo was. Perhaps Voldemort had followed him, perhaps it was fatherly instincts, perhaps magic.

It could’ve been anything, and Mattheo didn’t care, because his dad had come to save him-just like he always wanted.

“i-I’m-sorry,” Mattheo blubbered out as Voldemort found his wand and began enchanting healing spells under his breath, trying to reverse the worst of the damage.

“What?” Voldemort asked, his brow furrowed as he looked at Mattheo’s face. “Mattheo-no-“

“I shouldn’t be crying-I’m not a baby-I should’ve-been able to handle it,” Mattheo stutters out-fat tears rolling down his face-he hadn’t cried in front of his father in many many years.

Voldemort shushes him, it’s awkward and new, a copy of what his mother did when Mattheo got upset, but it’s still there-a gentle coo and a warm hand that brushed away blood and tears on Mattheo’s face. “Do not apologize, never apologize, you’re my child. You weren’t supposed to be on this mission in the first place,” Voldemort murmured, scooping his son completely into his arms, Mattheo clinging to his father’s robes.

Mattheo furrows his brows at his father’s words. He wasn’t meant to be on this mission? “I meant for this to be for Mulciber, who even told you to do this?” Voldemort said, it was a rhetorical question, but Mattheo answered anyway and Voldemort’s jaw clicked in anger. “I shall deal with him later, where is your wand?”

Mattheo sniffed and looked around, still in his father’s arms-which feels so odd-but finds his wand on the floor and his father grabs it, and in a moment he apparated them back to the manor-his mother already rushing down the stairs as Voldemort carried him through the threshold of the main foyer.

“I’ve got him,” Voldemort calmly said to his wife, who nodded, her fingers brushing through Mattheo’s hair as he leaned towards her-his eyes closed as he felt blood drying on his face.

 He’s set down in his room on his bed and his father personally sees to his medical needs, wiping up blood and fixing bones that were broken from when he’d been tossed to the ground by one of the mountain trolls.

It’s quiet, awkwardly quiet for a long time, Mattheo watching as his father, Voldemort, patched him up-his brown-red eyes intense as he waved his wand, charming the slice in Mattheo’s hand to heal up and close.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Mattheo admitted softly, too scared, too shy, to look at his father, who froze at Mattheo’s words. His brows furrowed, looking up at his son.

“Why not?” Voldemort asked, putting his wand away and sitting next to his son, their shoulders only a few inches apart.

“I didn’t know you cared,” Mattheo said softly, looking down at his hands. Voldemort swallowed, he knows he’s been a very distant parent, barely interacting with his son over the last 15 years-not since Mattheo was a toddler and needed his father much more than he did now.

Voldemort struggles with his words, but he has to let Mattheo know how much he really cares.

“I never expected to be a father,” Voldemort admits, wringing his hands between his knees. Mattheo looks at him, his eyes wide-realizing what was happening, his father was opening up to him. “But upon making myself the dark lord, a ruler of the wizarding world, I knew I would need an heir. I married your mother because an heir needs a mother-and she was the only one I was comfortable with, making an heir with. I…” Voldemort swallowed, rubbing his brow.

 “I never expected you. I watched you be born, I was terrified your mother would pass while giving birth to you, like my mother had, but she didn’t-and you had arrived. You were so small,” his voice becomes quiet, his gaze distant, fond. “I was terrified I would hurt you by holding you, but your mother insisted. Holding you for the first time-i…I never knew what it meant to be a father, I hardly know how to be one still but…when I held you for the first time, you were no longer my heir-you were my son. My very first love. I’m…I’m sorry I’ve failed to show it all these years.”

Mattheo can feel the lump in his throat, and he takes a small breath; he can't help but leaning forward-wrapping his arms around his father, and for the first time since he was a toddler, his father hugs him back.

Mattheo’s mother watches from the doorway, smiling softly before walking away, knowing her husband and son had finally connected once more.

-end-

[ang3lofdivinity]

𓏲๋࣭ 𝖲𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖥𝗈𝗋 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖸𝗈𝗎🫧˖°

Relationship(s) :: Jinx + Calypso(slightly yandere)!Fem!Reader (romantic)

Genre :: Fluff! And LOTS, LOTTTSSS of angst.

Format :: Oneshot / story

Warnings :: spoilers for season 2 of Arcane, even more trauma than last time!!, death mentions, READER IS NOT CALYPSO - takes her place essentially, Reader leans towards being more yandere (possessive and obsessive over Jinx), Jinx still has some remaining feelings for Ekko, but eventually gives up once again, heavily inspired by Jorge’s “Love In Paradise” + “Not Sorry For Loving You”, Reader is not toxic like Calypso in either of those songs! A bunch of time skips for a few, VERY LONG (I had to split this up into another part dude..), slight imitation to SH? Nothing explicitly stated

A/N :: AAA I actually am very surprised that “Stuck In Paradise” (be sure to read it first! None of this will really make any sense if you don’t read the first part of this!) kinda blew up! + all of the nice comments. TYSM GUYS FOR YOUR SUPPORT, GENUINELY. (I saw 1.9% of you say no btw 🤨). I hope this lives up to your expectations!! (W.C: 9.2k)

Ⅰ - Ⅱ - Ⅲ

The days and weeks slipped by in a surreal, dreamlike rhythm for Jinx and you, as if time itself had softened around the edges. Life had never felt this way before; unpredictable yet strangely comforting. You had long resigned yourself to solitude, believing you’d never see another human face again. The gods would probably be tired of seeing so many arrive on your island by pure coincidence and then immediately leaving once they had the chance to. They might as well have put another spell on your island so that nobody else would’ve been able to end up here.

Isolation had become your norm. Your reality.

And then Jinx arrived, shattering that reality you’d become so used to.

She was different. The others who had stumbled upon this forsaken island before her had always left the moment they had gotten the opportunity by the gods themselves, abandoning you to your endless exile. They were fleeting, shadows passing through your life and leaving you to rot.

With one of those sailors? You’d once gotten so attached. Too attached

And then they left you…

Everyone who ever appeared on this island - besides yourself - disappeared within a few weeks.

But Jinx?

She stayed.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you had someone who cared for you.

Even in the loneliness of this place, you weren’t truly alone anymore.

Over time, the two of you began to grow closer, spending hours together in quiet conversation or companionable silence. You were drawn to her sharp edges and fragile strength, and she—though unaccustomed to such things—found herself drawn to your unwavering care. Jinx wasn’t used to safety or protection. The idea of someone looking out for her was.. odd, almost unsettling.

But with you? She was beginning to understand what it felt like to be safe, to not have to look over her shoulder at every corner she turned due to the hostility of those living within the Undercity.

And for you, her presence was a revelation. You loved the sound of her voice, the unexpected humor that flickered through her words during such moments, and the way she slowly let down her guard. There was something healing in her company, something that made the world feel just a little less broken.

For now, the gods seemed to have turned their attention elsewhere, leaving you both in a rare state of peace. This was especially important to you, given the fact you would now be able to relax without their constant nagging or their interferences annoying you, you were free to simply be—to sit together by the fire, to explore the island, to share the small joys of this strange life you’d come to know.

You couldn’t say what the future held, but for now, you had each other.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

.

"Pixie, you're doing it wrong," you said, trying to stifle your giggles as Jinx dangled a net precariously over the water.. and herself.

As for what you both were doing? Well, trying to catch fish! You wanted to create a meal with them eventually, but realized you had begun to run out. So, you told Jinx you were going to be out for a while and collect some fish - to which she ecstatically mentioned she wanted to come with you and try to catch some fish herself.

And how could you say no?

So, you let her tag along.

"What do you mean wrong??" Jinx shot back, mock offense dripping from her tone. She wobbled slightly, balancing on the rocks near the ocean. It's painfully clear that she never has done anything like this before in her life.

“You throw the net in, you pull it out. Boom, fish!”

You rolled your eyes, folding your arms across your chest

"Except the part where the fish actually stay in the net? You know, the most important part?”

"That's an unimportant detail,” Jinx muttered, grinning.

“Hey, wanna see something cool I can do?!” With a sudden movement, she swung the net dramatically, trying to make some sort of cool entertainment for you (something that seemed like an attempt at a handstand)!- ...only for the net to snag on a rock behind her. The momentum of the action sent her sprawling backwards into the shallow water with a loud splash, causing some of the sand and most of the rocks to become wet.

You immediately gasped at the sight, filled with worry as your first thoughts were filled with those of ‘is she okay!?’ ‘Is she hurt!?’.

Then, she sat up from where she’d fallen, net surrounding her within the water as she spat out a bunch of water - almost like that of a waterfall.

This made your concern dissolve into laughter.

“Oh, gods! Jinx, are you okay?" You managed to speak between fits of laughter, rushing closer to where the bluette fell.

Sitting up in the water, Jinx blinked, hair plastered to her face as she turned to look up at you.

"I'm just testing the water quality, obviously." She muttered, clearly salty about her failed trick. And you giggled a bit more about the entire ordeal before finally regaining your composure and clearing your throat.

You extended a hand to help her up, but it seems like Jinx had some other plans in mind for you!

With a mischievous grin, she yanked you into the water beside her.

"AA!! JINXX!" You squealed as the cold water soaked your clothes as you were splashed from the impact. You sat up, moving some hair out of your face before you quickly splashed Jinx in retaliation with a giggle, to which she happily returned with a splash towards you of her own.

By the end of the "fishing trip," you had caught exactly zero fish but had tears of laughter streaming down both of your faces.

You really should take her with you more to catch fish. Though, maybe focus more on the task?..

Nevertheless, you both eventually got out of the water, completely drenched from head to toe. But neither of you minded, given the stupid smiles plastered on both of your faces.

“I’ll let you take a bath first. I’ll take care of your clothes.” You gently patted the damp hair atop Jinx’s head, to which she playfully scoffed at.

You didn’t even notice before - but her hair had grown a bit from the first time you’d met her, her electric blue hair now reaching the base of her neck.

“You want me to cut your hair soon?” You inquired on the walk back with her, dragging the net alongside you as she nodded, grinning ever so slightly. And for the rest of the walk back to the palace, you both let the comforting silence linger between the two of you.

The two of you should do this more often..

After returning from the fishing trip and ensuring Jinx was settled for her bath, you take her wet clothes along with your own upon changing into a robe to clean them so they are clean for the next morning while grabbing some of your own clean clothes: a pair for her and a pair for you.

Returning back to the parlor, you begin to fold up a clean set of your own clothes for her to wear, and as you do so - the memories of the evening bring a smile to your face. Jinx’s laughter, her grin, and the way she seemed so carefree during the trip.. it’s rare to see her like that.

You set the clothes you had grabbed for her on a small table outside the bathroom with a light knock on the door before retreating to the kitchen to give her privacy.

By the time Jinx emerges and finds you returning to the parlor, her damp hair towel-dried and her face flushed from the warm bath, you’re preparing your own turn to clean yourself off. She’s wearing your clothes that you prepped outside (which is similar to that of what you gave her when she first arrived here): an oversized shirt and some loose, comfortable shorts, looking surprisingly at ease despite the borrowed attire.

“These are comfy,” she says, tugging at the fabric with a grin.

“Though. I’m still the one with style.” She proudly proclaims, hands on her hips.

You laugh at her comment before turning on your heel to look at her.

“Right, because soaking wet and covered in sand is the pinnacle of fashion?”

Jinx sticks her tongue out at you in response before speaking up again.

“Says the one who’ll be looking like a prune after a bath!” She flops dramatically onto the couch, draping herself across it.

“You better hurry up, Trinket. The night’s still young, and I’m not done hanging out with you yet.”

You giggle at her words for a moment before you slip away for your own bath, the warmth of the water washing away the chill of the evening and the lingering bits of sand stuck to your skin.

As you take your time, massaging the shampoo into your scalp, rubbing the conditioner in your hair - you find your thoughts drifting to Jinx—her laugh, her little playful banter with you, the way she seems so at home with you despite how chaotic she usually acts around you. It’s oddly refreshing to see her in such a state.

Eventually, you finish cleaning yourself, draining the water from your bath and drying yourself upon getting out of the tub. You take your time to brush out your damp hair, change into the fresh clothes you had gotten for yourself, making sure you look at least decent before placing your robe on a small rack for later use.

Then, you return to the parlor, just to find Jinx sprawled across the couch, idly tinkering with some small gadget she must’ve grabbed from her stash.

The moment she sees you she perks up, fixing her position on the couch.

“Took you long enough!” she teased you, patting the spot next to her.

“C’mon, sit down. I’m not gonna bite!”

“..much.” You roll your eyes at her comment but take the seat right next to her.

The quiet hum of the room settling over you both. The late-night air is cool, and the faint sounds of the trees slightly swaying from side to side to the gentle breeze is a comforting sound you’d long gotten accustomed to listening for.

And when you least expect it (given she’s never done anything like this before) — Jinx leans her head against your shoulder.

“So,” she says after a moment, her voice softer now.

“Today was fun. Stupid, messy, and fishless, but fun.”

You smile as a small giggle leaves your mouth, resting your head lightly against hers.

“Yeah, it was. We should do it again sometime.”

“Definitely,” she murmurs, her fingers idly tracing patterns on your arm. (You cannot deny the heat warming your cheeks, and the way your heart skips a beat).

“But next time, I’m catching something. I’m not letting those fish laugh at me again.” You chuckle softly at her little comment before closing your eyes as the two of you sit in comfortable silence.

The night stretches on, peaceful and easy, as if the world outside doesn’t exist for a little while.

Right now?

It’s just you and Jinx.

Though you’ll have to rest shortly, you can take some time to simply relax with the person you care most about.

Jinx was utterly spent.

The day had been physically demanding, given from the few inventions she had begun in the morning, to helping you clean around the palace, to the fishing trip outside.

But even with all of the exhaustion.. it was still strangely peaceful.

For a fleeting moment, she almost forgot about the chaos and pain of her past.

Almost.

When she returned to her room, she slumped onto the bed without much thought. Her eyelids felt heavy, but sleep was a complicated thing for her.

The echoes of past memories, the ones she’d never fully escaped, and even the simple fact that she barely ever even got sleep when she was working under Silco or him.

Those memories always lingered just on the edge of her consciousness. It was always hard to tell if they’d leave her be or drag her into nightmares.

Tonight, though, her body gave in quicker than her mind could protest. She drifted off in an awkward position: one arm dangling off the bed, legs tangled together, and her head tilted at an angle that would definitely give her a sore neck in the morning.

However.. you were there, no?

You slowly peeked into Jinx’s room.

You hesitated in the doorway, biting your bottom lip, debating with yourself whether you should go in. It’s invasive and incredibly weird— but.. you just need to make sure she’s safe. Your heart raced as it always did when you checked on Jinx, a habit you’ve grown.

You’ve gotten too attached to the bluette to allow anything horrible to happen to her, so you’ve made it a routine to check in on her every so often. Most times after she had fallen asleep. On those nights where she hadn’t rested still for whatever reason, you made your nighttime visits clear to her as you just worried about her well being.

Of course you never told her you did it every night, you simply told her it was because you could clearly hear her being restless - which thankfully convinced her.

You felt bad about lying to her.. but it felt weird enough that you were doing this.

Stepping inside, you made sure your footsteps were gentle and quiet so as to not alarm Jinx. The soft glow of moonlight spilling in from the window illuminating Jinx’s peaceful but slightly uncomfortable looking form.

Seeing the bluette sprawled out, you couldn’t help but let a soft chuckle escape past your lips.

How does she even manage to sleep like that?

Finally making your way over to the side of the bed, you knelt beside the bed, carefully lifting Jinx’s arm and tucking it back onto the mattress. You also adjusted Jinx’s legs so they were more relaxed and less twisted.

Of course—not in a violating or weird way, as uncouth as these actions might seem. You’re doing it to make her comfortable! Not to be a creep!

And finally, you slowly pulled the extra blanket over Jinx.

The entire time, your heart swelled with an overwhelming tenderness upon seeing the sight. Seeing the chaotic woman you’d grown so fond of finally relaxed and asleep.

Though once Jinx was tucked in, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave immediately.

So, you lingered at the edge of the bed, your eyes tracing the lines of Jinx’s face. The bluette looked so peaceful in sleep, so vulnerable and far removed from the sharp edges and guarded demeanor she carried when awake, especially when she’d first arrived here on Ogygia. She seemed so harsh, so on guard twenty-four seven!

But could you blame her? Of course not.

Nearly everyone who came before her was exactly the same.

Though just as you had begun thinking of a multitude of other things — there’s something that got you out of your thoughts: upon closer inspection, Jinx had a stray piece of hair covering her face in a rather.. odd way. It was almost going into her mouth.

…

You hesitated before leaning closer, your fingers trembling as you brushed the stray piece of hair behind her ear and away from Jinx’s face.

However, as you did so - the bluette shifted slightly.

Oh gods, was she going to wake up!? Was she going to see you here acting like some sort of stalker!?

Your breath hitched, adrenaline coursing through you until —

..she didn’t wake.

You let out a relieved sigh upon figuring out she was simply stirring within her sleep, your fingers lingering near Jinx’s cheek for just a moment longer than necessary.

Then before you finally decided to leave, you whispered softly, almost too quiet to be heard, even by yourself.

“I won’t let anything happen to you… I promise.”

Finally, you stood, your eyes lingering on Jinx one last time before you turned and slipped out of the room.

You closed the door silently behind you and pressed your back against it, exhaling deeply.

Your heart was pounding, but there was a strange, bittersweet comfort in this late night ritual of yours.

You knew you were becoming too attached to her. You knew this wasn’t entirely normal. But at the same time, you couldn’t stop yourself. Jinx had become her whole world—and you were terrified of losing that world of yours once again.

You wouldn’t let that happen.

..

"I’m telling you, this is gonna be the best sandcastle," Jinx declared, crouching down low to pat a misshapen lump of sand into shape once more, grinning with delight at her creation.

You, seated a few feet away and meticulously crafting spires and arches, glanced over at Jinx’s work. You had to bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing at the bluette. It’s not you being rude! It’s just… you cannot tell what she's even making anymore. She started off decent at the beginning of your little trip here - to which she suggested in the first place, and it now… kinda collapsed!

"Uh-huh. And what exactly is that supposed to be?" You inquired, raising an eyebrow before returning to look down at your sandcastle, fixing every little detail as meticulously as possible.

This is a lot more fun than you’d anticipated..

After all, you were once so focused on wallowing within your sorrow, never finding the time to genuinely appreciate any of the fun activities you could have here on the island. I mean, you were trapped here - why would you ever want to get comfortable with your surroundings if you were here unwillingly and hated every minute of it?

But with Jinx around?

It definitely makes it worth it..

"It’s a fortress, obviously!" Jinx replied indignantly at your inquiry as if it was some sort of offense, gesturing at the uneven walls.

“Gotta be ready for a sand invasion."

You shook your head before looking down at your own sandcastle, trying to hide your smile from the bluette.

"Well, I hope your fortress is sturdy, because my castle is going to outshine it in every way."

"Oh, it’s a competition now?" Jinx’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she grabbed a handful of wet sand and launched it in your direction. It splattered harmlessly against the ground near you!

"Jinx!" You gasped, pretending to be scandalized by the sudden bold action of the woman. You eventually retaliated with your own handful of sand, carefully aiming so it landed just shy of Jinx’s leg. Of course, just because you didn’t want to get her dirty once again, nor did you want to get dirty with sand. That stuff is horrible to get out! (Though, you probably won’t be able to avoid that)

The "sandcastle competition" quickly devolved into a full-blown sand fight, both of you laughing so hard you both could barely breathe as you launched sand ball after sand ball of each other, even getting up from where you were seated and rushing around the shore of the beach of your island.

When you both finally collapsed in the sand, covered in grit and panting from laughter, you glanced over at Jinx, your expression softening at the sight of her being so happy.

It filled your chest with a warm, fuzzy feeling that never seemed to truly go away. Hell, every time you saw her it would fill your chest with that odd feeling, one you could not figure out for the life of you.

But.. it wasn’t unwelcome.

"You’re trouble," you said, brushing a stray strand of hair from the bluette’s face.

"Yeah," Jinx replied, grinning up at the sky.

"But you like it."

You could stay like this forever..

Later on upon cleaning each other up from the small sand fight the both of you had - you found yourselves simply sitting together on the cliff near the palace, letting the rhythm of the waves surrounding the island and the chirping of the birds fluttering on fill the silence.

Jinx leaned against your shoulder as the two of you watched the sunset. The warm hues of orange and pink bathed the horizon, casting a golden glow over the beach. Your heart definitely skipped a couple of beats, warmth spreading to your cheeks as you tried to remain calm in this situation.

For once? She seemed completely at peace.

You didn’t dare move of course, afraid that even the smallest shift might disturb the moment. So instead, you let your gaze drift over Jinx’s profile, your heart beating a little faster than usual.

"Do you ever think about what’s out there?" Jinx asked suddenly, her voice soft.

"Out where?" You replied, tilting your head slightly.

"Out there," Jinx repeated, gesturing vaguely toward the horizon of your island.

"The people, the places. Everything I left behind."

Your expression grew somber at the mention, turning your gaze to look back over the horizon.

You haven’t left this island for so long, you’ve forgotten what it’s like out there. So many things have changed, but this little island of yours stayed the same, unchanging until Jinx arrived.

“Do you regret it?"

Jinx was quiet for a long moment, seemingly thinking about your words.

“Sometimes. I think about my sister, Violet or— Vi. About how I left her to scream and cry.”

"And then other times, I think about Ekko. About what could’ve been."

She let out a small, bitter laugh.

“But then I think about how it’d all probably go wrong anyway."

You reached out, hesitating for just a moment before placing your hand gently over Jinx’s.

"You don’t have to run from it, you know." You turned your head once more, gazing down at Jinx as she rested upon your shoulder.

Then, Jinx turned to look at you, your faces closer than either of you realized.

“And what about you? You don’t run from anything?"

Your smile was faint but tinged with sadness.

"I’ve been running for a long time." You let out a small giggle, trying to make light out of the dark situation.

Your gazes lingered, unspoken words wishing to be said. But before either of you could say anything more, Jinx leaned back, breaking the moment.

“..I’m gonna go inside.”

And then she finally arose from the spot on the cliff before walking off, leaving to your lonesome once more.

As the days blended into weeks, and you found yourself tethered to Jinx in ways that… terrified you as much as they comforted you.

At first, it was innocent—a lingering glance here, a brush of your fingers there. But soon, it became something more consuming, an ache that twisted in your chest every time Jinx so much as wandered out of sight. (You don’t understand this. You hate it, but you love it because it makes you.. happy).

During the day, you were never far from Jinx’s side. Wherever Jinx went, you followed, often under the pretense of needing to “check on her.” Whether it was a quiet walk along the shoreline or a shared meal, your presence was a constant.

You insisted on carrying Jinx’s tools when she tinkered, your hands brushing against Jinx’s at every opportunity. You lingered in every hug that Jinx had finally submitted to, holding on just a little too long, your fingers tightening as if letting go might cause Jinx to vanish.

And at night? The same ritual would happen as you remembered. You tiptoed to Jinx’s room, your bare feet silent against the cool flooring of your palace. You’d push the door open just enough to peek inside, your gaze softening at the sight of Jinx sprawled out on the bed, her breathing deep and even.

You couldn’t help yourself.

You’d creep closer, your fingertips brushing a stray lock of blue hair from Jinx’s face, or even simply just fixing her position on the bed so she would be more comfortable and not have a horrible ache within her neck. Your heart would flutter at the faintest smile that graced the sleeping woman’s lips. Satisfied, you would then retreat to your own room, but sleep never came easily after.

The worry, the need to ensure Jinx was still there, always tugged at your mind.

So many have left you, hurt you, vanished before your very eyes due to the powers of the gods above as they cursed you for everything you’d done. Cursed you to this island.

But not this time.

Jinx will stay. You’re SURE of it!

Not only that: but hand-holding became as natural as breathing, your own fingers always lacing through Jinx’s whenever you both walked together. Jinx didn’t seem to mind—in fact, she seemed to enjoy the closeness!

The idea of Jinx leaving was unbearable. You couldn’t stop replaying the memory of Jinx’s arrival, the way your heart had soared for the first time in a century. You’d been so alone for so long, her only companions being the unchanging skies, the shining sun, and the whispering wind. Everyone left you, abandoned you to nothing because they HATED you. Hated you for what you’d done, for everything you had done.

Your fear of being alone forever became overwhelming after the last being had left your little island over a few years ago.

Now?

Jinx has become your entire world.

“You okay there, trinket?” Jinx’s voice broke through your thoughts.

“Hm?” You blinked, realizing you’d been staring at Jinx for far too long.

“You’ve been quiet today,” Jinx teased, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“Usually, you’re fussing over me by now.”

“Hey! I’m not fussing,” you stammered, furrowing your brows.

“I’m just… making sure you’re okay. You have a horrible tendency to get hurt, you know!”

Jinx chuckled, reaching out to ruffle your hair.

“You worry too much, trinket. I’m not going anywhere.”

The words were meant to reassure, but they struck you like a dagger.

The promise of permanence felt fragile, like glass that could shatter at the slightest touch. And you would not let that happen. Not now, not ever.

“I know,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

But the fear remained within you, gnawing at your mind non-stop.

As the days after passed, your behavior only intensified. You found yourself tracing Jinx’s movements, memorizing the way her hair caught the sunlight, the sound of her laugh, the curve of her smile. You cataloged every detail, desperate to hold onto the pieces of Jinx that made you feel alive.

Your need for Jinx’s presence grew insatiable, and while Jinx didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps didn’t mind, and you began to feel the weight of your own desperation. It wasn’t fair to Jinx, this suffocating need to keep her close, but you couldn’t stop yourself. After all, how could you, when Jinx was the only light in a world that had been so dark for so long? When everyone had chosen to leave you upon hearing the god’s messengers give them the opportunity.

Yet this woman didn’t.

She never left you!!

So, why wouldn’t you grow overprotective?

And as you sat together while watching the sunset, you couldn’t resist resting your head on Jinx’s shoulder, like she’d done a while ago. Your heart pounded as you felt Jinx relax into the gesture, her warmth seeping into your skin.

“Thanks for sticking with me, Pixie,” you whispered, your voice soft.

Jinx’s breath hitched. She wanted to say something, to confess the depths of her feelings, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she simply tightened her grip on your hand, praying that the moment wouldn’t end.

But deep down, she knew that she couldn’t keep living in fear. Something would have to give: whether it was her unspoken feelings or the fragile balance of your relationship.

This has become out of control.

You’ve become insane, haven’t you??

I mean- at first, Jinx didn’t even notice the depth of your little obsession. She’d connect the clinginess as an endearing gesture, even comforting. A gesture that you were fully trusting her now. Jinx had always been starved for affection herself, and your constant attention felt like it was healing her own wounds.

But as your behavior worsened, Jinx.. began to feel smothered.

The amount of you can recount that you’d stepped out of line made you feel sick the more you thought about it.

Like, even though this was unintentional, you had begun to subtly discourage Jinx from exploring the island on her own. Every time Jinx suggested going off by herself, you'd find excuses to tag along or subtly guilt-trip convince her into staying.

“I thought we could spend the day together. Aren’t I enough company?”

Your nightly checks had grown more intrusive. Instead of just brushing Jinx’s hair aside and leaving like you used to do, you’d linger, sitting by her bedside for hours, watching her sleep to ensure she was “safe.”

And as your behavior escalated, the thoughts of what you were doing became overwhelming, as you had become hyper aware of the fact that this was in fact becoming out of your control, how your clinginess worsened, everything.

You feel powerless. Too powerless to stop yourself.

Your loneliness and fear of abandonment—rooted in those centuries of isolation.. they only feed into your cycle.

You’d begun suppressing your emotions around the woman, sabotaging her independence, panicking at any separation.

And she finally picked up on all of it.

Though at first, Jinx didn’t not notice the depth of your obsession. Your constant attention felt like it was healing her own wounds.

But as your behavior worsened, Jinx had begun to feel smothered.

“You’ve been acting kinda weird lately, angel,” Jinx said, a playful lilt in her voice as you two sat together. She threw a pebble toward the water, watching it skip.

“Y’know, you don’t have to stick to me like glue. I’m not going anywhere, so you can chill.”

Your laugh came a little too quickly, a little too forced.

“I’m just looking out for you, Pixie.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow, side-eyeing you at your response.

“Yeah, but looking out and hovering are two different things.”

You brushed the concern away with a soft smile, changing the subject almost instantly. Jinx let it go that day, but the unease lingered. She was used to people being interested in her, fascinated even (I mean with the Jinxers and all).

But this? This was starting to feel different.

And as days turned into weeks once more, and your behavior didn’t just persist—it grew.

You were always there: waiting by the door when Jinx left her room, hovering close whenever Jinx tinkered with something, insisting on being around for every little thing.

It didn’t take long for Jinx’s patience to wear thin.

“Why do you always have to hover?” Jinx snapped one day, her voice sharp with irritation. She was sitting cross-legged on the ground, pieces of a broken gadget sprawled before her. You were kneeling far too close, watching her hands move.

You flinched at the sudden question.

“I just want to help you—”

“I don’t need help!” Jinx interrupted, throwing her arms up.

“You think I can’t handle myself? ‘Cause I can. Been doing it my whole life!”

The words were harsh, sharper than Jinx intended, but they hit their mark. Your expression faltered, guilt clouding your features as you took a hesitant step back.

Jinx, although frustrated, rubbed the back of her neck, trying to keep her temper in check. She shouldn’t lash out at you like that.. You’ll learn to back off.

“I get it, okay? You care. But, trinket… you’ve gotta let me breathe.”

The silence that followed felt heavy, as neither of you said anything after that.

But still, you were once again staring down at her hands while Jinx grumbled to herself and returned to her work.

And despite her frustration, Jinx wasn’t blind. She saw the way your expression tightened when she walked out of the room, the hollow look that sometimes flickered across your face when you thought no one was watching. And as much as Jinx hated feeling stifled, she couldn’t ignore the pain driving your actions.

One night, after another particularly tense day for the both of you, Jinx finally confronted you. You both were sitting by the fireplace within the parlor, embers crackling. And as she had begun to speak, her tone softened.

“Look, I’m not going anywhere, okay?” she said quietly, drawing your attention. The goddess, or you, had been staring into the flames, lost in thought.

“But you’ve gotta stop acting like I’m gonna vanish the second you blink. I’m not some dream you’re gonna wake up from, angel.”

Your lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. Your hands trembled slightly in your lap as you shifted a bit, averting your gaze.

“I get it,” Jinx continued, her voice steadier now.

“You’ve been alone for a long time… and you’re scared. But this? This isn’t how it works.” She looked at you, even if you couldn’t see it - she couldn’t help the way her expression was softening even further.

“You don’t gotta hold me so tight to keep me around. I’m not going anywhere without a reason.”

You nodded faintly as your eyes returned to look her in the eyes, even with how uncomfortable it was.

But the look in YOUR eyes told Jinx that the message hadn’t fully landed.

But the real breaking point of this entire thing?

God, how did that even start again..

It was a couple days later when Jinx decided to venture off alone, desperate for some time to herself. She’d left early, without telling you where she was going.

And by the time she returned hours later?

She found you in a state of panic, your eyes wide and frantic.

When you noticed her, you immediately rushed over to her and gripped her shoulders, checking her to see if she had any injuries or anything out of the ordinary.

“Where were you?!” You demanded, your voice quivering with equal parts anger and desperation.

Jinx blinked, caught off guard at your sudden harsh tone.

“What’s your deal? I just went for a walk.”

“You didn’t say anything! You were gone—I didn’t know if something happened to you!” Your voice cracked, your usual calm composure slipping entirely. It’s like you were entirely different..

You are different however, aren’t you?

“I told you, I can’t lose you!”

Jinx’s temper finally flared at those last words you spoke, scoffing in response.

“Lose me?! I’m not some possession you can just keep tabs on all day!” Her voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife.

“I can’t breathe with you around all the time! You say you care about me, but this isn’t care—it’s control!”

The words hit you like a physical blow. Bleeding out right in the pouring cold rain as it had once before.

You took a step back, tears already streaming down your face as you stared at her, arms wrapping yourself as a failed attempt to make yourself feel comforted.

“I’m sorry!” you choked out, your voice broken.

“I just… I can’t lose you! You’re all I have, Jinx. You don’t understand, you’re everything to me! You changed everything for me!”

Jinx faltered, caught between anger and guilt. Your desperation was raw, real, and heartbreaking.

But Jinx couldn’t ignore how suffocating it had become.

“This isn’t healthy,” Jinx said, quieter now but firm.

“You can’t live like this. And you can’t make me the only thing you’ve got.”

You almost instantly crumpled under the weight of Jinx’s words, retreating into yourself as you sobbed quietly. Jinx watched you, torn between frustration and empathy, unsure of how to fix what had shattered between the two of you you.

“..I’m sorry.”

And with that, you immediately rushed out of the palace from the door that Jinx had walked in from, never stopping for a second as she called out for you. You ran for as long as you could, never stopping for a second until you had collapsed to the ground from how long you had ran.

For as small as this island may seem, you’re somewhat shocked at how big it seemed as you ran through the forest, feet aching.

Eventually, you settled on resting on the forest floor, refusing to return to the palace.

Who would want to be there with a monster such as yourself?

Maybe the gods should just keep you locked up in a cage, where you could never harm anyone ever again.

In the days that followed, your absence was palpable. You withdrew entirely from being a part of Jinx’s life, ashamed of your own behavior and terrified that you’d ruined everything. You refused to eat, refused to even sleep some nights. Even with how tempting the idea of returning back to the palace seemed, you restrained yourself - reminded of what had happened days prior.

And so you remained on the island, simply lingering around anywhere where Jinx couldn’t find you (for the most part).

She’d seen your hair a few times, but when she had called out for you once more? You vanished.

As if you were never there to begin with.

Jinx couldn’t shake the memory of your desperation. She knew what loneliness felt like: what it meant to cling to something, anything, to keep yourself from drowning.

It’s because of that you’d become like this..

You were so kind, so calm and caring before. But this corruption had already sunk its claws into you, forcing you to anxiety and insecurity.

And eventually, Jinx sought you out.

She found you sitting alone at the edge of the beach, staring out at the endless horizon with your knees close to your chest.

Jinx sat beside you, the silence stretching between you both.

“Come to berate me?” You muttered, voice tired and wavering.

“What?”

“You’re justified for doing so.. I just… I don’t even know anymore. I can’t even apologize normally anymore because of these stupid feelings.” You buried your face into your knees, tears threatening to form within the corners of your eyes.

“I’m so sorry. You never deserved that, and yet I did it anyway. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a normal being, haven’t I? Being banished here, no human interaction for so long..” Jinx stared at you for a long moment before sighing, averting her gaze.

And then, she spoke.

“Y’know, it doesn’t have to be like this.”

You didn’t respond, but Jinx pressed on.

“You’re more than just… whatever you think you are to me. You’ve got this place, this life as a goddess. You don’t need to hang everything on me.”

You raised your head and turned it head slightly, your eyes red and tired.

“But what if you leave?..”

Jinx let out a small, almost bitter laugh.

“Yeah, well… you ain’t gettin’ rid of me that easy.” She nudged tour shoulder gently, her tone softening.

“But you gotta trust me. And more than that, you gotta trust yourself. You’re stronger than you think, trinket. You don’t need to hold me so tight to know I’m here.”

You didn’t reply right away, but something in your core shifted. It wasn’t immediate, and it wouldn’t be easy, but it was a start.

That feeling of hope once more.

Hope that you’d felt with her alone once again.

For both of you.

The rain pattered lightly against the palace windows, the warm air inside a comforting contrast to the storm outside. You moved through the halls, a plate of Jinx's favorite meal in your hands. Your expression was bright, softened by the anticipation of Jinx's reaction. You both had gotten on better terms once more, figuring out what to do so it couldn’t get so bad.

Of course, you still had a few issues to work through still.. but you were willing to do so for her!

"Pixie!" You called out with a cheerful lilt, your voice echoing down the corridor as you finally made it to the bluette’s room.

No response.

Your smile faltered slightly, but you continued forward nonetheless, pushing open the door to her room. You could see that Jinx was hunched over her desk, her posture stiff as she fidgeted with some new contraption she was working on. You felt your smile return, feeling more calm by understanding that she was busy and not ignoring purposefully.

You know she has quite the tendency to get lost within her work, focusing entirely on it and NOTHING else!

Quickly, you cleared your throat and approached the woman.

"Pixie? Are you alright? I brought you some food—"

"Get out."

The words were sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. You almost immediately froze in place, blinking in disbelief at the sudden harsh tone.

"Pardon?.." You asked softly, your voice tinged with more confusion than anything.

Jinx turned to face you, her eyes wild, her voice louder now.

“I said, get OUT! Are you deaf?!"

Your hands trembled at how she spoke to you, confused and concerned of what was going on. Carefully, you set the plate down on a nearby table before immediately returning your attention to the woman, determined to figure out what was causing all of this.

"Pixie… What's going on? Why are you acting—“

Before you could even finish, Jinx’s hand lashed out. The slap was swift and cold, and the worse part? She slapped you with what you KNEW was the hand with that metal finger of hers. The stinging against your cheek felt like it was burning, and the sound echoed in the room, followed by a silence so deafening it felt like everything just stopped in time.

You just stood there, stunned, one hand slowly rising to touch the tender skin of your cheek. Your wide eyes locked onto Jinx, who looked equally horrified, as though she couldn’t believe what she’d just done to you.

Your lips parted to speak, but no words came. And so instead, you turned on your heel and walked out, the door closing behind you with a soft click.

The days that followed were heavy with unspoken words. Jinx and you had barely exchanged a GLANCE since the incident, hell - barely even being in the same room together!! Jinx claimed she didn’t remember saying those things, but as for you… you weren’t sure anymore. Perhaps it was all part of the gods’ plan; to drive a wedge between you two, to make you suffer, as they always had.

So when they came to you in the middle of the night as you were at the beach, coming to tell you the most devastating news of your life. You haven’t slept all night after hearing them either..

And so now you’re here at the beach once more, your back against a jagged rock, your feet brushing the cold stone path. In your hand, you twirled a blue flower, its delicate petals soft and fresh. You sighed, your chest tightening as you heard the faint clinking of metal tools nearby.

Peeking out from behind the rock, you saw Jinx tinkering with another bomb. The sight made your heart ache. Her hands moved deftly, but there was a tension in her posture, a stiffness that reminded you of that very day.

You stood, clutching the flower tightly to gather the courage before you made your way toward Jinx. The sound of your footsteps were nearly drowned out by the rhythmic crashing of the waves.

“Someone arrived today,” you said with a blank tone, standing a little to Jinx’s right.

Jinx froze, her hands pausing mid-motion. You quickly continued.

“They said they’re taking you away… ‘that you’re not mine to save’.” You stepped closer, your voice trembling ever so slightly as you spoke.

“And soon I won’t get to see your face.”

With a delicate carefulness, you placed the blue flower behind Jinx’s ear, your fingers brushing against her hair as though you were handling the most fragile piece of glass in the world.

“So I came by to say: You’re unlike anyone I have ever known.” Her hand lingered near Jinx’s shoulder for a moment longer than needed, before pulling away.

“Because you’re all I’ve ever known.”

Tears brimmed in your eyes as you took a step back, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“The ones before you refused to tell me anything, refused to trust me. I knew nothing but their faces.” You elaborated, taking a deep breath afterwards.

“And if I pushed you, or if I came on too strong at any time, or if I ambushed you… for that, I’ll say I was wrong.” Your voice cracked, though you continued.

“And if you hate me..” the words came out like poison, bitter and sharp as the taste lingered on your tongue, tears threatening to spill.

“..then I am sorry for that, I truly am. But I’m not sorry for loving you.”

“Trinket..” Jinx’s voice was quiet, almost just that of a whisper, but you cut her off with a raised hand.

“Let me speak!” You cried out, raising your voice.

“I spent my whole life here! I was cast away when I was young. Alone for a hundred years! I had no friends but the sky and sun!” Your voice cracked as memories of your past flooded her mind. The years you spent alone, your freedom being taken away from you, watching all of your kind being murdered - your own father killed before you. Being forced to even participate in a war you never wished to..

“So when you washed ashore… I thought for sure that you were my dream come true. I thought I knew…” You paused, thinking about your next words.

“I don’t even know anymore.. that you’d like me? But I guess I didn’t, did I? That I was too foolish to think that? Huh?”

You turned sharply, your tone cold.

“So I guess this is goodbye, Jinx. I hope you’re happy… after all, you’ll never see me again.”

You began to walk away, tears streaming down your cheeks. You can’t watch her being taken away. As much as she hurt you, you just can’t.

“Trinket, wait!” Jinx’s voice was doused with desperation — but just as Jinx reaches where you had been moments ago, you were gone. Fading into some sort of mist like an unreachable dream.

The ocean wind whips around her, carrying the faint echoes of your words, reminiscing around as if to taunt her further about the crushing reality that is her future.

And she stands there, not knowing what to do.

[dammit-tazmuir]

@grievingbovine I am always happy to gush about Paul ;w;

Also I feel like... I'm not sure if it's more "codependency isn't always bad" or "codependency is a term we've grown to use too liberally when what should actually be the defining factor isn't the behaviors involved but whether or not those are actually hurting the people involved" or something in between or adjacent to that. It also feels like there might be kinda two definitions people use interchangeably? One being the more medical term and the other a looser thing of like, deeply dependent on each other.

But semantics aside I know what you mean, and yeah.

It is, generally speaking, unhealthy to be SO dependent on a SPECIFIC person that you can't live without them. Cam and Pal post-explosion had a very unique situation, whereas for most cases in real life, it's better to at least like... need SOMEONE, a purpose, a cause, but also be capable of seeking a new one if you lose that, after time to process and grief. A Camilla whose whole life revolved around Palamedes but didn't get him back learning to live again for Nona, as a hypothetical, or Harrow who would not let herself survive alone but can live for God and for Gideon and for Alecto and for the memory of those lost to conceive her and who may find other purposes still. Ofc no one is arguing Harrow is healthy about that, but like, if you CAN'T find an internal sense of worth, a purely external one is still infinitely better and healthier than none!

It feels very silly but a straight up life-changing thing for me as someone who does the same shit was the anime Gurren Lagann throwing around the phrase, "believe in the me who believes in you." Over time it morphed into "believe in the you that I believe in", and ultimately into having genuinely self-assurance, but taking even one or two of those steps is like... YEAH? Yeah! You know? External validation can be so meaningful and powerful, and isn't antithetical to internal by any means. If you can find it in even a handful of different sources, even better. A thing I try to tell people a lot when it comes to mental health too is you don't have to Get Better to get BETTER. It's not "you're unhealthy and must be fixed" or "you're 100% healthy in all ways". Less unhealthy and more functional than you were is amazing and to be celebrated actually!!!

But at the same time?

Ya know, no, I agree, I DON'T think it's a bad thing to need to NOT be ALONE. I understand the importance of being capable of surviving alone, at least long enough to seek new connections. And living for a person or cause is always easier than dying for them ("you could have lived for her, but you didn't know how"...), especially if you're living for their memory after they're gone, but people should try to do it anyway! But to just..... want to be devoted to someone? To thrive on supporting or caring for other people???

That's not what I'd call "toxic codependency", that's humans being a social species. Hell, that's looking at stories and seeing how many supporting characters are vital to helping a hero succeed and deciding "that sounds awesome actually! Not everyone needs to be the hero, I would love to be a supporting character!" Especially when you're not losing sight of your own needs in the process.

Like... Sacrifice and martyr mentality can be horrible destructive things that do more harm than good, but sacrifice is also objectively a major way people show love. Parents doing without a little more to make sure their kids get something nice, someone doing a chore they don't like because they know their partner hates it more, etc. The difference between "my needs aren't important, I'm not important, I'll always prioritize others because I don't take care of myself in general" and "I have weighed the pros and cons and decided that I can handle this and wish to put someone else first in this situation" is not always apparent from the outside but it's an extremely important distinction. There's a difference between being needlessly reckless and hard on yourself versus making a decision to achieve an end you want even though it costs you something.

Cam trying to hide how rough carrying Pal was on her wasn't her being needlessly reckless, it was her being a stubborn bitch who knows she's tough as hell. If anything people have more grounds to criticize her going against Pal's interests and wishes by not giving him information he needed to make properly informed decisions! To think that he was in any way taking advantage of her when she'd have found a way to kick his ass if he'd tried to force her to stop is wild lmao. (Not to mention Pal literally killing himself— he was still Around but objectively dead all the same!— in the "dying for someone is the cruelest thing you could do to them" book. Like he ain't making big sacrifices fueled by his love for and trust in her too smh.)

And honestly? Yeah that does sound like the kind of thing that could save the world. Our world would be a better place with less people striving to be main characters and more people eager to support each other. More people should be saying "No you will let me help you, you son of a bitch. Don't you dare tell me it's Too Much." >:( So many people are afraid of Being A Burden but more people need to understand— from the perspective of the person with that fear and as friends wishing to help someone who has that fear— that only the person offering help can decide what is A Burden to them! It's not the other person's decision to make!

Palamades didn't have a right to tell Camilla not to push herself to keep him around when that was her choice, and anyone fearing their loved ones sacrifice too much for them don't have a right to tell them to love them less, either. Sometimes— often, really— the alternative is worse. And part of me has to wonder if some people are averse to acknowledging that because if they did, then they'd have to acknowledge that letting someone else help you can be actively beneficial to them, and constantly refusing to ask for or accept help is in turn actively depriving them of something that would help them too. <.< Too bad everyone, gotta let people love you.

Locked tomb hot takes:

Insisting that the birth of Paul is only a tragedy because of the uneven power dynamics between Palamedes and Camilla as Necro and Cav invalidates Camillas autonomy and undermines her as a character capable of making her own decisions. It also undermines Palamedes constantly checking for consent. He understands more than most that there is an uneven power dynamic and actively works to respect her autonomy as much as he can while also respecting their bond/positions as necro and cav.

In a world where those who identify as men have no natural power over those who identify as women or neither, we can not apply the same cisheteronormative expectations of male behavior to male characters.

Camilla made every. Single. Choice. Willingly. She had reasons for it, and Palamedes respected that more than readers seem to. We get plenty of examples.

"What would you do if you discovered Camilla was a murderer?”

“Help her bury the body,” said Palamedes promptly.

“Sextus.”

“I mean it. If Camilla wants someone dead,” he said, “then far be it from me to stand in her way. All I can do at that point is watch the bloodshed and look for a mop. One flesh, one end, and all that.”

GtN chapter 30

NtN chapter 17

The relationship between these two may be codependent, but it's predicated on trust and consent. The whole way through. This is the life Cam wants to live. Becoming Paul was what *she wanted*.

I find it strange that some people think they know what's best for her more than she does, just because she's a cavalier.

[morbethgames]

The Recoding of The Bureau is Finished

I’m done recoding the game. All in all, it was honestly about what I expected to be slimmed off once I got a good look at some of the scenes. As I expected, 90% of that were from the first 3 chapters. I am a mix of emotions after arduously spending hours upon hours replacing gender variables one at a time by hand. Which unfortunately, I couldn’t think of another way for doing it, because all of the characters were using the same gender variables instead of independent ones for each character.

I’m relieved it’s done. Disappointed in myself that I had to do it at all. Irritated that some people decided to put the game on blast for it rather than give actionable suggestions on how to fix it. Excited to finally be able to continue writing both the extra scenes that need to be written and the main story. I honestly don’t know which one I’m going to continue with first.

Please leave feedback.

There are still no doubt one or two spots with maybe 1-2k words each that could be slimmed down, but that would require a lot of work for very little payoff. So yes, I’m comfortable saying, the game is almost 400k words long in total. 85k words per playthrough. That’s not including the extra scenes in the stats screen, because randomtest doesn’t go in the stats screen (to my knowledge at least, someone can correct me if I’m wrong). So you still have to play the game roughly 5 times and choose different choices to see everything it has to offer.

Is the game smaller? A bit, yeah. Is it 100-150k? It’s more than double that.

Now, that doesn’t say anything for the state of some of the writing. If I have to read someone nodding, or smiling, or ‘slightly’, ‘a bit’, or ‘a little’ something in my own work again, I’m gonna jump out a window. Obviously, back when I started writing this, I was very much influenced by Wayhaven. I’ve since grown out of that idea. Since the game has taken on an identity of its own, and while I will forever be grateful to that series and continue to support it, there’s gonna be some changes in the final version of this game. Less of what I said above, less ellipses, and the flirting (especially in the beginning) will seem much more down to earth and believable for the setting it’s in, with a bit of wiggle room since this is still very much a YA game.

Please leave feedback.

The rewrite will not be happening until the first draft of the game is fully finished. I refuse to get stuck in a rewrite phase, mostly because I would just find it way too boring.

My patreon will continue to have static fiction on it, as well as sneak peeks into upcoming stuff. In case you’ve been missing it, Love In Stasis is up to Chapter 6 at this point, with more to come. I’m also thinking about potentially starting a horror static fiction.

I’ll be relying on people to playtest this new version of the game to tell me about any continuity errors, and gender errors, any anything errors. So please, play the demo. Let me know if you notice anything. I think if I’ve proved anything at this point, it’s that I act and fix things based on feedback.

And pettiness.

But mostly feedback.

Please leave feedback.

Last thing I’ll say; I’m gonna stop saying I’m bad at coding. Someone who’s bad at coding wouldn’t have been able to implement the text boxes and fine tune them. Someone who’s bad at coding wouldn’t have been able to code Golden Eyes. Someone who’s bad at coding wouldn’t have been able to slim down the game that much from where it was. So it’s time I give myself the credit of someone who at least knows what they’re doing. I’m not adept at it, but I’m certainly not bad at it either.

I’m still expecting the game to end up over 500k words when all is said and done. It will not be one million words, but I’m actually kind of happy about that. This is proof I’m still working on this game, and the next time it updates, it will have new content. Thanks for those that are patient and stick around, your support does still genuinely mean a lot.

Please leave feedback.

Stay Brilliant,

-Vi

P.S. Please leave feedback.

🛡️Patreon | Forum Page | Demo Link🛡️

[eliza-and-her-monsters]

the tortured poets department

a story told in multiple parts

vi x reader

Info Post

Moodboards

Contains: college au, dark/light academia, writer reader, singer reader, neurodivergent/autistic reader (i’m autistic so i’m writing from my own experiences), sporty vi, hockey player vi, big sister caitlyn, best friend ellie williams, roommate ellie williams, will contain other familiar characters you know and love as well as some potential ocs. no use of y/n, reader does have a name because it’s just easier for me to write that way 🖤 ALSO- Jayce is aged down because I want him to be 😌

WC: 4.5k

TW: talk of severe mental illness and brief mention of psychiatric facilities

A/N: chapter one is officially live! if you’re just stumbling across this and haven’t checked the main info post yet please do for more info! hope you enjoy! 🖤

part I

you’re on your own, kid

Whenever most people got acceptance letters to Oxford they were ecstatic, elated, overjoyed. Somehow whenever I got mine all I felt was a sense that I had failed. It was a juxtaposition of course, it was always expected from my family that I attend the same university they had and every other generation before them had. So in a way I had done the opposite, just maybe not in the right order, and a hefty amount of rejection letters in my midst. Including the one currently being held in my shaky hand right now.

Ms. Kiramman,

Thank you for submitting your manuscript to our publication house. Unfortunately right now we are unable to offer you an opportunity for further publication.

“Please, they wouldn’t know good literature if it hit them in the face.” Caitlyn scoffed from her spot next to me as the student shuttle jostled us in our row of seats.

“Is every other publication house that denied me unable to recognize good literature as well?” I whispered from where my cheek stayed pressed to her shoulder.

I know what a lot of you were probably thinking at first glance, but Caitlyn was a good big sister. She was harsh, severely left brained, exactly everything our parents wanted in a child, and quite possibly the polar opposite of me. But in all honesty she was my best friend. My biggest supporter whenever my parents weren’t. It was her who had harassed all of those literary agents to even get me the chance to submit my works to publication houses in the first place because I was too scared to do it. And it was I who failed every single time.

“Yeah actually, they are. Honestly Mills, there’s so much trash in modern day poetry right now you might be better off.” She sighed, reaching a hand over to click my phone off slowly as the shuttle rumbled to a stop. “This is you!” She tried to plaster on a fake cheery voice with a pat on my back as if to get me to finally lift my head where my cheek was already an irritated red for being hid in her sweater.

“I still don’t get why you couldn’t just let Ellie and I take the extra room in that big student house you just moved into.” I huffed, lifting a hand to readjust my glasses before rising up to my feet and reaching for one of the suitcases carelessly tossed on one of the adjacent rows of seats.

“Because lovey, you need to make some of your own friends. This is uni, Millie, we’re both in completely different colleges and I just- I don’t want you to get too lonely.” She frowned, glancing back at me as she rolled the other suitcase behind her. “You guys don’t wanna room with a bunch of upperclassmen anyways.”

“I do have my own friends, I have Ellie.”

“As much as she is a great roommate, friends besides Ellie, it’s good to have more than just two whole people on campus to talk to.” Caitlyn pressed on just before striding towards the entrance, leaving me feeling like I needed to speed walk just to keep up given the fact she was nearly a foot taller as well.

The student apartments were definitely nicer than the usual underclassman dorms. In all honesty I really should’ve been grateful, it was just another luxury of being a Kiramman. Whenever your parents paid for half of the buildings on campus you usually got better accommodations. Not that either of them originally liked the idea of me even rooming with Ellie. A loudmouthed foreign exchange student from America I met during another one of those incredibly expensive wellness retreats my parents sent me on to see if they could find a ‘cure’ for what was actually just a heavy amount of autism and severe ADHD.

The only person who really seemed to understand that there wasn’t one and it was just simply who I was was Caitlyn. To a degree as much as she could at least. Sometimes though I could tell she forgot.

“I think Ellie said she beat us a while ago.” She chimed in as we approached the door decorated with a slightly chipped gold number.

“She got here early because of hockey stuff.” I answered, already bouncing on the balls of my feet to see how she had managed to make the flat into a sea of chaos already. She wasn’t exactly the cleanest person, luckily her energy seemed to mesh with mine easily enough though.

“Oh! You never mentioned she made the hockey team! I know a few girls on the team you could probably talk to.” She shot a hopeful smile back at me before lifting a fist to knock on the door.

It swung open before she could even make a second tap to reveal a frazzled looking Ellie haphazardly clutching a hockey stick. “Thank God you’re here! I was trying to practice my swing and- fuck, we are so not getting that deposit back, Millie.”

“Oh dear god.” Caitlyn cursed, already wincing in dread before stepping through the door into the messy flat. “I’m sure our dad can- do something. What did you manage to break and why on earth did you decide practicing your swing indoors was a good idea?”

“For your information I didn’t break anything! There’s just a- tiny dent in the wall.”

I hummed a bit to myself as I stepped over the plethora of unpacked bags currently covering the floor. “It’s definitely more than tiny.” I chimed in as I poked at the noticeable dent in the drywall.

Caitlyn released a long and heavy breath and shook her head, as if to try and keep herself from making her own dent in the wall. “It’s totally fine. I’ll just- say that it was there whenever you guys moved in!” She shrugged with another anxious clear of her throat as she pulled my luggage in behind her. “Which room is free, Els?”

“Oh, I gave her the room in the front. I know she likes it dark and the lighting in there sucks.” Ellie answered as she shuffled off behind us. “There is one window in there that can get pretty killer in the mornings.”

I tensed a bit at the sight of the double window facing towards the bed. Yet another one of the aggravating little quirks that came with my neurodivergency, light sensitivity. As far as I could remember I always preferred the darkest of places. And now Caitlyn was cursing again, rushing towards me to take my hands into her own as if I was already on the verge of panic.

“It’s okay- I can get you a pair of a blackout curtains asap and you know how dreary it is in Oxford anyways-“

“Caity- it’s fine. I’m not going to have a meltdown over a window.” I interrupted her ramble with a shake of my head. Sometimes I felt like she still thought I was that same teenage girl that didn’t have a handle on her emotions. Not that I was far from it exactly. Now I was just an almost 20 year old girl who had a slight hold on her emotions. That’s what the writing was for.

Her eyes still held the same amount of concern though, getting that same little crinkle in between her brows as she nodded. “Okay, I’m still getting you blackout curtains though.”

“They’ll definitely be appreciated.” I said with a forced tiny smile.

“Well, I really wish I could stay and help you unpack but I have a meeting with the Brooks Society and everything but… I really do hope I’ll see you both tonight at the pub for fresher’s week?” She grinned hopefully once more as she squeezed the life out of my hands.

“Oh, I-I don’t know. We’ve barely settled in and-”

“I’m down.” Ellie chimed in from behind me as she trotted back into the door frame. “I’m gonna be relishing in the fact I finally don’t need a fake.”

“Ellie…” I groaned as I shot her a glare over my shoulder.

“What? Mills, it’s the first day of fresher’s week, we might as well be committing a crime by not going out tonight!” She exclaimed with a dramatic throw of her hands in the air.

“It’s true, and as much as I would love to keep you away from my degenerate friends, well, it might be good for you.” Caitlyn agreed with another casual shrug.

“You’re not gonna give me a choice, are you?” I questioned causing her to shoot a knowing look towards Ellie over my shoulder.

“Probably not.” She answered before stealing a look down at the expensive watch wrapped around her wrist. “Well, I’ve gotta go but… you’ll text me if you need anything, right? I don’t want you to feel like you can’t because of what I said earlier because you always can I just-“

“Caity- it’s fine. I’m fine, I promise. I- I’ll see you tonight.” I stammered in hesitation, and I’d definitely be hearing about it later. But luckily right now she seemed willing to just let things go.

“Okay, good… great. Now- get in here, pipsqueak!” She exclaimed, the familiar nickname she had been calling me since she hit her growth spurt and I yet to do so making me roll my eyes as she pulled me into a tight hug. One of those sisterly hugs I always clung onto a bit longer. Ever since I was younger no place had felt safer than Caitlyn. And in so many ways sometimes I looked at her as being more than a mom than our actual mom. I knew I needed to find other safe places though. “I love you, you know that right? I promise. This is going to be a good thing.”

“I love you too, Caity.” I sighed softly as I felt her lips press to the top of my head before the two of us pulled away.

“Els, take care of my baby sister or else I’ll have your head on a stick? Got it?”

“Crystal?” Ellie finally spoke up again with wide eyes as her hand made the ‘okay’ symbol.

“Good.” Caitlyn spoke before trotting back off towards the front door, “I’ll see you both tonight and send you the details.” And with a charming smile she was headed out.

Ellie instantly let out a shiver the moment the door closed. “Has anyone ever told you that your sister’s scary as fuck?”

“Many times.” I answered simply just in time to see Ellie’s face fall ever so slightly.

“So, I’m guessing it was a no from the latest publication house?”

“How could you guess?” I frowned as I slumped against the wall like I was going to resign myself to the floor.

“You had that aire of discouraged defeatism whenever you walked in.” She explained as she sidled up to me. “Cheer up, Mills, modern poetry is so cringeworthy nowadays you might be better off going for songwriting anyways.” She added as she gently rubbed at my clothed arms.

“If I can’t even get a publication house to take me seriously then what makes you think I can actually get a songwriting deal?” I spoke as I finally pushed myself off of the wall.

“One of the most popular songs out right now literally has the lyrics, ‘that’s that me, espresso’ in it.” She rolled her eyes a bit to herself as she finally knelt down to grab the bags she had still yet to unpack.

“No Sabrina Carpenter slander in this apartment, Williams. You know I’m an OG. And I can relate to desperation.” I frowned in embarrassment as I crossed my arms across my chest.

“Yeah yeah yeah, come and help me unpack, will you? Maybe we can find you something to wear tonight.”

“What’s wrong with what I have on?” I exclaimed almost in mild offense as I gestured towards the outfit that definitely had been hastily picked out. But it wasn’t like it wasn’t cute- ish at least.

“Nothing, but care bear sweaters and leggings seems more like a comfy day outfit than a ‘going out to the pub’ outfit.”

“I thought it was going to be a comfy day until you completely blew my cover!”

“Sorry babe, but I agree with your scary as fuck sister on this one. You need to get out more. Experience the pleasures of fresher’s week and you can take that in any way you want!” She shot a wink over her shoulder as she made her way down the skinny hallway to kick open her own door where a brutal floor to ceiling window already angrily cast its light on the room causing me to flinch.

“We could always pretend to be girlfriends again if you want people to leave you alone in a, you know, romantic way.” Ellie added as she rushed across the room to pull the curtains shut and pat the empty space on her bed. Probably the only time it’d actually be made all semester.

“Nah, if we do that too many times people will know we’re lying so best not to even start.” I answered as I took a seat on the side of her bed.

“Well if that’s the case, how does this shirt look with… this flannel? What do you think? Chick magnet?” She grinned before whipping out a red and black checkered flannel from the mostly empty closet and pulling it on over the basic black band tee she already wore with a flourish.

“Maybe if they’re emo?” I said with a little shrug as I scanned the band logo on her t-shirt causing her to groan in defeat.

“Still… somehow… always chronically bitchless.” She voiced before plopping down on the squeaky university issued beds. Though we were at least lucky enough to have double beds, it definitely wouldn’t leave anything to the imagination if either of us decided to do any nsfw activities in them. Somehow I didn’t feel like we’d have that problem though.

“Shush, you’re not chronically bitchless. You have me!” I teased as I gave her shoulder a playful shove where she dramatically flopped onto her back.

“So bitchless then?” She reiterated with a lifted brow as she glanced over at me.

“At least you’ve actually managed to kiss a girl once or twice.” I scowled as I inched over onto my side. Already catching myself pulling closer towards her.

“Just so we’re clear, I did offer.”

“Yeah, only to get your first kiss out of the way.” I scoffed, though I curled up to her either way. Closing my eyes as I placed my head on her chest I hadn’t realized how tired I had felt in the past 24 hours. They had been rough, a sea of anxiety and those exact meltdowns that Caitlyn was afraid of me having and her not being there to talk me down from.

“And? The offer never stopped standing.” She spoke just before I could feel her arms wrapping around me.

“Good to know, Els, I’ll let you know if I ever need to get a pity kiss from my best friend.”

“Oh shut up, it’s not a pity kiss. It’s me doing you a solid.” She remarked, as she nudged my foot with her leg. “You manage to get any sleep last night?” She wondered just before letting her hands trace soothing circles on my back. I only shook my head as I felt the sting behind my eyes before I could even take any steps to stop it. The way you felt whenever you were already on the verge all day and someone finally asks if you’re okay. Curling my fingers into her flannel the annoying tears already soaked into the fabric of her shirt. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

A shake of my head only followed, I didn’t know how to put anything into words really. How to explain to people that just wouldn’t understand no matter how much they meant well and wanted to. How was someone even supposed to explain the fact that you were one of the most celebrated families of the most prestigious university in England yet somehow you still felt like the only person who didn’t belong here sat on top of a mountain of rejection letters? Perhaps you could rather easily. But to actually say the words ‘I’m pretty sure I only got in because I’m a Kiramman’ were a whole different story. It’s why I took all those years off in the first place. I wanted to delay the inevitable of my dad paying off the admissions directors again while staring at me with the level of disappointment he never had to with Caitlyn.

I hadn’t even realized the simple tears had turned into full out sobs until I heard Ellie’s gentle shush from above me and her arms holding me even tighter to her chest as she did so. “You’re gonna be okay, Mills. I promise. We’re gonna be just fine.”

~

I hadn’t even noticed I had dozed off until my eyes cracked open again, noticeably faced away from the window and tucked underneath Ellie’s covers. My glasses sat propped up on her bedside dresser already casting a noticeable blur of the world around me. Meanwhile hushed voices seemed to speak from out in the hallway, walls much too thin to hide the noise.

Fighting back a yawn I shoved myself up onto my elbow to wipe at my dysfunctional eyes before stretching a hand out to pluck my glasses from the nearby table. Though I only jumped as the door was pushed open and Caitlyn’s tall figure popped up into view. “Hey pipsqueak, Ellie told me you weren’t feeling the best after I left.” She said carefully as she grabbed my glasses to hand them over.

“I wished she wouldn’t have.” I grumbled as I slid them onto my face only to hug my knees to my chest and glue my eyes to the bedsheets below.

“Why not? Isn’t that exactly what I told you to do? Mills, I would’ve stayed-”

“But- I-I don’t wanna keep you from your responsibilities anymore, Caity!” I exclaimed with a frustrated groan, already digging at my eyes again while my head only throbbed from the aftermath. “I don’t want you to have to tell this really important college society that you can’t be there for your obligations because your mentally ill sister needs you to rescue her again!”

“You are my responsibility, Amelia!” She snapped, the use of my rarely spoken full name making me wince as she pointed a stern finger at me. “You will always be my number one priority because I’m your big sister and it’s my job to protect you, no matter what. And I don’t care what kind of deep shit I get into with the criminology department, okay? Because you come first, always!”

I tried to gulp back the same pathetic tears, but it turns out after you cry yourself to sleep for the millionth time maybe there really is a limit. “I didn’t miss anything, did I?” I spoke up after a moment of silence, feeling Caitlyn’s arm stretch around my shoulder as she took the spot next to me.

“No, but I did do some thinking and if you really don’t wanna go then I don’t wanna pressure you.” She frowned, almost looking down in mild guilt until I leaned my head against her shoulder.

“No… I do. I wanna go and make friends and new experiences and- t-try to be normal.”

“Lovey, you are normal. It’s the world that isn’t.” Caitlyn frowned as she leaned her head against mine. Thankfully she only hesitated a moment though before she cleared her throat and spoke again, “If you wanna go though we should probably start getting ready. If you want me to help you?”

“Maybe you can help me figure out what to wear? And do my hair in those little braids with the clips? And help me with my eyeliner?”

Caitlyn snickered a bit as I lifted my head from her shoulder. “The eyeliner might be a little tricky but I can certainly try. Are you forgetting the prom incident where I quite literally gave you an eye infection?”

“That was definitely just because of the glitter.” I shrugged before swinging my legs over the side of the bed and finally pushing myself up to my feet.

“The eyeliner pen straight to the cornea certainly didn’t help.” She reiterated.

Despite the various complications of having two not at all femme lesbians help me get ready though, I don’t think I looked too terrible afterwards. I had settled on a simple black dress that fell just above the knee with little bows sat atop the straps. English autumns could either be comfortable or frigid though and the current temperature definitely wasn’t comfortable so Ellie tossed me one of her blue flannels to wear over top. Of course claiming it’d be a calling card for all of the hot lesbians, if they didn’t assume we were together first.

Calling the pub a ‘pub’ in an of itself was definitely generous. Besides the one or two older people having their relaxing evening out ruined by the loudmouthed 18+ filling the joint it felt more like a club than anything. Music blasted from the speakers as we stepped inside, Caitlyn on one side with a protective arm around my shoulders and Ellie on the other who looked more and more like she was never returning to America by the second.

Caitlyn immediately dragged us downstairs where most of the students had taken over. It wasn’t hard to figure out which group of friends were hers. It was the largest one, who had currently swallowed the entire center of the room it seemed filling up leather stools and couches with red decorative pillows. “Oi! Cait! Over here!” A familiar voice echoed from the large group, popping his head over everyone and waving the lot of us over.

“Jayce? I thought he finished his masters last year.” I tried to speak over the noise where Caitlyn wrinkled her nose in response.

“He did, guess the old man just can’t get enough of us.” She answered, giving my arm a comforting squeeze as she pulled me along beside her.

The group was probably the most eccentric lot I had ever seen as we approached the cluttered table. Covered in empty and full beer bottles and other fruity drinks along with half burnt out cigarettes. A spread of tarot cards belonging to a skinny girl with the longest and brightest blue hair I had ever seen was currently being scooped up as well causing my eyes to widen in curiosity. A chorus of Caitlyn’s name followed as usual, the usual life of the party whenever I wasn’t there and she didn’t have to babysit. I had almost managed to successfully tune most of the chaotic noise out though until I heard my name followed by the tightening of Caitlyn’s arm around my shoulders once more.

“Lads, this is my baby sister, Amelia. Treat her well or else I’ll kill you slowly and painfully.” She said with a little grin just as a stool was pulled out from where a pink haired individual sat manspreading on the plush couch.

“Have a seat, cupcake, we don’t bite.” The girl smirked as she sat forward almost curiously. Also an American.

“I especially mean that towards you, Vi.” Caitlyn’s expression morphed into a glare as she watched me cautiously lower myself onto the seat like it was going to give out below me any second. “Oh, and this is Ellie- Ellie Williams. Also a fresher. Ellie, Mills, this is… Jinx, Ekko, Jesse, Dina, you obviously know Jayce, Abby-”

“Bitch.” Ellie mumbled underneath her breath causing my eyes to widen for the thousandth time as she took the open seat next to me. “She totally knocked my lights out during practice today.”

“You have to have at least one light on to have them knocked out, Williams.” The muscular woman stated as she brought a glass of amber liquid up towards her mouth.

“Wow, didn’t realize hockey rivalries on the same team were a thing.” Caitlyn fought back a laugh as she went to take an empty seat of her own.

“Oh you have no idea.” Ellie grumbled a bit to herself as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Williams? She yours?” Vi cleared her throat as she nodded in my direction.

“Who? Amelia? I-I mean I wouldn’t complain but we’re just friends.” She answered immediately causing Vi’s eyebrows to lift.

“So- no intense feelings you guys are harboring or anything?” She questioned again as she stole glances between the two of us.

“Unless there’s something she’s not telling me?” Ellie wondered with a lifted brow as she looked towards me as if in confirmation. And it was then I realized how tightly I was clutching onto her hand below the table.

It wasn’t as if the two of us hadn’t thought about it. It wasn’t as if I had spent a solid number of nights in her bed whenever things got really tough. Ultimately though we had decided what we had as best friends was far too intense or precious to fuck up over a relationship. And also just the sheer fact that dating somebody you met in a psychiatric facility disguised as a ‘wellness retreat’ was probably a bad idea.

“No, just best friends.” I answered in a small voice with a simple shrug.

“Okay, so you won’t mind if I buy her a drink then?”

“Careful Vi.” Caitlyn growled from her spot on the couch across from her.

“Ummm, can you buy me a song on the jukebox instead?” I asked, and to my surprise a series of impressed sentiments filled the table. My eyes only furrowed in confusion however as I peered towards Ellie or Caitlyn for help, “What?”

“Because Millie, that was smooth as fuck.“ Ellie answered almost drawing a little laugh from my end.

“Lucky for you, doll, I can buy you both.” Vi spoke as she held a bruised hand out for me to take.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel any butterflies blooming in my chest at her words. The feeling of my heart kickstarting as I placed my hand in hers and let her lead me towards the bar. Her hand was warm and rough in my own, calloused but not in the way Ellie’s were from the constant plucking on her guitar. They were calloused in a far more aggressive way. I should’ve known I was heading towards my own demise in that moment. Falling down a hole I’d lose myself entirely in. An electric pull on my heartstrings that kept me close to her.

Fuck, I should’ve known it was only the start.

A/N: I AM SOOOOO EXCITED TO GET THIS UP!!!! I wanna know all your thoughts!! Tell me everything!! I’m so so SO beyond excited to write more of this I’m screaming!!

Also- psa I know a ton of characters don’t talk/aren’t really in this one. I promise they will be further on! Just need to get an establishing shot first! 🖤

[kukuandkookie]

The end of 2024 has proven that 2025 seems to be a huge year for donghua and I’m gripping everyone to give all these donghua besides just the most popular ones a chance!!!:

Link Click, Yingdu arc: releasing December 27, 2024

Nezha 2, sequel to Nezha 2019 aka Nezha zhi motong jiangshi, confirmed for January 2025

To Be Hero X, likely April 2025 release (I hope people will also support the version with Chinese VAs! 🙏)

Lord of the Mysteries, 2025 summer release—accompanied by more good news: the novel has officially entered the British Library and it will also be translated into English by Yen Press

False Memory, series version, confirmed 2025 release

I am making this post because False Memory just released its new trailer and I am very much so looking forward to it! The series started as an indie short before growing into a bigger thing, much like Fog Hill of Five Elements and The Legend of Luo Xiaohei and Alita’s Trial. We’ve thus been waiting a couple years for news so this is really exciting, especially after it recently got a Twitter account!!

Bonuses:

Ya She, released a couple months ago but late enough into 2024 I’d still love for more people to check it out!

Scissor Seven, another one that’s had its newest season out for a while now, but I assume that for those who have Netflix, it hasn’t been officially English subbed or dubbed yet. We’re also still getting trailers for its game!:

I Am What I Am 2, released Dec 14, 2024 in China!

Reminder that Mo Dao Zu Shi is now on Crunchyroll! They may have removed it from Tencent’s donghua YouTube channel for this, so definitely go support it if you do have Crunchyroll!

Some children’s donghua have also recently released, including news of the new Balala the Fairies season and the other magical girls show, Rainbow Crew! The latter is confirmed for an official release in English.

The Yi Ren Zhi Xia game is also coming soon to global, and Fox Spirit Matchmaker even updated their OP recently after quite a long time of silence.

And speaking of silence, even the long-awaited SVSSS donghua saw some movement recently!?

Now if I could get a confirmed 2025 release for White Cat Legend season 3 (and maybe God Troubles Me and Lie Huo Jiao Chou and Fei Ren Zai and All Saints Street and The Legend of Luo Xiaohei and Wo Jia Dashixiong Naozi You Keng etc…)), I could die a happy man (gender-neutral)—after watching all of these newly released donghua shows and films and seasons, of course ahaha. 🙏

For more news and info on donghua, you can check here:

There’s a bunch of new donghua information in the above document that came from 2024, even though they don’t have official release dates yet! Including but not limited to:

The announcement and PV of Call-Up Girls, based on a baihe manhua

The announcement of a Nirvana in Fire donghua, based on the danmei novel with a famous cdrama adaptation (with the manhua having recently gotten an official English license via Aloha Comics)

Trailer and announcement for 《向火而生》, based on Shui Qian Cheng’s danmei novel Blazing Armour

More announcements for Jing Wei Qing Shang, based on the popular baihe novel

Trailer for The Story of Rong Song, a spin-off of the famous Big Fish and Begonia movie

and many, many more…!

Hope everyone can join me in watching more donghua for 2025!! :D

[xinganhao]

a peek into the process that was making catch you when i can.

(1) vernon x rockstar!reader was largely unnamed for the most part. i only figured that it at least deserves a title when i revamped the series masterlist, but the answer was pretty instant.

i start (and end) the story with vernon and reader saying a variation of 'catch you when i can', which is established in part one as "something exchanged as often as 'i love you'." i feel like it captures the struggles of a long-distance relationship very well. it's also a shameless reference to the iconic leonardo di caprio and tom hanks film lol:

(2) this wasn't supposed to be a series, honestly. part two was my attempt to cope with svt's new york shows, and i was convinced that i would end it with the cliffhanger of rockstar!reader accidentally posting vernon on her main instagram. but the verse just wouldn't let me go— hence, the full-blown smau.

(3) the 'vernhow' style headcanons for part three are probably my favorite style of headcanons not only for this series, but also my entire blog. getting to play around with it was so fun. buried in it is the crux of what would eventually be the ending: "Everybody now knows that you, Chwe Hansol, have a girlfriend. Someone you want so bad that you'll go back on all the things you believe."

(4) when i first referenced john mayer's Edge of Desire in part three, i wasn't quite thinking of his 2010 hollywood bowl performance just yet.

i revisited it when i was facing intense writer's block for the final chapter and everything flowed easily after that. part five is best read with that version of the song playing (linked as suggested listening lol) because i wrote nearly the entire thing while looping the track.

↳ this part in the song reminded me of how part four's headcanons were entirely about vernon's definition of 'fight', and how— despite his willingness to keep going with the relationship— it's ultimately a two-way street. it doesn't matter how much one tries. if, at the end of the day, the two of you aren't in it together? then the relationship will end. plain, simple, harsh.

↳ in the first part, the headcanons touch on vernon not being a big believer in "long-distance relationships or relationships in general," which all completely change after he starts dating reader. the real clincher, though, is how vernon spends much of part five being a 'terrible' ex: unable to go without contact, still supportive as ever. as the song goes: he's scared you'll forget about him.

(5) part five intentionally uses the first nine or so panels from an outsider's perspective. i wanted to really drive home the struggle of their public relationship and how it might have taken its toll/strain on the couple. it's what eventually inspired the brief headcanons, ala-he said, she said.

(6) i almost made vernon specifically reference romcoms with airport reunions in the finale, but i didn't want to isolate readers who might have not seen said films lol. the movies that would have been referenced were love actually (2003) and serendipity (2001).

(7) my top three panels in no particular order are—

was obsessed with a panicked vernon going "my gorgeous princess wife babygirl" + very characteristic of him to suddenly swoon when one of his favorite bands is brought up + something about vernon wanting a do-over on his 'hard launch' is just. #real.

(8) Black Eye is first mentioned in a part two headcanon where reader performs it in a speakeasy in front of vernon. it's posed as the moment that vernon realized he might he in love.

this makes it all the more cruel how reader unwittingly jokes that Black Eye is a breakup song in part five. i chose to conclude the series on the track's anniversary for no other reason than me needing a specific deadline to wrap stuff up lol.

(8.1) i think i do recall having some of Black Eye bleed into the work, which might be evident in the following lyrics & consequent story parallels:

running 'round the whole city looking for someone -> ties in to part two, where the headcanons are based on how vernon and reader feel about new york city i can't stand the quiet/is anyone out there? is anyone out there? -> best encapsulated in how vernon continues to contact reader post-break up (also parallels mayer's 'i'm scared you'll forget about me') i'm on my worst behavior, don't stop me now -> in part four, vernon gets into a physical altercation with the press in defense of reader and he's adamant that he did the right thing i'm okay, i'll just let it burn around me -> best captures vernon in part five + another parallel to mayer, where a part in the song goes 'i'm just about to set fire to everything i see'

(9) ending this with what i anticipate to be part of the faqs, post-main story: why did vernon and reader break up just to get back together again?

the long answer: because people are messy. because we think we know best— for ourselves, for others— and so we act on those impulses in the name of self-preservation, or care, or whatever noble thing you want to call it. people are complex and complicated, and with that comes regret, romance, and everything in between.

"they should have just worked it out!" they did try. it's human nature to feel slighted when things don't work out in your favor. there's only so much tenacity that a person can have before they're cursing the universe for the cards they're dealt, so can vernon/reader really be blamed for fraying?

"the breakup was unnecessary!" i could argue that it isn't. say some bs about it being very necessary, in fact, for character development, plot progression (lol), 'not realizing what you have until it's gone'. the works. but admittedly? i agree.

we— vernon and reader included— make questionable choices. whether or not we double down, move on, or circle back is an entirely different story in itself. vernon and reader found their way back; not all of us are as lucky. but some of us can be, some of us have been, and that was enough for me to trust that the story would sail.

the knowledge that, at the end of the day, the love that 'wins' is the one that makes the work worth it.

the short answer: i just really wanted them to have a happy ending. god knows they deserve it.

thank you for reading and enjoying this little story! it was mine once, but it's all yours now. ❥

catch you when i can (vernon x reader)

⤿ a five-part series charting vernon's relationship with you, an international rockstar.

𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 —

✮ part one, the one with the origin story. ✮ part two, the one where vernon tours in your city. ✮ part three, the one where you go public. ✮ part four, the one about fighting. ✮ part five, the one where a choice has to be made.

ⓘ international rockstar!f!reader, long distance relationship, established relationship, use of pet names. fluff, angst. cussing.

annotations for the main verse.

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐒 —

there's nothing here yet! :)

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 —

with love, kae ✎ i adore this verse so, so much that asks (i.e. drabbles, headcanons, smaus) for it will be perpetually open, regardless of whether or not my main requests are open. as always, this wouldn't have come to light without the anon who asked for it in the first place! i'm eternally indebted.

thank you for reading catch you when i can. <3

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[carnatus89]

Shen Qingqiu triple trouble!

So, System Possession AU of @artsarasp is going through, stuff let's say. Angsty stuff. So of course my mind was like.

Let's make shen triplets!

The situation is, Shen Jiu has his fatal Qi deviation, Shen Yuan dies by choking on food and all is normal. But, some error occurs, and both Shen Jiu’s and Shen Yuan’s souls are in danger of disintegrating from the Qi deviation. The System notices this and tries to fix it, forcing the soul to generate a body to occupy from basically thin air. But there’s a problem, since there’s two souls that are now generating a body, meanwhile the original body is still functional, though has been metaphorically dragged through the mud. Thus, both Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan materialize with new bodies while the System is absorbed into the spare body.

So now we have three Shen Qingqius. And the System is Not Happy.

Neither is Shen Jiu to be honest.

Shen Yuan somehow convinces both the System and Shen Jiu that they should pretend to just be brothers, make some bullshit about trapped consciousness to fool the peak lords, while he wacks his brain to try to avoid death or punishment from the enraged System. Which can still give both points and punishments. The problem is that since he got the short end of the stick in the body lottery, he has to be very careful of exerting the body’s limits, so he can’t get agitated. And giving punishments is very agitating. Shen Yuan is basically trying to make the System care. If Wall-E can love, so can the System, wouldn’t it be better for the story if he becomes an active member? It would also be better to leave the story to develop itself organically, think about all the character development! So the protagonist can have a more round support cast! If he read something like that, he wouldn’t have criticized so much the papapa scenes since he could just focus on that! What do you think System-bro?

Meanwhile Shen Jiu is very conflicted, since these, what, fakers? Clones? Some type of demons? Are stealing his face and seem to have some ulterior motive, but both seem eager to ‘help him’ somehow. Granted, the blue eyed freak is creepy as fuck, a fake cherfulness that all his instincts scream to get away from, but he’s mostly… nice. The definition of the word, at least. The other fake is snarky, doesn’t really back down from a verbal dispute, and, while infuriating, it’s more real. Safer, in a way, more honest. Besides, the blue eyed one is useful when trying to find synonyms while writing or finding the name of a song he couldn’t remember well. They can stay, for now.

System is actually scared. They saved the scum villain character, but made a bigger problem while also becoming… vulnerable. How could they make sure the story functions if they have a weak and frail body? They are forced to play along, become a more direct support to the characters to make sure they stay in line. But [User02] seems to have other ideas, and while they must punish him, they really can’t without suffering themselfs. The original scum villain for the most part follows the script, but he also seems perturbed by their presence, which is fine. All is fine, they should be able to fix it.

Somehow.

The three of them are mostly the same in appearance. The major difference that the peaklords catch on is the mark on the forehead (I don’t remember what it is called). Shen Jiu has a lotus flower painted, Shen Yuan has a dot while the System has an empty circle, resembling a zero. Both Shen Jiu and the System have their clothes correctly, while Shen Yuan doesn’t really know how any of his layers of clothes work, so he fastened the belt around everyone, even the outer robe. Finally, the System has their hair tight to their head, Shen Jiu has it a little loose to let it flow but staying neat and clean. Shen Yuan just, tries his best. Finally, the System’s face is kinda cartoonish, they make faces that shouldn't be possible, stretching his smile wide and making their eyes a little too big. Both Shens don’t mention it much, they just say they’re special.

I don’t know what came to me to do this shit, but now’s here, deal with it.

Spanish rambling when this idea just came barreling through my brain.

[peppermintquartz]

When he hears that Tommy has to work on Christmas Eve, Buck tries not to pout about it at first, and then decides, heck it, if I can't sulk about my boyfriend not being able to spend Christmas Eve with me, when can I sulk? So he weaponizes his big blue eyes and unleashes the full force of his pout, sticking out the lower lip and - by dint of some emotional effort - brings some tears to his eyes.

"Oh no, you don't do that to me now," Tommy says, raising a finger and tilting his head in that special way he does to ward off Buck at his most manipulative. He's about 40-60 when it comes to the win-loss ratio on that technique.

Buck sighs and wrinkles his nose. "I was planning on a nice dinner here at home. Tree. Nog. Roast beast."

Reaching out, Tommy ruffles Buck's curls and smiles. "At least we can decorate the tree together before then."

"They better be paying you extra for taking the shift for Christmas Eve night."

"Yeah, they do. It'll be a nice contribution to our honeymoon fund." Tommy smiles at Buck, whose stomach does a happy little flip. Technically, neither of them have popped the question, but they already know the answer is yes, and so they have already set up a whole system to allocate their money. They'll be ring shopping next week, to take advantage of Christmas sales, and just the thought of it makes Buck warm all over.

Even so, he can be melodramatic for his own entertainment. Flopping back in his chair, he cups his right cheek, adopts a pensive stare out the window, and sighs extravagantly. "I do wonder what could possibly be so important as to warrant my handsome, charming, incredible and sexy firefighter pilot boyfriend to abandon me on the most festive night of the year?"

"You know. The usual."

Wait. Tommy sounds shifty. He's usually very honest, so him trying to hide something is... off. Buck sits up straight. "Tommy...?"

"I'm serious. The usual." Tommy's ears are flushed dark pink. He's a horrendous liar.

Buck narrows his eyes, and then raises an eyebrow.

"Look, I can't tell you. I genuinely cannot. But, uh, it's a cool thing, an international thing, and it's really one of the best things I've ever done and love doing as a pilot."

"Wow," Buck murmurs. "You don't usually talk like that about your job."

"It's just a job. Most of the time. Sometimes I have to fly into hurricanes."

"No hurricanes this year," says Buck with a resolute nod. "Santa would not like flying through one. You'd have to provide Santa with air support."

"He's done it before though. The reindeer know what to do better than us," Tommy mutters absently, and then he freezes.

Buck freezes also. He stares at his boyfriend. "Tommy?"

"Hmm?" Tommy pretends he isn't terrified.

"Are you flying with... Santa... on Christmas Eve?"

"What? Hahahah of course not, ahahaha. No." But the rictus on Tommy's face tells a different story, as do the few beads of sweat that have just materialized.

Buck's jaw drops. He whispers, "You are flying with Santa!" His eyes go wide with delighted revelation. "Santa's real?"

"Shhh! No one outside of the escort party is supposed to know. And, not flying with, just providing air support to cover for him so he doesn't show on the scanners. And don't tell anyone!"

Buck mimes zipping his mouth and locking it and throwing away the key. Then he 'unzips' his lips. "I can't bear it," he declares. "You are way too cool and I need to have sex with you right now."

"What?" Tommy snorts, and then shakes his head in disbelief. "Evan, you're not being serious."

"Like a lightning strike." Buck stands, fluttering his lashes and pouting again.

Tommy doesn't fight it this time.

[cripplecharacters]

Is it fine to write a Deaf character who received a cochlear implant in early childhood if I use it as a plot device for their eventual integration into Deaf culture? I would make it so that the implant fails and they reject any and all further attempts to integrate them into mainstream society with audism.

Hi!

It is fine to make a character who uses hearing aids or CI, full stop. And it is fine for those devices to work in some capacity. That is the lived experience of many d/Deaf individuals. You don't need to justify the character's aids or "offset" it somehow by having them not work.

Hearing assistive devices are not cures and do not make people magically hearing. But just the same, hearing assistive devices not working (or someone not using them) doesn't extra-validate their Deaf identity.

The Deaf pushback against CI (and hearing assistive devices in general) is that hearing parents often treat them as "cures" for their child's deafness and provide no other aids, or only provide support for their child to pass as hearing rather than giving the best access to information. Additionally, CI is an invasive surgery and can be dangerous, though it usually isn't.

There are plenty of Deaf people who use and like their CI or hearing aids. There are plenty who don't. It's such a broad community with so many different lived experiences. You don't need to feel like you must write a d/Deaf character one specific way. The guidelines we give here are to avoid inaccuracies, and things we'd like to see more of.

One thing I would love to see is someone who has CI or hearing aids and uses them when they want but has also had access to Deaf community and sign language from a young age. I know many people like that in real life and yet that's not representation I've ever seen in a story.

Your character's CI doesn't have to be a plot device. It can just be an aspect of their character. Have them involved in the Deaf community, absolutely! But you don't need to "make up for" a Deaf character who uses CI in any way, because hearing assistive devices and Deaf community are not antithetical.

Mod Rock

[cheshireliam]

"Wrapped in Wicked Romance (Part 3)" Story Event

Preview

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

This is the story of the moment the flowers of love blossomed after having experienced their evil—. 

That fateful night, I learned a forbidden secret and became a temporary Fairytale Keeper for a month.

One week after that, Vogel arrived from Germany. 

…

A few days after their arrival—.

Darius: I want Miss Fairytale Keeper to choose one of us to spend a full day with as lovers. 

And so, that kick started my day spent as his lover—. 

…

Darius: That won’t do, because we’re lovers today. 

…

Nica: I’ll tell you about myself. So you tell me about yourself too.

Nica: My Schnucki (sweetheart) for a day. 

…

Ring: Going on a… d… da… date… with you… I- I’ll do it just fine. Just you watch…! 

…

I must never fall in love. And yet—

There's no going back to how things were before I met you. 

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

How do you feel about aromantic idia

As a headcanon? I love (jokingly) bullying Idia for being a socially awkward and sexually repressed otaku, but personally I also like the idea of him being aromantic. He doesn't like attention focused on him and generally seems to prefer fictional characters (ie his waifus/j) to interacting with real people. However, I think it goes deeper than just that. There's many lines in his Suitor Suit card that hint at Idia being repulsed by romance (even if you remove the context of him being kidnapped and forced to wed a ghost):

"There's no reasoning with people who lose their minds over every little infatuation. Like, just keep your head down and focus on school!" (He prioritizes other things, such as school and dismisses things like crushes.)

"I could never swear my eternal love. There's no such thing, and I'm nothing if not honest." (Here, he denies the existence of "eternal love".)

"Love is just chemicals in your brain. And people call that fate? They're all nuts, if you ask me." (He describes the feeling of love in a cold, scientific manner when this isn't something most people would think that deeply about.)

"Don't leave me. Stay with me forever. ...Oof, these emo lines are killing me. I'm gonna steer clear of proposals for the rest of my life." (He makes fun of typical romantic lines and then outright states he doesn't ever want to propose to anyone.)

"Do whatever you want with me. Just get it over with!" (Idia conveys distress and wanting to quickly be done with the kiss/general romantic circumstances.)

"If you want to talk romance, I'm your guy. I'm familiar with all the popular fan ships in video games and manga. You might even call me an expert." (He diverts the topic of real-life romances to his hobbies; aromantics, contrary to popular belief, can still enjoy romantic media without being attracted to or having limited attraction to real people themselves.)

Beyond his Suitor Suit lines, Idia has expressed upset at romantic love being viewed differently than platonic love. In 6-76, during his post-OB flashback, Idia shows off Ortho to Styx researchers, who are appalled by what he has done. "Wait... You built your late brother?! But that's wrong, Mr. Shroud!" they tell him. To that, Idia says, "So it's romantic when a hero rescues his ladylove from the Underworld, but when I do the same for my brother it's wrong?" He's frustrated that the story about Hercules diving into the Underworld to save Megara is praised, but him going that same extreme distance to revive his loved one--an act of platonic love--is denounced.

Idia is also consistently a character that has been shown to enjoy optimization and efficiency. He doesn't like anything that overcomplicates what can easily be done or made easier by machines. For someone like him, who was raised in isolation and has to bear the guilt of potentially dooming a future partner to the Shroud family curse, I think he'd just say "fuck it" at some point and decide it's ultimately not worth that hassle. It could read like a justification for him if others ask why he never looked into finding a spouse, S/O, etc. Like he'd tell them it isn't worth his time or something to get them off his back.

Of course, this is just my personal headcanon and you're free to agree or disagree with me on it! (I support all you Idia yumes and shippers out there 😉) Let's remember that we're all here to have fun and to not take these things too seriously.

[httpsdana]

Please, make a hc model!reader x bfKenan Yildiz

Boyfriend Headcanon~Kenan Yildiz x Model!Reader

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

❖bf! Kenan is the type to be your biggest supporter. If he ever sees a billboard of you he'll take a picture and post it on his story, captioning it “my queen”

❖bf! Kenan is the type to have interest in your fashion world. He loves when you give him fashion advice, making his fits look sharper and more presentable.

❖bf! Kenan is the type to love attending events with you, knowing all he gets to do is stand by your side while you shine on your own.

❖bf! Kenan is the type to love mimicking your runway walk at home, though it's it's always done with pure admiration. He would strut dramatically into the living room, posing s he stood in front of you before saying, “you think they'd hire me as your partner?”

❖bf! Kenan is the type to always give you gentle compliments. He knows how hard the modelling industry can be, so he's always there to remind you how far you've come and how you've inspired others, never forgetting to mention how beautiful you always look, even after facing criticism.

❖bf! Kenan is the type to plan the most romantic getaways. With both of your busy schedules, you barely get any special time together, so he always makes sure this time is perfectly planned to help you both unwind after your busy weeks.

❖bf! Kenan is the type to always be cheering from afar. When he can’t attend your shows, he stays glued to live streams or Instagram updates, sending you live commentary like, “That dress is insane, but you’re the star of it!”

❖bf! Kenan is the type to always be next to you when getting ready for an important event. He has a ritual of helping you get ready. He’s the one zipping up your dresses, complimenting you endlessly, and making sure you have everything you need.

[tinkywinkyschauffeur2]

Ooh long post warning! There’ll be a TL;DR at the end but I feel in the mood to ramble.

There’s a neat little book called 101 Things I Learnt In Architecture School by Matthew Frederick that i fell in love with many years ago. I found it again recently and I was surprised at how many of the principles applied to writing and world building. There’s one part in particular called Being Process Oriented which I find myself coming back to whenever I feel hesitant to make any changes that will affect the canon and I find that it helps a lot.

(Below is a direct quote from the book. If it sounds like something anyone would be interested in there’s a copy on the internet archive, or you can support the author and buy the book too! :) )

Being Process Oriented

1. Seek to understand a problem before chasing after solutions

2. Don’t force fit a solution to an old problem onto a new problem

3. Remove yourself from prideful investment in your projects. Be slow to fall in love with your ideas

4. Make design investigations and decisions holistically (addressing several aspects of a design problem at once) rather than sequentially (finalising one aspect of a solution before investigating the next)

5. Make design choices conditionally - that is, with the awareness that they may or may not work out as you continue toward a final solution

6. Learn how to know when to change and when to stick to previous decisions

7. Accept as normal the anxiety that comes around not knowing what to do

8. Work fluidly between concept-scale and detail-scale to see how one informs the other

9. Always ask what if regardless of how satisfied you are with your solution

OC wise, these will apply mostly when you’re making deliberate choices in their story /major world building but 5 and 7 I find can apply pretty much all the time. 3 frustrates me but more often than not is true. However if something isn’t sitting right with your OC you’re more than welcome to change it. No one will change it if you don’t. You are ultimately the only one in the world who knows the complete extent of the lives that you hold in your head. Think of it like sculpting. Things will start out rough but eventually once you really know your OC I find that they tend to just tell you their story themselves, and all the fine details start slotting into place.

You are free to retcon as many things as you like. Things that I have retconned and then look back on are like artefacts of a person that I used to be that suited my artistic tastes at the time but I’ve since grown and they no longer fit. If you find yourself changing things it could be because it works better in the story or in the design, but also it could be that you’ve grown, and your understanding of character development has grown too.

Your OCs accompany you through this life, and naturally they’ll pick up some of the debris. Let it happen. Backspace and erase and wash away and crumple up as much as you need. Recycle the things you cut off and make the most beautiful sculpture of odds and ends. A scrapbook, a time capsule, of you and them.

TL;DR - Don’t be afraid to change things, because you’re the only one who can. Your OCs won’t draw or write themselves :)

I have a question for people with ocs cause I have this weird thing that’s blocking me from creating any art with mine, that if I don’t have their story finished then I’m afraid to draw anything related to the current story cause what if I change it? what if I change the characters designs again and then all the previous art is outdated? so the question is — does it bother you too or do you just go with the flow and draw them regardless? it might be a stupid thing really but it’s always in the back of my head when I think about my characters and universe that if it’s not finished then it’s not worth sharing with others