#also and I really hope this doesn’t come off as unkind | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

psychedelic-ink · 1 year

Text

𝑯𝑰𝑮𝑯 𝑬𝑵𝑶𝑼𝑮𝑯

pairing: dieter bravo x actress!reader x bodyguard!joel miller

genre: super duper explicit smut, actress & bodyguard au, minors dni

word count: 4.5k

summary: an afterparty, weed, drinks, a grumpy bodyguard, and an eccentric actor. What can go wrong?

warnings: mlm dynamics, threesome, blossoming feelings, messy two-person blowjob, piv, polyamorous, dieter has a praise kink, hair pulling, bdsm dynamics, high sex, getting high, this is an au where sarah was never conceived sorry, petnames all around (good boy/girl, sweetheart, darlin, honey), guidance kink, handjob, implied age gap reader being the youngest and joel being the oldest

a/n: you voted and here it is! This can be considered as a continuation of the drabble I wrote but you don't need to read that in order to read this. It just takes place in the same universe. enjoy! If you want to see more adventures of bodyguard!joel and actress!reader feel free to send requests xx

Joel is a grump.

He knows this. Everyone does. He’s been called many things before in this industry: unkind, an asshole, a fucker, a bummer, a grumpy old man. But despite all the negative feedback, he’s never been out of a job. When it comes to feeling safe and secure, everyone realizes that pleasantries aren't really a priority. After a while, he learned to let those remarks bounce off of him. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy having fun; it’s the fact that this industry is riddled with slimy, untrustworthy characters. You could be happily sharing a drink one moment, and the next you could find your drunken words being sold off to the highest bidder. He has a lot of stories, some of which he wishes he could forget about.

However, he's not a kid. Far from it, actually. So he also knows that not everyone fits the bill of assholery. He's met some nice people, worked for them, and thanks to those nice people, he met you— one of the biggest rising stars of your generation. You're actually quite kind— albeit a bit of a brat, but he's starting to realize that side of you might be reserved only for him. Most impressively, you've managed to knit yourself a loving, supportive circle. He met your family once and has a sneaking suspicion they had something to do with your good manners.

Family. He misses his. Tommy still lived in Austin, running a not-so-shabby bar.

Joel used to pride himself on not getting involved in his clients' affairs, but with you, that proved difficult.

A sea of people crashes into him, pushing him in the opposite direction of where he's trying to go. These Hollywood parties, they're always the same - loud music, annoying lights, and foaming glitter always coming from somewhere. He catches a whiff of champagne and strawberries. Rolling his eyes, he helps a director he barely knows who stumbles and nearly collapses on the shiny marble floors. With one swift motion, he grips her torso and lifts her back up. She slurs a drunken thank you and moseys off.

He hates it when you drag him to parties, and he hates it even more when you disappear. By some miracle, he spots you sitting down within the awfully lit room. You're wearing a mermaid-style dress (at least, that's what you told him prior to the event), which hugs your curves in all the right places. The fabric is covered in pearls, giving it a shimmering, iridescent quality that catches the light and reflects it into his eyes - thank fucking god, or else he suspects he'd never find you in this crowd.

His relief in finding you is short-lived when he sees who you’re sitting with.

Fucking Dieter Bravo.

You know he doesn’t like the man. Of course, you would sit with him just to spite Joel. That’s what he hopes this is anyway, he’s praying to every god he can think of (which isn’t many) that this isn’t a blooming friendship, or something else. He doesn’t think he can handle seeing that man more than he has to.

Ironically, Joel actually used to work with Dieter. It only lasted for about a week as Dieter was just too unpredictable and chaotic for him. A complete hedonist who was used to getting what he wants. Before Joel could resign, Dieter had fired him. Which was good, because Joel wasn’t sure if he would’ve actually gone and done it.

Joel feels a mixture of excitement and anxiety as your entire face lights up upon seeing him. With an open smile, you wave frantically and point to the couch across from the two of you. It's a tight fit, and his knees brush against both yours and Dieter's as he sits. The actor is holding a joint loosely between his fingers, looking up to Joel and nodding in a way that resembles an informal greeting. Joel notices the vibrant pattern of his button-up, the chain around his neck, and the rings on his fingers. Dieter takes a drag then offers it to you. Your gaze briefly meets Joel's before you take it from him. However, you don't immediately bring it to your lips.

“Where were you?” Joel asks loudly, trying to get his words over the sound of the music. “You can’t bring me to these things and then just disappear on me.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” you answer with an apologetic smile. Joel narrows his eyes and you bring the neatly rolled joint to your glossy lips. You take a deep, long inhale. He watches the way your body seems to melt unconsciously. You close your eyes. “I just saw Dee and you know his habit of disappearing as soon as you blink. Had to pounce him before that happened.”

Joel’s eyes drop to where Dieter slides an arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. He rests his chin on your shoulder, his eyes fixed on Joel. Your eyes flutter open and much to Joel’s surprise, you extend the joint to him.

“Don’t bother, sweetheart,” Dieter says, his lips too close to your cheek. Joel bristles unknowingly. “He has a stick up his ass.”

“Dieter!” you hiss, glaring daggers. “Behave.”

“I don’t smoke on the job.” Joel says, a bit smugly and enjoying the other man’s prominent pout. “Unlike some, I’m a professional.”

Dieter scoffs. The joint still lingers between your fingers, your gaze snapping to Joel. You accusatorily point at him, your brows drawn together. “And you—” you warn. “Don’t act so high and mighty. You’re off the clock remember? I invited you here so you would loosen up a little.”

What?

“What?” he blinks rapidly. “Why on earth would I need loosenin’ up? And why would I want to loosen up with you lot? This ain’t exactly my scene honey.”

“Because we’re friends, smartass.” you chide. The burnt tip of the cigarette is now closer to your fingers. With a sigh, Joel finally takes it, which provokes a burst of laughter from Dieter.

“She has you on a leash!” Dieter points out, fingers digging into your hip and moving over the pearls. “That’s fucking adorable.”

Joel grunts, “Shut up.” he takes the joint clumsily, holding it up to his lips. It’s been a while since he’s done this. When he does he usually prefers the privacy of his own home. Joel ignores the way your eyes are fixed on him, two wide eager eyes eating him up from head to toe.

He takes a deep inhale, his lungs expanding with smoke. Joel can taste the champagne you left behind. Goosebumps rise over his skin, a tingle, and a buzz making him groan. He allows the smoke to linger inside him, then, without parting from the joint much, he exhales. It’s very subtle, but he notices both you and Dieter taking deep breaths, filling yourselves with his breath. He’s amused. His lips twitch as he takes another drag. Then he extends it back to Dieter. The actor doesn’t waste much time and wraps his lips around the butt of the joint deliberately slow. Joel fights the urge to roll his eyes. Dieter takes a deep breath, exhaling cannabis in a way that the smoke doesn’t move forward, it pours from between his lips, like a dragon’s mouth.

Joel doesn’t think much of it, now feeling more relaxed than ever, he says, “You look surprisingly cleaned up. They groomed you well.”

“Does it look like I care what you think?” Dieter snaps back, and Joel frowns.

“I think the word you’re looking for is thank you,” you say, words directed at Dieter. Your eyes flit between the two tense men. “Also I'm starting to think you two have some history together.”

“Didn’t your knight in shining armor tell you?” Dieter grins, rather smug. “He used to work for me.”

You turn to Joel, brows pinched together with confusion. “You did?”

Joel rolls his eyes, ignoring the way his cheeks heat up under your gaze. “It was a long time ago.”

“I fired him.”

“How come?”

“Too distracting.”

Joel breathes a little too fast, the air catching in his throat. He clears his throat, his veins alive with tension. It almost feels like it’s the only three of them now. The rest of the room fading and turning black. Joel leans forward, the already tight space becoming even tighter.

“Excuse me?” Joel asks, his speech slurred. “What do you mean “too distractin’”?”

Neither of them answers you. Actors, he thinking begrudgingly, a puff of air parting his lips. Dieter brings the joint to your lips and without taking it from him, you look at Joel. He watches as your lips brush against the length of Dieter’s fingers. Annoyance brews in his stomach.

“Is he like this with you too? Oblivious?” Dieter asks you. You grin, teeth shining under the dim lights and you nod. The actor’s tongue pokes out from between his lips and swipes over his bottom lip. “Poor baby.”

“You two are startin’ to get on my nerves,” Joel grumbles, crossing his arms across his broad chest.

You stick your tongue out and Joel has half the urge to grab it between his fingers and teach you a lesson. He hadn’t noticed, but the joint had made its way back to him. Slightly confused and disoriented, he finishes it off. The last bit of it burning his throat and lungs. He’s incredibly flustered, heat crawling up from his chest to his cheeks. He doesn’t miss the way you and Dieter steal glances at each other, smiling giddily.

Finally, you find Joel’s gaze, a Cheshire-cat like grin plastered on your face—he’s slightly creeped out by it actually.

“How about we show you what we mean?”

Joel should’ve said no. This is the last time he’s ever coming to one of these damn parties.

Joel wasn’t thinking much when Dieter led all of you to one of the many bedrooms in the residence. Your hand was clutched tightly around his, and per instinct, he had held on to you just as tight. And as soon as the three of them entered the stupidly large bedroom with an equally stupidly large bed, he found himself sitting on the edge with his pants down. The two actors knelt between his legs, eyes hungry and mouths flooded.

He has to admit, it’s a rather enticing view.

Dieter wraps his fingers around the base while you kiss the inside of Joel’s thigh. Heat settles at the base of his spine, his cock twitching and growing thanks to Dieter’s slow strokes. You drag your lips up, kissing his shaft before swirling your tongue around the head. A strangled moan leaves him. Joel’s gaze drops, only to see Dieter staring back at him. He holds his breath as the other grins from one ear to the other.

“You like that?” he coos, darting his tongue out. He licks a clean stripe up, the curve of his nose brushing against yours. “God, the number of times I came in my pants thinking about this. . .”

Joel’s quick to follow up, “You thought about this?”

Your sudden bubble of laughter makes him frown. His lips become a tight line, his teeth clenched as he grinds the molars together. He watches as you ignore him and pull away. You cradle Dieter’s cheek, and as if he read your mind, the actor leans in, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. Joel tenses. His skin taut over muscle. His cock stands with attention, beads of precum rolling down his length. The thought of his taste lingering on your tongue, being passed to Dieter—his chest heaves, maybe he is too old for this.

He sees Dieter shoving his tongue between your lips and you moan into his mouth, Dieter swallows the noises you make eagerly. Joel is surprised he’s not feeling any jealousy or protectiveness. Usually, when the actor attempts to make passes at you he puffs up like a rooster. But not his time. Dieter cups your face with two hands, tilting your head so he can kiss you deeper. Only then it dawns on Joel that the reason he was bothered before wasn’t that he hated the actor—though he still found him annoying—but because he wanted to be included. He almost laughs. Loneliness truly is a bitch. His fingers twitch and he makes a move to cup himself, he pouts when his hand is batted away by no one other than you.

“No,” you say wetly with swollen lips. “We’re going to take care of you. Isn’t that right, Dee?” the second half of the sentence is directed at the actor who looks just as debauched. But he manages to nod anyway. Then your gaze moves back up to Joel. “Okay?”

He’s lost for words for a brief moment, mouth opening and closing before he can find his speech again. “Okay.”

It’s messy. Debauched. Downright sinful. And Joel is ninety percent sure this is all a dream and his alarm is about to burst through the speaker of his phone. Dieter purses his lips and spits into his palm, coating Joel’s shaft with a generous amount. You kiss the head and swallow him halfway, your nostrils flaring as you try to take more of him. Joel’s hand lifts to comfort you but Dieter beats him to it. The actor leans into your ear, smiling slyly. He pulls down the straps of your dress and exposes your breasts. Joel’s mouth feels dry all of a sudden.

“That’s it, sweetheart. You’re doing so well,” Dieter purrs, Joel can barely hear him. “Just breathe through your nose, don’t rush it. He’s a big boy, isn’t he? Flatten your tongue and swallow. That’s it. . .” Joel’s arms buckle as you do what you’re told, his eyes rolling back. Dieter kisses your cheek and kneads your breasts, thumbs wiping over the pebbled nipples. “You’re making him so happy right now. Such a talented girl.”

“Oh, fuck,” Joel groans, slightly thrusting into your mouth. Dieter meets his gaze and winks, a wide grin spread across his handsome face.

Handsome. Joel finds Dieter handsome, always has. Though he always assumed he found him handsome in a more general way, the same way he found Oscar Isaac handsome. Some people just are. But he’s starting to think he might like the infuriating actor a bit more than he thought. Or maybe it’s just from the heat of the moment and the weed still buzzing in his veins. Regardless, he’s enjoying the view very much. God, what has he gotten himself into?

You swirl your tongue and hollow your cheeks. More praise drips from Dieter’s lips. Without thinking much of it, Joel reaches out and touches the side of Dieter’s face. The actor stills for a moment, brows furrowing, a delicious shade of red coloring his cheeks. Joel drags the pad of his thumb down Dieter’s cheek and then cups him tenderly.

“Good boy,” Joel says before his filter kicks in. “You’re doin’ so well too.”

Dieter’s face is priceless. He’s stunned into silence, eyes wide and round, lips parted. A low chuckle trembles within Joel’s chest, he continues to trace his thumb up and down the contours of his cheek. Dieter leans into the touch ever so slightly, eyelids fluttering. You must notice the change in the air because you pull away and drag a pointed tongue down Joel’s length. Then you grip Dieter’s chin and guide him down.

“Have a taste, Dee.”

Joel watches with bated breath as you guide Dieter down towards his aching member. The actor's lips part and his breath hitches as he takes in the sight before him. He looks up at Joel, his eyes dark, before finally taking him in his mouth, tongue swirling and lips tight. The actor's eyes never leave Joel's as he bobs his head, taking more and more of him into his mouth. Joel’s legs shake, his lungs expand, it feels too much, everything tumbling onto him like an avalanche.

Joel's head falls back, his eyes closing as he feels the warmth of Dieter's mouth. He can hear the wet sounds of his mouth moving over him, the way his lips slide up and down his length, and he can't help but let out a low moan.

You reach out and grab Joel's hand, entwining your fingers. Your touch electric. Leaning over you capture Joel's lips with your own. He moans into your mouth, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

Dieter pulls back, a thin line of saliva connecting his lips to Joel's length. He looks up at Joel with a wicked grin, before taking him back into his mouth. Parting away from you, Joel groans, hips bucking up involuntarily. But when he sees Dieter grinding into his palm, his cock hard and aching under his pants, Joel tugs on his hair, fucking his mouth with shallow strokes.

Joel’s eyes go wide when the other man chokes, the sound of it equivalent to someone raking their nails over his body. His stomach flips. Something raw and visceral awakening inside him. He thrusts deeper, the head going down the other’s throat. Dieter chokes again and Joel moans, loudly. His heart beating too fast.

With the corner of his eyes, Joel watches your movements with a parted mouth. You dip lower and drag your lips up his shaft, your mouth meeting Dieter’s. You both mouth at him simultaneously, your tongues dancing. Joel fists the sheets. His eyes fixed where his cock disappears and reappears between their lips. The two moan at the same time, the reverberations seeping into the sensitive skin of his cock and making him shudder. His muscles grow taut. Precum heavily coating both of their lips. Dieter dips his tongue into the slit groaning at the taste, and you unbutton the actor’s pants, sliding your hand under his boxer briefs.

“Oh god,” Joel swallows thickly, his voice hoarse. “I’m gonna come—” he can feel his body tensing, his breaths coming in short gasps as he gets closer and closer.

You pull away and Dieter follows. Instinctively, Joel pulls at Dieter’s hair, willing the other back to his cock. His cock twitches when Dieter’s eyes roll back at the blossoming pain. You climb up the bed, cradling Joel’s face before slipping his tongue into his mouth. It’s a quick one but leaves him breathless nonetheless.

“I want you to fuck me,” you mutter, lips moving over his beard. “Will you, please?”

Joel helps you up to your feet, his hands still shaking slightly as he pushes down your dress, finishing what Dieter had started. He dips down, sucking a nipple into his mouth. His cock drips at the way you moan for him. Dieter stands behind him, his fingers trailing down the center of Joel's back as he helps him out of his shirt.

You reach for Dieter's pants, feeling the heat rising in your chest as you gaze into his eyes. He watches you intently, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. You slide the zipper down slowly, your fingers brushing against the growing bulge in his boxer briefs.

Joel steps back, allowing you to guide Dieter towards the bed. He climbs up first, propping himself up against the headboard, his eyes fixed on the scene unfolding in front of him. You kneel on the bed beside Dieter, your fingers reaching for the waistband of his underwear. You tug them down slowly, revealing his cock, already hard and throbbing.

Joel's breath catches in his throat as he watches you take Dieter's cock into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head before sliding down the shaft. Then you pull away from him with a pop and lay down next to him, your head resting on his hip. Dieter’s hands smooth down your body, spreading your thighs. He holds Joel’s gaze as the older man’s mouth suddenly feels dry at the sight of you.

Joel moves between your legs, his fingers tracing over your slick folds, making you moan softly. He positions himself at your entrance, his eyes locked onto yours as he slowly pushes inside you. He can feel you getting wetter with every inch. You claw at Dieter’s bicep and he shushes you, one hand moving to the swell of your breasts and holding it gingerly. The small hairs across Joel’s body stand up when you let out a sharp whimper.

“Dieter,” you whine, eyes glossy. “H-He feels so good.”

God, you’re shaking around him, your pretty pussy squeezing him. Joel grunts.

“I bet he does,” Dieter murmurs, eyes looking at where you and Joel connect. He’s only halfway in. “Want me to play with your pretty clit, baby? You’re taking him so well.”

You nod quickly and Dieter doesn’t make you repeat yourself. Joel swallows. Dieter begins to draw quick, tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasp, your lips barely touching Dieter’s shaft. Joel feels you clenching around him, walls fluttering thanks to the actor. Dieter makes a point of brushing the tips of his fingers while attending to your need, and every time Joel feels it, his cock throbs. He buries himself deep inside you, forcing the air from your lungs. Your back arches beautifully, your nails leaving crescent moon-shaped marks into Dieter’s skin.

Joel's breathing is ragged, his eyes locked onto yours as he pumps into you harder and harder. Your eyes flutter closed. His fingers dig into your hips, anchoring you to the bed as he pounds into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room.

“Hold me,” you cry out, head turning to Dieter. Joel’s thrusts become harder, faster. “Shit—He’s in so deep.”

Dieter obliges, wrapping his arms around your trembling frame as your body sways back and forth with the strength of Joel’s thrusts.

“You’re taking him so well, sweetheart,” Dieter groans, his own cock heavy and dark between his legs. “You look so beautiful with him buried between his legs.” suddenly his eyes snap to Joel’s, and the older man falters a bit, his pacing becoming uneven. “Doesn’t she?” he asks him.

“She does,” Joel grunts out a response.

You let out a whimper, Joel can feel you convulsing. Your body growing taut and tense, you’re close. Joel’s not that far from it himself, dangling over the edge.

“She’s such a good girl,” Dieter continues, eyes never leaving Joel’s. “Isn’t she?”

“Jesus, she is. So fuckin’ good to me. Always.”

And with that, Joel witnesses your fall from heaven.

He watches with awe as you writhe and convulse around him, your head thrown back in ecstasy. Your body trembles with every pulse of pleasure that courses through you, and your breaths come in short gasps. You arch your back, a low moan escapes your lips, and your body tenses up around Joel's length. Your fingers dig into Dieter’s forearms s as you ride out the waves of ecstasy that ripple through your body. Joel can feel your inner walls squeezing him tightly, and he groans.

Joel can feel your wetness coating his cock, and the slickness only intensifies the pleasure he feels. He continues to thrust into you, his pace quickening as he chases his own release. Somewhere in the distance, he can hear Dieter praising you both, though mostly you, and he shudders.

Your orgasm starting to subside, he feels your body relaxing against him. He slows his pace, savoring the feeling of your hot, slick walls wrapped tightly around him. He wants to make this last as long as possible, to make you feel every inch of him. However, Joel knows nothing lasts forever.

He’s right at the edge when he pulls out, spilling over your stomach. His hot breath slides over your skin, his head buried between your breasts. Unthinking, he presses heavy, wet kisses. The tremors of his orgasm slowly fades and Joel realizes that among the three of them, there’s still one person left unsatisfied.

Joel looks up to Dieter. Despite his cock still being hard, the head an angry shade of red, he looks content with just peppering the top of your head with kisses. But he must’ve sensed the bodyguard staring because Dieter’s eyes meet his.

“You didn’t come,” Joel states.

Dieter rolls his eyes, “No shit,” he follows it up with a shrug. “But it’s okay. Seeing you two going at it was satisfying enough.”

Joel moves his jaw, thinking, contemplating on what to do. Your lids are heavy as your eyes move back and forth. Watching. The older man comes to a decision and peels himself away from you.

“Can I?” he asks, pointing at Dieter’s dick. The actor flushes.

“Can you what?” he answers, voice squeaky.

“Um. . .Jerk you off. It’s only fair.”

Joel reaches out a hand and tentatively wraps it around Dieter's shaft, giving it a gentle squeeze. Dieter lets out a small moan. His fingers start moving up and down, slowly at first, getting a feel for Dieter's size and shape. Joel has done this with another once or twice before and he can sense his confidence that was already hanging by a thread slowly dissolving. He looks up at Dieter who is already staring at him with half hooded eyes.

“Is this good?” Joel asks, licking his lips.

“Fuck yes. I’ll take whatever you give me.”

Joel’s eyes widen at the admission. He tightens his grip and strokes him faster. Your hand comes up to Dieter’s chest, caressing flushed skin with a smile. You lean closer and kiss his neck, which Dieter hums gratefully. Joel feels the heat emanating from Dieter's body, and the slight tremble in his legs as Joel picks up the pace.

"Good boy," Joel murmurs, watching as Dieter's eyes close and his mouth falls open. "So well behaved than from what I give him credit for."

Dieter lets out a soft whimper, his hips bucking up into Joel's hand. Joel adjusts his grip, tightening his fingers around Dieter's cock as he works him harder. Dieter drips all over his fingers and he uses it to lubricate his movements.

"You're so hard," Joel whispers, his mouth suddenly feeling incredibly dry. His gaze falls on you with slight envy, a tingle spreading throughout his lips. A desire to lay his lips on the other man and feel his frantic pulse for himself is a strong one, but he swallows it down. "You want to come, don't you?"

Dieter nods frantically, his breathing ragged. Joel can feel his own cock twitching.

"That's it, let go," Joel encourages, stroking him faster and swiping his palm over the head. "Come for us."

With a loud groan, Dieter's body tenses, and Joel can feel the hot spurt of cum as it lands on his hand and on Dieter's stomach. Joel keeps jerking him through his orgasm, murmuring words of encouragement as Dieter's body shakes with pleasure.

Finally, as Dieter's breathing evens out, Joel releases him, wiping his hand on the bedsheet. Dieter looks up at him with a dazed expression, a small smile on his lips.

"Thanks," he says, his voice hoarse.

Joel exhales a stuttered breath, not really knowing what else to say. "Anytime."

“Awwww,” you chime in giddily which gets on Joel’s nerves. “Look at my two boys getting along.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x you #bodyguard!joel miller #actress!reader #joel miller x reader x dieter bravo #the bubble fic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters

1K notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 8 months

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Congrats on 1k love!!! Im so happy for you, you deserve all the love 🩶

Could i request a ravenclaw!reader who's a little volatile (i suppose like dark acadameia) that the slytherins have kind of adopted (because shes volatile not violent and they think its cute). But shes been in a relationship with Remus on the down low and they realise at a halloween party?

I imagine Remus as an angel while reader is a devil and the slytherins were already concerned by the costume but then they notice you and Remus and just loose their marbles. Barty's having a meltdown, evans im shock and Sirius is cackling because Regulus is trying to stand tall but Remus is so much bigger than him its just impossible.

Anyway, tysm for your wonderful self and feel free to twist this however fits you, love!!

Hi lovely, thank you so much! I'm assuming you meant this to be for the Fade Into You part of the celebration since it's a specific reader, and also I don't know the Slytherin boys very well so I feel like my characterization could be wayyyyy off but I hope this is alright!

join the party

Remus Lupin x Ravenclaw!reader ♡ 930 words

You’re dancing with your friends when your drink is plucked suddenly from your hand.

“Hey!” You spin around to find the thief, and then your tone changes completely. “Hey, Remus, you came!” You crash into him, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. Remus hugs you back the best he’s able, a drink in each hand. “And you wore your costume!” You grin as you pull away, resting a hand on either side of his face to admire how soft and sweet he looks in seraphim white. “Is that glitter on your cheeks?”

Said cheeks grow warm under your hands. “That’s Sirius’ touch.”

“You look very pretty.” He grins, and you stand on tiptoe to whisper sweetly in his ear, “Now give me back my drink, pretty boy.”

Remus’ smile doesn’t waver, but he becomes a tad more serious about the eyes. “How many have you had?”

“Oh, don’t be such a drag, Lupin,” Barty pipes up, coming up behind you to sling an arm around your shoulder. “She’s fine, and not that it’s any business of yours, but we won’t let anything happen to her.”

“She just seems like maybe she’s had enough,” Remus replies, and his tone is far from unkind, but there’s an edge of admonishment to it that has Barty bristling noticeably. He turns back to you, voice softening. “What do you say, lovely, want to go sit down for a little while?”

You look at Barty, who raises an eyebrow at you. Behind him, Reggie stands with his arms crossed, looking bored with the whole thing.

“I won’t be gone long,” you say in apology, and Barty scoffs disgustedly, but releases you.

“Fine, go play with your costume buddy,” he says. “We’ll be here when you get sick of him.”

You take Remus’ hand in one of yours, flipping Barty off with the other.

“Are we really going to sit down?” you whisper hopefully, and Remus chuckles.

“Yeah, we are. Sorry, sweetheart, but you’re not exactly walking in a straight line right now.”

You grin, tugging at his hand playfully. “That’s just ‘cause I’m a rebel. The boys would never let me hang out with them if I walked the straight and narrow.”

“That so?” Remus hums, pulling you down onto a couch beside him. “Have I mentioned how nice you look yet? You really do.”

“I’m not supposed to look nice.” You roll your eyes, shuffling closer to him. “I’m a devil, Rem. I’m supposed to look hot and salacious.”

Remus graces you with a smile, brushing a piece of hair from in front of your eye. “You do look hot, but you look nice too. I don’t think you can help that one, dovey.”

“Yeah?” You bat your eyelashes, moving into his lap. Remus’ eyebrow quirks up slightly, cheeks glittering with the movement, but he doesn’t stop you. “Is it just that I radiate sweetness?” You kiss his jaw. “And patience?” Remus’ cheek is faintly pink where you press your lips. “Innocence, certainly,” you tease, breath hot on his ear, “but what else?”

“Dove,” he whispers, “I think your friends are watching.”

“Hm?” You look up, and sure enough, Regulus, Barty, and Evan are standing just a few feet away by the punch bowl, expressions ranging from bewilderment to abject horror. “Oh. Oops.”

“I—I can’t,” Barty sputters. “I can’t be seeing this. Are you plastered? Get off him.”

You don’t, but Remus does it for you, standing and setting you on your feet as Regulus stalks forward. He stops with his arms crossed in front of the two of you.

“Is this who you’ve been ditching us for lately?” he asks you.

You start to reply, but Barty talks over you. “No.” He shakes his head. “No, there’s no way. There’s no way.”

Others have started migrating toward you to watch the show, among them Remus’ friends. Normally you wouldn't care, but Remus is beginning to squirm, so you try to calm things down for his benefit.

“You guys are overreacting,” you say, as peaceably as you’re capable of. “As if it really matters what house my boyfriend is in.”

“Boyfriend?” Barty despairs, and you should have known better than to think anything could quell his dramatics once they’ve begun. “God, as if the costumes weren’t bad enough, you have to throw lovey-dovey terms like boyfriend around.”

A peal of laughter sounds from somewhere nearby, and you look around to find Sirius, eyes already wet with mirth as he watches his younger brother. “Reggie,” he manages between giggles, “are you trying to look taller than him?”

Reg raises an unimpressed brow, and anyone who didn’t know him well might not notice the flicker of embarrassment in his gaze. “Don’t be stupid,” he says, but his posture is better than you’ve ever seen it, his neck elongated in an attempt to look Remus in the eyes without having to tilt his head.

“Reg.” Sirius swipes under his eyes. “You may be taller than me, but you’re never gonna get all the way up there.” “Alright,” you say decisively, taking Remus’ hand and proceeding to push past Regulus’ stiff form. You shoot Evan a half-apologetic look as you go by, still standing frozen like he’s been stupefied, and Barty follows your movement with eyes blown wide. “Just for that, we’re going back to you guys’ dorm, Black. And we’re going to fuck, loudly, all night.” You shoot your most winning smile in his direction, even as Remus’ face takes on a fiery hue beneath the white glitter. “I wouldn’t recommend coming home. Goodnight!”

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saltminerising · 6 months

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seeing the drama go down about the auraboa lore has made me super anxious. as a writer and also an autistic person, it can be hard to fully know and prepare for every single issue ahead of time, and it worries me that i’ll accidentally write something problematic into my own lore on flight rising without realizing it. (also i don’t have the funds to personally hire a sensitivity reader for all my flight rising lore.) it makes me wonder if one day i’ll write something and get cancelled and called racist for something i didn’t intend for it to come across that way at all, despite my best efforts to be cognizant of such things.

i’m not saying people shouldn’t call out these things. as a writer, there’s a lot of pressure to perform, but also the responsibility to get things right, to not spread misinformation or perpetuate harmful stereotypes. but i really think some compassion should be extended to the other side too, that people are human and they do make mistakes, unintentionally causing hurt. should flight rising hire sensitivity readers? absolutely. should they fix and change the issues present within the lore? absolutely. but i also don’t think they intended to belittle or dehumanize a group of people with their recent lore, either.

i know i’ve certainly taken the time to rewrite entire chunks of my own lore when something just felt… off to me for whatever reason. and i think that’s something that no author should be afraid to do. but the sheer hostility that comes from some people can be really daunting and anxiety-inducing. discouraging, even. to some extent, it makes me personally wonder if i should even try to tell stories when people try to find as much fault as possible in them, and aggressively tear them down rather than offering constructive criticism. it creates an environment of hostility rather than a learning space where we can all be better people.

i’m not talking about the folks who have valid criticisms, and voiced those things politely and with respect, who have brought up real concerns. that should by all means get discussed and acknowledged. i’m talking about the ones who are going overboard and getting angry at staff and just straight up calling them extremely racist. not that i’m defending racism. of course not. just that i think being that as accusatory as possible doesn’t get us anywhere other than high tension and mob mentality.

i also think there are definitely people who are being dismissive of these concerns as well, and those folks need to back down too. (especially that individual who posted a baby image as a reply to what an individual stated. that’s such a childish thing to do. please be better than that.) i’m just sad to see some people can’t remain civil about these topics, i guess. i feel like, we’re all people here, we all bleed the same, we all make mistakes. perhaps a little bit of empathy would go a long way from both sides of the equation.

on another note. for the folks who are being equally dismissive of the phobias that genes like medusa and scuttle trigger: people are people, and what bothers one person might not upset another. expecting everyone to feel the same way, and to not have a certain trigger because it doesn’t personally bother you is a very narrow-minded way of thinking. let people exist in the way that they do without making them feel unheard and unseen, as though they are ridiculous or foolish. they’re not.

i love these genes myself, but i can understand if someone else was unnerved by them, because the world is a larger place than my own narrow perception of it. again, compassion and empathy go a long way. please don’t be unkind to the folks who may be dealing with things you are not. wouldn’t you appreciate it if someone was as understanding about the things that upset you?

anyways. sorry for rambling. i’m sure most of you will think this is too much to read, and that’s fine too. i can understand that. regardless of whether you did or not, i hope you all have a good week. rest, hydrate, and take care of yourselves.

#submission #long post #ancient mystery #racism tw #ableism tw

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romeulusroy · 1 year

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72 Hours (Roman Roy Oneshot)

Character/s: Roman

Word Count: 1,409

Warning/s: hospital, hospital tw, mental health, mental health tw

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: This is something different lol. December of 2020 I checked myself into a psychiatric hospital :) It was scary and new, but it was definitely necessary. I don't think it should be a taboo subject. It's definitely not something my immediate family will or likes to bring up, but it's also not something to be ashamed of, y'know? Idk. I've been feeling bad again. Not like in 2020, that was- it was very bad, but still not great. It happens. Meds stop working. The heaviness sets in. I use writing to get through it, those bad feelings, so that's what I'm doing. Just know you're not alone when you're feeling bad. My inbox is always open, I am always willing to talk 💜💜💜💜💜💜

They are terrible thoughts. Horrible, repulsive, aching thoughts that feed off everything you are. They see the worst in you. When you’re done, that’s all there is left. The most repulsive parts of you. The bare, naked, scarred bones. You used to fear you were a bad person. A truly sinister, evil person. Now you don’t have to worry. Now you know. You are. Selfish, and evil, and a burden. Unlovable, unkind, undesirable. He doesn’t love you, not really, and he wouldn’t miss you. No one would. You’re sure of it. You’re so sure of it your bones ache. They long for the soil, muddy and rich. Your whole body wishes to be put to rest. To finally find peace. Being alive hurts. It hurts so bad sometimes. It takes everything out of you to roll from one side to the other. Things have taken up space in your bed. Books sleep soundly next to you, begging to be read. Notes, loose paper, begging to be written. You hope, in nestling with them, loving them even in rest, that they will save you from yourself. They will drag you out of this abyss you’ve found yourself falling in for a long time now. If there is a bottom, you haven’t found it yet. Every second of every minute you flinch, expecting your head to crack open, expecting your neck to snap on that solid ground. It never comes though. How much darker can things get? How much longer do you have before the light, the shrinking light, clouds over? You fear, when this is over, that everything will be gone. You will be gone. Forever. Your own mortality hangs in the balance. You claw at the rocky walls, your fingernails bloody, ripping apart. You scream so loud, for hours, but no one is near enough to hear you.

Is it my fault? Those are the first words from his mouth, the first thought behind those puppy dog eyes. You hold his face, his stubble scratchy in your palms. Did I do something wrong? You make sure your words are stern, but not scary, not angry. He bruises too easily, your peach. No. None of this is your fault. I just, I have to go away for a few days and figure things out. That’s all. 72 hours. Then I’ll be home. You muster a smile, the edges of your mouth heavy in their upturned state. He looks so small, so worried, shaking hands at his side. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say. Neither do you. It’s always been something in your life. An endgame. An option when you run out of options. You talked it over with your therapist, loved and trusted, and they too believe this could be beneficial. Your bag is packed for three days. Three days apart. Basically a weekend. You can do that, right? You can manage, he can, too. You don’t think you have any other choice. Standing there, your bag at your feet, you feel the heaviness. The weight. You want to finally collapse inward like a star, bright and burning and suicidal. He looks you over, your expression, your body, everything you are. You will understand him to understand, to get it, but you don’t need to. He already does. It wasn’t an easy decision to come to. None of this has been. But if you want the hurt to stop, if you want to stop falling, then you need to leave and get help.

He picks your shirt from the laundry, holding it against his chest. He wanders around the apartment, massive, lonely without you by his side. It smells like you, the fabric. You hadn’t changed out of it in a week, week and a half. Sweaty, you’d argue, but he likes it. It’s familiar. Roaming like a ghost, restless, trapped. Mostly you sunk into the mattress, the sheets melding into your skin until you were one singular being. The tears, silent, hidden, but not quite. Coming home from work, finding your cheeks freshly wet, your eyes red and glazed over. The thoughts unsaid, but screaming. Screaming and wailing and willing you to step over that edge. Nothing about it is easy. Nothing about it is gentle. Nothing about this you could stand for much longer. Dinner, so sweetly prepared, goes uneaten. Everything sits like rocks in the pit of your stomach. Threatening to come back up again. Mostly, you push the food around your plate, managing a smile, managing interest in the conversation. You spend all day in bed, but you are unable to sleep. The bags under your eyes look like they hurt, aching, pulsing. The hollows of your eyes seem deeper, darker, haunted. Your body is so heavy. You never knew flesh and bone could feel like concrete. Every step, every movement, it is unthinkable. You curl into yourself, hoping tomorrow will be better, hoping this will go away. It won’t. It never does.

Roman didn’t know things were this bad. Even as he watched you wave from the check-in desk, even as he watched the doors close behind you and an escorting nurse, even as he waited for you to come back, a voice in his head told him things weren’t this bad. They were. You’ve been sick for a long time. He thought if he was home more, if he cooked dinner, real dinner, and cracked jokes and held you so tight at night, then it wouldn’t get this bad. Cyclical. Things got like this. But it always went away. It got bad, yes, but then it got better. Why wasn’t it going away? You didn’t have the words to describe it. He’d find you laying in the tub, the water cold, shivering, crying, unable to get out. It took too much energy, too much determination, none of which you had. Unchanged from the pajamas you wore for days at a time. He blamed himself. He wasn’t doing enough. He wasn’t there for you enough. If, if, if. You told him it was just your brain, your mind, getting a little lost. When it got lost, it was hard to find its way back. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t you, it wasn’t anyone or anything, just your brain. It would be like this for the rest of your life. You couldn’t bargain or bribe your way out of this. It had to be done. He saw the scars along your skin from the times before, when things were bad, very bad. He didn’t want anything like that from happening again.

He called you as soon as he could. Roman’s voice was shaky, unsure. You were the one easing his fears, his worries. If you didn't, no one would. He didn’t ask how it was going, he wasn't sure if he should. You sensed the curiosity, telling him your new routine. You’ve been sleeping better, easier. The food is terrible. There are doctors and therapists who are going to help you, make your brain better. He breathes a sigh of relief. Not because of what you say, but how you sound. Your tone was so scary. Scared of your thoughts, scared of what you might do. You sounded lighter. You talked as long as you could. When you hung up he went to bed with your shirt, one arm reaching out to your side of the bed. Wanting you. Needing you. Knowing this is what had to happen. Everything his father had taught him, you had he retaught. This wasn’t taboo. It wasn’t evil or wrong or anything to be embarrassed of. It’s just something that is. He counts down the hours. 48. 47. 46. . .

Soon you will be home. You will have medications, different pills, pills that will work. You will be in your own bed again right next to him. You will get better. You will feel happiness again. You will laugh and smile and it will be so genuine it hurts. And when this comes back, when everything gets dark again, because it always does, he will be there like he is now, like he has been. He will be there. Because when he made a promise to you, he made it to all of you. The good parts, but the bad parts too. The scary, mean, lying parts. The parts that tell you you aren’t worth it, that you won’t be missed. He’ll spend every day proving them wrong.

#writing #roman roy #roman roy imagine #roman roy x reader #roman roy drabble #roman roy oneshot #succession #succession imagine #succession drabble #succession oneshot #succession x reader #tw mental hospital #tw mental illness #tw mental health #tw bipolar #tw bipolar disorder

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imjeralee · 1 year

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hi! ♥ i would like to request hc's or a prompt for how Nanami be would be as a co-worker - lover/husband! He's just the perfect partner! You may feel free to approach it however you like but in case you need a little more specifics...how would Nanami subtly show interest in you at work, how would he ask you out, and how would a domestic life with him look like. Ofc, if its too long, I'll be happy with whichever you choose to work with. Thank you so much! I hope you have fun!

Hi anon! Thank you so much for the request. I tried to incorporate as much as I can but I feel like this has the capacity for more, so I guess this is To be continued lol.

Please see below!

Nanami is the no-nonsense, straight-laced, strict-faced coworker at work who has a perfect attendance record and every secretary has a crush on him and deliberately make excuses to go to the pantry whenever he is there just to ‘conveniently’ stumble across him but they’ll just discover that he’ll exchange a few short words with them before returning to his desk.

He’s really formal with you too, polite and right to the point. You probably wouldn’t want to stumble in his presence with your words but just because he’s stoic doesn’t mean he is unkind

He’s the coworker who leaves late at night but turns up earlier than everyone else in the morning. His work ethic is insane. He’s the model, loyal employee of the company!

But you also feel like he’s hiding a secretly sexy side of him too (you often catch yourself daydreaming of him loosening his tie, slicking his hair back with his hand, sweeping all the things off his desk before he throws you on top of it and making out)

You can definitely depend on him to get help and get your work done on time if you're really struggling

If he was interested in you, you’d notice that he’d help you more compared to anyone else - even if you didn't need help

He’d pass by your desk often and you’ll talk. I don’t think Nanami is the kind for small talk, but when he talks, it will be something important so you’ll have these conversations which are meaningful and you’ll find out more about him and he will find out more about you *coughshortinformalmarriageinterviewcough*

He would ask you out without you even realizing/thinking about it. It could be something work related but it’ll just be the two of you - something special which you have with each other and no-one else, like heading downstairs during your break times to check out what's for sale in the company's cafeteria or the new bakery that opened across the street, or to buy coffee together. It becomes a routine and then he will ask if you’re free during the weekend to go out

He would straight up tell you what his opinion of you is, and that he thinks a marriage with you would be the most logical thing to do in order to survive in this system of capitalism and with your combined salaries you can definitely sustain a small one-bedroom flat together and comfortably live within your means despite the rising costs of living as long as you don’t go on any unplanned holidays that’s over budget

Domestic life with Nanami would be pretty neat - literally. Ratio daddy is a clean freak and does not like messes. Don’t be a slob and you’ll be fine

On weekends, you do grocery shopping together. Nanami will carry the bigger/heavier bag. Always.

I feel like he is a minimalist for some reason… your home will be simple, zen, spacious with walls of light colors such as white, ochre, ivory.

He is really caring and a darn good husbando, expect breakfast in bed and if you’re tired or your back hurts, he’ll make you coffee and/or offer to give you a massage. Nanami treats those he cares for with utmost respect

He also wouldn’t mind cooking dinner but will try to wean you off getting takeout

When you’re both finished work and come home, you’d both snuggle on the couch in front of the TV with Nanami’s arm around your shoulder as you sleep with your head on his shoulder. He’ll be considerate and keep quiet then carry you to the room

As you both rush for work in the morning, he’ll fuss and preen over you for a few moments before heading out.

#Nanami x reader #Nanami kento x reader #reader #you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen requests #jujutsu kaisen ask #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #jjk headcanon #jjk nanami #request #ask

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sparxwrites · 1 year

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"Play Your Part", director's cut edition

[original fic]

“I killed him,” says Grian, as Scar comes up behind him. He’s staring down at Bigb’s grave – at the improvised headstone, the wilting flowers, the little handful of sand poured on top of it like an offering. He doesn’t look sad, exactly. A bit regretful, maybe. But mostly just confused, as though this wasn’t inevitably what happened when you dropped rocks on people’s head at close range.

As though this wasn’t always where they were heading – a red life, a shallow grave, and no remorse.

Scar is back on his I know how stories work bullshit. In my head, he’s always like… a weird combination of superior, because he can manipulate stories like no one else can, and bewildered, because it’s so obvious, guys. It’s so obvious where they’ve been heading, to him. He’s been able to see it since the story first hooked into them, locked into its course. Right now, though, I think he’s mostly just bitter.

“Yes,” says Scar, cold and unkind. He stops a few feet from Grian, and makes no move to come closer. No move to reach out and offer comfort. “You did.”

Like I said! Bitter. And he’s hiding it so well. :)

“He was my secret soulmate,” says Grian. He sounds lost, a little. He looks up from the fresh-turned earth, dark eyes drawn to Scar’s red ones. “What am I supposed to do now?”

Grian… not so good at stories. He’s above all that. He’s clever enough to do what he wants! He’s got agency! (This is deeply sarcastic, btw.) Which means he’s bewildered, each and every time, when the narrative bonks him over the head with a tragedy he’s very obviously (to others who know stories, i.e. Scar) locked himself into from the start.

Scar closes his eyes for a moment, and breathes through the red thump thump thump of his heart. He’s gritting his teeth so hard he can feel his pulse in his molars.

Red because hearts are red, blood is red. Red because the red mist descending as a metaphor for uncontrollable anger. Red for red life.

“You play your part,” he says, and though he aims for cruel, he mostly hits tired. “I’m your soulmate. Not him. And now he’s dead, and we’re not, and the story must go on. So. We’re both red. We’re in love. We kill people. We play the game, together. That’s what we do.”

This is Scar admitting a lot of stuff semi-unintentionally, under the guise of educating Grian about what the server’s story is. We’re in love is especially sharp, though I doubt Grian catches it – it implies that they’re not really in love (or at least, one of them (Grian) isn’t), they’re just play acting it for the sake of the narrative. It’s also an indication that this narrative is a strong one, a big one. Stuff like friendship points is a small narrative. Sure, it hooks people in, but it isn’t all that binding. Scar can weaponise it. But this one… this one is too big, too hungry, too off-the-leash, for him to have any hope of that. Because Grian started this one, and Grian always lets his stories get out of control. So now the only way to survive is to play the game.

“But–”

“You play your part, Grian.” Scar’s voice is flat, unyielding, and brooks no argument.

Grian, as always, brooks one regardless. He sets his jaw, juts his chin out like a stubborn child. The motion is so endearing, so familiar, it makes Scar’s cold chest ache. “What if I don’t want to?”

Agency is throwing a temper tantrum when fate pulls the trigger on that Chekov’s gun you left lying on the kitchen table in plain sight, according to Grian. According to Scar, that’s called being a dumb fucking idiot. You don’t leave a gun on the table and then get surprised when someone picks it up and shoots it. Especially not in a server that’s been taught to love death.

“You think Pearl wants to be crazy?” snaps Scar, the tiredness burning away into irritation. “You think Scott wants to hate her? You think Martyn and Cleo want to do whatever the hell it is they’re doing? You think Impulse really loves Bdubs?” He pauses, his eyes hard. “You think I really love you?” Grian flinches. Scar presses on. “No. But we’ve all got our roles to play, and we’re playing them, because that’s how this works. There’s a story to be told, here, and I for one want it over, as soon as damn well possible. And so, just like everyone else on this godsforsaken server other than you, I’m playing my part.”

This… is a little bit my headcanon for the Life smps (other than ‘fun murder holiday’, which is my Other headcanon for the Life smps). That like… I touched a bit on this in Battle Plans, but this idea that the Hermits are being dragged into this, and they’re terrified of it, and they’re pissed off with it, and they’re doing their best to just make it stop. There’s a very real sense I was trying to get across of them being puppets on a string here, where they’re all miserable and scared and feel like they’re being forced to dance for someone else’s entertainment.

“I swore– Scar, you know I swore I’d never– I wouldn’t let Them control me again–”

Trauma? About the Watchers? From Grian? :) Nah, couldn’t be. No idea what you’re talking about.

“For once in your life, listen to me,” snaps Scar, grabbing Grian by the front of his jumper. Grian’s staring like he’s never seen Scar before – and maybe he hasn’t, not like this. Not cold with anger, cruel with frustration, face blank and eyes dead. “There is a narrative loose on this server and, one way or another it’s going to eat us all alive. Now– we can either get it over and done with, as quick as we can. Or, we can fight it, and lose, and drag the whole goddamn thing out for no goddamn reason. And we have all, collectively, picked option one – other than you. So.” He shakes Grian, hard enough to half-lift him off the ground. Hard enough he sways where he stands, held up only by Scar’s fist curled tight in his clothing. “Play. Your. Part, Grian.”

(John Mulaney voice) There's a narrative LOOSE on the SERVER. But also, more seriously, a) me back on my narrative bullshit again, and b) this is Scar being like. the server has collectively given up. What he's describing is functionally everyone on the server collectively committing indirect suicide, which is horrific.

Grian gulps. Swallows. Nods, tersely.

Scar lets him go. Raises an eyebrow. When he crosses his arms over his bare, scarred chest, his fingers dig bruises into his own biceps.

“Yeah. Okay,” says Grian, tight and miserable. “Fine. I’ll play the stupid bloody game. Fine.”

“Okay, what?” says Scar, and wishes the victory felt less hollow.

Scar’s just being nasty and vindictive now. This has nothing to do with narratives, and everything to do with punishing Grian for his infidelity.

“Okay, beloved.” The endearment sounds like a razor blade in Grian’s mouth.

Two can play at that game.

Scar swallows bile. For a second, the ice in his eyes cracks. There’s heat beneath the surface, a raging, howling fire somewhere just below the cold. Then it’s gone. The ice returns.

Literally no one is fucking happy about this. They’re both mad at each other for dumb bullshit reasons because they’re toxic and dysfunctional and don’t fucking talk to one another and are madly in love without ever actually telling the other person explicitly and therefore both dealing with ‘unrequited’ love in the worst and stupidest way possible here. Guys. C’mon. You could fix this with a lil bit of talk therapy, I swear to god.

“Good,” he says, with a bright smile, and takes Grian’s hand. Pulls him away from the grave. Grian lets him, his fingers cold, his grip slack in Scar’s. “Because, no matter what – the show must go on.”

He’s not really talking about the narrative here, any more. I mean, he is. But mostly he’s talking to himself. Chin up, Scar. Mask affixed. Don’t let them see you hurting.

#scarian #lifeshipping #dlshipping #fic #directors cut #life smp tag #life smp fic #an commenter asked for this AGES ago but finally it is done...

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ninja-muse · 8 months

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September is birthday month, if anyone's wondering why my acquisition of books appears to have slipped again (picture #2). At least I'd read nearly all of them before they joined my library shelves, and Winter's Gifts, well, it's really easy to read an Aaronovitch novella within a day or two of acquiring it. Especially since…

September was also week-vacation month, which is part of how I made it to 13 books read but very little explanation for my read-from-TBR-shelves stack (picture #1), only two of which I read on holiday. The two short ones I read in the gap between "finished the latest Book Of Substance" and "started the official Vacation Stack", and Digger was one of my 2023 goals so I decided to check that off. Baking Yesteryear was a surprise/accident. I was telling a coworker how much I enjoyed reading the library's copy and they said, "hey, while you were off, we got a copy too damaged to sell…". And one has to treat oneself in birthday month.

(Vacation was good, in case you were wondering. Camping, so no wifi, so lots of outdoors and reading time and charming rodent shenanigans.)

My biggest regret of the month, by which we mean less regret and more mild bookish panic, is the number of reading copies I appear to have taken home. I have one for Menewood which I'm planning to get to once I finish with My Roommate is a Vampire, and the rest of them were, well, um. Look. When your store buyer and random publishers send you books you'd enjoy and your coworkers finish reading ARCs you've been interested in, things happen, okay? At least at this point a lot of the books are coming out next year, which probably doesn't bode well for my 2024 TBR but that is a future problem.

Also, not doing great at my goal of reading a Canadian author every month. This is the second (?) month in a row I've failed on that front which, yes, is why I'm reading a Canadian author right now. (Also it's one of those ARCs a coworker finished with.)

Beyond the bookish stuff, there's not much to report. I've written a good bit and am surprising myself by how much I can write on my phone during a commute. Had a good birthday. Ate good food. Got fun things. Dealt with slightly more chaos at work than usual. Finished the last season of Great British Bake-Off aired in Canada and am looking forward to starting the Canadian version tonight.

How was your September?

And now without further ado, in order of enjoyment…

Evidence of Things Seen - Sarah Weinman, ed.

A collection of true crime journalism tackling recent social justice issues and big-picture flaws in the justice system.

8/10

multiple #ownvoices essays by BIPOC authors

warning: the usual things one would expect to find in true crime journalism

Infinity Gate - M.R. Carey

A scientist, the multiverse, AI, and the nature of humanity.

8/10

Nigerian and Moroccan POV characters

warning: slavery, fire, xenophobia, war, torture, violence

Thornhedge - T. Kingfisher

Toadling confronts the knight bent on entering the sleeper’s tower.

8/10

Arab Muslim secondary character

Digger Unearthed - Ursula Vernon

A wombat’s tunnel takes her to a very foreign land. She would like to go home please—but there are gods.

8.5/10

Baking Yesteryear - B. Dylan Hollis

Tried and true recipes from the past century.

9/10

🏳️‍🌈 author

The Fragile Threads of Power - V.E. Schwab

Seven years after Red London was saved, some people have moved on and others are still picking up the pieces. And some are asking whether the king deserves to be in power.

7.5/10

POV characters of colour, 🏳️‍🌈 POV characters (gay), 🏳️‍🌈 author

Winter’s Gifts - Ben Aaronovitch

Agent Kimberley Reynolds investigates a case with “unusual characteristics” during a Michigan winter.

7/10

Ojibwe secondary characters

Lud-In-The-Mist - Hope Mirrlees

A bourgeois father tries to save his children from the plague of fairy fruit—which is hard, since it doesn’t officially exist.

6.5/10

warning: classist, misogynist, generally unkind to the disabled and mentally ill

A Long Day in Lychford - Paul Cornell

Something is wrong with the borders around Lychford and the local coven has to put things right before people get hurt.

7/10

Black British main character

warning: mild racism and xenophobia

The Vaster Wilds - Lauren Groff

A servant girl flees her colonial town for the dubious safety of the wilderness.

7/10

protagonist of colour, mentally disabled secondary character, incidental Powhatan and other indigenous characters

warning: racism, misogyny, rape, disease, starvation, murder, death of a child

Board to Death - CJ Connor

Ben turns down a suspiciously good deal on an old board game. Then the dealer turns up dead on his doorstep.

6/10

🏳️‍🌈 main character (gay), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary character (gay), 🏳️‍🌈 author, #ownvoices

Starter Villain - John Scalzi

Charlie inherits a supervillain empire, complete with a subscription mega-laser, spy cats, and enemies.

6.5/10

The Lazy Tour of Two Idle Apprentices - Charles Dickens and Wilkie Collins

Two friends go on a holiday to northern England.

7/10

Currently reading:

Like Every Form of Love - Padma Viswanathan

A writer digs into the strange, complicated story of a man she befriended in a marina.

🏳️‍🌈 secondary character (gay), Indo-Canadian author, 🇨🇦

warning: domestic and child abuse

My Roommate is a Vampire - Jenna Levine

There’s a room-to-rent in Cassie’s low, low budget. The (hot) guy renting it acts like he’s from the 1800s. Surely he’s just quirky.

🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (gay)

Music from the Earliest Notations to the Sixteenth Century - Richard Taruskin

A history of early written European music, in its social and political contexts.

Stats

Monthly total: 13 Yearly total: 100/140 Queer books: 3 Authors of colour: 0 Books by women: 5 Authors outside the binary: 0 Canadian authors: 0 Off the TBR shelves: 5 Books hauled: 6 ARCs acquired: 12 ARCs unhauled: 4 DNFs: 0

January February March April May June July August

#books #booklr #bookblr #rec lists #read in 2023 #reading wrap-ups #my photos #stacks of books

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tadpolesonalgae · 6 months

Note

Hi I’m not sure how well this will be received but sjfbdbdbd I have thoughts about CBMTHY from a reader but also writer point of view.

Honestly I can’t help to agree with some people about the pacing — it’s going quite slow and I guess I understand the point of being slow burn but it’s slow on a place where we don’t have any interaction from the two main characters together. It gives me blue balls tbh slskddmb it’s not like I want them to be married by the next chapter but It would be nice to see them interact with each other and it feels like that hasn’t happened in a while. At least not in a substantial way. I think slow burns like that work better in a book formats because you can just keep reading - in fanfics where you have to wait sometimes a month between one chapter and another that can get frustrating.

I hope this is not offensive to you, I’m just trying to put into perspective why people must be feeling so frustrated. Especially because in the horizon is so hard to see a future where the two characters get along, much less become infatuated with each other. When writing I’ve noticed that dropping small crumbs of interaction and keeping people’s hopes up works well to keep everyone at the edge of their seat, therefore interested in the story. Pacing a story is a challenge and I’m not demanding perfection, I nor professional authors have that. It’s just a friendly feedback I guess?

It guts me to see negative asks on your blog especially since your writing is so rich and interesting. And I look forward to my favorite pieces everyday, it’s a joy when you post them! I’m so invested in CBMTHY and will continue looking forward to it. I guess I related to the anon in the sense that i was simply thirsty for more. 10K words wouldn’t be enough. Thank you for sharing your work 💞

giving myself an emoji because I will be coming back - 🥐

‘I guess I understand the point of being slow burn but it’s slow on a place where we don’t have any interaction from the two main characters together’

I’m not sure how relevant this is, but one of the scenes I ended up cutting off from chapter 11 is after Azriel has flown her back up to the House and they have an actual discussion for once but I decided I wanted that to be at the beginning of a chapter so people got to go into it with a fresh mind?

But I do see what you mean about there being so few interactions with Az in the past few parts which I think was something I definitely did wrong this time around :/

‘I hope this is not offensive to you, I’m just trying to put into perspective why people must be feeling so frustrated.’

No, it’s not offensive at all! Honestly you’re being helpful and giving advice without being blunt or unkind about it, so thank you a lot :)

‘I guess I related to the anon in the sense that i was simply thirsty for more. 10K words wouldn’t be enough.’

I suppose longer chapters could be a way to clamp down on writing too many parts that don’t have Az in? They might take longer to write is the only thing I’m slightly concerned about?

Between other fics, requests and then writing chapters that are over 5/6k, I’d be a little worried but honestly that might just be what has to happen? Like it might just be a case of spending more time on it to post semi-regularly?

‘giving myself an emoji because I will be coming back - 🥐’

You’re absolutely welcome to stick around, thank you for suggesting longer chapters and giving helpful feedback on including exchanges between reader and Az so the story doesn’t drag with the pacing, I really appreciate it 🧡💛

#🥐 anon <3 #🥐#cbmthy

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writefightandflightclub · 3 months

Note

"ride or die is so special to me" ch.6 edition!!!

(Sorry this is so late work was just way busier than normal this past week!!)

Okay so right off the bat, "Santiago watches you go. Feels the violence of you being snatched from his side like a wound" why would you do that to us??? Probably bc it's beautifully written and a perfect start to this chapter but STILL. I felt personally ATTACKED by this opening. Also the callback to ch.3 which says "Santiago is a wound you could never close" 😭 babe you know I am rooting for these two but they keep hurting me AND EACH OTHER.

Is all the boys except Tom showing up foreshadowing Tom's fate in the movie?? 👀 also I like the detail that Benny is the one to follow her while Will is sort of the guard/the wall keeping the two of them apart while Frankie goes with Santi. Without having to talk about it, the squad falls into roles, you can feel their history as a team in the way they moved into, and through, this conflict. Hoping our girl and Benny don't do anything stupid (I can't remember which chapter it is so maybe I hallucinated it or something, but wasn't there a comment at some point about Benny having a soft spot for her or along those lines? I'd like to believe neither of them would be so stupid and short-sighted though).

The IRONY of Santi's fear of hurting her being the exact thing that ends up hurting her? BIG OUCH. Another ginormous ouch was this "Until Santiago feels only jitters through his weak legs. Until he feels a pit open up inside and swallow him. Until he can carry himself no further away from you. Until he realises that no matter how far he walks he cannot run from himself" LIKE THAT LAST LINE IS SO HAUNTINGLY POIGNANT!!!

Now for what might just be my favourite aspect of this chapter: Frankie being an absolute KING. "Don't talk just walk" is something I have to tell myself when I'm upset, and Frankie telling Santi that was so great!! "Don’t patronise her by thinking you know better" THANK YOU THIS IS KING SHIT FRANKIE KEEP IT UP BABY. Kudos to you balancing how messed up their military history and trauma has made each of them from Santi's perspective and how moving on is worth it from Frankie's - it makes the conflict believable and layered and interesting. The way Frankie is uniquely equipped to get through to Santiago and get him to admit what he is afraid of, what underlies all these tensions, was GORGEOUSLY explored.

However that ending??? NOOOO SANTIAGO NOOOOOO YOU LITERALLY JUST WENT THROUGH THIS WITH FRANKIE DO NOT FALL INTO THAT MENTAL TRAP AGAIN!!! I want him to do copious amounts of therapy!!!!

Can't believe how you just come up with all this stuff and write it so well? This chapter really went straight to my heart like this is the kind of shit I want injected directly into my veins it is so good!!!

Special to me anon!!! 😀🧡 Heyyyy!

Ooh thank you for this delicious commentary. And PLEASE never apologise for bestowing such a wonderful gift upon me. I would wait years. 😁

Btw, I hope that work isn’t being too unkind to you. You got this! 🧡

Okay. So. First of all I love it that you noticed that callback, with the wound imagery etc. ☺️🧡

And ooh, well we’ll have to wait and see if Tom’s absence is foreshadowing anything in this tale 👀 … but that’s such a stellar observation! Oh and I’m so pleased the way they all reacted gave hints at how they work as a unit. That it’s well-trodden. I wanted all of the relationships to feel plausible and unique but also that sense of them as a team to be present. The fact they can *mobilise*. I feel they would have roles and patterns without needing to speak about it and I did feel this is how it would go down. Oh my gosh, thank you for remembering that detail about Benny too! I did indeed suggest he has a soft spot for reader, and so I think it’s apt he’s the one to follow 🥹

And the ouches? Oof. I know, I know. Santiago really doesn’t want to hurt her. He honestly would rather suffer himself than do that. And yet… somehow they are BOTH hurting. But, he’s an expert at creating / worsening problems for himself (no shade, he’s got a lot to work through in that pretty head of his and breaking cycles is not easy). I feel like this whole scene with Frankie was so vital actually.

Also. Yes. Frankie = king. 👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑 No notes. 😁 I’m so pleased the conflict there was believable, and that their different perspectives / beliefs came through. I think one reason why it’s so hard for Santi is that when he tugs on the reader thread to try and unravel it, it’s tied on to this big ball of all his other traumas: military, grief, and more, and so it feels far too big. I do feel like Frankie is “uniquely equipped” it get through to him - love that phrasing. Sometimes when people are in it or too close to it they just need someone else to help them shift their angle of view. Even a small nudge. Frankie knows them BOTH so well and loves them, and I feel like even with everything he has going on himself he’s just slightly less jaded. He’s looking ahead to his new baby, wanting to get back on track, you know? Also, importantly, he’s TIRED. Like. Just sort it out, man.

And ahhhh the ending!!!!!!! 😱😱😱😱 I think this goes back to patterns being hard to break. I think it’s clear this one isn’t going to be solved by any one *single* moment or epiphany. That, *if* they can make it work, it’s gonna take some work. Let’s see! 🤭

Once again thank you for indulging me and letting me ramble about this story! I’m so grateful! 🧡🧡🧡

#special to me anon is special to me #ride or die series #santiago pope garcia x reader #Oscar Isaac

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vivacissimx · 1 year

Note

elasticity and dark red coat for the WIP game please x

hi!

elasticity

okay so this was meant to be a modern greysnow au for theon month that i got sooo excited about that i started typing it straight into the ao3 post box. then i deleted it by accident. worlds smallest violin plays.

trying to reconstruct is hard for me hence why this is a wip but i have some excerpts to piece together. basically the setting is the night before robb's wedding during a nice sordid get together that robb is missing from / for offscreen reasons greysnow have agreed to hook up throughout the wedding prep to ease off stress, although there's like a million rules they've come up with in order to do so

the real crux is that this is the most "public" event they've both been part of since theon escaped ramsay who is basically who he was in canon i.e. tortured/mutilated/abused/onwards theon. theon is visibly affected with various prosthetics such as dentures, a reconstructed nose, robotic finger prosthetics, a chunk of skin missing from his arm for a skin graft, and scarring in places.

jon in this is also post-captivity because he went [equivalent of beyond the wall] with his grad school cohort to collect whatever specimens and they ended up being taken hostage by an environmental group. & jon became the sort of spokesperson for the group as the person who was forced (but also chosen) to interact with the authorities & communicate back and forth. the reporting on the incident made him super recognizable and he's got this ongoing paranoia from the time he spent there.

i kinda wanted to do a thing on greysnow having a second adolescence of sorts, because neither of them really sleep so much so in this fic they stay up this whole final night talking and living in their nervous bodies and having a two-man dance party and being fidgety jumbles together. i think there is a specific joy in meeting someone as an adult who you maybe didn't get on the best with but nonetheless grew up with, like an accounting or cataloguing you can do together except in this fic it's on steroids because there's this other trauma they can explore together. Welcome To The Worst Club Nobody Wants To Be A Part Of ! vibes.

okay here is a lil excerpt:

“You aren’t saying shit,” Jon laughs, pressing his ice cold feet against Theon to both introduce a nonthreatening touch and give himself leverage to pull off his shirt. For a moment Theon stops breathing. He relaxes so quickly that most people wouldn’t notice, but Jon always noticed anyway. Maybe it was unkind to do so but he had his own moments of inescapable grasping, didn't he? From youth he’d been the attentive sort, the type to take pleasure in small moments, but there’s a razor’s edge to it all now.

A slice of paranoia, of protectiveness. Pandora’s box never did close quite right.

Yet Jon had been noticing things about Theon for ages. Force of habit, as it was. And Theon… well, Jon doesn’t know what Theon notices, or even thinks of him. Used to assume he did. Isn’t sure he wants to venture beyond those blue eyes, to know what it is that turns them from cloudy to sharp at a moment’s notice.

dark red coat at the side of my throat

CATELYNCERSEI GHOST WEDDING NIGHT!! this was meant to be for ladies night but life, man. it's actually 2/3 done and i hope to bang it out in the coming month but we'll see.

okay basically it's the night of tommenmarg wedding when cersei burns down the tower of the hand and then returns to her chamber. she does a lot of ruminating on the men she's outlived, the harms they did her, & generally having an internalized misogyny extravaganza hour as our cersei is wont to do. i wanted to connect the wildfire / borderline sexual arousal moment to then having this sort of oddly magical encounter with a lady stoneheart apparition. both of them full to the brim with thoughts of vengeance, as well as finally having the cersei-catelyn faceoff scene that catelyn once spoke of.

here's a lil excerpt:

Idly, Cersei wonders if Lyanna Stark had haunted Catelyn Tully too, when the woman first went to Winterfell. If her husband had wept and raged for his sister as Robert had, in the early years of their marriage.

Wonders if Lady Catelyn ever seethed to herself as her lord snored beside her. Robert had always said that it was only Eddard Stark who understood his grief, so who was to say? The man was made of ice, she’d thought, but perhaps he was as much slave to his baser instincts as Robert. Lord Stark had himself that bastard, did he not?

Did Ned Stark ever hold his Catelyn down as Robert had done Cersei, searching for their precious Lyanna, pathetic and half limp? Had Ned Stark ever wrapped his hand around Catelyn’s throat, as Robert did once, not so rough as to choke but certainly with no thought to her comfort in his mind? Cersei touches her own hand to her thin neck, rubbing her thumb at the pulse.

Would he have done that? The Stark sigil was a direwolf, no? Yet Lord Eddard had never shown much of the wolf in him. It was him the floppy fish, and his wife the one who snarled and gnashed.

They said Catelyn Stark had fought off a man who sought to kill her crippled son with her own hands.

#fic asks #text #greysnow #catcers

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alittlewhos-this · 2 years

Text

AN: I haven’t written a fic in 84 years but I’m meant to be writing a novel so obviously now is the time to pick it up again. I love you, wife, for being a bad influence. Summary: A meditation-style ficlet about Richard Ellis

Richard buys them at pawn shops every so often, little trinkets he can keep ferreted about himself. How often he visits depends entirely on how good of a time he’s been having, how much His Majesty & Co have been travelling, and what exactly Lady Luck has to say for Richard.

It isn’t a bad trip up to Yorkshire, into the presence of a gormless, impeccably handsome butler. He’s rarely seen a butler so stately and it’s enough to make him think, maybe, he could retire to some old estate and do the same thing as Barrow. Welcome visitors with open arms, and all that. It’s not a bad life.

And it isn’t a bad shout, either, when Richard hangs back with his mum long enough that he’s only a bystander as he realises what, exactly, has happened to the club that night. He stands across the street, smoking in an alley, and watches the men all be carted off. Poor buggers. There but for the Grace of God, he thinks, though there is also the undercurrent of Serves them right.

Richard’s never been caught with his trousers down, metaphorically or otherwise. Even when he writes letters to men he’s been with, there’s nothing in them like what a lover would say. If they send him something back with that sort of thing in, he ignores that part of the reply and burns the letter; they get the gist. And there’s never initials on anything he leaves. Not his initials, anyway.

He doesn’t do it to be unkind, quite the opposite. Like a bugger’s private charity: there’s always a little bit of hope. But he lets the trinkets do much more of the talking, because his mouth has been known to lie to make people smile – and maybe the trinkets do, too, but at least without specific words tied to them.

There isn’t much thought behind it when Richard decides to spring Barrow, other than that their meeting might be made to raise a few eyebrows with their colleagues if it comes out. He doesn’t really think Thomas would do time, because of his position and not being caught doing much, but his name in the paper would be enough to make a right balls up of his life. Hardly seems fair, especially not when Thomas was meant to be waiting for him.

Then again, if he’d stayed waiting -

But Richard isn’t one for grudges. He isn’t one for debts, either, and so doesn’t question if it’s in gratitude or desire that Thomas goes down on his knees in front of him. It isn’t one he gets often; a little gormless, maybe, but naïveté certainly isn’t a trait he’d ascribe Thomas.

The next morning, with Thomas’s eyes sweet as sugar looking at him, he’s pretty glad it’s the last morning. He likes him, he does, but he isn’t sure he’d ever trust Thomas to take care of either of them. And he kisses him before he leaves, their first, with the door open so they’re necessarily cut off, so Thomas doesn’t say anything he’d regret saying while he’s still a little cockstruck.

He hands him his token like a knight and a maiden in reverse, his second to last one on this tour, and promises to write.

And he does.

They write for months, about little and big things, their work and families, gossip, but Thomas never quite gets the hints rest do. It’s like half the time he’s a normal, sensible bloke and the rest of the letter is written in heart’s blood and hairpins.

He feels a little bad about lying to him about being engaged (God, imagine - his mother’d die of shock twice), but it isn’t enough to stop him from writing the letter with a steady hand. He can’t have someone like that attached to him, can’t really afford it. He doesn’t think anyone could.

What was it he gave to Thomas? A watch fob with something on it. But it doesn’t really matter; no one would know where it had come from.

Underneath the bright silvery light / You'll be feeling better soon / Pick up your hat / Close up your flat / Get out, get under the moon

#That song is from 1928 but suck my dick #Thomas barrow #Richard Ellis #keep wanting to type Harris

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drunkengodsofslaughter · 1 year

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i totally get if you don't want to talk about it anymore, feel free to delete this if that's the case! but i saw your posts about the st poll thing and i just wanna say that i totally get how you're feeling. i made a few joking posts about it and ended up having some severe anxiety because i thought some crazy people would send me some very unkind things or something :")

i truly don't understand why, when it comes to steve harrington, there will always be a part of this fanbase who will immediately dismiss you. for instance the part of the fandom that does scene analysis and stuff here on tumblr really intrigues me! and i thought of joining it a few times and making a few posts but if you aren't like. 100% dedicated to either byler or something else that they like then you just kind of are seen as a joke. i'm the kind of person who really likes theories and analysis but also really enjoys silly things, and there's like. no room for that with them? idk i think maybe i'm gettinga bit off topic so sorry for that but genuinely i don't understand why we can't just have a favorite character without being attacked senselessly. this whole ordeal has left a major bad taste in my mouth as well :/

It’s cool - I’ll talk about it as I’ve calmed down now a little bit m lol. Also it’s so funny how I was literally on your blog as I got your notification.

Yeah ngl when I also posted that stuff I felt nervous too honestly but also I was just in a little rage mood so that helped into wanting to post it. Also I hope no one sent you anything bad about the posts you made about it.

Yes yes yes! It’s insane to me how it’s always Steve that people will just dismiss you because you like him or just say the most hateful shit. Also like I love all the characters but just post more about Steve which is ironic that these people are doing this considering that some of their blogs talk about mainly their fav characters while they like other characters. And yes yes yes about the analysis stuff like all of the other blogs seem to have a pattern of just being ride or die for some other stuff and like they do intrigue me of the theories and stuff. But somehow they’re the ones who always just end up dissing Steve or people who like him and the majority of them are like heavy byler blogs. So despite it also intriguing me their side of the fandom: it also just like wants me to get away from them. So I totally get what you mean about all of this.

And same like it’s totally normal to want the theories and analysis but also have the silly stuff. Having that balance is perfectly normal and don’t feel bad for going off topic. And yeah same like I genuinely don’t understand what’s so bad about liking Steve that people will attack others for it. idk what they even get out of it at this point. Like it’s not a good look on people and it’s just going to make others have a grudge against them so I honestly don’t even understand what they’re trying to do now. And same yeah it’s just left a whole bad taste in my mouth too because like it was a stupid poll. Hell a poll that other people who don’t watch st could have seen and just picked a character because they were familiar with it or just their finger slipped and they didn’t want to pick who they wanted (I accidentally did this on the poll cuz I thought Steve was the first option so I accidentally hit Mike 💀) . Like just because an option is winning a poll in fandom stuff it doesn’t actually mean much like I said people who don’t know anything about st could have just choosen one that they were most familiar with. A poll doesn’t just stay within a fandom just like a post that’s about a fandom with the characters sometimes doesn’t stay in only the fandom space. It’s just wild to me how this was the only poll that actually had drama like all of the other polls had the word protagonist and no one was going crazy about it at all. But suddenly cuz you add Steve to the mix these people want to create drama like hello hes a main character as this is an ensemble show and he’s literally been on all the posters except for season 1 because he was considered a side character then but now in season 4 he is not a side character at all. Hell even in season 2 he wasn’t considered a side character and was pretty important to the plot. Lol this was a long rant cuz j have a lot to say about it so I’ll shut up now before I go on an even longer rant.

#answered asks #thanks so much for this

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winniehowls · 1 year

Text

AN INTRODUCTION TO WINNIE LUPIN ☽

Positive traits: friendly, loyal, protective, brave, strong, creative, athletic, curious

Negative traits: reckless, impulsive, stubborn, bossy, short-tempered, competitive, heavy-handed

ESTP * 23 * Werewolf * 5’2 * Dry Cleaner Employee

Little Details:

On first impression, Winnie has a tendency to come off a bit tough and abrasive, but not in an unkind way… at least she hopes!

Very very protective of her friends— particularly the ghouls. Her protectiveness has heightened being in evermore.

TOTAL show off. She is very confident and proud about her skills and abilities. Even if she has a supernatural advantage...

Winnie is actually a pretty decent cook. She would be better if she turned to measurements and recipes instead of "instincts." But! her nose does help her to pick out the freshest ingredients!

Speaking of instincts, the girl relies heavily on hers for nearly every aspect of her life. Especially when it comes to other people. If she ever meets someone who makes her hair stand on end, she'll make it a point to keep an eye on them.

LOVES sour lemonade, something she shares with her father, and frequently keeps homemade jars of different flavors in her fridge.

Winnie's eyes glow a bright yellow whenever she's in her werewolf form or in moments of high emotion. Particularly when she's really angry.

Frequently looks at people with the thought: "I could take them."

Sometimes a victim of R.B.F.

In moments where she's really excited or happy, Winnie's feet start tapping as opposed to a tail wagging. She'll also have to resist the urge to howl.

Does not like asking people for help or showing moments of weakness.

She loves a thrill and is a little bit of a troublemaker (whether intentional or not).

If people don't return for their clothes past the contracted time at the dry cleaners, Winnie will take them home and wear them as sacrifices on the full moon so that she's not always destroying her own clothing.

Roommates with Phyllis. Yes their apartment is as loud and chaotic as you think it would be. In the best way!

Dive Deeper:

Anything active Winnie is just over the moon for! This girl is a natural when it comes to sports and athletics. She’s constantly in the gym, at the park, or signing up for some kind of community sports event or intramural team. Plus, not only are these great ways for her to let out her high energy and built up emotions, they’re also so much fun! Although, she tends to get quite competitive… so it’s not uncommon to catch her hogging the ball or taunting her opponents... but it’s all in good fun, of course! At least it always starts that way. Usually.

Winnie howls in the face of danger. There’s hardly anything that scares her. Even if there is it’s not likely she’d let anyone know. However, even in Evermore, there is still one thing that plagues her nightmares… and that’s Revolta. More specifically, Winnie’s involvement with Revolta. While memories are hazy now in Evermore, the one thing that Winnie can’t seem to forget is the paralyzing guilt of how she was the first one caught by Revolta — corrupting her dearest friends in consequence. It was all her fault. She can’t help but beat herself up about how if she were stronger, faster, or smarter even that none of that would have happened. In her nightmares, Winnie is the last one Revolta turns sinister and she’s forced to watch as her best ghouls become the ruthless monsters of fable… The nightmares never fails to wake her up in a cold sweat and it’s one of the driving factors of how increasingly protective Winnie became over the ghouls. She doesn’t know what she’d do if she was the reason one of the them got hurt. She doesn’t know if she’d be able to forgive herself a second time.

Shifting on command and by the moon are two different stories. One is welcomed and controlled. The other is forced and wild. When Winnie turns on command, she trusts herself to know her limits, freely roam the woods and not harm anyone she happens to come across. Moon transformations are totally different. Under the full moon, Winnie’s at her most powerful but at the price of her control. She becomes akin to the monster people assume werewolves to be. Because of this, Winnie has a very specific spot in the woods that she goes to for full moons. An abandoned shack near the edge of Evermore’s border acts as a safe house where she can contain herself behind locked doors amongst other things. The full moon transformations also take a big toll on her both physically and mentally. After full moons, Winnie takes anywhere from one and half to three days to recover depending on the the type of full moon, the night’s conditions and her stubbornness. Super moons, eclipses and nights with clear skies are the worst.

The amount of things this girl accidentally breaks is mind boggling. Ripped clothing, snapped hangers, decapitated hairbrushes, popped volleyballs, cracked phones… she does not have the gentlest of hands. Even when it comes to daily graces and manners, Winnie is usually lacking. She can’t count how many times she’s unintentionally stepped on Tanis’ wrapping or knocked into Sibella or Elsa so hard that they fell through Phyllis. She can’t even keep the occasional house plant alive, save for some wolfsbane she attempts to grow herself for emergencies.

While Winnie loves both of her parents with her whole heart, she’s always had a much closer relationship with her father. Maybe it was because he allowed her to embrace her personality and inner werewolf more than her mother did. Whenever they were together they were like two peas in a pod. Or perhaps two wolves in a pack? Winnie looks up to him so much. He’s her biggest supporter and her greatest role model. She could always count on him to calm her down, to make her laugh or even to steal the last sip of sour lemonade from the fridge. What she would give to share a glass with him right now in Evermore…

#intro post #she's here for a howling good time !

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thevashstampede · 2 years

Text

Mild NOPE spoilers but

I haven’t really seen anyone talk about the aspect of generational trauma in this movie? The scene that really hit home with me and finally tied it all together was when OJ does the Eyes Gesture at Em during the final confrontation, that’s when I was like, Okay, Mr. Jordan Peele fucking Gets It.

Like the relationship between black siblings, especially those socialized/raised as the opposite sex is something that can truly be So Layered and Complicated. Like you’re dealing with the generational trauma handed down to you by your parents, ACTED upon you by your parents in harmful ways, whether they mean to or not, and then also there’s this Other person like you, but not like you at all, dealing with the same shit, but separated and acted upon by sexism and societal notions of gender, and gender specifically through the lens of Blackness, which is a whole Other can of worms. And GOD have you lashed out at each other because of it, done cruel and unkind things to each other. CONTINUE to harm each other sometimes. Like I’m getting notes of “Father focuses on and favors Son™ over Daughter” from this. And as adults, just from first brush we see that Em can be selfish and unreliable, while OJ doesn’t take her seriously and blows her off.

But they’re still siblings! We’re still all we’ve got! We still cling to each other in a world that doesn’t want to understand or respect us!! Despite their beefs and grievances with each other, OJ and Em doggedly stay with each other! And that’s really just how it be! The scene where young OJ looks up at his sister in the window, and does the Eyes Gesture is so important!! He really said as a young child, “We can CHOOSE to be different from our parents, we can CHOOSE to hold EACH OTHER even when no one else will.” And when Em comes back to the ranch after it’s very clear that the Risk far outweighs the Reward and when OJ does the Eyes at her again at the end when he’s risking it all so she can get away it’s really giving “It’s fucking rotten work, but for you I’ll do it anyways” !!! Ride or die, bitch! even though you were genetically engineered to piss me off!! And that’s really how it be on this bitch of an earth when you have a Sibling and also you’re black and you’re saddled with generational trauma!

Like it’s such a specific relationship dynamic but so Accurately captured with that little bittersweet tinge of Hope that I just!! Wig I guess!!!

#nope movie #NOPE spoilers #Jordan peele #daniel kaluuya #keke palmer #big sibling energy #listen I love this movie so much

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softskiesahead-moved · 2 years

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I finished this “introduce your selfship” form and I’d like to put it here!! I hope you’re all doing well today/tonight (^-^)/♡

*Tell us about the S/I and F/O(s) you’re discussing! Name, source, job (if it applies), personality, or other information you think is necessary!

chihiro fujisaki

source: danganronpa: trigger happy havoc

occupation: ultimate programmer, student

age: 19 canonically, but ranges from 15-20 in the course of the ship.

personality: chihiro is incredibly sweet and kind!! however, they have a timid nature and struggle with self confidence and identity. they’re also highly intelligent, which doesn’t get recognized enough!! :)

aya uren

occupation: ultimate illustrator, student

age: 15-20 over the course of the ship

personality: generally quiet and friendly, but painfully shy at first. she’s known to have a bit of a gloomy disposition and she’s very anxious and self critical. to those she’s more comfortable with, she warms up quite a bit and a more dreamy and eccentric side emerges.

* How did your S/I and F/O(s) first meet? Did they know of each others’ existence beforehand?

chihiro and aya met during their 1st year of hope’s peak. admittedly, they only very vaguely knew of each other before then.

* How did they behave in the beginning of they relationship? What did they think of each other? What do they think of each other now, & how do they currently behave?

nervous. they’re both terrified of messing up in some way. it took a lot of pushing from their classmates to even reach a confession. both had scarce experience with romance and were still grappling with their self esteem in the early years.

they’d become very close during their first year and were concerned that trying to pursue their mutual feelings would end up spoiling the platonic connection that they held so dearly.

aya viewed chihiro as someone quite sacred, because they were one of the first healthy friendships she had developed and she considered them to be a kindred spirit to her. at times, she couldn’t help but overflow with parts of her personality she kept isolated to be “safe”.

essentially, she was caught in this odd limbo between feeling more safe than she ever had and a slowly building anxiety that she would ruin things in the end.

during their friendship, chihiro had come to trust aya more than almost anyone. she was the first they were able to open up to about their struggles with their identity and thus the first to be able to help them work through it. although I don’t think chihiro had no friends previously, I don’t think it’s far off to assume that they only really had a few and there was always that rift preventing them from being authentic with others. for a reason like that, I think chihiro might have chosen to be alone instead, similarly to how aya did so to protect herself.

further on, they are basically inseparable from each other. they become each other’s safe-houses for a world they both find overwhelming and often unkind. it’s not necessarily completely physical, but even while they are students at hope’s peak, their lives become twisted together. they get teased for acting like a married couple by their friends and classmates for the manners in which they take care of each other.

* Were there any huge turning points that changed how your S/I or F/O(s) saw each other, or was it gradual? Describe it to us!

their relationship growth is quite gradual. there are definitely instances where they notice things about each other that changes their views (primarily, they both slowly realize how poorly the other views themself) but nothing about it is very dramatic.

* Tell us about a defining moment in the self-ship lore (for example - the most impactful moment, a moment your S/I and F/O reminisce over all the time, a moment that fans of the self-ship would see as the “ship’s iconic scene”, etc.)!

oh!! it’s important to distinguish here that chiaya has a despair story path and a hope story path. this scene only happens in the despair path.

if chiaya was in the game/anime and had any fans, I think this would be “the scene”.

in the beginning of the mutual killing game, chihiro and aya are both struggling to sleep at night. taking guidance from aoi, aya (very shyly) suggests that they share a dorm as well. perhaps they would feel remotely safer and could get some sleep!

it does not work. they’re still too anxious, but bond and talk through the nights. every morning, they show up to the meeting like zombies. after a few days of this, they sit in chihiro’s dorm after the nighttime announcement. aya prompts chihiro to talk about a program they made once (because she really really likes listening to their voice light up and talk about something they love) but she doesn’t get to hear much of it before she slumps over and finally falls asleep…on chihiro’s lap. cue flustered and sleep deprived chihiro, who freaks out for a few minutes but eventually becomes victim to sleep as well. they wake up cuddling <3

* If discussing a Romantic F/O, who confessed their feelings first and where/when? Did it go smoothly?

in the hope story path and the pre!killing game part of the despair path, chihiro confesses. they sort of do a secret admirer thing that their classmates help with. they build up to confessing in person and aya is so relieved when she finds out who it is. she loved the letters, but was secretly worried about the prospect of having to turn down such a sweet admirer (because of her feelings for chihiro) she says something along the lines of “I’m so glad it was you!” and confesses back.

in the later part of the despair path, aya is the one who confesses. (very big TW here for mentions of suicide!!)

there’s a point during the killing game in which monokuma takes advantage of aya’s unstable state and history of poor mental health and manipulates her; promising her loved ones would be safe if she “removed” herself from the game. (his intention being to twist her death into being a murder and seeding more distrust and despair among the remaining students) aya writes three letters, one to her family, one to her classmates and one to chihiro in which she confesses her feelings and apologizes to them. her attempt ends up failing and not resulting in a class trial, but chihiro still receives the letter.

* Do your S/I and F/O(s) have any nicknames for each other? What are they?

aya —> chihiro

cinnamon

chi

darling

love

chihiro —> aya

love

bunny

baby

* How did their first time hanging out/going on a date go? What did they do?

their first official date was at an arcade :) it was really the perfect spot, the lighthearted fun of the games helped melt away their nervousness.

they played games together, ended up winning some prizes (and gifting them to the other, obviously ^^) and afterwards they found a cafe to relax and decompress in.

* Has your S/I had any slumber parties (or in general late nights out) with your F/O(s)? How did those go?

everyday is a slumber party with these two /hj

they have quite a few late nights together, since they’ve gotten into the habit of sleeping in the same dorm (it doesn’t really matter who’s dorm it is at this point) and neither of them have even a remotely healthy sleep schedule.

they’re very fond of late night baking, sometimes aya will cuddle with chihiro while they’re programming (or vice versa, chihiro will watch aya draw) or they’ll do homework together at obscenely late times. these occasions are usually pretty mellow, but if they’ve been up a little too long, they can get a bit silly.

* Do your S/I and F/O(s) live together? If so, where?

technically? they live together in the dorm building at hope’s peak (separate from the one we see in game, since that one is canonically an older, abandoned campus building that class 78 would not have used during their actual school life)

as said previously, they often stay in the same dorm as well! it might be a little against the rules, but no one else in the dorm hall really cares enough to enforce that. they’re naturally quiet and don’t bother anyone.

* What love languages do your S/I & F/O(s) have?

chihiro

words of affirmation - they can be pretty insecure, so hearing nice words or encouragement always makes them light up!! they always try their best to spread that feeling to the ones they love as well and notice if someone could use some kindness, even if they’re a little awkward with the delivery.

acts of service - chihiro loves to be able to help others! they’re the type to silently try and make everyone else’s lives easier. even though they themself thrive off of words, they’re also prone to nervousness and enjoy that acts of service can be subtle and silent. however, they get really flustered when someone tries to do things for them and aya 100% uses this to her advantage

aya

words of affirmation - look, this ship is a very insecure pair. they both thrive off of the affirmations they get from each other, because they’re close enough to know all the secret fears and flaws too. that being said, aya is the type to constantly doubt herself or feel perpetually inferior and words are a simple way to ease that. she’s fairly observant too, so makes a point to compliment others.

giving gifts - this likely stems from her artistic abilities in some way. she enjoys making things for others :) but she is also the kind of person to see things that remind her of someone and decide to pick it up. it’s not always physical, sometimes it’s something cute she found online or a picture of something. the same way words of affirmation soothe her anxiety, gifts act like a physical reminder that she loves and is loved.

* Did your S/I or F/Os make any friends from each others’ friend groups (like, does your S/I have any friends they met through F/O, or vice versa)?

most of class 78 becomes very close on their own, so I won’t talk about them here.

chihiro and chiaki befriend each other early on because of their mutual interests, but aya ends up meeting chiaki separately, after getting lost in the halls and nanami helping her. as a thank you, aya draws a character from the game she was playing. it is chihiro who suggests they all hang out together though! aya ends up introducing chihiro to kaede and maki and eventually ryota as well.

* What does your S/I’s family think about your F/O(s), or what does your F/O(s)’s family think about your S/I?

aya’s family really likes chihiro! it struck them as odd at first that aya and chihiro seemed to have such similar personalities, but they overall are just happy that aya loves them. she has a few younger siblings and chihiro gets along with them well too (even though they can be a bit mischievous and teasing. chihiro has definitely ended up as the victim of a few pranks)

I think taichi probably likes aya! (I hope so…) it would definitely be awkward at first, mostly because aya wants to make a good impression very badly. if anything, he might accidentally get the feeling she dislikes him, because she’s always so nervous around him. but after a while the walls would break down and they would get along well :) I think taichi would like that aya is a bit protective of chihiro and vice versa.

* Is there symbolism/an asethetic that you associate with your self-ship?

I think by virtue of my own tastes and art style, our ship has a rather soft aesthetic! it’s not really something that is well thought through, just things I think we would both like and things that make me personally feel safe. there’s some themes of technology, pixel and internet-culture elements.

* Are there any tropes that apply to your self-ship?

friends to lovers + mutual pining :)

#if u read all of this ily!! <3 <3 #feeling. so in love tonight #chiaya #at some point I’d like to make a timeline and basic guide to the ship + use them in a redone carrd but I’m not there yet in terms of time;;#but this was really fun to fill out ^-^

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