#also i realize the. irony? of me even vaguely talking about it in the way i did but 1. i think that's also realistic when you

[skunkes]

unsure how to word this but there is something about having ocs with unsavory events happening in their past where it's like. talking about it, even when asked, seems almost gratuitous and inappropriate. and i'd much rather describe it through the oc themself and/or draw Them saying it. which is like. fitting for the subject matter? like of course its weird to talk about somebody else's business...!

and falls back into humanizing em/exploratory writing and development where u consider the impact of words said/words unsaid/HOW those words are said etc etc

#because not all real persons would give u every detail of their trauma obviously #which makes sense but im an overexplainer but also it feels inappropriate to overexplain when it comes to dis #i hope that makes sense #talkys #i once described what went down with al as just directly as possible and it still felt weird. ykwim?? idk why. #well i do know why! i dont want it to seem gratuitous or like That Cheap Writing Element. fine line #same with talon so he'll just keep implying it thru text + dialogue which is how it should be ! #the only difference is i think with al i wrote it like he would've said it bc he has more access to that side of himself #and is aware of how it affected him #whereas characterwise talon absolutely would just speak in riddles about and around it #i don't even think he's conscious about the direct effects of it #(but i wouldnt know bc he hasn't made that known to me in my brain) #people respond differently to different things and all that #also im so sorry if half the shit ive said recently is so like. Well Duh. i havent made a new oc in a decade gimme a break LOL #also i realize the. irony? of me even vaguely talking about it in the way i did but 1. i think that's also realistic when you #dont want to do a whole deep dive on someone else's business and 2. people are becoming #curious about my oc(s) and im just thinking about well; significant events and how to handle not speaking about em #FOR them. <- weirdly #idk. they're real to me. #its just so much more interesting to leave it up to them! people can lie people can downplay

[obraveyouth]

Not to be a Debbie downer but I am curious because it seems to me like making Link have Gerudo ancestry wouldn't add anything to his story? I mean, for instance, keeping him Hylian and having him despise the gods would make it more impactful than him being a Gerudo and not liking them. Plus, if he wasn't raised by his Gerudo mother, how would he have that same mindset based on his ancestry?

outofcharacter. lemme start by saying, thanks for the message! well it adds a lot, to me. i enjoy what i call ‘blackifying’ my muses, because well ‘m black. it follows the whole mentality of ‘if the world won’t give me representation, I’ll make it myself’ and in doing so i was like well nothing is known about his parents ( i ignore the tp manga for anything except two things ): so i was like i could make him half gerudo on his moms side and i been rolling with it.

the reasoning i like it is, tp is post oot by a couple hundred years ( even if i disagree with that timeline but what can ya do… they chANGED THE MAP TOO MUCH ): so it wouldn’t be illogical for the gerudo descendants to have another male, in fact it is such a cruel irony: destiny has made it so that you, not even attached to much of this culture outside of vague knowings and a darker complexion, have to kill your predecessor. link never even realized he was half gerudo until he met telma ( who’s become like his auntie in my personal hc and i think @tenebriism ‘s telma and him already have that kinda thang going on too ): but also, link isn’t from hyrule, even if he is half hylian.

he has no ties to this kingdom he is fated to save and what does he get out of it, all he wanted to do was save his friends and go back to his quiet peaceful farm life in his village. making him half-gerudo just adds salt to the wound. it isn’t so much that he hates the gods, he hates the way they do things but he wasn’t even raised with any kinda one religion in mind. he’s always been a nature boy and thankful to the earth but other than that he was always kinda neutral ( which again, is why he finds it so funny that out of any and everyone—the gods of old picked him ): oh link’s mom didn’t die till he was around thirteen or so, so he was very well raised by her and she is where he got his adoration for reading and all matter of studies from whereas he got the knack from swordplay from his father and later rusl who took over in that department once his dad died, around a year or so before the events of tp.

well, link doesn’t know if his dad is truly dead or not. he left on the day of his mothers death anniversary and never returned to ordon ( some way he was found by some hyrulian knights, others say he took his own life. who really knows ): anywho, it is by meeting telma and talking with her that he learns more about why is mother acted the way she did and why, of all places they ended up in ordon, a place not apart of hyrule but still holding some connection to it.

he views hyrule as meh, the only three people in all of castle town link doesn’t dislike are: telma ( and the other members of the resistance ), agitha, and zelda herself. he finds the people of hyrule to be pretty fake faced with few exceptions and considering he comes from a small farming village that is like one big family, doesn’t like the class system either within the city. there’s more i could go into but like i’d be here for another 3-5 paragraphs and that’s a lot to read asdfgjkl

sorry if this is kinda all over the place ‘m eepy but i don’t consider you being a debbie downer at all, it makes me happy you even read my silly lil’ post nonnie haha. but the short case is i made link biracial and decided to give a canonical reason for him being so besides just being tanned from outside. my boy’s got southern charm, seasoned food, loneliness, and rage 😅

#△ — message › ❝ incoming letter from the local postman ❞ #( idk what else to take this as orz ) #( i am also on mobile so sorry for typos !!! ) #[ooc // mobile.]

[sack-thing]

I saw the prompt "You're the only one I could turn to for help" from @yearoftheotpevent and suddenly I wanted to write something for it with Luu Kah and Ramsey. I used a draft from a while ago, but turned it narrated and in english. Also the prompt is not used literally but close enough.

So here's a modest little thing (1,257 words).

I didn't want to bother with description tbh so: they're hanging out, sitting somewhere outside in Tipa, and it's during or near the end of year 5, before the last journey. Ramsey's probably somewhat aware of his crush at this point.

- - -

"Hey, Luu… If I told you that I can hear a voice speak in my head sometimes, would you think I'm crazy?"

Even as he kept his eyes on the horizon, Ramsey could see from the corner of the eye that his question made Luu Kah shift and glance at him.

"What do you mean? Like, hearing your own thoughts? That's pretty common stuff if you ask me", Luu Kah replied with some irony in his voice. Ramsey felt his lips twist in a tiny smile, even though he was nervous about bringing up the topic. But right now he couldn't think of anything to answer back, and eventually Luu Kah resumed with a more serious tone. "Err… Do you have an example?"

Ramsey scratched his head, searching for the right words to describe those abnormal experiences he had. Maybe he should start from the beginning. "The first time something weird happened, it was the day after I was saved in Lynari Desert. When I woke up in the morning, I felt like someone was there even though I was all alone. And then later on, one day… I had this feeling again, but I even heard them speak."

There was a short silence before Luu Kah replied. "When was that?"

"It was… When Noel killed the Black Knight. I could have sworn I heard someone talk. It was a woman's voice that didn't belong to anyone there. No one else but me seemed to notice, though," Ramsey added.

"Now that you say it, I remember you had a weird look on your face at some point. But then… What did the voice say?"

"It was pretty sudden, I'm not so sure of it anymore. But I think she said she didn't want things to end this way. About the Black Knight's death, I assume." Ramsey paused. He didn't recall everything given how fuzzy that moment was, but he remembered the next part because of how weird it was. "Then she said that someone was making everyone suffer or something like that."

Ramsey stayed silent for a moment. When saying it out loud, that last part made even less sense. He was about to take a look at Luu Kah, but refrained from doing it as he was worried about the expression he’d find on his face.

Fortunately, Luu Kah broke the silence soon enough. "Okay, it sure is pretty vague but it seems to match with the events of that day."

The tone in his voice didn't make him feel like he thought he was crazy. Ramsey took a brief glance at him after all. "Do you believe me?"

Luu Kah looked back at him. "Well, we've sure seen a lot of weird stuff during our journeys. And you're not the kind of guy to make up stuff like that." Ramsey had a tiny smile. He felt relieved. "Maybe something happened while you were cursed and turned into stone in the desert. Did you tell Weylin?"

"No… You're the first to know," Ramsey answered.

Luu Kah seemed a bit surprised before smiling faintly. "Oh. You think she wouldn't believe you?"

"I don't know. It's just… I wasn't comfortable speaking about it at all. I mean, it's so weird. Sometimes I'm not even sure of the things I've heard or felt anymore," Ramsey explained.

"Hmm… And so, the voice you heard when the Black Knight died, did you hear it again later?"

Ramsey realized it was actually the only time. "No… But I felt the weird presence again later. The last time it happened was when we were at Hurdy's place in Alfitaria." He remembered how it went. They had tried to help Hurdy remember about the Black Knight and about himself, but the man was struck by a violent headache. And then he said…

"Wait," Luu Kah interrupted his reminiscence, "was it right when he said there was a light somewhere in the room? And no one else could see it?" Ramsey looked at him with his mouth half open and nodded. Luu Kah knew exactly where he was going. "Then that makes two of you having a weird experience at the same time. See, you're not crazy!"

Ramsey chuckled and felt some relief again. He looked away, trying to reorganize his thoughts. He shook his head. "But I can't explain it. Sure, I can see that the Black Knight and Hurdy were involved with each other since they were travel companions before. And I can see that the weird stuff happened to me when one of them was there.” Except for that morning on Lynari island. “Most of the time, anyway. But then, what would this voice… What would this ghost be? Was it —or she— following them? But why was I the only one who heard her?”

Ramsey thought he saw Luu Kah shiver. "A ghost, huh… I really hope not," the latter replied while holding his arms against his chest. It wasn’t long before he loosened his stance and resumed. "I don't know. You went through some uncommon shit by being turned into stone for a while. The Black Knight and Hurdy also went through… you know, amnesia and all that. Hurdy even thought he was two different persons. Those aren’t things you normally get to live.”

Ramsey reflected upon Luu Kah's words for a moment, until he held his head with his two hands and scratched his hair vigorously. "Aaah, I don't get it! There must be a piece of the puzzle that we're missing and chances are things won't make sense until we have it."

Luu Kah looked at him again with a grin that looked just a bit playful. "Probably. Do you think you can handle it until then?"

Ramsey chuckled and exchanged another look with Luu Kah. Of course his friend knew how he couldn’t stand unsolved mysteries. "I guess I don't have much of a choice, huh?"

Luu Kah kept smiling for a second before looking away. He now had a thoughtful expression on his face and resumed. "How can I help?"

Ramsey wasn't expecting the question. He kept his gaze on him while answering on the whim. "I guess… Just by listening to me and believing what I said. Knowing that I'm not completely alone in this helps." Luu Kah looked at him again, his expression harder to decipher than before. "And… you're the only one I felt comfortable enough with to confide in."

Luu Kah's eyes widened a bit. At this moment, Ramsey felt a slight embarrassment, but Luu Kah had a smile on his lips when he looked away.

Ramsey meant what he said, though. He didn’t feel like talking about it with anyone at first —not even with Délia, because he didn’t want her to worry about him any more than she had already— but he knew he could trust Luu Kah. And even if he was nervous about it for a moment, he did expect him to listen carefully… which he did more often ever since Ramsey had been saved from the stone curse.

“Alright.” Luu Kah glanced at him with a playful expression. “Do you think that a little sparring session would help clear your mind, too? I feel like I’m rusting when we’re home for too long.”

Ramsey laughed; he agreed with that last statement. Without waiting for his answer, as if he knew already, Luu Kah got on his feet and held out a hand to him. Ramsey raised his chin to look at him. He simply grinned and took his hand, accepting the offer.

#luuram #luu kah #ramsey #my scribbles #idk how hard it is to follow without having the details of the story but let's say it's not the most important? lol #sorry #writing this mostly for myself i guess #anyway luu kah's definitely in love with ramsey at this point #but he's good at acting casual :')

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I’ve enjoyed Chris Flemming’s YouTube videos for many years now, they’ve been among the most consistent things in my re-watch cycle. Not every single one of them in order or anything - this is a rare case where I don’t follow some strict schedule that’s managed by a spreadsheet. I’ve seen them all at least once, and every few months, when I’m having an evening in which I drink whisky and watch silly things on YouTube, that evening will involve clicking through the Chris Flemming videos in whatever order I feel like doing. They always, always make me laugh. Doesn’t matter how many times I’ve seen them or how long it’s been, there are a few that make me fall apart laughing every single time.

All of that means it’s quite weird that Chris Flemming has an entire stand-up show for free on his YouTube channel, and that’s the one video on that channel that I’d never watched before today. I guess I just hadn’t really thought of him as a stand-up, I just enjoy his short videos. But I’m going through some episodes of the Comedian’s Comedian podcast at the moment, have downloaded Chris Flemming’s and will get to it at some point, and realized they’re going to talk about his stand-up and I’ll get more out of it if I’ve actually seen his stand-up. Also, why haven’t I already seen his stand-up, when it’s right there and I know I find him hilarious?

Anyway, I’ve fixed that now, with a very entertaining 68 minutes that I highly recommend to anyone else who finds him funny:

It had a few bits that covered stuff from his shorter YouTube videos, but also lots that was new to me, even though I’ve seen all those videos. It made me laugh an enormous amount. His ability to be laugh-out-loud funny via casual use of language is amazing. It’s not unusual for people to be funny with the words they casually throw into a sentence. It is unusual, I think, for humour of that type to be so fucking funny that it makes people lose their breath from laughing. The offhanded similes and metaphors used to describe people are legendary.

This had me re-watching a few of my favourite Chris Flemming YouTube videos, and I realized something upsetting while watching the Adventure Dad one:

I’m currently in a job where I work with adults who have developmental delays, and I’ve just realized when I’m at work, I talk like the adventure dad from the Chris Flemming video. By which I mainly mean I call them “buddy” too much, I guess. I’ve worked in fields like this before, and I don’t like the way some staff members will infantalize the clients by talking to them like they’re children. Though I’ve also worked with disabled children, and for that matter non-disabled children, and I don’t like the idea of talking to children like they’re children either. But also, if I’m working with clients who understand less than I do and it’s my job to both entertain them and keep them in line, I have to let all those things seep into the way I interact with them somehow. So my compromise is the adventure dad. A lot of “Hey there buddy, what’s up, what’s going on, hey can you come help me out with this, bud, hey we’re getting this done, awesome, you rockstar.” All with, like, a vague layer of irony over it. Sort of. I think I do that a bit while coaching too. It’s a bit painful to hear Chris Flemming satirize it so effectively.

Also, I’ve heard twelve episodes of the Comedian’s Comedian podcast in the last week (I know the exact number because obviously I have a spreadsheet about that one: Paul Sinha x2, Chris Addison, Bridget Christie, Claudia O’Doherty, Mark Steel, John Lloyd, John Robins, Tom Ballard, Jo Brand, Alice Fraser, Hari Kondabolu, Michael Legge), have thoughts about all of them but have only written a post about one so far, am having trouble putting my thoughts about some of the others into words. I keep finding those thoughts changing after each episode, so I’m waiting a bit to put them together. Might put those together into some larger post, if I figure how to say what I want to, which may or may not happen. But I will say I’m really enjoying it and I’m glad I got back into it and it’s probably just as well that I took a break from it because I’m getting more out of it now than I would have last year, now that I’ve seen so much more stand-up.

#Youtube

[ghosttownwherenoonegoes]

This is a vent, feel free to ignore me.

I randomly started thinking about gatekeepers in this fandom and it pissed me off all over again.

Why do some people think they get to dictate who is and isn't a metalhead? Do they not realize that that kind of hostility towards newbies in both the Eddie Munson fandom and newbies to metal music in general is what ultimately kills a fandom because it drives away new activity? Or do they want this fandom to die out because new people are getting turned away? Do they really need to feel that superior to someone?

And the irony is: if you're actually GENUINELY a fan of something you WANT AS MANY PEOPLE TO KNOW ABOUT IT AS POSSIBLE!

If you *genuinely* love metal music you're gonna be sending song and artist and playlist recs to anyone who will listen.

A *lot* of people - especially young people - got interested in metal music after/because of Eddie, and who the fuck cares?

I first heard metal music because of School of Rock.

At this point I think the only thing that will satisfy these fucking buzzkill gatekeepers (which, do they also not realize that they're the type of metalheads that the rest of us FUCKING HATE) is if you were born ON STAGE at a fucking METALLICA concert.

ONLY THEN CAN YOU CLAIM TO BE A "TRUE" METALHEAD!

Gatekeepers just move the goal post every time you get close enough that they can no longer gatekeep, so even being born at a metal concert or even being conceived at one wouldn’t satisfy them! They just wanna make others miserable because they have no joy in their lives other than bringing others down, which is reaaaally sad and telling about the kind of people they are. Because you’re right! Who cares how you got into something??? You’re into it? Great, wonderful, share it, spread it!!!! Enjoy yourself!!! The rest of us do!!💖💖💖You’re so right!!! I agree with everything you’ve said here! I don’t really have much to add beyond the fact that it makes me angry as well.

ALSO ALSO, do they realise that not only are they the types of metalheads that the rest of us hate, but also Eddie himself would hate metalheads who gatekeep!!! That’s literally the very thing he stands against.

“Oh, I love Eddie and metal so much BUT IF YOU DON’T DO IT THIS WAY - “ congrats, Eddie would hate you!!!🙃🙃🙃🙃

School of Rock is such a kickass film!!! So many important messages in it. Eddie would love that film so much, and the soundtrack!! He’d have thrived with a teacher like that!💞

(To be fair, I haven’t seen any gatekeeping on my dash, I only see others talking about it, so I suppose I follow different people or something, or it just goes over my head because if I even vaguely disagree with something, I just eye roll and scroll past without reading the rest of it😅)

[thecrazylady10]

Tw venting pr*o*shi*pping

Fucking hate it when ppl are like "if you're not with us you're the enemy" no im not playing your fucking game of black and white

Fiction can influence but only those impressionable. To censor everything and be a purist fuck is no way to live and definitely no way to handle shit. And yes people do need to be careful on certain things but also ppl need to realize if you are a fucking minor who makes a "callout post" using someones PRIVATE and specific NSFW blog as a "gotcha" you need to get off the fucking internet and touch grass.

Let me state since some people are too deadbrained for nuance: i hate p*dos i hate ince*st i feel uncomfortable with abuse and ESPECIALLY like none of these IN THE REAL WORLD REAL LIFE

In fiction? As long as its tagged i dont care bc i can block those and avoid those and if people wanna show me i tell them "no" at best and block them at worst

Wanna talk immature? How about not fucking communicating with me abkut being uncomfortable and tell me straight up to stop? I get that if i am being intimidating ok im sorry but i also am honest, i even fucking state "if i overstep a bound LET ME KNOW"

I guess none of that matters when someone is so stuck in seeking violence using a "just cause" for being stupid and Irrational.

Regardless. This proshit and antishit is all a bunch of terminally online garbage and i hope one day people can move from this "us vs them" mentally and face the facts that "just because im on your side doesn't mean i have to act like you and go on holy crusades to destroy the impure heritics"

And if anyone knew the context for this like vent/vague post they would laugh at the irony why i had to make this

#fuckin hell #teach my ass to be nice and courteous #i will admit i was being careless but DAMN i fucking said i get distracted and even told them if i was being inappropriate #in a server about a series that is very fucking inappropriate for minors to begin with. should've been my red flag but eh im a moron #wont do that shit twice lmao #vent #rant #sorry you had to uh see this. plz ignore

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 4)

i hope yall enjoyed the last part, we took a sudden and quite dirty turn ther,e but we are heading down romantic street and its all sweet and cute with a little hotness. let me know what you thought about the part!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 4.7k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Harry Styles managed to leave quite the impression in you following his late night visit after the Emmys. He surely surprised you with not only the unbelievable orgasm he gave you with his talented fingers, but also with how big of a gentleman he really was, so keen on taking you out on a date first before he would kiss you. The timeline got a little messed up and he did apologize before he left at two in the morning for getting too carried away, but you assured him he didn’t do anything you didn’t want him to. To be honest, you wouldn’t have had a word against him kissing you right away, but you liked the respect he had for you, not something you’ve had plenty of lately. The men you dealt with in the past year were eager to get into your pants without the respect part, only hungry to earn fame through you, trying to blind you with sex so you wouldn’t realize their ugly motives.

This was not a threat when it came to Harry, he was just as famous as you, maybe even more. He had his own career, his own money, his own life apart from yours and he clearly wasn’t trying to use you and it was quite a refreshing change for you.

He stayed and the two of you talked so much, just sharing crazy stories from your life before and after fame, enjoying that you had someone who shared more or less the same background as you. Apart from Florence, you pretty much kept your old friends when your career took off, afraid to make new ones, always feeling a little paranoid that new people would have unholy motives when they try to befriend you.

Though you truly love your friends, they don’t really see behind the life you are living, while Harry completely does. His company is the best you’ve had in a long time, he is able to make you completely forget about everything outside the room you two are in.

You tried your best to hide your disappointment when he left that night. After offering him to stay in one of your guest bedrooms, he politely turned it down, and even though you could tell he wanted to stay, the urge to be a gentleman was greater in him, something you admire him for.

He left with the promise to see you soon on a real date and he got you as excited as a little school girl on the day of a fieldtrip.

However, given the lifestyles you two were living, finding a suitable evening for the both of you turns out to be a bigger struggle than you expected. Harry reaches out right the next day after his little visit. A good morning text waits for you by the time you open your eyes in the noon and by the evening he asks you out, however you have to realize the date has to wait a little.

You have two trip outside the city upcoming in the next two weeks and he is also planning to fly back to London for a while, the trips totally crashing in the timeline, not even having just the smallest window that would fit the both of you.

Accepting the fact that it would have to wait a little longer, you keep in close touch, eager to find the date that would finally be suitable for you and him as well. Endless texts, sweet calls and sneaky FaceTimes scatter through the days you spend apart and you find it hard to think of a time when he wasn’t hitting you up all the time.

On a Thursday evening, after a long day of fittings for upcoming events, you find yourself sitting on your couch with a sweet glass of wine, scrolling through your social media feeds when something catches your eyes.

Harry has been away in Los Angeles in the past few days and he mentioned having an interview the other day, but you didn’t think it would be out so soon, but here it was, a short video clip cut out by some random page that had a rather interesting title.

“Harry Styles talks about next album and mystery girl in his life.”

Your curiosity is way too strong not to click on it and have a look at it, so taking a sip from your wine you tap on the link and let the video load.

“It’s been some time since your last album came out, have you been working on new music lately?” the interviewer asked from behind the camera as Harry sat on a lilac sofa, wearing black high-waisted pants with a pink and white floral printed shirt tugged into it, his suspenders topping the look perfectly. His green eyes are fixed on the person asking him as he nods.

“Yeah, I think I never really stop making new music. I do have sessions when I’m trying to put a new album together, but I also write in the meantime as well, whenever I have an idea or inspiration. I don’t hold back,” he adds with a cheeky smile.

“Have you found any inspiration lately?” the question is heard and Harry nods once again.

“I have, actually,” he answers shortly, but his smirk gives it away that there’s a lot more behind his words and you feel your heart flutter in your chest. Is he talking about you?

“Has it been a person?” the reporter inquires, making Harry’s smile grow wider.

“A lot of things and people inspire me.”

“Alright, and is your latest inspiration something or someone new in your life?” the guy tries again, even though it’s well known that Harry likes to give vague answers instead of straight yeses and nos.

“Kind of new,” he simply answers and the reporter realizes he won’t be sharing more about the topic so he moves on with the next question and the video cuts out right there.

Though it wasn’t mentioned that he was talking about someone in particular, his fans drew the assumption that he is definitely seeing someone who has been his inspiration behind his new music. Feeling bold and a little flirty, you open up your messages and send him a quick text.

“A kind of new inspiration, huh?”

His reply comes almost right away, as always.

“Have you been stalking fanpages about me?”

“Would it be weird?”

“From you? It’s flattering. Little scary, but in a good way.”

You can’t help but chuckle reading his words. He never fails to make you laugh, you find his humor your favorite kind, never hurtful, but a little spicy, if you could say that, a lot of irony laced into it.

“Back to the topic: what’s your inspiration? Or should I ask… who is your inspiration?”

“Not gonna beat around the bush and just admit it…”

You wait and wait… and wait, but nothing comes afterwards and you are dying to have him admit that it’s been you, but not even the three dots appear at the bottom, so you take the lead again.

“Well, do it. Admit it, Styles!”

The fucker likes your message right away, meaning he has been in the thread all along, waiting for you to write something.

“Alright, but don’t tell anyone, because she is kinda famous and I don’t want the media to find out about it.”

“You have my silence.”

You watch the three dots dance at the bottom, holding your breath while you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, trying to contain your wide grin that’s been plastered across your face this whole time.

When the text finally arrives you snort loudly, almost spilling your wine, laughing so hard you are happy you don’t like in a tiny apartment anymore with paper walls, because your neighbor would have definitely heard your laughter all the way down the hallway.

“It’s Betty White. Fuck, she is all I can think about.”

You need a minute to stop the laughter and type your reply.

“She is hot, gotta give you that.”

“Right?? I hope she is not afraid to date younger guys though.”

“I’m sure she would make an exception for you.”

“I hope so too.”

There’s a short pause, where you just read back his lines, chuckling to yourself some more. He always has a witty comment or comeback, no matter what you’re talking about and not once has he made you laugh madly on a set, at a meeting or just lying in bed before going to sleep.

“Joke aside, would it scare you away if I said I have definitely written about you?”

“Is this another theoretical question? Like the one you asked me on Ellen?”

You smile to yourself thinking back at the conversation the two of you had on the show when he was trying to figure out if you’d be up to give him your number.

“Maybe. So theoretically, would that be weird to you?”

“No,” you write, but quickly send another text. “But you know, it’s just theory. You’d have to tell me for real to find out.”

“Should have saw that coming…”

“Yeah, you really should have,” you muse to yourself, finishing up your glass and you carefully put it to your coffee table before sliding further down on the couch to get back to the conversation with Harry. You see that he hasn’t sent anything after his last one, so you decide to actually answer his question.

“Joke aside from my part, I wouldn’t find it weird. I think it’s flattering.”

“Okay, because I was ready to burn all my notes if you said it would be too much.”

“What if you’d be burning a Grammy worthy song though?”

“Would be a shame. But I would still burn it for you.”

“You are such a flirt…”

“Can’t help it! Or should I not be?”

“I like it. So don’t change.”

“Noted.”

Your little conversation has to come to an end since he is about to go into a meeting, but when you say your goodbyes and decide it’s time to head to bed, you already know a text will be waiting for you when you wake up in the morning.

Days and even weeks go by and you start to have a little too much on your plate. No matter how much you love your job and that it has always been your dream, sometimes you just need a breather. In the past week you’ve been in and out of auditions for a movie they keep top secret, you didn’t even get a script, just a few pages you had to memorize and they’ve been asking for more and more tapes from you with kind of absurd requests, but your agent told you it’s something major, that’s why they are so secretive. However, when they ask you to come in for another reading for the fifth time in seven days and you still don’t know what you are really auditioning for, you are kind of starting to have enough with all your other projects running at the same time. Your days start at six in the morning and rarely end before eleven in the night.

An entire month after the night Harry came over to your place, you kind of lose patience. The frustration that’s been building up inside you just simply bursts when your agent texts you on your way home that you’d have to go in for another casting in the morning for the same mystery movie.

“Have they not seen my face enough?” you snap, hands meeting the wheel as you keep your eyes on the road ahead of you.

“I’m sorry, Hun. I know it’s annoying, but they requested you, that means you are still an option for them.” Mona’s voice comes through the speakers of the car since your phone is connected to it.

“Do they need me to read the whole fucking Bible in front of a camera or what?” you growl.

“I have a good feeling about this last one, alright? And if they still can’t decide after that, we can always just say that we want out.”

“Then I would be labelled as the problematic little princess,” you sigh, knowing well how this industry works. Just one mistake and you can easily end up in a theoretical ditch.

“Just hold on a little longer, okay? I’ll send you the details in email and we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Bye, girl.”

Mona is an angel. She’s been your agent for about five years now, she is the one who gets you into castings, well, at least that’s what she was doing before you managed to reach your breakthrough. She got your name on lists you couldn’t even dare to dream of and she is the reason why you are here today. Now she mostly handles requests for you to go in for castings, creators started to reach out to you a while ago, though Mona still works her magic sometimes to get you into castings that are still out of your league.

By the time you get home, you are desperate to do something. Anything. You’ve been nonstop working these past weeks and you just need to get out of this loop that sucked you in. Before you could even think through what you’re doing, you dial Harry’s number.

He is back in the city, that you know of because he texted even before he got home. You both ditched the idea of having your date today, because you just knew it would be a long day for you, and it’s the truth, it’s past ten, so not quite ideal for a date, but you ran out of fucks to give.

“Y/N? Everything alright?” he asks, noticing that you called, which is not what you usually do, or at least not without checking in if he is free to talk.

“Yeah, sorry I called so randomly. Are you busy?” you ask, feeling a little out of breath, even though you definitely didn’t do anything physically hard. You just can’t help but feel anxious since you are about to ask him out on a spontaneous date.

“No, just… packing and all that. What’s up?”

“So you don’t have anything to do right now?” you clear up.

“No,” he chuckles.

“Alright, so then… what do you say we have that date now?”

Even with him always being so blunt and open about how interested he is in you, it still makes you perfect to ask him out. The silence that comes from his side doesn’t necessarily help either and you are already preparing yourself to get rejected.

“You know it’s ten pm, right?” he then asks, a little unsure if you really thought it through.

“I am aware, yes.”

“Don’t you have work in the morning? I know you always start your days so early, I don’t want to be the reason why yo—“

“Harry,” you stop him midsentence. “I do not give a fuck about what I’m doing in the morning,” you bluntly tell him and you can tell he is smiling on the other end of the call. “So the question is still the same. Do you want to have that date now?”

He doesn’t ask anything else, just simply say the following: “I’ll pick you up in thirty.”

“Make it twenty,” you tell him and end the call before he could protest.

Ignoring the adrenaline rush you that just washed over your body you quickly make your way to the bathroom to take the quickest cold shower before putting on some clean clothes. You really don’t want to overdo it, knowing well since it’s so abrupt he wouldn’t be taking you anywhere that would require you look spotless. You choose not to put on any makeup, not just because you don’t have the time, but also because you feel a weird urge to just be bare, be yourself around him. The same goes for your outfit. You put aside all designer clothes and opt for a simple pair of jeans, a black tank top and a bright yellow knitted jumper over it, looking awfully casual, but feeling rather comfortable.

It takes Harry 22 minutes to get to your place, but you choose not to comment on those two extra minutes when you get into his car. Luckily, he isn’t dressed to impress either, wearing a simple pair of jeans with some kind of washed out, vintage printed tee shirt with his Bode Jacket he has worn in his famous SNL episode. His hair looks a little mess and even wet, making you wonder if your call caught him in the middle of a shower or he showered after you agreed to meet up.

“Long time no see,” he smiles at you, his boyish smirk making your heart flutter so easily as he eyes you while you buckle yourself up.

“You had plenty of paparazzi photos to look at in the meantime, Mr. Styles,” you smirk at him teasingly as he starts the car and leaves from in front of your complex.

“My favorite was the ones of you where you were walking out of a restaurant wearing that silk dress and the coat.”

“So you did see pap pictures?” you ask chuckling, you didn’t mean it entirely, but you find it funny that he actually saw pictures of you.

“You know, it’s been hard to avoid you online, especially because I keep liking all your posts so my phone thinks I’m interested in you. Which is true, and I’m not complaining about the content I’ve been seeing about you lately,” he admits chuckling and your eyes wander down to his ring clad fingers on the wheel. Your thoughts take you back to when they were touching you at places you haven’t been touched in a while. How they felt inside you and how desperate he could make you with just his hands.

You force yourself to look away from his hands and focus on the present time before your arousal becomes way too evident.

“Sorry I’m everywhere,” you smirk at him, enjoying the situation maybe a little too much.

“Don’t be,” he chuckles, glancing in your way for a moment, his green eyes meeting your gaze. “I don’t mind it,” he adds and those damn butterflies as quick to act up again in your stomach.

You don’t try to get him to tell where you are headed, wanting it to be a surprise yourself, so you just stare out at the night city as it runs past you, still quite a lot of people walking on the streets even though it’s now nearing eleven.

What you know is that you’re still in Manhattan and it seems like you won’t leave it either. Harry navigates his way through the city easily, he is not even using GPS, something you could never do. No matter how long you’ve been living here, you’ll always get lost in this jungle some call New York City. About fifteen minutes after leaving your complex, Harry parks the car down in a spot he found along the road, and looking out the window you’re trying to figure out where you are, but it doesn’t ring a bell. Seems just like a usual part of the Upper West Side, so now he has you curious about his plans.

“Where did you bring me, Mr. Styles?” you ask him as the two of you meet on the sidewalk and he glances at your with a sly smirk.

“Since you gave me such a short notice about our date, I thought I would show you one of my favorite places in the city and I hope you haven’t it.” “Well, I can assure you I don’t know it, because I have no idea what could be here,” you admit.

Harry nods at you to follow him and you walk side by side until the next corner.

“I think you already know that I’m English,” he starts off, making you chuckle.

“Yeah, it’s pretty evident,” you nod.

“So, in the past decade I haven’t spent as much time in the UK as I wanted, and a few years ago I discovered a little piece of my home in the city.”

Trying to figure out what he meant by that you don’t even realize where you just took a turn to. Harry stops and you snap out of your thoughts, looking up and seeing a charming little street ahead you, looking totally out of place in the city’s fashion. The townhouses all the way down look like they’ve been placed here straight from England, the Tudor style complex is a refreshing change in the fast paced, busy streets of Manhattan.

You can’t help but gasp at the sight in front of you, taking in every tiny detail with your eager eyes as the feeling of being in a fairytale takes over your mind. If only it weren’t for the busy noises of the streets around the micro-neighborhood, you would completely believe that you’ve been magically teleported to England.

“It’s called the Pomander Walk. Always makes me feel like I’m home away from home whenever I miss my family and my hometown.”

Harry starts walking down the narrow pavement that runs between the houses, lined with quite some greenery, something you noticed right away. There are just so many plants and flowers down the street, it’s pretty clear the residents keep them in good care.

You catch up with Harry, eyes still taking in the pleasant contrast Pomander Walk has to offer for any visitors.

“I feel like we are invaders,” you tell him. It looks so secluded, makes you feel like you weren’t even supposed to be here.

“Don’t worry, it’s totally public. The people who live here are pretty nice too. Love it when someone comes around.”

“How did you find this place?”

“A friend told me about it and just came to see it for myself one day,” he tells you as the two of you slowly make your way down the street, slow enough so you could see everything. “There are 61 units and they were built in 1921 by Thomas J. Healy. He originally wanted to build a hotel here, but didn’t have the money to just yet, so he built these instead to make some cash for the hotel. He never got to do that though, died a few years later, so Pomander Walk stayed.” You listen to him, soaking in every word that leaves his lips, finding his oddly specific knowledge about this place quite exciting and… kinda hot. You could listen to him talk about historical facts for days without getting bored.

“The whole complex was renovated in 2009, they restored a bunch of architectural details that lost through the years.”

“Looks fantastic. I wonder what they look like on the inside,” you muse, your eyes wandering over the colorfully painted old school window blinds on most of the townhouses.

Walking down the pavement you realize there’s not a single soul around here, something you don’t get to experience too often in the city.

“It’s not too well-known, right? I don’t see any tourists and all that.”

Harry shakes his head, eyes ahead of him as he hides his hands in his pockets.

“No, ‘s quite hidden, not often listed in sights to be seen in the city. That’s why I like to come here so much.”

“Easy to stay unnoticed,” you add with a smile as your eyes meet his gaze and he nods, returning the smile.

You walk back and forth on the street at least five times, just talking and sharing and laughing, finally falling out of the misery of your everydays. He still amazes you with how good of a company he is, with his broad view of life and many experiences, you can truly connect with him on a level you haven’t been able to reach with anyone in a long time.

It’s way over midnight when you head back to his car, holding hands that happened at a point earlier, but you can’t tell who reached for who. It was kind of mutual, but now you didn’t want to let go of him… ever. You let your fingers play with his S ring on his pinky while he keeps running his thumb over the back of your hand whenever he has the chance. It’s a little disappointing when you have to let go of each other when you climb back into his car and head back home.

“I know this date wasn’t much, but I hope you liked it,” he smiles at you shyly before his eyes snap back at the road ahead of him.

“Shut up, this was literally the best date I’ve had,” you tell him making him chuckle. “Thank you for showing it to me.”

“Now it’s your secret place too. Maybe we’ll run into each other here one day.”

“I’ll definitely come back,” you admit smirking.

The city lights pass by you faster than you want them to, and you arrive to your complex way too early. Well, not according to the time, because it’s way past half past midnight now, but you just don’t want the night to end. However, you know Harry would not come up if you asked. He is way too big of a gentleman and he wouldn’t want to make you miss your appointment in the morning, but you are definitely collecting that kiss he promised a month or so ago.

“Walk me up, will you?” you ask him softly when he parks down in front of your building. He nods and follows you inside without a second thought.

You both know it’s about to happen, the air thickens between you two in the elevator and neither of you can hold back the small smiles on your lips. Harry walks next to you until you reach your front door and you turn to face him, his green eyes already examining your every move.

“I’m happy we finally got to do this,” you tell him, feeling a blush warming your cheeks from the way he looks at you now.

“I’m glad you called. Was starting to think we would never meet again,” he chuckles making you laugh as well. It really did feel like the universe was plotting against you, but you bet it didn’t expect your sudden move tonight.

There’s a longer pause where neither of you knows what to say or do next and your patience is running low, especially when you see him run his tongue over his pink lips. You just can’t wait any longer to taste them.

“Harry,” you breathe out, the frustration and desire at an all-time high now in your system. Never in your life did it take this long for you to get to a kiss with a guy you were clearly interested in and who returned the feeling as well.

“Yeah?”

“Swear to my lost Emmy Award if you don’t kiss me right now I’ll—“

You don’t get to finish, you don’t even know what you’d have said, but it’s all forgotten when Harry kisses you hard, hands cupping your jaw on both sides, angling your head to grant him the best access to your lips. You return the kiss without a second thought, hungrily tugging and pulling on his lips, your tongues meeting in the middle and fuck! He really knows how to make your toes curl with just a kiss. You grab a fistful of his t-shirt at his stomach, pulling him close and the cold touch of his rings on your skin makes you shudder. Everything about him makes your legs turn into jelly and you are willingly offering yourself to him without a doubt.

He pushes you against your front door, one of his hands wanders down to your waist and he gives it a gentle squeeze that makes you open your mouth more for him. You are a mess and so is he. You have no idea how long you make out, but when you eventually pull back, your chest is heaving and your lips feel swollen. Harry pecks your lips two more times before forcing himself to let go of you.

“Good night, Y/N,” he murmurs in a low voice as he starts to back towards the elevator.

“Good night, Harry,” you say a little out of breath. He smirks at you one last time before walking into the elevator and the doors close, officially ending your first date.

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#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles never have i ever #never have i ever #harry styles never have i ever series #never have i ever series #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x actress!reader #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

Gabriel Agreste: Interesting Villain, Horrible Character (400 Follower Special)

I'm honestly surprised more people didn't want me to talk about Gabriel, especially with how often I rag on how horrible of a person he is. But, three character analysis posts later, and we're going to talk about why the main villain of Miraculous Ladybug is a real letdown.

Gabriel Needs to give the Whining a Rest

The interesting thing is one of the few things I actually liked in Season 3 was Hawkmoth. His plans actually made sense (for the most part), and by playing the long game, he managed to turn Chloe against Ladybug and deprived her of several key allies. Granted, Season 4 immediately undid the latter, but I was still impressed by his strategy.

Generally, one of the better aspects of Gabriel as a character was just how over the top he was as Hawkmoth. Keith Silverstein is clearly giving it his all with his performance, and he is just so enjoyable to watch as a cartoonish supervillain.

And therein lies the first major problem with Gabriel as a character. While he is fun to watch as a simple supervillain, the show tries to give him more depth and unintentionally makes him worse.

In Season 2, when it was revealed that Gabriel was Hawkmoth, many fans speculated on what he needed the Miraculous for, until the Queen Bee Trilogy showed it was to save his possibly dead wife, Emilie. The idea of that is so the show can give more depth to its main villain, and I think it's an interesting idea in concept. After all, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.

The problem is just how radically different Gabriel is normally compared to how he is as Hawkmoth. He always goes on about how he's “doing this for Emilie”, but it's hard to really sympathize with him when you consider he constantly gives evil monologues and evil laughs, really getting into the supervillain role. And let's not forget all of the “I'm going to wear Ladybug's skin as a suit” faces he loves to make.

Clearly this man is the picture of mental stability.

Gabriel's motivation for being Hawkmoth when compared to what he actually does as Hawkmoth is shady enough, but the thing is that the writers clearly want the audience to at least feel a little bad for him. They want to make the audience sympathize with him despite the way he acts with or without the mask. Without Miraculous Ladybug, he is routinely putting innocent lives in danger and never once shows regret for his actions. All he talks about is how “he's doing this for Emilie”, or that “he'll get their Miraculous soon”. There's no real reason to feel bad for him other than “because the script says so”.

Let's compare Gabriel to Malcolm Merlyn from Arrow. His big plan in the first season of the show is to create a machine that will cause an earthquake to destroy a crime-infested portion of Starling City, claiming to be trying to help everyone, but it's clear he is only doing it out of revenge for his wife getting killed by a criminal from that part of the city. In addition, throughout that season and future seasons, he always makes sure his plans lead to him benefiting in some way, showing he isn't just some noble man trying to achieve his goals with a less than noble method.

If we got some moments that showed that what Gabriel was doing was selfish, it would make him a more complex villain. But we don't get anything like that. What do we get instead? Well...

I Could Really Care Less About Emilie Agreste

We have known Gabriel's motivation has been to save his wife for a little over two years at this point, but at the same time, it's hard to believe that motivation because of how underdeveloped Emilie is as a character.

There have been a total of two lines in the entirety of the show that explain what happened to Emilie, and they're both vague as hell. One of them was from “Feast” that implied Emilie used the broken Peacock Miraculous.

Adrien: My mom used to have dizzy spells… just like Nathalie.

And the other that outright tells the audience what's happening to her in a clip show that most people will skip.

Nathalie: As I've watched Emilie falling deeper into an endless sleep, my sadness for her has deepened, too

That is literally all we get for an explanation, and nothing else. We have no idea of what she's like as a person or what her relationship with her family was like other than Gabriel and Adrien saying they miss her. Other than the way the narrative says she's important to Gabriel and Adrien, we don't really have a reason to care about her as a character. There have also been some lines that imply she went along with Gabriel's questionable parenting techniques, like how he was apparently only homeschooled as a kid (Origins) and never had a birthday party growing up (The Bubbler), so how do we even know if she's a good person? In fact, why not set up this question as a mystery to make the audience wonder if Gabriel has another reason to bring Emilie back?

It ultimately turns Emilie into a plot device and not a character that Gabriel and Adrien only bring up to make the audience feel bad for them, and meant to justify Gabriel's actions by saying that he's “doing this for his family”.

But hey, if he's doing this all for his family, surely Gabriel's redeeming traits come from his relationship with Adrien, right? Right?

As a Parent, Gabriel is Far From the Best

I've talked about this briefly before, but parenting in Miraculous Ladybug is written in such a black and white way, even by the standards of this show. Parents are portrayed in one of two ways. They're either amazing people who love and support their children unconditionally, or they're awful people who treat their own children like trash. And much like a lot of things in this show, there are times where the latter is treated like the former.

There are so many times where the narrative insists on making you see Gabriel as a troubled, but wellmeaning person who tries his best to be a good parent to Adrien, but it is far from the truth.

I'm not going to beat around the bush. Gabriel is a terrible parent. Like, he is awful at being a parent in so many ways, even before you find out he's Hawkmoth. In his first appearance, “The Bubbler”, he delegates getting Adrien a birthday present to Nathalie, his assistant. He literally can't be bothered to take time out of his schedule to get his own son a present for his birthday. And as the show goes on, he becomes more controlling and forbids Adrien from going out with his friends in other episodes (Captain Hardrock, Silencer). While this could be used to show Gabriel getting worse, it's never acknowledged in-universe, with Adrien continually defending his father essentially keeping him on house arrest.

“But IOTA!” You might say. “Gabriel has made efforts to bond with his son in some episodes.” While that might be true, most of those come right after his Akumas have almost gotten Adrien killed. He only hugged Adrien and made an attempt to learn more about him after Simon Says invaded their home, he only decided to watch that movie Emilie was in with Adrien after Gorizilla nearly dropped him off a building, and he only hugged Adrien again in public after he was turned into a gold statue by Style Queen.

In fact, let's talk about how Gabriel acts in the Queen Bee Trilogy. He actually decides to quit being Hawkmoth, but it's not because he realizes all the damage he's caused. Instead, he gave up because his “magnum opus”, a stronger than usual Akuma that only got the advantage on Ladybug ironically because of dumb luck, failed. Sure, he says he can't keep putting his son in danger, but he rarely ever acknowledges that he does so in the first place. When Riposte wanted to fight Adrien, Hawkmoth did nothing to stop her other than giving her a stern warning earlier on and nothing else. Where was this attitude earlier?

Hell, even then, he immediately goes back to being Hawkmoth as soon as he sees an opportunity, not even a day after his “mAgNuM oPuS” blew up in his face (because I guess Scarletmoth was just Plan B). If he made such a big deal about caring for his son, why didn't he try harder to spend time with him? Has he ever had doubts about what he's doing before? If Chloe didn't show up as Queen Bee, was he going to follow through on his promise and try to be a better father to Adrien instead of trying to get Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous?

And yeah, the whole irony is that Gabriel is doing this for his family when he is unknowingly fighting his own son, which could lead to some interesting drama if done right. The idea of how Gabriel would react to his son being Cat Noir could really lead to some internal struggles for him to go through. But then we got “Cat Blanc”, which shows just how terrible of a character Gabriel is.

In an alternate timeline where he found out his son was Cat Noir, what does Gabriel do? Does he try to steal Adrien's Miraculous while he's sleeping? Does he reconsider his actions or realize he was endangering Adrien's life?

NOPE! He just decides to akumatize him all while emotionally tormenting him, before causing the end of the world.

This is honestly one of the most appalling things I've ever seen in any TV show, because it's basically an abusive father ordering his son to listen to him all while referencing his (kind of) dead mother to back up his point. And rather than use this to show how despicable Gabriel is, the episode decides to blame Marinette for this happening. Yes, according to the show, her present to Adrien caused several events to happen which caused Cat Blanc, but this logic makes no sense. It's like blaming the JFK assassination on the man who sold a gun to Lee Harvey Oswald, instead of, you know, Lee Harvey Oswald.

Not only was this episode yet another excuse to blame Marinette for something that wasn't her fault, it leads into the biggest problem I have with Gabriel as a character.

Sympathize with Gabriel? Surely, You Jest

After everything I've gone over regarding Gabriel as a character, after all the awful things I've talked about, are you really surprised that I don't feel bad for him at all?

Gabriel is just an awful character and a despicable human being, but the show just keeps wanting me to feel bad for him. It's just so hard to when you consider everything he's done has made him anything but sympathetic. I'm just saying, it's kind of hard to feel bad for someone who tries to start World War III with the only justification being “i'M dOiNg It FoR mY fAmIlY”, especially when he treats his family like crap.

The writers go out of their way to show how horrible Gabriel is as Hawkmoth/Shadowmoth, but they think because they throw in a few moments where he looks conflicted, we'll immediately feel bad for him. What makes so many people interested in seeing Chloe become a better person is that they can tell she's the victim of a troubled upbringing, and know that because she's only a teenager, she still has room to grow as a person, represented by having more honest moments of vulnerability. Gabriel is a grown man who once caused the apocalypse because of how terrible of a parent he is, and has even fewer sympathetic moments than Chloe does. Which one of these two is supposedly irredeemable? The answer may surprise you.

But the frustrating thing is that this kind of villain could have worked. Instead of making him this mustache-twirling psychopath, show how much Gabriel regrets what he has to do, but keeps pushing onward despite all the lives he's risking if it means that he can save his wife. Instead of making Gabriel like Lex Luthor, make him like Mr. Freeze, who is basic a better written version of him.

But as it stands, there's a good reason why Gabriel gets little to no respect as a character in the Miraculous Ladybug fandom, as a villain, or as a father.

#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug salt #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #hawk moth #shadowmoth #shadow moth #emilie agreste #adrien agreste #cat noir #chat noir #cat blanc #chat blanc #nathalie sancoeur #mayura #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 20: Nattduksbord

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

This means something; Mulder can feel it.

This signifies a shift in their relationship; a step forward, from platonic partners to a romantic couple. It’s a shared experience that has the potential to change their dynamic forever. Years of trust, fighting together against a common enemy, seeking the truth… it could all come crashing down today, in a shopping mall in Woodbridge, Virginia.

They’re going to IKEA.

Summer is on the rise, and the humidity is close to stifling as they buckle into his car. Scully’s wearing a little striped t-shirt, capri pants, and sandals, revealing sky blue painted toes. For a disorienting moment Mulder wonders if he’s going to develop a foot fetish. Probably not, but Dana Scully could make even the most vanilla of men want to do crazy things.

“Do you have your shopping list?” Scully asks as he starts the car.

He pulls the folded scrap of paper out of the chest pocket of his white t-shirt. “Right here,” he replies, eyes darting over to her for one more look as he holds out the list.

She takes it, catching his eyes momentarily. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?” she asks.

I want to suck your toes. “You look nice today, that’s all.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.”

Scully can probably tell he’s desperate for her; she can read him like a dog-eared, yellowed paperback. He’s simultaneously grateful for her sharp instincts and embarrassed by his carnal desires. He hasn’t gotten laid in four years, and he fears he’ll be too eager when the time comes. As it is, he can barely believe she’s let him have even the smallest glimpses of her as a sexual being. She’s intoxicating, and he’s dizzy with the knowledge that this beautiful, brilliant, downright edible woman actually wants him. Him, a mortal man of aliens and bad ties and a porn collection that’s gradually becoming least seventy-five percent redheads. A man without a bed.

Hence their Saturday morning pilgrimage to the shrine where all new couples journey to find furnishings, low prices, and themselves.

“So, we’re looking for one tall bookshelf, a locking filing cabinet, a bed, and two night tables,” Scully reads. She refolds the paper and reaches across him to tuck it back into his shirt pocket. “That’s clearly not all going to fit in this car,” she notes.

“I’ll get the bigger stuff delivered,” he says.

It’s only a twenty minute drive from Mulder’s place, and they have the air-conditioning on. Mulder is starting to relax; it’s been a long time since he’s had a partner, in the domestic sense, and he’d forgotten that it makes the mundane more bearable.

Scully clears her throat almost imperceptibly. “I’m proud of you, by the way.”

“Really? Why?” Mulder asks.

“You managed to get rid of a lot of stuff,” she says, turning up the dial on the car’s air conditioner. “And organization is very clearly not your strong suit, so progress should be acknowledged and celebrated.”

“Yippee,” Mulder deadpans.

“You know, it’s odd; we’ve known each other for all these years and I never asked… why don’t you have a bed, Mulder?”

There it is, the question he knew would come up at some point. He clears his throat, grips the steering wheel a little tighter. “I, uh… I lived with someone, around ‘91. Another agent, actually. We were together for a while, and then one day she took some assignment in Europe and that was that. I got rid of everything that was hers, and that, uh, included the bed.” Technically our bed, he thinks. He winces. He’s never talked to Scully about Diana before, and he wonders if she’ll be upset that he was withholding such a large piece of personal information.

Scully is quiet. “I’m sorry,” she says softly. “That’s… I didn’t know.”

“I’m sorry I never mentioned it,” Mulder says. “It’s not like it’s some big painful secret. I just… don’t really think about her anymore.”

“It’s alright,” Scully says. “I think it’s best for these kinds of things to come up naturally. And… I was dating someone when we met,” Scully confesses. “We broke up as soon as I got back from Bellefleur.”

Mulder looks at her quickly. “Really? Why?”

She furrows her brow. “Multiple reasons, but primarily I realized that this job, my assignment, was bigger than I’d anticipated. And the things you and I went through together, the things I’d seen… when I was honest with myself, I didn’t want to be tied down to him. To have to go home and have this man ask me how my day was, as though he could ever understand even half of what we do.”

“So you chose the job over him,” Mulder muses.

“In essence… I chose you,” Scully points out. “Whether I knew it then or not. I’d never be able to turn my back on you.”

Mulder exhales slowly. He’s strangely moved.

“Take a left at the next light,” Scully prompts softly. “And yes, I do realize the irony in breaking things off with a man because of his normalcy, only to continue trying to date so-called ‘normal’ men.”

Mulder shrugs. “No, it makes sense. Maybe he just wasn’t right for you, but the next normal guy could be, right?”

“Right,” Scully sighs. “Einstein’s definition of insanity. Doing the same thing over and over again while expecting different results.”

“I’ve been led to believe that being with me is another type of insanity,” Mulder points out. “And objectively, I can’t disagree.”

“You do make me crazy,” Scully agrees, voice low. “But that’s not always a bad thing.” He feels her small hand squeeze his thigh. “And I fully intend to return the favor.”

Mulder lets out a quiet groan, hands sweaty on the steering wheel. “You planning on giving me some roadside assistance, Agent Scully? Because I’m gonna need it if you keep doing that.”

She removes her hand, tucks her hair behind her ear. “I didn’t do anything,” she says innocently.

“Uh huh.” He pulls into the IKEA parking lot. “Well, we’re here. You ready?”

“As ready as a person can be for a labyrinthian furniture store on a muggy Saturday,” she replies.

-

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Mulder says from his spot on the bedroom floor, surrounded by scattered pieces of a ‘HOLLEBY’ bedside table. “These instructions are useless and-” he flips through the booklet, “-thirty-two pages long, Jesus.”

Scully doesn’t respond; her eyes are glued to her own manual as she assembles a drawer from the second of the two nightstands. “Shh,” she hushes him softly. “I’m concentrating.”

“How have you managed to put any of these pieces together?” he asks, scooting across the floor to her. “There aren’t even words, just vague illustrations.”

She has a screw between her lips as she lines up two of the wood pieces. “I took wood shop in high school,” she says around the metal pin. She removes it and inserts it into a pre-drilled hole. “I guess that was some kind of preparation for assembling flatpack furniture?”

“That’s adorable,” Mulder says, rising to open a window. The room is stuffy with the day’s heat, and his t-shirt is glued to his back. “Do you still have any of the things you made in class?”

“The step stool in my kitchen,” she replies. “And my mom might have some things I’ve forgotten about.”

He casually strips off his sweaty t-shirt and tosses it in the laundry basket. “Remind me to look at that stool the next time we’re at your place,” he says. “Also I’m gonna order a pizza, you interested?”

Scully looks up at him then and is seemingly surprised by the absence of his shirt. “It’s hot in here,” Mulder explains, almost defensive.

“Oh, I’m not complaining,” Scully says, eyes shamelessly traveling his torso. “And I’m always interested.”

“Are we still talking about pizza here, or…”

“Make my half one with everything, please,” she says, attention returning to her project.

“Wait a minute,” he says, dropping to his knees next to her on the carpet. “I’m not done here.” He leans in and presses his mouth to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, tasting the salt on her skin. How she can still smell so good on a sticky June day, he doesn’t know; but he wants to lick her entire body.

“Mulder,” she sighs, putting down her screwdriver, “You’re distracting me.”

“That’s the idea,” he says, lips wandering up her neck and behind her ear. He flicks his tongue against her earlobe. “Forget the furniture, honey,” he says, all hot breath and lust. “We don’t need it for what I have in mind.”

Suddenly she’s facing him, looping her arms around his neck. “I’m doing this for you,” she purrs. “Do you think I like putting together IKEA furniture? No one likes it, Mulder. It’s like a multidimensional jigsaw puzzle.”

He pulls her onto his lap. “Oh, but I think you do,” he says, nibbling her ear. “You like being capable Doctor Scully, in charge of things… showing me what those hands can do.”

She leans in, licking his full lower lip. “Not everything is about you, Mulder,” she says, pressing a scorching kiss to his mouth. “I’m just doing my coworker a favor.”

“Is that what they call this nowadays?” he asks, hands clasping her hips as she grinds down on his lap.

She shuts him up with a kiss, the furniture and pizza forgotten.

#god this took me FOREVER #lol I’m busy freaking out over my second covid shot okay don’t @ me #my fic #fmcr #xfiles #txf fic #fox mulder closet romantic #msr #they go to ikea

[writing-in-april]

The Melody Lives On

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Seeing Spencer after so long apart makes past feelings come to the surface again.

A/N: Hey heyy 🥰 this is my third fic for my 1250 follower celebration!! It was based on a request that @imagining-in-the-margins passed along to me- if you want to see a photo of the original request it’ll be on the follower celebration Masterlist! It’s got vague references to the prison arc and is also inspired by Grey’s Anatomy 🥰 Thank you to @lexieshuntingsstuff for getting me back to realizing how much I love Grey’s 😊 Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy, and requests are open!

Warnings: Nothing I guess- unless vague references to the prison arc bother you

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.2k

“Dr. Y/L/N to conference room A please. Dr. Y/L/N to conference room A please. ” Came through the intercom. I was sitting in the hospital cafeteria munching on crackers while reading a book that I honestly wasn’t paying that much attention to because of how dead tired I was. I couldn’t stifle the groan that escaped me, I didn’t want my first break in what seemed like forever to be cut short.

Besides the fact that my bones and muscles ached I willed my body to move out of my chair despite it’s very prominent protests. There was a line of attending that led outside the conference room, I guess I had been the only one they had forgotten to get the memo out too.

Karev then came up behind me with just as much of a quizzical look on his face as mine and the rest of the attendings- I guess no one knew why we were here.

The only hint that the rest of us got to what was going on inside was when Arizona left the room and said it was some sort of FBI interrogation before she scurried off back towards peds.

As the line dwindled down to just me and Karev with Meredith in the room my mind started to wander to the person that I knew that happened to be in the FBI. Well- I guess I didn’t know him anymore, it had been a decade plus since I had seen him.

Of course said person that I happened to be thinking about happened to be in the room.

As soon as I saw his fluffy hair memories came flooding back. He looked so different now, more mature. But, I could clearly tell who it was; it was Spencer.

We had met just as I had been starting my first year of college. At first I had assumed he was the same, a freshman. Then I had learned that he was actually already on his second PHD- which had been in mathematics if my memory serves me well.

I had admittedly gawked at him at first like so many had done to him as well when they found out about his vast valleys of intellect that seemed to go on forever. When I had asked him to tutor me in my own mathematics course it was for the sole reason of bumping up the grade I had let slip. That was until I had gotten to know the sweet boy who was almost a man, though his baby face definitely did try to fight that fact. Guilt had immediately cropped up within me once I realized how much of a fool I was to not want to get to know him deeper than just the ‘child prodigy’ that everyone knew him as. He was one of the nicest people I had ever had the pleasure to come across, plus his bountiful knowledge made conversations with him extremely riveting to say the least. I remember apologizing to him profusely that first night, that was the first time I had gotten the chance to see the true extent of how sweet his kind eyes could be.

What had first been a simple somewhat feigned friendship to get a good tutor turned into the closest friendship that I had ever had. That close friendship had eventually turned into a romantic relationship one that in my opinion rivaled any of the great classic love stories.

Unfortunately, fate is rarely kind to lovers and what had once been sweet turned sour. It wasn’t any one of our faults, I knew that. But, my blossoming career as a surgeon led me to get an internship in Seattle while Spencer was led to the front steps of the FBI.

Every time I thought back on it I bitterly laughed at the irony of us both being led to Washington, though they were different ones that were on the other sides of the country. I had no animosity towards Spencer and the last time I saw him neither did he. But, the memories stung painfully when looking back on them. They stung even worse when I was faced with the sight of the man who had stolen my heart more than a decade ago and had yet to give it back.

His hair had grown out since I had last seen him, it now curled more around his ears and was much fluffier. The color of his soft curls would make anyone obsessed, mousy brown that shined a little bit of a burnt caramel when the tops of his curls hit the light. He had taken to letting his curls run wild which I had always liked to see when he would wash his hair of the gel he used to religiously put in.

A new addition along with his curls was the scruff he had begun to let grow out a little. When I knew him growing out his scruff a little would’ve been a completely foreign concept to young Spencer. I remember him always complaining about how scratchy it felt when he even let it grow out a little. The scruff also used to seem jarring on his younger face, looking out of place on his boyish face. Now his face definitely suited the scruff.

He had changed a lot indeed, but underneath it all I could still see the Spencer I knew. His eyes held a darkness now that matched well with the fluffy curls and scruff. The darkness that deepened his eyes was attractive for sure, but I wondered what had made the sweet boy become so dark. There was a part of me that wanted to know this Spencer as well, even with the darkness, despite the fact that I hadn’t really known him in so long.

His eyes had been piercing right into my own as I took the sight of him in. Those dark eyes felt like they were reaching right into my soul and hooking their claws in deep to draw me right back into him. Though I can’t say I minded much, being drawn back into Spencer’s warmth sounded like something we may both need.

“Dr.?” One of the men that was in the room with Spencer spoke up to get my attention. They must have been talking while the both of us had zoned out looking at each other.

The older man that spoke to me looked like he may have been a bit too old to work for the FBI. If I didn’t know that Spencer worked for them I would’ve thought Arizona had been pulling our legs when she told us what this was for because Instead of acknowledging the other man I turned back to face Spencer and spoke softly,”It’s good to see you, Spencer.”

“You too.” His voice croaked and was hoarse when he replied. His coworkers looked extremely confused with what was happening, especially the woman with blonde hair that was eyeing me up and down. Though in her position I didn’t blame her, I’m assuming nothing had ever been shared with his coworkers ever since he had joined the FBI about someone that had been in his life all those years ago.

The group of us stood at an awkward standstill for a minute, I was unsure if I was supposed to say anything. I fidgeted a bit uncomfortable with a bunch of eyes fixated directly on me before Spencer decided to speak up to break the tension, “Um- well Y/N- there was a suspect that came here a few weeks ago to possibly find some people that would um- be suitable victims for him.”

I pushed my reminiscing thoughts of Spencer out of my mind just so I could properly answer their questions before hopefully snagging a minute away with him to talk. I wouldn’t lie, seeing him after all these years made my feelings flicker in a way I hadn’t felt in so long. And, it was really nice to hear him say my first name again. He was really the only one to ever make those butterflies in my stomach swell and sparks fly. I had even resigned myself to never feel those wonderful feelings of blossoming love again.

But, perhaps fate had decided to give us a second chance, realizing it had been too cruel to us by pulling us apart.

When the questions ended, which unfortunately I had really been no help to them- the only people that would’ve been able to help with the victims were probably Meredith or maybe Bailey who had been in contact with the poor people who had ended up as victims.

I moved to shuffle out of the room, though I purposefully lingered in hopes of Spencer pulling me aside to speak privately. I didn’t want to do it myself, he was on an important job after all.

My heart skipped a beat when I felt his fingers tentatively wrap his fingers around my wrist. Even from just a soft touch it was evident that his hands were not the same hands that I remembered. They were the same shape, his fingers were just as long and nimble and his palms were just as all encompassing, but there was something different in the way they felt. They felt rougher, covered in more calluses then I would think possible on him. The hands I remembered were baby soft as if they had been untouched by the world. Maybe the calluses were just from him handling the gun I saw strapped to his side, or maybe it was the same thing that had made the rest of him harder.

Even though he was an obviously harder- more damaged man compared to the one I knew I still wanted those callused hands to stroke my cheek again.

The yearning to be with him again had already flickered into a roaring fire just from seeing him with my eyes again and with one soft touch. I didn’t care in the slightest how much the world had changed him. The world had battered and bruised him, probably quite literally from my guess. I wanted to get to know this Spencer, even with the bruises he still filled my stomach full of butterflies and sparked my feelings into a roaring fire exactly like he had done so before.

I turned to face him, a little nervous that he’d tell me that he never wanted to see me again despite the fact that I knew he’d never say that to me no matter how much of a changed man he was.

“Do you want to get a coffee while I’m in town, maybe so we can- um catch up after your shift?” His voice was so soft, almost meek, giving me a little taste of what Spencer had been like and who he still was at his core.

“Yeah I’d like that, Spencer, just have one more surgery and then I’m yours.” His two coworkers that he had come with were giving us both looks like they’d be interrogating Spencer on the ride back. Yeah he definitely had never said anything about me judging by their looks I now cared to look at. I couldn’t blame him, the memories had been painful to look back on myself. But, seeing him now made them tinge with a little bit of sweetness instead of growing more bitter with time.

I pulled out my phone that was in my white jacket pocket and asked, “what’s your number?”

I had his old number memorized by heart easily even after all these years. It was as if I had taken a small portion of Spencer’s eidetic memory just so I could hold onto a number that after over ten years is surely not usable. He gave me his new number with a distinctly D.C area code with a sweet smile on his face. As I left the room to scoot over to the surgery I was due to perform I was sparkling with anticipation- I could almost taste the coffee already.

As I started my last surgery of my long shift, someone turned on the music playlist that I always had on a loop during my surgeries. A song that reminded me of Spencer was the first one that came on the shuffle. It wasn’t one that reminded me of the Spencer I once knew, but the new version of Spencer I had just met.

I focused in on the task at hand just as I always did. Cutting with pristine precision, I worked quickly but diligently. I wanted to get out of here as soon as possible, but I wouldn’t skimp on my work. In the back of my mind I was still giddy like the schoolgirl I had been when I had first met Spencer. I couldn’t wait to get that coffee with him- I wondered if he still liked a gallon of sugar with it. Our first song had ended, but the melody lived on- maybe the melody was strong enough to start another.

—-

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All Works:

@shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg

Spencer Reid/CM:

@calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler fluff #1250 follower celebration #1250 followers

[coconutstars]

Right people at the wrong time p.III

Part I Part II Part IV

Pairing: Stiles + reader   Prompt: Perhaps, we were the right people at the wrong time Summary: Reader deals with meeting Scott and Stiles for the first time in two years. She’s also properly introduced the one and only, Lydia Martin for the first time. So yeah, that’s a hoot. (Sidenote;; This also happens to be the part when reader *surprise surprise* realizes she’s still in love with Stiles ;) )  A/N: WHAT’S KICKIN’ MY CHICKENS? So this is part 3. It’s short, cute and messy af. Mostly because I re-wrote the entire thing in like 3 hours. Bon appeteeth, babes. 

[ :: ]

Kira was dragging you towards the group like a determined mother dragging her kids to bed.

“Really, Kira. I just remembered I have to…” you stammered but Kira didn’t seem to care for your excuses.

“Don’t be nervous, they’re super nice!” She dismissed with a bright smile.

“I’m sure they are” you mumbled, deliberating which option would be most effective; drop to the ground like an angry toddler being pulled away from the candy aisle at the store or cling onto the nearest tree and hold on for dear life. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t have time to do either because suddenly there you were, drowning in Scotts embrace as he pulled you in for a hug. “Y/N!” His entire body was hard, lean muscle. Quite a step up from the boney kid with bad Bieber hair you’d left two years ago. “God, I haven’t seen you since what… freshman year?” He asked releasing you. His facial features were significantly more defined, but he still had his kind eyes and boyish smile. 

All you could do was nod. This was definitely… confusing. You distinctly remember Stiles mentioning both him and Scott trying to get rid of you so why was Scott so… cheery? You wondered for a moment if it was all fake. Just for show. But Scott seemed genuinely happy to see you. But then again, Stiles had fooled you for years. Acted like he was your friend. Let you use the green lightsaber even though it was his favorite. Run the entire 2 miles from his house to yours to get the pink hello kitty band aids you loved that time you scraped your knee on his driveway. Yeah. He’d really fooled you. Who’s to say Scott wasn’t fooling you too?

“You guys know each other?” Kira said curiously, shifting her gaze between Scott and you. “Yeah! Yeah totally-“ Scott said brightly. He turned and pointed towards Stiles. “-the three of us used to hang out all the time when we were kids but then-” Stiles shifted uncomfortably in his seat and started tapping his thumbs impatiently against his thighs. Scotts stared at him for a second, almost a little too long, before turning back to you. He seemed to have lost his train of thought, so you quickly filled in. “ I moved away” Just as Stiles answered, “Uh, yeah. No yeah. We…” You both fell silent and for a moment your eyes met. He cleared his throat and looked away as you shifted your gaze awkwardly from one side to the other. The silence was almost deafening. “Right…” Lydia said, breaking the silence. She’d had her hands on Stiles shoulders but now lifted one to gesture vaguely in her own direction. “I’m Lydia”. You wanted to say that you already knew that. That she was one of the reasons why your life had gone to shit. Instead, you stuck a smile on your face and gave a lazy two finger wave. “Hey, Y/N” you replied.

You exchanged names with the rest of the group all while Stiles continued to tap his thumb against his thigh. His gaze seemed to flicker from one place to another and he kept moving his fists over his mouth, his lips grazing against the knuckles. The guy was really hot and bothered and it was driving you insane.

‘Don’t worry’ you thought furiously ‘I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me here’ From the corner of your eye, you could see Lydia lower her lips to Stile’s ear and whisper something. For a moment he looked up at her and the muscles in his shoulders relaxed. You swallowed, refusing to admit just how much the gesture hurt to witness.

Guess Stiles finally got his girl, huh? You wanted to laugh in irony.

It wasn’t even noon and life had already found a way to kick you in the head. Twice. Because you see. Seeing Stiles wasn’t the worst part. No, it was also the realization that seeing Stiles with Lydia hurt like a knife to the chest.

Hurt because deep down,

you still cared.

You’d realized it the second your eyes met in class. It’d only lasted for a split second, but when his warm, dark gaze met yours it was like you came home. Stiles had made it loud and clear that you were a burden to him, but he’d always represented safety to you. Fake or not, Stiles was the one who’d held your hand when you were too scared to jump from the diving tower at the beacon hills pool. The one who’d given you his sweater to cover up the period stains on your pants the first time you bled through at school. The one who’d biked to your house and sat with you on your front porch, talking your ears off to drown out the sound of your parents arguing inside. Stiles had been your lighthouse, shielding you from the storm that was your life.

Suddenly overwhelmed with feelings, you quickly dismissed yourself and left the group. You could hear Kira shout something about meeting up before next period, but you weren’t entirely sure. Sneaking into the girl’s bathroom, you locked yourself in a stall and collapsed on the cold porcelain seat. God this day sucked. Burying your face in your hands, you took a few deep breaths. You didn’t want to admit it for you knew it would only bring heartache and pain, but the truth was undeniable.

You were still in love with Stiles.

Taglist: @jjpogueprincess

#imagine stiles #stiles fanfiction #stiles stilinski fanfiction #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf #stiles x reader #stiles x y/n #Stiles #stiles stilinski #stiles imagine #stiles stilinksi imagine

[darlington-v]

for what it's worth we're trying to shift the c!dream analysis away from strictly Tommy's character but it's hard when the energy from the other side is 'you're evil for doing this' /lh

i kno this is lighthearted but, i mean... it's not just one side of tumblr, as someone who sees and goes through essays every other day? sometimes day to day, but i'm not the most proactive mod -- a little in part because it can be exhausting.

like, any side of the fandom can point fingers i guess but... there's still a lot of polarity, and i just wish more people would finally put up the mantle on some of the arguments being made and like realize like... a lot of people's minds are kind of made up? and these like "debunking" essays don't really help much due to different interpretations -- which is something bound to happen with a story whose medium is minecraft twitch streams.

like that's a lot of content to cover that most of us just... can't really do? so most people will have a patchy timeline, potentially missing certain nuances from different streams on top of just... the vast amount of point of views.

like with those two factors within the story itself, there's also the matter of how people will interpret the story which can vary differently and widely in this fandom considering how big it is.

like even if i could claim that "oh this is definitively like what happened here's how you can tell because of the juxtaposition and the irony" it's just been rehashed so many times that i personally have learned that this is an argument to cut my losses on.

i personally don't have the energy, and i mean it reminds me like... not every interpretation someone has of a certain media is the way it was truly intended, including my own.

i think we'll definitively figure out the context, interpretation, and all that fun stuff when these arcs and conflicts finally wrap up? i just wish like. people would understand maybe it is best to just cut your losses and focus on something else? like discussion is great when it's good faith discussion and not just two people yelling at each other, or... vaguing each other. i feel like a lot of essays and debates discussing such stark points are not there to elaborate upon points of views with like an open mind, but rather to keep a closed mind and just... assert your position without relenting or even trying to understand? which is bad faith discussion.

like i understand it's an unrealistic request and wish, because it just seems like... that's what people are focused on? no amount of hey haha what if we talked about something else will really help the situation.

but it's still exhausting to see. like even when i'm not doing "mod stuff" and it's just on my dash.

and i'm definitely someone who has fallen into making similar posts, i'm just trying a lot harder to be more vigilant about it because i realize it's making a really uncomfy and unwelcoming atmosphere within the meta discussion in the fandom

tldr;

it's not just one side of dsmpblr, every part is kind of guilty of rehashing the same polarizing discussion that's been had over the past 6 months or so, myself undoubtedly included

#asks #anonymous #dsmp analysis #dream smp #dsmp #dream smp analysis #my analysis

[everyonewasabird]

Brickclub 3.4.1 ‘Group that almost’ part 11: Grantaire

All the other Amis are Legitimate Sons of the Republic, and so the first note we meet Grantaire on, following that, is a vague idea of illegitimacy. It’s hard to say why that feels so very right to me. This is pure headcanon, but I could easily see him as the actual illegitimate son of somebody--well cared for but aware of himself as a bit of a sore spot from birth, a reminder of the existence of corruption in a way he internalizes. It’s certainly the way he positions himself in the Amis family: he’s there, but off to the side. He’s there, but no one, least of all him, is quite sure why.

It’s been so long since I’ve come to Grantaire’s description in order, with fresh eyes. It’s a novel experience, and I’m going to give my impressions as they happen.

And... he's actually quite charming?

He’s charismatic, the one who always knows where the party should go next, naturally good at physical pursuits, and so on. He seems confident and conceited--which is not what I was expecting--and that can be charming or insufferable, depending on how it’s carried. Right now it’s striking me as on the charming side. He’s not in your face about it, but by pretending he’s in general demand among women, he’s carrying whatever he’s carrying about other people’s feelings about his appearance in a way that smooths the experience for everyone.

(It’s a dynamic that’s striking me as extremely middle school for some reason? God, I’m thinking of some terrible movie from the 80s aren’t I. I think I’m happier not knowing what this memory is.)

And then we get to the way skepticism has hollowed him out.

Hugo describes irony as a kind of disease, and Grantaire is the exemplar of that malady, demonstrating to the reader what it does to somebody. And, you know, I grew up in the 80s and 90s, I’m just going to straight up agree with that.

Then we get to his need for Enjolras to imbue him with structure and meaning. It’s a beautiful description, and it makes sense: Grantaire feels his own incompleteness. He feels the need to be something different, but he can’t find the change in himself, on his own.

But he keeps coming. He doesn’t know what it is he’s coming for, but he needs it enough that he can’t walk away from it. It’s a form of desperate hope, and it seems like the thing he hopes for is.. hope.

I appreciate how, again, there are no backstory reasons for this. There’s no past that explains him--other than the history of France--and there shouldn’t be, notwithstanding the rampant headcanoning I started this post with. Marius comes to the Musain because he’s working out some complex family shit; Grantaire doesn’t. He rejects the realm of ideals, but he also exists solely in the realm of ideals, in the sense that ideals are the reason he’s here. Yeah, Enjolras is the reason he’s here. But what is Enjolras but ideals?

Like Valjean kneeling before the bishop and the nuns, Grantaire doesn’t know how to touch the infinite except through an intermediary. But he’s trying desperately to touch the infinite.

I really like that after we get the description of everything about Grantaire attaching itself to Enjolras, the text explains that that phenomenon has nothing to do with Enjolras. It’s inherently something about Grantaire:

He was himself, moreover, composed of two apparently incompatible elements. He was ironical and cordial. His indifference was loving. His mind dispensed with belief, yet his heart could not dispense with friendship. A thorough contradiction; for an affection is a conviction. His nature was so.

Like we’ll see later with Eponine’s feelings for Marius, Grantaire’s feelings for Enjolras aren’t about him but what he represents in Grantaire’s internal journey. Though, of course, there’s much less of a power imbalance here--Enjolras and Grantaire share materially similar circumstance, and it’s only spiritually that Grantaire is lost at sea.

God, this has gotten so long and I haven’t even gotten to any of the queer references.

My sense from others is that 1) Hugo in life was absolutely surrounded by queer friends and 2) it’s not clear he ever realized that.

So, briefly: reference to Orestes and Pylades was absolutely used to refer to queer men in canon era, and used by people on complete opposite sides of the spectrum; I’ve heard Borel roll his eyes at having to use it in order to talk about queer men (a group he belonged to), and I’ve heard Vidocq use it with sneeringly vicious homophobia.

Did Hugo understand that usage? I really have no idea.

But I’m fascinated by the way Enjolras and Grantaire’s whole relationship is simultaneously completely one-sided--but also, it bleeds into the omniscient narration of the text.

Like, this O&P nonsense is all 100% entirely Grantaire’s thing. Clearly! But, then, why does the narrator invoke Antinous in Enjolras’s initial description? Why, in the literal last chapter of his life, is Enjolras given Orestes’ name, if “Orestes and Pylades” is just a thing happening in Grantaire’s head?

And yet, it IS just a thing in Grantaire’s head! It seems all very simple from Enjolras’s side: he’s willing to let Grantaire keep showing up, and he still hopes Grantaire will actually make himself useful, but this whole thing is pretty annoying. Which: very fair! Honestly, just letting Grantaire keep coming to meetings to stare at him must take quite a lot of patience.

But also: the text is holding Enjolras to a higher standard, and at some level it knows that’s not good enough, from either of them. As I’ve talked about before, saving people is a tricky business in this book, prone to a strange parasocial one-sidedness that amounts to ingratitude on the side of the person doing the saving. OFPD, if nothing else, rectifies that.

Anyway, I’m really excited. I’ve had so much trouble reading Grantaire before, and I’m so glad to be meeting him (sort of) afresh this time around.

#i went for free-associating #it seemed right #brickclub #lm 3.4.1 #part 11 #grantaire #someday soon--perhaps tomorrow--i will move on to a DIFFERENT CHAPTER #sorry this got so long but in my defense: GRANTAIRE

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

When Our Hands Next Meet

Series summary: Soulmates are given memories of their past lives when their hands touch. For Virgil and Logan, each memory is happier than the last.

This series was created for @analogicalweek and made in collaboration with the lovely @birdsongisland! Please go look at the wonderful drawing that pairs with this work and support them with reblogs so their work can be seen!

Credit to birdsongisland for beta reading this as well, it came out a lot better because of them!

Chapter 5: We’ll Meet in the Middle

Chapter Summary: Virgil didn’t know what he had been expecting when he asked for a tutor to help with his studies, but it definitely wasn’t who could kick flip a skateboard without even looking down and also happened to be his soulmate. 

Day 5 Prompt: Vocab Card/Skateboard

Warnings: none. If there are others please let me know!

WC: 1539

AO3 link

Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @ace-in-a-shopping-cart @janus-is-an-adorable-snek-boi @logans-library @im-an-anxious-wreck @edupunkn00b

Virgil huffed as he cupped his chin aggressively in his hand, staring down the road to wait for his tutor to show up. Not to get the wrong idea- he was very grateful to the person who had agreed to help him with his vocabulary; he just...wasn’t the best with people. He was socially awkward and very obviously had a vague emo style- wavy purple hair with white streaks fell messily over shadowed eyes and cheeks that would burn in five minutes outside despite his tanned complexion. His black nail  polish was chipping from the constant picking and he was never seen anywhere without his favorite purple hoodie hugging him like a portable blanket. But he was falling a bit behind in class because he couldn’t seem to remember the constant influx of new terminology thrown at him each week. Asking the professor about extra practice had landed him a phone number that he had agonized over for too many hours before finally biting the bullet and calling.

The voice on the other end alone was enough to make his stomach flip, light and lilting even when talking about something as boring as scheduling. Virgil knew it then and he was stewing over it now- he was absolutely done for. No one had that kind of voice without being kind and patient and while those were things he definitely needed if he was going to learn anything he was sure he’d get distracted anyway. Forming a squish from a voice- that had to be the worst joke played on him yet.

Looking up however nearly made him want to cry at the irony. That had to be him, the only person on campus at the moment standing tall on a skateboard while gripping a dark blue messenger bag. From what Virgil could see he had blue hair that was pulled to one side with the other shaved, immediately piquing Virgil’s interest with the unique look. He tried his hardest not to stare as he came closer and his jacket came into view; a leather one spiked at the shoulders and sporting pride flags at the chest. Virgil felt his own chest constrict as he stored that away for later, the pintrovert system coming in handy for what felt like the first time in his life.

Just as he was getting his crutches situated to stand up he noticed the other man riding straight for the sidewalk seemingly not paying attention to where he was going. Scrambling to his feet he lurched forward to yell out.

“Hey watch ou-” The warning died on his lips as his tutor executed a perfect lick flip onto the sidewalk, letting the momentum carry him a couple more feet before stopping and tucking the skateboard under his arms. Virgil was sure he looked like an absolute idiot as he approached him, trying his hardest not to gape while practically feeling his eyes sparkling while looking at the punk with wide eyes. 

“Hello, I’m Logan. And you’re Virgil right? The person I’m supposed to help with his medical terms?” He waited for Virgil to nod before continuing. “Excellent. Is the library fine?”

Realizing He’d been silent too long, he managed to squeak out a “Yeah,” as he reached down to swing his bag over his shoulder. Logan started towards the doors with him, shuffling things around in his bag to pull out notecards and stuff the skateboard into it. How it fit Virgil had no idea but taking in the aesthetic he honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it involved some sort of fae magic. 

They settled down at the table and Logan looked over at him, making his heart once again skip a beat as he took in the beautiful shade of brown. Shaking his head slightly he tried to focus on what Logan was currently talking about while organizing several colored pens in front of them.

“-that way you’ll be able to separate the terms better and your brain will be better equipped to compartmentalize the terms you need to remember in half the time. Does that make sense?”

It didn’t. It really, really didn’t. He had a soulmate somewhere that he hadn’t found yet and most likely wouldn’t for a long time to come, and yet here he was trying desperately to hide a blush because this person was just- he was so cool. His voice and eyes were pretty and he was obviously smart if he had been the first person his teacher had recommended to tutor him…

“Are you feeling alright? You look flushed.” Hearing this Virgil snapped back to reality and gave a thumbs up, ducking his head while trying to resist the urge to slam it into the wood. 

“Fine, yeah! Just you’re- it’s hot! Hot in the hoodie.” Praying he had saved that sentence quickly enough he dared to peak back at Logan through his bangs, who was just smiling slightly with an arm draped over the back of his chair.

“You can take that off then, if you want.” Logan pointed to the hoodie. “Since you’re hot.”

Virgil decided then, somehow managing to keep a straight face through his panic, that it was quite homophobic of the floor to not simply open and swallow him whole. Try as he might to calm himself he could still feel the remnants of the harsh flush in his cheeks as he saw Logan simply look at him with that smile, making him idly wonder if the sly bastard was really flirting with him or was actually just that oblivious.

Virgil sputtered as he wrapped the hoodie tighter around himself, shaking his head slightly. “Nah, I’m fine actually! You were saying about colors?”

“Just that color coding can help you study better. I’m here to give you tips as well so please pay attention.” Leaning forward again, Logan started explaining how to separate the different concepts and how to decide what was important and what wasn’t; honestly Virgil was genuinely surprised at how much he retained, forgetting his panic in favor of actually learning, for which he was very grateful. By the time an hour had passed he had a pretty good grasp on what he was meant to be learning and how to go about it. He stacked his much improved notecards together and shoved them in his pocket for later, shifting around in his seat to look at Logan properly.

“Thank you honestly, I feel a lot better about the class now.”

“It was no trouble, I’m grateful I was able to help. And if you’re in need of further assistance before next week, call me?” Logan smiled crookedly. “I use the library’s phone for tutor scheduling, this is for my actual phone..”

Virgil gaped at the slip of paper offered to him with a wink, fully cementing the idea that Logan had, in fact, been flirting with him and Virgil had been too infatuated with his style to actually notice. Purple nail polish caught his eye as his hand moved closer and he had the vague thought of that being his favorite color and how did he keep them from chipping? Before his thoughts could wonder further he was taking the paper and smiling, just aware enough of their fingers brushing as he remembered  being with this person, his soulmate, time and time again. Every time was better than the last as their souls grew accustomed to one another and grew over eternity, strengthening their bond with every word exchanged.

Virgil looked at his soulmate's dazed expression, the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen gracing his lips and eyes watering with emotion at having found him again. So many words stuck in his throat as he struggled with the perfect thing to say, something that would capture how happy he was to finally be together again and how excited he was to explore this lifetime together. Something that would make Logan understand just how much he meant to him.

“I think this is the coolest form you’ve ever taken.” He blurted, immediately covering his mouth and cursing himself twice over.

His heart sank as Logan barked out a laugh, snorting into his own hand and taking a minute to compose himself before laying a gentle hand on his cheek. 

“And I think this is the loveliest I’ve seen you.” 

He laughed softly as Virgil went completely red, fingers twitching with indecision over whether to flap his hand or slap the idiot beside him. Deciding on a combination of both he frantically beat a hand against his shoulder while sleeping his other over his mouth, mumbling profanities under his breath. Whipping around as his hand was caught he couldn’t help but grin at Logan’s own brilliant smile, even if his face felt like he had dipped it in a vat of boiling water.

“It’s getting late, I could walk you home?”

“Yeah,” Virgil managed. “I’d like that.”

Walking home and still slightly wishing the floor had opened up beneath him, he couldn’t help but feel lucky that he had found Logan so soon. They had an eternity to catch up on and if it had to start with fixing his bad study habits, he supposed he couldn’t complain.

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#false writes #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #analogical #analogicalweek #analogical week #virgil sanders #logan sanders #collab #collaboration

[scxrlettwxtches]

true love’s irony | hwang hyunjin

Genre: royal au, fluff, angst, very bittersweet ig(?), slight han jisung x reader dynamics 

Warnings: light making out hehe

Word Count: ~5.3k

Description: You were never just Prince Hyunjin’s servant. You were his one true love, the sparkle of joy in his dull princely life. And despite his intense desire to have you as his own, your happiness would always be more important to him.

A/N: i have absolutely no idea what this is. it was supposed to be a short drabble to get rid of the hyunjin/jisung rivalry flooding my brain, but then it evolved into something a little bigger. i know it’s pretty terrible, but i had to finish it asdfghjk--on the bright side, i can finally start to tackle those requests that you had so graciously sent to me, and im super pumped about it! as always, my dms and my asks are open to anyone who’d like to be friends! love y’all!

i.

Hyunjin’s evening had turned considerably less enjoyable, and it was all because of you.

Actually, that was mean, because you didn’t do anything wrong. Hyunjin was sure that you couldn’t harbor malice intentions towards anyone even if you wanted to. You were just perfect like that, at least in his eyes. However, as he stood beside the crown prince, his brother, he watched you glide across the ballroom like a graceful fairy, dancing with someone that was distinctly not him. 

“You might want to tone down that glare, Hyunjin,” Minho nudged him with a subtle elbow as he leaned to whisper in his ear, “You’re going to start a war at this rate.”

Of course Minho knew what the problem was. The young prince was never subtle about his affections for you, never hesitating from letting his words of love fall out of his lips. Everyone in the castle knew. Everyone except you, Hyunjin had slowly began to realize after some time of watching his advances being brushed off without even a second of thought. 

Truthfully, Hyunjin’s evening had started out being more exciting than usual. When he’d bumped into you in the morning as you rushed about the palace running miscellaneous errands, you’d happily told him that you would be able to attend at least part of the ball as long as you completed all your chores. Hyunjin was elated; you rarely came to these events, and even when you did, Hyunjin would always be unfortunately occupied with entertaining a visiting princess or any potential marriage partners. This time, there were no visiting princesses, and his mother had finally agreed to lay off the incessant  matchmaking, at least for a little bit. 

What Hyunjin had genuinely not expected was for someone to sweep you into a dance before he could even make his way towards you. 

“You are not the only one with eyes,” Minho chided as Hyunjin failed to control his raging jealousy, “Anyone can see that Y/N looks quite dazzling tonight.” 

And you were dazzling alright. Hyunjin was not a fool, he thought you looked especially pretty that evening, dressed in a flowing, lilac gown that billowed gracefully whenever you moved, the off shoulder design creating a sort of airness about you that only further showed off your angelic features. The dress was clearly a little less posh than the rest, no doubt a reject from the tailors that you’d taken and given it your own personal touch. Still, Hyunjin could say without a doubt that you were the most beautiful in the ballroom. 

Hyunjin would’ve been fine with you dancing with other people. You were beautiful and of age to be married, so it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. You also never seemed to pay very much attention to the partners that you danced with, always politely brushing off their advances or diverting their attention before slipping away, all while Hyunjin watched with uncontrolled glee. 

This time, things were different.

Because you weren’t dancing with just anyone, you were dancing with Han Jisung.

Hyunjin and Jisung were not friends, and if anyone tried to make a case for it, Hyunjin would--without fail--burst into a rant of how Jisung had done him wrong all his life. As princes from neighboring kingdoms, the two boys who were also of the same age were constantly put together during their lives, which only heightened their competitiveness. Hyunjin didn’t like Jisung, but he did respect him. He had a certain charm about him, a certain air in which he carried about him that made it seem like everything came easily to him. He had a smile that could put everyone at ease, and a sense of humor that made him a blossoming social butterfly. 

Hyunjin knew all those things, and yet, when he watched Jisung approach you with his trademark smile and lighthearted quips, he’d expected you to dance one song with him and then proceed to brush him off like the rest. But one song soon became two, and then three, until you had spent the entire evening so far with a certain Han Jisung. It was clear that he captivated you from the way you smiled, from the way your eyes sparkled whenever he spoke. 

Hyunjin hated it. Your eyes should only sparkle like that with him!

“You know, you could just ask her to dance, and spare yourself the agony of watching them fall in love,” Minho commented with a chuckle. 

“They are not falling in love!” Hyunjin hissed, but his eyes darted uncertainty back to the pair who were currently getting a drink together in the side of the room, laughing together as Jisung makes sure to keep his arm hovering near your waist.

“You wait any longer and they will,” Minho pointed out bluntly, now turning to look at the pair as well, “You know Jisung doesn’t mingle with anyone that he doesn’t think is interesting.” 

Hyunjin clenched his fist, finally getting fed up with his brother’s unnecessary commentary, “Why are you rubbing salt in the wound?” he growled lowly, careful not to attract any unwanted attention or start any rumors that the two princes were fighting. 

“Because I’m tired of watching you pine after her like a kicked puppy. You can’t expect to be able to chase away all her suitors with bribes and threats.”

“It’s worked for now,” Hyunjin grumbled under his breath, suddenly looking a little more embarrassed, “And besides, Y/N wasn’t interested in them either.” 

“But it’s going to stop working eventually,” Minho said, and Hyunjin hated just how reasonable his brother was sounding right now, “What will you do when Y/N actually falls in love with someone? Will you chase them away just to appease your childish jealousy?”

“She won’t fall in love,” Hyunjin stressed, glaring at the man. 

“She won’t now, because she’s in love with you, but she won’t wait forever,” Minho retorted smoothly. 

Hyunjin let out a bitter chuckle, “Don’t mock me. You know she’s not in love with me, or she would’ve noticed,” he muttered, thinking of every gift he’d given you, every subtle confession he’d ever made, every moment when he’d do something just to get your eyes to sparkle in the special way he loved so much. 

“That’s because she’s oblivious, and if you haven’t noticed that she loves you, then you’re just as oblivious,” Minho scoffed, looking at you and Jisung back on the dance floor, waltzing away, “Do you think she goes out of her way to take care of you when you’re sick, stay up with you when you’re stressed, cheer the loudest during your ride tournaments just because she’s a palace maid?” 

“You goad me now, but where will you stand when I ask for mother and father’s permission to marry her?”

Minho couldn’t help but look a little surprised, “You want to marry her already--”

“You know what I mean!” Hyunjin snapped, turning to face his older brother, “What can I give her? What can I truly give her? Absolutely nothing, because mother and father would never allow this--us--to happen,” he spoke, and Minho distinctly ignore how choked up Hyunjin’s voice suddenly sounded.

Looking out into the ballroom, Minho took a minute before answering, “I can’t tell you for certain what will happen in the future. But Hyunjin, if you let what the two of you have die without ever confronting it, both of you will live with unbearable regrets.” 

Hyunjin closed his eyes. Minho was right. There would be a festering hole in his heart for the rest of his life if he continued to watch you from afar, never truly making a move and yet not being able to bear the pain of seeing you with someone else. 

As he heard the sound of your lilting, graceful laughter carry across the ballroom, Hyunjin lifted his head, watching as Jisung held you tightly as the two of you danced. He could feel his blood boiling, his temper rising again. Jisung dipped you with experienced ease, his fingers gripping your waist tightly as if you were already his, and Hyunjin finally snapped. 

ii.

You were honestly having one of the best nights of your life until Hyunjin ruined it. 

Actually, that’s a little mean, but it was true. Fairytales always talk about fated meeting between friends, between lovers, and that day, you really believed that meeting Han Jisung was fate. You were hesitant at first to accept his offer to dance, but his charm eventually swept you into one, then two, then three dances. 

Your time in the palace was far from torturous. Having grown up with Hyunjin, he’d always been kind to you, treating you as an equal more than a servant, something you were still very grateful about. However, as you grew up, you began to get bored of the palace, of the people. Han Jisung was a breath of fresh air, and you found yourself having difficulty letting your thoughts drift to anyone but him. He was kind, entertaining, and the words that he’d spoken during one of your dances seemed particularly appealing. 

Of course, you were vaguely away of Hyunjin’s presence the whole time. Being his maid practically since the day you came out of your mother’s womb, it was hard for your eyes and your brain to stop instinctively searching for the man, to keep him out of trouble. Luckily for you, he wasn’t difficult to spot, taking a place beside the Crown Prince, but as Jisung dipped you in a graceful arch, you glanced out of the corner of your eye that Hyunjin was suddenly missing. 

Oh, well. He was probably courting another noble lady to pass the time.

It wasn’t until the song ended, and you and Jisung were both giving each other teasing curtsies when you felt a familiar hand wrap around your wrist, causing you to freeze. Hyunjin lightly tugged you into his personal space as he towered over you.

“I think you’ve taken up enough of Lady Y/N’s evening,” Hyunjin spoke lightly as he gave Jisung a stare that was anything but lighthearted. 

“Nonsense, I thought we were quite enjoying each other’s company,” Jisung gave you a dramatic bow to which you couldn’t help but laugh at, still in disbelief that a prince like him would be so carefree. 

Your laugh and obvious amusement towards Jisung only worked to set Hyunjin off further, and he clenched his jaw before speaking, “Could I interrupt your enjoyment for one dance?” his voice oozing sarcasm as he asked, the cold Prince Hyunjin persona seeping into his stance. Then, his gaze shifted towards you and it all vanished, showing a crack of vulnerability in the prince’s normally proud ego, “Please?” 

How could you refuse him when he looked at you with those eyes, his exterior so cold and yet his final request similar to one of a needy puppy? 

“Just one,” you found yourself saying before turning to curtsey to Jisung, “Thank you for the wonderful evening, Your Highness,” you said politely, putting the Queen’s etiquette classes to proper use. 

Jisung chuckled, bowing to you with the respect that, as a servant, you didn’t deserve from the likes of a prince, “I hope to see you again, Lady Y/N,” he said, mockingly formal. 

Hyunjin didn’t wait a moment longer after the farewell to tug you away from the prince, walking to the middle of the ballroom just as the musicians begin their next waltz. His one hand moved to hold yours delicately, his other wrapping around your waist and pulling you snug against him. But, to your credit, you were barely caught off guard by his subtle flirting. After all, the two of you had been dancing since you were only little kids, and it was a talent that came naturally to you, especially when dancing with Hyunjin. 

The music began to play, and the two of you glided expertly across the ballroom floor, totally in sync as you looked up into his eyes, finding it hard to pay attention to who’s around you and not hard at all to get lost in those beautiful brown eyes of his. 

Still, you could notice a telltale pout on his lips, the one that always made him seem younger, more childish, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly, “Why the long face, Your Highness?” 

Hyunjin pouted even more, and you could feel the fingers wrapped around your waist tighten almost imperceptibly, “Of all people, why were you dancing with him?” he whined, sounding too much like a petulant child as you chuckled.

“You’re throwing a tantrum because I danced with Prince Jisung?” you clarified, and Hyunjin avoided your gaze, which told you all you needed to know, “How old are you, Your Highness?”

“That’s not nice, Y/N!” Hyunjin frowned, “You know he’s a jerk.”

“I know,” you said firmly as he spun you around before guiding you back to his arms, “that the two of you were immaturely competitive in your younger years and just never had the change to talk things out.”

Hyunjin’s hand wrapped around your much smaller one only tightened its grip, “I understand one dance, but you were with him all night,” he said, distraught, “You didn’t even look for me once!”

“I did look for you!” you laughed in response, “And I saw you with the Crown Prince, so I knew you had company.”

“But I want your company,” This made you genuinely blush, and you quickly angled your head to the side in order to do an admittedly horrible job of hiding the reaction on your face. 

Hyunjin, the attentive little brat, immediately caught the obvious pink of your cheeks as he leaned closer to your ear, “Do you like it when I’m clingy?” he whispered, and you gave him a light shove to the chest. 

“I’m not in the mood for your teasing,” you retorted with a scrunch of your nose, something that--unbeknownst to you--Hyunjin thought was absolutely adorable. However, Hyunjin’s attention had drifted away from your lighthearted conversation, and his eyes fell to the glimmering charm around your neck.

“You’re wearing it,” he stated, as if he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. It was his necklace, a beautiful little diamond charm on a thin chain. He’d spent days looking for the right one, one that would suit your more modest nature, and yet would show how much he is willing to spoil you if you truly let him.

Your hand instinctively reached to touch the charm lightly, “Well, of course I am,” you said lightly as you slipped your hand back into his, “it matches my dress, does it not?”

It certainly did match, but Hyunjin still had a genuinely dumbfounded expression on his face, “You never wear it,” he said more firmly, “I’ve never seen it.”

“Of course, I wear it!” you retorted hotly, and your dance steps suddenly moved a bit faster as you tried to contain yourself, “I just have to hide it under my shirt sometimes. Not just anyone can get me a diamond charm necklace. They’ll figure out it’s you soon enough, and you’ll be the laughing stock of town.”

Hyunjin pouted, obviously wanting you to show off his gifts, but you couldn’t always do what he wanted. 

Eventually, the dance came to a finish, and the two of you stepped back from each other, dipping your heads in a curtsey. Hyunjin held your hand in his, bringing it to his lips to leave a lingering kiss, “Do you wanna get out of here?”

“Not if it means your mother scolding me about being a bad influence again,” you said, before saying sternly, “I know she told you to stay and entertain the guests today.”

Hyunjin’s smile widened a fraction, “Getting out of here it is.”

“Your Highness, I just said—” your exasperated sigh was ignored as Hyunjin began to guide you out of the ballroom, bobbing and weaving through the crowd and heading to a covert back door exit. 

“We’re going to get in trouble. And by we, I mean me.”

“Minho will cover us,” Hyunjin replied lightly as he opened the door, which was more of a hatch in the wall than anything, and the two of you slipped away from the party without anyone noticing, leaving the stately music and the elegant dances behind.

iii.

“Isn’t this much better?” Hyunjin sighed contently as he laid down on the grass of the royal gardens, stretching his limbs and letting out an unrestrained yawn.

You were not as relaxed, sitting beside him, your beautiful yet cheap dress smoothed out under you, “It’s only going to be nice until your mother comes out and rains hell down on both of us.”

“Why are you afraid of my mother?” Hyunjin pouted, tilting his head to look up at you.

“Because she’s the queen and she can literally chop my head off with a snap of her fingers?” you questioned him, raising your eyebrows.

“No one will chop off your head. I won’t ever let it happen,” Hyunjin spoke with vitriol, suddenly sounding much more aggressive than before. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Thank you. You’ve always had my back, Hyunjin,” In the safety of the empty garden, with nothing but the fireflies and the flowers to hear your words, you allowed yourself to say his name, his real name, without the fussy titles the separated your statuses. 

Hyunjin rolled over, clenching his fist at the sound of his name falling out of your lips. Oh, it drove him mad. He would give anything to marry you, make you a princess, and you’d be able to call him that whenever you pleased. He sat up, his face moving near yours as he studied your face curiously.

You backed up a little, a blush clear on your face at Hyunjin’s forwardness, “What do you want?” you asked, trying to sound annoyed and failing miserably. 

“I want you to me honest with me,” Hyunjin said simply, already reaching to stroke your cheek with his thumb. His touch was delicate, fleeting, and you found yourself leaning into it instinctively.

“I’m always honest with you,” you murmured a soft, weak retort, and Hyunjin chuckled.

“If you were always honest, I wouldn’t be asking it of you right now,” Hyunjin looked deep into your eyes, seeing the endless layers of kindness, uncertainty, homeliness, love. He would be content with studying your face for the rest of his life if only you would stop looking down at your feet whenever you’re with him.

“Well, then what is it?” you asked, tilting your head to the side, looking almost concerned.

Hyunjin seemed almost entranced with your face as he stroked your cheek, his eyes getting lost in yours. Right when you thought that he really wasn’t going to say anything at all, he spoke softly, “Do you love me?”

It felt like the world stopped. Your cheeks flared into a bright red color, and you stammered incomprehensibly, “H-Hyunjin--Hyunjin, what are you saying--”

“There’s something between us, Y/N, you must feel it too,” Hyunjin said--no, begged--his hands now cupping your face delicately, like you were the most precious thing he’s ever touched.

“Hyunjin, even if I wanted t-to, we can’t…”

“Then, I’ll be honest first,” Hyunjin spoke, stroking your cheek, “I love you. I’ve loved ever since I laid eyes on you. I fall in love with you over and over again, every time you laugh, every time you smile, every time you look at me with those beautiful eyes,” he tilted your head up as he moved even closer.

You struggled to speak, your mouth opening and closing as you finally nodded, your eyes sparkling in the way that made Hyunjin’s heart skip beats and soar into the air, “I’ve loved you for years, Hyunjin. I love you.”

That was all Hyunjin needed before he pressed his lips onto yours softly, for a moment, just to make sure you were genuinely okay. When you not only reciprocated but deepened the kiss, wrapping your delicate hand gently around the back of his neck and languidly played with his hair, he lost all control. He began to kiss you like a starving man, laying you down on the grass as he ravaged your mouth with his desperate, wanting love, and lacing your fingers together in both hands. 

It was only until both of you truly needed air that he finally pulled away with a breathless gasp. He looked down at the perfect picture of you, your eyes unfocused and dazed, your chest heaving as you took deep breaths, your cheeks flushed from excitement, and your lips...your lips were swollen and plump. It made Hyunjin almost feral. 

He did that. He put that expression on your face. That was something he was sure no one--not even the great Han Jisung--could do to you.

Hyunjin let out a gentle sigh as he helped you up, propping you against his chest so you could lie on him. You folded into his arms perfectly, curling into his side as his arm wrapped around your waist. He could see the content look in your face, your blissful expression. He wanted to see that smile on your face every single day, even if it killed him. 

Everything felt perfect, for you and for him, basking in each other’s love under the peaceful moonlight.

But you knew that things were far from perfect, and deep down, Hyunjin knew it too. 

“What did you and Jisung talk about?” Hyunjin finally asked after a long moment of peaceful silence. 

You looked up at him, your cheek still gently resting on his chest, “Are you still jealous?” You asked, faintly amused, “After what we just did?”

The prince shook his head, pressing his lips into your soft hair, “No, not jealous,” he answered softly, his free hand absently playing with your fingers.

“Then, what’s wrong?” you asked gently, and when he looked down at you, his heart was heavy. 

“Did he ask you to marry him?”

“Hyunjin!” your eyes widened at his suspicions as you pulled away from his embrace, “N-no, no of course not!”

“But he offered you something, did he not?” Hyunjin asked, his eyes looking anywhere but you.

There was no use hiding it from him. Settling down on the grass beside him, you lay your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes as you spoke, “He asked me to go to his kingdom with him. To visit.”

Hyunjin couldn’t help but chuckle at your innocence, your naivety, “That’s as good as a proposal, Y/N.” 

“What exactly are you trying to get at?” you finally lost your patience with the poor boy, looking up at him expectantly as your chin rests on his shoulder. Hyunjin tilted his head to look at you, his eyes filled with such sorrow and such longing, that you almost knew what he was going to say before the dreaded words even fell out of his mouth. 

“You should marry Jisung.”

Your entire body grew cold and you stared at Hyunjin with an unreadable expression on your face as you scooted away from him, “Are you serious?” you whispered, trying to hide the way your voice cracked, “After I just told you I loved you, you’re sending me away? That’s cruel.” 

“No, no, my darling Y/N,” Hyunjin spoke desperately, reaching to cup your cheeks with his hands as you turned your head away, “You misunderstand. I love you with all my heart. I love you more than there are stars in the sky.”

“Then, why?” you asked, your eyes sparkling not with curiosity, but with misty tears. Hyunjin wiped them away with gentle fingers. 

“You know why,” he said, his voice tinged with heartbreak, and you closed your eyes, tears silently rolling down your cheeks as you answered your own question. 

“Because your mother would never let you marry me, isn’t that right?” your voice was soft, disappointed, and resigned at the same time. Hyunjin looked away from your face, unable to bear the way your expression quite literally fell. 

The silence that screamed between the two of you was no longer comfortable. It was tense and sad before you broke it, “So that’s it?” you said softly, looking down at your hands as you tried to blink away the tears, “You’re just going to let me go?”

Hyunjin wanted to deny it at the top of his lungs. He wanted to run right up to his mother and tell her to look at herself in the mirror for one second to see how arrogant and stuck up she was. But he couldn’t.

“There’s no fighting my mother’s demands, you know that,” he said, running a hand through his soft, dark hair, “Even if I did, it would only be hard on you. I won’t let you suffer just because you love me.”

“How are you so certain things will go well with Jisung, then?” you asked almost spitefully, feeling bitter, feeling disappointed that Hyunjin was not doing more to fight for your love, “He’s a prince, the same as you.”

“Things are different in his kingdom. The queen was a mere commoner before she and Chan fell in love,” Hyunjin said, laughing without humor, “That man never cared about rules or traditions anyway.”

You finally looked up at him again, your lower lip quivering, “You understand what this means, right? If I leave with him, I’ll never be able to be by your side again!” you said desperately.

Hyunjin looked down, tears threatening to fall down his cheeks, “Don’t make this harder than it already is, please,” he implored you, his heart feeling painfully twisted the more he thought about your words.

“Hard? You’re the one that’s pushing me away--”

“I need you to be happy!” The prince finally blurted it out, the words tumbling out of his mouth as his voice gave way. He cupped your face in his hands, repeating them softly, “I need you to be happy, Y/N, and there’s no true happiness for you if you follow me. My mother won’t rest until I marry someone of high birth, and I’d never, never let you become my mistress,” 

“You deserve to be married in splendor, be treated like a queen and I-I can’t give that to you,” Hyunjin choked on his words, the tears finally falling from his misty eyes as he fully realizes that--despite being the most sought after prince, the man with everything--he truly had nothing to give you. 

You stared at Hyunjin as he fell apart in front of you, his head resting on your shoulder tiredly as you felt his tears drip onto your bare skin. Reaching up, you gently carded your fingers through his hair, whispering soothing words and humming gentle melodies.

“Hyunjin,” you finally spoke after a long moment, “if I do as you ask, what will become of your happiness?” 

The prince answered slowly, “My...happiness…” he repeated your words as if they were foreign to him, “I suppose I’ll find my happiness eventually. I’m happy if you’re happy, Y/N,” the words felt cheesier than any other pick up line he’d used on other princesses before, but you know that he meant every word he said to you. 

“I’m sorry,” It was the only thing you could say, and even then, it wasn’t quite enough for what you knew you were about to do; break the heart of your true love.

“I’m sorry, too,” Hyunjin spoke softly, and neither of you could resist the temptation. Tilting his head up, he shifted forward, pressing his lips against yours desperately, and you kissed him as if it were the last time you’d ever be able to see him. He pulled you into his lap, wanting to kiss you as deeply and as lovingly as possible, knowing this was the last. 

When you pulled away after what felt like only a split second, you sat in his lap, breathing heavily with tears pricking at the corner of your eyes again. Neither of you knew quite what to say, how to say it. The real goodbye. 

Reaching to the back of your neck, you fiddled with the clasp, and gently took off your diamond necklace, the only item of wealth you’d ever owned, Hyunjin’s courting gift that had gone unnoticed by you. You wanted to keep it, to hold it close to your heart as you would slowly begin to forget the prince who’d first stolen your affections. But you knew it wasn’t fair, neither to Hyunjin nor to Jisung. 

“Here,” you said gently, taking his hand in yours and opening his palm, placing the necklace into his hand, “When you find love, true love again, you can give it to them,” you looked at him fondly, not being able to resist an extra peck on his lips. 

As you stood up, having to leave the palace as midnight struck, indicating that all guests and people other than the royal family were to leave the premise, Hyunjin called out to your slowly disappearing figure, “You were my first true love, Y/N!”

You stopped in your tracks, your hand instinctively reaching to touch his necklace, only to find that it was no longer there. Turning around, you called back with a bittersweet smile, hoping that the distance could hide your tears, “And you were mine, Hyunjin.”

epilogue.

Hyunjin wasn’t sure what he was expecting when his servant had walked in to hand him a beautifully ornate envelope send from Chan’s kingdom. It was rare for him to receive mail from other kingdoms, especially since he was only the second prince, meaning that he was the last in line to receive important information. 

Still, as he neatly cut open the envelope and pulled out the card inside, he almost dropped it, the words on the paper causing his head to spin.

You are most graciously invited to the wedding of Prince Han and Lady Y/N.

Hyunjin could feel his heart twisting painfully again, almost like a phantom agony from that night, all those years ago. He could still recall every moment of that night in his head, from the first confession to the desperate kisses to the tearful goodbye. It had been more than three years, and as far as he’s heard from your last letter a couple months before, you were doing very well with Jisung.

He was happy for you, he truly was. All Hyunjin had ever wanted was to see you happy, and if that could only be achieved with you not being by his side, Hyunjin was alright with that. 

Still, he couldn’t help but let his brain wander, especially now knowing that there’s nothing he could do anymore. He wondered what would’ve happened if he’d decided to fight for your relationship. To make it known that he wasn’t going to marry any wealthy lady or princess, he was going to marry you. 

It wouldn’t matter any more, and the invitation in his hand made that perfectly clear, like twisting a knife into a slowly healing wound. 

Pulling open a small cabinet on the side of his desk, he slowly picked up a familiar diamond necklace, the only you had pressed into his palm before you’d disappeared into the night. The only physical remnant of your shared love. 

Hyunjin brought the charm to his lips, giving it one final kiss as if to truly say goodbye. He could feel the tears pricking at his eyes, but he kept them at bay as he opened a small chest in his closet, placing the necklace inside. Sparing it one final, heartbroken glance, he sealed the chest, locking it and throwing the key into the trash.

He would never have an urge to gift anyone else that necklace, anyway. 

~

a/n: why am i incapable of writing a truly happy ending lol pls help ;;_;;

#inkidz #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids drabbles #hwang hyunjin imagine #hwang hyunjin scenarios #skz imagines #skz scenarios #my fics

[inb4belphienaps]

boundaries

<pt. 2> warnings: fluff i think word count: 1525

belphie listens to your retreating footsteps, back still leaning against the metal as he tries to picture how you look. from your voice alone, he thinks you probably have a kind face. the approachable kind at least.

your eyes, well, with a hint of mischief as he's gathered from the stories you tell him. getting dragged into (and sometimes instigating) his brothers' antics suggested that you didn't take yourself too seriously.

and then he remembers your laugh. what he'd thought he'd find irritating is instead confusing. the instinct to ignore it grows ever weaker with each visit. he even finds himself smiling at the sound now. your amusement in itself could apparently be...amusing.

but that wasn't all.

there's a tightness in his chest when you leave. the walls of the attic close in on him ever so slightly and he's suddenly reminded of his current predicament.

he was essentially a prisoner here. how thoughtful of lucifer to have made one of his favorite napping places the very bane of his existence. he'd long gone past the stage of finding comfort in the familiarity of the floor-length drapes and antique lights.

they did little to dispel the loneliness.

eventually, he gets up from the floor and with that one motion, he begins to formulate a plan. a plan that would hopefully serve as a solution to his misery.

a plan he sets into motion the next time you come up those stairs.

he's counting the number of conjured arrows he can aim at the center of a painting (some relic from the celestial realm, he reasons with disdain) when you interrupt him, causing all the arrows to dematerialize in a puff of violet-tinted smoke.

"hey, i brought some reading with me today. hope you don't mind."

the smoke shifts in the air at your arrival, as if a gust of wind had come through the room.

"what's it for?"

papers shuffle. he hears you take a seat and slides off the bed. he walks up to the wrought iron gate, wishing you'd just move and sit in front of it so he can see you. at first, he'd thought you were shy. after your second encounter, he'd realized you were just being cautious. and for that, perhaps you weren't entirely stupid.

"seductive speechcraft."

oh the irony.

"an assignment?"

you hum in confirmation. he listens to the scratch of your pen, watching your elbow move. diligent, weren't you?

"maybe i can help you."

you scoff. he raises a brow.

"no thank you. don't think i don't know how you are with words."

oh? that was interesting. the two of you never really did talk about what you thought of one another. there's no time like the present then.

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"the way i see it, you're far too confident. and maybe that works in your favor", you say between flipping pages and scribbling notes.

oh...how adorable.

"don't you trust me?"

a huff. he sees your shoulder slump and wishes he could gauge your expression. were you genuinely upset at his question or at the notion itself?

"i mean...you haven't exactly given me a reason not to."

yes. like you'd implied, he'd made sure of it. not only so you could continue to help him but also, so you would keep coming back. he'd been the one to break the ice and tell you stories. and he'd made you feel comfortable enough to do the same.

"and?"

you stop writing. the corner of his lips quirks upwards. the moment you'd decided to disregard lucifer's warning and find him, had it simply been curiosity?

"i don't know. you won't...try anything, will you? hurt me or something, i mean."

he feels a pang of guilt. at another point in time, he probably would have. he curls his fingers around a crest-shaped notch in the gate and rests his forehead against the back of his palm, figuring it best to be honest.

"i won't. not anymore, anyway."

you visibly stiffen. he sighs inwardly.

"so it crossed your mind."

"it's complicated. try not to take it personally."

truly, it was. if he wanted to explain it all to you, he'd have to recall memories that were still too painful to re-live, even (or especially) in his dreams.

"well that doesn't make it any easier."

the wheels in his head spin as he tries to figure out a way to convey his emotions without setting himself off. keep it vague.

"before this", he gestures, hoping that it comes across in his tone (after all, he wasn't just referring to your sole influence). "i didn't have the highest opinion of humans."

you remain quiet.

"i basically blamed them for us falling, among other things."

the fires of his rage had subsided to embers. in his isolation, he'd had months to come to terms with his prejudice. during the initial turmoil, amidst the anguish that plagued him, he'd had to learn to separate himself from the emotions. to view the events as merely events.

it'd been (and still was) a bitter pill to swallow. that it hadn't been the man's fault his sister had fallen in love with him. that it was only out of that same love that she'd committed sacrilege. that...he'd needed someone to pin it on in the end.

"i realize that that hatred was misplaced."

hatred, he'd said. you sit in silence in an attempt to give the both of you a second or two to think.

he's nervous. what could you be thinking of him following such a confession? he lifts his head to see your elbow tucked in at your waist. were you resting your hand under your chin? were you...scared of him?

"i should hurry along with those pacts, huh?"

his eyes widen. and he laughs under his breath.

"there's no rush. not really."

you sigh.

"aren't you lonely? beel misses you, you know."

before he can make sense of the new thoughts attempting to de-rail his train of thought, he's answering you.

"it's not so bad with you here."

you chuckle. it's like a weight is lifted when you do. this sort of apprehension he felt around you, although uncomfortable, wasn't entirely unwelcome.

"charming, aren't you?"

and you turn your head slightly. he eyes the ends of your hair, how they catch the dull glow of the lamps in the attic. he wants to see you.

"do me a favor?"

"hm?"

"come into the light."

another laugh, this one more amused than the last.

"curious? to see the face of your savior?", you ask, a sarcastic confidence coloring your words.

"yes. that and i'll show you a trick if you do."

you drop your pen to the side, letting it roll across the top of your notebook. you want to see him up close too. the painting in the hallway had made him out to be rather sad. a part of you wanted to dispel that image for good.

"promise?"

"i promise."

he isn't aware that he's holding his breath until he meets your eyes and comes face-to-face with an expression that stirs up a feeling he'd almost forgotten.

attraction. how foreign it feels and yet how befitting it is of the situation.

"um, hi, i guess."

the awkward smile on your lips has his stomach twisting.

"hi."

fuck, i wish we'd done this earlier, he thinks.

"it better be a damn good trick you're going to show me."

how much more pleasantly that sentence flows as he's looking at you, taking in the curve of your mouth and the flush of your cheeks. he figures he shouldn't stare but then again, this 'trick' didn't require a lot of focus.

you watch as he stretches his closed fist out through a gap in the gate. you wonder for a moment, whether he's going to ask for your hand.

as he mutters an incantation, you gasp. swirls of purple and magenta snake around his fingers, and a pulse of light from within them sends goosebumps down your arms.

he opens his palm and there lies a butterfly in the center of it - a delicate, almost translucent butterfly with wings that shimmer. it takes off, fluttering away from him and you lift your hand to greet it.

its delicate wings brush against the tip of your thumb and you smile as it gently lands on your palm. upon closer inspection, you marvel at the intricate patterns on its back and soon it leaves, flying past you, making its way down the stairs.

his eyes never waver, even as you return your gaze to him once more. it's enough to make you stammer.

"t-thank you. uh...you'll have to teach me some time."

in the wake of your admiration for his 'talents', he takes your hand. his touch is surprisingly warm and his skin soft.

"i'd be happy to."

he places a kiss inside your palm and your heart, much like the butterfly, flutters. such intimacy from a man with sharp teeth.

"is it okay if i stay a bit longer?"

you're sure he notices the anticipation in your voice, how it quivers, expectant.

"of course."

#palm!!! kisses!!! #i'm a fucking sucker for that shit dude #obey me writing #obey me belphegor #obey me! belphegor #belphegor x reader #belphegor x gn reader #obey me fluff #obey me scenario #my writing 🐇