#and i think it was unintentional on their part but even if it was unintentional if still affected scara A LOT

[zepskies]

One Exception

Pairing: CJ Braxton x F. Reader

Summary: Joey has invited you to a party at Pacey’s apartment, and CJ has agreed to go, despite the contentious history between him and your new friends. He doesn’t want to be the reason you miss out on a good thing, but it also means he’ll have to hide his apprehension (and his alcoholism).  

AN: Here’s the sequel to Good Morning! This story takes place in 6.14 of the show, with a little twist.

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: Mature themes, but it doesn’t really warrant an 18+ rating. Angst, alcoholism, hurt/comfort, jealousy, fluff, tinge of spice, and implied smut.

“Nice television,” CJ remarked, noting the giant monstrosity in the middle of this very loud apartment.

“See? Told you it’d be low-key,” you said.

More like high and off-key, CJ thought wryly.

Nickleback’s “How You Remind Me” was blaring. People you and CJ recognized from school were crowded in the living room around the TV, as well as milling around the kitchen with beers and solo cups, and it was pretty much a wall of sound that already grated on CJ’s ears. Pacey had to be in here somewhere too.

You squeezed CJ’s hand and gave him a sympathetic smile.

“You okay?” you asked.

He gave you a smile to hide his nerves. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He was no stranger to parties. He just didn’t often find himself going to parties where the host had once introduced his face to a brick wall.

Before he truly got to know you, CJ had a one-time unintentional fling with your (former) dorm roommate, Audrey. She’d been spiraling out of control in an alcohol-fueled depression. He’d seen a kindred spirit in her and tried to help her. He just hadn’t known that she was still sort of in a relationship with Pacey, who had a mean right hook when he wanted to.

And then there was Jen, Audrey and Joey’s best friend. CJ felt the worst for hurting her along the way, unable to reciprocate her feelings…

And, oh yeah, you still didn’t know about that last part. 

CJ silently stewed in all of this when you led him by the hand to find your friend and current dormmate, Joey.

“Hey! Glad you could make it,” she said with her wide, doe brown eyes and a too-bright smile.

You gave her a quirking look when you hugged her in greeting. She smelled like vodka and orange juice, but you’d never known Joey to go too hard in the paint with her liquor.

She gave your companion a little wave. “Hey, CJ!”

“Hey,” he nodded with a smile.

“You guys want something to drink?” she asked, gesturing to the row of liquor bottles and various chasers behind her on the kitchen counter. You internally paused for a moment, glancing at your boyfriend, but you turned back to Joey with a smile.

“Yeah, Diet Coke would be great,” you said.

CJ gave you a curious look, but he asked for the same. Joey bobbed her head before she went to pour the drinks into some plastic cups.

CJ leaned in near your ear. “Sweetheart, you’re allowed to drink. You know I’ve been to parties before.”

In fact, you and CJ had met at a club party. One where Audrey had been led up to some guy’s room while she was drunk, and CJ had all but broken down the door to get her out for you and Jen.

“I know, I just don’t feel like doing alcohol tonight,” you told him.

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. You just didn’t want to risk making CJ even more uncomfortable than he likely already was, being near Pacey. You’d asked Joey to talk to him for you—a plea for him to not try and kill your boyfriend.

And there your esteemed host was, coming over now.

“Heyyyy, good thinking,” said Pacey. He went over to Joey’s side when she turned to hand you and CJ your drinks. He grabbed another cup to pour one for himself. 

“Hey, man,” CJ greeted politely. His hands were in his pockets, trying to mask his stiffness.

Pacey hesitated, taking note of CJ, but the beat of tension broke between the two men when Pacey graciously stuck out a hand.

“Hey. Good to see ya…not with my girlfriend,” he quipped with a smile.

CJ’s was a bit more strained, but he gave a wry chuckle along with his handshake. Joey elbowed Pacey in the ribs.

“Ah, what?” he protested. She gave him a firm look, pursing her lips. Then she turned to you and CJ with a smile.

“Hey, you guys have any whiskey?” Jen cut in, as she sidled up to Joey. “I’m not so much in a beer mood, but whiskey I could do. Maybe it’s the burn I’m craving—”

She stopped short when she saw you and CJ. Her smile thinned.

“Oh! Hey, there,” she said.

CJ offered her nod, but his insides tightened. He watched you brighten and give Jen a hug that the other woman couldn’t easily reciprocate. Jen’s eyes were on him, even while she hugged you.

You and Joey then broke off to catch up for a bit (CJ encouraged you to it), while Pacey went back to watching a football game on the mega-sized TV with Jack. CJ was about to join them when Jen’s voice stopped him.

“You guys look good together,” she said. She had a glass of whiskey in her hand and a small smile on her face. Her blonde hair was shorter now, cut just below her ears. Her black halter-style dress suited her.

But she wasn’t you.

CJ smiled more genuinely. “Thanks.”

Jen was a good person. He was still sorry that he hurt her, but he wasn’t sorry for choosing you.

You were happy to see CJ hanging out with his friend David, along with Jack and Pacey and some other guys from school. Meanwhile, you had the chance to catch up with Joey and Jen.

Maybe it would give you a chance to mend this weird rift of distance that had seemed to come between you and Jen in recent weeks.

You didn’t know where it came from, but you genuinely admired Jen as a person. She was smart, and she always spoke her mind and stuck to her principles. That was something you wish you had more of in yourself.

Now, she was a bit quiet while sipping her whiskey. Joey made up for it, with a kind of giggle-snort you'd never heard come out of her mouth before. You raised a brow, despite your smile.

"Yes, Josephine?" you teased.

"Sorry," she waved a dismissive hand. "Just remembered something. Like the fact that I really like vodka. I mean, it's clear, almost tasteless, so it's almost like drinking water, you know?"

You and Jen shared an amused look.

"Sure, that's what it's like," you said.

Joey's eyes went wide then. She leaned in close to you, leaning on your shoulder.

"Oh. Don't drink champagne though," she said, while eyeing Jen. She "whispered" loud enough to be heard over the music, and also hurt your left ear. "She once killed a girl with champagne."

Jen's mouth fell open incredulously. Your eyes went as wide as Joey's. This was some serious “girl time.”

"Wait, what?" you said.

Jen looked at her empty glass. "Well, would you look at that? Right on time."

She escaped to the kitchen to refill her tumbler, but you and Joey followed her; you out of morbid curiosity, and Joey because she too wanted more vodka than orange juice in her plastic cup.

Jen gave you a smirk as she filled up her glass.

"Don't worry, you're all safe. This is Jameson," she said.

You emitted some nervous laughter and leaned on the kitchen counter, trying to figure out where the joke was here. How the hell do you kill a girl with champagne?

“So are you sure you don’t want an actual drink?” Jen asked, gesturing at your soda.

“Oh, no. I’m fine,” you held up a dismissive hand.

“You sure?” Pacey said, coming up from behind your little group to find a beer. “I got your boyfriend a vodka soda. I can get you one too.”

Your eyes widened, though you tried to hide your alarm, smoothing your hands down your jeans.

“What?” you asked.

Pacey paused. He’d caught the surprise flitting across your face. “What?”

“Um…” Your hesitation came from trying to process information in record time. You looked over and saw CJ with David. Your boyfriend was indeed holding a different cup.

You returned your attention to Pacey. His brows were raised. Joey looked confused as well, while Jen was sipping at her own drink, in a way that hinted that she already knew what you were about to say.

“CJ doesn’t drink,” you explained.

Pacey brows popped higher. “Ah. He’s 21 though, right?”

“Yes, but he’s a recovering alcoholic,” you said with a sigh. You didn’t want to have to say that, telling CJ's business, but you didn’t know how else to explain why you were slightly freaking out.

“Oh…uh, sorry about that,” Pacey said.

“No, it’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it,” you said.

Pacey gave a wan smile and returned to the group around the TV, CJ included. You sighed and turned back to Jen and Joey.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know either,” Joey said.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” you said, shaking your said. “I’ll just check on him, if you guys don’t mind—”

Jen’s glass hit the counter, and she poured herself another whiskey on the rocks.

“By all means, check away,” she said.

“Hey, sorry man. I didn’t know,” Pacey had said to him, with a look on his face that also said:

Sorry you’re a leper. That’s rough buddy.

CJ found himself withdrawing from the rest of the guys, even as the smell of vodka wafted from the solo cup in his hand. He glanced down at it with a short sigh, but he didn’t drink it, even though his hand itched to raise the cup to his lips.

You startled him a little when your hand curled around his arm.

“Hey,” you greeted in a whisper.

“Hey,” he smiled back at you. But the worried look on your face made his smile fall.

“Wanna hang out for a bit?” you asked, nodding at a quieter looking corner of the living room.

CJ waved at David with the hand that held his cup, and he followed you over to the far side of the couch. You sat on its edge, arms crossed, while he found a seat on the sill of a large window.

You pointedly glanced at his cup. “Have you been drinking?”

CJ’s lips pursed. He took in your stance: arms crossed, shoulders tense, lips pursed, eyes deeply concerned and wary.

Are we having fun yet? he thought dryly.

“See, I’d be more inclined to answer that question if you hadn’t lured me over here under false pretenses,” he remarked. Though he did set the cup down beside him on the windowsill.

“What false pretenses?” you asked, your brows furrowing.

“You don’t want to be with me. You want to check up on me,” he pointed out. “You’re looking at me like an inmate who got loose in the psych ward.”

You frowned then. “That’s not true. I’m just wondering why you would take an alcoholic beverage from Pacey.”

“Your friend offered me a drink. It seemed rude to say no, so…” CJ glanced down at his hands in his lap. Your head tilted in concern.

“CJ…” you sighed. “Why the hell would you ruin your sobriety over something like that?”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” he replied flatly.

“Oh really?” you said. Your lips pursed in irritation.

“I just didn’t want to get into it with a stranger,” CJ said, throwing up a hand. “But thanks for telling him that I don’t drink. Now he’s apologizing to me like I’m dying or something.”

A sharper sigh fell from your lips. “I told you we didn’t have to come here. I didn’t want to make you feel pressured to—”

“Again, you know this isn’t my first house party,” he said.

“Yeah, I know it’s not. So why? Why did this happen tonight?” you asked. “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been so disciplined with yourself. You have a set of rules, and you follow them.”

“Yeah, well, did it ever occur to you that maybe I realized that I was too strict on myself?” he said. “That maybe we wouldn’t even be together if I didn’t bend those rules?”

Your mouth fell open incredulously, a bit of anger sparking your blood. He knew he shouldn't have said that. It just kind of flew out of his mouth, immediately sparking his guilt.

“Okay,” you snipped. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be bending those rules at all if this is where it leads.”

CJ's lips pursed. “What, because I’ve been sitting here, spending the last hour debating whether or not to take a drink?”

He gestured at the cup beside him. 

Your eyes blinked wider, with even more surprise, and a heavy dose of confusion.

“Wait, what? Are you telling me that you haven’t been drinking tonight?” you asked.

“Is that going to magically change all the conclusions you just jumped to?” CJ retorted.

You closed your eyes with a sharp, exasperated sigh. When you opened them again, you frowned at him.

“Uh, yeah!” you exclaimed. "Of course it does, CJ!"

“Well, it doesn’t work that way,” he said. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it. Fine. Just like I’ve been trying to find some normalcy with you here. But apparently you find that wildly insulting.”

He was getting wildly defensive right now. You sort of saw where he was coming from, but it was still frustrating. You held a hand to your chest as your heart raced with the force of your relief.

“Look, I’m sorry for assuming. I’m just…I was worried about you,” you said honestly. “I knew coming here might be stressful for you—”

“I can handle stress,” CJ said. “What I can’t handle is you looking at me like I’m a powder keg waiting to explode.”

You raised up placating hands as you glared at him.

“Fine,” you said. “Sorry for being concerned about my boyfriend. I’ll try to curb that behavior in the future.”

At that, CJ’s frustration and anger simmered down, swiftly followed by more guilt.

You got up and blinked quickly, like you were fighting tears as you shook your head. You aimed to get by him, but he got off the windowsill and went for your hand. There was no drunk excuse for his behavior now.

No, this one was all him.

“Hey,” he said, in a softer voice. He looked down at you with softer eyes too. He could see now that you didn’t mean to make him feel less than, like you had to watch him so he wouldn’t mess up in front of your friends. No, you were just genuinely worried about his wellbeing. 

You looked up at him warily. He held your hand more securely in his.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I am,” he said, when he noted your raised brow. “I’m really grateful that you care about me. That you’re concerned about me. But I’ve been dealing with this for a long time. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be yourself either, even when we’re out here in the wild.”

A small smile twitched at your lips. You held his hand back.

“Out in the wild, huh?” you quirked a brow. CJ smiled back and brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“I just need you to trust me a little more,” he said.

You nodded, smiling when his forehead gently rested against yours. The ends of his hair tickled between your brows.

“Okay, I’m sorry too,” you said. “Next time I won’t be so quick on the draw.”

You leaned up for a kiss. CJ met you there, sweetly at first. Then he tilted his head and deepened the angle of his lips moving against yours.

“Ooh save that for later,” Joey said, loudly from behind you.

It made you jolt in CJ’s arms. You turned your head and met your friend with a wide-eyed look of confusion. She held an empty wine bottle in her hand and waggled mischievous brows.

“Come on, let’s play.”

You really couldn’t believe that Joey was making you all play Spin the Bottle. For you, it was the stuff of awkward middle school horror stories of the highest form. She’d roped in you and CJ, Jen, Jack, Pacey and their roommate Emma, and Gus, a gross looking guy who was apparently her "fiancé" of some sort. 

Gus took the first turn, and got creative with it—giving Joey a nice lick on the cheek.

That’s what you get for making us play this dumbass game, you thought as you laughed.

Joey ended up giving Jack a sweet kiss, followed by him and Emma sharing a little lip-lock, and even Emma and Jen giggling as they came together for a peck.

But when it was Jen’s turn, the wine bottle spun, and spun…and landed on CJ. A chorus of “ooohs” came from the others.

You felt yourself bristle internally. It’s just a game, you reminded yourself. Just a stupid, stupid game.

You patted CJ’s knee and tried to school your face into amusement.

“You’re up, babe,” you said.

He looked a bit uncomfortable when he met your eyes, and then Jen’s. She wore a smile, though she was a little absent in the eyes. She’d been pounding hard liquor pretty much all night.

“All right, CJ. Let’s get this over with,” she teased.

He let out a subtle breath through his nose, but he uncurled his arm from around you so that he could lean over to meet Jen across the circle. Instead of the light peck that he was aiming for, she surprised him by taking his face in her hands and giving him a kiss deep enough to make him taste the burn of whiskey.

He parted from her with a flinch. His eyes blinked wide. A quick glance around the circle told him he wasn’t the only one who was surprised, but you were the only one he cared about. He settled back next to you and felt guilty for your muted disbelief, even though he wasn’t the real perpetrator here.

CJ frowned hard at Jen. She just smiled and crossed her arms around her legs, head bobbing to the tune of the alt rock music playing.

“Damn, Jen,” Pacey said, laughing uncomfortably. “That’s some dedication to the game.”

You were still shocked into stillness. You knew Jen was a bit deep into the bottle, but was she really drunk enough to try and make out with your boyfriend in front of you?

Joey finally dropped her hands from her face (she’d been watching the scene through the cracks in her fingers). She gave you an apologetic look. She was very effing drunk as well, you knew, but not make out with your boyfriend in front of you—drunk.

You finally looked over at CJ, not knowing who you should be more irritated with: Jen for sticking her tongue down his throat, or CJ for letting her.

“It’s your turn, bro,” Gus said. Not that he cared about whoever CJ landed on. He just wanted the chance to kiss another one of the girls. Preferably Emma.

CJ shook his head. “I don’t think I—”

“Go ahead,” you said. Your tone was a challenge, as were your crossed arms, and the tight expression on your face. “It’s just a game, right?”

That last part, you aimed at Jen. She finally had enough self-awareness to avert her drunken gaze. Your teeth were grinding.

Though you had to pause when you realized where CJ’s spun bottle had landed: right on you.

“Aw, well that’s good,” Joey said, with a nervous laugh that broke some of the tension in this little circle.

CJ let out a subtle breath of relief himself. But this was a whole new challenge as he met your steely gaze. He tried to give you a smile.

Your eyes fell. So with a small sigh, he gently took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up to him, just before he leaned in to kiss you.

He plied you softly at first. His lips dragged against yours in a slow, lingering kiss. Then he angled his head away from the circle, away from prying eyes as he brushed his tongue across your lower lip, seeking entrance. You inhaled deeply, and you couldn’t help but let him in.

You uncrossed your arms and found his cheek with your hand. Your fingers soon delved into his hair, nails lightly scraping the back of his neck. He barely restrained a shudder.

“Ah, okay then,” Pacey muttered.

When you parted from CJ, your heart was racing, and there was a fire in your belly that you could see reflected in his eyes.

“I’m a little thirsty, you wanna…” he trailed. You nodded and let him help you off the ground where you all had been sitting.

CJ’s arm once again wrapped around your waist, and he led you into the first bedroom he could find. The door shut against the blaring music, the sounds of laughter and stories and dumb middle school games.

Until all that was left was you and CJ, and the sounds of quick breaths, clothes hitting the floor, and skin against skin.

“I’m sorry about earlier. With the game,” CJ later said. “Jen took me by surprise.”

Much later, where you were tangled up in his arms and the sheets, both of you mostly naked and tucked under the covers. You felt bad that you didn’t even know whose bedroom this was.

Jack’s maybe? You could only hope so. That would probably be the least awkward situation if you two were caught in here.

But at CJ’s question, your blissful mood of moments before was wiped away. Your face dropped into a frown. You turned in his arms so that you could see his face, resting your head on his arm.

“Yeah, what the hell was that with Jen?” you asked.

CJ soothed a hand up and down your arm. He knew it was time for him to come clean with you, even though he knew it might make you look at him differently. He could only hope that it wouldn’t.

“Before you and I started talking, dating—well, you know what happened with me and Audrey,” he said, expelling a breath of regret. “Before then, Jen had feelings for me.”

Your eyes widened. By now you could’ve guessed that Jen wanted your boyfriend, but you had no idea it had started way back then. CJ looked you in the eyes.

“I just didn’t feel the same way,” he said. “Then Audrey and I happened, just the one night. But Jen…I know I hurt her, and I felt terrible. I still feel bad about that, because I never meant to hurt her. I just thought Audrey and I had a connection.”

“And then Pacey,” you supplied, realizing where this story was headed. A fight between Pacey and CJ. Audrey left for rehab in California. And Jen was left to nurse her wounded pride and hurt feelings…especially when you and CJ began for real.

You closed your eyes on a sigh. This explained why she’d been so frigid to you lately.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” CJ said. “I didn’t want to come between you guys, or hurt her more by pursuing another one of her friends…I just couldn’t help falling for you.”

At that admission, you softened. You caressed CJ’s cheek, and you brought him down to you for a kiss. Again, it was slow and unhurried, yet no less passionate.

Your lips parted from his first, so you could meet his eyes.

“I’ll talk to Jen,” you said. “But…I’m glad I fell for you too.”

You and CJ shared a quiet moment then, each of you processing, hands intertwined. It had you thinking about everything he said tonight, even before the game. 

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it. Fine,” he’d said. “Just like I’ve been trying to find some normalcy with you here. But apparently you find that wildly insulting.”

You sighed and squeezed his hand. It was comfortably trapped between his bare chest and yours.

“Just for the record, you don’t have to be ‘normal’ for me, or be what you think I want around my friends. Just be you,” you said, meeting his green-eyed gaze. “I do trust you, CJ. I trust that you want to be with me, and that you have a handle on yourself.”

CJ smiled ruefully. He ran his thumb across the back of your hand.

“You were right though. The truth is I did get a little nervous tonight,” he said. “Being here, seeing Pacey…it brought up all that drama again. I took that vodka soda from him, and I was thinking about drinking it.”

“But you didn’t,” you said firmly. “Because you’re strong. Stronger than anyone I know.”

CJ looked down at your hand joined with his, at your face, set with honesty and vehemence. You seemed to believe every word of what you were saying. That alone made him feel strong.

“Thanks,” he said with a smile.

It hadn’t been all that long, but he knew this felt right. It always felt right with you.

You smiled back at him and leaned up for a sweeter kiss.  

“Thank you for bending your own rules for me,” you teased.

CJ chuckled. He stroked your cheek and pressed another kiss to your forehead.

“You’re my one exception,” he said.   

AN: As frustrated as CJ made me at times, somehow he weasels his way back into my heart. 😂💗 If you enjoyed this, let me know!

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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#One Exception #Good Morning Sequel #dawsons creek #CJ Braxton #CJ Braxton x reader #CJ Braxton x female reader #CJ Braxton x you #CJ Braxton fics #jensen ackles characters #jensen ackles #CJ x reader #CJ x you #jen lindley #pacey witter #joey potter #dawsons creek fanfiction #CJ Braxton fanfiction #dawson's creek #zepskies writes

[loneliestluvr]

𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 — 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 2

part 1. part 2.

pairing: eris vanserra x archeron oc

synopsis: Caught up in a world of hollow grief for her people, her life, and her father, Blair Archeron is forced into a life under the light she wants no part of after ghosting through immortality since being Made. But what she finds, is not what she expects.

warnings: should have added this in the last one but talking/thinking about loss of pregnancy, being controlled + used, angst, lots of description but Blair gets her lick back a bit 😛 this is also a bit of a slow burn

word count: 2.8k

taryn thinks: so this is gonna be a series and im just kinda holding its hand and letting it guide me rn, i have no planned ending at all or any idea where this is going. bear with me pookies and remember how attracted Feyre was to Rhys without knowing he was her mate please and thank you 🙏🏼

“Eris,” Rhysand’s voice boomed in that firm High Lord tone he only ever used outside of the River House— Blair had only ever heard it once and not ever directed at her. It was that same day and argument Nesta had told Feyre about the threat to her life, to the babe’s life in her womb, when Rhys’ power had exploded and grew so loud and angry Blair had covered her ears and closed her eyes.

Eris. The name rung in her head as her brother-in-law spoke it and her mouth moved before she could think as she tested it silently on her own tongue. Eris.

The second eldest Archeron still hadn’t brought herself to tear her gaze from the male—Eris—before her, taking in every inch of his face. Every muscle ticking in his jaw. Eris’s eyes followed her mouth as she traced his name with her lips and then he finally looked away. As if he couldn’t handle looking another minute.

“This is Feyre’s second oldest sister, Blair.” Rhys continued, and something like panic lit his every word. “She is beautiful, isn’t she?”

But it was almost muffled— the sound of his voice, the music and chatter behind them. Blair’s hands still neatly folded in front of her as she stood there, like there was nothing else in that marble room but her and Eris.

“Divine.” The red haired male murmured and by the way Rhys’ brows shot up just slightly, Blair figured the male wasn’t ever one for so little words.

The sound of his voice washed through her, the heat of her skin only intensifying as it echoed through her ears. She could hear her blood thrumming through her with it, like just this nearness had her body boiling. A sense she couldn’t describe pulling to him.

“Likewise.” The word was out before she could control it, like her inhibitions overtook all.

What is it that you feel, bright one? A cold, unnatural, and otherworldly voice spoke in her head. The same as always when the smoke cleared. Feminine, if Blair could tell— speaking to her as she was sucked back out of her body and it swallowed whatever words were working up her throat. Pulled right back into that unintentional irreverence. You do feel it, I can tell. Pushing me back, for this? For him— for what lurks under?

“I’m sorry for my tardiness,” Blair said, voice vacant. It was some part of their plan, but Blair had been instructed to follow along. Some quiet tucked away part of her, far in the forest of her mind, began to piece information together.

Things she’d learned simply by sitting and listening, and nobody cared about talking in front of the mute immortal who would sooner die than participate in politics or anything relating to the fae realm.

At least that’s what she thought of herself, nobody would say it. Even if that’s what she knew they were thinking. Even if it wasn’t entirely true.

Blair listened, mindlessly and absently, but what else was she to do when she sat in the quiet of her own mind day after day under something else’s control?

She tilled the soil of her mind, planting and working and tending as she sat and listened. Took in every piece of information that seemed so little to whatever she had become after, tucking it away and into her pocket.

But she never participated, couldn’t seem to ever make her mouth move. Could only sit and look out the window as everyone moved around her.

“Nonsense, sister.” Feyre smiled lovingly, the image of a shining star with the way her barely there gown accentuated her growing belly. “You’ve come just in time.”

As if on cue, a soft melodic music that sounded like the forest’s calm embrace started playing. Forest’s that Feyre and her had frequented in the summers when the younger of them was just hitting maturity, welcoming and lovely. Soft and slow, serene. A moment of peace in a world of pain and anger.

Blair took another breath and turned her head to the dance floor, it was her again this time as she spoke so softly it was almost unheard, “I love this type of music.”

“You’d like to know, Eris, that Blair is of the same talent our dear sister Nesta possesses. One that you seem so keen on having her hand in marriage because of.” Feyre says, but Blair’s eyes remain glued to the floor of people dancing so slowly. Seamless in their waltzing, her body almost began moving by itself— fighting every muscle in her to stay present in conversation as she slowed back into her body.

A rage filling some now faraway part of her, screaming and clawing and fighting to push her back again.

But this moment, this day, had been the most lucid she had felt in over a year— like she was waking up and blinking the fog away. Blair could hear clearly, and think, she could see from her own eyes, she was herself then. She was her own.

The reveal of another Archeron sister was not something that Eris had anticipated for. Certainly not something he’d prepared for, he had never let himself become so raw in front of anyone, let alone those of the Night Court.

One look at her… one gaze into those amber flecked eyes and his entire mask had shattered. For a minute too long he had just… stared at her.

Blair. The name danced around in his head, he could see it scripted on pages with a light hand. Those delicate fingers dragging the quill into a mess of curls and lines, her beautiful name printed in his mind. Blair.

“I’m almost certain at this point only beauty comes of your family, if Nesta was that graceful on the floor I can only imagine any of her sisters being equally as talented.” He said without another second, gaze now fixed wholly on the High Lady of the Night Court despite the pounding of his heart in his ears.

“Nesta continues to be… occupied.” Feyre added, almost ignoring any of his ploying compliments and Eris didn’t miss the whites of Rhysand’s knuckles showing as he clutched the arms of his throne.

And it was true, the Illyrian brute that had swept away his hopeful bride had passed her to the aggravating shadowsinger. Eris would not get her back again, not tonight.

“Perhaps my sister Blair would like to join you in a dance or two?” Feyre said next, the question directed for the female next to him.

Something in his chest felt like it would cave in and Eris thought he could have been floating just being next to her. The soft brown of her hair that went almost to her waist, even with it half up in a mound on the back of her head.

Accentuating those beautiful features under the light, lips pronounced and eyes that guttered all the need for dominance from his soul. His mind screamed: Kneel, kneel before your queen and beg to touch her. To smell and taste and feel, to know.

“Blair?” Feyre’s voice rang through his ears again and Blair had seemed like she was so enamored by the music, by the need to be with it, she hadn’t heard the question her sister asked. Then her head turned back to the thrones on the dais.

“I’m sorry,” She said quickly, furrowing her brow slightly as she tuned back in. “—what was it?”

“Perhaps you would like to join Eris for a dance?” Feyre clarified again and she looked from her sister to him, nearly next to Eris and stared for a moment.

“It’d be my honor to dance with the son of a High Lord.” She said, a small smile blooming on her lips.

By the confusion that seemed to broadcast on the High Lord and Lady’s face, Eris figured that Blair Archeron had secrets of her own. That just maybe, like him, she was undermined and looked over in aspects she shouldn’t be.

Eris stepped closer and offered his arm almost mindlessly, eyes tracing every curve of this smart and quick creature’s face. And Blair took it as that song faded out and the crowd prepared for the next one, the cold of her fingers seeped through the fabric of his tunic sleeve. Icy and bitter despite the warmth that flourished on her cheeks, and she let Eris guide her to the floor.

Blair could breathe. She could feel the race of her pulse, however immortal, she could feel the air on her skin and the warmth beneath Eris’s sleeve as she touched him. It felt like her body was on fire— awake.

Eris Vanserra— High Lord of the Autumn Courts eldest son, she had remembered. It had been like a splash of warm water, it had felt good. Different.

Rhys and Feyre’s ramblings about him, about their trades and need to stand against his father. Their effort to sway him should war find Prythian again, Azriel’s updates as she sat in the living room. Absent.

But that fog had cleared, and here she was. Preparing to dance with him. And everything came back screaming.

It was quiet as they prepared for the song to begin, Nesta and Azriel on the other end of the marble floor.

And then the music began and Eris arm wrapped around Blair until his hand laid on the small of her back, fingers of one hand each entwined as they stared into each others eyes.

It wasn’t that Blair couldn’t think or feel it, but her body moved absently off of memory alone as the dance began. Graceful and smooth, gliding as Eris guided her through the movements.

Spinning and twirling and whirling, she could only look at him as they moved. They did not speak, just danced and eyed each other.

Something charged went through the air between them, the close proximity of their bodies, and Blair wanted to know it as equally as Eris. Wanted to welcome it.

He smelled of spruce and warm honey, mahogany and citrus, flames and burning coals. Blair swallowed it down, drank it in and almost closed her eyes from how strong it was.

The pads of his fingers were rough, felt scarred as they held the small of her back and her own soft fingers. The freckles on his skin were similar to hers but brighter, a hue of ginger rather than her umber shaded spots.

And where he touched, across her waist and now one of her hips, burned.

The feeling like a fire, warm and welcoming and home, spilling into her veins like hot oil. And then Eris was dipping her, their faces a mere inch apart and Blair’s lips parted in a breathy gasp.

His eyes watching those perfect lips, trained on them as they stood like that. Dipped over and under one another, Blair’s leg hooked over his hip like she would fall.

But something in those pointed eyes, cunning and lethal, told her he would never let her go.

“Where have they kept you?” Eris asked finally, and brought her back up to a stand as they began again.

“A female is nothing to be kept.” Blair responded as easily as their dancing continued. Reminding herself of the proper terms fae used. “I have heard of how backwards Autumn can be, though. Perhaps that is your way of thinking?”

“You were not there for the war.” It was not the statement he made it, a rephrase of his first question. And he did not scold her for the jab she shouldn’t have made, supposed to be swaying and wooing but instead bit at him like a ravenous dog. “Nobody talked of a fourth sister.”

“I hadn’t realized I owed my life to the Court’s of Prythian or it’s people.” His hands left her body and trailed to the tips of her fingers as she spun out and when she returned his hold was firmer but he smiled, wicked and beautiful. “What?”

That look in his eyes, she couldn’t place it. And her voice held more venom than she intended, despite how soft and sweet it may have sounded aloud.

“You intrigue me, Blair Archeron.” He said and pushed her out again, her dress spinning out at the bottom as she twirled and came back to him. Pressed against his chest, one hand on the back of his neck and he might have shivered. “Trust the most beautiful of your sisters to be the smartest.”

“We’ve shared mere words, what are you basing my intelligence off of?”

“A feeling.”

“A feeling?” She repeated. He nodded and then she was keenly aware of where his hands were, trailing to the base of her own neck— close enough to be courting. More than that.

“Tell me,” Eris started, beginning a box step procedural that she followed. “—have they tucked you away out of fear of what you could become, or fear of what they could lose?”

“Who’s to say I’m not the one who chooses to stay away?” Eris’s eyes glittered with a need to know, like he wanted into her mind to see all of that intrinsic astuteness shrouded by firs and spruce. “Who’s to say I wanted to be a part of this life at all?”

“I offered to give them armies in exchange for your sisters hand and they bring you in.” He states as the song comes to an end and another starts. A rapid tempo, fast and harsh. Mostly string instruments, dramatic. “Why?”

“I was late,” Blair corrects, one hand holding the back of his neck as the other is gripped in his. Larger, muscled, and firmer than Blair’s delicate, soft, and teasing hand. “—you must be a terrible listener.”

Amusement lit Eris’s eyes as he held an arm around her waist, fingers brushing her ribs.

“Did they keep you away because of your mouth, then?” He crooned, their bodies moving seamlessly to the upbeat music. Stepping and spinning all at once, matched with the other pairs of dancers on the floor.

“What of my mouth?”

“What of it, indeed.” He smiled, eyes flicking to the rich ridges of her garnet colored lips. Blair’s cheeks heated and for the first time her eyes flicked away from his face. Anywhere but him as they landed on Azriel and she almost breathed in relief when she found that his eyes were already on hers.

A silent question in them and Blair blinked softly in response.

“Would you believe me if I said the second I saw you, I forgot about Nesta completely?” Eris whispered into her ear, lips brushing against the hair that curled there. So close she could feel the heat of his breath, like a flame licking her skin.

She cursed the part of her that wanted to feel that heat in other places and shoved it down. She looked back to Eris, noses nearly touching with the proximity this dance required.

“And what if I am already spoken for?”

Questions, so many questions with him. And Blair just fed them back as if the answers were in the questions themselves, a proper response unneeded.

“Are you?” His brows raised.

“No.”

It was simple, nothing further needed and she didn’t understand why she cared to tell a male she had met mere minutes ago that she was available. The first other than Rhys, Lucien, Azriel, Cassian and the blonde male she had set her eyes on since coming here. Since being forced here.

“They must do it to you all then.” Eris said, smile fading into a tighter one as he saw that look in Blair’s eyes. “Dwindle your flame, drown it out, waste you.”

“My sister and her mate have been gracious to me in my… adjustment. I have nothing to complain about, and certainly nothing to waste.”

Eris shook his head so barely as they spun Blair almost didn’t catch it, disbelief in every beautiful crook of his utterly handsome face.

“All of you is wasted, my dear Blair. They are blind if they cannot see what lives inside of you, your fire, whatever that power is and whatever you are now.”

Perhaps it was because Blair didn’t even know what was inside of her, why her chest warmed on its own for the first time in over a year just now, but she didn’t say another word.

When the music ended, she bowed before Eris as any graceful courtier would— a dismissal on her part before she stepped back and allowed for him to bow in return.

But he did not, and only stared at her as if he couldn’t—wouldn’t—bring himself to say goodbye. We are not done playing, Blair Archeron, was what his eyes added as Azriel swept her from the floor and the room all together.

His eyes followed her the whole way and that cold returned as soon as she left his line of sight.

🏷️: @prythianpages @impossibelle @readychilledwine

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra x oc #eris vandaddy #autumn court #night court #Rhysand #blair archeron #feyre archeron #pro nesta #nesta archeron #Cassian #lord of bloodshed #Azriel #elain archeron #a court of silver flames #acosf #it’s manorian on another life lol #me when i have no idea where im going with this #errrmmmmm

[nonokoko13]

Me when the first coherent thought I have in the morning is that Grim was either abandoned or his biological parents died and the only family he has ever known are three ghosts everyone was afraid of so everybody left them alone for centuries and a human who doesn't belong who doesn't entirely fit there just like them so they were all alone until they found each other.

Ghosts tied to a space which is unsure whether they can leave or not and a human who may have somebody waiting them back home and may leave with no chance of return. Who can't take Grim with them because where they come from things such as fantasy creatures and magic only exist in fairytales so he'd either live hidden from the world or in danger of being treated as a monster and experimented on because when faced with what it's new and different the world reacts with anger and fear and want to control it and tear it apart until nothing it was before is left.

He doesn't know or understand this but MC does and that's why they would have to leave him behind. His dream of studying magic and be the greatest mage wouldn't come true on Earth, that's the reason they would tell him. It's true even though it's not the main reason why. But Grim would understand they just don't want to stay with him and prefer to leave and forget him because if they did love him they would stay.

Then again he could try to dig up in his origins and find his first family but what if time travel exists and MC from a previous timeline was who gave him the ribbon, his first gift and only possession before arriving at NRC? Meaning MC was the person his world revolved around before he even knew who they were and there was no other family he had.

Doubting the trouble squad has ever have a heart to heart conversation about Grim and MC's fates if or when they depart either because they have forgotten or pretend they aren't aware but deep down Ace and Deuce and all of MC friends know but prefer to keep ignoring it instead of confront their feelings. Grim and Malleus being the only ones who may have never think of it until the moment arrives nor accept it. Just like young children who believe their parents, their pillars, their everything that makes them feel safe, would always be there until death knocks at their door. Because MC have friends and a home in Twisted Wonderland and they need them so why would they leave?

They know MC keeps searching a way home and wondering if their loved ones misses them as much as they do and how much time have passed on their planet without knowing MC wishes they could have it all so they didn't have to choose between their previous family and the one they found there. And neither Grim or Malleus won't admit they know because thinking of it brings back the feeling of abandonment and losing everything that make them feel completed.

But the prince will have both Silver and Sebek and his grandmother for the rest of their lives with him once he returns home, people who was there from the beginning. Time to grow with them and accept they'll leave too. Everyone will graduate and go home and except special occasions each one will go their own path.

Grim will stay with somebody else but it won't be the same for him because he already had a family he wanted to keep together and failed to do so and without the dorm ghosts and MC the only thing left for him is the wound he carried before finding them opened once again that will remember him that nobody in this world can stay by his side forever so he'll stay and search a way to reunite with MC again and wonder if they miss him as much as he does and wishing MC have had everyone they loved in twst so they didn't have to choose or if they had to they had chosen him instead in the end and thinking of how all the future plans they shared and promises they made of growing old together were empty and the words that made him happy about how they loved him now hurt and they failed him and he failed to have everything he wanted and they left they left and he's thinking of them even after promising himself he wouldn't anymore a lie just like theirs and he's crying again and it hurts it hurts and

#twisted wonderland #twst grim #twst book 7 spoilers #I think. probably. the reference is there even if it was unintentional that comparison #sometimes I wish I wasn't a sentient being able to think so I didn't have to imagine things like this #it could have just ended in the first paragraph but noooooo keep adding salt you mf #why do I register thoughts and create scenarios and process emotions WHY #twst angst #this is biased because he my baby and I love him but the thought of never seeing my irl friends and some of my relatives would destroy me #so would it be leaving him tho #also the narrative is altered in some parts because I imagined it as how I believe Grim would think there #if you want to call it narrative #because to me this is a long ass rant about thoughts that ran me over like the black carriage to every mc so far #does anybody knows how to undo scenarios in your head #pass me the bleach #to me Grim has the emotion management and matureness of a child: Still working on it and easily fucked over traumatic shit like mc leaving #if it needs tw or anything let me know

[ven7s]

love stored in decorations

— scaramouche x gn!reader ; wc. .5k; genre fluff, hurt-comfortish?, modern!au, non-canon information + headcanons

notes. implication/mention of neglectful parents (ei & yae) and lonely childhood. business women yae and ei because i think thats very sexy of them !!! also also idk i kinda hate this but like the CONCEPT of it, just dont like the way i executed it

"hmm... move it to the left a bit more."

scaramouche lets out a huff but does as you say, moving the fake icicles to where you want it before you shout, "wait, sorry, just a little to the right."

he scowls to himself before looking back at you with a grumpy frown that elicits an apologetic smile out of you. but nevertheless, he moves the icicles once again, much to his annoyance.

he climbs down the ladder and you hurry to hold it, wrapping your arm around his waist once he's finally on the ground, and he does the same back.

you marvel at your house, but not long after you hear scaramouche grumbling, complaining about how cold it is and how he doesn't get why you two have to do this every year.

"because it's nice to see our house decorated. doesn't it make you feel cozy and more… holidayish? besides the kids around the neighborhood like it!"

he scoffs, but you know he acknowledges your words when he starts to grab the string lights out of the box of decorations. you smile and go to hold the ladder again as scaramouche climbs up to further adorn the house.

he gets your reasoning.

he looks back at his childhood, often recalling the memories of him walking back home from school only to see the houses that lined his street filled to the brim with decorations ranging from lights on bushes to huge inflatables and candy canes hanging from rooves.

his favorite was always yoimiya’s, whose parents always went all out, every year.

then he remembers his house. big, but empty, with no air of that fond and nostalgic feeling that holidays so often filled people with.

he knows that his moms are back in japan, attending to their work, ei and yae being far too busy with their businesses to worry about decorating the house for a holiday that only lasts for a month.

he remembers holidays often just being him and his nanny with a letter sent to him from his moms. a few short sentences of "happy holidays! sorry we couldn't make it this year again.. next year for sure! we miss you!"

so, when you first “forced” him to decorate your shared home with you he obliged, albeit a bit annoyed. now, he still feels annoyed, hating the coldness of winter, but he reminds himself that the end result will be worth it, hoping that other kids would feel the joy and warmth he felt as a kid, like he felt when he looked at yoimiya’s.

(and of course, he would never admit it, but he actually finds himself having fun. reliving his childhood dream of decorating the house during the season that filled him with so much dread as a kid with a loved one.)

its all the reason why he’s outside in the frosty weather that indicates the start of december in his rudolph pajamas (matching with your santa pajamas), hanging up ornaments and lights.

once he comes down again, you smile, “it looks great. thanks for the help,” kissing scaramouche on the cheek before leaning your head on his shoulder.

“yeah,” he hums, “it looks nice.”

a/n: HAPPY HOLIDAYS !!!! hope everyone stays safe !!

#ok but imagine how easy it would be to decorate for holidays in canon genshin with scaramouche LIKE? he could literally just float up LMFAOO #anyways #scaramouche is def healing his inner child #even though it may seem a bit dramatic hes healing himself by decorating the house fs #i hc that in modern au genshin he was neglected emotionally because of how often yae and ei would be busy and bc they stayed back in japan #and i think it was unintentional on their part but even if it was unintentional if still affected scara A LOT #like they thought it was the best choice because they were supporting themselves financially that way but for scaramouche it sucked because #all he ever really wanted was to have a connection with ei and yae even if it was one dinner together as a family #so hes like reliving that joy as an adult with you yk #its small but meaningful idk its cute to me shut up #(also headcanon that scara and yoi would be absolute bffs) #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche angst #+🪼

[chirpsythismorning]

PSA editors: PLEASE stop flipping Mike’s monologue in the shed scene horizontally to match it with the lighting of Mike’s monologue in the Surfer Boy scene. Because what you’re doing is removing an entire layer of subtext regarding where Mike’s heart truly lies, which was in part being conveyed by which side of his face was lit in both of those scenes. Left side of Mike’s face lit = where his heart truly lies vs. Left side of Mike’s face hiding in the shadows = his heart is conflicted. Aka shed scene in s2 vs. Surfer Boy scene in s4. The choice to make those scenes back to back for a transition in an edit isn’t the problem, in fact it is the work of pure genius. Which is why I can’t stand by anymore and keep letting this happen without saying something.

#byler #I just witnessed the most beautiful edit in my life #like it doesn’t even matter that it did this exact thing bc it is stunning #but also #they deserve to know that their edit removed byler evidence from mike's monologue to will in the shed #at the expense of trying to match with the style of mike's monologue to el in surfer boy #my skin is crawling just thinking about it #like its 100% unintentional on their part obviously #and not serious whatsoever #bc obviously it's an aesthetic choice to make the transition smoother #and it works like it looks awesome #and yet still i feel it is my duty to inform

[hanzajesthanza]

you guys… we did it!!!

just wanted to thank you everyone for being a part of this blog… “big things to come soon”

#i am proud and happy about it because this blog came from my moving blogs in 2021 #and on my past blog i had about 1000 followers so it’s like i finally regained that reach #which i’m specifically excited by because this blog (contrary to my previous one) is ONLY about the witcher books with no n*tflix talk #like ik ohhh ‘you are a fandom blog you have no rights’ but it makes me happy that we’re all gathered here together for the same thing :) #i don’t think fandom has to be an inherently toxic or immature space i think it can be a meaningful place of discussion and participation #the elbow-high diaries #updates #it’s kind of an interesting thing the witcher books fandom in english in the 2020s i am really very curious where it goes from here #it’s interesting to me because it’s such a specific and unique situation of media spread #it’s not like the witcher is unpopular or indie—it’s extremely popular. a mass pop culture phenomenon #at the same time the english-speaking (and in my case specifically american) fandom is primarily built around tw3 and then now n*tflix #even if the books were read and successful in the english market i mean they did not have the same kind of cultural impact #so it’s particularly of interest to me to boost visibility and yes indeed—fandom—conversation around the witcher books #and for me i like thinking through what that looks like— #an english-speaking (including not limited to american) fandom without anglifying or americanizing it #or at the very least *trying* to not anglify or americanize it. because some amount of it is unintentional yet necessary (i.e. translation) #but even in translation for example. the kind of translation and how it’s gone about. there is potential for cultural learning and #the most faithful translations will not make total sense so as the readers you go and look for that context and learn something #all part of a larger discussion and i kind of got lost typing these tags but this is why this milestone is special to me #it shows that people are interested in what this blog posts about and that means we have a future to explore

[oathofkaslana]

also. Hm. tbh'es. the idea of putting such ridiculous standards for what someone who wasnt a bigot would actually do is kinda. extremely fucking awful for anyone struggling w moral ocd lol.

#believe it or not. fandom 'activism'* is a very small part of yk. activism. and isnt very indicative of your #morals at the very end of the day. #personal #edit: *by this i meant a type of 'activism' that was a lot more concerned w semantics than actual activism #of course activism trickles down to every aspect of your life! #i'm just saying that these semantic-defined activism aren't indicative of your genuine morals #and can often be harmful to activist movements #<- ie: spreading this simplified idea that absolutely anyone who has prefers male characters over female characters is a misogynst #obv it can definitely be indicative of some misogynstic beliefs (even if unintentional or small) #the thing is i know its simplified!! i highly doubt anyone genuinely thinks like that!! #but when you spread that simplified idea around so many young children who want to do good but don't exactly know better #will get wrapped up in the semantics of it!!!! #which leads to activist causes being watered down to a pass fail litmus test that isn't actually effective

[picory]

ahhh so many adapted scenes in the anime don't have the same kick as the original ones... how do i say this. they lack a certain edge?

#in the manga panel he looks really pissed off! and menacing! #in the anime it's more subtle. subdued #i guess in a way. it fits shigeo. he is holding back his emotions so as not to go berserk with his powers... #but i like to think that these more ''edgy'' expressions are unintentional on mob's part #like. he's not always aware that he makes faces that might send a wrong message to others #although in this specific context that expression certainly makes sense lol #does that make sense? i'm awful with words #quacks #continuing my reread and rewatch... #i'm also writing down notes in the notes app for fun 👍 #it also helps in remembering things... even those that may seem unforgettable

[crehador]

winter 2024 first impressions: ishura

and so we ring in the new year with some beautiful doomed yuri that lasts only until a weird guy appear

typical

i picked this one up for the cast (romi park my beloved please arrive soon) and it's off to an alright start imo. the fight sequences were pretty good, visually, but the soundtrack didn't blow me away—and i really wish it did. the ost wasn't bad or anything, but if it had stood out more to me, i feel like it would have elevated the action scenes as a whole

the premise is remarkably simple so far, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. i often like simple, but it means the series will swim or sink based on its characters (who were mostly only namedropped towards the end of the first episode, so time will tell if they compel me)

one element of the worldbuilding i did like is there are these big mech type 'golems' facing off against humans, some of whom can use magic. exceedingly standard stuff

but then!

you see one of the golems using the same magic humans wield, which was a nice little twist i quite enjoyed. not sure if anything will become of that detail, since it seems like the series is shaping up to be more of a pvp battle royale than a pve humans vs golems type story

(side note this feels like it would make a pretty sick video game)

the weakest part of the first ep, to me, was the pacing. it just felt rushed, but that's mostly understandable since this ep was clearly just set-up for the 'main' plot. i feel like it might have benefited from being an hour-long episode, or maybe all this backstory would have felt more impactful if we saw it later, with the 'main' plot starting in medias res and circling back to this later? idk it wasn't The Worst, i just feel it (the pacing) could have been Better

also content warning for anyone who might need it: there was at least one instance of extremely graphic violence in this first ep, which i anticipate might continue through the series, so heads up on that

tl;dr it's fine so far

#crab watches #ishura #winter 2024 #first impressions #to ramble a bit more on the pacing... #i'm liking where yuno's character wound up by the end of the episode #the ''wow this guy is powerful... kinda want him dead ngl'' vibe is a pleasant surprise #and a nice subversion of the helpless girl companion trope #but i kind of think it would have been an even more impactful 'twist' if we'd gotten a bit more time with her #showing both her peaceful life AND her in the aftermath of the attack on her city #like as is she basically speedran survivor's guilt which is kind of funny but probably in an unintentional way lol #of course her survivor's guilt isn't necessarily something that's completely Resolved already #i thought it was for the most part done quite well! especially when she defeats a golem quite... easily? #and has that moment of anguish over realizing she maybe could have saved her girlfriend #but all that just happened so fast #which is just the natural cost of a 20min episode so i'm not like mad about it per se #just... rambling ok i'm done now tl;dr again it's fine so far

[eyivibyemi]

✧ I won’t really write descriptions for these, but see original post tags for explanation/commentary on the song snippet ✧

#This was literally just off the top of my head improvising words that rhyme (as is obvious from me rhyming the word #'on' with the word.... 'on' (what's going ON my name is ON' etc. lol) but after actually thinking about it this kind of seems a little #sinister?? why is his name on the news? why is he fleeing town? makes me think of of some guy who's killed #someone or is finally getting caught for his crimes so one last stop before he flees town is he returns home to his husband (who he #calls Hummingbird sometimes I guess) and is like 'erm... tee hee.. I can't tell you why but I shall leave. farewell' etc. #also 'I guess I could show you' having a bad implication like.. yeah I COULD show you the dead bodies and evidence of my crimes #but I will spare you from that and simply let you live in ignorance (at least until you see the news at 10.. but I will be long gone by #then.. eating green beans somewhere lol).. ANYWAY.. 100% unintentional but you could actually almost read some sort of meaning #out of this one. until the green beans part ghhbjb.. I try so hard for everything to just be meaningless gibberish #that has no connection but I suppose sometimes a connection can be made. alas.. a perhaps accidentally Dark seeming song snippet #OR alternate theory. uhh... actually his name is on the news for a good reason. he donated all his money to charity and now #he's fleeing town just because he's embarassed to be publicly recognized.. a shy philanthropist OR an evasive murderer #BOTH versions of him like green beans. which is the truth? up to listener interpretation lol.. Also I #still find it immensely funny for some reason to do this lower sounding style of singing. which not that I really care about like having a #Broad Range or something since I don't think it'd even be possible to have one in my position (as someone #with zero musical/vocial training/etc.) BUT because part of what I find fun is like.. experimenting with all different sorts of sounds #and also doing choir type stuff. So then I do want to be able to sound like multiple people.. if that makes sense? I want to have a really #high voice and the a really low voice and have them sing together and it sounds like a duet or something when it's really just one person. #etc. Thus have a passing interest in learning to adopt different singing styles if I can. because then that's funny and I can do a wider #variety of things like it's all different characters or something as if all the song snippets are done by different people or etc. #(maybe just part of the nature of it being experimental). #And the low voice is always the goofiest sounding to me and very 'fake' seeming I guess #like blatantly is just someone putting on an affect or whatever but still in a kind of fun jokey way lol #beepo tag

[spikeshairgel]

Soooo, imagine: in S1 of Good Omens in THAT wall scene, what if not-nina didn't walk in?

Azira: They're murdering each other?!

Crowley: *sighs* no, they aren't. No one's killing anyone, they're all having miraculous escapes... wouldn't be any fun otherwise.

Azira: You know, Crowley, I've always said that deep down you really are quite a nice-

Crows:*wall slam* Shut it! I'm a demon, I'm not nice, I'm never nice, nice is a four letter word. I will not- *groans* I'm a demon, for hells sake, a devilish representation of hell on earth!

Azira:*looking up at him* oh, Crowley, you are, really-

Crows: I'm evil, damn it, angel! *let's go of Aziraphales coat and slams his hands into the wall on either sides of Aziraphales head*

*they are not a breaths length from each other, Aziraphale starring up at Crowley's expression of fury. This position might have been deemed uncomfortable by anyone passing by, but Aziraphale found it rather natural. The skin of their faces almost touching, the somehow normal feeling closeness, the sight of Crowley's nose scrunching in anger.

Crowly hadn't even noticed the way they were standing there, pushed up against a wall of whatever corridor they were in, Crowley didn't remember. The thought didn't cross his mind until he took a step back, releasing the Angel. He wasn't completely sure why this made him cook with madness as much as it did. He- not the least bit gentle- took his glasses off.*

Crowley: I will never be nice or friendly or Good! I can't be! I- *sighs* It's not part of my job description to care for humans.

Azira: But I know, you-

Crowley: You don't. You could know how it is. The glimpse of falling you got was a sheer figment of your perfect, righteous imagination!

Azira: Well, you said you didn't fall, you "sauntered vaguely downwards"

Crowley: no matter the name, this train has the same destination: eternal Damnation in hell. *he looks down at his hands, seeing the slightly nagged pair of black sunglasses in them. The demon sets them back on his nose as he catches the Angel's gaze again.* Whatever that was... Satan.., who knows We better get on looking for... whatever it is we're looking for. We need to find the boy and we need to find him fast!

*With that, as if nothing was ever said, Crowley turned away and walked down the hallway.

Aziraphale, still pressed tightly to the wall, for no apparent reason at all, gazed at him strutting off. What had just happened, why did it happen and Why didn't Aziraphale mind at all? All those questions required to complex answers for Aziraphale to even bother asking himself them. His subconscious somehow just boiled it down to an almost comforting sense of understanding*

#Good Omens #GO #good omens #good omens 1 #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #THAT wall scene #S1E3 #(i think) #jeeezzzz #We don't even talk about this one #i had this idea hours ago and just kept procrastinating writing it down #so i forgot probably whole parts of the original concept in my stupid lil brain #the original was more angsty #and way more nicely worded #but whatevs ig #enjoy my brainrot #Edit: just fixed a few unintentional spelling mistakes

[milf-harrington]

*laying face down in my bed* why am i always the one missing out on shit

#i mean im having a good night honestly #listening to music and writing in bed and thinking about making a sandwich #but my sister and our cousins are all at the show tonight which. none of them even wanted to go last we talked about it #and idk i hate always being left out of things even when it's unintentional #the show = the annual fair/carnival thing #and the worst part is they're sending me videos and shit and it's not to be mean it's just bc we're all like that #like ''hey! look what im doing! i want to share it with you!'' but it just feels sad tonight bc im literally the only one not there #captain speaks

[theloveinc]

I am sorry you don't get to have people speak their gratitude to you in your day to day. But at least here, thank you for sharing your thoughts and time with us.

😭😭😭i hope my complaining didn't come off as begging for compliments, cuz i really didn't mean it that way!!! but you're berry kind to send me this🥺

despite what i said in my post abt it, on here i always feel like i'm the one who owes you guys gratitude for exactly the same thing💕which i guess is just to say that i'm really happy that the feeling is reciprocated even if it's just a little bit.

so thank you so much and i love u so much too<3

#i know (hope) it was ... probably unintentional but this makes feel like such an ungrateful binch jdflkajsdsfljka s #i dont wanna seem like i expect gratitude but............ i guess i do because i always give my gratitude to others #LMAOOO THAT MAKES IT WORSE LIKE IM DOING IT DISINGENUOUSLY #but i'm not :( i'm just doing it so no one feels the way i feel #but then... i'm still left feeling the way i feel #tho in a way it's good for to stop caring about others so much i think. it's been killing me recently #but i do want to say this is mostly in real life. i never feel this way about on here honestly. everyone is so kind for the most part #maybe thats why im so spoiled LOL cuz you are too nice to me #thats not to explain or defend myself tho i guess i just... gotta unpack it somehow. or something #who knows #i appreciate this tho and i really appreciate the opportunity it gave me to ... talk about it #ily ghost :(( i always notice u in my notes and im glad ur here #and that u still feel like i'm sharing with u even tho ive been so busy #AHHH OK SORRY #what i mean is THANK U LOVE U UR THE BEST WAHH #I ALWAYS WANNA SHARE MY TIME WITH U #kiss #caitie answers #blinddoglee

[thedreadvampy]

male gaze is not 'when person look sexy' or 'when misogynist make film'

death of the author is not 'miku wrote this'

I don't think you have to read either essay to grasp the basic concepts

death of the author means that once a work is complete, what the author believes it to mean is irrelevant to critical analysis of what's in the text. it means when analysing the meaning of a text you prioritise reader interpretation above author intention, and that an interpretation can hold valid meaning even if it's utterly unintentional on the part of the person who created the thing. it doesn't mean 'i can ignore that the person who made this is a bigot' - it may in fact often mean 'this piece of art holds a lot of bigoted meanings that the author probably wasn't intentionally trying to convey but did anyway, and it's worth addressing that on its own terms regardless of whether the author recognises it's there.' it's important to understand because most artists are not consciously and vocally aware of all the possible meanings of their art, and because art is communal and interpretive. and because what somebody thinks they mean, what you think somebody means, and what a text is saying to you are three entirely different things and it's important to be able to tell the difference.

male gaze is a cinematographic theory on how films construct subjectivity (ie who you identify with and who you look at). it argues that film language assumes that the watcher is a (cis straight white hegemonically normative) man, and treats men as relatable subjects and women as unknowable objects - men as people with interior lives and women as things to be looked at or interacted with but not related to. this includes sexual objectification and voyeurism, but it doesn't mean 'finding a lady sexy' or 'looking with a sexual lens', it means the ways in which visual languages strip women of interiority and encourage us to understand only men as relatable people. it's important to understand this because not all related gaze theories are sexual in nature and if you can't get a grip on male gaze beyond 'sexual imagery', you're really going to struggle with concepts of white or abled or cis subjectivities.

#red said

[starsbits]

opening another tab to say i have been stuck going through my likes for over an hour now :sob: my queue is about to be so full

#been saving so many mizuki/pjsk art pieces to queue up for TOO LONG so now i am suffering #starspeaks #i also think some slipped through the cracks and did NOT go in the queue so apologies for any unintentional spam #22 in the queue and i haven't even reached the part of our likes where i* went on a liking spree in the mizuki + ena tags HELPPPP

[nitw]

OKAY REAL TALK. i'm on episode 5 rn. if this keeps up the way i think it is then this show is such a fucking genius adaptation, and i never would've seen it coming

like yeah, an animated scott pilgrim series authentic to the comics and the story bryan originally wanted to tell would've been amazing too. but when you think about it, SCOTT'S story has already been told to us more than a few times now. even if the live action movie took a different turn by accident, the overall message of "well-intentioned people can still make, and should still take responsibility for, mistakes that hurt those who care about them, and indifference will only end up hurting them back" still sticks for the most part.

but it's mainly been from scott's perspective. which makes sense! he's the main character, so, obviously!! but here's the thing: ramona has ALWAYS served as a reflection of scott's issues. ngl i think this is one of the most consistent things in the entire franchise, and it's why i love ramona so much. as we dive further into her backstory we learn just how much of a wall she's built around herself, how she's afraid of trusting people, but especially that, as sympathetic as she is, she's also caused so much (unintentional) damage herself. although she's introduced as someone literally too good to be true and unreachable by scott's standards, it becomes more and more apparent how similar scott and ramona are, and so they're perfect for guiding each other towards a brighter path.

and what better way to highlight this than to flip the tables completely, putting RAMONA center stage aka making the audience intimately familiar with her immediately, making SCOTT the mysterious damsel in distress/goal at the finish line instead, driving ramona to face the 7 evil exes and making amends with them in a way scott never could???

also can i just say. HUGE SHOUTOUT to the marketing team for hiding this reveal SOOOOO well. like seriously, i was worried they were showing TOO MUCH in the trailers BUT I WAS WRONG. WE GOT PLAYED SO HARD

#ANYWAY ILL KEEP WATCHING NOW #leo.txt #spto spoilers #ramona flowers #scott pilgrim #spvstw #scott pilgrim takes off