#but i have a lot of thoughts about politics

[the-golden-kingdom]

As a person of colour, Toshiro is so unbelievably relatable once you realize the reasons and emotions behind his actions. He's been microaggressed upon p much all the time down to the name people call him, but he continues to be silent about it because of the cultural pressure he was raised on of having to be polite and kind and not to speak his true thoughts.

I can relate so hard to his jealousy about laios being able to be more open and confident and speak his mind. I can never bring myself to dislike him at all esp during the laios/toshiro fight because both of them are coming from very real relatable places to me. Its a nuanced conflict. Toshiro has a lot of pent up emotions he needed to get out for all the reasons i said before. And laios was rightfully upset about Toshiro not seeing him the same way he sees him and hiding all of this from him. Both of these guys are in the wrong in this situation. It's not a good guy / bad guy thing.

They both are different kinds of autistic people under different circumstances and I can honestly relate to them both on different things.

Also the scene right after dude gives him the bell and gives them a way out if things were to get bad. And with that we see he obviously cares for laios and the rest of the party despite everything.

All in all. Love u Toshiro they could never make me hate u !!

#dungeon meshi #toshiro nakamoto #Also coming as a manga reader toshiros later actions wouldn't make sense if he fully hated laios he still cares for the entire party #Laios included!! #Sorry for the random ramble but seeing ppl hate on toshiro like the situation isn't nuanced got me PISSEDD

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

just for tonight

a/n: sure, I was vigilantly working on a different wip (a very long one that needed a lot of strength to get through) but then this whole fantasy came to me and i just couldn't stop myself... at least i downgraded the idea from a full-fledged series (which i sadly very much do not have the time for) to just a slutty little one shot in an au that i can always pop back into whenever the itch pops up (or when anyone has a slutty request for it hehe).

summary: before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader's mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, posh political party, alcohol consumption, wet dream, lingerie, stockings, one night stand (except we already know those fools can't keep it to just one night), kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, oral, fingering, impact play, squirting, gaping, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 4907

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“You sure, you don’t want some?” you squinted over at your bodyguard as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips, “this shit costs more than my dress, which is really saying something,” you pointed to the red silk gown that hung from your frame, “this is Dior.”

“I’m good, miss,” Bucky uttered, tight-lipped as always. 

“Right, sorry,” you sat the glass down at the tall table you stood beside, “can’t drink while on duty.”

Posh parties such as the one tonight were always a bit of a drag to get through. Even though you’d been hauled along for most of your life, they’d never gotten any more amusing. 

But when your mother hired Barnes to be your personal bodyguard a few months back, the thought of getting dolled up just to have a bunch of provoking politicians talk your ear off about ideas you’d never in a million years support, somehow didn’t seem as bad as it used to now that he was constantly at your side. 

It had been a little incident involving your phone getting hacked, an explicit video nearly getting leaked, one that had been made for an ex who lived in another country to make the distance more barrable, and a few threatening messages from the perpetrator that had been the reason for your new shadow. 

Though you’d been resistant at first, storming into your mother’s office to state that you were a grown woman and didn’t need a babysitter just because someone tried to exploit an old sex tape that in your opinion wasn’t even that big of a deal, swiftly got squashed when a then stranger cleared his throat behind you and shared the more gruelling threats that had been made alongside the hacking. 

You’d hoped and prayed that he’d turn out to be a pain, that his personality could squash the feelings that fluttered inside of you whenever you looked at him, but unfortunately, he wasn’t an asshole. He was quiet, professional to a fault, but he wasn’t a dick. If anything, all of the silence and all of the glances to always keep track of you made the crush worse. It made you feel as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, reading between the lines of subtext your unreliable brain came up with.

“You tired?” he asked as a yawn rolled out of you. 

“Mhm,” you hummed behind the palm you had brought up to your lips. 

“The car’s ready to take you back to the embassy whenever you are.” 

A grateful smile twitched at your lip as you offered him a small nod of confirmation, “I’ll just go tell my mom.”

The ambassador, your mother, had her back turned to you as she talked business with a small group of people even though the hour had grown late. 

You waited for a sliver of a break before you tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.

“Hey, mom?” her palm found yours as she turned to look at you, “I’m gonna head home.”

“Oh, alright,” she leaned in and pressed a small peck to your cheek, “see you tomorrow, love.”

“Bye,” you gave her hand one last squeeze before heading out of the elegant venue, your guard still only a few paces behind you. 

A dusty drizzle met your skin as you exited onto the midnight streets of Paris. The sensation made you want to walk home, though you still followed Bucky to the black car already waiting and slipped in when he opened the back door for you. 

The light from the city reflected on the back of his metal hand as it gripped the steering wheel. You could faintly spot the prominent veins on the other one dance beneath the inked skin as it did the same, tattoos you still ached to discover just how far they stretched beneath his dark suit. 

Though soon your gaze flickered away from his silhouette as he drove, and fluttered out to the glittering cityscape rolling by, the vision of which swiftly lulled you to sleep. 

When you arrived home, Bucky’s steely eyes found your slumbering form in the rear-view mirror. You didn’t rouse when he opened your door and carefully picked you up into his arms. You didn’t wake either as he carried you inside, all the way up to your bedroom, and layed you down on your bed. 

Gently, he removed your heels and quietly placed them down on the hardwood floor before he grabbed your duvet and tugged it over your form. 

But just as he moved to leave your side, half asleep you caught his hand.

“Don’t go…” you murmured hazily, eyes still shut. 

And so, he didn’t.

Bucky simply reached for the tufted chair nearby and, as silently as he could, scooted it closer to the bed. 

Barely an hour passed before you woke. 

Before you even blinked open your eyes, your fingers began to slide down your body as the sinful dream you’d been blessed with still lingered in your foggy brain. 

Though when your eyes did flutter open and discovered the star of the dream sitting in a chair right next to you, your hand halted its voyage, and you sucked in a startled breath. 

“You okay?” he asked softly as you blinked a few times. 

“Uh,” the throbbing that still lingered from the dream probably wasn’t going to fade any faster with him sitting there with his unwavering stare, “yeah, I’m–, uhm…” you propped yourself up on your elbow before sitting up more, “I’m fine.” 

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“No, it wasn’t a–…” your sentence then crumbled as you sucked in a breath, “what are you doing watching me sleep?”

As you met his gaze, he then uttered, “you asked me to stay.”

Your eyes then widened, “I did?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh…” though you couldn’t recall, heat still began to bloom on your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“It's alright,” his shoulders offered a faint shrug. 

Averting your gaze, you noticed that you were still in your dress. You weren’t quite sure if it pleased you or not that Bucky didn’t try to strip it off you, though it was probably less the moral intentions and more the fantasy of him peeling it off of you that swayed you. 

“Were you just planning on sleeping in that chair all night?” you asked. 

“No,” he shook his head, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping at all.” 

A tinge of guilt stung in your chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I must have been asleep or something…” you then swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up. As your fingers raised up to pluck off your sparkling earrings, your feet began to carry you in the direction of your wardrobe. Dropping the jewellery off in a small porcelain bowl on the opposite bedside table, you then glanced back at your bodyguard and said, “you don’t have to stay any longer, you can go back to your room and get some sleep.” 

Offering you a nod, he then began to walk towards the door. 

Though, as you reached back to undo your dress, you abruptly uttered, “wait,” and he stopped before his steely fingers could enclose around the door handle. Turning to glance back at you, a bold request then hesitantly fell from your lips, “could you maybe help unzip me?”

He barely made a noise, simply hummed quietly in response before his slow stride carried him towards your frame as it twisted for your back to be turned to him.

When you felt his touch on the zipper, tugging it down ever so slowly, your breath came in ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut. You swore you felt his radiating heat seep into you as he exposed more of your goosebump-ridden spine. 

As the straps tumbled over your shoulders, your hands came up to your chest to hold it up even though you wished for nothing more than to let it drop before him.

And when the zipper finally reached its end, he lingered right behind you just long enough for you to catch the tether of it. Slowly, as if you were dealing with a skittish bird, you rotated around. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you let yourself follow that magnetic pull you’d been trying to keep at bay. Your gaze flickered up to his lips as heated puffs of air seeped from your lungs and you slowly, hypnotically, inched closer. 

But then Bucky opened his mouth and said in a soft and quiet tone, “what are you doing?” making you halt, though not pull back. 

“Please don’t act like you don’t already know… I know you do…”

“You can’t,” he uttered, though didn’t move to walk away either as he captured your gaze, “we can’t, alright?”

“Why not?” you breathed, your eyes returning to his lips, “is it really that important for you to stay professional over everything else? Or is it that I’m just a job to you?” your heart felt as if it was gonna beat straight out of your chest, “you know I like you, I know you do. You notice everything, so of course you know. Am I right?”

A long exhale then flowed from his lungs before the faintest of nods tilted his head, “…yeah.”

“And I have eyes too, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” a shiver trickled down your spine, “so, are you really gonna just stand there and pretend you don’t feel something too? Just go back to your own room and continue to protect me like nothing’s going on?”

“Y/n, I can’t be with you,” he shook his head heavily, “you know I can’t.” 

Can’t or won’t?

Before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

As if your quiet whispers melted him completely, your bodyguard breathed, “…fuck…” and the next thing you knew, he’d grabbed your face and seized your lips. 

It was like something inside of him had snapped, something you had shattered, with the way that he kissed you as if he’d been drowning and your lips were oxygen. 

As you lost yourself in the sensation of his tongue dancing across your own, you let the red dress drop down your body, passed the sheer stockings that clung around your thighs, to the floor. Like fire, one of his hands disappeared from your cheek and ran down your frame, grazing over the black lingerie that was now exposed.  

Though heated and hungry at first, the kiss soon softened into lighter pecks. 

With his metal hand, he held your face close to his as he withdrew from the kiss, an action you weren’t quite ready for as you dreamily trailed after him a bit, longing for his lips. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” his hot breath fanned across your features. 

“Yes,” you whispered swiftly. 

But as you dizzily blinked up at him, he simply hummed for you to elaborate, “hm?”

“Yes, I want you,” goosebumps tingled across your skin. 

“You want me to what?” his thumb swiped over your cheekbone. 

“I want you to–, to–…” you fumbled as you felt your desire drip and soak your panties, making them cling to your aching core. 

“To what, huh?” 

“To–… fuck me,” the embarrassingly desperate words tumbled out your mouth. 

“You want me to fuck you?” his unwavering stare briefly dropped to your parted lips.

“Yes,” the syllable rushed out of you. 

“Say it again,” he tilted his chin. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Louder,” his feet began to shift, causing yours to shuffle back as well. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“One more time,” his hand had dropped down to your jaw and his fingers curled slightly to dent your soft cheeks. 

“I want you to fuck me, please!” 

With the hold he had on you, he swiftly dipped down and pressed his lips to yours once more. The world then fell out from under you as his grasp scooped down your frame and plucked you up.

Your arms tangled around his neck right before your back collided with the closet door and your lips tilted away from his as a short squeak slipped out. The distance however lent Bucky to let his kisses dance down the length of your neck and across your cleavage, so perfectly framed by the sheer fabric of your bra. 

Though the hickeys he began to plant across your skin made your eyes roll in your skull, your fingers still captured his tie and tugged him back up for your lips to crash against his. As you moved to push his blazer off, his sturdy grip on you shifted though still held you close as the jacket fell from his burly frame and your palms swiftly scooped over his broad shoulders and down his chest, now one layer closer to letting you actually get to feel the furnace roiling beneath.

Cupping his face close, whimpers seeped out of you and vibrated against his lips as his fingers dug into your ass and rubbed your barely covered cunt over the palpable tent in his pants, your want surely drenching through your thin underwear and marking him as well. 

You almost didn’t realise that Bucky had moved till he dropped you down on the bed. Taking a step back, his tongue briefly flicked across his breathless lips as his fingers lifted to tug his tie off. 

Staring directly into your soul, he uttered, “take your bra off,” as he tossed the tie to the floor and your fingers scrambled to fulfil his request. When you flung the lingerie to the ground, right next to his crumbled tie, the cool night air kissed your pebbly nipples and Bucky let out a murmured curse right before bending down to press his lips to yours. 

Balanced on your elbows, you parted your lips and let his tongue sweep across your own. His touch coasted down your frame, barely granting your tits any attention before his grasp hooked around your thighs and yanked you closer to the edge of the mattress. A surprised yelp escaped you at first at the sudden shift, but as the sting of saliva, that had lingered and connected you from your sloppy kiss, snapped back against your skin, the short cry morphed into a fizzy giggle. 

The light laugh however faded away when you watched him sink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Your legs curled up even further on either side of you, though you weren’t quite sure if that was you or him pushing them up and cracking you open that much more. You could feel his breath hit your pantie-clad core as his gaze fixated on the soaked spot right over your puff. 

When his palm slid up your inner thigh, he only had to reach out his thumb for the broad pad to ghost over your covered slit. His eyes swiftly flickered up to capture yours, checking your reaction as you began to squirm from his feathery light touch. 

Hooking his finger in the gusset, he pulled it to the side and a glossy string stretched out and clung to the fabric as he revealed your glistening pussy. 

A breathy moan billowed out of you as he began to touch you, rolling your little pearl beneath his touch. Finding your eyes once more, he held your gaze as he then leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your clit. 

“This okay?” his voice vibrated against your bundle of nerves, making you twitch. 

“Mhm,” you nodded foggily, “you can do anything you want.”

“Anything?” his lips twitched into a smirk as his fingers stretched from where they were clutching your panties to brush over your button.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “fucking anything.” 

Your mouth then hung agape at the sight of him dipping down to ruthlessly taste your desire. It didn’t take long before he lost himself in you so fiercely that he momentarily leaned back only to rip your underwear off. Both of his hands curved around your bottom, raking across your skin as he drew you even closer to his tongue and dragged it through your wet folds.

Bumping his nose against your clit, he let himself make out with your cunt a moment longer before planting a farewell peck over your pearl and pulling back. A dollop of spit dropped from his lips down onto your pussy. Catching the drop with his fingers before it slid away, he rubbed it into your own juices and made you that much more of a mess. 

“O-oh,” you moaned as he slowly slid a long finger into you after teasing your weepy entrance enough to make you shiver. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned at the soppy sounds his efforts conjured.

Craning down to kiss your clit sloppily, Bucky then slid his ring finger in beside the other, curving them gently as he reached even deeper. 

When he momentarily retracted his digits to land a small tap over your puffy petals, the smile that bloomed on your face only egged him on further. Plugging you back up, he then retracted and repeated the slap though with more ferocity. 

Your head began to lull a bit as he brought his vibranium digits down to roll your clit and his fingers began to fuck you harder, not faster, but with an intent that made your pussy sing for him. 

With your thighs trembling, they nearly slammed shut as you felt the end near, but your bodyguard only slid his strong metal forearm over your legs, hooking it right under both of your bent knees, to keep you spread nice and open for him. 

The veins on the back of his inked hand popped from how fiercely his fingers rocked within you. 

Stretching his thumb up to strum your clit, he tried to sneak a third finger inside of you as he felt your walls begin to flutter around him. 

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” as he always did in every manner, evidently. A smile curved at his lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a symphony of moans flowed out of you with every last tender stroke he offered you to carry you over the edge, “atta girl.”

Melted against the sheets, you caught your breath as he planted one last peck on your inner thigh before standing back up. 

Slowly, with his gaze ever glued on you, he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually revealing the silver shine of the dog tags that hung from his neck and the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. Going all the way up from the hand still shiny with your essence, the ink swirled up his right arm, across his pecs, down his back and even curved over to his left shoulder and intentionally tangled into the gnarly scares sprouting from the border of his prosthetic. 

When the button-up hit the floor, his fingers drifted down to unhurriedly remove his belt, pulling it out of the loops, he let it join the shirt before he undid his pants and let his cock spring free. 

“Jesus christ…” your jaw couldn’t help but drop to the floor as your eyes fluttered at the intimidating reveal. 

Noticing the anxiety that peeked through your lust-ridden expression, his low voice found your ears, “what? Did you change your mind?” 

“No, I just–…” you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his fat cock as it throbbed before you, “I got a bit nervous all of a sudden.” 

“No reason to be nervous, baby,” he breathed out a smile as his fist curled around his girth.  

“Oh really?” you nearly began to laugh. 

“You’ll be fine,” drool threatened to escape the corner of your lips as he slowly began to stroke himself, “trust me.” 

“Really? Because I’m not so sure I’ll be able to take that…” 

“You will,” he uttered calmly as he dipped down to give you a kiss, “don’t worry,” a hand slid into your hair as he cradled your face and ushered your gaze to find his, “you know I’d never hurt you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you’ll be fine,” his thumb curved to sweep over your cheek a few times. 

“Yeah,” you gently nodded and repeated after him, “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled. Kissing you once more, he then pressed a peck to your forehead before his grasp found your hips and he suddenly flipped you around, onto your stomach. 

Helping you up onto your hands and knees, a hazy smile stretched across your features as he bent down over you and pressed kisses all along your spine. Dragging his bulbous tip through your sopping folds, he then teased you for so long, never granting you any more than a dizzying nudge, that whines began to escape from you.

“P-please,” you heard yourself beg as your fingers bunched up the sheets. 

“What?” he continued to flick and tap your swollen clit with the head of his heavy cock.

“I–I want it–, plea–, please fuck me,” you blubbered desperately. 

“Oh, now you want it, huh?” you could hear the smirk that dominated his face, “suddenly not so nervous anymore about me stretching you out, are you?”

“Bucky, plea–, o-oh–,” you felt your limbs tremble beneath you as he slipped the very tip inside. 

His efforts were so slow at first, gradually giving you more of his length and just shallowly fucking you till you blossomed and opened up for him. 

Gradually, his thrusts began to ease from a mind-numbingly slow pace to something that truly scrambled your brain. You soon lost yourself completely to the molten sensation of his fat girth steadily splitting you open. 

Though when he finally bottomed out within you, a shrill gasp slipped out passed your lips and your frame shuttered beneath him. 

Drawing his hips back just enough for you to regain the ability to fill your lungs with oxygen once more, you heard him murmur in your ear, “what, is it too much dick for you?” retraining his thrusts slightly, he kept his tip from kissing your cervix, “that better or is it still too deep for you?” his hands dented your hips.

“N-no, no, it feels so good, it’s just–,” a whimper slipped out of you and broke up your slurring, “you’re so fucking big, I’ve never–,” you felt like you could feel him all the way up in your throat, “no one’s ever been that fucking deep before.”

One of his hands curved down to your clit at the exact same time as your own did. As they met, he let your own fingers swirl over your puffy pearl as his simply lingered, till he suddenly grasped your wrist and gently led it away from your pussy, further up to your lower stomach. 

“That deep?” he pressed down on your palm and let you discover the dull bulge that formed in your belly at every one of his dizzying thrusts, “has no one ever stuffed you that full before? Not even one of your pretty toys you play with so often?”

“Nuh-uh,” you panted as his warm contact dissipated from your spine and he straightened back up. 

A gravelly moan slipped out past Bucky’s lips as he glanced down to see how tightly your creamy pussy was gripping onto his cock. Your fingers returned to the sheets as his wide palm came down to slap your ass, your back arching at the impact and consequently angling his efforts so that the details of his dick brushed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way imaginable. 

He only buried himself inside of you a few more times, his heavy sack tapping against your buzzing clit at every electric buck, till your pussy gushed around his fat girth. 

“There you go,” he pulled out only to insistently flick your puffy pearl with his tip, “fucking hell,” he then plunged his cock all the way back in before dragging it back out, “keep going,” ushering more squirt to drizzle out. He kept up the overwhelming pattern till your pussy stopped gushing for him, till he’d pushed you through the overstimulation and your cunt slowly began to relax again for him. Eventually, when he steadily withdrew from you, he craned his neck to relish in the way your little hole had stretched out and accommodated so well for him, it even winking sinfully at him every time he pulled out, “good fucking girl,” he growled at the sight, “told you so, you’d do just fine,” your shaky frame jolted as he slapped your ass again, “look at you now fucking gaping for me, christ…”

With a ring of your cream staining the base of his cock, he let himself return to your warmth for longer than just a few seconds, fucking you with such ferocity that your pliant form, still molten and unsteady from your second orgasm, collapsed onto the mattress below. 

Though he successfully caught you before you could slip off his cock entirely, he still let you drop down on the bed, though softened the fall for you, before he followed suit. 

The weight of him on top of you felt so comforting and soothed on your tingly skin.

“You okay?” he kissed your cheek before spreading your stocking-clad legs with his own. 

“Hm,” you nodded foggily and felt yourself drool onto the sheets as he squished you further into the mattress.

Your shaky moans filled the bedroom as he slid back inside, “fuck, you feel so good…” sloppily nipping just below your ear before he picked up his pace. 

The chain that dangled from his neck felt cool on your skin and acted as a stark contrast to how hot his body felt pressed against your back. 

“You think you can be a good girl and cum for me again?” he groaned into your ear as his efforts echoed sloppily, “let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze around me one last time?”

“I-I don’t know,” you trembled beneath him, every one of his deep thrusts making you jolt and gasp for air as he was practically splitting you in half. 

“You don’t know?” he sweetly whispered in your ear as he curled his arms under you. One hand slid under your tit and caught your pebbly nipple in a rude pinch while the other soared down to your sore and swollen clit, “can you try for me? Try and cum again,” your eyes had fallen completely shut, so your whole reality had just become Bucky’s reassuring weight, his tantalising efforts, and his sinful whispers that seeped directly into your soul, “try and squirt for me one last time, sweetheart.” 

And so, you did. It didn’t even take that long before you tumbled over one last time and your pussy creamed for him, drenching the already damp sheets beneath you, as he swiftly came as well, throbbing deep within your clenching cunt and filling your little hole up to the brim till it tried to leak and escape around his girth.

His heavy pants faded from your ear as he slowly crawled off of you, cascading a tender trail of kisses all the way down your body till he gently retraced his track of pecks and settled down next to you. Fluttering your eyes open as his palm slid up to your heated cheek, he gazed into your hazy eyes for a moment before leaning in to softly press his lips to your own. 

You wanted to curl in closer to his frame, but your body was so exhausted that you could barely raise your pinkie finger. Fortunately though, as you layed there in wordless wonder, Bucky’s arms draped around you as he scooted in close, hugging you to him and gently caressing your skin as you continued to blink back into his ocean eyes, not uttering a word out of fear that you’d ruin the blissful moment.

After perhaps a small eternity had passed, he briefly raised his head up slightly to catch sight of the small clock on your bedside table. 

“There’s still a few more hours left before the sunrise…” he settled back down beside you.

“Oh, yeah?” a soft smile tilted up your lips as his touch began to travel south. 

“Yeah,” his lips gently parted in a silent moan as his fingers slid through your sore folds. His stare was transfixed on how your brows knitted together and a quiet hiss slipped out of you as he swirled over your sensitivity, playing with the hot load he’d pumped into you as it slowly leaked out, one of his digits too brash not to try and stuff it back inside, “what do you think?” sharing your breath, he inched in and let his nose nuzzle against your own, “do you want me to be yours just a little bit longer or would you rather I’d return to my own bed?” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bodyguard!bucky #bodyguard!bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes hc #bucky x reader #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes oneshot #winter soldier smut

[livanas]

Astrology observations

⊱┈──╌❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱ :⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊╌──┈⊰ :

I have collected and put some of my notes together to share here with everyone. I hope they’re relatable or you find them interesting.

I have Pluto in the 3rd house and am always fidgeting with my fingers and picking at my lips. It’s a habit that won’t stop help!!!

Virgo risings come off as sweet and naive and you’ll feel the compulsive need to tell them all of your secrets,be warned you don’t want them as your enemy they have Gemini Mc they’ll tarnish your reputation

Virgo rising talk too loudly and they don’t realise it. They have a problem of ghosting people that want to have one on one conversation with them thus being called rude or snobbish

Virgo risings are overly sexualised and it’s usually with random people that they never expected they’ll sleep with. They also can’t make eye contact with people when talking

Had a classmate with Mercury in Aquarius he wrote notes very fast. We liked to copy his notes and he didn’t make grammatical errors

Juno in Aquarius might have a dislike for marriage or traditional relationships.

It’s so often talked about how Pisces are delusional since they’re ruled by Neptune. But, actually Leo is the most delusional since they’re exalted in Neptune. (Tell me I’m wrong.)

Sagittarius moons are always passionate about some cause related to society eg. politics, lgbtq+ etc.

Sun in the 11th house probably don’t like to expose themselves publicly, that’s why they tend to make friends online. (12th house sun can be this way too.)

9th house stellium can indicate not relating to their birthplace or where they were raised.

Saturn in Gemini = your thoughts are holding you back.

Saturn in Leo = your ego is holding you back.

Saturn in Scorpio = your secrets are holding you back.

Mars in Aquarius have explosive tempers, remember that Aquarius is ruled by Uranus, the unstable planet par excellence.

Capricorn’s love language is all but touch. Most of them don’t like much physical contact.

Lilith square sun is a common placement in those people with abusive fathers/deeply wounded ego.

Mars conjuct MC or in the 10th house can experience others being intimidated by them for no reason. And others can get jealous whenever they achieve anything.

Opposite/sister sign ascendants can actually look strikingly similar in terms of physical appearance. (I.e; Capricorn rising and Cancer risings)

Capricorns can repress their emotions because every time they express their emotions they are antagonized. People will find a way to blame them for feeling-someway, somehow. Cancer is in their 7th-house of open enemies.

Aries moons can be very defensive. Any Aries placements seem to be overly self protective.

Lilith in the 2nd house can be an over indulgent placement.

Pisces moons have soft-spoken voices.

Chart ruler in 1st people are so in control of their own lives. I’ve always considered this a “manifestation” placement.

Chiron in the 11th house can have difficulty making friends.

Mercury in the 12th house can easily manifest whatever they speak.

Ruler of the 11th and the 5th house in the 3rd makes for someone who can easily imitate other peoples voices.

Mercury in 1st house say things that are totally out of concept. They tend to talk about themselves a lot too. (Mercury= communication and 1H= self)

Saturn in the 5th house likes historical genres, movies or documentaries.

The first born in the family can often share the same moon sign as one their parents.

Mercury dominant like the English subject and are good at dictations

The color pink has a strong connection to lunar energy. Moon in the 1st house, Cancer rising, or Cancer placements can like a lot of pink.

Gemini moons have some of the best sense of humor. They’re very witty and creative.

Pluto or Uranus in the 4th house can indicate feeling like the “black sheep” of the family.

The house your moon is in can show what area of life is the most unstable or changeable for you.

Moon in Pisces is the most sensitive placement.

I know many Aquarius moons who were all into photography or film at some point in their lives, tech seems to be a hobby of theirs and they are very tech savvy.

Those are all of my observations! please comment on any you related to or are curious about, I’d love to read them. Bye for now.

#art #astro notes #astro observations #astrology #astrology compatibility #astrology notes #astrology observations #astrology signs #birth chart #gaming #kpop aesthetic #kpop #kpop icons #kpop moodboard #kpop smut #bts #horoscope #zodiac signs #zodiac #natal chart #aesthetic #nail art #photography #fyp #lgbtq

[woso-dreamzzz]

The Melting Pot

Hardersson x Child!Reader

woso-dreamzzz Kids x Child!Reader (Princesse)

Summary: A melting point of universes

The school building isn't one that Magda stared at a lot, despite it being just across the street from her house.

It was a selective school, only accepting a handful of students after hours of vetting and interviews. Magda wasn't quite sure what the requirements actually were but she's glad that she passed them.

"Morsa," You say as you stare up at the building," What if they don't like me?"

Magda looks out across the schoolyard, where a small handful of kids are playing around.

There's a section nearer the back with a few little babies. Another section with some kids playing around with a football. A different section with a climbing frame where one little girl is sitting at the very top.

"They'll love you," Magda assures you.

You didn't have the best run of schools in Germany, with one particular teacher scaring you into an anxiety attack so bad Pernille had to pick you up early.

It was one of the reasons that Magda had campaigned so hard for this school. The brochures and the reviews insisted that it was perfectly inclusive and because the pool of students were so small, the classes were really tailored to each child and their needs.

It was perfect and Magda thanks her lucky stares that she had secured a place for you.

"Intimidating, isn't it?"

Magda looks to her side to see a woman standing next to her.

"A little bit," Pernille says politely.

"We thought the same when we first came too."

There's a little girl standing next to her, staring up at Magda with wide eyes.

"It'll get better," Her mother says," I'm Alexia, by the way. This is my Pequeñita."

"Magda. And this is Pernille and Princesse."

"It's nice to meet you. But, really, it'll get better. My girls love it here."

Magda looks at the singular child. "Girls?"

Alexia smiles, jerking her chin to the other side of the road where a tall woman with dark hair is walking over with two children.

"My ex, Jenni."

"You talking bad about me, Ale?" Jenni asks good-naturedly. She's holding the hands of a girl with ribbons in her hair and the other on her hip is gripping the life out of a stuffed fox.

"Always," Alexia teases," This is Magda, Pernille and their daughter. They're new."

"I was wondering who got the new place," Jenni says," Nice to meet you. This is Bambi and Osita. I'd shake your hand but they're full."

Pernille laughs. "It's fine."

You shuffle a bit closer to her, tugging on the sleeve of your jumper as you walk into the schoolyard.

Pequeñita starts pulling away the moment she spots a pack of similar-looking children, zeroing in on the smallest of them and Alexia lets her hand go so she can attach herself to the girl.

Bambi also disappears off to a corner of the playground where a group of girls are making daisychains.

Osita sits in Jenni's arms.

"Hi, there," A cheerful woman that you identify as a teacher says," You must be Miss Harder and Miss Eriksson. It's nice to finally meet you all." She crouches down. "And you must be my new student."

"Hi," You whisper.

"Ah, a shy one. I think you'll fit right in." She looks back at your mothers. "We've still got fifteen-twenty minutes or so before school starts. You're welcome to hang around the playground to get her settled."

"Thank you."

You squeeze Morsa's hand tight as she leads you around the playground.

There are still a lot of parents hanging around so you don't feel awkward still clinging to Momma and Morsa.

You stay mainly silent as you stare out across the playground.

"Lots of blended families," Momma notes, jerking her head around the playground at where she's noticed exes and custody agreements that are clearly a little sour.

"Inclusive too," Morsa says.

There's a little baby wearing hearing aids sitting on her mummy's lap over in the corner with the rest of the babies.

"International as well."

You're in a melting pot of languages and culture, something you can pick out even over all the shrieking of the playground.

There's languages you recognise and accents that you don't.

You relax a little.

There's a shriek nearby and you turn your head to see that throng of similar-looking girls wrestling around while a tall woman sighs and her smaller partner tries to separate them.

"Big family," Morsa laughs as the smaller woman gets tackled to the ground by the rest of her kids.

You're still looking around when a football comes rolling to a stop in front of you.

You look at it.

A group of girls come running over.

"Can we have our ball back please?" It's one of the taller ones that ask, the one that looks fairly similar to the group that's tackled their mummy to the ground.

You nod, gently kicking it back. She grabs it, turning to go.

"What's that?" A smaller girl points at your bag.

"It's my Wolfsburg keychain."

"Wolfsburg? Like the football club?"

You nod. "We used to live in Germany. Wolfsburg is our German team."

"Who's your English team?"

"Arsenal."

The smaller girl shoves her way forward, holding out her hand. "I'm Bean," She says," My team's Arsenal too."

"And mine!"

"That's Bug. She's technically my niece because my sister Leah's her mummy even though we're the same age."

"Hi," You say, gently letting go for Morsa and Momma's hands to shake Bean's.

"And this is Peanut and Nena," Bean continues," We play football together. Tesoro too but she's late because her sister Lessi likes staying in bed as long as possible."

Bean passes the ball off to her niece, who does a round of fairly impressive keepy-uppies.

"Do you play?"

You nod. "I play keeper."

"Cool!" Peanut interrupts," We don't have a keeper yet! Do you want to play with us?"

"Yes, please."

You go to move away but Morsa draws you back.

"Hey," She says," We're going to go, alright? Are you good here?"

"Uh-huh!"

Momma gives you a kiss and a cuddle and Morsa does the same before you're released.

You run into goal just in time for Bug to release a wicked shock that you jump up to collect easily.

#hardersson x reader #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the special au #melting pot

[jqnehr]

❝ 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧'. ❞ | boothill.

boothill x fem!reader.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and boothill meet in a bar, and have a very nice chat (aka, you flirt like mad).

𝐜𝐰: SFW!! no use of y/n, alcohol consumption (it's a bar come on now), bar banter/flirting. (pathetic attempts at) funny haha humour, and ermm well inspired by old 1950s western films (my dad adores john wayne i cannot escape them HELP), but like in the hsr universe yk. this one was meant to be funny because i had a BALL playing around with boothill's CANONICAL censor oh my god i love him. imagine calling him a fucktard and the only thing he can clap back w is "you son of a biscuit-eating bulldog" (what the french toast?) or something idk. can he say that? or can he only say nice things—anyways enough rambling 😔

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: (continuation from above basically) this man i tell you. i can't sleep. can't eat. he plagues me. day in and day out. i do not have the funds to pull for him. how dare he look at me with that sexy smirk? ain't got no money pal sorry. anyways here's a lil thing i wrote in honour of this man making my chronic fatigue worse <3 NOT PROOF READ. it is currently 12:44am as im posting this so there will be MANY typos haha im going to sleep now.

"You look like you should be in a saloon."

The gun-slinging Galaxy Ranger glanced up at the woman who just took a seat beside him from beneath the brim of his hat, drawn from his thoughts. She had taken a seat that was a respectable distance from him, two bar stools down, the message clear that she wasn't here to chat him up and lead him off to somewhere secluded and have some 'fun', but was only here for small talk and a drink. Good thing she wasn't coming onto him, too. Saved him having to turn down yet another woman looking for a fleeting one night stand.

He went back to absentmindedly swirling the malt juice around in his glass. Car oil, basically. He let out a small chuckle. "Ain't the first time I heard that one."

"Yeah? Makes sense. Fit's cool, though." She nodded to his cropped jacket, his spurred boots, his pants with their sides unzipped. She didn't seem to be bothered by the sight of his belt lined with ammo and a holstered gun. "What's that your drinking? Looks like engine oil."

"Malt juice," Boothill humoured her. "Can't drink nothin' else. Perks o' bein' a machine."

"Machine?" The woman lifted a brow, taking a sip of her beer. "Ah, gotcha. You're a robot?"

"Cyborg, yeah." It didn't matter if he divulged in her what he usually wouldn't. It was just tedious small talk, a nice weight off his mind, and he wouldn't ever see her again, anyway. "Got its pros and cons."

"I see." He was starting to become rather surprised at how...nonchalant she was about this. She lifted her beer jug to her lips once more. "So, what do you do for a living? Go around cosplaying as a cowboy?"

"Heh. If ya like, sure." Boothill was getting curious. It was once in a blue moon he came across someone as relaxed as this woman. "Let's say, it's my...signature look. Across the galaxies. Helps people remember me."

"You're starting to sound like a criminal on the run," she laughed lightly, only out of politeness, really. "Considering the people I've come across around here, I wouldn't mind getting you've got a bounty on that pretty head of yours."

"Uh-huh." He swigged the last of his malt juice. "Perceptive of you, sweets. You a local? Frequent?"

"Pretty much." She shot him a glance. "And it seems I was right. Eh, don't worry. I don't care enough about ya to turn you in. How much you wanted for, anyway?"

"A lot." Boothill grinned impishly. "Those IPC cuties keep bumpin' the ‘prize money’ up, if ya like." He made air quotation marks. "Yer'd be set fo' life if ya got yer hands on that money."

"I'm sure I would be." She really didn't seem to care. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your name?"

"Boothill," he answered, inclining his head towards you. "What about you, darlin'?"

You gave him your name, downing the last of your beer, before hailing the bartender over for a refill. "Nice to meet you, Mr Boothill."

"D'aw, shucks, haven't been called 'mister' in a long time!" Boothill flashed a toothy grin, showing off his shark-like teeth. He noticed how you didn't recoil, barely even blinked, at the sight of them. "Makes me wanna buy you a drink, sugar."

"By all means." You're never one to pass such a offer up. "And you like to flirt, too, huh?"

He watched you rummage around in your purse for something. You finally pulled out a compact mirror and checked your appearance in its tiny mirror. He leaned forward, took your free hand, and placed a kiss to the top of it, winking at you from under his cowboy hat's brim. "With such a lovely lady as yourself? How could I not?"

You laughed in a rather unladylike way—you, more or less, gaffawed—before retracting your hand and tipping his hat right down over his eyes, disorienting him. Your cheeks burned. "You're a funny one, Mr Boothill. You sure know how to woo a lady."

He adjusted his hat, huffing, leaning back in his seat. "I wasn't bein' funny. I like ya. I don't just kiss any old woman's hand."

"Got a little crush now, have you?" You raised your beer jug up in his direction as a friendly salute of sorts, grinning. "Cute of you. I like you, too, but I'm not letting you take me home."

"Ain't got one to take ya to." Boothill shrugged, not noticing how your smile suddenly vanished and you were looking at him. "Sons of biscuits made sure I couldn't have one no more, 'cause I wasn't about to let 'em get away with shady things they keep nicely under wraps."

"'Sons of biscuits'...?" You echoed, puzzled. You were also suddenly feeling quite sorry for the man. He was a roamer—a nomad of sorts, never stuck in one place for very long. That, you were instantly able to tell once you first laid eyes on his broad back.

"Someone had a little play around with my Synesthesia Beacon, so now I can't say nothin' mean—I'll try to say honey, honey, ugh. I'm tryna say honey." He tsked in frustration. "See? Can't say it."

"You can't swear?"

"Yep. Very aggravatin' at times. Whenever I wanna yell the s-word in combat, I just say somethin' ridiculous like 'terrific!' or 'groovy!' I sound like a right looney tune."

You chuckled. "I can tell that if you didn't have that censor on, you'd have the mouth of a sewer."

"Heck yeah. I'm goin' to town with all 'em bad words right now in my head," Boothill scoffed. "Love 'em, love 'em, love 'em—see what I mean? Hopeless. Wanna drop the f-bomb real bad."

"Perks of being a cyborg, indeed," you laughed, patting his shoulder. "It's rather funny to see such a tough-looking guy like you run around without anything else to yell but 'unicorns! Cotton candy!' when someone jumps you."

He snorted. "That's about right. Had one cutie pie try to mug me once and I was gonna swear his ear off, but all that came out was "look at this angel!" instead of 'punk', but it's a way more colourful word than that."

"Gotcha." You leaned your elbows against the wooden top of the bar. You opened your mouth to continued, but a sudden commotion at the other side of the bar cut you off. Glancing over also, you and Boothill watched as one drunk mountainous guy versus a scrawny little weasel of a man went tooth and nail at each other.

"How's the skinny one still alive?" Boothill amusedly remarked, leaning his cheek on his fist. "Looks like a cartoon."

"Happens all the time." You watched on rather boredly, almost wincing when the small guy very narrowly missed getting his face flattened by his opponent's massive fist. "Those two baffoons are too drunk to think of anything other than settle this scrap with punches. Makes for a good show, though."

Boothill hummed, before turning back to face you. "Can you fight?"

"Me? Well, I know basic self defence, and when to tell someone's spiked my drink." You pushed the beer jug around on the bar top absentmindedly. "This environment's dangerous for a woman. Gotta look out for myself around here. I should stay away, but I like my alcohol."

He chuckled, gazing at you. "Glad to hear that. You ain't some damsel in distress. You're really somethin', you know that, sugar?"

You blushed at his stare and words. "Oh, get off it. It's something every woman's got to know in life. We shouldn't have to, but we do. It's sad."

"Sure is." He pursed his lips, suddenly grave. He may have been a vagabond in a way, but that didn't mean he didn’t have morals. And then he playfully nudged you. "Ya know, seeing an independent, badass lady like you is real attractive."

You grinned. "Boy, if you were anyone else, I would've slapped you for that. That is an instant red flag for any woman in a bar."

"Well, I'll tell ya right now, I'd never harm a woman unless I had no other choice." Boothill stared at you. "Especially not for my own gain. Hurtin' people ain't fun, even though it's my lifestyle."

You shrugged, trying to ignore his intense gaze and the way your heart rate picked up. "A sad reality, but it's nice to come across a man with manners." You finished off your beer and stood, slinging your handbag strap over your shoulder, giving him a kind smile. "Well, thanks for the talk, Mr Boothill. You're a gem."

He stood after you, the spurs on his boots jingling with the movement, before he took your hand and pressed another smooth kiss to the top of it. Then he winked once more, just as a finishing touch, and your cheeks flared. "Any day, darlin'. Say, how about I give ya my phone number? Have another drink sometime."

"You sure? Your vigilante habits wouldn't get in the way of it?"

He laughed goodnaturedly. "Oho, that's funny, sugar. Nah, I'd always make time for you. Here, hand me ya phone."

So you did, and he swiftly typed in his number, before returning your phone to you. "There ya go. Send me a message so I'll know yours." Then Boothill stooped down to eye level with you, staring at you from beneath his lashes and hat, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair affectionately. "Till we meet again, sweetheart."

With that, and a lingering stare as he strode by, the cyborg cowboy left you stunned, heart pumping, phone limp in your hold. He was gone in a blink, giving you no room to wish him farewell also, so you did it by text.

you forgot to pay the bill for your drink

so I covered it for you.

you owe me one, cowboy

His reply didn't take long, and it made your face burn hotter.

Oopsies 🤭

How about I pay you back by taking you to dinner huh?

His emoji usage made you laugh. And so you accepted his offer.

Alright then

I want steak

Can you even eat?

You liked how he always replied fast.

Nah

But that's fine

Your company's better

Suffice to say, you liked the man's suave manner and flirty compliments. It made you feel exhilarated.

Maybe it was because of his classic cowboy moves. Tipping his hat to you in respectful greeting or goodbye, a gaze much too human for a cyborg, and his smooth gestures that made you hot all over.

Yeah. Maybe it was. But, either way, you couldn't wait to see him again.

© jqnehr 2024. all rights reserved. do not translate, repost/redistribute and plagarise any of my works.

#i saw somewhere that apparently boothill was mostly illiterate?? oh well if he this then that last part was ooc ig #anyways this was so fun to write OMG #boothill honkai star rail #hsr boothill #boothill x reader #boothill x you #boothill #boothill x y/n #boothill hsr #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #boothill x female reader

[dcxdpdabbles]

Wow you have a lot of series in your master post. Cave boy has been great.

I was wanting to know what would be next for Congratulations! It’s Triplets! ? Jason was horrified at the idea he passed on pit rage to his kids. But I reblogged how I thought that spiral would go. So how about him trying to explain or make it up to Jazz and the kiddos? with a twist of comedic twist of miscommunication and misinterpretation?

Though, there is no way there isn’t a media frenzy on the second Wayne son being a baby daddy. Even if there isn’t a photo there would be a story written. And that definitely limits Jason’s options in how he can try to make up for the disastrous zoo trip, as they have to lay low.

Oh the Wayne PR team will only be able to handle gossip so far so they need a long term plan for that too. Heh if they do decide on a public announcement then Bruce may be able to hang up his play boy persona and exchange it for the “grandpa that always has a hundred pictures of his grandkids on hand.” Or a gradual transition between those two personas.

Jazz was just momently thrown by the paparazzi. She is not used to the idea that she will be hounded just because she had a one-night stand with Jason.

Once she gets her wits about her, she'll treat it like Amity Park when her parents were out ghost hunting. Yes, she'll be called names in the media, but she's been called names all her life. She'll handle it.

Meanwhile, Jason will try to explain it, but he doesn't want to involve them in the nightlife, so he doesn't name it. Jazz will just assume he is talking about a mental illness that could be passed to the kids- like a meta version of bipolar or something.

Since the kids aren't really his—just a close copy of a dimension overdue—she doesn't think the three kids will have it. She doesn't mention it, though, because she doesn't want to mix the Waynes up in Ghost Politics.

The media will lose their minds, but everyone sort of knows Jason Todd was in witness protection for a while- that's why he disappeared when he was a teen, and Bruce even had a fake funeral- so they assume Jazz is from that time.

What gets most people's attention is Bruce Wayne being a dotting grandpa and the triplets being... unsettling. Jazz will eventually fall out of the limelight because she can be boring. (There are no big scandals for them to exploit. She didn't exist beforehand, so they can't dig into her past.)

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Congratulations! It’s Triplets! #Spoliers??? #More of a outline really

[bella-goths-wife]

I feel like we should have an actor au for the pet series where like the vees actors comfort the actor (who is the reader) after really distressing scenes I just like imagine vals actor being so sweet after the scene where val locked pet in a room with him to make her panic idk just a thought I would love to see because even though I luv the story line it always kills me when there is no comfort after things that happen even though sometimes they do comfort her it just makes me feel so icky and I feel like having an actor au will help people like me so that we can still enjoy it, with the reminder in the back of our heads that it is not real because even though its not real it still kinda feels real if you know what i mean because I get really immersed in x reader stories. I know this is a lot but just a suggestion no pressure I will still read and love it either way

I actually think this is a fun way to comfort the readers without straying from canon, I think I’ll probably do one for each of the characters each

Also they all have the same names as their characters :)

Vs pet actor au (Valentino version)

Warnings: val is worried, pet acts panicked, crying, non canon events,

“Come here princesa” val coos in his characters voice to your character as you act out a fake shiver of fear

You act out the scene of abuse with fake tears streaming down your face. The scene was one that you had been nervous about for weeks, having known that it was a disturbing scene to watch and film.

In the scene, vals character had locked your character in a room with him to imply that he would possibly assault her like he had done to angels character to cause her to panic and breakdown.

You and val had gone over lines together in your trailer and lamented about how it would be a rough filming day for the two of you, considering you had the punishment scene to film just after.

But you put on a brave face as you acted out your scene with minimal distraction. You followed the script and your weeping character sat beside Val on the soft couch as the camera did a close up on your face to ensure they captured the panic in your eyes and the quiver in your bitten lips.

as it came time for val’s character Valentino to touch your thigh in a menacing implication, he did so and you felt a shiver uncomfortably run through you.

You suddenly became hyper aware of the people behind the cameras who had their eyes peeled on you, and how the pink lighting shined so brightly on you.

As your cue came to jump into val’s arms, you froze completely with your face lowered to your thigh and tears running down your cheeks.

“Cut” the director called out and it broke you out your frozen daydream

“Everything okay kid?” Val whispers with a concerned look as he removes his hand from your thigh

“I don’t think I can do it” you whisper back through tears as you face your back to the cameras

“Everything okay up there guys?” The director called out with a concerned expression

Val uses his wings to hide your face and tucked you against his chest before he answered, making sure to spare you any embarrassment.

“We’re gonna need a 15 minute break” val called back politely “private please”

The director nodded with an understanding look before calling most of the set to go on a break away from the filming Scene.

Val turned to you and put a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you okay kid?” Val asks with a worried look as he pulls you away from his chest to observe your expression

“Yeah” you say with a shaky inhale as you wipe your tearful eyes with your palm “it all got a bit much for me”

“I get it kid, it’s a hard scene to film for everyone” val says with a nod and a soothing tone “that’s why I tried to put it off for as long as possible”

“I’m just not used to doing scenes like this guess” you say with a sigh “I had the same problem with Vox during our panic scene, I think it just gets too much for me”

“Your playing a very difficult role honey, it’s understandable that you’ll get a bit freaked out during your scenes” val says gently

“I can’t believe I made them stop shooting, I bet they’re all so mad at me now” you say with an embarrassed groan “I should have just continued”

“Hey, hey, no one is mad at you” val says with a reassuring tone “your having to put yourself in very disturbing scenarios, you have every right to stop filming when you feel uncomfortable and anyone who tells you otherwise hasn’t got a clue about how much work these scenes take”

You nod with a frown, still embarrassed about your freak out, Val notices and wraps his arm around your shoulder

“How about we go get some water and then go talk to the intimacy coordinator about how we can make it feel less overwhelming” val suggests with a smile “or we can try and ask if we could use your body double for the scenes where my hand is physically touching you”

“Yeah” you say with a small nod and a smile “let’s go talk to the intimacy coordinator please”

“Of course sweetheart” val says with a gentle smile as he wraps his hand and wing around your shoulders and begins to guide you to the door.

You managed to work out a way to make the scene to work after a few different attempts and you captured your best shots before retreating to your trailer with Val in tow as you both celebrated a successful scene by eating food while you had your wigs, makeup and costumes removed.

After that day, Val made it a point to always be present during your harder scenes and was always checking in on you during the breaks between takes. He also made sure to update the intimacy coordination on your preferences so they could be added to your filming contract.

You were the youngest of the actors he was working with, and he wanted to make sure you were completely protected while on set.

Should I do more?

Sorry it’s so short 😭

Tag list:

@the-faceless-bride @idontreallyexistyet @ivebeenthearchersstuff @hazbinhotelxreader @fandomaddict505 @corvid007 @buttercupfangirl @lilyalone @rerarlo @perkypeony @sparkleyfishies @repostingmyfavs

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[thebroccolination]

“IF NO ONE ACCEPTS YOU, YOU HAVE ME”

Lately I’ve seen the narrative around Krist shifting from “he’s homophobic” to “he was homophobic, but he got better :)” so!

Let’s go back to a moment in 2017 during a ceremony where Krist and Singto accepted an award from the Thai branch of the gay magazine Attitude (now defunct). That’s the magazine that published this photoshoot:

[Attitude, 2018, promoting SOTUS S] (they also did one in 2016 for SOTUS)

Krist said that a friend of his once came out to his parents, and the parents wouldn’t accept him, so Krist told his friend, “It’s okay. If no one accepts you, you have me, and I accept you for who you are.”

So, yes, Krist was hotheaded when people kept harassing him about his sexuality, but can anyone truly blame him? No one looks at all the times he answered politely. Just the one time he broke. [EDIT: I just spoke with someone who was there when the infamous IG story was posted, and they said: “Krist's tone and demeanour when he emphatically said "no" was like, y'know, still friendly. It's like when friends tease you relentlessly and you say ‘no’ more forcefully to get them to stop?” And that actually was my first impression of it back in 2020—a joke that landed badly. And it lines up with his first apology: that he felt badly because his answer was taken out of context.]

There are people today who film these guys at the urinal. Who treat them like property because of money and time spent on them. Who hire trucks to drive around their company building making demands. And it’s 2024. GMMTV has legal teams on this stuff now. But you and I can’t imagine what kind of invasiveness Krist and Singto went through in 2016 as one of the first pairs in the BL industry to gain overnight fame and rabid, unprecedented focus from millions. Of course he snapped. It’s widely known that fans and reporters target Krist over Singto to get information even today because Singto never gives anyone the satisfaction of a reaction, but Krist is a people-pleaser and truly struggles with saying no to people. He’s always been the emotional one, the one who overthinks, the one desperate to make people happy. And when fans wanted to force KristSingto to publicly say that they were secretly dating, fans thought they could get Krist to break first, and they were right. (Personally, I always thought the Instagram story was an exaggerated joke that was a barely veiled “drop it.” EDIT: I’m glad at least one person who was there at the time can corroborate this.)

Then interfans came along, marked him as an easy target, and maliciously miscast him as a bigot to wave after wave of new interfans who never bothered to research further after a random person on the internet told them he’s a homophobe.

Krist asked his parents for their blessing to audition for SOTUS when he was still a teenager. He was afraid of what they’d think, but because his parents are lovely people, they supported him. And they still do. Krist’s father has a running joke that he’ll let Krist marry Singto if Singto brings a durian for the dowry.

I never included Singto in my clarification thread because I knew how quickly people would dismiss anything with Singto as conniving, tricksy fanservice. But you really don’t know anything about Krist until you see him with people he considers his safe spaces. That includes people like Mike. Like Gawin. Godji. Oat. These people who love him because he’s earned it.

I know I talk about this a lot. But I won’t ignore it when people try to twist his character, especially with I see them making assumptions about the premise of Ex-Morning. All I believe is that he was angry and afraid and overwhelmed. Then he reacted, apologized, and learned how to handle the fame and the invasiveness better.

Please stop trying to claw marrow out of a past mirage.

#krist perawat #i’m just gonna post this now before ex-morning promo and kristsingto activities really get going #leave my son alone thank you

[pomefioredove]

Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…

So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse

Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good

Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!

ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3

summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent type of post: short fics characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it

Jamil Viper

Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.

That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.

Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.

It's a bit strange, isn't it?

Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.

He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.

But that sense of unease doesn't go away.

He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.

And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.

"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."

You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.

"Thank you," you mumble.

You can't think of anything else to say.

"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.

"I'm fine,"

Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.

"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.

"I've... had a rough day,"

Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"

He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.

"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."

You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"

It.

What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.

"Did something happen?"

You hesitate.

"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"

Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.

He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.

But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.

"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"

"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."

He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.

He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.

"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"

Unlike me, he thinks.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"

Like me.

You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.

A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

"Thank you, Jamil,"

He hugs back. "Of course,"

Ruggie Bucchi

It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.

You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.

Ruggie included.

He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.

He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.

And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.

Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?

He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.

Sigh.

"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.

Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"

"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."

The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.

"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.

"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"

You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.

You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"

"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."

The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"

"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"

Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.

"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"

"Did you find it?"

"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"

You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.

After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"

"What?"

"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"

You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.

Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"

"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"

"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"

He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"

"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"

You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.

And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He struggles to respond for a moment.

"That's rough,"

Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.

"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."

"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."

He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"

The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.

"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"

Leona Kingscholar

Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.

Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...

But that didn't bother him. Not at all.

As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.

That plan lasts about five hours.

"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"

That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.

And it's getting closer.

"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."

Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.

"I'm trying,"

This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.

"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"

Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.

He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.

"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."

"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"

This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.

You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"

"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"

"This is-"

"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.

"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"

Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"

"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."

You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?

"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.

"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"

"Your... offer...?"

Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"

"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"

He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."

Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.

"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."

Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"

"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."

"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.

As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"

"Are you alright?" he asks.

Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"

"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"

"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"

Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.

"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"

You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"

"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"

He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"

Floyd Leech

Of course, he can tell something's up right away.

Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.

His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?

Now this catches his attention.

"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.

"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."

"But you're not,"

"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"

Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.

"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.

You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"

"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"

Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.

"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"

"Why?"

There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.

"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"

He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"

"FLOYD!"

He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.

When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.

"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."

You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"

"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.

Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"

"Are they ill?"

You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"

"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"

Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"

"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.

Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.

"Now will you tell me?"

"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"

Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"

"Tell me about it,"

"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"

You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"

"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."

"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.

His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"

His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"

"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"

"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"

His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.

You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"

"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"

You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"

Rollo Flamme

Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.

The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.

The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?

They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.

He loathed being talked down to.

Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.

And now you're just quiet.

"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.

You shrug.

"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"

No response at all.

Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.

"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"

"No,"

A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.

"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"

That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"

He struggles for the right words.

How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.

Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.

Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?

He couldn't quite come up with an answer.

"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."

"It's not your fault,"

"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"

A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.

"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.

Another pause.

"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jamil viper x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #floyd leech x reader #rollo flamme x reader #can't believe this is the first time I've written for rollo on this blog... bby I've missed u

[ivantillz]

can u write a fic of ivantill navigating their feelings after the kiss if they were both saved by the rebels

Till was annoyed. He was also feeling a lot of other things, undoubtedly, but annoyance was at the top of the list because why wouldn't they just let him see Ivan already?

"Can you please stop pacing?"

He paused mid-step and glanced over at Mizi.

"I just found out one of my friends who I honestly thought was dead has actually been alive this whole time and my other friend is currently being operated on after nearly giving his life to save me. Sorry if I'm a little antsy."

Mizi gave a small smile, undeterred by his bluntness as usual. Or what used to be usual. Till wasn't so sure what had or hadn't changed.

"He'll be okay, I promise." Even as she said it, her eyes were drawn to the closed door. They couldn't even hear anything through the thick metal. "You heard them; the wound was pretty minor. Just grazed his side."

Till pressed his lips into a thin line, hands curled into fists at his sides.

"Why did he do that?" he asked, barely louder than a whisper. Mizi stood up and crossed the hall, drawing him into a hug. He used to dream about this - having her undivided attention - but now it did little to ease the terrible pain in his chest.

Sniffing once, he hugged her tight. She didn't say anything, even as began to cry into her shoulder.

-

It was nearly two hours before the door opened and one of the healers - Mizi had introduced them but honestly Till couldn't remember her name; he had been kind of traumatized at the time, okay? - stepped out.

Till tried very hard not to focus on the blood staining the front of her shirt. "He's stable," she said.

"Okay, great." Till didn't even wait before trying to push past her; she didn't budge. "Come on! I just want to see him."

She smiled politely. "I didn't say you couldn't. Just try and be quiet, okay? He might be doze in and out, don't try to force him to stay awake."

Till pursed his lips. "I know," he grumbled. Mizi joined his side.

"Thank you," she said. With a shared nod, the healer left. Inside the room was the other healer; he quietly set a rag on Ivan's forehead before also leaving the room.

"He still has a slight fever," he explained. "If he asks, you can refresh the rag." He pointed to a bucket on the table with what Till could only hope was clean water.

Once he was gone, Till walked over to the bed and sat down. Mizi sat on the other side of the bed. Ivan hadn't stirred since they walked in.

He looked bad - terrible, even. His skin was even paler than usual, there was a bit of crusted blood still at the corner of his mouth, dark circles under his eyes.

But he was alive, and that was all that mattered.

"I'll just stay until he wakes up," Mizi said quietly, staring at him. "I just want to make sure he's okay."

Till had almost forgotten he wasn't the only one who had been wounded by what happened. He suddenly felt a little guilty.

"You don't have to leave," he said instead.

She smiled over at him; there was something about the look in her eyes that made Till feel exposed. He didn't like the feeling. "I think you two need to talk."

He didn't argue, even if the last thing he wanted to do right now was talk about what had happened. Any of it.

-

Ivan woke up about ten minutes later; he was groggy, as expected, voice hoarse and scratchy.

"Here." Till moved without even thinking, grabbing a cup he had noticed on the table a little earlier.

Ivan was too weak to even hold it. Till adapted quickly; he held the cup to his lips and tilted it back a little. Once Ivan was done, he set it aside again.

"So," he licked his lips. "I guess this isn't heaven, huh?"

Mizi laughed softly. "Not even close. But you're safe here, at least."

He sighed, groaning a little as he tried to sit up. Till moved quickly, gently grabbing his arm to help him. He wasn't even sure if he should be moving yet but he wasn't about to fight him; that just seemed like asking for even more trouble.

"I really expected to die up there," he said once he was settled, the rag fallen at his side. Till grabbed it, plopping it in the bucket for now.

Mizi pressed her lips together. "I think I'm going to go see if they have anything that'll be easy enough on your stomach," she said, gently touching Ivan's shoulder as she stood.

"I'm not hungry," he replied automatically.

She clicked her tongue. "Too bad; you need to eat to recover."

Without waiting for a reply, she swept around the bed and paused just long enough to squeeze Till's shoulder once before leaving the room.

The silence was almost suffocating.

"You weren't really choking me," Till blurted.

Ivan side-eyed him. "Of course not," he said slowly. "Did you really think I would?"

Till opened his mouth, closed it. "I'm not really sure of anything anymore," he admitted quietly.

"It was just a ploy," Ivan continued, looking away. "I don't know. I just needed them to believe it."

It was silent again for a few beats. Till stared at his hands.

"You could've killed me," he said eventually. "I didn't care."

He chanced a look; Ivan was still staring ahead at nothing, his mouth a tight line. "I would've never let that happen," he said and for a moment Till wasn't sure what he meant until - "I would've done anything to ensure your safety."

And that was the crux of it, huh?

Till thought of Ivan's hands around his throat, surprisingly gentle. He thought about his mouth. His lips. He had kissed Till like he was searching for something. Like he needed something.

"You kissed me," he said. It felt weird, finally saying the words.

Ivan snorted, shaking his head minutely. "I did." He side-eyed Till again. "I know it was selfish of me. I know."

"But if you could do it over again, would you still kiss me?"

Till wasn't even sure what had motivated him to ask. Ivan smiled; it was almost sad. "Probably."

He nodded. He wasn't upset. He wasn't even sure if he had been upset, in the moment, not for longer than a second. Mostly he had been confused.

But now that he had time to think on it, he wasn't so confused anymore.

"I never knew," he mused quietly. "I mean." He looked up, suddenly a little angry. "You never told me. You should've told me."

All that time he had been chasing after Mizi and a part of him had always known it was never going to happen. She had loved - she still did - love Sua.

Time wasted. He had never even considered...

"There was no reason to burden you with my own feelings," Ivan said evenly. "I'm selfish, maybe, but I didn't want to make things even more complicated for you."

Till breathed out through his nose. "You really think you were doing that for my sake?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice level. "You think you had the right to decide what was best for me?"

Ivan stared back at him, eyes as dark as ever. "I don't understand."

"You kept it from me," Till continued, pressing a hand to his chest, "because you were scared to say it. You were scared of how I would respond."

Ivan let out a humorless laugh. "We both know how you would've responded, Till." He sighed. "This is a pointless argument to have."

He still wasn't getting it. "No," he said, leaning closer. "We don't know how I would've responded because you never gave me the chance."

"Just like you gave the same chance to Mizi?" he shot back.

Till pressed his lips together. "That is not the same and you know it. Sua loved her back. It was different. I - " He paused, biting the inside of his cheek.

Suddenly the fight was drained out of him. Ivan eyed him warily.

"You what?" he asked, looking cautious and almost nervous. Till had never seen that expression on his face. He always looked so in control of everything. It was nice to be reminded he was really just human like the rest of them.

Till swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I think I could've liked you, Ivan. If only I had known."

Ivan stared at him like he wasn't really seeing him. "No," he said, too fast. He looked more scared, here, than he had up on that stage.

"Didn't factor that into your little plan, huh?" he asked; without asking, he pulled the rag out of the water and wrung it before leaning forward to gently scrub away the dried blood on his chin. "I don't think I ever really liked her, not in the way I thought I did."

Ivan was silent, his jaw clenched.

"I was just - I needed something. An escape. A dream. She was nice to me. Pretty..." Till sat back. "I think I just really wanted someone to care about me."

Ivan glanced at him briefly before looking away again.

"But this whole time I was blind to see I had that," Till felt his eyes burning. "Maybe you weren't as obvious about it, maybe you had your own way of showing it, but... that doesn't matter." He tossed the rag aside and reached for his hand; Ivan stiffened as he grabbed it but didn't pull away. "I would like to have a second chance."

Ivan stared at their hands. "You don't owe me this," he said, voice still carefully even.

"I'm not offering anything because I feel like endowed to you," he squeezed his hand, hard. "You know me well enough to know I wouldn't do that. Now stop fighting me on this and look at me."

Ivan lifted his head.

"Thank you, Ivan," he said, staring into his eyes - dark, yes, but warm, comforting and familiar - "for caring about me, even when I couldn't see it."

Ivan opened his mouth, closed it. He squeezed his hand back. If Till didn't know better, he would even say he was blushing a little.

Maybe he would always have a bit of regret for not really seeing Ivan earlier. Maybe Ivan would apologize many more times for kissing him without permission. Maybe he would try to apologize for hurting Till, even if he didn't. Not really. All the pain he had felt - the real pain - was cured the moment he had known he would be okay. Maybe they would still struggle a lot, have bad and good days, but maybe that was okay.

#alnst #ivantill #alien stage #ivantill fic #alnst till #alnst ivan #alnst mizi #mywriting #hope u enjoy anon! #ivantill requests/prompts are open to all btw #they rly help motivate me soooo

[ros3ybabe]

🎀 Overcoming Gym Anxiety 🎀

I got asked about this through my inbox by @sxfiaaa so I figured I'd make a post about it and hopefully help a lot of people with something I too used to struggle with!

🩷 Wear Comfortable Clothing

We've all seen the beautifully dressed people on Tiktok, Pinterest, etc in their matching sets and cutr gym clothes. If that is what you're comfortable wearing to the gym, do it! Wear it, and be confident in it! If you're more of a loose clothes/sweatpants/baggy shirts or hoodie type of person, do that! Wear whatever you feel comfortable (and cute) in, because the better you feel going into a workout, the more you'll be able to focus on your workout!

🩷 Know What You're Doing When You're There

This just means go in with a plan! You don't need to know how to use every single machine or do every single exercise known to mankind. Scroll tiktok or pinterest for some workout videos for inspo (please make sure the video you get inspo from shows proper form!!! Proper form is so important for being safe!!)

If you know you can go certain days of the week, make a workout split to follow that! EX 3 day split: Monday - Leg Day, Wednesday - Upper Body, Friday - Full Body

OR, if you just want to go do cardio, then plan for that! I didn't know how to use a treadmill, but I went to the gym at my university and stood on the treadmill til I figured it out!

🩷 Remember This

No one is going to look at you and judge you or think mean things about you. Everyone is at the gym for the purpose of bettering themselves and their health. If you find people giving you occasional glances, maybe it's because they don't recognize you from the gym (or they do recognize you from somewhere else), maybe their admiring your outfit/physique, maybe their avid gym goers who are watching your form and technique, or maybe their just zoned out and you happen to be in the line of sight.

When I'm at the gym, I look around between sets and take note on other people's form to see if maybe I should tweak the way I do a certain exercise, or I'm admiring another girls outfit or physique because there are a lot of beautiful women at the gym. Sometimes, I'm thinking "dang, they're lifting so heavy, how cool!" or "wow, their form is amazing, they really know what they're doing." I've never thought bad abut someone at the gym because why would I?

🩷 Don't Be Scared To Ask For Help

if there an exercise you really want to do but don't know how and videos aren't helping, ask someone around you who isn't in the middle of an exercise and looks like they may know. The guy at the gym doing upper body who has good biceps may be the right guy to ask about upper body exercises. The girl doing impeccable Bulgarian Split Squats might be the right person to ask for help with those types of movements. Just make sure they aren't in the middle of an exercise, because that can cause some unwanted issues, especially if they're mid-rep, that can turn into a safety issue.

People love to help people, especially at the gym. If you politely ask for help from someone, they may take it as a compliment that you think they look like a person who is knowledgeable on working out. I'd definitely be so flattered if someone asked me for help or advice at the gym!

🩷 Random Advice:

remember your why! no matter how anxious you are, remember why you're going! what are your goals, what do you hope to achieve, how proud will you feel after?

start small if you have to! if it's really anxiety inducing to start working out, make it your first goal to at least step into the gym. then 2nd goal, walk around the gym to get a feel for it. 3rd goal, maybe 5-10 minutes on a treadmill, and then keep building momentum each day.

be careful with the hours you go! there is such a thing as peak gym hours. It varies by place, but a lot of gyms are busy between 2pm and 6pm I've seen. I personally love going to the gym super early morning, it's a little less busy and I'm a morning person so it works out for me! If you can only go during peak hours, bring a friend or keep your headphones on and do your thing!

Bring a friend! If you're really anxious about going alone, bring a friend with similar goals! Sometimes it can be a lot nicer to learn something new with a friend then try and learn it on your own! Plus, it's like extra motivation and accountability!

Have a motivating pre workout routine. Play some music while getting ready, prep your bags, prep your playlist, get your workout itself figured out, and just keep yourself excited to go! I love blasting high-energy music that makes me feel like a baddie on my way to the gym.

I hope this was helpful!! My thoughts were everywhere but I tried to convey them as best as possible! I'm happy to answer any questions or offer more tips and advice, don't feel scared to ask! <3

til next time lovelies 🩷

#pink pilates girl #pink pilates princess #self development #wonyoungism #it girl #mental health #self care #physical health #that girl #self love #clean girl #green juice girl #that girl energy #becoming that girl #it girl self care #it girl energy #health and fitness #pink moodboard #pink blog #pink aesthetic #pilates tips #pilates aesthetic #vanilla girl #dream girl #girl blogger #college student #student life #high value woman #wonyoung motivation #wonyoung aesthetic

[c0mbatchameleon]

hi anna my love would you mind telling us what the possession au is about 🥺🤲🏼💗

LUNEEE ABSOLUTELY ABSOFRUITLY I CAN.

Ok so the tldr here is James is a demon that possesses reg. This all came from a drunk 3am note in my phone about the “intimacy of literally inhabiting the same body, to become a singular noun; my thoughts are yours now, you don’t even know where you end and I begin, your soul would feel so empty without me here to fill in all the gaps” etc etc. Right ok. Long ramblings below, be warned.

So picture regulus, our resident high-strung control freak who has lived as a puppet on a string at the whims of his family ever since he was a teenager and they began staging him to join / eventually take over their major capitalist conglomerate empire or whatever. Iffy on the details still but there’s a lot of politics involved. Think like the richest of the rich in the world and they want to keep their family on the top—regulus is their vessel to do so.

And the thing is, he goes above and beyond. He gave up on trying to escape the life he’s been (to him) imprisoned in a long time ago, and his (perceived) lack of control and agency has only driven him to climb higher, hungry for even more disgusting amounts of wealth and power, fuck everyone else, he wants to be at the fucking top, and maybe then he’ll be free. He’s terrible and he’s miserable and he’s everything they wanted him to be, he feels like a slave to time and to the life that was carved out for him, and it manifests in him exerting extreme amounts of control over the one thing he can have some semblance of control over, which is his own body.

(slight tw for disordered / obsessive eating / body habits?)

Picture him scheduling his days down to the minute. He wakes up at 5:30am everyday after getting the exact amount of sleep to complete five rem cycles, he has a strict workout regimen every day perfectly planned out for the week, meals all the same mapped out down to the calorie. You’d think he’s in the army. His skincare routine puts patrick bateman to shame. He jerks off once a week cuz he thinks it has health benefits or keeps him sharp or something (if you’ve watched The End of the Fucking World I’m pretty sure this is where my brain subconsciously picked this from) and it’s mechanical and he’s dead in the eyes and he knows it will take him exactly 5 minutes and 8 seconds to come.

And then. Suddenly. He’s having weird dreams about some man he doesn’t know and they’re making him feel things when he has specifically trained his body to NOT feel things and what’s happening to him? And then dreams become daydreams. And then he’s losing time. HES LOSING TIME. Which is literally his worst nightmare. It’s making him fuckinf spiral, his routines are being thrown off, the small semblance of control is slipping, so he’s already at his wits fucking end when a goddamn voice in his head starts talking to him. Like that’ll do it.

But then the voice, the man, the figure from his dreams, James, is telling him to relax. Telling him you’re so wound up. I can feel it, you know? How tired you are. It’s okay baby, let me take the reins for the day. You just have to sit back up in that head of yours—of ours—and let it all turn to static for a bit. Don’t worry. I’ll give you your body back tonight. Don’t you trust me? Wouldn’t it feel good to just.. let go for a bit?

And eventually regulus discovers that it DOES feel good. He fucking loves it. He gives up control willingly for the first time, he lets James do it all for him, to move him around like a puppet in the most literal sense but it’s different from his family, from everyone else. It’s freeing.

and it’s like this weird corruption-anticorruption thing because yes james is influencing him and planting thoughts in his head and literally taking over his body at points but it’s all to make him do…kinda good things? “Fuck the company, don’t show up today, let’s go to the coast like you used to as a kid,” “don’t pick up the phone, I know you’ve never declined your mother’s call before, but just try. Don’t you feel powerful?” Until eventually reg is sabotaging the company, his family, he’s basically suicide-bombing the stock market, he’s giving all his money away, etc etc. he’s more free than he’s ever felt in his life and to the outside world he looks absolutely insane and, shit, maybe he is, but it feels fucking amazing.

I just love the thought of James’ more mundane influence on him too. He’s craving hot Cheetos for the first time in his life and absolutely appalled and confused and James is like “shit my bad I was thinking abt them.” James has him smoke weed for the first time (the scene I have planned for this……) and he has to take over to roll the joint for him. Why the fuck is reg enjoying abba music? But also—why the fuck is a demon enjoying abba music?

I’ve rambled way too much so I’ll reign it in there. Lots of details subject to change, but this is basically all I’m thinking abt these days.

#lovely lovely lune thank you for indulging me #I fear this response got away from me. forgive me—I’ve been possessed once again #fic / possession au #lune tag #mail #jegulus #jegulus fic #regulus black #james potter

[tj-dragonblade]

popping my head in to ask about Mer Hob 👀 from the WIP title ask game

Finally popping my head back up to answer, my apologies for the wait! Mer-Hob came out of server conversations about mer-Dreamling fish assignments and aquatic mating displays, but he kind of fizzled out with the scene I tried to write. Dusting him off for this, though, I think I can breathe the spark back into it. Take it past where I meant to before, so it will have a more satisfactory conclusion. I have scrapped the lackluster 'how did they meet' that was stalling me out and given them new backstory and now I'm unsure how exactly I want to structure this. Start where I've started and then jump back to the meeting, then bring them back to the present? Make the backstory a separate fic? Rearrange the whole thing chronologically, which would require a lot of rework and shortening of the current opening bit? IDK but I'll figure it out. In the meantime, here is a chunky chunk of drafting for their meet-cute (sfw but cut for length):

Dream is not surprised to find a waterline-level cave out on the rock formation in the bay, on the side not visible from shore. Nor is he overly surprised to find someone stretched out in the handsbreadth of water covering the floor with their eyes closed, as the morning light fills the first several feet of the cave brightly in a way that is conducive to sunbathing.

The fact that the sunbather has a bright orange tail with brilliant yellow fins and blue-black leopard-like spots is rather less expected, however, and Dream gasps his surprise.

The sound startles the man—the merman—surely not?—who sits bolt upright, eyes wide and panicking as he locks gazes with Dream not an arm's length away.

Dream's heart skips a beat. He's beautiful—

"Oh, fuck!" The merman—there is no other explanation, no mistaking the flurry of fins and scales as he moves—the merman twists and flops and dives past Dream, a less-than-graceful plunge off the rock and into the sea and then he is gone.

"Wait!" Dream cries, to the bright flick of yellow vanishing into the depths, but of course it is no use.

He could swim back to the boat, could don his diving gear and follow—but no. The merman is already gone, and will be more so by the time Dream could be equipped to give chase.

He swallows back his disappointment, his disbelief, and tells himself resolutely that he surely imagined the entire thing.

But he did not imagine it, he knows this; the knowledge lodges in his mind, burrows down into his consciousness and curls around his common sense, stokes his curiosity.

He saw a merman.

Merpeople do not exist.

But he saw one.

He returns the next day, hoping perhaps to repeat the discovery, but he is the only visitor to the cave in the hours that he spends there. When the tide has gone out and come back in, high enough once more to cover the floor of the cave, when he has spent all day waiting with nothing to show for it, he admits defeat and swims back to his boat.

He returns again, and again, later each day with the drift of the tide, diving to explore beneath the surface when the cave remains empty. He finds nothing of note, nothing to hint at the existence of merfolk, nothing at all out of the ordinary; by day six, he is trying to convince himself to make peace with the likelihood that he will never find any trace of the merman he knows he had seen.

On day seven, the merman is back, sunbathing at the front of the cave again.

Only this time, he has human legs, is wearing swim trunks, is sitting further away from where Dream is treading water, stunned.

"…Hello," Dream manages.

"Hi," the man says, warmly polite. He is cross-legged with his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped around them, one hand holding the other wrist; he is meant to look casual and relaxed, Dream is certain, but the tension and the nervousness coming off of him are palpable.

He is still beautiful.

"You're. I saw you here, before?" His thoughts are still trying to catch up; he hoists himself into the cave, doesn't move closer.

The man's shoulders drop a tiny fraction. "Yeah, yep! Startled me good, you did!" He chuckles lightly, a carefree and casual sound; the fingers of his dangling hand wriggle, a nervous and distracted sort of gesture that draws Dream's attention to the profusion of hair on his bare legs, and arms, and what Dream can see of his chest.

"You had a. A tail, last time," Dream says, somewhat awkwardly, tearing his gaze from the sprinkling of hair on the man's bare toes.

"Oh, that, yes!" The man grins, bright and disarming. "I'm a mermaid performer, with the, ah, the local carnival."

Dream is convinced this is a lie even as the logical part of his brain points out that this explanation makes far more sense than believing in merfolk. He knows what he saw, the flexing of muscle and the fanning of fins, the bending and twisting that did not match up to the way that human legs would move in that configuration. The merman speaks with casual confidence, but the tension in his frame and the nervous fidget of his clasped hand are easy to read.

"…No, I don't think you are," Dream says, and the man's bright smile dips before returning to full wattage.

"Calling me a liar, are you?" He laughs, a light and enchanting sound that Dream immediately wants to hear more of. "Merfolk, they don't actually exist, I'll have you know."

~ The wip tag has a tiiiny bit more of this one, also.

#TJs Writing #askmemes #Sandman #Dreamling #wip: merhob #merfolk

[targaryenluvs]

TOO SWEET / SOULLESS!SAM WINCHESTER

PAIRINGS: Soulless Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: You were simply just trying to get through your day, he found himself enticed by your kindness and unwilling to let go.

WARNINGS: Innocence kink, teasing, flattery, size diff kink, dacryphillia, hair pulling, non-con/dub-con, rough, angry Sam, p in v, fingering, cream pie, babying, virgin reader, blood, scratches

WORDCOUNT: 3K Words

A/N: I can’t just write a sweet Sam fic and not balance out the scales! This is a bit self indulgent so short!reader. Also I’m not an avid drinker so bare with me at the bar 😭 @lady-ashfade here it is!!

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

A03 Link

You hadn’t meant to bump into him, no one bumps into people on purpose. But you were scared of running out of time before the shop closed and weren’t really caring about your surroundings.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry!” You immediately apologised whilst grabbing everything that had dropped to the floor. His hands grazed yours and you froze up, making eye contact with the man. “No, it was my fault.” His voice mocked the concern in yours, even if it didn’t reach his eyes.

You laughed, “Are you kidding? I totally bumped into you, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” You stood up with all your belongings in hand and with a smile. “I should be on my way. Again, I’m so sorry.” Sam shook his head, “You don’t need to keep apologising.”

Your lips pressed into a tight smile as you nodded, “Okay.” The awkwardness of your interaction was practically unbearable. “I’ll be on my way, have a nice day.” Sam watched as you walked away, and he couldn’t help but laugh. Not out of happiness but intrigue.

He wanted more, and he wasn’t going to stop until he did.

You were sweet, unnaturally so, he wanted a taste.

So with out your knowledge of course, he followed you. For the rest of the day he was right behind you, and you were blissfully unaware. You finished up with your groceries about an hour later and finally crossing off everything to do that day.

As you stood near the exit with your cart you couldn’t help but sigh. Seven bags, loaded, and paper with only two arms. Your car was in the shop so you’d put off a lot of things, which resulted in them piling up.

So you decided for a delivery instead, but you had to wait until the truck came back to allow them to pick your groceries up and eventually drop them off. You wondered if they’d give you a ride in all honesty.

You waited outside the doors whilst reading a magazine you bought, which was surprisingly interesting.

You really should be more aware of your surroundings.

“Do you need some help?” You glanced upwards at the sound of a familiar voice, the man from before. He was so tall and pretty, “Oh! No, I’m just waiting.” You smiled widely as you placed the magazine inside a bag. “I didn’t catch your name back there, I’m Y/n.” Sam smiled, “Nice to meet you Y/n, I’m Sam.” His eyes trailed down, you were wearing a low cut dress, it sure as hell suited you.

“Completing some shopping are we?” He chuckled at the notion, Sam, grocery shopping like a normal person. “I was about to, until I saw your gorgeous self.” His words made you giggle, you could feel your face grow hotter. “Oh god, you are— that’s so sweet.” Your hands intertwined with eachother as you looked down to your feet, a strand falling in front of your eyes.

Sam’s hand darted out to tuck it behind your ear, “Oh, thank you.” Your voice was sweet, he wondered if you were this shy in bed. “No problem. I was wondering—,”

“Ma’am?” A worker came outside with a smile, “Trucks here, would you like me to unpack it all for you?” You nodded quickly, “Oh yes, please.” You were always so polite. “Someone as pretty as you shouldn’t be doing it all herself am I right?” Sam’s jaw tightened as he watched your face flush, “I’ll help her unload.”

You both turned to Sam, “No you don’t need to seriously.” The look in Sam’s eyes was unsettling, and you thought the worker noticed it too. “I’ll help.” It wasn’t an ask, he was telling you. And you were the furthest thing from confrontational, so you let him take the cart. The worker passed a clipboard to you to fill out your address, Sam passed it onto the driver.

Sam couldn’t figure out for the life of him why he wanted you so badly, he couldn’t care less usually about some random girl. But there was something about you that drew him to you, you were so, innocent. In need. And he wanted to sink his teeth into you, badly.

Once he was done you offered him a tight lipped smile, unsure of his mood, “Thank you Sam, you didn’t have to at all.” He knew he didn’t have to, “It’s nothing really, you needed the help.” Sam couldn’t help but grin when he noticed you quite literally straining your neck to look up at him. You were so, pocket sized.

As if I can’t load groceries into a trunk? His words made you seem weak, but you brushed it off. “I don’t how to repay—,”

Bad choice of words sweetheart.

“Let me take you out.”

Somehow you’d managed to let him smooth talk you into a hang out. So here you were, sitting with him at the bar. Sam was anything but boring. He had about a million comments locked and loaded for every second. You found yourself enthralled by him, it’d been far too long since you enjoyed yourself on a night out.

“You’re lying!”

“I’m not, at all. Believe what you want Sweetheart.” The nickname made you want to kick your feet and smile. Sam was so, amazing. He was tall, handsome, funny and kind. You could’ve maybe added chivalrous to the list. Sam waved over the bartender, he’d finished his third beer whilst you nursed a Cosmo.

Sam raised an eyebrow at your drink, you’d had it for about twenty minutes and before it a coke. “Pacing yourself are we?” The glass turned in your hands as you sighed, “I don’t drink that often honestly.”

“No?” Sam feigned interest, “Yeah, I’m more of the designated driver. I find it better to have fun sober in all honesty rather than waking up with a pounding headache and unaware of my surroundings.” Getting blackout drunk wasn’t on everyone’s to do lists which was respectable he guessed. “Good girl.”

The words made your eyes widen as you took another sip, Sam noticed. He found your shyness cute. Usually by know a girl was pawing at him, hinting towards a get away to her place or at least flirting. But you were just, talking. Like you wanted to get to know him rather than fuck him.

He found it adorable at the start, you barely knew what you were doing. But with your tits on display, and him being more than tall enough to look down your dress, he wanted nothing more than to get out of the place.

It’d been thirty minutes since his third beer. He was on his seventh and you were on another coke. Sam was so close to blowing up. The way you looked up at him, when your lips chased after the liquid in your cup, and your cute little body in that short dress.

You glanced at the clock on the wall and gasped, you had work you needed to submit by 11 and it was already 10. “I completely lost track of time, oh my god!” Sam watched as you smiled at the bartender, swiftly tossing down a thirty as you swung your bag over your shoulder.

Sam placed his beer down, undeniably irritated by your sudden departure, “Thank you so much for such a nice night Sam, it was really nice getting to know you. I hope we can maybe see eachother again?” You barely waited for an answer before placing a peck on his cheek.

“I’ll see you around?”

It was the last thing you said before you bolted out the door. Sam was surprisingly stunned, within a minute you’d upped and left him alone. Not once did you overtly flirt or bat your eye lashes, it was honestly refreshing. A challenge is what he saw you as and a kind man is what saw you in him. How wrong you were, and how badly he wanted you.

Sam downed the rest of his drink before deciding, he was coming after you.

The night air nipped at your bare skin, you’d idiotically forgone a jacket or shawl. All you wanted was to get home and debrief with your friend who was proud of you for finally going out with someone. You really did enjoy yourself with Sam, but at the same time in your opinion there was something off about him.

He’d make a good friend.

As you entered your apartment you immediately sighed, if there was something you loved more than shopping or going out, it was your home. You quickly removed your heels and placed your bag on the counter before moving to your room. Makeup wipes disposed of, clothes picked out and the weekend was tomorrow.

You decided to wear a simple gown since it was a bit too warm in your place. As you were about to turn down the heat—

The lights went out.

Your hands trailed along the walls until you reached your living room curtains, thankfully you lived in the city. As you looked out you realised it was probably only your building. A creaking from behind caused you to turn sharply, “Hello?” No response. You slowly made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a flashlight from your drawer.

The living room seemed empty, shadows drawn out by the light. Another creak came, but closer this time, “If there’s someone here, I’m so close to calling the cops.”

You screamed as you heard a chuckle from behind you, “How are you going to call without a phone?” You knew that voice, “Sam?” He stepped out from behind you with a wide grin, his eyes were trained on you, like a predator. The way he stared sent shivers down your spine, “What the hell are you doing here? How did you even—,”

“I saw your address on the delivery sheet. You really shouldn’t just pass around personal details sweetheart.” You swallowed before backing up, he continued walking forwards, “I— I didn’t show it you on purpose.” Sam shook his head disapprovingly as he tutted, “It’s no excuse, it was reckless of you. Imagine what would’ve happened if the wrong person saw?”

The tears were welling quickly, this was not the Sam you’d met, the one that you laughed and drunk with. This Sam was intimidating, “You are the wrong person.”

Your back was up against the wall, “Ouch, I wasn’t the wrong person when you needed help right? I wasn’t the wrong person when you wanted to go out. You’re a bitch, you know that? Wearing that little dress, that black lace and leaving me by myself. What was so important that you had to go? Or do you just get kicks out of leaving guys high and dry?”

You shook your head vehemently, tears dropping down your cheeks. Sam’s thumb caressed your cheek whilst the other traced upwards, “No.” You cried out, “No?” Sam mocked as he raised his eyebrows, “No to what sweetie? No to being a slut or something else?” His fingers ghosted over your panties as you jerked your hips upwards, “Sensitive aren’t you, not so sure if you’re a slut anymore Y/n/n.”

You refrained from puking at the nickname, “Something else.” Sam smirked as he took you in, teary, puffy eyes with a tear stained face. You struggled with getting your words out, his presence was overwhelming. You knew you couldn’t actually put up a fight, this man was a giant. And he’d absolutely crush you, no chance.

“No to this?” His fingers slipped your panties to the side and laughed when you began to sob into his shoulder. His finger presses against your clit as a gasp falls from your lips, “Can’t tell me you don’t want it when you’re acting like this Y/n/n.” You cringed at the lewd squelch that came from you.

Sam groaned as your fingertips dug into his biceps, “Sammy please.” He wanted to hit you the second you called him Sammy, but the wide eyes that stared up at him were too cute. “Tell me, tell Sammy what you need.” It was tedious at this point, his fingers had withdrawn from your clit, his touch was light and never where you needed it to be.

“Please just— just do something!” You wanted to cry even more, the apartment was warm and so were you. Your head was foggy, and all you could focus on was Sam’s large hands and thick fingers. “Please, I need you.” He pressed a finger to your clit and you moaned out, “Sammy!”

“You’re so wet Y/n/n, all for me yeah?” You were too far gone as he entered a finger, in and out. “When I say something,” Not even giving a minute to adjust, Sam added another finger as your fingernails scratched down his arms, “You respond.” His other hand came around your neck, his own fingernails imprint upon the smooth skin.

You whined at the loss of contact as Sam pulled out, feeling discomfort as you could feel your own slick coating your thighs, “Jump.” Sam had his hands on your ass as you jumped up, “Good girl.”

He laid you down on the bed before taking his own clothes off. You expected him to continue with fingering you but Sam had different plans. Because if there was one thing he put on top?

His own pleasure.

When you felt him rubbing his cock on your cunt, you immediately began to crawl away, “What do you think you’re doing Y/n/n?” Sam’s hands circled around your wrists as you squealed, his grip was tight and bruising.

“I’ve never…”

Oh this was too good. As if he wasn’t already having a good night. When you finally stopped fighting him, realising the stupidity of it, you looked at him.

His face was twisted in concern and you felt your heart swell, he was going to let you go. But then, you watched in horror as he began to laugh.

“Baby, you think I care? More fun for me.”

Your bedroom was filled with lewd sounds of skin and groans from Sam, your hands were pinned down above your head courtesy of Sam. He thrusted meanly and with so much force that you had scratched his back bloody.

“Shit Y/n/n, I knew you’d have a tight cunt but, fuck.”You hated him, how gorgeous he looked above you, how the sweat made his abs glisten and how your body reacted to his words.

Sam’s one hand was more than enough to hold both of yours, he traced your tits before pinching your nipple causing you to scream out. “Does it hurt? Poor baby.” He continued plunging into you, his dick twitched inside as he noticed the crimson on his dick.

Sam slowed his movements down as he noticed your eyes fluttering, “You keep your eyes on me Y/n. Close your eyes on me again and see what happens.” You quite literally couldn’t help it, Sam had already came inside you twice and your body had given up on fighting long ago.

“Please, just stop it Sam.” He scoffed at the plea, “What, I’m not Sammy anymore?” Sam teased as his hand came down to your clit, pressing down.

“This is all your fault y’know? Leaving me at the bar like I’m pathetic? Only pathetic thing here is you. Can’t even fight back now?” You barely managed to shake your head as Sam’s strong hands squeezed your hips before lifting and a slap landed on your ass.

“Cute little thing aren’t you?”

Sam pulled out before flipping you onto your stomach, pulling you back by your hips he ground against your ass. He prodded at your ass using your slick to stretch you out, “Cute ass too, maybe next time?” You shook your head at the notion, “Baby, Y/n/n you gotta use your words.”

He slid back into your tight cunt and groaned, “Fuck you’re so good. All— all for me.” You found yourself clutching onto the bed as he drove in and out mercilessly. You felt your legs begin to quiver as your cunt throbbed and clenched and you closed your eyes, trying your hardest to hold back. His hand tangled itself in your hair.

Sam’s hand on your ass kneaded and slapped, leaving it throbbing. “Fuck I can feel you, cum. Cum for me.” As much as you didn’t want to give him the pleasure of knowing you felt as if you were going to explode. Sam was there too, you could feel his hips falter and his grip on your hair tighten.

“You’re mine, fuck, You’re mine. You understand?” His voice whispered against your ears and then you felt it. Sam’s cock throbbed inside of you, you could feel it with how deep he was inside of you, and thick, hot, ropes of cum filling you up as he came.

Sam’s hand pressed down onto your stomach, “Feel that Y/n/n?” Sam’s voice was prominent by your ear, “Yes Sammy!” You exclaimed, it felt as if you were filled to the brim as he bottomed out in you.

He grinned before pulling out, you immediately collapsed onto the bed. You closed your eyes hoping it was over now. You jolted as you felt Sam’s fingers stuff his loads of cum back into you, “Keep that in there, or I’ll take you again.” Sam smiled as you nodded.

He surprisingly didn’t leave, instead he laid next to you. Sam had given you a break, two minutes was enough right?

Your peace was taken again as you felt a hand crawl around on your hip, “On second thought,”

“I might just take your ass now.”

#supernatural x fem!reader #yandere supernatural x reader #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x fem!reader #yandere sam winchester x reader #soulless sam winchester x reader #spn x you #spn x reader #spn x female reader

[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

[luciuscaelus]

I wanna share my theory of No Longer You with y’all. (This would be part one. And the post may get a bit long I’m sorry)

First, let me ask you a question (which has been asked a lot): had Teiresias really helped Odysseus?

I want to make a little analysis before I put my conclusion here.

From Odysseus’s POV, every word that Teiresias had just said is against him: Teiresias said, “There is a world where I help you get home, but that’s not a world I know.” Then Odysseus replied with a “What™️?” (Ok, think about it: Circe asked him to there might be a way to evade him, there might be a way to get home.” And she instructed him to visit Teiresias, and now Teiresias told him that he’s not gonna help him? Odysseus was having a hard time accepting the truth.) Then Teiresias related to him all these things he saw, (and remember we’re look at it in Odysseus’s POV), and it’s bombarding Odysseus so hard, that it goes like this: “your romance is past; your men is sacrificed (it’s singular nevertheless); you’ve been (or will be) betrayed time and again; your brother is dead (Polites); you’re on the brink of death; and then you died; a man gets to make it home alive, but it’s not you.”

This is why Odysseus replied, “This can’t be. We’ve suffered and sailed through the toughest of hells and you tell us our efforts for nothing?” (It’s like, “Impossible. You’re telling me that everything we’ve done is meaningless cuz in the end it’s only a man who’ll make it home, and he’s not even me???”)

Teiresias continued, (the following is still in Odysseus’s POV) “Your palace is covered in red—your royalties are all dead; the dead people are men who believe you’re long dead—they’re dear to you, and now they’re all dead; your wife is with someone who’s haunting her, someone who has killed all of those people—he’s gonna take possession of her.”

Odysseus can no longer suppress his anger, “WHOOOOOO?!”

And Teiresias repeated his words again, making Odysseus think that everything is ruined. This is why Odysseus is spiraling, cuz he’s having such a turmoil, and an urge to avoid this kind of future at all costs, with whatever it takes.

But we see things a bit differently.

We see the song of past romance as their long waited reunion; we see the sacrifice of man as a price for him to get home; we see the betrayal as the weakness of his crew that led them to their own destruction; we see him dying but know that he’s not going to die on his way home; we see a man who gets home alive but no longer him cuz he has changed (and a little reference to his disguise). We knows that Teiresias was telling the truth, but from another perspective. We know that it’s him who’ll slaughter the suitors and leave his palace covered in red; we know that the men who had long believed he’s dead are those suitors who woo the presumed “widow” of Odysseus, and we know that the man who is haunting, the man with a trail of bodies, is none other than Odysseus himself.

We know Teiresias was trying to warn Odysseus about his changes, and Odysseus misunderstood him.

Odysseus tried to prevent everything from happening, as the meme goes, “Someone is going to do the killing. I’ll ensure that someone is me.”

So Odysseus continued to change, precisely one song later, and he finally became the one in Teiresias’s vision.

And everything did happen according to Teiresias’s visions.

He tried to avoid the inevitable, but it’s he who makes the inevitable happen, though not precisely as he thought it would be.

It’s nothing someone else who would do the killing. It’s himself all along. Everything is directed towards himself.

Yep, see the pattern here? It’s a topic so well known that no one could’ve missed it in their mythological reading. It’s about fate.

As in one of the most famous literature works, Oedipus Rex.

A work which also involves the appearance of a man, who was none other than Teiresias.

You see, Teiresias was trying to warn Oedipus that he would find the criminal in himself, that he himself was the murderer he’s looking for. Oedipus tried to denied the words, tried to inflict all these curses upon the murderer he sought, but in the end, it was all directed towards himself.

And as audience (readers to be exact), we know that Teiresias was telling the truth for the entire time.

The Teiresias in Epic the musical isn’t the Teiresias in the Odyssey. It’s the Teiresias in Oedipus Rex.

Now, let’s answer the question. Had Teiresias truly helped Odysseus? Yes, from a certain point of view. Teiresias was the catalyst that makes Odysseus reconsider his own actions, and eventually become the “monster”, to fulfill the prophecy of “no longer you”. As in Oedipus Rex, Teiresias’s hints had led Oedipus to a research on his own past, and eventually discovered that he was the murderer, who had fulfilled the prophecy of the family of Laius.

This parallel is, in my opinion, what makes Epic!Teiresias even more fantastic than Odyssey!Teiresias.

#This will be my first post about Teiresias but it won’t be the last #tagamemnon #epic the musical #odysseus #the odyssey #greek mythology #tiresias #epic the underworld saga #jorge rivera herrans #Good job Jorge on everything #oedipus #oedipus rex