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cupids-chamber · 1 year

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❝ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒.. .ᐟ ❞ Shall we look underneath the tree? And see what he got you..

GENDER NEUTRAL READER A/N: Ortho's part is strictly platonic, each part is different. Also, I do not think I wrote the letters well, but I did smthing!!

— MALLEUS

Matching charm bracelets, engraved with the date the two of you first met. One of the greatest moments of his life. Small little dangling charms of Gargoyles attached to each bracelet. And if you squint your eyes, and check behind the heart charm, you'll find the engravings "M.Dracona +Y.L/n"

— LILIA

A scrapbook of all the memories he had shared with you, each page filled with your favorite colors and aesthetic. He put a lot of effort decorating everything just for you..

— SILVER

A small album, filled with all his favorite moments with you. He couldn't think of anything better, it seemed like the best gift.. A album of all the best memories he shared with you..

That's not to say that all the memories and moments he has created with you were bad, he loved all of them! But their are particular memories that fill him up with immeasurable warmth, and he hopes you'll feel the same.

— SEBEK

Sebek couldn't figure out what to give you, something that could highlight and really show you how much he loves you.. that's when Lilia pitched in a idea to him...

Sebek's gift was filled with multiple letters, in a handmade/hand painted box, the letters were filled with sweet messages for anytime he may have upset you.. He's not the best at expressing his love, but he hopes this gift could provide you some comfort..

— IDIA

He personally hands you the gift, it was a photo frame of sorts, a small blue bow displayed at it's front. The device flipped through photo's of the two of you together, and it held gif's and whatnot.. Attached with a audio box of your favorite songs.. "I made it myself.."

— ORTHO

A perfectly wrapped gift was displayed underneath the the tree, inside there's a small figure of you and Ortho holding hands, he didn't know what to give you, to be exact.. so, instead he choose to get you something sentimental.. He heard from a certain somewhere that sentimental gifts were much more thoughtful then others!

— KALIM

Kalim decided not to go too grand for the scenario, giving you a multitude of gifts would erase the sentiment of a gift in general..

Instead he choose to give you a few small handmade trinkets, and small things he saw you eyeing, efficiently showing that he pays attention to where your eyes travel when going out shopping or on dates.

— JAMIL

A small bracelet with your birthstone, he didn't quite know how to leave a lasting impression with his gift, but he knew he was happy for your birth.. so the aspect of a birth stone suited the scenario well..

— RIDDLE

A customized pen, with a small spell attached, so you can change the smoothness and colour, it's pretty friendly with people who want to learn cursive..

It'll have his name engraved, in a place where he assumes you wouldn't have noticed.. The gesture itself was lovely!

— TREY

A beautiful large basket, filled with all sorts of pastries.. Savory and spicy snacks. Everything specialized to your tastes, he paid close detail as to what you preferred eating when creating the basket, it was sure to last you for quite the while.

— CATER

A personalized acrylic map, it displayed the date of your first ever confession, and the place. The painting could have used a bit of work, but the gesture was filled with love..

— DEUCE

The gift box was black, with a blue spade on the top instead of a bow. The ribbon was carefully done, to have the gift look as pleasing as possible.. Inside you could find a music box, with a message! It read:

"To my dearest partner, I can't really express how I feel within words but you brighten up my day Seeing you smile makes me smile.. I love you"

— ACE

Couples bracelets, that looks like handcuffs. It's a stupid joke, when you ask him he'll say, "Then we'll literally be attached together". The joke may have not been what you expected, but the gesture was cute.

— VIL

A personally hand picked and assorted candle set, he finds candles extremely calming, and uses them when he needs a light stress reliever, he's been noticing you felt a bit stressed lately.. maybe it was Crowley? Regardless.. he can't have you dying on him, can he!?

So, he took the time and effort to make you a personally assorted candle set.

— ROOK

A collection of small bow pins, and whatnot.. Things to go on your hair, etc.. Essentially, a box of trinkets, that follow a hunting theme, some were cute bunnies the others were a variety of things!

He hand picked the trinkets, to make it all the more meaningful!

— EPEL

And engraved wood sculpture of an apple, carved with beautiful details.. The wood work was utterly beautiful, the gift would be wrapped in a small white box, with a sparkly purple ribbon..

A small note would be at the front:

"Not to be sweet or anything.. The design is inspired by my heart racing.. Whenever I speak with you"

— AZUL

A mini piano, it's completely playable. Yet it seems like it came out of a doll house, it's custom made to match one similar to what Azul has.. Something you have witnessed Azul playing first hand..

— JADE

A small necklace, in the shape of a letter.. In the back of it a small note and declaration of love was written, signed off as J.Leech.. (Yes these exist)

— FLOYD

A stunning art piece of you.. in puzzle form.. The trick is that there are over 1000 pieces.. And the two of you will need to work together to put it together..

Halfway through he'll get slightly bored, but since he caused this mess.. and he's doing it with you.. He'll enjoy it.

Plus your focused face is cute.

— LEONA

He's not good at sentimental gestures and whatnot, and definitely sucks in this category of giving. So, he decided to give you a necklace, engraved with his name of course..

He is your al-mighty Leona Kingscholar. (Who will never be king)

— RUGGIE

A handmade 30 day, scratch off.. Each day, you'll scratch and find a goovy picture of you two together, or a sweet message he wrote to you..

At the very last day, you'll find a small letter, it'll be a letter where he expresses his more vulnerable side, writing down how he truly feels for you..

— JACK

A personalized gift box, once unfolding it there will be many compartments you can open up and read notes, letters, quotes, etc from your lover!... As for the gift, he had a given you a handmade candle!

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blackopals-world · 1 year

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Could I have part 4 for The Way to A Man's Heart series with Riddle, Trey, Cater, Jack, and Kalim?

~Oh boy, this Au is getting bigger and bigger. God help me. Come eat you filthy animals~

"The Way to a Man's Heart" (part 4)

(Part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

Notes:I spent a day on this. It's not proof read.

Riddle

I was confused on what to do for him to first but inspiration struck like lightning. This is way too long so if you like Riddle come get yall food.~

Yuu loved tea parties. She had thrown her fair share in her homeland with different themes and styles. With her talent for cooking and knowledge of many cultures she was booked to host events as a host and caterer just like her mom and dad. It was her pride and joy.

But cooking for her friends seemed to be enough. Until it wasn't.

For the past few days she had begun putting ideas in Riddle's head about hosting her own party.

She needed participants for this specific tea party but the problem was it required people who stuck to the rules. No other dorm could be as complaint as Heartslabyul expect maybe Draconia or Pomefiore but they might be too perfect if that makes sense. In reality Yuu just wanted to see Ace and Deuce suffer.

Riddle of course was very enthusiastic about party and added it to the schedule and making attendance mandatory.

Yuu couldn't help smirking knowing just how strict she was going to be.

The following Saturday Yuu rolled out tatami mats on the Ramshackle lawn. She had planted a few trees with help from Malleus and Leona for the event. Sakura trees that had a spell to keep them in bloom. Everything must be set up perfectly.

The Heartslabyul boys showed up at exactly 11:30 as instructed. Each had to wear traditional hakama.

Riddle had trouble following instructions for once. Yuu had specified that their attire be undecorated or plain. It could be colored but not bright or flashy so no red. When he had asked Yuu about it she made quite the face, one he imagined he had made many times at rule breakers.

"Red, is unacceptable. What? Are you getting married or showing off? It's not permitted to wear that unless your the host or a royal. Even then it's unseemly. This is a formal party Riddle not a informal tea." Yuu sounded unlike her usual soft and endearing self. Every word was deliberate and pointed. She took this seriously.

Riddle felt a bit chastised himself. He found that he wanted to follow her directions to the letter because of just how fervent she was. They had something in common now that she was making the rules and he had to forget his own to follow her's.

The group arrived in muted colors with minimal patterns but very well made. Of course they looked rather out of place in Ace, Cater and Riddle's case due to the ban on red. Cater chose yellow, Ace got orange and Riddle had pink. Trey had olive and Deuce had on navy blue.

Grim answered the door with a red and white rope tied around his neck and a gold bell that rang as he walked. He wasn't happy about the bell but he didn't make the rules.

Speaking of rules Grim was ordered to invite everyone inside. Shoes had to be removed and any unneeded items put away. Grim pointed to the scroll on the wall for everyone to read.

Riddle remembered that the scroll depicts the theme of the party.

He couldn't read the symbol on it. Why did she writing in another language?

Everyone took a seat as Grim rolled out a little cart with cups of tea on it. It was rather adorable as the cat served tea to the best of his ability. Yuu must had taught him. Grim was rather proud of himself as he explained that he chose this tea and made it himself.

Cater took plenty of pictures of the cat acting like a little butler. Grim was made into a meme by the magicam community instantly.

Riddle was very impressed as Grim told the group that the first tea was Sakurayu. A tea made from cherry blossoms pickled in plum vinegar though he chose to fargo salt in the process do to the aftertaste except in Carter's case.

It was a very different to the tea Riddle usually drank but it was very good. The blossoms unfurled in the hot water making a beautiful display. Everyone seemed to enjoy it but Ace and Deuce didn't have a taste for tea.

The group had to wait for Yuu's arrival as she entered wearing a pink kimono with a white obi and haired tied neatly an updo with cherry blossom tasseled hair sticks placed into her hair.

She greeted everything in a formal bow and made sure everyone in turn bowed as well. When Ace messed up and didn't bow properly at the waist a paper fan wacked him on the shoulder.

"Ace, try again." Yuu said with a smile but her eyes where clearly issuing a threat.

Yeah, Yuu and Riddle are alot alike.

Riddle in turn didn't say a word as. She watched her in astonishment.

Yuu instructed everyone to go outside to use the tsukubai to ritually wash their hands and mouths out before entering the tea garden.

Trey believed that every tea should begin like this. Everyone else but Riddle found it tedious.

Soon enough Grim escorted everyone outside to the garden to wait for the ceremony to begin.

Each of them had to sit in order of prestige. Riddle was seated first closest to the head followed by Trey, Cater, Deuce, and Ace. Ace complain about going last, but Deuce is still older by two months.

Ace began complaining about having to sit uncomfortably in seiza-style. Everyone was uncomfortable but Ace at least said it.

Riddle wouldn't dare admit his discomfort especially so early in the event. This was traditional and Yuu expectations were high. If he failed to meet her standards how could he expect her to meet his. If he can't do something so simple, she'd never trust his judgment again.

The event officially began with the audible closing of the door to the garden and Yuu entering and sitting down last.

"You guys are doing well. Seiza takes alot of practice. Your blood flow should improve overtime to make it easier." Yuu smiled as she turned down the outdoor burner for the water boiler. She neglected to mention how seiza isn't practice the same way since the Japanese government recognized it as a form of punishment considering the pain it caused. But her part her rules. "I hope you guys remember the ceremony takes about 4 hours to complete."

The audible groans that came from the group where hilarious. Yuu believed that the Riddle could use the humbling seeing the stained expression on his face.

"I don't know if I can do it." Deuce said, his face downcast and his teal puppy dog eyes on full display "I'm sorry, Yuu."

Her heart wasn't made of stone and Deuce her poor dumb-dumb was her her weakness.

"If that's the case we have seiza stools for you. It'll look like your sitting in position while taking the weight and stress of your legs." Yuu said giving in.

The boys took the offer, even Riddle knowing he wasn't expected to sit unassisted for 4 hours. He face was red with embarrassment when her noticed Yuu didn't need the aid of a stool.

As it was custom Riddle was promoted to ask questions about the ceremony for the group. The questions were written by Yuu before hand to help Riddle.

"What was the meaning of the scroll?" He asked.

"The theme is cherry blossom viewing. I thought it was best to be held outside." She answered in a rehearsed manor.

"What have you prepared?" He asked again.

"We shall begin with a meal with a watered down plum sake reserved for festivals. It's not strong enough to get drunk off of unless you have an entire bottle. Then we will take a break for a walk or play games. After that the tea ceremony begins. After we can go back to more casual fun." She said casual in an a different manor. She had plans.

After that Yuu presented the meal she had made. The meal served stared with a simple miso soup, rice, and salmon sashimi.

Ace and Deuce ate greedily with Grim and only stopped when Yuu gave them the evil eye. They reluctantly slowed down so they didn't suffocate on their food.

Cater was posting pictures of the food and laughed when the only pictures Vil would like had Yuu in them. Jealous much?

Trey feigned any acknowledgement of his surroundings as he enjoyed the scenery food. Truly an unbothered king.

Riddle fumbled with his chopsticks trying to pick up the fish before a helpful hand folded over his.

"Hold it like this." Yuu said her head over his shoulder and her cheek brushing against his. She moved his fingers into the right position and showed him how to pick up the fish. Before finishing her demonstration she pinched the fish between the wooden sticks and moved them to Riddle's mouth, feeding the headwarden the soy sauce soaked food.

Riddle turned ten shade of red as she pulled away.

Carter watch slack jawed as he dropped his chopsticks.

"Yuu? Can you help? I don't know how to use these." Cater whined calling for her.

Jealous much?

The next dishes where served with a nishime soup with bamboo shoot, lotus shoot and shiitake mushrooms. It was served with pork filled gyoza.

The first year boys loved the dumplings but didn't want to touch the veggie soup until Trey snapped out of revelry and eyed them both. Cater was also picky but knew he should just eat it.

Riddle actually liked the soup, it had a good soy sauce and sake based stock.

After everyone was already getting full, Yuu served dessert. Wagashi. It was a sweet made from mochi, sweet bean paste, and fruits.

Riddle found his favorite food so far and loved the taste of the floral peach.

Trey was in a similar boat and asked for her recipe. Yuu was happy to share as the made plans to make and serve more of these.

Yuu called for a break as everyone had to rest after such a meal. Full and satisfied they walked about viewing the flowers. Riddle took note of how well he and Yuu matched while standing under the cherry tree. A literal cherry tree not the cherry blossom trees.

Yuu showed the boys a few of the old games played during these event. Haiku writing, scripture reciting, origami, music, and dancing.

They didn't know that Yuu could do more then cook, she was actually good at playing the harp of all things and singing.

Trey was really good at tea ceremonies apparently. He truly understood its purpose. Distressing from everyday live and enjoying peace and tranquility. He had grown past simple earthly desires and was in touch with his innermost self and was finding the answer to who he was as a person.

"Okay, someone go get Trey. He's been staring up into the trees for way too long." Yuu said to Carter while watching Trey from a distance.

Trey's journey of enlightening had to end before he accidentally achieved nirvana after eating a bean bun. Honestly, what did Yuu put in that thing?

Yuu refocused on her flower arrangement preparing the actual ceremony. When she finish she rang a bell to signal the boys to come back and sit after washing up again.

Yuu began serving the tea as she poured the Macha power and water and whisked it into thick tea. This is where the rules must be followed to the letter.

Yuu movement must be precise as she prepared and poured the tea. Then she poured the tea into a bowl and bowed to Riddle who in turn bowed to her. He then raised the bowl in respect to her as a host.

He took a sip of the herble mix and complimented her tea as he wiped the rim before passing the bowl to Trey who did the same. On and on they all had to to it. Ace once again complained avout everyone elses lips touching the bowl causing a paper fan to go flying for his forehead this time. Yuu wasn't letting him get way with that one.

The formal part of the tea was just about over as Yuu removes the formal equipment and makes several cups of thin green tea to enjoy with light sakura cakes. She let the boys relax and recalin on the pillow cushions now.

"I was fun right?" She asked as they talked and drank.

"It was scary." Ace said rubbing his red forehead.

"I liked it." Deuce said wolfing down a cake. "The food is really good"

"I got so many pictures. The other dorms are practically green with envy." Cater smiled wickedly as he scrolled through the comment section. Vil was still being petty, and now Neige was paying attention.◇Drama!◇

Trey was still heading for inner peace so he was having a good time. Actually Yuu checked the sake and his might of been stronger then intended. He might actually be a super lightweight and is currently sloshed.

Riddle was sleepy after a big meal and all the activities. He leaned his head on Yuu's shoulder and dozed off. Her kimono was really soft and she smelled like fruit and flowers.

It wasn't exactly what Yuu imagined when she threw this party. She had intended to give Riddle a taste of his own medicine but seeing everyone even somewhat enjoyed the event was fun. It wasn't for everyone, at least not Ace who was the only one to complain. With a few changes here and there the others could really like this. Unfortunately, Yuu wasn't going to just change everything for westerners. Tradition was tradition and she already compromised enough.

She waved them off in the evening as she praised Grim for doing so well today. Trey and Riddle had to be carried back.

Trey

Trey recovered pretty well after the tea party. He thankfully didn't get sent to the heavens after achieving the 6th sense and becoming God.

They still had plans to cook desserts together. Yuu came over to the dorm with a bag full off something special.

She gleefully placed it on the counter as Trey eyed her with suspiciously.

"Guess what I got?" She said in a sing song voice.

"Something you want us to cook I'm guessing." Trey answered attempting to peer in the bag.

"Well yes, but that's not what I asked." Yuu pouted as she scooped up the bag to keep it away from Trey.

Trey wasn't going to play her game so he when back to making tarts as Yuu realized she wasn't getting anything out of him.

Trrreeeeyyyyy!" She whined as she pulled on Trey's apron.

Trey ignored her as he stirred the raspberry jam filling. When Yuu continued to whine he reached over to pat her head like a toddler who was demanding attention. Yuu reluctantly gave in and showed Trey the ingredient.

It was Hakuhou peaches. They were a top of the line peach known for its sweet, floral taste and soft texture. It made great treats.

Trey cut up slices to try so he could best see how to cook it.

Yuu showed him her recipe for peach tarts and the intended crowning dish for the day, peach flan.

Flan was difficult to get right, the consistency was hard to get right, the glaze must be glassy and just thick enough. The bigger the mold the harder to get it out with it falling apart.

Of course Yuu used a big mold and got it out without trouble.

"Oh my God, fuck you. Of course you did it perfectly the first try." Trey said exasperated with no real heat. Yuu laughed as he pouted now.

Yuu cut a slice of the flan and offered it to Trey to eat. Trey feigned reluctance and took a bite.

"It's really good." He sighed.

Yuu gently encouraged him as he took a napkin and wiped the caramel from the side of Trey's face.

"We can try something different."

Cater

Cater was a spice hound and was foolish enough to challenge Yuu. His idea was to do a live video of him trying Yuu's spiciest dish from her homeworld in a bid to make a new internet challenge.

Yuu almost immediately told Carter no. He wasn't ready for that. Cater wasn't listening though and insisted. He eventually wore her down and live on the air she placed a bowl of black dried ghost pepper noodles.

She advised him to be careful so he doesn't burn a hole in his stomach. She went easy on him by removing the seeds from the pepper for his own good.

"Thanks to our lovely chef Yuu, we have the best possible food for our challenge made hot and fresh. " Cater said pulling Yuu into frame why the hip. Because the camera perspective was at Cater level while sitting the audience couldn't see above Yuu's bust.

The viewers didn't mind as the made comments about wanting her "hot and fresh."

"Well that's enough fan service. Let's eat!" He said grabbing his chopsticks.

It went downhill fast as tears where shed and his nose was running. This didn't stop him because he wouldn't stop eating because it was, too good.

At some point Yuu took the bowl away and gave Cater a glass a milk. He was in too much pain to be cohesive now as he rested his face in Yuu's apron.

"Sorry, everyone but we need to cut here. We exercise personal safety in what we eat and seeing as Cater is in no condition to continue this is the end." Yuu said comforting her stupid friend by stroking his head but she was still as mischievous as always.

"This is what happens when you dont listen. Say goodbye Cater." Yuu cooed.

"Goodbye Cater." He moaned in pain, his face red fr the heat.

"Good Boy." She said cutting the feed.

When Cater finally recovered he got the internet fame he wanted. The trending tags were #ChefMommy, #Spicynoodechallange, #ChefYuu, #hotandfresh, #HeNeedsSomeMilk, and #bisexualmoment (yall better not use these. I will not be held responsible for making these tags.)

There were clips everywhere of the video. Memes of his face crying in Yuu's clothes that read "Me when my biwife says no more chicken nuggies"

Fans demanded Yuu to come back or for her to make her own channel.

Jack

Jack was probably the most normal person to feed. When he wanted something, he asked. No trick or games.

That is until Yuu had another fight with Leona and Leona banned Yuu from the dorm and giving food to Savanaclaw members.

Ruggie didn't listen and was staying at Ramshackle until it blows over because he wasn't giving up Yuu's food for anything.

Jack was caught between a rock and a hard place. He didn't like it but he complied.

It didn't help watching Ruggie all his fellow first years eating her lunches. She even made pear parfait for him and he couldn't have any.

Yuu thought it was painful to watch as he gave her puppy dog eyes.

Jack came up a convoluted work around. He would just sneak over to Ramshackle in his wolf form and eat there. As long as someone other then Yuu gave it to him then it wasn't "Yuu's" food.

He didn't feel guilty wolfing down a waygu steak and potatoes, lick his chops in satisfaction.

He still urged Yuu and Leona to call of their feud to no avail. He had to give up and chose a side. To bad Leona didn't nearly enough for Jack to side with him. Yuu was his classmate, gave him good food, cared about him alot, and smelled better.

It helped that Yuu loved feeding him more in his wolf form.

Epel

Epel walked back to Pomefiore with his arms full of takeout containers. Yuu made a Sunday dinner full of souther comfort foods.

Fired chicken, greens, Mac n' cheese, mashed potatoes with gravy, and a cinnamon apple pie.

Epel felt like he could sleep for days.

He had told Yuu that he missed home and when he talked about his grandmother's food their was a glint in her eye. She had gone behind his back to send a letter to his grandma and they began sharing recipes.

Yuu cooked everything to the letter.

When Epel took his first bite he almost cried. I was just like gram's but it reminded him of Yuu as well. He could taste a seasoning only she used.

He made sure to take back as much a possible and keeping his envious dorm mates from taking it. He knew Rook and Vil were snagging his food even if they were playing innocent. They could get their own. Yuu made this for him.

Around the holidays Yuu was at his house with Professor Crewel and Headmaster Crowley. She was cooking with Epel's grandmother who made not so subtle hints about her joining the family in the future.

Kalim

Yuu actually had no interest in cooking for Kalim. He made it clear he didn't eat anything that Jamil didn't make. Why step on someone else's toes.

She understood that everyone has preferences and fears are valid. She trusted Jamil to know what Kalim likes. She just cooked food for Jamil instead.

One evening while Jamil was cooking Yuu was in the kitchen feeding him bites of the lunch she made him that he forgot to eat since he was busy. Most people stared clear watching the affectionate scene but Kalim was too interested to say put.

He wanted in on this much to Jamil's annoyance.

"I want some." Kalim popped up, mouth open to a bid to be fed like a baby bird like Jamil.

"No, I couldn't eat earlier because I was so busy. It's mine." Jamil growled as he cooked Kalim's dinner. "Besides you'll spoil your appetite."

"He's right, Jamil is working hard to cook for you. You don't want to ruin that." Yuu said half heartedly. It's not like she didn't want to give him any, it's just that she respected Jamil.

"Not even a little bite?" Kalim said pitifully pulling on Yuu's sleeve.

"I'm sorry." Yuu sighed.

Still when Jamil's back was turned she spooned a serving of chicken Tajine into Kalim's mouth. Kalim was elated and gestured for more. He really liked it.

Yuu felt guilty but she couldn't help herself. She gave him more whenever Jamil wasn't looking, all the while feeding Jamil.

Was this cheating or betrayal? Probably not. If Jamil knew he didn't say anything.

Kalim got used to being fed after this and when Yuu was around he only wanted her to give him food. This made parties difficult as everyone watched Kalim being served by hand.

Jamil only sighed at Kalims spoiled behavior but he didn't have to cook every single day now so the break was a relief. This is why he told her not to give him food. Kalim was like a stray cat once you feed him once you can't get rid of him.

Crowley

Crowley knew he was being left out. Everyone in the teacher's lounge eagerly ate Yuu's cooking. The staff actually forced him to bankroll the operation to increase student moral which was working very well.

But where's his lunchbox? What about Crowley and his hunger? Was his child so cruel to leave him starving?

Yes. Yes, she was. If he was a better guardian then maybe he'd get food.

This actually did show Crowley just how bad his relationship with Yuu was. He was the only one left without anything.

He tried to get close, but she was always too busy for him. He hung around Ramshackle with the excuse of fixing up some stuff. When he did she asked him to focuse on the portal back to her home.

He eventually gave in and made some progress and made a small portal he could manage. I would be a long time before he could do any more then that. She could use it to send letters and talk to her family as well as grab small items from home. I was more then enough for Yuu who cried hugging him.

Crowley wasn't lying to her, he was looking for a way back for her but he had doubted his ability to do it it takes a lot of magic and required the aid of lots of people. He outdid himself by creating a stable portal that could stay open constantly. Yuu could even use it to get ingredients from her realm.

He had to promise her family to take care of her no matter what and made his guardianship offical with their consent.

He forgot about the lunchbox thing eventually due to caring more about her than the food. When he visited Ramshackle one evening he saw her making something and decided to join her. He wasn't good at cooking but he enjoyed that atmosphere. He messed up a few times but Yuu laughed and showed him how to fold the dough.

They placed the toppings on their pizza and put them in the oven. His came out a bit sad but at least Yuu's tuned out fine. They cute it up and sat down for a dinner of pizza, salad and pasta.

He could be a better parent but he was making progress.

1K notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 8 months

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Riddle, Vil: A Family Affair

Riddle’s vignettes are so… interesting?? We can see how he’s trying to take small steps to have more agency. I like to think that, very slowly, he’s coming into his own as a young man, an entity separate from his mother.

It’s nice that Riddle’s Groovy shows him in a fun pose. You’d think that someone as strict as him wouldn’t want to fly abnormally, but you can tell it's a manner that's unique to him. Riddle may be upside down like Floyd is in his own Broomquet Groovy, but you can tell that there is a marked difference between the two. Riddle’s holding bis broom in a much more secure way, which is reflective of his personality, whereas Floyd is much more precarious in his pose. It reflects their personalities well!

And now we wait for Jamil’s Birthday Platinum Jacket SSR… 👀

A Boy in Bloom, and his Flowering Future.

“What do you want to do in the coming year?”

Riddle cleared his throat and stood straight as he provided his reply. He was the model student, interviewee... and, of course, birthday boy. "I would like to expand my culinary knowledge."

Vil arched a perfectly sculpted brow. "Judging by your prompt response, I take it that you studied the interview questions and prepared suitable answers for them in advance. How like you--but what a surprise that you have a goal that isn't related to school. You're infamous for your tenacity in that regard."

"I-I am capable outside of the realm of academics too!" Riddle hastily said with a frown. “… Though I admit I may be lacking in some departments. That is precisely why I would like to dedicate time and energy to strengthening my areas of weakness.”

"Oh, please. You can't possibly be as nightmarish at cooking as..." Vil paused, shuddering, "Lilia is."

The birthday boy paled at the mention of his senior. Lilia, who left kitchens looking like a natural disaster had torn through an active warzone. Lilia, who tossed in everything under the sink and then some. Lilia, who was known across campus for all manner of food borne illnesses and poisonings.

"Surely not!!" Riddle insisted. "I know how to read and follow a recipe! The issue lies in flexibility. Trey is able to make an entire meal just from leftovers, but I wouldn't be able to do the same."

"My, if you're concerned about food waste, couldn't you simply ask Trey to teach you? I'm certain he wouldn't refuse you. That man is too nice for his own good."

"Perhaps that's true. But even so... this is a skill I'd like to learn for myself. I don't want to become overly reliant on others' strength. What I must cultivate first and foremost is my own. To that end, I plan on enrolling in more Master Chef courses during my time at NRC. There are many styles of cooking I've yet to master. For example, Trey prepares meals that are very different from that of my mother."

"How so?"

"Well..." Riddle hesitated. The way he gnawed at his lower lip reminded Vil of an anxious rabbit--a far cry from the self-assured dorm leader he knew Riddle as.

"Mother cooks with nutrition as her priority. She is very health conscious and goes out of her way to ensure that I am eating what I need. When I am studying at home, she brews tea to drink. It's rare that my entire family comes together for a meal, given that we're all busy.

"Meanwhile, Trey's food is... I can't quite put a finger on it, but it's flavorful and fun, yet balanced. The experiences are unique from my time at home. Sometimes it's something warm, hearty, and comforting like hamburger steak. Sometimes it's something hopelessly indulgent and loaded with sugar, like tarts decorated with jewel-like fruits."

"Your eyes are shining." Vil smirked. "You enjoy his cooking that much?"

"I don't understand it myself," Riddle replied, scrunching his brows. "When Trey cooks, people are lured by the smell and gather around the table, wanting to join for the meal. It happened the other day when I was to eat with him and Cater. Ace and Deuce barged in on us, and... well, I suppose it wasn't all bad. We had a delightful conversation over lunch. There's something magical about that."

"There is a different feeling to eating with others than alone," Vil agreed with a slight nod. "My father and I can hardly align our schedules, so it's rare that we can sit down and eat together. Then again, maybe it's that rarity that makes us appreciate those moments all the more."

"That's right. It's a special spell that I realized I can't reproduce. Just memorizing the recipes and recreating them... that alone isn't enough."

"Fufufu, so you want to master that kind of 'magic'. That's surprisingly cute of you."

"N-No, you're mistaken! While it's true that cooking would come in handy for entertaining guests, it'd primarily be for self-sufficiency. After all, it's not as though I can always ask Trey or my mother to cook for me." Riddle shifted from one foot to another. "Someday, I'll have to move out of my dorm as well as my house, and live independently as a fine adult."

"Yes, cooking is an essential skill for that distant future. Have you already started on making those arrangements?"

"Er, not yet. I've been looking into it, but to actually take those first physical steps is... that is, I don't know how my mother would react."

"She sounds very stern from what you've told me of her. However, every mother must let her child go eventually."

"Maybe so, but I have never known my mother to back down from her beliefs. She's... not a woman you want to challenge." Riddle's voice strained at the final word. It was the lightest way he could put it, too afraid to acknowledge the whole truth. "I've tried to get her to hear me out, but..."

"If you can't draw that line in the sand now, then when? It will only make things more difficult for you when you start live alone."

"I'm fully aware of that." He couldn't bring himself to say more.

Vil sighed, bringing a hand to his temple. "... Listen, Riddle. Think of life as a stage, and you as the actor upon it. Worried about how the audience will react to your performance, working tirelessly to hone your craft.

“When the lights dim and the cameras turn off, the staff and the audience leave the theatre. You’ll be left only with your own thoughts. The onlookers may have one impression of you—but when the curtains fall, so long as you are proud of who you are away from the public eye, that, I think, is a sign of true maturity.

“If it’s courage and confidence that you seek, then you must work toward it. Never let your eyes stray from it. Even should the world deprive you of a happy ending, you must claw for it, believing that, someday, it will be yours.”

“Vil-senpai… Is this your way of encouraging me to see my goals through to the very end?”

His upperclassman scoffed. Thin, soft—like a rose petal, almost imperceptible as it passed upon a breeze.

“Think of it what your will. I merely speak from my own experience,” Vil replied. “We are both prideful NRC students at our very cores. Standing strong on our own two feet is something we all desire. That we can one day recognize that dream… It goes for us all.”

“Recognizing a dream, hm?”

How curious. I wondered not too long ago if it was really possible. Now, here I am, taking those first, small baby steps. A world where I can think for myself, live by my own rules… It sounds like a wonderland within my reach.

Soon, but not yet.

“… One day,” Riddle whispered to himself. “One day, I’ll be the person I want to be.”

Not the person I’m told to be.

A palm came against his back—a pat from Vil. “Really, I thought the dorm leader of Heartslabyul would know better than to mumble. You’re usually so good at barking at your card soldiers. Do remember to speak up—now, and forevermore.”

“I don’t recall asking for your advice.” Riddle brushed off his touch, stepping forward with his broom at the ready. Still, he chuckled. “… But yes, I will work on gathering my courage so that I may be comfortable leaving the nest. Thank you for your concern, senpai.”

“Ara, what cheek.” Vil tossed his golden locks. “If I’m to share the stage with you, then of course your skills must be on par with mine. Don’t you dare disappoint me, understood?”

“Hmph, when have I ever been the type to fall short of meeting expectations? Observe.”

Riddle confidently mounted his broom, assuming the position he had practiced many times over. There was a diagram of this exact pose in the mountain of textbooks he had in his dorm room. Straddling the handle between the legs, arms straight and steady, one hand gripped over the other, elbows locked.

He could have been the textbook diagram himself.

When Riddle looked up, he saw the vast sky, sunlight spilling across the sea that surrounded the island. Sunset on its way to soon paint the day with darkness.

The sky… It connects many different places and people. The future is stretching out before me, chalk full of possibilities.

Then… I can try, can I? To soar, to break free. Just this once…!!

Riddle’s hold on his broom tightened.

He called forth his magic, letting it pool around him in a shower of scarlet sparkles. The power collected, coalescing as a tingling warmth dancing across his skin, until he at last unleashed it in one burst. Like a cap popped off on a bottle.

Riddle buckled off, propelling into the air in a corkscrew motion. Rose petals fell free from his bouquet, perfuming the summer sky with them.

“Whew…!”

He stopped spinning, flying forward upside down. The world shifted, shapes and colors rearranging into a new perspective. His head and vision spun, seemingly colliding all of his senses against one another.

A moment or two later, and they had rattled neatly into place.

Riddle looked again, taking it all in. Rich gold dappling the grand spires of Night Raven College, the honeyed aroma of roses, the wind from on high tickling his lashes. The delicious freedom of flying freely.

“… Hah.”

Who knew it could taste so sweet?

#twst #twisted wonderland #Riddle Rosehearts #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #Vil Schoenheit #twisted wonderland scenarios #disney twisted wonderland #spoilers #Riddle birthday takeover #something no one asked for

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cameronspecial · 1 month

Text

A New Kind Of Normal (Prologue)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: SMUT.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: A night at work leads Y/N to the bed of the Prince of Kooks and it results in a small miracle.

Masterlist

Working at a catering company is not exactly Y/N’s life dream, but it helps her pay for tuition so she deals with it. The black cocktail dress she is forced to wear for this event is driving her insane. It is itchy and so short that she worries every few minutes her underwear will show. She is struggling with the heels, fearing she’ll trip with no way of catching her fall. The tray in her hand holds lemon buttercups that make her mouth salivate like a dog. She navigates around the wealthy partygoers and offers anyone who looks interested a sweet treat. Most people barely look in her direction, let alone thank her; the wealthy really need to learn some manners. At least she only has three more hours of this.

For once, Rafe didn’t get high as soon as he got off of work. He knew he had to accompany his dad to this networking event and he wasn’t about to make the same mistake of going to a work event high again. Not after last time. His regret for being sober is starting to grow, but the smell of vanilla makes him glad he can think clearly. Her bright smile is the second thing he notices after her vanilla perfume. It amazes him how she can still be so happy, knowing she’s been working since the start of the night. He wants to go get a lemon buttercup just to have an excuse to talk to her; however, the button on his suit jacket has another idea. It falls off of its string and starts rolling away from him. They watch as the button gets farther away and both go after it. Their eyes are focused on the button, which causes them to run into each other.

Buttercups go flying everywhere and Y/N falls flat on her bum. Rafe tries to stop his fall, but all he really does is change the direction he falls in and he tumbles on top of her. His chest presses against hers. She feels his breath fight against hers and she tries her hardest to keep the attraction out of her eyes. Her mind snaps back to reality. She quickly pushes him off of her and she stands back up.

Her hands search for the tray so she can go back to the kitchen to replace the soiled treats. He wants to go after her, but his dad stops him in his tracks under the pretense of talking to a client. The rest of the night is spent looking for the vanilla-scented waitress. He finally sets eyes on the one person he wants to see near the end of the night. Her body sits in a nook hidden away from everyone. She has her knees folded close to her chest and he can see she is reading something placed on her lap. The cold night air breezes through her hair, getting into her face but it doesn’t seem to bother her. The dress she is wearing absolutely drives him crazy. It hugs her curves perfectly and with the way she is sitting, he catches a glimpse at her underwear, which he has to pull himself to look away from her. “I’m glad I found you again, Buttercup. We didn’t get the chance to talk last time.”

She looks up from whatever she is reading, giving him a small smile that doesn’t compare to the one before. He vows to make her give him that smile again. She can’t help but admit that she thinks he is funny and handsome. She thought that everyone at the event would be a high society person, who would look down at her. But whoever this guy is, he talks to her like she is human. Joking around with her and flashing her a charming smirk. His blazer is thrown across his forearm and she finds it attractive how the sleeves of his button-up are folded up his arms. It takes everything inside of her not to smile like an idiot when he speaks to her. “And it’s Button. Did you manage to get your button back?” she asks. He walks over, sitting on the wall across from her, “Yes, thanks for trying to help. Sorry, I knocked you off of your feet. What are you reading?” “It’s okay. It was my fault too for not looking. And I’m reading a script. I have an audition tomorrow for a student film,” she explains, flashing him the script she is reading. He gently snatches it out of her hand, “So you’re an actress, interesting. I could see that. Anything I would have seen you in?”

“No, just a bunch of student films for university. That’s it. But one day, I’m going to move out to New York or maybe LA and then get my big break. For now, I’m okay with just going to university and acting in student films.”

“Well I’ve never seen you act, but I know you’ll make it big. I mean with a smile better than Julia Roberts’, how could you not?”

“Aww, thanks! Aren’t you going back to the party? Or are you hiding out too? You seemed to be a hit with the other business dudes.”

He looks at her with a grin, playfully knocking her foot with his, “You’ve been watching me. I’m hiding out from my father. He says I’m useless and can’t be trusted, yet he seems to want to parade me around at events like these. I just don’t understand him.” His hands play at buttoning his watch on and off. She looks at him with sad eyes, feeling bad about his parental pressures. He hates that he is the one to make her sad and all he wants to do is to give her the world to cheer her up. “I’m sorry your dad is such a jerk. The only useless thing I see here is your suit button,” she jokes to lighten up the mood. This is when she flashes him her award-winning smile and he wants to melt, “Thanks. I’m used to it by now.” Silence falls over them before Rafe feels the need to tell her more about his dad. She has eyes that tell him she can be trusted and if she is as sweet as her perfume, she must be hella sweet. “He doesn’t understand that I’m protecting him and the company. That’s me. Not Sarah. Me, Rafe. I’m the one.” His tears start to fall as his fingers press against his thumb to point toward him to punctuate his point.

She isn’t sure what to say to him; she never had any problems with her dad. She moves to sit beside him, bringing his head onto her shoulder. He revels in her touching and lets himself feel comfort in her neck. After a few seconds, he looks up at her. Their eyes lock for a second. His lips near hers and she takes the chance by smacking their lips together. Their mouths move in tandem, his tongue moving against her bottom lip to ask for entrance. She lets him in and they fight for dominance. Eventually, she gives him full control. His hands move to the neckline of her dress, moving it out of the way so he can kiss her collarbone.

Before things get too heated in public, she moves his head away from her skin. She places her forehead against his and quietly pants, “I really do want to continue this, but maybe not in a place we’d get arrested.” He loves the way she says it taking her hand into his to drag her to his truck.

——

Rafe spins her around so her back slams against his door. His teeth gently tug her bottom lips and let it go to give her a kiss. His hand finds the back of her thigh, so he can hike it up to his waist. He separates for a second and brings his mouth to her ear, “My name is Rafe by the way. You’ll need to know it for when you are screaming my name later on.” She feels shivers run down her spine. His lips begin to descend the column of her neck and drops down to his knees. His head ducks under the skirt of her dress, using his teeth to pull her underwear down her legs. Once he has clear access to her pussy, he dives in to make her feel good. He starts his assault with her clitoris, swirling his tongue around the bud. Her head swings back in pleasure and her leg wraps around his shoulder. “God, I love the sounds you are making. You are doing so good, Buttercup. Do you want more?” he praises, looking up at her.

“Yes, please. More,” she cries out and brings his mouth back onto her. He gives a low chuckle at her words, moving his fingers to his mouth to get them prepared for her. His fingers move from his mouth to her vagina. It penetrates her hole and she is begging for him to give her more. Her hips start to buck to meet his movement. He adds another finger and the sound she lets out is music to his ears. Her walls start to tighten around his fingers. She lets out a loud gasp as she climaxes. He pulls his fingers out of her and cleans them off in his mouth.

Standing at full height, he towers over her now. She gives him a wicked smile and stands on his tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “As much as I love the nickname Buttercup, I want you to be yelling Y/N for what I’m about to do.” It's her turn to kneel on her knees and pull down his clothes. He can cum in his pants just at the sight of her like this. She begins by pumping his cock in her hand, bringing the tip close to her lips. She gives it a little kitten lick and then continues to jerk him off. “Y/N, Y/N. Please, take me in your mouth. I need to feel you,” he moans out, lacing his fingers through her hair to push her head closer to where he needs her. She happily envelopes him in her mouth, using a hand to bring pleasure to what isn’t in her mouth. She continues to bob her head and swirls her tongue around his dick.

She feels him twitch in her mouth, but he brings her up to full height before she can help him climax. “I want to come in you,” he begs, heading over to his bedside table to get a condom. She strips as he goes to get it, “Will you hurry up and get that thing on you? I need to feel you inside of me.” He quickly rips the condom wrapper with his teeth and rolls it onto himself after giving it a few pumps. The sight of her naked makes him want to drool; he knows she probably feels self-conscious being the only naked person in the room, so he rids himself of his clothes.

Her perky breasts are calling his name; therefore, he brings his head to suck on one of her nipples. The swirling of his tongue around her bud and her head jerks forward to rest on his head. “Enough foreplay, Rafe. Get your dick back in me before I take matters into my own hands,” she orders, moving his head from her boobs by his hair. He groans at her words, “Y/N if you do that, I’m going to have to punish you.” But he obeys her demands anyway. His fingers find their way back to her core to make sure she is wet enough for him. Finally, he brings the tip of his cock and pushes into her at a rough pace. He brings her leg back up to his waist and presses his chest against hers so she has better support with her back pressed against the door. With each thrust, her back rubs against the wall in a slight discomfort, but the pleasure he is giving her makes it worth it. “You are doing so good. Look how well you are taking me,” he breathly praises him.

“What can I say? You’re pretty good at stretching me out,” she teases, wrapping her arms around his neck. He gives her a dark look, “I must not be doing a good enough job if it’s only pretty good. I have to kick it up a notch then.” As promised, his pace quickens and gets rougher as her moans increase in volume. He feels like he is in heaven and he knows he is going to come soon. His hand goes down between them, rubbing her clit to help her get close with him. His thrusts mixed with his rubbing fingers help bring her to her orgasm. “Keep going, I’m almost there. You feel amazing,” she admires as she feels herself clench around him. His orgasm washes over him too and he lets out a loud moan with his head thrown to her neck as his thrusts begin to slow down. He rides out both of their highs before pulling out of her with a peck to the lips.

She slouches against the wall a little tired from their activities and he brings her other leg up to his waist so he can carry her to the bathroom. Her legs tighten around him; her head buries into his neck. He feels the faint brush of her lips against the skin of his neck. He places her on the toilet, turning away so she can go in privacy. With her bladder now empty, he returns to her with a damp towel to help clean off her sticky cum. The condom he is wearing comes off and is discarded in the garbage. Her legs wobble a little as she tries to make her way to the sink. Rafe lets out a small chuckle at her Bambi-like walking and helps her to the sink so she can wash her hands.

After they finish getting ready for bed in the bathroom, he carries her back to his room and gently lays her down. He gets in on his side of the bed, bringing her head against his chest. She thinks of saying something to break the silence, but sleep finds her before she can.

——

It has been a month since that fateful night with Rafe. She left the next morning without waiting for him to wake up. Yes, they had an amazing night, but she didn’t think he was the relationship type so she wasn’t going to put him through the awkwardness of asking her to leave. Ever since that night, she’s been experiencing sore breasts, nausea, and mood swings; however, she just attributed those symptoms to her period coming soon. The trigger that brings her to where she is now is her missed period. Her period turned regular when she was sixteen so she shouldn’t skip a month. She stares at the wall of tests in front of her, trying to figure out the best one. She feels like everyone in the store is staring at her and just decides on whichever one she can grab first.

The drive home is filled with anxious silence as she looks over at the bag on her passenger seat at every red light. She gets home and follows the instructions on the box. Waiting for five minutes has never felt this long before. Y/N paces the bathroom with the fingernail of her thumb in her mouth and runs towards the pregnancy test when the timer goes off. She looks in the little window on the test. Her panic seeps through her as she sees the words ‘pregnant’. Her first thought is to find Rafe and tell him, but then she remembers all the stories she’s heard about him after they slept together.

He does drugs. He has anger issues and hurts people. It is all completely different from the person she spent the night with, yet everyone has said the same thing. And that is not the type of father she wants for her baby. She doesn’t know if she is going to keep the baby, but she knows that whatever she decides, Rafe cannot be involved.

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya

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olivsie · 1 month

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Something I like about epic the musical is that it Gives it's changes to the original text an actual Purpose

( The first couple paragraphs are basically a rant regarding retellings. If you only want to hear about epic Skip to paragraph 4)

1. I am a bit annoyed by the lack of. Understanding as to why RETELLINGS aren't the most historicaly accurate things in the world. Sorry to break this to you, but that's both just how they work and I would guess how they reach success. Ancient Greece is a much different culture than our own, And most of us would be terrified to actually live back then. When you are Trying to create content That is based on ancient Greece And you want it to be successful/ At least reach a wide, and notably, MODERN audience. You're likely going to have to take some creative liberty And change a few things. Don't get me wrong, YOU DO NOT HAVE TO LIKE RETELLINGS KNOWING THAT FACT ( Me personally, I'm not the biggest fan of Miller's novels Even though I do like epic) BUT IT IS SOMETHING TO BE AWARE OF. And because of that I don't think I would ever expect a retelling to be perfectly accurate And I don't. I had interest in mythology LONG before epic the musical But I didn't actually read the Odyssey until getting into epic. I did not expect it To be just like the musical, I knew Odysseus was going to be much more of an asshole, along with other characters. The odyssey and epic are different pieces of media to me And I am not less of a mythology nerd for liking epic ( Though I will admit that sometimes I take tiny little fun facts of mythology And like to think of them in the context of epic, but that's just for fun.)

2. The Only time being a fan of retellings is wrong as if you genuinely believe they are perfectly accurate And refuse to listen to anything else ( Which has definitely happened, And mythology nerds have the right to be annoyed at that)

3. Some people only like to consume real mythology media, Others like both real mythology and retellings, Others only like to engage with retellings (I would hope they have the self-awareness to know It's not real mythology, From what I've seen some do and some don't, Unfortunately)

4. Ok. now on to what the title of this long ass rant says

I like that epic the musical Retells the story, Not only to both cater to modern audience But Also with its OWN purpose of man versus monster.

Obviously, this is not the point of the original text. Mythos Odysseus does not give a single fuck About the stuff that epic odysseus does. I don't know why the creator Decided to rewrite it this way, (If he's ever said why let me know) But I would assume he wanted to make something about the oddessy And this was simply a very creative way to Translate that for modern audience.

I like this because, yes, holy damn. It does have changes from the original text. But it's not JUST changing it. It's changing it with a purpose

It feels reminiscent of some kind of Dramatic play. the way that epic characterizes.

Polites' kind nature is Representative of the Concept of being merciful Represented in his lines such as " This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms" /"There is so much guilt inside your heart, So why not replace it?"

While in contrast you have eurylochus with more ruthlessness and cautious nature, this is Found in some of his lines such as "You rely on wit, and people die on it" /"we don't know what's ahead" / "I say we strike first. We don't have time to waste so lets raid the place-" /"Let's just cut our losses, You and I and let's run"

And then you have Odysseus, the man/monster. The first act of this Musical is his internal struggle With what He should be On that scale. And the other characters Represent this struggle in the song monster

" Is the cyclops struck with gilt when he kills, is he up in the middle of the night? Or does he end my men to avenge his friend and then Sleep knowing he has done him right?

When the witch turns men to pigs to protect her nymphs, is she going insane? Or did she learn to be colder when she got older and now she saves them the pain?

When a God comes down and makes a Fleet drown Is he scared that he's doing something wrong? Or does he keep us in check So we must respect him and now no one dares to piss him off"

He then Applies this to himself

" Does a soldier use a wooden horse to kill sleeping trojans cause he is vile? Or does he throw away his remorse and save more lives with guile?"

And this marks his turning point of deciding that Ruthlessness It's ultimately worth it if it means Getting home, as aeolus says "The end Always justifies the means"

It's in my opinion, a very creative way to go about retelling a myth. Is it accurate? Absolutely not. For example, circe (From what we know) is not protecting When she turns men into pigs, For all we know, she could just do it because Shits and giggles.

Her character and most others in epic is changed from the original. But it's not ONLY changing for the sake of apeling to the modern Western audience and being successful like Many other retellings. It is also and mainly changing for the sake of influencing the plot that Jorge Rivera herrans crafted For the sake of Retelling epic. It is creative and I enjoy it despite knowing it's not accurate.

#epic the musical #odysseus #the oddyssey #tagamemnon #the iliad #greek mythology #again you do not need to like epic the musical or any other retellings #you are allowed to only like greek mythology itself #as a history enjoyer i understand the frustration and think its COMPLETELY valid to be annoyed when someone uwu's a figure #hell i would be annoyed if someone did that to the EPIC THE MUSICAL version of odysseus #he's still an asshole he's still a killer and a liar in epic just a lot more guilty about it then he would be in the oddessy #if all retelling fans had self awareness that its just a retelling and didn't “soft boi” either myth or retelling #i think we'd all be much happier

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zombiekillerbiceps · 1 year

Text

Am I Just a Joke to You?

Note: this was supposed to be so short. It was supposed to be a little drabble but noooooo I have to establish a whole ass dynamic and side characters. God damn it. Why is it this long. Jesus Christ.

Content: Long post, 4.6k words. Slow burn. Leon x Reader, no y/n, ambiguous era Leon between re2 and 4, mutual pining, jealousy, fake dating?, don't get caught, rough sex, size kink, slight possessive kink, proof read.

It takes Leon getting jealous to finally do something about your feelings for him.

---

"I don't dance."

You rolled your eyes at him. You were both all dressed up for a fancy, UN event that was supposed to be some kind of summit but was really just an excuse for bigger fish to rub elbows. Your job was to keep an eye on things. You were supposed to be protecting the president from the shadows. But honestly? You both scanned this place top to bottom. Half the fucking people here were probably various secret agents from every country on the planet with the exact same job as you. You did this kind of shit 5 times a year and nothing ever went wrong.

"How do you just not dance?" You asked him, picking out a martini from a tray as a caterer passed by. "I bet you're just bad at it."

Leon was leaning against the wall, scanning the room like a BOW was going to materialize out of the meticulously waxed tiled ground. He was clean shaven, his hair slicked back in a way that said he cared, but not that much. His suit fit him well. It perfectly hugged his shoulders and was tailored exactly to his height. His sleeves were rolled up, and you had to stop yourself from staring at his toned forearms. How many times did you fantasize about them wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him while he...

"Focus on the mission," he said. You met his eye and instantly felt embarrassed by the amused expression on his face. Fuck. He totally caught you staring.

You hid your embarrassment in the bottom of the martini glass, tilting it up to hide your face while you downed the whole thing. You passed it off to another serving tray bobbing between bodies.

"And maybe ease up on the drinking. We're on the job."

"Oh, like you've never gotten drunk on the job," you replied with an eye roll.

You'd gotten drunk together on a mission just a couple weeks ago! You were trapped in a snowy Swiss cabin with that blizzard keeping the chopper from retrieving you. He was the one that suggested it, even! Bringing over a crystal bottle of whiskey while you stoked a fire. The wood was limited, you needed to ration it carefully so the two of you didn't freeze. It'll warm us up, he said. It'll help with the adrenaline crash, he said. If we don't sleep next to each other, we'll be popsicles by morning, he said.

"That was different. The mission was over." You tried not to get your hopes up that he thought about that night too. It was the most recent incident, of course you'd both think of it. He didn't think of your bodies side by side, just centimeters from touching, hoping with bated breath that he would turn around and kiss you.

"This mission is basically over," you push. "Come on, Leon, this is a cake walk. We're getting paid a boat load just to be here, and if you want to just stand there, then you go ahead. But I didn't sew myself into this dress not to enjoy myself."

He was getting under your skin. He was always getting under your skin. You needed some space from him.

You turned your back on him and walked into the crowd. You didn't really have a path in mind but it looked like you were bee-lining for a buffet table, and you weren't about to embarrass yourself by doubling back. Especially not with his cool gaze on you. God, he was so irritating. Always so unbothered, like everything was a little bit boring to him, or worse - like everything was a bit of a joke. You knew if you turned around he'd have some wisecrack about getting lost, or missing him, or... Oh, who even cared. Why were you still thinking about him and his cocky smile anyways?

"Difficult choice, huh?" A different voice broke through your daydreams and you cursed yourself to get your shit together. The voice was a low, rolling Ghanaian accent, coming from a tall man that was wearing the best fucking cologne you'd ever smelled. You looked up from the expensive deserts you didn't realize you were staring at.

"Y-yeah," you smiled up at him, sizing him up while he took stock of you too. Broad, but not the kind of broad Leon was. Well built, healthy skin, shiny hair, but no scars or callouses. There was intelligence behind his black eyes. He wasn't a threat. Likely a diplomat of some kind. "There's always so much food I've never heard of at these things."

"You are naturally curious, then?" He leaned against the table while he talked to you. He flashed a charismatic smile that should have charmed you, but irritation still itched at the back of your mind.

"As much as anyone else is," you shrugged, pushing away thoughts of Leon and grounding yourself. A perfectly handsome man was flirting with you, fuck Leon. "Are you?"

"Absolutely. My name is Kwameno. Not that one." He extended his hand to shake. You took note of his perfectly manicured nails. You'd wager this man knew how to dance.

Your eyes darted to where you last saw Leon. You didn't know what you were hoping for. His eyes were fixated on you, expression unreadable from this distance. His posture was as unbothered as always. He was probably worried you'd do something stupid, like give your name. You know, you know, we're on a mission, we couldn't underestimate people, this man could be an enemy lying in wait. You had to blink to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him. You forced your gaze back to Kwameno and shook his hand.

"It's a pleasure." You didn't release his hand, instead taking it in both hands like the two of you were good friends. You leaned forward like you were sharing a secret. "Do you know how to dance, Mr. Kwameno?"

You knew the answer before he gave it. He was the kind of man who was used to women sneaking off with him with just a few words and a brilliant smile. So, you'd be the challenge. A mysterious stranger in a tastefully tight black dress, making him work to charm you. He fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

"I know a little," he said. "May I offer you a dance, Ms..."

"Mrs, actually," Leon's voice hovered behind you, smouldering with something you couldn't quite figure out. A knot worked it's way into your stomach.

"Oh, I apologize sir. I did not realize. I did not see a ring," Kwameno replied. He sounded genuine, but that last comment was an intentional jab.

"Her fingers swell when she drinks," Leon lied. He took one hand in his as if to prove a point, rubbing his thumb in a small circle in your palm. You couldn't ignore the intimacy of the gesture, his chest so close to your back you could sense the rise and fall of his chest.

What the fuck was he doing?

"If you wanted to dance, darling, why didn't you just ask?" Leon's voice was lowered, making it clear he was talking to you and only you. His breath stirred the hair at your temple. Your face almost turned to meet him, but you stopped short. The air felt hot suddenly. The closeness was decidedly unprofessional. It got your hopes up for something you knew he wouldn't give you and worst of all was that smug fucking tone in his stupid voice.

"I did, dear. I believe you told me that you didn't dance." There was barely hidden venom in your voice.

He moved so fluidly you hadn't even noticed that he was already leading you away from the other man. One hand on your waist, leading you towards where people were dancing in a slow, classical style. Some kind of tango, maybe?

"I didn't like that song," he deflected. He turned you to face him, that stupid smirk on his face. You wanted to hit him. You wanted to ask what he was doing this for. He was probably just going to lecture you about letting your guard down and you didn't want to hear it, and your arms were wrapped around the back of his neck before you knew what you were doing.

You should stop, you thought. He probably knew how you felt. He was probably teasing you, always looking for something he could have over you.

Then, one hand was taking yours in his, the callouses mirroring your own. Another found its way to your lower back, pulling you in close to him. He was steady and strong. Confident. You could feel his solid frame beneath the suit as your body pressed close to his. He led you through the dance expertly.

"Where did you learn how to dance?" you asked.

"Would you believe it was part of training?"

"Not unless I missed a memo," you replied.

You didn't know the tango or whatever dance you were doing, and you couldn't pull off any flashy moves, but you also didn't have to. He led, you followed, wordlessly reading and responding to each other. It was like fighting together, but quieter.

You knew you should stop. You knew that whatever this felt like, it wasn't. Yet, you couldn't stop yourself from placing one hand at the back of his neck, feeling the fine hair there. He reached his hand up and pulled yours from the back of his neck, and you burned with embarrassment. He uncoiled your arm from his shoulder. Then, he held you at arm's length.

You were struck by how beautiful he was in the warm lighting. Blonde hair pushed out of his chiseled face for once, letting you take in the sharpness of his features. A soft smile played on his lips. His blue eyes, normally so shadowed, were gentle. They gave his expression something close to open affection. He smiled playfully. Then, he rolled his hips in an exaggerated, flamboyant motion and the sight was so absurd you barked a laugh. He pulled you back in with a spin and a flourish. Your bodies pressed against each other again.

He returned your hand to the back of his neck.

I could kiss him, you thought. His face leaned down towards yours, a hand tracing your back from lower to middle. I should kiss him.

He let out a soft chuckle that turned your blood to slush.

Was this just a fucking game to him? See how far he could take it, just to... To laugh in your face when you finally think of giving in like he's won something? Tears welled in your eyes from the frustration. You pulled away from him.

"Wait, no-"

"Fuck you," you snapped.

You turned on your heel and started to walk away from him. He followed.

"No, wait, let me explain-"

"Am I just a fucking joke to you?" You couldn't look at him. This room was too small, too hot, too many watchful eyes.

"No!" He started to say the first syllable of your name but stopped, seemingly noticing the eyes on you. "Darling, I wasn't-"

"You were being mean!" You turned to face him now, swallowing the tears with your pride. You had killed BOW's the size of a tree and Leon had reduced you to a school-yard child, calling your bully a big dumb meanie pants. You couldn't think of anything else to say. "I can handle the teasing, and the snide insults, and the smartass comments but that was mean."

He stood there, open mouthed and rooted to his place. You took the moment of him being stunned to make your escape. He moved to follow you again when Kwameno stepped between the two of you, and you were thankful to get more ground.

"I don't think the lady wants to talk to you right now," you heard him say. A split moment of quiet before you heard Leon's response.

"If you want to keep that hand, I suggest you take it off me."

You'd rarely heard Leon's voice so threatening. You cast a look behind you to see Kwameno's hand was on Leon's chest. Kwameno was taller than Leon, but Leon was bigger. In muscles and energy. Leon spoke in the kind of way that commanded obedience.

Fuck it. Let them fight, blow our cover, I don't care, you thought, and kept walking.

Ten minutes went by of you searching for a bathroom to hide but, but for whatever goddamn reason the mansion the event was being held in was the only mansion ever built without any goddamn bathrooms.

Fuck! You were so stupid. Not only did you potentially blow your cover with that high school drama bullshit, but you actually believed Leon might want you.

God fucking damn it.

You were lost. You'd wandered into some dark hallway you were pretty sure was off limits, but there was no red tape anywhere and you were pretty dead set on finding a bathroom to hide in. Besides, what else were you going to do? Go back into that ballroom and do your job like an adult? Look Leon in the eyes and pretend like he didn't lean in to kiss you and then laugh in your face?

"Asshole," you said to the empty hallway. You tried a door knob, but it didn't turn. "Why isn't there some kind of bathroom usher. Fucking. Open goddamn it!"

You heard the sounds of footsteps coming down the hall. You knew they were Leon's. You didn't even have to turn your head. You tried the door again like it would magically unlock for you this time.

"I don't think they want you in there," he said, his voice attempting levity.

"Shouldn't you be watching the president."

"Like you said, half the people here are probably secret agents."

"Go do your job," you tried so hard to sound cold, but there was a waver in your voice. You abandoned that door and crossed the hall to try another.

"I wasn't laughing at you," Leon said. There was something genuine in his voice that caught you off guard long enough for him to close the distance between you. "I was just... Surprised."

You looked up at him, defenses flaring, only to lose momentum the second you saw him. The hallway was empty, and the two of you were far enough away from the main party that it felt like you were the only two people in the building. You crossed your arms and leaned against the doorframe. He shoved his hands in his pockets and did the same, infuriatingly handsome while he did it.

"I know you know how I feel about you," you said. You were almost surprised by how tired you sounded. This quiet moment drained the anger from you. "You aren't stupid."

He chewed his lip, meeting your gaze but clearly mulling over what to say. You gave him the time to think it out.

"I didn't think anything would happen between us," he said eventually. "I realized I could kiss you, and..."

He trailed off. He didn't wear vulnerability well. But, neither did you. This was uncomfortable.

"Let's just... Forget this ever happened," you offered.

"No."

"Nothing is going to happen between us."

He took a single step towards you, closing the small distance between you entirely. He leaned on one arm between you and the door, looking down at you. A strand of blonde hair fell loose from his style. There was something pleading and a little confused in his eyes. His other hand brushed your jaw and tilted your head up to look at him. He was so... Gentle. Earnest. Your heart pounded in your chest.

"I want this," he breathed. "Don't you?"

There was no humour or sarcasm in his voice. He wanted you. And, if you were reading this right, he wanted you to want him too. He didn't push, but he didn't back off either. The next move was yours.

Oh, fuck it.

You kissed him. The second your lips met his, everything else faded away except excitement. And then, heat.

He didn't rush the kiss, but his hands were on your body immediately. Grasping at your hips while his tongue met yours, pressing you into the doorframe behind you. Your own hands slipped under his jacket, feeling the muscles under the silk button up he wore. You knew he was fit, you'd seen him in action, but god it was entirely different to feel it for yourself. To feel his strong arms wrapped around you. His hands travelled up the curves of your hips, then gently caressed your shoulders. He was so gentle.

He bit your bottom lip, earning a small noise from you. His kiss traveled down your jaw to the sensitive spot below your ear, beside your throat, the curve of your collar bone. He licked up the length of your neck with hot breath meeting cool air in a way that made you shiver, ending with a kiss that made you moan.

"Leon, don't-" he was already pulling away. You had to catch his shoulders and pull him back, "- don't leave any marks, we're at work."

You could feel him grin into your neck.

"But that's half the fun," he complained, his sultry voice coiling in your stomach. Oh, you'd let him do anything he asked if he asked in that voice.

One of your hands found his belt, pulling his hips flush against yours with it. He groaned, his hands becoming more insistent. They grabbed your hips and the outside of your thighs. He found the hem of your dress and pushed it up, fingertips brushing against the bare skin. One hand tucking around to the back of your leg, lifting your thigh so you could wrap a leg around his waist. You pulled him close with your leg and almost whimpered. You could feel how hard he was in those dress pants, pressed right up against where you needed him most. You could probably just push your underwear to the side and...

"Fuck," you muttered, fire burning in you now.

"Yeah?" He asked, grinding against you just lightly enough to tease. You whimpered, hands tightening on his back. "Oh, what was that, sweetheart?"

"Shut up," you tried to kiss him but he hovered just out of reach. Stupid, cocky smirk on his face. How was he still irritating you?

Fine.

You reached down to where your hips met and grasped his cock over his suit pants. You weren't as gentle as he was, stroking him firmly through the fabric. His eyebrows stitched together, a low groan rumbling from his throat. He looked so fucking pretty like that.

"Oh," you whispered mockingly, "what was that?"

He sighed something that sounded pretty close to bitch and your hips rocked up at the thought. He noticed, something between a moan and a laugh hummed into a kiss.

You wanted him to fuck you. God, you wanted him so fucking badly. But there was a reason you couldn't... What was it again?

Oh, shit. You were huddled in some off-limits hallway at a UN meeting when you were supposed to be protecting the president.

"We can't," you whispered. You pulled back from the kiss, the two of you panting with lust and adrenaline.

"Why not?" He asked, but he stilled his hands on you.

"We're at work!" You reminded him, giggling. His forehead rested against yours and he started to chuckle too. And then it grew to full blown laughter from both of you. Some of the tension defused between you, laughing it away until your cheeks hurt from grinning.

"You're right," he conceded. Then, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "It wouldn't be appropriate."

"It wouldn't..." You cautiously agreed. He was up to something.

"Especially out in this hallway where anyone could catch us."

"Mhm...." The thought of getting caught bloomed warm between your legs, making you realize then how worked up you were. Could be feel how wet you were between the cotton underwear and his suit?

A hand left your body, leaving you cold where it had been, and grasped the doorknob next to you. You watched his arms flex with effort, tendons coiling under the skin. Goddamn, he was strong. There was a loud metallic pop as the doorknob snapped. The door swung open.

"Then we better not get caught," he said.

You were on him in a flash. The show of strength turned you on, urgency building up inside you. You really shouldn't be doing this. That only made it hotter.

He led you into the dark room, closing the door gently shut behind him. There was no lock to keep it closed, but no breeze or uneven ground to swing it open.

He backed you up towards a surface- a desk maybe?- the solid wood biting into your ass as he pinned you against it with his body. Your kisses grew messy, strands of spit connecting your tongues when you parted for air.

You pulled your underwear down, stepping one leg out of them. He followed your lead, pulling his zipper down. You could hardly see him in the dark, but the outline of his cock pulled from his boxer-briefs intimidated you. You watched, transfixed, as he worked his cock. He leaned his face closer towards you. You could still feel his movements, the wet between your legs threatening to start dripping. His breath was hot against your ear when he spoke.

"Getting me jealous like that was a clever little trick," he said.

"It wasn't on purpose," you said, and realized then you were lying to him.

"Bullshit." He pulled one of your legs back up around his waist, hands gripping you harder this time. It hurt a little. He stopped stroking his cock to press his fingers against your slit. He groaned, voice shuddering, "fuck, you're so wet for me."

For me.

"All for you," you told him. Goddamn, that sounded dumb, but you wanted him to say it again. You needed to hear it again. For him. His.

Two fingers dipped into your cunt and you moaned. He hesitated like he was deciding between two options, and then his fingers pushed inside you. You buried your face in his shoulder to muffle another moan.

"So needy for me," he cooed. He curled his fingers inside you, expertly working that sensitive, bundle of nerves. Fuck. Fuck, that felt so good. "I know, baby."

You must have said that out loud. Shame burned your cheeks red but you quickly forgot it. The tension in your center was growing quickly. Dizzyingly quickly.

"Does that feel good?" he asked. All you could do was whimper and nod. "Yeah?"

Your legs were shaking, your breath was coming quicker. He let out the occasional groan along with you. Was he that turned on working you up like this? Fuck, you could feel his cock leaking onto your leg. It was too much.

"Leon, please! Fuck, fuck I'm so close," you tried so hard to keep quiet.

"Yeah? Cum for me, sweetheart. Come on. Cum for me." His begging in your ear pushed you over the edge, cunt spasming around his fingers, whimpering into his shoulder.

He slowed as you came down, letting you catch your breath. You didn't need to see his face to tell there was some proud, smug look on it.

"Fuck you," you muttered, hearing him chuckle in response.

"That's what you get for making me jealous," he told you. He slipped his fingers from your pussy, leaving you feeling empty. You watched him use the wetness on his hands to circle the head of his cock.

Oh my god. Using your own cum to fuck himself. The combination of your wetness made a lewd, squelching sound as he fucked himself.

He rested his forehead against your shoulder and lined his cock up with your warmth. You were breathless with how badly you needed him to push into you.

He let out a shuddering breath and didn't move. You rocked your hips against him, trying to get an angle that you could slide onto him, but failed. You let out a frustrated whimper.

"Please, Leon. Stop teasing me."

"Beg for it."

"What?"

He placed a hand on your cheek and made you look him in the eyes. The hand drifted around to the back of your neck, squeezing lightly. His gaze was heavy. Serious. "Beg for me."

You searched his face, weighing your options. The growing need you felt was almost unbearable but begging for him felt like admitting defeat and you weren't about to grovel.

Then it dawned on you. He was looking for consent. You nodded, desperation driving you mad.

"Fuck me," you begged, "please fuck me."

His cock pushed into you with an obscene noise, gliding into you so, so easily. He filled you almost to the point of hurting you. Then he pulled out again, slowly, almost to the point of leaving you empty.

His hand tightened on the back of your neck, using it as leverage to pull himself into you. His pace got frenzied. Hard. The two of you whimpered, moaned, babbled out nonsense of mostly "fuck," and "please," and "so fucking good."

You were getting close again. Your pussy tightening around him, only making you more sensitive. You didn't realize how loud you were getting when his hand left your thigh and clapped around your mouth. You blinked in surprise, meeting his eyes: heavy lidded and pussy-drunk.

"If you don't shut the fuck up, we're going to get caught," he groaned. The timber of his voice, the roughness of his hands on your face and neck, the relentless pace he set with his hips... All topped off with the threat of being discovered doing something you really shouldn't. You tried to quiet down, but you were so close, and he felt so good. Of course he noticed. He noticed everything.

"Skirt hiked up, fucking me on the job," he grunted out, his voice getting higher pitched near the end. His pace was less steady, more erratic. "Fuck, m'so close."

You moaned your encouragement into his hand, pleading with your eyes. He tightened his jaw, fighting to keep himself quiet. His pitch got higher, faster. The sounds of your pussy soaking his cock heard over your muffled moans. You were close.

Fuck.

His hips snapped into you harder than before, just pushing you over the edge with white-hot ferocity. He pushed into you deeper, gasping and whimpering, cumming with you.

He looked so pretty when he was cumming.

You came down together, breathing hard, gently rolling to a stop. He slowly moved his hands from your face and his grip on the back of your neck eased up.

"I can't believe we just did that," you whispered, laughing in disbelief. He chuckled too, the sound familiar to the laugh on the dance floor, and another soft realization dawned on you.

He slowly pulled away, gently cradling your face, his eyes asking a question you weren't sure you understood.

"I don't regret it," you guessed. He smiled, then shook his head.

"I'm glad, but I didn't hurt you, did I? I was holding your face pretty hard."

You shook your head, gently kissing him.

"It was hot," you reassured him.

You held each other for a few minutes longer and enjoyed the afterglow. You both knew you needed to go, but neither wanted to initiate it. You tried to ease out of the moment.

"We should do that more often," you joked. He laughed softly in surprise.

"Yeah, we should."

He stepped away from you with a final kiss, pulling up his pants and tucking his silk shirt into them. You pulled your underwear up and smoothed down your dress. You helped fix each other's hair, soft, giddy smiles between you.

Then you snuck out of the room, hoping no one noticed you were gone for too long.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #resident evil smut #re4r smut #leon kennedy smut #re4r fanfic #re2r fanfic #leon kennedy x you #hey if you liked this consider leaving a comment!

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nexility-sims · 18 days

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𝐍𝐎. 𝟒 (𝟏/𝟐) ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜ | THE DEN, AUGUST 1991

❧ 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 / 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 / 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 / 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

❛ Leonor relished the daytime emptiness of The Den almost as much as the bustling nights she spent within it. Unlike most of Nakawe’s bars, it didn’t open until the sun went down, and it didn’t close as long as someone with the keys was willing to stick around. The first time Renzo asked her to stop by in the middle of the day, Leonor expected to find the place occupied but robbed of its liveliness. If not catering to the needs of drunks, daytime bars in her imagination were for desperate lunchtime breaks and closing business deals, neither of which Renzo’s private hideaway seemed to welcome. She was surprised to find him lingering on the sidewalk, waiting for her with a cigarette in one hand and a set of keys in the other. He pushed the door open and revealed The Den as she had yet to imagine it: empty, silent, still.

❧ goes without saying but, if you're not reading the prose, you're missing half the story !!! part two soon ... (i am also proud bc i made many poses, pls clap)

𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

Renzo laughed at her, breaking the quiet. “One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind,” he said, mimicking a voice in perfectly unaccented Simerican that Leonor didn’t recognize. She had been standing, unmoving, while she soaked in the surreality.

He was going behind the bar, hitting lights as he went, but knew to clarify, “You look like you’re in outer space. New planet. New dimension.”

That was, in a way, how it felt. The soundproofing was impeccable. She couldn’t hear the boulevard just outside the door. Renzo began messing with bottles and humming to himself, but the few seconds after the door had shut were enough to make an impression. She liked being there during the day. She liked this version of the place, one that looked like a true escape from the world, where she could feel the residual good vibes of the previous night with the perfect clarity of a new day. She liked fanning her work out across the bar or on a couch. She liked pretending to be occupied with it while Renzo sat on the stage with a pencil behind his ear or colored block letters on handmade posters or laid, completely unmoving, on the dirty floor. Sometimes he worked, too. Leonor liked those instances best, and she allowed herself to be distracted by his miming of scenes and murmuring dialogue and tuning guitars across the room.

“Why is no one else here?” she asked him one day, once this had become something of a once-a-week routine.

They were curled up together like cats but were each engrossed in their own work. Renzo was reading a script, muttering words silently to himself. Leonor had a stack of policy briefs and a red pen. He took the pen from her after she spoke and began scribbling it against the flesh of her palm, gentle at first but then hard enough to draw out the ink in streaked lines.

“You keep coming,” he said, enunciating each word. On her palm’s heel, he drew the glyph of his name. It was faint, so he traced and retraced the details. “I keep asking.” Then, looking up, he posed his own question. “Who else do you want here?”

She shrugged, and he nodded.

“If you’re worried this means something,” Here, he paused and angled the pen with purpose, tilting one end toward himself before pointing it toward her. “It doesn’t.”

Renzo continued, sitting up, “Besides, I don’t wanna be around everyone all the time.” He said it as if the mere thought was an affront unable to be stomached. “God. Some of the people who come in here sometimes? Fuck.”

“Why do you let them?”

Renzo reacted as if it were a question he had never pondered, and Leonor quirked an eyebrow as he sat there considering it. How foolish, she thought, if he hadn’t. She decided it was possible he was a fool, but she also decided that she should wait for his answer to really know—and, even if he was, that she would probably think it was endearing. He was the kind of famous that meant he had to be talented, not wise. Although he preferred providing a stage on which others might perform, she had seen enough to know he had talent. He made use of it. She already knew, too, that he wasn’t wise. She’d seen that when he’d said rude things to cameramen outside the bar or, on a different night, when he’d shoved another so hard he dropped his camera. That was inadvisable. It was even more inadvisable than Leonor having been there, at his side, walking slow to avoid stumbling, when it happened. At the time, she laughed. She could practically hear herself in the memory, giggling while a scuffle threatened to break out.

Enough time passed for her to wince at the recollection before Renzo spoke. When he did, it was definitive. “I’m cool,” he explained. “I’m a cool guy. I have to be cool. You can’t be yourself if you aren’t cool, you know?”

She did know. That was one of the key distinctions between royalty and celebrity.

Renzo elaborated further, “I start policing the door, that’s not cool. People make it into a problem. It’s just not the kind of problem you can have—not with people who are, as it were, your peers.” He sneered that word, and Leonor could picture who he meant. If she had come through that door with Kore during any other year of her life, she would have been one of them. “The more famous you are, the more you’re in rooms with fucking assholes. It’s just,” He rolled his eyes. “Sometimes the assholes want to come into your room.”

He gestured around with a grand flourish, and Leonor snickered. “Gotta let ‘em,” he sighed.

She nodded, quipping, “You let me.” Immediately, she regretted voicing the thought, but Renzo found it amusing.

“Not the same,” he responded, shaking his head.

With some success, she played an earnest question off as a tease. “Why not?”

He shrugged, “You’re not a problem, Leonor. Nice girl, that’s what everyone said. I was, uh, excited you were here.”

“Were you?”

“Yeah.” He grinned, adding, “Squeaky clean and incorruptible—they said that, too. Excitement, anticipation, same thing.”

“Sure, okay,” Leonor chuckled. “I’m a real good-time girl now, aren’t I?”

Renzo regarded her thoughtfully, and Leonor resisted the urge to squirm away. Their conversations always teetered on the edge of confessional, whether because Renzo spoke with such bluntness or because his openness encouraged her to respond in kind. Leonor never allowed herself to speak so freely as to admit everything, but she made honest admissions that Renzo accepted without judgment. He wasn’t wise, but he had, in some ways, lived more lives than she had. Usually, he just knew what to say. She took that as solid in some essential way, as a support to lean against.

“You’re happier that way,” was his ultimate reply.

Leonor sat with that thesis for a moment, debating whether it was true—or, for that matter, if the veracity of it mattered at all. She wanted it to be true. That had to be enough and, in that moment, it was.

Now it was August. Months had passed since that conversation, but Leonor still felt the same way. She felt the same way, too, about the quiet of The Den on a weekday afternoon, which is how she found it now. She let herself in through the unlocked front door, knowing she would find Renzo somewhere inside. There were big plans looming. He might be stringing lights, or testing microphones, or standing with his legs wide apart and a hand pensively cupping his chin. On the phone earlier, he had sounded busy. He was instead at the bar, hunched over with a pen in his hand. Whatever he was working on demanded great concentration. Leonor allowed the big, heavy door to close slowly and gave herself a few extra moments. Partly, she wanted to delay the conversation. Another reason was to observe him. If he’d heard her enter, which she doubted, he made no indication. Through the dim lighting, she could see him chewing his lip. He tapped his fingers in a simple rhythm against his thigh.

“Writing?” she called, emerging from the shadowy entryway. The last sliver of sunlight disappeared as the door finally closed, hard but muffled, behind her.

Renzo didn’t look up as he replied, “Wrote. Done now.”

“Is it for the reading tonight?”

“Did you write anything?”

Leonor wasn’t feeling light enough to laugh, so she made an approximate noise instead. “Why would you ask that?”

Now, he eyed her with a look of provocation. “You’re an artist, Nora,” he said. “Everyone has their medium, sure—I’ve seen yours, very nice—but I think you should take the written word more seriously. It doesn’t have to be an endpoint, really. Maybe a translation.”

At this bit of persuasion, Leonor scoffed. “I can be creative; I am not an artist. Besides,” She paused, settling in on a stool beside him. “Everything for everyone is not the kind of world I want to live in.”

Renzo scoffed now, but he was smirking as he said, “Well, fuck, if that isn’t the most hereditary monarchist thing I’ve ever heard. Alright, my princess, if you say so.”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” she protested, but he waved her off.

Solemn, he admitted, “It’s true. I’m jobless in that world.” Renzo held up his paper and inspected it. “Can’t host private poetry readings with free booze for my friends if I’m as poor as I was in ‘87, that’s for sure.”

“Wouldn’t know me,” she said, lowering her head. It was meant as a gesture of mock sadness but, in this moment, she did find the notion disquieting.

“You don’t know any poor people?”

Leonor’s rueful smile faltered as she considered that. “I don’t think so?”

Instead of laughing, Renzo looked at her with an expression that was neither quite amused nor fully bemused. She waited for a joke that never came. Instead, he turned back to looking at his paper. Tension mounted within while he sat there looking focused once more but otherwise relaxed. Finally, as if remembering they were in the middle of a conversation, he said simply, “I’m glad I know you, yeah.”

Leonor shifted on her stool. It was a motion of discomfort, something she could do while she thought of something else to say. In the process, she caught a good look at the words on the page. Her lips parted to pose the question—‘Will you read it to me?’—but she stopped herself. Renzo had gotten caught up in this occupation, it seemed. He must have forgotten why she called. She had half-expected him to be waiting, face toward the door, for her arrival. Usually, he was curious when she indicated she had something to share, not nosy or greedy for insight but possessed with sincere interest. He was a listener. He enjoyed it as much as whatever conversation ensued. Once, she decided to imitate his way of jabbing people with questions—incisive and direct, not pointed. His questions flowed without pretense. They were bare inquiries, genuine as his interest. Her question was just so: did he think himself trustworthy—did he want to be a confidante?

His answer surprised her, and she had felt a kind of awe as he’d replied, ‘Honestly, no, that would be a bad idea. I know myself, so I don’t stop others from knowing me. User beware.’

Now, she leaned against the bar and heaved a sigh. Renzo looked over at her and let the paper slide unceremoniously back onto the surface.

“What is it?”

Leonor snapped back to earlier that day. No longer sitting on a barstool beside Renzo, she found herself at a table that abruptly felt too small. Her father sat across from her, his hands folded on top, the thick band of his favorite watch visible under his sleeve’s cuff. It matched his wedding band. It was almost afternoon, and he arrived late to the early lunch he had requested of her. For twenty minutes, she sat at the table with her bare arm pressed against the warm glass window. She could have left at any point. It wouldn’t have been rude; better still, she could have imagined no reason to regret it. Yet, she didn’t. She sat and waited, staring out of the window or across the restaurant’s bustling dining area with an expression so forlorn that it compelled the server to stop by for a check-in several more times than was necessary. Each time, Leonor glanced up at her with a forced smile. ‘No, thank you,’ she would say. ‘It’s fine. I’m waiting.’

“Do you remember, I told you I was meeting with my father today?”

Renzo thought for a moment, then nodded. “Right, yeah, breakfast.”

“Lunch,” she corrected, before laying her head on the bar. It was cool, if sticky, and the embrace of her forearms easily blacked out the low light. “It went awfully.”

“You said it was going to be weird,” Renzo responded. “Did he tell you what you wanted to hear—I mean, what he said he needed to talk about, was it worth it?”

Leonor closed her eyes. For a moment, she wished she could just drift off into a deep, unbreakable slumber, right then and there. She imagined herself slumped over on the bar as evening began, a curiosity rudely ignoring the raw, vulnerable poetry that a string of performers offered. Someone would try to shake her awake when the night’s end came. ‘Leave her,’ Renzo would say. ‘She’ll be okay here.’ And, she would be. Night after night, day after day, she would rest there. She would become more than just a fixture—she would be a unique decoration, a conversation-starter, really and truly part of the bar’s collection of interesting things. Becoming a thing wouldn’t be so bad. People would tell stories about her even after she had rotted away and crumbled to dust. ‘A sleeping princess sat here,’ they would say. ‘Her prince never came along, I guess.’

That didn’t happen, and Leonor lifted her head. “It was kind of hard to follow, honestly,” she said. “He was late, and he kept trying to rehash—well, he wanted to tell me about it again, you know, what happened?” Leonor sighed. “I wanted to cry. It was so embarrassing. It wasn’t even new information.”

“None of it?” Renzo asked. He had angled himself toward her, leaning against the bar while he gazed at her perturbed face.

Leonor, feeling pitiful, shrugged. “I didn’t really want to listen,” she admitted. “I kept thinking about Mother Beatriz the whole time.”

Renzo’s heavy-lidded eyes ordinarily conveyed one of two sharply contrasting states. At times, he looked bored out of his mind—entirely removed from whatever was happening, on another planet even when his pupils weren’t giving away a convenient reason why. He had an almost unsettling kind of attentiveness other times. When they first met, Leonor found the way he had looked at her from beneath long, dark eyelashes alluring. She felt looked upon or looked through most of the time; with his heady stare, Renzo looked at her. She hadn’t fully appreciated the distinction until their regular conversations. Now, as she waited for him to respond to her admission, she appreciated it more.

Finally, Renzo posed another question. “Do you think he was responsible?”

TRANSCRIPT:

LEONOR | Writing? RENZO | Wrote. Done now.

LEONOR | Is it for the reading tonight? RENZO | Did you write anything? LEONOR | Why would you ask that?

RENZO | You're an artist, Nora. Everyone has their medium, sure—I've seen yours, very nice—but I think you shoudl take the written word more seriously. It doesnt' have to be an endpoint, really. Maybe a translation.

LEONOR | I can be creative; I am not an artist.

LEONOR | Besides, everything for everyone is not the kind of world I want to live in. RENZO | Well, fuck, if that isn't the most hereditary monarchist thing I've ever heard. Alright, my princess, if you say so.

LEONOR | I didn't mean it that way. RENZO | It's true. I'm jobless in that world.

RENZO | Can't host private poetry readings with free booze for my friends if I'm as poor as I was in '87, that's for sure. LEONOR | Wouldn't know me … RENZO | You don't know any poor people?

LEONOR | I don't think so?

RENZO | I'm glad I know you, yeah.

[Leonor sighs] RENZO | What is it?

LEONOR | Do you remember, I told you I was meeting with my father today?

RENZO | Right, yeah, breakfast. LEONOR | Lunch. It went awfully. RENZO | You said it was going to be weird. Did he tell you what you wanted to hear—I mean, what he said he needed to talk about, was it worth it?

LEONOR | It was kind of hard to follow, honestly. He was late, and he kept trying to rehash—well, he wanted to tell me about it again, you know, what happened [sighs] I wanted to cry. It was so embarrassing. It wasn't even new information.

RENZO | None of it? LEONOR | I didn't really want to listen. I kept thinking about Mother Beatriz the whole time. RENZO | Do you think he was responsible?

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powdermelonkeg · 8 months

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I want to write a world that is explicitly ablist in its design, but I don't wanna come off as endorsing it in any way. Any tips on how I could do that?

The trick with that is to separate the tone of the narration from the world itself. You want your setting's background characters to accept something as normal, but you want to unsettle your audience with what the characters are willing to ignore.

This is how I would go about it.

Let's say, for instance, you want to make a world that's actively hostile to blind and low-vision people. By design, nothing would be catered to them; crosswalks wouldn't have sound cues, braille doesn't exist, tripping hazards are everywhere, service dogs aren't allowed.

That's, unfortunately, already reality for a lot of the blind community, so you're already basing it on something realistic. Making a world like that and not doing anything with it would come across as endorsing it on your part, because it looks like you just didn't consider blind people when making your setting.

So you do have to do something with it.

Let's take it a step further.

Lean into the tragedies this makes and the callousness of the everyday person. A blind man got hit with a car while crossing the street—your reader feels sympathy for them. But your main character overhears people discussing it, and the passers-by sound blunt and cruel: "It's his own fault he got hit, he should have gotten someone to walk him." "Didn't he have anyone who can take care of him?" "I hope the driver didn't get fined too badly, they really should just make hazardous people stay home."

Stigmatize things over-the-top: Glasses are a sign of moral failing, because the local religion equates lack of vision with punishment from the gods. Why would a god forbid its creation from seeing its world, if not to punish them? So people forego glasses. They have to examine things uncomfortably close, they laugh off their bad reading skills, they get into crashes more often. A hospital patient starts going blind and has a panic attack, they were such a good person, how could this happen to them? It'll get better soon, right? Right?!

Make people go to harder lengths to avoid falling into the traps the setting has laid for them. People willing to shell out their life savings to get expensive surgery to restore their sight—except it doesn't always work, sometimes it messes your brain up further, but hey, that's a risk you need to take. Gran didn't survive the procedure, but Gran was old, those things happen to other people, not to you. Then have your setting capitalize on it—it's not just that you can restore your sight with the risky surgery, but you socially have no choice. Everyone is pestering you until you get it, your parents are looking down on you for not having perfect sight, and companies won't hire you, but there are ads in the paper for three different acclaimed doctors, and you know a guy who knows someone in a back alley that does it for half the cost, but is notorious for scarring their patients.

Your reader doesn't live in this reality. They'll read these and collectively go "What fresh hell is this."

An ableist author writing an ableist setting doesn't do this. Their setting is detrimental to their disabled characters, if they have any at all, but the detriment is either never touched on or is framed as "necessary."

If an author endorsing this kind of setting were to place a story in it, they would have a token blind character on the side that needs help constantly, that's patronized but never has a problem with it, who gets the pricey surgery, gets out of it scot-free, and is so SO happy to be "normal" again.

An author that doesn't endorse the setting and wants you to be unhappy with it has that same character scared of the procedure, but their friends and family urge them to get it anyways. They face hardships because they can't see, to the point where they finally cave in and get it, except it doesn't go perfectly—even if they have sight now, they also have to deal with constant pain, overstimulation, and light sensitivity. And yes, everyone treats them "better" now that they can see, but that's a gut-wrenching thing; they get into arguments with their parents because "you didn't love me until I had sight," they go quiet in job interviews because a job they fought so hard for before is just handed to them now, they receive blessings they don't want from a religion that "calls them home" from the sin of being blind.

THAT is how you write an ableist setting explicitly portrayed as ableist. You make the setting cause hardship and pain, and you write it in such a way that your reader would never want to endure that aspect of it.

Cheat code checklist:

Add features/remove aids to get in the disability's way

Have background characters victim-blame the disabled that live in it

Make the social setting unbearable for a disabled character

Show the struggles of a character WITH that disability living in that setting

#disability #writeblr #ask bee

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ryuichirou · 15 days

Text

Replies

And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Anonymous asked:

I’m sorry you went through all that crap. I hope things are better for you. ):

Oh, if you’re talking about the situation from my past, then yeah, it’s much better now! Thank you so much for your concern <3 It is very sweet of you.

However, we do have a more serious situation on our hands right now, but I won’t go into details. This blog is for discussing the colour of Idia’s nipples, not this.

Speaking of which…

Anonymous asked:

I want to lick Idia’s chest. Apologies.

Quickly, Anon, Ortho is holding him just for you to lick! Ahh shoot he ran way…

Anonymous asked:

a lot of people tend to forget we’re asking you about /your/ hcs. and it’s perfectly ok if we disagree! what fun would the internet be without different opinions (the only valid hc is rook’s love language is stalking lol).

anyways who out of the cast do you think would own yaoi manga/doujins? personally i think idia would. maybe. if it’s physical/paper he can hide his naughty stuff from ortho and his mom…

Exactly! A lot of things influence the way people come up with ideas, this is such a complex thing, of course not everything is going to cater to everyone – this is simply impossible. Picking and choosing and reading stuff that interests you while avoiding things that annoy or hurt you is always the way to go.

(Rook’s love language is stalking, fuck yeah lol)

Oh, that’s a fun question. I feel like Idia would be the only one, and he would also probably have this excuse/explanation, like he really isn’t into BL, but this particular work is just very good, it has great art style, good writing + Idia’s favourite artist was influenced by this manga/series of doujins, so of course he had to get it, this is an important otaku artifact! And OF COURSE it’s paper, that’s the whole point! Even if it’s smutty, it’s art!

Ortho could start getting into BL himself; he would start by reading this one manga that Idia owns lol Idia was sure he’d hidden it well.

The rest of the cast strike me as normies… but hey, Lilia could have some! If he has any manga at all, I can imagine him owning a BL book just ‘cause. But since he probably bought it years ago when he was traveling around the TWST equivalent of Japan, it might be a bit outdated lol And probably a little cursed, which is why Lilia got so into this book back then.

Anonymous asked:

I just think it’s cool how you’re so detailed with the characters and their personality/psychology etc. You could even explain how each of them would go skydiving and I’d think, “yeah, they would do that.” Toodles.

Thank you so much, Anon! It truly means a lot. This is one of the most fun parts of writing replies and drawings stuff, to be honest: the cast is so good that the jokes write themselves sometimes lol

If only I knew enough about skydiving to write or draw something about it…but thankfully, we have a lot of other things to do. 💪

Thank you for enjoying our stuff, I am very happy to hear that.

Anonymous asked:

That's just fucking wrong. Jade is EXTREMELY well behaved for a Leech. "ill behaved" my ASS!!!

+Anonymous asked:

TO BE CLEAR IM JOKING JADE IS A FUCKING FREAK MENACE

LOL YOU’RE GOOD ANON, no worries! <3

“For a Leech”!!! Exactly! Which means he isn’t well-behaved at all!

Anonymous asked:

my guy, my friend,, my buddy,,,,

a hetalia mention? in 2024? why would you do this to us? 😭

Anon dear… Hetalia is a party that is never over 🥳🥳🥳 It forced itself into our lives in 2009 and has been there ever since.

In all seriousness, we do come back to it from time to time; some of the drawings that we have for it are pretty recent!

#replies

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escapedaudios · 4 months

Text

Agent Ursula Schäfer in Der Wolfsjäger is canonically 32. I picked her age for a few reasons:

1) I wanted her to have history, experience and authority

2) I wanted to give her a canon age so people didn't self insert their own real-life age when the Jäger, the love interest, is 36. I want to characterize her more and let the listeners use their imagination to see the story through her eyes, not their own.

3) A lot of media with mostly female audiences does this weird thing where they take a female lead with clearly adult personality traits, skillsets, backstory, and responsibilities, then canonically make them teenagers for some goddamn reason and I high-key hate this trope. There are tons of women older than the YA demographic who favor reading and enjoying YA novels over "adult" novels and I sincerely think there's just a shortage of fun adventurous romantic stories featuring them over the age of like 23 and I think that's just so tiresome.

4) A lot of audio roleplays are set in schools, where the characters the listeners roleplay as would explicitly be younger than (most of) their real-life selves. The reverse almost never happens. I don't like the implication that you can't see yourself having an exciting, fun, and romantic adventure if you're over the age of like 25. Most of my listeners are in their early to mid 20s, but I want them to be able to imagine an older version of themselves that's still exciting, capable, desired romantically, and experiencing new things.

5) My channel is for adults. It's fine if teenagers listen to it and there's no NSFW content in it or anything, but I'm targeting adult listeners because I want an audience that appreciates more mature and complex storytelling.

6) I want to cater to my 30+ audience. There are a fucking billion school bully roleplays and anime-high school channels with MHA characters catering to teenagers, but basically nothing for listeners (especially in M4F) who are explicitly 30+. I might be an outlier here but according to my analytics, only ~9% of my audience is under 18. People seem to think audio roleplay is more popular with high school-aged teens than it actually is and less popular with older adults than it actually is. I actually have more listeners over 35 than under 18.

7) I want to bring my content to more people, and I want it to be something that they aren't embarrassed about. I'm sick to death of people talking about audio RP like it's this embarrassing thing for lonely people that you should be ashamed to listen to. I want it to be unique and exciting and cool as fuck and I want to make characters and settings that a fully mature adult would want to share with their friends and talk about openly and not secretly ashamed of and I do in fact think that having more mature characters helps with that.

8) I'm doing it for myself. Besides Ivan (a 33 year old divorced dad) and Jäger (a 36 year old with a long history), I have future concepts for characters that are older than my real-life self because I want to also picture my future self as interesting and desirable, and not see aging as something to dread. I kind of tested the waters with this long ago, where I made Basher 48 and Benji 42, albeit in the bodies of their early-20s selves to make it more palatable. I wanted to play characters older than myself from the beginning.

9) I want to give the listener characters some character. Building everything around being perfectly suited for self-insert is constraining and literally so boring. By making something fit everyone, you leave the listener with nothing. There's a few things I leave open to interpretation for inclusivity (ex: the ethnicity of the Listener character) but I want to start giving more of my characters a canon age, canon backstory, and more for the sake of contextualizing their place in the story.

10) I want my 30+ love-interest characters to just be themselves so that I can write love stories without also having to account for the the possibility of my more mature characters being interpreted as a "DILF" or the subject of some kind of taboo age gap fetish. I want it to be clear that they see each other as equals from the start.

Anyway, long ramble over. I wanna make more mature characters and I have a lot of thoughts about it.

#writing #rant #YA novels #escaped audios #der wolfsjäger #audio roleplay #aging

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evilhasnever · 10 months

Text

Time for a wedding, set in the same reincarnation AU as this and this ficlet by me and this (by @lansplaining)! Btw, I have collected all previous parts in a series on Ao3 for ease of reading: Memory Lane (get it?)

A few people wanted to see what would happen if JGY recovered his memories, which means there is angst coming up... (this drabble turned into 3000 words, so Ao3 link if you prefer!)

For all that Lan Xichen knows his past life, he cannot tell the future. And the future seems dead set on tripping him up, as if holding a grudge in order to counterbalance whatever advantage his past memories may give him.

That is to say, Meng Yao disappears the morning they are supposed to get married.

It was not meant to be a big affair, but even a small modern ceremony ends up being a complex production when overzealous friends and overly-traditional relatives are involved. Lan Huan and Meng Yao had agreed to go to the venue separately, both to appease the loudest aunties and to build up some excitement for their own reunion as husbands. This means Lan Huan has slept at Wangji’s place for the past two days, leaving Meng Yao alone in the apartment they share, and has forced himself not to text him constantly over the past forty-eight hours.

At 10 in the morning on the day of the ceremony, Lan Huan is sweating in his tux on the way to the venue, driven by Wangji; he’s fruitlessly trying to meditate to keep calm, but he can’t quite stamp down his eagerness. For once his nerves are of the positive, tickling variety reserved for happy occasions - he doesn’t expect anything to go wrong today, considering A-Yao planned everything.

He should have known better.

When they are ten minutes away, Lan Huan’s cell phone rings, spooking both brothers out of their meditative silence. It’s Meng Shi, calling from the reception hall. It sounds like she has a hand on the receiver so as not to be overheard.

"A-Huan, A-Yao is not here."

Lan Xichen blanches. “He is what…?”

“He is not here. He is always here first, heavens knows he would be checking every single napkin even on his own wedding day, but today…”

“ I’m sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this. Didn’t you go the venue together?”

“No, he called me a taxi. He said he had an errand to run, but that was two hours ago and he is not answering his phone. He always tells me where he is, A-Huan, and now…!”

“Perhaps he is just late,” Lan Xichen murmurs, his pulse already picking up speed because the very idea is absurd. “What kind of errand? The cake? A-Yao is always very particular about catering…”

“He didn’t say. A-Huan, did something happen?”

“Not that I know of, but I didn’t see him yesterday, we wanted to play up the anticipation a little…” Lan Huan admits. “Did you see him for dinner last night?”

“Yes, I did… A-Yao said he wasn’t feeling well, but I thought it was just nerves,” Meng Shi carefully says, and Lan Huan can almost imagine her pursing her lips. “He said he ran out on his own stag party. I didn’t think much of it, A-Yao has never liked surprise parties.”

Lan Xichen’s brow furrows. “I’ll make some calls. Please wait there, and call me if he arrives.”

He tries A-Yao’s number, but it goes straight to voicemail. He leaves a quick message, just to be safe: “A-Yao, are you ok? I’m almost at the venue. Let me know if something happened, alright? I love you.”

Carefully ignoring Wangji’s glance in the rear view mirror, he shoots a text to Mingjue and another to Jin Zixuan, asking if A-Yao is coming with them by any chance. Huaisang calls him back from his brother’s phone immediately. “Xichen-ge, did you lose your fiance?”

“Miscommunication,” Lan Xichen replies tightly. “What happened at the stag party, Huaisang?”

“Ayo, I don’t know anything! Xuanyu and I put him in the car and he freaked out as if we were some gangsters coming for his family. He was absolutely no fun the whole evening, after I prepared all the decorations and even the stripper–I mean, the entertainment!”

Lan Xichen pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling the grasping hands of a migraine growing in the back of his skull. “We will discuss this at a later time, Huaisang. Did A-Yao do or say anything strange at the party?”

“He hardly said anything at all, and then he just up and left when we tried to put a veil on him for the photos! Total spoilsport. Did he get cold feet?”

“He is late.”

Huaisang gasps in horror.

“I just want to make sure he is safe. Do you know where he was yesterday afternoon, before you kidnapped him?”

“I resent that wording! Anyway, I think he went to pick up his wedding tux with Jin Zixuan. Trying to be a good brother wa—y too late if you ask me.”

“Alright, thanks. See you at the reception, Huaisang.”

“Is it… still on? Just wondering if I need to get dressed.”

“I’d appreciate yours and your brother’s presence either way,” Lan Xichen says, wryly.

“'mkay, ge. Best of luck.”

When they reach the wedding venue, they are momentarily intercepted by Shufu - Lan Xichen smiles and dodges him, ear glued to his phone as Wangji shadows him to the waiting room and locks the door.

When they are alone, Lan Huan turns to his brother. “Wangji. A-Yao should already be here, but I can’t track him down.”

Wangji’s gaze hardens imperceptibly, and Lan Xichen takes a deep breath and lifts his hands in a pacifying gesture. “I am worried about him. His mother doesn’t know where he is either.”

“Why would he flee?” Wangji asks.

“We should not jump to conclusions,” Lan Xichen cautions, “He… he should have no reason to do so.”

“The reasons may be unrelated to the past,” Wangji offers, after a thoughtful moment. “Car accident, panic attack.”

“Alright, let’s… one thing at a time,” Lan Huan chuckles nervously, trying to push down the bubble of fear growing in his stomach.

For the next few minutes, they both busy themselves calling local hospitals. Thankfully, nobody that looks like A-Yao has been taken to any of the city ERs this morning. Lan Xichen exhales, then dials A-Yao’s number again, letting it ring off the hook.

When it goes to voicemail again, he decides to try his luck and call Jin Zixuan’s number, which he has only because he is very thorough and always prepared for emergencies - or so he thought, at any rate.

“Ah, Lan Xichen,” Zixuan answers on the third ring. “Are you calling to tell me not to come to the wedding? Because A-Li and I are almost there! I already left several apologies on A-Yao’s answering machine, but I don’t know how my brother’s mind works…”

“Why would you apologize?” Lan Xichen asks, suddenly alert. “Did something happen yesterday?”

“It was odd,” Zixuan grunts, and there are background baby noises for a short while - Lan Xichen holds his breath until Zixuan resumes speaking. “One moment he was all dimples, then when he tried on his wedding tux he stopped dead and looked like he’d short-circuited. Stuck like a mannequin. I’ve never seen him not frenetic, which is why I asked him if he perhaps didn’t like the suit? Told him if we paid extra we could get him another one in time for the wedding, though it would not be custom-made… he wasn’t listening at all, just doing this wide-eyed face in the mirror. I had told him that white was not his color, but the reaction seemed extreme!”

“Zixuan, I need to know exactly what he said. Word for word, if you could be so kind.”

Another long sigh, more baby noises. “Well. I forgive him, because god knows I was panicking the day before my wedding, but–he said I should be dead.”

Oh .

“I have to go,” Lan Xichen whispers, and hangs up.

He turns swiftly to his brother. “Wangji. I need you to ask your boyfriend to track A-Yao’s phone, stat.”

Wangji’s eyebrows rise in unadulterated shock, but to his credit he doesn't deny that Wei Wuxian can absolutely do that.

“I… I don’t know where he would go,” Lan Huan admits. “Not in this life.” Where would he run? The uncertainty makes him feel unmoored, like he’s being pulled down by a turbulent sea and can’t keep himself afloat. “I think it’s a... memory emergency.”

“I will ask Wei Ying.”

It takes what feels like an eternity, though in truth Lan Xichen is aware that Wei Wuxian accomplishes the task in a criminally speedy manner, and without asking any questions. Not while he’s in earshot, anyway.

“I sent you the last known location,” Wei Wuxian shrugs at last, “but I dunno if he still has the phone on him or he dumped it.”

“Thank you, Wei Wuxian. Wangji… can I take your car?”

“Mn.” For a moment, Lan Huan can see his brother wants to offer to go with him, so he shakes his head in silence. Wangji hands over the keys and squints at him. “Brother… remember the rule.”

“I know. The past is not the present. The present is not the future. I know, Wangji.”

“Sooo… what do we do with the wedding?" Wei Wuxian interjects, apparently not grasping the gravity of the situation. "We have the venue booked until 2pm but I’m sure they have people lined up for later…”

“I’m sure you’ll think of some way to buy time,” Lan Xichen smiles tightly. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way back.”

“Did you hear that, Lan er-gege? We gotta think of a distraction~ you got any ideas?”

Lan Xichen is out of the door and behind the wheel as fast as he can be. He keeps an eye on his phone, but the only updates he gets are from Meng Shi saying A-Yao isn’t there yet, and Shufu reminding him of the schedule and cancellation fees.

He tracks down the coordinates to an off-season beach two hours south, a straight line from the city. There’s a parking lot nearby, but it’s empty - A-Yao doesn’t have a car. He pictures him telling an Uber driver to just drive until he tells him to stop, and his heart aches. Still, some irrational hope nestles inside him, whispering that perhaps A-Yao hasn’t thrown away his phone yet. That he may want to be found.

Lan Xichen parks hurriedly across two spaces and hurries out to the sea, sinking in the sand with every step. He pauses to kick off his dress shoes, then resumes running down the seashore. With immense relief, he spots A-Yao, a tiny white-clad figure in the distance, a few hundred meters down the desolate stretch of sea.

Is it embedded somewhere in A-Yao’s soul to run away to the sea, despite knowing that in this life he cannot swim?

“A-Yao!” he calls out, waving his arms clumsily. There is absolutely nobody else out in January, no umbrellas and no chairs, so A-Yao will certainly see him coming from afar - no point making his approach cautious. Lan Xichen had half expected A-Yao to turn tail and make him chase him, but miraculously he does not.

“A-Yao,” he gasps again when he catches up to him, tugging at his collar. “Are you alright, A-Yao?”

His A-Yao turns, dark-rimmed eyes and windswept hair, terse like a winter morning. He’s undone his bowtie and popped a few buttons at his collar, the tuxedo jacket thrown over his shoulder.

“The last time I saw you, you would not call me that anymore,” Jin Guangyao says, his voice raspy from the wind.

“You saw me yesterday morning, A-Yao,” Lan Huan soothes, stepping towards him with his hand outstretched.

“Right.” A-Yao chuckles humorlessly, and draws a circle in the sand with a naked foot. The hem of his pants is caked in wet sand, but he does not seem to mind. “I meant… before.”

He looks down, a strange smile on his face, then takes off his engagement ring and holds it out towards Lan Xichen, without looking up at him. “I should return this.”

Despite the fear gripping his heart, Lan Huan shakes his head firmly. “It’s yours. You don't have to keep it, but I don’t want it back.”

A-Yao’s hand lowers, a little hesitantly. Then his razorblade gaze snaps up and pierces Lan Xichen where he stands. “Er-ge. Can you tell me why every wedding of mine comes with a side of lies?”

Lan Xichen stands to attention. “I never lied to you, A-Yao.”

“You never told me you remembered the past.” It is not a question, so Lan Xichen does not treat it as such.

“Would you have wanted to know?” he asks instead.

A-Yao doesn’t reply for a moment, gaze returning to the gray wintry sea. “What I don’t understand,” he says to the waves, “is why you sought me out, if you remembered.”

“A-Yao... Even if we’d been complete strangers, I would still have fallen for you. But all the more because I remembered you, how could I not seek you out?” Lan Xichen frowns at his poor wording; he had prepared this speech a million times, but now it scatters like sand in the breeze. “My family has a rule against approaching people from the past, did you know? But A-Yao… what do I have these memories for, if not to find you?”

A-Yao’s gaze drops to the sand at his feet, the cold waves lapping at his ankles. “Even after everything?”

Lan Xichen closes his eyes briefly. He’s had a lot of time to think about this. “I’m here, aren’t I?’

The reply seems to strike true. A-Yao looks taken aback, but Lan Xichen dares to hope it's a good kind of surprise. Like that time he surprised A-Yao at the airport with flowers, or the time he offered to teach him to play the qin. He hazards another step closer to him, a mere arm’s length from A-Yao. He aches to touch him, but he can’t. Not yet.

“Mother’s treatment,” A-Yao says abruptly. “Tell me straight.”

“Yes,” Lan Xichen inclines his head. “You and I hadn’t met yet, so I asked a friend to make an anonymous donation in my place.”

A-Yao purses his lips. “I suppose I must thank you.”

“I didn't do it to earn your thanks,” Lan Xichen sighs. “Knowing and not acting would have been unthinkable, that is all.”

“Still, thank you. My mother is… she is everything.” A-Yao looks younger, vulnerable for the space of a breath.

Lan Xichen smiles. “I care for her too. Your mother is wonderful.”

A-Yao almost smiles at that, but it fades before it can reach the top half of his face, his eyes narrowing again in scrutiny.

“You introduced me to Qin Su at June’s charity luncheon. Did you invite her?”

Lan Xichen swallows, painfully. “I did not invite her, but she was there.” He bites his lip. “I looked into it. You are… not related, in this life.”

A-Yao makes a little ‘hah’ sound, as swift as paper ripping. “I’m happy for her. But why did you go out of your way to introduce her to me? You and I had just started dating.”

All Lan Huan can do is shrug, his shoulders stiff and frozen in the confines of his tuxedo. “Tempting fate, I suppose.”

“Still unfailingly selfless,” A-Yao hums, and it is a little too dry to feel like praise.

They look at a pair of seagulls chasing each other among cacophonous screams. They sound particularly shrill, drawing playful circles in the air and around each other.

“It is selfishness,” Lan Xichen eventually admits. “I just wanted to make sure that… I just wanted to make sure.”

A-Yao shakes his head with a small exhale, barely a chuckle. He drops his jacket on the sand and lifts both arms to cup Lan Xichen’s jaw, pulling him slightly closer. His fingers are frozen cold, his eyes dark and serious, with an intensity that halts Lan Xichen’s breath halfway up his throat.

“Lan Xichen, Lan Xichen... in a world in which I can marry you, how could I ever not?” The words, carefully enunciated, hit Lan Xichen’s chilled face in small, warm puffs of breath. A-Yao is not smiling, and that, for some reason, puts Lan Huan’s heart at ease. It gives his words the resonance of unfailing truth, a timeless verdict.

“We still could,” he hopefully offers. “Well, if Wei Wuxian managed to stall enough.”

A-Yao snorts softly, then shakes his head. “Not now. I think… I need to get away.”

He surely notices the sheer horror on Lan Xichen’s face, because his brows knit together in an apologetic squint. “Not forever, gege. Just for a little while, to get my head in order.”

Lan Xichen folds his arms behind his back, and leans into A-Yao’s hands cupping his jaw. “We still have the honeymoon to Japan booked for tomorrow…”

A-Yao chuckles, breathless and disbelieving. Then his dark, half-lidded eyes scan Lan Xichen’s face, considering. “...You’d come?”

“Unquestioningly,” Lan Xichen says. “Right now, if you wanted to.”

“With no luggage?”

“I don’t need anything.”

The answer seems to please A-Yao, because his smile turns a shade more secretive, lashes lowering on his cheeks.

Still, he hedges, thumb tracing Lan Xichen’s chin in direct contradiction with his words. “Er-ge… I can’t ask you to…”

“You need not to ask,” Lan Xichen smiles, eager, desperate to give away his heart. “If we drive to the airport now, we can catch an earlier flight. I’ll call on the way there.”

“A honeymoon while we are still not married,” A-Yao smirks. “What would your shufu say?”

Lan Xichen grins at him with infinite tenderness. “We can marry anytime, but we can only elope once.”

A little skittish, A-Yao puts his hand in his nonetheless, tugging him along as they amble towards the parking lot. They shake the sand off their pants, exchanging half smiles at the state of their attire. They spend an awkward minute tracking down their discared shoes.

When they’re safely in the car, Lan Xichen offers his smartphone to him. “I’m all for eloping, but call your mother and Wangji to make sure they don’t worry, will you?”

A-Yao brushes Lan Xichen’s knuckles delicately before taking his phone from him, and laughs. It’s small, but as wonderful as the first time.

#shiome fic #xiyao #lan xichen #jin guangyao #meng yao #leaving lan xichen at the altar.doc #xiyao drabbles #“drabble” does not really apply anymore but bear with me #angst #happy ending though!

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letterstoear · 6 months

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Cater's changing feelings~ a letter from him

Notes: A letter from Cater where he talks about his thoughts on love, bittersweet, fluff, Cater x reader, romantic. I actually wrote this after writing my other fic called His eyes.

You can read that one here: 2 Lines & A Circle : His Eyes (tumblr.com)

Oh, and if you want you can get your own letter from my shop here:

Twisted Wonderland Letter package

_________,

Hello!!! How have you been! I’ve been seeing you pass by our dorm a lot these days, what brings you here? Just kidding, I know the reason. You’re interested in our adorable hedgehogs, aren’t you? I totally get you, they're perfect for photos and they’re quite popular with students. Oh, something tells me you’re frowning already, I get ya, you weren’t here for our hedgehogs, were you?

Tell me, was it our flamingos? I know they’re brightly colored and you can’t find them anywhere. Since your dorm doesn’t have any animals, I understand why you would want to see them up close. Just be careful not to come on the days when we wear pink… I’m only joking. I know why you’ve been coming to Heartslabyul for. It’s probably the same reason why you’re reading this letter aren’t you. You’re waiting for my response.

To be perfectly honest, I’ve never really liked sweets, deep connections, or you. People who act all nice and friendly, people who say forever, all of them are liars. You’re no different from them, getting close to me and wanting to see who I truly am, what a lie. Or so I thought. In the end I’m still naive and wanted to trust someone, so I chose to trust you. I probably was just intrigued as to how you saw right through me. I always believed no one saw how alone I was if I kept a smile on my face, but you saw through my eyes. I guess it’s true then, eyes really don’t lie.

The more we hung out the more I felt myself change. My clouded thoughts of being alone weren’t as present as before. I saw for the first time how I had the choice of staying with someone. It wasn’t just you that I could stay besides, there were so many people I could stand with. Thanks for teaching me that.

Which reminds me, you said that I had gotten too used to being alone and my surface level connections. I think you’re right; I don’t know anything about deep connections. After all, what's the point when they’re going to be gone sooner or later. Well, now I know that’s exactly how I lose people. If I want something to last, I gotta ask lots and lots of questions with no hesitations. Plus, I gotta make it clear to them, isn’t that what you scolded me about the other day.

__, I’ll tell you now, I want to stay with you. Sorry, I guess you had to read so much only to get your answer now. It’s gonna take me a minute, but I could get used to this. I like hanging out with you and there’s still a lot more I could learn from you. Your little happy dances, your determined eyes, and your unclouded thoughts I like them all. You already know so much about me, but I want to know more about you. I want to know how you came to find me. I want to know what makes you behave the way you do. Say, can I know those parts about you?

For once, I’ve found someplace to stay. Even if I were to move, my heart will stay with you. I’m going to make the effort to rely on you and everyone around me. I’m looking forward to the day I can tell you, I’m confident in my relationships. Until then will you stay beside me till that day and maybe even afterwards? ______, I can’t believe this, but I don’t just like you, I’m starting to love you for real. I accept your feelings towards me, will you accept me one more time?

From,

Cater Diamond

P.S I’ll be waiting for you at the white gazebo.

#twst #wow that was long #twisted wonderland #cater x reader #cater diamond #heartslabyul #heartslaybul x reader #fluff #angst #it's really a mix of both

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blouisparadise · 1 year

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Upon request, here is a rec list of bottom Louis fics where Louis wears a collar. If you enjoy our rec lists and want them to continue being made, please show support by liking and reblogging them! Happy reading!

1) Wild And Exciting (I’m Breaking You Down) | Explicit | 2200 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

The tug and pull of the collar around his neck has him gasping for air but he's so hard under the knickers, and Harry's rubbing soothing circles into the soft give of his hip while murmuring praise and he really, really doesn't want to disappoint him.

2) Jingle Bell Time Is A Swell Time | Explicit | 2543 words

Harry gives Louis a present for his birthday and it includes jingle bell panties, a cat ear headband, a collar with a bell, red stilletos. Louis makes good use of them.

3) You're Like A Little Kitten. | Explicit | 2891 words

A one shot in which Harry is feeling a bit overwhelmed with everything and Louis's got a thing for butt plugs with cat tails attached and Harry's oversized sweaters. Louis always helps Harry out, doesn't he?

4) White Collar Worker | Explicit | 6051 words

Harry Styles - uncompassionate and single head of the company.

Louis Tomlinson - just a worker from the staff department. Nothing extraordinary except one thing: Louis has a hopeless crush on Harry. And of course he'll be given a wonderful chance to invite his boss to his house 'for a cup of tea'.

5) Your Silhouette Over Me | Explicit | 6823 words

“Alright don’t forget the mission, get Louis laid,” Louis shouted over the music.

“Don’t know who Louis is, but I support it.”

Louis turned towards the contributing voice and saw the bartender leaning in front of him, his elbows resting against the lip of the bar. He had brown hair that fell in loose curls just above his collar bones which were perfectly on show due to the fact that his shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his abdomen. The shirt’s sleeves were cuffed up along his inked bicep and the pattern was something that Louis would expect a dad on vacation to wear, not a young bartender.

“He’s Louis,” Zayn said, jutting his thumb in Louis’ direction.

The bartender nodded approvingly, “then I definitely support it.”

6) Funhouse | Explicit | 13037 words

The ‘Funhouse’ is an establishment that caters to boys with pussies and those that desire the opportunity to use and humiliate them.

The boy in question is blindfolded, unable to see the identity of the strangers taking pleasure from him. However, there is the option to remove the blindfold and officially meet after the session.

Louis has only offered himself up to the Funhouse several times before and the experience never left him particularly satisfied.

He decides to give the Funhouse a final try, opting for a session with a single stranger rather than a group. He decides that he will meet with the stranger afterwards just as long as the sex happens to be good. After all, what harm can it do to officially meet the stranger? It’s not like he’ll actually know the person who touches him… right?

7) Promise Me You Won't Run Away | Explicit | 23128 words

“Does kissing me stop you from having bad thoughts?” Harry asked, voice muffled into the collar of Louis’ dress shirt. Louis chuckled at this. He trailed a hand down Harry’s back, feeling the muscles tensing along with his touch.

“I guess you can say that. You’re a good distraction.”

“Then I will be the best distraction.” Harry answered, pulling back and watched Louis’ lips unashamedly.

“Come distract me, then.”

8) Hit Me With Your Sweet Love | Explicit | 39690 words

Powerful people only end up with powerful people. The rest are just playthings in their lives. Louis Tomlinson was many things, but he wasn’t anybody’s plaything.

9) Dark Doom, Honey | Explicit | 57801 words

Louis lifted one shoulder, lips slightly pursed. “You are acting like an asshole.”

Harry’s mouth pressed into a thin line, eyebrows knitting together. “I wasn’t being an asshole, I was following my own rules. The ones I always follow when I’m about to start an arrangement with a new submissive. If you don’t want this or are having doubts, we should stop now. But if we do this, I do want to make something clear, I’ll never do anything you don’t want to, but you have to be aware that I’ll never be sweet, I don’t do sweet, you already saw what I do. If you want something different you can go on dates, this is not that. Are we clear?”

It was the perfect way out. Louis could simply say no and their lives would keep on going as they were. So far, nothing was changed beyond repair. But he wanted to be. At some point in his life, way before Harry and the betrayals, Louis lost a little of himself, and had never felt closer to getting it back than in Lair, with Harry.

“Crystal.”

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #fic recs #blp #blp fic recs #collars #dom/sub

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catharsis-in-a-bottle · 5 months

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what does tillie walden do?

i don't know.

i just finished 'are you listening?' and it left me with the same exact unidentifiable shrimp emotion that this beautiful author bestowed upon me with on a sunbeam and the end of summer. i want to curl up in a blanket and cry. i want to draw. i don't even know what this book has done to me. i want to know how tillie walden captures something [this unidentifiable but very present feeling] that no other work of art has captured for me.

are you listening? follows two women through their road trip through western texas, both traumatized and both hurting. one older and more experienced, one freshly eighteen and emotionally raw from years of sexual abuse. the road trip is the story's through line - they find a cat and the landscape begins to shift, becoming more indistinct and unreal as they travel further - but the body of the story is the characters themselves. i think the thing that gets me overall is that the characters don't mark the strangeness of the shifting landscape until well after it begins. even then, it isn't their main focus - they focus on the rawness of their pain and the friendship they find in each other. what does this do? it captures the experience of deep emotional pain, the experience wherein the world doesn't feel real - the world is already warped into darkness in your vision. the true landscape change thus becomes irrelevant to the characters - it's a product of pain. it's just how they see the world. absorption in one's thoughts makes any external weirdness perfectly possible.

to add to all of this, both the characters are gay, a fact that tillie walden so beautifully incorporates into their personalities and experiences. the warping of the world sees strangers - men in particular - become shadows, silhouettes, looming figures defined only by too-large, colorful eyes. (i think this reflects the common queer experience of not knowing who can be trusted with the knowledge of our identities. and personally, i know that when i'm in a shitty mood and am overthinking my own identity, the surrounding world begins to feel like a bunch of untrustworthy strangers.)

the landscape itself also adds to the deep isolation of this graphic novel. yes, the characters are alone on a road trip with only a cat to keep them company, but the surrounding world is also huge and foreign and unreal. they are alone with each other. to me, their own pain and this isolation compound each other; i felt myself slipping further into walden's constructed darkness as i read.

and at the end, there's hope. the world is dark and that darkness is inescapable, and then at the end of it all, the characters continue on with their lives, changed for the better.

IT MAKES ME INSANE.

tillie walden did the same thing with on a sunbeam. a group of space travelers isolated on their ship, exploring strange buildings and ultimately venturing into a strange, unknowable landscape (The Staircase). a group of travelers bonded by pain. a group of queer travelers bonded by their love for one another. a world that is fundamentally built upon queerness - upon lesbians, upon trans people. i think the recipe is ultimately similar to are you listening? pain + isolation + queerness + found family = a reader response of despair, catharsis, hope, tears.

perhaps my own response stems from the fact that on the deepest level, i most relate to the struggles of butch lesbians, if i am being entirely real with myself. what does tillie walden do? she knocks it out of the fucking park and writes a type of very real-feeling queer darkness that caters to me specifically. (chomp chomp.) but apart from my own shrimp emotions, she's also just a really fucking good storyteller. a brilliant artist, a brilliant character creator, a brilliant writer. and her graphic novels are really fucking brilliant books.

#tillie walden #are you listening?#on a sunbeam #the end of summer #graphic novels #i NEEDED to write this train of thought tumblr book review.

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kristsune · 1 year

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So I had this idea a while ago, to do little reviews for all of Tim Meredith’s songs because I feel like there isn’t enough love out there for them. So last week I decided to just Do It. I finished (including the two new songs he just dropped yesterday) I have it here under a readmore, or if you would prefer, you can just read the gdoc here, I only did the songs that were listed on his bandcamp (which you should absolutely go to) even though there are a few extra early ones on his youtube. These were written in no particular order, basically whichever song I happened to click on next. Anyway, feel free to read and spread the word.

How to even describe Tim Meredith’s music. The way he can adapt to different styles and genres is honestly impressive. It’s probably got something to do with the improv background but it’s amazing how he can just … choose a style and write an incredible song for it. Everytime he drops a new song I am always impressed with what he has managed yet again.

Disclaimer: I don’t have any musical education except being friends with multiple musicians for many years in which only small amounts of information have managed to seep into my adhd addled brain. So I apologize for the lack of musically correct terminology, this is a work of appreciation, not technical prowess. Also lyrics are generally the last thing I hear, so I may mention them here and there, but they aren’t my main focus for this.

Always Here

I can’t quite express what it is about this song that I adore, but it absolutely has something to do with the deep rumble of the bass and the way it drives the song forward relentlessly. The effect on the vocals only adds to this. The fact that it goes minor definitely caters to my tastes specifically. The high tones that come in during the bridge have such a Bowie quality that is delightful and a perfect contrast to the rest of the song. (artwork: the mossy greenery adds such a vibe to the song)

Don’t Look to Me

This has been one of my favorites since it aired. The high vocals of the chorus, with the overlapping harmonies are beautifully done and how they are placed over each other makes me think of something being sung in a large hall or church, big and echoey. Additionally the offset of the lyrics “it’s what you chose” (and to a lesser degree “any other way”) makes it feel like you’re being surrounded, like its multiple people telling you this is what you chose, what you wanted. I adore how the vocals trail out with the music at the end. (artwork: the hot pink neon feels so right for the feeling, the tiles adding to the echo)

Sweaty (Near You)

I know this one was controversial at the release, but I honestly could not then, and still cannot understand why. People are honestly sleeping on this song and it makes no sense to me. It’s got a very sensual vibe without gendered lyrics. Sure “baby” is used, but if you don’t think baby could be used for any gender then that’s on you, not the song. The deep base with the sparse instrumentation with a fun noodly solo is just an excellent combination that works so incredibly well. (artwork: the b&w photo with dark maroon text is a perfect combination)

Lucky Boy

When this song premiered my first thought was the entrance song for a villain in a movie. I could see it so clearly in my head. It’s got drive, and movement, and attitude the way it kicks up into high gear into the chorus from the verse with that fuzz guitar. The incredible layers with all the different synth/organ sounds, paints such an image. Nevermind the vocals that fit so perfectly within all that. (artwork: The maneki-neko is such a perfect choice for this)

Numbers and Lights

This is another one I have difficulty describing quite what it is that I love about it. It’s rather lowkey all the way through and I rather enjoy the… almost the stops and starts, the way it gives pause before kicking back in, like the song needs to take a breath before moving on. Again, pretty sure this one turns minor in a way that caters directly to me. Small detail that really delights me is what sounds like the equivalent to crickets under the “Reid asks Reid tells”. (artwork: gotta love biflag color rep. always a plus)

Limb Controller

This song features Amy and was an early favorite of mine. It feels like a song that could and should be played at a disco, just making me want to dance. The synths are perfect and I love how they gain intensity in the bridge before coming back down for the verse. The contrast between Amy’s higher vocals to Tim’s rougher growly ones is a perfect combination. I’ve always loved the “I’ve already let him in, a puppet on his string” moment. (artwork: when videos were still being made, love the scifi vibes)

Never Loved

Another song that is a bit more lowkey, but still comes through with excellent vibes. This one is really all about the syncopation especially with the drums. Which includes the panning back and forth during certain portions, but especially during the time change. I also really love the effects on the vocals. The occasional splashes of a high stringed instrument, and the crash of a forward cymbal really just add to the atmosphere of the song. (arwork: something about being called never loved with what looks like kintsugi just kinda Hits)

Love Your Mind

The repeating pattern throughout this song is just So Good, I love everything about it, and then how other patterns build on top of it? Impeccable. There are so many layers but it's never too much or loses track of itself, never feels over complicated or discordant. I always end up tapping along to the pattern, sometimes difficult to choose which one to follow. This song is shorter, but never fails to make me smile. (artwork: love the chandelier with the many intricate patterns, feels like it matches the song perfectly in that way)

On Your Terms

Oh that bass line. *chef kiss* Absolutely the backbone of the song, helps create the perfect atmosphere for that distorted guitar. Tim always puts a lot into the vocals, but here it feels like there is a extra level of emotion that feels raw. The way the note is held for “on your terms” just kind of kicks me in the chest every time. (artwork: love that the fire is the only color)

Some Thoughts After Consideration

This song truly resonates with me on a molecular level. I have been working in retail for going on 18 years and I just feel this song in the depths of my soul. Something about the wobbly synths and strong beat with the soft vocals are just perfect. The transition to what almost feels like a … big musical number in a theatrical show for the chorus. Like I can just see big spot lights turning on the stage. Perfection. (artwork: can’t go wrong with a squawking seagull, theme on point)

Falling Away

This is another one of my favorites. It’s so soft and gentle, lilting piano blending so perfectly with the vocals, which build up in intensity for the chorus so beautifully. Again, I think this one turns minor key, though I’m not as sure about it as I am with the others. I don’t have a lot of words for this one, but it’s lovely in its simplicity. (artwork: always loved this one for no reason I can really define)

Regret Me Not

I love how this song starts off sounding like something like a medieval march. The most prominent thing about this song is of course those incredible harmonies all throughout. The whole initial build up, and how it switches halfway through is just incredible. There is so much depth in this short song. I don’t always pay attention to lyrics, but when I did look at them I was surprised and delighted by how uplifting they are. (artwork: another older one with a video. I am a sucker for nature anything, and this just being a series of nature shots particularly appealed to me)

Pacesetter

The deep rumbly bass paired with the panning distorted vocals is just an incredible driving force. This song has the kind of beat that will just go on forever. If it were a predator it would be a komodo dragon just relentlessly following behind, never losing sight, always there stalking forward. (artwork: the starting line for a racetrack is an excellent choice)

The Aftermath

This was another early favorite of mine. The mandolin is the star of this song, but it is surrounded by a wonderful arrangement that allows it to be so. The gentle piano with the soft vocals, the shakers and woodblocks all come together beautifully. I always adored the extended pause about ⅔ of the way through. (artwork: this is my favorite video, and I’m sure it took a lot of work to match all the timing so well. The way it ends with the snuffing of the candle 10/10 no notes)

Arcadia

The light bouncy acoustic guitar is so catchy paired with the light and airy vocals, just makes for a lovely song all around. Truly impressive that so much can be expressed with so few instruments. I always find myself nodding my head along to this one. (artwork: makes me think of marshmallow and then want something sweet, but then I remember it’s a rock face and then that makes me want to climb it. Too bad it wasn’t a marshmallow clifface)

Deep Air

This is one of those songs that I love because it’s so out of the usual wheelhouse. It’s chill and wonderfully lowkey, and truly does make you feel like you are just floating around in space. The NASA audio certainly only adds to that vibe. Even with all that I do really love how it still slowly builds towards a big end. (artwork: excellent space vibes, love it)

A Horrid Angry Goose

I remember the goose game stream quite fondly, and this song in response to that was an absolute delight. It’s a fun and funny song, but it also has genuinely fantastic harmonies, and a strong baseline. The build up in each verse into the chorus is just so good. I love how it tells the story of the game, but in such a delightful way. This song is a guaranteed mood boost and I’m so glad for it. (artwork: Goosey perfection)

What It Says About Me

Adore the intro to this, the panning on the string instrument is perfect, and then when the beat drops and everything just drives on. Again, the way the vocals harmonize is impeccable. Truly impressive. Also adore the almost call and response at about halfway through. (artwork: something about the rusted half visible ship feels sad, though I suppose it’s apt for the song)

Unremarkable Sin

The alternating rhythms for this are just so incredibly good, the way it starts and the way it changes when the drums kick in, giving it a bit of swing that is just really great. I really love the gentle vocals for this as well, they fit between the instrumentation so perfectly. (artwork: i love the vague religious vibes, which somehow also translate into the music but in a not actually religious way)

What’s Due

Another one that just kicks ass right out the gate. The rising synths just gives this song such energy. The layered and overlapping synths and rhythms makes it feel like it’d fit right in at a bar or a scene in a movie (bar scene in a movie?) Again the pause about ⅔ the way through adds such drama and it’s absolutely perfect. The processing on the vocals is fantastic and the delivery only adds to the overall attitude of the song. (artwork: bull terriers are one of my favorite puppies and this one is SO cute, bonus points for bi pride colors)

Breaking

The bass line with the panning distorted guitar is such a good combination. That plus the processing on the vocals, creates such a spacious atmosphere that feels melancholy (Though I suppose the lyrics probably add to that feelings). (artwork: love a good seascape, big fan of corals and anemones, and adds to the vibe of having already “fallen”)

An Imagined Sense

Another song that just makes me want to dance, The way this one goes from just a decent beat to kicking into high gear is so good. Again with the excellent doubled vocals/extreme delay just creating such a great balance with the synths. (artwork: the video for this is extremely hypnotizing and feels like you’re being sucked into the song, which feel right)

Walk Away

The really distorted bass paired with the really light piano synth and gentle cymbals is just a really excellent combination. I really love the repetition for the chorus, plus of course the lovely harmonies make for a really lovely chill song. (artwork: Always been a fan of viewing through an opening, but the broken down interior out into the green outdoors is very pleasing.)

Exquisitely Bad

The groove that is set as soon as the song starts is just impeccable. And that groove just doesn’t stop. I love the contrast of that deeper bass with the higher synths that alternate between ears. Something about how the vocals jump up during with the chord progression is delightful. Really just a killer song. (artwork: love the dilapidated house with green font, fit right in with the Halloween premiere)

Horny for Greece

I know this started as a song from stream, but it is genuinely a fantastic song. That funky piano that gives Stevie Wonder Vibes, the niche but perfect rhymes with excellent vocals, the syncopated drums. All just add up to great vibes. (artwork: having the title cut diagonal over the broken section of sculpture is perfection)

The Eventual

Always a sucker for a song with handclaps. Mixed with the woodwind and the harmonica creates such an interesting atmosphere. There is something about the double beat on the drums that I really enjoy. I also love the strong distortion on the vocals, really pulls the room together. (artwork: took me ages to realize the picture was flipped upside down, that being said, it’s still very visually interesting)

Wretched

The slow build with the offset synths that make almost a round, the drums start and stopping before they fade and the beat truly starts is just so good. It creates such tension. I love how the synths create almost waves throughout the song, pulling it along. I also adore the effects on the vocals, just fits so perfectly with the soundscape of the rest of the song. (artwork: it took me a little bit to realize what I had been looking at, but the textures are so good. Fits with the vibes)

More Time

The hard fuzz guitar is such a strong start for this song, paired with the very rock drums is just perfect. Just has excellent classic rock vibes. I really love the depth of emotion felt in the vocals, and the low doubled vocal is a perfect extra layer you sometimes don’t even realize is there adding to it. (artwork: not sure how or why, but the fire seems to just fit perfectly for this)

Can’t Happen Here

I absolutely love the piano intro for this, it really sets the whole mood. I absolutely love the vocals for this song. The almost call and response, the harmonies, just *chef kiss* fantastic. I also really love the fuzz guitar when it kicks in. Ramps the song to a whole other level. (artwork: love the roiling clouds for this one. Yet again, fits the mood perfectly.)

Kennecott

I desperately love the percussion in this song, both the unusual patterns and the sounds used. It creates such a cool landscape for the song. And the interest doesn’t end there. The part where the sound pans quickly from left to right with the rhythm is just so incredibly good. This song is just an experience from start to finish. (artwork: I never quite figured out what this one was, an aerial shot? of the beach? My brain always just made it out to be an abstract painting but I am currently realizing that is incorrect. Still fits the vibe though, feels scattershot like the song.)

On Notice

(sidenote: I have barely listened to this one, because I tend to listen to my youtube playlist, and I found while making this that this song is only on bandcamp, so I haven’t listened to this one nearly as much as most of the others despite it being released about a year ago)

The sheer amount of Radiohead Vibes for this is absolutely incredible, and as someone who absolutely adores Radiohead, I love it. I love how the vocals come in and out, I love the almost droning instruments in the background. Additionally, on the delay on the vocals is fantastic, and I love the pause like ⅔ the way through. Excellent. (artwork: Love the b&w, looks like black marble. Great look.)

Better from Further Away

I love the simple clean (upright?) bass in the opening, with the soft drums. Again, I am a sucker for harmonies and I love them on the chorus. The juxtaposition of the very chill relaxed song, to the somewhat ridiculous (read: amazing) lyrics is very good. (artwork: Love this video, especially the close up zoom on the sheep when they are mentioned.)

Friend of Mine

I love how gentle and soft this whole song is. The piano and soft drums working so well together with the gentle lyrics. I really love it when the piano kind of goes into double time. (artwork: Love a good red sunset. Excellent.)

In The Dark

I love how this starts out with what feels like very 80’s movie synths, and then just shifts into a very chill song. Not sure why but it does give very 80’s Jim Henson vibes. Like I feel this should be in the Dark Crystal or Labyrinth or something. Maybe it’s the lovely harmonies that I can see being sung by small fuzzy puppets. Also I absolutely adore the horns throughout. Perfect 10/10. (artwork: I think 3 puppets should in fact pop out of the three holes to sing those harmonies.)

Now We’ll Never Know

This song is so very pretty. The simple bass and ringing guitar along with the gentle vocals. Yet again, the harmonies on the “oohs” are beautiful and I love them, especially paired with that gently picked guitar. (artwork: love a good dilapidated staircase. The green lettering is a perfect match.)

#tim meredith #music #my writing #please feel free to reblog

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