#truly the end of an era...... it's so tragic i feel so tragic

[monorosado]

help girl everytime i see something yoi related on my dash now i ALMOST CRY

#IM ON THE VERGE OF TEARS CONSTANTLY NOW DO NOT ASK ME ABOUT YURI ON ICE 😭😭😭😭😭 #truly the end of an era...... it's so tragic i feel so tragic #yuri on ice #i lied. i never got over it #i never recovered

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Judy Garland (Meet Me In St. Louis, A Star is Born, Summer Stock)— Judy is the GOAT when it comes to classic movie musicals. The voice of an angel who deserved so much better than she got. She can sing she can dance she can act she's a triple threat. Though she had a turbulent personal life (her treatment as a child star by the studio system makes me mad as hell like Louis b Mayer fight me ((she was made to believe that she was physically unattractive by the constant criticism of film executives who made her feel ugly and who manipulated her onscreen appearance by capping her teeth and using discs in her nose to change its shape and Mayer called her "my little hunchback" like imagine hearing that as a child and not having damage)) she always goddamn delivered on screen and in any performance she gave. She began in vaudeville performing with her sisters and was signed to MGM at 13. Starting out in supporting parts especially paired with mickey Rooney in a bunch of films (she's the best part tbh) she eventually transferred to the lead role. She is best known for her starring role in movie musicals like the iconic Wizard of Oz (somewhere over the rainbow still hits hard and is ranked the top film song of all time), meet me in St. Louis (Judy singing have your self a merry little Christmas brings tears to the eyes she is that powerful), the Harvey girls (she looks like a technicolor dream and sings a catchy af song about trains), Easter parade ( dancing and singing with Fred Astaire), for me and my gal, the pirate, and summer stock ( with pal Gene Kelly who she helped when he was starting out and he helped her when she was struggling). But she also does non- singing just as well like the clock ( her first movie where she sings no songs and is an underrated ww2 era romance), her Oscar nominated a star is born ( like the man that got away she put her whole soul in that and I have beef with the fact she lost to grace kelly ((whom I love but like still not even her best work)), and judgement at Nuremberg (a courtroom drama about the nazi war criminal trials). Outside of film she made concert appearances to record-breaking audiences, released 8 studio albums, and had her own Emmy-nominated tv series. She was the youngest (39) and first female recipient of the Cecil B DeMille award for lifetime achievement in the film industry. Girl was a lifelong democrat and was a financial and moral supporter of many causes including the civil rights movement (she was at the March on Washington and held a press conference to protest the 16th street Baptist church bombings). She was a friend of the Kennedy family and would call jfk weekly often ending the calls by singing the first few lines of somewhere over the rainbow (she thought of them as Gemini twins).She was a member of the committee for the first amendment which was formed in response to the HUAC investigations. Though she died far too young and tragically she remains an icon for her work and her life. As a girl who didn't feel like i was as pretty as everyone else I have always felt a connection to Judy and I just really love her.

Natalie Wood (West Side Story, The Great Race)—She went through so much shit which I know can be said for all these women but Natalie really was a star and her death often overshadows her career and life. She could make you cry, but she also had the capacity to be incredibly funny which I think is lost on people.

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Natalie Wood:

Judy Garland:

Judy's voice alone qualifies her for at least top ten hottest HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMEN. She was a truly incredible swing singer, with a stunning voice on top of her technique. Her short dark hair looked incredible in just about any style. Have I mentioned her swagger? I can’t do it justice with words. She had swagger. She was funny as hell, and clever too. Incredibly charming and cool. I adore her.

Her eyes, her voice have bewitched me

I mean how can you beat the one and only Judy? She's beautiful, her smile is contagious, the way she sings with her whole body. You can't help but love her.

Beautiful woman, love her singing voice. And she can do everything between happy or silly and angry or heartbroken

#natalie wood #judy garland #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 4 #Youtube

[colourstreakgryffin]

*holds hands out for alms*

Reincarnation content where wife!s/o of Muzan who cared and loved him during his sickly heian days (who died either natural causes / accident, and he didn't get to appreciate her enough and is kind of an a-hole at that time) reborn as a hashira? And he stumbles upon her?

*coughs aggressively* i need bittersweet pining Muzan to cure my desperation

Wooowwww! I like this idea so much! This is actually very cool and I absolutely love this! Once again, thank you all for this incredible concepts! Muzan is quite the common powerhouse for this blog so let’s give him more attention

Kibutsuji Muzan- Loop-Around

Muzan knows those eyes too well… those beautiful, colourful eyes on a woman so pretty and loving. The flashbacks, the memories, the tragedy and the anger he feels over his past. Over his own failure and his own mistakes over what he did during Heian Era, during his life as a human. Those awful, painful drawn-out days where all he could do was sit in a bed and watch people come in and out of his room

The person who arrived the most was his assigned wife, Dokusha. A kind, patient, sophisticated woman of wealth, and she always spent so much time to take care of and love Muzan, all whilst looking around for the right medicine to cure his terminal illness. Muzan, during this time, couldn’t care less for that woman. She was just a useful tool to make him comfortable, feel validated and save his life but through the weeks, as he grew even weaker, he got real tired of waiting to be rescued by so many incompetents.

When he gotten given a type of medicine that worked, that odd concoction from a rather viable doctor you had bought in for Muzan, and when it shaped him into the first ever demon. He could finally walk for the first time in his life

And he walked out of that room… in perfect health, with razor sharp fangs, with a blood-thirst for human flesh, with his muscles clenching and strong. However, as he explored. He ended up finding something else as tragic as what he caused to his rescuer. His assigned wife mauled to death by wild Ussuri Brown bears in the forest, all whilst clearly trying to find absolutely any medicinal herbs that could possibly do anything to save Muzan

Muzan never really appreciated nor cared for Dokusha, he didn’t see her as much of a person and whilst he looked at the mangled body of that woman… he felt… almost nothing. It wasn’t disgust but it also wasn’t anger, it was just… emptiness and after that day. He suspected he would never see a human woman named Dokusha ever again, foolishly unaware of the fact he truly did love Dokusha and truly did feel a deep pit of misery-fuelled fury at her death. She did so much for him and he did nothing for her

Even after learning the fatal accident that caused her death was entirely centred around trying to recover Muzan from his birth sickness

Currently as the high and mighty Demon King, the first ever Demon in existence. Kibutsuji Muzan, has been confronted by the newest Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps in Asakusa, the Tashio Era when walking back to his ‘family’, and she has the eyes and the voice of his real wife. 10,000 years after her death, she’s back in a entirely new form and just knowing his dead wife has been reincarnated as his moral enemy is making Muzan’s undead heart throb in pain and outrage. Why does he feel this way looking into this Hashira’s eyes?

10,000 years after her death and now, Muzan has finally realised he has missed his wife so bad that he has grown desperate to see her again. He never noticed it, he always thought about locating the Blue Spider Lily and spreading over his ‘gift’ of demonicism around to every human he can find to gain the power he desires, to concur the Sun. Now, he notices how aggressive he is over the idea of love and how he is so repulsed by the six other wives he has pretended to marry throughout his life

Muzan stayed silent, blood red slit-pupiled eyes glaring at his reborn Hashira wife, taking in her features to every corner and constantly seeing glimpses and flashes of her original self… she’s so beautiful and he didn’t even notice how beautiful Dokusha actually was. How she didn’t deserve to die for his sake, if he could, he’d have ordered Dokusha to stay with him when she left upon calling that doctor in, as to save her life so then, he could have turned her into an demon too

Made her his Queen of Demons but no… he failed and now, he is beyond bittersweet. Pining, angry at his own blindness, upset he let the only woman who actually genuinely cared about him go… if he could reverse time, he would

Muzan, now, cannot bring himself to be the cause of his wife’s death once more… he can’t. He’ll just have to figure out another way to get her back, all without hurting her so before Dokusha could even think to begin attacking the Demon King with all the strength she has within that branded Nichirin Katana. Muzan fades away into the pitch black night, his glowing red eyes providing the only semblance of light for him when he retreats from that Hashira and those magnificent eyes, disappearing several streets down from her in a way she can’t track him down

He loves her

He knows he loves his wife and he can’t believe he had to wait for 10,000 years to recognise the mere fact that he did love Dokusha. Even if he didn’t know her enough to even call her a friend, her optimistic compassionate nature and the right to admire that personality was drowned out by Muzan’s own bitterness and desire to remain alive. He messed up royally with the first Dokusha, he won’t mess up with the second Dokusha

And he will make her his queen… even if it includes spending hours following the Ice Hashira around. He’ll do it and he already has a plan devised in his mind. He won’t hesitate to find some method to transform into a powerful immortal being like himself

All because he wants you back so bad

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #anime and manga #kny imagines #headcanons #short story #kny upper moons #kny demon king #muzan kibutsuji x reader #kibutsuji muzan #muzan kibutsuji #muzan x reader #demon slayer muzan #kny muzan #kimetsu no yaiba muzan #kny spoilers #kny x reader #kny #romantic yandere #yandere problems #kny kibutsuji #muzan short story #half yandere #demon slayer kibutsuji #kimetsu no yaiba kibutsuji

[pedrointofolklore]

Rosebud

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: carnations bloomed when you saw joel. too shy to admit your feelings, but too overcome to not, you began leaving flowers at his doorstep. 

warnings: very brief but graphic depictions of violence, mentions of death/grief, tragic backstory, emotional processing, reader is a loser who falls in love in two seconds, lots of metaphorical language, swearing, mostly just self-indulgent fluff, joel is soft, big age gap (reader is in late 20s), no smut, no use of y/n (reader has a nickname), jackson era.

word count: 6k

a/n: hey y’all. i’m delving into the world of fanfiction writing and i’m tentatively posting this as my first story. this story by @army-author is what inspired me here—i read it years ago and loved the concept ever since. i also super don't know much about flower gardening so apologies for any inaccuracies.

Your earliest memory was sitting in the garden with your mother one September. You were small then, no more than three years old, covered in soil and some residual stickiness from whatever fruit you’d just devoured, watching with a curious eye as your mother pruned her roses.

When you thought of her, you thought of that garden. In your memories, it was a labyrinth. Flowers, shrubs and vines overflowed the yard. You used to fear getting lost in the brambles, but at some point, you started to crave their thorny embrace.

It was a pink rose, so bright and intense, like a painting come to life. She shed the thorns, tucked it behind your ear and pinched your chubby cheeks. That was the first time she called you ‘Rosebud.’ Nobody ever called you anything else.

You couldn’t have known then that you were just a few Septembers away from losing her.

She died on the first day, in the centre of the garden. Your lasting memory of her was your father driving a pair of garden shears into her jugular. She collapsed to the ground, blood as dark as a crimson rose pooled around her as your father wept over her lifeless body. You sprinted inside and threw up.

She died a stranger. You didn’t understand what was happening to her then, but you understood that she was gone before the shears even entered her neck.

It haunted you for the next twenty years—but that person was not your mother. 

Whenever the wound opened, and that memory came flooding back, you closed your eyes and thought of her as she truly was—kind, gentle, passionate. You recalled her soft smile, her musical laugh, the books she read, the flowers she loved.

When you were a kid, you thought of her as the sun that kept those flowers alive. As you grew older, she became the sutures that kept you from falling apart.

You knew your father had no other choice, but you could never quite look at him the same. Still, he was all you had, and he kept you safe until the day he died.

It was your mother’s leather-bound notebook that kept you going. She listed every flower she could think of, and wrote the meaning next to it. That notebook went with you everywhere, all across the country. Every new species you came across, you found it in the book, memorised its meaning, and crossed it off your mental checklist.

Flower seeking had to be the most frivolous thing one could do at the end of the world, but it kept you close to your mother, and gave you some semblance of purpose. Each new flower felt like something blooming inside you—your own secret garden that grew from the depths of your soul.

Carnations bloomed when you saw Joel.

He first came to Jackson in December with a girl by his side. They were gone by the next morning, but you saw him. He was coming out of the bar, tugging his coat back on when you spotted him through the crowd of carolling townspeople.

Even from a distance, you noticed the pain in him—a pain similar to yours. There was a wistfulness in his face, a longing for something he missed, and a fear so intense it seemed paralysing. He clutched at his chest, holding in the marigold that grew where his heart should have been.

You wanted to know him.

He came back that spring with the same girl, and this time, he stayed.

It was a while before you spoke with either of them. Everyone who arrived in Jackson had a tendency to be closed-off at first, and you couldn’t fault them for that. You didn’t know where they’d been or what they’d done, but you knew they’d gone through hell.

You met Ellie first. She came by the greenhouse one day, arms crossed and face vacant. Her reticence might have been mistaken for hostility if you didn’t relate so much.

You tore your soil-covered gloves off and wiped a hand over your cheek, probably just further smudging whatever dirt was caked on there.

“Hi there!” You did your best to sound cheerful, to come across as someone who was definitely okay with unexpected visitors. “What can I do for you?”

“Maria told me you might need some help around here.”

You didn’t think you needed help, and it seemed like the girl wanted to be anywhere but here. But as you pondered her, you started to recognise what she was actually getting at.

She didn’t know what to do, but she needed to do something.

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Ellie.”

“Nice to meet you, Ellie.” You held out your hand, which she stared at for a good couple of seconds before shaking. “Call me Rosebud.”

“You’re a florist named Rosebud?” She was incredulous, and you didn’t even care that she was making fun of you—it was the first time you’d seen her smile during this entire interaction.

“It’s a nickname,” you told her, “and I'm more of a floriculturist. If you want to help me out, grab some gloves and a trowel.”

“What the fuck is a ‘trowel’?”

You spent the next few hours with her digging holes in the soil, un-potting flowers and planting them in the ground. As apprehensive as Ellie had been to begin with, it didn’t take her long to warm up to you.

The first thing you learned about her was that she asked a lot of questions.

“Why do we have to move these?”

“It’s spring. They’ll do better in the ground.”

“Why didn’t Maria show us this place when we first came here?”

“It was winter. Half the flowers had gone to shit, so there wasn’t much to see,” you replied, flattening the soil around a sunflower plant.

The greenhouse had been established before you got there. Nobody ran it, it was something for everyone to tend to, but nobody cared enough to do so. The gardeners of Jackson preferred to focus on crops that could actually feed them. But then you arrived, and you knew how to grow a thriving flower garden, and with all the bees it brought, it only helped the agriculture. It also meant that Jackson had honey.

“This one’s cool. What is it?” Ellie asked. You looked over at the plant she was settling into the ground—a grassy little shrub with white flowers blooming at the ends.

“Starwort. It means ‘Welcome to a stranger.’”

“Appropriate,” Ellie said. “I didn’t know flowers had meanings.”

“It’s called floriography,” you replied. “I have a book all about it.”

Ellie stayed until the sun began to set, leaving in much better spirits than she arrived. You were used to working alone, and you thought you preferred it that way, but she turned out to be good company. You sent her home with a starwort blossom and a jar of honey as a thank you, and told her to come back any time. You really hoped she would.

You met Joel the next morning. 

There was a knock at your door, which you expected to be Ellie back again. Instead, you opened the door to find her guardian standing on your front porch.

Your eyes flicked shamelessly over his form. He was broad, strong, with plaid sleeves hiked up to his elbows—you didn’t know it was possible to be attracted to someone’s forearms. His features were beautifully angular, especially his nose. But it was his eyes that really got you. They were dark like coffee, deep and intense. You could fall into them and never stop.

The garden you carried in your soul had never felt more alive. It was weird you hadn’t spoken yet, but you worried if you opened your mouth, the brightest, reddest chrysanthemums would come bursting out.

“Good mornin’. Sorry to bother you,” Joel finally said, with the rehearsed politeness typical of a Southern man. There was still an earnestness to him, like he didn’t quite remember how to do this but he was determined to try. “I think Ellie was here yesterday?”

“That’s right.” You internally cheered when your voice didn’t fail on you. “Is that okay? I know I didn’t get your permission. She just kind of showed up.”

“No, that’s okay. I just came by to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“She's been struggling to…adjust, I guess,” Joel explained, “but she was in a good mood when she came home yesterday. I think being here helped her, so thank you.”

You weren’t quite sure what to say. People silently appreciated what you did for the commune, but nobody had ever gone out of their way to thank you for anything. It was a little overwhelming.

“Well, she’s welcome here any time.” You didn’t think Ellie was particularly interested in gardening, but you could see that the girl just needed to feel busy, and maybe needed some company. You were just glad she could find that with you.

“Thank you,” Joel said again. “What was your name, darlin’?”

“Just call me Rosebud.”

You expected a laugh, a mocking jab of some sort, but instead he just tilted his head and looked at you with complete sincerity. “Pretty. It suits you.”

Your cheeks were embarrassingly warm.

“Well, I won’t keep you any longer,” Joel said. Your heart fell. “It was nice meetin’ you. And, uh, thanks again.”

He started to leave, but you weren’t ready for him to go. Before you could think it through, you called after him, “Wait.”

You might have imagined it, but for a split second after he turned back around, you could've sworn you spotted an eagerness in him, like he was hoping you’d say that.

“You can come inside,” you offered, “if you want.”

He did.

Five minutes later, Joel was standing in your kitchen, leaning against the counter. You could feel his gaze on you as you moved, getting the water ready and setting out two mugs.

“How do you like your coffee?” You were already sure of the answer.

“Black. No sugar.” Yep.

You poured the coffee into a mug, absent-mindedly blowing on it as you handed it to him. He didn’t wait for it to cool down before taking a sip, not even flinching at the heat.

You opted for tea with a generous amount of milk and honey.

“Thanks for the honey as well,” Joel said. “Ellie loves it. She’s never had anything so sweet.”

“That doesn’t surprise me if she grew up in a QZ,” you replied, turning to face him with your mug cradled in both hands. “I think I cried when I first got here and they actually had sugar.”

“When did you get here?”

“Around two years ago. My dad knew Seth—you know, from the bar—got in touch with him, and he told us how to get here,” you explained. You truly hated Seth, but he did save your ass and that left you obligated to be nice.

“Your dad’s not here, is he?” Joel spoke without any particular sentiment. It was an observation, plain and simple. You didn’t mind, you just shook your head. It felt normal to talk about your dad. You missed him, but his death wasn’t horrifically tragic to you—the man had a heart attack.

“What about you? I mean, how’d you end up here?” You were nervous about prying, or accidentally chasing him away before you really got to talk, but Joel had fascinated you since December. You needed to know more.

“I was in the Boston QZ for a while, left to look for my brother, found him.” He wasn’t going to get more detailed than that. Too much had happened that was difficult to talk about, and you could see that, because it was the same for you.

No matter how much you wanted to, you didn’t let yourself ask anything more. You didn’t ask why he’d been here in winter, why he left so soon, why he came back, why he didn’t come sooner if his brother was here, how Ellie fit into all of it. You didn’t ask, and you wouldn’t ask. All you could do was hope he’d open up in time.

It occurred to you just how different Joel looked now than he did in December, and not just because you were actually seeing him up-close. His whole spirit had shifted. Back then, he’d been like an open wound, barely being held together by exposed, bloody tendons that threatened to snap at any moment. He was different now—still wounded, but no longer in pieces.

There was something else in him too. Something dormant, but always on the verge of springing back to life. A quiet guilt.

“Flowers always been your thing?” Joel asked. You were grateful for the subject change.

“Pretty much. I used to know someone who loved them. Made me love them too.”

He nodded with an unexpected softness in his expression. It wasn’t pity, or even sympathy, but a warm kind of understanding.

“I know the flower stuff seems silly,” you said, looking down into the milky beige of your tea, “but it really is useful.”

“I know that,” Joel said. “I don’t think it’s silly.”

You could practically feel your chest split open that very second. Flowers sprouted from your heart, and they bloomed for Joel. They longed to reach out, wrap him up in their stems and vines and pull him into you.

Carnations. Chrysanthemums. Vervain.

You kept your composure until Joel left. You said your farewells, waved him off, shut the door, and immediately collapsed on your couch in a lovestruck heap. It was all so dramatic, the sofa may as well have been a bed of roses.

It wasn’t just that Joel was attractive—and fuck, he was attractive—it was the way he wholly and truly respected you. Respect was something you’d had to earn from everyone else around here, but Joel didn’t need any convincing. He saw your worth right away.

He was all you thought about for the rest of the day, the evening, until you went to bed that night. Even then, your mind wouldn’t stop racing.

These feelings were big, too big. Keeping them inside hurt, but you feared letting them out would be agony. They were safest with you, blossoming into flowers in your soul, where only you knew about them.

But still, you were wide awake, consumed by the urge to do something, say something.

So you got up, pulled your shoes on, went outside and picked a flower from your garden.

Jackson was desolate as you wandered down the street. The only residents awake at this hour were those on patrol. It might have been eerie if you weren’t so wound up. 

You scanned each house as you passed by, looking for Joel’s. Your heart pounded in your chest when you found it. You didn’t need to be so nervous, the lights were off, but you kept imagining someone walking out and catching you in the act. But you’d come this far, and his front door was just a few yards away.

You climbed the stone steps with a quiet urgency, twirling the flower between your fingers one last time before dropping it just outside his door.

A single gardenia.

You were going to leave it at just one flower—you didn’t want to be weird and scare Joel off before you really got to know him. But then Ellie came by the greenhouse again.

“Did you leave a flower on our front porch the other day?” she asked, watering a yarrow seedling.

“What? Why?” You felt so lame, and so stupid for forgetting that Ellie lived there too. Your gesture was bound to get intercepted.

“There was a white flower out there. I showed it to Joel, and we figured it was from you.” It was a very reasonable thing to figure considering it was from you.

“What did Joel say?” you asked, trying not to sound as desperate as you felt.

“He said it was for him.”

“So he took it?”

“Yeah,” Ellie said. “Don’t know what he did with it.”

Ellie wasn’t nearly as invested in this as you were, but it still sounded promising. Joel had accepted the flower, maybe even liked it. The thought made your stomach feel strange, like a bunch of petals were flurrying around in there.

“Well, it was for him…” you mumbled.

Ellie glared at you in feigned outrage. “I’m insulted.”

“What are you complaining about?” you laughed. “I gave you a flower.”

“It’s wilting.”

“Fine then”—you handed her a pair of pruning shears—“go cut yourself a new flower.”

She wandered around the greenhouse for about five minutes and came back spinning a flower between her thumb and index finger. It had pure white petals and a bright yellow pistil. “I chose this daisy.”

“That’s a cosmos,” you corrected. “It represents harmony and balance.”

Ellie assessed the flower in her hand, genuinely mulling over the meaning of it, and you realised how much you appreciated her. She saw value in something you cared about. 

“What did Joel’s mean?” she asked.

“I’m actually not sure about that one.” It was a total lie, but you sounded convincing enough that Ellie shrugged it off and carried on watering flowers.

You couldn’t help yourself after that. Knowing that Joel accepted your gift made you want to do it again. And again.

So you did. Every few days, when you were sure he and Ellie were asleep, you sauntered down to their house and dropped a flower outside the door. An aster, agapanthus, camellia…

Joel never mentioned it, and you never really expected him to, but the nods and soft smiles he gave you when he saw you around were enough to let you know he appreciated you.

But Joel would never know the true meaning of your flowers. It was better that way.

Maria and Tommy’s son was born later in the spring, and your garden had never seen so many visitors. The new parents were practically drowning in congratulatory flower arrangements, and eventually Tommy had to tell you to start turning people away.

One of these visitors happened to be Joel, and he was the one person you couldn’t turn away.

Unlike everyone else, Joel came to your door first. The slight nerves he’d had the first time he came over were gone, but so was the facade of sociability. Maybe this uncouth version of Joel should have irked you, but seeing him comfortable enough to drop the pretence just made you like him more.

“I need help with something,” he said, not even bothering with a hello.

“What is it?”

“A gift for the happy family,” he spoke bitterly, like he was actively trying not to grimace as the words came out.

“Flowers?”

“Flowers seem appropriate.”

Joel was strangely upset for someone who was welcoming their nephew into the world. You didn’t know the story between Tommy and Joel, just that they hadn’t seen each other for years before Joel and Ellie arrived in Jackson, and that Maria really disliked him.

But despite his sour attitude, it was clear Joel was trying. Whatever was weighing on him, he was pushing it down and choosing to be thoughtful for the sake of his family. Tommy could deal with one more bouquet.

You walked down to the greenhouse with Joel trailing behind you, his hands shoved into his pockets the entire time. On a better day, you would have tried to make conversation with him, but he obviously didn’t need that pressure right now.

He finally spoke up when you arrived at the greenhouse. “This place has seen better days.”

It wasn’t the flowers he was talking about, it was the structure itself. The contractor in him must have noticed the rusted metal pipes holding everything together, the holes and tears in the plastic sheets, and the fact that there was almost no room to walk.

“I know it’s bad,” you said with a nervous laugh. “It was built before I got here. I don’t think they used their finest materials.”

It was always cramped in here, but Joel being so broad and having such a presence made it even worse. He was closer to you now than he’d ever been. He smelled warm, like fresh coffee and leather and musk. It made your head spin.

“So, what kind of flowers are you thinking?” You needed to change the subject before you threw yourself at this man.

“Uh...pink?”

You laughed—you couldn’t help it. He couldn’t have been more vague if he tried.

“Why’s that funny?” He wasn’t mad, but he did seem impatient.

“Sorry,” you said, fighting back a smile. “Maybe you could elaborate on that?”

“I don’t know,” he groaned, running a hand over his prickly beard. “This is why I need help.”

You felt bad for laughing when he was so stressed out. He was overthinking something that should have been simple, and it made your heart ache for him. He was looking for guidance.

“We’ll do peonies for good fortune,” you told him, “and daffodils for new beginnings.”

His shoulders relaxed as some of the tension left him. Whatever was weighing on him was still there, but this was one thing that made it bearable. 

You walked back to your house after cutting the flowers, where there was actually space to work. You expected Joel to leave then, go home and wait until the flowers were ready like everyone else did, maybe even have you deliver them on his behalf, but he stayed by your side.

“How do you know all this stuff?” Joel asked, sitting across the table from you as you worked. “About flowers, I mean.”

You never got into this with anyone, but your inexplicable attachment to Joel compelled you to open up. Whatever pain resided in him reminded you of your own. He understood you.

“My mom had this book. She wrote down the meaning of every flower she knew of, and I guess I’ve memorised it all over the years,” you explained.

Talking about her didn’t hurt like you thought it would. It was actually a relief.

“When did it happen?” You knew what he was asking.

“First day,” you replied.

He nodded solemnly. “Me too.”

This wasn’t the first time you had seen through the gaps in Joel’s armour, but it was the first time he’d made the choice to let you. You didn’t know his limits, if those two words were as deep as he could get, but you wanted to see what would happen if you just asked.

“Joel?”

“Hm?”

“You don’t seem happy about this,” you said, straightforward but still cautious.

“I guess I’m not,” he admitted, looking down pensively.

“Why is that?”

“Just don’t understand bringing a kid into all this.”

You agreed with him. The people of Jackson were as safe as they could be, but outside the walls were infected, raiders, FEDRA, and a multitude of horrors too awful to speak of. It would only take one mistake for Jackson to be completely wiped out. You wouldn’t want to bring a child into a world like that either.

But you also knew that most people who had kids post-outbreak hadn’t done it by choice.

“It’s not as if people have access to birth control,” you pointed out, stacking peonies onto a piece of tissue paper. “But I don’t disagree.”

“It’s just a lot for me to wrap my head around,” Joel continued—or maybe he was starting on a completely different train of thought. “Tommy’s the uncle. He’s always been the uncle. I’m…“

He couldn’t say it. He didn’t have to.

“You still are,” you told him. “Tommy’s still an uncle.”

Joel was silent, letting your words sink in. It was cold comfort, and maybe you shouldn’t have said it, but it was what you believed.

“Why do people call you Rosebud?” The question took you aback. It was completely unrelated, yet felt so important. He was the first person in twenty years to ask you that question.

“My mom came up with it when I was little. It’s what everyone’s called me since.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” Joel asked. “Seems like a constant reminder of what you lost.”

It was hard having to live without her, but you never wanted to forget what you lost. “I guess I like the reminders.”

His hand absent-mindedly fell to the broken watch on his wrist, and for a fleeting moment, you were seeing the man you first saw in December. An open wound. Marigold.

“She didn’t stop being my mom,” you said quietly. “I didn’t stop being her daughter.”

And as quickly as the wound opened, it was once again sewn shut. He even managed a smile. “You’re wise, kid. You know that?”

Kid.

Ouch.

It felt like a kick to the stomach. In an instant, the carnations that bloomed when you first saw Joel all those months ago, that had been so red and vibrant, faded into yellow.

You held yourself together until he left. You finished arranging the flowers, wrapped them up, handed them over to him, said goodbye and wished him luck, then trudged over to the couch and flopped down onto it—this time in a dejected heap.

It wasn’t as if you thought you had much of a chance with Joel, but this just felt so awfully final. It didn’t matter that you were basically thirty years old—in his mind, you were a kid.

It was embarrassing. You thought about the flowers you left—a quiet admission of feelings—and prayed the couch would swallow you whole and suffocate you. 

You’d gotten it all wrong. Joel never appreciated it. He probably thought it was weird and pathetic but didn’t have the heart to tell you. You wondered why he even accepted the initial flower, and if you weren’t feeling so spurned and humiliated, it might have dawned on you that you were overreacting.

You still left a flower that night, if only to get some closure. It would be the last one you ever left him.

A red tulip.

Joel came to your door one day in July.

You’d come to expect Ellie on your front porch at least once a week, but Joel wasn’t a surprise either. You were friends now, even after such an embarrassing rejection.

Joel still never mentioned the flowers. He was probably relieved when you stopped leaving them and wanted to pretend it never happened, and that was fine by you.

Being friends didn’t help matters though. He was always rough and grumpy in his Joel way, but he was sweet too. So sweet. It felt impossible to move on.

“Hey, Joel,” you said. “Need help with something?”

“I wanted to help you, actually.”

“Me?”

“I can’t keep lookin’ at that greenhouse,” Joel said. “It’s a piece of shit.”

You had to laugh at his honesty. “You want to patch it up?”

“Was thinking of taking the whole thing apart and rebuildin’ it.”

The offer stunned you. It was so generous and so out of nowhere. Your first instinct was to say no, that it wasn’t worth the trouble, but something stopped you. It was Joel coming to you in earnest and saying he wanted to help. It felt like an insult to deny him.

You smiled warmly and nodded. “Okay.”

“When can I get started?” he asked.

Shit. You had dozens of flower pots you didn’t know what to do with. “Uh, I’ll have to empty the greenhouse first. I guess I'll bring the flowers here in the meantime.”

“Ellie and I can help with that,” Joel said. “I’ll go get her.”

You blinked at him. “Now?”

“You got other plans?”

You absolutely did not. “Ah, no. Now is good.”

“Great.”

That was how you spent your day, lugging flower pots from the greenhouse and unloading them in your front yard with Joel and Ellie in tow. It was so lovely it bordered on being painful—pink roses unshed of their thorns pierced your heart.

You let yourself imagine for a moment that this was reality. That you, Joel and Ellie were a weird, happy family. The carnations in your soul had never been more yellow, and you instantly regretted indulging in that particular fantasy.

Joel was already at the greenhouse when you went there the next morning. He was up on a ladder, and half of the structure was already torn down. Rusted metal pipes and discoloured, ripped up plastic sheets were piling up a few feet away.

“Need any help?” you called out.

He looked down at you and smiled—a real, wide smile you hadn’t seen on him before. “You know what you’re doin'?”

“Not really.”

“Then, no,” he replied. “Don’t want you droppin’ anything on that pretty little head.”

Huh?

You flushed all over, wishing your couch was here so you could collapse onto it. Less than two months ago he was calling you a kid, and now he thought your head was pretty. The thought crept in that maybe he was purposely messing with you, but you liked Joel too much to entertain the idea.

“Well, I probably can’t help with the physical labour,” you said, cursing how nervous your voice sounded. “But if there’s anything else…”

“You’re a sweet one, Rosebud,” Joel said. He had to be doing this on purpose. “You just let me do my thing, and we’ll leave it a surprise.”

You laughed. “In other words, you’re telling me to get lost?”

He grinned at you fondly. “Just trust me.”

It only took one exchange for that hope to come back to life. You tried to stop it, tell yourself he was just teasing, that he didn’t mean it that way, but it was too late. Those carnations were already morphing back into a searing red.

You wanted to come by everyday and watch him work, but you stayed away and waited for him to come to you. It only took a few days for him to show up at your door, looking infuriatingly hot covered in blotches of sage green paint.

“Is it ready?” you asked.

“It’s ready.”

You followed along behind him, keeping your eyes down so you didn’t accidentally spot the new greenhouse before he was ready for you to look. You ended up just ogling his ass, which was a decidedly better and much more pinch-able sight than the ground.

“Look now.”

You lifted your gaze, and your hands flew up to your mouth as you let out a dramatic gasp.

It wasn’t just good, it wasn’t just an improvement, it was beautiful—masterfully pieced together with timber and painted the same sage green that Joel was sporting on his clothes. And it was bigger. There would actually be space for you to walk around inside.

Joel started to panic from beside you, and you realised you were crying. “Is it the green? I can repaint it if you hate it.”

You seemed to have lost the power of speech to reassure him, so instead, you threw your arms around him and held tight. The suddenness of it shocked him, and his hands found your waist. You weren’t sure if he was about to push you away or pull you in.

“So, you like it?” he asked.

“I love it,” you snivelled into his shoulder. “Thank you, Joel.”

He hugged you back then, caging you in with his big arms and making you feel so safe. You felt a prickly sensation on your temple as he brushed his lips against it. 

Red tulips were threatening to burst out of you in droves. You didn’t want to let go, but you were seconds away from making a confession you couldn’t take back if you spent too much longer in his embrace.

You pulled yourself away, and even with the sun beating down on you, you missed his warmth.

He walked you back home, came inside when you offered him iced tea (you were out of coffee), drank it all even if it was too sweet for him, and all you could do was thank him repeatedly for what he’d done.

“Don’t have to thank me,” he said. “I wanted to do this for you.”

What did that mean?

“I’m sorry I never said anything,” Joel continued, a pink flush apparent on his cheeks.

“About what?” You knew exactly what.

“The flowers. I wanted to thank you, but I didn’t know how. I’m not used to it.”

“Used to what?”

“Kindness.” He almost winced, like it hurt to say.

“It was weird. I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t weird,” Joel assured you. “It was…nice. Bummed me out when you stopped.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. I get it.”

You didn’t know what to say at this point. You didn’t want to be talking about any of it, and you were about to tell him that, ask him to move on from this, until he decided to put you on the absolute spot.

“What did they mean?”

Fuck. “Hm?”

“The flowers,” he said. “You said flowers have meaning. What did they mean?”

“I actually don’t know those ones.” That harmless little lie worked on Ellie, but Joel saw right through it.

“Why are you lying to me?” He didn’t even sound angry or annoyed, just genuinely curious, and a little sympathetic.

You considered doubling-down, insisting you didn't know, but you couldn’t do that him. It was a vulnerable conversation for not only you, but Joel as well. You understood how hard this was for him, and you cared for him too much to shut him down.

But you couldn’t say it, not verbally. Instead, you grabbed the notebook that was laying on your coffee table and held it out to him. There was a split second as he was reaching for it where you imagined yourself tugging it back out of his reach, forgetting about this entire thing, but then it was in his hands and it was too late. Nothing would ever be the same.

You held your breath as he flipped through it, his eyes flicking over the words. His face gave nothing away, but his finger was tracing over something.

Red tulip - declaration of love. 

He gently shut the book and set it down, and your eyes stayed firmly on the floor, hoping if you stared at it long enough it would split open and consume you.

“Are you surprised?” You couldn’t project your voice above a whisper.

“I guess not,” Joel said. It was the honest answer, and the one you most expected. “I thought you were just bein’ nice, then Ellie kept insisting you were interested.”

That girl was smarter than you gave her credit for—and you already thought she was very smart.

“I thought there was no way,” Joel continued. “You’re sweet and young and so pretty. I’m just an old man.”

“I don’t care how old you are,” you replied.

“I’ve done a lot of bad things...”

“I don’t care what you’ve done. I care who you are now.”

You were looking at him now. He looked moved, rapt, and not at all like someone about to deliver a devastating rejection.

“And you want me?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause where neither of you said anything, but the air was thick with an unspoken question: Where do we go from here?

“Can I kiss you, Rosebud?”

You nodded, and he did. It felt like dozens of chrysanthemums, camellias and carnations all springing to life under your skin.

He was gentle in a way you never could have imagined, cupping your cheek with his palm and holding your waist with the other. It was reminiscent of the hug you’d shared earlier, and you wondered if he’d wanted to kiss you then.

His lips were rough, a little chapped, but soft in the way he moved them. This wouldn’t be how he always kissed, you were sure of that. Someday it would be messy, frantic, all-consuming. But this careful, slow movement of his lips against yours was all you needed right now. 

He wanted to be gentle with you, because he cherished you like a rosebud.

flower translations:

rose (pink) - perfect happiness

rose (dark crimson) - mourning

carnation (red) - admiration

marigold - grief, despair

starwort - welcome to a stranger

chrysanthemum (red) - i love you

vervain - enchantment

gardenia - you’re lovely

yarrow - healing

aster - symbol of love

agapanthus - secret love

camellia (pink) - longing for you

peony - prosperity

daffodil (bunch) - new beginnings, hope, good luck

carnation (yellow) - rejection, disappointment

tulip (red) - declaration of love

rosebud (red) - pure, lovely

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller imagine #the last of us #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #the last of us fanfiction

[pangolin-404]

V2 is such a tragic character and I don't see enough people talking about it

It was built for peace (and to recuperate the cost poured into V1). It was built to be kind. It was built in the aftermath of great despair and is the representation of New Peace.

And then humanity dies. Maybe there was another war, maybe the New Peace wasn't as peaceful as it seemed (V2 was potentially used as security), but in the end it doesn't matter because humanity got wiped out and V2 was left alone.

Imagine having your purpose ripped from you, left stranded and alone (divine light ripped away, even). V2 was forced to go against its very nature of peacekeeping, forced to descend into hell along its far more bloodthirsty brethren. It ran on blood just like them, but it had to kill for it, to slaughter the already-dead and its fellow machines alike to stay alive. Without humans to maintain peace with, it is living for itself, which is a fantastic motive to live, but I cannot fathom what entropy splits its mind when initially facing this fact. Humanity is dead and it must kill its dwindling remains to continue existing.

The perseverance V2 displays is astounding. It's smart enough to know when it's losing and to run. It fixes itself with all the creativity of a swordsmachine rebuilding itself, taking scrap to make something new. Built for kindness and a new era, how much was creativity and self-determination drilled into it, encouraged?

It displays so much personality in its quirks and mind, displaying respect wits its bow before combat and intimidation with it cracking its knuckles. It is trying to live, because that's all it has, in this new world so foreign to what it once knew.

surely it's scared. yes it may believe itself a truly incredible machine, the superior magnum opus. maybe it is egotistical in how it views itself, proud of itself, but what else does it have to cling to when everything else about its life has been ravaged beyond recognition? does it view the world around it and feel alone? Such an incredible self-preservation, enough to maim what once tore it apart in an attempt to steal back what was once rightfully its.

did it reside in limbo because it was the most familiar, even if it is fake? how deeply must it miss humanity. never used, scrapped just like its predecessor (its lesser). never got to truly experience that desired peace, now forever out of reach. all it can do is persevere and continue existing clinging to what little of itself it has left, and that is what it does, what it tries to do, and what it fails to do.

#thoughts #ultrakill #v2 #ultrakill posting #got thinking bc I see lots of people portraying v2 as prickly and egotistical and I think it is very caring+creative+SCARED inside #like I think it would take 1 heartfelt peace offering + hug to make that thang break down #I think it misses humanity. I think it misses it a lot

[mykingdomforapen]

LC's Link Click fic shout-outs

I worry I'm going to come off as nagging but I do feel strongly about it. Link Click has some INCREDIBLE fic, written by people who put a lot of time and energy and effort into writing, but they don't always get a ton of reader interaction. I feel like I often find a fic I enjoy, scroll down to comment, and find I'm maybe one of 2 or 3 people to comment on it.

Link Click is technically not a small fandom--on the contrary, it's so incredibly active! But it seems that unless a fic was published in the s1 era or happens to get lucky, this is the norm. Which strikes me as sad, because the fandom is popping and active on other platforms.

So here are a handful of fics (by no means exhaustive) of fics that I've thoroughly enjoyed that I had scrolled down and went, They deserve so much love! (again, not exhaustive!)

liminal by Anonymous

Qiao Ling and Lu Guang talk. Much is left unsaid.

It's such a subtle fic, but so effective in showing Lu Guang's emotions, Qiao Ling's worry, and the nature of their relationship in conjunction to Cheng Xiaoshi. It's truly just so soft and nice.

stain by HeavenlyDusk

The only way for Cheng Xiaoshi to be dead is for Qiao Ling to have died first.

I just love a Qiao Ling confronts Lu Guang about Cheng Xiaoshi's death fic, and this one really captures big sister Qiao Ling and how much she cares about both of her boys. I love it!

resolve and reverberations by macrauchenia

Lu Guang rarely fumbles, rarely cracks, and rarely steps up to the sparring mat first. Nevertheless, on a random day in the middle of September, he does all three. Alternatively, Qiao Ling and Cheng Xiaoshi can't figure out why their best friend seems so *wrong* for no explicable reason.

A slice of life fic that adds such a delicious sprinkle of angst at Lu Guang's expense hehe. But it makes me feel so sad for Lu Guang, who just is so traumatized of losing Cheng Xiaoshi, and then it gives him a soft encouragement at the end. It's so sweet.

Instinct (Part One) by JordannaMorgan

Hired to solve a wealthy client’s personal mystery, Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang discover there are even darker powers in the world than they realized… and the damage left in the fallout will not be easily fixed for anyone.

Man, this fic is so CREATIVE. It is great at suspense, kept me on the edge of my seat from chapter to chapter, and the Cheng Xiaoshi angst is so delicious. And then the ENDING. gahhh, I cannot wait for Part Two and really hope that it will come!! I think about this fic so often

A Day Like Any Other by rane_ne

After three long years, for the very first time ever, Lu Guang finally gets to turn 20.

It's just ... gahhhh. Cheng Xiaoshi is my blorbo, yes, but Lu Guang being so relieved and emotional at the end because he's finally done it, and is turning another year older because he no longer has to dive back because his friend is alive??? GAHHHHH

Memoriam by JordannaMorgan

Even for those who have no powers, photographs are powerful things.

This is a lovely case fic that is so thoughtfully, emotionally, and tenderly told. I love the compassion that the story has for the characters, and it gives me the feelings that the Earthquake arc concluded with--finding joy and kindness even within the tragedy. I really love it.

sept, oct by Toothpaste_Fresh

The first time around, there are no rules, and Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi must learn all of their lessons the hard way. The first time around, Cheng Xiaoshi is the seventh of Liu Min’s victims. The second time around, there will be no seventh victim.

Gosh, this fic is so goooood. I love the speculation of what the first time round was like, and GOSH it's just such a gut punch of dramatic irony, of both CXS and LG being bold and idealistic and naive, and then how it tragically leads to CXS' death. It's EXCELLENT.

Golden Hour by StuckIn_aTimeLoop

The salty breeze feels nice. Cheng Xiaoshi smiles as he kneels down in the sand, happy they managed to make it in time for golden hour. Cheng Xiaoshi holds up the camera to capture his shot.

I LOVE ME SOME PARALLEL SCENES THAT ARE CONNECTED AND INTERTWINED BY AN EMOTIONAL MOTIF!! The juxtaposition of two types of golden hours is done so well, and both are so full of energy of opposite kinds in such a well balanced way. I was so excited when I heard this fic was being written and I was so happy reading it.

the shine in your eyes reminded me of the moon by StuckIn_aTimeloop

Cheng Xiaoshi was barely a child when his parents died. The king took him in, raised him as his own. Now he's older, it is time for him to choose his own knight.

Prince Cheng Xiaoshi and Knight Lu Guang. Need I say more??? It's so indulgent and I love it.

#LC recommends #link click #shiguang dailiren #shiguang daili ren

[thegreenthepeacetheorange]

Everlark (Mockingjay, Ch. 25-27)

peeta also being in the burn unit bc he was in the city circle

what i personally believe is that he's the one who tried to put out the fire that overwhelmed katniss, hence his own burnt hands and forehead

her using peeta's coping mechanism of pain to stay grounded in reality

when katniss talks about all the people she trusts being said, she highlights that there is peeta but he wouldn't know any more than her about 13's plans.

"we are both fire mutts now" - still a (broken) team

"those same blues" mentioned again

haymitch understanding katniss. the dad that stepped up. i love that he says "i'm with the mockingjay" instead of "yes"

katniss being our fave feral girl by literally biting into peeta's hand as he stops her from taking her nightlock

the fact that when she says "let me go", our baker boy with the beautiful words and the charm can only say "i can't"

just another instance where these can't let each other go. has anyone made a counter for these instances?

peeta is well and truly back. to do that. to know he can't let her go. that even when she bites him so hard he bleeds, he just looks into her eyes and lets her know he can't let her die

the fact that after the way katniss was used in the games and then in the rebellion, afterwards when she's damaged and broken and bruised and they have no more use for her, she's just sent off to 12

"there's no obstacle now to taking my life. but i seem to be waiting for something" - the same way peeta kept his hand open with the nightlock pill waiting for katniss to curl over his hand for him, katniss waits for peeta's permission to die

i love that she doesn't even mention peeta by name when she sees he's returned. we just know instinctively that he's the "him" that's back.

peeta says dr aurelius wouldn't let him leave the capitol til the day before which makes me think peeta had really been trying to be discharged to get back to katniss.

"his eyes have lost that clouded, tortured look"

katniss who understandably has fallen into physical disrepair over the last two chapters now feels "defensive" as peeta looks at her, frowning, and tries to push her hair out of her eyes somewhat. her relationship is SO different to the one she has with everyone else. and that's because it's really the only one where she's concerned with romance and her looks etc

peeta digging up and bringing her primrose. the boy with the bread is still here bringing gifts that can't have a price put on them. he is the sweetest most beautiful fictional boy

katniss is relieved that gale is in 2, far away. that era of her life is over, that friendship is over.

although she's still confusing right to end. why are you thinking about gale's lips kissing other lips. i think it's just like her finding closure but still.

katniss falling asleep on the sofa but waking up in her bed. we can guess who got her there

it's only after peeta comes back that katniss starts to hunt, find closure, grieve with others.

peeta bringing her a warm loaf of bread again.

them taking the family plant book and creating a new book to honour and remember the dead. her, peeta and haymitch creating their own makeshift family book. so tragic so beautiful

"peeta and i grow back together" - like it was inevitable.

But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale's fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that. So after, when he whispers, “You love me. Real or not real?” I tell him, “Real.”

i love how simple and matter of fact this whole passage is. she doesn't need to go into flowery descriptions or explanations. she's already done that for three books.

i just love this whole passage so much. so much hope. so much love. after all that's happened, katniss learns to live again, to hope again, to love again, to see goodness again. and peeta is a key to her achieving that. and it's so beautiful

as an adult, i now know that this scene is alluding to their first time having sex. the mentions of his arms that build to his lips that build to her hunger from the beach that night. "so after" is after that night, that moment in their relationship where things become elevated in a new way.

him whispering that is not him asking her to declare it or say it. he's asking her to confirm what he feels, has felt. that she loves him. and she knows now her answer forever. real.

#everlark #the hunger games #mockingjay #peeta x katniss #katniss x peeta #katniss and peeta #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #tgtpto everlark read #haymitch abernathy

[cecilysass]

Milagro Fic Recommendations

These are good for any time of year, of course, not just February 14. But here are my favorite fics related to the season 6 episode Milagro, a long time favorite. (And @sisterspooky1013's favorite episode of all time: happy VD, girl!) I’ve been reading and sifting through these for some time, and I have tried to include some from all eras: newer AO3 fics, some written right after the ep aired, etc. But I'm sure I've missed some, so hit me with your own faves, please.

Because of Milagro's ending, this entire genre of fic tends to be heavy on the hurt/comfort and angst (which is fiiiiine by me), but that’s not all that’s here. Many of these are smutty, but not all.

Adagio - Terma99 A meditative, peaceful take on the aftermath of Milagro by a veteran author that includes both agents realizing something they had learned. Lovely.

Alma - 6hoursgirl (@sixhours) A lovely hurt/comfort Milagro piece. This one is Mulder POV, which is a little less common for post-Milagro, I think, and I like this characterization of Mulder as desperately wanting to help Scully, desperately wanting to protect her, but also a tiny bit scared of the intimacy and relationship he feels they’re on the cusp of. He’s so good-hearted and also a little dysfunctional here, and I love it.

Bated Breath - dreamingofscully (@dreamingofscully) This one has an original take on Scully's experience; it leaves Scully with clarity and new direction in her relationship with Mulder. DreamingofScully tends to write a more confident, in-charge Scully in the MSR than some do, and I appreciate it.

Beyond the Strokes of a Typewriter - storybycorey (@storybycorey) When Scully is stricken and ashamed that it’s been so long since anyone has seen her as a woman as Padgett did, Mulder is pushed to revelations. Mulder 3rd person POV. Very good smut build up. And nobody does a gorgeous feelings reveal from Mulder like storeybycorey, man.

I Believe - Diana Battis There are a lot of lovely, heartfelt hurt/comfort fics about the aftermath of Milagro (for obvious reasons), but this one is especially well done. Viewed from Scully’s third person point of view, it focuses on Mulder’s capacity for tenderness and guilt. Plus some smut.

Don’t Look Up - ArtemisX5 After Padgett's hallway revelation, Scully is horrified that she has no secrets left. But you know, Mulder is much slower on the draw than she gives him credit for. There is also such moving hurt/comfort in this.

Intimacies with Strangers -mldrgrl (@mldrgrl) This mid- and post- Milagro piece has Mulder and Scully simmering in tension and then boiling over. Their relationship is complex and painfully entangled, and I love how it plays out. There is also excellent Scully characterization. This one helps me to get more fully why she might have been drawn to Padgett initially, something I struggle with in the episode.

La Madrugada - h0ldthiscat A carefully told tale of RST that takes both characters seriously and is sincerely moving. Excellent.

Lacuna - Aloysia_Virgata (@aloysiavirgata) This is a longer work, not really a classic post ep per se. But I love this moody, angsty casefile set right after Milagro. This Scully has not come to terms with her emotions, is thoroughly freaked by how she reacted to Padgett, and hasn't even entirely worked out how she feels about Mulder. There is Scully/other here, but the ship is steering home. The end of this is so moving, but cw: dark themes in the casefile, extreme violence against children, traumatized agents.

Still Life - Seek_Its_Opposite (@seek-its-opposite) Ah, this is such a thoughtful and exquisitely written Scully character piece — and it contains some truly beautiful insights about Mulder, too. It suggests the heartbreaking idea that Mulder’s way of showing Scully respect (giving her distance) is continually hurting her. So tragic (and consistent with canon, e.g. Never Again.) One memorable line: “Every one of their fights is about how to care for one another, every last one.”

Alma Gemela - matchingfabric (@matchingfabric) After the events of Milagro, Scully (and Mulder) get accustomed to platonically sharing a bed for comfort. This is a slightly different take on post-Milagro. Exceptionally, irresistibly sweet. Oh, and smutty.

What did I miss? Tell me. And yes, I'm working on my own short Milagro fic that will be coming soon-ish.

#x files fanfic #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #fox mulder #dana scully #msr #milagro #fic recs #fic rec list #love fic recs #season 6 #xf valentines day #valentines day

[cairoscene]

do you have any fic recs? (anything w tim joins the batfam early or ghostbat or anything in general tbh!)

hello i absolutely do! i'm going to try to give a good scattering of different fics and hope one of these is new to you/what you're looking for.

for "tim joins the bat family early" these are some of my favorites:

5 Times Tim Spends the Night at Wayne Manor + 1 Time He Comes Home by motleyfam. this fic is inspired by Latchkey by goldkirk and birds fly in every direction by distracted_dragon, and all three are really excellent fics and great entries into this particular tag. all three of these fics are ones i turn to when i want prime hurt/comfort tim pangs with plenty of family fluff and shenanigans.

Brother Wanted by Vamillepudding. i read this one early on in fandom and i still laugh when i think about it. premise is that jason mistakenly answers tim's advert for a brother and ends up with tim paying him to be his brother. it's full of a very precocious and lonely tim trying his hardest to keep jason around, while jason is desperately trying to figure out how to get this kid adopted before he runs out of money. truly a delightful fic.

Like a Hinge, Like a Wing by Ultrageekatlarge. cw for child abuse and peril, so mind the tags but imo this is a work of art. genuinely one of the best paced and well-written fics out there. i suppose it's technically not tim joining the family early but rather an AU where jason never died, so tim never had the chance to replace him; instead he finds himself under the care of a horrible uncle after his parents die, and in desperation, he turns to the only person who can help: batman.

the Surveillance series by smilebackwards. cheating again bc technically this is just an AU where jason didn't die and tim is a civilian, so it's got the flavor of a different joining-the-family dynamic, plus added timkon delightfulness. this is my go-to for highly competent and extremely lonely tim drake content.

as for ghostbat, it's an extremely small tag, but it's got some excellent fics:

Miscommunication by OkayAristotle. pretty sure this is the first fic in the ghostbat tag, and somehow it got them prefect right from the start. the petty banter and ease with which they interact is phenomenal.

break me shake me devastate me by pendulum_north. some great angst with a small helping of comfort! as well as just a good overall look at the more tragic side to ghostbat.

i used to waste my time dreaming of being alive (now i only waste it dreaming of you) by nygmamale. bed-sharing! pining! banter! angst! there's something about how they both go out of their way to spite the other in this fic that really gets me.

The First Warm Thing by Noknowname. absolutely aching ghostbat domesticity and old men being gross and in love.

and i'll throw in a few of my other favorite random DC fics just for the heck of it:

A Meditation on Railroading by eggmacguffin. this remains one of my all-time favorite fics. tim gets stranded and chooses to freight-hop his way back to gotham, and guess who ends up on the same train? "baby wipes jason" is still spoken with reverent and hushed tones in my groupchat regularly.

Stargazer by lemonadegarden. my favorite comfort reread jason fic. jason breaks his leg and gets stuck at the manor while recuperating. honestly it's rare to find a fic that really lets jason feel as young as he is. i think he's 19 in this fic and he feels so very lost and young and hurt in a way that really heals me.

Overcoming Our Antecedents by Batbirdies. jason gets temporarily de-aged, and bruce has feelings about it. one of my cornerstone jason and bruce fics, mostly bc it contextualizes bruce and jason's relationship pre-jason's death in a way a feel many fics don't bother with. it's really really heartwarming.

The Jingle Jangle Morning by audreycritter. robin-era dick goes on a field trip and bruce has emotions. i think about this fic all the time tbh. it really sells bruce as a young, committed, and sweet father who really just wants to make sure dick is okay.

Tap Out by coyote_nebula. jason gets poisoned. oopsie. this whole series is excellent but i love this one for the way it builds up jason as a brother and a son, and the flashbacks to jason's early days after he was adopted by bruce. i truly wish there were more fics about newly adopted jason but what this fic offers scratches that itch for me.

buy back the secrets by sundiscus. in case you haven't heard this is the Timkon Fic of All Time. a 5+1 of times kon saved tim drake that has everything. identity shenanigans! tim and bruce pangs! kon and clark pangs! tim being extremely competent and extremely lonely! kon being extremely lonely and also pretty competent. this is technically a wip so i hope you'll forgive me for reccing it but it's really great and also totally worth it bc fer is absolutely 100% going to deliver and it's just. very good.

#asks answered #fic recs #i worked on this all morning instead of actually working. hubris #ty anon i hope these suit your needs

[weast-of-eden]

it seems like some people actually liked my last fic rec, so here's another one, guys! this time i tried finding some fics that were a little different, like AUs, different POVs, rarepairs, WIPs, etc. again, these are pretty all set in canonverse (ACD or Granada) or victorian era unless specified otherwise. so without further ado, here is:

Eden’s ACD/Granada Unique Fic Recommendations

And With Him Disaster by eggshellseas (@/maxwelljacobfriedman on tumblr) 14k | Rated E Summary: John Watson is being stalked by a vampire. Notes: not-your-mother's vampire au, that's for sure. definitely read the tags before getting into this but man, this fic is so, so good. features not only vampire!holmes but also dark!holmes and it's a ride from beginning to end. ugh i want to talk more about this fic but i can't spoil anything!!

Into darkness then without a candle by Solshine (@/thehumantrampoline on tumblr) 10k | Rated T Summary: At first, Moriarty is just a disguise, like all the rest in his wardrobe; a helpful alias to bring Holmes closer to the evils he duels. And then the disguise wins at the Reichenbach Falls. AU inspired by the stage play, “The Secret of Sherlock Holmes." Notes: i can't even get into this. I CAN'T EVEN GET INTO THISSSS. there are no words. if there were, the word would be: UGH. this is such a unique fic and watson really pulls through in this. I CAN'T EVEN GET INTO THIS RIGHT NOW.

Back to Edinburgh by mightymads 4k | Rated T Summary: The Jezail bullet in Watson’s leg causes him so much pain that he is on the verge of despair. London doctors deem it impossible to extract the bullet without inevitable nerve damage. Holmes finds a surgeon in Edinburgh, who agrees to help. It is none other than Professor Joseph Bell. Notes: Dr. Bell says 'gay rights'! also Scottish Watson for the win! this is such a beautiful story, Watson really gets to take the center stage while Holmes gets to worry for his well-being. oh how the tables have turned. plus lots of ACD's personal life mixed with Watson's own, which I think makes this such a unique fic. it's just really nice to read. *chef's kiss*

The Red Notebook by Garonne 10k | Rated T Summary: Holmes is dead, or seems to be. Watson starts to write, and Mycroft starts to read. Holmes/Watson slash set during the Hiatus. Mycroft's POV. Notes: i LOVE Mycroft POVs, and this is one of my favorites. also i love fics that depict watson's stories as completely false, like Moriarty is not real and 'The Final Problem' was just john's way of coping. STELLAR FIC.

Some Power of Selection by wordybirdy 12k | Rated E Summary: John Watson is a struggling doctor in recent practice on London's Upper Wimpole Street. One dreary Wednesday, an urgent telegram summons him to 221B Baker Street, where he meets a sombre and initially taciturn gentleman by the name of Sherlock Holmes. Sparks immediately fly – but not of the positive, life-affirming variety... Notes: enemies to lovers AU for the win! Stamford is such a knob in this one, truly. but that's okay, our heroes figure themselves out anyways. great banter in this one, if you like rom-coms then this is the fic for you!

One Page Is Missing by PlaidAdder 2k | Rated T Summary: "From this point onward I will follow the course of events by transcribing my own letters to Mr. Sherlock Holmes which lie before me on the table. One page is missing, but otherwise they are exactly as written and show my feelings and suspicions of the moment more accurately than my memory, clear as it is upon these tragic events, can possibly do." --The Hound of the Baskervilles, Chapter 8 **** This is the missing page. Notes: ok first of all you should read all of PlaidAdder’s Missing Pages series, it’s so beautifully written. this is the first of the series and the premise is so interesting and mysterious! this fic is for any fans of HOUN (me) or enjoyers of jealous Holmes (also me)

On the Orbits of Asteroids by Sheila_Snow 22k | Rated E Summary: Watson has a secret from his past that he's kept from Holmes, but the past has a tendency to come back and haunt you. Notes: Watson/Moriarty fic. yes you read that correctly and YES it's crazy good. there's still holmes/watson but it's angsty and– i can't even get into it, you just gotta read for yourself. also feat. Moran who is currently questioning his sexuality (yeah watson will do that to you mate)

The Better Part of Valour by rachelindeed 7k | Rated T Summary: Mr Melas considers himself a coward, but more than one man's courage comes with complicated cracks. Notes: for any fans of 'The Greek Interpreter' (aka ME) this fic is the coolest ever. POV from Melas, who is smart, witty, and very observant. you get to meet Paul Kratides when he's not in the middle of being tortured, plus the ANGSTIEST background story about Watson's war injury. Oof. But I literally love this fic guys pwease read it

☆The Adventure of the Purloined Heart by ladyblahblah (@/hungrylikethewolfie on tumblr) 15k | Rated M Summary: A gruesome murder unveils secrets kept buried for years. Some feelings can only be hidden for so long. Notes: This fic checks every single box for me. HOLY SHIT. It's got murder, mystery, intrigue; it's got pining, secrets, and unrequited (?) love. I think the reason I'm so unwell about this fic is because it's a WIP that ends on a doozy of a cliffhanger. if god loves me he will let this fic be finished one day. IT'S SO GOOD GUYS PLEASE READ THIS FIC. in my ao3 history is says 'visited 12 times in the past month.' what is wrong with me

i hope someone out there enjoys these! also i was going to tag the authors whose tumblrs i knew, but then i chickened out, so... sue me i guess?

also if there’s any AUs, tropes, or somesuch fics you wish existed but can’t find, feel free to ask me!! maybe i’ve read something you’re looking for :)

#sorry if i got a little wonky at the end #but that last fic is literally my bible #ngl i kinda gave y'all the goods on this one these are all soooo good #sherlock holmes #acd holmes #granada holmes #granada johnlock #acd johnlock #fic rec #acd johnlock fic rec #granada johnlock fic rec #holmes/watson

[junebugwriter]

Trans Awareness, Remembrance, and the Dangers of Existing 

For those who still yet live. 

(Image from GLAAD.)

November 13th – 19th was the annual Transgender Awareness Week, a week that ends in Transgender Day of Remembrance. The Day of Remembrance is a day that is solemn, tragic, and rather sobering. It’s the day we take to remember our transgender siblings who were killed in acts of transphobic hate. It is a day of mourning, of gravity, and many, many tears, because of how truly painful it can be. For me, a newly self-realized trans woman, it’s even more sobering. 

Rewind to about a year ago. I was beginning to acknowledge the enormity of my gender dysphoria after 35 years of denial. It was something I was desperate to avoid at the beginning because I knew. I knew how much the world hates trans people for existing. How dangerous it is to step outside of the boundaries of the fragile social structure that we have encoded into our lives. How brittle and unsafe it can all be for someone who does not conform to the gender that we were assigned at birth.  

I wanted to look away for so very, very long. To not admit the truth of my nature. But the funny thing about the truth is that it just stays there, even if you don’t believe it. And my truth was that I was trans. My new reality was that no matter how far I go in the journey, no matter how well I might “pass” (even though passing isn’t the goal, it’s being authentic to myself), there will always be people who hate me for existing.  

I was unable to write this yesterday, due to obligations, but I wanted to write about it, nonetheless. Some friends of mine were able to hold a ceremony for the lives of our trans siblings who were taken this year. They got to say their names. They got to hold a candle for these brothers and sisters, dear people whose lives ended because someone decided that they shouldn’t exist.  

These are their names. * 

London Price. 

Lisa Love. 

A’nee Johnson. 

Chyna Long. 

YOKO. 

Sherlyn Marjorie.  

Kylie Monali. 

Luis Angel Diaz Castro. 

Thomas “Tom-Tom” Robertson. 

De’Vonnie J’Rae Johnson. 

Jacob Williamson. 

Chanell Perez Ortiz. 

Ashia Davis. 

Banko Brown. 

Rasheeda “Koko Da Doll” Williams. 

Ashley Burton. 

Tasiyah “Siyah” Woodland. 

Tortuguita. 

Cashay B. Henderson. 

Imanitwitaho Zachee. 

Maria Fer. 

Jasmine “Star” Mack. 

Unique Banks. 

Say these names in your heart. Know that theirs was a life that was beautiful and should not have been taken away by a person with hate in their heart and fear in their mind. Recognize the fact that the largest percentage of these victims were black women by far. The oldest one of them was only 41 years old, 5 years older than me. Most were in their twenties. Some were in their teens. All were beautiful. All were born with innate divinity, the same innate divinity that dwells in each of us, the same image of the transcendent God that created all of us.  

Remember them. Feel the weight of them. It’s a heavy load to bear, and much more than the community can stand. We are in an era of rapidly increasing transphobia. There is a concerted effort to mandate us out of existence legally. I honestly am somewhat afraid of coming home for Christmas this year because of my running into the wrong person while trying to spend time with my loved ones. (Then I remember it will be in Austin, and that’s probably as safe as it gets for gender-nonconforming individuals, and I relax, but it’s still by a slim margin.) 

Before the day of remembrance is Trans Awareness Week. What's funny is before the past couple of years, I would rate everyone’s awareness of transgender people as relatively low, until certain lawmakers decided to make it an enormous issue. The truth of it is that trans people have always existed. We’ve always been there. Going back thousands of years, in cultures all over the globe, you will find trans people in history, if you look for them. Even going back, a couple of decades, yeah, things weren’t great for trans people, but mostly it was because people didn’t know what we were. People lived entire lives, not being free to be themselves. Now, we have people trying to educate people so that kids like me might understand more about themselves, and in response to simply new, better information about transgender identities, people react with hatred.  

The thing about transgender people that I’m learning every day is that they are some of the bravest people I know. It takes bravery to ask yourself the hard questions about your identity. It takes bravery to live authentically as you are meant to be.  

I was afraid that I didn’t have it in me to be brave enough to be trans. 

But it doesn’t matter if I’m brave. It matters that I live. It matters that I exist. I’m extremely lucky, and privileged, to be where I am. To have lived the life I have lived is an extraordinary blessing. To have a family that still loves me and supports me is a blessing beyond measure. To have a partner who is willing to support me is an even greater blessing. So many trans kids and adults don’t have that. So many are turned out into a cold world that doesn’t want to make space for them. So many people would rather we did not exist. 

The truth is, we do exist. And no matter how much they can try to legislate us out of existence, there will always be trans people. That’s the truth that cannot be erased or ignored. Just like I couldn’t ignore the truth about my gender identity, we as a people can’t ignore the hatred and violence that is done to trans people all the time. We cannot ignore the concerted effort by a few hateful individuals whose world is so small they cannot appreciate the infinite amount of beauty that trans people give to the world just by our existence.  

I’m writing this because I want to make sure at the very least that I remember my siblings who have gone before me—those who face hatred and violence because of the small-minded hatred of bigots. Our world is so much more beautiful for us living in it.  

May we one day live in a world where we no longer need to remember the lives of those killed because of anti-transgender hatred.  

_________________________________________________ 

*Names retrieved from https://glaad.org/tdor-memoriam/. 

#transgender #blog #lgbtqia+ #trans day of remembrance #trans visibility

[loveneversleepss]

Felix as Yandere

Genre: Yandere!Felix x princess!female reader, old royalty era, arranged marriage ish?, tragic romance, Felix saves reader, switch povs.

warnings: suicidal thoughts/actions, angst, stalking, obsession, killing, descriptions of blood/gore, smut(duh), nicknames (sweetheart,Angel,wife), unprotected sex, oral (fem rec).

About 7500 words, I'm so sorry😭

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"When I think of you, I have another reason to live."

How could it come to this? The one person who has never once shown a frown, is giving up on life. I will help you, make you happy.

~~

"My lord.." I'm awakened to the sound of my servant. My eyes open slowly, the blackness fading away. He bows to me, "Sorry for disturbing your slumber, my lord." I get up, sighing heavily, "It's alright. What is it?" He stands up straight now, bringing his hands together. I bring my hands to my face, rubbing my eyes as my eyes are blurry from sleep. At the edge of the bed, my silk sheets are on the verge of collapsing off the ledge. He clears his throat before he begins to speak, "Lord bahng summons you to the tea room."

I groan and throw my sheets back on top of me. Lord Bahng. Also know as Chan, my most dearest friend since I was a child. We met during a festival. It was dark and I was lost. I was running around looking for my father. He had told me to stay close but I wandered off, chasing after my wooden ball. Once I retrieved it, I found myself lost. No clue where I was. I bundled up in a corner and sobbed tragically. Next thing I knew, a figure appeared in front of me. It was him.

~~

“Why are you crying?” I looked up from my hands, which are covered in tears. A boy stands in front of me with the most curious look. He looks a few years older than me. He bends down to my level and smiles slightly. “It’s okay. I can help you.” He reaches out his hand, although I don’t move to grab onto it. He slowly retrieves it back, “what’s your name?” I sniffle softly as I try to gain the strength to mumble my name, “Felix..” I say barely audible, he tilts his head. “Chicken?” He furrows his brows at me. I shoot him a glare and a big smile appears on his lips. “It’s Felix!” I yell to him and stand up angrily.

He looks at the ground and picks up my ball. “Well.. hello, Felix. I’m Chan.” He holds out the ball to me. I grab it swiftly and turn away from him. I begin to walk but stop. I have no idea where I am. Maybe.. he can help. I turn back to him and he is still looking at me. I bring my head down, feeling embarrassed that I just lashed out at him and are about to ask for help. “Sorry, that wasn’t kind of me.” I apologize sincerely and he waves it off. “How about we go eat some sweets, hm?” I bite my bottom lip at his offer. Just then my tummy grumbles, it has been a while since I’ve last eaten. I nod my head and his arm swings around me. “We’re going to have fun.”

~~

After that, I’ve been in his debt. Always wanting to please him and his wishes. I truly owe him for that day. I never felt seen before. With him in my life, I truly gained a brother. Although at times, he is a pain. “My lord, please.” I ignore him and try to fall back into my dream.

The dream that occurs every night, that haunts me. It's always the same. I'm laying on my back, my vision is foggy. A woman appears above me, speaking so softly. So delicate. Her hands touch my face, tender and warm. She strokes my cheek. “Are you hurt?” Her voice is one of angels, I could listen to it all day. Her scent is of jasmine flowers. Her whole demeanor is something heavenly. Despite all this, her face I could never see clearly. That is what keeps me up, I could swear that this isn’t a dream. More like a memory.

A memory that is deep within me. That wants me to remember but I can’t. It pains me deeply. If I could only see her face. My problem would be solved. And if she lived in my world. I would search to the ends to find her. To make her mine. I know it sounds silly. But I think I may have loved her at one point.

A loud slam comes from within the room. Next thing, I’m thrown off the bed. I turn quickly to see the culprit to see Chan standing above me. “Why are you so lazy?” I groan and stand up on my feet. “Why must you always be up so early? Do you even sleep?” I respond back and flop on my bed again. He pulls me by my feet and drags me off the bed. “Come on, we have to leave soon.” I stay on the ground as I look at him in disgust. “Where to?”

He begins to drag me by my feet, walking me out to the hallway. “To find you a suitor.” My eyes widen and I kick away his hand. I stand up swiftly, “have you lost it?!” He sets his hands behind his back, “no. It’s about time that you find a betrothed.” I groan as I step away to find the kitchen. He follows closely behind, “you are of age now. You’re the richest in the country. Talented. Handsome. You have plenty of ladies lining up for you.” I ignore him as I order the servants to make me breakfast.

I sit down at the table, pulling the chair out and laying my head in my hands. Chan continues blabbering about a suitor, even though I drown him out. He sighs heavily, finally noticing I’m not listening, “look, I know that you don’t care. But you need to do this, for your father.” I grab the knife that is with the rest of the cutlery, “you’re lucky I’m not throwing this at your head right now.” He rolls his eyes and confines, “I know that you believe your are destined to be with that woman in your dream. But face the truth, she doesn’t exist.”

Maybe he is right. What if she doesn’t exist? That she is just a figment of my imagination. “It’s just that.. maybe if I encounter her. I would recognize her on the spot. That i could remember..” My expression saddens as does the rest of the room. “Listen. You have to to find a suitor. You are the head of the mansion. Your father always wanted to see you marry well. You have to fulfill his wish.” I roll my eyes. How could I forget that? It was his dying wish. Of course I have to grant it. But this doesn’t mean I have to forget about that woman.

He pats my back, “tonight, we are invited to banquet at the imperial palace.” I look at him not impressed. He groans loudly and steps back. ��Don’t you know what this means?! You’ll get to see the crown princess perform.” I lean back in the chair as the servants come and set the food. He looks at me eagerly, awaiting my response. “I suppose that could be interesting. They say she’s the best dancer in the whole country.” He jumps in excitement, “that’s right! I’ll prepare the gifts.”

~~

All your life, you've felt empty. Like something was missing. You were always waiting for something. Although you didn't know what. You were taught from a young age to keep a smile on your face. To never let it fall. You were taught to be quiet and never speak up for yourself. You had to be the perfect easy child. Meanwhile your younger siblings had freedom to do whatever they wanted. But you could never say anything about it or how you felt. Because after all, how could the crown princess be upset?

Dancing was a way for you to get your mind off of things, Somehow dancing was something no one could get in the way in. Your body always knew what they were doing. How it worked to shape it into the move you wanted. Always letting your body lead and your mind go. Letting all your thoughts slip away. Quiet. You like quiet.

"Crown Princess. Your father invites you to go to the marketplace with him." Maybe a couple months ago, or even a year ago. You would be bursting with joy. But you're not. That's because whenever your father invites you out. It causes such a spectacle that you have to return home quickly. After all, you don't want to anger him. "I accept. help me get ready." "Yes, princess."

~

"How are you doing today, my child?" Your father asks you, fanning himself lightly. You shoot him a reassuring smile, "I feel happy. I'm performing today for you." His clothing waves softly in the wind, his hair looks smooth and well kept. He always looks so clean. After all, he is the king. "Do you know why I'm holding a banquet today?" His tone sounds indifferent, like his usual business talk when he's with lords and nobles. You look at him confused, "No, father. Why are you holding a banquet today?"

He stops in his tracks, "Shall we eat something?" You don't question his hesitation to answer. You know better than to do that. In time, he will tell you. There must be a reason why he wants to sit in a secluded place. "of course, I'm craving meat." You two follow after your servants. Everywhere you go, servants and guards always go too. For your protection of course. Even though you'd rather not have them stealing your oxygen. You feel as if you are suffocating at times.

Platters and platters of dishes are set in front of you. You wait until your father first takes a bite which takes about 20 minutes. Due to him being bothered by multiple lords greeting him. You don't take a bite, you instead take a sip of your water. After a couple minutes you find the courage to pop the question. "Father, why are you holding the banquet today?" He wipes his face and takes a sip of water. His eyebrows furrowed, as if he is nervous of what he is about to say.

"Well as you know, you've become of age.." No way. He wouldn't. How could he do this? You assume the worst to come.

"I've invited suitors for you. For you to get married." Your heart sinks to your stomach at his words. You place your hands on the table in disbelief. You get up swiftly, scaring your father slightly, "How could you do this to me?! I'm not ready for this. I refuse!" You let your words slip out of your mouth, not letting your mind think to stop them. "Watch your tongue!" Your father looks at you angrily, "You will. That's an order." You feel your emotions feel to leave you, guilt becoming you. Your gaze falls to the floor, your body is emotionless.

He gets up slowly, walking over to you. His hands place on your shoulders, attempting to soothe you. "I know this isn't what you want. But i'm getting old. I wish to see you marry well. Could you do this for me?" You nod your head yes, you plaster a smile on your face, "yes, father. I will do this for you."

~~

I arrive shortly to the palace, we all wait outside waiting for the doors to open. It seems as if all the nobles and lords have come. I wonder what for? Isn't this just an ordinary banquet. how peculiar.

The gates open and everyone immediately makes their way inside. Chan led the way as I analyzed the surroundings. How lucky it would be to live here. They have everything. The servants show us to a table, it's placed right in front of the stage. A perfect view to see the princess. After a couple minutes, I begin to grow bored. "I'm going to walk around." Chan begins to protest but I already left him.

"Please get down, i'm begging you." I notice a girl in a tree, she seems to be writing something. Her legs dangle from the tree, moving happily. "Oh, shush. I'll be down in a second." She has a cloth on her face, her eyes only being prominent. She giggles as I see a servant trying to persuade her to get down. Her clothing looks expensive, not the kind that should be climbing into trees. "Please, you have to get ready." She sighs heavily and begins to get up. Her foot slips and she goes tumbling down to the ground.

I ran over to her, "Are you alright?!" I reached my hand out to help her. She looks at it for a couple seconds, then decides not to take it. She gets up using her own strength. I bring my hand down, feeling slightly awkward that she refused me. "I'm fine." Her tone sounds annoyed, enough to send a tingle down my core. "I need to go." She mumbles as a servant follows after her. Who was that?

~

I walked back shortly after that. Chan grumbles about something but I ignore it as my thoughts cloud my mind. Who was that? Why was she climbing in a tree? She spoke so rudely to me. As if I was below her, her tone irritates me. I should've reminded her of her manners. I am the highest ranking lord in the country. How could she speak to me like that? Unless.. She's the crown princess. No way. The princess would have better manners. Although that would explain the servant and clothing.

Chan interrupts my thoughts, "It's starting!" He loudly whispers to me. My gaze turns to the stage in front of me. The lanterns start to dim softly. A soft melody plays from the harp, a woman appears. Her clothes are long and flowy, a perfect baby blue color. Her movements are soft and controlled. Mesmerizing. It's as if i never knew how to breathe before, and she is teaching me. Her eyes are heavenly, her lips perfectly plumed, her skin seems so soft and delicate. Her body chimes with her movements due to her crown and beads placed on her dress. A flock of birds are set into the air and they surround her. Circling around her and her movements.

A heavenly sight. She looks familiar.. It hits me. The girl from my dream. It's her! My head begins to feel foggy and I find myself breathing heavily. "Felix. Are you alright?" Chan whispers to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. I nod my head and took a sip of water to calm me down. I finally found her. Just then, the performance ends. She bows on the floor, her crown jiggles softly. The audience stands up and cheers for her. She smiles big at us, her father, the king appears. We immediately bow to him and he announces, "Greetings, my fellow lords. Today I've invited you for a reason. I am offering the crown princess hand in marriage." There is murmurs that surrounds us.

It hits me. This could be my chance to make myself known to her. "I will invite you one by one to introduce yourself. Please enjoy the festivities and food." They turn to leave as we bow again. It takes a while to get to me as I begin to grow annoyed. I'm about to wander around as a child appears in front of me. He is crying. He jumps into my arms as he sobs loudly. "I don't want to!" He yells, presumably to the servant who is standing here now. “Please, my prince.” My hands rub softly on his head as he pulls off my shoulder. Prince? This must be the third born prince, Daniel. He stares up at me with his big teary eyes, sniffles emerging from him. “It’s alright. Don’t be sad.”

He seems to calm down and sigh heavily. “What’s the matter, hm?” His tiny hands move to my face. “You have pretty scars.” He traces my cheeks. He means my freckles. I chuckle softly, “and you cute cheeks.” I squeeze his cheek softly. He groans and pours his lower lip. “I’m not a baby. I’m a grown man!” I smile again at his attempt of acting big. “Is that so? Then why are you crying? Adults share what they are feeling to feel better.” He fiddles with his fingers, “they were forcing me to go to bed.” He looks sad now, “I wanted my sister to read me to bed. She always reads me the stories she writes. But they said she’s busy.”

Now I get it. That’s why she was in the tree giggling about. She was writing a story for him. “How about I put you to bed, hm? I could read a story although mine won’t be as good as your sister.” He nods his head happily, a smile gleaming up at me. “Let’s go!” His little hand pulls onto my shirt as he leads me to his room. A figure stops us. “Daniel. What are you doing?” It’s the crown princess. He jumps into her arms and hugs her tightly. “Have you come to read me a story?” He asks eagerly. She shakes her head no and you can see his mood drop. “I’m busy tonight. I have to talk with, lord.. what’s your name?”

“Felix,” I take a step closer and bow. Daniel gets angry and hugs onto my leg. “No! You can’t have him. I found him first!” A figure appears from behind the princess. “Daniel! What are you doing out?” The king emerges from the shadows. I now to him and he shakes me off. “Get to bed right now!” Daniel quickly runs off and disappears. “Sorry about him. He’s still learning.” The crown princess explains. I nod my head, “it’s alright. It was a pleasure.” She’s different from earlier, her mood seems to be more calm, a smile soft on her lips. The servants invite me into a room due to its my turn. “How did you think of my daughter’s dance?” The king asks me as we sit down at a table. “Oh, it was the most heavenly thing I’ve set my eyes on. No one can compare to it. You really are talented, princess!”

“Everyone’s replaceable,” she says brightly. Not once letting the smile fall from her lips. “One day I will grow old and my beauty will fade. Then a new imperial performer will take my place.” She fans herself lightly, the beads on her dress jingle a wonderful tune softly. Her face seems to be stuck in a permanent smile, although her eyes seem to give her away. They look off. Deeply empty. Not a single thought behind them. But I notice at times they seem sad, on the verge of tears.

The king tries to explain his daughter’s words, “what she means is that once she marries, she hopes that her legacy will be carried on.” Her father shoots her an scolding look. She keeps the smile on her face as she pours me a cup to tea. “Daniel seems to be fond of you..” Her eyes are looking at the cup, then they shoot up to mine. A slight devious and twinkle shine in them. I smile softly, “he jumped into my arms and claimed he wasn’t being treated well. I was going to read him a story to help him sleep.” The king tilts his head slightly, “that’s odd. He usually doesn’t like strangers.” I nod my head and take a sip of the tea. It’s a familiar taste but there’s a slight alter to it. Like a splash of honey or cinnamon to make it sweet.

“Lord Felix, is it?” The king questions softly, his voice seems to be tired. From excessive talking all night. “Yes, my king.” He fiddles with a bead hanging from his belt. “You’re the son of the late Lord Lee, correct?” I nod my head yes once again, “correct.” He smiles softly, “you’re father and I were childhood friends. Did he ever tell you?” That’s odd. I would’ve remembered if my father told me something like that. You don’t casually be old friends with the king and not tell.

“No, he didn’t. I wasn’t close with my father,” I stutter a bit at the end. The reason being that my father trained me to become an assassin. Killing for his pleasure. I shut my eyes in embarrassment as I realize I may have shared too much. “Is that so? Why?” I glance over at the princess, her lips have fallen into a sullen upturned smile, almost unnatural. Her eyebrows furrowed softly as her eyes appear to be deeply stuck into mine. “I always had this pressure.. To be the best. I’m the only boy and have only younger sisters. I have to carry on the legacy.” My eyes widen and I bow quickly, “forgive me for oversharing, my king.”

He waves me off once again, “no need for that. I want to know more about you.” I lift my head up and smile softly. I take another sip of the tea, “Felix?” I nod my head in response. “Would you be interested in marrying my daughter?” I nearly spat out the tea. I’m shook at his words. “Oh, that wasn’t my intention.” He interrupts me, “well why not? You seem to get along well with my children. Plus it would do your father proud that you married well. I would be him a favor.” I seem to be not able to get away from my fathers grasp, even in death. “Forgive me, my king,” I set the cup down and it clicks. “I have to refuse, I don’t have intentions of marrying.” He pouts his lip out, like a sad toddler. “Well at least spend the night.” I nod my head, “I accept your invitation.”

~~

You walk slowly to your room. Servants following close behind you. Processing everything that has happened in the past few hours. Men throwing themselves at you. All for a marriage you don’t want. But it’s bizarre. A man actually dared to go against your father, the king. Lord Felix. He doesn’t interest you in the slightest but you can’t seem to get your mind off him. His looks are fairly attractive but something seems off. He has this aura that is.. dark. Like he’s hiding something.

You enter in your bedroom, but you don’t rest or begin to undress. You stare out the balcony, the moon looks dashing tonight. Accompanied by many stars. How it would be to leave the world on a night like this. “My princess, the tea you ordered.” Your hand maid calls you over as holds the tray. “Mm, lay it on the table please.” Your table looks out onto the balcony, perfect view of the night sky. You walk over and sit on the chair. You tidy up the table as you softly blow on the fresh, hot tea. Your hand maiden stands a few feet away from you also accompanied by 5 servants. You hate the feeling of having eyes on you, watching your every move.

“Leave us,” you command your servants, leaving you and your handmaiden alone. “Have you enjoyed the festivities?” You ask her, pouring your tea into your cup. “No, princess. I haven’t had the chance.” You look over your shoulder to her, she has her hands neatly placed in her lap. “Go, take the night off. I won’t be going anywhere anyways.” She bows her head strongly, “thank you, my princess. I’ll take my leave.” She silently walks away and you hear the shut of the door. You sigh heavily as you stare out into the night. You take the tiny bottle you’ve kept all night by your side. You pour it inside the cup. The colorless poison seeps into the tea.

You take a look around the room as you see nothing. Just as you wanted it. Destined to be alone, even in death. It may seem selfish, but this is your freedom. And it’s the only way you’re gonna get it. Although.. you wish you had one thing. You want to fall in love. Why can't you? When you are one of the people who is in love with the idea of love, desiring love more than anything? It feels like you're sitting in a glass box watching everyone going happily with their lovers but you're just there alone, under the moon light. Maybe you are meant to be alone..

“I’m sorry, Daniel.” You whisper as you bring the tea to your lips. You’re about to take a sip when the cup is knocked out of your hands.

~~

I knock the cup of poison out her hand. It rolls against the floor, the liquid seeping out of it. She looks angry to me, streams of tears on her cheeks. She makes a run for the terrace. She begins to climb on the edge as I run up to her. I embrace her in my arms and pull her away. She kicks and cries out, “let me go. I don’t wish to live anymore!”

“Stop this!” I yell as I hold her onto the ground. My arms wrapped around her to calm her down. She kicks and scratches but I don’t let her go. She calms down as I hear our breathings hard. I let go of her softly and she crawls a foot away from me. Her eyes are empty as her upper lip makes a movement upwards. Pure disgust.

“Hypocrite.” She grits her teeth. I look at her confused and she stares in complete disgust. “You should’ve let me die.” I shake my head at her words. How could she be like this? She never once let a smile off her face. Even when she was being insulted or insulting herself. Why would she be giving up on life? “No, you’re life is too important..” I try to console her but it doesn’t work. My throat feels as if it’s clogged.

“Why is it that my feelings don’t matter! Why do I always have to be the one that pushes it aside. That i can’t make mistakes or do something I want. Why is it always me?!” Her voice breaks during her last sentence. Tears begin to flow and she sobs loudly, her body shaking. My eyes soften at her words. “I just want to be free..” I slowly bring myself closer to her. Whispering a soft, "Breathe for me, okay?" Hugging her close, stroking the top of her head as she muffles out her cries in my clothing. "Deep breaths.." She stops after half an hour. She slowly moves away from me, her eyes red and puffy. She wipes her tears away.

“Thank you.. for staying with me.” She mumbles but I hear it clearly. I wipe away a leftover tear off her cheek, her eyes stare into mine. Appreciation. “Of course. I care about you,” her eyes flicker down to what I assume is my lips. Her hand comes up to my cheek now, grazing softly against my freckles. “You’re really pretty.” My eyes widen at her words, feeling hot on my ears and cheeks. Although i don’t pull away. “Felix?” I’m surprised she didn’t use manners in calling me lord but I nod in response. “Why did you come to my room?”

I quickly think of an excuse. I can’t tell her that I’ve been following her all night. That I was watching her this whole time and that’s why I came in a rush. Since I saw her in the tree. That is how I knew where her room was. And how to avoid all the servants and guards. Thankfully, I had a backup plan just in case. I lift up out of my pocket a jade bracelet, she looks down at her wrist where it is missing. “I found this and saw the name, y/n. I wanted to return it to you.”

“Thank you,” she smiles softly and reaches out her arm for me to slip the bracelet back on. I slowly slip it back on and the heavy weight of the bracelet makes it droop on her wrist. Her eyes slowly travel back up to mine, “you’ve helped me twice tonight.” I laugh softly, “although you didn’t want my help, remember?” She nods and smiles once again, this time it doesn’t seem fake, “I wish you did have an intention of marrying. You would be a good husband.” Her words make my heart begin to beat faster, it seems as if there is this warm, pink aura between us now.

“I should sleep. It’s getting late.” She gets up but I grab her wrist. “You won’t pull anything rash, right.” She nods her head slowly, “I promise.” I get up and bid her goodnight. I’m about to walk out the door and she runs to me. “Come back in the morning, sneak in.” I agree and leave to my room. Smiling happily. She’s mine now.

~~~

“Oh, you’re here.” It was a harsh mission to sneak I to her room. It seems more heavily guarded today. I had to slit some of their throats to keep it quiet. Stuffing them into a closet. Their blood stained my shoes so I had to run back to change them “Yes, how are you feeling today?” She grabs ahold of my hand and leads me to her bed. She sits down and pats the bed for me to sit beside her. “I’m feeling much better.. thanks to you.” I feel slightly nervous at her words. She’s really thankful for me.

~~

You think you’ve finally find the person you’ve been waiting for. Lord Felix. The aura you felt earlier is no longer there. You assumed wrong. He isn’t dark, but a kind and pure soul. You wish he was the one you were going to marry. I mean it doesn’t hurt to ask again. What’s the worst that’ll happen?

~~

“Felix, are you sure you don’t want to marry?” She softly whispers to me, her voice innocent, slightly scared of what I’m going to say.

“Well, I'm open to the idea. I just didn’t want it to be forced upon you. Your opinion matters.” I didn't realize how important my words were to her. Her eyes begin to tear up, “for the first time..” her voice begins to break, “i feel like I’m actually seen for once, heard.” Her hands are both placed on the sides of my face. She sighs happily, “Felix. I want to marry you.” I’m taken aback at her words. The woman from my dream is actually asking to marry me. I mumble a simple, “I want more than anything to make you happy.." I stand up and get on my knee in front of her.

Taking hold of her hand around mine, "If you want it, will you marry me, y/n?" She jumps into my arms, her grip strong, clinging onto me. She screams in excitement, "Yes! Yes! Of course I'll marry you!" I swing her around in my arms then gently let her on the ground. She stares up into my eyes, then she proceeds to jump into my arms again. Causing me to stumble back against the board of the bed. I fall onto my back as her body is on top of mine.

She pulls away giggling, “you’re mine now.” She mumbled softly. I almost didn’t hear it right. But I definitely understood it. She’s claiming me. "let me see your face," I whisper to her and she pulls away to look at me. My hand cups her face as she leans into my touch. I place a soft kiss to her cheek, her eyes widen. She quickly pulls off me and lands on her feet. I sat up to see what was wrong, to see that her face had turned visibly red.

"your brother is gonna kill me when he finds out." I joke with her and she lets a smile slip. "He apparently 'found me first'." She walks a little closer, "Well I met you first." Her expression is slightly annoyed. I chuckle lightly as she appears to be jealous. "Come here," I softly bring her by her waist. Her legs go to the side of my thighs, lightly sitting in my lap. Her face starts to become more red and she looks away. I turn her head back to me with her chin, "Am I making you nervous?" She nods her head slowly, "I get nervous looking at you." She reluctantly admits.

"This was never supposed to happen," I tilt my head to her in confusion. "What was?" She smiles as her finger softly traces my freckles once again, "Me falling for you." I smile and her finger goes over my lips, my bottom lip moving from her touch. It's so hard to resist. To resist myself not to take her right now. To have my lips on hers. To hear her little purrs of pleasure. My name falling off of her lips. Her body fits so perfectly in my hands. She was made for me.

"Kiss me, Felix." Her arms wrap around my neck, "Please." The look in her eyes is so hypnotizing. I grant her wish as our lips connect. Her lips are soft, like a pillow, melting into mine. My hand pulls her body closer to me, a soft grunt escapes from inside me. Her hands make their way into my hair, she softly tugs on it. I reluctantly pull away from her lips., our mouths still in close proximity. "Say stop and I will," I mumble against her lips. She shakes her head at me. "Keep going," she leans into my lips again.

Her body begins to rock against mine. The situation is starting to get more intense. My tongue softly slips into her mouth. Our tongues melt into each other, sharing our desire for each other. Passionate. I want this feeling to last forever. A small noise escapes her, my heart drops. So, this is how you sound. Your noises will be forever implanted in my mind. "We need to stop," I whisper as my lips trail wet kisses down her neck. "Don't stop," a short whimper leaves her lips as I softly nibbled on a spot. Her sweet spot. I continue to work on that spot, her hips dragging against mine.

"You're so beautiful," I mumble against her skin. Another sound leaves her with my praise. Do you like this? You like being praised? "I'm so lucky," I continue, her forehead falls into the crook of my neck. Causing me to stop my kisses. "My wife." She faces me again, her eyes so full of love. "What?" I question softly, she hugs me close to her. Eliminating all of the desire we had. "I'm so glad I found you." I smile brightly as she looks at me once again.

"Now the hard part.." She takes a heavy sigh, "telling my father and my brother." I laughed and nod my head. "I can handle that."

~~

“That does sound like Chan.” Felix laughs as he brings a cup of tea to his lips. We're currently discussing the last arrangements for the wedding, although your father keeps bringing up memories of the past. The big day is tomorrow. Felix is practically glowing. A cheeky smile on his lips, occasional looks in your direction. Although, you pretend not to notice. "Are you excited?" Your father asks Felix. He nods his head and replies, "How could I not be? I'm marrying the love of my life." You assumed he was looking at the table through the corner of your eye as you heard his words.

But he isn’t looking at the table. You can now feel his gaze toward the side of your face. You glance up to meet his eye, your insides turning to mush and butterflies roaming around. You shyly look away. Your father chuckles softly, "that's what I like to hear." He brings his cup to his lips and takes a sip. "I'm so glad you two are marrying. I couldn't imagine anyone better than you for my daughter." He smiles as he bows, "I thank you for accepting me." He makes eye contact with you once again and he winks. Causing a smile to appear on your lips.

~

You're back in your room, sleep is not on your mind. You stare out on the balcony, admiring the room. "You're supposed to be in bed." You hear a voice say to you, immediately recognizing Felix's voice. "Couldn't sleep," His arms wrap around your waist. His head nuzzles into the crook of your neck, "me either." Every other night, Felix sneaks into your room. It's the usual for you two, to either talk or fall asleep holding each other. "It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding," you turn to look at him. "Hm, wedding's tomorrow." He holds you close, placing a kiss to your lips. You haven't had a kiss in a while, not one even close to the first time you two shared a kiss from that morning. You desire a kiss like that again.

"What is it?" He holds your cheek, forcing you to look at him. You respond after thinking about what to say for a couple seconds, "I crave you, Lix." This isn't the first time you called him Lix. A nickname that had stuck after that morning, after you had breakfast with him. You notice his eyes widen a bit and he looks down. "We shouldn't," he shakes his head. Although, you can clearly tell he wants to. "I'll be your bride tomorrow, It won't matter," You try to convince him. "Please," you say softly, it feels as if you've been defeated. "You're my everything, my Angel."

His hands lift you up, one hand tucked under your legs and one on your back. Your hands quickly wrap around his neck. He sits you on your table, his eyes looking deeply into yours. "Are you sure you want to do this?" You nod your head quickly. "Words, angel." You whisper a soft, "I want to do this. I want you." He quickly moves his lips onto yours. He slides you to the edge of the table, his body closer to yours. Your legs opened as he set himself there. Your lips moving fast together, your body begins to burn with desire.

Your hands tangle into his hair, he softly grunts in your mouth. His hands roam around your body, not knowing where to touch. His hand sets on the bow holding your dress together. He pulls it off softly and it lands on the table slowly. Your dress begins to slowly slip off your body. His mouth moves onto your exposed skin, nibbling along your collarbones slowly. His body grinds against yours, making butterflies appear. Your groin aches with desire, desperately wanting to be touched. Small and short whimpers leave your mouth.

His hand traces along your leg, slowly creeping up. It reaches your inner thigh and he caresses it teasingly. "touch me," you begged him. "Please.." His hand grabs ahold of your undergarment as he slides it down. It falls on the floor and he's reaching to pull your dress off. He stops beforehand, "Can I?" You nod your head, your head feels cloudy with lust. He pulls your dress off of you and it lays underneath you. Your body on full display now for him. He groans at sight as he leans down to meet your below. He licks a strip up as your body reacts heavily. A gasp leaves you as he does it again.

A sharp spark hits you as he grazes upon something. A new sweet spot of yours. He begins to suck there and your body trembles. It feels so good. His tongue and mouth move along as you cover your mouth. Noises and whimpers leaving you like crazy. You feel his finger enter inside you as your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your back begins to arch as the pleasure is becoming immense. Your hips roll along his finger as you feel another add in. You feel this knot in your lower tummy as the pleasure increases. You beg him to keep going and the knot unravels. Your body shaking crazily and the feeling addicting. You feel a liquid seeping out of you.

Felix comes up to your face as he kisses you. You can taste yourself along his lips. You grip against his clothes, "n-not fair." You stuttered at your slightly weak state. He chuckles softly as he begins to pull his clothes off. Once his shirt leaves his body, you see how fit he is. The sight is so mesmerizing. You softly run your hands along his body. He pulls you to sit up as you're at the edge of the table again. "This might hurt a bit." You nod your head in understanding. You didn't even realize that he had fully stripped already. He slowly edges inside you. Your mouth falls agape at the feeling of him stretching you out.

His head falls into the crook of your neck, trying his best to resist thrusting. When you're ready, you tell him. He pulls almost all the way out and pushes back inside of you. A moan escapes as the feeling is superior. He begins a steady pace as your fingernails dig into his skin. Encouraging him to keep going. He hisses as he can feel you tightly clenching around him. "God, you feel so good." His head falls back, pure bliss on his face. The knot forms again but you try to hold out for him. Your back arches as your lips attach together. Pure tongue and lust. He knows you're holding out for him, so he starts to rub circles around your sweet spot. You whimper in his mouth and you have to pull away to breathe.

The sounds of your skin slapping together and the lewd noises of your bodies are so manipulative. You want to do this forever. The knot threatens to rip as your mouth produces screams of Felix's name. Finally it breaks as your body trembles once again. It causes Felix to finish as well. His hand places on the table to hold you two up. You both stay there as you try to get your breathing controlled. "We need to do this again," you giggle out and he smiles.

Your hands cup his face, "I love you." His eyes soften and he kisses your swollen lips. He mumbles, "I love you more," against your lips.

~~

Your maids are setting the finishing pieces to your wedding gown as you admire yourself in the mirror. They finish and you order them to leave. You can't believe this. Finally, the day has come.

You hear footsteps approaching from behind you and you assume it’s your brother coming to call you. You turn to see a man in all black. A mask covers his face completely. “Felix?” The man charges at you and next thing you know. A blade is struck into your stomach. You tumble backwards into the table. Causing glass to fall down and shatter. The assassin leaves through the balcony and your body falls to the ground. Your brother comes running into the room with multiple servants.

They call out for help and for a doctor. Your family runs into the room. Then you see him, Felix. He runs to you, dressed in his groom attire. You smile at him as a tear falls down your cheek, he hugs you close to your body. “This is all my fault,” his voice breaks as tears appear in his eyes. You stroke his cheek, smearing your blood onto him. “It’s not your fault.” You say weakly, blood begins to fill your mouth. It seeps down from your lips.

“Live for me. Live for the both of us,” he begs, tears fall down uncontrollably. “I need you here. Please don’t leave me!” Your lip quivers as your hear his pleas. “You have to let me go.” He sobs so loud now, “I don’t want to let you go!” Your hands reach up to his lips, forcing his lips into a smile. “Don’t be sad.” Your eyes feel heavy. “Kiss me, one more time.” He grants your wish as he places a kiss onto yours. Blood now staining his lips. “I love you, Felix.”

Your eyes close, the memory of Felix staying. Your life flashes. All the memories flood all at once. The most memorable were the ones with Felix. You feel yourself smile and let go. Goodbye, Felix. In another life, my love.

~~~~

A/N~ can you Guess who the killer was?

#stray kids #stray kids stay #stray kids imagines #stray kids series #straykids hard hours #stray kids smut #skz scenarios #straykids smut #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz smut #skz #lee felix #lee felix smut #felix smut #lee yongbok smut #bang chan

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Machiko Kyō (Rashomon, Floating Weeds, Older Brother Younger Sister)— Considered an early sex symbol in Japanese cinema. Also just an ethereal beauty who can also go feral/unhinged in a glorious way.

Judy Garland (Meet Me In St. Louis, A Star is Born, Summer Stock)— Judy is the GOAT when it comes to classic movie musicals. The voice of an angel who deserved so much better than she got. She can sing she can dance she can act she's a triple threat. Though she had a turbulent personal life (her treatment as a child star by the studio system makes me mad as hell like Louis b Mayer fight me ((she was made to believe that she was physically unattractive by the constant criticism of film executives who made her feel ugly and who manipulated her onscreen appearance by capping her teeth and using discs in her nose to change its shape and Mayer called her "my little hunchback" like imagine hearing that as a child and not having damage)) she always goddamn delivered on screen and in any performance she gave. She began in vaudeville performing with her sisters and was signed to MGM at 13. Starting out in supporting parts especially paired with mickey Rooney in a bunch of films (she's the best part tbh) she eventually transferred to the lead role. She is best known for her starring role in movie musicals like the iconic Wizard of Oz (somewhere over the rainbow still hits hard and is ranked the top film song of all time), meet me in St. Louis (Judy singing have your self a merry little Christmas brings tears to the eyes she is that powerful), the Harvey girls (she looks like a technicolor dream and sings a catchy af song about trains), Easter parade ( dancing and singing with Fred Astaire), for me and my gal, the pirate, and summer stock ( with pal Gene Kelly who she helped when he was starting out and he helped her when she was struggling). But she also does non- singing just as well like the clock ( her first movie where she sings no songs and is an underrated ww2 era romance), her Oscar nominated a star is born ( like the man that got away she put her whole soul in that and I have beef with the fact she lost to grace kelly ((whom I love but like still not even her best work)), and judgement at Nuremberg (a courtroom drama about the nazi war criminal trials). Outside of film she made concert appearances to record-breaking audiences, released 8 studio albums, and had her own Emmy-nominated tv series. She was the youngest (39) and first female recipient of the Cecil B DeMille award for lifetime achievement in the film industry. Girl was a lifelong democrat and was a financial and moral supporter of many causes including the civil rights movement (she was at the March on Washington and held a press conference to protest the 16th street Baptist church bombings). She was a friend of the Kennedy family and would call jfk weekly often ending the calls by singing the first few lines of somewhere over the rainbow (she thought of them as Gemini twins).She was a member of the committee for the first amendment which was formed in response to the HUAC investigations. Though she died far too young and tragically she remains an icon for her work and her life. As a girl who didn't feel like i was as pretty as everyone else I have always felt a connection to Judy and I just really love her.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Machiko Kyō:

Judy:

Judy's voice alone qualifies her for at least top ten hottest HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMEN. She was a truly incredible swing singer, with a stunning voice on top of her technique. Her short dark hair looked incredible in just about any style. Have I mentioned her swagger? I can’t do it justice with words. She had swagger. She was funny as hell, and clever too. Incredibly charming and cool. I adore her.

Her eyes, her voice have bewitched me

I mean how can you beat the one and only Judy? She's beautiful, her smile is contagious, the way she sings with her whole body. You can't help but love her.

Beautiful woman, love her singing voice. And she can do everything between happy or silly and angry or heartbroken

#judy garland #machiko kyō #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 3

[notoriousbeb]

Why is Harry Styles All Over TTPD? A Timeline

TTPD Notes Glossary

Upon much ponderation and rabbit-hole-ing I think a truly stunning chunk of tracks on this double album (20) are her processing her feelings for whatever the hell happened with Harry.  

What will likely be my Haylor magnum opus is under the cut because it is a bit lengthy. Good luck. Or I'm sorry??

I think they both pined for each other for years (well documented amongst the Haylors).  

Then she split with Joe Alwyn before she left London for the Eras Tour, but she waited to make the announcement public (probably to give him time to pack up his shit and get out of their shared house) until April 8. However, excited to be “Fresh Out the Slammer,” she reached out to Harry ASAP.  

I realize I might sound like an absolute raving lunatic, but I legit think Harry was at Taylor’s Arlington, Texas, Eras Tour shows, at the end of March/beginning of April 2023, and followed her to New York City for several days. 

While Harry was tied up finishing up the Asian leg of his tour until March 25, I think he came almost straight to her after that, and love-bombed the shit out of her in his excitement.

But then right before he had to leave for tour, with a stopover in LA for the Satellite video and Late Late Show shoots, he gave her some sort of pulling-away speech about taking a pause or pulling back or something, (I’d wager because of the two world tours), which she took as a total rejection, which caused her to lose it and move on to the disaster we call Matty. 

Then, in June, he met Taylor Russell in London. And maybe they were just friends at first, but then Taylor Swift started messing around with Matty, and then in July she started dating Travis and it went public in September. So, I suppose at that point Harry figured, "Okay, to hell with it."  

And now, somewhere in London, I imagine their shared good mate, Ed Sheeran, has a pounding headache and wishes he still drank whiskey.  

I hope the truth of it all someday comes to light in a tell-all book or movie. Or, at the very least, it would be nice if some more clarity surfaces in one of their albums, or a record by Ed.  

Oh, and I think Stevie Nicks, of all fucking people, knows the tea. She considers both of them “like [her] children.” She gave them both matching crescent moon necklaces. And has performed with them. And she wrote the intro poem for this record. Read that and tell me it doesn’t match the story I’ve written in my head. Stevie knows.

And now, the timeline. @foxes-that-run Also has a much more detailed 2023 timeline that I recommend.

There are, I shit you not, about a fortnight of possible days (March 29/30-April 12, 2023) where they could have been together...

March 29/30

Harry likely leaves Toyko after his March 25 show. Love on Tour doesnt start up again until May 13 in Horsens, Denmark.

March 31

Eras Tour is in Arlington, Texas, for N1. It's a rain show. She replaces "Invisible String” with "The 1." The surprise songs were "Sad Beautiful Tragic" and "Ours." Read all my notes on TTPD and go watch these two live performances again. They're...really something.

April 1

She sings "Death by a Thousand Cuts" and "Clean."

April 2

She sings "Jump then Fall" and "The Lucky One."

April 3-6

Neither of them are seen these three days.

April 7

Harry is spotted at baggage claim in Atlanta

April 9

Harry is at the Master's Golf Tournament

April 10

Maybe this is when he leaves her. Taylor goes out for drinks with Jack and Margaret. However, this was an obvious pap walk (the day she had those butterfly jeans on); were the paps maybe called to this location to lure them away from her apartment so a certain person might or might not have could arrive unnoticed after a golf tournament in Atlanta?

April 12

In the afternoon, Harry is spotted with his trusty brown duffel bag (sporting an air travel tag) leaving the gym in LA. In NYC, Taylor is pictured on the roof of Electric Lady (maybe shooting music video?) with a Gucci lion ring just like Harry's but with a green stone. I Mr not the 10th, I think this evening was when he said whatever he said that made her so sad; maybe he thought they should take a pause until their tours were over? Maybe he decided their combined spotlights were just too big to overcome? Who knows? Not me. But my nosy ass wants to know!

April 13

Eras Tour in Tampa N1. Taylor cries during “Lover" and "Champagne Problems.” People think it's about Joe. I think it's not.

April 14

Eras Tour in Tampa N2. She plays "The Great War" (performed with Aaron Dessner) and "You're On Your Own, Kid."

April 15

Eras Tour in Tampa N2. She plays "Treacherous."

April 21

Eras Tour in Houston N1. She plays "Wonderland" and "You're Not Sorry" (these choices seem…significant. In a not good way.)

April 22

N2 in Houston. She plays "A Place in This World" and "Today Was a Fairytale" (for her mom, who I am sure was being a rock for her at this trying time)

April 23

N3 in Houston. She plays "Begin Again" and "Cold as You"

April 27 and 28

Harry does shoots for the "Satellite" music video and the last episode of the Late Late Show. The scenes for the music video aren't used. In my opinion his face looks puffy on Late Late (maybe from crying?)

Eras Tour Atlanta N1 Taylor sings "The Other Side of the Door" and "Coney Island."

April 30

Eras Tour Atlanta N3 she sings "I Bet You Think About Me" and "How You Get the Girl." She cries again during “Champagne Problems."

May 5-7

Ah, the Nashville Era's Tour shows. Such fond, fond memories. She sang “Sparks Fly,” “Teardrops on My Guitar,“ "Out of the Woods,” “Fifteen” (Abigail was there, and she dedicated this one to her)," Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve” with Aaron Dessner and “Mine” (also Speak Now drop).

May 11

Dinner with Matty and Jack and Margaret at Casa Cipriani in NYC

Is it possible the villainy of Matty is that he planted the original story in The Sun that he and Taylor were dating? It ran May 3, two days before he showed up (from Asia) to the Eras Tour play with Phoebe Bridgers as the opening act in Nashville. I just always thought that was odd. Maybe he had a big fat mouth.

May 12

Eras Tour Philadelphia N1. She played “Gold Rush” and “Come Back…Be Here” (Aww, girl….)

May 13

LOT picks up again in Horsens, Denmark. He's smiling to himself all cute like during "Fine Line." Plus he played "Stockholm Syndrome" for the first time in yeeeears and looked delighted. :(

Taylor's surprise songs were “Forever & Always” and “This Love.”

May 15

Either way, she leaves Electric Lady studios with Matty in tow.

May 19

She plays "Should've Said No" and "Better Man." (Well, that's seems...not good.)

May 20

Ah, the day of the “Question…?” and “Invisible” combo. (Oh, Tay). Matty is seen entering Taylor's apartment with a big Louis bag full of what many people believe is the typewriter. I always assumed it was clothes or a synthesizer or some kind of equipment. ¯\_(ツ)_/

May 25

This is the last day she was seen with Matty (and the chorus of angels sang)

But, really, only he was seen outside her apartment leaving with his stuff. She wasn’t in town. 

They were never seen together again after May 15. 

May 26

Era's Tour Metlife N1. She sings “Getaway Car” with Jack Antonoff and “Maroon” (this was a very angry face Maroon).

May 27

Metlife N2. She sings “Holy Ground” and “False God," and cries.

June 22

Taylor records “The Black Dog” at Electric Lady. “Six weeks of breathing clean air,” if we’re being specific here (although she was touring and it could have just sounded good) would be May 11, 2023.

August 13

Stevie Nicks owns the opening poem for the album.

#haylor #have i lost the plot? #i really don't think i have

[notexactlyrocketscience]

TMA ending reflections (and theories about the sequel!)

When I initially listened to the ending, it felt like a good plan (and the prospects of a perfect happy ending) unnecessarily jeopardised. Jon and Martin’s panicked conversation sounded so hopeless and their final decision felt impulsive. Everything was in shambles, and a good outcome was unlikely at this point. The promise of Somewhere Else seemed like an empty euphemism to make certain death more bearable. I was frustrated, and heartbroken.

Now that I've taken a few days to process and distanced myself from the characters' momentary pain, I actually truly believe that what happened at the end was a happy accident instead.

I don’t think I can put it better than the Reddit post already has—The original plan proposed by Annabelle could have had equally (if not worse) disastrous outcomes. Even if it had been canonically executed, knowing the way Jonny and Alex love to write, things would still have been shown to end ambiguously—just less tragically poetic. For the purposes of the narrative, I think they did a great job of ending the series on a climactic, fulfilling (and hopeful!) note that remains faithful to the overall tone of The Magnus Archives. Jon and Martin weren’t exactly planning on doing what they did, but it’s given them a chance at the best and happiest ending that was up for grabs.

And I love that I genuinely don’t feel like I have to be in denial of the canon at all to fully believe in this interpretation, since it was left strictly ambiguous on purpose.

But there’s more!

The Magnus Protocol teaser has a seemingly unharmed (and physically corporeal) Martin surprised to see the familiar tape recorder show up again, long after he’s assumed they’ve stopped listening. This, plus the fact that Jonny and Alex have confirmed they will appear in TMA 2, tells me:

It’s unlikely that Jonny and Alex will appear simply to voice other side-characters, even those with distorted voices. It’s clear from Q&As that they take casting very seriously. I can’t see them double-casting (former) main characters.

So we’ll see Martin again, post-escape from Eyepocalypse. Not just an old S1-to-S5-era never-seen-before Magnus Archives tape found by Alice and Sam. Including formerly unrevealed tapes from TMA would be a really nice touch (and I hope we’ll get that too!), but I’m sure Jonny wouldn’t release that particular teaser if he wasn’t solidly planning on following through in some way. Jonny has always been very serious about giving the audience breadcrumb trails with properly viable clues.

Well … what about post-Eyepocalypse Jon? Well, I think Jon is only going to appear in such a way that either fully retains the ambiguity of the TMA ending, or hints/confirms in some way that he is also alive and unharmed (in whatever avatar or semi-avatar form).

In any case, if post-Eyepocalypse Martin (and maybe Jon) do indeed appear (which seems very likely at this point), it will also be implied or shown that they are, indeed, together—in a non-tragic, romantic, bordering on wholesome way.

I say this because confirming their death or separation after the TMA finale would completely ruin the sanctity of the ending. It’s really neatly tied up and beautiful as it is right now. Answering questions to ambiguous events negatively in sequels (eg having formerly surviving main characters simply as side-characters who die in sequels) is really hard to land properly. It borders on being disrespectful of the investment the audience put into the original. Jonny has always been very receptive and sensitive to these things.

However, showing that characters from a previously ambiguous ending are living their best lives as mysterious side-characters that pop in and out—bamboozling the main characters (but delighting the audience)—is a lot easier to execute favourably. It also keeps from taking attention away from the protagonists and the main plot of the sequel.

So my expectation (read: hope) is that we’re going to see Jon and Martin in our world, where the end of TMA implied that the tapes are, and where I assume The Magnus Protocol is set! They will be happy and together (this may be explicit or implied vaguely, I am not sure how they’d keep that completely ambiguous if the post-Eyepocalypse versions of the characters themselves explicitly appear), and nothing worse than TMA finale will happen to them.

I only have this belief because I have incredible faith in Jonny and Alex as writers! I think they subverted insensitive tropes creatively and did just about everything right in TMA, and I can’t say that about most authors I love. Yes, I do generally want my blorbos to be safe and happy, but the above is not just a culmination of my wishful thinking. Jonny and Alex have already said that they certainly aren’t going to try to overshadow TMA, but I’m also hoping The Magnus Protocol will complement TMA while not really trying to step on TMA’s toes. They didn't have to drop so many JonMartin return hints (or even write JonMartin into TMA 2 at all) but they did. Super excited and optimistic for what's to come!

#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #jmart #the magnus protocol #tma spoilers #tma s5 spoilers #jonathan sims #alexander j newall #jonny sims #alex newell #martin blackwood #jon sims #john sims #jarchivist #the mag pod #the magnus pod #magnus pod #mag pod #the magnus scrotocol #tma 2 #lgbtq+ #achillean #mlm #gay #bi #biromantic #asexual #ace #screenshots from r/TheMagnusArchives via moonlightsapphic (repost bc tumblr algorithm completely ignored the reblog lol)

[ystrike1]

I Will Rewrite the Dead End Novel - By 최이설 (7.5/10)

An unjust world. An unjust villain. A heroine that is destined to suffer. An inconsequential character decides to change fate because it's the right thing to do. She has to face opposition on all sides to get to the good ending.

In this world magicians are special. They are the elite, but mana is poisonous. The very thing that makes the noble faction strong destroys them, so they do a terrible thing. The magic tower experiments on children nobody cares about. They "create" humanoid beings that exist to be bound to magicians, in order to counter the blight of mana poisoning. As a bonus the magician gets a slave and a bodyguard, made just for them.

Yul is in an odd situation. She's been locked in the magic tower for a long time. She exists to be bound to a magician someday. She lives in a cramped place with other candidates, but then she has a dream. She believes she's in the world of a novel. A tragic, pointless and sadistic one. She doesn't remember if she ever had another life, but she knows names and information that an isolated girl should not know.

Estella is the main character. She is a powerful magician from a prestigious family. She makes a terrible mistake. She is kind to an inhuman being from the magic tower. That mistake costs her everything. When she is vulnerable and alone obsessive, aggressive men gather around her. Because of her power and pedigree she is the ideal wife, and the constant attention she receives breaks her. Estella is a kind person who believes in second chances. After her fateful mistake she turns into a doll.

Estella foolishly decided to be kind to a magic tower experiment named Kal. She pitied him. She bonded with him and he became an anchor for her sanity. She was able to use her great magic to do noble things, without getting poisoned. Years went by, and Kal began to show signs of potential. Estella trusted him, so she did not test his mana.

Kal is an aberration. An extremely powerful experiment that is stronger than a real magician. When he masters his power he kills Estella's entire family, and he leaves her alone. Without her family by her side Estella is easy prey for the mad men who desire her.

Kal always wanted revenge. He was raised like a dog. He had to endure constant pain, because he was special. He was the best experiment. He got the most attention, and ridicule, from the magicians he hated so much. When he realized that he could become stronger he vowed to kill them all, and he goes on a rampage later. He uses Estella, and when he's free he carves a path of blood through the nation. He is the final boss. He cannot be reasoned with. He will never love Estella, even though she did truly want to end the barbaric bonding rituals.

Yul and Kal live together in a cell. Estella has yet to arrive. Yul wants to change the future. If Estella rises to power the magic tower will fall and a new era will come. If Estella becomes a plaything for rich men...she won't be able to advocate for social change. Yul is a practical young woman. She has to be. At first she doesn't know what to do.

Then Kal kills someone. He kills a man. A man who harassed her. Yul realizes that he cares about her, at least a little. His feelings are unstable though. She doesn't trust him. Only she can save the nation from his revenge. If she fails pointless suffering will rule.

By the way the other characters don't do nothing. This is Lev. He wants to survive too. He told Kal that Yul was being harassed. He did it to improve his chances. He wants to be chosen by a magician, because that's the only way to leave the tower.

Estella buys Kal...and Yul...then the story begins. Yul must befriend Estella and convince Kal to keep her alive.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #I Will Rewrite the Dead End Novel #otome #otome isekai