#and im really really happy with how it turned out

[saryasy]

And I'm sure you don't want to hear it. I do want to hear it. All right, you're living it, and I want, I want you to talk to me.

#911 #911 abc #911 fox #911edit #buddie #buddieedit #evan buckley #eddie diaz #alivedean #userisaiah #usereena #my gifs #911 spoilers #okay that's enough parallels #.....for now #i like how bobby's last gif is like him answering buck's question #wasn't intended but a nice coincidence #i kept agonizing how to best shape this set #and im really happy with how it turned out

[laikabu]

saw someone who hc kabru as aromantic bisexual. thats actually kinda good. i dont necessarily subscribe to it but i could see it. not fully aro but in the spectrum i guess

im now just going to ramble about how i think this would work in my head. also labru bc this is my page

he sees flirting more as a game n marriage as something convenient than something he aspires to achieve w the one he loves

flirting n dating is more of a tool to make friends. he isn’t interested in getting serious so that usually turns them off, so he gets labeled as a ‘player’

he doesn’t return rin’s feelings even though he finds her physically attractive, because he genuinely values her friendship and the way he views romance is incompatible with hers and would just break her heart

ok labru territory turn away now sorry im pulling shit out of my ass atp

laios would fit right in with his preferences, because their relationship would be boiled down to “best friends who have sex” like, the easiest way for them to explain their thing

even if they go on dates, they’d be more interested in talking about a current topic or something they need to do, than super sappy stuff. they still do it! but kabru would kinda get uncomfortable with saying sappy stuff, it’s different from flirting. once laios recognizes this, he tells him he doesnt have to do that

it works out because while laios is kinda sentimental, he isn’t really a romantic person. when they were still figuring stuff out, laios just goes “x is mad at me because they think not doing y makes me a bad partner” but really, kabru doesn’t care whether he does it or not

if laios is saying this about a different partner, kabru would chastise him, but since it’s him, he’s totally fine with none of that happening

when it comes to them becoming spouses, they would rather forgo a real wedding and just do the paperwork to make it happen. marcille takes offense to this n thinks its an “affront to romance” esp since kabru wants to plan HER wedding, but neither of them think it’s a big deal

laios has a very hard time distinguishing his platonic feelings to his romantic feelings. he’s just very happy kabru that wouldn’t leave him or get bored of him. getting to kiss him and have sex with him is just a nice bonus.

kissing and cuddling is more of an emotional recharge or comfort etc for kabru than a romantic activity. his friends don’t get it at all.

even in my stupid baby universe its just “kabru wants to have a baby with me for the kingdom? he’s such a nice guy. he told me he wants utaya to live on too… thats so thoughtful.” their relationship is ‘blunt’ and ‘convenient’. the marriage was just to legitimize the heir and otherwise it was just a regular wednesday.

they love each other, but kabru expresses it to the extent that he could, and that works out for laios.

tl;dr basically someone who views romance as a performance than something ingrained w him x someone who struggles w romance. its totally fine if you dont see kabru on the aromantic spectrum, i don’t necessarily see it that way either! i just want to think about how it would work in my fanworks. what do u think. i should add more but im just going off at the top of my head LOL

#labru #then again labeling it as aromanticism is just more Convenient #than whatever the hell is happening in kabru’s beautiful autistic mind

[cyber333angel]

like imagine sugar daddy! rafe begging to eat you out after rinsing his money on yu x

i would die i think x

-🎀

⋆｡ ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡

you had just finished shopping with rafe at a couple of different stores, ending your journey at one of your favorite places, victoria secret. he had already spoiled you too much today but it was always worth it.

so as your walking around the shop pointing out what you liked, you decided you wanted to try a few sets on to make sure it would fit. rafe sat down next to the dressing room with your bags bought from expensive brands, places only kooks could afford, waiting as you tried on the pretty lingerie. they all fit perfectly except one was pretty hard to zip so you asked for help, “rafe could you come in here please? quick!” you yell to him, he picks up his head from his phone and walks into the large stall, locking the door behind him. “i just need you to zip this up. i think the zipper jammed-“ you stop talking for a moment, watching rafe in the mirror in front of you stare you down head to toe. “rafey! are you listening?” and he snaps from the trance. “yeah..yeah im listening kid. turn around.” you do as your told as rafe walks up to you, bracing his hand on your shoulder as he pulls the he zipper up.

you squeal looking at yourself, happy of how the lingerie fits. “oh em gee! rafe doesn’t this make me look so pretty! what do you think?” you turn to look up at him but jerk your head back a bit when he grabs you by the waist inching himself closer to you. “this little get-up is for me hm princess? teasing me because you wanted daddy to touch you?” rafe asked you with a stern voice, his sudden actions make you fluster.

the two of you had agreed on a strictly money based relationship when you first started out, having you attend all the prestigious events to impress the kooks with his pretty girl on his side. but over the weeks you noticed he would look at you and hint things in a way that was not so professional. “no rafe! remember we said no sex and that this was only a business relationship?!” you tell him, although you were only trying to convince yourself at this point. “business relationship my ass you know you want more than that. why don’t you let me make you feel good huh? you look so pretty for me..” you look at him hesitantly, “I don’t know rafey..” and he twists his head to the side. “please baby?” his begging getting the best of you, you nod knowing what he said before was right and rafe flashes you a handsome smile. “theres my good girl.”

you sat in the chair that was in the dressing room, your legs spread out in front of his face as he lapped at your soaked folds. he had taken the lower part of your lingerie off, carful not to ruin it so he could buy it after he was done with you.

you were barely able to contain your moans as he sucked on your bud, his biceps wrapped around your legs forcing your heat to be close to his face. rafe mumbled little nothings under his breath, praising you. “taste so fucking good for daddy baby ..” you mewled at him, squirming around the chair and arching your back as he held you in place, “stay fuckin still alright?” he told you, pausing for a moment to get your response and you nod frantically. “mm yes daddy m’trying!” and the brunette goes back to licking stripes up into your cunt. “let’s hurry this up yeah?” you whine and cover your mouth as he takes two fingers, plunging them into your heat.

rafe thrusts his fingers in and out of your pussy, urging you to cum and you hump at his fingers, making rafe chuckle, “you really want to cum huh needy girl?” you ignore him as he places little kisses to your sloppy cunt making your hips buck. rafe sucks at your sensitive bud a few more times and you cum, your slick covering the bottom on his chin leaving you out of breath.

rafe licks the arousal of his fingers but sees you spread out on the chair out of breath. suddenly taking your jaw with his other hand and shoving the wet digits into your mouth. “taste how fuckin sweet you were for me..” you moan quietly around his fingers, slurping up the juices left as he looks at you.

he takes his fingers from your mouth, helping you clean you up and puts the lingerie set back in your shopping basket to pay for at the cashier desk. “lets go pay sweetheart. ” he tells you.

#🎀 anon #daddy 🤑 #obx smut #rafe x reader <3 #rafe cameron #rafe x black reader #outer banks #rafe outer banks #obx x reader #sugardaddy

[barrenclan]

i think rainhaze is one of my favorites characters ever genuinely, issue 37 was AMAZING and i really loved how rainhazes arc finally ended. I feel rlly happy bc this was a very poingant way of putting that rabid dog down but also i mean. I am a little sad. I pity rainhaze but in a way you pity a cocroach or something... He had it coming, his death was soooo well executed!! rain and all of defiance see killing as a divine right, and seeing that turn on rainhaze was very cathartic.

The casual way he spoke about asphodels murder was genuinely sickening. As if it was all a favor to HER, instead of rainhazes cowardice and trauma and brainwashing and selfishness making him kill his niece im cold blood. The way his own death dragged on and on, how painful and terryfying and gruesome it was - this is what asphodelpaw went through. Her death was not like falling asleep and neither was his. It was scary and painful and cold. So cold.

The way this comic completely subverted audience expectations with rainhazes character is sooo so good... At first he was just a chilli dead guy. then he turned into a classic winter solider type - morally dubious but still symphatetic, a 'poor little meow meow' who was stuck in a horrible situation he had no way of leaving. and then he killed asphodelpaw in cold blood. That moment, when he chose to embrace the violence, the damned coward, was such a delicious and twisted reaveal - forcing the reader to reconsider the whole story and character from an entirely new perspective.

i think we as people well versed in fandom tend to woobify and water down characters like rainhaze and make them into 'poor little meow meows' - removing their agency in the situation entirely to make them more personable and toned down - and rain feels to me like a purposful dissection of that. he IS sympathetic, to a degree. the shit he want through was undeniably awful - and it broke him and molded him into a monster.

rainhazes character was always about choice, i think. about decisions you make and the decisions made for you, and how you respond to the latter... about the question of autonomy. where does your choices end and other peoples influence begin? and does it really matter, in the end? does it matter whether or not rainhaze did what he did out of his own will or under rangers influence? he still did it. even if he were sorry, and hes not, would that matter? he killed her. there is no bringing her back and he had to deal with the consequences himself. abandoned by his family and his tormentor alike.

his death was pathetic and slow and pitiful, and above all disturbing - just like rainhaze himself. i think thats the word that describes him best - pathetic. rest in pieces, you cold bastard. ill miss you.

sorry this is so long..... i tried to put my thoughts into words here and i still fell short, i hope at least some of it makes sense

So, so many people have wonderful, intricate and moving thoughts about Rainhaze in my inbox, and I want to share them all with you. So here is the first one.

Rainhaze really did make for a great deconstruction of the "poor little guy" trope that I was interested in exploring. Shellspring also did, to an extent, but with Rainhaze I wanted to get really deep into it. How much of this is his fault? What could he have done differently? Is his death cathartic, satisfying, triumphant, painful, tragic, or anything else? It was a lot of fun to write and I'm glad so many people seem to have enjoyed it.

#ask #rainhaze #analysis #currently i have about 240 asks so like. it may take a bit to get to them all understand #patfw spoilers

[sweetteainthesummerx]

THE LOVE LASTS SO LONG (12)

In which the Ferrari gang tackles Austria

series masterlist

Note: YAY their relationship is finally starting to develop more teehee. Let me know if you have feedback or if you want to be added to the taglist. Warning: mentions of an erection, mildly sexual

aubreyyang posted

aubreyyang sound of music type beat

liked by dior.n.goodjohn, alexandrasaintmleux and 100,753

dior.n.goodjohn OMG THE COWS ARE SO CUTE

-- aubreyyang ikr I got to pet them I can die happy

user1 MOTHERS they're so pretty ughhh

-- user2 oh to be traveling with f1 drivers over europe

charles_leclerc pic creds for first slide and also THATS MY GF

-- aubreyyang not with that attitude

-- user3 BAHAH they're so funny bye

walker.scobell oh look its you on the third slide

-- aubreyyang I bought you a t shirt im throwing it out the window

-- walker.scobell NOOO I TAKE IT BACK

-- pjo.fandom.08 aww shes so older sibling

MESSAGES

alex 🖼️

hey cherie! I think Charles and I are going to stay in for today the hiking yesterday knocked us out

aubrey 🎬

aww okayy

we'll have dinner or lunch today tho?

alex 🖼️

bien sur!!

MESSAGES

aubrey

morning!

ollie

good morning :)

aubrey

charl and lex aren't coming to explore the city are you still up for it?

ollie

yeah ill come pick you up at ur room

Ollie silently thanked Charles and his old age: a whole morning alone with Aubrey.

“Hey.” Ollie smiled down at Aubrey when she cracked open her door at his knock.

“Morning! You wanna come in for a second? I need to put my shoes on before we go.” She pushed her earring backing on, turning as he let himself in. 

She was wearing a tiny top with no straps the colour of a ripe peach and a white skirt. The heat was unbearable, so her hair was pushed from her face in a long, pretty tail. He wondered how she would react if he smoothed his fingers along her soft, tanned skin  or if he ran his tugged at her dark hair. 

Friends, he reminded himself. But she was so…

He thumped onto her bed face down, earning a giggle from Aubrey. He flipped back up goofily, a little taken a back by the strong smell of her shampoo and perfume while she puttered around the room, retrieving knick knacks and dropping them into her little handbag. 

He pretended for one moment that she was his, and that he didn’t have to take her presence in like a drowning man gasping for air. He wouldn’t mind drowning in her, if this was the sight he would be greeted by everyday. 

“Dude. Stop staring at me like that.” She scrunched her nose. 

“Sorry.” He murmured, not sounding sorry at all. 

She tugged her sambas on, falling onto the bed next to him. He sighed, closing his eyes when she ran one hand through his hair, fingernails catching pleasantly on his scalp. 

He bit back a noise that would surely embarrass himself. 

“Tired? We can stay back today if you want.” The morning light glowed yellow beyond his eyelids, and her soft, accented voice was husky. His chest ached for her, and she was barely a foot away. 

“No, s’alright.” His eyes fluttered open. He realized with a start that while he was flat on his back, Aubrey had propped herself up on one elbow on her side next to him. He tried his best not to look at the slender expanse of her neck and chest. He failed miserably. 

“Hmm. Some shopping, some food and then we’ll head back and take a nap?” She asked, standing and reaching a small hand out to help him. Who was he to refuse? He let her drag him up, laughing when she had to put her whole body weight behind it. 

They spent the rest of the morning perusing shops after the subway ride, not really buying anything but looking and talking. He loved having her near, loved making her smile and laugh and hit his chest when his jokes were inappropriate and childish. 

Every time she turned to tell him something - that usually made him laugh - his hand twitched to reach out to touch her. Her hand, her bare face, the small of her back. 

When they realized that they’d missed breakfast and lunch (Ollie’s stomach was starting to growl, he was still growing, thank you very much) they decided to head back and see if Charles and Alex wanted a late lunch together. 

They made their way to the subway, and Ollie grabbed her hand and slid it into the crook of his elbow with the excuse of not wanting to lose her in the crowd. He threw in a short joke with it, hoping that his need to touch her was not so obvious. 

Ever since she told him that she turned her brain off when she was with him in public, he made sure to show her that this trust she held for him was very much safe and sound. 

She hummed some pop tune as he guided her onto the train, settling them both onto seats. She was showing him Formula memes when someone beside her jostled, tossing her across his lap. 

He glared at the careless man, and hauled her easily onto his lap by her waist without thinking. She went very still, and he was about to apologize profusely or dig a hole and bury himself in it (or both) but she wiggled into a comfortable position. Even sitting on his lap, he could see past her head. As she leaned back against his chest, he carefully pulled her hair up so it was resting against his shoulder and not crushed between them. 

“Let me know if I’m too heavy, I can stand-“

He kissed his teeth with his tongue, “You weigh like 5 kilos, love.”

She let out a contented hum, turning her face into his neck. Her warm breath, her scent and the tip of her nose against his jaw was too much. 

He was a man, after all. And Aubrey was objectively one of the most beautiful, kind and decent people he’d ever met. So with her moving around on his lap and her mouth dangerously close to his neck…

“Is your phone in your pocket?” She asked, reaching behind her. Panicked, he caught her wrist. 

“That’s not-“ his ears felt hot, and she stiffened. 

“Oh.”

Great, now she thought he was a pervert who-

She was laughing. At him, because they were on a subway in Vienna with her on his lap while he had a hard on. 

She was laughing, that bright, clear sound that made him melt like wax on a candle. 

He poked her side, whining, “It’s not funny!”

“It’s a little bit-“ she moved to stand, but he locked his forearm around her waist.

“Give me a second.” He muttered, and much to his chagrin she was giggling again. 

"You know, you had me worried. I thought you weren't..." she started, shrugging, face flushed prettily, "sorry, this is weird, isn't it? You're...you're my best friend."

"You're more than my best friend. You know that." he murmured and he felt her cheek tense into a smile, "What were you going to say?"

"I thought you didn't find me attractive." she bit out, mortified.

"I'm sorry? Have you seen yourself? Of course I'm attracted to you, love. I just didn't want to scare you off."

Finally, it was their station, and they walked back to the hotel, hand in hand. 

She made fun of him all the way there, and he found that he really didn’t mind, especially if she kept smiling that wide, rosy smile. 

olliebearman posted on their story

caption: bit of shopping

aubreyyang posted on their story

caption: collecting mirror selfies in bathrooms with my girl

tagged: alexandrasaintmleux

"Good to head back?"

"Oui." Alex smoothed her hair one more time, and they returned to their boys at the small restaurant in Vienna they were eating dinner at.

When they returned to the table from the bathroom - she was seriously collecting mirror selfies from bathrooms - and sat, Ollie wrapped one large hand around the leg of her chair ( and if she had wished that it had been her calf, that was nobody’s business) and tugged her closer to himself. He slung his arm around the back of her chair, fingers grazing her shoulder. 

“Hi.” He grinned, proud of himself. Across the table, Charles made a gagging sound. Alex rolled her eyes while smiling at her boyfriend, passing Aubrey the plate of fruit. 

“Okay, so tonight we leave for France and we stay there for two days, n’est-ce pas?”

“Oui, and then do we have plans?” Charles asked as Ollie swiped a piece of orange off of Aubrey’s plate.

“Le Tour Eiffel, obviously. Louvre, maybe some shopping?” Aubrey suggested, and the boys groaned. 

“It will be fun.” She protested, and Alex smiled sweetly. 

“Sure, Aubs.” His finger traced down her shoulder, and she resisted the urge to shiver. Ollie was getting brave. Ever since their day together exploring the city, he seemed to be getting more affectionate and clingy - which she didn’t not mind one bit. 

Before the Vienna Train Incident, as Alex and Aubrey dubbed it, he had been so sweet. The perfect gentleman, always respectful and kind. She had actually wondered if he’d found her attractive at all. 

But when he had whispered low and panicked in her ear that the hardness nudging into her thigh was indeed not his phone, it was almost like a confirmation for her. In fact, she started to notice the little things: his ears would turn red when she traced the veins on his forearms while they waited for Alex and Charles to come down to the lobby, his eyes seemed to be magnetic against her back whenever she wore a sundress (floral usually. He really liked pale yellow. Not that she was taking note) and his hands almost always drifted to her like he wasn’t thinking. 

She was gaining confidence; that little voice in her head that kept telling her she would be so happy and safe with him if she would just her herself try…

He could make her so happy. If being friends with him was that great, being his girlfriend would be a dream. She just wanted to make sure. 

An idea came to her head, and she looked down. Ollie liked to manspread, so his knee was knocking into her crossed legs. Aha. The shoes she’d chosen for tonight were nice white heels with pointed toes. Very slowly and deliberately, she hooked the point of the shoe under his pant leg and dragged it up his skin. He choked on his water, coughing. And, bingo. His ears were turning that endearing Ferrari colour. 

“You alright, mate?” Charles asked. Aubrey saw through her peripheral that the tall man beside her was most definitely looking at her accusingly. Cute. 

“Yeah, sorry. Choked. So-“ he cleared his throat. “Shopping probably the second day, yeah? Maybe a nice dinner and then we leave for the south?”

“Mm. I think you are right, Ollie,” Alex brushed a crumb off of Charles’s shirt, “the Louvre will take a while. I want pictures.”

“Sounds good.” A very large, warm calloused hand just landed on her knee, sliding slowly up to her thigh. His pinky finger - probably as long as her pointer - slipped under her skirt. Her breath caught, but no choking occurred. 

“Let’s head out then?” Charles asked, waving for the check. 

Disappointed, Aubrey felt Ollie’s hand leave her skin, feeling suddenly cold. But then he draped a heavy arm around her shoulder when they stood, waiting for the other couple to join them in their trek back to the hotel. 

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @callsignwidow @iloveyou3000morgan @honethatty12 @taygrls @destinyg237 @ilivbullyingjeongin

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

#f1 drivers #f1 smau #f1 x reader #formula 1 #ollie bearman #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman x you #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #ollie bearman fluff #ollie bearman imagine #ollie bearman x female reader #actress!reader #director!reader #slow burn #friends to lovers #ferrari

[fvedyetor]

possum tachihara

possum tachi!! ty for the request this was so fun :]

ref photos, from pinterest

#all of the possum ref photos i found looked so cute #i tried giving possmu tachi earrings but they arent so good... but im happy with how it turned out overall #the tachi and gin at the swings thing is bc one time i was on swings at night while i was listening to music and then all of a sudden #i looked up and i was caught in a staring contest with a possum #it was really close too the closest ive been to a possum before #tachihara michizou #fvedyart #akutagawa gin #bsd #bungou stray dogs #fvedyasks #kiw-ee <3

[fanaticsnail]

today being children's day we will have the pleasure of something thematic? 👀My dog really wanna know (but 0 pressure of course, just curious)

"0 Pressure", you say - but all I hear is "Dad Shanks and Baby Uta fic ASAP please."

I had no idea it was Children's Day today, and I had to pump this out because it lives in my head rent-free.

What do I do?

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,100+

Synopsis: Uta is going through a leap week and Shanks is an overwhelmed teenager. He does his best to soothe her, but becomes overwhelmed by the wailing cry of his daughter. He calls the one person he knows has hands on experience with a situation exactly like the one he's found himself in.

Themes: Not an 'x reader' fic. Baby Uta, teenage parent Shanks, supportive crew, uncle Rayleigh, parenting things, parenting advice, Shanks is a dad, fluff.

Notes: I hope you enjoy a little bit of a cathartic fic based on parenting experience. I cried writing the end. Happy tears.

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @jintaka-hane

Down the hall in the dimly-lit corridor, the Red-Headed captain Shanks had his eyes hanging half-lidded and surrounded by a puffy purple hue. He attempts to soothe the inconsolable infant in his arms with a gentle rocking motion, and marching from one side of his quarters to the other. 

Why did he think he could do something like this? Why did he think it would be so easy to care for a baby he found at sea with his crew? He knew better than to go back to Beckman for help: his first mate had finally asked for a week off from “Uta-Duty” after doing nights while Shanks charted the courses he laid for the next destination.

The wails of her shrill cry carry on through the rocking and swaying, and tears begin to pool in the teenager’s eyes. Shanks feels so overwhelmed and helpless, wanting nothing more than to aid Uta through her ailment so he can finally get some sleep. She arches her back and straightens out her limbs with her face red and brows furrowed. 

“Shh, sweetheart,” he hushes in a soft tone, attempting to cradle her back into his arms and rock her, “Daddy’s here. Daddy’s got you.” Uta’s cries turn to whimpers, her vibrant purple eyes widened and looked up into his brown orbs. Both the teenage Shanks and the infant Uta held mirrored expressions. 

Wide globes of vulnerability stared into each other with a glossy sheen threatening to spill over their lash lines further. Uta’s reddened face scrunched up once more, her whimpers becoming a wailing cry with her eyes clamping tightly shut. Shanks sighed, his own tears finally spilling over his waterline, staining his cheeks with a trail of emotion, and trickling down to his chin. 

“I-I-...” Shanks began slowly sitting down at his desk with Uta continuing to cry in his arms, “...I don’t know what to do, sweetheart. What do I do? P-Please, Uta. What do I do?” 

He looks at his desk, noticing his Den-Den snail glaring at him with equally sunken eyes over his features. Shanks sighed, reaching for the snail and beginning to chart in the digits for the one person he thought would be able to help him. He lifts the receiver to his ear and sniffs back another sob into the mouthpiece. 

The Den-Den on the other end of the call rattles, a male voice picking up and giving a lazy “Kid, that you?” 

“...Uncle Rayleigh?” Shanks stuttered into the mouthpiece, the cries of Uta floating eagerly into the transceiver with his cracking voice. Rayleigh sighed into the mouthpiece, a soft smile growing on his lips. 

“That my favorite grandbaby cryin’ there, son?” Rayleigh’s easy drawl called through the receiver, “How many weeks old is she now, Shanks? About seven months or so?” 

“Y-Yes,” Shanks’ voice whimpered into the mouthpiece. Rayleigh hummed in contemplation, and Shanks could almost picture the soft bob in his head. 

“One o’ them wonder weeks, I think,” his rumbled tone relayed back to him, “All I can tell you is it’ll pass. You’re in the thick of it based on her cry, but it won’t be forever. Okay, kid?” 

Rayleigh waited on the other end of the call, his duvet slipping off his chest and falling to his lap as he spared a glance at the clock at his side. No sounds other than the cry from Uta reverberated in the mouthpiece. 

“You still with me, son?” Rayleigh asked the young captain, who only granted him a choked whimper in response. 

“How’d you do it, Uncle Rayleigh?” Shanks’ cracking voice and quivering lip physically depicting his distress with Uta’s cries only growing louder. “You were my age when you found me. How did you do it? Because I-I-... I can’t-... It’s-... Sh-She-... She doesn’t stop.” 

After a deep sigh from Rayleigh, he pinched his brows and turned once more to the snail.

“Lean on your crew for a few days,” he hummed thoughtfully, all truth and full of well-practiced patience. “Get your chef to prepare meals for you in advance. You sleep when she sleeps, you wake when she wakes, and you lean on your crew, boy. Trust them to guide you, give Uta to Beckman for a bit while you get a more lengthy rest, and do your best.” 

Shanks allowed his tears to flood his face, heavily sobbing as he listened to the first-mate of captain Roger. 

Both Roger and Rayleigh raised him aboard the Oro Jackson from toddlerdom. Shanks was found by Roger exactly the same as Uta was found by him. If there was anyone with sound advice and sure experience, it was this glasses-wearing, blonde haired, ex-first mate to the King of the Pirates. His Uncle Rayleigh. 

“Thank you, Uncle Rayleigh,” Shanks whimpered into the mouthpiece, feeling Uta beginning to settle in his arms and bury her face into his chest, “She-... She’s calming down a bit now. I think I’m gonna try and get some sleep.” 

“You do that, son. And know this…” Rayleigh spoke into the Den-Den quietly, prompting Shanks to lean his ear into the shell while cradling Uta into his arms. 

“...You’re doing great.”

Shanks sniffed back more emotion from escaping him as he hung up the Den-Den shell and slowly walked Uta to her crib at his bedside. Slowly placing her onto her back, Shanks looks down at her peaceful face and lays down at the very edge of his bed. Slotting his hand over her crib, he gently places his index finger within her balled fist. 

“You are so precious to me, my daughter,” he sniffed, his lip quivering the longer he stared at her smaller face, “We’ll get through this together. I promise, sweetheart.” He slowly retracted his arm and placed his hand beneath his face while lying on his knuckles. 

“I love you, Uta. My little song,” he whispered, his body finally giving in and prompting his heavy eyes to finally shut, “My precious daughter.”

The night carried on, the gentle swell of the waves shepherded both Shanks and Uta into a heavy slumber. The teenage captain never once regretted the decision to claim the child as his own, his decision to raise her aboard the Red-Force being one of the better decisions he had made. 

Before he woke, Rayleigh had already called Beckman’s Den-Den and filled him in on the interrupted night, and gave him several orders to follow to best support the young Captain. Beckman took Rayleigh’s word as law, barking orders to the crew to give Shanks all the time and space he needed to usher Uta through this stage of childhood development. 

Shanks remained ever grateful that he chose this assortment of sailors to travel with, his crew being the crutch he could lean on in his time of need. He loved each member of his crew so much, especially the small bundle laying soundly asleep in her crib beside him.

#one piece #shanks #uta #beckman #rayleigh #silvers rayleigh #red haired shanks #benn beckman #baby uta #teenage shanks #parenting advice #one piece RED #one piece platonic #ask snail #snail answers #op shanks #op uta #op beckman #op rayleigh #red hair pirates

[drinktaro]

out like a light 𐙚 jellycat

~ start of written

you wait by the door of ur brother, sungchan’s, apartment and hear the door bell ring. when you open the door you expect to see momo. instead your met with wonbin and anton.

before you can say hello, momo rushes right pass wonbin and anton and drags you to your room.

when you reach your room, momo turns to you and asks you a question about sungchan.

“do you thing sungchan will like my gift?”

momo then pulls out a small keychain with a cat attached to it.

you question why momo would care what sungchan thought but ur thoughts were cut off by a knock on the door.

“hey y/n come and meet my frien- oh hey momo”

momo then stuffs the cute keychain in her pouch and greets sungchan by wishing him a happy birthday.

you and momo walk down the hall with sungchan. once you reach the end of the hall way, you see all 6 of his friends. you get nervous as they are all staring at you so you try speed walk to the kitchen with momo, but are cut off by two extroverts.

“hey y/n! when did you get so tall??” seunghan asks while waving his hand above your head. you get embarrassed and immediately respond to his rude comment.

“you just got taller! its not my fault you grow so much” seunghan laughs and shotaro shortens his laughter by stepping on his foot. seunghan squeals.

all the guys introduce themselves except, anton and wonbin. you felt flustered because you felt that every-time you looked their way they would make a weird jester or turn around at the sight of you.

later on everyone sings happy birthday to sungchan and cut the cake. everyone starts drinking and laughing at seunghan and sohee’s karaoke session. momo talks to sungchan about dancing together one day. you sit right next to wonbin and anton. anton nudges at wonbin.

“hey.”

you turn around to face wonbin and answer with a bright smile

“hi wonbin”

wonbin immediately gets flustered but tries to hide it by continuing the conversation.

“so how long have you known momo?” wonbin questions

“me and momo have been friends since we were kids. shes one of my best friends. what about you and anton?” you reply.

“me and anton have known each other since middle school but i feel like i’ve known him forever. he’s my closest friend.”

you guys sit in comfortable silence for a while.

until he brings up the first day of school..

“hey im sorry for almost falling in you on friday” he scratches his neck awkwardly waiting for your response

you look at him confused and he gets nervous because of your the immediate change in your facial expressions. it takes you a couple seconds to realize what he was talking about, but while you were staring at him he gets up out of embarrassment and spills his drink all over your lap.

you get startled by the sudden coldness on your lap and stand up to at least let some of it drip down. everyone stares at you guys as wonbin runs to go get paper towels.

“im super sorry y/n i didnt mean to drop the drink on you and im sorry for ruining ur dre-“

“its okay wonbin!” you say and laugh due to the awkward moment. you walk to the guest room that you will be staying at tonight and change out of your wet clothes.

momo burts into your room and immediately asks what just happened. you explain to her what happened and she laughs.

“why would he do that? thats so embarrassing”

you were also confused why he suddenly got up. your conclusion was that he was embarrassed so you didnt really think much about it.

you and momo go back to the living room and you sat where you previously were.

“im so sorry again for dropping my drink on you” he says while looking down.

“it’s genuinely okay wonbin. just know you owe me something” you joke.

“i can give you my number so i could make it up to you.” he exclaims

you immediately agree and let him type his number into your phone.

momo tells you that she needs to go home but you realize that she doesn’t have a ride home. sungchan offers to take her home so everyone took that as a sign to go home.

when everyone is leaving, momo teases you about the whole wonbin situation and you tease her about having to get dropped off by your brother. as wonbin was walking out with anton he stops and gives you something. you were gonna ask what it was but he had already walked out of the small apartment.

it was a box and inside was a jellycat plushie and a note that said sorry. you smiled and walked to your room.

~ end of written

𐙚 SYNOPSIS. in which y/n is an anti-social nerd that loves to read and is going to major in music. while wonbin is also a music major who had a crush on her since middle school.

𐙚 PAIRING. non-idol!wonbin x non-idol!fem!reader

✿ ⊹ prev | next ⊹ ✿

𐙚 notes. i did not proofread this so bare with me😓😓

𐙚 taglist { open } @saranghoeforanton @lakoya @starwonb1n @wonychu @ihrtantn @kkumistars @antonsgirlfriend @kyusqult @nujeskz @beomgyusonlywife @bunni @parkwonbinie @nakam00t @revehosh @seunghancore @addorations @secretiny

#riize angst #riize fluff #riize imagines #riize social media au #riize scenarios #riize smau #riize texts #riize wonbin #riize x reader #wonbin #wonbin texts #wonbin smau #wonbin fluff #wonbin angst #wonbin imagines #wonbin scenarios #wonbin x reader #wonbin riize #park wonbin #drinktaro 𐙚 #riize

[thedisc0spider]

can u write spencer introducing reader to star wars💕💕?? ive never seen it 😭

Star Wars

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Summary: Spencer is really excited to introduce you to Star Wars.

Warnings: reader gets a little stressed out, cursing, pre established relationship, reader works at smosh, not proof read!

Fluff!!!!

Point of view: 2nd person

A/n: this request was so adorable and I had so much fun writing it! I took this prompt and ran (maybe a little to far) with it SO if this wasn’t what you wanted I’m so sorry!! Id be willing to rewrite it if so.

————————————————————————————————————

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You can already tell today will be very interesting. Well, the next few weeks actually.

A few days ago you had revealed to Spencer that you’ve never seen a Star Wars movie. Of course, he was shocked as to how this was the first he was hearing of it.

“You’ve never seen a Star Wars movie? How?”

“I don’t know, when I was a kid I wasn’t allowed to watch it and by the time I was an adult there were way too many and starting just felt overwhelming.” You shrugged it off as if it was nothing.

To Spencer, it was not nothing.

So he convinced, nay, begged you to watch with him.

“Come on, it’s like my favorite thing! We always watch (y/f/s) together, baby. Pleaseeeeeee.”

What were you gonna do, say no? How could you? He was right, you always forced him to watch what you wanted, so it was only fair that you comply.

However, you were still a little exhausted just thinking about the idea of committing to an entire film series. You looked it up, it will take you 25 hours and 7 minutes to watch all the Star Wars movies. This, however, includes the nine movies from the Skywalker saga and the two anthology movies, Rogue One and Solo. Excluding the anthology movies, it will take you 20 hours and 39 minutes to watch and Spencer gave in and promised not to make you watch the anthology films.

‘Okay,’ you think, ‘if we watch one movie a night it will only take a little over a week. That’s not bad, right?’

You tried to convince yourself, but you’ve always had issues with things like this. You’re a hard worker, so taking this much time to watch movies always felt like a waste to you. You felt like you could much easily find a better use of your time, like you were missing out on what you could’ve been spending on more productive activities. In all honesty, it stressed you out.

The work day is now over, you have just finished filming your last video of the day and you’re walking to the games pod to find your boyfriend. There he is, working on something on his computer. You walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you bury your head into his neck.

He lets out one of his signature stupid laughs and gently rubs your arm. “Im almost done, then we can go home.” You nod, and he leans his head onto yours, “are you excited?” He whispers.

You raise your head from his shoulder so your faces are level, “hmm… depends. Are there any hot guys in these movies?” You squint your eyes.

Spencer laughs, “oh, yeah, definitely. Just wait ‘til you see Han Solo.” He raises his eyebrows, “or Anakin, he’s more your type.”

“Okay, now I’m excited.” You laugh, before placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Spencer closes his laptop and begins to put away his belongings for the day while you sit in his chair. “Hey,” he says, still putting things in his bag, causing you to look up at him, “I really appreciate you doing this with me…” he turns to look at you, “like, it really means a lot that you’re letting me share something with you that’s important to me. I know you’re not really into all this… space stuff, but..” he shrugs, stepping closer, “it makes me really happy that you’re doing this, that’s all.”

Your heart melts hearing this. ‘How is he so perfect? I can’t believe I was being so selfish, making this about me when it’s not. Its about him. Who cares if it’s not productive in a conventional sense of the word? it’s productive for our relationship. That’s what matters. Us. Who cares about all this superficial shit? The only thing that truly matters is doing what makes you happy, and I’m happy with Spencer.’ You stand, walking to him until you’re standing directly in front of him.

You place your hands on either side of his face, looking up into his eyes. “You’re so sweet, you know that?” His hands find your waist as you lean into him, hugging him tightly. “Im honored you’re sharing this with me, sweetheart.”

You pull away from the hug and Spencer smiles at you, before kissing your forehead briefly. “I love you, (y/n).”

“I love you too.” The two of you kiss, lost in your own little world for a moment. Its deep, yet sweet. Not rough or hasty, but full of love and passion. “We need to leave if we want to have time to actually watch the first movie, Spence.” You say, after pulling apart.

He rolls his eyes, turning to grab his backpack. “Okay, okay. Let’s go.”

The two of you walk to the parking lot, hand in hand, saying bye to the various cast and crew members you see on your way.

As you get into the drivers seat and connect your phone to the auxiliary cord, Spencer suddenly speaks out, “oh, shit, I almost forgot. Do you want to watch the movies in chronological order or in release order?” He asks, looking over at you.

You look up from your phone, thinking to yourself for a second before you turn your head to meet his gaze, your eyebrows furrowed.

“They weren’t released in chronological order?”

#fanfiction #smosh cast #smosh spencer #spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew #smosh x reader #smosh games #smosh #Spencer Agnew fanfiction

[un-lawliet]

“Fit For an Archon”

— in which the Hydro Archon is fascinated by you

a/n- happy pride month to all my wlw, i wrote this for us <3 im sorry for how long it is (gasp)

word count (7.1k)

You are the worst seamstress in Fontaine.

You’re sure of it.

Your hands seem to repel fabric, your needle poisoning the thread in which you clumsily stitch with and leaving you with a truly horrendous looking frock.

Chiori, bless her soul, had hired you as a a request from your Father, who, in Chiori’s defence, was a fantastic tailor, renowned for his intricate stitching and detailed attires- Truly a renaissance for Fontaine fashion.

And so when he left Chioris business, set to start his own amiss the bustling harbours of Liyue, you found yourself tucked away, working in his place for Chiori, who was currently frowning pensivly down at your work, as if it had personally offended her.

“…It’s bad isn’t it?” You state, looking intensely at your boss who chewed on her painted bottom lip, head cocked, wondering how in Tevat you were your Fathers daughter.

“It’s not…Awful” She tries, although not very well, her gaze fixed on the uneven stitching and the deplorable match of colour.

“Better than last time?” You question, a terrible sense of hope clouding your voice, hopeful that maybe, just maybe you were improving-

“No, no, definitely worse.” Chiori mutters, and your face falls.

She sticks a hand out and touches the skirt you had presented her with, lifting it up.

The seams fall and the skirt halves in her grasp, and you cringe silently, eyes closing in embarrassment.

“Hm.” She ponders, turning to stare at you from over her shoulder, an eyebrow raised.

“It’s…Meant to do that?” You try, shoulders raising in contention, only to be silenced again at the shake of her head.

“Take a break Y/N.” Chiori says, tired under attempts to support your terrible creations.

You don’t argue with her, immediately fleeing the boutique as if you were being hunted down by the God King Remus himself.

The bell on the door dings as you exit, waving goodbye to your co-workers who scoff at your exit, whispering words under their breath that you chose not to render.

You just needed to stick this job out until you had enough income to quit.

But- with the state of your designs and the even worse execution of said designs, you doubt you’d ever make enough to follow through with your intentions.

And really…You barely make ends meet as it is.

Oh God.

You kick a stone and watch as it skims across the tarmac, bouncing up and down until skidding to a stop metres before you.

You hate being a seamstress.

Making it to the manufactured river, you slump down, lazily throwing your legs off of the sides, your boots delicately touching the water surface below.

The same way they always did when Chiori sends you away.

How ridiculously boring.

Fontaine’s a-lot quieter in the evening, most people finding themselves at the Opera Epiclese to watch a spectacle, faces tinged red with excitement.

You prefer it when it’s quiet, when the streets are empty. It means you can lie backwards on the hard ground without too much judgement from your fellow citizens.

Your legs still bent down towards the water, with your back on the concrete dock, you allow yourself a breath.

You hear footsteps somewhere off to your right but pay them no mind. After all, passing judgement is only ever passing, and you’re sure whoever it is will waltz past you, giving you a confused once over before immediately forgetting your face.

You stretch one of your legs and break the surface of the river, feeling the tip of your boot soak up the water briefly, before you’re lifting it back out, shaking it gently to dry it off.

Someone cleared their throat behind you and you sign with the frustration of interrupted serenity.

Can you truly not have anything?

Pushing yourself up with your elbows, you turn your face the perpetrator, eyebrows drawn down to a frown.

You were gonna stare them out until they left you to mope at this stupid river, politeness be dammed!

.

.

.

It’s Focalors behind you.

Lady Furina.

Every retort resting on your tongue is swallowed up, getting stuck in the back of your throat and you choke on your words, chest heaving in shock.

The Hydro Archon stares down at you, watching your struggle, her arms crossed over her chest and a smug smile on her lips.

Her hair sways in the breeze, tickling her leg and she seems to be quite fascinated in the dress encasing your figure.

A long ruffly mess of colour and mesh with a corset that one would barely call fitting, you look like a run away mannequin, pathetically thrown together before your God.

“Lady Furina.” You wheeze, propelling yourself to your feet, dropping into a bow, your skirt following comically behind.

Why is she here? Is she not fond of the Opera house? Archons people wait half their lives to meet her and here you are face to face with God through pure circumstance.

She waves a gloved hand in your direction, dismissing your bow entirely, eyes still drawn to the fabric of your gown.

“Your..attire is quite interesting.” She states bluntly, walking two steps to the left to capture your dress from all angles.

Your face flushes, “Thank you Lady Furina, it’s an honour to be complimented by-”

“Were you supposed to be in the opera?” She cuts you off, turning her body in the general direction of the Epiclese.

“What?” You answer before finding your manners, “I mean n-no it’s my….” You sigh, shoulders slumping, “I’m a seamstress.”

Lady Furina pauses, her head lifting you look at your face, studying it with such precision that you feel yourself bite back the desire to look away.

“..A seamstress?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Oh.”

The pair of you look at each other for a moment before she throws her head back and laughs. It echoes around the empty streets of Fontaine and reverberates right into your ears.

“I suspected as much!” She guffaws, clapping her hands together.

You cock your head, confused, “No you didn’t?” You reply, unable to stop the offence in your voice.

Sure you weren’t good at your job but you liked this dress! And you were definitely not apart of any play!

Lady Furina’s laugh trails off and she stares at you, her lip between her teeth, holding back a grin.

“Tell me!” She begins again, and you shudder at the volume of her voice. “Why is it that you look so sad?”

“Huh?” You question, eyes widening in confusion.

Furina smiles, it brightens her face, before pointing at you then back to herself, “As your Archon it is my duty to right the wrongs of Fontaine, and you appeared so gloomy that I had no choice but to journey off my path to check up on you!”

Shame forces its way through your body and you shake your head, holding out your sweaty palms to face her, “Lady Furina you do not need to trouble yourself with my issues, trust me.” And you shiver against her unblinking gaze, “Please, continue on your way..” You awkwardly laugh, gesturing to the street, dying inside.

Furina blinks at you, “You don’t want to share problems for me?”

You take a step back, bashfully shaking your head, “I mean no offence…”

It’s awkward.

Furina tilts her head, studying you, confused.

She is far too use to Fontainians requesting her opinions on trivial matters so much so that the blatant avoidance from you is baffling.

You scratch the back of your hand in the silence.

Lady Furina watches you, dissecting you with her eyes, trying to go over every woe that past Fontainians had brought to her omnipresent ears.

You chuckle, trying to force her gaze off of you before you melt and join the water behind you.

“You’re not watching the play?” You say, gesturing in the general direction of the Epiclese, pleading silently for her to stop looking at you like that.

She shakes her head, closing her eyes, “I’ve seen it before, it gets quite tiresome seeing the same thing over and over again.”

Oh

“Oh”

Lady Furina grins, her opposing eyes still gracing your face as if you were so easy to figure out.

“Do you…Hate your job?”

You gawk at her.

She smirks.

Jack pot.

“I’m right aren’t I? You can save your praise, I know I’m truly otherworldly when it comes to intuition.” She fans her hand up and down at you, throwing her pretty head back dramatically.

“Must be a gift from Celestia then.” You conclude, turning away from her and sitting back down at your river side.

You’re slightly peeved at her reaction and would rather not disrespect an Archon so early in your life, so you do not face her with your glare.

“Come now.” Lady Furina says, strolling over to you, “I only joke.”

The Hydro Archon was now sitting beside you, kicking her feet in the water.

This truly cannot be real.

You sigh.

Well, if she’s asking, you may as well answer.

What’s another sinner to an Archon anyway.

“Do you ever feel trapped by the wishes of another?” You ask, defeat clouding your senses as you speak.

Lady Furina stills, but you do not notice.

“My Father, asked me to keep on his legacy in Fontaine, he’s a brilliant tailor, I mean, it’s like he was born to be one…”

You trail off, and splash your foot into the water, “And I just- I’m terrible at being a seamstress, I can’t even pretend to enjoy it because I am so utterly rubbish at it.”

She’s watching you, you can feel it. It’s as intense as your emotions, you almost shy away.

“Sorry.” You mutter, “I don’t know why I’m asking. It’s not like you have to struggle with these “mortal issues.”

You laugh bitterly in the silence of your confession.

Lady Furina’s hand slightly brushes yours and you wonder if she notices.

The pair of you sit quietly for a moment, your face growing warmer in the seconds.

You’re about to apologise again, your words on the tip of your tongue before she speaks, ripping the pages from your mouth.

“I always find it fascinating to hear how Mortals think.”

“Hm?”

“How they can voice their feelings so freely, it has always struck me.” Her voice is a lot quieter, you almost mistake her for someone else.

You glance, taking in the side of Lady Furina’s face, her soft features seem burdened, you hope silently that you were not the cause of her worries.

“An Archon admiring her subjects…” You say, slicing through the quiet, “That’s quite comforting actually.”

Lady Furina tilts her head, narrowing her dainty eyebrows quizzingly, “Pardon?”

You smile, and hope it reaches both your eyes and hers. “You care. It’s kind.”

She’s watching you again, her chest rising and falling in tandem to the gentle swish of the water.

You place an arm on your knee and rest you head in your palm, feeling bold.

“It must be lonely being a God.”

And her eyes grow wide, for a split second, before she’s blinking and resuming her facade of impassive control.

“What ever do you mean?”

“There’s no higher being to think about you.” You reply, introspection fluctuating in your words before it slaps you back into reality with a cold hand.

“Uh- Pardon me, I don’t mean to call you lonely I just-”

“It’s quite alright.” Lady Furina says, straightening up, her hair brushing your shoulder and her hand moving from yours. “You did not mean any harm.”

She moves to stand, and you watch, perplexed.

“You have the freedom to quit.” She says simply, “There is no higher deity forcing you to stay.” And she smiles, “All will be ok.”

She leaves as fast as she had arrived and you’re left alone to think.

Strange you think.

You hope you didn’t offend her.

—

When it’s not raining, the sun has a habit of overstaying her welcome.

It’s absolutely roasting in Fontaine, and so when Chiori asked if you would stay behind to finish your garment after work hours, you jumped at the opportunity to relish in the cool breeze of the back rooms.

Besides, you feel less embarrassed working by yourself, with nobody around to mock your gowns.

You flinch as you pierce the skin of your finger, watching as a maroon red slides into your palm.

You wipe it on your dress, it clashes with the colour.

“Do you always make a habit of wearing the most..peculiar garments?”

You jump, dropping your needle onto the sickly pink fabric, you wince as it falls, sure to be lost forever.

“L-Lady Furina?” You gasp, turning your body towards her, your dress swishing in your movement as you try pathetically bow your head in her exuberant presence.

“Yes “tis I.” She replies, her arms opening dramatically but her eyes stay focused on your choice of apparel. “Honestly.” She muses, “It’s no wonder they keep you back here…”

Lady Furina glances around your cluttered work room, taking in the flurry of vibrant coloured ribbons dripping out from their boxes, half finished corsets falling apart at their seams and the tatttered fabric unevenly pinned to a mannequin standing just inches away from her.

You step in-front of her, your eyes wide as you try conceal her vision of your failures, a sheepish grimace on your face.

“Um, we’re closed today, it’s only me in- uh how did you get inside-”

“I am the hydro archon.” Furina’s voice booms out, the exaggerated drawl making you cower away from her slightly, “I merely walked in.”

“I thought I had locked the door?” You questioned, taking a step back from her.

“A locked door is no enemy of mine!” She laughs, regarding you with a look oozing with pride, her chest puffed out and head raised.

“Right..” You mumble, picking at the skin on your fingers, nervously swaying back and fourth.

Your fingers are adorned with pricks from your needle, they would bleed should you continue your childish picking, yet you persist, unable to stop your absentminded jittering.

Lady Furina watches your movement, satisfaction appearing to glow in her eyes.

“Now!” She exclaims, wondering over to the only empty surface in the room, an old blue chair, faded with age.

“I need a new ribbon for my hat.” The chair creaks when Furina sits, crossing her legs and staring at you expectantly.

You think the chair isn’t even worthy enough for you to sit on, let alone the God Of Justice.

“I can..Write an order down for a ribbon for when Chiori returns?” Your voice trails off, thwarted by the dull look she regards you with at your suggestion.

“No, no, no!” Furina shakes her head, her actions reminding you of a child, “I want you to make it!”

“I beg you pardon?” Your eyes widen, and you glance around, taking in all your terrible, terrible works of fashion.

“Me?” You breathe, “Lady Furina, if I may- I clearly lack the talent to create anything, let alone something in which an archon should wear.” You hands shake slightly as she stares at you, willing yourself not to blink or look away in her ever present intensity. “You know this.”

“But I demanded it?” She cocks her head, reaching up to take her hat off, outstretching her arms to look at it intently.

Her hair falls down, it cascades down her shoulders like water and you hold yourself back from counting the waves between each strand, instead choosing to look away.

Ribbons are simple, you remind yourself.

You’re not entirely deficient in the art of fashion, you’re just…Well- you’re just you.

“So?” Furina says, her voices drags you from the inner monologue whispering in your ear, she pushes the hat in your direction, twirling it so you can view its simplicity from every angle.

Your clasp your hands together, head tilted like a dog.

“I’m thinking.. here.” Her finger rests on in the space between the crown and the brim, “A blue ribbon thats doesn’t blend in with the rest of the hat but adversely will not stand out…”

You nod, it’s curt, Furina smiles, it stretches her face and she all but glows, cheeks flushed.

“You’ll do it then?”

You scratch your arm, and sigh.

“It will look horrid.”

“It will look like it was made by you.” She replies, sweetly, her voice like the silk in which she adorned, you take a second to truly feel the implications behind her words and suddenly feel yourself become quite bashful.

Your heart ticks within your chest and like clockwork you reach your hands out for her hat, avoiding her gaze.

“A blue that doesn’t blend in but also doesn’t stand out?” Your voice is whispered, trying to act assertive but failing all the same.

“Indeed, a ribbon fit for an archon!” Furina appears to get louder the more she reminds you of her status, you cringe at her volume but turn so she does not see.

“I’ll try my best.” You hum, glancing at the box you pathetically labelled “Ribbons”.

You reach out and touch the cardboard confines, pulling it towards you and shuffling some fabric under your finger tips.

Red, yellow, green…the most hideous shade of pink ever- Dear God did you supply this?

Furina sits, twirling a strand of her hair as she watches you, taking in the chaos of your dress and your work space respectfully.

You really had such a unique flare to you.

Your dress was terribly put together, fabric seemingly falling off the skirt, which, in Furina’s opinion, was much too puffy for an average day at work.

When she leaned closer, she could see how the seams were pathetically stitched together, a bundled mess of experimentation that clearly did not work, the sheer fact she could see the stitching was enough of a sign to tell her that you had made this dress yourself.

Furina raises a hand to cover her the genuine smile that ripped across her features.

You truly were fascinating to observe.

“You chose to stay here then?”

You look back at her, a small frown on your face.

“Yea.” You say simply, “It’s just easier.”

She scoffs.

“What?” You reply, indignantly, “I’m still getting paid.”

“You’re staying for the money?”

“I’m staying to save up the money.” You retort, “As soon as I have enough I am gone, you’ll see.”

Furina laughs, you can help but feel melodic, almost sad.

You don’t know what else to do, so you smile, watching as Furina breaks eye contact immediately, coughing into her glove.

“I hope I do.” You hear her say, and you try to ignore the giddy sensation that seems to course through your veins and into your heart.

—

“Lady Furina what an i-interesting bow.”

“I know, I know! Isn’t it just fabulous.”

“It’s um rather…big?”

“Yes? Is there a problem?”

“N-no! I was merely voicing that-”

“If there is no issue then I must bid you farewell. I have a meeting with a most important diplomat, I assume you have already placed the pastries?”

“Yes Lady Furina…”

“Good.”

—

On days when you aren’t in the boutique, you write to your Father.

You write pages upon pages of frustrated scribbles, voicing your resentment of his craft and the comparison to your own, writing furiously about how much you wish to be freed from your job and allowed to travel with him to nations far and wide.

In the end you send none of it, opting instead to write false truths about how honoured you are to work in the darkest parts of his shadow, and how gracious you are for his talents.

You lick the envelope seal and pop it thru the post office window, smiling softly at the old lady behind the glass.

It’s raining in Fontaine today, dark clouds pulsing in the sky, above you, soaking the fabric of your skirt.

It always seems to rain after a trial.

You shake your head. Damn, you should have brought an umbrella.

When you pass by a group of children you hear their yells, pitiful pleads of; “Hydro dragon, hydro dragon don’t cry!”

And you smile and whisper it under your breath as you look to the sky.

Your thoughts circle back to Furina, you hadn’t seen her as much, especially not with the growing fears of the flood of Fontaine.

You wonder if it’s true, wonder how she’ll solve it.

You have faith in her, you think.

There’s no way you’ll drown before you can leave to travel.

There’s no way Fontaine’s Archon would let you all perish under the power of Hydro when she herself is the embodiment of the element.

You have faith.

—

There’s nothing you truly dread more than presentations to the Archon and her people.

And there’s nothing you hate more than how Champvallon, who was standing in for Chiori due to her endeavours in Inazuma, was currently mumbling under his breath at your choice of dress.

You had been running late, quite literally, the ends of your dress stained with dirt, dying the pale blue fabric brown and green.

“You’ll have to stand in the back girl.” He grumbled, his moustache dipping slightly into his mouth, pushing your shoulders and making you move behind your fellow seamstresses, grey eyes pinched into slits as he chastised you.

You heard one of your coworkers giggle from behind her hand, whispering to another about your ill fashioned garments matching your deplorable creations of fashion.

You bit your tongue and glanced at the wooden floor beneath you.

She isn’t wrong, you think, thank Celestia that your tailoring would never see the light of day.

Lady Furina and her entourage enter the room moments later, you think Furina appears to glow and wonder if your eyes are playing tricks on you, or if this is some strange phenomenon one achieves when becoming an archon.

You shake your head and join your party’s collective bow.

You and Furina had grown closer, although, the margin of closeness was confined between her passing by the boutique window and waving in when she saw you, smiling cheekily as she took in your plethora of dresses that just appeared to get more ridiculous with time.

You had begun to crave these moments of seeing her, positioning yourself closer to the window, as to ensure you did not miss her.

You don’t understand why.

Maybe you just liked to see her smile.

…“Lady Furina, we at Chioriya Boutique thank you for allowing us to present our garments for you today.” Champvallon declares. You cringe at his sickly sweet voice that deepens in tone as he continues his speech.

The man behind Lady Furina is Neuvillette, you’re sure of it. High and mighty, his stature as impressive as his title.

And under your breath you repeat the pronunciation of his name, dragging out the syllables from under your tongue.

Lady Furina allows a moment to pass before she prompts, “Ah yes! Only Fontaines best is suited for your justice party.”

The presentation from the boutique takes hours.

Furina catches your eye a few times, and smiles, it’s subtle enough that you almost believe it’s not aimed at you. Ignoring the flutter of your heart everytime her eyes meet your own.

The final designs are being brought out when suddenly you see a creation that makes your heart drop.

Sitting on a cushion, is a broach.

An ugly, bedazzled broach that you were sure you had thrown out.

And it was being carried over to the justice team by a worker who stares at it confused.

“And here we have a broach for the Archon herself.” Says Champvallon, who is still yet to turn his head to view your horrendous work.

You’re paralysed, hands shaking trying to think of a way you can remove the jewellery without causing a scene.

“We hope you adore it as much as we adored making-” Champvallons voice trails off and he looks at the cushion, his eyes widening as he finally see’s what he’s presenting.

You hear the party behind Furina collectively stop their idle chatter and stare.

Everyone looks.

Nobody says anything.

“And who is behind the creation of this…thing?”

You want to die. Truly.

Your heart is in your throat and feel sick, raising a trembling hand as you step forward, your eyes stuck to the ground.

You’re sweating, palms clammy as you take a breath, preparing to be fired in-front of Lady Furina and her circle. Shame appears to drip off your brow and onto the crevices of your cheeks.

“It was me Sir.” You mumble, your voice weak, “But it was an accident I swear!”

Looking towards Lady Furina, you bow your head, pleading silently for her forgiveness, “I never meant to offend.”

“You foolish, troublesome girl.” Hisses Champvallon, his eyes narrowed as he walks towards you.

You bite your lip, and apologise profusely although you know it will not matter.

“Lady Furina.” Champvallon says as he reaches your side, plastering an ugly smile on his furious face, concealing his bitter dissatisfaction.

“I will send someone immediately to retrieve your actual broach, please, hand that one over to one of the maids, I will dispose of it as soon as possible.”

“No need.” Lady Furina says, halting the conversation instantly with a raise of her glove covered hand.

She glances at the miserable looking broach and then towards you, you hold her gaze for a moment before she smiles, recognition flickering across her decorated eyes, finishing her examination of your face.

“I’d like to keep it.”

“Lady Furina?”

Holding the broach in her hands, she raises it to her face, almost as if fascinated by the shameful stitching and the odd colour scheme.

“Lady Furina.” Champvallon stutters, moving away from you, “Your kindness knows no bounds b-but surely you would prefer something a little more..well pleasing to the eye?”

You stare at the back of his head as he leaves your side, counting the freckles on his neck to steady yourself.

“It’s unique, it’s different, Fontainians are known for their eloquence, and I as the God of Hydro must always be challenging these trends.”

Furina peers over her hands to stare at your boss, a dainty eyebrow raised.

“You wouldn’t dare to challenge an Archons will, would you?”

Champvallon splutters, his face warming to a putrid red, his arms rising up as if pleading to surrender.

“N-No I merely thought that-”

“Then it is settled.” Lady Furina laughs, leaning back in her chair and glancing at you.

In your daze, you barely register the tiny wink she sends you way, eyes too focused on the way you broach was now sitting snug, amongst the fabric of her outfit.

It stuck out like a thorn grips the side of a rose and you grimace.

It was ugly, inarguably so.

Neuvillette clears his throat, eyes sweeping over your trembling figure.

“It was you who made this?” He ponders, head tilted slightly.

Your eyes snap to his, and you nod, it’s clumsy and awkward and you hate yourself.

“Um, yes your Honour, I made it.”

“It’s very interesting.” His voice is light, as if trying to filter out the tension pulling the conversation to a standstill, “The yellow and the pink are an unusual yet unique combination, very bright to the eye.”

You breathe out a small smile, as Lady Furina nods her head. “Yes, yes, indeed.”

“Thank you Monsieur Neuvillette, Lady Furina.”

You’re bowing again, chastising yourself for never taking the time to learn how to properly bow for an Archon, and then you’re leaving, hands still shaking, but head lifted just a little bit higher.

Furina doesn’t see you leave, too busy tracing the colours of her broach, smiling down at the terrible stitching as if it were weaved in silk and gold.

The presentation finishes with an awkward finality, with all eyes subconsciously darting down to look at your broach on Furina chest, wondering what in Fontaine their Archon was thinking.

—

You don’t know how, but Lady Furina had became a regular in your life now.

Always managing to catch your eye when you’re walking the streets of your home land.

Popping up randomly behind you just to greet you before leaving.

It appeared she worked in patterns, as if she was use to working by a routine.

You almost assume she appears there on purpose, it’s always far too convenient for it to be by chance.

“Y/N!” You hear one day, you’re sitting outside enjoying your lunch break as Lady Furina approaches you.

You hear a bustle and suddenly Fontainians are flodding the streets, clamouring over to her, crowding her.

You smile as she appears to soak up the attention, flaunting her hands in every direction, acknowledging everyone, one by one.

The people don’t seem to think about the prophecy when Focalor herself is before them, too busy trusting her with their lives to care.

You catch her gaze after a moment, and she puffs out her chest, as if trying to impress you.

Your heart aches.

You blink.

…That’s a strange feeling.

“Now now, my faithful subjects.” She begins, “I must take my leave now, I have very important business to attend to!”

You hear the groans of her people, as they beg her to stay, but reluctantly they remove themselves from her and walk away.

It’s just you and her now and she gestures for you to follow her.

You grow nervous, knowing there are watchers.

You hear them whisper behind their hands, hear them questioning why the “crazy girl from the boutique was the centre of the Hydro Archons attention.”

You cringe, but follow her anyway, your steps timid under eyes.

You think you’d follow her anywhere, but that could just be your adrenaline talking, your heart thumping within the confines of your chest.

“Lady Furina,” You say when you reach an empty alleyway, away from the eyes of Fontaine.

You pause, taking in the cracked bricks in the surrounding walls. “This is…Well- I’ll be honest it’s creepy.”

“Huh.” She says, turning to face you, “It’s more private no?”

“It’s a dark alleyway.” You deadpan.

Furina laughs, taking your hand in a wild moment of humour.

Dear God you hope you aren’t sweating.

“Never fear!” She declares, “As long as I’m here, nothing can harm you.”

Her words draw out a feeling that you don’t allow yourself to delve into, choosing instead let her hold your shaky hand without pulling away.

“I never got to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

You blush.

“For saving my career the other day.”

You see Furinas eyes move, as if trying to recall.

“Oh! The showing.”

You nod, “Thank you for…being so kind.”

You smile at her, and her eyes drops to your teeth in one fast, graceful motion before travelling back to your eyes.

“Always.” She replies, as if it was the simplest concept to her, like washing your hands or falling asleep.

Your face is on fire.

Gods your hands are definitely sweaty now.

Lady Furina shakes her head, as if pulling herself together.

“Now! I’m inviting you to tea.”

What.

“Sorry?”

“Tea. With me, together.”

“No, no I-I got that.”

She smiles, “So?”

“Why in Teyvat would you want to have tea with me?” You question, hope blooming in your chest, overpowering your habit of avoidance.

Furina stills, her face filled with confusion that you don’t get.

“You don’t want tea with me?” Shadows seem to cover her face, and you pull your hand from hers to frantically wave them in front of you.

“No no! Don’t misunderstand me! I’d love to, oh my God there’s nothing I’d enjoy more it’s just that-”

“Just that what?”

“You’re an archon?”

Furina frowns.

“What does that have to do with anything? I’m asking you to join me as a friend, not as an Archon.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Oh.”

You know of your less than extraordinary appearance, and the simplicity of your life. You know that imagining anything more with an Archon is a fantasy so baffling that it even embarrasses you.

But you still can’t fight the disappointment resonating in your chest at the stupid word “Friend”.

Furina doesn’t seem to notice your deflation, instead probing you for an answer. Her hand reaching up to hold your arm, tugging you closer to her.

There’s a hopeful, cheeky look in her eye that you think could persuade even the most hellish of Demons to stand down.

“Well? You’ll join me?”

You sigh, and try to throw on a smile.

You feel like a puppet, your grin has to be ugly, repulsive, even so, you maintain it with cracked continuity.

“Sure.”

—

What does one wear to a date visit with an Archon?

You hate everything you own.

You almost rip your nails off in frustration after the fourth attempt to dress yourself fails.

This is terrible, everything is terrible.

Archons why do you own such ugly clothes!

You hear a knock at your door, and you jump, lifting your head to see Chiori staring at you, her unwavering gaze filtered with confusion.

“Chiori?” You ask, trying to hide the mess of your room.

Or well, her room, saying you were technically leaching off of her house until you could save up enough money to move.

She raises an eyebrow, a silent question of your antics, and you sigh.

“I have nothing to wear.”

“Hm.” Chiori responds, her lip going between her teeth as she takes in the mess of your clothing.

“And since when do you care what you wear?”

You scoff, offended.

“I always care!”

“Right…”

—

You think Chiori was sent by Celestia.

No really, you do.

Especially now when you’re twirling infront of your mirror, admiring her artistry on your body.

“It’s beautiful Chirori.” You whisper, your finger tracing the delicate stitching, enamoured by the sheer amount of detail on your gown.

“It’s hardly my best.” She replies, batting your hand away to finish the seam, “But all my other work is being used for the Fashion festival.”

You grin.

“I get the leftovers then.” You say cheekily, daring to wink at her.

Chiori shakes her head, “You get what I feel is right for you, and this…” She gestures to your dress, “Does look beautiful on you.”

Thank you Celestia you repeat in your head, Thank you for finally giving me a break.

—

You meet Furina at the Palais Mermonia.

She spots you as you walk in, and beckons you to a room across the hall.

Tiny Melusines greet you, and you smile at them, reaching down to pat their little heads.

Furina stills as she takes you in, fully looking at you.

“You look different.” She states, and you stop your movements entirely.

“You’re dressed…” Furina trails off, and your face warms.

“Nicely?” You finish, a teasing smile on your lips, “For a change?”

She shakes her head.

“You always look nice, it’s just jarring to see you wear something so well fitting.”

Her eyes trail along your figure, and you flush, your mind unable to comprehend your compliment.

Furina suddenly pulls herself out of her trance and smiles, putting out a hand for you to take.

“Never-mind that now!” She beams, “Desert time! Come, come!”

And you’re alone with Furina, your hand in hers.

She leads you over to a table adorned with confectionery to last over a hundred life times.

“Do you drink tea? Or would you rather Fonta?” She asks, turning her head to glance at you, and you rip your eyes away from your conjoined hands.

“Uh, tea, tea is good.”

Lady Furina looks at you, her eyebrow raised, “Alright, sugar?”

“Huh!!?”

“Sugar? As in, do you want sugar?”

“Oh! Yes of course!”

You pause, and Furina continues to look at you.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Are you taking sugar?”

Dear God, how are you so pathetic?

“Yes please.” You say silently, embarrassment morphing your face, forcing your head to fall to look at the floor.

Furina sets your yea in front of you, before pulling a chair over to sit next to you.

She watches the way your body seems to shrink in on itself, you hand fiddling with the loose fabric of your gown.

You nervous, and Furina scowls.

She doesn’t like this.

“What’s going on hm?” She asks plainly, and you restrain yourself from jumping at her forwardness.

“I-I’m sorry?” You attempt to delay, taking a sip of your teeth, burning your mouth.

“You seem..off.” Furina says, her voice slightly drawn out, a frown on her features. “Have I done something?”

“What? No! Absolutely not you haven’t done anything…” You stammer out, a fake laugh breaking the barriers of your teeth as you try to compose yourself.

“Then why-”

Your eyes dart around the table, choosing to make eye contact with the bread than with her.

“It’s just a lot like wow I’m having tea with a God!”

Furina stirs her tea slowly, her eyebrows furrowed.

“I thought we were past this?”

“Sorry?”

“You seeing me as a God?”

You blink, and Furina takes a sip of her tea.

“You..You are a God though, you’re my God?”

Furina thinks the tea turns sour in her mouth.

“Technically, I suppose so, but I believe us to be friends?” She sets her cup down, and looks at you, her cheeks slightly red. “Am I mistaken?”

You clamour to explain yourself, your arms reaching out as if trying to slow time, ignoring the painful tug of your heart at that stupid word again.

“N-No of course we’re friends!” You stammer, “It’s just…Well I-”

“Then there’s no reason for you to be nervous.”

You nod.

And then something happens.

Something switches.

And suddenly Furina isn’t merely looking at you,

She examining you.

“Unless.” She starts, and you feel a truly dreadful sinking feeling within your chest.

“Unless there’s..Something else bothering you?”

And every facial expression you display is analysed before you, every twitch of your eyebrow, the way your eyes widen and the way you seem to stop breathing.

Furina leans forward, an emotion so humanly desperate flickering across her face.

An emotion she is yet to understand.

Your lips part and you truly do not know what to say.

It’s foolish, to ever consider yourself worthy, to share a reciprocated love with your God. You remind yourself bitterly.

You’re confused, anguished, disheartened by her referral to you as a friend and yet, you do not know what to say.

So you clear your throat.

And breathe in.

“I do not know what you mean Lady Furina.” You whisper, and it’s wrong, wrong, wrong.

And Lady Furina waits only a sheer second, before she’s leaning back in her chair and raising her head.

Somethings off.

“Then let’s us drink together as friends.”

You could swear then, that Lady Furina looked human.

You would stand trial on the fact that you saw her deflate with disappointment in the most mortal like way. You’d swear an oath.

But then you blink and the Hydro Archon blinks back.

And you’re sure you were mistaken.

—

There’s rumours in Fontaine.

There’s rumours everywhere, this isn’t a new concept to you.

But this is different, this rumour makes your blood freeze in your veins.

You heard it after you walked home from the boutique, a group of local Poisson men whispering under their breath.

“Lady Furina isn’t Fontaine’s Archon.”

You pause, turning your head as subtly as you could, creeping closer as to listen to their words.

You’re not a silent stalker and so they see you immediately.

They glare at you as they leave and you’re left confused as they made their way back to Poisson.

The next you hear of them, they’re dead.

Dissolved in the rising water.

You throw up when you see their faces in the paper, along with the heading “Fontaine’s Archon Fails Her People.”

You have faith.

You have faith.

You have faith.

—

Your faith dies with your Archon on the day of her trial.

You don’t go, you never go to trials.

But you know the happenings as if you were there to witness.

You find yourself running towards the Opera Epiclese, tripping over your own feet when the words “Death Penalty” reach your ears.

It’s silent.

Oh so silent.

And then the rain starts, and the tides grow.

And you can’t make it to the staircase of the Epiclese due to the water filling your lungs.

You’re drowning.

Screaming out bubbles of prayers to an Archon that isn’t yours.

Betrayal wrecks through your body and you’re drowning.

You’re drowning.

You’re drowning.

You’re drowning.

—

Furina cries on her watery throne.

Mourning the loss of her people, her home, her facade.

She thinks of you, briefly, thinks of your face, your clothes, your eyes.

Letting herself smile gently, she allows her tears to wash away her role.

It was nice to play a God.

If only she could save them.

—

.

.

.

.

You’re nervous.

You keep pacing back and fourth, pathetically trying to figure out a way in which you can knock on the door of Furina’s house, and speak with her like humans.

After the flood, you found yourself bed bound, your lips tainted blue and breath engulfing you so vigorously that you coughed until your eyes stung red.

The man who saved you kissed your hand when you woke up, crying out that he thought you wouldn’t make it.

You smile at him and thank him.

“I owe you my life.” You had whispered.

Lady Furina was no longer Fontaines Archon.

Gone into a state like hiding from the public, terrified of their outrage.

The nurse that cared for you, informed you of as much, recounting how the Iudex Neuvillette had saved Fontaine, saved you.

And you cried when she left you, tucked up in a hospital bed, weeping over the unknown.

You can’t face her. You conclude.

Not because you didn’t want to but because you had absolutely no idea how to begin.

Would she still regard you with such kindness despite you knowing everything?

How do you convey how you feel for her, when you truly do not know who she even is?

You heart sinks to your stomach and you walk away, hands dropping to your sides. Forcing yourself to move on, and to let fate guide you as far away from Fontaine as it could lead.

You hear a door open, but don’t make the connection until you hear your name being called from behind.

“Y/N!”

You freeze, glancing over your shoulder timidly, staring towards the very God woman you had grown so fond of.

Staring at you humbly on her doorstep.

“Lady-Miss Furina.” You reply, your hands trembling and voice shaking, turning to face her fully.

Her cheeks were flushed as though she made her way to the door in a hurry, eyes narrowed and yet you could not see a trace of annoyance in the depths of her pupils.

“You-” She starts, breathless as if realising that her action of following you would lead to confrontation for the first time, “I saw you.” She pointed up to her arched windows and your face flushes, mortified.

Of course she had.

You say nothing, trying to think of an excuse, anything to dissipate the tension you feel in your bones.

“…You weren’t going to come in?” She questions, her voice small, unbefitting for a woman who use to bellow to the masses with the unfiltered confidence of a Deity.

And you stare, and stare and stare . Your eyes moving over her face, her attire, the stupid bow on her hat.

You’re utterly speechless, profoundly so.

Unable to say anything of value to the woman in which you swore that you-

Furina sighs, her shoulders dropping, hat slipping forward on her head.

Taking your silence for resentment, she accepts your unfettered anger as atonement for her sins.

“I see.” She mumbles plainly, turning to go back inside her house.

And it’s said with such bitter regret and vile disappointment that you find words spilling from the confines of your lips, desperate to call her back.

“I quit.” You frantically say, voice meek.

And Furina stops so you continue.

“Working for Chiori.” You clarify, taking a step forward.

The sun appears to intrude on your conversation, the early morning light presenting itself from behind the brazen buildings of Fontaine, eager to listen.

It makes her complexion golden, the blue strands of her hair, now short, appearing to glow in its wake.

Furina opens her mouth, then closes it, shaking her head defiantly before he’s facing you again, and you’re so close yet so far.

“I needed a change.” You whisper, and she appears to lean closer to hear you, to read the way the words fall from your lips.

You don’t know why this is the first thing you wish to discuss with Furina.

There’s countless other things you could spew, the mirage of questions you have resting in the back of your throat, the confused, recount of events, yet you chose to say none of it for sake of talking about yourself.

You’re selfish, perhaps cruel, but God you just wanted to talk to her.

Furina looks at you, her eyes wide, the sun catches the blue and draws out the sparkle as she looks at you. You drown.

“I’m…I’m glad.” She whispers, “You hated it there.”

“I did.”

You step towards her, keeping your hands still, resting at your sides limp.

“You-” You start, clearing your voice, terrified to overstep, “I mean- Did you hate being an Archon?”

Furina doesn’t move, her cheeks painted rouge with the mention of her role.

Then slowly, subtly, she nods, once up and once down. You almost miss it.

You smile, your eyes crinkling trying to express your endless empathy through one look.

“Then I’m glad you stepped down.”

And Furina wants to kiss you.

She feels it in her mortal soul, amid the beautifully soft way you voice your smile, the desire to be human with you and to make you hers.

She breathes and you watch.

“I’ll miss your silly clothes.” Furina sighs, and you giggle.

“I still wear my silly clothes.” You bite back, and she shakes her head before moving a finger along the underside of your jaw.

“You’re beautiful.” She says, and you take her role of silence, stunned.

Furina lifts her hand, and places it on your cheek, looking down avoiding your eye. “And so boundlessly fascinating.”

“I can’t quite explain it I just-”

You cut her off when you kiss her.

Breathing in her confession and replacing it with your own.

Two mortal souls intertwined as one on her doorstep.

She responds by pulling you closer, trailing her hand to the back of your head and smiling against your lips.

You’re not a seamstress and she’s not an Archon and yet, in this moment that’s okay.

Everything is okay.

feel free to leave a request!

Masterlist <3

artwork credits

A/N- when i say i have been wanting to write this for MONTHS i mean it- i am just so BOUNDLESSLY sick of wlw fics being fetishised and the lack of like a good wlw comfort fic in any character x reader was bothering me ! so thank u to anyone who gives this a try and reads it ! i appreciate you so so so much !!!

ALSO when i say the reader’s fashion is strange or unflattering I HAVE BEEN OBSESSED with insane 19th century dresses so i made a collection of outfits PSA when i say she (the readers) fashion is questionable I MEAN IT <3 i imagine my lovely little failed seamstress makes her own clothes from time to time bc although she’s not good at her job, she still enjoys being creative

if ur interested i made a post of her outfits here :)

thank u so so so much for reading i love u i love u i love u

#furina #furina x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #nuevillette x reader #genshin smut #genshin fluff #hurt comfort #hydro archon #wlw post #furina x female reader #AHHH

[abacus-jpg]

Anyone else not understand why people are moving to cara. Like I understand it’s because ai and shit,, but like. What confuses me is as long as your art is on the internet, aslong as you chose to post your art online anywhere, doesn’t matter where, it is prone to being stolen by ai. To me ai is nothing more then when people trace your art and call it their own. Ofc I don’t want people to do it, but ultimately that will not stop them. I do have a cara account, I was the first to claim abacus. When I tried posting there a few times I’ve been met with an error message, alongside that the app is really buggy and slow. I don’t see why people feel the need to come up with new apps to post art on when you could just use tumblr, but then the argument with tumblr is that there’s no engagement. But if we all flock to tumblr like people are flocking to cara then I don’t see why engagement would be such a big issue. Even then, if engagement is your main concern with your art I feel like you should reevaluate why you are pursuing art in the first place. I had this struggle ages ago where I didn’t feel my art was worth anything because I couldn’t cap 10 likes. But I realized, my art is for me. I’m the one that should be enjoying it, and my reason for posting now is for other people to enjoy it, so if they don’t,, I really don’t care all the much. I understand it is really detouring to post ocs and to have zero engagement, but that’s just the way art is. Unless you are producing fanart consistently of shit that is made into content farms, I really don’t see how you can garner a following just doing ocs. That’s why, doing art for your own sake is more important than trying to please everyone. I can guarantee there’s atleast one stranger on the internet that will fw your stuff the way you want. And the more you post, the more the number will grow. Most of the time it’s gradual, but one goes to two, two goes to three. And maybe you’ll only get one or two. But the important thing is, there’s someone. If you feel like you have no one, remember your art is for yourself. You’ll always have one, even if that is yourself. This might all seem contradictive. But trust, only you matter when it comes to your own artwork.

This “speech”, if you can call it that, isn’t to deter people from drawing and posting their ocs. This is just to say, engagement shouldn’t matter. As long as you’re happy, that’s all the matters. Post and draw what you want aslong as it’s not straight ripping from someone else. Idc.

This whole thing was supposed to be abt Cara but it turned into a uhh,, Ted talk of sorts. I’m not saying people shouldn’t use cara, if it works for them then by all means go for it. But personally I will not be making it my main form of social media. In my opinion, it’ll be like that other art app people were using for a week before they forgot abt it, I forget the name of it but I remember the interface was a light pink, similar to Instagram,, but somehow worse.

IM GONNA SPECIFY THAT I DONT CONDONE AI STEALING PEOPLES ART EITHER,, just putting that out there because some people have a way of misunderstanding or misinterpretating things. Which is okay!! Because some people genuinely get confused and that’s alright. But like please don’t use so first handedly. With that being said, I’m just a nobody on the internet so why would you listen to me,, you won’t. But i uhh,, am gonna put that there anyways

Thanks if you read allat,, idk why you would but that’s anyways I guess😭😭😭

#artists on tumblr #fanart #art #my art #digital art #original character #original characters #rant post #art rant #ai #artifical intelligence #ai rant #uhh #digital artist #tradtional art #traditional artist #ocs #oc #instagram #cara #meta

[writingquestionsanswered]

maybe there is already a post about it, but it couldn't find it in the master list so im gonna ask it

how do i start?

like, how do i do the initial brainstorming? i usually use "ask a question" but when i do not have anything, just an open concept, that doesnt work

thanks <3

Finding Your Spark of Inspiration

I'll be honest... it is really, really hard to start from absolute scratch when writing a story. If you don't even have a spark of inspiration--an idea about conflict, character, or world--figuring out a story is very much a search for a needle in a haystack.

Having said that, there are some ways you can jump start ideas, but first I want to talk about some things you can do long term to make sure you always have fresh ideas at the ready:

1 - Keep Your "Creative Well" Full - Ideas can't come from nothing, so it's very important we keep our heads full of the kind of information ideas tend to come from: other fictional stories, real life stories, current events, people, places, etc. My post Guide: Filling Your Creative Well walks you though the things you can do to make sure you keep your mind full of these kinds of inspiration sources.

2 - Write Everything Down - It's a really good idea to keep a notebook or word document where you can jot down random ideas that occur to you or things that inspire you, because nine out of ten times, those things will occur in a moment where they can't immediately be applied to a story. If you write them down, they'll be ready made "sparks" to give you ideas for a new story when you need it. My idea journal includes quotes, snippets of overheard dialogue, inspiring places, current events, conflict/character/setting ideas, interesting concepts, dreams, story prompts, story titles, character names, place names, business/corporation names... you name it. When I need a spark of inspiration for a story or story idea, I go there and most of the time find exactly what I need.

In the meantime, you can jump start ideas by doing a number of different things. I talk about them in my post Where to Find Story Ideas. My posts Coming Up with Ideas and Plot and Guide: How to Turn Ideas into a Story will help you fine tune those ideas into a story.

Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

#wqaadvice

[thighguys]

HAPPY PHASQUERADE EVERYONE!!! excited and scared for what this pride month will bring, but for now, have these doodles of me and my two favorite guys!!! thanks again to @serendipnpipity for setting this up 💖💖💖 you are SUCH an asset to the tumblr phandom and i am so forever grateful to have you as one of my amazing mutuals ☺️☺️ love you ser 💪💖

alright! hi! for those people who don't know me, i'm esmé! my main is @castrotophic so come say hello to me and i will probably love you forever 💖💖 my pronouns are they/them, i'm bisexual and enby, i am 18 years old, and i'm a pre-med/latin double major in boston!!! fun fact: i am 6' 1/2" tall and my favorite color is green 💚 and now for my dnp art 💖💖💖 this is the first finished art piece i have posted on here so im kinda nervous lol... i don't have the best markers so forgive the spotty coloring but i'm actually pretty proud of how this turned out!!! (ser i gave up on the sequins 😬 they're harder than they seem)

this piece is also art for @natigail's FANTASTIC fic Strictly Come Dancing but make it GAY which EVERYONE should go read asap!!! genuinely one of my favorite fics i have ever read, it had me grinning like an insane person the entire time i was reading it. the scene i drew is their tango to Toxic by Britney Spears and it's one of my favorites honestly 💖💖💖 the outfits really popped off the page and i felt like it was a perfect fit for the masquerade prompt!!! genuinely soooo happy about this event and so excited to go check out everyone else's work!!! @phanniemasquerade here goes!

#phan #dan and phil #dnp #dip and pip #phandom #phil lester #dan howell #strictly come dancing #phannie masquerade #phannie #phasquerade #phan art #phanart #phart #phartist #daniel howell

[laura1633]

hi im that one Anon that is obsessed with a/b/o Lestappen + oscar and i have more ideas

When sleeping in bed, Oscar and Charles would normally sleep on either sides of Max, Charles with his face in the crook of Max's neck while Oscar leans against his chest.

Since Oscar is getting more muscles by the day (Oscarm omfg..) he could definitely manhandle max if he wanted to, but doesn't normally because he's softer in sex, when he's in his rut or max is in heat he tries to be soft, yet his alpha instincts take over most of the time

Charles on the other hand will manhandle max any day of the week, but always makes sure he's comfortable.

If Charles and Oscar are in their rut, and Max is not home because he's maybe at the factory or doing media stuff? Alpha x Alpha my roman empire

You and me both anon, I am also a little obsessed a lestappen + Oscar a/b/o. Love all these takes.

Omega Max would be super snuggly so it's nice that he has two alphas pressed against him to keep him cosy. Sexually he would love that Oscar and Charles are both different in bed, he gets the best of both worlds.

I'm thinking that when they are out and about Max has two alphas to pull out his chair and hold his hand and just generally give him the princess treatment. When he was younger Max thought no alpha would want him but now he has two wonderful alphas who both dote on him and reassure him. There is a lot of praise that goes on!

Oscar and Charles do generally give most of their attention to Max just because that is how their alpha instincts guide them. To start with a lot of their physical interactions are geared towards turning Max on because the omega loves to see his alphas together but then they realise they are both super into it so become perfectly happy to help each other with ruts or just generally be sexual with each other. Max is really content because he wants his alphas to be close with each other.

#laura1633 asks #Lestappen + Oscar a/b/o

[bucketfullofstrawberries]

Hi! Came here to tell you I didn't know the meaning of a comfort character until Edgar. Nowadays when I'm feeling down, all I have to do is make a drawing of him and it inmediately brightens my mood.

You have made a character who is genuinely impactful in other people's lives, who feels like a person in his own right. Who is and always will be loved by many, who doesn't feel like he's just fiction.

He is wonderful, and everyone who has made art of him knows that. And we all are grateful that you made him.

❤️

EXCUUUSEEE MEEEEEE UOU CANNOT SAYY ALL OF THAT AND KEEP YOURSELF ANONYMOUS

EXCU-HU-HUUSEEE MEEEE,,,, OUUHH.... OUHOOOA......... I'M CRYING ALL OVER YOU IM WEEPING AND I'M CRYING AND IM TURNING YOU INTO A SOPPING WET THING BEAST WITH MY TEARS, FUCK YOU!!!!!!

No, SERIOUSLY though- THIS IS SO FUCKING SWEET AND HEARTFELT WHAT THE HELLL!!??? WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!! IT TOOK ME A GOOD FEW HOURS TO ACTUALLY SIT DOWN AND WRITE SOMETHING FOR THIS WHOLE THING BECAUSE I JUST 💥IM NEARLY FUCKING SPEECHLESS HERE, GOOD FUCKING MORNING,

Edgar being a comfort character to you is SUCH a MASSIVE fucking compliment, even if I don't have a bloody CLUE who you are I am CRYING ALL OVER YOU SO MUCH!!!! BECAUSE!!! THAT'S KIND OF WHAT MY AIM WAS, IN A WAY???

I really don't know HOW I pipelined from a basic white Geography Teacher looking beta FUCK to this.. whimsical, Jolly Holiday, Mary Poppins-esq British man and yet STILL kept him as a Narrator, but I DID!! BUT OVER TIME, instead of keeping him as a sopping wet white cat crying in a corner, I slowly started building up a little story for him and thought to myself "..Huh. It'd be cool if he was quite different from the majority of the Narraverse... maybe I could make him fun and full of whimsy!! It might make people happy!". Because I like to make things different most of the time, it's something I've managed to be quite well known for! AS WELL AS THAT, It's an absolute joy to draw and write him as a character for myself BUT -- seeing people genuinely enjoy him as a person is something I LOVE to see because I LIKE making people happy.. and having him become a COMFORT CHARACTER, of all things, is such an honor and a privilege.. it wasn't anticipated from me at the start at ALL, But I'm SO happy you see him that way!!

And I FULLY SUPPORT, ENCOURAGE AND CONDONE Edgar being used as a source of ANY COMFORT, ANY WHICH WAY POSSIBLE!!! If he's a source of feel good energy for you, then go NUTS!! DO WHAT YOU LIKE WITH HIM, I'M NOONE TO JUDGE!! This doesn't just go out to you, either, this goes out to EVERYONE and ANYONE!!

And I'm sure Edgar HIMSELF will be MORE than delighted to provide some sunshine to your rainy days and moonlight to your cloudy night skies! I MEAN IT!! I REALLY DO!!

It brings me IMMENSE joy that I'm able to make characters that impact peoples lives in such a positive way.. because I KNOW how that feeling feels because so many characters other PEOPLE have made makes ME feel the same way.. and if EDGAR can achieve THAT with a wider audience then that's something I'll always be proud of.. and that's something that encourages me to keep pumping out content because it's something I LOVE to do and I'm more than happy to make sure people know that they're loved and they SHOULD feel loved, not just by me, but by Edgar himself. He's been carefully made over a YEAR in order to be a pleasant and good character and I'm SO happy I can convey that well enough for people to recognize him as good, because he's MEANT to be good,

But having someone say this to me UP FRONT, IN MY FACE, WALTZING IN THROUGH MY DOOR LIKE IT'S NONE OF THEIR BUSINESS IF I'LL CHOKE AND CRY ABOUT IT, I'm literally SO grateful, ETERNALLY grateful that I'm able to provide a character to be.. well, a sort of place of Sanctuary. Making peoples faces light up, getting excited about him.. it's nothing that makes me feel egotistical or big headded, it's just. Lovely to know that I'm making people happy with what I do. That's what I've wanted to do for a majority of my life, make smiles and bring cheer. I guess Edgar's -- kind of the EMBODIMENT of that.

He won't always be a Narrator... I've made my mind up about that. But he'll always live on with that significant mark he made in the community he was founded upon. THIS community, this lovely community that isn't always picture perfect but there's just SO many extraordinary and sweet people in it that I'll always be fond of it, of this. Of everyone!! Of The Stanley Parable, Narraverse and Paraverse & All of the Above and below!

TLDR: I wanted to make a Character that people could find joy within. And I'm proud to say that I did. And I'm so so SO grateful to those who keep the magic alive and love and support not me, but the journey Edgar's had and how far it's taken him.

I love you guys so so so sosososososo SOOOOO much it's insane From who you are, to what you do and what you make..even just the little things you are SO loved..

And Edgar loves you guys ALL the MORE!! <3

..AND YES I DID START CRYING WHILE WRITING THIS, SHUT UP, I'M EMOTIONAL, FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

#berri rambles about shit #berri asks #berri stuff #berri art #tsp #tsp narrator #ramble #tsp art #im NOT OKAY IVE CRIED OVER THIS SO MUCH STOPP

[tizzymcwizzy]

for anyone that doesn't know, i recently started school again! (that's why ive been so mia) so ill be posting class projects whenever i finish them,,, this was a figure drawing assignment :)

you can get a print of this here!

#along with moving and starting school again‚ i had a bunch of family and health stuff thrown my way at the start of this semester‚‚ #so im slowly catching up on work from this past month hsbdhdjf #my art #artists on tumblr #art #illustration #uhh i think that's all my original art tags #im really happy with how this piece turned out!!! :D #during critique someone mentioned how this felt like a representation of creative burnout and i was like omg. felt.