#Rebellious golden child

[fountainpenguin]

I've talked about Foop's learned helplessness several times before, but man... I think it really says something about his character that even when he's in a position where he could theoretically attack Vicky with no consequences (i.e. he will not be immediately zapped with the Anti-Fairy Council's magic for attacking someone he's supposed to protect), "Certifiable Super Sitter" comes along and he just... falls right back into his whimpering, submissive behavior.

Because that's the thing: Foop will never stand up to Vicky to protect himself. He screamed at the top of his lungs when the Anti-Fairy Council sent him out to find her. He took a detour to get gifts because he was afraid she'd hurt him (and she did, immediately).

He'll go along with all her demands even when he's having an absolute mental breakdown because he's holding a glass of lemonade and started thinking about fruit bats and now he's crying and throwing things and screaming. my son.

He'll lie low when she's getting cookies out of the oven, he'll let her put her feet on top of him, he will float there in silence watching her attempt to murder Poof which was heavily implied in "Timmy's Secret Wish" to be a thing that will kill Foop too, he will get pushed to his breaking point to the point he starts using green magic instead of his usual blue...

... the only time he will ever stand up to Vicky is when he's protecting Timmy or Chloe. He went down screaming in "Fairy Godcouple" while protecting Timmy... He attacked Vicky while pushing through a magical lightning attack. He did it. He won. But that was Season 9... and Season 10 comes along and he's right back to letting her push him around. He can't do it. He won't risk Vicky's wrath.

Until Vicky's going for Chloe with the chainsaw. And then he throws himself in the way. No hesitation. Because even though he's been so cruel to Chloe for several episodes, she forgives him. And he's falling apart.

He can't stand up to Vicky for himself or even for Poof (or Sammy, or his BFFs Crocker and Dark Laser), but touch the kids he cares about and he will rip you apart, no matter what pain he has to push through.

Immaculate character development for a baby who was born, chose violence within 5 seconds, and got thrown in solitary confinement when he was 1 day old. 10/10, no notes.

tl;dr - Chloe letting Foop set stuff on fire at the end of "Certifiable Super Sitter" while she hugs him and "looks the other way" is amazing. And great character development for her rule-obsessed nature, too.

Also Foop screaming "WANNA BET, BAT LADY!?" at the top of his lungs while whipping 20 million volts of electricity at Vicky and suffering lightning damage himself lives rent-free in my head <3

#Fairly OddParents #FOP #Foop #Nerdy blue bat son #screenshots #Scary Godcouple #Certifiable Super Sitter #Bat cube and associates #Red babysitter #Rebellious golden child #Perfect pink beaver boy #Big Crock #FAIRIES!

[odessastone]

kids these days only care about overconsuming fertilizer, growing outside their soil beds, and getting pollinated 🙄✋

#overwatch #lifeweaver #niran pruksamanee #im working on a little oneshot off The Light You Deserve focusing on Niran being a plant dad #i love his rebellious teen biolight lmao #the Tree of Life is his golden child tho she doesn't rebel. she's baby #she just demands to listen to kiddie tunes all day long

[mamayan]

Yandere! Dark Fae King x Darling! Changeling (Part 2)

Part 1 (Here)

cw: NSFW • Sub! Reader • Dom! Yandere • Dark/Yandere Themes • Gore/Death • Monster Fucking • Fae • Kidnapping/Imprisonment • Dubcon • Fem! Darling • Dumbification • Praise • Overstimulation • Pheromone Drugging/Aphrodisiac • Manipulation • Breeding

A/N: Upon multiple requests and asks, I’ve decided to expand and make a part 2 for Avarice and Darling’s story. Enjoy♥️

“Freak!”

“You should be ashamed to be alive! When your own sister died, how dare you appear here!”

“Jinx.”

“I hope you die worse than she. Poor soul…”

You snapped out of it when he finally left again. The nightmares of your past seemingly haunting you as the death of so many rested on your shoulders.

Your fault. It was always your fault, wasn’t it? That’s what you were after all. A jinx.

Ava… he haunted you more than anything. His eyes so dull as of late but you couldn’t find it in yourself to assure him of forgiveness you did not want to give. You’d said horrible things to him though, when he’d confessed to killing your entire village due to your pressuring. He killed your family, or at least, the only family you knew. He killed the women and children, the old and innocent. Ava had no discretion when it came to slaughtering humans.

“Of course I love you! You’re my little sister, why are you asking me such a silly question so late?” Your human sister had looked so befuddled when you’d questioned her love for you. It must’ve been a rebellious phase, for she raised you and your younger human siblings much like a mother should’ve. The mother which birthed your siblings and the child swapped for you had lost herself to alcohol and gambling, her husband and your father too loyal to leave her despite the pit she began to dig for the entire family.

Your fault.

“Come eat. This sickness of her’s seems to be affecting us all. Father shall return with a fresh kill, I’ll make a stew. You like deer stew right?” You hated it but nodded anyway, your sister’s cooking so awful it even made your father’s eyes water but… “I do. I love it… and I love you too.” You’d replied, and it was the warmest moment you remember in that small wooden house.

You’d picked your nail beds bloody, eyes numbly staring at the broken skin and wondering why it wasn’t telling you the right answer. What were you supposed to do? You couldn’t leave, even if you wanted to, and that was the problem. You didn’t want to leave Ava, because aside from your deceased sister, he was the closest living creature to your heart. He owned part of your soul now too, but you could feel him in you too. It wasn’t one sided, and while Ava certainly was full of cruelty, you knew him capable of care. He cared for you, his people and subjects, and his kingdom.

So why did he do it? Harm so many? Oddest of all, why did he abhor humans to much? He wouldn’t answer anything you asked, merely stating it was a necessity, that they needed to die, or be cleansed as he’d phrased it. You had loved a human dearly though, her memory still filling you with the familiar taste of warmth and overcooked venison. She was not a sister by blood but through life and trust.

Would Ava have killed her too?

You could only wonder endless dark halls of a castle you never saw an exit to. The windows revealing what appeared to be an entire kingdom below, built into a forest much like in tales of your childhood. This was a community, one which you now shared responsibility to help grow and flourish.

You didn’t feel like you were home though.

“Look at me.”

He’s impossible to ignore.

“I will force you if I must.”

You turn, giving the barest of glances upward, head forced to tilt completely back to meet his dark golden eyes. He, in all his immortal and frightening glory, looks tired. You admit it makes something within you ache to see it, but you aren’t ignorant to the fact that you look tired as well.

“You are not sorry at all… are you?” His lips press tight, eyes narrowing a fraction as he cocks his head, a few dark curls spilling like waves to follow the movement. He stalks closer like a predator, and even now, when you know he intends no physical harm to you, it raises your instincts to run. His towering form lowers to the floor where you’ve seated yourself, endless marble surrounding you in an empty ball room, the enormous glass window you’ve opened allowing fresh air in.

“Do you wish me to apologize for eliminating those vile creatures… or for upsetting you?” He cracks a rueful smile, teeth all sharp edges and eyes hardened by your distance. “If it is the latter little flower, then I sincerely am apologetic, I never wished to upset you.” You can tell he’s sincere, see it even, but something still nagged at you that wouldn’t leave.

“Ava…” his full attention is trained on you, “Why do you hate them? What did they do to you?”

His wings shift as he settles himself fully on the ground with you. An image unbefitting of a King yet also suiting him as he leans back on his palms and directs his gaze at the tall ceiling above.

You liked the sight of moonlight bathing him more than candle.

“I thought I loved a human once.”

You flinch, despite knowing it must’ve been so long ago, it stung nevertheless. He twitches, as if to move towards you before he stops himself and settles again, talons scraping along the floor as he continues.

“That human used my youth and ignorance against me and destroyed my entire existence for a time. I lost my position as a rightful heir and prince, lost my home and family, and lost my freedom. I stayed alone a very long time little Faery,” his gaze slides to you, glowing molten gold in rage as he remembers. “All alone, because I did the one thing no Faery is allowed to do, the most forbidden art which exists amongst our kind, all for one measly deceitful human.” His lips pull back in a grimace, even as you crawl a little closer.

He likes that your gaze is upon him again, filled with that familiar compassion and empathy he adores. He just loathes it is directed at him because of his disgusting past.

He watches as your tongue dips out to lick your lips, eyes filled with curiosity as you sit beside him, close enough to nearly touch yet not quite.

“What was it?”

“I granted them access to the Tree of Life. The tree which gave birth to all Faery kind.” His expression turns mocking, jaded as he seems to recall with perfect memory. “I had been ready to pluck the stars from the sky for that filthy ungrateful thing, and they dared to use me to gain eternal life by drinking from the tree’s fountain.”

He sees the look of astonishment and horror, clearly upset as realization dawns. It was said the Tree of Life would die if touched by human hands, destroying all of Faery kind should it occur. If it was true or not was unknown.

“…they touched it…?” You broke the dense silence first, curling your limbs around yourself as you feel the itch of your wings notify you of the awkward arch you’ve made with your spine.

Ava barks a dry laugh, dark amusement sparking in his eyes despite the serious story.

“Of course not little flower. My younger sister killed them before they could dare, becoming a hero for all Faery alike for protecting the race against a treacherous prince and a foul greedy human.”

He’s amuses himself with watching you through a small handheld mirror. Decorated in gold and jewels, the delicate ornate trinket has a spell cast to view his target at will.

You were asleep, tired from the seamstresses which had fussed so long over your dresses and you, face peaceful as you rest on the large expanse of his bed.

You sleep where he awoke this morning. Curled into the spot like you’re attempting to reclaim any warmth left over from his own slumber.

“You’re making quite a disgusting face, your majesty~” his eyes narrow as his mood sours in an instant.

“Leave witch.” He hisses, undisguised displeasure painting his sharp features as they scrunch in revolution.

“Make me faery,” a lithe feminine voice hisses back, his eyes finally lifting to acknowledge the vermillion haired woman which had appeared before him. “What has you making such a warm expression? I nearly lost my breakfast seeing it.” She glides more than walks, shamelessly spreading the floor length fur coat wrapped around her open, sitting on the arm chair of his throne.

“And your presence is going to make me gouge your eyes out and feed them to my hounds,” he flashes an equally unfriendly smile, the air becoming volatile towards the witch.

“Don’t act as if I wish to be here anymore than you wish it. You were the one who requested my potion.”

“Your potion not your presence.”

Dark eyes roll with a flutter, her red painted lip curling in disdain as she snaps her fingers, a small wooden box appearing in her palm.

“It cannot be delivered frivolously faery, or so you trust your servants so deeply?” He doesn’t answer.

She laughs, handing the box over with a smile as he pulls out a silver dagger and plunges it into his forearm.

Gold leaks from the wound, the witch quickly frowning and removing an empty vial to collect the liquid.

“Don’t be wasteful now, your blood is in high demand amongst my coven. It’s an incredibly binding agent.”

“Silence or I will bind your tongue for all eternity.”

“As if you could.” She cackles, vanished and gone before his talons could sink into her throat.

The box rests in his free hand. His distaste for the witches strong, but he admits they create the most potent and stable magical concoctions. They’re good in business too. He notes she didn’t allow a single drop of blood to go to waste before his wound sealed and closed.

“Drink for me, petal.”

You look lovely. Dressed lavishly in the finest silks and slowly becoming more confident in your true appearance. You no longer sit before the mirror and grimace, instead you play absently with your wings, more accepting as time continues.

He would rather just take you by force.

This method somewhat feeling beneath him, but in the end, he was already a wicked monster. What was this compared to his true nature?

You still curl or turn away when he touches you, less trusting of him now and though you should be, he finds it irritating. He wants to feel you melt against him again, blink your pretty eyes up at him and whisper his name with your kiss bitten lips.

You eye the delicate glass cup warily.

His clawed hand holding the pretty pink clear cup was nearly comical. He could tell by the quirk of your lip which you quickly tempered to avoid his detection. He caught it all though, still hoping he’s not forced to make you drink it. Though he doesn’t mind the act, pouring the drink in his mouth and laying his lips over your own to create a seal.

You take the cup gingerly with both hands, licking your lips as you bring it close to sniff.

“What is it…?” You look confused, nose scrunching up adorably, and he finds he wishes to kiss you there.

He’s forced to stay where he is though, aware you will wiggle and run if he touches you.

“Tea, made from milk, honey, and dried fruits.”

“It smells sweet…” you still eye him with mistrust, but you take a sip anyway, eyes lighting up as you take another. “It’s very good,” you’re not immune to bribery, “Thank you.”

For just a short moment, he feels his chest warm and a genuine smile grace his lips.

“You’re welcome, little flower. Thank you as well.”

“Huh?” You’ve finished the tea. “What for…?” His smile grows as you tilt your head in confusion.

“For being so foolish.”

You’re burning from the inside out. Tears and drool soaking your face and the bed as you cry out again.

“Why?” Digging your nails into the fabric, you find the texture appalling compared to usual, too rough and cold. “Ava…” you struggle to breathe, chest heaving as perspiration clings to you like a second skin. “It hurts…” you were fading into a blur of dizziness as your lower belly cramped again, more wetness coating your inner thighs.

“Shh…” he coos, ignoring your weak flinch as he slides his long tongue from your chin to your cheek, drinking your tears as his chest rumbles like a giant cat. “Do you need something sweet girl? Use your words.” He murmurs, groaning as he sees the amount of fluid you’ve leaked, your pussy swollen and glistening as you buck your hips and whine.

“Mean—!” He chuckles at your accusation, smiling shamelessly as he continues his chaste kisses against your skin.

“To you, petal? No, mean would be if I left you like this, no release for your poor little body.” He threatens, ignoring your silent pleas and body language for him to touch you more, keeping just enough distance to have you clawing at him to come back. “I’m nice though, I’m going to kindly fill your womb and make it all better.” It’s like a demon whispering in your ear as you writhe beneath him. His large frame cages you though, presses down on you as your bare chests connect and you can feel the thundering in his rib cage through your own. “Are you going to be good and let me breed you, little feary?”

You can’t think. Not when the promise of something hot and big going inside you, stretching you out like your body is begging for now. You nod, mind already gone as your clouded eyes connect with his own. You look high, pupils blown as he brings two fingers to his lips, opening his mouth and breaking off two of his sharp claws to blunt them.

“Spread your legs.” You obey, pliant body opening at his commands as he uses his fingers to dig into your slick gooey hole. He delights in your moans and reactions, hips moving for more friction as he fucks your tight entrance loose enough to take his cock inside you. “That’s it, petal, you don’t need to think anymore. Let go for me,” he murmurs, kissing you gently, tongue melting into your mouth while he digs his fingers up and rubs until you’re coming around his digits.

He pulls them out slowly, eyes drifting down to catch the sticky wet mess you’ve made and the jump of his cock in response. He laughs, deeply to his core as he brings them to his lips and lets you watch him clean them, blissed out expression marred with tears from pleasure and pain.

“You’re mine. For eternity, you will be always be mine.” His eyes are wild, something frightening entering them as he laughs, face so pleased and enamored you feel the urgent sense to crawl away from him, to run. “There is no escaping me. No where you can go that I won’t find you.” You feel too weak and sluggish to move, to even fight back, as his dark hand wraps around your neck, magic and gold swimming beneath his flesh. He feels warm, hotter than even you and your feverish mind. “I am no longer a patient a male, no longer content to wait and watch for results. You deny me, your mate, for humans which wanted to sacrifice you to a false deity, planned to rape and defile you,” he’s squeezing tighter, not cutting off air but blood flow instead as your mind becomes fluffy and unfocused. He speaks directly into your ear, the pointed tip curling down as he settles himself between your thighs. “They wanted to burn you, did you know? They called you a jinx, hated you, only wished you harm and destruction in the most vile and painful ways… and yet you still choose them?” He looks mad, smile filled with malicious intent and eyes glittering like jewels.

You speak with what little focus you have left…

“My sister…loved me.”

His smile falls, eyes narrowing in displeasure.

“Always…she loved me.”

He shakes his head, disapproval clear. “You think she loved you. Humans aren’t capable of love, my sweet flower.”

“You’re wrong…” he halts, watching as you weakly claw at his hold on your neck. “She loved me..! I know she did! You’re wrong! Take it back!” You cough as he releases your throat completely, eyes wide as you look at him with burning resentment even so deep under the influence of an aphrodisiac.

“I love you, but you,” you look filled with hurt, “you don’t love me.”

He’s shocked into silence as you seethe beneath him, face firm and eyes resolute as you declare his feelings for you.

He snarls, snapping his teeth at you, rage filling him as his wings spread out and magic and malice fill the air.

“I am not afraid to punish you, petal. I will not tolerate disrespect—,”

“Neither will I!” Even in tears, shaking as you are, he shifts back, the overwhelming force of your emotions startling him. “You treat me as if I am not worthy of respect, as if I’m not worthy to be listened to. You aren’t—,” you heave for air, struggling to draw in enough oxygen as you whirl on him, “—asking me. For anything. You just take…”

He’s silent, body frozen and tense as he watches you.

“Was it all a lie… when you said you’d be my friend? I thought faery couldn’t lie,” you’re in tears once more, sorrow endlessly streaming down your cheeks.

“No, don’t cry like that,” he feels oddly sick seeing you so upset like this. His frame once more curling around you, but to simply wrap you in the blanket and bring you to his chest. “We are friends, mates, I do not lie.” He whispers, cradling your body to his chest, trying to urge you to look at him.

“Friends don’t sneak away and do things that they know I wouldn’t like,” you calm after a while, swollen tear streaked face turned into his chest while he pets your hair.

He knows it must be painful, still under the effects of the drug he’d given you. His touch helping ease some of the heat.

“Okay. Okay, I was wrong, I…,” his teeth bare as he forces it past his lips, “I apologize…for not respecting your wishes…,” it makes him want to tear one of his hearts out and crush it. His hatred for humans no less despite his apology.

You look hopeful though, eyes returning some of the light he adores within you.

He’ll apologize everyday if he’s allowed to see that.

“Oh gods…!”

He’s trying to kill you. He must be.

You can’t struggle away though, no escape in sight, and true to his word Ava has filled your womb over and over again. You’re delirious on the pleasure, the second his heavy cock had entered you the earlier burning pain subsided into mind numbing euphoria. Each powerful snap of his hips has your body jolting upward, one large palm wrapped around your neck keeping you anchored. You could feel every vein and inch searing into you, eyes going in and out of focus on him face as he heaves for air and fucks you into another orgasm.

“Please, more, I need more—!” You’re reduced to a tearful mess, wantonly begging for his seed as he grimaces and fills you up again, balls drawing up tight as your cunt ripples around his length.

His face is ruined, eyes more red than gold as his pupils remain blown out, thick lashes holding a small cluster of tears as he licks his lips and continues his ravenous pace inside you. His hair clings to his face and horns, black curls damp with sweat and your cum, taking on a nearly purple hue. He wears a delirious expression like you, drugged out into oblivion as you both pant and moan as the heat devours you.

He’d felt badly for drugging you, especially as you writhed and cried in pain. His solution had not been to find the witch he’d bought the elixir from though.

He’d simply drank the remaining fluid while smiling mischievously.

“Let’s just fall into complete depravity petal,” he’d said, before your world went in and out of darkness. Only the scent of sugar and spices dominated your brain, and the feeling of fullness and completion each time he spilled his load within you.

“Are you ready for another sweet faery?” He knew you couldn’t answer, knew that words were too far away for your cotton filled mind to conjure. He asks anyway, drawing your hips off the bed, leaving your upper body limp on the soaked silks while he bounces you on and off his cock. “I’ve always known it is hard for Fae to conceive.” He speaks with a slur, as if it is liquor intoxicating him and not a lustful spell. He laughs as you cum around him, moan so breathy it appears like a silent scream as your back arches higher. “I have a good feeling it will not apply to us.” He nods, slamming down to the hilt as he collapses on you while he comes too, nose buried in your collar bone as he humps out his remaining seed and presses deep to ensure it stays.

“I think your little cunt likes being bred, gripping me so tightly so I can’t leave it,” he huffs, breathing labored as he sees you’ve lost consciousness again.

“Looks who’s mean now…” he murmurs tiredly, but his smile is fresh as he licks up your sweat and tears, cock already hardening again as blood swims in his ears like a river.

“I can’t anymore—!” It’s a squeal and a whine mixed, as Ava grunts against your throat.

“Can’t what, petal?” He asks rhetorically, humming as he slowly rolls your hardened nipple between two clawed fingers. His free hand between your legs, messily rubbing your clit as he works his cock inside you. His thrusts are no longer as violent or heavy as they were two days prior when he’d taken the drug, but his body still howled to press you flat and fill you up. To mark his mate up for all to see.

You look divine to him, too weary to even bite him anymore, nails broken from scratching at his back and arms when he’d blacked out and taken you too roughly. Even still, you looked beautiful, skin less sweat soaked and more simply damp, his care to ensure you drank water paying off in between rounds of riding him.

“I think your cunt has finally relaxed,” he teases, enjoying the sloppy squelching which echoes as he drives into you, your pussy indeed finally accepting it’s fate to be subjected to his cock for eternity. “Your womb has dropped too,” his hand stops torturing your clit to press on your lower belly, purring as you weakly complain.

“Let me rest…”

“No. I took the drug later than you, so it’s still in effect for me.” He chuckles, merrily still using your exhausted body. “Just a little more sweet girl, be good for me,” he moans, head falling back as his eyes close in bliss, cock twitching once again to fill you up.

“I truly am…with child?” His eyes are as wide as your own, cradling you close away from the vermillion haired woman who sneers at Ava.

Rolling her eyes, she nods, fingers pressed to her temples as if her mind is aching.

“Yes. You are with child, as I’ve confirmed four times already. Congratulations little Queen, you managed to love the unlovable.”

“Watch your tone and words witch,”

“My race is not an insult you foul monster—!”

They halt as you giggle, features radiant as you smile and hold your hands over your belly.

“A baby!” Ava is stricken at your delight, throat closing as something sweet tickles him inside. Your floral scent warmer these days, his keen hearing picking up on the second beating of a heart quickly.

“Yes,” he nods, like a love sick dog he grins and answers each time your repeat it in amazement.

The witch truly feels revolted to her core, but wordlessly leaves a book for new faery parents. Leaving without thanks as the happy family gushes over the good news.

As if the disgusting King didn’t know how powerful an aphrodisiac and fertility drug he used on his mate was.

She shrugs, teleporting away to her coven to return to work, minutely pitying the poor faery captured by the dark Fae.

They’re the only fae that can lie after all.

Dividers/@cafekistune

#Fae #Dark Fae King #Yandere Fae #Yandere Fae x Fem! Darling #yandere x darling #male yandere x fem darling #Dark fae king x changeling reader #part 2 #faecore #yancore #monster smut #faery smut #fae smut #yandere smut

[merakiui]

boyfriend.

yandere!female!riddle rosehearts x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, implied (cyber)stalking, cheating, dub-con, alcohol/intoxication, characters written as 18+ note - riddle seeks to prune the filthy weeds from your life, starting with your ill-mannered boyfriend. // inspired by dove cameron's boyfriend.

i. i can’t believe we’re finally alone. i can’t believe i almost went home. what are the chances? everyone’s dancing, and he’s not with you.

Riddle has never traveled to this part of the city before—the seedy, unsavory sliver overshadowed by towering skyscrapers, illicit, perilous secrets tucked away in every alley. It’s not as if she’s here under duress. Although if you were to frame it from her perspective, it would feel less like an active, consensual choice and more of a you’ve-forced-my-hand choice. It’s blatant rule-breaking all the same, a stain on her delicate character. Blight on her shiny social status as a golden child, forever marked as the obedient one.

She’s lived her rebellious streak, was punished swiftly and accordingly, and strived to be better in the aftermath. It was one thing to slip out during independent study, and that fun had been trampled upon by a cruel, heeled foot. That was a child’s error. A lesson learned. A valid reason to sever all distractions and improve academically, consequently maturing with sharp, sparkling intelligence and abysmal social skills. 

But Riddle is no longer that starry-eyed, impressionable child, and she does not make the same mistake twice.

Or so she’s always believed, but she’s willing to risk an unforgiving tongue-lashing and life imprisonment at the hands of her mother if it means she can fix things. No matter how she spins it, the truth remains the same: She’s fallen back on an old habit, sneaking out and keeping secrets. She’s an open book to Trey, though, who she’d taken care to message on the train ride into the city, her text mostly cryptic: Should anything happen, this is where I’ll be. It’s wrong to skirt around the truth, especially when it’s your closest friend. She knows this, but then she also knows Trey gives terribly good advice. The type of terribly good advice you often don’t want to hear.

Advice like: “You need to let her go.”

And Riddle can’t—won’t. 

So she steps into the digital footprints left by that brash, brutish party animal you lovingly call your boyfriend, and she follows the string of social media posts like a diligent detective, flicking through each with manicured fingernails. She commits them to memory so that they remain imprinted in her mind before they’ll eventually expire at the twenty-four hour mark.

In the days leading up to tonight, Cater had taken her out for their usual self-care makeover day, which was really just a day dedicated to dressing up and gossiping at the salon. It was a monthly arrangement, and it kept the both of them entertained and sane. The latter of those two was called into question when Riddle, wholly out of character, selected black nail polish for her mani-pedi, which left Cater looking on with brewing curiosity. She gazed at him, pouty lips upturned slyly, and said, “I thought I’d give red a temporary break.”

“Oh, but red is so your color!” he insisted, raising his phone to capture both of them in frame. 

Riddle smiled at the camera. “I know.”

It has always been her color, a staple in her closet. It’s a favorite she can never truly shake, hence why it stains her lips instead. Bright like arterial blood, a blossoming carnation, it stands out starkly on her pale countenance—the only splotch of color on her person. Cater took her shopping when he’d learned she was attempting to fit a new style into her wardrobe of prim, modest clothes. They ran up and down the racks, grinning at each other from across the store and holding up sweaters and skirts, weighing whether either would suit Riddle’s night out. In the end, she settled for the outfit she wears now: a red tube top, a cropped puffer jacket, a pencil skirt that doesn’t pass the fingertip test (not that she cares to follow that rule), tights, and knee-high heeled boots. To finish the look, she’s pulled her hair from its usual plaits, allowing it to cascade down her back like a crimson waterfall. Fingerless lace gloves adorn her hands, stitched with intricate patterns of roses and thorns.

Cater called it the Femme Fatale Friday fit. It’s a Saturday night, but it feels like Friday when she peers at her reflection in a pocket mirror, checking her makeup once more. 

She will not make the same mistake twice. She’s a paragon of perfection—Riddle Rosehearts, for seven’s sake! 

Stuffing the mirror into a matching handbag, she eyes the skyscraper looming before her, sleek with its metal framework and industrial glass. The bright cityscape reflects off of each window, dazzling with luminous specks of light. She considers the contents in her purse, reviews each with a critical eye, and inhales a steadying breath. 

This is necessary.

She’s an adult now, nearly finished with her graduate studies. She lives on her own in a quaint, pet-friendly apartment with her hedgehog, and she works part-time at the café down the street, putting forth her best effort as she weathers the woes of university. Despite all of this independence, she doesn’t feel like an adult. 

Not when she can hear her mother in the back of her head: You look ridiculous. Come home right now before you make a fool of yourself and sully my good name.

Riddle scowls at the concrete, curling her fingers into fists. 

She’s an adult now. She is not her mother’s doll.

Leaving all hostility and self-doubt at the door, she steps through the lobby and beelines for the lift. It carries her to her destination—one of the highest floors. A penthouse suite. 

And not just any penthouse suite. Floyd Leech’s penthouse suite.

Under normal circumstances, she would never willingly set foot in his territory. She survived four years of school with him, which was already a sickening amount, and in that time she watched him glide through his undergraduate with just barely passing grades. That wasn’t enough to stoke the red-hot embers of envy, though. It only made him seem even more like a cockroach, unable to be crushed by the weight of scholarly responsibilities, for he never took anything seriously.

For that reason, Riddle has never envied Floyd. But by the end of their third year, he had something Riddle didn’t. 

He had you. 

How he managed to settle into a relationship when all he did was slack off, party, and break the rules was beyond Riddle. He was a slippery delinquent, hardly deserving of your sweet affections, and yet you looked at him like he was the only one on the planet. Just where was the appeal? His manner of dress is sloppy. The way he carries himself is unpalatable and crude. The way he acts suggests his insipience is incurable. Even when he applies himself, he is still Floyd and that doesn’t clean his slate or shine his reputation. So in Riddle’s discerning eyes, he does not possess a scintilla of romantic appeal.

You don’t seem to agree with these sentiments, for you’ve been with Floyd for four long years. 

Love is blinding, but Riddle has never been in love before and so she doesn’t have adequate data to prove this point. It was forbidden in her home. She’s only allowed to love the men her mother handpicks, plucking each specimen like they’re ripened strawberries from a bush. In the beginning she found all manner of minor details to excuse them from her life, insisting upon a nonexistent list of impossibly high standards. He was too tall. He was too forward with his interest. He wore contrasting colors. He didn’t like tea. These reasons were far too critical and childish, and each man had been sent away in a huff. Her mother would scold her, halving her with a nasty glare: “Are you planning to die alone?”

Yes, Riddle realized by the twentieth admonishment, yet another man cast aside. If dying alone means romantic freedom in life, I’ll do just that.

The elevator spits her out into the hall, which isn’t as silent as she thought it’d be. Bass shakes through the walls, reverberating all the way through her ribs as if it intends to stir up her organs. She catches her reflection in the windows, noting the dark, monstrous scowl, and smooths her face into something courageous. She means business as she clicks down the hall, preparing herself for the whirlwind that undoubtedly waits behind the door. Riddle starts to wonder how Floyd’s neighbors have yet to file a noise complaint and then stops, her thoughts cutting off abruptly. It’s a challenge to make complaints when your father holds parts of the city’s underground in his palms.

He’s got it easy, that spoiled pest. 

Riddle’s gait slows to a halt and she reaches out to knock thrice. The door is thrown open before she can even bring her fist down. Soon she’s staring at a rosy-cheeked stranger, whose eyes trace her figure like he’s trying to paint her on his mental canvas. She’s prepared for the worst, having tucked the spray in her bag, its container disguised to look like lipstick. The strawberry keychain hanging from her purse is a self-defense alarm, ready to be pulled at a moment’s notice. His ogling does not frighten her, nor do his intentions, if he can even harbor any in that intoxicated brain of his. She’s braved scarier horrors. Like living out years of her life with her mother.

“Heyyy, you one of Floyd’s girls? Here for the party?”

Riddle suppresses the disgusted shiver threatening to crawl up her spine, swallowing bile. “Just the party.” 

She is no one’s girl. Definitely not Floyd’s. 

When she’s let inside and the stench of sweat and alcohol assault her nostrils, coupled with the too-loud party music, she considers retreating, her mother’s judgment echoing: You look ridiculous. Her fingers twitch towards her purse. One text and Trey would pick her up. One call and Cater would be on his way. But then she’d be forced to tell them the truth—would have to admit that she’s chasing the one person she can never have. 

She hardens her resolve, pushes through the throng of bodies in an effort to find refreshments, and there you are, her perfect, pretty wallflower in a perfect, pretty silver dress. The dim neon lighting casts you in a luscious pink haze, and she watches you scroll through your phone, your eyelids falling and opening. You’re so beautiful—the sweetest thing she’s ever seen, more saccharine than a truckload of strawberry tarts. Her hand slides away from her purse, and she tamps down a gleeful smile, stepping over to you with newfound confidence.

“(Name)?”

You turn your whole body towards her, your gaze unfocused. She can smell the liquor on you, can see the hickeys not quite covered by a velvet choker. Her gaze narrows. He’s all over you, isn’t he? From top to bottom, you are covered in traces of him. Her nose scrunches. Just what do you see in him?

It should be her teeth on your skin, tearing it open, bruising it, tasting slick copper on her tongue. It should have always been her, but it’s not. Why did you have to settle for less when you’re entitled to so much more?

You peer at her like she’s something in a museum, perplexing and abstract. And then it clicks. You gasp, your mouth falling open in awe, and your words come out horribly slurred. She fails to hide her wince when you throw your arms around her, hanging off of her like a tote on a shoulder.

“Riddle! You…seriously showed up… Can’t believe it’s really you. It feels like it’s been forever.” You pull away, swaying with the motion, and place your hands on her arms. “Your outfit is suuuper cute.”

She’s blushing. She knows she is because her face is burning with heat and suddenly it’s much too stifling in here. “Oh. Ah, um, t-thank you very much… You look very nice, too.”

Really? Is that the best thing I could say? ‘You look very nice’? Honestly, Riddle…

But you smile, and the sight steals her heart all over again. You can have it. By all means take her heart. Take it and love it to pieces. That way it will be fair when she takes yours. An even exchange in accordance with the rules of love. 

Or maybe it’s more so the rules of romantic warfare, carried out to the extreme on a chessboard. Or a croquet court. Something sporty and metaphorical, anyway.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” she asks, refusing to say his name lest she speak him into existence and tarnish her near-perfect evening.

Her question strikes a chord within you, and you heave an exaggerated sigh. You cross your arms over your chest, leaning against the wall for support. “Left me to go hang with the guys. S’not fair!” you whine, sliding further down until you’re sitting in a defeated heap. 

Riddle bends down to your height, her tone as soft and sympathetic as her expression. “Does he always do this?”

Hurt flashes across your face, but you don’t say anything. So he does. Why is she not surprised?

Who in the world leaves their partner at a party, vulnerable and alone? Riddle thinks, anger flaring up in her chest. Someone could take advantage of you. You’re in no state to be standing here by yourself. That fool… He doesn’t know how to treat a lady at all. How have you put up with him for four years? Your patience amazes me.

“It’s not like…” You shut your eyes and rest your head against the wall. “Not like an always-happening thing…”

Riddle isn’t going to sugarcoat it. She wants her words to cut deep, all the way to the heart you’ve allowed Floyd to bind. “Whether or not he does it often, the fact still stands that he left you intoxicated in the corner of this room. That’s careless and unsafe.” She tilts her head, admiring the way you’ve done your makeup, the way your plush lips jut out in a miserable pout. And it just rushes out, words she’s thought but never had the courage to say. At least, not to the sober you. “I wouldn’t do that to you. You deserve so much better.”

Like me, she almost adds, but that’s too direct. And she’s not even sure the admission will land when you’re so out of it.

“Appreciate it…” You scrub your face, groaning. “Ugh. I feel sick…”

“Would you like to get some fresh air?” 

You shake your head, stubborn to a fault. “Can’t. Gotta wait for Floyd.”

Riddle frowns. “I highly doubt he’s coming back anytime soon.” 

“Still.”

“At the very least, let’s get you some water.” She offers her hand, hoping and praying to the heavens above that you’ll take it.

You do. It’s a flawless fit. Her heart flutters, weightless and feathery, when her fingers close around yours. She wonders what moisturizer you use, what sort of lotions kiss your skin. Are they scented, or is that just your perfume? Or have you done away with perfume for tonight and is that a natural fragrance? Or maybe it’s the sweet scent of a fruity wine, printed on your tongue like a delicious tattoo. 

She wants to kiss you. 

“Just how much have you had to drink?” 

“Like a cup or two? I…dunno. Does it matter?”

You stumble when she helps you up, grabbing at her shoulder for support. Riddle almost falls back, but the wall braces her. You place your palm right by her head, and suddenly you’re leaning in, inadvertently pinning her to the wall. Her pupils nearly eclipse her blue-grey irises, and her breath sticks in her throat. Oh, you’re so close. You’re a drunken mess, pushing yourself up against her, your beauty enveloping her like a chrysalis. If this is a dream, she never wants to wake, for the world that awaits her beyond this is cold and colorless. 

Your head lowers to the dip between shoulder and neck, and she gazes heavenward. The ceiling is much nicer at this moment, if only so she can clear her own heady haze of impure thoughts. 

There are people about, she has to remind herself, shaking off the urge to close her fingers around your chin and tilt your head up to meet her mouth. And she has a boyfriend. Just because I can doesn’t mean I should.

But the chance is much too beguiling. You’re right here, quite literally within her reach, and Floyd’s nowhere in sight. It’s too perfect. She can’t quite wrap you in an affectionate embrace—though that is an irresistible urge she must fight off—so she settles to rub circles into your back instead, dutifully reflecting the role of a concerned friend. It’s not the part she wishes to play. Rather, she’d gladly take on the title of boyfriend if it meant you’d feel loved. Every day, at every hour, for the rest of your life. She’d do all the things Floyd ought to do: care for you, appreciate you, protect you, stay by your side through thick and thin. 

Love is a dangerous, thorny thing, but it’s the encroaching jealousy that kills. 

Floyd doesn’t deserve you. If anything, he deserves a mouth full of soap to scrub every profanity he’s ever uttered. Just what does he tell you in bed? That you’re a good girl? That you’re soooo tight? That you can take it? Does he know which ways you like it? Does he know where to touch so you’ll unravel faster? Does he know how to get you properly, thoroughly worked up, so much so that it feels like your skin is aflame with potent want and desire? 

Does he even know your anatomy, or are you simply a body for his avaricious appetite? 

Like roses twining possessively around a trellis, Riddle holds you close in her arms, her hand sweeping across your lower back. Her glacial eyes scan the crowd, warding off anyone who may be curious with her most malevolent death stare. 

“Mm… I need to lie down. My head is…spinning…”

With that, the murderous, overprotective haze sticking to Riddle like a poisonous fog dissipates. A sickly sweet smile widens on ruby-red lips. “Let’s find someplace quiet.”

Together, the two of you stagger-walk out of the room, leaving the party and its inhabitants behind. Crossing through the attached kitchenette, Riddle pilfers a bottled water from the fridge.

Her mind is sharp as a cut diamond. Her skin prickles with anticipation.

Down the hall you go, with Riddle supporting you with what minimal physical strength she has. A door looms before the both of you, cast in a comfortable glow from a neighboring skyscraper, and you struggle to pull your heels off while she pushes the door open. It reveals a messy room, clothing and candy wrappers strewn about sloppily. 

Riddle feels like she’s on top of the world, and she is. Up in the clouds on the forty-third floor of this luxurious penthouse apartment. 

ii. i could be a better boyfriend than him. i could do the shit that he never did. up all night, i won’t quit. 

All throughout her undergraduate, Riddle pined. Hopelessly. Forlornly. Desperately.

Hungrily. 

It was unbecoming to want something to such an obsessive degree. She buried herself in her studies to do away with lustful delusions, each more distracting than the last. But then you would crop up in her life when she least expected it and soon the two of you were studying together. Soon you were visiting her dorm to watch movies during the times in which she allowed herself the break (and she only did so because it was you). Soon you were spending nights in her room, sleeping sprawled on the floor even though she offered her bed time and time again. You’d get ready in the mornings, debating what the breakfast menu would entail. She’d watch your reflection in the floor mirror as you pulled your shirt up and over your head, eyeing the way you slid seamlessly into a lacy black bra. And then she’d change out of her nightgown, and you’d comment on her undergarments. 

“We should go shopping sometime. You gotta get cuter stuff!”

“Why should I? No one’s going to see it,” she insisted with a flustered huff.

“I’ll see it the next time I sleep over,” you told her, smiling innocently as you stepped into a blue handkerchief skirt. “Besides, there are so many cute sets you could wear. You’d look so pretty in something red and frilly. You’re totally missing out.”

Riddle considered it back then. Your eager eyes had almost won her over, but she was firm in her decision. “I’m fine with what I have now.” 

And the conversation ended there. She really wishes you would have pushed it back then because just a little nudge in that direction and she would have given in, entirely at your mercy. 

Selfishly, she just yearned to be stuck in a changing stall with you. 

All throughout her undergraduate, Riddle fostered a special sort of friendship with you. You’d stop by her dorm during finals to insist she take a break, your offer too tempting. She’s always been weak to sweets. You were close enough to exchange intimate details with one another. She listened to all of your dating woes, and conversely you’d sit still and bear witness to her ramblings about fascinating law facts. Sometimes she’d rant about her mother. You always listened. “She sounds like she sucks,” you said once. “How are you even related to her? You’re so nice.”

It was a pleasant three years. If she deluded herself enough, she could have pretended you were her girlfriend and then she’d have something to tell her mother to put an end to the countless attempts at scoring her a husband. I will never marry any of your options, she would think, playing the confrontation out in her head. I have a partner now and we’re very happy together. Sometimes Riddle imagined her mother tossing darts at a board with photographs of men attached to it, disregarding compatibility altogether in favor of upholding traditional rules. But then Riddle realized she’d have to die before she could ever admit her own romantic freedoms to her mother, and so that conversation only ever came about in daydreams. 

I’d rather die alone than live life shackled in a loveless marriage. She wonders if her father thought the same.

Those three years had been a wonderful reality, filled with sugared, candy-coated love. A one-sided love, sure. But Riddle could settle for platonic affections, for that was just as sweet.

And then he arrived at the doorstep to Riddle’s fantasy cottage, kicking the walls down and sweeping you off your feet.

Floyd Leech has always been a nuisance. You were there to shoo him away every time he came knocking, all broad grins and vexatious jeers. He listened to you most days, a mutt without proper leashing, oddly loyal to you. As if you were his keeper of sorts. Riddle was amazed, befuddled, and worried all at once. Unlike her, you could keep your cool, could still smile so kindly even when Floyd was being an utter pain in the ass with his foolish nicknames. When he tried to pluck Riddle’s hairpin from out of her braids—a handmade gift you had given her for her birthday—she slapped him hard across the face and hissed, “Don’t ever put your filthy paws on me again.”

And maybe it was because you were there that she was able to recover shortly after the outburst. (Although she still meant that slap with every fiber of her being.) Maybe you were her collar. Maybe you were her keeper. Maybe she was meant to meet you so that you could color her world, lead her along into the friendship she’d been robbed of as a child. 

Looking back, Riddle realizes that was the catalyst. Because when Floyd cradled his bright-red cheek, giggling like a maniac, you asked him, “Don’t you have anything better to do? Can’t you bother someone else?”

And then you were made the prime target. 

What’s worse is that you reveled in it, adored every ounce of attention Floyd gave you like it was something holy, later admitting to Riddle during a movie marathon that you “wondered if Floyd was seeing anyone.” She wanted to retch. You, a seraph incarnate, with a devil like Floyd? Impossible. But your tone was so whimsical; you were dreaming of it. You liked him. 

She couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it.

By the end of her third year, just as finals gave way to summer, you threw your arms around Floyd’s neck while he pressed you up against the trunk of a flowering tree. Pink petals fluttered to the ground, and with the falling blossoms came Riddle’s hope, crashing and burning in a heartbroken heap. 

She won’t make the same mistake twice, which is precisely why, when you flop onto Floyd’s unmade bed, she turns the lock to keep all outside influences away. The party is but a mere muffle now, thrumming through the floorboards with reckless abandon.

Her nose wrinkles at the pile of dirty laundry. Slob, she thinks, brimming with hate. What does she see in you? You’re a mess, you’re definitely a criminal, you can’t keep a stable job, you throw obnoxious parties every other week, you leave your own girlfriend unattended… What part of that is appealing? She gazes at you next. You’re too good for him, (Name). You can do so much better. Raise your standards. Find someone respectable and attentive. Someone who’ll stay with you forever. Someone who won’t let you get stupidly drunk and then run off to Queen-knows-where.

“Someone like me,” she mutters.

You have to be coerced into drinking, and you’re so sleepy that the water dribbles down your chin. Riddle tuts at you, swiping the liquid away with her sleeve. 

“You’re a mess,” she says, affectionate despite the barb. 

You’re my mess.

She slides your heels off, casting them elsewhere. You look like a starfish when you lay sprawled, or maybe you’re more like a snow angel. Only rather than snow, you imprint yourself amongst wrinkled sheets. Riddle knows it’s wrong, but you’re right here. She’s waited so many years for a moment like this one.

It’s not fair. 

She unzips her boots, kicks them off, and stands at the edge of the bed, locked in a fierce debate. You should have thrown your arms around her that day. You should have kissed her, should have spent the last four years with her, should have stayed in her life like the permanent fixture you were destined to be. She’s never wanted anything more than this. Not even a surplus of strawberry tarts. Not even the dreams she’s working tirelessly towards achieving. She’s only ever wanted you. 

But Floyd took you away, and her world has never been the same since. 

The mattress dips under her weight; she’s made up her mind. 

“Do you remember the promise we made?” she whispers, running her hands up your legs. You lift your head to look at her, eyes glassy with inebriated exhaustion. “The one in which we’d live together after graduation? You said you’d want to live somewhere pet-friendly so we could get hedgehogs and name them Tweedledee and Tweedledum.”

You hum, your lashes fluttering. 

“We could still do that. Just you and me. Without your boyfriend.”

“What?”

Her fingers catch on the waistband of your panties. “Hm?” 

“Mm, no, nothing… You should get going. It’s late…” “Someone has to look after you.”

“Floyd can.”

She presses her thumbs into your hips and the tiniest gasp leaves your parted lips. “But Floyd’s not.”

“He will.”

“He won’t,” she snaps. Something flickers in your eyes, a flash of unrest. Riddle chews her lower lip. “He’s… (Name), what do you see in him? Honestly, truly, what is it? Please educate me. Please… What does he have that I don’t? What makes you stay?”

“Cuz he’s my boyfriend,” you mutter slowly, perplexed, “and I love him.”

“Do you?” 

“Riddle, why are you so…” The words fizzle out on your tongue when her touch strays too close to home. “Wait… We can’t… Not in here.”

“Why not? It’s just one more mess. He won’t even notice.”

“That’s not it… Riddle, wait. I… I don’t like you in that—”

She collapses, anchoring herself to you, her manicured nails digging deep into your arms. And then her mouth is on yours, clumsy and uncoordinated. She doesn’t want to hear it—can’t bear to hear it. She knows the truth. It’s haunted her from the day she met you, a shadow looming like a guillotine’s blade. You were fated to be forever out of reach. Just like those strawberry tarts in the bakery window. The kiss is filthy, all desire and zero skill. Her tongue flashes into your mouth. It’s nothing like the way they describe it in fiction or portray it in films. It’s obscene. Sinful. Libidinous. Her lipstick smears; she tastes the wine in your throat, licks your teeth and nibbles your lip, delicate and gruesome all at once. She tries her best, unyielding. 

The technique doesn’t matter. Not now, anyway. It’s just blind, unrequited passion. She’ll learn it eventually and when she does she’ll kiss you drunk. It’s just another thing she’ll master. And she will because that’s just who she is. Give her a textbook and she’ll have it memorized. Give her a kiss and she’ll return to practice it to perfection. 

She pulls away, panting, her lipstick in disarray. It’s all over you, smudging on the corners of your mouth. Running a hand through her hair, her figure outlined in the tantalizing glow from the city lights, she licks her lips. 

“Riddle…” 

Spoken soft like prayer, it’s a whisper she’ll treasure. Over and over, without end, repeat it like a mantra. 

“Riddle, please…”

“He doesn’t know anything about your preferences, does he?” Your dress is slid up next. She traces a heart into your bare stomach, capturing your navel in invisible lines. You shudder under her touch, grabbing at her wrist with a limp hand. She brings it up to her lips and presses a chaste kiss to the top of it. “I know you much better than he does. I always have.”

To prove it, she presses two fingers to your clothed pussy. You whine, reedy and high-pitched. “But…”

“I read it takes fourteen minutes for women to reach their end during partnered sex.” She levels you with a half-lidded stare, smirking. What she lacks in skill, she makes up for in raw confidence. “I’ll only need less than that, so you won’t have to feign anything for my sake. I know you well enough, my rose.”

A wide range of emotions waltzes across your countenance. Your arm falls over your face next. It’s defeat or hesitant acceptance, but to Riddle it’s love. 

“Ten minutes,” you whisper, conceding. “And then…you need to leave.”

She makes you cum in just five, covers you in lipstick prints, each kiss a sly cover-up. Floyd may be all over you, bites and bruises blooming new and old, but he’s not inside you, wringing you out like a sodden towel. You sob like you’re in heat when she sinks her fingers into your slick warmth, scissoring so slowly, until you’re begging her to make you cum again. Your fluids soak through the sheets. The scent of sex and sweat hangs heavy in the air. She’s alive, wildly untamed, a knight who’s just rescued the princess and slayed a bloodthirsty dragon. 

Her head is between your thighs next, her hands braced on either leg to keep them apart. You watch her with glazed eyes, soon throwing your head back when she slides your hood up to reveal your pretty, pert clit. Experimentally, she licks a teasing stripe up your slit. You shiver and dig your fingers into her scalp, imprisoning her there. It’s where she’s always wanted to be. 

“Tell me,” she murmurs, the words fanning across your pussy, “if he’s so good, why haven’t you proven it? Is this the most you’ve ever cum in a night? Does he please you or do you please him? If he’s everything you’ve ever wanted, why are you still so unsatisfied?” 

“Because… B-Because!”

Your protests are fragmented and spotted with gasps. That’s arguably more telling than a detailed response. 

Riddle smiles like a Cheshire, her eyes narrowed victoriously. Spidery digits creep along your thighs. Her thumbs dip into your pussy, spreading it wide for her viewing pleasure. “Don’t think of him. Tonight, it’s just you and me. I’ll give you what you’re owed. That and so much more.”

Like a fragile statue, you topple. Right into her, bucking against her mouth like the world is ending, and she’s there to steady you.

She always is.

iii. i’m gonna steal you from him. i could be such a gentleman. plus, you know my clothes would fit.

“Sooo… Gimme the goss. How was your night out?”

Riddle looks up from an assortment of nail polish colors, each one more red than the last, and says, “It was more enjoyable than I thought.”

“Yeah?” Cater prompts, brows raised. “Don’t be so vague! I wanna know all the juicy details. It’s rare for you to stay out so late. And to go to a party, of all things, in the city? Hello?! New Riddle, who’s this?” 

“I was only meeting an old friend.”

“That’s what they all say.”

The technician asks her to pick a color. “This one,” she says, pointing. “The one named Sanguine Sunrise.” 

“You’re totes keeping me in the dark!” Cater whines, dramatic. “At least give Cay-Cay some hints! Something! Anything! Spare change, please?”

Riddle smiles smugly. Pride drips from every syllable when she speaks next. “My friend will be spending this Valentine’s Day alone.”

“Bummer.”

“Not quite. She’ll have me and half-priced chocolates. A rather charming combination, no?”

Cater laughs. “GL. I’m rooting for you.”

You don’t need to, she thinks, tracing the love bite stamped into her skin, hidden under the soft fabric of her blouse. Because I’m already winning.

Her phone buzzes with a text: about last night… if i did anything weird, i’m so sorry. i was way too drunk. 

Riddle turns it over, dips her feet in the heated water, and settles into the massage chair, pleased as a peach. “It was one bad decision. Four years of bad decisions, but it’s forgiven. We all make silly mistakes when we’re lovestruck. Hopefully her silly mistake disappears for good and we never have to speak of him again.”

“You’re so scary, Riddle. Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

Another message arrives: i think we might’ve kissed last night. i’m really super sorry.

There’s a brief delay.

ok this is gonna sound weird coming from me but maybe we can do it again??? floyd’s kisses are sorta… :/ 

Her phone vibrates for the final time that afternoon.

actually i’m just gonna stop talking omg i’m crazy. i have a bf and everything. sorry riddle please ignore all of this kk tysm ttyl <3

wait one more text before i forget,, if you wanna meet up for tea i wouldn’t mind. we should definitely catch up when i’m not hungover. kk bye fr this time <3

A start is a start. You can’t grow a rose tree without first planting a seed.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere riddle rosehearts x reader #yandere riddle rosehearts #yandere riddle #yandere riddle x reader #n/sfw #tw: dubcon

[spacebarbarianweird]

The Dragon Made of Threads

Synopsis: Astarion is making a gift for you.

Tags: fluff

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion’s mind doesn’t let him rest. 

The reverie is supposed to be a blessing, the only way for the True People to remember their long lives. But his long life was nothing but misery until  very recently and he keeps being dragged into the darkness.

Oh, Astarion was so naive to believe it could have been over by killing his master and having the “rebirth” experience on the grave. 

His past haunts him.

“You are tired,” you touch his forehead as if trying to sense fever. “You need some rest.”

“My sweet, elves can survive without trance for a week. And I am undead. I am fine.”

“You don't look fine. You have dark circles and your eyelids are puffy again. You need to rest.”

“No, I don’t!” He tries to sound confident but instead his voice resembles a rebellious teenager.

You are right, of course. The elves can survive without reverie for a week, the same way non-elves can make it through one or two sleepless nights. Then, the body and mind collapse. 

But entering the reverie… Reliving tortures and humiliation… Feeling the same sense of misery and horror and hopelessness… No, he can’t do that. Not now. Not ever.

You are ready to sleep - it’s the first time in a month that you sleep in the room, not in the tent - the thick curtains protect Astarion from the merciless sun. 

“Please,” you yawn. “Meditate.”

“I will.”

“Don’t lie to me, please, I know when you are dishonest.”

Astarion grins. “Oh, my sweet, I am no liar. I am going to reverie once you fall asleep. I just like watching you when the dreams take over you.”

“Astarion, when you say the truth your eyes are wide open. When you smirk, you lie. Listen, maybe I can do something? Something to make you… think about something pleasant? It’s been a year! There are a lot of good memories to relive. Let’s just find a way to point your mind in the right direction!”

A year of good memories. Well, a little bit more. Four months of having a tadpole in his brain, experiencing freedom and sunlight, falling in love, learning how to feel again, and how to be alive. All these memories are precious, even the ones he is embarrassed about. For example, using you in his own favor. It doesn’t matter you’ve forgiven him - it still hurts.

Astarion sighs and lies beside you. Your arms immediately wrap around him. The familiar warmth is so tender that Astarion lets himself slip away into the reverie.

He is indeed tired.

He needs to rest.

But instead of grasping a good memory, a pleasant or at least bearable, his mind collapses into the abyss.

Chained to the wall. Bleeding. Hurting. He can’t scream anymore. It’s an old memory from when he was still hoping. He begs for mercy but no one listens. Hunger. Pain. Blood. Again, again. 

The master is whistling, carving the symbols on Astarion’s back with a silver dagger. The cursed metal feels like melted lava.

Astarion doesn’t need to sleep, neither does the vampire lord. 

This is your life, forever. You are doomed. No one will save you.

No! No! It’s not true! It will end! It will take two centuries, two long and miserable centuries, but it will come to an end! 

Astarion screams in the past until his throat burns.

“Astarion! Astarion!”

He feels the warm hands shaking his shoulders. He returns to reality like a drowned man from the dark waters, numb and restless.

You don’t say anything and he collapses into your arms, crying like a lost child.

“I can’t… I can’t… I need to rest… But I can’t…”

His back… His back is still bleeding, he can feel it, but your fingers caress the scars. It’s all over. It’s been more than a year. He will never return to those dungeons. No one will ever mutilate him again.

You let him go and pick up the travel sack in the corner. 

“I bought something at the potion merchant. I think it might help.”

“Please, I - I can… handle…”

You take out a bottle with a golden liquid. 

Angelic sleep potion.

The only way to make an elf experience regular sleep.

“No.”

“Astarion, what choice do you have? One more day like this and you won’t be able to walk on your own. You need it.”

“No! I am not drinking this! My mind keeps bringing me real nightmares and I have heard  all about the creepy dreams and nightmares the sleeping mind can weave!”

“But it won't be reality! Besides, when a non-elf is exhausted like you, they don’t see dreams.”

“But I won’t be able to escape it. With reverie at least I know it’s a memory!”

You sit beside Astarion and hug him. “Please. If you don’t want to do this for yourself, do this for me. I can’t see you suffering like this.”

Astarion sighs. “You are manipulative, you know?”

“Learned from a professional”.

Astarion adjusts himself back on the  bed and opens the bottle. The potion smells intoxicating. “But I do this only for you.”

“And I am grateful for your sacrifice.”

Astarion drains the bottle and before he manages to acknowledge anything, sleep takes him.

He sees visions and images. Places and people. Some are familiar, and some are not. His mind weaves the dreams out of emotions, memories, and experiences. 

Astarion dreams of a dragon.

It’s an ancient species of dragons, otherworldly. A majestic creature capable of carrying a dragon rider on its back.

Astarion rides this dragon above the Trackless Sea. There is nothing but the water and open blue skies.

And the sun.

It feels like cat fur on his skin, gentle and warm. 

Astarion wakes up still dizzy with the unrealness of what he saw. 

And he feels amazing.

His body is rested, and his mind is clear. The dream was so vivid that Astarion would believe he was once a dragon rider if he didn’t know about the weird fantasies of non-elven dreams.

He looks at you, sound asleep in the bed. His. You are his. And he is yours. What a sheer amount of luck made you meet each other? And how lucky he is you chose him.

It is still afternoon, hours before the sunset and he knows too well you won't wake up till evening.

Astarion needs to occupy himself with something. He gets up, stretches his arms, and then sees your traveling cape on the floor. 

“Such a messy little thing”, he chuckles. Astarion picks up the cape and notices a hole in the fabric.

Astarion takes his sewing kit from the traveling sack. He loves repairing things for you - complaining all the way, of course - but he never lets you sew yourself.

And then the idea comes to his mind.

Instead of black threads, he picks the red ones. It takes him a few attempts to understand how to do that but then the stitches come naturally from his fingers.

A dragon soaring in the skies. A divine creature from other planes. A beast that came to him in his dreams.

Astarion carefully embroiders the body of the dragon, then the wings and a stream of fire from its mouth.

He still has a lot of threads left and he starts embroidering the other dragon on the opposite side of the cape. 

Then he notices something has changed.

The curtain is wide open and the moonlight streams inside the room. You sit beside him, smiling at his work.

“Oh, sorry, my sweet. I’ve been carried away…”

“It’s all right. I like watching you sew. But it’s the first time I see you making something like this.”

“Do you like it?”

“Of course!” you touch the embroidered dragons. “So real! I didn’t know you could do such things!”

“I- I’ve seen them. In a dream.”

The tender fingers touch his curls. “You’ve rested, haven’t you?”

“Yes. I have,” Astarion hands you the cape. “If you want, I can add more. I just need more threads”.

You smile and kiss him. “Of course, I do. Thank you.”

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe 

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion romance #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion angst #astarion drabble #astarion short fic #spacebarbarian fics #astarion fluff #astarion comfort #baldur's gate post game #Valentine Day Fic Exchange

[daemon-in-my-head]

One thing that's heavily slept upon in regards to durgetash is Durges relationship with money.

Bhaal likes money. The novices are taught in ways that scare or awe everyone who watches and relay the message that any offered gold may make the Lord of Murder look away for today. And Durge too follows these teachings, which makes it even more scandalous that they gave away money at least once.

Like Bhaals whole bit is respect or fear and money. Bhaal is the mafia-like crime lord out of the dead three (even if Bane wants to be that so badly).

So I propose the following; a Durge who can literally be lured with a trail of gold coins. A Durge that makes Gortash buy them shit, cuz he got money. A Durge that actually decks out Gortash in his own golden gauntlets cuz yk Black is tacky, be stylish for once Banite. Gold is all the rage (and Durge just really likes the look of it). And whenever Durge feels rebellious they plunder the temples treasury and donate to the poor. Not cuz they're a good person but out of sheer spite for daddy dearest. They're one of the main providers for the temple, as any good child of Bhaal should be. So they'll use their bf to buy them fun stuff instead. And Gortash is 100% up for it cuz he doesn't like indulging himself, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like the Bhaalspawn indulging. Also the whole "look I bought this for them cuz I fuck them ain't that pretty?" Bit.

#bg3 #bg3 spoilers #enver gortash #durgetash #bg3 gortash #bg3 durge #lord gortash #gortash x durge #durge #dark urge

[arliedraws]

We don’t really know if Sirius ever fit in with his family, but I like to think that until he was Sorted into Gryffindor, he was a little golden boy in his family. As the Black family seems to buy into the hallmarks of hypermasculinity, I wonder if Sirius’s penchant for rebelliousness as a child was met with a “Well, boys will be boys” sort of response, like an exasperated pride that Sirius was a strong heir to the House of Black. Maybe by the time Sirius reached Hogwarts he was beginning to question his family’s beliefs, but I think his parents’ sudden turn on him would have been devastating (though he would never admit so). As he moves into his teenaged years, he fights his family more and more until their arguments are screaming matches and Mrs. Black is hurling slurs at him. He grows closer to James and his friends, rejecting his family’s values because he needs to detach from those who have betrayed him.

I just find it to be devastating to think that he loved his parents only for them to reject him. He runs away at sixteen, but the trouble with these sorts of relationships is that you wish to cut off ties forever, but part of you still might wish for your mother or father’s love.

#hp meta #sirius black

[alhaithamhabibi]

Um, hellooo! I saw you up requests and I wanted to give a try but feel free to reject this. May I ask for a reader who isekai'd in the way to protect the female lead's older brother long before roxana was born. The reader mother is a nanny(do they allow that?? idk) of lante when he was younger so reader and him sorta grew up together. And then when he became the head, he had the reader became his kids nanny/caretaker and as one of his righthand. Pls and ty!

ᴍᴇᴇɴᴀ ɴᴏᴛᴇs : hiii darling! no clue what lante's background was other than he overruled his father so this is my speculation of it. i may or may have not gotten carried away by the reader's backstory that i may or may have not create another post for it 👀 also this somehow became an alternate universe somewhere around the end oops -

part two is here

𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐊𝐀𝐈'𝐃!𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

❥ so you isekai'd in the way to protect the female lead's older brother's world long before the story started? congratulations! and you even became the daughter of the female lead's father nanny? good luck trying to survive.

❥ somehow, you managed to survive up to your late twenties as LANTE AGRICHE trusted servant and closest confidante. which was shocking, to say the least. but you know deep down, he held some sort of genuine affection for your mother since his mother passed away.

❥ and you two had grown up together despite being in different worlds from each other. even after your mother's death, he kept you around as he killed his father and took the position of the head of agriche. even as he changed for the worse, you remained by his side.

❥ whether it was out of obligation or sincerity, you no longer knew why you stayed beside him. but you know why he wanted you. after all, your mother made her mark on him and so did you. people found it odd that he didn't try to marry you just to keep you by his side since it was more effective. but you both knew better than that.

❥ it was the consequences of your actions, you thought to yourself, as he burned your marriage requests in the fireplace. anything that allowed relationships beyond his family, his household, and especially himself was an absolute no. but that's fine. who needs friendship and love anyway?

❥ besides, as he began to collect his wives and mistresses ( much to your disdain ), you knew the story was gonna start soon. and despite knowing the end for this household, you still wanted to change a few things. and what better way to start as lante made you the official nanny of his children.

❥ FONTAINE was an eight-year-old child when you first met him. to make his father proud. at first, he wasn't quite fond of you as you took most of his father's time but eventually, he liked the maternal affection you gave to him. he felt entitled to have your time. in return, you made sure he kept at least some of his morals growing up. you unfortunately weren't able to stop the rebelliousness growing in him and could only hope he would make wise decisions. ( yes, you made sure to tell him the deficits of incestuous relationships and frightened him enough that he would see his female siblings as competition which is progress at least. )

❥ GRIZELDA was only a toddler when she first approached you about a book you were reading during your time off. you knew she was the only agriche to have magic so the pressure on her was high. when all was against her, you were right by her side to hold her steady. that and you two had bonded over books together. as she was young, it was you who tucked her into bed and told her stories and tales you knew from your past life and current. even as she grew older, she loved hearing interesting stories that came from you. you always made time for her even when you were busy with taking care of lante's work and the children. always reminding you to take care of yourself as well.

❥ ASHIL was only a year old when you met him. sierra was a wonderful and sane woman so you often visited her. ashil reminded you of a golden retriever and you became fond of him instantly. he always asked for your help and was ready to help you if you had any problems. the day you knew ashil failed the exam, you beg to lante to give spare ashil so you may take him as your own. because of your shared past, he reluctantly did so. it was the only way for him to live safely even if it meant taking him from his mother and sister. though the mother-sister duo thanked you profusely. especially as ashil pledged to protect you along with those he considered as his family. even as he grew stronger and older, he kept true to himself.

❥ DION was also a baby when you first carried him in your arms after maria's birth. while she complained about the baby's looks and disappointment, you saw another baby to love and cherish. lante and maria's parenting only got worse so you took matters in your hands and had him stay with you and ashil. he was quite a curious and mischievous boy, always finding trouble to drag his older brother with him. luckily, ashil had infinite patience as an elder sibling and always pulled back dion when necessary. it was also rather cute to see dion and roxana fight over who gets more ashil and your time. the older dion grew, he began to resemble more of his father which worried you. but when he smiled that playful smile at you and his close siblings, the anxiety vanished as you returned the smile.

❥ ROXANA was unsure about you when she first saw you. she hadn't remembered you being mentioned in the novel along with the evident changes. you were an unpredictable variable so she was cautious around you. it took some time but after saving ashil, she viewed you as an angel descended from the heavens to protect them. and she let you into her small circle and her heart. eventually, you told her of your past life which shocked her. so that explains everything! but she felt the comfort of another person in her situation just as she did and swore to protect you as well. despite your warnings, she still went ahead with the butterfly project knowing it could shorten her life. so you made sure to take care of her despite her pouts to relieve your, ashil, and sierra's worries. and cassis came along as the story unfold, he could see how important you were to the children of agriche. you liked to tease roxana and him often after he escaped.

❥ JEREMY was clingy and touch-starved when he first met you as a young child. he had just returned from his brutal class with a harsh wound, unable to hold back his whimpers. you found him there and gathered him into your arms to your room so that you could heal his wounds. his mother didn't even see and he watched her commit suicide with his own eyes as she refused to interact with him. since then, he has been attached to you by the hip. you were his mother. that was what he called you, openly especially since the others addressed you as either aunty or nanny. you were one of the few people who could stop jeremy from his violent tendencies with a word or a touch. he didn't want to scare his mother after all.

❥ CHARLOTTE was easily attached to you as she had a rocky relationship with her mother. you were more of her mother than her mother and she loved it when you praised her. it was a competition again between her and jeremy which gave you enough headaches as you recalled the rivalry between dion and roxana before. history had a way of repeating itself. still, like jeremy, you had a way of calming her down. with her hothead and brash personality, you helped her try to control it so she wouldn't get into any more trouble with lante and her mother. she loves it especially when you call her by her nickname 'lotte' since it was her first nickname she received.

❥ though all the agriche kids were raised as they were, you became their moral support and someone they genuinely care for. it was you who put yourself between lante and themselves when they were punished. and if you couldn't stop it, you always attended to their wounds and stayed with them for the night, as they rest on the couch. how could they not love you?

❥ even lante couldn't do anything as he found it a good reason to keep you in the agriche mansion. which was his biggest mistake. even as his top children began to plot against their father, you also went along with it as their spy. after all, lante was no longer the boy you grew up with and you had to open up your eyes. and if he had to be disposed off so that you could protect the children, so be it.

❥ after the night the agriche household fell, it was you placed the final blow on lante. and you had to witness fontaine demise from cassis's sword, though some small part of you mourned for that eight year old boy you knew long ago. and as roxana's health declined, you sent her to cassis in hopes that there was a possibility she could be healed.

❥ you were named as the matriarch of the black agriche, a title placed by the children you cared for. and quickly enough due to your past experience as lante trusted associate, you began to help raise the agriche from the ground and to a hopeful and brighter future. so you decided to burn agriche mansion to the ground and make it a new and better mansion.

❥ for a future where your children could make better memories in the new home you created for them. even as some of them stayed by your side or went on traveling around, you always made sure that they would have a home to come back to. but to them, you were their home. you accepted all of them as they are and cherished you for it. they would burn the world down if you asked them to.

#— meena writes #manhwa x reader #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #how to protect the heroine’s older brother #roxana #roxana agriche #jeremy agriche #dion agriche #griselda agriche #fontaine agriche #charlotte agriche #ashil agriche #lante agriche

[sarahreesbrennan]

Hello! If IOL were to get adapted into a TV show (or film I suppose), what are some things you'd be excited for, or things you'd want revealed that we don't get from Elliot's POV?

(also fun fact: my name is Elliot too! It may or may not have been very helpful in getting me to read the book three years ago)

Hi Elliot! A fine name. :)

The silver screen by its nature allows us into more points of view - it’s why my TV tie-ins always had more and briefer PoVs than I usually write, to give the same effect as a moving camera. And In Other Lands is a very limited third by design, since we really have to feel Elliot’s feelings to be in it with him. So immediately a visual, more-on-the-surface medium would open the story up to more reveals - there’s a lot to be done with Serene and Luke, and (for my money) with Captain Woodsinger, Golden, Adara and Myra.

The question also arises what the director’s or showrunner’s vision is, because the showrunner would not be me. There are so many different ways to tell a tale.

If they’re going gritty child soldiers, there’s more to be done with the wars between the different peoples, with dryads and dwarves, and with Delia Winterchild and her lost twin. If they’re going, say, romcom like a fantasy Heartstopper, we’re probably putting Wings In the Morning and In Other Lands in a blender and starting with the characters 15 and up. If they’re doing children’s adventure a la (gayer, weirder) Percy Jackson, we might meet the key three waking up in their respective settings on the day they head off to the Border camp - Serene exiting in a rebellious huff after blazing row with her mother, Luke worried under the weight of loving expectation, Elliot totally clueless and friendless in another world - are these children going to meet? What will hap— Holy SHIT the redhead is being rude! But we’d get it, because we saw where he came from.

The mood of a story is often dictated by what information you parcel out when.

And TV throws curveballs. (Movies less often.) What if the Elliot and Adara actors had lightning-in-a-bottle chemistry? What if Luke and Dale did? I hardly dare imagine. But then again, if it was a She-Ra-style animated series, that would be far less likely. So it’s hard to say what I’d be excited for, as I wouldn’t know what to expect!

I’d be really excited if they did any kind of series, because that’s such a show of faith in my work. And it would mean more job security, and new covers, and more chances for me to get more readers and perhaps most important of all to write more in the In Other Lands world… which (more on this later) I would love to do.

A show is always a wild shot - I’d always try to think of the books as my first concern, as they might do something totally bonkers with an adaptation. (Me, if Luke and Serene fell in romantic love while Elliot died a cowardly weasel’s death: What Show? I Cannot Perceive the Moving Pictures, I Just Do Not Know.) Buuuut, if it ever did happen, I would love to see more of the interdynamics at the Border camp, stuff that flew totally over Elliot’s head. I’d love to have Golden introduced earlier. I’d love to have the harpies in sooner, but as a sinister presence until the big reveal. And of course, channeling my inner Elliot, I’d love to see the mermaids. Throw the whole budget at mermaids!

Thanks for asking, and dreaming with me. 💜

#in other lands #sarah rees brennan #books books books #book adaptation #pjo tv adaptation #heartstopper #she ra

[amazing-jason-grace]

the case of jason grace’s powers

i was recently reminded of the fact that thalia grace doesn’t actually have to ask for her powers. thalia is freely using her lighting in battle, nobody controlling her power but her. which makes it all the more tragic that jason has to ask.

jason is seen praying to jupiter for strength and for lightning. there was at least one time i can remember where he asked and jupiter sent him nothing. poor boy was left to himself.

percy doesn’t ask poseidon, per “the sea does not like to be restrained”. nico and hazel don’t ask hades. literally nobody else asks. occasionally they’ll pray for extra help, but no other character has to literally ask their parent for one of their main abilities.

you could argue that this restraint is only placed on jason because jupiter is only worried about him, but that wouldn’t entirely make sense because thalia’s nature is much more rebellious than jason’s. she would naturally seem like more of a threat if you were to compare the two. there is definitely a physical restraint put on him from jupiter himself, but this is why i honestly believe that a lot of it is mental.

jason was brought up to be this perfect leader for the legion. the golden child on this beautiful pedestal for everyone to admire. he was always told what to do, what he could and could not. he could not act out. he could not rebel. he had to be the face of the legion and the hero they wanted. after 12 years of conditioning, this is the reality he had lived in for basically his whole life. throughout all of the heroes of olympus books, jason is trying to break free of this leader mentality and learn the importance of working with others on his level. if this is all he ever knew, whos to say that jason’s lightning wasn’t actually entirely controlled by jupiter? thalia’s sure isn’t.

but that’s not to say that thalia doesn’t raise an interesting point in this discussion. it was never said to be controlled by jupiter, but we know that thalia can’t fly like her brother. thalia can’t fly because she’s too scared to. she’s too scared to try. she’s scared of heights. jason is scared of jupiter. if he’s believed it to be a system this whole time, just like pretty much all the other aspects of life in the legion, he may think that he just straight up cannot do something because his father said no. thalia can use her lightning whenever, so why is it only jason that jupiter is supposedly concerned about?

what if it was the legion that was truly responsible for his limits this whole time?

#this is something i think about a lot #jason grace i mourn your true potential #jason grace i love you forever #jason grace defender #jason grace #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #percyjackson

[fountainpenguin]

Favorite underrated FOP episodes? (Definition of underrated is up to you, can just be a random small episode you like)

I think "The Odd Squad" will forever be top of the "underrated faves" list for me. The pacing and style are both so good, it has a lot of cute worldbuilding in it, the character interactions are fantastic (including a wholesome moment with Timmy and his regular parents), and it has Juandissimo saying "Nice wheels, Timmy! :D" I am a massive sucker for Jorgen freaking out over Timmy driving in Fairy World and wrecking the place but Juandissimo was more or less on the sidelines giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up because he is too silly and oblivious to foresee a problem skldfj. The dialogue is lots of fun and Timmy is happy the entire time. It's a sweet one.

I'd say that "Shelf Life" and "Which Witch Is Which?" are episodes I would classify as "episodes I enjoy that are less commonly remembered." The former has a lot of wit and clever dialogue and a silly ending, and the latter gave me a lot of worldbuilding to play with by canonizing witches in Crocker's family tree.

I love "Crocker of Gold" and "Chicken Poofs" for a lot of the same reasons- a pinch of worldbuilding and a lot of goofy character interactions. I'm sure that description applies to a lot of episodes, but there's a special place in my heart for the flower quest, Bring Your Chicken Hawk to Work day, and for the "Everything is so green here" scene, which is one of my favorite jokes in the world.

I'll always hold a soft spot for "Mr. Right" as well for being one of the first episodes I ever saw when I was out at a pizza place one time. I also really enjoy the concept of "The Big Scoop" and how it portrays Timmy in a creepy way from the perspective of his friends as they worry about what's going on in his life. Also I feel like "Please Don't Feed the Turners" says a ton about Timmy's parents... the LOOK they give each other when they're on the same page is the best.

All the Learnatorium and Pixie episodes, I'm a big fan of. "Hassle in the Castle" speaks to my soul and I think "Big Wanda" is hilarious. "Yoo Doo" will always be a favorite, and I love the silliness of "Presto Change-O," "The Gland Plan," "The Masked Magician," "The Good Old Days," "For Emergencies Only," "Talkin' Trash," "Parent Hoods," and "Formula For Disaster." Also "Fly Boy" because Timmy yelling "This is all your fault!" at Poof while Poof slightly cringes away just cracks me up.

I love the wackiness of "Dad Overboard" and "Take and Fake." They're hard to top; they're so very good. Poof playing in the sand and he finds a freaking missile, Crocker takes his class on a field trip to watch Timmy's supposed death, Dad accidentally kidnapped an elf from the North Pole who becomes a good friend, there's a line of dialogue that goes "I'll get Stanley and his headless wife! :D" and these are all the same episode. "Take and Fake" is just... goofy and nice, it's very difficult to watch without laughing so it's just lovely.

I'll also throw in "Wishing Well" because it's one of my all-time faves. The vibe it gives is kind of chilling while also being delightful the whole time because you know it's about learning life skills and it's such a positive viewing experience, plus it's one of very few episodes where Timmy meets other godkids and has a positive relationship with them.

"Fairy Friends and Neighbors" is a huge fave. Idk if that counts as underrated (imo Seasons 4 and 5 are the best in the series; they're almost all winners)

"Cosmo Rules" and "Jerk of All Trades" both feel nice because they're highly specific to the FOP world (i.e. they're about Jorgen's duty of overseeing Da Rules) and they're really fun to watch together. Facing the Fairy Council are two Fairies: one of them is Cosmo the estranged von Strangle who should care for Da Rules because it's his blood right, and the other is Juandissimo who straight-up broke Da Rules by fleeing Fairy World and returning stolen memories to his godkid, and the Fairy Council really said "Screw the bloodline, the rulebreaker gets to be in charge now." Obsessed with how after Jorgen announces he's been replaced, we pan over to Juandissimo who just sits there quietly in a chair with wide eyes like he doesn't know how he got there or what he's doing.

Let's see... "School of Crock," "Crockin' the House," "Viral Videots," "Dust Busters," "Fairly Old Parent," "Anchors Away," "Cosmonopoly," "Dog Gone," "Lame Ducks"... those are also episodes I really enjoy. Season 9 has a lot of underrated faves for me. I don't care for Sparky, but Season 9 is so good... Some of the best lines in the series are in there.

For underrated Season 10 faves, I'll throw in "Clark Laser" (idk if that counts as underrated since it's gotta be one of if not THE best of Season 10), and "Chip Off the Old Crock" with the same disclaimer. Then "Whittle Me This" and "Summer Bummer." Those are good.

"Kale Patch Caper"... It's got bits and pieces that don't click with me, but I LOVE morally gray Chloe committing B&E on her neighbors. I love how if Chloe didn't have godparents then canonically her fate is to lose an eye and join a gang. Like. What on earth. They really just dropped that on us and refused to elaborate. What. Love that.

Special shout-out to "Beach Blanket Bozos" for giving me one of my favorite FOP moments of all time, which is Jorgen grouchily sitting on Da Rules to scold Timmy for locking his parents in "I wish they were both the best surfer ever" wish limbo.

We don't talk enough about what a hilarious character Jorgen is. Big boss fairy godparent who can crush your skull. He's not allowed to have a godkid because he'd physically and emotionally destroy them. He's married to the Tooth Fairy... We love a man who's obsessed with his muscles and threatens to destroy you on the regular but in reality he just files paperwork. Which will ruin your life. I love Jorgen.

#Fairly OddParents #FOP #FAIRIES! #Timmy Turner #Jorgen von Strangle #asks #Anon #The toughest tag #I'm simple... point me at whichever character does paperwork. They're mine now. #Dragonfly parents #Perfect pink beaver boy #screenshots #Beach Blanket Bozos #Purple hippie dragonfly #The Odd Squad #Kale Patch Caper #Rebellious golden child

[ann-ndsims]

Seasons of Love Challenge

If you want a mini-challenge that centers on romance, story, and gameplay, then this might be the perfect challenge for you! I introduce to you, the Seasons of Love Challenge! Pair up or create four pairs and be the matchmaker and the writer of their destiny. Get indulged with their story and help them find love by the end of the season!

For each season, we have different couple that may or may not fall in love before the season ends. I recommend that you edit the in-game season length, it can be up to 7, 12, 21 or 25 days per season, depending to you. This challenge can either be rotational or generational, it’s completely up to you. 

Feel free to remove and add some more activities to the following. These are not really rules, but more like guides or checklist that you can do so that you won’t run out of ideas to do for each round, and hopefully, help progress the relationship of the each pair. 

For those who prefer slow-burn romance (like me!) there’s a Slowburn Romance Edition by the end with some set of rules, be sure to check that out! This is supposedly a personal challenge for my game, but I thought it would be nice to share it with the community. If you do this challenge, please don't forget to add the hashtag #TS3SeasonsofLove and mention me, I would love to see other simmers enjoy this little challenge that I've created 💖

Note: You may play this in any order.

SUMMER

trope:  enemies to lovers

backstory:

 - sim A is demoted from her work because of her hotheaded nature, and was assigned in this town where her grandparents/(or) sister live. She absolutely hates that, she wants to go up the ladder and build her name, but how can she do that now that she's demoted and stuck in this town?

 - sim B is carefree and enigmatic, living his life to the fullest. He used to get sick a lot when he was a child and now that he's a teen and rarely gets sick anymore, he wants to break free from those restrictions and do the things he hasn't done in his childhood. 

how things started:

  ~ Just few days before his birthday, sim B is feeling rebellious and wants to spend the best of his teenage days, even if that means breaking the curfew. So, he stayed out late with his friends to party and even went to the beach and lit some fireworks just before he go home. But, on his way home, the police patrol saw him! He knew he's so screwed, but what can he do? He plead with the cop, which happens to be Sim A, but she don't take any of his bullshit. Which eventually leads to some misunderstanding, fight and disliking each other. Guess the last of his teenage day is remarkable afterall, especially if you're being escorted back to your house in police car. 

  ~ If things aren't already worst as they are, he, unfortunately, bumped with the same cop again when she joined the surfing/scuba diving club. Oh well, guess they have to see each other a lot now. Will this be the perfect summer as he imagined, or will it be totally ruined because of that one hot-headed cop?

traits:

childish, athletic, loves the sea

grumpy, natural cook, snob

skills:

Athletics, martial arts, logic

Diving/surfing/swimming, fishing, charming

jobs:

Police

Lifeguard/Scuba diver

misc:

pull booty traps and bicker

prank each other

activities:

scuba dive/surf together

play water balloon fight and pillow fight

throw a pool party and receive positive moodlets. you may do the following:

   * Perform Fireworks Extravaganza (Having three large fireworks i.e. Golden Dragon/Facemelter) during party    * Play in the sand    * play and swim in the water together    * skinny dip together

Try water balloon arena

Spend the summer festival together, join these activities and win Summer Festival Ticket:

  * get holiday greeting card in photobooth   * buy a snow cone   * Get Face Painted       * Skate together   * Soccer Shootout   * HotDog eating contest   * Water Balloon Fights

 date idea: 

Beach date, skinny dip, windsurf, and go boating together, take pictures!

Compete in a bowling alley

Watch a live show performance

Watch a band performance

Recommended Mods: 

Social Club Mod by @phoebejaysims

Surf's Up Sun & Fun Wave store content

SPRING

trope: distant childhood friends to lovers

backstory:

  ~ Sim A and Sim B where inseparable when they're kids. They spent afternoons playing video games, playing with their toys and painting together. But things changed when they entered High School. Sim B moved to a different part of town and became more distant as she found new circle of friends, and eventually, had a boyfriend. She thought it was forever! Only to find out that she's pregnant with someone who totally, totally dislikes children. So, she runaway from home and found herself back to the small apartment where she was raised, back to where sim A lives just next door. 

  ~ Sim A was surprise to see Sim B again. He always wanted to make up and be friends with her again, but he always felt shy and small when he sees her with her new set of friend and popular boyfriend. Now that she's back, will he finally have the courage to talk to her again? 

  ~ Moreover, can Sim B raised this child alone? And will she find comfort again with the boy next door?

traits: 

artistic, dramatic, friendly

socially awkward, artistic, handy

skills:

handiness, inventing, video game

painting

activities:

play video games together

go to karaoke and have a duet

play hopscotch together

compete in darts

visit each other's house and chat

Attend Spring Festival/Love Day together and do the following activities:

    * send love letters     * Slow Dance during Spring Festival     * Spring Dance Queen and Spring Dance King (optional)     * Hunt eggs     * Try kissing booths!     * Try the Love tester machine      * roller skate together     * Play horseshoes together

sim A must make a portrait of the other

sim B must make a toy for sim A's child

misc:

they must be distant friends at start

let Sim A go to parenting classes

let sim B know about the pregnancy before they start dating

Date idea: 

~ Park date, cook the dishes that you will bring, and watch the sunset/sunrise

~ Go to greenhouses and take pictures together in flower fields

~ Amusement park date

AUTUMN

trope: Second chance romance

backstory:

  ~ Sim A and Sim B are highschool sweethearts. They dreamed of living together and building their family when they were teens. They thought it was forever. But things took a drastic change when Sim B suddenly disappeared when his father died, leaving him to live with his mother in France, leaving sim B behind. Sim B never expected this, she never expected to bear a child with Sim A as well. She can't seem to find him anymore, but still, she decided that she will raise this child. 

  ~ Years later, Sim B discovered that their child was sick and only had a few months left. Pile with grief, the kid is constantly looking for his/her father as well. Sim B doesn't want to let her child rest without seeing his/her father. So, again, she tried to look for him. And she found him! Turns out that he's now a rockstar in France, with a name and career. After knowing all of this, he quickly booked the ticket back to their town.

  ~ Will him coming back after years of disappearance mend their broken hearts and finally build the family they've dreamed? Or will they stay together just for the sake of their dying child?

traits:

green-thumb, nurturing, coward

virtuoso, charismatic, materialistic

skill:

Guitar, drums, bass, charming

Cooking, canning, gardening

job:

Music career: Rockstar

Gardener

activities:

take care and grow a plant together

catch butterflies and fireflies on the cottage

play in the pile of leaves

Attend Fall Festival together (with their child). Join in activities and actually have fun!

  * Apple Bobbing contest   * Pie Eating contest   * Enter Haunted House

- Throw a costume or feast party during or before Spooky Time Holiday. You may do the following for the party:

* Plant and grow pumpkins    ~ make Jack-o-lanterns, or;    ~ bake pumpkin pies (or both) * wear costumes for the party * cook and bake the dishes for the party * Let their child do trick-or-treat

must spend time as a family every weekend together and go out of town

must teach the child and help with his/her homework

must accomplish every child's wish

must be a good parent to the child

Both must be best friends with their child

must not argue or fight in front of the child

the child may or may not die

misc:

sell harvestable or jams in the market

Sim B must play for tips on the park

optional woohoo spot:

 woohoo in pile of leaves

date idea: 

~ Coffee Date with just the two of you wearing couple outfits, take pictures!

~ Watch a horror movie together

~ Watch in theater

~ Go to a dive bar or lounge

recommended store content:

Canning Station (store content)

Produce Stand Mod

WINTER

trope: force cohabitation

backstory:

~ After getting tired of the big city, Sim A decides to travel, and he happens to land in this very town and rent in Sim B’s place. He’s a successful author, but he’s very shy and introverted and all the socialization and parties of the big city aren’t for him. He find this new town peaceful and gives him more inspiration to write. Perhaps, he can spend the winter holiday here, or will he decide to settle down in this quiet little town?

~ The death of her mother brings Sim B so much grief. Now that she’s just living on her own, she decides to open again their old bakery and let travelers rent her place. She’s a loner, more now that her mother, her only bestfriend died. Now she just spends her time baking and selling and knitting to ease her mind, will this new traveler who stays with her bring some color in her dull life? 

traits:

shy, brooding, bookworm

loner, perfectionist, unlucky

skills:

Knitting, baking

Writing

job:

Author

Bakery Owner

misc:

- Hang Holiday Lights

- Buy a mistletoe

activities:

- must give gifts to each other

- Attend Winter Festival Together

~ Snowflake Day is held last Thursday of Winter ~ don't do any work. make sure to have positive moodlets and enjoy the festival.   * Take greeting card photos   * snowboard together   * ice skate together

attend (or hold) a gift-giving party

* give gift to each other ~ gift idea: a book written by him, and a cloth knitted by her

make snowmen together

build an igloo together, sleep there

Make snow angels

Have snowball fights

Swim in cold water

kiss under the mistletoe before the season ends

optional: 

the author can sell his book in the bakery itself, or make a mini library space (You can use this mod from nraas)

Sim B can sell the knitted products she did in the bakery

they must work together while the other is writing and the other is knitting

the author must finish at least 3 novels before winter ends

sim B must make at least 2000 simoleons from selling bake goodies

optional woohoo location:

woohoo in igloo

woohoo in sauna

date ideas:

~ go ice skating together, have some cup of cold choco, make snowmen and snow angels, take pictures!

~ have a sauna date!

~ watch a musical performance

~ Library date!

~ Spend sometime outside by the fire at night

recommended mods:

Knitting Mod

Savvier Seller Mod (for the bakery), or

SimState Business Mod, or;

The Merchant Mod by @anitmb

Baking Station (Store Content)

A useful thread on setting up a home bakery

notes:

i know that setting up a home business can be a bit complicated, so you can have 2 alternative options, 1) you can just purchase another community lot near your house and have the bakery there; or, 2) just drop the bakery all at once and you may find a different job for sim B.

ADD-ONS

Of course, this challenge wouldn't be as fun if you didn't share your gameplay and screenshots with the community! So, here are additional things that you can do for all rounds:

Take a screenshot of every activity that you did.

Pick your favorite memories and you may edit them as Polaroid pictures.

Make them do couple poses and take amazing photos of them together!

For each round/season that you finish, edit the photos that you had like a scrapbook, photo album or whatever creative idea you can think of.

Upload them and don't forget to put the hashtag #TS3SeasonsofLove and mention me so I can reblog it!

SLOWBURN ROMANCE EDITION

Now, if you’re like me who likes to take things slow, this rules are for you! You may or may not apply them, just an extra challenge for those who wants slower romance to this challenge. 

You must only force up to only 10 romance interactions, the rest will be up to the sims autonomy and wishes

You can not force them to kiss and woohoo, it will only depend on the sims wish and/or autonomy

You can only force atleast 3 dates, the rest will be up to the sims autonomy/wish

This challenge is made by ann-ndsims. Huge thank you as well to @frostedshore for giving me the idea for the Summer prompt and helping me come up with ideas for this challenge💕 If you like to modify it, convert it or have some suggestions and/or mod recommendations, feel free to send me a message! Don’t forget to mention me if you do this challenge and use the hashtag #TS3SeasonsofLove, I would love to see other simmers enjoy this little challenge that I made. Enjoy and happy simming!

#the sims community #simblr #the sims 3 #ts3 #sims 3 #the sims gameplay #ts3 challenge #the sims 3 challenge #sims 3 challenge #the sims challenge #TS3SeasonsofLove #the sims 3 gameplay #ts3 gameplay #sims 3 gameplay #sims 3 legacy #sims 3 simblr #ts3 screenshots #sims 3 mods #my sims #ts3 simmer #ts3 romance #the sims 3 romance #sims 3 couple #the sims story #the sims legacy

[eywamygoddesswrites]

— 𝓫𝓸𝔂 𝔀𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓼 — (neteyam x fem!reader)

requested: yes

synopsis: golden boy neteyam has a lot of suitors but best friend y/n didn't like any of them and would tease the hell of out neteyam just to see him embarrassed

pairing: neteyam x fem!omatikaya!reader

tags: sarcasm, fluff, implied jealousy, long time pinning

warnings: lowercase intended, swearing

word count: 1.9k

a/n: characters are aged up! this is the very first request by @tejas-kris ! thank you very much for the idea! hope this is to your liking ^u^

+ gif not mine. ctto.

neteyam, as everyone knows, is the next olo’eyktan and the golden child of the sully’s. he’s kind, thoughtful, humble, and everything a leader is. handcrafted by eywa to perfection. all na’vi his age longed to be picked by him when he was to choose a mate.

y/n, the rebellious best friend of neteyam, is also a part of the growing admirers of neteyam but he doesn’t need to know that. she has been a part of his life ever since they could breathe. you’d think that because of being his age and being in his life that they’re best of friends, but you’re wrong!

growing up, y/n would hang with the sully's and have her height measured beside them. at one point, both she and neteyam had the same height until y/n continued to grow taller than the oldest sully kid.

he became the end of her height jokes until he just didn’t care anymore. yeah, it was their thing with the jokes but if someone else says them, y/n would definitely pull those na’vi’s tails and perhaps destroy their dignity if she feels generous.

with age comes maturing of many things, mainly the features of one's face. neteyam grew up into a very handsome na’vi. imagine being the son of toruk makto, son of the daughter of the previous olo’eyktan, first born son, and the next olo’eyktan in the making?? not only that, someone who is strong, smart, sharp, humble, did i mention handsome, and kind?

oh eywa, to be standing beside neteyam and being called his… that’s the dream, right? wrong. not when he’s constantly beside y/n. that bothersome yet loyal companion of his.

neteyam had many suitors come his way. there was inaw, a beautiful na’vi who weaves beautiful baskets and many others. when she was trying to give neteyam a bracelet after she confessed, y/n was there to torment the poor na’vi and by poor na’vi, it’s neteyam. why does he get the end of the torment?

“ooh~ lookie here! neteyam finally got another suitor! and look at this beautiful bracelet,” y/n held neteyam’s wrist up as she examined the gift that inaw had just given neteyam didn’t ask for the bracelet to be put on. inaw just put it on him–

“you weave the most beautiful materials, inaw.” y/n grins, showing her fangs to the na;vi that was slowly backing away out of awkwardness and embarrassment. “and i must admit, it suits his features. made his hands pop out its color and veins.” her voice just laced with sarcasm and her eyes rolled adding to the mockery.

neteyam soon removes the bracelet and gave it back to inaw, face flushed with embarrassment. “i really, really appreciate the gesture. but i’m not looking for a mate now.” neteyam says in a hurry before running off.

y/n turns to the poor na’vi while chuckling. “oh eywa, when will you skxawngs learn?” she once again rolled her eyes before following neteyam, embarrassing him more.

another was a na’vi named nitsek who had a very beautiful singing voice. she would always pull neteyam to sit in the front whenever she and a few other na’vi’s sang during their events.

what nitsek didn’t like was when y/n followed beside neteyam. she hated neteyam’s best friend because it hinders her from pursuing the next olo’eyktan. nitsek would bat her eyelashes and ask neteyam to tell y/n to move to another place so she can do her best in performing.

y/n always hears this and snorts in amusement. what a bold move, she admits, but a very wrong move at it.

“nEteYAm oH My eYwA yOu mUsT tAkE tHis hidEoUs fRienD oF yOurs AwAy fRom thE fRont,” y/n says while mocking nitsek’s voice. “yeah neteyam, you should shoo me away because i might distract your little girly over there,” she says while pointing and wiggling her index finger towards the na’vi girl.

“of course, our cutie over here would protect his ‘future mate’, right? i mean, i know you to be such a protective na’vi but hey, i’m not THAT dangerous now, am i?” y/n raises her brow at neteyam before turning to nitsek, who looked like she was ready to just pounce at the na’vi mocking her.

neteyam’s face was as purple as a yovo fruit. he walks away, not bothering to say goodbye to nitsek. the na’vi tried to call neteyam back but he didn’t return.

y/n blows a bitter kiss towards nitsek and waves goodbye. nitsek was left punching the air and hissing at the leaving na’vi’s way.

out of all the na’vi’s that tried to pursue neteyam, her favorite was roka, an acquaintance of kiri as roka was training to be a tsahik when the day comes. to be fair, she was very good at what she was practicing. one of mo’at’s best students but not one of her favorites.

roka would always ask kiri to be the one to help tend neteyam’s cuts after every raid, not that he needed that much help since he doesn’t get that hurt often. kiri, being the nice friend she is, she would let roka patch neteyam up.

despite meeting up a lot, neteyam and roka were awkward with each other. roka didn’t know how to start conversations with her admiration while neteyam just wants to be finished and leave the tent as soon as he can.

y/n came in with the last group of the raid and asked the other sully kids where was their oldest brother. “he’s in roka’s tent! she’s just patching his cuts up.” tuk says happily while she encircles y/n checking if the older na’vi had any cuts. seeing that there were cuts, she leads y/n to kiri’s tent so she can get patched up.

“sissy! y/n needs to get some bandages.” tuk got some of the medicines that her sister usually uses and some patches to cover the cuts afterward.

upon learning where neteyam was, a sly thought passed her mind. while kiri was patching her up, she motioned tuk to come closer.

“hi’i tuk, can i ask you a favor?” y/n says with a smile, one that kiri was familiar with while tuk was not so. “what is it tsmuke?” tuk asks, her voice just so sweet. no one will know that she has any malicious intentions.

“could you tell your big brother that your tsmuke is hurt badly and needs his support?” y/n pouts a bit to seal the deal. tuk nods immediately before running out the tent. kiri looks up from patching her friend up, an eyebrow raised and a smirk breaking out her mouth.

“you’re such an ass, y/n!” she says while nudging her friend. “whaaaat??? am i wrong?! your friend here is badly hurt and you laugh at her?” y/n raised her hand and dramatically sighs. “what if this was my last day? i would not see my dear neteyam’s face. his oh-so-handsome face that all omatikaya fawns over.” she clasped her hands together and swings her legs.

“eywa, i could never take you seriously with all the shit you say.” kiri snorts before finishing patching y/n up. “but i’m ‘serious’ here. i’m juuuust like everyone else.” y/n air quotes the word ‘serious’ before leaning back against her arms.

“you know, that’s not how you get my older brother’s attention. he already has it on you and you don’t have to try.” kiri says as she placed all the medicine and patches she used back in their places. “he looks at you as if you put the stars up in the sky.”

y/n choked on her saliva before laughing. “noooo no he doesn’t. that perfect ass skxawng does not, and i quote, ‘looks at me as if i put the stars up in the sky’. i get that i can be an asshole to other na’vi’s sometimes,” kiri glares playfully, “sometimes??” “that’s not the point, kiri!” y/n throws her arms up in frustration.

“the point is he doesn’t like me that way, point blank period. i mean, yeah we fight sometimes but i think that’s because we get competitive, and maybe our feelings get the better of us, but he’s such great na’vi. even when i get mad after he won our sparring, he would apologize even when he doesn’t have to.” y/n rests her chin on her palm while looking at kiri.

“when that brother of yours finds the right mate to spend his life with, i wouldn’t find anyone like him who would put up with me. i mean, with this personality, who would? even if i say ‘i love him’, would he say he loves me back?” she mumbles the last sentence while playing with her anklet. one that she made with neteyam and matched with.

when kiri didn’t reply, y/n looked up to see what was happening. kiri had stopped her actions and was looking behind y/n.

y/n turns around to see neteyam with tuk not far behind. realization hit her hard like bricks. he positively, absolutely heard everything she had said. fuck.

“i’ll leave you two to chat, alright?” kiri says while pushing tuk away from the tent, her little voice growing further as she asked her sister why.

neteyam moved close to y/n, a small space between them enough space to leave for eywa. y/n’s ears flatten as her tail swayed furiously. she stood up to leave but neteyam pulled her back, both standing in the middle of the tent.

“you heard nothing from me, okay?! absolutely nothing.” y/n glares right at neteyam’s eyes only to look away almost immediately.

neteyam, who’s face was just purple after hearing that his heart’s love had just confessed her feelings so straightforwardly, how was he supposed to react? his tail sways in a small but fast motion, ears twitching in happiness as he smiled.

“so you do feel the same way i do.” neteyam says as a matter of fact. y/n rolled her eyes before punching his shoulder softly. “no i don’t.” his grin widen before pulling her into a hug. this caught y/n off-guard before she tried to get him off of her. she ultimately gave up and hugged him back. he can hear her heart beat fast as he rest his head against her chest.

“i see you.” neteyem softly says while playing with a braid of y/n’s. y/n’s eyes widen as her heart raced. oh eywa, it’s happening… it’s hAPPENING–

“it’s alright if you don’t say it now. i will wait for you for as long as it takes.” neteyam adds before letting go of her, only to be pulled back into the hug, this time, her chin resting on top of his head.

“i see you, neteyam. for such a long time, it’s just you in my head,” she says, her voice was small, quiet almost but he heard her well.

he was glad. neteyam had loved this tall na’vi since forever and to be in her arms at this moment just feels so… right. y/n thought the same. she can finally keep him in her grasp, never to be let go. and besides, she needs an armrest and neteyam is there to provide it for her.

“am i also in your heart?”

“oh shut up, skxawng!!”

na'vi dictionary (seen in order):

hi'i - small

tsmuke - sister

#avatar x reader #avatar x fem!reader #avatar x you #avatar x y/n #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #atwow #neteyam x reader #neteyam x fem!reader #neteyam x na’vi!reader #neteyam x omatikaya!reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully x fem!reader #neteyam sully x na’vi!reader #neteyam sully x omatikaya!reader #neteyam sully x you #neteyam sully x y/n #avatar neteyam #avatar neteyam sully #avatar 2 neteyam #avatar 2 neteyam sully #atwow neteyam #atwow neteyam sully #x reader #x fem!reader #Spotify #↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ penpal ˊ-

[margueritedaisies]

I just love drawing families of fictional characters, its interesting to think of how each sibling would look. I try to make them different from one another but at the same time maintain familial similarities.

Jinzha resembles their mom, Muzha their dad, and Nezha's a good mix of both.

Also get ready with some sibling dynamic rant, mostly relation HCs by me.

Enough with the parent child dynamic

I want sibling dynamic. Where these three come to terms on what happened between them. Specifically Muzha and Nezha's interaction is the one I want to see.

Tbh those two's fates in the myth reminded me of Hyakkimaru and Tahomaru in Dororo.

Like Nezha and Muzha had so much potential to gain solidarity with each other. Because Jinzha could never relate to them as the ignored or unwanted child. Muzha has that middle child stuggle fr.

Muzha is the one so eager to gain their fathers favor trying to meet Jinzha's level . Nezha wants nothing from his father so he makes himself worse.

Muzha's frustration with Nezha is that Nezha is rebellious, disrespectful of their dad

While Nezha's frustration to Muzha is that Muzha is so blinded and always struggling to achieve something so futile. Deep down he hates how Muzha is suffering this way but he wouldnt speak of it. This is why they always at odds.

They should make a movie focusin the Li brothers fr

Other than overusing the actual myths.

Fuck the ending from the original myth, they didnt even consider how the children felt from all the abuse. Not even mention of Muzha's death.

Enough Ao Bing, what about Muzha???

And the moral lesson is just about "respecting elders"?? The story still had so much to wrap up. How can you call this a family if there is some sort of hierarchal system. A family requires empathy to maintain that connection.

Tbh its kinda realistic

Families and siblings can still inflict trauma from each other .And a story based on reconcilation is a good way for this to be about family counselling.

I wanna see the "what ifs". It could be each brothers own story of self healing from the trauma caused on each other.

Maybe Im getting my hopes up too much, but it could be a development for them to forgive, start anew and an opportunity to connect and catch up on what they missed on each other.

Edit:

As for Jinzha he also has his own struggles as the eldest. Keeping up the station as the golden favored and perfect son. But its Asian family dynamics, which means hes in a lot of pressure. But he is mentally and emotionally strong. The brothers always busy on his studies ,future responsibilities and training to be able to spend time together. Their timetables seemed to be planned out to always not meet. Jinzha especially had less freetime. And if he ever came across any of his brothers, it was only one of them never both.

He doesnt mind being a buffer for the other two feuding but it does stress him out that it will never change. But he'll make sure to give time and attention to both of them as much as he can.

Other than keeping up his fathers expectations he also doesnt want to fail as a big brother to them🥺😭

Muzha and Nezha can see his efforts so they do not dare hold anything against him. Muzha still keeps his competitive attitude when Jinzha's around but accepts any offered kindness from Jinzha. While Nezha enjoys his company when he gets the chance.

Also because I tend to hold on to this little bit of bonding😭🥺🥺Jinzha trying to be the best big bro

Thinking of the contrast in the future where Jinzha was tasked to torture Nezha destroyed me😭😭😭What did Jinzha even feel while he had to do it??

Also here some Nezha with his hair down again

#li nezha #li muzha #li jinzha #nezha #nezha fanart #nezha lmk #character hc #sibling dynamics #li brothers #investiture of the gods

[florydaax]

The Sims 3 - Stuff Pack Legacy (Lepacy Extended)

Hey, everyone! I completed the Lepacy Challenge recently, but I love my family so much and I want to keep playing with them. That's why I made this challenge! You can play this after you've completed Lepacy but you can also play this challenge on its own! The challenge is inspired by the nine stuff packs. You don't necessarily need the stuff packs to play this. The different generations are inspired by the themes of the packs. Stuff packs also didn't come with any new gameplay so you're not missing anything if you don't have them! This challenge is inspired by the Lepacy Challenge, where each generation is a different expansion pack, but with this challenge each generation is a different stuff pack! (Rules may be subject to change as I'm still playtesting this challenge) Generation One: High-End Loft

Traits: Computer Whiz, Dislikes Children, Party Animal, Snob, Workaholic Lifetime wish: Living in the Lap of Luxury Career: Business Rules: - Live in a loft - Have only one child - Master the guitar skill - Date your boss - Reach the top of the Business career and complete the aspiration Generation Two: Fast Lane Traits: Daredevil, Flirty, Handy, Rebellious, Vehicle Enthusiast Lifetime wish: The Tinkerer Career: Athletic Rules: - Learn to drive as a teen - Have at least 3 cars - Become best friends with your cars - Fix the Fixer-upper Car - Reach the top of the Athletic career and complete the aspiration Generation Three: Outdoor Living Traits: Artistic, Clumsy, Green Thumb, Loves the Outdoors, Natural Cook Lifetime wish: The Perfect Garden Career: Gardener Rules: - Master the cooking and gardening skills - Throw a BBQ party every week - You can only Try for Baby in a hot tub - Reach the top of the Gardener career and complete the aspiration Generation Four: Town Life Traits: Bookworm, Family-Oriented, Friendly, Mooch, Neat Lifetime wish: Super Popular Career: Education or Politician Rules: - Get a part-time job as a teen - Have 20 friends and 5 enemies - Have at least 4 kids - Get out of the house every day - Reach the top of the career and complete the aspiration Generation Five: Master Suite Traits: Commitment Issues, Flirty, Great Kisser, Heavy Sleeper, Irresistible Lifetime wish: Master Romancer Career: Spa specialist Rules: - (Risky) woohoo with different Sims every week - Accidentally get pregnant - Never get married - Complete the aspiration Generation Six: Katy Perry's Sweet Treats Traits: Childish, Insane, Loser, Natural Born Performer, Party Animal Lifetime wish: Vocal Legend Career: Singer Rules: - Live in Candyfornia (or Candy Land) - Adopt a cat (Kitty Purry) - Only eat sweets (no autumn salad allowed) - Throw a party every Friday - Be disliked by 10 Sims - Reach the top of the Singer career and complete the aspiration Generation Seven: Diesel Traits: Artistic, Diva, Grumpy, Perfectionist, Photographer's Eye Lifetime wish: Fashion Phenomenon or Home Design Hotshot Career: Stylist or Interior designer Rules: - Have triplets (you can use cheats/mods for this) - Master the photography skill - Reach the top of the career and complete the aspiration Generation Eight: 70s, 80s & 90s Traits: Flirty, Hot-Headed, Party Animal, Social Butterfly, Virtuoso Lifetime wish: Golden Tongue, Golden Fingers Career: Band Rules: - Play with the triplets, they all have a different style inspired by the pack - Each heir has to master an instrument - Form a band - Complete the aspiration with your main heir Generation Nine: Movie Traits: Ambitious, Brave, Charismatic, Dramatic, Star Quality Lifetime wish: Superstar Actor Career: Film Rules: - Play in 3 different worlds (western, horror and super hero themed) - Live your Sims' life like it's a movie - Reach the top of the Film career and complete the aspiration

#sims3stuffpacklegacy #sims3legacy #sims3 #thesims3 #sims #thesims #ts3

[thesoftboiledegg]

I thought this Twitter thread was pretty interesting. I grew up watching The Simpsons in the 90s, but as a child, I didn't have any thoughts beyond "This is funny." I do remember Christian parents complaining about it. In my elementary school class, you either lived in a Simpsons household or your parents wouldn't let you watch it.

I never thought of The Simpsons as an edgy show, but I guess it pushed boundaries at the time: a cable TV show with a cursing, rebellious kid and an alcoholic father. The golden age episodes also had incisive political and cultural commentary that probably didn't sit well with certain people.

Anyway, after shows like South Park, Rick and Morty wasn't controversial because it was "edgy"--it was controversial because it attracted a deranged Reddit bro fanbase. I hate how much that defines the show's legacy.

#rick and morty #the simpsons #south park