#So I don’t know a single person who knows all these characters so this is kind of pointless

[shycroissanti]

I know you like to be welcoming to everyone, but it’s okay to not ship your OCs with everyone else’s. I can’t imagine how overwhelmed you get trying to make everyone happy. And I also can’t imagine how many people are struggling for your attention when you make a new character and the only interest they have in it is shipping. It sort of breaks my heart to see you make a new oc and the only people who seem to care about it are people trying to make a ship.

I see you’re getting burned out more often and taking a lot of breaks… but your blog should be a fun place, not something you avoid because you’re stressed by it. Maybe limiting requests or only keeping OC ships to good friends would help you relax. You don’t have to take my advice if this makes you happy. I’m just a bit worried about you. Especially since you seem tired all the time and recently made a post saying you were worried about people being upset with you if your characters already had ships and you didn’t want to add any more.

I would also like to say that some people like the shipping because they just want free art of their OC and less because they actually want to bond with you. Many people do not realize they are being like this.

Your real friends will not be bothered by you putting up boundaries. The only people that will be upset are selfish, too young to understand, or people who didn’t consider your feelings at all.

Just take care of yourself, Shy. I’m sorry if I’m overstepping. And of if I have this totally wrong, just say so.

You're right, I recognize that I've been doing this lately...

It's a fact, I'm very afraid of making others upset, I really want to please everyone. I've actually been feeling a little overwhelmed lately, but I don't know how to deal with it.

I love making ships with my OCs with the OCs of my moots, I really really like this interaction, I was just getting worried about the situation where more than one person wants to make ships with a single OC, I'm afraid of causing confusion with that.

I'll get better with this, I swear, I even want to tell you that I've been trying to be more like you, you know? "Post what you want" I've been trying to do this more often and it's making me happy🥹

I have several plans for the future with my OCs and I'm optimistic about that, even if I'm still a bit clumsy at communicating, and I'm pretty sure that everything I wrote here must be a little confusing because it really took me by surprise, I really value your attention and words so much and after I read everything (including what you said in the other posts too), I started crying, in a good way❤️

[writingonleaves]

were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? (did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?) - jeremy swayman

pairing: jeremy swayman x original female character

warnings: swearing, pretty angsty. hopeful ish ending because i can't do sad endings, very personal but i think many can relate in their own way, cliche ish, barely proofread

inspired by + title: "the smallest man who ever lived" by taylor swift

word count: 5.6k

author's note: i'd argue almost every piece any author writes is personal, because it has their life interspersed through the words. but this one really is, because a majority of this is the exact same words i wrote years ago after a break-up. heard the bridge to this song and immediately knew i had to write something inspired by it. also trying a new format of sorts (maybe a bit meta??), so i hope you enjoy and lmk what you think!!

~*~*~

When Noelle Betsko walked away from Jeremy Swayman, holding back tears until the call dropped, she knew it was going to be a tough time for the foreseeable future. 

It didn’t matter that the pandemic had forced them apart. She knew she would still feel him for months to come.

She did the only thing she knows how to do when trying to deal with things. The one thing she always resorts to as an aspiring novelist. Sometimes on her laptop when the words were spilling out too quickly for her brain to catch up, tears littering the keyboard. Usually in her old beat-up journal, scribbling in the cursive that Jeremy claimed he always loved (“It makes your handwriting unique”) with the pens he had gifted her just a few months prior. 

At the age of 21, Noelle got her heart broken for the first time. At the age of 26, she’s about to publish her first poetry collection of sorts, all of the poems modeled after journal entries written throughout her life. So not really poetry, though her mother would say otherwise. 

She swallows as she thumbs through the middle part of the first known and binded copy of “miscellaneous.” There are only eight entries in the whole collection that are taken verbatim from her past writing. These are the eight.

May 13, 2020 (three days post-breakup, crying in my childhood bedroom)

I don’t even recognize who I was and who you were in those writings before these pages filled with love and hope and happiness. I can’t even summon up those feelings anymore that I knew existed at one point. Those feelings of complete bliss and love for someone so deep you can’t explain it. 

I’m mad at myself for not being able to conjure those feelings, because at one point, I did love you. How could something that was part of my daily life for over two years just disappear so quickly? 

But now, I’m not mad at myself. I’m mad, but I don’t know where to direct that anger to. I feel a bit empty sometimes, but then frustrated the next. Sometimes I get sad, but not so much compared to the other feelings. I spent enough time being sad during our relationship.

When we broke up, on an annoyingly beautiful Tuesday in May — over the damn phone, mind you, which whatever, it’s COVID. Fine — You told me you felt like you had been putting more effort into us. 

At the time, I didn’t react, but I’ve been thinking about how angry that statement made me. Makes me, actually. I was always very open with how much I gave to that relationship. How much it meant to me. How much it affected me. But I understand that with some people, sharing everything too much equates to things not meaning anything anymore. But you out of all people should’ve known that I mean everything I say.

I felt like I gave so much. I know I gave so much. When I told you I loved you, I always meant it. Every single time. When I told you I missed you, I always meant it. I wished you were right next to me at that moment. I mentally gave so much, because to me, I wanted to. You were always on my mind, always high up on my list of priorities. I never took us for granted.

I’ve been questioning if that was the same for you. Did you start becoming complacent?

The second thing you said that day that hasn’t left my head is that you knew me pretty well. And initially, I remember not thinking much of it. So I don’t doubt that; you always knew right when I was about to cry, even over the phone. You often knew when I was mad or upset, but when I look back now, you never pushed. Which is a good thing, to an extent. But it was a bad thing sometimes too. I knew you often wanted to give me space, but sometimes I didn’t want space. I wanted you to push. To try to understand. Maybe that’s unfair of me; it probably is. I should just say I want to talk about it more, right? 

But if you genuinely knew me, you would’ve known.

After two years, seven months and 12 days,  I still feel like I didn’t know you. Did I ever know you at all?

When people talked shit about you, I always defended you. And I still would defend you now. But lately, I've questioned what I’m even defending. All those good qualities that I thought you had, were they even real? Of course, I know some of them were, to a certain extent. But as I look back on us, there’s a lot of doubt about whether I even knew the person I called my boyfriend for so long. I know there was a point where you cared about me, but I can’t remember when. 

I often felt like I was letting you know so much about my life, but you didn’t do the same. I get that sometimes a person just wants to forget about the bad and focus on the good with a person you like for awhile. I get that. But once that was happening every damn time? That should’ve been a red flag. 

June 7, 2020 (twenty eight days post break-up, outside my childhood room on the deck) 

I don’t understand how you can give so much to something or someone and have it not be recognized or appreciated or enough. If I wasn’t enough for you, how will I be enough for anyone?

I hope one day you’ll truly understand how much this hurt. Not just the breakup, but feeling like I was always being pulled in a direction I didn’t always want to be pulled in. Feeling I was stuck between a rock and a hard place and never ever being able to win. I hate that I settled so much in the last year. Because I should’ve demanded more, even though deep down I knew you were never going to be able to give it to me.

I think back to our past daily texts, and I just don’t get it. At one point, we both meant the things we said to each other. 

Yet we still hurt each other. 

This fucking hurts.

You’ve hurt me so much, but most of it wasn’t intentional, which I think is somewhat even worse. Because I’m not totally mad at you for causing the pain. You never did anything outright to cause me pain, but I still feel like you did. 

Unintentional pain almost stings more than intentional. 

When I asked you out that night after we were both on an emotional high, I took a chance. For once in my life, I took the leap, knowing that I could get humiliated or hurt or just straight up shot down. 

Where did it all go wrong? Or, more realistically, how did we think that we could go through the wrong when it was there at the start?

I’m trying not to blame myself too much. Trying not to tell myself that I should’ve known better. 

All those times, especially at the start, when I would ask you if you genuinely liked me, you always thought I was just trying to be annoying. But you never understood that I genuinely thought that way. My self confidence from the start was lacking, and you didn’t try to understand that, because I come across to everyone as confident and self-assured. 

It hurt, when you would brush things off like that. I felt like you didn’t care.

And then, it got to the point where I stopped asking that question. Part of that is because I did become more confident and you did show that you cared, and part of that was because I knew it would piss you off.

The amount of things I was scared to talk about with you because I knew it would piss you off? I don’t wish that feeling on anybody.

I shouldn’t have been scared. I shouldn’t have been uncomfortable. But I was. And if you did notice like sometimes you claimed to, why didn’t you make it more comfortable for me? Was that too much to ask for? 

So larger than life that at the end, you faded into just the smallest man who ever lived. Fuck you.

Was it too much to ask for when I just wanted to know why you were upset? You didn’t have to ever tell me the full story (lord knows there were times I didn’t), but was it too much to ask for something? You told me once that I’m the person you’ve told the most to. How? You barely told me anything. And when I wanted to talk to you, whether it was about growing up in Alaska or why you were in a bad mood last night, you always brushed it off. Always. 

So I don’t feel so bad about feeling like I gave more effort. I gave so much of myself to you. If you really cared about me like you claimed you did, why couldn’t you show even just 1% of that care back? Or just meet me in the middle?

I could’ve tried harder to meet you in the middle, I’ll admit that. But you didn’t even give me a map or a clue how to. 

I felt so fucking left in the dark. I felt left in the dark about my own fucking relationship, something that I should be completely sure about. If you really love someone and care about them, how can you leave them in the dark? How could you not even see that I was struggling to find a flashlight?

You did care about me. I know that. To some extent and at some point in time, you did care about me. But caring about someone and their well-being isn’t always enough.

Why couldn’t you have worked with me? When I was extending my hand out, why didn’t you reach for it? How can someone just be so blind? I mean, I’m practically always spelling it out for you. 

Maybe I am being selfish. But fuck, I just wanted to be happy. At some point, you made me happy. When did I start making you feel like I wasn’t enough? Why wasn’t I enough for you?

It’s useless, in a way, to keep going about this. Because I know I deserve better. And we’ll both find people who are better for us. We just couldn’t be that person to each other.

I fucking loved you.

I wish it ended differently.

July 8, 2020 (fifty nine days post-breakup, in front of the lake)

I really really fucking miss you. 

I do. 

I miss being able to text you that i love you and not necessarily expecting a response until the next morning. I miss knowing that as soon as you wake up, you’ll text me back and assure me that yeah, you love me too. 

I’m left feeling bittersweet as I look back on memories that are just splashes and not definite strokes on the canvas that used to be us.

I miss having you as a friend. 

I’ve been having more urges lately to want to text you. And it isn’t even anything important. Just moments I experience throughout the day.

Do you get the urge to do the same?

July 19, 2020 (seventy days post-breakup, still in the same damn house)

It’s hard. It really is. And it kinda just hits you at random parts of the day. Sometimes I wake up from a dream that you were in and have to remind myself that it didn’t happen. 

Sometimes it physically aches when I realize that you won’t ever help me put on my jacket again, or complain that my hair is in your face when we’re lying on the couch watching Brooklyn Nine Nine, or groan when I drag you up to dance with me (which you never improved on, no matter how many times I tried to teach you basic rhythm). I can’t view our song the same way anymore, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. 

The other day, I read some simple thing on Twitter. I don’t even remember what it was, but I do remember that for a split second, I could see your smile in my mind. But it wasn’t just any smile. It was the smile you gave me when you took me ice skating that first time. I remember asking you what you were smiling at, and you said that you just were taking in this moment. I don’t know if you took a mental picture that day, but I know I did. That day seems so long ago now. 

In almost anything I do, you somehow pop into my mind or into the conversation. And it’s not even in a harmful way either. It’s because you were part of my life for so long. I see a dog on the street, and it reminds me of how you always stopped to pet every single one we’s see I write something in my messy handwriting, and I remember how you always used to complain that you couldn’t read the notes I’d occasionally leave around your place when you went away. I went to the doctor’s the other day, and they said I was 5 feet and 3 inches, which is just definitely not true, and I almost reached for my phone to text you, because you would’ve cackled and insisted that no, I’m 5 feet 2 inches and it wouldn’t even matter because I’ll always be shorter than you. It’s simple and minute things that make me miss you that much more.

I still can’t listen to some songs the same way anymore, but I can at least listen to them now, which is a feat in itself. I was unpacking from college and found the teddy bear you sent me the first extended time we had to be apart and had to immediately put that out of my sight. From those boxes also came photos that I had decorated my dorm room with, and to be honest, I’m glad now that I let you keep our best one. I deal with all my emotions, besides writing, by making Spotify playlists, and I made a new one earlier this week. I think it’s helping. It’s a slow process, this whole moving on thing, but it’s one that I’m trying to be grateful for, because like most things in life, you just don’t truly know until you go through it.

Sometimes, I find myself wondering how you are and how you’re healing. But, even though we’ve both changed since the day we met, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’re incredibly strong and stubborn. I hope that you’re finding some growth in this process too. 

October 17, 2020 (one hundred fifty seven days post-break up, apartment in orono)

It’s been almost 5 months, and you still cross my mind everyday. 

Why wasn’t I enough for you? Why didn’t you fucking tell me what you were thinking? Why was I the one who had to approach you just because I was just so done with the silent treatment?

But I’m not mad at you. Not anymore. The mad phase passed ages ago. 

Closure is a fake word. Even a breakup as mutual and smooth as ours was still left me with so many questions that will probably never be answered. 

Any breakup fucks you up to some extent. I knew it was going to mess me up even back when we were together. But not like this. Never like this. 

But like anything in life, I guess you can never really prepare for what you think you might feel, because most of the time, you discover a whole new side of you that you never thought existed. 

I don’t miss you. I don’t. I don’t feel that love in any way anymore. 

But I did once.

You did too, right?

November 15, 2020 (one hundred eighty six days post break-up, fogler library)

I hate Halloween. 

Though, it did bring me to you three years ago. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you right then and there. 

Three years later, you texted me on Halloween, five months after our breakup. The universe really, really wanted to fuck with me. 

It was a tough night for you. I knew that. Because I know how you are after losing a game you should’ve won. But that didn’t mean that I owed you anything and had to respond. 

We agreed on no contact if we ever wanted to stay friends. Clearly, friends is out of the picture now, but come on. A vulnerable text after a bad night because you know I would feel bad for you?

Fuck, you know how much I would hate that. You had to have known. 

Just because we’re not dating anymore doesn’t mean that everything about you just disappears. I still know your tendencies. I still know exactly how my head burrows into your chest during a hug. I still know the actions I used to do that would be followed by you attacking me with a hug. I still could point you out in a crowd. 

I looked for you in every crowd for years. 

That stuff doesn’t just go away, no matter how much I want it to. But fuck. Fuck. Why did you text me? 

I don’t regret how I handled it. I probably would’ve responded months ago. But just like you, I’ve grown these last couple of months. 

It was comforting, for a split second, to know that maybe, just maybe, these past couple of months have been hard for you too. It makes me feel human. It makes me feel like I’m not crazy.

I’m glad you texted me. You gave me another level of closure I hadn’t known that I needed until then. 

But fuck, dude. You know me better than that. You should know me better than that. 

I hate Halloween.

November 26, 2020 (one hundred ninety seven days, at the coffee shop i brought you to when you came home with me two years ago)

I don’t regret loving you, but I hate you for what you did to me. 

Or maybe not. 

I hate knowing that even though we haven’t been in a relationship in a bit, it feels like sometimes, you’re on my mind the exact same amount when we were dating. I hate knowing that I gave so much of myself and my love to you, and it always felt unrecognized. 

Fuck, will it ever stop hurting? Will I ever be able to have to stop myself from thinking about you? Will it ever stop?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy it.

June 12, 2021 (three hundred ninety five days post-break up, in boston, visiting a friend)

Tonight, when a friend asked me about you and how I felt about how we ended, I was able to articulate my thoughts clearly. I’m really proud of myself for getting to a point where I can take the lessons I learned the few months after we broke up and acknowledge them in a succinct way without breaking down into tears. Just watery eyes and the occasional voice crack 

I’m also proud that I can say that when we were dating, I lost a bit of myself. For months, it was really hard to admit out loud.

I’m proud of how far I’ve come. Sometimes, I wish I could call or text you about it, because I think you’d be proud too. And I know I’d be proud of you. I am, to be honest. I do break resolve once in awhile and check on you through various avenues.

I still haven’t seen you in person since the last time COVID made us say goodbye. Maybe I never will again. But day by day, I’m starting to accept that and be okay with it. I’m accepting that memories that used to be so painted in my mind are blurry or almost completely erased now. But that’s okay. Honestly, it’s probably for the best. 

I wonder, when you think about it, if you think about different moments that I do. That’s the thing when something ends. You have to be okay with letting go of those moments and realizing that just because you forget them, doesn’t mean they weren’t important. 

I don’t think I miss you. I hesitate in saying that. Because I’ve moved on and handled the aftermath of it better than I think both of us ever thought I could. When you hung up the phone for the last time, I proved to myself again that I’m stronger than I give myself credit for. I think we all are. But we don’t realize it until we’re thrown into a situation that we think we’ll never be able to overcome. 

But we do. Whether it’s because we’re forced to because there’s no other option, it doesn’t matter. Because we get through. We move on. 

I hope you're moving on. 

And then it goes into other topics, graduating during a pandemic specifically and losing what’s supposed to be your last year of no responsibilities before adulthood. There are other poems in here that reference a past relationship, but not as much as these eight. 

If there’s one thing that Noelle did change, it was taking out the details. Jeremy may have hurt her, but he doesn’t deserve someone possibly making a connection between these poems and their shared background. She’s not a famous author by any means, but she wanted to be careful.

Not that she makes that part of her life publicly known. People don’t need to know that her brother was Jeremy’s captain for two years at Maine and that’s how they met. 

Noelle grew up going to rinks. She hasn’t gone to one since they broke up. 

But also, what the fuck? It’s been five years since she’s dated the guy. She really is over it by now, even if his rise to stardom in the Bruins flittering on her social media feeds still sometimes has her swallowing a bit before she can continue with her day. 

Brooklyn is far enough from Boston. But sometimes it feels like it’s right outside her door. 

She’s proud of her first published work. She really is. People believed in her and after numerous notes swapped back and forth with her editor, she did it. She always knew she wanted to work in publishing. She never knew she herself would publish anything.

And here she is now, two weeks after the book release, in Boston, about to do a q&a and a signing. Apparently, “miscellaneous” has been on top of numerous lists and it’s flying off the shelves. Noelle can’t really believe it and tries not to think about it too much, trusting her agent with all of that. 

She’s happy to talk about her work and process though. That she can handle. And she’s grateful for all the love.

After a signing at a local bookstore, she decides to walk the 20 minutes home in the Boston fall. It’s a bit brisk, but she doesn’t mind and she just wanders, belly filled with delicious sushi she inhaled for dinner with an old friend.

Of course it happens the one time during her walk when she doesn’t avoid eye contact with someone. The song playing in her earbuds fade out of her focus and she almost stumbles. 

Jeremy’s eyes were always Noelle’s favorite thing about him. She thought she would’ve forgotten what they looked like by now. But clearly she hasn’t. 

Her eyes quickly cast to the person next to him. It’s definitely a girl. They’re a bit too far away for Noelle to pick out details. But it’s enough. He’s walking on the side closest to the street. It’s a Friday Night in a bustling part of the city. 

It hurts. She wishes it didn’t.

Even from far away, she sees his eyes blink in recognition. Noelle puts her head back down and walks faster. 

(She cries in the shower when she gets back to the hotel. She had debated feeling super sorry for herself and going to the hotel bar but refrained)

She has a few free days in Boston before flying back to New York. When she wakes up the next morning, she debates on going home early. But no, she won’t let a three second glance at someone ruin her time here. She used to occasionally come here during her college days. She loves this city. 

The city may be Jeremy’s, but she can make space for herself here too. 

She takes her time at a cafe, people watching and eating some breakfast. As she takes her coffee to-go, she looks out the window at the bookstore she was in the night before for the signing. She almost drops her coffee. 

Jeremy walks into the book store. 

Now, Noelle is debating her options. What she should do is continue with her day and walk in the opposite direction. But she’s always been too nosy for her own good. And maybe a bit self destructive. She decides to leave the cafe and cross the street immediately, so impatient to where she’s almost tapping her foot as the pedestrian signal stays red. 

As a writer, she’s no stranger to movie moments. The scenes written in books or movies where the timing is too accurate to be real. The situation too good to be true. But after a car speeds through an orange and she can finally walk, she stops in her tracks instead, feet glued down to the sidewalk.

Because Jeremy is right in front of her on the other side of the street. Her book in his hand. And he’s looking right at her. 

The first feeling she can recognize in herself is anger. Anger at the way their relationship panned out. Anger at the way they ended. Anger at the radio silence the years following. Anger at him for everything. Angry at herself for everything. 

The second feeling is, weirdly, shame, which she’s embarrassed by. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. But she feels it anyways. 

The third, and perhaps the most prominent, is emptiness. Five fucking years later, and she’s brought back to the emptiness she felt immediately after they broke up. The emptiness that the person you loved isn’t yours anymore — who maybe wasn’t ever yours to begin with. 

Before she can run, he’s already crossed the street to her. He looks naturally different as someone who you haven’t seen in five years would. But he also heartbreakingly looks the same. 

“We should get out of people’s way,” Noelle manages to chokes out. 

Jeremy laughs a bit. Her heart lurches. “Yeah.” He starts walking and she follows him wordlessly. This is his city after all. 

He leads them to a bench under a tree with beautiful fall foliage. She puts at least a foot between them as they both sit down, staring out at the people passing. She can’t take the silence. 

“I see you bought my book.”

“I did,” he replies evenly. “Congratulations. I always knew you would do it.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. Maybe if she squeezes hard enough she’ll forget when she originally pitched Jeremy the bare bones idea of the exact same book that’s currently in his hand. “Thank you. Congratulations to you too. On everything.”

“You’ve been watching?”

She shakes her head. “No. But, you know Seth and…yeah. It comes up during family calls sometimes.”

“Why didn’t you say hi last night?”

She looks pointedly at a couple walking their dog. “You seemed busy.”

“She wasn’t-that-it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh. Because that makes me feel so much better,” she spits out, before taking a deep breath. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. We broke up ages ago.”

“I’m sorry,” she gives him a look and is slightly proud of how he seems to shrink into himself a bit. “I-I know it’s five years too late. I know I didn’t handle it as well as I should’ve. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

The thing is, Noelle always thought that maybe hearing an apology someday would make her feel better. But now that’s heard it, she’s not sure she does. 

She swallows. “I appreciate that.”

“I’ve already read it, you know.”

“Read what?”

Jeremy runs a hand through his hair. “Your book. One of my teammate’s girlfriend recommended it and I asked to borrow it. It’s fantastic,” He looks down at the book in his hand. It’s like the cover is taunting her. “I wanted my own copy.”

“Oh.” 

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me off the hook with the poems I know were about me,” he scoffs, shaking his head at himself. “You could’ve written way worse.”

She can’t help but let out a chuckle. “I thought I was pretty mean.”

“Your definition of ‘pretty mean’ is tame compared to a lot of people,” he says, mindlessly flipping through the pages of the book. “You were always the kindest person, even when you shouldn’t have been..” 

He puts his hand out in her direction, the hand with the book in it. She furrows her eyebrows. “What-”

“Could I get a signed copy?”

“Jeremy. What do you want from me?”

He sighs, taking his hand back. “A chance to apologize?”

“You’ve already done that.”

“Not in the way I want to and what you deserve.”

She lets out a sigh, turning to face him fully. “I don’t know if that would be worth my time or yours. I know the book just came out, but that was five years ago. I’m over it. Forgive and forget, right?”

“But do you?” Jeremy counters back. “Clearly, you don’t forget, which I deserve. But forgive?” 

“We’re just going in circles now.”

“No we’re not,” he says firmly. “You’re just shutting me down because you don’t want to talk about it. I’ve had five years to prepare what I would say to you if I saw you again. You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“Of course I have,” Noelle tips her head back. “But also, what’s the point?”

“The point, is that I still love you.”

“Fuck you,” she says in a strained voice. “You can’t just-you can’t just throw that shit out there. Fuck you.”

He bites his lip, and to her annoyance, he laughs. But she listens more carefully, and it sounds very self deprecating. “I deserved that.”

“Yeah,” Noelle looks down at her feet. “So…what? You still love me?”

“I do.”

“And what are you going to do about that?”

“What are you going to let me do?”

“I live in Brooklyn.”

“I know,” she whips her head up. Jeremy looks sheepish, which she didn’t even think was something he knew how to do. “Seth mentioned it when we caught up a bit ago. I also still follow you on Instagram.”

She tries again. “It’s been five years.”

“And I’m here sitting with you and still feel the exact same way I did back then. Even more, to be honest.” He eyes her pointedly. “Any more excuses?”

Her voice softens. “You really hurt me.”

“I know. And I’m so sorry, Noelle.”

“I hurt you too.”

He shrugs. “We were young and stupid.”

“And we’re still not?” Noelle says with a snort before swallowing. “I’m not the same person you fell in love with.”

“I’m sure I’m not either. But I don’t know if there’s a world where I don’t love every version of you.”

“Even after reading the book?”

“Especially after reading the book,” he sighs. “Noelle, I know this is unfair of me. All of this. And I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to reach out. But I always intended to. And then you’re here? And I see you twice in two days? I’d be an idiot to not try. More of an idiot than I am, anyways.”

“Try for what?”

“A second chance? To be friends? Whatever you want.” He suddenly deflates. “Even if you don’t want anything to do with me. At least I’ll know.”

“Why did you never text me?”

“I thought about it a lot,” he admits. “I tried once, actually, after the high of a really good win. But it didn’t go through. I got the message.”

“The message?”

“You blocked me, right?”

Oh. “Yeah,” she lies. “I did.” She reaches into her bag for a pen and gestures for the book, which he gives to her, a curious gleam in his eyes. “I’m in Boston for two more days, including today.”

He takes the hint immediately. Eagerly. “I have a game tonight, but I’m free tomorrow.”

“Who are you guys playing?”

“Toronto. And I’m starting. Should be a good one.”

She hums non-committedly, scribbling on the inside of the front cover. She hands it back to him with a small, close-lipped smile. She nods at him to read the message.

to my first fan, 

i still love you too. 

xxx-xxx-xxxx

yours, 

noelle

He looks up, eyes shining but a bit confused. 

“I never blocked you. I just changed my number.”

“Oh.”

“And even if I still love you, I’m still mad at you.”

“I know. I’d be more surprised if you weren’t.”

She stands up, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and putting her sunglasses on. “Text me?”

His mouth splits wide into a grin. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

She backs away with one last attempt at a smile before turning down the street.

#k writes #hockey fanfiction #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #nhl writing #hockey blurb #hockey writing #boston bruins #jeremy swayman #jeremy swayman blurb #jeremy swayman writing #jeremy swayman fic #jeremy swayman fanfiction #jeremy swayman x ofc #jeremy swayman x oc #jeremy swayman x reader

[rebelwriter99]

Well those were some remarkably accurate predictions!

SPOILERS INCOMING! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Tantiss did get blown to bits. Everyone did escape. (Because they had to they hadn’t had a big win in more than an entire season to justify it!) And they DID make it an hour long episode! I was so relieved the second I saw the runtime.

But WOW were a lot of things a surprise. Nala Se doing what she did I feel like I should have seen coming. It was a fantastic character arc conclusion for her, especially that line about Kamino. Rampart being there I didn’t see coming, but also a very well earned conclusion for his character (if you’ll take my meaning).

Omega! Honestly the only predictable character on screen at this point. Except perhaps Echo. Of course she released the Zillo beast-that was set up really nicely. Everyone immediately knowing it was her was delightful and probably the only time I remember laughing all episode because boy was it heavy from there.

The Batch themselves and what happened to them were a huge shock all episode. Crosshair finally voicing what I’d known since S1 and became blindingly obvious post S2 was a fantastic moment. I’m so glad it got said out loud, and I’m so glad it was him that said it. They haven’t been Clone Force 99 since the end of S1 E1 and the loss of Crosshair to the Empire. Their success rate on missions has consistently dropped since then, even more so since the loss of Tech. They were a unit, and they’re missing pieces. They’ve never been whole since the fall of the republic, and then had to operate in a galaxy they weren’t trained for. They’re not the same anymore-they needed to own that.

The three heavy duty action scenes the batch were involved in were all callbacks to previous scenes. The hangar stand off-against what are essentially operatives designed to combat them specifically-is a call back to the first appearance of imperial cross. Crosshair sees the operatives and knows they can’t win. He’s unfortunately right. And wow I did not see Crosshair losing his shaking hand coming at all. I understand practically why the writers did it, and I know I’ll be thinking long and hard about it, but I literally screamed out loud when it happened.

I think all of the batch finally understanding and experiencing what Crosshair lived through was important. The batch met their match in Hemlock. Crosshair was never really an enemy in S1, and Rampart was too stupid. To Tarkin, they were a fly in the ointment of the bigger picture. It was nothing personal. He’s Echo and Rex and the rebellions problem-not theirs. But Hemlock? The experimental scientist who wants to own what they hold most dear. Yeah. They needed to really know him. I knew when Wrecker got injured last episode that if they won it would be by the skin of their teeth-and I don’t think a single character bar omega got out unscathed.

The batch’s rescue is perfect. Regs volunteering and going to rescue the defective clones? This really is a new galaxy. We’ve moved on from Cross and “he’s just another reg”. And it’s Omega and Echo returning the favour. The Batch have gone into a research facility to rescue their own and gotten captured for their trouble twice now. (Not including Echos rescue in clone wars-where they avoid capture but get a tad stuck). This was the third attempt in TBB. Still got captured. But it’s Echo and Omega together who get to rescue the people who got them out of their similarly horrible situations. The parallels abound and I loved it!

And that last confrontation. The rain? The shape of the buildings? That exposed platform? This was Kamino all over again. Except this time, however injured, however changed they are, Hunter and Crosshair are together. For Omega. They’ve both failed to stop her being taken by Hemlock before-they’ve both watched a ship fly away with her on board. This is another third attempt. They both get their do over. Except this time they’ve learned to trust eachother, and they’ve been forced to adapt. The clone’s humanity has always been their strength-and this is one of the most perfectly written, perfectly animated scenes in the series. I knew Cross was going to have to make a shot he didn’t want to take. And I knew he’d do it. But Omega telling him what to do, telling him she trusted him not to hurt her, broke me. It was all leading up to this. And that she hugged Cross first. I was crying before this scene. I will have to rewatch and hope I can actually see next time I was sobbing!

And Hemlock got his slightly gruesome end. Thank the FORCE.

And Pabu at the end. You can feel their disbelief that the trauma is over. That they can have peace. And the epilogue is perfect. I wish we’d got to see older cross and wrecker too-but their character arcs were already handled earlier. This is Hunters scene-it was always going to have to be. For him to truly be at peace, he has to feel OK watching her fly away. He’s spent three seasons clinging on-how he’s happy to let go. And Omega gets her choice. That precious thing all the clones are chasing. She got to have a childhood, grow up, and choose.

I’m so hopeful that Omega at least will reappear-especially if she’s hoping to join the rebellion! Maybe she’ll meet Hera again-that would be amazing. (I’m nothing if not a rebels fan)

I know Bad Batch is a series I’ll be coming back to again and again to rewatch, and I know I’ll see new things in it each and every time, but for now-Thank you Clone Force 99. You’ll always be our ‘dad batch’ of deviants. It was a wonderful wild ride.

#the bad batch #tbb spoilers #tbb season 3 #tbb s3 spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #the bad batch season three spoilers #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #force I love this story so much #I’ll have to come back and write some more when I don’t have 4 assignments I’ve been putting off! #star wars

[imeanitplsmorenamifics]

hi there!! i feel like work song is definitely a sanji song and i can imagine the yearning between him and the reader

Hi! Sorry for such a late response, I lost motivation again 😭 Work Song definitely feels like a Sanji song! I was so excited to write this prompt. Work Song is my favorite Hozier song ever! I hope you like this! A heads up for the live-action One Piece fans, this is based on the anime plotline. It is based around Skypiea (I just finished that arc actually!). You can find my Flower Asks here, Hozier Asks here, and my Taylor Swift Asks here (I have added TTPD to it now!). You can find my masterlist here and my rules here. And you can request here! Work Song: You're the only thing that keeps him going. Characters: Sanji, GN!Reader Pairings: Sanji x GN!Reader TW: None that I can think of!

Work Song

.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.

If there was one thing that everyone knew about Sanji, it was his love for cooking. Cooking was his safe place. You would always find him holed up in the kitchen, slaving away at whatever dish he was trying to make next that would blow the socks off anyone who tried it. It was the thing that he was good at. It was his passion. He cared about it more than anything in the whole world. But that wasn’t the only thing he cared about. There was something he cared about just as much or even more than cooking. That something was you.

Once Sanji met you, he had no idea how he went through life without you. It was like you suddenly became everything his world was. You were the air he breathed, the light to his cigarette, the heat to his stove, the ingredients to his cooking. You came into his life and became everything he could ever need. He found himself needing nothing else if he had you. You were everything to him. You were his reason for getting through the day.

He found himself thinking about you constantly. Your bright smile, your soft skin, your personality, your little jokes, your laugh. You overtook every single thought in his mind. There was not a single thing about you he didn’t love. You could tell him everything you hated about yourself and he would tell you every reason why he loved that part of you and more. You took him as he was. Sanji had no doubt made many mistakes in his past and, despite that, you still chose to love him like he did none of that. It was like you were from a dream. This man loved you like it was his passion. A passion that overtook even his passion for cooking. You were his main priority.

That’s why when he found out you were on Eneru’s ship with the god himself, all he could think about was getting you off that ship and as far away from the enemy as possible. He ignored his wounds from Eneru’s lightning, forced Usopp to get up and help him, and made sure that he used whatever resource he had necessary to save you. You were the only thing that he thought about. The only thought on his mind. The only safety he cared about was yours.

When he stayed behind to face off against Eneru by himself, he saw the look on your face as you fell off the ship with Usopp and the waver. He knew that you didn’t want to leave him there. He could hear your shouts at Usopp to let go of the waver and to go back up to the ship. But that was the last thing Sanji wanted you to do. He knew Usopp would do what Sanji wanted and keep you away from the fight.

And so, when he stared Eneru in the face again, he said one thing to him, “I don’t believe in God, you know. I doubt that I’d be going to any kind of heaven. But I don’t care because I have my own heaven, my own divine being. And that’s all I need.” Eneru had no idea what he was talking about. The god struck the man down with his lightning and as Sanji laid on the ground, burning and aching with the feeling of the lightning wreaking havoc through his body, there was one thought that was in his mind.

He knew he was going to make it out of this alive. Nothing could keep him away from you. If they buried him in the deepest grave man could possibly make, he would still find a way to claw his way out and drag himself back to your feet. That’s where he was supposed to be, where he needed to be. You were exactly where he was supposed to be.

#one piece #opla x reader #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece x reader #opla #opla sanji x reader #one piece headcanons #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #opla sanji #sanji #sanji vinsmoke x reader #hozier

[anim-ttrpgs]

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, and Themes of Disability, Mental Illness, and Criminality.

Back Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy on kickstarter before May 10th if you want to help a disabled person with limited ability to work pay his bills.

Verisimilitude, What Would a Person Do?

To understand Eureka’s themes regarding disability, mental illness, and criminality, you first have to understand its verisimilitude.

“Verisimilitude” is defined as “the appearance of being true or real,” and it is a big part of the core design ethos behind Eureka. It is a very realistic game.

We aren’t necessarily of the opinion that “realism” is a better design choice than stylization overall for RPGs, but it is a better design choice for Eureka, because we want the PCs to be very normal, believable people who make believable, organic decisions in extraordinary situations. No matter what anyone says, the mechanics of a TTRPG strongly influence what kind of stories are told with it, and what characters do in those stories. So if we want characters to make realistic decisions, the world they inhabit and interact with must be constructed of realistic rules.

Even though there is a small chance that they may be a supernatural creature, PCs in Eureka are still not fearless action heroes, chosen ones, or anything of the sort. They’re normal people with jobs, friends, and families who get mixed up in mysterious and/or dangerous situations, often against their will. They are fragile, vulnerable, imperfect, and they, largely, know it.

“Composure” is a mechanic that helps you know it too. I’ve given a deeper explanation of the Composure mechanic in the post linked here, but I’ll give a very very very condensed version in this post. Composure can sort of be thought of as “emotional/fatigue HP,” (and no, it is NOT “sanity”) it acts as a guideline for how well your character is handling the situation, and when it gets low enough, it starts to have serious mechanical effects as well, because a character’s stat modifier can never be higher than their current Composure level. Fear, hunger, and fatigue all lower Composure, and eating, sleeping, and bonding with one’s fellow investigators can all restore it, at least for normal people. More on that further down. All you really need to know for now is that when Composure gets below zero it starts eating into HP, so characters can even pass out or die from loss of Composure, and also one single bullet is enough to permanently cripple a character, and the rate of Composure loss during combat reflects how serious that is for the characters.

Grievous Wounds

It isn’t too uncommon for RPGs to have some sort of “flaw” system, whereby in character creation you can give your PC “flaws” or some kind of penalty, and usually get that balanced out by being able to add extra bonuses elsewhere, and these “flaws” may take the form of disabilities.

Critical Role’s Candela Obscura, the whole document of which is one of the most egregious examples of liberalism and toxic positivity I’ve ever seen in the TTRPG space, takes this beyond just character creation, and makes it so that if a PC receives a “scar” in combat that reduces their physical stats, their mental stats automatically go up by an equivalent amount, and proudly asserts that to make any mechanic which functions otherwise is ableist. I think you can probably tell what I think of that from this sentence alone and I don’t need to elaborate. Getting bogged down in all the failures, mechanical and moral, of Candela Obscura would make this post three times as long.

I actually do think that as long as you aren’t moralizing and patting yourself on the back this hard about it, “flaw” systems in character creation are a pretty good idea in most cases, it allows for more varied options during character creation, while preserving game balance between the PCs.

But in real life, people aren’t balanced. The events that left me injured and disabled didn’t make me smarter or better at anything—if anything, they probably made me stupider, considering the severity of the concussion! Some things happened to me, and now I’m worse. There’s no upside, I just have to keep going by trying harder with a less efficient body, and rely more on others in situations where I am no longer capable of perfect self-sufficiency.

Denying that a disabled person is, by definition, less capable of doing important tasks than the average person is to deny that they need help, and to deny that they need help is to enable a refusal to help.

This is the perspective from which Eureka’s Grievous Wounds mechanic was written.

When a character is reduced to 1 HP, which by design can result from a single hit from most weapons, they may become incapacitated, or they may take a Grievous Wound, which is a permanent injury with no stat benefits. Think twice before getting into a shootout.

Grievous Wounds don’t have to result from combat, they can also be given to a character during character creation, but not as a trade-off for an extra bonus.

“But then doesn’t my character just have worse stats than the rest of the party?” Yes, didn’t you read the above section? There is no benefit, except for the opportunity to play a disabled character in an TTRPG, and this character will probably have to be more reliant on the rest of the party to get by in various situations. Is that a bad thing?

Monsters

Just like mundane people in Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, monsters are playable, because they are regular people. I’ve gone over this in other posts and also you can just read about it in Chapter 8 of the Eureka rulebook, but the setting of Eureka doesn’t have a conspiracy or “masquerade” hiding or separating supernatural people from normal society. They exist within normal society, and a lot of them eat people.

Most RPGs consider monsters to just be evil, they do evil for evil’s sake. RPGs that seek to subvert this expectation often instead make monsters misunderstood and wrongfully persecuted, but harmless. Eureka takes a wholly different approach.

There are five playable types of monsters in the rulebook right now, and it’ll be seven if we hit all the stretch goals, but for simplicity’s sake this post will just focus on the vampire. Despite them applying in different ways, the same overall themes apply to nearly every monster, so if you get the themes for the vampire, you’ll get the gist of what Eureka is doing with monsters in general.

I mentioned Composure above, and how it can normally be restored by eating food and sleeping. Well, vampires can not restore their Composure this way. They don’t sleep, and normal people food might be tasty as long as it isn’t too heavily seasoned for them, but it doesn’t do anything for them nutritionally. Their main way to restore Composure is fresh living human blood, straight from the source. To do what mundane PCs do normally by just eating and sleeping, vampires have to take from another, whether they’re happy with this arrangement or not. They do not, of course, literally have to, and a player is not forced to make their vampire PC drink blood, just like you don’t literally have to eat food, but they do and you do if you want to live in any degree of comfort or happiness, or else they’d eventually just sit at 0 Composure and not be able to effectively do anything.

There’s a reason that this is a numerical mechanic and not simply a rule that says something like “this character is a vampire and therefore they must drink blood once every session,” and that is to emphasize and demonstrate that the circumstances a person faces drive their behavior. In America, there is a tendency to think of criminality and harmfulness as resulting from something of an intrinsic evil, but in my experience and observation, people do not just wake up at like age 16 and decide “I think I’ll go down the criminal life path.” Through their life circumstances they have been barred from the opportunities that would have given them other options. People need food, food costs money, money requires work, work requires getting hired, but getting hired requires a nearby job opening, an education, an impressive resume, nice clean clothes, a charismatic attitude, consistent transportation, and so on. For people without, criminality is something they are funneled into, which becomes harder to avoid the longer they go without consistent access to their basic needs. The choice will be between taking money from others by force or trickery, or running completely out of money.

As the Composure counter ticks down, a vampire, or other playable monster, is going to encounter much the same dilemma. There is little to no “legal” or “harmless” way for them to get their needs met, even if they do have some money. Society just isn’t set up for that. And no your kink is not the solution to this, trying to suggest every vampire get into sex work is like one step removed from telling every girl she should just get an OnlyFans the minute she turns 18, or that women should just marry a man and be a housewife that gets taken care of if they want their needs met.

Playable monsters in Eureka are dangerous, harmful people. They were set up to be.

“Oh well then the vampire should just eat bad people!” You mean those same bad people i just described above? See this post for answers to all the other arguments people are going to make to try and absolve vampires of causing harm.

Society not being set up for that brings me to next reading/theme: Monstrousness as disability, and monsters as takers.

Mundane human characters restore 2 points of Composure per day just by eating food and sleeping, but vampires do not, they can’t. To restore their Composure they have to take from others a valuable resource that everyone needs to live and the extraction of which is excruciatingly painful and debilitating (blood). No one knows what happens to blood after a vampire drinks it, it’s just gone. Vampires are open wounds through which blood pours out of the universe.

This is a special need, something they have to take but cannot give back. Their special needs make them literally a drain on society and the world.

Even in so-called “progressive” spaces, there is a tendency to consider takers, people who take much more than they give back, such as disabled people, as something that needs to be pruned, with the mask over this being the aforementioned total denial of the fact that disabled people take more than they can give.

In this way, vampires and other playable monsters are, inarguably, “takers,” but in positioning them as protagonists right beside mundane protagonists, Eureka puts you in their shoes, and forces you to at least reckon with the circumstances that make them this way, as well as acknowledge their inner lives. You have to acknowledge two things: That they are dangerous, harmful people who take more than they can give, and that they are people. Because they are people, Eureka asserts that they have inherent value, a right to exist, and a right to do what they need to do to exist.

One final point is that of monstrousness as mental illness. Mental illness is a disability, one pretty comparable to physical disability in a lot of ways, so all of the above about disability can apply to this metaphor as well, but there are a few unique comparisons to make here.

It’s not the most efficient, but there are a couple of loopholes deliberately left in the rules that allow vampires to restore Composure without drinking blood. Eureka! moments can restore Composure, and Comfort checks from fellow investigators can restore Composure.

When I was writing the rules for how monsters regain Composure in accordance to these themes, I came to a dilemma where I wasn’t sure if it was thematically appropriate for them to be able to regain Composure in these ways, but ultimately I decided that yes, they can. It works with themes of mental illness, which is mental disability.

People with mental illnesses may have the potential to be harmful and dangerous, but study after study, including my own observation, has shown that mentally ill people with robust support structures and agency allowed to them to handle tasks are much less likely to enact harm, be that physical violence, relational violence, or violence against the self. So that’s why I kept that rule in for playable monsters. Being able to accomplish goals, and having friends who are there for them, makes the harmful person less likely to cause unnecessary harm.

I couldn’t really figure out where to fit this paragraph in so I’m sticking it here right before the conclusion: Vampires are especially great for this because they’re immortal, and because they always come back when “killed.” They can’t be exterminated, they aren’t going away, there will always be problem people in society, no matter how utopian or “progressive.” They’re a never-ending curse, who will always be a problem. The question is how you will handle them, not how you will get rid of them.

In conclusion,

Eureka is as much a study of the characters themselves as it is the mystery being solved by the characters. It is a harsh, but compassionate game, that argues through its own gameplay that yes, people do have needs which drive their behavior, many people do have special needs that are beyond their ability to reciprocate, and failure to meet the needs of even a small number of people in a society has high potential to harm the entire society, not just those individuals whose needs are unmet.

And Candela Obscura sucks.

Back Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy on kickstarter before May 10th if you want to help a disabled person with limited ability to work pay his bills.

If you want to try before you buy, you can download a free demo of the prerelease version from our website or our itch.io page!

If you’re interested in a more updated and improved version of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy than the free demo you got from our website, subscribe to our Patreon where we frequently roll our new updates for the prerelease version!

You can also support us on Ko-fi, or by checking out our merchandise!

Join our TTRPG Book Club At the time of writng this, Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is the current game being played in the book club, and anyone who wants to participate in discussion, but can’t afford to make a contribution, will be given the most updated prerelease version for free! Plus it’s just a great place to discuss and play new TTRPGs you might not be able to otherwise!

We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.

#disability #disability rights #disabled #leftism #critical role #candela obscura #eureka #eureka: investigative urban fantasy #ttrpg #rpg #roleplaying #tabletop #monsters #accesibility #blindness #autism spectrum disorder #autism awareness #autism acceptance #neurodivergent #adhd #ttrpgs #ttrpg community #ttrpg tumblr #indie ttrpg #dnd 5e #d&d 5e #vampirism #vampire #progressivism #lgbt art

[waterberry-strawmelon]

just gonna go ahead and say this in advance—

if Riz does indeed come out in junior year, and he says, “I’m ace” or “I’m asexual” when referring specifically to his lack of romantic attraction, aromantic people are allowed to be upset about it.

#because yes of course some people irl say ace to mean both bc that’s how they personally identify #but in fictional media the distinction is necessary. especially with how few canonically aromantic characters even exist in ANY mainstream/ #popular media. #I assure you I’m not invalidating anyone who is ace and they mean that to include lack of romantic attraction. #But to look at this from a MEDIA PERSPECTIVE its irresponsible to do this w/out clarification that they also know the word aromantic exists #because otherwise that’s just a conflation of asexual and aromantic without any nuance #and an erasure of aromantic people who are not asexual. #Plus—name a single fucking time a character in mainstream/popular media has said the word aromantic. #Because I can name several instances where they say asexual. But I can’t think of ONE where they say aro or aromantic. #(Maybe that Isaac kid does in season 2 of Heartstopper? But I haven’t seen it so I’m not 100% sure.) #anyways. #the way this fucking fandom—and ANY fandom with a canon aro character—discusses the aromantic spectrum #is blatantly just to remove their own personal guilt for shipping that character with other characters and erasing their orientation. #because yes aromanticism IS a spectrum!! But when people talk about fabriz and say ‘he can still be ace!’ (Which is aro erasure) or #‘he can still be aro!’ They never SHOW riz still being aro or having any kind of complex relationship with romance. #I’m angry and I’m allowed to be. #I get that a ship you liked may be hard to let go of or something #But I’d be much less mad if all the fabriz fans said ‘yeah I know Riz is aro in canon and he and Fabian would never get together. #I just like to imagine it sometimes in fiction/fanon!’ Then that would be a WHOLE different conversation #Because then they’d at least be acknowledging that riz doesn’t feel romance in canon. That fabriz is something that actively #Goes against the canon characterization of one of those characters—and that’s fine. Just fucking ACKNOWLEDGE IT. #But most of these people either WANT fabriz to be canon/believe it WILL BE canon #OR I guess feel uncomfortable confronting the fact that they ARE erasing riz’s aromanticism so they don’t even acknowledge it at all. #fhjy #fantasy high #d20 #dimension 20 #riz gukgak #aromantic riz gukgak #fhsy

[jayteacups]

‘if your (y/n) is someone the reader can't relate to it's not x reader’ OKAY so friendly reminder that the human race is all very vastly different in terms of background, personalities and physical appearance and that creating a reader insert character that encompasses every single individual person ever is impossible, but sure, bland unseasoned readers are the way to go 🙄

#if you think i relate to every single reader character that i read or even write you need to think again #sometimes i self insert bc it’s fun for me that way. even if the people who read it don’t relate to me or my personality #sometimes i don’t because the request or plotline doesn’t work if i write an exact copy of myself #but that doesn’t mean that it isn’t an x reader #it’s so clear that the person who began all the discourse last night isn’t a writer #because if they were they would know this #i’m tired #tw discourse #jayteacups rambles

[dontbotherwiththepronunciation]

The narrative didn't doom me, it just ditched me

Warning: There will be mentions of upsetting content like sexual abuse, bullying, xenophobia and manipulation. It won't get graphic and it won't be discussed in-depth but it will be mentioned.

I've been thinking a lot about my attachment to Jeyne Poole and I think I cracked the code or at least I’m cracking the code.

So, requirements to become a "The narrative didn't doom me, it just ditched me" character:

Involve some sort of metanarrative irony, can be intentional or accidental

Being archetypal to a secondary or tertiary character, but written with depth or relevance to the story

Becoming obsolete. Be it by an adaptation, the narrative, or the fandom's perception. This person doesn't matter.

I listed four examples under the readmore

Wakaba Shinohara

(look at me, a non-practicing pseudo-intellectual talking about RGU)

Mother of all mothers! She is the blueprint!

She is the only secondary character who doesn’t appear on the opening of the show. She is average looking to the point you could pass her as a background character compared to all the other prominent characters in the story, as a student she is average, she has no special abilities or talents and the nicest and most personal compliment she gets is Utena (Wakaba's best friend, but not a feeling that is reciprocated) telling her she'd make a good housewife.

She has an entire episode dedicated to the Angst of being a satellite character and even after that episode which shows the tragedy of her story being a sideline, she remains in that sideline.

Wakaba's only sense of self value comes from her being close to the people the narrative deems as more special and since Utena has been distancing herself a little from her because she is growing closer to Anthy, being suddenly able to keep bad boy renegade (actually cringe fail loser) Saionji dependant on her transforms her into a protagonist. Suddenly she is the one being called pretty by Utena, she is getting better grades, she is being above average. She has something that makes her special!

The saddest thing is that she had already been pivotal to Utena's narrative development. During episode 12 she is the one who triggers Utena into reclaiming her Princehood and duelling Touga, but she is not capable of seeing that as something she can call her own.

And then during the masterpiece that is "Wakaba Flourishing" we see her confronting those insecurities and feelings of inferiority once she realises Saionji will leave her too and discard her!

She duels Utena, intends to kill Anthy, who se believes is the one behind her losing Utena and Saionji's attentions, loses to the protagonist who loves her, but not enough to make her become special too...and then....

Wakaba goes back to her dorm room, now empty of Saionji who no longer needs to live at her place, and we viewers are destroyed.

She returns to her cheery, poppy, apparently happy-go-lucky self, but we know what lurks inside her.

It's funny because the narrative likes playing with her. On the one hand she is special! She is the one who gets Utena out of her depression in episode 12 and she is the one who saves Utena & Anthy at their escape in the movie. But then again, there is only one episode centred on her, right? And that episode ends once Saionji leaves her. She loses the spotlight as soon as a more relevant character distances themselves from her.

The fact she hasn't appeared in any of the post-show/movie mangas, while other show-only characters have, is heartbreaking and hilarious.

Sorry Wakaba, you are lovely but you don't make the cut, go listen to some Penelope Scott, her lyrics are a bit curt, but still, it couldn't hurt.

Heather Matarazzo in her iconic role as Dawn Wiener

Beloved...

Dawn Wiener is the main character of Todd Solondz “Welcome to the Dollhouse”, although if compared to most coming-of-age protagonists, she is quite depressing.

At school she is bullied, at home she is neglected, she has no friends, talents, or self esteem and the few times she stands up for herself things backfire. She is not always loveable either. Dawn feels dangerously envious to her little sister Missy, who is everything Dawn is not; beloved and beautiful.

As we see her grow up in the movie, we come to the realisation that, it doesn’t matter how much she tries, things won’t get better for her.

Dawn Wiener ends her introduction movie as a perpetual loser who has somewhat decided to conform to her place as an underdog who will never find acceptance among her family or peers, partially because of her looks, which are seen by most as ugly. It's more one of the first scenes in the movie has a young girl bullying Dawn in the bathroom and when Dawns asks her why, the girls responds "Because you are ugly."

In the spin off movie "Palindromes" it is revealed that her adulthood wasn't much more different. She went to college, gained weight and acne and killed herself after becoming pregnant by date rape.

The entire motif of Solondz cinema can be explained within the lines spoken by one of his characters at the end of the movie:

"No one ever changes. They think that they do, but they don't. If you are the depressed type now, that's the way you'll always be. If you're the mindless happy type now, that's the way you'll be when you grow up."

Surprisingly in another spin-off of "Welcome to the Dollhouse", "Wiener Dog", Dawn finds a happy ending. She has a stable and enjoyable job as a veterinary and is rekindling a relationship with her love interest from "Welcome to the Dollhouse", Brandon. Their last scene shows them happily talking about their future while holding hands.

So it probably sounds weird whenever I say this is a much sadder and depressing ending than the one where she commits suicide.

And I stand by that, because there is a fundamental change in "Wiener Dog".

Dawn's actress, Heather Matarazzo, has been recast by a more conventional-looking actress who is much more fitting into the female ideas of beauty Dawn was told she could never become. If anything, her new actress looks more similar to Dawn's little sister.

The fact that Matarazzo wasn't informed of this, and only came to find out that her most iconic character was now being portrayed by conventionally attractive and successful Greta Gerwig through Twitter, while she was struggling to find roles that actually allowed her to act instead of just being cast as a insulting comedic archetype, like the abhorrent admirer, is the final gut punch. She felt deeply hurt.

Also, just wanna add, the entire movie (Welcome to the Dollhouse) is on YouTube for free but it’s a VERY upsetting movie. It’s hyperbolic in its dark comedy without being edgy, and it is uncomfortable because somehow it still manages to be cruelly realistic in its themes of bullying and abuse. I’ve only watched it two times and, now that my depression has gotten stronger than ever, I sure won’t watch it again.

Jeyne Poole

♪ A terrible mistaaaaaaake was made... ♫ I love that song for her because it fits her in and outside the story.

On a meta-level, I think she is the most tragic because it's accidental. The two former examples were written and portrayed with the intention of making us feel their tragedy. This is not poor Jeyne Poole's case. I genuinely get anxious when thinking about her or how she is treated by fandom because her case is real. She is one of those things that make me worry Solondz might be right in his cynical views of the world.

She is a book character so I can't put pictures of her without stealing art but also this entire thing is about characters being treated like shit by the narrative in order to drive a point, so hahah Jeyne! You don't get a picture! (But you get links because I love some people's art (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) and I'd feel too bad about being mean to her)

The show played a lot with my hopes involving her. She appears in one episode only and has no lines. Later on she is mentioned by name by Sansa Stark, a main/POV character who is a friend of hers and who she considers to be more beautiful. After that we never hear of her again.

This could have worked, had the show stayed loyal to the source material.

In the fifth book of the series, it is revealed to the readers that she is being passed off as the daughter of an important House, Arya Stark, so she can marry the future lord Paramount who is a sadistic monster. Her new husband abuses her terribly and while there are a few political factions opposing her husband, who intend on liberating her, this is only because they think she is Arya Stark, since no one would care for her misfortune if they knew who she truly is.

Jeyne Poole, a character who is deemed as "not important of risking your life for" gets someone to risk his life and, more importantly, his skin in order to save her! Not Arya, Jeyne! Theon, former childhood co-habitant now turned into co-victim co-perpetrator, saves her. The show adaptation decided she was not important enough to appear in the story, and replaced her with Sansa Stark, a main character the audience already felt attached to, who was from a nobler house and considered to be more beautiful. Jeyne's plot was given to the girl she sees herself as inferior to in the books. Her plot was deemed important, her impact was deemed important, but Jeyne herself was not.

She is tragic, there is a reason she is here too, but at least in the story she still has a chance at happiness. In the fandom though...yeah, she lost the war, even worst there wasn't a war. Look at the number of fanworks tagged as ASOIAF involving the Sansa-Theon-Ramsay constellation, compare it to the number of fanworks tagged as ASOIAF involving the Jeyne-Theon-Ramsay constellation and you'll find evidence to that. It gets even funnier when the show constellation and plot line stays intact in fanfics, but she is still added in order to transform her back into Sansa's token best friend with no political relevance and no connection to Theon or Ramsay.

The books' author, GRRM, spoke about being upset by the change done on the show, but in truth I don't have many hopes for Jeyne Poole and considering how he is a slow writer and I am very ill person, I doubt I'll get to witness Jeyne P managing to escape this list.

Sorry Jeyne, you weren't doomed, just ditched. Sucks to be you I guess.

Areida

The least tragic in story and development, but still someone who (sadly) deserves to be here.

She is a book character and given how this book doesn't have much of a fandom there isn't any official art of her, but I like these: (1) (2)

Similarly to Jeyne, she suffered in the adaptation, but then again, who doesn't?

Her book counterpart was given a more in depth characterisation. She was an immigrant, came from a poor background, spoke with a strong accent and was described in a manner resembling someone of African ancestry (dark skin, box braids). In the movie it is implied she might be from another country or ethnia, she is played by an Indian actress, but her accent is gone, her hair is straight and we don't get any characterisation or background on her. Her friendship with Ella is downplayed and Ella only starts her quest after being forced to tell her she can't be friends with her anymore and making a xenophobic comment. In the book, Ella parts on her quest so as not to have to obey and break their friendship and that conversation doesn't take place. In the books, Areida's pain matters and it is Ella's unwillingness to hurt her that sends her to search for Lucinda, the fairy who gave her the gift of obedience, so she can remove the curse and won't be forced to ruin her friendship with Areida and cause her more distress. She runs away from finishing school before she can break Areida's heart. And even after their separation, Ella still thinks of Areida with an endearing fondness and tells her future love interest, Prince Char, about her.

In the movie, there is an emphasis in showing Ella's pain and their reconciliation isn't shown, but we are supposed to assume they did have a reconciliation because Areida is seen at Ella and Char's wedding. Areida is reduced to become an unconditional sidekick whose feelings aren't important in the grand scheme of things. We don't see her break down crying after hearing her supposed best friend make a xenophobic comment about her, not how lonely she must have felt afterwards, nor how their conversation once reunited went. She is only Ella's friend, not her own character.

The irony, Ella's quest being triggered by Areida's feelings is turned into Ella's quest being triggered by Ella's feelings because neither the audience, nor the narrative, nor the people making the movie care about Areida's feelings, something the novel has been trying to portray as wrong multiple times.

The adaptation of Ella Enchanted (which I only watched two days ago because of curiosity and oh god why did they whitewash Char??? WHY IS LUCINDA A RACIAL STEREOTYPE???? No wonder my parents didn't let me watch Disney movies! they suck!) was so different from the book that talking about them as one almost feels wrong. Had they gone to claim the book was the inspiration behind this movie, that would have been alright, but as an adaptation, it's quite horrendous. I can understand why they made the changes they made, but given how the movie has overshadowed the book in popular culture, and thus it is Movie!Areida who people might remember, I still have to let her stay here.

So, yeah...I think this is it. It's the irony and the pain behind the irony. Yeah...

#anthy himemiya is kind of the anti-character to this because she was doomed by the narrative until SHE DITCHED THE NARRATIVE #amazing I love that for her #Vale hasn't read Ella Enchanted and Tânia doesn't like Solondz (honestly good call. based) #So I don’t know a single person who knows all these characters so this is kind of pointless #but sometimes this type of stuff is at the very least distracting #speaking #fandom related #the narrative didn't doom me it just ditched me #Wakaba shinohara #revolutionary girl utena #welcome to the dollhouse #todd solondz #jeyne poole #asoiaf #Ella enchanted #Gail Carson levine #literature #Spotify

[danidoesathing]

am i the only one who feels like alex(the world ender guy) was kind of a missed oportunity in vide noir? like, he was set up by johnnie to be a badass gang leader just for him to never even appear in the end, we just got a close up to his face scar

i feel like buck's encounter with the psychic would've been way more powerful if it was alex instead. its implied that johnnie and moonbeam had a relationship ig, but its barely even hinted at, and he never even mentions her. but with johnnie and alex, johnnie actually mentions him and speaks highly of his brother, and says alex will help buck if he sees the red cloth that belonged to johnnie

the fact that all that build up led to buck not even TALKING to alex kinda irks me. imagine how much better the payoff would be if alex had received the cloth instead of moonbeam? if we had seen his reaction to johnnie's death? if he would've helped buck like johnnie said he would? if we saw what johnnie implied alex would do to the guys who black brained his brother? idk man i think we were robbed

im new to the fanbase, so im gonna be very embarassed if this is a topic that already came up here LOLL but i still wanted to get it off my chest💀sry if this ask is messy, i suck at writing down my thoughts lmao

No I gotta agree on that. Like I LOVED seeing Moonbeam and getting know her as her and having all this new information about her (her being part of the World Enders is still wild to me and I love it) and it’s a good scene and all, but I’m still confused as to why they built up Alex so much, especially since this is the first time we’re hearing about him, and he never even got the chance to speak. If it were Dale I’d be a bit more understanding as we know him already (tho not by much cause I would have loved to see more of Dale). But it’s Alex, whose not only the leader of the World Enders but also Johnnie’s (and Dale’s) brother. I would’ve have loved to, you know, actually meet the guy. Especially with how much build up he got. And I GET IT Lord Huron’s lore is meant to be weird and vague and hard to pin down but like. Didn’t need to tease me like that come on

The only reason I could think of was maybe they needed to get Buck on his own again? Like having this the beginning of a war between the World Enders and Z’Oieasu shown or having Buck work with them consistently might have thrown off the tone. It is supposed to be Buck’s story and his own descent into madness. The whole album has this isolated vibe to me, like being alone in a city of people Hard to get that when there’s other people around, especially a group as lively as the world enders. Or maybe they just wanted to include Moonbeam back into the story again lol

GOD I would have loved to see Moonbeam’s scene with Buck done with Alex. I can only imagine how that scene would’ve played out and his reaction to Johnnie’s death. Contrasting Buck’s scene with Johnnie with Alex’s own personality, the possible dynamics, the anger and grief that could arise…..ough

#thanks anon now you’ve given me the urge to write that scene. how am I supposed to do a character that doesn’t even have A SINGLE LINE /lh #I’m already struggling to characterize Dale how am I supposed to do Alex. why would you do this to me /lh #seriously tho I wish we got more of Alex. or anything or Alex tbh #I wanna know more about him #Alex Redmayne who are you….. #it’s also possible they were originally going to include a scene with him but it got cut/changed for whatever reason #tho honestly I think moonbeam was always gonna come back into the story in some sense due to the song #my own personal theory (thanks to the clip in POTU) is that Buck and Moonbeam were supposed to have something going on but it got cut #mostly cause the dynamic in the clip is way different from the one they’ve got in the movie #but idk I’m glad they didn’t force a romance at least. imo they didn’t really have romantic chemistry in that second scene. at all #whether that’s due to rewrites or just a decision to cut it I don’t know. I don’t think it would’ve fit the story anyway #i could be wrong tho so take my theorizing with a grain of salt #however it is very funny that one character with a love song that has all the hallmark’s of Buck’s writing isn’t probably done by him lol #esp since he’s got chemistry with the other characters. women hate him ghosts want him /j #dani speaks #ask #asks #lord huron

[brookheimer]

……starting to think a lot of you do not know what the word empathetic means

#i have a lot to say about this but it is going to have to wait a few days until i’m no longer up to my ears in work #but here’s a little thing to tide you over: empathy does not a good person make #a capacity for empathy is in no way a capacity let alone willingness for good #empathy and intense horrendous cruelty are not mutually exclusive #if you think that evil comes in a single form if you think evil is just pure callousness coldness spot-it-a-mile-away inability to love #then no fucking wonder people keep doing evil terrible things like in real life and your response is always ?! W hat ?! #shocking: terrible evil people are still people. they are not robots of pure malice. they were once babies with coloring books #that’s not saying we should feel bad for them or anything at all!!! just that you guys seem allergic to acknowledging that it doesn’t take a #category 5 sociopath to commit an atrocity #everyone go read arendt’s banality of evil and go watch act of killing by joshua oppenheimer #no wonder trump keeps winning. y’all don’t view his supporters as people with any qualities other than Racism #like i know this is a fictional character but the response here is so indicative of this much broader issue that makes me want to scream #i get it. you’ve lived in a bubble your whole life and never interacted with people vastly different from yourself and had to acknowledge #their personhood as much as their viewpoints disgusted you. talk to a conservative once in your life it might be mind blowing #not bc you’ll be like WOAH :o THEYRE NOT SO BAD AFTER ALL! no!!!!! because they ARE that bad and they are also regular normal people!!!!! #you are all so incapable of viewing anyone you dislike as having internal lives! christ! #this is how trump won! how do you not see this! #seriously go watch act of killing go watch anwar who murdered hundreds of people in cold blood warmly scold his grandchild for poking a duck #too hard. like the most horrifying part of horrible ppl who commit atrocities is that they aren’t caricatures of evil #we wish they were it would make it easier to understand #agh i’m rambling i’ll shut up #god watch ppl be like Uh why are you defending trump/genocide/fascists etc #dumb fucks i’m telling you the most terrifying part about those people is that they are actually people that’s what makes it so hard to #comprehend bc atrocities are so much easier to swallow when you can pretend a force of pure evil is behind it #okokokok good night lol

[imidori-ya]

Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros is literal hot garbage and I will die on this hill.

#like it’s literally one of the worst constructed/written books I have ever encountered #how on earth could Yarros be married to a 20+ year military vet and yet still not even understand the most basic military concepts #it’s honestly astounding how brain dead her characters are #the way she writes makes it abundantly obvious that she thinks her readers are a bunch of idiots #who need every single story theme and element hand fed to them #the introduction of Varrish was just utter bullshit #she could have painted ‘VILLAIN’ on his forehead and it would’ve been less obvious #please tell us again how smart your main character is while she proceeds to do the dumbest shit I’ve ever seen #‘oh why won’t xaden trust me with rebellion secrets even though I basically announce my suspicions of the empire at every turn?’ #idk violet maybe it’s bc you won’t do the mind training they’ve been telling you to do #so you’re constantly vulnerable to the mindreader YOU KNOW PERSONALLY #maybe that’s why no one tells you anything??? #also holy shit her being like ‘I have to be careful and not let the empire know I’m questioning my duties’ #and then immediately crashing into a scribe meeting to request more red flag reading?? #like??? was she kicked in the head??? #also the dragons stating multiple times that humans are basically like ants to them and they don’t care if they live or die #but simultaneously having to somehow be subserveant to the military???? #bitch why weren’t you all enslaved by the dragons #this is such nonsense #also her prose is ass #come back when you can tell the difference between parse and parcel Rebecca #yeah a lot of my complaints are iron flame related #but that’s just bc it really hit home how bad this all is with the second book #net zero improvement #way to fail downwards Rebecca #ALSO!! what evil empire would conscript their enemies children into the one branch of their military where they get DRAGONS and SUPERPOWERS #like what??!! #in what world #what military would be so afraid of a new rebellion that they conscript the people with deep emotional ties to the old rebellion??? #if real militaries worked this way there would be no more war bc we’d all be dead

[x-rds]

[Lio] the way I’m like this 👌 close at all times to coming out as plural online

#liolog #=testing the waters by posting ‘personal OCs’ who all have the gimmick of ‘wowww they aren’t part of any specific story #so they can do anything! wow!’ #=hanging out with my fursona for some reason? sure! #=some of them randomly resembling characters I like? it’s called inspiration obviously! #=listen there’s a furry artist we follow who is significantly popular #=and they have like #=at minimum three OCs very clearly based on one ffxiv character to the point that their names are all similar too #=and people don’t give a single shit #=is that person plural? idk. but like. you know? just. literally whatever #=any emotional baggage with our ex(es) aside they did the same thing #=fictives in their system had art posted online as ‘OCs’ who looked incredibly similar to extant characters with similar names #=and it’s like. ok. at worst sometimes someone goes ‘lol they look like (source)’ to which the most logical reply is #=‘yeah I like that character I’m glad you recognize the influence’ #=obviously sometimes you have to stretch a bit if you’re a fictive with a very canon compliant appearance but like. #=it doesn’t even need to be that different. #=also if someone comments the above you can just be like #=‘yeah I was RPing that character but now they’re so developed they feel different and I am turning my interpretation into an OC’ #=a myriad of options for not exposing yourself lol #=anyways I just. I got tired of not being able to post system shit. so I’m going to make it everyone’s problem now

[meat-loving-meat]

Just finished The Book Eaters by Sunyi Dean for a book club and it was. Fine? I guess? Legitimately the most 🤷 book ever. It wasn’t bad at all—I actually thought that the writing style was pretty appealing—it just didn’t compel me

#to give you an idea of how ‘meh’ this book is: it has women who kiss in a gay way and I STILL don’t care that much about it #the main character (Devon) was pretty cool I guess but she committed the number 1 woman character sin #(the number 1 sin is that her entire motivation for every single one of her actions is her children. No internal motivators at all) #(tbf that’s selling the narrative short a little. I think an integral part of her character is how desperation has erased a lot of her #individuality and how she can’t explore herself because of her forced marriages and her children) #the book eaters #I also thought that Cai was a pretty weak character. Like intellectually I know that his character is inconsistent intentionally #bc of his mind eating #but it was a lot harder to get invested in his character when his personality kept flip flopping around #again I know that the inconsistency is on purpose and there’s a rhyme and a reason #this is more of a structural critique #ALSO Hester and Devon had 0 (zero) chemistry beyond their first meeting. Zilch. Nada. #normally I’m team ‘they looked at each other therefore they are in love’ when it comes to ladies in fiction but damn #their romance was such a flop #they didn’t flirt. they barely quipped. there was very little yearning #also it just felt inconsistent from a character standpoint for Devon #you’re telling me that Devon #who famously does everything in her power to protect her children #is taking the time DURING AN ACTIVE FIREFIGHT THAT DIRECTLY ENDANGERS HER SON to kiss Hester? bullshit #also the setting is just so batshit that I can’t decide if I love it or hate it #On one hand. I LOVE weird speculative fiction with bizarre premises #but something about this one felt so. meh #the premise isn’t as refined and mature as the tone of the book #I can’t believe I just critiqued a book for its premise. I shouldn’t be allowed to review a book ever again #anyway. maybe more thoughts later #book eaters spoilers #book thoughts

[crystallinestars]

Taking Care of Them

Short scenarios about Argenti, Aventurine, and Jing Yuan receiving much-needed care and comfort from you. Pure fluff, a little hurt/comfort for Aventurine's part.

I took some creative liberties with Aventurine's character since we still don't know everything about him yet, so this is simply my interpretation of him.

This isn't proofread because my brain is fried from writing.

--------------------

🌹 Argenti:

As a Knight of Beauty, Argenti is a highly skilled fighter who puts his very life on the line to vanquish his foes. Usually, he defeats his enemies with grace and style, but even the refined Argenti sometimes sustains injuries.

In his most recent battle, Argenti made it out practically unscathed, save for a few scrapes and bruises that marred his handsome face. That was how he found himself obediently sitting on your bed while you treated his wounds.

“I apologize that you have to see me in this state,” he murmurs, guilt darkening his expression. “I did not want to cause you worry.”

“No need to apologize,” you brush off his concerns with a smile. “Now turn this way. I’ll clean the scratch on your cheek,” you said as you gently turn Argenti’s face to one side to reveal the shallow, red gash on his cheek.

Argenti complies without hesitance and sits perfectly still as you dab at the scratch with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol. It stings, but the Knight of Beauty unflinchingly tolerates the burn with a small smile on his face.

He can tell through the delicate and careful way you clean and dress his wounds that you care a great deal about him. Your touches were gentle so as to not cause him unnecessary pain, yet no less thorough. It felt nice to be touched so tenderly, to be cared for in such a loving manner.

Your heart is beautiful, he thinks. To possess such a caring and loving heart, you must rival the beauty of his beloved Aeon Idrila. Argenti truly believes that you are a wonderful and beautiful person, both inside and out.

As you finish patching up the last wound and pack away your first aid kit, Argenti turns to you and gives you a radiant, sincere smile from the heart.

“Thank you…” he softly says as gently takes one of your hands and kisses the back of it, “You have a dazzling heart—so pure and gentle. I feel like the luckiest man in the universe to have the privilege of receiving your care and affection.”

His words may sound over-the-top and perhaps even fake, but he truly means them. Every single one. Even if you don’t entirely believe him, the amused smile that his flamboyant phrases elicit out of you is all the reason he needs to keep them up.

“You’re welcome. Just try to be more careful next time. I’ll love you no matter how you look, but I hate seeing you hurt,” you murmur in reply and lean in to kiss the band-aid on his cheek.

“There. A kiss to make it all better,” you giggle as you pull away.

The little gesture catches Argenti by surprise, but he can’t say he didn’t like it. In fact, he enjoyed it more than he ever thought he would.

With a small chuckle, he pulls you close to kiss you fully on the lips. If you don’t take his word for it that he feels incredibly lucky to have your love, then perhaps his actions will convey the sincerity of his feelings for you.

🃏 Aventurine:

All his life, Aventurine has faced hate. Hate for being Sigonian, hate for being a dog of the IPC, hate for acting exactly the way that’s expected of his kind. He played into people’s perceptions of him. Why waste time trying to correct their views when they won’t change? It’s easier to just act according to their expectations and hide who he really is behind this playful and sly mask.

Only with you does he let his carefully crafted façade crumble to reveal his vulnerable self.

Aventurine is very good at acting like everything is fine when the world is against him. Perhaps to an extent, he truly believes that life is all about fighting battles on his lonesome. He can use others and get used as a tool in return, but the only one he can trust is himself. It’s the only life he’s ever known.

However, you’ve known him long enough to tell that the hate and isolation get to him, no matter how much he pretends that they don’t. When he comes home one night after a particularly awful day, it doesn’t take long for you to figure out that he feels down.

Aventurine smiled and teased you like usual, but he spoke less and clung to you more than usual. He hugged you from behind and kept an arm around you no matter what you were trying to do, almost as if he was seeking comfort from your physical presence.

Turning to face him, you glance into his tired eyes.

“What is it, darling? See something you like?” he teased, the corner of his mouth tugging into a smirk.

“Hmm, no,” you hummed. Extending your arms forward, you wrapped them around Aventurine and slowly pulled him into a hug. “I don’t see something I like.”

Aventurine is momentarily stunned by your unprompted action, but he quickly recovers.

“Oh? How come? Am I not appealing enough for you?” he quipped, resting his chin on your shoulder and returning your hug. Unlike your tight hug, his arms wrapped around you in a loose hold, as if he was uncertain how to go about it.

“Quite the opposite,” you softly chuckle, “I don’t see something I like, but I do see someone I love,” you whisper and turn your head to look directly at Aventurine’s face.

A beat of silence passes as Aventurine processes your words, before bursting out laughing.

“That was painfully corny, even for you!” he chuckled.

You scoff but don’t say anything in response, simply continuing to hug him tightly. Slowly, carefully, you card your fingers through his blond hair before moving lower to stroke your palm along his spine in soothing circles.

Aventurine’s laughter dies down, his initial mirth now replaced with something fragile and vulnerable as he falls quiet. He won’t ever share what burdens him, but you don’t need to know the details to provide him comfort. If he doesn’t want to tell you, then you won’t pry. At the very least, you’ll do all you can to support him and remind him that he’s not alone.

Being wrapped up in your warm embrace, feeling your gentle caresses—it all felt unfamiliar to Aventurine. It’s been so long since he felt the tender and loving affection of another person. It took a while, but eventually he relaxed and allowed himself to lean into your body, burying his nose into the crook of your neck.

Silence lingered in the air, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. There was something soothing in not having to talk. It was freeing to not worry about pretending to be okay or be pressured to talk about the things that trouble him.

That hug—that simple act of human affection—made him feel safe and protected in your arms. When you leaned back slightly to plant a tender kiss on Aventurine’s forehead, something inside him snapped and he had to hold back tears. Burying his face deeper into the crook of your neck, he clung tightly to you while you continued to rub slow circles along his back.

“It’s okay. It’ll all be okay, I’m here. You’re not alone…” you whisper, hugging him tighter.

Being wrapped up in your warm hug, feeling your affectionate kisses and gentle words is something Aventurine never knew he needed until now. Just for this moment, he lets his walls come down and bares his wounded self to you with the hope that you can soothe his pain if only a little.

And you do. With whispered reassurances and loving caresses, you ease his hurt, even if just temporarily. He is safe, you promise. He will always be safe in your arms.

🦁 Jing Yuan:

Jing Yuan is notorious for disliking the abundance of paperwork and other leadership tasks he has to take care of on a day-to-day basis as a General of the Xianzhou Luofu. Despite his woeful sighs about how tedious it is, and how the work never seems to end, Jing Yuan still accomplishes all his duties in a timely and precise fashion.

Jing Yuan is a hard worker, you are well aware of that. Which is why when he snuck out of the Seat of Divine Foresight to come spend some free time with you, you offered him to rest on your lap. And who was he to turn down such a tempting opportunity?

Sitting outside on the veranda with Jing Yuan’s head resting on your lap, you softly ran your fingers through his fluffy, white hair, marveling at how silky it was. It was as soft as it looked.

“I could get used to this,” Jing Yuan said with a sigh, relaxing into our touch. His golden eyes were closed as he enjoyed the sensations of your fingers combing through his hair, gently massaging his scalp and soothing any tension he felt.

Chuckling, you looked down at him, mirth dancing in your eyes.

“Really? I wouldn’t mind having you as my lap cat like this more often. Why not come see me every day and get pets?” you tease him as you lightly poke his cheek.

Jing Yuan cracks open one eye to give you an amused look.

“Being your lap cat sounds like a wonderful idea,” he sighs, “Laying on your lap and getting pampered sounds like my ideal life.”

Both of you burst out laughing at the ridiculous notion of Jing Yuan being a lap cat, your spirits lifting as the mood brightened even more.

“Ah, but if you ever want to take a break and relax, you’re always welcome to see me,” you say in a softer voice this time, resuming running your fingers through his tresses.

“I’ll keep your invitation in mind,” he replied, his voice dropping an octave as he relaxed into your touch once more.

The minutes pass in a comfortable and serene atmosphere, with you pampering Jing Yuan with affectionate caresses, meanwhile, the man listens to you talk about your day. You both knew that after this he would have to go back and complete the mountain of work waiting for him, but for now, you were content to spend this little bit of time with your beloved.

Under the warm sun and gentle breeze, with his head resting comfortably on your lap, Jing Yuan felt himself growing drowsy. His eyelids became heavier, and his body didn’t want to move from his position on your lap.

Noticing the General grow sleepy, you fought the urge to tease him. If you pointed out his sleepiness, he would most likely apologize and put a stop to this tranquil moment by getting up and heading back to work. He already saw you less than either of you wanted, simply because work kept him busy. Moments like these were a luxury.

Keeping quiet, you gently massage his scalp until his breaths even out and become deeper, seeming to have fallen asleep. His expression looked so serene and vulnerable, something that very few people have had the chance to witness. As his lover, you were privy to this sight more than most. You watch over him with a small smile on your face, gently tucking away a stray strand of his hair.

Thinking he was asleep, you lean down to press a lingering kiss to his forehead, but as you straighten, you notice Jing Yuan peering up at you with an amused glint in his eyes.

Growing flustered, you quickly look away, feeling your cheeks heat up with a blush.

Jing Yuan only laughs in response, but his laughter quickly turns into a contented purr as you shut him up with another head massage. Whatever teasing remark he had prepared, immediately died on his tongue as relaxation washed over him and he felt sleep take hold of his mind again.

“It’s ok, take a nap. I’ll wake you up in a few minutes,” you murmur, willing Jing Yuan to finally get some rest. You could tell he wanted to protest, but with a light brush of your thumbs over his temples, he released a sigh of defeat and conceded.

“You certainly know how to take advantage of my weaknesses,” he chuckled, voice a little hoarse from drowsiness.

Despite his initial reluctance, Jing Yuan fell asleep fairly quickly. The continuous days of endless work had left him exhausted, but your tender pampering and sweet company were just the respite he needed.

“Sleep tight,” you whisper, gracing him with another sweet kiss on his forehead.

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #argenti x reader #hsr argenti x reader #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #jing yuan x reader #I just want to hug Aventurine and protect him from the world #even though he'll be the one protecting me once I pull him lol

[jellys-compendium]

Red Handed

A König x f!Reader Oneshot

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Summary: After your poor performance on one of your squad's training exercises, you've been punished by fulfilling laundry duty for the entire facility for a month. It's a thankless job, but maybe it will help you figure out who the hell has been stealing your panties. Cw: smut (pwp), mutual pining, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, panty kink, panty sniffing, pet names, size difference/size kink, mask kink, semi-public sex, masturbation, mutual pining, König is a bit of a pervert but he's also awkward, shy and sweet and eats pussy like a champ. Word Count: 3k A/n: This fic is for a dear friend of mine. I hope you enjoy it!

It’s 5:12 AM on a quiet Sunday morning, and mostly everyone in the compound is fast asleep.

Normally, you would be too. But rather than enjoying that sweet extra few hours to sleep in on the one day you have off, you instead find yourself with your teeth grit and cursing under your breath as you haul the last enormous load of laundry into the KorTac facility’s laundry room. 

“This is your punishment,” Your superior officer’s words replay in your mind like a broken record. 

“For your abysmal performance in the last training exercise, you’ll be assigned laundry duty for the entire facility for the month.”

Sheesh, what an asshole. While you understand that this is how it goes in any military faction, it’s not like the man had to assign you to laundry duty for the whole damn month. 

Your comrades had of course taken full advantage of the situation, flinging their dirty socks and other unmentionables at you with childish glee as you passed by their bunks with the laundry bin. Of course, you had returned every little quip with one of your own.

“Thanks mom!”

“No problem, least favorite child.”

“Can you get my boxers smelling like roses when you’re done? My girlfriend would love that.”

“Sure, but I don’t think your hand is all that picky.” 

The banter had been amicably scathing for the most part, but admittedly there had been some days where the teasing had frayed your nerves. Unfortunately, that group of lovable meatheads really struggled on picking up on when you’ve had enough. Luckily for you, on those days salvation had come in the form of one very unlikely character.

König. The charmingly awkward 6ft10 giant that could snap a man’s spine over his knee without breaking a sweat.

“That’s enough teasing from you all. Let her do her job in peace.”

As you load the huge pile of laundry into the washing machines, your mind begins its usual circling around thoughts of König. You like him. A lot.

You’ve liked him from the moment you first laid eyes on him nearly a year ago. There’s just something about his dorky personality, coupled with his awkward charm and humongous presence that makes your heart pound excitedly in your chest. Absolutely every single person in the facility knows about your crush too. Well… everyone except König. 

König is a bit of a weird and mysterious person. Sometimes he does and says things that don’t really make a lot of sense. You’ve also come to discover that König is pretty secretive about his past, never giving anyone too many details about where he comes from or who he really is. 

But the strangest thing about König is that he always has his face covered, even when he’s off duty. As the two of you developed a closer friendship over time, you’d mustered the courage to ask him about the mask one day, but König had simply let out a nervous little laugh and said,

“Ah. I’m sorry, I’m just a bit shy, häschen.”

Also, yes, häschen. The huge Austrian man you had a not so secret crush on had given you an affectionate little nickname. A nickname that he only used whenever the two of you were alone.

“You’re always so busy and energetic! Like a cu—ah—clever little rabbit, ja?”

Your heart squeezes in your chest. God, you are so down bad for that man. Too bad that when it comes to your feelings, König is about as perceptive as a bag full of hammers. You can’t quite figure out if he genuinely is that oblivious to your advances or if it’s his way of letting you down gently. For fear of it being the latter, you had decided to not push it and see where things go.

Still, that doesn’t mean you’re not secretly sinking your fingers into your pussy every other night, his name a silent whisper on your lips and his innocent little nickname an echo in your brain.

Häschen.

A tremor travels up your spine, and your thighs squeeze together as a rush of heat courses through your body. Right. Ignoring that. 

Refocusing on your task, you finish filling up one of the many washing machines, slide out the tray, and pour in the detergent and softener before setting it to cycle. Then, you proceed to fill in the next one and the next until finally you get to your own pile of laundry.

As you start to sort your clothes, you realize that you’re running low on underwear again. It’s so weird.

In the last few months you’d noticed that some of your panties had gone missing. Originally you’d thought that it was just a fluke—maybe one of your not so perceptive comrades accidentally dropping one or two behind the machines? But since you yourself had taken over laundry duty, you realized that this isn’t the case. Another pair had gone missing and from right under your nose. 

You had been especially annoyed when you discovered that it was your favorite comfy but lacy little pair too. Either this is a joke in poor taste, or you have a pervert on your hands. Regardless of which one it is, it’s the last thing you need right now.

Sighing, you reach down and are about to finish filling up the last drum with your dirty clothes when you realize that you had forgotten to add one of your favorite hoodies to the pile.

“Shit.” You whisper under your breath. It’s going to be a bit of a trek to head back to your room and get it, but you really love that hoodie and the thought of being wrapped all nice and warm in it once it’s out of the dryer is too enticing to ignore.

Leaving your laundry to sit in the open machine, you make your way back through the dimly lit hallways of the KorTac training facility. It’s too early for even your superiors to be up, so you’re not that worried about being caught padding through the hallways with bare feet and without your uniform.

As you pass by König’s room, your eyes can’t help but linger on the door. He hasn’t come back from his contract yet. It’s been almost two weeks since you’ve seen him and you miss the big guy. 

Even though König hasn’t shown any signs that he’s interested in you beyond being just friends, you still miss seeing him in the mornings. Exchanging some amicable and encouraging words before heading off to your first drill is one of the highlights of your day. Maybe he’s not into you, or maybe he’s just that shy. König’s true intentions are really just as mysterious as the face he hides.

Finally reaching your room, you make a grab for the hoodie that you’ve forgotten at the foot of your bed. Once you have it safely tucked under your arm, you quietly slip back out into the hallway and jog back towards the laundry room. You’d prefer to have your laundry duty done before your comrades wake up and start harassing you for clean clothes.

You slow your gait as you reach the laundry room, but as you silently reach for the door you detect the softest little sound resonating from behind the door.

Is someone there? Seriously, at five in the morning? But then strikes you. Maybe this is the culprit behind your missing panties!

‘Caught you red handed you, jerk.’ You think as you slowly wrap your fingers around the doorknob and turn it. Once the latch is free, you silently push it open just a crack and peek inside. What you see has your jaw nearly hitting the floor.

It’s…König. 

Your eyes sweep across König’s unmistakable, enormous frame as he leans over the washing machine you had left open, his mask pushed up to the bridge of his nose, giving you a teasing glimpse of his lips, chin, and jaw as he presses a bundled wad of red fabric against his face.

Wait…holy shit are those your fucking panties?

A deep groan escapes König’s lips, his huge body tensing as his left hand travels down. You nearly choke on your own spit when he starts to palm at the raging hard on pressing severely against his fly.

Whoa…is that a third leg in his pants or…

Your eyes are glued to König’s hand as it travels up and down his clothed length, his body shudders gorgeously as he moves back to lean against one of the dryers. The sight of the pink swipe of his tongue darting out to lick at your panties has you practically gushing between your legs.

Then, another soft sound, this time a desperate little groan of your name wisps through the air as König’s hips start to roll against his hand. The tiniest little wet spot forms on his pants where the head of his cock rests. 

“You taste so good, mein häschen.”

Then, his thick fingers move towards his belt.

Oh.

You bite your lip, debating on what you should do. The intoxicating thrill that bubbles in your tummy at the thought of watching König stroke his cock to the scent of your pussy is outrageously tempting. But…this is a messy situation. You really shouldn’t be spying on him. But then again, he really shouldn’t be stealing your panties and using them to jerk off.

Fuck. But König wants you too, doesn’t he? He’s pent up and desperate, straining against his pants and you can help him with that. 

Stealing your resolve, you drop your hoodie, enter the laundry room and then slowly close and lock the door behind you. 

Another hot groan escapes König’s mouth. He opens his eyes, those blue pools all glassy and love drunk until they fall on you. The moment his brain registers that you’re in the room with him, König’s entire body jolts as if he’d been hooked up to a car battery.

“Scheisse!”

The mountainous man drops your panties like they’d bitten him, his mask falling back into place as his blue eyes widen into saucers filled to the brim with panic. 

“Ah—uh—G-guten morgen! I s-see that you’re still on laundry duty.” 

König hips shift. He’s clearly trying to hide the massive tree trunk in his pants from your line of sight. A cheeky little grin spreads across your lips. 

‘Yeah, good luck with that, big boy.’

“I am.” You confirm, making your way towards him. König’s eyes follow you like a hawk, the subtle quick rise and fall of his chest the only sign that he’s still flustered. 

Stopping at the discarded panties on the floor, you reach down and pluck them between your fingers. The dark, wet stripe of where König’s tongue had been is clear for you both to see. The heat that pools in your gut as a response nearly has you jumping the man’s bones.

“What were you doing with my panties?” You softly ask, your gaze meeting König’s before lowering down to his cock.

The man freezes up like a statue.

“I—uh—I…”

He’s speechless, and you’re going to take advantage of that. Stepping forward, you close the distance between yourself and König. Once you’re close enough, you place your hand on the throbbing dick trapped in his pants.

König inhales sharply, steading himself against the dryer with his powerful hands. The wet little patch on his pants grows, and you feel him shyly push his cock against your hand just a little bit harder.

Cute.

Licking your lips, you start to palm him, the heat and size of König’s cock makes your heart race and your pussy throb. Being this close to him, you realize that the tip of your head barely even reaches the height of his clavicle. 

Fuck, he’s so huge and powerful. This man could absolutely bend you into whatever shape he wants. You’ve seen him in action many times before and you know full well that König is not a force to be messed with. And yet here he is, complete and total putty in your hands.

Then with a coquettish little wink, you reach for König’s pocket and slowly stuff your panties inside. 

“You know,” You whisper. “If you want to lick my pussy, König, all you have to do is ask.”

Before you even realize that’s happening, König’s massive arms encircle your waist and haul you into the air with absolutely no effort at all. 

Gasping in surprise, your breath is stolen from your lungs as König turns you both around, and after another quick flurry of movement you find yourself pinned against the top of one of the dryers. Pinned, secured, and at the utter mercy of König’s incredible strength.

Your pussy practically weeps.

“Can I then?”

You try and catch your breath, eyes locking with König’s blue ones. You realize that König no longer has a look of startled panic. Instead, those eyes of his are hooded, lust filled, and they are staring directly at you.

“W-what?” 

König’s scorching fingers brush against the band of your pajama shorts, teasingly grazing the sensitive skin of your navel.

“Can I eat your cunt, leibling?”

You shudder, heat pooling between your thighs at the hungry growl following König’s words.

“Yes.”

Your shorts and panties are off you faster than you can blink. And you watch—totally breathless—as König lifts his mask up just enough to reveal his mouth before diving his lips and tongue between the folds of your pussy.

Your body arches, crying out softly as König’s stubbled chin and cheeks scratch pleasurably against your skin. His tongue immediately flexes then flicks against your clit before diving back down to your entrance to lap at your taste.

“Fuck,” König groans sensually, his hands snaking around your hips to grip and pull you closer—burying his face deeper into you. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you.”

You gasp as König’s fingers dig roughly into your flesh, his hot moans vibrating against your clit. Your hips will be decorated with bruises later no doubt, and that thought makes you purr with unabashed ecstasy.

“M-more!” You beg, your hips rutting against König’s mouth. “König, please don’t stop.”

“You want more?” König hums. “Gut. I’ll give you more.”

Those blue eyes flash to yours, and your pussy practically melts as he dives back down to tongue at your cunt—but not before giving you a little cheeky grin first.

God, he’s such a dork. An adorable, massive dork. And you are so head over heels for him.

Your thoughts scatter as König sucks and licks and laps at your flesh. His lips circling and sucking at your clit, his tongue caressing your folds, his breath hot as he whispers hushed praise against your skin in his native language. He feels so good. 

And you want to touch him. You’re so desperate to touch him. But you have to admit, there is something so incredibly sexy about having a man—this man—go down on you while he’s wearing his mask. You don’t even know what he really looks like, but at this moment you realize that you don’t even care.

“König,” You pant, thighs trembling as you get closer to your climax.

“Mmm. You’re close, leibling.”

A statement, not a question.

“Y-yes.” You keen, arching up as he circles your clit once more.

König groans then sucks at your clit, rolling the engorged bud against his tongue as his right hand comes up to your cunt. You groan as he works to drench his fingers with the slick between your folds.

“Need to have something inside you, ja?” He probes your entrance with his thick fingers. “Want to squeeze down on me as you come?”

“Please!” You cry out, eyes squeezing shut as that powerful wave of pleasure crests—on the verge of crashing and pulsing through your body like a storm.

“Yes! König, pleeeease!”

And as König’s sinks two of his thick fingers inside you, you feel him smile against your cunt.

“That’s my good girl. Come on my fingers, häschen.”

König pumps his thick digits deeper inside you, stroking along your walls and lapping at your clit with such force that your body has no choice but to succumb to your orgasm with a ferocity that has you seeing stars. 

Your release rips a high pitched cry from your throat as your back arches and you writhe against König’s hands and mouth. You can faintly hear him curse under his breath, moaning brokenly as he pulls his fingers out of your pussy and laps up every drop of your release like a man starved. 

“That’s it.” He whispers with reverence. “So pretty when you come in my hands, leibling.”

König takes his time helping you ride out your high, his mouth not leaving you until the last of your pleased little shivers leaves your body. Then, he pulls away, licking his lips as he lets his mask fall back down again.

“König,” You mewl, the thrumming pleasure in your body still burning strong as you reach for the front of his pants. 

“I want your cock.”

The massive man groans, his blue eyes shutting tight in an effort to restrain himself. You palm at him, desperately wanting to feel the weight of his body on yours. You want to know what it feels like to be filled up to the brim with him.

But König shakes his head.

“We’ll have time for that later.”

“But—”

The feeling of König’s fingers pressing up against your pussy once more interrupts your sentence.

“You’re very small here, leibling.” König coos. “We’ll have to take our time preparing you to take my cock.”

A debaucherous little shudder courses through your body at his words. Patience is a virtue they say. But right now, it feels a little more like torture. 

You’re about to argue with König, when suddenly a resounding knock bangs against the laundry room’s door. Your bodies freeze like a deer in headlights as you both hear one of your superiors angrily calling your name. 

“Hey! Are you in there? What is this hoodie doing out here and why is the door locked? Open this door immediately!”

You and König stare at one another.

Shit. Caught red handed for the second time today. 

divider source

#call of duty #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #konig #konig x reader #konig x you #konig call of duty #konig smut #cod smut #jellywrites

[bluexiao]

#“is this… a love bite, darling?”

—you have a hickey… or is it really?

CHARACTERS. Al-Haitham, Ayato, Childe, Kaeya, Kazuha, Tighnari, Wanderer/Scaramouche, Xiao

THEMES. mostly crack, slightly suggestive, fluff (mentions of scenting on Tighnari’s but it’s for the laughs anyway); has a few curses here and there

NOTES. I’M BACK !!! haven’t written this much for… weeks? i think it’s been a month or two. i hope i did not rusted out but hey enjoy~ also, happy birthday ayato yay

XIAO knew very well that he had mostly been absent these days–actually, for most of the days. It is true, but he did try to give you as much time as he could whilst not overlooking his duty to Liyue.

This time, you tried to play a prank on him (well, you did miss him a lot), and it was a suggestion from your friend… yep, it is certainly not the boss of your Yaksha’s god who is probably now awaiting for the news of how your lover will react on that small mark on your neck.

“What is the meaning of this?” his voice looms over all of a sudden.

“Xiao!” You jump for a second, surprised at how fast he had gotten in the room when you had just barely uttered his name aloud. Your surprise strengthens even more as his spear falls to the side and he steps forward to your form, eyes trained on your neck, with a hand raising carefully-

“What… happened to your…” he trails off, raising his eyes to meet yours, “why are you hurt? Did… did someone do this to you?”

You could tell that he was this close to speed off to try and find anyone who could have possibly caused such a mark in your (delicate) skin—ah!

“N-no, I mean… I just…” you bit your lip, I just scratched it… a bit too much, I suppose,” you then took his raised hand (that was too fearful to even touch you), and smiled gently his way. “Don’t worry about it too much, love.”

The tension on his shoulders ease up, but you could tell he was still worried with the frown on his lips and the concern in his eyes.

“I see… should I ask for an ointment? Yes, I probably should… I’ll be back in a moment.”

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

The WANDERER’s eyes immediately zero into your neck.

Was he forgetting something?

Did something happen last night??

Did he perhaps accidentally do something that-

“Hey, what’s on your mind, love?” you’d try to get him to spit it out-but nope, he wouldn’t say a single thing about it.

You’d probably think he was all jealous and shit, but this prick actually misunderstood it!

“No, it’s nothing,” he hurriedly dismisses you, looking away with a small blush on his cheeks, “it’s just… do you not have a scarf?! It’s cold nowadays. Can’t have you sneezing right in front of my face.”

He immediately tries to get a hold of a scarf—no matter whose it is.

“But it’s not cold in Sumeru at all!”

“Oh, is it? Then still wear it. The sun might damage your skin, can't have you complaining about it.”

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

TIGHNARI, for one, is naturally someone who does not shy away when words need to be said. A very straightforward one, you need not be told as you already knew very much. So when the time came that you suddenly had a mark on your neck (that you did not know where it came from) and it looks very much like a love bite that someone would give to a person they like, he was already by your side in a heartbeat.

“Hm, I do not think I quite recall giving such a mark on you, darling,” he’d whisper next to your ear as he so nonchalantly brushes away the piece of clothing that tried to hide the mark—but it wasn’t enough, it appears… or so you made it to be.

“Nari, I-”

“Huh? What was that?” He’d cut you off purposefully, an arm around your waist. And all of a sudden, he was all over you, probably scenting you like a madman until he realizes it was all fake and he’d pretend nothing happened in the past few minutes when everyone and you saw how he reacted not too long ago.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

KAZUHA is a sly little piece of shit. He does not ask you anything about it until he gets close enough to examine them. Would very much know what you would think before you could even think about it (sometimes he has his friend, the wind, tell him about it, what a weirdo right), and he would call you out in a way that would not be too direct, sometimes, it would even take you a while to realize that he was trying to communicate to you something and he would just be very patient about it.

“Dove, I think you have something on your neck,” he’d probably say, and you’d stiffen as you thought he caught on to your act… but he’d just flash you a sweet smile as he raises… a leaf.

A fucking leaf.

Where in Teyvat did that even come from?!

“I suppose even nature loves the feeling of your skin, my love.”

Nope! He definitely has you all figured out and is just trying to make your skin crawl… well, two can play the game, right?

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

KAEYA would know what a love bite would look like, especially when it’s from him and on you.

And this one on you? Well, it doesn’t even look like a hickey.

Ah, he would think, he gets it now.

One look was all it took for him to find out, and one look was all it took for you to find out what was in his mind as well. With this, you would begin to think of ways to try and not let him get you alone, but you soon realized that even if you two were with friends or in a public setting, this man would not stop at anything… to tease you back.

“What is it, dear? Don’t tell me… you’re giving up now, are you? Come on, you have my whole attention. What is it that you want from me?”

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

CHILDE would also very much know what his hickey looks like—and this one is definitely not his!

Actually, he did not even notice just how much you botched this fake hickey because he was already marching his way toward you.

“Babe, you’re coming with me,” he thought he was smooth as he ushered you out of the Bank, his subordinates following your forms before whispering about the mark on your neck once you two were out of reach.

Oh, how many people you fooled that day.

“What is the meaning of thi—” he immediately stops on his tracks as he finally realizes once he was this close to you and once he had focused on how it doesn’t really look like a love bite at all and how idiotic he probably looks and sounds right now.

Your laugh suddenly resonates through the walls of his office, even playfully slapping his shoulder as he purses his lips into a pout and narrows his eyes at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I won this time, babe, sorry not sorry,” you flash him a grin and he could not help but melt at how angelic you look right now despite the looming defeat he had.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

AYATO was quite certain of his absence. It cannot be blamed on the nature of his position and his work, however, it was still irresponsible of him to neglect his lover. And thus, he was actually in the middle of a plan for his surprise for you a few days from now–to at least make it up for the lost time due to the work he had taken over these past few days.

At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him. Surely that mark on your neck, just a few inches below your jaw is not a love bite… right? He was fairly sure that he had been away for the past nights prior to tonight, so…

“My dear, do you not feel like your neck feels lonely these days?” he’d ask in a smooth voice, then pulling out a box behind him, revealing a gift that encased a gorgeous necklace that you were pretty sure cost a lot.

You failed to answer or say anything at all, baffled at how easily he had gotten you speechless and to forget about the prank you had set up for him–wait, has he not seen it yet? You’d question yourself, surely, he could have, right?

“So, would you like to explain to me why there is a fake love bite on your skin? Darling? Perhaps you’d like to see what a real one looks like.”

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

AL-HAITHAM is another self-aware man, at least, that’s what he thinks he is. If you had been with him for a long time or at the very least knew him as much, you would know just how much of a lie that is. After all, Al-Haitham is a very dense guy. He may be aware that he had been busy the past few days, but his thoughts do not wander toward how you might feel because of this.

“Is there… something I am missing?”

He asks with a tilt of his head to the side, probably looking at you up and down and… something just seems… odd.

“What?” You raised a brow as you felt your face heat up—did he see it? Questions rose to your mind as you can’t help but also feel embarrassed with what you’re doing right now.

He doesn’t notice it!?!

“Ugh, never mind!” You walk out of the room, and unbeknownst to you, he is mumbling on his own before he settles his eyes on his book once more.

“That mark… did I make that?”

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