#and i think it's such an important conversation about how we place so much pressure on these literal kids to know

[outsideratheart]

Happiness (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: This is the third and final part of History and Hope. I hope you enjoy!

It was hard being friends with Alexia but that is the situation you found yourself in. After her injury you forget all about the past because what she was going through was much more important. It resulted in multiple trains to Spain and in the end you were able to mend your friendship. 

But here’s the thing: could two people who once cared about each other unconditionally ever be just friends?

You were beginning to find out the answer to that the hard way. You loved Caroline and deep down you knew you loved alexia, it was a feeling that would never change. The question was which one were you in love with. 

The public hadn’t seen you and Alexia together since before her injury so when the footage of you two arriving together at camp was posted the entire Sefutbol fanbase lost their minds. It didn’t help that every comment was about how it reminded them of the past and how they suspected something was going on between the two of you even though you were still with Caroline. 

Caroline trusted you and she told you this but whenever you called her during camp she questioned the how deep your relationship with Alexia went. She knew of your past and you were honest with her when you spoke of the love you had for your former best friend and co captain. 

You reassured her that you and Alexia were friends and nothing more but you could tell that she didn’t believe you. For the past few of months you could use the fact Alexia had a girlfriend to back up your statement but now they had broken up. You were the person Alexia came to when it happened and Caroline hated that your bond had returned to its unbreakable state.  

You and Alexia were told you’d be roommates for the pre World Cup camp and for the tournament. It was something the two of you were both happy about because you knew the pressure you would be facing in the upcoming weeks and it would be each other that would  keep you sane. 

After a tense phone with Caroline you didn’t know how to feel. Photos had been released from training of you and Alexia and to the rest of the world the two of you looked very close but it was simply the way Spaniards acted around each other. 

“Is everything ok?” Alexia asked as she exited bathroom pretending to not have heard every word you said.  

“I think so” truth is you didn’t know “it’s hard trying to explain, well us”

“It is. That’s why my relationship ended” Alexia knew your struggles well. 

This isn’t something you knew. You wasn’t sure why they broke up, you never asked, but you didn’t for a second think it had something to do with you. 

“I’m sorry” 

“It wasn’t your fault. She knew that I still loved you” 

“Alexia”

“I know you’re with Caroline and I don’t want to jeopardise that but it is true. I do love you, part of me always will and she couldn’t understand that” 

This is why it was hard. Friends don’t say stuff like that to other friends. 

“I’m with Caroline, Alexia. We can’t have this conversation”

“But you admit there is something here, something that we can talk about”

“There’s nothing to talk about. We are in a good place and we need to keep it that way. There’s too much at stake” 

The pressure on the two of you was enormous. The entire world was watching and waiting in anticipation and you weren’t go to let your relationship current or what could have been ruin that. 

“I understand” 

And that was true. Alexia did understand because before you fell in love with each other, you fell in love with football and winning the World Cup was something you dreamed of doing when you made your debuts together. 

The team had a couple of days off between camp and travelling to New Zealand. You took the opportunity to go away with Caroline and it was just what the two of you needed. You could back up your words of reassurance with actions. By the time you boarded the plane to go to World Cup things couldn’t have been in a better place. 

Throughout the group stages you played some of the best football you had in a long while. Every one of your team mates said it was because you and Alexia were in the best place you had been in years. This was true and you knew it was a huge reason why the two of you had been performing like you had. 

Up until now you never had a thought of straying from your relationship or thinking about being with anyone but Caroline. This all changed after the quarter finals. You had scored the second goal and the only person you wanted to celebrate with was Alexia. 

“What just happened!” you shouted as you jumped into her arms. Alexia truly did plan on wrapping her arms around your back but the speed in which you jumped almost caused you to fall if not for Alexia’s hands on the bottom of your thighs. 

“You’ve just sent us to semi final” Alexia kisses your neck. 

The feeling of her lips against your bare skin had the power the teleport you to the night you shared your first kiss in Paris. Your surroundings became blurred for matter of seconds but that is enough to let your mind stray. In that moment you wanted to kiss Alexia, you wanted to cheat on your girlfriend. You hated yourself for it but it was feeling you could no longer deny.

A similar thing happens in the semi final only Alexia isn’t on the pitch for your game winning goal. This doesn’t stop you from celebrating though as you ignore all of you screaming team mates and run straight to where she is cheering on the bench. 

“That one was for you Ale” the nickname made a return, you didn’t dislike it and it wasn’t an accident.

Once again you are in her arms and you can feel her firm grasp on your waist. 

“Mi estrella” 

This time you kiss her cheek even though you know it’s wrong. You tell yourself it is innocent as it isn’t on the lips.

The final whistle blows and you fall to your knees. You were in shock knowing that Spain were through to the World Cup final. The whole team celebrates the achievement and as the team gathers in a circle you spot Alexia opposite you. This is what you have been working towards for years and now you only have one game left to play and one team left to beat. 

Just as you were about to go to Alexia you get pulled away by Olga and Athenea.

“Come with us MVP. We have a surprise for you” your Real Madrid team mates pull you through the tunnel.

With these two anything was possible so you keep an open mind. As you reach the end of the corridor you see the surprise they were referring to and she did not look happy although to anyone else her smile was believable.

“Caroline” you truly are happy to see your girlfriend and having her in front of you makes you forget all about Alexia. 

“Congratulations Y/N” she pulls you in her arms but her hold isn’t as strong as it normally is and you know that something is wrong.

“Thank you Carino” you lean forward to kiss her and are met with a battle for dominance, something with doesn’t normally happen.

“My girlfriend is through to the final” you are too focused on the kiss that just happened that you don’t pick up on the possessive tone that Caroline uses when she says the word mine.

“Let’s get out of here” you are still dressed in your kit although you had swapped shirts with Asllani.

“What about your team mates?” Caroline asks even though she wants nothing more than to have you to herself.

“I can celebrate with them later. I have missed you”

“Looks like it” She whispers under her breath but it is loud enough that you hear it.

Once in the locker room Alexia’s eyes search for you and she even goes back out to the pitch to see if you had stayed out there knowing that this is something you do. Even as she returns to the rowdy Spanish locker rooms she is almost certain that you would be in there by now, only you’re not.

Jenni asks her what’s wrong but she shakes it off.

“I was looking for Y/N but she must be doing media” Alexia says as it is the only explanation she can come up with.

“Y/N wasn’t needed for media. Salma did it instead” their media manager confirms.

Alexia was beginning to worry as to your whereabouts but Olga is quick to put her out of her misery even though what she says makes Alexia a lot more than miserable.

“Caroline came to surprise her“ Olga says.

“And we saw them leaving the stadium just as we came back here” Athenea adds.

The Catalonian was at a loss for words. Had she been reading the signals wrong?

“She did?” Esthers says excitedly “That’s nice. They really are inseparable in Madrid and I think I speak for everyone when I say we can tell Y/N has been missing Caroline”

The players that were listening to the conversation agree with the forward and every agreement made Alexia’s blood boil. It was enough to stop celebrating and leave the room in search of some alone time.

The pitch was the place Alexia thought would be the quietest and she was right. It’s funny how much bigger it felt when it was empty and silent. She took the time to go over the past couple of days and it made her come to the conclusion that she didn’t just love you, she was in love with you. So much that it scared her because you had the power to hurt her although part of her believed she deserved it.

“Here” 

The voice makes Alexia jump. She turns and finds Misa standing next to her with a beer in her hand.

“I don’t drink during tournaments, you know this”

“You’re going to need it for the conversation we are about to have and before you say you don’t want to talk about it you should know that you need to talk about it Alexia”

Whatever was going on between you and Alexia was enough to gain the attention of the goalkeeper. This alone filled Alexia with a little bit of hope.

“I’m in love with her Misa and I don’t know what to do. We have these moments and it gives me a sense of deja vu. I am transported back to 2019 where I wanted nothing more than to kiss her and ask to be mine. I want that, I want her” 

Misa isn’t the person Alexia thought she would be having this conversation with but the two of them had grew close over the past couple of weeks and it helped that she knew you very well. She would be able to give an insight as to how you may be feeling.

“That isn’t going to happen” Misa says before taking a huge mouthful of the ice cold beer in her hands.

“I know but I can’t lose hope. Without hope I have nothing. I won’t have her and I won’t be able to have the thought of us been together”

“I wasn’t finished. It isn’t go to happen right now. She is in a committed relationship and no way will she do to Caroline what you did to her. Her heart is too pure”

Deep down Alexia knew Misa was right. You never wanted to cause pain for anyone and you definitely wouldn’t do it to the woman you love.

“I know. I don’t know what to do” Alexia hangs her head in defeat but not before taking a sip of the drink she swore not to only minutes ago.

“Do you want my opinion?” Misa asks and Alexia nods but doesn’t make eye contact “I think you need to tell her how you feel and don’t hold back”

Alexia wasn’t sure if that is something she is capable off. If she tells you then she risks losing you all together and she couldn’t have that happen. The two of you were in a good place and she’ll be damned if she is the cause for that to change. She needed to the think or more appropriately not think and her team mates that were none the wiser to her feelings would be the perfect distraction or at least that is what she is hoping.

“Alexia” Misa shouts causing the midfielder to look back at her “For what it’s worth I think part of her feels the same way. Ever since arriving in New Zealand I have seen a side of Y/N that I haven’t seen before and I think you’re the reason for that”

When the team arrive back at the hotel they do so just in time to see Caroline leaving. Given the amount of Real Madrid players on the team, most of them stop to say hi but Alexia notices that you are nowhere in sight. Now is her chance. 

She gives up on waiting at the elevator and runs up the stairs two at a time. She is breathless when knocking on your door at a rapid pace. After thirty seconds she takes a short break before trying again. This morning she didn’t plan on having this conversation with you but now she wanted nothing more. She is determined not to admit defeat but her red knuckles beg her to do just that. Maybe you weren’t in the room. 

The team is gathered in the common room when Alexia enters but still you are not there. Her gut was telling her something was wrong and she never ignored her gut.

“Have any of you seen Y/N?” She asks the entire room hoping at least one person would know where you were.

“She is in her room” Jorge states and it makes Alexia take a step back in disbelief because it means you were ignoring her reluctant knocking “She told me that she isn’t feeling well so she won’t be down for team meal tonight”

“Ok, I will take a plate up to her if I can get a key” Alexia knew that if anyone had the power to get a key for your room it would be the coach.

“No Alexia. Y/N asked me to be left alone tonight and given that she has been our saving grace the past couple of games I am going to do as she asked and I’m going to make sure everyone else does too”

Alexia was confused. You were fine an our ago, what could have changed in such a small amount of time and why where you hell bent on being left alone. Being respectful to your wishes Alexia left you alone that night and instead would talk to you in the morning only she doesn’t get the chance because the next day you avoid her at all costs. 

You didn’t intend on hurting Alexia with your behaviour but it is what you needed to do to get through the next couple of days. There was a World Cup final to prepare for and you needed to have a clear head if you had any chance of winning. 

By the time the 20th August comes around you can count on one hand the amount of times you have spoken to Alexia and you would have fingers spare. You heart was all over the place but head was locked in on the task at hand and that is all that mattered or at least it was for the next 90 minutes which would then turn into 120 minutes because the score remained 0-0 after extra time. Like many other games, this one would be decided with penalties. 

“Y/N” Alexia grabbed your hand before the team walked to the half way line.

“Not now Alexia. I need to focus” you pull out of her grasp.

It all came down the 5th penalty. Both team have scored all penalties so far and given that Spain went second the pressure was fully on your shoulders as you were the fifth penalty taker. Misa hands you the ball but doesn’t say a word. Besides she knew that you wouldn’t hear a word she said anyways.

When you hit the ball you know you didn’t get it quite right. You always went for the side netting and you had a 100% success rate. You did until this moment because instead of hitting the netting the ball hits the post and rolls away form the goal. You had just missed and cost your team and country the title of World Cup champions.

You didn’t fall to the floor, nor did you walk back to your team mates. You stood in the same spot as if rooted to the ground. If you had to describe the way you were feeling you would use the word shock. How could you miss, this one out of them all. 

Misa the first person to enter you line of vision as she crouches down to reassure you that it was ok and that it wasn’t your fault but it was. You knew it and the rest of the world did too. The next thing you do it turn your emotions off, knowing that it was better to feel nothing at all. This did mean that you shut off the world around you. The sounds in the stadium became muffled as if you were under water and the presence of your team mates didn’t register.

“We are a team. Win or lose, we do so together” Alexia wraps her arms around your shoulder and tries to pull you close to her but it’s as if the contact burns and you recoil from her touch.

“I am the captain today, not you. I missed the penalty, not you. This is on me Alexia so don’t try and make this about you” 

“Y/N, that’s not what I’m doing” Alexia tries to reach out for you. She knows once you give up the urge to fight that you will need comfort.

“Why don’t you go to Jenni! It’s what you did after the last World Cup” your words were like venom and you spat them straight at her.

Alexia remained in her place even when watching you walk away, seeking comfort in your co captain at Real Madrid Ivana Andres. It was her side that you stood as you watched the other team lift the trophy. As soon as you were allowed to and when it respectful enough to do so, you left not only the pitch but the stadium.

The energy is the locker room was awful, it was as if somebody had died. To the outside world that might seem dramatic but losing a final had an effect that was hard to explain to those who had never experienced it. Some players were still crying, some had cried all the tears they had and others sat in silence still processing what just happened.

Ivana picked up on Alexia’s wandering eyes and it didn’t take a genius to realise what or who she was looking for.

“She’s left Alexia” This not only caught the attention of Alexia but the entire locker room “She said she needed to be alone and I couldn’t argue with her. The pressure she faced during this tournament is enough to crush some people and it seemed Caroline breaking up with her was the last straw”

“What did you just say?” Alexia wasn’t sure if she heard the defender correctly.

“The pressure was too much”

“No about Caroline”

“She broke up with Y/N. She didn’t tell me but I think it was the night of the semi final”

Selfishly Alexia wasn’t focused on the fact that you had been dumped. You were now single and now was the time for her to tell you how she really feels. Still, she is torn on what to do. She is a captain of this team and with you gone they need their other captain.

“Go” Misa tells her.

Alexia waits for someone, anyone, to disagree with the goalkeeper but nobody does and that’s enough for Alexia. She thinks fast. You wouldn’t go back to the hotel because that’s where the rest of the team will be very shortly. Australia isn’t a country you knew well so it did narrow it down a little bit. Alexia’s mind is blank until she remembers you posting almost identical photos to your instagram stories of a beach. You always loved the beach so it made sense that is where you would go.

She was right. As Alexia walks down the small hill that leads to the ocean she sees you sitting close to water with your knees pulled up to your chest. Even from a distance she can tell your crying by the way you body is moving.

“It’s all my fault Alexia” you don’t need to face the figure next to you to know who it is. She is the only one that would go against your wishes and truth is you had been hoping she would because in this moment she is the only person you want to see.

“No it’s—“ Alexia wanted to reassure you but the look she received from you told her that it was best not to finish that sentence. 

“It’s not only your fault” she corrects herself but didn’t quite have the affect she desired. 

“Alexia!” 

You fall back onto the sand and turn your focus onto the stars above you. With the ocean at your feet and the universe above you, you couldn’t help but feel small. 

“Spain is going to hate, the team will hate me and you will hate me. Please don’t hate me Alexia, anybody but you” it’s almost a plea. 

“Y/N I could never hate you. I love you” 

This confession had you sitting up right in a matter of seconds. 

“Alexia in a different life maybe we could be happy together but we are not meant to be in this one” 

“Why? I love you Y/N and I know part of you loves me too. I felt it in the quarter final and again in the semi final. Give me one good reason why?”

“We just aren’t. First I loved you and you didn’t love me, then you loved me and I loved Caroline and now you love me and I don’t love myself. Love should be this hard Alexia” 

Alexia had enough. She couldn’t understand why you were so adamant on standing in the way of what could be. 

“Love is hard Y/N but it is also the most rewarding thing in the world. We spend our whole lifetimes trying to find our soulmates. I found mine when I was 15 and it was you, that wasn’t hard” 

“Alexia I don’t know what you want from me. You’ve said this before and look what happened. I gave you my whole heart and you broke it like it was nothing. I don’t think I can do that again” 

“I want to tell you I am in love with you Y/N and I know I’ve hurt you before but that will never happen again. You deserve the world and I want to be the one to give you that” 

You didn’t know what to say but you knew what you wanted to do. You lean forward, cup Alexia’s cheek and kiss her softly. Never had a kiss felt so right, so good. You pull away knowing that maybe you shouldn’t have done what you just did. Alexia on the other hand didn’t share the same belief because that kiss was nowhere near enough for her. 

She leans forward but with enough force to knock you back. She now hovers above you waiting for your permission because in this moment you held all the cards. You reach up and kiss her only for Alexia to take over. You had never experienced a kiss filled with so much love and passion. You didn’t need to listen to what your head was telling you because your body make it crystal clear that you wanted Alexia.  

Her hands began to roam your body and found their way under your shirt. It was getting heated and knew where it was going. You also knew that this couldn’t happen on a beach in Australia. 

You push her off you but when you she the look of sheer panic in Alexia’s eyes you quickly peck her lips to reassure her this is not something you want to stop. 

“I love you Alexia and if I give you a chance, if I give you my heart again, then I need you to promise me that you’ll look after it” 

Alexia stands to her feet and holds her hands out to help to you up. Once at eye level she takes both of your hands in her own. 

“I promise Y/N. I will take care of you. I will protect your heart as if it was my own. I will love you with every fibre of my being. If you give me a chance, I promise I will never hurt you the way I did”

“Ok” your tone is quiet but the smile on your face is wide. 

“Ok?” Alexia asks as if needing a double confirmation. 

“Yes Alexia. I love you and I will give you another chance” 

Alexia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She really did think that the outcome of this conversation would be different but right now in the moment, even after losing the final, she has never been happier. You had given her the chance to rewrite a wrong from four years ago and she wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

#Alexia Putellas x reader #alexia putellas one shot #alexia putellas imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni one shot #Barcelona femeni imagine #espwnt x reader #espwnt imagine #espwnt one shot

[secretsofblackthornhall]

Ty to Dru

Hello Dru,

I’m back from London, and Julian and Emma told me to tell you “hello” and also “they send their love.” But that is not the important part of the letter, which is later. But you shouldn’t skip to that part, I will explain why soon.

Blackthorn Hall is actually pretty cool. It’s big and it’s old, and lots of parts don’t work properly yet, but Emma and Jules have done a lot to make it nice. There’s lots of bedrooms. I picked out one for me, which they called the “gray bedroom,” but honestly all the bedrooms are kind of gray. They said it’s so we can paint them if we want, they’ll be our rooms and we can decorate them how we like.

You’ll have to pick out the one you want when you visit, but I found one that I bet will be your favorite. It overlooks the gardens which I think will be the last thing to get fixed up, and so will continue to look creepy for a while. There are all these broken statues with plants grown over them, like they were trying to kill the statues. Like they succeeded in killing the statues. It looks like if you went walking down there the vines would wrap around you and pull you underground. You’ll love it. 

I didn’t sleep well before we traveled to London and now I think it was because I was worried. Anush says our bodies often tell us how we are feeling even when our minds aren’t conscious of it. Like feeling nauseated before an important test. You probably know what I mean.

But it was good. Especially to see Jules and Emma. I hadn’t realized how much I missed them until I saw them. I think I felt it like Anush says, like a weird pressure in my chest that went away when Jules hugged me. Maybe it’s the same for you. Or maybe you already know how much you miss them. Anyway I thought it was important to say I also miss you and it’ll be nice when we can all be in the same house together again. I think Irene will like it there too.

Ragnor’s map did actually help, so it was good he came. He found a couple of places in London to check for more of those cursed objects, so that’s one step closer to un-cursing the house. I know, it would be cool to live in a cursed house. But it wouldn’t be fair to Rupert the Ghost, since he’s trapped there because of the curse. And anyway there’s all this renovation work that the builders won’t do until the curse is lifted. And it would be good if the house’s roof didn’t leak. That might be a little too gloomy even for you.

Now we’ve talked about the bedrooms, the house, and Ragnor, so if anyone asks you can tell them those are the things we discussed. We are now at the part of the letter where I have to tell you important things but I wanted you to have information you could share in case someone asked you if you had heard from me. I mean, if someone important asks you. If someone we don’t know asks you, Anush says you can say “Make like a tree and leave,” which I don’t understand but he says will definitely work.

So, the important part. Rupert the Ghost. I wasn’t really thinking when I wrote up above that it will be nice for us to all be together. I mean, it will be, but it’s not quite that simple, at least for me. See…Rupert saw Livvy. She wasn’t hiding or anything, and she didn’t act surprised that he saw her. But I’ve spent so much time worried about other, you know, living people finding out about her. It hadn’t even occurred to me that of course there are ghosts everywhere, all over the world, and they’ll all know she’s there. The ghosts here at the Scholomance know about her, of course, but Edvard and Prudence keep to themselves and nobody really pays attention to either of them. Prudence is always in the library pretending to shelve books (or actually shelving ghost books, I can’t tell) and Edvard paces slowly through the halls and barely ever talks. Sometimes he moans, but that’s just him complaining.

Rupert and Livvy had a couple of conversations with just the two of them, I guess about ghost stuff. She says she made him promise that he wouldn’t say anything about seeing her, but ghosts can lie. So what if he says something to Emma or Julian? What if he can tell that something is weird with the way Livvy is a ghost and he mentions that?

The thing is, it’s not just Rupert. Even if he stays quiet, I already almost made Emma suspicious by talking to Livvy myself. I had to tell her I was talking to you on the phone. I know about Rupert and I know about Edvard and Prudence, but there could be ghosts anyplace I go, and if someone else is there and they start interacting with Livvy I’m going to have to explain. I got used to Edvard and Prudence ignoring her but Rupert drifted right into the bedroom and asked her who she was.

Livvy says I shouldn’t worry. She reminds me that any Shadowhunter can see ghosts who want to be seen, like Edvard and Prudence, but that it’s much harder to see a ghost who doesn’t want to be seen, and that’s most ghosts. She says Rupert wanted to be seen — first by Emma and Jules and then by Livvy and me, though only Livvy's seen him really clearly— but if he didn’t, I’d never have known he was there. She says she’s able to hide herself from almost all people (even Jace, and he has latent ghost-seeing powers), and even able to hide herself from a lot of ghosts. And that even if they do see her, they won’t necessarily know who she is, it’s not like ghosts can just identify each other. And she says if she has to, she’ll just lie to them.

She said a lot of reassuring things. But it still gave me a cold feeling, which I think is my body telling my brain that I’m afraid. If Julian and Emma found out about Livvy, they wouldn’t just be angry. They’d feel like they had to do something, like lay her to rest. People don’t think ghosts can be happy, but Livvy is happy. She helps me with work and she tells me advice for Anush (he has a crush on Rayan’s sister Nasha) and when we’re alone we play games or I read to her. She can’t do everything but why would being all the way dead be better? Everyone calls it “rest” but no one really knows, do they?

Maybe you have ideas. Tell me if you have ideas.

Love,

Tiberius

#sobh #ty blackthorn #dru blackthorn #rupert blackthorn #jace herondale #ghosts #livvy blackthorn #anush joshi

[poetry-protest-pornography]

These two continue to ask each other the most insanely intimate things while staring into each other's eyes, and it's bonkers

But this whole episode was just... one long conversation that answered Sailom's first question here:

"Do I have any influence over you?"

Now, ignoring the fact that this is handily answered by Kang's renewed interest in studying after the "Can you do this for me?" exchange in the pool (another totally normal and not at all insane conversation).

And then we see exactly how Kang's relationship with Sailom has influenced him (and, y'know, the whole "the windmill needs the wind" candlelit conversation, holy shit).

First, right after the question, Kang has an existential crisis and thinks about how Sailom has influenced him so far (pool scene included)

(There's also the whole study montage, which is gonna have to be its own post, but we see Kang be serious and dedicated to his studies, and then playful with Sailom, and allowing himself to be vulnerable enough to fall asleep on him.)

Then, we get midterms day.

Kang is anxious, he's struggling, he's lost confidence, and is also likely still thinking about how Sailom keeping his job as his tutor is dependent on him passing. Him continuing to be able to spend time with Sailom is dependent on him passing. Babygirl is feeling the pressure.

But then, Sailom passes him the eraser, and you can see (in the scene, not these screenshots, oops) that Kang is surprised, he's not sure what to expect-- is it another tell off? is it a cheat sheet because Sailom wants to keep his job and because he doesn't think Kang can do it?-- but then, it's encouragement. It's "trust me, you can do it".

And Kang goes from panicking and stressing out to Determined Boy immediately. Because Sailom believed in him.

After Kang fails chemistry and Sailom is no longer his tutor, we continue to see how Sailom has influenced him.

He and his friends don't cut the line, they move on. Kang isn't actively playing games on class, he goes to eat and ends up staring at the place where Sailom sat last time he was at the restaurant and thinking about how much Sailom enjoyed the meal.

He signs up to work on the organizing team instead of the sports team, practically vibrating with hope that he will get to work with Sailom (Sailom is, too, look at his face in this scene! They both want to stay in each other's lives, but don't know how), and they're both devastated when they aren't paired up.

When he sees Sailom with the man at the cafe, he goes through like, half the stages of grief in three seconds as he processes Pimfah's question and then realizes what's happening.

He's so distracted by his concern that he can't stop staring.

He asks his grandmother to hire Sailom back, and it's enough for her to change her mind, and to recognize that Kang has changed.

He says this cuckoo-bananas line to his grandmother.

A month ago, he wanted to beat this boy bloody, and now he can't function without him, and he doesn't want to.

And if Sailom doesn't understand that he has an absurd amount of influence over Kang at this point, then the boy is not as smart as everyone thinks he is, because Kang is studying on a day off.

Kang, who used to swear he was studying as he booted up his game system.

And! He only steps away from studying when Sailom initiates a product placement themed twist on "playfully spray your crush with a hose"!

In a very short time, Sailom has become so important to Kang that he was just in a sad boy haze until he figured out how to get Sailom back.

I wonder if he realizes that he's become important to Sailom, too. Because Sailom was also at peak sad boy while they were separated by circumstance.

This is all obviously super unhealthy, that Kang is wrapping so much of his motivation and self worth up in Sailom and his approval and presence in his life, but like... that's why we're here, right? (Also, the dynamics that are at play here are fascinating, and if I ever get my thoughts about it in order I'm going to write a damned essay)

Anyway, I will not be normal about them until they figure out how to be normal about each other, which is going to be never, so I hope y'all are in this with me.

#dangerous romance the series #dangerous romance #kangsailom #sailomkang

[ganseyth]

The Date

PREVIOUS PART | MASTERLIST |

Part: 15

Pairing: Jason Todd x Female Reader

Length: 1.7k

Warnings: fluff (nothing crazy this time around)

Note: thank you so much for your patience with me! life has been absolutely crazy with school and my job - i hope this chapter makes up for it :))

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You didn't know what to say. 

His invitation hung in the air as you tried to form a response. 

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you thought about how fast you guys were moving. 

And the truth was you weren't scared. 

You enjoyed the playful banter between the two of you but this new side of Jason excited you. 

You nodded, unable to resist the offer. You had a crap weekend and you were sure Jason didn't have fun either. So why not? 

However, your mind flashed back to the conversation you had with your ex earlier. You assumed Jason would never pressure you into doing anything but you thought it'd be best to have that conversation anyway. 

It was the healthy thing to do. 

Set boundaries so no one gets hurt.

 Something you'd wish you had done with your ex. 

Noticing your silence Jason reached out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

"Hey, I promise we don't have to do anything." He offered as if he could read your mind. "We can always just get into our pajamas and sleep. There's no pressure I promise." 

As you glanced up at Jason, you realized that he genuinely cared about your well-being. He wasn't like your ex, who had pushed and pressured you into things you weren't ready for. 

No, Jason was different.

Taking a deep breath, you mustered the courage to respond. "Jason, I want you to know that I appreciate your respect towards me. Especially after what happened with my ex." 

He nodded, urging you to continue. 

"I think if this is going to work out and become something more, " you paused, "it's important for us to have a conversation about boundaries. I want both of us to feel comfortable and safe in this relationship."

Jason's eyes softened, and he nodded. "Of course, sweetheart."

His words filled you with hope and reassurance. It was clear that Jason valued and wanted this to work as much as you did. 

With a deep breath, you continued, "I just want to make sure we're on the same page, Jason. I don't want you to think you owe me this and I need to make sure that this isn't something you do for everyone else."

He took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Sweetheart, believe me when I say I've never slept with a client and besides, I thought we agreed you were never considered a client in my eyes."

His honesty warmed your heart. You couldn't help but smile, feeling a weight lifted off your shoulders.

 "Thank you, Jason."

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "You mean a lot to me and I don't want to mess this up."

With a newfound confidence, you nodded, the smile on your lips growing wider.

 "I'd love to take a bath together, Jason. But I would prefer to keep some clothes on."

His face lit up with a grin, mirroring your excitement. "That's perfectly fine with me."

You felt a surge of happiness and relief flood through you, so this was what a healthy relationship felt like. 

"Let's go pretty boy," you said standing up from your place on the bed smiling as you extended your hand toward Jason.

He chuckled, accepting your hand and allowing you to pull him toward the bathroom. 

As you entered the bathroom, the warm glow of overhead light filled the space making you both feel instantly relaxed. 

You released his hand, allowing you to turn the faucet on.

As the water ran warm you turned to Jason who had already taken off the majority of his clothes back in the bedroom.

The only things left on him were his slacks, which seemed to fit his muscular legs like a glove.

Jason smirked as he noticed your attention. 

"You first darling."

You smiled. "What?"

"As much as I love that dress," he paused, "I'd much rather have it on the floor right now." 

You laughed as you quickly moved the thin straps off your shoulder shrugging the dress off completely.

Standing there in your strapless bra and underwear you began to feel stupid. 

But the look on Jason's face wiped the embarrassment away. He was positively entranced. 

"Well," you teased, "what are you waiting for then?"

He chuckled as he dropped his pants leaving him only in his underwear. 

Your eyes widened. 

You had seen him without a shirt multiple times this week but to see almost his entire body was something else. 

As stupid as it sounded, his chiseled body made your mouth water.

"Sweetheart," he said, "you're beautiful."

Heat flooded your face at the compliment. 

Sure you had been complimented on your appearance before but hearing those words from Jason sent shivers down your spine. 

The blush intensified as he moved closer.

His strong arms wrapped around your waist pulling you flush against his chest.

"You're beautiful too," you spoke into his chest. 

You felt a low chuckle from him. "Thank you." 

 He kissed the top of your head before releasing you and motioning to the tub. "Ladies first."

"Why thank you, kind sir," you joked as you stepped into the tub.

 As you sat down, Jason joined you on the opposite side of the tub. It was a tight fit but comfortable nonetheless. 

"So," he began, "do you have any plans for the New Year?" 

You shook your head as you figured out where this was going. "No, why?"

He grinned. "How do you feel about attending a family dinner at Wayne Manor?"

You smiled. "Is there food involved?"

Jason shook his head, chuckling lightly. "Alfred usually makes more than we can eat."

In the chaos of the past two days you had forgotten about the butler. You hoped he was doing okay and you wouldn't mind meeting him in person. 

"Sounds perfect."

He nodded, looking down at his hands. "There's something else."

Shifting so your legs were pulled to your chest you looked at him curiously. "What?"

His eyes met yours. "Would you be okay with meeting my entire family?"

For some reason his question made you laugh. The man had just met your entire family plus your ex, the least you could do was meet his family. 

"I'd love to," you replied.

His face brightened and he reached for your hand pulling you to him.

As you settled comfortably against his chest so the two of you sat on the same side of the tub you felt his fingers gently move through your hair.

"They'll be excited to meet you," he said, twirling a strand of hair around his finger. 

"Oh?" You asked. 

"Yeah," he paused, his hand pausing in its movements. "You're um... well you're the first person I would be bringing home to the manor." 

You felt your heart skip a beat. "Really?"

He nodded. "You're the first person I've felt comfortable enough around to bring home."

You tilted your head slightly to look up at him. "Thank you." 

He shrugged. "Don't thank me yet. You'll have to meet everyone first and then decide if you want to thank me."

Smiling, you fell back against his chest. "Oh, they can't be that bad." 

He shook his head. "Trust me, they are."

You decided to leave it at that since he wasn't going into much detail. 

Instead, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to relax fully against him as his fingers continued to move through your hair.

This was the perfect way to end the night. 

However, that thought was interrupted as you remembered how much hairspray and makeup you had on you that needed to be washed away. 

"Jason?"  you whispered.

"Hmm?"

You paused questioning whether or not you wanted this to end. 

"Do you mind if we move to the shower?"

He smiled. "Not at all."

After carefully stepping out of the tub and moving over to the shower you turned the showerhead on to let it get warm. 

You couldn't help but let out a contented sigh, feeling the tension of the day melt away as the water cascaded over your body as you stepped into the shower. 

Jason stepped into the shower behind you allowing the water to make its way down his chest. 

You watched as the water droplets glistened on his skin, accentuating every muscle on his chest. 

You were so distracted by the man in front of you, that you failed to realize him reaching for the shampoo behind you. It wasn't until the lavender scent hit your nose that you realized what he was doing. 

Jason Todd was washing your hair. 

And he was doing a damn good job of it. 

It was so relaxing to be cared for. 

You felt his fingers gently move over your scalp and your knees almost gave way.

As he rinsed that last bit of shampoo from your hair and added conditioner, to only the ends you admired, you decided it was his turn to be cared for. 

Picking up the shampoo bottle from where Jason had set it down, you put a good amount of soap in your hand before reaching up to wash his hair. 

After some maneuvering on his end, you were able to quickly clean and rinse his hair before deciding to quickly wash the rest of yourselves. 

After stepping out of the shower and drying off you both headed back into the bedroom to grab your pajamas for the night.

Once you found Jason's shirt it didn't take much convincing for him to allow you to wear it to bed. 

You held it up to him.

"Please?" you questioned. 

He rolled his eyes affectionately. "You can wear my shirt whenever you want."

You giggled, walking back into the bathroom to change out of your wet undergarments and into the warm fabric of Jason's shirt and a pair of your softest underwear. 

After coming out of the bathroom you found him sitting down on the edge of his bed, wearing only a pair of black boxer briefs. 

"Ready?" he asked, patting the spot next to him.

You walked over to join him. 

As he shifted, pulling the covers over the both of you, you sighed contently as you snuggled close to him, enjoying the feeling of his warm presence. 

His arm came around you and held you close as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

You smiled as he kissed the top of your head before you fell into a deep comfortable sleep.

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tag list: @theautisticduck @igotanidea @princessbl0ss0m @parkjammys @escapism-r-us @awolfofartemis @drwmatic @letmebebatmanpls @apizzacalledmel @theendofthematerialgworl @nirvanaaaonly @redsakura101 @mvchmp @whydoyoucare866 @theroyalmanatee @luvelyxp @mxgvmiii @rainycloud858 @kimberrrrr @asahisimpnation @gone-batty-fics @b-barnes04 @flamegirl @ghostindeath

#jason todd x reader #dc jason todd #jason todd fanfiction #fanfic #jason todd #jason todd fanfic #jason todd imagine #dc titans #!thedatejason #dc red hood

[frankcastleonlyfans]

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍

pairing: dad!daemon targaryen x son!oc (dad!daemon x mom!reader au)

summary: rhaegon asks his father for help.

warnings: ALLUSIONS TO INCEST, allusions to sex, daemon saying the c word a lot, daemon is a supportive dad, he also gives the birds and bees talk, it's kinda fluff.

author's note: based on this ask i got a time ago, luv you nonnie <3

reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. support your content creators 💓 please leave a comment if you like my work, and enjoy your reading.

dad!daemon au masterlist here

gif by @hopemikaelsongf

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ୨♡୧ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

Since Viserra's third name day celebration, Prince Rhaegon has been with a girl living on his thoughts.

Lord Lannister's daughter, Cerelle, caused quite a lot of damage to his heart.

Her beautiful golden locks and blue eyes were stuck in his head like the sweetest memory.

In his bones, Rhaegon felt like he needed to have her.

Fortunately, at the age of 18, he could marry someone if he wanted to.

His parents wouldn't refuse the idea of marriage if he suggested, he knew they married when they were younger than he is now.

But how to approach them? He found it to be very uncomfortable to talk about women with his mother, so his father was the one to have this kind of conversation with.

And in the best scenario, his father would encourage him, and talk to his mother in his place.

And that's why, he is trying to find the right words, while he and Daemon are both riding horses on a hunt in the middle of the Kingswood.

"Father," Rhaegon voiced, getting off his horse "there's something I wish to talk about."

"Shhh, you are going to frighten the stags." Daemon scolded him, getting off his black stallion.

"Yeah, I know. But what I have to say is important" Rhaegon scratched his neck nervously.

Daemon frowned, "It can't wait until we are back to the camp?" his son shook his head.

"It's about a lady." The older prince opened a large smirk. It wasn't the first time they had this kind of talk.

Rhaegon has been doing it since he was younger, every time he had a crush on a different lady.

Daemon dealt with this better than you ever did.

One time, Rhaegon told you he was in love with his sister's young Septa. The next day, you changed Alyssa's septa to a much older one. The boy thought she looked like a frog.

Since then, he has never talked about women with you ever again.

But between young septas and handmaids that Rhaegon easily fell in love with, this time he was really off his feet.

"Really? Is it really a lady this time?" Daemon chuckled as Rhaegon rolled his eyes.

"Yes, it is. In fact, it's Cerelle Lannister, Lord Jason's daughter." Rhaegon answered.

"Could you not have picked someone better? I doubt you want that cunt as your in law." The Rogue Prince sat under a tree and his son did the same.

"I don't. But I do want his daughter to be my wife." The young prince blurted out.

Daemon couldn't believe his ears. He turned to face his son, and with a large grin, he asked;

"So it's time?"

Rhaegon laughed out loud. He expected a different reaction from his father.

"Yes, father. I think it is. But you should be the one to talk to mother about it, I don't want her making a big deal out of it. And also, Lord Lannister..."

"You know your mother, she's going to do it anyway. But I'll send a raven to Jason. He won't refuse this betrothal, but I can't promise he will like you. That cunt hates me, I'm sure he will do the same with you once you wed his daughter."

Rhaegon nodded. That wasn't a problem for him. What is a lion compared to a dragon?

"But are you really ready for marriage? Because it comes with pressure. You know our line must go on, and I would like for our blood to remain pure. I don't think there's anyone better for your sister than you, and I don't want her to end up with someone lower than her." Daemon sighed. His parents were siblings, and he wanted for his children to be betrothed, just like his parents were.

"I definitely don't want to marry Alyssa, and I'm sure she would hate the idea too. Besides, you can marry her to Daeron, the bloodline would remain pure, and she'd be marrying into royalty."

"I rather watch Caraxes eat her whole than marry her to Alicent's kin." Daemon grumbled, "And I am serious about the pressure. You need to have heirs. Once Rhaenyra ascends to the throne, she will make me Prince of Dragonstone again, and you will be my heir."

"I know, father! It is my duty, but I don't need to be reminded of it all the time!" Rhaegon scowled.

"But you do! Do you even know how to–" Daemon started, but the young prince cutted his father off.

"Yes! It's not because I'm not like Aegon, who practically live on pleasure houses, that I never fucked anyone. Just send the raven to Lord Lannister, and keep mother from making a scene. I want Cerelle to be mine."

"Fine." Daemon nodded, "I'm happy for you, son."

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen imagines #dad!daemon targaryen x mom!reader au #dad!daemon targaryen au #dad!daemon targaryen x mom!reader headcanons #house of the dragon imagines

[faebaex]

Eye of the Storm II

author note: okay okay so this turned out alot longer than i was expecting (*ﾉωﾉ) i just kept getting new ideas as I wrote and here we are. i don’t think I am the best at writing Malleus, but I wanna get better. i feel like reader just makes him feel like a soft pile of mush ♡( ◡‿◡ ) also more Lilia than i was expecting, for he is a comforting ear and also a meddling old man in equal measures

Please note that this is a female character.

characters: Malleus Draconia x F!Fae Reader

Some time had passed since you had been taken by Malleus from the clearing. You weren’t entirely sure on how long, it could have easily been days or weeks, the time blending into one. You had eventually been released from the tower, much to the upset of Malleus, and herded into another, more lavish suite. It was here that you had remained ever since. 

The Crown Prince’s caretaker, Lilia, had insisted that you were not being held prisoner, and that you were instead a highly important, treasured guest. You weren’t sure how much you believed him. Once you were free of Malleus’ possessive hold, his demeanour had subtly changed. His cooing, soothing words that helped you escape the dragon’s grasp were long gone, and his hand on your shoulder felt heavy and foreboding. Your ‘light tea time conversation’ had been more of an interrogation as he prodded you on who you were, where you were from, what had happened that night... But you assume your answers had satisfied him. He was much kinder after that. And you were still alive, after all. 

You often found yourself worrying about the situation in the Sombre Wilds. Lilia had vaguely implied that the situation had been dealt with, but refused to go into further detail when you asked. So you waited, waited and wondered what would end up becoming of you. You hadn’t seen Malleus since you had escaped from the tower, and you’d be lying if you said he hadn’t crossed your mind. Your feelings towards him were ambivalent, part of you wanting to be terrified of the fae that had spirited you away, but another part of you was... Curious. During your time with him in the tower, he had treated you with nothing but gentleness. Sure, there were a few times when he’d cage you to him, tense and possessive, always when someone tried to enter the room. But all other times, his touch was always light, like he was scared you’d shatter before his eyes. 

Once again, you found your mind wandering to the events that had recently taken place, with you at the center... 

“I hardly feel there is a need for this attitude, Malleus.”

Malleus continued to snarl above you, baring his fangs at the intruder by the door, keeping you pressed tight to him. You tried to peek a glance at who had entered the room, but the wings that encompassed you blocked any view that wasn’t the dragon fae himself. 

A sigh. “Malleus, you are scaring her.”

You hadn’t even registered that you were trembling, but your body had chosen to betray your fear. Malleus’ growling abruptly ceased, but silence barely fell before a deep rumbling reverberated from his chest, the same sound that he had been making before. Soon you felt a pressure to the crown of your head, as he pressed his cheek against you in an attempt to soothe. You felt your waist squeezed again by the tail that was coiled around you, and his hold around you loosened a degree. 

“Now, Malleus-- Don’t glare at me like that-- why don’t you let your... Treasure go, and we can--” The sudden click on the stone floor was all it took for the dragon fae to straighten and immediately begin seething again. Suddenly, a pressure started to build in the air around you, causing your skin to prickle and itch. Hold on... Was he casting?

“Okay, okay... I’ll stay back... There’s no need for magic, Malleus.” Despite the stranger’s attempts to appease the dragon, the pressure continued to build in the room as Malleus clearly had no intention of stopping. The air grew heavier, and you felt goose bumps prickle across your skin, and panic began to rise in you again. The intruder’s protests dimmed into the background as you realised you needed to intervene, lest there be catastrophic consequences with using such strong magic in such a small area. 

Your heart pounded in your chest as you lifted a shaking hand, reaching up to cup the dragon fae’s cheek, albeit awkwardly. You prayed your actions didn’t come across as meek. But it was like he didn’t even notice you, growls still spilling from his throat as the pressure in the air only increased. Suddenly, a sensation bloomed in your chest, like a sudden hit of intuition and you knew what you had to do. Squirming in his arms and ignoring the burning blush on your cheeks, you rose your free hand to cup his other cheek and strengthened your grip, cupping his face firmly and drawing his attention to you, his sharp green eyes snapping towards to you. Taking a deep, steadying breath, you pressed your forehead against his. Just like he had done to you earlier, you brushed your thumbs in what you hoped was a soothing motion across the expanse of his cheeks.

The room went silent. The growls and snarls that were bubbling in Malleus’ throat died as he stared at you with wide eyes. The silence dragged and you held your breath, hoping such a bold gesture would be enough. Then slowly, oh so slowly the pressure from Malleus’ magic began to disperse, and you let out a sigh of relief. His hand snaked up from your back to curl into the hair at the back of your neck, his other arm holding you steady on his lap. He seemed to be fighting between the urge to keep you still and the urge to covet you closer. 

You jumped at the sudden click of the door shutting, and your eyes shot open. With a stretch, you could just peek over his wings to see the room empty, the other man having fled thanks to your distraction. You released another heavy breath, belatedly realising that any potential escape also left the room with the mysterious other man. 

A subtle squeeze at the back of your neck brought your attention back yet again to the dragon fae, and as your eyes met, you were taken aback by the intensity in his eyes. He stared at you with the most lovelorn expression, his gaze full of pining. You suddenly felt self-conscious, the weight of his gaze making you feel scrutinised. A soft but insistent pressure at the back of your neck had him guiding you back towards him until your foreheads were once again touching. You felt your cheeks begin to heat up again as he closed his eyes in contentment, as Malleus seemed to have decided that he was happy with this position. Maybe if you could just wait for him to fall asleep, you could slip away...

After that, the rest of your time in the tower was a blur. When you weren’t sleeping, you were being lavished with food finer than you’d ever seen, along with other precious trinkets which seemed to multiply every time you closed your eyes, for every time you awoke there would be a new jewel waiting for you. You stopped any escape attempts after the first failed try, if you could even call it that. Even when you thought he was asleep, you hadn’t even gotten two steps towards the door before he was suddenly behind you, puppy dog eyes in full force. 

Eventually, Malleus’ season came to an end. And as if he knew, the previous man returned, Lilia as you are now aware, and managed to coax your freedom from the dragon. Or, not so much freedom. Everything you could possibly need had been delivered to you, but you had been politely requested to stay put. You wondered if you’d ever see the outside of these walls again. 

As if on cue, a hollow knock sounded on the door and it opened before you could say a word. Ah, Lilia. Again. “Hello, dear F/N. I brought you some more books. I noticed you had taken to the more geographical variety of our books, so I think you’ll pleasantly enjoy these.” With a flick of his wrist, the books landed with a soft thump on one of the side tables. 

“I want to go home.”

Lilia smiled, an infuriating one, at your retort, leaning a shoulder against the wall as he crossed his arms and appraised you, “you say that like we are holding you hostage. Come F/N, haven’t we treated you well?” 

You gave him a tight lipped smile back. You always felt you needed to be on your toes around this particular fae, it was as if he was always one step ahead, as if he could lead you into a trap at any moment. “Undoubtedly, but I believe I have outstayed my welcome.” 

Both of you stared at each other in silence, a staring contest that had become a regular part of your routine. All it ever ended in was him brushing you off before conveniently finding a reason to excuse himself, so you were surprised when he left out a heavy sigh and pushed himself upright and made his way over towards the lounge chairs. 

“No one has ever said you can’t go home,” Lilia began, as he gestured for you to take a seat beside him. You remained standing. “However, this is a rather... Sensitive matter. Of course, the upmost importance is keeping you safe.” 

Keeping you safe? Your eyes narrowed, “what does that mean?”  

The corner of his lip quirks upwards. “Surely you understand how special you are? I can promise you, we are in... Negotiations to allow you home, but they have not been progressing as smoothly as we’d like. And I reiterate, keeping you unharmed is imperative.”  

“Unharmed?!” you couldn’t help your outburst, shocked by the tone he was taking, talking as if there was suddenly a target on your back, “I would be in no danger at home, what are you-- And I can assure you, I am not some sort of important public figure, you’ve got the wrong idea! I am just a regular woman, who was in the wrong place at the wrong time!” 

Lilia’s eyes softened as you spoke, as if he pitied you. He patted the chair beside him, more firmly this time, and after a moment’s hesitation, you crossed the room to slip into the seat beside him. “I believe you. But it is not a risk we are willing to take,” you opened your mouth to retort, but Lilia gently raised a finger to stop you, “... You may have been a normal woman when you entered that clearing, my dear, but everything changed when you left it.” Lilia gently placed a hand on the arm of your chair as he stared at you with eyes full of compassion, “dragons mate for life, F/N.”

You felt your breath stick in your throat at his words, but Lilia didn’t stop. “You’ll have to forgive me, I was sceptical at first. I too wondered if you had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. But I have observed, and I have verified. You and Malleus are soulmates, F/N.” 

You felt your chest tighten and a lump form in your throat at the heaviness of Lilia’s words. Soulmates? What sort of absurd claim was this? You felt your skin grow clammy, and you huffed out a shuddered breath, “I don’t understand...--”

“I have been Malleus’ caretaker since he first crept from his shell, F/N. You’d have difficulty finding someone who knows him as personally as I. And yet despite that, there would have been no chance of me calming him when he was in his frenzied state in the tower. But all it took from you was a simple touch, don’t you find that odd? A territorial, possessive dragon, ready to strike, yet you pressed your head to his and he calmed. It’s no coincidence, F/N.”

You sank back into your chair, at a loss for words. You didn’t want to believe it - it felt ludicrous to you. As far as you knew, there were no belief of soulmates in the Sombre Wilds, so this sudden concept being thrust upon you that you and Malleus were tied together by fate? 

“Perhaps now you can understand why we have been having such difficulties in arranging your return.” Lilia flashed you a sympathetic smile and drew his hand back, leaning back in his chair, “one of our proposals was that when you returned home, you would return with protection. Specifically, a guard. However, that proposal was not very well received...” 

You could understand why. Relations weren’t exactly the best between the Valley of Thorns and the Sombre Wilds. “... And the other proposal?” 

“To put it bluntly, you would remain here. We would provide you with everything you needed to ensure you were comfortable, and we’d even be willing to arrange a delegation from the Sombre Wilds to take up permanent residence in Briar Valley as a show of good faith.” 

You scrubbed a hand across your face, trying to process all of which you’d just been told. To you, both proposals seemed drastic. You felt you were stuck in a particularly problematic tug of war, with you being the rope. Suddenly, you felt very overwhelmed and timid, “I just-- I... I just want to go home.” 

“I know, F/N. But if anything were to happen to you, a war would be guaranteed. And forgive my selfishness, but I don’t wish to see another war. Not when it can be so easily avoided.” 

You bit down on your lip, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on your soul. It wasn’t just your life on the line here, it was a decision that could affect hundreds, no, thousands of others. With that perspective in mind, your own feelings felt insignificant. 

You sighed heavily, feeling almost defeated in the face of this issue that you had no idea that was playing out around you. “... So where do we go from here?”

“Unfortunately, we have hit an impasse as far as negotiations have been going,” suddenly Lilia flashed you a fanged smile, perhaps in an attempt to lighten the mood, “although there is something that you might be able to assist me with...” You already had a bad feeling about this. 

“You see, Malleus is currently unaware of your desire to leave, but who better than yourself to inform him of this news?” You balked, your mouth dropping open. “I-i hardly feel like that is appropriate!” You protested, cursing internally as you felt your cheeks flush red at the idea. 

“Why not? He’d listen to you more than he’d listen to anyone else. I doubt he’d have the heart to refuse you. If I tried to broach the subject, Briar Valley would be looking at storms for the next month, at least. And at worst... Well, I doubt you want another repeat of the tower incident, hm?” 

You deadpanned at the thought. Either way, it sounded like you could end up in the tower again regardless of who broke the news to Malleus, if he didn’t like what he heard. 

“Besides, wouldn’t it be nice for you and Malleus to have a chat? It’s been a while since you’ve seen each other.” You looked at Lilia as if he had lost his mind, but he just continued to give you a toothy grin. 

“When should I do it?”

“Well... No time like the present, no?”

...

And that is why you were stood outside two of quite possibly the most imposing doors you’d ever seen. Even the doors of the throne room in the Sombre Wilds paled in comparison. And these were just bedroom doors. 

“... Are you sure this uh... Location is appropriate for this conversation?” You asked Lilia, lips pressing into a line as you doubted this was truly the best move you both could be making. 

“I don’t see why not. It’s a similar suite to your own and offers the privacy needed for such a conversation.” Lilia replied nonchalantly, although you had a sneaking suspicion he was gaining amusement from your awkwardness. 

“And you’ll be there too?”

“Of course, I’m happy to offer my support.”

You turned back towards the doors, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling psyched out by the imposing sight. You had no idea what awaited you in there. Would Malleus attempt to keep you captive again? Or would he be cold and uninviting? Would it be... Awkward? 

You didn’t have much longer to worry, as Lilia pressed a hand to your shoulder, gave it a squeeze and herded you forwards, giving the door a quick knock before you could protest. “Everything will be fine. Come on.” Before you could protest, Lilia had already opened the door and lightly pushed you inside. You could curse him as you heard the door creak shut and turned to see that Lilia had in fact not joined you. 

Reluctantly, you turned away from the door and took in the room before you. Like Lilia said, it was a suite like your own but... Far grander. The lounge area alone left an impression, with plush looking chairs and an equally inviting loveseat nestled in one corner of the room. A low table sat nearby, with a beautiful dragon carving decorating the middle. Your eyes trailed until they fell upon the large arched windows, and that’s when you noticed Malleus. 

He seemed to be gazing at nothing, his lips fixed in a line. You couldn’t help but think that the light filtering through the windows gave him an almost ethereal look, whilst also giving him quite the imposing shadow. It felt odd in a way, seeing him without wings or a tail. His horns, however, remained. You felt something in your chest flutter, but shoved the feeling down and played it off to nerves as you gingerly approached, your fingers tangling together in front of you. 

“Lilia, I told you I didn’t want to be disturbed.” The best way to describe Malleus’ expression would have been petulant as he turned away from the window, a pout pressed into his cheeks before it all fell away, his eyes widening in shock when his gaze fell on you instead of his caretaker. You realised that this was the first time you’d actually heard Malleus speak, and a faint dusting of pink littered your cheeks when you noticed that it sounded akin to his growls. 

You shook the thought from your head as you tried to find your voice, “Ah... I’m sorry I didn’t realise this was a bad time... Lilia told me that... Yeah...” Lilia seemed to tell you many things. “I can come back another time if...”

“No! No... You... You are never a disturbance.” Malleus uttered gently, stepping away from the window to close some of the distance between you. You felt your cheeks heat at his words, and prayed that the dim of the room would hide it. You couldn’t allow yourself to be flustered, you needed to get this over with and ask--

“I trust you have been well? I ordered that your comfort be ensured. I wanted to see you but... Lilia suggested I give you some time to adjust... He told me you have been enjoying books, I have a private collection you may find to your liking, please treat it as your own, I--”

“I-i would like to go h-home.” You felt your chest squeeze as the words rushed out of you in a flurry, and you watched as his expression froze, before his lips pressed back into a thin line and his expression became unreadable. You wrung your hands nervously, as silence stretched between you. 

“I see.” More silence. You felt your heartrate rise, swallowing the rising lump in your throat. You rattled your brain, trying to find something to say, whether to convince him or just to end this deafening silence. 

“Did I... Fail to meet your needs?” You felt your heart clench at his words, guilt pooling in you as despite how neutral he attempted to keep his expression, you could still catch the glimmer of hurt in his eyes. 

“It’s not that! I-i was very comfortable but... But this isn’t my home. My whole life is in the Wilds, I can’t just... Leave...” Silence again. You could feel yourself cracking slightly under the pressure, and you began to babble before you could stop yourself. 

“A-and we don’t even know each other! You’re a Prince, the Prince of the Valley of Thorns, and I’m just... I’m just a regular woman from a kingdom that is rarely acknowledged by the rest of the world! I-i... I don’t know--”

You hadn’t even registered Malleus moving, until he was right in front of you. Even in a less draconic form, he towered above you. With a crooked finger, he brushed a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, likely from your frenzied babbling. The motion was hesitant and awkward, like he was unsure if he was touching you correctly, a world of difference from when he was carrying you around in the tower weeks earlier. 

“I would like to know you.” He said softly, and your cheeks flushed, from his words and your own embarrassing prattling. How were you supposed to respond to that? You took a deep breath and tried to steel yourself. 

“... It’s not fair for me to have to change my entire life...” You spoke firmly, even if you did feel a little intimidated by your close proximity. It was difficult, it felt like you were kicking a puppy every time you rebuffed him. You watched as Malleus’ brow furrowed at your words, his hand pulling away from your cheek and arms folding. 

“But I don’t want you to change. I like you how you are.” Malleus was perplexed, unable to grasp what particularly was making you feel the need to leave. To leave him. 

It was odd, having someone so innocently proclaim their desire for you. It fell so easily from his lips, and whilst his gestures were hesitant, his words never were. You felt bashful under both the weight of his gaze and words. You remembered Lilia’s words, about how difficult arranging your departure was, and how different your life would be now regardless of whether you ever got back to the Sombre Wilds. You were proclaiming to be ordinary but Lilia was clear - your life would never be ordinary after this. 

“If I may, I have a suggestion.”

You startled, nearly jolting into Malleus, who put a steadying hand on your shoulder. Your head whipped round, seeing Lilia once again leaning by the door. Oh, so now he decided to show up? You couldn’t help the glare that you shot his way, and clearly you weren’t the only one who felt this way, as Malleus glowered at him from above you. He only shot you both a fang toothed grin in response. 

“I think the two of you could benefit from a... Level playing field, so to speak. A neutral location. It would give you the time and opportunity to get to know each other, but in a location that would feel more comfortable for F/N. Let’s say we try it for... A year,” You opened your mouth to protest, but Lilia lifted a finger to hush you, continuing on, “That way, It’ll give us the time needed to iron out the details of your return to the Sombre Wilds, should you still be steadfast in your wish to leave. And surely it’ll be much more interesting than spending all day in your suite, no?” 

You mulled this new proposal over. Was this why Lilia was absent? Had he anticipated something like this occurring? His eyes and smile gave nothing away, and it only unnerved you more. Just how many steps ahead was he? 

“... What location did you have in mind?” 

Lilia grinned, what appeared to be a mischievous glint in his eye, “F/N, have you ever heard of Night Raven College?”

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus x y/n #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia x y/n #twst x reader #twst x y/n #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fic

[blushedfemme]

I’m not a stone butch myself, though am the type of service top that can happily go without. Generally if I want to be touched it’s once in a while, very gently, in between the four or so times I’m giving. Regardless, I just want to say as someone who isn’t stone that that the way you are is complete and perfect and good. I love and appreciate and know stone butches and I love and appreciate and know how important high femmes are to them. Everyone who gets all fucked about pillow princesses can’t get past their own limited perspective and understand what a relief it is for stone butches to find a high femme, to find a sexual partner that doesn’t pressure them into something they don’t really want or very very rarely want, who takes it personally, etc. I’ve seen that look of relief over beers at the bar, when a friend finally finds that genuinely liberating sex. Even for me, who isn’t stone, sex with high femmes has helped me figure out who I am and has been complete and perfect and good (so good).

I want to say that sometimes this negativity towards high femmes comes from a place of trauma. Some of us came out in small towns or otherwise stifling circumstances where our only encounters were with ostensibly straight women who found us good enough to fuck them but not good enough to fuck back. Although that’s no excuse for turning your hurt into an attack on stone identities, I also understand that hurt and I hope those people can heal.

Mostly I think it’s just entitlement. Jealousy that they find someone hot and they aren’t available to them because they don’t have sex the way they want to have sex. Too fucking bad.

I really need more people to pick up a book or look up some old zines and learn our history.

Anyway. You don’t need anyone to validate you but I really wanted to say don’t listen to those idiots.

-🧰 (this is the barbecue anon btw 😉)

oh man i’m getting kinda emotional about this…🥺 thank you so so much for reaching out, i can’t tell you how much it means to me.

the way you spoke about the relief on your stone butch friends’ faces 🥹💕 god, that’s everything. i hope i can help give someone that sense of relief and safety someday. thank you for speaking so kindly about your experiences with stone femmes, it’s validating to hear that sex with us can be complete and good in its own right.

also there’s a lot of diversity within stone and the ways we like to receive and give. for example, i have touched a partner, both directly and indirectly, to give them pleasure, and would again. i have eaten out a partner and would again. there are stone femmes who wouldn’t do those things, and they’re wonderful and sexy and skilled, but it’s weird when ppl automatically assume a stone femme won’t touch a partner below the belt in any way bc some of us do! we just do it very carefully and on our own terms. the only thing i really can’t do is penetrating a partner. dysphoria is the best word to describe the feeling it gives me. once i put on the harness as a joke and looked in the mirror and it made me nauseous lol.

and thank you so much for providing insight into the other perspective, of bad experiences with “straight” women leading to pain around lack of reciprocity in the bedroom. i know how true that is. almost every queer person i’ve ever had a deep conversation with has a story like that. it helps me to understand where this disdain comes from and to hold compassion. 💞

#clarke answers #stone identity #🧰 anon #i’m very glad to hear from you again btw 🤭💖 i really enjoyed your ask~ #and love the toolbox emoji 😘 #long post

[stupidlittlenemo]

I finished Young Royals this morning and one thing that’s so clear to me, which I think could be why there’s so much discourse in general about this show is that there is this idea of this show being a “queer” show. And yes! It is a show with queer people in it - but the focus to me has always been on class and how different things can factor in; like being queer, being a person of color, an immigrant, neurodivergent or dealing with any kind of mental health issue (and probs others as well).

I think that’s why this show has always spoken to me so dearly. And this season, to me, is a culmination of everything we’ve seen both in season 1 and 2. I understand why all the characters do what they do - they make me angry, annoyed and I had to stop multiple times out of frustration; But I loved that!! Because I could understand! Of course Wille is a dickhead, he’s a prince that’s how his whole life has been that’s how he’s been raised (or not raised let’s be honest) and he’s under so much pressure from so many directions. His parent’s expectations, dealing with his brother (and later dealing with that side of his brother), everything with Simon because suddenly Simon having problems with the monarchy is a problem and oh it just continues.

And on the other hand we have Simon - who slowly realizes he has to change so much about himself to fit. And then what was once safe, singing and writing music, his home, even Wille is not anymore. It’s not safe. And what do you do with that? And because he is exactly like we’ve seen him in season 1 and 2 with Sara he just tries so hard to be there for Wille but then sees Wille react in a way, again, that reminds him so much of his father. And I so understand that that must be terrifying for a teenager! A teenager!!! He’s already experienced a family split apart due to anger, alcohol and violence (I can’t remember if it was ever explicitly said if his dad was violent but with the way he acted in season 1 I don’t think it’s a reach) so him starting that conversation with Wille at the end of ep5 after seeing willies anger was so so important and what the character needed to do.

And August and Sara are so so important to me in this season. August as a character is so interesting. He did something very very bad there is no denying that, but like with Wille we need to understand where he is from. With the backstory we got this season regarding Erik his decision to release the video in s1 is so much worse. But still I think it’s so important to not just label him as someone who can never change or never deserves anything good again. The internet is currently very into this idea of good vs. bad and that grey areas are not allowed and I think that is what I love so much about this show. This show is grey all over.

What I think Lisa is trying (and to me succeeding) to portray is that the system set in place is harmful for everyone. Everyone in this series deserves years of therapy. I’ve no clue how they plan to wrap this up next week. Personally, I don’t expect a “happy” ending. But I also never have. A hopeful or bittersweet one? Yeah sure, maybe.

Honestly, I’m just really excited about the last episode

#this is way too long I’m sorry #young royals spoilers #I’m just so happy that I get grey characters okay I love it when they are complex GIVE IT TO ME #young royals #fuck I loved this season

[sauriansolutions]

Tweels Burping Dialog

My blog isn't nearly gross enough... So, hello, The Internet! Have this terrible thing I made!

I haven't posted my real burping headcanons (burpcanons, if you will 🙄) for any Twst characters yet. (Poke me if you wanna see them!) (Don't be shy!) (I don't bite!) (... without explicit consent~ 😏)

Anyway, important context: Jade's dialog changes based on circumstances. Mainly, whether he's alone, in public with Polite Mode turned on, or with somebody who's got An Interest.

Honestly, Floyd's dialog also takes various circumstances into account... it's just that, unlike his brother, Floyd does whatever he wants, and is largely oblivious to other people and their feelings.

Here we go~

Jade

(after letting out a small/muffled burp)

- Oh my. Please excuse me... the food was delicious. 

- Mmh *licks lips* Beg pardon. Ahh, that was truly delightful... is there any more? 

- *pauses to pat his stomach and let out a tiny sigh, with a brief glance and a wry grin at you, before continuing to eat*

Jade

(after letting out a medium-sized burp)

- Oh *goes all wide-eyed* Ah. How unmannerly... please excuse me. 

- *holds up a finger to pause conversation, right before burping* Ahh, there it is. *smiles wide* Sorry for the interruption... please, do continue.

- *after trying to unsuccessfully muffle a burp into his fist* Haah... terribly sorry... I'd been holding that in for far too long.

Jade

(after letting out a gigantic belch) 

- Oh! *covers mouth delicately with fingers, blushing* That took me by surprise as well! Goodness, I sincerely apologize for being so rude. 

- *clapping a hand fully over his mouth, looking away in embarrassment* Oof... um, I am... terribly sorry about that... 

- *completely flushed, hiding his face in his hands and mumbling* Oh dear... ahh... I don't know what's come over me... I usually have much better manners...

- *looks impatient while the burp seems to go on forever. holding another fork full of food at the ready while he waits*

- *licks lips and tilts head, seductive* Mmm... how did you like that? *stroking circles 'round his tummy* Fufu, I'll confess, it was rather nice for me.

- Ohhh... that felt wonderful~ I, however, still have a bit of internal pressure in need of release... if I have your permission? 

- Hmm, not bad. *evil grin* Well, what do you think? Would you like another? *places your hand just below his ribcage* I'll need your help, though...

Jade

(after letting out a sickly/nauseous burp)

- Oh. *goes wide-eyed and pale* That... did not feel very good at all...

- *exhales sharply* Sorry! ...Ah, no, no... my stomach is just a bit upset... I am fine.

- Hrrk! Nnnh... *wipes mouth with back of hand, looking around frantically* Um... ah, one moment... e-excuse me... *speed-walks in the direction of the nearest bathroom*

- *convulsively swallows* Ah, this is bad... *voice drops to a barely-audible whisper* I... I think I might need to be sick...

- *drooling into receptacle* A... apologies for my lack of manners... *burps wetly again and shudders* Ugh, this is disgusting... you, you know, you... *gulp* really don't need to watch...

- *uncharacteristically swearing under his breath* P-please... can you kindly give me just... a moment of privacy... *burps again* Ngh! Ahhh... I- I'll be fine momentarily, I promise...

Floyd

(after letting out a small/muffled burp)

- *lets out a sigh of relief, then continues smiling like nothing happened while his companions (I like Azul and/or Riddle for this) glare at him*

- Hehe! That was my tummy saying, "Thanks for the food!"

- *goes wide-eyed, startled* Hiccup!

- Aww man, that was weak... Betcha I can do better! *thumps chest to work up a bigger burp*

Floyd 

(after letting out a medium-sized burp) 

- Mmph... ahhh! *thumps belly* Nice n' full now~

- What? *grins devilishly* Wasn't me! *points to whoever happens to be sitting next to him*

- Ah... urgh? *presses a fist hard into his belly, forcing out another, louder burp* Phew! There we go~ Anyway, what were you sayin'?

Floyd

(after letting out a gigantic belch)

- Whoa! Ehehe, I didn't even feel that one coming! Ahh, I feel better now though~

- Haah... whew! My tummy really needed that! 

- Whoops! *grins sheepishly* Might'a nommed my food a little too fast just now...

- *singsong* Excuuuuse meeee~!

- Yaaay! Now I got room for more~ *immediately goes for seconds*

Floyd

(after letting out a sickly/nauseous burp)

- Urghhh... *rubs stomach with sour expression* Oww... my tummy's hurtin'...

- Whoa, whaa? Geez... S-somethin' ain't sittin' right...

- F...fuck... Nghh...! *burps* Ughh, sorry...

- *covers mouth and whimpers* Oooh. Shiiit... kinda feel like throwin' up...

- *continues letting out a string of burps, back-to-back, each one causing him to jerk forward until he eventually crashes to his knees*

- Oh man, what the hell, I can't sto-ehhHRRP! ...Grrgh... buUurping? ouuUURRp! Seriously what the...! UUURRRRP! Oh my god this suuuucks....

- *looking shocked* Wah... what was *that?* Oh... *stomach rumbles* Ohhh n- *projectile vomits everywhere*

- Y/N-chan... *sniffles* I threw up... *hugs stomach, proceeds to rock back and forth and sob uncontrollably*

#sauri writes #belly kink #belly canon #jade #jade leech #floyd #floyd leech #burping #burp kink #belly ache #nausea #tw emeto #burpcanon

[silriven]

Thoughts on the Waking Shores Campaign

The one thing I wholeheartedly like about the Waking Shores quests, and by like I mean "oh, man, I think I seriously love this a little more every time I rewatch it" is this conversation between Wrathion and Alexstrasza. There's a lot going on here that I adore*

*but...

The reason why I like this exchange so much is because I am an idiot reading Wrathion as a sympathetic character, and I'm pretty/definitely/99.9% sure that was NOT the intent behind this scene.

The thing I've been wrapping my head around is that I really, really like the premise of this storyline: the pressure of being one of two surviving black dragons (as far as he and Ebyssian know) to return to the Dragon Isles and take responsibility for their flight's inheritance causes Wrathion, who is relatively young and inexperienced, to crack. He starts compromising his morals, lashes out and gets sloppy. Blacktalon notices and they're concerned. Ideally Ebyssian would be here to comment on that and call it out, too. Then Sabellian shows up, Wrathion's insecurity tanks, and things get worse. I love the idea of throwing this problem at Wrathion.

The problem is that would require the narrative to frame all of this as somewhat sympathetic, not JUSTIFIED, not EXCUSABLE, but as an understandable character reaction. And it just does not.

"My condolences for having to deal with those two for as long as you did."

"The red dragonflight is charged with the preservation and nuturing of all dragons, even those we may tire of at times." Wow, Alex, really?

So when you get to the end of this questline and there's this exchange between Alexstrasza and Sabellian: she's reprimanding him and seems to be denying him entrance to the Ruby Life Pools. Sabellian is present for the renewal of the ruby oathstone and oversees the eggs placed in the black dragonflight's life pool, anyways, but that's not really important.

What IS important (to me, the idiot who's a fan of this character) is that Wrathion is hanging back, observing everything at a distance. For all of the fuss he made about being involved in this task, now that he's here, he doesn't know what to do. He's out of his element, he isn't comfortable.

So when I first saw this, I thought: "Oh, now's a perfect time to tie up that loose end from the argument. Alexstrasza can notice that Wrathion is hanging back, beckon him forward, maybe say something sympathetic or poignant alluding to the way he was created by her flight. She could say something like that she wishes he had been better cared for, like these eggs will be, because Alex is supposed to be, you know, a kind and empathetic character.

This bullet cuts right through Wrathion's impressively thick emotional barrier, which was already pretty cracked from the stress he's put on himself. Wrathion apologizes for being a self-centered asshole and pledges the black dragonflight's defense of the Life Pools (the Obsidian Citadel is practically their neighbor, after all). Alex forgives him, blah blah blah, nice emotional landing just like all the other leveling campaigns have. Cool."

But we don't get anything remotely like that. The thing that struck me while playing through the Waking Shores a second time is how the purpose of the black dragonflight in this story is ultimately to service the red dragonflight's arc. The ruby oathstone is what gets a nice, tidy emotional resolution, the black dragon eggs are more like props.

Sabellian doesn't comment on how he feels about his flight finally being able to rear children on Azeroth again after "millennia" of struggling to survive on Outland. Wrathion has absolutely nothing to say after the shock of realizing that he and Ebyssian are not, in fact, the only black dragons left.

Another thing that I thought was a missed opportunity is what if Sabellian wasn't allowed into the Life Pools and it was up to Wrathion to oversee the placing of the black dragon eggs? Wrathion finally gets a taste of what he wants, he's the leader here, and he's utterly at a loss for what to do. These aren't his eggs, he doesn't know the broodmothers, he doesn't know how the hell his flight used to raise their whelps, he's not good with kids, etc.

Instead of leaving him flounder, Alex beckons him forward and teaches him what to do because, again, she's supposed to be an empathetic character.

I think I would've liked Dragonflight a lot more if Wrathion had had some moments to breathe in-between the arguing and the showboating. It just really doesn't feel like he was written to be a sympathetic or even likable character, not at least until Aberrus and the final chapter of Embers of Neltharion, "A Flame Extinguished."

I really like this next bit I've taken a screenshot of, too. I love the way Alex's voice actor says "Please, find Wrathion" in exasperation. You can tell she cares about him and empathizes with him even though she's clearly frustrated with the way that he's acting: stubborn, tunnel-visioned, and insecure.

tldr; to have a line like "My heart aches, I worry for Wrathion" conclude with only "the red dragonflight is charged with the...nurturing of all dragons, even those we may tire of at times" with that extra insult of "my condolences for having to deal with those two" just absolutely boggles my mind. There's so much more that could've been done with this setup.

#silriven: ruminations #wrathion #alexstrasza #dragonflight #world of warcraft #this is from an oldish thread I posted on bluesky back in august

[letmereadinpeace4]

My Dear Gangster Oppa Commentary - Episode 2

Reminders of the theories/interpretations made so far:

Guy and Tew are similar in their social awkwardness and their yearning for social interactions. However, they express it differently with Guy really coming across as awkward while Tew, thanks to his blank face and quietness, coming across as cold and inapproachable. Their different expressions of their social awkwardness leads to them having difficulty communicating.

Wahl and Guy are caught in a relationship that is overly emotionally intense. Their friendship has been build on their desire for connection and this has lead to them not drawing proper boundaries in their relationship, with Wahl feeling comfortable overstepping and Guy, so far, letting him do so. Guy’s unrequited love and his decision to distance himself has lead to a fracture in their relationship that is going to cause some issues.

Now that this is out of the way, let’s focus on the episode:

So we start this episode where we ended it, with Guy passed out from being drunk and clinging to Tew. Tew’s expression and the music make it clear that the physical contact is surprising but not unappreciated. I like how he slowly relaxes into the embrace. The romantic moment is somewhat undercut by the realization that both of their phones must have been ringing/vibrating the entire night!

We go from cute moment in the bedroom to a dramatic gangster scene and WHAT IS THIS OUTFIT!? Shirt with stripes and a red scarf! And this haircut! And these red tinted glasses that I might have worn when I was seven! And leather pants! Who dressed you! The more I look at it the more outrageous it is! Nothing works in this outfit! Nope sorry I know the music is supposed to make him look badass but this outfit just breaks any badass vibes he may have had. Even a knife does not help...

So Tew is a boss in a mafia gang and is having trouble because the random asshole he kicked out of the club happens to be the son of someone important...We will see where this goes but I am already placing bets that Guy will end up involved somehow, probably by getting kidnapped and used as a hostage.

The morning scene is really cute. I like that Guy and Tew are communicating much more naturally. The change is probably due to a mix of the pressure of the date being taken off, the fact that they spent the entire night cuddling and the fact that there is an expected social script for this kind of situation (or if you prefer, a somewhat clearer set of expectations to “succeed” at this social interaction i.e let someone sleep, explain how they got there, make them breakfast etc). This goes with my theory that Tew is more at ease when there is a social script to follow. Tew also confirms his eligibility as boyfriend by cooking a great breakfast for Guy, and Guy confirms his appreciation by letting him take the first bite and offering to wash the dishes. Overall a great moment of connection for both characters even if very little seems to be happening. It is this kind of interactions that slowly easy off the awkwardness and make future conversations easier.

So Guy talked about Wahl in his sleep. I like the random tangent about whales before confirming who Wahl actually is. This feels very real. More to the point, I like that Guy did not beat around the bush and explained things clearly. It is always good to see characters in drama avoid obvious misunderstanding tropes. Tew is not blind and recognizes that Guy has feelings for Wahl (or thinks he does).

Guy sees Tew’s scars and the situation immediately gets tense, which I absolutely get for both sides. Tew understandably does not wish to share about his day job as a gangster and Guy probably has so many questions about how the hell it happened.

So once he is back, Guy meets Wahl who is incredibly worried about where he was. Dramatic and overprotective sure, but somewhat justified by the fact that Guy disappeared all of the sudden without telling where he went and with whom, and did not answer his phone. It is easy to see Wahl as controlling, but if Guy has never done this kind of thing before, it is understandable that he would get worried.

Okay so while I do get that Wahl comes across as overprotective and controlling, he has a great point and his argument is fair. Meeting someone you have never met in real life, without telling anyone, and getting drunk is a recipe for disaster.

This must have been one of the rare time when Tew has been called kind. His smile is really beautiful. He soon gets down from his romantic high by being called for mafia responsibilities.

My theory that Wahl is immature seems to have more weight. His apology to Guy consists of him explaining why he was mad, saying sorry, and goofing around until Guy lets go of the grudge. He does not try to understand why Guy was mad or what line he might have crossed. He engages in this interaction with the mindset of “Please stop being mad” rather than “What made you mad?”. Then he says that he will spend some time with Guy only to backtrack and ask him to adapt to his schedule because his girlfriend asked for some help. To be fair, Wahl is not doing anything wrong per say: Guy is free all day and can meet him when he wants, and helping his girlfriend is what a good boyfriend does. However, he comes across as dismissive. By saying that he wants to spend some time with Guy only to backtrack when he has another engagement, his “kindness” towards Guy is downplayed and can be interpreted as disingenuous.

I will never get over about how glaring the shift from slice of life romantic comedy drama to mafia thriller is. One moment I am analyzing the dysfunctional relationship between two young adults and the next I am thinking about mafia politics.

Nope the outfit is not better! The glasses and the hairstyle still suck, the leather jacket and the red pants are kind of okay but for a teenager trying very hard to look cool, and the necklace plus the purple scarf is just an eyesore.

The old guy (their boss) stabbing (or tazing, it is not very clear) Wish John Lennon comes out of nowhere! I know it was supposed to be cool but it is so random I started laughing. Also way to breed resentment between your employees. Sorry mafia old dude but putting two of your members (they both seem to be pretty high rank) one against the other is only going to lead to trouble in the future.

So Wish John Lennon either killed someone or had sex with someone who is sleeping and rather than going to a doctor or to a pharmacy, he decides to treat his wound himself by pouring alcohol on it and licking his wound. Then he makes a dramatic threat against Tew for….getting him into trouble, even though apparently he didn’t even have to get involved in the first place and could have just stepped back and let Tew take the fall? I am sorry he just tries to hard to be a badass bad guy but his personality is so flat that I cannot get invested in him (I did not even catch his name…).

Tew seems to have his subordinates and employee's respect and I love that. Between Yuri who introduced him to gaming and gave him her profile to his driver/subordinate who worries about whether his apology to chief Sun went well, his people seem to care for him and respect him and it is really good to see.

Wahl again shows his lack of consideration. He invites Guy over when his girlfriend is here, apparently unaware that this makes Guy the third wheel, and ignores him in favor of bantering cutely with his girlfriend. Then he gets upset when Guy focuses on his phone.

I also have a feeling that Wahl simply does not get online relationship, probably because he did not engage in them. Furthermore, as he has mentioned in the last episode, his social circle tends to be Guy’s social circle. He sees Guy’s online friends as people he does not have access to and that, in some way, take Guy away from him. If we assume that Guy started gaming after Wahl got into a relationship, then it is reasonable to assume that Wahl may think that Guy distancing himself is because he found new friends online.

I am impressed by how easier it is for Tew and Guy to communicate by message. They banter easily, Guy plays cute while Tew plays hard to get and there us a teasing aspect to their interactions. It is almost jarring to see how different their interactions are between when they meet in the real world and when they talk online. I also love how clearly they enjoy talking to each other. Seriously they always smile when talking to each other. It is lovely to see.

I love the introduction of each member of the group. They manage to immediately introduce us to each character and their overall personality. Their banter is really fun. Also P’Insomnia is a mood.

I also really enjoy that they did not make the gamer characters into stereotypes. Usually, at least in the West, gamers are typically portrayed as socially maladjusted men dwelling in their mothers’ basement. It is really good to see different types of gamers and for them to have a positive portrayal.

The way Guy describes Tew is really sweet, not only because it shows that he is smitten with him but also because it shows that Guy has a much better understanding of who Tew is. It came much faster than I thought it would but I really like it.

I love Guy’s introduction of the member of the group to Tew. This is also a typical thing that happens with two introverts. When there is a social situation where one is more at ease than the other and suddenly it’s like their awkwardness is gone and they manage the social interaction perfectly. I call it the “My desire to be a good friend trumps my social awkwardness”.

They make it really obvious that they are into each other! I cannot imagine how awkward it is for everyone!

P’Insomnia is great! I really love her banter with Tom/Doctor Strange and her trying to restrain Muffin’s flirting. I also love how she feels confident enough in herself to only drink water when everyone else is drinking beer (especially since she came by bike).

Meanwhile, Guy joins the drinking even though he knows he does not have a good tolerance. It’s probably due to him wanting to do things like everyone else and join the drinking, but still, it is a bad idea. I wonder if this will stay as a running gag about him or if it will have more serious repercussions later. I do not have any preference as of now.

So Guy inevitably gets drunk and Tew gets him to the bathroom to take care of him. We have a speedrun of two romantic tropes in the space of two minutes with Tew catching Guy when he falls and then wiping his face. Tew seems to be taking his role as a caretaker in stride and I find it really sweet. I also find it interesting that he seems to be at ease in this role, aside from some mild exasperation at the beginning. So far, we do not know what his family background is but I wonder if he has already been placed in this position before.

As Guy and Tew exit the park, they meet Wahl, who has looked at Guy’s phone and discussion with “Yuri” and followed them. This is the one point where Wahl goes from being a protective friend who can be immature and inconsiderate to a friend who is crossing some serious boundaries. Him following Guy at the meeting, demanding to know why Guy is so drunk, pulling him towards him and accusing Tew of getting him drunk is more in line with how an over-controlling partner acts than how a proper friend acts, especially since he knows (again, when he looked at Guy’s phone conversation) that the meeting was planned. His previous overstepping could be explained by him being protective and perhaps being worried and afraid at the growing distance between him and Guy, but now he has no excuse for this behavior.

Wahl and Tew are staring at each other like predators defending their territory. Sorry Wahl, but I think Tew can overpower you any day, perhaps with only one hand.

Final Thoughts:

This was a good second episode, that serves as a good follow up to episode one. We got introduced to each members of the guild and they all seem like fun people with interesting personalities. I look forward to seeing more of them and I hope they can all maintain their friendship.

Guy and Tew grew closer faster than I expected, which is really good. There is still a difference between their communication online and their communication in real life, but from the pace at which their relationship seems to be advancing I have a feeling that they are merely going through an adjustment period. An element from their interactions online that I have noticed is their dynamic : Guy often plays cute to get what he wants and initiates the conversations while Tew plays hard to get with short answers and rebuttals, but indulges Guy at every turn. They also seem comfortable teasing each other. The reason I find it interesting is because, well frankly it is really cute, and second because it does not really translate to their interactions in the real world yet. If we assume that talking online is easier and more natural for them both, this implies that as they grow closer and more comfortable, this might be their future dynamic. I look forward to watching it happen.

A thing that I really enjoy is how the actors show how much Guy and Tew enjoy being with one another and talking to one another. When they are chatting online, they have huge smiles on their faces and are barely paying attention to what is happening around them. When they meet each other, they are constantly looking at one another and paying attention to one another. This might seem like a minor element, but it is this kind of things that makes a relationship convincing to me.

The mafia stuff, so far, seems completely separated from the rest of the plot, to the point that I honestly find it a little jarring. I have not been able to get a good reading on Wish John Lennon yet (What does he want? What is his deal with Tew? Why does he look like he chose his clothes randomly?) and a lot of things regarding Tew’s position and involvement are quite blurry to me. We know that he ranks quite high, but we don’t know why and what is his relationship with his boss. I hope we get to see more of it in future episodes, because so far this part of the show has not really impressed me.

And finally, the Wahl Situation. I will be honest, I do not want to hate Wahl. I think characters in his position often end up unjustly maligned both in-show and in the fandom and I really want to give him the benefit of the doubt. In this commentary, it might seem as though I am defending him, but what I really want to do is explain why he might react this way. Because in the end, he is a somewhat immature nineteen year old (at least) who is watching his friend slowly distance himself from his and might not even know why.

That having been said, this episode showed him cross the line between concerned and a little possessive friend to friend who is being inconsiderate and overbearing. I have said in the commentary that he comes across as an over-controlling partner. However in hindsight he actually reacts more like an overprotective parent or elder sibling, with the actions of looking at Guy’s phone, scolding him for his recklessness and being aggressive to people he perceives as a threat. Scolding your friend when they do something reckless is a good thing. Worrying about their safety is also a very good thing. But assuming a position of control and/or supervision without their consent or appreciation is crossing the line. In future episodes, I look forward to seeing two things regarding Wahl : first, how Guy reacts to Wahl’s presence at the park and his actions towards Tew, and second, what exactly is Wahl feeling for Guy and what is his impression of their relationship so far.

So that’s it for episode 2. This commentary ended up way too long and I probably overthink about some things, but I enjoyed writing it. I really look forward to watching the next episode in *check mydramalist* 5 days.

#my dear gangster oppa #thai bl #letmerantinpeace

[anneapocalypse]

On Chantry Inclusiveness

(Warning for discussion of fantasy racism and imperialism.)

I had a conversation a while back with some friends about whether the Chantry saying dwarves don't come from the Maker is like, bad, and personally I think that's kind of complicated.

I should note that we're getting this idea in the first place from the fact that Wynne says, "Oghren is a dwarf. He doesn't really come from the Maker." I'm very hesitant to take this as confirmed Chantry doctrine. Wynne herself is not a very literalist Andrastian--one of the first things she says to the Warden is that she thinks the story of the Magisters and the darkspawn might be allegory rather than history. I'm not sure if there are any other Chantry-aligned characters who we hear make a more definitive statement about this (if there are, please share).

But let's say, for the sake of the argument: what if the Chantry does say that dwarves don't come from the Maker?

Dwarves and humans have never shared a common origin story, so on one level the Chantry not calling dwarves children of the Maker could be read as almost... respectful? Dwarves say "We come from the Stone," and the Chantry doesn't argue with that. I mean, I don't think that would be a magnanimous gesture so much as pragmatic one--the Chantry is reliant upon Orzammar for lyrium for both the mages and the templars under their control, and it behooves them politically not to spit in the face of a vital economic partner.

The dwarves who might object to this framing would be surface dwarves, specifically the subset of surface dwarves who are practicing Andrastians. I'm not sure how many dwarves are Andrastian, but we know there are some. Varric seems to be a quiet but genuine believer. And we know that the Chantry accepts dwarves and even permits them to take vows, like Brother Burkel, the Andrastian dwarf trying to start a Chantry in Orzammar.

An Andrastian dwarf would probably like to hear that they are a child of the Maker. I don't think we have any firsthand accounts of what, exactly, Andrastian dwarves are taught about their place in the world.

But inclusiveness is good, right? It is! For those who wish to be included.

One of Leliana's progressive viewpoints as a potential Divine is that she wants to allow non-humans into the Chantry hierarchy--to become priests and clerics. She wants a more inclusive Chantry... and that's good, right? From a certain view, absolutely. Allowing more diverse voices in Chantry leadership is bound to be transformative in some ways.

But I also think it's important to take into consideration that Leliana wants that inclusion, at least in part, because she is a devout believer who wants more people converted to the Chant. Because however progressive her policies, she still believes that everyone should be converted, because that's how the Maker returns to the world.

Inclusiveness is good for those who wish to be included, but in this context it is also a tool for recruitment.

Like if the Chantry said to traditional dwarves, "Actually you're also children of the Maker, and you have turned from the Maker and must return" (because that's what being a child of the Maker means, inherently, within this framework), is that… better?

I mean, that's exactly what Brother Burkel is saying, when he returns to Orzammar to try to convert his people. Andrastianism (and the Qun) are inherently evangelistic; part of their belief system as practiced is the call for conversion. From a certain angle the Qun is very inclusive; anyone may follow it. Elves, dwarves, and humans can all convert, and they are considered just as Qunari as any qunari. The Chantry "includes" elves--an "inclusion" that historically has manifested as violent suppression of elven culture and pressure to adopt Andrastian beliefs.

Traditional dwarven beliefs, and the present-day Dalish beliefs, are not evangelistic. The Dalish don't even seek to convert other elves, though they sometimes accept them if they come. We have never seen a dwarf going topside to tell humans that they actually come from the Stone, and should turn from their worship of the Maker.

But Brother Burkel is telling dwarves that they are actually children of the Maker, and should abandon their traditional beliefs. And while this seems uncommon, he does presumably have some kind of Chantry sanction for his mission.

Inclusiveness is good--for those who wish to be included. In certain contexts, though, it is also used as both a tool and a justification for recruitment. Whatever the Chantry teaches on this matter is ultimately not about what makes people feel good or bad; it's about what will benefit the growth and continued relevance of the Chantry.

#dragon age meta #dragon age #the chantry #andrastianism #blunders of thedas #i'm sorry i really can't shut up this week

[wordsofmra]

Do we have to spend time inside our mind to find the deviant that hides inside?

Original picture @wordsofmra

I was well into adulthood before I realised I had a deviant hiding inside of me. I thought I knew who I was sexually, what my wants and desires were, but with hindsight, I had no idea. I was trying to live up to some false bravado, not wanting to trail behind my peers and not allowing myself the time to discover who I was on, what I'd call, a primal level.

Is that all it would have taken, spending some time getting to know the deviant that lays dormant inside me? Is it already there, just waiting? Or is it something that develops and can be moulded? 

And ultimately, does everybody have one and if they do, do they know their true deviant?

In my humble opinion, I feel everybody has one. An inner desire that is often never even realised and I think it’s something like the old Native American tale of the two wolves, it needs to be fed in order to grow. As I said before, I was well into adulthood before I truly knew myself, my inner self. When I was first sexually active, I was surrounded by older peers, and I felt the pressure to not be left behind. As they say, hindsight is 20/20 and it’s definitely clearer to see now, that was a mistake. Instead of spending time getting to know myself, I was rushing into fumbling my way through other people and this came at a cost, even much later in my life. But one of the biggest costs, one of the biggest sacrifices was at the expense of my deviant.

Perhaps I should take this time to explain what I mean by deviant. The dictionary definition states that deviant as a noun refers to ‘a deviant person or thing.’ “Killers, deviants, and those whose actions are beyond most comprehension.” As an adjective it describes ‘departing from usual or accepted standards, especially in social or sexual behaviour.’ “Deviant behaviour.” It’s the latter where my meaning of deviant derives but I don’t feel the standards are unusual or unacceptable. I don’t agree that the term deviant needs to come from a place of negativity, in fact, the complete opposite. If you can truly be yourself, your inner-most self, how can that be anything but positive?

I’m also fully aware that “deviant” can be used in a more criminal sense, and I am in no way condoning any criminal activities, sexual or not. When I say deviant, I’m referring to your inner most sexual wants, needs and deepest desires. What really drives you wild? What’s the underlining theme in your fantasies? What do you crave when you close your eyes? This is what I mean and for the most part, everybody’s deviant can be gratified without needing to commit any crimes.

I think another reason it’s usually used in a negative sense is because of the taboo that still surrounds sex and sexual themes. Even though it’s around almost every corner, on some bus-stop advert, or in the palm of your other hand and it’s getting more and more graphic, a lot of people still freak out when you mention something like a butt plug. In my experience, this is from more of a social reaction rather than a true reaction of what they really mean or dare to wonder. All it takes is for one brave person to confidently say “a butt plug doesn’t feel too bad” and a conversation can begin. Often with at least one other person in the group agreeing. But it’s the initial reaction toward the words of a deviant manner that I intend to change, allow people the opportunity to answer truthfully in the first instance, instead of saying what they think they should say. Everybody has a deviant but if you’re not even willing to talk about it, how are you ever going to find someone to explore it with…...and that is the best part.

As well as it being the best part, it’s also quite an important one as well. Trust and acceptance are usually the walls or cages that are put up to hide and protect our deviants so finding someone who accepts you for who you are and who you can truly trust is vital in most cases. In order to get to this point however, you first need to know what it is that’s hiding inside of you, and this is where I think the majority of people go wrong. Either by not allowing themselves the time to discover it or by assuming they already know. To those of you who are lucky enough to already know your true selves, through self-exploration or exploring with a trusted partner, I applaud you but also wonder if perhaps your deviant could grow more? 

As for where our deviants come from, that is a good question. For myself looking back, there was always an element of it in my sexual journey but predominantly when I was on my own instead of with a partner. I can’t recall any defining moment from which it manifested so for as long as I can remember, it’s always being there. I don’t think it was completely set in stone from the outset, I think it’s being able to grow and be moulded by external and internal sources. It can develop, evolve even, into something beyond what your false bravado could have ever even imagined. At least that’s in my experience! I can now say that I do know my true deviant but I’m not entirely sure it’s finished growing, especially when someone else’s deviant compliments it so perfectly, but that’s an article for another time.

I suppose to answer the question in the title; yes, we do need spend time inside our minds to truly find the deviant that hides inside, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be leaving you little bread crumbs along the way.

So, what does this mean for you? It means it’s ok to be you. It’s ok to talk about what really turns you on and if anyone thinks it’s unusual, maybe they’re the ones who are unacceptable…...or perhaps they’re just reacting in the way they think they should. Either way, don’t let that stop you exploring and growing.

Awaken and embrace your inner deviant and start gratifying the desires you both crave.

#wordsofmra #seduction #self awareness #thought provoking #fantasy #love #relationship #seduce me #intimacy #intimate #desire

[czor--t]

So I replayed "The Marble Nest" recently because i had the chance to and... Hell does it really hit. It's such a different experience to me than the base game because of what emotions it makes you experience throughout and after the conclusion.

So Pathologic 2 is incredible ay pressuring you when it comes to time and consequences, there is a lot at stake because you actively participate in the events of the game. You're not just an eyewitness, you are an active part of this bustling world. And sometimes having this overloaded city to traverse you don't have much time to stop and think about the little things during your strolls back and forth to achieve the best possible outcome. It is filled to the brim with content and dialogue, it is an immersive and beautiful game.

But Marble Nest is not really your story, no. A mere mare (so to speak) of a dying character that wishes that he had done something earlier. Better. But he is unable to. You participate in the events of the day but you are put in your place by the characters constantly mentioning that you either are, or you were suppised to be dead. It's daunting when it doesn't happen once, but twice, and then another time again - and if you have never played TMN before - you have no idea why that is. The narrative is woven in a way that you's expect it - the Pathologic games are specifically known for their metaphysical tangents and supernatural occurances, as well ass odd dream sequences.

Notice how the first day of the Haruspex playthrough starts with a wierd dream. So does the Marble Nest - but whereas Artemy wakes up from the dream and proceeds to go about his life, albeit a hard one - Daniil never wakes up. He is trapped in this endless cycle of reliving the day and effectively - you are his delusion, you don't guide his hands, you are unable to control them.

He is in a heavy state of delirium - the reality of The Marble Nest is grim, with a lot of the people of importance dead. And you cannot do anything about it. You are a dying man - on his wits end, talking to the dead, rolling in his sleep, hot with fever and pale like swamp mud. The fact that the voices you hear around stillwater are not the voice of Eva Yan - who is already long gone (and by the same means as in the original - suggested by the tragedian in the Cathedral) but they are voices of Sticky, and others gathered around your deathbead. Trying to reach you but coming out as gibberish - and you as a renowed doctor are unable to understand it. Because of course you are.

Peter is dead - and the map tells you that Andrey is alive as long as his brother is. Artemy is dead. And you are the sole person responsible for not keeping the isolated districts safe - how much of a burden that is. And how big of a relief you feel when you're given a second chance. How naive.

It calls back to the quote that Artemy hears from executors at the beginning of his run

Once there was a man who wanted to fix everything. He begged on bended knee for a chance to turn back time... And when he got it, history repeated itself. "Good job," we told him. "That's your fate." He asked us, "Once more?".

The overall mood of Marble Nest, even if you van possibly reverse the consequence and somehow conquer death is very bittersweet.

The OST is never aggressive - it's calm and peaceful. It makes the playthrough serene. The dialogues feel like a long lost memory, warmth left after something familiar but long forgotten. You are walking around like a child in the fog and ultimately, whatever you do - you never succeed. The heart. The nuts. Even if you feel like you got this you don't.

I wanted to write this down because somehow when i finished this extension my heart felt really heavy but i felt... Good. Can't say that I did not cry, because of course I did - the conversation with Sticky is one that hurts deep inside and makes one feel chills. But most of all I think that this small bit of a game is written really beautifully, especially considering how we as players identify Daniil as a character. By the end of it you become his thoughts - even if you are never his hands to begin with. You can feel how scared he is, how everything is slipping away and how he loses. And you can read very well how

Oh how much

He hates losing.

#pathologic2 #marble nest #the marble nest #just some loose thoughts #started crying while writing it i love this extension sm

[idkwhatimdoingbutpersonal]

My unwanted opinions on Lizzo, Doja Cat and Ariana Grande.

Celebrity culture will be the death of me, truly, but the way some of y’all talk about these HUMAN BEINGS is making my brain melt just a little bit.

Lizzo ⏬️

Stop using this situation as an excuse to say that body positivity and anti-racism is bad. What the hell are you going on about? It’s getting embarrassing + takes credit away from people who are genuinely saying sensical things about the suit and allegations.

This suit is not as serious as others, but her actions still need to be addressed. You’re allowed to not like Lizzo, but if your reasoning is ‘she’s fat’ then you need to leave. At the end of the day, we weren’t there to witness any of these allegations take place, so we’ll never know, but that doesn’t mean that I think she’s innocent.

To my knowledge (correct wherever I am wrong), the fat shaming was implied and not directly stated and may or may not have been about weight gain affecting performances which can be incredibly uncomfortable to experience and have these things said by an employer. The sexual harassment was awful and Lizzo has forgotten boundaries. And the Christian shaming… yeah that lady (the choreographer who was pressuring people into following her person beliefs) should’ve been fired faster. There are choreographers everywhere. Also it has been said (I think) that this suit was made because Lizzo fired these women who made the allegations without reasoning.

I don’t wanna say this suit is unserious, but it could have been solved with a conversation (which is MUCH easier said than done considering power imbalances). I’m sure they tried a conversation and it didn’t work, so here we are.

We can only watch and see what happens. But stop using this as an excuse to hate people for things they can’t control. This is ridiculous and some people are incredibly immature. Fun fact: Fat people and Black people can be bad. Cuz they’re like… humans. Don’t act like this is proof that all fat people and all Black people are evil. So………… do with that what you will.

Either way, this woman needs to be held accountable, learn boundaries and have some respect for herself and the people around her and so does everyone else cuz this is an industry thing that needs to be addressed. Give everyone, especially these dang employees, a BREAK!

Doja ⏬️

This woman is so obviously going through it. Doja Cat has consistently shown how much she dislikes herself (sorry to come off blunt but 🤷🏾‍♀️).

Idk what everyone’s goal is with Doja Cat. She’s allowed to not like her art, it happens.

I think all of this attack on Doja stems from toxic celebrity culture and forgetting that musical artists are ARTISTS FIRST AND FOREMOST.

As an artist, there are times where you hate your art. Where you question why anyone else liked it. It happens. She doesn’t seem like someone who wanted to be a celebrity, she wanted to be successful in doing what she loves. I think it’s unfair to say you have to give up your humanity to follow your calling.

Everyone’s a mental health advocate and wants mercy whenever they start to act out because you’re struggling, but so many aren’t willing to give that mercy out.

She is obviously online way too much.

Plus, with the tiny chat things and this hating her art thing, how are y’all gonna hate her for hating herself? What’s the goal here? Doja needs a support system and therapy. All this is not helping. She’s not our responsibility, understandably, but some people are making it their goal to antagonize her. She needs to get off of Twitter and so do you.

You’re allowed to say ‘welp, don’t like her or her actions so I won’t engage’. Entirely your prerogative and you’re decision but this is getting blown out of proportion.

I don’t wanna touch on that satanic panic stuff, it’s weird. Just stop pretending like all bald women have the devil in them.

ONTO THE MORE IMPORTANT STUFF THATS SIMPLY NOT GETTING AS MUCH COVERAGE AS THE OTHER LITTLE THINGS: her working with dr luke and her (alleged) rapist boyfriend. Talk about this one more. This is an issue.

Ariana ⏬️

This whole situation is literally no one’s business. She’s a cheater and the other woman. Nothing new. It’s bad, obviously, and incredibly hurtful, but this has nothing to do with us and everything to do with Ariana and her partner(s).

I think some just want an excuse to attack someone. Ariana needs to figure this out, we shouldn’t even know about any of this or try getting involved. This is all her and very personal. She’s unfaithful and has hurt peoples feelings… what does that have to do with us?

It’s your decision whether or not you wanna support her, but is it that serious? None of us should know any of this info. Stop trying to be so involved in other peoples’ lives that you hardly know.

I’m not going to minimize her unfaithfulness, but dang how is this any of our business? Personal issue she needs to deal with.

Overall? Stop idolizing people, be kinder and get offline for your sake ❤️ (this isn’t supposed to be like sarcastic or mean sorry if it comes off that way lol).

EDIT: Tee Noir made a great video on the Lizzo situation. Better than I could so -> https://youtu.be/QDqBB8GxvcE

#ariana grande #doja cat #lizzo #lizzo lawsuit #shlayed fr #yeah um anyway

[growup-thatbeautiful]

hellooo, hi, im not sick anymore (more or less) and in surprisingly great spirits! i was thinking, if you wanted to write more Zeffirelli and absolutely and i mean ABSOLUTELY no pressure maybe we could have some sort of university themed kinda fic? not an AU just kind of widening the lens of The French dispatch to see Zeffirelli as a students not just his after school activities. im thinking like a philosophy student poet boyfriend x art and film theory painter reader kinda situation. studying and going to interesting lectures and to cinema in the evenings..idk it would be lovely to have some nice uni vibes to motivate me. also if you don't feel Zeffirelli now Timothee himself would be very much okay too i feel like. it is all up to you. sending you great energy, love you, message me if you want to brainstorm this story or want to talk literally about anything xx

omg hiiii!!! it’s fall now!! zeffirelli would be living his best life. i was really missing zeffirelli and timmy. timothee always renters my brain this time of year so be prepared. it’s movie szn brainrot time, my friends.

coincidentally enough, this happens to be my 700th follower celebration as well! yay!

uhhh so usually i write the translations at the bottom but i didn’t keep up this time i’m so sorry 😭😭

zeffirelli masterlist

ensoleillement (sunshine)

“You’re late,” you say, looking at the clock in the corner of your living room.

“I brought compensation.” Zeffirelli holds up a brown paper bag from the pastry shop down the street as an apology. “There's a pain au chocolat in there for you. I also got you a coffee.”

“I hope it’s not in the bag,” you respond drily, but take the bag nonetheless and rifle around for your breakfast. “Where’s the coffee?”

“Here,” he says absently, placing it on the kitchen counter.

“Dieu merci,” you sigh, taking a sip and shouldering your bag. The leather strap digs into your shoulder through the fabric of your coat.

“Thank me, not God,” Zeffirelli complains, ushering you out the door.

“You’re still the reason I’m late.” There’s a warning in your voice, but you can’t put any real venom behind your words. You never can, with him.

“Oui, but you’re not going to any important classes right now.”

“I’m going to math,” you protest. He reaches across you and takes your coffee, sipping it and grimacing. You slap his hand away and retake the coffee. “No matter how much you try, you aren’t going to like the way I have my coffee.”

“That’s because you have terrible taste,” he complains. “Why are still taking those bullshit classes? There are so many better classes to take.” It’s a conversation you’ve had many times, mostly out of jest, but there is some seriousness behind it.

“You mean math?”

Zeffirelli hums. “That’s the one. Why would you waste your time with math when you could be going to philosophy at noon?”

“Because I’m not some poet revolutionary, Zef,” you laugh, bumping your shoulder with his. “Not everyone is as successful as you.”

“Nonsense. You just haven’t shared any of your ideas with other people. Come on, amor, let me know what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“Right now there are a few things, but I don’t think you want to hear them,” you deadpan, gathering your books in your arms.

“Don’t get shy on me now, ensoleillement.” The endearment falls easily from his lips, his favorite term for you, meaning, quite literally, sunshine.

Ironically, you got the nickname on a rainy day when you had been giving him a hard time about his tendency to walk in the rain.

“I have nothing to say to you,” you reply, knocking your shoulder against his as you both try to go out the same door to the street below your apartment.

“All that math is filling your brain with nonsense,” he complains, his shoes scraping against the worn hardwoods. “I can’t have a good philosophical conversation with a mathematician.”

“Just because I’m taking the class doesn’t make me good at it,” you correct absentmindedly. He huffs and steps into pace beside you, his hand brushing against yours. The autumn leaves crunch under your feet, warm red and orange bleeding past as you make your way to class, the air crisp and the sun slinking behind the clouds. You really should be trying to make it to class on time, but you know you’ll regret it if you leave Zeffirelli out here alone with that rosy color on his cheeks from the cool air. Fall suits him well, and he wears the chill running through your fingers well.

It’s better to be here, your hands skimming against his, knuckles red and electric when he touches them than it is to be sitting in a class. Especially because he isn’t in the class.

The walk to your school isn’t much further. Just through the town sits a two-storied brick building where you’ve devoted hours to studying, crying, and trying to get Zeffirelli to take breaks unsuccessfully.

The cobblestones underneath your feet are consistently unsteady, and you find yourself, as usual, looking in awe at the quaint town that wakes up as you walk through.

There’s the flower shop on the corner with the green and white striped awning that gives out free roses on holidays. Next to it, stands a stationary store where you go more days than not to get a hand-pressed piece of paper to write home on. Across the street is a cafè where you and Zeffirelli have spent countless sleepless nights discussing movies and poetry when you should be studying,

This isn’t your hometown, and it isn’t his either, but you both know it more than you ever could know any other place on Earth. Zeffirelli’s American rouge, prophetic attitude couldn’t come from a town this small, but that doesn’t stop it from thriving. Here, nothing can stop him. Not living with his parents, which he does on purpose, or not knowing how to start a manifesto. Those things are trivial and unimportant because this place reveres every waking and sleeping moment it has with him. You and

You, well, you can’t claim this place as your home, but you’ve fallen in love with its poetically simple lifestyle. The two years you’ve been here as an exchange student has been the best you can remember, and you aren’t sure how much of that is related to the boy next to you.

A gut instinct tells you that he might have something to do with it, but you would be drawn into the charm of this town anyway, probably. He’s just an added bonus.

Zeffirelli takes the cup of coffee out of your hand and tosses it into the trashcan before you enter the towering, gray stone building that is your school.

“I’ll see you at lunch?” he asks, walking backward down the opposite hall that you’re traveling. “My mom packed cookies.”

A laugh bubbles from your throat and you can tell you’re grinning like a fool. You genuinely don’t know if he’s joking or not, but you don’t doubt the truth of his words. “I can’t even make fun of you because your mom’s cookies are so good.”

“That’s the sweet spot.” His arms are outstretched wildly as he turns back to go to his class. “I’ll see you later, amor. Don’t have too much fun in math without me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Zef.” There’s still a grin on your face when you walk into class, and you take your seat next to your’s and Zeffirelli’s friend, Mitch Mitch.

Mitch is radically passionate like Zeffirelli, but, as obvious by his presence in a math class, he’s less utterly devoted to the revolution. Which is to say that he’s still deeply invested.

“Did l'auteur make you late again?” Mitch reaches over you and slides today’s work to you. “I swear, you need to stop waiting for him in the mornings.”

“He did indeed.” You lean back in your chair and try to listen to the lecture, and you think you retain about half of the information.

The teacher at the front of the room drones on for half an hour about something you don’t understand, not that you care enough to pay attention. Despite the nature of his ideas, Zefrilli is correct about the fact that math isn’t your thing, nor is it going to help you at all. Especially not when you don’t have a clue what’s going on. Based on the look on Mitch’s face, he understands even less than you do, which is comforting and terrifying at the same time.

“Why did you convince me to take this class?” Mitch groans, flopping onto the desk and banging his head on the wood. “I’m too pretty for math.”

“I don’t think that has anything to do with it.” You pat him on the shoulder consolingly and gather your things together.

“Peut être pas, but it makes me feel better about myself.” You walk side-by-side to the next class. You have film studies with Zefirelli and Mitch has some economic class.

Zefirelli is waiting by the door for you, and, when he sees you, he pushes himself off the frame and asks, “How was the waste of time?”

“It was a waste of time,” Mitch confirms, bumping shoulders with Zefirelli, who looks at you for confirmation, which you readily give.

“Let’s do something worthwhile then, mon chéri.” Zefirelli holds out his arm for you, and you take it easily. “To the magical world of film we go.”

“Onwards we go.”

*

Lunch doesn’t come soon enough, but, slowly, it comes. Mitch, Zefirelli, and you usually eat together, but today Mitch is going to the cafe down the street with a girl in your class named Layla. She’s sweet, and you hope she’s enough for Mitch.

You and Zefirelli find your normal spot in the corner of a courtyard hidden away in the twisted cobblestone streets. It’s nothing special, just a park bench pretty much, but you wouldn’t eat anywhere else. Not when Zefirelli is sitting close to you.

“What are you writing about?” he asks, leaning over your shoulder to try and read the words in your journal.

“How much I hate math,” you deflect, shutting the small spiral and stuffing it into your backpack.

“That’s not what looks like when you write about something as trivial as math. I’ve seen your math face, and it is much more détestable.”

“You’re telling me that you don’t write enthusiastically about math?” you joke, hoping to deflect the attention.

“Only about my manifesto.”

“Yeah, well you have your manifesto, and I have my movie.” It slips out easily like things usually do around him. You’re so used to telling him everything, so it comes as no school that you’re unable to keep this from him.

The thing is, he isn’t supposed to know about the movie you’re writing. Not because he wouldn't support it, which you’re sure he would, but because there’s no doubt in your mind that he wouldn’t let you hear the end of it. You try to backtrack. “I mean, I have the movie that I’m studying for class-“

“-You’re writing a movie?” he interrupts, his hand frozen where it’s reaching for his food. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I’m not writing a movie,” you attempt. “It was a slip of the tongue. Fourchement de langue.”

“No it wasn’t,” he denies easily. “You’re writing a movie.” This time he doesn’t ask, but he does return to his previous action, splitting the pink-colored cookie in half. He offers one half to you and you take it. You decide not to respond and focus on the cookie instead.

“So, what is this secretive movie about? Hopefully something dashingly bohemian and revolutionary.” You know he’s tuning down his excitement for you, which is nice. At least he’s trying. Hopefully, he knows that you would never keep something like this from him if you weren’t embarrassed.

“Those are your interests, not mine,” you sigh, despite the deception behind your words. Truly, you do care about those things, maybe only because he cares so much about them.

“Yeah? Then why do you work with me on my manifesto so much?” he prods, a grin on his face. Everything about him screams “got you” and you have no choice but to accept his meaning.

“Maybe I like being around you, connasse.”

“That could not possibly be it,” he dismisses easily. His cookie gets placed on the floor beside him and he leans into you, his head coming to rest on your shoulder. “You’re much too talented to be hanging around me all the time.”

“You can’t be serious,” you chastise, your hand running through his hair. “Zef, you’re the most talented person I know. Not only are you some sort of chess wizard, but you also have such a passion for life that I don’t see anyone else. I’m lucky to be around you as much as I am, honestly.”

“You’re just saying that,” he sighs, but there’s a blush rising to his cheeks that fits him so beautifully.

“We’re poets, Zefirell, we only say things that we mean.” He leans heavier into your side and you relax against him, taking his weight happily. The rest of the world passes by, and time passes by, but you don’t care. This is where you want to be, by his side.

You would lift the sky for him, but right now all he needs is a shoulder to lean on. It’s something you’re ready and willing to give.

“You know,” Zefirelli starts, “there are stories about people like us. You know, people that want to change the world. Usually, they have someone by their side, a second-in-command. Napoleon had Josephine, Pierre Curry had Marrie, Sintra had Garder.”

“I think it be more reasonable to say that Marrie had Pierre, given that she was the one who did most of the research. And you’re forgetting that Sinatra and Gardner broke up after 12 years.”

“But she was the only woman he ever loved. Come on, amore, you know that. Anyway, what I was trying to say-” he looks up at you, smiling softly- “before I was so rudely interrupted, is that most people have someone beside them when they start their journey sur le chemin de la révolution. The road to revolution can be lonely.”

“Everything must start in love,” you agree. “Nothing comes out of nothing.”

“Précisément. Would- would you like to be my second-in-command? We have a long way ahead of us, and I think it would be easier if we stuck together.”

“How am I supposed to say no to that?” you breathe, laying your head on top of his and reaching for his hand. “Promise you won’t leave me for someone more antagonistic?”

“You’re enough of an antagonist for me,” he responds in an overly-sweet voice. “Not sure I could handle much more.”

“Good. I prefer you waking me up in the middle of the night rather than anyone else.” You also prefer his head on your shoulder, his hand in your hand, and his figure in your bed, but those are things you keep to yourself for now.

You’ve already got enough of a win for today.

*

A banging on your door is an unfortunately common event to wake you up. Without checking, you know who’s on the other side of the door. That messy black hair and those piercing eyes are waiting impatiently for you to make your way across your cramped apartment, you’re positive of it.

The floor is cold underneath your socked feet as you make your way over the piles of books, papers, and clothes strewn everywhere across your room. While the trek is short, to your sleep-addled brain it feels like it lasts forever, with you in a dreamlike state of confusion and agitation. You can hear the sound of rain pounding against your apartment roof, a steady rhythm in time with your slow breathing.

With a deep breath, you open your door and you’re met with the familiar, tall form of Zeffirelli. “I have an idea for the revolution,” he says, out of breath, soaked from the rain. “And I need your cinematic expertise.”

“So that’s why you’re at my apartment at three in the morning?” you ask, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Yes. And it’s only two,” he says as he brushes past you and goes straight to your tiny kitchen. Absentmindedly, he rifles through your counters and grabs the first food he finds; some untrustworthy brown biscuits. You don’t take any when he offers. “I needed to talk to you. Son affaire sérieuse.”

“Right, I’m sure it is. Tell me, what exactly do you need my help with? I’m not sure I can be of much help.” You shuffle into the kitchen and put a kettle on the stove, accepting the fact that you’re probably not going to get any sleep tonight.

“Absurdité. Who else is going to shut down my best ideas ruthlessly?”

“I would do that in daylight too,” you accuse. He fits beside you at your counter and reaches across you for the sugar bowl, taking a sugar cube and putting it in your cup. Two more are added to the cup that he’s claimed as his own from your array of delicately painted teacups.

“But you admit to having shut down good ideas?” A twinkle in his eyes tells you to give up now and accept your defeat.

“Sure.” It’s worth it to see the victory smile break across his face, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth. “I am obviously the bane of your existence. Je suis ta couverture mouillée.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself.” His consolidation is quick and filled with a teasing lightness that you’ve long since accepted as his trademark. A lot of people would look past him for it, and call it arrogance, but you know it comes from a loving place.

“Don’t make me send you to Mitch Mitch’s apartment instead,” you warn, waving a spoon in his direction. “I would do it in a heartbeat.” It’s not true, you would much rather he be here with you, instead of at Mitch’s. Despite the entertainment that comes with Zefirelli and Mitch’s back and forth, you’re feeling selfish tonight.

“Empty threats.” he tisks. The kettle whistles from its spot on the stove and you both reach for it at the same time, your fingers brushing against his. It’s terrifyingly electric, but you push past the feeling. Zefirelli withdraws his hand hesitantly and you busy yourself with pouring the tea.

He’s come over in the middle of the night enough for you to know how he takes his tea by heart. Two heaping spoonfuls of sugar, no more, no less. He claims that you make it better than he does, which you choke up to him being unable to boil water without making a mess.

Clearing your throat, you ask, “So, what’s this big idea? Care to fill me in on why I’m awake at this time of the night.”

“What’s your movie about?” he fires back immediately, settling into your beaten blue couch.

“Did you come here to pester me about my future?” you ask, eyes narrowed. “Because I will kick you to the curb.”

“No, no,” he laughs, “you wouldn’t do that to me. You have no resistance to my pretty face.”

“Ah, yes, you’ve figured out my one weakness. It seems as though you’ll be taking advantage of it forever.”

“Of course, ensoleillement. What would I do if I didn’t have you to manipulate?” He sits across from you on the couch and grabs one of the blankets you have thrown around. It goes over his shoulders and he huddles into its warmth.

“So what did you come here to talk about?” you ask, taking a sip from your tea and placing it on the side table.

“Oh, right!” His eyes light up as he sits up straighter, splashing tea all over himself. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to care very much. “I thought that I would have my mother’s friend, some writer, is coming into town soon. I was thinking that I should ask her to help me. At the least, she can write about us, no? What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea. What does she write for?”

“The French Dispatch. You know, the one with all the stories they put out once a month or so. I hear that she’s looking for something out here in our petite ville.”

The conversation shifts and he talks about his big ideas and how he’s going to get them done. You could listen to him talk for hours, and, by the time he’s finished, you have, not that you have anything better to do. Not even dreams of him are this real. You could never make up in your mind the way his eyes sparkle and his hands flutter with excitement, or the way his hair falls in front of his face when he’s moving too fast.

Eventually, sleep takes him over, comically mid-sentence. He’s propped up against the side of the couch in a very uncomfortable looking way, but he doesn’t seem to mind. You’ve known him to fall asleep in worse situations,

When his breathing stills and his eyes close, you allow yourself to look at him as he is without fluttering hands and excited eyes. He’s calm and motionless, except for the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Everything about him is usually coiled for action, an easy tension running through his hands and his eyes, but now, now he’s undistributed and serene, laying with his hair splayed like a dark halo around his head.

Before you close your eyes, you tuck yourself close to him, fitting against his warmth like you’ve done so many times in the past, just like this, on deep-silence-ridden nights.

“You’re my movie,” you whisper into the dark, towards his sleeping figure. “You’re the one I write about.”

But of course, he doesn’t hear.

*

“Medre,” Zeffirelli swears, hopping around and trying to get his shoes on. “I have a test today.”

“You should have thought of that before you came over that early,” you admonish, watching him with amusement. “Why you didn’t think you would oversleep, I have no clue.”

“We’re in this class together, ensoleillement. You’re going to burn with me,” he warns, rushing a hand through his hair carelessly. It sticks up widely in every direction, but you know better than to try to fix it. Nothing can convince his hair to do anything except chaos.

“Yeah, but it’s so much more fun not to think about that.” Begrudgingly, you start to get ready as well. The floors creak under your feet as you shuffle to your bedroom, where a clean outfit is nowhere to be found.

For a moment, you let yourself think of the wild-haired, cigarette-smoking, arrogant person in the room next to you. His infuriating charm and charismatic persuasion captured you years ago, and you haven’t been able to get out of his orbit since then.

You may be his sunshine, but he’s your gravity, keeping you centered but tipping you over and surprising you at times.

“Dépêchez-vous,” Zeffirelli calls, rapping his knuckles against the wall. “Hurry up.” You know he doesn’t really care about making it to class on time, despite the panic, but you also know that he understands you well enough to know that you want to make it on time.

The film class you have this morning is one of your favorites, and you try and avoid missing it as much as you can. While your film studies class is more focused on the aspects of film, this class advises it’s students on the writing and cinematography that you need to make something truly special.

To make something worthy of a manifesto.

“Mon chéri, we have to go,” Zefirelli warns one last time before giving up and aimlessly wondering around your room.

“Don’t touch that,” you sigh, not having to look at Zeffirelli to know that he’s touching something he shouldn’t be touching. When you do look over, you see him flipping through your journal.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” Zeffirelli defends, hiding something behind his back. You send a glare in his direction and lean back in the chair by your mirror. The wood creaks underneath you and you stretch out your back, satisfying pops cascading up your spine.

“You have some deep dark secrets written in here?” His tone is joking, and he waves the journal in the air, taunting you.

“Grocery lists and middle-of-the-night thoughts,” you dismiss. “If you want to know when I forgot to pay the electricity bill, look on the fifth page.” You hope with everything you have that he’s going to let it go, but you have no such luck. He’s nothing if not absurdly relentless.

“I know for a fact that you don’t write anything like that down, it’s not worth the time. You just forget things like the rest of us.”

“Peut être. Still, put it down.” He doesn’t. Instead, he keeps reading with a grin on his face that slowly falls as he makes his way through the rest of the book.

“Is this- is this written about me?” he asks, disbelief written on his face. “Is this your movie?”

“I asked you to stop reading,” you defend miserably, hiding your head in your hands. “I know it’s strange, and I know I shouldn’t be writing about you like that. You don’t want to be heroic or some great leader, above everyone else, but I cannot help it if that’s who you are. Please understand, I only wrote what I saw.”

“I’m your movie? I’m what you have been furiously scribbling away at, working on late at night?”

“You’re my everything,” you admit honestly, softly, “How could you not be the plot of my movie too?” Zeffirelli walks slowly towards you and drops the journal on the floor. “I’m sorry, Zeffirelli.”

“Why?” he asks breathlessly, standing in between your legs and settling his hands on your shoulders. “What have you to be sorry for? You have immortalized be forever with your words. How can I be anything but grateful. If- if I ever gave you the idea that I do not burn for you- that I do not turn towards you in every room like you are the sun and I am a flower, then I can do nothing but apologize profusely. There is more than one reason that you are my ensoleillement. You are grumpy and rude and you give me shit for everything I do, but you also light up my days and nights. You are warmth and home. You are everything.” Zeffirelli’s voice is breathless and rushed, his hands coming up to cup your face. They’re shaky and the calluses on his fingertips are rough against your cheekbones, but you lean into them anyway.

“Zef,” you whisper, like it’s the only word you know. Just as soft as his words, his lips come down to yours, hesitantly at first, but more sure as you don’t protest.

He truly is your everything. That’s the only thing running through your mind as he kisses you with everything he has.

“We’re going to be late to your favorite class,” he gasps in between frantic kisses. “Don’t be angry at me when you have extra homework.”

“I make no promises,” you laugh, pulling him back into you. “But I’ll try my best.” For him, you’ll do anything.

He’s your ensoleillement, your sunshine, just as you’re his.

#tfd #you may be asking me why he’s using french endearments if he’s american and the answer is bc i like them more and also we were cheated #(lovingly bc i adore the movie) from timmy speaking french <33 #the french dispatch #french dispatch #zeffirelli #zeffirelli tfd #tfd zeffirelli #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #zeffirelli x reader #zeffirelli x you #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet fic #zeffirelli fic #zeffirelli fanfic #timothee x reader #timothee x you #timmy #nova writes