#i'm so frustrated i should probably give up drawing for good

[cosmicanakin]

full of surprises.

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

pairing. vinnie hacker x female reader.

outline. helping vinnie in the garage, your knowledge, and skills with cars over the years come to surface, unveiling a secret you'd kept hidden.

contains. fluff, explicit language, smut, thigh riding, fingering, pinv, & breeding kink mentioned.

authors note. while i was scrolling through pinterest, i fell down a rabbit hole of photos of vinnie working on cars. and it inspired me to write. <3

the soft clanking and muttered curses drifting from the garage pull you away from your mindless scrolling on your phone. you glance at the clock, noticing it's past midnight already. vinnie told you he'd be done working on his by now but it seems he's hit another snag in repairs.

sighing, you slide off the couch and pad down the hallway. vinnie's bent over the open hood distractedly turning a wrench, smears of grease decorating his gray tank top and forearms in a way that makes your heart flutter. you admire his toned physique for a moment, always loving when he gets hands on.

“any luck, babe?” you ask softly, not wanting to startle him. vinnie jerks up with a grimace, rubbing the back of his neck. “ah, no not yet. this damn fuel pump is being a real pain in my ass. i've replaced every other part but it just won't prime right.”

he kicks the tire in frustration earning a soft chuckle from you. striding over, you stand on your tiptoes to peer into the engine compartment. years spent helping your dad under the hoods of countless vehicles have given you more than a casual understanding.

“mind if i take a look?” you inquire, already sliding some gloves from the table beside you. vinnie gapes at you in disbelief. “i had no idea you knew about cars, babe,” disbelief colors his tone but you can also detect a hint of thrill at discovering another layer to you.

“my dad always said it's a good skill for any woman to have. now scoot over, let me see what's going on.” vinnie readily obliges, interest overtaking his previous annoyance as you step into his place. running an analytical eye, you soon spot the issue.

“ah, there's your problem. the fuel filter is badly clogged, no wonder it can't draw fuel properly. just needs a replacement, should clear it right up.” you declare confidently, removing the filter to examine. vinnie peers over your shoulder in amazement.

“damn baby girl, you never cease to surprise me. i'm seriously so impressed right now, you've got me feeling all kinds of things.” he purrs against your ear, hands sliding around your waist from behind. a shiver runs down your spine at his breath on your skin but you maintain focus, humming thoughtfully.

“flattery will get you everywhere mister, now hand me the socket so i can get this fixed,” you demand gently, holding a hand back expectantly. vinnie hurriedly passes you the tool, enthralled by your take-charge demeanor. within minutes the new filter is installed and you're reassembling the compartment.

flicking your gloves away, you turn to face vinnie's adoring gaze with a smile. “alright big man, give her a start, and let's see if that did the trick.” he grins, pressing a swift kiss to your lips in thanks before jumping into the driver's seat.

the cars roars to life on the first try, rumbling smoothly without any hiccups. vinnie whoops loudly, leaning out the window with glee. “fuck baby, you're amazing! that was the perfect fix. come here, i gotta give you a proper reward.”

giggling, you allow vinnie to tug you into his lap as he's sat in the driver's seat. his mouth latches onto your neck desperately, hands roaming your sides. “i'm so turned on by how smart and skilled you are. drives me crazy knowing you could probably rebuild this engine from scratch if you wanted,” he growls between kisses.

heat pools low in your belly at his adoring praise. you slide his hands up under your shirt, craving his touch. “mhm, maybe i will someday just to watch you swoon. but for now...” twisting, you capture vinnie's lips hungrily.

he sighs into the kiss, deepening it instantly as his tongue delves between your parted lips. you rock against his firm thigh. vinnie groans, hands gripping your hips to guide your movements.

“fuck, i need you so bad y/n. let's take this inside, i wanna worship your perfect body properly.” he breathes heavily, pupils blown wide with want. you nod eagerly, already scrambling from his lap toward the house. vinnie follows, hastily towing you the rest of the way by your wrist.

as soon as the bedroom door clicks shut he's pinning you against it feverishly. your shirt disappears followed by his as he assaults your collarbone with rough kisses and nips. a gasp escapes your throat, grabbing handfuls of his hair to encourage the delicious treatment.

vinnie hikes your legs around his waist, lifting as if you weigh nothing at all. the hard line of his erection presses relentlessly against your core through the multiple layers still separating you, seeking friction. you grind down needily, desperate for more contact.

“slow down, baby, ‘m not going anywhere,” he pants, carrying you to the bed and laying you out like a feast. vinnie quickly divests the rest of your clothing, gazing in awe at your naked form beneath him.

“so perfect, and all mine.” his worshipping words steal your breath, stomach clenching deliciously. when his mouth latches onto a pert nipple to suckle, you cry out loudly at the exquisite sensation.

vinnie takes his time lavishing each breast and curve of your body with wet kisses and love bites, mapping every sensitive spot until you're writhing and begging for more. finally his fingers dip to your dripping core, circling your swollen clit teasingly.

“fuck vinnie!” you babble, back arching off the mattress at his feather light touches. he chuckles darkly, sinking two digits into your cunt. “you take my fingers so well babygirl. bet you'll feel even better wrapped around my cock though, what do you think?”

a choked moan is your only response, eyes rolling back as he pumps his fingers leisurely. vinnie slowly adds a third, stretching your entrance deliciously full. his thumb rolls firm circles over your clit in time, driving you to the edge at an agonizing pace.

just as your orgasm begins to crest, he removes his hand entirely leaving you keening. vinnie stands to remove the last of his clothing, hard length jutting proudly from his slender hips. the sight alone could make you cum but he hasn't given permission yet.

crawling back over you, vinnie slots his cock against your dripping entrance and leans down to claim your mouth in a filthy kiss. “gonna make you feel so good y/n, fuck you senseless until you can't remember your name. that's what you want isn't it?”

you whimper desperately, nodding fervently against his lips. “please, i want to feel you so deep inside me. use me as rough as you like, i'm yours baby.” his restraint snaps, and with one powerful thrust, he's fully seated to the hilt within your clenching heat.

you cry out loudly at the relentless stretch, walls spasming deliciously around his girth. vinnie groans deeply, staying locked in place to adjust before beginning a punishing rhythm of hard, deep strokes. his hips snap violently, balls slapping your swollen flesh with each impact.

all you can do is hold on for dear life, nails raking down his sweat slicked back as he fucks you into oblivion. vinnie pistons his hips with animalistic drives, pounding directly into your most sensitive spots unerringly. a constant litany of filthy praises tumble from his pretty lips, only spurring you nearer the edge.

“fuck you look gorgeous taking my fat cock sweet girl, your pussy was made for me i swear. gonna fill you up, have your belly swollen with my babies, you want that pretty girl? want me to come inside you while i fuck my name out of that beautiful mouth?”

the depraved imagery plunges you over at last, walls constricting vinnie's member in a vice grip. your orgasm tears through you with ruthless intensity, eyes rolling back as you scream his name. he chases his own release, fucking you through the aftershocks until spilling deep within your quivering channel with a guttural groan.

collapsing together in a sweaty heap, you trade sloppy kisses and whispered ‘i love you's’ while coming down from ecstasy. vinnie curls around your sated form protectively, pressing sweet affection into any skin he can reach.

“you never cease to amaze me y/n. i love how full of surprises you are, constantly keeping me on my toes. and damn do i love when you take charge like that, so fucking hot.” he sighs contentedly, nuzzling your hair.

#﹙ kari writes 𝜗𝜚 ﹚ #vinnie #vinnie hacker #vinniehacker #vhackerr #vincent hacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie smut #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie imagines #vinnie hacker x female reader #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie x female reader #vinnie x reader #vinnie x y/n #vinnie imagine #vinnie blurb #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie fanfic

[rafescurtainbangz]

You and maybank in the shower after surfing. yn not oc. I know you dont do oc. thankk you love your jj/rafe ex post

Here is a little blurb from a one shot of mine. Thank you for your ask. Probably going to write another shower one shot with JJ soon because the thought of it is so 🫠🤭😩

Thank you for your ask!!

JJ x Girlfriend Female!Reader

Shower sex, unprotected p in v, oral (male receiving), shower head stuff, squirting, pet names, mutual teasing, softdom!jj, overstimulation

Y/N's POV:

"Were you thinking about doin' this," He taunts. "Were you dreamin' about me all wet and sexy like?" JJ whispers, fighting back a laugh, but he's not wrong.

"'Course I was," you whisper, tugging his hair as you kiss him deeply.

"My girl." His tongue slips between your pout, rolling slowly as you moan softly into your kiss.

He turns the handle, water spilling from the head, still cold, leaving you the perfect amount of time to play. Your lips meet his neck, a soft kiss, feeling his heartbeat under your lips. You palm his cock; rolling your fingers gently over the fabric. He moans deeply, vibrating against your lips.

You work a little lower, JJ, setting you down as you kiss and trace his toned chest and abs, working to your knees. Your fingers run softly against the indentations of his v-lines, making his muscles flex. You smile up at him sinfully, catching your fingers under the band of his shorts; pulling them to his feet. You watch as his aching cock springs free.

JJ meets your eyes; his guide shifting as you start to touch your tits as well.

"Fuck, Y/N," JJ groans.

You take your hands, running them gently against your breasts, circling your nipples with your fingers as he eyes your every move. Steam gathers above as the shower gets warmer; JJ's features are a little hazier than before. You return your focus below, running your nails up his thighs.

"Fuck you're huge, Jayj," you praise as you take him in your hands.

"Yeah?" He groans, watching you near his tip; a pearl of precum gathers on his head, rolling slowly down the length of his cock.

"Mmm... Mhmm." You hum, cleaning him up with your tongue; JJ closes his eyes, tilting his head back to the ceiling.

You continue to toy with him, little licks and flicks. JJ cradles your head in his hands as you swirl slowly. "Oh my god, Y/N," he grunts.

JJ's eyes open, watching as you kiss him sloppily, teasing him with the thought of your lips wrapped around him, the warmth of your mouth swathing him.

"Shit," he whines, sexual frustration painted all over his beautiful face. You smile wickedly, lips parting slightly; his mouth mimics yours, watching in anticipation as you squeeze the tip of his dick. "Those fuckin' lips, Y/N. Please."

"Please, what?" You taunt. "You were being a dick to me... Why should I suck yours?"

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he soughs, pitching his hips forward. You snake your tongue around his head, working in slow, circular movements as you play with his balls. JJ's eyes shut tight when you alternate directions. "C'mon, baby. Give me what I want," he drawls. You open your mouth wider; JJ chuckles lustfully as you comply with his request. You take him into your maw. "Fuck," he moans, drawing out the word with a deep breath. You bob back and forth, gagging on his cock each time. He takes your head in his hands as you increase your speed.

JJ starts to quaver on your tongue, mumbling words of praise as you add your hands. He tugs your hair causing you to moan, JJ, answering with the same.

He seizes control, stroking slower, taking a different grip entirely, his strong hands holding your cheeks. The head of his cock kisses the back of your throat, spit seeping from the corners of your lips.

"I'm sorry I teased you, darlin'... I just couldn't help myself," he sneers, not an ounce of remorse in his voice. He lets out a deep chuckle. "So fuckin' good at suckin' cock, Y/N. Jesus Christ." He thrusts deeply a few more times before giving you back the reins. You draw off him fully; a gasp for air releases from your open lips. You spit on his cock, stroking him with your hand, letting your breasts bounce with each movement.

"Do you want my mouth, JJ?"

"Yes, baby."

"Beg."

He shakes his head and smiles wickedly."Yeah, angel? You want me to beg?"

"Mhmm..."

"Please, Y/N. Can I please have your mouth?"

You raise an eyebrow, waiting for more.

"Fuck, Y/N... I need that pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock... I'm beggin' ya... Please, baby." You wrap your lips around his tip, creating a suction that makes him groan. Your hands wrap around, gripping his ass, as you start to stroke. Lewd noises fill the bathroom; JJ, panting and moaning; you, slurping and squelching with each bob.

He hisses out a breath as you drag your nails along his skin. Tears run down your cheeks, eyes locked on his, watching as he starts to near his peak.

"So good, baby... I'm gonna - Fuck."

You run him even quicker, sucking a little harder as his brows knit tight. His blue eyes soften on yours, fighting to keep them open. You feel him quake on your tongue. Releasing him from your lips, you pump fast, arm wrapped around your ribs, pressing your breasts together. Your mouth opens wide, tongue flat

"Holy shit," he grunts, inhaling sharply, surrendering to his finish, warm, white ropes landing on your tongue and chest. You bind your fingers a little tighter, milking out his last bits of pleasure, skimming your tongue along JJ's tip, cleaning up the rest, making his hooded eyes roll back.

JJ takes a clasp on your wrists, pulling you up and into his arms. You wrap your legs around his trim waist, melting into him as he breathes laboriously, coming down from his high."God damn, baby. You're so fuckin' good at that," he mumbles, breathlessly against your lips. "Do you know how good you make me feel?"

You smile against your kiss, sucking off his plump bottom lip slowly, taking it between your teeth. "You make me feel so fucking good, Jayj," you respire between kisses as he steps into the large walk-in shower.

The water is warm; remnants of his release rise off your body, swirling down the drain. Steam and heat hang heavy in the air, making it almost impossible to see. You hook your ankles, driving your body closer as he presses your back into the cool tile wall. He shuts the glass door—JJ's large handprint streaks across the gathered vapor.

"That feel good, baby? Not too hot?"

"No. It's perfect," you whisper.

"Beautiful."

JJ reaches for the shower head, taking it off the base; turning it to a steady stream. He kicks your foot out gently. A smile spreads on his kiss-swollen lips as he sees you start to put the pieces together.

"Jayj?" You giggle breathlessly.

"You ever done this before?" He questions, gripping the detachable shower head in one hand, the other pinned just over your shoulder as he looks down at you.

"I mean maybe," you smile.

"No one's ever done it for you?" He groans, letting the warm water spray against your thigh, working higher and higher.

You bite your lip and shake your head 'no.' Your focus shifts, drifting lower, watching as he brings the stream of water to your pussy, hitting your clit, making your knees buckle. You let out a moan, echoing through the bathroom.

"Y/N... Fuck, baby. Too much?"

"No. It's good, Jayj. So good," you sigh. "Don't stop."

JJ moves his arm from the wall to your waist, drawing you closer, rocking slowly, increasing and decreasing the intensity, making you throw your head back in pleasure. JJ's lips quickly lock onto your skin, kissing you harshly before biting down, making you squeal.

He watches your body carefully, your face changing with each passing second as you drift closer and closer to your breaking point. You feel your pleasure building fast, the pressure of the water stronger than any toy you've used in a while."You like that. Huh?" He grunts. You nod your head rapidly. JJ leans down, taking your nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking, causing you to arch your back.

"JJ... Oh my god," you hail as your vision starts to cloud, stars in your eyes.

"I can't wait to fuck you baby. This is just a warm-up, sweet-"

"JJ!" You cut him off, crying out in pleasure as you wrap your arms tighter, nails digging into his shoulder blades. He lets out a devilish laugh, forcing the stream a little closer. "Jay-JJ," you stutter.

"What, princess?" Your body jolts as you fight him slightly in overstimulation, continuing to ride the waves of your orgasm; pussy clenching tight. "Does it feel good, baby?"

"Yes. Fuck!"

"Then just take it," he rasps in your ear, sending chills down your spine.

You feel your body relax, heart pounding in your chest as you reach for air.

JJ returns the water head to the base, cranking up the heat, pressing you into the wall once more as you continue to kiss, your ears ringing slightly, feeling the after-effects of your bliss.

"Fuck me?" You whimper, desperation laced in your tone. "Please."

"Anywhere, baby? Where do you want it?"

"Bed; start here."

"The bed? You sure? I'd hate to upset the Williams." JJ reaches down, taking a grip on your thigh, looping it in his bicep, muscles flexing as he lifts you slightly.

"Just fuck me." You tilt your forehead against his, the two of you watching as his long cock nears your warmth. "Shit," you whine as he circles your sensitive clit with his velvety head, making him smirk. JJ moves a little lower, gliding through your folds; teasing your entrance with his tip.

"JJ. Please."

"Please what?" He teases you again.

"Fuck me."

"Baby..." He lets out a gravelly laugh. "Beg harder." JJ swipes his head across your bud again, making you gasp.

"JJ, can you please fuck me? Ple-" He thrusts his cock into you, rutting up, breasts pressing against his chest as he steals your breath. JJ grabs your ass and picks you up swiftly, causing you to sink deeper on his cock, making you mewl onto his lips.

"Y/N," he moans.

"Yeah," you stammer.

"I fucking love you."

"I fucking love you, JJ."

He pins you to the wall, leaning in, rutting quickly. His strokes are merciless; incredibly deep as you cling to his shoulders again. The hot water cascades down your body; increasing your pleasure as it flows between the two of you, the stimulation alone making you feel like you could climax.

"Ready?"

"Yeah," you mumble against his lips.

JJ draws open the door, his cock still buried deep as he brings you to the bedroom. He's sauntering, a slow stroll as you kiss at the perfect cadence. He sits down on the large mattress, letting you straddle his lap.

JJ adjusts slightly, his cock, reaching a different angle, making you suck in some air. You lift your body, rising up fully before spreading your thighs wide again. JJ grips your ass in his hands, following you as you move. "F-Fuck," you whine, bottom lip quivering as you feel him stretch you out.

JJ looks down, watching where your bodies connect. A low moan releases from the back of his throat. "You're so fuckin wet, Y/N. Holy shit." You hook your hand behind his neck, leaning back slightly, changing the angle for a better view. Watching JJ's thick cock glisten with essence.

Throwing your head back, you hit the perfect spot, feeling every curve and ridge as you push yourself further. JJ's thumb presses against your throbbing clit, rubbing circles on top, causing your thighs to shake. "Takin' me so well, baby girl," he drawls. "So fucking tight."

"JJ..." You sigh, feeling yourself about to cum again, head pounding with your heart.

"Yeah? That's the spot. Huh?"

"Y-Yeah," you stutter, cock-drunk, thighs quivering uncontrollably, making you lose your rhythm.

"Let me, baby. Let me," he groans.

JJ fucks into you, striking the perfect angle, making your muscles tense up. "Shit... Right there, Jayj. You're gonna make me cum."

"Yeah? This pussy was made for me. Cum on my cock, Y/N..." Your orgasm rips through your body, pleasure hitting you harder than your first release. Toes curling as you're sent into elation. You lock down around him, JJ taking his cue, pounding into you at an even quicker pace.

Before you can come down, he picks you up, throwing you on the mattress, thrusting into you suddenly. The sounds of his skin clapping against yours echoes through the large room. You let out a cry far louder than intended in a house that's not your own, even if it's empty. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand.

JJ quickly grabs your wrist, pulling it away from your mouth, shaking his head 'no' as he tacks it and the other against the plush mattress. "Never do that again," he pants through a smile, punctuating each word with a thrust.

"Closer," you beg. JJ leans in, pressing you against the bed, knees wide, striking deep inside, making your eyes slam shut. He loosens the grip on your wrist, fingers weaving into yours. Your mouth falls open, a mixture of pleasure and pain.

"Look at me, baby."

You do, seeing every muscle at work, water still glistening on his tan skin, his blonde fringe wet and messy.

"JJ..."

"Me too, Y/N. Fuck. Me too," he moans. He drops a hand, pressing two fingers between your lips; you suck them roughly as you fight to keep your eyes open. JJ slips his hand low, his skilled fingers brushing fast.

"Yes, daddy! Just - Just like that. Fuck. JJ," you murmur. "Oh shit-" Your orgasm spills over, soaking his cock; wetting the sheets below. The sound of his strokes intensifies as he works you through your climax, stimulating your clit, brushing through spurts as he makes a mess of your thighs and his. "That's it... Good fuckin' girl."

His hips snap into you one last time, filling you with his warmth, toppling down on top of you. You can feel everything at this moment, his release and your own, the two of you glazed with sweat, soaked from the shower. You focus on the sound of his heartbeat, complementing your own, the way your body fits in his, JJ's weight on top of yours.

"That was amazing," he praises, kissing you sweetly.

"So good... So fucking good."

#JJ maybank #jj maybank smut one shot #jj maybank smut #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj x y/n #jj x reader #rudy pankow smut

[nishithedevil]

Alright hi, this is my first time actually publishing a fanfic on here. Hope you guys like it. Tell me if you guys want a part 2 of this or any other ideas i should write

Capital Prince and District Princess

Lucy Gray x capital gn reader

part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

so basically Corio gets Jessup Diggs and the reader gets Lucy Gray as their tribute. I've been sitting on this idea ever since i saw the movie on the premier, and ig here we are finally.

My brother, Corio and I sit down next to each other as the professor starts assigning student mentors to their district tributes.

"I hate this, Corio. This feels unbearable." I whisper to him as he nudges his my knee with his for a bit of silent comfort.

As the professor reaches district 11 without uttering my name, a breath of relief almost escapes me. However, the respite is short-lived when he announces Corio's name for the boy from district 12, and then...

"And last but not least, Y/N Snow will mentor Lucy Gray Baird from district 12. That is all"

At that moment I freeze and looked up at the tiny screen, seeing Lucy Gray Baird slowly walk up to the stage. Her decision to place a snake in that girl's dress caught everyone off guard, and I abruptly rose from my seat in astonishment. She was definitively one hell of a performer, singing and bowing dramatically before being taken away. A hushed stillness enveloped the entire room. What had they entangled me in?

The professor folds the paper up, removes his glasses and goes to leave the room, muttering good luck to us. After him, I bolted out of the room and settled on the stairs outside. Corio follows, approaching quietly, and places a comforting hand on my back.

"I'm sorry Y/N, I didn't know they would pick you as a mentor to one of the tributes. I mean at least our tributes are both from the same district, that could be fun" he remarks, giving my back a reassuring pat before rising to his feet.

"C'mon, grandma's probably prepared dinner for us" he urges, descending the stairs at a leisurely pace. I hesitate for a moment, then quickly stand up to follow him, concerned he might leave me alone even for a brief moment.

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

Uncertain of what course to take, I opt to go and welcome my tribute. I dress myself in a tasteful yet not overly extravagant manner, even securing a rose. It might seem foolish given the circumstances, but the anxiety is too overwhelming to do otherwise.

I arrive at the train station and wait with the peacekeepers. A few minutes after later the train arrived and the peacekeepers opened the train doors one by one, even taking some tributes by force when they didn't want to come out. All of them who weren't too distracted with that were glowering at me, like they were ready to jump me. I patiently looked around for my tribute, and right when I turned around I saw Corio's tribute step out of the train and extend his hand. A tiny hand grabbed it and out came Lucy Gray. She silently thanked him and straightened her very colorful dress before glancing around. Her eyes landed on me and I stiffened, not knowing what to do. She approached, studying me with a slight tilt of her head. For some inexplicable reason, I found that gesture to be rather adorable.

I composed myself, clearing my throat before speaking. "Um, hi. Hello, I'm Y/N Snow. I'm your mentor, Lucy Gray Baird." I manage to say. Extending my hand, to present her with the rose.

"Uhm, this is for you, as a warm welcome to the capital. Despite the circumstances." I nervously rub my hand against my neck.

She maintains her gaze on me, then unexpectedly seizes my wrist, drawing me closer.

Before I could say anything, she finally speaks "Are you supposed to be here? Since I don't see any other mentors here" She asks as she lets go of my wrist and takes the flower, putting it in her hair.

A warmth rushes to my face, much to my frustration.

"Uh no, I suppose not. But I wanted to meet you formally and introduce myself. I want to get to you know more, that's all" I explain, clearing my throat once again, the warmth lingering despite the station's breeze.

By this point Lucy Gray has been standing pretty close to me, close enough that if I took one step closer we'd be basically hugging. She wasn't very tall, just below my chin, which meant something considering I'm not particularly tall either. Up close, I noticed the softness of her skin and observed that, despite the initial appearance of messiness, her hair was neatly taken care of. The scent of flowers, a mix of vanilla and floral notes, wafted from her.

She sizes me up with a thoughtful hum before a Peacekeeper abruptly grabs both her and Corio's tribute, escorting them forcefully towards a waiting van. Despite my protests, my cries fell on deaf ears. In a somewhat foolish move, I decide to follow them, uncertain of any better course of action.

I wait for the peacekeepers to turn their back and I slip inside the van right before they close the doors. I breathe out, desperately trying to calm down. When I do I turn around and see all the tributes looking at me. We stare at each other before a few of them sit up and fling themselves at me. I'm forcefully slammed against the van wall, feeling the oppressive weight of an arm on my neck. Meanwhile, another produces a knife from some hidden pocket, escalating and leaving me in a state of heightened vulnerability.

I struggle until I hear a voice speak up from beside me. "Stop rough-housin' my mentor. It's not their fault they're better than your mentors and came to greet me"

Our eyes shift to her and then back to each other, a moment of shared uncertainty. Eventually, they release their grip on me, and I instinctively crouch down, rubbing my neck and wheezing as I breath out a breathy thank you. Lucy Gray only pats my back in a comforting gesture as the tense situation begins to ease.

Abruptly, the van comes to a halt, prompting us to exchange glances. The door swings open, and the van tilts, causing everyone to tumble. I desperately grasp for something to hold onto, with Lucy Gray attempting to secure my foot, but our efforts prove futile. We all land on the grass, and fortunately, my fall is somewhat cushioned. I groan and begin to lift myself off, when I open my eyes and see that I'm on top of Lucy Gray. I blush furiously as I realize the position we're in.

I hear her groan and watch as she attempts to sit up, successfully doing so, freezing me in place. As she opens her eyes, a realization sets in – our noses are barely touching. We're so close that I can feel her breath on my lips. My face flushes with embarrassment, and she smirks at the proximity before smoothly sliding away and standing up. Patting her dress to rid it of as much dirt as possible, she extends her hand for me to stand up. Reluctantly, I look up at her, then to the side, and begrudgingly take her hand to stand up, patting myself down as well.

While fixing my hair, I glance around and suddenly recognize our surroundings. We're in a zoo cage. Further away, a reporter and two cameras are set up, with a small crowd of spectators observing us. The realization of being on display in such an unusual setting adds another layer of bewilderment to the already strange situation. It hurt my heart, how they treat these people as actual animals just for being less fortunate. Considering my family, I'm used to this kinds of stuff and know my way around these reporters, so I turn to Lucy Gray.

"Listen, I want to help you win this, and after the stunt you pulled in the districts, everyone wants to hear you sing. I don't want to force you, but the more the public likes you, the more sponsors you'd get. And the more sponsors you have, the more chances you have at winning." I turn to look at her, and she wears a cute expression, biting her lower lip as she contemplates the situation for a few seconds. After some thought, she reaches a conclusion. Without hesitation, she grabs my hand and says, "Let's give them a show, then."

I smile and walk up to the reporters with Lucy Gray in hand. "Oh and what's this? Is this one of our student mentors? with their tribute? And what pray tell are they doing inside with the tributes?"

The cameras turn towards us, the reporter pointing the microphone towards us.

With confidence, I step forward and declare, "My name is Y/N Snow. This is my tribute, Lucy Gray Baird, the songbird from District 12. I pledge to do everything in my power to ensure her victory."

"Ooh, very enthusiastic, even after the stunt she pulled in her district." He says before being interrupted by me.

"Hey kids, come here, come and hear Lucy Gray's singing." I wave over the few kids around the cage.

They rush over, and Lucy, catching my glance, crouches down and begins to sing to them. The cameras focus on her, and the reporter adjusts the microphone, making a comment that I can't quite catch. The impromptu performance captures the attention of the onlookers and the media, turning the unexpected situation into a unique and captivating display.

Hearing her voice in person was even more magical, and it was so beautiful, so delicate. I was mesmerized.

Reality snaps back as Lucy stops singing, and the reporter directs the peacekeepers to remove me. Before they escort me away, Lucy Gray grips my arms, pleading with me to bring her food the next time I return. A smile creeps across my face, reassured by the trust she places in me. She desperately clings to me, whispering those pleas, and I lean in, whispering, "Don't you worry about anything, Lucy Gray." The peacekeepers then lift me away, but my gaze remains fixed on her. In that moment, a determination sets in as I begin to formulate a plan to genuinely help her win and navigate through this chaotic ordeal.

#lucy gray baird x reader #lucy gray x reader #x reader #reader #gn reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #the hunger games ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games x reader

[viaoverthemoon]

Pink Pills 2/2

Since so many of y'all liked the first part of Pink Pills, here's the second part! :) Enjoy!

Be sure to read part 1 first!

Leon x AFAB!Reader

Tw: PURE SMUT, p in v sex, unprotected sex (Don't be silly, wrap your willy), intoxication, swearing, reader drugged themself, aftercare, Leon is so fucking hot

18+!! MDNI!! NSFW!!! Read at your own risk! <3

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You should take drugs like this more often.

Leon's hands dug harshly into your hips as he watched you bounce up and down on his cock, making the prettiest of noises he's ever heard.

He completely handed you the reigns, just watching you ride his raging dick was enough for him.

He simply ran his hands along your sides and listened to your desperate whines, sucking on your needy breasts every now and then.

You'd cum a total of 4 times, and yet the burning feeling never went away.

Your legs were starting to give out and you let out a frustrated breathy moan, sinking completely down onto Leon's cock.

"Leon... I can't..." You tried to catch your breath while also trying to ignore the feeling of him deep inside of you. So deep, you swear you can feel him touch your cervix.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving little crescent marks, as he leans into you. He kisses your neck, hoping to calm you down as you unknowingly grind on him.

"You're doing such a good job, baby."

His praise only makes the feeling so much worse.

You groan and try to lift yourself back up to ride him again. But it looks like your legs have given up.

You huff a desperate sigh before nesting your face in Leon's neck, still grinding into him.

"I can't, Lee... You do it? Help me fuck you?" Your question comes out as a desperate whine, igniting something in him.

Suddenly, you're on your back on the couch, his lips skimming your throat.

"You're amazing, angel."

Was the last thing he said before pulling all the way out of you, then slamming back into your spent pussy.

You release a raspy scream, voice nearly gone and cumming for the 5th time.

But it's like he knew you weren't satisfied yet, because he began to thrust in and out of you at an unrelenting pace.

It's rough, painful, addicting, and feels oh so good. You drag your nails down his back, probably drawing blood, but he doesn't seem to care.

You're loud. Louder than you've ever been with him. Back arching, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

And his noises aren't helping.

Leon sounds like can't get enough of you.

He whimpers, moans, groans, and whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

"You're doing so good for me, angel."

"Oh God... you feel so... it feels so... oh sweetheart-"

"You don't even know what you're doing to me, baby-"

"Pussy feels so good... Oh fuc- I'm gonna-"

Just with his voice alone, you're cumming for a 6th time. And he follows right behind you, pulling out of your soaked entrance and finishing all over your tits.

He hunches over you as you both catch your breath.

The burn your body once felt begins to fade, leaving you extremely exhausted. Your eyes start to droop and your limbs go limp around you.

Leon, being the over-observant asshole he is, notices this and laughs quietly. He leans down to give you a quick, yet affectionate, peck.

"Poor thing... Feeling better, angel?"

You can only manage a small nod, every bone in your body too sore and tired to even move.

Leon hums, standing up and stretching before bending down to pick you up bridal style.

"How about a warm bath? Then we'll go to sleep."

It was your turn to hum this time, resting your head on his chest,

"Oh and, angel? How about next time we try something like this, we actually read the warning labels. Okay? Okay."

He laughs as you groan and throw your head backwards.

Yeah. Next time, we'll read the warning labels.

.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆

Always read the warning labels y'all. <3

#leon x reader #resident evil #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #re4 #re4 leon #x reader #x y/n #viaoverthemoon #smut

[factual-fantasy]

24 asksss :}}} ⭐⭐⭐

@ardent-38

You are my favorite person

@wolfie-777

Cassie does not exist in my AU. But hypothetically-

If Roxanne found this lost child she would report it to Vanessa and have her help Cassie. As is the protocol for children that are found on the premises after hours.

If Roxy found her while she had the "bug" in her system? She would have attacked and maybe even killed Cassie :x

Had to google what that was, <XD It looks beautiful! And I image that he has seen it before yeah :)

As for their favorite songs, I'm not sure :0

That's.. actually a really good idea.

For a long time I never went back to the comic because the writing I did was awful. Everyone was acting out of character, it was SUPER dramatic. I wrote Peso's character all wrong. Uhg, awful awful awful.

And then I was kept away from going back because people would not stop asking me to finish it. "Why did you abandon this comic?" "Are you gonna finish it?" "Why did you stop drawing it" "Go back and finish the crab comic" Like, it was so frustrating.

...Buuuuutt,, rewriting it? Hmmm... I'm way too wrapped up with projects to start this anytime soon. But I wont lie this ask really got me thinking about it-

Also thank you so much! I'm glad you like my art!! :DDD

@smilegirl64 (Post in question)

Thank you! I'm so glad you noticed! That was my favorite detail to add XDDDD

@elegysonnet

I dug into the series a bit and took a look around the fanbase. And I decided that it just wasn't really my thing.

Although I did love the character designs and I think they'd be really fun to draw, I didn't think I'd get along with the fandom. I can see myself huddled in my own little corner with all my headcannons and stuff, and I wouldn't really want to interact with anyone else. :/

Also my favorite character is probably Julie or Howdy XDD

I use an XPPen Artist 13.3 Pro. Its a tablet with a screen! :))

As for my drawing program I use FireAlpaca. Its free and really good for beginners and pros! Highly recommend if you're just getting into digital art. Also thank you!! :D

@baokim80

@burningmusicfunnygiant

I disagree actually. The "bug" aside, they are in no way programed to hurt anyone. They are programmed to have full obedience to staff and Managers.

They could try to stop them, and they could physically stand in their way. But you wouldn't see Freddy straight up punching an employee to keep him away from Bonnie.

Now with the bug in their systems? mmm.. Okay yeah they would. BUT ONLY WHEN THEY'RE NOT IN THEIR RIGHT MINDS-

@cudlycorncornsworthcoberson

XDD Offended Bibi noises can be heard in the background

@curiousskelekitty

<XD I'll do my best!

I feel that my responsibility as an artist on this platform is to tag my art appropriately. Tag it for blood, gore, injuries, things like that. So that people who are disturbed by those subjects don't have to stumble upon it and have their day ruined. :(

What is NOT my responsibly is to prevent little kids from seeing my bloody Octonauts artwork. That's the parents job. XD THEY should be keeping an eye on their kids and making sure they're not browsing sites like Tumblr XDD

Tangle and Lolbit are not a part of my AU actually.

But Mangle? Just because she hasn't made an appearance of any kind yet, doesn't mean she wont in the future.. 👀

Thank you! :DD

Thank you! I'll try to not rush through my projects so much <XD

Thank you for respecting that! :D

Also uhg. I hate pinterest. I would rather people just never found out about me then find me through a pinterest post with my stolen artwork.

@whereismycupofcoffee

YEESSS!!! I always love it when people decide to give Octonauts a try :))) Its a really neat show!

THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDDD

XD My first thought was Peso or Shellington for some reason. They're just too polite to make a fuss XDDD

@kymbird

Wanna know a good place to start if you genuinely struggle with that? Make 1 character that is based off of you. And then make a second character that is based off of someone in your life that you have 0 romantic interest in what so ever. Like your Mom, or your Dad, siblings, Uncle, dog literally anyone. It should be impossible to twist those 2 characters together because they are modeled after you and ur mom. You should look at them and say "thats me and my mom" or "thats me and my brother" Those 2 should then be characters that are 100% protected from becoming a ship. :0

This actually reminded me of my transformer ocs. I modeled the characters after the drivers/owners. And people wanted to ship them together and I was like "for 1 they are my OCs so thats kind'a odd but 2 those two characters are based off of siblings. They absolutely should not- in ANY universe, be paired together"

Personally not a huge fan of the bright blue color he has. Seeing his Bonnie Bowl artwork everywhere I expected him to be his usual purple..

As for my Bonnie I think he'd get along pretty well with his Glamrock counterpart! But when it comes to the Bowling ally they'd be rivals. >:)

Also thank you! :DD

@trains-of-thought

aaaa thank you so much!! :DD I'm so glad to hear that you've liked my Mario artwork!! And that you read the info aaaa!! I spent a lot of time writing all that so I'm glad to hear that you read it! As for your questions,

1: Yes! My Peach, Daisy, Wario and Waluigi are all the same species, which is not human. They are this incredibly tall elf like species that closely resembles humans and has many biological similarities.. but ultimately they are very different species.

2: Its hard to say.. I've been known to change my mind a lot so maybe? Honestly I hope that someday these feelings towards fanart will vanish and I will be able to engage with my fans more. But for now,, noooo fanworks :(

OH MY GOSH I LOVE THAT FNAF VIDEO XDD Very well animated and funny! Here's the link in case anyone is interested!

I drew it myself! :)

#my response #fnaf security breach #fnaf security breach dlc #fnaf security breach dlc spoilers #octonauts #super mario bros

[vilevenom]

Hello again @bitterbunny07!! Thank you for your prompt! I love a good fic where one of the bros sticks up for JD! Though, I admit, I've characterized Clay a bit more...aggressive than I'd normally write him. 🤷

Also, I'm sorry if this seems a little rushed. I didn't have time to edit it and I wanted to get this out before I went out for the day, so I didn't read it back over I hope you enjoy!

Bruce didn't know how the argument started. All he knew was that it was John Dory and Clay, and they were being loud. Loud enough that a couple of his kids had asked if their uncles were okay. And that, in and of itself, was not okay.

"ALL RIGHT!" Bruce shouted as he walked around the corner to the area of the bar set up for smaller species, "You two! Separate!"

John scowled, but stepped back from Clay at Bruce's shout, while Clay was having none of it. He shot Bruce a dirty look, only to step right back into John Dory's space, nearly looking like he was ready to throw fists at their oldest brother. John grunted and stepped back again, holding his hands up in a placating manner.

"Bruce said to stop," John growled, losing another foot as he moved away from Clay, only for the taller troll to come after him again.

"And I'm not listening to him," Clay snapped, only to shriek in indignation as Bruce surged forward and grabbed the back of his sweater to pull him backwards.

"Too bad. You probably should have," Bruce stated, dragging Clay away from John.

"Hey! No! Let me go! We are not finished here, John Dory," Clay snarled, pointing at John in what some might consider a threatening manner. John simply shook his head as Clay was dragged away, stuffing his hands into his pockets and hunching his shoulders as he walked in the opposite direction of his brothers.

Bruce continued to drag Clay along as the taller troll tried to struggle free, rolling his eyes as Clay growled curses at him. Bruce was just happy that his brother was quiet enough that his kids wouldn't learn any fun new words from their uncle.

"Okay," Bruce finally said, practically tossing Clay into a beach chair once they were outside and a decent distance from the restaurant, "What was that all about?"

"None of your business," Clay groused, folding his arms over his chest and scowling up at Bruce.

"Oh-hoho, no. You do not get to play this game," Bruce snarked, sitting in the hair next to Clay, while jabbing his finger pointedly into his brothers chest, "You two were so loud that my kids were starting to get worried. It is fully my business when they come to ask me to make sure their uncles aren't going to hurt each other. What. Happened."

Clay, at least, had the decency to look contrite at the mention of the kids being worried. He looked away from Bruce and down to his lap, fiddling idly with his wrist bands, before letting out a long breath. "Tell the kids I'm sorry for making them upset."

Bruce threw his hands into the air in exasperation, before reaching over to shove his brother hard enough to nearly knock him out of his seat. Clay yelped, flailing slightly, and shooting Bruce a glare once he had righted himself. "Tell me, right now. Or I'll go get John's side of the story instead, and I have a feeling you don't want that."

With a scrunch of his nose, Clay let out a frustrated sounding sigh, before giving a short nod. "Fine! But only because John would make me seem like the bad guy."

"Are you?"

"No! I just…John makes me so mad sometimes," Clay admitted, drawing his knees up onto the chair and making himself small.

"What did he do?" Bruce prodded, shifting in his chair to make himself comfortable.

Clay sighed, running his fingers through his hair in agitation. "He was playing with your kids."

Bruce stared at Clay for a long minute, before letting out a disbelieving snort of laughter. "And that caused a screaming match in my restaurant? You will need to elaborate, oh brother of mine."

Clay grumbled quietly under his breath for a moment, only to shoot up from the chair while waving his arms through the air angrily. "He was playing with them like he's some, some…super uncle, or something! He was letting LaBreezey play dress up with him, and reminiscing with the kids about the band. He was telling them how they could be and do whatever they wanted."

Bruce found his eyebrows slowly arching up his face as Clay spoke, sitting forward a little to give his brother an incredulous stare. "And all of this is bad, because…?"

A frustrated yell forced it's way up from Clay's chest, as he picked up a rock to throw it towards the ocean. "Where was this stupidly encouraging side of him when we were kids?! Where was the 'Oh, you can be whoever you want to be! You have loads of time to figure yourself out!' when we were struggling with the stupid personas he forced on us?! Why does he get to pretend like he wasn't a monster when we needed him?!"

The outburst had Bruce a bit stunned. He knew Clay had bottled up resentments towards John, and he wasn't exactly subtle with his little barbs towards their eldest brother, but this was a whole other can of worms. "Clay," he breathed, rising up from his seat, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his brothers shoulder.

Clay only shrugged him off, turning an angry scowl at Bruce, only for his face to crumble into sorrowful tears. "Why weren't we worth changing for?"

Bruce clicked his tongue quietly, wrapping his arm around Clay's shoulders and directing him closer to the water. He stopped as they reached an outcropping of rocks, settling himself on the edge and patting the seat next to himself. Clay hesitated for a moment, before he too sat down.

"Clay…do you remember how old you were when Mom and Dad got taken?" Bruce asked quietly while staring out at the ocean.

"I was, like, nine or ten? Why?" Clay frowned, watching his brother curiously.

"I was twelve at the time. That would make Floyd seven, and Branch was still an egg. John Dory was fourteen."

Clay frowned, folding his arms over his chest with a sniff. "And?"

"John Dory was fourteen," Bruce reiterated, brow furrowed as he turned to look at Clay, "He was fourteen years old when suddenly he had to take care of three children and a baby."

Clay rolled his eyes with a scoff, unfolding his arms so he could lean back on his hands and kick his feet against the rocks. "Don't be so dramatic. We had grandma."

It was Bruce's turn to scoff, scowling at Clay. "Grandma was great, but she was busy a lot with responsibilities she had before we got dumped in her lap, and she worked a lot to make sure we were kept fed. John was the one who finished incubating Branch's egg, made sure we had proper meals, cleaned the pod, and kept us generally entertained. Let's face it, Grandma was also really bad at disciplining us, so that also fell on John Dory. And then we started Brozone, and that just heaped more responsibility on his shoulders."

"Why're you defending him? He practically gave you an eating disorder," Clay growled out, scowling at the ocean.

Bruce sighed, rubbing at his face before flopping back into the sand to stare up at the sky. "Yeah. He did. And that is something I need to talk to him about at some point. Hash out our feelings. But…becoming a dad made me realize a lot of things. About John, specifically. He was a kid, trying to raise kids and doing the best that he could. He had no idea what he was doing, and we didn't exactly make it easy for him. For fourteen years he was just our stupid older brother, and then suddenly…he was our guardian. I don't think any of us even had the capacity at the time to realize that he was forced to grow up in an instant while also grieving the loss of his parents."

Clay opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it with a soft click of his teeth. He sat up, lacing his fingers together in his lap. "I guess I never gave that much thought," he admitted, "But that doesn't excuse the way he shoved us into boxes and never let us grow."

"No, it doesn't," Bruce agreed, tucking his hands behind his head, "But that should be something you talk about with him in a calm, controlled manner, and not in a screaming match where my kids can hear you. Plus, y'know, he was also shoved in a box."

Clay blinked, turning his head to give his brother a curious stare. "What? 'The Leader'? Please."

"Yeah, 'The Leader'," Bruce parroted back at Clay, "He was. He was our leader. He took care of us for four years, Clay. Did you never realize that he created the band as a way to help grandma with keeping food on the table, as well as keep us from getting into trouble? It was also an extra layer of protection from the Bergens, 'cause if we kept the population happy, it'd keep them 'tasty'. I know we all eventually felt the pressure of the bands success, but John was dealing with it from day one. I think it all just kept building up and building up until he just…imploded."

"Okay, sure. But why is he so different with the kids now?"

Bruce sat up with a short chuckle. "Because it's been twenty years, Clay. Twenty years of decompression and learning about himself. I have no doubt that John indulged in all the things he missed out on in his teenage years in all that time. He's grown up. Got to, properly. And I think he's trying to do better. There's no pressure to keep my kids safe, or fed. He doesn't have to teach them life lessons or discipline them when they're bad. He gets to be an uncle, and I think he's trying hard to be a good one."

Clay fiddled with his fingers in his lap, letting out a slow breath. "Do you think I owe John an apology?"

"For yelling at him? Sure. But I think you need to have a proper and honest conversation with him about everything. About how he made you feel then, and how you feel now. And, please. Try to keep your tone civil."

A quiet laugh left Clay as he gave a short nod. "Yeah, okay. I definitely owe the kids an apology for making them worried."

"Yeah, ya do," Bruce said with a grin, patting Clay on the shoulder.

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls john dory #trolls clay #trolls bruce #trolls fanfic #things that i wrote

[eldstunga]

Hi! I really love your art! The lines are so bold but the colours so natural that it feels distinct but grounded?? I'm obsessed with the shapes in your work

I was wondering if you had any advice for drawing bodies? Whenever I try it either my proportions are off or an arm ends up looking like a calf or something.

First of all, thank you <3 That's so nice and I think "lines bold, colours natural" is some truly aspirational words to say about my art, I'll strive to be what you say I am <3 I do not, unfortunately, have any great tips on drawing bodies - it's a very wide topic and fundamentally just really bloody hard. I fail horribly 9 times out of 10. How to approach it I think varies a lot with like...HOW you are struggling, and who you are as a person. For proportions and anatomy there are definitely books to look at, and some rules of thumb that can help you - anything from "the shoulders are about 2.5-3 heads wide" through "feet are the same length as the forearm", "elbows are in line with the navel and the navel is two sternums down" etc etc. For me, realising just how big the ribcage actually is and learning how to use that as a unit of measure was a big event (the torso is about two ribcages long). Look at references, Draw over low opacity references and try to look for patterns that help YOU. Like... "Hm, do the shoulders line up with something useful?"

Having a good ref model to double check things helps too. The pen is pointing to about the bottom of the ribcage. But there's also stuff like maybe you're getting too hung up on construction and then it might help more to try to draw from references by ONLY blocking in a silhouette first. This helps me sometimes still:

Or you could be like me, struggle with all of the above and then some - like how to make poses look natural and/or dynamic? Weight distribution is a whole other topic.. gah, it never ends, but it's fun to learn.

Lastly, this took me way too long to realise and I think it should be said: Do not fret too much about STUDYING. The unfair thing is that the better you are at something, the better you will be at actually learning from doing studies and exercises or reading books. We accept this with many other disciplines and sports but rarely art. Mileage is king, and mileage is best gained from having fun and enjoying what you do. If you find studies suffering and frustrating you're probably better off just drawing what you enjoy and fuck it if it isn't "pushing your boundaries" or whatever. Eventually you'll get to the point where studies start to give more than they take, and then you're home free. I'm not gonna recommend a billion resources you likely won't enjoy but here are some things I genuinely found helpful lately: * a physical anatomy model, they're pricy and not necessary but being able to just look at it every now and then, turn it over etc helps. * The "Morpho" series of books, they do not teach anatomy, but they are very useful quick reference books and much more easily digested than most anatomy material. Just try to find a real anatomy book to read once your appetite is up as well.

The zig-zag/Lightning bolt method for arms and legs, fuckin' thing revolutionised how I sketch: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yCkmB030GpQ

Gottfried Bammes "The Complete guide to Anatomy for Artists and Illustrators" This thing is insane, it's from the 50's and like 600 pages long. You could absolutely kill someone with it, but a lot of the pages are more philosophical or art history you can skip and despite its age and fear factor this dude writes in a witty, clever and just wonderful way that I've seen nowhere else. Fantastic photos. By far, FAR the best anatomy book I've ever seen. It's not a book I'd recommend for someone starting out, I would not have been able to digest it like four years ago, but once you get to a certain point it's amazing.

That's a lot, uhhh, feel free to ask me for more specific tips this was a bit of a rant. Hope some of it was useful!

#art tips #.txt #asks #sorry its such a wide topic I dunno where to start

[pacifymebby]

Hello! Can i request a peaky blinders x terminally ill reader. Like, they don’t want to fall in love with her because it’s like falling in love with a ticking time bomb that’s gonna leave them devastated, but she’s just so lovely they can’t help them self

So cause I'm not terminally ill and therefore can't write a totally honest view of what this would be like, im going to try. Some of them might not be 100% how u asked so sorry in advance.

Tommy

🌿 He can tell you're hiding something from him and the rest of the world from the moment he meets you, he can tell its something dark and sad, but he thinks that makes you just like him and so, if anything, it only draws him in closer to you.

🌿 He thinks you're beautiful, he likes to listen to you singing while you work down the market. He can sense that whatever your secrets are, they mean he should stay away, but even before he really falls for you he can't. You just drew him in.

🌿 I think in the case of tommy it would be you trying to keep your distance from him, putting up walls and trying not to let him too close. You don't want to hurt him, and you don't want to hurt yourself by dangling a future you know you can't have in front of yourself.

🌿 But one day Tommy gets fed up with all your defenses and kind of snaps, calmly, but still, he lets his frustration get to him all "Whyre you doing this eh darlin, its like I'm trying really, really bloody hard to get to know you but theres all these doors you keep lockin right in front of me fuckin face, every time i try to talk to you, another wall going up and up and up... Whyre you doin that? Puttin up walls eh?" he'd say it all so intensely, and so calm and soft by the end of it, so that you can see the affection and need in his eyes abd it breaks your heart...

🌿 And when you tell him whats really going on you expect him to leave but he doesn't

🌿 Because this is Tommy isn't it. So narcissistically obsessed with his own doom that if he'd really thought about it for a second he could have guessed that he was going to lose him. That any chance of happiness he had with you would be the temporary, doomed kind.

🌿 He kind of embraces the pain and punishes himself with it every day, but is also determined that you don't deserve this. Maybe he thinks he deserves to lose the love of his life as penance for his sins but you do not deserve to lose your life because some ugly man from Birmingham did some terrible things. So he'd be defiant about it, he'd love you anyway despite knowing he perhaps should try not to. He'd love you like pressing on a bruise, embracing the pain he's in whilst doing everything in his power to give youba good and happy life.

🌿 He won't leave you. He'll tell you he's not going to leave you, he'll make sure you're completely certain of that. "Its important to me darlin, that you know that right, I'm not gonna leave you, I love you and I won't stop just because of some fuckin illness yeah, i won't..."

🌿 Actually he'll straight up marry you. Even if you think thats pointless because you won't be around for very long, he'll insist that it happens. He loves you, he wants to marry you whilst youve the chance.

🌿 Blames himself for the illness, even though you were ill before you met him. In his head its like this... If you were fated to be the love of his life, then that is what doomed you to a premature death, because he needs to be punished for his sins. He thinks you were sent to punish him for his sins.

🌿 He won't tell you what he's doing but he'll keep searching for ways to heal you, things that could save your life. Even if he doesn't find any, he won't give up. He'll start fuckin praying again. He'll go sit in a church and break down, beg for your life to be spared and his taken instead.

🌿 But he won't let anyone see or know his desperation. On the outside he will mostly remain stoic.

🌿 And he'll want to take care of you every step of the way, when you're in your last days he probably won't want anyone else around, just you and him, him doting on your every need, holding you when you sleep. Always scared you won't wake up. Telling you he loves you, but more importantly showing you he loves you with every little thing he does for you.

🌿 You might try to make him promise you he'll find someone else and fall in love and have a family and all that without you and he won't mean it when he promises you that he will. But he'll promise you anything, say anything to keep you calm and content in your last days.

🌿 He won't let you see him crying, he won't be "weak" in front of you. He'll be so brave and determined even though his heart is breaking because he won't want to upset you. He'd want to preserve your happiness and comfort for as long as possible.

🌿 Rather than getting teary upset i feel like he'd express his emotions through frustration and take them out on other people. He'd probably be a lot less patient with other people, snapping at them and making rash careless decisions. His brothers would have to work extra hard to keep him "sane" and make sure he doesn't do too much damage.

Alfie

🐻 Is an "old man" well aware of his own mortality and of life, suffering and death. You're not the first terminally ill person he's met and he knows exactly what he's getting himself into by getting close to you

🐻 His friends warn him maybe once, maybe they ask him if he really thinks its a good idea, getting so close to someone who won't be around forever... But one look from alfie, one quick and cutting sentence is enough to warn them off ever asking again.

🐻 "Oh an i suppose you think you will be around forever do you Ollie?"

🐻 He's not naive, he knows its going to hurt but he's also not naive enough to believe then that it won't be worth it.

🐻 Because he adores you, your gentle ways, your soft beauty, your kindness, how sweet you are, all he ever wants to do when he sees you is hold your waist in his hands and draw you in close to him. Hold onto you and have you all to himself.

🐻 He loves you, to put it simply, and you, to put it even more simply, deserve love. Being ill, dying doesnt make you any less deserving of that love. And he has so much love for you.

🐻 "If I can't have you for as long as I live right darlin, gonna make sure you have me for as long as you live yeah, reckon that makes sense doesn't it, makes perfect sense to me poppet, yeah makes perfect sense to me..."

🐻 He'd be completely devoted to you. He'd spoil you rotten, he'd want to make sure you got to do everything you wanted to, see everything you wanted to whilst you were still able to. He'd piss everyone at the bakery off by taking all this time away, practically throwing his business away so that he could spend time with you.

🐻 Basically puts Tommy in this frustrating and stupid position where tommys no choice but to mind the bakery whilst Alfie is off with you

🐻 And then when you're really sick and getting weaker every day Alfie is by your bedside doing as much for you as he can. He doesnt want some nurse you dont know attending to you, he doesnt want you to feel alone... He only trusts himself to be able to take care of you and he probably does everyone else's head in telling them exactly how you like to be washed/dressed, exactly how to cook your food.

🐻 Much like Tommy he'd be desperately sad about whats happening to you, he'd feel his heart break a little more each day but he probably won't cry in front of you, he'll probably try to be brave for you.

🐻 Very short tempered with everyone else. He will cry but only when he's alone, honestly maybe in front of Tommy and only for a second before he composes himself again.

🐻 Writes a whole fucking opera about you as a coping mechanism.

🐻 Always wants to be holding you or touching you somehow, like hes scared to forget how it feels. Always holding your hand in his.

🐻 Likes reading you to sleep, putting records on for you. Writing music for you.

Arthur

🍂 Is devestated, can't put his feelings into words at all, can't cope with the idea of losing you.

🍂 Everyone warns him about falling for you but their warnings come too late because he already has and he adores you. He wants to spend his whole life with you and when it becomes apparent that thats never going to happen he is distraught.

🍂 He doesn't want you to live he NEEDS you to live, he can't accept things the way they are, has to believe you can survive even though deep down he knows you can't.

🍂 He gets so angry and bitter, not with you or at you but at the world and with everything else. He's angry at the illness for taking you from him, he's angry at the world for being such a cruel and unfair place.

🍂 Tries to turn to god, tries to pray, thinks that perhaps if he repents for all the bad things hes done or, if he begs god enough, he can trade with you, he can die so that you don't have to. Because "its fucked up isnt it darlin, that someone so fucking kind and good and pure can have to deal with this, whilst the rotten likes of me just go on living an fillin the world up with bad things"

🍂 Arthur doesn't have the self control his brother has, he won't hold back in front of you even if sometimes it would be kinder for him to do so. There are probably things you don't really need to hear about how cruel the world is, how unfair everything is, but he doesn't have a filter and sometimes when his emotions get the better of him he just spills it all.

🍂 He will cry in front of you, you'll hold him whilst he sobs into your chest and breaks down. Then apologises because "you shouldn't have to be dealin with this, I should be being the fuckin strong one.."

🍂 Takes a lot of his emotions out in the ring and they probably have to try and stop him from going there because the damage he will do with all these enotions coursing through him could be deadly.

🍂 He would get more and more unstable the more ill you got, unable to cope with whats happening. But he'd so desperately want to be a good husband to you. He'd beg Polly and his sister for help, asking them for advice. Polly would probably be his rock here, giving him advice, giving him a hug when he needs one, a slap and a shake when he needs to snap out of it and be there for you.

🍂 She'd help him take care of you, teach him how to look after you, how to be gentle when he's taking care of you.

🍂 At the point that you're too weak to get out of bed he'd lie with you or sit with you whenever he could, he wont give you peace talking to you about everything thats been happening, nervous talking too because he doesnt like the silence. But you like listening to him ramble about everything.

🍂 You also like the fact that no ones worried about talking of peaky business in front of you so you get all of the gossip.

🍂 He won't be particularly articulate but he'll tell you he loves you constantly.

🍂 Brings you little gifts of food and sweet treats all the time. Makes you food his mam woulda made him when he was sick as a child.

John

🌼 John seems so happy go lucky, laidback, still such a child at heart and you're drawn to him because of that. Admiring him from afar, falling in love with his laughter and that cheeky grin. Torturing yourself because hes something you just cant have.

🌼 You don't want to let yourself near him because you don't want to take that carefree nature away from him or taint him with the side effects of your illness, the stress anxiety and torment which seems to taint everyone you get close to these days.

🌼 But John has been in love with you since the second he laid eyes on you and he's determined to ignore your warnings about staying away from him.

🌼 As far as he's concerned you deserve to be loved, whether or not you have the potential to break his heart or not. Technically - and this is an argument he comes up with all the time - technically, everyone has the potential to break everyones heart, he could get shot and killed tomorrow before anythings even really happened to you. He could fall in love with some other lass and she could get hit by a car or die in some sudden accident. "Just because you're really ill flower, doesn't mean I shouldn't love you. Doesn't make you not worth loving... If anything it means you should be loved twice as hard now... I've got a whole lifetimes worth of love to give you so better not to keep stalling... "

🌼 His family think hes impulsive but he marries you almost imediately. Youre the love of his life and he wants to spend as much time as he possibly can being your husband.

🌼 He would want you to have the best possible life you could, even if it was only short so he'd take you travelling to see all the places you wanted to see. He'd help you do all the things you wanted to do before you died.

🌼 He'd do his best to keep up his usual ray of sunshine persona, still being boyish and charming, always teasing you, always trying to make you smile. Out of all the peaky men John is the one who treats you least like you're terminally ill. He isn't quite so obsessed with being careful with you or treating you like you're delicate. He lets you make the "I'm going to die anyway" joke sometimes when it comes to you doing unwise things like drinking/smoking or going for a ride.

🌼 He wants to keep you laughing and smiling for as long as he possibly can

🌼 When you get more sick and you begin to grow weaker he does struggle more, he doesnt like seeing you look so unwell, so in pain. He wants to be with you all the time but he doesn't want you to see him get upset.

🌼 He goes to Ada for support and she lets him hug it out or cry to her. She'd give him the love actually advice of "cheer up, no ones gonna shag you if you cry all the time" type of joking advice which is exactly what he needs to keep his head up and stay strong for you.

🌼 He too would want to be there for you and help care for you everyday even if he doesn't really know what hes doing. If he couldn't help he'd hold your hand and reassure you.

Bonnie

🍀 He's heartbroken when he finds out, naturally, no one wants the person they love to suffer, however

🍀 Rather than get too caught up in how long you have left together, Bonnie feels blessed just to have you at all and he's determined to love you for as long as he can.

🍀When he tells you this, "I love you little dove, all this love aint goin anywhere just cause you are, I'll love you my whole life I know I will..." "But you shouldn't Bon its going to hurt you so much, I'm gonna cause you so much sufferin an you don't deserve that..." "You don't deserve to be alone though do ye? And I'm tough dove, I can survive," he'd make a show of flexing his biceps to prove how strong he is and try to make you laugh.

🍀 Like John he's determined to keep you happy and smiling for as long as he can. He'll make jokes, he'll tell you how beautiful you are, how loved you are. He'll keep telling you all these things even when your light does begin to fade.

🍀 He spends as much time with you as he possibly can. Being a hopeless romantic he'll definitely want to marry you.

🍀His own mother died when he was young and his father's already been through this, Aberama would be a little torn, he'd want his son to be happy and so he wouldn't want him devoting his life to a woman who's going to leave him so soon, but he'd also want his son to be happy which means letting him devote his life to you.

🍀 Bonnie would try to be brave, he would try not to cry in front of you, and though he might not shed any actual tears, you can tell when he does want to cry, when he's upset his jaw tenses and he gets this far away misty look in his eyes.

🍀He wants to give you everything in the whole wide world but he doesn't have the time, he wants to make you proud of him so he's extra determined to win all his fights and train hard... But sometimes he also just, can't see the point? What does fighting matter, what does being the champion of the world matter when the love of his life is going to have to leave him so soon.

🍀When you get restless he wraps you up warm and takes you off on horseback to the middle of nowhere where the two of you can get some peace. He helps you bathe in the creeks and rivers, lies with you wrapped in blankets under the redwood trees.

🍀When you're ill he wants to be the one to take care of you, to nurse you, to help feed and bathe you. He won't leave your side for a second and he'll really piss Tommy Shelby off by refusing fights and refusing to work. He doesnt care if his life or future is threatened. Nothings getting between him and you now.

🍀 Sings for you whenever you ask, tries to make up little stories for you. Is still determined to make you laugh/smile whenever he can, even when you're very weak.

🍀 Always bringing you flowers and pretty things he finds for you outside when you're too weak to go exploring with him.

🍀 Holds you every night when you're going to sleep, lies awake listening to you breathing determined that you'll wake up again in the morning. Kisses your hair/forehead/temple and hands all the time.

Isaiah

🐀He loves you before he knows youre terminally ill and you're affraid to tell him because you don't want him to leave.

🐀Everyone can see him falling for you, he's not exactly subtle about it - and that fact alone means he must be falling really hard for you. He asks after you all the time, he's always abandoning his friends when he's out if he sees you, choosing to waste his time talking to you instead.

🐀And regretfully it's Michael who ends up telling him about your condition. When he finds out he does get scared. He panics and doesn't know what to do.

🐀He doesn't want to lose you, but he doesn't want to get too close... The problem is he already has feelings for you and he can't just turn them off. In fact he knows full well that even if he'd known from the second he saw you at the Garrison he wouldn't have been able to stop himself falling in love with you because you're perfect. You're his perfect girl and he would never have been able to ignore you.

🐀So he backs away a little, he tries to fall out of love but he struggles and, just as he was expecting he fails. If anything trying to pull away from you only makes him more certain of his adoration for you. He loves you. He's so sure of that now.

🐀You aren't stupid, you notice him pulling away and trying to seperate from you and though it makes you sad you're not surprised and you can't say you dont completely understand.

🐀 So you try to tell him that, you try to speak to him gently, try to tell him exactly whats wrong with you, roughly how long you have left. And he listens and tries not to get upset and does quite a good job, then when you say "it's alright Isaiah i understand... If you dont want to stay I understand..." thats when he gets upset

🐀 He gets angry, upset with you for not valuing yourself more, for accepting that someone might not want to love you. But mostly he's angry at himself because even this little argument is wasted time he could have spent holding you, kissing you, telling you how much he adores you.

🐀"No don't you dare say that, don't you dare pretend that this is fuckin fine or that you understand, I've been so fucking selfish love, you deserve to be loved and I don't fuckin deserve you because for a second I was too busy thinkin bout me fuckin self to think about you and what you need!"

🐀And from there on out hes unshakable and so stubborn about loving you, he spends as much time with you as he possibly can. He tells you he loves you like a hundred times a day.

🐀Michael and his friends can't understand whats gotten into him, he asks him one day if he doesn't think he's "wasting" his time and Isaiah has to try not to get angry. Because thats a cruel way of putting it even if thats not how it was intended to be.

🐀"Course I'm not wasting my time, she's the only good use of my time... This is the only important thing i think I've ever done with me life, you know... Loving her like... If it were you in my position you'd understand, it'd be the same for you..." "but you coulda... You know chose not to be in your position..." "nah" says Isaiah, "i couldnt have chosen anything, s'not a choice mate, i just love her and always have..."

Michael

☘️ He definitely experiences "love at first sight" which is something he didn't really believe in before. But when he sees you he's swept away by your beauty and he knows, just knows, youre the girl hes supposed to fall in love with.

☘️ He tries to pursue you and you don't really take him very seriously because he's michael gray and hes got a reputation about him when it comes to the ladies. You think he just wants a one night stand and so you flirt back and laugh him off and tease him until he ends up confessing everything to you in a desperate attempt at getting you to take him seriously.

☘️ But then he's confessed everything to you, so now you have to tell him something too, thats you've an incurable illness. At first he doesn't understand and you have to spell it out to him. "It means I'm going to die Michael... And much sooner than you will..."

☘️ His first instinct is anger, he feels upset and betrayed that you didn't tell him straight away but this quickly subsides because he isn't really angry, hes heartbroken.

☘️ "If you were to ask my advice I'd say you should go off and find yourself a different girl," you smirk, youre only joking and actually if he were to follow that advice you'd be heartbroken, and pissed off too.

☘️ But Michael is two things : a gentleman and desperately in love with you.

☘️ So he just smirks and shakes his head, "forgive me love but i dont think you give very good advice..."

☘️ He knows how much its going to hurt but he keeps telling himself he's been through worse. He hasnt but he deludes himself with this notion so that he can stay strong for you.

☘️ He won't show you how upset he is about it unless really pushed to, perhaps nearer the end he'll break down, unable to hold it in and stay strong... But for the most part he is determined not to show weakness or to let you feel sad or despairing. He wants to reassure you all the time that everything will be alright and you don't need to be scared.

☘️Cries a lot in secret. Cries to his mother about it. Pol tries her best to support the both of you but its difficult watching her son have his heart ripped out. Difficult too watching you have yours ripped out.

☘️ Sometimes you wish you hadn't fallen in love because knowing what you're going to leave behind now makes the thought so much more painful. When you talk to Michael about it though he puts on his brave face and offers you all the reassurance in the world. Tells you you'll meet eachother again one day. Jokes he might not even be that far behind you. You hate it when he jokes like that though and he often does it just to wind you up, just to get you to play hit him and lighten your mood.

☘️ He'd organise the best private care for you, go with you to all your doctors appointments and try to keep as much of it under control as possible. He'd want you to try any cure they threw at you and there probably would be arguments about it if you didn't want to try something. In the end though he'd always put your wants above his own and listen to you.

☘️ Michaels quite a serious and sullen lad but he doesn't want you to feel serious or sullen so he often has to force himself out of his over thinking moods and into a more lighthearted one. All he wants to do is keep you smiling and hopeful.

#peaky blinders headcanon #bonnie gold x reader #peaky blinders imagines #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders imagine #michael gray x reader #isaiah jesus x reader

[runningfrom2am]

achilles heel - I: Ben's Sister

summary:

Grace is the very opposite of her brother in every way. when she finally moves onto campus at UNC Chapel Hill, she feels like she gets to be her own person, make her own friends, and hopefully start a promising career in the museum industry, and maybe, one day, get married to her high school sweetheart and live the American dream for herself. Rafe Cameron however, upon their very first meeting, throws a wrench in her very perfect plan.

tags/warnings:

rafe cameron x fem!oc, rafe is giving very much homewrecker, fanon!rafe (kinda), college!au, friends to lovers, slow-burn (maybe?), minimal oc description, drug and alcohol use, mostly unedited, (these tags are not exhaustive, lmk if i should add anything!)

wc: 2.1k

my master list

series masterlist

requests

January 4th, 2019

B: i'll be at the caf in 10 if you want to grab breakfast before class

Her phone buzzes twice in quick succession as the screen lights up on the table in front of her. She leans over to read it, putting down her coffee mug and rolling her eyes slightly to herself. Grace had already eaten the same thing she always does, being frozen strawberries and whipped cream for breakfast, and is finishing up her first of several cups of coffee for the day when she receives this text from her brother.

g: okay, back table in the corner

She sends her quick reply and goes back to what she was doing, pretending to read her textbook and hoping to absorb at least the key points before her eight am class. So far, this method has worked well for her. Only one semester down so far, but with a 3.91 GPA, Grace is feeling pretty good about her academic career.

Her brother, Ben, on the other hand, got into the same school on a scholarship for soccer, and Grace is pretty positive he's only doing the same degree as her so she can tutor him while he lives in a frat house. Which he very promptly moved into after orientation, leaving Grace on campus alone, and she didn't mind it one bit. Having some space from her brother and her parents for the first time has been amazing.

Grace looks up as her disheveled-looking brother slides into the seat across from her at the table, practically throwing his plate down. She removes her headphones to hear what he's saying. "Huh?" She asks, prompting him to repeat himself.

"I said..." He draws it out, clearly frustrated his sister didn't listen. "You're already reading that? It's only the second class."

"Oh, well yeah, they're assigned readings for a reason." Grace replies, putting in her bookmark and closing the book, shoving it in the bag at her feet before looking back at her twin brother. He looks like he just rolled out of bed, which, of course, he did.

"Right. Give me the summary then, yeah?" He asks through a mouthful of cinnamon and sugar toast.

Grace sighs a little. "So, basically, there's this guy, totally a dick." She begins to explain and Ben nods, but he's already looking down at his phone. "So he shoots this elephant, right, and then someone else shoots him, and then that's how the third world war started."

"Wait, what? Really?" Ben asks, his attention suddenly drawn back to her.

"No. There was no World War III, dumbass." She replied flatly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Do you even know what this course is about?"

"Not yet but that's why I'm here isn't it?" Ben chuckles, taking another bite of his toast and instantly chasing it down with his orange juice.

Grace cringes a little as she watches that. "Not exactly..." She replies, looking down at her watch. "We have fifteen minutes. We should probably go, we have to get all the way across campus."

Ben nods and shoves the rest of his one piece of toast in his mouth and picks up the other to carry with them while they grab their bags and clean up the table.

No one really knows what it is about the first week of the semester, but Grace, as well as every other girl she's seen so far, has fallen victim to the idea that you need to look put together and organized knowing damn well that by two weeks from now, she'll be showing up in pyjamas. But today, for the time being, she's actually wearing jeans and makeup to class.

They walk across the beautiful campus that overlooks the city from a hill. It's January, but the sun is rising and there's hardly any snow left on the ground, not that there ever was much to begin with at UNC. Grace grips her coffee cup with both hands to try and warm them- it was probably an oversight to leave her gloves back in her dorm.

They make it inside and find their classroom, walking in and looking around, scanning to see open seats. Grace's eye lands on a table with two seats that no one is sitting at, and makes a beeline for it, placing her bag down before realizing her brother isn't at her side anymore.

"Hey, man, how's it going?" She hears as she looks back over her shoulder, seeing her brother grabbing the hand of a boy sitting in the back row. She sighs and sits down as he sits in the back with someone she's assuming he knows from his frat or soccer or something,

"I'm pretty good. Don't know why I took an eight am but here I am I guess." Ben's friend, Rafe, says as Ben takes a seat next to him.

"Honestly, same." Ben laughs slightly, pulling his laptop out of his bag and placing it on the desk.

"Hey, uh..." Rafe starts, leaning closer to his friend and lowering his voice. "Who's that girl you came in with?"

"Why?" Ben asks, taking on a defensive tone as he digs around in his bag, looking for his textbook.

Rafe instantly shakes his head, leaning back in his seat. "Just wondering." He says quickly, looking forward at the long-haired girl sitting a few rows in front of them. "I didn't know you had a girl- I just thought you would have told the team."

"What? I don't." Ben looks up at him to see his friend staring at his sister. "That's just Grace. My sister." He admits, leaning back in his chair as well.

Oh, his sister. Rafe thinks to himself, nodding slightly in response to his friend, that was now watching him, watching his sister. Time to look away. "You have a sister?"

"Uh, yeah, dude."

"You never talk about her," Rafe says, glancing back at her.

"Not much to say I guess." Ben shrugs in response. "Uh, we're twins, I don't know she likes to read apparently. She's a history major, she lives here on campus. I don't know what really there is to add."

"Oh, really? I was thinking of doing history."

Ben laughs. "Dude, as if Ward would ever let you even think about taking anything other than business. Pretty much the only thing you can do with history is write or teach, that's boring as hell."

Rafe sighs, he knows Ben is probably right. "I mean, like, I wouldn't hate that. At least it would be my choice."

"Yeah, I mean, whatever you want man. Why not, right? Being a prof makes bangin money too. People respect you and shit-" Ben rambles on but Rafe isn't really listening. His eyes are trained again on the girl sitting closer to the front of the room, as her hair cascades over her shoulders when she leans forward more, writing something down in a notebook.

"Right?" His thoughts are interrupted.

"Oh, yeah, totally." Rafe nods, completely unaware of what his friend was talking about by now.

"Okay, so we've got some new faces in here today." A man who Rafe assumes to be the prof says, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention as the room quiets down. "You, in the back there. You missed introductions on Monday, so basically we all shared our names, our majors, and what year we're in if you'd like to share as well."

He's looking dead on at Rafe in the back, and everyone's heads turn to look at him. "I, yeah, sure. I'm Rafe, uh, this is my first year, so I haven't made any big decisions yet, but I'm thinking about majoring in history." He says, making eye contact with Grace and giving her a slight smile.

"Right, yes, Rafe Cameron. You're on the soccer team with Ben here. Your dad is Ward, right?" The prof asks and Rafe nods.

"Yes sir."

"I've met your father, he's a really nice man, hey?" He grins and Rafe nods again slightly in response, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Anyway, let's get started, shall we? Did everyone get the readings done?"

——

Grace gets up at the end of class, placing everything in her bag and her headphones back in, assuming that her brother would take off with his friend.

"Shouldn't we wait for Grace?" Rafe asks Ben as his friend turns to the door.

"Nah, I'll talk to her later." He shrugs in response. "Come on- we've got practice this afternoon and I want to have a nap first."

"Hold on one sec," Rafe replies, holding his hand up at his friend signaling for him to wait, and watching as Grace turns around evidently surprised to see them still standing there looking at her- waiting.

"Oh, hi." She says, removing one of her headphones.

"What did you think of the first real lecture? Did you write down every word?" Ben asks her and she laughs a little.

"No, but I'm glad we're getting into something interesting at least." She replies, avoiding eye contact with his friend, who's watching her intently.

"Hey, uh, I'm Rafe, by the way." He says to her before Ben can get a word in.

Grace looks briefly at her brother, who is staring at Rafe with an indecipherable look on his face. "I'm Grace." She says, looking back at her brother's friend and smiling politely. "You said you want to take history? That's my plan too." She adds, making an effort to move the conversation along so they don't just all stand there staring at each other.

"Yeah, I mean, maybe. My dad wants me to take business because he owns a company and I'll have to take it over eventually and all that crap." Rafe shrugs as the three of them head for the door.

Grace nods at that, shoving her hands in her pockets as they walk out the door and down the hall. "My boyfriend was supposed to take business too, or that was originally his plan in high school. He decided to go into chemical and electrical engineering instead and he's loving it, but I guess it's a bit different than your situation but I still think it's important to do what you want, not what other people want you to do." She shrugs, as Rafe looks at her brother, giving him a 'what the fuck, man?' expression.

Ben raises an eyebrow at him, the silent exchange finished with his confusion, and Rafe quickly continues his conversation with the girl who wasn't watching them, eyes straight ahead as she walked. "Yeah, I guess you're right. My plan right now is to sell it as soon as my name's on it, so my degree won't really matter."

"Yeah, you probably don't need a degree in business for that." She agrees, laughing slightly as she shakes her head.

As the three approach the end of the hall, Rafe takes a few quick steps forward to grab the door, and Ben smiles at him, laughing slightly and patting him on the shoulder as he walks through. "Thanks, bro." He steps outside, leaving Rafe to stare at the girl who took a turn down the hall instead of following them out. 

"Not going back to dorms?" He asks her, making her turn as she continues to walk backward staying with the flow of other students.

"I have a class in C building in ten minutes- this way is much faster. It was nice meeting you!" Grace smiles with a slight wave, popping her headphone back in as she turns around and continues down the hall. Rafe smiles back and raises his hand in a quick wave, sighing as he's stuck holding the door for a few more people before he can follow Ben.

"Dude, you didn't think to tell me she has a boyfriend?" Rafe asks, jogging slightly to catch up with his friend.

"Sorry, didn't think you'd be into my sister. Didn't think it mattered- that's not like, the most important thing about her, you know." Ben scoffs, shaking his head.

"Well, of course not. Would've been nice to know, though." Rafe grumbles, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

"You're not hooking up with my sister. Listen, even if she wasn't dating that loser I wouldn't let you. That's like, fucked up." Ben says sternly. "What would you say if I said I was into Sarah, huh?"

"Dude- gross. She's like, seventeen." Rafe shakes his head, scrunching up his nose at the thought.

"Exactly." Ben agrees. 

"Okay, well, that's different."

"You're digging yourself deeper and deeper man- you've just got to let it go." Ben insists, turning to walk towards his car on the opposite side of the parking lot from where Rafe parked his bike. "I'll see you at home!" He shouts back.

"See ya'," Rafe replies, walking in the opposite direction. He pulls the other side of his backpack over his shoulder, holding tightly onto the straps as he makes his way back to where he parked his bike- completely unaware that he was being watched through an upstairs window in C building by his friend's sister.

ahhh finally part one!! i’ve been working on this one for a hot minute so lmk all your thoughts and everything- i don’t have the whole thing planned out so also if anyone has any requests on where this should go, pls lmk!!

taglist: @madelynie @slut4drudy (message me or reply to this to be added!)

#rafe cameron #obx #obx fanfic #outer banks #rafe obx #rafe cameron x oc #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #college!rafe #college!au #fratboy!rafe #frat!rafe #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe x y/n #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fic #outerbanks

[allsadnshit]

I had a terrible nightmare last night that my bosses were my old art teachers in school and when I realized that I knew it was going to be unfair to have teachers so biased against me and all I wanted to do was draw and none of the other students would stick up for me or believe me that I was being treated badly in fact they were mocking my frustration and saying how easy the class was so I went to the supervisor to tell them I just needed to be excused from that class and could take any other one in its place and she started pulling receipts saying id done this too many times before and it was a boy who cried wolf situation that had absolutely no substance anymore and I was clearly the one making the problems and wouldn't be believed by anyone given my history of always getting bad blood with people

I kept begging everyone to see that I wasn't asking for anyone else's punishment and I wasn't trying to get people to be angry about what I was angry about I just wanted to be able to leave a situation that is unhealthy for me but they kept laughing in my face and saying I had no where to go

I woke up feeling so so sick. Everything with my job in real life feels it's escalated even though I've tried to handle things as well as I could and went to therapy before making any decisions to make sure what I wanted to do was aligned with sincerity and myself and when I tried to call my co workers to tell them i was demoted and to not keep working on the specialty drink ideas I had given the shop before finding out I wouldn't be paid on them they had me on speakerphone and my boss heard me saying I was demoted and they quickly hung up to avoid conflict and when I called them back I told them sorry yeah it's awkward but it's not a secret and I am not hiding something this is just actually the situation and that hanging up and bolting probably looks more suspicious than just telling them.

Then last night after I told my bosses I want my Sunday shift covered (cause I need more time to think about things and how I want to handle them and going in and working with them right now is not okay for me) the husband responded in a separate text which was weird and just said sure but that we should all talk if I need to do things don't fester if I have something I need to say. And I do, and I will but I need time to because half the problem is that they sprung the whole conversation and demotion on me without any warning like didn't even tell me we would be talking about it that day so I was so unprepared and it was really unfair to me. I muted the business and the other bosses instagrams i follow from seeing my story cause I want some privacy from them whether I'm having good days or bad days I just don't want them having access to me right now with everything going on and so they started lurking on my story from a secret account I didn't know the husband even had and I only caught it because he watched a story of mine for the first time and so quickly after I posted it that his name wasn't just lost in the views and I saw it. It was so off putting and like clearly they've never done that before so it wasn't normal and felt so invasive since they clearly realized I had blocked their other accounts from my story...

I'm going to probably have to be unemployed for MONTHS when I quit and I'm not trying to spite anyone I am trying to have some self respect and uphold the boundaries I have with myself about what treatment I will allow and what energy I'm willing to give to businesses that profit off it but don't appreciate it.

I've never ever ever quit something like this before but I know it just won't sit right with me to stay just for the sake of the money and peace it's just going to become worse and I need to walk away but I feel like none of my peers are gonna have my back.

[iztea]

When i first started digital i would make a layer for everything basically for the face clipping make several layers to it and same for the hair/ background/ every piece of clothing...etc

I did take it down a notch recently and all but i just saw a video from samdoesart and noticed he LITERALLY JUST USES ONE LAYER FOR THE WHOLE PAINTING!!!??

sorry was wondering if you'd recommend a certain number of layers

the amount of layers you use is highly dependent on the style you're going for, the complexity of a piece, your personal drawing style and preference etc so i really don't believe there should be a certain amount of layers you should use. I myself fluctuate between using many layers or just painting everything on one so there really isn't a correct way or number to go for.

Howeverrrr, i think there is a certain threshold where layers become too excessive and turn into more of a burden than an aid, something that you probably noticed as well. If you find yourself becoming frustrated with the constant switching between layers for every single part you've singled out, then it's better to take notice of that and just tone down the number a bit. Samdoesarts, despite his guynextdoor vibes, is a professional and so of course he doesn't feel the need for many layers because he knows what he's doing and has a very clear workflow and style in mind. To some extent, i believe that using a minimal amount of layers does also stem from a place of confidence in your skills and/or process.

Me personally, I tone down the layer amount moreso out of laziness and because i don't like to have my flow interrupted by some "technical" errors as in "whoopsie i painted on the wrong layer again" so i just., really try to keep it as low as possible; sometimes it works sometimes it doesn't and i suffer

I add new layers every time i want to " try something new" or fix something whenever i'm still unsure of how it will turn out. New layers are for experimentation. I treat them like some sort of backup or checkpoint of some kind- that's their primary function for me. If the new thing i tried painting over doesn't work out i can just hide the layer i painted on and either try again or give up on that idea as i concluded it doesn't look good. A safety net, if u will.

One rule i do follow however no matter what is to always always have a separate layer for the hair- both color and lineart. that is the only thing i make a conscious decision to keep separate (because of previous struggles and failed attempts) For everything else, I just paint it on one layer with those aforementioned experimentation layers on top. Same for rendering. And i always merge them together once i think it looks good

I really don't like having too many layers cause it becomes annoying and messy. The only time I deliberately use a shiton of layers is for commissions, really.

i know i didn't really answer your question, but i really don't think i can recommend a certain number, so i just shared my experience with layers instead. Bottom line is, as long as you find them helpful, use as many layers as you want but don't overdo it

#i have a lot of pieces that i gave up on exactly bc there were too many layers and it was too overwhelming #so yeah less is more #tbh i have more hidden layers than active ones #my so-called “backups” #that i never refer to and refuse to delete “just in case” #i have maybe 2 or 3 active layers so to speak #i'd recommend being very loose with drawing and not very strict #but what do i know it's just personal preference #ask iztea

[late-to-the-fandom]

Daily Writing Challenge - February 2024

Throwing myself headfirst out of the moving car that is my many-months hiatus and into the roadside ditch that is writing again, I have challenged myself to write for the @daily-writing-challenge's February prompts every day this week. The goal: remember how writing - particularly finishing a piece of writing - works. These will all be snippets from Prince Renathal and companion's continued adventures in the Dragon Isles (full stories here). Will they be any good? Probably not. But they will be done (maybe).

Day 1: Flirt - 600 words, no warnings

The saviour of Azeroth and the Shadowlands, champion of the Horde, former archmage and famous Maw Walker lay her weary body back against the sun-warmed grass and closed her eyes with a final, defeated sigh.

The Dark Prince raised one eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Not giving up already, are you?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Oh, please,” he scoffed, pushing off the railing with a clunk of plate armour and descending the ancient stone staircase toward his motionless companion. “You cannot give up. I know you too well. You are incapable of accepting defeat.”

“First time for everything," was her petulant reply.

Renathal’s wordless disapproval was a masterful sound, full of throaty skepticism and dubiously clicking fangs. Elisewin refused to acknowledge it. Her eyes remained shut, limp arms drowned in the swaying grass, determinedly ignoring the vibrant butterflies fluttering curiously around her wild, windswept fan of dark hair.

Coming to a stop beside her would-be corpse, Renathal tried a different tact.

“An ignominious end for such an illustrious hero.” He announced the words like a eulogy, gesticulating elegantly to his audience of butterflies, who showed no obvious interest. “Imagine - grappling with gods, conquering whole armies, destroying any number of mountainous beasts, only to be beaten by -”

“It’s so stupid,” spat Elisewin suddenly from the ground. Her eyes snapped open in a blaze of blue-white fury. “It’s such a stupid, ridiculous test of an even more ridiculous practice, and I don’t see why I should have to learn it. I was perfectly happy with my old Undercity bat. Slow and steady. That thing -” She twisted her head to throw an accusatory glance at the proto-drake sniffing the bushes at the base of the nearby cliff. “It reacts to the slightest movement! I can’t even breathe without it changing direction. And it goes too fast!”

“I have never known you to mind fast. You usually request it,” remarked Renathal playfully.

Elisewin narrowed her eyes at him instead.

“Don’t flirt with me when I’m frustrated.”

Renathal laughed aloud at that. Mustering all her available dignity, Elisewin turned her face pointedly away from him and closed her eyes again.

“And I mean it. I’m done. I’ve tried sixteen times now, and I'm all over bruises. I am not trying it again. I’ll just walk everywhere.”

Wholly undaunted, Renathal swallowed the last of his laughter and fixed his tone into something that might have been mistaken for sympathy by someone who did not know him well.

“Very well, dearest, if you are certain." He stepped around her studiously still form and headed towards her waiting mount, calling behind him: “You can simply ride alongside me. I am happy to take the lead. I, personally, do not find the practice particularly taxing. Then again, I am much older, with a greater reservoir of power to draw from. You can hardly hold yourself to my standard."

A rustle of grass, a low groan, then a series of furious soft-soled footsteps assured Renathal this last hand had won. He turned expectantly, already holding out the proto-drake’s cracked leather reins. Elisewin snatched them from him. Her lavender glower as she swung one leg over the bulky creature's back only made Renathal smile.

“Ah,” he declared in affectionate triumph, propping himself against the rocky cliffside to watch his lover's seventeenth attempt. “That is the Maw Walker I know."

It was Elisewin’s turn to scoff. She wriggled uncomfortably, settling back into the saddle. Fixing her grim expression on the looming tower at the top of the cliff, she declared to the wilderness around them:

“I’d take the Maw over dragon riding any day.”

#daily writing challenge #wow fanfiction #dragon isles #renathal x maw walker #renathal fan fiction #prince renathal #fanfiction #world of warcraft #shadowlands #dragonflight #and there was only one dragon! #domestic fluff #elisewin #the maw walker #nightborne

[snailythefan]

Hi Snaily! How have you been? Im here for a pretty serious ask.

My boyfriend has been drawing for a while, I honestly think he's doing real good. But recently he's been feeling down about his art, he doesn't know why he should bother improving his art if his style is *basic* to some people, and it hurts a lot for him. He knows he should be drawing for fun and not force improvement to stress him out, but there's only so much I can do as his loving partner who doesn't draw at all.

So... what was it like for you, Snaily? When you started drawing many years back, how did you not feel like shit looking at how it could be better but you don't know how? What advice can you give to a beginner artist?

(You can answer this privately if you want btw, and ask me for his art if you need to see them. Much love <3)

hi peng!! always nice to hear from u! I'm gonna reply to this publicly because to be honest i can't resist to give this kind of advice to any and all beginner artists (but i am putting it under a readmore because as you know i love to ramble and this will get LOOONNNGGG and will Truly be The Ramblings of a Mad Man (gender neutral))

firstly, since I hear that he feels hurt by the idea that people out there might find his style "basic". That's a rookie mistake (that literally everyone makes when they start getting Serious about Art). The mistake being Caring Profoundly About an Outside Audience that's Ever Watching and Judging.

Which I literally cannot blame him or anyone for it, ESPECIALLY in this modern social media landscape where newer artists feel like they gotta get GOOD at the VIRAL RAT RACE so you gotta get that sweet, sweet validation in the form of likes, reblogs, retweets etc etc.

So that's my first tip I suppose: don't fall for the entrapment of being obsessed with getting any and all sorts of SWEET VALIDATION during your art process. This is hard to condition yourself to! I myself fall prone to it! It's actually kind of natural. Even if the validation you seek isn't online, surely you're expecting it from your peers or teachers or family members or whoever gets to look at your sketchbook (or you know, your medium of choice).

You want people to notice your art and all the effort you put into it. It's okay! DO welcome those who do!! But never NEVERRRRRR NEVERRRRRR commit the mistake of placing the value of your art on how much praise it gets from others. That's a one trip road on having an Absolute Bad Time. THE ONLY PERSON you should be looking to make happy with your art is YOURSELF first and foremost!!! Always!!! This is the Golden Rule!!!

So people (imagined or otherwise) think his style is """Basic""". Okay! That's literally not a crime anyone can arrest you for!! So what if you're LITERALLY starting and your art looks """basic"""!!!!!!! WHAT IS THE CRIME HERE!!!! CAN'T MY MAN JUST CREATE IN PEACE!!!! LET HIM COOK!!!!!

If he's starting out, i think it's pretty expected of him to just have a "basic" style you know? He shouldn't be ashamed of it! The best chef in the entire world right now didn't start making The Most Delicious Food To Ever Grace Anyone's Plate on DAY 1. They probably started with a goshdang sandwich. Many of them maybe. Until they could make the Perfect Sandwich even in their Sleep and only until then they felt ready enough to explore Further Possibilities In The Kitchen.

(Is this metaphor working? I sure hope it is!)

Anyway.

"How did you not feel like shit looking at how it could be better but you don't know how?"

Well that's a fun question because to this day I get extremely frustrated whenever I realize my Art Level isn't up to my standards. But THAT'S OKAY- even in my case!

If you're Serious About Art (as in, you LOVE making art) you'll constantly feel like you're having to catch up to artists that are doing MILES better than you. Which happens to everyone. Truly it's only the curse of having A Good Taste In Art (so you automatically Set Standards For Yourself based on what you personally consider Great Art).

So again, something to not be ashamed of. But also something to Learn To Live with. I get it!! I truly do!! You see some guy online who apparently is only 14 and they're already making compositions with complex perspectives and an amazing sense of color theory and you'll want to bite off your hands!!!! But you can't let that stop you!!

You're just gonna have to learn to Fail, Constantly. Failing Gracefully! Sucking At Art Again and Again!

You might think this conflicts with the Golden Rule (i mean, if you're not happy with your own art- then what's the point yeah?)

But it's all about Love babey. Loving the process of failing constantly, because deep down you REALIZE you're learning how not to suck little by little.

It's also an exercise in letting Spite guide you. So what if you're bad!!!!!! What if you've somehow committed the crime of being A Bad Artist!!!!!! The cops will never catch me fucker!!!!! SEE HOW I DESECRATE THE HOLY ACT OF "CREATING GOOD ART" AHAHAHAHA!!!! LITERALLY NOBODY CAN STOP ME!!!!! <- the attitude to Have. Yes you gotta be prepared to be Unhinged and to have active Disdain towards 4th Plane Entities that are probably judging your art quality. (Unless my experiences aren't universal and nobody else feels a salacious self-satisfaction whenever they draw something that looks like an affront to The Universe, knowing they can just Try Again).

Anyway those are the benefits of sprinkling a little Spite alongside all the Love for the process of Making Art.

At the start you might feel like you're only making bad art. So! Own it! unironically my life philosophy is that everyone should make more BAD ART!!! ARTISTS OF THE WORLD UNITE TO MAKE MORE BAD ART, YOU HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE BUT YOUR CHAINS!

that's for the mental approach at least.

So, what about the technical side? How do you actually take all those feelings of inadequacy and wrangle them into something productive that will help YOU get better at the art you want to make?

with the warning that i am a self taught artist so i might not the the perfect person to ask, but truly the most IMPORTANT skill you want to hone is OBSERVATION and COPYING WHAT YOU OBSERVE.

Basically you're gonna study the artists you like! You're gonna stare REAL HARD at the details in the art they make! And THEN. You're gonna try to copy THAT! Hell, you might even want to TRACE what they do at first** (**THIS ADVICE IS FOR PRACTICING. DO NOT TRACE AND THEN POST ONLINE FOR OTHERS TO GO "hey man wtf this is just you tracing X Artist" DO NOT!!! DO THAT!!!) just so you get a feel for what they have in their art that You Don't and learning how to slowly replicate that.

That's how I learned the ropes at least. Literally printing manga panels and then tracing over them during my Peak Weeb Years. Ah little snaily, how time flies. Another thing i liked to do was watch speedpaints of artists i liked but at like -2x speed. So it was a slowpaint and i could STEAL THEIR SECRETS <- another valuable art skill

Anyway, that's what I think it's the most important (to observe!)

...but also you might want to either take art classes OR watch a buuuuunch of tutorials on youtube for The Basics (basic anatomy! shading! values! color theory! perspective! gesture drawing!!!)

You feel like shit about your art? Fine! Then realize your life is your own and you have the absolute power to change that directly!! GO ON YOUTUBE AND LEARN THOSE BASICS!!!!!! don't be like me and struggle this much with perspective after years of making art!!!! (Though in all fairness, even those good at it struggle with it lol)

So! I am all out of advice for a newer artist.

TL,DR: YOU WILL SUCK A LOT AT FIRST BUT THE MORE YOU PRACTICE AND LEARN ABOUT YOUR FAILURES, THE MORE YOU'LL LOVE TO SEE YOUR IMPROVEMENT AND EVENTUALLY YOU'LL BE ABLE TO DO THE ART YOU WANT TO MAKE.

Peng if you could forward this to your bf i would be very grateful. Good luck to you two!!! Thank you for reaching out!! And remember!! Never give up!!!!!

#ask box #pengdaw2nd #*rips off shirt to reveal shirt underneath that says I LOVE ART AND ALL IT ENTAILS*

[capillaryspice]

Unpopular opinion rant incoming:

I did not enjoy Baldurs Gate 3

Before anything else I will admit I am biased, as strategy turn based games aren't something I'm usually into to begin with. I mostly ended up playing it because my partners and a friend are SUPER into the game and wanted to do a 4 player run. I do have 30 hours on a solo run I tried to get used to the game with, so I have a decent bit of experience with how it's supposed to run as a single player but I'm not judging companion stories or anything because I haven't completed them.

I do understand why people like BG3, and I don't wanna rain on anyone's parade for a very critically acclaimed game, but I do have some thoughts that I just need to get out of my head, so if you like the game and don't wanna hear me complain about it just scroll on ahead. If you do want to hear me complain, I'd love to hear if anyone else has had the same thoughts, because genuinely I've not really had anyone to talk to that hasn't been head-over-heels for it. (Actual thoughts under the cut)

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

With that out of the way, for starters BG3 is a very impressive game. From a technical perspective, from a voice acting quality perspective, the sheer amount of tiny tiny details, etc... it is IMPRESSIVE. Too impressive, I'd almost have to say. Because, despite being impressed by it, I did not have FUN playing the game. For all its details it doesn't draw me in. For all the technical marvel, it's just too janky. It's all of the rules of DND and none of the immersion or fun

I would love to have had a functioning camera position that didn't give me whiplash whenever a new character in the combat of 20+ NPCs decides to do so much as shuffle to the left. It feels like pulling teeth when trying to select/interact with anything, god forbid a reaction happens while you're trying to attack and you just completely lose the action bc the interruption to movement pauses everything and screws u up. I'd love to be able to jump without going through two menu screens and a map to just hop over a gap(I'm never complaining about the Dark Souls jump being too complicated ever again). Also everything moves so slow, I would kill for a fucking Sprint button.

I would have liked anything approaching a streamlined combat system that didn't take a long ass time to set up a move that takes six seconds to play out, and then wait for ten minutes literally doing nothing while the rest of the NPCs in initiative whip the viewpoint around and get it stuck in walls and corpses so I can't even see what's happening while I can't do anything for the rest of the round

A lesser gripe, but just a bizarre choice to not do: Id like to hear the character voice I chose in character creation for cutscenes, instead of just background ambient lines. Like, if the last dragon age game (from 2014 mind you) can have a voiced main character with multiple voice options, this new game that has unique voice lines for every goddamn squirrel on the map and ALREADY PAID VOICE ACTORS TO VOICE THE MAIN CHARACTER TO BEGIN WITH can probably afford to do so. Hell, I'd like some background music that isn't just the tenth rendition of Down By The River in a different key. The bard music is all gorgeous, why couldn't they have reused some of those compositions as ambient music for different locations?

This is a MASSIVE game, and what they've put into it is definitely admirable, but like. Not in the ways that make a game breathable or immersive? The choices in where they've decided to dedicate the anal level of detail seems misguided from a just general player standpoint; There's some gorgeous settings in the game, but I was distracted every time by getting frustrated that I couldn't even get a more-than-vague look at any of the scenery I actually enjoyed because the camera is so limited in its angles. So I can't take a good look around what should be a beautiful temple that I'd love to see closer, but I can individually inspect every moldy apple and tax form on a random dinner table instead. It's a vast open world, but the character models have very clearly defined paths they have to stay within. The amount of unique NPCs is insane, but the mechanics themselves TREAT them as NPCs(i.e., resurrection rules), and they don't react to PCs unless ur doing Violence or Crimes (even og skyrim had NPCs have comments on if u weren't like wearing clothes, for instance). Every shelf and bag and nook and cranny are searchable, but that gets overwhelming very quickly as you have to choose between taking like an hour of real time to clear a cluttered area and possibly find something important but more likely just end up with a bajillion rotten carrots, or move on but have the anxiety of knowing you've possibly missed something vital. There's a million options you can take at any moment with any object or character, but there's rarely anything indicating what will be vital later for general world stuff. But then with the main plot (the Emperor, Raphael, the crèche) it felt very railroaded in the sense that TECHNICALLY you could try and choose between outcomes, but your choices don't actually matter because you die if you choose The Wrong Option (or end up in effectively death sentence combat) and will end up where they want you to go regardless.

BG3 isn't a game I want to spend time playing; it's not a world I can wander around and appreciate the beauty of and get lost in the soundtrack or the environments. The whole combat system is incredibly frustrating to manage, and just feels like Hurry Up And Wait. I'm not gonna knock the romance parts of the game, I've heard good things and haven't gotten far enough in any of em to have an educated opinion on, so really the only thing the game has to offer in spades OTHER than romance is replayability. Which normally I would say is a good thing, but for how long of a game it is and how non immersive the gameplay and world feel, it really just ends up being a game of fucking around and seeing how many things you can get an alternate dialogue for or create new stats around. Like, this is great for completionist folks who love collecting achievements and making the most busted crunchy math-based builds possible, but Baldurs Gate 3 to me just isn't a game I can sit down and have Fun(TM) relaxing and playing.

It's a game that I feel absolutely missed the forest for the trees.

So anyways, essay complete. I've only slept like 6 hours total in the last three days so a lot of this may or may not even make sense. But on so much sleep deprivation finishing this game and realizing I was just frustrated with it instead of actually feeling accomplished for having finished it, it was the final straw and I just needed to get the thoughts down somewhere

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk

#it's 6am I still haven't slept (thanks work and insomnia) and I may delete this tomorrow #I'm probably being unreasonable with my frustrations but they have frustrated me nonetheless #and it's my blog so no one can stop me from going on a silly little videogame rant #anyway thanks for listening yall

[aebi12]

"Resentment" - Chapter 3

Summary

He is the cause of her sufferings. He took her dragon, her betrothed, and her father. Now, he will also take away her future by having to marry him.

With so much history and bad blood between Rhaena and Aemond, their forced union has everything to fail, except that the proximity will make them discover that perhaps they have more in common than it seems.

AU - the Greens win the war.

Masterlist with previous chapters

____________________________________________________

Hiiiiiiiiii! I know I said Sunday, but hey that was just a few hours in this part of the world so...

Enjoy!!!

Also I'm battling with a nasty flu right now, so I'm sorry if there are mistakes :(

______________________________________________________

“Welcome to King's Landing, Lady Rhaena,” the Dowager Queen greets politely.

Rhaena looks away from the stoic prince and clears her throat so she can reply, "Thank you, Your Grace."

“I trust you had a good trip”

"I had," she nods, "Although I admit it was a long one and I'm happy to finally be in my ancestral home, and to be received by such honorable company."

The words come out more easily than she expects, empty courtesies she's practiced all her life that seem to make a good impression on the queen, who looks at her in surprise at first, before finally offering her a smile.

“We were looking forward to see you”

Beside her, Aemond chuckles, and Rhaena can't help but glance in his direction, though his gaze is fixed somewhere in the empty courtyard.

“This is my son, Prince Aemond,” the queen continues, her posture anxious as she regards the man, her lips pursed into a snarl that seems to denote sudden nervousness.

At the mention of his name, Aemond tilts his face and his eye meets Rhaena's again. For a moment, a brief moment that fills her with terror, she thinks he's going to come over and say something, but in the end, he just gives her the slightest nod and refocuses his gaze in the courtyard. Rhaena sighs, relieved, and hears Alicent sigh as well, though hers seems to be more out of frustration.

"Mother!"

Daeron's interruption saves her from having to address Aemond. The young prince, indifferent to the tense moment shared, approaches Alicent and places a kiss on her forehead before standing next to her.

“My son,” the woman smiles at him with obvious fondness, “Thank you for bringing Lady Rhaena back safely.”

“My mother is relieved every time I return to land from riding Tessarion,” Daeron comments with amusement, looking at his cousin, “Are you feeling better?”

"Are you sick?" Alicent asks, watching her expression.

“I just felt a little under the weather because of the trip,” Rhaena is quick to reply, shaking her head, “I'm not as used to dragon riding as my cousin.”

"Probably you are just hungry," Daeron says with a shrug, "It is been many hours since we've had food."

"Yes, yes, you are right" Alicent nods, "It is pretty late, we should go inside and have a proper dinner."

“If I may,” Rhaena curtsies, and walks back to the carriage, opening the door and extending her arm to Morning, who deftly climbs up to wrap around her shoulders.

The young woman returns to her hosts and suppresses a smile at the stunned look of the Dowager Queen, who takes a couple of steps back, clearly avoiding getting too close to her dragon.

“This is Morning,” she says in an affectionate voice.

"I didn't... I was not aware that your dragon..."

The queen clearly doesn't know how to go on. Morning roars in her direction, barely a playful roar, but one that makes the woman close her eyes for a moment. The sound seems to draw Aemond's attention, who this time focuses his gaze on both the creature and its rider, gazing at their proximity with what appears to be a mixture of curiosity and disapproval.

“I couldn't leave her in the Vale,” Rhaena explains, “Do not worry, though, my queen. Morning knows how to behave"

“I vouch for that,” Daeron nods.

“Fine, then…” Alicent still sounds reluctant, but she finally makes her way up the stairs to enter the palace.

The place is still as foreign to Rhaena as it was the first and only time she had visited it. The many passageways, corridors, and stairways open before her almost like a stone maze, softly lit by the torches on the wall.

Perhaps because of the hour, few are the nobles they run into, though they all look curiously at Rhaena and the dragon. None, however, makes a move to approach the dowager queen and the princes, limiting only to greet the royal family silently and respectfully. Since her relatives don't stop either, the girl follows them until they pass a wide courtyard and enter even wider corridors that she thinks she has walked in her last visit.

 "You must excuse me," it is Aemond who speaks, when they stop in front of a double door, "Lord Lannister in waiting for me"

The prince offers no further explanation, just glances at his mother before turning his back on them, and walking the other way.

"My son is quite a busy man," Alicent says with a forced smile, "I am sure you know he is the Hand of the king."

“I am aware,” Rhaena nods, internally relieved by the absence of her betrothed.

"I am sure you'll have more opportunities to… get to know each other, later on"

The prospect gives Rhaena goosebumps, but she hurries to follow the Dowager Queen to the rooms.

“I thought that a family dinner would be the most suitable,” says Alicent

Rhaena briefly surveys the room, patting Morning, who growls at the smell of food.

"May I ask you, Queen Alicent, to bring appropriate food for my dragon?"

“Oh, sure, sure,” the woman frowns and calls out to one of her maids, “Raw meat, I guess?”

“That will do,” Rhaena nods.

The maid rushes to comply, and Rhaena decides to remain standing without approaching the table yet, afraid that her dragon will wreak havoc so close to the food, though she accepts a glass of wine from Daeron.

“I apologize, Lady Rhaena, for the haste with which we requested your presence in the capital,” Alicent begins.

"I admit it was quite a surprise when Lady Jeyne broke the news to me."

“I imagine so,” the queen nods absently, sipping from her own cup, “but keep in mind that we made this decision with your interests in mind, and the future of House Targaryens, of course.”

"Of course"

“After all, it is in the realm's best interests that the traditions be upheld,” Alicent continues, “You are a Targaryen, just like my children, it is only logical for you to join your lives and perform together your duty to the kingdom.”

Rhaena can't help but wonder if her words are meant to convince her or herself.

“I am honored to be able to join your… son,” she replies, hesitating at the last moment, not daring to say the kinslayer’s name out loud.

At her words, Daeron watches her with open curiosity and Rhaena thinks she sees the beginning of a smile on his lips. Her heart stops for an instant, scared that he'll mention his mother her outburst from a moment ago. Her cousin, however, lowers his gaze and remains silent.

"You must be aware of the painful circumstances that the king and his wife experienced just a couple of weeks ago"

“Tragic news for the kingdom”

“A loss we deeply feel. We hope that in the near future we will have more auspicious news to celebrate."

The queen doesn't say more, but from the way she looks at Rhaena, she can understand what Alicent isn't saying. The same thing Lady Jeyne had told her. That, from the moment she married the prince, it would be her duty to provide the kingdom with a royal heir.

The maid enters the room with a metal tray, and Morning appears to sniff at the food, for it flies off Rhaena's shoulder, who rushes over to the terrified young woman and takes the tray from her hands.

"Thanks," she says, offering her a half smile, "I'll take care of it from here."

The maid hands her the tray and quickly steps back. The dragon follows Rhaena to the end of the room, eager to eat.

“Here you go,” she tells her with a smile, whispering reassurances in High Valyrian.

"Please join us, cousin."

Daeron offers his hand, and Rhaena walks with him to the table. It is when she is finally sitting down that she realizes how hungry she is.

For several minutes they eat in a pleasant silence that is finally interrupted by the prince who talks to his mother about matters that Rhaena does not pay much attention to, her gaze going from her food to her dragon, who has already devoured all the meat and flies lazily in her direction.

“You must be exhausted,” Alicent says once they finish dessert.

“I am, Your Grace,” Rhaena admits.

“Cyndi, show Lady Rhaena to her rooms,” she orders the young maid who brought the dragon's food, “And don't worry, you will find there everything you need.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Rhaena stands up and curtsies, “Cousin Daeron”

"Cousin"

Rhaena calls out to Morning, who climbs onto her neck, then follows the maid down a long hallway to the last room guarded by a knight who bows to her before opening the door.

"Would you like me to run a bath for you, my lady?"

"Yes, please"

The young woman leaves, and Rhaena takes the opportunity to examine what will be her new room.

Your new prison, that little voice sounds in her head, but the girl ignores it as she walks through the huge space.

“It's a lot bigger than the one we had in the Vale,” she says to Morning almost in a whisper, “but not nearly as pretty.”

Rhaena goes to the only window and draws the curtains, being disappointed to find her new view will be that of a stone courtyard. Sighing, she closes them again and thinks bitterly of the beautiful mountains that were the first thing she saw every morning when she woke up.

As Morning flies to the comfort of the fireplace, Rhaena goes to the small sitting room, where a couple of sofas, and a small table have been placed. On top of that, there is an empty shelf except for a book which upon inspection turns out to be a copy of The Seven-Pointed Star. Rhaena stifles a giggle, wondering if the Dowager Queen had deliberately placed it there.

Cyndi, her maid, returns and helps her out of her riding clothes after setting everything up in the tub.

"That will be all, Cyndi, you can leave now"

Once alone, Rhaena lets out a soft moan of satisfaction as the hot water immediately relaxes her sore muscles after so many hours of travel. Closing her eyes, she massages her body and inhales the delicious fragrance of roses that perfumes the water.

For a few minutes, just a few minutes, Rhaena feels completely satisfied.

Until her mind – her treacherous mind – reminds her of her reality.

Her imminent marriage.

No.

It's not exactly the idea of marriage that she dislikes, after all, Rhaena had made the trip to the capital practically accepting the idea that she was going to marry her cousin. She just didn't expect said cousin to be… him.

Aemond Targaryen.

Your mother is dead. Vhagar has a new rider now.

The memory comes back to her as vivid as that night all those years ago, and Rhaena shudders.

Even at that time, when they were all children, the presence of her cousin had been frightening to her. The cruelty of his words, the clear satisfaction and arrogance on his face at having accomplished his feat, the ferocity of his attack… Rhaena shakes her head. She doesn't like to think about that night. She doesn't like to think about everything that followed. She doesn't like to remember her role in it.

Rhaena leaves the tub and dries her body with the linen towels Cyndi has left for her. In her bed, a simple white nightgown awaits her. The young girl rushes to put it on and crawls under the covers, wishing she could fall asleep right away, which of course she doesn't.

This could be one of your last nights sleeping alone.

The desperation is so great that she has to get out of bed and begins to pace the room, pacing back and forth as she contemplates her options.

Options. What options? A hysterical giggle leaves her lips. She has no choice but to comply. It's not like she can escape her fate. There is nothing waiting for her. She cannot return to the Vale and put Lady Arryn at risk. She can't go to Baela, who is just another guest of her cousin Alyn's. She has no other allies, only enemies surrounding her.

And the main of them all was going to become her husband.

The prospect terrifies her. Why him? Why precisely the source of all the misfortunes in her life? Why should she marry a criminal? Rhaena places her hand on her chest feeling her heart pound violently.

It had been all too easy to pretend to the others that she was the dutiful bride they expected her to be, but now, in the solitude of her room, she really begins to process what it will mean to marry the one-eyed prince. To marry the man who had killed Lucerys. And her father. The man that he had terrorized the Riverlands… to allow him to touch her

“Gods,” she whispers into the void as she thinks of what awaits her on her wedding night. The thought of a crippled Aegon sharing her bed had been tolerable. To have to let the kinslayer, violent as he was, take her, was repulsive.

“Don't worry about it yet,” she tells herself, looking at her reflection in the mirror. If the gods were merciful, she would still have time to enjoy her solitude, and get used to what would happen later. If the gods were merciful, her cousin's actions had only been motivated by the war between their families, “We are no longer at war. There is no reason to fear him. He's just a man."

A man who had simply ignored her and had not exchanged a word with her. Maybe he wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe…

She knows is just wishful thinking, but she clings to that idea to calm her mind and she returns to bed, forcing herself to repeat her thoughts like a prayer until she falls asleep.

***

A knock on the door wakes her up the next morning.

Morning, who has climbed onto her bed at some point, growls next to her.

“Come in,” Rhaena says hoarsely as she throws off the covers and stands up.

“Good morning, my lady,” Cyndi greets, “The queen has requested that you join her in the Throne Room.”

“Oh,” she replies, confused. She had hoped that the Dowager Queen would want to have breakfast with her, “Do you know what the reason is?”

"No, my lady, but…" she seems to hesitate, "The order was given to the entire Court"

Rhaena's stomach turns, and the girl bites the inside of her lip nervously.

"Thank you. Help me now, please”

The maid starts working on her hair while Rhaena eats some fruit from a tray Cyndi has brought with her.

"How early is it?"

"It's quite late, my lady," says the maid, "It's been hours since the royal family had breakfast."

Rhaena nods. She must have been a lot more tired than she imagined for her body, used to waking up at dawn, to lose track of the hours.

When the girl finishes fixing her hair, Rhaena goes to the closet and examines the dresses that have been left for her. To her relief, she discovers that none of them are green, but are all shades of red and black with House Targaryen motifs.

“This will do”

Once she's ready she goes over to Morning and pats her, “You stay here. It will be better not to terrify the entire Court”

The dragon snarls, but she makes no attempt to follow as Rhaena heads for the door.

As they proceed through the corridors towards the Throne Room, the young woman is aware of how different the Red Keep looks from the last time she visited it. On that occasion, almost all the decoration motifs had been related to the Faith. Now, different mats, paintings and the Targaryen emblem could be seen.

 “Lady Rhaena Targaryen”

The Kingsguard announces her arrival, and opens the doors to the Throne Room, the huge roomthat had made an enormous impression on Rhaena, especially with the crude sight of the Iron Throne.

The members of the Court seem to make way for her, and Rhaena strides forward to the foot of the throne, where the Dowager Queen stands once more with Aemond Targaryen.

“Lady Rhaena,” greets Alicent Hightower

"My queen"

The woman smiles at her before taking her hand and motioning for her to stand next to her son.

Rhaena swallows, feeling her breath hitch as she moves to stand next to the prince, albeit at a safe distance.

Everything will be fine. Everything will be fine, she repeats to herself as she clasps her hands over her belly. Against her better judgement, her eyes drift to her cousin and her heart skips a beat as she meets Aemond's piercing gaze. For a few seconds they both simply observe each other, her cousin's face a cold mask that she can't read. Even so, she can't break contact, though she doesn't know if out of fear or because an unexpected and rebellious little part inside her drives her not to show weakness in front of him.

"It is my great joy," Alicent begins, managing to release Rhaena from her momentary outburst, "to announce to you the betrothal between my son, Aemond, and the Lady Rhaena Targaryen."

A murmur of voices runs through the room, the many eyes of the noble lords and ladies focusing on the couple. Rhaena tries to keep her calm mask and continues to listen to the queen.

“The wedding will take place two moons from now. And although circumstances do not allow us to celebrate as expected, we will have a tournament in honor of the couple."

Rhaena can swear that Aemond tenses beside her, but this time she doesn't dare look at him, instead focusing her attention on the Court's reactions, who seem buoyed by at the prospect of a tournament.

“May the Gods bless this union,” Alicent finishes. The Court murmurs in approval and the Dowager Queen approaches them. “Well, now it's official,” she says with a smile, “I trust that…”

"If you'll excuse me," Aemond interrupts his mother, "The Council awaits me."

Her cousin, Rhaena thinks as she watches him stride away and without answering the congratulations of the noble lords, always seems impatient to get away from her.

And she can't be more than relieved for it.

“Did you have a good night sleep?”

"Yes, quite a restorative one."

"Good. Come, I want to introduce you to your new lady-in-waiting."

"Will I have a lady-in-waiting?" she asks, amazed.

Ladies-in-waiting were generally reserved for the queen and princesses. She had never had one. Not even in the Vale.

Of course,” Alicent replies as if it were obvious, “You can have as many as you like, but since you don't know anyone yet, I thought I'd select one for you.”

The dowager queen descends from the stairs of the throne and approaches a young woman with light brown hair and a heart-shaped face who is wearing a striking yellow dress decorated with seashells who is clearly waiting for them.

“This is Marianne Westerling,” says Alicent, “your new lady-in-waiting.”

“It is an honor, Princess Rhaena,” she greets, curtsying.

"I am not a princess," Rhaena corrects, causing her to blush and look down, "Call me Rhaena, please."

Marianne Westerling nods and Alicent chimes in, “Lady Westerling will help you adjust to Court. I trust that she will do a good job accompanying you”

"It is an honor, my queen," repeats the young woman

Alicent seems satisfied with her response, "Now I must leave you, other obligations require my attention."

Offering them one last smile she heads towards the double doors.

"I am sorry for the confusion with your title, Lady Rhaena," Marianne hastens to say, still flushed and clearly flustered.

“No, no, please call me Rhaena,” she says with a smile.

“Rhaena,” Marianne says with a smirk, “what do you think of the Court so far?”

"I haven't seen much," she admits, "and I haven't been here in years."

Last time, she thinks, she had been in this very room to defend Lucerys's claim to the throne of Driftmark. That time, her father had beheaded a man and they had all ended up participating in a dinner that had ended in a fight.

“Well, I think you are going to like it,” Marianne comments cheerfully, “Queen Ellyn has taken it upon herself to make Court quite enjoyable for all of us who live here.”

"Enjoyable?"

"Yes, there's always something to do," she replies, "Tea parties, dances, bards, the usual."

Rhaena, for some reason, thinks about her life in Pentos. The city, vibrant, colorful and full of spectacles, had been her home for the first ten years of her life. There, too, the girl had been happy with all those distractions.

"How is the queen?"

Marianne blushes again and Rhaena sees the sadness in her eyes, “I haven't been able to visit her yet. The maesters say that she cannot receive visitors and that she must rest, poor thing. Of course, there have been rumors about her condition, but I try not to listen to them."

Rumors? Rhaena is tempted to ask what those rumors are, but she holds back. Marianne, as friendly and sincere as she appears, has been appointed by Queen Alicent. Nothing assures her that she is not her spy.

"May the Gods give her a speedy recovery"

“That's right,” Marianne nods vehemently, “So, Rhaena, where do you want to start?”

It takes the girl a minute to realize that her new lady-in-waiting is waiting for her instructions on how to proceed, “Well, I wish I could get to know the palace better. I have no idea where each room is located”

“Yeah, sure, so…”

But Marianne doesn't go on because an elderly woman, amazingly holding a pug on her lap, approaches them.

“This will be fun,” Marianne whispers in her ear.

~~~

"So, how is she?"

“Surely, brother, there are more important matters to discuss than my betrothed's appearance,” Aemond replies dismissively.

“Surely,” Aegon agrees, “but such matters don't interest me at the moment. I try to remember our cousin, but I can't,” the king frowns, “I do remember her sister. A total beauty"

Aemond decides not to answer. He has no interest in starting a discussion about the physical appearance of his cousins.

“I think she is quite pretty,” Daeron chimes in, “and she's very nice and polite.”

Aegon chuckles and Aemond restrains himself from rolling his good eye at him, though he snorts in disbelief.

"Clearly our brother does not agree with you"

"I don't see why he would, he hasn't even crossed a word with Rhaena," the younger replies.

"What? None at all?" Aegon looks amused and orders the cupbearer to refill his wineglass, "Why not?"

“I am a busy man,” he answers simply.

Busy running your kingdom, he thinks sourly as he fiddles with his Valyrian steel dagger.

"Still, aren't you curious about your betrothed?" the king continues pressing for answers, even though he knows his younger brother doesn't enjoy the topic of conversation, "I mean… you're going to have to bed her."

Aemond looks at him scornfully. As if Aegon had ever really cared to know any of the women he shared his bed with, "You are well aware that this is a mere political union."

“One that might as well be pleasurable,” he retorts. When Aemond makes a dismissive gesture, the king laughs and adds, “Well, if you're not interested, you can always send her here with me. I will gladly fulfil my duty for you."

“That is a very tasteless comment,” Daeron retorts, “You are a married man.”

"Yes, with a woman I won't be able to touch from now on"

"You should show more respect for Ellyn, she is your queen and wife"

This time it's Aegon's turn to dismiss his words, “You spend too much time in mother's skirts, little brother. Tell me, have you already visited the Street of Silk? If you haven't, I can arrange that…”

"Enough," Aemond cuts him off, "He is just a boy."

“He is nineteen years old, he is no longer a child. He is quite a bit older than you were when I helped you solve your little problem."

Aemond's hand closes dangerously around his dagger, his gaze fixed on his older brother, who seems utterly oblivious to the enormous effort the prince is making to keep from throwing the weapon in his direction.

Luckily for Aegon, his mother enters the royal chambers at that moment, and he rushes to put away his dagger.

“Ah, dear mother, ever so opportune,” Aegon greets, “is it time to sedate me again?”

Alicent seems surprised to find all three of her children in the same room, her eyebrows raised slightly, as she makes her way to her eldest son's bed, tea in hand.

"Drink, Aegon," she commands.

The king doesn't even protest, but rather drains the contents of the cup and makes a face.

"What are you doing here?" she asks looking at her younger children

“We were discussing the matter of the betrothed,” it is Aegon who answers, though his voice begins to slur, the milk of the poppy clearly kicking in, “I was telling my brothers that…”

But he doesn't finish what he is going to say because he is overcome by sleep. Alicent signals for the maester to enter, surely to tend to his brother's wounds, and Aemond seizes the opportunity to leave the room.

"Aemond, wait."

His mother's voice makes him stop.

"Mother"

"Have you talked to her yet?"

Aemond does not have to ask whom she means.

"Why should I?"

"Because she is your betrothed," she replies as if it's obvious, "You can't just ignore her."

That is exactly what Aemond intends to do.

"Why not, mother? You said yourself that I wouldn't have to see her daily, that we could keep our activities separate."

Alicent shifts uncomfortably, fidgeting with her rings, “That's not what I meant. I didn't want to…” the woman sighs, “The Court has welcomed her with open arms, the noble ladies seek her company and…”

Aemond restrains himself from responding as he wishes. Of course, the Court loves her. They're all a bunch of hypocrites throwing daggers at each other's backs. Rhaena does the same with her polite words and her apparent compliance about their marriage, showing them just what they want to see.

"And what does that have to do with me?"

"It does not reflect well on your character that you do not show any consideration for her"

Oh yeah. Again, the mention of his character, of his damaged reputation.

“The entire court knows it's an arranged marriage,” he replies, “why should I pretend otherwise?”

"Courting her for bit wouldn't hurt," she replies, “She is a naive young woman and she is alone in the castle. The fortress can be quite a lonely place despite the many courtiers within it."

Aemond opens his mouth to reply, but catches himself when he takes in Alicent's expression, her brown eyes seeming to glisten with unshed tears and not looking at him, but lost in her memories. The prince wonders if perhaps his mother is projecting her own experience onto the figure of his wife-to-be.

"What do you want me to do?" he asks, defeated, when his mother finally looks up at him and places her hand on his chest.

“For you to try,” Aemond nods and Alicent takes his hand, squeezing it, “And Aemond? Do not disappoint me again"

***

His mother's words echo in his mind as he leaves his brother's room and walks without knowing exactly where.

Although he has promised to try, it is not in his nature to recite poems or offer flowers, so all he can think of is to talk to her. That will have to suffice. After all, it's what his mother has insisted for days that he do.

"Where is Lady Rhaena?" he asks a maid, who seems utterly terrified when Aemond stops her in the hallway.

"In the garden, my prince"

Aemond balls his hands into fists. Of course she is in the garden.

The young man walks towards it with a determined step, and paces through the corridors full of trees and bushes in which several noblemen walk. The prince ignores them all and is about to just give up when he finds her.

Rhaena Targaryen is sitting on the edge of a fountain adorned with the statue of the good Queen Alyssane, sheltered from the sun by numerous trees and, as always, in the company of her dragon.

The scene fills Aemond with sudden annoyance, his good eye once again observing the ease with which the creature coils around her neck. Rhaena lifts her hand to her muzzle and offers her an apple, giggling in amusement as the animal snarls.

Pathetic.

“You treat her like a pet,” he says disapprovingly once the distance between them is closed.

Rhaena tenses immediately upon noticing his sudden presence, and Aemond finds it even comical how she immediately stands up and takes a couple of steps back.

"I beg your pardon?"

“I said you treat her like a pet,” he clucks, annoyed at having to repeat himself.

"I am quite aware that a dragon is not a pet, cousin."

 "My prince"

“What?"

"You will refer to me as my prince, prince Aemond or my Lord"

Rhaena seems to take his words as a blow because a faint blush stains her cheeks and Aemond is aware of the angry glint in her eyes. Her dragon, who seems to notice her rider's discomfort, snarls in his direction. Aemond looks at the creature dismissively and chuckles.

"As you wish, my prince"

Her hostile tone of voice, so different from the one he has heard her use so far with his relatives, briefly surprises him and causes him even more dislike.

“You should leave her with Tessarion's caretakers. Keeping her by your side will only make her grow disobedient and not developing her abilities to the fullest."

“And I guess you offer your advice based on what? Your experience with the egg you had that never hatched? With raising a dragon since birth?”

Her answer hits him like a bucket of cold water. Her allusion to his incapacity for not having had a dragon linked to him from the cradle causes anger to flow inside him. Her smirk as she strokes her poor excuse for a dragon drives him crazy.

“I knew you were a fake,” he hisses, moving closer and glaring at her, “I knew all that kindness was just a well-trained mask.”

"Or maybe," she says, holding his gaze defiantly, "I am only kind to those who deserve it."

"And your betrothed is not worthy of your kindness?"

"No, not of my kindness"

"Of what then?" he asks, taking another step towards her, coming dangerously close to Rhaena and feeling her dragon's breath on his shoulder.

"My rage," she replies calmly, almost unruffled, though Aemond notes the rapidity in which her chest rises and falls from her labored breathing, "My revenge, even."

"Rhaena, I couldn't find the…"

A female voice interrupts them, breaking the tension between them and causing Rhaena to step back as a brown-haired young woman Aemond thinks he recognizes from Court makes her appearance.

“Oh, I…I'm sorry, my prince,” she says with a quick curtsy, “I didn't know you were here.”

“It is okay, Marianne,” Rhaena soothes her, “we should go, Lady Redwyne is waiting for us.”

Rhaena doesn't wait for the girl to respond, instead she grabs her arm and drags her in the opposite direction.

______________________________________________________

Next chapter probably on Thursday.

Let me know what you think so far :)

Tags:

@qyburnsghost @niocel @ammo23

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #ao3fic #prince aemond #aemond fic #resentment #aemond kinslayer #rhaena of pentos #rhaena targaryen #forced marriage #dragons #aemond fanfiction

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

Regarding how Jimin tells stories like the rainy day fight, I don't think Jimin is comfortable going deep into stories in a public settings. He revealed a lot of rawness in his EP and yet when he had to discuss it on that live that was scheduled, he just skipped a lot of it or left it vague. I wouldn't mind it if it was just him being naturally bad at public speaking but I have a suspicion its probably a result of prior experiences. That he spoke about being better about how he handles his diet, and armys gave him an ed. That he talked about how he's changed and learned how to become a strong man and armys used that characterize his younger self as an insecure mess. He probably learnt to limit his emotional musings to his art.

Yes, I perceive it the same way. Of course his reasons are for him to know, but we also can't help but draw some sensible conclusions. As long as we keep in mind that this is just how we interpret it.

I do understand being wary and taking a step back. And the changes happened mostly during the height of the pandemic and currently. I remember watching some of his vlives from 2019 when he used to mention his friends. He wasn't giving personal details which is understandable, but he was telling stories. Now there's none of that. And it happened at the same time or perhaps when he was becoming very very private. More than he used to be. I'm not trying to say there's something bad in particular with this, it's just an observation. To me it looks like a conscious decision and in that case, I can't complain that I want more from Jimin just so I can be entertained.

Did I get a bit frustrated of how evasive he is even whilst talking about his album? Yes, I admit that. It's because I like to hear about the process, of the artist trying to explain in depth the concept, the themes, if/how personal experiences shape that. A lot of them do and they are opening themselves up and they show vulnerability in a way. Sometimes it's not that deep and other times it's painful. But what I have to remind myself is that ultimately, it's a choice. Just as I as a private, regular individual have trouble sometimes talking about my life with certain people, then the same can be available for artists.

On the other hand, being able to talk about one's art without revealing personal "secrets" it's also possible. You just have to know how to do it. Jimin has been active in the industry for more than 10 years and he's an experienced idol, but talking about group concepts and then having to do that about your own album that encapsulates personal experience is a different game. Which is why I can understand that as well and I think that I should cut him some slack because this was the first time he had to do it on his own. He'll get better and better as the years go by.

I'll add a little observation here. Kidergarden teacher is mostly a joke and he put on that role even while watching his Like Crazy mv. Jimin from 5-7 years ago would've probably had a completely different attitude. I believe that what current Jimin is doing is an active calculated choice in how he wants to be perceived. This is the side that he wants to show for now in some specific contexts (an important observation), whether I personally like or agree with it. My two cents, not some definitive verdict.

Lastly, allowing the art to speak for itself is an understandable choice and a good one as well. In his case, the work Jimin does can actually speak for itself because there's something of value there. It leads to multiple interpretations which I think it's amazing. Once the music is out there, it belongs to the listener as well. We add meaning to it. We also add layers over layers of meaning to music videos and photofolio shoots and teaser images. Some may be far fetched, others outrageous and others sensible. We can agree or disagree with them. What's important is that they exist, without the artist having to give a 5k words explanation of each piece. Jimin's interpretation is one thing, but it's not the only correct one. That's not how art works. And that's why expecting him to talk in detail might seem redundant. As I said, it's a choice. If an artist wants to add more, then that's great. If they let mostly their art to do that, then that's fine too.

#m thoughts #jimin #jimin livestreams #jimin album