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jwnchstr · 10 months

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lewis hamilton’s bestfriend | l.h44

title: lewis hamilton’s bestfriend

summary: lewis hamilton having a big crush on you for years.

pairing: lewis hamilton x alina/you

my wattpad | other f1 fiction

the ground under my feet crunched once my foot stepped on the pebbled driveway. the feeling of being in a familiar territory makes my heart beats so fast. i was excited to be here after two months of constant traveling. good thing i have an understanding family even though if i could, i’d stay with them especially when my wife is heavily pregnant with our second child.

the familiar smell of english country side greeted my nose. it reminded of my childhood and the dream i had when i was a child. one of it was having and growing a family in the country that i was born and raised. after many tries and and a lot of patience, i finally got the woman of my dream. and i would never, ever let her go no matter what happened between us. she is everything that i want, love and the reason of my victories.

fresh flowers that adorn outside of the house brought a smile to my face especially when they reminded me of her. her, my wife. the one whom brought a lot of light in the house; the one who cheered for me when i was down; the one who gave me a beautiful son and soon a beautiful daughter. and every time i look at those flowers, i saw her tending them with gentle and a lot of love as they were her babies too. i love how she finds peace in gardening, though i believe she’s now 8-month pregnant, those flowers were taken care by our gardener.

my heart grows once i look up and see the house that i built together with my other half. it’s daylight but it glows as if i’m in heaven. even from the outside, even though it's quiet, but i can feel it being alive and i can hear my wife’s laugh from the outside and see her bright smile when she’s playing with our son. she’s literally angel.

“sir,” my driver called for my attention.

“yes, martin,” i answered him back though didn’t put my smile away from my face. i will never shy away when someone caught me drooling over my wife. there’s nothing i would like to hide because my feelings is real. and the woman i chased for years is mine now. i won’t hide.

“i've put away all your belongings inside your house, sir,” martin told me. “and i believe your butler is taking care of them now.”

i nodded my head understood. "thank you, martin.”

“is there anything else, sir?”

“no, martin. thank you for driving me back home.”

martin nodded his head politely before turning back to my car to take it back to the garage. but before he hopped in, i called him. “yes, sir?”

“take a week off, would you?” i offered. “take your families on a holiday. spend time with them. take one of my cars if you need them.”

“sir, i don’t think that’s necessary. what if you want to--”

“i’ll be fine,” i cut martin off. “i can drive for my family and myself, in the meantime, though i might need your help after my wife delivered our second baby.”

martin smiled from ear to ear, excited to hear my offer. there must be thousand of plan in his head right now. “thank you so much, sir.”

“see you in a week, martin.”

without waiting for his answer, i headed straight towards the front door. and without knocking or waiting for my butler, i opened the door myself and entered and expecting my family would be there waiting for me inside. however, they were not there though i was not disappointed. according to my actual schedule, i should be home next week, but i booked a flight ticket one week earlier because i can’t wait to be home anymore.

i was greeted with the smell of baby powder and baby songs on the television from the family area. a smiled to myself as i imagined my son edmund watching the television by himself whilst his mother cooking in the kitchen. however, when i got there, i couldn't find any signs on him.

i thought of giving edmund and my wife (alina) a surprise. without calling out from them, i tried looking for them in discreet. i checked on every room on the first floor including the pantry and the washroom. however, they were not there either. my heat started beeping hard in my chest. it’s wrong to think negatively about them but i can’t help myself to. what if my wife was already on labour? what if something happened to my wife? what if she passed out and nobody’s home to check on her?

i told myself to calm down and that bad happened. my prayer was answered when i reached the landing on the second floor and heard my wife's small and soothing voice talking to my son. a heavy sigh escaped my lips. my heart instantly calmed down as a big smile landed on my face. i walked straight towards a familiar room at then end of the hallway. the display room. it’s where i hung my pictures and displayed my trophies and victories.

“did you see that? see, that's daddy. he’s about your age in that picture,” i heard my wife saying. i wondered what my wife was talking about and until i reached the entrance of the display room, i saw my heavily pregnant wife, carrying edmund in one arm while pointing to a picture of a younger version of me, holding a controller of my first controlled toy car with the other arm.

“what's he holding, mommy?”

“a controller.”

“what’s that controller for?” asked my son. though at two, his vocabulary is better than i was.

“a controlled toy car.”

edmund kept quiet. i believe his mind was processing what my wife just told her.

“did you see that little toy car over there?”

edmund nodded his head.

“so daddy controlled that cay with the controller in his hands.”

“how did he do that?”

my wife chuckled softly for a moment before answering, “you have to ask daddy, that one.”

“can i get one?” my son requested.

“yes,” i quickly answered before my wife could. “yes, you can.”

upon hearing my voice, both alina and edmund turned around. once they saw me and confirmed that it was me, a surprised smile crept onto their faces.

“lewis!” alina breathed out. like i said, my initial flight was next week. but i book an early ticket to see my family.

my son wiggled his body, begging to be set free. though there was no voice coming out from his mouth but the look on his face enough to tell me that he was as excited as his mother to see me. and i was also excited to see him and to get to play with him. getting the hint, my wife let edmund down to his feet and he ran towards me.

edmund threw himself towards me.

“hey, little dude!” i quickly picked him up and kissed his cheeks. oh, i miss his chubby cheeks and his smell. "did you miss me, little dude?"

my son didn't answer me but he threw his arms around my neck and hugged me so tightly like expressing his feelings through that hug instead of through words. it made my heart warms. i could feel the burn at the back of my throat as i held back my tears with edmund’s gesture.

“i miss you, too, buddy. i missed you, too,” i said softly beside his ear as i swayed right and left and caressing his back. i remembered doing this to put him to sleep when he was very little. though he’s still very little now and i wished i get to do this until he’s 18. i don’t care if i’m old as long as i can hold him again.

when i look up, my wife’s eyes locked with mine. through her expression, i can see that she had mixed emotion in her eyes. she's happy and still very surprised to see me here even though i was holding our son and soothing him. her eyes was watering. a happy kind of tears, i hope because i know i didn’t win the driver’s championship this year, nor the constructor’s championship. she looked tired too. i mean, why wouldn't she not feel that way? she's due in a few weeks!

i stopped caressing my son's back and offered my hand to my wife. “hey, baby.”

alina took my hand and i brought her hand to my lips. her hand barely left my lips when she found an angle and stole a kiss from me. good thing edmuns was used to us showing affections. he didn’t show any signs of protest as he watched us expressing our love through the kiss.

and oh! the kiss felt like it’s out first time as husband and wife. it’s the best kiss ever! if i could stay in this position, i would with no complains. we both sighed through the kiss. happy, content, calmed. we've separated for two months. and with her being pregnant, i know it's hard for her to deal with her emotion. she needed support from me. if only my job didn’t require me to constantly travel, i would stay with her throughout her second pregnancy.

“aw, baby, don’t cry,” i sushed her. my thumb wiping her tears away. “shhhh.” i kissed her head as i brought her close to my body. my arm snaked around her waist and caressed her side.

“you’re early.”

“yeah, i booked another ticket as early as i could. i missed my family,” i answered. “how are my girls?”

alina freed herself from my embrace. “we’re good,” she answered while taking my hand and put my palm onto her big belly. feeling the pressure, our little girl kicked my hand. my heart felt like it wants to explode knowing that we’re growing another healthy child inside my wife’s stomach.

my wife winced but managed to smile through the pain. “she missed you.”

“i miss her, too.” i look at my wife's face and my son's. “i miss all of you.”

i ran my hand through my son's head, kissing him another few times, cherishing the moment with him and my wife. edmund is strangely quiet though i hope it’s only for a while because i can’t wait to buy and play a controlled toy car with him.

#lewis hamilton #f1 #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fanfiction

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looselipssinkships-x · 8 months

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fall out boy lyrics that make me think of the places i grew up

this town is wasted and alone -- death valley -- when i visit, if I'm lucky i get to drive around, and the nothingness is crushing. You go to school, you graduate, if you're upper or middle class you go to college, probably the local one an hour away. You have to drive an hour to get to the good grocery store, twenty minutes to the shitty one. You marry your high school sweetheart, or someone you met in college, you settle down and have kids. You have at least one family member who works for a company you're pretty sure is still just a factory, even though they have fancier names for it now. I look out the window of my parents' house and i can barely see the neighbors' house.

you were the last good thing about this part of town -- grand theft autumn/where is your boy -- i left my best friend in the city i moved from and god i miss her so fucking much. Every time i visit it's like we were never apart. Every time i leave we both wonder if we'd have made it had i not moved away.

i can't remember the good old days -- 27 -- your parents' house is supposed to feel like being a kid, running around carefree. I have not lived with my parents for eight years but every time i visit i wake up with that same chest crushing anxiety and it does not go away. Even when i get back out east it takes me days to feel like a person again.

every pane of glass that your pebbles tap/negates the pains I went through to avoid you/and every little pat on the shoulder for attention/fails to mention I still hate you -- chicago is so two years ago -- i did not visit for almost two years, and then only did so because my grandmother was dying. Had she not been, it would have likely been so much longer. I spent those two years hating that small town, because i thought if i hated it i wouldn't miss it, and it all hurt so much that it wasn't hard to try to hate it. (that didn't work, because even though it hurt, it was still home)

I know I should be home/all the colors of the street signs, they remind me of the/pickup truck out in front of your neighbor's house -- chicago is so two years ago -- it's the little things that get me, the parts that weren't so bad, the parts that were even good, the parts that killed me to leave behind. The first dance class i took out east i sobbed the entire two mile walk home.

whoa, can't do it by myself -- reinventing the wheel to run myself over -- this one gets me because every time everything just feels like too much, it's amplified by the fact that i did this to myself, i chose to move away from everyone and everything i ever knew, and it's therefore my responsibility to indeed, do it by myself

we're the kids who feel like dead ends//and the poets are just kids who didn't make it -- i've got a dark alley and a bad idea that says you should shut your mouth (summer song) -- literally all of my friends from home don't quite fit the midwestern mold, and we're all mentally ill creative types. We're in our mid twenties now and have felt like burn outs for years

I swear I'd burn this city down to show you the light -- sophomore slump or comeback of the year -- the same best friend from earlier. I worry the small town is crushing her and she's so, so bright.

the best way to make it through with hearts and wrists intact is to realize two out of three ain't bad -- i'm like a lawyer with the way i'm always trying to get you off (me & you) -- you make sacrifices to survive. Mental, emotional, physical, everyone's sacrificing something just to make it through.

it's all a game of this or that, now versus then/better off against worse for wear/and you're someone who knows someone who knows someone/I once knew, and I just want to be a part of this -- hum hallelujah -- the duality of living in such a small town where everyone knows everyone and still feeling like you have no place to belong

literally all of g.i.n.a.s.f.s. but especially: everybody wants to drive on through the night if it's a drive back home//things aren't the same anymore, some nights, they get so bad//i sleep with your old shirts and walk through this house//it's a strange way of saying that I know I'm supposed to love you, I'm supposed to love you//I've already given up on myself twice third time is the charm//threw caution to the wind, but I've got a lousy arm -- ioh was my first fob cd, and i listened to it on repeat the summer i spent commuting from my parents house to the hospital in the city to camp until i finally got an apartment. This was also the year i spent coming out to myself, terrified of the future and expectations i knew I'd never meet. I was also in love with one of my best friends and god it hurts so much for your first love to feel so wrong

I will never end up like him/behind my back, I already am -- headfirst slide into cooperstown on a bad bet -- when i first moved to the east coast i swore I'd assimilate and no one would know where i came from, but the second I'd open my mouth it would be "oh what part of the midwest are you from?" Over time I've learned to make peace with the parts of myself that are so unavoidably rural and midwestern, but there were parts i resented for a long time, because it felt like I'd never be free from where i grew up

I don't know where I'm going/but I don't think I'm coming home -- alone together -- i remember driving home from a college course i was taking my senior year of high school and just, dreaming of driving on, starting somewhere new

and in the end/i'll do it all again -- the kids aren't alright -- if things had been different, if i'd grown up differently, i wouldn't be who i am today. Also i almost got these lyrics tattooed on my thigh. Still might tbh

you were the sunshine of my lifetime/what would you trade the pain for?//and I just about snapped, don't look back//what would you trade the pain for? I'm not sure -- love from the other side -- leaving was, and is, so goddamn hard. Every time i visit my best friend, my grandparents, i have to remind myself why i left, and why i can't go back, and so much of that focuses on looking forward because if i look at the past too much i begin to romanticize the pain

scar crossed lovers, forever -- heaven, iowa -- i am so inexplicably, irreversibly bound to the people i grew up with like some sort of fucked up trauma bonding. Out here on the east coast, in the cities, it's just different. Even people who grew up east coast "rural," it's not the same. It's strong with friends from the city i moved from and even stronger with my friend who grew up in the same county.

#fob #fall out boy #moving #so much for stardust #take this to your grave #actually a lot of take this to your grave #infinity on high #folie a deux #american beauty american psycho #save rock and roll #from under the cork tree #song lyrics #this got long #midwest #east coast #transplant #long distance friendship #long distance

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our-blood-is-our-ink · 1 year

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Princess

Ship: Claire Debella x Reader

Summary: Claire's stressed, and she's very obviously not wearing a bra underneath her dress... Understandably you can't help but want to rail your wife.

Word Count: 3.6k

Disclaimer: 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warnings: smut, fluff, daddy kink, choking (technically), vibrators, strap-ons, humiliation, degradation, praise, pet-names (general, sexual)

Claire moans softly as you press your thumbs against her clothed nipples.

“My little one is such a whore.” You coo. “Wearing a dress like this without a bra? Really babe? It's like you want me to bend you over the nearest available surface and fuck you dumb.”

Claire shivers. “I thought you liked it when I wore things like this.”

You move your thumbs away slightly to admire how clearly her pebbled peaks can be seen through her off-white dress.

“You brought the vibrator, right?” You check.

Claire nods easily. “Yes.”

“Yes, who?” You nudge.

Claire flushes, and she glances around before whispering, “yes, daddy.”

“What was that?” You question, grinning wickedly. “I didn't catch it.”

Claire shifts her weight, fidgeting with the skirt of her dress, swallowing hard.

“Yes, daddy.” She repeats.

Her voice is still quiet, but it's loud enough someone could overhear.

You hope someone does. These so-called friends of hers need to be reminded that Claire is actually wanted by someone.

“Good girl.” You purr. “Let's get to our room.”

“Right now? With a murderer on the loose?” Claire is scared, you can tell by the way her voice pitches and how her fingernails dig into her arms.

“Right after- Duke?”

You instantly soften.

“Do you want us to? You can say no, lovebug.”

She pushes a hand through her hair.

“Is it bad that I do?”

You blink, before rushing to reassure her. “No, babe, no. Everyone copes differently.” You pause, judging the look on your wife's face before offering, “let me make you feel better.”

After a few moments of silence, Claire takes your hand in hers, pulling you along as she carefully checks the corners on the way to the shared room Miles assigned the pair of you.

When you get there, it’s ransacked, but when Claire starts to say something about it, you shake your head.

“Worry later.” You say. “Let's find the vibrator and worry about the rest of this later.”

Turns out, you didn't have to look very hard, the bright pink toy having been dumped out of Claire's bag onto the bed.

You shove everything else off.

“Some of that is expensive!” She protests.

“And they'll still be expensive for having been on the floor.”

Claire frowns.

You sigh.

“Do you want me to pick it up?”

She bites her lip.

“Maybe.”

Despite how annoyed you act, you really don't mind bending down and scooping everything up, depositing them on the cushionless couch.

“Alright, is this better, kitten?” You ask.

Claire nods in approval. “Thank you.”

You tilt your head in acknowledgement.

“Get on the bed.”

Claire obeys, crawling towards the headrest and giving you a view of her ass that has you groaning with lust.

“God, your body is perfect.” You can't refrain from commenting. “Daddy’s going to wreck it, she's going to you ruin you for anyone else.”

Your wife whines at your words as she settles against the pillows, legs falling as open as they can within the constraints of the dress, giving you a little peak.

She's not wearing any underwear.

“Claire.” You breathe out.

She smirks, and it sends a throb of arousal through you.

“Yes, daddy?” She asks coyly.

“You naughty kitten.” You meet her eyes briefly, before flicking yours back down. “You absolute naughty girl.”

“I thought you might have wanted to play with me at dinner.” She admits. “I just want to be your good girl. You know that.”

Your entire body shivers with want at her words.

“You're such a fucking slut.”

And suddenly you're crashing your mouth against hers in a bruising kiss, and the moan she releases into your mouth has you slipping your tongue into hers and fucking her with it as best as you can.

Her hands harshly grip at your back as they tug you closer to her, pulling you between her legs, and she whimpers as one of your knees presses against her exposed center.

You tangle a hand into her hair, and slide the other one underneath her to clutch at the back of her neck, using the leverage to press harder against her, and you reveal in the pathetic noises she makes, how desperately she tries to both kiss you and attempt to grind her core up and down against your knee.

She finally tries to pull away, but you won't let her, making her hands stop tugging at you, and instead lightly hitting you, demanding air.

You only tighten your grip on her, and wait a few more seconds before allowing yourself to be parted from her, panting breathlessly as you stare deep into Claire's eyes.

They're so blown with lust there's hardly any bit of blue to be spotted anymore, just bottomless black pits of utter want.

“You want daddy to make you feel good?” Your voice comes out husky, and Claire's eyes flutter shut at the sound of it. “Look at me when you answer me.” You chide.

She whimpers, but listens, and you reward her with a soft kiss.

“Good girl.” You whisper. “Now give me an answer, kitten.”

“Please.” She begs. “Wanna feel good.”

“Of course, princess.” You gently tug her into a sitting position, fumbling for her dress zipper.

She wouldn't be happy if you simply tore it off of her, no matter how erotic she may have found it.

Claire gently pushes you away, and stands on wobbly legs, allowing you to properly unzip her.

In one easy movement, your wife is now standing totally naked as her dress pools around her bare feet.

“Let me undress you, daddy.” She begs, her eyes heavily lidded as your own roam over the expanse of freshly revealed skin.

You smile at her, and settle onto the bed, leaning backwards on your forearms, causing your chest to be slightly pushed out.

“By all means.” You invite.

Claire can't seem to undo your dress shirt buttons fast enough, and one of them pops off, causing her to pause.

“The shirt's ruined now, might as well.” You encourage her, and her panicked look fades as something far more sinful takes its place as she tears the rest of the shirt off of you, leaving your top half exposed in the white colored lace bra you had chosen for tonight.

A startled breath of air escapes you as Claire latches her mouth onto the tiny bit of exposed area of your breasts, and you moan loudly, teasing her as she nips and sucks at you, being sure to leave behind a mark before pulling away.

“Please, daddy.” She begs breathlessly. “Fuck me.”

You smirk. “You have to get me out of these pants first, kitten.”

Claire moves to undo your belt buckle, when her hands still and her eyes widen.

Your smirk grows impossibly wider.

“You'll have to wait to take daddy's cock, princess.” You coo. “She wants to prepare you with the vibrator first.”

She audibly swallows, before continuing what she was doing, unlatching the buckle and tugging it apart, allowing your pants to become loose enough for you to gracelessly wiggle out of them with her help.

Claire's eyes don't just latch on how the large pink strap springs free, and you laugh softly at how round her eyes have gone, and her gaze shifts.

You meet Claire's eyes, still smirking.

“Seems we both had the same idea, huh, baby?”

The air is cool on your exposed center, the only piece of clothing still on you is your bra.

Your wife isn't the only one that discarded the idea of wearing any panties.

Her mouth is parted, hanging slightly open, and you can see as all thought drains from her, can tell the exact moment something more primal takes over her control.

“Fuck me.”

It's not a beg, it's a command.

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“Don’t be impatient.” You reprimand. “At least remember your manners.”

You reach a hand behind you to unclasp your bra, tossing it somewhere behind you.

“Pass me the vibe, and then get onto the bed and spread your legs.”

Eyes wide, your wife obediently does as you instruct, and you can't help but fixate on the way she slowly drips onto the bed sheets.

“I haven't even touched you yet, and you're so needy.” You taunt. “Are you really such a slut, so desperate and horny?”

Claire only whines in response.

“Aww… Has my precious little one gone all fuzzy headed?” You mock, exaggerating a pout. “Has my baby lost all her words?”

Claire whines again, and it sends a throb of arousal through you.

“Do you think you can stay still for daddy so that she can touch you?” You ask. “Does my kitten think she's big enough?”

Desperately, she nods, and you laugh condescendingly at her.

“Okay, babe, but that means you have to follow through, or else daddy’ll have to spank you.”

Claire nods a second time, and nearly cries with relief as you close the distance between you and her, clicking the vibrator on.

But instead of bringing it down to where she needs it the most, you decide to focus on her nipples.

“No!” She protests, trying to jerk away from the pink toy.

You immediately pull back and arch a brow.

“No?” You question. “I thought you said you'd be able to take it, like a big girl.”

Claire bites her lip.

“Oh, did you think I was going to make you cum? Is that it? Did you think daddy was going to be nice?”

Her face turns red at your mocking tone.

“‘M sorry.” She mumbles. “I'll be good.”

You hum noncommittally. “We'll see.”

This time, Claire tenses, but stays still as you gently hovor the vibrator over a tit.

She stifles a cry as you finally allow it to make contact with the sensitive skin, and you frown at her.

“You know better than to hold yourself back, kitten.” You admonish. “Daddy always wants to hear what sort of job she's doing.”

A whimper works its way out of your wife at your words and you nod, satisfied.

And then you shift the vibrator, going from circling her areola to gently teasing her nipple, and Claire screams.

You groan. “Fuck, baby, you sound so pretty.”

Her hips buck, clearly searching for friction that you know she won't find, and you switch sides, making her scream again.

She's always so sensitive and loud, always unable to keep from giving away any pleasure she may be receiving.

Claire bucks her hips, desperate for some friction as she starts to sob at how painfully her nipples have quickly become, but you don't let up, only making a sound of disapproval before moving to straddle her so that her range of motion becomes limited.

“Daddy's not going to stop until you cum, princess.” You husk out. “She's going to make her baby all dumb and brainless.”

Claire's head thrashes about as she desperately tries to ground herself, her moans and screams echoing loudly enough you're positive someone will come running, thinking someone was hurting Claire.

You grin viciously.

Let her asshole friends see the things your tightly-wound wife allows you to do to her. Let them gawk as you bring Claire to the peak of the highest of pleasure over and over and over again.

“DADDY! FUCK!”

Claire finds the words as she cums from her nipples being stimulated alone, and her essence spills from her now weeping cunt.

“You're so beautiful, kitten.” You praise, gently pressing a soft kiss to her slightly sweaty temple. “I want you to get out one more for me, alright? Two orgasms, one for each side, and then daddy will fill you up with her strap, okay, baby?”

Your wife whines, but manages to nod her consent, and you dip your head down to gently suck at the nipple that had yet to be paid proper attention to, before switching, using the vibrator on the now wet bud, and softly sucking on the overly sensitive one.

It's not long before you can hear Claire sobbing out a second orgasm, her fingers tangling in your hair, desperately trying to get you away from her now painfully overstimulated tits.

You pull away, smirking at her as you shut the vibrator off and toss it somewhere along the bed, and she whimpers.

“P’ease.” She begs. “Wa’ you.”

“Big girl words.” You chide.

Claire often loses her ability to properly speak. The deeper in subspace, the harder it is for her to find the words and then get them out.

Your wife lets out a small sob.

“Need you.” She pathetically whines. “Need you in me.”

“Aw, princess.” You pout. “Do you need daddy's cock in you? You need to feel her filling you up and use you like a fuckdoll?”

“P’ease!” Claire cries out. “Wanna be your slut!”

“Oh, kitten.” You coo breathlessly. “Daddy is so happy to make that happen.”

You shift so Claire can now spread her legs, before you carefully line your strap up with her sopping wet pussy.

“You're all red and puffy for me, little one.” You press a kiss against her neck. “Are you ready?”

Your wife nods eagerly.

“Please.” She carefully pronounces.

You laugh lightly.

“Since you asked so nicely.”

You've hardly finished speaking before you enter Claire with one thrust, her soaking wet hole eagerly taking you in one go, and her moan is obscene.

“Fuck, kitten.” You bury your head into the crook of her neck, taking a moment to allow Claire to get used to the feeling of having your strap inside her, before lifting your head so that you can pull nearly all the way out, before slamming back in.

Claire's back arches and she somehow screams louder than she has all night.

“That's it, slut. Let daddy hear how good you're being fucked. Let her hear what a good job she's doing ruining her precious princess.” You growl, and you find yourself with one of your hands gently pressing against her neck.

The moan your wife lets out short circuits you, and you're thrusting hard enough the bed starts shaking in time with them.

“God, you're such a fucking whore. Taking daddy's cock so well like this, fuck. What would the world say if they knew what a fucking slut you are, hm? Would you like that? Would you like to know how many people would be so quick to say how badly they want to turn the big bad Claire Debella over their knees? I'll bet you'd love that, being handed out for anyone's free use, listen to how fucking pathetic you sound.”

You're merciless as the words spill from you, and Claire's eyes roll into the back of her head, the top half of her body arching so high off the bed you're a little surprised her spine doesn't snap in two.

“Fuck. Fuck.” You curse as your wife's scream cuts itself off halfway through, and you know she's cumming again.

You don't stop, brutally pounding into her as her hands viciously claw at your back, and you're sure it'll leave cuts behind, for all that your wife keeps her nails shorn, they've always been sharp, even short.

“What the hell…”

Your head snaps in the direction of the door, and you find Lionel standing in the middle of the doorway, eyes wide as he takes in the scene.

You smirk as you see Birdie pop her head around his shoulder.

“What, like I'd let anything hurt her.” You scoff, not stopping your movements for a moment.

Just because you got caught doesn't mean you feel the shame in it.

“Now if you'd please leave? I'm in the middle of something very important here.”

“Wouldn't it be more fun if we joined?”

“No.” You and Lionel somehow share an exasperated glance at Birdie's suggestion.

Claire's whisper gets your attention.

“Daddy.”

Her face is bright red, and her eyes are watering with tears.

You haven't even realized you had stopped your motions.

“It's okay, Claire bear.” You soothe. “They were just leaving.”

Your wife swallows, but nods, before looking at her two friends expectantly.

You know there's a shared history between the three of them, from before you had come along.

You expect Claire to think you're upset at her for them having taken a look because of that, rather than truly having accepted her past with the two of them.

“Leave.” You say when they don't move, their eyes still glued to Claire's naked form. “I'm not asking.”

Lionel shakes his head then, looking embarrassed, tugs Birdie away, who keeps her eyes on Claire until Lionel shuts the door behind them.

“Well.” You turn back to Claire. “That could've been worse. It could've been Blanc. Or Miles.” You lean down and press a gentle kiss to Claire's lips, to convey you're not upset. “Are you alright, lovebug? Do you want to continue?”

She nods shakily. “Wanna forget.” She whispers.

“You sure? It's okay to stop if you want to, Claire.”

She nods again, more strongly this time. “Make me forget.”

“Your wish is my command, princess.” You whisper back, and Claire gives a small smile before you crash your lips against hers while simultaneously resuming the way your hips had been driving your strap deep into her.

Her moans and gasps are swallowed by your mouth, your tongue exploring every inch she has to offer, and you can tell she's close by the way her hands harshly grip your shoulders.

You break off the kiss.

“Cum for me, kitten. Let go. Daddy's got you.” You roughly say.

Your words are like magic, and Claire sobs as her orgasm overtakes her.

“Gonna keep fucking you until you can't think.” You growl as Claire's hands push against the expanse of your upper chest, clearly becoming overstimulated and over sensitive. “That's what daddy's baby wanted, right? To forget? Then let daddy do this for you, kitten.”

“Daddy!” Claire cries out. “Fuck!”

You chuckle low in your throat. “Such a filthy fucking mouth my little one has.” You tease. “How would you feel if daddy forced it quiet, hm, kitten? You want daddy to fuck your throat the way she's fucking your fucking slutty pussy?”

Your wife screams as you thrust particularly harshly into her, and then she's gone again, convulsing around you as she comes undone yet again, and she starts sobbing as you refuse to let up, watching her face in awe.

It must be something about this particular situation you've found yourselves in that Claire is able to cum over and over again so easily like this, with hardly any build up in between each one.

Your hand finds its way back around her neck as you taunt her.

“You like the fact we got caught, didn't you?” You laugh. “You're such a fucking attention whore. You love the idea of someone walking in again and finding you too stupid to do anything more than lay here and take. Every. Bit.” You punctuate your words by brutal pounding in and out, brushing against Claire's g-spot as her eyes roll wildly as her head tosses every which way, despite the hand you have around her neck.

Words seem to have finally fully left your wife, and the only sounds coming from her are ones of primal pleasure, and you reach your free hand down in order to rub gently at her swollen clit.

Once more, Claire screams as she orgasms, her body arching as she bucks her hips against you, before she suddenly falls limp, her eyes fluttering shut.

You can't help feeling self satisfied as you carefully, carefully pull out of her, watching with deep fascination as her hole continues to gush as her body twitches.

You lay a tender kiss against her now thoroughly sweaty temple.

“I'll be right back, lovebug.” You promise softly, even though you know she won't hear you, slipping off the bed and headed into the bathroom, finding a washcloth and running it under warm water, before returning to Claire, who's breathing has evened out.

Gently, you start running the washcloth over her sticky inner thighs, before working your way over her core.

Claire whines softly, but when you glance up, she's still out cold.

“I'm just cleaning you up, princess.” You soothe. “I know you're sensitive, but daddy just wants to be sure you don't get all icky.”

You keep talking in a low, reassuring voice as you finish your task, when Claire's voice rasps out.

“Thank you.”

You meet her blissed out gaze and smile indulgently.

“Of course, lovebug. Let me finish, and then we'll cuddle, alright?”

“Mmmmkay.” Your wife hums cutely, and you can't resist pressing a loving kiss against the warm skin of her thighs.

You go over a few areas that still seemed a bit sticky, before tossing the cloth in the same direction you had tossed the vibrator earlier.

“Okay, Claire bear.” You hush out, moving upwards until you can comfortably settle against the pillows, pulling Claire close to you, against your chest.

“I love you.” She whispers into your skin.

“I love you.” You reply, kissing the crown of her head. “Now rest, little one. You deserve to relax. I've got you, I promise.”

Your wife adorably sighs against you, and you can feel your own eyes closing as the sound of Claire's gentle breathing soothing you to sleep.

You know it won't be a long nap, but a break, especially for Claire, from all the stress can only serve to help, not harm.

And for right now, for these few, precious moments, there's no one else in the world but for the two of you, intertwined.

#sky writes #claire debella #claire debella x reader #c: claire #c: sub!claire #kathryn hahn #glass onion #glass onion spoilers #spoilers for glass onion

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wavesoutbeingtossed · 1 month

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I have thoughts about the TTPD speculation/two years/loneliness/sharing feelings through songs train but I'm putting them under a cut because. Yeah.

OK, so I'm giving a warning:

I'm talking about BTTWS, but NOT about the speculation/inspiration behind it. Just about the feelings in it and the Midnights of it all/the idea that sharing the difficult things brings comfort/companionship. So getting that out of the way so we can remove that part of the discourse out of it.

Regardless of whatever the inspiration/event behind BTTWS may be, whether it's about a loved one or personal, I've long felt that its inclusion on Midnights, an album about things that have kept her up at night, is significant in the feelings it portrays.

For instance, we can be fairly certain that Taylor wasn't actually turning in Scooter B. to the FBI and conspiring with his ex-wife to bring him down (or was she?) in Vigilante Shit, just as we can safely guess that she probably did actually pick up that pebble in Wicklow that reminded her of a peaceful time in Sweet Nothing. The line between fiction/reality, personal vs. narrative matters less on Midnights in this case than the feelings she was expressing in the songs, which are very personal and truthful. The revenge fantasy in Vigilante Shit is her working through her anger over having her masters stolen and how she's fought hard to have the last laugh over someone who is a sworn enemy. Sweet Nothing is her reflecting on the dichotomy of her (presumed) quiet home life she felt was safe and the noise of the outside world. (Now, we might speculate on why she was ruminating on this, but that's another story.)

So with that preamble out of the way, BTTWS's inclusion in the tracklist I feel is just as important, again regardless of the inspiration behind it or her personal connection to it. Even if it is a song about someone other than herself, including it as the only "not personal/not diaristic" song on an album as ostensibly self-reflective as Midnights would stick out if that were thecase, though obviously it's her album so she can do whatever she wants and could have her own reasons. (Just like she included Ronan on Red and Soon You'll Get Better on Lover about similar themes, it could just be a tribute to a loved one.) But given all the thematic arcs and parallels on Midnights, I do feel like it's there to include a specific set of feelings being processed, even if the origin on the feelings may or may not be her own. (I'm trying to be really sensitive in my word choices here, hope they make sense.)

BTTWS is a song about loss and grief, and specifically the fallout of an event outside of her/the narrator's control. The person in the song has nothing to turn to to deal with their pain: no faith to guide them, no wisdom to tell them everything will be alright. Throughout the song there is a pervasive sense of isolation: everything is over, they're living without something that was once theirs but suddenly was not. It captures the fog and confusion of living through a painful event without having any way to process. She even says from the start that, "no words appear before me in the aftermath," which for someone like Taylor who has stated over and over how writing is literally how she processes her life would be the ultimate reflection of the depths of her hurt.

(To be clear I do not think this is a song about a breakup whatsoever: IMO it clearly is not about a relationship dissolution of any kind. I just think that the feelings of grief and loneliness in the song may have felt relevant to whatever she was going through during the time the album was coalescing in 2021-22.)

Knowing what we know now about at the very least the period between 2021-2023, Taylor was going through a time of significant difficulty in her life behind the scenes, which is how The Tortured Poets Department came to be, right on the heels of her completing Midnights sometime in early 2022. She has said herself that making TTPD was a lifeline, that she had to keep writing to deal with whatever it was that she was experiencing and going through. And as I posted about earlier today, she's also said repeatedly on tour that not only is writing about her feelings how she processes her pain and loneliness, but that then sharing that music with fans brings her great comfort because it makes her feel less lonely to know people understand and relate to what she's going through.

And we know that she has self-edited her albums over the years (including Midnights) to protect herself and perhaps even the subjects of her songs, which we have seen with the inclusion of the vault/bonus tracks in the re-records and on Midnights. Obviously some of these reasons are logistical -- album was too long, cut songs sounded too much like others, maybe she or her producers felt the ones that were originally chosen were stronger, narrative or sonic cohesion, etc. -- but with what we've seen over the last few years, these songs also filled in the lines of the stories being told and reframed the narrative being told.

Nowhere is that clearer than with You're Losing Me, for example. It's pretty obvious why it was held back: presumably she wouldn't want to release a song about a relationship at its breaking point when she was still actively in the relationship. Yet as soon as the relationship ended, she released it, we can only assume because of her realization that sharing the music and having people respond to it validates her feelings and makes her feel embraced, as it were. Then with the announcement of TTPD and how it's been brewing for essentially the intervening period between when YLM was written and now, we can also surmise that these songs will be dealing with feelings she also felt the need to hold back for whatever reason at the time, but has now decided should be out there so she can feel more whole.

So coming back to BTTWS, it being included on Midnights the way that it was strikes me as a form of sharing feelings that may have been too difficult to process. Again, not implying I have any insight into what the origin of the song is about, or imposing my own beliefs onto her, or that she was sending some sort of secret message with its inclusion! But thematically, BTTWS deals with an intense loss and feeling completely unmoored and alone as a result, which is present in her other work. And that the dreams the narrator once held have gone up in smoke, leaving her reeling about what's to come next. She's cut off from the world because of the event, unable to speak about or grasp what has happened. Similar feelings are also explored in You're Losing Me for instance, and even Dear Reader (not to mention on past albums like evermore, this is my trying, arguably hoax, etc.). Just reading context clues from TTPD and her surprise song choices of late, I don't think it's outrageous to presume some of those emotions are going to be present on the new album as well.

So this is just a long-winded way of saying, I feel like the sense of loss, confusion and uncertainty about the future likely resonated with both what she had gone through in the past, and the story as a whole she was trying to tell on Midnights. And while the origin may or may not be personal or relevant to the new story she's going to tell, I also feel like these same kinds of themes are going to be present on TTPD because they're so important for her to share. (I could even mention that the response to BTTWS may even provide evidence that people sharing their experiences in general brings comfort to those going through it, but that may be veering too far into parasocial "why did Taylor do X" speculative territory.) She sings about these kinds of all-consuming losses so eloquently and mindfully that I know the new album is going to be an absolute gut punch.

(not being self-promotional but I delved a little deeper into the Midnights 3am tracks including this one a few months ago so it's why it's top of mind and why the connections and thematic parallels are so resonant to me lately.)

#sorry i tried to tread very carefully so i hope it still makes sense #i know we all kind of talk around this stuff so I was trying to do the same #while leaving room for interpretation and not getting stuck on the content!#i'm just talking about mood here etc #me thinking too hard about taylor lyrics #writing letters addressed to the fire #midnights #putting it under a cut may have been overkill on my part #but just trying to be mindful of people's dashboards etc #you're losing me #ylm #bttws #bigger than the whole sky #(bttws is a song i have thoughts on but not thoughts about its origin so much as its *metaphorical* (? idk) or perhaps narrative importance #(but it's hard to talk about it without the discussion turning into one about its origin)#(so this is my best attempt to do so)#just clarifying there is no speculation or discussion here just talk about themes #it’s not about the event it’s about the story being told in midnights

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orangedoorhingeinstorage · 3 months

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Rambly post about RW Qualia and mostly Five Pebbles

Old thing I wrote on a Padlet board of mine that I'm semi proud of, warning: rambly asf, also only took the base game as a basis. Enjoy!

The Ancient civilization and their descendants held their memories as something valuable, using pearls to archive them, those type being memory construct pearls. The concept of memories is closely tied to qualia: A personal experience, something that can’t be comprehended by another person completely other than the individual itself. They are sensations that are hard to convey through written language.

Five Pebble’s Pearl dialogue:

It's qualia, or a moment - a very short one. Someone is holding a black stone and twisting it slightly as they drag their finger across the rough surface. The entire sequence is shorter than a heartbeat, but the resolution is extraordinary.

A memory... but not really visual, or even concrete, in its character. It reminds of the feeling of a warm wind, but not the physical feeling but the... inner feeling. I don't think it has much utility unless you are doing some very fringe Regeneraist research.

With the advancement of bioengineering, they would take a step further and preserve raw memories and qualia of an individual in cabinet beasts at the memory crypts.

Shaded Citadel pearl:

“The assorted memories and qualia include:

Watching dust suspended in a ray of sun (Old age). Eating a very tasty meal (Young child). Defeating an opponent in a debate contest and being applauded by fellow team members (Late childhood/Early adulthood).”

Survivor and Monk’s campaign begin with memories of their time reunited with their family. Memories can also be seen in their dreams. And their journey consist of moving on from the past and those memories that hold them in the carnal plane and to enter into the spiritual one, as the many others who left their memories to be cherished by the carnal plane did, drawn to the void again and again, an endless drip drip drip

In Rain World, the previous civilization studied thoroughly the nature of the void, but for a time that was just restricted to only theory, and they only could understand the nature of transcendence after experiencing it themselves. To grasp the boundless infinite of the cosmic void.

Qualia also heavily influenced the naming convention of the descendants of the ancients and the iterators. With the benefactors names being more "ornate and lavish" due to their ego, great ambition and various titles. That being true to most of public figures.

As seen in 5P pearl dialogue, the iterators themselves share the concept of qualia, with Moon commenting on the Garbage Wastes pearl being hard to translate to you due to it being his personal experience.

Garbage Wastes pearl:“It’s written in internal language, or thoughts, so it is hard for me to translate so you would understand. It's a methodology for global ascension of course - quite good, although the Peripherists or the Slab Mongers certainly wouldn't agree!”.

It’s also seen in one Five Pebbles pearls that he tries to “experience” what is it being like a lower creature, to research the solution of the Great Problem, ascending the world. But even as an Iterator, he struggles to do so as he is godlike comparison, with his experience being different from the average creature. The Iterators know a lot, but they’re restrained due the taboo and their somewhat limited worldview.

Five Pebbles pearl dialogue: “It is the impression of being a small creature, like a wall climbing lizard, and looking up into the branches of a big tree. The last third is partly overwritten with a number series I vaguely recognize, but without my memory…”

Moon Survivor/Monk dialogue:“He's sick, you know. Being corrupted from the inside by his own experiments. Maybe they all are by now, who knows. We weren't designed to transcend, and it drives us mad.”

Moon receiving her first neuron:

We were supposed to help everyone, you know. Everything. That was our purpose: a great gift to the lesser beings of the world. When facing our inability to do so, we all reacted differently. Many with madness.

Outskirts Pearl:

This is true for all living things, but some actually break the cycle. That doesn't apply to you or me though, you are too entangled in your animal struggles, and for me not breaking that cycle is an integral part of the design. Our mantras keep repeating.

The best Five Pebbles can do is granting you the gift of communication, the mark of enligthment and lead you to the old path, as a definitive solution hasn't been found, and it is uncertain if SOS actually ever found one.

The bad news is that no definitive solution has been found. And every moment the equipment erodes to a new state of decay. I can't help you collectively, or individually. I can't even help myself.

Everyone had a theory. Some said that she did have a solution, but that the solution itself was somehow dangerous. These later became known as the Triangulators, who think that a solution should be inferred without being directly discovered. Some said she never had a solution, she just died. And when the systems broke down an erroneous signal was sent. One camp claimed that dying was the solution.

And that frustration of trying to comprehend the individual experience of everything in the World and solve the puzzle of The Great Problem leads him into trying to find a way out himself, not caring about others around him. Posing risk into himself and others.

FP: I'm tired of trying and trying. And angry that they left us here. The anger makes me even less inclined to solve their puzzle for them. Why do we do this?

EP: It is not a new idea, but it needs to be vented occasionally. What if there is no universal solution? What if perception is in fact existence, and when Sliver of Straw sent the triple positive it was not a mistake? What if crossing oneself out, or even just death, is the way? We need to consider the possibility.

#rain world #five pebbles #looks to the moon #rw ancients #One of the first attempts of mine to write something analytical so don't expect much #its a fun way to practice my english tho!#FP is misunderstood fr #way too many people babyfi him or say hes a straight up villain #I love him but I recognise the shit he did is straight up not ok lmao

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theinfinitedivides · 10 months

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listening to the PS:2 soundtrack again in an attempt to bite the bullet and psyche myself up to watch both films back to back in August(? that's the goal at least, if i get to watch it earlier even better) and i have been stuck on Veera Raja Veera for an hour and a half. i have also figured out my personal ranking for all versions of the song at last and it went about as well as i would have expected. it started to get too long for the f*cking tags tho so i decided to put in this post, we'll see how it goes from here—list is in order from least liked to most liked btw

5. going to start this off by saying i'm so so sorry to Gulzar but it's something about the rhythm for me. the lyrics are lovely but the way they are lining up with the music in the Hindi version,,,,,,, or failing to in certain parts,,,,,, it's not it. it's not it. it does well in the first minute or so and then heads downhill from there, and tbh it's not his fault i think it's just the sheer amount of syllables that they have to fit in compared to the original? and with that in mind it's not going to sound the same, obviously, but what salvages it from being a complete disappointment is the way we got both Shreya Ghoshal and Kavita Krishnamurthy as a duet in this year of our Lord 2023. Kavita, who still sounds the same as she did on the Dil Se soundtrack singing Satrangi Re and the Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam soundtrack and the Devdas soundtrack and the Yaara Dildaara soundtrack and the K3G soundtrack with Bole Chudiyan and Shreya Ghoshal who is a pleasure to listen to on practically everything she touches (Bajirao Mastani and Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi and that aalap just before her verse with Kavita here i'm looking at you) and— *inhales* *exhales* ok. do appreciate them letting Kavita take the 'चुन चुन चुन चुन / जाली रे जाली चिंगारी' portion in the Hindi translation bc she sounded beautiful there. (she always reminded me of Lata in that regard i think, and for some inexplicable reason i've by extension connected the two of them to Zohra Sehgal in some of her roles)

favorite line — 'दुश्मन पे टूटे जब | बिजलियों का वीर' / 'dushman pe toote jab | bijilyon ka vaar'. this is one of those times where the rhythm works in their favor and works well, and it leads perfectly into the rest of the verse imo. also @ that one guy going 'योद्धा~~' / 'yodhaa~~' at the very end of the song ty for your service

3. in contrast to the rhythm problems of the Hindi the Kannada recording is very smooth? i don't know if that makes sense as someone who doesn't speak the language but it's like water. like water in a stream just one after another going over the stones in the riverbed as it passes or the waves lapping against the side of the ship or the gentle sound wind chimes make when they hit against each other in the lightest breeze—the phrasing doesn't feel forced (ty Jayant Kaikini sir) and the syllables match the music as well as the original. ofc Rakshita Suresh and Sivasri Skandaprasad have a part to play with their solos in this sounding as good as it does, despite its ranking on my list (which will be explained in the next entry), and while i expected nothing less from Rakshita after Kirunage, this is the first i'm hearing from Sivasri and she blew me away. i had to listen to it several times to be able to tell them apart, and i might still be wrong bc their voice color is very, very similar, but they took what Rahman gave them and made it their own. (is it Rakshita that starts and Sivasri that continues? i'm thinking that it alternates between them with Sivasri ending that portion)

favorite line — 'ಮಳೆಗರೆವಾಗ ಬಾಣ | ಅಡಗಳು ಎಲ್ಲಿ ತಾಣಾ' / 'malegarevaaga baana | adagalu elli thaana'. this is where the river analysis stands out to me bc this feels like putting pebbles said river into a tumbler and rolling them over and over until they come out smooth and polished and just. right. (i am using the word smooth a lot to talk about the Kannada version sksksksk but can you blame me)

3. technically Malayalam and Kannada tie for third place on here (there is no fourth place. there is 4.75th place rounded up to fifth place and that belongs to the Hindi entry as previously stated) but Malayalam has the slightest edge for me. in terms of sound/pronunciation it's the closest to the original—i know most scholars believe that Malayalam descended from Tamil and split early on, so that might have something to do with it, but it sounds like a perfect cross between the flow of Kannada and the strength of the Tamil and ugh. pair that with Srinivas featuring and Shweta Mohan taking on that solo (by herself!!! and eating that sh*t like it was a duet!!!) and Rafeeq Ahamed as the lyricist and i play it almost as often as i play the original. (i was almost half expecting to hear the extension at the end in this version, that's how good it was)

favorite line — 'കടലിൽ ചുഴലി പോലെ | തവ നൗക കളിരമ്പി' / 'kadalil chuzhali pole | thava noukakalirambi'. i am in love with what Shweta does here, especially with the latter half of the line ('... നൗക കളിരമ്പി' / 'noukakalirambi') since she just heads straight into the 'വൻകടൽ...' and for some reason that is so auditorily pleasing to me. i don't have any rational thoughts behind that that's just how it is. her aalap before her verse is also breathier/softer than Shreya's if that makes sense but it fits her perfectly

2. Telugu. holy f*ck, Telugu. you put Shankar Mahadevan (i don't think i've ever heard him sing a bad song. ever. at least not what i've heard) and Chinmayi (Tere Bina???? Mayya Mayya???? Titli???? i'm still not over any of them from her????) in the same song you make every f*cking verse rhyme almost exactly courtesy of Chandrabose if Kannada is the sound of water then Telugu is pure silk and honey and the feel of something melting in your mouth and you expect me to stay alive? the actual f*ck? admittedly i may be biased bc one of my OCs is Telugu and i have been putting Telugu covers from my Bollywood playlist on loop for inspo but uh Rahman what the f*ck. what the f*ck am i supposed to do with that kind of genius

favorite line(s) — 'సమరం శ్రుతించైరా శిఖరం స్పృశించైర' / 'samaram shruthinchaira shikharam spushinchaira' & 'విధిగా తెగించైర | విధినే వదించైర | విలయం దరించైర | విజయం వరించైర' / 'vidhigaa thegincheyraa | vidhine vadhincheyraa | vilayam dharincheyraa | vijayam varincheyraa'. the f*cking alliteration? hello? also the 'veera raja veera' at the end of this version in particular gives me full body chills bc there is someone going up with the harmonization every time there's a new line. i don't know who it is but he's (they're? could be multiple vocals) going up and i am crying shaking throwing up on the floor having a spiritual experience etc etc

and finally 1. the top spot. the place where everything has been leading through this long ass piece that i have put you to suffer through

and ykw Tamil is pretty much self-explanatory i think: we bring Shankar back as we should but this time K.S Chithra (Asoka!!! Main Prem Ki Diwani Hoon!!! Bombay and Thoda Thoda from Indira/Priyanka and the live version of Jiya Jale that Rahman did in Dubai!!!) and Harini (also sang for Indira/Priyanka and featured on Varayo Thozhi from Jeans) are with him and Ilango Krishnan's lyrics take over and flatline me on the f*cking operating table. before it flatlines me however i break into goosebumps every time i hear it start, bc lbh it is impossible not to when you have the f*cking vocals coming in like 'காணீரோ? நீர் காண் | சோழ வெற்றி வாள் ஒன்றை காணீரோ? | ஓ அழகிய பூவே! செல்லுதியோ | மலரிடு போ சகி!' if you stay sane during that opening you are a liar get off my feed unfollow and block i don't want you anywhere near me for the next six years or however long it takes Mani Ratnam to make his next masterpiece. no coherent thoughts head empty MV playing on loop he and Rahman own me now they have the copyrights

favorite line (had to split everything into two blocks bc Tumblr was tryin to f*ck up my sh*t) — 'எம் தமிழ் வாழ்க வாழ்க! | வீர சோழம் வாழ்க! | ��ற்றமிழ் வாழ்க வாழ்க! | நல்லோர் தேசம் வாழ்க!' / 'em thamizh vaazhga vaazhga! | veera sozham vaazhga! | natramizh vaazhga vaazhga! | nallor thesam vaazhga!'. technically this isn't my favorite favorite line bc i have to do a seperate ranking for that below + it's exclusive to the Tamil version and i am trying to make this a wholistic review but. it's f*cking up there let's just say that. i think i mentioned in the tags of a different post of how i've been doing genealogy research and (in the process) tentatively confirmed the possibility of there being some South Asian descent from my dad's side, specifically Tamil or Telugu based on the stories/timeline of French occupation in the Caribbean and portions of the Indian subcontinent, and there's something in me that shifts every time we get down to the last twenty or so seconds and this hits. i don't know what it is, truly—maybe the remnants of the genes of my ancestors and their pride for their land, their language—but it's there and it's loud and if it's the right day at the right time i will start crying btw. full on sobbing like a little bitch. you didn't ask but i told you anyway

after all of *motions* that, i am also offering a bonus ranking of the section of VRV that makes me rewind every f*cking time it comes on in every language, bc it featured heavily in creating my eventual rankings and i would be remiss to not mention it. so here have this additional dive into my thought process during these trying times of hyperfixation rip

'आंधी से तेज़ | तूफ़ान से तेज़ | चुन चुन चुन चुन | जाली रे जाली चिंगारी | अंग अंग अंग अंग | लागे रे लागे अंगारे' / 'aandhi se tez | toofaan se tez | chun chun chun chun | jaali re jaali chingaari | ang ang ang ang | laagey re laagey angaare', Hindi — still at the bottom of the list here, but the inflection during the repetition ('chun chun chun chun' and 'ang ang ang ang') salvages it somewhat. nothing else to say it about it otherwise, since i already addressed Kavita's voice here earlier

'വാക്കാകെ നീ കാറ്റാക നീ | ശര ശര ശര ശരമേയ്ക | വേൽമഴ നെയ്തിട് | റ പറ പറ പറ വിറകൊൾക | പായട്ടെ പായ്വഞ്ചികൾ' / 'vaakkaaka nee kaattaaka nee | shara shara shara sharameyka | velmazha neythidu | para para para para virakolka | paayatte paayvanchikal', Malayalam — taking that third place as always, but its tied partner in the general rankings is higher up in this list for a change. i think the very last part ('പായട്ടെ പായ്വഞ്ചികൾ' / 'paayatte paayvanchikal') is what throws me off tho bc of the way they distributed the line, since on the first listen i was expecting them to go 'paayatte paayvan-chi-kal' and they chose 'paayatte pa-ay-van-chikal' instead. it's not like it decreases the overall quality of the song or anything it's just a very specific hang up i have. who knows maybe my preferred pronunciation would have f*cked with the meaning and we do not want that

'సుడిగాడ్పులా అడుగేయరా | సర సర సర సర | శరమే తనువే తాకగా | చర చర చర చర | చెలరేగాలి వేగంగా' / 'sudi gaadpulaa adugeyyaraa | sara sara sara sara | sharame thanuve thaakagaa | chara chara chara chara | chelaraegaali vegangaa', Telugu — this ties with Malayalam for third place and, much like it, my quirk is specfically with the last part ('చెలరేగాలి వేగంగా' / 'chelaregaali vegangaa'). my preferred is 'chelare-gaali ve-gan-gaa', they gave me 'chelare-gaa-li ve-gan-gaa'. again, not an issue, this is just me, i'm sure they knew what they were doing otherwise they wouldn't have recorded it like that in the first place

'ನೀ ಜ್ವಾಲೆಯು ನೀ ಗಾಳಿಯೂ | ಸರ ಸರ ಸುರಿವ | ಮಳೆಯಂತೆ ಶೂಲಗಳು | ಭರ ಭರ ಭರ ಭರನೆ | ಭೋರ್ಗರೆವ ಪಂಜುಗಳು' / 'nee jwaaleyu nee gaaliyuu | sara sara suriva | maleyanthe shoolagalu | bhara bhara bhara bharane | bhorgareva panjugalu', Kannada — there are at least two portions here that sound eerily similar to the original and that is why this version has moved up to spot two. it takes that water comparison i made and uses it to its advantage so much and it rotates in my mind like a rotisserie chicken at just at the right angle and it's just!!!! it's just!!!! God pls keep me from putting this in my mouth and biting it's too good

'கூற்றாகிச் செல்... | காற்றாகிச் செல்... | சர சர சர சரவெனவே | மழை தான் பெய்திட | பர பர பர பரவென | பாயட்டும் பாய்மரம்' / 'kootraagi sel... | kaatraagi sel... | sara sara sara saravena | velmazhai thaan peidhida | para para para paravena | paayattum paaimaram', Tamil — when this hits i blank out and come to at random intervals. cannot pinpoint the time the place etc but it happens and when it does i go f*cking feral. this one i am indeed putting in my mouth and biting bc the entire thing from 'para para...' onwards??? more alliteration more alliteration more f*cking alliteration. i remember someone making a post on here that said that certain parts of VRV sound like pearls bouncing off of the floor (was it @mizutaama? i apologize for the tag but i think that was you) and i think this is what they were referring to but my ears are that f*cking floor. i thank God every day for that

anyway mutuals (and non-mutuals who are just as obsessed about PS as i am) i'm sorry for clogging your feed with my opinions on a film i haven't even watched properly, pls feel free to roast me about my ranking choices. or agree but it doesn't really matter at this point bc even tho i could be talking out of my ass in terms of actually speaking said languages (i,,,,, do not unfortunately) i've said what i needed to say sksksksk

#film: ponniyin selvan ii #ponniyin selvan ii #ponniyin selvan: ii #ps:2 #ponniyin selvan #veera raja veera #jayam ravi #sobhita dhulipala #mani ratnam #a.r. rahman #kollywood #tl:dr: local gay takes that specific 'கூற்றாகிச் செல்... / காற்றாகிச் செல்...' section of Veera Raja Veera #and uses it as the base for their personal ranking of all five versions solely based on how it is translated and sung #writes an essay about it chooses their favorite lines from said versions that are not That One and posts it to tumblr.com .txt #look!!! i actually dragged myself away from streaming Shinee long enough to complete this thing that i've had #sitting in my drafts for weeks (the language analysis that is)!!!#it is f*cking hilarious at this point simply bc this is nowhere near the order of the rankings for Ponni Nadhi #like the list for that is upside down. dare i say inverted almost #i might do something for it as well in this same format idk but #doing this for VRV made me realize that every other language (except Hindi bc they have a diff version of the line)#pronounces 'soora' as 'shoora'. i think Malayalam's 'shoora' is the least pronounced and is almost ambiguous. almost not quite #you could mistake it for 'soora' but there's just enough aspiration(?) there to tell you that it's not. Telugu's 'shoora' too #the aspiration almost completely disappears when listening on Spotify it's much more prominent on Youtube #this feels like i should have posted it on my studyblr but i think i'll just reblog it there instead

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kedreeva · 1 year

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Steddie + Richard Siken Quotes

If you're wondering about some other nice Siken quotes to go with these boys, since i have most often seen the jacket one, here's a bunch more:

"The way you slam your body into mine reminds me I’m alive, but monsters are always hungry, darling, and they’re only a few steps behind you"

"You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him"

"I’ve been rereading your story. I think it’s about me in a way that might not be flattering, but that’s okay. We dream and dream of being seen as we really are and then finally someone looks at us and sees us truly and we fail to measure up. Anyway: story received, story included. You looked at me long enough to see something mysterioso under all the gruff and bluster. Thanks. Sometimes you get so close to someone you end up on the other side of them."

"He was pointing at the moon, but I was looking at his hand." (hello Steve looking intently at Eddie while Eddie tries to tell him about Nancy)

"I crawled out the window and ran into the woods. I had to make up all the words myself. The way they taste, the way they sound in the air. I passed through the narrow gate, stumbled in, stumbled around for a while, and stumbled back out. I made this place for you. A place for you to love me. If this isn't a kingdom then I don't know what is."

"You go to work the next day pretending nothing happened. Your co-workers ask if everything's okay and you tell them you're just tired. And you're trying to smile. And they're trying to smile."

"Tell me we're dead and I'll love you even more."

"Let’s admit, without apology, what we do to each other."

"Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story."

"Because people die. The fear: that nothing survives. The greater fear: that something does."

"I wanted to hurt you but the victory is that I could not stomach it. We have swallowed him up, they said. It’s beautiful. It really is. I had a dream about you. We were in the gold room where everyone finally gets what they want. You said Tell me about your books, your visions made of flesh and light and I said This is the Moon. This is the Sun. Let me name the stars for you. Let me take you there. The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar cube… We were in the gold room where everyone finally gets what they want, so I said What do you want, sweetheart? and you said Kiss me. Here I am leaving you clues. I am singing now while Rome burns."

"For a while I thought I was the dragon. I guess I can tell you that now. And, for a while, I thought I was the princess, cotton candy pink, sitting there in my room, in the tower of the castle, young and beautiful and in love and waiting for you with confidence but the princess looks into her mirror and only sees the princess, while I’m out here, slogging through the mud, breathing fire, and getting stabbed to death. Okay, so I’m the dragon. Big deal. You still get to be the hero."

"You just wanted to prove there was one safe place, just one safe place where you could love him. You have not found that place yet."

"And no one can ever figure out what you want, and you won't tell them, and you realize the person who loves you isn't the one you thought it would be"

"I don't really blame you for being dead but you can't have your sweater back."

"This is my favorite part. It starts and ends here. The pebbles shine, the plan worked, Hansel Triumphant. Lesson number one: be sneaky and have a plan. But the stupid boy goes back, makes the rest of the story postscript and aftermath. He shouldn’t have gone back."

"Don’t leave the room until I come back from the dead for you. I will come back from the dead for you. [...] Leave the lights on. [...] I’m in the hallway again, I’m in the hallway. The radio’s playing my favorite song. Leave the lights on. Keep talking. I’ll keep walking toward the sound of your voice."

Anyway. Enjoy.

#steddie #stranger things #richard siken #quotes #I want to make gifsets of out of some these lol

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g0atmama · 6 months

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Found Me

All nine parts of Open Air, Helpess, and Firecracker combined into one post. Vorys belongs to @sneakygreenbean and Critter is @twilit-critter

Open Air

Vorys Seduri ; Open Air

Days sometimes dragged together. Washing the same dishes daily, in the same place, with the same people. Sometimes, though, things would change. Sometimes, Vorys would be visited in the middle of work by someone who brought everything to a screeching halt by her unexpected presence.

Today was one of those days.

When she arrived, he could tell. Not even hearing her, or seeing the high ordinators that always surrounded her when she left the temple. It was how people stopped whispering to each other. Stopped gossiping. Ze often ignored the whispers about them. There were a lot about hir relationship with the woman that was coming ever closer.

Then she came into view. She was speaking to others who passed, her voice like morning birdsong. Vorys couldn’t keep himself from looking, now. He could ignore the fact that she was coming closer until he could see her. Then he’d stare. His heart would flutter. She was smiling at a child, running up despite her father trying to keep a hold of her. A young mer, probably only a few decades old.

Vorys’ hands kept moving, but his eyes watched. Watched as the little girl offered Lady Ayem a frozen treat she had. It could easily be broken in half, but not for one as small as the girl. An ordinator to the right of the living goddess knelt down, offered to help. The little girl looked afraid for a moment, staring up at the mask. But, she ultimately gave the guard the treat to help break it. Half was handed back, the other to Almalexia.

With a sweet voice, she thanked the girl. Her father came up quickly, picking her up and apologizing- only for the goddess to laugh. She can’t fault children, they’re adorably innocent and don’t always understand decorum. She winked to the little one as her father turned away, taking a bite from the frozen treat.

Then, her attentions turned to Vorys, with an even greater smile. Closer, straight into the kitchen, to take his hand with hers and offer a bite of the treat. He flushed as he took one- part of his mind latched onto the fact that she had moments before taken one as well. And it wasn’t as if there was another part of this you could bite. No, his mouth had to go where hers had just been.

She waved her Ordinators to back up, to allow even a little space. They never went far. She smiled again, pressing a kiss to the corners of Vorys’ mouth. One left, one right.

“You’re taking tomorrow off,” She stated as an order, as a goddess. Then her tone shifted, an excited partner. A side of her she’s hidden for so very long, “There’s a gala coming soon, Vivec and Sil are bringing their partners. You need to visit with my tailors.”

It was a lot of information to take in at once. And it wouldn’t take just one day to-

“Actually, you may as well take a week off. We have a lot to do to get you ready.”

All Vorys could really do was laugh and roll his eyes. She was adorable when she acted like this. Sure, he loved the goddess, but this was a side of the goddess. One only he got to see. The part of her that is, still, mortal. That reminds him that she was once mortal.

She kissed him again, pulling his mind to focus. He’d be attending a gala as the Lady Almalexia’s partner. Her beau, as the Bretons would say. He couldn’t help the blush that crept up his face, which only made her laugh. She gently pressed, a small nudge and smile.

“I… Guess it’s a date.”

Critter ; Open Air

The Creature was in the garden. Kneeling, knees up close to its chest. It stared at a group of pebbles, small and insignificant to most others. And yet the Creature was enthralled by them. It moved one arm down, carefully pushing one over. It fell, revealing a streak of red.

Its eyes narrowed as it ran a clawed finger over the streak. Red, like its eyes. But this garden was made long before it had ever met Sil. Long before it ever came to this universe. It looked to another pebble, pushing it over.

It was more uniform. A tiny flicker of a smile crossed its face, as it thought of how odd that was. Describing a pebble as uniform. Only in the Clockwork City.

It sighed. It let itself lower down, letting its knees touch the ground before sitting completely. It picked up a handful of the pebbles with one pair of its hands. The other pair started picking through so it could look at each one. It didn't even know what it was looking for. Perhaps this was just something to do while Sil was busy. Perhaps it wanted to see how many had sudden streaks of color.

It was hard to startle the Creature. The Clockwork King never even tried to. He approached softly, stepped carefully and breathing the flowery scent of the garden. Holographic visions of his smiling sister appeared. He felt the right corner of his mouth flicker up into a smile. Nall would have loved the Creature.

"Moon," Seht called softly, pulling the red eyes towards him. The Creature spoke not, only staring. Slowly standing. "There is a formal event I am required to attend. A gala for the tribunal temple. I…"

His words wandered. His mind with them. The Creature's tail swished. The clothes it wore, there was nothing like it. Perhaps…

Perhaps he could find a tailor. Maybe visit his sister's city. Perhaps his brother-sister. Though he was sure there had to be tailors in his own, perhaps one of sufficient talent in the Brass Fortress. But would the Creature even like the feeling?

His eyes registered what the Creature was doing. Looking at stones. Pebbles. Hm, that was odd. Perhaps the Creature found it interesting that Sil had handcrafted each one. He had, hadn't he? Oh, suddenly he couldn't quite remember. Though he did recall creating some with a bit of extra color striking through. He remembered how much Nall had loved seeing stones with extra color.

"Sil?" The Creature's voice was raspy this time. It pulled his mind back from its wandering. Seht smiled a bit. More than usual, but still not very large.

"I would appreciate it if you accompanied me. Vivec and Almalexia will be having their partners. However, given that it has always been a very public event, I would understand if you'd rather not attend."

The Creature made a soft chittering noise from deep in its throat. It was thinking, mulling over the thought. It closed its eyes, the clothes on its body shifting, morphing in an amorphous blob Sil had no words to describe. Vivec would have found the words, he mused in the back of his mind.

"Will we wear matching clothes?"

The question caught the Clockwork King off guard. "If you wish to, I suppose we can."

Hannabi Sendas ; Open Air

Sometimes Hannabi really hated working for a Hlaalu. And not just as a House thing, sure she was Redoran, but that could be bearable if the man wasn't so stingy. She sighed deeply, devolving into a barely hidden groan as a customer approached to order some of the food.

Her face was starting to hurt from the fake smiles. But smile she did. It was an ordinator, carrying his helmet under his arm. One who came in quite often for his lunch, one her Hlaalu boss said eats for free. He wasn't getting food today, though. At least not yet. He asked if she had been given her break yet.

She had not.

The ordinator frowned. He put his helmet on, looking to the odd Telvanni scrying orb the boss had gotten. "Lord Vivec has an important discussion to be had with Lady Sendas. She will return only when the discussion is finished."

With that, the Ordinator nodded to Hannabi. She moved quickly, pulling the apron and gloves off to follow him to the Temple. Or… not? He instead led her to the little dining room in the building, where Vivec was waiting with another ordinator.

They had already had their lunch rush, so there were only a few people around. It seemed one had just spoken to the warrior-poet, returning to his seat with a quiet and respectful greeting to Hannabi. She sat across from Vivec.

His smile always made her heart flutter. His hands reached, taking hers. He kissed her hands, each of her knuckles. He noticed a tiny scratch and a barely-there bruise that hadn't been there that morning. The cleaning tools were always scratchy. And she kept bumping her hand into things.

He laughed. Her heart soared at the sound. He gently kissed the injuries, then looked to her with a mirror of the adoring look she was giving him.

“My dove, we will soon be attending a religious gala in Mournhold. You will have to take time off to get fitted for the dresses."

She blinked. A gala would be formal… she hadn't been somewhere formal in years. Decades. Not since her mother had dragged her and her brother to a Redoran event in an attempt to get them betrothed to bolster the Sendas family. Her mother was always so absorbed in rank.

And yet, there was excitement. A part of her always loved seeing the pretty dresses other women would wear. She loved all the fabrics and styles and patterns. Vivec could see it, how her eyes sparkled at the idea of getting to wear a dress her family could never afford.

Vivec hummed happily, pulling his hands away. Hannabi followed him as he stood, magic shimmering over her body. His own magic, illusions for his own mind. She couldn't see the outfits he was testing upon her. She couldn't see the myriads of colors he was testing upon her flesh. He wanted to bring out the vibrancy of her purple eyes.

"Mmh." He said after a long moment. "We'll summon tailors to attend your dress."

Helpless

Vorys Seduri ; Helpless

Ayem had taken Vorys by the hands the moment he entered the room. It was massive, extravagant tapestries draped all over the walls. The curtains were pulled, only one window remained open. A stained glass one, depicting the goddess herself. It cast the room in pale gold. The others were blocked by extremely heavy red curtains.

Vorys’ eyes wandered, looking around as Almalexia pulled him along. He took in the tapestries of the Three. The unfinished one still in the loom. His eyes lingered there, a flush creeping up his features. Was that…? It looked like him.

There was a third person in the room. Another dunmer, with her black hair in several braids. She smiled so warmly, offering a hand to help Vorys step onto the small platform surrounded by mirrors. He tried to keep himself from looking at them- he didn’t really want to look directly at himself. Not when he was in his work clothes, with Almalexia in her fine clothes right there. He saw a shimmer in the mirror.

Ayem now stood in a silk and satin dress. Indoril blue, with gold accents. Long, hugging her so tightly. It pushed her chest up, drawing her love’s eyes right to them. Then they moved, continuing down to take in all the sheer fabric that draped around her hips and shoulders. A piece between her arms-

The other dunmer cleared her throat. She held a tape measure now, gesturing to Vorys’ clothes. She smiled a bit. “Apologies, serjo. I’ll need you to take off your clothes so I can get a proper measurement. You can keep the underclothes, but…”

Vorys nodded. Almalexia stepped up to the pedestal, helping him get the clothes off. He couldn’t keep his face from heating up at how close she stood. The feeling of her hands on his back, pushing the cloth off… Then she stepped down again, giving a little twirl when she saw his eyes still locked on her. Letting him see how gorgeous she felt in the dress.

It was hours in that room. Hours of feeling different fabrics, seeing different colors laid over his shoulders. Hearing Ayem and the seamstress discussing patterns and cuts. They seemed to have an idea. An illusion was cast over his body, a false image of a robe. Loose, a few shades off from Telvanni brown. His head tilted, watching as Ayem and the seamstress took bunches of fabric, pinning it up like it wasn’t an illusion.

Ayem traced her finger in a shape over his chest. The illusory fabric vanished, leaving and open space. Another piece was draped over his shoulder, crossing over it. The goddess smiled. Yes, this would do nicely. She looked excited, suddenly jumping onto the platform to kiss Vorys.

The feeling made his heart skip a beat. The seamstress turned away, ignoring the display. Ignoring how Mother Morrowind held her love’s jaw with one hand, pulling him into another peck. She was so happy. So excited by all these ideas. Vorys couldn’t help mirroring her smile. The excitement was bubbling up in his chest.

The seamstress left, gathering up fabric. Ayem threw a glowing orb towards her- she caught it before closing the door, leaving the two alone. The illusory robe was gone, leaving him only in underclothes… Which she didn’t mind as much as he did. She hummed, laughing softly, when he started clothing himself again.

Critter ; Helpless

The Creature decided it would just shift its body to mimic clothing. Instead, it sat and watched as Sil was fitted and had loose fabric pinned all over. It looked like a mess. Honestly, the Creature couldn’t even tell what the tailor was trying to achieve. That was a lot of fabric.

But then… It still looked good, if it had to say. Maybe it was just because it was Sil. But the fabrics still confused it. Well… They had to know what they were doing. Right? Honestly, it would be fine if Sil just wore the same robe he always did.

But, Sil had told him, this was expected. He must do as his people expect of him. A formal robe he would wear only once. It didn’t really make much sense to the Creature. But then again, the Creature could wear anything it wanted. Technically speaking, that is. It never actually wore anything, only shifting its body. And that’s what it would do, after seeing what was made for Sil.

It would shift to match. Not exactly, but something nice. Something similar. They would compliment each other, even if it wasn’t seen by many. It would be happy knowing that they did. It watched, watched as many fabrics were lain over Sil’s shoulders and hips, sliced and cut and styled. It didn’t make any sense.

But, eventually, Sil was released. The fabrics still made no sense! But the tailor said he had what was needed. With a bow, the tailor gathered up his fabrics and started working. Sil gently took one of the Creature’s hands, leading it out of the workshop.

The artificial sun was high. It was about… Noon, probably. A pair of children raced past, playing tag. Born in the city. It made Sil smile, even as the Creature moved behind him, resting its head on top his crown like it was made for such a thing. Hm- maybe Sil should add a little indent for its comfort.

“You like seeing children in the city?” The Creature’s eyes watched the children play. Watched as they ran between the legs of factotums. Seht sighed deeply. Heavily.

“I enjoy seeing my city being as any other. Children are an essential part of any city. Seeing them at play means they feel safe and comfortable. It’s a glowing review, even if they don’t know it.”

The Creature snorted back a laugh. Of course Sil would feel that way. It should have known. It looked down. It blinked.

“So… The tailor knows what to do with all that?” Sil nodded in response. He conjured up a small image.

Only visible to himself and the Creature, Sil showed him the tailor’s plans. It would be a robe of sorts. Sort of a jacket. It would be white, reaching down to his shins. The fabric would be a bit loose, with a pattern of blue cubes around the shoulders and wrists. The Creature nodded a bit… Took a step back.

Sil turned to watch. Watch as the Creature started shifting, trying to mimic what the illusory image showed. Sil couldn’t help the laugh when he saw the Creature in exactly the same, just with red cubes. The sound was rare. It made the Creature smile.

“Maybe you shouldn’t match me exactly. Here, let me…”

Sil’s illusion became the Creature. It watched with fascination as Sil worked with it, making small changes. Moons instead of cubes. The pattern of moon phases wrapping around its wrists. Draping fabric resting atop its tail. Hm. Yes, it supposed that could do.

Hannabi Sendas ; Two

It didn’t take long for them to settle on a style of dress. Not even really a dress, more like a skirt and top. Simple but elegant, with her midriff exposed to accent Vivec's own attire he’d be wearing. The tailor worked silently, pinning the fabric of the skirt in place while the warrior-poet floated ahead, watching and helping with how it looked.

The skirt was long, made of black silk. It would have a long cut, revealing almost all of her left leg. There’d be a Redoran-shade sash around her hips, holding the skirt in place and offering the pop of color that was to be expected of a House dunmer. However, there would also be a more subtle declaration of faction. A soft purple-ish blue trim wrapping around the fabric that would drape over her chest. Under, she’d wear something to ensure wind wouldn’t cause a wardrobe malfunction. But still, she’d wear little.

And, by the look Vivec was giving her, he would love it. Love seeing her in such loose clothes, free to dance as she wanted. And perhaps, he’d adore seeing the way other mer looked at her. How the races of man would look upon the young dunmer lady.

All the while, as the tailor worked and Vivec assisted, Hannabi’s mind wandered. Wandered to the gala. To what her mother would possibly say about it. How her grandfather, the one on her mother’s side, would insist she wear the tiny circlet he’d helped his daughter pay to have made. This was a House dunmer event, after all. She should have nothing to betray she was part Ashlander.

The thought brought a sigh. Louder than she intended. Both men paused. Vivec the first to speak.

“Dove, is everything okay?”

She blinked… Then nodded. It wasn’t a secret who her grandmother was. It was no secret, not in this city. She carried Ahemmusa blood, as well as Redoran. She gave one of their small, barely visible signals. A sign she would tell him later, and that it was about her blood. Vivec nodded, turning attention back to the tailor… And dismissed him, sending off to get to sewing the fabric together.

The tailor bowed, gathering up the fabric and pins, and departed. Off to his workspace, his store down in St Olms canton. Vivec allowed Hannabi sit, in the plush bed they’d often share. His hands moved over her body, now bare to him. Gentle touches, sweet massages of the muscles he knew would be sore after even a partial work day.

She didn’t even need to say it. He knew. He was learning her mind, learning of the challenges she faced. So she didn’t need to say it. Instead, he produced a new circlet. Similar to the one her mother had made, but the elytra of the beetle was made from tiny, glittering scales. It would be eye-catching. But, more importantly, it was another subtle way of showing she was proud of both bloodlines that connected within her. No matter what her mother said.

And, that he was proud to declare the granddaughter of an Ashlander as his beloved.

Firecracker

Vorys Seduri ; Firecracker

The gala was hosted in Mournhold. It was outside, under a mystical tapestry that kept bugs away. Almalexia didn’t let any Telvanni even try to help. The night was young, the sun just barely set over the horizon. People would be arriving soon. The others of the triune. Almalexia let herself hold Vorys’ arm, smiling so wide and warm as she walked with him. Speaking with nobles of all houses, introducing him to them. So many greeted him with great smiles.

The Master of Ceremonies spoke up suddenly. Loudly- his voice even louder than natural due to a clockwork device around his shoulders. He announced Lord Vivec. Accompanied by a Redoran woman, of a family Vorys hadn’t heard of. The Sendas family. They must have been small.

Almalexia suddenly pulled him towards the warrior-poet. They met in the middle, next to a flowerbed of vibrant hues. Vorys was quiet, smiling and nodding a greeting to the woman beside Vivec. Hannabi. Their loves spoke for a while, before attention was turned to others.

Eventually, they started talking to each other. Softly, smalltalk. The Master of Ceremonies spoke up again. It was an hour since Vivec had arrived.

“With great pride, I announce the arrival of Lord Sotha Sil. Accompanying our Clockwork God is…” The man’s voice trailed off. There were whispers. Harsh things. Everyone, including Vorys, turned to look. What… What was that thing? A daedra?

It was Sil who spoke next, gently taking the device from around the Master’s neck.

“Accompanied by the Herald of the Void.”

… What?

Sotha Sil and the creature moved directly to join the others of the Triune. And their partners. Vorys looked to the Sacred Lady, searching her body language for instruction. She was open, greeting Seht with a great smile. Vivec, the same, though his smile was more subdued.

Then introductions. Vivec and Ayem had given each other the introductions of their partners. Now it was time for Sotha Sil’s… Creature. It was Ayem who spoke first. She put her hands upon Vorys’ torso, over his ribs. The touch startled him at first.

“This,” she said, “is my darling Vorys Seduri. Vorys, darling, I’m sure you know Sil.”

He nodded. It felt so… He wasn’t sure. Disrespectful? Blasphemous? To look upon two of the Triune and not bow his head. But Almalexia had assured him it would be okay.

Sil greeted with a small smile of his own, introduced his partner. The Creature. Critter, if those speaking to it were inclined.

The gala went on well into the night. Music wasn’t always slow dances, sometimes it was upbeat celebratory music. Vorys swore he even saw a few of the ordinators doing tiny dances along with the music. None would ever admit it though. The moons were high, there was a small bit of fog rolling in. All in all, it was a wonderful night. Even if Vorys would be exhausted the next morning.

Then, the music shifted. It was quiet for a moment, as the players got on the same page of what to play. Vivec had whispered something to Hannabi, and she had moved to speak with them. They seemed happy to oblige with whatever she’d said.

The music was gentle. Grand. Everyone, even Vorys, knew what the intentions were. Others moved away, children scooped up by parents. Vorys found himself suddenly in front of everyone, with Almalexia before him. Vivec wanted the tribunal to be seen dancing with their loves.

Vorys didn’t pay attention to the fact that Sotha Sil and Critter didn’t join them. His focus was on Ayem. On her smile and laugh as they danced. On the movements, the ones she taught him through the week. An old Chimer dance, one she hadn’t done in centuries.

Not since Nerevar was her husband.

It started with a bow. He bowed to her, she took his hands. He tried not to step on her toes. Or trip on his own feet. He did, a few times. It only made her laugh. She didn’t seem to mind it, despite how harshly she craved perfection. He heard a few whispers. Saw a few people leaning to speak with each other. He couldn’t be sure if it was because of him or Hannabi.

The music came to a close. Almalexia took him close, as she’d helped him practice. The end of the dance was a swapping of roles, letting the other lead. Letting Mother Morrowind lead him in a few more steps, then the flourish she would end with. She hadn’t practiced that with him, she’d wanted it to be a surpr-

She kissed him.

His mind skipped, as if a moment was plucked from his thoughts. She kissed him. Almalexia kissed him! His heart felt light. The whispers around him didn’t matter. All that mattered really was the fact that she chose that to be the flourish to end their dance.

He returned the kiss.

Critter ; Firecracker

Truth be told, the Creature was incredibly nervous. Stepping out of the Clockwork City at Sotha Sil’s side, everything should have been okay. It shouldn’t have been so nervous. Perhaps it was because this was a gala. It had never been to a gala before. It was excited!

Sotha Sil led it out, explaining that there would, at some point in the night, be expectation for the Triune to dance with their partners. He did not expect that of Critter. If Critter did not want to, they didn’t have to. Least of all, in front of everyone. It would be a spectacle, surely… To be honest, Seht added with the tiniest hint of mirth, he wasn’t even sure what they’d dance. Almalexia and Vivec had surely planned theirs.

The Creature chuckled. It reached over, took one of Sil’s hands in one of its four. Sil smiled again. It was so nice to see him smiling so often. It loved the sight. As much as it loved him. The moons hung in the sky when they exited the cave. Seht’s power pushed the waterfall away, mostly to keep the Creature from getting bogged down with soaking wet fur.

There was already a great crowd when they arrived.

A man was announcing people, wearing a clockwork device around his neck. It amplified his voice as he spoke. Already loud, but now even louder. Before them, he announced someone from House Indoril, a couple and their young child.

“With great pride, I announce the arrival of Lord Sotha Sil. Accompanying our Clockwork God is…” The man’s brows furrowed, staring at the Creature.

Sil whispered to the Creature, said that no one would know what to call it. The Creature thought for a moment, then whispered back. Sil chuckled, then spoke up, carefully borrowing the man’s device.

“Accompanied by the Herald of the Void.”

Whispers rippled among the crowd as it walked down the stairs with Sotha Sil. Everyone was greeting the others of the Three in One, approaching the platform they stood upon with their two partners. Sotha Sil led the Creature to join them.

Vivec was accompanied by a woman, Almalexia by a man. The Creature’s eyes looked down, seeing more devices. On the man’s feet. Huh.

Sotha Sil was introducing it. Critter, if they were inclined to call it. He made a point of specifying that, not he, not she, not they. It.

The Tribunal turned to their discussions. Greeting those who still arrived. The Creature offered a nervous smile to the two dunmer. The man looked more nervous than the woman. The woman- Hannabi, Vivec’s partner- smiled warmly. Something about it felt practiced. She was probably taught more about being the partner of a god, it surmised.

She spoke so warmly. So friendly. It felt nice, even if it sounded practiced. But she couldn’t fake the fact that she wasn’t afraid. The Creature slowly relaxed, speaking with the two of them.

Eventually, it sat upon a crate. It went and dragged a crate over specifically to sit on it. Sil came over, leaned upon the very same crate. It didn’t need to look at him to know how exhausted he was. How tiring this was on his mind, to keep up these appearances.

But, both watched as Hannabi went to speak with the ones playing music. Sil hummed.

“Vivec has sent her to get the Triune’s dance started… Are you up to it?”

The Creature stared. Watched as the people moved, watched as Vivec met Hannabi at the bottom of the stairs, as Almalexia pulled Vorys to the same place. It hummed in thought.

“Can we do it here?”

It could hear Sil sigh in relief. It could tell he didn’t want to be in front of people as much. It jumped down. They didn’t know what to dance. They hadn’t planned it. It looked like Almalexia and Vorys had practiced. It wasn’t so sure about Vivec and Hannabi. It was hard to tell.

Sotha Sil offered his hand. The Creature took it. It felt its body pulled closer, gently pressed against the Mainspring’s body. It felt… Light. As Sil moved with it. Gentle motions, a dance it had never seen before. Or maybe it had, and it just didn’t remember from where. But it was sure Sil had never seen it.

But they were together. Up in their own private corner, even if it was still visible to those who looked. They danced, moved with the music. The Creature let Sil lead, not sure if it knew the steps. It enjoyed the feeling.

The music was ending. Sil’s face was so close to its.

Sil flushed.

It kissed him.

Hannabi Sendas ; Firecracker

Hannabi was eager. They’d taken the ship at sundown. There were Armigers aboard, including her father. The man stood beside Vivec, tiniest of blushes on his cheeks as the Warrior-Poet praised how Hannabi looked. How proud Vivec supposed he was of his daughter, being such an exquisite young dunmer woman.

The ship ride was calm. It was easy. Coming into port, they had a few hours to kill before the gala started. Hannabi couldn’t even remember what they did. She was too excited for the gala.

It was outside, under beautiful stars and sparkling lightstrings. Hannabi walked at Vivec’s side. Tonight, at least as she approached the gala, she was Redoran. Once inside, once on the platform with the others of the Three, she could be Ashlander. She could be just Hannabi. But, until then, she walked at his side, her hand in his.

Almalexia was already there, glowing brightly. She could see her across the piazza. It was harder to see the dunmer beside her. Only just because the goddess shone so bright.

“With great pleasure, I announce the arrival of our Lord Vivec, accompanied tonight by Lady Hannabi Sendas of House Redoran.”

Her eyes glanced back. Her father was joining them, accompanied by another Armiger. At Vivec’s request, of course. She offered her father a reassuring smile. One he returned, then gestured with his chin for her to focus on her partner. He would be fine.

Vivec was eager to introduce her to Lady Almalexia. Even accompanying a god, even being his beloved, Hannabi bowed when introduced to the goddess. She was respectful in all things.

Vorys. Vorys was the man that accompanied Ayem. They spoke long, an hour at least, before the Master of Celebration spoke again. Sotha Sil had arrived, accompanied by…?

Hannabi looked when the man’s voice trailed off. So did Vorys. Huh. What was that thing? Not a daedra, she could tell that. But then, Sotha Sil had always had odd friends. At least, that’s what Vivec said. Perhaps it was a daedra.

“Accompanied by the Herald of the Void.”

Oh. That was definitely not a daedra.

The Creature- Critter as Sotha Sil introduced it- seemed friendly enough. Hannabi didn’t mean for her customer service smile to happen, she meant for it to be genuine and friendly. But it seemed okay. They talked, they laughed, they joked.

It was a while before Vivec appeared at her side, a kiss to her jaw and hands adjusting the circlet on her head. He whispered to her. Kissed her ear. She hummed happily, moving down the massive staircase to go speak with the band. The Tribunal were to dance with their partners. Vivec had explained that to her days ago. Even helped her practice a blend of Ahemmusa dance she remembered learning from her Grandmother.

The band seemed excited. The music started slow, soft. Vivec joined her, hands reaching to take hers. She saw Almalexia and Vorys behind him. Seht hadn’t joined. Perhaps he needed a moment to rest. Vivec’s hands pulled Hannabi to their own part of the stones, giving both pairs ample room for their dances.

Almalexia and Vorys performed an old Chimeri dance. Sotha Sil and Critter, Hannabi wasn’t so sure. But, she and Vivec, she focused on, would enjoy themselves. They’d planned and blended together a formal House Dunmer dance with her grandmother’s tribe. Perfect for the loose skirt she wore, it would flare.

It was fun. It was dizzying. It was exhausting. As the music ended, Hannabi all but fell against Vivec. She felt his laugh vibrate through her body. She was so dizzy, all that spinning the Ahemmusa dance required. She hummed softly, enjoying the feeling of his hands resting upon her hips. Just above the fabric of her skirt. She ignored the sound of all the others, the sights she sometimes caught glimpses of.

All that mattered was Vivec. The way his hands held her, how his lips kissed her ear. How he whispered sweet words of praise and love.

Her body moved suddenly. Her lord decided to give a little more of a flare to their final act, spinning her around one more time. Catching her as she fell, with a bright grin looking down at her.

And a kiss.

#okay in my writing thing this is 18 pages long how did I do this #vorys seduri #moon critter #hannabi sendas #mercyshipping #almalexia #vivec #sotha sil

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stardustedsins · 9 days

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Gentle love prompts #40. Bringing them small gifts after being away

Kujo Jotaro/reader (gender neutral reader)

Jotaro is away often, traveling across the world for the Speedwagon Foundation and across the state for his doctoral degree, tracking down dangerous stand users on some days and starfish to study on others. Sometimes you tag along to the coast on his study trips, but he doesn’t let you go with him on the Foundation ones. It’s too dangerous, he says.

You’re a stand user, but not one suited for combat situations, so you can’t defend yourself against the kind of people they send him after, and he worries too much for your safety. Not to mention you can’t leave Jolyne all alone, and you certainly can’t bring her with you.

He’s already given the Foundation an earful about relying on him to solve all their problems just because he killed some all-powerful vampire stand user as a teenager. He’s trying to get through grad school and raise his daughter, he doesn’t have time to fly out to check on everything that goes bump in the night. To their credit, they’ve scaled back on his involvement. He’s more of a trump card now, unless there’s something that really warrants his personal attention.

He can’t always call you when he’s away, whether it’s because he’s too afraid of drawing attention to his family at home, or because he’s camping on the beach somewhere. But you know he’s still thinking of you and Jolyne when he’s away, because he brings back little gifts for both of you.

Jolyne’s are pretty straightforward: things that will either hold up to a little girl’s less than gentle handling or sit safely on display in her room for appreciation. Interesting toys from far away places, a sun catcher for her bedroom window, a hat for playing dress-up. And of course, candy in exotic flavors to share among the three of you.

Your gifts are often smaller, more subtle, but no less carefully chosen. He brings you things that reminded him of you while he was away, even when that’s a shell from the beach or a pebble with an unusual color. You have quite the collection of little gifts lined up on the kitchen windowsill where you can see them every time you wash your hands or a dish at the sink there. There are larger gifts too, of course. Touristy shirts with messages like “someone I love bought me this in Denver”, a beautiful hand-woven throw blanket for your living room couch, fancy chocolate, even hobby supplies.

As cheesy as it sounds, the best gift is always having him back, when he tells you about his trip and shows you what he’s brought for you and Jolyne. Sometimes he takes a camera with him, especially on research trips where he’s documenting starfish for his thesis, and you get to see some of what he saw (even when it’s mostly starfish).

This time, he’s been in Japan on some combination of stand business and family matters. Jolyne’s been extra impatient waiting for him to come home this time. She’d heard about Jotaro’s newly discovered relative and been insatiably curious about her great uncle. She thinks it’s funny that a great uncle can be so young.

The two of you get in the car to pick him up from the airport, Jolyne chattering excitedly in the backseat the whole way. It’s a long flight between Florida and Japan, not to mention whatever connection he’d had from the little town he was staying in to the international airport he flew out of. You know he’ll be tired when he arrives, but he always does his best to tough it out through Jolyne’s energy until he can get to bed and sleep off the jet lag.

Jolyne’s made a sign with his name on it, as is tradition at this point (earlier ones had just read “Daddy”), and you’re waiting for him in the arrivals terminal near baggage claim. You keep an eye out of his suitcase on the carousel, ready to snag it for him if it reaches you before he does.

But you don’t have to wait long. He finds you soon enough, and Jolyne runs to greet him with a hug that crushes her sign between them. He scoops her up and carries her over to join you at baggage claim.

“Welcome home.” You say.

“What was my great uncle like? What’d you bring me? Did you see Grandma?” Jolyne asks, and he shakes his head.

“Slow down, and I’ll tell you all about it once we’re in the car.” He sets her down on her feet. “Help me find my suitcase and we can go sooner.”

She hurries over to the start of the carousel to watch the incoming baggage.

“She can hear about the family stuff, but the stand business will have to wait until she’s asleep.” He murmurs.

“That bad?” You frown sympathetically.

“Serial killer.”

Jolyne comes back before you can respond to that, lugging her father’s suitcase behind her.

“I found it!”

He checks the tag to be sure it’s his, and extends the handle to pull it along.

“Good work.”

“Can we go now?” She bounces on her toes, and he nods.

“Let’s go. You can show me where you parked.”

He talks about the famous great uncle Josuke on the drive home, promising Jolyne she’ll get to meet him someday. When you arrive home, she receives her gift first: a strap with Morioh’s mascot character Mori-kun on it, for her school bag. She goes to her room to put it on immediately.

Your gift is a pair of acrylic chopsticks with Morioh landmarks running down the side of each one, and purple stripes at the tops that make an M when the pair are lined up together. And they’re dishwasher safe, according to the package.

Jotaro talks more about some of the other people he’d met over dinner, clearly leaving out that they’re stand users in some cases: an Italian chef and restaurant owner, a famous manga artist, the bellhop at his hotel, and even some of his uncle Josuke’s friends.

Once you’ve cleaned up from dinner and put Jolyne to bed, he tells you about the more serious events, murders and explosions and missing people. It’s the things like this that make you worry when he’s away, and so grateful when he’s back safe.

You curl up together in bed when he’s done explaining, wanting to hold him close after being apart.

“I’m just glad you’re home.” You whisper to him in the dark. That really is the only gift you need.

#my writing #sfw #gender neutral reader #gentle love prompts #stardust crusaders #kujo jotaro

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lefemmerougewriter · 18 days

Text

A Red Moonstone Burns Brightly

Cass thought about her past as she walked across the rolling hills on the edge of the last kingdom in the Ever Realm she hadn’t visited yet, Enchancia. Suddenly, a wormhole opened in front of her. She walked through without realizing it...

In a new world, Cass finds an unlikely companion, a former (and well-known) international thief. Both bond with one another even though they come from vastly different circumstances.

Characters: Cassandra, Carmen Sandiego, Player

Friendships: Player & Carmen, Cassandra & Varian (implied)

Romantic pairings: Cassandra / Carmen Sandiego, Cassandra / Rapunzel (previous)

Words: 4400+

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52789294

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1411151258-a-red-moonstone-shines-brightly

Quotev: https://www.quotev.com/story/16277474/A-Red-Moonstone-Shines-Brightly

Authors note: The interest in the Red Moonstone ship, of Carmen and Cass, on Reddit, fanart, and a mention of this on the Shipping Wiki fandom page for Cass got me interested in this ship, and made me want to write this story. The same ship is also mentioned on Carmen’s page. I believe this is the first ever Red Moonstone fic on AO3. For a similar fic, see my “Cassandra and the Catgirl from the Sky” fic which came out late last year. Comments and suggestions are welcome!

Text:

One year has passed, but... I am riddled with guilt every day. It sometimes feels like I do not age and that time has not passed.

Yet my suffering continues. While I still feel I was in the right, I know what I did to Rapunzel and that I hurt her. I had to get away from it all. I couldn’t let her toxic positivity get to me... I had to get away... away from her, away from Corona, away from it all!

I need to find my own way in the world, my own way in the universe.

Cass thought about her past as she walked across the rolling hills on the edge of the last kingdom in the Ever Realm she hadn’t visited yet, named Enchancia. Suddenly, a wormhole opened in front of her. She walked through without realizing it. She hummed to herself and closed her eyes, happily skipping as she went. Everything seemed like it was going her way.

When she opened her eyes, she was astonished. She stood on top of a black gooey substance, embedded with pebbles, which covered the ground. It had white and yellow markings. It was nothing like anything that she had ever seen before in her entire life. A metal monstrosity came hurtling toward her. She drew her sword and took a defensive stance.

“Stop, heathen! You shall not pass!” Her movement did nothing to stop the horseless chariot from speeding toward her. A window opened by some miracle, perhaps even by magic, she gathered. She heard a deafening shout. “Get out of the road, lady!” The tone was angry. Cass was confused and unsure what she had done wrong. She decided to ignore the yelling person.

She stood her ground. She started to sing that she had nothing left to lose. Out of nowhere, a lady in a bright red trenchcoat and fedora grabbed her off the street. Before she knew it, she was in the air, flying through the skies thanks to a glider backpack on the woman's back. She had no idea why this lady had grabbed her from the ground. Something seemed different. There were tall buildings with windows which stretched into the sky, almost like they were scraping clouds. She put her sword back in its sheath. This woman did not seem to be a threat.

The glider soon came to a stop. It gently reached the ground. In the past, the lady had crashed it when carrying her former crime school buddy. That scenario did not replay itself this time.

Cass looked up and saw a ramshackle building. The name “Carmen Outerwear” was emblazoned on the front. Collapsing her hangar backpack, the lady turned toward her. Her fierce blue gray eyes stared at Cass. She came closer. Her auburn hair was blowing in the wind. In some ways, this woman reminded her of someone she used to know, someone she had grown very fond of over the years, someone she felt she had hurt, someone she wanted to reconnect with, in a healthier way that involved re-building trust, not treating another person as second-best, and without hierarchy.

She was not aware that in this world, thousands of miles away, in a densely populated strip, thousands were being murdered by a militarily superior force. These brutal attacks resulted in massive displacement and a shattered society, and were paired with spread of disease, electricity blackout, food insecurity, and three land border crossings to come and go. This now-hellish place, known as Gaza, was many times worse than anything she had caused in Corona. It would baffle her mind if she knew about this genocidal butchery happening thousands of miles from where she currently stood. Since she didn’t know about those horrors, at the present, only one thing concerned her now: who was this person before her? Why do they seem so...familiar?

“Who are you?” the lady insisted. Cass did not know how to answer. She stepped back warily, unsure of what to make of this woman. The woman was the epitome of fashion and beauty. Cass couldn’t help but be drawn toward her, although she wasn’t sure why. Conflicted with what she should say, she fumbled. “I...uh...am Cassandra...I have a sword and...I’m not afraid to use it!”

The lady laughed heartily. It had been one of the funniest things she had heard. A person she had saved from the street was threatening her? How absurd! She attempted to calm down the situation. “Ah, yes, swords, the weapon of choice for a lady with black hair. It suits you well. But I do not want to fight with you, not today.” Cass nodded. She continued to be uncertain of the intentions of this woman. Without a doubt, she could have drawn her sword right then and there. Considering her options, she decided to stand down.

“Fine...I’ll follow you...but if you do anything sneaky, I’ll have to strike back...with force!” Whether she would act on this threat was questionable. More likely than anything else, it was a bluster to put this woman on edge. However, It didn’t work, not in the slightest, if that had been her intention, in the first place.

The woman laughed once again. “Oh, Ms. Cassandra,” she began, “come inside into my former hideout...but don’t you tell anyone about it.” Continuing to be wary, she followed behind, but kept her eyes open. This could be a trap. Maybe, this was all a nightmare. Nothing made sense. The woman stopped and turned around. She outstretched her hand. “Sorry for not introducing myself earlier. I’m Carmen Sandiego. You can just call me Carmen.” As she smiled, Cass shook her hand, although she remained skeptical of this mysterious woman.

Taking out a metal key from her pocket, Carmen unlocked the door and walked in. The ground floor had a workshop for Ivy, a laundry room, and a gym. She led Cass through the building and to the living room. In the back of her mind, Cass believed that someone had planned this whole thing to trap and deceive her. Every day, she suffered from the residual effects of Zhan Tiri’s mental manipulation, leading to a level of paranoia.

What happened next was something she didn’t expect. Carmen felt relieved. She put her keys on a table and pointed to a puffy, cushioned piece of furniture. “Make yourself at home, Cassandra...I have to change out of these clothes as it's hot as the blazes today. But I’ll be back in a second. Don’t go anywhere.”

Stunned at the hospitality, Cass smiled weakly in response. She wasn’t sure what to think about this woman or her posh hideout. She had no idea where she was. But she knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t in Enchancia anymore.

As Carmen went into the bedroom, she changed into more comfortable, and casual, clothes. Discreetly, she slipped into the study/storage area. She talked to her hacker friend in hushed tones. “Player, I need an assist here.” Not sure what she meant, the Canadian kid asked, “What is it, Red?” Now fully dressed, in almost record time, perhaps as a side effect of having to get dressed quickly when she went to crime school, she took out her earbuds. She then turned on the video call feature, surprising Player. He hadn’t expected to see her face.

“I uh...rescued this woman from being hit by a car this morning. She had drawn a sword and was about to fight it? I found it bizarre.” Player didn’t know what to tell her. Why had Carmen even rescued this woman? How did she know this woman could be trusted? Player shook his head. “Red, I’m dumbfounded. Couldn’t you have just dropped her off at a police station or something?” Carmen rolled her eyes. Didn’t Player know that the police couldn’t be trusted? She grumbled. “Come on, Player, don’t ya remember when it was revealed that cops in this city were sending racist, sexist, and homophobic texts to each other, and a bunch of cases were compromised?” Exasperated, she added, “I’d trust a pig rolling in mud more than these damn cops. They are corrupt to the core.” Player backed off. The last thing he wanted was for Carmen to be angry at him. He tried to move the conversation back to the original subject.

“So...Red, did you call me because you want me to look up more about...this woman?” Carmen nodded. She surreptitiously snapped a quick photograph of Cass, who was lying on the couch in the living room. Player teased Red. “She totally seems like your type, Red...” Carmen looked at him with a scowl. Her face was red as a tomato. How could he even say that! It was so embarrassing! “Yeah sure, Player.” She then said, as an aside, “oh, and her name is Cassandra. Let me know if you find anything. I’ll keep you posted if I learn anything else.”

After getting off the video call, Player realized something odd. Carmen was back at the hideout again? He found it weird because he thought that she had taken a break from all of that. Hadn’t she gone out on her own, wanting to forge her own path? He shrugged. He expected her to call him back. He kicked himself for not bringing this up. One day, he wanted to go to the hideout as well. But he knew that wouldn’t happen unless he made an excuse for it.

Meanwhile, back on the couch, Cass saw a black object with a bunch of colored buttons on it. In all her time in Corona, and traveling across Ever Realm, she had never seen such a device. Curious, she pressed the red button. She heard a sizzling sound. A picture appeared in front of her eyes on a rectangular black box with a screen of some type. Sound blared out of it, screaming into her ears. She turned away and gathered enough courage to face the noise. She pulled out her sword and raised it. “I will not let this infernal box dictate my life! Stop at this instant!” Her words had no effect.

As she was about to strike the final blow and cut the device in half, Carmen bolted out of the door. She pulled Cass down. “Unhand me, woman!” she yelled. Shaking her head, Carmen could do nothing but laugh. Cass continued to struggle, attempting to escape, like a house cat that didn’t want to be held. Annoyed, she asked, “why are you laughing! This isn’t funny. This...device...whatever it is, is hurting my ears! I want to make it stop.” Carmen carefully pulled the sword from Cass’s hand, put it on the ground, and breathed deeply. This woman was more trouble than she had anticipated. Where had she come from, anyway?

“Ok, I’m gonna need you to calm down a bit, Cassandra.” She then pressed the red button on the controller. The screen went dark. Cass felt a little better now. Even so, she remained perplexed. What was the strange black rectangle on the wall? How was it connected to the device? She had no idea. Before she could say anything, Carmen pointed to the rectangle. “That’s a television.” She then picked up the controller, adding “and this is a remote. It turns on the TV. You can watch movies, shows, and whatever you want on there...it's the ultimate entertainment device.”

Although Carmen’s explanation helped, Cass still had no clue how any of it worked. She sighed. She lay down on the couch. It was as comfortable as anything in Corona. For everything that Raps put her through, treating her as someone who was second-best, someone whose identity was subsumed within her own, and everything else, she couldn’t forget the luxurious accommodations within the Corona castle. Although there was no doubt that Raps had devalued her in many ways, she knew that Raps, on some level, still cared about her, even when they were apart. What would Raps think of her now?

“I’m sorry,” Cass began. “Everything about this world is new and different from what I’m used to. I’ve never seen this device you call...a television...or the remote that controls it.” This made Carmen concerned. Where was this woman from anyway? Could she be someone brainwashed by VILE to take her out for the last time? Had she made a mistake in letting her into the hideout? She had to know more. “So, Cass...can I call you that?” Cass nodded. “...What is the place you are used to? Where’s your...home base?”

Processing the questions slowly, Cass responded carefully. Just as Carmen was unsure about her, she was not completely convinced she could trust Carmen, at least not yet. She decided to be honest, in hopes she could get home. “I’m from the kingdom of Corona...it’s ruled...or should I say will be ruled...by a girl with auburn hair, Rapunzel...and her husband Eugene.” Carmen started to say something. Cass interrupted her, and continued. “After some...things happened, I don’t live there anymore...I’ve been traveling on my own for about a year to get my head straight...and forge my own path.”

This made Carmen even more interested. She almost seemed to be doing the same thing as her! Maybe they would have more in common. She decided to ask her more questions. Instead of telling Player secretly about Cass, perhaps she could introduce her to him, virtually. “So, where is this Corona, located?” Without much thought, Cass responded “why, in the Ever Realm, of course. Don’t you know about it?” Carmen shrugged. She had never heard of either one before. Had this woman been living under a rock?

“I’m...not familiar with...that place...can you point it out to me?” she asked, remaining inquisitive. She picked up a wooden stand near the window, which had a brass metal footer. It was designed for a globe to sit on top of it, and mobile enough to carry around a living space. While the electronic maps that Player could come up with were helpful, she liked this globe better sometimes, especially since elevation was built into it. You could, with your hands, feel how low, or high, an area was. Also, it could be used to play the globe-spinning “where your finger lands game” or what her friends called, in jest, “where in the world is Carmen Sandiego” game.

Cass stared at the globe, spun it around, searching intently. What were all these lines, borders, and symbols? Why were they there? Where was Corona? She started to panic. “Corona isn’t on here...are you absolutely sure this globe is the right one?” This puzzled Carmen. How could she not point to her homeland? Who was Cass anyway? This woman worried her, more than anything. “Yeah, it's right. It's a globe of Earth I bought at an antique shop last year.”

This scared Cass. What did Carmen mean by “Earth”? What was this world she spoke about? To make sure her ears weren’t deceiving her, she asked a follow-up question. “Are you sure it's Earth?” Carmen looked at her strangely. Why would Cass ask this? Didn’t she live on the same planet as her? “Yes, it is,” she said matter-of-factly.

Not wanting to bother Carmen with any further questions, she accepted what Carmen said as the reality. She had no idea how she had come to Earth. While she would have asked Varian about it, he wasn’t there. She felt lost, untethered from reality. What if she never saw her dad again, or...even Raps? How in the world could she even get back to Corona...or even the Ever Realm?

There was a long, uncomfortable silence between Cass and Carmen. Each of them waited for the other to say something. An idea came into Carmen’s head. Maybe they could relax in the sunroom on the roof of her former headquarters. It was only two floors up.

She quickly grabbed Cass’s right hand, and ran toward the elevator. It was old and had a metal screen which you had to close manually. “I’m gonna show you one of my favorite rooms of this warehouse.” Hopping inside the moving metal box scared Cass, but...it also amazed her. What were the systems that caused it to move? Why were the dials lighting up like there were candles hidden behind them? It fascinated her. Although she might not act like this normally, her keen interest in technology came from spending time with her good friend, Varian. Although some people may have thought she had romantic feelings for him, she never once had feelings for men, including him.

Carmen stepped out of the elevator, still holding the right hand of Cass, and sped up the stairs. Not surprisingly, although the building was somewhat accessible, thanks to twin elevators from the ground floor and third floor, no elevator reached the roof. That could only be accessed by climbing the stairs. They soon reached the lush sunroom, an enclosed space filled with daylight. It had many views of San Francisco.

Alternatively called solariums, conservatories, sun parlors, or sun porches, these rooms had the advantage of bringing in outside light while serving as a shelter from adverse weather. They often featured passive solar heating, with the sun’s rays easily illuminating the room. In some cultures, these rooms were secluded and partially enclosed within a garden. In the case of this hideout, the sunroom had the dual purpose of collecting sunlight for warmth and offering scenic views. Most of the walls were composed of framed glass. There were also internal climate controls to make sure it was the right temperature inside the room.

Cass was amazed. The views, the design, and the layout were one thing. But when entering the room, she felt calmness rush over her. She bowed her head and kissed Carmen’s hand. “Thank you for bringing me to such a wonderful place...This is the first time I’ve ever stepped foot in a room...like this.” Carmen’s face, often a rakuda brown color, became warm and flushed, even a little reddish. She was totally unprepared for something like this. Starting to stutter, Cass interrupted her. “I’m...sorry...it's a royal habit. I was a lady-in-waiting for a princess, you know.”

Hearing that made Carmen perk up a bit. Who was Cass, really? She knew that Cass came from the Ever Realm, and, more specifically, a kingdom named Corona within it. She surmised that Cass had some feelings for this princess she served in the kingdom. Otherwise, her life was a mystery. She wanted to learn more.

At the same time, she wanted to put her new friend at ease. Who was she to ask Cass about her life in this other world, as she termed it? She saw in Cass someone trying to find their place in the universe. That really resonated with her. “I can relate...I grew up on an island of thieves...and I later realized they were only out for themselves.” Unsure of how her new lady friend would react, she glanced over at her. The hazel eyes of Cass were intently staring at her.

Clearing her throat, she continued. “I became a thief who steals from other thieves.” Cass chuckled. What she had experienced was much worse. She almost acted like it was a bad memory. “Oh, that’s small potatoes. My mother kidnapped this princess, Rapunzel. I was raised by the royal guard.” She breathed deeply. She felt a weight lifted from her chest after confiding in Carmen. She felt comfortable around her. “And, well, she had the gall to say we were sisters or some shit. I fucking hated that...and she devalued me.” She then shook her head and sighed. “So, I tried to make my own destiny, but the rage, anger, and hate I felt for her was manipulated by a fucking evil sorceress, Zhan Tri. Luckily, she was defeated, but I couldn’t stay in Corona anymore...not after what I did.”

Carmen didn’t know exactly what she was talking about, or who “Rapunzel” or “Zhan Tri” were. But she could sympathize. Surely, she hadn’t been involved in anything like what Cass went through. She hadn’t tortured, kidnapped, extorted, vandalized, blackmailed, or been otherwise cruel to people. However, when she had been mind controlled by VILE for many months, she stole for them repeatedly. Since then, she had worked hard to make amends for what she did. She imagined that Cass did the same thing, in her own world, in her own way.

Just then, a thought came to her. She snatched her phone from the nearby table. Turning her head to Cass, she asked, “can I take a photo?” Cass shrugged. She had no idea what was happening and shrugged. Carmen took that as an agreement, and quickly snapped a photo. Rubbing her eyes, Cass was baffled by this tiny lighted box. She picked it up, studying it intently. What was this infernal device? And what is a “photo”?

“Uh, Carmen, what is that…thing?” she asked, pointing at the phone. Carmen chuckled. She really worried about Cass. Where had this girl been living? “It can take photographs…call people…send messages…and other stuff.” Cass continued scratching her head. The only word that she recognized was the word “message.” She had heard it before. She said innocently, “so I could write a letter to someone with that…device?” Carmen nodded. There wasn’t time to teach her digital literacy or anything like that. Instead, she wanted Player to see her.

“Can I introduce you…virtually…to my friend, Player?...he’s a hacker.” Cass didn’t know what words like “virtual” meant. She thought that Carmen’s friend must be either a chump who does things without any skill or a person who cleared brush in a wilderness. Quickly, the screen flashed. A young teen with deep brown hair, wearing a gray-red jacket, navy blue shorts, and gray sneakers stared back. This is not what she thought a hacker would look like.

“Hey, Red,” the teen answered. Cass had no idea who this person was, or how in the world he could be talking with them. She looked at him with an expression of utter confusion. Player could tell. “So...you are the Cassandra that Red told me about,” he said. She quickly became defensive. How could this...damn kid...know her name? Who the heck did he think he was? “How do you know that? Who told YOU?” Carmen held Cass’s hand, then whispered in her ear. She told her that Player was her friend. She added that she had told him about her, in hopes of learning more about her. This put Cass at ease, although she remained a bit wary.

“Sorry for that…,” she said. “I’m adjusting to this strange place, with all these devices you call phones, televisions, these glass fixtures with weird metal pieces inside, photographs, and mechanical horseless chariots.” She added, “I didn’t think a so-called ‘hacker’ would be a person sitting in a chair and looking at a bunch of glowing black boxes.” Player didn’t know what to say. He had never met, virtually or in-person, anyone like Cass. She almost seemed to be, in his estimation, from another time or place. His supposition was completely correct.

He started asking questions. “So, Cassandra, I searched across a bunch of databases and found nothing about you…it's almost like you are a ghost.” Cass took extreme offense to that. First of all, he knew her name. Now, he was saying that she didn’t exist! Suddenly, Carmen interjected, surprising not only Cass, but Player. “She’s from some kingdom named Corona, in the Ever Realm and was a...uh...servant...I think...for this princess named Rapunzel.” He nodded. With them both staring at him intently, he quickly typed on his keyboard. He sighed and put up his arms in defeat. He was missing something, but did not know what.

“I can’t find anything...no country or world named Ever Realm...no princess named Rapunzel...there’s a bunch of coronas out there, either outer atmosphere of the Sun, a type of beer, a software company, a carbonated drink, a card game, some songs, a type of virus, and the name of a car...but no kingdom.”

Cass grumbled. What Player said confirmed her suspicions: that she had come to this strange planet named Earth, as Carmen called it. She shook her head. “I guess I’m stuck here then. I was near this kingdom called Enchancia and suddenly ended up in front of some horseless carriage riding on some weird black gooey surface. A person yelled at me, I pulled out my sword, Carmen brought me here...and well, that’s it.”

Player tried to reassure her. He didn’t want her to lose hope. Maybe they could get her back to Corona, somehow. “I’ll do what I can to help. I’ll ask around.” Cass smiled. That’s exactly what she wanted to hear. “Thank you, Player.” The video call ended. Carmen shut off the screen and stashed the phone in her pants pocket. Cass leaned in close. She had to thank her new friend somehow. Without much thought, she gave her a loud smooch on the cheek. She whispered, “I’m glad you talked to your friend. I hope he can help.”

Carmen’s body became warm, and her face became as red as a raspberry. Her heart began beating faster. Her pupils began to dilate. Her palms became sweaty. She felt weird, feeling differently than ever felt before. This seemed different. As her left eye turned to Cass, she knew what this all meant. She put her arm around Cass and softly replied, again without thinking about it too much, “I’d do anything for you...I’m so relieved you are here...with me.”

Cass would have, in the past, shirked away, but she did not. She had, even when she was controlled by the Blue Moonstone powers and manipulated by Zhan Tri, one goal: to gain more respect and self-worth, something which had been denied to her. She had unloaded her frustrations into actions that seemed irrational but were justified. In a moment of deep longing, she hugged Carmen back and said, “you are my Red Moonstone, grounding me with your love and protection...and for that, I am forever grateful.”

They continued to embrace one another and enjoyed one another’s company. While they had only met, their personal connection became deeper with each passing minute and hour, even though they came from different worlds. The challenges ahead for them they would approach together, and their lives would be intertwined more than either could have imagined.

End note: The opening of this fic is a very loose adaptation of the season 5 opening of Samurai Jack, which is spoken by Jack himself. Used this guide by Moooooshier to help with tags for this story. Also summarized information from the Sunroom Wikipedia article. And yes, people with darker skin can blush, but it isn’t, from the various web pages I read, not always as noticeable as it is in lighter-skinned people. The pages for Cassandra and Zhan Tri on the Tangled wiki were helpful, along with the Villains Wiki page for Cass. I also used different definitions of hacker here, to add to the confusion Cass is feeling, and the page for Player on the Carmen Sandiego Wiki for other information. I’m also assuming, with this fic, that Elena of Avalor, Sofia the First, and Tangled are all in the same realm same realm. I mean, why not? I also used the International Gem Society’s “Moonstone Symbolism” page for the ending part and will probably try and add more symbolism about it in later, possible parts of this story, if I choose to write them and this fic really catches on. I was thinking, originally, of making this fic a slow burn, and perhaps it sort of has some characteristics of that, but I also could see them connecting to each other early on. I didn’t think I could write over 4,000 words for this story, but here we are. Inspiration for locations and such is the eighth chapter of great fic entitled "Sandiego's Seven" Funny enough, I wrote much of this fic before I moved into my new place which... has a sunroom!

#red moonstone #carmen sandiego #cassandra tangled #cass tangled #tangled #tangled fic #carmen sandiego fic #fanfiction #fanfics #ao3fic #wattpad #quotev #samurai jack #quotes #gaza war #i stand with gaza #gaza genocide

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penname-artist · 1 year

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Forgive the tipsy rambling here and, maybe this is just looking back on something having aged through a lot of it but, do you ever just realize how much you've climbed to change as a person?

I guess it depends on the person. Not everyone has the same experience or makes the same steps. Some people hardly change at all. And some people, people like me, you wouldn't be able to look at versions of me more than two or three years apart without struggling to figure out they're the same guy.

Sure, lots of things always remain. You'll probably still like the same things, prefer the same comforts, or struggle with the same faults. No matter how much you change and grow, you're always just gonna be, y'know. You. It's the type of you that makes the change, though; whether to be the you that gives into emotional weaknesses, or the you that controls their ego from overinflating. Sometimes things teach us, events shape us and memories mold us into new characters. But really, it's just us, paving the way to bettering ourselves. Making something out of yourself. Being someone. And being proud of that.

I can't honestly say I enjoy looking into my own reflection, in a physical sense. I've become so hollow, so baggy-eyed and bony-shouldered with the wear of years of pacing holes into the floor. I don't think there will be a time soon I'll be satisfied with the missing and broken teeth, or the acne scars, or the protruding right side of my rib cage. But you know, appearances can't be everything. Even talents can only push you so far in life, the finite detailing of mine having been dwindled off somewhere in the late 2010s. I can't draw what I used to. I can't do a lot of the things I used to.

In some ways you could say I didn't have a choice. That I had to be kind. I can't work like I used to, can't go like I used to. I've developed a bad knee and stiff joints, mental anguish, social overload, muscle spasms, migraines, whatever else happens on any given day. Things I can't explain and things I can't control. But I can manage them, at least.

And I've watched my mother for years, in a far worse state. Fibromyalgia hardly scratches the surface anymore, with a ruptured appendix and a crushed spine about to undergo major surgery. I've witnessed unfairness and fear in the middle of the night, time and time again like some horrible nightmare no one can wake up from. But I've also seen grace, I've watched a woman go from all to nothing and still put a smile on to be the neighborhood mom, risk pain and days of bed-bound downtime just to take a child to a library event. Just to support their eldest child's new identity. Just to exist to love and care for and take care of her family.

I don't know a person who's been faced with a crueler world. I also don't know a person who's worked harder to be kind in turn.

I'm hardly there yet, I'm only in my twenties. The world is so big and so vast and so complicated. I've already tasted cruel, tasted grief as familiarity is ripped from me, as love and longing is left cold and silent as an empty space for someone who never said a word. I've tasted cruel, and born an inked reminder of what it can't do. It can't take me. It can take my friends from me, and it can take my body piece by piece, and it can take my life some unsuspecting day, but it can't take away me. I'm something. In everything I make, I'm leaving something of myself behind. I was here. I existed. I impacted. I did. The world was cruel and it'll keep being cruel but I'm going to exist anyways and I'm going to do anyways and I'm going to be kind anyways, and I'm going to climb this goddamn mountain one pebble at a time, and shout from every clifftop that I was something. It may not have been very much. But it was. And you can't erase me. I was something. And I am proud of the something that I made.

[edit: it's 11:08 PM, I think this took an hour and a half to write and so I'm sober enough to reread it and yeah can we check off the emotional drunk box now please? Please?]

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drarrypotterrenaissance · 1 year

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Day 4: Bouquet

This is a continuation of this fic (on ao3 here), although each installment in the series can be read on its own. I'll be posting new chapters semi-regularly until the entire fic is out of my Finished WIPs folder - please poke me if you feel like I'm taking too long updating! 💜

CW for a bit of depression for Harry at the beginning - Spring isn't necessarily an easy season for him, but he's going to be okay

Springtime was supposed to make everything feel better. That’s what his classmates seemed to believe, at least, all swarming excitedly through the doors to get outside, still stuffing a last bite of breakfast into their mouths. That’s what Hermione had said, stretching by the fire a few nights ago and remarking how the weather was supposed to be nicer this week, and wouldn’t that be nice? That’s what all those brochures from the mind healers said, that winter and darkness might make you sad, but spring and sunlight would make you feel better.

Harry begged to differ. As he stomped around the far edge of the lake, all he could think about was how he didn’t feel better at all. The spring air was just a reminder of what the weather had been like during all the other horrible moments of his life. Warm weather had always meant the Dursleys and Privet Drive, exams and clashes with evil, the Battle of Hogwarts. Even the happy shrieks of his classmates, spread across the lawn on the other side of the lake and reveling in the first nice day of spring, closer to the castle, felt a little too close to screams for his memory to tolerate.

He had come outside to clear his head - he knew the change of seasons was affecting him, but Hermione had gently suggested that a walk might be nice, and so he had stormed outside without waiting for her and Ron, putting as much space between himself and everyone else as he could. He just wanted to not think, or, failing that, to give in to the dark mood surrounding him for just a little bit. He was doing a fairly good job of it too, kicking hard at pebbles on the ground and scowling at the grass.

But then, a splotch of yellow interrupted his glare. There was a dandelion poking out of the ground, bright yellow and looking healthier than anything had a right to look this early in the season. It was a weed, so he could take his hatefulness out on it and pick it without remorse, but it was also bright yellow and happy looking, so he tore it from the ground and clenched it in his fist to give to Draco later. It would probably make him smile, and by then Harry would probably be in a mood to appreciate it.

Unfortunately, the dandelion wasn’t the only flower that was braving the new spring air. A few minutes later, there were some snowdrops, and while Harry stomped on the long grass beside them, he left them untrampled and plucked one up to give to Draco as well. Then there were some daffodils, and he was so irrationally angry that they were already blooming, because they were far too fragile to last the week, and he snatched up three to hasten their stupid deaths before adding them to the other flowers in his hand and casting a preservation spell on them so that Draco could enjoy them before they wilted, like the stupid flowers they were.

And maybe he felt a little bad about how much he was forcing himself to hate the dumb flowers, but spring was horrible, and he was allowed to be mad if he wanted to be.

But then there were primroses scattered around the base of a tree, and purple hyacinths behind Hagrid’s hut and pink crocuses along the edge of the forest, and then camellias and anemones and bluebells, and by the time Harry made it back to the castle for lunch his arms were full of flowers and his gait was closer to a wander than a stomp.

He wasn’t entirely sure what to do with the flowers he had picked; while he had been thinking of Draco when he saw each one of them, he didn’t really know how to go about giving flowers to someone. Was he supposed to tie them up in a ribbon? Or perhaps find a vase? That problem solved itself though, as Draco was lounging on a blanket just outside of the castle doors. Ron was curled around Hermione as she read on a blanket next to Draco’s, while Pansy and Blaise were flipping through magazines on his other side, and all of them had noticed Harry by the time he noticed them. Hiding the impromptu bouquet wasn’t an option, so he just walked over to join Draco on the edge of his blanket.

“Umm, hi.”

Draco’s smile was fond. “Hello. Did you have a nice walk?”

Harry could feel his cheeks going red, he still wasn’t used to being around Pansy and Blaise, let alone bringing Draco flowers in front of the other Slytherins, but he did his best to ignore their pointed smirks.

“Erm, yeah, it was fine.” Awkwardly, he shifted the flowers, trying to figure out how to hand them over without just dumping them on the ground.

“You know, when Granger told me that you’d gone for a walk to clear your head, I thought that you might have, oh, I don’t know, gone for a walk to clear your head. I never expected you to have set off on a mission to deforest half the countryside.” Draco’s drawl was biting and lazy, but Harry could read him well and knew that the softness in his eyes belied his tone.

“They’re for you, you git.” His own attempt at a scowl seemed to be failing, if the twitch of Draco’s mouth was any indication.

“Oh, my, how absolutely romantic!” He deftly swept the flowers into his arms, then turned to Pansy. “Pansy, do you remember how many times we would fantasize about our future paramours gifting us with flowers as children? How we would enact the scenes in the conservatory? Do you remember my insistence, whenever you played the prince who had come to sweep me off my feet, that you would get the wording just right?” And here, Draco pitched his voice slightly high and breathy, fluttering his eyelashes in what he clearly intended to be a show of romantic devotion, “They’re for you, you git!”

Pansy and Blaise dissolved into giggles, and behind Draco’s back Harry could see Ron and Hermione not even bothering to hide their own laughter. Traitors.

Harry scowled for real, crossing his arms across his chest and doing his best to ignore all of them.

“Oh, don’t be like that.” Draco leaned in, kissing Harry on the cheek, and then wiggled so that he was reclining in Harry’s lap, with Harry’s arms coming to wrap around him of their own accord. Lowering his voice a little, in a tone just for the two of them, he added, “I like these quite a lot.”

Harry kissed the top of his head, feeling better than he had all day at the little up-and-down motion Draco’s body made against his chest as he buried his nose in the bouquet and inhaled. “They made me think of you.”

Beaming, Draco turned around and kissed him properly, cupping Harry’s face in his free hand and brushing an errant curl behind his ear. When Draco pulled his hand away, Harry could feel something tangled in his ear, and from the silly delight on Draco’s face, he had good reason to believe it was a dandelion.

Read on Tumblr: Part 1,2, 3

Read on ao3

#hdcandyheartsfest2023 #drarry #drarry fic #my fic #fluff

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