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writingsbychlo · 1 year

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"I was trapped in the wardrobe while they had sex. I accidently waited so long that it was just weird to leave until they were finished." please, this could be really funny 😂

AYE YO. I WAS CLEARING OUT MY DRAFTS AND LOOK WHAT I FOUND BURIED? I totally forgot about this, I think I never posted because I never proofread it, and I still haven’t, but now I just don’t care. enjoy whatever mess this is because I remember writing it on my phone!

psa to all. this is not prompts reopening, this is just me having a clearout of my asks/drafts! don't send me more!

When Azriel walked in, you became acutely aware of it before you could actually see him. You always just knew when he was nearby, the tingle on the back of your neck that travelled down your spine, the flutter in your chest, the way your thoughts seemed to scatter away temporarily. As your thoughts moved to him, you lost your place on the page, the story fading away.

Glancing up and waiting for him to appear, you were more than shocked that the usual stoic mask he wore was entirely absent, and instead, a look of horror and distress painted onto his features. He stared blankly into the room, shoulders slumped and eyes positively haunted.

"Az... sweetie, you okay?" He swallowed, throat bobbing, and his eyes finally moved from the fire to you on the couch before it. You closed your book after marking the page, setting it aside as he just stared. "You wanna' talk about whatever it is?"

"I... I was pranking Cassian." He paused, turning to face you a little more, and with a few quick steps, he shuffled across the room to perch on the arm of the large chair opposite you. "Y'know, to get back at him for replacing all my holsters with hot pink ones last month."

"I remember." It took everything you had not to giggle at the memory, it had been a full day before Azriel had found where Cassian had hidden the rest. A full day of watching your friend parade around strapped up in too-small hot-pink leather, tight around all those black-clad muscles and golden skin. It may have been a prank on Azriel but it was a treat for you.

"Well, I was in his closet. Cutting all his training shirts into crop tops." He shifted, eyes flickering away from your own as heat rose to his cheeks, wings drooping even further down as he practically hunched in on himself. It was so unlike him, and you were invested. "But.. Cass came back early. I had to stay in the closet and hide. He wasn't alone. Nesta was with him. They.."

"Started bangin'?"

Azriel cringed, looking as though he was traumatised by it. "It went on for so long. I heard their bodies make sounds I never want to hear again. I heard Cassian say things I never wanted to hear my brother say. I witnessed things that will leave me sleepless for-" You hid your giggle behind your book, squeezing your eyes shut and his words snapped off at your laughter. "It's not funny!"

"Why didn't you just, y'know, do your little shadow-winnow thingy out of there?"

"Oh, gee, I wish I thought of that!" He rolled his eyes at you, but the way he was resisting a smile flicking at the edges of his lips made you grin even wider. "Oh, wait, I did! Cassian obviously knew I was gonna' get him back, he must've figured it would involve some kind of magic or spell, because he warded his room. I went in on foot, I had to leave on foot. I was trapped!"

"Oh, Gods.." You were cracking up again, and he whined -whined! - like a petulant child, only furthering your amusement.

"I'm so glad you're finding joy in my misery. I'll never be the same."

"Oh, poor Azzy." You put on a pout, despite your chest still shaking a little with laughter. "C'mere, you want me to hug it better?"

You held your arms out to him, wiggling your fingers dramatically, and he huffed. The same indignant sound he always made, and you waited for him to slip on his I'm-so-manly mask, and tell you he didn't need a hug. Instead, he moved forwards, one knee on the edge of the couch beside your calves, plucking the book that lay abandoned on your chest and discarding it, before replacing it with his head as he collapsed down against you.

You sucked in a sharp breath, holding it as you felt him get comfortable, knowing that underneath his cheek was your racing heart, that there was no doubt he could feel it going crazy. His arms circled your waist, settling his body between your thighs until he was letting out a heavy sigh. Clearly comfortable now, his body melted into your own as your arms wrapped lightly around him, one hand smoothing up and down his spine between his wings slowly.

Your other hand twitched, neglected and feeling useless, drawn to touching him as he finally caved into whatever line you two had been dancing for over a year now. If he could let his walls down, you could too. Running your fingers once, experimentally, through his hair, he hummed happily under his breath at the feeling, tipping his head up fractionally into your touch to silently request more.

You weren't sure how long passed, how long it took you to finally calm the racing of your heart, the spinning of your mind.

It could have been hours or even days that you lay there, running your fingers through his hair, dragging your fingers over the muscle between his wings in soothing patterns.

"I've always thought you have such nice tits."

"What- I- Azriel!"

“I’m just saying! I’ve been lay on them for like twenty minutes now!” He chuckled but didn’t shift off of you, even though you were sure the flush from your face was travelling down to your chest, under his cheek. “This is nice. I don’t feel so stressed anymore. I should lay on your tits more often.”

“Hey!” You have a sharp tug to his hair, a punishment for the teasing lilt to his voice, and he groaned, lifting his head as your fingers started smoothing through the locks again.

There was a playful look on his face, something dangerous in eyes, not at all what your expected for your little act, and your breath hitched. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

His eyes flickered down to your lips as he stared, your breath hitching. You and Azriel had been flirting, dancing around this thing for so long now you could barely remember when it started, and you were waiting for him. Waiting for him to make the first move, to be ready for more. You’d always been his, everyone knew it too, it was just waiting on him to make the move.

He shifted a little closer, until his lips were brushing yours, a teasing drag, testing the waters. Your fingers smoothed through his hair, a gentle caress until you were no longer gripping, fingers smoothing lightly over the back of his head instead.

“Az…”

Your whisper was silenced, his lips crashing down into yours as that final thread of resistance snapped. It snapped so wonderfully, so cataclysmically, one hand smoothing up your body until leaving you entirely, pressing into the couch by your shoulder to hold himself up. The kiss was intoxicating, your head spinning with every slow drag of his lips against your own, every soft pant of your name he let out, every swipe of his tongue.

Your nails scratched against his scalp, a shaky moan too, when he sucked tour lower lip gently, pulling away only to take ragged, gasping breaths. With foreheads pressed together and your eyes still closed, you could practically feel his smile, his nose nudging yours.

“Let’s never stop doin’ that, okay?”

“I think I could agree to that.” You whispered back, hand slipping down to his face, thumb running between, across his lips softly. His eyes finally opened, pulling back enough to sparkle at you lovingly, brows raising a little at the mischievous look you were sure was on your face. “I think, you need a little revenge on Cass and Nes.”

“Oh, yeah?” He dipped down, unable to help himself from stealing a few further kisses from your lips, despite your giggling and smiling. “How am I gonna’ do that?”

“We.” You hitched a leg up, locking it at his waist, his wings flaring and eyes darkening a little as you pushed his hips down into your own. Every little bit of your bodies was touching, the evidence of his arousal clearly grinding into your now, and his other hand flew back to from your thigh. “Dinner time soon, and guess who has to walk right through this living room to get to the dining room. I say we give them a little show of our own.”

His wings spread a little further, shielding you from the outside world entirely. “Only I get to see you fall apart, baby, but I want you to wake them up with your screams.”

#azriel x reader

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valerieisunavailable · 9 months

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Slender Brother Headcanons

These can be varied and everyone has their different opinions, but this is what vibes I get from him so--

Slender:

- Slender is blind. Sort of. While he can’t see you physically, he can see you very clearly with his mind (if that makes sense?) Like he knows where you're at and what your facial expressions are, your movements, etc., but with his mind. But nobody knows this except his brothers. (I also think this would be interesting for fanfics too)

- He does change his ties from time to time, but he rarely ever does it hardly anyone notices. He also has different colored suits, grey and dark dark blue (to wear it almost looks black). But only wears them on occasion.

- I feel like while yes, he does speak English, he can also speak Slavic languages too. (Oh to hear him speaking Russian, truly my favorite language. прекрасный. I also think it’s hilarious that people have added that he can speak German because of him constantly working and getting things done.)

- While he may seem cold-hearted, that’s not entirely the case. While he may think that he’s superior humans for obvious reasons, this doesn’t mean he necessarily despises them. Humans have done a lot of awful things, but have also made a lot of great accomplishments. They’re very creative and wise and have made various arts and literatures, And how can a bookworm hate the authors? Many of his pastas have suggested ideas to him about a multitude of things that have surprised him and consider other options.

- He has a caseload of all the pastas. Their backstory, mental illnesses, etc. He keeps this in mind always, even adding personal notes of how they respond in certain situations and ways to modify their behaviors if need be.

- If your ever finding feelings for him, trust me, he already knew before you thought of ways to show your affection or appreciation. He’s just waiting to see what things you’ll come up with, rather he’s interested or not. Your doing tons of research on his species and general and getting into chemicals naturally in the body and how their brains and organs work. But Offender is already helping you with that because he thinks it’s funny and wondering if you can actually pull it off. Trender is in the background criticizing both of you.

Splendor:

- Splendor is the way he is because he had more attachment to his mom. The others were ridiculed and tried to be forced into the mold their father were giving them. But his father seemed to give up rather early on Splendor for being too light-hearted. This also explains his rather child-like behavior. But Slender especially was forced into the mold to become successful. That doesn’t mean he isn’t jealous or doesn’t feel guilty at times. Whenever their father does come over, while he still complains at Slender, he mostly compliments him and says to him and the others that they should have done better and that they’re an embarrassment to the family name. This has lead up to multiple family fights and Offender and Trender standing up for Splendor when it does happen.

- Despite him acting happy, he is very insecure and causes him to very poorly bottle up his emotions. He tries to do what is expected of him but it never works out. He stands out more than anything and he’ll often isolate himself.

- Splendor is more lenient on humans because of how empathetic he is. Especially with getting to know some of the pastas’ backstories, he feels deeply connected with them because of what he’s been through, and what they’ve been through are as bad if not worse than what he’s had to deal with.

- Even though he generally wears the multi-color polka dotted suit and hat, that is not all that’s in his wardrobe. Oh no. He has the flamboyant hot-pink suit, he has purple suits, red suits, suits of all colors and suits with different polka-dot patterns. Not to count the amount of props and accessories he has for the suits alone-- I’m talking stop-watch clocks and everything.

- This man is also so fucking oblivious. Compliment all you want, but if your trying to show that your actually falling for the doofus, your going to have to be WAY more flirty than that. Why do you think Offender has all these extravagant ways to embarrass him? Because what your doing didn’t work for him in the first place.

Trender:

- Remember this dude is canonically gay. But that doesn’t necessarily mean he would be the dom in the situation either. While his general attitude is very intimidating, during sexual things he’s the more submissive guy. But that doesn’t me he won’t still complain or argue about things ya’ll should. And don’t think he isn’t kinky either. Some things I imagine him saying lol:

“In that position? Really? No offense, but I thought you’d be more creative.”

“Could you maybe go a little bit faster? Seriously this is kind of embarrassing.”

“ No no NO WRONG HOLE WRONG--” (They have more than two *wink*)

Then there’s just the random thoughts during intercourse:

“Do you think Kylie Jenner ever did it like this?”

“What kind of things would you think the Kardashians are into?”

- While he’s big in fashion design and will wear extravagant clothes from time to time, he does prefer more simple and cozy styles of clothing. Sometimes he likes to sit back and relax with some coffee too, you know.

- Catches onto things that others might not. These can be things that are very obvious to things that are complex and easy to miss.

- Despite being a fashion designer, he is afraid of needles. And tattoos. Anything with needles.

Offender:

- Acts like he doesn't care. He does.

- Despite being a sex addict and alcoholic, he does try to make those close to him happy.

- Has a bunch of scratch marks from gardening.

- Has, on multiple occasions, tried to get Slender drunk or high by putting things in his coffee or food. It has also, worked on multiple occasions.

- Has had multiple relationships with the pastas. Most of them have failed.

- A male stripper

- Will try any of Trender's outfits, including feminine ones. And any sexy clothes.

#creepypasta headcanon #slender brothers #creeepypasta #slender #offenderman #splendorman #trenderman

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muertawrites · 2 years

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I don’t even know if your requests are open or closed,, so if they’re closed you can just ignore this☹️

So,, hear me out — it was present day, 2022, and Eddie and Y/n’s grandchild(ren) find photos of Eddie and Y/n in the 80’s, and Eddie and Y/n’s child, their mom, catches them looking at their parents photos, and when Eddie and Y/n find out about this, they offer to show their grandchild(ren) more photos.

I need some Eddie fluff,, sO😭 YEAHHH. anyway,, have a great day/night ily/p — 🦔 (call me hedgehog anon😁bc i love hedgehogs fr)

i am screaming. i am crying. i am puking up blood at how unbearably ADORABLE THIS REQUEST IS how dare you make me face my romanticism and sentimentality

i'm going to write this as just a headcanon bc if i think about it too hard i might actually shatter my own heart. i'm also gonna tweak the family setup a lil bit.

so like

let's talk about eddie in his 50s

that man's a silver fox. kept his long hair and totally metal wardrobe. aged to perfection. still a massive ball of unchecked chaotic good. owns a music shop and rides a motorcycle.

and of course he's still head over heels in love with you. every day he wakes up next to you and is like "that's my person. the most beautiful person in the entire world. i am so lucky <3". like he still gets butterflies around you. you've been married for 20 years but he still writes you notes like "will you go out with me yes or no"

and hey let's talk about that marriage!

it was not planned

you were perfectly happy living in a domestic partnership and not getting the law involved

until you both royally fucked up and he got you pregnant

and this poor man was terrified when you found out. not because he didn't think he could be a dad, but because he was afraid you were gonna leave him. you told him you didn't want kids and he went and did the big dumb and didn't use a condom. but he reminded you repeatedly that it was your body and he didn't care what you did, he would still love you and support you and be there through all of it.

but you actually decided... hey. if i'm gonna have a baby, eddie's the only baby daddy i could ever want. so you told him you wanted to be a family.

and he immediately proposed.

so fast forward to today. it's 2022, and your now full-grown baby is headed off to college. she's nervous as hell. so you pull out the shoebox full of photos of you and eddie when you were her age to help reassure her.

the first ones are just goofy ones, back from before you and eddie started dating. pictures from the road trip you guys took when he drove you to college, standing in front of his van packed with your stuff. pictures from parties you went to together, drunkenly laughing with plastic cups in hand. polaroids and letters you sent back and forth to each other, unable to talk about anything more than how much you miss each other.

the next ones you show her are of your pregnancy and her birth. eddie kissing your growing bump. standing with his arms wrapped around you in front of the house you bought. sleeping in a chair in the hospital with a bundle of blankets in his arms, thick tufts of black hair peeking out the top. uncles dustin and steve huddled around her, staring at her with massive grins on their faces. wayne sitting with her at his kitchen table, eddie at his side and both smiling adoringly down at her.

then there are the ones from her childhood, the ones she remembers. sitting on eddie's lap while he teaches her guitar. getting carried on his shoulders at her first metallica concert. giggling at the funny voices and faces he made while reading to her. asleep in the back seat of his van, curled up with the stuffed dragon she's had since she was a baby.

eddie making devil horns with her to celebrate her spelling bee win.

you braiding her unruly curls for her middle school graduation.

you and eddie hugging her in a sandwich on the night of junior prom, forcing her date to take the photo (not pictured is the very long, very menacing lecture eddie gave the poor boy, even though he was just taking her as a friend. it worked though - he got her home an hour before curfew.)

"... you didn't want a kid, right?" she asks. "how did... how did you do it?"

you sigh, pulling her in close.

"it was terrifying," you admit. "but... i had your dad. we had each other. and we had everyone else in the family with us, too. none of it has ever been easy, but it's all been so much better because we're surrounded by people who love us, and we love you more than anything. and that's what you've got to focus on. the good things will make you strong enough to kick the bad things in the teeth."

"hey, that's not how i taught her to fight," eddie chimes as he enters the room. "kicking teeth is too difficult. you gotta go for an uppercut, jam the fucker's nose into his skull."

he grins and flops down onto the couch beside her, kissing her forehead.

"ready to head out, padawan?"

she nods.

"yeah. i'm actually... i'm really excited!"

as you watch her bound into the back seat of eddie's jeeep, he wraps his arms around your shoulders, hugging you tightly and pressing your back to his chest.

"we made a pretty cool little human," he muses.

"yeah," you agree. "yeah, we really did."

#eddie munson #eddie asks #muerta's works #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson imagine #modern!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader fluff #🦔 anon

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respectthepetty · 1 year

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I guess I have a question, which you may have answered before, but why are characters specifically colour-coded red and blue more often than other colours?

You also often refer to those colour-coded red as red rascals and those blue as blue boys, but do those colours always tie in with similar personalities? (Are there such few colour-coded personalities?!)

I lied. There are multiple questions lol

@sliceduplife - Well, hell-ooooh!

I love you for these questions, so let me dive in!

Quick Facts:

We color code the shit out of everything, all the time. We, as humans, are trained to do this. Think about your favorite cartoons growing up - PowerPuff Girls, Winnie the Pooh, Care Bears, Power Rangers, y todo. Color coded.

Therefore, we associate those colors with emotions and personalities: Yellow is happy. Blue is reserved. Red is passionate. Green is prosperous. Et cetera.

The written word came before mass visual media, so colors are still, even today, deeply embedded into literature. Harry Potter: Hufflepuff - Yellow = Happy; Ravenclaw - Blue = Reserved; Gryffindor - Red = Passionate; Slytherin - Green = Prosperous, Game of Thrones, and Scarlet Letter.

This tradition of color coding has continued into visual media - Heathers (each Heather has a different color), The Breakfast Club (each student has a different color associated with them), Pirates of the Caribbean (each character has a specific color), Bridgerton (each family has a color scheme that also shows their alliance)

Even stores and brands align with a color to promote certain characteristics that are associated with that color: Pepsi vs. Coca-Cola, Walmart vs. Target, Hulu vs. Netflix

Are there such few colour-coded personalities?

This is not Pantone. How many colors do you want, homie?! Since humans like categorizing items, we like to keep it simple or black and white (hehe). Colors aren’t solely the character’s entire personality, but they do help visually emphasize certain aspects of a character’s personality without it having to be explicitly stated. Characters are dynamic, but the colors help us see in a quick glimpse what are their core traits.

Also note that I downplay a lot of terms. When I use my terms like Blue Boy and Red Rascal, know that is my fun and simple way of categorizing the characters. Normally, professionals speak of hues, secondary and tertiary colors, tones, undertones, and schemes (mono, complementary, analogous, triadic). I already write too much. Ain’t nobody got time for me to be even worse.

Do those colours always tie in with similar personalities?

If people are doing their jobs correctly, yes.

Think about parents of sextuplets. They tend to buy the same item in six different colors, and each kid is designated a specific color. It can reflect the child's personality. It helps the kids not fight. It helps the parents keep track of the items. It helps maintain order.

That’s what most color coding does. It’s the wardrobe department’s way of maintaining order on a set that consists of several people needing several different outfits each day. On a set like Between Us where there were FIVE couples plus other side characters or My School President where we have a band and a student council, it helps to color code the main characters, so the department can instantly spot when someone isn’t wearing the right outfit for the scene or has the wrong item.

But the colors aren’t randomly selected. Wardrobe, as well as hair and makeup, set design, colorists, lighting, and many other departments, must work with the Director of Photography/Cinematographer to ensure that the colors and style align to the character. In Manner of Death, Bun, a Blue Boy, wore mostly collared shirts because he has a by-the-book personality, while Tan, a Black Brooder, wore crew neck shirts, even under button-up shirts to show his uninhibited nature.

If people are communicating, there will be clear plan for the style of a character which includes colors based on personality traits or situational needs. 609 Bedtime Story tied a color scheme to the different universes instead of a specific person: blue and black to Dew’s world; green, red, yellow to Mum’s world; purple to the in-between world. The colors were still carefully selected because Dew’s world is cold and isolating, Mum’s world is full of life, and the fantasy world is where the blues and reds meet.

Semantic Error’s colors were necessary for the plot because (I’m not using technical terms here) red, the color Sang Woo hates, is the color of an error, while green is the color of a command, and blue is the color of what should occur when the command is inputted, which is why they were a Green Guy and a Blue Boy because they work together to complete the task. Genius!

That’s why the cinematographer has to communicate with all the departments it oversees and the director to make sure the outfits, the lighting, the sets, and the post-editing all align to the director’s vision.

Would Legally Blonde’s Elle Woods wear brown? No! Pink is an integral component of her personality, and all the departments worked hard to make that clear.

The colors mean things! They add details to the narrative and reinforce the plot. Even if the character isn’t wearing the color consistently, the colors in the scene matter.

Why are characters specifically colour-coded red and blue more often than other colours?

Opposites attract.

On the color wheel, the complimentary colors are red/green and blue/orange (as well as yellow/purple but nobody cares about my faves). They are opposite of each other. HOWEVER, when color was introduced into film, the primary colors were the easiest to produce: red, blue, and yellow. These three colors when combined in various ways, make every other color possible. We now have cyan (blue-green), magenta (blue-red), and yellow. Not going to make this technical, so know that it boils down to convenience. If a company is going to spend a lot of money on filming, if a mistake happens, color-wise, the easiest mistakes to fix are going to be the ones involving these colors.

Also, blue and red represent opposite personalities. Red is spontaneous while blue is consistent. Red is passionate while blue is reserved. Red is dominant while blue is passive. Red is energetic while blue is calming. Red is fire while blue is ice. Red is the sun while blue is the moon. If the plot includes two people who are at conflict or appear as opposites, red and blue are the colors to demonstrate it.

However, America does love a good Red Rascal and Black Brooder in a romcom.

#Asian QLs #The colors mean things #the cinematography #color coded boys #background noise

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motherfuckingmaneater · 3 months

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Coathangers scratch against a metal rack, dust soaring into the air as old fabrics are pushed and prodded.

“Gods, mum! You might’ve even had more clothes than me!” Delphini exclaims, eyes wide as she takes in the different colors and textures of her mother’s teenage wardrobe. The entire closet smells a bit stale, as though the air hadn’t been breathed in years. It likely hadn’t.

Delphini used to explore her mother’s old rooms regularly when she was small and the witch in question was locked away from them. Unfortunately, Bella's closet had been spelled to remain locked - Cygnus always joked that it was likely because the sisters were notorious for stealing clothes from one another. As though they didn’t each have enough of their own, tailored to perfection. No matter how relentlessly Delphini had tried she’d never been able to manage the counterspell. Turns out just a bit of blood would’ve done the trick this entire time.

The younger witch smiles as a piece in dark navy catches her eye. It has a deep plunge, nearly down to the waistline where it is synched with an elegant silver bow, sterling shimmers are speckled down the silhouette of the dress and a few up the scandalous bodice. They gleam like stars in the sky, glistening as she turns the fabric.

“What in Salazar’s name was this for?”

She's sipping wine as she feels the sheer raw silk of a silver dress beneath inked fingers. She remembers wearing it, her mother screaming her horror in French, Bellatrix refusing to take it off - all because it had been her seventeenth birthday and she was now a witch of age who didn't have to abide by her parents rules. She smirked at the memory. Druella would be turning in her grave if she saw her eldest daughter now.

"I suppose." she replies without looking up. They're Blacks, they have everything they want and more. "But I had Cygnus, Orion and Walburga a lot longer than you did."

They spoilt her, she means. Delphini was spoilt as a child too; beyond comparison. Certainly the most of any of the Black children. Finally she turns her gaze up, dark grey eyes searching along the multiple railings of endless dresses and outfits to the dress in question. Bare feet pad silently along the long untouched carpet of her walk in closet, a laugh on her lips.

"You know, I truly believe it was only by Cersi's grace your grandmother lived as long as she did. I must've tried to kill her at least fifty times with my clothing choices. This... was Abraxas' New Years party," she said, "he threw a rather good one. Father's were better though - there was always muggle hunting involved. The next day in their papers their deaths would be blamed on the muggles drinking too much, ha! Anyhow, everyone wanted to dance with me - can you blame them, really? - but I only let one person take me to the floor. . ." She moves along the railings, looking to a rather extravagant piece in emerald. ". . .Then, how could I resist? Your father always was a good dancer."

Serpents adorn the tight bodice of the dress she's now appraising, silk and fitted, a daring slit to the thigh.

"This was my dress to the yule ball, my final year. I was the first Slytherin head girl in twenty-five years. I had to make a statement."

#daughterofyourdarklord #maneaters roleplays #aww mummy daughter bonding <3 #shes going to show her the dagger collection next #and the black family royalty heirlooms #she may also learn a lot about dademort in this thread #heh #this will be fun

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clearlydiamondz · 2 years

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Loyalty To Royalty

Erik!Stevens x OC

Part One

- - - - - - - - - -

Princess Imani was the black sheep of her family, never really fitting the female royal type. When an arrange marriage between Prince N'Jadaka and her is set up, she tries her hardest to get away... but she just can’t.

- - - - - - - - - -

Imani sat in front of her makeup table looking at her half done hair. Her stylist were in her wardrobe helping her get ready for the dinner by doing her hair and makeup and getting her dressed ready. Imani did not have a need to eat or be around a bunch of people right now. The door opened as her father came in.

“Can you guys give us a minute?” he asked the stylist as they bowed their head. They exited the room while her father walked towards the makeup table, Imani threw the brush she had in her hand onto the table.

“So, you’re still giving me the cold shoulder?” her father asked crossing her arms over her chest. She didn’t say anything while she looked into the mirror, her tongue sliding across the inside of her cheek. “This is ridiculous.” he started but she turned around to look at him.

“No but you know what is ridiculous? I have told you plenty of times that I am not ready for this marriage. Especially the person that you guys are deciding to marry me off with.” she snapped at him. “I told you I can easily become queen by myself. I don’t need a man to help me rule. And if you can’t accept that, I could’ve been just fine going to America and living my life there.” she snapped at him as he laughed.

“Crazy is what you must be. Do you know how dangerous America truly is?” he asked her.

“It’s better then being traded for what? Peace?” she asked him as his head fell low. “Why don’t you ask, Amarah?” she asked him. Amarah was her step sister. The two of them could never really get a long, always bumping heads with each other. Amarah wanted the princess life style so once she heard that her mother was marrying King Z’Kiri, she gunned for Imani’s spot for queen.

No matter how hard she tried though, Imani had a deep love for the country of Kambaho. Neighbors with the country of Wakanda, the two of them share the mines from the meteor. She wanted her country to succeed and maintain to be one of the strongest countries in the world. She knew without a shadow of a doubt she could run her country. As a young child, she would write and dream about the things she could do for her country.

“You know exactly why, Imani. Look. I know you love and care about the people of these lands. But marrying Prince N’Jadaka, will secure peace and protection for these people.” he reminded her as she looked down at her hands. “Your mother and I have been preparing you to become queen your entire life. Amara and Oshana have been preparing for what, three years? You and I both know you are more capable of handling something like this.” he whispered as if someone was going to hear him talk about the two of them. She laughed at what he said. She stood up walking closer to him.

“You can put your trust in me to be a ‘queen’ but you can’t put your trust in me to do it without a man? Tuh...” she said shaking her head. “If you have to depend on another nation to protect our people father, then you failed as a king.” she spat out at him. He looked at her, jaw clenched.

“They should be here within the hour. Do not disappoint me.” Was all he said before he walked out. She rolled her eyes sitting back down on the chair. The door opened as the stylist crew came back in.

“Imani, are you ready?’ they asked him as she nodded.

“Yes, thank you.” She was in her own world when the castle lead maid and their old nanny, Kami came in. She saw the stressed face on Imani’s look as she pulled a chair sitting up beside her.

Kami has been her nanny since Imani was just three days old. Now, she isn’t a nanny anymore but she has been the next best things from a mother she could ask for. Ever since her father got re0married to her step mother Oshana, he’s been distant of her. It was like when her mother passed, he became a completely different person.

“Wanna tell me what runs loose in that head of yours?” she asked her. Imani couldn’t help but let tears run down her face.

“Kami how could he do this!? Mom always engraved into his head that she didn’t want me to be put in some fucked up marriage agreement shit. She wanted me to find love like how they did!” she exclaimed as Kami wiped her tears.

“Oh darling... I know. I’ve done my fair sharing of trying to convince your father that this was horrendous. But, I’ve watched you become an incredible woman. And I know that you’ll be an amazing queen.” she reminded her.

“I know, but what if this keeps me away from the person I’m suppose to be with?” she asked hiccupping, as Kami sighed.

“When you meet this person, there will be nothing that will get in the way if it’s meant to be. That’s just how fate works.” she told him as she nodded. “And plus, if something goes left just sneak a lil arsenic in his coffee. Won’t be detectible in an autopsy.” she joked making Imani laughed.

“Now stop all that crying, I want you to go out there and show out. You understand, me?” The two of them smirked at each other.

- - - - - - - - - -

Erik leaned against the columns with the champagne glass in his hand. He didn’t want to be here at all, rather be in Wakanda at one of the clubs in Birnin Zana. T’Challa walked up beside him before looking at him. “You good?” he whispered as he chuckled.

“Great.” Erik said while taking a sip out of the champagne glass. “I don’t even know what she looks like.” he rolled his eyes as Erik sighed.

“Listen, I tried to convince the board against it. But our fathers were both adamant on you doing this. And plus, you can help the country use their resources to become stronger.” T’Challa reminded him. “Plus I know Imani. Imani is very out spoken so like a match made in heaven.” Erik rolled his eyes.

“I highly doubt that.”

T’Challa was about to say something but a woman came up to the two of them. She wore a long off white gown that was long sleeve. It was tight around her upper area but loosened when it got to her hips.

“Prince T’Challa. Prince N’Jadaka.” A woman stood in front of them, smiling at the both of them. She put her hands out for the both of them to shake as the two of them did.

“Hi, you must be...” T’Challa trailed off expecting her to say her real name. Erik noticed that she looked surprised by the fact that they didn’t know who she was. He couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’m Amarah. The step daughter of King Z’Kiri.” she said. “Wait you don’t know who I am? My mother is a well known actress here in Kambaho. Oshana?” she asked. They looked at each other then back at her, shaking their heads. “Anyways, I know about the both of you. The Black Panther. The Golden Jaguar. I’m really huge fans of the both, especially you Prince N’Jadaka.” she smirked at him.

“Oh well we appreciate it.” Erik said trying not to laugh into the cup. She was about to say something else but Imani walked into the dining room. Immediately she caught Erik's’ eye. She wore a satin forest green gown that feel to the floor, but hugged her body perfectly around her waist, hips and ass. It had spaghetti straps, showing off her brown skin. Her dreads were freshly tighten, to her waist and a slit on the side.

“That’s her.” T’Challa said as Erik looked her up and down. T’Challa saw the way he looked at her before smirking to himself.

“Why would she wear that?” Amarah whispered but they heard it.

Imani stood looking around the room. She saw her step mother and father shooting glares at her. She smiled at them before grabbing a champagne glass. “Princess Imani, I get to finally see you again.” she looked up seeing the three of them around each other.

“T’Challa... I told you Imani is just fine.” she walked to the both of them. She could sense the dodgers being stared through the side of her head by Amarah but she ignored her. “Also, what happened to me coming up and training with the Dora Milaje?”

“Okoye is waiting on you. She understands that your busy with your duties so she’s not itching it.” T’Challa said as she nodded. She looked at Erik raising an eyebrow.

“So, you’re not going to say anything?” she asked crossing her arms over her chest. He looked at T’Challa to see him smiling giving him a ‘I told you’ look.

He took his hand out for her to shake as she shook it. “My name is Erik.” he took it out for him to shake as she nodded. “And the one you were given?” she asked him. He looked at her confused as she laughed, “I’m being forced to marry you, you don’t think I’ll do my own research?”

“It’s N’Jadaka.” he said.

“Gentlemen, young ladies.” Her father walked up as the two of them bowed at him.

“King Z’Kiri. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Erik said shaking his hand. Her father smiled at him.

“Prince N’Jadaka. I’m looking forward to what the future holds between both of our families.” her father said. “But excuse us, I need to talk to my daughter alone.” he said giving him his elbow to grab. She rolled her eyes grabbing it.

“Well Erik, I will be looking forward to talking to you again.” she told him before walking away. Erik couldn’t help but stare at her as the two of them left. He heard Amarah scoff.

“Seems like she isn’t really on board with the marriage.” Erik said. T’Challa was about to reply but was cut off with Amarah.

“Oh she isn’t. Trust me. My mother and I think that she isn’t ready yet.” she said as T’Challa chuckled.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Kink Z’Kiri asked Imani. She looked down at her dress.

“I don’t see nothing wrong with it.” she said soothing it out, while flipping her hair over her shoulders. “What? Do I look disappointing?” she taunted him. He looked to the side before saying,

“Think about what you are doing.” he warned her. She looked at him back, twitching her eye. The dinner bell ring as she looked back at the long dining table. She broke away from him, sitting at the table.

“Princess Imani, I was looking everywhere for you. I was hoping to talk to you.” Ramonda said placing the napkin on her lap, Imani following her exact moves.

“I apologize. You know I could never keep you of all people waiting.” Imani responded to her as she chuckled. “How have you been Queen Ramonda?” Imani asked her. She was referring to the death of her husband, King T’Chaka.

“I am doing well Princess Imani. Thank you.” she smiled at her.

“How many times do I have to tell you guys, Imani will do just fine.” she said. “How is Shuri?” she asked.

“Stuck in that lab all day like always.”

Everyone else started to pile in, Erik and Amarah came in last. Erik sat across from Imani starring at her. She didn’t look away, starring at him back. He squinted his eyes at her as she looked down at her plate.

The food was being served and everyone was talking. “So Erik...” she started, the entire table looking at her. “Do you think you have what it takes to be a king?” she asked him.

“Imani!” her father and step mother gasped. She looked at them confused.

“What? Let’s just cut to the chase.” she shrugged her shoulders. “I mean, this should be the questions you should be asking father as the ruler of this country.” she tilted her head. T’Challa coughed on his drink.

“Anyways, are you going to answer?” she asked him.

“He does not have to answer that.” Amarah stepped in looking between the two.

“I’m sorry am I not the only one who is concerned about the well being of this country's future? Not only ours but theirs too!?” she asked looking around the table. T’Challa cleared his throat.

“I hate to intervene in this-” he paused looking around. “Family disagreement. But she does make a good point. Me coming out about what our countries are capable of, a lot of world leaders are going to want to take over because they deem us not capable of handling these types of weapons. As a future leader, she should be able to ask the important questions that can affect the country.” T’Challa stood up for her. She smiled at him.

“Well-” he cleared his throat. “-I served in the United States Navy as a Navy Seal. I then joined the U.S military black-ops unit-”

“And that’s where you gained the name Killmonger?” she asked him. He was thrown off by how she knew the name.

“How the-”

“Like I said, if I am being forced to marry a man against my will, I’m doing well needed research. Not just searching your name on google and looking on the first page.” she reminded him. He sat back in his chair, rubbing his chin staring at her.

Ramonda smirked while putting a piece of steak in her mouth. “Stop saying it like that.” her father mumbled as she rolled her eyes.

“So do I pass your test?”

“What test do you know of that only has one question?”

The dinner was finished while everyone stayed around and talked. She found herself on the balcony trying to get some time to herself. That’s when she heard heavy foot steps on the ground. Thinking it was her father she said,

“If you come to chastise me about what I did I only did it to prove to you that-” she stopped when she turned around and saw Erik standing there leaning on the door frame.

“Well personally ion have an issue about it. But your dad and mom are-”

“Step-mom.” she cut him off. He placed his hands into his pocket stepping forward.

“My apologies.” he said lifting his hands up. “What are you even doing out here?” she asked him sitting down on one of the furniture chairs crossing her legs.

“You seemed a little annoyed in there.” he said attempting to make conversation with her. She looked over at him then down at her fingers.

“Well do you blame me?” she asked tilting her head to the side. “Honestly it freaks me out that you aren’t as concerned as me?” she asked him standing up walking passed him. He sighed scratching the back of his head.

“Actually, it does. But there are bigger pictures to be painted.” he reminded her as she tilted her head confused about what what he was talking about. “From what my Auntie tells me, you are more than capable of running a country, by yourself.” he said to her. She was intrigued by what this man had to say about the situation, considering she thought he was in on it. But it seemed like he was making a deal.

“What’s in it for you?” she asked looking at him and crossing her shoulders over her chest.

“See, I just don’t want to use this technology for just us. I want to help a lot of my brothers and sisters around the world fight their oppressors’. If you guys open up your mines for Wakanda to help make weapons, some of those weapons we can share with the outside world.” she heard the plan before laughing. He got offended by the laugh because he rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“Do you know how dumb of an idea that is?” she asked wiping the tears away from her face. “Those weapons should not be used to cause a freaking.. race war. And plus, how do you know that you could trust them with these weapons. And how could you even make sure that other governments don’t try to recreate these weapons. Did they not do that with Iron Man and his suits?” she asked him before shaking her head.

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get there. It’s not a race war, but it’s a count of having things to protect them.” he explained to her. Now it was her time to roll her eyes in annoyance.

“You seem like a smart guy who knows his history. Do you honestly think the world will peacefully abide by people who look like us with weapons that lethal? Every time in history where black folk gain just a tad bit of power and control, it’s quickly seen as us becoming dangerous and terrorism. I know you’re very educated about the black panthers.” she told him walking inside as he followed her.

“Yeah and what does he have to do with it?”

“I’m not talking about the black panther. I’m talking about the black panthers. Plural with an S. From America. Established in your hometown Oakland, 1966. Ring a bell?” she said. “Look what happened, they had all the right intentions and it all went down once people saw how much change they were doing.” she reminded him shaking her head. He scoffed at what she was saying,

“Of course I wouldn’t expect you to understand where I’m coming from. You’ve never had to face the shit we have living in a big ass fancy castle.” he spat at her. He expected her to get her feelings hurt, maybe even kick him out but she grabbed her chest.

“Ooh.. that almost hurt my feelings, handsome.” she fake pouted at him. He hated to admit it, but that turned him on. “Trust me, I’ve seen some shit. Maybe not as much as you, but I have. And trust me, this is not the way to do it. As future king, you will have the resources to do it trust me.” she told him. He fake laughed, almost like he was mocking her.

“And why haven’t you or you’re country done it before? Use your resources?”

“You don’t think I haven’t tried?” she asked. “My mother and I had plans to create a program that helps black families all around the world get into safe houses. Proper education. Infinite help on every life necessity. Protection from people who think we should be killed just because we are black. The plan never went into motion because she-” she stopped herself, Erik catching the shift in emotion.

“I even proposed a plan to my father years ago about a team of people who will be sent to places around the world, especially America, who can fight for those who can’t for themselves.”

“This is more than just putting them into safe houses though. We need to-”

“We need to seek revenge?” she asked finishing the sentence. “Yeah.. no. See this is exactly what T’Challa is talking about. We are black with the most powerful weapons that the world has to offer. They are already talking about making plans on trying to colonize Wakanda because of the mines. They don’t think we are capable of having these guns.” she told him. He scoffed before saying,

“No they know we are completely capable. We’ve had vibranium for over hundreds of years and survived with it. They are just scared of what we could have done with it and can do with it.” he told her as she looked at the ground then back at him.

“I know the anger that my brothers and sisters around the world have because of what our ancestors been through. Trust me it angers me. But if those weapons get out on the street, there is no telling what can happen. And guess what, we will be the blame for it no matter who’s hands it gets in.” she told him. “I won’t let you use my country and it’s people as a headquarters for your revolution. Not when the chances of them getting hurt are high.” she snapped at him. She walked passed him before stopped at the entrance.

“One hell of a first impression though. Really did a number on me.” she said before walking out. Erik couldn’t help but stare at her as she left. There was something so enticing about this girl that he didn't mind being around her presence. To how beautiful she was, to her smart mouth, and to her body.

- - - - - - - - - -

“Can I talk to you?” T’Challa asked her as she nodded. She followed him to the side where the two of them could talk. She leaned against the wall. He made sure no one was following them before he started to talk. “Shuri has finished all of the upgrades on your suit.” he told him as she smiled.

“Really? When can I get it?”

“That’s the thing. We need to get it to you without it looking suspicious. With the vibranium, we can’t mail it because-” she cuts him off by saying,

“They’ll detect we’ll smuggling vibranium because it’s in the suit.” she said as he nodded. It went quiet as she thought of ways to smuggle the suit across the boarders. “Or, you can tell people about how you’re the Silver-.”

“Aht Aht.” she hits him in the chess as he rubbed it in pain.

“Just saying this would be a lot more easier....” he trailed off as she rolled her eyes. Suddenly an idea popped up in her head.

“We can use Erik.” she told him. “No one will suspect if he gives me a ‘gift’ because I’m his soon to be wife. Especially if it’s hinted that it has vibranium.” she finished smiling at the idea. He thought about it for a few seconds before shrugging.

“Why not?”

- - - - - - - - - -

@waveynaee @lalaooopsie @luvvvjada @nccu-rnc @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @leahnicole1219 @meeksmillsfrenchfries @hinatasfleshlight @kokokonako @junie04 @sourbabynaee @sociallyawkward18 @raysunshine78 @justgetitoverwith0 @lishabaybeee-blog @rbhp @ladymac82 @musicismeb

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daisychainsandbowties · 7 months

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Fireside, cider, orchard, quilt? 🥺👉👈

fireside: if you had your dream wardrobe, what would it look like?

this is going to sound so autistic but my ideal wardrobe would be 1000 soft hoodies that never get dirty (and definitely among them that shin hati one from hot topic 🥰🥰)

and then (bdbdbdb) soft trousers that somehow work as they should and look good and actually fit me but without the waistband touching me ever at all

oh! and for summer 5 different soft t-shirts and a toggle on/off button for top surgery. tits should definitely just be a wardrobe thing i should be able to put those little guys in a drawer (with snacks i’m not a monster!)

and a cloak!! a big black cloak that flares dramatically on command and can be used as a sleeping bag or a soft blanket or a weapon in combat. and it gives me advantage on stealth checks

and also lightsabers and swords for accessories. um and boots with so many buckles for no reason but soft and they let me use the dash action as a bonus action

and the wardrobe itself would just be my inventory. a pocket dimension

cider: a food that you disliked as a child but now enjoy.

vegetables!! 🥰🥰 my mom used to make me eat carrots on pain of death and based on lies about darkvision and ‘rudolph would be so disappointed he loves carrots casper’ but now i like all vegetables (okay except cucumber and beetroot and parsnips) and especially green ones. and ESPECIALLY broccoli. little trees you can eat like ur one of those long-neck dinosaurs and actually to ants and fruit flies that’s exactly what you are 😳🥹🥹

orchard: share one thing that you’d like to happen this autumn

wow the future exists ummmm i would like… for my friends to be happy i mean that’s maslow’s whole entire triangle right? pyramid scheme but it’s my friends are happy and i don’t understand what a pyramid scheme is

on a more personal note i want shin and sabine to fuck nasty or if we want to get super extreme maybe also kiss 🤔🥰

quilt: how do you take your tea/coffee

um well my favourite tea is lapsang souchong for normal reasons not because a dragon was called that one time and he was super polite and good at chess and a crime lord. i have that just plain because of course!!

coffee i also drink black but not often because it makes me feel sick. i REALLY like the fancy ones like lattes and caramel macchiatos and cappuccino but they make me even more sick so… yeah. i do keep a tin of coffee around to smell though because you should be more cat and just sniff things. then you can smell when other people are sick like me and hannibal lecter. 🥰🥰

#ask meme #ty esther those were good ones 🥺💖💖

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kaylasfos · 2 months

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little blurb about me and henry in the style of tsh, from richard’s point of view <3

I would think that Henry didn’t have feelings if it weren’t for the existence of Kayla.

She was a sweet, small girl adorned with freckles that made her look younger and round glasses that made her look older. She was an English Literature student. She was almost always attached to Henry’s arm like an extension of him. They were an odd-looking pair. Her beiges and whites were a complete contrast to Henry’s wardrobe, made up of entirely black and charcoal gray. In fact, it seemed like everything about Kayla was in complete contrast to Henry.

Their relationship was strange to me, and seemingly to everyone else, too. Kayla’s mere presence made Henry lighter. His cold demeanor would melt away and he’d visibly relax. He always kept a hand on the small of her back, something that seemed like a sign of love but everyone knew was a sign of possession. I thought much about it, and could not come to a conclusion as to whether Henry actually loved Kayla, wanted to have her to himself, or some strange mix of both.

She was, apparently, Julian’s goddaughter. He was the sole reason she had applied to Hampden in the first place. Her mother had been close with him during his peak as a writer, and, upon her untimely death, he had given her a hefty sum of money and agreed to pay for her college tuition. He never gave the stipulation that she attended Hampden, but she saw it as a favor to him.

Kayla melded into the group well enough, but she still seemed like an outsider. She didn’t know any Greek or Latin, a fact that seemed to grate at her whenever we would throw around phrases she didn’t understand. Though sometimes I’d hear Henry whisper something in another language to her (I couldn’t make out what) and she’d giggle, the sound like a bell, and kiss his cheek. Those moments were the most genuinely happy I had ever seen Henry. It seemed like his entire world revolved around her, like she was the sun and he was the planets.

Conversely, when she wasn’t around, his disposition would turn sour and sullen. There was a week during the semester where we hardly saw her because she was cramming for her exams. During that short time, Henry was constantly irritable, his usual brooding attitude much more evidently morose. Though, when she returned, his brusqueness went away once more.

That wasn’t to say that their relationship was perfect, though. According to Bunny, who despite his pension for lying knew Henry better than any of us did, their fights were few but impassioned. For all her sweetness, Kayla was quite jealous, and so was Henry. This threw them into spirals where they would continuously try in vain to make the other jealous, which always ended poorly. Bunny’s claims were corroborated by Francis, who absolutely adored Kayla and considered her a close friend.

I experienced this firsthand on a random Saturday night in September. I had been dragged out by Judy for a night of drinking, and I found myself on the porch of a frat house, desperate to get away from the sweaty college kids that were just beyond the door. When I stepped out into the cool fall air, I was shocked to find her sitting on the steps, smoking a cigarette. This did not seem like her scene at all.

Hesitantly, I approached her. For a moment, as I called her name, I was nervous that my eyes could be deceiving me and I’d make myself look stupid.

I wasn’t sure which one of us was more shocked. She spun around and stared at me like a deer in the headlights, or a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Richard?”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, sitting beside her. “Where’s Henry?”

At the mention of him, I wondered what Henry would think about my being alone with his girlfriend. She was so cute, so small and vulnerable, with her bouncy curls and big brown eyes. The smell of beer lingered on her breath, and weed on her clothes. If she weren’t who she was, I just may have come onto her.

She rolled her eyes. “Henry,” she mumbled. “I just exist as a fucking extension of Henry, don’t I?”

“Huh?” I said dumbly. She shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. Her nails were perfectly manicured. She lifted the cigarette to her mouth and took a long drag of it before she looked my way again.

“He’s mad at me,” she said simply. “And I’m mad at him.”

“Um…why?”

“Because he’s a dick,” she muttered, kicking a stray pebble that was at her feet. “I’m sorry, I know you’re his friend, but I just…ugh. He’s impossible sometimes.”

“I thought you guys loved each other.”

“What? We do.” She looked at me quizzically, as if I had sprouted a second head. Before I could think of another clever thing to say, she continued, “Richard, have you ever been in love with someone?”

I thought to myself. I had had girlfriends in the past, sure, but I didn’t know if I could say that I was in love with them. Did I like them? Yes. Was I in love with them? Maybe not.

Despite my lack of answer, she once again continued to speak. “I’m in love with Henry. I know that, and he knows that, and everyone knows that. But sometimes he’s just so… frustrating. He doesn’t listen, and he has this idea that he knows better than me, and he thinks Julian is this great all-knowing power who could answer him the secrets of the damn universe if he wanted… sorry, I know you like Julian, and I do too, but he’s just so pretentious… and ugh!” She took a deep breath. “I love Henry. He loves me. But he sometimes treats me like I’m intellectually inferior to him, and it kills me.”

I didn’t know what to say to this. Clearly, Kayla was very drunk. I had never heard her speak this much in one sitting once in the time I had known her. I was shocked at her words; she thought Julian was pretentious? And she and Henry seemed so happy together. They were an idyllic couple in my mind. But then again, Henry was not without his flaws. He was most certainly arrogant, but I always thought he deserved to be. He was smart.

But Kayla was smart too, and she didn’t deserve to be treated poorly by him.

Part of me wanted to kiss her, just to see what she would do, but that was probably the result of the cocktail of drugs and alcohol in my system. Before I could make any rash decisions, though, a car pulled up to the front of the house. Kayla dropped her cigarette onto the pavement, then stood up and crushed it with her heel.

“I have to go,” she mumbled. “Sorry, Richard. Don’t tell Henry that I told you all that.”

Then she was gone.

#self shipping #💞 rises the moon ; ( henry )#📚 love letter ; ( tsh )

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onyourhyuck · 2 years

Text

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐊ᵃ𝐫𝐦𝐚. | Season 2

synopsis; park areum is a journalist who happens to get her life involved with the mafia leader war and havoc, lee jeno. areum’s brother was kidnapped by the japanese mafia na yuta and areum was able to successfully get jisung back— however with a price that she betrays lee jeno by selling out important information of his base whereabouts. it’s been a year ever since that day and areum happens to get involved in the mafia world again.

warning: mafia au/theme, thriller, action, romance, smut!!, lots of fighting here and mentions of blood, park areum is a bad bitch ykyk, dreamies are here for plot, love triangle!!!!, angst.. massive angst, death mentions of characters, alcohol mention, guns mention, switch!areum, switch Jeno!, rough kissing, gripping, degrading, praising, love scenes, unprotected seggs [wrap your willys sons pls, use it 😃], slowburn romance, prepare for a long ass ride.JEALOUSY, Exhibitionist scenes (almost caught etc) semi public scenes with sexual tension. PLOT TWISTS AND CLIFFHANGERS <3 THIS IS SEASON 2, CHECK SEASON 1 OUT BEFORE READING THIS SEASON PLSSSS.

PART 25 / 25. Previous Part 24 / 25

╭──────────────────────╮

a soft sigh left the nervous lips, a reflection of areum stood in the large wardrobe mirror that you can retract back. Its been a while since jeno and areum went on a date, yet she’s having these..pre-nervous date emotions right now, as well as getting butterflies!

areum hears a knock, averting her brown iris pupils to stare at the door with dilated eyes. Hand reaching for the door knob, she opens it revealing a masculine man all dressed up matching according to her dress. Seemingly, jeno planned to wear matching outfits. Jeno wore a white suit and an open shirt half unbuttoned buttons on the top, revealing his built muscles. the woman wore what jeno told her to tonight, a formal blazer-like dress in white, with a black bag on the side. Her hair would be in wavy black locks.

he flashes areum a smile holding out his hand for her, “you’re beautiful, shall we get going?” jeno chirps. areum lightly smiles as her hand wraps in his, nodding. “let’s go, mr lee.” areum tells.

the two walk down the stairs as they bid goodbye to minjae and nayoung as well, haechan and jisung telling them to go on their date already; they claim that nayoung and minjae will be absolutely fine in their care when they’re away.

jeno helps areum to get inside the expensive car, as he then joins areum in the back seat too. the driver he’s hired would start driving off slowly away from the base. The car was filled with silence, but the fidgeting areum did were loud to his ears, jeno side eyeing his lover next to him.

“you’re worrying about the kids aren’t you?” jeno leisurely asks as he moves a hand on top of her exposed thighs, squeezing it to reassure that everything is fine. areum slightly relaxes, humming. “yeah sorry, i mean— what if jisung and haechan set something on fire? And then something bad happens to minjae and nayoung? ” areum explained forward, jisung is a child in her eyes and haechan— he’s unique, that’s what he is.

the man softly gaze at areum, leaning forward. “baby, i’m sure kun will be taking over their job. everything will be fine, trust me. now relax!” he cheers the girl who let out a ghostly smile. he’s right, the kids are at the base, everything will go smoothly.

the drive came to a stop revealing a sandy area with a enchanting open beach bar, jeno hired professional chefs as well as renting the beach bar for themselves to enjoy for the entire evening.

areum wows with jeno next to her, her eyes lighting up at the aesthetically pleasing view. A pinkish red with hints of yellow sunset in the sky, a lighting speed sea water hovering on the shore back and forth, sounding like a soft lullaby to her ears; a soft jaz music lingers from the open bar. Everything seemed so quiet, peaceful— everything what areum really needed. Peace.

jeno and areum arriving in the open bar, they were welcomed by the sushi chef warmly. the two sat down in front of the chef as he starts to perform the food in front of them.

it was an interesting experience to see how sushi are made. jeno smiles holding chopsticks, passing one to areum. “hope you’re hungry because i’ll be making tons sushi, miss park.” the chef chuckles forward as he whispers, teasing jeno. “he told me to feed you a lot so don’t blame me.”

areum grins as she glances to jeno who side eyes the chef with a scoff. “exaggerating aren’t you?” he tells with banter. areum humming. “it sounds about right to me.”

the table of sushi were placed down in front of them, jeno digging in as the chef left the scene once he’s done his job, going to clean other objects and prepare something more. areum shifts in the seat going in a daze of thought as her sushi stays in the chopsticks hold.

jeno’s voice brought areum back to reality. “here you are worrying again,” jeno softly told with a soft voice, he’s very patient with her; understanding why she is worrying twenty four seven too, after all they just finished a war. areum looks back at jeno apologetically. “I’m sorryyyy…” she murmurs, eating the sushi finally.

He’d share a sushi roll feeding areum, who ate it once with a smile. he happily accepts the apology too. “Apology accepted because you ate the sushi i fed you.” jeno teasingly told.

areum scoffs a smile. “thank you, I really needed this jeno.” she told honestly, really needing a date away from everyone. To destress, mourn and appreciate life with her loved one.

he’d hum, his eyes couldn’t let go off how beautiful areum is. “you deserve everything, areum.” jeno would say, the strong brave woman he fell first and hard for he’s willing to do anything for her. Those words cause areum to stare at him in surprise when he suddenly moves, holding her hand softly directing areum to follow up from the seat and to the centre of the sushi bar.

slow dancing together when jeno wraps the hands on areum’s waist, swaying to the music together. Areum follows jeno’s body movements, his legs that moved so flatteringly on the floor. She wraps hands up to the broad shoulders, areum letting out a whisper. “I don’t know how to dance so beware your feet.” She’d jokingly add, causing jeno to chuckle.

he matches her energy instantly, adding a sly humours response. “I can handle a little pain from you my love,” areum’s eyes sparkling up at the handsome man.

if she were told that she would be here in jeno’s arms in the future she would be calling a million no’s.

the couple dancing in the comforting and comfortable silence, when areum and jeno made sudden eye contact, a giggle and laughter couldn’t be contained. the silence broken, but their vibe most definitely was not. the youthful young energy wrapping them warmly.

the mafia man’s calm demure changes when he slowly averts backwards from the dance, letting go off areum as he spoke words of fantasy to areum.

“Marry me, Areum.”

jeno slowly bends down, going on one knee as a small square box was revealed in front of the woman. areum’s doe-innocent eyes widening at the sight of the ring.

it wasn’t long till areum’s eyes water with tears threatening to stream down her cheeks, jeno smiling at her emotional state. how can someone be so beautiful when crying?

“Yes, I’ll marry you jeno!” areum exclaims, her body lifting when jeno got up grabbing a hold of her body from above, twirling the woman in his arms around before dropping her back down on the feet, clasping hands on her face softly as his loving lips crash onto her soft warm welcoming ones.

their kiss passionately linking them together, as their heart beats as one. areum holding jeno close to her body, leaning all her love into the kiss interlocking them. It was a beautiful moment to remember, fairy-lights behind them dimming down.

jeno breaking apart, staring into areum’s eyes as he embraces her once again. “I love you. I can’t wait to spend my life with you.”

In the very moment, areum teary eyes as she smiles at those words to hear from him. “Me too, Jeno.”

────────────────────────

Masterlink for his karma!!

Yesss, areum and jeno are engaged~~ season 2 is done!!

@onyourhyuck please refer from copyrighting and plagiarising my work! REBLOG, SHARE AND LIKE THIS TO SEE MORE CONTENT OF THIS.

#nct fanfiction #nct smut #nct x reader #his karma #jeno smut #nct series

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lanadelreyvisualaesthetics · 2 years

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Lana Del Rey Unfiltered

With new music on the way, the singer-songwriter sits down with Gucci’s Alessandro Michele to discuss her unique creative process.

Sands Point, the tip of a peninsula on the North Shore of Long Island, was the inspiration for East Egg, the fictional Gold Coast setting of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. Once a rural retreat for robber barons, it’s now a nature preserve that abuts a New York City suburb. But a few Gilded Age mansions still remain along the shore, among them Castle Gould, an imposing stone pile modeled after an Irish manor. These days, from the beach, instead of a mysterious green light, one sees the high-rise buildings of downtown New Rochelle. Where champagne-fueled lawn parties might once have taken place, there’s now a dog run with a chain-link fence.

A castle in the suburbs feels like a very Lana Del Rey sort of place. Throughout her career, the 36-year-old musician, born Elizabeth Grant, has turned a hazy but unflinching lens on the concept of Americana, peeling back the sunny veneer of the American dream to reveal what’s really there. On her album covers, she’s a flower child in front of a beat-up pickup truck or a passenger on a sailing yacht, reaching out for help with acid yellow nails as the shoreline burns behind her. Even the titles of her records—Chemtrails Over the Country Club; Norman Fucking Rockwell!—hint at elements of the mundane or even sinister beneath a glamorous ideal.

It’s clear that the world Del Rey builds in her music is the one she inhabits. From the minute she steps out of a wardrobe trailer looking like a modern-day Jackie Kennedy in a black Gucci dress, holding a cup of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee, she imbues her surroundings with a certain charge. And she seems to literally radiate warmth: On an unseasonably cold, damp afternoon, as production and hair and makeup teams shiver in fleeces and anoraks, she wades into Long Island Sound in a sheer Valentino gown and emerges from the gray-brown water laughing.

As she prepares to release new music—a still untitled album is in the works—we invited the musician to have a conversation with Alessandro Michele, the creative director of Gucci, who, like Del Rey, has an alchemical relationship with nostalgia. Friends and collaborators for years, they both have a talent for twisting and prodding at tropes and historical references, using them as grist for work that feels entirely fresh. Here, they discuss the creative process, finding inspiration in the natural world, and working from the heart. —Andrea Whittle

Alessandro Michele: We met when we first did the Met Gala together in 2018, I think? I’m not good with dates.

Lana Del Rey: That’s why we’re creatives. I remember talking on the phone years ago. I couldn’t believe it when you told me you had been listening to my record while working on a new collection.

I think that you are going to remain forever in everybody’s mind with that Met Gala outfit—you looked like a goddess, like a saint. When you’re a creative person, it’s beautiful to be in touch with people like you, who are so delicate and sensitive. I’m still listening to your music, and I’m dreaming with your words.

I think delicacy comes out of being in a world where people can be very rough. When someone is quick-minded and smart, it’s rare that they’re also really kind. Working with you, I could finally take a breath and let fashion be fun again, and try on different silk robes and remind myself why I loved it in the beginning. Because when I was younger, I always thought stepping into fashion would be like slipping on a gauze gown. With you, that’s literally what it was like. When we worked on my dress for the Grammys, it was a bold entrance into a bigger world, and I thought, Can I do it? Am I allowed to present myself in a beautiful way? And what I learned through you is that sometimes, stepping into beauty doesn’t provoke criticism; it invites more of an understanding, where your inside does shine out through your outside.

Do you remember the shoot we did for the Gucci Guilty campaign, when Los Angeles was on fire?

Ashes were coming into my car vent on the 405 highway because Bel Air was burning. We were in the Valley shooting a scene, and everyone was in gas masks, and the sky was orange, which somehow seemed perfect.

It was so surreal, as L.A. is surreal.

From that point on, I added fire to the hillsides in my music videos.

I like the way you use elements of nature—not just fire, but water and weather—in your music and your videos.

My dad is a deep-sea shark fisherman—he has been for 15 years—and he lived on a boat in Providence, Rhode Island, from the age of 15 to 18. He was also a storm chaser. In California, earth, wind, and fire are huge. All the elements are taken into consideration with my art, all the time. Which is funny, because people often ask why I sing about California. But I usually sing about wherever I am, and it just so happens that California is such a storm center right now. I mean, I’m from Lake Placid, the coldest spot in the nation. For me, the California landscape never gets old.

In 2020, you released a book of poetry, Violet Bent Backwards Over the Grass. When you’re writing poems, is your creative process different from when you’re writing music?

There’s a big difference. First of all, to write poetry, I have to be in a really good mood and have nothing distracting or wrong going on. I almost have to be in a state of non-thought, and it can’t be forced. When a couple of lines come into my head, it’s like they’re completely channeled—I hate when people use that word, but I’ll use it. If I’m driving, I have to pull over and think, Well, where did that come from? I remember one time I had been sitting waiting for some food, and I started thinking:

Violet bent backwards over the grass

Seven years old with dandelions grasped tightly in her hand

Arched like a bridge in a fallen handstand

Grinning wildly like a madman

With the exuberance that only doing nothing can bring...

And I thought, Am I Violet? That is a family name. Is that a little bit of karmic lineage coming in? I definitely think that writing my poetry was the beginning of a more psychic, energetic opening to my family of origin. It’s also a little more nerve-racking, because the last thing you want to end up doing is sounding like Dr. Seuss. And no one can help you with it. The only person who every now and then sparks me to write is my friend Annie, because she’s so damn funny she makes me forget myself. And it’s through that act of self-forgetting that my channel is open again. All of a sudden, the first few lines of a poem will come, and I’m reminded, Oh yeah, you work well when you’re having a good time. You can’t push it. It’s a reminder to stay serene and balanced, which is really my priority: that psychological, spiritual preservation.

Are there any poets who have been important to you?

When I found out that Allen Ginsberg wrote Howl in a few days, and then I saw Lawrence Ferlinghetti reciting Loud Prayer, I realized that I didn’t have to go slowly to have something be good. I could work fast if I wanted to. I also relate to some of the sentiments from Walt Whitman’s work, and Sylvia Plath’s—she wrote with blatant honesty about the experience of being a woman, and the history of hysteria.

In the past, you’ve used colors and certain words to describe your records. Are there words or colors you’re using to describe your new music?

I’ve been practicing meditative automatic singing, where I don’t filter anything. I’ll just sing whatever comes to mind into my Voice Notes app. It’s not perfect, obviously. There are pauses, and I stumble. But I’ve been sending those really raw-sounding files to a composer, Drew Erickson, and he’ll add an orchestra beneath the words, matching each syllable with music and adding reverb to my voice. When I’m automatic singing, I don’t have the time and leisure to think about things in terms of colors. It’s very cerebral. In Honeymoon, there were so many color references: “Sometimes I wake up in the morning to red, blue, and yellow skies. It’s so crazy I could drink it like tequila sunrise.” For this new music, there’s none of that at all. It’s more just like: I’m angry. The songs are very conversational. For the first song, I pressed record and sang, “When I look back, tracing fingertips over plastic bags, I think I wish I could extrapolate some small intention or maybe get your attention for a minute or two.” It’s a very wordy album. So there’s no room for color. It’s almost like I’m typing in my mind.

I remember during the Gucci Guilty shoot when you started to sing. Your voice is so evocative. I would say when I listen to your music, I don’t know why, but I get the color white. It’s like there is no color for me; it’s just light.

I’ve been told that I am a very black and white thinker, and I’m actually working on that, because I think it’s born out of being in survival mode. With Drew, as I send him my songs, I can see that my thought process is either very joyful or very “Look, this is how it is.”

Do you remember your dreams? Do you ever use them in your work?

I’ve only recently started having dreams that are not stressful. My dream life is this intense other life. I think that’s why I’m tired during a lot of the daytime, because my dreams are so intricate. They’re obstacle courses, and I never use them in my work. In my work, if anything, I might even be trying to calm myself down from the way my mind is churning 24 hours a day, by just talking it all through. Do your dreams dictate your creations?

Not really, but I think that using creativity in a very dreamy way is something we have in common. I dream a lot every night. Sometimes I try to write what I dream in a book, and I love when I feel myself wild and free, because the unconscious part of us is beautiful. I think that when you use creativity, you are in touch with your unconscious parts.

I’m a big studier of Carl Jung, who says that the only opportunity that the unconscious has to speak to you is through your dreams, or through automatic writing, which is similar to what I do when I’m singing into my phone in the mornings. He even suggests you write with your left hand if you’re right-handed, so you can see what comes up first. Because you have to write so slowly, you might end up writing, “Help!” Whereas with your right hand you might say, “Today went well. I took out the garbage, I did the laundry, I did phone calls,” and then suddenly you say, “And I really miss him. I really, really miss him.” And then you think, Oh, I just got to the heart of it.

In the beginning of your career, you would write lyrics on the subway late at night. Where do you write your songs now?

Well, I probably have the lowest sleep drive of anyone I’ve ever met. I have zero desire to sleep. When I lived in the Bronx, we were about maybe a half mile from a D train stop. It was always running, and you could take it to Coney Island and back. I come from a town of 700 people, and I couldn’t believe that I had the opportunity, when I wasn’t tired, to take a long walk, get a decaf coffee and a banana, whatever I could afford on a college budget, and take that D train. Now there are so many fewer words that come to me when I’m alone. I seem to need to be sitting with someone. It’s a little frustrating, because for so many years I was rich with ideas. Now I need someone to force me into the studio. Ideas don’t even come to me in the car anymore, my favorite place.

One thing we share is a love for Old Hollywood. What is it about that era that inspires you?

Everything. When I was younger, my grandparents would let me watch their old movies, and I related to the subtle nuances of the female characters. Not much needed to be said; a lot was inferred between the lines. When things got bigger for me and my career, I always assumed that just by me speaking and being myself, people would know who I was inherently. I learned that was not true. You had to really spell things out, and that was very hard for me.

When are you happiest?

When I trust my gut and follow through. I’m happiest when I see my brother and sister thriving. One of my goals is to make sure that my siblings and I are always safe. I’m happiest around my three girlfriends, Candy, Jen, and Annie, because they make me feel understood. I’m happiest when I’m lying down in the park, and I look up and I think to myself, Isn’t it beautiful that just lying on the grass and feeling the support of the earth underneath me is enough for today? I spent so much time trying to ask myself, “Why me?” and “Why this?” It’s so nice to be over that. I also love to dance. Joan Baez has a dancing party every Saturday night on Zoom, which I’m so grateful to be invited to—there’s something beautiful about dancing with very down-to-earth people.

Which song makes you cry?

“Swan Song.” It’s on my album Honeymoon. It’s the antithesis of hopefulness. It’s about trying to find beauty in giving up. If I had my way, I would continue to persist in all areas of my life, but it can be quite challenging because I can be too trusting too soon. The burn that can come from that really can incinerate your whole thinking life and your daily processes. At the end of every album, I say goodbye and thank you—very Old Hollywood style—and yet I cannot help but just continue to write.

#lana del rey #elizabeth woolridge grant #w magazine #words

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psalacanthea · 7 months

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WiP Wednesday

Oops, it's late. Here's a tiny bit from the BG3 Early Access fic rewrite. 20 days till I update it!

...

Karlach turned to face her, clutching a teddy bear in both heavily-gloved hands. She looked embarrassed, but her voice when she spoke was subdued. “Just found this, and I was thinking ‘oh, cute’. It’s…” She held it out for examination, explaining needlessly, “It’s a bear toy. Then I thought about what we’d seen down there, and Mayrina’s baby and all…just hope that if a kid ever loved this, that they’re safe and sound.”

Malice and misfortune, talk about overly sentimental. Zyn stepped in with an understanding, but sad smile, taking the bear and looking it over. What would something sympathetic say? Ah!

“Well, hmm. You know, as a bard, if an object is part of a story, I can sense and ‘read’ that story,” she confided, lowering her voice.

Karlach scoffed. “Not really. Why’ve I never heard that before?”

“Well, most bards, actual bards and not minstrels, only know how to do it to magical items. Small minded. But I, on the other hand, understand that a good story can come from anywhere.” Zyn smiled at her, and then lifted the bear, giving it a very intent stare, silver-blue eyes boring into black buttons.

“This bear…this bear has been through a great tragedy,” she said, doing her best ‘mystical’ voice.

“Oh no,” Karlach sighed, as if she’d entirely bought Zyn’s little story.

“What sort of tragedy?” another voice popped up. Shadowheart. Forever nosy, wasn’t she?

Let's see...hmm.

“You see, when a toy is given to a child, it must be named. Naming a thing forges a bond between you and it, like the name of a legendary blade. Without it, the toy cannot bring true happiness, and will never fulfill its purpose. This bear was never named.” Zyn stared solemnly into Karlach’s beautiful topaz eyes, offering up the bear solemnly in both hands. “This bear must be named, and if he is, he will finally be able to fulfill his purpose: to bring comfort and joy to those around him.”

“That’s a big job,” Karlach said soberly, taking the bear from her.

“He can handle it, and so can you!” Zyn said, before being distracted by a bottle tucked between a basket and the wardrobe, half-underneath. “Ooh, is that a healing potion?”

Skittering off to grab it before someone else did, Zyn happily shoved it in her pack while down on her knees.

“Ridiculous story,” Shadowheart said, her words followed by the sound of receding footsteps.

Stifling a chuckle, Zyn brushed off the top of her head and rose. There were aches and weariness in places she hadn't anticipated. Luck's sake, today had been too much.

“That was cute,” Karlach chuckled, their eyes meeting as Zyn sat back on her heels and craned her head up.

Oh, this angle was…interesting.

Really made a girl feel small…

“Um…what?” Zyn asked, blinking a little and shaking her head.

“The story. I liked it. Thanks for making me feel better.” Karlach turned the bear over in her hand, staring at its face. “Kind of feel like I have to bring him along now, though.”

Zyn got to her feet before any more excessive lewd thoughts made her turn into a witless fool. “Well, why not. Even a bear can have an adventure, right?”

Karlach grinned, glancing at the bear again. She gently adjusted one of his black button eyes with two fingers. “I’ll call him Clive.”

#wip wednesday #Karlach #tav: Zynatheri Rivati

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babythegod · 6 months

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Remember when I was 16 and my cousins kept getting pregnant so you woke me up out of my sleep to accuse me of being with child, beat me with a broom then called the police on me &I wasn’t even sexually active. I had to cover my black eye with make-up during thanksgiving festivities or when we actually still lived with Monterra &you hit me with a pool stick before school (for getting “smart”) so I tried to stab a knife into my wrist vein (where my ankh tattoo is now because I was sick of looking at the scar) or when nobody gaf after lil bro busted my lip wide open cause I said he “acts like our dad” or when I lost my cat and you lied and told him I was trying to assault you so he came into my room and abused me as you watched proudly from the doorway. Fun times 😻

Kinda an excerpt : from my upcoming book :

The Calling.

“I still cry for that teenager that was left with an ultimatum that would unknowingly change the trajectory of her entire life and leave me scarred and traumatized for years. When I told my dad “NO!” I didn’t want to live with him as he threw my mom out of our family home , I didn’t realize at the time that I was choosing death. I meant NO ! I want all of this to end now. NO! can we fix it ? NO ! Let’s press rewind …My innocence was killed that night &I lost everything I ever knew to be true. I had always felt the absence of love but then safety vanished as well. No one ever asked me if I was ok . No one. Not once. I began to look for home in all the wrong people and places. Both of my parents swear they did “their best” with me but the way my brothers were and still are treated , I know that’s not valid. I was denied child support my entire teenage years while everyone else received lavish new clothing &designer shoes , I would get berated if I ever tried any piece of my moms wardrobe on. I remember hearing “YOUR DAD GIVES ME $600 A MONTH, ALL FOR FAT” an innumerable amount of times. So I would walk to this bootleg cd/dvd/ women’s apparel store called “Hot Girls” every single day after school begging the owner to let me work there. It’s lowkey so funny cause it was right across from the police station and he was pirating his ass off 😹😹😹 He finally agreed and I made $5 an hour , from 4-8 , when I got off the bus I would go straight there &all day Saturday. He was closed on Sundays. $70 -$120 cash under the table every week is what helped me survive. Now that I think back , Seven was really the only father figure I had as a teen. He was a skinny weird little dude from Hollygrove. We would always fuss cause I was a product of my circumstances and he was Dwayne PONCHO Eli, I still don’t really know why people called him Seven but he always told me “you’re not country like most Kenner people, you’re different 😹” I am so thankful for him because I could’ve got lost in the streets like most abandoned young ladies do. I worked there until I was 18 &was able to find real employment. “

The main reasons I can never bond with my father still to this day; 1. Our relationship was never fostered. 2. While working at my job I purchased a white pair of shorts , that were too tight and skimpy , I admit. But I just thought they were fly at the time. I couldn’t have imagined that Instead of buying your daughter new clothes you’d rather wish rape upon her , vocally in front of our entire family in my grandparents house. No one even batted an eye. No one addressed his cruelty. My dad must be a wizard because his evil wish eventually came true in 2015/2016, my senior year in college I was assaulted in my own apartment. I went into denial, dropped out with only 6 credits left. I honestly believe; Sire &the Holy Spirit saved my life. I would not know love if it wasn’t for Christ.

The things I am still struggling to forgive, but can never forget.

The hate u give little infants fucks everyone …

#had to get this off my chest #gonna leave this here #for awhile #&go do some healing #❤️‍🩹#I love you #mambo Marie #thank you #for choosing me #♥️

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wellpresseddaisy · 2 years

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The Poshest Bedstead in Islington

Part 7

The next morning, Sirius sat in the bright morning room munching toast and considering more bacon when Hedwig glided into the room and perched on the back of his chair. He handed bacon to her and accepted the letter from Harry in return. She turned her back so she could crunch down bacon without getting crumbs in his hair.

He still had to ask Kreacher to cut it for him.

"Aren't you just the prettiest girl with the best manners?" He cooed and handed up more bacon.

Sirius unfolded the letter, catching the smaller letter enclosed as it nearly slid out onto the floor. Harry's untidy scrawl greeted him.

Penmanship lessons, perhaps? He doubted anyone would think to teach the poor child how to use a quill. Or even, since he'd seen the current state of Hogwarts, to suggest a set of workbooks from Flourish and Blott's.

Dear Sirius,

Sirius winced. He'd been so addled just out of Azkaban he couldn't conceive of being uncle to anyone, but certainly not to a teenager. Perhaps it was time to introduce Uncle Sirius to Harry.

I hope you're okay. I hope you have somewhere safe to stay where you can eat normal things. I know you have Kreacher and I know he'll take good care of you. Just…please get well I hope you'll feel better soon.

I'm actually sending Hedwig to you. I hope that's alright. She's just so recognizable and I worry about her delivering everything for me or leading someone to you. I thought I might be able to ask Kreacher to take any letters when he comes. Or we could think of something else? I don't know as much as I should about this world.

Kreacher brought so many books that I'm sure I'll be an expert soon! It's never been so easy to finish my summer work before. The ingredients compendium for Potions made the essay question make so much more sense. Do you know why they don't suggest books like that for our courses? I finally understand things I never thought I would.

I enclosed a thank you note for Kreacher. I hope that's okay. My room is amazing! He gave me a space just for me. It's wonderful having a proper desk. I even tried the clothes on the wardrobe. I think I put everything on right since I used the book Kreacher brought. Is Aurelius Black one of your ancestors?

That's actually what I have a question about. I used one of the garter pairs in the wardrobe yesterday—the ones with Obedience on them—and every time I had a thought about an adult that wasn't very nice it felt like someone smacked me. I was working on my Potions essay and it was really not helping. If it is them, then I don't think I want to know what Modesty or Chastity would do.

(What would mixing a pair do? I know it isn't a good idea but now I sort of want to know.)

Do they all do that? Is it a magic thing? I know they used to give kids things like that to remind them of virtues, but the side effects seem a bit much. I haven't put them on again, if you're wondering. I just left the stockings off, to be honest. Is that scandalous? Aurelius Black seemed to think so. I can imagine Kreacher might be put out about it.

I hope I'll see you soon. I miss you.

Harry

Sirius blinked at the last two paragraphs. Surely he hadn't been such a sapskull as to leave those blasted things in the wardrobe? He and Kreacher between them had selected the clothing and decided on his own childhood wardrobe for Harry…and he hadn't checked the drawers thoroughly enough, it seemed.

"Kreacher!" He called. Once he'd been cleared, they needed a full staff. One poor elf couldn't run an entire household.

Kreacher popped into the room. "Your Grace?"

"Harry sent you a letter. He also tried the clothing. Did we leave those wretched garters in the drawers? The ones mother modified?" He handed the letter over and watched Kreacher clutch it to his chest. The question made Kreacher's ears stand straight up.

"Not the Child's Garters of Virtues. Oh, we couldn't be so thoughtless!"

"I think we might have been." Sirius bit his lip. It shouldn't be funny, not in the least. "He only wore Obedience for a little bit. I'll send him some unenchanted ones and see if I can't fix the others."

Kreacher's ears quivered. "Kreacher is…trying not to be amused. Kreacher will find and bring the plain garters and bring back the others."

"Why don't you go read your letter and have a little laugh." Sirius found his own mouth twitching. "It isn't disloyal to Harry, and he wasn't injured, just surprised. If you'd stop before you pop over, I'll have a letter to him explaining."

Kreacher had a surprising amount of sensitivity under his grouchy exterior. The elf clutched at his letter again and popped back out.

Poor Harry.

To be introduced to the insanity of the Black Family like that. Thankfully, he had sense enough to take them off. Such a wretched, wretched family he'd adopted the poor boy into.

Great Uncle Aurelius aside. And Uncle Alphard. And Grandfather. And Andromeda. He'd have to ask Andy if she wanted back in, but he wanted to see her in any case.

Sirius rose, knees shaking only slightly, and went to the escritoire near the bay window. Would a cane lend a dashing air to his outfits or would he just look gouty? He'd ask Kreacher.

And dash it all, he had to find Remus. If his list of things to do got any longer he wouldn't have time for anything even remotely entertaining. And he did so want to have time to do something diverting. Kreacher would likely find diversions to be too exciting. He'd nearly turfed out poor Molly when a bit of ton gossip had him laughing himself to hiccups.

Dear Harry,

I'm in a safe place with Kreacher looking after me. I hope to be able to bring you here very soon. I'd rather have you with me than off in Surrey. I'll make sure Hedwig is cared for, properly. She's perched on the back of my chair, preening my hair as I write. She really is a most remarkable owl.

Please do not put those garters on again, and DO NOT mix them. They were initially a gift from Great Uncle Aurelius—he was a great hand at embroidery—but my mother made modifications. I'm sending Kreacher with this letter and some plain garters for you. He'll take the others and we'll see if we can make them safe for you, if you'd like to keep them. Uncle Aurelius was a very good man and I think he'd like a gift he gave out of love to be passed on.

I'm so pleased you enjoyed everything and that you've tried the clothing. It's a stopgap wardrobe until I can get you to a tailor, but it should do. A number of the items were things I wore as a boy. I hope you don't mind that the outerwear isn't new (underwear and stockings are, though, so don't worry about that). Old families tend to keep anything that isn't worn to rags and pass it on until it is.

(I'll be sending you a few workbooks on penmanship and an embroidery kit. Don't bristle; we all of us have had to start somewhere. Kreacher showed me the first lines I ever wrote in cursive as he had them framed. I'll have to show you so you can have a laugh, too.)

I also want you to know that the Weasley family and Miss Granger will be moving in with me for the summer. We had some worrying intelligence come our way about plans for them and I was asked to provide a safehouse. The warding here is formidable and I'll be adding to it. I'll make sure they write you and that you're kept informed. I didn't want anything to be a surprise for you. If they don't write much for the next few days, please don't be angry with anyone. I think Dumbledore told them not to, for some ridiculous reason, most likely. I'll let them know they can send letters through me.

I'll have you here as soon as possible. In the meantime, study hard and read whatever Kreacher tells you to read. He'll be by a few times a day to make sure you're cared for properly.

I love you so much, Harry.

Uncle Sirius

#the poshest bedstead in islington #hp society/the ton #hp the season au #hp the season/the ton au #sirius black #sirius black is posher than god #yes a child's garters of virtues made me laugh really hard when i thought of it #poor harry

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loosesodamarble · 1 year

Text

I posted 2,901 times in 2022

That's 393 more posts than 2021!

373 posts created (13%)

2,528 posts reblogged (87%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@thoughtfullyrainynightmare

@loafingdragon

@marune2

@lolita-wardrobe

@loosesodamarble

I tagged 2,899 of my posts in 2022

#reblogged post - 2,338 posts

#black clover - 1,483 posts

#black clover fanart - 593 posts

#black clover oc - 531 posts

#nacht faust - 480 posts

#demon slayer - 399 posts

#kimetsu no yaiba - 383 posts

#kny - 380 posts

#laura the writing senpai - 326 posts

#morgen faust - 317 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#i will fly to japan and learn animation and join black clover’s animation team just to ensure my precious morgen gives off all the moe!/lh+j

My Top Posts in 2022:

“You’ve heard of ‘elf on a shelf’! Now prepare yourself for ‘elf in the self’!”

—William, before transferring control to Patry

86 notes - Posted March 6, 2022

Vetto: You humans stole our magic!

Fana: You stole our lives!

Rhya: And worse yet you stole our pronouns!

Yami: I'm sorry but what the hell are you talking about?

Patry: Where you do you think you got words like "mysELF," "hersELF," or "themsELVES"? From the elves!

Asta: Oh gods! Why is humanity so greedy?!

86 notes - Posted March 11, 2022

The Curse of the Four Leaf Clover

So one evening I was talking with my sister and friends. I don’t remember why exactly but my sister had brought up carrying around lucky charms. Among the lucky charms she brought up four-leaf clovers and I jokingly went “you probably shouldn’t.” I had kinda forgotten that no one besides me in the group was into Black Clover.

Either way, my sister asked why four-leaf clovers weren’t lucky. I quickly explained the lore of grimoires and clovers in BC then gave brief overviews of each wielder of a four-leaf grimoire.

Licht lost his entire tribe of people and had to turn himself into a giant demon to stop a devil from taking over his body. And when he’s resurrected, he has to fight the same devil.

Lumiere had to fight and kill his best friend (Licht). He probably didn’t know if his sister lived or died the day of that tragedy. Then his body turned to dust as he died.

Patry died as a child before he could get a grimoire and when he came back, it was all part of the devil’s plan. He got turned into a raging, mindless dark elf and permanently lost his grimoire.

Yuno lost his parents and kingdom as a baby. He grew up in poverty for most of his life. If Asta hadn’t come along, he would’ve had his grimoire stolen the day he got it. After becoming a Magic Knight, he’s bullied and harassed by his co-workers (Alecdora and Langris being the most prominent examples). Then when he learns of his royal origins, that same day his boss is kidnapped and half of his co-workers are killed.

And I didn’t bring this one up with my sister and friends but the elf soul that Yuno’s first grimoire actually belongs to is so unlucky that they didn’t even get out of the womb. Yikes.

Regardless, five-for-five, four-leaf grimoire wielders are met with misfortune.

But why would that be when four-leaf clovers are famous symbols of luck?

Well, maybe because Tabata is a Japanese man. Japanese and Western symbols of good luck aren’t the same. If you are the least bit familiar with Japanese language, homophones, and superstitions then you know where I’m going with this. In Japanese, the number “four” can be pronounced the same way as the word for “death.” Thus, four is unlucky.

Thus, we have our unlucky clovers.

I know what some people might be thinking. “But they’re all blessed by mana.” “Yuno is a prodigy.” “Patry was turned back to normal.”

Being blessed by mana didn’t make people agree with Licht and Lumiere’s vision of humans and elves living in harmony. The elves accepted Lumiere and Tetia but no other humans. They cursed the humans in their dying breaths.

Lumiere’s invention, which was meant to bring elven power and human ingenuity together, was used to massacre the elves. He watched his friend Secre curse herself with Weg to preserve his life.

Patry learned that he was being manipulated and that he hurt many innocents for nothing. He went against the beliefs of the one he admired for nothing. He believed he was meant for greatness because of his four-leaf but that was actually his downfall as his grimoire became Zagred’s five-leaf grimoire.

Yuno is put under so much pressure and is always on his own. He alone was the “hope of the church.” He was entrusted with responsibility even when Asta proclaimed his desire to help. Mimosa and Klaus are with him often but it always feels like they’re associating with him because they’re Asta’s friends, not Yuno’s. He was the only person able to solo a Dark Disciple and face Zenon for even a moment. And in the final battle against Zenon, Finral and Langris couldn’t be there to support him and Yuno had to face Zenon alone. No, the elf soul and Bell do not count because, let’s be real, both are little more than talking power-ups. All the pressure on Yuno is patially due to being “blessed” with the four-leaf grimoire.

Yuno being a prodigy, being vice captain at 17, and getting two grimoires are snazzy things but I chalk that up to him being Tabata’s most special and favorite child more than anything else./hj

When you really look at Licht, Lumiere, Patry, and Yuno, their lives are unfortunate. Triumphant moments and incredible power do not make up for the more personal misfortunes in their lives.

All of them had high expectations put upon them and all of them have been met with tragedy and failure. Patry and Yuno are alive and able to fight for a happy end but they’re in no way blessed. None of them are.

The four-leaf grimoire is not an omen of luck. It is an omen of death and despair for those who have one.

126 notes - Posted February 27, 2022

Dark Secrets

Scenarios wherein some of the Black Clover men reveal a dark secret to you and you let them know that you won't go anywhere because of it.

Characters: Julius Novachrono, William Vangeance, Nozel Silva, Morgen Faust, Nacht Faust

Genre: general, slight hurt/comfort

..........

Julius Novachrono

"It's of the utmost importance that you know."

Julius said that to you the day before he brought you out to one of the forests in the Forsaken Realm.

You are filled with concern and fear. You repeatedly ask for clarification but are only told that it's about his job. Is he going to take on a difficult mission? Is there some kind of threat made against him?

Then, Julius comes to a stop. On the ground in front of you, largely hidden by overgrowth, is a giant sphere bearing the same symbol that Julius had tattooed on his forehead.

"This magic tool stores mana to be used later," Julius begins to explain. "I discovered that it was compatible with my Time Magic and made use of that fact." Julius looks at you, his expression somber yet also apologetic. "This invention here is my contingency in case of a worst case scenario. But even if it does bring me back, I may not be at full power."

Julius takes you by the hand and squeezes it.

"I want to continue working as a Magic Knight and eventually become Wizard King. I want to shape a brighter future. But if I have to use this..."

There is a pain in your chest. Julius is far too giving for his own good. He already knows the risk of the job and even expects to die if his contingency is anything to go off of. Despite your worry, you squeeze Julius' hand and smile at him.

"Don't worry. I'll be with you no matter what. We're in this together."

The fear that you would run at the slightest hint of risk was washed away from Julius' mind. He leaned in and thanked you with a tender kiss, more in love with you than before.

"I keep forgetting that half my strength is with you," Julius remarked as you two pull away from the the kiss. "Thank you for always being with me."

"You're always welcome," you replied.

.....

William Vangeance

"My dear, I would like to court you." William's words would've made your heart leap. Yet there was an anxious look in his eyes and his lips were pulled in a thin line. "But I don't believe it would be right to do so until you know."

"Know what?" you asked hesitantly.

William smiled sadly at you. He touched his mask. Without any words, you understood. You had suspected for a while that the mask was more than a fashion statement.

The room was painfully silent. The sound of William's footsteps. The door's lock clicking into place.

When William was in front of you again, your eyes met. His fear was palpable. Then, he removed his mask and you saw him, the real him. There were no words for it, how painful and twisted his curse looked. Slowly, you touched the edge of the mark which made William flinch the slightest bit.

"I've had this my whole life and may have it the rest of my days. I've had suitors turn me down just hearing I was cursed," William said, tears coming to his eyes.

"Will... This is..." As you struggled to get your words out, you saw him bite his lip and the tears fall. "Not going to change anything." You cupped his face and make him look at you. "I fell in love with a kind man, not a pretty face. Besides, the mark kind of matches your eyes." You and William laugh a bit at your remark.

More tears fell from William's eyes but were accompanied by a bright grin. The shadows in his heart may not have left entirely, but you would help keep them at bay. The hope that you loved him now became assurance that you did.

You pressed a kiss to the corner of his eye. The skin looked blemished but it was soft against your own. Neither you nor William had nothing to fear. This secret would not break you two, but make your love stronger.

"Would you really marry if I asked?" William asked, his whole form still shaking. "Even with this?"

See the full post

277 notes - Posted March 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Meta OC Questions

Once upon a time, I posted a series of questions asking about thematic/symbolic elements in relation to ocs.

Well now I've decided to create a new set of oc questions, this time touching upon meta elements of them as well as how they interact with the world they're placed in.

I'm mostly aiming these questions at fandom ocs (which is more obvious in some later questions) but these could also apply to wholly original characters.

..........

What inspired you to create your oc?

Why does your oc look the way they do? What are your reasons for their appearance?

What is the origin of the character's name?

Why did you give them the name they have? What is the in-universe reason for their name?

What kind of abilities and power level does your oc have? Why did you give them their powers? What's the in-universe reason?

What are the weaknesses in their power? Why did you give them their weaknesses? What's the in-universe reason?

Does your oc have any notable skills or good personality traits? Why did you give them those traits? Why do they exist in-universe?

Does your oc have any notable flaws or activities they're not good at? Why did you give them those flaws? Why do they exist in-universe?

In a group dynamic, what kind of role does the oc usually fill? Are they a worry wart? A troublemaker? The straight man?

What is your favorite trait regarding your oc?

What is your least favorite trait regarding your oc?

Which canon characters (if any) do the oc have good relationships with? Why those characters?

Which canon characters (if any) do the oc have bad relationships with? Why those characters?

Did you give your oc a love interest? Is it another oc or a canon character? Why?

How does your oc interact with the canon narrative? What about it do they change?

What aspect(s) of the universe's lore are they connected to? Do they change/add lore to the universe?

List/describe up to five tropes that apply to your oc. They could be related to the oc's characterization or their narrative arc.

Imagine meeting your oc. What would you want to say to them or do with them?

How might your oc react to finding out you are the one responsible for their life?

Share a random piece of trivia about the creation of your oc. Examples: scrapped ideas or changes you didn't expect to make.

458 notes - Posted July 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #soda asides #a-am i egotistical if i reblogged myself a lot?/lh+j #also i really like dresses... lolita dresses specifically #OH THANK GOODNESS MY TOP POST THIS YEAR IS SOMETHING RESPECTABLE!

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theprincessaurora · 2 years

Note

I saw your ask about your favorite Aurora ships and I have to say that Aurora/Gaston intrigues me greatly. When do you start shipping them and how do you see them working? I ask because Gaston is the villain in his film, but I always had a soft spot for villain/hero ships when done right and I'll love to hear your thoughts on it because it really caught my attention!

I'm so pleased you became interested in their pairing! So, I would like to preface this by saying that I came up with this ship when I was five- it was literally my first non-canonical ship ever- so for as flawed as it should've been upon concept, they actually work together quite beautifully?

So, when I had watched Beauty and the Beast at five, I never connected with Belle but I adored Gaston. I loved his flamboyancy and his firmness and commitment- normally we see men who don't want to get married, not the other way around. He also wanted children- six or seven or eight of them, at that! I'm a pretty extreme person, I love when someone is entirely one way or the other, and the grays in life- be it personality types or stylistically mundane elements or an argument lacking in conviction- never appealed to me. Gaston really has the intensity of life in such an alive way, that really spoke to me at that age. I would always play around with the dolls I had of him and Aurora the most, and it just seemed to work? He is a hunter after all, so his discovery of her wouldn't be that off from how Phillip sees her. Also, as I mentioned he's a hunter and is always after the chase, and Aurora doesn't fold easily. Plus, he is intrigued by Belle's beauty and Aurora was literally gifted with the supernatural gift of beauty and song. With their looks especially, they tend to mesh- the red of Gaston's cape and the blacks of his wardrobe so remind me of Aurora's dream prince. Also, I think Aurora is a beautiful personification of femininity and I think Gaston's masculinity would bloom in a healthy way alongside hers. Think of the soaring soprano of Aurora’s voice and the supported baritone of Gaston’s. I always listen to I Bring You a Song and think of them singing it to one another!

From a personality standpoint, they also appeal to me. As I mentioned, Gaston is the villain of his film, but he's easily influenced. Aurora's such a strong personality, and she wouldn't tolerate his poor behavior, so I think he'd course correct and allow her to have an upper hand in a way because he's scared of losing her. They both are dreamers and love the idea of love! Also I love how overwhelmingly masculine he is for her, and inherently primal he can be in a sensual sense, because as I mentioned Aurora is quite feminine, but she also spent her entire life with three elderly fairies who never had a thought about romance one way or another while Aurora dreams of a Prince, and kissing that prince, and all the butterflies that come about with love. So to meet a man for the first time, and for that man to be dripping with all the dreams you had of how men are and to be so physically competent and lively and virile! UGH.

Also, I think they would be able to help one another in a very cute way. Aurora is so strong in her decision making, but she suffers from fearing to disappoint anyone. Gaston would be able to play "bad cop" and take the blame for her if she didn't want to do something or see someone, and he'd do it in such a charming way that I doubt anyone's feelings would be hurt at the end of the day. When it comes to Gaston, he can resort to aggression when upset, and Aurora doesn't do conflict. As someone who grew up as an only child with very gentle fairies, she doesn't engage in heated interactions, she simply walks away from something if she doesn't like it which would help Gaston dial t in and be less combative.

One of the strongest elements I think is most appealing, though is the fact that, of all the princesses, I think Aurora is the most effective in her communicating. Whether it's speaking, singing, dancing, crying- she communicates incredibly well. With Gaston/Belle, I think a lot of times she insulted him in ways he didn't understand and instead of it being a serve, it just perplexed him. I think Aurora would appreciate Gaston for who he is, but she would also be able to speak to him and communicate with him in a way he would receive. Also, just look at them together!!!

#* / DUTIES #ask #anonymous #gaston #also endless aus for them!#gaston being one of the huntsmen for aurora's kingdom #gaston being hired by king stefan and queen hazel to bring aurora home on the eve of her bday #gaston bumping into aurora when he's hunting in the forest #like SO many #them having a cottage in the woods together <333

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