#(that's not a metaphor or anything just that it's clearly snowing there at all times so they'd have to import wine so it'd be expensive)

[nostalgia-tblr]

Oh hey, a second chapter! This is the one where they get married. Yep, jumping straight to the legal nuptials here. Efficient! It's still not actually E-rated yet, that'll be the next update (because Wedding Night).

Title: The Winter Of Our Discontent (Chapter 2/?) (AO3) Fandom: MCU Rating: Explicit Pairing: Loki/Sylvie Wordcount: ~1700 for this chapter Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Canon Divergence - Thor (2011), Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Blood and Violence, Sexism, Weddings, Other Additional Tags to Be Added Chapter Summary/Extract: “The last time I saw you, you were blue from head to toe and murdering my brother.”

[hwaightme]

The meaning of 'Jeong'

☔ pairing: yunho x f!reader ☔ genre: comfort, fluff, angst ☔ summary: jeong (정/情) - the intimate and warm feeling, the closeness and affection arising from one's relationship with another person. ☔ wordcount: 5.8k ☔ warnings/tags: stress, a lot of work stress, burnout, disregard for own health, language, a little arguing, yunho driving, yunho singing, business, office, implied office disrespect, no need for words when yunho knows, knight in a shining automobile, snow and rain, on the verge of a breakdown, starry night, unedited, lmk if anything else~ ☔ taglist: @doom-fics @legohwa @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven ☔ network tags: @k-labels @ateezlovenet @kflixnet ☔ a/n: hello there, sometimes we are in need of some yunfort~ warmest hugs, and much love! All reblogs, comments, thoughts, notes appreciated~ Thank you so much Sky for ideating with me, inspiring me, and fueling first my San, and then my Yunho brainrots <3 would not have happened without you~

It seemed that no matter what you did, everything served to further agitate you - another penny in the bottle of emotions that was threatening to overflow if you as much as hinted at your utter exhaustion. With all your might you wanted to convince yourself that this was temporary, you were trying your best and that no matter what happened, it all would end up being for the better. But sometimes, too much was just what it was. Too much.

Your troubles had wounded themselves tightly into an impossible knot, weighing you down until you were in a hopeless crawl, barely sentient and resorting to existing on autopilot just so you could avoid tearing up in a public place. You were not about to give your colleagues the sadistic satisfaction. With hefty heaps of sarcasm and barely concealed impatience, you waded through meeting after meeting, discussing projects that had backlogs larger than your anger. Somehow, as the day progressed, what you had already deemed to be a ‘not so good day’ had managed to one, two, triple-up itself.

First, you were notified, twenty minutes before the official launch of a function update in an internal, company-wide application, that there was a severe bug found, and the release would have to be delayed until further notice. Nothing new for a product manager to hear, but considering that you had just spent two hours in a metaphorical grill with your own senior manager, as well as the director of the department, you were not about to ‘not take things to heart’. The pressure only built as you were pinging person after person, with your dual monitor glowing from all the messaging windows, fighting against the torrent of your subordinates’ uncontrollable procrastination, all an attempt to reconfigure task assignment to fit in the same sprint. You cursed the ‘agile’ framework time and time again as you upped the severity on at least seven story points for your team, and hesitantly, transferred a hefty number to yourself.

This was a never-ending cycle. One which you would never break no matter how hard you tried. Such was your job; at least that was the excuse you gave it, since the monetary compensation was good enough to be motivated to put up with was clearly draining. In calls from early morning until late in the evening. Constantly juggling everyone’s workload and having to keep your finger on the professional pulses of at least fifty people, globally. You were no stranger to having meetings at awkward hours of the day, either. As you watched your colleagues beginning to pack up and leave for home, chatting away about their families, or about some new restaurant that opened in the area, or about some sports game, you realised you were completely deflated. Looking at your calendar, there was only one meeting – with partners in the US, to go, but it felt like an impossibly daunting task. Exhaustion was weighing heavy on your eyes and tension in your neck made it impossible to sit comfortably. But you still did it. Still sat there, in your office chair, accompanied by the squadron of chronic overtime workers whose heads were dotted across the floor as far as your eye could see, and pretended like it was not nearing nine o’clock at night.

You had promised your boyfriend that you would stop drinking coffee at weird hours, him having been horrified at how you could handle the bitter beverage, while you would pretend you did not see him sneak sweetener into his mocha. But with both of you getting busier and busier, and with you additionally trying to drown out the noise that came with not seeing him as much as you would have wanted, you slipped into your routinely coffee machine visits. The rumble of the artificial barista as it brewed up your only source of energy was soothing – the one sound in the workplace that did not pose a threat to your mental health, nor to your growing headache. Every sip was a temporary lull in an otherwise chaotic corporate fiasco you had found yourself in. Oh, how you wished you could tap out; this was your only conclusion to the dull, monotonous interlocution where not once, but twice did one of your co-workers abroad show their complete ineptitude in all things technology related by failing to share screen and check chat.

As you bid farewell to the last of the officemates who you agreed to mutual acknowledgement with, you leaned back in your chair and sighed. With the pitch black night outside, the artificial fluorescence that illuminated your pallid, tired skin appeared to be stronger, drying your eyes. If you were to stay frozen for a while, they would turn off until the next sudden movement, and maybe you could catch up on a much needed nap, cutting your sleep debt by at least a few minutes. But at the same time, could you afford those few minutes? When you were left alone with your mind, the notion of productivity and achievement became skewed, and what you would previously deem to be okay, or good enough, easily moving on to the next task, now metamorphosed – daunting, demanding monsters that haunted you, highlighting their inexistent faults in a dark crimson, covering your vision. If there was free time, that was time that could be spent working, perfecting, editing. And if it was not spent in that way, it was time wasted. Simple as that. Inadvertently, you became a lethal collaborator of the very cycle you dreaded waking up for the last couple of weeks, and were now in the process of breaking it, twisting it into a downwards spiral. You were aware of this, and yet, you remained passive, dismissing all alarm bells as overdramatization. The increase in cooling coals in your ambitious fire did not phase you, for you decided you had more important things to focus on. Like staring at your emails, unable to conjure a single coherent thought.

The words were swimming in front of you, the caffeine no longer doing anything to serve you. All that was left was the chocolatey aftertaste – you had your coffee snob colleagues to thank for campaigning for having proper beans be ordered, so everyone could travel to faraway places at least through the notes the beverage had, the harvest, taste the sun that blazed down on the rolling hills proudly bearing the farmlands. Only the memory of the dark roast sticking to the roof of your mouth, an unpleasant dryness settling along with the realisation that there was no chance you would be making any more progress. You heaved another displeased sigh, and after rolling your shoulders a couple of times, pressed on the power button, seeing how your distorted reflection appeared before you as the screens went black.

It was easy to imagine ghosts waving you goodbye, as the click-clack of your heels resonated through the main reception on the ground floor of the skyscraper where you were one of the many ants. A lonely security guard stationed by the turnstiles nodded you his farewell, hearing the beep of your id card being accepted. You nodded back. He was one of the more approachable-looking guardians of the money-making machine, you had seen him shake a joke with his fellow suited-up brethren a total of two times and you were not about to discourage yourself with the accompanying thought that you had been working in the company for just over a year now. You have not had the share of your favourite megawatt grins that would have dispelled your grim disposition, so every bit of negativity had to be treated with caution. You were a ballistic missile being transported in a rickety mule-drawn cart with one wheel falling off. Bit by bit. Step by step. You just needed an uneventful commute home, so you could collapse into your bed and forget about today, until tomorrow would inevitably remind you, and so the loop would start again.

But there it was. The cherry on top of the disgusting cake. Of course, the weather had to fit the atrocious mood. Even though your calendar explicitly stated spring, and you had been more than excited to welcome the longer days and the blooming trees and bushes, the temperamental elements were bestowed upon you as what could only be an evil prank. A cocktail of clumped up snowflakes and icy cold rain beating down on the side walk, the light emanating from a nearby streetlight gaining the appearance of static due to the rapidly cutting streaks. You cursed under your breath, already saying goodbye to your felt trench coat and blaming yourself for being too optimistic and not metaphorically gluing an umbrella to your hand. It was difficult to hold the tears that began to well up and inevitably blur your vision, turning the puddles and buildings into an urban soup. You had always wanted to see yourself as strong, or at least strong enough to be able to sustain yourself and be proud of your perseverance. But as you stood there, a stride away from being soaked by the downpour, you were trying to accept that you were fated to be ‘that one passenger’ on the metro, wavelengths of stress and misery vibrating out of you. The passenger who would have everyone sitting as far as possible and obviously concerned. You looked down, watching a stray shiny wrapper float down to the curb on a stream of water, stopping once it reached the sewage drain and the holes ended up being too small. Your hands clenched into weak fists, and you trembled, the nervous lump in your throat becoming painfully noticeable and spurring on a growing flood of apprehension. Under the stormy night sky you were so small. A tiny dot that would not leave as much as a footprint, insignificant against the menacing, ceaselessly falling drops of water, like a barrage of nature’s heavy artillery. As you were about you turn up the collar of your coat in attempt to do something, anything to protect you against the rain that you were about to step into, a voice called out, in part muted by the battering of concrete, but you would still recognise it anywhere.

“Would be cool if you could answer your phone sometimes.” Your head turned sharply to the right, in the direction from which you heard the sweet, deeper set tone.

Face slightly obscured by the edge of the huge umbrella that was loyally protecting him, there, approaching you, ambled the man who you would not dare expect to spontaneously visit you. Sure, you had your share of fantasies about how it would be like to have your boyfriend pick you up from work, or to meet up for lunch together, but both you and Yunho had phenomenally chaotic work schedules, and even calls lasting for longer than five minutes had to be planned well in advance. And while you were over the moon when you could spend time with him, the recent scarcity had led into a mounting pressure for you, to maintain a lighthearted disposition, to not let your troubles interfere with him and his life outside of a busy, demanding career. While that could have been your pride talking since such an approach took courage, your comfort was not at the forefront of your mind when you chose to not tell the full story to Yunho, when you faked a smile and covered the bags under your eyes.

"You know I can't use my phone in the office." You huffed, stuffing your hands into your pockets and feeling for the device, which you preferred to keep on do not disturb unless you knew someone was meant to be contacting you.

"Well, you are not in the office anymore, Y/N. But it’s alright, I completely get you. It’s late enough for you to not even bother with it until tomorrow, honestly." Your boyfriend shrugged his shoulders, and as he joined you under the roofing that protected the entrance from the mid-March cries of winter, he lowered and folded the black umbrella, revealing himself entirely to the streetlamp, and dim light emanating from the glass that guarded the reception area. You took in his divinely sculpted form, his smiling eyes and lips, and, in shock, realised that it had been far too long since you had seen this wondrous man in person.

He was dressed as though he had just stepped out of the dance studio, which, knowing Yunho, he very much might have. A beige hoodie, black tracksuit bottoms and some dual-toned sneakers to tie everything together he looked dangerously cuddly, which only further agitated you. Why did he have to come here without warning? Why did your ray of sunshine have to show up when you were nothing but a seething, thunderous raincloud?

"Thanks, Yun. But how and why are you here, exactly?" you did not mean to sound irritated, but your spent nerves were getting the best of you and took control of your speech. Yunho quirked an eyebrow but dismissed his perplexity in favour of lightening the atmosphere and cheering you up.

"My spidey senses told me you might need a knight in a shining automobile. And judging by how you don't have an umbrella, I think I'm right."

It was much more than just the lack of an umbrella; at your happiest, you were the type of person who would sing in the rain. It was the awkward hours at which you responded to his texts, the evident struggle you went through to keep your eyes open whenever you two would video call after work, but most of all it was how you so obviously held information back from Yunho that prompted him to approach his manager and carve out the time he otherwise would not have. If there was anything he learned over the half a year, and counting, of your relationship, was that you were a fighter, much like him - an energiser to a fault. You would give, give and give some more until there was nothing left for you, and then would lead yourself into the illusion that you were just being lazy when you were actually falling apart. You were putting on a brave, calm and collected face, and your hesitation to drop the mask in front of him was unnerving. If there was anyone in your present life who should be your pillar of support, a person you could trust, depend on, lean on be it emotionally or physically, it should be him. In Yunho's eyes, work and some pre-determined timetable was always adjustable when a loved one was in trouble, and hell, you were of the same opinion: when it came to racing across the city in the middle of the night just because he hinted at the fact that he had sustained an injury, you would stop the universe. So why did you not consider the basic healthy principle as something that was not applicable to you?

"But aren't you busy?" your inquiry sounded rhetorical. As though you had already formulated an answer for yourself and were unwilling to accept any other. To be frank, yes, Yunho was busy. So were you. Such was life. However, this element of your lives did not define you, nor did it imply having to take a secondary position in another’s life. Yunho shook his head, stepping closer to you until your arms were almost brushing.

There was a melancholic air to you. Days passing in minor chords, accumulating into a tune, then a song, then a symphony. Your sonata filled with dreams falling flat, and sharp comments forcing you to adjust your dynamics and rhythm. Yunho had fallen in love with the beautiful music of your heart – a beacon of kindness, selflessness and positivity, you had always been the first to encourage him, sometimes messaging or calling him before his members even had a chance to turn in his direction to wish him luck. An innate, deeper sense of what was around you, Yunho noticed time and time again how you elegantly navigated social landscapes, reading people, places and striving to simply do what was best for the situation you faced. You were one to intuitively know something was going on before it could even have the chance to consciously register.

But that also made you prone to wearing yourself out. Sacrificing yourself for those who did not deserve it, and not leaving enough to perform even the most basic human functions. Your boyfriend was always in awe of you, and how you could possibly have so much love contained in your body. As he gazed at your form while you rocked back and forth on your feet – a habitual action that he had realised was one of the most telling signs for your worry bubbling over, the strong urge to erase whatever parasitic dissonance was taking up space in your magnificent mind grew and grew until he could not resist to take your hand in his, smiling when he noticed your lips curl into the ghost of a smile as your fingers intertwined.

"Not busy to love you. No come on, let's get you home, you spent enough time in the glass box as is." He tugged on your hand, ready to open the umbrella again to lead you to the car he had parked around the corner, but you would not budge.

"I swear you had prac-"

"I am here. Okay? Here, now." He desperately wanted to bring you back into the present. What was outside of your control, and was not your decision to make should not preoccupy you, and yet if you caught onto as much as a hint of being the source of inconvenience for another, it sent you into a grim spiral. Not this time, Yunho was not going to let you keep doing this to yourself, even if it took a lifetime.

"It must have taken you so long to get here I-" your voice was growing quieter and quieter as you focused on the sensation of Yunho’s warm hand pressed against yours.

You had not realised how much you missed the feeling, and the reassurance that came with it. He was here, indeed. He was here with you. He was there for you. You raised your head as soon as he squeezed your hand a couple of times but struggled to maintain eye contact due to the evident concern written in his glimmering orbs. The tender, compassionate eyes, irises a dark mahogany hue, a safe haven in your hardship. You wished you could fall into those pools and drift into the blissful serenity they offered. At the same time, it was terrifying how he was peering right into your soul, making it seem as if your vulnerabilities were right there, on display, just for him. A shiver ran down your spine despite the layers you were wearing.

"If you checked your phone, you would now that my schedule changed." He commented, gleaming.

"Oh, so you are saying I'm wrong for worrying now?" you tried to pry yourself away, but Yunho strengthened his grip. He was not about to let you float into that headspace again.

"I don’t mean to make you angry here, just pointing a thing out." Voice level, the dulcet timbre silently posed a question to you – what was the rush? Why were you trying to run from affection?

"I am not angry! Just why is it that out of the blue you decide to appear? I would have been fine-"

"What, have other plans?"

"Uh, no? Going home?"

"So, what is there to stop me from popping by to see my girlfriend?” he pursed his lips, pulling you towards him so that you were facing him directly. Spontaneously interested in everything but his piercing scrutiny, you took to studying the white drawstrings of his hoodie.

"But… uh… well… There is like, a lot happening right now, isn’t there? For both of us? I mean… you have all that filming to do, the comeback to prepare for… you literally just came back from tour and…” you caught yourself rambling, and trailed off into the sound of rainfall.

"Hm. Figured."

Yunho nodded to himself, clicking the tip of his umbrella against the ground as though dotting a full stop on a page. Confused, you attempted to prompt him for an elaboration.

"Excuse me?"

"That you are burned out."

The phrase was a scalding hot iron thrown at the barriers you had painstakingly been building around your mind palace. You knew that it was true. Hell, if someone had just asked you to speak the truth about what you were feeling, this was the first thing that would come to mind, but were you going to say it? No. Never. What you were feeling and what influenced you was nobody else’s problem.

"Am not." It was childish, but it was the only response you could conjure without making tears well up in your eyes. Yunho was too close, too attentive, too much for your distressed and hurt heart.

"Are too."

"Look I am fine. There is nothing-” you peered at the darkness on the other side of the street. Tuned into the rustling of the trees that lined it, and wished for yourself to become part of the scenery instead of having to confront what Yunho was trying to get you to admit.

“You said there is a lot happening for both of us, and then you just list things off about me,” he was not going to let you go this easily, both in discussion and physically as he removed his hand from yours and instead placed it on your waist, “I am perfectly aware of them. I know my limits, and I know that I am managing fine only because I am honoured to have so many people supporting me. And now, I want one of these people to tell me what this ‘a lot’ means to them, and why they are now looking in the other direction.”

Your head snapped back to Yunho, revealing your misty-eyed state. Immediately, his expression softened, and he pulled you in, keeping you flush against his chest as he absent-mindedly rubbed your back with his thumb, while his other hand was keeping the wet umbrella a safe distance away from your clothing. You bit your lip as you took in Yunho’s comforting scent. He never wore any particular perfume, instead opting to smell like a mixture of fresh laundry and a miniscule hint of soap. And yet, if you could bottle this and keep it, you would in a heartbeat. To you, this was what the aroma of home, of safety was. If he wished to make you unravel your ball of troubles, this was the way to do it, you confirmed as you felt yourself automatically melt into his touch, blinking away tears that you were tired of holding. Not exactly aligned with your scheduled ‘half an hour of breaking down when you get to your apartment’, but who were you to complain about Yunho staying here with you, in the cold, adamant on defeating your inner voice that otherwise would have led you into a further darkness.  

"Let's continue this in the car, yeah?" His voice wavered, dropping into the softest whisper which jolted you out of your guards entirely, and you let yourself be guided by him to his car.

As you ambled, side by side, you were enveloped in a total silence, the raindrops forming an abstract beat on the umbrella above you. Arm around you, fingers landing just under your shoulder, Yunho was afraid of letting you go even for an instant, the fragility in your steps and fumbling for a response as he asked if his hold felt alright for you exposing your inner dejection. And once he had you and him settled in the front and driver’s seats respectively, he put the key into ignition, but did not turn it just yet. As the rain painted a blurry masterpiece on the windshield, he tilted his head, and looked at you.

“Tell me about your day.” A simple ask, but to you it felt like one of those unsolvable mathematics problems. You could lie, and on any other occasion you probably would with a classic ‘I’m fine thank you and you’, but you would be foolish to think that Yunho would buy that. If anything, he would explicitly label the nonsense for what it was and encourage you to give him a real answer with nothing but those gorgeous, hopeful eyes of his.

“It was… you know what, it was a lot. Too much even. Really, the last couple of weeks have been too much.” You uttered, annoyance starting to boil within you as you recalled the rollercoaster of events.

“Tell me.”

“I don’t want to weigh you don’t with it. Really, this is nothing. It will pass.” You fiddled with the buttons on the blazer, now within reach as you had unzipped your coat. Though your words were grammatically correct, nothing made sense to you. What was it that you were saying? Learned phrased out of the automatic deflection compartment, lines of defence in an effort to avoid discussion.

“Then why are you giving it so much power?” Yunho persisted.

“Uh… I don’t know, maybe because it is my job?”

“So, you get paid to have burn outs?” while he asked this in a joking manner, his smile did not spread past a brief flash. When you did not send a retort in his direction, he motioned for you to continue. You hated to admit it, but you agreed. As of late, this was exactly what your job had turned into. You being a hamster stuck in a wheel, running ceaselessly with no rest breaks in sight. Running in the hopes of there being a finish line. A success. A milestone. But all there seemed to be was more paperwork, more reporting, more meetings, more conflict, and more doubt.

“Well, now that you say that…”

“I am not one to judge professional choices and perfectionism. In fact, I respect you so much for being so dedicated, and being such a hard worker. But a siren is going off right now, okay? You are on the edge of a cliff, and we do not want you to fall off it, yeah?”

“What cliff?”

“I am an idiot for not picking up on this sooner, but now that I have, I must tell you: you are being pushed way past your limit, and you need a break. It is basically doctor’s orders.”

“But it’s just wo-”

“Tell me, what was the last thing one of your colleagues had said to you? About your work?” Yunho was no stranger to office gossip, through you having occasionally divulged to him the drama occurring in your workplace, and through the myriad of dramas he had watched with you and noticed that you often reacted to what was happening on screen as if it hit very close to home.

“Uhm… but it was not a nice thing so…”

“Say it.” Interest turned into a demand, and Yunho leaned closer to you.

“I only overheard it…”

“And? You still heard it.” Dropping his voice low, he rejected your subconscious devaluing of what had obviously been harm incurred.

“That I was trying too hard to please my boss…” a mumble escaped you, followed by a ragged sigh. Why was this so hard?

“That is fucked up.”

“…even though I was literally just doing my job. I was asked to do this report and all there was that was extra to it was me wanting to make it look pretty.” While you were not saying anything particularly heart-breaking, at least not by your definition, you choked up and had to force each word out with the strength you had left.

“I swear, humans are strange creatures,” Yunho mused out loud before chuckling, “says I, a human.”

“But that’s exactly why you can say it. And besides, you are a thoughtful human. Pretty much a blessing, Yunho. So don’t even.” Finally, a genuine grin graced your features, reminiscent of the first rays of sunlight after a merciless storm. Basking in the glow, Yunho returned it twofold and proudly wore the blush that started to rise on his cheeks. But he knew better than abandoning his mission so early on.

“Not to be cringe or anything, but to hear that coming from an angel is quite the honour.” He wiggled his eyebrows as you laughed airily. But the moment, unfortunately, did not last long, and your day was once more overcast by rumination. Yunho did not speak, waiting for you to give him as much detail as you felt comfortable with sharing.

“Sometimes, even if I am trying my hardest, I get this sense that I might be better off shutting up and giving the others the reins.”

“So, they are disrespecting their own manager?”

“I guess it's because I am younger than them or something. I mean, I get it, it is a gnarly economic period for the company, and everyone is losing their marbles, trying to stay above the water, but it would be good if they at least took my advice into consideration.”

If looks could destroy, then the glare that Yunho sent your office building would have set it ablaze. To curb his anger, he drummed out an abstract pattern on the steering wheel, though the grip that followed it told all. He blamed himself for not having been there sooner. For letting this pain pile on until it turned to a ball and chain that progressively set out to ruin what had been your dream career. If only it was as easy to wipe away cutting words and agonising actions like faint graphite etchings on a piece of paper.

“They should know their place, that’s what," he hissed, giving the wheel one final thump before pushing himself into his seat and turning to you, "You are being too soft on them, in my opinion. And that is why they are acting out. Promise me this, you will show them that you are a frontline manager, and you are more than capable of keeping things under control-”

“I’m trying-”

“-by taking a break. People can sense weakness, especially people who are not so kind to you. And while I cannot fix their attitude, I can try my best to help you. And before you say it, you are not coming into the office on the weekend, I am booking you up.”

"How do you know I do that?"

"Over the months of video calls you really think I did not memorise that one conference room you use to call me?" He shot back, smirking as you were at a loss, the only option being to roll your eyes and give yourself up to a legally mandated holiday.

“Yunho, you are too selfless, please, I just need a couple more hours of sleep and I’ll be all sorted."

“No, I will be selfish and take care of you. So, sit back, relax, and think of happy things. And that’s an order.”

“But that is not how selfish works?”

“It does in our world. Besides, don't you want to show them who is the boss?" The cheeky boyish grin won you over, and you beamed, whispering an amused:

"Unbelievable..."

Falling in love with Yunho did not give you butterflies in your stomach. If anything, it calmed the anxious knots that accumulated over however long the time between you being in each other's presence was. Sure, you would be okay without one another. Living life, achieving what you wanted to achieve. Brought down by the gloomy days but rising again. But together, those days were just so much less gloomy. The, what could only be described as innate, trust that you had formed in one another, was the invisible string tying you together in the gift that was your present. Falling and being in love with Yunho was like a warm day in the spring, a promise for new life, for blue skies and for a warm breeze caressing the blossoms of affection. It was like the starry night sky in the early summer, with you and him sitting on the rooftop of the apartment building where you lived, on an old bed sheet because you were yet to invest in a proper picnic blanket, but still the happiest people in the world.

As he closed the gap between you, running his fingers over your jawline before cupping your face to get a better angle, you closed your eyes and gave into the adoration that emanated from him. In the subtlest of gestures, in the sentimentality that translated into him understanding you better than how you understood yourself, he was every bit a man head over heels in love. And while either of you were yet to say the words, each action and inaction both screamed it. Perhaps it was something more than love. A proximity of the souls that was built in the quietude, in the shadows of an emotional flurry. In the hustle and bustle of common terminology, labels and anniversaries, a little world that could only come into existence with genuine intent and care became a reality. This cozy corner that housed only you and Yunho. 'Did you eat?', 'I will take care of you', 'I'm outside with medicine' were all manifestations of this unspoken devotion. And as he placed one final kiss on your rosy lips before starting up the car, you were entertained by the fascinating coincidence in the only term you could think of to describe this feeling being the exact same as your boyfriend's surname.

Flickering lights, neon signs and a revelation that the cycle could stop. Though you were on the verge of somnolence, barely resisting drowsiness settling on your eyelids like the snowflakes outside, you watched as Yunho masterfully spun the steering wheel while singing a melody which you recognised to be Standing Egg's Starry Night, one which you had made him repeat again and again as soon as you had heard it once. Upon noticing your gaze resting on him, he broke into a chuckle and fell quiet until the next red light.

"Mmm, why did you stop?" You asked and pouted, glancing at Yunho's arm as he pulled on the handbrake.

"Because I want to look at you as I sing it:

Here we are close to star

I want to stay with you forever like this

Here we are close to star

The endless starry sky and you and me..."

As he sang, in the air hung a promise. One which you did not need for him to say out loud to understand, for more often than not, the feeling itself was the true, and magical meaning.

[softie-rain]

Step On Me

Pairing: Sejanus Plinth/Coriolanus Snow

Summary: “It’s not easy for me, you know. I wish I was still alive, so badly. I spent, and will spend, all eternity wondering what would have happened if I had listened to you.” Sejanus spoke again, tilting his head to the side. “Do you want to know what it is like to love you, Coriolanus Snow?”

Notes: omg I am SO excited for you guys to read this one. It's my favourite, and personally I think it's very sad (cried while writing it) but I hope you will enjoy it! I'm posting it a day earlier as tomorrow I'll be super busy and probably won't have time to post <3

chapter: 3/7 (weekly updates!) prev. chapter

read it on ao3 here

“You look ravishing, Mr. Snow.” 

Coriolanus jumped at the voice, turning around to face the intruder.” “You need to stop doing that.” He said annoyed once he saw Sejanus, going back to check himself in the mirror. He fixed his hair and tried to tighten the tie around his neck. He groaned in frustration when he failed, not understanding how such an easy thing was so hard at the moment. 

It was all Sejanus’ fault, clearly, for distracting him. He gulped when he saw Sejanus walking towards him. He stopped right behind him, observing Coriolanus through the mirror and gently passing a hand on his neck, his touch ghostly, like he wasn't really there. Yet he could feel the warmth of his fingers on his skin, and though he hated himself for it, he relished it.

“Here, let me help.” Sejanus murmured, gently turning Coriolanus to face him and helped him knot the tie. He observed as the other boy's fingers worked quickly and precisely on the soft fabric. When he was finished he clicked his tongue satisfied, “Done!” He said, allowing Coriolanus to look at it in the mirror.

“How funny,” Sejanus laughed, “I tied the rope around your neck just like you did to me all those years ago.” 

Coriolanus’ eyes went wide at his words, blood running cold in his veins. His eyes immediately went down to his neck as if to check that it was a tie and not the noose, almost out of instinct. Sejanus noticed this and laughed again. “Metaphorically speaking, of course.” He added, with a grin.

Coriolanus scoffed and pushed him away, not amused by his friend's behavior. “That metaphor doesn't work, idiot. I sent you to death.”

“And you're about to get married. Seems like a similar fate to me. Although to be fair, I didn't force you to marry Livia Cardew.” He snickered, flopping down the couch. 

Coriolanus glared at him, irritated by his still so childish manners. He assumed it was normal, because Coriolanus had his whole life ahead of him to grow into the man he was slowly becoming. Sejanus didn't. But that didn't mean it couldn't annoy Coriolanus.

But he wasn't wrong about who he was getting married to. Even Arachne Crane had been more tolerable than Livia. Listening to her squeaky voice every night at dinner, talking about the latest gossip she heard during the day, was comparable only to being stabbed in the chest by a thousand knives all at once.

She was beautiful, sure, but Coriolanus was pretty sure he had never met a more superficial and boring woman than her. Yet she still somehow considered herself better and superior than everyone else. After that day's ceremony she'd become First Lady. That was certainly going to enlarge her ego even more than it already was.

But he had no other choice. Livia had been raised to be the perfect housewife, with all the fierce values to be a respectable rich woman. She obeyed Coriolanus and did anything he asked, never contradicting him or going against him. She played the part of the politician's fiancèe (and soon wife) perfectly, and she was excellent in pretending they were in love during their public appearances.

On top of that, Coriolanus despised her. Which made Livia the perfect companion for him. 

“I'm happy for you, by the way. If this is what you really want, I support you.” Coriolanus wanted to throw something at him, but he couldn't. Not without attracting the attention of the guards outside.

“Why?” He asked coldly, trying his best not to yell at him. Not even five minutes had passed since his arrival and he was already getting so worked up. 

“Because I'm your friend.” Sejanus replied simply. “I won't lie and say I don't wish it could be me promising eternal fidelity to you, and you to me, but to love is to be happy for the other, to cherish their wins. And I'm happy for you Coriolanus, truly am.” 

He wanted to yell, he wanted to scream at him, he wanted to slap and punch him until he bled, so maybe then he'd have proof he was actually there with him. Sejanus shouldn't be happy, he couldn’t be. He was supposed to be mad, upset. 

He was the one who was supposed to be wanting to yell at him, not Coriolanus. He was the one who was supposed to be angry, not Coriolanus. He was the one who was supposed to be driven crazy by the other, not Coriolanus. Why was he so calm?

“Why are you still in love with me?” He asked, hoping he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt inside. “Why? I ruined your life. I took your life.” No point in lying to himself anymore. 

Sejanus stared at him in silence, without even parting his lips to answer. He simply looked Coriolanus in the eyes, seemingly daydreaming. It was similar, he realized, to when they took history classes. During those hours Sejanus seemed to escape reality, getting lost in whatever memory of District 2 his mind could master up at the moment. He told him that once, when Coriolanus had asked him why he seemed so lost in class. 

“It’s awful,” he had confessed, “To hear him talk about the districts like that. He’s so full of lies, always telling bullshits So I just zone out and pretend I’m home- in district 2 again. If I actually had to pay attention to what he says, I’d have told him to go fuck himself many times already.” Sejanus had laughed it off. It was the first time Coriolanus heard him swear.

Coriolanus was brought back to their current conversation when Sejanus finally spoke. “Because I fell in love with you when you were a good person. I saw the person you could be, desperately and hopefully fell for him, and I never recovered I guess.” He explained. “If it helps, it hurts me as much as it hurts you.” He said, serious.

Coriolanus walked over to the couch. Sejanus shifted his legs to make space for Coriolanus, who sat next to him. They stared at each other for what seemed hours, without speaking a single word. 

“It’s not easy for me, you know. I wish I was still alive, so badly. I spent, and will spend, all eternity wondering what would have happened if I had listened to you.” Sejanus spoke again, tilting his head to the side. “Do you want to know what it is like to love you, Coriolanus Snow?”

He was taken aback by the question, unsure on what to respond. Did he? He definitely wanted to know exactly what Sejanus felt, but was he going to like the answer? Probably not. But as usual his heart didn’t follow his rational thoughts, it never did when it came to Sejanus. “Yes.”

He sat up, legs crossed and now he was face to face with Coriolanus. “If I had the chance to do it all again, my head would be filled with doubts: would I help Billy Taupe? Would I still help them arrange that girl's escape? Probably not. Not if I know that I will die. And I feel so much shame for it.” Sejanus’ tone was low, almost as if he was shy and scared of what he was telling. He made it sound like a secret, one he wouldn’t even tell his ma’. 

“But that taunting shame,” He continued, “It’s nothing compared to having the certainty that if you had a second chance, you’d still turn me in. Every single time. Maybe you’d think about it, but each time, each second chance you might get, in every universe, you’d still press that recorder. You’d still betray me like you did the first time. Because your love for power is so much stronger than anything beautiful and happy you’ve known in your life. And I’d still love you.” 

His words hurt so much. They were daggers getting thrown at his back, he felt like his heart was being ripped out from his chest and Sejanus was stabbing it, smiling while he did so, and Coriolanus couldn’t do nothing but stare and let the boy utterly destroy his heart and soul, like he always did.

Coriolanus would like to yell that he was wrong, that he would never do it again, not when he knew the outcome of his actions. But, for the first time in his life, Coriolanus couldn’t lie to Sejanus’ face.

He was so focused on his own feelings he didn't notice immediately that Sejanus was crying. The perfect, calm and quiet mask he put on for each one of their encounters finally fell down. Now he could see him for the desperate, small and scared kid Sejanus truly was, and if he wasn’t as hurt as he was Coriolanus would smile in satisfaction at the scene. But he hadn't yelled, which left a taste of disappointment on Coriolanus’ tongue. 

“Sorry about the waterworks.” Sejanus apologized, sniffing and wiping away the tears. “I guess seeing the love of your life getting married to someone else has this effect.” He chuckled, trying to stop the tears from coming out. Coriolanus didn't know what to say. 

So instead he acted upon instinct and took Sejanus’ face in his hands and leaned in, kissing him.

Kissing Sejanus was nothing like what he expected, but then again he never really thought about what it would have been like. Not enough times to have a vivid image of his expectations anyway.

It was a wet kiss. He gave the fault to Sejanus salty tears for that, but he was weirdly drawn into his lips even more because of it. 

Coriolanus could feel that the other one clearly wasn't expecting the kiss, too surprised to kiss back at first. But it only took Coryo to caress his chin with his fingers for Sejanus to immediately reciprocate the action. His hand flew to the blonde's waist, pulling him closer. Coriolanus didn't mind, and instead sighed on his lips at the touch.

“Is this considered cheating?” He mumbled, pulling away for air. Sejanus was clearly much more touch starved than he was because he immediately pulled Coriolanus back in his arms, accidentally (or was it on purpose?) making him fall on top of him on the couch. 

Sejanus shook his head and, in between kisses, replied. “Not really. I'm dead, am I?” Ignoring the fact that rationally Coriolanus was probably making out with thin air instead of the pretty boy laying below him he nodded, as if it made total sense.

He was about to get married to a woman he loathed, it sounded only fair to him to have a few last moments of freedom before walking towards his cruel destiny. 

Coriolanus obviously knew it was his own doing, and he wouldn't change his mind about the wedding. It was a small sacrifice he had to make, for his greater purpose. That didn't mean he couldn't wish it was Sejanus he was about to spend the rest of his life with.

For some absurd reason when their lips touched the chaos of thoughts he heard in his head stopped. The storm he had inside ceased, and for once Coriolanus was at peace. 

He didn't feel guilty, not one inch of his body felt any shame for what he was doing. He didn't even care that he was being weak in front of Sejanus again. For that there'll be time later, right now he had to taste the moment as best as he could.

He wondered how Sejanus was feeling. Or, how the real Sejanus would have felt in that situation. Was what was happening a realistic representation of the real Sej if he had ever grown the guts to kiss him when he was still alive? He didn't have time to ponder on the thought more because Sejanus pulled away.

Coriolanus tried to chase his lips again, but he stopped him holding his index finger in front of him. He frowned confused, wishing Sejanus would just go back to kiss him already, when instead he parted his lips to talk

“You need to go, Coriolanus.” He whispered, as if anyone could have heard him if he spoke louder. “You have a wedding to attend.” 

It took all of Coriolanus' self-control not to slap him. Why would he bring that up now? Sejanus gave him one last peck, and he was about to protest when a knock on the door grabbed his attention.

“President Snow? You've been there quite a while now. Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, I'll be out in a minute.” Coriolanus said. He looked down again to give one final glance at Sejanus, only to find him gone already. He was going to fire that peacekeeper.

[effervescentdragon]

Piarles “we shouldn’t be doing this”

Por favor 🥺🐶

@mssr-monagato i love you.💕 this is only written because i got inspired by @hourcat @wolfiemcwolferson and @singsweetmelodies writing series of wonderful ficlets and i need the softness. (shooting myself for that gaffe rn btw) ❤️

The days are cold, but the nights are even worse.

Pushing through the lines on the Eastern front is hell. Charles knew people who thought Hell was hot were absolutely wrong. Hell was frozen land and frozen toes and frozen noses. It was cold metal of rifles and clumsy fingers that pulled the triggers. It was red streaks on dirty snow that used to be white once upon a time.

Charles used to love snow. In his memory, it was always pure white and it was always synonymous with joy. The muddy, red-and-brown streaked snow his boots fall into underneath his feet brings him only sorrow. It feels like a metaphor for this war, or maybe for life.

"You're so romantic, calamar," Pierre tells him when Charles shares his thoughts with him that night. They are both on watch. They rarely separate these days, and the watch is no exception. Their unit is sleeping in an abandoned house they found on their way East, always East, always further into the desolate freezing enemy teritory. "How do you still think of poetry when we are-" he waves his hands around, shaking his head "- here?"

Charles chuckles softly. There is no fire, they don't dare light one in case they are discovered, and the night bites at Charles' cheeks. The sky above them is covered in clouds, and the moonlight isn't enough to see anything clearly. It would be beautiful, if Charles weren't so cold all the time.

"Don't you think it's beautiful?" he asks Pierre. "There is beauty in despair."

Pierre shakes his head. "No," he says, much more sharply than Charles expected him to. "There is nothing beautiful in fucking despair. There is nothing beautiful in death, Charlo."

"You're Catholic, Pierre," Charles says, hurt for some reason. "Isn't that the whole point? That death is something to welcome?"

Pierre's brow furrows. He puffs out a breath of air and it's visible, that's how cold it is.

"I thought so," Pierre says after a moment. "I really thought so. And then we came here, and..." he trails off. Charles keeps looking at him, waits him out. "There is nothing beautiful here."

Charles smiles. "You're beautiful."

Pierre flinches, looking arou d with wide eyes. "Charles," he starts, a bit frantic, "we can't-"

Charles moves closer to him. "Why not?" He's whispering now, close enough to Pierre that he can hear Pierre's every breath. "Nobody is here. Everyone is sleeping. Our shift changes in two hours. There is nobody around for miles." He presses his cold nose to Pierre's cheek, breathes the next words to the corner of Pierre's mouth. "Why not?"

He feels more than sees Pierre swallow. "We shouldn't be doing this," Pierre says. His breath is warm when it hits Charles' skin. He's too cold to get aroused properly, but ut doesn't matter. It's not about that. It's just about Pierre.

"But I'm desperate," he whispers. "Desperate to kiss you. Desperate to feel you. I haven't tasted you for days, I haven't had you for months, Pierre, I can't-"

Pierre kisses him. Their rifles clank against each other, and they separate for a moment. Nobody stirs; nobody comes to check on them. They move the rifles out of the way, and in a moment Pierre is pulling him close, his mouth warm on Charles', his cold nose pressing into Charles' cheek. The leather of his gloves presses into Charles' neck and Charles shivers, desire and cold mixing and making his head spin.

"It won't be this war that kills me," Pierre whispers between kisses. "It will be you."

Charles grabs onto the lapels of Pierre's coat. "Nothing will kill you. Only petites morts, my love," Charles says, and Pierre chuckles.

"When all of this is done, we will go home, and we won't leave the bed for weeks, and you will die many times, and you will come back to me many times, Charles." Pierre's eyes shine with intensity. "I will bring you back every time, and then give you one more, and another, and another."

Charles nuzzles into Pierre's cheek. "You promise?" he asks softly, because he needs to hear it. Because he needs it to be true.

"I swear," Pierre replies. "I swear, my love."

Charles, despite everything, believes him.

[pearl-blue-musings]

Unforgettable Ch.9

*pokes head out from hiding* heyyyy, hey. How y’all doin??? I know it’s been a HOT HOT minute since I updated this but yeaaahhhhhhhhhh

Pairing: Dabi/Touya Todoroki x fem!reader x Hawks/Keigo Takami

A/N: universe altered, 18+, somewhat follows canon, slightly unrequited feelings, miscommunication, words are hard

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.2K

The cold months began to transition to spring and life seemed to have slowed to its usual pace. The pace of life before Dabi had entered and turned it on its head. Before your feelings for either men had interfered and made a mess of things. Hawks returned to being a double agent and fooling the league while you returned to your job at the hero commission and were still being restrained and watched. It was almost impossible for you to go anywhere without it being approved by the higher ups, something you and Keigo fought against hard but lost out. The secret of your previous relationship remained a secret but the feelings lingered on. How the world expected you to forget something so unforgettable was beyond your scope of reasoning.

Occasionally, small gatherings of blue flowers would appear on your balcony. Somewhere in the back of your mind there’s a metaphor here, in how you would let them all be crumpled by the snow. The petals get the nourishment they need despite being crushed by the weight of nostalgic appearing snow. You can’t bear to look at it, shutting your blinds closed and never wanting to look at the balcony again. It’s not like Hawks was stopping by anymore, he was on missions being undercover; you were also given orders to cease all contact with him whilst he’s with the League.

Those orders weren’t followed completely when the HSPC president was killed.

The attack on the headquarters was a precursor to what was to come from the Paranormal Liberation Front, indicating that they wouldn't be knocked down or taken too lightly. You had just barely escaped death as the enemy analyzed you as not a threat to them. So they incapacitated you for a time, knocking you unconscious as they started to take down hero society from within. All Hawks could do was watch from their headquarters.

The facade he puts on for them as they cheer over the news doesn’t crack as the camera pans over to your crumpled body. He stealthily releases a feather based on the coordinates seen to check in on you. His heart rate skyrockets as members of the liberation army ask him about the president and what life was like. Keigo briefly goes into the program and how he was raised, but leaves you out of it. When he finally has a moment alone, he cracks slightly as his heart burns, melting away the icy exterior he needs to survive the mission.

Dabi kept an eye on Hawks for this entire thing. He didn’t want to admit it, but when the camera went over to where you were lying on the ground he wanted to burn the screen. He specifically told them to leave you out of it. He’s going to give whoever laid a finger on you a searing scar. Dabi may want to kill his brother, but he would never let any harm come to you. You, you have a special relationship with him. And he’s sure that if anything were to ruin what he has, or had, with you it might break more of his resolve. Break him more than he already is.

So of course when Hawks brought up that the two of you have been forced to interact less, he was crazy ecstatic and torn. Hearing that convinced him even more that Keigo is clearly undercover. He doesn’t want to break Twice’s heart, so maybe some truths should be left unsaid.

Too many days Touya stares at your phone number until the first major battle of the war begins. Even as he practices what he’s going to say upon meeting his father and youngest brother, he wants to run his words and methodology by you. You wouldn’t think he’s crazy, right? You’ve always cared for him, as Touya and as Dabi. He wants, no needs you to understand where he’s coming from. He has to see you one last time. Dabi doesn’t care that you haven’t taken any of his flowers; at least his mother did. But you’re different. You’re you.

And that’s why he’s scaling the wall of your apartment building with the help of Twice to see you one last time as Dabi.

****

You’re startled by the sound of flesh and bone rapping against your balcony door. It’s been a couple of months since you’ve cut off communication with Dabi and you fear that he may be outside. You’ve started to lock your balcony door, not even wanting to be safe from Hawks. After you called the villains name during your lovemaking session his presence has been scarce. The tears you’ve shed for these two opposing men could fill a river and that hurts your heart more than you’d like to admit. Your heart beats like a kick drum trying to break the sound barrier at the mere possibility it could be either man. Securing the blanket around your frame, you hesitantly open the latch of the sliding door with eyes shut tight.

“Heh, am I really that awful to look at?”

You weren’t sure what you expected, but the rumbling of Dabi’s voice rings clear in your ears. On instinct, you bring him into a hug and his arms immediately wrap around your body. As angry as you are at him, something about him feels too familiar, too much like home. You almost miss the way he tightens his grip on you as you walk inside together. The motion is practiced as if the two of you hadn’t missed a beat these last few months. He still smells a little smoky and sultry as you breathe him in. He’s the first to break the silence, “I’ve missed you.”

You look up at him from the hug, tears coming to your eyes freely. Dabi’s eyes soften slightly at your sorrowful expression. “What’s that look for, pipsqueak?” You hadn’t realized you were crying until he wiped away a tear.

The words die in your throat as you finally gaze up into his striking blue eyes. There’s something hidden behind them, some sort of finality and strength you hadn’t seen before. “You came here to tell me something. What is it?”

Touya had always hated how perceptive you were to his thoughts and emotions. And this time was no different. He sighs deeply before bringing you to the couch in practiced steps, your knees touching his as you two sink into the cushions. Dabi lets go of your hands and interlocks his fingers under his chin. “Tomorrow,” his voice rumbles with a start, “the League, well the paranormal liberation front is going to attack.”

You sigh and cross your legs and arms together. “I may be on a set schedule because of my quirk but even I know that,” you retaliate. Dabi chuckles at your retort before he pushes himself up on his knees. Your eyes follow his movement as he stands in front of your television. “W-what is it, Dabi?”

He bends down and moves the coffee table out of the way, being eye level with you. “Look me in the eye sweetheart.” You shut your lids tightly, taking a breath before you stare in his eyes fully. Your heart skips a beat and a gasp escapes your lips. It can’t be, there’s no way. You had wanted to deny it the whole time but right now… “You know who I am, don’t you?” His lips are now dangerously close to yours and you can feel his warm and shaky breath fan your own. Your lip trembles and your tongue jots out to moisten them.

You quickly shake your head. “He’s dead. T-they told me you died…Keigo and I, we thought that…”

He presses his forehead against yours and gently cups your face. “Say my name.”

Hesitation overcomes you as the truth is blatantly in front of you. “T-Touya,” your voice breaks as his name finally leaves your lips after so many years. Touya softly digs his fingers into your cheek as he releases the tension in his back. How long has it been since he’s heard you say his name? How many nights has he wanted to hear his true name fall effortlessly from your lips, coating his senses in lush ecstasy. “I, I had a feeling it was you. You have the same eyes. But, but I thought I was remembering wrong a-and with the HSPC rewriting my memories I thought-” He silences your rambling with a kiss and you find yourself melting into it. How long has it been since you’ve felt his lips? How long has it been since you’ve felt his adoring and alluring touch? You want to melt into him, but you cut the kiss short.

You breathe heavily and whisper, “Keigo…”

“Whispering another man’s name?”

You shake your head. “No, he…he thought it was you, too. I had a feeling because you felt so familiar.” A finger traces along his cheek as the metal of the staples practically sting your fingertips. Tears start to fall freely down your cheeks. “You’re alive,” you cry, “for years we thought you were dead. Wh-what happened?”

Touya gently wipes at your cheek and takes your hands in his. “That’s a story for another day. But I need to tell you about tomorrow. I’m exposing the hero life for how shitty it is. My father, the number one hero will fall socially and hopefully in battle. I need to ask you a very important question.

“Will you join me in taking down my father? What good has hero society done for you? Lock you up, prevent you from using your quirk to the fullest, making Keigo a soldier? We’re going to tear it down, starting with my father. Join me, and I promise I won’t hurt Hawks too much.”

“I-”

At that moment your phone rings. The caller ID flashes that it’s the man in question. You swallow a lump; of all the times to finally have some social interaction. You sigh deeply and pick up the phone, motioning to Dabi to stay silent.

“Hey,” you start hesitantly.

“Baby bird listen. I’m sorry I’ve been going radio silent on you these last couple of months.” You can hear him huff on the other line in a hushed tone. He still must be undercover, you think. Your gaze drags over toward Touya who smiles cynically and comes to hug you from behind. The brush of warm metal on your neck sends a shiver down your spine. Is he really trying to do this right now? With Keigo on the phone??

“I-I know,” you gasp out, “I’ve been avoiding you, too. Look Kei, I’m sorry for what I said.”

Touya pinches your side in curiosity and you try to wave him off. You try to weasel your way out of his grasp to finish your conversation but he’s got you in a vice grip. “I know you’ve stopped by to check in on me.”

Hawks chuckles and his tenor voice sends the butterflies in your stomach fluttering. “Even when I’m undercover, you can still figure me out.” The sound of his wings flapping in the distance stuns you. You want to ask him where he is but with your current company trying to make you break, you keep it to yourself. “Dove, this is serious. I need you to listen to me.” Your voice goes dry at his sudden change in tone and you stand up at the seriousness.

“What’s going on?”

“Tomorrow, something huge is going down.” You immediately turn to Touya with wide eyes. Hawks continues, “it’s calling for all hands on deck. We’re even using the students of U.A. to help us out because we’re so short staffed.” The wind passing in the back lets you know he’s on a rooftop to contemplate things over that’s out of public view. You wait with bated breath for him to finish. “This might be one of the hardest battles we’ve been part of. Heroes, villains, all of that can change so suddenly.” You feel your heartbeat rising in volume and tempo the more he talks to you. Your free hand fiddles the hem of your shirt and Touya is quick to take it in his, his warmth calming you down.

Your voice comes out barely above a whisper. “What are you saying?”

You hear a sigh and a groan before you hear his voice again. “We need you. I can show you the layout of the different bases and you can guide the heroes to apprehend the bad guys.” Dabi tightens his hold on your hand and you hiss in pain. “You okay?” You slap Dabi’s hand away and he smacks your ass in retaliation.

“Mhm I’m fine! Just stubbed my toe is all.”

“My clumsy girl,” Keigo chuckles, “what am I to do with you?” Behind you Dabi growls at the possessive remark, curling in on himself. “But, what do you say pretty bird? Help us stop the villains and All For One in their tracks?”

The question hangs in the air and you’re sure Touya heard it. He stands up to approach you again, taking your hand in his. “So,” he grumbles out…

“What’s it gonna be?”

Taglist: @luluwiie @kiribaku-queen @shinsouskitten @kacchaneatsass @omegaverse-musings @sssjuico10 @zefrenchturtle @isimp4hawkz @waffleareniceandfluffy @kunaigirlx44

[yakumtsaki]

Hello dear readers, guess who has a 3 day weekend! 

-𝙽𝙾 𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙲𝙰𝚁𝙴𝚂 𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝟹 𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝚆𝙴𝙴𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙳! 𝙲𝚈𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚂𝙰𝙸𝙳 𝚈𝙾𝚄'𝙳 𝙽𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙾𝚄𝙲𝙷 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙷𝚄𝚂𝙱𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙰𝙶𝙰𝙸𝙽! -I meant that metaphorically!🌸 -𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚄𝚃𝙴!

Oh wow so no greetings or anything, just straight to it after a month?

-Oh, you bet! I HATE YOU, BARFOLOMEW -GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME, FAILINA

WHAT. WHY ARE YOU CLONE FREAKS FIGHTING

-THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE RECESSIVE-GENED KID AROUND HERE AND IT IS I! -THE HELL IT IS!

What??? What even is this interaction, I’ve never had kids do this before????

-IT’S THE TORMENT INTERACTION AND BARFOLOMEW’S EXISTENCE IS TORMENTING ME. HE’S NOT EVEN SUPPOSED TO BE HERE, HE WAS AN ACCIDENT!!! -LOOK AT YOUR EAXIS HAIR BEFORE YOU TALK OF ACCIDENTS, FLOPINA!!!!

But you got along as toddlers!

-WELL NOW WE KNOW BETTER

Uh, any adults here feel like intervening in this bloodbath downstairs?

-Sorry, we were into them while they were cute babies, once they hit age 6 they’re on their own. -But we’re more than happy to have another one, if only someone would turn autonomous try-for-baby back on!

Ya absolutely not. Sandy?

-̵B̷U̸S̵Y, T̷H̶I̵S ̴I̶S D̵E̴F̷IN̷IT̸E̴L̷Y T̸H̷E C̸E̷N̵T̶U̵R̸Y W̵H̶E̵R̷E I̸ F̷I̵N̵A̵L̶L̴Y G̵E̷T ̵P̸R̷O̷M̶O̶T̵E̶D🧟‍♀️

Sure you are. Sugar??

-All by myself.. Don’t wanna be all by myself, anymooooreeeee...🎵

YOU CHEATED ON BOTH YOUR WIVES.

-And I’m ready for a third!

God, I already miss having Jojo around to berate you.

Shajar I don’t even know why I’m bothering to address you for this, but could you talk to your grandkids? 

-AHAHAHAHA

Ya I figured.

OH THANK GOD

-As usual Sophie Fucking Miguel has stepped in to save the day. Grandma just said a bad word, Felina, you shouldn’t repeat that.  -I FUCKING HATE BARFOLOMEW 

Well Sophie is still the best we have, love you babe.

And SUGAR also steps up. The fact you ruined your family only to be the best uncle ever is just.

-Don’t worry buddy, we’ll build up your arm strength and you’ll be beating up Felina in no time!

Look at Kitana beating up Shinok, just like Dobronega beat her up, what a rite of passage🧡

-YOU’RE GOING DOWN, SONNY BOY. IT’S THE CIRCLE OF LIFE

I feel like you have your circles mixed up, Kitana, but what do I know.

We end the night with the reignition of the Don/Sandy feud which began and continues for no discernible reason. 

-D̴O̴N̷'̷T T̶H̷I̵N̶K J̵U̴S̷T ̷B̴E̸C̶A̸U̵S̶E I̵ D̵I̶E̵D A̴G̸A̸I̴N ̴I̵ F̷O̷R̴G̶O̵T ̸I ̵H̸A̵T̵E Y̸O̵U🧟‍♀️ -You did forget what showers are so it was a fair assumption! 

Ok let’s break it up here, that’s enough for one night..

-LOOKS LIKE IT’S A NEW DAY, SANDY!!!

-HA, GET REKT! -T̸H̷I̶S I̷S̴N̴'̸T O̶V̸E̵R, G̶E̵E̴Z̸E̴R🧟‍♀️

Two ancient carcasses beating each other up, does it get better than this?

Oh wait, it does, two ancient carcasses tripping balls. The only person in this house remotely acting their age is Sophie, and she’s gonna be buried in her teenage tracksuit.

It’s a snow day so we invite over Spice! Ok Cyn, I know this topic tends to confuse you but this is your actual grandchild.

-Sophito had another kid?💗

...Yes, yes he did. 

AWWWW

-Don’t worry buddy, we’ll build up your arm strength and you’ll be beating up Bartholomew in no time!

Sugar please stop trying to start a child fight club.

I was beginning to think Felina’s a-lot-for-us 7 nice points were fake af like Cyn’s, but she gets along great with Spice, so clearly it’s only her brother she hates!  

-Haha you’re dead, loser! -My ghost will kill you! -Yay let’s play ghosts next! -Yay!

Ok you two, let Barf- BARTHOLOMEW, goddammit Felina, play with you.

-UM HARD PASS -Ya, he’s weird!

-Who needs friends when you can swim fully dressed? 

Those recategorized outfits are not helping your rep, Barth..

..and I need you all on your best behavior because our beloved Headmaster Vince is here, he finally felt safe enough to come by again now that Victoria has been dead for 150 years!

-I thought it was time to bury the hatchet!

Clearly you thought wrong as Xander going out of his way to piss on you proves!

iVan has been having another one of his breadkowns all day, I love how he alternates between mechanic and mental ones, so the task of cooking fell.. 

..TO CYN. I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU DIDN’T BURN IT, GREAT JOB

-And you said I wasn’t a good grandma!💗

BECAUSE THESE AREN’T YOUR GRANDKIDS. Let’s just have dinner with goddamn Vince so he can fuck off.

-Let me tell you, Mr. Union, if your cousin had won the heirship instead of you I wouldn’t be back here! He was the worst student we’ve had in our thou$hand year hi$tory! And that hat!  -Stay calm, babe! 

Sophito please, put your deranged and inexplicable loyalty to Sugar aside just this once for the sake of your children.

-Have.. to... DEFEND-

NO YOU DON’T. EXCUSE YOURSELF

-I HAVE TO GO.

Good, that’s it and not a point more, gtfo Vince! No one but us gets to point out Sugar is an abomination!

Time to celebrate with some pet-graveyard-DJ-karaoke. I don’t remember if I’ve told you guys about the Sugar-Shajar friendship but it’s killing me, the way Cyn-Shaj wanna swap kids but Sophie is standing in the way lol.

Oh boy, iVan is now hitting the bar at 10 am. 

-𝙸 𝙳𝙾𝙽'𝚃 𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝙰 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙱𝙻𝙴𝙼, 𝙸 𝙲𝙰𝙽 𝙿𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚂 𝙴𝚂𝙲 𝙰𝙽𝚈𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴!

When I look inside the house I can’t blame you:

-YOU’RE A LOSER, FAILINA, YOU’RE A LOSER LIKE GRANDMA SHAJAR!

Uh, you’re the one with Shajar’s personality, Barth. 

-I know, that’s why I need to preemptively stick that label to Failina! 

LOL the Shajar comparison has poor Felina like 😬😬😬 

-MOM WELCOME HOME HUG HUG ETC. BARFOLOMEOW SAID I’M A LOSER LIKE GRANDMA SHAJAR, IT’S NOT TRUE RIGHT?? -Oh sweetheart, of course not! Your personality is just like your dad’s and he’s definitely not a loser! 

LOL good one, Liz!

-Ok Barth, that one broke my jaw, let’s calm down, buddy.. -Oops! >:D

June and Lakshmi’s bebe Bleu is here again and she got the neverending flu from us that she’s now gonna spread to all the spare households! Amazing job, Bleu! 

-Grandma, Barfolomeow said I’m a loser like you! You’re not a loser, right? -What nonsense, would a loser be Mayor by age 24 running unopposed in a town populated only by her close relatives?? Now run along, you little pest, I need to get high!!! 

-THIS IS IT, BARFOLOMEW, ME AND YOU, RIGHT NOW.  -WHAT? -YOU MADE ME COMPARE MYSELF TO GRANDMA SHAJAR, YOU’RE GOING DOWN -BUT MY TRAINING IS NOT COMPLETE -I DON’T CARE, PUT ‘EM UP

Our first child fight! What a proud moment for this family, not even Shaj and Cyn beat each other up.

-Oh no, iVan, how could this have happened?? 10 bucks on Felina, that boy has noodle arms. -𝙸'𝙻𝙻 𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽.

Drinking, homewrecking, betting on child fights, you really are a huge help around this house, iVan.

This is the longest fight ever, WILL YOU TWO KNOCK IT OFF

-NO. THE CROWN IS MINE

What, Felina’s little plastic crown? Just take it who cares??

-THE HEIRSHIP CROWN

WHO CARES ABOUT THAT EITHER, YOU TWO LOOK IDENTICAL

-I AM VICTORIOUS

YA NO WE’RE ALL LOSERS HERE. ENEMIES?? HOLY HELL, KIDS

And now it’s time for the I-lost-the-fight whining. Cut it out, Felina, if you didn’t wanna lose maybe you should have trained before attacking.

-That’s a terrible message! 

Trust me, it’s the most compassionate one you’re gonna get around here.

-WAAAAH SANDY I LOST MY BIG FIGHT

-T̷E̴L̷L I̷T T̴O ̴S̷O̸M̷E̶O̶N̴E W̶H̶O̵ C̶A̶R̷E̴S̵, B̷R̴A̷T̵, I̵ H̴A̷V̵E P̵E̴T B̴E̴D̷S̵ T̷O̴ C̵L̷E̷A̷N. U̸S̷E̷L̶E̵S̷S-A̸S̶S̵ i̷V̷A̶N I̶S̷T̸G̵🧟‍♀️

The clones return from school the next day and both get A+s!

-YES I’M THE BEST!

-AND I’M THE BESTEST!

Ya ok whatever, now that you’re both happy why don’t we sit in our ‘beautiful’ living room and talk this out?

-Listen, Failina.. -Ugh, I’m so great it’s practically insane. -FAILINA.  -I’M NOT RESPONDING TO THAT NAME, BARF -WELL YOU SHOULD, IT SUITS YOU BETTER 

-I’M THIS CLOSE, BARF. THIS CLOSE -JUST TRY ME

Ok then, let’s stop sitting in our living room and go as far away from each other as possible.

Don has like 2 days left on this earth (💔) and apparently he’s gonna spend them beating up Sandy.

-Get back in there and bring home the gold!🌸

WHAT GOLD

Look how ecstatic he is, normally I stop those multiple fights but I’m gonna give him this last treat, but man it’s not even a fight, he has 10 body points to Sandy’s 0.

-I LOVE BEATING UP THE WEAK AND DEFENSLESS 

I’ll miss you, Don🖤

Boy, everyone is enraged tonight. 

-I’M SO PISSED ABOUT MY BED

-I’M SO PISSED ABOUT FAILINA

-̴I̷'̷M̶ S̸O P̴I̵S̵S̵E̸D A̴T̸ W̵H̴AT̶EV̵E̸R̸ T̷H̶E H̷E̶L̸L̷ I̶T ̸I̵S T̶H̸I̵S D̵O̸N S̴P̸A̴W̵N I̵S D̷O̵I̴N̶G🧟‍♀️

Ya that’s actually a valid complaint, Sugar wtf are you doing.

-I never noticed how much this weight gain suits you, Sands! Wowza!

GROSS. LEAVE SANDY ALONE. I CAN’T EVEN LOOK AT THIS, MOVING ON

It’s Don’s last day so he and Cyn spend some quality time making passionate geriatric love and hearfarting over each other in perfect synchronicity-

-and it’s time to say goodbye to our Donnie.

-DON OATES, YOUR TIME HAS COME💀 -Man, I love your outfit! Can I get one like this?  -NO, IT’S CUSTOM CHANEL💀 -UGH -DAD NO -I’m pissed too, Sug, ‘custom Chanel’ my ass!

-COME ALONG NOW💀 -Goodbye Moonflower et al!🖤 -Hang on Donnie, I’m coming! I’m coming!!🌸 -I’ll miss hearing you say that!🖤

And with this final ‘EW’, our beloved Donaldo leaves us. Rest in peace, Don, you were the most loving and tolerant legacy spouse of all time. I’ll miss your iconic style, your bloodlust, and your complete indifference to anyone who wasn’t Cyn❤️

Poor Sugar is devastated-

-and I’d be too if I saw this will. OVER

-It’s ok, I know just how to deal with my grief and inheritance bitterness!  -L̵E̶T̶'S̴ A̷C̷R I̴T,B̴A̸B̴Y🧟‍♀️

NO WAY. YOU’RE NOT EVEN FRIENDS. WHAT

-Can we get some privacy please? -Y̶A, I̷T̶'̸S̵ A̴B̷O̴U̷T T̶O̴ G̴E̵T ̴N̶A̴S̵T̴Y🧟‍♀️

HE ZOMBIFIED YOU TO BE HIS NEW MOMMY AND THEN KILLED YOU 20 YEARS LATER, HOW MUCH NASTIER CAN IT GET

-Do you wanna be around to find out?

NO I DO NOT. GOODBYE

[wherewisteriaends]

Watching GoT for the first time

I saw someone do this with Grey's Anatomy but I can't find it again so if someone knows, give them credit for the idea. Anyway I am finally watching Games of Thrones for the first time with only a vague idea of the plot so here comes my stream of consciousness while doing so.

Obviously some spoilers ahead. Let's start off with season :

-The first hand saw Cersei and Jaime , I can bet on that.

-Ned, you're right winter is coming and you're wrong the night watch didn't deserve to die. -Bran, my dear.

-Is killing Joffrey do-able ? 'cause he kinda is a jerck and gets on my nerves

-I don't think Jon Snow is really smart. Tyrion was right about telling him what kind of privileges is was granted.

-I'm going to be a Joffrey slander. Lady did not deserve that ! Neither Sansa and Arya and the ginger boy.

-Gosh there are too many names !

-The faith or religious dogme is not made clear. I haven't read the books and I don't exactly understand what is there place/customs/beliefs. But it's fine 'cause they don't seem to have any big importance or whatsoever.

-Joffrey and Viserys slander.

- I don't know how but I always end up shipping ships that are rare on the Internet. Baelish x Catelyn in my heart

-Baelish is not reliable. He's even cocky about that.

-What the hell of a shitty king is that ? Robert, you suck.

-Robbert doesn't look like an exciting character to me. I don't know, I think he is lacking energy and complexity. He just looks like the good firstborn, the dutiful heir. However Arya ... I will be rooting for her. And no Ned, clearly she won't be a lady wife.

-I like the storytelling of the Targaryen story. It's very well introduced.

-I don't get why Sansa wants Joffrey to like her. Joffrey was the shitty man here, not your father.

-Ned, you're lacking good senses into the viper nest.

-They're blaming Tyrion and it's clearly not Tyrion and poor Tyrion (who looked very frightened) ; but oh Catelyn that was a power move. (not a very smart one tho)

-Catelyn my girl you're so smart. But also no, you're not.

-"Why ? Am I starting to make sense ?" such a powerful line.

-Rodrick is going to die. Who are we to pretend.

-I fear Bran words about the Tully devise are foreshadowing something.

-Ned, take the warning and listen to it.

-Varys is for the Targaryen !

-oh boy I came 'cause I hear about it but now I am staying for the politic plot. I love a bit of manipulation and hunger for power. -Ned I think you should leave to wait an hour to speak to someone. -Lysa is mad. She is completely mad. The son too. -Okay, Robber, you're not such a fool after all. But you have anger issues. -Cersei seems like a broken woman. Jaime is shit. -The hair Ned ! The hair ! -The whores watching is a funny thing to me. -Okay Robbert slander now ! You don't hit your wife. -And Cersei lying is getting you nowhere. They were witnesses. -The scene where Daenerys eats an heart lacked introduction. Vyseris you little filth, if you touch her because of her son, I swear I am finding way to bring you into reality and then murder you.

-This scene of the heart holds such a power. - They never gave it to you whiny boy 'cause you don't deserve it. You don't deserve anything truly. -Lysa and her boy are shitty. And Catelyn why the hell are you standing unmoved ? -Robbert is king but it is a Lannister rule. -He had it coming. Viserys only had himself to blame. -Yup, Dany, you're the dragon. -Tirwyn piecing a stag is a good metaphor. -He is a complete fool to tell her. Telling her does not preserve his honour. - Baelish teaching about sex and prostitution is - well very smutty obvi but also very true ; I love that guy. - Ned is so dead. Baelish is going for his head. - Ser Lorah the traitor ! Who got a change of heart. -Ned you should to him and go to war. - I love Baelish's logic. Nothing moral in it. But that is amazing scheming.

-And then Dany got what she wanted. - I knew Ned would die, I didn't think it would come so fast. Well he is not dead yet but that is clearly the way the season ends.

-I truly don't want to guess what happened to Sansa. -Varys calling him out on his madness is so right. He should have kept his mouth shut. Don't play the hero, you don't want to be the hero. -Sansa truly just wants to do good. -Bowing instead of fighting isn't the right answer. -I thought there were 5 Starks ... where is the last one ? -The 6 year old boy is right. - You're a bit delusional Catelyn. Ned is already dead. -Robb is foolish and idealized his father. Plus if this Umel does not betray you, it will be a miracle. - I also get the feeling Baristan will betray. - Okay I now stan Baristan. -Baelish and the side-eye >>> -Ned is not seeing the greater good for the realm but he is also right about the Lannister. - Poor little girl. Lord Frey is disgusting. - I did not made the link so I am surprised he is Jorah's father. And yes I can't remember his name. - Apart from the ones who are already mothers, women are truly just object. TwT. That's why I love Arya. That just disappeared by the way. -"Love is the death of duty" is a powerful sentence. But Ned is probably not the right exemple for this one. -Aemon was such a plot twist. -I feel very sorry for Tyrion. And technically he was raped by his first wife. -Joffrey was a bastard for this ! At least Cersei was right about it being madness. -The choice of silence for Ned's execution was a very good cinematic choice. - The knight I don't know the name did right by Arya. - JOFFREY SLANDER ! KILL THAT BOY HE DESERVES HELL - Gosh this Northern man has an ego - I honestly forgot they had Jaime. I love how Jaime knows he has sinned. -Cersei also sleeps with her nephew ??? -I don't know how Joffrey calls himself a legitimate king when the Baratheon are at war against him too - I love how neither Tywin and Tyrion are no fools. But the rest of the Lannisters all have too much ego for it. -Dany was truly desperate. -The old guy from the council is completely out of it. - I love Varys and Baelish relationship. -Arya and Robert's bastard is a good mix. -Dany was bold (and kinda mad) for this. -What an end for a season !

I will obviously be coming back for more. Good night/day everyone

[hmshermitcraft]

Hello! I have yet another hybrid headcanon coming up.

Bdubs is a snowy owl hybrid whose outer plumage turned green while his inner plumage is still white. He never knew why it turned green but it’s probably because he always kept close to the land away from snow, losing his advantage in the snowiest of areas but… it helps him quite a lot when he’s in the greener lands. It seems permanent though, however.

He likes to be nosy and snoopy and has a knack for spying/espionage, all in a mischievous yet lighthearted way. Though there is one person he likes pestering on and on by being discreet and out of sight. That one person that he always has an eye on is Impulse, a lion hybrid. He likes looking at that man of the pride, taking in great interest at checking him out (literally and metaphorically). He’d probably perch on a tree branch, looking as the lion is trying to get resources for himself in the forest. Or he can try and sneak and follow Impulse as he does some trades with the fellow hermits.

Unbeknownst to Bdubs, Impulse is very aware of him being a little snoop, in fact he loves this pesky owl always keeping an eye on him. Impulse pretty much is not that oblivious of his surroundings, always taking on an optimistic caution everywhere. He first noticed the signs of the resident snow owl of the land following and snooping him around when a few of Bdubs’ feathers of green and white were found by him when he was on his way home, on the usual path he takes. He’s heartwarmingly amused by the owl man’s antics whenever he goes out.

Impulse would then devise a plan, to trick Bdubs into keeping on following him somewhere where Impulse could just tackle him. Will it work out or not? He wouldn’t know. All he knows is that he has to get this bird, in a loving way of course.

-signing off, 💙 anon

It's nice to have a silent watcher - boosts his ego and all that! But he'd like to know what makes him so fascinating to the owl. He's pretty sure there's no bad intentions, but he can't help but be curious!

He decides tackling the owl might scare him off, so he opts for a softer approach. He leaves some food out for him, and is pleased when he finds the portions gone! He's not been able to provide for a pride for some time, so looking after somebody else feels nice.

Bdubs, meanwhile, is confused. Clearly Impulse knows he's watching, but why isn't he saying anything? He can't be upset, he's leaving food (nice food, too! Fresh!)

Clearly, the only solution is to talk to him.

This might take a while.

[startreatment]

literally no one asked, but i'm listening to midnights in full (again) to see if my opinion's changed so! a little track by track review!

lavender haze - i got it the first time. nothing bad to say about this track tbh! really like the melodies, it's catchy and feels fresh and new. well, it kinda reminds me of false god in a sense? maybe it's just the sultry nature of the track. 8/10

maroon - this fuck ass song. the metaphors are giving "high schooler trying to write poetry" at times, the chorus is just. . . no, thank you! earlier on twitter i said that it feels like too much and not enough at the same time? her vocals are clearly the focus, but i don't particularly enjoy the melodies on this one, so. . . don't like the production either actually! it's kinda like afterglow but worse in every way to me. the outro's nice though, i love her voice! still i skip it every time it comes on shuffle and roll my eyes every time i see maroon praise on the tl. 4/10

anti-hero - actually a lot better than i remember! that sexy baby line still catches me off guard every time tho. the bridge is very funny TO ME! i kinda see the vision now i think. maybe! idk. the verses are kinda there, don't really do anything for me (which is actually a problem with most track on this record, now that i think about it). nonetheless it's like a 7/10

snow on the beach - genuinely a great track, even though i never get the urge to listen to it. love how dream-like and hazy and Cold it sounds! like a particularly frosty night in the middle of december. it's a very purple track as well, if you know what i mean. i like it! some of the lyrics are questionable ("life is emotionally abusive" is just not it for me SORRY).

ALSO the "weird but fucking beautiful" part is incredibly annoying to me . . .something about it is so lana that i just can't stomach it, it makes me physically cringe. when i do listen to the song, it's always the clean version lol. also i just couldn't give less of a shit about lana and i'm glad she didn't get a verse! 8.5/10 tho, a beautiful track.

you're on your own, kid - i get what she was going for, and if it weren't for jack i would've loved this one a lot more bc lyrically and vocally it's very very nice! unfortunately they both hate me. oh well! 8/10

midnight rain - love the concept, but the execution could've been wayyyy better tbh. lyrically it's a bit corny at times and production-wise it's nothing to write home about, but it's not outrageously horrible, so i guess a 6/10?

question...? - i have the bad taylor swift songs enjoyer gene so TO ME this isn't half as bad as everyone makes it out to be. the bridge is meh, but the melodies are very fun! lyrically, it's kinda all over the place, but i still get it . 7/10

vigilante shit - look. didn't i just say i have the bad ts songs enjoyer gene? it could've been in my top 5 if the production was even a tiny bit interesting. lyrically? it's atrocious. unbelievably corny, this weird mixture of edgy and awkward only taylor can achieve. in other words, PERFECT !!! it kind of reminds me of lwymmd, if lwymmd was like 3 times less cunty and camp, and like 10 times less interesting production-wise. vocally, she delivers though! very sexy, playful and fun!!! we could've had it all!! jack had other plans, i guess. 6/10

bejeweled - really fun. one of my favs since day one, actually! loooove the production on this one! the synth (? i don't know shit about instruments btw) makes me think of those 3-in-a-row games and it's just Perfect! love those "nice!" moments, love the chorus, love the bridge. in the famous words of Taylor Nation, let's reclaim the land, uk swifties! 8/10

labyrinth - too boring, sorry. i've seen someone say that if this song were on folklore, swifties would "give it the attention it deserves", and i couldn't disagree more. it's just not It lyrically, sorry. 5/10. SORRY. genuinely don't understand why she put this on the record instead of something like would've, could've, should've, or the great war or even glitch (which would make the bejeweled -> karma transition seamless. do you guys think we'll ever get a solid ts album tracklist that makes sense? i doubt it.)

karma - again, i got it the first time. verses are boring and if i could, i'd only listen to the chorus+the bridge, but it's still soooooo FUNNNN!!! like. karma is a cat purring in my lap cause it loves me. that chorus melody is Insane and her vocal delivery is top notch. she's a pop mastermind. 8/10 only because the verses suck otherwise this would've been a 10 and i mean it. i like pop music a lot btw.

sweet nothing - really sweet. doesn't make me feel like i'm slipping into a coma, unlike labyrinth. beautiful piano, beautiful melodies! like a 7/10 maybe. should've been a tad shorter i think.

mastermind - i wish it didn't suck this bad production-wise. i think the concept's really fun - a song about being a mastermind from a woman known to leave easter eggs everywhere she goes. the idea of working hard behind the scenes trying to construct a perfect love story for you and your lover... i get it. unfortunately, it's also . . . boring. 5/10.

not gonna do the 3am tracks and hits different because they're all great and i don't feel like writing out "this has great lyrics!" 7 times in a row. i do have to say that dear reader is the worst thing ever because JACK ANTONOFF. like it just makes me want to throw up how much i like the lyrics and how shitty the song sounds. goddamit.

it's a 6.7, according to my calculator!

[fallouttboy]

and what if i said that heaven, iowa is a song about chicago?

heaven, iowa is clearly a california song (mulholland drive is name dropped lol) and also a reference to field of dreams, but see, it feels so much more personal than either of those things.

pete has said a few times during tourdust that it’s a song about drinking a bottle of screwtop wine and driving off a cliff. which, yeah. it is. but it is also a song about eternal unattainable love and the pain that comes from it, self reflection, being too aware of who you are as a person.

i immediately latched onto the time: 6 am. why are you, first of all, drinking wine at six in the morning? why are you alone (save for moonlight sonata) in a car on mulholland drive? at six in the morning???

personally, i’ve always read it as a deep state of dissatisfaction, probably from an extremely depressed pov, one where you don’t feel much of anything. the kind that’s impossible to describe to someone if they’ve never been through it themselves. the kind where you sit alone in a car listening to beethoven on repeat with a screwtop bottle of wine, watching the sun rise over bright and sunny california while you feel like the deadest trees in the coldest winter.

the change up of star crossed lovers to scar crossed lovers packs such a punch it makes me ache. the beautiful tragedy of romeo and juliet’s love, somehow, pushed into a more tragic scene. the lovers who quite literally died for each other, couldn’t live without the other. in this lyric, they lived. scar crossed. they carry that death, they carry the weight of their unattainable love, they hold the weight and the pressure and misery of their love and wear it as a locket. you look so good in blue.

the car as a symbol of this wallowing in self pity, in misery, is incredibly prominent and fragile and it breaks my heart. the pov is from someone who is in control of the car. we don’t know where they’re sitting, but they have the keys. they can drive away. they can leave. but they stay. they lock themselves in the car and stay and rot in their misery, as right or wrong of them to do. i use the words rot and wallowing with their full meanings-pov is not just sitting in contemplation, or they wouldn’t have the wine. they wouldn’t be parked on a road at sunrise. they wouldn’t be listening to moonlight sonata as the sun comes up. they are there to be in the emotion, regardless of how bad it makes them feel (or, maybe, in my opinion, because of how bad it makes them feel).

so what does this have to do with chicago?

it’s pete.

pete thinks in drawn out metaphors and contradicting allegories. he writes life as a long winded prose novel. he is every english major’s worst enemy and wettest dream.

one of the big symbols in his chicago-set pseudo-autobiographical novel gray was driving away when things got bad, either physically or mentally. pov would drive out and away and be gone and his friends would worry but that’s fine because he’d always come back unless he didn’t. and who cares if he didn’t? it’s not like he has friends who are stressed when he bounces or a girlfriend partner sex buddy scar crossed lover forever. it’s not like he has her or Her or them. the chemistry is a mess, it seems. who cares if he drives out into lake michigan at 3 in the morning? it’s just him and his music and his car and chicago.

just like it always has been, even across the country. lake michigan’s rough tides aren’t too dissimilar to the pacific’s normal ones. the waves of lake michigan mimic the rolls of hollywood hills. driving into the waves or driving off of the cliff-it’s all the same. baby please, would you read my eulogy?

and, just a little fun tidbit i love to think about: he’s comparing life (at least in the bridge) to a snow globe: shake things up and see what comes down. los angeles doesn’t get snow, but you know who does? and is, dare i say, known for it in a way? chicago. shake things up (move a lake effect kid to hollywood) and see what comes down (him).

[ladyhindsight]

It tells a lot about this book when I am only in the third chapter and I’m already thinking when will this end.

Simon goes back to Jordan’s and Maia is there. Stuff is awkward.

How does he know the T-shirt is long-sleeved if Maia is wearing a jacket?

Really lovely that the first impression is Maia and Jordan starting to see each other again when Maia clearly was not over her trauma over Jordan in CoFA.

Cut to Clary in the New York Institute about to steal the faerie rings for the Seelie Queen.

→ The first time Jace had taken her...

Why is Tessa’s pendant in New York? For any plausible reason than having yet another TID reference.

Way too long interruption.

→ The case was locked, of course. Clary, biting her lip, drew and Opening rune, careful not to make it too powerful lest the glass case burst apart and bring people running. It unsnapped the lock.

→ Why would anyone come running? When the PoV changes to Clary, the very first thing written is: “The rattling gold elevator stopped at the third floor of the Institute; Clary took a deep breath and stepped out into the hallway. The place was, as Alec and Isabelle had promised her it would be, deserted and quiet.“

Then dun, dun, duuun. Jace and Sebastian appear to steal some books from the library and Clary hides.

→ The ice in Clary’s veins crystallized

→ Nothing ever seems to compare to the feelings Clary has relating to Jace.

Useless adverb when it is later written than Clary’s lip is bleeding, showing that she bit her lip really hard.

→ ...a spotlight on a stage. The chips of glass and marble and bits of....

→ It is truly shocking how Sebastian and Jace appeared unexpectedly and out of nowhere to the library but not shocking enough to not make a note how much better Sebastian looks with his natural hair color.

→ This is the third time the comparison to Snow White is made. The first two were in City of Fallen Angels made by both Clary and Simon separately.

I understand that this is a stylistic choice but at the same time, get to the goddamn point without all these detours.

→ but nothing visible showed that it has ever been missing. (Sebastian’s severed hand that is)

I am fairly certain there is at least one occasion in every TMI installment where Jace is wearing something white and his Marks are visible through the shirt, and Clary always ogles at him.

→ Clary’s heart began to pound PERIOD. The context shows us it is because of she’s afraid.

→ Sebastian was murder, blood, pain, and terror. Jace had fought him and won once but had nearly died... (Get those metaphors in)

Not once has Jace initiated this kind of casual physical contact with Alec. This is manipulation of the previous narrative in order to redefine their poorly depicted relationship.

Same point as above. Also, Jace doesn’t have friends. He has family and Clary.

→ She tasted the blood in her mouth.

→ She should get up, move, runaway.

→ What do you mean she wasn’t supposed to be there?? Clary isn’t banned from the Institute nor is the library restricted from entering? They have casually been in the library before. What is this nonsense.

We cut to Alec at Magnus’ place. Alec is picking up yet another fight with Magnus, and I am done.

This is just bogus. The issue began with Alec not knowing anything about Magnus’ past. It was a frustration that build up gradually and generated distrust and feelings of triviality. Everyone wants to be someone’s first choice, and Magnus was unable to give Alec the sense of safety as to their relationship by withholding his past relationships (all kinds) and past in general.

If they recognize this as an issue, they are doing absolutely nothing to deal with it. Magnus is written wanting things to go his way, without having to truly commit to Alec by revealing all the parts of himself while Alec is expected to be content with the status quo and not deal with issues that eventually need to be dealt with. Alec’s own insecurity as to this helps nothing and makes things worse, but neither are doing nothing to solve it.

A lot of reviews on this book are happy that Magnus dumps Alec in the end because Alec is a moron in this installment, which is true, but at the same time all the responsibility as to their relationship and its troubles are pushed on Alec to mend and be better for being the absolute moron. Which isn’t how this works, and as the actual adult and the more experienced one Magnus should know if Clare knew how to write sensibly anything regarding this relationship.

All of this just underlines how terrible the basis for this relationship is, and how either of them behave doesn’t really make me wish for them to overcome these issues. Of course, as they eventually do, it’s disingenuous, dishonest, and unearned.

We cut to Maia and Jordan.

→ No. Maia owes Jordan nothing.

→ Pray tell why Maia or Jordan or any werewolf gives a fuck about Jace Herondale being gone? This is strictly Nephilim business, anything that would affect the Downworld as well has not happened. Why is Jace being gone having any effect on Maia or Jordan? They are not friends and barely know each other.

→ Why are they looking for Jace on their own accord? Why do they care so much about him?

“#¤%&/(!

Cut to Simon meeting up with Isabelle, Alec, and Clary.

Again, get to the point without all this detouring.

→ and broke off as the phone in his pocket buzzed.

Akin to “it was too late” and “she never got to finish her sentence”, stop telling when you are actively showing what is happening.

→ Scrap that whole sentence.

[absolutesort]

𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨   ;    ʙᴇᴀᴄʜ ʜᴜᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ !

how are you feeling in your current couple ?

      “ honestly ? ”  frankie laughs, giddy as a teenager. “ pretty ecstatic right now.  i know i’m new here, and this is my first time in an actual couple, but i feel great. it feels right, y’know ? and when your gut tells you that, you just have to trust that your body knows what’s best for you. ”  instinctively, she realises she’s flushing, her face hot and she lifts her hands up to cover it, laughing against her fingers.  “ god, this is so embarrassing. and the thing is, i know i was the one who had to do the picking, but callie said she was gonna pick me too, and that she’d already spoken to kenny and stuff about it, so yeah. feeling good, feeling calm, feeling positive. ”   nodding enthusiastically like a bobble-headed dog on the dashboard of a soccer mom’s impala, frankie shoots up both thumbs.

is there anyone outside of your couple that you’re still chatting to ? do you think your head could be turned ?

    “ marcus made it pretty clear at the party he wants to get to know me, and he’s so cute, but i don’t know if i have the same chemistry with him that i do with callie. max, too. he hasn’t outright said it, but i’m like, the oracle of sussing this shit. he totally wants me.  i don’t think naomi’s interested per se, but like, there’s this sexual energy there that i don’t know if i necessarily wanna get into because there’s so much drama that comes with naomi, but i’m definitely very aware of it. ” blowing air through her lips, frankie leans back against the cushions, tugging one leg up onto the couch to lean on. “ it’s super early days, dude. like, i wanna say no ?  no, my head will not be turned. i want to say it, and i feel like in my heart, or at least in my tits, it’s no, but i know i’m a big flirt, so i don’t know. right now, i’m not super interested in anyone else but callie ? ” her voice lifts up at the end, like it’s a question. “ but i’ve been here for four days, and i’ve spent most of that time just getting to know callie. ” so she’s not even really tried things with anyone else...

     “ like, i’d say the door is like, eighty or ninety percent closed. like, i’m peeking out and it’s snowing, and i’m watching the traffic and the pedestrians in the street, but like, i’m still firmly inside the house, there’s a fresh cup of coffee on the side for me, my hands are on the door but my wife and kids are calling me like, honey, close the door, you’re letting in a draft ! that’s what it feels like. i wanna close the door, and i’m in the process of closing the door, but i’m cautious to put all of my eggs in callie’s omelette or whatever the metaphor is because it’s still so early. ”  she swallows, cautiously optimistic. “ but i like her ! a lot. so right now, no. i don’t think my head will be turned. ”

what are your thoughts on the last recoupling ? are there any couples that surprised you ?

     “ romi and marcus sticking together was a shocker, but like, maybe it’ll be good for him to see that he can pick them and they’ll still fuck maddox right in front of his face, no mercy. ”  shrugging, she quirks an eyebrow, half-smiling in a very jim from the office expression. “ it was savage. but after that, i mean he made it pretty obvious he wants to fuck me, so ? clearly he’s coming to his senses. marcus rebound era is upon us, and i for one, can’t wait to see it. ” honestly, they’re cute, but she’s never really bought the whole love-at-first-sight angle they have going, even if that’s hypocritical considering her and callie have basically u-hauled after two days.  “ other than that, shocked that josh recoupled with jenny. she’s a safe bet, but if that spin-the-bottle game was anything to go by he’s clearly still dick-deep into naomi. it’s just embarrassing for everyone else to watch. i’m not jenny’s biggest fan, i don’t like the girl, but i don’t wanna see her get savaged because the cheesehead makes her pussy flutter. she might be unbearable, but she still deserves to find someone all about her. ”

did nana or kenny’s departures affect you at all ? out of everyone left, who would you be most upset to see go home next ?

     “ kenny’s departure affected me because i was the one who caused it, i guess, and in the way that it kind of symbolised callie closing the door on one relationship to focus on just getting to know me. not that callie was the one picking, but she kinda did make it clear she wanted to couple up with me. and after the recoupling she said that like, she’d already spoken to kenny about the fact that she was going to choose me. ” maybe they hadn’t aired that, but frankie wants to make it obvious she isn’t a backstabbing snake, even if she did steal someone else’s partner. at the end of the day, they all have to go for what they want — and for frankie, that’s callie.

     “ in one way, that feels like a lot of pressure ?  because now if things between me and callie don’t work out, she doesn’t have a fall back plan that i know of. but at the same time, not having a fall back plan is kind of a good thing ?  because it means there’s like, less eyes watching us, less competition, and we don’t have to feel like we need to be stepping on egg shells around each other. we can just do what we want without shame or guilt. �� and they have been, if the amount of PDA is anything to go by. “ honestly, i didn’t really know nana, and i always got kinda bitchy vibes from her watching the show so, yeah. good riddance i guess. bye, felicia !   people i don’t want to go ? obviously callie. i’d be gutted if she went. probably dylan, too. marcus is one of my best friends in here, so i don’t want him to leave, either, and in a weird way, i’d miss max. if he went, who would i have to laugh at my dirty jokes ? ”

a lot happened at the cowboys and aliens party. what were the highlights of the night for you ?

      “ the party was so much fun. first off, i love westerns. it’s like, my favourite genre of movie and i looked fit as fuck. i made out with like, three different people. maybe even four ? i can’t remember. it was honestly the most action i’ve gotten in a while, and i’ve been to ibiza. ”  she laughs nervously. “ okay, so that was spin the bottle. then there was the bull !  oh my god, i feel like that bull was there specifically for me. that was fun, but jenny kinda riled me. i lost my head a bit, but i still had fun. didn’t beat my record, though. ”  didn’t get quite the same reaction as jenny, either — not that they’re scoring points.  “ i did really enjoy seeing callie on the bull. she put in a good fight. ” laughing, she absentmindedly begins braiding her hair. “ we definitely got a lot closer at the party. it was out first ‘outing’ as a couple, i guess, and it feels good to just be super touchy feely with her. ”  swallowing thickly, she tries to bite back her smile, mischief dancing in her eyes. “ we may have also got touchy feely on the terrace, too in a totally non-sexual above board way. ”  laughing, frankie hides her head in her hands.  “ super fun. two very satisfied customers. that’s all i’ll say. ”

which couple do you think has the best chances of lasting to the next recoupling ?

     “ me and callie. not to blow smoke up my own ass but based on the absolute state of the other couples ?  i think we’re good. ” she’s not about to start shooting out the names of couples that won’t last, like the nightmarish josh / jenny / dylan / naomi scenario. honestly, she’s not that convinced by bash and rhys either, since rhys seems like he goes for people with more bite.  “ i think if rhys and bash stay together, it will be for safety and convenience rather than because they actually see a future with each other. i’d be pleasantly surprised if dylan and naomi last past the initial honeymoon phase. ”  would that make her and naomi sisters-in-law?  awkward.  “ unless a bombshell who comes in who’s a) even more my type than callie, if that’s even possible, and b) laying it on super thick, i can’t see why we wouldn’t make it. ”

[onehellofaridesmau]

🎧 - 5 (Prose)

Stede’s got no clue what he’s doing. Objectively, this is a bad idea. The saving grace in his idiotic behavior that had been texting Mary will still be a moot effort if this Ed fellow does, in fact, turn out to be a bit homicidal. Or even something half as bad.

Then again, Stede’s been out of his depths and treading water for the better part of 20 years. If this is how he goes out, let no one say he didn’t have a spectacular downfall in the last 6 months. Like a particularly dense little star burning for far too long, finally collapsing in on itself in a brilliant super nova of questionable decisions and freedom. Like a sheltered kid going to college and cutting loose for the first time in all the wrong ways.

(Stede will never be incredible like a collapsing star and he was too afraid of his father to be anything other than a model student at school — They’re both bad metaphors and this is still, indisputably, a bad idea.)

“Jesus,” Stede mutters to himself, his fists tight around the steering wheel; knuckles white. He’d hoped the ride would offer some time to either relax or come to his senses but there’s no one out this early in the morning and so he’s made great time, and he’s pulling up outside of a nondescript bar called Hornigold’s before he’s had time to do anything other than sweat a little. It’s a delightfully sketchy dive, carved into the side of a large brick building which does not advertise anything at all on the main street.

Outside is a singular figure. A man in black leather pants and a tight black shirt. He’s got two fingers hooked into the collar of a leather jacket, which is slung over his shoulder. (It’s frigid, even sputtering a bit of snow, but the man has a sheen of sweat over his bear arms so maybe it was sweltering in the establishment.) Wild hair in a messy bun. Gold eyeliner glittering in the light of the lamp above the door. He’s smoking (hot, Stede’s mind adds, unhelpfully.)

Stede thinks he might have a stroke. He’s unsure what he wants the answer to be when he rolls down his window and calls:

“Are you Ed?”

The man’s eyes flicker to his, cat-like in their scrutiny. Stede half expects them to flash in the same manner as a cat’s in the dark of the early morning. And then he grins a feral sort of grin and Stede resolutely does not let out a humored huff at the fact that that, too, is rather feline.

“Who’s asking?” Says the man.

“Um— Stede. You texted me … earlier.”

The man looks deeply intrigued when he approaches the car, folding his arms in the window as he assesses Stede. Stede watches him back, trying not to show his nervousness. When their eyes catch Ed seems to be expecting him to say something — Stede can’t begin to guess what — whatever it is, Ed let’s it go as the second tick be, shaking his head a little and laughing.

“Can’t believe you actually came, mate.”

“I said I would.”

“Could’ve bailed.”

Stede laughs a little, self-deprecating. “Yes, I suppose I could have. Am I to understand you don’t want the ride then?”

Ed yanks the door open and slinks in. He’s got a certain finesse to his movements, but he’s also clearly been drinking.

“Nah, I want the ride. Just surprised me is all. That doesn’t happen often.”

“Ah, well, we must keep each other’s lives interesting musn’t we. Where to, then?”

Ed gives him an address and Stede sets off. It’s further away - about 20 minutes.

Stede is distinctly aware that Ed’s eyes haven’t left his face since Ed got in the car, like he’s trying to discern something from his profile.

After a time, he finally breaks the silence with a simple:

“Alright. I’ll bite: Why?”

“Why what?” Asks Stede, his eyes flicker to meet Ed’s. They’re deep brown, rich and intelligent, even if they are a bit unfocused at the moment. Stede looks back at the road.

“Why’d you give me a lift, man?”

“I told you, I worried you’d hurt yourself otherwise. And you were quite persuasive in your texts!”

Ed snorts, amused. “Hmm… Well, thanks.”

“Of course, anytime.” Stede means it. He’s stopped saying things he doesn’t mean. Still, he’s sure Mary and Lucius and his small but growing group of new acquaintances would be horrified to know he’s got this little self preservation.

“Dangerous to be saying shit like that.”

“I know,” says Stede, “but even so. And anyway, perhaps this is a sign to become a ride-share driver. I always fancied I’d look rather dashing in one of those cabbie hats.” He smiles, “what do you think?

“Yeah mate, I could see it. Let your curls poke out around your ears and all. Could be a good look.”

“Exactly!”

The GPS beeps. “I believe this is your stop.”

“So it is,” says Ed. He’s watching Stede again. Stede’s not sure if he’s always this inclined to make eye contact, or if it’s because he’s drunk. Or for some other reason altogether. Still, it makes Stede a bit fidgety. Like he’s being properly seen. A new experience.

“M’going to text you again,” says Ed, as if making the decision right then. He nods to himself and slides out of the car.

Stede watches him walk up a flight of stairs to a brownstone.

Ed turns around and points at him: “Don’t block my number,” he hollers into the empty street.

He’s grinning wide and bright, little flakes of snow turning his graying hair white. Stede finds himself smiling back. He offers a little thumbs up, for lack of anything better to say.

Ed turns back to his door and Stede waits until he unlocks the door and slips through before he puts the car back in drive. Just before the door closes, Stede sees Ed turn back and catch his eye offering a small smile, barely recognizable through his beard but for the crinkle of his eyes, and a two-fingered salute.

[krotosis]

hi alice,

I’ve noticed recently that, despite having (truthfully limited) walks of nature around me, I always choose to stay placated in my bed and view them through the lens of my phone instead. I wonder why this is? Am I so lazy that I’d prefer my mind walk and observe that nature by itself, stay sullenly limply laid in my cradle and watch the river run through the sclera of my imagination?

I’ve seen nature many times, enough to be able to envision it clearly anyhow. I still crave to see it again, hear the hum of water and rustle of trees, all those cliche metaphors, the personality gifted from writers to ecosystems that we know so closely. Somehow, I feel that I wouldn’t be able to make it past the centuries of concrete to get to the lush green I’m craving. I know that from whatever angle I hide away in, the view of a decaying grey will still follow. There is seemingly nowhere I can go to stay safe from all this infrastructure. I don’t have the means, the energy or the money. I just want to be there.

It’s so weird, because all I simply need to do is drag my body from place to place. My feet won’t fail me, my legs will keep pacing, I could force myself forward and in hours find the closest thing I have to greenery here. Somehow it seems fruitless though. I don’t have the energy to think about anything but preserving that energy. I think I’m just lazy. I’m complacent in living between the mattress and headboard.

Every single year, I always witness the way weather changes ever so slightly. Warmer summers, warmer winters. It doesn’t snow anymore, this winter I think there was instances of frost maybe once or twice. Depends if you catch that early morning glimmer. The summers are relentless but I get to sit beside them and daydream about expensive tans and beach-blonde hair. Sometimes I wonder if everyone else is willingly ignorant to what’s happening, how people around me swear on having kids that are male or female, sibling or without, with beige rooms or pretty toys, whilst somehow being unaware of it’s exasperated selfishness. You are not having children to give life, you’re having them to accomplish a meaningless milestone, all whilst the grass yellows outside. I don’t understand it. I understand that you have a right to give and take and live and die, but I don’t understand why you would refuse to see it’s connotation because you live under the shade of that right. I honestly find it disgusting, somehow disturbing. Are people so unaware, or like me, do they find it easier to push it away and daydream, stuck in delusion?

I know that my viewpoint surrounding the earth and it’s people is cynical, but whenever I’m approached with the challenge of configuring whether anything I think is nothing but a justification of my pessimism, I can only say that I’m being a realist. I guess I would say that though, I don’t see enough colour to escape my own thoughts just yet.

Alicia, when it’s summer, tell me if the countryside outside your window decays a little. Tell me how it compares to last year, if the fruit is any more ripe or green, any more sour or sweet. Tell me if the stream runs rougher or slower. I don’t want my daydreaming to decay with the earth.

Sorry,

Your childhood friend

[cimerran-714]

I find it a bit hypocritical how people think H/Hr are "just friends" and then turn around to ship Harry with Ginny.

I mean, prior to book six, it wasn't clear that he liked her. At all.

Sure, there were various "indications" like how he noticed that she "glowed like the setting sun." And guess who else receives Harry's attention throughout the books? Hermione.

He observes that she's got snow in her hair, that her cheeks are flushed/her eyes bright, and a whole lot of other things that I can't remember off the top of my head. It might not as strong a metaphor as the one related to Ginny, but I think that's moot.

Also, he clearly cares more about Hermione than Ginny.

When he'd thought that Ginny cried in Deathly Hallows, he didn't even bother to comfort her.

He looked at Ginny, wanting to say something, though he hardly knew what, but she had turned her back on him. He thought that she might have succumbed, for once, to tears. He could not do anything to comfort her in front of Ron.

"I'll see you later," he said, and followed the other two out of the bedroom.

But when it's Hermione that's upset:

"Don't!" squealed Hermione. Startled, Harry looked over just in time to see her burst into tears over her copy of Spellman's Syllabary.

"Oh no," said Harry, struggling to get up from the old camp bed. "Hermione, I wasn't trying to upset you- "

But with a great creaking of rusty bedsprings, Ron bounded off the bed and got there first.

I'm guessing that someone would point to the second-last sentence and say "well, Ron was pissed off because he'd snogged Ginny. If he wasn't, Harry might've comforted her."

But it's still an interesting pattern to set in the books. Incidents like this around H/Hr happen multiple times throughout the series.

[stuff-from-the-void-matron]

Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (11)

(c!technoblade x fem!reader)

(people showed chapter 10 some nice love so here’s chapter 11. sorry it took so long to get out. I threw my back out and doing just about anything has been physical torture. but I’m starting to feel better so here’s hoping I’ll write more soon. but remember, please comment and reblog. they keep me motivated! <3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things settled down pretty well after the election. Almost unbelievably so. Wilbur pretty much completely disappeared afterwards. You felt worried and voiced your concerns with Niki, saying you hoped he wasn’t terribly upset he’d lost the election. You understand he no doubt felt incredibly attached to the title of president, and he may feel resentful of you for ‘stealing’ it from him. Niki smiled at you, glad you were being kinder about this than the other contestants would be in your shoes, but sighed and said,

“Yeah, he’ll probably be upset for a while. But I’m sure he’ll come around to accept you as the new president.”

You gave her a thankful smile, even if you didn’t quite believe her words. But then you paused and wondered if maybe, despite all your reservations about the brunet man, it was possible to smooth things over with him? Maybe all you needed to do was sit and have a talk with him. Perhaps he’d gone insane in the original timeline because both Schlatt and Quackity were… well, for lack of a nicer term, total dicks to him. They were openly antagonistic to the former president, banishing him and his younger brother from the very nation they fought and died for, which no doubt added to his crumbling mental state after L’manberg chose a new leader.

But maybe you could be different from Schlatt and Quackity. Honestly you had no desire to be cruel to Wilbur, though you would not put up with any of his BS, and honestly you hoped to have a neutral relationship with the man. So you decided right then that there was no harm in trying. Your smile brightened and you nodded and said to the blonde woman,

“You’re probably right, he just needs some time. Maybe after a few days he and I can have lunch and just talk. Clear the air between us. I’ve never been president before so I’m sure he’d be a great help in getting me better settled in!”

Niki was super glad you were being so chill about all of this. She knew you were the best choice for president. That’s probably why she’d voted for you. (yeah she’d heard your little speech and was really moved) But she’d never tell Wilbur that. He fully believed she’d voted for Coconut2020, and to be fair she had intended to until she was so moved by your speech. You had a way with words that just put the listener at ease.

“Yeah, I’m sure things will be alright,” Niki replied with a cheerful smile.

-0-

You settled into being president pretty well all things considered. There wasn’t as much work as you were expecting there to be for a president. But perhaps your only frame of reference (the US president) was a bit different than your current job (l’manberg president). L’manberg was super small actually. Especially compared to the United States. Hell, Punz’ house was almost as big as L’manberg if you remember right. 

You’re glad there wasn’t much presidential work to do at that moment. Because you wouldn’t have had time to juggle that work plus going back to your village and packing up some of your stuff in your ender chest before telling the villagers (and azo) what actually happened while you were gone. Which had been an ordeal in itself. You felt bad for just leaving to a new place so out of the blue. But you felt obligated to complete the role of president given to you. You’d feel less obligated if there was some other option you felt safe passing the torch to. Someone not a child. That left out every minor on this server and Wilbur. 

Part of you considered Fundy and Niki for the job but another part of you doubted if they’d be able to handle it. Honestly they shouldn’t have to either. It’s no secret that being president is one of the most stressful jobs a person can have. Being in charge of the safety and well-being of a group of people is enough to turn anyone’s hair grey. Even if the group was just like 10 or so people like L’manberg had. You remember seeing a post about pictures at the start and end of American presidents’ time in office. And each president looked at least a decade older in each after picture. Complete with wrinkles and grey hair. Those happened in FOUR years! Their jobs were so stressful that they aged 10+ years in only 4 years.

You were pulled from your thoughts by Tommy practically shouting “We’re here!!” as you all made it over the hill that led to your village. The first thing you saw was the towering bamboo wall around the perimeter of the place. You’d been so in your own head that you’d actually forgotten about the two boys on either side of you. They’d insisted they accompany you to your village as ‘presidential bodyguards’ despite the fact you said you would be fine. They’d practically demanded to go, to ensure the ‘new prez’ didn’t get attacked on the journey. Amused and touched that they cared, you’d finally relented and let them come along. You’d only be gone a short while anyways. At least that’s what you told yourself. 

It didn’t take long to pack up everything you wanted to take with you to L’manberg. You put all the nice gifts the villagers gave you (as well as a couple of the banners you made) and some of the stuff you made and packed it away into a shulker box you pulled from the Creative inventory before picking up said box and putting it inside your ender chest. Then you just picked that chest up and tucked it safely in your inventory and you were basically done. With packing anyways.. You still had to talk to the villagers and let them know you had to move away for a while. But you doubted they’d be heartbroken or anything. Maybe bummed out but they’d understand. It’s not like they’d be lost without you. They’d been living in this world long before you showed up and they’d probably be here long after you left.

Then you were ringing the village bell. And like every time you did the villagers all poked their heads out from wherever they were to see who rang it and what was going on. And when they saw you they brightened and hurried over to see what was happening. They gathered around you and the bell, murmuring curiously between themselves. You sighed and cleared your throat, gathering their attention to you before you hesitated, not entirely sure what to say. Should you explain the entire story from start to finish? No, probably not. That would take a while and you felt like they’d get bored fast. But just blurting out that you were leaving felt too abrupt and blunt. Though your indecision ended up not mattering because Tubbo finally lost patience with the silence and just let the metaphorical cat out of the bag in his usual laid back candid way.

“Are you gonna tell them you’re moving away?”

Oh that caught the villagers’ attention and suddenly you were surrounded by displeased grunts and hums, like surround sound stereos. You sighed and confirmed yes, you were. So with the news out there you started explaining what happened the day before, or at least a shortened version of it. You mentioned how you’d gone to support Tommy, placing a hand on his shoulder as you said this. Then you said how you’d sorta advised everyone to vote for who they felt would lead them smartly, and how you guess they took that as you entering the presidential ring.. And finally how you’d won the election by some points and how you’d not wanted to reject their trust so you’d accepted the job…

“Reader is our new president!!” Tommy practically shouted, clearly excited. 

Though from the disgruntled murmurs from the villagers they didn’t seem happy.. But you told them it would be okay. You’d come and visit them as often as you could while juggling your new job. But even with that promise they didn’t seem happy. Your shoulders slumped a bit and without thinking you said,

“I’m not happy about having to leave the village and move away either. But I made a promise to the people of L’manberg, one I intend to keep.” 

Despite not feeling the best about this you were determined to keep your word.

“Besides, it’s not like I can just pack up the village and move you all next to L’manberg!” you said with a flippant wave of your hand.

But the idea didn’t sound too bad to the villagers. They basically worshipped you as their guardian deity. So if loading up all their possessions and hauling them to a new place meant they got to stay within reach of their deity then so be it. They’d still be living in squalor if it hadn’t been for your kindness and generosity, so they wanted to follow you wherever you went. Be it sunny skies, harsh rain, freezing snow. 

So they all made excited grunts and you blinked at them, catching on to their train of thought pretty fast. You shook your head, missing the confused looks the two teen boys were shooting between you and the villagers, and said they couldn’t follow you to L’manberg. Hearing this made the boys’ eyebrows shoot up and they started asking if the villagers wanted to come live in L’manberg. You sighed and said they seemed to, yes, but it wasn’t viable because there was nowhere for them to live! Moving them all on a spur of the moment thing would be reckless. Not only would the journey be very hard on them and take quite a while but there’s also no homes available for them in L’manberg. 

“We could make some houses for them if they want to move to L’manberg!” Tubbo said with a little grin, not seeing the issue with them coming over.

You rubbed a hand down your face, careful not to jostle your mask too much. But then you sighed and finally caved in. 

“Okay, you can all move next to L’manberg,” you began, but before they could cheer you cut them off with, “BUT! They can’t leave today. I refuse to let them take the whole long journey to L’manberg just so they can be homeless when they get there.”

You said you and some others (who you would pay) would build a new village next door to L’manberg for them. And once it was complete you would come back and help ferry them all over safely. But you might have to take them over in small groups to avoid hostile mobs and stuff. Though despite all the risks the villagers seemed quite happy with everything. So you pulled out your notebook, the same one you’d used when you first showed up to the village actually, and made a note to start construction on a new village to either the North or East of L’manberg. Or whatever side had better building room. But now that that all was settled you bid the villagers goodbye, saying you’d start construction as soon as possible.

With that out of the way you decided to pay a visit to Azo. You missed the adorable little piglin and hoped she was doing okay. Your boys followed you into the Nether, asking what you needed from there so badly. That made you pause and realize they’d never officially met Azo! You smiled down at them and said you’d sort of taken up guardianship of a little piglin girl who lost her parents. You’d expected questions and some comments but got nothing but silence in return, which left you feeling a bit confused. But when you glanced over at the boys you saw Tubbo looking lost in thought and Tommy looking mildly upset. This caused you to stop short, which made them pause and look back at you. 

“What’s wrong?” you couldn’t help but ask.

But they both waved you off, Tubbo with a soft ‘what do you mean?’ and Tommy with an almost harsh sounding  ‘nothing’, both of which didn’t sound the least bit convincing. So you tilted your head to the side and in a firmer (but still gentle) tone you asked again what was wrong. Tommy’s nose scrunched up and he crossed his arms, adamantly saying nothing and asking if you all could hurry up and see ‘this kid’ since you had to hurry back to L’manberg. Tubbo tried to piggyback off Tommy, his smile attempting to be brighter as he agreed, saying he wanted to meet your ‘new kid’. That’s when it hit you..

“Are you two upset that I adopted a kid?”

Tommy wasn’t very subtle with his feelings, his loud “WHAT?! NO!” didn’t convince you of his supposed ‘uncaring’ regarding the situation. Tubbo however reacted slower than his friend, like he was processing what you’d asked before he gave a laugh that sounded too stilted to be genuine and denied being upset, saying that was ridiculous. Tommy actually started walking away, heading in the direction you three had followed when you were together here last time, with the goatish brunet watching him anxiously. But you called for him to stop and come back, maybe a touch sterner than you’d wanted. But when the blond came back to you he refused to look at you, just scowling down at his feet. You felt your heart ache at the sight and let out a calm breath.

You wrapped one arm around the blond’s shoulders and the other around his back, pulling him into a comforting hug. You laid your cheek on the top of his mop of hair, glancing down at Tubbo who was shifting between watching you both and glancing away nervously. Without much thought you removed the hand holding Tommy’s back and instead used it to carefully tug the brunet boy into the hug. They just stood there at first, still and awkward almost. But once Tubbo wrapped his arms around your hips and Tommy’s back his blond friend quickly caved and sunk into your warmth, wrapping his arms around you both tightly, like he was afraid you’d both disappear. 

You took a breath and gently began to rock the two back and forth, missing how Tommy’s eyes pricked with hot tears as he heard your steady heartbeat against his ear. After a couple minutes of just standing there relaxed into the hug you said quietly but with as much emotion as you could put into it,

“Tommy, Tubbo, please talk to me. I can do many things, but reading minds is not one of them.”

You felt your shirt become warm and you frowned and hugged them tighter,

“If something is bothering you two, if you’re sad or upset or angry then you need to tell me so I can maybe do something to make you feel better. I never wanna see either of you upset, so please… talk to me?”

The air around you three was unintentionally heavy, only the sound of fire crackling nearby broke up the silence. It was killing you to remain quiet but you didn’t want to push them to speak. That would just make them clam up and possibly push you away. So you waited, just holding and rocking them as you did. And your eyes brightened when your patience was rewarded.

“.... Why’d you have to go and get a kid?”

You half expected for Tommy to be the one to break the silence, he was always so against the quiet. But no, instead it had been Tubbo who finally buckled and voiced his thoughts. You couldn’t help but ask what he meant. And he sort of stuttered over his words, not sounding exactly sure what he wanted to say before he got his thoughts and mouth to cooperate.

“I thought you already-.. I mean you have us.. Why’d you-..”

If your heart could physically break like glass then you knew after hearing that it would be in a hundred pieces on the floor. You couldn’t help but pull them closer and bury your face between theirs, unknowingly letting out a softened keening sound. 

“I want you both to listen, just because I take another child under my wing doesn’t mean I no longer care about you two. I don’t think I could ever stop caring about you. You’re my boys, and I-....” here is where you hesitated, not wanting so sound weird but you continued,

“If you both want… I mean since neither of you have one to my knowledge… I’d happily be your mom.”

Shy isn’t exactly how you’d describe the two boys you’d begun to care for, but there was no other word accurate enough to describe how they agreed to your offer to be their mom. Tubbo gave an almost meek, “alright, sure” while holding onto your waist and Tommy gave a long-suffering sigh while trying to discreetly wipe his eyes and said, “I guess you’re cool enough to be my mum. Barely though.” That caused you to let out a loud guffaw, your grip on them loosening enough to where you could ruffle the blond’s hair.

“Ohhhhh, Big man himself thinks I’M cool? Very high praise~”

The heavy atmosphere lightened and your laughter had the two boys laughing too. But then a sly grin took over your face and you chuckled. The sound alerted the boys of your mischievous mood and they looked up when you started talking.

“Well, now that you’ve accepted me as your mom I’m legally obligated to do all sorts of ‘Mom Stuff’, I hope you realize that. Like making sure you both eat things besides bread and meat, make sure you sleep regularly, and do the spit thing when you’ve got dirt on your face.”

They gave you a look that was a mixture of confusion and mild disgust, and Tommy couldn’t help but blurt out,

“What the fuck do you mean by ‘spit thing’??”

Unbeknownst to him, he’d activated your Mom Trap Card and your grin grew into a smirk and you raised your hand, casually commenting that he seemed to have a bit of dirt on his cheek, and then you licked your thumb and moved it towards his face. He shrieked and practically threw himself backwards to avoid your spit covered finger. But you still had your arm around his shoulders so he didn’t get far. He rapidly screamed out a verbal blur of ‘nonononoNONONO!’ that had Tubbo nearly doubling over, howling with laughter.

Though his laughter abruptly cut off with a gasp when Tommy escaped your hold, causing you to turn your sights on him. He let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like the bleat of a goat before turning and running from you. You just cackled and chased after him, your longer legs giving you the advantage. You caught up with him before he knew it and lifted him in a backwards hug. Now it was Tommy’s turn to laugh at Tubbo.

But you did let him down, without cleaning his face, and smiled down at the pair and said sincerely,

“All joking aside… I think you two would make a cool pair of big brothers..”

Tommy took that and ran with it, saying of COURSE he would be! He was practically Tubbo’s big brother already! Which just caused Tubbo to argue with him that uh, NO, he was older than Tommy! So HE was the older brother out of the two of them, if anything! And oh boy that caused them both to go back and forth, arguing about who was the ‘older brother’ between them. Tubbo insisted it was him because he was born first but Tommy insisted it was him because he was taller. You just shook your head and led the bickering duo down the familiar path to Azo’s little ‘house’ you built her. And as you reached the open area you saw her outside the house playing with a couple other baby piglins. But when she looked up and saw you she squealed happily and all but sprinted over to you. You made sure to bend down and hold your hands out to catch her. 

She was so excited to see you again that she totally missed the two boys standing at your sides. At least until she heard them and then she stiffened and stared down at Tubbo from her place in your arms. Neither boy really knew what to say so you decided to intervene and put out introductions. You tapped her hand and smiled down at her, helping her worry ease a bit.

“Azo, I missed you! I want to introduce you to my sons! This,” you gestured to Tubbo, “is Tubbo. And this,” you turned your head and pointed to the blond on the other side, “is Tommy. They’re both very nice. And they wanted to meet you!”

You turned so you and Azo were both facing the boys and saw them smiling genuinely. Relief flooded you, thinking they were actually glad to meet the little piglin, unaware the smiles were more stemming from the fact you’d called them your sons so easily.

But you saw the wariness still on Azo’s face and worried she’d not like her new brothers. Suddenly you got a bright idea and your smile widened as you spoke up and said, 

“Hey, don’t you two have a gift for Azo? Maybe something yellow and shiny~?”

Tubbo’s mouth dropped down into an ‘o’ as he realized what you meant. Then he elbowed Tommy and then pulled open his inventory and started looking through it. Tommy glared at him, moving his arm away after getting jabbed, but then his eyebrows raised when he saw his best friend pull out a gold ingot from his inventory. Then he understood what you meant and hurried to look through his inventory as well. Thankfully he did have some gold ingots leftover from when he was crafting golden apples.

Azo perked up when she saw the gold ingot Tubbo had taken from his inventory. And when he offered it to her she couldn’t hold back the happy snort she let out as she joyfully accepted it. You giggled at how she admired the saffron colored bar. And when Tommy extended his own gold ingot you laughed when Azo’s little tail began to swish back and forth in glee as she took that one too. She looked so cute as she admired her new items. You rubbed her back and said,

“See? They’re pretty nice, right? Why don’t we go have something to eat? And we can hang out.”

The tiny piglin seemed more than happy with that plan and snorted happily. You carried her towards the house, her little friends having long since scurried off. The teens behind you followed your lead, joining you in the house. You sat Azo down and suggested she show off her toys to Tubbo and Tommy, which she started doing gladly. The two played with her while you brewed some tea and crafted some cookies. Chilled rosehip tea and shortbread cookies were on the menu and after it was all done you laid it out on the table before calling them over. The boys were all too happy for the chilly drink, the cold giving them reprieve from the heat of the Nether. But Azo was shocked by the cold, not having experienced something like this before. It took a bit of explanation to get her to give it a try, and despite how it made her shiver she seemed to really like it. And cookies were always popular. So the plate was emptied in a flash.

As you sat with the three, listening to Tommy brag to Azo about how ‘cool and tough’ he was and how he’s practically a hero in the Overworld while Tubbo interjected with contradictions, you felt yourself smile serenely; truly happy where you were right then.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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