#(the mortifying ordeal of letting someone in probably)

[pinayelf]

lmao I already have a modern au for biyavrin (in case the ending is sad and I need a happy universe lol)

biyaya is a preschool teacher and the principal of the school seems to have it out for her. her senior, strife, tends to get frustrated at her emotion-driven solutions to things

her best friend and roommate is bellara, who is an arcane scientist (thedas version of physics). her methods are deemed too out of left field by her peers and things are tense in her work too

so the gals are not doing too well lmao

biyaya wants to quit but she loves her students too much. on career day, the principal chews her out for something that isn't her fault. she has a mental breakdown (lmao 😔) in the faculty room

and just as she comes out, she walks into (like LITERALLY walks into because she's not looking at where she's going) Davrin, a volunteer firefighter, who's there for career day. he's also a zoologist (for griffons), but the principal thought the zoologist part would be too "boring"

he's HANDSOME AS HELL and she just embarrassed herself with her puffy eyes lmao

so that's the meet cute

[evievigilant]

sorta wanna try my hand at fanfiction sorta don’t hmm

[writing-for-life]

The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known

Or: Does Morpheus really have commitment issues?

[Bear with me, I’ll get to this panel 🤣]

I’ve read many times that Morpheus supposedly has commitment issues, and it always has me scratching my head a bit…

I personally rather think he is desperate to commit. He so badly craves a serious relationship that he is prone to rush into it and build it on wonky foundations, but he has certainly no commitment issues as we would commonly understand them.

Is it in his nature though to be truly seen and understood when he is [a] Dream? And can dreams ever last? These are the much more interesting questions in my view. Let’s have a look at the romantic relationships we know of…

Killalla: Walked out on him. That wasn’t his lack of commitment. If anything, he came on a bit strong while she was still assessing her feelings for him.

Alianora: He fully committed to her despite basically being bullied into it by Desire. And they were happy for “a goodly while”. For those in doubt: “Goodly” doesn’t mean “a bit”. It means “great, large, long.” And the fact that Alianora couldn’t go back to her own plane because she had stayed in the Dreaming too long corroborates that they were together for a long time. Probably longer than any human relationship ever lasts, because I doubt “a long time” means “a couple of years” for someone who is 12 billion years old.

And now I’ll sandwich the relationship we hardly know anything about between some random (?) panels to also make a point why I think it might sit here in the timeline…

Titania: Who knows. Sounded like an affair, and as if they both had no intention of committing. He was clearly very fond of her though, and I can never shake the feeling that we should look a bit deeper into AMND and find the parallels between Auberon, Titania (not hard, and they are pretty much pictured as estranged) and Bottom. There are many ways to get confused with a jackass, you know? 🤣 Plus, Bottom is the one who gets to play Pyramus in “Pyramus and Thisbe”. That’s the ultimate blueprint for “Romeo and Juliet”: Ill-fated love of catastrophic proportions, people are dead by the end of it. That’s why I often wondered if the affair with Titania was actually pre-Nada, and the inspiration for Shakespeare wasn’t random (it wasn’t random for The Tempest either). I mean, it wasn’t random anyway because it was a parting gift, but I also don’t think it was entirely random with regard to their relationship. Wild head-canon of course, but maybe not that wild (he also says that Wendel’s Mound was already a theatre before humans walked the earth, so there’s that)? And even if he wasn’t committed (we quite frankly don’t know if he intended to but she didn’t or couldn’t), she and the Fae meant enough to him to give them a play as a parting gift.

Nada: Killed herself after one night, but that wasn’t down to lack of commitment on his part. Again: If anything, he came on far too strong, wanted to be with her and was far too pushy about it.

Calliope: We don’t know how long they were together before they had Orpheus. Could have been a while, could have been only a shortish time. But even if we assumed they had him fairly quickly—they were still together when Orpheus, who was mortal, got married to Eurydice, so even if he got married young, we’re still talking something in the realm of +/- 20 years, and that’s the absolute low-ball-estimate. And while they had started to drift apart (considering what we know from Calliope), they were still on good terms and had no intention of splitting up until the whole Orpheus drama caused a rift they couldn’t mend. Again: That’s not someone who has commitment issues. It’s a relationship breaking down over hurt, stubbornness and grief.

Thessaly: Again, she was the one who left him and caused his dramatic interlude in the rain. Were they ill suited? Yes. Did she feel neglected and went into a strop over it? Yes. Did he not get that she felt neglected? Also yes, but that’s not lack of commitment. That’s his not getting that people aren’t mind readers (must be hard if you’re probably one yourself 🤣) and, by and large, need assurances of love. He doesn’t get that these women don’t understand they have his love; he can’t grasp that line of thinking because it is all so clear to him when he loves someone: They have him, what’s the issue? Is that a not so great way of (not) communicating when you’re having a relationship to someone? Absolutely. Is it a commitment issue though? Absolutely not.

I think Morpheus doesn’t really have commitment issues in romantic relationships—wouldn’t that almost be antithetical to his nature? Rules and responsibilities. Yeah, about that one…

What I do think is that he struggles with the mortifying ordeal of being (not) known by his lovers. Because how could he? He is Dream. That is his problem. Dreams cannot be fully known or understood. He is very eloquent but at the same time a very… confusing communicator. I don’t want to say “bad”, because I feel that’s not getting to the bottom of it. Again, it is the nature of dreams to be confusing and strange, open to (mis)interpretation, hard to grasp and understand. And they also stop being dreams once they become real. All of that is true and hence makes relationships both hard for him and those involved. Is he truly not willing to commit though?

I still find that hard to believe…

[buddierecs]

break up/make up buddie fics

this list has different rated fics, so please look at the rating (no explicit tho) make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

let the golden hour wash through the room by: hattalove "in which there is a breakup, a doorway, and four years of building a life." word count: 2k rating: teen and up audiences important tags: post-break up, getting back together, ex-lovers after the fire, after all the rain by: wenttoafortuneteller "two weeks after eddie breaks up with buck, a storm traps the two of them together." word count: 5.6k rating: teen and up important tags: post-break up, angst, the mortifying ordeal of being known, getting back together i'll feel you forget me like i used to feel you breathe

by: turningthepages

"just another hollywood amnesia story the fandom probably didn't need but lived in my head rent free for too long." word count: 128k rating: mature important tags: married!buddie, car accidents, hurt/comfort, family feels, insecure!evan buckley, future fic in the cracks of lights (i dreamed of you) by: cuddlyobrien "a month after buck breaks up with eddie, he’s trapped underneath rubble with a life threatening injury and asking to speak to eddie over the radio." word count: 4k rating: mature important tags: near death experiences, post-break up, dispatcher!eddie diaz when it comes back to you by: giselleslash "the one where eddie and buck meet when they work together on eddie’s uncle’s ranch, and again when eddie walks into the 118 eight years later." word count: 21k rating: mature important tags: different first meeting au, first love, internalised homophobia, emotional hurt/comfort, soft!buddie, boys in love, past and present timelines all these broken hearts, but mine's the one bleeding by: smilingbuckley "buck figures out a new step-parent struggle when he has to discipline christopher, and the boy tells him buck isn't his father. this causes buck to spiral, thinking christopher disagrees with buck being his step-parent, so he breaks up with eddie even though he's madly in love with him. what he doesn't realize is that chris is becoming a teenager, and teenagers say stupid shit like that when they're angry at their parents." word count: 5k rating: mature important tags: miscommunication, emotional hurt/comfort, fighting, step parenting freedom ain't nothing but missing you by: justhockey "it was a gentle love, so warm that buck couldn’t ever fully believe that he deserved it. so he had to go and ruin it, because that’s all buck is good for, all he knows how to do." word count: 4.7k rating: not rated important tags: insecure!evan buckley, protective!eddie diaz, emotional hurt/comfort, idiots in love i was getting kinda used to being someone you loved by: zashizawa "eddie and buck break up and find their way back to each other." word count: 2.7k rating: not rated important tags: angst, hurt/comfort, hurt!eddie diaz, crying, getting back together my words are paper tigers by: hattalove "buck breaks up with eddie, even if it means losing a part of himself, because it's the right thing to do. the universe decides to test that conviction." word count: 19k rating: teen and up important tags: time loop, pining, angst, temporary character death, emotional hurt/comfort, happy ending home by: bccalling "nine weeks after he and eddie ended things, buck finds the ring. post break-up au." word count: 2.8k rating: teen and up important tags: post-break up, angst with happy ending, TW: suicidal thoughts, self-hatred

waiting room (two part fic) by: goforeddie "buck and eddie break up, buck and eddie make up" word count: 2.8k rating: general audiences important tags: emotional hurt, boys in love, angst, pining, getting back together without you by: orphan_account "a buddie sweet home alabama au" word count: 43k rating: mature important tags: exes to lovers, married buddie, falling in love again, jealous!evan buckley, hurt/comfort, getting back together

[buckybarnesss]

Lurker now follower here, hi hi, I love your blog and all your insights and thoughts on Teen Wolf and Sterek!! I just finished a rewatch and then immediately started over from the beginning because I am Unwell 😂😂😂

I’m on episode one and I gotta say it’s pretty hilarious how Stiles immediately recognizes Derek. Like, I can only imagine how obsessed he was with the fire and the Hale family, and now Derek is back!!

I don’t really have more coherent thoughts on this, just my brain going BRRRRR so yea lol 😂😂

hi! welcome!

i know we all joke about how stiles immediately knows it's derek hale that he and scott run into because it is funny. like stiles baby. honey. the signs were there.

i've always gotten the impression the fire is something stiles remembers very, very well.

the hale fire changed beacon hills. the hales had been there since the town's foundation. they were a well off, prominent family. there was reason to suspect arson. multiple children died and the only known survivors were two barely adult children and a severely burned, comatose man.

laura and derek were high schoolers. cora was eleven years old and presumed dead.

we're told the only thing left recognizable of talia hale were her claws.

it's the definition of a tragedy.

not to think of the supernatural repercussions to the vacuum left behind.

stiles would've been about 10 when the fire occurred which is young but old enough to understand the severity of such an event. especially as the child of the sheriff.

he probably saw how it weighed on his father and had a healthy dose of morbid curiosity. he may have even have knew cora hale in that passive way you know other kids in your school even if you don't know them personally. one day there and the next dead. for someone like stiles who gets hyper-focused on things and has a lot of anxiety stemming from the death of his mother i can easily imagine how his mind didn't let it go.

meeting derek in person created a hyperfixation so intense and so unhinged it led to him recognizing teen derek hale at 50 paces or less in a mexican desert several years later.

as he got to know derek he unlocked the layered tragic backstory stiles really became derek's secret keeper.

and it is only stiles that gets these pieces of the puzzle that is derek hale. he's the one who goes through the hale fire files, he's the one who pieced together that kate argent preyed on a young derek and he knows about paige.

i find it interesting choice to have only stiles know these things about derek. scott never learns of these things that could possibly make him more empathetic towards derek. the writers don't use it that way.

especially because stiles learning these things never goes anywhere overt. it's all in the subtext of the relationship between derek and stiles.

like, stiles learns about paige and he does nothing with this information but we do see him with tears in his eyes over it. he doesn't ever learn that paige's death gave power to the nemeton either. jennifer only tells derek that.

he knows all of this about derek and never tells anyone. he only ever alludes to knowing about kate one time and it's in the overlooked when he gets in derek's face. i'm unsure derek's even aware stiles knows about paige. stiles carries all these secrets about derek and he never uses it against him. instead he continues to keep coming back again and again and again for derek.

more importantly he understands derek and what is love but the mortifying ordeal of being known.

that all said stiles is absolutely unhinged about derek and derek does nothing to curb this by the way. if it bothered him he'd stop it but they are freak4freak so derek probably finds it charming even if he puts up a few token protests just to bait stiles.

[stephsycamore]

Hello friends. Yet another post on a topic literally no one here signed up for but the blog is about my hyperfixation of the month so here we are

I have been reading dramione. I know in my last post i said i was ki da over dramione after a couple of fics because i find the pairing too toxic but i only kinda lied because i have just reread the like 4 dramione fics i found and liked and now i will review them. Technically i have read/started more than 4 but i won't be commenting on fics i didn't like because that isn't fair to the writers.

The first one was manacled. Which i know what a fucking reintroduction to the fandom. But i am no young newbie. I used to read and rewrite A LOT of harry potter fic and while its still fuck jk rowling, she doesn't financially benefit from fic and i heard years ago that she doesn't like fic so. I hope its all a big fuck u to her.

Anyway, manacled. Wow!!! What the fuck???? It has lived rent free in my head ever since. I literally cannot stop thinking about it. If ever i reentered the harry potter fic world let it be known that it would be so i can write fanfic of this fanfic. A couple points - manacled is kinda overly long and would benefit from an editor/beta reader, but I heard senlinyu wrote it on her phone while nursing a baby and just???? Idk what her day job is, but that woman needs to be doing creative writing mfas, writers workshops, residencies, whatever. That is extraordinary creative talent.

I think the first part with hermione in the manor was a bit overly long and too torture porn ish. A lot of the scenes bordered into the unnecessarily gratituous. But overall, it was well plotted, well written, and gut wrenching. The last section takes my breath away

The second fic i read was Remain Nameless. And while i kinda don't love smut (it makes me a little uncomfy) i think remain nameless is a perfrct example of fanfic as a genre. Within fic, there are obviously genres, but there are stylistic elements and things that I think makes fanfiction a genre in itself. Remain Nameless is an exploration of character that goes beyond the confines of conventional or traditionally publish-able story structure. It is too long, too drawn out, too indulgent to be a traditionally published story. If i swap out the names and details in Manacled or Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in love (up next) out, its a probably close to a stand alone novel, but Remain Nameless relies on you knowing and already caring about Draco and Hermione. I don't mean that disparagingly at all, I just think sometimes people don't realize that fanfic should be different from traditionally published novels and that is a benefit of the genre. I think Remain Nameless is great. Its an indulgent, fluffy read that takes two broken people and slowly puts them back together again. Its like a hug in book format.

My next one is DMATMOOBIL!! I loved this one. And the author??? You cannot convince me that this fic was not written by someone with literal years of publishing experience in contemporary romance. No way. Its too good. Not just in a good writing way. Manacled is good in an unfiltered, raw talent way, but DMATMOOBIL is polished. The plot is perfectly structured and then each chapter within that is perfectly structured. I loved it. It wad witty, funny, heartfelt, and exciting. Not sure what more I can say about it. It reads like published fiction both in its polish and readability, and I think of all the fics I read has the best worldbuilding. It is truly exciting to read about the possibilities of magical and muggle science colliding in this book and bringing their world to the 21st century.

The last fic i read was Green Light by SereneMusafir. I thought it was so good but would benefit from being split into two maybe even three books. Green Light features a journalist coming to interview Draco many years after the events of the book, so that kinda complicates splitting it up, but as it stands, the story parts are too vast and thematically disparate to be one book. The first part has Draco and Hermione on an expedition in the desert to find a archeological myth and the writing is extraoridinary. Its poetic and cinematic. But I think at times it all tries to do too much. Like I said, the whole thing needs to be split up but each chapter also needs to be a bit shorter. Again, I don't mean cutting content, but rather restructuring. As it is, I read an incredible scene, but then there's like 5 more scenes of something else, and by the time I'm at the end of the chapter, I've kinda forgotten what amazing prose I read earlier on. Things get lost in this way. Beautiful passages buried.

I think two or three books would also allow each thematic section to be explored better. Idk i thought about this one a lot. I likely will not reread Green Light the way I have reread the others on this list, but other than Manacled, it is the one I think about most. Its the most ambitious plot wise and it kinda got lost in that ambition but I think it has so much potential and was over all very good.

Anyway. That is the end to this book review no one asked for. I will likely not be reading more dramione. So here ends that brief of excellent phase.

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

what do you think was the moment that yuuji and megumi realised that they liked the other? which one of them made the first move? what would tsumiki’s opinion be of yuuji?

Let’s start with the easy one—Tsumiki would love Yuuji.

She’d be unspeakably thrilled Megumi found someone, and she’d love Yuuji for who he is anyway. He’s a good person. He has a great heart. And he genuinely cares about her brother. Yuuji and Tsumiki would be so disgustingly close. Megumi would be on the phone with Tsumiki and Yuuji would be like “is that my best friend???? Let me talk to her! Bestieee” And vice versa.

As to when they first realized they liked each other, I think Megumi borderline always knew.

I think Megumi is someone who is very self aware with what he’s feeling and has absolutely negative ability to actually address that. He knew before they went to the detention center that he liked Yuuji in a sort of vague, low level kind of way.

Like, was it love? No, they’d only just met. But Yuuji was genuinely kind and good. Megumi liked spending time with him. He was Strong and Fast in a way that made Megumi learn things about himself that he did not fucking know before.

I think that megumi very very rarely likes people, and that he probably never dated in pre-canon. So he wasn’t really prepared for liking Yuuji or planning to act on this.

It was in no way actionable information. Confess? Absolutely not. Experience the mortifying ordeal of being known? Ludicrous. Clown idea. He’ll put all these feelings down somewhere small and then one day he’ll die.

I think he regretted it after Yuuji died. I think a part of him wished he had told him, even if they would have never had time.

I think Yuuji didn’t even know he liked guys until he liked Megumi.

If I’m being silly (and being in the sea glass gardens universe), he didn’t realize until Nobara pointed out that his violent jealousy towards Okkotsu Yuuta, gods perfect man, regarding his relationship with Megumi was not a totally straight experience that he liked Megumi and it crippled him for days. He kept laying on the floor of Nobaras room and having baby’s first gay crisis. Nobara was ready to put him down like a sick dog.

If I’m being more serious, I’d like to think that Yuuji realized he liked Megumi during one of their softer moments together.

I think it was nothing of note. They were watching a movie together. Megumi made a dry, tiny joke that was par for the course when it came to his humor, and Yuuji thought to himself man, I love him. And he realized he didn’t just mean it the way he usually means it for his friends.

He didn’t realize how much he liked him until it already happened. Then he was in it, and he couldn’t get out again.

Then he kept lying on the floor of Nobara’s room having baby’s first gay crisis and she was ready to put him down like a sick dog.

I think that the one who made the first move would actually heavily depend on circumstance. I think Yuuji’s more like to make the first move in peacetime, but megumi’s more likely to do it when they’re in the heat of the moment/verge of death.

Yuujis a bit better with emotions than Megumi. He’s got that little bit extra bit of confidence that would let him do it behind the school, to risk it for the sake of having more. But megumi’s already had to live with the regret of not telling Yuuji once before. I think he’s the one most likely to let it all out in the heat of the moment and pick up the pieces after.

[corrodedbisexual]

Communication is key

Steddie | M | ~4.7k | AO3 link

Featuring: Fluff, POV Alternating, Developing Relationship, Sharing Clothes, Self-Discovery, Insecurity, Communication, Dom/sub Undertones, Non-Sexual Submission, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Tickling, Laughter, Boys Kissing, Cuddling, Soft dom Steve Harrington, Inexperienced Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is Steve Harrington's good boy

Eddie takes a deep breath, reminds himself that he survived nearly becoming dinner for a swarm of bloodthirsty demobats. He can do this. “How much do you know about BDSM, Steve?” The boys brave through the mortifying ordeal of discussing their newfound sex dynamic.

By popular request in the comments, a non-smutty part 3 of Steve Harrington's unexpected soft dom awakening is here 🥰 (with a promise of more smut to come because what can I do... they live in my brain now)

***

Steve’s not sure how long they’ve been lying there quietly, on his couch, tangled together underneath the blanket. Eddie’s still half on top of him, head tucked underneath Steve’s chin. Steve can feel the boy’s slightly damp breaths on his skin. 

He’s heavy, but it’s not an unpleasant weight. Comfortable. Grounding. Steve could really get used to this; and it's not just that he's been feeling terribly touch-starved lately. He's not so desperate as to be jumping at the first opportunity of cuddling with someone. But with Eddie... it feels kind of perfect. And there's something about him, about how Steve felt being intimate with him, that makes him want to wrap his arms around the boy and never let him out of his sight again. It's probably not healthy to suddenly feel so dangerously possessive of someone after a couple of orgasms. Right?

Lost in his own thoughts, Steve assumes Eddie has drifted off; until he hears his voice, quiet, uncertain behind the humorous bravado.

“You freaking out yet, or should I wait a few more minutes?”

Steve frowns. 

“What do you mean?”

The weight lifts off his chest; Eddie shifts, tries to roll onto his back and yelps, losing his balance on the edge of the couch. Luckily, Steve’s reflexes are quick enough to catch him by the waist and pull him back in.

“My savior,” Eddie giggles in his face. 

“You’re welcome,” Steve replies, grinning, a bit stunned by the boy’s shy smile in front of him. It’s really pretty. Not the kind he usually shows in public, teasing and making fun of everyone and everything around him, although Steve wouldn’t call him not pretty when he does that either. But it’s these soft, unreserved smiles directed right at him keep doing funny things to Steve’s stomach. Kind of like being at the top of a rollercoaster, anticipating the big drop. 

He shifts as deep into the couch as he can, rolling onto his side so there’s enough space for Eddie to lie on his back next to him. 

Steve watches the side of his face for a moment. Eddie really is genuinely attractive, he thinks; kind of baffling how girls in school were always chasing after some of his jock ex-friends, at least half of whom, to be fair, didn’t offer much to look at, when Eddie was right there. Although from what Steve has put together over the past week, without Eddie explicitly saying it out loud, he likely wouldn’t care much for their attentions.  

“So… you were saying..?” He nudges Eddie’s foot with his own.

Eddie’s eyes dart towards him, then back up to the ceiling. He throws an arm behind his neck, resting his head on it; thankfully, it’s the one closer to the edge of the couch, or he probably would have accidentally elbowed Steve in the face. 

“I mean…” He looks uncertain, struggling with his words. “You hooked up with a guy. Twice now. That doesn’t bother you?”

Right. Steve has been expecting that question sooner or later. He’s not sure what he would have said if Eddie had asked him a week ago; luckily, he’s had time to think about it. He had a suspicion guys don’t normally rank other guys around them on their attractiveness. 

“Bother is probably the wrong word. It’s… different.” Steve rests his palm on Eddie’s chest, fingers brushing through the rare hairs there; Eddie’s not as hairy as himself, but it’s still there, one of many reminders the naked body next to him isn’t a girl’s. And that’s not a bad thing. It is different. Still hot, though. 

Steve looks up and meets Eddie’s eyes; his eyebrows are raised, like he expects Steve to elaborate. 

“Look, I don’t know what to tell you," Steve says honestly, shrugging with one shoulder, the one not currently trapped between couch cushions. “I wish I could say I meditated on this for five hours and came up with some striking revelation. I didn’t.”

Eddie chuckles, head rolling back again. He watches Steve’s hand trace random patterns on his chest, looking pensive; Steve can’t tell what Eddie might be thinking. He wishes he could be more reassuring. Better at saying words, putting what he’s feeling into them. He’s never been good at that. 

His hand drifts to the edge of Eddie’s chest, dips into his armpit. The hair’s longer and thicker there, where girls would usually shave it clean. Because they are supposed to, apparently. Steve remembers locker room talk, some guys laughing at a girl in their class whose biggest crime was walking around with hairy armpits. He found it kind of hypocritical; what’s wrong with girls having hair in places where it naturally grows? 

He idly runs his fingers through the hairs, brushing the soft skin underneath, and Eddie squirms. 

“Hey. I’m ticklish, and I kick.”

“Sorry,” Steve grins, moving his hand back to Eddie’s chest. “Got distracted.”

“By my pit hair? ” Eddie stares at him, eyebrows up to his fringe. 

“Everything about you is distracting,” Steve replies earnestly. 

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters under his breath, turning away, failing to conceal his goofy smile. “Still not sure how I stumbled into this parallel universe in which Ste-e-eve Harrington finds me distracting, but you won’t hear me complaining, I guess.”

Steve snorts.

“We’re all in a parallel universe now, dude. Somewhere out there, there’s a version of me that… I don’t know, is off to college or something. Maybe hasn’t fucked things up with Nance. But I’m here, and… well. Life’s kind of insane here.” 

Steve wraps his arm around Eddie and settles more comfortably against him. He looks at one of the jagged scars above his hip, bigger and rougher than Steve’s own. Proofs that their nightmares are real. 

“So you ask me if this bothers me, and…” He chuckles. “You know what, I’d probably be bothered if I was suddenly attracted to demogorgons. Or Vecna.”

“Ew.” Eddie wrinkles his nose.

“Exactly. This, though? I don’t know. Feels normal. And the sex is… yeah, we should probably talk about it, but, I mean. Wow.” He mimes mind blown, then grins, seeing Eddie��s face. “You’re so fucking cute when you blush.”

“I have a feeling I’m gonna be doing that a lot with you around.” Eddie sighs, but he looks genuinely amused more than embarrassed.

“Feel free to, anytime,” Steve grins, leaning in to kiss Eddie. Just to check that he can, and… with the way Eddie opens up to him right away, yeah. He totally can. 

And he meant it, they should have a conversation about the rest of it, because honestly, while he’s not that weirded out by being attracted to Eddie, it’s… certain things he feels, when they’re intimate, that confuse him. But maybe they should get dressed for that, actually, because he’s not sure if he can keep that conversation going with Eddie’s naked body leaning into him under the blanket. 

Besides… he’s actually kind of hungry. And he needs to pee.

“Hey,” he says, pulling back from Eddie’s lips; Eddie’s eyelids flutter before he opens his eyes, looking a bit dazed. Steve’s grumbling stomach gives him just enough willpower not to push the man into the cushions and ravage him. “You hungry?”

“Uh. Yeah, I guess, I could eat.”

“Okay, come on then.” Steve runs his knuckles softly across Eddie’s cheek. “I’ll make us something.”

“I’m gonna need to borrow some clean boxers.” Eddie’s eyes dart down, at his own skull-patterned boxers peeking above Steve's waistline. “Quid pro quo, I guess.”

Steve smiles, sitting up and scrambling off the couch. He’s still wearing his jeans, but Eddie’s mostly naked, trying to wrap the blanket around himself like a makeshift toga.

“What, you suddenly shy?” Steve grins at him teasingly. 

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“No, I just look fucking ridiculous with my dick hanging out and my socks still on.”

“So lose the socks,” Steve jokes, finding his own T-shirt behind the couch and tugging it on, then turning and heading towards the stairs. 

Grumbling something under his nose, like ‘Jesus fucking Christ’ and ‘will be the death of me’, Eddie picks up his own clothes, scattered all around the living room; then, he follows Steve upstairs, stepping on the edges of the blanket and stumbling every few steps.

  The rest on AO3

[cookies-over-yonder]

they hate my disabled demonic swag

CO-WRITTEN BY @silverlistenstothings

Being a cane user in high school, Taylor's gotten some... interesting comments, but it hasn't come up in a while, so when it does, well... It pisses him off.

Part 18 of The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Roommates

ao3

There are many things that are different about attending Teen High now that everything is over, but to Taylor's misfortune, some things remain the same.

Taylor is standing against the wall at the cafeteria waiting for Normal, Link, and Scary to meet up with him for lunch. He's always the first there, since his class ends a little earlier than theirs.

The Path of the Wind is playing in his headphones while he waits. It's calming, and reminds him of the catbus. Ah, he misses it… hopefully it's doing well.

Someone taps his shoulder, and he flinches, then slides his headphones off to see who's there.

It's not a friend, it's a teacher—no, an educational assistant. They usually help disabled kids in their classes.

"Taylor?" they ask, and their voice sounds familiar. There's a chance they worked at Taylor's elementary school before, because why else would they recognize him? Taylor's blanking on the name though, not that it really matters—why are they talking to him anyway?

"Um. In the flesh," he says, not with his usual boldness, because he still isn't sure why he's being spoken to.

"Why do you have a cane?"

…

…

Huh?

"Uh, 'cause I have chronic pain," Taylor answers, and the words are dry on his tongue. It's not the first time, but it's been a while.

"Oh, what kind of pain? Where is it?" they ask, leaning in too close, and looking at him in such an invasive way as if trying to formulate a diagnosis right then and there.

"My limbs and my back?"

It's not a question, but it comes out like one anyway because why are they asking him this —

"You know, I know someone else who…"

The rest of their words all blend together to Taylor. Something about 'oh I wonder if it's this' and 'you should try exercising more' and oh, his nails are definitely digging into his palms now, and where the fuck is the escape from this conversation—

"Ah, well, I'm sorry, you poor thing," they say, rubbing his arm, and a split-second later, when Taylor pulls away, a frown forms on their face. It's not unlike the expression he's gotten from teachers in the past, but this one makes him feel violent.

And then they walk away. And Taylor lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Jesus fucking christ.

"Taylor!" Normal calls, he's with Link and Scary, and soon they're all right by him discussing whether to buy food from the caf or share Link's packed lunch like yesterday.

"Hey, you okay?" Link asks, putting a hand on his shoulder. The touch feels like whatever the opposite of icky is. Nice, probably. Calming.

"I'm good, just…" Taylor glances around. The interrogator is still there, wandering around tables. Probably not within earshot, but still. "I'll tell you later, okay?"

"Okay," Link says, moving his arm to wrap around Taylor's shoulders while they walk to find a vacant table.

Taylor's breathing is heavy with frustration, but he makes an effort to steady it lest it progress into something worse.

✿

When Taylor gets home, Hermie isn't on the first floor. They're probably in their room?

Taylor needs to tell them about today. He didn't get a chance to relay the whole story to Link earlier and he feels he might explode, or start biting things—probably start biting things, actually—if he doesn't get the chance to complain.

Taylor runs up the stairs and knocks on the door. "Hermie!"

" Whaaat. "

Taylor opens the door. Hermie is half-sitting half-lying on their bed with their arms crossed over their chest, looking up at him with half lidded eyes.

"Thank you for being normal," Taylor says, closing the door.

"I'm Hermie," they say, closing their eyes.

"No—no, I mean—thank you for being normal about me having a cane ."

"Uh oh."

"What?"

"What happened?" Hermie asks, crossing their legs and sitting up at attention.

"Okay, I was waiting for Normal, Link, and Scary in the caf and then some random person approached me," Taylor starts, pacing back and forth beside Hermie's bed.

"Student?" Hermie asks, narrowing their eyes. They tilt their head as they continue to watch Taylor, as if weighing some options Taylor isn’t privy to.  

"No."

"Okay.”

They sound a bit disappointed, but Taylor decides not to question it, caught up as he is in his own frustration.

"It was an educational assistant that I think I recognized from elementary school? I'm not sure. I don't fucking know—just—they came up to me out of nowhere and asked me why I have a cane, and I was like 'cause I have chronic pain, but then they kept asking fucking questions!" Taylor throws his free hand in the air and sucks in a breath before continuing.

"Like—like they asked where the pain is, and what do I even say to that? 'Oh, yeah, it's fucking everywhere'!? And, oh my god, Hermie, they started trying to fucking—fucking figure out what it is. Last I checked that wasn't anyone else's fucking business? And I—I just stood there being inspected , I'm fucking— ugh! "

Taylor can feel his nails dig into his palm again, but god, his head is on fire right now.

"And you know what happened next? You know what they said? 'You poor thing.' "

Hermie scoffs, but Taylor can tell the anger isn’t directed at him. They do seem angry though, and Taylor feels a little vindicated by that reaction. Not enough to do much about his own anger, though.

"They said they're sorry . Sorry? I was just minding my own business, vibing , mind you, to my music while waiting for my friends and they think they can just randomly approach me like that? What the actual fuck!?"

“That’s fucked,” Hermie says helpfully, patting the bed beside them.

Taylor doesn’t really want to sit down, still vibrating with frustration, but it’s probably best if he does. He falls backwards onto their bed, grabbing a pillow and putting it over his face to muffle a frustrated yell. Hermie pats his leg comfortingly.

“Get that pillow off your face before you suffocate. Deep breaths, Taylor.”

There’s a brief flash of instinctual anger, don’t tell me to calm down, I’m angry and I have the right to be, but he knows Hermie is right. He throws the pillow to the side, and takes a sharp breath in—drawing the heels of his hands to dig into his shut eyes and clawing at his hair with his nails—and lets it out as another frustrated groan.

Hermie waits for him to calm down some before continuing.

“I know I don’t have to tell you that your anger is justified, so let’s just skip over that part,” Hermie starts, and their own tone is a bit tense as well, their tail tapping a frustrated rhythm against the mattress between them. “I think next time someone asks, you should tell them to fuck off. Or, I suppose, if it’s an EA that could get you in trouble, you can just tell them you need it, no explanation necessary. If they continue to press it, I think you could hardly be blamed for resorting to violence.”

Taylor brings his hands down from his face, and something about the frustration in Hermie's tone in Taylor's honour paired with the advice makes him, despite the heat of anger still coursing through him, crack a small smile. "Are you saying I should attack them?"

“I would never say that,” Hermie says, faux-offended with a hand dramatically placed over their chest. “I’m just saying, you have a weapon,” they gesture at his cane, “and if you did, you could hardly be blamed… and I’m sure the others would cover for you.”

The adrenaline rush has mostly dissipated, which means Taylor is left to feel the aches all over his body. It always worsens when he gets riled up. Attacking people being intrusive does seem like it'd be rather satisfying. "You really think I could get away with… nah, I can't do that." Taylor chuckles. "Sounds fun though. Oh, but I will definitely be telling people to fuck off," he says, stretching his arms out and flipping off the ceiling, and then he shouts: " Fuck you! "

“That’s the spirit,” Hermie says with a small, satisfied smile. “And if anyone really gives you trouble for it, I’m sure Chaparral wouldn’t miss me if I skipped a day to join you at Teen High instead. You might be above resorting to violence, but I am not.”

Taylor bites his lip, but he's grinning even harder. There's something about Hermie threatening violence for Taylor that makes him giddy.

And grateful.

He brings his arms back down—they're aching even more from being thrown up like that but whatever, it was worth it—and he rests one hand on his chest. He extends the other out toward Hermie and wiggles his fingers a little.

Hermie eyes his hand suspiciously for a moment, glancing from it to his face and back, before cautiously placing their hand in Taylor’s as if expecting a trap. They don’t seem too genuinely worried though, eyes still amused even if they’re not smiling anymore.

Taylor tightens his grip on Hermie's hand. It's warm and sweaty and reassuring. Then his eyes fall shut.

It’s quiet for a while, before Hermie lets out a long sigh and squeezes Taylor’s hand.

“Alright, come on, you don’t want to fall asleep like that,” Hermie says, tugging at his hand gently as they return their pillows to their rightful places and gesture for Taylor to lay down beside them.

Taylor does so, and he curls up against Hermie with their hands still interlocked. His head is on their chest, and Hermie is warm, and so is Taylor; they both tend to run hot, which doesn't seem like it'd be great on paper, but in actuality, it's quite comforting.

The rise and fall of Hermie’s chest is slow and even, and Taylor’s eyes quickly fall shut again. The last thing he feels before drifting off to sleep is Hermie’s tail curling protectively around him. 

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

Now that The Hedgehog's Dilemma is officially complete and posted, it's time for some housekeeping! List of sections under the read more because it turned out very long:

the sappy bit where I say thank you

overview of part 2, aka the fluffy sequel

side stories in the same universe (you can make a request!)

tagging, updates, and extremely tentative timeline

Also: to the person who sent a rose to my inbox a few days ago — I do accept them and you'll be getting the inaugural rose snippet for the sequel!

1: The Sappy Bit Where I Say Thank You

As I've alluded to before, writing THD was a new experience in a lot of ways: it's my first and (currently) only fanfic, but also the first time I've written a character study or anything with such a focus on hurt/comfort and interpersonal relationships. It's also the first time I've written something that has a real audience — I come from the wilds of writing plotty fantasy/sci-fi original fic — and posting something that I knew would probably get some kind of reception was both exciting and terrifying. I appreciate everyone who has read, kudos'd, commented on, sent asks about, or otherwise interacted with the fic so much; you've all been lovely and I hope you enjoyed reading THD as much as I enjoyed writing it.

2: Flightless Birds (aka the Fluffy Sequel)

Flightless Birds, the second fic in the series Symbiosis, is set during the off-season between season 1 and season 2. Here's an overview of the main character arcs/plot threads (no spoilers for chapter 6):

Jamie: our boy is going through it slightly less than in part 1! With the James Tartt Sr. situation resolved, he spends the fic processing his trauma without the looming specter of his father's reappearance, which basically takes the form of 1) therapy, 2) looking after Roy post-injury, 3) extensive platonic cuddling (fun fact: I hadn't really written any cuddling scenes before THD and am not at all a cuddler in real life, so hopefully those bits are like. at least somewhat plausible), and 4) visiting his mom and Simon.

Roy: our boy is going through it slightly more than in part 1! (sorry, Roy) Like in canon, he's recovering physically from his knee injury and processing the end of his career, which is not great for those underlying self-worth issues. In addition to experiencing the mortifying ordeal of letting himself be cared for, he's also experiencing the mortifying (and for him, more upsetting) ordeal of not being able to care for others the way he wants to — the worst of his physical recovery coincides with the point where Jamie's very shaken and vulnerable from the events of chapter 6, and he basically has to contend with the fact that he not only needs to expand his own support network but that he can't be the entirety of Jamie's support network.

Keeley: our girl has been upgraded to main character! She moves in with Roy — and by extension, Jamie — and, as the only one of the three who's not freshly injured and/or traumatized, initially ends up with a lot of the caretaking work. This is a problem because a) Keeley needs her space and has trouble expressing her needs at the best of times, and b) doesn't strike me as someone who has a particular inclination towards what I guess I'd call protracted caretaking — she can be really good at comforting people in the moment, but I think she panics a bit when it's a more serious situation that she doesn't know how to solve (like with Jamie's depressive spiral in 3x11) and prefers relationships — both romantic and platonic — where there's a decent degree of autonomy: everyone likes spending time together, but they can all also do their own thing. This is part of the catalyst for the aforementioned expanding of support networks.

A note on relationships: Roy and Keeley are technically dating but I'm very aromantic and have like. sub-zero interest in or knowledge of how to write romantic relationships, so in a reverse-shipper move, I'm going to write it as platonic. Whether or not the fact that I've hit everyone with the aro beam will be discussed in-text remains to be seen.

3: Side Stories

There are some POVs and events that happened off-screen and/or during the time skips that didn't make it into THD for a variety of reasons. I have vague plans to turn some of these into fics, such as: Ted's POV of the first couple of chapters before he became a main character; Nate's extremely complex feelings about the intersection of his and Jamie's trauma, his relationship with Ted, and the evolution of AFC Richmond that I couldn't figure out how to include in the main fic without making the whole thing feel a bit unfocused; and Jamie's probationary period with the team during the time skip between chapters 2 and 3. If there's anything you'd like me to write about in this universe, feel free to make a request!

4: Tagging, Updates, and Timeline

Posts about the series, including the individual fics, will be tagged as series: symbiosis (I am planning to go through my THD posts to add this tag, but no promises as to when that will happen)

Posts about individual fics will be tagged as fic: title; e.g. fic: the hedgehog's dilemma or fic: flightless birds

Timeline: I'm going to plot out all of part 2 before I start writing, which probably won't take a hugely long time. However, November is a bit of a busy month and I'm going to be fiddling around with different strategies for working on multiple fics at once — I'm excited to get started on part 2 but I also miss working on my original fiction project — so it might be a bit of a wait before I get that done. (If anyone has advice or techniques for doing this, send it my way! (only if you feel like it, of course))

Updates: I'll continue posting writing updates when I have them, and of course I'm always happy to answer asks or otherwise chat with people about the fic (or anything else)

[moghraidhs]

back on my terror/black sails soapbox (you should have realised you weren't going to hear the end of this) under the cut

jack/fitzjames. the two great pretenders. are they capable of being honest only with each other, or do they wear masks in private as well as in public? they're always pulling off something great by the skin of their teeth, and somehow it's never enough. will do amazing things to be seen.

sol/silver. it's a perpetual mystery to me how the most straightforward people become attracted to the biggest schemers (re: vane and eleanor), but perhaps it's nothing more simple than opposites attracting. sol fights to protect others and silver lies to protect himself, and yet they fall in love anyway. sol (grudgingly) admires how silver is ten steps ahead of everyone else and stands up for him, and silver gets to experience the mortifying ordeal of having someone actually care about him.

silna/madi. the definition of "some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them". madi is ready for her destiny while silna tries to escape it. they're both their fathers' daughters. very good at knowing what the other is thinking without needing to exchange words. quiet in all things: fear, grief, and loss - so when they love, that is quiet too, and just as unshakeable as they are.

blanky/gates. stories of the old days, of miles of ice and clear blue seas. bonding over good rum and foolish captains whom they genuinely care for. they're always there to back each other up, even when no one listens to them. will to live increases by 90% after meeting each other.

flint/ross. the fearsome pirate captain and the good-hearted idealist who cares more about his men than fame or money? they're a perfect match - even if they don't realise it at first. s1-s3 flint would fight his attraction all the way, because every time he looks at james he's reminded of thomas, and look how that ended. fortunately, james is just as stubborn as he is; once there's someone he loves he won't let go. they balance each other out well, and by s4 are definitely the sanest couple in nassau (mostly).

tommy/billy. it's about the implications. whatever happened to them in the past has made them what they are - the same and yet different. it made billy strong and serious (perhaps too much so) and loyal; it made tommy quiet and withdrawn and loyal. they don't talk about what happened, not even to each other, but they love just right in such a way that it doesn't really matter. basically "where you go, i go". they keep each other from falling.

sol/billy. loyal dog meets loyal dog. their shields are up, not to protect themselves, but those around them, and in so doing they leave themselves wide open and vulnerable. would and probably have killed for each other, and will do so again if necessary. combined anger and grief that is deadly when turned outwards. they have no secrets. a good hug would fix them both, i think.

tommy/vane. violent x soft, but with a twist. neither of them like uncertainties - when you grow up the way they have, you want to know where you're standing at all times. you also (in charles' case anyway) develop a soft spot for underdogs. tommy is loyal, he's good with a gun, and he does what he's told without asking questions. kind of likes it, to be honest. there are no games with these two, not ever. if charles ever allowed himself the luxury of vulnerability, its name would be tommy armitage.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

an inconvenient stabbing

Read on Ao3

Warnings: stabbing, blood loss

Pairings: live show court judges squad are actually best friends change my mind

Word Count: 2714

Spending long hours working at the Supreme Court isn't anything new for Judge Oh, and neither is going out for an emergency food run when she realizes she's missed dinner.

It is, however, the first time she sees someone about to be assaulted. She can't just sit back and watch.

Here’s what they don’t tell you about being stabbed. You don’t actually feel like you’ve been stabbed until you put your hand to the wound and it comes away red.

When the man slams his fist into Jinjoo’s side, her first thought is that she’s been punched. It knocks the wind out of her, sending her staggering slightly into the person next to her. She bares her teeth, snarls at them to know better than to try again as she shields the actual target. The man’s eyes widen as he turns tail, leaving the person behind her to stammer out her thanks.

“It’s alright, now,” Jinjoo says, “get somewhere safe, there might be more of them.”

“Thank you, Judge Oh, I will, thank you—“

“Hurry, inside now.” Jinjoo looks over her shoulder at the retreating man and quickly glances around. She can’t see anyone else; the worst of the danger appears to be past.

She raises a hand to her brow and brushes her hair back from her forehead. That’s funny, it’s more damp than she expected. She looks at her hand and her eyes widen.

She glances down. The front of her shirt is slightly sticking to her, a patch of red growing larger and larger.

Oh, she manages faintly, I’ve been stabbed.

As soon as she puts the pieces together, it starts to hurt. She winces, leaning against the wall as she covers it with her hand and pushes hard. Pressure, that’s how she won’t bleed out. The extra sensation makes her hiss through her teeth.

She’s not too far from the Supreme Court, she could make it there. Really, what she should do is call someone. Yes, that’s a good idea, let’s try that. She reaches for her phone only to find it dead. Well, there are probably many people between here and there, she can ask one of them for help.

The pain doesn’t lessen as she pushes herself off the wall and begins the trek to the Supreme Court. She holds her side as tight as she can bear as she walks, keeping the pained grunts as quiet as she can. She can make it.

There isn’t a single person that she can see.

It gets harder. Soon her arms are aching, both from the strain of propping her weight against the wall and from holding her side. She’s stopped trying to hold in the noises, instead they flow freely from her lips. Part of her is glad there aren’t any people around for this mortifying ordeal, the rest desperately wants someone to lean against, even if it’s just for a phone call.

The Supreme Court is still a block away.

By the time the white building makes it into view, she’s wincing with every step and she’s certain she’s never had this much trouble staying upright in her life. A sigh of relief tears out of her throat before she realizes that not only does she have to cross the street, there are no walls for her to lean against.

She looks down. Her hand is bloody, the fabric is rucked up and probably past the point of saving. Even as she stands still, the pain wells up and threatens to take her breath away. She looks back up.

She could wait here. Someone is bound to come at some point. But she’s so close and the call of her office where she has a charger and her other phone is louder than the pain.

Jinjoo raises her chin and pushes off the wall.

The first step she takes is fine. The second is a little harder. She’s gritting her teeth and swaying by the time she makes it to the middle of the road. The crosswalk sways under her feet like a bridge, threatening to dump her into the icy, unforgiving waters either side. She sways, staggers, tries valiantly to keep herself afloat.

The crossing is trailed in blood.

She wants to collapse to her knees the moment she reaches the other side, but the second her head inclines, she almost blacks out. No rest, then, not until she’s finished. She’s barely putting pressure on the wound anymore but she staggers to the door.

It feels like a horror movie. The white looms in front of her, unnaturally sterile, inhumanly cold. Jinjoo staggers closer, closer, until she can get her shoulder against the door and leave it open. She leaves a bloody smear across the threshold and feels a wall of shame rush over her. If she had blood to spare, she’s sure her face would be red.

What right does she have, she seethes quietly as she drags herself through the building, to sully this place with her blood? She’s poured herself into her work, into the spirit of this building, but now that her tracks are bright red against the polished floors…

She doesn’t have the strength to sob.

Her office. She has to make it to her office. That’s where she can collapse. There’s a couch here. It will be soft. She knows how to clean a couch. She can get there.

Her grip slackens.

She just has to get there.

How much blood has she lost? It hurts. Why wasn’t there anyone outside? Why isn’t there anyone here?

“Where,” she slurs, listing terribly from side to side, “where did everybody go?”

Footsteps. Oh. Someone is coming. She hopes she doesn’t bleed all over them.

She looks up and sees Judge Kim and Judge Kang walking into the room. Oh. She thought they’d gone home already. They spot her and Judge Kim yells her name. She hopes they aren’t angry that she’s gotten blood on the floor. But then he’s rushing over to her and his face is pale and he looks scared.

He pulls her hand away and his eyes widen at the sight of the wound. He looks back up at her in horror.

“Kit in our office,” she manages, “my phone died and I—“

“We have to hurry,” he says, cutting her off and swooping under her free arm, “I’ve got you.”

She’s lurched forward with new speed and struggles to keep up. Judge Kim’s grip on her is careful, her arm held around his shoulders and he barks something at Judge Kang as they get across the room. She opens her mouth to apologize when there’s another arm around her waist, holding her upright and a hand pressed hard over hers.

“Stay with us,” Judge Kang says, “we’re almost there.”

She can make it. Her legs won’t move as fast as theirs and they’re just too tall for this to be comfortable, but she’s rushed through the door and up to their office and then Judge Kim is dropping her arm and all but ripping off his scarf as Judge Kang lies her down on the couch.

She winces as he balls up the scarf and presses it hard to the wound, mumbling out an apology only for Judge Kim to scoff.

“It’s just a scarf, Jinjoo, it’s fine.” He sets the kit on the coffee table and rifles through it frantically. “I don’t know if we’ve got enough in here.”

“Even if you did, you can’t do anything until the wound stops bleeding,” Judge Kang says sharply, pressing harder, “and she’ll need a doctor.”

“There’s a panic button downstairs,” Judge Kim says, “that’ll get them here the fastest.”

Oh. She didn’t know that. She could have pressed it herself.

“Hey.” She blinks. Judge Kang is looking down at her, leaning his weight on the wound. “Stay with me.”

“Yes, Chief.” She winces when he pushes down harder. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, I know this must hurt.”

“Thank you,” she manages, “I can’t imagine this is how you expected to spend your evening.”

“Well, I couldn’t leave my Right Associate Judge to bleed out on the floor, could I?”

“I suppose not,” she says, the words twisting something in her chest.

“Besides,” he says almost conspiratorially, “your replacement would almost certainly look like a judge.”

A shaky laugh leaves her as Judge Kang chuckles. It feels surreal; him pressing hard on her stab wound as they share an inside joke. She hadn’t thought about it when she said it, only glancing over to see Judge Kang trying not to laugh. She didn’t think he’d remember.

“Hey,” he calls after a moment, “what is it?”

“Huh?”

“You look like you went somewhere,” he says quietly, “I thought I asked you to stay with me.”

He pushes a little harder on her side as she shakes her head. “It’s nothing.”

“It didn’t look like nothing.”

Jinjoo takes a breath, wincing again at the fresh wave of pain. “I know I was chosen for my looks.”

“Is that what you’re upset about? That you believe the only reason you’re still here is because of your pretty face?”

Now she’s glad she doesn’t have blood to spare to blush that Kang Yohan thinks she has a pretty face.

“As you pointed out, Judge Oh,” he says, “you’re a part of this team too. Not just because of your face, not because of the image you’ve portrayed for the cameras, but because you’re a good judge.”

“…you think so?”

He nods, a small smile on his face. “Though I will say, I have not questioned your judgment until now,” he says, pressing against the wound, “what happened?”

“A woman felt unsafe walking down the road and someone came up and tried to attack her.” She swallows. “I didn’t realize he had a knife or that I had been stabbed.”

Judge Kang blinks. “Did you just say you didn’t realize that you had been stabbed?”

“It didn’t feel like he stabbed me.”

“And what did you imagine being stabbed would feel like?”

“…sharper.” Judge Kang huffs. “It just felt like he punched me!”

“What am I going to do with you two,” he scolds without much real heat behind it, “always running headlong into things without stopping and thinking?”

The bloodless has loosened the filter on her words because she huffs too. “All due respect, sir, but you can talk.”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t talk to us before you do things,” she mumbles, “and then we can’t help you. You’re supposed to work with us and not run headlong into things either.”

Judge Kang watches her carefully for a moment. Jinjoo worries she’s gone too far, some part of her worries he’ll leave, then another smile comes to his face.

“Let’s make a deal,” he says, adjusting his pressure on her side, “you don’t put yourself in a situation that will result in you being stabbed, and I will start talking to you two more about the trials on a regular basis, hmm?”

“You have to include us in your plans.” He raises an eyebrow. “You talking about the trial could just be going over what we already know. That won’t solve anything.”

“What was that before about you being here only for your looks?”

“That’s the deal.”

Judge Kang looks at her for a moment before he nods. Jinjoo wants something a little more than that and she holds out her hand.

After a moment, he takes it and they shake on it. “You drive a hard bargain, Judge Oh.”

“Mm.” Now that she’s not being distracted by it anymore, though, it’s really starting to hurt. She swallows, closing her eyes and trying to breathe through it. It’s no use.

She hears footsteps coming and Judge Kim rushes back inside. “They’re on their way. Shouldn’t be long now.”

He couches down beside her head and carefully positions it on one of their pillows. She blinks her eyes open and he smiles, his brow still furrowed in concern.

“I got him to agree,” she mumbles just to watch the furrow smooth out a little.

“See? I knew you could do it.”

“You two,” comes Judge Kang’s indignant voice, “were conspiring against me?”

“And it worked, too,” Judge Kim says, “you should have us on your side instead of against you.”

“We shook on it, you can’t take it back now.”

“Such disrespect, the both of you,” Judge Kang grumbles, “who would’ve thought you two would turn out to be so rude? Or is it just because it’s after work hours?”

Jinjoo wants to reply but Judge Kang’s hand shifts and the pain is so sudden it springs tears to her eyes.

“Yah,” Judge Kim scolds, reaching out to brush her tears away, “don’t make her cry!”

“N-no, it’s—it’s just—“

“I can’t let up,” Judge Kang says softly, “I know it hurts, you’re doing well.”

“You’re so brave, Jinjoo,” Judge Kim whispers, “they’re almost here, they’ll know what to do.”

“It hurts,” she manages around a weak sob, “it really hurts.”

“Here.” Judge Kim reaches for the hand closest to him and holds it in his. “Squeeze, it’ll help.”

“You’ll get your hands all bloody,” she mumbles.

“I don’t mind.”

“How come you’re only worried about his hands,” Judge Kang asks, “or am I not worth your concern either?”

It might be a joke, but Jinjoo has lost a lot of blood and there will always be a part of her that hates being scolded in any way.

“I didn’t ask you to,” she says, sounding far too much like a petrified child, “you…you can stop.”

“He didn’t mean it like that,” Judge Kim soothes, sending a sharp look at Judge Kang, “it’s alright.”

“I’m not going to let you bleed out,” he says, softer now, “even if it means blood on my hands.”

But oh, she’s tired now and she doesn’t have the strength to cry and bleed and talk all at the same time. Her hand begins to go limp in Judge Kim’s and everything starts to hurt. Her arms ache from the walk and her legs don’t feel a part of her anymore. She catches sight of Judge Kim’s worried expression as her eyes begin to slip closed.

“Stay awake,” he says, “you have to stay awake.”

“I am awake, I’m just…just resting, I’m tired.”

Judge Kang suddenly pushes harder on her side and her eyes fly open. She stares up at him with a look of betrayal.

“Stay awake,” he says unapologetically, “and I won’t.”

“I’m trying,” she says, only partially in a whine, “but it’s hard when everything hurts.”

“I know, it’s alright, you’re almost there.”

They hear footsteps from outside.

“They’re here,” Judge Kim says, “they’re here, it’s alright, you did it, just stay awake until they get here.”

“Hello? Anyone?”

“In here,” Judge Kang barks, “Judge Oh is hurt.”

The last thing she can clearly feel is Judge Kim squeezing her hand firmly before everything disappears in a whirl of fluorescent lighting and a blur of movement. She must end up at a hospital somehow because she falls asleep with an IV in her arm and the quiet beeping of a heart rate monitor.

When she wakes, a doctor is there and he tells her she was lucky the knife missed everything important. When she tells him what she remembers, he scolds her for not charging her phone but that she’ll be good to go home as soon as he’s checked her stitches.

She’s surprised to see Judge Kim in the waiting area as she walks outside. The smiles and comes over to her, wrapping her arm through his and leading her outside.

“What are you doing here?”

“You got stabbed, Jinjoo,” he says, “I was worried.”

“Did you...you didn’t wait all night, did you?”

“No,” he says to her relief, “but I did tell the hospital to give me a call if anything happened, which nothing did until you woke up”

“Thank you, Judge Kim.”

“You know my name, Jinjoo, you’re allowed to use it.”

“Gaon, then.”

Judge Kim—Gaon smiles and tugs her toward the sunlight. “Come on, let’s get you home so you can change. You and I need to go get a coffee.”

“We do?”

“Yes,” he smiles, “because I have been told that there are inside jokes that I am not allowed to know and so you and I need to come up with our own.”

“Is it weird that I’m happy I didn’t charge my phone?”

“No weirder than anything else that happens around here.”

[primewritessmut]

💞 😬🎉🤯

💞 Who's your comfort character?

I mean, recently? Probably Mobius M. Mobius. He’s such an interesting character and I like turning him around in my brain like a Rubik’s Cube. Twisting one side to see if/how that changes the other sides. But historically, it’s been Venom. Eddie and the symbiote brought me a lot of comfort when I’ve needed it at different points in my life and I imagine they will continue to do so.

😬 Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends, family, or coworkers to stumble upon?

Oh my god. All of them? There really is something behind the mortifying ordeal of being seen. There are a few people in my life that know I write fanfic but they (almost) never ask to read it and I never offer. Of the two that have asked to read something, we’ve literally never spoken of it again.

I tend to tell people the truth when they ask me what I’m writing about (“the vulnerability of trust and knife kink” or “a guy getting sounded by the alien that lives in his body”) and it’s a really easy way to gauge whether people are going to be cool or not. They usually do some combination of freeze/grimace/wide eyes and then, again, we NEVER SPEAK OF IT.

But, to honestly answer your question, I would probably be most horrified if someone stumbled across she’s not going to die today. That probably marks the true beginnings of my downward spiral.

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

Usually that I finish it. That’s the main reason I started writing fanfic in the first place: to fucking finish something. Up to the point of Need a Helping Hand? I’d literally never finished a story, just let them float free form through my brain or exist on lost post-it notes or in half-empty notebooks.

After a while, I also started making mini-goals related to most of what I was writing and that, too, becomes a mark of success in its way. Do I feel like I improved at writing banter? Did I effectively use first person pov? Was there finally not a happy ending for once?

And then, you know, the serotonin and dopamine factor. As in does it provide me enough?

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

Fantasy. Historical. Mysteries and Thrillers. Honestly anything that requires me to do a ton of research or think too deeply about the world of the story.

Like I said somewhere else, I mostly write linearly, straight out the gate, from beginning to end with no planning. If a story requires a lot of planning (which I think all the above genres do) then I’m going to get gummed up in the works and never write anything.

Huh. Maybe that’s why I never finished anything before NAHH? I was always trying to write fucking fantasy.

x

[distopea]

❝  i chose you.  and i need you to trust that my decision is final.  trust me.  ❞ ( What if. Raum & Oliver 😶)

@cantuscorvi

His phone was buzzing inside his pocket, like it had for the past few days. He couldn’t remember how many calls he had missed from the entire Cleaners’ squad, but surely things were getting worse hour after hour. There was no doubt that Astra was aware that his favorite little toy had been gone for too long, and that an important client and business partner of the Cleaners was dead. Oliver was nowhere to be found, and they had probably already tracked him to Raum’s place thanks to the GPS inside his phone. It was a matter of time before someone would knock at his door, bargaining to get their toy back, and probably for the worst. The young dancer didn��t show much, but he was anxious. 

He threw a glance at his lover, and witnessed that his eyes were checking at Oliver’s pocket. Kaizen had been calling, then Gambit. Oliver was certain that the next dialed number might be Astra himself. He put the phone down onto the table, a deep and heavy sigh leaving his throat. If Raum had helped him escape this bloody hotel room, there were still the same doubts lingering inside Oliver’s mind. The same everlasting little ring telling him that he couldn’t trust anyone in his sorry world. He eyed Raum as if he had shown suspicious behavior, before he eventually stood back up and crossed his arms. 

“You know what, I should leave.” Oliver said, a bit harsher than he wanted to sound. It was enough to get Raum’s attention because of that. Oliver shook his head, already ready to bite because it was safer to defend himself right now. “Let's be honest for two minutes, what we are doing is stupid and reckless. It’s a matter of time before Kaizen will knock down your door and drag me out, or worse… It’s probably a matter of days before it’s Astra himself showing up.” He felt mortified, the weight of killing someone tangled with the fact that he had brought bad omens upon Raum’s life as well.

All that blood, those muffled screams, the way his eyes had rolled... Oliver turned around, facing the window and the night view in front of him. It was sickening to remember every second of his first murder, every detail printed deep inside his mind. He shivered at the thought of what their future would be now. Because what he had committed could only bring desperate times and yet…

“I know how he works…” Oliver muttered when he sensed Raum’s fingers clapped onto his biceps. He almost lost his balance, stiffened onto his legs. “He will ask Gambit to dig for any sort of information, and he will use it against you. He will try to know every weakness you may have, and it will force you to pick a side… And I’m not an idiot…” He turned around to watch Raum, his chestnut eyes for once facing the ordeals of his own fate. He wanted this truth not to be his final act, but it was as if written in marble already. He was born to die.

“You will save yourself, and I can’t really do much about it. I can’t even resent you for that because… Perhaps I would do the same.” He pinched his lips together, looking away from Raum’s piercing eyes. “So before you choose… Please at least, let me try-” 

Oliver stopped when there was a hand pressed against his lips. Whatever poison he might say next, Raum would permit him to voice it. He didn't know if it was out of pain, misery or maybe because he couldn't hear those thoughts anymore. He remained silent, his stare drifting back to observe his lover’s features. Every inch of him was screaming how it was painful to be in this situation… To wait for Raum to eventually state his worst fear out loud and abandon him again. 

❝  I chose you,  and I need you to trust that my decision is final. Trust me.  ❞

Oliver swallowed thickly, his eyes burning with this forbidden hope that was impossible to accept. Oh, if Raum was lying, it was too late. He couldn’t get away from his grip anymore, nor pretend that he had been looking to hear that the moment he had crossed his path again. Whether it was a game of fate or a thread of life, Oliver wanted to cling to it with all his heart. He blinked and slowly caught Raum’s wrist.

Even if it was a lie, at this point, at this moment, he chose to believe his heart. 

[kradogsrats]

i am also very normal about chess the musical, pls elaborate on ur lissa feelings (also what is ur favorite recording)

-🏠

I am a basic bitch so my fav is the 2008 Chess in Concert recording with Idina Menzel, which I have definitely watched like... at least 50 times. BUT the Swedish version with Helen Sjöholm and Tommy Körberg also goes extremely hard and anyone who hasn't seen that equivalent of "Nobody's Side" should treat themselves.

ANYWAY like it's really that the entire concept of love in it is that it comes with an expiration date: you hold on to what you have now as best you can, because it will eventually be lost. Even what's ostensibly the "falling in love" song (Heaven Help My Heart) is the most bittersweet possible take on the "rewards of being loved/mortifying ordeal of being known" dichotomy. It's both fatalistic and hopeful: "I love you completely and hope I always will" vs. "where there's truth there will be lies." None of that loss is even anyone's fault, it's simply a thing that happens. (There's some thematic layers in there regarding individuals vs. inexorable forces that I'll let lie.)

But that's all very representative of Lissa to me, that love changes and that's a thing to be expected. Sometimes that change means things have to end, but not always. I don't love my spouse in the same way I did when I was 20 or 25. I still love them just as much... but differently than I did. I'm a different person, and so are they. Lissa loves Viren until she can't, anymore.

Like, probably the character I relate her most to would be Svetlana, and the tragedy of Svetlana is that she no longer loves Anatoly, and in fact she wants to leave him, but in order to get the freedom to do that she's required to convince him to return to their marriage. I wonder a lot about what happens to her, after the ending... Anatoly returns to Russia, but does she leave him? Is she able to take her children with her? (An interesting question since "Someone Else's Story" doesn't reference her children at all, only the desire to leave Anatoly and the possibility of finding love elsewhere. If she wasn't able to take her children, would she still leave? Probably not in 1988, but otherwise?) Does Molokov follow through on the promise of "the life you want, and anywhere you want it" because Anatoly returned? Probably not since he didn't lose, and also Molokov is a dick.

(Side note: the new book production that I saw in 2018 that's much more political went super dark on being explicit that Svetlana at least believes that if she fails, she will be killed... either executed outright, or disappeared to a prison/work camp to die. So y'know, there's that.)

SO YEAH IDK that wasn't very coherent, it's just that Lissa is kind of emblematic to me of a more complex and pragmatic view of love, that it's always a risk (but a risk worth taking) and there really never is a happy ending, just change and mistakes and growing, which sometimes means growing apart.

[roseofcards90]

I honestly write for myself cause I started writing for therapy reasons, not in a show my therapist later way- just in a not letting me many thoughts consume me kind of way, I struggle posting things because I probably wrote it out a bad experience that I needed to process (or a good one sometimes!) and it's so vulnerable but I want to have Someone to show it to too. how do people do it we are in like opposite extremes but at the end of the day all kinds of writers both fear and want to be perceived so bad... mortifying ordeal indeed

EXACTLY THO YOU GET IT ANON 😭😭😭 I also did do a lot of writing to vent in the past, and even now with like fanfics and stuff it’s a good way to process things. It’s just finding the courage to share your stuff when you’re surrounded by so many other people who are better, it does feel vulnerable, especially when you know you’ve poured your heart into something and to have no one see that or notice it sucks honestly. At that point, I always wondered “why even bother lol” because it was hard for me personally to process even doing something for myself in general (and it still is rip)

But yeah at the end of the day the mortifying ordeal of being known crushes us all and I want to throw it off a bridge fr