#Plot Device: Marriage Law

[snamioneasks]

Spellcaster by SGCbearcub - E, 34 chapters - Hermione Granger was a witch. By the time she was done, the whole damned pureblood world was going to know it. HG/SS. Spoiler HBP

[link to SSHG Review copy]

[hanibalistic]

WHO YOU ARE, WHO I AM | LEE MINHO.

genre | fluff, angst, (semi) slow burn / arranged marriage au / strangers to lovers / 4th wall break

synopsis | when you wake up to a good-looking man who claims to be your husband, there isn’t much to do aside from assuming you got stuck in a drama.

word count | 12.0k+

warning | car crash / not edited since the first time i posted this story

note | bye-bye baby, i love you baby. more than that body pillow drabble at least.​

parts | one, two, three

After the doctor bandaged your hands and did some checkup on you to make sure you had sustained no more damage from the fall, you were glad to hear that they would take up the responsibility to call Minho’s parents instead.

You could not find the energy to talk to anyone about anything—perhaps you would give Yuna an earful about what happened, but she was gone by the time you got picked up by others around the scene. Tears kept falling down your face when you were getting treated, and the doctor in charge stopped asking you if she was hurting you anymore. It was obvious that your concern lay on someone else.

How did this happen? You always thought you would be so agile and smart during emergencies. The cold water of truth once again splashed down on you, reminding you that just because you think you’d be cool doesn’t mean you would be when your thoughts turn into reality. This isn’t the law of attraction, you can’t manifest the car away and you sure as well can’t manifest peace.

You sighed, your lashes wet and your under-eye pained from all the rubbing. It had to happen this way, didn’t it? The car crash was, unfortunately, essential in your drama. If it wasn’t the kidnapping, it if wasn’t the psychotic mother, if it wasn’t even the love triangle, then it would be the goddamn car crash. And as usual, it was infuriating and you wished it hadn’t happened.

It wasn’t that you minded the car crash (you would like to not see it as a plot device so often, though). You just hoped it hadn’t been Minho who got hit because he cared enough to save you from it. And now you were left here, sitting in the hospital lobby and being haunted by all the gut-wrenching components of a drama car crash.

Broken hands, broken legs, brain dead, blindness, mute, deaf, paralyzed, coma, a sudden discovery of cancer, a sudden discovery of related bloodlines, a sudden discovery of a terminal illness. You squealed under your breath as you went down the list, approaching the most common trait of them all—amnesia.

Sure, dramas usually have this rule where all you needed to endure was one to two months of hardships where Minho would revert to hating your guts, and then he would either fall in love with you again or you would give him the magical kiss of memory revival and he would suddenly remember your past together.

But those are often so unpredictable! You have watched hundreds of dramas that spin down several different lanes, and all of them have left you heartbroken one way or another. And by now you have learned how much different it would be for you to have to experience such events by yourself! If you could cry so hard because of what those pixelated people are going through, how would you begin to cope with experiencing it yourself?

A sob forced itself up to your throat, your chest sustained the pain of holding it in for too long it felt like you swallowed too many things at once, it felt like you were suffocating. You were afraid. So far, you have skated through every event with a very humorous coping mechanism, one that never does any long-term help. But this was different, this could last forever.

No, this wasn’t supposed to be the forever you experience. You two have just begun, you two were just starting to love each other loudly and happily. You haven’t had enough yet, you wanted more time! The gate to Heaven shouldn’t be allowed to close itself at people’s faces!

“Hello? Excuse me?”

You looked up at the doctor standing in front of you and immediately stood up, wiping your eyes on cue even though you had passed the point of crying and ceasing the chaos in your head. “Yes! How–how is Minho?”

“Good. He only got a few fractured ribs, a bad concussion, and a badly scraped forehead. He didn’t suffer any damage to his internal organs and there are no signs of internal bleeding,” the doctor explained. “He just needs to rest for now, but I estimate that he will wake up sooner than expected. You can wait in his room if you want to.”

You heard everything she said crystal clear. You even went so far as to repeat it in your head. Fractured ribs and concussion, ouchie but at least there wasn’t any internal damage that always sounded so life-threatening. This should be great news, but why did it sound so suspicious to you?

“Really? You are sure, doctor?” you asked, “He didn’t like…lost his eyesight or paralyzed or… I don’t know, cancer? Amnesia?”

“This is a car crash, I don’t think it will cause him cancer,” she replied calmly. If she was annoyed at your stupid questions, she was trained well not to show it on her face. “And no, we did all the scans. There is nothing else, I assure you.”

“But I swear I saw blood back then, what does that mean?”

“He scraped his forehead when he fell. We did sutures on the wound, which is going to leave him a scar but we can try to minimize it as best as we can,” she said.

Huh, bummer. Maybe I should order another car crash.

Yeah, now wasn’t the time. My apologies.

You thanked the doctor quickly then, wanting to do nothing more than to see him. But before you could leave, she held you back and shifted through her pocket for something she intended to give you.

"The paramedic stopped me and told me to give this back to Mr.Lee when you guys went in, but I assume it is yours?” she said as she pulled out a dark blue velvet box and handed it to you.

It was a ring box, with your ring stored securely in it. You felt a rush of tears piling at your eyes again but you held them down and nodded. “Yeah, well, let’s hope it’s still for me.”

“Pretty sure it will. He wouldn’t buy you a ring if he didn’t care enough to jump in front of a car for you.” She shrugged. “His room is right around the corner, you can ask the nurses around.”

You bid her goodbye then, watching her rush away as her pager beeped. Then you returned your attention to the ring. You took it out of the box and slipped it on, admiring the way it still fits perfectly around your finger. You became his and you would always be from now on; wearing the ring is an act of taking a physical vow. Clasping the box shut, you put it in your pocket carefully before heading to where the doctor pointed you.

This was painstakingly familiar, Minho thought as he opened his eyes once again to welcome the flood of nausea and ugly ceiling lights. He hasn’t been in the hospital for a long time but he could tell he was in one from the saturated smell of alcohol and the overall sickly atmosphere. Shutting his eyes immediately after waking up, he groaned hoarsely as he recalled what events led up to this moment and realized he would have to be bedridden once more.

What a shame, you would have to take care of him again—hey, hold on a second! Where were you?

Minho snapped his eyes open, panic overwhelming the revolting weight laid atop of his body and brain. He did push you out of the way, right? He remembered he did, but he couldn’t be sure if you both were lucky enough to not have a second careless driver grace the crossroad. Or what if you bumped your head too hard on the ground and got a bad concussion? Or what if he didn’t push you far away enough for the car not to hit you?

He turned his head over to the door, wanting to call for a nurse and ask them millions of unprepared questions, but he stopped in his tracks abruptly when his gaze shivered downwards and he found you sleeping with your head on the edge of the bed. He hadn’t even registered the feeling of his hand being held by yours, the pulse oximeter and the IV on his left arm had taken away most of his sense of touch.

Calming down, Minho relaxed against the pillows and exhaled in relief. He would much rather have you here and sleeping in an uncomfortable position than laying on a bed with a heart monitor beeping next to your bed. Lowering his head so he could look at you, he softened at the way your cheek was squeezed against your forearm and the fading redness visible under your once tearful eyes. Oh, how he longed to reach out and touch you right now, the desire was immeasurable.

His mellow eyes trailed over to your hand, the one laying on the side of his legs, and he frowned slightly at the heavy white gauze wrapped around your lower palm. Getting a scrape when he pushed you away like that is likely inevitable; it got the job done, thankfully, he hoped it didn’t hurt you too much. He was promoted to move his hand when he saw yours, the one you had your own pinned down on the bed softly, and it was then when he felt the roughness of the gauze rubbing against his skin as well.

With a grimace, he looked over to where your hands were stacked on top of each other, and he held his breath when he finally noticed the shining diamond sitting prettily on your finger.

You put the ring back on.

The box must have flown out of his pocket when he got hit. He had been taking it with him everywhere recently just in case the perfect timing to give it back to you turns out to be a place where he couldn’t have access to it immediately. Besides, holding the box in his hand had always reminded him of you, and he liked being reminded of you from time to time throughout the day.

It made him feel less jittery, less annoyed at the general things, and it got him excited to return home at the end of the day.

Minho couldn’t think about anything else at the moment; all that flooded his mind was how much more fulfilling it was to see the ring on your finger rather than in the box, how things should have been this way all along, and what it all meant now that you’ve worn it back.

Forgiveness for his aloofness in the past, a firm acceptance of this marriage, and that he has become someone who can be loved by you.

His shaky eyes were filled with droplets, creating a glassy sight in his already glittery eyes. Feeling you stir on your spot, he slowly moved his head up so he could watch you wake from your slumber. Your grogginess went away as soon as you met eyes with him, and instead of an excited squeal or a surprised gasp, the only thing that glossed over you was an immense relief.

Looking at you, Minho breathed out a quiet laugh, one that even you couldn’t hear. He felt your hand around him still, but your grip more secure now. In an attempt to chase the tears away from your eyes, he joked, “Stop frowning. Your face is gonna get stuck.”

“I’m glad you still remember that,” you laughed, lightly shoving his leg as your voice echoed the room. He gave you a knowing hum as if telling you it would be impossible for him to ever forget the unfunny jokes you liked to tell around the house so much, they were practically engraved in his mind.

Sitting up straighter now, your entire demeanor became gentler. Your senses less alert, your mouth quirked into a permanent smirk, and your fluffy gaze paying a constant focus on Minho. 

“You haven’t forgotten me, have you?” you asked slowly, propping yourself up on your intertwined hands and smiling brightly up at him.

“No,” he replied.

“Who am I?”

“You are [Name]. You have bad humor, you forced pizza down my throat once, and you made me like soap opera,” he said, finding his voice back as more words gradually left his lips. And then he paused for a moment, a dramatic moment where he eyed you lovingly, watching as your brows raised in anticipation. “And I think I might be your husband.”

A joyous sob came in the form of giggle and Minho whined at the strands of tears that danced down your cheeks. He reached out to you, wanting to wipe your tears away for you, but you stopped him and told him not to move. Instead, you got up from the chair and scooted closer to the edge of the bed so you two could be closer at face level.

You slipped your arm under this head and the other reached to cup his jaw. You kissed his forehead, once and twice, then you pulled away just enough for you to look at him fully. Ah, you were so filled to the brim with affection for him; it was so new to you but so real the same time that you were not afraid of diving headfirst into it.

“I think you are my husband,” you whispered with a small nod.

He smiled. “Thank you for having me again.”

You gave him a smile before leaning down to kiss him again. This time you didn’t stop at his forehead. Your soft lips trailed down his eyes, his nose, his cupid’s bow, and before you could kiss him on the lips as you had always wished, you pulled away with a puff of nervous breath. You stared into his eyes, feeling the same longing in the way his hand found your wrist and he held onto you.

What are you waiting for? For permission? For him to get better? Go on, kiss him.

You two will be fine, you won’t hurt each other.

Pressing your lips against his tentatively, you felt a rush of adrenaline racing around your lungs. It made you feel hypersensitive, like a supernatural who could hear and see and feel beyond the human spectrum—the forced nudge of your noses, the beating in your ears, the softness of his lips, your quickened breathes, his soft locks flowing between your fingers, his grip on your wrists tightening to keep you with him.

It was all so overwhelming, the intimacy and the desperation. The emotions came in tiny waves, similar to the way the ocean feels when you stepped your feet on the shore. It drowns you out, it lets you breathe, it drowns you out again. You kiss, you breathe, and you kiss him again. No matter how many times the cycle continues, no matter how many times the seawater brushes past your skin, you get surprised by it and you keep yearning for more.

Your heart was hanging by a thread, any minute now it would leave your chest and land itself straight into Minho’s palms.

Hesitantly pulling away, you kept your mouths close enough for him to still feel you against his lips. He leaned in a little, breathing out a whine that made you realize your heart was already in his hands long ago. Swallowing down a breath, you whispered, “Do you remember, that I love you?”

He nodded, his lashes fluttering as he glanced down at your lips again and back up at your eyes, “I will now.”

Minho’s heart was yours too, long ago, and you’ve learned that.

You jolted awake in the middle of the night. Heavy breaths left your lips as you sat up against the arm of the couch. Your heart was beating quickly like you had just run a mile around the track field.

It was nothing like the way you used to be yanked out of sleep. It wasn’t like your head hitting against your desk in a boring lecture, or when you brutally died in a bad dream. This one was different. You were not falling asleep and you weren’t dreaming. It was different in a way that all you saw during your ‘consciousness’ was blackness, paired with a familiar voice you never thought you would hear again.

“Mom?” you whispered as you quickly scanned your surroundings, looking for the sight of your mother.

But you were still in the hospital room. You were sitting on the couch located at the corner of the room, with your phone and leftover takeaway food resting on top of the small table before you. The moon has gone up and the sky has turned darker than night, you glanced over and found Minho sleeping on the bed as he should.

You were back in where you were supposed to be, but your mother’s voice felt genuinely real during your supposed dream. Sitting up straighter and putting your feet down on the ground, you ran your hands through your hair to force yourself into concentration. Why did you jolt awake at your mother’s voice? There should be no reason for you to find her a threat unless you felt like you were being pulled out of this world.

Like you were falling, like you were falling out of this place, like you were leaving this world and back to reality.

“Oh god,” you gasped as you snapped your head up, your eyes wide.

Great, you were finally piecing the puzzle together, [Name]. I’m glad. 

You have exhausted your one near-death experience when you almost got hit by a car yesterday. If Minho hadn’t pushed you to the side and you got hit then things would have been different; you’d be hit by the car, got sent to a hospital to get fixed, and nothing would have happened. Alas, Minho did push you out of the way, and now you have reached the limit, which was only one. If you remember clearly, the way you arrived to this world was by waking, so when you return home, you would find yourself waking up as well. 

Except this time, you would be alone, and Minho never existed.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you repeated under your breath, biting your nails in an attempt to ease out the spiraling anxiety permanent in your head. It was all hitting you too quickly—the near-death theory, the memories you have of your real life, or the lack thereof, feeling like you were being pulled out of your own body, going back to reality, leaving Minho here.

I reckon this would be better for you, actually. The anxiety keeps you awake, and the pacing around keeps you active and forces your eyes open. It would be sooner or later, though, when you find yourself dozing off due to the inability to stay awake any longer. That’s when things get bad for you because as soon as you fall asleep, you will wake up in a whole different place. A familiar place, but different, nonetheless. 

Oh, but how could this be? You have just worn the ring, you two have just kissed for the first time. You couldn’t fathom the idea of being separated from Minho and you didn’t want to leave him yet! You never want to leave him ever! There was still so much for you two to do! You needed more time. You both needed more time!

“[Name]?”

“Huh–oh, hey, Minho.” You moved over to him with a smile. “Did I wake you?”

He could see the panic in your eyes and he frowned. “Are you okay? You look tired. Maybe you should get some sleep–”

“Oh, I–” Your bottom lips quivered.

How long would you be able to hide it before he finds out? How long could you stay awake and act normal for? How would you be able to explain why you always look so exhausted? Minho should know the truth, he deserved to know that you have been hiding something important from him the whole time. Besides, it would be such a shame if you leave him unprepared for your departure. He’s the one who has to remember, after all. 

“I’m not leaving!”

Oh, yell at me, why don’t you?

“Hey,” Minho grabbed a hold of your hand, his brows furrowed up at you, “what is going on?”

You stayed still to pull yourself together for a few seconds, breathing slowly, and then you looked back at him. “I have something to tell you.”

He could sense the solemnity in your voice and it terrified him. You had shown him a large range of your emotions before, from playful to angry to loving, but he has never seen you look so helpless. Tugging at your hand, he kissed your knuckles softly and nodded. “What is it?”

And you told him everything, struggling to make your story coherent despite only having the absolute truth escaping your lips. You told him from the very moment when you found yourself waking up next to him, and then when you were still figuring out what to do with ‘your’ past broken relationship, to adapting quickly and blending into this world. Everything up until this point, when you were so close to forgetting where you came from only to have reality force itself back into your head again.

It was taking Minho a long time to comprehend all the information thrown at him. When it seemed like he was finally done, he moved his eyes over to you and he tilted his head with a sigh. “That is a very deliberate joke.”

Right, you should have anticipated a reaction like that. It would be too easy if he brought it immediately. You pulled a face. “It’s not a joke, Minho.”

“Oh, so you are trying to tell me you aren’t from this universe and you aren’t even who you are before you came here?” he said, confusion evident on his tired face and his voice rising as he went on. “You are basically suggesting parallel universes exist?”

“No–I mean, yeah? It could be true?” You shrugged, and then you shook your head. “The point is–I can feel myself leaving this place and I am pretty sure as soon as I fall asleep, my time will be up. I just felt like I should tell you because you deserve to know.”

Despite how serious you sounded throughout your entire explanation, he just couldn’t bring himself to take you seriously. It was too absurd, the whole concept of waking up in another place. Sure, you did suddenly change overnight and you did feel much different than you did before, and there had been certain very subtle hints that could back your point up, but it was not enough for Minho to believe in what you just told him.

“You should go to sleep, [Name]. You’ve been really tired,” he said again, trying to persuade you into going back to bed.

Disappointment flashed before your eyes. Your shoulders slumped in defeat as you looked away, unsure what else you could do to convince him. The only thing you were sure about was that you absolutely could not fall asleep, no matter how tired you were. You planned to hang on for as long as you could, and hopefully, Minho would come around and believe you by then.

“I am just gonna go take a walk and come back,” you said, smiling faintly. “You should go back to sleep though.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “You can sleep with me on the bed if you want. I wouldn’t mind.”

“You know I can’t,“ you said. Leaning down to kiss his forehead, you moved away from the bed slowly. “Go to bed. I’ll wake you up with breakfast tomorrow morning.”

You closed the door, leaving him alone in the darkroom. Minho pouted, he was thinking too much to be able to just fall asleep now. The fact that he couldn’t just sleep sort of gave him a sense that he was leaning towards believing it and he was just in the stage of denial. If he really thought it was a joke then he should have no problem brushing it off, right?

He leaned back against the pillow, his fingers grasping at the air and his head filled.

Would you really leave? Just like that? More importantly, would he be able to tell if you left?

"Did you sleep?”

“They did not,” Changbin replied casually as he slammed a plastic bag on top of the table. Leaning down and proceeding to take out the takeaway food, he handed you a small box of food and looked up at Minho again. “They were up the whole night.”

“Did you seriously stay up the whole night?” Minho asked, brows furrowed at the unexpected visit by Changbin. He wanted to ask why he decided to tag along with you, but he figured it was much more important to know what happened with you last night.

“I did,” you sighed, shoving the chicken into your mouth and moaning at its delicious taste.

After realizing it would be almost impossible for you to stay awake on your own, which was such bullshit because you swore you used to have the ability to pull all-nighters like it was nothing, you ended up calling your last resort—Seo Changbin. Feeling bad that you had to wake him up in the middle of the night, you gave him the same explanation you gave Minho, and like your husband, he was extremely reluctant to accept it.

But you weren’t sleeping at all. And while Changbin had the suspicion that you were just taking this 'joke’ a little too far, he decided to humor you for the night and stayed up with you. And you spent the night over at his home, doing anything and everything to keep yourselves from falling asleep.

“Didn’t they tell you about the story?” Changbin asked, popping open a can of soda and looking at Minho as he drank. “I still don’t believe it but they were so hell-bent on not sleeping, I might just let them have it.”

“What–Changbin, I thought you believed me!” you whined, punching his behind and shoving him to the side.

“If I come over and tell you I’m not actually me and I came from another dimension, would you have believed me?” Changbin retorted, rubbing the spilled drink off his chin.

“I don’t have to because first of all, I met you for the first time at the shopping mall and I know nothing about you,” you pointed out. “Second of all, I am going through it right now. I am telling you, if I fall asleep, you will never see me again.”

“You don’t have proof that you aren’t you, [Name],” Minho chimed in, sighing in defeat as he slumped back against the bed.

Changbin pointed at you with wide eyes then, nodding in agreement. Sitting up from the couch, you turned your head to find Minho grimacing at you, and you heave a sigh. Proof. Where the hell would you find the proof to explain that you are who you are? Identity isn’t a tangible thing, no amount of paperwork can shape it for you.

“Look, I am telling the truth, alright? Or at least I am saying what I know,” you said as you grabbed a box and headed over to the bed. You handed the food to Minho, who refrained from throwing a mini tantrum the way he did before due to Changbin’s presence. Sitting down on the chair you had also pulled over, you sighed. “Who knows? Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t want to take the risk and sleep.”

You looked at Minho, your brows raising slowly to display a vulnerably honest expression. No malice was hidden behind your eyes, your gaze only directed at him. “I don’t want to leave you, Minho.”

His munching halted. He could feel a hint of unease at the bottom of his stomach, possibly due to what you said and the soft way you said it. As if you were afraid, cautious. Lowering his hand, he inhaled, kind of wishing his inner voice would kick him in the head and give him a little nudge to the right path.

But really, what more was there left to say, Minho? [Name] has said all they could.

“You are not going leave me,” he muttered.

You shook your head. “Not consciously, no.”

Minho pursed his lips. Think carefully; for him to convince himself of what you said, he has to nitpick the past and the present, like separating different colored peas with chopsticks.

Starting from the day you met him, you said you have no idea what his name is and you woke up in his bed even though he had this terrible rule of not sleeping together. That was one. Then you forgot about the marriage; you were surprised by the ring on your hand so much that you even asked him for the price. That was two. You went into his closet, even when you were banned from touching certain things that were his. That was three. These were all rules to be broken, but the old you never had the guts to do that. It didn’t make sense for the courage to suddenly appear.

Asking for a divorce and acting like you didn’t know it was arranged, forgetting that your parents were dead, completely unbothered by Yuna’s presence, suddenly knowing how to cook up a whole meal, eating lots of greasy food, profoundly cursing, being playful enough to give him nicknames and make bad jokes.

Aside from that, he could physically tell, now that he thought about it with a clearer head. You were less timid and much louder. Sure, you have your moments of tenderness, but overall you felt much more energized and much happier than before. It was a difference in your presence—you didn’t use to light up the room when you walk into one, but now all Minho could see was you whenever you come into his line of sight. And that was before he fell so in love with you.

The pieces were adding up to an unbelievable story. 

Minho looked up at Changbin, his gaze hardened. “Can you leave us alone for a moment?”

You widened your eyes at his troubled look, then you turned around and urged your best friend away as well, promising to find him later when your private talk ends. Changbin rolled his eyes and unwillingly left, and then it was finally just you and him.

Minho started without waiting. “Let me recap everything. You came here not knowing who I am or what this place is?”

“Yes,” you nodded, “does this mean you believe me now?”

“Wait–why didn’t you tell me before then?” he asked.

“I thought I would leave soon and return to where I came from. I didn’t expect to stay so long,” you said. “Also, drama taught me it is better to keep my identity hidden.”

Minho rolled his eyes. “So, you suspect that the way for you to go back is through a near-death experience?”

“And falling asleep later,” you hummed. “This one I learned out of instinct, but I’m sure it’s happened before on some show.”

Minho scoffed, “You can’t trust dramas all the time. They’re made up.”

“Yeah, but this feels too much like one for me to ignore it! I mean, look at this!” You pointed at him, smiling bitterly. “Look at you! I would have never been able to snatch a guy like you if I was back in my world. I was a huge loner. All I did was work and have fleeting crushes.”

He watched as you lowered your arm, your smile dimming significantly. “Honestly, I don’t even know if you love me or who used to be me.” You shrugged, not looking at him. “I am a new person to you now, right?”

Minho licked his lower lip. That problem has never crossed his mind before since it was so obvious that he loved you. His affection was never there, it wasn’t affection for you before. But then he started developing feelings of his own for you, steaming from a threatening turn where he might lose the care and obedience he was used to receiving. He just used to like being loved by 'you’, now he liked loving you; he liked the mutual feelings you two shared.

If all were true, then there was a whole world behind you he’s never known. You previous life, your friends, your fleeting crushes.

“Come here,” he said, patting the spot next to him.

You stood up from the chair and carefully climbed onto the spot next to him. You back hit against the side rail, preventing you from falling off, while Minho pushed his hand against your waist to keep you close to him. You leaned your head against his shoulder, a sigh leaving your lips quietly.

“You know, I thought you were funny, back when you first came here,” he said. “A little infuriating, yes, but amusing nonetheless.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” you commented, giggling when he cleared his throat and nudged the top of your head with his jaw.

“You could have totally snatched me up even if we are not in this setting,” he said. “You aren’t like other people. You treat me differently.”

Ah, and the iconic line finally decided to make its appearance. I was hoping it’d at least happen once for you to hear it because you would only be able to hear it from Minho’s mouth.

“What do you mean different? I treat you the same way everyone treats you!” you said, suppressing a chuckle. You weren’t sure if that line had boosted your ego but it sure did make you feel quite special, as cliché as it was, but honestly? As a society, we should all establish that clichés don’t matter.

“No, you were so casual and honest. I think you are the only person who has given me nicknames aside from my old friends back in high school.” He nodded with a shaky laugh. He patted your waist in a beckoning motion, seeming excited. “And you’re even more different than others now because you are the only person I love, in that special kind of way.”

“What are you, five? Special kind of way–that’s lame!” you exclaimed, laughter escaping in between. When you quieted down, you pressed yourself closer to him and looked up.

He only glanced down when he felt your lips at the side of his jaw. And he kissed you then, leaning his head down eagerly to capture your lips. You were careful with moving around, your hand going up to stop at the nape of his neck, rubbing comfortingly as your mouths danced with each other sensually.

This could never be enough. Minho wanted more than this, he thought as he tugged you closer to him, feeling your chest against his side. This could never be enough. He wanted to do more than kissing you in a hospital bed. He wanted to kiss you under the moon, to kiss you at home, to kiss you during a spontaneous snack run at midnight. He wanted to eat junk food and get emotional about fictional characters with you; he wanted to see you read books while he worked on the side.

Minho wants you with him, always.

You pulled away, gasping a little at how teary his eyes had suddenly become. You didn’t need to ask why. You could already tell. “Do you believe me now?”

“I can’t. I don’t want to.” Minho let out a shaky breath. “If I do then I will have to accept the fact that you might leave me soon.”

A sobbing noise spiked from the back of your throat as you reached up to peck his lips. “I will try my best to stay awake for as long as I can, Minho.”

He nodded, even though the fact alone broke him, the fact that you two have to settle for 'as long as you can.’

You jolted awake again, this time in Minho’s workroom with a new book held loose in your hands.

You kept the lights on for the sake of having an awake atmosphere even though you knew very well that would do nothing to help your exhaustion. Looking up from the couch, you found it hard to just squint at the clock hanging above your head, but you saw that it was long past midnight already.

You groaned, throwing your head back against the couch as you kicked your legs in frustration. You were officially three days in, all three days you went without a lick of sleep. And you put in lots and lots of effort to accomplish that, such as eating, doing yoga, shopping, scrolling the internet, and indulging yourself in many new shows filled with more than seven seasons of emotions.

It was painful. Your body felt heavy and your eye bags were probably getting bigger as you went on. Your mind was slow, you zone out too much and you kept dozing off. The only thing keeping you from falling into slumber was the sickening feeling of you astral projecting out of this place.

You didn’t want to cry though. Not only would it make you feel even more exhausted, but it would also make you feel weak, and you didn’t want to feel pathetic that way if you were doing this so you could stay with the love of your life.

Huffing out a groan, you got off the couch and left the room. You were much more familiar with the house by now, you could practically walk anywhere with your eyes closed as long as you knew where you started. You walked down the hallway and stopped abruptly before a pair of doors.

Minho’s closet was as you remembered it was. Black and white, very minimalistic, with clothing racks lining up against the wall. One thing has changed, though, he has opened up a space for clothes you got him from time to time. The ones you thought he would look good in and he occasionally wears around in the house when he didn’t need to be in formal attire.

You flipped through the clothes, remembering where each one of them came from with a smile. It was quite funny as well, to see how the clothes gradually grew to be more accurate in his size with the more you brought.

Pulling a sweater off the rack, you admired the soft material by kneading it between your fingers, then you hugged it close to your chest. You brought the fabric close to your face, inhaling the warm scent you’ve gotten used to smelling on your own clothes as well.

You never tried to look into what detergent the housekeeper used to wash your clothes, but you always thought it had an artificial smell of some type of flower you have never smelt the actual scent of before. It stopped mattering now that you have gotten so accustomed to the smell. It just has the scent of a home, and home is Minho for you.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled out to control your quickened breathing. A sob threatened to break out but you muffled it with his sweater, clinging onto it like it was your life-line.

It has been so difficult for you. Staying awake beyond your limit and trying to smile with everyone else; you couldn’t even tell Minho how you felt when he asked if you were okay because a part of you dreaded that he’d let you go. You felt alone, worrying and fearing for the day you would leave this place.

Standing in his closet and having his scent so close to you pushed you past the breaking point. All you knew was that you wanted to stay with Minho, and knowing how sleep would be inevitable made you cry.

The past three days have only been about that. You couldn’t afford to think about anything else.

You stood there alone and sobbed for as long as your body allowed. When you were done, you dropped the sweater on the rack and took off your own just so you would wear it.

It felt warm, big and warm, just like Minho.

You felt another sob bubbling up.

Minho could tell you have been crying when you arrived to visit him for the night.

It has become increasingly difficult for him not to notice how worn out you were, not to mention having to neglect it and pretend as if nothing was happening. Although you were the one who was so determined to keep yourself in this place, and of course, he too wanted you to stay here, he couldn’t help the gruesome guilt that rips through his veins whenever he sees that defeated state of yours.

You were dozing off on the couch again. He could somehow feel it whenever you’ve got your eyes closed, it was like a tingly sense that shoots down his spine. Even then, he always looks over to check if you are, and you were this time, your chin squished against the base of your palm with your elbow propped up against the armrest of the couch. You were dozing and waking, an indefinite cycle that would only stop until you reach the point of insanity, he supposed.

When this first happened, when he first saw you with your eyes closed and unresponsive, he used to have this knot in his stomach that would tighten harshly in a way that makes him hallucinate pain. The fear used to make him want to throw up, it used to make his face go red and his fist curl until the nails dig deep into his skin. It feigns an anxiety attack for him, and God knows how to properly handle those.

“[Name]!” he repeatedly called for you, feeling the knot inside of him release its chokehold slowly the longer he has to call for you. But you woke up eventually, your body falling to the side and the sudden impact yanking you out to sleepiness.

You looked around and heaved a sigh, whether it was a relieved one was uncertain to everyone, including you. Turning over to look at Minho, you tilted your head and asked, “Hey, what’s up?”

Your posture was terrible, like usual but much worse now that your shoulders were hunched all over and your neck cranked in longing to take a decent break. Your body was fidgety, a habit you picked up to keep yourself active in movement so you wouldn’t fall asleep. The dark circles under your eyes were starting to get more visible than the smile Minho had always paid more attention, and there was no light in your eyes, just a pit of shadowy doom.

Maybe you were trying your best, but you couldn’t look at him like you love him anymore; your eyes physically could not manifest the affection you felt.

This was his fault. Maybe it wasn’t, you certainly would never blame him for this, but Minho still felt like he was the one putting you through all of this. And he hated seeing you so out of place because you haven’t slept in days, and for what? To get a few more days with him? Honest to God, your mind was barely with him these days anyway.

Minho pursed his lips into a thin line, watching as you struggled to keep your eyes open. And he shook his head. “You should go to sleep. This is killing you.”

You were quick to turn down his suggestion. “No.”

“Go to sleep.”

“I don’t want to,” you said. “I don’t want to go.”

“Well, you are going to have to go either way so why not make that earlier?” he asked, raising his voice, causing your defenses to build up quickly.

You stood up from your seat, your eyes wide in a glare for the first time in days. “What is your problem, Minho? Do you want me to leave so bad?”

“I don’t–“ he breathed out a sigh, closing his eyes to keep his temper low now that yours have been shorter than usual. “I don’t want you to leave. If I get to choose, I will always choose to have you stay here with me, but look at yourself!”

You raised a brow. “What?”

“You’re tired, you are so tired. You have been crying, you eat slow, your temper is short, you barely react to anything anybody says. Even the nurse who came in to check up on me this afternoon asked if you are okay because you don’t look okay!” he exclaimed. Then, sucking in a breath as if gargling his words, he exhaled through a soft huff before he whispered, “I love you, [Name], so much. But not like this. Not when you are so miserable because of me.”

If his existence is causing you pain then he’d rather not have it. As selfish as he wanted to be, he would choose to let you go.

Your arms dropped to your side and you rolled your eyes up. You have told him the same thing before. God, you felt like one of those female leads who cry every single episode, it was so enraging. Everything you have sought to not become, you’ve become it.

Minho moved to the side on his bed, leaving you a spot, and he called out, “Come here.”

You looked back down at him, your sight blurred at the thought of what he meant to do. You were going to walk over, he would wrap you in his arms, and you would fall asleep to his warmth. He would still be here but you would be somewhere else. It would be quick, it would happen before you even know it.

“Come here, please?” he asked again, softly. “Let me hold you.”

You rubbed your eyes and moved over slowly. He helped you as you climbed onto the bed, snuggling up next to his side with your head laid on his shoulder and his arms securely around your torso. He squeezed your arm and breathed out a joking giggle, mentioning something about you getting chubbier and earning a hit on the chest in return.

His fingers shifted through your hair when you looked up at him, and he smiled down at you like nothing was going wrong. Eyeing his lips once, you didn’t hesitate to reach up for a long, loving kiss, one where your tears were mixed with the taste of his mouth.

When you pulled away, you said, “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” he said, shaking his head. “This is actually pretty funny. I am the one who got injured but here we are, crying over you leaving instead.”

You laughed silently, bringing him closer to you. Minho has steady breathing but his heart beat quickly. It rattled against your ears, reminding you that he was as nervous as you were about losing each other. Your senses were shutting down slowly, ready to go into rest when you finally gain the sleep your body has been screaming at you to get.

“I’m sleepy, Minho,” you muttered, adjusting your head.

“I know. You can sleep, it’s okay,” Minho hummed. “You can go. I’m gonna be fine.”

You licked your lower lip, the dryness giving you a sticky sensation. “Love them as much as you love me, alright?”

He couldn’t do that. But he wouldn’t tell you, he wanted you to go without any troubles lingering in your head. He wanted you to leave happily, or as happy as you could be.

Kissing your forehead, he felt your breathing ease up. His hand rubbed your back soothingly as he asked, “Will you remember that I love you?”

You didn’t answer.

Minho stirred uncomfortably in the single hospital bed. As his sense slowly returned to him, he tightened his grip on you, keeping you from falling off. It was nighttime outside, and he supposed a nurse dropped by and turned the lights off when he saw you both sleeping. He could barely remember what happened before he was knocked out.

You shifted slightly by him, head nuzzling against his chest before looking up to find the owner of the body you were cuddling.

“[Name]?” Minho called.

The person jolted from their place. Feet landing coldly on the floor, they fixed their hair and took a wide step away from the bed. “Minho! I’m sorry!” 

His heart dropped. There was his answer: he could tell.

Same face. Same body. Same voice. 

Not you.

Your eyes snapped open and you groaned at the pain oozing at your side. What the hell happened? You could see that you were back in your room, which was weird because the last time you checked, you were on your way to work. You remembered waking up late and rushing out of your apartment, and then everything simply went blank from there.

“Oh, you’re awake! I thought you died or something!”

You sat up on your bed and furrowed your brows at your brown-haired friend. Rubbing your eyes, you yawned and scanned your room, taking in its unfamiliarity with intense suspicion before you turned back to your smiley friend and asked, “Did you move my shit?”

“I just got here like five minutes ago after your mom called me,” he deadpanned. “I was cooking you chicken porridge! She said you blacked out and slept for three days straight, you sleepyhead!”

“Three days–Chan what?” You got off your bed and headed over to your desk where your phone was. You weren’t sure why you needed to check the time, it held no significance to how you were in deep trouble with your boss for ditching work for three days. “Why did no one wake me?”

He handed you a glass of water first, seeing how frantic you appeared right after waking up in the middle of the day. You received it—snatched it—and quickly gulped down the liquid, feeling a sense of relief rush through you when the water hit your throat.

“We tried but you were knocked out cold.” He shrugged. “If you are worried about work, don’t. I talked to our manager for you already. I even exaggerated the part where you almost got in a car crash and died so you needed time to recover from it.”

The water spilled from the glass when you choked in shock. Your brows furrowed harshly as you pulled the glass away, causing more water to flow out of the cup, and you yelled at Chan, “What? I almost got in a car crash?”

He gave you a slow laugh, more concerned than annoyed that you’ve made a mess and yelled at him in the past five seconds. “You almost got hit by a car the other day when you left for work. You were looking at your phone and not paying attention. I had to pull you away from the road! Did you forget all of that?”

You placed the glass of water down on your desk, rubbing your mouth with your forearm harshly. As you brought your hand closer to your mouth, a painful scratch eliciting a yelp from you. Moving your hand away from your face, your eyes trailed up your arm and they widened when you saw the diamond ring located on your fourth finger. You cursed out loud, gaining Chan’s attention, and when his eyes moved towards what you were looking, he too mirrored your confused look.

“What is this!” you asked, looking at him.

“What is what–woah! Did you drunk buy this?” he asked, moving closer to examine the ring on your hand. “You need to return it. You’re crazy. You can’t afford this!”

“I know I can’t afford this,” you exclaimed, glaring at him in defeat. “But I swear I don’t remember ever buying this! Did you see me wearing this when I almost got hit by a car?”

Chan paused for a moment to think. He hadn’t really noticed back then, he was too busy trying to keep your phone-obsessed ass from dying. But if you didn’t have it back then, there should be no way for you to have it now. You have been bedridden, you could not have possibly gotten drunk within the last couple of days, and you would never buy a ring like that when you were sober.

“Did you steal it from someone?” he suggested, feeling the wrath of your impatience as he stepped away from you in precaution. “Oh but you couldn’t–“ 

“No! I don’t know where this ring came from, Chan,” you exclaimed, showing him your hands and grimacing at how perfectly it fit around your finger. “Also, can’t you humor the idea that maybe someone proposed to me?”

“Someone with the money to buy that ring? Uh, no,” he said honestly, putting his hands on his hips in a comical way.

Brushing him off, you slumped back onto your bed with your arm covering your eye. “Whatever. I’ll find out where I got it from somehow.”

“Or you can sell it,” Chan suggested.

You chuckled at the thought. Imagine the amount of money you could get from selling that ring. You did not know about diamonds but you could tell when one looks expensive. Bringing your hand up above your face, you shifted your hand to observe the ring more carefully. A weird sense of comfort rushed through you, making you relax further into your mattress. Coming after the comfort was a very bad sense of nostalgia, one that makes your heart ache for something you couldn’t remember.

“Actually, maybe I’ll keep it,” you muttered, eyes hazy the more you stared at the ring. “I think I want to keep it.”

“Okay.” Chan shrugged at the side. Moving over to your desk, he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Are you gonna be okay? I need to go back to work. Lunch is over for me already.”

“Thank you,” you hummed from the bed, nodding. “I’ll come back to work as soon as I can.” 

“Before you get fired, at least.” He eyed you carefully. You laid motionless on your bed, completely out of it. He nudged your feet with his own to catch your attention. “Are you sure you’re fine?”

“I am fine, Chan.” You rolled your eyes. “Stop nagging.”

He scoffed, but ultimately his voice was soft when he spoke, “I just want to make sure you are okay, alright?”

The nostalgia hit like a rush this time and you held down a flinch. For some reason, Chan didn’t sound so much like him when he said that, but you couldn’t tell whose voice that was. When you turned your head to look at him, your gaze shifted in rapid sequences, like frames changing on a television screen. Chan’s silhouette shifted in blurry motion into a man of slightly smaller but more visibly muscular stature. You felt your body jolt in recognition. 

Recognition? Pause. This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

Let me rewind it. 

Chan scoffed, but ultimately his voice was soft when he spoke, “I just want to make sure you are okay.”

You sniffed away a potential sneeze, hearing Chan’s giggle from your ridiculous expression. Throwing your head back against your bed, you waved your hand at him. “Just go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he said. “Call me if you need anything.”

You hummed loudly in response, not bothering to look up at him. When you heard the front door lock, you groaned out a frustrated sigh and turned to your side. It has been a weird couple of minutes; you almost got in a car crash but you forgot, you slept for three days and you had no idea, you got a diamond ring on your hand which you have no recollection of ever getting. 

You brought your hand up and frowned. The ring was heavy on your hand and it would most likely disrupt your sleep. But there was something else—the nostalgia that was lapping at your chest one wave after another. A feeling beyond your imagination, resting against your heart carefully yet it rattles you like nothing ever has.

“Where did you come from?” you whispered to the diamond ring sitting perfectly on your finger. 

You decided not to take it off.

Never in a million years did Minho think he’d end up relying on Changbin, but he has no other option due to knowing a shared secret. 

“How are you feeling?” Changbin asked after he plopped down on the study room couch. 

Scatters of paperwork piled on the table were deliberately placed messily to distract Minho from his worries. If his eyes were occupied, his mind may be too. Turning the chair, he eyed Changbin nonchalantly by the desk. “My spouse left me.”

“Not good. Noted!” Changbin exclaimed with a single clap of his hands. He ended up awkwardly rubbing them as they laid themselves on his thighs. 

Silence emerged, much like every other time they’ve hung out together. If he could call it anything different, Changbin would consider these moments more mandatory emotional check-ups than hanging out with good friends. Not only was Minho not a good friend, not even with such a golden opportunity, but Minho was never in the mood for anything anymore. In some ways, he has reverted to his grumpy personality, only this time he knew how to be nice about it. He learned it from you. 

“Do you think they’ll ever come back?” 

Changbin looked up from his fiddling thumbs. Minho’s thousand-yard stare burnt holes through the ceiling, but Changbin wasn’t sure if he was thinking about the particular question he voiced. He’s done his fair share of deep-diving about parallel universes and whatnot. Understanding the theories was one thing; accepting that it has been carried out was another.

It still felt impossible. Changbin was holding onto the fact that you have never jumped anywhere, and it was a figment of your imagination that you somehow could portray excellently. 

A character change only takes a good performer or someone fully convinced they’re somebody else. 

The light glimmered as if to add glamour to the rigid atmosphere. Changbin let his neck rest on the back of the couch, and he shrugged. “If they do, you’ll be the first person they look for.”

Light returned to Minho’s eyes. He dreamt about that day. He wondered how it would go. Perhaps seamlessly as the day you first arrived. There won’t be chances of him missing your presence; not only would you make yourself seen, but he was more than sure he would know. A radar within himself would begin blaring sirens—he would just know if you were around again. And it would be a typical day. You would be at home, and he would return home. You would have dinner, you would go to bed together. 

It would finally be a normal day when you come back. 

For now, the glimmer in his eyes fades.

Weeks have passed with the same weight on your shoulders. You have come around to learn how to ignore it. You have learned to distract yourself from it. You work, hang out with people, and entertain yourself with the media. But even then, the grave mistake you made to not take that promise ring off your finger kept reminding you of the shaking sentiment that often shines at the end of the day.

You have looked through different online shops to find out where you could have gotten the ring from. It was a long stretch. You knew it would take ages to find the actual shop, but the promise of long-term confusion somehow assured you that you would have an excuse to keep it with you longer.

It has been weeks, though, and your hope was thinning. You could not find any matches, even after you personally headed over to the shops and asked the staff to take a closer look. You even went so far as to search for the lesser-known brands that would still make rings with diamonds as sparkly and extravagant as the one you got. Nothing, it was like the ring was custom-made, and that made you feel worse about having it.

It must have been really important to the owner, you reckon. It should not be in your hands.

“I feel bad for keeping it,” you spoke to the phone, where Chan sighed on the other side, most likely from irritation. The ring was all you talked about these weeks, aside from occasional work problems and drunken confessions you weren’t afraid to make to him.

“Then sell it.”

“But I don’t want to sell it.”

“Then what do you want to do? I keep giving you suggestions, and you keep shooting me down,” he complained with a helpless whine.

“I want you to tell me what to do!” you exclaimed.

“I say sell it,” he said.

“I don’t want to sell it.”

“I’m hanging up. I can’t take this abuse anymore,” Chan threatened with a yell of frustration. You could imagine him leaning against his chair and pushing it away from his desk, his eyes squinted into moon-shaped smiles, and his nose scrunched up in defeat.

“It’s just… this stupid ring is giving me weird vibes!” You stopped before the road and glanced down at the ring. “I feel sad but also happy when I look at it! Like some sort of deja vu!”

“It’s deja vu. Everyone feels like once in a while,” he said. “Maybe it’s not as serious as you think it is.”

You frowned. Chan was no help at all. From your peripheral vision, you could see that people had started to cross the street, so you followed suit quickly, intending to not block the road and be yelled at by some caffeine-deprived stranger who hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep yet.

“Woah! Hey! Watch the road!”

You snapped your head up. Your eyes first caught the red traffic light, and you gasped. You swore you saw someone move next to you; you should have looked before crossing the road. Turning around and planning to head back to the pedestrian street as it was a shorter distance than moving across the road thoroughly, you could only take one step before honks blared at your ears.

A stranger reached their hand out to grab a fistful of your shirt so they could yank you back to safety. The pull was strong and panicky, like back when you were younger, how your mother would smack you after you did something wrong, but much harder than that. Your gaze wobbled when your head hit a slight whiplash at the force, the sky welcoming your view. Tears unnaturally welled in your eyes as your hands waited for the impact of the ground. 

“No,” you whispered, the blur of a car crash disappearing from your memories. “Minho–“

I will be scratching that off. Let me rewind. 

“Woah! Hey! Watch the road!”

You snapped your head up. Your eyes first caught the red traffic light, and you gasped. You swore you saw someone move next to you; you should have looked before crossing the road. Turning around and planning to head back to the pedestrian street, as it was a shorter distance than moving across the road thoroughly, you could only take one step before the sight of incoming cars made you freeze. 

A stranger reached their hand out to—

Uh, I'm also scratching that off. This is wrong. Nothing happens to you.

How did you manage to get yourself stuck in a near-death situation twice in a row? What is this? Is it some kind of manifestation theory? It's made up.

Let me rewind.

“Woah! Hey! Watch the road!”

You jumped out of the way with a scream, missing the car by a few inches. It scraped past you, causing your body to fall back. Instead of catching yourself in the slow fall, you let your body flail about in the air as more cars slowly closed the distance between themselves and you. Pedestrians standing on the road couldn’t do anything out of sheer intimidation, born from the cars speeding toward you. You looked toward where the honking came from.

Alright, clearly, you are unknowingly in a disagreement with me. I have seen this in prior experiments. Something that involves the biological lack of freedom when your body moves toward what you truly desire? I have seen that before.

You will not hinder this experiment because of it. I am rewinding further.

“It’s deja vu. Everyone feels like once in a while. Maybe it’s not as serious as you think it is,” Chan said. “Look, you’ve been thinking about this too much. How about we go get a drink tonight? 

“I don’t know, Chan,” you muttered with a sigh. “I’ve been feeling really depressed lately.”

“I’m surprised you don’t think I can tell,” he said. “How about this–I’ll buy some drinks, and we’ll hang out at yours. Beats heading outside, right?”

You closed your eyes. That could work. One of the biggest reasons the outside was so unappealing was that you had to step into it. Even now, with the sun shining on your head, you’re quickening your pace to go home.

If Chan was willing to go through the trouble of paying for drinks and hauling them to your apartment, you’ve got no complaints. It might also be an excellent way to forget about this whole deja vu situation.

“Deal,” you confirmed with a soft smile. “I’ll see you tonight, then?”

Chan giggled from the other side, but he didn’t say anything. 

“Woah! Hey! Watch the road!”

The sequence repeats itself. I swore I scratched that off the document.

You snapped your head up from looking at the ground. Your eyes first caught the red traffic light, and you gasped. You swore you saw someone move next to you—stop! I

can’t keep doing this. It’s your muscle memory, isn’t it? That damn biological manifestation theory is real.

Turning around and planning to head back to the pedestrian street as it was a shorter distance than moving across the road entirely, you could only take one step before honks blared at your ears—you are suicidal. You are suicidal over a man your mind cannot begin to make out the silhouette of.

It's pathetic. Stop wasting my time.

You could see the cars coming, but your feet wouldn’t move. Your eyes stared through the danger into a beacon laid far away, the illusion of a man’s face you should have forgotten, and I know for a fact that you weren't supposed to acknowledge you have forgotten someone.

His name echoed silently through your mind, but his warmth remained on your body, in the shape of your arms and the weight on your finger. 

I insult you. I say you cannot remember his silhouette, and the next second, your spite draws a fraction of him in your mind. Or perhaps it wasn't spite but rather love? Is this the lesson you are teaching me? That love and spite are identical? That love stands beyond the mind and the body as its own concept?

You didn't choose to remember, yet you do. Returning to your true home was instinctive, and I’m afraid it is time for me to admit that I have no power to stop you.

Love goes beyond even me. Suppose that's a good lesson to learn.

“Woah! Hey! Watch the road!”

You snapped your head up. Your eyes first caught the red traffic light, and you gasped. You swore you saw someone move next to you; you should have looked before crossing the road. Turning around and planning to head back to the pedestrian street, as it was a shorter distance than moving across the road, you could only take one step before honks blared at your ears. Scared, your knees gave away, and you fell backward.

The screams of others and the urgent car honks were blocked out from your ears. You turned your head to the side and saw a truck running down the road towards you. This one would kill you, you would close your eyes, and you would leave this place. Your lips quirked uncontrollably. 

You would go back to him.

The mesh curtains stayed the same, useless against the sun but pretty with it. The bedsheet was as you felt it the first time, soft and silky yet thick and warm, the ones that make you sleep like you were in a goddamn coma. And Minho was the same as you last remembered seeing him—fluttery lashes, soft brown locks, and naturally pouty lips.

You remembered. 

You pursed your lips into a tight smile to keep a laughing sob from bubbling up your throat. Staring at him, you realize he made you feel the same as you last remembered, and immeasurable affection pulled at your fingertips, longing for a touch of his gentle skin and to feel him close to you. And you did, unapologetically, caressed his face with the back of your fingers.

Perhaps it was a deliberate plan to wake him up, but you wouldn’t admit that to yourself.

Minho stirred in his sleep at the touch. His brows furrowed before he opened his eyes, and when he saw you, his frown only deepened. You (or, well, ‘you’) have never tried to attempt this before, nor has he ever asked for love from them. His mind was occupied by somebody else, someone he thought would never come back to him ever again. Feeling this, having his cheek tenderly stroked in the morning, was surprising and weird.

“Hey, Minho,” you whispered, pinching his cheek slightly.

A shiver so strong it felt like a lightning zap ran down his body. His eyes widened slowly in recognition. He would know. He would just know. Through looking at you, through the feeling of your skin, through the way you space out your words, through the way you control your tone, through the way his ears react to your voice, through everything. He would know. He would be the first to know. 

His eyes moved across your features. You looked the same as he had always seen you, before and after you left. But there was one defining difference he could make: the ring on your hand wasn’t there before. You had taken it with you after you left this place, and now it’s back. 

“[Name],” he croaked out, his hand reaching out to touch your shoulder, gripping it gently.

“I’m home.” You nodded with a smile. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you I’ll be late.”

The tears flow freely down his cheeks. It has been extremely difficult for him to revert to his usual lifestyle and pretend to be in love again. He had tried to bring himself to like ‘you,’ but it was useless. They simply felt different despite looking the same as you. 

He had missed your stupid jokes, the way you could come back home with bags of clothes he rarely has the chance to wear, and the food you cook. The little recurring moments he loved with you, he replayed them every night in the room and didn’t dare to allow himself to forget you.

You took the initiative and moved closer to him. Your palm was flat against his cheek now, and after you lovingly nudged the tip of your noses together, you leaned in to give him a long-awaited kiss. He melted against you, against your lips and your hand, with desperation in each curve of his mouth. He felt like he couldn’t let go. He knew he couldn’t let you go this time, never again.

Reluctantly pulling away, your dazed eyes stared right back into his. You touched his face again, smiling. Minho cupped your hand in his, pressing his forehead against yours with a light whisper, “Do you remember who I am?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

“Who am I?”

The sun shone from outside, casting a ray of warmth at an empty ring box located at the corner of the desk.

“You are Lee Minho,” you said, giving his lips a peck. “You are my husband.”

And you remembered that he told you he loves you, just as you love him.  

[fortpeat]

I'm back again

This was actually part of my previous ask but it was way off topic lol

With regards to the NC scenes and the reactions it's getting from some people: If I'm not mistaken, the same thing happened with lita when they got a little braver in the special episode. Suddenly we had to protect the artists' reputation like they weren't physically doing the things themselves?????? Makes me wonder about the actual ages of the people taking issue with it because as an adult, you should know exactly what other adults may or may not be getting up to

With regards to non-fans having a problem: I think people will always have something to say about queer media especially when the queer media is coming from mame. Even when it comes to just media from mame, people are much harder on her takes than most writers. They want the saucy and raunchy scenes but just not from mame which is so weird. Also as someone who has watched almost everything mame has made, I just don't understand how people act like mame is the only writer to use trauma as a plot device. I'm not saying it's not possible to have a love story with no trauma (we love those over here!) but writers use trauma in varying levels in their stories all the time but mame seems to get the loudest flack. Maybe people are writing think pieces on other directors as well but I've personally only seen these responses directed to or about mame so I thought I would add my 2 cents

Thanks for reading and have a lovely day💕

Well hello again 🥰❤️

Mame gets a lot of hatred for her writing and tbh I don't understand why tho if they want fluffy stories then they can go look for it elsewhere I don't understand why they have to make themselves suffer by watching her content and then spewing hatred everywhere like people get a life and enjoy some sunshine !!! I am very picky with my shows and the only two I have seen of Mame are Love Sky and Love Sea and that's also coz of Fortpeat and they have delivered her stories in the most beautiful spectacular way.

Now I am sure that there are people out there who appreciates Mame's stories coz it makes them feel seen like so many people have with Love Sky. It's just sometimes negativity gets more spotlight than the positive parts 🥺🥺

I wonder if these same people would have issues if this was a straight couple content coz this feels like erasure of queer media you know which is awful coz the queer community has been shut down for so long it's time for them to be loud and proud.

Especially Thai queer media when they are so close to getting their same sex marriage into a law ! Like come on people now is the time to be loud about these things rather than policing about what should and shouldn't be posted ! It it makes you so uncomfortable them block the people who are posting it and go about your way rather than trying to make people feel ashamed about expressing their love!

[sunflowersandcherryblossoms]

hii ive seen one of your posts from September about anti byahisa! i was like really curious as to why you dont like hisana and/or the ship :3 it will be really fun to know from your perspective especially because majority likes the ship (or so i think i dont interact with the fandom alot)!

in my opinion, hisana was pretty..unnecessary? speaking from canon perspective, hisana was literally there to prove the viewers that byakuya was once a soft or gentle man who break laws for his loved ones before his coldness WHICH IS OKAY! 😭 but there were other ways to do it too..or..not do it at all? idk..i can think of a scenario where byakuya never broke laws AT ALL, hisana didnt exist and rukia was his bio-sister . or he broke laws in the past in other ways. whatever seems the best.

My major problem is Hisana is the fan base itself...

She's a plot device, not an independent character by herself.

And a badly written one because of the canon timelines Bleach gives us. (There's supposed to be a century of space between her and Rukia's appearance in the Soul Society and her marriage with Byakuya.)

Which makes it very weird that she seemingly only began being obsessed with finding Rukia AFTER being married to Byakuya.

Also the fandom unwillingness to read between the lines to understand she wasn't in love with Byakuya.

She might have found him kind, attractive and all that. But true love wasn't in the story.

And then she died, which serves as the departing point of Byakuya's extreme personality change. Which is normal. He's grieving.

Grieving is good. Mourning let's you accept the loss and move on...

But the byahisa fandom doesn't let him do that in the slightest...

AUs in which she lives. (making Bleach null and void)

Holding Byakuya to the Pure Widower status, not giving him the right to start over.

As for Hisana being needed? As the plot point is given, I guess she's needed. Dead. She's needed dead.

But she truly wouldn't be needed if Kubo had stuck to his (supposedly) initial plot of Byakuya and Rukia being actual blood siblings and Rukia having broken some really immutable Soul Society laws.

Having Central 46 demanding it be the Kuchiki Clan to hunt one of their own to prove their loyalty at the price of condemning the entire Clan if they refused, would have been much better...

It would bring Byakuya closer to the age his first drawings made him out to be...

Tldr: The fandom's stubborn of romanticizing Byakuya's marriage and his widower status, made me begin to hate a character that was just an absent plot device.

[celestie0]

Love love love ihm and just want to understand why y/n is so panicked about ‘getting caught’. Is getting married for insurance illegal? Ik it’s a bit taboo to question a story lol, but just trying to follow along better! Totally fair if it’s a made up plot device ofc

I’m so excited to see how the story goes, you’re very talented ❤️

hi bb oh not at all i am more than happy to explain anything haha! plus you're so respectful ab it so dw

yes yes so first off i think ihm reader in general has a little bit of a paranoid personality haha. there's been a couple times in ihm where this is alluded to w the difference in her reactions to certain things vs the people around her (like in ch2 when her coworker asks her why she's so paranoid ab everything all the time like getting a medical lawsuit, and when gojo is like who tf is out there tryna sabotage our fake marriage, or sumn like that) but i think that's just kind of how she's grown to be with trust issues and living in constant fear

but yes at least where i live (usa) it is illegal to get married for purely just spousal benefits!! like for example to get an american citizenship or for insurance or tax benefits. in ihm's case, it would be marital fraud as well as insurance fraud. in the research i've done for the series, i know that marital fraud is tough to prove, but there are certain ways that an investigation can prove it, such as: inconsistent statements from both parties, no evidence of relationship prior to the marriage, suspicious timings (for example when someone's visa is expiring or in reader's case in ihm, her mother's illness has progressed), testimony and witness from others close to the alleged couple (that's why her messing up her story in front of her neighbors and also her neighbors not even knowing she had married gojo was a big red flag to choso) etc etc

as for the consequences of getting convicted, i think this part in ihm ch3 kinda lays it out:

"You know the U.S. federal codes in the law for marital & insurance fraud like the back of your hand, since you read through them hundreds of times before deciding if your little arrangement with Gojo would be worth it. 8 U.S.C. 1033 and 18 U.S.C. 371 provide for a penalty of up to ten years in prison for insurance fraud. And under that statute, you can also be fined up to $250,000. The best case scenario is that you just have to divorce Gojo, and forfeit your chances of ever recovering from your crippling debt."

and then obviously in addition to financial penalties, a criminal record can lead to more disadvantages later in life, like issues getting employed, disqualification from certain welfare systems, reader could also potentially lose her nursing license, her insurance claims could be denied and that would lead to abrupt loss of health care for her mother...soooo yea there's some more stuff i looked into too hahah but these are just some reasons to name a few as to why she is very paranoid about it

hope this helps to explain!! <3 much love

[prolestari]

Queen of Tears (2024)

Summary: As a couple faces the breakdown of their marriage, a crisis brings them together to rekindle love.

My Rating: 9/10

Pros: The acting in this show was incredible. Every performance was heartfelt and real, and took the viewer on a true journey navigating familial and romantic relationships.

Cons: Prepare to cry. A lot.

Fanfic-ability: 7/10. There is a lot to be explored regarding the marriage before, during, and after the series, and plenty of side characters to delve into as well.

This show had a 10/10 until the next to last episode, when a plot device decided to throw everything into a spiral. Luckily the ship righted itself for the last episode!

It was genuinely one of my favorite shows of the year and even though I bawled like a baby each week, it was a fascinating look at marriage (especially as someone who is married and has gone through tough times). The two contrasting in-law families were a delight and even though the bad guy was a bit much it had a great mix of warm family shenanigans with melodrama. A must-see for all of you angst lovers out there.

[casliveblog]

Custom Toonami Block Week 175 Rundown

The Witch from Mercury: So IMMEDIATELY after Sul’s duel with Gaston everyone goes ‘wait aren’t the suits that suck the life out of you banned because our war chief is a bloodthirsty dictator?’ and she immediately gets arrested and kicked out of school. Meanwhile Mio’s been told that she’s no longer forced to marry the school’s top pilot and her father is cutting out the middleman and just arranging a marriage for her which she’s like what 16 even for a high business monarchy style thing it seems a little early to lock that down that hard. Also just kinda wondering what the point of even playing at the ‘oh it’s whoever the best is’ if you’re just gonna immediately cut the façade whenever it’s someone you don’t want like why not just force a marriage from the start. Anyway Mio’s like ‘bitch I wanted to marry the gay girl how dare you take back your orders and give me new ones’ like she doesn’t like being told what to do but explicitly seemed a lot more chill about it when it was Sul. Gaston gets beaten by his father for losing and we allude to him being slightly less shitty than we were initially led to believe since he did send some people to clean up Mio’s garden. The bigwigs are all having a NERV-style meeting of shadowy figures and our resident obligatory Masked Gundam Character Prospera is like ‘yeah it looks and functions exactly like a Gundam but it didn’t suck her soul out so it can’t be one, right?’ and no one’s fucking buying that and also it’s a bunch of old men high on their own power so they’re just like ‘well you’re under arrest for building something that functions exactly like the thing we banned then’. Meanwhile Mio shows up, redicrecting her escape attempt to Earth to save Sul and telling her father off and basically having a badass teenage tantrum in a shareholder’s meeting, like it’s kinda cool how blatantly petty and personal her grievances are that it takes some balls to bring it up the way she does surrounded by the most important people in the world that just sentenced a masked lady to jail for technically not breaking the law. She challenges her dad to fight the Aerial and reinstate her engagement to Sul which he has absolutely no obligation to accept given idk if Corporations should really work on Klingon rules anyway and if you’re gonna take shit from him say if you win you get the whole company, go big or go home. But the group discusses that the illegal suit is pretty dope and they wanna get some more data out of it so they agree to let Sul fight to save her Gundam and her lesbian fiancée so that’s good.  

Inuyasha The Final Act: Inuyasha and co. are still soaking in Kikyo’s death and Koga gets an admittedly nice sendoff where he gets to leave on good terms with Kagome as well as get enough out of a rise out of Inuyasha to snap him out of his post-Kikyo coma and get him to resolve to make Koga’s sacrifice worthwhile. I like how Koga intentionally says the most triggering shit just to piss him off at this point like he’s really become self-aware as a character and knows what his role is. Also as another character that embodies the ‘the power to achieve your dreams is inside you’ moral of the story he started out seeking the jewel to obtain the power to unite the wolf demon tribes and ends up so strong that losing his jewel shards is basically just a minor inconvenience and ends up in a relationship that does in fact unite the fractured parts of the tribes. Meanwhile Sesshomaru is talking to his mom about trying to master Meidou Zangetsuha and ends up getting Kohaku and Rin dragged into the underworld during the training. I feel like Sesshomaru’s mom is such wasted potential like she has so little screentime and is basically a plot device they could’ve done so much more with. Once she reveals that Rin can’t be revived again by the Tenseiga Sesshomaru’s grief and compassion evolves both the healing and the meidou side of Tenseiga so he can purify a hundred souls as it was originally stated and create a much larger Meidou Zangetsuha, though Rin still has to be brought back with Mommymaru’s necklace of convenience. It’s really funny that Jaken takes it upon himself to be Sesshomaru’s emotion translator at this point since he knows he’s stoic enough not to cry when Rin dies despite wanting to and also won’t  thank his mom for saving her despite being thankful. Last but not least she tells Kohaku he also can’t be saved by Tenseiga in case people were starting to think that now that he and Sesshomaru are together, apparently you only get one free get out of death free card regardless of the source so yeah. Inuyasha’s group make it their new mission to hunt down and protect Kohaku so they can figure out what to do now that Naraku has 99.9% of the jewel.  

Castlevania: So I’mma be honest, this is where the Internal Vampire politics get kinda frustrating, like I’ve had it in the back of my head that all this infighting may just be a way to ruin Dracula’s otherwise impregnable plan and have a heroic victory while both evil sides are fighting each other and I’m still worried about that considering we’ve spent more time with them than with Trevor this season but in this episode we even find out that all the shit Carmilla wants to do Dracula would’ve just let her do anyway like he doesn’t give a shit, she wants to usurp his armies and the one move that she’s been gunning for since she walked in the door they’re just like ‘sure go nuts’ and the planning of the past like three episodes has basically been for that. I’m getting ahead of myself, Trevor’s group stuff first since we actually make some progress on that this episode. Basically Alucard gives Sypha the reverse speech that Trevor gave her last time about how he’s a dick and they can’t really trust him and like 75% of this show at this point is untrustworthy vampires telling people they can’t trust people. Sypha wisely asserts they’re both morons and they’ve gotta suck it up and get to world-saving or else everyone’s fucked. But yeah back on Carmilla’s weird warpath they don’t know Godbrand’s dead and Isaac is called by Hector to get him to sign off on going to Braila and get in on the Carmilla cult. Isaac is not down for Carmilla but he is for the Braila plan since it means everyone can shut up about it and Carmilla can stop whining so the politics of it don’t functionally matter, like it’s been such a long fight for this and it doesn’t functionally matter because they just do it anyway. Granted Isaac does it because it means their traitors are all in one place with a name and a face and Hector does it because everyone that talks to Carmilla is like ‘Carmilla is always going on about how she doesn’t trust or respect anyone but I’M DIFFERENT, I’M THE SPECIAL ONE’ like Godbrand was a fucking moron so that was fine but geez she’s not even being seductive enough for them to be thinking with their dicks they’re just idiots, she’s not even good at the manipulation considering if she’d just asked Dracula to do it he’s so done at this point he prolly would’ve. She doesn’t even bother to pretend this was Hector’s independent idea and follows him into the room coaching him and shit. Like the only functional thing this does is make Carmilla the Commander in Chief for this fight for… some reason, and like it’s not even a good argument because the two sides are ‘do something’ and ‘do nothing’ and Carmilla has the balls to be all ‘haha now you’re in too deep Hector so I don’t have to pretend to like you anymore’ like BITCH AS LEAST WAIT TILL YOU ACTUALLY HAVE THE REINS like holy shit all you did was convince Dracula to do something he wasn’t all that adverse to doing in the first place you’re not exactly Sosuke Aizen and she has this weird girl power bent to some of her speeches and I’d really rather girls just do the badass girl power thing instead of talking about how girly and empowered they are all the time. Long story short I don’t really like Carmilla and this plot had a really weird end to this section of the season for basically taking up half the runtime. Meanwhile, actual girl power girl Sypha found a way to trap Castlevania in one place as long as she can jerry-rig an ending to the spell that’s like 80% done but she doesn’t have a lot of time because the castle just showed up like… five minutes ago.

Jujutsu Kaisen: It’s Mahito versus Nobara time and apparently Mahito’s clone can’t transfigure souls and can only do the Clayface body warping shit and Nobara actually figures this out and uses the clone’s body as a substitute Straw Doll like she did with the other guy’s arm cause semantically the clone is basically Mahito’s arm and she wrecks him up from long distance, saving Yuji from an ambush in the process and giving him the opportunity to beat the shit out of Mahito while he’s stunlocked. Rather than keep going through that shit, Mahito employs the Joestar Family’s Secret Technique and books it the fuck out of there. The two Mahitos actually meet up and switch, the real one attacking Nobara while Yuji beats the other one’s head in. Mahito gives Nobara’s face a quick tap and isn’t sure if he killed her, like this whole exchange is excruciatingly vague about whether she’s dead or not but we jump straight into her backstory which isn’t a good sign. It’s basically a fleshed-out version of the story she told in the beginning of the series. I feel like this happens a lot where characters in long-running series have simple backstories at the beginning and then have a secondary supplemental flashback to beef up the tragedy or reframe the original flashback, half the cast of One Piece has done this at this point but for Nobara it’s an interesting retelling of her story through the eyes of her friends and giving a ‘this is your life’ type deal about who she’s loved and why she’s done what she’s done that gives a lot better of an idea of who she is than her original introduction. But yeah her eye fucking explodes which is weirdly not how we’ve seen Mahito’s powers work anywhere else but it was just a light tap while he was in a hurry and maybe her energy resisted it or something. Given that and the vagueness where even Mahito’s not sure if it was enough to kill her I’m tempted to say she’s not dead because usually you don’t want to be ambiguous about that shit unless you’re gearing up for a big return but as far as I know the manga’s already fighting Sukuna at this point and she’s yet to make a comeback so who fucking knows.

Delicious in Dungeon: After Laios’s sword gets busted he tells the story of how he got it fighting a bunch of living armor in the dungeon and how he fucked up and died the first time, confirming that death does indeed have no consequences which explains Marcille’s dialogue in the first episode and why no one seems too worried about rushing to get Falin. Still I’d say if death has no consequences in your series that’s something you’d want to establish right away because that is kind of an investment breaker, something like how DBZ put limits on the dragon balls at first and made loopholes harder so death isn’t just meaningless like it is in the Buu Saga. Still I kinda like this episode since it’s mainly focused on one thing and the food stuff doesn’t get in the way of the storytelling too much. They manage to sneak past the living armor colony and Laios fights Ornstein and it turns out it’s a bunch of mollusks living in the layers of the armor and doing weird goopy Alphonse Elric shit. They cook them and Laios gets Ornstein’s sword but it has a mollusk living inside it still so he’s basically got a living weapon which is pretty neat.

Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End: Frieren confronts Aura and surprisingl the Autistic Elf Power Hour has its second encounter with Living Armor this week, what’re the odds? Aura basically has the Millenium Scales except instead of summoning a demon to eat a Musuem Curator she weighs their power level and just instantly controls anyone weaker than her with the caveat that if someone stronger than her shows up she just automatically gets controlled instead. I’m kinda sad this means Aura doesn’t actually have a demon army like this was just a plot by four guys and not a whole organized force but I guess it’s fine. She uses an anti-spell spell to dispel the control instead of blasting nameless husks into the ground and desecrating their corpses because Himmel yelled at her last time for disrespecting the dead. Aura asks her why she cares what a corpse thinks and oh it is ON now. Meanwhile Fern and Stark are preparing for Stark to book it out of dodge and try and get Frieren back to fight the other two demons when they get caught in an ambush by Blood Sephiroth and the little girl. Turns out the little girl’s powers are Unlimited Blade Works/Sharingan shenanigans where she can create a weapon and mimic a fighting style by watching it enough and she’s just so happened to have copied Eisen’s style during the first war and decks Stark with his own moves but better. Meanwhile it seems Fern’s ability is Quick Draw and she can just fire off spells crazy rapid and puts the push on Blood Sephiroth in a really cool fight that creates literal fireworks. Stark takes Eisen’s words of “Just don’t die, stupid” to heart and does that thing from Samurai Champloo where if you leave yourself wide open enough it leaves the enemy wide open for their counterattack and destroys the little girl so yay, two down two to go.

Vinland Saga: War has reached Ketil’s farm and he’s got about 300 farners with pitchforks versus Canute’s 100 Jommvikings and Royal Theigns so yeah it’s basically the coughing baby versus the hydrogen bomb. Luckily Thorfinn’s met up with Leif and Leif’s a fucking chad and agrees to take on all of Thorfinn’s extra baggage he’s gathered over the past season and transport Arnheid out of there while the fighting’s going on. Snake tells his men that Ketil is a fraud and was never a war hero because he knew the guy his name was actually based on and came to him for help but at the same time he feels indebted to the family that’s taken care of him all this time and it’s really funny to watch his speech about how Ketil’s a fraud and not worth dying over right as he goes out to die for him fires his men up more than anything, like actions really do speak louder than words. Ketil’s kinda bought into his own hype at this point and isn’t listening to the dozens of people telling him he’s going into a meatgrinder and yeah it’s a fucking massacre, I imagined Thorfinn would be more upset watching this or trying to actively broker peace talks but I guess he’s got other shit on his plate right now since Arnheid’s on death’s door and got her ghost husband’s permission to go say her last goodbyes. Meanwhile Thorgil’s just gonna pop out of the ocean buck naked with a sword and try and cut Canute’s head off behind enemy lines so that’s… a plan I guess. I have no clue how he intends to get out of there even if he succeeds but okay, you do your naked regicide.

[hellsbellschime]

One thing that has always irked me is how a lot of fans think as soon as RLJ is revealed that the throne will be just somehow be for Jon's taking and all he has to do is accept or deny Kingship, but the only two people who can confirm his parentage with certainty (R and L) are dead. I think Howland Reed will reveal Jon's parentage to him which is why he's been kept alive so far and maybe Bran, being some all-seeing omniscient wizard-esque character, will backup Reed's story but this doesn't mean that Westerosi nobility or the smallfolk will believe any of it and just accept Jon sitting on the throne out of literal no where? For all they know, Reed or Jon could have an agenda or could be lying for literally any other reason, etc. On top of that, Jon being the "rightful or legitimate" heir to the Targ dynasty is suspect at best lol. I'm not even going to address the asinine "annulment" of R's fully consummated royal marriage which produced two children that the show concocted because it's just too stupid to even contemplate and as much of a douche I think R was I think even he would realize he can't throw away his marriage without causing a rebellion with Dorne, its allies, and all the other noble lords across the houses who want to avoid a succession crisis. I could, however, see him being dumb enough to think he could make some bizarre Targ poly-marriage with two wives work but that doesn't mean any marriage between him and and L would have been seen as valid by literally anyone else. In fact, I am 99 percent sure, based on the most basic laws of feudal/medieval Westerosi society that GRRM set forth, no marriage outside of R and E's would have been seen as valid or legitimate no matter what delusions R and L may have had and thus any children they had would have been bastards lol. I say all this because I see fans complain that the "RLJ reveal didn't even mean anything in the show besides being a plot device to move D's arc along" and I mean, yeah? LOL. I think in the books the reveal will have more impact to Jon and the Starks on an emotional level and on Jon's personal dynamic with D , but I don't think it will change the political landscape the way Jon fans think it will or should.

Yes totes, I mean look at how clusterfucky Stannis' journey has been throughout the story, and he is technically the most rightful king of Westeros at the moment, at least in the eyes of many in Westeros. Given GRRM's writing style, I would not be remotely surprised if the RLJ thing is way more driven by personal drama than political, like sure it matters both ways, but the presumption that it's important because it makes him the "rightful king" rather than it being important because it causes an identity crisis for him is a little odd. Jon's claim could cause some drama when Aegon and Dany are fighting for the throne, but the Targaryens aren't the "rightful" rulers at this point and they almost certainly won't be seen as that by the time the series end comes either.

[wowieweirdwarlock]

Best Bosses: Mestama, The Mother of Witches.

Demon lord of cruelty, deception, & Hags.

Source: The Book of The Damned.

“Patron of hags, vengeful widows, and witches, Mestama takes great delight in murdering young women on the eve of their wedding day so she can take their forms and wed their husbands-to-be…

At the height of such a marriage’s consummation, she returns to her true form, castrates the new husband and vanishes. Those who survive often receive visits decades later from twisted and hideous half-fiends—their sons or daughters, sent by Mestama to finish off the job and murder their fathers.”

Mestama, Mother of Witches, is one of the cruelest beings in the multiverse. Even by Hag standards, she is beyond corrupt, seeking out nothing but deception, pain, and unexpected violence for every being she encounters. Even her very presence exacerbates wounds and breaks down companionships.

Subtle Methods. Mestama, while more than capable of violence, prefers to deal with enemies and victims subtly. She will often work within a group to break it down, attempting to turn members on eachother. She will twist support and corrupt good intentions; For example, she could meddle with healers’ supplies, causing a desperate cure for a disease to transform the ill into fiendish monsters. When Mestama’s plots are revealed, she lashes out, often making errors and cutting corners to punish any who dare to ruin her fun.

Hateful Cult. Mestama’s worshippers, comprised of eunuchs and women who live to spread cruel deeds and deception. They view competing faiths and organizations with pure hatred, and often wage hidden wars on other cults. Oftentimes, good factions will take advantage of this recklessness, disguising themselves as evil cults and hosting mock sacrifices to attract the ire of a local Mestaman cult. When these false cults are revealed, the shame and despair of being deceived causes these groups to lash out, for they know they only have a matter of hours before their mistress comes to punish their failure.

The Mother of Witches’ Lair:

Mestama’s layer of the Abyss, The Barren Wood, is a twisting and confusing birch forest.

Arboreal Portals. Some deep woods in the Material Plane connect to the Barren Wood. Mortals who wander too deep into these forests risk becoming lost forever. Maps lose relevance, compasses and navigation devices malfunction, and trails become unreliable when within the Barren Wood.

Dangerous Domain. The Barren Wood is full of traps waiting for visitors. In addition to traditional pits and snares left for beings to walk into, the Hag Mother’s minions set up huts along the major paths. These seemingly safe havens are often pleasantly lit, with delicious aromas wafting from open doorways. After beings let their guards down in these places, they wake to find themselves trapped at a Hag’s mercy, or even in the clutches of Mestama herself.

Corrupted Nature. The traditional laws of nature don’t apply in this horrid realm, with day and night merging into perpetual twilight. Even time doesn’t advance the way it should— Victims missing for a few days could reappear as ancient skeletons, or people trapped for years could reappear having only been dead a few hours. Every single part of this domain exists to serve Mestama, and to disorient her victims.

Ideas for using Mestama in a campaign:

A chaotic good church offers the party free healing and board if they undertake a risky endeavor. The party must join a group of worshippers to stage a fake sacrifice in order to lure out a hidden Mestaman sect. To add an extra layer of intrigue, it could turn out that this is the whole plan of the Mestamans all along, and the “fake” sacrifice will actually summon an agent of Mestama.

A desperate Changeling approaches the party, offering them all of her earthly riches if they will kill her Hag mother and her coven. She leads them to the Coven’s lair, only to be revealed as the Coven’s leader in disguise. They are a trio of Mestama’s Daughters, seeking to garner her attention by deceiving a whole adventuring party.

An investigator in service to a king reaches out to the party, desperate for help investigating a strange string of deaths. Each of the king’s heirs has been turning up dead on their wedding night, with the bride/ seemingly vanished into thin air. It turns out, one of the castle’s maids is secretly a worshipper of Mestama who summoned her patron into the castle to get cruel revenge for her years of mistreatment.

I am unfortunate enough to have met a few of the Mother of Witches’ vile-hearted servants. One will never meet a more cruel or malicious group of people, as Mestama only garners the worship of society’s most shamed and mistreated members.

Widows, spinsters, and beggars all flock to the Hag Queen’s covens, seeking the power to get revenge on the world that turned its back on them.

Chief among her servants are the vile witches known as Hags. Some are genuinely descended from this Demon Lord, but “Mother of Witches” is mostly an epithet. She teaches many witches their dark arts, and many covens praise her in the dead of night.

If you ever encounter strange groupings of black-hearted crones or derelicts practicing corrupt magic, be very cautious. They may be more than they seem, driven by the black-hearted Mother Hag.

- A Weird Warlock.

[whiterose-fans-blog]

You just know that on Weiss's cold yet high tech world of Mantel, she still leads in her position as Queen, with Winter as her General, and Whitley as her Treasurer. Even though she retains the title of Senator, the Emperor has stolen most of her and every other senators power on a galactic scale.

Despite this, she's a big funder and major supplier of the rebellion, along with her ally, Alderann with Senator Organa.

During this time, Yang is running a private enterprise as a blockade runner for the Republic Army. The Separatists put up a blockade, she flies right through it, and delivers supplies. She saw a lot of action over Ryloth.

But that's not all her rebellious actions are, as she is also hiding her wife, the Jedi Knight, Ruby Rose-Schnee. From Mantels moon of Vale, Ruby is sent to the Jedi Order. During the Clone Wars, she is a Jedi Knight made General of the Republic 108th Volunteer Core (Non Clone Battalion).

Falling in love during the Clone Wars, while Ruby defends Mantel from the Separatists, Weiss let's Ruby warm her life on this cold world. Inspired by Jedi Council Member Anakin Skywalker's marriage to Senator Padme, they marry in secret with only close friends around.

Not really much for rules, even though she had to give her baby sister Ruby to the Jedi Order, she didn't let that stop her from seeing Ruby. She's broken into the Jedi Temple on Corusant countless times, and played with Ruby when the Jedi weren't looking.

Did this make Ruby a weird Jedi? Maybe.

Did she teach Ruby to flirt with the Ice Queen? Possibly.

Did the Jedi not like Yang breaking in? Yep.

Did she help Ruby get around the Jedi Code and marry Weiss in secret? Absolutely.

One day, she gets boarded by Death Watch because she got a little too close to Mandalore. There, she meets their squad leader, Blake.

Blake, a warrior for Mandalore, defies her parents warnings about joining Death Watch. She starts fighting the Mandalorian Duchess Satine alongside Adam and the Death Watch. She has hidden her sensitivity to the force tho, unsure what to do with that.

But one day, she runs into Yang Xiao Long, a pilot for the Republic. She takes her prisoner, and Yang is imprisoned on Mandalore. But Blake can't get Yang out of her head. She's inexplicably drawn to her. Even seeing Yang in her dreams in what she thinks is a possible future.

Yang is pretty bored in the cells of Death Watch. But the pretty lady named Blake constantly visits her. She discovers that Blake is just like her sister Ruby, a force sensitive individual. Yang teaches Blake the ways of the Force she's learned from Ruby and her time at the Jedi Temple.

After about 2 months, Blake falls for Yang. They start having secret rendezvous in Yang's cell, making out and plotting their escape together, away from Mandalore.

But after just a month into their relationship, Blake comes to Yang's cell with blaster marks all over her armor, luckily lazer proof. Darth Maul has slain the leadership of Death Watch, killed Adam, and taken over Mandalore. Time for an exit. At least Obi-wan Kenobi was keeping Darth Maul busy. Flying to Mantel, Yang asks her sister-in-law if she needs a Mandalorian bodyguard.

After Order 66, the 4 of them stay on Mantel as the galaxy falls under the control of the Empire. When Darth Vader came around, Weiss fakes Ruby's death right in front of him as a bounty hunter slays her (Blake being that fake bounty hunter). Satisfied, a sobbing Queen holding the corpse of her beloved, Darth Vader leaves Mantel to it's devices. The wonders a death plant can do, fooling even Darth Vader.

She then hides Ruby in the palace, often pleading with Ruby not to join the Rebellion front lines. Yang on the other hand, can't contain herself. She kisses Blake good luck as head of security for Weiss, and flies to the aid of the Rebellion.

The four of them silently pray to the Force, for hope, that someday, the Emperor will be overthrown, and the galaxy liberated.

RWBY X Star Wars AU! :D

[snamioneasks]

I'm looking for a fic, two actually. One involves Hermione binds herself to Snape and begins to spiral out of control with anger and only Snape can calm her down.

And the second is the marriage law fic where Hermione uses Earth magic or something for her bonds since she wasn't magical as a child and they have to copulate as Severus is being summoned leading to him hurting her. I remember her sleeping on a pallet on the floor in his room.

The second fic is:

Care of Magical Creatures by mia madwyn - M, 67 chapters - MLC-Seventh Year student Hermione Granger decides to marry the one eligible wizard who did not ask for her-the horrid but powerful Severus Snape. Angst, humor and lemons. Award Winner COMPLETE

Does anyone have an idea of which fic the first ask might be referring to? This description ring some bells, but I can't put my finger in which fic it is.

[pagebypagereviews]

The realm of psychological thrillers teems with tales of deceit and moral ambiguity, yet few stand out as starkly as "The Silent Wife: A gripping emotional page turner with a twist that will take your breath away." This novel, penned by contemporary author Kerry Fisher, is a masterclass in narrative tension and emotional depth, drawing readers into the volatile dynamics of a seemingly perfect marriage unraveling at the seams. At its heart, the story circles around Lara, a woman grappling with painful secrets and the façade of contentment, and Maggie, her sister-in-law, who harbors her own hidden sorrows and insights. The intersection of these complex female perspectives injects a refreshing authenticity, challenging conventional tropes and pushing the psychological thriller genre into new emotional territories. What makes "The Silent Wife" significant is not just its ability to titillate the senses or keep readers perched on the edge of their seats, but also its profound exploration of the unspoken struggles that put relationships to the test. Fisher adeptly dissects themes of betrayal, silence, and the oppressive weight of societal expectations. The book adeptly bridges the gap between a gripping narrative and the poignant realities of emotional survival in marriage, addressing the often-taboo topic of domestic emotional turbulence with finesse. For readers wrangling with their battles or seeking deeper understanding within their personal lives, this tale serves as a mirror and a beacon, offering both solace and sobering truths. ## Plot The plot of "The Silent Wife: A gripping emotional page turner with a twist that will take your breath away" is a masterclass in tension and unexpected turns. The narrative revolves around the protagonist, a wife who finds herself entangled in a web of deceit, betrayal, and hidden secrets. As the story unfolds, each chapter adds a new layer of complexity, keeping readers on the edge of their seats. The author expertly paces the storyline, alternating between moments of intense suspense and emotional revelation. Several key plot points, such as the unraveling of the protagonist's marriage and the shocking discoveries she makes about her husband's clandestine activities, serve as crucial turning points that propel the narrative forward. ## Characters The characters in "The Silent Wife" are richly developed and multi-dimensional, each contributing to the story's depth and intrigue. The protagonist, whose journey is central to the narrative, is portrayed with an intricate blend of vulnerability and resilience. Her emotional arc is compelling, reflecting the complexities of dealing with betrayal and the quest for truth. Secondary characters, such as the protagonist's husband, her confidants, and even the antagonists, are intricately woven into the storyline. These characters are not mere plot devices but are given substantial backgrounds and motivations that make them believable and relatable. Their interactions with the protagonist highlight various facets of the human condition, from love and loyalty to fear and deception. ## Writing Style The writing style of "The Silent Wife" is both evocative and engaging, making it a standout in the genre of psychological thrillers. The author's use of descriptive language paints vivid pictures of the settings and characters' emotions, pulling readers into the world of the story. Dialogue is another strong suit, with exchanges between characters feeling natural and authentic, often laden with subtext that hints at deeper underlying tensions. The narrative voice is clear and distinct, guiding the reader through complex emotional landscapes and intricate plot twists. Furthermore, the author employs a deft hand at balancing showing versus telling, providing enough detail to evoke empathy and understanding without overwhelming the reader with unnecessary exposition. ## Setting The setting of "The Silent Wife" plays a crucial role in establishing the mood and tone of the novel.

The story is primarily set in a suburban environment, which starkly contrasts with the dark, suspenseful events that unfold within its seemingly tranquil confines. This juxtaposition amplifies the sense of unease, as familiar and safe locales become the backdrop for the protagonist's growing fears and suspicions. The author describes these settings with meticulous detail, from the layout of the family home to the serene yet unsettling nature of the neighborhood. This attention to setting not only grounds the story in a believable reality but also enhances the suspense by highlighting the eerie normalcy that masks underlying threats. ## Unique Aspects "The Silent Wife" stands out for several unique aspects that distinguish it from typical novels in the psychological thriller genre. One of its most striking features is the twist that redefines the entire narrative, challenging readers’ assumptions and expectations. This twist is not just a gimmick but is intricately woven into the plot, altering the reader's perception of previous events and characters. Another unique aspect is the deep psychological exploration of marital dynamics, providing a lens into how trust and communication—or the lack thereof—affect relationships. Additionally, the book's portrayal of the protagonist's internal struggles offers a nuanced view of resilience and recovery, making it more than just a suspenseful read but also a profound examination of human emotion and strength. Similar to The Silent Wife: A gripping emotional page turner with a twist that will take your breath away Book Review Pros Cons Engaging Plot: The plot is gripping and keeps the reader hooked, which enhances the entertainment value. Well-developed Characters: Characters are detailed and multi-dimensional, making them relatable and interesting. Emotional Depth: The book delves into complex emotions, providing a deeply engaging emotional experience. Unexpected Twist: The surprising twist towards the end adds excitement and keeps the reader intrigued. Easy to Read: The writing style is accessible and fluid, making it a quick and engaging read. Predictable Elements: Some parts of the story may feel predictable to seasoned readers, which could reduce the thrill. Pacing Issues: Certain sections of the book may feel slow, leading to potential loss of interest. Character Stereotypes: Some characters fall into stereotypical roles, which might limit their complexity. Emotional Overload: The intense emotional aspects might overwhelm some readers. Unresolved Subplots: A few subplots may feel unresolved, which could lead to dissatisfaction. Plot and Genre When evaluating "The Silent Wife: A gripping emotional page turner with a twist that will take your breath away," it’s crucial to consider its plot and genre. This book is categorized as a psychological thriller interwoven with elements of domestic suspense. The story focuses on complex relationships and deep emotional underpinnings, making it an ideal choice for readers who appreciate intricate, character-driven narratives. An understanding of these aspects can help potential readers gauge whether this book aligns with their literary preferences. Author's Writing Style The writing style of an author can greatly influence the reading experience. Look for reviews and excerpts that highlight how well the author uses language, constructs sentences, and develops the plot. Investing in "The Silent Wife" will be more enjoyable if you appreciate the narrative style employed by the author. Sometimes, reviews from fellow readers can provide valuable insights into whether an author's style resonates with you. Character Development Character development is a critical element in any gripping novel. Consider the complexity and growth of the characters within "The Silent Wife." Well-developed characters can make a substantial difference in how engaging and relatable the story becomes. Reader reviews often shed light on whether characters are multi-dimensional and evolve effectively throughout the narrative.

Plot Twists and Suspense For a psychological thriller, plot twists and suspense are vital components. "The Silent Wife" promises a breathtaking twist that will take your breath away. Assessing other reviews can be useful in determining whether the book successfully delivers on its promise of keeping readers on the edge of their seats. Look for keywords such as "unexpected," "twist," and "suspense" in reviews to gauge the effectiveness of the plot twists. Pacing and Length The pacing of a book can significantly impact your reading experience. Thrillers typically require a balance between steady tension and moments of heightened suspense. Check if "The Silent Wife" maintains a consistent pace suitable for your liking. Additionally, consider the book’s length to ensure it fits well with your reading time constraints. Reader Reviews and Ratings Reviews and ratings from other readers can provide valuable insights into the overall reception of the book. Look for common themes in both positive and negative reviews of "The Silent Wife." This will help you identify potential strengths and weaknesses of the book, enabling you to make an informed decision. Price and Availability Evaluate the price and availability of the book across different platforms. "The Silent Wife" might be available in various formats, including hardcover, paperback, and e-book versions. Comparing prices from different retailers can help you find the best deal. Also, consider checking if the book is available at local libraries or through subscription services for a more cost-effective option. Book Awards and Recognitions Books that have received awards or recognitions are often worth considering. Check if "The Silent Wife" has been acknowledged by reputable literary institutions or has appeared on bestseller lists. Such accolades can be a testament to the book’s quality and appeal. Recommendations from Trusted Sources Recommendations from trusted sources such as book clubs, literary critics, and friends can also guide your purchase decision. If "The Silent Wife" comes highly recommended by sources whose opinions you value, it may be worth adding to your reading list. ```html FAQ What is "The Silent Wife" about? "The Silent Wife" is a gripping emotional thriller that focuses on the secrets and lies within a seemingly perfect marriage. It delves deep into the complexities of relationships, with a twist that will leave readers breathless. Who is the author of "The Silent Wife"? The author of "The Silent Wife" is Kerry Fisher, a bestselling writer known for her emotionally charged and gripping novels. Is "The Silent Wife" part of a series? No, "The Silent Wife" is a standalone novel, though Kerry Fisher has written other books that explore similar themes. What genres does "The Silent Wife" fall under? This book is primarily categorized under psychological thriller and contemporary fiction, with strong elements of domestic drama and suspense. Who would enjoy reading "The Silent Wife"? Readers who enjoy emotional thrillers, stories about complex relationships, and unexpected plot twists will find "The Silent Wife" compelling and hard to put down. How long is "The Silent Wife"? "The Silent Wife" consists of approximately 320 pages, making it a moderately quick read for most readers. Are there any trigger warnings for this book? Yes, the book deals with themes of infidelity, emotional abuse, and domestic turmoil, which may be triggering for some readers. Is "The Silent Wife" available in audiobook format? Yes, "The Silent Wife" is available in audiobook format, as well as in eBook and paperback formats. What makes "The Silent Wife" unique compared to other thrillers? "The Silent Wife" stands out due to its deep emotional impact, well-developed characters, and a twist that surprises even seasoned readers of the genre. The psychological depth and exploration of marital dynamics add a unique layer to the narrative. Can I find "The Silent Wife" at my local library? Availability can vary, but many libraries do carry "The Silent Wife.

" It’s recommended to check with your local library or their online catalog to ensure they have a copy. ``` In conclusion, "The Silent Wife: A gripping emotional page turner with a twist that will take your breath away" stands as an enthralling read that will keep you hooked from beginning to end. With its intricate plot, well-developed characters, and surprising twists, it offers a compelling narrative that delves deep into the human psyche and the complexities of relationships. This book not only delivers suspense and emotional depth but also provides readers with profound insights into the fragile nature of trust and the layers of secrets that can exist within a marriage. Whether you're a fan of psychological thrillers or seeking a richly woven story that will leave you pondering long after the last page, "The Silent Wife" is a valuable choice. Adding this gripping novel to your reading list promises a thought-provoking and intensely immersive experience that you won't soon forget. Other The Silent Wife: A gripping emotional page turner with a twist that will take your breath away Book Review buying options

[repromed15062023]

Fatal Liquid Nitrogen Launch At Us Sperm Bank Business

Agreement between measurements was evaluated with a Bland-Altman plot. Strong correlation was found between the investigated devices for all the three parameters, i.e. sperm concentration, TM and PM. However, a couple of measurements fell exterior the outlined vary of acceptance. In principle, it is attainable to use the identical sperm donor for siblings. However, this is depending on availability, and sure limits on the variety of occasions a single donor is bought in the same country. Because of this, when you decide early on after a first pregnancy that you simply would like to use the same donor in the future, it's advisable to buy extra prematurely, which may be stored by sperm banks and fertility clinics for you.

Pricing for Donor Sperm at ReproMed ranges relying on your necessities and will be discussed throughout therapy. Your particular person case shall be reviewed by your treating Doctor nonetheless it is reasonable to think about pursuing the subsequent steps in assisted conception applied sciences after 2-3 IUI attempts. Etsy is no longer supporting older versions of your net browser to have the ability to be sure that user data remains safe.

We will contribute in the direction of the value of visiting a Nutritionist, Dietician or Acupuncturist. Just maintain your receipts and ship them in to us to claim for this profit. We will contribute in path of the cost of a screening which includes a Hormone Profile, Semen Analysis and/or Progesterone Levels. About - Van Gogh is among the most versatile stallions on our roster.

The success rate for IVF will depend on the age and fertility potential of the feminine patient. Our success price of profitable pregnancies (seeing a heartbeat at 8 weeks) using donor sperm with girls underneath 35 is 60%, and 41% with patients over 35 years of age. As part of the therapy coordination process, all patients wishing to embark on donor-assisted treatment see the fertility counsellor for an implications counselling session. The session is not an evaluation however a discussion to discover sperm donation ireland the practicalities and emotional parts particular to utilizing a donor to construct your liked ones. Listen to our donation podcast where our counsellor explains the implications counselling course of and how to put together for donation treatment. Exploratory statistical checks shall be conducted to check the relationships between variables and differences by sample of threat behaviours/states (for instance, t-tests, chi-squared exams, ANOVA tests).

A marriage ceremony photographer has claimed to be Britain's "most successful sperm donor", having fathered no much less than forty children. JAPANESE SCIENTISTS HAVE launched a sperm bank for endangered animals that uses freeze-drying expertise they hope may one sperm donation day help people recreate animal populations on other planets, the chief researcher said today. The demand for sperm donors is now so high that there are a variety of websites for the service.

treatment are coated beneath the Drugs Payment Scheme. She said that her lesbian relationship had broken down with the strain of caring for the 2 boys’ special needs. Both boys confirmed developmental delays in early toddlerhood, refusing to make eye contact or interact with other children or adults. Annette has exclusively practised household law in the litigation division for the past 10 years and heads up the agency's Surrogacy & Fertility legislation group. She is extremely revered and regarded for her experience and data of fertility law, surrogacy and same-sex household matters.

This considering has led to some ladies feeling anxious and susceptible concerning their very own hopes and goals of turning into a father or mother and having a household of their own. “That’s a very current development over the previous 12 months as a result of we have been struggling to search out the donors for ladies sperm donor ireland who need sperm donation. The 2015 Children and Family Relationships Act supplied for a ban on nameless donations and for the creation of a register to allow donor-conceived youngsters obtain personal family information once they flip 18. The expense of having kids is widely acknowledged, and I suspect you have already thought of this side.

This consideration will help you to determine on between an Extended Profile and a Basic Profile. An Extended Profile accommodates plenty of personal info including baby photographs, persona tests sperm bank and possibly an audio clip with the donor’s voice. A sperm donor with a Basic Profile solely offers you with the important information corresponding to ethnicity, physical characteristics and education/job.

[the-portrait-of-seraph]

August’s Review...

.

Hey everyone, sorry for not be active as per usual ehe. I’ve been juggling junior year for only a few weeks now and I absolutely can’t stand it haha

The Fountainhead: Rand, Ayn

I liked the book, but didn't like the person behind it. Now, I don't hate a lot of authors in particular, but Ayn Rand was just so wrong on so many levels? She was extremely critical of any philosophy that collided with her's/just didn't like, and that's not exactly the best approach for a scholar to have-

You have the non-conforming architect Howard Roark and he's up against the entire world and their idea of the standard/ideal building; it's drama-filled with Roark fighting tooth and nail against his enemies and his lover/future wife, Dominique.

About Dominique, she reminds me a lot of Nastasya Fillipovna from The Idiot. She can be so loving, but so manipulative and drive dozens of men to their demise (and we love her for that). I felt like she was more of a plot device than an actual three-dimensional character, which makes me very sad. I did feel that her marriage to Roark in the ending was a little disappointing, because I felt like it was expected to happen.

If I had to choose who was my "favorite", I think I would say it was Roark, only because his problems were so similar to mine, other than that, most of the characters didn't stand out to me that much. If you want drama and struggle, I would recommend it.

I did like Rand's writing style though, everything else was debatable.

Love in the Time of Cholera: Marquez Garcia, Gabriel

One of my new personal faves! I love Fermina and she did not deserve her in-laws. I feel like it was surprisingly realistic as to how it portrayed married life between Urbino and Fermina, with happy and unhappy years, but I believe that Fermina was definitely a prisoner in a house that her husband was not. I don't know about everyone else, but one of my worst fears was marrying into the wrong household (if you know, you know) and here I was, watching Fermina live my worst nightmare.

Florentino and Urbino… Are not exactly the greatest characters haha. Florentino had had countless affairs over the years but never told Fermina about them and practically said that despite all these affairs, his heart had belonged to Fermina Daza (someone died because of him!!!!) Urbino also admitted to having an affair with a woman (and even let her death haunt him???), but he was a nice husband, like all the rest.

I found Urbino's death be ironic because it wasn't the cholera he faced on a daily basis that killed him, but falling from a ladder, but at least it allowed for plot development; it had let Florentino finally make his appearance in over 50 years, coming to declare his love for Fermina once more.

It's a love story, but it's also a documentation on the realities of human life/marriage in a matter that doesn't shy away from all the nitty-gritty, unpretty details that follow along with life.

Three Short Japanese Short Stories

If you've been here with me for sometime, you know that I love, love, LOVE Japanese literature. I love Mishima, Dazai, Kawabata, and a truckton of others haha. So the book itself is super thin and tiny, so it's great if you don't know where to start with Japanese literature. You'll get three stories from Nagai, , and Akutagawa, all unique in their own way, and so you get a wholesome mix of everything, from an epistolary story to a history lesson!

The stories themselves are super simple, so I won't go into too much detail about them.

The Book of Disquiet: Pessoa, Fernando

Amazing, show-stopping, 10/10 would recommend

This book is for all of you No Longer Human fans out there, it’s a diary-like novel about a book keeper and his view on life, and surprising it is very, very real. I don’t want to give away most of the story, but I can just say that Fernando Pessoa is a genius, there are so many hard hitting quotes in the book that really get you thinking. I was hooked from the first line, if you want to read it, check this out here!

It is so well pieced together for a novel that is meant to be in disarray and Pessoa is an amazing writer, I would love to read more of his works.

The Plague: Camus Albert

A deadly plague, a town of people, who will win?

Turns out, nobody and everybody. The ending was a bit of a flat-line for me, but other than that, the story of the plague in Oran is neatly put together mixed in with Camus’ philosophy. I’m still not over Dr. Rieux’s wife dying, I don’t know why but that really got to me.

I don’t really like Camus, but I’m trying my best to like him

[cauldronofmorning]

I’m sorry, this (from a massively right wing site from a lady author whining that COVID killed private schools) take on Kim is so fucking funny:

Better Call Saul recently completed its fifth season. The show started as a spinoff based on a minor character from megahit Breaking Bad. However, Better Call Saul quickly became beloved and critically acclaimed in its own right.

Much of the credit for that belongs to actress Rhea Seehorn’s stellar portrayal of Kim Wexler. She became the show’s breakout star.

Kim Wexler – wife of lead character Jimmy McGill aka Saul Goodman – is an enigmatic character. But viewers got a glimpse into her past during a job interview in season 2. Kim reveals she is originally from a small town in the Midwest. She decided to leave because she looked around at her life and realized that she was going to end up “married to the guy that ran the town gas station. Maybe cashiering down at the Hinky Dinky [a supermarket]…I just wanted something else.”

The interviewer asks Kim, “What did you want?” She answers with one word: “More.”

In a sense, Kim embodies the feminist dream. She rejected the traditional feminine path of marriage and family. Instead, she pursued a career. She graduated law school and landed a job at a major law firm, later leaving to start her own practice.

J.R.R. Tolkien, author of The Lord of the Rings trilogy, had a relevant observation about women who are described as “economically independent.” He wrote, “It usually really means economic subservience to male commercial employers instead of to a father or a family.”

That certainly applies to Kim. The show depicts her working endlessly for various male bosses. Even after she starts her own law firm, she is beholden to her biggest client, wealthy bank CEO Kevin Wachtell. In season 3, she becomes so exhausted working over-time for him and his friend that she crashes her car.

Despite her hard work, Kim hasn’t become rich. She lives in a small apartment. At the end of season 5, she hatches a plot to frame her old boss so she can get the money she needs to fund her dream of starting a pro bono law firm to help the poor.

Kim’s sudden dark turn is surprising. For most of the show, Kim was the stereotypical virtuous woman trying to keep the roguish Jimmy on the straight and narrow.

Kim and Jimmy might have the feminist ideal of an “equal partnership.” She never lets their relationship get in the way of her career. In the early seasons of the show, they are married in all but name. They live together and share business expenses, but Jimmy never fully commits to her. Finally in season 5, Kim is the one who proposes marriage. But it’s mainly a device to ensure she cannot be compelled to testify against him in court.

Kim has probably lost her chance of having biological children. (Seehorn is 48, so it is reasonable to assume the character she plays is around the same age.) And Jimmy isn’t exactly cut out for fatherhood.

Kim said she left her hometown because she wanted “more.” Did she get it? She got a better wardrobe. The tailored suits she wears as a lawyer are more elegant than a supermarket cashier’s vest. But that seems to be the only benefit.

Her life would probably be happier if she’d married that “guy that ran the town gas station.” At least he would be more concerned for her welfare than her various male bosses. But that doesn’t fit our cultural narrative.

Kim isn’t living the dream. She’s living a feminist nightmare.

[mzminola]

Still thinking about that tiktok about two (buds? friends? partners in a relationship not recognized by mainstream American culture?) people who got married and some people are calling it homophobic for some reason and like the haters are REALLY fucking bugging me. Even if they’re not serious and trying to joke around, it’s falling real fuckin’ flat.

Like. Marriage isn’t even uniform around the world. It’s never been uniform throughout history. The idea that there’s One Particular Relationship Style that is allowed to be married is just...no? No? That’s not how it works???

We literally fought people in the courts and ballot boxes who were saying that’s how it works!!! “Wah wah but they were only denying it based on legal sex/gender, not on X condition I, the whiney asshole, think matters!” Get over yourself. Is it your marriage? No? Then fuck off.

G*d. It’s bothering me. We only got gender-related marriage equality nation wide in 2015. We got race-related marriage equality in 1967, and yeah just like now, bigots still tried to deny marriage certificates and recognition despite the changed law. We still don’t have marriage equality for disabled people.

“But sanctity of marriage!” First of all, atheists and non-religious people are allowed to get married too you fucking asshole, and second of all "sanctity” has only sometimes been part of the equation. Marriage is a social contract, and sure, in a lot of societies that involves the local religion, but it doesn’t always.

How many fucking books with marriage of convenience or marriage of politics as a plot device are out there? Do you think the writers made that up? I can kind of get that assumption, because writers do make up a lot of stuff, or build on things earlier writers made up, but in this case? In this fucking case? No, it’s legit! It’s real!

“Hey, I have a house and you have a job, we get along as friends but don’t really dig each other, wanna get married and raise kids?” is something people! Fucking! Do! And have done for a really fucking long time! “Wanna enter into a political alliance between our two neighboring baronies?” “Wanna team up to get better student housing?”

And then! And then! There are people who want to be committed to another person for the rest of their foreseeable future, because they care about that particular person, regardless of everything else, and marriage lets them solidify that commitment and get it legal recognition. Why should it matter whether that care comes with the surrounding culture’s expectations for “being together”? Why can’t they fucking commit to each other in whatever why they choose without some asshole throwing a fit?

Just. Get your judgmental noses out of other people’s marriages and fuck off.