#also there IS a correct answer if you’re not a coward

[manari-archives]

things I wish you said | LN4

When I saw you cry, I didn't handle it well Without you here I don't know what to do with myself I hope you know it scared me to death The night that your sister said that you got in an accident

pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

warnings: alludes to a sexual relationship, a crash, hospitals

word count: 1k

note: IM BACK AFTER ALMOST 2 YEARS, this is probably the last part of the emails I can't sent series I'm gonna write, sorry </3. again this isn't based on the entire song, just a couple of lines. also english isn't my first language and this hasnt been proofread yet, so any corrections feel free to let me know and any feedback is welcome :)

masterlist

Lando Norris sat alone in his car, staring blankly at the empty street ahead. The hum of the engine was barely audible over the ache in his chest. His fingers clenched the steering wheel as memories of Y/N flooded his mind.

They’d been here once right here in this exact car. That night was supposed to be the beginning of something more, but instead, it became the moment everything slipped away.

“Lando,” Y/N had whispered back then, her voice unsure, “is there something you want to say?”

He hadn’t responded. The words had burned his tongue, begging to be released, but his fear had silenced him. Instead, he’d reached out and placed a trembling hand on her leg, hoping she'd somehow understand.

But she didn’t.

And how could she?

The silence between them had stretched on, heavy and painful, until she pulled her coat tighter around herself and looked away.

“You know I can’t read your mind, right?” she finally said, her voice laced with sadness.

But still, he said nothing.

Now alone in the quiet of his car, Lando winced at the memory.

“I was such a coward” he muttered to himself, slamming the steering wheel. “You were right there, and I let you go.”

Every corner he turned, every flickering neon sign, brought her face back to him. The way her eyes lit up when he joked, the way she got his humor when others thought he was just cold or sarcastic.

No one understood him like she did.

Back then, when she had broken down in front of him crying, vulnerable, real, he hadn’t known what to do.

“I don’t know why I’m like this,” she sobbed, wiping her face as she sat curled on his couch.

“You’re not broken,” he’d whispered, heart pounding in his chest, “you’re just... feeling things I don’t know how to fix.”

Instead of holding her, he had shut down. Instead of comforting her, he froze.

And that was the beginning of the end.

The shrill ring of his phone snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Hello?” he answered, voice rough.

“Lando, it’s me,” came the shaky voice of Y/N’s sister. “She’s been in an accident. A car hit her. It’s... bad.”

Everything else became a blur.

At the hospital, Lando paced the hallway, hands trembling.

“What happened?” he asked, almost breathless.

“It was some drunk driver,” her sister replied through tears. He didn’t wait, he pushed through the doors and into the room.

Seeing her pale, bandaged, broken tore the air from his lungs. “Oh God, Y/N...” he whispered, approaching her bed. He reached out and held her hand, cold and unmoving in his.

“Please,” he whispered, voice cracking, “you have to wake up. I need to say what I never said.”

When she finally opened her eyes, days later, he was still there.

“Lando?” she rasped.

“I’m here,” he choked out.

She blinked slowly, her voice weak. “Why?”

“Because I should’ve never left you in the first place.” He leaned forward, tightening his grip on her hand. “I was afraid, Y/N. Of what you made me feel. So I hid. I said nothing when I should have said everything.”

She looked away.

“I remember that night in your car,” she murmured. “You didn’t say a word.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But I wanted to. I wanted to tell you I loved you. That I was falling for you and it terrified me.”

“And when I cried... you disappeared.”

“I didn’t know how to comfort you. I was so afraid of doing it wrong that I did nothing. But not anymore. I’m done running from my feelings.”

She closed her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek.

“I don’t know if I can just forget all of that.”

“You don’t have to,” he said quickly. “I don’t expect that. But I’m here now. And I’ll prove it to you, every day, for as long as it takes.”

Weeks later, the air between them was lighter, but still cautious.

“You always leave the milk out,” she teased one morning as he handed her tea.

Lando grinned. “Old habits. I’m a changed man, but not that changed.”

“You’re working on it.”

“I am.” He grew serious for a moment. “And I want to be better. For you.”

She looked up at him, eyes soft.

“You’re getting there.”

Months passed, and slowly, carefully, they built something new.

“I missed this,” she said one night as they sat on the same couch she’d once cried on.

“Me too,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. “But I’m not going to miss any more chances.”

[writingwithcolor]

Judaism, Angels, and Monstrosity

@neapolitangirl asked:

I'm writing a story about the angel Muriel traveling through a world inspired by American folklore (Ex. The Bell Witch, Fearsome Critters, etc) while hunting demons. I wanted to draw inspiration from the legend that says Muriel and Abaddon are one and the same because I thought it was interesting. However, I also know that Abaddon is important to Jewish cosmology and wanted to avoid any unfortunate implications. Muriel is very skittish and kind of a coward, but turns into the more violent and vengeful Abaddon in the presence of demons. Appearance-wise both Muriel and Abaddon are tall and skinny, but Muriel is more like an owly-human while Abaddon is a spiky skeletal being. Would this be connecting Judaism to monstrosity? Also, is there anything else I should try to avoid?

So…angelology, the whole idea of angels with names and personalities and individual jobs, is just…not something the average Jewish person thinks or cares about, even the ones who know a little about it. Not that it’s bad, it’s just not something that is prominent enough that it would have tropes attached that we might be able to warn you against.

That said, we’re posting on the Niche Scholarship and Special Interest website, so if there’s a reader who happens to have a lot of knowledge and feelings about Jewish angelology we would welcome the contribution and specialized expertise.

As it stands, my instinct is to give these more general considerations:

Balancing Jewish and Christian Elements

To what degree are you trying to tell a Jewish story, a Christian story that does not harm Jewish readers, or a story strongly influenced by Christian ideas about the heavens in a way that does not harm Jewish readers? How does deciding where you fall among those distinctions affect how you construct your story, and how you portray your angels?

Jewish Concept of God and Angelic Appearances

To Jews, God Godself does not have a physical body or visible appearance. If you’re describing the appearance of God as you’re navigating your angel-centering narrative, you’re squarely outside the territory of inclusivity toward Jewish readers. That’s okay, if you’re clear with readers that you’re not telling a Jewish story. It’s not okay if you’re trying to conflate Jewish and Christian ideas into a single narrative when they are often incompatible.

Angelic Appearances and Jewish Scripture

Angels might have appearances, and some descriptions of some types of angels in some Jewish scriptures have body parts of various animals. I haven’t the foggiest clue if it matters to anyone what appearances belong to which angels, so if it matters to someone reading this I hope they will speak up.

Are angels Jewish? This is a subject that could make for a fun discussion among Jewish people as a way of exploring the nature of Jewishness, but in your narrative you will have to think this through in your own way. If your angels engage in Jewish practices, then what does that look like and why, and if they don’t, why don’t they? The answer to that may of course be “Because I’m not actually telling a Jewish story.”

Christian Themes and Sensitivity to Jewish Culture

It’s okay to not be telling a Jewish story. But in that case keep in mind what demonstrations of Jewishness you include in a Christian story.

Especially, if you’re depicting a divine Jesus, or a Jesus character with any type of more-than-human powers or ancestry, or you are including any reference to the idea that Christianity might be in any way objectively correct, then you must tread EXTREMELY CAREFULLY with including any depiction of Jewish practice in your work, as the line where depiction turns to appropriation is in that case extremely near.

In all things, try and avoid depicting Jewish humans and any character who might be Jewish or be seen as Jewish in ways that are otherwise harmful: we’ve often talked about tropes around greed, sneakiness, power-grabbing, gender and sexual dynamics, and other tropes that apply to portrayals of Jewish characters. If your angels are Jewish, or Jew-ish in flavor, that goes for them as well.

Again, I know absolutely zero about Muriel and Abbadon and am not very interested in learning more as their lore has zero bearing on my Jewish practice in any way, and that’s a somewhat important point to me to be making because…2J3O. Two Jews, three opinions. So again, if a reader does in fact have knowledge and opinions about the specific angels themselves, please speak up.

–Meir

[sonoftydeusthemusical]

My friend has never heard of Diomedes before; how would you describe him? Like his motivations, his way of thinking, his strengths and weaknesses, his relationships, major plot points?

(I would explain him myself but I'm still not that far in the Iliad.)

Hello, thank you soooo much for this ask and sorry for the late reply!

First of I want to say that we’re by no means experts on Diomedes. We’re still in the process of learning more about him and discovering and exploring him through this musical, so people with a background in ancient studies might have a more detailed/accurate analysis of him than we can provide at the moment. But we still try to answer you to the best of our abilities!

(You’re welcome to correct us in the comments/reblogs ^^” )

In the words of @holy_mother_of_whumpers:

Diomedes kicks ass more than anyone in the Iliad, is scolded more than anyone. Odysseus best friend (according to historians). Shitty childhood (incest, prophesies and and a lot of dead relatives, which is almost as ancient Greek backstories go), shitty post Troy (banished from his city, cursed by Aphrodite). Actually happy ending (founder of cities, immortalized by Athena).

He’s like Odysseus, but with an unbelievably tragic childhood and less disaster energy. He gets stuff done and slays doing it

But here’s our answer…sorry if this is turns out too long!

Starting out with your question about his motivations

Oath bound, Diomedes avenged his fathers death at the age of 14, sacking the city of Thebes (the epic surrounding it is called “Epigoni” but unfortunately it’s a story lost to history, also he was 4 when he took the oath, should that count rly? shouldn't there be an age of consent for oaths? anyway)

The story surrounding his fathers death is tragic and a bit disgusting (he ate brain and Athena who wanted to gift him immortality was too disgusted to do so)

Diomedes doesn’t remember his father, and he still gets compared a lot to him (just see Agamemnon low-key trash-talking him by stating how much of a better fighter his father was to motivate him for battle) so that kind of plays into his motivations

Additionally like so many other heroes, glory and honor are definitely also motivations of his. Often it is Athena who pushes or motivates him to many of his greatest deeds and other feats (like wounding Ares, throwing the spear at Dolon, beating everyone in the funeral games,…..yeah Athena HATES loosing)

What’s interesting that despite the fact that he was raised on war, later on – after Troy (and admittedly, even more warfare) – he’s said to have wanted to settle down more, founded his cities in peace (or as peaceful as life for kings was back then haha)

In the Iliad Diomedes is always the first to volunteer, and despite often getting treated rather badly (Nestor kicked him awake, my boy was even sleeping in his armour, Agamemnon calls him a coward) he tends to keep a cool head and doesn’t retaliate (…except that one time….or two?) BUT he also definitely doesn’t take BS, he calls out Agamemnon for being a bad leader when he suggests to leave (Diomedes insists they stay and fight until they won)

For his way of thinking…he’s rather pragmatic, a good strategist (mentored by athena), first to jump into the fray, trusts his own strength, knows when to back down/when to talk back, can get caught up in the heat of the moment in battles, doesn’t shy away from violence, lies & trickery…. (correct me on this if I'm wrong or missed something)

Strengths & Weaknesses

One thing that makes him stand out among the other heroes is that arguably, he’s one of the few greek heroes whose lives don’t end in a complete tragedy because of his hubris against the gods (…….wellll………..his wife betraying him after he injured aphrodite and being exiled for arogs is an instant where he still pays for his acts against the goddess, but its tame compared to many other heroes fates, who committed lesser crimes) and in the end he even gets deitified (or at least in some versions, like athena wanted to do with his father, but his father messed upppppp so…..)

He’s more level headed than many other heroes (cough Odysseus “i am in the infamous odysseus” King of Ithaca)

He’s one of the best fighters - or THE best fighter of the greeks next to Achilles, the trojans were more scared of him than of Achilles (….since Achilles didn’t fight) without him the Achaeans….would’ve probably lost the war

As for his weaknesses….one thing is something that’s not even within his own control: his young age (compared to the other kings), almost nobody realllyyyy respects him despite his badass deeds on the battlefield and good battle advice, his many ships he brought and his battle experience even before the war and two) the kind of lingering shame of his fathers final moments (nom nom brain, and failing to take Thebes), but also his fathers supposed greatness that he keeps getting compared to and has to live up to

Now…..his relationships…oh boy theres so many, I’ll try to sum up the most important ones I know in once sentence for each

His family:

His father: he doesn’t remember him, but people keep bringing him up and comparing him to him

We dont know much about his relationship with his mother

most…of his other (male) relatives die in his early youth (which is how he ends up as King of Argos) like his grandfathers, and his uncles…

The achaean kings:

Agamemnon: the boss who’s a bully, but Diomedes talks back to him sometimes at least (…unless he’s insulting him, he just accept that)

Ajax: Diomedes almost kills him during the funeral games….the acheans have to break up the fight

Achilles: Diomedes doesn’t like him, Dio is the only one who wants him punished for killing Diomedes cousin that everyone else hated

Odysseus: LOTS of tea to be found here (he seems to see Ody as a mentor figure and keeps picking him as companion for missions, they both have Athena as their patron goddess but while Odysseus leans a little bit more on the wisdom part, Diomedes leans more into the pure strength of battle, they work well together and have a bunch of missions together)

Comrades

Most noteable are Sthenelus (known him since early childhood) and Euryalus, who are with him in Troy, they were part of the Epigoni (its rly a long story)

His wife: is his cousin, he marries her to strengthen his rulership, in the end, its said that she betrayed him with a new lover and exiled him from his own kingdom (another long story)

Glaucus: they met on the battlefield and realized their grandfathers were bro’s so they didnt fight each other, and instead exchanged armours (but Diomedes got the better, golden armour, while Glaucus got the bronze armour..)

There is sooooo much more to say about him, all the stories of the Iliad, the events before AND after it, his relationship with Athena, etc. I barely scratched the surface here so maybe we have to make a whole series of posts about this one day so we can get more into detail because its so much! (Let us know if we should???)

I hope this answered some of your questions, though! And again thank you so much for your interest and apologies for the late reply!

[barbiewritesstuff]

Glimpses: True Love's Embrace and True Love's Caress (Part two)

Thank you so so much to @ayselluna and @ladyspacey for requesting a part two. It means so much to me ❤️

Not proofread. Never proofread.

He paces in front of your tent, creating a path in the dirt where his feet dragged. Shadowheart is inside, stitching what she can't heal with Lae’zel’s help. The two of them have gotten close, closer than he expected if their sneaking back from that private clearing was any indication…. He tries to distract himself with that, the gossip, the drama he could create if he told Gale but your voice floats his way and he’s back to thinking about you.

You sound a little hoarse, and you speak barely above a whisper when you tell the girls you’re okay. You lie when they ask what happens, your version of events thankfully matching his own, because he'd been too much of a coward to admit to Gale and Karlach that you were wearing the matching magic rings everyone all but made you swear not to wear, and that Astarion hadn’t noticed until he’d been so lost staring at your perfect breasts that he'd gotten stabbed.

But then, where to start if he told the truth? They’d ask why you would give him the ring, something he wasn't so sure about either. There were multiple possibilities of course, one being that you'd realised he was bloody useless in a fight and decided he was the biggest liability. In order to preserve potions and reviving scrolls, you had casted a warding bond over him. That was the answer he liked best. The one that allowed him to turn the pain, grief and absolute terror bubbling inside him like an unsupervised cauldron into anger.

It wasn’t the correct reason of course, and deep down -- and let’s be honest, not so deep down -- he knew it.

There had been a few nights of passion, a couple of stolen moments of heavy petting when searching for loot or simply when no one was around to look, but these seemed overshadowed by the nights he forwent his meditations in favour of spending your watch by your side, sometimes chatting, sometimes not -- There was never the expectation to entertain you, something which, at first, made him wildly uncomfortable but that he now cherished.

There were the mornings you snuck into his tent to do your makeup in front of the only unbroken mirror in camp. You always tried so hard not to “wake” him, but he’d usually pretend to awaken halfway through you applying powder on your eyes -- Placing the blame on his being up on you was easier to admit he woke up specifically to gaze at you applying creams, powders and lipsticks, but at this point, he figures you know anyway. There’s no need to be subtle with you, no need to steal anything, even moments, when you made it clear through repeated actions that whatever he wanted to take, you would give freely, even your own blood.

There was also the matter of loot. How you stole anything that wasn’t nailed down (and some things that were, in fact, nailed down. You’d stolen the nails too) in order to sell and barter your way towards food, armour, trinkets and Karlach’s ever growing collection of Teddy bears. But as soon as Astarion mentioned he liked something, even if it could be bartered for exactly what they needed at that moment, you would give it to him. He tries to stay quiet now after battles, half so he doesn’t arouse suspicion and half because the last time he spoke up, you gave him the trinket that would have bought you the first meal you’d eaten in nearly three days. And yet, shiny, pretty or even ridiculously ugly things he might like and get a kick out of, keep appearing in his tent -- it used to freak him out, how well you knew him, and it still does sometimes, especially when he admits to himself that this all was meant to be manipulative. He was meant to seduce you to gain favour and protection. Fucking you was his ticket to safety, to salvation. And it did get him that, he guesses, it just wasn’t the safety and salvation he bargained for.

The flaps of the tent part and Shadowheart pops her head out.

“She’s fine to see visitors,” she tells him, “She’s still weak but the noise of your pacing was driving us up the wall.”

“Pardon me for being worried,” he says, dramatically placing a hand over his dead heart in emphasis.

Shadowheart humms sceptically, “Worried she might die, or worried you won’t be able to feed?”

Well, he internally scoffs, at least he still has them fooled.

“Speaking of, you’re on a rat diet until she’s fully healed,” Shadowheart adds as he steps into the tent and she and Lae’zel step out.

He wasn’t even thinking of feeding, even with the blood gushing out of your wound, calling his name with every dwindling heartbeat, he’d fought a surprisingly easy fight against his more feral instincts and brought you back to camp. Nothing but worry for your safety and irrational fury had crossed his mind since your injury.

Irrational fury he was now failing to keep down.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” He whispers through gritted teeth, “You could have died, you absolute fool. Do you think me so incapable of protecting myself?!” He continues, ignoring the fact that you can hear the grief in his voice. The other two can’t, they haven’t spent enough time with him, but you know him inside out.

You stay quiet, much to his absolute fury.

“I am not a child you need to protect, I am perfectly capable of doing this myself,” he adds, grabbing her wrist in his hand, and sliding the ring off your finger. You open your mouth in protest, but he throws the most genuine glare he can muster your way, and you close your mouth again without speaking.

He pockets your ring, and takes off his own, placing both in the inside pocket of his jacket.

Astarion eventually gives you one of them, tucked inside a letter he gives you before the final battle, and that he asks that you keep on you till the end. It’s his own ring, obviously, and he prays it’ll keep you safe even if you're only carrying it.

[sleepychillcow]

C1: Surprise! You're Evicted. (P5 Fanfic)

Sitting across from her two friends at a cafe, Areum sips on her drink after recounting her day yesterday. “So wait, let’s backtrack. What did you do to your roommate?” Victoria asks, her icy blue eyes narrowed in disbelief. 

“Ex-roommate.” Rosanjin intercedes to correct Victoria, not taking her chocolate brown eyes off Areum.

“Like I said, she wouldn’t face me so I–”

“Dragged her out of her room and sat on her?” Victoria summarizes the situation to Areum, who nods as if this is an everyday conversation that shouldn’t need clarification.

“Yes, until she apologized. I don’t think I need to recount any further.” Areum shrugs, seemingly supportive of her own actions.

“Ara, I’d like to remind you that I haven’t finished the bar yet so I can’t help you if she charges you for assault.” Rosanjin says it softly, leaning in closer from across the table with her arms crossed.

Areum scoffs, swirling her drink in her hand. “She won’t.”

“How do you know that?” Her aspiring-lawyer friend asks, her eyes widening in fear of what Areum will say next. 

“Because I told her I’d do more than sit on her if she does.” Areum takes a sip of her drink after she says it.

“So you threatened her?” Rosanjin says it with a sigh as she runs her hand over her face before pinching the bridge of her nose.

“It’s not like she didn’t deserve to be sat on.” Victoria nudges Rosanjin with her shoulder. “She must’ve been so shocked and embarrassed. Did she scream?” Victoria bombards Areum with questions, making her distaste for Areum’s former roommate obvious.

“Well, there certainly was a lot of screaming and shouting.” Areum scrunches her nose as she recounts the morning. “It took so long though, my butt is sore from sitting on her bony back.”

“Wait…how long did you sit on her?” Victoria’s face begins to match Rosanjin’s. 

Areum sighs, “let me just tell you from the beginning.”

Storming into her apartment–well, her now old apartment wasn’t enough for Areum. No, she came in ready for warfare. Fuming and fueled on too much coffee, she bangs with both hands on her roommate’s���now ex-roommate’s door. When she doesn’t hear a peep on the other side of the door, she only bangs harder. “I saw your car parked outside. Open the door, you coward!” 

Her roommate remains quiet and Areum is ready to rip the door off its hinges. Instead, she crosses her arms and glares at the door, wishing for laser eyes. “Fine, you want to hide? I’ll wait out here all day…or at least until I have class!” 

For a moment, she hears shuffling and Areum is hopeful that her roommate will finally open the door. Instead, the flat, annoyed voice from the other side utters, “I gave you a few days notice. What else do you want from me?” At that moment, Areum starts to calculate the cost of assault charges.

“You’re kidding, right? No, don’t answer that because you have to be pulling my leg.” Areum begins and pulls out her phone from her skirt’s left pocket. “Apartment searches take WEEKS. Did you even consider the cost and time it requires for a full-time student that doesn’t have a rich daddy to handle it for them?” She refuses to take a hint from the loud silence on the other side of the door. “And you told me over text! Let’s review the text, shall we?”

“We don’t have to do that–”

“OH, we certainly do!” Areum clears her throat and begins to read off the last message she received. “ < Hey girl, Yumie-kun is moving in on Saturday so I need you out by Friday. Btw, if you could replace the refrigerator light before you leave, I’d appreciate it.>...What the hell?!”

“Five days is plenty of time to find a place.” 

“I have classes! Work! Also it’s midyear, there’s no student housing available.” Areum waits for a response and only receives silence. “Look, just come out, okay? I just want to talk.”

There’s a long pause and Areum evaluates the door’s strength. She can kick it in if she tries hard enough. Before she gets to lifting her foot, her roommate finally opens the door a sliver.

A sliver is all she needs.

She knocks the door open further putting all her body weight against it with her shoulder and, luckily, her roommate is knocked down too because Areum hears a shriek as she falls. “Oh no you don’t!” As her roommate attempts to crawl away, Areum grabs her by the ankles and pulls, effectively dragging her roommate across the floor and into the hallway.

As she plops a seat down on the other girl’s back, amongst the screaming her roommate shouts, “Get OFF me, are you crazy?!”

“I’m feeling merciful, so this is our compromise. You’re going to listen, and when I’m done speaking, you’re going to give me a heartfelt apology. Then I’ll get up.” Areum lists her plan off calmly, drowning out the groans and grunts of her victim.

Instead, her roommate begins to shout profanities. Fed up, Areum grabs a handful of hair and yanks–not too hard, of course. Just enough to elicit a shriek. “Listen, you spoiled brat. You know what you did was rude. You had to have known you were going to move your boyfriend in for a while and you waited until the last minute to tell me.”

“This is MY apartment.” 

“And I pay rent, so this is my apartment too.” Areum corrects her. “Either you waited on purpose or you’re so alarmingly incompetent that you forgot.” 

By the end of the tale, Rosanjin’s face is in her hands and she’s shaking her head. Victoria gently pats Rosanjin’s head of short, pixie cut hair and tosses her own long, pin-straight blonde hair over her shoulder. “Now now, let’s hope that her roommate is so incompetent that she forgets to report her.”

“Heyyy, I should be reporting her ! And her greasy dad for letting her do this.” Areum says, pouting over her iced coffee before leaning in. “The important takeaway isn’t my roommate’s bruised back, it’s that I’m going to be homeless in five days.” 

“Please stop openly admitting to committing violence.” Rosanjin puts her hands up. “You’re never going to be homeless. You can stay with one of us for as long as you need.” Victoria doesn’t hesitate to nod in agreement.

“You both live in one bedroom apartments. I love you and I know you love me, but can that love withstand cuddling with me on a full-size for a month?” Areum is teasing, but she feels less stressed already being reassured by her friend’s initiative to help her.

“Speak for yourself, darling. I only sleep in California kings.” Victoria rests her chin on her hand as she says it.

“Have you started looking at postings for living arrangements?” Rosanjin asks, cutting through the chatter and getting straight to the point as always. “I don’t mean to discourage you, but what you said to your roommate was true. It’s midyear – most affordable student housing was snatched up during the spring. This isn’t even accounting for walk-throughs, roommate interviews, and potential moving costs.”

“Trust me, I know, Rosie.” Areum sighs. “I started looking already. The options so far are…slim, at best.” 

“Is it “cuddling on a full-size” bad?” Victoria teases before reaching out to place a hand over Areum’s. “We’re not kidding though. My place? It’s yours whenever. And I doubt your mom would turn you away.”

Areum grimaces. Her mother wouldn’t hesitate to take her back in, but the last thing she wants is to burden her mom. Her mom has surely built a life since she moved out three years ago. “If I can’t find anything in two days, I might just have to take you up on that offer.”

“I’ll pencil you in for a post-move-in cuddle session.” Victoria winks, but her expression sours as she appears to remember something. Victoria quickly schools her face, intending to remain neutral as she asks, “Have you told Junho yet?” 

The reminder of her morning conversation with her boyfriend sours Areum’s face as well. “I called him before I came here.” Areum takes a deep breath, looking down at her nearly empty drink. “He insisted I move in with him.”

Rosanjin briefly winces, “and how do you feel about that?”

“Dread.” Areum says it jokingly, but beyond the nervous chuckle, she actually means it. “I told him I’m not ready to move in together yet.”

“So apartment hunting it is.” Rosanjin straightens up in her seat, decidedly changing the subject. “I can look around too, ask if anyone knows of any openings.”

Areum’s phone chimes, the screen facing downward on the table. She takes a moment to brace herself before flipping the phone and taking a look. There are numerous text notifications from Junho that she tries not to focus on. Even when muted, he still manages to call for her attention. When she glances at the most recent notification though, her interest is piqued.

“Project Cuddles might get postponed for another day. I just got a notification – a new roommate posting was made.” Areum informs her friends as she reads the post.

“You’re either the luckiest girl in Tokyo or there’s some catch.” Rosanjin says as she nods towards Areum’s phone.

**Roommate Wanted** 

Rent: $$$/month Utilities: $$/month

Seeking a new roommate to share a 3-bedroom apartment in the University district. Apartment has a shared bathroom and laundry, natural light, and a balcony. 

Applicants who are cleanly, considerate, and communicative will be a good fit. Must be respectful of shared spaces, such as distributing chores. 

Please reach out if interested.

Best,

Ren and Ryuji.

“Lucky, but not the luckiest.” Areum jokes as she re-reads. “It’s not clear, but it looks like a posting from two boys.” She holds her phone out over the table for her two friends to view the listing as well.

Victoria shakes her head, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Living with boys? I wouldn’t call that a step up from your last roommate.”

Areum looks up, as if weighing out her options. “Well, they could be decent, right?” An idea comes to her mind, and she pulls her phone back and begins typing. “I’m going to reach out and get their names for a meetup.”

[youcouldmakealife]

LBTE: Jared (130-131)

In which Erin and Bryce go viral, and The Article is born.

If you'd like to follow along, series page is here.

130. Grapevine

Jared manages to get through training camp and one preseason game before Bryce’s reputation spectacularly implodes, along with his personal well-being, and Jared’s personal well-being, and the Marcus Mathesons well-being as a whole.

He was just trying to be NICE. Anyway, the First Twitter Thing. Which was needed for the Article, and The Blanket Duel, and The Other Twitter Thing. First domino falls down.

Jared shuts his eyes. “The Sun’s a right-wing rag,” he says. “Nobody with a brain believes the Sun.”

“Tons of people believe the Sun, Jared,” Bryce snaps. “A lot of Flames fans read the fucking Sun.”

Both of them are correct.

“What’s Summers say?” Jared asks.

Bryce mumbles something.

“Bryce,” Jared says.

“He left a voicemail,” Bryce mumbles. “I haven’t called him back.”

Bryce always regresses to a teenager with Dave. Dave treating him like he’s still a teenager doesn’t help that.

“Okay,” Bryce says a little more firmly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise for the media being fucking stupid,” Jared says.

“I’m really sorry,” Bryce says. “Jared.”

“Stop it,” Jared says. “I love you, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong. Stop apologising to me.”

It’s really important that nobody is mad at Bryce about this (I mean, other than Dave). He did a nice thing! He could not have anticipated these consequences! But man does this feel like deja vu in other ways to him, so Jared not being mad at him for even a second, and Don and Susan and Erin not blaming him, that’s honestly important.

Jared texts Greg to give him a call, ditto to Erin, who’s almost certainly still asleep, then tackles his mom first. Partly because his dad might be out on a job, more because he really, really doesn’t want to tell his dad. Hopefully his mom will do it for him.

Coward.

“Can you tell dad too?” Jared says.

“No,” mom says.

“Mom,” Jared says.

“No, you’re telling your father,” mom says.

“Please?” Jared says.

“Jared, my priority right now is to call my daughter and explain the situation to her, I don’t have the time to tell your father because you’re afraid he’s going to be mad at you,” she snaps. “Tell him yourself.”

Susan knows better than Jared that her eighteen year old daughter in a bikini hitting media is not going to lead to a good time, so her focus is pretty exclusively on letting Erin know at the moment, which I think is understandable.

“I’m not mad at you or Bryce, I’m mad at the situation,” she says, softening.

Nobody’s mad at Bryce!

“But I really do need to call Erin right now,” mom says. “And your father needs to know. And not from the Sun.”

“He doesn’t read the Sun,” Jared says.

Don has better taste than that, thank you.

His dad is like — dangerously quiet as Jared sums up the situation.

“If you haven’t called your mother yet, call her now,” he says finally, voice so even it cuts through Jared, and hangs up. Jared’s assuming the hanging up is so he doesn’t say something he regrets.

Nobody’s mad at Bryce! But Don is, you know, still currently furious.

Jared goes to make coffee, hovers over the machine until he can retrieve a cup, spends a solid ten minutes of pacing and debating whether or not he should check twitter — it’s hard not to, but he also knows it’d be a huge fucking mistake —

It would be such a huge mistake, Jared would be beside himself about the way people talk about Erin.

(His focus is pretty heavily on Bryce right now, and very tunnel-vision-y, but yeah: Erin’s half naked image is being shown without her consent, with the implication that Bryce is cheating on a spouse with her. There’s some vile shit getting said. There always is, on twitter)

Summers has an idea. It’s not a terrible one. Probably the best one available.

I mean, it probably is the best idea available, but it is also a terrible idea.

Stephen answers the door, looking concerned, which doesn’t suit his face, then even more concerned by whatever Jared’s own face is doing.

Stephen being concerned about Jared and Jared’s response is basically ‘ew what's wrong with him'.

“Hockey or Bryce?” Stephen asks.

“Bryce,” Jared says, and follows him in, sits heavily on the couch, Gabe coming in and sitting down on the other side, Stephen cramming himself in the middle. He has pointy elbows.

“I know,” Stephen says when Jared mumbles that. “I use them to get my way a lot.”

So concerned he gets right in there with the elbows. He’s about the same as Jared on the touch front (not a big hugger, will make some exceptions for loved ones, and a massive one person exception), so this is big from him.

“What particularly queer advice do you need?” Stephen says.

“Steve,” Gabe says.

“It is kind of particularly queer,” Jared says, hating the triumphant sound Stephen makes.

“Come to me with your gay problems, my child,” Stephen says.

But not so concerned he won’t crack a joke or three. (Levity is helpful, Gabriel.)

“How old is she?” Stephen asks.

“Eighteen,” Jared says.

“Oh, so older—” Stephen says.

“I am fully prepared to sleep in the guest room if you finish that sentence, Stephen,” Gabe says.

Stephen does not finish the sentence.

Not always the time for levity, STEPHEN.

“Well,” Stephen says. “This is not going to help his reputation. And it wasn’t great already.”

“Stephen,” Gabe says.

“I’m being honest!” Stephen says.

He’s not levitating this time, Gabe!

“Summers says ‘fuck’,” Jared says. “And apparently called Bryce an idiot a lot. And suggests we do a thing about how the Marcuses and Mathesons are long-time family friends, do some heartwarming feature about friendship across divisional lines or whatever, provide some pictures me and Bryce together and our families together for evidence our families have been close-knit for years. My family’s okay with it. Or like. They’re willing.”

Reminder that Gabe did a profile and REALLY didn’t hide the fact Stephen lived with him and the reporter said him and Stephen were ‘like brothers’. So they know it’ll work.

“Can I suggest something?”

Jared eyes him.

“Stop wearing your wedding ring before you do that article,” Stephen says. “And maybe for a while after.”

“No,” Jared says.

“Jared,” Stephen says.

“No,” Jared says.

Stephen blows out a breath. “You want to be stubborn and out? Because that’s how stubbornness gets you outed.”

Stephen on Jared’s shoulder, less an angel and just Jared making logical rather than emotional decisions.

“I don’t care,” Jared snaps. “I’m not going to pretend I’m not married to him.”

“You do it every day lying by omission, how is this any different in practice?” Stephen asks.

“You literally get to fucking live with your boyfriend full-time don’t you fucking dare—”

Stephen is saying things Jared objectively doesn’t disagree with but they’re landing a little too hard right now. And Jared misses his husband.

“I don’t get to live with him full-time,” Stephen says.

“Stephen,” Gabe says.

“Well, I don’t,” Stephen says, shoving off the couch and disappearing down the hall.

He IS away 41 games a year.

“I’m going to call Dave Summers,” Stephen says from the hall.

“Why?” Jared says.

“Know the business, know you both socially,” Stephen says, leaning on the door frame now. As dramatic sulks go that one didn’t last. “It’s a perspective he probably needs for the action plan.”

Stephen’s concern fights Stephen’s desire to dramatically flounce, and what wins is his shrewdness, which recognizes he can help in a way that doesn't involve antagonizing Jared into yelling at him.

“But I know you’re a stubborn ass who won’t listen,” Stephen says. “Which Summers should be aware of.”

Jared gives him the finger.

“I’m going to talk to Summers,” Stephen says, then disappears again.

“That’s Stephen for ‘sorry for being a dick, I will never actually apologise but I will try to make it up to you’,” Gabe says. “For the record.”

Accurate translation from Stephenese.

“And according to one of Stephen’s sisters you look like an angel, which doesn’t hurt with fans,” Gabe says. “You can imagine how much it pained Stephen to hear Beth say that.”

An angel is probably the most chill way Beth has described him.

“I didn’t mean that,” Gabe says. “You’re opening a door that you can’t close again. And if people start looking more closely — you guys don’t hide it well.”

~foreshadowing. Except not really because it’s just any logical person’s take after the witnessing the mess that was Jared and Bryce pretend not to be married (featuring extra eye-yearning).

“I do not offer these lightly,” Stephen says seriously. “And offering one right now does not mean this will become a trend. It will not.”

Jared blinks at him.

“Would you like a hug,” Stephen says flatly.

“Absolutely not,” Jared says, just as flat.

Stephen holds a mute arm out, and Jared sinks into it, because he kind of would, in fact, like a hug right now.

Steve hug!!!

“It’s going to work out,” Stephen tells him, the words tucked against Jared’s cheek. “It might be a bit before it is, and there might be a shitshow somewhere in there—”

“Stop helping,” Jared mumbles.

I love them both.

131. Verisimilitude

Well, they are a family, this is true. A family feeling varying degrees of unhappiness right now; dad and mom are pissed, Elaine concerned. Erin thinks it’s funny. Of course Erin thinks it’s fucking funny.

Erin having a sense of humour about this is very much for the best. Also, she's not reading the comments. Articles, yes — they’re hilarious. Comments, absolutely not.

I said the words ‘they instantly clicked’ today. Raf texts the group chat after his phone interview. I was honestly expecting God to smite me the spot.

Raf saying this while viscerally remembering Jared's tantrum about the temerity of Bryce having a whistle.

im up next in getting struck down by god Chaz says.

That’s true friendship — risking smiting for your bros.

By all accounts she’s treating it like a puff piece, not asking any leading questions, just basic ones and letting people fill in whatever, so it’s hard to tell if she honestly thinks she’s doing an article about a heart warming friendship, or if she’s figured out something’s up.

She honestly figures this is meant to get ahead of something, but her bet would have been something like Bryce IS cheating with Erin, or him being in the process of a divorce, since there’s no wife to be seen. She did not think ‘secretly married to one another’. They’re both acting weird, but she already thought something shifty was going on, and also hockey players are often awkward interviewees anyway, so.

“How’s school?” Jared says.

“Fine,” Erin says. “Only had one dude walk up and ask me if I’m Bryce Marcus’ girlfriend.”

She’s in her first month of her first year of university, this was not ideal timing. Only one dude approached her, but he's not the only one who's recognized her.

“Stephen said — you know, that there might be more attention,” Jared says. “After the article comes out. And that it might be a good idea for me to take it off for a bit.”

“I think you should do whatever you think you should do,” Bryce says.

“That’s really helpful, thanks,” Jared snaps.

“J,” Bryce says, sounding tired. “Just — it’s up to you.”

Jared twists his ring around his finger. Even from a distance you can see how similar it is to Bryce’s, and yeah, they’re traditional rings, plenty of people have the same ones, but —

“Can you help with my chain?” Jared asks, and he doesn’t know if it’s disappointment or relief on Bryce’s face, a blink and you miss it flash, before Bryce helps him undo the clasp. Jared strings his wedding ring on it, clinking against the engagement one, and ducks his head to let Bryce put it back on. Bryce presses a kiss against the nape of his neck, murmurs, “Done,” and Jared straightens up. In more ways than one, it feels like. That’s a bad joke even in his own head, all bitterness, no humour, so he doesn’t say it.

Like I said, Stephen was really only saying what Jared thought himself. This is also sort of screeching ahead out of their comfort zones right now, so a few backward shuffles are understandable.

Jared runs through the script in his head while they walk in, find the media room, wait for Weber to arrive, sitting a scrupulous two feet apart. It was more lines to take rather than an actual set script, ‘like family’ and ‘a lot in common’, ways to deflect a question without outright lying.

Andreas has worked a lot of overtime writing basically a choose your own adventure, in the form of ‘if they ask this, you may say this, this, or this, NOT this’, etc. It is exhaustive and he is exhausted.

“He’s my best friend,” Bryce says after a lot of other fluff, laying it on thick. There’s nothing but honesty in his voice as he says it, but then — he is being honest, Jared knows. It’s not the whole story, but it’s not like he isn’t Bryce’s best friend. Like Bryce isn’t his. “Some people you just know are supposed to be in your life.”

Bryce genuinely believes they were fated to be together. Jared doesn’t believe in fate, but he thinks that’s a nice thought.

“I don’t know about best,” Jared says quickly, because Bryce is getting like — too honest now, skirting towards something they shouldn’t be. “I have a lot of friends.”

“Jared,” Bryce complains.

If they’re such good friends why don’t you MARRY them, Jared.

Jared grins at his sullen face. “He’s my best friend too.”

Bryce goes pink

How. How does Bryce Marcus always do this to me. Just going about my day then boom, punched in the gut, having feelings about Bryce time.

Someone said Jared ‘gave OJ a personality’, like Julius doesn’t have one of his own, like anyone’s entitled to it. Julius has a personality. It’s a mean one: he’s been laughing his ass off about this article since Jared told him.

Love that Jared sounds super protective and supportive of Julius right before it switches to ‘yeah he has an identity, it's called being a DICK’.

“I just want my private life to stay private,” Bryce says, and this Jared thinks is actually scripted, that Summers gave him a real script, because Bryce is saying it like it’s been rehearsed. “Marriage is between two people, and it’s something that other people aren’t entitled to. I don’t really want to discuss it with the fans or the media, because it’s not really any of their business.”

So carefully factual without giving a single iota of information. Dave making sure this shit is as carefully worded as a contract.

“It’s cool,” Gabe says, shaking Jared’s shoulder. “You’re good, man.”

“Thanks,” Jared says.

“You’re good?” Gabe says, a question this time.

Jared shrugs.

“You’re good,” Gabe decides.

“Your vocabulary is extraordinary,” Jared says. “I am astonished by it.”

Jared absolutely does not get to throw stones. And I like the three goods of Gabe Markson.

Jared skates over when the Canucks start eyeing Chaz with vague suspicion.

“You good?” he asks.

“I’m good,” Jared says.

All good.

“Shrewd,” Gabe says. “Good verisimilitude. Stephen would be proud.”

Jared blinks at him.

How dare you insult Gabe's vocabulary.

“I don’t understand half the words he says,” Dmitry says consolingly.

“I understood it,” Jared says, tilting his chin up. He refuses to commiserate with Dmitry Kurmazov.

I love Jared’s petty ass.

“What’s verisimilitude mean?” Jared hisses at Gabe on the bench before the anthem.

Gabe tips back his head in a laugh and refuses to tell him.

Verisimilitude: the quality of seeming true or of having the appearance of being real. The on ice stuff had a lot more of it than the article did.

The article drops. Jared doesn’t read it, but he’s assured it’s fine. He doesn’t read replies on twitter or forums or anything. It’s not his job. He can’t focus on it.

Probably for the best Jared didn’t.

Jared doesn’t know if it’s the Calgary media, or the storyline about their families, or just Bryce being the incredibly talented player he is, but the Canucks are mortified in a 6-1 loss, and Bryce has a hat trick and a four point game. In the grand scheme of things, it’s a preseason game and means nothing. In the smaller scheme of Jared’s life, he kind of wants to throttle Bryce. And only a little bit in a sexy way. They’ll see who’s laughing when Jared rides him within an inch of his life.

Yeah Jared, that’ll show him, he’ll definitely never try to do it again after that.

Riding him until he fucking begs is now in the cards.

Oh no whatever will Bryce do. Please have mercy, Jared Matheson, he’ll do anything.

[demialwrites]

Exception to the Rule Ch 3: The Fanclub

AO3 Link

Your PHS dings, breaking the spell. You lift it to check the screen. “It’s the fan club,” you say, feeling his gaze pressing you in curiousity.

He rolls eyes. He doesn’t like having a fan club because they’re nosy about his personal life. But he sees the value of tolerating it because he needs good standing with the people of Midgar.

“They know you and the last girl broke up,” you mutter, flicking through the recent posts on the club’s forum with your thumb.

“That was quick. It’s only been a week.”

You type in a reply to the relevant post, “He’s probably going to get a new one soon :(.” It’s an attempt to discourage anyone from getting too excited about his singlehood but also blend in by pretending to be sad about it. Ever since the Sector 7 plate dropped, some of the members became more obsessive, probably as a way to distract themselves from their anxiety. You want to make sure it doesn’t get too far. You just wish you knew who the president of the club was. The tension is gone but you’re still hungry.

“Anyway, I'll go.” You walk out of the kitchen to go to the door to put on shoes and a light jacket.

“I didn't give you the address,” he calls.

“Text me,” you call back, opening the door.

He doesn't answer, pulling out his own phone.

You should have known he let you go too easily. You make it down to the parking garage and find Rude sitting in the driver's seat of one of the black company SUVs. Rufus has certain feelings about your driving style and none of them are positive.

“Not your errand boys my ass,” you mutter to yourself as you walk around to the passenger side.

You sit in the front passenger seat and pull down the seatbelt, fully intending to treat Rude like you were Reno. Plenty of your chatter. Someone has to pay for your brother's meddling.

“I'm a decent driver,” you insist in response to what no one said.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

You're about to tell him he's being too formal but you stop. The Turks belong to Rufus. It's not an official thing but something that's obvious to anyone at the top of Shinra. If they had orders to be polite with you, it's not worth it to correct them. It's just one of those things you have to accept. They also take their jobs too seriously. You show Rude the text with the address. He knows the place already so he starts driving.

“You still don't have time to date, huh?” you ask.

“No, Ma’am.”

“That's a shame. I don't, either.”

Rude glances at you without a word then turns the steering wheel left at a green arrow.

“Ha! Did you think I was going to flirt with you?”

“No, Lady Shinra, he didn't.”

Reno sits up from the row of back seats. You let out a scandalized gasp, then turn around as far as the seat belt would allow. Reno deftly catches your wrist while you swat at his rattail.

“You should be more careful,” he warns.

It's a warning to be more careful around them, the Turks. It's already iffy that you're with them right now but it's fine because it's nighttime and no one will see through the tinted windows. This is also about how they are dangerous people by profession.

You give him a smirk reminiscent of the current president. “Is that so?”

Reno sighs. You get on his nerves but he can't say that out loud, not that he kept it off his face. It's bad enough that he has to deal with one foolish Shinra for a boss. Nonplussed, you turn back around to continue to pester Rude. It's times like these that the Turks see how you and Rufus are related. The times you're completely unaware of your own mortality. Maybe it's a genetic trait. It couldn't have come from the former president, you would both insist if asked. He was a coward in the end.

You have the Turks wait in the SUV, of course. But the owners of the small eatery still appear intimidated by you. They're polite but stiff and curt. Sighing inwardly, you hadn't considered dressing down for their comfort. Still, the food looks and smells delicious.

You return to the SUV and knock on the back passenger door.

Reno opens the door cautiously, not wanting to be spotted. “Eh?”

You hold out one of the white takeout bags you carry. “Take it. It's for you guys.”

“Thank you. But we already ate,” Rude states politely from the front seat.

You push the bag at Reno, undeterred. “Take it for Elena. She looks like she eats like a teenager, still.”

Rude exchanges glances with Reno, who takes the bag. Seems you guessed right. You can picture her gobbling the food and chattering away at the same time, making you chuckle. You get into the front passenger seat with the other bag.

“I'm not so bad. You guys like me, right?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

[hamspamandjamsandwich]

pinky promise #3 #11 #13

#3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

God so far all I’ve picked out are Hiei narrative bits lmao

Okay first I’m gonna answer with what feels like a total cop out: the very first one. I thought of it pretty immediately and I’m very happy with that scene. Sometimes I think the first chapter is my favorite one.

“He’s weak—the worst thing a person can be.”

Not a cop out and funny (to me anyway):

“This explanation is strange enough that Hiei wouldn’t believe it unless he could see it with his own eyes—yet here he is, having seen it with three eyes, in disbelief.”

Bonus so there’s some Kurama rep here:

“A coward. Spineless. A fox hiding in his foxhole. It doesn’t matter which words he uses. For Kurama, they’re all the same, and to a degree they’re all correct.

No sane entity in existence would want what awaits him when he does inevitably die: Yama’s wrath, suffering of the highest caliber, and a countless number of lifetimes spent in Jigoku-kai. Unfortunate that there’s a reason people use “go to Hell” as a slight.

When it comes to fears, “unfathomable suffering” is a reasonable one—although that begs the question of why he’s never admitted it and would almost prefer to die than let a single soul know.

Youko Kurama is scared to die. How unbelievably pitiful.”

#11: What do you like best about this fic?

Other than it being essentially my passion project and love letter to my OTP, it also lowkey serves the role of a fix-it fic, but not too expressly. The eventual someday sequel will tackle that part of it more.

A less lame answer is that I just love the character studies. I love how much I like to write Hiei, I love my own interpretation of Kurama and his character. Both of them seem like they would have rich inner worlds, both private with a lot on their minds all the time. I find that this allows me to have them express a wider range of emotions and reactions than we see in the outside.

And I’ll say, I’m quite fond of how it reads/the prose. But I suppose I’m biased XD

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

Omg dream question to answer ty anon

My Kurahi playlist is often what I choose for this fic, since originally it was going to be my one and only. It’s the story that follows the canon in a divergent way that should feel like “deleted scenes” ideally. All that to say, the playlist was built around this story.

I listen to playlists on shuffle but as I understand it a lot of people like a narrative order to vibe:

1. ***Yu Yu Hakusho Romantic Theme (Remix) - Blue Bunny

2. Desert Rose - Sting

3. Animal Instinct - The Cranberries

4. Human Behavior - Björk

5. Eyes on Fire - Blue Foundation

6. Teardrop- Massive Attack

7. When You Die - MGMT

8. New Person, Same Old Mistakes - Tame Impala

9. #1 Crush - Garbage

10. Everywhere - Yellowcard

11. Tame - Pixies

12. Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps - Cake

13. I Will Possess Your Heart - Death Cab for Cutie

14. Can I Call You Rose? - Thee Sacred Souls

15. Necessary Evil - Unknown Mortal Orchestra

***god if you’re like me you will listen to this 10000000000 times it is addictive

My entire Kurahi playlist is 90 songs💀so only 15 here for now. May I also suggest literally any tool song. Just cos tool is awesome. Yall should listen to more tool. On this playlist is their cover of Peach’s song “You Lied” and it’s way better and it’s on YouTube go listen to it it also fits these blorbos

[eviltiddyproductions]

Crash Course in Romance: Episode 3

lmaooo she called the police bodyguards of society, i like that 😂

anyway 💅💅💅

Chiyeol oversharing like I do with my sister. #real

LMAO him and his assistant are so cute

the assistant even opens doors for everyone, a sweetheart actually

why do i do this to myself i want to jump to episode 16 already 💀😭 let me be patient

I LOVE HER FRIEND 😂😂😂 'you always side with men' 'you're right I love them too much'

she's running, he's driving and he's racing her

lmaooo he lost. my girl's so cute

no way they gotta stay in line to book everyday ??? this is insane actually

i love her. *I'd love to see Chiyeol* scene cuts to her bumping into him the next day and running anyway because she's late to book a seat to his class 😭

I LOVE HER LMAO she's still beefing with him. as she should, she's spent so much money and time already 💀

my sister slaying her classes, sitting front row and getting answers correct

lmaooo she accidentally threw water at him

the identity reveal is actually so funny

another day of my man leaving without his food

does he even drink? just has those bottles around 😂

awww you can't eat around because that's a student's place

NOOOO lmao he's worried if she posted about him as phone thief

i love the assistant Mr Ji 💀 'what if she decides to fist fight' 'then we become cowards and fight two to one'

awww he wants to share the meal with the assistants

oh he got invited to dinner

save some for me as I won’t be eating there. 🤣

I somehow did not see him being the first one to agree with that summer med batch thing. interesting

lmaooo he wants blackboards in return

well he makes a good point. hassle for teachers✅ then get hassle for director ✅

not the nasty teacher friend again. ugh. chiyeol LEAVE

awww come here bb. don’t listen to them :(

he’s actually still paying for those losers? I’d literally leave and never converse again

now he’s hearing the coworkers and assistants talk shit too 😭😭😭 don’t talk it personally bae! we all hate our bosses <3

I want to hug him through the screen because it is relatable and an actual nightmare at the same time 😭

she did get the phone back !!! damn he really bought her a lot of groceries 💀

damn the lawyer mom is ruthless but she talks to her son as if she’s training him for the army like woah relax (idk I just get anxious and sad in situations like these 😭✋ like let your kids breathe ‘our plans will get messed up’ parents)

you know for a second I thought maybe she was overdoing this to the kid because of the dad or pressure from outside but it’s just her 💀 the dad has moved out and is calling her out on it

don’t call him babe!! your intentions are pure but it’ll probably be taken the wrong way

the way I’ve slogged through kdrama episodes in the past and I’m just zooming through them here woah

oh thank god the assistant picked up the call 🙏

Sunjae loves our daughter so bad. Sent her the tests too <333

OH NO HIS MOM SAW IT. SUNJAE RUN 😭😭😭😭

gag her Sunjae you’re right

I want to empathise but how do you see one son struggling, have made one struggle and your partner has left and you still continue the same cycle

also maybe the hooded person taking money was her other son?

I hope he isn’t the shooter or anything 😭🙏

why do I think Chiyeol is about to be super mean to her 😭 might be under stress or whatever but idk maybe

let’s breathe and get through this scene 🧘‍♀️

he’s right so I can’t even fight the logic. my girl just sorta came here with good intentions. just the wrong day ;-;

honestly not that bad, scene finished quickly and wasn’t hurtful

Hearing anyway sounds like relief rn

nooo lawyer mom is unconscious

what if he stays here and misses the test, she’ll flip

you can just park your car on the road like that? honestly not too shabby

lmao his plan b is running to the event #me

she’s sweet offering him a ride, I would’ve sassed a bit 🙏

him in his pink helmet struggling while being a scooty passenger princess

no sunjae don’t miss the exam

he didn’t miss 🙏🙏🙏

did Chiyeol just call her a biker gang member 🤣

Sunjae and our baby both made it !!!

our baby’s friends are so wholesome. pls don’t change.

did he just save her with his foot 🤣

the most different meet cute I’ve seen in my life

Sunjae attentive as hell. 💀 my sister already kinda likes the hockey player but I’m still rooting for y’all 💗

Oh no I think my baby’s seat is about to be taken

lmaooo now you want to eat Chiyeol 💀✋

‘I’ve been starving for her food all day’ *leaves smiling’

I think he’s going to wait lol

aaah the bestie’s named Kim Yeong-ju. i love you tooo yeongjuuuu!!!!

she saw Chiyeol and a siren blared past by LMAOOOO

lmaooo she picked him up 🤣🤣🤣 my sweet girl

oh no please don’t tell me they kiss falling down. hate that trope down 😭✋

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Miracle - Ch.1

Morpheus (Dream of the Endless) x reader (no gender/pronouns mentioned)

Summary: In a natural world you would not exist, born by someone who could never have a child. You were a miracle. An anomaly that lives outside the natural laws and has power in all realms. But there is one realm, one King, that you are drawn to most of all. Warnings: canon-typical magic, flirting WC: 2480

Ch.1 || Ch.2 || Ch.3 || Ch.4 || Ch.5 || Ch.6

The Dreaming The faceless man tried to instil fear into your mind but you could see the coward behind the mask, the soulless demon who preyed on the helpless. Only you weren’t helpless. 

A fire burned in the pits where his eyes should have been and you cast an arm over the terrain, washing it with hues of life and a crystalline river to suffocate those flames. The water surrounded him, steam erupting as it touched his skin until he was encompassed and withered away to nothing.

Silence fell as the river dissolved. All was peaceful in the dense glade once again and you tipped your head to the rays of light that pierced through the canopy, basking in its warmth.

“How did you do that?”

You spun around to face the handsome stranger that had appeared behind you. In the shafts of light that broke the dark his jaw looked sharp below the hallows of his cheeks. His pale skin gave you the sinking feeling that this was death himself coming to greet you. Straightening your spine, you refused to show your trepidation.

“It is my dream, I can do whatever I want,” you answered sardonically. To prove your point, the ground swelled around you until it split and the chasm was filled with a threatening red liquid that resembled a moat of fiery blood. You were also well aware that it created a small distance between him and you.

“That is where you are mistaken,” he spoke softly, a deep and dark reverberation to his tone that seemed to rumble through the air with its own power. Sand swirled around his boots, carrying him closer, safely over the moat. Your neck craned back to look up at his face and you stood your ground as he trailed those curious eyes over your body. “This is my dream.”

A gold chain hung around his neck and you caught your wide-eyed reflections in the polished facets of a glowing ruby. The gemstone seemed to whisper to you, begging your touch enough to leave your fingers trembling at your side until you broke away. A dip grew between his dark brows as he watched the strange interaction with fascination and his head tilted slightly, the semblance of an intelligent bird coming to mind.

“You’re a creation,” he said with a deeper frown.

“Aren’t we all, in some way or another,” you replied with a confident smile, hoping it hid the waver in your voice.

“I suppose you are correct,” he nodded with a tight lipped smile. “We may be the Endless but we certainly had a beginning.”

Before you could question him to find out what an Endless was, a harsh screeching filled the air and the ground began to roll beneath your feet. The edges of the dream began to blur and fade away, a silent grey eating away the colourful world you had sculpted until only he remained. 

“Will you find me again?” you asked tentatively, undecided on whether it was wise or not to ask.

A small curl appeared at the corner of his lips and those sad, jaded eyes suddenly seemed lighter. “I already have.”

The Waking You felt his heavy presence before your eyes fluttered open. Dust particles twinkled as they drifted across the sunlight that speared through the gap in your curtain and you watched them disappear into the shadows where he stood.

You should have been startled, at the very least, by his blatant disregard to normal social behaviour but you found his demure nature to be quite soothing. The god complex from The Dreaming had simmered away when he left his realm for The Waking but he still held a formidable power in those eyes.  

“You’re shorter than I remember,” you said with a yawn as he took a step closer and let the sun illuminate his features. 

“A dreamer’s perception.” The words were cool but there was that light again, the shimmer of humour.

“Perhaps,” you chuckled. “Or you used your clever little tricks to make yourself appear bigger. It would not be the first time a man has tried that.”

Your eyes trailed over the leather vest he wore and down further still until his nose wrinkled and a scoff escaped his lips at your implied taunt. His long legs drew him closer until he towered over you at the edge of your bed and he dropped his hands either side of your head to cage you in. Your heart was pumping, the beats so loud that he could surely hear - only it was not from fear as you looked into his obsidian eyes.

“I am not a man. I am the King of Dreams. I am of the Endless.”

His chest was puffing as the silence enclosed around you and you wished you could see what was hidden beneath the dark, leather vestment he wore like an armour. You swore you could feel the warmth of his skin on yours, or at least the memory of it long forgotten, something you had been searching for.

“We are not in The Dreaming now,” you said as you sat up slowly. You had given him enough time to choose to give you space and back away or hold his position and let you inhale his scent that enveloped you. He gave not an inch as he kept your eyes captivated. The moment was more intimate than you had imagined it would be as you closed them and let your senses be filled with him - cherry wood and sweet smoke. “You’re in my realm.”

You trailed your index finger along the perfectly sewn seam that traced the lines of his chest and bit your lip as they began to unravel. 

“What are you?” he asked, unperturbed by the cool air now kissing his chest.

“Unique.”

“That I know,” he growled softly, catching your wrists before you could reach his leather pants, despite the way his pupils dilated at the idea of you removing them. “What are you exactly?”

You huffed and fell back onto your pillow, your body immediately missing his closeness. “An answer to a prayer. A dream come true. Take your pick.”

His lips parted in surprise and a breathless laugh bubbled out. “A miracle. You’re a miracle.”

 “That’s what my mother said,” you said with a shrug. “I didn’t believe her until…”

“Tell me,” he pleaded quietly as he dropped to his knees in your lingering silence. “Please.”

“On my 10th birthday, my dreams came true - my thoughts came to life,” you said barely above a whisper. Most people would think you were crazy, your childhood friends certainly thought it and it led to a solitary life. But here was this man, no, this King, accepting your words as gospel. “If I lose control, if I let my emotions consume me, then the world, Waking or Dreaming, begins to change. And not in a way that is intended.”

He leant forward, fascinated by the ability that was everything and nothing like his power. “It is as much a burden as it is a gift.”

You didn’t miss the self reflection or tic of his jaw as he clenched it shut. He was right.

“Tell me, King of Dreams, if given the chance, would you give your burden unto others so that they may bear its weight?”

He seemed to contemplate his answer before he stood up and held a hand out. You eyed the line of smooth skin from his long fingers, along the blue veins and across the straps of muscles that showed a hidden strength, coming to rest on the ruby that hung over his bare chest. The gemstone once again called to you as you accepted his hand and let him pull you from the bed. 

“Today it is not a burden,” he said with an almost smile. “Let me show you.”

You stepped closer to him as a sand storm began to encroach on the space around you. A blink later, you reluctantly returned his clothes to him. You would hate to see that body marred by the whipping grains of sand flying by. 

For a moment, all light was gone and you were certain the sand was going to swallow you whole. Just as quick as the orb sealed, it broke and a warm wind cast the sand to settle across the beach. High stone walls rose above you, your shadows reaching towards it as the sun warmed your back. It wasn’t the stone that held your attention as you stepped closer, but the carving that latticed their way across it, telling a story if one knew how to read them. 

“I’ve seen these before,” you muttered as you traced the chiselled symbol, straining to remember where it was. “Or something like these.”

A long moment passed before you shook your head and looked away, the teasing wisps of the memory fading as the high gates began to silently swing open. 

Following Dream’s beckoning, you walked the sandy path into his domain and marvelled at the lively sight. Creatures of all kinds roamed around, both on the ground and above. Not even your wildest imagination could have created such beautiful beings as the ones that now surrounded you. 

The rhythmic beat of strong wings sounded overhead and you ducked just as a large pearlescent dragon flew past, its tail narrowly missing Dream’s tousled hair. A deep chuckle rumbled like thunder through your bones and you turned with surprise to see a smile on his face.

His gaze was still on the dragon but his hands moved at his side, a gust of wind blowing a swirl of sand up into the air to form the silhouette of a dragon that quickly chased the other. The two dragons danced and played across the sky until they disappeared beyond the horizon and his smile went with it.

Wishing to see the joy on his face once more you veered from the path and plucked a blade of grass from the field. You ran the blade across your palm, feeling the velvet touch gently bounce over the lines that supposedly read your destiny. Dream flinched and clutched his cheek as he felt a phantom touch, a lover’s caress, before you laughed. He looked closer at your hand as you wrote upon your palm and he felt the words being softly drawn across his face.

“That was uncalled for, little miracle,” he tried to growl but the twitch of his lips said otherwise.

“I do have a name you know.”

He looked away to the distant palace whose spires glittered in the lingering daylight and a darkness cloaked him as he closed his eyes.

“A name gives power, Miracle,” Dream said. “Do not give your power away. Especially not to me.”

His glowering mood seemed to draw night over the land as the last rays of sun disappeared behind the wall and a shiver rolled over your body. Blowing on the blade of grass to transform it, you handed him the stem of the midnight rose. He didn’t wince at all as the thorns pierced his skin, a bright red bead of blood weaving its way between the maze of pricks. 

“Power is nothing, Dream,” you whispered in his ear, his breath dancing across your cheek as he turned to face you. “Unless you have someone to share it with.”

“Morpheus! Morpheus, come quick!” you loudly whispered into the ruby that hung around your neck.

A blast of wind nearly knocked you from your perch as Dream appeared beside you. The branch had been sturdy enough but the addition of another body on it now sent a bow along its length followed by an ominous creak.

“May I ask what you are doing in Fiddler's Green?” he asked before looking down and seeing he wasn’t standing quite on the Green at all, a frown etched across his brow. “I mistakenly thought you were in trouble of some kind. You haven’t got yourself stuck up here have you?”

“Ha ha,” you drawled, tempted to send your own little gust of wind his way. “Thank you for your concern but, other than your lanky self threatening to break the branch we are both balanced on, I actually called you here to see this.”

Morpheus’ eyes widened at the nest you had been sitting in front of, the eggs hidden until you stepped onto another branch. He eased his way closer so he didn’t startle the dragon that had already hatched. Its rainbow of colour shimmered with every scales movement and it slowly stretched its wings out, testing the leathery limbs without the egg limiting its space.

“Absolutely beautiful,” Dream whispered in awe as he turned his attention to you. “You did this.”

You went to deny it but the truth was there had only been one dragon left in The Dreaming and after seeing how happy she was chasing Morpheus’ shadow dragon on the afternoons you walked his realm together, you couldn’t deny her a true companion. You hadn’t realised the multi-hued blue dragon you created, to be the exact colour of Dream’s eyes when he was happy, would be able to procreate. But there they were, three dragon eggs hatching.

“We did this,” you corrected as you slipped your hand into his and gave it a squeeze. “Do you think this would upset God?”

Morpheus pursed his lips at the question, wondering about the implications of creating life as opposed to creating merely a dream. Finally, the corner of his lips curled up and he squared his shoulders back proudly. “No, my love. I believe the Creator of All Things would marvel at what his miracle had achieved.”

Warmth flooded you at the sincerity but there was no time to show your gratitude as the second egg began to crack open. The excitable parents were causing all manner of damage to the green’s pasture as they impatiently paced beneath the tree and you silently promised to repair the damage once you had safely delivered the babies.

“Have you thought of any names?” Morpheus asked before he placed a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“I have contemplated the Furies of Greek Myth, or maybe the Three Graces. I would like to see their temperament first before deciding.”

Dream chuckled and crouched down to pluck a particularly stubborn piece of shell from the dragon's back. The dragon immediately nudged its head under his hand and took shelter in his palm. “I feel they will be sweet-tempered, akin to the Graces.”

The tenderness of his touch, the yearning in his eyes, it left an ache in your chest that nearly knocked you from the tree. The image that had flashed through your mind was so strikingly vivid you couldn’t tell if it were real or not. Morpheus, King of Dreams, longed for a family of his own.

Click here for Chapter Two

[puppy-coded]

Notes{S.H.}

✰ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Steve being nervous, Robin is a little shit

✰ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

✰ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭:  901 words

“Stop being a wimp, just tell her you think she’s hot.” Robin said, sick of watching Steve basically freaking out over a girl.

Again.

“No! I can’t.” 

“Why not? She’s in my class and super sweet.” Robin told him, hopping up on the counter.

Steve pointed at Robin and nodded his head vigorously. “Exactly, she’s in your class. She’s too young.”

“That didn’t stop you when you confessed your undying love to me.” Robin replied dramatically. With hand gestures and everything.

“This is different!” Steve exclaimed.

“Anyway, this relationship will lead to more than just sex. Remember when we had that conversation on the way to school?” Robin asked, pushing him slightly.

“Yeah, I do. But what if...?” Steve faltered, trying to find the right words.He just didn’t know how to word his concerns.

Robin huffed and put her hands on her hips. “You’re scared that she’s also gay huh?”

“What? Pfft...” He floundered. “Yeah,” He finally admitted.

“Well my friend, she’s not.” She told him, patting his shoulder. “At least... I don’t think she is. Of course, she is my best friend and tells me everything. I don’t think she’s a lesbian.” She finally concluded. “Then again-”

“You are a terrible terrible hype man.” Steve told Robin. “Er... woman.” He corrected, slightly embarrassed.

“Please don’t ever procreate.” Robin told hip, shaking her head at him.

“Yep.” Steve agreed.

. . .

Robin made sure Steve had written down specific summaries from the new movies that they got. When he left she copied down his writing onto a piece of paper, all but tracing the words. 

Robin did feel a little bad about tricking one of her best friends but also... Steve’s being a coward.

She took her forged note and went to go find you at your locker. She was a little nervous but she knew what your answer would be to Steve Harrington.

An instant yes.

“Hey (Y/N)!” Robin greeted, a little too cheerily. She hoped you wouldn’t notice her sudden change in attitude at seven in the morning.

“Hey Robin, what’s up?” You greeted, briefly looking to her before grabbing your binder for your first class.

Robin took a deep breath and started talking. “Remember when you said you wanted Steve to notice you? Well I do and he does.”

“What?” You asked.

“Yeah, he wanted me to give this to you because he’s kind of a wimp.” She said, holding out the paper.

You took it and scanned over it. Robin watched as your face lit up the farther you got down the note.

“Steve wrote this?” You asked happily.

“Uh, yeah!” Robin responded after a second. “Yeah, he talks about you non... nonstop.”

The more Robin talked to you the more you were interested in the date.

“I’d love to go to the drive in with you Steve. Here’s my address. Pick me up at 8?”

“I mean, I’ve never been to a drive-in before but I imagine it’ll be fun.” You told Robin as you folded the paper you just wrote on “Here, tell him I wrote this.”

“Will do!” Robin saluted jokingly.

. . .

Robin practically ran into Family Video with your note in her hand. 

“Steve!” She screeched into the store, clearly excited.

“What?” Steve asked, covering his ears.

“Remember when you said you liked my friend?” Robin asked across the counter.

Steve blinked, unamused. “It was yesterday.”

“Yeah well, she gave me this at school to give this to you.” Robin shoved the note into his hand and waited for his reaction.

Steve unfolded it and traced your writing for a few seconds. He stared at each letter in awe. “Wow... Her handwriting is so pretty. It’s like... fancy.”

“Okay Shakespeare, you read it yet?” Robin huffed, getting impatient.

Steve smiled as he read it. “Yeah. And she left a little heart too. She’s so cute.” He sighed dreamily.

Robin gave him a disgusted look. “Chill. It’s just a note.”

. . .

Steve had nervously checked himself in his rear-view mirror. He was about to get out of his car and get you when you had walked out of your house. He sat in his seat, frozen in place until you got there. He finally relaxed when you buckled in the passenger seat.

“Hey.” He greeted awkwardly.

“Hi!” You greeted with a smile.

“I’m glad you wanted to come.” Steve said, pulling out of your driveway. 

You looked in the mirror to fix you lip gloss. “I’m glad Robin gave me that sweet note you wrote.”

Steve was quiet for a moment, a puzzled look pinching his features together. “What note?”

You laughed, thinking that he was probably messing with you. “Robin gave me a note from you. It was you asking me to go to the drive-in with you. Mine was in response to it.” You explained.

“I don’t... Oh my god, now I know why Robin wanted me to log those specific movies.” He realized, hitting his forehead. “It makes so much sense now!”

“Why?” 

“I was nervous about asking you out and I guess she did it for me.” Steve shrugged, shaking his head as though he was annoyed.

“Still exciting that I’m on a date with King Steve Harrington.” You said, putting the visor mirror up.

Steve smiled and seemed relaxed for the first time since you got into his car. “Yep! Currently hoping the girl next to him will be his queen.”

[vitaegratis]

Eddie was annoyed now, not with Chrissy, but with himself. It never should have gotten to this point, and he had no one to blame but himself for the fact it had. He couldn’t get all defensive about this - well, he could, but that would just make him an asshole. A bigger one. Most everything Chrissy was saying was correct, and even if the answers were obvious? Her questions were valid.

“��I know. I do need to stop with it, you’re right. You’re not fragile, and hand to God? I might treat you that way, but I don’t think of you that way. You’re precious… and sensitive… but you’re also the toughest person I’ve ever met. Tougher than I could ever hope to be. Not trying to kiss ass, or get out of this with flattery. It’s true. You’re resilient. You shouldn’t have had to be, but… yeah. After everything you’ve been through… I like taking care of you, but you’re right. I shouldn’t coddle you. It’s demeaning. So is repeating myself, which I don’t… I know you’re not stupid, come on now. I’m not trying to talk down to you, I’m just trying to… buy myself some time. To figure out what to say, so I don’t dig myself a deeper hole.”Overthinking - especially right now - would have do just that. Still, Eddie wanted to be thoughtful with his words.

“I had a feeling you’d snap at me, yes… not the phrasing I’d choose - but not inaccurate. I knew I’d deserve it, too. Cause whether or not I meant to, I did string you along, and I have been a stupid jerk. Way too many times. Total transparency, though? I can do that, let’s start with this. You want to know what sets you apart from any girl that came before, though? It should be obvious, but I’ll say it anyway. I love you. They didn’t mean anything, Cheer Bear. You mean everything… and that’s why I was such a wuss. I was a coward, I was trying to spare my own feelings - because I didn’t know what to do with them. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I do about you, and that terrified me. I didn’t want to screw it up, lose you, get either of us hurt. Yeah, I know that’s ironic. I know I should have communicated… and I know I still struggle with that. Clearly. Instead of treating you like you were fragile, we should have just talked about it. I should have just trusted you… and I should have trusted myself. It was self sabotage. I thought taking it slow, not putting a label on it - that would make it less intimidating. That defining it made it real. It was dumb, I know that. The feelings were real, call a spade a spade… whether or not it was defined? I wanted you, wanted us, more than anything. I was sure of how I felt. I didn’t need to figure that out. I just nutted up and let us be happy, put out sooner.”

He’d never live that down either, would he? Him making her wait? Christ. He wanted to go back and smack himself. He had convinced himself he was being considerate - not wanting her to feel rushed or obligated, wanting to be sure that she was sure. No, truth of the matter? He was just a pussy. It was belittling. Insulting. “I should have just trusted you, not doubted you or myself. I’m sorry. It was disrespectful. I mean, I’ve been disrespectful. Whether or not I’ve meant to be, whether I was trying to spare your feelings… or my own. Not even limiting it to relationship stuff - any girls who came before. I mean, I dragged my feet telling you about my folks. Meanwhile, you let me in… and I know that was… I know that was a big deal. I’m sorry, Chrissy.”

He wanted to grovel, to beat himself up - but that wasn’t productive. That was the opposite of trying to do better, that would actively piss her off and he knew it. Only real change, action, could make this better. Not just words, no treats or gestures. That said, she most certainly would be getting flowers and a stuffy sent to her at work.

---☁︎｡⋆｡ There was a sharp intake of breath once Eddie started speaking once more. Chrissy rolled her eyes, keeping her gaze on anything but him; It would just make her more angry and frustrated. "You need to stop treating me like I'm some delicate and fragile thing," she huffed. Her entire life Chrissy was treated like she was porcelain- If she was treated too roughly, she would simply break. The teen may be emotional, but she certainly wasn't fragile. Any treatment otherwise simply angered her. However, the more he continued to speak, the irks and ires popped up more and more. "I know what deceptive means," she snapped, finally looking up at the brunet. "You don't need to reiterate by repeating the definition, I'm not stupid." The opportunity to go for a low blow was on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed the words down.

--- She wanted to know what separated her from whomever Eddie fucked previously. And she wasn't an idiot, there had been rumors. Chrissy was the type of girl who knew near everything that happened in Hawkins High. There had been 2 girls she could think of off the top of her head. “So you knew I’d snap at you?” she asked in a tone, most unimpressed. There were a few moments where she just looked at the man. The annoyance melted off her face and a sort of indifference found its way there instead. “Eddie. You have a sort of disappointing trend of not meaning to be deceptive to spare my feelings.” There was a beat, “Or maybe you’re sparing yours by being dishonest with me.” She began to chew on her lip, gathering her thoughts best she could. “You strung me along for months, you know that right? Months. Because you were too big of a wuss. Boyfriend in every action but title. Months, Eddie.”

[noforkingclue]

hi, it's the evil!Morgana anon from last time :) I really liked your fic!! You did an amazing job! ❤️❤️ also if you feel like writing it, could I request an angsty evil!morgana x fem!reader? thanks! 🥰

Thank you anon! It's been awhile since I've written anything Merlin related so I hope this is good!

Title: One Last Meeting

Merlin tag list: @geocookie21

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @imjustassaneasyou, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian

You took a deep breath of the cool air as the wind whipped around you. The night was unsettled, you could tell, and you knew that after this evening everything was going to change. You closed your eyes as you felt the change in the air, a small smile on your face.

“It’s been awhile,” you said, not opening your eyes, “You’ve been busy.”

“You’ve been away.”

“My kind are not welcome here. At least for the meantime.”

“Then why come back?”

“Because you called for me.”

You opened your eyes and turned around to face Morgana. She raised an eyebrow at you as she walked slowly towards you. You didn’t move from your spot and you watched her curiously.

“I’ve called to you before,” she said, “And you’ve previously ignored me. What makes now so different.”

“You are on the verge of war.”

“Correct.”

“And you want me to fight with you.”

“Yes.”

“Morgana,” you sighed and shook your head, “You know that I cannot do that.”

Tension filled the air and Morgana clenched her jaw in irritation. You had known Morgana for long enough to know that she would not take your answer well.

“Together we can destroy Camelot.”

“I have no intention of destroying it.”

“Fine,” she said, “Take it over.”

“I have no intention of doing that either.”

“Why not?”

“Because that is not our destiny.”

“Then what is?”

“I cannot tell you that,” you said with a sigh, “As I have told you many times before.”

You turned on you heel, your cloak swishing in the wind, as you prepared to leave. As you brushed passed her, Morgana’s hand shot out and grabbed your arm. You looked down at her hand but she refused to let go.

“If you leave,” she said, “Uther will kill you.”

“If I stay Uther will kill me,” you said, “I am a Druid. It doesn’t matter where we run, we will always be hunted.”

“Then help me destroy him.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because that is not my way,” you put your hand on top of hers and gently pried it off your arm, “I will not resort to violence.”

“So you’d rather die.”

“I will not betray the values that I was raised on.”

“I never took you to be a coward.” Morgana spat

“Is it cowardice to go up against the person you love?”

You cupped Morgana’s face and brushed your thumbs over her cheeks. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment as she leant into your touch.

“You cannot fight violence with more violence,” you said, “You will only show Uther what he believes- that magic is dangerous and should be removed from the land.”

“Violence is the only language that Uther knows.”

“There will come a time when his views will change. That the views of those who come after him will be different to his.”

“You really believe that.”

“I can but hope,” you said with a sad smile, “Without hope, what is there?”

“I don’t want to see you die.”

“Uther will not kill me. You have my word.”

You pressed a kiss against Morgana’s forehead and shut your eyes. This wasn’t an easy decision to make and yet it was one you must do.

“You’re really choosing your principles over me.”

“Oh Morgana,” you pressed your forehead against hers, “This is about doing what is right.”

“I’m not going to see you again, am I?”

You smiled sadly at her and blinked rapidly, determined not the let the tears fall.

“May we meet again in another life,” you said sadly, “Do not let the desire for revenge cloud your soul.”

[wifebread]

Obsessed | Pt.7

Pairing: Stalker!Min Yoongi x Original female character

Tags: Forced relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Manipulations, Mentions of cruelty, Mentions of deaths, Mentions of drugs, Murders, Original female character,  Out of character, Stalking, Unhealthy relationships, Violence.

Summary: She wasn't afraid of this man, didn't take threats seriously, blaming everything on the fact that it was just to attract attention. However, she did’t know what he was capable of.

word count: 2,4k

I do not condone the actions described in the story, this is all fiction and does not relate to the real members of the BTS in any way. If you are uncomfortable with tags, please do not read!! Or read at your own risk.

a/n: Thanks to the wonderful author who allowed me to translate this work! Please keep in mind that English is not my native language, so if you notice any mistakes, point them out to me! I can also edit the chapter after I publish it, so don't be surprised if you see some strange moments (it means I haven't corrected them yet). Thank you.

source: https://ficbook.net/readfic/12255891

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 ,Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8

"Don't distress yourself"

“Is it uncomfortable to lie on wood?” he asked watching Percy constantly squirming and trying to take a different position. The girl nodded and wanted to roll over on her back. “Let's move to the grass.”

Lifting the Song in his arms, the stranger went to the tree to lie down next to it.

Lowering the girl, he sat down on the ground himself, resting her head on his legs. Percy was finally able to roll over and face the stranger. Contrary to her expectations, it wasn't Suga. How did she determine that? His hair is blond, and the stranger had peach-colored hair. Percy stared at him for a long time, not caring at all that it was indecent.

“You’re about to drill a hole in me with your eyes,” looking into Percy’s eyes, whose head was still on his lap, the guy said.

“What a coward he is,” chuckled Song, rolling over on her side. Inside, everything was burning, tearing apart. “Sent another errand boy, no offense.”  she added, waving her hand.

“What makes you think that someone sent me? I dragged myself here.”

“Because there was almost no one in the park. In addition, nowadays, no one will run himself to help, without someone's requests and orders. To shoot on the phone – yes, to help – hardly. Most people, passing by those who need help, think: "someone will help him," therefore they simply ignore.

“Okay, I give up,” the stranger said hesitantly. “But seriously, why did you jump into the water?”

“What difference does it make now? It didn't work out anyway.” the girl pressed her hands to her chest, looking at the pier from which she jumped some time ago, hoping to drown.

They were in this position in silence for a couple of minutes, until the guy decided to answer the girl's words anyway. And although he might get in trouble for it, he just couldn't leave it like that.

“Think about it,” he began, exhaling and looking up at the sky. “if he had come here or to the party himself, would he have been able to control himself?” Percy rolled over on her back, then looked questioningly at the guy.  “He's ready to bury half the city just for saying an unkind word to you. At the same time,” poking the girl's forehead with his index finger, he continued. “he himself can, in a fit, mess things up and harm.”

“Nonsense,” Song began with a snort. “You are now retelling a chapter from some mafia fan fiction on wattpad. V said he's angry now.”  After a short pause, Percy continued. “He would definitely... kill me.”

"He's not mad at you,” the guy began, rubbing his eyes and sighing heavily. “but at  himself. God, who am I explaining it to? Whatever I tell you, it's all fantasy and chapters from fan fiction.”

The girl thought about the guy's words. Percy wondered why Suga was mad... at himself. Maybe because he chose her?

“Why is he angry?” Song asked softly, fingering the grass.

“What do you think?” the guy looked at her as if she was a fool, and she just shrugged her shoulders. “What funny kids you are," he said with a grin. “Because ...” the guy did not have time to finish, when suddenly the phones of both vibrated.

Percy left her smartphone at the pier so that, in case of failure with drowning, it wouldn’t be damaged. And yet, she assumed the option that she would stay alive.

Abruptly rising from the guy's lap, Son sat down on the grass and turned on the phone entering the messages.

From: Suga

23:44 "The princess can't live without a formidable dragon?"

The girl snorted, reading the message over and over again. She thought it was funny, because thoughts about the film "Shrek" immediately crept into her head.

However, the guy whose name we still don't know was tense and in no hurry to open messages. Although he was a person close to Suga, you can expect anything from him.

From: Suga

23:46 "Jin was supposed to give you a note"

23:46 "Did he do it?"

The girl looked at the guy who started searching his pockets. Taking out the cherished piece of paper, Jin put it on the grass.

“He'll definitely hang me," the guy said, laughing. The problem is that the piece of paper was in his pocket all the time. And at the moment when he was pulling Percy out of the water too, that’s why it was all wet and it became extremely problematic to make out the text.

"And you don't remember what was there?"  Song asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I'll tell you more," Jin began, trying to dry the paper and waving his hand. “I was not enlightened at all about what was written there.”

The girl was shaking again, but not from the cold. Percy realized that she had to get out of it somehow, otherwise Jin would suffer.

Song looked at him, then at the smartphone, thinking what to do.

If you answer "no", you will sign the guy's sentence, but whether he is mortal or not is unknown. If you text "yes", you can screw up if he asks you to tell him what was in that note.

“Hit-or-miss,” Percy whispered, exhaling, and then answered Suga "yes."

The girl immediately told Jin that she had answered Suga, so together they began to wait for an answer from him.

He didn't keep them waiting long.

From: Suga

23:50 "Good"

23:51 "Then don't forget to leave the window open for me ;)"

Goosebumps ran down the girl's body, and her legs became wadded up, and it seemed that if she got up now, she would fall back to the ground like a sack.

“Well, what's there?” noticing how the girl changed her face, Jin asked, pursing his lips.

“He told me to leave the window open for him.”  Percy cleared her throat. “So... he'll come by himself?” Jin looked away, lost in thought. “Or just deliver something?”

There was silence for a couple of minutes.

“You know,” the guy suddenly began. “I don't want to scare you or upset you, but most likely he will come himself.”  Jin said with a sigh.

“And what will he do?”  the girl asked the guy, thinking that he knows everything, even though it's not so. “He doesn't want to tell his name, and he wasn't going to show his face either.”

"Nobody knows what's on Suga's mind," Jin began, spreading his hands. "Only him himself. Don't distress yourself," the guy continued, patting the girl on the shoulder. "He hasn't done anything to you, and he won't.”  Jin highlighted the last words. “He'll try to scare you, yes.” taking the phones and sticking the microphones and speakers into the ground, the guy said. “I don't know if he will threaten...”  Jin continued hesitantly, which made the girl laugh hysterically.

"He's already threatened," Percy said, sighing. “It seems to me that I can take it all. I messed up, made him angry, and you said that no one knows what's on his mind. No one can guarantee that he won’t touch me, even if he loves me greatly.

Jin tensed, looking sympathetically at the girl.

“I can only give advice,” looking at one point, the guy began, to which Percy nodded questioningly. “Indulge his whims; try not to make him angry anymore. If he's going to visit, then prepare yourself somehow.”

Percy looked away and went deep into her thoughts:

"How to prepare?"

"Go to the shower, clean up the room and buy something delicious?"

"Or prepare in another way?"

"Not in this lifetime! If this psychopath thinks that I'm going to sleep with him, hell no"

"And if he gets this from me with threats?"

"Or maybe he just wants to talk?"

And in order not to waste nerves and not scare herself with the worst options, the girl stopped at going to the shower, she will clean up the room and get something for tea.

***

On the way home, Percy went into a convenience store and bought brownies, as well as a cake.

She has already laid out sweets on her desktop and cleaned up. All she had to do is take a shower.

 “He shouldn't get mad,” Percy thought as she lathered her hair. "I do everything for His Majesty," the girl continued her thoughts with a chuckle.

Percy didn’t even suspect that he was standing under the windows to her room and waiting for her to come out of the bathroom.

Suga liked the idea of Percy going to the convenience store at night, alone, despite her fear of the dark, and buying something for him. He was especially glad that the girl was now splashing in the shower for him. Wants to smell nice and maybe to please him. But how much is enough?

“I love this feeling," Percy said, exhaling and plopping down on the bed.

The girl did not dry her hair, because it's night outside and parents will be angry because of the noise. Removing the towel from her head, Percy got out of bed and hung it on the door that leads to the bathroom.

After looking around the room and not noticing the changes, Song sighed with relief and, taking the phone, lay down on the bed. The girl was looking for a comfortable position for a long time, and finally, when she lay down on her right side, she was able to relax.

She wanted to dismiss thoughts about Suga and the fear of him somewhere far away, but it was difficult to do so. Even her favorite program could not help distract her, because the image of the guy immediately popped up before her eyes.

Song had never seen him, so she could only build an image herself. In Percy's eyes, Suga's body was completely covered with tattoos; because of Shin's words, Percy thought he was a bodybuilder or a former trainer at a fitness club; age over 20, although thoughts crept in that he was 30 at all; light eyes, possibly blue.

The last thing she wanted to think about was that he was over 30. Percy finds it disgusting.

While Song was immersed in her thoughts, almost not listening to the presenters of the program, she didn’t notice how the mattress bent under the weight of someone else's body. For a moment, Percy thought she was imagining it. However, she realized that she was wrong when she was hugged around the waist and pressed to someone. The phone immediately fell out of the hand.

"The dragon has come to his princess," the guy's slightly hoarse voice was heard right next to her ear, which made Percy twitch. There was no doubt that it was Suga. After all, who in their right mind would climb into someone's room through a window?

"Don't shake, my darling," Suga purred, burying his nose in the girl's neck. “Do you know how long I've been waiting for this?”  after a short silence, he continued, hugging Percy even more tightly. “They are cold even after a shower,” taking Son by the hand and twining her fingers with his, he continued.

“Are you..." it sounded like a squeak, so Song cleared her throat. “mad at me?”  She felt Suga tensed. The guy squeezed Percy's fingers harder, causing a slight pain. However, when he heard the girl hiss, he let go.

“Why would I be mad at you?” he purred, running his nose along Percy's neck, which caused goosebumps. "It's not your fault.”

Closing her eyes for a moment, the girl exhaled faintly.

“But let's make a deal," Suga began, releasing Song's hand and sliding up her body to her neck. “that you will no longer go to such parties, meet someone and turn off the phone.” the guy covered Percy's neck with his palm, then lightly squeezed. "Baby, you'll really upset me if you let someone else touch you.” he continued, squeezing her throat harder, which really scared Percy.

“Okay,” feeling a tickle in her throat, the girl answered hoarsely, covering the guy's hand with her own in an attempt to remove it.

“Not 'okay' ” Suga suddenly barked, throwing the girl away from him, causing her to almost fall off the bed. “Today you turned off your phone and tried to drown yourself, and what are you going to do tomorrow?”  The guy grabbed Percy's shoulders. “Will you become a drug addict and go to a whorehouse?”

Song looked into Suga's eyes and was surprised at how quickly his mood changed. She noticed that the guy was quite attractive and that he had a wiry build.

“How can you not understand that you will only be happy with me?” Suga looked like a child. "Do I have to lock you up with hundreds of locks so that you don't disobey anymore?"  After these words, Percy's mouth opened slightly in mute shock.

"I'm sorry, I didn't... I didn't mean to scare you." lifting Song and pressing it to his chest, he said.

"Don't lock me up," the girl whispered, afraid to move.

And although Percy could save herself with words: "I swear I won't disappoint you anymore! We can see each other, go for a walk and even start a relationship, because I like you!" she sat motionless. Song decided to act a little differently.

"If you want to lock me up, it's obviously not at my house, right?"  Suga nodded. “Don't you think it's we should... start seeing each other more and get to know each other better in order to move to such a level?" she was trying to delay what Suga was talking about. Percy has no doubt that he can lock her up.

"I like your idea," Suga chuckled, pulling Song closer to him and kissing the top of her head. "Maybe my darling will see that I'm not a monster or a beast, and then I won't have to lock her up.”  the girl, pulling a smile, recoiled from the guy, looking into his eyes. Running her hand over his cheek, she was surprised at how pale Suga's skin was.

“Is this for me?” nodding at the boxes of sweets on the table, the guy asked.

“Of course,” Song replied without removing her fake smile.

Percy had read articles about unhealthy people more than once, so she decided that it was better to play along with him and do as he wanted. Over time, he may get tired of Song and Suga will forget her.

to be continued...

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Pregnant!Female!Reader) pt. 14

Hannibal reads too much into Max's attempt to reconcile and cult girl revisits her past.

@wisesandwichshark @pearlstiare

Trigger warnings: discussions of death, abandonment, military casualties, emotional abuse

You soon returned to the opera knowing you had nothing to hide. Hannibal selected for you an off-white maternity gown so form-fitting it was practically painted on. He wanted everyone to see that you, his queen, empress and goddess, were carrying his child.

It only took that evening for the whole dynamic to change. Suddenly, you were an expectant new mother. Imogen had been a massive hit, you were planning to go again.

You were affixing your heavy cubic zirconia earrings when you heard a knock at the door. You hesitated, but hurried down the stairs when you saw who it was.

"Max?" You said, upon opening the door. He stood there awkwardly, holding a bouquet of flowers. "Hi?"

"Hey, [F/N]." Max greeted, eyes darting nervously around the porch. "I just came around to apologize in person. I'm sorry I was such a chauvinist prick."

You leaned against the door. "Oh?"

"You were right." He continued. "I don't know what it's like to carry a baby, and, unless something goes very wrong, I never will."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." You smiled.

"Anyway, these are for you." He said, handing the bouquet over. "They're chrysanthemums."

"Thank you, Max." You said, accepting the flowers.

"Archie and I-" He scratched the back of his head. "We thought that, maybe, if you'd still have us, that we'd name the baby Chrysanthemum. With your permission, of course."

"Like the picture book?" Your face lit up. "With the little mouse girl?"

Max nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, exactly."

You hugged the bouquet into your chest and considered it again. You looked back at Hannibal, who hadn't looked up from his expectant fathers' website for a second all day. He surrounded himself with books about child psychology, attachment theory, developmental behavior patterns and somehow found himself on a tangent about institutionalized misogyny in medicine.

"I'm sorry, Max." You said, sincerely. "I really do appreciate you coming down here and apologizing, but-"

Max put his hands up and gave you a disarming smile. "I understand. Plans change."

"I just really want to stress that it's not you." You assured him. "I've kind of... really grown to like the idea of being a parent. And I think that was Hannibal's plan all along, too."

"I believe a congratulations is in order, then." His voice turned up in delight. "I'm very happy for you. Both of you."

You clutched the bouquet to your chest. "Thank you."

"Well, I'd better get going." He stepped backwards down the stairs. "I've got three pints of Ben and Jerry's in the backseat and Archie'll have my head if I come home and they've melted."

"Max, wait." You stopped him before he could get down the driveway.

"Hm?"

You leaned against the threshold and smiled warmly. "Don't be a stranger, okay?"

Max returned the smile. "Of course not."

You waved goodbye and shut the door. You hurried to the kitchen to put the flowers in water before you had to go.

"Who was that, love?" Hannibal asked, half-heartedly. He was still very fixated on his research.

"Max Thomas-Park." You answered, unwrapping the flowers from the decorative plastic.

Hannibal looked up from his computer, but left the room silent for you to fill.

"He wanted to make amends." You explained. You walked across the room to the china cabinet and selected a vase big enough to hold the ornate bouquet. "Brought flowers and everything."

"Chrysanthemums?" He asked, sniffing the air.

"I see your sense of smell is coming back." You commented.

"Interesting selection." He narrowed his eyes on the bouquet.

"Well, he said that was what he wanted to name the kid." You offered. "It was a cute pitch, not gonna lie."

Hannibal shut his laptop and examined the bouquet up close. "If he wanted to express regret, he would have done better to bring you blue or purple hyacinths."

"Well, like I said." You made a point to project a little more. "He said he wanted to name his daughter chrysanthemum."

"Mums are given to show sympathy for those in mourning." Hannibal continued, clearly having his own conversation.

"Hannibal-"

"I think your cousin got her hooks in him and he's planning to--" He cut himself off, lest he speak the unthinkable into reality. "That's why he brought mourning flowers."

"Max Thomas-Park is conspiring with Anna to kill our unborn baby?" You said, flatly, to emphasize how insane he sounded.

Hannibal held a bloom between his fingers and looked closely at it. "It's the kind of hint I would leave. For courtesy's sake."

"I think looking at parenting blogs all day has made you a little paranoid." You observed, knowing full well that an overprotective husband and soon-to-be father of your child was not a bad problem to have. Nevertheless, you shut the laptop and touched his cheek. "Come on. We're going to be late for the opera."

You heaved yourself into the passenger's seat of the car, feeling the seat give beneath your heavy frame. Every time you got into the car, you remembered that you needed to shop for a car seat. The thought just as soon left your mind every time. 

“We need to look for a car seat.” You said as Hannibal shut the door, hoping that he’d remember. 

“I mean,” Hannibal blurted out, still lost in his own conversation. “Max is a cultured and well-educated man. He has to know the implications of his flowers.” 

You huffed, dreading to think that paranoid delusion was symptomatic of his parenting style. “Right. The twenty-seven year old data analyst who graduated with a finance MBA from UChicago is also proficient in the outdated and frivolous language of flowers.” 

“In Italy, mums are only given as comfort for loss.” Hannibal said with undeserved conviction. “Exclusively, [F/N].” 

You rolled your eyes and typed something up on your phone. You raised your eyebrows, feeling a bit proud of yourself for what you found. 

“In Korea, y’know, the country that Max’s family is from,” You corrected. “The chrysanthemum is a symbol of friendship.” 

Hannibal tensed up for a moment, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. It was as if he were trying to break himself out of a trance. “...I’m sorry, darling.” 

“I know you’re scared.” You stared at his profile, trying to make out an expression. “I’m also... pretty scared. But you can’t take it out on a guy who has nothing to do with it.” 

“I am scared.” He affirmed, but the way in which he did was a telltale sign that he wasn’t giving you the full story. 

“Of?” You raised your eyebrow. “Finish the sentence, Hannibal.” 

"I need to keep our baby safe." He answered. "And I cannot in good conscience let her come into the world knowing that someone wants to hurt her. To hurt you."

You sighed. "Hannibal, are you seriously still worried about Anna?"

"Don't underestimate the role privilege and entitlement plays in the decision to commit acts of violence." He enunciated carefully. "You of all people should know that."

"Anna has cultivated such a perfect victim image to project outwardly that even a hint of proactive violence would shatter it." You explained. "She's the poor girl who has things done to her. Her evil cousin ruined her marriage. Her evil cousin destroyed her career. And she's the innocent victim in all of it."

"Logically, I know that you can speak on her behavior with more authority than I." Hannibal admitted.

"No shit." You scoffed. "I had to live with her."

"Can we at least entertain the idea that she has something planned?" He pleaded.

"I'm surprised at you." You said. "You never really struck me as the overly-cautious type."

Hannibal shook his head. "With my own life, I'm willing to gamble. But not when it's you. And not when it's Imogen."

You tensed up. His admitted willingness to put himself in danger unlocked a core memory you had buried deep down. The only thing you knew about your own father was that he was willing to put himself in danger. To go overseas and die for fuck-all instead of live for the child he selfishly created then abandoned. He chose to give his life for oil. You didn't choose to grow up without a father and your mother didn't choose to raise a child without a partner. He made that choice for you.

"Now what are you not telling me?" Hannibal broke you out of your trance. "I know that look, [F/N]."

"Nothing." You shook your head. "You should really not plan on dying anytime soon."

"I promise you, I am not going anywhere." His voice softened. "Least of all, to Iraq."

"Okay, you're a pretty good therapist but you never told me you could read minds." You threw your hands up in defeat. "Are you a psychiatrist or are you Loki?"

"As fun as being the god of mischief would be," Hannibal smiled to himself. "I just happen to have a steel-trap memory and an admittedly quite obsessive fixation on the mental health of the mother of my child."

"I swear to god I never told you about him." You denied. "Not even in passing."

"You didn't have to." He assured you. "Beatrice did."

You were surprised for a fraction of a second until the information sat in your head long enough to realize it wasn’t surprising in the slightest. Beatrice took every opportunity she got to brag about her son's sacrifices. She never once mentioned the sacrifices he forced upon you. Only that her son was a hero.

"Did you get the 'don't believe anything [F/N] has to say about my son' speech?" Your voice flattened in complete non-surprise.

"It was a prepared speech?" Hannibal chuckled. "Pity. I thought I was special."

"She gave it to my first boyfriend." You rolled your eyes. "We were, like, fifteen."

"The root of your psychological issues becomes clearer every time we talk about Beatrice." He commented under his breath.

"I know." You conceded.

He pulled into the parking lot, turned the car off and placed his hand over yours.

"Your father was a coward." He said, bluntly. It was nice to hear what had been echoing in the back of your head out loud for once. "I know no country to serve. No god to glorify. I promise, you have the whole of me. My mind, body and soul belongs to you and our child."

You squeezed his hand. "I couldn't ask for anything else."