#and in turn you can tell how much work and effort and dedication went into cinderellas castle

[untimelyambition]

very fond of these little interactions between the cast at the very end of the show as the finale starts

[mrsfancyferrari]

Fragments of Hope

Summary: You had an argument with Daniel and you decided to leave him for a while. What you didn't know is that he can't live without you.

Song: MILLION DOLLAR BABY - Tommy Richman

Author’s note: I can't write short stories to save my life. I hope you enjoy this long journey which may take a full day to read. Please like, reblog and share this! <3

Word count: 4.6k

"Daniel, I feel like you're prioritizing your racing career over our relationship. It seems like you don't care about me anymore." You said, stressing over the fact that Daniel didn't understand.

"I understand why you might feel that way, but racing is my passion and it's important to me. I want you to know that you're also a priority in my life." Daniel replied.

"Well it certainly does feel like it sometimes," You muttered, standing up from your seat.

"Y/N please listen to me," Daniel pleaded, standing up to follow you.

"No you listen to me!" you yelled, turning around to face him. "Everyday you stay in the paddock until 1AM or later when you come home and then you leave at 8AM to go back to work. Daniel, I have less than 7 hours to spend time with you and it's mostly used on you sleeping,"

"I understand that it may feel that way, but racing is not just a career for me. It's my passion," Daniel pleaded, his voice filled with sincerity. "I love you more than words can express, and I want to make it work between us."

"How Daniel, tell me how you are going to fix this because right now, I don't feel like I'm in a relationship with you but a friend who helps you."

Daniel stood there, his eyes filled with regret and realization. He had never seen you so upset before, and your words struck a chord deep within him. He knew that he had to make a change, to find a way to balance his racing career with your needs and desires.

"That's what I thought," You muttered, taking your phone before heading for the door, "Don't follow me,"

Feeling frustrated and hurt, you stormed out of the house and went to your best friend's house for the night.

As you're on your way to your friend's place, your phone dies, leaving you disconnected from Daniel. However, when you finally arrive at your friend's house, you decide to check your phone for any missed messages.

Opening your photos or messages, you notice several messages and calls from Daniel. One that read, "I'm sorry for what happened. Are you at your friend's house?"

You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of anger and sadness.

Despite your hurt feelings, you decide to text him back, "Yes, I'm at my friend's house. I need some time to think and process everything. Please respect my space for now."

It's late at night when you find yourself sitting with your friend, doing your skin care routine together. You decide to share your situation with her, expecting some reassurance.

As you pour your heart out to your friend, she listens attentively, her eyes filled with empathy. "I can understand why you're feeling hurt and frustrated," she says, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"It's important to prioritize your own needs and emotions in a relationship. You deserve someone who can dedicate time and effort to nurturing your connection."

"But I have got to remind you how in love Daniel looks when he's with you," your friend said, her voice filled with sincerity.

"I've seen the way his eyes light up when he talks about you, and the way he always puts your happiness first. Maybe this situation is a wake-up call for him to prioritize your relationship and find a better balance. Give him a chance to make things right, but also remember to listen to your own needs and make decisions that are best for you."

You nod, appreciating your friend's perspective and words of encouragement. "You're right," you reply, "I do see how much Daniel cares about me. I'll take some time to reflect on what I need and have an open conversation with him."

The next day, you and Daniel barely exchange any words. It feels like there's a tension between the two of you, but you try to ignore it.

As the race day approaches, you find yourself watching Daniel's race. Unfortunately, he doesn't perform well, finishing in 19th place. The disappointment weighs heavily on both of you and knew that Daniel would be very disappointed in himself, but you decide to give it some time.

You were always the one to comfort him after a bad race, reminding him that everyone has off days and that his performance does not define his worth as an athlete. You would assure him that you still believed in him and that you're proud of the effort he put in.

Feeling conflicted, you decide to reach out to Daniel after his disappointing race. Despite being in your friend's house, you understand that he is most likely in the paddock as usual.

You send him a text expressing your support and reminding him that you believe in his abilities, hoping that it will provide some comfort during this challenging time. . . .

Days turn into weeks, and the tension between you and Daniel remains. One night, you receive a strange picture from Lando, a close friend of Daniel's and you.

In the photo, you see Daniel, his usually composed and determined demeanor replaced with disheveled hair and glassy eyes. His grip on the lamppost is tight, as if it's the only thing keeping him upright.

The streetlights cast an eerie glow on his face, highlighting the exhaustion and despair etched in his features. It's a stark contrast to the vibrant and confident person you've known him to be.

As you study the image, a wave of concern washes over you. You can't help but wonder what has led Daniel to this point.

Is it the mounting pressure of his racing career? The strain on your relationship? Or something deeper that you're unaware of?

Unable to bear the weight of uncertainty any longer, you decide to video call Lando, hoping to gain some insight into what has been happening with Daniel lately.

"Lando, what's going on?" you asked worriedly, your voice filled with concern as you hoped to gain some insight into what has been happening with Daniel lately.

"Oh yeah hey Y/N, your boyfriend is really drunk and he is hugging a lamppost with all of his strength," Lando explained, showing his face and waving at the camera.

"I've been trying to get him to come back to the house, but he's been pretty stubborn. I think he's been struggling with the disappointment from the race and it's just gotten to him."

"Let me see him,"

As Lando shifted the camera towards Daniel, you could see the toll that his recent struggles had taken on him. His usually vibrant eyes were bloodshot and glazed over, filled with a mixture of exhaustion and anguish.

His disheveled hair clung to his sweaty forehead, and his once confident posture had slouched, as if weighted down by the burden he carried.

It was clear that he was in a state of deep distress, and your heart ached at the sight of him clinging to the lamppost, seeking solace in his own thoughts.

"Daniel baby," you said in a gentle tone that you would only use for him. Daniel perked up, looking around for you, his eyes scanning the surroundings until they finally met yours on the video call.

There was a glimmer of recognition and relief in his eyes as he realized you were there, offering him a lifeline of support and understanding amidst his turmoil.

With a shaky voice, Daniel whispered, "Y/N, is that you?" His words carried a mix of vulnerability and hope, as if he was desperate for your presence to validate his struggles and offer him the comfort he desperately needed.

Your heart racing, you didn't waste a second. Without another thought, you hung up the video call and rushed out the door, fueled by a determination to be by Daniel's side.

As you sprinted towards where Lando had described, the worry and fear in your chest propelled you forward, your mind filled with a single thought - you needed to reach Daniel, to hold him, and to let him know that he wasn't alone in his pain.

"Lando, make sure that he stays there and share your location," you instructed, knowing that finding Daniel quickly was of utmost importance.

The urgency in your voice reflected the depth of your concern as you relied on Lando to keep an eye on him until you arrived.

"It's not like he's letting go of this lamppost any time soon," Lando joked

You couldn't help but chuckle at Lando's attempt to lighten the mood. "Well, I'll make sure to give him a little nudge if he's still holding on when I get there," you replied, grateful for the small moment of levity amidst the seriousness of the situation.

Lando chuckled and said, "Just make sure it's a gentle nudge. We don't want him falling over before you get there. I'll keep an eye on him for you, Y/N. He's in good hands."

"Also just make sure you bring some extra strength with you. I have a feeling Daniel might need it," he said, his voice laced with concern.

"I'll be there as soon as I can, Lando," you assured him, your voice filled with determination. "Thank you for watching over him. I know he's in good hands with you."

When you finally locate Daniel, you approach him cautiously. He looks disheveled and confused, unaware of the picture you received from Lando.

As soon as you got off the car and walked over to the two of them, Daniel's eyes were on you. His gaze held a mixture of relief, anticipation, and a glimmer of hope, as if he had been waiting for you to arrive and bring him the solace he desperately needed.

"Thank goodness you're here Y/N," Lando said smiling at you before giving you a hug.

"How is he?" You whispered to Lando, glancing at Daniel whose eyes were still trained on you.

"He's in bad shape," Lando whispered, his worry evident in his voice. "He's refusing to drink water, he's been vomiting, and he has a high fever. But no matter what, he won't let go of that lamppost."

Your heart sank as you took in the state Daniel was in. The sight of him clinging to the lamppost, refusing to let go despite his deteriorating health, only heightened your concern.

"I'll go try and talk to him."

"Good luck but you probably won't need it," Lando replied.

As you approached Daniel, you couldn't help but notice the hollowed look in his eyes, as if the light within him had faded. His once vibrant and charismatic demeanor was replaced by a sense of weariness and defeat.

His disheveled hair and trembling hands were clear signs of the toll this ordeal had taken on him, and it was heartbreaking to see him in such a vulnerable state.

The sight of him clinging desperately to the lamppost, his knuckles white with tension, revealed a level of desperation that struck a chord within you.

Nevertheless, you mustered up all the courage you had and gently reached out to touch his shoulder, hoping to break through the walls he had built around himself.

"Daniel, it's me Y/N, your girlfriend," you said slowly, your voice filled with love and concern.

His eyes flickered for a moment, as if trying to grasp onto a distant memory, before a glimmer of recognition appeared. "Y/N," he whispered hoarsely, his grip on the lamppost loosening slightly.

"I'm here, Daniel," you replied softly, your heart breaking at the sight of his vulnerability. "I won't leave you alone. We'll get through this together."

You placed your palm against Daniel's forehead, feeling the heat radiating from his feverish skin. Concern washed over you as you realized just how sick he was. "We need to get you to a doctor, Daniel," you said, your voice tinged with urgency.

"No doctor," he slurred, his words barely audible. "I don't want their help. Just stay with me, Y/N."

As Daniel's words trailed off, tears welled up in his eyes and cascaded down his cheeks. Each tear carried the weight of his pain and the fear of losing himself and you.

You held him tightly, offering a comforting embrace as his tears soaked into your shoulder, a silent testament to the depth of his despair.

"Daniel," you said gently, wiping away his tears with your thumb, "I understand that you're scared and don't want anyone's help. But I can't stand to see you suffer like this. The doctors can help you get better. They have the knowledge and resources to treat you. Please, let me take you to the hospital. I'll be right by your side the whole time, I promise."

Daniel looked at you with a mix of desperation and gratitude, his trembling hand reaching out to hold yours tightly. "Okay," he whispered, his voice filled with surrender, "take me to the hospital."

You nodded, grateful for Lando's support. Slowly and carefully, with Lando's help, you guided Daniel to Lando's car. As you settled into the back seats, Daniel's trembling hand still tightly holding yours, Lando started the engine and drove off towards the hospital, the weight of the situation heavy in the air.

Daniel leaned against you, his body weak and trembling. Each breath he took seemed to require immense effort, his chest rising and falling in shallow gasps.

The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on your heart as you held him close, praying for his strength to endure just a little longer until you reached the hospital.

"I'm so sorry Y/N," he whispered while taking in sharp breaths, his voice strained with pain.

"What do you mean baby?" you whispered, observing every movement Daniel made.

"I'm sorry.... for.... for not being.... good enough," Daniel stuttered, tears streaming down his face.

Your heart shattered at his words, and you squeezed his hand tighter, your voice filled with love and conviction. "Daniel, please don't say that. You are more than enough, and I love you just the way you are. We'll get through this together, I promise."

"I... love you," Daniel muttered. "Please don't leave... me."

"I love you too, Daniel," you replied, tears welling in your eyes. "I will never leave your side. We're in this together, and we will fight through it. You are not alone."

The rest of the journey was mostly silent, as you focused on keeping Daniel awake and alert, gently talking to him and urging him to stay awake. However, Daniel's exhaustion and pain were overwhelming, and he longed for the comfort of sleep.

Despite his struggle, he fought to stay awake, knowing that reaching the hospital was crucial for his survival.

As you pulled up to the hospital, Lando's prearranged call had ensured that a medical team was waiting at the entrance with a stretcher for Daniel. They quickly and efficiently transferred him onto the stretcher, their urgency matching the gravity of the situation.

You watched with a mix of relief and anxiety as they whisked Daniel away, knowing that he was now in the hands of the medical professionals who could provide him with the immediate care he needed.

You and Lando waited in the waiting room, your legs bouncing against the floor in a nervous rhythm. The minutes felt like hours as you anxiously scanned the hallway for any sign of the medical team returning with updates on Daniel's condition. The weight of uncertainty hung heavy in the air, and all you could do was hope and pray for positive news.

"I couldn't help but listen in your conversation in the car," Lando started. "Did something happen before today?"

You took a deep breath, your voice trembling slightly as you replied, "Yes, Daniel and I have been going through a difficult time lately."

"Excuse me, were you the ones who brought Mr. Ricciardo?" the doctor asked, looking at you and Lando. Your heart raced as you nodded, eager for any updates on Daniel's condition.

"Yes, we brought him," you replied anxiously. "How is he? Is he going to be okay?" The doctor's face softened as they looked at you both with empathy. "We're doing everything we can for Mr. Ricciardo. He's stable for now, but we need to run some tests and monitor him closely. It's too early to say anything definitive, but we're hopeful."

"Can we at least see him?" Lando asked on your behalf, his voice filled with concern. The doctor nodded sympathetically, understanding your need to be by Daniel's side during this critical time.

"Yes, you can see him, but please keep in mind that he needs rest and quiet. Follow me."

As you followed the doctor down the hallway, a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts raced through your mind. Fear, hope, and a desperate longing to see Daniel battled within you, creating a tumultuous storm of anticipation.

You clung to the doctor's words of hope, praying that they would ring true and that Daniel would pull through this ordeal.

As you entered Daniel's hospital room, you were taken aback by his appearance. His usually vibrant and energetic demeanor had been replaced by a pale and weakened figure lying motionless on the bed.

The sight of him hooked up to machines and monitors sent a pang of sadness and worry through your heart. Tubes and wires were connected to his body, a stark reminder of the severity of his condition.

Despite the sterile and clinical environment, the room was filled with an overwhelming sense of vulnerability and fragility.

The beeping of the machines provided a haunting soundtrack to the room, punctuating the silence that hung heavily in the air. Daniel's closed eyes gave no indication of his awareness of your presence, and you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of helplessness.

"I'll leave you to it." The doctor muttered, closing the door and leaving you and Lando in the room.

The atmosphere in the room was heavy with a mix of sorrow and uncertainty. As you stood there, surrounded by the beeping machines and the stillness of Daniel's presence, the weight of the situation sank deep into your being.

It was a somber reminder of the fragility of life and the powerlessness you felt in the face of it all.

You sat down beside Daniel, gently taking his hand in yours. The touch of his cold skin sent a shiver down your spine, a stark contrast to the warmth and vitality he once exuded. As you sat there, you couldn't help but silently will him to fight, to overcome whatever obstacles lay ahead.

"This is all my fault," you muttered, silently crying onto Daniel's hand, overwhelmed by guilt and regret. You couldn't help but blame yourself for the situation, questioning every decision and action that led to this moment.

The weight of guilt and regret pressed heavily upon you as you sat beside Daniel, crying silently onto his hand. Every decision and action leading up to this moment played on a loop in your mind, tormenting you with thoughts of self-blame and what-ifs.

The emotions were overwhelming, and you couldn't help but wonder if you could have done something differently to prevent this.

"It's not your fault," Daniel strained, his voice weak but filled with reassurance. You quickly looked up, astonishment and relief flooding your eyes as you saw him awake.

"I'll leave it up to you guys," Lando said as he left the room and left you both having no chance to hear him as he left.

"Does it hurt?" you muttered.

"No but it hurts that you're crying," Daniel muttered, slowly raising his hand to wipe your tears, "It's not your fault,"

"I shouldn't have left like that, I distracted you before your race and now this," you said, your voice filled with remorse and self-blame. Daniel's weak smile broke through the heaviness in the room as he gently squeezed your hand.

"Don't blame yourself," he whispered, his words carrying a sense of forgiveness and understanding.

"I shouldn't have treated you like that for you to leave the house," Daniel stated, his voice filled with sincerity. "I promise to focus more on our relationship and prioritize our happiness above all else."

"You don't have to," you muttered.

"But I will, I promise."

"You know," Daniel began, his voice growing stronger, "I've had a lot of time to think while I was lying here. And I realized that life is too short for us to hold onto regrets and blame ourselves for things that are out of our control. We can't change the past, but we can choose how we move forward from here."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they were tears of gratitude and hope. "You're right," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of relief and determination.

"Can you get in here with me? I miss having you beside me when I sleep," Daniel muttered, his voice filled with longing and vulnerability.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was appropriate, but ultimately decided to climb into the hospital bed and snuggle up beside him, finding comfort in the warmth of his embrace.

"Are you comfortable?" you whispered, laying against Daniel's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

"More than ever," he replied, wrapping his arms around you tightly, as if never wanting to let go.

As you kept quiet, tracing Daniel's tattoos slowly, you marveled at the stories they told, each inked line representing a moment in his life. It was a silent act of love and connection, a way for you to understand him on a deeper level without words.

This was how most of your nights would end, with you tracing over Daniel's tattoos while he tenderly kissed the top of your head and rubbed your back. It was a comforting routine that brought you both a sense of peace and intimacy, allowing you to express your love for each other without the need for words.

In those quiet moments, you felt a deep connection and understood that the stories etched on his skin were a part of him, just as you were a part of each other's lives.

"Will you come to live with me again?" Daniel muttered against the top of your head, his words filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and felt a surge of love and longing.

"Daniel," you whispered, your voice filled with uncertainty. As you looked into his eyes, you could see the sincerity and desperation in his gaze.

A part of you wanted to believe him, to give him one more chance, but another part of you was hesitant, unsure if things could truly be different this time.

Daniel begged desperately, "Please, give me one chance and I promise that I will be more committed to our relationship if given the chance."

Taking a deep breath, you let the love you still felt for Daniel override your doubts. "Yes," you whispered, a mix of hope and caution in your voice. "I'll give us one more chance, but we have to take it slow and work on rebuilding trust."

Daniel grinned, "That's all I need," he said, his eyes filled with gratitude and determination. "I promise you won't regret this. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right between us."

Your heart fluttered as Daniel's hand tightened around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Goosebumps erupted across your skin with every touch, igniting a fire within you that only he could ignite. The electricity between you is palpable, and you can't help but melt into his embrace.

As your lips met, a wave of familiarity and passion washed over you. The taste of his kiss was like coming home, a sweet and addictive blend of warmth and tenderness. In that moment, all doubts and uncertainties melted away, replaced by a renewed sense of hope and desire.

The world around you faded into the background as you lost yourself in the intoxicating dance of his lips against yours, each kiss deepening the connection between your souls.

Time stood still as you surrendered to the magnetic pull of his embrace, savoring every stolen breath and gentle caress. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a silent promise of a love that had weathered storms and emerged stronger than ever.

You gently tug at his collar, out of breath, and as Daniel asks, "Do you want me to stop?"

Also out of breath, and with a mischievous smile, you whisper, "Just the opposite, please. Don't stop."

Your words are filled with a mix of vulnerability and desire, a silent plea for him to continue. With a knowing smile, Daniel leans in closer, his touch becoming even more electrifying, as the intensity between you grows with each passing moment.

"God, I missed this," Daniel muttered against your lips, his voice filled with longing and a tinge of regret. The weight of his words hung in the air, reminding you of the time lost and the journey ahead.

But in that moment, all that mattered was the fire that burned between you, igniting a passion that refused to be extinguished. . . .

[zelcii]

do u right for luke castellan? if u do can u write some fluff for himmm? thank u, love ur writing

why | luke castellan

“if you want to stay as the counsellor of your cabin, you’re going to have to work harder,” mr. d said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

“i’m sorry,” you deadpanned, frustration creeping into your voice. “what?”

chiron rolled his eyes at dionysus. “it’s nothing personal,” he replied dismissively. “we appreciate your efforts—”

“we just know that you can do better,” mr. d interrupted.

luke stood just outside the door, waiting for you, when he overheard the conversation. he didn’t think much of it, except for how wrong both chiron and mr. d were.

what surprised him the most was the meek, tired “yes, sir,” that slipped from your lips on the other side of the door.

as your boyfriend, luke has had the opportunity to watch you up close as you hustle through camp, over-organising activities, making sure every camper is accounted for. you’re always on the move, practically running the place, and sometimes he wonders if you ever take a minute to breathe. your dedication is impressive, no doubt, but it hurts him to see you wear yourself down with every unnecessary list, every forced smile you give chiron, and each desperate attempt to hold everything together on your own.

today is no different, of course. the kids are out exploring, their laughter echoing in the distance, while you sit at one of the empty tables with a can of soda, sluggishly jotting down yet another mundane task for the afternoon.

“hey, camper,” you say, barely looking up from your notebook as you take a sip of your strawberry soda.

“come,” he says, but it’s not really a question.

“what?” you glance up, surprise flickering in your eyes as he gently places a hand on your arm, urging you to stand.

“you heard me.” with one hand, he closes your notebook and tucks it under his arm, then grabs your can of soda and takes a sip.

“but—the kids?” you protest, frowning.

“eh. they won’t miss you.” he flashes you a grin, and with a stifled chuckle escaping you, the two of you make your way over to the empty dock, settling down with your legs dangling over the edge.

“how are you?” luke questions, you watch the way his slim waist slumps as he stretched his hands out behind him. “and i mean really.”

“good. haven’t gotten the chance to talk to you in a while though,” you smile, watching your reflection in the water beneath you.

“why?” the boy asked. you paused. there was a look in your eye as you went over your answer, a look that luke would never forget. you never thought of why exactly you’ve been busy all summer. probably because the answer seemed obvious to you.

“i’m working, luke?” you say, though you sound unsure. “why do you ask?”

the wood is warm beneath you as you stare out into the lake. you could see a group of campers staggered around the edges of the lake, a few taking a moment to dip into the coolness of the water. luke was leaned back on his hands, a lazy smile on his face as he watches the way your lips curl up at the sight of your kids.

“mr. d wasn’t the best this morning during senior council…” luke started, carefully watching the way your face twisted for your reaction. “i don’t know, i guess i get surprised when you let things like that slide.”

“what’s this?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you turn to look at him. he looks almost unreal in the warm light of the setting sun, the golden rays casting a soft glow on the side of his face, making his eyes seem to shine just for you. he was a demigod for sure.

“an intervention,” he jokes, a hint of mischief in his tone. 

you roll your eyes, but he doesn’t miss how the sunlight catches in your hair, turning it a soft gold. it’s a moment, a second of reluctance that tells him to think twice before he continues this conversation with you.

“look,” he says, his tone shifting slightly. he sat up straighter, his eyes never leaving yours, “i’ve noticed you’ve been working your ass off lately; more than most of us. so why’d you just take that shit from mr. d?”

for a minute, all you could do was stare at him, and all he could do was stare at you. he took note of how the meat on your bones seemed to lessen over the course of the summer, how your tired eyes sunk into your rosy cheeks, and how your lips glossed over with the same lip gloss you had since the sixth grade.

“i know… what it sounds like—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“do you even like being a counsellor?”

“of course, i do,” you say with no hesitation, your eyes hardening as you sounded slightly offended.

his expression softens, concern flickering across his face. “look, baby, i know it’s none of my business how you choose to waste your time, but you barely even sleep anymore.”

you take so much shit from chiron and mr. d and you never even once go against their orders, we haven’t had time alone since before summer, and you give so much of your time to people who don’t deserve it… i know that nobody asked you this before,” 

“but do you ever wonder why?”

the question hangs between you, and for a moment, you’re silent, caught off guard by the honesty in his voice. you look down at your hands, playing with the edges of your shorts. “why what?” you knew ‘why what.’

“why are you like this?” he prompts, holding eye contact.

“because…” you sigh, searching for the right words. “i don’t know… but chiron—”

“forget chiron,” he replies softly as he takes your hand in his. “you’re his best counsellor. he was probably just messing with you, sweetheart.”

you meet his gaze, and for the first time, you realise how much weight you’ve been holding. you sigh, looking at him; his eyes never leave yours. 

“maybe you’re right,” you say slowly.

“of course, i’m right,” he scoffs, a smirk creeping onto his face, but the warmth in his eyes makes you want to kiss the smug look right off of it.

“big talk for a hermes, castellan,” you challenge, leaning in closer with a playful grin.

luke smirks, quick to respond. “that’s not the only big thing, baby.”

you can’t help but laugh, the sound ringing out like music in the morning air. it’s the hardest you’ve laughed since before summer camp, and in that moment, you realised just how much you’ve missed this.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Regret

Pairing: DarkTom Riddle x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Lying is a flaw that Tom doesn’t appreciate.

WARNINGS: Toxic relationship.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

Dedicating this to @insectgf cause she's Tom's no.1 fan 😋

--

You nervously wring your hands as you peer around, eyes searching for movement near the dimly lit dungeon entrance.

The way to the Slytherin Common Room.

You've been waiting for just over half an hour, anxiety building up and infesting your thoughts while you hold vigil in hopes of finding Tom.

You should have never behaved like that. An act of pure stupidity and recklessness, that’s what it was.

Going to Hogsmeade in the company of a few girls of your dorm.

It was a rare occasion, something you never did before, and you had only relented after much begging and convincing from the girls. A dumb decision – one that led to a dreadful aftermath.

You should’ve known better. All of your joyful chatter and laughter at The Three Broomsticks immediately ceasing once you spotted the distinct lean figure of Tom seated in a distant table, surrounded by his friends, his brown-eyes fixed on you.

No surprise or shock in his gaze, only cold anger irradiating from his handsome features.

Something almost comprehensible given how you had explicitly told him you’d be spending all afternoon in your dorm, offering the poor excuse of a headache.  

And now here you are. Scared, shaking like a leaf, waiting for the chance to apologize and beg for forgiveness.  

You're so pathetic.

The time drags by, and you lose track, feeling as if you’ve been waiting for an eternity. But your efforts pay off when the door opens, revealing Tom.

Your heart leaps at the sight and fear clouds your mind when he offers you nothing but a quick murderous scowl that immediately turns into one of composed indifference before walking away past you, barely acknowledging your presence.

You gulp, hurrying after him as he walks with long strides through the empty corridors.

“Tom?”

“Tom…please.”

The boy ignores your numerous calls, but you keep your hasty pace even when it has you short breathed as Tom quickly charges through the stairways and halls.

“Tom, just listen to me.”

“And why should I listen to anything you spew out of that filthy mouth of yours?" his snarl scares you as he suddenly turns. "It appears that lies and deception is all I can expect from you.”

You wince, barely opening your lips before Tom walks away, choosing to stare blankly at a wall.

The confusion in your mind dissipates as a large door materializes on the door and only then you realize that you’ve reached the 7th floor.

The Room of Requirement.

You hesitate for a moment but proceed to follow Tom as he opens the door with a loud bang. Your existence remains ignored and you take a few small steps inside the room, unsure of how to bring Tom’s attention.

“Tom?”

For a moment, the possibility of Tom disregarding you again was present, and you fearfully awaited as the seconds went by without a proper reaction from Tom.

He inhaled sharply, fingers tightening before he relaxed.

But when he finally turned to face you, you almost wished he hadn’t.

The venom that darkened his face had your heart faltering, his eyes narrowing into thin slits that held nothing but anger and frustration. He almost looked like a snake.

You felt yourself turning smaller at the sight, suddenly unsure of how to speak.

“I-“

“Trust is a rather curious thing.” he says with his voice oddly serene, “An invisible yet very powerful bond, one that defines the nature of one’s relationship. That’s how I perceive it.”

“So, tell me. How many times?”

You look at him, confused.

“Tom-“

“How many times did you break my trust?” he repeats himself, brows contorting with annoyance, “How many times did you sneak behind my back to meet up with those filthy mudbloods?”

“I- Only this time.” you tearfully admit, lowering your gaze to the floor as Tom angrily hisses something in that strange snake language of his. “I swear, Tom. I-I’m so sorry.”

“Just this once? And why should I believe your unreliable words? You seem to be very determined in breaking my trust, so tell me why should I consider any of what you say to be true?”

Your lips shake when you bring yourself to look at Tom, tears burning in your eyes.

“But, …” a minuscule sob cuts you off, much to Tom’s irritation, “it is true. It was only this once, Tom, I swear on my life! I never lied to you before, I promise.”

“I’m so sorry, Tom, I really am!”

The intent with which he examines your pitiful face sets you on edge, heart plummeting against your ribs as you don’t dare to say a word.

“Prove it.”

“Prove wha-“

“Prove me that you won’t repeat this act of disloyalty. Assure me how sorry you are.” the way his eyes glint with a new cruel motivation has a shudder running down your body, aware that nothing good will come out of his proposition.

“Perform the Cruciatus Curse. On yourself.” his lips curl at your bewilderment, clearly enjoying taunting you.

This time, the tears overflow and slide down on your face pitifully and you look at Tom, silently begging him with your eyes.

But there’s no empathy in his face. Only a vile purpose.

“Go on, do it.” he takes a step forward, his tone borderline threatening despite how lightly he speaks. “You can either punish yourself or I’ll do it for you.”

“Because I assure you that in the end, you will suffer.”

[ppumeonae-bigvibe]

cherry on top

↖ navigation: seventeen masterlist || main masterlist

pairing: bf! seventeen ot13 x gn! reader

↬ tags: established relationship? yes!, kissing mentioned (hehe!), quite wholesome, my list my rules!, reader uses lipsticks (not implied, but a regular user of lipsticks/ tints/ gloss)

summary: seventeen buying reader lipstick!

𐙚 those who know which color suits you, even your favorite types 𐙚

ᯓ★ seungcheol, jeonghan, mingyu, myungho

the sister-havers are understandable: they have sisters for siblings so they would know a thing or two (before you jump at me, yes i do know vernon and seungkwan have sisters so hear me out); and whereas for minghao? i'm so sure my man is born a fashionista so makeup would be easy for him; and for seungcheol i think that clip of him explaining the different perfumes/ cologne is enough for me to put him here

you don't have to tell them: they would be able to pick a similar or the exact shade right off the bat just by looking at your lips; call it unexplained hidden knack or that special eye for choosing makeup products

purposely (sneakily) grabs you by the chin to kiss you full on the lips just to see how good the product works; love love loves to watch you put on makeup and would gaze at you as you went about your business

bonus if they know color theory, or suggest different shades they think might look good on you (and i'm certain it will)

"you like it?" you swiped a sheen layer of gloss on your lips, before turning to your smitten boyfriend for approval. he does a once over, smile widening at the sight of you. he pulls you in by the waist lovingly, "i like that very much. now, give me a kiss!"

"no! you're gonna ruin it!" he rolls his eyes, "i'll buy you another." he knows you couldn't resist, so before you open your mouth to retort, he yanks you towards him and captures your lips. "i'll buy you as many as you want, so long you keep letting me do this."

----

𐙚 those who has some clue and tries to buy something you like 𐙚

ᯓ★ joshua, soonyoung, jihoon, vernon, seungkwan

i know vernon has a younger sister and kwanie has sisters, but hear me out: i don't think they are that interested in makeup products at all hence they are here; for joshua because he is such a gentleman he would take pictures of your lipsticks to know which ones to get, similar for hosh and wooz i think they would make sure you're physically with them so they don't get the wrong ones

because they aren't sure of the exact type/ shade/ tint, he would make the effort to know your favorite brands and colors at least so that he could go get them when he goes out shopping for your gifts <3 !! he wants to surprise you too, and might throw in other skincare products they are more confident in getting

call it algorithm influencing, but he sometimes sees the targeted ads on your phone and makes a mental note to ask you about it

very much prefers you in your natural state, but loves it when you doll up for them/ yourself because you are beautiful in their eyes (have you seen them barefaced wts!!)

"you like this one?" he leans over, his taller frame standing out painfully in the makeup section. you nod your head, "yeah? looks good doesn't it?" you swatch another color on the back of his hands and he observes closely, "this one has sparkles in it, but it's a lot more lighter than the other other one."

"i can't decide which one to get though." you frowned the back of his hands are littered with various shades, matching yours. he shakes his head, sporting a silly grin, "it's okay! we can browse longer. let's get something you really like."

----

𐙚 those who don't know, but buys something anyways 𐙚:

ᯓ★ junhwi, wonwoo, seokmin, chan

dedicated to the brother-havers and single children: i feel that these bunch of people are the group of people who don't know much about makeup and are perhaps less interested in it as you are; might even be clueless about it

they seem like the type to ask many questions about why some products are matte or glossy or why are they so liquid-y or why has there got to be many shades (in the sweetest and non-annoying way)

very green forest behavior when they know not to mess with your makeup products and to keep them stored away neatly

call it algorithm influencing, but when he spots some makeup brand promoting items, he'd come and ask for your opinion (so that he could take you out and buy it for you uwu)

unexpectedly i think somewhat related to makeup, wonwoo or dino feels like the type to enjoy doing facials with you

"i'm not sure if you like this, but i overheard you telling your friends you were running out. thought this might make your day." his heart was beating out of his chest, but he plays it cool by gifting you a small bag. you excitedly take it from him, and he relishes in the way your eyes practically light up. looks like he bought the right one.

"oh baby, thank you!" you hug him tight and he reciprocates the gesture, an affectionate beam all over his face. "it's the one i told you about! no way! you got it!" he exhales dramatically, "anything for you my love."

@ppumeonae-bigvibe 's work ; likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

[pokado8]

☆彡 Absolute green flags

༄ starring: K. Kozume , and B. Kotaro

༄ cw: gn reader

| K. KOZUME — PUTTING IN THE EFFORT

“Can you come over, please? It's fine if you're too busy”

“Yeah, I'll be there in 20 minutes”.

Staring at your phone, you turned it off and fell back onto your bed with a huff. College was kicking your ass. So much so that you almost felt like dropping out. The only person that was helping you through it was Kenma. He did things for you that he would be able to do without you saying anything. Sometimes you feel like he knows you better than you know yourself. Recently you’ve been pretty stressed about your upcoming exam. You barely understood the material so you didn't exactly know what to study for, your parents had been nagging you about your grades, and it felt like your professor had it out for you with how many questions she asked.

It was all so draining and you couldn't catch a break. All of your time was dedicated to looking things up and trying to start studying somewhere. Kenma didn’t have a clue about what was going on because you thought that he would be too busy to listen and you didn't want to bother him because of how he told you earlier that week, his subordinates were starting to get on his nerves because of how they always leave things up to him, thus making him work harder and longer. So you just stayed quiet.

While walking to your apartment complex he realized that he probably should've brought a coat as it was the beginning of fall. He silently cursed the world for making this year's fall so cold while he started walking faster to get to you. Once he got to your apartment he put in the key you gave him inside the hole and made it inside. When he got in, his body felt a rush of warm air that helped heat his body from the cold atmosphere outside. Something he greatly appreciated. Sighing in satisfaction, he took his shoes off at the door and walked towards your room down the hall where he saw you under your comforter and the light emitting from your TV.

“Hi ken” you began, hearing him come in just a second ago. “ I missed you”. The first thing Kenma took notice of was your expression. You looked stressed; overwhelmed even, and it seemed like you had been up all night judging from the scattered papers on your desk. “I missed you too,” he said as he made his way over to you.

Raising your comforter and scooting over a bit to make room for him, you silently signaled him to get in. Understanding what you meant he got in while making himself comfortable as he rested his hands on your waist. All was silent. Nothing was said as you both basked in each other's presence. Pulling you closer to him, kenma opens his mouth as he prepares to say something. “I got your text, do you want to talk about it?”. You didn't know if you did because you didn't want all those frustrations building back up and you didn't want to focus on them either, but on the other hand, you knew that opening up would probably make you feel better so that's what you did.

You told him about everything that had been happening at school and with your parents and how it's just too much. He was shocked. “Why didn't you tell me?” he asked incredulously. You were nervous to answer but ultimately did, so to save yourself from embarrassment, you hid your face in his chest. “You were busy and you were upset because of your co-workers so I didn't want to bother you”. When you got done talking, he just looked at you with sadness and (if you looked closely) a hint of guilt.

Kenma never had much luck at comforting people so he just went with his gut. But he would always try his damn near hardest for you if it meant it would cheer you up. The thing is, you both had this routine where you both did each other’s skincare. He didnt really like it all too much mainly because some of the products would kinda burn and because it took so long. But he knew how much you liked these spa days and he knew how much you love spending time with him, so he relented.

Kenma gets up and walks towards the bathroom outside your room. He rummages through your cabinets and you can hear products clacking against each other as he looks for what he needs. What is he doing? You thought. All you see is the bright light from the bathroom, lighting the dark hallway. After a couple of minutes go by, Kenma comes back and turns on your bedside lamp making you scrunch your nose and squint your eyes from the sudden light.

What are you doing? you ask him. He says nothing while opening and closing his hand, silently asking you to take it, and you do. With a small smile on his face, he leads you to your bathroom, and then you see what he’s doing. On your counter and the side of the tub sat your different arrays of skincare products. “Remember our skincare routine?” he grins “I thought that doing it would help make you feel a little better,” he tells you while averting his eyes to the very interesting-looking tile on the floor.

“Thank you ken, I appreciate it,” you say while moving forward to hug him. You knew that Kenma wasn't a fan of your skincare nights, but it made your heart skip a beat knowing that despite his dislike for it he still did it for you.

| B. KOTARO — TRUSTING YOU

You knew that Bokuto was a pretty social person, and although some might see this as a problem you didn't. That's just how he was and you never tried to keep him all to yourself because you just weren't like that. While there were times when you were a little weary about a certain person getting too handsy with him, you made sure to communicate your feelings so they didn't get in the way of your relationship.

The sun was already starting to set and Bokuto was helping his teammates put everything back in their place before they left. Before that day, Bokuto told everyone to give it their all before they went up against Karasuno so he proposed the idea of practicing. The day went by quickly and fortunately, it was time for everyone to leave as they were just about done with Bokuto’s antics, especially Akaashi. “Y’know Akaashi, I was thinking about a new maneuver we could do to crush Karasuno when we go up against them,” Bokuto said as Akaashi and him walked out of the gym doors. The air was crisp and there was a slight breeze in the wind. Akaashi felt a little more rejuvenated as he felt the calm breeze dance across his face.“Yeah, I think you should just stick to what you're already doing” Akaashi muttered. “Hey come on, don't give me that! It's good to switch things up once in a while” he yelled, pointing to Akaashi accusingly, because for some reason the setter didn't understand his point of view. Meanwhile akaashi paid him no mind as he just kept walking. Poor boy just wanted to get home. After a little back and forth between the two, they eventually bid each other farewell.

After he said goodbye to Akaashi, Bokuto was on his way to the front of Fukurodani to see you so the both of you could walk home together. He was very grateful that your extracurriculars were let out at the same time as him, that way he could see you before he went home. Once the front of the school was in his sight, his golden eyes immediately searched for your figure, and once he saw you he started to jog towards you before slowing down after seeing another person with you. A guy. But not just any guy, the school player. Issei Takahashi. Now Bokuto didn't have anything against the guy but he knew that he would flirt with any girl he saw and had just got out of his 6th relationship that month. Yeah, he was counting so what? No harm done right? Bokuto knew that he knew that you were in an established relationship, but for some reason that didn't stop Issei from turning you into his next target.

Before you start jumping to conclusions, no Bokuto Kotaro was not jealous. Him? Jealous? No way. Never. Bokuto trusted you. He knew that you wouldn't cheat on him. So he shoved those thoughts into the back of his mind and strode towards you. “Hey babe, did ya miss me?” he beamed as he intertwined his hands with yours. “I always do Bo,” you said while smiling at him. “Hey Bo you know Issei Takahashi, right? He's in your English class” “Hey, man. Bokuto right?” Issei asked. Bokuto decided to just act normal that way you didn't see how he was a little bothered by him. “Yeah, nice to meet you, dude,” he spoke. “Issei and I were just going over the project in art class and we decided it was best to do a video instead of writing everything down” you explained while twirling his fingers within your grasp. “we're gonna go to the art room for supplies tomorrow so we're gonna be together kind of the whole day,” Issei had a smug smirk on his face, feeling so proud and of himself and so confident.

Issei didn’t care if you and Bokuto were together in a relationship he just knew he could take you away from him. Bokuto knew what he was doing and his smile faltered for a split second before smiling again. “ Well I'm sure you guys are gonna do great,” he spoke. He knew there was no point in getting angry or jealous because, at the end of the day, you were the one walking home with him. So he let it go. After a while, you decided to cut the conversation with Issei short. “Well issei, I'll see you tomorrow. Good night!” you waved at Issei and walked away from the school with Bokuto.

Halfway through your walk to your house, bokuto spoke up. “Hey [name]” “Yeah?” “ Promise me you won't leave me for someone like him okay?” laughing at his sudden choice of words, you squeezed his hand. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Bo”

a/n: whew! That took me wayyyy too long to finish. My writers block was off the hook 😭

reblogs are appreciated!

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

Don't read this. You've been warned.

SO THIS IS WHAT MOTHERFUCKING HAPPENS WHEN YOU FUCKING DEPRIVE THE FEMALE LEAD OF SCREENTIME OVER THIS NEW COMPLETELY FUCKING UNNECESSARY CHARACTER LIKE THIS MPDG

Full article in the RB notes

AFTER THIS:

IF YOU WANTED TO SHOW US WHAT HIS PERSONAL LIFE LOOKED LIKE THE RELATIONSHIP HE NEEDED TO FUCKING ATTEMPT WAS NOT OUTSIDE WORK!!! FUCK YOU, ALL! YOU TOO, CALO!

HACKS'LOVE STORY IS PERFECTLY WRITTEN AND THE FANS ARE NEVER GASLIGHTED, THEIR INTELLIGENCE IS NOT INSULTED ON A PERMANENT BASIS. THEY ARE NOT SPOONFED EITHER, THE BALANCE EXISTS AND YOU COULDN'T FUCKING WRITE IT, YOU WENT FOR THE FUCKING CLICHÉ INSTEAD:

AND THEN THIS HAPPENED:

And don't get me wrong, I ADORE JEAN, I LOVE HACKS and I even have a blog exclusively dedicated to that show I am a fan of, so having watched all 3 seasons and believing in it from day 1, IK exactly what I'm talking about. Lucia is nailing the love story because she has the ovaries to tell it, and doesn't use her writing, direction, and executive production efforts to gaslight those who tune in to see how Deborah & Ava's love story unfold. She even writes other characters who play love interests for both but does not string that along, it has a beginning a middle, and an end because she ALWAYS SUPPORTS THE ENDGAME COUPLE NARRATIVE, SHE DOESN'T TRY TO PUSH ANOTHER BECAUSE SHE KNOWS WHY THE AUDIENCE TUNES IN AND RESPECTS THAT.

And I don't think that at this point I have to make a stronger case about how much I fucking worship Sydney Adamu and will always defend her, but hey! being truthful, objective, and realistic is MY way of protecting her. Unpopular opinion? Maybe. Do I give a fuck? HAHAAAAAAAAAA GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK!

So, Deborah's character is a lot more complex than Sydney's.

Deborah re-discovers her sexuality and re-defines herself as she falls in love with a subordinate and rebuilds her career after everyone left her for dead in the dust of it, and turns a cancelation around at the age of 100 years old in a world that is no longer the world she knew and made her bitch, which made her filthy rich but also cost her EVERYTHING.

Sydney, on the other hand, is this nuanced character, with a dead mom we know NOTHING ABOUT, a potentially recovered alcoholic father we know nothing about either, a past we know almost nothing about, a love life and sexuality we can guess but WE KNOW NOTHING ABOUT EITHER, with a "platonic romance with a white boy who gave her his life long dream and heart on a fucking plate" THAT NO ONE WANTS TO FUCKING EXPLORE BECAUSE THEY TRY TO SHOVE THIS MPDG WHITE GIRL CHARACTER DOWN OUR FUCKING THROATS and a bunch of other motherfucking layers that remain completely unwritten and off-screen. No screen time whatsoever for character development in S2 for Sydney, BUT THIS ONE? I EVEN HAD TO PUT UP WITH HER MOTHERFUCKING ASS!!!

So summing up: This award was taken from Ayo, not won by Jean, because Jean had a whole team having her back, Ayo was RELEGATED BY HER OWN TEAM TO PRIORITIZE A FUCKING MPDG UNNECESSARY WHITE CHARACTER, AND IF I COULD FUCKING SUE THE RESPONSIBLE ONES, FOR THIS, I 10000% WOULD.

FUCK YOU, ALL AT DISNEY WHO LET THIS HAPPEN AND DON'T EVEN GET ME FUCKING STARTED ON S3, THE NEXT AWARD SEASON WILL BE EVEN WORSE BECAUSE WE HAVE BEEN LOUD AND CLEAR FOR 2 FUCKING YEARS NOW, BUT STORER AND APPARENTLY DISNEY DON'T FUCKING LISTEN AND THEN THIS HAPPENS:

[yaoiri]

Piers x You/Reader Headcanons

—“🐼 Piers is confrontational and blunt to others because he holds high but achievable standards for everyone around him. Although, he’s unfair to himself because he’s his own worst critic when it comes to his passions and profession. Seeing this, you take time to validate his concerns and give support to his ideas. Now, he doesn’t furrow his eyes as much as he used to.

—“🎙️ Piers briefly mentions in passing conversation that he used to be in an underground band before they broke up due to conflicting aspirations. You ask him to elaborate and he tells you that the more they performed, the more Piers couldn’t help but worry about his hometown and whoever will run the Spikemuth Gym in his absence since Marnie was still young. He went to pursue being a Gym Leader while his bandmates either joined different bands, studied towards a college degree, or became blue-collar workers.

You ask him about the band name and, while he keeps the name they settled on as something to mention another time, he tells you that he jokingly suggested “Piers the Veil”. Now, whenever one of his old bandmates recognizes him he gets called “Piers Fuentes”.

—“💿 On special nights, you spend time with Marnie because her fans and her well-known brother make it hard for her to form relationships that aren’t superficial. You help Marnie work through her anger whenever someone tries to really press her buttons, and not to be so emotionally dictated by Morpeko. Although, you do recognize her best friend’s efforts to redirect her emotions.

—“🎶 You and Piers attend basement performances and small venues to see and support local punk bands. In turn, he comes with you to concerts for your favorite artists. He abhors being recognized in public (specifically in tight spaces) and suddenly being in a camera’s view, but pushes aside his worries for you.

—“🐼 When Piers wakes up, he gets bad bed head and needs to take an hour to tame his hair. Marnie jokes that Piers takes more time in the bathroom than any other girl she’s known. He asks for assistance (sometimes begrudgingly) to untangle gnarly hair knots if he sleeps in late over the weekends.

—“🎙️ When you first met Piers’ Pokémon, they weren’t as friendly as you’d like them to. However, you suspected it was because they reflected Piers’ gloomy demeanor until they finally began warming up to you.

—“💿 You live together in an apartment with separate rooms. You walk past the hall and Piers’ door is open enough where you can see a glimpse of him practicing on his bed. He sings softly and you listen close with your head against the doorframe and eye peering through the crack. The lyrics are about how he doesn’t see a world without you, and he’s scared of being a part of anything else that doesn’t tether him to Earth like you.

—“🎶 Piers has a successful solo music career after he gave Marnie the Spikemuth Gym, and he dedicates an EP about you but doesn’t mention it until you hear him play one of the songs when he asks you to help him practice for a gig. They were at a rooftop venue overlooking an ocean, and he proposes to you when he finishes the set while the sky is tinted with purple and orange.

[aqours]

ok i REAAAAAALLY need to make a dedicated sideblog for this shit now i realize bc this game is gonna fucking fully get me dragged into this discourse so i'm gonna make an active effort to stop putting these on main, but i can't see myself saying more beyond this in general but ANYWAAAAYS

so i recently made this post about the cognitive dissonance regarding this game and people using fucking CALL OF DUTY a game that is more or less a recruitment drive to make the US military look cool and try to get kids to join up and that GTA's wanted system is actually NOT rewarding you or something to try to play a dick measuring contest with coffin but this interaction really interested me and i wanna talk about it bc i just blocked them after they refused to answer the last question but this is a very specific kind of gaslighting tactic i'm very familiar with from my own days as an anti

i think p much all of us who are used to engaging with this discourse are used to like y'know, being called awful horrible disgusting things. this is not the first time some fucking weird random person came onto my content asking me if i was a kid didler or wanted to fuck my brother. ain't gonna be anywhere near the last time either folks, but i and Lord God knows that's not the case so i don't care what a rando on the internet says but here's the thing: you can't "win" this, but they want to win it. no matter what you say you are the absolute worst kind of dreg of society that should be shot behind a barn and no amount of anything would work. if i actually pulled a list of sourced all that would have happened was they would've doubled down on calling me an inc*s*ious p*d* that I would be willing to use articles probably written by "people like me." because YOU don't care about "winning" this argument, you just wanna get the facts out on your end. it's a catch-22 folks, nothing you say will get you out of it!

i started by calling them a karen, they immediately escalated the living FUCK out of it and tried to trap me in this catch-22 to keep feeling morally superior to me. me saying i don't have such desires and never will isn't enough because i like this game. nothing but me renouncing it will change it.

but here's the thing about antis- they fucking HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE it when you turn it on them. look at the difference. look at the difference between they were the one throwing the catch-22 at me vs. the other way around. what about you? you just came onto my post to harass me, so i'll say it back. how about you? are you just accusing me of these horrible things because you are projecting your thoughts on me? you told me to get a therapist: so maybe you're the one that needs help if so!

violent video games must encourage violence, riiiiight? and you support it because it's violent. Game of Thrones had in*e*t in it so everyone who likes it also is the same. and Demon Slayer, where the pfp is from is violent, so you support it. the main protag's little sister also gets a superpowered form where she gets physically older and a tits out kinda look. so clearly YOU want to see your sister in the same way, right?

and it went as expected. you can see the tone going from smug jerking off with a shit-eating grin to just annoyed while smelling their own farts like it's a rose. and the moment i started doing the same uh i got NO fucking answers and they stormed off. i waited half an hour for a response before blocking them

so why am i typing up this walltext? because i used to be an anti. i fucking guarantee you i would've called everyone who liked this game [insert horrible things] like 7-9 years ago. so let me tell you, you know what pisses off antis more than anything? more than ANYTHING? turning this catch-22 bullshit on them. this is the only way you can end this miserable conversation without blocking them.

it's all one-sided bullshit and the moment you turn it on an anti it IMMEDIATLY shuts it down. this fucker KNEW the answer and you know it. so i wanted to share that, if you ever struggle with this shit: well the best thing you can do is block them and to give a fuck about winning their imaginary argument, but this is the only way to make the headache end otherwise. just throw the catch-22 right back and that's the end. thanks for reading!

[cool-fancier]

Fading Echoes of Love

Synopsis: Bada continually let you down with broken promises, lies, and uncertain behaviour. You approached her, telling her that you were hurt and that you needed genuine change. Bada tried to change a little, but your scars remained. You gave her a chance after she expressed regret and commitment.

You had been let down by Bada in lots of ways before. It was a pattern of habits that over time was wearing down your patience and trust; it wasn't just one a single incident.

With unfulfilled commitments, it all started. She would make promises to support you, be there for you when you needed her, and make time for your relationship, but these promises were often broken. You would eagerly anticipate seeing her at important occasions, only to be let down when she abruptly cancelled or didn't show up, claiming work or other responsibilities.

Then there were the lies. Small ones at first, but they grew more significant and more frequent as time went on. When she was out with friends, she would claim to be stopped in traffic. Even when it was obvious that something wasn't right, she would reassure you. It became difficult to tell what was true and what was fake in her responses.

Her actions had become unexpected and erratic. She would show you affection, love, and attention one minute and make you feel like you were the centre of her world the next. The next, she would be distant, cold, and detached, leaving you to wonder what had gone wrong.

The fact that she was aware of how her actions affected you was possibly the most agonising part.  She noticed your tears, your disappointment, and the breakdown of your once-solid bond. She had apologized countless times, promising to change, but those promises always seemed to fade into empty words.

You had had enough of the emotional rollercoaster and the never-ending cycle of disappointment; you were worn out. Your heart ached, and the idea of any more meaningless excuses was intolerable. Real change, sincere effort, and a dedication to maintaining the connection were required. Action was required; more than simply words.

Bada's expression faltered, and she stared at you, her eyes wide with shock and hurt. In an attempt to react, she trembled and said, "Y/N, I... I didn't mean to..."

But you cut her off, the pain in your heart too overwhelming to bear any longer. "Bada, it's not about intentions anymore. It's about actions. It's about showing me, proving to me, that you're committed to us."

Your voice trembled as you continued, "I can't keep going through this cycle of hope and disappointment. It's tearing me apart, and I don't know how much more I can take. I love you so much, Bada, but I can't keep holding onto empty promises."

The weight of your words weighed heavily in the air, and there was silence. Bada's eyes were filled with tears as she realized the depth of your pain. She reached out to touch your hand, but you pulled away, the wounds still too fresh.

Bada's voice cracked as she finally spoke, "Y/N, I... I understand what you're saying, and I'm so sorry for everything I've put you through. You deserve better, and I promise, I'll do whatever it takes to change."

You couldn't bring yourself to respond immediately. The pain and disappointment had left scars that would take time to heal. You knew that words alone wouldn't be enough to repair the shattered trust between you.

Days turned into weeks, and Bada began to show small, genuine efforts to change. She attended important events, kept her promises, and, most importantly, she showed up for you emotionally. It was a slow and painful process, but you could see that she was trying.

Despite the progress, the scars from the past still haunted you. Every time you looked at her, you remembered the pain you had felt when she had let you down repeatedly. The fear of being hurt again lingered like a shadow.

One evening, you and Bada were sitting on a bench in the park , Bada approached you with a sorrowful expression. "Y/N," she began, her voice trembling, "I know I've hurt you deeply, and I can't change the past. But I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, showing you that I'm committed to us."

You looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of lies, but all you found was sincerity and regret. It was time to make a decision since the importance of your decision was weighing heavy in the air.

You mumbled, "Bada, I want to believe you, and I want us to heal," with a heavy heart. But know that it won't be easy, and the scars may never fully fade"

Bada nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. "I'll spend the rest of my life trying to heal those scars, baby. I promise."

You couldn't help but question if you were doing the right thing as you walked away from Bada with tears flowing down your cheeks. You had been forced to this point by your past suffering, but now that you were faced with the prospect of living without her, it felt like an unbearable load.

Bada stood there, her eyes filled with an equal amount of regret and longing, her voice trembling as she whispered, "Y/N, please..."

However, you couldn't bear to hear her pleading. You had endured too much heartache, too many sleepless nights, and too many promises that were never kept. As you walked further away, the distance between you growing with every step, you whispered to yourself, "Don't apologise if you're just going to keep doing this. Apologize when you're actually going to change."

Both of you felt devastated and defeated after making the terrible choice. The love that had once burned so brightly had now been extinguished, and there was no turning back.

[amethystina]

Fanfic Tag Thingie

I am choosing to be tagged by @miss-ingno because this sounded like fun and I need an escape from the realisation that I am literally on the edge of burnout and my life is a mess. So here we go! :D

How many works do you have on AO3?

76

What's your total AO3 word count?

2 237 636

... and I have around 200k more just sitting in my WIP folders. I can't write short things x'D

What fandoms do you write for?

Right now it's mainly various Kdramas (The Devil Judge, Black Knight, plus my bold venture into Strangers From Hell) but, before that, it was mostly The Losers, Marvel, Pacific Rim, and Teen Wolf. With the occasional detour here and there.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Who Holds the Devil (The Devil Judge, Gahan) at 3 390

Tech Support (MCU, Winteriron) at 3 217

Autonomy (MCU, Winteriron) at 3 137

I Won't Hold My Breath (MCU, Winteriron) at 2 914

Conflict of Interest (MCU, Winteriron) at 2 173

It's honestly a little wild to me that Who Holds the Devil has somehow managed to race to the top despite the other fics being at least four years older (sometimes more). And for a much bigger fandom, at that. You guys are not fucking around.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! Every single one if I can, though it can sometimes take a while before I get to all of them. And I just can't help it, I guess? Partly because I want to show that I've read the comment and appreciate the time and effort that went into writing it, but also because it often gives me an opportunity to talk about my writing and the choices I made in the fic.

And, apparently, the fact that I reply to all comments has become a bit of a thing at least when it comes to Who Holds the Devil, where readers will search through my replies looking for tidbits and extra information about the fic, characters etc.

(you guys are so weird and so dedicated and I love all of you xD)

What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Grief (The Losers (Comics)). Because it is, predictably, about grief and how to keep living after someone you love has died. Though I would argue that the ending has a hint of hopefulness to it since it's also about moving on from said grief?

But yeah. Definitely that one since it's Major Character Death that I choose not to fix.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Literally every single fic except for the one above xD I LOVE my happy endings, okay? And it's kind of difficult to rank them since it depends a lot on the setting, characters, and the personal preference of the reader.

Heck, I even managed to give my Strangers From Hell fanfic a sugary sweet happy ending! That's dedication right there!

Do you get hate on fics?

Yeah, from time to time. I've gotten everything from childish insults calling me a bad writer to backhanded comments questioning my choices, writing style, grammar, spelling, dedication, intelligence, etc. I've even received more targeted, personal hate where people I thought I could trust were making fun of me behind my back in private chat rooms.

Most recently, though, it's less hate and more the "I simply must tell you that you're not writing this fic as I want you to write it" type of deal. Often paired with "It's my personal opinion and I have every right to express it." Which, fair enough. But that means I get to do the same, which I've noticed is something those kinds of commenters kind of hate. Especially when I point out that they've now made me a lot less keen to write the fanfic they're supposedly so fond of.

Turns out people don't like being reminded that their actions have consequences.

All in all, though, I've learned to just delete the comments I find too offensive or hateful.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Oh god no. Sex scenes are the bane of my existence and I spend the entire time writing them looking like this: ლ(ಥ益ಥლ)

I've been told I'm not bad at writing them (the ones in Until Death Do Us Unite were quite appreciated) but anything involving sex or sexual tension is just a nightmare for me. Even more so when it's supposed to be kinky or extra spicy.

So why is one of the main ships I write for right now clearly a Dom/sub ship, you ask?

Because I'm an idiot. That's why.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you've written?

I rarely do. The only crossover I've written is Resurrection where Derek Hale ends up in Purgatory together with Dean Winchester and they fight their way back to the world of the living (so Derek replaces Benny, basically).

I also have this one random fic (yet unposted) where Tony Stark and Eddie Brock are a couple (from the MCU and Venom movies, that is). But they're technically both in the Marvel universe so I'm not sure if that counts?

Long story short, crossovers aren't really my thing. I rarely write or read them.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of, no.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have! Several, in fact, from various fandoms. Mostly into Russian, Spanish, or Mandarin. And I am honestly so flattered every time someone asks me if they can translate one of my fics 💜

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not, no. I made plans to write a fic with a friend once, but we never got to the point of actually writing it. And, in all honesty, I think that might be just as well. I'm a perfectionist and writing a fic with me would probably be very exhausting for the other party xD

What's your all-time favourite ship?

I really don't know. Like, I'm tempted to say Jensen and Cougar from The Losers, or maybe Destiel or Stony, but I think that's partly founded in comfort and nostalgia. My ships change as I do and I really can't pinpoint an all-time favourite.

But CURRENT favourite? Definitely Kang Yo Han and Kim Ga On because they present such a wonderful challenge to someone like me, who loves to go real deep into character motivations, behaviour etc. They're a delight.

What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I'm not sure. I plan to finish all the ones I've started posting but there might be some in my folders that I'll decide to abandon if I truly can't revive my interest in them. But, usually, I can.

And, speaking of that, to all my MCU peeps (if there are any of you still out there): I know you've waited six years for the Tech Support sequel but it's finally been written and just needs to be edited. It's coming, my darlings. I promise.

Basically, when I say I'll do something, I will do it — even if it takes me six goddamn years, apparently x'D

What are your writing strengths?

Characters, tone, and emotions. I'm good at capturing the essence of the characters and write them in a way that feels believable and close to canon. I'm also really good at making people feel things with my writing, I've been told. According to testimonials, my readers can often see what's happening play out inside their heads like a movie, and feel the characters' emotions as they're living through them.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Aside from the aforementioned sex scenes? I think it's my inability to keep things short. I use a lot of unnecessary words and could definitely get better at being more concise. In a similar vein, I sometimes focus so much on the details with lengthy, wordy descriptions that I accidentally forget about the big picture, which is understandably confusing to my readers.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've done it from time to time (since my man Cougar speaks Spanish) but I'm pretty careful with it. And if it's longer sentences I always make sure to double-check with a native speaker.

First fandom you wrote for?

Teen Wolf! Which, admittedly, was because I didn't care if I fucked it up x'D I enjoyed the first two seasons of Teen Wolf, make no mistake! But I chose it mainly because it wasn't the ship I was the most emotionally invested in and so I figured it wouldn't feel as bad if it turned out that I sucked. Luckily enough for me, I didn't xD

Favourite fic you've written?

Just like with the all-time favourite ship, I'm not sure if I can answer this one. Because I like all of my fics but in different ways.

I'll always have a fondness for that first huge Teen Wolf series I wrote, for example, and had a lot of fun with Autonomy because of the world-building. Same goes with Hyperborean. But Who Holds the Devil is definitely my favourite when it comes to character work. While Allies is my favourite when it comes to tone, since it ended up just the way I wanted it to. And Until Death Do Us Unite was an absolute BLAST because I got to write horror and some really weirdass shit, which I've never done before.

So, truly, I can't say. Each one I've written has something I cherish and while some definitely stand out more than others, I wouldn't be able to just pick one.

___

And that's that! I tag whoever wants to do it! :D

[timidxtempted]

It's never just a carrot.

I was standing in my kitchen this morning looking out at the garden. The only bed that I can really see from that vantage point is the carrot bed. That's not a complaint, the carrot bed is actually my favourite one.

I like carrots. Always have.

They're delicious pretty much any way you eat them. Lots of good things for the body. Easy to hide in food for people who (for whatever reason) don't like veggies. Honestly, one of the first things I remember wanting to grow when I thought of trying to grow anything.

It turns out that growing carrots is a lot more complex than I thought it was going to be just from reading about it. Like most things, lived experience often veers off the course of what the research tells you.

Is your soil fertile? Is it balanced? What are the boundaries of the space you are growing? What are your favoured varieties? Will they grow well together? Do you have enough light? Do you have enough shade? Are you ready to dedicate yourself to watering, and to fertilizing and pest control?

Are you ready to do the work?

Make no mistake, it is work. The carrots in a garden don't just appear for your use with zero - or low - effort. Lots of work before you get to partake. It's hard work that needs to be consistently done. If that effort isn't maintained, the crop won't be very fruitful and you might not have them when you need them; alternately, your carrot won't be viable - it might just wither in the ground.

But you! You did the work.

You learned as you went, made adjustments... hardest of all - you learned that you didn't have to tend the garden all by yourself.

Good for you!

So now that you have a gorgeous fucking crop of carrots, everything is wonderful and you can stop working so hard! Right? Everything is planted and look at all the lovely green growing up out of the ground... and "oh I have carrots here, I'm covered for all happy carrots, everything is great and I can kick my feet up because look at all the carrots!"

Mmmm.... Carrots. We are all set.

Hold up, hoes.

Lo and behold, one day you need a carrot while you're trying out a new recipe. You go and pull one out and it's the most wonderful, beautiful carrot and it's perfect and bright and full of nutrients and oh-so-good-for-us-ness... you talk about how excellent the conditions are for your carrot, and how healthy your garden is and eat together in happy-joyful-floaty, well earned satisfaction.

Delicious.

Enjoy your healthy garden!

Next time you are cooking up a storm, you suddenly need another carrot and you run to the garden to pull one and... it's ugly and twisted and there's dirt caked in a crack down the side of it and why does it look hairy? But that's the carrot you have and you use it because... you. need. a carrot.

This time, you discuss the garden conditions and the soil amendments. You make the choice to add and change and adjust and grow with your carrots... You let the fucking difficult carrot teach you how to cultivate a better garden. You share your meal, and it is made no less nurturing or nutritious by the ugly carrot; in fact, it is made even more delicious and fulfilling by the work you have put in to enhance your garden... by the choice to secure your future full of delectable, lovely carrots.

Each time you pull a carrot - be it perfect or ugly as hell, each time you talk about pulling a carrot, each time you tend to your carrots... you can make the choice to improve your garden as a whole. You can make the decision to apply what you have carrot-learned to how you handle other issues you might someday come up against with your lettuce, or your beans.

.

Hey, something just occurred to me...

.

Kinda the same with safewords, isn't it?

Who'd have thought that carrots and safewords would have so much in common?

.

Are you ready to do the work?

To prepare your soil? Plant your seeds? Tend your garden?

When you are ready... Use every single veggie or herb you pull... Every flower you pluck... to make your whole garden healthier, more nurturing...

Having to harvest your carrots is not a bad thing. Done with respect, with care, with mutually supportive intention, it serves to improve your garden.

Making it stronger. Resistant to pests.

Growing ever healthier and more resilient.

Sew.

Get fucking filthy.

Garden safe(word)ly on.

🥕

[peachesofteal]

Hi Peach,

You seem like such a dedicated and disciplined writer. I'd love to start writing my own works, but I struggle very much with planning my stories and staying focused enough to write them.

As a young child of five or six, I used to write fanfics (mostly warrior cats) that were literally hundreds of pages long and complete with in-page illustrations, and I'm not even exaggerating. I loved writing them and it was so easy to sit down and just let the words and story flow as I went along.

I didn't plan anything so there were PLENTY of mistakes and plot holes, but I didn't care. And I think the fact that I could write anything without caring if it was bad is what made it fun. I guess, it was enjoyable because I just didn't care.

But life happened and I stopped writing for a long time. I feel so disappointed now because I'm getting back into it and it feels so daunting. I struggle with having the drive and dedication to sit down and do it. I feel like David facing Goliath everytime I open a document.

Everything I write gets trashed, and I'm just so afraid that it'll turn out bad that I never actually write much of anything. When I outline, it always feels like something is off, so I'm stuck editing and changing and altering the plot for months on end, meaning I don't get any actual work done.

But without an outline, I'm afraid my work will be scrambled and unorganized and full of embarrassing gaps in the plot and logic of the story.

Everything is in a perpetual state of not being done and it makes writing feel like such a chore. I'd love to get back to writing the way I used to, but I just don't know how.

But I stumbled across Simple Math and then your blog and then your other fics, and I was really blown away by the quality of your stories and how it felt like you actually cared about them. The writing and plots were refreshing, I actually enjoyed and cared about the characters, and I could just tell that you put a lot of effort into making the fics. I really admired the way it seems you're able to create quality literature with such confidence and ease.

However, we're all human and I'm sure you've had plenty of moments in which you struggled to write, and I'd love to know how you've dealt with them. Do have any tips when it comes to learning how to write without getting distracted or bored or frustrated? Do you mind sharing how you come up with your stories and outlines? What is the method to your madness? Please, share your secrets 🤲🏽

Sorry for the long ask, by the way; once I start talking I just can't stop myself, it seems. Also sorry for turning this ask into a psuedo-therapy session, I just wanted to give some context on why I'm asking. However, you can ignore this if you want ❤️

Regardless, (and I say again) I really love your works and I hope you have a great day 💞

Hi! Here's the only thing I can really say to you: just write!

If outlining is twisting you up, skip it. If worry about your writing being good or quality is causing you to panic and stop, push through it. Start with a blank document and ten words. Then make those ten words one hundred words, and so on and so forth. Find the thing about writing that you love (because it sounds like you do!) and use that to keep yourself going. Don't get hung up on if it will be good or if there will be plot holes, just get it out of your head and into a document. (I hope this helps even though I'm not very good at advice) Good luck!

[alexbrunn]

You're pretty damn good at making comics. How did you develop such a skill?

As cliché as it sounds, I think it's a matter of practice here. I'm not an avid comic book reader, I always prefer anime to manga (I read manga 2 times when I was eager to know the sequel, but I was well aware that I just couldn't wait for the anime adaptation). I encounter this kind of art only occasionally on the vastness of the internet and never emphasize too much to gain experience or anything like that. And if I learn, it's only from my mistakes. (Maybe that's why I still can't master the dynamics of lines when moving something, because I don't have much exposure and understanding of how it works)

If telling it from the beginning, my journey started with what could be called "art with text". That's a long period from late 2018 to early 2021. I didn't take drawing and drawing comics in particular seriously enough at the time, but as a first step to what I have now it's worth talking about. I just draw the art (at the time I didn't care about the background, which gave me some room to add text) so that it appears to stand alone and without text next to it, and write the text in the remaining space. There was no hint of separate panels or dividing the canvas into multiple parts. The composition and perception suffers from this, but because the character in the picture itself is elaborated I thought that everything looks even good. Also, as for me it is important to say that I always had an incentive. Question format. People ask a question of a character, and artists answer that question by drawing a comic. I had a deadline that I always had to meet, which in a lot of ways kept me evolving and moving forward.

At the beginning of 2021, I'm doing similar things in the same way, but there is some kind of turning point. Perhaps I had grown older and perceived the world around me a little more maturely, perhaps the subject matter of the issues seemed more interesting, because now I wasn't just talking about my favorite character that anyone in the fandom who knew that character could talk about, but about the interaction between two characters close to my heart. The fandom wasn't set up to think about their relationship. Probably half forgot one of the characters existed or turned it into a silly joke. But I found something different about them that no one else saw. I saw in them a very touching father-son relationship that in many ways helped me through some of the moments of this life as well. Faith, help and support was the outlet that I was anxious to develop between them. And it was exactly what I wanted to show the world around me, because it had already happened in the fandom, but with characters who couldn't do that in canon, and people didn't even notice such a great option that I found.

That's why I went from light and non-committal comics to something heavy. There appeared full panels and division into several plans and characters that could go beyond the panel. But the composition was still lame because of the perception of the comic as a set of artwork. The bubbles were inserted anywhere, they were transparent, which made it uncomfortable to read. The pages were also time-consuming, because I wanted to put all my efforts into them and to make the audience feel at ease, if not with high skill, then with dedication and hard work. I almost always drew the background, although I blured it so that it did not stand out in the foreground, drew all the dialog, even those that did not make sense.

I think I did about a hundred pages between early 2021 and mid 2023. That's not a lot, but considering I'm still learning and it's periodically time-consuming, I think I can be understood. However, it's been enough to gradually progress. To learn composition (not to try to make the largest possible portrait of the character, and already in the sketch to lay a place for the text, In general make the text small and leave empty air space for it in the bubble). Then the background started to appear not on all panels, but only on the key ones. I think it’s stylish?

I even tried to make a manga, but it didn't succeed. After all, I've been drawing in color all this time, and the ability to handle screentones is a whole other direction that also needs to be learned. And of course the dynamic strips... That's how it stopped at 5 pages.

I came to what I have now around the fall of 2023 after a bit of a break, moving to a different fandom, switching to an iPad from a computer. I'm just as driven by the desire to show the fandom something it hasn't seen yet, but already talking about Marcoh, Pav and already their interactions. I still have a lot to look forward to and I think this won't be the last post about my milestones.

Thank you so much for this question! I apologize for taking so long to reply. I tried to find some old works to show them, but unfortunately I deleted everything, so I had to tell everything in words.

[naminethewriter]

Reality Shift

We reach the end of another @loceitweek. It was very fun participating again, thank you mods for organizing 🥰 I hope you enjoy this last story of mine! 💛💙

Masterpost | Loceit Week 2023 Masterpost | Ao3

Summary: Janus is a Clockmaker with his own shop. When a particular customer comes in, things change in a ways Janus doesn't know - yet.

Content Warnings: Philosophical discussions, Death mention, Afterlife mention, Mention of burning and fire

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

Janus was in the middle of installing a gear into his newest work when the bell above the shop entrance rang.

“One moment, please!” he called out, steadying his hand once more before moving the piece into place. It fit perfectly. With a sigh of relief, he pushed the magnifying lens away from his eye and wiped away the sweat on his brow. He allowed himself a short moment of rest before placing his tools aside and walking towards the front.

“Sorry about that, I was in the middle of an assembly,” he explained to the customer who was closely examining his wares. “How can I help you?”

The customer turn to face him and Janus was immediately struck by his deep blue eyes that almost seemed to draw him in. The other man must have noticed him staring because he quickly broke eye-contact and cleared his throat.

Janus shook his head. What just happened? Sure, he had had gay moments before but never like this. This felt different. It had felt… unnatural.

“I simply came in to browse. It is rare to see a proper clockmaker shop these days,” the man explained in a smooth tone that was very pleasing to Janus’ ears. In an attractive way this time, not that weird floating feeling he had got from looking into the man’s eyes.

“Yes, indeed. I doubt I would be able to do this if not for my uncle owning the building. I would never be able to afford the rent, but he’s always been very supportive of me.”

“I see. An understanding and supportive family is a great blessing indeed,” the man nodded. “If you don’t mind my asking, why are you making clocks and watches? With the advance of modern technology, most simply rely on their devices to tell the time. Some of the younger generations don’t even know how to read the time without a digital display anymore.”

Janus eyed the man. That was quite the personal question and he was normally not keen on sharing such details with strangers, but he was also a good judge of character – at least he thought so – and something told him that he could trust this man. Well, what was the harm in telling him?

“I always found clocks fascinating, the hands ever moving, the gears ever turning, everything needs to move precisely how it should for it to work. My grandfather had a small collection of watches, some quite valuable antiques actually. They were so pretty; I could hardly take my eyes off of them. And to just imagine of much effort and precision went into making them, it was like a miracle to me. I wanted to try it for myself, and now, here I am,” Janus smiled, leaning against the counter of his shop and watched his own creations tick away.

“Time is such a fascinating part of our lives, don’t you think?” he continued, absentmindedly stroking his finger across the face of his own watch. “An unstoppable force that dictates everything we do. The fact that we have limited time to live, to do the things we want to do, is what drives us forward the most and I don’t think people appreciate it enough. They’re afraid of death to the point that they curse the passage of time that brings them closer to the brink and I can’t think of anything more beautiful than to watch it pass and change our surroundings. Imagine how dull it would be if everything stayed the same if time didn’t pass. I don’t think enough people appreciate that about time passing. And I think having a watch, a separate tool dedicated to time, is a reminder to be grateful for the life we get to live, no matter how short or long.” He looked up and was met by those deep blue, captivating eyes again. Quickly, he looked away.

The movement seemed to startle the man out of his own thoughts and he cleared his throat again.

“That is some profound reasoning. I’m impressed.” Janus shrugged.

“It’s simply my opinion. Not many I’ve spoken to about it agree with me.”

“No, I imagine they wouldn’t. Thank you for your explanation. I will come by again.” With that the man hurried out the door and Janus wondered if he had just imagined the pink tint to the stranger’s cheeks.

~~~

Janus didn’t know what happened. One moment he was struggling to breathe, the smoke suffocating him, unable to move to escape the heat of the flames, and then, suddenly, everything had vanished. Or maybe he had vanished. The floor – or whatever was under him now – felt cool to the touch but not uncomfortably so. The air was clean and carried a hint of something he couldn’t identify.

He could breathe again. He wasn’t burning anymore. What the hell was going on?

“I’m sorry for my abrupt actions,” a voice he found familiar but couldn’t quite place, suddenly spoke above him, “but I couldn’t remain idle. Can you stand?” Slowly, because he still didn’t know what was happening and felt very disoriented, Janus pushed himself up.

“Where am I?” he asked before looking at where the voice had come from. He was met by a face he recognized though he didn’t know from where until he focused on the eyes. Deep, blue, and captivating. “You’re that customer from a few years back.”

“Indeed.” The man offered him a hand to help him completely to his feet which Janus accepted. He was wary of the stranger, but something about him felt so unthreatening he couldn’t bring himself to refuse.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Janus reminded once he was standing. Looking around he found himself in an observatory of some kind, with a glass dome surrounding them and a sea of stars as long as the eye could see. Wherever he was, it was not Earth.

“It is not an easy question to answer.”

“I imagine it wouldn’t be. Am I dead?”

“Yes, in a sense.”

“Elaborate.” The man sighed before motioning Janus to follow him towards the giant telescope in the middle of the dome.

“Your human perception of death… I do not understand it fully, I must admit, but if I were to use terms that relate to what most of your kind believes, then I would be what you would call a deity. My domain is the passage of time and the movement of space. And in the moment of your death, I pulled away your essence from the world you know to here.”

“My essence? As in my soul?” Janus asked as they climbed the steps up to the lens of the telescope.

“It is not entirely similar to what you would call ‘a soul’ but close enough to make the comparison, I suppose.”

“Then what happens to me now?”

“That is up to you,” the man – no, god, apparently – shrugs as he motions for Janus to take a seat in one of the chairs placed beside the telescope while the god – feels weird to call him that, Janus thinks – places himself in front of the lens. “It was my thoughtless action that brought you here, but I will not force you to stay.”

“So I wasn’t supposed to be here?”

“No, you weren’t. This is a space of my creation, for me alone.”

“Then why did you bring me here?”

“I… am not quite sure of that myself. Unlike what you humans believe, even as a deity, I am not all-knowing. Especially you humans confound me often. Which is why I travel to your world every once in a while. I have watched you for millennia. Watched you curse my domain for ending your lives and keeping you from reaching what goals you strive towards, but you, you were so different that day in your store. You understood the value of my work and I found myself wanting to converse with you longer, but I am not supposed to interfere with your world. There are others – other deities if you so will – who care for your kind and do not wish for ours to change yours.

“So I kept an eye on you from afar and when you were on the brink of death, of disappearing from my sight, I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out and bringing you here.”

“Won’t the other deities reprimand you for that? If you aren’t supposed to interfere?” Janus questioned.

“I did not interfere with what was supposed to happen. You still died. Your body will still be found and mourned. Time will continue the same as if I had not acted.”

“What about where I was supposed to go from there? Shouldn’t my ‘essence’ as you call it not be somewhere else?”

“No. It would have simply disappeared.”

“So there is no life after death?”

“There is not.”

“I see.”

“You are quite accepting of this shift in your perceived reality.”

“I suppose I am,” Janus smiled, coyly, as the deity faced him again after having looked through the lens for the last part of their conversation. “I never saw much sense in committing to a believe I couldn’t prove, so religion didn’t interest me. If you are a deity and you say this is how reality works, then I can accept that.”

“You truly are strange.”

“So I’ve been told.”

The deity laughed.

“I truly hope you will stay a while. I haven’t had good company in so long.”

“I have no where else to be, apparently. So why not.”

“I am grateful.”

“I’m Janus.”

The deity smiled and reached out a hand.

“Logos. But I would like you to refer to me as Logan.”

“Sure. Thank you for bringing me here, Logan. I look forward to learning about this reality from your perspective.”

[thepastisalreadywritten]

'I need an outlet': Grieving relatives talk to lost loved ones on phone in the forest

By Matt Mcknight

13 June 2023

OLYMPIA, Washington, June 12 (Reuters) - In the middle of a serene forest four miles from Washington state's capital, Olympia, sits a vintage rotary phone.

It is not connected to a telephone line and looks out of place.

But it has become a literal lifeline for people to speak words out loud to lost loved ones; words they never got the chance to say while they were still alive.

Corey Dembeck, 41, created and installed the original wind phone in the Pacific Northwest's Squaxin Park in late 2020, after learning about the death of their family friend's four-year-old daughter.

It was inspired by the original wind phone set up in Otsuchi, Iwate Prefecture, Japan, ten years earlier.

"One morning, I woke up and went downstairs, and my wife looked shocked. She was like 'Joelle died,'" says Dembeck.

He has since moved away from Olympia but keeps in touch with the Sylvester family, whose young daughter Joelle Rose died suddenly after becoming sick with strep throat that triggered sepsis in her body.

"It messed me up, so I was like, right then and there, I'm going to build one of these things for them."

Dembeck, a U.S. Army veteran who worked as a photojournalist from 2000-2005, brought the phone, supplies and tools into the city-owned park and attached it to an old-growth cedar tree in a quiet area off a trail.

Dembeck, standing beside the phone almost three years later, says his reasoning behind sneaking it into the park was that it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission, especially because it was going to be something that was hard to explain.

After people learned of the phone and started visiting it in droves, the city decided to make it an official installation, removing it from the tree and working with Dembeck to create a signage board and plaque memorializing Joelle.

The plaque reads:

"This phone is for everyone who has ever lost a loved one. The phone is an outlet for those who have messages they wish to share with their friends and family. It is a phone for memories and saying the goodbyes you never got to say."

'I NEED AN OUTLET'

During a recent afternoon, Joelle's family paid a visit to the phone to celebrate her life.

Erin Sylvester, Joelle's mother, said they sometimes have pizza parties and invite friends to join them.

"I need the phone. I need an outlet. Because it's dedicated to my daughter, I feel like it's different than for someone else to come and use it," says Sylvester, 34, her eyes welling up with tears.

"Not being able to hear her voice on the other side of that phone can be very gut-wrenching. So, I usually come when none of my other coping mechanisms are working and I'm looking for a last-ditch effort."

Joelle's brothers, Jayden, 12, and Jonah, 8, and her sister, Joy, 5, take turns speaking into the handset, telling her how much they love and miss her, and place new photos on the post and keepsakes that she loved on top of the phone.

During their visit, a speckled brown and white barred owl lands on a branch of the cedar tree, just above the phone. The family is mesmerized.

Erin says owls were Joelle's "baby theme" when she was born. The same type of owl visited them recently in a similar way but at a different location.

"It's got to be a sign. There's no other way I can think about it ... that's not a fluke," says Joelle's father, Andre Sylvester, 37, wiping tears from his eyes.

Moments later, he picks up the phone to speak to his late daughter.

"I miss you. Thanks for showing up today. I miss you a lot."

Sylvester says, looking up at the branch where the owl perched moments before.

"I wish we could go take a walk around the block while I smoke my cigar and you tell everybody hi, and you pet every dog. I miss that."

Since the installation of Olympia's telephone, word of it has inspired other Americans to create ones across the country.

Dembeck has spoken by email and phone with many others who have installed a phone in honor of their loved ones.

He estimates there are now 50 across the United States.

Dembeck says everyone who tells him about using their phone also told him a tragic backstory.

"The fact that something simple like this immensely helped them, it's been really humbling," he says, adding he feels it's the greatest thing he has ever done.