#and that’s such a turning point in our relationship

[awrkive]

Wer is grumpy jk! We badly need it 😫😭

summary: you and jungkook are getting closer, moving forward – but to where, exactly? what does that entail for your relationship? 

w/c: 3.3k

note: this is for all the girlies who asked for part 2 for this drabble. nothing but fluff in here ): ive been thinking abt college jk lately and i lowkey like this grumpy!jk guy… basically this takes place two months after the first drabble u may read this amm for grumpy!jk for a brief bg on what their relationship has become before u go read this parr. anyway the ending is a bit diabolical and im saying sorry in advance

also pls listen to come here by kath bloom, its literally so them 😮‍💨😖

It’s almost natural the way Jungkook immediately slings his backpack on one shoulder, heads straight out of the lecture hall, and starts the almost ten-minute walk from his department building to yours the moment his last class for the day was dismissed. 

He waits outside by the hallway along the lecture room, scrolling through his phone mindlessly, knowing that any minute now you’ll be coming out of the door. 

And just as a slew of students’ chattering becomes louder, their heavy footsteps coming out from the hall, Jungkook instantly spots you; talking to a friend animatedly – Joy, maybe? – before you look to the other side and finally see him. 

“Jungkook!” You exclaim with excitement, smiling up at him and even doing a little wave. Jungkook watches as you turn to your friend. “Sorry, I gotta go. Zoom meeting at five, right?” He hears you say before she nods, bidding your goodbyes to each other before she goes in the opposite direction while you saunter towards him with that usual dashing grin on your face. 

Jungkook meets you halfway, lips curling up slightly at your enthusiastic greeting. Even more so when you don’t fight off the way he goes for your tote bag, taking it off your shoulder and wearing it on his own, the weight not adding that much to his own bag perched on his back. 

He remembers the first time he tried to do it (awkwardly, might he add), and you vehemently refused. But Jungkook can be persistent sometimes when he wants to, and eventually you gave up trying to resist.

Currently, as you walk along the hallway out of your building, standing close together, Jungkook tries not to think too much about how easy this feels. Like it’s normal the way you immediately interlock your arm around his own, skipping a little bit upon your walk as you begin speaking.

“You really did cut your hair.” You marvel at him when he looks down at you. And he can’t help it; the blood rushing to his cheeks and certainly on his ears. 

“I sent you a picture.” He simply says. It was yesterday. He originally went to his barber for just a trim but he remembers you saying something about a particular actor’s haircut… and look, it’s not like he was trying to look like that man but it may have influenced the decision a little bit… 

Anyway, he thinks it looks okay on him. He trusts his barber and Hoseok said it suits him. From your response, you also said it looks nice. 

And you tell him so. “I like it! You look so good. Especially with this frame!” You point to his eyeglasses, smiling up at him. “I was thinking you were just sending me a random picture last night.” 

Jungkook chuckles. “I wasn't, and uh, thank you.”

“You're welcome. Anyway,” you say, “Did you wait for long earlier? Sorry ‘bout that. Prof. Shin had to extend a little bit ‘cause there were a lot of questions about our new project.” 

“You have a new project?”

“Yeah, but nothing really heavy. Just a hotel lobby interior design. We got a week and it’s a paired task thing, that’s why you saw me with Joy earlier—”

He sees a flock of students ahead huddling by your side of the pathwalk, and because you have a tendency to not really pay that much attention to your surroundings, he takes you by the waist slightly to avoid bumping with them, causing you to stumble closer to him. 

You crane your neck to look behind you for a moment, gaze falling back up to Jungkook with widened eyes. “Sorry.” you say with a jutted lip and a little frown. 

“It’s okay.” Jungkook says with a reassuring smile. He means it. He likes being close like this and if you don’t watch your surroundings, he’ll just do it for you. He doesn’t mind. 

You grin. “Anyway… I was saying, it’s a hotel interior. But! The thing is, it’s a themed hotel, which I’m really excited about ‘cause I’m tired of designing contemporary, luxury ones. They always tend to be so redundant.” 

Jungkook nods. “I think so too. What’s the themed hotel about?” 

“Have you heard of a film called Metropolis?” He shakes his head. You nod at that. “Well, yeah, me neither. At least a week ago. Prof gave it to us as an assignment and it’s a silent film from the ‘20s. A sci-fi tale, so very futuristic – at least for that time. So that’s the theme of the hotel, right, and Joy and I immediately thought of art deco.” 

Jungkook intently listens as you go on about your initial ideas, and he doesn’t even have to worry about the terms he doesn’t understand because you always take time to explain it to him in layman’s. It’s funny, really, because ever since he’s learned that you study interior design and started to talk to him about it, he found himself taking interest in it as well. Two months ago, he couldn't have given a single care about a couple named Charles and Ray Eames and their weird chair called La Chaise, but here he is, anyway.

Maybe it’s because of the way you so passionately talk about it. Your zeal oozes out so much when it comes up as the topic of conversation, and there’s always been something about you that pulls people right in. And Jungkook’s at peace with himself now that he’s just one of those people. 

He’s willing to be pulled right in, anyway. You don’t exactly make it hard to. 

And Jungkook finds that the newfound dynamic between you two isn’t… so bad. He finds excitement at the prospect of seeing you after his classes are concluded, going to Fro-yo for a quick snack because you’re obsessed with it, and studying together at his place later in the day.

A lot of people would say he’s making up for all the times he’s ignored you. The times when he pretended to not care about you. The times when he was just unprovokedly mean and treated you the way he regrets now. And sure, it may have started that way. Ever since your Environmental Science project was finished and the term was over, Jungkook started to feel like he couldn’t go back to the life where you weren’t within his perimeter. Couldn’t imagine you both being back to – practically – regular strangers, so he just… opened up to you more.

He shares his own stories now. Tells you about his day after you do so, and invites you to Fro-yo and other cafes and restaurants around campus whenever your schedules align. 

And maybe at first it was, indeed, because he was trying to make up for his past behavior – but that may have only been what he convinced himself of for the first few weeks. When the week stretched into months and the months suddenly involved you doing sleepovers at his place whenever his roommate, Hoseok, is not around, Jungkook is starting to question himself if this is all still about simply making it up to you. 

Because frankly, he’s starting to feel like it's a little more than that.

He’s not just buying you frozen yogurt and helping you with any assignment (that requires his silly and minuscule math and science expertise) and letting you borrow and keep his hoodies and shirts whenever you sleep over because he’s trying to make up for the past – he’s doing all of these because he genuinely enjoys your company and would like to do more for you… with you… to you… and just… just more. 

He wants more with you. 

And every single day is a daunting battle for his internal mullings. 

Because he knows he’s been stupid all this time not to realize right away that he’s got romantic feelings for you. That his confusion when it comes to you didn't come from the reason that you were extremely extroverted and had way too much energy – it was that those things made him like you and his little heart and brain couldn’t comprehend any of it the way he can easily wrap his head around math equations and concepts.

But he keeps himself on the sidelines. Thinks about keeping himself there until he’s sure of what you truly think about. 

You’re always nice to him. But you’re kind of nice to everybody… so that gets him a little twisted.

On Monday, when you were supposed to hang out – when you usually sleep over at his place, you bailed on him to study with Jae, as per Taehyung's words, your mutual friend.

He just can’t tell if the way you treat him is different to the way you treat everyone else, and that’s what’s been on his mind lately. 

“Oh, Kookie,” you say as soon as Jungkook takes out his keys, going for his keyfob when you arrive at the parking area. He looks at you in question, completely ignoring the way his heart flutters a little at the nickname. He kind of hates it, thinks it's too childish when other people call him that – but with you it sounds so much like an endearment, so he doesn't protest. You press your lips into a thin line before you say, “I can’t go to Fro-yo today. Joy and I agreed to have a zoom meeting later to start conceptualizing.” 

“Oh,” Jungkook blinks. “Rain check?” 

You pout. “Yeah.” 

“You can do it at my place? Hoseok’s doing an all-nighter with his study group, so he won’t be there ‘til the morning.”

“But I didn’t bring my laptop today.”

With furrowed brows, Jungkook steps closer to you. “It’s alright. We can drive to your place, get your laptop then go to mine,” he smiles. “Sleepover?” 

Jungkook doesn’t want to toot his own horn but he may have seen your face light up at that. But it comes off easily and he begins to worry.

“I want to, but I don’t want to impose.” You say. 

Instantly, Jungkook’s forehead creases. “You won’t be imposing.” When he sees that you’re about to decline again, he lets out a, “Please?” 

At that, you stop. You stare at him for a moment. 

“Uh…” you trail off. “You sure? Are you not busy tonight?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll probably start on an assignment so we can be both busy–” you nudge his arm at that, laughing. “– but other than that, no. I’ll cook us something. Or do you want to get take-out instead?” 

“I’d really, really appreciate your black bean noodles tonight.” You muse, looking at him like he holds the stars in the sky. With you gazing up at him like that, how can he say no?

“I think we have the ingredients in the fridge. Black bean noodles it is, then.” Jungkook says before you’re muffling your own squeal in your excitement, saying your little delighted “thank you” when Jungkook ushers you in the passenger seat after opening it for you. 

He rounds the car before he settles on his side, and when he starts the engine, he can’t help but smile slightly at the way you lean comfortably on your seat, as if you’re so used to being in his car – which you are.

And Jungkook finds he likes that. He likes you that way; being used to being around him. 

“You’re done?” Jungkook looks up from his computer, seeing you doing some arm stretches and leaning into his gaming chair to do it on your neck as well. 

“Yep.” 

“Then come here already.” He shuts his laptop close, places it on the bedside table, and pats the space on the mattress next to him. 

It’s nearly 10pm and your zoom meeting with Joy went for nearly 4 hours. You got on it immediately after you two ate your dinner, and like clockwork, asked to borrow one of Jungkook’s shirts because your top was getting a little too uncomfortable on your body. You’ve both already showered – separately, of course – and that’s one of the many things that Jungkook smiles about when he enters his bathroom sometimes. Because the fact that you shower in his bathroom means your essentials are slowly making a space for themselves in his own place; the yellow cup holder of your toothbrush sits next to his blue one, and a bottle of your moisturizer is also in his lavatory cabinet. 

“‘M so tired” You let yourself fall on the mattress, bouncing a little on it face down, sprawling across the bed like some starfish, your other hand landing on Jungkook’s abdomen. 

“Meeting went well?” Jungkook asks, and he’s a little disappointed when you remove an arm on him, but that’s okay, because soon you’re leaning sidewards to properly look at him and it makes him smile to see you so cozy like this. Barefaced and in his shirt. 

“Yeah, we got some work done,” You say. Jungkook watches as you try to get comfortable on your side of the bed. “I think I’m sleepy now.” 

“Yeah?” He follows after you, and he doesn’t hide his huge smile when you go and turn your back to him immediately after he slides his arm under your neck, spooning you from behind. Snuggling closer to him, Jungkook wraps his other arm around your waist and lets out a contented sigh against the back of your head. “My first class is at one thirty pm tomorrow.” 

“I have one at eight am. Then the next one is at ten.” 

“Tough.” 

“I know… I wish I didn’t enlist in morning classes.” 

He chuckles, closing his eyes as he starts to feel that familiar lull of sleep dancing behind his eyes. But truth be told, he doesn’t want to give into that just yet.

“You were with Jae on Monday?” He asks, carefully treading through the subject. It’s Thursday now. It's not like Jungkook’s a jealous guy… it just kind of threw him off a little, because you didn’t tell him you were with Jae. 

“Uh… yeah?” Jungkook feels you freezing in his arms. “How’d you know?” 

“Taehyung told me.” 

“Oh.” He can practically hear the wince. “He has such a big mouth.” You say drily. 

That earns you a laugh from Jungkook. But he decides to take down the jokes for a more honest and open conversation with you tonight. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” It’s not accusatory. It’s soft and gentle, the way he asks it, with his thumb rubbing the exposed skin of your hip due to the hem of your – his – shirt riding up. 

Your answer takes awhile. 

“I was… getting help with estimates.” 

“... Okay,” Jungkook tightens his hold around you, growing confused. “But I’m really good with estimates. I could’ve helped you.” It was easy math for him. And you never shied away from asking him for help before… why now?

“Well, he offered.” 

Jungkook’s brows crease deeper. “That’s not…" he trails off, then continues, "You know you can ask me for anything, right? Jae’s not even on the dean's list. How’d you know he’s teaching you the right stuff?”  

Silence hangs in the air before Jungkook hears your laughter. Shuffling in his arms, Jungkook loosens his hold around you to let you turn to him. When he sees your face, there's a huge grin on it.

“He’s not even on the dean’s list?” You sound intrigued.

Jungkook assumed you were curiously speaking, and so he nods, looking into your eyes seriously. “He isn’t. Look, I’m not saying–” when he notices your smile only getting wider by the second, he realizes you’re just trying to fuck with him, so Jungkook cuts himself off, letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I sound like an asshole.”

You scoot closer until both the front of your bodies are stuck. Jungkook tries not to think too much whether you’re wearing a bra underneath his shirt or not. 

You shake your head. “Not really. I believe you’re way smarter than him.” 

“Then why come to him and not me?” 

You stare at him for a moment, then you let out a heavy breath. “I just feel like you’re doing so many things for me nowadays. You were also really busy on Monday– don’t deny it–” you say before he opens his mouth to oppose that. He shuts his lips close, listening to you go on instead. “– and I was just being considerate. Jae offered because we saw and sat next to each other at the library, and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to disturb you.” 

Jungkook blinks, processing your words. After a pregnant pause, he slowly nods, still dumbstruck. 

“Ah… okay. I understand.” he says, embarrassment slowly filling his system. 

You smile at him. Playfully. “Sorry for asking help from someone who’s not on the dean’s list.” Jungkook drops his expression into a poker face at that, which makes you laugh even more. You nibble on your bottom lip before you stretch your hand to his cheek and pinch it. He doesn’t bother dodging your hand. With a giggle, you say, “Sorry, sorry. That was just so funny. You’re so funny without even trying sometimes, you know?” 

“Not really.” Jungkook says and you can tell the tell-tale signs of his grumpiness starting to kick in.

What he doesn’t expect is the way you suddenly squeal and launch yourself on top of him, causing him to lie fully on his back with you sprawled all over his body, hugging him tight and burying your face in his chest. 

“You’re so cuddly and warm. Can we stay like this for awhile?” You break away from his chest and look at him from a low angle. 

Jungkook meets your gaze. 

Sure, you’ve been cuddling (platonically) all these past few months – but they never went to this length. And he’s not sure what the difference is, anyway – just that you’re much closer like this and Jungkook can feel everything. Still, that doesn’t deter him from wrapping his arms around your waist, slightly locking you in the position. Quite frankly, he doesn’t even want you to move. 

“Alright.” Is his simple answer. Not like he needed to think about it.

“I’ll sleep now, okay?” But you don’t wait for his response before you lay on his chest again with your cheek pressed on his hoodie.

Because the moment just feels right somehow, Jungkook lets his hand wander on your head. Then slowly, he lets his fingers comb through the strands of your hair, tentatively at first, lest you didn’t want him touching you or something like that – but once he hears a sound akin to a purr coming from you, he continues and finds himself getting comforted by the action as well. 

“The Jae thing really bothered you?” You ask suddenly, not breaking away from the position you’ve assumed on top of his body. But your words are slightly slurred in the haze of sleep.

Jungkook hums. “Yes.” 

“Sorry for not telling you myself.” 

“It’s okay,” Jungkook reassures you. His gaze falls to the ceiling, hand still caressing your hair. The surface is empty, and there’s not really much going on. Meanwhile, in your own bedroom, you have those glow in the dark star stickers pasted on your white ceiling. He’s never slept over there, but he thinks it would be nice to lay under your makeshift galaxy with your homely scent surrounding the two of you. “Are you not gonna ask why I was bothered?” He says after a beat. 

“I was gonna. But I think I know.” You answer, and Jungkook doesn’t expect that one bit.

He stops his ministrations on your hair, and it’s obvious that you’re about to question it when you suddenly peel your face away from his chest again. 

When you do, Jungkook meets your gaze and with a leveled tone, he asks the question he’s been mulling about for the past two months.

“__, what are we?” 

[chestersturniolo]

good cop , bad cop

Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader x Chris Sturniolo

Summary; You have been a moody guts all day. Matt goes straight to comforting mode.. Chris, not so much

disclaimer; Chratt poly relationship dynamic! if you are not comfortable with this, do not read // suggestive // pet names // most likely a one shot.. based on this request

You flop onto the couch with an exaggerated huff, crossing your arms over your chest. Your irritation at an all time high for no real reason. It’s been one of those days, and it feels like nothing is going your way.

Matts attention is caught by your dramatics, he glances over from where he sat on the other side of the couch. “Hey-” he says softly “-what’s wrong sweetheart? You’ve been in a mood since this morning” his voiced concerned

You groan dramatically, rolling your eyes. “Nothing. I’m fine.” you snap,

Matt frowns, “C’mon, talk to me. Did something happen? Did I do something?” His voice is still patient, gentle, but for some reason it only makes you more annoyed.

“Ugh, Matt can you not?-” you sass back. “-I said I’m fine. Why can’t you just leave it alone?”

Before Matt can respond, Chris speaks up from the kitchen, his voice cutting through your tantrum “Alright, that’s enough” he says firmly, turning to face you. His blue eyes locking onto yours,. “What’s with the attitude, kid? You’ve been whinin’ n actin’ like a little brat all day”

Your eyebrows immediately raise, taken back by his tone.

“Chris!” Matt snaps, shooting him a disapproving look. “Don’t talk to her like that, she’s just—”

“She’s just what?” Chris interrupts, standing his ground. “Throwing a tantrum because she’s gotten herself all worked up for no reason? Don’t coddle her, Matt. It’s not helping.”

You glare at him, but Chris doesn’t waver. “look I get that you’re not in the best of moods today-” he says, his tone softening just a little “-but that doesn’t mean you get to take it out on us. We’re here to help you, not be your punching bags kid”

Matt sighs, running a hand through his hair “You didn’t have to put it like that” he mutters, clearly torn between defending you and acknowledging Chris has a point.

“Maybe not-“ Chris concedes, his gaze flicking back to you “-but she needed to hear it”

You shift in your seat with an subtle eye roll. Chris wasn’t wrong…you had been a little over the top today. But still, his bluntness stings.

Matt scoots over to you on the couch, his hand resting gently on your knee. “listen-” he says softly “-whenever something’s bothering you, just tell us, okay? We can talk anything out”

“Yeah-“ chris starts in agreement, making his way over to the couch “-we’ve got your back ma, next time lose the attitude, huh?” he says,crossing his arms as he stands infront of you

You sigh, the fight draining out of you as you mumble, “Okay, m’sorry” feeling slightly guilty

Matt smiles, giving your knee a reassuring squeeze. Chris smirks, tossing a wink your way “There’s our girl”

Your lips instinctively curl upward at his coo..you’d always found it quite hard to stay mad at them for long periods of time. They had this way of breaking your attitude down, sometimes without even trying. You let out another small sigh, “i think i’ve just been a little stressed lately that’s all..” you say honestly, your eyes flickering between them both.

Matt clicks his tongue “ah baby, why didn’t you say so? i know just the thing for that..” he says before throwing a glance to chris with a smirk. They share a quick knowing look before Chris’ smirk forms also, knowing exactly what his brother is getting at.

Before you could process what was happening, Chris leans down, scooping you up off the couch. You let out a surprise squeal as he hoists you up and slings you over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, before placing a firm smack to your ass as he starts walking off toward Matts room.

“Where are we going” you giggle,lifting your head slightly to see Matts figure following closely behind

“We’re going to relieve all that stress of yours baby-“ Matt mumbles, wetting his bottom lip, his hand coming down to unbuckle his belt as he walks “-jus’ relax, we’re gonna take good care of you hmm?”

MASTERLIST LINKED HERE

[midnightshard06]

Sonic

Sonic grinned proudly. “Well Tails and me have been family for a long time now. Practically raised the kid myself heh. We’re close as you might expect. We also help keep each other in check. He, usually, keeps me from doing anything too reckless and I make sure he actually gets enough sleep and eats at least two meals a day.” He put his hands behind his head before a contemplative look came over his face. “If I have any blood related family out there I have no idea where they are. Not that I really care to find them anyway.” He put his hands down and shrugged. “Plus Shadow, and I guess Eclipse too, is in the picture now. Me and Shadow are on really good terms.” He chuckled. “Spending all that time helping him adjust to earth and doing my best to undo everything he’d been taught to think about himself helped with that. We’re… really close yeah.” A fond smile slipped onto his face for a moment before it slipped into a more cocky grin. “Eclipse is ok too. Fun to mess around with plus he makes a decent game partner when I can’t rope anyone else into it. He’s about just as competitive as me which makes it fun.”

Shadow

Shadow looked down for a moment before sighing. “Well not long after I was created I suppose I only considered Maria and perhaps Black Doom and some of the Black Arms my family. No one else at that point mattered to me. With Maria gone now though… well I find my family has expanded quite a bit. I think she would be happy to know that.” He cleared his throat. “Of course there is what is technically my biological family with Eclipse and the Black Arms. Eclipse is… a lot, but I am happy to have met him. Without his help I fear the confrontation with the Black Arms would have ended in tragedy. The Black Arms now look up to me like a leader, but I believe our relationship is positive.” He crossed his arms and scowled. “As for Black Doom… well he’s dead now so I suppose there’s not much of a point in speaking about him.” His ear twitched as his expression turned into something more neutral. “There’s also the Biolizard, which I suppose in a way could be considered my sibling as well. I… am doing my best to help them. Going back up to the Ark is hard though.”

His expression softened. “Then I suppose there’s Sonic and Tails. The two who took me in and took the time to help me.” He glanced around as if looking for something, or someone. “Sonic and I are very close. I admit I’m not sure what I would do without him at this point. His steady presence has helped me adapt much quicker I think. As well as realize some things.” He sighed. “Tails I’m far less close with but I still appreciate everything he’s done for me. I believe some of my lingering unease with the fox may be due to his connection with science. It… reminds me of the Ark. It’s something I’m working on though.”

Silver

“Oh! I’m really close with my family. Especially my parents.” Silver grinned. “I’m really grateful Sonic and Shadow decided to take me in when they found me all those years ago. It’s a little hard sometimes to get them to let me do things that might be dangerous, but I’ve been working on getting them to downplay their protective steaks for a while now.” He puffed his chest out. “Clearly it’s been working since they’ve let me start going to the past with Mephiles on a regular basis. Plus even before that they’d let me go out and scout the nearby ruins.” He tapped his chin. “There’s also uncle Eclipse. I don’t see him too often but Shadow likes to call him a bad influence on me. I think he’s fun.”

For characters!

If any of you have family, what's your family relationship like?

More character questions!!

[destielnoirbang]

Who Framed Sam Winchester?

By queerwerewolf | @queerwolf79 Art by anyrei | @anyreiart

Coming to Ao3 on 12/27/2024

Rated Explicit | 29,180 words | No Archive Warnings Apply

Down-on-his-luck private eye Cas Novak gets hired by Angelic Studios president, Nick Vaught, to investigate a scandal involving an infamous literary character (Lit), Dean Winchester, and Vaught’s primary nemesis, Fergus Crowley. A devilish producer and prop designer who has his hands in every movie studio in Los Angeles. Crowley’s prop factory shares a wall with Lit Town, and worse yet, he owns the contract for every Lit. Every contract, that is, except for brothers Sam and Dean Winchester from the Supernatural book series. When Crowley is found murdered, Sam Winchester becomes the primary suspect and goes on the run. The villainous Judge Edlund vows to catch and destroy Sam, having discovered a means of killing Lits with a substance known only as “Pulp”. Desperate to prove his brother’s innocence, Dean demands Cas help him find his brother before the Judge does. Despite vowing to never work with another Lit after his twin brother's murder, Cas agrees. With a contentious start to their working relationship, Dean Winchester and Cas Novak begin to uncover an ever growing nefarious plot. Can Cas and Dean put a stop to this evil ploy? And more importantly, will their attraction to each other get in the way of saving the day?

[Keep reading for a sneak preview!]

“Cigars? Cigarettes?”

When I turned, it was to come face to face with Dorian Gray. Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t aged a day in about a decade or so. Now whether that was because he was a Lit, or that damned portrait… His cobalt blue eyes rivaled my own, although, if I’m honest, his were always prettier. His curly blonde hair was coifed in a pompadour and his scarlet lips were curled in a hungry smile. He was dressed in a form-fitting pair of charcoal pants and an even tighter black t-shirt that left little to the queer imagination, carrying a tray of different smokes.

“Dorian, what are you doing here?”

With a wistful, overly dramatic sigh, Dorian pouted his plush lips and said, “Work’s been slow for those of us with a little more… culture.” Which meant with how many contemporary novels were capturing the attention of audiences, any Lits from the 19th century or earlier had to get creative to make a living. This suited Dorian, considering his nature. “But I’m still exquisitely tragic.”

With a soft laugh, I nodded, reveling in his beauty for a moment, although I was far too old for him now. “Yeah, you are.”

The lights started to dim and a spotlight shined on the closed curtains. I caught Crowley in my peripheral vision, straightening his tie and sitting upright. He even pulled out a small bottle of cologne, spraying it against his neck. It reeked of licorice and cloves, the breath of a child that got into his father’s cigarette case.

I turned to Dorian with a bemused expression. “What’s with him?”

Dorian smoothed out a nonexistent wrinkle on his pants with a shrug. “Oh, Mr. Crowley never misses a night when Dean performs.”

“Got a thing for Lits, huh?”

At that, Dorian gave me a pointed look. “If I recall, you did as well at one point.”

I cleared my throat and grabbed my drink, gulping down half of it at the implication, feeling a warmth at the memories that comment conjured. The crowd grew silent and the band could be heard from the pit, warming up their instruments. Then a familiar intro began, an infamously upbeat Cole Porter song that had been slowed down from a jazzy little jaunt to something sedated, steady, and sentimental. Just as a soft beat began, the curtains jostled and a leg popped out, bent at the knee in skin tight purple pants.

“We’re all alone… No chaperone… Can get our number… the world’s in slumber… ” A sultry, deep voice sang in a pleasant register, masterfully turning jazz to a ballad. The curtains parted and revealed one of the most breathtaking creatures I had ever seen in my life.

“Let’s misbehave…”

[moongumi]

⁀➷ ∵  ❝betrayal stings like a b*tch⁰²❞

⟶ simon 'ghost' riley x oc/reader

simon has to let the little thing holding him back go, the betrayal makes it easy but that doesn't mean it hurts any less.

⟶ cw. third person, angsty, betrayal, shadow!oc, relations with graves

⟶ note. yessir our girl's callsign is leech xd she has a good story behind why she was called that but it is the same OC in all the drabbles i write xx

he didn't expect to open up to anyone, especially not in the field—on the job. the strange girl he had been getting close to stands against him right behind the fucking devil himself.

"what? did you think she was one of you?"

graves' words stung a lot harder than he expected it to. his eyes were burning with hatred watching her stand there next to him like a good little pet.

1-3, leech. shadow company, american flag stitched on her flag uniform. how was he fooled?

she didn't even catch his eyes, he can't see her face under her blood stained mark. the blood of alejandro's people after they took fuerza especiales hq and betrayed task force 141 and the los vaqueros.

she doesn't even make a move when alejandro is captured and detained. soap gets shot and ghost makes his escape. he even had the nerve to look over at her, if she was alright. she just stands by him, nodding to his orders without even a shift in her eyes.

fucking traitor.

in las almas ghost was separated him soap, only managing to communicate with him through coms.

"why are you still here?" her voice, it hits him like dagger to the heart.

ghost turns to her instantly pointing his gun at her with the laser sight pointed right at her. she had her hands up, walking through the darkness with a knife in hand—fresh blood dripping from it.

"bored of killing innocents already?"

she shakes her head, "if you call the shadows innocent."

he didn't quite believe her just yet.

"it's dangerous, ghost."

ghost scoffs, still pointing his weapon at her. "for you."

"i'm not the one being hunted." she saunters towards him, unafraid of the consequences, he won't shoot her, she knew that.

she sighs, close enough to him to smack her hand against the barrel of the gun away from her direction. he gets the opening to toss his gun aside and grab her, tossing her agains the wall with his forearm pressed against her throat.

her helmet is off, and her heavy plates too, ghost eyes them before she replies to his silent questions. "quieter this way."

"you're here to kill me?"

she rolls her eyes, those orbs the only things visible under her half-mask and beanie. "if i was, you'd be dead."

"you think too highly of yourself."

she laughs, "a girl's gotta' be optimistic."

her laugher dies down when he presses his arm against her harder, taking her breath. she winces slightly at the pressure. her eyes start to water but she doesn't show weakness.

ghost gets close to her, his mask pressing against the side of her face. "why'd you do it?"

"he's my...boss." she words out through her struggled breaths.

"that all?"

she had the audacity to scoff, "you know the answer."

he knew the strange little relationship graves had with her, he didn't like it. he doesn't pry for more. when a tear slips down her face he pulls away.

she coughs catching her breath. "if i didn't know any better, i'd think you were tryin' to kill me."

"i should."

"but you won't."

she knew him well. from the short time they had together, he couldn't do it.

"get outta here." he orders, he's no longer her superior yet he can she stiffens at the tone.

she sighs, rubbing her hand over her face. "that's it?"

"what else?"

"not gonna' beg me to go with you?"

ghost scoffs, hearing the quiet voice of soap through his radio. "no."

she's still a traitor, the rest won't accept it and deep down he knew if he had folded over the gentleness and soft tone of her voice—her charming personality then price might kill her himself. a traitor to the force, she was apart of the group that went after a hit on the captain's team, he isn't going to forgive that—not easily.

"shadow 1-3, this is graves what is your position?"

"ghost—"

"you should answer that."

she nods, knowing that it was pretty much over. it hurts him to turn away from her, from the thought of what it could've been but he had to, he had a job to do.

[froggo-333]

ARCANE SPOILERS

sorry this is about to be longwinded asf but is anyone else kinda disappointed with the last arc. this is mostly gonna be about vi and jinx although i think them teasing sevika stuff but her showing up like twice and not saying shit was also weird. from the start i didn't like caitvi on like a yay shipping level but i didn't mind them that much. the lesbian situationship bit in the first two acts of season 2 were funny, i actually enjoyed it cause hey girl i've def been there before, but the third act is where i really begin having issues. at the start of the season vi becomes a cop. i know she is one in league but with the story in arcane it feels a little bit of an odd choice but i digress, its coming off like she once again is shouldering the blame for jinx. she is vi's problem. she is trying to fix things. obviously this doesn't work, cait starts changing, there is the whole isha protecting jinx moment (isha's character in gen), vi crashes out. the build up so far feels like vi and jinx are going to reconcile at least somewhat to have an understanding of each other, the crashout for vi aiding in this with vi completely changing and then starting to have an understanding of her sister. the vander and isha moment in ep 6 was what i thought to be the climax for this. then act three starts. we're in a different universe where vi is dead but everyone lives in the memory of her. jinx has a huge memorial and pink in her hair, vander has a vi tattoo, ekko paints the mural. we go back to our universe and vi is rightfully yelling at cait not mincing her words at all, sure cait explains herself but never once has she shown any change with her actual actions. Vi learns jinx turned herself in and later when she goes down to find jinx she sees her suicidal and depressed. when jinx tricks her and escapes locking vi in why, after cait gets vi out, does vi not go running after jinx? why does she proceed to have sex with cait randomly in the jail cell her sister was in???? the line of jinx "supporting" caitvi felt like she was bitter and added to her depressed state. remember she became jealous that vi showed up with cait in s1?? that should've been ekko AND vi saving jinx later on. whats the point of jinx coming back with a haircut JUST like vi's and with pink in her hair for barely anything. what was the point of any of this. it does an incredible disservice to vi and jinx as characters and their entire relationship. its weird after all this vi would go back to cait. the final line for them comes off soo unbelievably laughably classist after everything i legit have no words for that shit. "i am the dirt under your nails cupcake nothings gonna clean me out" to the upper class person whose family was gassing zaun and who knows what else historically we as the audience don't know. i simply just do not think a character that is supposed to be embodying the hardships of the zaun would do all that.

[yiiiiiiiikes25]

been cogitating on this for a minute. i'm irked by my own bottomless appetite for validation, but am deeply, deeply turned off by--like, experience visceral disgust and anxiety about--the notion that any praise i get could be pro forma or unearned. the idea that a reader owes an author anything at all makes me fucking itch. on the other hand--

i don't think this is a universal truth and i don't know how @gallusrostromegalus (sorry you're out here catching strays) intended this term, but "social recognition euphoria" is a useful one, imo. here's how i think of it--

that's social recognition euphoria, or it's how i use the term: something about who i am and something about who you are led us to this strip of sidewalk, where we recognized each other. what a fucking joy, or per @kamaela, magic. hats here could be same appetites, same characterizations, same aesthetics, same perversions, same...whatever you've got. i jumped fandoms because i same-hatted so hard with @garagepaperback on the basis of her lateral mind for language and the ambition in her writing.

it's sour, to me, that we call stats 'engagement,' especially kudos. @eleadore's callout re: conflation of attention and community is completely on the money, but i want to go a step further--let's picture kudos as a little public 'cool hat' tally. 'cool hat,' though, isn't necessarily 'same hat.' 'cool hat' is transactional, quantitative instead of qualitative, flattening--and perfectly nice, as long as you don't then wander the neighborhood checking out everybody else's tally. i think a lot of us do, myself included, and that is a bummer. (i'm personally curious whether kudos have a homogenizing effect on the kind of stuff we all make as we respond to the natural impulse to craft popular hats.)

so, the attention/community divide: inasmuch as i have a point here (do i?), what i think a lot of us are hungry for is a fuckin' hat discussion. the degree to which community nourishes us, the factor that makes it durable and personal and meaningful, hinges on the depth and specificity of recognition communicated in the "same hat" moment we're offered. it is fundamentally qualitative, not quantitative. it nourishes in a way a kudos count can't and shouldn't. it's why, for instance, a cheerleader-librarian like @kamaela or @sitp-recs ends up being glue for community, absolutely vital connective tissue.

to be clear, we aren't owed this nourishment--nobody asked us for these fucking hats, dude--but we are for sure going for a lot of walks in interesting headgear, or to ape @garagepaperback's metaphor, leaving a lot of signed hat piles lying around in a public hat archive. if the social recognition euphoria didn't mean anything to us i'd bet we'd largely keep our hats in our houses. if we're counting the social recognition euphoria we've lost our way a little bit, because it's not a countable thing.

i think what many of us aren't saying is that we hope, in a secret and shameful way, that our stats will function as tangible social proof: we wear the hat everyone likes best, and we made it ourselves. our hat is exceptional. we are exceptional. this is a bummer of a hope; regardless, we lay our hat carefully in the public hat archive; we check, privately and obsessively, as we let go of the idea that our hat will be the one hat to rule them all, whether our hat is even as good as everyone else's. what an exceptionally lonely thing. i'd like to do less of it.

not for nothing, in the course of developing co-writing and editing relationships, my crew's come up with a phrase for the deepest form of same-hatting: 'wet brain,' as in pressing our wet brains together, as though these same-hat boys took off their hats and then their hair and scalps and skulls and sat together to create. i would imagine that there are huge appetites for structures and practices in fandom that make that kind of intimacy, that heroin-shot of social recognition euphoria, easier for newcomers to find.

re - your last post, as a writer i find that to be an absurd take. people who write exclusively for validation probably shouldn't. if discovering your work is enjoyed and loved - just privately - is a dealbreaker for you, i think there are probably bigger issues that need to be worked through. the idea that we write fic for free and yet this discussion about "payment" through kudos/comments persists is so backwards and obnoxious.

sorry to tag you on this, obv you have nothing to do with op, but i just wanted to say - as a writer recs are a HUGE deal. to know that you liked something enough to share it with others is the biggest compliment for me personally. thanks for doing what you do.

I’m happy you reached out because this is a really interesting perspective. I definitely see increased messaging around comments = payment that pressures readers into thinking they are required to leave comments, and I agree that there are many layers in this convo that point out to a not-so-healthy relationship with fandom.

I find it hard to join this discussion not being an author myself, because I only have the privileged perspective. Ofc I understand how important feedback can be to boost newcomers and those who don’t feel part of the community. We all deal with insecurity in different ways and it’s hard to navigate a big fandom when you don’t have a group of friends to rely on. In the end the fandom experience is about a sense of belonging and it saddens me to realize that I might be part of the problem since my recs only reach Tumblr and my ao3 comments are far and few in between.

It’s funny because my blog has always targeted other readers: at the beginning I didn’t even tag authors and did not expect them to find or engage with my posts. Over the years the recs became more and more personal, until I realized I was writing them for myself. Sure, they are love letters to the fic and might help more people find them, but at the end of the day this is my little therapy corner where I can let go and babble around to my heart’s content 🙏🏼 I’ve always been proud of this blog and seeing that post gave me mixed feelings about it for the first time, so thank you for your message!

Again, I think this discussion has many layers and I’m a bit wary to get involved being a humble reader, but I’d be curious to see how others feel about it…

[qwardivior]

DEMON BUSTERS!! — About Nezuko

Next Part>>

<<Previous Part

And so, the long awaited Nezuko post has arrived!!! Sorry for the long wait everyone, I had to work out some lore stuff and this kept getting delayed, so let’s just get right into it! In case you don’t know or need a refresher, in this modern kny au the Demon Slayer Corps has updated and rebranded into the Demon Busters! People have been dying to demon attacks at alarming rates so to make their jobs easier they’ve been running ad campaigns! However this installment is a little different as this is NOT an ad campaign! To protect Nezuko they did not run an ad campaign on her. Instead, this is known as an ‘about’. Several other characters will be getting an about section but let’s start with our favorite girl Nezuko!

— Lore Dump Incoming!!—

In this au, Nezuko got turned on her birthday. It was supposed to be a fun celebration, she would spend the night at her friends’ house and then go home the next morning to help her family prepare for New Years. Of course when the day actually came, there were complications as Tanjirou would not let her go for whatever reason, stating that he had a “bad feeling” about it. But nothing ever happens in their small town! In fact, the biggest event in a long while was their father’s death a couple months prior. Eventually, after some back and forth they just chalked it up to him being paranoid and she was able to go.

It wasn’t just paranoia. Nobody knew that anything was wrong until the next morning. Tanjirou had gone to pick Nezuko up since nobody had heard anything from her, and was met with a gruesome sight. Just like in canon, Nezuko was the only survivor, but she seemed to be a little off… Firstly, she had tried to attack Tanjirou before quickly coming to her senses after a man called Giyuu Tomioka appeared, stating that he was a “Demon Buster” and she was a “demon” and that he had to slay her. And secondly she no longer had a taste for human food and just slept all the time! Luckily, nobody was slayed, and the siblings were instructed to find a man named Sakonji Urokodaki, Tomioka’s teacher. But they couldn’t just leave! Not after everything. So they came to an agreement: because Nezuko was able to quell her hunger and more or less function like a normal human, the two would go home for now, and then Tomioka would come to pick them up at a later date. As it turned out, in order for Nezuko to get her humanity back, she’d have to become a “Demon Buster”. A perfect way to bring in the new year..

In this au Nezuko keeps her humanity and is more of her own person. This makes it easier for her to get around and get info from other demons easier. She also conquers the sun slightly earlier, but we’ll get to that later. She wasn’t able to really show herself to her family that often until she was able to learn how to disguise herself from none other than Yushiro. Her having a sense of self and a personality separate to Tanjirou also allows for them to go their separate ways a bit more. Of course they stick together but it’s not like Nezuko is bound to the box. They have missions that sometimes requires Tanjirou to go completely solo, thus Nezuko is left to her own devices.

Overall, I really want to explore Nezuko’s character more and there’s so much more to her than what can be explained in a single post. I guess you’ll just have to tag along to find out more huh? This will also allow me to expand more on her relationship in regards to Zenitsu. In canon, it seemed a little one-sided since we weren’t able to get Nezuko’s point of view, but in this au I want to show more mutual interest so it doesn’t come off as weird as it did in canon. This also allows her to make her own friends (read: Muichirou, Senjurou, Genya, and more). Nezuko is a very fun character to explore in this au and I can’t wait to show you guys more!

Also did I mention that a lower moon is seeking to kill her? No? Oh, my bad.

———

Hey! Thanks for sticking around. Sorry this one took a while! After this we will most likely be getting Tamayo and Yushiro!! Inosuke and Kanao will have to wait a little bit longer because I still have to figure out things lore/design wise. As for Hashira, the next one will either be Giyuu or Shinobu! That’s all for now and thanks for all the support on this au!! Feel free to ask me about anything lore-related! I’ll see you in the next one!

[cigsaftersuh]

૮ trapped ྀིა .ᐟ

without another word, jaehyun turned and walked out of the living room, the sound of his footsteps heavier than they’d ever been. his shoulders were tight, and his breathing shallow, a mix of frustration and the overwhelming sting of everything jia had spewed out about his marriage.

“honestly, this is what happens when you rush into marriage,” she said, shaking her head. “he’s so young, so naive. getting married at his age was such a reckless decision. i don’t understand why you both allowed it.”

“allowed it?” jaehyun’s dad scoffed, his tone sharp. “jia, they’re adults. it wasn’t our decision to make, it was theirs. and you know what? they’ve been doing just fine.”

“fine?” jia’s voice pitched incredulously. “you think this is fine? him storming out like that? he can barely handle a conversation. he’s too young to carry the weight of a marriage, and y/n isn’t helping matters by running off with her friends every chance she gets.”

his dad’s jaw tightened, but he kept his tone measured. “there’s nothing wrong with y/n spending time with her friends. she has every right to maintain her relationships outside of her marriage — just like jaehyun does. that’s how healthy relationships work.”

jia rolled her eyes, setting her cup down with a clink. “healthy relationships? please. they’ve barely lived life on their own. how can you call it healthy when they’ve never even experienced life apart? they’re just clinging to some childhood fantasy, and one day, it’s going to fall apart. mark my words.”

“that’s enough,” his mom snapped, her voice finally rising. “you don’t get to come into our home and tear apart our son’s life like this. jaehyun and y/n have built something solid, something real, and your constant need to belittle them says more about you than it does about them.”

but jia wasn’t finished. “oh, come on,” she said, rolling her eyes. “i’m not the bad guy here. i’m just pointing out the obvious. you let him get married too young. you let him tie himself down to someone who clearly doesn’t know what it means to be a wife yet. and now look at him, storming out of the room because he can’t handle the truth.”

“stop,” jaehyun’s dad said firmly, his voice rising. “he walked out because he’s tired of you tearing apart his life, we all are. this isn’t about honesty… it’s is about you trying to pick apart something you don’t understand.”

leaning against the hallway wall, jaehyun ran a hand through his hair. the weight of the argument taking place on the other side allowed him to hear each of the harsh words leaving the elders mouths.

did i trap her? the thought struck like a hammer, unrelenting in its force. is this what she really wants? he stared blankly ahead as the questions churned in his mind. you were out with your friends right now, probably laughing and enjoying yourself, while he was in here, replaying every word jia had thrown at him. what if she feels like she’s missing out because of me?

his throat tightened, and a lump formed he couldn’t swallow. this isn’t fair to her. maybe jia’s right... maybe we should’ve waited. maybe i should’ve given her more time to just... be her. the guilt coiled tightly around his chest, squeezing until he could barely breathe. he blinked rapidly, but the tears blurred his vision before he could stop them.

she deserves so much more than this... more than me. his jaw clenched as the thought lingered, cutting deeper each time it resurfaced. he hated the effect jia’s words had on him, how they planted seeds of doubt where there had been none before. but the guilt wouldn’t let him push it away.

he sat there, lost in his own thoughts and fighting back tears, when he suddenly heard the faint jingle of your keychains against the doorknob.

against the doorknob to his house, yet everyone knew you were always welcome. you would always be welcome, in his home, his heart, anywhere pertaining to him.

it was a sound he knew too well, one that he’d grown used to and always brought him comfort. no one else would ever make that sound at this door. only you, his wife,

the familiar noise made his heart beat faster, and before he could even register the moment, the door creaked open. he didn’t need to look up to know it was you.

the warmth of your presence flooded him like a wave, but the storm of emotions crashing inside him only grew stronger. his stomach twisted, guilt and doubt churning inside.

prev. 𐙚 next

ㅡ my forever only.

with love,

© cigsaftersuh

ʚ taglist - open ɞ

@cstarry @hyuckleberriii @beacauseimmaya @jeongjaeleftbicep @lesuneczka @cryingforjae @ctrlstar @youaremysecretworld @douqhnxtss @dearlyminhyung @jaemnationnn @jaeyunluvbot @nonverdolly

[andorology]

Sanguinity: Chapter 5 a rebelcaptain regency au

An unexpected arrival of an equally unexpected letter. With no intention to prolong the curiosity it had stirred in her, Jyn hurried to pluck the wax seal and unfold the paper.

Whatever she felt just moments ago, it seemed to now have doubled, if not tripled.

______

Jyn receives a letter from out of the blue, and her relationship with the Andors is about to take a turn. Will it be for better or for worse?

Read Chapter 5 of Sanguinity below the cut, or check it out on ao3! Rating T.

When the day of Jyn’s first expedition around the estates with Kerri came, the heavens, to her delight, endowed its favor for their endeavor; the sun filtered through the cloudy canopy like tendrils of warmth, animating everything it touched with vigored life. From her window Jyn witnessed the daisies’ and cowslips’ slow bloom, the cool air moving through their quietude in whispers of the gentlest kind. The birds sang, and along with it Jyn’s spirits; she was ready for the day.

She was to expect Kerri’s arrival to Vallt Park by mid-morning. During the wait she spent some time writing about her new interest—a short history of Spanish hardwood species, for which she had made considerable progress, and in such a state of concentration that she hadn’t noticed how much it had eaten away at the hours before the anticipated activity. 

She found, however, even as the clock had already struck the awaited hour, that her companion still had not arrived. She decided to give her some more time, and wait by milling about the gardens. 

She let the petals of various flowers brush past her hand as she passed by them, their pleasant smells tickling her nose in a harmony of scents. When she reached a corner in the path, she knelt by a trimmed rose bush to examine one of its flowers being crushed under the weight of heavy, entangled brambles. 

As she began to gently pull on its stem, a movement towards the house caught her eye. 

There, through the foliage, she saw one of her household’s footmen walk towards the staff’s door, the day’s letters stuffed in a satchel that hung around his body. He was unassuming in stature; Jyn paid him no mind—she did not currently expect correspondence from anybody. When she returned to her attempt to break the rose free, she had even already forgotten about him. 

At that point the sun now radiated warmer, and Jyn’s doubt for Kerri’s arrival, which still did not happen, had now also grown more certain. She looked at the horizon and hoped to see her friend’s figure emerge somewhere along it. It didn’t.

Just then, the very same footman from a while ago appeared out of the door yet again. Jyn watched him head towards her direction, a tray in his hand, a lone piece of paper on its surface. 

“Miss Erso,” he called out as he descended the stone steps towards where she was on the pebbled path. “A letter.”

“For me?” asked Jyn. With hesitation she received the folded and sealed parchment from its vessel. Flipped over, it bore a delicate penmanship that spelled out her name and nothing more. Confused, she looked at the footman. “Where is it from?”

“Lah’mu Hall, Miss.”

Jyn frowned. “The Andors?” 

“Yes, Miss.”

Sweat began forming on Jyn’s palms, for a reason she did not really know. “I see,” she said. “Thank you.” 

An unexpected arrival of an equally unexpected letter. With no intention to prolong the curiosity it had stirred in her, Jyn hurried to pluck the wax seal and unfold the paper. 

Whatever she felt just moments ago, it seemed to now have doubled, if not tripled.

It was a letter from Kerri herself, and it read:

Dear Ms. Jyn Erso,

I am sorry to write to you that I cannot come today and join you in your walk. I know that we have entered, with utmost excitement, into this undertaking of ours—you keeping a record of every plant species you could possibly find, and I sketching them for your journals—which must make this news disappointing for you to read, as much as it has been for me to write it. 

But, as things would have it, I feel even more regret to impart something that I am now to do, and which, I am afraid, you may not forgive me for. 

From this point on, I am withdrawing myself entirely, not only from our activities, but from your company now as well. I am truly sorry to say this, Ms. Erso, but we can no longer be friends.

I know—some questions must go through your head at this moment; I understand the suddenness, and even the shock, with which this information has reached you, and for this, I at least owe you an explanation:

Ever since our calling upon you and your family a couple of days ago, my brother Cassian has been in a state of quiet unrest. He had already been somewhat sullen prior, ever since our attendance at Mr. Rook’s ball, but it seems to be our visit at Vallt Park which has finally aggravated it to the degree which I now speak of.

The most notable attribute of this unrest was his near-constant questioning of how I have been treated by you; in times more than I would normally expect him to, he asked about your character, Ms. Erso, and if you are a worthy friend. It struck me as odd. When I finally assured him of your goodwill towards me, however, he told me that he was not convinced, and nor should I be. 

I had nothing but endless questions. Here he finally expressed to me the nature of his feelings, which in turn, informed his strange disposition for the past fortnight. And I found out, to my extreme surprise, that you, Ms. Erso, have been their source and object! 

I asked him to clarify; obligingly and unhesitatingly, he listed out, to the most emphatic degree, the reasons why you seem to bother him. I have debated whether I should even mention what these specific reasons are to you, but I find that I must if I am to fully explain myself, so now I will: 

Cassian thinks you arrogant, spoiled, and, in his own words, “possess a spirit of the most feeble and vacillating nature.” I have expressed my indignation when he first conveyed these to me, and still to this moment I think these accusations to be baseless and untrue—you have witnessed how much I have enjoyed our friendship so far, have you not, Ms. Erso? So imagine how much it came to me as a surprise to hear them come out from my brother’s mouth, which I had hoped, from the first, would only speak well of you!

I have stated my reasons against this belief of his; but he is forthright and insistent in promoting them to me, upon the accounts of the encounters we both have had with you. He has argued against my disinclinations with the strongest conviction; he is so sure of it, Ms. Erso, and has appealed for my acquiescence to his reason. 

This has become a point of disagreement for the both of us within the last few days. Though I cannot fully grasp the sense with which he has put forth his argument, I have begun, nonetheless, to feel compelled to see it. For it struck me with such shock to see him so earnestly desperate, and so desperately earnest in his manner. He has shown a kind of acute temperament which, if I may say so, he has so rarely shown to me; I have only witnessed it so few times in my life. 

Whenever it occurred, I would know in an instant that he was absolutely serious about it. And so I have grown to believe that his reasons for whatever he feels now—they are motivated by true concern and no hidden malice. 

Here I must now appeal to you , Ms. Erso. I hope you do not see this decision of mine as a result of me just blindly agreeing to my brother, nor do I hope, upon my taking his side, that you view this as my neglect of the kindness I have so far received from you. I acknowledge all of it, and am grateful you have chosen to make a friend out of me—truly. 

But I implore you to know that I make this choice because my brother and I have been through thick and thin our entire lives—just him and me. He trusts me as much as I trust him, and where I know he would, on the first chance, seek my advice and heed it, I know that I can also do the same to his. 

I only truly regret what it is at the expense of. 

Please accept my deepest apologies, and I wish you well. 

Yours kindly, Kerri Andor

The feelings that entered Jyn’s heart as she read through the contents of this letter budded to a strong anger, and she felt her grip slowly tighten on the paper—a thing she did not realize she was doing until the edges had finally crumpled into her fist. 

It was true, the pain of this letter’s injury seemed to come from Kerri’s choice to forsake her, but she realized, as she later reflected on it in the privacy of her bedchamber, that she ultimately did not find too much fault in her. Kerri had been nothing but kind, first for extending the courtesy of letting her know of the termination of their acquaintance, and, more notably, for even making excuses on behalf of her brother’s antagonistic behaviors.

So no, the anger Jyn felt now was not in any way directed towards Kerri, but towards the influence under which she felt compelled to make the decision. The nerve of her brother—the absolute nerve! Jyn had no other way of putting it; she truly disliked Cassian Andor now. First for reproaching her character, which on its own, was already a grievous offense, and now for reproaching it again more injuriously in front of her friend, his sister! 

He was absolutely and irredeemably contemptible.

These thoughts and feelings cycled themselves anew at every possible moment, and yet Jyn’s turmoil, she realized, was not so fully fixed on her adversary; Jyn felt its intensity to be even greater whenever she thought of the most unfortunate consequence of their hostilities: the loss of a potential friend. 

In lieu of this adverse turn of events, her current spirits for her studies were now effectively extinguished. All around her too, the scene had turned sour; the breeze felt too cold, the sun too hot, the birdsong too loud. None of it tempted her to inquiry and exploration; instead, she spent the rest of the day in her bedchamber, lying limp on her bed. 

But even doing nothing would soon not help her restlessness, either. So by the time the afternoon approached twilight, Jyn put on her riding gown, strapped on her muddied boots, and hurried to the stables to ride out on her horse. 

For a while the movement did her spirits good. She momentarily let her mare run off to its own will, allowing the freedom to thrill her to a state of elation. 

She did not notice, however, that during all this, her horse had led her to the crest of the low hill that separated Vallt Park and Lah’mu’s lands. She only realized it until her childhood home came into distant view, at which she yanked the reins in a sudden panic, forcefully putting her horse to a halt.

Once still, she sighed in relief. As she gathered her breath in a quick repose, she found herself looking at the house again, standing tall yet lonely across the empty grassy field. A timid melancholy gripped her soul as she beheld its sight.

A movement from its side caught her attention, and she found, after squinting, that it was undoubtedly the figure of Cassian Andor himself, walking along the side path towards the courtyard out front. 

Jyn again felt her anger rise; and yet, she found herself staring.

That was when Cassian seemed to have noticed Jyn herself, for he stopped in his tracks and faced himself towards her direction. 

It was a strange moment—for a while it would seem that they were both just staring at each other. 

But a wind blew past Jyn, effectively stirring her out of it. In an instant, she urged her horse back into motion again.

From where he stood in front of Lah’mu Hall, Cassian looked at her still. He did not stop, even after she had already descended to the cover of the hills.

A couple of days passed since, during which Jyn had begun to do her best to continue the life she had lived before the Andors came into it. It was not much different, she realized, for she still did the same things—read, write, and explore.

Writing, however, was something she had begun doing more—she continued to work on her piece on her history of hardwoods.

Today Mr. and Mrs. Erso had to leave to make some arrangements to one of their farms, up in the north of the country. This left Vallt Park entirely to Jyn’s whim, though she did not do anything much to do this advantage; she was too engrossed in her writing to do anything else. 

By the waiting room window where she usually sat, she had been scribbling in solitude, her back and neck hunched over a stack of papers, when suddenly a footman (coincidentally, the same one who had delivered her the letter a few days ago) entered to inform her of the quick, unplanned arrival of a visitor. 

Soon the visitor in question appeared through the doorway, the sight of whom made Jyn’s skin crawl. 

“Mr. Cassian Andor, Miss,” announced the footman, before leaving them alone.

Cassian scanned the place, his eyes widening at the sight of only Jyn being there.

Jyn gave her unwelcome visitor a glare. She put her papers aside and stood up. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

Cassian kept a straight face. “I was expecting to see your father, but I shall come back when he is here. Good day, Miss Erso.”

He was already turning on his heel when Jyn said, “I see your family’s quest for avoiding me is still very well in place.”

Cassian stared at her silently for a few seconds too long. “I do not know what you are talking about.” 

 Jyn scoffed. “Spare yourself this charade—I already know what you did. Your sister told me—she sent me a letter. Or did you not know?” 

Cassian did not respond.

A dry chuckle escaped Jyn’s mouth. “Miss Andor. I truly feel bad for her. It is clear to me that she really values your opinion, and here you’ve gone and disused it against me.” 

Cassian looked at her questioningly, his gaze sharp as a dagger. “Is that how you really see it, Miss Erso?”

The provocation compelled Jyn to step around the table and towards the middle of the room. Her voice raised, she answered, “Yes, Mr. Andor. You have deprived me of friendship—deprived her of friendship. And for what?” 

“It is not so much deprivation,” replied Cassian, “as it is an escape from her doomed affections for you.”

A quiet gasp left Jyn’s mouth. “You astound me. You know, I would have been able to live with your animosity, but what you’ve done—involving your sister into it—it signifies your cowardice. And for that I do not think I can forgive you.”

Cassian’s face formed into a sharp grimace.

“If you truly hate me,” said Jyn, her eyes piercing his, “do it yourself.”

Taking long, swift strides, Cassian met her in the middle of the room. “I merely told her what she ought to know,” he said in a quiet but intense manner, “and done as she ought with that knowledge she did.” 

“That I am arrogant, spoiled, and spineless? What fantasies you must have concocted in your own head to truly believe those things about me, Mr. Andor. And you’ve discerned that from what, our quick introduction and our subsequent meeting? From that you have gravely misjudged my character, and it baffles me so that you are so assured of its truth, when you do not even know me!” 

Cassian scoffed. “I know you well enough, all right. The things you said to my sister during our visit in this very same room were enough, notwithstanding the rest. Yes,” he added when he noticed the stunned look on Jyn’s face, “I heard all of it, and not with any effort of trying, for you were not being as discreet as you thought you were.” 

Jyn put her chin up in defiance. “That is a useless charge, for I did not say anything wrong.” 

“Really?” challenged Cassian. “What about the fact that you wish to marry Mr. Krennic merely for the advantage of his wealth?” He laughed dryly. “I suppose I should not be surprised that you are indifferent to the folly of it, for you are just like every other person of your station.”

“My station?” It took Jyn a few seconds to truly register the accusation being made against her. She blinked rapidly. “Am I right in hearing that you are reproaching me for entering a marriage for what it commonly is among women like me, an economic proposition? Why should I be exempt from this? This is preposterous—you’re a solicitor, you should know better!”

“Oh I couldn't care less that you would marry for that reason, Miss Erso!” Cassian matched her volume. “But you have done so in abandon of a long-held principle.”

Jyn frowned. “What—”

“For someone who wishes to staunchly excuse herself from the institution for her education and freedom, you certainly resigned yourself to Mr. Krennic willingly the moment it promised monetary benefit for you.”

Jyn tried to speak again—

“Your inconstancy to your principles suggests to me that you have never truly adhered to them in the first place. I can never witness my sister, or anybody I care for really, to maintain friendships with the sort of people.”

Jyn’s mouth hung open, feeling the censure hit her harder than she would have liked it to. She heard it echo all the way through the back of her head, traveling down to the hollows of her gut, making her squeamish. She felt her pulse quicken. 

She clenched her body to discipline, fighting the urge to show any sign of her current emotion. 

“You do not know me,” she said. “You do not know why I do not want to get married, or why I do . Frankly, it is none of your business. What do you know of my situation to quickly deduce the issue as a matter of my inconstancy, of my poor character? Here is my question to you, Mr. Andor: do you think we all have the privilege to do as we wish to?” 

Cassian shook his head disapprovingly. “Do not speak to me of privilege, Miss Erso.” 

“Oh I will,” said Jyn, “for it is the very thing that gives you leave to speak over me as you now do. Did it never occur to you that I have no other choice but to marry for wealth?”

Cassian’s expression did not change.

“Is this what it is?” Jyn proceeded. “You scorn me for choosing to not die a destitute? Must I suffer through life to prove myself worthy of your regard? This is incredibly high levels of self-importance, Mr. Andor. I do not need your esteem.”

Cassian’s face contorted in disgust. “Nor I am not trying to give it. And do not attempt to garner my pity because you feel like you do not have a choice but to marry a powerful Krennic, Miss Erso, a baron to be with 12,000 pounds a year.”

“And I am not trying to! It would take the last person on earth to perish before I would even begin to seek yours .” Jyn shook her head. “And what is your issue with Mr. Krennic? Why does it matter to you that it is him whom I choose to marry?”

She searched Cassian’s face; his expression did not falter under her scrutiny. It only seemed to glower more intensely upon her asking the question—a question which he did not respond to.

“You can’t answer me, can you?” said Jyn. “For you have no good reason—for any of it.” 

Cassian took a step closer towards her. “Why, Miss Erso?” he challenged. “Will it even matter to you if I did?”

A shaky breath suddenly escaped Jyn’s mouth. She blinked.

Then she shook her head and attempted to walk away in her frustration, but soon found herself facing him back. “I had supposed you could stand to reason, Mr. Andor. Of all things, I at least hoped your hostility would grant me that grace. But it is clear to me now that you are averse to it, not because you do not have the ability, but because you do , and yet you refuse to. That is all the worse to me! And you say I’m just like every other person of my class? Have you looked at yourself? You’re practically the same—you are just like every other genteel person that has ever been, especially the ones you detest.”

Cassian stepped even closer. “Am I, Miss Erso?”

“You are,” Jyn replied. “You may not have not been born into your status and wealth, but that does not make much of a difference now to me.” She cocked her head in mock inquisitiveness. “Is that not why you bought a part of my father’s estate, and are now even considering retiring from your occupation—to become a part of all of this?”

Cassian’s expression took on a look of indignance. 

“For all I know, Mr. Andor,” Jyn said, finding satisfaction in it, “you already are. You are now a part of the same brood which you criticize me for. You are just like everyone else—just like me. Gentlemen and ladies who play and scheme and make alliances to build their own wealth.”

Cassian’s expression hardened, his sharp gaze boring into Jyn’s eyes. She steeled herself. 

“Clearly, Miss Erso,” he said quietly, “the books you read haven’t done you justice. Such a shame—all that reading, and yet no amount of knowledge has yet to cure your narrow view of the world. You attempt to insult me, that much is clear, but you do not even know what you are saying.”

Jyn relented with a lethargic shrug. “I suppose that makes both of us, when you first insulted me.” 

The lines of Cassian’s scowl deepened. Jyn’s heart raced. They both watched each other silently, unable to get a read of what went in each other’s minds. 

After a few moments, she finally said, “Is there anything else you would like to tell me about my character, Mr. Andor, in my own home?” 

She stepped closer to look up at Cassian’s face. His expression slightly faltered at this move, but in only such a brief moment in time. After a few seconds of their stewing in this heated silence, the solicitor finally stepped back.

“Good day, madam.”

Jyn did not reply to this and only averted her gaze. Cassian began to walk away. 

When he disappeared out of the door, Jyn finally let out the guttural and shaky sigh that had been building up in her chest since he’d arrived. 

As she shut her eyes in the middle of the room, she felt her heart sink to depths she hadn’t known existed before. Her soul wore heavy upon her body, and yet the fiery tongues of her anger burned it so hot she felt it surface to her face.

Gathering her wits, she finally walked back to the window where she had left her papers. Soon enough, through the glass pane, she saw Cassian emerge from the house below, his steps quick and light as he hurried back to his carriage. 

Jyn did not watch him leave this time; before the carriage door even closed on him, she had already twisted on her heel and walked to her bedchamber.

[sassmill]

My mom has historically not given me birthday gifts (growing up this was because she would let me do whatever I wanted for a birthday party, and since then it’s because she helped me pay for college or would take me to see a show etc) but my birthday is tomorrow and she just asked me “so… would you like a dress form for your birthday??”

Yes yes I would!!!

[deconstructthesoup]

The parallel of Simon forgetting Betty as a result of going mad and Betty going mad as a result of not being able to forget Simon and yet both of their insanity manifests in an inherent obsession with the other will continue to make me lie awake at night

[uncanny-tranny]

Hi! would you by any chance have tips on how to get a binder when your parents refuse to buy you one? ☹️

That's definitely a sensitive and complex answer, and while I might not know of the best option for your unique situation, there are some ways you can go about this.

If it's a foregone conclusion that you cannot convince them of this, what I used to do is DIY my binder. The ways I primarily did this were:

Option One: Wearing a camisole that was one size smaller than I actually was (so, wearing a small instead of a medium, for instance), then folding it up over my chest. As a disclaimer, this may only work well if you are smaller in the chest

Option Two: Layering two sports bras in my size over each other. Some of the DIY tips I found before I got a traditional binder advised to wear one sports bra in your size, then wear another sports bra backwards in a size smaller. I would advise against this for potential safety reasons, but also because (at least personally), it can be ineffective and a waste of resources.

Some people have also had friends or other family members order their binder for them, but this can be risky, depending on your situation. While I don't know the ins and outs of your specific circumstances, risk management is important to me, so I would recommend this if it is a risk that is acceptable to make.

I understand what it's like to not have access to this resource, so what I will do is advise you against:

Binding with ace bandages (I did this before (multiple times, in fact, because of dysphoria), and believe me, not only did it hurt like hell, but it constricted my body so heavily that I may have done long-term harm)

Wearing a DIY binder (or any kind, for that matter) for longer than your body can handle

Doing DIY in such a way that even mimics binding with ace bandages. This means that your binder shouldn't constrict your ribs, breathing, or range of movement

Here are some general good practices that you should use to guide you for any type of binding, whether traditional or DIY:

When you start binding, only do so in very short sessions to begin with. While binding shouldn't outright hurt, it can be a weird transition while your body is getting used to that new sensation

Minimize heavy lifting or exercise while binding. If it is unavoidable, drink plenty of water and take plenty of breaks

Stretch after binding

Don't bind while sick or have inflammation in your lungs or chest

If you DIY, treat your binder like it is a traditional binder. Don't make the mistake of assuming you don't need to listen to your body because you aren't using a "traditional" binding method

Ultimately, listen to your body. If it is telling you that it needs a break, honour that. Your body isn't punishing you, it is trying to keep you (and it) safe, even if it doesn't feel like it

In the end, this isn't perfect. Sometimes, parents do come around, even in their own ways, even if little by little, they come around. When I first came out officially around 2016, I was convinced that my transition would be completely forbade by my family; I concealed a lot of it in the worst instances of this. However, now, I think most of my family has come through their own journey with the understanding of the reality of what and who I am. I tell you this, anon, because I want you to know that this, too , shall pass. You can make it. I know this might be devastating to you, and believe me, I know what that's like. But it won't be forever. These bridges aren't burnt forever, and I hope you can find your happiness and contentment wherever it may be.

[moodyseal]

It's sad that after all that's happened (and even after he said he'd rather die than turn to Zeus for help) Apollo still prays to his father first when faced with immediate danger

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

Hi hello I watched all of carmilla in a weekend when I was 17 because a student teacher who in retrospect I had a bit of a crush on mentioned that she knew one of the actresses. also I am pretty invested in all your recent vampire stuff because I watched iwtv in 2 days last week because your edit intrigued me

oh hiiii 🫶 thank you for indulging me. thats so cool that you watched iwtv! did it live up to the expectation?

i also watched carmilla at 17! or like, 17-19. i found it when s2 had just started and followed it to the end. did something permanent to my brain but i think it was a good thing. on rewatch now im like, i was right to like this. like it's a solid show, it's good. it has its flaws obviously but it's well written, the emotional moments still get me, i can see why i liked it and i still like it now even when it's not anymore, you know, meeting every need that baby gay me didnt even know they had

what it doesnt reaallyy do though - i dont remember if i posted abt this or if i left it in my drafts but - is explore vampirism as a concept. their subject matter is more lesbianism than vampirism. which is great! thats what they wanted to do and they did it and it's very good. but reading interview with the vampire the book rn im realising how much potential vampires have to be metaphors for like so many things and i started wondering like 'wait, did carmilla just not really engage with it or did it all go over my head'. but it just didnt really engage with it all that much. which again is fine bc that wasnt what they were doing. im glad they were more about the lesbianism than the vampirism

but there's this interesting difference in framing, because in iwtv they keep calling armand 'ancient' right? and emphasising how old he is. and he's like 500? and i was like 'wait isnt carmilla like 400?'. she isnt, shes 340, but still, thats getting there, you know? and we know quite a lot about her history, but kind of just the Big Events. when she was turned, the events of the novella, coffin of blood, silas. thats sort of what we know. but none of the long lonely slog of history day to day you know? with armand i feel like we can really feel how much time everything takes. how every one of those years is made up of single days. with carmilla i dont feel that as much. i keep kind of thinking about daniel, when louis calls him a boy in the first episode, saying "im an old man, with all the triggers that come with it"

because carmilla might look 18 (or mid twenties at this point) but she has lived all that time. shes also seen her native land be claimed by like a succession of ruling powers, right? like armand. shes been buried alive, like louis. when lestat is born, shes already 80 years old, shes lived a whole human lifetime, and the entire adult part of it shes been a vampire. shes lived through 1680-1870 being a lure. i compared her to abigail hobbs in some tags on a post, i dont know if youre familiar with hannibal the tv show, but i do also kinda keep thinking about that comparison

if youre not familiar, in the first episode of hannibal the murderer of the week is this guy garrett jacob hobbs who kills and cannibalises girls who resemble his daughter. and later on it turns out she was made to be his lure. like they'd go places and he'd sent her to the victims to make friends and maybe get them back to their home or smth. not sure if they specified all the details. but that's what carmilla did for mother. and in s2 we hear from mattie that while every couple of decades carmilla had to lure victims for the fish god, she also seemed to just enjoy humans between those times, right? like the doctor, gets lonely, gets a new companion. but we've only sort of got mattie's mocking word for it ("dont eat him, hes a poet! or her, shes got such a wonderful voice. or that one, shes just too pretty to ruin"), we don't know exactly from carmilla's point of view what she was doing or why. if mattie's talking about stuff that happened after the blood coffin, 1950-now, then i think it's a fair assumption based on what carmilla says in the s1 sock puppet show that after she'd figured out what the real situation was and what her role in it was, when she'd started trying to save girls from being sacrificed, that she mightve been doing the same trying to save people from becoming mattie's victims. it's probably more likely that she was just trying to find excuses to stop mattie from sucking someone dry rather than actually having like an aesthetic based morality. but it might be a bit of both. im still trying to figure out what her philosophy actually is, like i dont know what existentialism actually means ghkfjghkj but i will

i also found it pretty striking in the movie when shes turning back into a vampire she says like "this was supposed to be done, you know? the blood lust, the self-loathing, the sleeping tied to a chair in my own bedroom". thats what defines her vampirism, wanting blood and hating yourself for it (the third part is a joke/reference to s1 but also i think meaningful for how she sees her relationship with laura when she IS a vampire. little bit of that 'she will reject me for my monstrousness' shining through). and thats what defines vampirism for lots of vampires across the genre obviously, but i dont know, it struck me. we dont get a lot from carmilla's pov, we know a fair amount about her, but the story is always told through laura. we get laura's diaries, but just snippets here and there from carmilla, what shes thinking, how shes feeling

and i love that shes a philosopher. i love that thats how she seems to try and find something to hold onto, in a world that kind of moves around her, having been murdered, kidnapped, turned and groomed to be a lure on the cusp of adulthood, never having been properly loved (the relationship with her father wasnt good she says in s3, and her mortal mother i dont think has ever been mentioned (like laura's)). the only good relationship she seems to have had for the better part of 3 centuries seems to have been mattie, and mattie seems to love being a vampire. i can imagine carmilla just sort of going along with anything mattie wants to do just because shes so desperate for that friendship. not like, against her will necessarily really. but more like, she hasnt even had the space to develop her own will, you know? and philosophy lets you do that. philosophy gives you frameworks to understand the world and to develop your own opinions on it. and by the 21st century she seems to have developed those opinions, she has a sense of her own values, but shes also still stuck in that same situation. shes jaded and cynical in the face of laura's optimism and strong moral code a lot of the time in s1 because she feels probably pretty powerless. like she does what she can to save some girls but at the end of the day shes scared of her mother and she has nowhere else to go really, right?

i like how she grapples with that over the course of the series, in tandem with laura grappling with her black and white morality. she sort of jumps ship from her mother to laura bc theyve fallen in love, but then laura still stuck in her hero thinking refuses to see her monstrous side. not literally bc i think the biological vampirism never seemed to be a problem for laura, but morally. the having murdered. carmilla needs laura to see that and love her while seeing it bc the last girl she loved rejected her for being a vampire.

but you see her kind of swing back and forth in s2. she softens first with laura but then they break up and she leans back hard into the sarcastic cynic defense mechanisms, leans hard into "im a monster, dont expect heroism from me". but thats like, it's sort of learned helplessness i think. it's powerlessness, resignation. bc morally shes not a monster. maybe she doesnt have as strong a drive to help other people as laura does and is a little more selfishly hedonistic in that she just wants to enjoy her/their life, but she doesnt hurt people for fun, she never has. she just sort of didnt have another option for a Really long time. so she pretends she doesnt care. "im a vampire, this is what i do, this is who i am". but clearly from the way she talks about it when she turns back into one, she doesnt enjoy it

and i like how she goes even further in s3, where she starts swinging even more to the heroic side, bc she sees hope. shes like "wow if we kill my mother, i'd be free". theres hope and she becomes like a lot more active. and shes like that at the start of the movie too, a lot happier, a lot more relaxed, and then vampirism is back and bam depression gfhgkjh like shes immediately more gloomy, ashamed of her past and her self, retreats into herself

sorry i just took this as an opportunity to dump all the carmilla thoughts floating in my head on you. you didnt ask fhkghgjh consider this an open invitation to you or anyone else to come talk to me about carmilla

[pynkhues]

I'm really sorry you and your sister are dealing with that

(no pressure to publish this, not that there should ever be pressure to publish an ask if you don't want to, of course, but just wanted to say I hope you're doing okay)

Ah, thank you, anon, it's okay. It's been a while now (court moves slooow), but we're getting hopefully close to the end. She filed in Family Court December 2022, and we've had about five interim hearings with final trial (finally) scheduled over four days next month, so fingers crossed! But yeah, it's been A Time. He's financially and emotionally abusive against my sister, and both those things as well as medically negligent against their children (who are only six and eight and both have special needs), so it's been....rough. To say the least.

But on a lighter note, have one of my new favourite photos I took of my nephews at the jellyfish enclosure at the aquarium last month!