#but I pretty much never see people arguing that we're supposed to fall in line with the author's moral intent when reading other books

[incarnadinedreams]

I've always found the 'MXTX says this is how you should think about morality' arguments to not resonate at all with me because like... Well first of all, that's not how I interpreted any of her comments that I've read (in translation) anyway. But I haven't obsessively tracked down every comment and interview and catalogued them either.

But also. Not to sound overly dismissive but at the end of the day MXTX is just some random lady that wrote a very entertaining book on Chinese Wattpad. It's a book that I enjoyed very much (obviously, considering... waves hands vaguely around), and that doesn't mean there aren't thought-provoking themes and angles to it. There's plenty to dig into, if you're interested in analyzing and thinking about them.

But I simply Do Not Care about her opinions on reader's morality more than any other internet rando or random book author. I don't go full 'death of the author', in that I do consider authorial intent in many ways, but I also feel no obligation to agree with the author's intent even when it is clear what their intent is.

Sometimes opinions conveniently align by coincidence but I simply don't have to agree with anything to enjoy a cute murder mystery/torture-revenge-war-crimes-and-soup-eating themed BL webnovel and it's more fun this way.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Falling for You | Choi Yeonjun

Summary: You like Yeonjun, and he knows it. But what happens when you figure out he just might like you too? Pairing: f!reader Noona x Yeonjun, f2l (age gap 2 or 3 years, take your pick lol) Word Count: 3.6k a/n: I am so so so so so sorry to my anon that sent this a while ago! I hope it was worth the wait <3 p.s. not edited well because I was happy I finished it and wanted to post it asap! Let me know what you think!~

"I didn't know you were such an adrenaline junkie" Yeonjun says while fastening my harness and pulling the straps tighter, making sure everything is secure. "Why do you say that?" I ask, ultimately knowing but not wanting to admit it. "Well you've been here like 4 time since I started working here and I just started last month" he says laughing at what he probably believes is my clueless nature. "I don't know, it's exhilarating. Plus it was my first time so I don't know I guess I've been addicted ever since" I finish off getting a bit defensive but ultimately it's the truth. 

"You know, in another context that could sound really dirty" he teases making my cheeks heat up. "Yeonjun!" I scold hitting his arm, looking around to make sure no one had heard him. "What? Am I wrong?" he says, clearly loving my reaction. "No you're not but aren't you supposed to be acting professional while at work?" I question, crossing my arms over my chest. He ended up getting a job at an adventure park with bungie jumping, sky diving and zip lining, amongst other not so extreme activities.   

"Yeah but I don't need to act professional in front of you because you're my friend right?" he laughs, making excuses for himself. "Yes we're friends but still!" I argue, "Aw are you getting shy?" he teases, tilting his head at me. "You wish" I say scoffing at him, fed up with his cocky attitude already. Deep down though he knows I'm loving this...and that's the dangerous part. 

I like Yeonjun, and he knows that. I've liked him for years but we've never actually addressed it and he hasn't acted on it. Which pretty much shows me he doesn't feel the same way. So this is what we do, I act like I can't stand him but go out of my way to not so subtly be around him. Where as he does everything in his power to tease me until he gets a reaction out of me. Which honestly isn't very hard when it comes to him. 

That's been our friendship dynamic for years now and I don't want to mess that up, even if it means that we can't be together the way I want us to. "You ready to go? You know the drill so if you're all set I'll get you hooked up" he says referring to the zip lining contraption. You know, I might've been here multiple times already but I still don't know any of the proper terminology besides harness and carabiner, the latter being one Yeonjun had made fun of me for calling it 'the clippy thing' just today.

"As ready as I'll ever be" I say taking everything in. "Hey, you've done this before so don't let it psych you out" he says in a softer tone, placing a hand on my chin and pulling my face back over to his, my eyes now focusing on the floor not wanting to make eye contact with him. "Eyes on me Pretty" he says and I snap my eyes up to his but take a step back when I start choking on air. 

"Cute" he chuckles at me before bringing me back over to get hooked onto the zip line. I walk with him and let him drag me along, still caught off guard by the pet name and end up overthinking and spacing out until I get to the front of the line. "Oh hello again!" the girl that works on getting people ready to go on the line says. We've spoken a few times and she seems really nice but sometimes I get a bit insecure seeing her interactions with Yeonjun. 

"Hey!" I respond, still kind of unsure if I want to do this again. "Hey!" Yeonjun yells over to me, "Just close your eyes when you take off and count to 10 then open your eyes, that's when the best part comes into view". I nod my head at him and turn back around to face the girl as she helps me get connected. 

"You and Yeonjun seem pretty close" she says, clearly fishing for information. "Yeah we've been friends for a few years so I guess you could say that" I say. "Oh you guys are just friends? I could've sworn you were his girlfriend" she says with her brows slightly pinched together. "What would make you say that?" I ask, my heart beating a little faster. "I mean he talks about you all the time so I thought that maybe..." 

"Oh no, yeah we're um, yeah we're just friends" I say awkwardly after gaining that new piece of information and looking back over to him. "You know, if you like him you should ask him out" she says following my gaze to see him smiling and laughing with another one of their coworkers. "No I couldn't, plus I'm a few years older so I don't know" I say getting kind of embarrassed at the fact that I've admitted that I have a crush on a younger guy, and not only that but a close friend that's a younger guy.

"Wouldn't that be a bit weird?" I question, bringing my attention back over to her. "I don't think so. I mean it's not like you're 40 years old or something. Two or three years isn't that bad. Just think about it, I've seen you here so many times and I know for a fact that you both would make a really cute couple" she finished.

"I don't know about that" I say still turned towards her. "Don't know about what?" Yeonjun says sneaking up on me. "Don't sneak up on me like that! Do you see how far that fall is?" I scold and point towards the forest hundreds of feet bellow us. "You would've been fine silly. Plus you're already hooked up to the line. What's been taking you so long? I thought you went already" he asks, puzzled and looking back and forth between me and his coworker that I had been talking to.

"We were just catching up a bit" she says with a smile making an easy excuse. "You know Summer" he asks, speaking to me while pointing at the girl that I now know as Summer. "Yeah I've helped her out a few times since she's been here" she says and he nods, pacified with that answer. 

"So are you ready to go now?" he asks, double checking what I can assume is my harness, making sure I'm as safe as I can be. "I guess so" I answer again, kind of losing the thrill of the activity because of what Summer had just told me. 'Should I really ask him out?' I think to myself. "Noona?" he calls for me. "Huh? Did you say something?" I ask, feeling bad that I had spaced out on him. 

"I asked if you would like me to go with you? We can race if you want! Then I'll walk you over to the next thing you have planned. Skydiving right?" he asks trying to recall my agenda for the day. "No not yet, after this I'm going bungie jumping and then sky diving to finish out the day" I say filling him in once again.

"Sorry, with so many people that come here I sometimes get things mixed up" he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck which is strange since things like these aren't usually what gets him acting like this. In fact I don't think I've ever seen him act like this "It's fine Yeonjun don't worry about it. So are we gonna race or not?" I ask deciding to just move past what could turn into an awkward conversation. "Sure, just give me a sec and I'll put on a harness" he says and runs off to do as he's said. 

"Did you see that?" Summer asks, "See what?" I question back. "How he wanted to help you when you get to the other side and how he offered to race you to make you less scared and how embarrassed he got with the fact that he forgot the order you're going in today, how much he lit up when you asked him if he still wanted to race how-" "Okay Summer, okay I get it" I laugh cutting her off. "Well, if you don't ask him out soon then I'll ask him out for you if you want?" she questions trying to help me out. 

"That would be even more embarrassing than just doing it by myself" I say shaking my head and getting nervous just thinking about it. "What would be embarrassing?" Yeonjun asks, this time thankfully not sneaking up me. "Nothing don't worry about it. You ready?" I ask, trying to run away from this conversation. "Yeah um, sure" he says getting even more suspicious with us than he had been before. 

"Just think about it okay?" Summer says when she comes back around after double checking Yeonjun's connection for him and now triple checking mine for an excuse to encourage me one last time to which I just nod and get myself mentally prepared for this zip line as well as the prospects of potentially asking him out myself. "Alright guys, three...two...one...GO!" Summer yells and we both set off with Yeonjun just a second faster than me, already gaining a clear lead. 

"Hey that's not fair!" I yell, laughing at his awkward position which makes him go a lot faster, knowing that I wouldn't dare do something like that. "Hurry up then!" he says going back to sitting normally to which I take advantage of and decide to try out what he had been doing before, zooming past him. "Noona! Not fair!" he whines behind me and tries his best to catch up. "Hurry up then" I tease using his own words against him and this all goes on back and forth until we finally reach the end with me finishing just a second or two before him. 

"I took it easy on you" he says making excuses for his loss. "Sure you did" I taunt, knowing full well that he pretty much did. "That's the last time though! I want a rematch!" he demands, needing to regain a sense of pride. "Maybe next time, come on let's go!" I say excitedly and drag him right along with me. 

The walk to the bungie jumping area isn't too far off and it's spent still bickering with each other about the results of the race. "Fine you won, but I'm gonna go upside down when we go bungie jumping and then I'll win this round" he says and speeds up, trying to get there first. "Hey! You can't win at bungie jumping, you either jump or you don't jump, that's it." I argue, failing to see his logic. 

"Yeah but we can one up each other" he retorts and gets in line. "Fine, then I'll go upside down too" I say once I catch up to him. "Wait really?" he asks, completely surprised that I would even say that, let alone go through with it. 

"Why? Are you trying to get me to back out so you can win?" I say raising a brow at him. "So there is a winner" he says and pokes my side, to which I return with a slap of his arm. "By your logic, yes there is. But if we both go upside down then it's a tie which means I'm still in the lead" I say, satisfied by the outcome, but only if I actually do it.

"Do you want to go first or should I?" he asks. "Is that even a questions? You go first" I say and push him in front of me in line. "Fine but don't chicken out after I go because you think it's 'too scary' he says in air quotes. I give him a sarcastic smile and a wack him in the arm as a response. "OW!" he yell, obviously playing it up. "Well then stop making fun of me and just go" I say showing him it's his turn already.

I watch every step they take in hooking him up to make sure I'll be mentally prepared for my turn. "You got this loser" I yell as encouragement after they put him in position and he does nothing but smile in response. "Alright you ready?" the worker asks and Yeonjun sends a quick nod before they give him a countdown from three and drop him a few seconds afterwards. I lean forward a bit to try to get a better look at him but by his screaming and laughing alone I can really tell he's having a great time.

"Noona oh my gosh that was so fun!" he says coming over and giving me a hug enveloping my whole body, probably in an effort to steady himself on his feet. "You ready?" he asks with a huge smile and I can't help but laugh and say yes after seeing how happy he seems. A few seconds later though, that's another story. 

"Wait Yeonjun, can't I just go the regular way?" I plead, questioning all of my life choices up until this moment. "Nope, you promised me that you would do it if I did" he scolds. "I did no-" "Shhh" he quiets me before telling the guys I'm ready to go. They start placing everything they could possibly need to to keep me from dying on my ankles as well as answer any of my questions and assuring me I'll be fine. 

"Hush you'll be fine, just tell them when you're ready" Yeonjun says, peer pressuring me into doing it. "Fine" I mumble before letting the guys know. As they start to hoist me up into the contraption that drops me I shut my eyes trying to imagine myself anywhere but here. "Noona open your eyes!" to which I shake my head just enough for him to notice, not daring to make any sudden movements. 

"Open your eyes or I'll kiss you" he yells and at that my eyes open as wide as they possibly could seeing him with a smug smile before giving me the countdown. "Three..." "Yeonjun no!" "Two" "No stop I'm done playing get me down!" and before I hear him say one I feel myself drop and get the wind knocked out of me. Once I regain some air in my lungs after the first bounce I start to scream which slowly turns into laughing like crazy just as Yeonjun had done moments before. 

"How was it? It was amazing right?" he says with a huge smile on his face, still so amused at my reactions before the drop. "OW!" he says rubbing his forearm after having hit him for a second time. "Next time listen to me!" I say and try to take a step but stumble backwards a bit, still needing to regain my center of gravity. "Careful there" Yeonjun says pulling me back up by my harness. 

My eyes widen at the proximity between us now and I look up at him and he leans closer until his nose brushes against mine with my eyes closing shut getting flustered by everything about him. "I guess I shouldn't kiss you since you opened your eyes back there huh?" he whispers and before I'm able to process what he's said he's already ten steps ahead of me. 

"Hey!" I yell and jog to catch up with him. "What was that about?" I ask him with a deep crease between my brows which he puts his thumb on to encourage me to stop furrowing my brows. "What was what about?" he asks, playin dumb. 

"You know, all that kissing talk" I say deciding not to shy away from the subject. "Why? Did you want me to kiss you Noona?" he asks with a devilish smile with his eye facing forward keeping an eye on where we're going. "I didn't say that" I retort, unamused with this entire conversation but taking advantage to look up at his side profile nonetheless. "Sure you didn't. Race you to the airport!" he says and takes off running. "Hey! No fair!" I yell and run after him anyways even with no chance in hell of beating him.

"Took you long enough" he says cheekily, already having the chance to catch his breath while waiting for me. "Your legs are longer than mine are" I pant, with my hands on my knees. "You okay?" he asks, placing a hand on my back. "Peachy keen" I say, almost having calmed my breathing down after a minute or so. 

"Drink this" he says and hands me a bottle of water, to which I gulp down half of it. "Thirsty huh?" he says with a smirk and I roll my eyes at him, not bothering to dignify his statement with a verbal response but he takes satisfaction with what little I've given nonetheless. 

"So are you ready?" he asks when I've finally gotten back to normal. "Yeah but I haven't done this one before so I don't know what I should be doing" I admit. "It's fine let me teach you, that's what I'm here for right?" he says with a genuine smile. "Right" I say, matching his smile and he walks me through all of the procedures and safety precautions. 

"Did you want to go with me or did you want one of the other instructors to go with you?" he asks. "How would it be a competition if we went together? I'll go with one of the other instructors silly" I say, surprised by his question and pushing his shoulder a bit to go grab them. "And you better go with one too so it's even!" I yell after him as he jogs over to where they're at. 

Once we get up in the air and are close to jumping I notice that Yeonjun starts to space out a bit. "Are you okay?" I ask concerned as to if he should actually be jumping or not. "Yeah no I'm fine don't worry about it" he says and we both get pulled away from the conversation to get hooked up to each of our respective instructors. 

"Hey!" Yeonjun yells at me before we jump. "What?" I yell back so he knows for sure I've heard him. "Will you go out with me?" he yells and jumps off right after leaving me stunned. "You ready?" the guy I'm jumping with asks me. "Um yeah" I say and he gives me a countdown before we drop out of the plane. 

Falling through the sky is a feeling that I can't even begin to describe, with the wind in my face and seeing how tiny everything looks from up here it's actually insane. I'm not able to focus on that though ever since Yeonjun asked me if I would go out with him. Was he kidding? Was he just trying to tease me? How am I supposed to respond once we finally parachute down and we're back on the ground. 

I'm broken out of my train of thought when the guy behind me asks me if I'm okay since I haven't hardly made a sound. "Yeah I'm fine" I yell back. "Well then let me hear you say YEAH!!!" he yells, obviously trying to make sure that I'm actually not freaking out to which I respond to with a 'HELL YEAH' which seems to make him laugh.

Once we finally get close enough he pulls the tab to the parachute and we slowly but surely make our way back into the field next to the airport we had started out at. "So?" Yeonjun asks after coming over and helping me up off the ground. "So what?" I ask, not sure exactly what he's referring to since I'm still not sure if he meant what he said back there. 

"What's your answer?" he asks with a shy but excited smile, clearly hoping I say yes. Instead I grab one of the straps on his harness and pull him into me and kiss him, only lingering for a few seconds, although I want more. Once I pull back he rests his forehead against mine and whispers "Well I guess I got my answer then" before angling my face back up towards his to kiss me properly. 

Pushing back from him afterwards I push on his chest to create some distance between us as he's grabbed my waist in the meantime. "You better not make me regret this" I say giving him a stern look, making sure he'll take this seriously. 

"Don't worry Noona, I won't let you slip away"

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[animereaderinsertwriter]

Cupbearer (Eren/Reader)

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV (in progress)

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (im watching you, if you see this, begone!), vampire!eren, hunter!reader, fem!reader, smut, some amount of predator/prey dynamics but only kinda?? there is also a significant age difference but only cos eren is immortal and all that jazz. we're all adults here. there will eventually be smut.... and do i really need to say that there's gonna be blood in a vampire fic?

Description: A story of falling in love in 4 parts.

Eren is a bad man (well, a bad Creature) who has done bad things. When he meets the great-great-great granddaughter of one of his former friends in his favorite blood bar, however, he thinks it might not matter so much what happened in the past, so long as he can make the future something worth living to see.

Ao3 link here

Part I

A lamb in a den of lions, he thought, watching the newcomer as she settled in, ordering whiskey neat. A fool, for sure.

A fool she may be, perhaps, but even fools could be dangerous. Eren had known that the young woman was a Hunter from the moment she entered the bar (everyone else had, too) but something told Eren that she was hardly cut from the same cloth as the average Bane of Creatures. There was something in her movements— a predatory grace in her stride, perhaps, or a stiff, straight posture, with muscles tensed and ready for action— that betrayed her power to him; but for all that, she really was lovely, and the image of a rabbit caught in a patch of bramble came to mind whenever he looked at her.

Sitting in a corner, drinking his B-neg, he watched the woman as she sipped her drink, checking over her shoulder now and then. She was wary— as anyone with good sense would be— but she didn't appear frightened, and Eren's curiosity was piqued. It wasn't every day that someone so bold happened across his path, and it became harder and harder for him to resist the urge to approach her.

Eventually, Eren gave in to his curiosity— he never had been very good at or even particularly fond of restraining himself— and when he came silently up behind her, the newcomer didn't even notice his presence until he murmured a greeting close to her ear.

"Hello, little love," he said, and she startled in her seat. "Are you lost?"

She turned around then, her eyes big and bright in the dim lighting of the bar, but by the time she managed to look at the spot where Eren would have been, he was already seated on the barstool beside her. Eventually, though, her eyes found his, and when their gazes met, Eren was amused to find no fear in her visage.

"Far from it," she told him, turning her body towards him. "I am precisely where I mean to be."

Eren blinked, nonplussed.

"Curious," he said, leaning forward so that she could see the sharpness of his teeth as he spoke. "Do you fancy yourself a wolf among sheep, little Hunter? Did you really not think we would know you for what you are the moment you crossed the threshold of this place?"

Any normal, human ear would have missed the way her heart leapt in her chest, but Eren missed nothing. The fear he had hoped to inspire in her was present after all, but her face never moved from its impenetrable mask— an affectation that was somehow both soft and steely at once.

"That's not what I'm here for," she told him, widening the distance between her knees as she readjusted on the stool. "I'm here to discover the truth."

The truth— what an odd notion!— and yet Eren sensed no lie in her.

"You're a strange one," he told her, but forced himself to relax his posture to appear lazy, almost drunk. "Most Hunters— even ones so pretty as yourself— shoot first and worry about the truth later. What's your name?"

Her nose crinkled. "It's polite to give your own first."

Sharp, he thought, watching her closely. Names have power.

"Eren Jaeger."

"Eren Jaeger," she echoed, then extended her hand. "My name is (Y/N)."

That name sounded familiar to Eren— and though most names did after living a few centuries, this one seemed to hit closer to home. He knew that name, and knew it well…

"What's your surname?"

(Y/N)'s eyes flashed with an emotion that Eren didn't catch.

"Kirschtein," she replied, averting her eyes. "I'm Jean Kirschtein's great-great-great granddaughter."

And damn if Eren didn't want to laugh. Perhaps his nosiness into the posterity of his old acquaintances really was as bad of an idea as Armin always seemed to imply.

"I see," he said, and he truly, truly did. "Then you know who I am— what I am— and what I've done."

More than that, if she truly did know who he was, it was unlikely that she had come without a specific purpose in mind.

(Y/N) nodded, confirming his suspicions. "I was digging around in my family history and— well— I read what my grandfather wrote, and I just— I wanted the truth."

So wide-eyed, so innocent— so alive. Eren could see now her resemblance to Jean; if they were not similar in looks, she had his sharpness, his humanness… and, as he always had Jean, Eren envied her for it.

"If that's the case, then I'm sure you know that you don't get something for nothing," he told her, sipping his drink just to watch the expression on her face as he let the warm blood slide down his throat. "And that dealings with me can be dangerous."

"Jean Kirschtein loved you, Eren Jaeger," she told him fiercely and with such conviction that Eren nearly choked on his drink. "To take such a tone with me, to threaten me, the last living remnant of him, is the most disrespectful thing I've ever heard."

Eren was about to say that he didn't owe her, Jean Kirschtein, or anyone else any sort of respect, but she plowed on, unwilling to let him say his piece.

"You broke his heart a million ways by doing what you did, but— but he was your friend through all of it, no matter what side each of you were on," (Y/N) continued, passion aflame in her eyes. "I can't even imagine what inspired such a love, such a loyalty from him that he would forgive you for the horrors you caused. That's what I'm here to find out— what you have that a man such as him would find you redeemable."

The reproof in her words stung, but Eren was too old to argue. She could never understand what it was like back then.

"I understand more than you think," she snapped, and Eren actually flinched. "I understand that you hurt the woman my grandfather loved immeasurably, and that he forgave you for that even though he never even particularly liked you. I understand that you were ready to sacrifice the world for that selfsame woman, for Jean, and for all the others. I understand that you're a monster who loved and was loved back, but I want to know why."

How? Eren thought, shaken.

How had she known his thoughts? It was as though she had seen straight through to his innermost being.

Without speaking, she answered his question. (Y/N) took a hand and rolled up her left sleeve, presenting to him a scarred marking in the shape of a pentagram.

"My grandfather didn't settle down with just anyone," she told him, holding his gaze. "I come from a line of powerful witches, all of whom possessed strong claircognizance. Paired with my nature as an empath, you can assume I know what you're going to say before you say it."

Eren hummed, trying to appear less perturbed than he was.

"And yet you hunt Creatures for a living; strange, since you're practically one of us yourself."

(Y/N) glowered. "I hunt monsters that prey on my people, not Creatures. No innocent has died by my hand."

The unlike you went unsaid, but that didn't mean that Eren didn't hear it anyway.

"Don't get high-and-mighty with me, girl," he told her roughly. "Knowing is one thing, but experiencing what we experienced is another."

"I'm not here to judge you," she replied. "I told you, I'm here for truth, nothing more."

"And I told you that the truth doesn't come for free," he told her darkly. "You must give me something in return."

(Y/N) set her jaw.

"What would you have of me?"

It was a mean, base request. Eren was wicked for even thinking it, and vile for wanting it— but looking at the great-to-however-many-degrees granddaughter of a good man that he had once known, seeing the vitality that brought a flush to her cheeks and thumping to her heart, he knew he couldn't pass up this golden opportunity.

It had been so long since he'd had a Companion.

"Become my cupbearer for six moons," he told her, crossing his arms. "Starting with tonight, the moon becomes new; let me drink from you until six of these have passed, and along the way, you will learn what you want to know."

(Y/N) eyed him warily.

"Can you assure my physical safety?"

Eren grunted, almost amused. It was a bit late to be worrying about that.

"I think you know that I can."

"And will you let me continue in my duties as a Hunter?" she asked, her eyes searching his own as if she would find the answer to her question there inside the same eyes he'd had since he was nineteen. "Completely uninhibited?"

"That depends. Will you kill Creatures in the discharge of your duties?"

(Y/N) made a face. Eren had forgotten how expressive mortals could be, but he found that being reminded was not altogether unpleasant.

"You know I will," she replied, "But you have my word that any killing won't be unprovoked."

Eren supposed it was as close to a compromise as he could expect.

"As you wish it, so shall it be."

He turned away, signaling to the bartender for another drink, but a lightning-fast hand shot out to grab his wrist.

"Swear it," she demanded. "I need us to be Bound by it."

The meanness in Eren finally won over. He reached forward, grabbing (Y/N) by the neck, and the silver rings on her fingers burned him as she pulled at his hand to try and restore her breath. Eyes from all around the room were on the two of them— had been, since the very beginning— but it was only once the Hunter before him began to look appropriately humbled that he withdrew.

"Do not touch me without my permission," he said, "And I will return the favor."

(Y/N) looked at him then, but there was still no fear in her eyes. Anger, yes, but no fear.

She must be mad, or foolish one, he thought, considering her for a moment. I always have been partial to mad fools in general, but…

Something about her seemed different, and Eren didn't know what to do other than accept what she had to offer. Heavens knew he was getting the better end of the deal anyway.

"Swear it," she repeated, this time more quietly. "Give your word, and I will be your cupbearer."

Eren brought his hand up and unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt. At his will, the nail tip of his forefinger sharpened, hardening into a point; he used it to draw an 'X' onto the skin just over where his heart rested inside his chest, cold and dead. Blood welled into the cut— precious little, compared to that of a human, but still enough to run down his chest in smudges— and it was by that blood that he swore. He spoke the terms of their agreement, then took the blood from his wound with the pad of his finger and marked the same spot over (Y/N)'s own heart.

"Satisfied?" he asked, their faces almost touching, and (Y/N) shivered.

"Yes."

Her warm, living breath fanned over his face with her reply, and Eren took the moment to close his eyes and appreciate the scent and sensation of it.

"You may think you're satisfied," he told her, pulling away, "But you don't know the meaning of the word."

She eyed him warily, but before she could speak, he added, "In six months' time, I'll ask you the same question, and it is then that you will truly know what it is to feel satisfied— satiated in every way."

"As you say."

It was a throwaway comment, nothing more than a dismissal, really; but Eren felt like it was the start of something truly remarkable.

[wondernimbus]

a day in hogsmeade — ron weasley

pairing: ron weasley x female!reader

summary: ron weasley may be one awkward lad who can’t hold reader’s gaze for any more than ten seconds, but he is also terribly endearing. 

a/n: @glisseoo​ asked for some ron fluff so i shall deliver

requests are closed for now. please refrain from plagiarizing my work! 

"You do realize you've been staring at me for the past minute, right?"

The redhead next to her flushes the same hue as his hair and puffs his cheeks out, gaze skittering away. "I wasn't," he says indignantly, sounding far too defensive, snorting out a laugh as though the mere idea of it is outrageous. “Why would I be.. ha.. staring at you.. ridiculous.."

[Y/N] shakes her head, grinning.

Ron Weasley is one awkward lad; it has only taken her an hour into their date at Hogsmeade to realize this. Part of her had been expecting it ever since he'd come up to her in the Great Hall three days ago, a furiously blushing mess as he blubbered something about asking her out. Looking back on it, despite him having rambled on in front of her for about half a minute, all she can really remember—all she'd vaguely made out at that moment through his constant stammering—were the words "Hogsmeade" and "this Saturday" and "want to—um—go with me". 

She’d said yes, of course. Ron Weasley may be awkward, but she can't deny herself the pleasure of going on a date with a very cute—and apparently very funny, according to the rumors—redheaded boy. 

And to be honest, his awkwardness is quite endearing. [Y/N] finds herself laughing every five minutes or so whenever she spots him downright staring at her—and whenever she catches him, he always tears his gaze away and pretends to be preoccupied with something else.

Ron does it again now, as [Y/N] surveys the Honeydukes shelves and glances at him out of the corner of her eye. The effect is almost immediate; the moment her eyes land on his, he looks away, hand flying up to randomly pluck a box of—ah, Cockroach Clusters—off of the shelves.

"Interesting choice," muses [Y/N], turning around to properly face him, twiddling with a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans in her hands. "Can’t say I’ve ever seen anyone pick up a box of Cockroach Clusters for their own enjoyment—it almost always has something to do with some sort of practical joke.”

Ron coughs and puts the box back on the shelf. "Was just looking."

[Y/N] purses her lips together to contain the giggles threatening to burst out from behind them. She smiles down at her feet for a moment, lips pinched in a poorly-concealed smile, and then gestures to the row of Cockroach Clusters. "Well," she shifts on her feet, "Have you ever tried them?"

Ron's eyes widen. He practically blanches and says, "Never. My brothers—Fred and George—tricked Percy into eating it once.. don't think he was the same ever since."

[Y/N] laughs at this. Ron looks up, seemingly pleasantly surprised at her reaction, and then laughs quietly under his breath, hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "That does sound like Fred and George," [Y/N] giggles. "Do you take after them?"

"Gah, no." They’ve started walking now, Ron keeping pace next to her in the narrow aisle, their shoulders brushing slightly. "Mum would have a heart attack. She’s got enough on her platter with two troublemakers in the family already."

[Y/N] raises her eyebrows and glances up at him. "You sure you aren't one? I’m in your Potions class, you know. I’ve heard you talk back to Snape plenty of times."

Ron flushes red not for the first time that day. "Can't really help it. He’s a bit of a git." And then he adds, "Sorry."

"Oh, don't be." [Y/N] waves a hand in the air as though to brush it off. "You’re not wrong. Can’t keep his nose out of other people's business—you know he gave my friend detention once for disrupting his class when all he did was sneeze?"

"I remember that. Wasn’t that Ernie?"

"Exactly—Ernie Macmillan. Snape made him clean the trophy room."

Ron makes a sound in the back of his throat like a snort. "Ah. The trophy room. Probably didn't have much to clean, then. I scrubbed the bloody hell out of those trophies four years ago when I got detention."

[Y/N] laughs, nudging him lightly by the elbow. "And you say you're not a troublemaker."

This time, Ron doesn't blush beet red; he actually laughs, and [Y/N] is pleased at how he's managed to ease up a little. Shrugging, he admits, "Suppose I am. Not as bad as the twins, though, as I’m sure you know."

"I and the rest of the castle," [Y/N] affirms, giggling. They’ve reached the cashier by now—and speak of the devil; the Weasley twins are standing in line, though their backs are turned. "Isn’t that them?" asks [Y/N] curiously, looking to Ron for confirmation.

But the sight she's met with is rather comical. All the color seems to have drained from Ron's face; he looks like he's seen a ghost. Gaping a little, eyes wide in what looks like panic, he clears his throat and says, "I think we should go."

But luck is not on Ron's side, because either Fred or George—[Y/N] can't really tell which one—turns around, and at the sight of their younger brother, beams widely and exclaims, "Ron! Fancy seeing you here, dear brother!"

"Fred," says Ron through gritted teeth, and then, once the other twin has turned around, "George."

"Shopping for sweets, aren't we?" grins George. 

And then, seemingly at the same time, their gazes land on [Y/N], who stands at Ron's side, amused. An identical flicker of surprise crosses the both of their faces before Fred manages to say, with his eyes darting between the two of them, "Is this what I think it is?" 

"Oh, my." George’s mouth has fallen open in an incredulous laugh. "Is ickle-Ronniekins on a date? with [Y/F/N], no less?"

[Y/N] side-eyes Ron to see that he has tensed and is glancing around as though in search for the nearest exit. She scoffs a little at the twins, and, sending them an exasperated look, scolds them by saying, "Oh, leave 'Ronniekins’ alone. He’s been nothing but sweet the entire day."

Their grins grow even wider. "Isn’t that right?" says Fred, tone still teasing. "Well, I must say: We're proud of you, Ronniekins. See you've finally found it in you to ask out the girl you've been obsessing over for two whole years now."

[Y/N]'s eyebrows rise up in intrigue. Ron's cheeks, meanwhile, flush an even darker shade of red. "I'm not—" he begins.

"And since you two are together—"

"We’re not—" Ron tries again. 

"—you ought to start teaching him how to play Quidditch, [Y/N], you being a Hufflepuff chaser and all," Fred continues smoothly. Up ahead by the cashier, someone has successfully made their purchase; the twins take a step back, moving up the line without even looking behind them. "Ron’s planning on trying out for the Gryffindor team next year, you see."

"What the—how��do you know that?” Ron gapes. 

"We’d teach him ourselves," says George, sighing, "But Ron's temper is a little—ah—"

"Fiery?" Fred suggests.

"Let’s just say one time he grabbed my Beater bat in mid-air and whacked me upside the head with it."

An amused laugh leaves [Y/N]'s lips before she can even think about suppressing it. "Is that true, Ron?" she says, tone playfully scolding.

Ron rolls his eyes, grumbling, "That was after they jinxed my broom to let out farting noises every five seconds."

Another laugh. "Interesting," she hums. "Well, thanks for the tip, you two." And then, narrowing her eyes at them good-naturedly, "I’ll be sure to teach your brother Quidditch—with a method that doesn’t involve farting jinxes, of course."

Fred and George beam. They’re up next in line. "I bagsy best man at your wedding," Fred announces, swiveling around to face the cashier.

"No, I do—" argues George, turning around to pile up the sweets in his arms on the counter. 

Moments later, the twins are waving their goodbyes, all the while dramatically sobbing into their hands and saying something about their little brother growing up too fast. Fred pats [Y/N] on the shoulder as he passes by, saying in a hushed voice that he'd totally meant for Ron to hear, "Take care of ickle-Ronniekins for us."

And then [Y/N] and Ron are left in the Honeydukes shop, Ron with a flushed face and [Y/N] heavily amused. "That was.." she exhales, laughing as she slides her box of Bertie Botts' Every Flavor Beans across the counter. "Quite something. Are they always like that?"

"Every bloody waking moment," complains Ron, shoulders sagging as he practically deflates against the counter, leaning his hip on it. "Sorry about them, they're.."

"A bit much?”

"That’s an understatement," Ron comments, obviously still spiteful.

"Did you really hit your brother with his own bat?" she glances at him, eyes alight with genuine curiosity as she takes the paper Honeydukes bag from the shopkeeper with a polite "thank you". 

Making their way to the exit, Ron nods, his own eyes shining with a kind of fieriness that [Y/N] can't help but laugh at. Passionately, he says, "And I’d do it again."

She starts chortling at this, walking through the door as Ron holds it open for her. “Interesting group of brothers, you all are," she enthuses, smiling at him somewhat sympathetically once her giggles have faded. It’s still snowing outside; she pulls the ends of her scarf tighter around her neck.

[Y/N] purses her lips, falling quiet for a moment as though pondering over something, and then, her lips tugging up at the edges, she looks up at him and asks, "And have you really been obsessing over me for two years?"

Ron's eyes grow wide and they skirt away almost immediately, hand flying up to scratch the back of his neck like some sort of defense mechanism. "I—I don't—" he sputters out," I mean—not obsessed—" and then he pauses, as though to start over. Shoulders deflating, he mutters, eyes still downcast, "I've.. always found you really pretty, is all."

[Y/N] scuffles her feet against the ground. The smile tugging on her lips is far too insistent, so she just lets herself succumb to it and grin down at her shoes before she looks up at him, eyes alight with mirth, and says, "It's fine, Ron. That's really sweet of you." And because she has a feeling he doesn't want to talk about his—erm—feelings anymore, she asks, "Do you want to go into the Three Broomsticks next? Grab some butterbeer, maybe?"

Ron nods. But his eyes don’t fail to catch onto the way she’s rubbing her naked hands together—she’d forgotten her gloves. He doesn’t pause to ask and instead takes off his own immediately, handing them to her without quite meeting her eyes.

Despite the rush of gratitude this tiny act gives her (and the butterflies it lets loose in her stomach), she holds her palms out at Ron in a stopping gesture, hurriedly saying, “Oh, no—keep them, Ron, your hands will get cold—“

“Just take them,” Ron says, still abashed. “Can’t have you freezing to death.”

She pauses, another fond smile tugging on the corners of her lips, and then exhales defeatedly and takes the gloves from him, putting them on. “Well, I doubt I’d freeze to death,” she mutters, “but thank you.” Once the gloves have fitted snugly around her hands, she looks up at Ron, smiling softly, and says, “Ready to go, then?”

“Yeah, let’s—oh, blimey. I forgot. Wait here!”

Before [Y/N] even begins to register his words, Ron has disappeared and is dashing back into Honeydukes, leaving her standing outside, bewildered.

Isn’t he something else—leaving his date behind, alone in the snow. [Y/N] can’t help but laugh, giggling to herself as she clamps her hand over her mouth, earning strange looks from Hogwarts students passing by. 

Ron Weasley is awkward and a bit of a mess around her, but [Y/N] finds that it’s quite adorable. And it’s certainly an assurance to know that she’s not the only one venturing into unknown territory—this is her first date, after all. And to be completely honest, she’s enjoying it. Initially she thought she’d be having too hard of a time dealing with Ron’s overbearing awkwardness, but it’s quite the opposite, as she’s grown fond both of it and of him in general.

And that fondness only multiplies when Ron bumbles out of the Honeydukes shop a few minutes later, holding an entire block of wrapped chocolate in his hands, which he hands to her.

“Thought you might like it,” he says, abashed, only managing to hold her gaze for a few moments before his eyes are darting away again. “Would’ve bought it earlier.. got distracted..”

[Y/N] tells herself that the pink blush that is no doubt spreading across her cheeks is most definitely because of the cold and not because of a certain Ron Weasley.

Feeling a thousand things all at once—all of which (so be it) have something to do with Ron—she smiles, all crinkled eyes and dimpled cheeks, and stands on her tip-toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

Flushing, she pulls away. This time she’s not quite meeting his gaze, either, as she says, “Let’s get going, shall we?”

Without waiting for a response, she scurries away, cheeks a blazing shade of red as Ron stands there, hand coming up to brush against the spot on his cheek where she’d kissed him.

[imnotcameraready]

more than beliefs (5: mother knows best)

A/N: still trying at this ! i still don't own any tables so honestly, writing has been kinda hard :') but i'm still up to a polished chapter 7 and know VERY well what is happening in chapter 8, so we're looking pretty good. i wrote all of chivalry chapter by chapter so.....hoping this goes well :'D

WARNINGS: manipulation, plotting a murder, paranoia description, blunt force trauma, assault, amnesia, blood, graphic description of violence — this chapter’s the first doozy! if i missed anything, please let me know!

Words: 4378

AO3 link!

enjoy!! <3

“Now, this might be a controversial opinion, but the second Little Mermaid movie is a top-tier Disney sequel,” the Director said, idly mixing a teaspoon around in his hot chocolate.

Roman scoffed. He was sitting on the Director’s couch, wrapped in a blanket while they watched 2005’s Just Like Heaven starring Mark Ruffalo and Reese Witherspoon. The Director had suggested they watch something from Disney, but while Roman loved the whole library of Disney movies lining his shelf, he couldn’t choose which one he wanted. To his surprise, the Director didn’t have a favorite, either. He’d said he was fond of the cookie-cutter damsel in distress narrative of older Disney stories, which Roman tried (and failed) to take offense to, but did agree that many modern movies like Big Hero 6 had interestingly complex and developed stories.

“I just prefer the expansion on oceanic lore. And I’m a sucker for a good parental storyline, when the former protag takes on the motherly role.” The Director took a sip of his coffee.

“And here I thought you weren’t one of my creative advisors,” Roman said with a smirk, crossing his arms upon his pillowy throne.

The Director scoffed, and as he rolled his eyes Roman could have sworn that he was blushing. Maybe he was embarrassed. “Just because I’m not David doesn’t mean I can’t have opinions on works of art,” he sounded dejected—Roman guessed that was fair. The Dragon and Damsel and Child, most obviously, had strong opinions on art yet no artistic inclinations.

It was still up in the air if the Thief did. It didn’t seem like he had many opinions on things that weren’t consequential to Roman’s direct safety, but he was very quiet. Roman didn’t rule out the possibility of the Thief just not wanting to share that information with him, which was….well. Unfortunate.

Roman wished he got to know his advisors better. Ever since they were separated from him, Roman feels like he’s been at the grinding stone with them all. The Thief had spent the whole wedding either swearing or screaming suggestions angrily, and when he wasn’t, he was comforting an incredibly distraught Bard. The Damsel and Playwright tried to help the most but... He had barely even seen the Artist outside of their creative sessions. He had barely seen the Dragon or Child, period.

The Director was an interesting one. Roman had everyone’s phone numbers, because, well, he wasn’t about to use carrier pigeons. Though that might be super cool to try one day. But the Director was just about the only advisor to casually reach out to him. He would send Roman memes. How did he even get memes? Roman and Remus had created an Imagination-version of the internet, so it was likely from their co-sponsored Imagination Tumblr or something. The Director putting in the effort and time to think of Roman during such small instances was what made Roman feel more comfortable here, though. That’s what made him trust the Director with these sorts of situations. Almost made them closer...

Was that selfish? To favor one part of oneself over others? Surely not. It was similar to recognizing flaws, or pimples and blemishes. Not to say any of the others were blemishes. Drats, even Roman’s internal monologue was demeaning to himself.

“Do you want any more coffee? I’m going to go refill,” the Director’s voice jolted Roman out of his stupor, and he looked up with wide eyes.

“No, I’m okay,” and after a small beat, he added, “Thank you again for housing me. I can’t imagine what Phillip would want to say after yesterday’s debacle.”

The Director scoffed. Roman snuggled into his blanket more, listening to the Director pour himself another mug and reply. “Anytime, Roman,” he chuckled, then put on one of the most outlandishly fake accents Roman’s ever heard. “I live to serve~”

“Sto-op,” Roman groaned, throwing his head back and shooting the Director a glare—well, glaring at the kitchen door. There were walls around all of the rooms here, unlike the Mind Palace.

The Director laughed even more when he returned, sitting on the couch with his legs crossed on the cushion. He held his mug in his hands for a few seconds before talking, tone much more sober.

“I do have to say. I’m surprised I was the one you came to.” The Director’s voice is a little more quiet. “I thought for sure you would have sought comfort with Cadence or Gavin before me.”

Roman blinks. “I guess….I didn’t want to be judged again.” He looked back down at his lap, at the blankets piled up there and his own coziness. “Every time I come back after an argument, or after making a fool of myself, it seems everyone has an opinion on how poorly I handled a situation. None of them really acknowledge….It must have been….”

He’d been a little confused about it, too. The trust issue.

“Janus has strung my emotions along enough for it to be fair that I don’t trust him,” Roman said, voice soft as he tried to put how he’d been feeling into words. “Right?”

That was as close an explanation as he could get to. Because it all boiled down to the trust issue, in his understanding of the situation. As much as Patton wanted him to let go of the situation, Patton was focusing on the mustache quip rather than the whole trust thing. Janus knew Roman had wanted to go to the callback. But Roman also wanted to be a good person, if that’s what Thomas wanted. Thomas wanted to be a good person so Roman also wanted to be a good person.

But when being a good person directly went against Thomas’ dreams, Janus stepped in. And sure, he argued that they weren’t supposed to be self-sacrificial, but wasn’t that a hero’s job? When did a hero ever get to keep anything before sacrificing everything? Isn’t that what made sense?

Janus didn’t even do a good job at explaining it, not until all the damage had already been done. This was different from just giving Roman the perfect set up for a theater display, this was Janus pretending that he wanted what Roman wanted. This was Janus pretending to be his friend but wanting Thomas to...be a bad person?

He didn’t understand. Maybe Patton was right. Maybe Roman just didn’t understand. And that’s what made his disgruntlement so confusing, because in his heart, Roman knew Janus was trying to help, he knew that, he understood. But then why did it hurt so much?

“Oh, honey, he’s gone way past that. Don’t gaslight yourself into thinking he’s been helpful,” Macbeth’s icy voice cut through the thoughts wrangling Roman’s mind.

The Director was so self-assured. It was comforting. He was sitting on the couch, arms crossed as he explained.

“And Patton, Logan, turning around just to say you should let it go and listen to him after he’s lied nine times out of ten?” the Director threw his head back and let out a sharp “Hah! No, your anger is rational. And defensible.”

“Why won’t any of the others agree with that?”

The Director starred at Roman for a minute. Just a little too long. His eyes seemed to press Roman into a corner, under a box. Scrutinized.

They both knew that “others” wasn’t a reference to the other Sides. The Director kept his distance from Roman’s other advisors, he knew that, but Roman didn’t know how far. The Director wasn’t the kind to just watch them, was he?

“They all have their opinions. About Disney and otherwise.” He took another drink of his coffee then shook his head, standing up, motioning for Roman to follow, “May I show you….something. Without you thinking I’m crazy?”

Now, that’s always a fairly worrying question to hear. “No, no, I trust you,” Roman said with a slight grin.

The Director must have been able to see how it waned, because he chuckled, smiled back. “I think we’re all a little zany. But that’s the charm. Phillip is undoubtedly the scariest, as much as Draco tries. The Prince, Damsel, whichever you want, has a noticeable villain complex.”

Wait, what?

The Director raised his hands in mock defeat. Showing his hands, like he were trying to assure Roman that he wasn’t being suspicious. But the hairs on Roman’s neck rose. He led Roman to the door just besides Roman’s room. When he first started visiting the Director, he explained that this was his study. Roman had never gone in. Because, you know, when you respect someone you also respect their privacy.

“I’ve only ever spoken to Marlowe, but, you know. I’m the Director of players I can never meet. I had to take notes,” he added the final part quietly.

He glanced over the combination button pad on the door. Roman hadn’t noticed that. What room would require a combination lock? And who would be….Was it to keep him out? Or someone else? Maybe the Playwright, the Director mentioned he’d been over before. Keep anyone out, it seemed.

“I….notes?” he was flabbergasted. What the fuck was happening?

“Yeah.” The Director opened the door slowly and motioned for Roman to follow.

Inside were papers. One wall was a large tackboard, photos and sticky notes and papers pinned up, connected with lines of colored yarn. Roman felt his mouth fall open as he inspected it. There were notes on all of his advisors, all seven of the others, even some of people Roman didn’t know. There was someone with four eyes. Someone with antlers. Who were they? How did this all fit together?

Why in Athena’s name did the Director have corkboard notes on the other advisors? That was a lot more than a little weird.

“I...You’re wonderful, Roman. So productive and pristine and princely, as you deserve to be. But there are some areas where you can stand to improve.” Roman was probably only processing some of the Director’s words as he rolled up his sleeves and pulled out a metal stick, one that looked oddly like a wand.

He held it in one hand, and suddenly it extended, until it was a pointer. The Director held both ends of it and watched Roman for a reaction, a response, something.

“I would have to agree,” Roman stumbled over his words a little, eyes still glued to the notes—there were some by the Child that read ‘Naive/Trusting/Problem?’—before he slowly turned back to the Director with a weak grin once again. “I mean, I might be pristinely princely, but those P alliterations don’t include perfect. No one’s perfect.”

“It may be an unattainable dream, but we’re well familiar with those. We can only strive for improvement! And when improving you and yourself, that means making changes to them,” the Director gestured up at the wall of photos, of the parts of Roman’s self, and smacked the Child’s photo with his pointer. “I actually only thought I would be reading these notes, so forgive me for any, er. Sharp language.”

Roman knew that self-improvement meant adopting new mindsets, but he had no idea that putting parts of himself into characters involved changing them as well, though it did make sense. Self-insert characters had to change if you were changing the self that was being inserted. Right?

If he wanted to improve….it made sense. He had to change himself, including the facets of himself.

“That’s fair,” Roman murmured, “Okay. These….You could take these notes to the other advisors. Surely they’d accept it?”

“At this point, I don’t know who would kill me faster,” the Director scoffed, then gestured at the Damsel’s notes, a cluster of sticky notes and drawings and photos of the Damsel at a well enough distance that it was closer to stalker-ish. “Phillip wouldn’t want competition. Marlowe agrees that he can be quite standoffish when threatened, and a newcomer claiming to be one of Roman’s advisors? Someone who doesn’t have his respect in a royal manner?”

The Director pointed to the Thief now, a even more grave expression adorning his face. “And Eric. Tell me you think he would accept a newcomer of any kind. Just tell me. Especially near Gavin. And the Child himself probably wouldn’t like me.”

Well, that sounded off. Roman leaned on the wall besides the door, back against his hands as he continued to inspect the wall. There were notes on the other advisors’ behaviors, their antics.

For some reason, Roman could almost imagine Janus or Logan doing this. It was something close to weird and something else close to endearing. Was that weird?

“Why not? Gavin’s pretty trusting.” Roman didn’t look away from the wall as he replied.

“In fairness, he might like me, but I don’t know if I could ever come around to liking him. He’s the root source of all our issues, especially our present issue with Janus, Patton, Logan. Even past issues with Remus, if I’m remembering them properly. What Gavin represents allows us to be easily swayed.”

That got Roman to look away, look down at the Director. He was glaring up at the Child’s photo with something fierce, which startled Roman enough. I mean, that was a whole child there. What would inspire this much hatred?

“Really now?” Roman wanted to know.

“He gets us to let our guard down. It’s at Gavin’s behest we take chances, but it’s that same honesty that leads us to broken promises, taking in lies like they’re candy. I don’t know what I would do with him,” the Director sounded disappointed.

That was a fair analysis. All of the advisors—the Playwright, the Thief, the Child, Bard, Artist, Dragon, Damsel, Director—they all represented different parts of Roman, similar to how the Sides represented parts of Thomas. In theory, they worked together. In practice, that was far from the truth, but Roman knew for his sake that they were trying their best.

They all oversaw different parts of Roman’s psyche, too. The Playwright, for example, was most similar to Logan in that he represented Roman’s research and organization, on a creative and egotistical level. The Playwright—Marlowe—could be trusted with knowing how many liters of blood were in the human body as well as every one of the Sides’ favorite karaoke songs, even the exact time and date they met Nico.

The Child was Roman’s belief, his ability to dream. It was fair to assume that that made him the most naïve part. Perhaps it was even a fair conclusion that the debacles with Janus were caused by what the Child represented.

Roman hadn’t thought of it like that. The last time he’d talked to the Child, Gavin, about the situation, he had seem incredibly disappointed.

He’d never stopped to ask what the Child was disappointed in, though. Was he disappointed in Roman? Or in himself? Did the Child know he was the one who had pushed Roman to trust Janus? Did….There was no way that this was….the Child’s fault. Was it?

“Huh.” Roman’s voice echoed emptily to himself. A pit opened in his stomach, something difficult to grasp. The root cause of his burdens couldn’t be his ability to dream. His dreams themselves, his hopes, his beliefs. He….he was the daydreamer, the creator. That couldn’t be a flaw, could it?

The Director watched him, but Roman hardly noticed. It was only for a few seconds, too, of stoic silence before the Director interrupted his thoughts with a huff, looked across the board. “This is quite a bit of insight at once. Maybe we should finish the movie.”

“Director?”

Roman and the Director both turned to the open doorway, the later slapping a hand over his own mouth immediately. With a flick of his wrist, the door closed quietly, clicking just loud enough for the both of them to hear. They also heard the Playwright in the living room, footsteps echoing faintly on the stone floor.

“Director?” the Playwright called out again.

“Fuck,” the Director whispered. This must have been an unplanned visit.

“What? We can just go out and say hello,” Roman said back, though his demeanor and body language spoke of worry, almost fear.

The Playwright was well known to be a pacifist. And the Playwright knew about the Director, knew about Roman knowing the Director. He was a little surprised to find that the Playwright didn’t know the Director’s name was Macbeth, but Roman knew the Director to be a man of secrets.

“He doesn’t know I….He doesn’t know you’re here. He barely knows we talk,” the Director looked around the room and pressed a hand to one of the walls, “Fuck. How are we going to get him out?”

The rock beneath the Director’s hand morphs into a doorway and he opens it. The Playwright was standing in the living room, close to the front door to the home. He looked up at them both, eyes widening when he met Roman’s. Before Roman could say anything, even think of something to say, the Playwright spoke with ease.

“Roman’s here? Thank goodness. Virgil’s come looking for him,” he gave Roman a small smile, strained but caring all the same.

“Ah.” Roman stiffened. Virgil came looking for him? In the Imagination? Why? How? He didn’t have his own passage into this space yet, how’d he get here?

He didn’t want to talk to Virgil. As supportive as he’d been, especially when it came to taking care of Thomas, there were still some areas where Roman wanted to be alone, wanted to process his thoughts alone. Virgil was...vindictive. Which was a strong word to use, but an apt one. Virgil’s distaste in Janus made it hard for Roman to form his own thoughts, which was why he often tried away from Virgil as much as Patton.

He wasn’t ready for that kind of confrontation, and the Director must have been able to tell, because he physically looked like he didn’t want Roman to go.

“I actually didn’t expect to find you here, though I’m not entirely surprised,” the Playwright must not have been privy to these feelings, glancing between the Director and Roman, shock still gracing his features.

“Really now,” the Director said, tilting his head, “Why not?”

“I just didn’t know Roman had met you, but of course, even I’m not as omniscient as Creativity himself,” the Playwright stepped closer, reaching toward Roman. “You have to come up, though. Virgil said everyone’s worried.”

Roman starred at the Playwright’s hand, unsure of what to do with the gesture. He knew everyone would be worried, on a baseline. Closed doors didn’t do well around the Mind Palace, especially his, especially after his splitting incident, but that didn’t mean he had to cater to everyone else’s worry. He was allowed privacy.

Before he formulated a response, though, the Director placed a hand in front of Roman. His smile toward the Playwright turned sour, lips pursed in a mix of thought and anger.

“He doesn’t have to go see Virgil if he doesn’t want to.” Roman felt some of the tension in his shoulder alleviate at the Director’s statement, as basic as it was.

The Playwright, on the other hand, didn’t seem to understand. He looked between Roman and the Director again, surprised even further by how familiar they seemed. There had been a fair amount of transparency in Roman’s relationships with all of the other advisors that there must be some dissonance to see him be so familiar with someone he hadn’t even expected Roman to know. Something about that surprise, the bait and switch, the lie, felt fulfilling.

“It wouldn’t be difficult to alleviate Virgil’s worried and tell him to leave again,” the Playwright explained slowly. “I’m sure, if Roman told him he wanted privacy, he would understand.”

“I’m sure, if Virgil could understand that, then he wouldn’t have tread where he shouldn’t. You can’t make him do anything.” The Director’s voice grew darker, hand unwavering.

“Make him?” the Playwright sounded so confused.

Roman was also confused where the Director’s notion came from, but it was validating to hear reminders that Roman’s decisions were his to make. But nothing in the Playwright’s tone was forceful.

For a moment, it seemed as though the Playwright would drop his confusion.

Until he took a step forward, toward the Director and Roman, with one hand outstretched. Roman didn’t know what he’d been planning, but he knew the Playwright wasn’t a sporadic man. He hated adding physicality to situations where debate and discussion could suffice. So, in hindsight, it was likely the Playwright was reaching out to make peace.

The moment passed in mere seconds.

He was taller than the Director by a noticeable few inches, so the Director bent his knees. He pushed Roman behind him with his outstretched arm, acting faster than either Roman or the Playwright could react to. The Director stuck his leg out and grabbed the Playwright by the fabric of his shirt, behind his neck. The Playwright, surprised by the sudden movements, tripped on his leg and let out a sharp gasp of surprise.

Besides them was the living room coffee table. As the Playwright fell, the Director redirected his head toward the table, shoving him away from Roman.

It felt very spur of the moment, and it happened in a true moment. The Playwright let out a scream, sharp and fearful, before his forehead collided with the edge of the metal table. He fell beneath it unconscious. Blood pooled at the Director’s feet as he stood back up.

Roman’s hands shot to his face immediately, as soon as the Playwright started falling, and he could only stare in horror at the scene. The Director, too, seemed shocked at his own reaction. He starred at his blood-stained socks for a little while, breathing heavy enough for Roman to hear. It must be the adrenaline.

“I,” the Director’s voice caught in his throat.

Roman watched. Just watched. The Director swallowed, turning around to face Roman with a mirroring horrified expression, eyes wide with surprise. “You have to make him forget.”

“What?” Roman’s voice was strained, almost a whisper, and he cleared his throat to repeat. “Excuse me?”

What kind of request….?

“If Marlowe remembers this, we’re fucked. He knows you’re here. He’s going to think I attacked him. I-I did attack him,” The Director took a slow breath, turning to look at the body on the ground before shaking his head—unable to look. “David is going to kill me.

“Make him forget. He can stay here. For a bit. We can figure this out,” he put his hands up towards Roman. “We-The other Sides’re gonna follow Virgil. We both know that. And, uh. Only Marlowe knew I was here. So we’ve got time to figure out how to, uh. Play this off.”

Roman starred at him with wide eyes. The past two days had been such a long mess, he didn’t know what to do. Physically, he could remove the Playwright memories. He’d be a blank slate of a character, only backstory. What would that do? The Playwright’s backstory was that he was the Playwright. He didn’t have some elaborate parent-death or chosen-one-esque story that he could fall back on. Poor bastard wasn’t even the one who had Roman’s memories prior.

But the Director was right, in a way. If they wanted more time to think about everything—the other Sides were looking for him? How did Virgil get in here? Why would he be looking for Roman, it wasn’t uncommon for him to stomp away from a verbal duel, why now?—then they couldn’t have the Playwright ratting them out.

When he manipulated the Imagination directly, his powers were red. Remus’ were green. It was distinctive. So when Roman sank down, put a hand on the back of the Playwright’s head, his hand turned red.

It blended in with the blood.

Roman felt vile. He had to do this, or else the others would find him. A quiet, dull part of his mind told him that didn’t matter but….he didn’t want to be found. He didn’t.

He pulled gently, as though tugging the thoughts out, and something glistened red and gold as he did. Then, Roman let it go, and it disappeared. It reminded him a little of Dumbledore pulling his own memories out in Harry Potter. Roman didn’t feel much the chosen one, either, though.

“There,” he said quietly.

The Director let out a soft breath. It didn’t sound like either of them knew what to do, to be fair. Maybe the Director hadn’t even expected this.

“I’ll….here.” The Director looked up and pointed at the wall behind the couch.

The couch scooted forward a little, enough for there to be a walkway behind it, and the room simultaneously pulled away from the couch. Then, a door formed on the wall. It clicked once, then swung open. Another room.

Roman stood still, staring at his hands—was that magic or blood?—while the Director leaned down to pick the Playwright up. The man hadn’t moved since being bludgeoned by the table.

“Under the sink in the bathroom is a first aid kit,” the Director said, voice stoic, taking the reins on the situation, “I’ll make him a bedroom and bandage his head. Then he can stay for a day or two. We must figure out what to do, about the other Sides and about Marlowe.”

That was fair. He’d only stay a little.

Dimly, Roman remembered that this was the Imagination, he mastered this world, so he could technically get rid of the Playwright’s wound. He could get rid of his memory and the wound and send him right back to his home, right back to the Artist, good as normal and none the wiser.

But….something in the back of his head stopped him. And the Director pulled him into the other room faster than Roman could overcome whatever clouded thoughts were plaguing him.

[tsrookie]

Alright, so today’s the three-year anniversary of Reputation a.k.a the greatest album of all time, my baby, the light of my life, the album that deserved a Grammy (trying desperately not to think about the scene from Miss Americana😭), the album that introduced us to the most beautiful couple ever, the album that shut Kimye up, and I better stop now, or else I’m not gonna shut up.

So in honour of this momentous occasion (and the fact that I reached 200+ followers! Thank you so much you guys!🥺 Love you all 3000💙), here’s a loooooong post on why Reputation is the Ethan and MC album.

1. ...Ready For It?

No one has to know

Throwback to MC saying the exact same words back in Miami.

In the middle of the night, in my dreams

You should see the things we do, baby, mmm

In the middle of the night, in my dreams

I know I'm gonna be with you

So I take my time

Remember back when MC asked for Ethan to get into bed right away during their first time? Ethan told them that he had dreamt about the moment for months, so he wasn’t going to rush it.

2. End Game

Big reputation, big reputation

Ooh you and me would be a big conversation

These two dating would be the talk of the hospital, and they know it.

Even when we'd argue, we don't do it for long

And you understand the good and bad, end up in the song

For all your beautiful traits, and the way you do it with ease

For all my flaws, paranoia, and insecurities

Think these lines are pretty self-explanatory😌

I hit you like bang

We tried to forget it, but we just couldn't

*gets war flashbacks of the ‘reset’ phase*😭 They tried to make it work, but we all know how Ch 8 of book 2 went😌

I swear I don't love the drama, it loves me

Perfect for our chaotic MC😌

3. Don’t Blame Me

Do I... really have to explain this one?

For you, I would cross the line

I would waste my time

I would lose my mind

They say she's gone too far this time

Do we need a recap of our rule-breaking MC?

And baby, for you, I would fall from grace

Just to touch your face

If you walk away

I'd beg you on my knees to stay

He was willing to risk his (mostly) rule-abiding reputation for being with MC. And there’s no way he wouldn’t beg for MC not to leave him if he ever screwed up🤷‍♀️

4. Delicate

This ain't for the best

My reputation's never been worse, so

You must like me for me

Ethan stood by MC’s side throughout the Ethics hearing, when her reputation was completely smeared, and people only saw her as a patient murderer. He didn’t know about the sabotages, but he would’ve definitely supported her if he had known.

We can't make

Any promises now, can we, babe?

Commitment-phobia🙃

Sometimes I wonder when you sleep

Are you ever dreaming of me?

Sometimes when I look into your eyes

I pretend you're mine, all the damn time

They spent so much of time apart, not able to be with each other, so the least they could do was dream of being with each other all the time.

5. So It Goes (an underrated af bop)

What can I say... it’s a sex song, okay? Don’t make me go into the details😂 Just listen to the lyrics, and all will be clear.

6. Gorgeous (Tumblr won’t let me put any more links)

MC’s eternal anthem to Ethan.

Whisky on ice, Sunset and Vine

You've ruined my life, by not being mine

We all know Ethan loves Whiskey, and the second line? C’mon!

You're so gorgeous

I can't say anything to your face

'Cause look at your face

And I'm so furious

At you for making me feel this way

But, what can I say?

You're gorgeous

Ethan Ramsey is famous for two reasons. One: his smart brain, I guess😒 Two: HIS LOOKS!!! HE’S GORGEOUS, AND DON’T DENY IT.

And you should think about the consequence

Of you touching my hand in the darkened room (dark room, dark room)

Ah, the olden days of hand holding in the diagnostics office🥺

Ocean blue eyes looking in mine

I feel like I might sink and drown and die

No explanation required.

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah

There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have

You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad

The wonderful will-they-won’t-they saga. The frustrating hot-and-cold behaviour. The ‘We can’t’, ‘It’s unethical’ and ‘It’s complicated’. MC deserves an award for her patience😓

7. King Of My Heart

I'm perfectly fine, I live on my own

I made up on my mind, I'm better off bein' alone

Ethan ‘I don’t believe in soulmates and nobody’s waiting at home’ Ramsey.

And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for

King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa

And all at once, you are all I want, I'll never let you go

King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa

This could be from both Ethan and MC’s perspectives. The love they share isn’t something that you get easily. It’s something that MC has waited for her whole life, and something Ethan never knew he needed, but now can’t live without🥺

Late in the night, the city's asleep

Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep

Change my priorities

The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury

This was definitely Ethan throughout book 2, after he finally gave in. He let go of his previous rules and regulations, especially during the time of the attack. He was clearly affected, and once MC was alright, his main priority was her, and her alone.

Is the end of all the endings?

My broken bones are mending

With all these nights we're spending

Ethan’s been burnt a lot in the past. But all those wounds are now healing thanks to MC.

Up on the roof with a school girl crush

Drinking beer out of plastic cups

They act like lovesick teenagers around each other, like, that’s literally their description if you choose to kiss Ethan for the first time in Chapter 14 of book 2!😅

Say you fancy me, not fancy stuff

Baby, all at once, this is enough

We all know about his initial fear of his mother reaching out to him for the sake of his money. To him, MC not talking advantage of him is a pretty big deal, even though it’s never mentioned. You just know, you know?🥺

8. Dancing With Our Hands Tied

My, my love had been frozen

Deep blue, but you painted me golden

Again, Ethan doesn’t have the best experience with love. But MC changed that.

I'm a mess, but I'm the mess that you wanted

This could go both ways, cause they’re both piping hot messes😬 (but love each other anyway🥺)

The rest of this song could have made so much more sense for them if we had gotten some sort of a secret relationship storyline. But oh well, I’m definitely not complaining about the gala😌 (and definitely not believing any of the supposed cancelled storylines)

9. Dress

Our secret moments

In a crowded room

They got no idea

About me and you

I mean... pretty obvious😌

Even in my worst times, you could see the best of me

And I woke up just in time

Now I wake up by your side

My one and only, my lifeline

This is practically Ethan’s train of thought, and you can’t convince me otherwise.

As for the rest of the steamier lyrics... I’ll um... let you guys listen to it yourselves😁

10. Call It What You Want

I wrote an entire fic inspired by this song, so excuse me for the shameless self-promo, but go give it a read?🥺👉👈(totally fine if you don’t! I’ve probably made so many posts about this song that y’all know the meaning anyway😅)

11. New Years Day

Don't read the last page

But I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you're turning away

I want your midnights

But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

MC has always stayed by Ethan’s side, even when he’s pushed her away. These lines perfectly explain how she wants his worst times, and his best, the midnights they spend staying up together, and the moments where it’s just the two of them, when everyone else has left, like the aftermath of a New Years party (still mad at the fact that we didn’t get to see the gang celebrate New Year together😭)

I'll be there if you're the toast of the town babe

Or if you strike out and you're crawling home

The above explanation for these lines as well.

Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere

Becoming strangers to each other would be their worst nightmares. Knowing that the other was out there in the world somewhere, but not being in their lives would kill them.

You and me forevermore

These two are each other’s soulmate, they know it, even if they haven’t said it yet. Forever wouldn’t be enough for them to shower each other with they love they hold for each other. But it’s a good start.

——————————

If you guys made it this far, then I honestly love you more than words can ever express🥺💙 Thanks for putting up with my Swiftie-Directioner-Ethan stan ass, cause I dunno if I’d ever be able to handle someone like myself. And if you read all the above stuff, then I hope you wanna know why this album means so much to me.

Reputation is perceived as a dark album, when in reality it’s truly about finding love amongst all the noise. This album, and Taylor and Joe’s story, taught me what true love actually is, and Ethan and MC cemented that. This album and these two couples (quite literally) saved my life.

The most beautiful part about both these relationships is that even though they never showed it openly, for the sake of their relationships, both Ethan(in the story) and Joe stood by the side of the one’s they loved, despite half of the people who they knew hating on them, or betraying them. And I think that’s what’s truly important. Forming a true relationship like that, be it platonic or romantic, is long lasting, and I hope everyone finds those kind of people to fill their hearts with. Sending much love, and sorry for being a huge sap😅💙

Tagging a couple of my Swiftie homies: @swiftlydarcy @nikki-2406 @dxnicaramsey @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @drariellevalentine @justanotherrookie

[fly-pow-bye]

Powerpuff Girls 2016 - “Bedtime” & “Mojo Jojo Builds a Shelf”

Bad time.

Bedtime

Bedtime. Sounds like it’s going to be a really exciting title. Not a pun, just what this short is focused on. The lack of creativity certainly fits this short, let me tell you.

If I were to say one positive about this episode, it's that they managed to get all of their new personalities in the opening scene. Blossom wants to read her book, Buttercup is stealing Octi, and Bubbles is crying about it. It's not too far off from the original, which is always a plus. The Professor comes into the room, and tells the girls to go to sleep so they can take a good family photo.

There’s a running joke about an incident with a werewolf ray ruining the last time he tried this. This leads to the a running joke where the Professor, along with getting annoyed with the Puffs lack of sleeping, is worried that they're going to go werewolf again.

Professor: I'm starting to hear a lot of howling...figuratively...I think...

See, it's funny because...the full moon comes out at night? You really got to stretch for these jokes to make sense. At least this short is giving me something else for the Halloween season. Werewolves, oooh!

Buttercup has a song in her head that just goes "who’s up in the club, youse up in the club." I guess it's supposed to be a joke on how Buttercup is "staying up". Blossom calls it the worst song ever. Eh, it’s pretty close, but I can think of a few others that are worse.

This is certainly coming to mind. Emmy nominated episode. Yeesh.

As for the other two, Blossom bothers the other two with her headlight, as she has to read the latest financial reports. I get it, she's supposed to be a boring nerd who likes boring things, but isn't the target audience supposed to relate to this girl? Bubbles just randomly has a tea party in the middle of the night, and Buttercup just says "seriously". The "fist bump" for random scenes.

This episode takes a lot from I’ll Be Bake, except it is the Professor that is the comic foil, and with sleeping instead of baking. I didn't particularly like that one, but I think I have a newfound slight appreciation of it compared to this. At least I'll Be Bake stuck to the "cooking badly" theme, but they pretty much give up halfway through this three minute short.

They repeatedly just have the Professor catch one of the Powerpuff Girls in the act of doing something that involves them being awake. They repeat the Blossom reading gag, because they couldn't think of something else for her to do. As for the other jokes, I can relate to the Powerpuff Girls trying to sneak some video games at night, but I don't get the construction work joke. Is it funny because working is the opposite of sleeping?

Oh, and they randomly turn into werewolves for a split second, only for the Powerpuff Girls to deny it happened. That is the only payoff for the werewolf "joke".

It all ends with a cut to all three girls partying to the "whose up in the club" song. The one song Blossom was annoyed with a minute ago. Consistency, what's that?

Oh yeah, and Allegro makes a cameo for no reason whatsoever. He is not the villain of the short, he is never mentioned again, he is just floating across the screen as if his appearance adds anything to anything. They must know the critics exist, and they put him in just so they can get a reaction from them. That is the only explanation I can think of...and I guess they succeeded?

After all of that, the Powerpuff Girls get a bad family picture, as the Professor is tired, and the Puffs are sleeping. It's the expected outcome. The only real joke here is that the person behind the camera is that incompetent camerawoman from Bubbles of the Opera. Was the photo doomed anyway? Who knows, and who cares.

Mojo Jojo Builds A Shelf

I made fun of this title before, but this is actually a plot with a lot of potential. This is especially true if we’re thinking about the actual Mojo Jojo. I can imagine him trying to put together this shelf, failing miserably in wacky ways, and saying "curses". Two out of three isn't bad. Seriously, he never says "curses"!

The "great and evil Mojo Jojo", who has to tell people that he's great and/or evil, is about to enact his most diabolical plan...making an evil shelf for his evil snowglobes. Considering the real Mojo Jojo, it's actually not too far off from him making a ship in a bottle.

Specifically, it's a Forgen Klippylla shelf, Forgen being an obvious parody of ready-to-assemble furniture company Ikea. Their logo is even a blue rectangle inside of a yellow circle, the exact opposite of Ikea's. Most of the jokes that involve them involve them talking like the Swedish Chef from the Muppets. Get it, because Ikea is from Sweden!

Much like I’ll Be Bake and Bedtime, it’s a one joke premise centered around failure. He tries to put up some books to keep the boards from falling over, and they fall over sideways. He uses the helpline, which he accidently dials the number that ends the call. The most random joke is where he tries his hardest to make the shelf, thinks he succeeded, but accidently made a pair of wooden pants. He phones the Forgen help line again, and apparently the helpline actually has an option for that!

There's actually a few times I cracked a smile at this, mostly because it's pretty relatable. Sure, there's moments like this in Bedtime, the relatable part, not the smile part, but it's far better here.

There's one scene where he accidentally hammers himself in the eye, a joke straight out of The Simpsons Movie. In the rest of the short, he has an eyepatch on, only taking it off in this one scene where he lasers everything in a failure-inspired rage. An attention to detail that is rarely seen in this show.

I actually have no problem with that laser scene for two reasons. It reminds me of the Donald Duck rage scenes, which I can totally see either Mojo or Reboot Jojo doing. The other reason is that, along with the first scene, it shows that the writers are aware they're writing jokes about supervillains failing at making shelves rather than just a person making shelves. A low bar, but a bar they clear nonetheless.

Despite all of that, he eventually makes the shelf. It's literally the next scene after that laser scene. No explanation, which is actually the joke. The very last joke actually got a smile out of me. Sure, it’s expected, but it actually has surprisingly good timing. All in all, it's the best of the four.

All in all, these shorts...exist. At least when you reached the absolute bottom, the only way to go is up. Even Bedtime isn’t as bad as Bubbs and You-Know-Who Get The Mail. Next, we go from slightly related to Halloween to the actual Halloween special.

← I’ll Be Bake & Blissfully Unaware (shorts) ☆ Midnight at the Mayor’s Mansion →

[beforethepeach]

wo9k is also pretty emo:

I'm buried down with brothers / Who forgot the right things to say

Now, it's late and the digits hit 6 / I'm ready to fall back in the dark. / Right before I hit the ground / I swear I saw a spark. / I saw the sun between the blinds. / I saw the truth behind your eyes. /& I saw a window to climb through, / To take me away from you.

I swear to God / I wont die alone. / I've seen the end of my life / And it's not here.

Outside it's cold, but inside I'm burning / My cheeks are on fire, this is all part of learning.

It's like a gravitational, (A good to the outside) To eject the reject (Until we're nothing more than better than) What they say (About best friends today) I would be caught, Dead in this place.

We might not make it tomorrow. / If you see my conscience let him know: / It's a long way down, / So you'd better look out below.

So I'll trick & I'll treat until I deplete, / And spend these Summers face down on the couch, but never falling asleep.

I was not taught, / To be a robot. / & listen to everything they say /Until my last chance is gone. / & I was told, / That I might die but I'll never get old, / Even as my mind descends, / I'll thank God I had real friends.

But when best friends are dead, / & the day is at it's end, / I'm stuck in days dreaming / Of ghosts & best friends.

I saw your true colors / Like the / Ghost of my / Lost love of life. / But seriously / Is this the best you can do, to fix yourself up into living what you call a / Happy life?

You're like a priest so scared of hell, / That you'll preach anything / You're told to a hungry crowd. / You took something from me that I wont get / Back.

I could never forget where I came from / But sometimes forgetting is a new beginning. / But when it came time to walk myself back home /I spent a lifetime lost on a trail all alone.

I never lied to you / But believe me I tried to / If you believe in me / You'll drown out at sea.

I had all my faith in you / But nothing lasts forever. / You & I are living proof / And I wont make that mistake again.

I'm not afraid to spill my guts in front of people that don't care. / It's all I ask for is just one chance.

I hide my feelings under sheets / But the sheets don't touch me / It's just that these assumptions burn me / They burn me. / I've got friends in high places / But my back up's been wasted on / Situations like these / My vices come as they please.

TBPT was also pretty edgy:

You huffed and you puffed and you blew that fucker down. / Even if you screamed, / It's still not enough to say you made a sound.

Doctor Doctor! / Can you fix yourself, / At least to smother me the same.

I don't even know if I want the truth and / I still have the pictures from the photograph booth / And no I didn't burn them if it's what I said and / I'm nothing like that monster that's in your bed. [i would like to note that the last line is screamed and i fucking love that]

(Oh, shit!)

It seems my heart has runaway after you / Because he needs you too

If it takes my whole life, I'd sit here just to watch you smile and I know: / You don't know! /Know how much! / Much you mean to me and, / I! I want to! / Let you know! / That I care! too!

If meeting you could make these things so simple, / Then maybe you could feel this way, / At least for tonight.

Basically just all of The Airplane's Not Supposed To Fly This High

11:11 wont save you from the mess that you're in / And these actions are as loud as the ones who scream them.

also all of Zillazilla Vs. Owbobreadthunder

I'd actually argue that certain newer parx songs are really emo, lyrically, and a handful are sonically pretty emo (its hard to really place them bc emo is a subgenre of punk and posthardcore, but when it's individual songs instead of a band as a whole it's kinda like.. is Little Violence just generally punk? is TANTRUM just generally hardcore? idk. No Capes is definitely emo idc)

waterparks as a band isnt emo at all but airplane conversations is emo. 

proof:

“I’ll be the silver lining around your fence / you use to protect yourself from all the world / and its sharp teeth / because my open hand and heart think you belong with me” 

“if I bottle up a monster / it only grows, grows, grows / then why should I expect it gone / before I’m bones, bones, bones”

“save your futures and save yourselves / from industrial industry hells”

“I can’t stop the future from settling / but I can change the way it feels”

“one of these days / someone will come to replace me along with the dreams I’ve got / and make these modern days seem small, but / this time I’ll do things the way you wanted / it’s not right, but it’s just the way you want it”

“sticks and stones may break my bones but / (what happens next?) I guess we’ll never know”

“it’s just you and me / through all these inconsistencies / it’s like the way you move / when no one’s watching you”

“they say that / this is the part where you cut your losses / this is the part where you get a job / this is the part where you settle for less / just like you never wanted to”

“I can’t wait to go outside / and spend my summers contemplating what I’m gonna do with my life / and I still don’t know”

“and I looked but I can’t pretend / and I think and I think and I think about the end / and how I know, I know it’s coming soon ”