#denial is a 6 letter word

[nnnaaahhhiiiaaa]

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐀𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐭.2 - choi seung-hyun

Summary | Now that you know who your secret admirer is, the two of you go on a small date.

Pairing | Bully! Choi Seung-hyun x Fem! Reader.

Genre | 2000s school era.

Warnings | Fluff, veeery romantic.

Author's note | English isn't my first language, so I apologize for any spelling mistakes.

Honestly, you never would’ve expected it. You never thought a few letters could change your perspective so much. But here you were, trapped in thoughts and emotions you didn’t know how to handle. And, strangely, for some reason, it didn’t completely disgust you.

During class, your mind wandered. It was hard to concentrate because every time you could, your eyes would find him. It wasn’t something you were looking for, but it happened inevitably. And though you tried to look away, a part of you stayed focused on him.

You hated to admit it, but you knew the truth: you had fallen for the person who had been sending you letters without you knowing his name. Now that you knew it was Seung-hyun, you refused to accept those feelings. But inside, you knew that denial was costing you more than you wanted to accept.

You decided to talk to your best friend to distract yourself a little, but that didn’t help much either. She, with her mischievous smile, couldn’t help but bring up Seung-hyun, the letters, and the expensive gifts. She was subtly pushing you to take the first step and approach him.

“Come on, girl. I know you’re dying to talk to him and tell him about the letters.”

Mi-eun looked at you with a teasing smile, enjoying your reaction too much.

“Stop it, Mi-eun.” You rolled your eyes, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “We’re supposed to not get along. I don’t know why he sent me those letters… He didn’t even seem like the one writing them.”

Mi-eun didn’t insist anymore. She just shared a meaningful look before letting the topic fade. You both waited for class to end, eager to head home and relax.

When the moment finally came, you followed your usual routine. You changed your shoes at the locker and prepared to leave. This time, you were calmer. You didn’t expect more letters or gifts. After all, everyone knew who had been sending them.

But apparently, that didn’t matter to Seung-hyun.

Because there it was. Another letter.

“What? But…” You murmured, confused.

The envelope rested in your locker, untouched, as if it had been waiting for you. With trembling hands, you took it and opened it quickly. This time, the scent was unmistakable. A faint trace of cologne that he always wore.

Your pulse quickened.

Impatiently, your eyes scanned the words written in a familiar handwriting.

“For you, one last time,

I suppose it doesn’t make sense to hide anymore. You know who I am.

I didn’t plan for you to find out this way, but now that you have… I don’t see why I should keep avoiding the inevitable.

I know you probably still don’t understand why I did this. Maybe you think it was a joke or that I’m not the kind of person who would write something like this. But the truth is, every word you’ve read was sincere.

I don’t expect an immediate response. I don’t expect this to change what you think of me overnight. But I want a chance.

If you’re willing to listen, I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow at Cheonggyecheon Park at 6:00 p.m. Just you and me.

If you don’t go, I’ll understand.

But if you do… I promise you won’t regret it.

— Seung-hyun”

Your eyes remained fixed on the letter, your thoughts racing at full speed. You couldn’t stop thinking about how all of this felt so… unreal. The guy you barely ever talked to, the one who annoyed you with his arrogant attitude, was now inviting you out, for a date. And the most surreal part of it all was that, despite everything, a part of you felt an odd excitement as you read his words.

The heat rushed to your cheeks so fast you couldn’t even control it. Your heart was pounding in your chest. You looked around, nervous, afraid someone might see you like this, so exposed. But at least, to your relief, the hallway was practically empty. There was no one left. It was the perfect time to process what you’d just read.

But then, just when you thought you were safe, Mi-eun appeared out of nowhere, her energy overflowing. Without thinking, you grabbed her arm and pulled her toward you, seeking comfort in her presence.

“Mi-eun, he sent me another letter…” you whispered quickly, your heart still in your throat. The paper felt heavy in your hands, as if you were carrying a huge revelation.

“What?!” Mi-eun let out a shriek, making you jump. But you quickly gave her a light tap on the arm, silently asking her to lower her volume. You didn’t want to attract attention, but the excitement on her face left no doubt she was as surprised as you were. “Sorry, sorry. But, another? Didn’t you already know who it was?”

You lowered your head, feeling a whirlwind of emotions. What you felt was confusing. Part of you still couldn’t believe it was him, the guy you’d considered arrogant and annoying so many times. But at the same time, a spark of curiosity grew inside you.

“Yes, but this time…” you stopped for a second, looking at the letter in your hand as if you were searching for an answer in the words written. “He asked me to meet him at Cheonggyecheon Park.”

Mi-eun’s expression changed instantly. Her face lit up with a smile so big you could almost hear it from far away. You knew what that meant. You knew she wouldn’t let it go until you figured it out, and she’d pressure you with questions until you agreed to the date.

“WHAT? Cheonggyecheon Park?” she repeated, her eyes shining with excitement. It was so obvious she was enjoying every second of your confusion.

You looked at the letter again, as if hoping the words would change, that it would all be a joke, but no. It was clear. It was real.

“Yes…” you responded, with a sigh, feeling a mix of uncertainty and excitement taking over you. Mi-eun didn’t take long to start jumping up and down, excited.

“Oh my God! This is epic!” she said, almost shouting at you, as if she were living the situation instead of you.

You covered your face with your hands, though you knew there was no way to hide what you were feeling. Not only because now Seung-hyun knew you knew who he was, but because the date seemed more real than ever.

“Mi-eun… I don’t know if I’m ready for this.” you confessed, a sigh escaping your lips. You knew this would change everything. The letters, the mystery, now everything was about to become much more personal.

Mi-eun looked at you, her eyes gleaming with complicity.

“Ready? Who needs to be ready? You’re going, of course! And you’ll see how all this gets even more interesting.”

You sighed. You knew there was no escape. And even less, because you knew Mi-eun would be your personal stylist tomorrow.

The next day arrived faster than you expected. With it came the bags of clothes you had bought with Mi-eun the previous afternoon.

You weren’t exactly a fashion expert. Most of your wardrobe consisted of hand-me-downs from your older sisters, which had never bothered you. In your family, there were no unnecessary luxuries or excessive spending on superficial things like brand-name clothing. Your mother had always done everything possible to support the family since your father passed away four years ago, and you never wanted to be an extra burden.

But this time was different. This time, for some reason, you had agreed to buy something just for yourself. And although the idea still felt a little strange, you had to admit it excited you more than you had expected.

"Alright, what do you think of this one?" Mi-eun asked, holding up an outfit with evident satisfaction.

It consisted of a long-sleeved black sweater that left the shoulders bare, a brown plaid skirt that reached just above the knees, elegant black shoes, and a beret in the same color as the skirt. The combination was simple, but it had a sophisticated and feminine air that you would never have chosen for yourself.

"Wow, you really know fashion," you commented with a light laugh, surprised at how well all the pieces fit together.

"Obviously." Mi-eun smiled proudly. "Now try it on, come on."

You didn’t argue and went to the mirror after putting it on. The image your reflection returned left you speechless. You weren’t the type to dress up too much, but you had to admit the outfit suited you better than you imagined.

"What did I tell you?" Mi-eun clicked her tongue, triumphant. "It looks perfect on you. Seung-hyun is going to go crazy when he sees you."

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile.

Time advanced mercilessly, and soon the clock hands marked 5:45 p.m.

"Alright, it’ll be six soon. You’d better head out now," Mi-eun urged, giving you a thumbs-up with an enthusiastic smile. "Good luck!"

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of nerves swirling in your stomach. Finally, you gave your friend one last smile and hurried out of the house, not wanting to risk being late.

Cheonggyecheon Park wasn’t too far away, so you decided to walk instead of taking the bus. The cool evening air brushed against your skin, and with each step, you felt your heart beating harder.

When you arrived, you spotted him immediately. Seung-hyun was already there, standing next to a lit streetlamp, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. The soft glow illuminated his face with a warm light, highlighting the gentle features of his face and the deep gleam of his dark eyes. It seemed like he had been waiting for a while because as soon as he saw you, his expression lit up with a mix of relief and admiration, as if his whole body relaxed upon confirming that you had really come.

For a moment, it felt like the entire world went silent. The distant murmur of the city, the footsteps of passersby, even the cold wind sneaking between the streets—all seemed to fade as he looked at you with an intensity that was hard to ignore. His gaze traveled over every detail of your outfit, lingering just a second longer on the beret that matched your skirt, as if engraving the image into his memory. The way his eyes sparkled made heat rise to your cheeks before you could stop it.

"Wow…" he finally murmured, his voice barely a whisper that the wind almost carried away. His lips curved into a lopsided smile, one that couldn’t hide the awe in his expression. "You look beautiful."

The blush on your cheeks deepened. You weren’t used to receiving compliments like that, especially not from someone like him, whose mere presence had the power to make your heart race. You lowered your gaze slightly, playing with the sleeve of your sweater in an attempt to disguise your sudden nervousness. "Thanks," you replied softly, unable to stop a small smile from forming. "You look good too."

And it was true. He was wearing a gray turtleneck sweater, an elegant black coat that gave him a sophisticated air, and dark jeans that accentuated his natural poise. His hair fell slightly over his forehead in that perfect balance between messy and carefully styled, as if it hadn’t taken him much effort to look that good.

Seung-hyun let out a soft laugh, lowering his gaze for a second before looking back at you. There was something in his expression, something sincere and warm that made you feel special. "I’m glad you came," he said honestly. "I was afraid you’d change your mind at the last minute."

"And miss the chance to see you this nervous?" you teased, trying to lighten the tension in your chest, though deep down, you knew you were just as nervous.

He let out a low chuckle and shook his head, amused by your comment. Then, without losing that playful air that characterized him, he took a step closer, reducing the distance between you. The scent of his cologne, a mix of wood and something subtly sweet, immediately enveloped you, making your breathing slow down—a little more conscious of his proximity.

"I don’t want to sound impatient, but…" he raised an eyebrow with a smile that sent a shiver down your spine, "can I hold your hand?"

Your heart skipped a beat. The question was so simple, so innocent in essence, but the way he said it—with that soft tone and expectant gaze—made a chill run down your spine. You didn’t trust your voice, so you simply extended your hand toward him, feeling your fingers tremble slightly.

Seung-hyun took it gently, intertwining his fingers with yours in a warm, secure grip. His touch was firm but not dominant, as if he wanted to make sure you were comfortable, that you wouldn’t let go unless you really wanted to. For a moment, neither of you said anything. You just stayed like that, feeling the light but significant weight of the contact, letting the night move at its own pace.

Finally, he gave your hand a small squeeze and smiled tenderly, tilting his head slightly. "Come on, there’s a place I want to show you."

As you walked together along the sidewalk illuminated by streetlights, the atmosphere took on a special warmth despite the cold night air. Seung-hyun never let go of your hand, and though at first, the contact sent a tingling sensation through your stomach, you soon got used to the comforting feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours. As you walked, the city’s bustle faded into the background, and the sound of your footsteps became the only thing perceptible in that quiet corner.

"Where are you taking me?" you asked curiously, watching his profile as he kept his gaze forward, a faint smile drawn on his lips.

"It's a surprise," he replied with an air of mystery. Then, he turned his face toward you, his eyes shimmering with an amused glint. "I promise it's worth it."

The tone of his voice and the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. You didn’t insist any further; you simply let him guide you, enjoying the walk and the slow pace at which you moved forward. Every now and then, his thumb would gently brush the back of your hand—an almost unconscious gesture that sent warmth spreading from your chest to the tips of your fingers.

After a few more minutes of walking, you arrived at a small park hidden between the buildings. It wasn’t luxurious or particularly striking, but it had a special charm. The streetlights cast a soft glow over the stone pathway, and the trees swayed gently with the night breeze. In the center of the park, there was a small, tranquil lake reflecting the starry sky.

"Wow…" you exhaled without realizing it, mesmerized by the view.

Seung-hyun glanced at you out of the corner of his eye with a satisfied expression. "I knew you’d like it. Not many people come here at night, so it’s a good place to find peace… and to share special moments."

His last words made your stomach flutter with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You felt the air grow a little heavier as he, still holding your hand, led you to the edge of the lake. Seung-hyun stopped and, with a smooth yet deliberate motion, turned you slightly so that you were facing him.

"You know…" he began in a low voice, as if afraid of breaking the magic of the moment. "I've been wanting to do this for a while."

Your breathing became erratic. His hands slowly slid to your wrists, his touch firm yet delicate, as if testing how close he could get without startling you. His gaze flickered to your lips for a fleeting second before meeting your eyes again, and your heart pounded so hard you were sure he could hear it too.

"If at any moment you want me to stop…" he left the sentence hanging, giving you the chance to step back if you wished. But you didn’t.

Instead, you raised one hand and placed it on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath the fabric of his sweater. It was just as fast as yours. That gave you the confidence to slowly close your eyes, leaning in just a few centimeters toward him.

He needed no further invitation. Seung-hyun closed the distance with gentle ease, and with a contained sigh, his lips brushed against yours in a slow, warm kiss—filled with emotions that had been held back for too long. The entire world seemed to disappear in that instant. It was just the two of you, with the reflection of the stars in the lake and the cold breeze wrapping around you in a silent embrace.

It was a sweet kiss, unhurried yet full of meaning. His hands traveled up to your face, holding it tenderly as he deepened the kiss with care, as if wanting to etch every second into his memory. And you reciprocated with the same intensity, letting yourself get lost in the feeling of being exactly where you wanted to be.

When you finally pulled apart, your foreheads rested against each other. Seung-hyun smiled softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

"Definitely worth the wait," he murmured with a playful smile, making you laugh softly as warmth crept back into your cheeks.

And in that moment, under the starry sky, with his hand still holding yours, you knew that this night would be engraved in your memory forever.

@leni111

[ninikrumbs]

After you

Satoru gojo x reader. birthday special. angst angst angst. im sowwy. changes to 1st person halfway through. fluff if you squint very hard. feat. Hiromi

You stirred gently out of your sleep, eyes slowly opening. And for a moment everything was hazy, then you realized you fell asleep on the sofa of your living room.

Pushing yourself halfway up, the sound of water dripping on paper caught your attention as you glanced down at the array of photos scattered beside your chest. A hand flew to your face when you realized the abundance of tears free falling from your cheeks to the mementos below.

Echoes of his voice and flashes of his smile still lingered in your glazed mind making your lips tremble as a knot of emotion lodged on your throat. It took everything in you not to sob.

All at once it came back to you, waking up in the middle of the night, unable to go to sleep. So you decided to go to the ktichen but stopping short when you habitually opened your phone and saw the date. Time halted to a stop, you stopped breathing altogether as your hands slightly trembled around the phone.

Everything was a blur after that, and somehow you found yourself at your living room with a box full of mementos from what seemed like a another lifetime ago. There was a time when the mere sight of this box - that you skillfully hid at the back of your closet - brought you to tears and sometimes it still does.

Memories of your youth stared back at you. From your high school days to the your time as a teacher at Jujutsu High. Photos of a white haired boy with a smile that could rival the sun made your heart ache. Especially the strip of pictures the both of you took in one of those vintage photobooths. The both of you looked so young, so happy, not yet tainted by the darkness of the world, still filled with so much hope for the future. Tears lined your eyes once more.

You didn't know when you fell asleep, probably when your eyes got too heavy. Wiping your tears, you stood up and walk to the window. The moon was bright and full, you often talked to the moon on nights like this. Talking to it as if he could hear your voice.

Hey, Satoru

Its been almost 6 years since you left. 6 years when my life got torn in half. When the news of your death shook me to my core and my world came crashing down all at once.

I remember the denial and the anger. I cursed the universe for taking you away, before bargaining with every God and being out there to bring you back to me. And for a while I thought I'd never accept it and maybe some part of me still hasn't.

After the war against Sukuna, grief overtook me. I was a mere shell of who I used to be. Its like a noose was tied aroud my heart. Even breathing proved difficult in a world without you. My days were empty and monotonous. Only waking up to eat then sleep, and sometimes I wished I wouldn't wake up at all so that Id see your face once again. Its like I was drowning in the middle of the ocean, waves pulling me down, not a drop of hope that Id ever reach the shore.

I saw you everywhere. In the bright blue sky under the morning sun. In the beach where the seas reflected your eyes. When the snow falls and sticks to the ground. Things that once made me happy were then only constant reminders of what Ive lost.

And when I received the letter that you wrote to me, every word was a stab to the heart.

I want you to live, sweets. I want you to get everything , do everything you've ever wanted. To never settle. To love again- though Ill probably haunt him for his entire life.

It made me laugh bitterly, because didn't you know that everything I wanted died along with you?

Yet I tried, I tried for you, Satoru. And for the people around me.

After some time, I went out. Started teaching again, hoping to live up to the legacy you left behind. Ate lunch with Shoko, guided missions with the students and even a few dates. None of it mattered though, because in the end, I searched for you in every room, and in every person I met. Hoping for just a glimpse of your smile or the twinkle of your bright azure eyes.

Eventually, with a heavy heart, I came to realize that you don't get that lucky twice. That what we shared was a once in a lifetime occurence.

"There you are, sweetheart. Couldn't sleep?" A deep voice laced with sleep reached my ears.

I glanced up to see Hiromi, walking down the stairs only in a pair of sweatpants.

Once he reached my place by the window, he saw my glossy eyes, the pictures in my hands and the opened box at the bottom of the sofa.

His eyes softened, filled with warmth and understanding as he realized, "Ah, Ill go make us some tea."

Then I found Hiromi. Or better yet, he found me. He was so kind and strong, so solid and dependable. He met me at my lowest, he comforted me as I cried about you. He was the lifeboat that found me, and he didn't just throw a buoy for me hold onto but he dove head first into the raging ocean and held me in his arms as he swam me to shore.

I never understood how he fell inlove with me regardless of the endless emotional baggage that I carried. And he has proven to me time and time again that he more than willing to carry it with me. He was so good to me, I didn't deserve him, I knew that.

You would've liked him, Satoru. Hiromi's love breathed life into me. He made me warm and tingly inside. My stomach still does backflips at the sight of him. I was smiling again, enjoying life again. I could finally recognize the girl in the mirror.

It wasn't an easy journey though. In the beginning of our relationship, guilt would eat my insides when I kept comparing him to you. His brown eyes to your blue. How sometimes, he reminds me of you. And how for awhile when he kissed me, I felt your lips. It was unfair to him, I know. Yet he was so calm and patient, voicing nothing but understanding and assurances when I cried and confessed to him my selfish thoughts.

I followed him to the kitchen. "I didn't mean to wake you, Hiromi."

He glanced back at me, smiling softly. "Its okay, sweetheart."

We sat in companionable silence as he made tea, before he set the cups on the counter infromt of me.

After a moment, his hand cupped my face, caressing it gently, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

I shook my head, "No.. Im okay, really."

He let out a breath and pulled me close by the waist, before pressing a kiss on my forehead, "Im here, always."

Hiromi astounds me everday, because I dont know If I would react the same way if the situation was reversed.

I pressed my cheek to his warm chest, breathing him in as I hugged him back. "I know and you'll never know how grateful I am for that."

Pulling back, I stood on my tiptoes and gave him a chaste kiss. A sign of my gratitude, but not for more than a second. It would be unfair for me to kiss him more when you still lingered at the back of my mind.

Even though now, I don't feel your lips anymore, Satoru. I feel Hiromi's, which made me happy. I love him so much, he deserves so much more than the chipped heart than I can give him yet he says its all he wants.

Seeing the melancholic look in my eyes, Hiromi rested his forehead on mine, "Ill go to bed first."

I know he thinks I want space from him when I get like this, when my memories of you plague my mind but he couldn't be more wrong. I pouted, "No, please stay."

He was my constant reminder of everything good in my life, he kept me afloat. He never made me feel crazy or stupid for being so hung up about my dead boyfriend. He was a saint and Ill spend the rest of my life making it up to him, to love him like he deserves.

He chuckled, "Okay, I can whip us some pancakes if you want?"

"That sounds amazing." I grinned, albeit a bit watery.

I did what you wanted , Satoru. I lived and loved again. I never settled for anything less. Thanks to you I found happiness and love, things I thought I would never have again after you. Though you will always own a piece of me, a piece of my heart and soul and I never want it back.

Happy Birthday, Satoru.

The years we spent together are still my favorite.

To me, you'll always be 29 and beautiful. And until our next blue spring arrives, Ill continue to live the life you gave yours for.

This made me cry when I thought of it. Thoughts?

[chadnathan257]

8 Ways To Forgive Like Jesus

It’s easier said than done.

Forgiveness is a profound act that often challenges our emotions and beliefs. Within the Christian faith, Jesus serves as the ultimate example of how to forgive. His teachings and actions reflect a deep understanding of grace, mercy, and compassion. Here is a guide on how to embrace forgiveness in a manner that mirrors the lessons from Jesus.

1. Understand the Nature of Forgiveness

To forgive like Jesus, one must first grasp that forgiveness is not about condoning or excusing harmful behavior. Instead, it involves letting go of anger and resentment. Jesus exemplified this through His words on the cross, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing" (Luke 23:34). He recognized the human condition and the struggles that lead people to hurt others.

2. Reflect on Your Own Need for Forgiveness

Before seeking to forgive others, it's important to acknowledge your own need for forgiveness. Reflecting on your faults and mistakes helps cultivate empathy. Jesus emphasized this point in Matthew 7:3-5, urging people to remove the plank from their own eye before addressing the speck in someone else’s. Understanding your own imperfections can soften the heart and open the door to forgiving others.

3. Pray for Strength and Guidance

Prayer is a powerful tool in the journey of forgiveness. It allows you to communicate with God, seeking the strength to release grievances and the wisdom to understand those who have wronged you. Jesus often retreated for prayer, showing its importance in seeking divine help. Pray regularly for the ability to forgive others, asking God to guide your heart in this sensitive process.

4. Adopt an Attitude of Love and Compassion

Jesus teaches us to love our neighbors as ourselves (Mark 12:31). When you approach forgiveness with an attitude of love and compassion, it becomes easier to let go of pain. Try to view the person who has hurt you through a lens of empathy, understanding their struggles and motivations. This perspective can help cultivate a forgiving spirit.

5. Take the First Step

Forgiveness often requires an active decision. Jesus took the initiative to forgive even when He was wronged without any acknowledgment from those who hurt Him. Follow His example by taking the first step—whether it’s reaching out to the person directly, writing a letter, or simply choosing to let go of the hurt in your heart.

6. Release Resentment and Bitterness

Holding onto resentment only weighs you down, affecting your mental and emotional health. Jesus embraced forgiveness with the intent to heal, as seen in His interactions with others. Make a conscious effort to replace bitterness with thoughts of grace and understanding. This might require repeated emotional work, but the freedom that comes from letting go is invaluable.

7. Seek Reconciliation When Possible

When relationships allow for it, seek reconciliation. While this is not always feasible or safe, Jesus showed the importance of restoring relationships. His encounters with those who wronged Him, such as Peter after his denial, exemplify the act of rebuilding trust. If the opportunity presents itself, approach reconciliation with a heart eager for restoration rather than judgment.

8. Embrace the Healing Process

Forgiveness can be a gradual journey rather than an instantaneous decision. Allow yourself the space and time to heal from the hurt. Jesus demonstrated patience and understanding throughout His ministry, reminding us that healing often takes time. Embrace the process, recognizing that healing is a key aspect of truly forgiving others.

Forgiveness is an essential part of the Christian life and a reflection of Jesus’s love and mercy. By understanding the nature of forgiveness, praying for strength, adopting compassion, and taking active steps, we can cultivate a spirit that mirrors Christ. Remember that forgiveness is a journey, one that can lead to inner peace and renewed relationships. By forgiving like Jesus, we not only honor His example but also free ourselves from the burdens of anger and hurt.

[likecanyoujustnot]

Cardan’s letters pov

Part 6: Jude

A/n: i wish holly hadve just had Asha put the letters in like a drawer and not burnt them because cardan really put his heart and soul into these letters

Part 5

I’d gone through an entire bottle of wine in the past hour. Plus whatever I’d had at dinner. I’d sworn I would drink as much after I became king.

The bomb had had one glass.

She looked at me with so much pity in her eyes I knew I must look like shit.

Another week had gone by with no correspondence from Jude. Not even a threat or anything to tell me she wasn’t coming back.

Just… nothing.

And it was killing me.

The bomb had been doing her usual routine spying from the rafters, keeping a special eye out for the ghost and anyone who worked for Madoc.

And upon seeing me absolutely wasted she’d taken me back to my room, where I’d proceeded to open another bottle.

“Why won’t she come home?” God I sounded pathetic.

She shrugged. “How am I supposed to know?”

“You’re her friend. You know how she works.”

“And so do you. You’re her… whatever.” Husband. The word meant nothing if no one but us knew. “You’ve known her longer than I have.”

And yet, I didn’t know why she stayed away.

“I just want her back.”

The bomb’s gaze softened, just a bit. “Maybe you shouldn’t’ve exiled her.”

“She killed my brother.”

“And yet you still want her back.”

“I don’t care about the brother part, it’s that if I hadn’t, Orlagh could’ve demanded a much higher price.” I took another gulp of the wine. “Her life.”

The bomb grabbed the glass from my hand. “No more of this. Don’t look at me like that, can’t have Jude back if you drink yourself to death.”

As much as I hated to admit it, she was right.

“You should get some sleep.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because you are my king, and I can’t have you acting like this.”

“You never cared before.” I leaned back on the couch and surveyed the spy.

“Jude was here before.”

“My every minute of existence does not revolve around her.”

She looked at me, as though I had found a way to lie. But it wasn’t a lie, otherwise I couldn’t have said it. My sleeping minutes didn’t revolve around her. Technicalities.

“You keep telling yourself that. The denial is so strong you can even convince yourself that’s true.”

“What do you mean?”

She leaned forward, forearms on her knees. “You, High King Cardan, in love with your mortal seneschal, Jude Duarte.”

She was good. And right. I couldn’t deny it, and the bomb knew that judging by the massive smile on her face.

“What do you know of love?”

“More than you’d think.” There was a sorrow in her voice. “But I do know you stare at Jude when you think no one is looking, you have been miserable since she left. You yearn for her presence, for her to be with you and it kills you that she’s not here.”

Damn.

“What about you and the roach?”

Her smile dropped a fraction. “That is none of your concern.”

“Well then my relationships shouldn’t be any of yours.”

There was a pause, she sighed. “Look at us, the king of elfhame and his spy, sharing our miserable lives full of unrequited love.”

I sat up. “You think she doesn’t feel the same?”

She shrugged and took a sip from the wine glass she’d removed from me. “Jude’s mind works in strange ways, but then again so does yours.” She laughed. “Exile the woman you love, great idea, what could possibly go wrong?”

I scowled and she laughed again. “You can’t even deny you love her.”

“We’ve established that.”

“That’s what makes it funny.”

“Not to me.”

She shrugged again. “She definitely feels something for you, I saw the hurt in her eyes that day on the beach. Probably would’ve pained her less had you stabbed her in the stomach.”

Screw it. “We’re ma-”

There was a knock on the door. And the bomb got up to answer it.

I couldn’t hear the hushed words exchanged. I’d been so close to telling her the truth. Jude was queen. Her queen. My queen. And my wife.

The bomb came back and grabbed her cloak, calling over her shoulder. “There’s been an issue with some of our spies, I have to go take care of it. Don’t drink anymore.”

As if I would listen to her.

Everyone said alcohol was bad for you, but I was the high king, I was stronger and more powerful than the average faerie. And it numbed the pain.

That’s what I told myself as I went through another bottle.

I woke up, head pounding and wanting to throw up. How much did I drink?

At least I was in my bed, nothing but a pair of pants on.

There were three empty bottles on the table outside my bed chamber. So I’d had two once the bomb left. Not as many as I feared.

There was a note on the table, from the bomb?

No, it was in my handwriting.

One word.

Over and over again.

Until it got to the second last, which was different.

JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE

please Jude.

There were a few ink splatters on the page. Giving the intention drunk me had pressed too hard with the quill.

Seeing it brought back the memory of when we’d been in the court of shadows after the coronation.

When she’d questioned me about finding it in my room.

I didn’t ask how she’d found it, or why she’d been in my room. I didn’t care. And I didn’t care now. I just cared that she wasn’t here.

I didn’t even put on a shirt as I walked out of my room.

“This letter gets to Jude Duarte, or I will personally see your demise.”

The man looked at me, fear in his eyes as he took me in. Mad gilt in my eyes, no shirt, undoubtedly smelling of wine. He grabbed the letter and ran off.

I went back to my room.

I’d barely slammed the door shut before I’d collapsed against it, head in my hands.

How had I gotten here?

Someone knocked on the door.

A deep rumbling voice reached me, muffled through the door. “Your majesty.”

“Go away.” I hissed.

“I’m afraid it’s urgent.” The fool didn’t even hesitate.

“It. Can. Wait.”

“Taryn Duarte is here to see you.”

“She can wait too.”

“She says her husband is dead.”

I flung open the door.

“What?”

I’m done!!

I’m not sure if I should write the trial from Cardan’s pov?

Or do smth manorian

Idk

Give me ideas

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not wanting to writing a positive review of my brothers moral character?

(🖌️ to find later)

TW for drug use and misogyny

My (24X) older brother (26M) recently ended up getting arrested and charged with some very serious charges due to his distribution of fentanyl. I’m not going to get too into the legal stuff for obvious reasons but he could end up in prison for up to 30 years. I’m not any type of fan of the legal system (US, for clarification) and am not a fan of the situation but can definitely see some silver linings to him being in there. I wish there was an actually system of help he could get but with the rate he has taking drugs and the way his circle of friends was dropping (4 funerals in 6 months) my mom and I were fairly certain he was going to over does soon and he showed no signs of wanting to seek help. So ya know, at least he’ll be alive.

But that’s not fully the issue. My mom and I talked and she said his public defender wanted letters from people to prove his good moral character to read in court and, as his little sibling, figured of course I would provide one. But I truly have nothing good to say about the man’s ‘moral character’ the last time we had a conversation was before I moved out over two years ago. When I moved out my roommates I was moving in with said they didn’t want him to know our address as they would be living there too and didn’t want him bringing his violence into their lives. He blew up called me a bunch of homophobic slurs and that was pretty much it.

Before that he was my biggest reason for wanting to move out. He regularly calls my mom a bitch and a c*nt. He never cleaned up after himself because ‘there was two women in the house and we were f*cking (r-slurs) if we thought he should have to do anything.�� Lovely things like that. He punches holes in the walls, says slurs like they’re the only descriptive words he knows, steals anything not locked up (and smashes through doors and windows even then to get to it), and hounds my mom for money non-stop, usually until she gives in. In short I have nothing positive to say about his moral character.

Now my mom is a very loving mom. Far more than I could be at this point and is in denial about the man her son is. She would say she’s spent the last decade living with the personification of meth and heroin and she will get her son back some day if he could only get clean. But none of that has actually been him. I just can’t have that kind of optimism or denial towards the situation. She’s going to be very upset if I don’t submit something because she (fairly, again fuck the prison system) doesn’t think he should be locked up for upwards of 30 years.

I’m a good writer. I could come up with something. None of it really true but it can sound nice. Make my mom feel better (gods know she needs a break) but just thinking about it makes me feel gross. I don’t even know if it will matter much in court, but I don’t know how awful of me it would be to abstain.

There’s obviously more nitty gritty to the situation but this is long as it is. I just hope I didn’t make my mom sound bad because I do want to say she’s a loving woman in an abusive situation and I hope it’s not to much to ask that no one be too cruel to her in the notes, thanks.

What are these acronyms?

[bellesdreamyprofile]

chapter 6 - 1947

previous part

Once John Martin had taken Cece to live in California with him, nothing was the same anymore. Everyone thought John was gonna last a week with the little girl, since they had been apart for years. Pandora gave him a month in total.

But Cece had been living in California for seven months now. Seven months of loneliness for Pandora, who barely woke up every day without the presence of her daughter. Her anchor, her strength. There's not a day where she woke up without regretting not fighting enough for her to stay. But how could she fight a man as persistent and as manipulative as her ex husband? Though Pandora was lucky to have a neighbor as thoughtful as Gladys. She checked on her every day after work as they drank their coffees together. Somehow she managed.

Elvis on the other hand was a different story. He didn't know where California was, so he thought he'd be able to visit her every weekend or vice versa. Days and weeks passed from her sudden departure, but not a day passed without him asking Pandora when Cece would be back. The answer was always the same.

"I don't know, darling."

But who knew then? The boy needed answers. He couldn't find them in his mama or Pandora. So he looked for answers in music. Cece's guitar had been sitting in her room at the same spot. Elvis occasionally stopped by, secretly hoping to find Cece waiting for him.

"Oh, sweet, sweet, Cece Flora."

His fingers pinched the guitar strings as his eyes shut. Emotions he had been burying suddenly resurfaced. How could she leave him? Didn't they have letters in California? She left and couldn't write back. Didn't he deserve an answer?

Oh, sweet, sweet, Cece Flora. How could you leave without (telling) me? Oh, I've denied Your departure, hopin' you'd be comin' back

Elvis was in denial and quite hopeless, since that was the first time he had picked up a pen and wrote something he felt was worth jotting down. Though he never finished the song or whatever that was gonna turn out to be. His words were fumbled and the guitar didn't sound as good as it did in his head. 

But one day he chose to just write. And he wrote until his hand ached and his fingers had little bruises. He wrote until Pandora sent him home. But before he went he kindly asked her to send Cece the song as one of his never-answered letters.

"Could you please send Cece this song I wrote for her?"

Pandora smiled and nodded at his sweet gesture.

"Of course, Elvis."

And just like Elvis had predicted, weeks passed and she never wrote back.

Despite what people were thinking of her, Cece's life had become a living hell. The hot California weather, which she wasn't used to, was slowly killing her and unable to let her get used to it.

Her daddy, John Martin, brought her to live with his new family, tearing her away from her own. Her heart ached every time he laughed and joked with his new kids. Was she difficult to laugh with? Is that why he left in the first place? Because she wasn't funny enough or because her jokes weren't as hilarious as theirs were?

Either way she never got along with, what they now legally were, her step siblings. They never cared for her either so the feeling was mutual. Her little escape was her room where she spent hours writing letters to Elvis about her day and ideas of their future once she got back to Tupelo.

Seven months and her letters never got an answer. Was he hurt by an action she had no control over?

A/N: how are you liking it this far? comment and leave a <3 xx

index chapter 7

[tamurilofrivendell]

Sleeping Beauty | Chapter 10

Previous Chapters [1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9]  Read on AO3 [x]

Pairing: Thranduil/Fem. Reader Summary: A Sleeping Beauty inspired tale with Thranduil the Elvenking, and a female elf living in Mirkwood under the care of Radagast, who is actually the ‘lost’ daughter of the late High King Gil-Galad. Taglist: @hufflepuff1700​​​​​​​​​​​​ @jinlizz-dragondrama​​​​​​​​​​​​ @firelightinferno​​​​​​​​​​​​ @bubbleyukismile @coopsgirl​​​​​​​​​​​​ @achromaticerebus​​​​​​​​​​​ @sleepyamygdala​​​​​​​​​​​   @smalltownbigheart​​​​​​​​​​ @qmabailor​​​​​​​​​ @genderfluid-anime-goth​

The very next morning, Radagast sat down at his wobbly desk, quill in hand, and scribbled out a letter to be sent to the Elvenking’s Halls. He had suffered a very sleepless night, going over and over in his head what he could possibly say, how he could explain it. All he knew was that he could no longer afford to wait. Now that the Enchantress had made contact with you (and he knew that she had, despite your denial of there having been anybody else in that clearing) Radagast could not waste a single second.

He could not keep you here in his cottage any longer. He could not shield you properly, in the way that would be necessary. The Enchantress may very well launch an attack upon him and he would rather that you were safely out of the way. Inside Thranduil’s Halls would be the best place for you, for a time at least. The Enchantress would not be able to penetrate their defences. Radagast knew that Thranduil would not let her.

Yes, you would be quite safe there, though moving you to the Halls would mean that he would have to tell you everything. He would have to shatter the only world you had ever known. He was loath to do it. He was so very fond of you and he did not wish to hurt you. However, there was nothing else that he could do, not like this, not without help.

So, after much hesitation and scratching out of words, Radagast placed his letter safely into the claws of a raven and sent the bird winging its way to the Woodland Realm, where it was received and taken to the king.

To Thranduil Oropherion, Elvenking. From the hand of Radagast the Brown. It is with deep regret that I must inform you of a very large secret which I have kept from you. The keeping of this secret was not done to slight you. In truth, it had nothing at all to do with you and everything to do with the safety of the one that I was sworn to protect. The daughter of Gil-Galad lives, Thranduil. She dwells within this very forest and has for many years, under my strict supervision and care. The High King begged me to keep her hidden from the Enchantress to save her precious life and, until very recently, I had managed to do so. With the Enchantress now prowling beneath these trees, I fear time has run out and the Princess is in grave danger. The Enchantress has come too near and I can no longer protect her as I once could.

I write to you seeking sanctuary for her within your halls. Please respond with all haste.

When it fell into his hands, Thranduil read the letter and immediately began to fill with rage. The little girl had survived? She lived? All these years, he had been led to believe that she had died. No... no, not led to believe. He had seen her die! Witnessed it with his own eyes!

What was the meaning of this? Nothing made sense!

If she was alive, then that meant the curse was still in effect. It meant that perhaps this was the reason the Enchantress had come here, had darkened his forest with her presence. He had asked Radagast point blank if he knew why she had come... and the damned wizard had told him that he did not.

Thranduil paced angrily around his office like an unsettled wolf until he finally forced himself to sit down and respond, glaring at the paper the entire time.

To the Wizard Radagast. From the hand of Thranduil O, Elvenking of the Woodland Realm. I fear you must have hit your head upon a low-hanging tree trunk on the journey home! For the last time I saw you, you said nothing of this despite the topic of conversation which we were engaged in.

Even before this, ever since that witch set foot in my forest, you have said nothing many times over if I recall correctly - and I am not in the habit of doing otherwise. This girl you speak of. How am I to know she is truly the princess? I witnessed that elfling die as I witnessed hers and my own mother meet the same fate. Do not come to me now seeking aid, for I do not house nor have the patience for liars.

Radagast had not expected this to be easy.

Truthfully, he had expected Thranduil’s response to be littered with much more anger than it actually was, so he supposed that was a small mercy. Though he had no doubt that the Elvenking was angry enough and was just keeping it all close to his chest, silently seething as was sometimes his way.

Radagast lifted his head and watched you pottering around the kitchen for a while, a deep sadness in his heart, before he picked up his quill and scratched together a messy reply.

Unaware of any of this, you continued to pad around the little cottage, seeing to your chores and thinking about Thranduil, wondering when he would next travel this way. Radagast had been keeping quite a tight leash on you the last day or so and you were quite frustrated, though at least the birds and beasts came and visited you here.

My lord, I understand your anger and your hesitation. The events of the past still affect us all and you witnessed so much that day that it does not surprise me that it brings out unsavoury emotions. Regardless, I implore you to put aside your grievance with me and think of the poor girl. This is not her fault. Should she pay for the mistakes of others? In all truth, she has no idea at all as to who she truly is. She does not know who her father was or what happened that day. I have told her absolutely nothing about any of it so as to keep her safe.

This had raised Thranduil’s eyebrows indeed, because he had not expected that the princess would not have any idea as to her heritage. Her past, her parents, her history. The history they shared in a way.

How the wizard had hidden her away all these years also surprised him. Thranduil had passed that cottage many a time, had sought brief counsel from the man even, and not a whisper or an inkling that anybody else resided there had ever crossed his mind. He wondered if the wizard had perhaps placed some sort of spell upon her.

Then again, he supposed that if you could live without being discovered in his forest, then perhaps he was not quite as attuned to every little going on beneath the trees as he might like to think that he was. Thranduil did not yet connect you and this princess as being the same, for he knew the princesses true name and it was not Lothíriel.

I am unsure how to proceed.

The wizard sighed as he looked down at the one word answer he received from the Woodland Realm that morning. This was taking too long and Thranduil was too stubborn.

Radagast glanced out of the window he was sitting beside, watching you laugh with the birds in the garden. Your life was so important, he thought, and you were too precious a soul to be lost... especially after all the years he had spent raising you, almost as if you were his very own.

He turned back, nodding to himself. He had to keep pushing. In fact, he had to push harder. So, picking up his quill again, he scratched out his own one word reply to Thranduil and sent it winging its way through the forest with his trusted raven.

I beg of you to help her as your father would have wanted - as your mother would have wanted.

This had, of course, sent Thranduil into a mighty anger.

Feren had come running through to the room at the sound of a chalice shattering against the wall.

Thranduil turned to look at him, gritting his teeth. “That damned wizard!” He cried, throwing the letter to his desk and rolling his eyes. “Arrange a reply. Tell him I will do as he wishes.” Thranduil told Feren even as he was sweeping past him to storm off down the hallway and out to the stables.

He needed air.

[mesillusionssousecstasy]

The Fall of the House of Usher : Quotes

"- And if anyone, anyone comes after us, we will exhaust our arsenal until the threat's neutralized. - By neutralized, do you mean sued into oblivion, taken out of the Board, out of the will, on the streets... - Neutralized. Like dead. (Episode 1)

"- Algorithms aren't high tech. They've been around since antiquity. An algorithm is just a finite sequence of all defined instructions to solve a problem, or perform a computation." (Episode 2)

"- Nothing worth having is ever easy." (Episode 2)

"- It's better, I promise, in the moment just before than in the moment after." (Episode 2)

"- We need to talk because when people ask, there are some things you absolutely cannot say." (Episode 3)

"- That's why we've a charity wing, so you paste someone's face on it." (Camille - Episode 3)

"- We remember that he did it, so he did it." (Episode 3)

"- Because opportunity doesn't give a fuck what you're going through." (Episode 3)

"- That's why they hate us. Not because we grabbed the opportunity, but because they didn't." (Episode 3)

"- Like, I make video games, you know? (Leo) - You don't make video games. You give money to people who make video games. No, no. An idea is nothing. An idea is fart that your brain makes. But if you patent an idea, well, then it's an asset. (Camille - Episode 3)

"- You're gonna do the smart thing and go back to your crossword puzzle or else I'll have you fired and sued." (Episode 3)

"- What's a six-letter word for "fucked"?" (Episode 3)

"- I'm gonna need you to tell me who the fuck you think you are." (Episode 3)

"- I can hear Camille's voice in my head right now. "Satin is silk for poor people, no one should wear it to a funeral, unless they died in it." Fuck's sake." (Leo - Episode 4)

"- The other go-to coping mechanism in my family. It's when you direct your more intense reactions towards something or someone that doesn't feel threatening. So you get to react and be angry, be abusive, be violent, even, but you don't risk significant consequences." (Episode 4)

"- Denial, displacement, projection." (Episode 4)

" - But see, I wanted something better. Something better for him. For all of them." (Episode 4)

"- A trait of mine that seemed to skip them somehow... sublimation. That is something that is one of the few coping mechanisms that's considered positive. Sublimation is when a person chooses to redirect strong emotions into an object or an activity that's appropriate and safe. So, instead of lashing out at your employees, you pour your energy into kickbox..." (Episode 4)

"- You drive a car like that, you make a statement. About who you are, where you're going, and how you get there." (Episode 4)

"- Now, let's get a drink, huh? It's gotta be noon somewhere." (Roderick - Episode 4)

"- Something in coke for you? You don't want the designer stuff. It's too dangerous." (Leo - Episode 4)

"- Are you mistaking me for a civilian? I'm not a fucking civilian." (Frederik - Episode 4)

"- You're not who I thought you were. Smart girls are only sex until they don't wanna fuck you, and then they're competition, and then what do you do? You take them down a peg." (Episode 5)

"- It's an opportunity. He's underestimated you. That's a gift. A failure of imagination. He sees you as formidable, he locks down, closes ranks, shuts the doors, battens the hatches. You are a face, you're not a mouthpiece, so just smile and shut the fuck up." (Episode 5)

"- Look, I'm shit at preambles. I made a life by getting to the point, so..." (Episode 5)

"- Why is this happening? - Life is insane. It is madness. The sooner you understand that, the better off you'll be." (Episode 6)

"- Reality's not what it used to be. All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream. For example.... As those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night. (Roderick) - Grandpa, are you okay? (Lenore) - I am. I'm fine. I'm just... It's been quite a week." (Roderick - Episode 6)

"- Men have called me mad But the question is not yet settled. As to whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence." (Episode 6)

"- Shut your mouth, get your shit together. The fuck is wrong with you?" (Episode 6)

"- I don't know anything about anything." (Episode 6)

"- Men are as stupid as they are simple. You're better off. Oh, my God, my first husband. I thought I missed him, but that was just this temporary insanity. This burp your heart goes through. He was fun to ride. Boy. Men, when they think they're immortal, all they want to do is fuck. When they figure out they're going to die, all they want to do is fuck. (Madeline - Episode 6)

"- You don't have to be a tyrant, but if you don't want to be consistently cruel, then you have to be sufficiently brutal at least once to establish authority." (Episode 7)

"- Everything has a price. Every negotiation's a point of entry. Every deal is simply an expression of will. Mutual will." (Episode 7)

"- You're a collection of impeccable, elaborate masks in orbit of a stunted heart. And I understand. You find an adversary, you kill them. You find a hurdle, you jump it or dismantle it. You find a locked door, you pry it open." (Episode 7)

"- Don't be stupid. Can you imagine what that would look like? My own wife trying to get off my own drug. It's a PR nightmare." (Roderick - Episode 7)

"- All soaked with feelings of absolute desperation and dread." (Episode 7)

"- Basically, the closest analogy I can think of is a fish being pulled out of water, only at least the fish gets to die." (Roderick - Episode 7)

"- So, I will take there years of hell over a lifetime with you." (Juno - Episode 7)

"- He and I share that as well. We both understand that... language in its highest expression is musical. What's a poem, after all, if not a safe space for a difficult truth. So there is a limit. (Verna) - No, it's not a limit, it's a standard." (Episode 8)

"- I don't want it, any of it, if it involves serving at some man's pleasure." (Madeline - Episode 8)

"- One of my favorite things about human beings. Starvation, poverty, disease, you could fix all that, just with money. But everyone loves something. And that love there's collateral. (Verna) - No. I have no collateral. Collateral is leverage. And I won't be leveraged. No man or woman has leveraged me in 70 years of life. And I'm not going to cede that ground, not this close to the end." (Arthur Pym - Episode 8)

[tomjamesavery]

What a World - Chapter Update! Harry finds himself on a somewhat spiritual journey, or to put it simply, a train to a place he hadn't been to before, yet he isn't quite sure what really brought him there. He soon finds the culprit, a culprit with red hair and brown eyes. Bringing him a long overdue reunion with an old friend that might even (probably(definitely)) be more. This Fanfic might not be for everyone, it will eventually, turn into a "Mr. and Mrs. Smith" kind of story, only that Harry and Ginny aren't Special Agents but politicians and diplomats, fighting battles with arguments rather than guns. Draco also plays a big role and his (platonic) relationship with Harry. The Hinny includes: Best friends to lovers, pining, being in denial, and loads of loads of fluff. Read the sixth Chapter on: AO3 Or start from the beginning. Here is a little snippet from the Sixth Chapter Chapter Six - His Calling

Thirty minutes later he was sitting on his sofa, a thick, knitted, woolen blanket covering his lap -courtesy of Mrs. Weasley.  He held the phone in his right hand, a freshly made -and still steaming hot- cup of ginger tea in the left.

He started to type in the numbers, and to his own chastise, he noticed that he was shaking slightly. Let's ignore that.

0-7-5-3-3 9-2-7-6-0-5 He swallowed, why was he so nervous, it was only Ginny, the most natural person to talk to he knew. No. -there was.

His thumb reluctantly pressing down on the “Call” button. 

White noise. Beeping. Waiting. It felt like millennia. 

“-Weasley.”  The all-so-familiar voice suddenly sounded from the speaker.

Harry’s mouth dried up, no single word able to leave it.

“Hello? Is someone there?”  The soft voice asked.

Talk. Words. Something.

“Oh, erm, hey it's me, Harry.”  God, what was happening to him? 

“Harry! You’ve received my letter-” Ginny’s voice was full of eagerness and excitement, which for some unknown reason made his stomach tingle, the simple thought of him being the culprit of her good mood did that.

“-How are you, I was hoping you’d call me today, it has been ghastly, and I am in dire need of a best friend to vent to.”

Harry grinned, still feeling the tingles in his stomach. They must’ve been due to his nervousness, that had it to be. “I am good, had a boring few days at uni, also worked out yesterday and even cooked something, but that’s pretty much it.”

“Well that sounds like all is in good order, I imagine sharing a case study with Malfoy can be straining on the nerves.”

He had to agree with that assessment.  “Yeah, can’t say I enjoy it. But it is what it is, I can’t change it, so I guess complaining won’t help either.”

He heard her snort from the other side. “You men and your weird logic of no-complaining. Sometimes venting about something is the most healing and relieving thing you can do, you should try it.”

He guessed she had a point with that. ...

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Feelings Realization Masterlist

and maybe we’ll work this out (ao3) - localopa

Summary: old habits die hard. sometimes those habits can make your flatmate kiss you and realize, shit, you’re in love with them.

A Series of Phan Vignettes (ao3) - sasquatchwithawatch (orphan_account)

Summary: Phil's up late reading phanfiction one night, and Dan catches him at it. Things get awkward, tense, incredibly confusing- and neither one is sure if things will ever go back to the way they were. Neither one is sure if that's what they want.

a theism in evolution (ao3) - Tarredion

Summary: The sungod, Phil, sends letters to Mother Gaia. He puts all his worries into words… even when he himself can't see right through them

Bad at Being Straight (ao3) - Masterread

Summary: Ace!Phil and very gay Dan slowly realizing they may be more than friends, but Phil's not entirely sure how that's going to work out...

Blind Date (ao3) - Phandiction

Summary: PJ and Louise know Dan and Phil have feelings for each other that they refuse to admit to one another so the two set them uo on a blind date. imagine their surprise.

Dearest (ao3) - americanphancakes

Summary: On Valentine's Day, Dan surprises Phil with the news that he's been casually seeing a girl for about 6 months.

Jealousy and the denial thereof ensues.

No Homo Howell - ticklishhpickle

Summary: Dan and Phil are just two platonic bros. Dan doesn’t care what his best friend Louise has to say about it. He’s allowed to be straight and think that Phil has the most breathtaking eyes he’s ever seen, okay?

No longer a spider (ao3) - sweetlildudez

Summary: Dan howell hates spiders, but he loves feeling free.

Reconciliation of the Hopeful Kin (ao3) - Yiffandquiff (paradisobound)

Summary: Phil has been friends with Dan for as long as he can remember. But when he leaves Dan behind to go to University, he doesn’t expect for his crush on Dan to grow more when he sees how different Dan looks now. Living in Manchester, he gets called home to help with his father’s sudden illness. But during this time, Phil decides to contact Dan again. Reconnecting with each other, Phil realizes he doesn’t want to go back to Manchester without telling Dan how he feels first.

Seeing The Real Me (ao3) - LittleLola1114

Summary: Neko Dan and Phil have been inseparable friends for the past few years now and now that Dan's 18, they decided to move in together and move away to a place that accepts Dan for who he is- a neko. Everyone can see the sexual tension that they have, well everyone except Dan and Phil. It's only after a situation involving the police and almost getting arrested along with a panic attack that Phil finally acknowledge what they have together and takes the leap of faith.

something to play for (ao3) - spaceandvinyls

Summary: “the world doesn’t revolve around basketball, lester.”

a basketball!au where phil is the school’s star player and dan is his best friend, watching from the sidelines. everything changes when the team makes it to state championships for the first time in ten years and dan and phil realize they want something more than friendship.

Thankful For a Second Chance (ao3) - thatsthephan

Summary: A Thanksgiving fic in which Dan spends Thanksgiving with Phil’s family, and they both realize the things they’re really thankful for in life. And not just tastebuds and the ability to cook.

That's It (ao3) - Phandiction

Summary: Phil comes to terms with hidden emotions he's felt for Dan since the day they met at the train station and confronts him.

[beewritesstuff]

One Taste Could Send A Man To Heaven- Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Summary:

A year has passed in peace and love. Then, a letter arrives.

This is a spiritual successor to the first 11 chapters- a series looking into the small and momentous occasions in these lives.

Notes:

I'm switching from second to third person- I feel it makes more sense for this new arc of story! Vivi was my imagined name for the fictional 'you' of part one. She is all of us who want to be.

Plus, Vivi means "joy, or exuberant, done joyfully", so it also could simply be a Latin nickname for you from Gaster's muddled memory of the language.

Gaster blinked at the heavy parchment in his hand, mind racing.

The coronation of Prince Asriel as crown prince had been the talk of the city, perhaps even the world, ever since its announcement six months before. Their majesties had recently sent invitations to thousands but his was of a different nature, arriving with seals and ribbons, the Queen's words firm, mournful, and final.

"My Lord Grace,

Time passes, yet so little changes.

Your presence is both required and greatly desired by the Throne at his majesties coronation. The security of the event, appearance of our power, and safety of our people are of utmost importance, and like the general I once was, I am forced again to call my greatest soliders to me in this time of great strife and potential violence. Your skills and Gifts cannot be denied, nor can your penchant for avoiding large events at all costs. This is not one that We can afford you the dignity of being absent or anonymous, and We understand and acknowledge the weight beneath this seemingly simple order.

I also cannot deny my desire for the last surviving, original member of my parliament to be by my side as We face the emissaries of this strange, new world. Despite your constant denials, I was continually impressed by your grasp of decorum in those long ago times. Now I must require that you be properly re-acknowledged in your position within our society, with all the requirements and expectations that entails.

I understand the burden this places on your heart- expectations are not a healthy thing for a burgeoning partnership. Still, duty is duty, which is why I write this at my husband's side, and not from a place of more delightful company.

Monsters are alive and real again, and the public opinion (momentarily) demands we receive recompense for our harsh treatment. If part of that recompense includes lands and titles acknowledged, as We believe it will, then you are my most valuable asset in this coming future, more priceless than any gem or treasure of our kingdom.

I will say it plainly. You alone are of the originating, natural born greater nobility still living, and at the coronation, I require you to acknowledge your ducal claim and act as the arm of the throne that you so despise being. If she is to be a part of that life, then there are expectations to be set that she may not tolerate, and elevations that will be difficult to convey. If this is so, I ask that you will remember your honor and oaths to the throne, ancient but no less binding. We have been gone thousands of years, yet the expectations of wealth, nobility, and partnerships of love are scarcely changed from our time.

Her image will be scrubbed, her presence in every way maintained by those trained to do so. Freedoms she has grown used to will evaporate like morning fog; travel, casual appearance, even the ability to pick all she wears and buys. She will be drowned in gifts, and her home is not adequate even for 6 months of their storage, not to mention the risk of danger that so casual a living place invites with its location and build. You are an incredibly formidable man, but even the worst criminal can find luck once.

I understand the pain of what I ask, and the difficulty of the conversations to come. I hope beyond hope that she can find sympathy in her heart for your position, and the endless patience and tolerance required to have her life shift so dramatically.

(Written in a looser, less formal hand)

Formal phrasing allows so many evils to carry a veneer of palatability. I wish there was another way, Gaster, as I wish I had not spent the last forty years forgetting my last cousin on my mother's side. What I would not have given for the friend you once were to me, these horrible years...

No matter. I am sorry. We are sorry, though you know that he will never admit to it. The crown is a yoke that we cannot throw, and you are a rein that I cannot drop.

It will be a spring event, to celebrate new beginnings. The treasury will handle your expenses, and hers, if there are to be any. I pray that there will. The central records are rebuilding your identity and will soon have the appropriately aged writs of inheritance, endorsement, and rights prepared for your signature

(The ring is not original- if you can possibly remember where you left it, the old palace is practically a museum, untouched and undisturbed. For sentiment, I would love to see it if you find it. Do you remember all of us trying to fit every initial on the backs? Trinket insisted on all eight middle names...didn't we make her carve them on the band instead of the back of the signet?)

There is no easy way in my heart to end this letter. Please, Angels and Stars, be kind just a single time to this man who I once again must ask to do so much.

Her Royal Majesty

Queen Toriel Dremurr

Of the line of Constellatio

He dropped the letter and the signet ring that came with it, and stared out the kitchen window at the rising sun.

(Click link at the top to read the full chapter!)

[meadowofbluebells]

Find the Word Tag

Thank you for the tag, @enne-uni. :)

So, I have a lot of short story WiPs that I'm currently working on, so there were a lot of instances of these words. Though, a few of these sound insane without their context. Oh well.

WIP 1: And So To Queens Can Fall

Solana spent a couple more minutes in the room, unwilling to leave them just yet. She made sure to analyze her little girls as much as possible. The way Winifred wrinkled her nose whenever Vera was too loud. How Vera never stopped smiling, even in her sleep; her little ray of sunshine.

The little girl slowly blinked into consciousness. Her green eyes hazily fell on her mother. “Is it morning already?”

WIP 2: Denial (Working Title)

“Do you think there is a way to get back? I mean, we’re still talking. Maybe there is a puzzle piece that we’re just missing.” Gideon’s hands were wrapped around his knees and he was staring down at Atticus’ white sneakers.

WIP 3: Beloved

They had been collecting herbs all day, and her feet felt swollen from walking so far outside the city. So, when she saw the pretty white flowers with pink centers she was excited. She had immediately picked one and brought it to her nose, only to realize it smelled like rotting flesh. 

“Boo!” Andy flinched at the loud noise right next to her ear.

WIP 4: Powers (Working Title)

Thus, Graham spent most of his early childhood going to specialist after specialist. His parents drove to appointments early in the morning or flew across the country for answers. Nothing ever came of it, though.

 As Graham slowly sat up, wincing at the pull on his bruised skin, he watched the pristine white pages of their test flutter to the ground like confetti at the end of a performance.

WIP 5: The Pirate Boy

Yet, as she walked around the house, everything else felt familiar. By the time she had circled back to the attic, she felt no closer to an answer. The only thing out of place was the wooden ladder painted white.

She looked around the tables again. Her eyes focused on each member individually. Lord Sock was blushing all the way to the roots of his balding white hair as he talked to Miss Rock. She, in turn, was smiling so widely that her crow’s feet looked like half-stars on each side of her head.

The next morning, she woke up to a child’s laugh. The sound was loud but melodic. However, to Carla, who got precious few hours of sleep, the sound was grating.

“They are rather loud, are they not?” She said to the boy.

However, the next morning, when she raced out of her bedroom in a bid to get to work as soon as possible, there was no attic. She had stopped in her tracks, one rm hanging out her blazer and the other brushing through her hair.

WIP 6: Signed, Death

The door creaked open as he flicked on the lights - stumbling into the orderly room with a jubilant stride. He threw on his jacket and stuffed his wallet into one of the front pockets. Then, with a satisfied nod, turned to leave. However, as he pivoted, a flash of white on his desk caught his attention. With a furrowed brow, David turned to examine the object - a pristine envelope with his name written in elegantly looping letters.

When David awoke, he was surrounded by white walls. For a moment he thought death had taken pity on him and heeded his cries. However, the overpowering scent of hand sanitizer quickly destroyed that hope. His hazy eyes slowly focused enough to see the face of a smiling doctor swimming in front of him. 

There was a fine mist in the air as David drove home. The white fog shied away from the street lamps and his headlights Still, he was practically squinting by the time he turned onto one of the less-used side streets. The sound of other motorists arriving home late drifted further and further away as he drove.

WIP 7: The Grim Reaper (Working Title)

 Her tirade was cut off by a cold sensation on her forearm. She turned around sharply to glare at Grim. “What?”

WIP 8: The Wedding (Working Title)

Zoe was dressed in an off-the-shoulder gown with an a-line skirt. The fabric was as white as snow.

“I think you should try something that is more of an off-white.” Melody said as she turned back toward Zoe, her eyelashes fluttering rapidly.

WIP 9: Up a Tree (Working Title)

Barnett snorted. “Like you did this morning?”

“You’ll thank me in the morning.”

This was fun. :)

I'll tag @fleurtygurl and @lassiesandiego. Of course, anyone else who wants to take part is welcome.

Your words are: -Sky -Dream -Melody -Twirl

[inquisimer]

fucked around and got attached

for @febuwhump day 6 (you lied to me) - an argument between the Trevelyan siblings over secrets discovered once Drew became the Inquisitor

read it on ao3 here

Female Trevelyan & Male Trevelyan | Rated T | 1139 words | CW: past violence, implied/referenced abuse

-

The battlements are colder, now that he knows the truth.

Being the Inquisitor came with all sorts of opportunities and power. That was why he’d agreed. It also, apparently came with a trove of secrets—useful things, the spymaster said. Even the dirty ones. Even the ones he didn’t want to know.

“Drew? Leliana said you were looking for me.”

He closed his eyes. Even hearing her voice soured his stomach. And he was going to have words with his spymaster—if they wanted him in charge, they needed to listen when he asked to be alone.

“Well, she lied. I’m not in the mood for company.”

Even without looking at her, he could see how her brow furrowed. In the past few months he’d made himself intimate with her every expression, drinking up that which he’d been deprived like a man starved. He hadn’t thought he’d regret it, but the clarity with which his mind’s eye showed her face only hurt him now.

Once, he thought the worst thing she could be was dead. He thought wrong.

“Drew?”

She sounded confused. Probably because he’d been terse with her—he was never terse with anyone. Drew took a deep breath and tried to keep his anger from showing when he looked over his shoulder.

Judging by how her expression fell flat, he failed.

“You know, I didn’t think being their Inquisitor would be all that different from being their Herald,” he said. “I was already playing decision-maker for them. It was just a formality.”

“But it turns out,” he fought to keep his voice conversational, “that there were plenty of things they left me out of the loop on. Things they didn’t think I needed to know, despite using me at every turn.”

His fist clenched around the letter from Leliana and he looked his sister directly in the eye.

“Things you didn’t think I needed to know.”

Not even a flinch. Either Leliana prepped her—and he wondered why she was here, if that was the case—or she was actually just that cold. With a scoff, Drew thrust the crumpled parchment toward her.

The confusion instantly dropped from her expression. Just another act.

“You lied to me,” he said. All the hurt and betrayal wrapped up in a simple accusation. Words didn’t feel like enough. “I trusted you, and you lied to me.”

“That’s how the world works, Drew,” she said. No reaction, no anger, no denial. “If you aren’t prepared for everyone around you to fuck you over at any given moment, you’re just asking to be played.”

“That’s bullshit!” He slammed his fist against the stone and it cracked under the force magic that spilled between his fingers. “That’s not a way to live, always afraid and guarded.”

“You’re right—it’s a way to survive. Don’t tell me you didn’t learn something similar in the Circle.”

“Of course I did. Which is exactly why I know it’s not right!”

“Don’t be a child,” Acacia scoffed. “Yes, I lied to you. You didn’t want to hear the truth. You didn’t want to know that I struggled, or if I did you wanted to know that it was over. That I made it through. And I did. Just…not as cleanly as someone proper as yourself might have wished.”

“I lied to you,” she repeated coldly. “And I’d do it again.”

Drew reeled back as if she’d physically slapped him. “You…would?”

“I would.”

“Don’t you…care about me?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, you don’t lie to people you care about!”

Acacia snorted. “You’re thinking in a utopia, Drew. If you really think that, the first person you’re lying to is yourself.”

“Not about anything important,” he clarified. “There’s a difference between telling someone their outfit is flattering and telling them that they’ve made an honest life when really they’ve been a thief for six years.”

“An accountant for a thieves guild. If you’re going to attempt an insult, use the facts at your disposal.” Acacia folded her arms across her chest. “And you didn’t need to know. It was—is—baggage. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It’s part of who you are,” Drew said. “Of course it matters.”

“It’s in the past. Truly, now. You know who I am today.”

He scowled. She didn’t understand, or she was being purposefully obtuse. Either way, he was equal parts annoyed and devastated that she just…didn’t seem to care.

“Where you’ve been changes who you are now, ‘cacia.”

“Not in any way that matters.”

“No?” he challenged. “Tell me then: have you been working with Leliana to leverage your underworld contacts, or not?”

She hesitated and that was all the answer he needed. His breath fogged around his nose as he exhaled his anger. How could he ever trust anything she told him again? Did he even know her, know her mind?

A small voice in his head scoffed at him; of course he didn’t. A few months in a catastrophic whirlwind hardly rivaled two decades apart.

“It’s still affecting who you are now,” he pointed out. “It can’t be wholly irrelevant.”

Her fists clenched where they pressed against her side. “I might be using what I learned then, but I don’t make choices the same way. I don’t make choices for the same reasons. It’s different, and that’s why it doesn’t matter.”

“Don’t get caught up in the semantics.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

“You lied about who you are!” Drew snapped. His extensive patience wore thin at her repeated nonchalance. “It’s not the same thing.”

“Isn’t it?”

Exasperated, Drew threw his hands to the sky.

“Why did you come out here, if you didn’t want to have an honest conversation about it?”

“Because you won’t get anything done while you’re brooding about this,” she said. “You have power now. People will lie to you, people will use you, people will do anything they can to take advantage of you. If you don’t learn to deal with it in a less emotional way, you’ll never get anywhere in this game.”

Drew spun away from her. She wasn’t wrong, precisely, but she wasn’t right either. He just couldn’t articulate why. Instead he satisfied himself with glaring down at the bustling courtyard below.

He hurt. From being wrong, from being wronged, from not being able to do a damn thing about any of it. Despite the influence and power he apparently held.

“Grow a thicker skin, Inquisitor.” Acacia tossed the cold warning over her shoulder. “Or the world will grow it for you.”

He shoved a fist against his teeth instead of screaming how he wanted. Skyhold’s mountain air stung the torn flesh when he pulled it away to breathe.

And just as he’d asked, he was alone again.

In more ways than one.

[barbaramoorersm]

April 6, 2025

April 6, 2025

Fifth Sunday of Lent

Isaiah 43: 16-31

The prophet says that God promises something new to a people in exile.

Psalm 126

The psalmist tells the story of the people’s return from exile.

Philippians 3: 8-14

Paul speaks of his journey in faith to Christ.

John 8: 1-11

The Gospel relates the story of the woman “caught” in adultery.”

This Gospel story is a powerful story of abuse and care.  The plight of the woman today is a familiar one.  It appears that she is being used to trap Jesus.  Her accusers fail to bring two witnesses to the event, which was required by Scripture and the man, who was her partner.  Jesus calls out the hypocrites accusing her, and suggests that the “one among you who is without sin cast the first stone.”   He says he will not condemn her, and suggests that she make a change in her life.  What a gesture of compassion in the midst of a public condemnation and the obvious use of someone to seek punishment of another.

I decided that at this mid-point in Lent, to reflect on the concept of “exile” that is the heart of our first reading and the Psalm.  Even Paul, in his Letter to the Philippians alludes to the concept.  While he dearly loves his faith, this letter describes his willing exile from it to pursue faith in Christ.  “For Christ’s sake I have accepted the loss of all things…that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having and righteousness of my own based on the law but that which comes through faith in Christ….”

So many men, women and children in our world today are working their way through periods of exile.  Exiled from their homes, their roots, and members of their own families. Sources say that in 2024, 126 million is the count.  Some leave for education and work but most flee war, poverty. and hunger.

The Israelites in our first reading, are promised restoration and “something new.”  God promises through the words of Isaiah, a return home from exile in Babylon.  Isaiah says that God, “is doing something new” and that in the desert that the people are facing, that God will “make a way” and will “put water in the desert, and rivers in the wasteland.”

Perhaps we have all faced moments that we could call an “exile experience” in our lives.  The death of a loved one, loss of a job, or denial of our gifts and suggestions.  I have a sense that Jesus must have felt this when the religious leaders of the faith he loved, tried to condemn him, and exile him from his call, as well as trying to discredit him.  But during the pain he must have suffered, think of what he did today to free the woman from the exile of her life, and to expose the behavior of those who were using her.

Jesus’ choice of compassion today for this poor woman, must have extended his feelings of exile that he was experiencing from the religious leaders. One writer has said that “This kind of mercy is likely to restore confidence and courage, and draw her closer to God….”  May his actions be a model for all of us.

[dfroza]

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures

for the 2nd of february 2025 with a paired chapter from each Testament (the First & the New Covenant) of the Bible

[The Letter of Romans, Chapter 16 • The Book of 2nd Kings, Chapter 24]

along with Today’s reading from the ancient books of Proverbs and Psalms with Proverbs 2 and Psalm 2 coinciding with the day of the month, accompanied by Psalm 44 for the 44th day of Astronomical Winter, and Psalm 33 for day 33 of the year (with the consummate book of 150 Psalms in its 1st revolution this year)

A post by John Parsons:

The Apostle Paul foretold that the time before the “End of Days” would be “perilous” and full of unrelenting human depravity and lawlessness (2 Tim. 3:1-5). Yeshua warned that apostasy would abound and that the hearts of many would run cold as ice (Matt. 24:12). In light of the raging spiritual war going on all around us, the following needs to be emphatically restated: “The important thing is to not lose your mind...”

The mind is the “gateway” to your heart, and it is therefore essential to guard your thinking by immersing yourself in the truth... “Not losing your mind” therefore means being grounded in what is real, and it therefore means understanding your identity and provision as a child of God. “God has not given us the spirit of fear, but of power and of love, and of a sound mind” – literally, a “delivered” mind, “healed” from chaos and despair (2 Tim. 1:7). The Greek word “sound mind” (σωφρονισμός) comes from a verb meaning “to be made safe,” in the sense of being under restraining influence of the Spirit of God... The closest Hebrew word might be musar (מוסר), or “moral discipline.”

Part of the task of “guarding your mind” is being able to discern between good and evil. “The fear of the LORD is to hate evil” (Prov. 8:13) and as the prophet cried out, “Hate what is wrong, love what is right” (Amos 5:15). We must love the truth and abhor the lie (Psalm 119:163, Zech. 8:19; Prov. 12:22). Tolerating sin in a world ripe for judgment is a tacit form of “collaboration” with the enemy. Indeed, the only thing regarded as intolerable in the devil’s world is the denial that people have the “liberty” to sin. But the Lord is clear on this point: “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, and who turn darkness into light and light into darkness, to those who turn bitter into sweet and sweet into bitter. Woe to those who are wise in their own eyes, and shrewd in their own sight!” (Isa. 5:20-21). It is the truth that sets people free, but this presupposes the ability to discern how we become enslaved to deception. Therefore we are instructed: “You are to distinguish between the holy and the common, and between the unclean and the clean” (Lev. 10:10).

Someone who loves you will to help you stay honest with yourself: The truth of God’s moral law is likened to a Father’s moral correction that leads his child to life (Prov. 6:23).

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Psalm 119:105 reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm119-105-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm119-105-lesson.pdf

1.31.25 • Facebook

from Israel365

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

[ao3feed-ateez]

golden hour

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/mn1j0Wo by ghostly_gay "ℬ𝓊𝓉 𝒾 𝒽𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝒾𝓃𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓉ℯ 𝓉ℯ𝓃𝒹ℯ𝓇𝓃ℯ𝓈𝓈 ��ℴ𝓇 𝓎ℴ𝓊. ℐ 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁. 𝒜𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝒻ℯ 𝓁ℴ𝓃ℊ." ✴.·'¯'·.· ★·.·'¯'·.✴ Wooyoung receives little letters with poems almost weekly, but he does not know from whom - and San intends it to stay that way. Words: 16162, Chapters: 3/7, Language: English Fandoms: ATEEZ (Band) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung (ATEEZ) Additional Tags: Woosan, Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, Soft Love, Letters, Love Poems, i found out san writes poetry and had to do this, Artist x Muse, Mutual Pining, horrible case of it, they're in SO much denial, it frustrates me to write it, Did I Mention Fluff, im not sure if it classifies as an implied slowburn but they've been at this pining for a year now, ik i said soft love but be so fr it's woosan ofc they fuck once, this is basically them being disgustingly cute for 6 chapters, More Fluff, im not a native please bear with me, they're so down bad for each other it's actually really pathetic ngl, Poetry read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/mn1j0Wo