#enough to hit the specific emotional points without going overboard

[warrior-of-waistbands]

(part fifteen) | previous | next | archive

this is one of the moments that changed the most between my original outline and the final comic

[thefanficmonster]

Rumors

Corpse Husband x Bimbo!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Mentions of Slut Shaming, Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Tiniest bit of Angst, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When some rumors start floating around, every content creator does their best to either ignore them or defuse the situation. However, sometimes, the fans attempt to do the defusing themselves which only leads to a worse disaster. That’s the case for Corpse whose fans were quick to jump to his protection of some ‘false’ rumors.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request, it was a joy to write. I’m sorry for how long it has taken me to complete and post the fic but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy reading it at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it! Love, Vy ❤

Corpse cracks his knuckles, then his shoulders, then his collarbone, then the his neck. He clenches his jaw as he breathes steadily and rhythmically, trying to control an overwhelming wave of anger that he has never felt before. This is a situation he’s never had to deal with nor did he ever think he’d have to deal with and address on a fucking livestream on top of all, but here he is now, doing his best to count to ten and not go on a Twitter responding spree, calling people out on their bullshit. He wanted to do so, he still wants to, but he was stopped in his intentions and brought to a calm mindset where he was swayed into dealing with this the civil way and not by roasting the fuck out of any and every foul-mouthed person he’s seen on his Twitter timeline.

He can’t really guarantee and civility during the stream either, he’s aware his tolerance is as thin as a stretched out, old rubber band and is a slight tug away from snapping and allowing him to unleash hell on these people because of who he’s been seeing red these past few days. 

Let’s not risk a misunderstanding here - Corpse absolutely loves and adores his fans, but seeing this behavior from them is quite upsetting and disappointing. When he uses the terms like ‘assholes’, ‘jerks’ and ‘rude motherfuckers’ he isn’t referring to them. He knows they are good people, but are using the completely wrong tactic of defending him, not to mention he doesn’t even need defending. Even if he did, he’s more than capable of doing it on his own and not getting other people involved.

“Hello everyone, hope you’re doing well.“ He finally settles on saying, officially kicking off the stream. If there’s any indicator of the serious nature of this stream, it’s probably the lack of lo-fi and the lack of even attempted playfulness and cheeriness in his voice. That’s how you know shit isn’t to be messed around about. “I just realized I didn’t specify what I’ll be doing in the Tweet, but I’ll tell you now, so those who aren’t interested in the subject or want to steer clear of the drama can leave. However, I wouldn’t advise clicking off considering this will be an overall, how do I say this, rant, of sorts? It’s meant to knock some sense in the people who have been spreading hate for a specific person on all social media platforms she’s active on.“

The majority of the viewers are already familiar with the subject, some even guilty of spreading the hate Corpse mentioned, but there are a few that are completely clueless - the ones actually not interested in online drama, not just saying they ‘hate drama’. With those people in mind, Corpse takes to addressing the issue from its very beginning.

“So, for a month now, me and this streamer, who’s also a TikTok star, by the name of Y/N have been interacting a lot on social media. She’s an incredibly sweet girl that a lot of people have prejudice towards. She’s very misjudged and misunderstood because people see he solely as her content, if that makes sense. They only know she’s that streamer who wears revealing clothes on her streams and posts risqué pictures on her Instagram. Like, no.“ Corpse cannot even fully believe he has to address this and that slut-shaming people is still a thing in the twenty-first century. He closes his eyes for a moment, fist tightening and his knuckles turning white, “I don’t understand how so many people can be so shallow and just plain jerks towards her in general, but then again - this is especially for my fans, the members of my fandom - I don’t understand the need you guys feel to put Y/N down to defend me from some ridiculous rumors as if it’s the first time I’ve had to deal with people talking shit for attention or to get someone canceled.“ He sighs, reminding himself to slow his roll as to not confuse any viewers who still don’t know the full story, “Anyway, back to the timeline of events. So, considering we’ve never interacted before, all the replying to comments, retweeting, liking posts and whatever sparked some dating rumors. Isn’t that just fucking hilarious - you see two people interacting on social media and the first thing that comes to mind is that they’re in a romantic relationship. Where did the friendship go? Does no one value or consider friendships to be a valid type of human relation anymore?“ He runs a hand through his hair, making another pause to clear his mind and prevent his frustration from overflowing. He promised he wouldn’t lose his cool and would remain calm and collected, but the more he talks about it the tighter he clenches his fist and the faster his heartrate is. His neck and ears are red from the tension he feels all over, almost like he’s physically restraining a raging wild animal and not just his own thoughts and emotions.

There’s layers to his anger, the lower ones - aka the ones he’s yet to get to - will be a nightmarish test of his self-control, he already knows it. Judging by how much of a toll this rant has already taken on him, his patience and control growing thinner and thinner, he’s not sure how he’ll power through the last layers without his voice raising awfully high in volume and his fists searching for some object to punch. To an ignorant eye, his reaction would seem exaggerated and overboard, but little does that ignorant eye know...

“When some of my fans saw those rumors, they reacted very badly. It was quite disappointing to see. Guys, I appreciate you standing up for me even though you shouldn’t do that - I can defend myself, not that this was a matter I needed defending from to begin with. But just the way some of you went about it was horrifically wrong and quite upsetting, to me but especially to Y/N herself.“ He can feel it, the aggravation growing, bubbling up in his chest, “What I saw disgusted me, I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. The things some of you were saying...I couldn’t believe you are in fact the same people who are my fans, my lovely fans who I’ve always thought so highly of. Never did I think you could be able of slut-shaming so vulgarly and grossly, I couldn’t believe what I was reading.“

He has every right to be upset - the things being said about Y/N were truly awful and a lot of things being said were meant to defend Corpse and defuse the rumors, doing so while stomping all over Y/N and her content. Rightfully so, many of her fans were outraged and quick to jump to her defense but were unfortunately outnumbered, leading Corpse to believe not many of her fans are actually real or as dedicated as his which only fueled his fury further.

Anyway, let’s take a look at Y/N’s point of view. Being a content creator for as long as she has, refusing to change her style no matter how many people disagreed and insulted her about it, she’s grown quite used to people spitting insults at her on every social media possible. It’s sad how throughout the majority of her content creating career she’s only had haters, creeps and fake fans watching her videos and streams. Rare are those in her fandom who’d actually stick up for her and defend her in ‘scandals’ such as this one. However, no amount of experience with dealing with hate could have prepared her for this outpour of some of the meanest shit she’s ever heard and been called in her life.

Y/N likes the content she makes, she’s comfortable in her skin and loves her body. She loves showing it off too and nor she nor anyone who wants that deserves to be shamed for who they are and what they do, especially when they aren’t hurting anyone and their content is still appropriate. People have always bashed her for all elements of who she is: her appearance, her clothing style, her streams, her gaming skills, her voice on occasion. She can count the instances when she’s received positive feedback on the fingers of her hands which would depress anyone else but not her. She’s always created content for her own amusement and entertainment so people’s opinions never really bothered her. Until now, until this very drama that has hit a specific nerve, an insecurity of hers she’s never talked about. The comments such as:

(Vy Speaking: Comments containing slut-shaming ahead, go to ### if you want to skip)

“Corpse would never date a slut like her“

“Corpse dating this thot? Please internet stop being ridiculous“

“Corpse ain’t a pimp, y’all need to chill“

“Even if they datin they gon break up soon - whore stays a whore“

###

bothered her far more than she’d like to admit. She has no one to open up about it either, she knows what she’ll get in response if she does - she’ll be told it’s her fault. Her fault because of the way she dresses, the way she talks and acts, because she chose this career to begin with. All her fault. The only person she can turn to she refuses to because she doesn’t want to be a bother - not after so many people confirmed her worries that she’s not good enough for him already anyway, the least she can do is avoid bothering him the best she can.

And that is exactly why this has upset Corpse so much.

“Here’s a little message specifically meant for those who claimed I’d never date someone like Y/N or specifically Y/N. You better listen carefully: Don’t you ever, and I mean EVER slut-shame my girlfriend or any other person ever. I cannot believe I have to explicitly remind you that your behavior isn’t ok. You should fucking know that your behavior isn’t right and that you’re a massive piece of shit for saying those awful things about others you judge solely on appearance and clothing. Does it surprise you that I am, in fact, dating Y/N? If you say yes for the reason you think she’s not good enough for me or that I deserve better, please get the fuck out of my fandom. No one disrespects my girl and gets away with it. That’s final!“

Though still under the influence of a flurry of negative emotions, overhearing Corpse literally telling people to exclude themselves from his fandom for being mean to her, Y/N’s taking a step towards emotional recovery knowing her boyfriend will always have her back. He’ll always be there to prove people wrong, defend her and stand by her. He’ll be there to catch her when the hate knocks her off her feet.

But most importantly: he’ll never ask her to change. Not her style, not her clothes, not her personality, nothing. He fell for her the way she is and for who she is, and he will never allow anyone to try to change her either. For someone who’s never had much support all her life, a single speck of support overpowers all the hate within the blink of an eye. Corpse will always be her knight in shining armor, the knight who defeated all the hateful demons by just entering her life. And though she’s still struggling with the ‘Am I good enough for someone so wonderful?’ and ‘He deserves better, doesn’t he?’ questions, with his hand holding hers, she’ll never let those doubts and insecurities overpower her.

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[papergirllife]

Being the right hand women of the most evil man isn’t the normal lifestyle you think you’d had when you were going over career choices, working for Seoul’s very own joker sounds horrifying to others, but not when you had him wrapped around your fingers.

warnings : gruesome scenes (only the beginning), bloodshed  (only the beginning), unprotected sex, slight knife play.

You stood on your ground as guns rang out from all directions, this was a norm for you, flirting with death like it bought no consequences as a bullet barely grazes you when you ducked behind some container, but alas, this was the road that was given to you, no point fighting it, in fact you’ve learned to embrace it, turning yourself into the cold blooded killer you are today.

You looked into the sight scope of your gun, you only had 16 bullets left, but there were around 20 people, you knew you should’ve bought more, guess this would have to do. You took aim at a person’s head, hitting him squarely between the eyes, the gun vibrating against your arm as the gunshot was drowned out by the shouting and maybe a grenade or two. Once you were sure he was down, you opened fire again and again, not giving the enemy a chance of spotting your whereabouts, the warehouse was large, but not enough to make you seem miniscule in the midst of an open fire. You smile at their blur expressions before having a bullet struck onto their head, however, once you ran out of bullets, one of the men ran over to you, his expression livid.

You dropped your gun and took out your hunting knife, the man charged at you, his hand gun aiming at you, like he couldn’t decide on how to finish you off.

“You killed my brother!”

You threw the knife at his armed hand, the gun dropped out his grasp. You withdrew the knife from his wounded arm and proceeded to cut his wrists, legs, and thighs with it, cutting off his arteries, his blood splattering on your clothes as he falls onto his knees, eyes wide with fear.

“Time to join your brother, asshole,” you said before giving his neck a twist, killing him.

You looked around to see that your men have most of the people either killed or tied, but once you let out the breath you were holding in, you spotted a man with a knife charging at someone, your boss, Mr Raion. 

You quickly dashed onto the ground to retrieve the hand gun, shooting at that lunatic, Mr Raion made a hum of approval, followed by a tsk at the man that cowered in front of him. 

“Well done, Y/N,” Mr Raion said before turning to the man on the ground, slitting his throat for all to see.

“Now, time to answer my questions people, now Harley, would you do the honours?”

His Harley, just like the comics, Mr Raion had a Harley. His Harley kills, tortures, and taunts for him. Prancing around like a mad woman as she stuck numerous weapons at places that you wouldn’t want to know as Mr Raion asked questions. You retrieved your gun to clean it, weapons hold sentimental value to you, as it is something you used to attack as well as defend, one of your men handing you a cloth.

“It’s going to take a long time isn’t it, miss?” he asked in an exasperated tone, tired from tonight’s mission.

“I’ll give you 10k if you dare to tell her to stop shrieking like a mad woman,” you said without looking up, knowing that no one would want to interfere her at a moment like this.

“No thank you, miss, being in your team instead of hers is already a blessing,” your right hand man said as he stole a glance at Harley’s men, all wearing weird bunny costumes over their protective gear.

You guys were in for a long night.

Mr Raion, in Japanese, it meant Lion. He truly is the king of Seoul’s underground society, he has cops from little pawns, to big players in the defence ministry, all in his little pocket, making him invincible against the law. Harley, his little toy, is in fact just a toy. They aren’t in love, all of it is just for showbiz, or maybe most of it. You could feel your gaze hardened at the sight of Harley giving Mr Raion a lap dance for all to see midway through her torture session, like a death sentence isn’t painful enough that she has to make it worse by twerking in front of those men before their death, you couldn’t tell what Mr Raion was thinking, since he always had the mask on.

The lot of you were done with the mission in the warehouse, and as celebration, Mr Raion would treat everyone a night of joy by partying, their typical ritual. 

At the club that you specifically asked to clear out before anymore unwanted deaths occur, you gripped your glass of wine hard, before downing the rest of its contents, your hard gaze training on Harley’s hands wandering around Mr Raion’s exposed chest, the top buttons off.

“Harley, Harley, Harley. It’s always her isn’t she? I heard you saved his life tonight, yet you don’t get anything in return,” it was the club owner you’ve known ever since you worked for Mr Raion, Johnny Suh.

“You know I don’t do glitz and glamour, Johnny, nor any public shows, I value my reputation as a woman,” you said before downing the glass.

“Don’t let him hear that, Y/N,” Johnny said in a lowered tone, valuing his life.

“Thanks for letting us trash the place, I’ll be heading out,” you said as you threw a few notes down as tip.

“So early?” Johnny questioned in a shocked tone.

“Yeah, had a long day,” you said before heading out the club, the feeling of someone’s eyes on your back.

You washed up and got into bed, staring at Seoul’s beautiful skyline, but your mind wanders to the ugliest parts of Seoul, and how you were apart of it. Things always looked prettier from afar, don’t they? You let out a sigh of defeat before crawling into bed, the silk sheets smooth against your skin.

When you were about to drift off to sleep, you felt a pair of arms around your waist as kisses were peppered on your neck, the drowsiness fading away from the touch.

“Why did you leave so early? You look so beautiful today. I wanted to stare at you more,” the man said in a husky tone.

“Fuck off, Yuta. Go look for your Harley.”

Yuta climbed on top of you, caging you in his arms, his head laid on your shoulder, his gentle breathing sending shivers down your spine.

“You know we’re nothing. I wouldn’t have her around if it isn’t to protect you.”

That was true, Yuta only hired Harley to mask your presence, just like the mask on his face. To other people in the underground society, you were just one of Yuta’s men, and nothing more. That was how it was initially, until the two of you fell in love when the two of you were accidentally trapped in the hide out by one of the rookies, but that didn’t matter now, as your emotions swirled and bubbled under your skin dangerously. 

“Go, go get that lap dance that you were enjoying so much.”

Yuta’s gaze hardened under your obvious jealousy, it wasn’t the first time he dealt with this type of out burst from you, and it wouldn’t be the last either, just look into your closet and you’ll be able to see mountains of jewelleries and handbags, most of them are tokens of apology from Yuta.

“What about you and Johnny, huh? Do I need to kill him? Or ask you to kill him? To Prove me your loyalty.”

Yuta was looking at you straight in the eye, both of you having the death glare at each other.

“All these years being beside you is enough proof,” you said before reaching under your pillow, drawing out a knife, pointing it right at Yuta’s throat. “I could kill Seoul’s biggest criminal right now if I wanted to. Don’t test me, Yuta.”

Yuta looked into your eyes as he lowered your hand from his throat, his eyes switched from hard to soft within seconds, he could feel this wasn’t light banter anymore, you were truly angry today, and he knew how dangerous you could get if he was to burst your temper. 

“I’m sorry, tonight was indeed a bit overboard, I’ll have a talk with her tomorrow,” Yuta said as he took the knife out of your hands, placing it on your nightstand, his other hand pushing back stray hairs on your face, his touch gentle.

“Let me make it up to you, my queen.”

Yuta kissed you deeply, his tongue sinking into your wet cavern once you allowed him access as his hands wander down south, taking your nipples into his lithe fingers, pinching and twisting, your back bending upwards into his will. You bit onto his bottom lip hard, drawing out a groan from the handsome man above you, breaking off the kiss.

“You know I love it when you do that,” Yuta said breathlessly before he took the knife from the nightstand, slicing your nightgown from collar to the hem, the blade touching your skin gently.

“So beautiful, my love.”

You reached up to take off Yuta’s clothes, his perfectly sculptured body coming into view, the feeling of moisture in between your legs making you greedy for more. Once his pants and boxers were off, you reached up and took his length inside your mouth, clouding Yuta’s head with pleasurable ecstasy, but he gently pulled your head away from him.

“No, Y/N, tonight’s all about you. I’ll let you take me another time, okay?”

You nodded, lying back down on your bed with hooded eyes, those dangerous eyes that send blood down Yuta’s length. Yuta spread open your legs, and placed his mouth at your lower lips, licking at your slit, tasting your sweet nectar on his tongue.

“You taste so sweet, love,” Yuta said as he scissors you open with two fingers, his fingers sucked in by your welcoming walls, he could feel himself getting harder as he imagined how nice his cock would feel in your warm wet walls. Yuta held your entrance open with two fingers as his tongue ventured into you, the difference in texture and temperature making you whimper, it’s been so long since he last touched you this way.

Yuta ate you out with much fevour, his nose bumping your clit as he ate you out like a starved man, fingers mixing into the play, making your hands curl around his beautiful locks of hair, egging him to go harder and faster. Yuta took this as a good sign, increasing the pace of his fingers and tongue, tightening the knot in your stomach, once he sensed how close you were, Yuta opened his mouth wider, gently biting onto your clit, unravelling the knot in your stomach.

You could only scream when your high hit you so suddenly, Yuta’s name flowing out off your lips like a beautiful mantra, a melody Yuta would never get bored of. Yuta continued his ministrations to help you ride out your high as well as cleaning up your juices, licking at your pussy as his eyes fixed on your beautiful fucked out face, proud of his achievement.

“Can you take more? Or do you want to rest?” Yuta asked you as he kissed your forehead.

“I want more,” you said you pulled Yuta by his arms, drawing him close to you as you craved for his warmth.

Yuta gave his cock a few pumps before rubbing its head at your slit, coating his dick in your juices before pushing in completely, fitting inside you like a glove.

“Fuck, how are you always so tight.”

“Maybe it’s because you don’t touch me enough,” you answered breathlessly just to spike him. Yuta let out a laugh at your snark remark, “ You asked for it, baby. Don’t hold back on your words when I do just as you say.”

Yuta lifted up your legs and curled them around his waist before pulling out almost completely just to snap back his hips against yours, your back arching at the immense pleasure that coursed through your veins, your nails scratching down Yuta’s arms as he keeps up with the hard and fast pace, his face contorted in a mix of focus and pleasure as he chases for both your highs.

Every thrust of his hips sends you further over the edge as his length hits your sweet spot. Yuta is so familiar with your body that he quickly finds your sweet spot every time he touches you, bringing you your pleasurable downfall quickly. Yuta takes a nipple into his mouth as he pushes into you deeper, making you take him whole, before resuming to his quick shallow thrusts, both paces making you head spin and walls tighten around him as your orgasm grows nearer.

“Yuta, please, more,” you said in the heat of the moment, impatient for your high as you pushed your hips back onto his, developing a pace to match his, the sudden movement making Yuta clench his teeth in pleasure, his neck thrown back as the pleasure washes over him, making him more desperate for release. Yuta picks your legs up to thrusts into you at a higher angle that allows him to go even faster. Sounds of skin slapping skin filling your whole room as well as the loud bangs of your bed frame against the wall, if the whole penthouse wasn’t yours, you’d be receiving complaints by now.

“Cum for me, Y/N. I want to cum inside of you,” Yuta said as he reached a hand down to rub circles on your clit, sending you over the edge. The way your walls were clenching down on Yuta’s length as well as the sting he felt from your nails on his arms brought Yuta his sweet release with a cry of your name, the pace of his hips slowing down to ride out both of your highs.

You cooed at the feeling of his warm spurts of cum painting your walls, his length going limp inside of you. Yuta collapses beside you with him still being inside you as he pulls you closer into his embrace, fatigue settling into both your bodies.

“I love you, Y/N. And it’ll always only be you,” Yuta said breathlessly as he laid on your breasts, the feeling of your soft mounds so addictive on his cheeks.

“Mhm, I love you too, Yuta,” you said before drifting off to sleep, barely registering the movements on your bed when Yuta pulled you into his arms, a feather light kiss on your temple.

[theelliottsmiths]

It makes me really sad how people happily consume deep, obviously hard won, creative output but aren’t at all prepared to accept that sometimes that battle gets a little ugly. Like you’re consuming content that obviously attracts a lot of criticism, and is completely impossible to do even from a practical point of view (recording, touring, etc.) without leaving the security blanket of employment, social security or society’s approval but expect the people in it to just ... not ever stand out or to misfit or be uncomfortable. It reminds me of what we had the other day, there is a fascination with darkness and wildness and being rebellious, but rarely are the onlookers prepared to deal with the blood and the tears and the dirt. I don’t understand that.

I mean I am basically expected to defend Richard at this point, but the thing is, he’s probably insufferable a lot of times. What gets to me whenever this comes up though, is that all the attributes people apply to him that are negative, almost all exclusively come from himself. Like, people read those interviews and for like one exception where Schneider is being a dick, it’s not like the others say “Richard was too controlling and dramatic” it’s him saying “yeah, I did that and that’s why I moved.” It’s like ... all the negative things people believe about him come from himself. People think he thinks he did the main stuff on Mutter because he went and said “I did too much on that album.” Because the rest of the band is pretty mum about it. And it makes me suspicious, and again, sad for him, that he is perceived that way because he goes out there and dares to show that vulnerable and flawed side of himself and admits what he’s done, and now he’s the boogieman because the others don’t say what they did, too.

Sorry for the emotional ramble, I’m thin skinned today, but I don’t know, people that make themselves vulnerable that way often get treated that way, and it just depresses me.

Disclaimer for the previous anon: this isn't about you specifically, this is a general thing

I think a lot of the issue is that most of the community on Tumblr are quite young and are still coming to terms with just how grey people are (not to mention we have no experience with 40 year relationships because the majority of us are half that, literally babies when it happened)? Because the reality is yes, people have flaws that are more offputting than lovable quirks and that's okay. The expectation that none of us should ever be annoying or have moments of cuntishness or self-centeredness is unrealistic and unfair, and the guys understand that well enough not to hold it against each other forever, especially when it's actively being improved. There are limits and he hit them, but that doesn't mean throw the whole boy out. He has so many good traits that balance it out!!! They clearly decided he was worth enough to them in other ways to keep around, the good times were enough to outweigh the bad ones.

I honestly think they all agreed, Richard included, that sanding it down into just saying it was Richards fault and moving on is the best course of action. I wouldn't be surprised if he's going a bit overboard to almost atone for it, downplaying other people's parts in it because it can't be denied that he was having a bad time. If you assume his heavy drug use was involved theres a whole other layer of regret and guilt and heightened emotions that could compound to make his reaction to his own behaviour worse. I just almost teared up considering that maybe he brings it up to remind himself and to show everyone else that he's trying? All of this post is essentially fanfiction with sources but that even more so but listen... Ouchie, right? Whereas most of the others are more forgiving of themselves and their behaviour so it's faded to a greater degree. If he shut up about it a bit more I wonder if they'd ever bring it up. He really does beat himself up and insist it's all in the name of his art.

We have slightly different opinions on the importance of Artistic Pain and Suffering, I know you side more than Richard on that than I do, but I can definitely agree that there's an issue with people loving the end product but rejecting how it came to be in the first place. That doesn't make any sense the way I worded it huh? If you want moral purity then anything outside that is going to feel like a blow. Is that why they say you should never meet your idols?

Related to that none-thing I just tried to say, there's also the fact that Richard has gone to therapy and worked on this stuff: He does acknowledge his issues and how they affected everyone else, and it's pretty clear the others appreciate that. A lot of it, even from our limited knowledge, has clear origins so I don't doubt that they take everything he's been through personally into consideration. I imagine the same can be said of Till and to a certain extent all the others too. You can't look at them through a purely individualistic lens, that's not how they think.

You know how a lot of people with mental health issues get into periods of hating themselves and can list a whole bunch of overinflated reasons why they're terrible awful bad waste-of-a-fleshsuit humans? Sometimes when Richard is discussed it's like people are listening to that and they agreeing without taking a second to evaluate the objectivity of the source. It's hard to look at for too long for some people. Till is treated way more sympathetically; his Bad Traits are less grating for people who don't know and aren't actually around him, I suppose.

I'm trying to find a quote by I think Paul about how he had to read a book of some kind to be able to understand and talk to Richard, Tumblr is impossible to search, but it really does highlight the effort they all put in that we don't see. They have long, long conversations with each other, they didn't just get angry, yell a bit, and then wait for things to change. Sometimes people forget that personal growth is a thing. He's not the same person in 2021 as he was in 2011 or 2001 or any other time.

Uh. Here's a cute Richard to improve the mood

[bigskydreaming]

About all the stuff you were talking about, do you know any fics that handle those things well? It is exhausting trying to go through the Dick Grayson tag to try and find ones that handle even one of those remotely well so any you can tell me would be wonderful.

I use my Bookmarks page as a go-to for people looking for that sorta thing. I haven’t added to it in awhlie which is like, a useful reminder for myself to rectify that.

I’m not sure off the top of my head what fics on there address these particular areas of canon or fanon issues, but they’re in there, and I don’t bookmark anything I wouldn’t reread since that’s....the only reason I bookmark stuff lol. Aka nothing that contains elements or fanon tropes/issues that would’ve pulled me out of the read on the first go-through.

Specific authors who I consistently like for their takes on all of that, hmmm....off the top of my head, @dustorange only deals in Quality Stuff and her Hierarchy of Needs for Dick’s characterization has similar enough rankings to my own personal one, that I’m always like, yes, this hit all the beats I was hoping for from this summary, I am full, I could not eat another bite. But maybe a dessert course later. I guess. If you insist.

In terms of specific takes and tropes I’ve been talking about tonight, @themessofthecentury has a fic that delves into all the Spyral aftermath in a really satisfying way. Y’ever been like, ugh can someone please write a lengthy beast of a multi-chapter that takes all of that and says ‘Lo, there is Gold in these hills” and has a range of POVs but that all consistently prioritize and center Dick in the areas and matters he should be the one prioritized? That’s the one, that’s Fault Lines, its a WIP but its alive and kicking and very much what you’re looking for to read something actually catharctic after the way all of that was handled in canon and most related fics.

Umm, lessee.... @hood-ex is all about Top Notch Tropes, especially for great scenes where Dick’s with a wide range of characters, and its like, casual slice-of-life stuff, but delivered in a way that Just Says No to fanon and even when writing Dick as light-hearted and having a good day, its like...actually in character for him and he’s not Dick Grayson, The Balloon Animal That Walks Like A Man (but is actually 70% sugary cereal). You gotta follow her on tumblr though to get all the fics, cuz she’s like me in that she writes a lot of done-in-one scenes that never get moved over to Ao3 because eh, we’ll do it tomorrow but also we’ll forget about it by tonight so no actually we won’t. And thus there’s a lot of hidden gems to be found there.

@ckbookish writes a lot of stuff set in the early Nightwing days when Jason was Robin, and from what I’ve read there’s a lot of focus on Dick and Jason bonding and also exploration of Dick’s thoughts and reactions to Bruce’s “Bruce NO” behavior of that era that’s very much in character and IMO hits all the right notes in the complicated arrangement of allowing Dick his Feels there and placing the appropriate blame where appropriate but without demonizing Bruce and over-embellishing the more than enough to work with fuck-ups canon helpfully provided for that era. 

In fact, in general I’m inclined to say the author sticks as closely to canon as possible while just....making it better by just adding the little ingredient that is ‘Actual Exploration of Dick’s Feelings and Choices As Viewed Through Empathy-Colored Glasses By Someone Who I Feel Actually HAS Met or Been A Teenager At Some Point in Their Life and Thus Is Aware They’re Not Actually Unreasonable Wild Animals Whose Behavior Even When Rational Is Actually Irrational Cuz Hormones Yeah I Know I Was Surprised Too’. So I’d say their work consistenly delivers the story and emotional beats I look for from Bruce, Dick and Jason in that era, actually humanizing all three of them without going overboard with adding flaws all willy-nilly just cuz.

The only reason its not on my bookmarks page is cuz unfortunately, the sticking close to canon means Dick joining the Bludhaven police force to try and clean it up from the inside, and like.....not a criticism or condemnation of the execution of that premise at all, like, Dick’s clear in his reasons and from what I read goes about it in a way that actually fits if Dick had criticisms of the institution as a whole and an earnest belief he can effect change to it from the inside, its just like, purely as a personal subjectivity thing, Dick Grayson and Being a Cop is like my ultimate NOTP, I see it and I reflexively hiss like a vampire who forgot the sun was a thing. Its just not for me in any execution, but if that’s not true for you then its got everything else I’d look for in fic and thus while I can’t vouch for his characterization or the dynamics in later stories, like, I’m pretty sure you’d still be in Primo Characterization territory. 

There’s stuff on my bookmarks page from an author named discowing(amelia from a fairytale) - something like that. I can’t recall their tumblr off the top of my head but I know she says it somewhere in some of her author’s notes. Anyway, her stuff runs the gamut but consistently delivers on moments I really wish we could see in canon, so def worth a read. And I know her views on the Spyral aftermath and what’s needed for actual catharsis there are right in my wheelhouse, just in general, so if that’s the barometer you’re going by, then like.....idk whatever a barometer says or does when it gets the readings its supposed to, look its late, that’s the metaphor I’m going with, just pretend it was solid.

Those are just some of the authors where I’m familiar with more than one of their works off the top of my head and tend to like their focus and narrative/character choices across the board. I don’t know the full extent of work of every author linked on my Bookmarks page, like a lot of people write a lot of fic in a lot of fandom and I see a long list of fandoms and fics all organized by date posted so its more like one DC fic per page, and my ADHD self is like hahaha what if it was naptime tho zzzz.

But yeah, that’s not nearly enough to sate my greed and want for Good Dick Grayson Takes but it should get you started. There’s some good stuff out there, that’s never been in question, its just that like you said, it can be exhausting trying to wade through fics that you can’t tell at a glance if they’d be to your liking or not because the tags are all complimentary of Dick but two chapters in you’re like wait is this the other kids’ brother or is this their nanny, I feel like I’m reading about what if Fran Drescher wore tights and fought crime with flippity-flips. Which I mean, that’s a Premise right there, alright, its just not remotely the premise I look for out of fic where I have the weird expectation that Dick should be treated and regarded more like equal family to his siblings than like, okay what if he was actually just an au pair that was mostly hired to be eye candy.

[justimagaine]

“Melancholy” Series Part 6 - I Can’t / Chris Evans

Part 1 - “Oh, fuck them” ; Part 2 - “I’m here” ; Part 3 - “Just Try” ; Part 4 - “I Support You” ; Part 5 - “I Need Help”

  After your first visit with the doctor you were in a mix of emotions. At first you had a really hard time to open up and be honest about what you were feeling. From time to time, you’d pull on your sleeps to hide your hands and even look back at the door. The feeling of wanting Chris to hug you never left you. When you needed to express your thoughts and feelings, you didn’t know where to start. There was so much going on in you. The therapist saw you were having trouble with talking,  how you kept apologizing for not saying much, but she reassured you that it was perfectly fine to not be able to fully express every feeling you were feeling, especially to someone you just met. As always Chris was right.

  She never made you go to far, she let you take it at your own pace. Talked about work and friends, family. You felt comfortable with her, but still you wanted to be in a big hug. A hug only the man behind that closed wooden door could give you. She also noticed how you were looking back at the door, and asked you about it

  “Do you have a feeling as if you want to run away?” you quickly shook your head, feeling bad that you made her think you wanted to run away “is it about the man behind the door?” you slowly nodded as a small smile spread  across your lips, “does he make you feel safe?” she really was a great doctor asking question and saying statements that hit the nail on the head. 

  “Yes,” you looked up at her “he doesn’t judge me for being like this” she nodded smiling herself.

  “Good, because there’s nothing to judge. Everyone has mental health, just like everyone has health. In the course of a lifetime, not all people will experience a mental illness, but everyone will struggle or have a challenge with their mental well-being just like we all have challenges with our physical well-being from time to time. There’s nothing to be ashamed about or judged for” in your hour long appointment you felt like you didn’t talk much, but she told you it was okay. For your first time you had done a very good job. One thing she did say was that you felt more comfortable when you talked about Chris. She said that he clearly was your safe space and that it was good to have someone like that in your life, especially when you’re starting to see a therapist. Going to sessions could be really hard on some people. You were one of those people, you were scared but also proud of yourself for going. Setting up the next appointment wasn’t as scary as having the first.

  You went back to see her the next week and it was much easier then the first time and just like Chris promised he took you there and supported you. He would give you the same hug the same smile, but the next time it would be bigger as if he was even prouder of you that you went back again and knowing you’d be going back the next week made him even happier. He saw how the first appointment helped you, how you felt better. There really was improvement, even though you did hope that maybe after that one time you’d be immediately back to the old you but that was a long shot. Nothing happened in life like you liked it, how you wished it. Things like mental health took a lot longer time, a lot more work and support from people around you. Chris was your best and only support system.

  After your second appointment  Chris’s family was having a barbecue to which you were more then welcomed to. Actually his mom call Chris and specifically asked for you to be invited, she told him that she hadn’t seen you in a such a long time, and she missed you. He smiled hearing his mother say all that, Chris knew how she felt. The sad feeling of not seeing you, hearing your voice or laugh, but to him it was a hundred times harder to be away from you, to not see you all the time. Even thought the reason you two saw each other so often right now was quite sad, but very important, he was glad to be bale to talk to you and see you. Especially since now he saw you smile more, laugh more. You seemed to gain back your confidence and he couldn’t be more happier about that. 

  The Evans barbecue arrived and you were excited to see everyone especially Lisa. You had a lot to talk about to her, exchange recipes and just have a good laugh.

  “Are you sure this is going to be enough?” you asked Chris over the phone, refusing to the cookies and salads you made for everyone. 

  “I told you, you didn’t have to bring anything at all, so it’s more then enough” you listened to him, and gave him a look that you knew he couldn’t see but couldn’t help yourself.

  “You should know me better by now Chris. I’m not going to show up with empty hands, especially since I haven’t seen your family in a long time” while talking you kept looking at everything you were bringing, hoping it would be enough and that they would like it. 

  “I know you better then you think” you smiled at his response “are you sure you don’t me to pick you up? I already helped Scott set up everything, and can go” Chris, as always was being the biggest gentlemen, but you weren’t having any of it at the moment. He had to spend time with his family, since Chris was always around you and talking to you, he hadn’t seen them that much, making you feel guilty, but you kept reminding yourself that you never made Chris do what he did, your therapist told you to try and not be upset about things that weren’t really your fault. When ever I’d feel guilty she tell me to think back in the situation, did I ask for it, did I make someone do something. Or did the person offer it themselves or just do it without your asking. No matter how much you’d like for things to always be okay and work out, nothing works like that. There’s always going to be a little bit bad with good. In this case you had told Chris he didn’t have to always be with you, or answer your calls, but there was no point in telling him that, Chris wouldn’t listen.

  “I’ll be fine Chris. Be with your family.” you were already putting things in your car “I’ll be there very soon. I’m pretty much on the rode already” everything was placed on the back seat and only then you saw that just maybe you had gone overboard with the foods,

  “Okay, drive carefully. I can’t wait to see you” his words made your stomach flip. Even know when you were doing a lot better. So much better since Chris found you in that dark room, ready to give up, hearing him say that he wanted to see you made you happy, excited and very wanted. After telling him you couldn’t wait to see him to, you were on your way. There was much excitement in you, It had been a while since you felt like this. It could be the fun barbecue you were about to walk in with a family that were so loving and also could professionally work as comedians or the man that you knew would be standing outside is family home patiently waiting for your arrival. Ether way you enjoyed this feeling you were having

  Just as you predicted driving up to the house Chris was sitting on the front porch, seeing your car coming closer Chris jumped up and waved, with a big smile on his lips, you couldn’t help but smile back at him. Your car hadn’t fully stopped yet when Chris was already opening your door and happily greeting you, he basically lifted you out of the car into his hug,

  “How you doing?” he whispered in your ear, still holding you close, so close you could feel his fast heartbeat beating against yours.

  “I’m good” you leaned back a bit to look in his eyes, so he could see you weren’t lying “I’m really good” Chris and you were just inches apart, not even a small animal could come between the two of you. For a split second you saw Chris look from your eyes to your lips, the quickly looked away when hearing his moms cheerful voice 

  “Let other people got that beautiful girl” she said running up and pulling you away from her son and into her loving embrace. She was just as good of a hugger as Chris, you could tell where he got his hugging skills. “i’m so happy to see you” she told you giving you cheek a kiss

 “I’m happy to see you too Lisa. You look very beautiful” with a slight blush on her cheeks and a oh gosh. She was pulling you in the house, “oh wait I made something for everyone” you tried to walk back to the car, but Lisa wasn’t letting go off you

  “it’s okay, Chris will get it. Right, son?” she gave him a sweet smile as she kept pulling you in 

  “Yes ma`am” Chris answered opening your car, mouthing him a quick I’m sorry and thank you, Lisa had you already pulled in the house loudly announcing your arrival. The quick attention from everyone in the house and in the back made you a bit uneasy. It had been a while since you saw everyone and having everyone look at you and talk to you almost everyone at the same time, scared you a bit. With a shaky voice you greeted everyone, some people wanted hugs, some just waved at you.��Luckily Lisa soon pulled you in the kitchen right as Chris came in with al your food placing it on the table, he looked at you and saw the look in your eyes had changed

  “Hey” you felt him put his palm on your shoulder “you okay?” looking up at him you nodded, but gave an honest answer

  “just got a bit overwhelmed with the amount of people, all at once” Chris was mentally slapping himself for not warning you about how many people would be at the house.

  “Sorry, I should have told you” Lisa was watching your interaction, feeling a bit worried. She didn’t what was going on but she knew there was something. Lisa was a mother with exhalent motherly senses when it came to someone not being well. She also noticed how his son was looking at you with the most concern and guilt in his eyes. She wasn’t a fool, Lisa saw how Chris was worried about you, especially in the last few weeks, how he’d always answer your call even when he was in a conversation of a topic he would never back down of. Lisa knew you had anxiety, and some things Chris had said made her thing something was wrong with, something had happened, but she wasn’t going to ask. If you wanted to talk about it, you’d tell her. The only time she’d ask you herself would be if you had no one to talk to, but you had Chris and as she was witnessing with her own eyes he was very good and caring to you.

  First two hours you spent with Lisa in the kitchen placing foods on plats and talking about life. She had a lot to tell you and ask you. With every question Lisa asked, you felt her trying to get closer to a something she’s been avoiding. So you decided to get there for her. You trusted Lisa and knew she was just like Chris, nonjudgmental. Your therapist told you , to start trusting more people, people who you always felt like you could trust but your own fear kept you from being honest and open with them

  “So I started to do something new” you started speaking, but didn’t look at her, “something I should have done a long time ago” Lisa stopped what she was doing, from your tone of voice she knew it wasn’t a new hobby you picked up, like painting and knitting. it was something a lot more serous, your lack of eye contact also gave that away. You found yourself in the same place, the same scared, unsure if you should bother her with such information.

  “Honey, what is it? You can trust me” she said placing her hand on yours. She was right and you had to be honest about your life and what you were doing. There was nothing wrong in seeking help. So you told her, you told her about how horrible you had been feeling and how dark things had gotten. You did keep some details away from her, not wanting to upset her, make her sad. You also made sure to tell her that the only reason you are going to therapy is because of her sons amazing support and care. In the end Lisa teared up and embraced you, rubbing your back she said quietly “I’m proud of you honey” you cold feel that she was proud of you and it was an amazing feeling. To have someone say that, to be able to open up to another person, overcome your fears and it to pay off “this is good, this is really good” she said after pulling away from each other.

  Wanting to keep up a good mood for the party you two changed the subject and Chris and Scott coming in laughing and joking around helped even more. As always those two goofballs were cracking up each other and everyone around them. Being around these kinds of people was good for you. To forget rest or the world and all the bad that was going on, being able to relax, enjoy yourself, have a good laugh. When around them you would laugh till your stomach would hurt. It had been a while since you laughed this much. 

  Some time later everyone went kind of scattered around the house and backyard. You were playing some games with Lisa’s grand babies, while some were still cooking some left over meat, some were inside watching tv. Chris was still sitting at the table enjoying the feeling of being at his childhood home, having his family around, peace. He smiled at his mom that had sat down in front of him, but his attention was quickly pulled away, when he heard your laugh. With a smile he looked at you, how you were playing with the kids and having the time of your life. You looked so care free, so happy. He loved seeing you like that.

  “I’m very proud of you Chris” Lisa spoke getting his attention back. He smiled at her 

  “Thank you ma” he said sipping on his beer

  “I’m not talking about your job” now he was a bit confused as to what could his mom be talking about. He didn’t think there was anything else in his life that could make her so proud “I’m proud that you are such a good man, such a good friend” Lisa looked at you, smiling “you were there for her when she thought she had no one. When she was ready to give up you pulled her out of the darkness showing her that there’s so much out there to live for” she looked at Chris who was now looking only at you. She could tell he was thinking back at everything that had happened leading up to this “you did good son. Look how happy she is. You saved her life” Lisa stood up, went around the table, hugged him and kissed the top of his head. Still holding they two watched you play with kids, then look up and wave at them

  “You gonna come join us?” you asked looking at Chris, without hesitation he left his beer behind and joined you all. Rest of the day you all played games, talked and just had a great time but as always the day had to come to an end. Lisa packed you some leftovers and helped put them in your car as you talked about few more things you two hadn’t discussed. Chris was already by your car, patiently waiting. He wasn’t going with you, he was waiting for his turn to get your attention.

 “Well thank you honey for coming over” Lisa said hugging you goodbye, you thanked her and turned to Chris,

  “Is it my turn to hug you now? or did my family take all the hugs you had?” he joked walking closer to you

  “You know I always have a hug for you” closing the distance you wrapped your arms around him, Chris pulled you closer, he held you tight, resting his head on yours. It felt as if nether one of you wanted to let go and it was true you didn’t want to let go of him. You loved hugging him, if someone asked you to chose eating your all time favorite meal or hugging Chris, without hesitation you’d hug Chris. Eventually you had to let go of him. Both, him and Lisa, watched you get in your car and drive off. The whole time that all was happening Lisa watched her son. She watched him hug you and breath in your sent, she watched him get sad when letting go of you, but Chris kept the smile on his lips, she watched how that smile he had on fell the moment you drove off and couldn’t be seen anymore. He sighed lowering his head. She waited for Chris to say something or to turn around and walk in the house, but he just stood there

  “What’s wrong? She told you she’ll text you when she gets home” Lisa said even though she knew that wasn’t the reason her son got so sad. He had just spent a whole day with you, laughing, hugging, playing games with the kids,  in everyone's eyes looking like a couple, now he had to watch you leave and come back to reality 

  “I love her ma” Chris confessed looking at her by his side. There were so many emotions in that man, Lisa could see it all in his eyes

  “Then tell her,” he shook his head. If only it was that easy. If only he could do that. 

  “I can’t. I can’t pile more emotions and new twists on her. Not now” Chris sighed turning to his mom “I can’t be selfish. I can’t tell her that I’ve loved her since the first time I saw her “Chris was ranting now, close to yelling “I can't tell her that, no matter how much I want, because it's not fair on her.” Chris sighed, looked at the rode you had just gone down. “I can’t lose  her. I want her to be happy and I don’t care how it happens, by me being her good friend or boyfriend. She needs to be happy, she deserves to be happy” he finished talking, started to walk to the house when Lisa spoke up

  “And you don’t? “ he looked back at her “you don’t deserve to be happy? And telling her that you love her could help her more. Being there for her in a new way could do so much good, to her and you” Lisa walked and stop in front of Chris “Don’t deprive yourself from happiness and love. And I’ve seen how the girl looks at you and hugs you. She feels the same way” Lisa knew her son was about to protest and say she was seeing things, so she walked away leaving him there alone in his thoughts. Thoughts about you. Maybe his mom was right, maybe you loved him too and you cold make each other happy, but he knew it wasn’t the right time to find out.

  You had just started therapy, you had just started to get pack on track and him reveling his feeling could push you off the track, make you confused. Chris wanted you to concentrate on your mental health, not a new relationship. So he’ll just keep it in, be there for you as a friend and help you be happy, he was even ready to accept the fact that one day if another man showed up one day and he was making you happy, he’d  support it and step back. Even if it would break his heart, seeing you happy was all he wanted even if he wasn’t the one making you happy anymore.

—

Tag: @chris-butt​ ; @denisemarieangelina ; @jennmurawski13​ ; @chriscaprogers ; @raabrakha ; @captainchrisstan ;

[ivystjamess]

IF IT WEREN'T FOR IVY'S CONSTANT NEED to both prove herself and receive praise from her parents, she likely wouldn't have auditioned for into the woods. it wasn't grease or mamma mia with the prize of sandy dumbrowski or sophie sheridan waiting for her to grab. it was just...into the woods. and sure, while she wasn't passionate about the show itself, she was passionate about the validation and attention scoring a good role might bring. ivy st.james had her eye set on the role she wanted and as always she was fully prepared to use every tool in her arsenal to snatch it up. ivy wanted to be cinderella just for the sake of being cinderella. she liked her songs and the pretty costume and for once, didn't really mind setting her sights on a role other than the primary female lead. while she could easily blow any role in the show out of the water, ivy had carefully crafted her audition materials for the directing panel to see her as cinderella. ivy st.james and cinderella would soon be synonymous in their eyes if she could help it. 

despite having just finalized her song on monday after receiving davis' input, ivy felt more than prepared come wednesday. auditioning was routine to her at this point, pull her hair out of her face, put on a nice outfit, prepare, prepare, prepare, and she'd be set. oftentimes it felt like ivy first learned to walk, then speak, then shortly after she learned how to audition. it was years upon years of lessons for this specific thing that left her knowing that if she were to engage in conversation, keep it short and sweet, to drink plenty of water, and not let a single thing get into her head. 

those were the basics. but ivy was both blessed and cursed with berry-st.james genes that always left her going a little bit overboard. at school wednesday, ivy refused to speak and claimed she was on vocal rest through a text to speech app she'd downloaded on her phone. she had told julien he could hitch a ride with her, but they had to keep their conversation minimum to none. even when ivy only kinda wanted something, she would do everything within her power to make sure she got it. playing danny had been alright, but at the end of the day, she wanted sandy. as long as she could help it, she wouldn't miss the mark on getting what she wanted again. 

while in the reception area of the lima players building, ivy sat patiently, sipped on her water bottle, and reviewed her materials in her head. she tried not to acknowledge those around her too heavily. this was community theatre. the pool was wider. while it brought fun talent like davis or some of the boys from dalton to the table, it also brought the clarington-smythe sisters. while her and emory were mostly friendly, they were still competitors. and when it came to darcy? ivy knew she couldn't take one look at the girl without getting completely thrown off. rarely did she have to face these pre-audition obstacles at mckinley, but even in a more expanded setting, ivy had to remain in her own little, focused world or suffer the consequences of a botched audition.

eventually, her name had been called and she was relieved to stand and enter the audition room. in her typical fashion, she handed a resume to each of the directors before surrendering her book to the accompanist and talking through her music. once all the formalities were out of the way, it was down to business. from the moment ivy entered the room, she was polite and smiled like her life depended on it, but the real magic would happen in a moment once she got her slate out of the way, "good afternoon, I'm ivy st.jarnes. today i will be performing journey to the past from anastasia composed by stephen flaherty and lynn ahrens." she let that information sit with the directors before announcing, "in addition to my song, i will be performing  rather be a man by joseph arnone, then as a dance sample, i will be performing one step closer from the little mermaid with the help of davis goolsby" with her audition materials out in the open, only one thing left to communicate. with a smile, ivy sweetly stated, "i would love to be considered for the role of cinderella, but i will gladly accept any role. thank you." then cast a glance towards the accompanist. moments later, her music began, and showtime. 

`heart don't fail me now, courage don't desert me, don't turn back now that we're here.' 

ivy vocalized effortlessly, sure to keep an unwavering optimism in both her tone and her expression. in ivy's eyes, journey to the past was the perfect song to audition with for cinderella. the song held a sense of adventure that was ideal for a show like into the woods which was all about a journey. she kept her blocking to a minimal and let her voice do the talking. sure, there was an occasional pace to the left or the right, a clasped hand over her chest here or there, and near constant longing, furrowed brows. she could act and dance her heart away in later portions of her audition.

'home, love, family, there was once a time when i must have had them too.' 

while she continued to hit each note with ease, ivy tried to step into cinderella's slippers. it certainly wasn't a character she could relate very deeply too. her home life was close to ideal and rarely did she turn down male attention, but just imagining herself in a beautiful gown and golden slippers was enough for the trained performer to put a believable desire in her tone. cinderella might have longed for her mother or to go to the festival or to run away with the baker, but what did ivy st.james long for? her mind wandered to the depths of her heart and her wants. she wanted julien to stand up for her more, she wanted to be taken seriously as a performer outside of her parents, she wanted the other members of new directions to appreciate her efforts, she wanted to be liked, and she wanted to maybe even be prom queen one day. sure, those wishes looked nothing like cinderella's but as she belted the emotional peak, her hearts desires might as well have looked the same as anastasia's or cinderella's. 

'yes this is a sign, let this road be mine, let it lead me to my past, and bring me home at last!' 

ivy concluded the song with a smile and tried not to look too breathless as she seamlessly transitioned into her monologue. sure, it was a little more aggressive, bitter even, and while that was the opposite of cinderella, ivy wanted to show off that she did have a range. and beside, there was some obvious reluctance from cinderella to her prince, she wanted to show her capability in that regard. her recitation of the monologue elicited a few laughs which was always a good sign and had ivy's heart singing as if she were sally field at the 1985 oscars. 

now that her monologue had successfully wrapped, it was time for davis to enter the room. ivy worried that maybe it was poor etiquette for the end of her audition to overlap with the beginning of his, but the directors seemed to be eating up their collaboration as the instrumental portion of one step closer from the little mermaid began.

it had been davis' idea to do this waltz-y number and ivy didn't mind. she'd do pretty much anything to put herself over the top of the rest of the competition. after conversing for a little, most of their private rehearsal in her basement consisted of choreographing the number and perfecting all of the little tricks so the pair looked elegant together rather than foolish. throughout the dance, ivy kept her eyes locked with davis' as she concentrated on hitting each precise and quick motion. into the woods definitely wasn't a dance heavy show, but as far as ivy (and davis) was concerned, it was better to cover all bases than leave a director wondering. 

come the end of the dance, she was a little winded, but flashed a winning smile at the judges all the same. she thanked them again as she went to grab her book from the accompanist. each director gave a standard thank you back and reminded her she'd hear from them sunday. while sunday couldn't come soon enough, she held her chin high and binder close to her chest as she exited the room. and as a show of good sportsmanship, ivy even issued a "break a leg" to davis on her way out. 

out of sight from the directing panel, ivy finally let out a breath. she'd done all she could. now it was just a waiting game.

END.

[simptasia]

ultimate ship meme ask <3 for science trio!

ah, thank you! i’m so sorry it took me this long to respond, i didn’t mean for 2 bloody weeks to pass. i kept procrastinating or being too tired

daniel + charlotte + miles

General:

Rate the Ship Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OT3 to Rule all other OT3s

How long will they last? 

eternity and then some

How quickly did/will they fall in love?

daniel @ charlotte, i’m thinking like a week or so. kinda hit him like a bullet

charlotte @ daniel, two or three weeks

daniel @ miles, somewhere from a couple of months to a year

charlotte @ miles, in living timeline didn’t happen, in limboverse, i’ll give her 3 months. and she loved him as a friend already anyways. i imagine it’s her who brings miles into the fold, allowing the sci trio to be fully realised

miles @ daniel and charlotte, oh Fuck Knows. it happens, but [shrugs]. and i like the idea that miles didn’t realise he was in love with daniel and charlotte (and sawyer and juliet) until waaay after their time together. like he falls in love with richard and then The Power Of Hindsight kinda fucks him over

(and for anybody who gets snippy saying that “a couple of weeks is too quick to fall in love!” or some shit: my bf fell in love with me in 2 weeks, and for me it took a month. so nyeh. also hurley/libby, sayid/shannon and charlie/claire)

How was their first kiss?

all of these take place in limboverse

daniel/charlotte: so i imagine this happens like right after they Remember, so emotions are running high and char is like “i’m gonna do something i should have done when we were alive” and just sorta grabs dan’s face and <3

and dan is stunned for a second and then sinks into it. you know that lovely trope of somebody being kissed and their eyes are open and then they practically melt closed from the kissy feelings. and they’re soulmates and this has been a long time coming and i feel cliche but uh, fireworks

daniel/miles: so the three of them have started Their Thing and like, they’re in a sexual relationship now but because char started this, dan is unsure about like, do him and miles do... stuff... together too? is that a thing? they were all touching each other during The Event. plus dan isn’t exactly sure how he feels about miles, but he’s been slowly getting more attracted to him over time. and also dan’s never been with a guy before. so yeah dan is overthinking things and meanwhile, miles is like “if he’s up for it, i’m down” but keeping his distance because like, it’s dan and he doesn’t know if dan is into him

that was a long build up to say, eventually the dan/miles side of the triangle does get figured out and after a moment of awkwardness dan kisses miles, tentative at first and then That Spark happens and they both get into it. at one moment miles pulls back just a bit and dan deliriously like... chases his mouth. because it turns out kissing miles is awesome. and miles notes dan’s a good kisser too, and dan isn’t even offended at the surprised in miles’ tone. 

so in short, dan and miles’ first kiss went on for longer than miles expected because dan got tingly soup brain

also in both of dan’s first kisses with these two he kept his hands to himself outta 1. not thinking clearly because Mouth Things and 2. awkwardness. both char and miles had to grab dan’s hands and place them upon themselves, to remind him, you have these, please use them (there’s a line i give char: “i think you’d find i have many lovely things below my shoulders, dan”). from then on, dan is Characteristically Handsy. annnnyways!

charlotte/miles: it was very shortly after they met actually. pierre introduced them at the museum and there was attraction yes, but also this spark which they both wordlessly acknowledge. when pierre has left (just to get coffee hjjdhasa), they talk for a bit and then casually agree to go somewhere private. a coat check room. they got hit with familiarity and both of them being the type of people who have casual sex that information translated into “i’m gonna fuck this person now”

so basically their first kiss was messy, frantic, impulsive, clothes quickly being taken off, etc etc. thats how their friends with benefits thing started, even before they were friends, really. this was years ago and they became besties

Wedding:

in this set-up, it’d be dan and char getting married

Who proposed?

dan, technically but it wasn’t a surprise. marriage was something both of them discussed for a while before and char was the one who brought it up

(and here is where she jokes “you know what my mum would say about me marrying an american” and daniel gets an Awful Feeling from that)

Who is the best man/men?

well, miles, of course. richard is also one of the groomsman <3

Who is the braid’s maid(s)?

Why Weren’t You Allowed To Have Lady Friends

and besides that, most of the available women in lost have Moved On

annnnd i just remembered char has two sisters. chelsea and chloe

Who did the most planning?

char. it’s not that dan doesn’t care, it’s just she just has more preferences. patterns and colours and things like that. but they all pitch in at least a little

tho miles is the least help. at one point char holds up two swatches for bridesmaids dresses and asks which one he likes more (she’ll decide herself, she just wants Interaction, for her nerves) and miles doesn’t look up from his magazine and says “the left one”. char is annoyed and he says “whichever one is closest to purple”. they’re each a shade of green and blue

Who stressed the most?

oh, char. she never thought she’d get married so she’s never really emotionally prepared herself for it. or for planning a event like this. she isn’t paitent with people she doesn’t already like so dealing with wedding business people has been a task. and just. marriage isn’t stressful, weddings are. which is why dan is gonna be a good boy and absolutely help. and miles is also helping...

char: and how exactly have you been helping??

miles: [serious tone] i’m the plucky comic relief

char: [death glare]

miles: ...i’ll go pick up the flowers

- later -

daniel: heeey miles, you know how you and charlotte like to playfully snipe at each other? ...you can’t do that right now, she’s kinda stressed

miles: [wheeling in dozens of lillies] yeah, i figured that

char, from the other room: WHY ARE CAKES SO FUCKING EXPENSIVE

How fancy was the ceremony?

Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

i’ll give this a 7 outta 10 on the “ooh aah” scale. oh yeah they could absolutely afford a huge fuck off wedding but they didn’t want one. also another reason they didn’t have a Huge Wedding is that dan, char and miles legit don’t know enough people i always picture their wedding happens in like a park. a nice one. and there’s a real prevalant flower motif happening here. arch covered in flowers, petals on the ground, lotsa white lillies about. there’s a real English Garden / cottage aesthetic vibe to this. char’s got a flower in her hair and i just decided her wedding dress has like cloth white flowers on it, not all over it. so like, the whole thing is cute and elegant  and flowery and more expensive than it looks. the main colours being used are white, light blue and lilac

oh oh, the cake is chocolate on the inside! and it’s white (duh) but with lilac flower trim around each layer. char never planned for a wedding before but once she adjusted to the idea she was like “this is gonna be really really pretty”

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding?

eloise. no explanation needed

Sex:

Who is on top?

well, everybody who can be, has been. char has defo given dan and miles the strap. the least toppage going on is dan topping miles. very rarely happens

Who is the one to instigate things?

well, char is the Most instigate-y and dan is the least instigate-y, with miles in the middle. and damn if that doesn’t sum up their dynamic

How healthy is their sex life?

Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

gonna give them all, overall, a reasonable eight. it happens a Lot, but it’s not a crazy amount. (except when dan and char are trying for a baby, then dan is... dan is... lovingly tenderized)

there’s diff variables (heh) at play here, but for the most part theres quite a bit of sex going all around. so yeah, their neighbours don’t like them very much, because char is Really Really Loud and easily satisfied

How kinky are they?

Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

that 8 is via the power of char and miles’ kinky tastes

dan is decidedly more vanilla but willing to try new things. and he’s got some latent kinks/fetishes hiding in him that these two bring out of him

i’ve gone into this many times but basically char is into being dominating, miles loves pain and as far as dan’s brain is concerned, Charlotte Is A Fetish

there’s more going on than that, but i’m being succint

How long do they normally last?

miles doesn’t last notably long, or notably short. but he seems like a real stayer in comparison to dan and charlotte. char comes quickly and repeatedly

dan, oh dan, he’s not. he’s not lasting long. this is not bad thing. he was worried about it at first but char is a-okay with this. she wuvs her boy. and besides, he has pretty good recovery. so second round if the first round was like a bit “oh”

dan is sensitive (and autistic!), sex is a Lot for him. anyways miles has defo joked about these two cumming at the drop of a hate. another reason the neighbours are annoyed, Please Go To Sleep Charlotte (nyet)

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms?

nobody here is unsatisified

How rough are they in bed? -

Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it

on this scale, i’m giving dan/char a 2 to 4, char/miles a 5 to 10 and dan/miles a 3 to 6. and all together oh... anything could happen

the general “rule” is Take It Easy On Dan, He’s Delicate

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do?

No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory

so much. so much cuddle snuggle uwuwuwuwu no no get back here miles you cannot escape, come back here and be loved

dan is a major cuddler, very tactile, char is pretty affectionate. miles used to be “meh” on affection but he’s warm to it these three cuddling in bed lives rent free in my head 24/7

Children:

How many children will they have naturally?

i’ve given dan and char 4 kids (three girls and a boy). penny, ada, marie and isaac. i’ve made charts about this

hypothetically, like in sims, i’ve given char and miles a daughter but i’m not commited to that idea, like i don’t have that in my Internal Canon

but he’s their papa too, emotionally <3

How many children will they adopt?

none, unless you count rats

Who gets stuck with the most diapers?

dan’s job requires the least Work, so he’s at home more often, so yeah

Who is the stricter parent?

char, but she’s not strict strict, this is just in comparison to daniel “but i can’t say mean things to my babies” faraday and miles “wanna learn how to shoplift?” straume. she’s not a Mean Nagging Mum stereotype tho, i won’t allow it

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school?

dan and char are Equally “you can’t be doing stuff like this, it’s not safe” whilst miles is lowkey encouraging it. but after a stern look he has to admit riding a scooter on the school roof is kinda fucked up. like miles is... miles but he doesn’t want his babies like actually hurt, he’s still a good dad

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)?

dan dan the photographic memory man

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings?

char, because i think that’d be really funny. and i want all of them to go to at least one meeting together, because they heard some bitch refer to their daughter marie as “that weird child” and that she warned her children to keep away from dan, char and miles kids. and also she refered to dan, char and miles as “deviants” cuz she feels kids shouldn’t have three parents

soooo char is going to publicly cut her down. verbally and viciously. dan and miles are also angery but they’re there to make sure char doesn’t actually physically beat this woman. and also this final caveat:

miles: [eating a sad looking muffin] and your muffins suck too

Who cried the most at graduation?

char but dan and miles are crying too

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law?

MILES IS A COP!!! and it’s never felt so good until the moment ada got busted for drinking at a party when she was only 17. oh miles isn’t that abusing your authority? “yeah but every cop does that, i may as well do it for my kid”

yeah, that crime is  the worst thing i could think of for this, i don’t think these people’s kids would do like actual bad crimes

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking?

you know, i tend to picture miles cooking the most. my typical default for imagining char and miles chatting is that they’re in the kitchen, she’s holding tea and he’s making something on the stove. typically mac & cheese. or bacon

but really i think they all cook a decent amount

Who is the most picky in their food choice?

dan because he’s autistic and has some medical requirements, like my esoteric headcanon that he cannot digest meat at all

Who does the grocery shopping?

char and miles are more used to it, whilst i imagine dan has barely set foot in a grocery store in his life. but upon, like, being a grown up, he starts going more with char and miles and he likes it, for the most part. the lights are a bitch, tho

i think dan does it the least, miles the most, and char and miles go together more often than not. oh, and when char is out of pads and she forgot to stock up, miles is the designated Get Me Pads And Painkillers You Bastard man

tho that trope always confused me, as somebody who has at least 5 packages of pads in my pad drawer at all times. are there really period having people who don’t stock up ahead of time and have to ask their significant other?

but i digress

How often do they bake desserts?

not notably often, but i’ve defo imagined miles making Special Brownies

which daniel proceeded to eat all of in a fit of I’m Suddenly Very Hungry

what’s that puddle over there? oh it’s just dan

but anyways thinking on this, i can see these three making a cake together. and it goes a little wonky because their kitchen is small and Too Many Cooks. but a flat chocolate cake is a cake nonetheless. monch

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater?

dan: salad, the other option is No Good, so my boy is a vegetarian

char: i’ve made her more a meat lover than a veggie lover (tis her love of a proper English Breakfast) but not overally so

miles: defo likes meat (and savoury things in general) over salad. he’s not one of those guys whose a dickhead about it tho. veggies are just alright to him

tho i can see miles teasing dan about his “rabbit food diet” (which isn’t even apt because rabbits aren’t in the habit of mainlining noodles and pasta)

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner?

aaahh this feels like something dan would do, he wants to be ~womantic~

Who is more likely to suggest going out?

char, the extroverted outdoorsy one

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking?

dan because he got distracted by something. like he was cooking something in the oven and then some Musical Thoughts overtake him and he’s gotta write it down and wait 30 minutes have past OH GOD THE PIE BEEP BEEP BEEP

Chores:

Who cleans the room?

The Room. the Singular Room

anyways they all clean, it’s not very interesting to think about

Who is really against chores?

none of them. miles will half-heartedly complain sometimes but he grew up used to helping out around the house

Who cleans up after the pets?

dan and char clean up after their rats and cat because they are responsible pet owners. and char will clean miles’ wounds because jean-luc is a bastard cat

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug?

what kind of idiot... No!

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over?

i can’t see this, like any of them getting stressed about that

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning?

miles’ dollar now

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths?

dan takes longer showers, char takes longer baths

Who takes the dog out for a walk?

no dog, only kitty. kitties don’t go for walks

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays?

ohh i imagine char decks the place out for christmas. she loves christmas because good family memories. and also she has knitted christmas jumpers for her boys (and cat). christmas and halloween is the only major holiday that they got ham for. and by they, i mean char and miles

dan is just happy to be here

char: you know miles, it’s january and that little bat is still hanging above the fireplace

miles: if you wanna take him down, you can

char: ...no, i just wanted to adknowledge him

dan: he’s part of the family

What are their goals for the relationship?

uh, love, sex and babies. duh

Who is most likely to sleep till noon?

miles. coffee keeps him on his work schedule

Who plays the most pranks?

well, miles, obviously. i can’t think of any because i don’t really go for pranks but nothing elaborate, simple stuff. does that “orders a black coffee at macdonalds when your kids are in the backseat” count as a prank. miles would do that, pause for enough time for the kids to be like :O and then ask for their orders

there! done! wowee, bless any y’all who take the time to read All Of That

[galadrieljones]

writer’s review

tagged by @ma-sulevin and @a-shakespearean-in-paris. thank you! i’ve never done this one before.

I will tag @thevikingwoman @shallow-gravy @littleblue-eyedbirdchirps @roguelioness @pikapeppa and anyone who’d like to do this. Please tag me if you do!!

Rules: Post two snippets of your writing. The first should be one of the oldest examples of your work that you can find (the older the better!), and the other has to be an excerpt from something more recent. Compare the two side by side to see the difference between what your writing looks like now and how it did then.

Since I have way too much old writing from my life, I am just going to stick with my fanfiction. I chose to compare an excerpt from my older Solavellan work The Dead Season (2016) to my current The Last of Us fic As You Were (2020). 

I put this under a cut, as it’s a little long!! 

From The Dead Season - Chapter 8: The Emprise du Lion

For the first three nights, they’d had to camp in a quarry surrounded by the dead lit veins of red lyrium. The lyrium glowed through the fire, illuminating the snow, keeping everyone awake, bandaged and bruised, all four of them piled into the Inquisitor’s tent where nobody wanted to be alone. Death was too nearby, they decided. Things were better together. Exhausted, hardened, dirty, cold to the bone. Drinking warm ale brought in by Scout Harding’s people, gnawing pieces of rabbit Sene had hunted herself and then cooked on a spit. Iron Bull tried entertaining with mad stories from his stranger youth. He and Solas played whole games of chess through the power of memory alone, and Sera braided Sene’s hair, and asked her all kinds of questions about her childhood and her love for the elven man. She told her about Dagna, that the two had started a quiet affair, and she had such stories of Red Jenny and her foreign life as an elf of the city. Sene listened eagerly, all the time, finding Solas with her eyes, and he would give a small touch. Security in a place of death and blood in the snow.

Despite Sene’s dreams, whenever they slept in the Emprise du Lion, Solas held her with serious possession. He slept deeply when he drifted, without stirring, and his arms hardened around her as stone. A carefulness and new severity imbued them, each movement guessed and exchanged as mind-reading. Somehow, it felt new. Sera noticed one morning, as Solas helped Sene into her jacket: “You do that like it’s all you’ve ever done,” she said to him.

“Perhaps it is,” said Solas. “Perhaps each night I help Sene out of her jacket, and then each morning, I help her back in again. Would that shock you?”

“The two of you,” said Sera. “Like green on sky. Eggs on toast.”

“Interesting perspective,” he said.

From As You Were - Chapter 6: La Crosse (Pt. 1) / The Lapp Farm (Pt. 1)

Joel and Noah drove until they hit what looked to be the town. They parked at an O’Reilly’s Auto Parts, hauled their backpacks onto their backs, and loaded their guns. The signs continued, most of them nailed to other kinds of signs: COTHS, they read. C.O.T.H.S.

C O T H S.

La Crosse had never been a big city. Joel didn’t know a lot, but he could gather as much. It wasn’t big, but it was a college town, and that college was big enough to have a football team. It would have been home to a lot of people during the initial Outbreak, probably forty or fifty thousand, and it was probably a metro-hub for these little Driftless, farming towns, too, with a good hospital, warehouses, factories, and some semblance of a retail industry. It would have been a lot of meth, he thought. Maybe not so much in the city proper, but in the outskirts, in the tin cans and the trailer parks. As a city on the banks of the Mississippi, it would have pretty pockets but mostly, it was just franchises and mini-malls, like anything else.

But this was strange, thought Joel. The goddam of it was, it seemed empty. Really empty. Like, god no longer smiled upon this place, as if something evil had given up on this place, gone on its way. There was nothing. Nothing bad, nothing good. Just the trees, and the nature noises, the grasses, which had grown so tall, they engulfed the cars abandoned at the side of the road. There was a McDonalds sign, growing out of a massive, twisted heap of vines and bramble and it made Joel think of small things that still broke his heart from childhood. He pushed it down.

“This is fucking weird,” said Noah. The air smelled ripe in some places. Rotten. Like an overgrowth of mold in the washing machine. “What the fuck is that smell?”

“Something bad happened here,” said Joel.

“Hey, look,” said Noah. He was headed toward another one of the signs. It said: COTHS.       

“Yep, another sign,” said Joel.

“No, look,” said Noah. He got closer. He had to snap a couple saplings to get to it. This sign was on the ground, leaning against a tree. He pushed back the tall grass, and the milkweed to reveal the rest.

Comparison: I settled on these excerpts because they are both descriptions of places and situations that are new to the characters involved. The biggest difference between my writing in 2016 and my writing now, as shown here, is that I have hugely simplified my prose and my approach to descriptive writing. Four years ago, I was still very flowery, and the dark, magical setting of Dragon Age only encouraged my dreamy, expansive sensibility. I used a lot of adjectives, figurative language, and fragments, and I tended to write big, sweeping descriptions of situations, rather than setting simple scenes. Tbh, I hadn’t really figured out scene-writing yet, at that point. It took me a while to realize how to make scenes do a lot of work in a short amount of time. Notice how I barely enter the scene in that first excerpt. It’s vague. It’s all happening at once. There is not really a specific scene being set in a specific setting at a specific time. I try to avoid that sort of thing now. While I don’t hate my old writing, and I think sometimes I do a nice job of hitting on the right atmosphere, my unwillingness to just enter the scene concretely is a little sophomoric and noncommittal here. Setting scenes is actually hard as hell. In doing this, I was avoiding the hard stuff without even realizing.

Now, I will say that while I am still improving, my writing has become much more concrete and to the point. I use figurative language, but I am much more judicious with my metaphors and similes. I prefer realism, it turns out. I want to describe true things, not ideas. Most of what I describe is there to build setting, whether it be through concrete description of place or a character’s actions in a place. Sometimes I will use my language to evoke a certain kind of atmosphere, but I try not to go overboard. I want my language to be practical, not tricky and overblown. I like strong, complete sentences (with the occasional fragment) and descriptions of specific actions and scenes in real time, rather than fragmented, dreamy language or a style that is overly stream-of-consciousness. I still use Free Indirect Style at times, and I will narrate thought, because I like going into my character’s heads, but I now practice much more stoicism. I do not let my readers know too much directly about what my characters are feeling. I find that this is much more true to what I want to evince with my writing. I now try to imply thought and emotion via what my characters do, what they don’t do, what they say, and what they see. Moving away from Solas, a very “talky” and intellectual character has helped me do this. While I love Solas, writing Joel and Arthur really improved me tenfold, as they tend to speak very little. They are not terribly ponderous in all they decide. They choose their words wisely and let their actions speak most of the time, helping me do the same.

In the past, my focus was almost always on language, ideas, and atmosphere. I wanted to evoke bigness at every turn. Drama, beauty, unfolding abstract ideas and feelings made of synesthesia, using my language to elevate simple feelings and ideas into something epic. But now, and maybe it’s just because I’m getting older or I have less time, idk, but I just want things to be what they are. I want to reveal feelings and themes, not evoke them through force. I want the scenes to speak for themselves. I let the reader do a little more work. I withhold much more. In fact, I rarely write interiority these days. Inner-monologue and emotions come sparingly. One sentence here and there. Never in rambling, abstract, unfurling paragraphs, which The Dead Season is full of. I am always reaching for economy now, and efficiency. It is better for me! Though I do play around still, from time to time, with my language. I will always be a little playful.

[belphegor1982]

All 50 for Jon/Tom :3

I LOVE YOU ♥

1. Who is the early bird/Who is the night owl?

Tommyis an early bird by necessity, but without an alarm clock he’ll beup by 8. Jonathan, OTOH, is absolutely a night owl who can and willsleep until noon if left unchecked. Also insomnia becomes a problemfor him as he gets older.

2.Who is the big spoon/ Who is the little spoon?

Theyswitch more or less randomly,but Jonathan loves when he’s the big spoon, because Tommy is sodamn soft.(they usually wake up wrapped around each other anyway.)

3.Who hogs the cover/ Who loves to cuddle?

Bothboys are big fans of cuddling – see above :o) Jonathan hogs thecovers. He’ll whine and say it’s because he’s used to the warmweather of Egypt; Tommy just grabs the covers right back.

4.Who wakes the other one up with kisses?

Tommy,but that’s because he usually wakes up before Jonathan.

5.Who usually has nightmares?

Jonathana little more often than Tommy. It gets worse as the years pass andbring experiences like WW1, Hamunaptra, and Ahm Shere.

6.Who would have really deep emotional thoughts at the middle of thenight/ Who would have them in the middle of the day?

Jonathanand Tommy, respectively. Jonathan’s way of dealing with deepemotional thoughts is to metaphorically put his fingers in his earsand go “I CAN’T HEAR YOU”; unfortunately they’re a lot lesseasy to ignore when it’s bloody o’clock in the morning and you’vebeen trying to sleep for two hours. When they hit Tommy, he’s morelikely to freeze and go really quiet until he’s dealt with them.

7.Who sweats the small stuff?

(tbhI didn’t really understand this question? I thought it wasabout little everyday chores but then maybe not?) Jonathan would liketo point out that what he tends to get anxious about isn’t small– like the consequences getting caught together would have, forexample. Not that Tommy isn’t anxious about that, but he has alittle too much on his hands with rightnow stuff – managinghis hours at the Turf Tavern andhis studies – to let himself worry about hypothetical stuff, especially since they’re being so cautious anyway.

8.Who sleeps in their underwear (or naked)/ Who sleeps in theirpyjamas?

Jonathanlikes his little comforts and likes to sleep in his pyjamas (unlesshe and Tommy engaged in specific activities that tend to leave a chaphappy and comfortable and closely pressed against his partner aftersaid activities – thenbugger pyjamas). In theirfirst year, when they sleep together it’s generally in Jonathan’sroom, because it’s on the ground floor, so Tommy usually sleepsthere naked or in his underwear; but the next year, when they’reflatmates, he starts wearingpyjamas, too. (Unless he and Jonathan just fall asleep wrapped aroundeach other. Then yeah,bugger pyjamas.)

9.Who makes the coffee (or tea)?

Idon’t know how widespread coffee was in 1910s England, but if itis, then it’s probably Tommy. Jonathan, OTOH, makes a rathersplendid tea (he learned from his mum).

10.Who likes sweet/ Who likes sour?

Jonathanhas a sweet tooth. Tommy will eat anything, but leans towards sweetwhen he can.

11.Who likes horror movies/ Who likes romance movies?

ModernAU? Neither likes either horror nor romance. They prefer thrillersand adventure.

12.Who is smol/ Who is tol?

Neither,they’re the same height, give or take an inch. Tommy is on theplump side while Jonathan is a toast rack, though. (That’s beforebasic training, which makes Jonathan’s shoulders fill out a bitand Tommy’s tummy just a little less soft. He still keeps lovehandles.)

13.Who is considered the scaredy cat?

Jonathan,although it’s less “scaredy cat” and more “utter lack ofchill”.

14.Who kills the spiders?

Both,especially once they move in together. They keep a monthlytally.

15.Who is scared of the dark?

“Scared”might be too strong a word for it, but Tommy is uncomfortable intotal darkness.

16.Who is scared of thunderstorms?

Jonathan.Since always. It got worse after WW1.

17.Who works/ Who stays at home?

They’reboth students (ancient history), butTommy works in a pub. Which means Jonathan spends a lotof his time in pubs (either to keep Tommy company or in another pub with him over a pint or two).

18.Who is a cat person/ Who is a dog person?

Jonathandespises cats, which Tommy finds hilarious because let’sface it, Jon is basicallya cat himself. Meanwhile, big dogs make Tommy nervous (he’s neverhad a dog) but he can’t really say he prefers cats.

19.Who loves to call the other one cute names?

Neither.Tommy calls Jonathan “Jon”, occasionally “mate”; Jonathancalls Tommy “Tommy” and the occasional “old chap”, and that’sit. It’s less about what they’re saying than the way they’resaying it anyway.

20.Who is dominant/ Who is submissive?

It’slike big spoon/little spoon: not really fixed. Their first time wasTommy inside Jonathan and it’s what happens 6 times out of 10.

21.Who has an obsession (over anything)?

Neither,really. Tommy is a fairly grounded person, and Jonathan a little tooeasily distracted to obsess over anything.

22.Who goes all out for Valentine’s Day?

Neither,even if they could be out without getting arrested.

23.Who asks who out on the first date?

Thatdepends on your idea of“first date”. It’s Jonathan who said “fancy a pint?” first,before they even became friends. Once they’re together they do theexact same things they did before as friends – play tourists inOxford, go see the occasional play, and of course, go to the pub.

24.Who is the talker/ Who is the listener?

Jonathantalks a lot, and Tommy – who works ina pub – is good atlistening. However, when Tommy talks, Jonathan willlisten.

25.Who wears the other one’s clothes?

Theydon’t really have the same body type (not even the same hat size),so they don’t, really, apartfrom stealingeach other’s clean cuffs occasionally.(modern AU Jonathan absolutely pilfersTommy’s sweaters.)

26.Who likes to eat healthy/ Who loves junk food?

Tommyis a little too practical to consider what’s healthy and whatisn’t; while he grew up poor, he didn’t reallygrow up hungry, but hestill has the reflex toeat what’s in front ofhim because it means someone’s been working hard (his mum orhimself)to put the food on thetable. Jonathan ispickier, but not about health, either. It’snot really an everyday concern in the early 20thcentury, anyway.

27.Who takes a long shower/ Who sings in the shower?

Jonathanloves long showers. Tommy either showers before him or with him, orgrumbles because Jon’s been using all the bloody hot water again.Neither really sings in the shower.

28.Who is the book worm?

Tommy.He loves books.

29.Who is the better cook?

Tommy,but only because Jonathan never had to cook for himself until theyshare a flat, while Tommy – a sailor’s wife’s son, and an onlychild – helped his mam in the kitchen from an early age.

30.Who likes long walks on the beach?

Beachesare hard to find in Oxford, but neither, really.

31.Who is more affectionate?

Theycan’t afford to show affection in public, and the fear of gettingcaught is so ingrained that they don’t really let themselves be asphysically affectionate asthey would like even when it’s just the two of them.But Jonathan loves to fall asleep snuggledagainst Tommy, and Tommy loves it when Jonathan sneaks an arm aroundhim while they read/study. It’s 50/50, really.

32.Who likes to have really long (deep) conversations?

Long/deepconversations are really, reallyrare and usually come after a pint or two too many. Bothboys are tooself-conscious to do otherwise.

33.Who would wear “not guilty” t-shirt/ Who would wear “sin”t-shirt?

Jonathanwould totally wear a “not guilty” t-shirt (not thatanybody would believe him). Tommy would enjoy the “sin” one,because he’s good at looking innocent (and Jon can be shady enoughto make anyone look innocuous in comparison).

34.Who would wear “if lost return to…” t-shirt/ Who would wear “Iam…” t-shirt?

Theywouldn’t.

35.Who goes overboard on the holidays?

Eh,neither.

36.Who is the social media addict?

ModernAU Jonathan has a Twitter he remembers once in a blue moon, and Tommykeeps a Tumblr mostly to reblog ancient Rome, Greece and Egyptthings. Neither can really be called an addict, though.

37.Height difference or age difference?

Neither,they’re the same height. Tommy is six months older than Jonathan.

38.Who likes to star gaze?

Tommy.You can see a lot more stars in Oxford than in the heart ofLiverpool. When they leavethe pub at closing time and he’s tipsy he’ll sometimes walk withhis head tipped back to really look at the night sky, knowing Jonwill catch him if he stumbles and falls. (Eventhough Jon’s usuallyjust as tipsy as he is and wouldn’t be of great help – walkingarm in arm with him still helps with his balance and it’s thethought that counts.)

39.Who buys cereal for the prize inside?

JONATHAN.And then if he finds theprize disappointing he’s not above buying another packet, whichannoys Tommy because it’s food and foodmust not go to waste.(modern AU, natch.)

40.Who is the fun parent/ Who is the responsible parent?

Imaginingthem as parents broke my brain? Jonathan Carnahan is not a parent inany shape or form. (but we all know who would be theIRresponsible parent.)

41.Who cries during sad movies?

(modernAU) Eh, neither does, really.

42.Who is the neat freak?

Neitheris a neat freak, but Jonathan is 1) kind of a slob (except whereclothes are concerned) and 2) completely unused to picking up afterhimself, so Tommy is neater by comparison.

43.Who wins the stuffed animals at the carnival for the other one?

Jonathanhas reallygood aim with a rifle.Tommy isn’t a fan ofstuffed animals, especially since their flat is small and wouldn’ttake much to feel cramped, but every now and then he likes to pointat a soft toy and say, “Bet you can’t get thatone.” Naturally, they end up walking away with it.

44.Who is active/ Who is lazy?

Jonathanis TheLaziest :P Tommy is much more active, if only by necessity (gettinghis degree is “do ordie” for him).

45.Who is more likely to get drunk?

BOTH.Together. (after life separates them it’s Jonathan, though.)

46.Who has the longer food order?

Jonathan,because he knows what/how to order and is completely comfortable withfancy restaurants while Tommy will instinctively look for thecheapest dishes even – especially – when he’s notfooting his own bill.

47.Who has the more complex coffee order?

Neither– they go for tea. Modern AU Tommy has a mild coffee addictionbecause there are not enough hours in the day for reading all thebooks and studying all the things AND working in a pub,but he takes his coffee simple, black as night with three sugars.

48.Who loses stuff?

Jonathan.Fortunately for every item he loses he finds another he hadpreviously misplaced. If Tommy loses something he’s sure it willresurface some time later, probably in a ridiculous place.

49.Who is the driver/ Who is the passenger?

Ihaven’t figured out yet how 1910s Tommy learns how to drive, but Ilike the idea of him driving pre-WW1; then he spent over two years inthe Army Service Corps (transport system – ammunition, food,equipment) and finished the war with a talent for driving in theworst conditions (and a horror of driving at all). Modern AU? It’s60/40 in Jonathan’s favour.

50.Who is the hopeless romantic?

Neither,really. Jonathan is a little too cynical and Tommy a little toopragmatic.

[nightblink]

Blink Reads Oathbringer - Chapters 107-111

More confirmation of emotional transfer/sensing via the Nahel bond, which I am all about, and then even more-

And also, shit’s starting to hit the fan.  (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

Chapter One-Hundred-and-Seven – The First Step

[squints] I don't think the Unmade can be 'returned to Damnation' like the Voidspren, but I could be wrong. No way she was destroyed at Aharietiam, though.

Not a flashback! We're getting more present!Dalinar! Gooood.

We haven't heard a whole lot about Gavilar and Dalinar's father – or what their life was at all like before they decided to go unite the princedoms into a kingdom. Their father getting into honor-duels all the time and getting a bad head injury from one of them could explain a little more of why young!Dalinar scoffed at dueling.

That dream with Nohadon in it is still suspicious, even if it turned out to be something possibly good for Dalinar to hear and ponder over. It was just too vivid, too pointed, for it to be Just A Dream. Maybe Cultivation had a hand in it…?

[growls at Taravangian's presence] The old king seems to be in a more compassionate state today, though not with a low enough intelligence as to appear doddering. Hmm.

AHHHH THE STORMFATHER SENSED KALADIN WHEN HE TOUCHED THE ORB-THING AT THE LIGHTHOUSE. Hah – is hope a new emotion for him? It's enough to give Dalinar some hope, at the very least (which he sorely needs).

Are there only two highprinces left in all of Jah Keved after the civil war – and these two even being new ones after former ones died? I'm betting they're Diagram, considering that Taravangian appointed them.

Queen Fen is not letting him go without an explanation and, to be fair, she's got a point, even if 'sulk' is a bit harsh.

[hums] Command of a language though Dalinar's Surges are temporary. It might last for a few hours, maybe longer if he starts practicing it more often, but we don't have any indication yet as to how long he can hold the Connection right now.

Fifteen thousand men in Jah Keved, and among them “some of their most loyal Kholin and Aladar troops.” I… hmm. Jah Keved isn't particularly stable still, but even so, that's a lot of troops to commit to one place, especially with how few you have left. And isn't the bulk of Sadeas' forces in Thaylen City right now to help rebuild? The place where Kaladin and Shallan and Adolin are heading? …I have a bad feeling about this.

Dalinar has a Bad Feeling about this too. That's not comforting.

[rolls happily at Dalinar acknowledging Navani's patience and support and thanking her for it] And that small touch of hands aaaaaaaaahhhh-

DALINAR HIDING A SMIRK AT JASNAH SNARKING AT IALAI, BLESS. That's absolutely professional behaviour right there, mmhmmm. 'Intelligence', pffFFFT

!!!! Talk about a sudden outburst, but damn that's a good flash of insight, and one that they desperately needed. Their lost Radiants are heading there, so it only makes sense story-wise, and now Dalinar's laying out military reasoning as well. Very good. I'm still wondering how exactly the Thaylen ships survived given how badly the city was smashed up; Queen Fen says that it was “as if the winds left them alone”, which infers that Odium – or perhaps an Unmade – has very direct control over the effects of the Everstorm.

Thank the Heralds that they're managing to (hopefully) scrape together at least some semblance of a navy, because they'll desperately need it.

“You are a good man, Dalinar Kholin. I did not expect that.” Um. Um. Coming from Taravangian, that sounds ominious.

!!! Dalinar's telling Kadash he's going to give his ardents to Taravangian? And Kadash is telling him to stuff it? He's got a point about serving the Kholin people even if the Highprince Kholin has been excommunicated, though. The waiting people that Dalinar just passed in the hallway are an easy example to point to right off the bat. The ardents are not going to accept what he's saying anytime soon, but those that already serve him aren't abandoning him entirely.

Ooooo. Oooooo. Are we going to meet Ba-Ado-Mishram via a vision?

[hisses at Taravangian]

Dalinar recovering from his PTSD-triggered psuedo-catatonic state wasn't good for the Diagram That makes me even more worried than before.

“Moelach seems to have settled in the Horneater Peaks.” Um. You're tracking the Unmade who gives Death Rattles. Y'know, tracking one of the Unmade seems like it would be awesome information to share with the people who are trying to stop the end of the world. Just so you know. Because you're all just a collective bag of dicks with half the usefulness, if that.

Kill or recruit Dalinar? Really. That was your plan. [LAUGHS IN YOUR FACES]

[blinks] Did they. Did Taravangian and the Diagram team force a Nahel bond in order to get a Radiant on their side? Because the term 'project' certainly makes it sound like they did.

Division burns, or turns things to dust; that much we pretty much knew already. It's the specific Dustbringer combinations of their Surges that we're still entirely unsure of, and Division and Friction together? Yeaaaaahhhhh… Also, Note: Dustbringerspren are called Ashspren, and there are definitely a bunch of them and other spren that are pissed about the Recreance (and not without reason).

Hmmm. So. Both Spark and Malata are definitely into the whole breaking things aspect of their bond. Was that common amongst Dustbringers of the past?

Are you the one leaking information to Odium's forces, then? (Did Shallan not reveal that she's actually a Lightweaver to Malata? It's been a while, so I can't remember.)

Fuck off, Taravangian, you and your whole crew.

Chapter One-Hundred-and-Eight – Honor's Path

Another sketch-page before the chapter! The little scribble in the upper right hand corner must be the drawing – or the same type of drawing – that Kaladin noticed when he last glanced at Shallan's sketchbook. I'm glad for the visualizations of glorsyspren, though, they're actually quite cute. The anticipationspren and whatever those others are…. They're less cute.

Another Unmade mention: Chemoarish, the Dustmother. Any connection to the Dustbringers, I wonder?

Ahh, 'Honor's Path' is the name of the honorspren ship! Fitting, to be sure. !!!! But the humans spent a week locked in the hold down below? Oh fuuuuck, that could not have been good for either Kaladin, with his history of being imprisoned and aversion to enclosed spaces with no open areas in general, or for Adolin, who'd probably been swinging between bouts of extreme energy and lethargy if he really is ADHD like I suspect/headcanon. They're still not letting Syl out though – too important to risk her getting away, I imagine.

Note: 'Unyielding Fidelity' = honorspren stronghold near Kharbranth (though in the CR)

Of course Kaladin argued with the honorspren and got tossed in the hold again – probably trying to get Syl free, considering. I doubt that honorspren do well in captivity either, and he definitely believes that.

Kaladin is in full single-track-mind mode right now – a desperation that lends him certainty, which Shallan is seeing here as authority, but. Mmmmmmm. It's both, I think. The drive that desperation gives him lends itself to an authoritative manner, but it's apparent just how fragile it is – he's bolting towards a destination rather than actually leading with authority.

There's a loooooot of ifs in Kaladin's plan, and I'm pretty sure at least one of them is going to come into play and fuck things up, or it wouldn't be a Sanderson Avalanche.

Shallan mistaking Kaladin's drive for passion is making me twitch.

Oh shit. Looks like Shallan's fractured sub-personalities are starting to leak out again. It looked like she was almost stabilizing a little, but what small measure of healing she might have processed with talking to Wit can only do so much.

[buries hands in face] The part of Shallan that's subsumed into Veil that sees Kaladin as a 'wild spren of passion, trapped by oaths and codes' – I just. How can you misinterpret someone that badly. It's like I'm watching comedy with secondhand embarrassment; it's that painful to see. He's driven, yes, he's determined, most certainly, but it feels like she's overlaying it with this over-romanticised rose-glasses view that's skewing everything off-kilter and making it very uncomfortable to read.

I'm definitely judging the little corner of her mind that's adding to Veil for liking the scruffy, unkempt beard on him, though. Ugh.

Finding a bead to use would require Shallan getting down to the level of the beads to find an appropriate one, and I don't think the honorspren will be as indulgent in your desires to look overboard as the Thaylen sailors were.

The mistspren or whatever they are sound really cool, ngl. Porcelain masks on bodies made of mist!

Huh. Her asking to practice with the beads… actually worked? Sort of? And the honorspren – or at least a faction of them – are some of those who were definitely not hoping for the Radiants' return. Considering that Aharietiam probably involved the mass breaking of oaths, I can certainly see why.

No guarantees on not breaking your ship, buddy.

I wonder if with all of this practice, she could convince a stick to become fire…? Heheheheheh-

Kaladin is not doing well with being forced to wait in this relatively-enclosed area, no matter if he'd be waiting anyway from the sheer fact that they have to travel. They do need to get back, though, and each day away is one more that the people in Urithiru have no idea about what happened in Kholinar. On top of that, Shallan and Kaladin are Radiants – they're absolutely necessary in this Desolation, more than any of the others of Strike Team Kholinar that haven't returned yet. How long until the Voidspren forces in Shadesmar catch up with them?

!!! Is Vivenna's Blade sentient. And it thinks of itself as a 'she'! Is it an Awakened blade?

Admittedly, Vivenna's right that she has no stake in this fight – so far as she knows. If they fail and Odium is released to ravage the Cosmere, that's an entirely different story, but she doesn't know that, not really. And so, she follows her own motivations, not the overall party's. Kaladin must not have heard or picked up on the hints/outright statements that she's not only not Alethi but not from this world, though, because that softly breathed 'Traitor.' says that he still thinks of her as such.

“I've seen a lot of young hotheads in my time, and young Stormblessed feels like another color altogether.” Because lbr, he's not so much a 'hothead' as a bundle of poorly-contained emotion. Determined, passionate – in a way other than what the part of Shallan that lends itself to Veil sees – and devoted, but prone to outbursts and needing direction to keep from slipping. Kaladin's feeling different here partly because he's amongst equals of a sort – he doesn't have a group of people that he can take under his wing and watch over as their leader, only people who might-be?friends who are alongside him as he rushes towards his goal of trying to protect the person he promised to do so for.

OH. You're not chasing Vasher, you're chasing Nightblood. Well. And Vasher, but he's secondary on your list. [back in Urithiru, an ardent's suddenly aware that someone's talking about him...]

[hums] Is Shallan slipping back into a relatively-unhealthier state of mind? All these 'wrong' sketches seem like they might suggest he's headed back in that direction, but she's still far more in control of herself and aware than she was before. It still feels like she's a smidge healthier than she was before her talk with Wit, all the stress of Shadesmar nonwithstanding. Although this talk of making a new mask since she came across shortcomings that made her recognize the illusion of Veil… (not that she calls it that, she calls Veil broken instead, even though what's really 'broken' is Shallan's ability to see her Veil-persona as flawlessly competent as she had before, and therefore a suitable mask to hide behind)

“I just have to recover… her...” !!! Are you… are you outright admitting about your splitting personality-masks to someone other than Wit? That's… hell, this conversation is a huge step of trust, Shallan. “Shallan's broken, so I think I'm trying to hide her. … I'm not doing it on purpose, but it's happening, and I don't know how to stop it.” Okay, telling someone else is a huge measure of trust and an enormous step forward in possible recovery, but even more so, she's admitting it to herself as well, in a way that she can't alter lie away because it's being witnessed by another person. That's an even bigger step forward, especially since acknowledgment has been one of the things she's been most reluctant to do throughout the entire series thus far. It's always 'hide it away, pretend it doesn't exist', even when she was little, which isn't healthy at all, and has led to the splitting personalities to deal with all the things that she doesn't want to face herself.

[hums] Is this the first time that someone's offered silent acknowledgment of her pain, rather than suggesting what she should do to deal with it? I mean, it makes sense that Adolin's doing what he can to support her even when-

Wait. Did he just. Um. Um. I… well. I did not expect that revelation to happen like that.

“It was me. I'm the one the spren copied the first time. I kept thinking about how I was lying to you, to Father, and to everyone. The honorable Adolin Kholin, the consummate duelist. A murderer. And Shallan, I… I don't think I'm sorry.” I figured he didn't regret it. He's not the kind to regret something like stabbing that snake of a man for the sake of his loved ones and his people. He may regret the consequences that come if anyone finds out about it, though. That lying, though – how much does that weigh on him? Without any POV sections for Adolin in most of the early and mid-book chapters, we haven't seen much of him facing and upholding his lie.

omg Shallan. “Good for you.” HE WAS NOT EXPECTING THAT. And she's not going to tell Dalinar either. For now, it's a secret between the two of them (which could be bad later, if he does get, say, caught in a trap by Ialai and accused, and Shallan now knows the incriminating fact)

I do like that he's offering support via a measure of understanding, (see some of my previous Shallan/Adolin writings because hooooo I've gone over both of their tendency to use situational masks already) acknowledging her problem while still admitting that a) it's a problem and b) he doesn't have an answer for it, but could she share one if she finds any? It's very much unlike Kaladin's earlier and rather wince-worthy response of 'you can just. repress your emotions? That's AWESOME.”

“You never did say which one you prefer.” “It's obvious. I prefer the real you.” “Which one is that, though?” “She's the one I'm talking to right now. You don't have to hide, Shallan. You don't have to push it down. Maybe the vase is cracked, but that only means it can show what's inside. And I like what's inside.” Sanderson, beyond my personal pairing preferences in general and even in specific, these two had better be endgame with how well they interact/you're setting them up. They're actually good for each other.

'What was this peace? This place without fear?' asfhjakldlfghlagfhdgdgfhdgfksbjdbjdbf

Kaladin did you fly up to the deck that you're not supposed to be on. I'll bet you did.

You did. [CACKLES]

He's right to worry about any Fused/Voidspren following them or laying traps ahead of them, as I still have a Very Bad Feeling about this. Oh man but he can sense Syl's anxiety! EMOTIONAL TRANSFER VIA THE NAHEL BOND ONCE MORE COMFIRMED.

'Of all the spren they'd interacted with on this side, honorspren seemed to share the most human mannerisms.' Oh, interesting; I wonder why that is? Were honorspren nonexistent on Roshar before humans?

“It's not like we eloped.” “It is worse, as the Nahel bond is far more intimate a relationship – the linking of spirits.” He's got you there, Kaladin. Did you really think that that was going to work when you two are bonded?

Why am I cackling so hard over Captain Notum being completely thrown by Kaladin's nonchalant agnosticism/atheism.

Also:“You… actually understand this?” “Understand, no. Follow, mostly.” PFFFFFFFT. That's  about how the rest of us who are only lightly versed in Realmatics feel about this whole schtick too, Kal. It's complicated and we don't even have all the pieces.

Ooooooo, shit – all the honorspren from before the Recreance save Syl are dead, and all the others now are the ten made by the Stormfather and their descendants? I think the fact that all of the old honorspren dies might have been been insinuated before, but it's the first time it's been outright stated. No wonder the Stormfather is particularly attached to Syl and the other honorspren are so bent on bringing her back.

The thought that Syl herself might not be ready for a bond – that the spren themselves can be just as unprepared as humans when going into this – isn't something I'd really considered before. That means that the spren can make mistakes – perhaps even big ones – in choosing to bond.

“But your bond is dangerous, without Honor. There will not be enough checks upon your power – you risk disaster.” Hmmm. Does he mean the Surges when he says 'your power'? Other than the Oaths, what checks/bindings did Honor put on his Invested?

“Not too late. Killing you would free her – though it would be painful for her. There are other ways, at least until the Final Ideal is sworn.” …….judging by the fact that the final Skybreaker Oath is basically 'becoming the law', and now this honorspren all but says that the bond between spren and human cannot be broken once the Fifth and Final Ideal is sworn, I'd bet a handful of emeralds that that means that the spren and human halves of a Radiant pair become almost merged somehow, unable to be separated by any means.

Heh – since appealing to logic isn't getting him anywhere, it's time for Kaladin to play by his strengths and bring out the emotional side of his argument. And… okay, doesn't look like that's getting him anywhere either. Damn.

The Ideals are overwhelming when you take even a moment to sit down and think of them, and it's no wonder that many spren don't see the humans as being able to keep to the oaths they swear. There's very valid points here though: all of those in the world that cannot protect themselves is an impossible order for one person; what is right, and how is one supposed to judge who is in the right? Much like the Skybreakers and what is justice?

Huh. Interesting that windspren exist almost solely on the Physical Plane. His debating the Ideals somehow manifested them in the CR despite their rarity – Windrunner and windspren, that's a no-brainer – but why would windspren not only be drawn to him while he debates his oaths, even bolstering his bond with Syl to the point of telepathy?

Also, just. HOT DAMN, TELEPATHY VIA THE NAHEL BOND NOW TOO, not just for Dalinar and the Stormfather alone anymore!

Which, speaking of, looks like Notun wasn't of the understanding that the Stormfather is bonded again as well. Heheheheheheheheh

I am highly amused by Adolin coming up out of the hold to this sight of Kaladin on deck and his admiring description that follows, though really, same. The fond addition of 'the storming bridgeman' right before he thinks of how heroic Kaladin looks deeeeeefinintely feels like a 'storming damnation how is he so handsome'. Also, with those windspren glowing points? Canon shoujo-sparkle!Kaladin Stormblessed confirmed,

And it looks like Shallan agrees – which again, same, can we all please love and appreciate Kaladin – but her body language as she does so, in what's probably the Veil part of her slipping out in appreciation… [winces] Adolin already has some serious self-doubt/self-worth issues about their relationship, as we saw not only back in Kholinar but all the way back in Urithiru as well; this definitely isn't going to help in that regard.

He's not laying fault on either Kaladin or Shallan, though, thank you Sanderson for Very Much Not going a jealous route there or I may have had to murder you.

Ooooop, and there we go, the Fused finally caught up to them. Fleeing probably isn't even close to an option here, so it's time to stand and fight. Problem is, there's eight flying Fused, one Windrunner, and no Shardblades. This could turn very bad very quickly.

Chapter One-Hundred-and-Nine – Neshua Kadal

Ahhhhhahahahahahahah oh, Re-Shephir was very much Not Destroyed – though she was caught, which could perhaps also be the case for Ba-Ado-Mishram, perhaps, since they were both 'thought destroyed' at Aharietiam?

I wondered if they were going to try infusing that massive column of gemstone and try to power Urithiru again, but apparently they've tried and it's just not working so far.

That armguard is a watch and serious ibuprofin all in one. Navani needs to start marketing those.

'He raised his chis as the storm slammed into Urithiru, roughly at the height of its third tier.' Okay, so the lower levels of Urithiru get stormlight and rain and crem; it's the upper levels that the storms can't reach – or so far as we know.

Oooop, time is short, go go go before Odium finds you-!

Haaaaaah, Venli recognises him, or at least his description. Good, then they can get straight to the point without too much dithering. [winces] And she has every right to tear into him for the genocide he and his visited upon her people.

'Though he was not short for a human, her current form was a good six inches taller than he was.' Venli's in… storm-form, or scholar-form? Something else? Either way, that height would put her at at least seven-foot-one, maybe even taller, headcanon-wise.

“Don't you understand? The people who live there – the singers, my cousins – are from Alethkar. That is their homeland too. The only difference between them and you is that they were born as slaves, and you as their master!” I'm applauding Venli as she rips into Dalinar tbh. [cups hands and yells] YOU STILL HAVE SLAVERY. AND ALSO YOU HAVE MASSIVE SOCIAL INEQUALITY B/C OF YOUR HIGHLY STRATIFIED, RACIST CLASS SYSTEM. AND THE PARSHMEN YOU CONSIDERED PRACTICALLY ANIMALS AND BELOW EVEN THAT.

Ohhh, shit, that cracking – that's probably the Stormfather trying to shield them, and Odium just powers right on through, blasting the vision-world to smithereens in the process, with them in it. That must be utterly, bone-shakingly terrifying to experience.

Note: Neshua Kadal. Radiant Knight. 'The listeners remembered this as a song sung to the Rhythm of Awe. Neshua Kadal.'

!!! Dalinar's got stormlight, and is somehow using it to resist Odium's pull on the vision-world around him? But only so much, only the immediate area that his light can spread, and the rest still crumbles around him.

Without Odium's influence pulling at her via the Voidspren in her heart, Venli can think more clearly. And! Timbre followed her even into the vision! She can do that? Are they almost-bonded?

(okay, so she's not in stormform, but still a Voidspren-form, though more delicate than stormform)

YOU WENT AFTER HER YOU SAVED TIMBRE FROM BEING PULLED INTO THE DESTRUCTION AT THE RISK OF YOURSELF BEING PULLED IN TOO, AHHHHH- 'Great. Now we can fall together.' Sarcastic, but aaaaaahhhhhhh, VENLI

!!!! Dalinar jumping in to catch her! And that 'Something flashed around his arm. Lines of light, a framework that covered his body. His fingers didn't bleed as they scraped the stone.' PROTO-SHARDPLATE, PROTO-SHARDPLATE

[winces] And now with Venli back safe in the waking world, Dalinar gets to experience Odium's torture.

FUCK OFF, ODI-DUMB. AND YOU DO NOT GET TO CALL HIM SON. SCRAM. SHOO.

Don't trust a single word he says, Dalinar. You don't have to be a force of destruction.

And on his return, he hears through the bond as the Stormfather itself, greatest of spren, weeps in pain and broken fear, 'whispering that Odium was too strong'.

A price paid indeed.

Chapter One-Hundred-and-Ten – A Million Stars

Hessi's book calls the Midnight Mother's creations 'monsters of shadow and oil', though as we've seen they tend to favor the shadow side, with an oily movement and, if I'm remembering right, slight iridescence.

With as little stormlight as they have, they can't afford to have Kaladin fly all four of them – or even just three, if Azure didn't come with them – to the closest land mass, or they wouldn't have any light left to work the Oathgate, if they can even manage to do so.

Syl has not done well in her extended captivity, although now I want to draw Kaladin and Syl leaning on and supporting each other as she stumbles out from the doorway and he steadies her with shaking hands of his own.

HEHEHEHEH. Watch out Vasher, Vivenna's here and she's hunting you down! And now Adolin and Kaladin know that she and Zahel know each other. U CANNOT ESCAPE

Shitfuckdamn they're jumping in to the sea of glass-

It's a damn good thing that Shallan managed to not only find a bead that could work to hold out the other beads, but that she somehow managed to either test it or get information from the honorspren or Pattern to know that it would work like that in the first place.

Okay, at least spren don't need to breathe, that's good to know.

Shallan: ...I'm holding both their hands right now #livingthedream

A forest of glass plants? Oooooo~ Do they react like 'normal' Rosharan plants and curl away or clam up at vibrations and/or contact? They sounds beautiful. - 'The trunks were translucent; the leaves looked like they were blown from glass in a multitude of colors. Moss drooped from one branch, like melted green glass, strands hanging down in silky lines.'

Another highstorm. This is probably the same one that Dalinar used in the last chapter to send a vision to Venli, and Odium broke in. Ooo, the other storm that Syl senses might be the Everstorm approaching.

Okay. Short flight inland to gain some distance without (hopefully) using up too much of their stormlight, then several days' walk to get to the Oathgate. They're so close. So close. Something's going to go wrong when they get there; everything's starting to ramp up in energy and in stakes. Besides, what's a Sanderson book without the fear of Major Suffering during the Avalanche?

Chapter One-Hundred-and-Eleven – Elia Stele

'Lore is confident there were nine, an unholy number, asymmetrical and often associated with the enemy.' So who's the ninth Unmade. What're their powers. Kinda need to know that.

'Dalinar stepped out of the Oathgate control building into Thaylen City and was met by the man he most wanted to punch in all Roshar.' Fucking bless. The entirety of the Kholins finally being solidly on Kaladin's (and Jasnah's) side in this and viciously wanting to either verbally flay or physically maim Amaram on sight is so satisfying.

God fucking damn it, Amaram. You have a point about the Sadeas soldiers assuming that they've been essentially assigned Punishment Duty (which is basically what it is in standard Alethi estimation, as they're rebuilding instead of actively engaging an enemy or sent to wait in defense for a possible attack), but you're tossing fuel on the fire by thinking of the Thaylens as 'our enemies', and as acting-highprince now, that is going to leak down to your soldiers as well. Friction between allies is the last thing all of you need for the survival of Roshar right now.

It's amazing how Bridge Four can just pop in and lighten the mood like they do, with their vibrant personalities and their humor and their sense of loyalty, of right and wrong, so different from the broken bridgemen that littered Sadeas' camp back in TWoK. They've come so far.

Queen Fen's son has gone from his outright distrust to practically outright hero-worship in regard to Dalinar and it's hilarious.

“More bankers. The quiet economic collapse of Roshar continues.” Um. If they're all making their way back to Thaylenah along with their gemstones, and we-the-readers as well as the alliance are expecting an attack on Thaylen City… ahh, but this could be Very Not Good if Odium's forces start making off with their way of storing light – essential to the Radiants' Surgebinding.

???? 'Rin? Renarin? What do you need the large stone(s) for? Do you have a plan?? Capturing the Unmade like Re-Shephir once was, maybe?

!!!!!!!! Dalinar's met Cultivation! And she's not the Nightwatcher! WHO IS SHE AND WHERE AND WHEN DID THEY MEET. And there's another one – a Splinter-spren greater than the rest, one that sleeps now and that humans have hurt before. Where, and who, Stormfather.

[hums] Your job of Uniting Them is far, far from done, Dalinar…

“Odium lies when he claims to have sole ownership of passion.” THANK YOU. That's definitely something that Dalinar needed to hear from an outside source, not just him trying to convince himself of the fact.

“It is not a day to be heartless.” FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCK, HOW BAD IS TARAVANGIAN TODAY AND WHY DO I FEEL LIKE IT SPELLS DISASTER. SHITFUCKBALLS

Oh noooo, Dalinar's actually interested in and excited to be at the meeting and I have this looming feeling of dread that everything is just about to be upended into the fan...

(despite that looming dread I do love the detail of Fen's son chatting with Renarin; plz let him have more friends, all the friends)

…..it's not the Stormfather whispering in the back of Dalinar's mind, despite their Nahel bond having grown even closer, and the Stormfather can't hear it either. Bad Feeling Intensifies.

Renarin's getting the Bad Feeling too, isn't he. Fffffffftttt-

“Something… something is coming. A storm.”

Uh oh.

A storm indeed. Odium's sent it early, and with more power behind it – a supernatural assault to speed his armies on their way and to give them lightning strikes as near-artillery? That can't just be it, not when last book's Avalanche hinged around the Everstorm as well...

...what did Jasnah and Navani just discover.

Oh.

Shit.

Okay, so. Unpacking – those first called Voidbringers were humans, called such by the native Parshendi/Singers/Listeners- Dawnsingers. “They destroyed their lands and have come to us begging.” Well, that negates my theory that Rosharan-variant humans were scratch-created based on the Yolen model, but I'm still of the mind that they at least got a serious DNA-manipulation (probably via Cultivation) in order to not only survive on Roshar but to be able to have children with the Parshendi, considering that there's several (maybe all, save for the Shin?) Rosharan-variant human races that have Listener(Dawnsinger?) blood.

But which world did those original humans come from? And how did they use Surgebinding to destroy an entire world? And how did that truth in turn destroy the Radiants – was it the realization that they, and their predecessors before them, had been the Voidbringers to these people, the invaders and bringers of death and destruction? Or was it something else?

Oh for- and of course, now Taravangian has to speak up, and with… news about…

This is what you had your informants spreading that would destroy Dalinar and all that he's been working for, you poxed slug. This is the point where you sweep Dalinar's feet out from under him and there's nothing he can do about it.

[kati-mariposa]

Guardians: Chapter 3

Characters: OC, Bill Skarsgard & Jeffrey Dean Morgan

*WARNING: Mild Language

Summary: Can be found in Chapter 1

[*DISCLAIMER: The actors do not represent themselves as actors, but as the characters I created to play out in the story.]

-Chapter 4

Only minutes away from midnight, I cautiously turned the doorknob and opened it, scanning the dark hall for anything or anyone lively out there. When the coast seemed clear, I quietly stepped out and closed the door behind me, still being slow and patient as I finally shut it. Holding a couple of bags full of things in my hands, I took literal baby steps down the hall without swinging them, worrying with each step that I would stir up Jeffrey in his room. The bags made me feel heavier so I had to worry if I dropped one or hit it against something along the way.

As I was inches away from the front door, I thought I heard faint footsteps back in the kitchen area.

“Where are you heading off to at this hour?” a familiar deep voice spoke from behind.

I didn’t even get the chance to reach for the doorknob and he already caught me in the act trying to leave. I inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly and warily turned around to face the defeated looking Jeffrey. He leaned against the walkway frame of the kitchen, shirtless and in his pajama pants. Out of my habitual and instinctual behavior, I examined his upper body and secretly admired his form. It might seem wrong, but he had a nice body for someone who’s like 50. However, my admiration was cut short and I scrolled my eyes up to his glossy ones. I needed to concentrate on the issue.

“What are you doing up this late? I’m surprised,” I wondered, a bit uneasy since I’ve been put on the spot.

“Can’t sleep. Too much on my mind,” his eyes wander for a second, then are fixated back to me, “Seriously, where are you off to?”

“I going to someone else’s place for the night,” I answered, almost stuttering.

“Who’s?” he asked with a small hint of a growl in his tone.

“Don’t worry about it. Just know I’ll be fine anywhere but here,” it pained me to say as I slightly turned my body to the side.

“Wait, please,” he begged shifting from the frame.

“I can’t Jeffrey,” I completely turned around to avoid his eyes. Tears began to well up in my eyes and I pursed my lips holding in my emotions.

The darkness of the living room kept my face in the shadows so it wouldn’t show, but the light from the kitchen beamed on my back side. If I turned back, he’ll see my teary eyes, my vulnerability. My heart was beginning to ache again from this situation. I couldn’t control my sobs from being heard by him.

“Kat,” he said softly.

I sensed that he was slowly walking towards me, but I didn’t check on it. I kept my face away and gripped the handles of the bags tight, staring hard at the dark floor. I jolted when I felt a pair of hands grasp both sides of my arms.

“Sweetheart, look at me. Please,” he pleaded, sounding a little down.

“No,” I refused.

“Please. I need to say something,” he said above my head.

I wasn’t going to let me go that easily, I knew that for certain. Plus, my heart was telling me to see his reasoning this time, so I attempted to suck it up and carefully twisted around to peer up at his weary hazel eyes. Those orbs examined my face thoroughly and his lips formed a frown. He seemed very crushed by my expression.

“Okay, what? What do you gotta say?” I asked him with sniffles, frowning myself.

“Darling. It’s just,” he paused to cup my face in his hands, “I’m so sorry. I was a little stressed from work and I realize now that I sort of went overboard.”

I wiggled myself from his grasp.

“Sort of? You went WAY overboard, like always recently! You implied the only reason Bill wants to stay around is so he can have sex with me, then drop me like a fly! I don’t know what’s the matter with you. You used to like Bill when we were starting out as friends but out of the blue, you seem to resent him,” I went on in an angry rant. I basically took charge and gave him a piece of my mind, “And the worst part, is that you won’t tell me why. Why damnit?!”

“I’m worried,” he responded solemnly.

His answer baffled me. Worried? What could he be worried about? I raised my hands after dropping the bags, waving in a questionable gesture.

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“I can’t explain it. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Jeffrey. What would I not understand? That you’re too paternalistic? Intimidating? Young guys are rebellious? What?” The confusion got to me. I could only imagine what he meant by that.

He stayed silent, his eyes locked on to mine the majority of the time, but then it looked like he was glancing at other parts of my face, mainly the lower part. Ignoring his strange gestures, I picked the bags up again and faced the door, ready to exit the moment I was free.

“You know what, I don’t wanna hear it. I’m leaving to spend the night somewhere else and there’s nothing you can say or do to convince me otherwise. I’m done,” I dismissed him as I opened the first door revealing the screen door. The porch light was on and I could see my little red hatchback car waiting in the dark in the driveway.

“Do you love him?” he asked again the question from earlier that bothered me. Not because it was bad, but the way he said it once left a bad imprint in my memory. I took a deep breath and looked at him one more time.

“You’re asking me again? I’ve said it once already.”

“I want to hear you say it again, and truthfully. Do you love Bill?”

I found that odd, “I love him as a great friend.”

“You know what I meant. Are you in love with him?”

I stood still as hard as I could to keep my composure, “No. I’m not,” I lied through my teeth with a straight face as I opened the screen door and walked out with all of my originally gathered belongings.

I dug through my purse to grab my car keys and I unlocked the hatchback door to put up my big bags in the trunk. After that, I got into the driver’s seat, turned the car on, locked the doors and sat there for a moment as I warmed up the vehicle.

“Jesus,” I said to myself.

I pulled out my phone and dialed a number to call. I waited with the phone in my hand over my ear as it rang, but no one answered.

“Shit,” I slurred before deciding to shift the gear into drive and take off to where I had in mind.

I pulled up into the parking lot of an apartment complex about four blocks away from mine and Jeffrey’s house, at least I think it’s far enough. I got out of the car, threw on my purse and went to the hatchback to get my other bags. At the same time, I was aware of my surroundings, making sure no one was suspiciously plotting to get me. You never can tell who would think up such dangerous actions. That or I simply had major paranoia whenever I traveled alone.

Once I shut the doors closed, I clicked the button to lock the car and headed for the apartment unit I knew they lived in. I basically sped walked to the spot because the nighttime sounds gave me the creeps. I wanted to hurry through the paths and be where I needed to be.

I managed safely to go to the first floor apartment number 515, set down one of the bags and knocked on the door hard enough to be hopefully heard. I waited for a response, out in the cold where my hands began to stiffen from exposure and I had forgotten to bring a jacket because I desperately wanted to get away without being aware of the weather that night.

I knocked again a bit harder, thinking it’d do the trick. As I parted my lips, my breath became visible against the frosty air. Finally, the door swung open and there he stood, shirtless, messy brown hair, vivid green eyes and such a tired expression.

“K-Kat?” his sleepy smooth voice moaned.

“Hey Bill. I’m so sorry, I called you but I guess you slept through it. Anyway, can I come in? It’s freakin’ cold out here,” I explained to him as my teeth chattered.

“Shit, come in,” he said like this was a routine. I guess he knew the drill by now.

Rubbing his heavy eyes, he stepped back to allow space for me to enter. I grabbed my bag off the ground and walked past him inside his apartment, entering the living room area where I momentarily set my things. I felt the warm temperature of the room begin to thaw my body out, which was great, but standing there staring at the beige carpet only allowed the memories from earlier crawl right back in my mind.

“Okay, what happened?” he asked closing and the locking the door.

I wasn’t sure if I should talk about it this time with Bill. The argument became more heated and inappropriate. I remembered thinking I didn’t want him to know about the specifics, but in the end, I ran to him for support and comfort. Maybe I did owe him an explanation and be honest. Sadly, it would be difficult to look him in the eyes, having Jeffrey’s words about him ringing in my ear repeatedly and not cry about it.

“Kat? Are you alright? And why didn’t bring a jacket? It was freezing out there, I’m surprised you didn’t get frostbite from Jack Frost,” his sad attempt to humor me didn’t lighten my mood one bit, but I made the effort to let out a fake chuckle.

“I had no idea,” I said lowly, still refusing to meet eye to eye.

“What do you mean? Your arms are exposed,” he pointed out.

I must’ve been so blinded by my emotions because I also forgot I was wearing a sleeveless shirt out of the house, but I suppose being worked up distracted me from the cold until I started to relax.

“Oh, well,” I struggled to find the words as I rubbed my arms up and down, warming them up.

“Why aren’t you looking at me? Kaaaaaat?” he carried my name in a suspicious tone.

Of course my eyes were wandering around me, but I barely moved my body. I could tell he was getting more curious, but what did I expect? Not being direct had to be frustrating.

“I-It’s nothing,” I stuttered.

“This doesn’t seem like nothing. What’s the matter?” he requested an honest answer.

I remained silent, fighting back the water works that were forming.

“You wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t something wrong,” he added.

“Can’t I just come to see you whenever, like usual? Is that too much to ask for?” my sobbing began as I wiped my eyes.

It was then I felt a presence towering over me, his warm bare skin pressed against my body from behind. His arms gently wrapped around me as I raised my head to stare at the wall. My cheeks and upper arms were warming up from his touch. Then I finally looked up at his head, his glistening green eyes gazing down at me with such gloominess, it made my lips twitch.

“I didn’t mean it like that. Of course you’re always welcome here anytime. But please tell me. What happened?” he hugged me tighter, ensuring I’d be safe with him, “Did he do something to you?” He leaned over, maintaining his weight and placed his chin on the top of my head.

When he said “he”, I imagined he was thinking about the same person I was. I took a deep breath, trying to gather myself. A short conflicting thought later and I mentally prepared to tell him about the events that occurred before showing up at his door in the middle of the cold fall night.

[jumpingjackets]

He Blew You Away (Philip Hamilton x Reader)

Request:

Anonymous said: 2,3,12 with Philip please💙 base on “blow us all away ”

Word Count: 2091

A/N: I’m so pumped for this one, I’ve always wanted to write from these lists. Hope you like it! (I may have gone a lil overboard with this, sue me)

from this prompt list

2. “You are not going without me.”

3.“I can’t believe you!”

12.“You can’t die. Please don’t die.”

You were happy.

Walking hand and hand with your boyfriend through town, it felt like the world could be burning down but you would be okay, because he was there. Smiling, bouncing with happiness, and overall just the beautiful person he is.

“I need to take you to that show, Y/N, I was thinking about you the whole time. You’re gonna love it.” Philip said with excitement, which you responded with fond laughter.

“Aren’t those types of plays really expensive? I don’t want you wasting so much on me.” You said, looking down with slight discomfort.

“Don’t you worry about that. My father will get them.” He said, planting a sweet kiss in your cheek.

“You’re too good to me.” You said with a beaming smile.

You walked in comfortable silence up until the heart of town, where a group seemed to be gathered at the town fountain. There was a man standing on top of a wooden crane, screaming at his audience. The people around seemed to respond in agreement.

“Isn’t that George Eacker?” You asked, standing on your tippy toes to try and see him. You recognized him mostly by his voice. Eacker shouted obscenities about a certain Hamilton that you wouldn’t dare repeat, but were clearly heard. The crowd roared.

“He’s talking about my father…” Philip whispered in apparent shock. His body seemed frozen, his fists balled up at his sides. His expression was unreadable.

“He’s a nobody, Pip. Let’s just go.” You said, tugging at his arm. His eyebrows furrowed, but eventually gave in and walked away with you. The silence between you as you reached his house wasn’t as comfortable as it was before.

When you stirred awake, it may have been well past dawn. It was still dark outside and significantly cold. You were laid on your side when you tried to reach behind you to where Philip was supposed to be, but were just met with the empty side of your bed.

You sat up, confused and tired, and looked around the room for any trace of the young boy. When nothing pointed to him still being there, you light up the candle beside your bed and walked downstairs. You had reached the bottom when the front door opened, and a fuming Philip slammed it shut. It startled you to the point where you almost dropped the lit candle.

“What were you doing out so late?” You tried to keep your voice as leveled as possible.

“That Eacker, I swear to God.” His voice was like poison, very unlike the loving and gentle Philip you’ve always known him as.

“Calm down, Pip. Tell me what happened.” You said, motioning to the nearby couch and setting the candle on the table next to it. He seemed to untense just slightly, but sat down next to you.

“After you fell asleep, me and Richard Price went to confront Eacker about the things he was saying. You know, about my father.” Philip started, fiddling with his fingers.

“Go on.” You said, leaning closer. Your mind was racing through a lot of emotions, none recognizable.

“And when we did so, he started to talk shit about us personally. Calling us rascals and scoundrels, that one was for me specifically.”

“Philip, I swear to God. You better not have done what I think you did.” You said, standing up abruptly. You turned around, back facing him, and rubbed your temples roughly.

“I challenged him to a duel. I couldn’t let him continue to talk down my father like he was. Y/N, you must understand.” Philip said desperately, his hands carefully wrapping themselves around your waist. You quickly, and rougher than you intended, pushed his hands off of you.

“I can’t believe you!” You screamed at him. You felt tears in your eyes, but your anger prevented them from falling.

“Y/N, I had to! He was disparaging my father’s legacy!”

“And to kill yourself is the way to salvage it?!” You said, turning around to stare at him directly in his eyes. Your voice started wavering, the prospect of losing Philip already overcoming you.

“I won’t let that lowlife continue dissing my family name.” Philip said quietly. He went from angry to, now, almost frightened.

“When and where is this happening, Philip?” You said firmly.

“In Jersey, tomorrow.” He said, looking down in shame. The use of his first name had an effect on him.

“Alright, I’m coming with you.” You said with a sense of finality.

“What?! Absolutely not.” You could tell Philip was terrified now.

“You are not going without me.” You said, a single tear going down your cheeks. All traces of anger or seriousness washing away.

He seemed to sense that there was no arguing with you, so he just submitted and wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace.

You stood there for a while before he guided you back to your room. It’s safe to say that you didn’t get a second of sleep after that.

“Please hide behind here.” Philip said, motioning to a dead tree close to the duel ground. You reluctantly sat at the roots, looking up at him with bloodshot eyes (from both lack of sleep and extensive crying).

“Please come back for me, Pip, okay?” You said, voice pathetically shaky. He kneeled down and pressed your foreheads together.

“I will. Don’t you worry.” He whispered, closing the distance between the both of you with a kiss.

It was strange. It wasn’t the same sweet and loving kiss you have grown used to. This kiss seemed deep, passionate, almost final.

When you pulled back, you stayed quiet for a bit before Philip looked up.

“He’s here. I need to go.” He stood up and fixed his coat. He began to walk towards the duel ground before he stopped in his tracks.

“Y/N.”

“Yes, my dear?” You asked, worry heavy in your voice.

“I love you.”

And with that, he continued his walk until you couldn’t see him anymore without making your presence known. You laid back down, your back hitting the hard trunk behind you and wrapped your arms around your bent legs in front of you.

You rocked your body back and forth softly, sending a quiet prayer to God for him to protect your Pip.

You could hear talking far behind you, but as hard as you tried, your nerves didn’t let you understand anything. You were left teary eyed, praying to God, and mumbling to yourself until the sound of a gunshot filled your ears.

It rang inside your ears for a few moments before you stood up and looked back at where Philip had walked just minutes ago.

It was like the entire world stopped. Philip was in the floor, his gun had fallen beside him, Eacker was fleeing the scene, and you could see blood pooling around his body.

You let out a heart wrenching scream before running to his side, staining your clothes completely with blood (but that was the least of your worries).

You slid your hands below the nape of his neck, carefully lifting his upper body and resting him on your knees while cradling him.

“Hey, hey, Pip, it’s okay, I got you. It’s okay.” You said, your hands hovering over his body and the bullet wound.

Philip was breathing heavily, his hands trembling as he took yours in his.

“Y/N…”

“Yes, baby. It’s me. Stay with me, okay?” You said, kissing his bloodstained hands and looking desperately at the people that had gathered around. “Someone get a doctor, please.”

“Y/N, listen to me…” Philip whispered, cupping your cheek to get your attention. Tears were now flowing out of your eyes, sobs quietly racking your whole body.

“I’m listening, Pip. I’m here.” You said, placing your hand over his.

“There’s an envelope in my coat pocket. Can you give it to my parents?” He whispered. You searched inside his coat and, surely enough, there was a folded envelope inside. “Don’t read it, you’ll find out what it says after I’m gone.”

Your eyes widened as more tears fell down your cheeks.

“Philip, no. Don’t say that. You can’t die. Please don’t die.” You gasped out, clutching his hand over your chest.

In that moment, two men were running to the scene to pick up Philip. You looked up at them, not wanting to let go of him.

“I love you, Y/N.” Philip whispered after some difficulty to sit up.

“I love you, Pip. I love you so much.” You said as you cried into his shoulder. Before you could realize it, Philip was taken from your arms and rowed across the river, probably to a hospital.

The funeral was just days after they announced his death, at his home. You had stayed in Weehawken for hours before you walked back to town, clothes stained with blood and emotionally drained. You couldn’t physically cry anymore, like if you had run out of tears to shed.

One of Philip’s sisters, Angelica Hamilton, had found you and returned you home. She was the one to deliver the news to you, and by some miracle of God, you continued to cry. She never left your side, which you greatly appreciated.

When you arrived at the Hamilton household, you instantly spotted Eliza next to her children. She was slow to look up, but she smiled softly when she realized it was you.

“My dear, I’m so glad you came.” She said, and she wrapped her arms around you gently. Her voice was sweet and kind, and it made you bury your face in the crook of her neck. “Philip was so proud of you.”

Her words made your eyes water, but you didn’t want to cry, not now.

“Your son was a good man, the best man I’ve ever met.” You said after you pulled back. She offered a grateful smile.

You remembered what Philip had asked of you, and quickly fished it from your pocket. “Mrs. Hamilton. Before he…” You started, your hand now visibly shaking with the envelope. “He wanted me to give you this, for both you and Mr. Hamilton.” You finished, your hand still shaking as you offered it to Eliza.

She looked broken as she took the creased envelope from your hand, and looked back at you. “Thank you, my dear. I’ll fetch him now.” With a bow, she was out of sight.

After a moment of being alone, you searched for somewhere you could sit, spotting a chair looking out the window. You quietly made your way to it, sitting down and rubbing your hands over your face.

It was a few minutes before a teary-eyed Eliza and full-on-crying Alexander kneeled in front of you. You were confused, but sat up straighter to look at them. Alexander handed you a letter, unmistakably Philip’s writing, and a golden ring. You looked at Alexander in the eye, not wanting to read the letter nor acknowledge what it could mean, but his heavy eyes alone convinced you to do so.

My dearest, Y/N,

I am writing to you just mere hours before the duel, as a sort of will.

My inexperience, I’m afraid, will be the cause of my demise in such a brutal and sudden encounter. I am sure I will not come out of this alive, which is the reason behind this letter. If I feel that death is inevitable in the dueling grounds, I will ask of you to give this to my parents, which I do not doubt you will do, because you are such an honest woman. One of the many qualities that made me fall madly in love with you.

You are the reason this is so difficult, because I cannot bear to leave you behind. I will admit, I am a bit afraid of dying, but I am more afraid of hurting you in the slightest. Since the moment we met, I have imagined you as my wife. There have been an embarrassing number of nights that I couldn’t sleep because of the excitement I had about the possibility of one day marrying you.

When my mother and father read this letter, this is my way of asking their permission. If this finds its way back to you, it means that they are accepting you as their daughter in law. I ask, my dear Y/N, for your hand in marriage. Wear the ring, and remember me as your husband.

I love you, deeply, and will have you in my heart for all eternity,

Your Pip

[tentaculi]

ULTIMATE SHIP = WATERMELON DUMMIES

ULTIMATE SHIP | meme // @theimpalpable

General:

Rate the Ship Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs !!!!!!

How long will they last? uh, THEY BETTER LAST FOREVER because i love them with every fiber of my being so !!!! 

How quickly did/will they fall in love? i think there was definitely feelings right away?? the thing is that these two are so shy and innocent that it took both of them some time before they were like ho woah okay i like you !!

How was their first kiss? THE CUTEST EVER??? because that meant that caradoc took serum for her and my heart just is so full of love when i think about that?? 

Wedding:

Who proposed? CARADOC. she asked him to be her boyfriend and i could see him wanting to make the next milestone advance. ( though i guess them sharing a room would technically be the next one but shhhh ). 

Who is the best man/men? LOGAN his superbro !!

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? since this family is full of boys ( wth @ the genetics ) i would say that willow probably had lexine and poppy as her bridesmaids. 

Who did the most planning? i could see them equally sharing the planning? getting married and putting a real stamp on forever is something that totally excites them both. 

Who stressed the most? maybe willow? you know she hits emotions easily and i could see doc being the one that calms her down during those moments. 

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? uhhhhhhhhh marianna and probably brandon?? maybe doc invited brandon though as another olive branch attempt but i think for sure, for sure marianna was not !!!! invited

Sex:

Who is on top? ( me just going through this is making willow blush )…. but probably they switch? i just see what they do as sweet and tender so.. whatever position they end up in is the position they end up in. 

Who is the one to instigate things? i don’t think really either one of them does and more so it develops naturally from kissing and etc. 

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 ( i only say a nine – would have been a ten but – because these two don’t rely on sex and both have that understanding. due to the special circumstances of their relationship they relish in the small touches, the sweetness, of their relationship instead of climbing on top of each other. | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 (IMAGINE THE BLUSHING THAT HAPPENS ALREADY i could not imagine these two being in the next category lmao ) | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? i think it really depends on each session individually, though perhaps sometimes on the shorter side and then others on the longer? only reason i say this is because with doc being under serum it’s not like he can…. build endurance as well u H

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? i would say yes but also… i see doc being like, a real giver / pleaser? making sure she’s taken care of just because that’s how he is in their every day life already. 

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? TWO BEAUTIFUL BOYS. 

How many children will they adopt? we’ve never talked about this before but i think it would be something willow would be open to. though, we’ve established that the boys are the only kiddos so maybe it was talked about and they decided two was enough? 

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? i see this being equal but both have a hard time sometimes because WOW POOP and get a little squeamish… maybe. 

Who is the stricter parent? probably willow? even though i don’t really see her bringing down the hammer all that often. their both so lighthearted with the boys, not that they need to be anything more, since their kiddos don’t really get in trouble or overstep bounds. 

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? willow ( insert side eye emoji )

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? willow! they will be simple ones ( until lex teaches her how to cook ) but she’s definitely the one who does. besides, doc is probably gone due to work a lot of the time that early so it makes sense. 

Who is the more loved parent? NEITHER. they are both loved and cherished by evan and farren equally, who express their love in their own ways. 

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? i think both, definitely. raising their children together and being on the same page when it comes to their education + life is very important to both of them.  

Who cried the most at graduation? oh, please, they both cried equally. i think on some level there was a point in both willow and caradoc’s life where they weren’t sure a family would ever be possible so seeing their boys walk across the stage…. showing how far they’ve come together and as a family? yeah, they’re both crying. 

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? doc, probably. willow would just be a all huffy the whole time but i’m not sure either kid would be in such severe trouble? 

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? hahahah doc…. though i guess i should say lexine, huh! 

Who is the most picky in their food choice? willow and she’s not really picky… we just know doc can sometimes be a black hole. 

Who does the grocery shopping? i think both? though they probably weren’t great at it at first… had to grow into adult grocery shopping. 

How often do they bake desserts? never because lexine does that. girl, hooks it up for these two babes. 

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? i’d say meat??? 

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? both do it! 

Who is more likely to suggest going out? i think this is also a shared thing. one time it’s doc, another time it’s willow. 

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? …… eeesh willow. 

Chores:

Who cleans the room? i think that willow’s job isn’t always as demanding as the deadlines that doc has to meet – so often she’s at home and will clean up the entire house when she can, room included!

Who is really against chores? they both are. c’mon, chores suck! but they do them. 

Who cleans up after the pets? they both share but since mr. fluffy was a gift from doc willow makes sure to clean up after him as much as possible! her pup, her responsibility…. but we all know doc will take him for a walk / clean up / love on him too. 

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? hahahah maybe doc. 

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? i don’t think either stress, really? their guests usually consists of the family or extended family so they’re all people they are comfortable around. 

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? doc, that lucky son of a –

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? willow, probably? i could see her doing it for the sake of looking like a prune and only to show doc her pruney fingers. lmao, why is she like this? 

Who takes the dog out for a walk? both!! probably together more often than not but when doc isn’t home ( due to work, etc – maybe highjacked by logan ) she’ll walk him on her own. 

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? ALL THE TIME. willow loves, loves, loves christmas so you bet they take holiday pictures and everything. 

What are their goals for the relationship? to grow and love one and other, through the good and the bad, the easy and the hard, for the rest of their lives. 

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? doc if he could…. i’m js. 

Who plays the most pranks? probably doc though willow gets her jabs in too!!!

[frenchibi]

1/2) Hi! I'd just like some advice some a seasoned writer who has a pretty damn consistent track record *Pokes*. I very recently starting writing, its the first time I've actually contributed to a fandom. With my first upload I was very nervous and feeling down right vulnerable, I remember thinking "If people don't like it, I'll probably take it down" but hallelujah, reception has been positive. TOO POSITIVE for me. It's a first world problem, but now I feel I can't measure up to expectations,

Hey there, friend!!

First of all, thank you for messaging me! I’m going to try and give you a bit of advice as best I can, though all I have to go on here is my own experience so I’m not sure how well that will translate into anything helpful :’D

I’d just like some advice some a seasoned writer who has a pretty damn consistent track record

Haha, thank you. The whole thing feels a little surreal to me. While it is true that I’ve been writing for… uh, 15 years now (what the fuck) and fanfiction specifically for at least 6 of those, I still wouldn’t consider myself a “seasoned writer” because, well… truth be told, a tiny bit of that nervousness doesn’t go away no matter how long you’ve been writing. Also, “consistent” – well. One of my resolutions for this year has been to post one fic every week. So far I’ve managed, more or less (if we disregard my own time zone a bit), but most of the time I’m flailing and wondering how the hell I’m even still doing this. It may look consistent, but tbh I’m struggling with that every week xD

I feel I can’t measure up to expectations

What you have to understand about writing fics in particular is that it is incredibly unpredictable. Putting something out there that you’ve poured your heart and soul into does not guarantee that anyone will click on it, read it or like it (and even then, they might not leave a comment, or reblog if we’re talking tumblr). There is no formula to follow for a “fic that will be liked”, and there are infinite factors why people click on fics and why they don’t. What are you tagging, what’s your summary, is your work complete or not, at what time did you post it, etc etc etc – and people are incredibly picky. So as a rule I’d say it’s… dangerous to put too much value in the feedback you get or don’t get, because not getting any hits, kudos or comments doesn’t necessarily mean that your writing is bad. Those numbers have little to no correlation to the quality of your work, and that’s… a hard concept to wrap your head around.

Now, that said, in your situation… you’ve gotten very positive feedback and maybe even a few subscriptions, you might be able to assume that people will come back to your writing – and of course they will expect something similar (in quality, though that is incredibly subjective as well) to what you’ve written before. These expectations can be terrifying, and I get that. (And they can also make you afraid to try new things, maybe even to write for different fandoms, for fear of losing the audience you’re building. I know this, too. I’ve been there often enough).

This might sound a little harsh, but, with respect to quality – I think if you could do it once, you can do it again. I feel like faith in one’s own abilities is a difficult thing to have, especially with how unreliable feedback is for fic writers. (I don’t mean to sound ungrateful here for the wonderful responses I’ve received for my own writing, but at the same time I’m aware of many, many times I’ve been bitter and unhappy about getting little to no meaningful feedback for something that I personally thought was pretty damn great or something I really enjoyed writing. Putting your writing out for people (people you don’t know, mostly, and people who can be very opinionated, too) to judge is grueling and not always rewarding.) Also - the more you write, the more you’re going to improve with experience!However, the first and most important opinion on your work is your own. If you don’t like what you’re writing, it’s unlikely that other people will, either. You’re not writing to please other people. First and foremost, you should be writing things that you would enjoy to read, as well.

Now, as for your questions:

How do you stay motivated?

I feel like this is a very subjective question and depending on which writer you ask, you will get different answers. I also feel it has a lot to do with personality? Also everyone struggles with different aspects of being creative.

For me, it’s like this: I get inspired all the time. Hear a new song? Potential AU. See interesting people in the street? AU. Watch a movie? AU. Have an interesting conversation? Hc for a character. The sun’s shining? Fic idea. It’s raining? Fic idea. Snow? Idea. Feeling sad? Idea. Feeling happy? Idea. Feeling empty and unmotivated? Okay but what if I project this onto xy character? - you get the picture.

So for me, there’s never a shortage of ideas – my problem is focus. With 50k ideas, how do you pick one to focus on? My answer is: You don’t. You write whatever the hell you feel like writing. Forcing something that you’re not 100% into never really works out to anyone’s satisfaction. At least it’s never worked in my case, because my writing heavily depends on my emotional state. (An attitude that @josai taught me, by the way. I am always WAY too worried about “pleasing my readers” by writing what they want. No. It’s your writing. You’re the one sharing ideas, here.) If this means that it takes longer to update a certain AU, then I guess that’s how it is. But since I’m very excitable, if my readers want a particular update, all they gotta do is scream at me about a particular fic, I guess, and I’ll immediately be inclined to jump on it again. I’m… very easy that way.

As a general rule, if you’re finding it hard to motivate yourself to write, I can suggest several options:

1)      Clear your schedule for an hour (or half) every day, find a quiet corner, get a cup of [hot beverage of choice] and just write. If you don’t have any ideas, look up prompts and write drabbles. Experiment with your style. Mine is dialogue-heavy, for example, so on occasion when nothing is working I try for something more descriptive. Or: minimalist. Tell a story in as few words as possible. OR the drastic opposite – how overboard can you go, describing every tiny detail? These kind of exercises can help you find a style you’re comfortable with and also expand your repertoire, so to speak. (btw, I have posted some of these more experimental fics of mine, hmu if you want to know which ones they are)

Alternatively, if no prompts are helping: do a writing exercise. One I particularly like is to give yourself a time limit (say, 5 or 10 minutes) and then force yourself to write without stopping, no matter what. No ideas? Tough luck. You gotta keep writing. Even if you’re just writing about not having ideas. Fill a page. Maybe fill two. I find that getting started is the most difficult thing, and this sort of exercise can help you with that.

2)      Get yourself an accountability group – a reliable one, not “just” the commenters from your first fic. WRITER FRIENDS! Most of my ideas are fleshed out by talking about them to other people in the fandom, and having someone else get excited with you can really boost your motivation. Also, of course not everyone just has writer friends – they’re surprisingly easy to make, though. I’d say 90% of the people in this fandom that I talk to who are writers became my friends after I yelled at them about how much I love their work. It goes both ways, of course, but that’s just a bonus?? You get to see what people you admire are working on, and maybe get their input for some of your works!! Jackpot! Excitement is incredibly contagious, and I feel like that’s what makes fanfiction writing so rewarding. The “sharing” part of it. That’s why I do it. And even if one of my fics doesn’t get as many responses as I might’ve liked, at least I got to yell about it with a couple friends. This ties in to your next question:

How do you not get so invested in other people’s opinions on your writing?

See, anon – you’re under the misconception that I’m not invested in people’s opinions :’) On the contrary. I check notes and comments religiously, read the tags of every reblog I get, and scream when someone leaves me a comment that’s longer than one line. I don’t think it’s possible to get over caring so much for feedback – at least not for a person like me. Maybe there are ways. Maybe there are people who are just so incredibly confident in their abilities that it doesn’t matter to them at all. I am not one of those people xD

What helps, though, is having the above mentioned Trusted Writer Friend(s). Put your value in their opinions instead of the opinions of “the broader readership” because everyone is different and there’s no way you can please everyone. And if you’re not sure you can trust/value another writer’s opinions that much (we’re all different, too, after all) – have some faith in yourself. I know that’s the most difficult thing ever, but it’s not a problem anyone can solve for you.

How do you get over those feelings of self-embarrassment (self-consciousness?) when you write?

Those fade. I may care a lot about people’s opinions, but when I write something, I have a pretty good idea of whether I think it’s “good” or not, by my standards. I know my own style well enough by now to know what I want it to be – and if it’s not, I scrap or rewrite. As simple as that. And if none of it helps – take a leap of faith and just post. It might not be as bad as you think it is, because we’re overly critical of ourselves. There’s got to be a point when you stop revising and just post the thing, otherwise you’ll drive yourself crazy with worry and perfectionism.

I am very prone to doing this, and what helps here is an opinion from outside, from someone you can trust. I always shove my writing into one of my friends’ faces before I post, because two pairs of eyes are more likely to spot typos and mistakes and stuff like that, and it makes me feel a bit better about posting it. There’ve been disagreements there too, though, of course. For example, I’m very particular about rhythm in my own fics, but I’m never able to explain exactly what I mean by that? Sometimes a sentence just doesn’t read well, to me, and I have to rewrite it until it feels right, which can be… tedious and questionable if seen from anyone else’s perspective but my own. It’s hard.

That said – sometimes I just… have a feeling, about my writing. This is a very subjective thing, again, and ties into what your focus is when you write and post – are you telling a story, conveying a feeling, an idea, a relationship? That differs from fic to fic, and your approach to different areas of focus might be different. For some of my fics, I didn’t want anyone else to read them before I posted them, because I felt that if I made changes that someone else suggested, it might take away from the impact that I wanted to convey in my own words.

It also ties into why you want to write – and this might sound, I don’t know, arrogant, maybe? But. In general, I write because I have stories to tell. I write because I am excited about ideas and about my interpretations of the characters and I kind of… want to expose them and see what people feel. I’m… ambitious about them, in a way, because I tend to like my own ideas a lot? So I want to know if I can make people agree with me, convince them of my interpretation, in a way. Get them just as excited as I am. I know it’s not a contest, but I’m competitive. That gives me the drive to keep writing, because I want to be better. That’s a huge part of what drives me to keep writing and posting, even if my most recent fic didn’t get as many responses as I would have liked.

It’s like… why write another coffee shop AU, if there are already so many? Well, because mine would be different. I don’t know about better, but I’d still want to tell a story my way. Have you ever read a book and thought “I would have worded that differently”? That’s why I write. Because sometimes I like my own words better than those of other people.

All this, of course, not to say that I don’t get super excited about other people’s writing! On the contrary. I see works on a daily basis that I feel have a better grasp of the characters and of the English language that I do, and those make me want to improve.

QWESADLFJNSKJDB

I agree. That’s… generally what writing makes me feel xD

I guess, in conclusion – there’s no right way to do these things. I can just tell you what works for me, and hope it helps you a bit. If you feel like I didn’t answer your questions to your satisfaction, feel free to shoot me another ask, or twenty. I love talking about this, and I know everyone has different opinions/tips/advice here so hmu anytime!!

[my-mystic-messenger]

Considering what we know about Jumin and V's background and upbringing, what would their worst childhood memories be? Since they were close, do they know about the events of each other's worst memory, or is it a secret that they kept from one another?

This is by far one of themost interesting requests I got so far and I have to admit that mymind went to some pretty dark places when I first read it. However, Ididn't want to go too overboard with this one, so I toned itdown a little as to not make people cry/triggered/question my sanity.I hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist

|| REQUEST ARE (ALWAYS)OPEN!! ||

“Let me tell youthis: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it's notbecause they enjoy solitude. It's because they have tried to blendinto the world before, and people continue to disappoint them.”― Jodi Picoult, My Sister's Keeper

♛Jumin♛

The two of you were lyingin bed together, his arm thrown around you protectively. You werenaked other than the satin sheet hugging your bodies that over thecourse of the night had tangled into one. It was a peaceful moment,the stars shining outside the window as silence claimed the deep,dark night. Jumin had been away on a business trip for a couple ofdays, leaving you both aching and lonely. Despite having work hecalled you at least once an hour to check up on you and the momenthe'd gotten home he'd claimed your body as his, almost as if heneeded to remind someone that you belonged to him. When he pressed akiss to your forehead you looked up at him. “Jumin...why are youthe way you are?” Now that was a very loaded question no one hadever bothered to ask. “Well...”

♛

“Jumin, you'll have todo better than 95% to succeed in life.”“Jumin, you have tolearn how to understand people's.”“Jumin, stop crying! Don't be emotional like that.”“Jumin, do what you have to get what you want.”“Jumin, smile for thepeople. They like it.”“Jumin, learn tobehave.”“Jumin sit straight!”“Jumin, be quiet!”“You did perfect, Jumin.”“You're so clever, Jumin.”“You are so mature, Jumin.”“You're so charming, Jumin.”“You are so determined, Jumin.”“You're so well mannered, Jumin.”“You are such a pretty boy, Jumin.”“You've grown into sucha handsome man...Jumin.”

No matter what peopletold him over the years, Jumin had always known those to be emptywords. Whether his mother scolded him or some faceless woman praisedhim, nothing ever carried any meaning or consequence to his life.After his mother had left his father and consequently him there'dbeen very few things for Jumin to care for or about. He'd foundhimself an empty shell, questioning where he'd misstepped to havecaused such a thing. After all she'd always tried to teach himmanners and etiquette and instead he'd gone off playing with hisfriend, Jihyun. It was all his fault that she'd left them so it wasup to him to get her back. In a frail attempt to do as much Jumintrimmed himself into a good, well-mannered boy. Never once did hemisbehave and yet his mother never returned. 

Despite never getting hismother back Jumin had female's in his life aplenty. Not that any ofthem stuck around long enough for him to remember their faces ornames. After the first three he'd given up to even pretendremembering their names, instead calling them either Miss or Madame,sometimes mother, if they were of the persistent kind. Never once didhe form any bond with them, let alone miss them once they were gone.He'd learned early on that attachment meant weakness and Jumin had nointention of being weak ever again. For the most part it worked, too.After a while the various women stopped sweet-talking him and hecould return to the blissful state of letting his father be andignore their existence. That is until she came around.

Herbeing his stepmother, the woman that actually managed to wrestle downhis father and get him to put a ring on her finger. She also lastedsurprisingly long and while Jumin never really grew to like her, heat least remembered the woman's name and even started to call hermother unironically. After all she did raise him to some extend.Despite the fact that their age difference was smaller than the agedifference between her and his father. Still, the man seemed happyand who was Jumin to ruin that for his father. After all, he lovedhim and wanted only the best for him. It was precisely he kept quietthrough all the things she did to him during those years she livedwith them. Specifically that one time he could never burn from hismind, no matter how much wine or work he pushed on himself.

Jumin still had nightmaresof that incident when he was ten years old. His father had been goneon a short business trip and he'd been busy with either school,homework or playing with Jihyun. Apparently his step-mother had grownbored with his father away and so when he'd refused to pay her anyattention she'd grounded him. When he'd still refused to pay her anymind, focusing on school work and reading instead, she'd grownimpatient with him. She'd sought him out in his room, cornering himin the only private place that still remained his. He'd felt cagedand scared, almost as if hunted by a predator.  She'd sat him down onthe bed, purred at him about wanting more attention and how cold hewas being, how rude. It had been one of many times to follow.

Oncemore Jumin had refused her and somehow it had angered her to thepoint of rage and fury. She'd gotten up then, slapped the boy so hardhe'd fallen back onto the bed, tears springing to his eyes as he heldonto his gradually reddening cheek. She'd snapped at him for notcrying, that he didn't deserve to cry nor that a boy his age shouldcry and for whatever reason Jumin took it to heart. He stopped cryingalmost immediately, instead sitting up to stare at the woman withdefiance burning in his eyes. He would not allow himself to be beatenby such irrelevant wench! Jumin explained that he would tell hisfather about what she'd done, about how she'd be gone quicker thanshe'd stepped into their lives. Apparently the calmness with whichhe'd said so was threat enough to her and she took it serious.

Hehadn't realized just how serious until a couple of days later whenhis father was about to return. After so many days without anyonearound to play with Jumin had grown even lonelier and so when she'dsuggested a round of hide and seek he'd actually agreed. As mostchildren would he'd hidden in the most typical place possible; thecloset. That, of course, had been something she'd counted on. For along time Jumin sat in utter silence until suddenly the door waskicked open, his father and her stumbling inside. They were kissingheavily, rubbing against one another and already panting. Jumin'seyes widened but he kept quiet, covering his mouth as to not make asound. Had she forgotten about their game? Was this maybe part of therules he hadn't yet read?

As it turned out, it was apart of the rules. Rules of a game he hadn't understood yet. Games ofpossession and control. A game of war. Jumin shook as he watched hisfather do things to that woman he'd never meant to see. Dirty things.Things that his premature mind could not understand. It wasn't themost unsettling part, however. If anything it was the way she keptlooking at him. Jumin was hidden meaning she shouldn't have been ableto see him and yet her eyes seemed to pierce right through him as shesmirked at him devilishly. Her moans were loud and pierced, obviouslymeant to hurt the boy hiding away, desperately trying to block themout. He couldn't do it. No matter how hard Jumin tried he couldneither avert his gaze nor shut his ears and so he watched andlistened with disgust for hours.

Hours later, with hisfather passed out beside her, she'd gotten up and stalked to thecloset, her smirk even more wicked than before. She ripped the doorsopen and started to scream. The smile was instantly replaced byrealistic looking shock and disgust. Her screams, of course woke hisfather who instantly jumped off the bed to see what was going on.Jumin who was still frozen in shock merely looked at the pair as sheproceeded to tell the man that Jumin had spied on them having sex,how disgusting that was. At first he'd attempted to calm her, butthen she'd threatened to leave him if he didn't keep his son in checkand that seemed to do the trick. At first he looked defeated, than heglared down at Jumin, dragging him out of the closet and towards hisbedroom.

Jumin had began to explain himself, trying to tellhis father that she'd been the one to suggest hide and seek to him,but the man had refused to listen to any of it. To him his wife coulddo no wrong, especially when she was being so convincing at shakingand on the verge of tears about those traumatic events concerning herstep-son peeping on her. He'd set his son down, loudly declaring thatwhat he'd done had been disgusting. He said it again and again, wordsringing through the boys mind as he stood stiff like a statue,fighting away the tears he knew no one wanted to see. Sex.Disgusting. Disgusting. Sex. What he'd done had been disgusting.Suddenly those words began to merge into one, inseparable to hismind. Her. Sex. Disgusting. From that moment on he'd keptaway from his 'mother'. The second he'd hit his early teens he'ddemanded his own apartment to avoid further conflict andconfrontation. To his father he explained it by saying he neededprivacy to work, not even daring to suggest that he wanted them tohave privacy as well. It took him years to realize that what she'ddone to him had been the truly disgusting act, but after years ofinternalizing the damage had been done. This game of superioritythey'd played he'd lost. He would have accepted defeat, for hisfather sake, had the very same woman not attempted to seduce him bythe age of sixteen, this time demanding a different kind of attentionfrom him. Luckily Jumin in his now drilled perfectionism made sure tocollect evidence of said event.

When he'd showed saidevidence to his father that man had still been in denial for a longtime. Mainly because it not only meant losing the woman he'd spentthe last couple of years raising his son with, but because it alsomeant that he had to admit to having made a lot of and very gravemistakes. However, evidence started to pile up and eventually it gottoo much for even him to ignore. He confronted his wife and they soonseparated. She'd won the battle, but Jumin had won the war. Still, ashe then watched one woman after another come and go through hisfathers doors, forced to let go of yet another Chief Assistant,because his father had polluted her he wondered whether thatstatement was even true. His father was a stranger, his mother goneand once more only loneliness prevailed.

♛

You held onto him as heconfined in you, shocked at the things that were coming out of hismouth. You could feel your heart shatter into pieces as you imaginedthat small, fragile ten-year-old boy shutting himself off fromreality, the bad as much as the good, to numb the pain. It all madesense now, everything from his cold demeanour, his controllingbehaviour and everything relationship related. You kissed hisforehead, brushing away his hair. “Did V know this”, you asked,voice hoarse. Jumin shook his head. “He never asked so I nevertold. No one ever asked.” You could feel your eyes burning withtears as you realized that not even his supposed best friend thoughtof asking what had happened. “You must have been so lonely”, youwhispered hoarsely. “I'm not anymore...”

📷Jihyun/V📷

Lyingat Rika's feet, blinded and about to meet his maker, V closed hiseyes only to be met by a row of wrong decisions, twists and turns.Guilt was tearing at his heart even in the last split seconds of hislife as images and ideas overwhelmed him. How had he ended up here? Atraitor to his friends and a failure to his fiancée. It would havebeen easy to blame Rika for all of it, but he'd been just as at faultas her. His love had, in every sense of the word, blinded him. Onlyas he took his very last breath did he finally realize what had drawnhim to her; her loneliness. The pain behind her green eyes reflectingthe  inner turmoil he himself suffered made him believe he'd finallyfound a person who would save him from his miserable state. He'd puther on a pedestal and now he paid the price for it. “Ri-ka...”

📷

Jihyun knew that he was afortunate child. Mainly because people tended to remind him of saidfact on a rather regular basis. Whenever he had so much as thesmallest complaint one person or the other would scold him for forit. How dare he complain when he had all the things other peopledreamed off; good looks, a safe home and the means to pursue all hisdreams, if he so wished. His parents were both world known artists,supporting whatever path he wanted to take in life, a benefit veryfew people had, even as children of wealthy men and women. He wasaware of the merits that came with being born to this Kim family andJihyun wasn't ungrateful. However, people loved to close their eyesto the fact that money could buy a lot of things, but never love.

His entire life Jihyunfound himself utterly deprived of his parents love, or at least thekind of love he craved. His parents were rarely home to begin withand even when they were, they were hardly domestic about it. In fact,sometimes Jihyun found himself wondering why they'd decided to have achild at all, if they so obviously didn't care. For a couple of yearsthe young boy had assumed that his family was normal. Growing up in abig house with his only company being the maids was what he assumedevery wealthy family to be like. Then he'd started watching TV,however, and the people in the shows and movies were so differentthan his. Hours upon hours were spent in front of the TV, watchingimaginary people living imaginary lives so much more cheerful thanhis own.

Where were the lunches anddinners spent with the entire family? Where were those sweet momentswere mama and papa kissed briefly before sending the other off towork, wishing them luck? Why did neither of his parents ever read agoodnight story to Jihyun and why did they never even listen when heneeded help, let alone give advice? Sometimes he even had a hard timeremembering when he'd last been hugged by either of his parents.Whenever they had to travel somewhere they briefly ruffled his hair,told him where the money was and that he was supposed to be on hisbest behaviour while they were gone. Sometimes his mother would takethe time to press a kiss to his forehead, but even that had gottenless over the years, as she was always in a hurry.

In fact, the only timeJihyun ever saw her act parental was when she appeared in one ofthose TV shows he watched. He also saw more of her on those showsthan he did at home. Home...such an interesting term. Was it evenhome if you didn't feel at home at all? The house was beautiful,expensively furnished and huge. Still, with no one around to shareit, no memories attached to it that would be worth revisiting sometime in the future, it was more of a placeholder for a home than ahome itself. Jihyun yearned for connection, for someone to talk toand share his worries with who was neither paid to be at the housenor going to judge him for voicing his feelings. It was then thathe'd gone to church for the very first time.

Church wasmagnificent, filled with people who were singing and talking, unitedin their beliefs. He found himself mesmerized by many of the storiesin that books he'd discovered all by himself. So much so that itbecame a weekly tradition for him to go to church and listen to thepastor preach to eagerly listening people, about love, compassion andcommunity. He'd never experiences such a thing, such sense ofbelonging and while he didn't quite believe in what the bible said,at least not exactly as it was preached, it felt good to be part ofsomething bigger. Jihyun felt like he belonged somewhere for thefirst time in his life. Despite going all by himself, unbeknownst toanyone, he still felt connected to anyone he shared prayers with sohe went as often as he could, unwilling to let go of that feeling.

It was about two months ofhim going to church at least once a week that he turned around fromaccepting his host only to stop in his tracks as he almost ran into aboy his age. He looked at him with a blank expression, head tilted tothe side ever so slightly as if he was in thought, before he pointedtowards the booth Jihyun had seen people disappear into for a coupleof minutes before coming back out. They always looked like some kindof weight had been lifted of their shoulders and he'd wondered onmore than one occasion what exactly happened in there to make themlook that way. “It is not enough to just come to church. You haveto make confessions as well”, the boy said, still looking at Jihyunwith that same, unmoving expression.

“A confession”, Jihyunasked. “What exactly to I confess?” The boy – his name wasJumin Han, as it turned out – told him that confessionals weresupposed to be a place where you told your sins to a pastor and hetold you how to atone for them before forgiving you in the name ofGod and Jesus. Jihyun didn't feel like he had all too many sins toconfess and when he told Jumin as much the boy had merely shruggedand suggested to just go in there and talk about his problems orsomething. Apparently he himself only did it because the pastorexpected a monthly confession, as preparation for the upcoming firstcommunion. Once more Jihyun found himself confused by all thoseterms, but at least this time he had someone to explain.

From that moment on Jihyunand Jumin became tight friends somehow. They sat beside one anotherin church, waited for the other to confess and afterwards went out toplay somewhere before it was time to go home. Jumin was very patientwith Jihyun and he never said anything when he complained about howempty his big house was. In fact, Jumin's big house was empty too, soinstead the two played outside together, often forgetting the time.However, the closer first communion came, the less time Jumin had toplay. He had to be in church and learn all the prayers and stuffJihyun hadn't quite grasped yet. He didn't mind, as Jumin had openeda whole new world to him to explore when he'd given him his firstcamera as a Christmas gift.

From the moment he'd taken hisfirst photo Jihyun had been fascinated. Not that he'd never seen acamera before, but he'd never been allowed to touch his fathers. Nowhe had one of his own, seeing the world through the lens more oftenthan not. He'd been outside for hours that day, taking photographs ofthe approaching clouds darkening the sky, not really thinking aboutthe fact that those usually meant heavy rain. Before he knew itdarkness had covered the city and rain had begun to pour. Jihyun hadrun home quickly, seeking shelter, but found the door locked. Hescreamed and knocked for his parents to open, but no one ever did. Itwas then that he recalled them having given him a curfew. Uponchecking his watch he realized he'd missed it by half an hour.Hebanged at the door for what felt like hours, screaming and prayingfor someone to open until his voice cracked and he became sore.Realizing that his parents were gone, having completely forgottenabout their son being outside, he sunk to his knees. Hands andforehead pressed against the door he cried for many hours, the rainstill pouring down onto him. This was all his fault. Had he listenedto his parents like a proper boy he wouldn't have found himselflocked out. Not only that, but for a week at that, as they were gonefor some sort of business meeting. He had no access to money, a phoneor even shelter. Jihyun knew he could have gone to church, but he'dbeen bad by disobeying his parents and if this was his punishment itwas his to bear and suffer through.

At some point he must havefallen asleep, because the last thing Jihyun remembered was waking upto a small hand shaking him. It had been light then, his back leaningagainst the door as his eyes slowly fluttered open only to find Juminbending over him. “You didn't come to church so I came to see whatis going on. You're drenched and you look pale. I think you need adoctor.” Jihyun hadn't even been able to reply, Jumin quicklycalling one of his bodyguards to carry his friends body to thenearest hospital. He'd caught pneumonia sitting in the cold all nightand for the following week resided at Jumin's place, getting curedand pampered. He felt like a burden for the most part, but Juminassured him he was happy to have his company and help.

📷

Looking back at theseevents now, even only just in flashes, V realized that moment hadbeen his rebirth as V. Jihyun had died that very rainy night to makespace for V, the young man trying to make the world more beautiful byonly seeing parts of it. He'd blinded himself long before Rika haddone so for him. His pictures only caught moments and only the mostalluring ones he chose to see. He'd ignored the ugly truth for toolong and it had gotten him where he was now. He realized that heshouldn't have lied, that he should have confessed like Jumin hadtold him to many, many years ago. Still, in his last moments onearth, V couldn't find it in himself to regret. Thanks to that boywho'd reached out to him all those years ago he'd experienced everykind of love there was to experience, the void in his heart finallyfilled to the brim. So even as it was about to stop beating forever Vknew that this love he'd saved up was taken care of. It would begiven onto and shared with so many more people and V couldn't havegiven his life to a better cause.