#hello is this thing on can anyone hear me

[2amriize]

.ᐟ RIIZE scenario : drunk calling ex!riize ༉‧₊˚.

req: hello sorry for another rq but what about ex!riize and you're drunk call him.. can i be 🪐 anon too pls

note: sure! thank you for your request ♥

pairing: ex!riize x reader— masterlist

⭑.ᐟ shotaro

“y/n? Why are you calling me?”

“I just… I saw this otter plushie on my way home, and it reminded me so much of you.”

After dinner with your friends, you drank a bit too much, and seeing that plushie made you think of your ex, Shotaro. You couldn’t help but call him, missing him deeply. Though you had separated due to the distance, both of you still harbored feelings for each other. Surprised by your call, he answered immediately, letting out a small laugh when he realized you were drunk.

“Are you walking home alone? Don’t hang up, I’ll talk to you until you get there… So, tell me, what was the otter like?”

⭑.ᐟ eunseok

“Why are you calling me now, y/n?”

“Do you ever think about me, Eunseok?”

Eunseok didn’t expect your call late at night, much less for your first words in months to be that. He stayed silent for a few moments before letting out a sigh.

“Have you been drinking, y/n?”

“Just… answer my question…” From the tone of your voice, he knew you were drunk.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, y/n. We’re not talking about this if you won’t even remember it when you wake up.”

⭑.ᐟ sungchan

“Huh? Sungchan? Why did you call me?”

“You’re the one who called me, yn…”

After your office dinner, you had a little too much to drink and accidentally called Sungchan. When he answered and heard your voice, he couldn’t help but laugh at how confused you sounded.

“It was me…? Sorry, I meant to call a taxi…” you said, about to hang up before he spoke again.

“Where are you, y/n? Have you been drinking?”

Even though it had been months since you broke up, Sungchan still cared for you deeply. He decided to stay on the phone to make sure you got home safely.

⭑.ᐟ wonbin

“Mgh…?”

Wonbin was already asleep when you called, his voice groggy as he answered. You had just gotten home from a party, but for some reason, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Memories of all the sweet moments you shared flooded your mind.

“I miss coming home and sleeping next to you…”

“Huh, y/n? Why are you calling so late?”

“I miss you, Wonbin… Don’t you miss me? Don’t you miss anything about me?”

“Ah… you’re drunk, aren’t you? I do miss you, y/n, but… this isn’t the time to talk about it.”

⭑.ᐟ seunghan

“y/n? Is something wrong?”

After drinking with your friends at a bar, memories of how things ended with Seunghan overwhelmed you. You hadn’t been able to say a proper goodbye, and it still haunted you. Seeing your call, he answered, concerned, it wasn’t like you to call so late. But hearing your voice, he quickly realized what was going on.

“I’m so sorry, Seunghan… I’m sorry for leaving like that, for how I treated you, and… I hope someday you can forgive me, you know? I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or what, but I miss you so much right now…”

“You don’t need to apologize, y/n… Are you okay? Are you with anyone? I can come pick you up…”

⭑.ᐟ sohee

“Do you know how much I sacrificed for you? And you haven’t even apologized yet…”

The last thing Sohee expected that day was a call from you, let alone a drunken, angry one. Although he didn’t like the way you were speaking to him, he also didn’t want to argue with you in that state.

“I’m not going to talk to you about this right now, y/n. I already explained why we broke up… Are you home? Please go to bed. If you want, I’ll call you tomorrow, but don’t do this now.”

⭑.ᐟ anton

“y/n, what…?”

“Anton? I didn’t know who else to call… I’ve been drinking, and I started feeling sick on my way home… I think I’m near your place, but I don’t know…”

You thought you could get home without a taxi after a party, but you started feeling dizzy and lost along the way. Even though Anton was your ex, you knew he’d always answer, so you called him for help. Hearing your voice, Anton immediately grew nervous, worrying about you and getting ready to find you. He didn’t hold any grudges against you, if anything, he still hadn’t completely gotten over you. Without hesitation, he went out to help.

masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess @yuzuksi

[insomniadreamzz]

OK OK OK FOLLOWING THE PREGNANCY STORYLINE LETS IMAGINE ISHA IS HERE A CUTE FLUFFY THING WITH EITHER ISHA MEETING THE BABY OR FINDING OUT READER IS PREGNANT AND THAT SHES GONNA BE A BIG SIS

Our family

Jinx x Fem!Reader ft. Isha (plus a little bonus with Sevika)

Fluff

A continuation from the fic „My Everything“ https://www.tumblr.com/insomniadreamzz/772011828255621120/hey-how-are-you-i-wanted-to-request-gp-jinx-x

You still remember when Isha found out she gonna be a big sister, the way her eyes were literally glowing with happiness. Isha was mute but she expressed her happiness clearly, already doing little doodles of her and her sister together with you and Jinx. The way she put her little head on your baby bump to feel her sister kick, it was just too cute.

Jinx already set up some stuff for the little one, making sure youre gonna have everything you needed when the baby will arrive and soon it happened.

You can still remember how Jinx held your hand and never left your side. Singed, the only doctor here in Zaun also made an appearance to make sure everything went well. He wasn’t used to be part of something like that very often but he was glad he could help you out in that situation. Jinx kisses on your forehead and the way she encouraged you during that hard time, it was still stuck in your head how gentle and loving she can be and then it happened. When you first heard your little one cry, both of you shed tears of happiness, feeling relieved that everything went good. It was a little girl.

When you both got back home after that, Jinx immediately ushered you to bed, figuring you must be tired as you had your newborn in your arms, Jinx never leaving your side.

„Look how cute she is…our little one…“ She cooed, holding you close as she admired your daughter, making you smile so happily. „Of course she is, she is ours.“ You mentioned, looking into your girlfriend’s eyes. „What should we name her?“ You asked and Jinx already got an idea, something that she was thinking about for a longer time now since she knew you are pregnant.

„Powder.“ Jinx said, making your eyes widen in confusion, knowing it was Jinx‘s actual name. „Powder?“ You asked, Jinx nodding in response. „Yes. I want to have a good connection to that name now. Every time I hear it I have to think about myself when I was younger and…certain things happened but I want to forget that. I want to be happy hearing the name Powder and not feel triggered anymore by that name. She will be a better Powder, not like me. I am Jinx now, Powder died in me but we can make her be a better Powder than I was.“ You heard her voice crack a little, seeing little tears running down her cheeks. This really meant a lot to Jinx, you knew it. „Then she will be Powder.“ You agreed with her, using your free hand to caress her back gently, getting back her attention towards you. „Thank you my love.“ She said before placing a little kiss on your lips.

The moment got interrupted by little footsteps, it was Isha who curiously walked up to you, Jinx shifting to make space for Isha between you both. „Isha! Come here, say hello to your little sister.“ Jinx said, letting the girl slip beside you as she looked at the little one with wide happy eyes, her small hand gently touching Powder as if welcoming her.

„Now you are a big sister. You can show her everything when she gets a little bigger, cool right?“ You said, Isha nodding at your words, feeling really happy to be a big sister now plus she was excited to have someone to play with in the future as well.

You talked a little more this evening until all of you just fell asleep. Powder on your chest and Isha sleeping between you and Jinx, all cuddled up in one bed. It was a very peaceful moment. Jinx slept for the first time very happily and calm, the voices in her head not bothering her at all. She was truly happy for the first time and she won’t let anyone destroy this happy life she had.

The next morning Sevika was on her way to Jinx’s hideout, it’s been a while since she showed up, probably hanging around in the Last Drop or doing her usual work. Sevika knew Jinx from when Silco took her with him so she felt like she had to look for her every now and then, making sure Jinx was alright.

„Jinx where the fuck are-…“ She started but stopped immediately in her tracks as she saw Jinx holding a baby while you and Isha were still sleeping cuddled up together. „Where did that baby come from?“ She asked with a raised eyebrow, not trusting this situation for now.

„That’s my daughter which came right out of my girlfriend if you want to know.“ Jinx replied with her usual sassy behavior. Sevika didn’t want to know any more details, shaking it off as she stepped closer to Jinx, having a closer look at the baby. „That’s…really yours?“ She asked again, being a little bit shocked, Jinx nodding in response. „Yep! Does auntie Sevika want to say hello to little Powder? Or are you gonna chicken out?“ Obviously Jinx had to tease Sevika but the older woman didn’t let her make her annoyed as she just nodded. Jinx helped Sevika to hold Powder with her arm, the baby looking even smaller in her strong arm. „There you go.“

Sevika stared at the baby with a unusual soft gaze. „Aw…did you just say auntie Sevika?“ She asked to be sure. „Of course! You’re the only one left who’s like a family to me after Silco died.“ Jinx became soft as she said that, thinking it was about time to speak the truth to Sevika, making the other womans eyes water a little. „Silco would be so happy and proud of you Jinx.“ Sevika mentioned, making Jinx almost cry but she held back her tears. Instead a little tear rolled down Sevika‘s cheek. „Are you crying?“ Jinx tilted her head as she gazed at Sevika who just shook her head. „No I am not.“ She said, making Jinx chuckle in response. „Damn you are a bad liar.“

And with that both started chuckling.

[okaysonny]

Hello, can we get a sweet, tooth aching, whipped, fluff goo with chubby reader, where goo is supporting/comforting reader bcs they being insecure abt their looks? Feel free to ignore this if u feel uncomfyyy, thank u sm🫶🏻💞

for the love of cake (and you) ╏ goo kim

ᯓ★ summary: a sweet treat never hurt anyone.

ᯓ★ details: fluff, f! reader, spoiler free.

ᯓ★ wc: 540

ᯓ★ A/N: pretty short. sorry anon, this is probably less sentimental than what you wanted 😭 that is beyond my level of capabilities...+ i didn't address reader's insecurities directly, but it's implied. still, i hope you like it!

you hear goo’s obnoxiously loud humming from down the hall, getting closer with every step. as always, he enters the room like it’s a broadway stage, presenting an elaborate box in one hand.

“voila!” he announces, popping the lid off with a flourish. inside sits the most mouth-watering cake you’ve ever seen: three layers of chocolate, whipped cream, and enough frosting to put anyone in a sugar coma. “a masterpiece for your majesty! go ahead, thank me for putting some brightness in your life”

you blink at the cake, your stomach growling despite your resolve. “uh…i’m good. thanks though”

goo blinks, caught off guard. "what do you mean?!" he pouts.

“i mean i’m not hungry!” you say quickly, waving your hands dismissively.

his lips quirk into a sly grin as he sets the box down. “not hungry?” he repeats, voice dripping with disbelief. “or… are we talking that kind of 'not hungry'? y'know, when you’re suddenly thinking about carbs and calories and—”

“no!” you cut him off, the denial coming out way too loud. “that’s not it. i just…don’t want cake right now. is that illegal?”

goo's grin turns devilish. “so, if i hand you this fork…” he holds it out dramatically. “...you’re not gonna grab it, shovel cake into your mouth, and cry happy tears?”

your face burns. “that’s not gonna happen, because i don't want it!”

he hums, tilting his head in exaggerated thought. “so, you’re telling me this has nothing to do with you trying to diet—”

“of course not!” you snap, snatching the fork from him, purely out of spite. “you’re insane goo. stop analysing everything!”

his smirk widens as you stab at the cake, cutting off a small piece and taking an aggressive bite. the sweetness hits you immediately, rich and creamy, and you have to fight the smile threatening to break through. goo, of course, notices.

“there she is” he drawls, leaning against the counter, clearly a little too smug. “see? you can thank me now. or later, when you finish the whole thing”

you glare at him through a mouthful of cake, trying to swallow before snapping back, but he beats you to it.

“oh, and by the way...” he adds casually, wiping his glasses. “...dieting is for people who actually need it. trust me, you’re not on that list”

he swipes a bit of frosting with his finger and pops it into his mouth. “so stop being weird and eat, before i finish this for you”

your chewing slows, eyes narrowing. “was that… a compliment?”

“dunno. was it?” he quips, winking before heading out the door. “either way, cake tastes better when you’re smiling. don’t forget it!”

you stare after him, stunned for a moment. you roll your eyes and scoop up another bite of cake, a small smile creeping up despite yourself.

as the door clicks shut behind him, the words replay in in his head. cake tastes better when you're smiling. don't forget it! his brow twitches, and he scowls at himself.

“fuck…that’s so corny”

but as he rounds the corner, his grin reappears. he can allow it for today, if it meant you didn’t feel like… whatever it was you were feeling before.

not that he’d ever admit it.

divider: @strangergraphics

[mywitchyblog]

hello! I really love your content, and I’ve been following you for quite some time. i think your opinions on various topics are very thoughtful and accurate, so i have a question.

i’ve been noticing a subject (particularly on shiftok😭) where many people express their dislike of others scripting traumatic events into their realities, included to create a more intense backstory for them. for example, scripting that they lost a parent when they were younger or went through psychotic depression as a child.

i’d like to hear your opinion on this. do you think it’s okay to script some kind of trauma or disorder? personally, I don’t see an issue with it since it doesn’t affect my life or anyone else’s, but i’d love to hear your perspective on this topic!

Oh, honey, you just brought up one of my favorite rant-worthy topics. Grab a snack because we’re diving in! 🍵✨

My ✨Personal✨ Take:

First, thank you for the love, darling! It’s always a vibe connecting with someone who actually gets it. 💅 Now, let’s talk trauma scripting, because whew, the discourse around this is hotter than Satan’s sauna.

Here’s the thing: your DR is YOURS. Period. Full stop. You can script a Disney princess life or the tragic backstory of a brooding anti-hero—it’s entirely up to you. If you want to script a life-altering trauma, go off, babe. As long as you understand what you’re doing, it’s valid.

Let’s debunk the idea that “scripting trauma is bad”: In your DR, you’re living that experience. It’s not just words on paper; it becomes your reality. So if scripting something intense—like losing a parent or battling a mental health condition—helps you process, heal, or simply add depth to your DR self, that’s your business. Trauma, when scripted thoughtfully, can even be therapeutic. For some, it’s about reclaiming control over a narrative that felt chaotic or unresolved in their CR.

But let’s be clear: this isn’t playtime. You will feel what you script. The loss, the grief, the psychotic depression? It will be as real in your DR as it is for someone who’s endured it in their CR. So, if you’re scripting trauma for kicks or because you think it’s “dramatic,” you might want to take a hard look at your intentions.

The Fanfic Shifters Rant (Aka I Hate These Hoes):

Now let me pop off on these Shiftok clowns for a second. 😤 You know exactly the ones I’m talking about: the “everything’s just a quirky little fanfic” crew who waltz into shifting spaces treating their DRs like a bad Wattpad draft.

These hoes (yes, HOES) script trauma the way they’d order a pumpkin spice latte—casually, without thinking. “Oh, I’ll just throw in some childhood abandonment and sprinkle in an abusive relationship for ✨character development✨.” Like, are you dumb? Trauma isn’t a fucking aesthetic. It’s not “flavor” for your DR backstory.

When these people romanticize trauma, they trivialize the pain that real survivors experience. And worse? They make the whole shifting community look like a joke. Imagine someone who’s genuinely trying to use their DR to heal from their CR trauma stumbling upon one of these idiots? Embarrassing. I hate these hoes with the fiery passion of a thousand suns. They treat shifting like a sandbox where nothing matters and then complain when they end up spiraling in their DR because “oops, I didn’t realize depression would feel like that.” 🤡

I cannot stress this enough: your DR isn’t a fanfic. It’s your LIFE. You’ll live it, breathe it, feel it—all of it. If you’re not prepared to shoulder the weight of the trauma you’re scripting, don’t do it. And if you’re scripting trauma because you think it’s cute or cool? Stay far, far away from me. You’re not just irresponsible—you’re dangerous.

TL;DR (But Make It Iconic):

Scripting trauma is okay—as long as you’re doing it with intention and understanding the consequences.

Don’t treat trauma like it’s a quirky little accessory for your DR backstory. It’s serious, babe. Respect it.

To the fanfic shifters romanticizing trauma: I hate you hoes. Y’all are the reason people side-eye our entire community. Fix it.

Remember, shifting is about creating your dream life, not trivializing the experiences of others or glorifying pain you’ve never lived. Be mindful, stay informed, and, most importantly, don’t be a clown. 🤡✨

[jaepen]

that’s why he my man! (part one)

✩♬₊˚.ᝰ. 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧’ 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐈 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐦

/ᐠ˵- ᴗ -˵マ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 note: hello everyone! i hope you like this drabble, this song is living rent free in my mind right now, so enjoy♡! not edited nor proofread!

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 ... enha!hyung line x romantic tropes x reader

𝐭𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐜: 𝟐𝟎𝟒𝟐; 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫: 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐) ‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹

𝐋.𝐇𝐒 희승’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞: 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝. (𝟓𝟏𝟑)

I’m just tryna hear you say my name, love to play your ruler, be your Jane, you could be my Tarzan, toss me up, other hoes is lacking, call me up

Halloween, the one holiday where any individual can be anyone and anything they want to be. Not to say that there is or is no judgment to what individual is going to be for Halloween, but nonetheless, being someone else for a night could pay off. You were going to the infamous ENHA frat party, your boyfriend being a pledge, he got to invite a plus one, you his lovely girlfriend. The pledges had to do a costume roulette as part of their tasks to complete for initiation, and he got the gorilla. Naturally, when he told you that he was going to be a sexy gorilla, you rolled your eyes in judgment as he begged you to be his sexy zookeeper.

“Please Y/N, be my zookeeper to my gorilla-” “Why should I?”

“I’m so close to initiation, the boys like me and this couple’s costume will go great if you dress up with me.”

“Fine, but you owe me.”

Come night of the frat party, your boyfriend owed you more than anything. Dressing as a sexy zookeeper was not for the faint of heart, it was freezing, packed with drunk frat members, pledges, sorority girls, and more. In your tight shorts and thin top, you immediately rush inside, trying to find solace somewhere. Your boyfriend, suddenly nowhere to be found, ditched you. ‘Great,’ you thought, ‘what a gentleman.’

Maneuvering your way through the hordes of people, you find yourself in the kitchen with practically a whole liquor store supply of alcohol. Overwhelmed by the various options, you stood there in contemplation in which poison you should go for first. Heeseung, ENHA’s president, rolling in his Tarzan outfit, immediately sees you. His mouth rolls into a smirk, checking you out. Sauntering over, he loops an arm around you.

“What’s a girl like you doing around here without being served a drink?” Heeseung, moving his arms around you, makes a drink quickly in front of your eyes. Heeseung serves the drink with a devilish smile, and you return it with a small grin.

“Thank you…” “Heeseung, president of ENHA.”

“So, president of ENHA, what are you supposed to be?” You take a sip of his drink, humming at the sweet and sour combination of the drink he made.

“Tarzan,” he makes himself a drink, “and you?”

“Well my boyfriend,” Heeseung looks up, “is a pledge here and had this pledge costume roulette thing and ended up being a gorilla. So, I guess as a good girlfriend I am his sexy zookeeper.”

“Sexy zookeeper huh? Aren’t you supposed to be keeping your animal in check then?” Heeseung walks back next to you, continuing to admire you.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, isn’t that your boyfriend right there?” he points to the corner, with your boyfriend slobbered over another girl.

“Well,” you pour yourself a shot, “I guess I don’t have a boyfriend anymore.”

“That’s ok, want to be my Jane to my Tarzan?”

“I just met you,” you teased.

“Well I don’t bite, sometimes,” he smirked, “let’s go have some fun.”

𝐏.𝐉𝐒 제이’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞: 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞. (𝟓𝟓𝟔)

You kinda cute, but play too much, don’t play yourself, I’m not the one, but we can still pretend this can be my man woman

“Jongseong!” you singsong. Jay looks at you with mixed fear and grimace, not ready to anticipate the torture.

You skipped over to his lunch table, where him and his other friends are sitting. Sunghoon, Heeseung, Jake, and Niki are all watching amusingly at the sight, seeing their best friend squirm under the sights of his alleged “most hated person on earth.”

“Hello boys,” you circled around and stopped behind Jay, “Guess what I got for today?”

The boys, super excited for their small treat that they get for the day, sat up straight. Jay glares at all of their eager selves, disappointed by their lack of loyalty.

“Did you make cookies-” “Is it cake? I love your tiramisu-“ “Oh oh! Is it brownies-“ “Is it-“ “Guys!” Jay yelled, “let the girl talk.”

You instantly smiled and warmed up to his cold demeanor, pulling out your sweet treat of the day: strawberry shortcake. You pass the boys a neatly, cute packaged strawberry shortcake. The boys immediately tear open the package and dig in like heathens. You inwardly cringed at their behavior, but you rationalize that boys will be boys.

“Do you guys like it?” you asked nervously, looking over to see everyone but Jay eating your sweet treat.

The boys nodded happily, clear enjoyment evident in their facial expressions. You deflated as your eyes landed on Jay, seeing your sweet treat untouched.

“Jay, are you going to try the shortcake?” “No.”

“Why aren’t you going-” “I don’t want to try another disgusting treat of yours.”

Taken aback from his statement, your eyes start to well up. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction, so you immediately wipe your tears and put a smile on your face.

“That’s alright, you can give it to one of the boys since they like it so much,” you hurriedly put out two more, not wanting to stay there longer, “Make sure to give these to Sunoo and Wonnie for me?”

You didn’t want to attempt hearing another rejection, immediately fleeing away from embarrassment.

“Seong, don’t you think you were a little harsh?” Heeseung went over and flicked his forehead hard.

“Asshole,” Jay whined, rubbing the spot, “I just wanted her to stop giving the stupid treats, she’s playing herself.”

“Hyung, you don’t think she’s a little cute? She always brings all of us sweet treats, not just you,” Sunghoon munched on the last remains of the shortcake. Jay stays silent at Sunghoon’s question.

“Hey, if you don’t want that shortcake, I’ll tak-” “No.”

Jake whines at Jay’s answer, “You’re not even going to eat it, so why waste it?”

“I’ll eat it,” he mumbles. “What? Couldn’t hear you there hyung,” Niki teases.

“I’ll eat it fucker,” Jay says louder, rolling his eyes and opening the shortcake. 

Jay, taking a small bite of the shortcake, increased his bites of the shortcake until the package was pristine. The boys, smirking at his behavior, immediately started flicking his forehead, one by one.

“Alright, alright, stop hitting my forehead, my knowledge is valuable,” Jay hides his forehead, “I’ll go apologize.”

“Yeah confess to your girl Seong, stop playing hard to get,” “Get your woman hyung,” “She’s not my woman guys.”

Jay gets up from the table and leaves in pursuit of finding you, ready to apologize and stop pretending about his cute little shortcake.

𝐒.𝐉𝐘 제이크’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞: 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝! (𝟒𝟗𝟖)

Know my baby packing, why I’m stuck, that’s why he my man, young and he fine and he tall and he handsome, talkin’ so fine, I might hold it for ransom, put in drive, I’m not shy, I might let ya, cruise all night

You and your boyfriend Jake decided to take a romantic getaway to Jeju Island the moment you both saw a free week on both of your calendars. It was rare for both you and Jake to be free at the same time. Common enough for a couple of hours, uncommon for one day, somewhat rare for a couple, and extremely rare for a whole week. Your time with Jake in juju has been nothing short of bliss. Nature hikes, swimming and seashore walking, and eating delicious comfort Jeju native dishes, you couldn’t have asked for a better vacation with your boyfriend. Currently at the beach, you were currently sitting with Jake and scrolling through TikTok. You come across this TikTok of a couple singing to SZA’s new song ‘BMF,’ and the girl pranks her boyfriend by shaking her head and making an X with her arms when it mentions that the man is tall. You immediately got an idea, and giggled.

“Yun, can you-“ “You are so pretty.”

You give him a deadpanned look as his sparkling eyes are staring at you with complete admiration.

“Jake.”

“Not my name.”

“Jak-“

“My baby knows better than to call me by my other government name,” he states with a finger pointed up.

“Baby,” “Better,” he piqued, “Can you do me two small favors?”

“What do you mean by small,” he narrows his eyes.

“Yes or no Yunnie,” you emphasized.

“Yes, my love,” he reluctantly agreed.

“Can you lotion my back while I film a small TikTok? As a memory of our once in a lifetime, non-calendar colliding, romantic-“

Jake pecks your lips, effectively shutting you up. You, flustered, playfully smack his chest and shift your body in the chair. Setting up the camera to see you and Jake, you tried to not giggle at the anticipation ahead of you. Giving Jake the bottle of sunscreen, it was go time. Turning the sound up, you press record. You lip sync to the lyrics, and Jake immediately looks up and gives you that boyish smile you fell in love with. As the lyrics ‘he tall’ comes up, you stopped lip-syncing and shook your head and crossed your arms into an X shape. Jake’s face immediately dropped. You immediately laugh as you continue to lip sync the lyrics.

“Hey!” He stops putting sunscreen on your back, “I’m taller than you! I am technically average male height if you must know baby.”

The video stops recording as you are laughing to a point where it becomes wheezing, still humored by Jake’s reaction.

“Stop laughing,” he whines, “or I’m going to lift you with my packing body and drop you into the ocean.”

“You wouldn’t.” “I would.”

“Fine, I guess I won’t make it up to you tonight then-“

“Alright, I surrender,” he says immediately, putting his hands up, “so what are we doing tonight?” Jake, wriggling his eyebrows, giving you the same look of admiration as he did earlier.

“We’re cruising all night baby.”

𝐏.𝐒𝐇 성훈’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞: 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮? (𝟒𝟕𝟓)

Young and fine and dark and handsome, the boy from South of somewhere came walking in, I can’t keep my panties from dropping, he’s so fly, fly

Being the top student at the school was no feat. You worked hard to get where you are, and you were the school’s top academic weapon. Until Park Sunghoon came along. You were nose deep into your books, waiting for the next period to start. You heard whispers around you, growing by the minute.

“Have you heard about the new exchange student?” “Yeah, I heard that he’s young, fine, and handsome.” “Did you know he came from South…” “He’s definitely out of your league!”

You tuned these whispers out the best you could. It was hard. The whispers continued to grow and eventually turned into chairs scraping and fangirl squeals. Agitated, you looked up from your textbook to see your whole class pushing themselves against the classroom windows. Getting up, you wanted to know what all the commotion was about, and you immediately regret it.

Walked in Park Sunghoon, the new exchange student at your school. You rolled your eyes as girls around you were blushing and trying to get his attention. Sunghoon walked down the halls, marveling in all the attention he got from everyone. He flashed his smile left and right, waving around. His friends, Sunoo and Jake are next to him, helping him adjust to the second week of school. Sunghoon’s eyes land on you, interested in how you out of everyone is not wanting to swarm on him.

“Hey you,” he called out, pointing at you.

Annoyed at his action, you immediately turn your back on him and head back to your desk. Sunghoon, shocked by your cold and distasteful response, walks into your classroom and spots you at your desk reading. Sunghoon pulls up a desk chair and sits in front of you. Not saying anything, he starts poking you, repeatedly.

“Hey will you cut it out,” glaring at him, not knowing why he won’t leave you alone.

He looks at you intently, pausing his poking for a couple of seconds before continuing.

“Cut it out,” you gritted your teeth, staring at him to stop.

“What’s your name?” “What?”

Sunghoon grabs your face and squishes your cheeks with his big hands. He moves your face to lock in with his eyes, boring into your very existence. You start to feel warm, picking out the small details of his face. He wasn’t bad looking, per say, annoying, but hot.

You moved your face out of his grasp, smoothing out your cheeks. Going back to your textbook, you phase out his presence.

“My name is Y/N.”

“Y/N huh,” he smirks, “want to go on a date with me?”

Eyes bulging out of your head, you immediately looked up at him with your ears and cheeks flushed with red.

“No.”

“You won’t be saying that soon,” he gets up from the desk chair, “see you later princess.”

Oh, you’re in trouble.

thanks for reading, i appreciate any feedback as i am still kind of getting back into fanfiction writing!

part 2 for maknae line coming very soon, stay tuned ദ്ദി（• ˕ •マ.ᐟ!

[eldritch-spouse]

I’m hanging out in the sloth ring, on the phone quietly with a friend or something, nobody is paying me much attention so I don’t mind having a bit of a scandalous conversation in public:

“- look I adore somnophilia, I really do, but in practicality it doesn’t work. I wake up far too easily,”

Conversation moves on to other kinks or related topics, me not paying to much attention to who just overheard me.

[I don't exactly know if you were aiming at anyone here, so I rolled the dice.]

Sloth is a quiet Ring.

The lights are dimmed, sounds are muted, movement comes in bursts then settles, even the sky in this part of Hell appears darker to keep its residents sedated. And, sure enough, even a human like you feels tired, for no apparent reason, in the grounds of the slothful.

Precisely because of how quiet and still everything is, foreigners assume that they're safe, that no one is giving them an ounce of scrutiny and there's hardly a need to watch themselves.

Any good prey knows that the absence of sound is trouble.

Closed eyes and softly rising chests don't mean anything. The streets are lively, you just can't tell.

Absorbed in conversation, you've been walking gradually slower, until you all but halted in the middle of the sidewalk. Sloth expects people to want to lay down just about anywhere, so you had a seat waiting for you.

Little did you know, you were right in front of a demoness' hair salon.

Lucidia takes her time to work, she'll admit it, but the benefit of such is that she can put her professional perfectionism in front of everything, the knowledge of her success helping her through the sludge that is cleaning up after a client. She'd been sweeping snipped hair off the floor when she noticed you out front.

You talk loudly. Foreigners always do. Shamelessly too. The woman subtly evaluates you from top to bottom.

It's impossible to tell, but Luci assumes you're here to visit someone, everything about you screams 'excited to be here'. You're decently dressed, and when you turn your head around a bit, she finds beautiful features on a human complexion. It's a shame that, having such natural beauty, you walk around with such lackluster hair.

The demoness blinks when the topic of your conversation becomes increasingly obscene. She's sure the neighboring businesses are hearing this too.

Somnophilia...? Someone's going to approach you sooner or later. You're dumb.

Did you come here for the experience? Because your surfacer bedfriends can't do it properly? You certainly sound frustrated about it. Lucidia murmurs to herself that this could be a trap, that you're intentionally baiting slothfolk to come onto you because you know they can keep you under, they can make your fantasy a reality.

But even then, you're so ignorant.

What makes you think they'd stop at touching you in your sleep? What makes you think they'd have any reason to let go of you when you're at your most vulnerable? You could never wake up again, if they wanted to feed off you for as long as possible. The number of horrid things that could happen to someone as airheaded as you if you were to fall into opportunistic hands is endless.

Your conversation seems to die out when another demon exits a store from across the street, staring at you knowingly.

Luci doesn't realize she's moving until she's nearly fogging the hair salon window, glowering wordlessly behind you, at the other stranger. Adrenaline irritates her, she likes to avoid it, but the woman definitely feels her heart hammer in her chest at the thought of someone coming over and trying to mess with you.

They seem to get the message, looking between you and her, then hurrying down the street.

Lucidia sighs almost gutturally, and decides you can't be outside for much longer.

The demoness may be tall, yet her footsteps are near soundless. She settles beside you casually on the sidewalk, getting to stare you over again for several moments until you take note of the shadow suddenly cast onto you.

" Hello... " She greets softly and quietly when you appear to startle. " Do you want to sit... Inside? "

While you hesitate to answer, Luci can almost see the sweat starting to form on your forehead.

" ... It'll get dark soon. Things'll... Pick up. "

You don't respond again, some lost 'hum's and 'ha's escaping.

" Your conversation... I heard it. " She doesn't bother to hide a small smile when you pale a couple shades. " So did the whole street... If I had to guess. "

" Oh God- " You murmur under your breath.

" ... Let me style your hair. " She daringly suggests, threading a long-fingered hand through locks of it. " I won't let anyone bother you... "

Anyone but herself, naturally.

If you just so happened to doze off while Lucidia carefully shapes your hair, then who is she not to give you just a little taste of what you so shamelessly crave?

There's no hiding the rumbles of satisfaction when you nod quickly and let her lead you into the hair salon, the chime of a little bell signaling Luci's victory.

[lavellansvh3nan]

A Letter From Inquisitor Lavellan to Dorian Pavus

//OOC//: Hello again! These letters won’t leave my brain so I’m churning them out while the muse is there. Enjoy!

My friend,

I can practically see you brooding, you know. Which is your right and your past-time, by my count.

I won’t sit here and try to make excuses for my choices, there are no good ones anyway. I want you to know that no matter what, I never meant to hurt you. But that doesn’t make you less angry with me.

Perhaps I’ve caught you in a more benevolent mood, willing to hear me out. If Bull is near you when you read this letter, remind him that he owes me one. Or more likely you’ll crumple up this letter, probably set it on fire, and only spare a thought for me when you’re telling embellished stories around a gorgeous dining table. Either way, you are owed an explanation.

I remember when you told me of your intentions to try and change Tevinter. I was so proud of you, because I knew if anyone could make change in their home, it was you. The idea of watching my friend leave, knowing that it would be unlikely we’d see each other more than a handful of times among the years, was difficult to swallow. Especially after all you did to bring me back to life when Solas left.

You can say his name, you know. He isn’t going to appear around a corner and lunge at you. I’ve made him promise not to.

What you did for me in the months following his departure is a debt I’ll never be able to repay. I’ve known the love of a mother, a father, a lover, and a friend, but perhaps yours exceeds all of them. For yours is a loyalty, a steadfastness, a patience, that only comes with knowing someone completely and choosing to be with them in their dark moments.

Bathing me when I was covered in paint. Filling the endless silence of my despair with your constant prattle, being with me every single day I didn’t know what to do or how to move forward, it is a love I had never experienced or will ever experience again. It is unique to you.

When I finally came back to myself all those months later, realized you’d put your plans on hold for me, I was appalled. I assured you I would be fine and you finally went on your way. To start the life I knew you deserved. And look at all you’ve done! Minrathos and the Shadow Dragons would be nothing without your leadership.

I’ve spent the last eight years wondering what I would ever do if the chance came to see Solas again. In those first years, I was angry. And then I was lost, for a long time, though I think you were the only one who truly saw it.

Being the Inquisitor gave me purpose. I knew Thedas needed me. I wanted to help in whatever way I could, especially considering we’d inadvertently unleashed Solas on the world. And then there was the waiting, wondering when he’d strike. If he really intended to take us all down with him.

Over the years, I’ve spoken to so many about whether or not I believe Solas capable of tearing down the Veil. You, Bull, half the Inquisition, really. Most everyone agreed that Solas needed to be stopped by any means necessary. That he was a monster.

What was your poetic phrase? “A madman with the moral superiority of a guilty noble.”

Varric was the only one who believed Solas could be swayed. Told me that really, all Solas wanted was a reason not to go through with his plan. After what happened when Solas took my arm, I didn’t want to believe him. It was too painful to hope.

But then the reports came in, bit by bit from Varric. Noted from Solas, personal journals. Like he was leaving clues for us to find. As if his pride refused to relent but Solas, my vhenan, wanted us to stop him.

It wasn’t until I spoke with Rook, actually, that I knew for certain that if I saw him again, when I saw him again, things weren’t through between us.

Call it soulmates. Call it a connection through space and time. Or, call me a fool, as you already have. All are probably correct. But I’ve know since the moment I met Solas that something tied me to him. When I saw him again, I didn’t see the Dread Wolf. I saw my vhenan, beaten and broken and tired. Drowning in his regrets, a slave to what he thought was his journey to redemption. And in that moment, I swore Varric was standing there right beside me, telling me that the one thing that would sway Solas was love. And he was right.

Especially after his final encounter with Mythal (That is another letter entirely. One I know you’re dying to read, so if nothing else, allow me to indulge you in my next response)

To be perfectly clear— I do not love him more than you. I could love no one more than you. No matter where I go, I’ll be with you. Just as you told me when you returned to Tevinter. But it is different. Just as you have Iron Bull, and we both know logic has no place in your relationship with him.

*the last sentence is a crossed out line, still legible, as though Lavellan is teasing Dorian*

Now, this isn’t goodbye. This isn’t even see you later. Solas has assured me I can enter and leave the Fade whenever I choose. Thanks to Rook, there are plenty of Eluvians available for me to come and visit. If you’ll have me. I understand you plan to pout, to hate me for a few weeks, as is your right. Don’t brood too long, however. I know you’re chomping at the bit to know all that’s transpired.

Just know, I’ll never be far from you.

With love, always,

Elliana

[platinumink]

Headcanon Vol.2: Odysseus had unruly hair in his youth but grew out of it but Telemachus now has to deal with it and Ody helps his son and it all ends in a beautiful hurt/comfort moment

Not as good as my other headcanons for this fandom but I really do think about situations where Telemachus is just struggling to tidy his hair which is just going crazy all of the time and is about to give up when Odysseus strolls into the bathing area and notices his sons struggles.

Not wanting to embarrass him any further after the whole clothes stealing shenanigans, he simply nods in hello and does his thing with cleaning himself. When he's done, he notices that Telemachus is still not any closer to figuring out his hair so he comes over and mentions how he also had impossible-to-deal-with hair and age and growing it out (the added weight) helped with it's upkeep but he did have some tricks he learned to aid the issue.

So he tells his son about it who becomes completely enraptured in the story, not wanting to miss a single word his dad tells him. Telemachus asks for tips and Ody asks if it would be okay to show him and his son agrees.

Ody spends the next hour ir so explaining hair care for curly hair to his son, going over herb tinctures and oils he can use to make his hair submit to his will without damaging it as well as special brushes and movements that help with detangling and finally braids that help with the right curl forming overnight. It becomes a whole thing with them and even though Telemachus gets the hang of it very quickly, he keeps on asking his dad to do it for him and Ody is bever going to decline because quality time with his dearly missed son is everything to him.

So during their hair care moments, they talk about each others days, what they were going to do the day after and eventually, Ody feels confortable enough to confide in his son as well about his Odyssey (hehe) and they things he went through and had to do and Telemachus is then there for him, reassuring him and comforting him as well.

Eventually Telemachus does his dads hair as well so they can spend even more time together.

Penelope does know about this because of course Ody had to tell her all about how much he loves his son and how much he enjoys their new father son bonding moments, but one day, when she enters the bathing area earlier than usual, she sees the two of them and observes their little time together. She does not intervene because while she also loves her son deeply, she will allow her husband to have this time for himself to catch up on all of the lost time.

I also imagine their time together always ends with them touching foreheads (because I am a sucker for those between parents and their kids), hugging and Ody kissing his sons hair. They then always leave the baths together before Telemachus artives at his room first where they hug again and wish each other a restful night and then Ody leaves fir his own room and lies down beside his wife, talks with her just as long about their days and then they fall asleep in each others arms thoigh Odys head is 100% on Penelopes chest to hear her heartbeat because he has still trauma from Calypsos bullshit and needs it to convince himself that he is home.

He then sleeps, thinking about his family.

And now i've brough myself to tears yet again. 😭🩵

Also if anyone wants to write or draw something with this, you of course have my full permission. Just tag me please, I want to say thank you and admire your work 😭🙏🏻🩵

[desultory-suggestions]

"It gets better for everyone!" is a insultingly naïve mindset born from luck and having correct circumstances. It factually does not magically ""get better"" for everyone, but people like you get LUCKY and deem that its that way for everyone else, without reflecting that in another life it could have just as easily been different. Are you really going to tell people who have no support system, are in poverty "don't worry because it's JUST your depression making you sad silly!!!". I work with people everyday who have no family, no friends, and can't even begin to dig themselves out of that hole, but I'll make sure to pass on that a 20 year old tumblr user said to "decorate their bedroom" and it'd set them on the fast track to getting better :).

Hello,

I hear what you are saying, and it is clear from your words that you like so many of us have and continue to deal with the incredibly real systemic, chronic, or inherent issues that can make like so exhausting. Most mail like this is sent in the heat of emotional pressure and pain, and I hope whatever it is you are feeling now can be addressed in a meaningful way that supports you.

I thought about giving an answer to this, but it seems obvious to me (and I'd hope to anyone who follows me) that this just doesn't make sense to argue. This blog has never advocated that mental illness or suffering are "silly" or easily fixable, and I have talked candidly and often about how systemic oppression is causing so much of the suffering we are told is all in our heads. I have even talked candidly about how my upbringing, adverse experiences, and struggles with discrimination have effected me.

While many can benefit from the kind of content I share (which is less dense than it used to be, fair!) many will not. Even those who do benefit will still need meaningful help addressing real issues like housing, food, safety, community, etc. Those of us who are able to stop and enjoy a simpler positive post are privileged to do so, and we shouldn't forget that. It doesn't mean we cannot enjoy, support, create, or rely on this kind of content. We all respond to different things, and I know first hand this blog has helped many people. However, we must be conscious of how we can take action to support those around us who need it the most, who are struggling with being unhoused, unfed, unwelcome, unloved.

I am sorry that whatever post you saw sparked so much frustration for you, but I think you already know that not everything is for everyone. Some people are helped by the "little things" and that is wonderful. Of course it never has and never will mean we should ignore the big ones.

Best,

Evan

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 58: It Hurts

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

Throughout the never-ending day I anxiously wait to hear the phone ring. When it finally does I snatch it up and prepare for the worst.

“Hello?”

“Verena! It’s Liam. We did it.”

I clutch my chest in relief. “No one was hurt?”

“Well, Mr. Changretta is much less alive than he was an hour ago,” Liam jokes lightly. “But no. No one was hurt. Your boss is fine and Arthur’s back. We’re all meeting for dinner in war-wic-chester.”

I hang my head to quit from laughing. “You mean Warwickshire? At Arrow House?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Your boss said to bring his boy with you.”

“I will do that. Tot ziens.”

“Tot ziens.”

It’s over. The vendetta is over. Charlie and Thomas can go back to Arrow House and no one has to keep looking over their shoulder for assassins. 

“Charlie!” I call down the hall and the schavuit comes running. “Get ready to go! You’re going home!”

He bolts to Thomas’ room and we both put together his bag. It makes me wonder if Thomas will actually try to spend time with him or if the servants will be the ones to entertain Charlie. We pack up my car and begin our journey north. I’ll call Uncle Colon later to ship the Bentley over to Brooklyn. It makes me guilty to think such a thing but I am not going to let Thomas’ gift go to waste.

“Do you really have to go?” Charlie whines from the backseat.

My grip on the wheel tightens. “I’m really sorry, Charlie. One day you might understand why. I will come by and visit sometime, I promise.”

Darkness falls by the time I pull into the driveway. Arrow House’s windows gleam warmly ahead and Charlie stares wide-eyed as we get closer. Outside I see Ada waiting for me.

“Hello, Charlie!” She greets as the young boy hops out and races for the door. “Your daddy’s waiting inside!” 

Ada doesn’t follow him and lingers next to me as I start to gather Charlie’s things from the trunk. Please, Ada. Not now. Let me have this night of relief with everyone and then I am gone. 

“I’m sailing over next week. You’re not waiting until then?”

I clench my jaw. “No, Ada. There’s no use stretching it out. I am not arguing it any further so please drop it.”

Ada groans and gently slaps her forehead. “Tell him! Tell him you love him! I’ll slap it into him if I have to!”

“No, Ada,” I retort firmly with a warning finger. “Just drop it. He goes for any other woman but me. Grace, May, Lizzie. Anyone else. He knocked up Lizzie, so now he will be attentive to her.”

Ada wants to say more but instead bites her lip and helps me carry the bags inside. Everyone’s sitting in the parlor while servants pass around enticing drinks. Charlie and Karl are off to the side playing. 

“Arthur!” I gasp when I see the familiar Shelby broer. “It’s so good to see you!”

He grins and raises a glass. “I’m still alive and kicking, Steenstra!”

Meanwhile my own broer sits next to Uncle Charlie and Johnny Doggs, no doubt hearing some very wild stories. Finn’s chatting with Bonnie and Isiah. Polly and Aberama seem to have grown on each other. Linda looks to have calmed down and Ada sends her own discrete message to me by passing me my own drink. The only one who is still bothered by my presence is Lizzie. Due to the pregnancy I hope she’s not drinking.

I hear footsteps enter the room and I don’t need to turn around to know it’s Thomas. The music is silenced and everyone turns to address him. Instead I choose to stare down at my glass of brandy.

“Oi! Before we eat, I’d like to say a few words,” Thomas addresses. “Last time we were all here, it ended badly. But now we’re in a happier place.” Thomas cuts it off and raises his glass. “That’s it, I’d just like to raise a toast.”

“Hold on.” Arthur holds up a hand and looks around at everyone as he sits up. “There’s a few words I’d like to say from the heart. And this time, you’re gonna let me finish, Tommy.”

His brother obliged, keeping his mouth shut for once. 

“As you all know, Arthur Shelby is dead. Because of that, Tommy’s offered me a way out. A new identity. Start a whole new life.”

Linda will like that very much. If Thomas offered this to his broer then there is no excuse why he should object to my own choice to leave.

“I’ve thought about it. Made a decision.” A smile slowly grows on Arthur’s face. “I ain’t fucking going nowhere.”

Some cheers echo throughout the room and others sit in silence. Thomas included. Alright, Arthur. You can keep yourself in this lifestyle. But don’t say that things will ever stay calm.

Arthur puts a foot on the coffee table and gestures to all of us. “Our enemies are dead, all of ‘em. I’d like to make a proposal that all of you, the Shelby Company Limited, insist that Tommy here takes some time off. Time you took a holiday, Tom. War’s over.” He raises his whiskey. “To peace.”

“To peace,” almost everyone echoes.

Thomas stays quiet and doesn’t make a move to drink. The same sadness from yesterday still paints his face. Oh, yes. Lizzie will adore it if he takes time off. She’s already smiling about it. Congratu-fucking-lations, Thomas.

Liam locks eyes with me across the room and he signals for the door. I give a quick nod and Liam gives the thumbs up. He stands up and we both start to take our leave-

“Verena, wait.”

Polly takes my hand and pulls me away into the kitchen. Not her too! Why can’t anyone just let me leave with peace and dignity?!

“I know I’ve been distant and I’m sorry.” She pulls out two chairs from the table and we both sit down. “Between my blasted headaches, Linda’s complaining, and Lizzie’s new pregnancy, I didn’t stop to think about how you pulled through this. How you stayed put together.”

I take another sip of my drink. “It’s fine. ‘S not the first time I had to travel alone.”

Polly shakes her head. “No, it’s not fine. Here. Let me read your future.”

She reaches for my hand despite my inner voice telling me to go. The kind woman means well and it brings me joy to talk with her again. But it’s too late now.

“Polly, I appreciate the thought, but the only premonition I expect to receive is from God.”

“And He will present it to me to give to you,” Polly insists. “Let’s see… Oh my.”

From the way she says that I can’t tell what whatever she sees is supposed to be. Good or bad? At this point I’ve lost enthusiasm.

“That dull? No surprise.” I push my chair out and start to leave. “Now please excuse me-”

“Verena. This is serious.” Polly keeps a grip on my hand.

I shoot her a look. “I’m not pregnant too, am I?”

She purses her lips at my bold remark. “No. It’s something else.”

I gulp down the rest of the brandy. “Does it mean life or death?”

Polly’s mouth presses into a line. “No.”

“Then I will wait for it.”

I pull away and march back to the hallway. 

“Your stubbornness to avoid challenging news makes you deaf,” Polly calls after me. “You cannot run away from this, Verena.”

Probably not. But I’m not waiting around here to find out. I ignore Polly’s premonition and walk up to Liam, who’s waiting impatiently by the door.

“Ready? If we get to the docks by morning-”

“Oi! Wait just a minute.”

No. No. No! I hear Thomas walk up behind me and he starts leading me into his office. Can’t Thomas take a fucking hint and see that I need to leave?!

“If you’re gonna be a while I’m having another drink!” Liam calls before I enter the office.

I might need one myself after this. Thomas shuts the door behind us and when I look up to face him there’s something in his eyes that makes me even more uneasy. Why does he have to look so good in that suit? I don’t know if I want to punch his lights out or- Damn it, Verena! Stop thinking about when you walked in on him in the bath!

“It’s settled. Michael and Ada will accompany you back to America. There you will help negotiate peace between us Englishmen and the Italians from Chicago.”

I squeeze against the wall as Thomas slowly walks past me to his desk. He pulls out a bottle and pours two whiskeys. Is that it? A quick goodbye and a drink for the road? Maybe I don’t have to worry so much after all. 

“And you? You’re finally going to rest?” I ask with raised eyebrows. “You’ve been carrying the world on your shoulders. Do as Arthur says, take some time off.”

Don’t think so crossly, Verena. Let him have this. Thomas deserves to have a halfway-normal life with his family. You can live out the rest of your life comforted by yours.

“And when I say time off, I mean it. No paperwork, no phone calls. You need to relax without working. Please tell me you’ll try to relax.”

At first Thomas waves it off but then wants to argue. “Verena-”

“Answer me.”

“Yes, love.” He gives in and hands me my drink. “Anything I can do for you, anything, just let me know.”

I take a swig and try to let the alcohol soothe me. “Alright, then. Spend more time with Charlie. He misses you. And remember to care for your new daughter.”

That’s all I can ask for now. If I can’t have Thomas’ love then I will see to it that his children do. Even if I have to order him to.

“We’re calling her Ruby. Ruby Shelby,” Thomas sighs and takes a sip of his own drink.

“That’s a pretty name. She’ll be a lovely girl.” 

Now Lizzie will probably take over and become Charlie's new mum. I’ve never seen her work well with kids but maybe she’ll change? I just hope she doesn’t prize her own child over Charlie.

“That’s all?”

I freeze. Those words. Those Goddamn words. The same ones I forced myself to ignore before Thomas went back to Grace. All of this could have been different if I hadn’t been so fucking quiet. 

“That is all, Mr. Shelby,” I stutter and regain a firm tone. “Enjoy your holiday.”

Get out get out get out! I put down the glass and pace to the door before any tears can form. Get out get out-

“If you have something to say then say it.”

Fuck. He’s not falling for it now. Thomas isn’t thick enough to ignore it again. He knows I’m not saying everything. Can’t he just let me go? Can’t he see I’m doing this to let him be happy? To save myself from any more heartbreak?

Still frozen midstep, I take a deep breath. “Actions speak louder than words. My neglect to object is my way of saying I want you to be happy.”

In the corner of my eye Thomas walks closer. I feel him grab my shoulders, turning me around to face him. His icy blue eyes stare me down and my heart seizes with fear. There’s that look again. Like he knows I’m hiding something. 

“And by that, would you say that you love me?” He whispers softly. “Look at me, love. Look at me. With God as your witness, look at me and tell me you don’t love me.”

His gentle tone paired with the tender yet heartless question leaves my mind crashing.

“Thomas. Please…”

“Say it.”

I shake my head to look away and hide the forming tears. “Don’t do this to me-”

“It’ll be quick and painless.” Thomas cups my shaking face. “Say it.”

“I- I… Oh Thomas!”

My body collapses and I fall back against the wall, turning away so I can hide my shame. Jesus, why is he doing this?!

“You can’t, can you?” I hear him ask. “‘Cause then you’d be lying.”

Snap! Something tugs in my brain and in a split second my jumbled nerves are replaced by ignited anger. I whip my head around to glare at Thomas’ blank, dumbass face with a look moeder would be proud of.

“Stop tormenting me! I can’t keep this up. I am not going to sob here like a pathetic child and listen to you belittle my heart any further!” I storm up to him and back him against the desk. “You might think that pushing me aside will spare my feelings. Well, the honest truth is it hurts, Thomas. It really hurts me to be treated like this. That is why I am no longer going to work from Birmingham.”

Thomas, still gaping at me with shock and fear painted on his face, stays silent as I march to the door. Happy now, Thomas? I’m probably one of the only women to ever walk away from you with this much dignity. How does it feel to be on the other end of shouting?

I tightly grip the door and give him one last glare. “Goodbye, Thomas.”

Thud!

The door slams and I strut down the hall, the clicking of my heels ringing throughout the house. If anyone else tries to stop me from leaving they’re going to be met with a first to their nose.

“Liam! We are leaving!” I bark, letting my voice echo through the house. “Now!”

My broer scrambles out of the parlor and meets me at the door.

“Finally ready? It’s really dark now and- Verena?” He does a double-take when he sees my tense face. “Zus? What’s wrong?”

“If I ever fall in love again, you have my full permission to give me a smack on the head,” I answer sternly as we step into the bitter wind outside.

Though I put aside my heart for you, Thomas Shelby, I am still human. I’m sorry, Grace. I will not be able to keep my promise to take care of them. It’s up to Lizzie now.

@meadows5

[amaya-143]

hello. part two of me ranting about the fear of memory loss in isat. is it that obvious i have autism?

part one was about the kings fear of forgetting. Go read. *clicks my fingers like a cat* go.

disclaimer not a psychiatrist blahh blahhhh u get the idea :p king rant was long, this will be longer. maybe one singular person is as normal as i am about this game and will enjoy. otherwise at least its out of my system and into words

So yeah, the king is afraid of forgetting. Siffrin, however, is afraid of being forgotten.

Siffrin, is late 20s, and just like the king lost the majority of their memories to the island.The people they loved, all that jazz i don't need to write the cinematics again. They too end up in an unfamiliar place, however they end up a rouge. They travel from city to city, never staying anywhere solid, never making any real connections for years (at least as far as we know.) To him, he is just a guy* who lost everything that they knew, and that's that. No point if it'll just happen again. In fact im not even sure if they're aware they're from that island, since I'm pretty sure he learns it ingame. He just exists. Thats it. Their life doesn't matter, doesn't impact anyone. He is forgettable

But then, they meet Mira, Odile, and Isa. Then Bonnie, and when things couldn't get more confusing, he loses an eye for them. The party loves Siffrin, even if they never say it pregame. They appreciate him. And even if Frin doesn't think it directly, they definitely subconsciously believe it pregame. Otherwise, it wouldn't be such a shock when odile says they're colleagues at best. So how can Siffrin go back to his old life? A life on the go, with no connections, nothing but the millisecond bumps into strangers and polite conversations with the clerk at the hotel desk. Nobody to come home to, no one to ask how their day was.

Its like trying chocolate after eating coco beans all your life. Maybe you can tolerate going back to coco beans for a bit, but you'll never forget the chocolate. It'll be something you think about all the time, your thought before sleep takes you, as tiktok would say your 'roman empire'.

So Siffrin cannot let them go back home. He wishes to stay with them. and thus, the loops happen.But after a bit he, quote, 'understands the king more than he'd like to'

He refuses to be forgotten, to have to go back to that life. They've lived the span of their memories being so blindingly forgettable, now someone, some people see them and its so close in his grasp. Isabeau is so close to confessing to him. Mirabelle is so close to her full potential as a housemaiden. Odile is accepting she's more than her roots. And Bonnie, the kid he lost an eye for, disabling him permentantly, HUGGED them. a massive deal for a fella whos been living off small talk and avoiding eye contact for the last 10 years. Just one more loop, if they do it all right then just maybe..

Not here to talk abt the loops. moving on.

After all these people who love him, they don't wanna be forgotten. Trauma isn't just a factor in disorders. Trauma can, and often does create its own reactions. For a real world example, Children who grow up with absent parents often react with avoiding and distancing tendencies, where as children with emotionally unstable parents tend to grow to be anxiously attached to those they love. These aren't disorders, but they are a reaction to the trauma faced and ingraned. Frin's fear of being forgotten is just as much a trauma response as it is a result of the way he lives. Who knows how many people Siffrin forgot in the island. What's stopping him from being like them? What's stopping him from being so forgettable.

Side note, act 5 is next to the Sunny vs Basil fight as my favorite two scenes in games, especially when it comes to imagining/reading about them in other characters povs other than the mains. And bigfrin is my absolute joy in the world. not sorry.

But after loops n loops of trying to prevent it, hearing off handed comments about how bonnie hates them, and how isa will say i love you to anyone except him, Sif's self worth is at an all-time low. They just don't have it in them anymore. They cant do it. we're looking at months of living the same two days over and over. Same lines. Same people. Same events. Years, if you're an insane person who does like 500+ loops. I think most people did like 70-150 though. Siffrin has been reliving this for so long he's begun to find comfort in it. It feels safe. Its boring, its insufferable, yes, but its SAFE. After suffering all those months, they're leaving anyway. They are going home. They will go home and forget Sif and it will all be for nothing. When Odile stops them from looping back, they strike. Either at themselves, or those they love. They would literally rather attack those they've gone through months of suffering just to spend more time with, or attack themselves time after time till it kills them. They'd rather it than risk them all leaving and forgetting him. I don't really have much more to say i guess i just ugh

i love act 5 i love bigfrin and if theres any writers reading this write some act 5 from other party members pov and you will get the juciest kiss.

if you read all this way, congrats!! i diagnose you with autism 💜

*guy is used as a unisex. i know the correct term for siffrin is fella. i went to gender school.

[pixiekiwi]

Trust | Loki x Gn!Reader

Hello!!! It's been awhile ;) I just finally finished Loki S2 and I haddd to write something angsty, because apparently that is how I cope. I love Loki with all my being it might actually be unhealthy. Sooo requests are open!!! For any character on my ML. I finally got medicated so now I can actually complete projects? Crazy.

Master List

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Song Rec - Sailor Song, by Gigi Perez

Warnings: Angst, Season 2 Loki Spoilers, No use of Y/N, Gender Neutral Reader.

Desc: Loki’s internal struggle while knowing what the right thing to do is. But how can he leave you?

Words: 739

SPOILERS FOR LOKI S2 BELOW

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

What is it when people say, “Trust me,” that makes others immediately not want to trust them? 

Loki didn’t know, and he didn’t think he’d ever understand it, especially due to the title he carried. The God of Lies and Mischief. He wasn’t one deserving of trust. He had always refrained from asking people to 'trust him'.

However. 

The words came tumbling from his lips before he could think.

But, instead of laughing in his face at the pure absurdity of his ask. Your eyes softened. Your hands had reached for his face, brushing the sweaty hair away from his forehead. You had nodded.

You had given him your trust without a second thought.

“I trust you,” you had whispered, and his world stopped. It’s not like he hadn’t heard those words fall from your lips a thousand times before. But now, with zero explanation, zero communication, no promises, no plans, you had trusted him. 

From nothing you had trusted him. 

He felt like melting, your hands brushing against his forehead. He didn’t want to leave, he didn’t want to leave you living on without him. But he knew what he had to do, he knew that the only way you could exist was this. It was his last option. 

Trust him, he had tried.

“Don’t go where I cannot follow.” You had said to him, once, long ago, and now here he was. Going somewhere where your mortal soul could not follow. No matter what, he would be alone. He would be leaving you alone.

His hand found your hips, his forehead falling upon yours, “I love you, My Lady,” he whispered, his eyes closed, breathing your smell in. Absorbing your presence for as long as he could. And technically he could. He had spent the past few centuries trying his best to make it so you survived, where you survived together. Looping space and time for longer than he could even believe. But for you, it had only been a matter of minutes. He had the luxury of seeing your face for as long as he had wanted, as long as he desired. You only got to remember this version of him. This was the last version you would ever see.

His eyes snapped open, pulling his forehead away from yours, before leaning in to kiss you as his eyes fluttered shut once more. The kiss was slow, passionate, a final goodbye.

You had felt it, your hands going up and around his neck, pulling him closer than ever before. His hands moving from your hips to cup your cheeks gently. 

Loki’s heartbeat slowed as he finally pulled away, gazing into your eyes. Oh, your eyes. He hoped he would never forget the color.

“I love you Loki.” You had finally whispered back. You had tried to mask the sadness, the sorrow you felt. But he knew you better than that. He could hear the crack - the shattering, that happened within you in that exact moment.

It was almost impossible to look away, he studied every feature. He stared for so long he felt like he could see your soul in you, the way it pulled for him. He might just dissolve into your gaze, he’d never seen anyone look at him the way you were now. 

Mournful at the loss of him. 

So as he stepped back, he broke your gaze. In that moment Loki turned, and walked down the stars. 

Mobius and Slvyie noticed, both of them rushing the stairs, almost pushing your rigid form to the floor as you watched Loki's back move down the stairs. 

He couldn't turn back to you, if he did, he might turn back time for a millennia, just to see your face. To let things play out, over and over again.

Just for you. 

But that was selfish. Selfish of him to not let you experience time and space the way it was supposed to be played out. Live your life, the way you wanted it to be. It would be selfish of him to face you forever, while you only got mere seconds. 

He turned, seeing Mobius and Sylvie at the stairs, banging on the door for him, yelling for him to come back. Begging him that this was not right. 

“I know what kind of God I need to be.” 

And there he went, where you could not follow, but yet trusting him to do what he knew was right. 

You trusted him.

[pacifymebby]

I Just Ride // Chapter One

Danny's Girl

You listened with trembling fingers to the dial tone, the chirps of a phone ringing out at the other end of the line. You were barely holding back your sobs, you'd only managed to calm yourself down this much because you knew you would need to be able to get your words out if anyone answered the phone.

But nobody was answering the phone and you were running out of coins for the payphone. Running out of hope too.

"Hello?"

You gasped when you heard a mans low voice on the other end of the phone. You didn't know who he was, only that he wasn't Danny and it had been Danny you'd been desperately hoping would pick up the phone. Because there was no one on this earth you needed to hear, needed to see in this moment more than your Danny.

"Um... H... Hello.." you sniffled, "hi, is... Is d..."

"You alright sweetheart you ain't soundin very clear right now..." Said the man, he was speaking with a thoughtful kind of slowness, so calm it made you feel a little more calm yourself. It wasn't quite enough to quell your tears but it was enough to help you take another breath and speak slower, without stuttering.

"I need to speak to Danny... Is he, is he there? He told me if I needed to find him I should phone this number.."

"Oh," said the voice with a little sigh, "he did did he? Well I'm sorry sweetheart but if you wanna sweet talk your boyfriend you'll have to do it on somebody else's fuckin bill..."

"No!" You cried suddenly, a shrill choked sound escaping you and piercing Johnny's ears on the other end of the line, piquing his interest because suddenly you didn't sound so much like a girlfriend who wanted to rack up his bills, suddenly you sounded scared. Scared like a young girl in serious trouble.

"No!" You cried again, "please it's not like that it's not, I need Danny, I need..."

"Help? Yeah?" He asked you, thinking your fearful whimpers over in his mind. Wondering just who you were, wondering why you'd phoned his club in the middle of the night, what could have possibly happened to you to leave you so desperate and distressed.

"Yes!" You sobbed your panic catching up to you, another wave of tears choking you as you shook and cried into the reciever...

"Well alright sweetheart, Danny ain't here right now but I can get him for you, and I can come get you too, if you tell me where you are..."

Your heart plummeted at the news Danny wasn't there, that he wouldn't be coming to save you... That your only real option here was to put your trust in the hands of a random stranger, but what choice did you have? The only thing you did know for certain was that you couldn't stay here, alone, shivering in a smashed up phonebox whilst police sirens wailed two streets over. Trying you best not to cry because everybody knows that all the wrong men are drawn to girls in tears.

"Wha'da'ya say honey? You gonna tell me where you are, I'll come save you hey?" Asked the voice on the end of the line. There was something about his tone that sounded a little wiley, a little troublesome... That scared you. But there was something else too, something which drew you in... A softness you could sense, a gentleness. He was cooing to you down the line, trying to lure you in and as you blinked back your dewy tears you knew you had no other choice.

"Hey honey..." He said again, "you still there?"

And then you heard the dreaded pips beginning to go alerting you to the fact that you were running out of time. That if you were going to ask this stranger for help it really was now or never...

So without waiting a moment longer, your eyes squeezed shut in a panic, heart thudding in your chest, you blurted out the street name, hoping to god that your words made it through the line clear enough. And well if they didn't there was nothing you could do because no sooner had you choked out that last syllable had the tone flatlined and your call cut out.

As the line when dead you let the receiver fall and clatter against the machine, dangling limp from the coiled wire. You clutched your hand over your mouth to muffle your tears and then you sank down against the glass wall of the phone box all the way down to the floor.

You were wearing white, a delicate little babydoll style thing that you felt oh so stupid in now as you sunk down to the dirty floor and tried to swallow down your sobs.

It had been awful see. Your whole evening had been truly awful and you'd used your final dollars to call for Danny... Now you weren't even sure any good would come of that call after all.

You'd been working your close shift at a bar two streets away from where you were curled up on the floor now. It was a real dive of a joint, the kind of place that attracted what your mother way back home would have called "good for nothings" the kind of people your father would have shaken his head at and told you to pray for. "People like that y/n," he would have told you earnestly, "they've strayed too far from the lord and only a miracle will help them find their way back... For some of them you know, for some of them well, it's just too late..."

Well the scene you'd found yourself inadvertently caught in the middle of that evening had left you clutching your little gold crucifix necklace and uttering a prayer of sorts. You hadn't exactly been a good girl in a little while, but that night had seen you recite every word of the lord's prayer. Your voice is shaky and faithful.

See you'd left your parents home for the city, lured in by the glow of the lights each night, the clubs and bars, the people who seemed to be so different, more free... Your parents were good, salt of the earth small town people, law abiding, church going, god fearing citizens and whilst they'd always offered you love and shelter, you hadn't felt like you were really living... Hadn't felt like the life they were dreaming up for you, was any kind of life at all.

So you'd fled your tiny home town out in the sticks and moved to Chicago, found yourself a day job cleaning houses and snagged yourself some work as a barmaid for the nights. It was hard, exhausting even, but it was a taste of freedom you'd never had before and at least spending so long out of the house meant it was hard for you to really notice the abysmal living conditions in the roach ridden room where you were currently staying...

Now, two weeks ago you'd been sunbathing in the park close to your home, half asleep between shifts when you'd met Danny. He'd been reading not so far away from you and every now and then you'd caught him watching you over the pages of his novel. So you'd smiled at him, and you'd lowered your sunglasses to flutter your lashes the way you'd seen all the pretty girls on the silver screen do so many times before. That day you'd been wearing a little gingham two piece, your legs kicked back behind your head, your hair in two sweet little plaits hanging over your shoulders. Well, making eyes at Danny like that you'd felt like one of those pretty girls from the silver screen.

And when he approached you, stopped just in front of you and asked if he could photograph you for his college project, you'd blushed and cocked your head to one side. You'd felt so clever when you'd asked, "you say that to all the girls huh? Bet you've got a real collection..." He'd blushed and backtracked, tried to explain himself and you'd thought he was oh so sweet. You'd never met a college boy before and you felt so coy, so cool at the center of his attention as you'd spun him a slightly more mysterious, one which made your evenings spent cracking bottles of beer open for Chicago's most sleazy sound a little more glamorous.

Well, you didn't feel so glamorous now. Didn't feel so cool either.

In truth you felt real stupid and real helpless. The loneliness which had been creeping up at you slowly since you'd left home, really settling in tonight. It felt like a slap in the race, a real sharp stinging one. A cruel reminder that thanks to your own darn stupid actions, you were for the most part all alone in this unforgiving city. Hardly knew a soul.

If Danny hadn't have smiled at you that day in the park well, he was the only person you really knew and your little dates spent kissing in the park, holding hands getting all cute, they were as close to any kind of human connection you had had since you'd moved.

Without Danny you wouldn't have had a single number to call for help. Wouldn't have had anyone to turn to because nobody you shared that pit you lived in would have noticed if you didn't make it home from work.

No, in that moment, sitting on the floor shivering in your little white dress, you felt terribly terribly alone.

That's when you heard tapping on the glass. You looked up hesitantly, your heart soaring for a moment at the thought that perhaps this was some concerned citizen come to see that you were okay. You had after all been hiding in there now for awhile, and people would have been able to see your shadow curled up on the floor there...

You wiped at your tears hurriedly, trying to brush yourself up and stand, but when the stranger rapped on the glass again your heart plummeted and you shrunk away in fear, scolding yourself for giving yourself away so easily.

"Hey lady! Hurry it up there some of us got people to call, places to go, c'mon wha'da'ya doin in there?" They barked at you through the glass, their fist beating the door so violently that it shook and you whimpered, your eyes on the holes that had already been punched through. What would it really take for someone to make another?

So you stood quickly, scraping your knee on broken glass or a bottle cap or something as you tried to push yourself up onto your shaky legs and dust yourself down. You dabbed at your face with your dirty hands realising all too heartbreakingly late that all you'd done was smear dirty fingerprints across your cheeks and smudge your make up something awful.

"Wait your turn!" You tried to bark back, tried your best to be as loud and ferocious as you could so as to show this cold stranger you weren't to be messed with, but you knew when your voice cracked that you hadn't succeeded.

"God damnit lady get outa there!" They snapped back banging their fist on the glass once more.

Their temper startled you and you flinched back, your hand hovering over the door about to let yourself out. Your fear a stubborn lump in your throat you just couldn't swallow down. But then as they started rapping on the door again something snapped inside you, your temper flaring up because you really had had enough. After everything else you'd seen that night, the punches you'd narrowly avoided as you'd fled the chaotic scene in that smokey bar, this stranger poking and prodding at you, well it was the last thing you needed. It was more than you could handle.

So you drew in a deep breath and scrunched your eyes tight shut and as you barged out of that little telephone box you let out a scream of frustration loud enough to startle your stranger and see that they went stumbling back into a lamp post.

You wrapped your arms tight around yourself as you hurried forward, struggling to make a decent pace in your wedge sandals. You weren't exactly sure where you were going to go, knowing that you needed to stay on that street, stay close by so that if by some miraculous twist of fate Danny's friend (at least you hoped he was a friend) had come to save you, he would be able to find you.

You could hear whoever had been trying to get into the phonebox shouting at you from across the street, but you didn't look back to see the offensive hand gestures they were making. You were just glad they were only shouting. That they hadn't been some enraged lunatic with a gun they could start firing at you with. Those were the kinds of "crazies" your mother had always talked about. People you hadn't really believed in until three of them had started a punch up in your bar, smashing windows, firing shots, starting fires.

As you took shelter in a doorway and shrunk into the shadows you gazed across the street, your eyes set just above the rooftops, at the smouldering glow and the heavy smoke cloud which was still steadily rising above the buildings.

How long could a building like that burn for anyway?

You leant against the doorframe, the adrenaline of your little outburst already fading away, leaving you twice as lonely and twice as cold as before.

You'd left all your belongings at the bar when you'd fled, your little denim jacket and the purse which had had your house keys and your cash in it. That's why you'd been left with no choice but to phone Danny. Why you couldn't just go home.

And anyway, you didn't want to just go home. You were pretty sure you'd seen a man die tonight. You were pretty sure you'd seen hell open it's doors for a moment, the devils flames spilling out into the earthly world... How could you go home after that? No, you didn't just want Danny... You needed him. You needed the sanctuary of his arms around you, his kisses to your forehead. Though you weren't exactly sure he'd want to kiss you the state you were in just then.

What did it matter anyway, Danny wasn't coming...

Time dragged, every minute seemed to eek itself out longer than the last as you stood there shivering, tears in your eyes. You were doing your best to hold them in now, scared that another stranger could be even more cruel than the last, but every now and then one would spill over. Another salty streak of mascara and dirt trickling down your cheeks.

And that's when you heard it. Finally, after waiting so long alone in the dark. You heard the hum of an engine, the spitting thrum of a bike, and you knew it must be Danny's friend.

You saw the headlights warm as he turned the corner and began to slow down. He was looking for you. Heading for the phonebox which would probably now be empty. Your heart got stuck in your throat at the thought he might leave without you having seen the empty box and you dashed from your hiding place in a panic. A choked up little "hey!" Escaping you before you lost your voice.

Luckily for you that choked out little cry for help was enough for your stranger to hear you. For him to recognise your desperate tone, that sorry shake in your trembling voice. He left his engine grumbling but raised his hand to wave you over.

Something about the way he sat back on his bike, one hand resting in the pocket of his jeans, the other suspended in a still wave to you, seemed so calm and so cool that for a moment you didn't even question that the man who had come to your rescue was one of Those men... A biker... Another subset of Americans your mother had warned you about. Another kind of person you'd not yet encountered out in the real world...

"You Danny's girl?" He asked when you got a little closer. Close enough to see the grease on his hands and his jeans, to see the cigarette hanging idly from between his lips, the deep wrinkles in his forehead that told you he was much older than you... You hesitated. Stopped still in the middle of the road, your little white dress dirty and rippling in the slight night breeze.

"Uhuh..." You managed, your voice timid despite your best efforts to appear anything but.

The stranger turned his headlights on you and spotlit you and in that moment all his suspicions were confirmed. That you were very young, very naive, and very much in trouble deep.

"Well hey," he said, his eyes flickering over you, taking in the mess the night had made of you, "what happened to you?"

AN// this is kinda just a little intro I've had sitting in my drafts for so long... If you want me to tag you in future updates please let me know x

[sunflowermp4]

okay it's two am so it's time for me to talk about malcolm in the middle (2000-2006) and stanley winn who appears in like five episodes of season one to have intense homoerotic tension with francis (his roommate/best friend (???)) and then is never seen again. here is his character summary:

what if we were military school roommates. and i inexplicably decide to protect you from hazing and make an "informal agreement" where people call me your bodyguard and we have a specific arrangement about physical touch and i give you black eyes so you can ditch class. and i help you pull off your anti-authoritarian pranks even though i know i'll get in trouble too. and i ask for nothing in return except maybe weirdly homoerotic workout sessions. and also getting to express my own disillusionment with the system. and for the fact that i'm always in on the joke. and that you never ever lie to me. what if the only time i'm seen smiling is when i'm with you.

and then what if the one time i ask you to do something that i genuinely believe in. what if you lied to me to get out of it. and what if it was such a betrayal that i decided to disappear from the canon of your life forever.

and what if we looked at each other like this:

[ursinedyke]

hey guys. why does ned whimper like that when dundy says his name

[monarchisms]