#i don't know WHY i had these dreams. my subconscious must be thinking about the comic's pacing ig

[shreksstepfather]

Yippee!!

Full comic on Webtoon

[sysig]

Coding woes (Patreon)

[sheeezu]

.Shift by channeling.

Go to your DRs by channeling, again, step to step guide.

This can be used as a separate method, or you could use this when you need a final push.

This isn't the spiritual type of channeling, nor do you need to use AI or something, nor do you get possessed.

Step 1:

Before attempting to shift, choose a person from your DR. It could be your S/O, you can choose to channel multiple people, if you have a friend group or something, but i recommend picking someone whom you have a close connection with in your DR.

Have a voice claim ready, take some times to look at the person's pictures, remember their physical attributes, focus on their personality.

(You can listen to songs which remind you of your relationship with that person)

Step 2:

Lay down, when you're prepared to shift. You're going to start off saying affirmations like it's a normal shifting method.

If you can visualize, i recommend you think of visual affirmations which relate to your DR.

Its a method to affirm, where you go around your DR, whether it's your DR house, room, or a memorable or nostalgic place in your DR, and see your normal shifting affs, carved, written around, for example, your affs formed by clouds, carved into pillars and tables, written on your clothes, finding papers or letter which say your affirmations (so Affirmations ∝ Your DR)

You should try to be hype fixated, so if you are fidgeting, can't stay still, you're too engrossed in what's going on inside your mind to notice your body itching or twitching.

Do this until your symptoms intensifies or reach a peak, everyone feels differently, for some it's more physical (seeing light flashes, tingles, floating) for some it's mental (having a gut feeling, feeling euphoric) so don't get discouraged.

You aren't doing anything wrong.

Step 3:

This is where we come across our special person. While you're seeing your affs, make yourself meet them. Now, if you're confused and going to say this isn't channeling, then just stop. You're creating this reality and undoubtedly every moment you're experiencing, so when you're in a deeply concentrated phase, the only thing that could possibly stop you from having a very real and authentic meeting with your SP is your own self-doubt (anyways, if you're having self doubt then say an aff or two to combat them)

Your SP is standing right in front of you, let yourself loose at this point. No need to force anything scripted, but if you want then you can.

Have a conversation with your SP, whether it's initiated by you or your SP.

Maybe even invite them to drink tea, sit outside, take them to a secret spot.

Now you're having a conversation with them, starting off with your conscious thoughts doing the talking from your part, whatever your SP says is your subconsciousness speaking, or you're directly channeling them (both of which are the same thing, i hate being repetitive, you're creating reality if you believe you're being channeled by your SP, then that's what's happening)

Start off with a normal conversation, like how'd you talk to someone, someone you love and know very well.

Right now, you're going to say a very specific affirmation:

"(your SP's name) is just about to ask me what i was doing in my OR/void reality."

Then let the conversation take a natural turn. That question will eventually be asked, your loved one is just very curious about why you were away from them.

Now, what you will answer back will be the way how to shift.

"Oh, must be a fever dream, i had never had a dream so real, i was touching everything, each and everything felt legit." (best for permashifters, don't be afraid of using this if you intend to come back)

"I guess it was out of responsibility, but don't worry, i'm here now."

"I don't know myself, all i know i didn't like being there."

"I was curious, that's all; you know i like exploring new things, and come on, it was a whole new universe, but now i want to rest at home."

Whatever your SP says in response, whether they're asking you to come join them, or how they're glad you're back, just nod back.

Step 4:

Go to sleep in your DR, if you recall, you're in your home. Go towards your bed, crash down, close your eyes.

From this point onwards, you're going to embody your DR self and fall asleep acting normal, completely abandon the fact that you were shifting, or that you have shifted to your DR, act like a person (your DR self) living in any other world (your DR)

I described this in details in the third phase of my pinned post, you're supposed to do all that.

You'll wake up in your DR.

Why is this method supposed to work?

Connection to your DR environment ✔

Logically explains your involvement with your previous reality, why you were there for so long ✔

Reminds your consciousness that you've successfully shifted ✔

Connection to your loved ones in your DR ✔

Most importantly, connection to your DR self ✔

...

That's the method, you can also shift in between the method as well. There really isn't any reason for you to wake back in your CR, listen to some subliminals to remove intrusive thoughts, then you're good.

You could also make it so your SP had more control over your shift, like they brought you back, you can modify the method according to your wishes.

It's a short and sweet method, believe in your abilities and you'll be out of here faster than lightning.

...

This method is heavily focused on visualizing, if you have aphantasia then your DR SP can just speak to you, when you eventually cross over to your DR self's state of mind (if they can visualize) you'll get the ability to visualize like them, or get flashes of images.

...

Also thanks for everyone who gave me compliments in my inbox I have no clue how to receive them, but I am very grateful (:

[biolumien]

Hi Hi! first time requesting like this and I just recently finished watching the latest episode of Kaiju number 8. I was wondering if your could write something for Vice Captain Hoshina.

I was thinking something along the lines of a reincarnation storyline? Maybe Reader is a renowned painter or something. And one day they come across a dream of Hoshina in their past life and they paint his face. And Hoshina is suddenly bombarded by a few officers/cadets a few days later about a sudden article blowing up online with a painting that had extremely similar structure to his face. And maybe they'd end up meeting because of it?

I love your writing. Particularly the one with the glasses reader that I read a few days back. You're free to change things as you see fit. And I'm sure whatever you come up with will be very nice. Sorry if my words are confusing. I don't speak english language that well. 😊👌 Thank you if you decide to write for this ask.

notes: ok the way i am. actually obsessed with this i hope you enjoy!!

every 'one line' drawn.

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader no warnings, i think wc: 1768

in your dreams, you always see the same face. red eyes watching your face, purple hair framed over his face and the feeling of a callused hand on your hand, on your cheek. and every time he leans into kiss you, you find yourself pressing your face closer to his, as if desperate, and then you wake up. 

and when you wake up, you always feel the telltale trickle of a tear down your face, the feeling of salt on your tongue. 

there’s no time to wonder what the dreams ever mean, what with your job as a painter. you lived commission to commission—and while your customers were always high brow and paid generously, still meant that you couldn’t be lost in daydreams forever. 

and in your studio, with the pungent smell of turpentine and linseed oil, with your hands inevitably smeared with oil paints, it was easy to forget the stranger whose hands felt rough and weary, and yet held your face with measured gentleness. it was easy to forget him—up until you went back to bed, and you’d always be back in the same dream. 

“i keep seeing you,” you murmur in your dream. “who are you?” 

the man laughs. 

he seems sad, for a second. 

“a dear friend,” he responds. you see it on his face, the way his lips twist at his words, that it’s not quite true. and he leans in again, watching your face. “it’s okay if you don’t remember me.” 

“but i do,” you say in protest. you think you remember this face. “i want to.” 

you must remember this face, surely—this face that, upon your words, looks sadder. and then you wonder if he’s even real—or if this is simply your subconscious, saddened that you can’t remember. saddened that your mind replays this moment, again and again, a repeated brushstroke pulling open the blank canvas underneath. 

“we all want things we can’t have, sometimes,” the man says. 

he leans into kiss you, 

and you jolt up out of bed, awakening to a phone call from your manager. 

“hello…?” you mumble into your phone, pressing it against your cheek as you rub the sleep out of your eyes. “it’s rare you call me randomly like this…” 

“tis no random call,” your manager responds. “you’ve received a request to exhibit some of your works from a museum. will you do it? i hear the pay’s pretty good.”

“mmm… any specific theme?” you ask. 

“not really. they said to let your imagination go wild.” 

“hm.” 

you touch your lips, and when you close your eyes, you see a hint of those crimson eyes again. 

“alright. i think i’ve got a pretty good muse this time,” you say. 

[…]

hoshina wasn’t exactly someone who was very in the know about art. his job, for one, meant that it’s not like he would exactly be interested in art in general, and it’s not like he was even spending his days off on art museum trips or admiring the local art scene. 

so why was it that everyone seemed all abuzz about art today?

and why did it seem like there were more eyes on him than before? not that he particularly abhorred attention or anything, but the eyes seemed to be looking at his face specifically. 

his eyes flit to some of the new officer recruits—iharu, reno, kafka… fuck, even haruichi and aoi? what the hell was going on—huddled around a laptop. haruichi’s brow furrows as he stares at the illuminated screen, and then flits up to look at hoshina. when hoshina stares back, harder, haruichi’s gaze immediately ducks back to the laptop.  

okay. 

well, something was definitely up. 

hoshina strolls over to the recruits, who immediately seem to start panicking—the panic is written across kafka’s face more obviously than the others, and reno elbows kafka in the side. 

“what’s all this about? if you’ve got time to huddle you’ve got time to run laps—” hoshina starts, leaning over at the screen before—

“about that, vice captain,” iharu says. 

hoshina’s in stunned silence staring at the screen, because… isn’t that—

“holy shit,” hoshina says. 

“holy shit indeed,” haruichi says grimly. 

on haruichi’s laptop screen is a painting of— him. hoshina’s damned face, brows gentle and a softened smile on his face. it was a beautiful painting, and yet—there was something sad about the smile, the brows belying deep sorrow. 

“this painter’s pretty well-known, too, aren’t they?” kafka asks. “for like… the psychedelic stuff.” 

“no,” reno says. “they’re like our modern-day monet or something. impressionist paintings.” 

“impressi-what? how do you know this much about art, reno?” iharu asks, wrapping his arm around reno’s neck in a headlock. reno coughs, slapping iharu’s arm. 

“shut up,” reno chokes out, but even as the bickering picks up, hoshina’s gaze is still transfixed on the painting. 

it’s him. no doubt about it. 

“i’ve never talked to them before,” hoshina says after a moment. at once the arguments rattle to a halt, but in the empty relief of silence is the carved truth—that the painting is definitely of him, and its painter was a person who he’d never talked to before in his life. 

“the artist is going to be doing a panel about their exhibition soon,” haruichi says, glancing up at hoshina. “i think they can get me a ticket if i ask.” 

“… just don’t expect me to lighten your laps around the training course,” hoshina says with a chuckle. 

[…]

you hated speaking in front of an audience. cliche, of course, the introverted artist that squirrels away in in their studio—but that was often your reality. you liked to say you wanted your work to ‘speak for itself’, as it were, so you didn’t often make public appearances. 

but your most recent exhibition, featuring the painting of your mysterious dream visitor, created far more buzz than you could have asked for. suddenly everyone and anyone wanted an answer as for who your muse was, why he had a very striking resemblance to soshiro hoshina of the japan anti-kaiju defense force’s third division, and had you gotten permission from hoshina to do it? did you have a specific message surrounding your work?

“just stick to the script,” your manager says to you. “i talked it through with some of the reporters and i wrote some answers for you if you’re scared.” he hands you a slip of paper, and your eyes scan the page, and you swallow the lump in forming in your throat. 

“i shouldn’t have done the painting after all,” you say.

it was strange. in the days and weeks you’d worked on the painting, you hadn’t seen your muse in your dreams at all. you’d been forced to rely on only the memory of the dream–which only seemed to get fuzzier and fuzzier until it became barely a wisp. and now, in those ensuing weeks that the painting has been on exhibition, you almost felt embarrassed of the painting–its vague subject matter might have been charming and a little kitsch, but charming and a little kitsch wasn’t supposed to garner this much attention.

“nonsense,” your manager says. “it’s a wonderful painting.” he pushes you by the back, gently urging you forward. “they’re ready for you.”

you push past the door separating you from the reporters–and then are immediately flashbanged with cameras and lights, and jumbling, layered voices creating a discordant symphony that made you wince.

“um. thank you… for…” you wince as your grip fumbles on your microphone, nearly dropping it, the feedback screeching across speakers. “um. sorry. i’m not exactly the best public speaker–my repertoire of events… like this, isn’t many. but thank you for attending this panel… surrounding my exhibition of my latest work. i’ll answer… a few questions.”

the reporters looked like a jumbled blob for the most part–a thrumming organism of similar faces that melted together into one homogenous mess, a splotch of badly-mixed paint on the palette that you’d scrape away with a knife and discard. 

reciting your manager’s written responses wasn’t the hard part. as you continued to banter, your eyes swept across the crowd.

what were you even doing here?

you wanted to crawl back to your studio, already, and go back to painting. at least then the idea that you’d dreamed up some man who bore a striking resemblance to someone who already existed would fade away with time. and then your eyes found that telltale shade of crimson and purple–for just a moment. and you think his eyes meet yours, too–crimson eyes the exact shade as the one in your dreams. 

his eyes widen. 

“... as you were saying?” a reporter’s words float back to your ears, ephemeral, and you pause.

“can we… no more questions.” you shake your head, finding your vision swimming, blurring, and you raise a hand wiping tears from your face. “sorry. something just… came up–”

and you push into the crowd, trying to find the face from your dreams.

that had to be him, right? his face? it was like as soon as you saw him, the underpainting of your memories flowed back to you–a heartaching loss pounding in your chest. something was wrong. something was missing, because you’d forgotten–and now that you’d remembered it, it hurt. 

“i’m sorry,” you say. 

“you’ve nothing to be sorry for,” the man says to you, and leans in to kiss you. “i’ll find you again in the next life.”

“i’ll remember you,” you say. 

the man watches you, a somewhat sad look on his face.

you press your thumb to the corner of his lip.

“and when i do, i’ll do something big. to capture your attention. and then your eyes will be on me forever.”

you finally manage to catch the man in the crowd, and you realize you’ve seen him before. only once or twice, though–on a small poster or on television. soshiro hoshina, of the third division. you did know this man–but just barely.

he lets out a surprised noise as soon as you collide with him, and you gasp breathlessly. 

“i’m sorry,” you say, looking up at hoshina. “i just… have we…”

“met?” hoshina answers your question, cocking his head, blinking down at you.

“yes,” you say. “i think… i think so. maybe. we… you look familiar.”

hoshina blinks, and then smiles.

it’s so different than the way he smiled at you in your dream. the corners of his lips quirk up, his eyebrows relax almost as he watches you. 

“i thought so too,” hoshina says, and you hear relief in his voice. “so… um. hi.”

“hi,” you respond, and he laughs.

[kingkat12]

chasing sleep (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, morning sex, attempting-to-stay-quiet sex, Roman loves tits (oops), reader on top, dub-con elements, needle-gate is back lol, dark!Roman returns, fluff, angst, and reader is fucking brainwashed cause girl stand up for yourself wdym

summary: everything seems to be going perfect for you-- you've got the guy, after all. however, you're still haunted by the life you gave away to be with him, and specifically, the girl you left behind. will Roman ever fully trust that you won't leave him?

word count: 11,308 (merry christmas tihi)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12

a/n: celebrating 700 followers AND christmas with this monster of a chapter!! I love all of you, thank you once again for your amazing support, I LOVE YOU!! this fanfic is nearing the end now, so... hold on tight for what's about to come;) ENJOY, MWAH<3

"You didn't say goodbye, and now a part of me believes that means you're coming back,"  

Over and over again, those words echoed in my ears. I had read it in a passage somewhere, probably in the new romance novel I had picked up a few days ago, and now it truly haunted me. Latched onto my guilt, my love, my very being-- I wasn't sure whether I was capable of letting it all go, despite how happy Roman made me. 

Was that maybe why I ended up right here, right now?

"Do you think it could work again?" Letha echoed, turning to me. Her legs were dangling off my roof as we sat by the edge. A soft breeze moved her long, blonde hair away from her shoulders, and just like that, I was reminded of how truly beautiful she was. It must be a genetic thing for all the Godfreys to be breathtaking. However, the look in Letha's green eyes told me something was wrong, but I couldn't put my finger on it. It was almost as though I was looking back at her with a grey-ish filter, like my vision was making it seem like we were sitting in a cloud of fog. None of this looked real. 

"What could?" I asked, turning to check my surroundings-- yeah, this was definitely my roof. Why were we here?

"Us," Letha's gaze awaited me as I faced her again, and it was heartbreakingly sad. "You and I. Our friendship."

It felt like I had dipped the tips of my fingers in cold water. "Letha... Come on," I reached for her hand, placing mine above hers with a sigh; "This ended a long time ago. I don't think we can salvage this--"

"But what if we could?" Letha's voice was so painfully sweet, so insistent. "Do you think it could work again?"

"What could?"

"Us," she breathed, turning her hand to intertwine our fingers with an unusually hard grip. It didn't feel so sweet anymore. "You and I. Our friendship."

The red lights in my mind went off like police sirens-- something was off. With my next glance at her hair, it was no longer that same warm shade of blonde. Now, I could argue it was actively turning white before my eyes. 

This wasn't real. "Letha?"

"Yes?"

"... Am I dreaming?"

Letha's eyes softened as the green in them dulled down, bordering a bleak color of grey. "Yes," she said. "I'm looping it until you're honest."

"What do you mean?--"

"You'll wake up when you tell me the truth. If you want to help your subconscious let go of the guilt, you should do it,"

My heart was actively breaking. Looking into Letha's blank eyes, I realized it reminded me of the look she had on her face when I first told her about Roman and me. "Ask, then,"

I could see her emotions clutching her soul like an unforgiving fist despite this only being a dream. My head didn't have any problems conjuring the image of her as a kicked, wounded puppy. She spoke; "Do you think it could work again?"

I indulged with a soft sigh; "What could, Letha?"

"Us," she said, allowing tears to well in her eyes. "You and I. Our friendship."

I felt it truly, brutally, that I didn't know what to say. I didn't know if it would break me to be honest. "I can't leave Roman for you," I breathed. "I won't. So I doubt you and I could be friends again as long as I'm still with him."

Letha nodded, turning away to look up at the full moon above us. The hand she had in mine was starting to turn cold. "Do you think it could work again?"

Oh, she was asking again-- was my answer maybe not the truth? Not the right answer? Did my sleeping subconscious know? "What could?" I echoed, growing tired of the loop we were caught in.

"Us," Letha closed her eyes as her chest raised and fell with her shallow breaths. "You and I. Our friendship."

I decided to give it less thought-- that was the key, sometimes. Roman had taught me that. Could it? Could it truly? "Honestly?"

"Honestly,"

It didn't take long before I realized tears were threatening to spill from my eyes too. I had missed the smell of Letha's sweet perfume. It smelled like home and a comforting hug hello. "Yeah. I think it could work," It was weird to hear me say it out loud; "I was always in love with Roman, but you... You taught me how to love in the first place. If we could both forgive each other, I think we'd have a chance. Yet... I don't think I ever can. Fully."

Letha didn't open her eyes, barely moved an inch. She opted for a short, melancholic nod as her lower lip gave in to a tremble. "I'm afraid I'll miss you forever," she whispered, mostly to herself. 

And suddenly, I couldn't feel the weight of her hand in mine. My gaze darted down to what was previously our union, only to find that she wasn't there anymore. I looked up to find a slow line of evaporating smoke, similar to a trail coming from Roman's cinnamon cigarettes. 

With my next heave of air accompanied by a lonely tear rolling down my cheek, I allowed my hand to reach out to touch the fog. It was thick, and it prickled the tips of my fingers to the likes of a cactus-- my sorrow clouded my instincts, and I didn't retract my hand. I hadn't allowed myself to feel any of this, after all. I had been so wrapped up in Roman, so wrapped up in the new feelings that washed over my body, that I had buried all the old ones. 

However, Letha kept her promise-- I was released.

Released from the loop, but with one foot remaining in the quicksand of guilt.

And as I awoke, it felt like I had been thrown into a cold pond. With a quick breath, I arched off the bed, gasping; "Roman!"  

Frantic beyond words, I heaved for air, blinking rapidly to wake myself up. The morning sun shone through Roman's curtains with soft rays, and I was hit with the smell of a burnt candle. Still hyperventilating, I put a hand on my chest as I tried to turn around, but to no avail.

Why couldn't I move? Was I maybe still stuck in the dream? 

Oh, wait-- It was at this moment that I realized I had a heavy arm around me, keeping me still with my back pressed up against human warmth. 

I let out a shaky breath, a relieved smile spreading across my lips-- Roman. 

My panic gradually subsided, washing away with calm waves as I turned my head to look at him. The sun did him good. Roman's hair was a very specific shade of brown, but in the sun, it had twinges of orange and golden hues. If I were to ever bring it up to him, I know he'd protest and say he was nowhere near ginger. He wasn't, and I was aware of that; as usual, he wouldn't get the point.

After some careful maneuvering, I managed to turn in Roman's heavy embrace, facing him. His plush lips were gently parted, and his long, brown lashes weighed over his eyes-- he also had a rather hefty case of bedhead which I couldn't help but find beyond endearing. Up close like this, completely still, I could see the nearly invisible freckles painting the apples of his cheeks, study the curve of his upper lip, and the scar-like indent on his right cheek. I dared to trace my thumb over it, feeling the softness of Roman's skin against the pad of my finger-- this was beauty unmatched.

He was so beautiful. 

And he was mine.

With the gentlest of pressures, I leaned forward, barely brushing my lips across Roman's. I didn't dare to fully kiss him. I wouldn't dare to wake him up. If only we could lay like this forever, undisturbed and alone.

Forever.

Memories of last night swarmed my brain, pushing out all the memories of Letha's sad, green eyes. I smiled as I realized the ache between my legs hadn't subsided-- the sting remained. It had actually happened. I hadn't made it all up. And I would've stayed engulfed in my cloud of complete and utter awe if Roman hadn't nearly scared the living crap out of me with the following.

His voice was raw with sleep as his eyes remained closed; "It's rude to stare,"

I practically arched right off the bed again. Had Roman not had his arms around me in a deadweight hold, I was sure I'd have flown right down to the floor. "Christ!" I hissed, shocked. How had he known? "Sorry... Did I wake you?"

Roman seemed too sleepy to grant me a proper answer, and he settled for a short grunt; "Sleep," 

"It's already morning!--"

"Don't care. Sleep," With his next breath, he pulled me even closer, until the tips of our noses were touching.

I was almost glad Roman's eyes were closed. At least he didn't see the hefty blush creeping up my cheeks. It dawned on me that he maybe had a point-- we had never had the pleasure of having nowhere to be, with no one to wake us up, or school to go to. 

There was one thing I wanted to say, but I was scared he'd get upset at my use of words-- no, fuck it; "You're so pretty," I whispered, reaching up to brush my fingers over the tips of his long, long lashes. "You can't expect me not to stare when you look like this."

Roman's brows drew together, yet he allowed me to do as I pleased in his sleepy state. "I'm not pretty,"

Knew it. "Yeah, you are,"

"Just go to sleep,"

"You're unbelievably pretty,"

"... Please just sleep,"

I was aware that I was annoying him, but something about the way his voice got all harsh in the morning made me want to hear him more. Roman's breath fanned over the skin at the tip of my nose with the gentlest breeze as I sighed against his lips; God, how I loved him. "I don't want to sleep... but I can lay here with you, if you want,"

Roman hummed, the dark rumble in his chest nearly vibrating the bed in the process. "Just don't go anywhere,"

"I won't,"

"Ever,"

"I won't,"

With Roman's next breath, I knew he finally believed me-- finally. It hit him for the first time last night that I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't going anywhere, and it hit him again now. Forever was a dead serious plan of mine, and I was intent on making him understand that no matter what. "You're prettier," he eventually said, nudging my nose with his. "You're like the first pleasant sip of water after you've recovered from a sore throat."

"... Specific,"

Roman let out a short, annoyed groan; "Sleep,"

I didn't want to sleep. I didn't want to possibly face Letha again. With my palms against Roman's soft cheeks, I placed a loving kiss against his parted lips, feeling him sigh into me. "Good morning, Rome,"

He smiled, fulfilled, as though he couldn't hold it back anymore; "Good morning, baby,"

"Did you at least sleep well?--"

"Sleep!"

"... But I really don't want to,"

With another sigh, Roman stirred, pulling me closer to press a lazy kiss to my jaw. "Either you go back to sleep, or we fuck. You gotta give me something to work with, here,"

I stilled. "That's... not a bad idea,"

Roman's classic smirk illuminated my morning. "Turn around, then,"

"Huh?--"

"Trust me,"

Sometimes, when I was lonely, before everything with Roman, I used to kiss the skin between my knuckles and imagine someone else was kissing me. The small sounds, and the tingling sensation pooling in my stomach, would distract me from the unbearable feeling of loneliness. The reality of it.

Which is why, when Roman brought my hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to my knuckles before turning me around, I knew I wasn't alone.

Actually, it wasn't just that that showed me I wasn't-- the repeated strokes of Roman's cock filling me was certainly reminder enough.

It was that sort of lazy morning sex I had only read about in those odd novels my mom would hide around the house, or heard about from my friends which I no longer had. This was a different type of sex from yesterday's, which had been so highly connected and emotional-- and this was not to say that this right now wasn't both connected and emotional, but it was... comforting. Like we were taking joy in being able to do just this. To enjoy one another in a sleepy, slow form.

Roman's grip around my throat wasn't hard or choking-- it was more of a hold to keep me in place as he let out a breathy grunt against my shoulder, sinking into me with slow, lazy strokes from behind. "We should do this more often," Roman murmured against my ear, listening to my small whimpers. "Isn't this fun?"

I could hear his stupidly pretty smile. Fucking Romy Schneider. "What, sex?" Obviously?

Roman's deep laugh against my ear nearly had me shuddering; "In the morning," he purred.

"That's gonna be-- hard," My last words were cut off by the hitch of my breath. This felt too good. "Parents and-- and all." It was true, though. How were we supposed to do this with our parents in the house? I doubted Roman's mom was out on business trips all the time, anyway.

With a small huff, I was pulled even tighter to his chest, almost as a reprimand-- I had no idea why it made my cheeks burn. "You'll learn to be quiet," Roman breathed, kissing up the shell of my ear. "Right?"

"I--"

"You'll be a good little girl for me and be quiet, hm?"

And just as I was about to protest, to remind him it was probably a little rude to have sex with other people in the house (I had no idea actually, was there no etiquette to it?), the hand Roman had around my waist slid between my legs, coaxing them further apart. All my thoughts of having a proper conversation went out the window the second he pressed two fingers to my clit, circling it as his kisses moved to the skin between my ear and my jaw.

It was impossible not to give in to the feeling; Roman was intoxicating. I whimpered with the next brush of his cock against my sweet spot, the different sensations dulling my brain with every thrust-- "Yeah,"

Roman let out a hum of approval; "Just for me?"

"Only-- Only you,"

I could practically feel him melt against me. "That's my girl,"

It was an oddity how much Roman enjoyed the sound of it. How much he enjoyed knowing he finally had a companion in the world. I could feel his cock twitch inside of me with the reminder, with the need to become one.

Because at the end of the day, that's what we were now.

We were one. 

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next day at school was the easiest day to handle in a while. It didn't matter that people were staring, that my reputation was still tarnished, because I finally felt the stream of love floating my way that I had been craving my whole life.

"You need to start zipping this up," Roman huffed, reaching for the zipper of my jacket. He pulled me closer to the railing he was sitting on by the school entrance, shaking his head. "It's getting cold. Don't be stupid." This was a new level of intimacy. The quiet moments, the small, shared moments of care. He was almost annoyed that I hadn't done it myself, that I hadn't thought to take care of myself, thoughtless little girl. 

I loved it when he got protective like this. Absolutely adored it. It only reminded me of how much I loved him, and consequently, how I couldn't tell him. 

I glanced at Peter, who sat next to Roman, and held back a snicker. I could bet about a hundred dollars that he had never seen his best friend so ridiculously protective before. "She's not twelve," he tried, nudging Roman's shoulder, earning a displeased grunt. 

Oh, of course Peter didn't get it. Roman Godfrey, sweetly zipping up my jacket-- the simplest of all things. Nonetheless, it brought a twinge of scarlet to my cheeks as I spotted a group of cheerleaders passing us on the way to the school entrance; the looks of seething jealousy in their eyes only brought me joy. A part of me wanted the sight of Roman being sweet to leave them with a feeling of pure agony. I wanted them all to suffer. Always. For their heads to be bashed in like Jasmine nearly did to herself into her locker; I wished it upon them. On them all. 

... I needed to snap out of this.

Roman had been right-- it was getting chilly in Hemlock Grove. I shivered when he finished buttoning my buttons, smiling down at him where he sat with Peter, glad none of them could read my thoughts. I wondered whether Roman would be horrified or... comforted by the fact that I was capable of wishing cruelty upon others, just like him.

It didn't matter. None of it did. Especially not now that he was looking up at me with those big, green eyes of his with his hands tucked into his jacket, looking handsome as ever. From this angle, Roman's shoulders were almost broader, and the more I thought about his physique, the more I thought about last night when he was completely undressed.

Completely undressed, on top of me, loving me. 

... Loving me. 

If only he did.

Fuck-- I couldn't think about that right now. The need to draw him in and have him all over again would overcome me soon, and I needed to push it down. It would be quite unfortunate if I started acting like a cat in heat every time I saw him from now on. "I need to get to class," I said, keeping my hands to myself despite how much I wanted to run them through Roman's hair. 

His eyes softened as he scanned me, jacket fully zipped up and all. "What do you have now?" he asked, now toying with the fabric of my pockets. 

"Math, sadly,"

Peter looked like he couldn't wait to escape the tension that ensued the two of us being in such close proximity. "Oh, right," Peter muttered, clicking his tongue against his palate as he sat back on the banister. "Math, second period... With Letha, right?"

The name was enough to make me freeze, and just for a second, it felt like the air got colder. I was sure I might've even flinched. The image of Letha in my dreams, white as though drained of blood, clouded my vision as my heart started to thump painfully. Why was I reacting like this? 

Also, Roman looked like he had been greatly offended by something. With furrowed brows, he sat back and sent Peter a look of what the fuck. "How do you even know that?" he muttered, reaching one arm forward to drag me closer by my waist, his eyes not leaving Peter's to scan his every minuscule reaction.

I was relieved by Roman's touch-- my fingers dipped into the short hair at the nape of his neck, unsure what was happening. 

On the other hand, Peter seemed to have a hard time recovering from what I could only guess was a slip-up. "I don't know," he said, shrugging as his eyes shied away. "I just remember it, I guess."

Roman snapped; "Why?"

Okay-- I didn't want to be here for this conversation. I couldn't hear more about Letha, not after my cryptic dream. It didn't make matters any better that Peter was right, and that I would see her in my next class. I stopped playing with Roman's hair, placing a short kiss to the top of his head; "I'm heading off," I mumbled, nodding shortly to Peter before excusing myself. 

Having got a quick whiff of Roman's heavy, intoxicating perfume, I closed my eyes and clutched my books tightly to my chest as I walked to class. The sheer smell of him, the softness of his hair, the kindness of his gestures-- it all made my head wander back to last night. The way it felt to have him inside me, how he took care of me, and how good it all felt. Allowing the memories to float back into my mind, I didn't realize I was walking around with a bright smile on my face until I sat down in math class and got a few odd looks from the other students around my seat. I wasn't usually this cheery, I suppose. 

Life felt good. When I thought about Roman, everything felt great. I made myself comfortable behind my desk, feeling my tummy tingle with my reminiscing of last night; I wanted him more than ever. Now that I knew we could be together like that, I wasn't sure how I was supposed to be able to detach from him. And just as I thought I was about to explode into a burst of butterflies, I stuck my hand in my coat to reach for my phone, only to find what felt like crumbled-up paper. 

Confused, I unfolded it;

i miss the look on your face when you cum. miss you miss you miss you. let's find a quiet place somewhere and get very very noisy after school, what do you think about that? do tell. i want to know your every thought, actually. what makes you tick, and so forth. know that i'm probably thinking about you right now. always. 

- your favorite (hopefully)

Oh, Roman and his notes. When had he managed to put it in there? A few minutes ago, when he toying with my pockets? Sneaky. I was dead sure my cheeks had turned a peculiar shade of pink by the time I felt someone put down their bag in the empty seat next to me, and I was too drunk on the euphoria to glance at my partner for today's class. How I loved Roman-- I loved him to the point where the tips of my fingers burned when I thought about him. And knowing he was probably in class now as well, thinking about me too... no, it was almost too much to bear.

However, when something much harder to face suddenly sat down next to me, I would've loved to get sucked right back into my tingling cave of Roman-comfort. 

Letha. 

Letha was here. 

Letha was sitting next to me, gazing back at me with those trademark green Godfrey eyes. 

Fuck. I immediately crumbled up the note, stuffing it down my pocket to hide the content of it from her. Knowing Letha, she'd probably barf at the sight of the first sentence. "What are you doing?" I hissed, glancing around to scour the classroom for empty seats. "There's a free table two rows down--"

"I like sitting here," Letha's face remained free of strong emotion, and she turned away to unpack her supplies. "It's close to the window, and I need the natural sunlight. It helps the headache I get from the lamps in here, don't you remember?"

She said it so matter-of-factly, and for a second, it felt as though I had been teleported back to two months ago. I didn't know how to act around Letha anymore. "Sure," I mumbled. Just my luck. 

As class started, I would glance over at Letha every once in a while. She seemed so peaceful, undisturbed by my presence, and I wasn't sure why that annoyed me to this extent. Was it perhaps the fact that she sought out forgiveness from me when she refused to give me any in return? That she was seeking acceptance about the situation only when it suited her? 

It was odd to look at Letha and see her in colours. After my dream last night, I could only see her in her undead form, dead to me.  

To my dismay, Letha leaned over to my side of the table a little later that class; "Do you have a pencil?" she whispered.

A Godfrey asking to borrow my pencil? It usually led to no good. Still, I handed her one--

"Thank you,"

"No problem,"

This was so weird. It felt too normal, yet it was agony to act that it was. However, the situation only worsened when the teacher asked us to work in pairs and solve an equation on the board. I held my breath, daring to glance at Letha; she was already looking at me. "You have no clue how to solve this stuff, do you?"

I shrugged. She knew me too well. "You've probably already solved it in your head,"

Letha's smile was kind, genuine. "Want me to show you how to do it?"

"Nah," 

"Do you even do your homework anymore?"

I knew her question was coming from a good place. I could feel it. After all, I barely managed to do my homework when Letha and I had regular study sessions at her place. Just thinking about it made me remember the sweet smell of her sheets, which never mixed well with the incense she was always burning for 'good karma'. "Roman has a guy that does them for him, and I write my answers off of his," I mumbled.

I expected the mention of him to put her off-- yet Letha simply nodded, raising her brows in a conniving look. "He's corrupted you,"

"I've let him,"

"I know," Letha's green eyes shimmered with words untold as she echoed; "I know."

It was odd to face her like this. For her to know my feelings for Roman, and not walk off this time. This was the first conversation we'd had in months where we weren't at each other's throats. And suddenly, Letha took the leap I wasn't allowed to take-- she leaned in closer as she dared to whisper the forbidden words; "I miss you,"

Oh no. "Letha--"

"You never said goodbye, and now a part of me believes you're coming back,"

I let out a shaky breath as I moved my chair further away from hers. What she said had been too close to the words in my dream last night. It was chilling. "Of course I never said goodbye," I hissed back, feeling my emotions boil to a simmer. "You didn't let me." There it was, laid out in the open. "You cut me off, Letha." She had. "And you left me for dead!"

Letha held her breath high in her chest as her mouth formed a tight line. It wasn't until she moved her chair closer to mine and gripped the table harder that she allowed herself to breathe; "I left you for dead because you basically fucking stabbed me!" 

"I didn't mean to!"

"And you think I did?" Letha hissed. "You gave me no choice!"

"That's not true! I came clean to you, and the least you could've done was to!--"

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry!" 

We stared at one another in silence. There it was, my apology, served on a silver platter. I had heard it once before, but Roman wasn't here to control the outcome of it this time. Something within the bounds of my soul was relieved of anger and tension, and I couldn't halt the result of it; "I'm sorry too,"

Letha froze for a good second or two. Her lips parted in disbelief as her grip on the table lifted, and she sat back in her chair with a slow nod. It gradually dawned on her what this meant for us. 

"Do you think it could work again?"

I indulged with a soft sigh; "What could, Letha?"

"Us," she said, allowing tears to well in her eyes. "You and I. Our friendship."

It was easier to breathe, all of a sudden. I knew that an apology wasn't enough to mend our wounds, but it was a start. I nodded along with Letha and watched as the corners of her mouth tugged upwards into a smile-- I caught myself mirroring it.

"So..." she tried.

"So..."

"Did you hear that Brooke Bluebell bought a big needle from a pharmacy?" 

I grimaced; "What? No, why?"

"To get her revenge on Roman," Letha held back a laugh, biting down on her lip as she turned to write down the answer to the math equation. "From a few months ago, if you remember the whole ordeal."

"Oh," I breathed. "Needle-gate?"

"Needle-gate,"

Despite how concerning the big needle sounded, it was a funny reminder of the past; "I've gotta tell Roman," 

"Yeah, you better. I think he's blocked me, so I'm out of the picture," Letha sat back in her chair after finishing her work, and she glanced back at me as she tapped the pencil against the paper. "You've gotta tell him about prom too."

"... Prom?"

"Yes, prom," Grabbing her bag, Letha rummaged around for a few seconds until she found a flyer. It was purple, super lavish-- "It's in two weeks, I think. Kinda short notice, but I have a feeling he'd secretly want to go. He's into the classics, so I'd suggest you indulge him."

I felt my cheeks turn red as I kept my eyes on the flyer. Just the thought of me in a dress, Roman in a suit; it made me warm. Uncomfortably warm. "I think he'd rather die, actually," I mumbled, handing it back to Letha. "Are you going?"

"Meh, don't think so," She stuffed the flyer back into her bag and sighed, reaching for her phone. "The guy that I'm into says he doesn't want to go, so I'll stay home."

It hit me that this was the first time I didn't know who Letha had a crush on. Previously, she would tell me all about them. There was a Tyler, there was a Scott, and then there was a third one who had a really peculiar last name. And just as I was about to scour my brain for more names, a particular one popped up on Letha's phone as she turned it on;

Peter: I think it's time to...

That was all I was able to see, as she needed to click on it to read the whole message. My eyes widened as I sat back in my chair, sending Letha an odd look. It was clear by her body language that she hadn't intended for me to see that, and she immediately flipped her phone. 

... Was something going on?

Letha cleared her throat and turned back to me with the same smile, yet it felt disingenuous. "That's a different Peter," she said, a somewhat panicked squeak to her voice. "It's the neighbour. He might be complaining about the amount of cars my dad has parked on our street, cause they don't fit into our garage anymore. It needs to be discussed, apparently. It's time, or whatever."

That seemed like a typical rich-kid problem. I could somewhat buy it. "Is it a Godfrey thing to be crazy about cars?"

"Just you wait until you hear about the cigarettes. Dad's a real chain-smoker,"

"... Don't tell me they're cinnamon-flavoured?"

Letha sighed; "Sadly, yeah. The garage smells like a goddamn gingerbread house,"

The laughter that followed wasn't intentional, and it blended in with the ring of the bell. 

This was nice. To see the smile on Letha's face felt good, like a warm soup when you have a cold. It was a comfort to know that we could finally be normal around each other, despite the fact that we would possibly never be friends again like before, or even forgive one another. I doubted that I ever could, fully. 

However, just as I was about to excuse myself, I spotted a silhouette by the door which made my blood run cold. 

Fuck.

Roman. 

I saw it in his eyes immediately. The confusion, which quickly morphed into something darker, anger-like. My laughter died down in an instant as my body kicked into a fight-or-flight response, suddenly scared out of my mind to be caught laughing with Letha-- she seemed to catch on momentarily, but remained in her seat as she watched me shove all my supplies and books into my backpack, hurrying to get to Roman.

I had forgotten that he wanted to pick me up after class. I had forgotten my promise to not fraternise with the enemy-- fucking stupid. 

Hoping to conceal the slight tremble in my hands, I put one of them on Roman's arm when I caught up to him in the doorway, smiling up at him with an anxious breath stuck in my chest. "Hey, you," I tried, giving the sleeve of his shirt a gentle tug as I always did, a plea for him to bend down and kiss me. It was impossible to reach all the way up to his lips without it, anyway.

But Roman's attention hadn't left Letha. His eyes had narrowed, glaring at her with fury apparent in the way his jaw clenched. Had telepathy been a real thing, I'd have thought they were yelling at each other through their minds. I almost wanted to butt in and say Letha wasn't bothering me, that we were having a normal conversation-- however, I knew that would only make it worse. 

"Come," Roman said with a low growl, unlike anything I had heard from him before. With one last scorned look at Letha, he gripped my wrist and started marching down the hallway; I didn't expect to be yanked from my place the way I was, and I was sure my legs were fully in the air for a microsecond or two; "Roman!--"

"This day just keeps getting worse," he muttered, not waiting for me to find my balance as he continued to drag me down the hallway. 

Roman's grip around my wrist was hard. "Slow down!" I tried, grabbing his arm with my free hand. "It's not what it looks like! It's not-- " Everything about this made me dizzy, and his sudden anger made the familiar feeling of dread pool in my stomach. It only got worse when he pulled me into an empty classroom, slamming the door shut behind us.

I took a few steps away from him, waiting for the bomb to explode. My breath came out in short, ragged motions as my hands remained clenched by my sides in anticipation. It felt like I was five years old again, waiting to get reprimanded for having drawn on the walls. "Roman, I--"

"Shut up," Of all the things I expected, it wasn't this. Not at all. Because suddenly, my body was pressed against the door of the classroom with Roman's arms around me, and his lips pressing needy kisses to my neck. My bag dropped to the floor-- What the...?

"Not here," was all I managed to say before my breath hitched, and my hands automatically flew up into his hair. "Roman, please, wait--"

"No," He was more dismissive than ever-- I wondered why I sort of liked it. Why it made my stomach tingle, why I wanted him to do whatever he wanted to me. Was it possibly after what had happened last night? "No more bullshit." 

I closed my eyes, hoping we'd have a few seconds to disperse if someone walked in on us right now. With the force of Roman's weight against mine keeping the door firmly shut, I was sure of it. My head lulled against the door as I felt him latch on a particular spot on the side of my neck, marking my skin with his possession. I knew I was screwed-- you can't get more screwed than this. 

I was sure I disassociated for a few seconds, because suddenly, Roman's lips brushed against my ear, and I had to suppress a shiver. "We're gonna have a damn serious talk," he said, keeping me still against the door. "We need it. I need it."

Something told me we wouldn't be talking much if he continued kissing me like this. "Let's-- Let's talk, then,"

When Roman pulled away, I could finally see the frustration on his face. The way his brows were drawn together, how high his breath was in his chest, and the narrow glare of his gaze. Still, I didn't think it would result in this; it took me a while to realize his hands were no longer at my sides, and that they were now unzipping my jeans. 

"What are you doing?" I breathed, grabbing at his wrists. "Don't--"

"You think you can outsmart me?" It was as though someone had ripped the curtains off its hinges, now revealing what was always hidden behind them. Roman's breath fell heavy against my cheek as a small twitch of his upper lip revealed his inner turmoil; "You think you can tell me one thing, and then do the opposite when I'm not looking?"

My anxiety grew as I realized Roman's strength was unmatched. There was nothing I could do to fight him. "What are you talking about?" It was hard to come up with a cohesive sentence when I was this stressed. 

"Peter told me, y'know," Roman continued, a low growl in his voice prevalent in ways it had never been before. "He told me the obvious, of course. That Letha is trying to reconcile, that she misses you... But then he told me the part I didn't know. The part you probably didn't want me to know."

It was with his last ominous words that he managed to dip his fingers past my waistband, past the hem of my underwear, and placed two fingers on my clit. The unexpected touch immediately made me squirm against the door, squeezing my eyes shut. "Why-- Why are you doing this?" was all I managed to stutter out, my hands still locked around his wrist. He knew I didn't want this. He knew. "I don't-- don't know what you're--"

"Talking about?" Roman rubbed rough circles around my clit as he placed his forehead against mine, pressing my head further up against the door. "Oh, so you're not gonna tell me?" His voice got more patronizing, as though this was fifth grade and he was teasing me in the courtyard-- "Is my good little girl gonna be real stupid and not tell me? You wanna act dumb with me, huh?"

Something about his tone made my cheeks burn. His tone, his words. This was not a good way to find out about a possible kink. My mind dulled with the stimulation against my clit, and it didn't take long before I eventually felt my arousal pooling. In all ways of the word, I felt like my body was betraying me. "Not here," I echoed, breath hitching. It felt like he was pressing a button on me, like I was a toy, thoughtlessly repeating it over and over; "Not here, Rome-- N-Not, here, please--"

"I'll stop when you tell me,"

"Tell you what?" I cried, squeezing his wrists as my hips bucked into his hand. Roman knew how to touch me, even if it was at my disadvantage. My mind was racing; someone could walk in, someone could see, someone could--

"How Letha helped you get us back together," Roman's breath was so warm, so angry, against my face, it felt like he was drawing my scorching red blush on my cheeks. "How you went and asked her for advice on how to decrypt me? Maybe you don't know me at all, is that it?"

I didn't want to think about this. I didn't want to be present. I didn't want to think about the fact that Roman had gotten the information all twisted, that Peter must've had quite an extensive talk with Letha to even know parts of this story, and that Roman couldn't find another way to talk it out than to do it like this. Forcefully. Because right now, it felt too good. It felt way too good. The sensation of his fingers rubbing circles into my clit, running them between my folds to gather up my slick, only to return to my bundle of nerves to make my legs shake with a mix of anxiety and pleasure, felt too good.

"That's not true," I tried in between heaves of air. What would it make me if I came like this? "That's not-- not true, Rome--"

"I won't ever be enough for you, will I?" 

"No-- no, you're everything!--"

"Because the end of the day, you'll go back to Letha," Roman's voice was tight, restricted, as though he was holding back a heap of emotions. "No matter what I do, how gently I fuck you, treat you, you won't want to be with me forever. No one does."

If only he knew. If only he knew that I loved him. My hands let go of his wrist, and I placed my palms against his chest, forcing some space between us with a push. That seemed to do the trick-- Roman's fingers slowed down as our eyes met, and he was faced with my watery gaze. "I didn't lie last night," I said after finally catching my breath. "I've never lied to you." An unnervingly big part of me longed for him to rub me through my high, which was not too far away from the horizon, but the sane part of me knew I had to put an end to his venture into the dark ways of his past. 

Roman's mouth pulled into a straight line; "Peter wouldn't lie to me either,"

"I'm not saying he is. He just got the story wrong,"

There was a long silence, and I knew this was my moment-- I reached for Roman's wrist again, and with careful, slow motions, I got his hand out of my underwear. "Letha heard us fight, and she came over to ask about it afterwards," I started. "There was no plotting. No decrypting. The only thing she told me, was to look for a bigger picture when it comes to fighting with you. I didn't ask for it! And what you saw just now, was us being friendly. Not friends. We will never be again, after everything that happened!" 

"But... you were talking on the stairs," Roman echoed, as something in his gaze faltered. "I saw you when we were leaving the party."

Letha's following words were almost icy to the touch, hollow to the ear; "Was I right?" 

It felt as though my world stilled. Time stilled. Just for a second, I felt as though I could wade my free hand through the coldness of her phrase, and I could wave away the mirage. She was concerned, curious. Had she genuinely wanted to help me get through this fight with Roman? 

"Yeah," I breathed. "You were. Thank you." 

Letha's face softened as a relieved sigh escaped her, nodding her head slowly. It had been a long time since the last time she had heard those words from me. "Any time," 

The memory was as fresh as day. "You were right next to me, Roman. If I was hiding something, I wouldn't have talked to her in front of you," I let go of his hand, letting out a shaky breath as he took another step away from me. I could sense that his mind was cracking itself in half. "I don't need Letha to tell me how to fix things with you. Contrary to what you were thinking, I do know you. And I know you well enough to see that this isn't you being angry with me, but rather your fucking abandonment issues surfacing because you haven't dealt with them yet!"

It was clear that Roman didn't expect me to raise my voice, but hell-- I was so done with this behavioural pattern of his. 

"It might be good for me to not have the worst relationship with all the girls at this school, have you thought about that?" I said, feeling my fists clench at my sides. "That Letha and I being friendly and not at each other's throats might be good for me? And that it might also be good for your relationship with your cousin, mind you, who you've seemingly blocked?" 

Roman remained silent, at a loss for words. 

My breathing had yet to calm down, along with my arousal. "You will always be enough for me," I said, softening my tone. "You're all I've ever wanted. I'm not leaving you. But it doesn't matter how many times I tell you this unless you trust me." I zipped up my pants, huffing as I picked up my bag. It felt as though my knees were about to give out-- I could feel my slick dripping into my underwear. This was a feeling I never wanted to revisit again. Ready to storm off, to slam the door behind me with a bang and leave Roman here to wallow in whatever he was feeling at the moment, something else hit me like a blow to the head; "Wait, how did Peter know?"

It couldn't be. It seriously couldn't be.

Roman cleared his throat, no longer meeting my gaze. I could see it in the light pink of his cheeks that he was embarrassed about his outburst. "He said they talked at the party," he mumbled under his breath. "Briefly. Just for a second."

"Ah, is that right?"

Roman caught my tone, glancing up at me through his brows. "Why?"

"Don't you think it's odd?"

"... Maybe, I don't know? I was busy getting laid that night, don't ask me,"

I would've laughed had I not been so pissed off. I could see the lack of reaction on my face getting to Roman, and he gave in to a slight shiver. Finally, the roles were reversed, just for a second. "Rome?"

He looked relieved to hear me use his nickname-- "Yes?"

"You will never do anything like that to me ever again,"

Roman tucked his hands into his pockets, head hanging low. "I... really don't know what came over me--"

"Never," I snapped, biting my teeth together. I was afraid I'd start yelling. "You will never."

I wondered whether anyone had talked to him like this. If this was the first time in history that Roman had gotten a boundary imposed on him. Maybe by his mother when she was scolding him as a child, but after that? I somehow doubted it. He remained silent, eyes fixating on his polished shoes.

Finally getting the opportunity to look at him this close, I spotted the vial of my blood still hanging around his neck, poking out from beneath his shirt. In the back of my mind, after having read that stupid book on upirs, a huge part of me thought he was getting affected by it. That the constant smell of blood right underneath his nose was activating dormant senses, dormant thoughts. 

But upirs weren't real. 

Not.

Real.

Roman's silence made me feel unimaginably guilty, as though I had been the one to force myself upon him-- he looked like a kicked puppy. I hated it. So, I gathered my next breath; "Could you at least say you're sorry? Then I'll feel better about inviting you home for dinner later,"

Roman's eyes lit up as they met mine, surprised I'd even offer. "You... still want that?"

"I can barely breathe when we're apart, what do you think?"

He let out the breath he had been holding, falling apart; "I'm really sorry,"

I didn't want to dwell on it. Didn't want to think about the fact that the scared look on my face would probably get him going for months on end. That he'd think about it at night, when he woke up, and especially when he got off at the thought of me. The scared look in my eyes. 

No. I didn't want to think about it. 

Roman was the first to approach, slowly daring to tilt my head up with two fingers underneath my chin and kissing me with the utmost gentle touch. No tongue, no urgency-- just a small, soft brush of our lips against one another, creating sparks that went all the way down into the tips of my fingers. 

Letha had been right when she first warned me about him, all those months ago. Roman was the epitome of an asshole. A core so rotten, it was impossible to carve out all the bad. You could try, you could dig, you could pray, but all of it would never go away. It would forever fester in his bones, infect the very basis of his DNA, and course through his veins.

But... when he kissed me like this, I could forget it.

I could forget.

When he kissed me like this, I only loved him more.

I knew I would love him forever. 

And as the kiss deepened with the sweetest pressure, I reached for the vial of my blood around Roman's neck-- he didn't notice the way I twisted the capsule, figuring out which way to turn it so it would screw itself off. I had a feeling I would need to know this information in times of crisis. 

Just in case.

Just in case. ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The rest of the evening went on as normal. Weirdly enough.

Roman had fully snapped out of his rage, and he had turned into a version of himself I hadn't seen before. He wasn't joking around. He wasn't making dirty jokes. 

He was... calm.

Assured. 

I knew this was probably a form of keeping on the low, to not take a wrong step and blow up in the minefield he had made himself. Roman laid still in my bed with his hands behind his head, watching as I scoured my closet. If there was going to be a prom, I had to look for a dress, right? 

"What are you looking for?" he asked, yawning. "Need some help?"

I shrugged, hoping to brush his question off. It was a bit embarrassing to be talking about this, seeing as he hadn't asked me to be his date or anything. "Just looking for a dress... Wondering if I still have the one I'm thinking about,"

"What do you need a dress for?" Roman sat up in the bed, watching me like a puppy would.

"I... like dresses. Need to wear them more often,"

"But it's getting colder, don't you think it's better to wear something warmer for the season?"

What was up with this obsession of his lately? He had to keep me warm at all times, supposedly. "You sound so polite," I mumbled, wading through my clothes. "Stop looking so guilty, please."

Roman let out a sigh, running his hands through his hair. "I feel bad,"

This was intolerable. It gnawed on my heart. "I told you we're fine, so please don't," I turned to him with one hand on my hip, hoping to stare some sense into him; "I even wore this crazy top to make your mood better, look!"

Roman's eyes darted down to the hot pink crop top I was wearing, and he bit down on his growing smile to stay neutral. Nonetheless, I could see it on his face that he remembered exactly where I had gotten it, and possibly the feeling he had back in that closet when he came into the soft fabric of it. "I'd rather you wore my sweater, like usual,"

"It's in the washer. And this top is fucking iconic," I pointed to the words which were stretched out across my chest. "See? 'Rock on', in big, black letters. You need to rock on more, Roman."

His smile immediately cracked, and he propped himself up on his elbows as he leaned down on the bed. "I've done enough rocking for today, that's for sure,"

I finally saw a way I could turn his mood upside down. With a smug smile, I walked over to the pink speaker I got for my seventeenth birthday and connected it to my phone. "Rome, baby, who's big in rock these days?" 

Roman chuckled, rolling over on his side to follow me with his eyes. "Depends what type of rock you're looking for,"

"Anything,"

"I don't know, then. Anything from Nirvana to Blur, I suppose," 

Bingo. I guessed that Roman was going for bands he thought I had heard of, and he had hit jackpot. With a click of a button, the intro to Song 2 by Blur started playing through the speakers, which earned me another laugh from my boyfriend. It was a typical rock song-- it started out rather quiet until it broke out into complete chaos. 

I crawled back into bed, kissing my way up Roman's stomach, which only made his breath hitch. The giggles brewing in his chest resonated through my body that was pressed up against his, and I joined the laughter as I kissed his rosy cheeks. It was intimate, it was sweet. I loved that I could do this with him now, that he was comfortable enough to be put in a position like this, and that he allowed me to pull stunts like these.

And after all, I decided I would show my love through action, as I couldn't tell him about the extent of my feelings. I knew he'd get up and bolt right out the window like something straight out of a cartoon.

Roman caught his breath, placing his hands on both sides of my face-- all the emotions he couldn't tell me either were on display in his big, green eyes, roaming around the galaxies in his dark pupils. "I trust you,"

"... What?--"

"I keep thinking about what you said earlier," he tried, stroking his thumbs across the soft skin of my cheeks. "I promise I trust you. And I'm sorry that I get in my head about it, because you don't deserve that. You deserve so much better than what I can give you, yet... I want you to stay with me. I really, really want you to stay with me."

This was a rather deep conversation to be having with loud rock music in the background. I should've definitely picked something more mellow. With a sigh, I leaned down to kiss the tip of Roman's nose-- "I told you I'm not going anywhere," I breathed. "I'm yours forever, if you'll have me."

Finally, Roman's eyes lit up. Lit up like fireworks painting the sky. "Forever sounds nice,"

"It does, doesn't it?" It was impossible not to smile.

"It so does," 

It was a relief when he pulled me tightly to his chest and kissed me. It was the type of kiss I had dreamed of having in my bed on a lazy afternoon, the type of kiss which made my heart swell as it beat against his. The type of kiss which I had only ever seen in movies, the type of kiss I could never imagine would feel this good.

No one ever told me that making out with your boyfriend was such a thrill. To be tangled up as one, to be a heap of bodies coming together, to be a mess, and that it would make my whole being vibrate with joy. Roman's lips were so gentle to the touch, yet his kisses were so hot, all-taking, that I wanted nothing more than to melt into him and become one. 

It didn't take long before he rolled us over-- I knew he wouldn't be the type to like anyone on top except for him. My hands were in his hair, tugging at the tips of his dark locks to make my fingers busy, as Roman's tongue licked a stripe up my lips; it was so soft, a feathery touch, and it drew out a shaky moan. 

I didn't know any of this was possible before I met him. I really had no idea, silly me. 

My mind didn't register the meek whine that escaped me, possibly to protect my psyche, as Roman pulled away. A thin string of saliva connected our lips as we simply breathed down at each other, gazing into the other's eyes-- I was sure mine widened a little when I felt something hard pressing against my lower abdomen. 

Fuck, that was still damn hot. 

It certainly gave the words rock on a new meaning, no?

"I need to ask you something," Roman breathed, followed by a sigh of relief when he heard the song was over. "But don't freak out on me, okay?"

I nodded, eager to have his lips back on mine again; "Sure,"

"And before you judge me, I'm not the biggest fan of this idea myself, cause I think it's kinda lame. Keep that in mind,"

"Okay?"

"So... Heh," Roman let out a soft, nervous laugh, nudging my nose with his. "You might actually want to find a dress for this to work, though."

My fingers traced circles into his hair; "Rome,"

"Yeah?"

"Stop rambling, please,"

"Oh,"

"You were saying?"

"Oh," Roman cleared his throat, placing a short kiss to my lips. "Do you want to go to prom?"

Had I not been trapped beneath him, I would've shot right out of the bed. My eyes widened as I pulled him in for another kiss, hoping to suppress the squeal that threatened to escape me. 

"Wait, wait--" Roman's words were muffled against my lips before he raised himself up, still not done. What else was there to say, though? "So, you're going?"

"... What?"

"With friends, or...?"

"Roman, what friends?"

"Ah, right," Once again, he cleared his throat and got all serious again; "So... would you want to go with me?"

It took a second for it to dawn on me that Roman had been genuinely confused. That he thought I would be going with anyone else but him. That he thought, even for just a second, that there was a possibility that I would tell him no. "Are you crazy? Of course!"

Oh, how I loved him.

I loved him to bits.

And here I was, squealing about going to prom. Roman had made me a puddle of girly with his heartthrob-ways. It would've made me sick, had we not immediately gone back to making out, but this time, with bright smiles on our faces. Kissing someone while smiling was definitely in my top three of all things possible on earth. 

Second place was being picked up like I weighed nothing, oddly enough. That was one of the perks of having a tall boyfriend, after all.

And the first place was a no-brainer. It was definitely sex. 

Oh, and who would've guessed-- we'd end up having sex a few minutes later, believe it or not. When your boyfriend is this hot, it's impossible to resist. It was the type of sex that made up for his behavior at school today, the type of sex that made me melt into the mattress with joy and pleasure. 

The cursed hot pink crop top was quickly discarded, and so was my sanity. Roman's kisses grew firm against me, muffling the sounds of my moans as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of my thighs, pinning them down and folding me into submission. It was official-- there seemed to be no etiquette to sex, and my parents being in the house was an obstacle that was easy to deal with. 

Just... shut up. Keep your mouth shut. Right?

But it was so damn hard. Especially as Roman angled his cock right up against my sweet spot with the help of the pillow beneath me, making me whine in pleasure against the kiss he had locked me in to ensure my silence. It was impossible. It made my toes curl, made my vision blurry, and made my mind go into complete lockdown. I entered a phase where I almost didn't care, where I couldn't care less at all, and where the only important thing was for Roman to do whatever he wanted to me. 

"Fuck-- me," I rambled, my hands skimming the muscular range of his broad back as I felt my need grow insatiable. 

Roman let out a huff against me, the smile on his face a visible contradiction; "What am I doing, then, gorgeous?" He was so secure, so confident, that it was impossible not to let him do whatever his heart desired to me. I trusted him with my whole being, even as his grip around my thighs started to make them ache. My lower lip quivered; "Lo--"

No, no!

"Love this," My rambling needed to end, stat. 

Roman smirked into the kiss that followed; "Me too," He seemed to be catching onto my overstimulated state, and the second I let out a sigh of relief when he let go of my thighs and the pounding against my sweet spot relented, he came right back with a move I didn't expect. Roman wrapped his arms around me, pulling me up into his lap with his cock still throbbing inside me. 

I suppressed a surprised yelp. "Rome!--"

"Shh," He guided my legs around him as he watched me adjust to the new feeling-- he was deeper than ever, now, and it freaked me out a bit. "Stay quiet for me, okay?"

I was on the brink of tears. It felt like my thoughts had short-circuited and left me for dead. My breath tensed in my chest as I draped my arms around Roman's neck, grabbing a fistful of his hair to ground myself, just as I knew he liked it. "Let's try something new," he purred, hands traveling up my thighs to grab my hips, lifting me up along his shaft as I gasped into his open mouth. 

Even when I was on top, Roman needed to have control. Perfect. That worked out well for me, actually.

The way he was looking at me made me feel like I was on fire. The green of his eyes etched into mine, watching me with unmatched amusement-- his lips were upturned into the usual smug smirk which made my heart dance in my chest, and in vulnerable moments such as these, it also resulted in my cheeks flaring up with an embarrassing shade of pink. 

It didn't take long before we found a rhythm, and before I got used to practically riding him. It was different like this, especially when Roman's hands were simply a weight on my hips, and I could fuck myself on his cock. It felt like a permission of sorts, like he was telling me he was all mine, that I could do whatever he wanted to him-- like an exchange of submission. Although, of course, Roman would never fully submit to anything in the world. 

It was easy to keep quiet when the soft pillows of his lips muffled the sounds of my inevitable moans, but when they left me, it became a fight against my conscience. A small gasp would escape me here and there, along with a loud hitch of my breath, and it eventually balled on into a breathy string of ah ah ah's-- staying quiet was an impossible task. I prayed to all the Gods above that my parents wouldn't hear the mess their dearest Roman was making out of their daughter.

They had no idea he could be like this. None. He was such a sweetheart at dinner, he'd always make sure to help my mom set the table, and he'd talk sports with my dad-- they had no idea. I could see it in Roman's eyes that he found the sight of me beyond amusing. That he got off me unraveling more than anything. He only made it harder for me to stay quiet as he pressed the heel of his palm to my clit, keeping me steady with a hand on my back as his kisses trailed down my body. 

"A-Ah, Rome--" I was done for. I was done for. 

"Shh, just a little more," Roman's lips had stayed at my clavicle for long enough to leave a mark. It dawned on me that he was leaving a trail of hickeys, and my fist in his hair tightened as my legs quivered. This was too many sensations at once. "A little more... You can take it, right?"

I couldn't utter a cohesive sentence. The pressure on my clit, his wet, eager kisses, and the way I could set the perfect pace as I slid up and down his cock made my brain buzz with static noise. I was sure my eyes had morphed into the shape of hearts as I let out a shaky, quiet moan, filling myself up with Roman's cock over and over. The best feeling in the world. 

"That's my girl..." he cooed, grabbing my waist with his free hand. "Fuck yourself on my cock, it's all yours..." His pink lips parted with pleasure as he watched me sink down on his length, enchanted by the sight. It was a delight to watch the way his perfect up-do came undone, and the way his hair fell over his forehead in messy strokes. He looked unreal, godly. 

Roman's words were enough to make my hips buck into his abdomen, but my state only got worse, deteriorated, as his mouth trailed down to my breast. The moan I had to suppress when I felt his tongue against my stiffening bud was unmatched-- I was sure I started panting as he took it into his mouth, suckling it swollen as I whimpered. 

I wanted to let it spill past my lips; I love you, I love you, I love you. In that sense, sex was dangerous territory for me. However, how was I supposed to resist when it felt this good?

My lips ghosted over the parts of him I could reach, his ear, his cheek, and I let my breath hitch against his skin as a familiar feeling pooled in my tummy. Aware, Roman only drove the heel of his palm harder into my clit, making it so that I was grinding up against him with every lift of my hips against his length. I gave into a tremble, unsure how to stabilize myself in this position-- "Rome," I cried, pleading for him to kiss me. I wasn't sure I'd be able to suppress the sounds that were threatening to spill past my quivering lips when my high washed over me.

Roman's free hand remained at my breast, pinching my bud between his pointer and his thumb in a firm hold which had me wincing in pleasure. He kissed up my body, my shoulders, my neck, my jaw, my cheek-- yet he hovered inches away from my lips, the smirk still prevalent. "You lost," he whispered.

Lost what?

It was as though he read my mind; "You can't stay quiet, can you?"

I really wished I could. I was trying with all my might. But I was so, so damn close, and I shook my head, hoping he'd take pity on me. 

"It's okay," he cooed, his breath falling hot against my cheek as he tilted his head as though to kiss me. "You were never meant to win."

And so I crumbled. Completely. Utterly. Euphoria tore through me as I fell apart in Roman's arms, and it didn't take long before he simply wrapped his arms around me, laid me back down, and fucked me through my high as I suppressed my sobs of pleasure into his shoulder. 

Honestly? I didn't remember what happened next. Completely zen, relaxed, and thoroughly fucked, I considered myself logged off for the next ten minutes or so. However, I had to run over to my mental keyboard as Roman's hand, which was previously toying with my hair, pointed to my nightstand-- "What's that?"

With a small grunt, I raised my head from his bare shoulder. Fuck. My eyes sprung wide open as I spotted The Avoidable Vampirism on display, uncovered and everything. "Uh..." How could I have left that abomination out in the open? I gulped, turning to Roman with a doe-eyed expression that I knew worked well on him. I was sure my next words would put him off his incoming queries in an instant; "It's the sequel to Twilight. Vampire erotica, the usual. Edward is gay in this book, Bella is dead, and there are tons of scenes where, uh... men kiss men. And suck each other off. Super interesting."

Unsurprisingly, Roman was immediately disinterested. "Girls," he mumbled, rolling his eyes before he pressed a short kiss to my lips. "Stop thinking about gay sex, go to sleep."

"I'm not thinking about!--"

"Sleep!"

a/n: thank you for reading this monster of a chapter!!!! as you see, Roman's going absolutely nuts... I wonder whyyy (oh we know why, don't we? don't dangle a carrot in front of a donkey or whatever they say). there are a few chapters left of this book which will be packed w shit I hope will melt your brains, but before that, I wish you all a lovely christmas and a happy new year!!! MWAH, THANK YOU!!)

here are all the chapters!!<3: PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12

loveliest taglist of all time:

@mentallyscreamingsincebirth @putherup @corawithfanfiction @vladsgirlxx

@iamaslytherin0 @sexualparkour @the-universe-is-complicated @heavenly-bratt

@lafemme-nk @namiusedbubble @useyourwandbro @strmborns @literally-lani

@virgosapphire79 @star-girl-04 @veyzus @ddipotassium @pecxiebu

@mil88691 @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @katifefe @sn0wybowie-blog

@lilithskywalker @likecherriesinthespring @sadheartjellyfish @vadersangel

@shehangsbrightly @burningmiraclekingdom @dollforaswan @austinswhitewolf

@nico-velvet @shiiiii-okayyyy @theantagonistalwaysdies @blackbluerose666

@obexes @rosecoloureddudez @amoure020 @itsaeasykill

@succubustacy @carmillavalentine

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

/ book 7 spoilers

*politely grabs you by your shoulders* UEUEUEUJQKXNkxnsnnanzndnsmsmfmdmsmdm

hello... sorry... Leona rant... the guys theorizing that Kifaji stops Leona in his dream bc deeply he'd wish for someone to stop him... i think im going to cry. i wonder if him being such a bad king in his dream has to do with his own feelings- meaning he doesn't believe he'd be a good king? Idia explained that maybe Leona purposefully chose his dream to play out in a more realistic way, which would mean having consequences and such... even if it would be painful, he still went with it...

I think you had a post about this iirc, but this rlly pushes me to further believe that what Leona craves is valid recognition— people recognizing him for who he is and what he does, not idolizing him, just valuing him genuinely. I think there in reality he craves more that than the "king" title specifically— that's why the scene where Jack says that "he's not your (the shadows) king, he's our DORM LEADER" felt so special to me, bc Jack is doing exactly that. he's valuing him for being his dorm leader, a title Leona earned for himself. I think that ultimately that'd be more valuable for him than the king title itself, since one "is born" to fulfill that goal (and the whole reason he isn't king is because he was born second, again, things out of his control—) I think that's why this dream Leona isn't satisfied w having become king, bc at the end of the day he only got there bc Falena/Cheka died here. Some people theorize he pulled Scar tactics in the dream, but regardless of that, I don't think the "nature" of the position itself would satisfy his need to be seen, to be genuinely valued. BC WHAT HE CRAVES IS NOT *JUST* TO BE KING, IT'S TO BE RESPECTED FOR THE THINGS HE ACCOMPLISHED... also more proof that if he wants to help out in his country he needs to do it alongside Falena's ideals, bc apparently the only good thing his reign brought in his dream was... no more inflation 😭😭😭 which is good (guy who lives somewhere with too much inflation), but I mean... I think I'd prefer still having nature 😭😭😭

ALSO... and the way he SACRIFICES HIMSELF for Ruggie... AND THROWS HIMSELF TO THE DARKNESS... also his confrontation w his overblot feels much more... depressing? than the others'? ☹️ And and and... The line about him deciding the place he'll live in... ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ I'm in tears. Pls help.

and at the end he DID know he was dreaming, and he also suspected it before being 100% sure. so I guess our prediction was kind of right 😭

also UHM. THE OUTFIT??? AHHH URNWKDNFKSNSKSKKDKjfjwnnzdn sorry it's. the least important thing of what I wanted to say but he lOOKS SO PERFECT AHHH

[My full thoughts on the book 7 part 11 Leona update here!]

*is grabbed out of nowhere* 🧍‍♂️

NO BECAUSE I WAS THINKING THE EXACT SAME THING... dream!Kifaji is the only NPC/darkness in the dreams that didn't aggro and attack us 😭 In fact, he actively protects us and begs Leona to "wake up", continuously acting as the voice of reason the entire time... AND THEN SMILING AT THE END AND PRAISING "HIS KING" WHEN LEONA FINALLY FULLY WAKES UP... I feel like that definitely is not a happy coincidence. Deep down... some part of Leona's subconscious might have realized something was wrong, and maybe that manifested as Kifaji, the one person in his memories that could stand up to him. Not just because Kifaji is a stubborn old guy (although he is), not because he seems to be a competent mage, but because he must have been Leona's one and only friend and guardian growing up in the palace where the servants always shit talked him and compared him to his older brother. He raised Leona. He played with Leona. He encouraged Leona when his prince didn't believe in himself. He tried so hard to keep Leona from straying. He sees the goodness in Leona. He knows how intelligent Leona can be and how this can save their country. It makes total sense that Kifaji would be the form Leona's conscience assumes.

I feel like dream!Kifaji could also represent... that last shred of hope that Leona has for himself 💀 As late as book 6 of the main story, Leona states that Jamil isn't like him, hinting that while he believes Jamil has the capacity to change and be a better person, he doesn't have that same faith for himself. AND MAN, THAT SHIT WAS HEARTBREAKING OTL Then, entering his dream in book 7, we see just how deep that despair truly runs. Malleus promised everyone happy dreams, didn't he? And Leona has theoretically been given everything he has supposedly ever wanted. The crown, his kingdom, the power to enact all of the policies and laws he believes would benefit his people, wealth for his country, etc. But that has bled the country of its resources, made the people resent him--and he's still left bitter and unfulfilled, alone in the palace. This isn't what happiness truly looks like, but it sadly might be what Leona believes Sunset Savanna is destined for if he's left in charge of it. (Idia likens the dream to a sandbox game, and Leona, being the owner of it, decided to play it "realistically".) He can only become king if the rest of his family dies or goes missing. (This is even more morbid if you believe the headcanon that Leona committed fratricide and murdered/convinced Cheka to run away.) He'll achieve his goals, but at the cost of isolating himself and making himself a pariah. He and his people will starve to death. Everything he touches will crumble into sand. That's all he and his unique magic are good for, anyway. Destroying things, never creating or building them. AND HE STILL CONTINUES TO EXIST IN THIS WASTELAND, ACTING LIKE HE'S IN THE RIGHT AND LIVING IN DENIAL THAT ANY OF THIS IS HIS FAULT... while Kifaji, his conscience, his hope, is right there trying to get him to see reason.

Leona's dream was such a shock to see right after Jack and Ruggie's. The contrast between how he views himself and his rule vs how his dorm members see him and his rule is like NIGHT AND DAY. You got Jack here thinking of Leona as an upstanding and honorable dorm leader and team captain and Ruggie who dreams of a Leona who graduates and betters the lives of the entire country and the less fortunate by building schools and establishing magift/spelldrive clubs (which enhance Sunset Savanna's soft power). Then you have... whatever hellscape Leona has conjured up 😭 It's so sad that Leona pictured RUGGIE as being one of his most devoted haters too. Yeah, Ruggie sometimes complains about Leona running him ragged and how rich people have it easy compared to him, but Ruggie has never expressed this level of vitriol towards Leona before... yet in his own darn dream, Leona believes Ruggie would HATE him and try to overthrow him when that couldn’t be further from the truth. In Ruggie’s dream, he hasn’t even MET Leona before but still looks up to him for what he has accomplished and done to help the poor and the downtrodded 😭

I have mentioned before that I don't believe Leona needs to become an actual king in order to be happy (that post here!), and I think this most recent update proved my point. Jack points it out to us (in case we didn't already put together) that Leona is still miserable in spite of being gifted the crown and kingdom. Leona is still not satisfied. Even if he becomes king, he won't be satisfied. Even if he obtains everything he wants, he won't feel fulfilled. Never, ever, ever. AND THAT MAKES SENSE, because what Leona REALLY wanted all along wasn't the crown but the acknowledgement of his skills and talents... "proof" of his worth as an individual. I feel like the word "king" is thrown around a lot in regards to Leona, both in fandom and within his own dorm (Ruggie, Jack, etc. refer to him as their "king" quite often). However, it's not "king" that holds weight to Leona... it's everything that comes associated with the title. Respect, validation, love. These are all the things Leona got so little of as a child, which is why he fixates on them now. He has even expressed that he doesn't value the title of king if you didn't earn that title to begin with, which just goes to show that he wants to be able to prove himself and be seen for it. AND THE SAVANACLAW STUDENTS DO, AAAAAAAHHHAAHAHHHHHHHHHHHHhHhhhHhhhhh OTL JUST LIKE JACK SAID, HE'S THEIR DORM LEADER...

As dark as Leona's dream was, I appreciate it a lot for its realistic depiction of... Leona's worse tendencies... along with a potential future under his command. I often see people claiming that Leona would be a far better ruler for Sunset Savanna than Falena is. And to that, well... I'd say look at Leona's dream and some of the points brought up in it. I don't think his rule would be as terrible as what we see in the dream, HOWEVER. The dream mentions many shortcomings of Leona as a ruler, such as disregarding traditions and refusing to listen to advisors and input from the people. This would naturally make him unpopular with the country he serves, and it certainly doesn't help that he is not amicable either. These are only a few points I brought up in my extensive post comparing Leona and Falena's ruling styles, which I would highly recommend reading. I want to stress that I am in no way saying Leona would be a bad ruler. I believe that he and Falena compensate for each other's weaknesses. This is why I feel that the best solution isn't a blanket "X brother would be better than Y brother!", but rather that they should work as a team and make the best use of each other's strengths.

adfaiifvifiaef efoubfia LEONA SACRIFICING HIMSELF FOR RUGGIE I PRETTY MUCH SAW COMING 😭 Bro had to do something to make up for almost sanding him in book 2...

I really glossed over Leona's big confrontation with his Phantom in my initial reaction post, so I'd like to take the time to comment more on it here. A lot of what Leona tells his Phantom I felt was also the kind of advice he gave Jamil in book 6 (which only further reinforces the idea that he had hope for Jamil but not for himself). He dislikes people who complain about their situation but do nothing to change the circumstances... ALL TRUE OF BOTH HIM AND JAMIL. I think what makes Leona’s confrontation so different from the others we’ve seen so far is that while the others are more triumphant/telling the Phantoms how they’ve grown… Leona’s is sort of resigned? Like he still sees his negative traits (his pride, his underhandedness, etc.) and talks about how he has changed as a person but he also admits that this is his fault, that this bitterness and desire to be king will always remain will him. That’s fine—because Leona tells that darkness within himself that he’ll accept it too. (Jack does the same; his senpai are pretty awful but he chooses to accept them as they are.) I really loved that Leona swore to himself he’ll find his own throne and country… “Someday, for sure…!” It feels so hopeful after all that depressing stuff 😢 Reclaiming bis autonomy… Weh…………

asdbihabidbasdsa I still wish they had done a little more with Leona “knowing” it was a dream... Maybe making that "Kifaji is that part of Leona" more obvious or clearly stated because I feel like it could sail over people's heads? It might have also been interesting to see the blot try to suppress him like he's a feral beast that has to be kept under control 😔

DB SDABILASFIADFIAF tHAT DFUCKIBG SJHFBLADAD KING!L*ONa OUTFIT OTL TRHIS SI WHAT A MAN IN A SUIT IWiTH A HLAF CAPE THING AND SLICKED BACK HAIR DOES TO MEDFSKNLABIDBFIABIPEAFFQEIPYIBEUOF8TQEVOpfSBPsnjg 26871t9mg9qepgpeqomp9qvda bipivpada iegi THE EyE LOOK TOO ASDBLABSDSFIAFDI IT'S SCO CUn T Y AKJFHLBADGLBIHAGEIHGABIADGILBHWHICH IS REALLY WEIR FOR ME TO SAY ECUASE I USUALYL THINK THESE KINDS O EYE LOOKS ARE WAY TOO MUCH... . . ..... . . ........ . . .. . AnD TGE ExPOSED fOREHEADvv???!?!!!!!? HELLO ???!!!!!’mmcnNCCCVvV,cvvv???!!!!’nxhVahahshjwhzttTyqhwiau iTm anBEHGinG TO BE k!ssrd TOYcHEDF 🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢

THIS RICH BITCH IS OVER HERE IN A FANCY SU i TS 4 GOLD NECKLACES AND 3 RINGS WHILE HIS PEOPLE STARVE??????? DAMN NO WONDER WHY THEY WANNA EAT TH E RICH.

Side note: a friend pointed out that Leona's coat is basically a reused Octavinelle dorm uniform asset and, after checking... yeah, it basically is 😭 NOT THAT THERE'S ANYHTING WRONG WIH THAT, I just find it ironic because (in my own pseudo-lore) it reads like him trying so hard to be like J word and get my attention 💀💀💀 I AM AFRAID HE ATE AND LEFT NOC RUBMSN....

[double--blind]

(SPOILERS) Ashley, self-esteem, and starvation

So, I adore Ashley. She's this intensely toxic, vicious, cruel, manipulative girl, and her psychology gives me hella brainworms. Andrew's not the only one whose head I wanna crack open and root around lol. She's thrown away the world just to keep her brother by her side, and she'll continue to do worse and worse for the same reason. She's pretty awful! I've been thinking about why, though. How did things get so bad? How did her soul get so dark?

We don't know everything (I'm waiting for those new eps patiently aND CLAWING AT THE WALLS AND FROTHING AT THE MOUTH but whatevs y'know whatevs I'm normal. I'm fine), yet what information we have been given is bumping around my brain like a DVD screensaver on hyperdrive

It's clear from the start that the roots of Ashley's issues lie in her horrible, neglectful upbringing, but it's hinted that even those outside of her family felt the same abt her. I'm lowkey even betting we'll learn later on that she was ostracized by her peers somehow. However, what's most disconcerting, I believe, is how little she was when the results of this alienation are first made apparent to us (bc kids aren't dumb; they notice this stuff oftentimes instinctively, impossibly young, before they even know what it means to be hated), and how devastating the consequences were.

(There's something decidedly childish abt her dream sequence in the "questionable" route—filled with crayon scribbles and rabbit plushies, the metaphors simplistic yet profound—which really hammers in how these sentiments are things that have made a home in her since childhood. Formative subconscious truths.)

Growing up unloved and noticeably unwanted by virtually everyone around her likely left her with a gaping hole in her heart that she'd spend the rest of her life trying to fill. She'd make friends, but she'd always worry that they'd leave her, that they'd betray her, nothing tangible or weighted enough in their connection to trust in its persistence. Why should she expect otherwise? Not even being bound by familial ties ensures affection if her parents are any indication.

Every lesson she'd ever learned had always taught her this: you are easy to abandon. You cannot love and be loved by virtue of your own worth.

You have to rip their affection from their clenched hands if you want it so bad.

This understanding carries with it an undercurrent of degradation, instilling within Ashley a constant, biting inferiority complex which will never fail to be a source of insecurity. She will always be put last. She was difficult to raise, so her parents gave up on raising her. She was difficult to get along with, so her friends gave up on getting along with her.

It's an odd cycle. She's difficult bc she needs to be to get attention, but bc she's difficult, she can't keep it. Not without having whatever fondness she's managed to cultivate within someone fray at the seams, volatile and prone to collapse, bleeding toxicity.

Hence, her relationship w/Andrew.

By being the only reliable constant in her life, caring for her and keeping her company, Andrew essentially became her only source of happiness, and she's since learned not to bother with anyone else. Still, it's dangerous to keep all your eggs in one basket; since he is all she has, she must protect her place in his life with even greater ferocity, which becomes a torturous ordeal when coupled with her damaged self-esteem.

It's apparent in her quarrels with Andrew that she needs constant reassurance that she is wanted in some capacity or perceived in some positive light (getting pouty when Andrew says he's "stuck with her", needing to hear that she's pretty, needing him to "choose her", wanting him to say he loves her back, etc. etc.), yet her insecurity remains, bc unlike her, he's got options. She doesn't think he needs her like she needs him. He's got a gf, their parents love him, her friends love him. Why would he settle for her? What if someone better comes along? Someone she can't scare away?

Wouldn't he just leave her like everyone else?

Even before getting locked in the coffin of their apartment, starvation's been a constant theme in Ashley's life. She's constantly aching for love, and Andrew's the only one who can feed her. When you're forced to fight for a bite to eat or suffer every moment you hunger, you become ravenous—covetous—when faced with food; you don't want the hunger to return, so you lock down the source of your sustenance, wary of its retreat. Ashley's in a permanent state of intense insecurity, always anxious that the love that gives her life will leave her.

Andrew knows Ashley better than anyone else in the world, and it's obvs to everyone and him how desperate Ashley is for him, but I don’t think Andrew has truly, consciously processed the depth of that desperation. It's there buried in his head somewhere no doubt, but rn, he doesn't operate w/the direct awareness that he is everything. He is brother, mother, friend, and soulmate. He is life and love, air and water, everything that is good in the world—everything that there is to justify existence.

It's heartbreaking, in a way, that it's so difficult for Andrew to convince her of his loyalty. This goes further than his tendency to hide his true feelings, bc when push comes to shove, he's at her beck and call. Objectively, he's hers. She doesn't see that bc all she sees is all the ways she can lose him.

So, she gets bratty. She gets pushy, possessive, territorial. Manipulative. Gets under his skin, guilts him to exhaustion, bc she can't see him staying any other way, bc he doesn't get it, bc it works. He bends to her will, for her sake. For now. It's always "for now", bc he'll start slipping away again, and then it'll get worse. She does worse.

Becomes worse.

[lu-is-not-ok]

o mighty hong lu master, the autism i have of him bowing down to you in your honor, i must ask a question relating to his family...

so when dante is overheating in the yield flesh intervallo and they start saying things about the ego and such, hong lu says "they're starting to sound like my grandfather!"

see i dont think hong lu's the type to compare anybody rambling to unrelated rambling so i was wondering if like. there could be any potential meaning in What his grandpa was saying relating to ego or other more crazy stuff!!

since the jia family has had super huge connections ive had maybe the idea of like. i dunno they had some insider knowledge in the past and they sent hong lu out specifically to find out more about what the more unnatural parts of the city entail since limbus as a company is secretive about that stuff. so they want to understand it proper... but that does feel a Bit out there. what do you think :3c

There is some interesting things in this ask that I wanna discuss. However, you might find some of my answers... a little bit disappointing in places. I'm gonna try to take these things point by point.

Canto 7 spoilers onward.

Hong Lu's Grandfather

There are exactly two mentions of Hong Lu's Grandfather in the game as of now iirc. The scene you mention, where Hong Lu compares Dante's ramblings to his grandfather, and another mention in the Observation Logs for Pink Shoes, where Hong Lu brings up the fact that his Grandfather would scold him and pester him into keeping a diary, something he claims he used to hate but is now not so averse to.

The most interesting thing about Hong Lu's Grandfather is that there is no living grandfather figure in Dream of The Red Chamber. Baoyu is only ever mentioned to have a grandmother. This already puts some intrigue on him, as he's a complete wildcard adaptation-wise. There is no real way for us to predict what his deal is based on DOTRC.

That means that the fact that Hong Lu compares Dante's ramblings about ego and sin to how his Grandfather talks is something to note for sure. However... well, I'll get to it.

The Knowledge the Jia Family has

Canto 7 came with some major reveals about the Jia Family due to Xichun's presence and her interactions with Hong Lu. More specifically, we know roughly what kind of esoteric knowlege the Jia Family possesses, and what they're looking for.

Xichun, and by extension the rest of the Family, are aware of the existence of the Rivers - one of which being the River of Oblivion that was introduced in Canto 7, as well as, very likely, the very same River that Lobcorp would draw from using Cogito. So yes, it's not unlikely for the Jia Family to have some awareness of the more supernatural side that the human subconscious possesses. Hell, Xichun herself outright states she, in some way, can sense Bari's past presence, who need I remind you is also the Bookhunter from one of the bad endings in Library of Ruina.

However, that's not all! Xichun also reveals what exactly the Family is looking for, and what they sent out the current candidates for becoming the next Family Head for - a River that can grant immortality. Specifically, "the immortality of the mind", which Hong Lu himself describes as "to be free from aging and death".

So, hey, case closed right? We know exactly why Hong Lu was sent out now, don't we?

Well... it's not that simple. Because, unfortunately, there's some things I want to correct you on before I conclude this.

Hong Lu's Comparisons

Here's the thing with Hong Lu. Unlike what you say, he is absolutely the type to compare different unrelated things with each other. In fact, one of his major MOs during conversations is using tangentially related anecdotes to steer conversations - see how he brought up his sibling cheating at a game in response to Heathcliff doing a jab at rich people in Canto 2, or how on the empty party ship in Canto 5 he goes off on a tangent about a spooky story that's barely related to the situation at hand.

Deflection and distraction is something Hong Lu does a lot, especially right after he says things that are concerning or otherwise don't get a positive reaction out of others. His comparisons of things going on to his home is one of those kinds of deflections/distractions. In fact, I'd say it's a lot more common for him to compare things that aren't That related rather than compare things that are Actually related.

So while I do think it is something to note that Hong Lu compares Dante's ramblings to those of his Grandfather, I really don't think the connection here is nearly as strong as you posit.

Yes, we know the Jias have knowledge that most common folk in the City don't have access to, among which is the knowledge of the Rivers. It's also very likely that this is the kind of thing Hong Lu's Grandfather could go on tangents on, especially with how many of the Rivers we currently know of having effects that affect specifically the mind.

That being said, since this is Hong Lu we're talking about, I doubt the connection is as direct as his Grandfather literally rambling about the exact same topic. Again, we're talking about the guy who, upon hearing the mention of shareholders, shares an anecdote about a sibling trying to get a specific color of passport as justification for asking about whether Vergilius specifically knows the shareholder of H Corp. The connections he makes aren't usually all that strong, and that's kind of the point.

Which is where I have to talk about the elephant in the room.

Hong Lu almost definitely lied about why he left the Jia Household

See, in TKT Hong Lu shares that he was sent out by his elders to "see and experience as much of the world as possible before he returns", but... isn't it kind of strange?

That doesn't match what Xichun said about what the Family Head Candiates were sent out into the worl for. They're meant to be looking for immortality specifically, not fucking around and learning as much as they can.

And, in fact, this isn't the only thing Xichun says that clashes with Hong Lu's version of events. In fact, I'd argue it outright proves that he lied about it - she shares that the Jias are actively looking for him. If Hong Lu was really sent out to gather as many experiences and knowledge as possible, why would they want to cut that short by finding him and bringing him back by force?

That's not all in fact. This exact same story is what Hong Lu tells in his Wing IDs, the ones where it's confirmed he directly got the positions because of nepotism. But, again, that's strange. If he's meant to be experiencing the world and learning new things, why would the Jias put him in jobs that require he stays in a single specific place most of the time? K Corp Hong Lu's Uptie story outright draws attention to this, pointing out how odd it is for someone whose job involves being put in stasis in some vat for extended periods of time until they need to do some killing to have been given that job to "experience more of the world".

So, if Hong Lu is lying about why he left his home... what actually happened? Do we have any hints?

Turns out... yes. A very, very major hint in fact. Because you see, this is the Corrosion line Hong Lu says in his newly released Lasso E.G.O.

This is the only time anything Rose Hunter related calls the subject avoiding their fate a fugitive and makes a direct reference to running away. I don't think it's a coincidence.

Because if this line is a direct reference to Hong Lu, to him literally running away from his fate and escaping the Jia household, it would certainly explain some things.

Why would the Jias be out actively looking for him? Because he's not actually supposed to be out like this.

Why would his Wing Identities be put in environments where Hong Lu is primarily confined to specific locations? Because the Jias don't want him out of their sight.

Why would his claim that he's looking forward to going back home be so contradictory to how he acts and tries to prolong his time outside of the household? Because he's lying, either to himself or others, and doesn't actually want to go back.

Hell, it would even provide some context to certain other oddities about him.

Why would he know not just how effective a rich household's security system is at killing people, but also how to safely get past it (based on what he says about Wuthering Heights in Canto 6)? Because he might have had to do so himself to escape.

Why would his ID picture, likely taken right after he was found by Limbus Company, have him in a very plain tracksuit, completely unlike the traditional and fancy clothing the rest of his Family is seen wearing? Because dressing plainly would help him blend in once he got out of there.

So, yes, the Jia Family is sending out its young members to search for something supernatural within the City. However, I believe Hong Lu is an exception and wasn't supposed to be out at all.

[pigeonstab]

I must know

What do you think about the apple twins, and do you have your own interpretation of them and their relationship? :D

(Also your art skills, hand them over 🫴 your art is stunning, gorgeous and I must confess that i love to scroll through your blog sometimes just so i could look at your beautiful art chchchchch <3333)

HI hello!! I was not expecting to see you in my inbox person that is way cooler than me JHI

I already wrote this once I'm gonna do it again. just Better and more concise.

Iiiiii think they're tragic, they're the song call them brothers by Regina Spektor to me. The thing about my interpretation is that my Nightmare is very different from yours I think. I also like to throw canon out of the window whenever I please.

SO, to start at the beginning, to me they were very very close as little kids, they only had each other y'know? the apple incident only happened when they were like 12/13 right at that age where you start to question everything and reject what you know. By then there's a lot more friction between the twins, they still love and care for each other yes, but arguments are more frequent, tempers are shorter. They always come back to each other though. They're each other's best friend, biggest annoyance and only comfort. It's the perfect time the tear them apart, they're in a vulnerable state where even their duty is something they question: is staying to guard a tree all they're gonna do with their life? (Nightmare thinks yes, Dream thinks no). The villagers know this, and that's the precursor to the apple incident. Weaker, more unsure and divided twins means Nightmare's the only one at the tree when they come to take it down (I do also think aging them up makes Nm's actions make more sense? Idk) So. Nm's gooped up, Dream's in stone, talk about changes in your body when you reach that age eh.

I think Nightmare for his first years out into the multiverse was very angry. He was alone (as he feels he's always been) and the negativity coupled with the immense trauma, he's really not doing well. he's stewing in all of this hate and his guilt is eating him alive. He hates himself and he doesn't want to think about it. His plan is to shove everything down: He's always been alone anyway. The incident was his brother's fault. his brother was never there for him. He comes to these conclusions and he accepts them as truth. He eventually chills out, he detaches himself. He starts to think he's better than all of that, that he's above it. He's only keeping those ideas more as subconscious truths than mantras to live by. Then he recruits Killer? (and this is where I uh. I don't know Killer's lore. and also I like... when Nightmare's nice. also by now Nightmare has his english teacher meets Silco swag) and it's alright.

Until! Dream gets unstuck, the first meeting with Dream after the whole incident things go ballistic inside his brain. all those truths he's made for himself are making him want to put all the fault on Dream and see him as an enemy (as well as his own denial, guilt and self hatred.) But at the same time that's his brother. His mirror. His blood. His childhood. He knows inside he can't hate Dream. He can say he does, but it's all lies and denial. So he's just torn.

Dream on his end, is completely lost in the multiverse, he's like a bleeding wound where Nightmare's a scabbed over one. Seeing what his brother has become is devastating to him.

I don't really have the whole in between planned, but Nm gets all his tcheam and he acts like their boss, he does care about their safety and wellbeing he just feels like he shouldn't get close. (I like to think he rescued them from their aus like he wished somebody had done with him (Dust and Horror would have stayed in theirs but it's more of a case of 'fuck it why not' than anything, especially for Dust)) he keeps a lot from them, about his brother and how he truly feels. Killer knows a lot though, cause he's like that. And I think Dream get introduced to Ink and all that good stuff.

ALSO are you kidding me YOU draw so good you're like 10x the artist I am that's just thank you so much?? I didn't think anyone went scrolling through my blog to find my stuff, I'm gonnv cry. I didn't think you liked it that much qwq or at all

[jr-acrux101]

Meeting Abby -

(Extension of Carousel - prequel)

Summary: What Mike didn't know was the two of you had already met, and Abby wholeheartedly approved.

Word count: 2.3k

Tags: pre-established relationship, fluff, dates

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This was your 3rd date since the carousel meeting. Mike was still well Mike, the more quiet, nonchalant, and tired type.

Mike really was interested in you but his mannerisms did leave you questioning if he did or of he was trying to get a quick fuck.

The two of you sat at the diner, it was 1 in the morning. It was an odd ass hour to have a date but Mike said it was because of his work hours. Though there was a tinge of fear that maybe you were a side chick or he was trying to land some action.

You were wide awake, you had a nap after class so the sleep wasn't creeping on you but it was slowly on Mike.

Every so often he would nod off and blink himself awake, hoping you wouldn't know; you did.

"Do you want to schedule this for another time?"

He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head 'no.'

"You look tired Mike."

He liked it when you said his name, and showed concern.

"S fine. I have a semi-normal shift tomorrow."

"Then you should be sleeping then. I don't mind waiting. "

Mike didn't want to say so he shrugged instead. "S fine," he repeated.

You gave a sigh but nodded. You noticed the book by. "What's the title?" You asked, cutting the country fried steak to eat.

"Oh um it's called dream theory. It's … hmm.. it's about how every single thing we see is stored in our brain in like this deep vault and dreaming subconsciously unlock those tiny details."

"Hmm. I think I've something similar to the whole we remember everything subconsciously but I never really looked into it. Though I guess it could explain my art."

"Your art?"

"Yeah about half my paintings are landscapes, but I don't really remember any of those places when I was too small. Like um when we went to see snow the 3rd time around when I was a little older and able to grasp some things, I remember I dreamt this oasis of cold in the redwood forest, a tree had fallen down and was mostly covered but some red was showing. Anyway, I dreamt it but don't remember the actual day, just that one scene and when I painted it my mom was shocked I even remembered that specific place. I was still small, she even showed me pictures."

"What made it stick out that you mom knew it was the place you guys went too?"

"Oh um hehe yeah, there was this small grave with flowers on it. It was in the painting as well."

"How old were you?"

"Maybe anywhere from 3 to 5."

"And you remember that detail."

"I'm assuming so, the picture my mom showed was when I was like 1 but we revisited again about that age range. There were no pictures at that spot again because of the grave. We recently started going again and I leave flowers."

"That's nice, I mean to leave flowers for someone you don't really know."

"Yeah, I guess. It was such a lonely place for a grave though so I guess maybe that's why I leave flowers, so they're spirits can know someone else enjoys that spot too. They must have really loved it to be buried there."

"You believe in spirits and the afterlife and all that?"

You hesitated, "I don't know. Do you?"

"Maybe," was his short reply. The conversation came to a stop as the two of you ate quietly.

Glancing at the time, you say it was 1:30 a.m. now.

You quickly finish as Mike finishes his. "Come on l, get up." You leave $25 on the table for the food and tip. Mike protests but still allows himself to get dragged away.

The moon is full, and the asphalt is wet from the earlier rain. You jump on the bed of the small beat pick up truck, patting the seat next to you. Mike took the offer and sat next to you.

With the dead of night and few lights, the two of you stargaze. Mike listens as you ramble on and on about the constellations, giving a nodded and humm of acknowledgment to show he's following along.

He looked at you. As you talked and talked, he loved how your hair frames your face, or how he noticed you fret about your mascara even now and then especially if you laughed a little too hard you'd cry a bit, he liked how passionate you got, and he really liked how kind you were.

While he would get praised for taking care of his sister from strangers, for being kind and self-less. He still felt selfish in a way.

He looked at your headband, shiny black and small. Abby popped into his mind. He knew that after texting for a day he was already too deep to let this be a fling.

It became silent after you were done listing the constellations, now just appreciating the night.

Mike cleared his throat to talk, and you turned your attention to him.

"Would…," he breathed out, "would you want to meet my little sister Abby?"

Your eyes widened in shock. While Mike didn't say much, he said even less about his sister. Another reason why you thought this was maybe just a fling, or trial run before he really got out there.

You opened your mom to speak but nothing came out.

Mike sighed and got up. "It's fine. I gotta go-," "Wait!"

Mike stared as you went up, "I wanna meet her! I do, really. It's just I was shocked since you've never like well talk about her."

Mike stared at you still not really knowing what to say. "Look Mike. What do you want out of this? Before asking if I wanted to meet your sister I was kind of getting the impression this was like a fling. And I'm not really interested in a fling right now."

"Oh."

"Oh?" You questioned.

"Well what made you think this was a fling?"

Mike looked down, not really wanting to look you in the eyes. "I don't know, I just got the feeling you weren't too interested. Mike, well we've only been together for about 3 dat3s. I genuinely can't recall anything you like or dislike or memories you've shared. Even when I text you it feels a bit one-sided."

"Oh."

You hummed as you continued to look at the stars, giving Mike some time to collect his thoughts.

"I'm not really a big talker if you haven't noticed. To be honest, I like to listen to you talk. You have a nice voice."

"Okay."

He gave you a look, "Okay?"

"Okay I can work with that. I just needed to know if it was disinterest or if that's just how you are."

"So it's fine? If I don't speak a lot most of the time."

"I guess we'll find out together, but between you and me I like that whole stoic, "bad boy" look / attitude you have."

Mike laughed and smirked. "Bad boy?"

"Mike every now and then you look like a genuine degenerate."

Mike raised his eyebrow. He closed the distance between the two of you. "Yeah? Isn't that what you like though." He whispered before he gave you a chaste kiss.

You blushed and gave a small laugh. "Yes, yes I do."

You brought out your phone and the time read 2:30 a.m.

"What time do you have work?"

"11 a.m. to 5 p.m."

"Mike!"

He had an amused look on his face, "What?"

"Oh my god! Go home already you have work in less than 12 hours ! You still have to sleep!"

"Don't sleep much to be honest." You huffed air out of your nose.

"Well you should."

Mike grinned, and he put his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. "I like the color green."

You smiled back. "Green? Hmm…"

"Hmmm… what?"

"It fits you."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yeah of course, green is a very strong but soothing color."

"It is."

The two of you sat in silence before Mike's phone rang. He looked at it and rolled his eyes.

"Hello. Yeah. Yeah, got it. Okay I'm on my way."

He gave a sigh, "Sorry that was my aunt. I asked her to babysit but I guess something came up at her place."

"Oh okay that's fine. Text me when you get home so I know you made home safe."

He gave a tired smile, "Isn't that my line to you?"

"It would be if you weren't running on minimal sleep."

"Fair enough. But text me too okay, in case I forgot while talking to my aunt or you get home first."

You gave a nod and he gave you another chaste kiss. You blushed again, and smiled. He hopped off the truck and waved bye. You waved as he left the parking lot in his beat up car.

You rushed inside your car and towards home, excited to tell your friends everything.

With texts of 'I'm home,' and 'goodnight' s, the two of you feel asleep dreaming of each other.

A week had passed before Mike brought up meeting Abby again. This date was way earlier and on his day off.

"Do you think she'll like me?"

Mike paused. "I'm not sure to be honest. Not ! Not that you're unlikable or anything like that! She's just a timid kid, hell she barely likes me."

"I'm sure she likes you Mike."

"Yeah well you haven't met her," he grumbled.

You gave an amused look but relented. "So she gets out in an hour right?"

Mike nodded.

"Okay and you said she likes art right? To draw and such?"

Mike nodded again. "Okay, perfect. I'll be back here at 3!"

As you started to slide out the booth, Mike stared at you confused. "Wait where are you going?"

"Don't worry I'll be back." You practically dash out the door to your car.

Mike gave a frustrated sigh and got up after paying the bill. 'I guess I'll just have to wait until 3 too then.' He ran a hand through his curly hair and hopped in his car.

Mike parked at the diner, looking back at Abby. "Okay we're gonna meet a friend of mine okay Abs?"

Abby furrowed her brows, "Your girlfriend?"

Mike nodded. Abby stayed silent. He got out of the car as did she. He held her hand as they entered, he spotted you immediately.

You h/c shining from the sun, you were drinking water while reading a book. Lost in your own world Mike cleared his throat. You looked up at him and then down at the little girl.

Abby recognized you as you recognized her. "Hi!”

Before you could get another word in, Abby motioned you forward. You raised an eyebrow towards who gave a shrug reply but you went with her request.

“Don't tell Mike about Mr. Bunny.” She said in a hushed whisper.

You stared at her then at Mike and then at her again. “Okay. Got it. But why?”

Abby looked at Mike, shoved him slightly to get away from their secrets. She cupped her hand, “Because I want to have a secret between us. I like you, you gave my Mr. Bunny when you didn't have to.”

You gave a warm smile, “ Okay deal. Pinky promise, and seal the deal.”

As you pinky crossed and thumbs stamped together, Mike gave you an expectant look.

Abby slid in across from you and Mike sat next to her.

“What?” He rolled his eyes.

“What were you two whispering about?”

“It's a secret!” Shouted Abby.

Mike looked at you again. “Sorry can't see, those are the secret rules and it's backed by a stamped pink promise. You'll never know.” You have a sad look and shrugg. Abby laughed at your expression and Mike shook his head.

“Well I guess it can't be helped.” You and Abby nodded.

You remembered a thought, “Oh yeah!” You rummaged through your bag and got the present for Abby you bought.

“Here you go Abby. It's a sketchbook for your private drawings.”

“Private drawings?” She turned her head to the side.

You smiled at her, “Yeah, drawings for yourself. I have a lot of them that I don't wanna share because they're private and for me.”

“You draw!”

You nodded and hummed. “Can you draw me something?”

“Uh sure. Is it fine if it's in your book?”

She nodded vigorously. “Okay what do you want me to draw?”

She pondered the question. “Oh! A bunny!”

“A bunny? Hmm okay like a realistic bunny or a cartoon?”

“Cartoon.”

“Yeah sure.”

Mike smiled. “Yeah she's been obsessed with bunny's after some girl won one and gave it to her instead.”

You fought off the smile as you drew, and Abby giggled. Mike gave her a questioning look but all Abby did was stick out her tongue, which Mike did back, only for a split second though.

Mike and Abby watched as you sketched out the cartoon bunny, erasing and redoing the line a couple of times. You finished the outline as food came, Mike ate and watched as you stuck your tongue out slightly finishing up the little details. It had a top hat and a bow.

“Alright Abby, here you go!”

Abby squealed in delight. “Thank you!” She stared are your drawing as she ate, it did resemble Mr. Bunny. Mike noticed that too but thought it was a mere coincidence.

The meal went smoothly, with Abby begging for a shake and Mike giving in. Sitting here, you thought it was nice, maybe something to get accustomed to. In fact, you hoped it was.

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Y'all I can't stop writing im procrastinating 😩 anyway enjoy!!

Taglist: @stinkii-boii @hellothisisprincesskitty

[mikobeautifulheart]

7 minutes in panic. College Gojo x reader

1700 WORDS EXACTLY.

The one time you decide to go to a party, it goes wrong.

TW: Use of drugs (U get drugged) and are stuck in a small closet for 7 minutes. (Btw there is no smut, just fluff)

UNEDITED AND VERY SELF INDULGET so it might not make much sense?

You had never been to a party before, let alone one in a cramped dorm spilling with people, even some of them in the hallway standing, drinking, talking and shamelessly making out. 

This is probably what you expected but you couldn't help but feel nervous, god why did you go alone? Was it because you're only 2 reliable friends who knew it was a dumb idea-

Walking down the hallway the smell of sweat and alcohol got stronger filling your lungs almost making you get drunk in the air. Why did you even come? Whatever it's too late to turn back might as well commit.

The room was cramped and the music was muffled by all the people surrounding the speaker. You walked toward the counter and picked up a red cup, typical just like the movies, but nothing bad or dramatic is going to happen to you, right? You held the cup awkwardly looking at your hands, almost hesitating to drink the contents, you didn't know what was in it and the smart people would have their suspicions about it, but why worry? You were to stressed anyway you needed a break.

As much as you didn't mind the workload, you loathed the assigned partnered assignments because you were always paired with Gojo.

You already knew him through your other friends, Geto and Shoko.

You didn't mind always being paired with him and he always did his work load, sometimes you'd have to do a bit of his part but he would always thank you with a surprise, usually some sweets.

The worst part was just that he was...hot. He always made your heart forget how to function when you two work together.

‘“And what are you doing here? I thought you weren't the one to frequent parties?” You were snapped out of your imagination only to be faced with someone's chest- you looked up and wow… it was him, Gojo.

“Uh well um I just, its,” you let out an airy laugh trying to distract him from the blush on your face. 

“I don't have anything to work on right now so I thought id give it a shot…” You subconsciously took a drink out of the cup you were holding, breaking eye contact with him.

“I can tell '' he laughed and smiled pleasantly toward you.

Oh gosh if only you'd have a chance, he's not top of the class but he is smart when he really thinks and a sports legend. His biceps easily make its presence known out of the short sleeved shirt that fit him all too well. He was the dream guy, but you, you thought you were nothing compared to him.

You didn't love yourself but you didn't hate yourself, you sort of just accepted the way you look so you just worked with it.

You turned to leave the party as you heard someone yell

"SPIN THE BOTTLE" followed by loads of cheers.

“Leaving already?” He said with his brows furrowed

“Uh I think i'm going to get some air, it's hot in here” you flashed a smile.

You started to push your way through the crowd. It was rough but then you felt a hand latch onto your wrist.

“Hold on tight” Gojo looked at you before guiding you through the many, many people.

Your heart nearly burst. You eventually reached a window putting your elbows down on the window sill and placing your head in your hands.

“I saw your last basketball game, nice win” You said, giving him a smile before turning your head up to the sky.

“You-you watched my game?”

You looked at him puzzled until you saw him rubbing the back of his neck with a blush creeping up his neck.

“Uh yeah you looked really good to” You said

“LOOKED GOOD PLAYING-” Trying to save yourself from the embarrassing comment you let slip out. Must have been the drink making you lose focus.

There was silence in the air then you heard two familiar voices, it was Geto and Shoko singing along terribly to the song playing with slurred words and drunk voices. 

“I think i'm going to head in again, are you coming? Totally fine if you're not you don't have too” Gojo said looking to the side trying to avoid your gaze.

"I wouldn't mind that'' you said, waking up beside him taking your opportunity.

The door is pushed open and you walk over to Geto and Shoko, you told them you were going with Gojo and might leave early so they wouldn't worry about you.

You mentioned something about Gojo before the room erupted with a mixed reaction of jealousy and excitement. Looking back from your side there it was… a bottle pointing at you. Puzzled you follow the gazes of the room until you realised it was Gojo on the other side of the room looking at you. He was the one that had spun the bottle and accidently roped you into the game "7 minutes in heaven". A guy drags you and Gojo by the wrists and pushed both you guys in a closed down the hallway from the party.

It was dusty and small but still enough space for you to lean against the wall and have one step of space between the two of you. A lock sound was heard outside the door. This was it you were stuck.

"Ha...sorry you are here right now I didn't mean it." Gojo said looking at you in the dark.

You fidgeted in the dark unconfutably. How do you even stand here with the guy you like and do nothing?

“Relax.” The sudden feeling of his head into the crook of your neck threw you off.

You leaned in wrapping your arms around his torso muffling a quick “I like you”.

Oh god, what did you do? You really shouldn't havce come tonight.

You felt him sink into your neck even more and muffle a

“I like you too”. 

You could feel it reverberate against your skin. Gojo slowly pulled back, your body warmth suddenly dropped and you were cold but that didn't matter right now. The urge to kiss him was unbearable.

You leaned in a little closer a jolt of shock ran through your nerves and you felt your legs give way, you couldn't stand up properly and slowly fell forward into Gojo's chest.

“Are-e you okay?!?” he said voice shaky as he held you up and spotted a bit of blood trickling down your lips. 

“I can't feel my legs, I think I'm going to pass out-” you gasped at the sharp pain in your throat causing more blood to trickle down your bottom lip.

“It must have been the drink” he swiftly picked you up bridal style (yessss -////-).

Someone had spiked your drink with how knows what and what it and what they planed to do when it came into effect. It had only been 4 minutes out of the 7 so the door was still locked.

“SOMEBODY OPEN THIS UP” Gojo yelled while kicking at the door.

It wouldn't budge and everything around you went fuzzy. Gojo could feel you going limp in his arms and in panic he kicked the closet door one last time with all his strength.

The door flew the hinges and walked out trying to keep you awake and responding. As he carried you down the hallway there were whispers and snickers.

“Hey man, I can take her from here. She just needs to sleep so hand here over and just enjoy the party.” A seemingly drunk dude said.

“I don't think I will, now move.” Barging past the man harshly quickening his pace to his apartment not too far off campus. It must have been the guy, he must have spiked all the drinks.

The moon shone and your breath slowed down along with your heart rate, everything was foggy but you tried your best to stay awake as you clung onto Gojo’s shirt. 

“Hang in there” He said as he unlocked the door and sat you on his kitchen counter. You were struggling to sit up straight and not fall over while clinging on to the edge of the counter.

the sounds of quick opening and closing of the draws and cupboards filled the room. The tap was on and there were stirring sounds, it was safe to say you had no idea what was going on and your dazed state wasn't helping. 

“Drink this.” he held the cup up to your lips and you drank it, you were too weak to even refuse. Not that you wanted to anyway.

You drank it all and your head leaned into Gojo's back as he placed the cup down on the opposite counter.

You wrapped your arms around him and mumbled a ‘Thanks’ he turned around carefully holding your face in his hands. The blood coming from your lip had dried, he leaned in closer to your face.#

Was it wrong to kiss you now? You were still dazed, but he couldn't help it when you leaned in your head closer and said

“It’s okay” while your vision slowly flooded back, thank goodness that Gojo took notes and remembered the lectures in chemistry with you when you both did the assignment.

Leaning in Gojo looks past you out to the window outside, it began sprinkling and you were in no way in any shape or form, able to walk back to campus in the weather soon to come.

He was so absorbed with his thoughts that he failed to notice his lips brush up against yours.

His eyes widened but when you did pull away he went straight in for it your arms around his neck lazily hanging off his shoulders as one hand supported you back and his other holding the back of your head gently. He slowly pulled back and watched your eyes flutter open, the sight made his heart skip.

“You don't think you'll regret this?” Gojo said with his attention all on you pending for your answer.

“Best first kiss of my life” you smiled at him before pulling him in again by his collar.

THANKS FOR READING ♡

AUTHORS NOTE: This was very self indulgent. Not my best work but I'll post it just for fun. I haven't written a Gojo fic yet so this isnt totaly great but its an okay start ig. Reblogs r welcomed and thanks for reading.

EDIT: When people ask what my greatest accomplishment is, it's 100% the fact that ponderingmoonlight liked my fic. No hesitation.

[sueheesblog]

Let's talk about some stuff! SZN 3: SPOILERS I watched the season after I saw some spoilers on X and from friends lmao. I didn't sleep. Sorry for the typos n shit. I need to vent.

- First off, Syd and Cousin carried the whole fxcking SZN on their backs, while Carmy was too busy being a psycho. Ayo n Ebon deserves all the awards. JAW is a fantastic actor - 10/10 for all 3 of them. Everyone else did great too, Napkin was 😭😭😭 AYO DID THAT. Those 3 are legends in my eyes!!!! If Ayo leaves or if the writers do her dirtier in SZN 4 I'm DONE. I cried for her this SZN, n for Carm too.

- All of Sydcamry scenes for some reason gave me butterflies even though they drifted farther apart each eps. Syd getting Carmy's dish was top tier - incredible writing from the writers. I just need them to explain more - what is the purpose of having Syd n Carmy tied together - if Claire is so great why not tied her to Carmy? Why does she seem like someone who died, haunting Carmy like his toxic boss? She more unbearable this season n I think it's intentional.

- Some ppl were saying Claire had alittle more substance this SZN and I beg to differ. She's like a dead gf to me. Her scenes with Carmy are so cold, dead, and heavy - like a burden. She triggers my anxiety n I don't know y - n I don't want to be mean, but just how their scene are edited, it literally puts me at the edge of a panic attack. The writers had the audacity to call her PEACE. I did not experience peace watching her scene and I think Carmy feels the same way from the jump. So, Fxck no, she ain't PEACE, that's Syd and it's obvious.

- Claire being labeled as PEACE makes no sense - the writers are trying too hard n it's make me sick. If she's so great, let her n Carmy run/manage The Bear.

- Syd is the invisible string that's holding everyone together in this chaotic sh!thole, while babysitting Carmy and keeping him from combusting. Unc, Nat, Pete, COUSIN, Marcus, and everyone else are staying afloat because Syd is the fxcking life vest that's strapped to their chest.

- Syd is calm, organized, observant, caring, considerate etc. Yet, these fxcking writers said Claire was peace- that line had my blood boilingggggggg.

- Syd's relationship with her Dad is everything

- Sydcarmy is sooo far apart it physically hurts. They didn't even do ther sign thing over their chest this season.......I get this feeling (just a FEELING) that Syd might be in love or has a crush on CARMY 😭😭😭. The margin wider scene gave me that vibe. When you like someone, you notice every little thing they do. There were times I wanted her to hug him soooo bad, I just felt like if she did if would've grounded him. He really needed a hug this season.

- Something I think some of you might have missed. Remember SZN1 Ep1 when Syd said her dad ate at The Beef on Sundays. We got confirmation from Carm, in SZN 3 that The Beef/The Bear only closes on Sundays. 😂😂🤣😂 (this was in the scene with him n Claire in a dark room or whatever. It might have been a dream scene idk) So, Carm knew Syd lied. I need the writers to have Carm n Syd talk about it and the meal she had in NYC. These are only a few important stuff they hid in the storytelling and I need to know WHYYYYYYYY.

- Carmy had a panic attack during service. Syd's voice took him off the edge. And I must say, her voice could really calm me down too lmao.

These fxcking writers are lowkey abusing Syd at this point. She's being stretched thin, and again this is also why I think she's in love with Carmy. It hurts her, but she's so into him, connected to him physically n mentally. It's really hard for her to let him or The Bear. It reminds me of the time Donna said "I make things pretty for others, but no one makes things pretty for me" not being verbatim lol. Syd did sooo much heavy lifting this SZN and no one noticed it, they all subconsciously over look her and gave all praises to Claire and making her the peace and angel.

- We finally saw Syd broke tf down in ep 10. Baby girl couldn't be strong anymore. She doesn't want to leave Carmy or The Bear but after the round table talk with the workers from Ever. She realized that Carmy - the person she idolize or even love/crush on, might not be good for her. Carmy is trying but the communication is lacking so bad, and on top of that he's pushing her away.

At this point, the partnership agreement seems like a trap to keep her. If Unc cut his connection to The Bear that's going to be Syd last straw. And if she leaves, I kinda see Tina, Marcus, and maybe COUSIN going with her or they will stay and give Carmy HELLL for losing her. The tables would turn. Everyone is so hang up on Claire leaving, if Syd leaves, Claire would go straight through the window. That would be the moment of realization (for all of them. Especially Carmy) that the woman he really NEEDS is Syd and not Claire. But for some reason, they all think Syd ain't going nowhere which is so naive. She got a bigggg offer and I can't wait to see when she tells Carmy. Would he confess her importance to him to keep her? Would he beg her to stay? Would he listen more or communicate more to keep her? Would he ask her what would make her stay at The Bear? Or would he be a b!tch and tell her to go cauase it's a great opportunity? And then after confess that he's having a hard time letting her go. Very interesting stuff.

- Last thing - Unc talking to Syd. I was shock he was looking to Syd for answers as to what's going on with Carmy. This was also telling. Unc believes or senses that these too are CLOSE. And Syd being a good gf/partner kept her mouth closed. SYD is an angel sent from heaven, cause I would be so done with The Bear😭😭😭😭.

We saw that Carmy and Syd are having conversations that we are not seeing on screen. For example, he asked her about her new apartment. When did she tell him?? He then asked about her dad. Sir, what about her dad? Did she tell him about the annoying bathroom exchange? Are they sharing more about their personal life that we, the audience is not seeing? So many fxcking questions in SZN3.

This is just my thoughts. I saw the season once so this not an analysis.

[lovintasteslike]

Stone Cold Under Your Feet

One where drunk actions have harsh consequences

Word count: 700+

a/n: now whyd this actually take me so long. the ending is so trash. also I just saw a pic of niall getting kfc with basil standing behind him idk why that's so funny to me. anyways send me requests plsss

You wake to a sharp ringing and a glow illuminating the room from your bedside table, interrupting your dream of...who knows what. You think it must have been a good one as your brain tries to grasp onto sleep again.

Your arm remains sprawled onto your right hand side of the bed, Niall's side, as your brain processes the noise coming from behind you.

Once the ringing subsided, your eyes start to droop, breathing slowing, until you perk up, finally realizing that Niall hasn't come home from his night out with the boys.

Thought finally enters your brain as you reach your hand back in the direction of your phone, mindlessly trying to find it in the dark of your bedroom. You brush your fingers along it, then grasp it, bringing it to your face. Your eyes squint to adjust to the light. As you click on the 'missed call' notification, Deo's caller id returns to the screen.

You slide your finger across the screen to accept the call.

"Hello," You speak first, your voice groggy.

"Ya gotta come down 'ere, y/n."

"Hm? Whaddya mean..."

"They're saying Niall broke his foot. We're at t'emergency room by Queen's Arms. Y'might wanna see this."

The remaining drowsiness quickly drains out of you as you hear the words, "emergency room," out of Niall's cousins mouth. You throw the comforter off your body and rush to find some clothing, grabbing the first thing in sight. His beloved Speak Up sweatshirt.

"The emergency room- wha- why hasn't Niall called me." In a scramble to start the Range Rover (which you hate driving because of it's enormous size), your phone falls beneath the seats.

"Ah mate, he's completely out of it a' t'moment"

"Like you're any better," you mumble under your breath. "I- just- I'm coming, okay? I'm ten minutes out. Don't do anything stupid, I'm begging you."

Before he could even take a breath to respond, you hastily grab your phone, ending the call to focus on the road in front.

...

The emergency room practically empty this late at night, or...early in the morning, whatever it may be, the doctor leads you to your boyfriend. He pulls the curtain back to reveal Niall laying on the bed, eyes shut and tugging his fingers through his hair. His leg is propped up at the foot of the bed where a nurse stands, wrapping his leg with cloth.

She looks back towards you.

"Are you the spouse?"

Niall's eyes shoot open, lifting his head just enough to be able to make eye contact with you. Your lips tug slightly at the sight of Niall's distressed position, but you hold back. You look back to the nurse, sarcastically sighing.

"Unfortunately so," you let out humorously.

The kind nurse smiles. "I'll excuse myself to give you two some privacy."

You nod at her, mouthing a thank you.

Niall sits there with his hands in his lap, one resting on his thigh. You look at him with a sympathetic glance before moving closer, taking a seat beside him. His head falls onto your shoulder and your hand subconsciously comes up to play with his hair, offering him whatever comfort you can give.

Niall, glossy eyed either from the pain or the pints, looks up at you.

"Did they tell y'what happened?"

"Had to pry it out of Capaldi, but yea..."

A beat of silence goes by before he starts again. "Why'd ya come 'ere?" You look down at him, raising your eyebrows. "You'll be tired when ya go t'work tomorrow."

You click your tongue and nod your head side to side, telling him no. "Your foot is one step away from dangling off and you're worried about my sleep."

"Ya wanna see it?" He asks, grabbing the X-ray papers from the side of the bed. "It's gnarly stuff."

He opens the folded paper and you grimace in disgust at the sight of ligaments torn and misaligned from his foot.

"'M not leaving you alone at home while you're like THAT"

"Yer gonna stay home for me?" The puppy dog eyes stared lovingly at your face. "Awww," he says, placing a hand over his heart. He squeezes you tight in a hug. "Love ya so much, petal."

You groan. "God, you're so insufferable," rolling your eyes, dramatically.

"Ya love me. Want to take care of me. Ya love when 'm a li'l stupid after a few pints."

You cross your arms over your chest.

"Keep at it and I'll whack you so hard, you'll stay stupid."

"Oop- yes ma'am"

You raise your eyebrows at him, a breath of laughter escaping both of your lungs as Niall's head falls onto your shoulder. Peace consuming the both of you, despite this ridiculous situation.

[changbinsboobs]

I only had like 3 dreams of idols so its cool if someone else gets to have further dreams of them and often I wonder if it reflect the idols day to day emotions / situations or if they just trying to reach out to someone?

do u think we have to do tarot on idols to gain that connection to them in order to dream of them more frequently? not that id care or not just would be cool or different at the very least. my dream was specially abt chan and felix it was like in another world / realm and they had some type of super power or like they saw themselves as being heros. i dont know if that reflected in how they view themselves wanting to protect their fans but i dont overwatch them and i dont even think abt the members that much? skz are more like a casual interest i have once in awhile

can u then do a reading on what skz dream about themselves? i dont think anyones asked that to a tarot reader before but they too must have some crazy dreams

Finally i got to answer this one, it took a while im sry😅

So i don't think ones dreams about idols affect them in any way except if you habe a significant connection to them, which i doubt. Like i think if for examples han's mom were to often have vivid dreams about him, it would really be connected to him in some way, but even then, not in the way where he feels it, but rather his moms dreams for example tell her how her son is doing etc. yk

And i also don't think doing tarot has a significant role in how often you dream of people/ idols and who you dream about. I do readings on idols every day for idk like a month already - and i haven't had a single dream with anyone during that time. In fact i haven't had dreams with them for a very long while.

And so here is the long awaited reading for their dreams:) i used the 3rd Eye Tarot (tbh i think i should stop announcing it in every reading, ya'll already know i use it for all my readings, except spicy ones.

*Please take the reading with a grain of salt, its for entertainment purposes only!

Enjoy💗

What do Skz dream about? (when they sleep)

Chan - Ace of Wands, 2 of Wands

For him im seeing he just dreams about his goals and him getting there. I think his subconscious is so preoccupied with proving himself constantly that his subconscious mind projects it into his dreams. Or he gets pulled into parallel realities and experiences another chan's waking life in just working, planing and running towards his goals.

Lee Know - The World, 3 of Cups, Knight of Swords

Not surprised with his reading I've already mentioned that i've been seeing him the most in dreams in the past and that he seemed very aware and like ugh idk like real? Lucid? Idk how to describe it just in a few words but thats the same if been getting from the cards. He seems very active in his dreams. Very aware while dreaming. I believe he travels different universes and worlds, different domains. I think he likes to explore the astral realm and would say has really a gift for that! I think he also has great control over that dimension and can at will take or remove himself to/from different dreams and spaces. And i think he has met lots of people, entities, energies etc along the way and would say has made quite some friends.

Changbin - The Sun, Death, Queen of Cups, 2 of Pentacles

Why do i even bother to lay cards for him at this point?🥲 its almost the same each reading.🫠 So in his dreams he is unaware i would say - like he doesnt really remember what he dreamt about when he wakes up, or he can just remember a vague theme or feeling, or some incoherent scenes and all of that doesn't make sense to him, but it also does, yk that feeling. I think he has that. And i think the reason for that is cuz his higher self takes over and works hard in his dreams to pick his subconscious minds, to heal him, to implement seeds and truths, sometimes through dreams (when he has ones he remembers and or understands). I also think that if he has a dream he remembers theres always a message in there for him. He receives guidance through his dreams. And what all that hustling is about? U guessed it😂 - to find his wife👰🏻‍♀️🤰🏻 i think his higher self might be "searching" for her and working behind the scenes to bring them two together.

Hyunjin - The Empress, King of Cups

His dreams are very creative usually. And are more a fruit of his own subconscious mind, rather than astral travel etc. Just like Chan. I think he has lots of overflowing creativity he just can't pour all out in one day, so it gets used up in his dreams at the end of the day to like - bring balance in his being. I think he has wild and crazy and very rich and interesting dreams. I would love to take a peak.🥰 And i think he actually can remember lots of them with lots of detail as well. If you were to ask him about it he would wipe out a journal and start reading them to you like a short-story. Oh yeah and i think he might journal his dreams from time to time. Maybe not everything, but what he deems as important whenever he remembers. He thinks there could be lots of wisdom in them and if he ever gets in a rut or gets bored he wipes that journal out again and reads it to get some inspiration and ideas back. Thats what im getting for him.

Han - 9 of Cups, The Magician

I can't quite pick up if his dreams are more astral or subconscious but i definitely pick up on peace and release and fun and excitement. I would say it could be a mix of both. Like some dreams he has are subconscious and he releases lots of build up stress, emotions etc from them. Others are astral and he goes out (nit too far out tho) and just enjoys the funs an astral body and a world not bound by the laws of physics offers. I think he does fun stuff like learning how to fly. Going on a quest to find interesting animals (that don't exist on earth), visiting a neighbor galaxy/planet/universe whatever, talking with the local entities/spirits and whatever😂 and just overall having fun. Yk whats very fitting for him - i actually see him as a ghibli character having a whimsical adventure whenever he goes to sleep☺️love that for him. Just overall very lighthearted fun and pleasant energy. I think he loves sleeping😂 even if he can't remember when he wakes up, his brain does and his body does as well. Oh also i think he might be developing some skills in his dreams that he is using in the real world. Or like finding knowledge within his dreams that he can use in the real world to further improve his skills.

Felix - The Star, Knight of Cups

Also very nice energy! I think he dreams quite a lot about his crushes when he's having subconscious dreams. On the other side when his dreams are aware its not him but rather his higher self thats operating in that realm. I can't quite pick out what he does for sure but i think it has to do with some sort of socializing. For example going to other galaxies etc to visit friends from past lives or beyond life on earth or whatever. I think he also enjoys meeting new "people". Overall very cute, well balanced energy.

Seungmin - The Fool

He just rests😂 thats it. Thats the reading! If he dreams, its "meaningless" processing of the day and like anything thats not needed gets cleaned out and he's just getting a restart and rest for the new day.

I.N - Knight of Wands

I think his dreams are quite action packed. I think he's constantly on an adventure and is dreaming very much! Like dreaming every night, and every night being jam packed, yk those dreams where you sleep for 8h, but you've spent 2 months in your dream. I think he has those kind of dreams. Very realistic, very heartrace-inducing(?). I think he also remembers them pretty well, at least while he's freshly awakened. Idk about remembering them later on. Maybe not if he didn't care about the dream, but also maybe yes if he thought that dream was special or interesting or something grabbed his attention.

[respectthepetty]

Is Dan's shadow a succubus? Or more appropriately an incubus?

Homie, how would I know?! I'm watching the same show as you. If I knew what that shadow was, I wouldn't need to suffer through the last seven episodes. I was too busy being scared for my life the first seven episodes to truly think about what that shadow was, and now I have to sit through seven more just like alls the rest of ya to figure this puzzle out!

But why are we gendering the shadow? Is the shadow male? To me, the shadow is just energy, possibly a physical manifestation of Dan's trauma; therefore, is it an extension of him. Like Peter Pan's shadow!

@kenjiyabuki went full big-brain and noticed the painting in the background of Brother Anurak's office is Henry Fuseli's The Nightmare.

Ain't no detective like a Tumblr detective.

And because of this, I immediately went to my favorite art historian (I go to departments often asking BL-related questions which is one perk of working in higher ed), and she immediately said, "It's about sex."

More specifically, repression of desire.

Not everyone subscribes to this interpretation, but . . .

There is a mirror and a vial of water in the left bottom corner on the table in the painting. Mirrors mean truth and serve as a bridge between the two worlds (truth/lie, life/death, conscious/subconscious), while water (describe as a mirror-like substance) also serves as a bridge between two worlds. We don't see the mirror fully, so we don't see the truth of the situation, but two worlds are colliding within the painting.

We've seen a good amount of mirrors in the show.

And water.

The show doesn't have a crazy-looking horse in the background unless we are considering the makruk pieces, which are called "horses" and not "knights" like in chess, the horse in this scenario.

That's a stretch even for me, but we still have the bare basics - a person with the weight of desire resting on him.

A desire to be comforted when nobody holds him.

A desire to be protected when he feels abandoned.

A desire to feel normal.

And Trin had the same desires.

There is definitely some funky business happening at the school because Trin and Dan are linked through their desires and experiences, but the shadow was there long before Dan stepped onto the campus.

Detour - In the third episode, the monk told Dan in order to change his karma, he needed to forgive when the time came after Dan saw his dad briefly playing makruk in his dream. At the end of that episode, Dan saw his father's ghost while he was acting the ghost scene from Hamlet, which is a play about revenge and forgiveness.

The shadow led Dan through a tour of his family's happiest moments in episode four right before he encountered his father again.

And his father asked for his forgiveness.

To which Dan said "hell to the no"

And this is why I think the shadow IS Dan. The monk told him to forgive to change his karma. The shadow led Dan to do just that, but Dan didn't; therefore, he didn't beat his karma and ghost-dad told Dan he was becoming everything he hated. Was this conversation all in Dan's head? Was he, through the shadow, guiding himself to be better than his father? And did he override his subconscious to seek revenge instead because that's what he truly desires?

More interestingly is what shows up every time someone chooses revenge over forgiveness - Trin! Rather than the shadow lurking in the water after Dan's dad died, Trin was waiting for him.

Trin was waiting for him in the bathroom to lead Dan into the funhouse when Nai decided to teach Anan a lesson.

And Trin showed up right before Anan attacked Dan.

Each time, the mirrors and water are present, so wouldn't that make Trin The Nightmare?

Of course, I, a color demon must mention how I find the use of red fascinating mostly when thinking about it in correlation to the painting since red is behind the nightmare figure.

And it spreads underneath the sleeping person in white as if that innocent person is being surrounded by this desire.

All of this is to basically sum up that Trin has a face. The shadow doesn't. Trin is a person. The shadow isn't. Just like those headless figurines the locals use as stand-ins for them to appease the wild ghosts and protect them from harm, Dan's faceless shadow could be his way of protecting himself and hiding his desires from outside forces.

And Trin could be a way to expose all that's hidden, including those desires.

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

You're waiting for a train...(5)

A Lesson in Planning

Robert Fischer x reader

description - the logistics of the dream begin to come together and get finalised by the group. Y/n's heart yearns for Robert more but she feels absent from those around her.

warnings - non-con touching (because she is not awake! UNCONSCIOUS PEOPLE DON'T WANT TEA!), mentions of surgery, mentions of murder.

word count - 2.2k

a/n - Boy you guys are gonna hate Arthur here! this is an important filler chapter for the plot but the real juicy stuff is still to come!

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“So now in the first layer of the dream, I can impersonate Browning and suggest concepts to Fischer’s conscious mind. When we get a layer deeper his own projection of Browning should-should feed that back to him.” Eames orated to our group as we sat concepting the plan for the mission.

“So he gives himself the idea?” Arthur questioned.

“Precisely.” Eames continued. “That’s the only way it’ll stick. It has to seem self-generated.”

“Eames.” Arthur leant back in his chair and looked to me and I nodded in agreement. “I am impressed.”

Eames chuckled. “Your condescension, as always, is much appreciated, Arthur, thank you.” I laughed at Eames’ quip, but felt I should cover my face to not embarrass Arthur further.

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I sat in the workspace with Ariadne as she worked on her totem.

She’d decided upon a chess piece with a partly hollowed out centre that would always fall a specific way. We’d actually had the idea together when we’d been walking in the park and had come across a group of old men who’d formed a chess club. When Ariadne had picked up the queen, it had felt right in her hand.

I glanced to my watch and commented on the lateness of the time but hadn’t noticed Ariadne had actually left our desk. I must have zoned out. That had been happening a lot recently. My mind went to Robert. It wasn’t always thinking back on our interaction, most of the time it was just imagining him beside me. Living in the moment with fantasies of him living it with me.

I perked up when Dad and Ariadne walked back towards me, Ariadne gestured for me to show my Dad the mazes but I hesitated.

“Each level relates to the part of the subjects subconscious that we are trying to access.” Dad walked past our designs, assessing the skill and intricacy. Ariadne and I loomed over her paper built mazes. “So, I’m making the bottom level a hospital so Fischer will bring his father, -- um you know, actually, I have a question about this layout.” Dad immediately retreated as if the sight burned his eyes.

“No, no, no. Don’t – Don’t show me specifics. Only the dreamer should know the layout.” I winced at Dad’s harsh tone.

“Dad, she just wanted some help.” I looked up at him.

“Just – “ He pointed at me in a fierce tone but doubted his words. His tone smoothed out. “Just no specifics.”

“Why is that important?” She questioned, amid our staring contest.

“In case one of us brings our projections in. We don’t want them knowing the details of the maze.” Dad feebly explained.

“You mean in case you bring Mom in?” I spat at him. The room went quiet, the tension was thick. “You can’t keep her out, can you? Right. If you know the maze then she knows it. That’s why you can’t build anymore.” I stalked towards him amidst my lecture.

“Cobb is this getting worse?” I appreciated Ariadne’s concern. She had been whisked in to this operation only to find out the leader’s brain was more fucked up than most. Who wants to share dreams with that. “Because the others need to know if it is?”

“Who said it’s getting worse!” He abruptly ended so we knew the conversation was done. There was a lull. “I need to get her home.” He pointed at me. “That’s all I care about right now. Is her.” He stood up and embraced me. My guilt weighed me down. He’d only ever thought of me, and my thoughts were filled with someone else. How selfish could I be.

“Why can’t you go home?” Ariadne fiercely inquired.

“Because they think I killed her.” Cobb said into my hair whilst we stayed hugging. I squeezed tighter at that answer. Ariadne stayed quiet as Cobb left my arms to walk away. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not asking whether I did.” He smiled appreciatively.

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“I will split up my father’s empire.” The word emblazoned on our whiteboard. “Now, this is obviously an idea that Robert himself would choose to reject which is why we need to plant it deep in his subconscious. The subconscious is motivated by emotion, right? Not reason. We need to find a way to translate this into an emotional concept.” Dad addressed us.

“How do you translate a business strategy into an emotion?” Arthur questioned.

“That’s what were here to figure out. Now, Robert’s relationship with his father is stressed to say the least.”

“Well, can we run with that?” Eames perked up. “We could suggest breaking up his father’s company as a ‘screw you’ to the old man.”

“No.” I commented. “Positive emotion trumps negative emotion every time. We yearn for reconciliation, catharsis. His bond with his dad is broken beyond repair. Maybe if we’re gonna be in there anyway, we could do him a little good.” When I trailed off softly, I felt all eyes on me, confused. I especially felt the hot gaze of my father.

“We need Robert Fischer to have a positive emotional reaction to all this.” Dad agreed whilst eyeing me suspiciously.

“All right, let’s try this.” Eames jumped to my rescue. “My father accepts that I want to create for myself, not follow in his footsteps.”

“That might work.”

“Might?” Arthur argued. “We’re gonna need to do a little better than might.” Eames turned towards him with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, thank you for your contribution, Arthur.” He said sarcastically.

“Forgive me for wanting a little specificity, Eames.”

“Specificity?”

“Inception’s not about being specific. When we get inside his mind, we’re gonna have to work with what we find.”

Ariadne had already prepped each of the dreamers with the layout of the maze. I was truly impressed, and I spent every minute telling her that. It was so great to have a girl on the team. I often felt I was drowning in testosterone.

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We had entered Yusuf’s dream which would act as the first layer. Ariadne had created a metropolitan city with towering skyscrapers. It was perfect. Complex and confusing if you were not familiar yet still had a sense of believability.

“On the top level,” Eames narrated to us all, as we stood in the direct centre of the road. “We open up his relationship with his father, and say ‘I will not follow in my father’s footsteps.”

I walked around in awe of the world around me. I’d been in many dreams and had created a few for myself, but nothing like this. I bumped Ariadne’s shoulder and whispered.

“This is seriously amazing.”

“you’ve told me that like 5 times, y/n.”

“Oh sorry—”

“No, it’s nice.” She threw her arm around me so we ended in a half way hug. I suddenly remembered the boys were talking.

“Then the next level down, we feed him ‘I will create something for myself’. Then by the time we bring out the big guns – “

“My father doesn’t want me to be him.” I finished. After speaking those fateful words I chanced a glance at my own father’s eyes. But I looked away in shame, missing his own longing gaze.

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“Three layers down the dreams are gonna collapse.” Arthur admitted. “Even with the slightest disturbance.”

“Sedation.” Yusuf proudly stated. “For sleep stable enough to create three layers of dreaming, we’ll have to combine it with an extremely powerful sedative. The compound we’ll be using to share the dream creates a very clear connection between dreamers whilst actually accelerating brain function.”

“In other words, it gives us more time on each level.” Dad explained for the ones who struggled to understand Yusuf’s chemistry.

“Brain function in the dream will be about 20 times normal. When you enter a dream within that dream, the effect is compounded, it’s 3 dreams – that’s 10 hours times –”

“I’m sorry maths was never my strong subject.” I chuckled at Eames’ confusion. “How much time is that?”

I decided to fill him in.

“It’s a week, the first level down, 6 months the second level down –”

“Its 10 years, the third level.” Ariadne said in a gasp. I nodded sadly towards her. “Who would want to be stuck in a dream for 10 years?”

“Depends on the dream.” Ariadne and I looked unamused towards Yusuf’s attempt at humour.

“So, once we’ve made the plant how do we get out? I’m hoping you have something more elegant in mind than shooting me in the head.” Arthur commented whilst swinging on his chair.

“A kick.”

“What’s a kick?”

“This Ariadne,” Eames gently tapped Arthur’s chair so he panicked and fell forward. “Is a kick.” He smiled innocently towards Arthurs unimpressed face. I giggled watching their little bromance.

“It’s that feeling of falling you get that jolts you awake.”

“Will we even feel a kick with that level of sedation?” I questioned.

“I’ve customised the sedative to leave inner function unimpaired.” I gave a grateful nod. Yusuf was truly a gift to this mission. “Let me demonstrate.”

“Arthur.” “Arthur!” Eames and I said in sync.

Arthur reluctantly rises and sits on the chair Yusuf gestures to. Yusuf puts him into a dream.

“You see the sleeper still feels the falling.” Yusuf tips Arthur and he jolts awake just in time to watch his body hit the ground. Eames and I burst out laughing. I wink at Eames as we both get the same idea.

“But Yusuf.” I begin. “He just fell sideways. I think it needs to be demonstrated that it works falling at ALL angles.” Eames and I could barely hold in our laughter as my dad shook his head in disapproval. Arthur was put under 4 more times and shoved off the chair each time. God this was too good. After the final time, he threw his hands up when Yusuf went in for one more IV. He abruptly stood up and walked past me. He slowed down when he reached my shoulder.

“Don’t be so childish.” My smile broke.

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“He hasn’t got any surgery scheduled, there’s no dental, nothing.”

“Wasn’t he supposed to have a knee operation?”

“Nothing. Nothing that they’d put him under for anyway.”

We were coming up with the final stage. And the most important element. Time.

“We need a good 10 hours.” My dad offered up the situation to the room.

“Sydney to Los Angeles.” Saito had very much taken up the role of the silent money. Quiet, observing. Merely here to protect his investment. When dad had told me he wanted to go under with us I wasn’t shocked. Inception is hardly a mission which has a physical outcome a buyer can hold. The only way to get proof is to be there with us. I did worry about safety. He was just another parasite the projections could flock to; this put us all at risk. And I had a feeling this sedation meant a simple kill shot wouldn’t suffice.

“One of the longest flights in the world. He makes it every two weeks.”

“He must be flying private then?” Dad questioned.

“Not if there were unexpected maintenance with his plane.” I smirked at this.

“It would have to be a 747.” Arthur jumped in.

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“Because on a 747, the pilot is up top,” I didn’t miss how Arthur directed the answer towards my dad. “and the first class cabin is on the nose, so no one would walkthrough but you’d have to buy out the entire cabin and the first class flight attendant.”

“I bought the airline.” We all flocked our gaze to Saito. “It seemed neater.” Ah of course! Why didn’t we think of that?

“Well then.” We had our stage. “Ariadne?” Dad stopped us as we went to leave. “Terrific work by the way.” I smiled her way but she missed it, taken up in a conversation with Arthur.

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My fingers fidgeted on the lock of the case. Itching to try again. Nothing around me was satisfying, I needed some release. The lock flicked up and I hurriedly unpacked the IV. I inserted it and let it do it’s magic. My eyes drooped, my heart slowed yet my excitement bubbled up. My head flopped onto the rough fabric of the deck chair. As my mind floated me away, a presence loomed in my peripheral.

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*Arthur’s pov*

I’d stayed behind late, hoping to have a word with y/n. She hadn’t seemed herself recently and I worried for the state of her mind when we begin this task.

I made my way to the door, believing I’d missed her. I noticed one of the deck chairs hadn’t been put away so I went to tidy up. I saw five painted nails loosen their grip on the edge of the chair and collapse to the side. There was an IV exiting the vein, I tracked it back towards the silver case.

I ambled my way towards her sleeping frame. So peaceful, yet so much life danced behind her closed eyes. I found myself stroking her soft cheeks. She was so perfect. My thumb caressed the contours of her face and it began to droop lower, until it met the curve of her lips. What was I doing?

I jumped back as if her skin had burnt me. Suddenly I was possessed by a new found drive. I ripped one of the other IV’s out of the case and dragged a chair up to the table. I inserted the tube and let the sedative consume my body.

My mind crumbled down and was rebuilt into her subconscious.

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Oh boyyyyy Arthur has gone into her subconscious! What's he gonna find? What's she hiding??

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