#i have about 800 words written that i can share

[seelie-buddy]

Tell Me You Love Me

summary : your love for alhaitham is endless, and you make sure to express that verbally; alhaitham makes sure his affections reaches you as well

contains : alhaitham believes in 'actions speak louder than words' ; pre-established relationship ; fluff ; gn!reader, this drabble is written in second person

word count : 800

The candle by your bedside is close to running out when Alhaitham appears through the door. Eyes drooping and a yawn slipping out, the bed dips under his weight as he joins your side. You smile softly as he snuggles in, resting his forehead on your shoulder, his eyes fluttering shut instantly.

"Long day?" You whisper, raising a hand to brush through his hair. You receive a sleepy hum for a response as you pull the blanket over him. "Rest well then."

You can feel his breathing slow as sleep comes over him. It's rather endearing, watching him melt in your embrace, relax to your warmth. Oh, you loved him dearly. And you had no qualms to saying it out loud.

"I love you," you say, a gentle whisper as you lay a soft kiss against his forehead. You would repeat those words for him over and over again until the whole world knew. You would let those words echo through your shared house, letting its warmth fan the fire of the hearth, allowing your abode flourish in the warmth of a home.

And you were sure he heard you, as you felt his hand brush against yours, his index finger curling around yours, wrapping your finger in a gentle, yet firm, hold.

The sky remained hidden behind large, fluffy grey clouds, indicating the rain that would soon fall on Sumeru City. It made sense then of the people rushing back into the shelter of their homes before they get caught in the upcoming downpour.

You simply smiled at the idea of a cozy evening. You paused in your tracks, however, as you caught the whiff of flowers. Turning around, you catch glimpse a flower vender, packing up their stall as the other merchants did.

You returned home, grinning brightly despite the light scoldings of the elderly flower vender who was rushing to return home.

"I'm home!" You chirp in a sing-song. And ah, the sight of your beloved welcoming you back with a warm smile.

You thrust the flowers into Alhaitham's hand, feeling absolutely gleeful at the surprise flashing across his face. His widened eyes, momentary gaping melting into a smile as he recognizes the bouquet of flowers to be the same as the first gift you had given him at the start of your love story.

"I have something for you too," he says in a soft whisper before disappearing into your shared bedroom before returning with another bouquet of flowers in hand. Ah, seems he must have encountered the flower vendor on his way home as well.

His gaze remains on you as you laugh at the coincidence, his eyes honeyed with endearment and softened with amusement.

Oh and his silent laugh as you jumped into his arms, hugging him tight.

"I love you."

You were sure you found your heaven on earth.

You love your off days. Not only did you get to sleep peacefully until the sunlight seeping in through the curtains slowly awake you, but you get to enjoy the sight of your sleepy beloved. The whispered 'good morning's as you take each other in an embrace, snuggling until late in the morning, that joy was unparalleled.

Preparing meals together, snuggling on the couch as one napped and the other read, random chit-chat about some curious thing that happened at work throughout the week; these were all simple moments, but things you yearned for when you had to be apart because of work.

You enjoy watching the sunset with Alhaitham, sitting down on the ground, surrounded by the smell of the grass and dirt. Waiting until the moon rose high as you listened to him narrate bits of poetry in languages you could only dream of learning.

As you worked around in the kitchen with him, preparing dinner, you smiled contentedly.

"I love you," you mummer.

A soft kiss lands atop your head as Alhaitham continues to work around you, leaving you grinning brighter than ever.

"I love you lots," you say amidst your soft chuckles.

"I love you too," Alhaitham smiles back. "More than words could ever express."

"Really?" You cock an eyebrow playfully, not bothering to hide how his words made you soar over the moon.

"Really," he says, not minding your playfulness. "I could use all the words I know, speak all the languages I can, and it still wouldn't suffice to express what you make me feel, how happy you make me."

Alhaitham turns towards you, devoting his utmost attention to you. "Your laugh, your smile, your voice, your eyes, they will always be more beautiful than any language, any poetry that the world has to offer. You are the language I love most, and the only one I want to remain fluent in until my time runs out."

a/n : I previously wrote this drabble (a quiet love) for alhaitham and enjoyed writing it a lot, so I wanted to write more for him (I'm definitely not biased.... okay maybe a tiny bit hehe—); but yeah, I really like the idea of alhaitham following the 'actions speaks louder than words' if it wasn't already obvious

→ this fic was the (3+1) kinda type, or well, I had that in mind when writing it; dunno if it was noticeable or not lmao

p/s : now that my senior year of highschool started, I might be a bit irregular at posting (not that I actually wrote consistently before—), but I don't have too hard courses this semester, so who knows I actually might be a tiny bit consistent; but yeah you get the point right?

[deanstead]

Safe Space

Pairing: Matt Casey x Reader

Requested: no

Summary: After a bad day, Y/N returns home to her very own safe space.

Word Count: 800+

Tags/Warnings: fluff

A/N: Written for my best girl @seatsbythepit, I hope you like this!

MATT CASEY MASTERLIST

Days like these were the worst.

It was bad enough you’d had to cover for people who weren’t pulling their own weight in the team. But of course, like they said, bad things came in threes. At least it was never just one thing.

Everything that seemed to go wrong, did. Then, there came the finger pointing, the backstabbing, and your boss’ yelling.

You were practically drained by the time the office was emptying out.

Yet, the universe didn’t seem to be ready to let you off for the day.

You’d passed a cafe on your way back, grabbing an ice cream on a whim, hoping that your mood would have improved by the time you saw Matt that evening. You weren’t crazy about ending the day on a less than happy note, and you hated making Matt feel down with you as well.

You’d just taken two steps down the street with the ice cream in your hand when a guy had rushed past, practically crashing into you.

The force sent you stumbling at least three steps backward, and you’d barely managed to stay upright but your ice cream had ended up top down on the street.

“Would you at least watch where you’re going!” The guy yelled.

On any other day you might have ignored him, but you’d had more than enough unreasonable people in your face for the day.

“You bumped into me.” You responded, keeping your voice as even as you could. “And that’s my ice cream you knocked out of my hand.”

The man glared at you, flashing a rude sign at you and muttering about how you were lucky he was in a rush before he continued his way down the street.

That only served to worsen your mood but you headed home anyway, feeling the fatigue of the day start to hit you.

You stood outside the door of the apartment you shared with Matt for just a minute. You weren’t sure if Matt was already home. He wasn’t on shift today but he’d been working on a construction project and hadn’t been sure of his timing.

Just in case, you steadied your emotions as best as you could before you opened the door.

Matt was indeed home, and he heard you the moment the door opened.

“Hey babe!” You heard his voice first, before he appeared before you, leaning in to give you a welcome home kiss. “You’re a little later than usual.”

You smiled back at Matt, feeling your emotions stabilize a little just by seeing him standing in front of you. “Yeah, I just took a little detour to pick up some things.”

Your words sounded lame as you heard them, but even so, you thought you’d handled it pretty well, considering.

Matt, however, seemed to pick up on everything. The look in your eyes, the tone in your voice, or the smile that didn’t fully reach your eyes.

Matt's brows furrowed, just a little. “Y/N?”

You weren’t sure what it was that caused the prick of tears. Maybe it was the soft tone of Matt’s voice, or just the fact that Matt was standing right in front of you.

“Yeah, I’m…” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Matt pulled you into his arms, your face fitting snugly into his shoulder.

That was all it took before you were a mess, the frustrations of the day seeming to flow out with each tear that soaked into Matt’s shirt.

Matt didn’t ask you anything, merely holding you tight against him.

When your shoulders stopped shaking, Matt spoke, “We’ve got pasta and I can pop out the wine that Kelly brought the last time he was here.”

You smiled through the residual tears. “Sounds perfect.”

That’s how you and Matt ended up on the couch after the meal, the plates forgotten in the dishwasher as you cuddled into his side. The television was on, but you weren’t really paying attention, your head laying on Matt’s chest, close enough that you could hear the regular thump of his heart.

“You want to talk about it?” Matt asked quietly, adjusting the quilt he’d draped over you earlier.

You shrugged but told him anyway, starting to feel a little stupid about your mini meltdown.

“It’s not really a big deal, I don’t know why…”

“Hey.” Matt interrupted you. “If it's a big deal to you, it's a big deal."

You didn’t say anything, merely scooting closer.

Matt’s arm tightened around you. “But I’m glad you know I’m here. No matter what.”

That’s when it hit you, the realization of what had caused the onslaught of tears. The only place you could let go, be yourself and allow your emotions to take over was your safe place.

“Thank you Matt.” You whispered quietly, almost to yourself.

Matt pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. “I love you too.” He responded.

This was indeed your very own safe place - Matthew Casey.

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[the-magiarcheologist]

Reading the Ancient Magic Book Pages

I propose to you today a short analysis of the sections of text on the pages of the Ancient Magic book we find below the restricted section.

High-res images of the book’s pages have been shared by a kind soul. Here they all are:

I was working on a completely different post when I realised that the text on the last 2 pages was easily readable and written in Latin. So I just did a quick search and discovered that these are verses from the Vulgate (4th century translation of the Bible in Latin), more precisely from the Gospel of Luke from the New Testament.

A bit more research and I could find exactly which source they got this text from: the Book of Kells, a Celtic Gospel book written in Latin and illuminated in the Insular style (a combination of Celtic and Anglo-Saxon styles). The precise origins of the Book of Kells are debated but many believe it was created around the year 800 at the monastery founded by St Colum Cille on Iona Island in western Scotland.

Here I put side by side the pages of the Ancient Magic book and the pages from the Books of Kells where the text is from (folio 204r and 275r):

The verses they used are Luke 22:23

Et ipsi coeperunt quaerere inter se quis esset ex eis qui hoc facturus esset.

Which translates to:

And they began to enquire among themselves, which of them it was that should do this thing.

And on the second page, Luke 4:8-14

Et respondens Jesus, dixit illi: Scriptum est: Dominum Deum tuum adorabis, et illi soli servies. Et duxit illum in Jerusalem, et statuit eum super pinnam templi, et dixit illi: Si Filius Dei es, mitte te hinc deorsum. Scriptum est enim quod angelis suis mandavit de te, ut conservent te: et quia in manibus tollent te, ne forte offendas ad lapidem pedem tuum. Et respondens Jesus, ait illi: Dictum est: Non tentabis Dominum Deum tuum. Et consummata omni tentatione, diabolus recessit ab illo, usque ad tempus. Et regressus est Jesus in virtute Spiritus in Galilaeam, et fama exiit per universam regionem de illo.

Which translates to:

And Jesus answered and said unto him, Get thee behind me, Satan: for it is written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve. And he brought him to Jerusalem, and set him on a pinnacle of the temple, and said unto him, If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down from hence: For it is written, He shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee: And in their hands they shall bear thee up, lest at any time thou dash thy foot against a stone. And Jesus answering said unto him, It is said, Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God. And when the devil had ended all the temptation, he departed from him for a season. And Jesus returned in the power of the Spirit into Galilee: and there went out a fame of him through all the region round about.

I’m not christian and don’t know much about the Bible so I have no idea why they chose these particular verses. Maybe someone more educated than me will be able to chime in. My hunch is that these verses were just chosen at random from old manuscripts that the artists for the game were using as reference for the art style.

Now, since I was on a roll, I also looked at the text on the other pages. Pages 1 and 3 have some text written in some old form of Icelandic (figured that out from the few words I could sort of read on those pages). So I started looking into old Icelandic manuscripts but it took me a ridiculously long time to find the exact source the text is from! I was starting to go mad but here it is! It’s from an illustration of the Prose Edda found in the Icelandic manuscript ÍB 299 4to., in particular the illustration of the god Týr presented as Mars (folio 60r).

They took the short text in the little box and copy/pasted it mosaic style to give the illusion of the full page of text but you can see it’s just short sections that repeat over and over on both pages.

(To note: this manuscript is from 1764 so it’s sort of anachronistic for them to use this source for an Ancient Magic book that already existed in the Keepers time, meaning the Ancient Magic book is from the 15th century or older.)

Týr is one of the principal war gods in Norse mythology (alongside Odin and Thor) but he also presides over justice and the law. Latin texts often identified him as Mars (hence the subject of the illustration).

I could not find any transcription or translation of the text on the image, I could only decipher some words here and there such as «sigir hielldu» which google translate tells me could mean «victories held» in Icelandic. A bit further down there is «orrustu guð» which could mean «god of war». So it seems to be a short description of the god Týr and at the end there are roman numerals that identify the section in the Prose Edda where the story of Týr can be found.

Again, I can’t really see how this text makes particular sense in the context of the Ancient Magic book, probably just placeholder text from some of the sources they were studying as inspiration.

There is one last book page, but the text on this one is so blurred I didn’t even try to decipher it. Although I do note that the artist has traced over some letters which are: W S M I(?) I(?) I(?) Z N R(?) P(?) G W Q O U(?) H W R(?)

Don’t know… some of them are hard to read or could be not from the Latin alphabet. Again, I just can’t make sense of that. There are not enough vowels for it to be an anagram of an English or Latin phrase so… what else? I leave this mystery to others with more powerful brains than mine!

Anyway, this is it! Not really much to say about this but I think other people are also planning on looking into these book pages so maybe these findings can help them out!

[dancingbirdie]

Honestly I just wanted to write something Astarion x Halsin x Reader related, and this is what my brain told my fingers to tap onto the keyboard. It's sugar sweet with like one speck of chili pepper flake. Idk how to feel about it - it's not my fave I've ever written, but I also like how cutsey it is? Idk.

Feathers, Flirts, and Fiends

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Astarion x Halsin x gn!Reader

Word Count: 800

Tags: Fluff with a dash of spice at the end, humor, throuple domestic bliss, polyamory cuteness

Summary: For Astarion, it can be very taxing when your two lovers also happen to both be druids.

*****

In his dream, the bed was so disheveled that down feathers whooshed up in riotous little eddies each time he moved his limbs. Snow white, soft as petals, landing carelessly this way and that. He could feel the heat from his two lovers on either side of him, although the bed was too expansive to reach for them. 

They must have shared a rather rowdy evening together, given the abundance of freewheeling feathers that surrounded him. He couldn’t recall the details now. Curious. His eyelids slipped shut as a tuft floated down to land on his lashes. Another caressed his cheek. He smiled, content. 

But then the third arrival was less welcoming, landing just under his nose. He lifted a hand up to knock it aside, only for the feather to be replaced by another. Brows furrowed, he batted it away with a tinge more annoyance. But that one was only replaced once again. 

The barrage of feathers was beginning to tickle. He could feel a sneeze itching its way to the front of his nose. As his body instinctively inhaled to let it loose, he woke with a start. 

Well, the dream had gotten one thing right, Astarion thought to himself. 

There were indeed feathers surrounding him everywhere. It was all he could see as he peered about with bleary eyes. But they weren’t the soft down of a priceless plush pillow or mattress, no. 

They were attached to the pelts of his two lovers, you and Halsin, having shifted sometime in the night into your owlbear forms. Sandwiched between you, he felt the feathers rise and fall, sweeping up and down across his body, in time with your deep, drawn out breaths. 

“Gods damn you blasted druids,” he griped, shoving against you and the Archdruid in an effort to rouse your overlarge forms. “Wake up and shift back! Lest I succumb to death by feather asphyxiation.”

You’d awoken the moment Astarion had startled beside you, but the trickster in you considered feigning sleep just to see how long he would grouse. He could be so dramatic at times. It was darling. 

But Halsin was a kinder soul than you. You sensed him shift immediately in response to Astarion’s huffy command. Heard him murmur a sincere apology. 

“I know you’re awake, you beastie” Astarion hissed into the feathers covering your ear hole. “Your breathing’s picked up.” 

Blast. There goes any fun. 

Blinking open your enlarged eyes, you rolled them in a show of exasperation as you pulled on the tether of your magic to relinquish your wild shape. You quickly downsized to your normal elven form, curled in the same way your owlbear self had been sleeping. 

“Don’t be such a gremlin, Astarion,” you yawned, scooting closer to embrace him and Halsin, who had banded an arm across the vampire’s waist and was reaching for you to join them. “I would have thought you’d rather enjoy the warmth of two owlbear companions.”

“Oh yes, being smothered by lichen-and-moss-smelling feathers has always been a fantasy of mine,” he retorted. 

“Can vampires actually be smothered? I thought it was just wooden stakes and sunlight that did you in,” you smirked deviously. 

“You’re awful,” Astarion pouted, turning his head to rest in the crook of Halsin’s shoulder and neck. “At least Halsin showed an ounce of contrition.”

You heard the archdruid’s gravelly laugh as he kissed the top of Astarion’s head. “I’ve learned it goes a ways farther than verbally sparring with you,” he murmured into his silvery curls. 

“Quite right,” Astarion sniffed. “Much farther indeed, darling.”

Laughter bubbled forth from your own lips as you squeezed closer into his side and snaked an arm across his chest. 

“But where’s the fun in that?” you whispered. “Our verbal sparring often leads us three into some very interesting circumstances.”

At those words, Halsin reflexively clutched your waist harder. Astarion tensed before pushing back into your chest suggestively. You grinned fiendishly to yourself. Getting these two hot and bothered had become a specialty of yours lately. And you loved it.

“Tsk. You’re incorrigible,” Astarion grumbled, although his words were a bit breathier than they had been.

“Careful, lest you start something again,” Halsin warned. You couldn’t see him past Astarion’s head, but you could tell he was smiling just by his tone. “I’m not opposed to losing rest in order to see how this tête-à-tête ensues.” 

You chuckled darkly. “Noted. What say you, Astarion? Care to keep sparring?” The insinuation in your tone was clear. 

“Darling, you forget,” he murmured, one hand slipping down, behind him, to tug at the lacings of your breeches. His voice was muffled. You watched hungrily as he began to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses across the column of Halsin throat. 

“I’m always ready for a spar with you two.” 

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Congrats on your unique milestone!!

Hmm how about a micro with Dieter Bravo and Library AU?

Hi lovely! Thank you for this request. This turned out to be something completely different than what I expected, but... I kind of dig the vibe 🤷🏻‍♀️ I have no good explanation for this, but I hope you find some kind of enjoyment in it!

Dieter Bravo x library AU

Fuck Yeah 2222 Sleepover micro drabble request | 800 words | warnings: grumpy, booklover!Dieter, librarian!Reader, I honestly don't know what else to say lol, I can't explain what I've written

Dieter Bravo tosses a dogeared paperback onto the check-out counter at the local library and fishes for his wallet somewhere in the depths of his sweatpants.

You take one look at the familiar cover, and blurt out, ‘That’s my favourite book.’

He hums, not particularly interested in your opinion as he hands you his library card, which you’d personally printed out and laminated when the request from the mayor’s office came through a week ago.

At his dismissive air, you grumble under your breath, ‘It’s way better than that dumpster fire of a book that your movie is adapted from.’

That catches his attention.

Skeptical eyebrows ascend from behind his dark sunglasses. ‘Is that right?’

Having checked out the book, you slide it across the desk to him with a faux sweet smile. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know.’

Dieter comes into the library every Thursday, after filming hours. You want to say you don’t understand why he does, but your workplace is one of two spots that’s still open after six o’clock in your tiny little town, the other being the local diner. And you guess there’s only so much drugs you can do in one’s hotel room before that gets boring too.

The next week, he returns your favourite book and surprises you with a question. ‘Got anything else like this one?’

So back and forth you go. He never tells you if he likes the books. He barely grunts two words at you, the sunglasses always firmly on, ringed fingers tapping on the counter impatiently when you beep the bar codes on his card and the book you recommend that week.

You don’t mind. You work at the library for a reason, and it’s not for a love of talking.

The weeks wind down, and soon there are whispers that his movie will wrap soon, in a couple of weeks. You’re not exactly sad, but you’ve liked sharing your favourite books with this man, whose glitzy, high-flying life is so far removed from yours - and yet your eyes have read the same words, your fingertips have traced the same lines of text, and your hands have turned the same pages.

The penultimate Thursday, when Dieter walks up to your counter, you have a book ready for him.

It’s a departure from the established routine - you usually tell him where the book is, and he goes fetch it himself. He doesn’t question you though, and instead, waits for the blurb that you always give him by way of an introduction. When you shrug wordlessly, he arches an eyebrow at you, but he doesn’t probe.

The next Thursday, you’re down with the flu and you call in sick for the day. If you’re honest with yourself, you’re relieved that you won’t see Dieter for the last time. Filming has wrapped, and you know he’s flying out this evening (there are no secrets in a small town).

Your dinner of canned chicken soup is bubbling on the stove when there’s a knock on your door. Swinging it open, you wonder if you’re high on your flu medicine.

Dieter Bravo is standing on your tiny doorstep, which is barely wide enough to accommodate his broad shoulders. He holds the book in one big hand, his ridiculous rings catching the porch lights. Something is off, and it takes you a few more moments to realise why -

He’s not wearing his sunglasses.

Warm brown eyes hold yours as he says more than asks, ‘You wrote this, didn’t you?’

His confident statement steals the breath right out of your parted lips, and you stare back at him, dumbfounded.

Not a single soul knows. You published the book under a pseudonym with a small press on the other side of the country and made enough to cover your costs, which was more than you expected. Covertly, you ordered a copy for the library, and it’s been checked out exactly three times in the last four years. It’s been sitting in its little spot, gathering dust until you took it off the shelf last week on an impulse.

You realise that Dieter is still waiting for your answer, but the words don’t come. The car sitting on the curb honks, and he smiles ruefully before pushing the book into your limp hands, and walks away without looking back.

When the SUV rounds the corner, your gaze drops to the paperback. His eyes have read the same words that you wrote, his fingertips have traced the same lines of text that you know by heart, his hands have turned the same pages you now fan through - 

Something falls out of the book and you just manage to catch it before it flutters out of reach. 

It’s a name card with Dieter’s cell number on one side, and on the other, in precarious handwriting that can only be his -

Wanna make a movie?

[final-fantasy-as-literature]

Final Fantasy VII and a Failure to Properly Analyze Japanese Media by English-Speakers

Light spoilers ahead without revealing deeper context.

One thing that always gets me about discussions of the Compilation of Final Fantasy VII is that they're kind of poorly Eurocentric, but I don't think that's entirely the fault of players and journalists. The original game itself came into being in one of those moments where Japanese media was looking both inward and outward while reflecting on what was becoming the economic stagnation of what would become known as "The Lost Decade." There was a lot of outrospection, looking at media from as far as Europe and North America, but a lot of analysis from without Japan often weakly frames that borrowing to the point that it makes the cultural context of where those borrowings might have come from disappear. That's what I mean by "poorly Eurocentric" - these analyses rightfully detect a borrowing, but fall apart because of a lack of curiosity into their depth, origin, and meaning within a Japanese context that fails to center that context as distinctly Japanese or even distinctly of Tokyo.

I have no ill-will towards this author nor do I have any ill-will towards his work, but M.J. Gallagher's Norse Myths That Inspired Final Fantasy VII is kind of a case-study in this. This is not a takedown, callout, or assault of Gallagher, but an example of what I'm talking about. While reading it, I was somewhat struck by a series of claims made that encapsulate this poor Eurocentrism:

Final Fantasy VII’s Nibelheim is largely derived from the primordial realm of mist, and its name is very deliberate. ‘Nibel’ is the word for ‘fog’ in the Romansch language of Switzerland, cognate with the German ‘Nebel’, both of which share a Proto-Germanic root with the Norse ‘nifl’. ‘Heim’, on the other hand, translates most commonly as ‘home’ or ‘home of’. It can therefore be deduced that where Niflheim is the Home of Primordial Mist, Nibelheim is the Home of Fog. Closely related in form to ‘mist’ or ‘fog’ is ‘cloud’. Given that the series’ lead protagonist is Cloud Strife, it becomes apparent that Nibelheim was named quite literally for being the home of Cloud.

This etymology has generated some confusion among fans over the years who believed it to have been drawn from Richard Wagner’s celebrated opera cycle Der Ring des Nibelungen, which itself was inspired by Nordic mythology and the Nibelungenlied, an epic Middle High German poem dating back around 800 years. The terms Nibelung (German) or Niflung (Norse) have been used in different ways over the centuries, most commonly referring to a noble family or to dwarfs, neither of which are heavily associated with Niflheim."

I first want to point out that there is no in-text citation of any of these claims when one might expect even a pop-history novel like this to, but that isn't entirely important - the first major claim, that Nibelheim is named for Cloud, comes from word association across four languages. It has to, as none of the sources in the bibliography associate Nifl with 'fog' or 'cloud.'

Japanese itself cannot easily evidence a difference between these words to lay a hidden significance for a speaker who understands all four mentioned languages after transliteration. ニヴルヘイム, ニフルヘイム, and ニ��ルヘイム are all ways that Niflheim may be written in Japanese and would have all likely to have been pronounced 'Niburuheimu' and transliterated as Niflheim or Nibelheim depending on context. To somebody not writing on an explcitly Norse context, any of these might be as or more likely to be transliterated as 'Nibelheim.'

Japanese has no distinction between 'v,' 'f,' and 'b' sounds from loan words in its native phonemic inventory, and writing Niflheim as ニヴルヘイム is something that would not have been common in the mid-'90s. This is something that would have only become more common later as academic translations of works like those of Snorri Sturluson became available. These translations, though, would not have become common until the early 2000s, and the standardization of loaned words like Niflheim is recent enough that most articles about Niflheim in Japanese mention or use more than one of these forms.

This brings me to the second major claim, that the association of Final Fantasy VII's Nibelheim with Wagner's is misplaced when it ought to be attributed to Norse myth through word association. This is, to me, a baffling assertion when taken in context of the Compilation or the greater Japanese cultural context.

Setting aside that Final Fantasy VII (1997) is a Wagnerian spectacle at heart, the events of the Nibelheim Incident are even more reminiscent of a borrowing of Der Ring des Nibelungen than they are of Norse myth that would have been largely unavailable to the developers and relegated to university libraries miles and miles from Tokyo.

What would not have been difficult to access for somebody in Tokyo in the '80s and '90s would be the first and following performances of Wagner's Der Ring des Nibelungen in Japan as part of the climax of the Opera Boom, mostly centering on Siegfried and Götterdämmerung after their initial performances at the Tokyo Nikikai Opera. Japan was, in part, going through a kind of Wagner mania at the time as Marumoto Takashi points out in his writings on opera in Japan. It wasn't interest in Norse and German mythology that exploded interest in Wagner in Japan, but interest in Wagner that exploded interest in Norse and German mythology.

Knowing this, it is hard not to see Cloud braving the fires of Nibelheim in order to be there for an unconscious Tifa as reflexive of Siegfried conquering his fear to reach the unconscious valkyrie Brünnhilde through the ring of fire surrounding her in Siegfried. With the added context of Final Fantasy VII Rebirth in 2024 having both Cloud brave literal rings of fire while fighting an enemy named "Custom Valkyrie" with a woman he is explicitly the bodyguard of and a reference to Wagner's Götterdämmerung in the Götterdämmerung accessory instead of to Ragnarok, it almost feels like a dismissal of Wagnerian connections without knowing the content of Der Ring des Nibelungen or Wagner's influence in Japan in the '80s and '90s. It even excludes other possible readings of the work, like in Loveless where Alphreid almost appears as a portmanteau of two central names in Der Ring des Nibelungen - Siegfried and Alberich.

That's what frustrates me about discussions on Final Fantasy VII and the Compilation at large. When you combine that poor Eurocentrism that fails to notice the context of Final Fantasy VII (1997) with a clinging to the words and stated intent of the author, you get readings that might be fun but miss a lot of really cool stuff. Yeah, it is cool to look at Norse mythology, but Final Fantasy VII was made in a context of Wagner mania and the popularity of Western opera in the face of economic stagnation that peaked in the same year as Final Fantasy VII's international release with the founding of the National Opera.

I didn't cite any source here because I'm used to Tumblr hating outside links, but Marumoto Takashi's English work comes up rather easily on even just a Google search, and I'm willing to hand out links if asked. Most everything else was just language and looking at the works cited in the text itself.

[baiwu-jinji]

Hello! I’ve read your thoughts on TGCF and I really enjoy them.

I also like the cultural references and knowledge you bring to the table. It’s something that gets lost in English translation and learning about it just adds another layer to enjoy about TGCF.

Recently I saw some asks/answers compare Hualian to another couple. I haven’t read the other story 😅 but I have heard similar opinions of Hualian being very idealized, too perfect, unrealistic or all three.

I’ve been very curious about this part as I also have a vague memory of someone noting that even the author says Hualian is like a fairytale.

I was surprised about this because their softness, respect and unconditional love for each other is something I really love about them.🌸🌸🌸

Could you share more of your perspective on this?

Is it the waiting 800 years part? The unconditional acceptance and devotion on Hua Cheng’s part(and Xie Lian’s side too)? The lack of arguments between them?

For my part , obviously 800 years is a fantastical amount of time to remain in love and devoted to someone. Especially considering how little time Hua Cheng spent with Xie Lian in the beginning. I am totally willing to suspend my belief for these two points and chalk it up to Hua Cheng’s personality. I also think Hua Cheng’s love for Xie Lian grew and matured as he did.

It’s really interesting too that those very positive traits - unconditional devotion, faith and love (not obedience because honestly Hua cheng quiet frequently disobeys😅) while more obviously written in a positive light can be explored in fanfiction from the other end. And I don’t mean obsession or stalking, but more like loving someone to the point of your own detriment.

And Hualian, though certainly they didn’t really argue in the book, they did have disagreements. (And I think in the revised novel, of at least the translated part I read, they do get a more serious argument)

To me, their easy acceptance and the unconditional love aspect can be chalked up to their personality, life experiences and the fact they both have lived centuries long.

Anyhow, I know I rambled on a bit. 😅😅😅

But I am really curious on your feedback about this or a link if you answered this more in detail with a similar ask.

Thank you! 😊

Hi! :) Thank you for your kind words and sorry about the really late reply ><  MXTX once wrote about a dream she had where a voice told her that TGCF is like a “a little red clay stove” (I translated MXTX’s dream here). The literary reference of “a little red clay stove” symbolises the warmth and comfort of domestic life and the joy of friendship and companionship, which I think is what MXTX wants Hualian’s relationship to stand for - Hualian is meant to be warm, tender, homely and cosy, with as little friction as possible in the relationship. It is a very idealised relationship (how can it not be with HC’s unfading love for and faith in XL and XL’s instinctual and almost instant trust in HC), and that’s why people love Hualian, because we long to be loved with such unconditional acceptance and unwavering devotion ourselves, and we want to find someone we could love with unconditional acceptance and unwavering devotion, whether such love is possible in real life or not. Hualian’s success and popularity is clearly not due to it being a gritty and brutally honest interrogation of the complexities of romantic relationships in realistic contexts, but because it is the sort of ideal relationship of pure bliss people dream of having. Therefore I can’t say Hualian’s idealisation of romantic relationships is one of its literary flaws because it’s never aiming to be otherwise, and its idealistic nature is one of its main selling points.

This is a digression but what I find interesting about Hualian is this sort of paradox in HC being both a lover and a worshipper - to worship a god is to worship his divine infallibility, but to love a human is to love his human fallibility (but then Borges said that “to fall in love is to create a religion that has a fallible god”, so that resolves the paradox?). And it makes me think about what HC means when he says to XL “I’m forever your most devoted believer.” What is it that HC eternally believes in as XL's believer? It’s not XL’s infallibility, or perfection, or omnipotence, or incorruptibility, or inexhuastable goodness that HC believes in, because XL is neither of those things, so what is it that HC believes in? Maybe what HC forever believes in is the fact that he will love XL forever - maybe that’s what HC is a believer of…

I hope this answer makes sense, and in short I meant to say that I can’t deny Hualian is idealised, but that’s what makes them appealing.

[fairybinie]

KISS, DON’T TELL — 15: if's and when's

synopsis: popular and menacingly wicked choi beomgyu has the entire senior class wrapped around his finger. the high school drama club has cherished y/n as their veteran for four years. to fulfill beomgyu’s graduation requirements, he must join y/n’s drama club despite his grudges. unbeknownst to everyone else, y/n and beomgyu have their history. they’ve kissed before (or more like y/n has bitten his lip to bleed) and beomgyu hasn’t lived it down ever since. y/n cannot stand this guy. they can make it through the entire year as the leads in their play, right?

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a/n: written (3.8k) + smau. mentions of kissing, nothing else i can see! so sorry for the wait i hope this was worth it 😔

...

but good to know :D

really y/n?

y/n could have chosen to ignore the last few messages of his remorse and just told him them were on their way. they also could have chosen to ignore that beomgyu can actually bring a smile to their face and their limited interactions have been replaying in their head since they have occurred. it’s hard to ignore a feeling like that.

texting beomgyu these past days and observing him in class has led y/n to believe that maybe there is more to him than what he is displaying. it’s no doubt that he keeps up an image for everyone else to believe and roll with, hell, even idolize with. y/n knew that already, but they weren’t sure if there was anything below the surface. did he even have a personality besides the obnoxious one that was 24/7? the fact that he seemed to be sorrowful about his comments just now might insinuate that he has a conscious. sure, it wasn’t there before. perhaps something shifted in the boy recently. why?

come to think of it, y/n really doesn't know anything about this guy. he plays guitar, that’s something, right? does beomgyu want to become a musician despite being stern about the fact that he doesn’t have a passion? he has to have one.

questions, questions, questions that y/n is hoping to get answers to.

most of all, why is he still hung up on the shared kiss that happened four years ago?

choi beomgyu intrigues them, whether they would like to admit it or not.

“y/n! hello?”

y/n shudders away their thoughts and stares blankly at the red light in front of them. their hands grip tightly around the dark leather material around their steering wheel as they glance at their car radio. an ongoing call with their friends that has lasted fifteen minutes.

y/n reaches for their temple as they begin to mindlessly rub circles, waiting for the light to turn green. they kept their word to soobin’s request to call them when they were heading to beomgyu’s house.

“sorry, what happened?”

someone groans in response, y/n’s guess is eliana. her groans were engrained in their head as they were always the receiving end to them.

“we were talking about going to disneyland during winter break,” eliana reminds with no distinction in her voice.

yes, disneyland. of course. y/n readjusts themselves to the mood and the light changes as they do, stepping their foot on the gas pedal.

“right- yeah, i’m on board-”

a howl cuts y/n off mid sentence as each speaker in the vehicle blasts with each rhythm of laughter, that of which belongs to kai. y/n is taken aback momentarily, but it soon hits them that was not the topic of conversation.

“can we actually go, though?” kai genuinely asks once he pulls himself together. soobin agreeingly replies with instinct to satisfy kai in the moment.

“you’re not paying attention,” eliana points out to y/n, seeing right through them despite not being in the car with them. “what’s up, babe?”

y/n makes a U-turn once they realize that they missed the correct street. “sorry guys, i was distracted.”

“y/n, you don’t have to go if you’re not comfortable,” soobin advises which brings a slight smile to y/n’s face. soobin was always protective over them and the whole group appreciated him for it, even if it could be overbearing at times.

“no no, it’s not that,” y/n reassures as they look at their phone mounted on the dashboard to check if this is the right corner to make a turn.

“then what is it?” kai asks with some concern in his voice. being the youngest in the group has always made him worry for his older friends. he was a perfect little brother.

“nothing! trust me,” y/n barely tries to sound convincing. the group looks it over this one time considering that y/n is driving. it would be understandable if their attention wasn’t fully there.

y/n ends the gps navigation as they push the center console to park. “i’m here.”

they haven’t been to beomgyu’s house in years, not since the incident occurred. frankly, the trauma it induced for them made them forget the details of the inside. the patio outside reminisces the other houses in this neighborhood. though it’s dark outside, the beaming stars in the night sky highlight the string of florescent lights that shape the doorway in the front. it’s a nice touch, they remember it made them feel comfortable coming in last time.

“it’s not too late to back out,” soobin says one last time. he’s still nervous for his best friend.

“i’ll be fine soobin,” y/n replies before he continues to go on. they stare at the home and release a whisper. “i hope.”

“okay, well, text us right after,” eliana cautions, bringing out her inner mother role.

a swarm of goodbyes and love you’s were exchanged before the call was ended. y/n detaches their phone from the dashboard and gathers their essentials and soon exit the vehicle. they give their car a lock as they head towards the doorway. each footstep is light, but tense. it’s until now that they see some bear stickers on the door and they can’t help but admire the cuteness. they wonder if that was a recent addition as it wasn’t there the last time.

with a big inhale, they ring the doorbell.

there was a moment of waiting and y/n contemplated ringing it one more time. they remember what eliana said about coming across as desperate, but they never cared about that prior to this. in all honesty, they needed to rely on beomgyu. he was their co-star after all.

why do they now feel this twisting feeling inside their stomach at the thought of being desperate?

y/n hears footsteps approach the door and they straighten their sweater to prepare. they’re wearing a simple white t-shirt that hugs their figure just right with a light blue hooded sweater, courtesy of kai. his clothes were always the comfiest and y/n made it a habit to search through his closet every time they come over. soobin gets slightly pouty at the thought. y/n doesn’t know if it’s because they borrow kai’s clothes, or if he wants to borrow them. the thought makes them chuckle.

fresh conditioned air blows right at y/n’s face as the door opens and the boy stands at the other end. he’s wearing brown plaid pajama bottoms topped with a beige crewneck with a teddy bear in the right corner. that little detail makes y/n think the decor on the door was intentional. a hint of softness makes some way into their heart. they fight the urge to smile.

“hey,” beomgyu greets with a downwards smile. “did you make it over here safe?”

beomgyu’s voice has a naturally tired tone to it. even if he’s not sleepy it always sounds casual and lustful. y/n doesn’t know if it’s always been like this or if they just noticed.

he’s also asking about their safety. who is this guy?

“um, yeah,” y/n replies as they rock their feet back and forth. beomgyu nods and realizes that he has to let them inside so he opens the door all the way and reaches his arm out to gesture the inside. y/n takes the offer.

with each step y/n observes the house as much as they can. it has been a while since they’ve been here but as far as they remember, not much has changed. some furniture has been rearranged and some new decor here and there, but it’s still very much beomgyu’s home. the interior has black and brown elements which gives it a homey feeling. it’s like if autumn and hot chocolate was a home.

just like he said, he did have the house to himself. beomgyu leads them to the kitchen and y/n sees a few family photos plastered on the fridge door. some were just of his parents, others were baby pictures of beomgyu. it seems like he’s always been on the devious side after catching a glance of a young boy pointing a toy gun at the camera with no thought behind his eyes.

y/n glimpses at a group photo with beomgyu, his parents, and an older child. they were posing in front of an amusement park with big grins on their faces. y/n has never seen this other boy before, perhaps it was beomgyu’s brother.

y/n shifts their gaze over to the kitchen counter and sees two bowls of ramen sitting in the center. guess he was being serious about providing them with food. they were starving though.

“i don’t know how you usually eat yours so i just put my fixings on,” beomgyu speaks slightly embarrassed. y/n eyes the bowl a little longer than they intended. they were just trying to piece together why on earth he would make them food.

“relax, i didn’t poison it or anything,” beomgyu jokes while holding the soup in his hands, digging into his first bite with his chopsticks. the idea did cross y/n’s mind, which makes them feel a bit apologetic.

is that how bad they see him?

y/n slowly walks over to the aisle and joins beomgyu. “do you want to work here?”

“we could go to my room,” beomgyu suggests as his eyes hide behind his bowl while he slurps some broth. there was no hint of anything sinister in beomgyu’s voice but the statement still makes y/n’s eyes widen.

“no,” they simply respond faster than they wished. they walk around the counter and sit in one of the spinning chairs where their bowl lays out in front of them. “right here is fine.”

beomgyu shrugs his shoulders and sits down next to them. y/n reaches to their tote bag and pulls out the lengthy script which has notes sticking out from certain areas and highlighted parts to accompany them. beomgyu nearly chokes mid slurp at the sight.

“sooo, how do we do this?” as beomgyu stretches out his question, y/n takes their first bite into their food. just as they feared, it was delicious. so much flavor in everything, but not too overbearing in being salty or spicy. they could attempt to figure out which brand he used, but they’re here for other things.

“well,” y/n finishes swallowing their food. “we could start with any questions you might have.”

“yeah, i’m sure you have all the answers,” beomgyu stiffly laughs as he brings his head forward to the script that centers in front of the two.

y/n feels their cheeks flush red and heat up at the exposure. they hope he doesn’t notice. “i just mean if you need anything to be clarified. it could help you play the role better.”

beomgyu draws in his breath and stares at the stack of papers longingly. throughout his education, he was taught to find the theme of each piece he reads. reading this script has given him an idea of what it could be in this case, but some parts are a bit foggy. he feels self-conscious asking y/n what it is. he doesn’t want them to think he’s an idiot, even though they probably already think he is. they’ve made their dislike for him quite obvious.

“um, i guess,” beomgyu holds his gaze in front but can feel y/n’s eyes on his. his blood pulses through his skin. “what this story is really about, you know, deep down.”

he’s expecting y/n to laugh in his face just like he did to them the other day, but they don’t. instead, y/n understandingly nods as they push their half eaten soup to the side to leave enough room to put their elbows on the table. for some reason, beomgyu finds this endearing. he was always scolded for leaving his elbows on the table. it wasn’t polite, apparently.

“well, ben is at crossroads when he gets into a college with a full basketball scholarship, but also gets into his dream school that would support his performing arts career. no one knows he's interested in that field so it's the good 'ol following the head or heart thing, which i'm always a sucker for.”

beomgyu watches y/n go on about the story for the production, even going over key plots that beomgyu might have missed. he notices there seems to be stars in y/n's eyes as they continue to talk. he can tell that they're speaking from the heart.

“i'm assuming that's the passion concept mrs. kim was going over in class the first day?” beomgyu guesses in thought.

“yeah, ben loves to perform and even plays guitar at some point,” y/n eagerly responds. “which should be easy for you, since you play right?”

beomgyu feels a small smile form on his lips. he quickly covers it up with another bite of his meal.

“wouldn't you consider that your passion?” y/n decides to try to get an answer out of him. it's been bugging them all this time that he hasn't been open about it.

“i know you really enjoy it, beomgyu,” y/n did catch his change in expression earlier. “you must be good at it too. if you admit that's what you're passionate about, it'll help you a ton.”

there's a moment of silence as beomgyu takes in their words and figures out what to do with them. the quiet atmosphere is almost uncomfortable and y/n can't tell if they've overstepped their boundaries. they consider leaving, but they did have an agenda here, and that was to rehearse some of this with beomgyu. instead, they opt for reaching to turn the page.

“i do love playing guitar,” beomgyu promptly admits. “and it is my passion. my uncle gave me my first guitar when i was in middle school and i haven't stopped playing since.”

y/n smiles at the thought of a small beomgyu, who was probably more unhinged than he is now, sitting down and playing a relaxing acoustic guitar. if they were told this years ago, they wouldn't have believed it. the more they look at beomgyu, it suits him. the calluses on certain fingers with those round, deep brown eyes of his focusing on a music sheet. the low husk to his voice covering songs with a beautiful essence.

“why didn't you want to admit it in class?” y/n realizes they needed to speak before it appears they've been staring at the boy for too long.

“because i barely wanted to admit it to myself,” beomgyu responds in full honesty. “my parents just see it as a hobby and don't think it can take me anywhere in life as it's not an official profession.”

y/n recalls the text beomgyu sent about only them and his parents knowing he plays guitar. his last sentence even has them think about their conversations with their dad, that sentiment hits too close to home. y/n chooses not to bring it up to beomgyu. they sit with caution as they wonder how many questions they could ask him.

“there's so many things you could do with that talent,” instead of potentially saying the wrong thing, y/n offers him some possible careers to lift his spirits. “you could be a songwriter, a producer. hey, even when you make it in the big leagues you could be a sound engineer in the blockbuster movies!”

there's a part to y/n's monologue that catches beomgyu's attention.

when you make it in the big leagues.

they didn't say if, they said when. beomgyu has never heard that word in regards to his future. it was always 'if', 'maybe', or any other tense that doubts his passion.

has he gotten his first supporter? and was it someone he has shared a moment so personal as a kiss?

“you said when,” beomgyu decides to bring up the fact.

it takes a moment for y/n to register what he means, but with the astonished expression on his face, the feeling soon settles in on them. y/n has their supporters, it was time for beomgyu to have his. despite how they feel about him and their past history that annoyingly hangs on their head, they weren't a monster. perhaps it was time to see beomgyu in a different light and it appears that they were the only one to do so.

“so throughout the story dae is there for ben to open his eyes in realizing that pursuing his dream is the right path to go,” y/n steers off in a different direction. “since it's romance, of course there has to be a fling between them.”

beomgyu softly smiles to himself picturing the story unfold. “i'm sure ben appreciates dae being there for him and seeing what he can do.”

y/n feels warm as they see beomgyu finally start to understand the plot and it only took them to have an honest conversation. talking with beomgyu wasn't as bad as they expected.

“i'm sure dae loves supporting him through it all when no one else would.”

beomgyu lifts his head up to face y/n who is gazing right back at him. it's the first time their expression isn't written in disgust or annoyance. in fact, it appears to be loving. he wishes it could always be like this.

the moment stretches out a little longer and beomgyu can't help but glance down at y/n's lips. he wonders if it still tastes like cherry chapstick. the red tint they have makes him believe it's still accurate. y/n catches the gesture and coughs down some air as they play with the edges of the paper. they fight the urge to not rip the ends of it and curl them into little balls, a habit they got from kai.

“so…yeonjun and taehyun don't know?” y/n speaks in an airy voice, their eyes still locked on the words written in front of them.

beomgyu doesn't know if they're referring to the guitar thing, or the kiss they shared four years ago.

frankly, y/n isn't sure about what they mean either.

still, beomgyu chooses an answer to please both questions.

“not a single thing.”

y/n hums in response, their lips tight together. beomgyu plays with the chopsticks in his now empty bowl when he hears a voice speak up once again.

“would you be able to play for me?”

beomgyu knows this question is referring to his talent for guitar, and due to the seriousness he's been displaying this entire time now, he switches gears for a lighthearted moment.

“i'll play for you when we go on a date.”

y/n would expect some rage boil down to their stomach, as they would have reacted that way before. this feeling, though? was it butterflies? nervousness? whatever it was, it sure wasn't negative. this night is full of firsts.

“do you…do you want to rehearse some of it now?” y/n clears their throat in between. beomgyu doesn't question their non-response and agrees with a head nod.

…

the two got through the first act right at midnight. to their surprise, beomgyu wasn't that bad at acting. sure, he missed a couple cues that ensued some awkward presentations, but it's nothing they couldn't work on together. they even liked the slight challenge. being co-stars with soobin now seemed too easy for them.

beomgyu was the difference they needed.

“you can be honest, you know,” beomgyu speaks in a playful manner as he finishes the last dish to wash. he hands the bowl for y/n to dry with a damp rag.

“i mean it! you weren't terrible,” y/n chuckles while they reach to put the bowl away in the cupboards.

after beomgyu and y/n finished rehearsing the first half they decided to wash the dishes. y/n didn't even suggest helping him dry, they just did it with no questions asked. still, it was another conversation starter.

“that means a lot coming from you,” beomgyu snickers and reaches for the rag in y/n's hands to dry his own. he smiles at them while looking down at their sweater, noticing a small stain of sauce near the front.

“hey, you got something there,” he points out as y/n glances down at the gesture, mentally cursing in their head. they hated getting their clothes dirty, let alone their borrowed ones from kai.

y/n whines as they reach for a paper towel to attempt to clean it off, only to have beomgyu stop them in between the action.

“you'll make it worse,” beomgyu advises. “i have a washing machine upstairs if you wanted to stay a little while longer.”

y/n would have rejected the offer if it weren't for their washing machine being repaired as they speak. they really loved this sweatshirt, they were hoping to wear it again this week. they scrunch their nose as their left eye slightly squints, thinking about what they should do.

they weren't repulsed by hanging out with beomgyu a little more, but sleep was about to hit them at any moment. it was better if they left now before they accidentally take a nap at a red light.

“i would but i should be getting home,” y/n apologetically responds.

“are you sure? you could give it to me and i'll have it ready for you tomorrow,” beomgyu cringes at the fact that he sounds like a dry cleaner. y/n finds it amusing.

man, how they loved that sweatshirt.

“fine just- don't screw it up,” y/n warns as they slip off the piece of clothing, feeling a breeze hit the bottom of their stomach as it lifts a little along with it.

y/n hands him the sweatshirt warily, hesitating to give it to him all the way, to which beomgyu responds with a deadpan. y/n smiles and ultimately gives it to him, and beomgyu places it on the couch for him to put away later.

y/n walks over to their tote bag and beomgyu suggests walking them outside. part of it was to be a gentleman, but he just wanted to see them drive away safely. y/n wouldn't be aware of the second option.

“don't forget your script next time,” y/n finally instructs him at the door. they're on the outside as beomgyu stays inside, hanging his arm on the doorframe as a slight smirk forms on his face.

“wouldn't count on it, i love this story too much now,” beomgyu doesn't mean to admit the last part, but y/n can't help but cheese at the statement.

“i'm glad to hear that,” y/n crosses their arms with a grin as they take a few steps back, ready to head to their vehicle.

“i'll give you updates on your sweater when i text you,” beomgyu calls out to them. “goodnight, drive safe.”

y/n sends over two thumbs up and begins to back up once they're inside their car. beomgyu doesn't head inside until they're completely out of his sight.

…

y/n doesn't fall asleep as quickly as they would've thought. they've been spending the past hour mindlessly scrolling through their feed, feeling their eyes blink slowly each time.

how could they sleep when tonight went better than they thought?

a notification appears at the top that brings a grin ear to ear and it's at this moment they realize one thing.

there would be no false promises between them and beomgyu.

there would be no more 'if's'.

please do not translate, modify or repost on other platforms.

© fairybinie

[missgryffin]

Thanks for the tag @jamesunderwater! Loved reading your answers!

🍓 how did you get into writing fanfiction?

My first (very bad, very cringe) foray was between releases of OotP, HBP, and DH. Back then I was writing Marauders as well as 7th Year for the Golden Trio and a post-Hogwarts fic called "Friends" in which Harry, Ron, and Hermione lived together in Grimmauld Place 🥲

🍇How many fandoms have you written in?

Just HP!

🍈 How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

I mean, I went through the early childhood fanfic phase that lasted 1-2 years, but then I didn't write again until picking it up in 2020 as an adult. So really, only about 4 years now of writing consistently, and maybe 6 years total in my life.

🍎 Do you read or write more fanfiction?

I also definitely write way more than I read. Mostly this is a product of limited time—writing is a creative outlet for me, and when I have the time for it, that's usually what I reach for.

🍌 What is one way you've improved as a writer?

I think I've improved a lot with descriptions and vocabulary. Like for example, with revising LFTS and ES, there's been so many moments where I find myself just intuitively taking a sentence or small exchange or small paragraph, and expanding it into something that is just a better portrayal of that moment? It's hard to explain, but when I do the side-by-side comparison, it feels more elevated, and I think that's going back to improving on writing descriptions of what's happening that feel more fluid.

🍑 Do you have any bad habits as a writer?

Oof okay not sticking to a solid writing routine resonated with me too, that's definitely something I'm trying to be better at but it's hard!! Also a major bad habit for me is focusing too much on word count and setting unrealistic expectations for what I can accomplish in certain amounts of time. I've had to do a lot of mindset work to adjust to the fact that some of my old methods were unhealthy and unsustainable, and simply aren't realistic with making writing fit into my current, healthier lifestyle. But it's hard! Old habits and mindsets are ingrained and so tempting to default to. Like I've tried using daily word count goals several times, and it's always a trap. One would think I've learned my lesson, ha!

🍍 What's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Hmm nothing's really coming to mind as being particularly "weird." I do ping @redrobyn285 and @welsh-green about Britishisms from time to time, and that often sparks funny conversations about cultural differences. Like for example, we recently had a very in-depth conversation about terminology for dorm rooms and different sizes of beds 🤣 But in all seriousness, I learn a lot from them and owe so much of the Evans family lore to their input!

🍉What's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

The play-by-play reactions are my absolute fave! It's so gratifying and fun, especially when there's suspense and tension involved in the story and you feel like you're bonding with the commenter through the shared experience of all the emotions happening.

🍐What's the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

Hmm Castling was pretty fringe, I don't want to spoil it for anyone who hasn't read, but I'm not aware of any other Jily fics dealing with ~that~. But besides that, I don't think anything on my current slate is that fringe tbh. I've mostly been writing Hogwarts Jily lately, and that's pretty vanilla as far as tropes go. But I do have some adult!Jily in my back pocket that have some more fringe tropes for me 👀

🥭What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

Angst. Hands down. I think because I'm an empath, dwelling in dark emotions for a story can be really difficult for me. Probably the angstiest scene I've ever written is the opening scene of Vindicated, and there's a reason that's only like 800 words 😂

🍏What is the easiest type?

Rom-com style fluff and smut! I'm such a sucker for all the classic sexual-tension builders: bantering, jealousy, flirting, a little sprinkle of comedy, pining, awkwardness. It makes me giggle and kick my feet while writing, and it puts me in a happy mood every time I'm writing it, which is probably why I'm addicted to it 😇

🍑Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

Scrivener! I'm at a point now where I've learned enough of its functionality that I truly can't imagine ever going back. It's my fave. I also use Notion religiously for my whole life, and that includes fanfic, but I don't actually write in Notion unless I'm jotting down ideas on my phone or brain-dumping an idea that doesn't have a Scrivener doc yet.

🍋What is something you've been too nervous/ intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

Domestic/Pregnant/Parent Jily. For the simple reason that I haven't experienced being pregnant/having kids yet and I feel like a fish out of water trying to write it because I don't know what I'm talking about 😂

🍇What made you choose your username?

I don't really remember the whole thought process anymore, but I love the musician/DJ Gryffin and was listening to some of his first album a lot in formulating ES, I am very much a Gryffindor, and also wanted something short, sweet, catchy that would be easy for people to remember and spell. And honestly I think missgryffin just popped into my head at some point after that!

I might be late to the game on this one, but tagging @petals2fish @apalapucian @blitheringmcgonagall if you're interested! 🫶

[saratinz]

Maneater (Chapter 1)

pairing ➩ Ex!Bucky Barnes x Promiscuous!Reader (College AU)

series warnings ➩ drinking, asshole!Bucky, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, love triangle, smut, slut shaming, cursing

chapter warnings ➩ cursing, mentions of sex, kissing, betrayal (because reader is very bad at self control)

synopsis ➩ Y/n fucks up.

word count ➩ 800

“Truth or dare, Sophia?” says a drunk frat boy. You’re barely paying attention to the game. Instead you are focusing on the music that plays. You listen as it goes from The Killers to Kendrick Lamar. And from Kendrick to Dua Lipa. And from Dua to…

“Y/n?” Your friend, Wanda, pulls you out of your trance. 

“Truth or dare?” you hear a dude ask. The voice belongs to Thor, who definitely falls under the dumb jock stereotype. He’s not mean, but he also isn’t nice. It’s his ego that repels you.

“Dare,” you say without hesitation.

“Hmm,” he pretends to think. You already know he’s gonna tell you to kiss him. It’s written all over his face for one, he’s giving you major ‘fuck me’ eyes. “Kiss me,” and there it is. You walk over to him, grab him by the cheek, and connect your lips to his. It starts to get awkward for everyone as he sticks his tongue in your mouth as far as it will go. Not wanting to continue this uncomfortable embrace, you pull back and return to the spot beside Wan. Drinking your vodka and cranberry juice, you dare her to take a shot. 

As the game goes on you think about things. Like all those times Jane, your roommate, mentioned she had a thing for Thor. Well by the looks of it, he does not feel the same way. He’s a player and she should know that. The only reason he kissed you was the hope of sex. He’s not a keeper, so no, you don’t feel bad about your dare.

A half hour goes by and the game finally ends, leaving you to go back to your house. When suddenly, Thor pops by your side. “Can I walk you home?” He asks.

“Uhh, sure,” you give him a slight smile. A walk home is innocent, and you like the sound of having a football player by your side as you travel across campus in the dark. 

“So, I know we haven’t really talked that much, but I think you’re really cool and pretty, and maybe sometime we can go on a date.” He takes you by surprise, maybe Jane was right. Honestly, you had never expected the word date to come out of his mouth, and it’s really making you want him. What girl doesn’t like a little bit of attention?

“You know what, I’d really like that, but my friend is sorta in love with you.”

“Who,  Jane?”

“Yeah” You feel kinda wrong for telling him, but you’re not in middle school and it seems like he already knows. Your friendship with Jane is pretty superficial, she really just uses you for your notoriety among male students. But you’re not complaining, her dad pays for your housing. Of course you offered to pay your share, but he insisted.

“She’s spoiled and petty, but you, you’re perfect.” Shit. Fuck. Thor is saying all the right things. The silence that surrounds you is comforting, and you don’t feel bad at all, everything feels safe as you walk for a few uninterrupted seconds. 

“Listen as much as I want to kiss you, and I really do, I just can’t. I have to respect my friend, and she really likes you. You’re off limits”

“Wow, you’re a really good friend, sorry I don’t mean to make you feel pressured.”

“No, don’t feel bad. Shit, I made this awkward.”

He chuckles. “No you didn’t, just, I shouldn’t have asked you out” For three minutes, the two of you walk in silence. But being a good person was never your strong-suit. 

“What you said it isn’t true, I’m not a good friend.” He raises his eyebrows in curiosity. As you approach your doorway, your lips run to his, leaving the two of you making out right in front of your rental. His tongue is much more calculated than it was at the party, and his hands start to squeeze your ass. That’s when you pull back. You can’t do this.

“I’m sorry,” you say, disappointment evident in your tone. This is just wrong, you’re a horrible friend. You run to your door and slam the it shut. What the fuck did you just do? As you melt into the wall, struggling to breathe, you see Jane with the angriest expression you’ve ever seen. “Jane, I’m so sorry. I don’t even know why I did that.” 

Suddenly, your home is filled with screams of disappointment, anger, sadness, jealousy, and just about every negative emotion known to man. “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” And you don’t bother reasoning with her, she will always get her way. 

Previous chapter / Masterlist / Next chapter

[1800-fight-me]

So i was just re-reading 'Broken Vows' and I was wondering do you think the reader and Aemond ever told Ned about who his true father was or he just found out on his own? (also I am so sorry if you have already answered this question)

2nd Epilogue- Broken Vows

Part One Part Two Part Three First Epilogue

Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader

Rating: M (Mature) As always, minors please do not interact! 

Warnings: Angst

Word count: About 800 (it’s a lil one!) 

Synopsis: Your son learns the truth about his parentage.

Author’s note: Okay but for real this ask made me emotional. Broken Vows is my favorite thing I've ever written, literally a labor of love, and you're telling me that you liked it enough to read it more than once?? And it's on your mind enough that you have questions for me about it?? I am kissing you right on the forehead!! Please enjoy this drabble I wrote way back when I was writing the fic that I did not think anyone would be interested in!!

Important announcement!! I am no longer using a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! 

Aemond Masterlist

“Tell me the truth, mother!” your son yelled as tears streamed down his face. 

“Oh, my little dragon heart,” you said gently as you reached for his hand. 

He snatched it away and glared at you. 

“I am no longer little. Tell me the truth of it!” 

You took a deep steadying breath. “Ned, whatever you have heard, you do not need to heed the words of gossipers-” 

“Tell me!” he yelled just as Aemond strode into your shared chambers. 

You sat down heavily and placed a hand on your pregnant belly. 

“Why are you raising your voice at my wife?” Aemond asked sharply as he came to your side. 

“She is my mother and-” 

“She was mine long before she was ever your mother, you best show her respect and watch your tongue, boy,” Aemond said angrily as he placed a hand on your shoulder. 

The twelve year old boy blinked in shock and disbelief, both at Aemond’s words and his harsh tone that he never used with his children. 

Though, Aemond has always been vicious in his protection of you. 

“Aemond,” you protested softly, but he did not turn to you. He instead continued to stare at his son. 

“T-that’s not true, is it? She- she was married to my father first. Mother, tell me it is not true, please,” he said with tears in his eyes as he fell to his knees before you. 

“Ned,” you said gently as you ran your fingers through his snow white hair. 

“Am I a bastard?” he asked as tears streamed down his young face. 

You looked up at Aemond and he nodded, letting you know that he agreed with you that it was time to tell him the truth. 

“You were born of love. That is all that matters,” you said gently. 

He shook his head and tears streamed down his cheeks, still chubby with youth. 

Aemond sat down next to you and placed a gentle hand on Ned’s shoulder. 

“So it is true? You are my true father?” he asked Aemond. 

Aemond nodded. 

Ned buried his face in your lap and wrapped his arms around your waist as he sobbed. 

“Is that why you have always called me your little dragon heart when we are alone?” he asked, his voice muffled by your skirts. 

“Yes, you were born of the love between Aemond and I. The timing does not matter-” 

“It matters!” he exclaimed as he sobbed again. 

You sighed. 

“It matters,” Aemond agreed. “Your last name is Stark instead of Targaryen as it should be. Your claim to Winterfell will always be questioned due to the color of your hair and your resemblance to me and your younger siblings. And unfortunately, you will not have a dragon as Targaryens should.” 

“Why would you do this to her? To me?” Ned accused him in a harsh tone. 

“It is more complicated than you understand or need to know right now,” you said gently. 

He sniffled. 

“Not many children can say they were born of love rather than duty,” you consoled as you ran your fingers through your son’s hair once again. 

“It will be alright, son. We will deal with any difficulties together as a family,” Aemond said and Ned nodded before he unwrapped himself from you and stood. 

He looked at Aemond, who smiled softly at him. 

“You have called me father since shortly after you learned to speak as I wed your mother when you were only three years of age. Nothing has changed,” Aemond reassured him as he stood. 

Ned sought refuge in his father’s chest as he hugged him and Aemond squeezed him lovingly. 

“Do not worry on this anymore, my little dragon heart,” you said and he nodded as he turned back to you. 

He looked back at Aemond. 

“I am sorry I raised my voice at you, mother,” he said shamefully. 

“I know you are,” you said as you raised your face in a gesture he knew meant you expected him to kiss you on the cheek. He complied with a sheepish smile. 

“Go on,” Aemond said as he ruffled his hair. 

Once Ned left, Aemond sat next to you and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. 

His hand rubbed your growing belly as he pressed another kiss to your forehead. 

You melted into his touch. 

“That was a difficult conversation,” you sighed. 

He nodded. 

“It was inevitable though,” he said. 

“I just thought he would be older before we would have to tell him,” you lamented. 

“I am surprised it took this long,” he said. 

You sighed again. 

“It will be alright, dear heart. We will deal with any hardships together,” he comforted you as he pulled you onto his lap. 

You nodded. 

“Kiss me again,” you asked. 

“Of course, lovely wife,” he said before he pressed his lips to yours. 

[fluffyprettykitty]

expression

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x female reader (no other specifications)

Word Count: 800 words

Outline: Joaquin has an idea for trying something new in bed, you oblige.

Warnings: anal play, anilingus, cumshot, swearing, ya know the usual.

Author’s Note: written as a VERY VERY late birthday gift for @tom-whore-dleston ;)

P.S: dividers & banners by @saradika​

Main Masterlist ・❥・Joaquin Torres Masterlist

You have been dating for a while, four months to be precise and the more kinky Joaquin found out you were the more he fell in love. He never knew just how many things he could like beyond the usual and what conventional porn had taught and as this was the most established relationship for the both of you now was the time to learn.

And boy did he love learning.

It's Friday night and you are out playing pool with his friends. You don't care about that, you care about spending time with him, watching him laugh and drink and playfight with his friends and kiss you warmly when he won.

He did like showing off. And you loved seeing him happy.

Coming close behind him, you place your hand on his back as he is bent on the table. You bring your lips close to his ear, and almost practically throw all of your body on him and whisper "Anything you want, anything at all, I will do for you tonight."

You knew what he wanted, he had told you last night and confessed to you his most important, most devoured porn history.

Mouth and tongue on the ass, that's rimming. He wanted to know how it felt, he had done it to you and your reaction had led him down a very merry walk.

And you nodded your head, you hadn't tried it before either but you'd take your time to research and see if you can do it. And he knew you'd done your research that's what you both usually do when one wanted something new to try.

It's hard for him of to get gloriously hard when you did that and so he try his hardest to calm himself down but ten minutes later he grabbed your hand and threw you on his motorcycle so quickly.

And once you are home, he goes back to being nervous.

"What if I'm not clean enough?" "I'll let you know baby, I won't get grossed out."

Joaquin liked everything but he mostly liked good clear communication and meeting your needs and his needs equally.

You shared a shower and then in your bathrobes, you both came to lay on your bed. Starting with the softest of kisses, to the licking of your breasts (as if he'd ever miss an opportunity to do so) to the soft bites down his thighs.

And it all ended with you kneeling on the bed as you usually did, you started by licking the veins of his cock, to his balls and just moving your tongue a little further down there. Blowing some air on the perineum area only to get that extra hiss from him.

Joaquin accommodates you by getting himself on a pillow to lift him up a little better and admittedly the eye-level contact only arouses you more.

Slow long licks using the flat of your tongue as your preferred method for this new encounter, tease and soften and build potential, and the noises Joaquin made let you know it was all working. He whimpered and his cock twitched when your tongue worked on him like that. Using your tongue than on circular movements slowly and expertly around his anus.

His cute fluffy hair was falling on his face as he was trying to watch you down there, his one hand wrapping around his cock. You giggled as you watched him get into a more and more erotic state, your one finger teasing his butthole only made him much more desperate.

What a sight, what a man.

You switch back to softly kissing his skin and Joaquin curses you out, calling you a tease before resorting to begging you.

You slap his hand on his cock so he can remove it and you fist it instead, moving it up and down in time with your licks. You continue your movements and as you tease the tip so does your tongue on his anus.

He curses again, repeating your name and he starts to warn you that he's cumming and for once you'll sacrifice shooting on his stomach rather than on your breasts just as you liked.

It doesn't take him long to finish because he had been expecting it all day and just the contact of knowing it's happening alleviated him faster. Next time he'll last longer he's telling you and you're shrugging, you don't mind taking all the time in the world to find out everything he likes.

You come up to kiss him passionately on the lips and he thanks you profusely and then with a bright smile on his face, he says

"My turn now mi hermosa, on your hands and knees."

And just like that he turned it into a competition.

Not that you minded.

If you want to be notified about my future stories please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on notifications!

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

Bad Day - A "Kissing You" Drabble

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Rating: No warnings that I know of, just a bunch of fluff with the briefest of mentions about other enjoyable activities with our boy

Word Count: 800

Prompt #5 : Intertwining fingers

a/n: Okay, so I've been working on something for a while, and this is not that something, but rather a small piece of a different something that I'm really trying to convince myself to share. But for now, here's a small piece of that thing that I want to share for @browneyes-issac. I'm so sorry you had a horrible day at work and my brain wouldn't stop until I wrote this in hopes that it might help, even just a little. This is also my first ever released Frankie fic, and also my first time writing f!reader, and also the first thing I've written and shared on Tumblr in literal YEARS, so go easy on me. And if you like it, tell me to post the other ones that may or may not be sitting in my folders.

Masterlist | Next Drabble

Your day has been nothing short of miserable. 

As if a broken water heater hadn’t been enough, the standstill traffic on your way to work and the blown tire just two blocks from the restaurant gave you pause. And then you’d been foolish enough to believe that maybe, at least, work would be tolerable for once. 

But it hadn’t been, and now you're alone in an empty restaurant with a room full of tables still yet to be cleaned. Your coworkers had been no help, piling onto your load with table after table, nevermind your lack of a break. And then they’d left, all citing important events that they needed to attend while you stood, glancing at your watch as it told you your shift should be ending in ten minutes. Keyword, should.

A flash of headlights from outside brightens the empty room, and with a sigh, you head toward the front door, unlocking the deadbolt as Frankie appears on the other side. He’d agreed to pick you up when you’d called him about your blown tire, and he was, of course, on time. 

You're willing yourself not to lose it entirely when you breathe in his familiar scent, but it only takes a second for his wide smile to fade into genuine concern. “What’s wrong?” 

Saying nothing, you turn and walk back into the dining room, gesturing to the tables still stacked high with dishes. “There’s more in the kitchen,” you sigh, eyes falling to the ground in front of you, trying to hide your frustrated tears. 

Slowly, he takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together and raises them to press a kiss to the back of your hand. “I’ll help.”

A laugh escapes you as you finally glance up at him, “You can’t.” 

Frankie’s eyebrows raise quickly, “and why not?” 

“For starters, you don’t work here. And you wouldn’t get paid. And it’s my job. You probably shouldn’t even be in here like this and you really can’t go in the kitchen and…” 

His grip on your hand tightens, causing you to stop your rambling. Without missing a beat, he counters your concerns with a plan. “How about you wash and I collect the dishes and bring them back to you? Then I can wipe down all the tables and rearrange everything out here while you finish up.” 

“Let me help you, Querida,” he continues when he notices you biting your lip, eyes flickering over the piles of work, and you feel him kiss your hand once more. You have to admit that his plan makes a lot of sense, and it would probably allow the two of you to be out of here long before you would if you did everything on your own. 

“Okay,” you agree after a long breath.

Frankie looks pleased, almost excited, and kisses your forehead quickly before rushing off in the direction of the nearest table. He picks up a stack of dishes and follows as you lead him toward the kitchen. Once you’ve shown him where to set things, you head toward the sink to begin the cleaning process. 

He appears every minute or so as he clears the dining room, stopping in between each trip to kiss you. Sometimes on your forehead, sometimes your shoulder or your nose. Whatever part of you he can reasonably reach, and with each passing moment you feel the weight of the day become a little lighter. A smile here and there, a laugh when he kisses you in the crook of your neck before rushing back into the dining room once more.

Methodically, you scrub away at the dirty plates, working as quickly as you can. Frankie is gone for a while, probably cleaning the tables, and soon the pile dwindles down to nothing.

Strong arms wind around your waist as you rinse off the plate in your hands, a warm chest at your back, and he presses a kiss to the side of your head. “Almost done?” 

You nod, pressing into him as you place the last dish on the rack. “Done.” You turn in his arms, and he doesn’t protest when your wet hands wind around his neck to bring him down for a proper kiss. It’s soft and warm, and you hum when you pull away to find Frankie smiling at you. “Thank you,” you whisper. 

“Anytime,” he returns, hugging you a bit tighter. “Now, are you ready to go home? Because I think I have the perfect remedy for your bad day.” 

His contagious smile finally transfers to your own face, “Is that so?”

Frankie nods eagerly, and you know the spark in his eyes well, so without another word you lace your fingers through his and tug him in the direction of the door. 

And later, when you’re laying in his arms, feeling sated and so very loved, your bad day is nothing more than a forgotten memory. 

Masterlist | Next Drabble

[blondiest]

NEALLO / BLONDIEST

WRITING MASTERPOST

ships i have written for:

hellcheer (eddie/chrissy from stranger things season 4)

meronia (mello/near from death note)

this blog is almost entirely SFW, but my writing, which i frequently share on here, does not always fall into that category. minors please do not interact with my mature or explicit fics! you can also find me @neallo

find below a list of fics i have posted, separated by fandom and completion status! (note: hellcheer fics not yet added to this list. also it's really out of date)

death note fanfiction

complete:

hot soup on a cold day

rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 5/5 | words: 15.6k | series [1/2]

“Roger,” Near says urgently, tapping the old man’s shoulder. “Roger, Mello needs another pillow.” Roger gives Near a questioning look, slight disapproval in his eyes “He’s not making me get him one,” Near clarifies. “Mello is asleep right now. He just doesn’t look comfortable, that’s all.” Roger looks like he’s about to protest, so Near adds— “And I have my mask, so I won’t get sick.” The headmaster sighs, pointing down the hallway towards the linen closet. Near retrieves the perfect pillow— not so old as to be sagging, but not so new as to be overly stiff. Once he props Mello’s head up better, gingerly moving the older boy’s head as he sleeps, he finds Roger again. “I think Mello’s room is too cold. Do you have a space heater I could use?” Roger massages his temples. “Ms. Peterson may have one in her classroom,” he replies / “Very well, I’ll ask her. Thank you, Roger.” The white-haired boy shuffles away, determined. He’s distantly aware that he's being a pest to Roger, but it's all in aid of a good cause. Mello is sick. Mello almost never gets sick, and Near is the expert on being sick, so Near is going to make sure Mello is as comfortable as possible.

hot tea on a cold night

rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 800 | series [2/2]

Mello is half-asleep when it happens. He’s half-asleep, and he thinks Near is totally asleep, but then the younger boy wriggles in his arms, burrowing closer under the covers, and murmurs: “I love you.”

Minutes to Midnight (collaboration with @empressofthewind)

[part 2 of Time Together]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 3/3 | words: 14.8k

This is the only issue Near has with letting Mello do all their debriefings: it’s easy for Near to stare, undetected and uninterrupted, for a long, long time. In New York, he mitigates this by spreading out on the floor and surrounding himself with toys or cards or dice. Whatever he needs to do to occupy himself. When they’ve travelled for cases before – which isn’t common by any stretch of the imagination – Near has relied on the movements and sounds of their colleagues to pull his attention away instead. The squeak of Rester’s chair, the tapping of Gevanni’s polished shoe, the sound of Lidner shuffling through papers. He uses whatever he can to keep his eyes off Mello. Out of sight, out of mind. Right now, he’s out of luck.

it’s you and me, that’s my whole world

[part 1 of together (always)]

rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.5k

Once she reaches the first floor and steps out of the elevator, Near hears a voice floating down the hall. It’s a woman’s voice, so it must be Lidner, but the pitch of it and the cadence of speech seems painfully similar to the way Mello talked, even without being able to hear the actual words. The closer she gets, the more it sounds like her dead lover, and Near curses how cruel her mind’s tricks are. She has to grit her teeth and breathe in deep to get herself to push through the door into the main office, feeling almost nauseous with grief again already. A blonde woman in a red winter jacket stands with her back to Near, but she turns when the toy in Near’s hand clatters to the ground. Mello’s eyes are tired, underlined by dark circles, but she grins. “Hey, Near.”

i know i’m gonna lose you (but god, i don’t want to)

[part 2 of together (always)]

rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.5k

Near’s bedroom— her tidy little suite in her untidy little makeshift headquarters in a high-rise hotel in Tokyo— is lit only by the shine of the city and the glow of the moon. Because the moon is full and because the city is bright, Mello can see her perfectly. Every little hair on her arms and legs catch the light as she sheds her soft, simple bra. The only thing Mello has taken off so far are her gloves. -- In which Mello rings in 2010 with some good old-fashioned lesbian sex and a minor emotional crisis. prequel to it's you and me, that's my whole world.

there's nothing i want but you

[part 1 of i want to hold you (hostage)]

rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.5k

Though Near doesn’t really mind Mello’s tendency towards jealousy, he also doesn’t understand it. There’s no one in the world Near wants the way he wants Mello, no one who matters the way Mello does— he’s everything to Near. There’s no reason for him to feel jealous of anyone else. Near doesn’t get jealous of anyone else. Until, one day, he does.

nothing hurts like you do

[part 2 of i want to hold you (hostage)]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.8k

Mello shoves him against the wall, his free hand moving from Near’s hair to the center of his chest as he holds the gun just inches from his forehead. He gives Near a once-over, quick, and at first Near thinks he hasn’t noticed anything amiss, but then an unkind smile unfurls on his face. “Hands up,” Mello says, grinning manically.

i want to hold you (hostage)

[part 3 of i want to hold you (hostage)]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 4/4 | words: 21.7k

Rico asks, casual, what Mello will want next, what he’ll aim for after he gets the notebook, and suddenly it’s like the ground has dropped out from underneath him, because the first thing that comes to mind is Near. His stomach sinks as he tries to regain some semblance of composure, fighting off imaginings both tender and cruel, furious with himself for being so weak-minded. Near, he thinks forcefully, is in the past. He isn’t an option for what’s to come— and even if he was, Mello wouldn’t want him. (He wouldn’t.) (He wouldn’t.) (God. He can’t even convince himself anymore.)

my only one, my smoking gun

[part 1 of our love is god]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 4/4 | words: 3.3k

For as long as he can recall, he’s ached over Near. It wasn’t always like this, though; he didn’t realize he wanted Near until it was too late to actually have him. He should be grateful, really, because he’s been able to linger here after death, and that’s more than he deserves, but God, Mello would give anything to kiss him just once.

heaven is a place on earth with you

[part 2 of our love is god]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.4k

There is no blood or body of Christ, no priest and no pews, but it’s here and now that Mello finally rediscovers a long-lost sliver of faith. Hands on Near’s hips, Mello lowers his face and presses his mouth to Near’s soft abdomen. “I love you,” he murmurs, head bowed and eyes shut as if in prayer.

replication in reverse

[part 3 of our love is god]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.4k

Mello mumbles something into his neck, something to the effect of waiting until Near is ready for him to move, but Near only halfway registers it. Golden hair tickles his nose, and he pictures mitosis— prophase, metaphase, anaphase, telophase— then imagines cytokinesis in reverse. Two cells pushed together until, somehow, their membranes connect, two phospholipid bilayers self-arranging into one continuous structure, cytoplasms mingling. He swallows thickly and longs for something impossible.

starry eyes sparking up my darkest nights

[part 1 of you got your eyes from the stars]

rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 930

Near has a nightmare on the flight back to New York after the end of the Kira case; Mello, still tipsy off of the red wine they served in first class, is unexpectedly tender.

fireworks somewhere far away

[part 2 of you got your eyes from the stars]

rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2k

It’s the fourth of July. Or, rather, it’s still the fourth of July in the United States, which is where they live, but they’re in Madrid at the moment, so technically where they are it’s the fifth. It’s not hard math to figure out what time it is back home— it’s a little before six in the morning here, so it’ll be a little before midnight in New York. Somewhere on the West Coast or in the Rocky Mountains, though, there are fireworks going off. That’s what Near is thinking when Mello kisses her for the first time.

engaged

rating: M | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.4k

“So, like, I suddenly realized… Near is into me. Like, Near wants me.” He pauses as if to allow this to sink in, looking at Matt like this is still a groundbreaking revelation the second time around when it in fact was not even groundbreaking the first. Near’s crush has been obvious to literally everyone but Mello for the past ten years. “Yes. This surprised you. And also me, because I definitely did not know that Near was into you before you told me fifteen minutes ago.” Mello nods, satisfied, entirely missing Matt’s sarcasm, which might be for the best. “So, naturally, I slept with him.” “Naturally,” Matt says. Mello does not miss the sarcasm this time. “If you’re just going to be a judgmental bitch the whole time, I’m not going to explain it again. You should be smart enough to remember what I fucking said the first time anyway.” “No, yeah, I actually think most well-adjusted people would sleep with their sworn enemies the moment they find out they’re into them.” Matt smiles tightly. “It wasn’t the moment I found out,” Mello says petulantly. “I waited like, four hours.”

it’s friday, i’m in love

rating: M | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.7k

Mello abandons a night out in favor of seeing (and holding and kissing and sleeping beside) Near.

early arrival

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.5k

It’s one in the morning and Near is wide awake, talking to Mello in hushed tones as the other passengers sleep soundly around them. According to the small screen on the back of the seat in front of him, they’re more than halfway through the flight, but it’s far from almost-over— it will be another three hours before they touch down in London.

Distraction (collaboration with @empressofthewind)

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.9k

The small pout Near offers in response would, under normal circumstances, result in the rapid undoing of Mello’s resolve. Worse still is that Near has begun writhing in his lap; not quite grinding on him, but shifting his weight in a way that’s troublesome nonetheless. Mello huffs. Near is fully aware of what he’s doing. He knows the effect he has on Mello. He’s teasing him. If that’s how this is going to be, then perhaps Mello will do a little teasing of his own.

wedding doves & leather gloves

rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1k

“Don’t tell me,” Near says, derisive tone tainted by her words wavering. “You want to hear that I’m yours.” Exquisite pain blossoms across her scalp as Mello yanks on her hair. “Don’t be a fucking brat,” Mello hisses. “Answer me. What are you, Near?” “I’m a detective,” she replies flatly. “Just like you are.”

unknown caller

rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.3k

“What are you wearing?” Near’s brow furrows in confusion. “What I always have worn.” “Mm. It’s summer, so— linen, right?” “Correct.” She wonders, then, if Mello asked the question to prompt Near to ask the same in return. Sometimes people do that. This is something she has learned since Mello left. “What are you wearing?” Near asks politely. “I am wearing,” Mello says, breathy, “black lace. It’s this— this fucking expensive set, you know— nice lingerie. I look good in it.” The description is extremely vague. Near does not know what nice lingerie looks like— she wears the same kind of cotton boyshort underwear every single day and a soft, thin bra. She also does not, honestly, know what Mello’s aim is in telling her this. It seems unlikely that she would call for the first time in five years to gloat about her finery, so there must be some kind of purpose to it, she just— “I’m touching myself,” Mello announces. Near drops the phone.

shot in the dark (collaboration with @empressofthewind)

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 8.2k

Mello’s posture changes, abrupt but liquid-smooth, shoulders squaring and spine straightening as he raises the gun until Near is staring down the barrel of it. Blood rushes in his ears, loud. Mello licks his lips. “Get up.”

something stronger than the drinks in the bar (matt/halle)

rating: M | category: F/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.3k

A former CIA agent and an exonerated felon walk into a hotel. There’s no punchline. They just fuck.

crying only because i’m happy

rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 575

In which Mello lovingly overwhelms her good girl.

there’s an ache in you put there by the ache in me

rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 975

The snow angels are, in all honesty, an excuse, a shameless attempt to get Near alone, to talk with him away from all these fucking people. He didn’t expect so many of their classmates to come back to Wammy’s for the holidays, but maybe he should have— after all, he hates this place, and yet here he is, half-drunk and dragging his ex-rival-turned-ex-something-else out into the cold.

three part harmony

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 2/2 | words: 6.1k

The thing is, whether Mello wants to admit it or not, there’s clearly chemistry between him and Near. It’s not like what he and Matt have with one another; it’s more intense. A little volatile, maybe. It used to be almost painful for Matt to watch, because it made him feel excluded, but he thinks that was probably more a product of his own insecurities than anything else. Now, though... well. Now it kind of turns him on. The first time he realized that, it startled him, because he wasn't just turned on by Mello being in his element, staring intently at Near as the two of them talked over the details of a new case. No. Something about how Near was looking at Mello, the gleam in his eye, the serious set of his jaw— Alright. Matt has a type, okay? He doesn't know why freaky little geniuses do it for him, they just do. Mello probably broke his brain when they lost their virginity to each other in L.A. five years back. It's not Matt’s fault.

untouched

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.5k

The storm is the only reason Near is here, and the only reason Mello let him in. That’s what Mello is trying to tell himself, anyway. — In which an old habit turns into something new.

good boy

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 5.3k

Mello’s stare is warm and constant, and the comforting exhilaration of it builds and builds within Near until he feels like he may burst. There is something he wants to say to Mello, but he doesn’t know what it is. Before he can ever say anything at all, though, Mello stands to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says. Before he goes, he gives Near two lists. One for the night. One for the next morning. Near always follows them to the letter. — In which Mello and Near form a dom-sub relationship centered entirely around shared meals and to-do lists.

works in progress:

there’s nothing i hate more than what i can’t have

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 6/7 | words: 21.6k

“Ah, good morning,” Near says, and solely from the look on his face Mello knows he is missing some key fucking information. “I thought maybe you had left.” Mello shakes his head. He’s somewhat distracted by the fact that he still can’t tell if Near is naked; he’s shirtless, though, and that’s already ten times more of Near’s skin than Mello has ever seen before. Or, it’s more than he can recall seeing, anyways. And now Mello can’t stop staring at his chest. It’s so stupid, because Near is thin and scrawny and all pasty but Mello cannot tear his eyes away anyways— “So—” Mello’s voice fucking cracks as he finally manages to start speaking, a clear sign that some higher power is out to get him. He presses onwards anyways. “So, last night was…” He trails off, not even sure how he wants to finish the sentence, or if he wants to finish it at all. Near brings a pale hand to his hair and idly twirls a strand “Surprising,” Near completes the thought before glancing away. “But… not entirely unpleasant.” — In which Mello wakes up in Near’s bed after a night out and arrives at a wildly incorrect conclusion regarding the events that landed him there.

bury us both

rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 11/14 | words: 20k

Mello is demonstrably capable of killing, and has perhaps more reason to want Near dead than anyone else on the face of the earth. They were once rivals, and Near knows a fragment of that resentment lingers even now. She is also likely the only person who could successfully bring Mello to justice, so her very existence is a threat to Mello’s, in a sense. If that weren’t enough, there is the fact that Mello could make a fortune, too, were she to kill Near. There are no shortage of people who would pay a handsome sum to see L’s head on a platter. And it would be so simple for her to do it, so easy. She’s had countless opportunities— the two of them alone, Near in all kinds of vulnerable positions, any number of potentially deadly weapons within reach— but she’s never taken one. Despite having every possible motive and every possible chance, Mello has not killed her. On more than one occasion, she’s even protected Near. This is how she knows Mello loves her in her way, even if she has not said it aloud. Even if it isn’t enough to make her stay. -- Mello and Near through the years, in love and in agony.

what doesn't kill me makes me want you more

rating: M | category: F/F | chapters: 3/? | words: 6.3k

“Poor Near,” Mello says, stepping closer and pulling Near’s head back further, tilting her face up as Mello cages her against the wall. “How long have you liked me?” Near’s heart is kicking against her ribcage so hard it almost hurts, and her ears are burning with embarrassment. She squeezes her eyes shut, unable to hold the blonde’s gaze. “Mello, I...” she tries to speak, hoarse. “Has it been months?” Mello asks, her voice getting closer as Near feels her lean down. She braves a glimpse through her lashes and watches as Mello bends her head to brush her cheek against Near’s, putting her lips next to Near’s ear. “Years, maybe?” The older girl teases. Near finds it in herself to squeak out a “yes,” and almost jumps at Mello’s sharp intake of breath. “Years,” Mello marvels.

all’s fair in love and war (and this is both)

rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 3/4 | words: 15.1k

Near has Mello under siege, dragging him into a battle of wits, strategy, and stealth, one that has him in a state of constant vigilance, ever-ready for an attack. With his dignity and his ego on the line, Mello throws himself head-first into psychological warfare against his longtime rival, trying any tactic he can to help him turn the tide in his favor. The game is as complex and mind-bending as four-dimensional chess, and Mello has to think twenty moves ahead just to keep up, but he’ll be damned before losing to Near at this. Or: Near accidentally gaslights Mello into being his boyfriend, and Mello does Olympic-level mental gymnastics in order to read Near’s actions as sinister.

an unusual proposal

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/? | words: 2k

“So,” Mello says. “What do you think?” Near scrutinizes his rival. Mello fidgets with the chain attached to his pants, seemingly anxious but still gravely serious. The proposal is… unconventional, to say the least, and logistically rather complicated— there are at least four-dozen things that could go wrong, and that’s just off the top of his head. It won’t be easy. His decision, though, is easy. He does not want Mello to die, and this, strange as it may be, seems like the best way to protect him. “Yes,” Near says. “I’ll do it.”

love chained

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/? | words: 4.7k

Against his will, his mind momentarily drifts to Near. He thinks about how Near gets chilled if he isn’t held close enough after he’s been fucked, and how perfectly his body fits against Mello’s own, how comfortable it is to curl around him. It never really bugs him that Near wants to be close after sex. There’s a sort of irresistibility to him, actually, that pulls Mello in— his skin damp and flushed, his breaths uneven, his limbs slack in the aftermath of his orgasm. Near smells kind of nice even when he’s all sweaty, and he makes this happy little sound when Mello’s face finds its way into the crook of his neck, and he’s so quiet and still when he falls asleep that it somehow soothes Mello into slumber, too. God damn it. At the end of the day, this is his problem. He shouldn’t have thoughts this fond about Near; it’s weird, and not at all casual, and if he lets it continue he’s going to completely wreck what they have.

faded to oblivion

rating: E | category: F/M | chapters: 2/? | words: 3.6k

When Near phoned and asked to see him, he had a few vague guesses as to what she might need from him. This was not on the list.

[mightbeorphanedidk]

uh that's with the pre-written notes so the actual chapter is 14,200

ANYWAYS

I JUST FINISHED THE FINAL CHAPTER! The ending is DFGFTRFDFV but I'm set to edit it tonight. Expect to come out either today, tomorrow, or the day after because it's midnight and im tired lol. I might release it on sunday, you know why? Because I released the first chapter on a sunday.

Er sentiment times (cringe sorry but i have to get it off my chest)

It has been a LONG. Ride. A 3 MONTH ENDEAVOUR?? Damn! I didn't think it'd ever be this big. With 1000 comments (i digress, i think like half of those are my own), 20,000 hits, and i think 800 kudos, THIS IS A PRETTY FUCKING BIG FIC. Like, this fic is so big, it's actually sort of insane. IT MADE IT ONTO TWITTER HELLO??? SOMEONE MENTIONED IT ON TWITTER??? BY THEMSELVES??? WITHOUT MY PRODDING FOR ADVERTISEMENT???

Originally I wrote the first chapter thinking it to be some normal shitty 25k fic that I could wrap up, but NO? ITS NOW OVER 100K WORDS??? AND YOU GUYS LIKE IT??? A LOT??? It's honestly so flattering. Like, I can tell you, if I went back to quarantine to my 2020 self and told her that I would produce something so big 2020 me would call me insane and continue writing MCYT FANFICTION.

I went from

To

and honestly, deny it all I want, I have im-PROVED. Definitely prouder of Plastered Smile than any of the other fics I've ever written.

Thank you all so much :) You have no idea what it means for me, to be finally able to share my stories and images with a crowd who will listen. I don't often get a lot of people to talk with about my work because they either pry too much or don't care at all. I've no doubt that in due time, if I hadn't made this ao3 account, I would have stopped writing, simply from the lack of motivation.

Afterall, to tell a story is to entertain, and if there is no crowd, whom is there to entertain?

I've met so many people online who have been just so fun and cool to talk to, and I remember them all vividly :D Thank you to those people I often converse with, it's so sweet ToT

I know it's kinda stupid to be dumping all this on a post that is a mere update on a chapter, but now that we're reaching the end, I really wanted to talk about it.

Also I wanted to mention that I drafted the ENTIRE story on a saturday at like 3am, fueled by determination and a dare coffee so shoutout to dare. All those action moments, character developments, those moments you all adored? ALL MADE BY MY 3AM SLEEP DEPRIVED BRAIN. You can thank me in 3 hours when it's 3am but i think i'll be asleep maybe idk

I think that's all I have to say. Bye :D

[blackboxtheater]

For that 40 questions thing, 4, 14, and 40 please?

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

There's nothing I'm nurturing right now in the sense that it would be a serious story I would ever publish. When I have an idea I tend to write it rather quickly so it doesn't drive me totally insane, which just gives me a lot of random scenes thrown together in a giant messy document lol. But there are some things for non-mcyt fandoms and some original work that are kicking around in my head.

But all that being said......I listen to a lot of actual play Dungeons and Dragons podcasts and I'm constantly fitting situations and characters from mcyt into D&D mechanics. So I keep coming back to that idea a lot. I even got pretty far into a loosely connected series of one-shots about a D&D party of hermits that I'll share the summary for.....

Xisuma, the chosen one of the Goddess Craft, is starting to wonder if there really is an epic quest. Because all he seems to be doing is collecting idiots who can destroy monsters as easily as they destroy his patience. That doesn’t mean he loves his party any less. And at least they saved the server from disaster. For now anyway. Until someone lights something on fire....again OR: A series of moments from the very long life of an adventurer and the people he meets along the way 

14. What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

It's less advice, and more the sense that a premise is a plot. And it's just......not.

A plot is a plot. Things need to happen in a story. (This is talking about longer stories, not one-shots or short fics.)

Like, do I love a good soulmates AU? Absolutely! But the idea that someone will have the first words their soulmate says to them written on their body is not a series of events that makes me want to keep reading to discover what happens next. Who are the soulmates? What are they doing? How does this condition affect them and their lives? Why does that matter? What happens in the story?

Another example of this, for anyone familiar with the Sarah J Mass books/universe, is the first Crescent City book "House of Earth and Blood". The premise is bringing this big interconnected fantasy universe into a modern urban setting, and that's a great fun premise! But the plot is a murder mystery. The actual thing the characters do for 800 freaking pages is solve a murder. 'Woman tries to solve her best friend's murder with a bad boy cop' is the plot of that novel.

40. Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one).

So I'm going to take this as an open ended ask for an alternative ending of any of my fics, but if you meant it differently, please let me know!

And y'all KNOW I am a staunch believer in talking about feelings.

But...... for funsies here is an alternate ending that diverges at chapter 12 of my gemtho fic We Were Shy where Pearl and BDubs are a little more proactive, inspired by the joke at the time that Gem was the boss of Decked Out level 4 and she would just be released into the dungeon to kill Etho.

----

Pearl's POV:

Pearl was waiting for Tango in the control room.

“Pearly pop? Why aren’t you running the dungeon?” He looked between her and the empty dungeon.

“Tango. We need your help.”

“We?”

“Yeah. We.” BDubs said. Pearl laughed at the extremely high pitched noise Tango made when he finally noticed BDubs standing behind him in the shadow of the door.  Pearl appreciated that she wasn’t the only one who could be a little sneaky when she wanted to be.

----

<You whispered to GeminiTay> gem want to kill Etho in the dungeon?

<GeminiTay whispered to you>  YES

<You whispered to GeminiTay>  no follow up questions?

<GeminiTay whispered to you> TIME AND PLACE

----

On one monitor, Pearl, Tango, and BDubs watched Etho climb into the minecart to start a Decked Out run that he had no indication would be out of the ordinary. On another, they watched Gem crouched and hiding on level 2, her hand twitching on the hilt of her diamond sword as she prepared to hunt Etho through the dungeon. Or at least, that's what Pearl had told her she would be doing.

They let Etho get most of the way through level 1, waiting until he commented on how strange it was that he hadn't seen any Ravager yet, before Pearl cleared her throat before she leaned into the microphone in Tango's control room.

“Attention Etho and Gem. Yes Etho, Gem is in the dungeon with you. Tango’s gonna, yup, stop any more cards from playing. Now Etho, you should know that Gem has a massive crush on you.”

“And Gem,” Bdubs poked his head close to the mic. “Etho has a crush on you. Super big crush. Embarrassingly really how big.”

Pearl giggled as Bdubs shot her a smile and stepped away from the mic.

“Now. You two can continue to avoid each other, or kill each other, or whatever it is you two do. That much I don’t really care. But figure it out.”

She smirked in spite of herself. Then she bowed out of the way for Tango to step up.

“And Etho, before you find a loophole, you both respawn at the bed in the top of the dungeon, I’ve removed all your gear from the chests, and the doors won’t open until two different players step on two different pressure plates in front of it. I’m sure you can find a way to sneak out, but not before Gem finds you.”

“And if you want to have fun we’re turning the cameras off!” Bdubs jumped up to add as a final comment.

“Bdubs don’t you dare-" echoed from Etho through the speakers before Tango flicked the lever to kill the video and audio feeds.

“You think it will work?” He asked, turning to Pearl.

“Honestly? I don’t know.”

“What if they crawl out of the dungeon walls? Bdubs suddenly asked. “I mean some of the crypts are just ice. Etho could absolutely punch through that rather than talk about his feelings.”

“You think he’d rather punch through a wall with his bear hands than get laid?” Pearl couldn’t fathom wanting to avoid a conversation that badly. Especially when they already did the hard part for them.

Tango shrugged. “He’s Etho. He might try.”

Then Tango giggled, the little laugh multiplying until his shoulders were shaking and he was whipping tears away from his eyes.  

“You okay man?” Bdubs finally asked, looking to Pearl for an explanation she clearly didn’t have.

“If they get out they have to escape level 5!” Tango wheezed.

“There’s another level?” Pearl nearly sputtered out. If the fucking door in level four led to a secret extra level she was going to lose her mind.

“No the redstone!” Tango finally said, gesturing widely around him with a spin. “Even if they get out of eh dungeon they don’t have elytra. They’d have to walk out of the redstone spaghetti. And I’m laughing imagining Gem chasing Etho through it.” Tango finally explained giddy smile on his face.

“I’m going to ping the rest of the hermits that the dungeon is closed.” Pearl said, opening the door to the control room and leading everyone out into the hall.

“Another question Tango,” Bdubs said, eyeing the door. “Do you have a washing machine in the dungeon?”

“Downstairs. I do actually live here you know.” Tango rolled his eyes at Bdubs. “But why.”

“Just maybe wash the sheets in the bed before anyone else runs. Just…”

Pearl watched Tango’s expression warp from confusion to realization to horror to embarrassment. “Yes. Yup. On the list. Good idea.”

<PearlescentMoon> dungeon’s closed for maintenance

<Cubfab135> :(

<GoodTimeWithScar>TANGO! Go fix your dungeon!

<Tango> like pearl said. CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE. DO NOT DISTURB.

<Etho> dungeon set to do not disturb mode

They all looked at Etho’s message at the same time as they stood on the bridge leading away from the Citadel.

“So do we think that’s a good thing?” Bdubs finally asked.

<GeminiTay> STRICTLY ENFORCED

Pearl raised an eyebrow at Gem's message.

“Maybe?”