#i'm so fucking stoked rn

[wilbur-e-184]

So I don't think I ever mentioned anything about the small (shitty) podcast that I've started with my friends.

We had an episode out but we wanted to redo it because it was just not the greatest and like 5 minutes long, plus we did it outside, so it was really just.. not great.

As of now, we've gotten an actual microphone (we were just using my phone) and a lot more new ideas.

Not gonna really spoil anything as of now since this whole thing is really really new but we're rebranding it with basically a whole new storyline.

This is all heavily based off of The Magnus Archives/Protocol and our imaginations. Was a plan for something to do over the summer without school, but the three months went by like nothing and we got so little done.

Right now, we're currently working on getting our new logo!

This is our old one.. oh my

But uh yeah I dunno I'm really excited and needed to get this out without spoiling too much to the people that have listened.

The only thing we have out rn is an update episode. (Idk about the trailer, I might've deleted it.)

Yippee!

[honks-n-stonks]

dontthinkmylastpostsentsoilljustsenditagain

KING GGG ARC OVER! It's MINDWAVE time....

[starscreamingg]

My surgeons telling my stoned ass where my boobs went

[suckishima]

rrrrrrrrr im so frustrated with my writing. its just been weeks of struggle and whyyyy. idk i think i need to rework or rethink what im going for with this one or something, its like i can feel the threads of the themes i wanna do are sooo close to tying together but it just isnt quite reaching yet and so it reads like a stilted bland mess but the more i stare at it the further away it feels aaah

i know it can get there i kNOW it can, the ending and like aha moment is so cleaaaar that i think its almost too solid and thats why my beginning feels so fucked—like i just keep asking myself 'well if hes gonna get there in chapter 5, whats stopping him from getting there now in chapter 2??' i tHOUGHT i had reasons but now that im there i just keep instinctually writing him to have the connecting/realization moment anyway and like. if that's how it is then what even IS the story??? i need a break

[shuastar]

ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴡɪɴᴇᴅ -- ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ .4 (JWW)

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴀʀᴄʜᴅᴜᴋᴇ!ᴡᴏɴᴡᴏᴏ x ᴀʀᴄʜᴅᴜᴄʜᴇꜱꜱ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴡᴄ: 10.2k (oops) warnings: cursing? hot wonwoo, obsessed wonwoo, a lot of tears (this entire thing is more of an angst than anything); y/n acts kind of annoyingly but its all for the plot i promise ᴀ/ɴ: i'm flying back and forth to and from korean rn bc i'm done w midterms rn!! sorry for the delay!! ALSO IM SO PROUD OF SEVENTEEN FOR WINNING 2 DAESANGS OMG; im also trying to go through requests at the same time so if i like dont answer for a while i promise im writing it!! just wait!! anyways, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ᴘʟꜱ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ <3

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ; ɴᴇxᴛ

Wonwoo

Wonwoo would not consider himself a greedy or jealous man.

No, of course not. Why would he be when he could have everything he wanted in the palm of his hands? When he was the Archduke? 

But the sight of her in the winter market roads, dressed too-thinly for the cold biting air of the evening pushes into his chest a stabbing sort of pain he cannot really place. And the sudden tension he feels from her presence, does nothing to ease the tsunami of emotions crashing into his chest. 

The festive winter market of the Capital. The common festive winter market of the Capital. Never had he ever thought of bumping into y/n in the streets of the Capital – without a guard, no less. Although, he thinks, Mingyu serves more than enough of a guard for tonight. He knows that his thoughts are too bitter – too bitter, considering everything she has said, everything she has gone through because of him. Yet, he cannot stop the bile rising in his throat and his fists clenching by his sides as he only watches from the side. 

The familiar, homey scents of warm cider and baked pies mingle with the cold evening air and sprinkles of snow fall around him, yet he can’t seem to pay attention to the stand owners who call for his attention.

He swallows as Y/n moves from the winter flower stall to a jewelry stall. He tries to ignore the way Mingyu laughs at her side, shoulder bumping hers and hand going up to pull her cloak over her head. He tries to ignore the unfamiliar flame of what seems to be anger, regret, or something in between, stoke the fires of his heart, as Y/n simply laughs. And it hurts. It hurts so much because she never laughed like that around him. At least, not since his return. 

He cannot even begin to put into words how gorgeous she looks under the yellow lantern lights and the blinkings of the market stalls. He has just barely enough capacity to recognize how the deep greens and golds of her dress blend in rather unassumingly with the commoners also walking the snowy road. How different she looks when she is far from the palace walls that seem to have always guarded her independent spirit. How joyous she looks when she stares at a piece of jewelry in her hands, fingers running over the blue sapphire in the middle. The gem hangs from the thin gold chain delicately and he can’t help but think how pretty she would look in it. 

He can’t hear the conversation, but he can see Mingyu lean down (curse him for his height), and also inspect the necklace that she is now holding up to his face. 

When Y/n tilts her head, a soft smile gracing her features, Wonwoo’s heart clenches. Almost painfully. Painfully because he recognizes that smile – the smile that used to be locked away only for him when they shared late night tea in his parlor, when he gifted you a diamond-encrusted bangle for your eighteenth birthday, when he danced with you for your debutante, when he went boating with you on a random Thursday afternoon.

Painful because now you are staring up at Mingyu with the same look, some kind of unspoken familiarity in your eyes that he seems to have missed because it sure as fuck wasn’t there when he had left.

At your head tilt, Mingyu leans forward and says something too quiet to catch. But it makes you laugh – loud, brilliant, clear-cut like the most expensive of diamonds. It catches the attention of the people around you and they smile too. And he would if not for the twisting feeling of a knife in his gut because your carefree laugh he only ever heard in the privacy of the night, days ago, flows so naturally when you are with Mingyu. 

What the fuck did he even say? 

It’s a bitter sort of rage. More directed towards himself than anything. But he pins the blame on the prince, opting for an easier way to divulge it fully. It’s easier that way – anger to yourself is easier to let out when directed another way. 

The knife’s presence exponentially sharpens and his throat feels weirdly scratchy when Mingyu gently touches your hand, taking the necklace out of your palm and placing into it a more extravagant piece. Your fingers brush. He can see it from where he is. And he can also see you look up at Mingyu in surprise at his sudden touch – no gloves, too. Were you worried about scandals with Mingyu? He wants to scoff at himself at being this ridiculous, but some shallow part of him wants to yell out your name and whisk you away. Away from Mingyu, away from the market, away from the Capital. To somewhere he can take a deep breath and just let you know. Let you know how much he-

“-Oh, I don’t know, Gyu,” you sigh. 

Wonwoo is surprised at how close his feet had led him to you. If he takes a couple more steps, he can reach out and brush your hair from your shoulders. 

Mingyu just smiles, canines biting down into his bottom lip. “What do you mean? It’s gorgeous. Matches your eyes ‘n everything, duchess.” He gives you a small little wink. It’s teasing, Wonwoo knows. It’s done in passing, which he also knows. But it stirs the pot of bubbling frustration (and jealousy) in his stomach like nothing had ever before. 

And it doesn’t simmer, especially when you just laugh at Mingyu’s words, leaning into his presence to roam your eyes around on other jewels. 

The only thing good to come out of that was your hand slowly letting the bracelet you were holding slip back onto the table. 

Good. It didn’t suit you anyways. 

You need something less flashy. More elegant and timeless. You are breathtaking enough.

He only watches, under the pretense of his hood and perusing through an antique stall, as Mingyu hands you another piece, fingers brushing. Again. 

Wonwoo grits his teeth. 

It’s something small – something that would have gone unnoticed by everyone else. But to him? To him, it feels mocking, almost patronizing and belittling. 

You could have been in his place, it almost says. You could have been the one brushing fingers, tossing an arm around her shoulders, teasing her, laughing with her, buying her jewelry in the Capital night market. Buying her anything she wished for.

Mingyu’s ease with you, the natural way you just take up the space next to him, grates on Wonwoo’s nerves to the last degree. 

Do you two even realize how you look to others? To him? 

Do you realize how his heart clenches at the scene of Mingyu repeatedly suggesting jewelry Wonwoo knows you don’t like, only for you to laugh off his sulking comments about how you and he just don’t have the same taste in exquisite things? 

Have you realized the meaning behind his flowers? His three words he had finally finalized in writing after countless sleepless nights’ worth of letters and love-essays? 

The urge to step forward claws at him – to insert himself, force himself, into the situation – to reclaim some part of your attention he is vying for. But he can’t. He can’t bring his feet to move from their place nor his eyes to move from how you just glance back at your original necklace you chose, studying its gem and masterful metal work. He can’t. Not here. And definitely not now. Still, the thought of walking away feels equally impossible, as if leaving would signify some sort of defeat. 

Wonwoo’s breath clouds the cold air, but he doesn’t notice. He has to force himself to take a step back – back and back and back until he has some reasonable amount of distance between you and Mingyu’s merry little party of two. His gloved hand raises to his chest and pressed hard, as if doing so would stop the chaotic, frantic beating of the muscle. His fingers curl into his coat and he desperately wants to hand you his jacket – wants to place the thick fur over your slightly shivering shoulders (something he tells himself Mingyu would not do, except he knows Mingyu would) – wants to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you close until your cheeks flush in embarrassment at the proximity. He wants to embrace you from behind, placing his chin on your shoulder as you ramble on about the kind of jewelry you like, without knowing that he already knows. He wants to kiss you dizzyingly under the soft snow and cut off your pure sort of laughter. He wants to make you smile and laugh and then smile again just because you were with him. He wants to buy you bouquets of flowers just because he thought of you and send them to your royal advisory meetings. He wants to do those things and more, yet he wills himself to keep composure. 

Not the time, he repeats to himself. Not the time.

She deserves her laughter, he tells himself, though the thought is bitter. Even if it’s not mine to share yet.

And although he wishes it would, the pain does not fade. It lingers in his chest cavity, raw and all-consuming, all-knowing, as he stands there, watching your joy seep into someone else’s laughter. And as Mingyu leans in even closer (terribly ungentleman-like, Wonwoo convinces himself), offering you yet another comment that coaxes yet another bubbly laugh, Wonwoo finally forces himself to turn away. 

He feels a tightness in his chest and a strange thudding in his heart as he stands there, fists clenching as he tries to forget. 

Forget the pain, forget the tears building up, forget what your absence turns him into. 

The crisp night air bites at Wonwoo’s cheeks as he and Soonyoung approach the royal mansion. He would have much rather preferred if Seungcheol had held the Charity Ball in the actual royal palace, but the king had decided to move the venue to a “less extravagant” area, which was only a street down from the palace. So Wonwoo wasn’t too sure what Seungcheol was trying to accomplish except to freeze his palace guests to death as they walked over to the mansion. 

As the tips of the open arched gates could be seen through the winter night’s haze, a warm glow upon the two of them, the mansion’s many windows spillions beacons of golden onto the welcoming courtyard, frozen over with snow. Already, there were many footprints that lined the fallen white carpet, melting the small ice flowers into water again. 

The manor’s golden warmth made the cold knot in his stomach twist further. Beside him, Soonyoung walks with an easy stride – seemingly unaffected by the wintry air or the tension Wonwoo knows he is radiating. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight” Soonyoung suddenly says, tone half-teasing, words hanging in the air for Wonwoo to jump and catch in his mouth. “Trying to strategize your grand entrance?”

Wonwoo doesn’t respond, focus already blurring at the edges. His fingers toy with the edges of his scarf.  

Soonyoung casts a sidelong glance at him. “You’re impossible,” he mumbles as he simply flashes his royal knight badge at the soldiers guarding the gate, strolling along. The white of the falling snow blends in nicely with his blonde head of hair. 

“Are you not looking forward to another night of forced smiles and silent judging on your part?” Soonyoung cracks a teasing grin, bumping Wonwoo’s shoulder. 

However, when Wonwoo stays silent, face shadowed as his gaze locks on the mansion, Soonyoung’s grin falters. 

“You okay?” A slant of worry in his voice does not escape Wonwoo and he feels almost guilty for worrying his closest friend. 

Wonwoo swallows, shaking his head as if that would wake him from his trance. “Yes. Yeah, I am. Why would I not be?” He forces a laugh from the confines of his tight throat. It sounds almost hysteric to his ears – as if he was on his last straw. Soonyoung knows, too.

Soonyoung’s eyebrows furrow as he places a firm hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder, stopping him in his place. He turns Wonwoo to face him. “Why? Is it because of her?” 

Wonwoo falters in his forced grin. Just barely. But it’s enough for Soonyoung to notice. 

“Ah,” Soonyoung sighs, clicking his tongue, “so I’m right.” Soonyoung smirks, eyes lighting up in interest but it drops when he realizes the tightness on Wonwoo’s face. “Why the-” he cuts himself off with a gasp. “Wait, please don’t tell me you did something stupid.” 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, lightly shoving Soonyoung away. “Shut up, man,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair. “If you don’t have anything useful to say, I’m going inside.” Wonwoo resumes his walk down the snow-ridden aisle, down the middle of the courtyard. 

Soonyoung groans. “Wonwoo!” His footsteps are light against the snow as he jogs to catch up with Wonwoo’s wide strides. “You did something, right? What did you do? Huh? What was it? You were literally with me for the entirety of last week!” Soonyoung whines, almost hanging off of Wonwoo’s arm, earning another eye roll from Wonwoo. “Was it bad? How did she react, huh? Why, it couldn’t have been that bad, right?” 

Soonyoung jabs his finger at Wonwoo’s ribs, repeating the same phrases over and over until they reach the entrance of the mansion, huge golden doors guarded by two valets. 

Wonwoo sighs, massaging his temple. “Will you shut up, please? It’s nothing, okay?” To the valet, he hands two pieces of papers, written on them the required name and title announcements of the night. 

Soonyoung stubbornly shakes his head. “You did something. What was it?” he presses as the valets swing open the doors. 

Wonwoo is quiet as his name, along with Soonyoung’s is read out loud for the entire mansion to hear. From his position at the front door, he can see how Seungcheol had turned the entire first parlor of the mansion into a ballroom of sorts. Near the end of the welcoming hall are the charity auction items – the blue sapphire jewelry set and the gold-set ruby diadem. At the call of his name, everyone stops, briefly, before staring up at the entrance balcony where he and Soonyoung are. 

“What was it?” Soonyoung hisses, jabbing an elbow at Wonwoo’s ribs. Wonwoo grits his teeth at the sharp pain, throwing a side-ways look at Soonyoung. 

“Jewelry,” Wonwoo grits out, pushing Soonyoung to start walking down the stairs into the chamber. 

Soonyoung gasps, as if Wonwoo had just said something more scandalous like lingerie or an estate. “When?”

“Last Friday.” 

“It’s been a week?”

“I suppose.”

Soonyoung scoffs in disbelief. “Unbelievable,” he murmurs, almost to himself. He clutches his chest in faux astonishment, eyes blown wider than necessary. “The great Archduke Jeon gifting jewelry – and flowers, I imagine – to a woman he claims doesn’t even-”

“-I don’t need your commentary, thank you very much,” Wonwoo interrupts, voice hard as he and Soonyoung reach, almost, the bottom of the staircase. His eyes scan the open chamber for a familiar face that almost taunts him like a dream. He can’t even control it. It’s natural, instinctive, almost. He needs to see her. He needs for his heart to stop thudding in his chest, just in case this time, she leaves him. Like he left her. 

From next to Wonwoo, Soonyoung lets out a rather loud sigh. “You’re impossible, you know that?” he mutters under his breath. “You send her gifts in secret, pine after her like a lost puppy, and then show up to events like this – which you don’t even like – expecting… What? That she’ll somehow tap into her telepathic reserves and read your desperate mind?” Soonyoung tuts, shaking his head, starting to part with Wonwoo. “Man up, Wonwoo, come on. If you want her that bad, do something.” 

Wonwoo says nothing, his jaw tightening painfully as his teeth grit against each other and his fingers fist at his sides. 

If Wonwoo had to see another fucking interaction between you and Mingyu that ended in laughter from your side, he was going to bust a vein. Most likely the one that was likely protruding from his neck. If he had to sit in the stupid fucking ballroom watching your gorgeous face scrunch up in delight at what someone else says to you, he was going to lose his shit. Here and now, no regrets.

Well, maybe a little regret. But mostly no regrets. 

His eyes trace your figure as you return back to your table, draped in a rich crimson cloth, occupied by a small group (that deep-down, he felt hurt not being invited into): Joshua’s wife, laughing and fan fluttering in animated conversation with Seungcheol, Joshua, who simply leans back in his chair, arm draped over the back of his wife’s chair, you, with your dazzling twinkle in your eyes and the way the light reflected – refracted – off of almost every part of you, and Mingyu. 

Mingyu makes him freeze. The prince leans in ever-so-slightly, a teasing smile dancing on the corners of his lips as he whispers something in your ear that makes you blush like a virgin, lightly slapping his upper arm in protest at his words. Wonwoo tries his best to not walk up and intervene because who was he to decide what you do with your life? He didn’t see you as a duty, thus he doesn’t need to intervene whenever someone is-

Mingyu leans back in his gold-draped chair, a casual arm thrown over the back of your. It’s not the act in itself that bothers Wonwoo (although it does), it’s the way Mingyu’s fingertips drum against your upper arm. Your bare upper arm. Your bare upper arm that should be clean of anyone’s touch (except for his). The prince reaches into his coat pocket, brandishing something akin to a box – neatly wrapped, twinkling under the low light. 

Wonwoo can’t really see your face from where he is – on the other side of the shorter hall, arms crossed, and leaning against a wall – but he can see that you tilt your head, a scrunch of your brows as you probably ask Mingyu what he was giving you. 

Mingyu shrugs, an easy grin on his face, and places the box in your hands, opening the top. Wonwoo sees your eyes widen in surprise, which makes Joshua, his wife, and even Seungcheol lean forward to see what it is that Mingyu had the audacity to give you. 

When you bring it out of the box, Wonwoo has to admit the quality of the gift. It’s a handkerchief, embroidered with amazing detail and an intricate floral pattern. He can make out your initials on the corner and the studded pearls that line the other corner in small mother-of-pearl flowers. 

For a while, you’re silent and Wonwoo thinks you’re going to shove it back in the box and place it back in Mingyu’s pocket. Because that’s what you would do – at least with him. 

But then your lips slowly curve up into a soft, genuine smile – the whites of your teeth poking out – and you launch out of your seat, arms suddenly thrown around Mingyu. And Wonwoo can see all of this unfold in absolute slow motion. It’s all in slow motion — from the way you jump up with a small clap to the way you bring Mingyu in a hug that’s so unlike you that even Joshua’s wife blinks in surprise at your sudden movement. 

Wonwoo can hear your delighted laughter and “Thank you!” even from where he is. Mingyu looks rather flustered at your sudden embrace but seems to brush it off with a quick laugh and a sheepish grin, mumbling something like “if I knew you would like handkerchiefs so much, I would’ve bought more, duchess.” 

God. Wonwoo’s nails presses painfully into his palms when Mingyu leans in again and steals another bout of laughter from your precious mouth. Wonwoo’s chest tightens at the sight. The sight of your joy, so free and unguarded, so genuine, should have been more beautiful. And it is. He thinks you’re the most beautiful person to ever walk this planet and any other – your warm eyes, your pouting lips, your blushed cheeks, your gorgeous peals of laughter, the way you blush under any of his heavy stares. But this time, looking on at you and Mingyu, it filled him with such a shredding visceral sense of loss. A sense of loss at the time he willingly gave up – what you could have been – what you are to him now – what he is to you – what he wants to desperately shout out for the entire world to hear. 

The undulations of the orchestra notes slowly faded out gradually as Mingyu stole more laughter from you. And Wonwoo barely even recognized Soonyoung standing next to him, a hand on his shoulder, saying something. But his voice sounds muted, almost like he’s underwater and she’s the only source of pure oxygen that he needs to inhale to live. All he can see is you. You, you, you, you, you. Just like always. Except this time, Mingyu’s next to you, elbowing you, bumping shoulders, brushing fingers, twirling your hair, gifting you handkerchiefs, for Christ’s sake.

And he suddenly finds himself pushing off the wall (and consequently Soonyoung’s arm and his concerned words of “Where the fuck are you going?”), and slowly walking over to the crimson table. He doesn’t notice the curious glances of the other guests as his growing presence becomes the source of whisperings between tables. All he can he is you. You, leaning towards Mingyu, the faintest of blushes barely visibly but fucking unmistakeable. You and red. Dark red as some carnal part of him – a desperate part of him drowning in jealousy – takes over, flashing warning signs across his brain. 

With every step he took closer to the two, the room seemed to shift around him – air growing heavier and thicker with tension. Before he could stop himself, Wonwoo was two steps away, jaw clenched, head slightly tilted down, arms crossed. The table instantly falls silent when Joshua looks up and blinks, almost surprised at Wonwoo’s intrusion. Seungcheol straightens in his chair, throwing a questioning mouthing of words at Wonwoo (that he completely misses), and Joshua’s wife darting a glance between himself and Mingyu. 

“Is this really necessary?” Wonwoo’s voice is low but it carries. Each word, though he means to not make it so, is clipped and sharp, precise knife points nicking parts of your plush skin. His stormy gaze flickers briefly to Mingyu before fixing on you. It’s easier like this. It feels like he can still reach out and know you’re there. He knows what he might look like – a man without a warrant. And technically, he doesn’t have one. He doesn’t have an extravagant excuse as to why he is suddenly intervening except for the fact that he felt jealous. 

The only thing that falters his confidence is the way your face almost immediately drops at his words. Instead, your expression is replaced with something he can’t quite place – surprise, deliberate coldness, and maybe something sharper. Slowly, you rise, your silk gown flowing down your form. He wants to tell you how beautiful you look tonight – how the sage green suits you exceedingly well, how the pearl-drop earrings blend in perfectly with your braided hair tonight – but he notices the necklace that sits in between your collarbones – it’s small, but it’s there. The necklace with the crafted jade and pearl flowers. The one you had periodically gone back to at the Night Market. The one he had, after not-so-deliberate thought, gone up and bought before the end of the night and slipped under your door along with a single tulip. 

“I am confused as to why any of this is your concern,” you say evenly, voice quiet but steady. 

Those words threaten to crack Wonwoo’s composure. He can feel his jaw tighten because he doesn’t know why it is his concern. “This-” he sighs, raking a hand through his hair. He tries his best to swallow down the tightness of his throat. “This act, this pretense with him-”

Your laugh cuts him off. It’s nothing like the one you give Mingyu. It’s sharper, more combined with a set of unshed tears. Wonwoo wants to punch himself. “Pretense?” You whisper, voice cutting through his words like they were made of the thinest grass. It is sharper than the cold air outside, more biting with unsaid disbelief. Your eyes narrow and he can so clearly see the anger simmering inside of them that it takes him off-guard. You take a step closer. His breath catches. 

“You are no one who should be talking about pretense, your grace,” you hiss. And Wonwoo tries desperately to keep his tormented eyes to rest on your eyes, but they flicker hesitantly to your lips, down to your necklace, and then back up to your eyes. “Is this-” you gesture vaguely to the entire group, “part of your duty too? Are you afraid of someone snatching up your convenient little wife before you can call it official?” Your voice slowly rises in pitch the more Wonwoo’s eyes wander. And he swears, it’s not on purpose, but he can’t bear to look at your glassy, tear-covered orbs because he knows then that he will break. He’ll break and bring you into a hug and start murmuring apologies for everything he’s ever done. 

“What is your-” you stop yourself and he knows immediately that you’ve seen his eyes flicker to your lips. You scoff. It’s loud, haunting, taunting. “Fucking look at me,” you snap, hands balling into small fists by your side. Wonwoo looks up into your eyes and it feels like a part of his heart shatters at the sight of your faint dark circles and redness of your eyes. “Your grace, I’ve said this once and I’ll say it only one more time,” you whisper, stepping just one more half-step closer to him. He can feel your dress flutter against his skin and your expensive Capital perfumery perfume waft towards him. “If duty is all you care about,” you choke out, and he can see the way your bottom lip trembles as you continue, “get the fuck out of my life.”

The words hit him squarely in his chest. He can feel his constructed walls tremble under the weight and restrained emotion of your words. 

He swallows down his own set of tears. It’s infuriating, really, having the one person you care about the most strike you down before you can even say anything. It’s frustrating when even he can’t decide to let you be or if he needs you – needs you the breathe, to sleep, to help the blood flow in his veins. 

Around you, the ballroom almost holds its breath. Of course, the dancers still twirled, the string ensemble still played on, but in the one meter radius of you, every table feels frozen, watching a scene unfold that no one dares to interrupt. 

“You still think you’re part of my-” Wonwoo starts, but the way you stare at him almost chokes him out of the rest of his words. He couldn’t even argue against the truth of what you said. On the probability that you had figured out the flowers and necklace were from him, it would have only worked against him in ways he had not properly thought out or even intended. He wishes he could just scream out the words. 

You take a shaky breath, expression almost forcefully hardening as you lift your chin. “Don’t question me, your grace, when you’ve made it crystal clear that your reputation and your title mean more to you than anything else.” He can hear the wavering undulations of your voice, but your resolve, whether forced or not, held firm. It held the entirety of your sentences together. “So yes. I’m going to keep up with whatever it is you think is pretense and you…” you trail off as your eyes rake up and down his body, finally landing on the crest of his duchy by his shoulder. You scoff, “should stick to what you think is best for your Archduchy.” 

Wonwoo feels almost wronged at your words. Is that really what you see him as? Did you really only see him as someone who would do something if it meant for a greater reward for his duchy? His heart thuds in his chest, except this time, it’s in dread. The sting of your words root him in place and the crowd blurs into a scene of motion and moving colors. 

“Then why do you wear the necklace?” he murmurs, more to himself than anything, but you hear him. 

Your hand flies to finger at your necklace, smoothening over the jade pieces. You look down. “A mistake on my part,” you whisper, voice shaking now. Your finger suddenly undo the clasp at the back and the necklace falls into your palm. The jade flowers sit there, like a dejected piece of artwork. Without any more words, you drop the necklace into his palm. The stones feel much heavier than when he bought them – as if they had absorbed some of the weight of your words. He looks up at you – mouth slightly open, eyes blown wide. He can’t even believe it. This feels as if you were finally ending everything. Because you knew the flowers, the jade, were from him. 

“Wait-” he hurries, fingers clenching over the jade. But before he can say anything else, you turn around and Mingyu stands. Wonwoo can only watch as you turn away from him, back straight and head held high, as you walk towards Mingyu, who rests a firm hand on your shoulder. 

“Perhaps, Archduke,” Mingyu says softly, though Wonwoo can hear – loud and clear – the unmistakable warning, “it would be best to just let her be.” 

Wonwoo’s fists clench at his sides. He has to be trembling from the pure forceful restraint he held all night now fraying exponentially at the edges. His gaze lingers on Mingyu’s hand, on the easy familiarity between you and him, on the jealousy that gnaws at his insides. 

Wonwoo can’t bear to speak. The faint scent of your perfume lingers in the air, almost like a cruel reminder of your presence even as you move further away from him. The orchestra swells with the tsunami of his emotion. The triumphant notes almost feel like mockery to the hollowness of his chest. The ballroom returns back to life but Wonwoo can’t seem to remove himself from his position, until he feels a warm hand on his shoulder. 

“Wonwoo.” Soonyoung. “Wonwoo, come on. You’re making a scene,” Soonyoung whispers, pulling his arm. 

Wonwoo stumbles after Soonyoung, feet not leading him in any way. He wants to scoff – to go back up to his room and cry. He had told himself that he could handle this – seeing you, being near you without tapping into any of the feelings he had tried so hard to suppress. But now, at your words, faced with the stunning reality of the depth of your scar, the realistic distance, of you being able to continue life without him, a tsunami of loss threatens to drown him. Because he can’t. He can’t live without you. Because he had underestimated, severely, the pain of it. 

And for the first time, being pulled out of the ballroom by Soonyoung, he wonders if he has lost you for good. If he has no chance anymore of pulling you close to him and kissing you under the starlight again. If he has no chance anymore of you returning his deep-rooted affections. 

y/n

It was kind of sad to see the royal gardens cloaked under both night and the snow. Your hands brush against the winter rose bushes as you walk along the path to the atrium, outfitted with a dying fire in a hearth and hot tea that steams under the wintry temperature. You smile softly at the memories flooding your mind of running through these very gardens when you were younger, laughing and tumbling with all your friends. Smiling during a time that seemed so carefree. 

You wish you could go back. You wish you could go back and experience the carefree again. You miss it. You miss being able to fall asleep at night without trouble, being able to wake up in the morning without cold sweat in a nightmare, being able to go about your day without the constant plaguing thought of him wandering the confines of your mind. 

A soft crunch of a branch startles you. You turn. 

The sight in front of you makes you stumble back in surprise. 

Wonwoo steps up to you hesitantly. It’s more so the expression – the emotions – clouded with something so raw it seems almost not humane in his eyes that stutter your breath in your lungs. Under the moonlight, way past the time both of you should be outside, he looks vulnerable. Much more vulnerable since the last time you saw him at that stupid charity ball two nights ago. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” you say. It’s quiet but it rings through the empty garden. You want to laugh at how much your voice lacks the conviction you wish it had. You fidget with your fingers as Wonwoo stares at you with an unfamiliar intensity. The rosiness of his cheeks make you wonder if he’s slightly tipsy. 

“I couldn’t stay away,” he rasps, voice a low murmur that carries to your ears, stabbing a long knife in your lung. 

You want to scoff but the deep tenor of his voice stops you from actually doing so. Your arms instead cross over your chest. “Why?” 

You’re not quite sure if you want to hear the reason, lest all of your walls come crumbling down, but you ask anyway. 

Wonwoo steps closer, movements slow as if to not spook you. “Because there are things I need to say – things I should have said years ago.” 

You swallow, head tilted up to look into his eyes. Behind his glasses, tears swim unidentified in his eyes. Rather late of you, you want to say. Instead, you opt on “Say them,” you whisper. “What is it?” 

His jaw tightens. You want to reach up and kiss his worries away. You do, really. For a second, it seems as though he is regretting ever bumping into you, but then he speaks, voice trembling with the weight of all of his emotions. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, hands reaching for yours. You give them up without hesitation – as if your body was acting on its own habitual wants. “I made a mistake. I left because I thought it was the right thing to do. Because I thought I could protect you by staying away – by returning to you with some sort of success.” He falters. “But I was wrong, y/n. I’ve been wrong about so many things.” 

You can feel the foundation of your walls shaking. 

No. No, stay with your resolve, y/n. 

You look away, lips pressing into a thin line. But you don’t pull your hands out of his caress. “You’ve said enough. I want to be with someone who doesn’t disappear the moment duty calls.” 

Wonwoo takes a sharp breath. You can almost feel the unspoken accusations swirl between you. 

“Is that really what you think of me?” Wonwoo's words sound almost bitter. “That I left without caring? That I would risk everything just to avoid you for the time being?” 

“What else am I supposed to think, Wonwoo?” You snap back, your voice rising. You wish desperately for him to leave. If you talk about this any longer, you were going to break. “You left without a word, without confidence in me, and then waltzed back into my life expecting everything to be as it was! But people don’t just fucking stand around waiting-” 

“-You have no idea what you’re saying, y/n.” Wonwoo’s voice is dangerously low now. He steps even closer and you finally register something in his hand. “Do you think I do all of this because it’s convenient? Because it’s an obligation?” he asks. It hurts to hear your words used against you. It hurts even more to hear the pure anger in his voice. 

“Isn’t it, though?” you whisper, stepping back defensively, hands slipping out of his hold. “Wonwoo,” you murmur looking down at your feet briefly, “ the only reason we’re even speaking is because of a scandal. We are simply solutions to each other’s inconvenient situations! What part of that do you not get?” You slam a hand on your own chest. Your breaths come out as puffs of white in the air. You can feel your tears welling up in your eyes. 

Wonwoo stares at you in disbelief, as if he can’t believe he’s hearing you right. His hands curl into fists. 

The next words he utters are low and full of just pure fury (at you or himself, you’re not too sure). His next words almost punch all the breath out of you.

“If you think I’d waste my fucking time, my life, on anyone I didn’t want – on anyone who didn’t mean everything to me – then you never even knew me at all.” 

His words hit you square in the face. It’s so vulnerable, the most emotional you’ve seen him, that it incites another spark in your chest. “But you’ve never been here, Wonwoo. You always leave! You’ve left once and you’ll keep on leaving.” Your own words are a desperate attempt to keep your walls up. You can feel your tears poke and prod and threaten to fall. You can hear your voice shake and your bottom lip tremble at your words. Actually, more of his words. You want to keep arguing. You want him to leave – leave you, leave the Capital, leave your life, but you desperately need him to stay – stay with you, stay in the Capital, stay in your life until you die. 

Wonwoo shakes his head as if he doesn’t agree with you. “You can call it duty all you want, y/n. But it doesn’t change my heart. It doesn't change what I feel towards you. You think I really wouldn’t have stayed if I could help it? You think I’d willingly let someone else have what I’ve always needed more than my next breath?” Wonwoo’s hand comes up to caress your cold cheek, thumb rubbing your cheekbone. 

“Don’t say that shit to me,” you whisper, glassy eyes gazing up at his. You can see the tears that are welling up near the corners of his eyes and if you didn’t have the last remaining thread of resolve left in you, you wouldn’t have kissed his tears away. 

Your shattered heart jackhammers in your chest as Wonwoo stares into what feels like your soul. It makes you feel bare – naked, almost. “Y/n,” he whispers, his voice breaking, “I came back for you.” 

You don’t make a move to leave his warmth, but you look up at him with your own air of defiance. There’s a confusing sort of wreath of emotions that circle your bruised heart, and the words escape you before you can stop them. “You’ve left before. And I would be a fool to not believe you’ll leave again.” 

Wonwoo’s hand stills on your face and he looks so pained for a moment that you wonder if continuing your facade is really a good idea. If it’s better to just give in. “I left to protect what matters, y/n, you have to understand,” he almost begs, desperate for you to just know, “To protect you.” 

You bite your cheek, a single tear falling from your eyes. It’s immediately rubbed away by Wonwoo’s thumb. “And what do you want me to do, Wonwoo?” you whisper, voice bordering on hysterics. “Wait around until you leave me? Again? Do you know the pain of your heart shattering when someone like that just up and leaves?” 

A few more tears fall from your eyes. You can’t even help it anymore. You feel the tightness of your lungs come back again. You can feel yourself start to choke up on your own tears. You can feel yourself start to break down – unwind completely under the softly falling snow. 

“No, no, no,” Wonwoo murmurs, cupping your face, brushing away all your tears. “Y/n please, I left because I had to. But now I’m here. I’m here, and I won’t leave,” he whispers, breath fanning over your lips. 

“I’m convenient, Wonwoo,” you suddenly cry, tears streaming down your face. “You need a partner, not me!” You want to look away, run away, but Wonwoo’s caress on your jaw holds you still. 

Wonwoo’s face contorts painfully with hurt. And you wonder if you have finally pushed him out. But then his jaw sets, like every time he is ready to argue in the royal court. Like every time he is ready to prove his point. “If I had wanted convenience, I’d have chosen anyone but you. This,” he gestured between you two, “is the furtherest thing from fucking easy.” 

You open your mouth, but you can’t find the words to express anything you’re feeling. The pain, the hurt, the resolve you are trying desperately to keep up. Wonwoo watches you with such sharp eyes it sends you into another spiral of being flustered. 

“I’m giving you my heart, y/n,” he murmurs. One look into his eyes tells you everything you need to know. “It’s terrifying – more than any battlefield I’ve seen,” he admits, “but for you? For you, I’d face any danger, any fear over and over again, even if it means standing in front of the love of my life, knowing you don’t believe me. Even if it means standing in front of the one person I would give up my life for, knowing she doesn’t want me like I want her.” 

Your eyes blow wide and a stuttered gasp of a breath feels punched out of your stomach. For a moment, it seems deathly quiet – even the winds seem to soften around you two. And then memories of the nights of your sobs, of your broken heart, scattered into the smallest of shards on the floor, taunt you like a haunted nightmare, circling over and over again.

“Maybe you should have given it to someone who wouldn’t have questioned it,” you whisper, placing a hand over his. “Do you think your proclaimed love is enough, Wonwoo, to erase my pain? My memories? That you can come here and confess and it’ll fix just about everything?” 

You know. You’re being overly critical. You’re being annoying, you’re being frustrating. You know he means every word he utters because he’s Jeon Wonwoo. If he didn’t mean it, he would have not even said it. But even you can’t help the words that flow out of you, fueled with bitterness and pettiness. 

“No,” he says softly, interlocking your hands together. You almost pull away. “I don’t even expect forgiveness, Y/n. Hell, I don’t even deserve it. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t fucking love you. Like I don’t want you by my side for every passing hour. That I don’t want-” his voice breaks and you flinch in surprise when a single tear rolls down his cheek. “That I don’t love you ‘till my last breath.” 

His words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating. 

You shake your head, pulling away from his reach, frantically brushing through your hair. “This is unfair, Wonwoo. You can’t just- just come back and say that you love me.” You sound desperate even to your own ears. You will for Wonwoo to stop there. Please. 

“It’s all I have, y/n,” he admits, voice cracking at your name. The way he utters your name, it carries such unrestrained emotion that it makes you shudder. “It’s all I’ve ever had.” 

Your knees give out, and you sink into your skirts, arms caging your body close to your legs. You rock yourself back and forth gently, eyes trained on the white snow beneath your feet. “What am I supposed to do with that?” You whisper, more to yourself than to him, but it catches Wonwoo’s ears. 

He kneels in the cold snow, brushing hair out of your face. “I’m willing to wait, y/n, you have to know. There is no one else. There never was and there never will be. And when you are ready to believe that – believe me – I’ll be here. Always. I’ll wait. Even if it takes fifty years. I’ll wait.” He tucks the strands of curled hair behind your ear, fingers lingering on your temple. Another hand rubs your shoulder. “And I’m sorry, y/n,” he continues. “I’m so sorry for leaving you by yourself for all those years. I really am.”

You can’t bear to look up because you can already feel two warm teardrops on the back of your hand that Wonwoo holds close to his face. Because you know that if you look up and see his desperate, dejected eyes, it’ll haunt you forever. Because if you look up and then match his expression to his vulnerable words, laced with such truth, you’ll break. 

“I don’t know if I can, Wonwoo,” you finally murmur. 

“That’s okay. I’ll wait,” he responds. His words are full of such conviction they almost reassure you. 

“Don’t say that.” 

“Y/n,” he laughs, tears falling down his face. “I’m not giving up on us.” 

“You should!” you sob, burying your face into your palms. “Wonwoo, just give up on us! Please!” You don’t mean it. Not even one bit. But you say it because you can’t live through him leaving again. Because if, in the chance that he does, leave again, you don’t think you can bear it. You know your heart won’t be able to bear the brunt force of it. 

Wonwoo shakes his head. You know he knows. Or at least can tell. “I can’t, y/n. Not when you mean so much to me. Not when it doesn’t feel like living when you’re not close to me – when you’re not next to me,” he replies. His voice is much calmer than yours and holds to it a sense of firmness in his decision, like nothing could convince him out of it. He pulls you up by your arms, holding you at arms-length, almost inspecting your face for something. Some emotion he may be losing in the heat of everything. 

“Wonwoo, please. Let me just forget,” you murmur, nails biting into your palms. 

Wonwoo shakes his head again, tilting your face up. He swallows. Your red eyes, swollen from tears, close briefly at his warm hand. “You know I can’t, y/n. You mean everything to me.” 

“You’re being selfish.” 

“Maybe. But you should be too.” 

“Wonwoo…” 

“Y/n, I’m not demanding an answer right now. I know the pain I’ve caused you. I know the-” Wonwoo stops suddenly when he sees you biting your lips, teeth clenching down hard on the flesh until you can feel a thin sheen of iron against your tongue. His brows furrow and his thumb gently pries your lip from your teeth, letting out a small sigh. “You don’t ever have to say anything. I just needed you to know. I need you to know how much I love you.” 

Wonwoo ends with a certain sort of flourish you remember from when he would conclude a debate in the National Academy, or when he would argue with his father. It was with a conviction that he knew the other person could not argue against. And you couldn’t. 

“Don’t do this to me,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes as if to stop the flow of tears. Your heart clenched and you could feel the cold start to seep in. 

Wonwoo’s eyes softened at your tears. You stare down at your feet as his hands work to unbuckle the fur cloak from his shoulders. In the next second, your body is engulfed in a familiar sort of warmth and the scent of a more familiar cologne. He adjusts the cloak around your shivering frame. Warm fingers brush your tears off your skin and your hair from your eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, angel.” 

Your breath hitches at the nickname. The nickname that took you three years to get over – to forget and partially forgive. The nickname that felt so wrong coming out of anyone else’s mouth. You look up, warm tears pooling in your eyes again. “Don’t call me that,” you whisper and you know he can hear the pure pain in your voice. “Don’t-” you hit his chest with your fist, though lightly, “fucking call me that,” you choke out. Your forehead rests on his chest, tears falling freely down your cheeks, chin, and onto the snow. You can feel the gentle pressure of Wonwoo’s chin on your head and the way his hesitant arms encircle your waist, pulling you closer to his embrace – pulling you closer to his comforting warmth. 

Wonwoo presses his lips together, inhaling a sharp breath. “I’m sorry, y/n, I really am. You don’t have to answer,” he confesses, more desperate this time. “I’ll wait. I’ll wait and wait until you’re ready for me, whenever that is. And if you accept only for one day, that’s okay too.” 

Wonwoo’s fingers fix the cloak around your shoulders and they falter when they brush gently against your empty neck. There is a pang of guilt when you realize it’s because of how you shove the necklace he had gifted you back into his hands on that night. But he doesn’t linger, opting to pull away.

“It’s all okay, y/n. It’s okay. And I’m sorry,” Wonwoo murmured one last time, before he pressed a fleeting kiss – gentle, warm, so him – against your forehead. Before he turns away and steps through the snow-covered walkway, back towards the warmth of the palace, leaving you with your own bubbling thoughts. 

There is a tightening sensation in your heart that travels along the arteries and veins and seeps into your lungs, then the rest of your chest, until you find yourself slumped on a bench, tears soaking your handkerchief and sobs echoing through the otherwise quiet garden. 

Approximately two days later, Joshua comes to visit you in your Capital estate, hands laden with gifts sent up from his wife who had gone down early to their country duchy. 

Your parlor is warm, lit by the steady glow and crackle of the fire that dances within the ornate hearth. Darkened drapes are tied back, letting the minimal winter sun seep into the room. A soft atmosphere of silence wraps itself around the room, broken only by the soft clinks of your cups as you and Joshua both sip on the tea laid out in the tea table in front of you. 

Joshua sits opposite you in a high-backed chair. His usual easy demeanor around you belies the sharpness of his attention. You can see it just from how his brows scrunch and his eyes dart from your face to your wringing hands in your lap. His coat is draped over the arm of his chair, leaving him only in a simple waistcoat. He cradles his own teacup with the same kind of quiet thoughtfulness that seems to define his entire being in times like this. 

The tension only grows as you slowly get more anxious at your senior’s silence and Joshua grows more wary of your wandering eyes – how your gaze flickers to the flames and then to the ceiling and then back to your hands, never truly focusing on anything. 

“Do you have anything to tell me?” Joshua asks, voice gentle but firm, how it’s always been with you. Sometimes, you wonder if he actually saw himself as more of your father than your older brother. 

You hesitate to respond. Should you tell him? No, you want to argue. But technically, if Joshua was already asking you if you had anything to tell him, that meant that he already knew something happened, or he already knew what happened and wanted to hear it from you. Either way, it leaves you with no choice but to answer him. 

“Why?” you choose to respond, setting your teacup down. 

Joshua shrugs, stirring his tea. “Just a hunch,” he hums. 

You’re quiet. And Joshua indulges in your voluntary silence. But only for a minute, as it has always been. Joshua Hong is only patient when he wants to be. 

“Y/n, what happened between you and Wonwoo?” he finally asks, ripping the coarsely-placed bandage off of your wound. He leans forward, elbows on his knees. 

You sigh, slumping down in your chair. Your hand pulls at your hair. “What didn’t happen,” you mutter. 

Joshua sighs, tapping your foot. “Not an answer. Come on, y/n. I need you to tell me so that I can help you or something.” 

You falter at his words. It was curious, really, how Joshua knew exactly the perfect time to come and visit you. How he knew exactly when you needed help. 

You finally give in. 

“He said he loves me,” you whisper. You cringe at your own words. They feel foreign leaving your own mouth, and maybe it’s because you haven’t even given yourself the time to wrap your own head around it. But in any sense, you say it. 

“So he finally confessed,” Joshua muses, as if he already knew your little tidbit. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did, really. He had a knack of finding things out before you could properly process what was happening. But it does annoy you, just a little bit. It’s the same thing, you guess, as Seungcheol asking you to weekly afternoon teas to see if everything in your life is okay. 

“If you put it that way,” you mutter, crossing your arms, eyes fluttering over to the window. 

There is a thick sheet of silence that lands heavy between you two as Joshua chooses not to respond. Instead, he sets his cup down on the small table between you with deliberate care. He studies you for a long moment and for a second, you think you have biscuit crumbs on your chin or something. 

“I feel like I can guess what you said to him,” Joshua finally says, leaning back on his chair. 

You nod hesitantly. “I just-” you sigh, sinking further into the chair, “-I don’t want to be the convenient choice so that he can fulfil his obligations. What if he doesn’t choose me if he had the option?” you ask quietly. An edge of bitterness and underlying hurt seeps into your tone even though you try to mask it. And you know Joshua picks up on it too. 

“If that’s what you believe,” Joshua says, voice low and deliberate it almost scares you, “then you don’t know him as well as you think.” 

You blink at his words. The certainty in his words – almost like he knows because he’s talked it over with the person in question – throws you off. It’s rather unlike Joshua to frequently give relationship or love advice, seeing as how his own marriage came to fruition. 

You’re about to retort when Joshua continues. 

“Wonwoo’s never taken the easy path,” he says, “Not once. Not in the National Academy, not in society, not in the knight corps, and definitely not when it comes to you. Actually, the man probably takes the hardest route whenever it comes to you.” His words hang in the air, laden with something akin to a heavy truth that makes your chest tighten. No tears though, which is good, considering the considerable amount of tears you’ve accumulated over the past couple of days. 

The glow of the firelight lends a warmth to Joshua’s face that contrasts with the intensity of his gaze. You want to desperately argue, to push back against the certainty of his words, but the sheer conviction in them, as well as Joshua’s rare sure relationship advice, has you basically grasping for words. 

“He’s struggling too, Y/n.” His words are quiet but firm enough to pierce the silence. 

You laugh, tears stuck in your throat. “Oh, I bet,” you mumble. 

“The weight of duty, of everything, it’s heavier on him that anyone else realizes,” Joshua hums, pausing for a bit when he sees your frown, “But you can-” 

Suddenly, the doors to your parlor swung open, followed by hurried half-yells of your estate staff asking the prince to “Please wait outside, your highness!” 

Both your and Joshua’s heads whip towards the sound, the tense atmosphere now conveniently broken. When you turn towards the oak doors of your parlor, Mingyu stands in the doorway, his wide frame taking up the entire doorway. He looks rushed, almost distressed – hair sticking out of his fur hat, cloak lopsided on his shoulders. 

Joshua opens his mouth to speak but Mingyu beats him to it. 

“Oh thank god you’re here,” he breathes, ripping his hat off of his head as he bends forward, hands on his knees as he tries to collect himself. 

You turn your wide eyes towards Joshua as if he can give you an answer. Joshua only shrugs, confusion marring the space between his eyes. 

“Your highness, what is this about?” Joshua asks, standing up as Mingyu makes his way over to the long couch, collapsing on top of it. 

Mingyu heaves in another breath. “He left,” he states. 

“What?” your voice is sharp with annoyance. Really, the men in this kingdom need to learn how to talk in full sentences. How is anyone supposed to understand who “he” is when the speaker doesn’t clarify it with any proper noun? “Speak properly, Mingyu.” 

Mingyu looks up from his position on the couch, arm thrown over his eyes. “Wonwoo, Y/n,” he sighs, turning over to face the back of the couch. “He was commissioned to the north. Again. He left at dawn yesterday, apparently.” 

Mingyu’s words are like a bath of cold water that is thrown on you. They crash over you like an unwanted gasp of air. It threatens to break you. You can’t breathe and you don’t know why. Your body suddenly feels like it isn’t yours. You feel like your lungs are caving in themselves and you can feel your heart punching at your ribs, threatening to break the bones. You clutch at your chair, gasping in inhales of oxygen like you are a fish out of water. Like you were some sort of broken machine that needed fuel. Like you had just heard a world-ending news. 

He was gone. 

“Left?” you croak out and a gasp of air follows, which clearly worries both Joshua and Mingyu because both men either stand up or sit up, heads whipping towards your weak voice. You don’t even realize that you’re crying until Mingyu’s eyes blow wide and he’s hurrying over, dabbing your tears off with his handkerchief. You want to push him away – let yourself mingle in with another set of tears – but the only thing that you can think is that his cologne is too strong compared to Wonwoo’s. The only thing that you can think of, while your eyes drift towards the open-curtained windows and watch the thick snow fall down from the dark skies, is that Wonwoo left. Again. Wonwoo left you again. And he’ll have to ride through the thick snow of the Capital and then ride again through the thicker snow of the countryside, and then fight in the thickest snow of the north. That he’ll face another battlefield – a battlefield you knew, from Soonyoung’s letters – that he hated with all his being. That he’ll most likely get injured while fighting for the king, for the kingdom, for you, apparently. That he might-

“Oh my god,” you breathe, shooting up and out of your seat with a speed that scares both Mingyu and Joshua, who are staring at you like you’re going through a life-changing crisis. “Oh my god!” you choke out, steadying yourself with your chair. The three words just fall from your lips like a mantra as you pace back and forth through your parlor, pulling at the ends of your hair and biting your lips. And through everything – Mingyu glancing over at Joshua and Joshua trying to get Nai to bring you some chamomile tea – the only thought in your head is the singular worry that gnaws and teeths at your entire soul: what if he dies? 

: ̗̀➛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴡɪɴᴇᴅ -- ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ @syluslittlecrows @gaslysainz @meowmeowminnie @luvjichang @peachytokki @nicoleparadas @haneulparadx @venuszaa @lilylikesthat @ppaia @ameliamirabela @tearsdntfall617

[olivianyx]

LEMME GIVE Y'ALL SOME DOPAMINE STOKE

⚠️ TW: SWEARING

Hey you, yes you. Wtf are you doing on here? Looking at 'how I manifested xyz instantly', 'I manifested my dream life entering the void' posts?? For what? So you can ask that person to affirm for you to get into the void? Or affirm for you to manifest your dream life?? BITCH, YOU BETTER BE JOKING. You don't stay true to yourself, you waver and slack, you're so desperate about entering the void but you ain't doing nothing to reprogram your subconscious. NAHH I'M GONNA BE STRAIGHT FORWARD RN. You lil brat, that's your reality. Only you have the power and control over and nobody else, SO GET THAT SHIT INTO YOUR BONEHEAD! ONLY YOU HAVE CONTROL OVER YOUR REALITY AND NO ONE ELSE! STOP TELLING OTHERS TO AFFIRM OR MANIFEST FOR YOU. DON'T FUCKING GIVE OTHERS FREE WILL. Idk who are you, what you do, what state you're in rn, blah blah blah. Tonight go fucking tell yourself that you already have what you want, you're God, you're a master manifester, you're the only one who has control over your reality, you're pure consciousness. You gotta stop slacking off. YOU WAVER AND STILL COME COMPLAIN LIKE A PRO. YOU STUPID ASS, GET YOUR ASS INTO AFFIRMING FOR THE NEXT 3 DAYS. I GUARANTEE YOU, YOU'LL SEE MOVEMENT. Get your ass into meditating so you'll have control over your thoughts. Stop thinking nonsense. STOP TELLING YOURSELF THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT YOU FUCKING WANT. FROM THIS MINUTE, I WANT YOU MF TO AFFIRM THAT YOU ALREADY HAVE WHAT YOU WANT. Thinking and affirming for 5 mins and then slacking off, and come complaining that you didn't get results. BRUHH JUST GIMME A BREAK. JUST FUCKING PICK 3 DAYS, KEEP AFFIRMING, DO WHAT MAKES YOU FEEL FULFILLED, REPROGRAM YOUR MIND, MEDITATE, COMMUNICATE WITH YOUR SUBCONSCIOUS, EAT WHAT YOU LIKE, PLAN THINGS, ORGANISE, TAKE A SHOWER, LOOK AT MIRROR TELL YOURSELF YOU'RE PRETTY/HANDSOME. CUS YOU ARE. Well that's all for today, take care luvs 💋

[shrimplymoray]

Hello!!! if its alright, could you perhaps do a sheriff(madcom)) x reader where reader is a flower girl and loves raising plants? THNANK YOU!!!!! ˃̵ᴗ˂̵

HIII thanks for the request, the Sheriff deserves more love, pathetic little meow meow of a guy ehehe! Also side note: i've been trying to start and failing because i have no idea if my idea makes sense, but i just said fuck it rn and am gonna pull what i think may work, if it is not very M:PN compliant, i'm sorry ;-;

The Sheriff x Flower Girl! Reader - Green Thumb

After long nights and days of work, The sheriff liked to take a drink by himself, and walk around the industrial district. Not to brag, but he has so far done a pretty decent job at keeping the scum outside and the ones that needed to be in, well, in. He liked to see himself as doing the dirty work so his old pal can deal with whatever the hell has been happening at the center of the Nexus City, and at the science tower. After one of these long days and nights, he grabbed a good old beer and walked around, appreciating the little bit of peace he managed to get after so long suffering being hunted for sport by those damned man. This walk, however, was cut shorter than expected, as something catched the old cowboy's attention. Something that for all reasons, shouldn't be existing. A little over run and beat up small building, tucked to a corner. nothing would drive one's attention for it, if it weren't for the small glimpses of a... Garden? Well, damn, that's as rare as it can get in Nevada. Although part of him screamed that this is the most suspicious thing that he could find, the way it seemed tended to drove him in. Slowly and cautiously (to not say cowardly) he walked near the little tucked in garden, which led to him going inside the building that for all means looked abandoned, specially compared to the other factories of the area. It was... a beautiful view, really. A flora long thought dead was clinging to every wall, and it took him a long second to hear the whistling, to which he put a hand on his holster, just in case. "Who's there?" It felt almost as if he was asking himself and not the person, to which a... lady, came and looked at him. "Ah! Sheriff, nice to see ya! Don't get visits often, specially in here, heh." "Er, Yeah sure doll. What's... all this about?" The lady looked around with a second of confusion before letting out a chuckle. "Oh this is my little Greenhouse. I know, the building is beat up but... the lights still work here, and it has just the right power to grow some pretty good stuff." "A Greenhouse, huh? Call me stoked, haven't seen one of these in ages..." In his moment of distraction, the woman got near him and took his hand on hers, both calloused but for greatly different reasons, it seems. "Want a Tour? I've been growing stuff in here since i got in the district, and i don't get much guests. That is, if you allow me, sir. You are the boss here, aren't ya?" Her voice was laced with teasing tone. It felt as if they've known each other for ages, good old friends just meeting again. The feeling of her hand on his, and the sheer happiness she showed over the place, it made something beat inside his chest, and his cheeks grow red, but by everything sacred, he was gonna blame the beer. "Welp, yer lucky i'm free right now, dollface. But i can only accept the tour if ya gimme the pleasure of taking ya for a drink later~?" Sadly for him, he didn't sound as smooth as he wanted, but that worked his way in the end. Luck has been getting on the ol' Sheriff's way, it seems.

I genuinely have NO IDEA how to write the Sheriff and also i am out of my head cuz of caffeine crash and my night meds, but i still hope this is somewhat enjoyable!

[bones-mccoy-turned-me-bi]

Ok so last night I had a dream about startrek, it started during amok time pretty much going the same way except, T'pring didn't do the challenge they got married.

Only remember bits and pieces during this point but Kirk is heartbroken, he's not letting Spock know (duh) which isn't a problem because Spock is oblivious about Kirk's feelings for him.

I forgot to mention that Spock does have feelings for him and didn't want to marry T'pring but he was convinced that Kirk doesn't love him,whilst also doing this whole "It's Vulcan way" so he decided to just do it.

Anyways he went through Pon Farr with T'pring and ended up getting her pregnant

This is another point where memory doesn't like me, but anyway they have a son (his name was changing like every half a second but ima call him Telek since that's one of the only ones I remember)

ANYWAYS this child just sorta exists in the back of Kirk's mind for like 2-3 years till T'pring's work (I forget what she does but it's like similar circumstances to her being on the enterprise in snw) lines up with the enterprise, and she brought Telek with her.

So they meet the kid

Kirk is trying so hard rn but it's like that's Spock's child with the wife he didn't know he had so he's struggling.

Mccoy likes the kid and is doing a way better job of being normal towards him and T'pring ( whilst also comforting Kirk which I thought was really cute )

Anyways another time jump

T'pring dies.

This isn't even that much later cause Telek looked like 4.

I have no idea how she dies but she did, Spock is hurt but not like extremely?

Like he did care about her but he never really loved her and when they spoke it was really just him asking about Telek.

Anyways Kirk is like kinda happy about this but also very mad that he is happy about this because Spock's wife died and that's horrible so he's like trying to comfort Spock but it's kinda awkward because Kirk hated T'pring and they both know he hates her.

Anyways Kirk is like well he's not married anymore maybe nows my chance and Mccoy is like "She just died dude at least give the guy some time to grieve "

So Kirk does but like only for a month or so

and he's back to trying to court Spock, but Spock is still oblivious and thinks Kirk is just still trying to comfort him so it's not working that well. At some point Kirk decides fuck it I'll just tell him.

So Kirk invites Spock over for chess and partway through like thier second game ( gotta give him some time to work up the nerve) Kirk blurts it out.

And like at first Spock doesn't react so Kirk's like freaking out like "omg I just ruined our entire friendship " " why did I say that" " holy shit he hates me now doesn't he?? " all the while Spock is like fucking buffering because the guy he's been in love with for years just admitted loving him since like the first day they met and like ????? Holy shit?????.

Anyways Kirk started like apologizing to Spock which kinda snaps him out of his little trance and Spock is now the one freaking out cause he took to long to answer so he kinda panics and just like

leans over the chess board and like fuckin kisses him.

Anyways they're together (they also find out they are T'hy'la and it's really sweet)

And at some point ( not that much later come on its Spock and Kirk and they've been in love for years ) they get married and it's very sweet and they are both Telek's dads now and stuff and Mccoy is doing his whole " took you two long enough Jesus " but he's secretly stoked and not hiding it well.

Um anyways this is about were I woke up.

Its the most coherent dream (am I saying that right? ) I've ever had

Idk if you wanna make a fic about it please do and post the link when you reblog it cause I'm not gonna find it otherwise 👍

[the-s1lly-corner]

Proxies with a fem reader going to a pumpkin patch so she can pick out her pumpkin? :>

Proxies and Fem!Reader going to a pumpkin patch!

obligatory toby is platonic but tbh i dont think romance ties too much into these specific hcs also i havent been to a pumpkin patch in years so im really scraping my brain trying to remeber what people do asides pick pumpkins...and google... a lot of google... i admit i had to fight myself not to make this a group thing where it's all together but im 80% sure you wanted these separate no unique gifs for each character, too eepy (its 6am rn and i couldnt sleep for the life of me SOBS)

Masky:

I feel like out of the three he's probably going to give the most resistance, he just doesn't like being around where loads of people may be; too much noise you know? But with enough coaxing and reassurance I do believe you can convince him to tag along

Most straight forward about it, wants it to be in and out, so he kinda beelines and tries to find a pair of pumpkins that'll do

"Babe... those ones are too small to carve..." "They're. Average."

Sorry I had to make that joke

Anyways

Out of all the activities there you might get him to sit down for a hayride if it's not too too packed!

Overall it's an okay experience, but really this guy would prefer the pumpkin carving at home after the fact; out on a porch sitting next to one another, alone in comfortable silence! He saves the seeds to make into snacks later

Hoodie:

A little more willing to go out! I feel like he's the easiest in terms of talking into stuff! As long as it's not anything dangerous he's more than willing to spend time with you.... all the better to keep his eye on you.. both in a cute aww he wants to protect you way and a creepy way but hey that's creepypasta for you

If they're offering shitty quickly constructed rides count him in, he's going to be the one dragging you!

While I'm not sure what rides would be there I'm sure there'd be but you're gonna be there for way longer than originally planned

Saving this for another day but Ferris Wheel trope where it gets stuck, one of y'all totally shouldn't send in a character for me to do that for wink wink nudge nudge

Probably the most emotive you see Hoodie, ever, it's actually a little jarring at first but it's cute in it's own way that he's getting all hyped up over some rides

overall? y'all forget to actually. pick pumpkins so you guys have to almost immediately return to go browse at the pumpkins that remain. Does the thing where you knock on produce to make sure it sounds right. Does he know what he's going or what he's looking for? No clue but hey there's that mental image, Hoodie kneeling down on the ground, head pressed against a pumpkin and tapping it

Ticci Toby:

Pretends to not wanna go but really he's totally fucking stoked that you wanna go somewhere with him, him? like him him? Toby? Well if you insist-

That bit sounded mean but I believe Toby feels.... I don't know how to put it but like I think it's because he used to be bullied and left out that he still gets a little surprised when you willingly invite him to hang out; not that he's complaining though

Haunted corn maze. This fucker beelines for the corn maze. You have lost your silly friend with an affinity for collecting empty snail shells (hc)

Good luck trying to find him, if it's one of those mazes with scare actors he's not going to flinch or scream so there goes your audio cue

Eventually you do find him though! So it's not totally disastrous! It just takes you upwards of fifteen minutes because you yourself got lost before looping back to the entrance, only to find this little shit sitting right by the entrance

Seriously how the fuck did he do that?

No clue

You know how sometimes pumpkins are bumpy or a lil... off looking? Leave it to this fucker to make several jokes about how they look, primarily ragging on the bumpier ones

"Hey look, it looks like you" "shut the fuck up"/j

Generally a very good time as long as you ignore the small heart attack you got when Toby disappeared! Good luck cleaning the mess after carving up your pumpkins

He probably tries to see what the guts taste like

idk what raw pumpkin guts taste like

not sure if its any good because ive only tried pre canned pumpkin puree and used it for baking so idk if it tastes good straight from the source

[lunargrrrl]

Hi!

It’s me from your LCM AO3 comments!

Thought I’d finally come here and say hi! Director!Agatha absolutely lives rent free in my gay little feral brain like as a filmmaker myself, I’d let her direct me any day if you know what I mean 😉

Idk if you’ve answered this before but what do you think would be Director!Agatha’s Letterboxd four faves be?

Anyway, absolutely ADORE EVERYTHING about the fic like you are cooking so hard rn and I am totally stoked for the next chapter!!

OHH hiii, bestie! 👋 I love this!! 💜

What an awesome question. Oh god, I'm a bit of a nerd with things like this and it got me thinking.

FYI: there may or may not be some very discreet foreshadowing for what's to come in LCM with some of these choices:

Mulholland Drive (dir. David Lynch): This is a personal favourite of mine, but I feel like it's that perfect mix of thriller/neo-noir film mixed with the sinister-Hollywood vibe that would be right up Agatha's alley. Also: I feel like she'd love it for those scenes with Betty & Rita/Diane & Camilla ("you drive me wild" 😵‍💫😵‍💫).

Rebecca (dir. Alfred Hitchcock): I feel like a big director like her would definitely have a Hitchcock movie in her top four faves. And the power dynamics/obsession in it?? Think it's that perfect psychological thriller that director!Agatha would love/be inspired by.

All About Eve (dir. Joseph L. Mankiewicz): can imagine director!Agatha loving the dynamic between Bette Davis' and Anne Baxter's characters in this. The manipulation, themes of womanhood and fame... and Eve was totally a lesbian, right??

Hocus Pocus (dir. Kenny Ortega): I feel like she'd have this one in there for the sheer irony. As a "fuck you" to everyone who gossips about her and nicknames her the "Wicked Witch of West Hollywood." That, and I think she'd be a huge Bette Midler fan. 😂

This was super fun, thank you, fellow film nerd!! 💜 Aaaaand now all I'm thinking about is writing in a scene where Agatha and our beloved reader are getting cozy in the cinema room of her mansion and watching one of these...

And thanks so much for loving LCM 😭 your comments always make me smile so hard!

[bella-rose29]

episode 2 commentary - Let Go of Me

major spoilers for show and books, swearing, me obsessing over lockwood's hands probably (edit: definitely, and George's)

why did I immediately think jellyfish

omg the flowers

Luce you really shouldn't have taken that

just like @demigoddess-of-ghosts said, why tf are deprac asking if there's anyone else there when Lucy is quite literally screaming 'lockwood'

"miss lockwood" and "lockwood's my partner" 🤭

"we called your mother" ok well her mother is a Bitch so that wasn't a good idea

"rest up until he's given you the all-clear" like fuck she's gonna do that

omg the flowers!!!

ooo spooky green lighting

omg the ghost lock victims ward 🥲

I would love to know what they were planning on doing with this scene actually bc I feel like it sets up some sort of ghost lock victim storyline for the future - maybe using them for science? idk I'd just love to know

oof lockwood's hands

just this whole scene of lockwood

hands

barnes is not fucking around lol

HANDS

HANDS

the way he sits back in the chair has me WEAK

THE JAW MOVEMENT

can you tell I'm going feral

George's lil run omg

George is so neurospicy I love it

George your posture needs sorting out my love 😭

"You're meant to say no, Lucy" well it's difficult to say no to lockwood when he looks at you with his beautiful eyes and smile and-

"I'd say like a house on fire" 😭

my poor baby looks so tired :( and he definitely needs a shower oh dear

I didn't think I would hear lockwood with his queen's English call someone 'mate'

I love that George just says straight up facts

"posh one who thinks he's god's gift" sounds about right

"his weird mate with zero social skills" also sounds about right

I love that they included the tapes for norrie bc actually it's a great way of adding to the narrative (bc we don't have any voice overs) and we get lucy's view on stuff

and we see her survivor's guilt too - "like how I should have helped you" omg 🥲 (excuse me while I go cry in a corner)

ruby stokes the woman you are

"no it doesn't, it looks like I cooked it in an active volcano" pfffft George I love you

"Andrew lockwood"

"girls are funny about baths" he's trying goddammit

HIS SMILE

"she's not unhinged" "you're hardly the best judge of these things" "you need normal people around you" "you really think you're normal?" your honour I love their friendship

"the world's mad, and normal never fixed anything" gonna make it my motto

"let me... sleep on it" BOY YOU DON'T EVER SLEEP

oh Luce

okay but these special effects are so fucking cool

hang on why the hell did Lucy go to sleep holding the ring

Jesus Christ that scared the shit out of me

ooo green lighting!!!

pfft goes to hold his hand to wake him up

HIS FACE WHEN HE WAKES UP OMG 😭😂

also: NECK and THE FACT HE SLEEPS WITHOUT A SHIRT

I love the disgruntlement of george

WHITE T-SHIRT LOCKWOOD

"trousers are for wimps" ICONIC

omg I love that we get to see George's Touch!!! also his hand??? brb gonna go melt

LOCKWOOD'S HANDS AND FOREARMS WITH THE CHAINS

FOREARMS

omg Georgie it's not a wasp I'm sorry

ARMS

I am dying how the hell did Ali manage to make his voice say "oh shit" like that

LOCKWOOD HAS A RAPIER I'm gonna faint

"I can't believe you stole a Source" GEORGE YOU ARE ONE TO TALK

yeah Luce call him out

"we need to destroy her source and move on. let her go" I have so much to say about this omgggg bc on the one hand the episode is called Let Go of Me and rn I'm 1/3 of the way through this episode and they've repeated those words in different ways so many times it's unreal. and then on the other hand (spoilers for the books) there's the way that Lockwood isn't doing this himself, because he hasn't destroyed the source in his house and let his own ghosts go 😭

omg George loves an experiment you can hear the joy in his voice

NOT THE WAY HE PHYSICALLY MOVES TO PROVE HE'S ON LUCY'S SIDE omg they're becoming friends even if they don't know it yet

ARMS

OH LORD THE HOODIE??? I wanna steal it

NOT THE WAY HE HANDS HER THE RING AND LETS HIS TOUCH LINGER AND LUCY DOES THE SAME OMGGGG

THEY LITERALLY JUST STROKE EACH OTHER'S HANDS I CAN'T TAKE THIS

his smile omg

ruby stokes the woman you are omg

lockwood's face omg he's so conflicted bc on the one hand he's worried but on the other he's trying to not say yes when she goes 'you love me don't you?'

lockwood immediately pushing her aside

HANDS

HANDS

lockwood you need to stop taking sole responsibility for things

the sadness in his voice when he says 'this place is all that's left of my parents' omg

"Jesus, lockwood, we're screwed!" yep (also the way George says it is so funny help)

HANDS AND RING

barnes isn't taking any shit omg

such an ominous phone call

George's prison outfit (I can't remember who called it that)

omg I want lucy's playsuit

PINK SOCKS

also lockwood get your shoes off the table you heathen

no bc I actually want her playsuit

HANDS

HANDS AND RING AAAAA

:3

HANDSSSSS

"not a braying gallery for bellends" George I love you

BOBBY!!!

Lucy going straight in with the hard facts I love her

omg the scoff

THE SIDE PROFILE OF LOCKWOOD IS KILLING ME

kipps is such an arse

THE STANCE HE TAKES WITH THE SPARE HAND AND UGH

AND YOU NEED A LADDER

the way he says "yes you do" has me in a chokehold

the sMIRK

"irrelevant prick" love it

when the mutual friend leaves and you're left with the one you don't get on with

George you might be a weirdo but I love you for it

Lucy getting the juicy gossip and immediately becoming besties with george

ok well your mum is a bitch

oh lockwood wtf are you doing

"he's a little shit sir"

lockwood why

he looks so proud of himself I can't help it

"you're our biggest asset" oh boy

the regret on his face oops

"my judgement's been a little off recently" yeah bc you just met the love of your life

ok but women with swords 👀 bonus points if they're angry

HANDS

pink socks again

barnes once again not taking shit

she is a child sir you can't just spring that on her

omg Lucy :((((((

"let me go" - is that another reference to the episode title I see?

"lockwood's a charlatan" pfft

DONT YOU TALK ABOUT MY LOCKWOOD LIKE THAT

"they always make the most boring, unimaginative moves possible, don't they" - it's giving Cameron saying that everything is basic

lockwood read the room (cab)

"You were brilliant" boy's in love

"can we talk about this in the car" *taxi drives away*

"you might be able to turn your feelings on and off like a tap, but I am drowning here, lockwood" 😭

"You know sometimes I just... I just think I'd be better off dead" oh Luce 😢

also lockwood's reaction to that omg he pauses for a while and is all glassy eyed and then: "I understand that"

never mind them I am drowning here (in my tears)

"We need you, and it's not because you're an asset" "why then?" "because... because you're..." *looks away and clenches jaw* "Lucy Carlyle" *smiles really widely (I feel like he was considering telling her his feelings)

"we can't let you go" ANOTHER REFERENCE TO THE EPISODE TITLE

"that's why I went on tv, silly" WHERE IS MY BUCKET??? I DONT KNOW WHY HIM SAYING 'SILLY' LIKE THAT PAIRED WITH HOW HE WALKS TOWARDS HER MEANS I NEED MY BUCKET BUT I HAD TO PAUSE THE EPISODE TO MELT A LITTLE

"We're lockwood and co. you, me, and George" FUCK YEAH YOU ARE

"please stay" 🥺 (anything for you my love)

"so you'd look cool" lol

greeeeeeen

"you're more of a liability than an asset, Lucy" HE SAYS WHILE LOOKING AT HER WITH HEART EYES

oh Georgie

OMG HE HAS A PLATE OF BISCUITS AND A TINY GLASS OF MILK

GEORGIEEEE NO DONT YOU HURT MY BOY

green lighting!!!

"I'll take him" says boy with immense confidence

"can I offer you a cup of tea while you ransack my house? one lump or two" *throws torch and misses*

HNNNNNNNN THE NOISE I MADE WHEN HE DOES THE RAPIER THINGY AND GETS INTO HIS STANCE AND TWIRLS THE RAPIER AND PUTS HIS HAND UP

AND THEN WHEN HE DODGES THE TORCH??????? SIR WHO GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO BE THAT FINE DODGING A FUCKING TORCH?????

oh my god the still I paused it on to write the above comment is gonna make me pee myself with laughter 😭😂 I wish I could screenshot to show everyone

ooo I might be completely delusional but Lucy smashes the mirror with her elbow in this scene (and the camera pauses on it for a good couple of seconds) and then plays a part in smashing the bone glass later on??? am I delusional or am I making connections???

Georgie omg

LUCY PICKING UP HIS GLASSES!!! I love this omg I would be lost without mine

HEHEHE STAB THAT INTRUDER

fuck me that neck crack was hot (also could lockwood fuck me please?)

green lighting!!!

also how did I never notice the stairs were spirally?

George you are so funny and I love you

I AM SORRY. WHAT. EVERYONE GO WATCH THIS FIGHT SCENE AND STUDY THE WAY LOCKWOOD FIGHTS/MOVES THE RAPIER IN HIS HAND BECAUSE- I need my bucket holy shit

George hauling those chains around like it's nothing 👀

green lighting!!!

yeah you better run bitch

"we should have people round more often" lolllllll

lockwood can kick me-

"why are you making that face?"

"that's not your normal face, that's your 'I know something you don't' face"

sweaty lockwood

George's face when she pulls the ring out is so funny to me 😂

"you lunatic" *lockwood grinning widely* I love their reactions

aww let Georgie swear :(

[shannonsketches]

I'm just ranting about DBS' anime under the cut again don't mind me I'm having a Time

I was so confused about why Goku Black/Zamas is such a popular skin in Fortnite and then I learned that Toei once again missed the whole point of that arc. Both of them. One is Vegeta being inescapably confronted with how loved he is and how much he loves his family, which we knew Toei was never going to allow, but my god, Zamas??

The point of Zamas is that he's a wildly privileged chronically online 4chan fascist deciding an entire way of life which he does not participate in, has a surface-level understanding of, and is not personally affected by, is morally disgusting. Like, that's it that's his whole character. He's a young god with every possible comfort deciding that anything that is not like him is immoral and should not exist.

It has nothing to do with Trunks or anyone, it's solely because he's a shitty little Light Yagami kinnie in his extremely sheltered bubble of (perceived, not lived) experience. Dude is intolerable in the manga, and that's the point. His justice is not justice. His reasoning is outright fascism.

But they also missed the point of Trunks being Alone in the future (save for Mai) and Bulma not being there at all (her murder and subsequent absence in the future timeline is a vital component of the arc's emotional weight for Vegeta and Trunks, in fact, which of course they made about Goku instead :))) y'all really work so hard to pretend goku has any kind of social heirarchy and that scenario wouldn't play exactly the same way with anyone goku loved, but it's too late! we have the freeza saga on your own show to show you he would)

There's no militia, there's no resistance, there's no Help. Trunks is isolated and out of options, his Time Machine only has enough fuel for one trip and he has to take it without Mai. He didn't leave anyone behind, he thinks she's dead. He got out because he thought it was the only thing he could do. He didn't try to bring Goku and Vegeta back, he didn't think there would be a back. He was just keeping his promise to Live, for his mom.

Trunks has no one else in his Timeline. Just him and Mai against Zamas, who has murdered Bulma while she went out to do routine maintenance on their power supply. And Zamas isn't even actively trying to kill Trunks until that point. He's purposefully keeping him alive as a way to make himself stronger. He doesn't hop a ring and go to the AU. He's chillin at his cabin. He's enjoying the cat and mouse game, and is stoked when Goku and Vegeta show up for the same reason. Zamas is abusive and corrosive and DEEPLY self-obsessed (as most fascists are), he panics whenever he starts losing (as most supremacists do), and blames everyone but himself for his situation (as many extreme narcissists do).

And of course this arc wouldn't be complete without Toei's classic 'take everything that was about Vegeta and give it to Literally Anyone Else, just throw him under the bus and completely rewrite how his only time referring to himself as the prince of all saiyans was to goad and distract GB while Trunks healed Goku because Vegeta told him to heal Goku instead of himself for their best chance at winning,, Trunks has to ask Vegeta to go with him to fight Zamas?? Vegeta was like "I'm gonna beat this man to death" the second he found out he killed Bulma lmao be so fr rn!! so this can be about how Goku is morally righteous and a very normal person' but it's fine it's whatever why would I be mad that Vegeta and Trunks aren't doing the intense emotional bonding that losing Bulma would force them to do when we can have (checks notes) Yajirobe be a part of things, for some reason

like i don't--

And Toei just. Nah. We're gonna focus on his power ups and his being mean to Goku, Specifically, is what makes him a bad bad man. "His power is unstable he has complex emotions-"

No he doesn't.

No he absolutely does the fuck not.

He wants every mortal to die and he's having a breakdown that three mortals are standing in his shitty little way. That's it. Very simple emotions. He's behaving like a spoiled brat because he is one.

bruh they even changed it to Vegeta taking an unconscious Goku back to the Present, I'm aksjdkaj

That was fully Vegeta, who snapped at Goku for leaving Trunks behind. (And again, Bulma just??? Being mad at Everyone?? And going to the future?? When in the manga she's running support on the home front?? and then talking up Goku and Vegeta getting mad, despite Vegeta also being like 'i want this mf dead in my hands but Kakarot's our best shot' in the manga?? Adding to his whole motivation in Super of wanting to be strong enough to Not Have to Rely on Goku to protect his family, since his whole thing is consistently not being enough to beat the bbeg? And wtf Little Trunks being super jealous over tiny Mai even though that ALSO is not a thing? He's just "Tiny Boy Laments because his de-aged 42yo Crush has a crush on a 30yo Version of Him after showing No interest in child him because he is, in fact, A Child")

And then had it be Bulma, Trunks, and Mai's fault the seal didn't work when Goku did the ma-fu-ba and accidentally brought one of Roshi's Girlbar coupons instead of the seal?? God Toei's team is really allergic to anything being Goku's fault. Don't think I didn't see you skip over the part where Buu failed his written exam and Goku only barely passed with a 50% and then got mad at Vegeta for suggesting a written exam.

god everything I learn about the anime is the worst thing I've ever learned about the anime aksldjsal

First deciding that ALL of the Z-Fighters, including Gohan and Piccolo, would get their asses collectively beat by Ginyu, who has been a frog for a decade (a frog which was used for the sole purpose of him not being able to switch out of that body, mind), because apparently being a frog is way harder than idk fighting cell and majin buu and beerus, and despite the strongest guy in Freeza's army being Roughly as strong as Cell was, but okay -- just so they could rewrite Gohan's baller action scene of kicking ass and saving Piccolo into Picowo Dead Pls Daddy Save Me I'm Not Stwong Enough Despite Toei Deciding Piccolo Died in Front of Me and My Whole Thing is Rage-Induced Beating Everyone's Ass Syndrome U_U,

but also that Goku Black is doing this because ... Trunks? Upset the timelines? And that, of all the thousands of years of fuckery and 5+ rings from others doing the same shit and having watched a tournament in which one guy's whole thing is altering time, is what we're gonna use to try and drag out this fight and validate Zamas?

And then giving Kale lipstick and making her transformation about a Man? And not about Caulifa getting beat to shit by Freeza to have Kale go 'I thought you'd hate me if you found out I was strong' and Caulifa go 'yo that was fucking rad are you kidding me shine on you crazy diamond'??? Toei that shit was already Highly Lesbeans you didn't need to make it fucking weird and centered around Cabbe and Goku??? FUCKS sake, my man.

I remain so glad Toriyama took Daima away from those writers holy shit lmao Just rehauled the entire thing

and you know what even if I hate it I know it'll be better than whatever the fuck Super's writer's room was on in 2018.

[orengesz]

😭 Vamos, Sainz. What a fantastic performance for a team home race, I know it's not GP, but I can't wait to see the mans leading in red tomorrow

Catch me crying in the club so hard I feel like I'm choking. I'm on edge, sleep deprived and my emotions are so heightened rn.

They need this. The deserve it.

If ferrari fuck up any of their pit stops I will not hesitate - these hands will be flying.

Ngl, max looks fucking stoked to be stood next to two gods. As he fucking should.

Now if only he could, idk, maybe have a little tyre issue... Or slide off through the gravel.... Idk, just maybe. Throwing a few suggestions out there because we all know what p1 outcome is going to be 🙄

Bestie, ily2, but your man is an undefeatable unit and he needs to fuck off for this race. He could sit out literally every race for this season and still win. Although, 10 consecutive race wins record does sound kinda tasty 🤔😌

[ex0rin]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @hiddenxplaces-blog & @the-ravening 😘

How many works do you have on ao3? at the moment? 192

What's your total ao3 word count? 668,102

What fandoms do you write for? currently it's all The Walking Dead all the time but in recent memory we're looking at The Boys (AND The Boys RPF 😅) and MCU (winterbones specifically)

Top five fics by kudos: stoking at the fire for you (The Witcher) sing them songs of me (The Witcher, geraskier) just one more (The Witcher, geraskier) steady, steady (The Witcher, geraskier) unexpected, not unwelcome (TFATWS, winterbaron)

Do you respond to comments? i swear I SWEAR i try 🙃 (i'm so good at catching up and then Febuwhump happens and i fall behind trying to stay on top of the monthly challenge AND THEN by like November i've caught up again) (also i have the TERRIBLE tendency to stop responding once i'm out of a fandom BUT I SWEAR i read them all and sob quietly to myself on days where things are exhausting so please take this as a huge I LOVE YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH ❤️)

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? brb hitting the hurt no comfort tag and figuring out what the 'worst' one was… you know what, it was we'll be a fine line (Top Gun, roosmav) - still one of my fave fics tbh, it covers the time between the first movie and where we pick up with Rooster being PISSED at Mav for pulling his papers

OR hell, if i ever could stomach to edit it, i think elbow deep (The Walking Dead, cegan) would count for this - it's almost finished i swear, just need to walk away from it after every paragraph rn

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? for who? i'd say 'till the end of the line where Bucky finally leaves Steve because they're just incompatible after all that time and trauma

Do you get hate on fics? i've gotten a bit but that's just the nature of writing non-con and/ or hurt no comfort 😅

Do you write smut? do i write anything else is the actual question haha

Craziest crossover: i… i don't crossover unless you count RPF where the actors are playing their characters to bang (i assume this doesn't count but it's as close as i get)

Have you ever had a fic stolen? yep! hilariously it was my Watcher Entertainment RPF stuff

Have you ever had a fic translated? maybe? i'm honestly not sure

Have you ever co-written a fic before? i have! a few times! honourable mentions are hold you by the edges (Watcher, limadej) with @sequencefairy (which i still reread often tbh) and keep on keepin' on (Gotham, harvey/jim) with @ponderosa121 (also a SOLID reread)

All time favorite ship? this is unfair - it absolutely depends on the brainrot at any give time. if you're asking me RIGHT NOW it's cegan, no question but like…. three months ago? who knows

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? too many to count - there's a few i think about occasionally as like a nice memory of things that could have been but the thing I WISH i would get to finish is my RP with @sparklingbinjuice which i still hope we fall back into sometimes (but both of our attention is elsewhere at the moment)

What are your writing strengths? smut and run-on sentences 😂

What are your writing weaknesses? plot and punctuation (who needs a period when you have ; and -)

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? i used to be like FUCK IT WE SPEAK RUSSIAN but i cringe when i look back on those times (and have flashbacks to writing Japanese into Gundam Wing fic in highschool) which is to say, to each their own but if i can't speak it fluently or have a friend who does who can edit, i try not to include it in my own work

First fandom you wrote in? technically it was a sweet little Luke/OC insert from Star Wars circa, ohhhhh uh, early 90s but the first fandom i fell into a spiral about is going to be Gundam Wing FOR SURE (gimme that 1x5 please and thank you, strawberries are so sweet you know?)

Favorite fic you've written? this is also unfair - it's the unnamed one in my head that i rant to Abby about while i'm drunk at 4am thanks

zero pressure tagging: @sparklingbinjuice @duchessonfire @dcmonblood @unlikelymilliner (miss you ❤️) @sequencefairy

[vladdyissues]

Hi, it’s me, the asker who was so curious about Danny at school ✨

I got three things to say, silly thing first, 1. I’m so curious about what Danny’s diet is gonna be. I was rereading that chapter, and if Vlad has to eat meat to stoke the flames, does that mean Danny has to go vegetarian? That would be so fucking funny, I’m ngl 😂 but also sad, bc then he’d be thinking about Sam all the time 🥺 anyways, I’m just interested to see what you do with it 👀

2. You got me thinking about enemies to lovers, hardcore. And I realized, when I enjoy that kind of ship, I’m not here to see them become all lovey-dovey and domestic. I’m here to see the pain, and the toxicity, and the deep codependency of it all. The ‘I hate you, but I can’t leave you’, and the ‘you might kill me one day, and I embrace that.’ If you’ve watched Hannibal, you know exactly what I mean 😂 For Vlad and Danny, I don’t really give a fuck if it’s pompep or badgercereal, i just want angst and codependency 😈 I think that’s part of what I like about your story so much, is that it’s toeing the line between the two relationships. Halfway parental, and halfway toxic/romantic love.

3. You’ve fucking ruined me for other fanfiction rn 😭😂 I can’t read anything else for more than five minutes 🥲 Partially bc I’m so invested in the story, but also bc your writing style IS SO FUCKING GOOD. YOU SHOULD BE WRITING ACTUAL BOOKS, LIKE WTF. Anywayyysss, I’ll just curl up into a little ball of boredom on the floor till you update again 😂💕

Sending much looooove, 😘 I hope the brain to fanfic pipeline is working out for you 🤌

Hello and holy shit! What an ego-bloating kind and generous ask this is! Let me jump right in:

1. I don't want to spoil the plot too much, but Danny's diet is going to be key in unraveling a very important part of Vlad's enigma, and I cannot wait to get to that point. I've been sprinkling crumbs of information throughout the story thus far, laying down a foundation upon which to build this Big Thing, and the next chapter (14) will—or should, anyway—finally begin to deliver on it.

2. My friend, you've just given me an epiphany: it's not so much Enemies to Lovers that we adore, I suspect, as it is Enemies and Lovers. That's exactly the tag I'd use to describe Hannigram, and it's such a different and exciting dynamic. I've never quite—well, scratch that—okay, I've never written Enemies and Lovers in such depth as I am with Familiar. There's something darkly satisfying about letting lovers remain ugly; the notion that deep, abiding affection can exist in tandem with fear and disgust; that even monsters—in the very act of being monstrous, or perhaps because they are monstrous and not in spite of their monstrosity—are capable of loving and being loved.

3. Frhgahrglahrglahg I'm going to print and frame this one and hang it on my wall for days when I feel utterly inept. I've been writing fanfiction for a while now, and I've written volumes of silly, embarrassing, poorly-executed tripe, so if I haven't at least gotten a little bit good at what I'm doing, I doubt I ever will 😆 That said, I'm putting a lot of effort into Familiar, I mean pulling out every stop and employing every nut and bolt in my mental toolbox to craft a good story (and reading. Always reading), partly as a challenge to myself and partly out of sheer love for this great ship and its fandom. Everyone here is so nice and welcoming and awesome. I only hope my tiny contribution continues to entertain.

Speaking of which, the wait for this next chapter shouldn't be long. The feedback I've been receiving is phenomenal, and it's definitely helped to fuel me along when my mania wavers. I'm incredibly grateful to you and everyone reading enjoying this story. Thank you thank you ♥

[goblinparty]

guess who snagged up a tattoo appointment for tomorrow!! just a lil winter flash of some holly but i'm stoked tbh. it's gonna hurt so good and i fucking need it rn