#it happened to me too. and i survived. and you will survive too. and one day none of this will matter.

[thedosianexplorer]

In case this saves anyone else from this pain, I'm going to borrow @thebibliosphere's tag:

^^^GUESS WHO WAS PRESCRIBED THAT MEDICATION FROM AGES 7-16 AND AGAIN AT 29 (it me)

I'm going to guess that the above drug referenced is montelukast (Singulair) because that's the only one I know with a black box warning. Montelukast, brand name Singulair, first became available in the US and UK in 1998. This black box warning did not exist before 2020. That's why I'm writing this, because many of us asthmatics were first prescribed montelukast prior to the risks of this drug being public knowledge when nothing else worked, because it was cheaper, or because our insurance wouldn't cover anything else.

If you are an asthmatic prescribed montelukast and any of the below resonates with your experience, speak to your provider about alternatives immediately:

I was prescribed Singulair in 1998 when my extremely debilitating asthma didn't respond to other treatment. I remember the child version of the drug was chewable and tasted a bit like chalky strawberry. My doctor assured my mother that it was "basically a sugar pill" (a common marketing phrase for the drug in 1998 as it turns out; I even got a Singulair pen to take home instead of a sticker). It worked! It curbed life-threatening asthma attacks and cut down the amount of albuterol I needed, which I had to curb because its carcinogenic properties actively made my respiratory system worse.

It also gave child me terrible insomnia, depression, obsessive-compulsive tendencies, paranoia, and ADHD (yes, current academic research shows a correlation between developing ADHD and long-term use of this drug, especially in kids, due to mechanisms that impact impulse control centers of the brain). This happened basically overnight and I had no idea what was happening to me or the vocabulary to explain it. There was nothing at the time that suggested Singulair could play a role in this. My parents thought I was just throwing a prolonged tantrum over moving/changing schools. The symptoms never went away but I "was a pleasure to have in class" so.

I was told to discontinue the drug in my late teens in favor of Symbicort and the immediate "I have a life to live" feeling kicked in. I'm pretty sure that is a huge factor in me surviving to graduate high school. I wouldn't have known the two things were related until I got laid off in 2021, couldn't afford my Symbicort prescription, and all my marketplace insurance would cover was montelukast. 2021 was the first time I ever had the black box warning read to me. I was told it was just a formality because I "should be fine with a previous history of taking the drug".

I had suicidal depression, psychosis, and paranoia fed to me one pill at a time for several months. Had it not been for the ongoing pandemic I DEFINITELY would have done something impulsive and potentially permanent because of how this drug made me feel. It took several months for me to realize what was happening and for my provider to fight with insurance to cover the Symbicort. Once I discontinued the drug, the fog lifted almost immediately.

I do not in any way regularly experience suicidal ideation or depression so that happening clued me in pretty quickly that something was wrong (I've also had similar side effects with hormonal birth control generic Junel so that is definitely something to keep in mind too). Many patients, advocates, and families who lost loved ones shared similar information in patient forums until it became impossible to ignore and the FDA investigated in 2019. It's subsequently become known that the FDA knew as early as 2009 that montelukast caused intense suicidal ideation and psychological disturbances in children/young adults, that it was known within Merck that this happened prior to the drug receiving FDA approval, and Merck lobbied to have the drug approved anyway, because of course they did (here's a recent link sharing FDA preliminary findings on why this drug behaves this way for some).

I am very grateful to the families who did their very best to understand why their loved ones took their own lives and lobbied the FDA to create a warning for this drug. They very likely saved my life, and certainly saved me from excruciating side effects. I am sorry it took so many deaths to change this. If you or a loved one lives in the US and are struggling with suicidal thoughts, here's a link to warm-lines who don't involve law enforcement.

99% of "mysterious disappearances" esp of people in their 20s who start acting weird for 48 hours and then vanish are not mysterious, thats just when a lot of reality-obliterating mental illness tends to kick in and it's pretty easy to get a short circuit in your brain that makes you go family guy death pose in joshua tree national park. it's not any less tragic, it's just a documented phenomenon and not particularly predictable. its a big reason the medical advice is for people with a family history of schizophrenia to completely avoid weed and psychedelics. "people just go crazy sometimes" is a principle of human health that used to be a lot more accepted prior to the american midcentury and to a certain extent thats a healthier way to conceptualize and prepare for the risk, as opposed to the modern assertion that anyone acting weird is dangerous and broken forever.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

One bed

Azriel x reader

Word count: 3000+

Summary: Due to unforeseen circumstances, you end up in the same room as Azriel

Warnings: none

I'd love to say I have solved the Frozen thingy, but I haven't yet. I've started writing part 3 and that's where I stopped because of the madness around. I was so close to making a solid plan for it. Unfortunately, the work happened, then Christmas at work baking f***ing chicken farm. Then husband got fever🙄and he couldn't live without getting someone else sick as well, so now son has high fever too and I'm the last one somehow surviving here. At least I have whole week of holidays next week. I hoped to relax and write more, but we'll see. Wish me luck🥴

Anyway here's something small and not so angsty that just popped up suddenly. Hope you enjoy it.

And for everyone who celebrate, have a peaceful holiday 💕

"I thought I've reserved enough rooms," Rhysand sighed. The last hour he was talking with the owner of the inn we were staying at, trying all possible tactics to persuade him to find us one more room. Impossible task from the very beginning as the inn was full.

We were on non-official official mission. At first, there were only six of us supposed to go as Amren declined, intending to stay with Mor in Velaris, protecting it. However, the two of them had yet another quarrel recently, which led to Amren suddenly appearing with a packed bag in hand a few seconds before intended departure. Nobody, not even Rhys, had balls to tell her no. And that's why we ended up in this situation. Rhys had everything perfectly planned, as usual, but he couldn't have known this would happen. And now we were one room short, but again - nobody dared to tell aloud whose fault it was. Amren was like hungry bulldog, ready to tear to shreds anyone and anything at the best of her days. Now, she was pissed off.

Feyre and Nesta took their keys, Feyre giving me an apologetic look. From the start, they were supposed to share rooms with their mates. This was also kind of vacation for us, so it was only logical they wanted to be with their partners.

That left Rhys with last two keys in hand. Amren snatched one and without looking at anyone or even a small mumbled sorry, she left. We exchanged look and whole group finally relaxed.

"Sorry," Feyre murmured as she headed to her room with sorrowful expression.

Before she left, Nesta gazed at me with silent question and I nodded. I would be fine, for sure. Cassian winked at me as he followed her. They both knew about the feelings I had for Azriel for quite some time, each supporting me in their own way. At this point, probably everyone around knew, except for the mentioned Shadowsinger and I didn't plan to be the one to break the news. I knew my limits and he was off them.

Rhys turned to me and Azriel with sorrowful expression, brows furrowed. "I'm sorry, Az, but you know.. Ladies first," he offered me the last key. Spymaster didn't even as much as blink, no protests at all. He looked as his usual self, unbothered by the problem at the hand.

"Thankies," I smiled, took the key and looped hand to Azriel's arm. "Come."

They both opened mouth in surprise, none of them expecting this from me. Rhys recovered as first.

"Enjoy yourself," he smirked and I rolled my eyes.

"Ha ha ha, how funny," I stuck out tongue at him. He chuckled and hurried after his mate, leaving the two of us alone. I raised brow at Shadowsinger who was still too shocked to speak. He didn't even notice Rhys' teasing.

"What? Did you think I would let you sleep on roof or what?"

"B-b-but," he stammered, his cheeks dusted with pink.

"No buts. Come!" I had to pull reluctant Azriel down the hallway.

"I can try another inn-"

"Nonsense! You would miss all the fun. Plus, I really don't mind. We are friends after all. I have nothing to be afraid of, right?"

I came to a sudden stop, realizing something.

"Wait! You mind staying with me in the same room?"

Before, it didn't occur to me that he could be against. I thought we were getting along pretty well, given the fact that we tended to seek out each other's company, sitting together and talking. The two of us even often hung out in the city, venturing cafes and bakeries. I thought he liked to spend time with me, but it could be only my mistaken impression. I knew I couldn't hope for more than friendship and I was fine with that as long as I could be close to him. He could feel differently though.

"No!" he hurried with an answer, eyes wide. "No, nothing like that. It's just.."

"What is it?"

"It's just.. you are female and I'm male."

I was so relieved to hear that, that I wanted to laugh, but I didn't. "That means that you will pounce on me like an animal as soon as door close?"

He flushed fiercely, averting his eyes. "You know I will do no such a thing. It just means that you might be uncomfortable because of that."

"I'm fine. Believe me," I said softly and took his hand. "So come on, silly."

He chuckled and this time, he willingly followed me.

The room, we got, was quite a nice one for an old inn, but it was rather smaller one. Most of the space was occupied by bed big enough to accommodate Illyrian wings. It was one of the reasons Rhysand chose this place, thinking about the comfort of his brothers. We were supposed to spend here whole week, maybe longer, so it was necessary.

Except of bed, there was only small table with two old chairs, hearth and connected bathroom.

After we settled down, the air had somehow thickened, both of us suddenly embarrassed. And so I did what I could to lighten the atmosphere a bit, but every try for a conversation died out soon after it started. At last, I gave up.

"It was long day," I stretched out, all my joints making a satisfying cracking sound and Azriel grimaced. He didn't like when I did it. "I'm tired. Do you want to use the bathroom as first?"

"No, go ahead," he offered and started to line up on table all the daggers he had on him. I paused and watched him, amazed. How could he hide so many? I thought he had only two, max three. He noticed me and smiled shyly.

"I'll clean them while you take shower. Don't worry, I'll put them away afterwards."

"I don't mind them at all," I mumbled, ashamed I got caught. "I'm just stunned you managed to sneak in the whole arsenal. Seeing it now, I would bet that not only do you have one for each of us but also even one spare."

At that he finally laughed, the rich sound warming my heart. I already missed that sound. Corners of my mouth curled into satisfied smile and I quickly gathered all necessary things and went to the bathroom.

When I came out, the daggers were gone from the table. Azriel was seated on the same chair he occupied since we came, pyjama in hands. He was staring into space, looking somehow troubled. Shadows gathered around his ear and he looked up at me, faking smile. Without a word, he stood up and hurried to the bathroom.

While I was waiting, I shoved my used underwear to the bottom of my bag and climbed to the bed, snuggling up in a warm blanket. It was quite cold here, old window hardly blocking the cold wind from outside.

Azriel took quite long to finish. By the time bathroom door creaked open, I was almost asleep. He rustled around for a while and adding big log to the fire, he turned off lights. I waited. The room went completely silent.

I opened eyes. "Are you kidding me," I sat up, sighing. "Az, I thought, we already talked it out." I glared into a dark corner by the hearth.

"Don't worry about me and sleep," he replied from his place on the old chair.

"You can't sleep on that old crap. It will most likely give in soon." The only answer was silence.

"C'mon, Az. It won't do you any good if you're sleep-deprived. To none of us in fact. What if something happens and you won't be able to fight because you are too tired and sore?"

Again silence.

"Do you want me to help you to the bed? I warn you, I'm going to drag you here not by arm but by ear this time."

He chuckled. His wings rustled and mattress dipped under his weight. "Fine then. Have it your way."

I tucked him in like a small child, mindful of his wings and settled down, heart pounding in my throat.

"That wasn't necessary."

"Believe me it was. And don't try to fake it. I'm light sleeper. I will know if you get up in the middle of the night."

"Fine, fine." He sounded amused. He was lying on his back, wings folded and tugged close to his body.

"Relax. The bed is enough big for both of us. Even if you touch me. I'm not made of sugar, I won't melt into puddle," I assured him as I curled up on my side of bed with back to him, taking as little space as possible so he had enough comfort. He made a sound at the back of his throat.

I thought I wouldn't be able to sleep at all with him being so close. But as bed warmed up with his presence and his calming scent wrapped around me as another blanket, I fell asleep in no time.

* * *

Azriel didn't even blink an eye. He was just lying there, stretched on his back, gazing at ceiling. He wasn't used to falling asleep next to someone. After she reassured him, he relaxed a bit but only his body. He was too nervous and excited at the same time. He was scared to even breath, not wanting to wake her up. How could she sleep so soundly? Didn't she feel the same? Didn't his presence stir her nerves?

Shadows curled on pillow near his ear, whispering. They described him in detail how she drifted off with sweet smile on her lips. Smile that she was still wearing. He wished he could see it with his own eyes.

He dared to turn his head to the side to watch her back, her shoulder slightly rising with every breath. Even at place like this in the middle of nowhere, she kept smelling like field of spring flowers, delicate and sweet. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the moment.

He felt so lucky right now and thanked the Mother for sending Amren at last minute, giving him this opportunity. For years, he was trying to get closer to Y/N. No matter how many times, he was ready to tell her about his feelings, he always gave up in the end, not daring to even suggest it. She was everything he wasn't, beautiful, kind and perfect. She deserved better.

He watched her entire night, mesmerized. It was strange. She was always so energetic during the day, yet at night she didn't move at all. It made him wonder whether it was because of him or it was normal.

It was after the sunrise when he finally calmed down and dozed off for hour or two.

* * *

Three days later, a knock sounded on our door. We were just finishing off the lasts of our breakfast. We looked up in time to see Rhysand's head peeking in. He held hand over his eyes with sassy smirk on his lips.

"Can I come in? I wouldn't like to see something inappropriate."

I rolled my eyes while Azriel bid him in, unaffected by his teasing. Honestly, everyone was making fun of us for no reason. After the first night, Nesta pulled me aside to ask me how it went and how I felt. I had nothing to tell her. At least nothing interesting anyway. I slept like a baby and not only the first night, but every night after.

Every evening, Azriel dutifully took his side of bed and I curled up on mine. No touching, only a pleasant small chat between friends. It was noticeable that he didn't sleep much the first night, however after that, he didn't seem to have such troubles. I was glad for that.

"I came to inform you that finally one more room is available. If you want, one of you can take it," he grinned and waited for our reply with one brow raised.

Out of the corner of eye, I looked at Azriel who was already eyeing me with unreadable expression. It seemed he wouldn't speak and it was up to me to decide.

"Well.. I don't mind to share room with Az at all. But if you'd like to have your privacy.." I turned to him.

His eyes widened slightly and his lips moved without making a sound.

"I don't mind, too," he managed.

"So," Rhys dragged the word. "You want to stay together? Really?"

We nodded as one man, not willing to give him what he hoped for. He was visibly disappointed.

"Fine then," he sighed, "as you want. I'll inform the owner."

* * *

A week later we were so used to this situation and each other's presence that we returned to our usual selves, rambling about anything, laughing, even touching lightly.

Our mission was over and this was our last night of sharing room. Azriel was spread on bed next to me, his wing gently touching my back. I was slowly falling asleep while we did small talk. Somewhere between dream and reality I got idea. Crazy as it was, my sleepy brain didn't find anything strange or wrong with it and my body acted on its own.

With closed eyes I rolled to his side, wrapped arm around his waist and rested my head on his chest. Azriel made a surprised sound and stiffened, but he didn't try to push me away. His smell filled my nose, his warmth seeping into me. Frantic but steady melody of his heart lulled me deeper into sleep. Last thing I felt before I completely drifted off, was his body relaxing under me and his arm holding me close.

* * *

Azriel was so surprised, he couldn't think straight. What was happening? He touched Y/N lightly, yet she didn't mind. She was almost asleep, relaxed and seemingly comfortable with him as her pillow. He felt her smiling into his chest and that gave him courage to wrap his hands around her. She hummed with satisfaction and dozed off completely.

Azriel gazed at her, unsure what to think or feel. Naturally, it made him happy, a dream-come-true kind of situation, but was it really okay? Was it really happening? It seemed to him just like a figment of his imagination, fed by amazing week spent by her side, so close to her.

He pinched himself, really painfully, leaving a bruise on his forearm. It was real. He swallowed hard. Slowly small smile spread on his face. He could get used to this.

When the initial surprise and embarrassment had passed, he found himself enjoying this. His heart was pounding fast, as he touched her hair and pushed them aside to see her face. He couldn't help it and traced a single finger down her face and jaw, mapping her full lips, lovely nose and soft arches of her brows.

He chuckled lightly. Y/N didn't even stir. So much to a light-sleeper.

As he watched her, his fantasy took over, offering him all kinds of imaginary situations that could lead to them ending up in this position; from innocent snuggling together for the night to them being naked, covered in sweat and spent after good sex. His heart squeezed in pain. He loved it and wanted it all. He didn't even realize that he was tugging her closer and closer, holding her so firmly there was no space left between them.

Despite everything, the scenario of innocent snuggling immediately became his favourite one. It held a certain kind of peace and warmth, something he longed for the most. He kept replaying it again and again until he fell asleep, too. The fantasy followed him even to his dreams where it became so real that it was unbearable.

* * *

I woke up unusually early at dawn. Still drowsy I looked around, not comprehending where I was. I was warm and comfy, so ready to close my eyes again, until I notice rising and falling steady flesh under me. That completely woke me up.

I looked up, finding Azriel still fast asleep. He was smiling sweetly, yet the tears rolled down his cheeks, soft whimpers leaving his lips. My chest tightened at the sight. It hurt me to see him like this. I reached up and gently wiped the tears off.

He slowly opened eyes and looked at me, still smiling.

"Good morning," I whispered.

"'Morning, Y/N," he replied, his deep voice raspy in the most sexy way. His thumb started to move up and down my waist in soothing motion.

"Bad dreams?"

"Sometimes dreams can be so beautiful that they make one cry," he murmured. He sounded so sad that I felt like crying too. Instead, I placed both of my hands on his chest and rested my chin on top of them.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I searched his eyes.

He shook his head and wiped off the rest of his tears. "I just wish I could go back and keep having the same dream for the rest of my life," he sighed, his eyes never leaving my face.

I propped up on my elbow and caressed his cheek. "You know that dreams don't have to stay dreams. They can became reality if you want them to."

His eyes widened and he swallowed hard. He seemed to be thinking very hard about something. Determination filled his eyes and he lifted up his head, stopping an inch from my face, waiting.

It was so sudden that I held my breath, but I didn't pull away. Watching me closely, Azriel leaned even closer and his lips lightly grazed over mine. I moaned, my body acting on its own. My eyes closed and I firmly pressed my lips to his. All the years of my suppressed feelings poured into this one kiss, not believing that there would be any more. He groaned and opened up, slowly moving, testing the waters. His fingers dug into flesh of my waist, holding me impossibly close.

It ended as suddenly as it started. He reluctantly broke the kiss and rested his forehead against mine, heaving.

"I want it to become real."

[paceprompting]

cinnamon buns

written for ‘christmas’ | wc: 736 # | steddie | rated: t | cw: no archive warnings apply | tags: post season four, pre-relationship, fluff, steve has a crush on eddie, and vice versa, christmas together

@steddieholidaydrabbles

Wayne always managed to get Christmas off. Every year.

Eddie didn’t know what exactly he promised in return to manage it, but ever since little eight-year-old Eddie Munson shuffled into the trailer to live with his uncle, every Christmas had been theirs.

Wayne always woke up first, setting out the presents collected throughout the year and hidden under his bed—and Eddie hadn’t peeked since that first year—nursing his first cup of coffee while in his pajamas until Eddie emerged.

When he was still little, he’d bum-rush the tree and tear open the presents, but soon the little traditions emerged.

Playing Rudolph and Year Without a Santa Claus on VCR tapes that survived years of rewatches, but no interdimensional portals.

Cinnamon buns from tins for breakfast, always burnt around the edges and covered in icing—but they split the best one from the middle.

And the last present was always, always Wayne’s. It took several years for Eddie’s wrapping skills to actually look like the box he was wrapping, but Wayne never said a word.

It was one of those Christmases that Eddie got his first set of dice.

Government hush money bought a decent house for them, with real insulation and top-of-the-line boiler. Just in time for Christmas. Wayne actually had a real hiding place for the presents this time, and no matter how hard Eddie had looked, he’d have to wait until next year to find it.

They could get real lights, too. Not just the couple of strings that wouldn’t overload the trailer’s generator.

They also had to, since those lights were carted off to some Area 51 with the rest of the things the government wanted to pretend had never happened until maybe they could use it to their own benefit.

One other thing had changed this Christmas, too.

There were three of them this year.

Eddie heard the crunch of tires on asphalt from the kitchen. He was supposed to be setting up the ham to go in the oven—which he’d never done in his life, yet he’d volunteered—and he’d only gotten as far as preheating the oven.

So, he headed straight for the front door, sans any sort of jacket or shoes.

Eddie had hated the cold most of his life.

When you lived in a metal box with shitty heating on a good day, the cold months meant shivering through showers, mainlining coffee just to be warm for a couple minutes and layering blankets because sweating was better than losing a toe.

But there was something about Steve Harrington in the cold.

Or, more specifically, in the snow.

He eased out of the driver’s side of the Beemer, running a hand through his hair. His shoulders filled out the blue denim of his jacket, which matched his jeans—which stretched over his pert butt.

Not that Eddie was looking. For too long.

Maybe Eddie liked the cold a little bit more now.

But the whole reason Steve had bent over in the first place was to bring out a few things from his backseat. He held them behind his back as he straightened, and Eddie pouted as he trudged through the snow onto the porch.

His cheeks were pink when joined Eddie by the front door, ducking his head as he offered a hello.

“Hey, Eds,” he said.

Eddie leaned over to try and peer at what Steve had behind his back, eyes widening when Steve brought out a Tupperware that looked like it had several stacks of cookies, warm enough to steam up the inside.

“For me?” he asked, raising his brows.

Steve let him take the cookies with no comment.

“No, I thought it’d be rude not to bring something.” He shrugged, and it took Eddie a moment to realize that his other arm was still bent behind him. Eddie stared pointedly, and Steve smiled before revealing a more Christmas-y gift—in red and green plaid wrapping paper and white ribbon. “This is, though.”

Eddie immediately swapped cookies for the present, holding it close with a wide grin.

Steve cocked his head, sliding his hands (probably cold) into his pockets. “You’re not going to open it?”

He propped his present on his hip and reached forward to grab onto Steve’s wrist. With probably wild eyes, Eddie met Steve’s gaze, waited until Steve leaned forward just a bit and said, with every bit of seriousness, “We haven’t had the cinnamon buns, yet.”

[lurkingshan]

Shan's Favorite Dramas of 2024

The year is wrapping up and I have forced myself to narrow down to a list of 15 (I tried 10 but the choices were too hard!) of my favorite 2024 dramas across genres and countries of origin. This is not every drama I liked this year (that list would be incredibly long), but these are the ones that inspired the most brain rot and really stuck with me.

At 25:00 in Akasaka (Japan, Gaga)

The mood and tone of this drama was just perfect, and I loved the way it explored the blurred lines and confusion that can result when the real and fake aspects of a professional relationship get all mixed up. Hayama was a great character and I loved his arc, in particular.

Cherry Magic (Thailand, Viu)

I still can't believe how much I loved this adaptation. A fantastic example of taking a work from another culture and translating it to a new context while not only retaining the core narrative, but even enhancing it. This show gave us what the Japanese version didn't--the resolution to the physical intimacy arc at the core of the premise--and retained all the charm of the original while adding new humor. And delivered one of the best romances of the year while it was at it!

Don't Care for an Old Man's Underwear (Japan, fansub)

Oppan, my beloved. Easily the best family drama of the year, loaded with excellent messages while (mostly) avoiding feeling like an after-school special. Makoto's journey to update his thinking with Daichi's help, and the mutual friendship that developed between them, is one of my favorite relationships of the year. I loved every character's story; there is something for everyone to connect with in this show.

Fangs of Fortune (China, iQIYI)

This drama was just so much FUN. A gorgeous feast for the eyes, a wealth of fascinating characters and relationship dynamics, and a fast-moving plot that you don't need to try too hard to understand. It was a great binge and Li Lun was easily my favorite villain of the year.

Gyeongseong Creature (South Korea, Netflix)

A gorgeous period piece set during one of the darkest chapters of Korean history, this one took me by surprise (I am usually not a horror girlie). The writing for this show had surprising depth and I loved its themes around family and loyalty and survival under fascism.

Knock Knock Boys (Thailand, Gaga)

My boys! I loved this show about a group of four queer men living together in a shared house, getting into mischief and supporting each other through school and work and relationship struggles. The show is funny and breezy but also manages to tackle some serious issues with grace while delivering two strong romances and my favorite coming out narrative of the year.

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (South Korea, iQIYI)

Winner for best QL of the year, and a romance that will be sticking with me for a long time. Dohoe is one of the most honest and unflinching depictions of a an adult psyche shaped by childhood abuse that I have ever seen on my screen. It was healing to see him treated with such compassion and to see him and Juyoung find their way to a happy life together. An absolute must watch for all you angst with a happy ending fans.

Love for Love’s Sake (South Korea, iQIYI)

It's so hard to get a high concept premise like this right, but this drama did an amazing job with it. It's one of those shows where you can go back over everything that happened in retrospect and it all adds up, and I loved that the ending lent itself to so many different interpretations. One of the best watch experiences of the year.

Love in the Big City (South Korea, Viki)

Go Young, my beloved. This drama adaptation of the internationally successful novel exceeded my wildest expectations, and I am still a little stunned that we got the privilege of seeing it. It is, bar none, the most authentically queer show on this list, and a beautiful depiction of all the significant relationships in one young man's life. I will be rewatching it many times and keeping it close to my heart.

Love is Like a Poison (Japan, fansub)

A masterful blend of comedy, action, and romance, this drama about a lawyer with delusions of grandeur and the scam artist who decides to become his partner was a constant delight and gave us my favorite battle couple of the year.

Marahuyo Project (Philippines, YouTube)

I can't tell you the joy and relief I felt to get another high quality queer drama from the Philippines this year. And this one had such a great cast of characters, anchored by one of my favorite protagonists of the year in King. It's funny, it's romantic, it's touching, and as always for a JP Haboc production, it has an amazing soundtrack.

She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat (Japan, fansub)

My girls! I'm still amazed by how much this drama gave us in its second season by expanding the world of the show beyond our two main characters to include so many other women whose stories were just as fascinating. This is the season where Nomoto and Kasuga really came into themselves and started building the life they want to have together, and it was a real joy to watch.

Tender Light (China, YouKu)

The way this show had me in a chokehold while it was airing! Visually stunning, incredibly well-constructed, and featuring one of the best performances of the year from Zhang Xin Cheng, it's an exhilarating mystery and a very touching story of the unusual bond between a student and the older woman who fascinates and terrifies him.

The Midnight Romance in Hagwon (South Korea, Viki)

You know a drama is good when it has you deeply invested in a random topic you never thought you were interested in. In this case, that's the intense debate on pedagogical methods between the public schools and hagwons in Korea. Alongside delivering a great romance, this drama was passionate about teaching and it sucked me right in to the Korean literature lessons at the heart of the story.

Unknown (Taiwan)

No other drama inspired more brain rot in me this year than this story of a family rocked by changing feelings as the chosen siblings grow up. The loyalty and love and complex desire between Wei Qian and Wei Yuan is the heart of this story, and the drama did an incredible job of taking us along for the journey as things shifted and changed between them. I still think about them all the time.

Bonus: Favorite Classic Dramas Watched for the First Time in 2024

I am always catching up on an endless backlog of dramas alongside my live watches. Here are the best gems I finally watched this year.

Lost (South Korea, Viki)

I loved this deeply melancholy drama about two lost souls who connect unexpectedly. I finally pulled it up from my to be watched list because it shares director Hur Jin Ho with Love in the Big City (he did part 2 with Go Young's mom) and it sure feels like it! The characters are deep and complicated, the relationships are complex and carefully built, and it is hands down the best encapsulation of a failed marriage between two good people who truly loved each other that I have ever seen. It's heavy and not for everyone--mining the depths of human despair is kind of its thing--but if you like this sort of story it's world class.

Mouse (South Korea, Viki)

I was recently in the market for a good mystery thriller, so I finally watched this apparently very divisive 2021 drama--and if there's a divide I am firmly on the HELL YEAH side of the line. This drama had an interesting concept (that I will not describe bc holy shit spoilers, you should go in knowing nothing) that it unwound with remarkable patience and precision over 20 episodes. Its themes were strong and consistent, the lead characters were super compelling, the plotting and pacing and editing were unbelievably tight, the performances were incredible, and it made a lot of provocative points and ended well, feeling coherent and complete. It sustained my full interest and attention without any stumbles for ~25 incredible hours.

Mr. Sunshine (South Korea, Netflix)

Another one that's been on my watch list forever and finally got its moment when I was in the mood for a historical where ladies got to wield weapons alongside the men. And unsurprisingly, I loved it. Writer Kim Eun Sook is known for her big, glossy, epic dramas, and her style made a good pairing with a story about a rebel faction during the Japanese occupation of Korea. I really loved all the main characters in this show, and was moved by the complicated exploration of their loyalty (or lack thereof) to their homeland. This drama also has a very strong class analysis baked into its themes, which I very much appreciated. It was a traumatic watch, but in a way that felt right given the setting and the choices characters made.

The Miracle of Teddy Bear (Thailand, YouTube)

I watched this one on a mission and it was worth every moment. Nut is one of my favorite protagonists in any queer drama, and I thought the show made great use of its fantasy concept to explore some very real human experiences with depth and compassion. This show feels like an especially important counterpoint to the Thal BL bubble, and I recommend it highly for anyone who enjoys those dramas.

When I Fly Towards You (China, Netflix)

And we end on a light and sweet note, with my favorite coming of age romance that I watched all year. This drama was just lovely, and it will be a go-to rewatch for me for years to come. There’s something so comforting about a story where you start with the happy ending before jumping to the beginning, and just get to sit back and see how they get there. I loved all the characters in this and marveled at how it was never boring despite being decidedly low angst.

[artbyblastweave]

Is it weird that, the more posts you make about how being a genre fiction protagonist would suck and ruin your life (posts I love and think are great), the more I want to go full "No, suck eggs, Alan Moore, being a superhero is cool and good, actually?" I can't tell if it's mindless contraiantism or an actual point.

I think it's an understandable impulse, because there are absolutely strains of very-online genre-fic and cape-fic critique that, if taken super seriously as a blueprint for how fiction ought to be written, would basically amount to the Wertham Scare with a social justice gloss, and we don't need a second one of those. If a person bins the entire superhero genre as "irredeemably fascist" or anything similar, for example, I start paying extremely close attention to the implicit back half of that proclamation, the part where they lay out what part of that condemnation they consider actionable. The censorious should be made to eat their own black markers. You can do whatever you want forever.

On the other hand, you really can't get around what happens to a lot of escapist genre-fic- cape-fic in particular- if you apply any kind of scrutiny or big-boy grown up emotional or moral logic to it whatsoever. It wasn't built to survive that level of scrutiny, it wasn't built to still see publication 80 years after the fact- and indeed, stuff in that space that isn't seeing active mass-market success, John Carter and the like, that tends to get judged basically as harshly as I think it deserves. There really isn't any way around the fact that we're all playing Frankenstein with the innards of mass-market children's stories. And moreover I feel like there's an offputting mealy-mouthedness to a lot of the contemporary big-two output that notices the cracks in the foundation and tries to have their cake and eat it too, having capes that beat bad guys up but in a markedly progressive way. A certain level of pessimism and cynicism is often the only believable way to get those wires to connect if you're trying to make your spandex crowd interface with real-world cynicism. (Superman is ironically one of the Big-two properties that I think most consistently threads this needle. Batman has a harder time due to the billionaire thing. The X-Men are turbofucked and have been for a while.)

Astro City is one of the capethings that I think hits the best balance on all of this, and nonetheless one of the worldbuilding beats that does a lot of the heavy lifting on believability for me is that the Nixon Admin executed the setting's Captain American analogue on trumped-up charges as a show of force and as a distraction from Watergate. Because he would! He would do that! "What about Nixon" is a fantastic litmus test for this kind of thing IMO- even if the answer is that he was the head of a cult that built a mutant-powered flying saucer to take over the world with, that's still better than dodging the question entirely, or having Superman suck off Reagan like Byrne did.

[demilypyro]

You’ve gotten survival out of the way, and done it really well, I guess now you can focus on the little things that really matter to you?

I guess the question then becomes what even matters to me.

My gut instinct is that I want money and recognition, but when I think about it for .2 seconds it's pretty obvious that that's just me feeling the need for an income to support myself, and wanting validation because I hate myself. So that's not really what I care about so much as it's the surface level needs I feel.

I care about entertaining people, but I worry I don't have any skills that really matter or leave an impact. Let's plays and blogs are fine and dandy, and I'm happy that people enjoy my stuff, but it's kind of dime-a-dozen. I often struggle to think of it as really being meaningful when there are hundreds of others producing virtually the exact same content.

When I was a teenager I used to think I wanted to be an artist, but speaking plainly I've never really had any talent for it. Any time I try to get good at it, I get frustrated when I don't see myself improving. Then I feel like I'm wasting my time, and it's not long before I give up again. It's a skill I desire, but not one I see myself being able to reach.

I tend to hop from hobby to hobby looking for something that will be fulfilling. Something that I can make "my thing" that I'm really good at, something I can identify myself with. But nothing ever really feels right. Probably because I'm waiting for the one thing that I'll be immediately good at. But that will never happen, because that's not how skills work. I'm too impatient and too easily disappointed in myself to truly make any of these activities part of my identity.

The obvious answer is to pick a skill and really stick with it for however many years it takes to get good at it, but I'm so scared of choosing the wrong one - of wasting my time on something I have no talent for - that it keeps me from fully committing to anything. And so I remain aimless and unfulfilled.

So I don't really know what matters to me.

[noihavenosanitythanksforasking]

okay so heres my ideal byler confession:

so mileven breaks up in either episode one or two either is fine by me pacing wise

throughout episodes 1-4 imma need the flirting and gay longing to hit a fever pitch. not too much but enough for me to be holding my breath before jonathan fucking interrupts again. i need moments where im on the edge of my seat thinking "this is it" just for something to interrupt. i need the tension to BUILD.

episode 4 imma need micheal wheeler to be vecna'd. and i need suffering. i need that electrocuted mf to DESTORY my boy. i need a vision of will byers taunting my boy relentlessly. i need all the internalized homophobia from the past 4 seasons to be visualized in a hellscape of trauma. i need my boy to give the fuck up. and i need will to be the one to pull him back from the brink. i want mike to be ready to jump off the cliff again and wills voice to be his Running up that hill that pulls him back.

and when mike survives this vecna excursion. im going to need a parallel to the lumax scene ofc.

the next episode best be pure angst and pure plot. i want avoidance galore. i want mike terrified and quaking in his fucking boots that his visions of will will be a reality.

escape from camazotz. i think this will be it. i have two guesses

number one- some sort of big battle or event or something. possibly churchgate? or something of the like. dramatic kiss confession. aka were about to die so fuck it lets kiss.

OR

number two- some sort of fight. rain fight parallel. will is pissed that mikes been avoiding him and how mike said theyd be a team now. and hes also super worried bc bro just got vecnad. fighting ensures, lots of deflection but in the end we have the classic "because im in love with you moment" from mike. or something of the like. i feel like hed shout something along the lines of "i think i might be in love with you" first and then after a second of silence hed say quieter "im in love with you" cue dramatic kiss. will tells him he loves him back. however smth is happening and they dont have time to really discuss anything further and thats that. for now

im not sure which i want more

after this we defeat vecna and throughout all of this we have some tender byler moments. possibly a few more kisses but nothing major.

a few weeks after vecna is defeated will is outside on the swings of one of the schools which have been turned into a shelter during reconstruction. mike sees him and walks out. he stands there while will swings and have a some small talk. soon they lapse into silence and mike blurts out "will you go out with me" or "will you be my boyfriend" OR "can we be boyfriends" (again not sure which i prefer). Will will smile at him and say yes. making a parallel to how they met in kindergarten.

time skip to 89 we have established byler and i fully expect a drunk byler "crazy together" reference and i will die on this hill

[little-mrs-morales]

Trash TV

Dieter Bravo x Personal Assistant Reader

The hotel room buzzed with an awkward quiet, broken only by the faint sounds of the city beyond the thick glass windows. Dieter Bravo sat slouched on the edge of the bed, his hoodie bunched around his hunched shoulders, the fabric stretched tight between his restless fingers. His usual dramatic bravado was gone, replaced by a kind of nervous vulnerability you hadn’t seen before. Maybe it was because he’d never stayed sober this long. Or maybe it was because he’d never been in a relationship that wasn’t driven by his money.

You sat across from him, legs tucked beneath you on the armchair, a hotel robe loosely draped over your frame. This was your first Christmas as not just his personal assistant but also *kind of* his girlfriend. You hadn’t put a label on your relationship, but he’d stayed sober for you and become surprisingly faithful. You never thought you’d see Dieter Bravo clueless about someone flirting with him—yet when the receptionist tried, he brushed her off, saying he couldn’t wait to see the gifts his lady got him. That’s what you were to him: his keeper, his lady, the one who sorted out his messes but also the one he knew he couldn’t survive without. He wanted you in every aspect of his life, even if it meant staying sober.  

It had been an easy night until now—room service, bad movies, and his running commentary punctuating every ridiculous scene with remarks about how he’d do better. But something had shifted—a shadow crossing his face during a rare quiet moment. And now you were here, trying to figure out what he’d never say aloud unless it forced its way out.

“I’m not lovable,” Dieter said suddenly, his voice heavy with self-hate. The words fell like stones into the quiet, echoing through you.

You blinked, caught off guard by the rawness in his voice. “What?”

He didn’t look at you. Instead, he focused on the frayed edge of his hoodie, tugging at a loose thread. “I’m fun for a little while,” he said, the corner of his mouth twisting into a bitter smile. “But there’s too much under the surface. It’s more than anyone should have to deal with.” He let out a laugh that sounded painful. “I’m like trash TV—and that’s ironic because I’m a good actor—you watch it for a while, and it makes you feel better about how normal you are, but it gets annoying if it’s all you watch.”

You stared at him, his words hanging in the air like a unspoken truth. He wasn’t joking, not this time. The usual quips and distractions he threw up to keep everyone at arm’s length were gone, leaving only the jagged edges of his insecurities. He sat there, bracing himself for rejection, like he expected you to agree.

“You really believe that?” you asked, your voice softer than you meant it to be.

“I know it,” he shot back quickly, defensively. His hands stilled, and he finally looked up at you. His dark eyes were wide, vulnerable in a way that made your chest ache.

“I’ve been through this enough to know how it ends.”

“How does it end?” you pressed, leaning forward.

“With me fucking it up,” he said, his voice breaking just enough to betray him. “With you realizing I’m...” He exhaled sharply, dragging his hands through his unruly hair. “I don’t know. Too much? Too broken? Take your pick. It always happens eventually. And I’m gonna end up shattered, restless, and totally done with myself.”

The weight of his confession was suffocating, but not for the reasons he feared. It wasn’t disappointment or regret that sat heavy in your chest—it was the sheer force of wanting to prove him wrong. You stood, padding over to the bed and sitting down next to him. He tensed at first, but he didn’t pull away.

“Dieter,” you said, your voice steady. He turned his head slightly, just enough to look at you from the corner of his eye. “You’re not trash TV. You’re far from it.”

He scoffed, but you cut him off before he could deflect. “I’m serious. You’re messy, complicated, and frustrating as hell sometimes. But you’re also funny, smart, and... God, so kind when you let yourself be. You care more than you think you're allowed to, and it scares you.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt. You took it as permission to keep going.

“You’re not some temporary distraction or someone to put up with. You’re just... you. And yeah, maybe you’re a lot, but I’d rather have all of you than none. You don’t have to be perfect to be worth loving.”

His breath hitched, and you swore you saw the faintest sheen of tears in his eyes. He dropped his gaze, his hands wringing together in his lap. “You don’t get it,” he muttered. “You don’t know everything yet. You know more than most, but there are still things…” He knocked on his head. “…things that would scare you away.”  

“Then let me see,” you said. “Stop deciding for me what I can handle. Give me the chance to decide for myself. And I’ll show you I can handle all of you.”  

He looked at you then, really looked at you, like he was searching for the catch, the lie, the flaw in your words. When he didn’t find it, his shoulders sagged, some of the tension bleeding out of him.

“You make it sound easy,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s not,” you admitted. “But nothing worth it ever is.”

Dieter let out a shaky laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. “You’re either insane or... I don’t know. Insane seems more likely.”  

“Probably,” you teased gently. “But that’s why we fit. We’re both insane. A good match, I’d call it.” You nudged his shoulder with yours. “You’re insane for putting up with me. For bringing me my pretty pickles when I’m on my period, or buying my crazy stationery when I’m in a creative mood.” 

He huffed a small laugh, the ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.  

You stayed close, giving him space to process in his own time. He didn’t say anything more, but the way he leaned into you spoke volumes. There was still a long way to go, but at least he wasn’t alone in it anymore.

He was quiet for a while, his breathing calming, his hand finally still in his lap. Then he shifted slightly, turning toward you. When his eyes met yours again, there was something different—a hint of determination under the vulnerability.

“You really think I’m worth it?” he asked, his voice low, almost fragile.

“I don’t think it,” you said softly. “I know it.”

His gaze flicked to your lips for a brief second before returning to your eyes, as if asking for permission. You didn’t hesitate, leaning forward to close the space between you. The kiss started gently, his lips soft and unsure against yours, but soon deepened, filled with a raw desperation and quiet gratitude. His hands cupped your face, trembling but steady, as if afraid to let go. You had shared countless kisses before, but this one felt different—more real, more alive.

When you finally broke apart, your foreheads rested together, breaths mingling in the space between you. Dieter’s eyes were glossy, his expression unreadable for a beat before he whispered, “I think I love you.”

The confession hung in the air, raw and unpolished, but it was everything.

You smiled, your hands resting on his wrists. “Good,” you murmured. “Because I love you too.”

A shaky laugh escaped him, and he pulled you into a tight embrace, his face buried in the crook of your neck. For the first time, it felt like he wasn’t holding anything back. And for the first time, you knew he believed he didn’t have to.

Writing Prompt #2916

"I'm not lovable. Not in the long term. I know that."

"What?"

"I'm fun for a little bit, but there's too much when you dig down. It's more than anyone else should have to handle. I'm like trash TV—you put it on for a little bit and it makes you feel better about how normal you seem but grating if it's all you watch."

[jaehunnyy]

trust you with my heart | smg

Pairing: vampire!Mingi x witch!reader

Genre: enemies-to-lovers!au, fantasy!au, fluff, a bit of angst if you squint?

Wordcount: 4.1k

Rating: pg-13

Warnings: kissing, few swear words, both of them have a sucky past, grammar mistakes

a/n: this is my work for @cromernet's secret santa event, and it's forrrrr drumrolls @bvidzsoo!! my dear Ariadne, this was something new to me and i tried my best so i hope you won't be too disappointed of it, happy holidays! 💕

Networks: @cromernet, @illusionnet, @blankjournal

“Soon, there won’t be any Aurora University to celebrate or any students to attend if we don’t do this! We have to take the risk and send them there.” 

You gasped at your professor’s words, not even minding that you could be expelled if anyone caught you eavesdropping—even when you felt a cold hand around your neck and another pressed on your lips, preventing you from screaming in fear. 

“When did Y/N become that bold? Eavesdropping—at the dean’s office? This better be good!” 

You closed your eyes in frustration as you realized who caught you there—Song Mingi. You have fought for the student of the year title every year since you entered Aurora University. You wanted to say something in return, but you heard your professors talk again, suddenly feeling the weight of the situation as you thought about the place that was your home for the last few years—not only did it provide a safe space for your supernatural powers, but you couldn’t imagine what it would’ve become of you if it wasn’t for their support and understanding throughout learning how to control them.

“Let me go,” you said, words muffled by his hand still on your mouth: “Mingi!” you said one last time, stepping with your heel right on his foot and freeing yourself from his grip as he let out a painful sound. “Don’t you dare say a single word!” you threatened, looking at him through sharp eyes. 

He clenched his fists so hard, that you were sure the half-moons his nails dug into his skin would be visible a few minutes after. Mingi opened his mouth to give you a remark before a strong voice interrupted your antics: “I have to go search for them—or maybe not. Mingi, Y/N, we were just looking for you!” your elf professor exclaimed, pushing the two of you into the dean’s office. You were doomed. 

“We hope this nice time of the day finds you well, our dear students—actually, what were the two of you doing here?“ the elf raised his eyebrow, looking at you. 

“We don’t have time to lose! Tell them, or I will!” the dean, a fairly volcanic werewolf exclaimed. 

The elf scrunched his nose at the noise, giving Y/N and Mingi a smile before starting: 

“As you might already know, our University is in danger due to The Nameless Protector’s wishes to withhold some funds from our university. You two are our best shot at convincing them this university is worth saving and investing in, so we want to talk to you about scheduling a meeting with them and trying to change their mind. We will provide everything you need, just—please, try your best and be safe.” 

You looked at Mingi, just to be met with a dumbfounded look, despite your shocked one. "I don’t think he’s capable of understanding this", you mentally giggled, before becoming serious and weighing the gravity of the situation. Your lips trembled with the ache of your words, this was too big of a responsibility, you couldn’t, you won’t— 

“We’re delighted to take part in this adventure together, Mister Elfy. Thank you for choosing us.” Mingi smirked, throwing an arm around your shoulders and bringing you closer to him. 

You forced a lopsided smile, putting your arm around Mingi’s waist and pinching his skin with your nails, making him hiss, your poor professors smiling awkwardly in your direction, not quite sure whether the two of you would survive each other before facing other adventures.  

You were convinced this could only happen to you.

As time passed and the needed preparations were done, you found yourself sitting on the train, facing the cocky vampire that didn’t even bother to check on you. Book in his hands, his eyes were following the letters scattered on the pages, lips slowly moving as his reading came out in a whisper. You wished you could distract yourself like he did, but the thought of facing them terrified you to the core. The Nameless Protector was known to be a ruthless person. There weren’t a lot of people who met them, other than their Right Hand, and you weren’t even sure if it was more than a tale your grandma used to tell you as a good night story; what if they ate witches or something? 

“Are you okay? Not that I care, but you look paler than me, and this is quite concerning considering that last time I checked, I was the only vampire on this train.” Mingi’s raspy voice came to your ears, making you scoff. 

“I’m going to the restroom.” 

Or so you wished because as soon as you stood up, a sudden brake made you lose your balance, landing right into Mingi’s lap. You were again convinced that this could only happen to you. 

Still dazed by the sudden encounter, you slowly raised your face to meet the vampire’s, his sharp eyes piercing through your soul.  You were so close that you were sure if vampires needed to breathe, you would have felt his warm breath on your lips. You were convinced he could also feel the tension building between the two of you, and his lips suddenly looked so good that—

“Uhm, tickets, please.” The train conductor faked a cough and you realized the position you were in, sighing for the nth time that day. 

The trip took around two days, and you couldn't wait to finally bask in some fluffy blankets, in a comfortable bed—only for your dreams to be crushed, once again. You entered the spacious room, only to be met with a king-sized bed. And you would normally be so happy about it, if only Mingi didn’t follow right behind, having to share the room with you. A room with one bed. 

“I don't think vampires need sleep, so I will take the bed, thank you,” you said, hurrying to the bed, only to feel his ice touch on your wrist. 

“Not so fast, Broomie,” he said, trying a bit too hard not to laugh at his own nickname, “I don't know what expects us out there, so I need my rest too.”

“You can rest as well on the floor; oh, and it's all thanks to that nickname, by the way.” You said in an annoyed tone, escaping from his hold and getting into the bed.  

You swore you saw him pouting, and you couldn't help the little flutter of your heart. You felt bad for him, but he deserved it; in the end, you were just two academic rivals doomed to convince some sort of ruler no one ever saw to keep on funding your university—quite easy, right? 

The next morning, you started to stir awake, feeling quite cold, yet engulfed by an unfamiliar warmth. You slowly opened your eyes, only to be met with Mingi's sleeping figure next to you, one arm lazily thrown around your waist. You tried your best not to shriek, wondering how the hell did he even think of getting into the bed while you were asleep. Moving your hand towards him, you were ready to shake him until he woke up—only to realize you couldn't. He looked so peaceful, his long lashes resting gracefully on his cheeks and his hair was scattered all over his face. You have always wondered if the unspoken tension between you two had a deeper meaning, but, you pushed it aside with all the teasing and pressure between the two of you.

He opened his eyes soon after, the spark of a crimson shadow present in them. His mouth was itching to say something, but for some reason, he felt like it would ruin the moment. It was the first time you two co-existed in other proximities, with no one to judge and compare the two of you. You looked so vulnerable, with your messy hair all over the pillow, and he was sure he didn't look any better—yet, for once, he didn't care. 

“Why did you think it would be a good idea to sleep here? I thought we had a deal.” You broke the silence, recomposing yourself. 

“You seemed scared to sleep alone.” He simply smiled, getting up and ruffling his hair in an attempt to make it look better. You rolled your eyes at his joke, but apparently everything had a new beginning, so you let it slide.

After the two of you prepared for the day, you realized you should probably eat something before exploring the surroundings. 

"Are you coming for breakfast?” 

Mingi looked at you, a drink in his hand—one you didn't want to know details about; it kinda confirmed that he wasn't coming, though. 

“I could keep you company if you want.” 

You were surprised he was willing to come with you, maybe he had a fever? You just shrugged and prevented yourself from saying anything. The two of you got downstairs, admiring the beautiful scenery the hotel provided. The windows were big and clear, making it possible for the whole city to be seen out of them. You watched in awe, not noticing when the vampire disappeared. 

“Yunho!” you heard Mingi's voice and looked in the direction of the sound, seeing him hug an unknown guy. His blonde locks stood out next to the blue-haired man he was talking to, and once again—you found yourself starstruck by his beauty. His plump lips were moving with every word he said, stretching into soft smiles whenever the other guy was saying something, and you were sure that there was a side of him you didn't know. He seemed so soft and gentle—something you didn’t see before.

“Y/N, come meet Yunho!” he shouted, calling you over. “This is my old friend, we lived together for a while.” 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N! I'm working here so don't hesitate to call if you ever need something! You may sit at that table, I'll bring you your food immediately.” 

You nodded softly, giving him a small smile. 

“Oh, and I suggest you two take a walk after sunset, you won't regret it.” 

“Do you wanna take a walk?” you asked, hoping he would hear your voice, too concentrated on the words he was currently reading. 

He raised his head softly, adjusting the glasses that hung lazily on his nose. 

“Oh, isn't it The Wicked Witch of the West? Asking me for a walk?” he smirked, satisfied with your annoyed reaction. 

“You know what, you can keep on reading, I don't want you to come anymore.” 

He smiled, grabbing your hand softly. "You can't take it back now; let's go.” 

Mingi could say he was intrigued. Your presence, the way you talked—he wanted to see behind your straight A's, leaving all the pressure on your shoulders aside. Truth is—he didn't know how to get close to you, he never did. Initially, his remarks were supposed to be a way for you to let loose around each other; but it turned out to be the opposite, creating a wall of uncomfortable tension between you—and he thought that maybe, it was for the best. But you were alone now, and he hoped he could change that. 

“Do you eat kids?” 

You almost choked, stopping in your tracks and giving him a disgusted look. 

“I—what?” 

“My grandma used to read me a story about a witch living in a house made of candy and—” 

“You're delusional. No, I don't eat kids.” 

He sighed dramatically, as if he just freed himself from a horrible danger. He was sure he messed up again, but he also hoped you already got used to his antics by now and you found his question funny.

“What made you say yes to this adventure?” he asked again, your hands brushing at how close the two of you were. 

“For your information, it was never me who agreed to this, it was you, and—” 

He giggled. For the first time, you saw him giggle with all his heart, and it made you smile too. You needed to get things off your chest, so you decided opening up a bit wouldn’t hurt. 

“I wanted validation from my family. I wanted to prove myself to them, show them that I won't disappoint our coven, that I can be independent—but they weren't satisfied, I was never enough.” 

You saw a familiar glint in his eyes, a silent way to tell that he understands you, that he knows the struggle. Instinctively, his hand slowly found yours, your fingers interlocking almost as if they were made for each other. 

“My family never supported me. They never wanted me to study at Aurora, they never acknowledged me—I was always the weak one until I dared to run away. That’s how I met Yunho. I don't really have anything to prove,” he chuckled dryly, “But I still hope I will get closure from that.” 

“Damn, look at us trauma bonding, who knew?” you asked in hope to light the mood up for a bit, wrapping your hands around his waist slowly. 

You had no idea who needed this hug more, but when he wrapped his hands around you as well, you decided to enjoy the comfort, with no overthinking to be done. This was the only way you two could see the real you, stripped from all the negativity and expectations, surrounded by the desire to be validated and loved. 

The rest of the walk went smoothly, with you two finally starting to enjoy each other’s company. 

A few more days passed, with you two opening up more, realizing just how similar you were. Now, you were walking around a big castle—the castle where the ruler could change your destiny for good or bad. You and Mingi thought it would be a good idea to see it beforehand, so you wouldn't be too intimidated by the thought of being here for the first time. While you were taking in the new scenery, a soft voice called you: “Mingi, Y/N! You are early.” 

You turned your heads in unison, looking at the quite short man in front of you. His black wolf cut suited his well-sculpted jaw perfectly, and his clothes screamed such luxury that you couldn't help but think you were standing in front of The Nameless Protector, ready to faint right there (hopefully in Mingi's arms). 

“Follow me.”

You looked at Mingi, who had a look as confused as yours. Shrugging, you composed yourselves and followed the man into a room, earning a playful smirk from him. 

“I heard you needed to talk to me. Go on,” he said, though he looked like he was restraining himself from laughing. 

Something was off. 

“Excuse us for a bit,” Mingi said while dragging you aside. “Don’t you think he looks… quite unserious for such a mysterious person?” Mingi asked, looking firstly at you, then at the grand (supposedly) Nameless Protector, his look skeptical. “Like, do you think it was that easy? It seems a bit suspicious to me.”

“You’re right, he looks kinda silly. Let me do the talking,” you said in a determinate tone. 

Your steps led you in the direction of the guy, whose name was apparently Wooyoung, and all Mingi could think of was a massive "This cannot be good.” He gripped his hair, massaging his temples softly—regretting right after, and he swore he would never look away from you again—cause you were holding the poor man by his collar, slamming him on the closest wall. 

“You are not The Nameless Protector, are you? Tell us the truth!” You shouted.

“Y/N, what are you doing? You are ruining everything, stop!” 

“I won’t stop until I find the truth,” you ripped your attention from the shorter guy, turning to face Mingi: “Do you trust me with this?” 

“Yes, I trust you. With everything.” 

“You little gremlin, tell me the tru—what?” 

Pause. Mingi trusts you. The words kept replaying in your mind, surrounded by the butterflies you tried to avoid for so long. The shock you felt made you loosen your grip on Wooyoung’s collar, making him run away from you, fury spread all over his face. 

“How dare you act like that when I wanted to give you a chance and change my mind? You are ungrateful.”

Mingi looked at you, lips parted and face even paler, if that was even possible. Wooyoung kept a serious face for a while,  before bursting into laughter.

“Y’all thought it was me? Hah, you know, you are quite dumb for straight-A students.”  

The vampire clenched his fists and approached the guy, who was now trapped between you and him. 

“I knew you were too easy to find! You liar!” you shouted again, terrifying the guy who raised his hands in defeat. 

“I was paid to do this, please, don’t beat me!” 

Mingi’s eyes grew bigger and he wasn’t sure he heard that right. 

“You are so close to succeeding at this task, guys. Good luck!” Wooyoung said, then snapped his fingers and disappeared. 

What the fuck? Who was this person and how did he even know all of this? Little did you know, though, that somewhere in that castle, The Nameless Protector was watching you proudly.

You and Mingi were on a late-night walk, again. Tomorrow was finally the big day, and you were quite scared, so he wanted to ease your mind a bit. You weren't scared by the ruler per se, you were actually more scared about what would happen after, will you and Mingi go back to normal, or will something more bloom between the two of you? 

“Let's sit there!” he exclaimed excitedly, pointing to a wooden bench. 

He signaled for you to sit first, only for him to lay his head in your lap, inhaling deeply. The cold air hit your face slowly, and he swore you looked even more ethereal, with your hair moving around with the wind. 

“I never thanked you for that night; it was the first time I felt like someone understood me,” he began, playing with your fingers to keep himself occupied.

“You don't have to—” 

"Shhh, let me do the talking,” he smiled: “This little journey of ours made me realize that I never hated you, God, it's actually the other way round.” 

You could feel your heart beating louder, eyes glowing in anticipation. 

“I was so blinded by—by all these labels and all these false expectations everyone had on us, that I never really thought about what I feel,” he paused, standing up from your lap to face you properly: “But now I do. I know that for everything I want to achieve, I want to do it with you by my side. I am in love with you.” 

A familiar sting in your eyes made you notice that you were on the verge of crying because of the words of the man in front of you. If only he knew how much you regretted every bad word you said to him, every name you called him, only to realize that you would find solace in his arms; his cold touch that you grew to adore, his pale skin that you couldn’t stare enough at, his crimson eyes whenever he woke up. 

You grabbed his face softly, and you swore you could see a bit of a blush in his cheeks. Mingi felt proud; he felt like this was now his biggest achievement. He was blinded by the need to prove something—so much that he didn't pay attention to your dedication, the beautiful smile you always wore as an accessory when you were being praised, the tears and sulking whenever your spells didn't work. But he was ready to do so now. He was ready to be the one who made you smile, ready to support you with everything, without having to demonstrate anything to anyone. Just the two of you against the world. 

“I've been wanting to do this since we were on that train.” 

You both giggled, your noses touching and rubbing together, making the giggles turn into louder chuckles—a pure sound of the joy you both felt. You closed your eyes and pressed your lips on his, sealing your unspoken love with a sweet, longing kiss. He tilted your head and deepened the kiss, the hand on your back pulling you closer, and you thought you could melt right there, not getting enough of his rose petals-like lips. The two of you could feel the bond between you growing even stronger, crafted with the feelings and trust you built for each other. 

The last day of your journey finally came, and there you were again, hand in hand in front of the now familiar castle, hoping this time, your meeting would have a better outcome. 

“Together?” you asked, pressing a soft peck on his pale cheek. 

“Together,” he said, kissing your forehead. 

His lips remained on your skin for a while, before he shot you a confident smile and you two started walking towards the big door—though you felt like nothing could have prepared you for what was behind it. There they stood, on a big, black chair. The Nameless Protector and his Right Hand. Though you couldn't imagine it, it was so easy to tell them apart. The more imposing one was quite short and rather innocent-looking, yet he exuded a noble confidence—one that you were sure only a leader could bear. His silky half-black, half-white hair adorned his well-sculpted face, and you took your time to take in his soft features. His sharp nose stood out, making him look like some kind of a model, and you were sure the industry was happy he didn't choose that path. His rosy lips complimented his face beautifully, like the cherry on top, and his aura was something so unique you couldn't find words to describe it. He screamed gentleness, yet also authority—a true ruler who only looked forward, head held high, demanding respect and attention (and you were sure that, with that intimidating aura, he had it all). You saw him scrutinizing the two of you, his eyes landing on your interlocked hands. By this, you could say this was nothing but a Fae's demeanor. The other man, his Right Hand, on the other side, gave off more royal vibes. Despite being a bit taller, it was clear who really held the power. His round face made him look like a prince who was ready to rule the empire once the right time came, black boba eyes on full display. His white hair was falling gracefully on his face, fitting right in with his plump lips and soft nose. He also exuded a strong, powerful aura, but it was clear that the line between sweet and ruthless wasn’t blurry for him. He was definitely a fairy.

“You finally made it, congratulations, Mingi and Y/N!” 

The Nameless Protector exclaimed softly, giving the two of you a round of applause, accompanied by his reliable man. 

“I see the two of you have passed the test,” the fairy pointed out the way you were still holding each other's hands, his pearly white teeth showing through a sincere smile. 

You looked at Mingi, wondering if he had the same idea as you did. Was this all a test? 

“Yes, my dear. It was a test.”

Damn, you didn't voice your thoughts out loud, did you? 

“It is no lie that I wanted to stop investing so much in your university, so I asked your professors to send their most trusted students to me. I've heard about the constant rivalry between the two of you, so it intrigued me. I wanted to see how far you would go to protect your safe place, how much of each other you could stand to prove your points, how long until you notice you two are made to fight next to each other.” The Fae said softly. 

“Oh, and you also dealt with Wooyoung, so that was kind of a bonus.” The fairy giggled, making you and Mingi more relaxed as your laughter filled the room. 

“So… it was all a plan? Will you keep investing in our university?” you asked, hope audible in your voice. 

“Yes, it was a plan that succeeded, like always,” he flexed, chuckling at his own joke: “And yes. You have convinced me that your university is worth investing in. Furthermore, where would be the fun in ruling, if you two were the last students I could mess with?” 

You and Mingi completely let loose and started laughing, being interrupted by a fake cough. Oh, you ruined it all, didn't you? 

“Excuse me, sweeties, but wouldn’t you like to be part of my council?” 

[loverslantern]

Mirror- Dean Winchester x f! reader oneshot

Description: Reader doesn’t feel pretty so Dean tries to show her what he sees in the way he knows best: praise.

Warnings: It’s hot and heavy in here, inherently sexual but nothing happens, manhandling?, praise

Word count: 2k

Note: This is not only my first time writing something like this but also my first time writing something not related to The Hunter and The Witch series so please leave feedback!

  I catch my reflection on the screen of my laptop and groan. My face looks weird today. It’s just one of those days where I just couldn’t feel…pretty or nice or any other adjective. It shouldn’t matter now when I’m alone in my motel room and researching for the next hunt. There’s no one to impress in the desolate room other than the four beige walls and a creaky bed. 

  It shouldn’t matter. To be fair it shouldn’t matter in general when beauty is an objective concept, and yet it does. I do not know the psychology behind it, maybe it’s a biological thing as animals would choose the mate that’s more appealing or strong to have offspring that can survive. I shake my head, ridding myself of the thought. This would just spiral into a psychological analysis that would only make me think of it further rather than ignore it. 

  It’s an obsessive thing, isn’t it?

  Either way, I don’t like the way I look today. I couldn’t get my hair to look just right this morning and I tried so many up-do’s that my arms got sore. It still didn’t look right, so I left it down. 

  And my face just looks wrong. Maybe my eyes are too big or too small in proportion to the rest of my face. Or, maybe my jawline is too soft, perhaps I’m not rough enough. Perhaps I’m too rough. Somehow, every possible thing feels true. 

  I groan again, leaning my head back against the headboard of the bed, and squeeze my eyes shut as if it will get rid of it all. I’m meant to be focused on research. It was supposed to help. But stupid screens and their stupid reflections.

  The jingle of keys forces my eyes open, my eyes landing on my door as it clicks open. “Hey, sweetheart,” Dean greets, casually inviting himself in. 

  “Hi,” I breathe. I suppose the consequence of giving someone a spare key is that they will use said key. But, I’m not that bad of a thing considering it’s Dean who’s walking in. “I’m gonna head to a bar, you in?”

  “Eh,” I answer. “You go ahead. ‘Not feeling it tonight.”

  He eyes me for a moment, squinting just slightly. “Not even as an excuse to dress up and listen to music?” he pushes. “‘My treat.” Of course, his treat meant a fake card or money he got from hustling. But, god the way he smiles and holds his hands up as he tries to convince me is cuter than it should be. “Sorry, Dean,” I say despite the sight, “Just not feeling it.”

  His shoulders and smile drop, “Come on I’ll buy you as much (favorite drink) as you want.”

  “You can go without me you know?” I point out as he saunters over to the bed and plops himself down. “We both know you’re gonna be leaving with some random girl anyway.” 

  He rolls his eyes as he leans back on his elbows, his black shirt flexing against his muscles. He knows I’m right. “I thought Sam was the nerd,” he comments, ignoring what I said by lifting my laptop off my lap and discarding it in the empty space next to him. “Why don’t you wanna go out? ‘You feeling okay?” he asks and for a moment as his eyes scan my face, I can see the concern pass through them. 

  “Oh, I’m fine,” I insist, trying to be as convincing as possible. Yet, he sees right through me, giving me a pointed look. He’s hard to lie to. I break, shaking my head, “Fine. I just…I don’t feel pretty today so I don’t really wanna go out.”

  His eyebrows raise, his lips parting a bit as if that’s the last thing he expected me to say. “You?”

  My eyebrows furrow, head tilting in confusion, “….Yeah….” Who else?

  He studies my face again and I worry he’ll see what I’m seeing. He’ll see I’m not pretty. His features soften regardless. “Come with me,” he announces, gesturing a hand to follow as he gets up from the bed. I don’t listen, giving him a confused and cautious look. “Come on,” he insists, his voice firm. 

  I hold back my sigh as I stand from the bed. I almost didn’t want to know what he had in store. But, he doesn’t leave me with much choice but to turn back as he takes hold of my hand. His hand is big and warm as it envelopes mine, butterflies erupting in my gut at the simple touch.

  He leads me into the bathroom, his hand leaving mine to travel up my arms and to my shoulders, positioning me in front of the mirror. My hips press against the sink, his hands on my upper arms and his body close behind mine. He nearly looms over me with his tall stature, his head and eyes tilted a little down as he uses the mirror to meet my eyes. “Don’t look at me. Look at yourself,” he directs. But my eyes linger on him, on his pretty green eyes, sharp sculptured jaw, and his straight nose. His fingers tap against the skin of my upper arm, “Come on,” he encourages, his voice a little gravely. 

  I give in. He makes it so easy to give in. I pull my eyes from him and land on myself. A frown pulls on my lips as my eyes jump around my features, even my frown looks wrong. He squeezes my arms, gaining my attention back in the same second my gut lurches. “Uh-uh,” he hums. “Eyes back on you, baby.”

  Jesus. 

  Again, I force my eyes away and I can feel his burning gaze on me. “What do you see?” he asks. I scuff and roll my eyes, “Dean, I’m not—“

  His hands rub up and down my upper arms. “Just—what do you see?”

  I bite on my bottom lip. I look unamused. That’s what I’m seeing. I sigh, trying to humor him. “Myself,” I answer plainly.

  He tuts, “Not what I meant, sweetheart. What do you see that you don’t like?”

  Everything. That seems like an appropriate answer. But I can’t just say that and I don’t. I hardly want to share what I feel when it’s hard to put words to it. “How about this?” he says, his head dipping down to occupy the space by my neck, putting himself closer to my level than far above me. “I like your smile,” he admits, his voice so soft it’s like a rough whisper. “I like when you smile at me…” he squeezes my arms, “like I’m damn important.”

  “You ar—“

  “Uh-uh,” he hums again. “This is about you, baby.” 

  One of his hands drifts upwards, the muscles in his forearm flexing. The sight is nearly intoxicating as I watch it move in the mirror, resting at the base of my neck as he stands to his height again. His thumb brushes back and forth against my collarbone, his eyes downturned to his movements. “Keep watching yourself,” he reminds me. I hadn’t realized I was watching him but could you blame me?

  He presses me back against him, his body solid and warm. I wonder if he can feel the increase in my heart rate. “And your skin…always so smooth. Hardly any scars.” He presses down on the base of my neck, encouraging my head to lean back against his chest. My breath hitches.

  “Shows how careful you are, yeah?” I can almost feel his warm breath as clearly as I can feel my heart beating against my ribs. “You a careful girl?” His gaze is burning as it travels down me. “Yeah…” he drawls, eyes traveling back up. “You are.” His thumb taps once against my collarbone, reminding me to keep my eyes on myself which seems like an impossible feat now. “There you go,” he praises, his voice low. 

My skin feels warm. My everything feels warm as if I am a furnace with the sole purpose of burning and he stokes the fire, poking at it, adding wood to keep it going. 

“Those eyes,” he mumbles, and I can feel the rumble in his chest as the words protrude from his lips. “‘Damn pretty eyes. Then you give me that look…fuck.”

  My eyes flick to his, something burning deep within my gut. He doesn’t scorn me for looking away from myself. “Yeah…” he whispers, eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “That look right there. Eyes all big, your lips parted just a little.” His hand drifts up from my neck, gracing my jaw. His thumb presses on my bottom lip. “So pretty…” he mumbles. “‘Don’t know what you aren’t seeing. Can you look at yourself again baby?” 

  I do as told and my knees feel wobbly with the heat that pools within. It’s the sight of him rather than me. The sight of him practically playing with me. “Want you to know how pretty you are,” he mumbles. “How good you are. God, you’re so good.”

  His thumb is a little wet as it slips from my lip onto my chin and my neck. His lidded eyes watch the slight mess he makes, his breath a little shallower. He hums, his chest rumbling with it. “Do you know what I think?” he asks.

  “What?” I answer the single word sounding like a sigh. My eyes drop to my lips in the mirror, my bottom lip coated in a thin layer of my own saliva like a coat of lip gloss. My breasts press against my tank top, seemingly wanting to spill over with each shallow breath. The soft swells of skin peeking from the neckline. His hands drop to my hips, pushing me forward until they’re pressing into the sink with a force that knocks me forward a little, a gasp escaping my lips. I grip the sides of the sink to catch myself. His fingers press into my hips as he holds me firmly. His body looms over me as his eyes take in my bent-over form. Those stunning green eyes that usually resemble the greenery of a forest when the sun is shining through the canopy of leaves just right, now a darkened green like the parts of the forest the sun can’t reach. 

  His hands massage my hips roughly, pushing them forward before drawing them back. His eyes are downturned to the movement, his mouth parted a little in the same manner mine is. My breath is quicker, and my heart is pounding in my chest like it’s trying to escape the space behind my ribs. “What’d I say about keeping your eyes on yourself?” He says roughly despite his own distraction. I swallow roughly, forcing my eyes back on myself for the umpteenth time.   

  He continues his actions, eyes burning into my hips and my ass like nothing else matters. “I think…” he starts, circling back to answer the question he asked me before, one I forgot about. “I think it should be sinful,” the word is like a purr coming from his lips, “to look this good. To be so fucking pretty.” It should be ironic coming from him but why would he go through all this trouble, all this guiding, pushing, pressing to convince me of something he didn’t believe in? And I can see it. I can see it, through the fog of a bad day, exactly what he’s seeing, or at least part of it. 

  “Are you seeing it?” he asks in a low voice as if he saw the change in my eyes. “Yeah,” I breathe, nodding, “Yes, I see it.”

  “Good,” he answers firmly, and yet I can hear the cocky smile that no doubt threatens his lips. Then, his hand circles around the back of my neck, tangling into my hair. He squeezes just once before he’s guiding me up, straightening me out ‘till I’m standing straight again. I spin in his hold, his large hands immediately going to my hips to keep me pressed into the sink. His eyes meet mine, something written in his irises that I can’t decipher. Then, they drop to my lips and then to my chest, that cocky smile finally making its appearance as his eyes drag back up to my lips. “Where’d you learn that?” I ask.

  His smile widens as he answers, “You don’t wanna know.”

[ihfmseatsoch]

hi erm do you take requests. and if so can I pretty please get a masc reader raping Jimmy after finding out what happened to Anya fic (I want to tear this disgusting man’s ass up so bad it makes me look stupid)

OHH my gosh anon i understand you so deeply. rape that mans ass to shreds!!!!!!! i hope this is alright :3

–

Jimmy Zare x masc!reader

reader refers to themself as a guy and has a dick

genre: smut, dark fic

word count: 2.8k

warnings/content: rape, you shot jimmy in the legs lol, several mentions of anyas sexual assault, no prep, loss of virginity, (on jimmys end) (literally) hate sex, rough sex, jimmys a little crybaby, death threats

–

"Are you scared, Jim?"

You crouch to ground level with the man– no, calling him a man would imply that he has some sort of humanity left in him. The monster in front of you, both of his kneecaps wounded by the bullets you shot with your own hands, glares at you with pure vitriol.

You've actually tried pretty hard to stay in your new captains good graces these past couple months. Of course, it was only for the sake of self preservation. Who would willingly befriend such an arrogant, self-centered, pessimistic asshole like Jimmy? Besides Curly, for whatever reason.

But it wasn't until Anya, at her wits end and on the verge of yet another mental break, confided in you about her pregnancy, and her assailant; none other than Jimmy fucking Zare.

You couldn't say you were surprised that he lacked basic morality. Maybe morality can no longer apply to the situation you're all stuck in, all of you just trying to survive at whatever cost. Every man for himself, right?

Even so, monsters deserve to be punished. And luckily, Jimmy is still alive to feel whatever you force him to take. Whether it be the insults you hurl at him, or physical torture; like the bullets embedded deep in his muscles, immobilizing him, his autonomy ripped away.

"It doesn't feel good, does it? Not having the option to worm your way out of the mess you've made."

Jimmy gives you he most contemptuous, disgusted look, like you're the evil one here. He let out a frustrated growl, his voice was low and venomous. "You think you're so fuckin', righteous, huh? Acting like you're any better than me." His lips curl downwards in a sneer.

You may not be any more of a good person than he is. You've stooped to his level, after all, resorting to violence. But as the saying goes, you reap what you sow, and Jimmy has yet to pay for anything he's done. All the pain and trauma he's caused, not just to Anya, but dozens of poor women back on Earth. Men like him always get what's coming to them.

"This isn't a morality competition, Jim. We're all only human here. But you..."

Leaning in, you grip his boney jaw, forcing him to look at you, your eyes boring into his. He's terrified, you can tell.

"Honestly, you're less than dog shit."

It was clearly infuriating to him that he didn't have the ability to physically intimidate or overpower you. For once in his life, Jimmy's bravado had been shattered. He was unable to move away, to spit back his usual insults, as he was forced to stare into your cols eyes. You had the upper hand, and he hated it.

He hated being in the same position as the many others he's forced into.

His body tensed with anger as he tried to wrench his jaw out of your grasp, but your fingers dug too harshly into his skin. "Get... Get your goddamn hands off me, you... you–"

"You didn't listen to Anya when she begged you for the same thing. Isn't it ironic, the way karma works?"

The mention of Anya seemed to hit a nerve within him, his blood running cold, frigid through his veins. "I told her to keep her stupid mouth shu– fuck!–" A stabbing pain shot through his legs, causing his face to contort in agony.

Despite the pain and the fear welling up within him, he forced himself to speak through clenched teeth. "Shut... Shut the fuck up. Stop talking like you– like you know anything."

"I know enough. So does Swansea. Curly too, for what it's worth. Even if the useless fucker didn't do anything to reprimand you." You shove Jimmy onto his back, his head hitting the cold steel floor with a dull thud, hard enough to make him woozy for a moment. You can't find any empathy inside of you to care. As far as you're concerned, the creature in front of you isn't a person.

Clicking your tongue at the sight of him, you crawl over to his pathetic, writhing body, hovering above him. "Guess it's up to me to give you what's been comin' to you for a long fucking time, huh?"

Jimmy hissed in pain and tried, in vain, to scoot himself away, but his wounded legs refused to move, and he found himself trapped between you and the floor. For the first time in his life, he was in the position of a powerless victim.

His voice comes out embarrassingly strained and weak, "What're you gonna do, then? Kill me? You think that's the worst thing you could do to me? I've been ready to die. You'd be doin' me a fuckin' favor."

You dig your knee into his groin, putting a painful amount of weight onto him, a sharp cry escaping his lungs. "No. You don't deserve to die, that'd just give you a way out." Your hand reaches up to his neck, squeezing his windpipe just enough to make him struggle to breathe.

"I'm keeping you alive so you can feel every single thing I do to you."

Jimmy clawed uselessly at your hand, frantically trying to pry it away from his throat, the only thing he could manage to do with his legs unable to kick or thrash. "S– Stop–! Ghhkk– Don't–"

"You still think you deserve mercy? That's cute, Jim."

You roughly yank the buttons of his coveralls out of their loops, tearing away the first layer of protection he had between you and him. Not that the uniforms Pony Express gave you acted as a safeguard in the first place.

Jimmy feels exposed, vulnerable in a way he's never experienced before. Suddenly, he's very aware of the fact that he's at your mercy, and he can't do anything to stop you. Fear began to creep in, and he started to hyperventilate, panicked and desperate as he choked out a reply,

"I– I said s– stop, you fucking– I swear, when I can walk again, I'll–" He sputters, his sentence coming out broken and raspy from the pressure on his neck. You let go, only so you can focus on getting him undressed. He intakes a large gasp of air, coughing hoarsely.

"You'll what? What're you gonna do, Jimmy?" You mock him, keeping your tone extra condescending just to rub the humiliation in even more. "I'll tell you how this is gonna go; you're not walking for a good, long while. That's just reality, so get used to it."

You tug at his clothes until, albeit with a lot of struggle and fighting against Jimmy's flailing, his uniform is bunched around his ankles, leaving him in his grey long sleeve and underwear.

"And, while you're incapacitated– You grunt as you tug his boots off, throwing them carelessly aside to make it easier to slip the garment completely off his body.

"I think you can guess what's gonna happen to you."

Jimmy's face pales as the realization of what you plan on doing fully dawns on him. His heart drops to the pit of his stomach, dread sinking into his gut. He can't escape this. "Wait, h– hold on, you can't– We... We can talk this through, just– get off of me–"

"I'm guessing you've never been with a guy before, huh? Nah, you're too... 'macho' for that." You flip him over, a sharp, throbbing pain rushing through his knees as he's forced to put pressure on his wounds to prop himself up. "Might as well give you your first experience before we all die here, yeah?"

Jimmy tries to scramble away from you, but his wounded legs barely move an inch. He cries out in agony, his eyes welling up with tears from the excruciating pain in his joints. He looks over his shoulder at you, his eyes wide, filled with fear.

"No, Wait, stop–! Don't– You can't do this, please, I–" He tried to keep his voice hard and defiant, but terror had seeped into it, causing his words to quiver and falter.

"Oh, I can't, but you can?" You scoff at his ability to still be a raging hypocrite, even in the position he's in. "You think the world bends to your fuckin' will, don't you? Curly sure did. Maybe that's what makes you feel so entitled. You were enabled."

With a swift tug, his fabric is pulled down just enough to expose his ass to you. "Not anymore. Never again."

Jimmy's pride, the only thing he had left, had begun to crumble beneath him.

He's scared.

He prayed for someone, anyone, to intervene in the situation. But the cargo hold was empty, devoid of any soul besides you two. Jimmy choked back a sob, his vision growing blurry with tears. His voice was strained as he pleaded, "P– Please, d– don't do this. I'm... I'm sorry–"

Completely ignoring his incessant pleas at this point, you carelessly fondle his ass, roughly handling what little amount of fat his had on his bones. "Oh, I'm sure." You mumble, your sarcasm audible.

Spreading his cheeks apart, you make a 'tsk' sound at the sight of his tight, untouched virgin asshole. "Sheesh, that's gonna be a tight fit." You speak your thoughts aloud, just to make his face burn redder with utter humiliation. He could vomit right now.

"I swear, I'm gonna fucking kill you." He snarls, voice breaking with the emphasis he put on the word 'kill', his teary eyed glare full of unadulterated disdain and loathing for you. "I'll find a way. I'll find a way to blow your fucking brains out."

He can't even move, and yet he's still trying to get the upper hand, as if he's some kind of cornered dog, snarling and snapping at your heels in defiance to the very end.

"Mhm." You don't take him seriously, knowing that without serious medical attention, which Anya obviously won't be providing, he's essentially screwed, for a lack of a proper description of his situation. You palm your semi-hard dick, stroking the outline of your length through the fabric. You hate this man, you really do, but you can't deny the excitement you feel from giving someone like him a taste of his own medicine.

You can't tell yourself it won't be satisfying to make him feel everything Anya felt, because it will. It will be the most gratifying thing you ever do.

You gather up a wad of spit in your mouth before spitting on his hole, saliva being only available lubricant. It may not be the best, but he doesn't deserve the comfort a proper lube would give him anyway. He physically cringes at the feeling.

"I'm not gonna bother prepping you. That'd be too nice." You considered not even warning him of this, but you liked seeing him scared. You liked seeing the way his breathing picked up in panic, his heart rate bordering on tachycardia.

"Fuck you," he spat with the hostility of a rabid dog. "You're gonna regret this. I won't let you–"

Jimmy's empty threats are interrupted when he feels the head of your dick prodding at his hole, and you chuckle lowly at his shudder. "Shhh. All you've gotta worry about from now on is getting me off."

Before he can even think, you're already pushing yourself inside him. The sting is unlike any kind of pain he's ever felt, even compared to his current wounds, which have actually gone half numb from the sheer amount of pain they're in. Jimmy cries out a broken wail, gritting his teeth, his tears pooling onto the floor as he squeezes his eyes shut.

You groan as you struggle to fit inside him even halfway, spitting on his hole again for good measure. "Hah– holy shit, Jim. I can already tell you won't be a half bad fleshlight for me."

Jimmy trembles from the utter discomfort he feels from the unwelcome penetration. He wants to scream, but all that comes out is pathetic, choked sobs, his cheek laying in a puddle of his own tears. "Fuck you, fuck you..." He snivels, blubbering.

You hardly even acknowledge him as he weeps, managing to jam yourself halfway inside him, his walls clenching like a vice around your shaft. "God, you're probably tighter than a girl." You laugh, your palm coming down harshly on his ass, just so you can watch him jolt. You snake a hand around his torso to grab his cock, noticing it's flaccidity. "Damn, you're not even hard," You comment without much sympathy, simply verbalizing your observation, "Not that I care, but it'd be funny if you got off on this too."

Jimmy, unable to recoil out of your grasp, can only cringe harder than he ever has. "You're sick," he hissed, "I'll tell everyone, you can't get away with–"

"You really think any of them will feel bad for you?" You roll your eyes in annoyance, growing tired of how irksome he is. "Jeez, I wish I could gag you with something. You're the most concieted egomaniac–" You grunt as you snap your hips against his, your dick shoved to the hilt inside him, "–That I have ever met."

Jimmy ceases his griping for once, laying there like a defenseless ragdoll. What else can he do? He's short of options, a plan, support... he has nothing. Nothing and no one will save him this time. The inside of his hole aches excruciatingly, agony washing over his entire body, his neck is cricked to the side, irritating the muscle which is sure to be unbearably tender later. A lasting reminder of how weak he really is.

His hole loosens to take your cock as you thrust with an impetuous rhythm, hearing him whine at every brutish snap of your hips. The way his slick walls drag along your shaft makes you feel a fervid sense of carnality, knowing you've reduced him to a mere object. A receptacle. "Fuck, I didn't think you'd feel this good. That's something you've got going for you." You utter throatily, groping his hips to pull him back and forth on your dick.

He wants to die. He wishes you would've just killed him and threw his bloated corpse out of the airlock, never to be seen again in the vast outskirts of space. Shit, he would've been fine with you just abandoning him to rot in here alone. But he hasn't earned your mercy, or anyone's. Jimmy feels every inch of your cock violating and slamming carelessly deep inside him

"I hope this hurts." You confirm scornfully that yes, you're aware he's in pain, and you're very pleased with yourself. "This is exactly what she felt, and this is exactly what you deserve."

Jimmy silently prays to a god he's never believed in to make you stop, or just cum already and be done with him. "Ple–ease...–" he finds himself mewling miserably, running out of both the tears, and strength to cry. He finds himself completely detaching from reality, clinging onto the hope that this will be over soon. If he can live through this, he'll be okay. His dissociative, quiet state makes it all the more easy for you to ignore his humanity.

You feel the familiar buildup of warmth stirring in your gut, balls tightening annoyingly soon. You wanted to prolong his suffering, but you've been just as pent up as anyone else would be during an 8+ month long haul. The difference between you and Jimmy was that you could hold back and not give into your own selfish desires.

Another difference between you two is that you can get away with this, not suffering from any ramifications. But him? If you're all miraculously saved from this hell you're trapped in, he won't be exempt from the consequences of his actions. The other, less favourable outcome being the ship runs out of oxygen and food, and you're all forced to die slowly, but the one positive aspect is that Jimmy still wouldn't be getting out scott free. In every way, he lost.

With a drawn out growl, you fill him to the brim with warm, thick ropes of cum. When you catch your breath and pull out, you watch the sticky, white substance seep from his gaping hole. It drips down his shaking thighs, which collapse under him, and he falls to his side, curled up in a piteous ball, hugging himself tightly and hiding his face as he tries to ignore the throbbing pain in his ass and imagine himself somewhere else. Though, he doesn't exactly know where to escape to. He's never had a 'happy place', so to speak.

Picking yourself up off the ground and brushing yourself off, you tut at the comical display of cowardice in front of you. You kick his quivering body in the ribcage for good measure as you tuck yourself back into your uniform.

"See you next time, Captain." You sneer, speaking to him with shocking casualness, leaving the cargo hold without a second glance back at him.

The words "next time" replay tauntingly in his head as he lay there, paralyzed with terror.

–

[unknownperson246]

a/n: Izzy with a girlfriend that has big boobs (like E cup bc I be struggling to survive out here with these things) and he kind of has a thing for them. One night he takes her out with him and the band to a bar and he slowly notices that his bandmates keep staring at her boobs, and eventually (I'mma say Axl does this bc he seems like the type) Axl makes an extremely perverted joke regarding her boobs and it irritates Izzy so much he drags reader home and rails her so hard her legs are shaking the next morning. Also can you write in that he leave hickeys on her yiddies maybe..? TY have an amazing day/night 😊

Dragged:

words: 690

warnings: *smut* *rough sex* *slight praise kink* *drinking (small drinks)*

✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:*

You were embarrassed everywhere you went. It wasn’t embarrassment, it was just your shyness. You had a really big chest and a more than pleasant rack. You were always stared at by men wherever you went. Many women envied you not only because you were with a man that almost every woman wanted but because you had good looks. One night Izzy took you with him to a bar the band usually went to every Friday night.

“Hey babe, what do you want to drink?” He asked.

“Whatever you want to” You smiled slightly.

Izzy didn’t reply. Izzy knew you got nervous quite a bit and easily too. Maybe it was because there were so many people around at a bar on Friday night. You looked towards Steven and Slash. You caught them looking at your chest but you didn’t mind. You were so used to being stared at by perverted men. You just didn’t have the energy anymore to tell them to back off.

Izzy heard you mumble something about Slash and Steven but decided to ignore it. Izzy did not yet realize that everyone in his band was staring at you. The first time Izzy saw Duff look at your chest he ignored it because he thought Duff could’ve been staring at something else next to you. This time he caught all of the members looking at your chest at the same time.

Once they realized Izzy noticed they looked away immediately pretending they were doing something else. Axl started to speak. Axl said a perverted joke about your chest.

This was Izzy’s final straw. He did not like what Axl said about you. He got really mad. He got irritated. Before he even said anything he grabbed your arm and walked away from the group. He started to drag you to the car.

“Izzy, what’s gotten into you?” You ask softly and not annoyed so you don’t piss Izzy off more.

Izzy didn’t respond to your question.

“You know whatever happened wasn’t my fault right?” You told Izzy.

“Axl is just a perverted man,” You said to Izzy.

“Yeah, I know!” Izzy mumbled under his breath.

Izzy didn’t say anything for the rest of the car ride. As soon as you got inside the house he dragged you upstairs. You saw a bulge from underneath just by him being rough with you.

“Get upstairs and get ready to be fucked so good,” Izzy said.

You were left speechless and just did what he asked. You went upstairs preparing yourself for what Izzy was about to do to you. You dressed up in some lingerie and started to brush your teeth and your hair. Izzy came up to you and didn’t say anything; he just started to kiss your neck.

You kept touching his hard member to have more of an effect on him. You took his shirt off and he kept playing with both of your full and round tits. He started to kiss them super hard and you could feel yourself getting wet.

You thought you would have an orgasm off of him kissing your tits alone. He removed your shirt and bra. He removed your panties and you were embarrassingly wet.

“Fuck Izzy so good” You moaned.

With your words of confirmation, he just kept going and kept going.

You played with his hair. You felt disappointed when he took his hands off your tits. He started to unbuckle his pants.

“So wet for me darling.” Izzy sighed.

Izzy stuck his cock up inside of you. As he was thrusting up inside of you he played with your chest again. You noticed four hickeys on your tits.

“Izzy so good,” you moaned.

You held onto his shoulders while he did most of the work. You heard grunts and moans coming out of his mouth.

“Rail me so good baby” you moaned.

“Such a good girl,” Izzy said, playing with your hair as he thrust in.

Once you both were finally done he railed you so good you couldn’t walk for a week. Once you woke up the next morning you could feel your legs shaking.

[hermanoga]

It's Kinda Nice to Help People Find Their Precious Thing : The timeless journey of love, regret, trust, death and hope through Shiguang's life in Link Click Yingdu Episode 1

part -1

It's a very personal rambling actually, not a very critically sound one, if you still wanna read, just letting you know, you are not alone, I went through a lifetime of emotions while watching this.

What’s wrong with the timeline? : Before discussing this, I want to talk about Lu Guang’s age. I have this formula,

Lg’s age : X + 3n, X= his original age, n= the number of times he has dived back in the past to reach the situation of our timeline where Cheng Xiaoshi survived season 1 and made it to the end of the season 2. I am presuming that ‘n times Cheng Xiaoshi dies’ stopped in our timeline, so let us denote our timeline as ‘n*’, which has successfully changed Cheng Xiaoshi’s fate. (For people thinking, where did I get that ‘3’ in my formula, the episode of the lost child in season 1 says that the kidnapping of that little boy happened three years ago, when Shiguang were supposed to be in Yingdu. Basically Shiguang first met and went to Yingdu in 2018.)

The first four minutes of the episode 1 (Successfully made me cry like a wounded hyena left in the middle of a cold desert): What timeline is it? It is one of those timelines of ‘n’ where Cheng Xiaoshi died. Cheng Xiaoshi dies in every nth timeline, except n*. The first time he dies, let us call that timeline ‘n0’. And the first four minutes, let’s suppose it is nEp-1. Is n0 = nEp-1? If yes, then why Vein is punishing Lu Guang for changing the past? It implies that Lu Guang attempted (and succeeded kind of? since he is accused of changing the past) to change the past before? Why would he? For what reason? I have an answer to this convoluted question – Vein is punishing a past Lu Guang (‘innocent’ Lu Guang who didn’t dive and do shit) for the deeds a future Lu Guang committed. Eh? Every theory I suggest contradict with the thing I say next.

Still what I feel is that the narrator Lu Guang who gives the ‘butterfly effect’ speech is not the one who dives in the given visual. The hesitation in the visual suggests that Lu Guang is diving for the first time. I don’t have galaxy brains to understand the timeline theory anyways. And it is probably too early to start guessing.

Basketball symbolism: Life, death, trust, partnership.

I think now we all understand that the basketball motif really stands for a deeper philosophy of life and companionship. And Haoling actually puts that theme in big fat words in case someone missed, “It is so precious to have a trustworthy partner in life”. It is not about basketball. The exposition of first 1 minute 25 seconds deals with it.

1:26 – I howled. That’s not the point. The point is that Vein is actually interested in shooting Lu Guang, he wants his life, not Cheng Xiaoshi’s, he just physically defeats him. (My poor kitty, what the fuck did you do to deserve this, if my theory is right then…). Cheng Xiaoshi fucking dives to take the bullet.

Now, um. Why am I re-watching this? Cheng Xiaoshi dies and transfers his diving power to Lu Guang, the basketball symbolism recurs. Qiao Ling is dead and captain Xiao is dead too. Good. Cheng Xiaoshi says sorry for some reason and asks Lu Guang to save ‘them’, it’s his death wish. So, I am presuming that Lu Guang started diving because it was Cheng Xiaoshi’s last wish to Lu Guang (I need ibuprofen). From my perspective, Lu Guang when he dives, he is not sure what he is able to achieve. He probably goes back to the past just to relive those moments, those three years again. If everything goes well (LMAO my audacity) and Cheng Xiaoshi survives in this Yingdu arc, I am presuming that is our story then will be directly continuing in the two seasons.

Now let us heal a bit. First of all, congratulations to all, Lu Guang is gay. I don’t care what anyone opines, he is gay. He is the owner of that freaking Shakespearean sonnet book and he is the literal tsundere, come on, guys, it should be canon now.

Lu Guang holds his hand as if trying to say, “Please, don’t go”.

You are in acute denial if you say the visuals are not romantic. The white butterfly sits on the basketball he is holding.

That visual is so pretty! The butterflies remind me of tgcf ngl.

Bro, what kind of house does he live in. He is damn rich.

Cheng Xiaoshi : Partner, lets play basketball together again tomorrow. And the content smile Cheng Xiaoshi gives.

Still, somehow, The Eye is the most moving piece of animation I have ever seen, it feels like life with all heartaches and smiles present. I will carry this song with me till the end of time.

Oh, also. How are Vein fans doing? Just checking :D

This song is causing me physical angst.

I wish I can cosplay in my uni’s anime club’s event one day.

Okay so, a friend of mine pointed out that Lu Guang cosplayed as the hero of that RanXi chronicles when there was an attempt to dress Xiaoshi as the heroine. Ok.

Lu Guang checking that damn watch once in a while breaks my heart.

Parallel narrative, foil characters again – metanarrative, two-folded narrative embedded within the narrative (that girl’s story about perseverance, hope, regret, passion, taking the damn risk and further hope, story of RanXi chronicles and Lu Guang explicitly saying how he relates to the story of RanXi’s heroine)

Now I am saying again, I am Sapphic and Qiao Ling, that is Sapphic behaviour, my love, me and my Sapphic friends approve. “That girl is so lovely” the way she says it. AND YES QUEEN! Link Click never forgets to address social issues. Btw, I personally related to that girl when she was rebuked vehemently for voicing her career choice. My acceptance of what I really wanted to do in my life and pursuing it changed the trajectory of my life too. Life is not a flower path but “there are no regrets in dedicating your life to something you care about” – again it echoes the central theme of link click.

Also, (with a shiver) I am realising how the interpretation of the first and second season is rapidly changing (and I like it).

Cheng Xiaoshi, are you jealous?

The chibi shifts are so cute!

Lu Guang has this deep sense of lack of agency, understandable because it arises from the agony of the death of a loved one and this depressive existentialist mood makes him conform to the ‘power’, even though he can be rebellious but that threshold is only initiated with Cheng Xiaoshi’s active intervention.

Again saying, idk what kind of concept of queerness people (most of them who are not queer at all, how do they know what queerness is? How are you dictating?) have, but your friend’s image reflecting in your eyes when he brings a moral and ideological change to your mind and shatters your conformity, that surely is. This continuously happens in season 1 and 2, but we don’t get to know, you know why? Lu Guang’s pov was silenced deliberately. Without him soliloquizing, it’s impossible to know what his real emotional undercurrent is. The way Haoling crafted Lu Guang as a complex and delicate character, man. Man, I would die for him.

Btw, I too agree that putting a hand over his mouth is the second best option to silence him.

Ik it's bittersweet, but princess Guang-guang, don't run away from your fated prince! ( HOW THE FUCK AM I CRYING AGAIN)

this roughly wraps up to 34:30. I can't do more pain today, maybe tomorrow.

[what-have-i-unleashed]

three cheers for your ego

hello mtt nation, i am here with my promised angsty christmas fic, as part of my defeat of my evil twin in the twinter war (i am the better twin now obviously). enjoy, and happy holidays >:3

When Sans comes back home from a tiring scouting mission, he immediately notices something is off. The food rations he’s so sure were left near the kitchen entryway are gone. That meager bits of fresh meat he’s scraped together for Gyftmas just simply… disappeared.

“what happened to the food?” he asked, already dreading the answer.

His younger brother, seated on the sofa in the living room, flinches but doesn’t look away from his intense blood red gaze. His hands twist nervously in his lap. “I… I GAVE IT TO THE BUNNIES.”

“you what?” Sans says, voice deceptively quiet. His whole body goes rigid and his fists clenches, threatening to break off the door handle he’s gripping.

“THEY NEED IT MORE THAN WE DID – THAN I DID,” Papyrus replies, his voice carefully laced with a tone of defiance that is not very helpful right now. “AND… IT’S GYFTMAS.”

Sans thunders across the room as he stands before papyrus, his teeth clenched so hard he can hear them grinding in his skull. “what does that even mean?! who the hell cares if it’s gyftmas?! that was all we had! do you understand what you’ve done?!”

Papyrus shoots up on his feet, his frame towering over Sans’ short stature. Sans unconsciously takes a step back, momentarily surprised by his brother’s reaction.

“I UNDERSTAND PERFECTLY,” Papyrus says, his voice low and steady. “THEY HAVE KIDS, SANS. LITTLE ONES. AND THEY ARE HUNGRY AND COLD. DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO NOTHING? TO TURN MY BACK ON THEM?”

“yes!” Sans snaps. “exactly that! if we starve, who’s gonna save us? who’s gonna keep you alive?!”

Papyrus’ face twists in discomfort, but he stands his ground. “I DO THINK ABOUT IT, BROTHER,” he says, his voice soft. “IT’S UNCOMFORTABLE TO THINK ABOUT. BUT, WHAT’S THE POINT OF SURVIVING IF WE’RE JUST… CANNIBALIZING EACH OTHER IN THE PROCESS, LIKE WHAT’S HAPPENING IN OTHER PLACES? IN SNOWDIN, WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE A COMMUNITY, SANS.”

“oh, spare me the sentimental piece,” Sans growls. “do you know how hard it is to get food around here? and you just threw it away to some family who wouldn’t lift a finger to help us if the tables were turned!”

“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT!” Papyrus shoots back, his voice slightly trembling. “KINDNESS STILL EXISTS! NOT EVERYONE IS LIKE YOU!”

The words hang in the air like a shotgun. Papyrus looks shocked at what came out of his mouth, but he doesn’t look sorry. Sans stares back at him, mouth open like he’s about to say something, but then he stops. Without a word, he turns on his heel and storms towards the door, anger rolling from him in waves.

“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” Papyrus demands, rushing to block Sans’ path. Sans glares at him, irritated.

“where do you think?” he hisses, his eye narrowing dangerously. “i’m taking our food back.”

“YOU’RE GOING TO ROB THEM?!” Papyrus gasps, disbelief making way to horror. “THEY HAVE KIDS, SANS!! AND THEY HAVE NOTHING TO EAT!!”

“well, too bad then,” Sans spits. “no one steals from me. and the bunnies will learn real quick what happens when someone does. they’re gonna have a mad time.” A feral grin spreads across his face.

Papyrus stands in front of the door, defiant. “NO.”

“out of my way, paps.”

“NO! I WON’T LET YOU!”

“you think you can stop me? i can easily shortcut pass you.”

“I KNOW! BUT IT’S THE PRINCIPLE OF THE THING, AS YOUR BROTHER! IF YOU CROSS ME, I’LL WHACK YOU TIL YOU SEE SOME SENSE IN THAT CRACKED HEAD OF YOURS!!” Papyrus crosses his arms, disapproving.

“you think you’re so much better than me? you think you can survive on morals alone?”

“NO,” Papyrus replies, his voice soft. “I JUST WANT TO BE BETTER THAN THIS.”

After an eternity, Sans drops his coat and lies on the sofa, the tension in the room lessening but still palpable.

“well, merry fucking gyftmas then,” he mutters. “i hope you’re happy with this.”

The frozen streets are silent, blanketed with layers of dust and snow. The streetlights flicker weakly as Sans makes his way towards the party venue and his favorite spot in Snowdin – Grillby’s. The place is quiet and empty, but bears a feast of dusty wine bottles, cold cinnabuns, and some canned goods. Sans hums a strange, broken tune as he prepares the table.

“paps, do you think this will be enough?” he asks, holding up a container of homemade soup he made by himself. He turns to the younger skeleton lingering near the jukebox, whose face is skeptical but amused.

“I THINK THAT SHOULD SUFFICE, BROTHER!” Papyrus says. “NO ONE WOULD EXPECT MUCH FROM YOU LAZYBONES, SO NO NEED TO BE SO WORRIED!”

Sans chuckles, putting the soup container onto the table. “you’re right, paps. shouldn’t be too important how it tastes – it’s the intention that counts.”

He walks up to the jukebox to see if it still works. A bit rusty from underuse, but he can fix it in a flash, no problem.

As he works, Papyrus trails behind him, his voice teasing. “WOW, YOU’RE REALLY PUTTING IT ALL THIS YEAR OF ALL TIME, HUH? FOOD, DECORATION, MUSIC, ALL THAT JAZZ. NYEH-HEH-HEH!”

“ha, good one, paps,” Murder snorts, then in a softer tone he continues. “it’s gyftmas. it’s supposed to be a special day. i guess… i just wanted to do something different, something new, this time. something nice. for you. for everyone else too.”

The next minutes are draped in silence, but the more comforting kind as Sans tinkers with the jukebox. Papyrus’ voice breaks it for just a moment. “IT’S WEIRD SEEING YOU SO… SENTIMENTAL.”

Sans doesn’t answer, busying himself with fixing the broken machine and then with arranging cracked plates and mismatched cutlery. He tries to be as meticulous as possible, careful not to disturb the frail air of festivity he has created in this small space. It should be a wonderful day today after all.

When everything is done, Sans sits in his place, reserving the place next to him for his brother. No one has arrived yet, but he guesses he can always start the feast early, a private celebration between him and Papyrus.

He pours a glass of wine for himself, then one for his brother. Papyrus looks a bit affronted at being offered a drink, but he doesn’t complain, so that should be good enough.

“a toast.” Sans raises his glass. “to time. to the end of a year. to family. to… the ones we’ve lost.” He clinks his glass softly against Papyrus, who doesn’t pick it up but does sigh, an exasperatedly fond sound.

“to you, sans. to your newfound resolution. and holding on to your goal for once in your life.”

Sans drinks, and drinks even more. The guests start to pour in, their voices echoing around him but muffled as if he was underwater. Only Papyrus is clear in the cacophony – a beacon of light he can hold onto in this strange but joyous time. Sans laughs at the jokes coming from Papyrus, his voice bouncing off the walls of the bar. He smiles as he listens to Papyrus recount the things he can’t be sure are real in his inebriated state – childhood memories, plans for the future, a warmth that doesn’t spread to his snow-soaked bones anymore.

So, he drinks again. And again. And again.

As the nights wear on, some things start to slip through to his foggy mind. Plates that remain untouched. Wine bottles that remain unpoured. The soup he made sit alone on the table, growing colder by the second.

And yet, Sans still smiles. At his brother, who hasn’t changed at all. “thanks for staying this time,” he whispers, trying to touch Papyrus’ hand but stopping at the last moment, the distance between them so small yet so inexplicably big at the same time.

“OF COURSE, SANS,” Papyrus says, a faint grin on his severed skull. “I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE.”

It has been raining snow a lot these past few days in the town. A normal monster would be freezing out in the snow, but, well, he’s hardly a normal monster anymore, is he? Few things phase him at this point, and the cold isn’t one of them.

He knows he isn’t supposed to get close to anyone, but he can’t help it when his friend hasn’t been here with him for months now and the light show in the snowy town is too tantalizing to pass up. So he goes in, wearing a large puffy coat and some hat and scarf to cover his whole face up – a perfect disguise. Now he looks like one of the children playing around near the big tree in the town center. Just a normal, socially awkward child standing near a building, watching his peers mess around from afar. It isn’t exactly fun, but it’s something to do to sate off the gnawing boredom in his chest.

And then, he sees them again.

A skeleton monster just like him – how peculiar. He was interested of course, but something has held him back, something nagging at him at the back of his mind. He can’t name it exactly, but it makes his SOUL pang uncomfortably in his ribs, as if warning him of something. So, he is content with just staying back, idly watching the scene play out.

The strange skeleton monster has been doing this for days – asking people around about their sibling, someone with a name that keeps slipping away from his mind. Again, how odd. Everything about this skeleton monster is odd, from the way they tower over most people yet never intimidate anyone, to the way they enthusiastically play and talk with the town’s children like it’s second nature to them. They’re an opposite of him, and yet-

Ah, whatever. It’s no use thinking about it anyway.

He watches as the skeleton monster again asking the townsfolk about their brother again. And again no one has any clue where the missing person can be. The monster looks dejected, but only for a moment. The resilience… it would be heartwarming to see if he had one.

He subconsciously takes a few steps when the monster finally stops at the giant tree with presents underneath it. He has taken some of the presents for himself, and no one seems to have noticed so far. The skeleton monster looks up at the tree, which has a star on top of it. When he gets just close enough, he can vaguely make out what they’re saying.

“-I WISH THAT THIS GYFTMAS, MY BROTHER WILL RETURN HOME! HE STILL HASN’T PICKED UP HIS SOCKS, NYEH!” the monster grumbles, then in a softer tone continues with a mournful sigh. “… I WISH I HAD SEEN THE SIGNS. HE HASN’T ALWAYS BEEN THE MOST CHEERFUL PERSON, BUT I THOUGHT HE’D TELL ME IF SOMETHING’S WRONG. I DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED… I DON’T KNOW WHY HE LEFT… I FEAR THAT- NO, THAT’S- I WOULD KNOW ABOUT IT, SURELY!”

The phantom watches the whole scene slow around him. There’s something about this monster that feels familiar to him yet fills him with dread. They’re… weak. Vulnerable. Sentimental to a fault. In this world, it’s kill or be killed. Eat or be eaten. There’s no place for kindness when everyone is out to get you.

But, looking at this monster, whose eyelights sparkle under the lights, he feels an urge to avert his eyes, something clawing at his red-hot deadened SOUL. A memory flickers in his jumbled mind: his friend showing him the real stars on the surface, twinkling like their carefree eyes.

Ah, isn’t he forgetting something?

He turns away, boots crunching in the snow as he disappears into the shadows. This is just a distraction – a fun yet trivial thought experiment. But the image of the monster standing under the Gyftmas tree, wishing for something impossible, stays in his mind long after he’s gone.

[nicoleanell]

(actual link to gif set because tumblr's being weird)

Man it's the fact this statement is weirdly big and generous and brave in Armand's mind. I think it was Assad or someone else who said it was a moment of overconfidence or almost gloating, which is not the exact vibe I get, but I think there's something to that big-headedness of having survived and gotten through it and it's over now and just... He just wants to see. He just wants to skip that little stone down the cliff and see what happens. Maybe if nothing happens *then* he would actually be able to exhale. (He will not. He'd find something else. There's an itch in him that's never going to be secure enough in the bed he made.) Maybe it's just wanting to test something - Louis or himself or how many ways he can't die.

People tie it directly to Armand not being able to say the words in 2x05, which is probably intentional, but also it's not *exactly* the same because for one thing it's in the Past Tense now. It's very much meant as a moment of *closure* - he DID love you, past tense, we don't know where he is or how he feels now and that doesn't matter - while in San Francisco with Lestat right there on the mind telephone, it was the present tense terror that maybe that really was all Louis needed to hear to go running back to him.

But their relationship has also changed SO dramatically since San Francisco that it feels like even the past-tense version is a very, very precarious thing to admit. Because it's not about the material love triangle, it's not who-will-Bella-Swan-choose, it's about 70 years of mythmaking and storytelling.

SIDEBAR: The show left us IMO with a very frustrating ambiguity about the extent to which Armand has used his mind powers on Louis, like to the point where you have some fans believing that *every single fucking memory* we saw onscreen that they didn't like for the last two seasons is Fake News actually, and other fans believing it happened Just That One Time GOD. (I personally lean toward way *less* mind manipulation than other people assume, and if it was literally JUST the shit that happened in 1973 that's... enough to be messed up lol. I think the "love of my life" and finishing each other's sentences scenes have some unsettling implications. I *don't* think Louis having imperfect recall and limited perspective of stuff that happened a century ago is because of Armand all or even *most* of the time.)

But the fact no matter what is that Louis has a lot of cognitive dissonance around Lestat because he WANTS it acknowledged on some bone-deep level that Lestat loved him, because he loved/continues to love him too. And if we're gonna insist on throwing the word "gaslighting" around when we just mean "lying", then at the end of the day it's about Louis being told he's not crazy by someone who has at times made him feel that way.

Idk maybe this is me getting Too Deep about a finale I still think is kinda unsatisfying and already had way too much to do with Lestat and not enough with Claudia. But I do like that moment when I look past the toxic love triangle and more toward "hey buddy [my best friend Armand] why are you Like That" and Louis' little smile breaking my heart.

Something sad about that moment is Armand's right that saying those words *doesn't* end the world, and if nothing else had happened and Daniel and the Vampire CIA weren't on their divorce-attorney kick, that'd be the end of it. (Hot take I don't think saying the words or not in 1973 would've really made a difference either, and there's so much more nuanced and wild shit going on there than an undelivered message romcom beat.) And Louis would be *grateful* for that moment of understanding and closure between them.

[miss-conjayniality]

enhyungline as mariah carey songs 🦋🌟

genre: fluff. PURE FLUFF!

pairing: enhyungline x gn!reader

word count: 1766

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS DAAHHHLLIINGSSS!!! 🌟omfg i meant to post this over a week ago 😭 but I’ve been soooo fawking busy with life and I got sick but I’m all good now so here y’all go! as a huge engene AND lambily, I wanted to pay tribute to the queen of christmas by assigning different songs by her to our beloved enhyungline! 🩷 christmas may be almost over but mariah’s got a vast catalogue that’s classic, timeless, and sonically diverse. i’m a mimi stan all year round dahhlliinnggss 💅🏼 I’ve been meaning to do this for a while too🫣

also…can we fucking TALK about how enhypen dropped an EP called daydream, which also happens to share the same name as one of mimi’s BEST ALBUMS EVER!?!?? GOOD FUCKING GOD!!!! THEY DID THIS SHIT FOR ME ISTG!!!!

ALSO….i definitely didn’t cry or get delusional while writing this🤠🫣

P.S.: heeriah leerey IS in fact mariah’s adoptive son. I SAID WHAT I SAID! PERIODT.

HEESEUNG: MUSIC BOX.

“when i am lost, you shine a light for me and set me free. when i am low, you wash away my tears and take me through the loneliness and emptiness. through the darkest nights, somehow i survive through it all”

“your love is strong enough to lift me up. if i’m afraid, oh baby. you chase away my fears and take me to a brighter place.”

do you remember those music boxes you loved during your childhood years because they would open up to little angels dancing around in circles to melodious tunes? heeseung is exactly that - in human form. being around him evokes feelings of nostalgia and comfort because he reminds you of a simpler time when life felt magical and full of wonder. his presence is like the soft melody of a music box, enveloping you in warmth and tranquility, making you feel cherished in a way that feels timeless.

heeseung is a dreamy, delicate angel come to life. he has a calming energy that feels timeless and effortlessly comforting. the type of lover to cuddle with you underneath a weighted blanket after taking a warm soothing bath together. the type of lover to steep green tea for you, watch vintage disney films with you, and softly hum sweet melodies to you as he holds you close, making you feel cherished and at peace in his embrace.

heeseung’s love feels like a safe haven, a quiet sanctuary where time slows down, and the world outside fades away. his presence is a gentle reminder that even in life’s chaos, there’s always space for warmth, tenderness, and the beauty of simple, meaningful moments. with him, every shared glance and unspoken word feels intentional, like he’s crafting a world where love is soft, steady, and substantial. he has a way of making you feel as if you’re the only person that matters, wrapping you in a sense of security that feels both grounding and ethereal.

with heeseung, love feels like being carried through life’s storms with unwavering strength and care. when the weight of the world feels too heavy, his arms are always there to be wrapped around your shoulders. his quiet reassurance dissolves your fears like the clouds in the sky after a thunderstorm.

heeseung is an uplifting lover. when times get rough, he encourages you to overcome your fears and persevere through the madness. just his belief in you alone could move mountains. in his arms, you feel safe enough to dream again, his love lifting you from darkness and showing you the light of brighter, better days ahead.

your admiration for heeseung is never-ending. there is no one before him that could ever match his level. and there’s certainly no such thing as “after” once he appeared into your life. his warm, compassionate nature is rare in this cold, harsh and cruel world. you are his sunshine, and he is your sunshine protector. ever since you met him, he’s inspired your sense of adventure.

whether it’s buzz lightyear action figures, legos, or stuffed animal deers, heeseung serves as a powerful reminder to never neglect your inner child 🩷

JAY: VISION OF LOVE.

“treated me kind. sweet destiny. carried me through desperation. to the one that was waiting for me. it took so long. still i believed…somehow the one that i needed would find me eventually.”

“i had a vision of love. and it was all that you’ve given to me. i had a vision of love. and it was all that you turned out to be.”

you CANNOT tell me this man isn’t the personification of this song. jay HIMSELF is theee vision of love! PERIODT.

jay is the type of lover most people envision when it comes to experiencing true love. not just romantically. but on every level. eros. philia. storge. agape. in a world of fakers disguised as lovers, jay floats above the fray and proves that love is real. the lover whom you’d encounter by chance one day, only to realize he was the one your soul had been searching for all along. you had been trying to hard all these years to seek out love, yet eventually you found him…unintentionally.

jay’s embodies the type of love that’s even better than what you witness in novels and films. even in the mundane tasks such as filing taxes, doing the laundry, etc., he makes it enjoyable. and because of those enjoyable moments, he inspires you to conquer anything life throws at you. that’s how transformative his love is. he’s the reason why you’re so grateful for life, no matter how tough it gets.

jay doesn’t just love you in the extraordinary ways (i.e.: buying luxury gifts, or wooing you with lavish vacations). he loves you in the unassuming ways too - the kind of moments that go unnoticed. for example, if you’re nervous at a public gathering, he’ll recognize that feeling and hold your hand tight. sometimes, he’d look at you like you’re the only person in the room. or maybe he’ll give his jacket to you when you’re feeling cold. no matter what the situation is, his attentive love reminds you that you’re never alone. it’s the love that strengthens you, grounds you, and pushes you to believe in the beauty of life, no matter how unpredictable it may be.

sometimes you even wonder how on earth you managed to land such a generous, patient man like jay. the gratitude you hold in your heart for him is unmatched. it’s hard to even believe he’s real. but there he is. as real as can be. sometimes you cry because you’re afraid he wouldn’t love your imperfections - such as the way you manage your emotions under stress, or the moments when you doubt yourself.

but jay would assure you that no matter what, you are worth loving. and you are his vision of love too.

JAKE: YOURS.

“you brighten up the moon and stars at night. you keep me seeing rainbows in the sky. you bring new meaning to my life now. i believe in miracles. baby, i’m forever yours.”

“i keep thankin’ the lord above for blessing me with oh so much. ‘cause i know how it feels to be part of you boy. everyday my life’s so abundant with joy. and i honestly never thought love could be real until the angels guided you to me.”

jake is a living embodiment of the australian sunshine. because he HIMSELF is the australian sunshine! whenever he walks into any room, the whole place brightens up. his presence is the midas touch. he’s the rainbow to your rainy days. it’s the little things that make you fall for him even deeper. his hospitality towards other people, the way he treats animals and children, and his overall selfless nature.

jake’s love is bountiful. he knows how to make you feel cherished in ways you never thought possible. he remembers the subtle details - your favorite song, the way you order your coffee, the board games you enjoy, and the sparkle on your face whenever you see layla. he turns them into valuable moments of connection. with him, love isn’t just spoken in grand declarations, it’s the kind of love that speak louder than words ever could. ultimately, love is a verb. it is performed through daily actions.

with jake, the level of gratitude you possess has increased. he has a way of shifting your perspective, helping you notice and appreciate the little things that once went overlooked. you know…like the beauty of a sunrise, the tranquility of a quiet moment, or the comfort of simply being together. quality time is his love language. he is the living meaning of “quality time”. no matter how minuscule a moment may seem, he inspires you to see the beauty in those moments. his unwavering positivity and selflessness inspire you to find happiness in even the smallest of blessings.

jake’s positive attitude is contagious. it even influences you. he’s what it means to be a miracle. he’s a warm and nurturing lover to you. he’s the partner whom you’d be happy to share and embrace your life with.

in fact, he’s more than just your significant other. he’s your best friend and your partner-in-crime. he’s….yours.

SUNGHOON: I’LL BE LOVIN’ U LONG TIME

“there's no stopping you and me. i'll be loving you long time (as i can breathe). i'll be loving you long time (eternally).”

“don't care what no one has to say. they don't understand us like we do. i need you near me night and day. together, there ain't nothin' we can't do. scoop me up and we can go to that little spot where no one knows. spend a little time just us alone. you can caress my body and never let go.”

sunghoon is the kind of lover that just randomly appears in your life one day. he is someone who starts off as your friend first, and gradually becomes your lover. hoonie isn’t one to open up so easily. he’s guarded with whom he shares the fullness of his heart with because he’s someone who loves deeply. and he can’t bear the feeling of heartbreak. he craves a stable, healthy, wholesome relationship void of petty drama.

sunghoon is a loyal friend to you. he always supports your endeavors and is a shoulder to cry on during the rough times. he’s exactly everything a good friend should be - someone who listens without judgment. the type of friend who remembers subtle details like your comfort film or your favorite dish. he brings light to your life even during the darkest moments.

sunghoon eventually finds himself falling for you, his best friend. and it hurts him because he fears that you don’t love him back. when you noticed him behaving unusually and not interacting with him as much, he had no choice but to reluctantly confess his feelings for you. when he noticed the tears falling down your eyes and the smile that formed on your face, he was caught off guard from it.

finally, you admitted. someone who feels the same way about you the way you feel for them. the moment you gave him that initial hug, he too hugged you back. as your friendship evolves into courtship, you two are in it with each other for the long haul. that was the moment when both of you never looked back. you are each other’s allies and confidantes. you are each other’s lovers and friends.

you two love each other for life. your love for each other is unwavering and timeless. it’s the kind of love that feels both magnetic and enduring. sunghoon’s style of loving isn’t the kind that’s frequently communicated through histrionics commonly seen in films and literature. his loyalty for you is shown through his daily actions. ultimately, sunghoon knows that real love takes sincerity and discipline. he has a natural, effortless charm that that captivates you, not just in fleeting moments, but in ways that linger and stay with you long after.

he’s a reminder that true love is about consistency, depth, and a connection that withstands the tests of time.