#it just happens at least once every other year so it's normal enough that our reaction is less pure horror and more ''ughhh really''

[19thcenturyfuck]

people from other (warmer) countries: this is my "staying warm during the winter" outfit! a knee-length or shorter skirt with tights, a 3/4 sleeve shirt, and a long sweater or mid-weight cardigan!

me, forgetting that there are a lot of places on earth where the idea of it being -50⁰C is basically unimaginable: 😶

[beeseverywhen]

I mean like. Not to bring the mood down but... you guys know that's because American media is everywhere right? Like the world is unable to avoid some version of American accent on a regular basis. Of course ppl find it easy to mimic. This is absolutely not restricted to ppl in the UK, its really common for ppl who learn English as a foreign language to have perfect 'American actor' accents (cause the reason everyone's so good at the American accent that's expected of them as actors is cause at large there's little distinction between regions in the 'Hollywood accent' that ends up on TV and films and stuff. You guys have massive regional differences in pronounceation, but what makes it on to TV (in 9/10 cases) is a very standardised version of American English.)

But yeah. It's not just actors lol. Most British ppl can speak in a passable american accent, as can loads and loads of people worldwide. I'm not saying this to be like 'you should feel guilty! 😡' but it does always stun me when Americans are unaware of the impact their country has worldwide on all versions of English (and even on use of native languages. Many countries are using English more and more over their native languages and dialects , and yeah, historical colonialism has had an impact there.)

But in the last few decades things have progressed way way faster and that, is thanks to the impact of anglo/american/ect lead capitalism. I'm in no way dismissing the impact the UK has on this, but in recent years, its the US that is largely pushing that train .While the UK and several English speaking commonwealth countries are very involved in this kind of capitalist imperialism, there's a reason that more and more people are speaking American English. Not one of the many UK dialects, not Australian English, or NZ English. Across the world more and more people are increasingly speaking in the same standardised american dialect that's in so much of the media you export. Hollywood based media, with that standardised accent/ dialect and the standardised 'normal american life', has a stranglehold on the world and I just find it crazy that a lot of you guys don't even know.

It's stupid stuff like. So many countries are importing american cars and are widening their roads/ changing town planning to account for it (this is less of a thing in the UK but I see it more and more when I travel). Its the food becoming avaliable everywhere. Its the influence that for profit healthcare has even on countries with socialised health systems. Its houses being built to account for American style appliances. Fashion trends. Worldwide, everything is slowly evolving to be closer and closer to this 'American standard' which honestly? I really don't think actually represents the lives of real American people either. You've been turned in to products, the system has taken an unrealistic snapshot of 'American life' and it's being sold to you all day in day out, but it's also being sold to the rest of us. It's being pushed on us all.

Kids in the UK go through phases of talking only in American accents. Anyone born later than the 90s is carrying round 2 sets of spelling and vocab, cause we're all so used to the American way, that you barely know which one you're using half of the time. In the UK we have always had really strong regional accents yeah, and dialects differ between areas that seem tiny to you guys, I know. But like. Those dialects are being lost cause all UK accents are evolving to become closer to this standardised american and yeah not great, but at least we share a language! US American society is largely rooted in the same foundations as UK society, largely we have the same flaws! But oh my god. What about the rest of the world.

It's global. This impact continues to be seen, steamrollering ahead, in places that had completely different starting points. UK culture isn't that dissimilar to that of the US, so we aren't losing nearly as much as cultures that had something completely different. So much is being lost.

Languages and dialects and everything else is just being wallpapered over so we all meet the same ideal of the 'American life' and it's not even real! It's just a product based on how ppl were actually living in the US, manipulated until it's the most marketable mould. You guys are victims of it as well but like. It's based on your culture so you don't lose as much if you conform to it. Just like how in the UK, if we conform, we lose more than US, but nowhere near as much as countries that had languages, dialects and cultures that were so so different to UK/US culture. The less like the US, your starting point, the more there is to lose.

And look. I said it to start with. I'm not having a go. That's not what this is. But you guys really need to be aware, you need to make an effort to understand the impact that this plastic Hollywood american culture is having on the rest of the world. You need to actively look for it, and make an effort to not pay in to it. Because when Americans see other cultures represented in media and say its not relatable, when you guys go on holiday and make no effort to learn local customs, and try and pay in dollars and spend your time abroad like you're still in America, when you see cultural differences and immediately argue that the American way is better and of course everyone should have giant cars and never dry laundry outdoors and live in American style homes, without any kind of critical thought. Just 'this is how we do it so why wouldn't everyone else do it this way. This is the only way. The American way is obviously best.' When you guys do that you are individually feeding in to this absolute bulldozing of cultures (including American ones!) to allow for better marketability.

It isn't any one individual American citizens fault that things are the way they are, and you guys are victims of the same system, but you need to have some self awareness when it comes to the fact that as individuals you are unknowingly, helping driving this forwards and as individuals, there are things you can do to limit your personal impact (and no arguing that you have no culture is not it!!! Being all self deprecating doesn't do shit. Take some responsibility and accept that individual Americans didn't create this system, but currently, individual Americans really are doing their bit to keep promoting it, to keep pushing it on the rest of the world.

And I've already rambled for an age so I'll stop here but I just want to make clear as an ending note here, that this really isn't about piling on Americans and being all 'boo it's all America's fault. They should apologise. Their culture isn't worth anything.' Not at all this is the opposite of that. The fact that millions of Americans have been convinced you have no culture, all while a mimicry of American culture is plastered on to the rest of the world, and while you as individuals are encouraged to help that happen, often without even realising what you're doing; is a crime. You've been wronged, as have we all.

And America is not the problem. The problem is imperialism and it didn't start with you guys. It started in Europe, and Europeans, particularly British ppl, have a responsibility to push back and be self aware, take some fucking responsibility and not inadvertently keep feeding in to that system, just as you guys do. The US didn't start the fire, imperialist capitalism is a fire that started burning long before the United States was even considered, but its on all of us, to do what we can to not feed that fire. And right now? You guys are the face of it.

This idea of what America is, is the face of imperialistic capitalism, and that means that even if you don't mean to, you guys are feeding that fire more so than the rest of us. You're responsible for spreading it, more so than the rest of us. And if you don't step up and take responsibility, accept that you're gonna get it wrong sometimes and you need to try to do better; if we don't all do that. There will be nothing left. They'll paper over it all, the lives of real Americans just as much as those in Scotland and India and the Netherlands, and 100 other cultures, that are at risk, thanks to this fire, that's currently, largely coming from America.

So yeah. It's absolutely not just on you guys and ppl who act like there's no racism or wealth divide in Europe or anywhere else for that matter are complete idiots, however, this Americanisation of the world (and I hesitate to call it that. Because its not a representation of real American lives. Its simply wearing an American face.) Its real. It's happening.

And we don't tell you about it to make you feel guilty (those of us who aren't dicks at least) ,we are telling you. We are kicking up a fuss. Because it isn't fair. It's not right and while individual Americans ignore that and refuse to take responsibility where they can (small apples. We aren't asking for you to call a violent revolution in our names. Just take some time to learn about the rest of the world. Stop assuming America is always right and examine your biases. When you find them. Stop personally pushing them.) , while that is happening, as individuals, you are contributing to this. It's not even altruism. This system is hurting Americans too. It's hurting us all. All we ask is that you do what you can to not personally contribute, and keep an open mind, be aware. That's all any of us can do.

when a british actor does an american accent everyone’s like “i didn’t even know they were british until they were on colbert.” but when americans do a british accent everyone’s like “they’re supposed to be from east cocksford but their glottal e’s are north dicksford. shameful.”

[cvpitvno]

PROLOGUE !

Summary... The rivalry between you and Jeong Yunho had gone back to your karting days. It had boiled over once, and it was sure to boil over again — However, the rivalry between the two of you had evolved into one the world longed to witness. The battle of Mclaren and Red Bull.

Pairing... Jeong Yunho x gn!reader (+ more!)

Chapter Warnings... depictions of minor karting accident, minor swearing

Word Count... 1.4k

No normal person who truly has a grasp for what exactly Formula One entails, would ever agree to willingly get behind the wheel of a F1 car. The speed paired with the dangerous tracks, the G-force, the mental and physical strain the body is put through time and time again through the race weekend as well as during training; Formula One was not for the faint hearted. It was for those who strived to stand on top of the world - to carve their name in history and bring their team glory.

You, however, just wanted to be able to beat Jeong Yunho time and time again.

Satisfaction was something that you had a taste of early on in your career - from winning races back to back every weekend, having your name whispered amongst people looking for the next generation of great and upcoming talent, and of course, always managing to finish ahead of the Jeong boy.

From an early age, the world of Formula was simple - eat or be eaten; prey or be preyed on. And your time with Yunho had taught you that lesson enough. Headstrong, cocky, and a grin that made everyone around him wanna wipe it clean off.

The boy had come from wealth. Mommy and daddy’s money buying him the best of the best karts, flying him out to competitions that the locals deemed ‘too far’ for a child to travel, and being able to attend races on top of his own season. 

It was a dream for many of of the kids that had raced with the boy - far too many of you struggled to balance school, family life, and our desire to race. Yunho, however, seemed to have the world in the palm of his hand; anything he wanted he could have, and he had made it clear he wanted a seat in the big leagues.

So when you had beat Yunho once by a stroke of luck, had the taste of showing Yunho up for once and not the other way around, it was a feeling that had engraved itself into your mind and soul. Once turned to two times, two times to four, and so on and so forth. While others struggled to keep up with the two of you, Yunho and yourself only had eyes on the other.

What started as a flimsy childhood rivalry had blossomed into full blown hatred - post race interviews spent criticising the other for their reckless tactics, rides home spent grumbling about how insufferable the other was, and avoiding each other like the plague at the tracks, sticking to your own separate groups of friends.

Yunho, however, had taken it too far during one of your last races.

Nine years old and dealing with so much already, everyone had expected at least a semi clean race - maybe a few bumps, scratches, or yells thrown at each other over the loud exhaust. Yet no one could have expected something so drastic to happen nearing the final lap.

In the lead only by a margin of a second with Yunho hot on your tail, you had played the defence; matching every move that Yunho had made to make sure he stayed behind you until you crossed the finish line. With your kart's wheels locking up for a fraction of a second, it had cost you that minor gap, leaving Yunho’s kart nearly pressed right against the side of your own.

 Neck and neck, wheel to wheel, and the sight of victory down the last straight, you had pushed your all onto the gas pedal.

Yet when you swear you had your sights locked onto that chequered flag - the flag that was rightfully yours - Yunho had stripped that away within a blink of an eye.

His kart smashed into the right side of your kart, sending your front end spinning out and heading quickly towards the gravel that surrounded the track. In your struggle to keep your kart from being damaged (you wouldn't hear the end of it from your parents had you even scratched the paint in the slightest) you had seen Yunho push ahead without even looking back, heading straight for the finish line.

The rest of the karts passed by as the organisers told you to cut the power to your kart, stating that your race was done - streaks of the cars of friends and accomplices passed by, making sure to avoid the side of the track your kart had ended up on.

Time moved slowly as everyone clambered out of their karts, looking to their parents to try and find any semblance of pride on their features, yet your eyes locked on Yunho’s form. Eyes showing just how wide his grin was as he looked to his parents, holding a single finger up to them.

He was flaunting that he had come first.

With quick feet and determination in your stride, you ignored the questions of your wellbeing from friends and parents of the other kids, beelining straight to the celebrating boy.

“Jeong Yunho, you pushed me off the track!” you pushed a finger into his chest, the slightly taller boy slightly swaying from the force of your single finger. “I would have won fair and square, you- you cheater!”

Yunho looked at you with confusion, “I didn’t purposely push you off the track, my kart caught a groove-”

You huffed, “save it Yunho, you’ve always had it out for me ever since I started winning more than you.” Locking eyes with the boy, you chose to ignore the slight hurt hidden within the deep brown of his eyes. “One day, I’m gonna show you and everybody else in the world that I’m the better racer!” You stepped up to be almost chest to chest with him. 

“I’ll be world champion someday and you’ll be left watching from the second place podium.”

The boy stood silently for a moment before raising his chin to you, making the height difference - even though slight at that age - more prominent.

“I’ll see you in the battle for world champion.”

“-Welcome to the Mclaren family y/n,” the Principle of the infamous papaya team spoke, hand grasping yours tightly. With the fresh ink from the pen used to sign your entry contract into the world of Formula One staining your fingertips, you had never felt more happy.

Years of dedication, blood, sweat, and tears… everything had finally paid off. 

“We look forward to what you’ll bring to the team.”

As the new driver for the Mclaren Formula One racing team, everything had seemed to fall into place - your life goal had finally been achieved, and you had high expectations placed on your head; all thanks to your phenomenal seasons in F3 and F2.

Just before becoming second-time champion back to back in F2, you had gotten the call-up to fill in for one of the Mclaren drivers during their Abu Dhabi race weekend. With the experience of a lifetime, you had gotten your foot in the door, and when one of a few drivers had announced retirement as well as seats being lost within teams, it had given you the chance to finally fully step into the light.

However, it also meant that others had been able to take that step alongside you as well.

“I wanna show you what the projected driver line-up looks like for this season based on some info we’ve received from trusted sources, just so you know what you’re going up against before the rest of the world does: Yu Karina and you for Mclaren, Choi Jongho and Kim Winter for Ferrari, Kim Hongjoong and Song Mingi for Mercedes-” you had tuned most of the list out up until the last few names had been read out. “And Park Seonghwa for Aston Martin, and finally Choi San and Jeong Yunho for Red Bull, quite a few names I think you’d recognize from your karting days, no?”

You stared in shock at the man sitting before you, a grin on his face as if he hadn’t just dropped the equivalent of a ten story building on top of your head.

“... Ah, yes I remember a few of those names.”

The Principle gave you a soft smile before standing and rounding the pristine desk you had just signed the next few years of your life away on. With a solid pat on the shoulder, he moved to exit his office.

“I look forward to you bringing home the championship one day y/n.”

“I’ll be world champion someday and you’ll be left watching from the second place podium.”

The boy stood silently for a moment before raising his chin to you, making the height difference - even though slight at that age - more prominent.

“I’ll see you in the battle for world champion.”

Fuck Jeong Yunho.

A/N — Welcome to the start of a series of mine I've been dreaming up for a while now! As a Formula One lover (and Mclaren if you can't tell) and an Ateez fan, I just had to combine the two!

Thanks for reading :)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA if I actively worsen my family’s sanity as revenge for worsening mine?

My family is that if two parents and three children (all in our 20s).

Without getting into deep specifics, basically, I’ve lost all the patience I’ve had for my family. My mom who is manipulative, my dad who is neglectful, my siblings who are egotistical and dismissive.

because I’m the middle child and oldest daughter I’ve been the brunt of every negative thing you could think of, and I dealt with it for… 25 years.

but this year as my New Year’s resolution I swore to treat them worse than they treat me. So every time my mom tried to manipulate me into feeling bad for her and to love her and to do the house chores, I threaten to kill myself and tell her that she was an awful mother and that if she really cared for me she wouldn’t ask me for things. (She knows I have mental illness that makes it hard for me to do things)

and when my dad puts my pet in danger I slap him and threaten to take his pet to a shelter to have him euthanized and tell him he should die alongside his pet (he is in his mid 60s)

I don’t do anything directly to my siblings because our relationship honestly isn’t that bad, but I did make a fake Instagram account that I use to call out one sibling for all the stuff they do to keep their image up or whatever (some bullying might be involved in their part)

and for my other sibling, who collects vinyls, occasionally I go and scratch up a vinyl they have. Just enough to make it seem like normal wear and tear, they haven’t noticed yet lol.

whenever my parents try to bring up my behavior to me I start yelling at them about how I’m crazy and they raised a crazy daughter and that everything I do is a result of their own creation. And my dad has offhandedly said to let a (female) pet die after she got injured once, so I bring that up all the time.

I tell him that since he hates women so much he should just shoot me like I know he wants to.

Over the past few months I’ve noticed that one sibling has become extremely paranoid, while the other has gotten very frustrated. My dad avoids me now and my mom is very obedient and quiet.

I don’t feel bad about this, and I know there are other things I could have done, but I feel like this has been worth 25 years of repressed anger. Now that the year is almost over, I’m considering that my New Year’s resolution be to try to fix whatever shit show has become of my family, but that’s not the point.

AITA for taking this revenge, or am I justified in paying them back?

the reason I don’t think I’m the asshole in this situation is that at least for the first several months, they tried doubling down on their bullshit. My mom got more manipulative, pulling out everything she could to make me feel bad for her and to submit to her again. And my dad became violent toward my pet, whom I’m protective of to the point where I’ve told every single person I’ve met that if anything happened to her I would kill everybody and then myself. (Luckily I was able to prevent my dad from actually hurting her, but the fact that he tried drove my goal further).

honestly, my sibling probably didn’t deserve it because we all pretty much ignore each other, but I’m holding the grudges from childhood when they would beat me up and break my stuff.

and before anyone says it, I went to therapy for four years and it just made me more angry

What are these acronyms?

[darkfalcone]

Far Too Long

Pairing: Dark!Sofia Falcone x Reader

Warnings: Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Noncon, Allusions to being drugged but it’s not stated, Fingering, Strap-On, Slight Breeding Kink, Oral Sex, Drinking, Mommy kink.

Summary: After weeks of being patient, Sofia can’t do it anymore.

Request: can you pls write a fic including somnophilia? like sofia gets home and finds reader splayed out and asleep and just can’t help herself, it can be darker or have corruption vibes too

ao3 link

You sat on the couch next to Sofia as she went on and on about something that had to do with Oz. You were too busy focusing on her hands and how they looked gripping her own wine glass. Taking a deep breath, you took another sip of your wine she had poured for you just a few minutes ago. Although you had expressed that you weren’t that big of a wine fan, she insisted you have some from a bottle that was at least ten years old. It tasted like any other wine you had ever tasted - nasty - but you wanted to be kind and finish the glass. But instead of finishing it quickly, you drank it as slowly as you could. You flinched as she placed her hand on your thigh, instinctively, you grabbed it and took it off you. You did enjoy spending time with Sofia, but you weren’t sure if you liked her enough to allow her to have you in that way. Normally, she would respect your wishes to wait, but tonight was completely different. You chalked it up to Sofia having four glasses of wine, so you tried not to get too upset over her advances.

You finished off your second glass, and when you sat the glass down on her coffee table, she jumped up. Sofia grabbed your glass with a smile on her face.

“Would you like another glass of wine, darling?” she asked, making her way into the kitchen.

You shook your head, “No, thank you, would it be okay if I have some water instead, Sof?”

You weren’t sure if she had heard you, but when she came back with a glass of water you gave her a soft smile. You chugged it, not noticing the way she was staring at you as she stayed on her feet.

“Do you want to watch something? We can put on a movie while we wait for our food to get here, yeah?” she suggested.

Without a word, you took her hand and allowed her to help you to your feet. Sofia led you up the stairs to her master bedroom. To your surprise, this was the first time you had ever been upstairs and in her bedroom. It was larger than her living room with paintings decorating every wall. Black curtains with black silk bed sheets and pillowcases, you smiled to yourself at how much it fit her.

She sat on the bed, kicking off her house shoes before bringing her legs up onto the bed. You stood there awkwardly, unsure if you were able to go onto the bed before she patted the spot next to her.

You took it as a sign for you to join her, so you got onto the bed, laying so your back was against the headboard. Sofia turned her TV on, putting on some random movie that you hadn’t ever heard of, but thirty minutes into it, you began to feel tired. Just as you realized that the food she had apparently ordered never showed, you fell asleep.

You groaned, slowly waking up a little as your pants were being pulled down. You were still so tired, closing your eyes once more as you fell back to sleep, unable to get any words out to question what was going on. You felt two fingers slip into you, but you were unsure if you were dreaming or it was actually happening. You whimpered, feeling the fingers fucking in and out you.

“What- What’s-“ you began, but a slap to your thigh cut you off. Realizing that this was far from a dream, you panicked.

“You’re finally awake, Princess,” Sofia hummed, rubbing your clit harder than before. “I couldn't wait any longer, you being at my house in this pretty skirt yours… you were teasing me. I’ve been way too patient and I’m done with it.”

“Sofia, I wasn't teasing- teasing you.” you moaned, squeezing your eyes shut as your head felt full. You flinched as Sofia spat on your pussy, rubbing it in as she curled her fingers inside of you. You tried to bring your hands down to your pussy, but they were tied to the bed frame. “Please, stop.”

“No.” she snapped, pulling her fingers out of your pussy. She brought her hand down hard against you, causing you to cry out. “Why would I stop when you’re all mine now?”

You tried to close your legs, but Sofia held them open, bringing her hand down against your pussy three more times.

“Fuckin’ stop that, I’m not above hurting you and I know you know what I’m capable of doing.” Sofia threatened. “Keep your legs open and I won’t have to hurt ya.”

You whimpered, trying your best to keep them open as you felt Sofia move down and in between your legs. You knew she wasn’t going to stop, but you were definitely going to try to get her to or the very least prolong it.

“Can- Can you turn on the light so I can see you?” you asked, voice just above a whisper.

“Of course,” she hummed. Getting off the bed, you were surprised that she was agreeing to do it. When she turned on the light, your eyes widened once you realized that she was only wearing a strapon that looked way too big for you. “Whatever you want you’ll get now that you’re mine.”

Sofia climbed back onto the bed and in between your legs. You watched as she got comfortable, laying down on her stomach completely before kissing your thigh. She moved to the other one, kissing your skin softly before sucking on it. You whimpered, trying to pull away from her. Sofia pulled her mouth away from your thigh, replacing it with her nails before scratching your thigh hard.

“Stop, stop! Sofia, stop!” You cried out, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. “Please just… I want to go home.”

Sofia smiled softly, pulling her hand away before leaning in and kissing the scratches. She kept eye contact with you as she trailed her tongue against the marks she made on you.

“You are home now,” Sofia commented. “Where I can take care of you, get you all the things you’ve ever wanted… you’d be so much better off in here than that hellhole apartment you live in. I’ll have a few of my men go and pack your things up to bring here after we’re done.”

“No!” you cried. “I- I told you I wasn’t sure if I liked you in any way other than a friend. I wasn’t trying to tease you or give you false hope. I like my apartment and my job, please just stop this and- and we can forget about this.”

Sofia shook her head, “That’s not how this is going to go down. I’m going to eat this pretty pussy of yours and then I’m going to fuck it. Afterwards, I’m going to actually order food for us and we’re going to eat and then watch a movie and sleep for the rest of the night. Got it?”

Before you could respond, Sofia dove in, sucking on your clit softly as she wrapped her arms around your thighs. You cried out, hating how good her mouth felt.

She continued to eat you out, making you cum embarrassingly quick before she pulled away. Sofia crawled up your body, leaning down and forcing you to kiss her, wanting you to taste yourself.

You yawned, earning a laugh from Sofia. “Didn’t realize it made you so sleepy, baby. Should have done this a long time ago.” she commented. If you weren’t so exhausted, you would question what she meant by that.

Sofia moved down a bit, taking one of your nipples into her mouth. She sucked on it roughly, occasionally biting it as she pinched and pulled on your other one. You bit your lip, pulling at your restraints as you tried to fight the urge to grind against her. You hated how good her mouth felt on your nipple, feeling yourself get closer to another orgasm.

“Please just stop- stop-“ you stuttered, but Sofia ignored you.

“If you wanted me to stop you wouldn’t be so wet.” Sofia pointed out, sitting between your legs on her knees. She spat in her hand, rubbing it on the strapon as if it were a real cock. “Can’t wait to breed this tight little cunt.”

You shook your head, pulling at your restraints as hard as you could but it was no use. You were weak and the binds were too tight for you to even do any damage to it. You watched as she lined up the toy with your entrance, pushing in harshly before she began to move. Sofia pulled all the way out so just the tip was still inside of you.

“Aw, you’re still so sleepy, huh?” she teased, watching as you began shutting your eyes again. You weren’t sure as to why you were still so tired, but as you began to drift off to sleep once more you heard her voice again. “That’s okay, Mommy’s going to fuck you so good, you’re going to feel it for days.”

You weren’t fully asleep, trying your best to fight it off as Sofia began to fuck you. Her pace was surprisingly slow, taking her time so you could get used to the length. You shook your head, trying to fight the sleep away. You couldn’t think of the words to say as she started to fuck you harder.

“Such a good girl for your Mommy,” Sofia moaned, reaching up and pinching your nipples. She pulled on them as hard as she could, causing you to whimper. “Mm, maybe I should keep you like this, could play with you however I want and you would never fight me back.”

“S- Stop.” you whispered, only able to say one word.

Sofia untied your hands from the bed, realizing that there was no way you could successfully fight her off. Once you realized she untied your hands you tried to push her off you - Sofia couldn’t help but laugh. You felt weak and the more you tried to defend yourself, the less strength you had. You gave up, realizing it was no use as she began to rub your clit in hard circles.

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” she announced, her thrusts grew stronger and she came with a groan. Sofia stopped fucking you - laying on top of you as she caught her breath.

She sucked on your skin on the places she could reach, before holding herself up with her hands. Sofia smiled to herself, realizing that you fell back asleep. She kissed your cheek and then your forehead before pulling out of you.

You were hers for good now and she was going to make sure you could never leave. Whatever it took, she would do it.

[metalmonki]

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love Part 11

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

1.6k word count

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings none

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

For 6 weeks we avoided each other. Only leaving our rooms to get something to eat or drink. Groceries where dropped off on a weekly basis, Dean was always waiting by the hatch when the drop off happened. I would sit by the top of the stair case to listen in to the brief conversation that took place, it was always the same. “Are you going to let us out yet?”

“Have you worked it out yet?”

“Fat chance of that happening”

“Then no”

For the next 2 weeks I tried to talk to Dean. Clearly waiting them out wasn’t going to work and honestly at this point I would rather be honest about how I felt and risk rejection then keep playing this game. At least this way I could tell Theresa I had tried. Surely they couldn’t keep me here if Dean was the one not playing by their rules.

My first attempted at talking to Dean was when our weekly delivery came. I waited for him to make his way down stairs then I followed behind him. Once the groceries had been delivered the hatch closed I tried to talk.

“Dean I don’t think waiting them out is working” I mentally slapped myself for pointing out the obvious.

“Clearly but we don’t have a better plan” Dean didn’t even look at me as he picked up all 8 bags of groceries in one go heading to the kitchen.

“We could talk it out like adults” I sighed.

“Hate to tell you sister but I have 10 years on you and a whole lot more life experience then you, you’re barely an adult” Dean still refused to look at me dumping all 8 bags on the counter top.

“9 years and I’ve been an adult at longer then you think”

“9 years” Dean rolled his eyes and walked off.

“Where are you going?” I called after him.

“To my room”

My second attempt, third and fourth attempts where all met with eye rolls as Dean walked away from me. It was becoming clear that the only way Dean was going to have a conversation with me is if he was trapped with no escape. Dean had made it a habit of going for a shower at the same time every night. He wouldn’t risk leaving the shower if he knew I was in the room. Or at least I hoped so. I had smuggled a butter knife back to my room one night after I had made myself dinner. I had then waited patiently for Dean to have his dinner and went to test the butter knife on the lock of the bathroom door. As I had hoped the butter knife was the perfect thickness to help me turn the lock on the door. I hid it in my room and waited for him to head to the shower. That night however Dean didn’t go for his shower as normal. He ate and went back to his room. I gave him an extra half an hour just in case he was busy with something for had forgotten. But when I heard the light switch in his room, I had guessed he had gone to bed. I wandered out into the hallway just to make sure he had gone to bed. The light that was normally visible under Deans door was off. Making plans to try again the next night I ducked back into my room long enough to grab my towel before heading to the bathroom myself. I dropped my towel on the bench before running a bath. I was exhausted from days of trying to talk to Dean. Not physically exhausted but emotionally exhausted. All I wanted was a nice long hot soak in the tub. Once the tub was full, I stripped down and submerged myself in the water. I took a face washer and submerged it in the hot water before laying it over my face. I took a deep breath, laid back and let myself relax.

“You’re looking pretty comfortable there” Deans sudden presence startled me.

“DEAN WHAT THE HELL!” I screamed grabbing the shower curtain dragging it in front of the bathtub to cover me.

“I’m sorry where you not trying to do this exact same thing to me?” Dean chuckled closing the toilet seat cover to take a seat on it.

“Well yes but only to get you to talk to me” I squealed.

“So talk”

“I…uh…I…”

“Oh so now you can’t talk” Dean chuckled again “Look it’s clear this avoiding each other plan isn’t working”

“And what do you suggest we do now?” I raised an eyebrow while looking at the shower curtain now hanging between us.

“I honestly don’t know” Dean let out an awkward chuckle “For once in my life I don’t actually have a plan”

“We could always try being honest”

The room fell silent. I watched the droplets of water slowly falling from the tap waiting, internally pleading for Dean to break the silence.

Dean shifted uncomfortably, his silhouette rubbing the back of his neck. His silhouette looking away, then back to me. I could almost see the gears turning in his head, the urge to argue or deflect swimming just beneath the surface. But instead, he surprised me.

"Being honest?" he echoed, as if testing out the words. "You really think that could work? I mean... after everything?"

I kept my gaze steady, resisting the urge to look away. "We’ve tried everything else, haven’t we? What do we have to lose?"

Dean let out a breath, his shoulders slumping as though the weight of everything we’d been carrying was pressing down harder than ever. The silence returned, but this time it felt heavier. I glanced at the tap again, watching the droplets hang in the air before they fell, one by one.

Finally, he stood up, pacing the small, dimly lit room. "You don’t just be honest” he muttered. "That’s not how it works."

"It might not," I admitted. "But pretending we’ve got it all under control isn’t working either. We’re running out of moves, Dean. This could be the only one left."

He stopped pacing, staring at me. The room was filled with a mixture of frustration and fear. “What if…What if we tell the truth and it just... makes everything worse?”

I swallowed hard. I hadn’t let myself fully think about that possibility. But now that it was out there, spoken aloud, it hung in the air between us like a dark cloud.

“Then we deal with it,” I said, my voice steady despite the doubt creeping into my chest. “At least we won’t be running anymore.” I whispered the last part.

Dean turned away from me, staring out the window again. His jaw tightened, the muscles in his back visibly tensing under his shirt.

"You’re really ready to do this?" he asked quietly.

I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I thought about everything we’d been through, all the lies, the half-truths, the fear that followed us wherever we went.

“Yes,” I said finally. “I’m ready.”

Dean nodded, his back still to me. “Alright,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Then we do it.”

He turned back to face me, his expression hardened with resolve. “But if this goes south…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t need to. We both knew what was at stake.

Dean stood there, his chest rising and falling with the weight of his breath. The tension between us thickened as the silence stretched on. I was about to say something—to break the spell that had settled between us—but before I could, Dean crossed the room in a single, swift movement.

Before I could respond he had moved the curtain out of the way. His hands gripped my arms, not harshly, but with a firmness that caught me off guard. “If this goes south…” he started again, but his words faltered. His gaze, intense and searching, locked onto mine, and in that split second, I could see the conflict, the hesitation, and the unspoken emotions simmering just beneath the surface.

Then, without another word, Dean pulled me into him, his lips crashing against mine. The world seemed to blur at the edges, all the tension and fear melting away in the heat of that moment. His kiss was desperate, almost like it was the last lifeline he had left. It was raw, full of all the things he couldn't say out loud—the fear, the uncertainty, and something deeper I hadn't expected.

For a second, I froze, my mind racing to catch up with what was happening. But then, instinct took over, and I found myself kissing him back, my hands tangling in his shirt, pulling him closer. The world outside didn’t matter anymore—the looming threats, the uncertainty of what lay ahead. All I could think about was the way his hands held me, like he needed this as much as I did.

When he finally pulled back, both of us were breathless, and I could see it in his eyes—he was as terrified as I was. Not just of what we were about to do, but of what this moment meant.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, his voice hoarse. He let go of me, stepping back slightly, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t,” I cut him off, shaking my head. “Don’t apologize.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but I could see the uncertainty in his expression, the conflict still brewing beneath the surface. This was new for both of us, and neither of us knew what to do with it.

For a long moment, he just stood there, the weight of what had just happened hanging in the air. But despite everything—the danger we were facing, the uncertainty of the future—I couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, we were finally being honest.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Sunflower: Book 1, Chapter 3

Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: drinking AN: Can you believe it? We're at chapter three! Three consistent weeks of Sunflower! That's like a posting record for the last three years! Look friends, I know a lot of us, me included, are in some pretty crazy weather right now. It's either super cold or super snowy or if you're really unlucky- both. Stay safe, stay warm

Masterlist Chapter 2 Chapter 4 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter 3

They sat in a corner booth of a small private restaurant. It was peaceful and empty. Places like this were frequented by locals primarily while the visitors would sleep in and wait for the brunch buffets, fast food joints and reservations for celebrity chiefs. Even on The Strip, locals had their places. 

They were in the weird in between time where Las Vegas was either still sleeping off the night before or had already gone to work, contributing even more to the isolated feeling that hung in the air. 

It was places like this that the resident celebrities could slip in and get some eggs and toast without any fuss. Places like this, Elton John or Celine Dion were just another local hiding from the flashing lights. Places like this embodied the vibe of the locals. The walls screamed, ‘Look, we all just live here’.

“Thank you again,” she picked at the airy sleeve around her wrist, “for the clothes.”

“It’s the least I can do for asking you to hear me out.”

“I- I know who you are.” She blurted out and his whole body stiffened. “I called Ashley- My sister- to cancel breakfast and she looked you up.”

“And?” He was cautious now, so different than the carefree charm that seemed to drip from his pores and that worried her. It was like the warmth had been sucked from the air around him in a instant. 

“You’re an actor. I- I’ve not seen anything you’ve done. I don’t really see much movies. Why me? Why just a normal girl? Don’t you have an actress girlfriend or something. Won’t insisting on trying to be married ruin your career or life or something?” Her insecurities were all the more raw knowing that not only did she drunk marry a hot man but a famous one at that. 

“Maybe that’s why.” The waiter refilled their coffees, interrupting the conversation though Tom was quick to thank him for the refill. “Maybe I need something normal. I’ve done the actress partner thing and it just- it’s too much attention. My ex, my last serious relationship- she got married this weekend.”

“So you drown your loneliness and marry a stranger?” She scoffed at him. “That’s not how anyone should solve their problems.” It was the Vegas way though. 

“Perhaps. But perhaps it’ll work out.” 

“What about your career?”

“It’ll be fine, I’m sure.” She wasn’t as sure as he was but really, what did she know?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His phone rang though he was quick to dismiss the call. “You have every reason to be worried but I can promise you, I’m not going to force you to do anything. One year- give us one year to see if this was a mistake or not.”

“Tom,”

“I know it’s probably not going to work out, most marriages don’t and we don’t even know each other. Let’s take the time to get to know each other though. Let’s see what happens. Let’s take our time. If it doesn't work out and we still don’t want to be together in a year, we split no fault, no questions.”

“So we play pretend?” 

“It won’t be pretend. We stay loyal to each other. We put in a honest effort. And if I ever make you feel unsafe or we fight too much, we pull the plug. I know I’m asking a lot-” The ringing of his phone interrupted him again. 

“Do you need to take it?” 

“No…” His answer was reluctant as the phone lit up once again with another call. 

“You sure?” 

He sighed. “I Should. Here,” He handed her a few twenties from his wallet. “That should be enough for the bill and tip. If you wouldn’t mind? I’ll try to be quick but…”

“It’s fine.” She wove him away. Was this her first act as his wife? It felt surreal. “Tom?” 

He turned to her, phone halfway to his ear. “Yeah?” 

“I think this is a dumb idea but, okay.” 

His face lit up in a smile. “Okay.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is Tom.” 

“Do not ‘This is Tom’ me.” Luke was angry.

“What’s got your feathers ruffled?” Playing dumb was always a good move with Luke. It’s far better to admit nothing until he knows exactly why Luke is mad at him this time. Tom had learned the hard way that if he started talking first, he was likely to admit to flirting with a interviewer when Luke was mad about a too high room service bill.

“Have you lost your bloody mind?” That wasn’t a good sign. 

“Is the correct answer ‘Yes’?”

“Damn right it is. You have ten seconds to explain to me why there are pictures of you kissing a brunette in a bar the same night Sophia got married. Go.”

“I’m human and allowed to kiss women, Luke.” Tom leaned against the side of the building, standing in the shade. 

It was quickly getting hot outside with the sun beating down. He wanted his sunglasses but they were back on the table.

“True. I’d rather you did it discreetly but that’s true. How about why there’s pictures of you with the same woman wearing a wedding gown. Tell me you crashed a wedding.”

“I crashed a wedding.” 

“You didn’t get married?”

“I got married.” 

“Oh thank god.” There were three heartbeats exactly, Tom had counted, between Luke’s reflexive answer and the realization hitting. “The fuck you did! You’re going to get it annulled, right?” 

“No, we’re not.”

“Have you lost your mind?” 

“That seems to be the question of the day.”

“Do you have any idea what this will do to your career? Your reputation?” Luke sighed. “I feel sick.” 

“It’ll be fine, I have faith in you. You can clean nearly anything up.” The door opened and Tom glanced over. She was beautiful even the morning after, with her hair in a lightly contained mess.

“This is a mistake.” Luke said as Tom watched her look around before catching sight of him. 

“Hopefully it’s the best mistake I’ve ever made,” Tom smiled as he disconnected Luke’s squawking as he pushed himself up off the wall.

“Here,” She held out the excess cash. He’d given her too much for the bill, even factoring a generous tip. Though he took it from her, he didn’t stop to count it before putting it in his pocket. “What now?”

“Well, if we’re going to give this a chance we should get to know each other. We can walk around, get to know each other? Do you want to stop by your room to get a change of shoes?” The started walking together back toward the hotel. It wasn’t far but her feet would quickly start hurting. 

“I don’t have a room. I’m a local.”

“Oh,” the silence was awkward. 

Two strangers stood in the bright sun of a waking city. They hardly knew anything about each other and yet they were husband and wife. The biggest adventure -or mistake- of their lives stretched out in the twelve months before them. 

For better or worse, they had taken their first steps down this path together, as partners. Their lives would forever be changed and shaped by the decision made this morning. With the path that took them to this point as unknown as the future, let us walk along side them as the Las Vegas sun beats down around us. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, why were you drinking by yourself?” Tom stood close to her. It was dark yet the Vegas heat radiated up off at the pavement. The shared a smoothie in a large cup. The alcohol was strong but she was having the time of her life.

“I work here. Why are you drinking alone in Las Vegas?” She danced in place to the music playing from the speakers as water spouts shot in the air, lit up in a rainbow of colors to the tune of the music.

“I’m not drinking alone, I’m drinking with a beautiful brunette.” It took two tries to catch her hand, but when he did, he spun her around just to see the smile that lit up her face.

~~~~~~~~~<3

Tag List: @winterisakillerr, @alexakeyloveloki @jennyggggrrr, @dangertoozmanykids101, @tilltheendwilliwrite @tinchentitri @wizardcherryblossom, @buttercupcookies-blog, @violethaze, @kats72

[tua-five]

Season 3 Episode 10

"Oblivion"

There's a couple references to all seasons here

The last episode of season 3. Tomorrow is the day.

Ben flicking the tail 😭

This is so sad. I'm not ready. I'm so scared. Just thinking that Luther and Klaus died... I mean, I know everything is fine at the end of the episode, but right now... they're like, dead dead.

It's crazy how Klaus doesn't like pineapple on pizza. Him out of all the siblings, should.

"Nah, it's like the old man said. Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, and three times ain't gonna happen 'cause I'm not a gibbering idiot." Fair enough.

"Hey, buddy 🤗"

"You 👿"

Speaking of the bouncy house. When Klaus lands, he says, "This is someone's idea of heaven?"

There's a couple of things with that. First of all, yes. Second of all, the fact that it is, means it's most likely a kid. And it's really sad to think that a kid died. There's a whole birthday party behind them... so that just makes me curious.

Also, him saying this means that that is how it works. When you die, you go to a place that you imagine to be heaven.

Reginald does have a point. Ben says that he made it happen. Being in Hotel Oblivion. But seriously. He did nothing to contribute to that fact.

Love how Five came out of the room, and it changed to number 5.

Reginald is genuinely surprised when Klaus comes. Just thought I'd point it out.

"You're going to ruin everything!"

"Oh, if I had a nickel for every time I heard that, I'd have a dollar."

Well, you know. Maybe this time, it's better to ruin everything.

They're all like, which idiot sibling rang the bell, when really it was the idiotic manipulative Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

Diego panicking and asking what floor is so real, though.

"Revenge looks good on her."

"Would you shut up and help us kill this thing?"

And then Ben just sits there. Watching.

And again, Five with the axe 😭

Love that for him.

Oh, yay. Ben finally contributing. I think part of it is because part of him is still umbrella Ben. And scared of his powers.

That or he's just a wimp.

And I love the Lila-Viktor duo. "This feels oddly familiar."

"At least this time we're not aiming at each other."

Very true. Now kill it.

Great. Now Five has lost his arm.

And Luther... 🥺😢

And the life being sucked out of them... (for some of them again if we go back to season 1).

The most impressive thing about reginald isn't that he is an alien. It's that his monocle stayed on when he fell over and died.

Ray being here, in this timeline, isn't right. He said it himself in season 2. He didn't want to come with to 2019. He had to stay for the movement. And now he's here. That's got to mess things up. The huterrfly effect. I don't care if it's a whole new timeline and it's reset. It isn't supposed to be like this.

"Obsidian Memorial Park. Graciously donated by Sir Reginald Hargreeves this 1st day of October 1989."

That date seems to always pop up. We all connect it to the Hargreeves's birthday. But it was never about them, was it? No. It's always been about Reginald. And Abigail. I'd say it's the day she died, but that isn't true. Reginald came to Dalas after she died way before 1989. So something else happened.

"Well, what are we supposed to do?"

"Live our lives." Yeah. And that's what you do. For six years, five months, and two days. Because you guys will never get peace.

What I don't like is Five looks so distraught. Confused. Yet there are no words when he looks at Viktor. Then turns and leaves.

And they all live their lives separately. Trying to figure out how to be normal again. For some, just trying to figure out how to be normal, how to live, for the first time. While Allison and Reginald get the life they wanted.

And Ben goes away on train. After being rude and grouchy, he smiles.

Here's a few gifs, but I'll actually create separate posts of just todays gifs.

[mirisss]

But I Love You

Wordcount ≈ 2.1k

Warnings: Angst, food, I think that’s it, 

Pairing: Lee Chan (Dino) x reader

Genre: Soulmate au, angst, fluff, 

Summary: Imagine a world where soulmates exist and you know exactly who your soulmate is but a curse lays upon you keeping you from understanding them or touching them. This is the reality of Lee Chan and his soulmate (Y/n). 

Loosely based on “I Don’t Understand but I Love You” By Seventeen’s performance unit. Anything written in italics is part of the English-translated lyrics. 

When they speak and words are bolded, the soulmate can’t understand it. Anything marked with ** is things they write. 

I did not intend to write for the entire performance unit first, lol, but it happened that way. 

Please reblog! Requests are open! 

Chan’s POV

The world can be very cruel. People speak of fate and destiny as miraculous beings who have given us the greatest gift of all, soulmates. Every person has one fated soulmate somewhere in the world, a person they are bound to meet and spend the rest of their life with. But I say it’s a curse, at least for me. For I can’t speak with my soulmate nor can I touch her, it’s like she’s so close yet so far. (Y/n) my lovely soulmate. We found each other last year in our dreams, a normal way to meet your soulmate. I thought it was only because of the dreams that we couldn’t come closer than 1 meter, or speak with each other. 

The first night that we dreamt of each other I was so excited to finally meet my soulmate. However, my excitement was quickly ruined when I tried to speak with her she just looked at me with confusion clear on her face and when she tried to answer me I couldn’t make out a single word except her name. (Y/n). I tried running over to her, to at least hug her, hold her, but as I came upon the 1-meter mark, I ran into an invisible wall. I punched, kicked, and screamed at the wall hoping it would come down. (Y/n) looked back at me and put her hand on the wall, as you’d see in a movie, and I put mine ajar to hers, hoping this curse would end fast. I wished every night before falling asleep that I would finally understand her or be able to hold her. However, my wishes never came true for each night was the same. 

Through some miracle, we managed to communicate our home countries and cities to each other and so (Y/n) is moving here today. She’s moving to South Korea, to me. We’re hoping that maybe the curse will be broken once we’re actually in front of each other.

When I only see you, my heart gets jealous of my eyes. 

I was waiting at the airport, I knew when and where to wait thanks to us figuring out how to somewhat communicate through writing. It wasn’t perfect but it was a start. The second I saw her my heart began beating quicker, she was even prettier in real life. “(Y/n)!” She looked up at me from where she was walking and waved to me. “Chan!” I looked around us and saw that it wasn’t that crowded so I decided to run to her, ready to envelop her in a hug. I ran without a second thought but just as I seemed to be able to reach her, I met a wall. “No, no, no. This can’t be happening,” “Chan,” I kept punching at the wall, hoping I could break through it, I felt my eyes watering. “Chan! Pull yourself together, hey,” I finally looked back into her eyes and found that she too was fighting to hold back her tears. We still can’t understand each other nor can we touch one another. At least we’re closer now than in our dreams, I’m only a few centimeters away from her compared to the one meter in our dreams. It’s one step in the right direction but it’s not enough. I want to be able to tell her how beautiful she is, how much she means to me, and how much I love her, I want to learn more about her, I want to understand her. 

It makes me desperately wish again, but I'm more afraid that it will get erased in between thе confusing words.

“Come,” We figured out that saying just one basic word in either of our languages allowed us to understand each other so saying ‘hey, come, yes, no,’ things like that would have to do for now. Writing worked for simple sentences but nothing too complex, it would just become a blur, only allowing us to see the basics. For 1 year I have seen her in my dreams, yet I know almost nothing about her because of this stupid curse. (Y/n) walked beside me as I led her out toward my car so I could drive us home. Home, to my apartment, I hope she will like it here, especially with me. She gave up everything to come be here with me even though our situation is complicated. I looked down at our hands, dreaming about how it would be to hold her hand, interlacing our fingers, yet as I tried reaching for her hand I was once again met with the invisible wall keeping us apart. “I know, I want to hold you too,” (Y/n) looked so sad as she too stared at our hands, I think I understood what she meant just from her eyes, but I’m worried that the barrier between is too grave. “I’m sorry,” “Don’t be, Chan,” Once we reached the car I loaded her luggage into the trunk while she sat down in the passenger seat. I got in the driver’s seat and looked at (Y/n) before starting the car and driving home. The drive was silent except for the music that played in the background. Just as I parked the car (Y/n) asked a question that surprised me. “Is it your song?” I hadn’t been paying attention to the radio bus after her question I tuned it back in and realized that it was in fact a song by my group, Seventeen. “Yes, my song,” “It’s good,” “Thank you,” That was one thing I had managed to tell (Y/n) about myself, that I was a kpop-idol but I couldn’t tell her of which group but maybe she had managed to figure it out and that’s how she could tell it was my group’s song. “How did you know?” “Your voice,” “You recognized my voice?” “I don’t understand,” “My voice?” I tried to show her through body language what I meant but it wasn’t great. “I know you,” “Amazing,” I smiled brightly at her and felt my hand twitch, wanting to raise it to caress her cheek. But I stopped myself, knowing it wouldn’t work. “Let’s go,” And so we went in. It wasn’t a big apartment but it was enough for the two of us and with this, we didn’t have to share a house with my 12 groupmates. Once we were inside I showed her which room would be hers and where mine was, she seemed to like the apartment because she was smiling the whole time. “Pretty,” “Like it?” “Yeah, I do,” I pointed to her luggage and to her room to which she nodded and went inside it. I let out a sigh before texting my hyungs that (Y/n) and I had arrived home, to which they answered with a question regarding when they get to meet her. 

While (Y/n) was unpacking her things I began preparing the meal that Mingyu had pre-prepped for me, I’m not the worst cook but I’m also not great so I asked if Mingyu could help me with the first meal (Y/n) would eat here. I prayed that (Y/n) would like it, if not we could always order takeout. “Channie,” I turned around shocked, so lost in my own thoughts that I hadn’t heard (Y/n) coming out of her room. My heart also skipped a beat at the nickname, it was the first time she had used something other than ‘Chan’. “Hmm?” “What are you making?” “[insert food]” “Sounds good,” (Y/n) took out a pen and a little block of paper before she began writing.

      *Are you good at cooking?* 

“I’m okay, you?” “Pretty good,” She smiled so brightly, she was so cute. “Cute,” (Y/n) looked at me a little shyly as she blushed before she pointed to herself with a questioning look and all I could do to answer was nod my head. (Y/n) began writing again. 

     *What’s the name of your group?*

“Seventeen,” I thought she would look at me like she did all those times in our dreams when I had tried to tell her but she couldn’t understand, but this time she didn’t. 

     *Can you play some of your songs?*

“Sure” I started a playlist of our songs before the food was ready and we sat down to eat. “It’s good,” “Food or the song?” “Both,” For the rest of the evening we just sat by each other as close as the stupid invisible wall let us, listening to music and occasionally writing a question to each other.

You don't have to understand 

“I love you, (Y/n). I really do,” (Y/n) looked up at me sadly because she couldn’t understand what I just said. That’s what hurts the most, no matter how many times I tell her I love her, she can’t understand me. Nor can I understand her if she has ever said those words to me. “It’s okay,” 

     *You don’t have to understand* 

I wrote and (Y/n) answered by writing back: 

      *We’ll overcome this, Chan. We have to,*

After that, we decided it was time to go to bed so we said good night and went to our separate rooms. 

All the words that exist in the world, It's enough for just the two of us to know. With the growing wave of emotion. You know, there are more important things than words between us. 

For the first time in a year, as we slept we didn’t meet each other in our dreams. Perhaps, because we didn’t have to meet there anymore now that we lived together. That morning as I woke up, I yearned to see (Y/n) because I missed seeing her in my dreams. I hurriedly got dressed and went into the kitchen to find (Y/n) standing by the stove making breakfast. I walked up to her and without thinking stood behind her before wrapping my arms around her. (Y/n) was quite startled and jumped as my arms encircled her waist in a tight hug. It took me a few seconds to realize that I was in fact giving her a back hug, a real back hug. I could touch her, I can actually touch her. “Chan!” “(Y/n)!” She moved the pan away from the stove before turning around and throwing her arms around my neck bringing me into a tight hug. “We’re hugging,” “Yeah, finally,” We kept our arms around one another for 15 minutes, and we ended up sitting on the floor, neither one ready to let the other go in case it was a one-time thing. What if the curse was playing a trick on us? “I love you, (Y/n), I love you so much,” (Y/n) began crying and hugging me tighter. “I don’t understand,” At that, I began crying too, the curse was still there, we were finally allowed to be close to each other but we still couldn’t understand what the other said. “I don’t understand but I love you, Chan. I really love you,” “I don’t understand but I love you, (Y/n), I really do,” I gently put my hand on her cheek, moving my thumb back and forth slowly before leaning in and kissing her. (Y/n) kissed me back as soon as my lips landed on hers. “I love you, we might not understand each other but I love you. We’ll find a way,” “Chan,” “I know, you don’t understand,” I said sadly, but as the words left my mouth I noticed the happy smile on her face. “No, Chan, I can understand you,” “And I understand you, (Y/n), I actually understand you!” “Just like a fairy tale, a true love's kiss removes the curse,” “Just in case it’s not totally lifted, we should kiss once more, right?” “Yeah, you know, just in case,” I leaned in once more, this time with a smile, and kissed my soulmate who I finally understood and could touch. Maybe the curse was there to make sure that we could love each other no matter what, whatever it was I don’t understand but I know I love you my dear soulmate, my (Y/n). 

[misc-obeyme]

Thinking about Lucifer knowing Spanish, and I love the idea that he picked it up on his own (HELP, IMAGINE HE LEARNED IT SUPER FAST BEFORE THE EXCHANGE STARTED ONCE HE SAW MY FILE, THAT'D ALSO BE FUNNY). But if Lucifer ever scolded me in Spanish, I'd fr burst into tears and turn into the biggest goody two shoes 💀 (for at least a few days). Like I already hate being lectured, but something about it being in Spanish just 😭 it feels sooo much worse (maybe because there's so much emotion in the language? Dialect? Very big disappointed mom vibes.)

also IT AIN'T GONNA BE ME CONFESSING, THAT'S FOR SURE. Or if I did, it'd be in the most round about way or by accident (catch me pulling a Mammon like in that car ride drabble.). I am saying it in EVERY WHICH WAY except saying 'ily' outright.

It wasn't my day for dinner but you came home sad, and suddenly I'm cooking and it's your favorite dish? Psh, don't mean nothing, I was craving it too. I found a super shiny coin and gifted it to you? I have plentyyy (don't think about the fact I keep shiny coins from the current year in my bag for good luck, and it's the first one I've found all year). I'm spending my last pieces of grimm to buy us a treat to share bc we passed our exam? Well, it'd be wrong if I only got myself one... (true story, spent my last $10 on chipotle kids meals for me and my friend/coworker so we could eat because we were both broke and had two days left to payday)

Mammon will need to grab me by the shoulders and shake me because I would not believe he's into me. I'd come up with an excuse for any evidence that he is into me 💀 He could be like "GET IT THROUGH THAT THICK SKULL OF YOURS THAT I HAVE FEELINGS FOR YOU!" and I'd be like "you wot? you're joking right?"

like I said, I'm denying it to hell and back because it's scary af !! I've only been in love 2.5 times, and the first time I was brushing off my feelings and making excuses. And then one day I had the "Oh. Oh... Aw, fuck." moment and became a mess around them. I've always been wary of romance (my only relationship ended up toxic, and I became more wary lol)

But the same thing happened with Mammon becoming my fave 😭 I was thinking about other characters (along with Mammon) like Levi, Beel, and Dia. But then everything about Mammon made me fall a little more without realizing, even while I was trying to deny it. I'd get asked my fave character, and I couldn't choose, but Mammon was always an option. And one day I had the "Aw, shit" moment. He won me over with his dumbass ways, heart of gold, and terrible bandaging skills.

*head in hands* THIS MAN MAKES ME WRITE ESSAYS BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE ENOUGH WORDS TO EXPRESS HOW I FEEL AAAA

anyway I am excited for the new lessons !! my cards are powered UP ! also I got a sketch and lineart update on one of my comms and 😭🫶 literally wanted to jump around at work because it's so perfect and cute (it's me and Mammon cuddling in bed AND RHEY PUT HIM IN A TANK TOP SND YOU CSN SEE HIS MUSCLRS AKDKD)

anyway. I am. so Normal about this. aha... OKAY I AM SENDING GOOD VIBES, AND HOPE YOU HAVE A LOVELY DAY AND FIND $10 ON THE GROUND TOMORROW (ALSO APPLIES TO ANYONE READING THIS) OKAY BYEEE

- ✨ anon

Disappointed mom vibes lolol. I think that would suit Lucifer really well, actually. He has those vibes anyway, make him lecture in Spanish and it's just even better~

Er. Well. I like when strict characters start scolding people, so perhaps my opinion is invalid in this case. I just find it very funny and it makes me want to tease them so bad.

Anyway, here's my opinion on romance: yes, it's scary af. But it's worth the risk.

Any time you enter into a relationship with someone, especially if there are intense feelings involved, you're taking a risk. No matter what, even in friendship and other such types of relationships. The way to get close to someone is to be vulnerable with them. And there's always the chance that the person you're being vulnerable with will take that as an opportunity to hurt you. But not everybody will. And you'll miss out on the people who won't if you just... don't even try, you know what I mean?

Ehhhh sorry to get all deep on you like that, but I've seen this kinda thing plenty of times in my life. I'm that person everybody tells all their relationship woes to and then I give them advice that they never take. And then it always turns out that I was right all along lol.

I also kinda think it's okay to fall in love with someone but never act on it. Sometimes it feels like I fall in love with everyone I meet. But sometimes you legit fall in love with someone who just... isn't the right one for you. And you know it, so there's no point in trying to pursue anything. And the feelings fade as that person moves on with their life and it just becomes a fond memory.

For what it's worth, I don't think Mammon would ever give up on you. He's not as dumb as everyone makes him out to be. He's actually quite emotionally intelligent. As soon as he finally figured out his own feelings and was able to accept them, he would clock onto yours. And if someone straight up told him (such as one of his brothers), I think he'd keep reaching out to you, keep trying for you, keep doing his best to make it so you're comfortable enough with him to be honest about how you feel~

Anyway, this is just me being a hopeless romantic lol!

Welcome to the Writing Essays About Fictional Characters You Love Club! lol honestly I get so embarrassed about how much I have to say sometimes...

I'm also excited about new lessons! And your commission sounds amazing already!

Sending the good vibes right back to you! May we all find $10 on the ground!!

[midnight--capricorn]

I started worldbuilding for my hypothetical FE ROMHack and now it's everyone's problem

(It's not actually a problem I swear)

This world has no name. The kingdoms (as of now, there are just four) have no names currently. For now, I'll refer to them as their colours: Blue, Purple, Green and Grey. (yes, they're colour-coded, any character from one of these areas has the colour somewhere on them, no matter how big or small, so for example, our first duo, Wiljem and Valentin, are from blue; and our red and green cavs Hartwin and Dragomir, as well as the myrmidon Cydon are from the grey kingdom.)

For this, we're focusing on the Blue kingdom because that's the part I developed a little more than the others.

All info under the cut

CLIMATE- How is it and how are the people there adapted to it?

[Blue] is a very cold place, to the point it can and will snow on most days, and people stay inside at night if they can. However, it also has an extremely clear view of the stars and possibly even some galaxies if one does decide to brave the freezing temperatures and overwhelming darkness.

If wool isn't a farming thing for this kingdom, it is a highly valuable import to make clothes of and line them with. Fur is also a highly valuable material for lining an outfit, though due to hunting laws fur is only really on the clothing with those of a higher status- or a thief who would rob those rich people blind (Valentin).

The cold makes people highly resilient, and if they aren't and don't have shelter, they will most likely die.

TRADE AND ECONOMY- What sort of jobs are there? What goods do they import/export?

As noted, wool is a highly valuable material for this kingdom due to its requirement in making good-quality warm clothing. (I am going to have to research if sheep can survive in cold climates, my guess is possibly but also I don't know if they can survive what is essentially a tundra. They can survive Scotland, is that close enough?)

Lakes and the ocean tend to not actually be that frozen year-round, so fishing is a huge industry in [Blue]. However, due to the coldness of those lakes and the sea, any accidents can quickly turn fatal. There are laws in place to prevent overfishing and causing the extinction of the fish in this sea, especially since it's not just their meat that's sold- it's also the highly iridescent scales. To rich people, of course.

As far as this goes this is still very underdevloped and I will have to continue on this further.

CULTURE- Festivals, Religion, etc.

Ok so this part is VERY underdeveloped, only thing I really have here is the religion part

So there's these two dragons- neither are good nor evil they're neutral forces- the Aurora (ice) dragon and the Nova (fire) dragon. I haven't gotten much besides that ngl.

They disappeared off into the stars and it is believed that every person's soul joins them in the stars once they pass on (which does reflect some cultural beliefs of real life iirc I will have to study those too)

[Blue]'s royal family and church leaders don't tend to intersect, until Wiljem came along. Normally the first-born son, so Wiljem in this case, would be the ruler. However Wiljem has more affinity for being a priest, so while rule was supposed to go to him it'll go to his older sister when the king dies (and he's a fire emblem parent you know what will happen)

There is a specific mountain in [Blue] where the stars are clearest on very specific nights of the year, and every member of the clergy is supposed to make a pilgrimage to it at least once on one of those few nights. Even members of the church of the other kingdoms may join these pilgrimages to get a taste of the practices of [Blue]'s church.

Ok that's kind of all I've got for worldbuilding so now I'm going to list the current amount of characters we have for this kingdom:

WILJEM- The Lord of this hypothetical ROMHack (and plot in general)- a prince who in later life is meant to join the church. Uses staves and light magic.

VALENTIN- A thief who broke into the castle for his big heist at the worst possible time, but it led to him technically saving Wiljem's life so they've put that aside. Dresses like nobility despite not being so for... some reason (you won't get that reason though). Please, for the love of the Aurora and Nova dragons, don't bench him. He can be benched but he's important. (he also has a paired ending with Wiljem)

Wiljem's sister (currently unnamed)- Crown princess of the land. Kind, but rather stubborn and pushy. a Pegasus Knight.

Wiljem's father- King of [Blue]. In typical fire emblem parent fashion, he dies. Honestly I haven't gotten much besides that.

An unnamed Cleric who was going on a pilgrimage before the invasion and murder of the King- Held hostage by Leena, a mage knight of [Purple] and Aelius, a wyvern rider of [Purple].

yeah that's all I got for now cya

[scarletsaphire]

There wasn’t anything Valerie wanted to do less on a warm August day than listen to her dad talk business with the Fenton freaks, but since she didn’t have much of a choice, she might as well make the most of it. She can get some enjoyment out of messing with Danny, and he seems so nervous about the weird hole in the basement wall. It’s just harmless fun, right?

--

Chapter 2 for @phicphight, and adding another prompt, this one for @ghxstkids! Prompts used will be at the bottom of the post.

Chapter 1

They'd come to an agreement, that day in the Fentonwork's lab. Neither of them would mention it to anyone, even each other. They would go back upstairs and pretend nothing had ever happened. The plan sounded wonderful to Valerie; she'd get to ignore whatever weird ass thing had just happened and she would never have to talk to the Fenton Freaks ever again. She was fine with letting Danny figure out how to explain the portal turning on; it wasn't her problem, as far as she was concerned.

It worked well enough. She didn't see Danny around when she was out with her friends, and she didn't hear about a portal to hell or anything on the news. It worked so well, in fact, that by the time she was walking into the doors of Casper High for her first day of freshman year, she'd almost managed to put the whole thing behind her. 

The whole mess had probably been some kind of prank; a light show, a costume change, and some screaming. That's all it was. Just someone jealous of her spot on the totem pole looking to knock her down a few pegs. She wasn't about to let some nobody get to her like that.

And then she locked eyes with Danny through the crowd, and whatever lies she'd convinced herself of shattered apart.

He looked awful, and not in the way he normally looked. His skin was pale, and under the florescent lights he looked almost translucent. His hands were gripped tightly around a stack of notebooks, and even from the distance she could see his arms shaking, as if he was holding something much, much heavier than some sheets of paper and cardboard.

Valerie looked away quickly, lowering her head and letting the crowd carry her away. It didn't matter what Danny was going through, it wasn't Valerie's problem. Besides, they made a deal. He didn't want her around anymore than she wanted to be near him.

 Once she rounded the corner of the hallway, she spared one glance behind her. Her plan had worked; Danny was no where to be seen.

She tried to put it back out of her mind. She didn't have the time to worry about how someone like Danny was doing; she had classes to get adjusted to, a new school layout to learn, and most importantly, cheerleader tryouts with the other A-Listers after school. She needed to focus.

And yet she couldn't. Every time she closed her eyes she was his face, staring straight at her through the crowd, eyes full of fear and gleaming with the faintest hint of neon green. It didn't help that she shared a couple of classes with him. At least during those, she didn't have to look at him; he sat in the far back corner, closest to the door in every class without fail.

Valerie blinked her eyes hard, trying to get the image out of her head again, when someone slammed the locker door closed in front of her.

"You good Val?" Star asked from her right. "You were out of it for a while. If we wait too much longer, we'll be late to tryouts."

Paulina, who had been the one who closed the locker, used her arm to coral Valerie away from the locker. "Please," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "She's clearly lost in her own little world. Already have a crush on someone?"

"No," Valerie snapped immediately. She knew it was the wrong choice when Paulina shot Star a knowing look, and the two started giggling, huddling close together with Val sandwiched between them. 

"Who is it?" Star asked.

"I bet its that basketball player from 3rd period. He seems like your type."

"Or maybe its someone on the football team? Is that why you're so out of it, because you're looking forward to meeting him?"

Valerie felt her cheeks heat up, and shook Paulina's arm off of her shoulder before she could notice. "What is this, twenty questions?" she replied. "Because if we really are playing twenty questions, we'll definitely be late then."

Paulina rolled her eyes. "Fine. But don't think we're letting this drop!"

Valerie made a point to walk a few steps ahead of Paulina and Star the entire way down to the field. Less chance for them to talk to her, which meant less chance for them to know she was thinking about Danny of all people. If they ever figured that out, she'd never live it down.

Mrs. Tetslaff stood on the field, a crowd of students surrounding her. Some of them were older, juniors and seniors that Valerie had never gotten a chance to talk to during middle school, but the vast majority were people she knew, with other members of the A-List, or A-List adjacents, making up most of the people.

Star had been right; if Valerie had spent any longer staring into space they would've been late, as the moment Valerie, Paulina, and Star joined the group Mrs. Tetslaff blew her whistle.

"Alright students!" she called out, voice bellowing over the crowd. Whatever idle chatter that hadn't died out at the whistle quickly stopped at her shout. "I understand that you are all here for tryouts, either for the football team or cheerleading squad! The first few rounds are going to be the same regardless, so don't bother separating into groups yet."

Mrs. Tetslaff began to pace back and forth on the field, arms folded neatly behind her back. "As you all know, these are both physically demanding sports, but more than that, they are activities about leadership, about teamwork, and about communication! If you do not listen to my orders exactly as I say them, when I say them, you will be taken out of the running for the team, end of sentence. Do I make myself clear?"

There was a chorus of yes ma'ams from the crowd, to which Mrs. Tetslaff nodded her head. "Wonderful. Now, to begin with, everyone stretch up, loosen out, and we'll reconvene shortly."

The group of students spaced out some, and Valerie found herself funneled to the edge of the group with a nice bit of turf all to herself. She dropped to the ground, stretching out her legs first.

Valerie wasn't worried. She already knew she was more fit than the other girls in her year, and with a quick look around, it was clear she was probably more fit than many of the older girls too; their stretches were sloppy, unorganized, and halfhearted. Many of them weren't stretching at all, just sitting in the grass in positions that looked almost like stretching.

Valerie couldn't help but roll her eyes at them. Seven years of karate and four of gymnastics had taught her the importance of stretching. She'd bet her new necklace that those people would tap out before Mrs. Tetslaff could even kick them out.

She let herself get lost in the movements, running through them on autopilot. She'd just about finished when Mrs. Tetslaff's whistle blew again, knocking her out of it.

"To those of you that stretched, wonderful job. To those that didn't, I expect you off my field before the rest of 'em can finish a lap, or I'm making them hunt you down for sport."

There was a disgruntled murmur that moved through the crowd, before a couple people peeled off in the directions of the parking lot. "You three too!" She pointed to a huddle of kids towards the center of the room. "Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about, Samson!" The boys in question glared at her, but did as they were told, leaving the field as well.

"As for the rest of you, line up in front of me. I want four laps around the field on my whistle." Valerie complied, falling into a running stance. The whistle blew, and she was off, falling into stride alongside another dozen student.

She was never much of a runner. It had always felt boring to her, when she could be sparring or doing flips or any other kind of exercise, but that didn't mean she couldn't do it. All it meant was that the trance like state of muscle memory didn't take her away like it did during stretches. She had to focus on her breathing, on the pounding of her feet on the turf, on weaving her way through the students who were falling behind, and-

There was a flash of bright green, horribly familiar out of the corner of her eye, carrying with it an unnaturally cool breeze that she remembered bouncing off metallic floors, and Valerie lurched to the side on instinct.

She knocked into the side of a student she didn't recognize, taking him down into a pile in the center of the pack.

"Hey!"

Valerie didn't answer, too busy looking for whatever the green had been. The people flooded past her, making it hard to see, but then her eyes landed on someone's baseball cap, neon green stripes lining the brim, and she let out a sigh of relief.

The boy kicked her in the leg. Hard. "I'm talking to you!" he shouted.

Valerie blinked in surprise, before pulling herself together. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"Sorry doesn't cut it," he said, untangling himself from the ground. "You just cost me a spot on the team!"

Valerie narrowed her eyes at him, pulling herself up as well. "What, you think I did that on purpose? People trip sometimes, dipshit."

"Yeah, well, you're gonna see what happens when people trip into me." He reached out to try and push a Valerie's shoulder. Emphasis on the tried, because he'd barely made it into her personal bubble before she'd grabbed him by the wrist, turning his arm around and using his own momentum against him.

"Seems to me like you end up face down in the dirt." Valerie let go, and he careened forward, stumbling face down yet again. "Twice."

Mrs. Tetslaff's whistle rung out, far closer than it should have with how far they had run. She turned to see the coach halfway across the field, red in the face, whistle still in her hand. "Break it up you two!"

Valerie raised her hands and stepped back immediately.

"She started it!"

"I did not!"

"Oh you so did, you pushed me!"

"I tripped! Am I not allowed to trip?"

"I don't care who started it!" Mrs. Tetslaff called, hoisting the boy to his feet. "Cause I'm ending it. Now, this better be the last I hear or see of you two, or you'll be getting a lot worse punishment than just not getting on the team. Understood?"

Valerie felt her heart leap to her throat. She wanted to complain, or to cry, or to demand to be on the list, but she swallowed those feelings down and replied with a curt "Understood." She wasn't above begging for what she wanted, but she wasn't going to do it in front of strangers. Especially not on the first day of school; she had a reputation to uphold.

The other boy wasn't so lucky. "But Coach, that's not fair! She sabotaged me."

"I ain't your coach, Levern, just like I wasn't last year," Mrs. Tetslaff said. "Now get off my field and stop causing trouble!"

Valerie didn't wait to see if he would fight any more; she was already off, back to the school. She wasn't going to argue with Mrs. Tetslaff, but that didn't mean she didn't have someone else to blame.

Hopefully, that somebody was still slinking around the school, looking just as awful as he had been that morning.

---

Valerie wasn't lucky, and instead had to make her way to the teacher's lounge to get somebody to call her dad to come pick her up. The time waiting hadn't done anything to dissuade her frustration; if anything, it only fanned it into proper anger.

It had been Danny's fault that the whole portal mess had happened in the first place; he'd clearly known it was dangerous, and he'd still been goaded inside. Frankly, he should never had invited her down into the basement in the first place! If he'd just been less of a wuss, than Valerie wouldn't be stuck jumping at weird lights and trying to get his stupid, worried face out of her head.

Come tomorrow, she'd given him something to actually worry about.

She didn't know where his locker was, but that wasn't a real issue; all of the freshman's lockers were on the same floor, so as long as she kept moving she'd find him eventually. It took her a good ten minutes of searching before she spotted his weird geek friends red beret through the crowd. Valerie didn't even need to push her way through the people; they parted around her as if they could recognize her fury.

"Fenton," she said, channeling as much icy fury into the name as she could.

Sam, Tucker, and Danny all froze. Valerie watched as they turned to each other in confusion, before turning to her.

"What did you do to get her attention, and why didn't you tell me sooner?" Tucker whispered.

"I can hear you," Valerie replied.

Tucker did not seem flustered by being caught. "Then maybe you can tell me why a girl as beautiful as you is interested in my bro code violating friend here?"

"I'm here to kick his ass. Unless you're interested in taking his place?"

Tucker looked to be actually considering it before Danny spoke up. "It's fine, guys. Just. Get to class."

"We're not just going to-" Sam argued.

"Please, Sam? I don't want to make a scene."

Sam narrowed her eyes at Danny, before finally looking away. "Fine. Come on Tucker.”

“Huh? But- Wait Sam c’mon, don’t-” Tucker’s protests faded away into the din of the crowd as Sam dragged him further away.

Valerie glared at Danny, but he didn’t meet her eyes. He still looked just as terrible as she remembered him being yesterday. If anything, now that she was closer, he looked worse; the shaking was much more visible and bad enough that he could barely keep the books in his arms from falling, even with them pressed to his chest. He wore long sleeves despite the hot, early September temperature, and Valerie noticed a scar just barely visible over the back of his fingers, disappearing into his shirt. He looked so terrible, Valerie almost gave up on yelling at him.

Almost.

“C’mon,” Valerie said with a gesture of her head. “I don’t want to be caught dead talking to you anymore than you want me to chew you out where everyone can see.”

She didn’t bother to turn and check to see if he was following her into the classroom, and was marginally surprised to find that he had.

"What do you want?" Danny asked, his voice flat.

"What do I want?" Valerie said. "I want to know what the fuck you were thinking with that whole light show you did a few weeks ago!"

Danny didn't say anything.

"Oh, you don't have anything to say now, do you?" Valerie said. "It was so important to you to defend that hole in the wall when  you knew you could spook me with it, but now you're quiet. Well I hope you're happy, because you might have just ruined my life."

"I ruined your life?" His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. If they'd been in the hallway still, Valerie would have missed it.

"Yeah, you did. Because your parents dumb invention and your dumb little trick costed me my spot on the cheer leading team, where all of my friends are going to be, probably for the rest of high school."

"I ruined your life," Danny repeated, louder this time.

"You heard me," Valerie said, taking a step closer to him.

Danny lifted his head, and Valerie was suddenly left wishing she hadn't.

Danny's eyes burned green, just like the portal had, just like they had before, and with them directed on her in full force, devoid of any of the kindness and concern he'd had in the lab, she couldn't fight against the pool of dread that sunk into her stomach and through her bones.

"You manipulated me, goaded me, insulted my family, until I walked into a death trap. You pushed and pushed until I didn't have another choice, until it was too late, until I was already turning that damned thing on, and then you have the audacity to come to me, saying I ruined your life?"

Danny took a step forward; at least, he should have, but his legs didn't move, he just got closer. "Do you have any idea how painful that was, Valerie? Do you have any idea how much everything hurts now? How hard it is to do anything when half the time I can't get my hands to close, and the other half things just fall through me? Do you know how terrifying that is?"

Valerie's hand landed against the wall. She couldn't back up any further, but Danny wasn't stopping his advance. He didn't try and move around any of the desks, just went right through them as if they weren't there. "Because if you think not making the god damned cheer leading team is worse than all of that?" He was right in front of her now, barely inches away, and Valerie could barely hear him over the pounding of her heart in her ears. "Then I would be more than happy to show you just how wrong you are."

The lights in the classroom went out all at once, cracking and popping as if struck and shrouding the room in darkness. The moment it did, it was like a switch was flipped, both in Danny and in Valerie. Danny's eyes returned to their normal, bright blue, and he scrambled away from her so quickly that he fell. The cool pit of dread that had seeped into Valerie's veins disappeared in an instant, as if it was never there.

If she tried hard enough, she could pretend it never happened.

But she'd already tried that, hadn't she? She'd already tried to block it out, to ignore Danny and whatever the hell this whole thing was, and clearly that hadn't worked.

Valerie took a deep breath to try and calm her racing heart before moving to where Danny was laying curled up on the floor.

She was about to apologize; honestly, she was, but Danny beat her to it with a string of whispered apologies into the crook of his trembling arms.

"What are you apologizing for?" Valerie asked incredulously. 

Danny didn't seem to hear her. 

"I-" She took another deep breath and sat down next to him. "You're right. I'm sure whatever happened to you is worse than what I went through, especially if whatever all that was is still happening." 

Danny still didn't reply, didn't even uncurl from his spot on the floor. 

"Look, I'm sorry, ok? It wasn't cool of me to pressure you into the hole, I didn't mean for you to get hurt, and I won't hold the weird spooky light stuff against you. Is that better?"

Still nothing.

"You're making it really hard to try and make it up to you, y'know," she said. It was true. Normally somebody would stop throwing a tantrum like this after getting what they wanted. Maybe that was the problem; maybe he hadn't gotten what he wanted yet. "If you're trying to get money or something out of me, I can certainly try. I'm sure I can convince my dad to give me something."

Nothing.

Valerie poked him with her foot, something far too reminiscent of the first time she'd been in this situation with him. God, she hoped it wouldn't become a pattern. This time, her foot didn't pass through him, and he flinched away from her touch.

It seemed to knock him out of his stupor, as he lifted his face from his arms just enough to look at her. "I don't want money," he said.

"Well, what do you want then?"

Danny stared at her for an uncomfortable length of time. "I just want someone I can talk to about this without being looked at like I'm insane."

Valerie was shocked, to say the least. "What, did you not tell your friends? Or your parents?"

Danny shook his head. "My friends are with Jazz, and think its some kind of hallucinatory effect of the shock. And my parents have and will shoot me if they think I'm possessed by a ghost, which. I'm not entirely certain isn't the case."

Valerie did not know that about the Dr.'s Fenton, but from what she did know, it sounded like something they'd do. "So I guess parent's is a no, but there's no way that your friends wouldn't believe you if you showed them... all of that."

Danny flinched again, looking away from her. "I... didn't mean to do that."

"Oh." That made Valerie feel a little better. At least he hadn't intended to scare her half to death.

"Yeah."

"This doesn't make us friends," Valerie said, surprising herself even as she kept speaking. "But I will listen. As long as I'm not with any of my actual friends."

"Really?" Danny asked, clearly just as surprised as Valerie was.

She nodded.

Danny visibly untensed next to her. "Thank you."

"Like I said, I am sorry," Valerie said. "And I can't exactly leave you crying in an empty classroom for the rest of the day."

"Wasn't that like, your entire reason for pulling me in here?"

Valerie turned to glare at Danny, only to find that he was smiling; a small smile, sure, but a genuine one. "Ha ha. Very funny. I will leave right now."

Danny opened his mouth to reply, but the bell interrupted before he could. They both jumped. "I guess you will be anyway, huh."

"Yeah, I guess I will," Valerie replied, hoisting herself to her feet and making her way to the door.

She spared one glance back into the dark classroom, where Danny was collecting his books off of the floor where he had dropped them.

Valerie pushed the door open and let herself get washed away by the crowd.

[81buttons]

'Our divine idylle'

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐞 𝐈𝐕: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬

Mauders Era! Remus Lupin x OC

you can also find this fanfic in french on my wattpad

masterlist ‘Our divine idylle’

summary: The sound of footsteps, soft words from parents, a few tears from mothers and children, the train ready to leave - this is the normal atmosphere of a new school year. Like every Hogwarts students, they met for the first time in the train, but little did they know at the time that from that moment on they would never let go of each other… Lucy Gilmore, come from a large and noble pure-blood family, and has just started her first year at Hogwarts. It was simple, she had to get on the train, sit next to the other children from pure-blood families, pray to get into Slytherin, make her parents proud, finish her studies, find herself a good husband, have male heirs and play the perfect wife for the rest of her life… That was plan A, but she didn't want to follow it and literally threw it away. She loves reading, playing Quidditch and playing pranks on the Slytherins. She's determined to go against her family and enjoy her life at Hogwarts with her friends. However, she never thought anything would happen to disrupt her 'plan B'. From practical jokes to shaky plans of attack and dubious outings to Honeydukes, follow the adventures of our favourite Hogwarts gang.

All Rights Reserved

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Today, my friends, the situation is serious. Our precious HQ has been attacked, even though the perpetrator of this violation remains anonymous, we all know who did it, don't we?"

"Yes, sir!"

"And who did it?"

"The Slytherins, sir!"

"And what are these Slytherins going to do?"

"They're going to pay, sir!"

"Very well, soldiers, at ease. Deputy James, can you show us the attack plan?"

"Why am I not the deputy?"

"Because my plans are better than yours."

"That's not true, and besides!"

"It is true!"

"It's not true!"

"It is true."

"It's not true!"

"It is true! Remus, tell him, it's true that my plans are better than his!"

"I don't want to get involved in the debate," nonchalantly replied the concerned one without even raising an eyebrow from his book.

They were all gathered in the common room to, I quote, "study the best revenge plan possible to put an end to the reign of terror of the dreadful Slytherins," at least according to Sirius.

Peter, in a corner, was quietly listening to the conversation while munching on cream puffs.

"Peter, tell him! Isn't it true that I always have the best plans?"

"Um, sorry Jamie, but I-I think Lucy also has very good plans and good attack strategies, and yours fail... how should I say... quite often..."

"What?!"

"See, I told you!"

"Betrayed by my own friend!! What a tragic tale!"

"Enough! Remember who the common enemy is in this story."

"The Slytherins, sir!"

"Good, I will explain what we are going to do."

...

"Sirius, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Relax, Remus, no one is awake at this hour."

"I have an idea, what if..."

"That's an excellent idea, James."

"For once, you have good ideas..."

...

The next day, the Slytherins woke up with horror. Their day had started quite well, happy to have gotten back at those damn Gryffindors, they didn't think they would retaliate so soon. But when they went down to their common room, horror! Red everywhere, from the floor to the ceiling.

Furniture in red, once dark green sofas, were now velvet red, pillows were even worse, golden, and the carpet was a bright red. And if that wasn't bad enough, the Slytherin emblem on the wall had been tagged over, in red, of course.

A curious first-year approached and read the inscription...

"What are the 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙪𝙧𝙨?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I hope you enjoy the beginning of the story (again, sorry for any mistakes;)"

[rhetoricandlogic]

Review: The Stranger Times by C. K. McDonnell

A dark yet humorous urban fantasy, The Stranger Times is ready to report some of the weirdest and unrealistic stuff (or at least, that’s what they think) happening in our world at the moment. Based in Manchester, things are about to get eerie and the link between the real world and the fantasy world is starting to turn really vague.

McDonnell did an absolutely splendid job at telling the story from alternative perspectives, gradually revealing the darker forces that are happening in the alleyways of Great Manchester. An evil plan is hatching and possibly only the people at The Stranger Times are able to stop them.

Well, speaking of the people at The Stranger Times newspaper…they’re definitely not a peaceful bunch. They’re all such different people and one can only imagine the dynamics between them. What’s fascinating is that there isn’t one character who doesn’t have an interesting backstory, and they’re all written in a way that makes me feel like they’re just normal people like us, or perhaps people we encounter on an everyday basis.

Take Vincent Banecroft for example, the drunken editor of The Stranger Times, whose only hobbies are probably swearing all day long and shouting at anyone who speaks or tries to speak to him, but there is just something about him that you simply can’t hate. There’s so much more to him than his drunken appearance once you get to know his stories. Honestly, I am a bit disappointed that we didn’t really have much written from his perspective, it would be interesting as hell to see what’s going on in this fellow’s mind 24/7.

Then we have the new assistant editor, the ‘new Tina’, Hannah Willis. Poor girl left her husband and accidentally burned down their house after finding him cheating on her multiple times. She ended up becoming a new member of this crazy newspaper crew after making the decision to leave everything behind and start over again. Hannah has a lot of potential and it would be super encouraging and satisfying to see her transform even more.

Reggie and Ox definitely are the funniest pair, aren’t they? One determined to jump off the building every Monday and another who perhaps lack a bit of enthusiasm when attempting to persuade the other from jumping. And then we have Grace and Stella, a kind-hearted receptionist (I believe) and a girl with something more to her than meets the eye. We also have the nerdy teenager Simon, who dedicates his whole life trying to get Banecroft’s approval and become a member of The Stranger Times. Will he succeed eventually? Guess we’ll have to wait and find out.

Working together to produce some of the strangest news, they were quickly dragged into a series of investigations where weird things start to happen, and The Stranger Times newspaper might start to turn into that name literally…

McDonnell’s style of writing is whimsical, the dialogues are hilarious, and the characters are certainly entertaining enough, especially the guy who keeps trying to sell Hannah the story of him seeing a ghost for 10 grand, honestly dude, I’m very impressed with your persistency. Additionally, in between chapters, there are also short extracts from the newspaper with all sorts of strange things reported daily which makes it even more interesting to read.

This story contains a mixture of dark humour and fantasy elements, and you can always get a good laugh while reading it. It’s funny but not cringey and you could get hooked on right from the start. The next one in this series comes out next year and I certainly can’t wait to read more about the strange things that happen at The Stranger Times.

Get ready, for the weird things might just turn out to be real…

[hartshorn-and-isinglass]

Doing A Great Job at Being Normal at Concerts

(Hi! I AM A GIANT DORK.)

Okay, so first of all... that concert was amazeballs. Keyboard Blorbo always selects music for these recitals so thoughtfully, and this selection of French music swung on a pendulum from refined courtly delight to thrilling dynamism. Keyboard Blorbo also gave themselves an entire chunk of solo pieces in the middle, which I ain't mad about at all. You wouldn't expect dance-based numbers to have you holding your breath in suspense but they enjoy letting the notes sizzle for a bit sometimes, just long enough to fuck with your mind. And I love listening to their resident soprano every time she has an opportunity to perform; she absolutely brought down the freakin' house with the last number.

Senpai brought a helluva fiery edge to this concert. Holy dang. (If I was ever hoping to be more normal about going to see them play, that definitely wasn't in the cards this time. Hnnnnnngggg.) They almost sounded like they had a different instrument under their chin. I think the acoustics in the space were just different enough from the last two venues to enhance the darker and more energetic sound they were putting out there.

Speaking of which, the venue this time was a very cool and very spacious art gallery; I was so mad I dropped the ball on my prep time again and we arrived with only ten minutes to spare (at least we got excellent seats this time, but we had to find them immediately once we arrived). I was so pumped to check out the artwork after the concert, but then at the very end Spouse pulled out his phone and showed me that the program had run over and we were going to have only the thinnest sliver of time to talk to Les Blorbeaux so we had to start stalking Keyboard Blorbo now, LOL.

And if you were wondering what the "Revolutionary treat" was... it was cake (shoulda seen that coming, honestly... was massively overthinking this one). With gilded roses on one side, and a guillotine on the other. I love Keyboard Blorbo's sense of humor.

Which is why it just kills me a little...

Whether it was just bad timing given *gestures vaguely* or just that they are an even more hardcore introvert than I was anticipating, they uh... did not let me get too many words in when I finally managed to flag them down post-concert. Soooo, yeah, didn't really get a chance to tell them, y'know, that their music left an impression on me when I was young and has helped save my sanity for the past two years. I-

I'll be fine.

I'm just a little disappointed.

Not every artist is going to be as gracious or indulgent as J. or Senpai. I know, I know. I've been extraordinarily lucky twice, and it wasn't going to happen every time. I'll get over it.

The other members of the ensemble definitely recognize me now, LOL. I did get to say hi to and thank a bunch of them, which I am glad for, while we were working our way through the crowd towards Senpai--who had made a beeline for the dessert table but was currently engaged in a lively and extensive conversation with someone else. I know this is fucking New York and you're expected to just kinda Kool-Aid Man your way into a conversation if it's urgent but I am not wired to do that, I just can't bear it. So with like four minutes to spare we swooped in the moment they were done, I said hello, got to squeeze in one question, and finally--finally!--introduced myself by name. They were confused--I think they really had assumed that I must have introduced myself before and they had simply forgotten my name. They then warned me that they were terrible at names and I'm thinking to myself--ayo, no offense but even if you're like, super-faceblind, how many alt-girl groupies have you accumulated over the years that I have no hope of sticking out in your memory sdfghjks. To be fair, I know I'm definitely not the only one, but still...

Their hand was so soft and warm. Mine was cold as ice and still pretty beat-up from all that lapidary work. I... uh... if I think about that contrast for too long my limbic system kicks my prefrontal cortex out of the driver's seat and takes the wheel. But uh... they apparently do not shake people's hands very often. They looked so confused by the gesture and they held my hand so gently, rotating it from its side-facing orientation to back-of-hand-facing-up, like they were taking my hand to dance and I'm like... uh... what...? ??? What just happened here? God bless this awkward mess.

The question I had, incidentally, led to a tangent about how their E string was being unreliable during the performance, and if someone were to write a concert review, they would probably complain that they sounded scratchy on the high notes. (Cue my cute-aggression activated.) Honestly, it wasn't that bad and the worst of it just kinda added to the vibes in that last piece. I wasn't gonna complain here about it, LOL.

It killed me that we couldn't linger, but they shooed us off telling us to enjoy our dinner, and we had to gay-walk our asses to the other side of downtown to make our reservation at the nice restaurant. It was a very nice meal. Few Italian restaurants in the US do Northern Italian cuisine, so when we do find one it brings back fond memories of our honeymoon in Tuscany and Emilia-Romagna.

So really, overall a grand time, just with some awkwardness and also-

I promise I'll get over it soon. Just give me a moment.

[scratchandplaster]

Stack The Deck - PART 12

CW: PTSD, drug abuse, recapture, regretful Whumper, mention of past torture, Lima syndrome

PART 11 ⇽ [Masterlist] ⇾ PART 13

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

"Now comes the best part!" Brooke whispered, quickly sliding the pot from the stove top onto a coaster. The golden liquid inside was bubbling up to the rim, but without a chance to spill over, it was already poured down onto a blanket of crushed ice.

She had to be steady now, line for line of sticky syrup was traced back and forth, patiently waiting for her guest to join in.

Elliot did, eventually, by placing popsicle sticks down and coiling the already hardening candy around them. Although he always kept his left hand in his pocket, far away from any curious eyes, he managed to roll them along the lines of syrup quite well, until a stack of sweet rewards was formed.

"And you never did this when you were younger?" Brooke mumbled while her teeth were desperately trying to unstick from each other.

Elliot nibbled at the corner of his taffy, clumps of ice were still stuck to it: "I don't think so, our snow was too dirty. My uncles took me to winter festivals, though."

He wouldn't have come, if his guilty conscience hadn't forced him this time. He declined invitations and outings over and over since he moved back home, so many had stopped prodding after a while. Except her, she was stuck in his messages like a tick, coming up with all sorts of reasons to meet up again.

When asked if it wasn't a bit early for winter traditions, without any snow to be seen in August, Brooke was determined that it was never too soon for maple taffy. She didn't wait for the seasons.

She didn't question his absence either, and they never talked about the job - how it used to be. As the days grew shorter, so did his hope to join her once more.

All in all, Brooke hid her interest very well, even after he had to take his daily meds in front of her: little chalky pills he swallowed down with the help of tart and sticky candy.

"So, I thought," she started after they cleaned up all the dishes, "we could watch a movie, to get the Christmas spirit going."

"No space for Halloween in your holiday plans?" Elliot asked with a tired smile, though he wouldn't mind leaving horror movies on pause this year. Or however long it would take until he felt like himself.

Brooke shook her head: "Not really my thing, but we could call it even and watch Nightmare Before Christmas."

A part of him wanted this more than anything, this comfy sliver of normality, but a glance out of the window was enough to tell that Elliot had overstayed his welcome.

"It's getting dark already," the quiet apology towards his host was rewarded with a scrunched brow, "My, uh, mom wants me to help with dinner."

She didn't mind the shitty lie, that's what she got for gossiping around with strangers in the restroom. Brooke was sure Elliot had been told about the quick chat in every detail.

"No problem, what about next week?"

He agreed eventually, planning to cancel if he felt like it. Or maybe they could do it at his place, his parents would love this sign, him linking-up with friends again.

Elliot was a bit embarrassed by it, more so scared, but Brooke even walked him to the train stop. Standing engulfed by a crowd should've made him feel secure, at least he desperately waited for it.

I'm safe, I'm safe, nothing is going to happen. Nevertheless, Elliot recognized him sometimes: in advertisements, in the bus, as sneaking shadows at the corner of his eyes.

It was nice being out again, exhausting, but nice. He waved Brooke goodbye.

Everything is okay. It hadn't been a bad day, so why did he feel so uneasy? It's been fine so far, no need to start whining. Especially back home, I'll just upset mom too.

Another pill should soothe his racing mind, but that's it, he didn't want to act plastered in public. It was all agreed upon, he could increase the dosage as-needed: doctor's orders.

It. Is. Fine.

He could taste the rumbling heartbeat in his throat, and his left arm woke slowly from its medically-induced slumber. Too much, just too much at once.

Home- a bad idea. If whining upset her already, a full on panic attack wouldn't help either.

He tried to tune the people around him out; were they staring? Of course, they were. Sour spit collected at the back of his mouth, begging to be let out, but no matter how much he tried to keep focus, he stumbled out of the train one station too early. 

Elliot needed air, a second to breathe.

Automatically, he started fidgeting with the cap of the pill bottle. How many did he take by now? Whatever, one more wouldn't make him hurt any worse than he was now. Elliot finally got a grip on it and forced the tablet down dry.

There he was again: climbing out of the station to stroll along a lonely sidewalk in the dark. Exactly what he was trying to dodge.

Great plan, fucking brilliant.

A forced calm finally started to spread. Fatigue hit him with a gentle fist, but it was welcome, the better of the two moods.

A new message popped up on the phone display, making Elliot jump weakly:

Are you home? 

So to speak. He sent a thumbs up for Brooke because "- she seems so well organized."

Illusions made his head spin with every step.

Don't think about that, look for a place to rest.

Elliot was sure he fell at some point, but was right back on his feet, stumbling over to a bench. An inviting offer in the abandoned street.

What did Dad tell me? Five things you can see- five things you can...hear...five thin...gs...

Tired breaths began to calm his system slowly, and the tight warmth in his chest kept his pain down.

He closed his eyes to rest for a bit, just a moment of-

--------

Elliot woke up slowly. Keeping his eyes softly closed, he tried to assess how bad it hit him this time.

After a night out in the cold, he counted himself lucky if his feet were still attached to the rest of him. It would take hours to shake the frost out of his bones, to creep back home for breakfast, but that's what one gets for overreaching.

He waited for the biting cold on his face, for the wind licking at the shell of his ears. But every painful itch turned out to only be a passing tickle, not even the traffic noise had woken him up.

His body felt warm and relaxed, covered by a soft blanket. He still couldn't manage to peel his eyelids open, too confusing was the silent murmur that this was off. That something was wrong.

First, both his jacket and shoes were missing. A sigh of relief echoed through the room.

Elliot had made it home, thank goodness! No future adventures in the evening for him, he knew being with Brooke had been a bad idea; not because of her, of course not, but he just wasn't... made for this anymore. As new waves of anxiety tried to stir up, a heavy weight pressed down on his chest: weird, he would never let Ginkgo run around at night.

Oh, quick, I need to feed her and clean up the cage.

While at it, his mother was in dire need of a hug until she would forgive him for still keeping up with his bullshit. Making her worry to death about her son, Elliot knew better than that.

Finally rubbing the grainy dust from his eyes, the first thing Elliot noticed was a blurred shape at the foot of his bed. The more his vision cleared up, the louder his heart pounded against the blanket and the hand above his own. No face was needed to recognize the person sitting next to him, he knew exactly who decided to haunt him today.

Oh, this again. Elliot quickly shut his eyes back to familiar darkness, cursing his stupid brain for dreaming up these memories. Sleep paralysis, very original, thank you.

They would fade, like they always did. He was home, he was safe...

...

..

.

Something was wrong.

Maybe the sun shining through the window that made his eyes water in face of brightness, an impossible task in his own windowless bedroom; maybe the fact that he'd rather die in a ditch than sleep without his wrist brace.

He had to know, and opened his eyes one final time - this was not his room, not his home. A trick of the tired mind, it simply had to be, Elliot prayed while looking the man of his nightmares straight in the face.

"Hi," Morris whispered, hand on top of broken hand.

No.

Not this.

Not again.

That wretched man slowly leaned forward to let his elbow rest on his knee, an expectant smile on his lips.

Staying horribly numb, Elliot's left arm automatically jerked back to his waist. He felt himself being dragged to that house and if he finally dared to be honest with himself, a part of him had never left.

--------

His guest gave Morris nothing, maybe he just didn't hear him right. Even though he specifically refrained from sitting on the bed and gave him some space to breathe, all the effort didn't seem to be enough. Elliot snapped up to sit ramrod straight under the covers, his breathing hastened to let his restless stare stop on Morris. 

Here they were at last, and this time nothing would go wrong.

"Uhm, do you want me to start or-" Morris said, a bit flustered and picking eagerly at the sheets. The answer came instantly: "I don't know where she is!"

"Who?"

"Wha-"

"Are you still high? It's been hours, that can't be right."

Much to Elliot's relief, Morris let go of him to turn around with a worried frown and fumbled for something at the foot of the armchair he was sitting in. Through blank fear, getting up and walking out was not even considered yet; but one thing came to Elliot's mind despite it all. The thing the world spun around.

"Amber. I don't know-"

"Ohh," Morris cut him off with a small laugh, forehead wrinkled in reassurance, "No, no, this is not about her. I think she had her claws on me for long enough."

Elliot fucked up bad this time. All the simmering fear, anger and helplessness pushed down on him with crushing force. Brooke - the crowd - Morris, it went over in the blink of an eye, his emotions couldn't catch up to the shock and the pills; and he was thankful for it. For letting himself hide inside a little longer.

Still, the icy-blue stare demanded his attention. He had called himself paranoid, laying awake at night to let his fears flirt with this exact scenario again and again, now he knew it had been warranted. Elliot felt it the first time he dragged himself home, just as intense as when he lied to his doctors all those times. Cluelessness spread and made Elliot trip over his own heartbeat.

"I-I didn't tell anyone either." he swallowed thickly, "I know what you said, I didn't forget."

Morris gaze softened, somehow relieved that he wasn't the only skittish one of them.

"You thought about me a lot, huh?"

He meant it to be playful, but seeing how much this comment made Elliot flinch back, he needed to choose his next words more wisely. Nothing but smooth sailing from here on.

He wants to know if I'm still in line. If I fear him more than I look for justice. Elliot would grant him that, gladly so: "Every day."

Much to his confusion, he just needed two words to make Morris empty eyes glow with joy.

This was good, great even, right? Keeping him satisfied, not provoke the anger that cost them so much already. Old survival methods slowly clawed their way back to the surface.

"Really?!“ Morris tone was laced with pure satisfaction, and if asking his guest, it was won out of superiority. Another fallacy that wouldn't be corrected anytime soon.

Instead, he just managed a weak nod above his sweaty hands. Elliot didn't trust his own voice, but still had to push forward.

"I don't really know why I'm here. If it's not about her...can I go then, please? My...my dad will be home in a few days, I miss him so much," his shaky tone somehow pushed out, helpless to stop the tears that started collecting and threatened to flow over. He should've watched that damn movie with Brooke; too late, all in vain.

Somehow, Morris didn't like this at all. Screaming and crying: no fun. How did Elliot already forget that?

"Why are you upset? Don't- no, that's not how it's supposed to go!"

Staying calm to ignore this dreaded feeling took everything out of Morris; if anything, he was the one allowed to be upset! He had been lied to, that old whore kept him away from her son, let him stew in pain for nearly a year. He was deprived of everything he deserved...

But wait, this was perfect: a gradual start. They both had been given time to process, hopefully enough of it to reward Morris for his good behavior. The lean years are over.

"One second," he finally huffed out, a tense hand running through his hair, "this is all wrong, I have a whole plan made up. Wait, wait!"

Knowing how this man's plans usually worked out, Elliot could do nothing but brace himself. Even trying to shrink further under the covers was only commented by a crooked smile: "I practiced, don't laugh!"

Elliot would never dare to, he hadn't in weeks. A quick clearing of his throat gave the go-ahead.  

"I'm really sorry for what happened. I lost control: of you, of the...situation. I'm sorry you were hurt, and I will make it up to you. But first, I just have to know:" stabilizing himself on his twitching knees, Morris finally let the dreaded question out, "Can you forgive me?"

Nothing but static whirred throughout his mind.

"Yeah," Elliot stuttered, "S-sure. It's alright."

In an instant, a pressure inside the room was lifted. Exhaling with a deep sigh, Morris steadied his forehead on his folded hands: "That's great, thank you. You're just great." We can go forward then.

A guilty conscience does weigh heavy, it seemed. That was it? This was no tasteless joke, all he wanted was absolution, granting at least one of them their piece of mind.

Suddenly, Elliot felt unreasonably bold.

"I need to leave."

"No, not yet," came the firm answer.

There it was, the catch. Who needed to call back this time?

Morris read the hollow why off him in a second and replied with a look Elliot couldn't place. Pity, maybe, with an unhealthy glow of hunger.

"Elliot, I know a junkie when I see one."

Don't let it be fentanyl, Morris prayed, otherwise he would tie him to the bed frame and never let him set foot on a street again. But he wanted to keep this topic on the back burner for now, to let new trust sprout.

Junkie - the nerve to even imply that had Elliot heat up in anger. Especially when it came from him.

"In my jacket," all Morris found was a bottle of Tramadol 100, half empty, "That's my medication, my-my painkillers. I need to take them every day, I got a prescription!"

Perhaps Morris' stock was running low. Elliot would help him make ends meet freely, however much he liked. Well, he had to be let go for that first.

"Sure you do. That's how it usually starts."

Elliot hesitated a second too long, thinking of another way out.

Meanwhile, his newest host had talked himself into a passionate monologue: "Yeah, you wouldn't believe how much shit they are stuffing down people's throats, but you're good, aren't you?"

"Yes, it's okay. I-"

"That's why I found you in Yaletown, passed out cold and begging to get robbed, mhh? Because you have everything under control."

This left them speechless. Elliot noticed the urge to cry freely this time, he was out of wits and excuses that wouldn't get cut down in a heartbeat.

On the contrary, Morris seemed triumphant about Elliot's little slip-up. Happy even, if one dared to look closer.

Somewhere at the foot of the bed, a phone started ringing. For the first time during this short waking-nightmare, Morris gave a nervous glance towards the door, biting his lip and clenching his fingers into a fist.

"Doesn't really matter," he decided quickly, "we have enough time to catch up later."

Later? That would imply stretching out this farce.

Finally, Elliot was awake.

"Morris, please listen-"

"Call me Chris."

Elliot was dead, he finally managed to fuck up the rest of his life and go straight to hell.

Make him like me. No, no, stop it. As if that ever helped.

Gathering his racing thoughts, Elliot hoped there was still a chance to steer things in his favor.

"Thank you for..." Abducting me? Helping me? Those words would never leave his mouth, "...letting me crash here. But we both know that I can't stay; with you." Wherever here was this time.

"You're nervous. That's alright, that's understandable. We can work through that!"

The steady anxiety collecting under his heart finally came to the forefront. Five - five things - things I can - His little tricks didn't seem to gain traction, he couldn't even hear himself think through the phone's incessant hum.

"D-don't you want to get that?"

Morris stretched out to snatch and softly cradle Elliot's left hand again. After the medicine's sweet numbness that held him together would fade, every touch will retaliate itself.

Dead focused on him again, caught between seconds that spanned hours, the man calling himself Chris now kept him close. Elliot was never spared, they had never parted ways.

"No, I don't think I will."

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Masterlist]

Taglist: @whatwasmyprevioususername, @canislycaon24