#it sounds dramatic but this story has been a big part of my life for the last six months

[juliamccartney]

i'm about to listen to the last re: dracula episode and i'm so emotional already omg

[icanseethefuture333]

PAC 18+: how to walk ‘em like a dog 🦮🎀🐆

“Back to the kitty, ‘cus she kinda pretty

Couldn’t stop lookin’ at her ti-ti-ti— face!

Me and cat mama rolled into the distant fog

Little did she know, I’m a nasty dog.”

Pile 1:

Shufflemancy -

Pussy Talk by City Girls ft. Doja Cat

Kehlani by Jordan Adetunji

The Zone by The Weeknd

Ten of Cups, Six of Cups, Five of Swords, Make An Altar, Chanting, Use Your Hands, Camera, Mirror, & The Grim Reaper

Hey pile,1 😝. The person who wishes for you to walk them like a dog admires you so much, they might even over romanticize you in their head, to them, you fulfill their fantasies. They think about you in different positions and wonder how your hands feel on them 😮‍💨. They get hard/wet just by the thought of you alone. I believe you show that to this person as well, you could tease them often or like to give them a show whenever you walk past them. “P*ssy talented it do cartwheels and he pay cus he like how that part feels, p*ssy give speeches, heart felt, say the p*ssy really talk like it Garfield (it do)” 😅 oh god, I think this person is obsessed with the sounds your bodies make during sex, they are heavily infatuated with you. “I like the way your body is, is that too obvious? Okay I like your confidence, oh that’s what good karma, like kehlani is, bad just like kehlani is.” This person desires to be fair in the bedroom, they want to cum with you, pile 1. This might be someone you’ve known since childhood, your first love, or an ex that you met when you were young. You could be playful and mischievous in the bedroom, but also like to take the lead. Switch vibes are prominent in this pile. You and your person like to give and take. You could be a brat and they want to be your brat tamer. If you follow each other, this person has been watching your stories on social media, I feel like you post risqué photos for them and wonder if it’s working 👀 trust me it has, cus they have been getting it off to your pictures in secret 🤫… This person definitely worships your body and your beauty.

Full reading on my patreon

Pile 2:

Shufflemancy -

Goodies by Ciara ft. Petey Pablo

Slumber Party by Ashnikko ft. Princess Nokia

Bimbo Doll by Tila Tsoli ft. BJ Lips

King of Wands, King of Cups, Knight of Cups, Watch A Movie, Massage, Rest, Talking, Keys on a Ring, & Love Call

I love how hyper feminine my pile 2 is 🎀! You guys are so popular and have so many options in your dating life. People think that you are so cute but in a tempting way. Do you dress y2k, mcbling, or coquette? Whatever your style might be, people think it looks so hot on you. You could attract both girls and guys with your looks, especially older guys. “You may look at me and think that I’m just a young girl but I’m not just a young girl. Baby this is what I’m lookin for - sexy, independent, gotta spend it type for gettin his dough. I’m not being too dramatic that’s just how I gotta have it. I bet you want the goodies, bet you thought about it.” You know your worth and don’t settle for less, despite your sweet appearance you know you give people a run for their money. People even wish to give you their money. Are you a sugar baby? If not, you should become one, you’d be very successful. I have a feeling you have people wrapped around your pretty finger. Others desire to spoil you with gifts and money. Dare I say I see this pile being with both a woman and a man (maybe even at the same time?)👀. “Me and your girlfriend playin’ dress up in my house, I gave your girlfriend c*nnilingus on my couch. She cute, kawaii, hentai boobies that excite me. I think she really likes me, ask politely, can I - woo ooh ooh (slumber party).” Two people wish to initate things with you but you have total control over the situation. Your features really entice people, you could have doe eyes, big lips, nice boobs, and a cute butt. When you talk, this person(s) doesn’t know where to focus their eyes, they get so nervous around you and have to control themselves from getting too intense with the conversation. They also really wish to hear you dirty talk to them. Your voice is a a major turn on to this peoples, it’s giving phone sex operator level of skill lol. As I was typing “hear”, I accidentally spelled “head” so they definitely want to see your lips on their d*ck/p*ssy as well😚.

Full reading on patreon

Pile 3:

Shufflemancy -

Get On Your Knees by Nicki Minaj ft. Ariana Grande

Distraction by Kehlani

Rocket by Beyoncé

Eight of Pentacles, Seven of Wands (reversed), Nine of Cups, Sex, Abundance Planning, Deep Breathing, The Sword and The Rose, Not Today, & Clock

PHEW 😮‍💨 don’t hurt em now, pile 3. This is my dominant pile. You guys know how to take charge in the bedroom. This person wants to be at your mercy. I’m talking having you on top and riding them as hard as you can or them getting on their knees to beg at your feet. This person actually wants to be walked like a dog lol. They are very submissive and like pain. I feel like you know this as well 😂! You have so much control over them and they want you to know you run this relationship. I feel you and this person are already together or have a thing going on, if not I see things progressing sexually pretty fast. This might be a tinder date situation. “Get on your knees, get on your knees, baby just get on your knees. Say pretty please, pretty please, pretty please. Baby just say pretty please” you could like to use this person as a stress reliever. The sex would be slow and intense. “Do me a favor, pick me up, take me out later. Don't worry about no paper cus I got much stacked up for nights like this” I see that you’re a hard working person and don’t have time to be in a committed relationship but value trust, loyalty, and honesty. This person provides that safe space for you and allows you to express your flaws in peace. You don’t have to be perfect and fake a smile like you usually have to do in professional settings. I see that this person really wishes to be with you in a romantic way but doesn’t want to rush or force things on you if they know you have other responsibilities to tend to. It’s reminding me of Nani and David from Lilo & Stitch. David had a huge crush on Nani but due to her focusing on needing to be there for Lilo and being a provider, she didn’t have time to acknowledge his feelings until later she was settled in her career. I see that you are grateful towards this person and attracted to their emotional intelligence.

Full reading on patreon

Pile 4:

Shufflemancy -

Blah Blah Blah by Kesha ft. 3OH!3

Please me by Cardi B ft. Bruno Mars

Dip It Low by Christina Milian

The Chariot, Seven of Swords, Ten of Wands, Pleasure, Flow Like Water, Hydrate, Addiction, Date, & The Phoenix

Heyyy, pile 4 😉. I see that this person got you down bad lol but not to worry since the feeling is mutual. I feel that you came on to this person before they even did. You could be an extrovert while this person is an introvert. They’re very reserved and are careful with how they express themselves. You might flirt with this person while they’re on the job or when they’re focusing in class. They like to pretend they are disinterested in your advances to see how much you’re willing to keep going after them. It could stroke their ego a little bit knowing someone as “cute” as you likes them (I heard an emphasis on the word “cute”). You could be feeling confused on whether or not they like you back and it results in you feeling pouty about the situation. This connection could be relatively new but this person is wanting to explore how things go! This person could want to tease you a lot or perhaps even degrade 🫠. They might like to talk shit playfully just to get under your skin. For some reason I feel like this person likes to make you mad 💀 they can be really annoying. They like when you tell them to shut up or put them in their place. If you yelled at them even and kissed this person the next, they would live for that shit. They’re kinda toxic honestly 😂. “blah, bl-bl-blah, blah, blah. Coming out'cha mouth with'cha blah, blah, blah. Zip your lip like a padlock (Yeah) and meet me in the back with the Jack at the jukebox (back, back). I don't really care where you live at, just turn around, boy, let me hit that. Don't be a little bitch with your chit chat just show me where your d*ck’s at”. This person really enjoys your banter and despite being so hard on you they really only have a soft spot for you, I heard “that’s my baby” 🥹☺️. Pile 4, you must have a great ass as well 🍑. This person looks at your physique when you’re not looking, they really want to know what it feels like to have your body pressed against them. “Please me, baby. Turn around and just tease me, baby. You know what I want and what I need, baby. (Let me hear you say) Please” this person’s energy is honestly all over the place 💀 they’re just so horny lol. This person wants you *london accent* BAD, man.

Full reading on patreon

Pile 5:

Shufflemancy -

Lolly by Maejor ft. Justin Bieber & Juicy J

Walk Like This by FLO

Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado ft. Timbaland

Seven of Pentacles, Page of Cups, The Star (reversed), Plan A Meal, Nourish Your Temple, Music, Love, Passion, & Photograph

Ooo wee, pile 5🫣🤭, when I say this person has a biiiiig 📦 for you. This person has very masculine energy, almost giving fuckboy/frat guy vibes 😂. They could be very fit and muscular with a nice smile, they know they’re fine and attract a lot of people towards them. There could be a height difference between you and this person. Their attraction to you is because of the stereotypical phrase “idk you’re just different”. They don’t have the exact reasons why they’re into you but they do like your creativity, mannerisms, and shy demeanor. This person could have a corruption kink 💀. They could want to see you break out of that good girl / good boy routine and try something new and risky. You and this person know of each other but don’t seem to be very close, perhaps they are in your friend circle or you guys are just acquaintances. They often have dirty thoughts of you giving them head and seeing how much you can take of them. This person could wine and dine you first before wanting to go down on you. “Order what you want, girl, it ain't no problem. I'ma tell the waitress that my baby need a bottle. Order what you want, said it ain't no problem. Got a piece of candy and it's all for you. She say she love my lolly. She wanna make it pop. She say she love my lolly. She wanna kiss the top”. They like sex that’s really rough and nasty, if it’s not messy and loud they’re not into it 😭. I see that they’re into positions like 69, cowgirl, and missionary. They’re big on seeing your face during sex, they get really cheeky about the good work they’re doing and would want to pin your hands down so you can beg for more. I do see jewelry and this person wearing chains🙂‍↔️. This person would be more so walking you like a dog but you have them on a leash in the sense you keep them coming back. They could have you walking funny after you’re done 🤭 you might be really sore the next day as well. “There's a reason I walk like this (I walk). My baby, he be lovin' on this (Oh yeah). When he do it, he be workin' that shit (Oh yeah) And every night he got me wantin' more of it”. You might feel confident and pleased after having sex with this person and can feel a sense of relief.

Full reading on patreon

Pile 6:

Shufflemancy -

Play With It by Tommy Genesis

Who Am I (What's My Name?) by Snoop Dogg

Girls Need Love by Summer Walker

The Fool (reversed), The Sun, Five of Cups (reversed), Write a Gratitude List, Take a Walk, Clean Your Space, Family, Not Enough, Ax, & Healing Heart

Pile 6, you still not over your ex, huh 😔? It’s ok, no judgment here, baby 🫶. I see you and your ex still have an attachment together, things might be on and off or you don’t really know where the direction of this relationship is headed towards. I see that you are a very caring person and because of miscommunication, you and this person seem to never be on the right foot. It’s possible some of you who picked this pile have a baby with this person or will get pregnant (please use protection if this isn’t what you want!). I see a lot of fertility going on in this pile, you and this person could prefer to make love or have sex as if you’re making a baby lol. This person could have a breeding kink? They get turned on by the idea of you being pregnant with their child. Whenever you wear sundresses that is also sexy to them. I feel like your body is so tea, pile 6. Either you’re really thick and curvy or your body is just gorgeous to people, especially your sp. This person fantasizes about doing it raw while you touch yourself in front of them. “Play wit' the p*ssy, wanna play wit' the p*ssy. Come get a hooky, baby, come get a hooky. I wanna fuck you, baby, I wanna fuck you. If we not fuckin', baby, come get it poppin'”. This person is scared to fully pursue because you seem to be in a place of healing in your life and doesn’t want to add to that. There is another person that is new coming who also wishes to take your ex’s spot 👀 Oop! I feel like this will be their friend who will make passes at you and this will make your sp really jealous lol. In the bedroom, their jealousy could make them more dominant and want to take control. There is a lot about wanting to hear you moan or scream their name. They can be very vocal too i'm getting a lot about hissing so maybe they hiss whenever you get their spot? PHEW- They could want to fuck you doggy style while they spank your ass. “She want the nigga with the biggest nuts, and guess what? He is I and I am him. Slim with the tilted brim, what's my motherfuckin' name? Snoop Doggy Dogg (The bomb). Snoop Doggy Dogg Snoop Doggy Dogg (The bomb)” they can be really boastful after sex if they get you to cum and you can get annoyed by this lol. You might tell your person “it wasn’t even allat🙄” and they’ll tease you cus they know it was 😋. I see this person providing you with aftercare and massaging your back and feet. Even though you might not be together at the moment, this person really values you as a person and knows their place.

Full reading on patreon

Pile 7:

Shufflemancy -

Hey Daddy (Daddy's Home) by Usher

JT Coming by JT

Huff n Puff by Red Velvet

Page of Swords, Knight of Wands (reversed), The Emperor, Be Still, Energy Work, Sync with the Moon, The Snake, Lightning, & Separation

Alright this is giving my queer pile 🥰, very androgynous energy all around here 😎. Regardless of what your gender might be, both you and this person are independent and like to have things a certain way. You could have met them through a dating app or while on a date with another person (Crazy work but ok 😂). I'm getting maybe someone is a bartender or works at some place where they have to socialize a lot. You and your sp are very flirtatious towards the other but someone gets super shy when it comes to compliments. This is for a select few of you but some of you might be transgender? Perhaps you are a trans man/woman and this person is cisgender. You might be nervous to be too flirty with them in case they might reject you but honestly i'm getting go for it baby, life is too short to be worrying about those things (just remember to be safe is all 🫶🏽). This person will be very polite and respectful towards you so just allow yourself to unwind when you go out with this person. "I ain't gotta do a lot of flexing (Uh-huh). Shorty, you already know what it is. Ha, and girl, tonight we gonna do a lot of sexin', yeah. Can't nobody do your body like this." They could be very forward and direct when it comes to communication they do not like beating around the bush, i'm getting someone likes to man spread a lot or you will notice that they sit with their legs open. Laaaawd when I tell you this person has a big 🍆 or owns one, they will have that shit ready for you LOLLL. This person gives big dick energy they're just very secure with themselves and how they carry on. You might feel insecure about some things and ask them "does this bother you?" or "do you find this attractive?" and they're gonna be like "yah" to everything. THEY MIGHT NOT EVEN GIVE A VERBAL RESPONSE TBH they just might nod their head or whatever and look at you like "is we fuckin' or what 😏🎶?". To them, these questions don't make sense like for example they would think "why wouldn't I like hip dips?" or "facial harmony? what the hell does that even mean? I don't care about that, I care about you." So if you are someone who compares themselves to people on the internet truuuust when I say this person is not chronically online to understand any of that shit. They like what they see and they just want to give it to you and more. "It's been a while since you gave, ho, it's time to give it up (Give it up). Like a bitch with a fresh BBL, you can't sit with us (Nah). Fine motherfucker, white boys say I rock (Hah). I gotta stay protected 'cause y'all stay on my c*ck. My new whip beautiful, I call it p*ssy whip. It was a gift, my nigga friends say he p*ssy whipped." Your sp might be older as well or very mature for their age.

Full reading on patreon

Pile 8:

Shufflemancy -

SHY GUY by Tinashe

Good For You by Selena Gomez ft. A$ap Rocky

Unfold by Alina Baraz

Seven of Swords, Five of Pentacles, The Star, Journal, Look for Fairies, Movement, Hammer, The Dragonfly, & Self-Indulgence

Aww this is my soft pile 🛌. I see that you guys are very spiritual and dreamy. You might fantasize a lot about this person. For some of you, you might even be manifesting them. I see that the feelings you have towards this person are very tender and loving. I see that this person is very flighty and doesn’t wish to have such a big commitment. This person you are interested could have ghosted you or there’s something wrong with your communication. Maybe you and this person have different time zones or a conflict of schedule. There’s something about the person not being there for you. “Shy guy, always sayin' it's the wrong time. Even though you know it feels right. Love don't fit into your timeline (La, la, la, la). Shy guy, always sayin' it's the wrong time. Even though you know it feels right. Love don't fit into your timeline. Shy guy (Guy, guy, guy, guy, guy)” I believe you are being too kind to this person and need to detach and allow them to chase you. Focusing on yourself and seeing other people will allow this person to show up for you and be the person that you need. Now is the time for you to be self indulgent and take care of yourself. Some of you should practice healing in the bedroom and should learn about what makes you feel good sexually. Perhaps exploring with new partners will help you find new things that provide pleasure. I see that you are very submissive or lean towards more vanilla. Try to vocalize what makes you feel good to your partner and be more assertive. Your energy reminds me of Jhené Aiko’s song “P*$$y Fairy”, very sensual but delicate. To this person if you were to show them your new found confidence, they will crumble to their knees and will feel stunned. They might ask you questions like “where did you learn this baby???” Or “have you been having fun without me?”. They really love how you taste 😳 this sp wants to pull your dress/skirt up or pants off and just go to town. Their favorite thing is when you’re all dolled up and getting ready to go out. “Gonna wear that dress you like, skin-tight. Do my hair up real, real nice. And syncopate my skin to your heart beating. Cause I just wanna look good for you, good for you. I just wanna look good for you, good for you. Let me show you how proud I am to be yours.” I’m seeing that they admire your facial expressions during sex for to them it’s too cute, something about makeup smudging? Things can get really messy 👀

Full reading on patreon

Pile 9:

Shufflemancy -

Come Alive by Jackson Wang

Earned It by The Weeknd

Swim by Chase Atlantic

Eight of Wands, Death, The Hanged One, Dance, Look to the Stars, Sound Healing, The Grim Reaper, Ascending, & Healthy Choices

When I tell you this pile is NASTYYY. It’s honestly crazy how much this person wants to match your freak, pile 9. Definitely saved best for last. The sex almost feels cinematic in a way. Something about this person just gives main character vibes that is so seductive you can’t turn your eyes away from them. I believe your relationship with this person could have progressed pretty fast. For some of you, you could have kissed or even had sex after the first date. While I also see that this is a friends with benefits situation (does someone have a contract?!). You could find them mysterious or wish to get to know them on a more interpersonal level. You could feel that these things are more surface level in terms of attraction and don’t want the intimacy to only be superficial. I see that this sp is charming and prefers to disclose things little by little. “I come alive. You start me up a million times. And I'm terrified. That you could leave me crying.” So this person could be afraid of opening up to you because they are nervous about getting their heart broken. They might have previously gotten out of a relationship and they are learning how to trust in a partner again. Your sp could be afraid of rejection and that's why they are disorganized in terms of how they want to pursue you. Providing this person with assurance will help them gain courage, also pile 9, make sure to do what's healthy for you, try not to overly devote your time to this person. I see that communicating with your partner and talking about how you have been feeling will want to open up more and trust you. Something about wearing lingerie in the bedroom is a major turn on for this person. Taking control and guiding this person will help allow them to let their guard down. "Cause girl, you're perfect (girl, you're perfect). You're always worth it (always worth it). And you deserve it (and you deserve it). The way you work it (the way you work it). 'Cause girl, you earned it, yeah (earned it). Girl, you earned it, yeah". Your sp would be over the moon for you.

Full reading on patreon

[spinecouture]

perverted

word count: 1,180

summary: daryl has a sick obsession, a crush that has become a real pain in his ass. when you ask for a favor, he's more than happy to. hell, he'd kill for you. and a whiff of your panties, but you don't need to know all that.

themes: perverted!daryl, fem!pov, creepy behavior, panty sniffing, male masturbation, intentional lowercase

notes: a sick and twisted idea insp by my partner, my own sick nasty freak <3 a little longer one for you whores!!! feedback is much appreciated.

“daryl,” carol snapped him out of his daydream.

the man never daydreamed, never got lost in thought. at least, not with a smile like that on his face. he sighed, rubbing his face.

“sorry,” he grunted.

carol shook her head, “no, don’t be. you… got somethin’ on your mind?”

something, or someone?

daryl had been thinking about you since his group got to alexandria. oh god, you had him in a chokehold. he was going crazy, thinking about the way your hips swayed, you hair bounced and eyes sparkled. he felt sick, like a damn junkie passing by a crackhouse.

daryl finally shrugged, “jus’ thinkin’ about life, i guess. about bein’ here.”

carol gave a empathetic smile, knowing he had been struggling to move on from all the death, all the loss. he’d struggled to find his place in their new home, too, and that made her nervous.

“you can talk to me,” she murmured.

daryl nodded, “yeah, i know.”

then you walked by, and carol figured it out. she watched the way daryl’s eyes shifted, pupils blowing wide as you walked along the pavement. the way his lips parted slowly, nearly drooling at how your ass looked in those jeans.

“daryl,” carol smacked his arm. “you could at least be more subtle.”

“ah, alright,” the man grumbled, rubbing his bicep. “fuck.”

slowly, though, a smile painted carol’s face. she watched you disappear, before giving daryl a look. “you like her,” she said.

“nah,” his hair fell in his face.

“oh, you so do!” carol exclaimed.

daryl groaned, rolling his neck dramatically, “shut up. ain’t nothin’ happenin’, so jus’ leave it alone.”

“really? i think you deserve someone,” she replied, poking daryl teasingly. “she seems like she’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

“you don’t even know her.”

carol shrugged, “well, i’m just saying. i think it’d be good for you to at least make some friends besides us.”

daryl huffed, pulling a cigarette out and lighting it. he didn’t need friends, or a lover, or anything like that. he was better on his own, anyway.

daryl’s small crush had quickly developed into a borderline obsession. he couldn’t help it, you had something that drove him crazy.

he made a point to come and visit you often, where you usually had a lunch ready for him to take on his supply runs. you had a big smile every time you handed it to him, and it made daryl want to shove his cock past those lips and down your throat.

he loved your voice. he listened to you tell stories, laugh, sing. god, he could listen to you sing all day. he even heard you bickering with someone once, and that had him jerking off against the side of your house, hands slapped over his mouth as he came to the sound of your angry tone.

it got worse and worse with time, because he could barely talk to you most days, but fuck if he wasn’t constantly fisting his dick to the thought of you.

one day, though, it all tipped over the edge. you had enough trust in him to ask if he could grab something from your house.

“daryl, since you’re going that way, can you grab my first aid kit? it’s in my bathroom, under the sink,” your gorgeous voice rang.

he nodded mindlessly, immediately getting up and wandering towards your house. a couple people nearby snickered at his eagerness.

once inside, however, daryl found himself in a pickle. the scent of you was everywhere—your clothes strewn across the hall, your shampoo in the bathroom, the lipstick stains on your coffee mug from earlier that morning. it made him dizzy.

his task was to go straight to the master bathroom, located inside your room, and grab the first aid kit. daryl found himself walking slow, taking in every detail of your home. down the hall, he pondered the photos hanging on the wall, the stains in the carpet. he wondered if you’d lived with anyone else before the outbreak, of the life you might’ve lived.

once in your room, daryl was overwhelmed. your scent was flooding his nose, damnit, he was getting hard just thinking about how you’d look in bed, what you wore.

inside the bathroom, a couple towels and some random discarded clothes littered the floor. but one item in particular was screaming at him. your panties. the tiny piece of lace had daryl’s stomach doing flips, and even as he knelt down to open the cabinet, he was looking at your underwear.

the first aid kit was easy to find. he had no issue with that. his problem was pulling his mind away from your clothes. namely, your little lace panties. his hands squeezed the kit, debating how low he would go.

“fuck…” he hissed under his breath.

it wasn’t long before he gave in. he dropped the kit, and got down on his knees. scooping the fabric into his palms, he admired them, mouth watering. oh god, i’m going straight to hell, he thought. slowly, tantalizingly, he brought your undergarments to his nose, breathing in. fuck, that’s good. daryl’s cock twitched, his head foggy.

“daryl?”

he heard your voice from down the hall, quickly jolting back to reality. in a panic, he shoved your panties in his pocket, grabbing the first aid kit.

“y-yeah!” he called, stumbling out of the bathroom and towards you. “got it.”

your brows furrowed, taking note of his flushed cheeks. “what, d’ya get lost?” you asked teasingly, nudging his shoulder. “c’mon.”

the fabric in daryl’s pocket was burning his skin, making him dizzy and disoriented. he kept walking, though, following close behind you.

daryl had never been so wracked with guilt in his life. even now, laying on his bed alone, he felt sick. because he hadn’t returned your underwear, and he may never. what was worse than you losing your panties? finding out that daryl stole your panties, like a sick freak.

despite this, his fingers were still intertwined with the fabric, slowly wrapping it around his length. hard, twitching and aching, he gripped his cock like a vice. he needed this—that’s how he justified it. it was the only thing keeping him from snapping.

daryl’s head fell back, eyes fluttering as the sweet scent of your pussy mingled with his dick. the scene was deplorable, but it was working. the man struggled to get off for years until you entered the picture. now, he was like a teenager again.

“fuck, fuck, fuck–“ daryl groaned, hand moving faster, tightening around himself.

at some point, he’d adjusted the lace so it hugged the tip, giving his pre-cum something to soak into. the back of his head screamed at him, degrading him for being so perverted, but it only made him harder.

balls tightening, daryl came hard, all over your white lace panties. his load spilled down his shaft, his fingers, as he slowed his movements. once his breathing had evened out, he let the lace fall onto his stomach.

he couldn’t keep doing this to himself.

[hannie-dul-set]

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [2].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst if you squint, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, multiple instances where personal space is invaded HAHAHHA, the boys are very dramatic please understand their yearning hearts. WORD COUNT. 4.5k.

NOTE. woohoo! next chapter to this shitshow! some parts may be a bit confusing and vague....sometimes ominous....but all will be known in due time HAHAHHA (may be tempted to give a spoiler or two if u ask). hope you enjoy! please let me know what you think of this chapter and the story so far!

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 2 — these meet-cutes aren’t cute at all.

YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO READ LIPS. But you don’t need to know how to get the idea that Taehyun is shooting an insult at you right now. His face says it all. “I said you look like hell,” he repeats after you’ve removed your headphones, the music still leaking out even after you’ve settled it down the cemented table. 

“Taehyun’s right,” Gaeul pipes in, and Woohyun seconds it. “You look like crap. What did you do last night?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you grunt, melting into the table. The sound of Yeong-Il’s Second Life is still just barely playing in the background thanks to your loud as fuck headphones volume. “We finished our exams. Of course I stayed up until six in the morning watching dramas.”

Three disappointed stares and one of full respect. “Dude, you’re crazy,” says Huening. “What did you watch? Night Has Come? My Demon? You should’ve invited me. I feel betrayed.”

“Both,” you reply, but you don’t seem all too happy after consuming over twenty episodes worth of dopamine. You’re frowning. You slam a fist down the table and let out a groan. “But they don’t fill the Choi Soobin shaped hole in my heart— fuck! Why isn’t he getting employed? Why hasn’t he been posting on his Insta? It’s been six months since his last drama. I miss him already.”

Huening’s attempts to console you consist of a few pats on your back. Gaeul’s attempt is a lot more effective. “Didn’t you win a slot to Choi Yeonjun’s fansign this weekend? Aren’t you coming?” You spring up with a gasp. “Girl, don’t tell me you forgot.”

“I did! I fucking forgot because I have a deadline on the same fucking day, fuck! I want to die. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Are you still going?” asks Woohyun.

“Of course she is! Deadlines come ten times a week, but the chance to meet Choi Yeonjin comes one in a million!” Gaeul exclaims, then grabs you by the shoulders with a very serious look on her face, as if she wasn’t just disappointed that you sacrificed sleep just to watch a bunch of dramas. “Tell him I’m in love with him. No, wait, I need to tell him that in person. Tell him to wait for me. I’ll get in next time for sure.”

You whine out something that sounds like an agreement. “I haven’t prepared an outfit yet. This is so depressing. Gaeul, help me.”

Taehyun, who doesn’t share any of your unhealthy fixations, still hasn’t crawled out from his state of disappointed concern. “Just make sure you don’t miss your Saturday deadline,” he says. You roll your eyes in response.

“This is me you’re talking to. I may not seem like it, but I have my shit together. You don’t have to worry.”

They hate to admit it, but it’s true.

Your friends have always wondered how you managed to balance your hellish course load, your evening shifts at The Grind, and your hobby of fangirling over pretty and good looking men. The only reason you were able to binge two dramas until daylight is because you’ve finished all your midterm requirements before taking your exams, and you’ll definitely be able to attend the fansign because you’ll somehow finish a thirty-page paper in one day, in between classes and your work shifts.

They’re quite convinced you’re insane. The lifeless look in your eyes as you flit through your flashcards to review for a recitation later is a testament to that insanity.

But sometimes, a little spark of life manages to slip through.

Like right now, as you check a notification in your phone in the middle of reviewing.

“Shit, fuck, shit— oh my god. Yeong-Il dropped an interview, fuck, hold on—”

“Whoa, really?’ Woohyun digs his nose next to you. You guys have a graded recitation in thirty minutes, and you’re walking to the classroom with a blank face zeroed in at your phone screen in landscape instead of the flashcards you have now tossed away into your bag, paying no mind to your surroundings to the point that Gael and Huening have to make sure you’re still walking in the right direction.

Taehyun isn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned. They can’t even tell you off because they know you’ll somehow find the answers to Prof Yang’s questions anyway.

APPARENTLY, THERE’S A CAR ACCIDENT OUT FRONT. On top of having a tiring day of rehearsals and the interview with Beomgyu exposing his delusions on the internet being dropped earlier (they didn’t edit it out, those rats), Yeong-Il isn’t having a good day, so it’s to no one’s surprise the the tension inside their van on the way back to their dorms is rather palpable.

Beomgyu, however, doesn’t feel said tension. Or maybe he just doesn’t care because he’s closing his eyes, ready to nap while all the rest of the vehicles surrounding theirs are honking their horns, and while Jeongin and Jimin are monitoring the interview on a phone. The part where Beomgyu talks about his alleged first love comes up. “Beomgyu,” Heeseung groans, covering his ears with a neck pillow. “Did you really have to say all that?”

“Ahh, quit nagging. No one’s even taking it seriously,” he grumbles, arms crossed and turning over his body to face the window instead of his bandmates.

“Yeah, people are just raving about how romantic Beomgyu is,” says Jimin.

“And making edits of him and Heeseung,” adds Jeongin. “They’re mistaking your stressed-out glances at Beomgyu as signs of unrequited love—”

Heeseung shoves a hand against Jeongin’s face to shut him up. “Still. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.”

“Nyenye. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.” 

They’re friendly as usual. Heeseung can’t put in the last word because Beomgyu has completely transformed into a sleeping position— yet he can’t seem to sleep and rest despite being absolutely fucked out and tired. He lets out a groan, squirming in the car seat. “Ugh.” The car still isn’t moving. The road is still a mess. All he wants is to rest as soon as possible, and he can’t even have that. All he wants is to see you again as soon as possible, and he’s starting to feel like he can’t have that as well.

Beomgyu gives up. He begrudgingly opens his eyes and looks at the state of the traffic out the window. It’s getting dark. Streetlights are being lit up one after the other, and he watches people moving faster than the frozen cars, like the road and the sidewalk are on two separate spaces of time.

A thought enters his head. What are the chances that you’ll be one of the people walking along the sidewalk right now?

“They’re making way for an ambulance.”

It’s a fruitlessly hopeful thought, he knows. It’s a silly possibility to entertain. But still. He can’t help but examine each of the faces passing by in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, his wish from four-hundred years ago will finally fucking come true. 

“Damn, when are we getting home?”

Right when Beomgyu gives up hoping and tries to fall back asleep again, he spots a familiar face walking down the sidewalk. Wait a minute—

“Man, this sucks.”

He jolts up, There’s no way. There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize that expression— stone-cold, looking as if the very thing in front of you is a worthless bug waiting to be stepped on, warding away any possible attempts of anyone bothering you. There are no knives in your hands, but a phone and a paper bag. You’re not adorned in the blue, red, white, and gold like he’s used to, but a large coat draped over your shoulders.

Still. Even if your face is covered by a mask, or if you’ve inhabited the body of a completely different person.

“Beomgyu, wanna play are round when we get—”

There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize you.

Looks like the chances are high after all.

“Beomgyu?!”

The van door slides open. Beomgyu feels the cold air hitting his face as he rushes in between the gaps of the traffic-saddled cars and the spaces in between. He hears Heeseung and Jeongin and Jimin calling after him but he doesn’t give a shit. Not now. Not when he’s sure he finally has you within reach, closing in the gap between you before you can disappear into a corner. Not when all he has to do is stretch out his hand, breath caught in his throat and heart racing, and pull you by the arm so you can turn around and look at him.

And you do.

Your phone crashes to the ground, and you’re looking at him like you want to punch him in the face. Beomgyu’s heart skips a beat.

“What the hell?!”

“It’s you.”

Beomgyu watches your brows knit together, your mouth falling into a sneer. It’s like looking into a time machine. Holy shit. 

“It’s really you.”

That look of annoyance. There’s no denying it. Night has fallen. The only thing illuminating your face is a single streetlight hanging above, but he’d be stupid to mistake you for anyone else. The arm that shakes his hold off is yours. The eyes that are glaring at him— sharp as knives— are yours, yours, and yours alone and he can get lost in them for hours on end. “The fuck? Do I know—” 

Your name falls from his lips for the first time in centuries. It’s always been blurry, always at the tip of his tongue the moment his memories from four-hundred years ago came crashing back to him like a storm. But now, it comes off naturally the moment he sees you. It rolls off his tongue like it’s the only thing he was ever meant to sing.

He says your name once more. Your eyes widen in alarm.

“Are you a stalker?”

“I love you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I love you,” he repeats, breathless. “My biggest regret was failing to tell you how much I loved when I still had the chance.”

“What the fuck? What are you—”

Beomgyu reaches out for your hands, tugging you closer. Your skin burns him. Warm. Alive. “Now that I’ve been given that chance, I’m not letting go of you anymore.” He pauses, practicing the words inside his head before saying, “Let’s get married.” 

“What?!”

“I love you. I missed you. Let’s get married right now.”

You don’t say anything. You’re silent. Beomgyu feels his stomach wrench and drop and hurt all the way to his chest and lungs because why—

Why are you looking at him like that? 

“I’m going to call the fucking cops.” Once again, you shove him off, pulling your hands back and pressing them close to your chest. “There’s a crazy fucking bastard on the— shit! My phone! The screen is cracked, gosh! I haven’t even finished paying for it, for fuck’s sake, you have to— ex—excuse me, are you crying? Are you actually crying? What the hell?”

Beomgu’s vision is cloudy and his cheeks are wet. He knows you’ve always been spunky. You’ve always had an attitude and you two didn’t start off on the right foot, either. But why are you acting like you don’t know him? Like he’s some sort of fucking stranger? 

“Hey, I should be the one crying right now! You broke my phone! What is wrong with—”

“There you are!”

Suddenly, he doesn’t see you anymore. Heeseung’s voice comes crashing in and he gets shoved aside, eyes stinging and mind still in a daze. “I’m so, so sorry for my friend over here. We can’t pay for the damages right away, but please take this. Again, we’re so sorry! Hope you have a great night, still!”

No. He can’t let you slip away again. Not when he can finally hold you in his arms like all the countless times he hasn’t. “Dude, what are you doing?!” Heeseung yanks him back before he can run after you down the sidewalk. “Quit being weird. Why the hell are you crying?”

Beomgyu is having a hard time understanding. He’s not sure if he can’t, or if he simply doesn’t want to believe this— but your eyes don’t lie. He can tell if you’re annoyed by him just by looking at you. He can tell if you’re angry, regretful, elated, or drunk from the onslaught of his affections, so this time— he can clearly tell as well.

He can tell just from the look in your eyes that you don’t remember him.

That all those years of waiting for you was all for naught.

SOOBIN KNOWS THAT HE SHOULDN’T BE HERE RIGHT NOW. He knows that he’s supposed to be on a diet, and he knows that he has a photo shoot for a magazine this weekend. He even got rid of his stash of instant ramyeon because of that, deleted all those delivery apps because this’ll be his first schedule after a few months of taking a break.

But he is here, at one in the morning, in between the isles of the 7-Eleven nearest to his apartment building, because cravings sometimes trump rationality, and god he sure is craving for a cup of noodles. Or two. Two sounds good. And since he’s already here, might as well put a pack of milk bread in his basket. A can of Sprite too. Manager Lee is gonna kill him, but at least he’ll die full and satisfied.

“Hey, hold the door open for me.”

“Don’t you have hands?”

“Nice! They have empty seats outside. Waiting here. Buy me some donuts.”

Ah, shit. Soobin pulls his hood over his head and readjusts his mask. Sounds like a group coming in. He should pay later once the store’s emptier— meaning, he has no choice but to browse for more snacks to add to his basket. Totally not because he wants to, no. 

“Why’d you bring your laptop all the way here? You can continue working in Woohyung’s apartment.”

“Yeah, girl. There’s still a lot of time before the deadline.”

Soobin doesn’t want to eavesdrop, but the voices are talking pretty loudly. He’s dropping a few packets of yakgwa cookies into his basket while listening to a group of college students mourning about their courses. Good thing he chose not to pursue tertiary education. 

“I need to finish this as soon as possible if I want to attend the fucking fansign. Crap, I should’ve switched majors when I had the chance.”

He abruptly stops snack surfing. Wait. Pause. Hold on.

“Should’ve done that before junior year.”

“I know. Shut up. Get me a popsicle, please. Chocolate. Thank you.”

That voice—

“They ran out. Only strawberry or melon. Pick one”

“That’s fucking balls.”

“You’re so eloquent.”

“Suck my fucking dick.”

Okay. Nevermind. It’s kinda weird to hear a voice that sounds eerily similar to the love of his life’s saying so much obscenities. You only spoke pretty words to him before, so maybe he’s just tripping. There’s no way you’d swear so much, so he continues browsing the snack aisle. Maybe he just misses you so much that he’s starting to mistake a similarly sounding voice as yours and subconsciously letting his hopes up.

“Hyun, by the way. I forgot to mention. I met a Choi Beomgyu lookalike last night on the way home from work. It was fucking wild.”

Then again, he thinks, arm paused hovering above a bag of chips. People didn’t really say suck my fucking dick in Joseon era.

Soobin stops filling his basket and starts moving out of the aisle, following the sound of your voice.

“I almost fell in love on the spot, but the guy wasn’t right in the head, I think.” Closer. You’re starting to sound closer. “He knew my name. He kept acting like he knew me and asked me to fucking marry him? I even dropped my phone because he scared the shit out of me. I don’t know, it was wild.”

Where? Where are you?

“Dude, really? No way.”

“I’m serious! I’m telling you—”

Where the hell are you?

“I even got a card from his friend when he dragged the Beomgyu clone away. I have it here, take a loo— wait. Wait. Isn’t BH the agency that manages Yeong-Il? Am I wrong— oh, sorry!”

There you are.

There’s a stain on his hoodie. Bright pink. It matches the popsicle you’re holding, the varsity jacket you’re wearing, and the color painting his cheeks because you’re right in front of him. You’re actually right in front of him right now— face flushed with panic, eyes rapidly blinking. “Are—are you Choi Soobin?” someone says. Not you. You’re still profusely apologizing while trying to wipe away the stain with your jacket sleeve.

“That’s ridiculous, Huening. Go get me some tissues! I’m so, so sorry, oh gosh. I should’ve been paying more attention.”

You’re here. It’s actually you. His heart is racing. He can’t fucking breathe. He’s not sure if he should cry, scream, or all of the above.

But there’s something different. There’s something wrong.

“I can tell Choi Soobin from a picture of his ear! I’m telling you it’s him!” Your attention is pulled away by your companion tugging on your arm. “You’re Choi Soobin, right?! Jipuragi? Figured Obscurity?”

“Dude, you’re making him uncomfortable! Why in the world would Choi Soobin be—”

Soobin pulls down his mask, tugging on its fabric. When you turn back to look at him, your popsicle drops to the ground and you let out a gasp.

Your eyes are shining. You’re beaming. You do recognize him. You do know him.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m such a big fan.”

Just not in the way he was hoping for.

“Y—yeah. Would you like a picture?”

You let out a squeal. So does your friend. This isn’t how Soobin expected his reunion with you to go about. This is wrong. He had it all planned in his head like a screenplay, and all that was left was to execute it without fail.

The moment he sees you, he was supposed to spin you around and hear your laughter fluttering in the air. He was supposed to hold you in his arms and give you the first kiss he’d been saving in this life because he’s been waiting for you all this time, yearning for years and years to give you the life he wasn’t able to in the past. To make up for everything you missed because in this life— there’s no class system to keep you apart. There’s nothing stopping him from loving you out in the open.

He didn’t expect to give you his autograph and take a fan selca with you after years of waiting.

This is so wrong. This is so freaking wrong.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” who he assumes is your friend says, and you’re smiling so, so brightly while looking at the photo of you and him that everything he wishes to say and profess and confess just lodges in his throat, blocking everything in its path.

“Thank you! Don’t worry, we won’t post this anywhere,” you say. Soobin holds back the inhuman urge to tell you why settle for a photo, when you can have him instead?

“S—sure. Anytime.”

“Ah, we should probably give you some privacy now. Huening, stop gawking! Anyway, fighting! We’re looking forward to your upcoming dramas!”

Just like that, you leave. You walk out of the store and join the rest of your friends outside, and he sees you showing off the signature he left on your receipt from the window, when he could give you so much more than that, when you could show off that you already own his entire heart. This...this really isn’t how he wanted to reunite with you. And the underlying reason for it something he doesn’t want to entertain.

“YEONJUN, YOU’RE UP IN TEN,” says a staff member. It’s the last week of promotions, and Yeonjun is getting his hair and makeup retouched one last time before he’s set to go uponstage to open the fansign. His manager tells him not to do anything stupid, or scandalous, or all of the above onstage— an almost everyday reminder that Yeonjun, more often than not, isn’t interested in listening to.

“Noona, you should trust me more,” he reacts, a slight whine in his tone. Manager Kim’s expression is nothing but dubious.

“At the very least warn me before you do something insane so I can prepare.”

“Will do,” Yeonjun grins, and his manager waves him off. Screams erupt the moment he emerges from behind the stage curtains, and everything else just comes naturally for Choi Yeonjun— not needing to second guess when he blows a kiss mid-performance, stirs the crowd with a comment or two, and making sure that all eyes are on him, almost as if he was born on every stage he steps foot on.

And to think he started this career without any desire for stardom.

Now, there’s nothing he desires more than blinding lights and the visceral sounds of cheers.

“A—ah, hello!” 

Well. There is one thing.

“Crap, I—I’m so nervous I don’t think I can breathe.”

“Oh no,” replies Yeonjun to the fan sitting before him, marker in hand as he flips open the tabbed page on the nth album splayed out on the table. “Should I give you CPR to help you start breathing again?” 

The girl lets out something sort of a squeal. He grins out a laugh and asks for her name and if she’s eaten anything yet.

“Thank you! Oh— oh, wait, one more thing—”

“Next!”

It’s a fast paced rotation. It always is. But Yeonjun uses the split second before the next person carousels in front of him to make a quick scan across the people lining up, across the people waiting in the audience seats, clinging onto the sliver of probability that this may finally be the day where his years of yearning for the ghost of past can finally end— well overdue for god knows how long already. 

He reuses and rehashes the same lines, same dialogue, and same greetings for the next person, and the next person, and the next and the next and the next. It’s just one face after another. Not that he’s bored, or unappreciative of the fans that spent their time (and truckloads of money) to see him. But it’s human to feel a sense of disappointment when the face he wants to see doesn't turn up after the fifth, tenth, seventh, hundredth, thousand, nth face, fansign after a fansign.

“Next.”

His wrist is getting sore, back is getting tired, but Yeonjun readies himself for another round of mindless chat, missing the opportunity to do his routine scans when he closes his eyes to roll back his shoulders. 

“Oh.”

Yeonjun hears the voice in front of him say. It’s a singular syllable, not even a word, but it’s enough to snap him wide awake.

“Oh my gosh,” you say again. Yeonjun doesn’t feel his fingertips. “You’re even prettier up close, whoa, this is crazy.”

He’s frozen. The usual ments and words and lines that usually flow naturally off his tongue don’t come. His brain is empty. The ink from his marker seeps into the album page underneath his numb hands. He hears his manager say something, but his manager’s voice is so far away— so, so, so far away, but the face he;s been yearning for in his memories is now, all of a sudden and without warning, within an arm’s reach, right before his eyes.

The marker stumbles out of his grasp. If Yeonjun reaches an arm out right now—

“U—uh.”

—he’d be able to touch your face.

“O—oh, holy shit, okay so we’re doing this now.”

And he is. The very feeling of your soft skin, unchanged from the feeling stored in the capsules of his memories, burns stronger than the adrenaline he feels when he’s onstage under the spotlight.

It’s real. You’re real.

You’re right in front of him right now.

“Choi Yeonjun, what the hell are you doing?!”

The hiss of his manager from behind is ignored when he suddenly springs up from behind the table, and you let out a yelp when he drags you up along with him. He’s holding both of your hands, thumbs brushing over the ridges of your knuckles before pulling them closer to his chest. There’s whispering in the background, along with the snaps and flashes of the numerous cameras littered everywhere in the venue.

“Yeonjun.”

He pays no mind to them. Instead he brings up your hands to his face and presses a kiss onto your knuckles. 

There’s a scream and gasp and a yell coming from somewhere. 

“I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

But all he’s focused on is the swirls in your widened eyes, dizzy and taken aback, voiceless with your mouth hanging open. Yeonjun furrows his brows. “Why don’t you look happy to see me, my love?” You hack out a hard cough and Yeonjun drops your hands in surprise. “What’s— what’s wrong?” he stammers, leaning forward and closing into your face while you turn away from him, digging more unease into his bones because this...this doesn’t seem right.

“Sh—shit, I think I need to sit down, oh my god,” he hears you say, and it hits him. Yes. You were never good at expressing your affection. Yes, yes. Perhaps you’re just overtaken by a surge of emotions, that your appearance looks like that of constipated confusion of trepidation as a result of being overwhelmed by the fact that you’re so in love with him and that you’re happy to see him again.

Yes. That must be it. You’re both sat back down, and he scribbles something on your now ink-stained album. “Next.” And when you’re just about to bow and leave, he says your name— one that he thought he’s forgotten— and you freeze.

“Why do you look so surprised?” he laughs. “There’s no need to be shy. Should I kiss you again to ease your— ack!”

“Next! Next person!” 

Suddenly, you’re being scurried away. “No, wait!” he yells out, but the moment he tries to get up again, he’s jerked right back.

His manager is holding the back of his collar, and you’re disappearing into the crowd. Was…was Manager Kim always this strong? He can’t even budge, can’t even run after you after he’d finally been reunited with you again.

“Choi Yeonjun, that’s enough!”

He blinks, remembering belatedly just where he is right now.

There’s still a line of people waiting for him. Yeonjun drops back to his seat, his manager losing her grip on his shirt, and he brings himself back after a round of inhales and exhales. It’s alright, he thinks to himself. It’s gonna work out. “Sorry about that,” he hums, smiling at a now different face sitting in front of him. “What did you tell me your name was?”

You’ve been separated from him yet again, but this time it’s fine. He’s not anxious. He’s certain that it won’t take centuries for you to return to each other, no— it won’t be long until then because this time, he’s not dead. 

You’re both still alive at this point in time.

And that enough assures him that he’s going to find his way back to you.

“Next!”

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[blossoming-mind-palace]

Chung Myung x Reader: "Not Jealous!" (SFW)

Summary: You and Jo Geol are talking about the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, and you can't stop gushing over him. Chung Myung gets jealous

Contains: Mild jealousy & a GN reader

WC: 1630

“Do you guys ever wonder what the Plum Blossom Sword Saint looked like?” Chung Myung’s ear twitched when he heard you say this. “Well, all of the stories make him sound like a badass, so he probably looked the part, too,” Jo Geol chimed in. “What does a badass look like to you, Jo Geol?” You inquired. “Well, he must’ve been a giant. I bet he had a bunch of scars from all of the battles he was in! He probably had an intimidating gaze, too.”

“Respectfully, I disagree.” “Oh? Then what do you think he looked like?” “Hm…” You paused for a second. “I bet he had women all over him!” Chung Myung coughs on his drink and almost spits it out on the dinner table.

Everyone’s eyes are on him. “Are you okay, Chung Myung?” You turn towards him with a concerned look on your face. “Mhm!” He is a terrible liar and is visibly nervous. You decide to not comment on his face because he looks like he doesn’t want to talk about what just happened.

“Okay, back to what I was saying. He seems like the stereotypical heroic type, right? There’s no way he wasn’t popular with the ladies! Especially if he was big like you said. Who doesn’t want a giant and buff knight in shining armor?” Chung Myung is making mental notes on what you're saying. That must be your taste in men, right? His ears turn red while he eavesdrops on your conversation with Jo Geol.

“I guess that makes sense. If he was like that, I’d want to get to know him too!” “Exactly, you understand now!” “I wonder what other features he had…” Jo Geol thinks out loud. Chung Myung has gone quiet and his face is as red as a tomato. He’s stopped eating and can only look at his lap while listening to you gush over his previous life. He wants to scream.

“I don’t know, but he must’ve been a hunk! I bet he was the chivalrous romantic type, too. It’d make sense with the whole heroic reputation he has. Hah, sounds like my type of guy-” “I think you’ve been reading too many fairytales!” Chung Myung snaps at you. You notice he’s pouting, and decide it’s a good time to tease him. “Okay, why does that concern you? I’m just speculating. It’s not like he’s in the room with us, anyway!” “Whatever, I’m done eating!” He stands up abruptly and leaves.

Jo Geol looks startled; an upset Chung Myung is the last thing the disciples need. “I wonder why he’s so pissy? It’s not like he’s cared about my taste in men before!” You sigh and watch as Chung Myung slams the door on his way out.

Everyone except you knows why he’s like this. They’ve watched him steal glances, listened to him praise you after training, and noticed the special treatment he gives you. He doesn’t steal from your plate, he sneaks in booze for you and gets jealous when other disciples spend too much time with you. Jo Geol has seen this all before with other disciples. He knows for a fact that Chung Myung is in love with you and is currently jealous!

“Maybe you should go talk to him, (Y/N)?” Jo Geol suggests. The sooner you smooth things over, the sooner peace will return to Mount Hua. “Why?” “Well, something you said must’ve upset him!” “But I didn’t do anything besides praise the Plum Blossom Sword Saint!”

“Look, (Y/N), if he’s still like this tomorrow he’ll make training feel like hell on Earth. Please, smooth things over with him for all of us! We don’t want to face his wrath tomorrow!” “You’re being dramatic, but okay.” Jo Geol breathes a sigh of relief when you finally leave the dinner table.

-

Knock knock knock. “Chung Myung, is anybody home?” You ask and wait. A couple of seconds pass by with no response. You knock again. “Chung Myung, can I come in? Please?” You’ve started using your gentle and sweet tone. It’s the one you use when you want him to be soft towards you. “Fine.” He opens the door and has a massive pout on his face. This grown man looks like a kicked puppy, and it’s taking every ounce of self-control you have to not giggle at him. He moves to the side, lets you enter his room, and closes the door behind you.

You look him in the eyes, and you’re ready to confront him. “What’s up with you?” “Huh?” “Your mood suddenly changed during dinner, and now I’m concerned.” “It’s nothing!” His cheeks and ears are turning red again. He looks adorable when he’s like this!

He starts to panic as you close the distance between you two. Since his face is flushed, you decide to check his temperature. His eyes go wide when you put your hand on his forehead. “What do you think you’re doing!?” “I’m just concerned about your health! Your face is red, you feel hot, and you’ve been acting weird!” “Look, I’m not sick, so back up! Please…”

His tone softened at the end, and you decide it’s high time to stop teasing him. You remove your hand and back up. “Then what’s your problem? You were obviously upset at dinner. Was it something I said?” “...” “If you won’t tell me, I’ll have to figure it out myself!” Your mind replays all of the conversations you had during that time. You guys talked about food, how hard training was today, legends and heroes… Wait, that’s it!

“You weren’t upset until I started praising him!” “W-Who!? I have no idea what you’re talking about!” “The Plum Blossom Sword Saint! You’re jealous of the Plum Blossom Sword Saint!” “I am not!!” “Yes, you are!” “Am not!” His face couldn’t get any redder. This is ridiculous! Why would he be jealous of himself? “Just admit it! You’re jealous because I kept talking about how attractive he must’ve been.” “So what if I am!? What’re you gonna do if I say I’m jealous, anyway?” You pin him against the door. “Do you wanna find out?”

Chung Myung feels like he’s going to explode in any second now. When did you become so assertive? And who do you think you are, pining your senior to the door like this!? Your face inches closer to him. “Say it.” “No!” “Say it!” “Absolutely not!” “Pretty please, sahyung?” You purr into his ear. “That’s it, I’ve had enough of your shit! Why do you even care so much? Do you want me to be jealous!?” “Maybe…”

The tables turn when he trades places you. You’re caged between his arms and the door, and there’s no escaping at this point. He asks,” Why are you like this?” “Because I like it when you’re flustered. It’s cute.” Your hand raises and you softly caress his face. He grabs your hand, but instead of ripping it away, he buries his face into it. 

“You think I’m cute?” “Mhm!” You’re pleased with your progress. It seems like he’s starting to calm down now. His eyes are still furrowed, and while he looks you in your eyes, he asks,” Do you think I’m cuter than him?” “Pardon?” “Don’t make me repeat myself!” Oh, he’s so cute when he’s flustered!

“Yes, Chung Myung, I think you’re cuter than the Plum Blossom Sword Saint,” you say as you cup his face in your hands. “You’re probably stronger than him, too.” “Hah, I don’t know about that…” He rubs the back of his neck. All of these compliments are making him nervous! “I do, and I think you’re the strongest, hottest hunk Mount Hua has ever seen!” You start peppering his face with kisses. His heart feels like it could explode in any second!

His eyebrows have relaxed and now he can’t stop smiling. “You have the prettiest smile, too! Oh, and your eyes are so captivating! I could stare into them forever!” “Stop it, I’m not that handsome…” He’s rubbing the back of his neck as he sheepishly looks away. You can tell he’s nervous.

“I disagree,” You kiss his forehead, and look down at his lips. “Hey, Chung Myung…” “Hm?” “Can I kiss you here?” You ask innocently as you poke his bottom lip with your pointer finger. His heartbeat can’t go any faster; you’re going to be the death of this man! “Y-yeah…”

You grab his chin and pull him forward. Your lips meet, and when you try to pull away Chung Myung pouts. “Oh? Why’re you upset now?” “You know why!” You smile softly at him and give him a couple more kisses, but these are more drawn out than the first one. You’re both panting when you finally pull away.

“There, are you happy now?” “Maybe…” “What do I have to do to turn that into a yes?” Your response makes him feel shy, and he goes quiet while trying to figure out how to reply. You decide to take the lead. You grab his hand and lead him to the bed. “Lay down so I can coddle you,” you tell him. He obeys, and you follow suit. He lays his head on your chest, meanwhile your hand is running through his hair while the other rubs circles on his back. He feels like he’s on cloud 9.

“Are you happy now?” “Mhm…” he mumbles into your chest. You whisper under your breath,” You’re such a big baby…” “Huh!?”

-

The next morning, the disciples noticed Chung Myung was acting weird. He was happy… a bit too happy. They definitely weren’t complaining! A happy Chung Myung is better to train with than an angry and violent one. Jo Geol will have to thank you later.

[amuseoffyre]

Thinking about the current series of Who again in the context of the overall arc beginning with the Toymaker episode and the running thread of media and self-awareness within the show.

The Toymaker set things in motion with Stookie Bill, invading and overpowering the world through the very first television broadcast and "if the very first image has been hiding in every screen ever since, sneaking into your head, carving a wave and waiting", wouldn't something like that leave a mark?

We know the Toymaker has 'children' of a kind in the shape of Maestro, a creature that consumes and manipulates music. We also know a fragment of the Toymaker (eta. forgot it was the Master trapped in there) was picked up by someone/something at the end of the episode.

We also know there's something bigger than Maestro on its way - The One Who Waits.

It got me thinking about the genre jumping this season has been doing all over the place and the way different kinds of media and watching and use of media is critical to every bit of the plot.

The Church on Ruby Road - Ruby's life is very literally the subject of a television show which is the trigger for her becoming the target of the Goblins (Documentary)

Space Babies - a group of children confined in a space station with tasks and jobs and monitored by someone unseen who is watching them and will speak to them through an audio system (Big Brother)

The Devil's Chord - Centred on real musicians saving the day with a show-stopping finale significantly with "we should visit [Star Trek]", Maestro playing the Who theme music, diagetic sound being mentioned and multiple characters breaking the fourth wall, suggesting self-awareness of being part of the media (Musicals)

Boom - A dramatic war story where someone goes in search of their lost father on the battlefield spiced up with conspiracy of Big Capitalism's war profiteering (War films)

73 Yards - All the broadcast and media related elements that help Ruby piece together her role and defeat the villain of the episode without doing anything herself with all cameras pointed and focused on her - she is the object who is being watched but uses that as a weapon, turning the MP character into the subject (Horror/Fairytales)

Dot and Bubble - this one speaks for itself, really. The echo-chamber of 'influencers' sustaining themselves on a self-feeding fatuous loop of people so awful that the AI designed to protect them eats them XD (Youtube-style media)

Rogue - they're cosplaying Bridgerton. The Doctor, Rogue, Ruby, the villains. They're all cosplaying Bridgerton and say as much in the dialogue. It's a play. A drama within a drama. About watching and waiting for the narrative beats and recognising the arcs and trying to rewrite the story (Bridgerton)

Then we have the recurring character (played by Susan Twist) who appears through all of the episodes, which is what's bringing me back to Stookie Bill and the concept of someone being present inside the story from the beginning.

What if she is the one who waits? She keeps recurring in every storyline they stumble into because - like Stookie Bill - she's "hiding in every screen ever since, sneaking into your head, carving a wave and waiting".

And, because my brain makes giant leaps of logic, it made me think of the most famous icon of the BBC from back in the day: the Test Card F screen, that was put on the screen when no shows were playing. It was on screens across the world for decades. It was iconic and it was a sign to wait for your shows to come.

One who waits with a puppet and a game :D

[d-criss-news]

From Hedwig to Helperbot: Darren Criss Looks Back on His Stage Journey

It’s nap time for Darren Criss’s newborn son, Brother, when the Glee star hops on our video chat. The camera’s off, but he quickly turns it on to say hello face-to-face dressed in workout clothes — a green sleeveless top and a ball cap — as he tries to do some chores at the same time.

Criss has a limited window at home as he prepares to star in the new musical Maybe Happy Ending, now playing at Broadway’s Belasco Theatre. The story, with book, music, and lyrics by Will Aronson and Hue Park, takes place 100 years in the future in Seoul, South Korea. Criss plays Oliver, an obsolete Belperbot along the lines of Siri or Google, “except more human-like, who is definitely past his prime and has been just waiting [in a Helperbot retirement facility] for his owner to pick him up,” Criss describes to Broadway Direct of the role. He stars opposite rising star Helen J Shen, who plays Oliver’s retired Helperbot neighbor. “It almost feels like two people in an old-folks’ home trying to connect with a family member.”

The plot sounds dramatic, but “make no mistake: This is a musical. It’s a musical comedy,” says Criss. “It has a lot of heart and a lot of joy and a lot of humor and amazing music, and it’s a hell of a spectacle.”

His friend Michael Arden, who won a Tony Award for his direction of Parade, was a big reason for Criss to sign on to the project — and serve as an executive producer as well. Arden brought the show to Criss’s attention many years ago, and again recently when Criss was starring in Little Shop of Horrors Off-Broadway.

“This had been kind of percolating for a while, and between the pandemic and strikes and just a lot of other things, that really comes down to timing. So the stars just kind of aligned,” Criss says.

Criss, a figure on Broadway for well over a decade, started to gather a following while at University of Michigan as a founding member of Team StarKid, the student-run theater company behind the viral Harry Potter musical parody A Very Potter Musical. His big break came on the hit Fox TV show Glee back in 2010. The show had already aired for a full season before he was cast as Warbler Blaine Anderson and future love interest to Chris Colfer’s Kurt Hummel. If not for Glee, he believes his career would not have had the same trajectory.

“I felt like this was my master’s in performance of music on camera,” Criss says, admitting that, until Glee, he didn’t consider himself a singer — rather, a musician who acted. “I have that show to thank for giving me any headway in the musical-theater space.”

In the middle of filming Glee in 2012, his Broadway debut called. Criss was asked to succeed Daniel Radcliffe in How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying for three weeks during a winter break from filming Glee. “I left on, like, a Friday night from my last day of shooting. I started rehearsal on a Saturday. Within 10 days, I was on a Broadway stage. I left my Sunday matinee, got on the plane, and went to work [at Glee] Monday morning as if nothing had happened. So it was a bit of a fever dream. It goes by as quickly as it came, like all other moments in life.”

Three years later, Criss stepped into his next Broadway role. This time, he played Hedwig in Hedwig and the Angry Inch for about two and half months, succeeding John Cameron Mitchell. “People always ask me, ‘What’s your dream role?’ I’m like, ‘I kind of did it,’” he says of the opportunity. “Hedwig was a role I always loved so much when I was a teenager, and getting to jump into it was so special to me and my wife. We both love Hedwig so much. It’s a big part of our relationship.”

More recently on Broadway, Criss starred in the play American Buffalo with Laurence Fishburne and Sam Rockwell in 2022 for a three-month limited run. “I completely idolized them,” he says of his scene partners. “I mean, if you see a pattern here, I recommend this to everybody, to just chase their heroes. I’ve just been chasing my heroes my whole life, and I’m not being bashful about it at all.”

Getting Rachel Evan Wood to play Audrey opposite Criss’s Seymour in Little Shop of Horrors at the Westside Theatre earlier this year was something that he says was his idea.

“I pitched her pretty hard,” he said of getting casting directors to choose the Westworld actress as his costar. “When they heard her sing, I think it was very clear that this wasn’t like a favor to anybody. She was doing us a favor. The fact that she said yes just blew my mind.” The role of the nerdy floral shop worker wasn’t something Criss thought he’d get the opportunity to add to his résumé “because it just was never something that I thought anybody would let me do. … I wasn’t sprinting to that in the way that I was the other things in my life.”

Criss welcomed Brother, his second baby, this past June with his wife Mia. The timing couldn’t be more coincidental, since their first, Bluesy, was born during his run of American Buffalo.

As our conversation comes to a close, Criss says he kind of got all of his chores done and haphazardly put things away and folded laundry. The next project he wants to pursue is his writing, something he hasn’t tackled much in five years. Until then, he’s reveling in Maybe Happy Ending.

“I do find myself at a loss for words, trying to truly put into words how special this experience has been,” he adds. “I think it really is a thing of beauty that can really add quite a bit of ornamentation in perhaps a grim world.”

[mskenway97]

Come My Way

I've been listening to a cover of 'Come my way' for a few days now. this story came to my mind.

ROTB Optimus Prime x Fem!human!reader

Words :1.215

Summary: You had always learned to keep how you felt in your heart of hearts that everything was under control until someone came along and proved you otherwise.

Warning: g/t fluff, confort, hide feelings

Y/N usually had her problems under control, but this problem was bothering her too much.

No one will come to help you when you are alone. The world is a cruel place and you have to adapt. That was what Y/N's father always told her.

Y/N got to hear those words all her life until she moved to New York, so she could get the job in screenwriting: Y/N got the essence of every action part, serious situations…

But her bosses saw the lack of feeling, the lack of soul….

-I understand, what your bosses mean - Noah said as the two of them were talking on the fire escape of their floor.

Y/N sighed as she looked at him - And the explanation? - Y/N said looking expectantly.

-I have seen your works are excellent… Maybe you should focus on feeling it? Those butterflies in your stomach when you see that person, those thoughts that you would do anything for him?

-What do you mean? - Y/N asked as Noah was taken aback.

-Girl… Having a crush on someone. Come on there must be someone who has caught your heart

Y/N came up with the idea of someone, that someone is over 16 feet tall, who could practically fit in the palm of your hand. He came from space…he was literally a truck. It was because he saw Mirage turned in front of the same fire escape where he was sitting. You found all of them intriguing, but the big truck that appeared before her. Even though it was distant at first…. He approached Y/N in ways she didn't expect.

-Look if you've blushed, then someone," Noah said, teasing her a little.

Y/N nudged him as he got up and walked down the stairs.

-Aren't you coming to the warehouse today? Mirage wanted to show a new dramatic scene for your scripts," said Noah.

-Another day… I have to finish this script any way I can. I'll go to the warehouse as soon as I finish it - said Y/N as he walked away to his house.

Y/N was locked up at home for several days trying to finish the script, she had an internal conflict with her father's words… She started to rethink a lot of things. She just wanted to finish the script… but maybe it was also creating doubts about what she felt.

Until she heard the horn and went out the window to see the Freightliner just down the street flashing its lights. Y/N knew what that meant she went downstairs and changed her clothes. To see the doors were open as she approached the truck. It was a little colder until she bundled up some more. The door closed behind her and she settled in.

-Hi Optimus, I didn't expect to see you here - Y/N said as she felt the belt tighten, she heard a little radio.

-I haven't seen you in the warehouse for a while… Noah said you were making a new script. Are you okay? - Optimus said as he drove to a more secluded road.

-Yeah, it's no problem at all…

-Y/N… You have dark circles under your eyes, red eyes… From what I can tell you're not well," Optimus said as he drove to an open field area away from the people.

It was a wooded area where you could see the lights of New York but far away where calm and silence was all around. The truck opened the door to let you out and transformed in front of you. His transformation was something that had always fascinated you. Giving you again those butterflies you tried to ignore again.

-I'm telling you everything is fine, nothing to worry about," Y/N said trying to sound calm, but with Optimus it had always been different, he always read her like she was an open book.

Optimus knelt down in front of her as he gave her a somewhat serious look and pulled her chin up with his digit.

-Y/N… Tell me

Y/N sighed and began to speak - I'm locked in a love script but see it as empty and devoid of feeling, it also partly confuses me with my own feelings… I mean ideas.

Optimus hummed and took her in his servo bringing her closer to his chassis while Y/N was feeling nervous.

-Transmitting words and actions to people is one of the most difficult things you can do… Y/N just transmit them

-That's easy to say, some people are just afraid of rejection…. Sometimes they think that being left alone is the best thing to do. I mean, who is the person who will be there or the person who will listen to everything you say," said Y/N as he saw his other servo stroking his head.

-Isn't it worth it, at least to have felt it? - said Optimus making his deep baritone make Y/N shiver a little and those butterflies feel stronger.

-But if that feeling is only fleeting? You are afraid of not being worthy? To be worthy… - Y/N said as she fell silent feeling his words in her mind.

"No one will come to help you when you are alone. The world is a cruel place and you have to adapt."

Then in the middle of the mess of mind Y/N felt a soft kiss on her forehead by Optimus, making her blush and leaving her speechless.

-Close your eyes and listen," Optimus said as Y/N didn't hesitate at all in doing so.

She could hear her heartbeat and the buzzing of Optimus' spark as she felt Optimus playing with her hair in his digits.

-It has nothing to do with being worthy or unworthy. But how they both feel… Cybetronians feel deeply we show our feelings to the one we care about… In times of war, we would do the same as you but I have learned several things about your species. We are not so different," Optimus said as he stroked your neck.

Y/N's heart was racing almost a thousand revolutions per minute, feeling every touch, his cool metal touch giving her some comfort. No she wanted it to stop. Her father's words blurred in the atmosphere as the night surrounded only them.

-I wish we'd stay like this. Just like this… - Y/N said without thinking as Optimus smiled.

Y/N was catching the feeling she had long repressed, she thought it was a dream but it was not. It gave her a shiver as she felt the servo tighten a little more and she opened her eyes.

To see those blue optics gazing at him with pure devotion and love to feel her lips meeting his. There were no words needed to say only that they both felt something mutual.

Y/N had understood the feeling, the dream she thought she couldn't make come true. She had forgotten the world to just feel that warmth, that tenderness even though she was a huge metal being despite the differences they would both have.

She would always have someone in the world who would not leave her alone just like him.

Always coming to him no matter what.

[melon-fodder]

personal sappy sort of vent but not really? bnha melon origins under cut hahaha

Once upon a time at the start of the pandemic, I was getting back into writing fanfic thanks to bnha. I read some fics on this site, my introduction to ‘x reader’ and I thought to myself “ya know I have a lot of time on my hands, and these people look like they’re having a good time posting these stories, so I’m gonna try”.

And so I did. I wrote and posted a little mirio shot first, and then a shinsou shot, and then I wrote a soulmate AU for Aizawa that gained a little bit of attention followed by an endeavor fic that gained more.

And because it was the pandemic and everyone was online all the time, the engagement was high. My inbox was full of asks about those two, and I just got to talk and talk about them. I made mutuals. I made friends. I joined my first discord server. I kept writing.

@lady-lauren and I started DMing, going from writing to like life stories basically. The paragraphs we were sending back and forth lmao thinking about it makes me laugh. And she introduced me to Nyki, and we all just existed and created and consumed.

There was a lot of toxicity in the bnha fandom back then, though. I mean, there still is, but it was different back then somehow. I had my favorite characters, and Aizawa was a really big one, but I ended up sort of drifting. Or distanced myself, I guess. Because of another writer. The way that they created and interacted with fandom, with characters. It felt… weird to write for him while sharing a space.

Anyone close to me or who has been around for these almost 5 years (omg kill me) might have an inkling about what/who I’m referring to, so I do want to state that in no way was I told to stop writing for Aizawa or that I was bad at it or anything like that. That person actually liked my version of him and told me! So the whole feeling like I couldn’t write for him was entirely self-imposed.

Anyway, a lot of stuff happened that made it harder and harder to enjoy being a part of the bnha fandom on tumblr, including the passing of one of my best friends. I still found inspiration here and there, usually for nighteye, but I was mostly out of it. I even stopped keeping up with the manga after a while.

There’s just so much personal shit wrapped up in a series that’s already full of emotion. I haven’t felt equipped to deal with all of it

Until recently.

I don’t know what clicked tbh. I was at my mom’s recovering from surgery, and I just decided it was time. The epilogue was leaked or whatever and so many blogs that I used to see post every day woke up and started interacting again, even if it was just to comment on the leaks, and it got me so nostalgic and…

I don’t know. A lot of time has passed. A lot of people have come and gone. I feel like… it feels like I don’t have eyes on me anymore. For a long time when I was posting for bnha it just felt like people were watching me with less than good intentions. It’s one of the reasons I’ve switched blogs multiple times.

But I feel better now. I feel safe. I feel a lot more stable than I did back then. Those were kind of wild times on tumblr I do not think I would want to go back.

Except for in this one particular way which is to let myself fall back in love with the series that got me into anime as a whole, the series that got me writing again. The character that made me want to sit down and write again.

I have a few favorites from the series, but tbh I think Aizawa will always be the most special simply because he was my spark. He symbolizes so fucking much for me, and that sounds so dramatic, I know, but he is quite literally the character that got me on tumblr. He was my beginning, and then I felt like I couldn’t even enjoy him for years and it sucked and I just

I’m emotional. I just. Have a lot of feelings from over the span of 4 years that I’m trying to process.

tl;dr: if it wasn’t for bnha and Aizawa specifically I wouldn’t be on this site, and I am very happy to be creating for the series and his character again

[awkward-imaginations]

| Reunions and Rivalries |

tetsuro kuroo x f!reader

The first time Kuroo saw you was when he noticed you sitting with Kenma, happily playing video games together. He would have been lying if he said he wasn’t surprised when Kenma mentioned he had made a friend on the first day of the new school year. He didn’t share much about you, but Kuroo knew you had just transferred to Nekoma High and somehow you had piqued his interest.

warnings/notes: highschool romance, fluff, slight angst, I do NOT write fanfictions or storys normally, this is a first, so I am generally sorry for everything. CRINGE. def will be cringe in some parts. I'm a big sucker for Kuroo, him and Kenma may be ooc but I don't care this is my silly story and I just need to get it out of my head so I can finally write my Master's Thesis in peace. Also, english is not my first language. This has been "proofread" by my friends (who are also non-native speakers, enjoy).

word count: 2659

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The familiar sound of Karasuno players shouting to each other filled the air as the Tokyo team approached. You walked next to Yaku, chatting casually, when suddenly two familiar figures came sprinting toward you.

“Y/N!” Nishinoya shouted at the top of his lungs, while Sugawara waved enthusiastically from behind him. Before you could even react, Noya wrapped you in a tight hug, nearly knocking poor Yaku off his feet in the process.

“Noya! Suga-Chaaaan~!” you grinned, pulling Sugawara into the hug as well. Noya, now gripping your arm dramatically, suddenly shifted his expression to one of exaggerated misery.

“Y/N!” he whined, pushing you away just enough to meet your eyes, still holding onto your arm. “You have no idea how terrible school is without you. It’s been torture!”

You laughed, playfully pushing at Noya’s shoulder. "Oh, come on, Noya. It can't be that bad."

"It is that bad!" he insisted, throwing his head back in exaggerated despair. "Ever since you transferred, it's like the life has been sucked out of our classroom. I can't even focus on anything anymore!"

Sugawara chuckled, shaking his head at Noya's antics. "I think you just miss having someone to cheat off of during tests."

Noya pouted, clutching his heart as if he’d been gravely wounded. "How could you say that?! I would never cheat! I just… I mean, maybe I miss having Y/N to help me out once in a while, but that's totally different!"

You smirked, crossing your arms. "Uh-huh, totally."

Nishinoya groaned, burying his face in his hands. "You don’t understand! It’s like no one else gets me. The energy in class is so dull now, Y/N! I'm completely doomed."

You rolled your eyes affectionately, patting Noya on the head. "You’re being a bit dramatic, don’t you think?"

"Not dramatic enough!" Noya cried, throwing his arms wide for emphasis. "It's been painful without you. Seriously, how do you survive at that new school? Do they at least let you sleep through class?"

You chuckled. "It’s not so bad, actually. I’ve made some new friends, and I still get plenty of sleep."

Noya looked betrayed, his eyes wide. "New friends? What, and you didn’t miss us at all?"

"Of course I missed you guys!" You reassured, smiling. "But you know, life moves on. Besides, we still get to play Guild Wars together."

„Yeah, nice raid yesterday,” Nishinoya exclaimed, fist bumping you.

Kuroo, watching the scene from a few steps away, furrowed his brow slightly. “So, she's close with the volleyball team at her old school too?” he asked casually, glancing over at Kenma.

“Hm?” Kenma blinked, only half-listening. “Obviously,” he said with a shrug. “Why? You jealous or something?”

Kuroo scoffed, his expression tightening for a moment. “What? No,” he replied, though his gaze drifted back to you, now laughing a bit too hard—at least from his perspective—at something Sugawara said. His jaw clenched involuntarily.

“You sure?” Kenma muttered, still not looking up. “Because it kind of seems like you are.”

“I’m not,” Kuroo grumbled, crossing his arms defensively. “Why would I be—”

His words trailed off as Daichi approached you, a calm but warm smile on his face. He greeted you with a firm hug, his arms wrapping around you in a way that spoke of years of friendship. “It’s been too long, Y/N,” Daichi said, his voice soft. “It’s a nice surprise you’re here.”

You smiled, your face lighting up. “It feels like ages.”

Kuroo watched the exchange, feeling his heart sink just a bit. Daichi’s hug wasn’t overly affectionate, but there was a sense of familiarity between you two that stirred envy in him. He tried to brush it off, forcing a smile, though it felt stiff on his face.

“The third years used to be in the same class as her brother since Kindergarten,” Kenma said quietly, as if reading Kuroo’s thoughts. “They’ve known each other for a long time.”

Kuroo exhaled, rolling his eyes, though the slight tension in his shoulders didn’t ease. “Great. Old friends,” he muttered, his smile feeling more and more strained.

Kenma smirked. “You’re terrible at hiding your feelings.”

"Wait… she has a brother?" Kuroo asked, his tone sharper than he intended.

Kenma gave him a surprised look. "You didn’t know? Yeah, L/N Ryouta—he goes to Nekoma too."

Kuroo’s mind raced. "L/N Ryouta? I don’t think I’ve met him."

Kenma shook his head. "Probably not. You’re in the university prep class, and he’s in regular courses. Still, kind of strange she didn’t mention him during one of your study dates."

Kuroo’s lips tugged into a slight frown. "We’re studying, not chatting." The fact that you had a brother he didn’t know about made him feel a little out of the loop. He didn’t like it.

Kenma shrugged. "It makes sense she'd be close with them. They’ve been hanging out since she was little."

Kuroo watched you laugh with Daichi and Sugawara, Noya had left you to help Tanaka “protect” Shimizu. You clearly had a lot of history with these guys. The way they greeted you, how easily you fit into their circle—it was obvious you were used to attention from boys. It bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Just as he was about to look away, you caught his eye and waved, your smile brightening. For a split second, you seemed to hesitate, a faint blush coloring your cheeks as if you hadn’t expected him to be watching. Kuroo smirked, feeling a little more at ease now.

Daichi, noticing your reaction, raised an eyebrow. "Who's that?" he asked, his tone casual but curious.

You turned back to Daichi, still smiling. "Oh, that’s Kuroo, Nekoma’s captain. You should probably go introduce yourself."

Daichi nodded, though his expression became a little more guarded. "Right. I’ll go say hi."

As Daichi walked over, Kuroo straightened up, masking his emotions behind his usual confident grin. Daichi extended his hand, his smile polite but strained. "Daichi Sawamura, captain of Karasuno."

Kuroo grasped Daichi’s hand, matching his too-firm grip with one of his own. "Tetsurou Kuroo. Captain of Nekoma."

Both captains forced smiles, but in the back of their minds, they had the same thought: I don’t like this guy.

“So… you’re not their manager?” Sugawara asked, giving you a playful nudge as he leaned against the wall next to you in the gym, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Nope,” you chuckled. "I’m just here for moral support.”

Sugawara laughed. “Then I can support you supporting. We've got a cracking new setter, so I'll probably be on the bench the whole time.”

There was an ease between you and Sugawara that came with familiarity. You caught up on everything—school, mutual friends, and volleyball, of course. Time slipped away as the two of you talked, oblivious to anything else happening on the court.

Except someone was paying attention.

From across the gym, Kuroo’s gaze flickered toward you more than once. He tried to brush it off, but the more you laughed with Sugawara, the harder it was to ignore the twist in his chest.

“Oi, Kuro,” Kenma muttered, not even looking at him as he noticed the subtle tension radiating off his captain. “What’s up with you?”

Kuroo blinked, dragging his gaze back to the court just in time to see one of Karasuno's players miss a spike. “What do you mean? Nothing's up.”

Kenma sighed. “You’ve been staring over there for the last ten minutes. You’re distracted.”

“Distracted?” Kuroo scoffed, though his eyes flicked once again in your direction—watching as Sugawara leaned in to say something that made you laugh. Why does he get to make you laugh like that? Kuroo felt his jaw tighten. “I���m not distracted. Just… keeping an eye on the competition. You know, strategy.”

Kenma raised an eyebrow. “Sugawara isn’t even playing.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes, “You mean Suga-Chaaan~,” he mocked your greeting only to feign indifference afterwards. “I’m not watching him. Why would I care about some third year who isn’t even in starting lineup?”

Kenma looked at him blankly for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know. Why would you care?”

“I don’t,” Kuroo huffed. “As I already said, it’s not like I’m jealous or anything.”

Kenma eyes flicked toward Sugawara, then back to Kuroo. “I didn’t say you were.”

“I’m not,” Kuroo added, a little too quickly. “I mean—”

“Kuro,” Kenma interrupted, his deadpan expression growing sharper.

“I—" Kuroo hesitated, suddenly aware of how ridiculous he sounded. “I’m just looking out for her.”

Kenma’s lips twitched into the slightest hint of a smirk. “Sure.”

Across the court, Sugawara was finishing a story, his eyes twinkling as he spoke. You laughed, leaning in a little closer. Kuroo’s eye twitched.

“It’s not like they’re flirting,” Kuroo mumbled under his breath, though his voice lacked conviction.

“What was that?” Kenma asked, not bothering to look away from the ball on their side.

“Nothing!” Kuroo snapped, a little too loud, drawing some curious glances from nearby players.

You and Sugawara, still chatting, were blissfully unaware of Kuroo’s growing frustration. Every time Sugawara made you laugh, it felt like a small jab, not because he disliked Sugawara, but because… well, he wasn’t entirely sure why. Or at least, he wasn’t willing to admit it yet.

The match was in full swing, as Shimizu joined you and Sugawara at the side, observing as the teams went back and forth on the court. You’d fallen into an easy rhythm with Sugawara, catching up and making jokes, but now that Shimizu had joined you, the conversation was a bit more reserved.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Shimizu turned toward you. “You’re not their manager, yet you’re wearing their jersey,” she remarked softly, her eyes following the ball.

“Yeah, it actually belongs to Kenma, we're about the same size, thought it would boost the team spirit” you replied, smiling fondly.

Shimizu nodded thoughtfully, glancing between you and Kenma on the court. “He seems to enjoy your company.”

You blinked, catching the subtle implication in her tone. “Wait, do you mean…?” You hesitated, feeling a slight blush creep up your neck. “You think I like Kenma?”

Sugawara, who had been listening in with a bemused expression, chuckled under his breath. “Oh no, Shimizu,” he said, shaking his head, “you’re way off.”

Shimizu tilted her head slightly, giving Sugawara a questioning look. “Really? I thought—”

Sugawara waved her off with a smile, clearly amused. “Trust me, I’ve known Y/N for a long time. She doesn’t go for the quiet, brooding type.”

You narrowed your eyes at Sugawara, half-embarrassed. “Hey, I can like quiet guys,” you defended, though it came out more as a weak protest than anything else.

Sugawara gave you a teasing smirk. “Maybe, but not that quiet.” He leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Kenma’s great and all, but your type’s always been more… I don’t know, bad boy. The kind of guy who’s a little rough around the edges, gets under your skin.”

Shimizu blinked, her curiosity piqued. “Bad boy…?” she repeated thoughtfully, then her gaze drifted toward the court where Coach Ukai stood, arms crossed, observing the match with his intense focus. She nodded in his direction. “Ah. You mean someone like Ukai?”

You nearly choked, waving your hands in protest. “What? No way! He’s… hot, sure, but he’s way too old!”

Sugawara burst out laughing, and even Shimizu’s usually calm expression cracked into a smile.

“Nah, I wasn’t talking about Ukai,” Sugawara chuckled, nudging you playfully. “I had someone more… age-appropriate in mind.” He pointed subtly across the court to where Kuroo was setting up for a block, his sharp gaze focused on the game, his usual smug grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “I was thinking more along the lines of that bad boy.”

You froze, suddenly feeling like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs. “Kuroo?” You hadn’t even realized it, but the moment Sugawara mentioned it, something clicked inside you—like a light had been switched on.

Sugawara’s grin widened as he saw the realization dawning on your face. “There it is,” he said, his voice smug but not unkind. “Ryouta told me you just can’t shut up about him.”

You could feel the blush deepening, the heat spreading up to your cheeks. “I… I don’t…” you stammered, not quite sure how to deny it now that it was out in the open.

Shimizu watched you carefully, her quiet gaze perceptive. “So, it is Kuroo?” she asked softly, her voice neutral as ever, though there was a trace of curiosity.

You glanced at her, feeling a little trapped but knowing you couldn’t lie, especially not with Sugawara there, reading you like an open book. You sighed, defeated, and ran a hand through your hair. “Okay, fine,” you muttered, embarrassed but kind of relieved to admit it. “Yeah… I think I like Kuroo.”

Sugawara looked like he’d just won a game. “I knew it,” he said triumphantly. “I could tell from the beginning.”

Shimizu gave a small nod, her expression thoughtful. “He does seem like someone you’d get along with,” she said quietly.

“Well…” you began slowly, a shy smile creeping onto your face, “he is pretty great. He’s been really nice to me, even when he’s annoying.”

Shimizu gave you a small, knowing smile.

Sugawara’s grin softened a bit, turning more genuine. “Sounds like you’re smitten.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Don’t make it sound so cheesy.”

He chuckled. “Hey, no judgment here. I’m just glad you finally realized it.”

You groaned, half embarrassed but secretly hopeful. “Great, now I’m going to be overanalyzing everything he says to me.”

Sugawara laughed, clapping you on the shoulder. “That’s part of the fun. Just keep me updated.”

Later that night, the team piled into the bus, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence as the Nekoma players settled into their seats. You slid into a spot next to Kenma, Kuroo sitting in the row just ahead, his head tilted back against the seat.

As the bus started to roll down the road, you pulled out some flyers Sugawara had given you earlier and turned to Kenma and Kuroo. "Hey, by the way, Sugawara invited me to a festival nearby. His and my brother’s band, Secondhand Youth, is opening." You held out the flyer so they could see. "You guys listen to pop-punk, right?"

Kenma glanced up from his DS, raising an eyebrow, but before he could say anything, Kuroo replied a little too quickly, "Sure!" His voice was overly enthusiastic, and his eyes darted to you for a reaction.

Kenma blinked, clearly unimpressed. He gave Kuroo a sideways look, stifling a smirk as he mimicked, "Sure." His tone was flat, dripping with sarcasm.

You snorted, trying to hide a laugh, but Kuroo shot Kenma a mock glare. “What? It’s not like I don’t listen to it.”

Kenma couldn’t resist. “Name one band.” He leaned his chin on his hand, watching Kuroo with a blank stare, knowing full well his friend didn’t have a clue.

Kuroo paused, clearly stumped, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for a band name. “Well, Secondhand Youth, obviously.” You couldn’t help but giggle, and Kuroo turned to you, his expression a mix of mild panic and frustration.

"Okay, fine, maybe I’m not a huge fan," Kuroo admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "but I’d still go. For the experience, you know?"

Kenma rolled his eyes but kept a small smile on his lips. “Yeah, the experience of pretending to like music you’ve never heard of.”

You nudged Kuroo’s seat playfully from behind, your smile softening. "You don’t have to, Kuroo. But… you’re welcome to come, if you want."

Kuroo’s eyes met yours, his expression softening as well. “Nah, I wanna go,” he said, his voice sincere this time. “Could be fun.”

Kenma returned to his game, though he couldn’t hide the amusement in his eyes as he watched you and Kuroo interact.

[charcubed]

"Did you love medical school?" Avery asks Max.

"Medical school is the greatest longest hardest thing you're ever going to do," Max says, not answering the question, as he is already fucking famous for doing to get out of talking about himself.

(But this is not a post about Max. This time.)

The use of the word love here and the subtle framing of medical school as a relationship... Well.

My theory for Avery since the start has been that part of her arc is going to be growing to understand herself and realizing that becoming a doctor is not synonymous with fulfillment.

In episode 2, we got her saying,

"I've given up everything good. Everything that matters. Relationships, family. All for this job. And at the end of the day… I'm alone. Adrift. With nothing to show for it. I'm never going to be a doctor. This is all there is for me."

(This follows a pattern of a thing this show does with dialogue where characters say things that are more revealing to us as the audience than the characters themselves are conscious of, but that's a point for another post.)

Her bucket list included,

"I want to know myself."

because she doesn't know herself yet.

And now we got,

“I always thought that if I became a doctor things would start to make sense.”

I think Avery wants far more than just being a doctor... or, to be fully honest with you, I think they're conceivably going to go the route where she decides she doesn’t need to be a doctor because she’s found fulfillment in her life and work (and love!) in other ways anyway. I’m not talking “Rachel gives her life up for Ross” type of bullshit with two men instead of one, but rather tied into the explicit arc of how Avery wants to know and understand herself because she doesn't currently, and the "you're never alone" theme. That's part of what this pregnancy and future abortion plotline is setting up anyway: it's a brute force tool for self-reflection for her.

Does Avery really want to be a doctor, especially at the expense of all other parts of her desires? Or has that just always been The Plan and is she unconsciously thinking that earning that title will fix the holes she feels in herself and in her life?

If you think this sounds tricky to pull off as a story, you'd be correct – but hey, so is polyamory, and yet they're doing that. They’d have to write Avery's arc well enough that it doesn’t come across as reductive, but I really think they could land it because of the character setup they seem to be doing for her – and I've thought that for several weeks already. This week just has me locking in on that possibility more.

Now, going off the rails here from meta to straight up crack theorizing even though it's way too early to be predicting shit...

Weeks ago I was already wondering… what if the season ends with Avery going to leave to become a doctor and the guys decide to follow her? Maybe even in a big dramatic traditional “they run off the ship / to the airport” sort of romantic scene sort of way lmaaaooo. And as the boys abandon ship to follow her, at the same time, SHE turns around to go back to them without knowing they were following her! Idk. Who knows! Not me. Like I said, way too early to know anything.

Regardless though, the Hot Take™️? I would not at all be surprised if Avery changes her mind about wanting to become a doctor. And I think it could, if done correctly, be a weirdly bold move (in a show that's already planning to pull off A Big Bold Move).

[yoomiwrites]

Aromatic Rush

Summary: Reader has an easy life in the navy. Until Aokiji comes to them with a mission that calls more into question than they thought.

Note: We reached the goal so the next Rush is coming! This time, it is NOT with all admirals but focused on Kuzan only. I'm pretty sure Akainu doesn't have as much fans as Kuzan, so I might post his story as well. We'll see! For now, enjoy the first chapter! (I might do a sequel for this story, depends on you after the whole thing is posted)

The alarm buzzed faintly in the dim light of dawn, but I was already awake, staring at the ceiling as I had been for the last few minutes. The sound wasn't annoying—just part of the routine. The ticking of the clock, the soft rhythm of my breath—everything followed a quiet, familiar pattern. Nothing dramatic ever happened, and I liked it that way.

Sighing, I slid out of bed and headed to the kitchen. Breakfast was always the same: toast, a soft-boiled egg, and a cup of green tea. Simple. It wasn’t exciting, but it was enough to start the day without complicating things. The steam from the tea curled lazily into the air, just like every other morning.

As I ate, my mind wandered, not to big dreams or wild fantasies, but to the day ahead. Work. I had a job to do, a quiet one, but it was important. I looked after the seagulls and den den mushi snails that the Marines used for communication. I wasn’t a fighter or someone on the front lines, but my work kept things running, kept messages moving. That was enough.

Once breakfast was done, I washed my dishes, tidied the small apartment, and checked the clock. Right on schedule. Everything in its place, exactly as it should be. No surprises. No interruptions. I found comfort in that.

When I arrived at Marine HQ, the same white walls and orderly corridors greeted me like they always did. I’d been here for years now, long enough to blend into the background. I rarely interacted with anyone outside my little compartment. The admirals, the vice-admirals—they lived in a world far above mine. I barely saw them, and even when I did, I kept my head down. I preferred it that way.

My world was smaller, quieter. The compartment where I worked wasn’t impressive, but it was peaceful. The snails blinked slowly in their cases, and the gulls rustled their wings in calm, lazy movements. It was easy to fall into the rhythm of caring for them. I checked the snails, made sure they were healthy, fed the seagulls, and kept everything running smoothly. My fingers brushed the snails’ cold, smooth shells, a small reminder of the routine I loved. The gulls’ soft coos filled the air, a familiar background noise that I relied on.

There was something beautiful in the simplicity of it all. I knew that to some, my life might seem boring, repetitive even. But in a world as chaotic as this one, I valued the quiet. The control.

It was enough.

As the day wound down, I finished up my tasks, checking on the snails one last time before closing up. The gulls were settled, feathers tucked, ready to sleep. Everything was in order, as always. I packed up my things, ready to head home, when something made me pause.

The air felt… different. A shift, a presence I hadn’t noticed before. Slowly, I turned, and my heart nearly stopped.

Standing at the entrance to my small compartment was someone I’d only ever seen from a distance. Tall, with disheveled black hair and eyes half-lidded with lazy disinterest, he seemed almost too big for this tiny space. His long Marine coat draped over his shoulders, loose and casual, as if he couldn’t be bothered to wear it properly.

Admiral Aokiji—Kuzan.

I froze, unsure of what to do or say. Admirals didn’t come down here. They didn’t even know this place existed, let alone step into it. His presence filled the room in a way that felt unnatural, like the balance of my world had just shifted without warning.

For a moment, he said nothing, just stood there with that unreadable, lazy expression. His hands were in his pockets, and he seemed almost as if he might turn and leave at any second, as if he’d wandered in by mistake.

But then, he spoke. "Yo," he said, voice as lazy as his posture. "You got a minute?"

[toomanyrobins2]

Our Manhattan

Summary: An orphan all her life, Y/N is simply too old to remain at The Bowery Home any longer. That is where an anonymous patron has swooped in to send her off to college and all he requires…a monthly letter of her academic progress.

Based off the book and musical “Daddy Long Legs”

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

last part // series masterlist // next part

Notes: I'm finally getting around to updating this fic! If you would like to catch up and get more consistent updates to this story and others I would go to by AO3!

24th March, maybe the 25th

Dear Batman,

I don't believe I can be going to Heaven—I am getting such a lot of good things here; it wouldn't be fair to get them hereafter too. Listen to what has happened.

Y/N Abbott has won the short-story contest (a twenty-five dollar prize) that the Monthly holds every year. And she's a Sophomore! The contestants are mostly Seniors. When I saw my name posted, I couldn't quite believe it was true. Maybe I am going to be an author after all. I wish Mrs. Lippett hadn't given me such a silly name—it sounds like an author-ess, doesn't it?

Also I have been chosen for the spring dramatics—As You Like It out of doors. I am going to be Celia, own cousin to Rosalind.

And lastly: Harriet and Barbara and I are going to New York next Friday to do some spring shopping and stay all night and go to the theatre the next day with 'Master Brucie.' He invited us. Harriet is going to stay at home with her family, but Barbara and I are going to stop at the Martha Washington Hotel. Did you ever hear of anything so exciting? I've never been in a hotel in my life, nor in a theatre; except once when the Catholic Church had a festival and invited the orphans, but that wasn't a real play and it doesn't count.

And what do you think we're going to see? Hamlet. Think of that! We studied it for four weeks in Shakespeare class and I know it by heart.

I am so excited over all these prospects that I can scarcely sleep.

Goodbye, Bats.

This is a very entertaining world.

Yours ever,

Judy

PS. I've just looked at the calendar. It's the 28th.

Another postscript.

I saw a street car conductor today with one brown eye and one blue. Wouldn't he make a nice villain for a detective story?

 

7th April

Dear Batman,

Mercy! Isn't New York big? Worcester is nothing to it. Do you mean to tell me that you actually lived in all that confusion? I don't believe that I shall recover for months from the bewildering effect of two days of it. I can't begin to tell you all the amazing things I've seen; I suppose you know, though, since you live there yourself.

But aren't the streets entertaining? And the people? And the shops? I never saw such lovely things as there are in the windows. It makes you want to devote your life to wearing clothes.

Barbara and Harriet and I went shopping together Saturday morning. Harriet went into the very most gorgeous place I ever saw, white and gold walls and blue carpets and blue silk curtains and gilt chairs. A perfectly beautiful lady with yellow hair and a long black silk trailing gown came to meet us with a welcoming smile. I thought we were paying a social call, and started to shake hands, but it seems we were only buying hats—at least Harriet was. She sat down in “front of a mirror and tried on a dozen, each lovelier than the last, and bought the two loveliest of all.

I can't imagine any joy in life greater than sitting down in front of a mirror and buying any hat you choose without having first to consider the price! There's no doubt about it, Bats; New York would rapidly undermine this fine stoical character which the Bowery Home so patiently built up.

And after we'd finished our shopping, we met Master Bruce at Sherry's. I suppose you've been in Sherry's? Picture that, then picture the dining room of the Bowery Home with its oilcloth-covered tables, and white crockery that you can't break, and wooden-handled knives and forks; and fancy the way I felt!

I ate my fish with the wrong fork, but the waiter very kindly gave me another so that nobody noticed.

And after luncheon we went to the theatre—it was dazzling, marvellous, unbelievable—I dream about it every night.

Isn't Shakespeare wonderful?

Hamlet is so much better on the stage than when we analyze it in class; I “appreciated it before, but now, dear me!

I think, if you don't mind, that I'd rather be an actress than a writer. Wouldn't you like me to leave college and go into a dramatic school? And then I'll send you a box for all my performances, and smile at you across the footlights. Only wear a red rose in your buttonhole, please, so I'll surely smile at the right man. It would be an awfully embarrassing mistake if I picked out the wrong one.

We came back Saturday night and had our dinner in the train, at little tables with pink lamps. I never heard of meals being served in trains before, and I inadvertently said so.

'Where on earth were you brought up?' said Harriet to me.

'In a village,' said I meekly, to Harriet.

'But didn't you ever travel?' said she to me.

'Not till I came to college, and then it was only a hundred and sixty miles and we didn't eat,' said I to her.

She's getting quite interested in me, because I say such funny things. I try hard not to, but they do pop out when I'm surprised—and I'm surprised most “of the time. It's a dizzying experience, to pass eighteen years in the Bowery Home, and then suddenly to be plunged into the WORLD.

But I'm getting acclimated. I don't make such awful mistakes as I did; and I don't feel uncomfortable anymore with the other girls. I used to squirm whenever people looked at me. I felt as though they saw right through my sham new clothes to the checked ginghams underneath. But I'm not letting the ginghams bother me anymore. Sufficient unto yesterday is the evil thereof.

I forgot to tell you about our flowers. Master Bruce gave us each a big bunch of violets and lilies-of-the-valley. Wasn't that sweet of him? I never used to care much for men—judging by Trustees—but I'm changing my mind.

Yours always,

Y/N 

 

10th April

Dear Mr. Rich-Man,

Here's your cheque for fifty dollars. Thank you very much, but I do not feel that I can keep it. My allowance is sufficient to afford all of the hats that I need. I am sorry that I wrote all that silly stuff about the millinery shop; it's just that I had never seen anything like it before.

However, I wasn't begging! And I would rather not accept any more charity than I have to.

Sincerely yours,

Y/N Abbott

Bruce stared down at the check. He had barely thought about it when they had been out in the city and once Y/n had sent the letter, he’d dispatched the check without a second thought. 

Clark Kent, who had been present during the discussion about Y/N's shopping woes, entered the study with a knowing expression. "Having trouble with the whole 'helping' thing?" Clark quipped, a  smile playing on his lips.

Bruce sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just wanted to make things a bit easier for her. She didn't have to return the check."

Clark leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. "Bruce, you know Y/N at this point. She's independent and proud. Accepting help might not come naturally to her, especially from someone like you."

Bruce frowned, the frustration evident in his eyes. "But I want to help. She shouldn't have to feel lesser than her peers."

Clark nodded, understanding Bruce's genuine concern. "Maybe it's not about the help itself, but how it's offered. Try sending her a letter with a short note explaining why you sent the check. Make it personal. Sometimes, a few carefully chosen words can make a big difference."

Bruce considered Clark's suggestion, recognizing the wisdom in his friend's advice. "You think that might work?"

"Y/N's a writer, Bruce. Words matter to her. A thoughtful note can make the gesture feel less like charity and more like a friend looking out for another," Clark explained.

Taking a deep breath, Bruce reached for a pen and paper. 

Miss Abbott, I go against my rules by penning this letter but I find myself unable to let this matter go. This check is not charity but a gift from a friend who wishes to see you excel in all matters. I wish you to be able to experience all that your peers are able to. I have never sponsored a woman before and I confess that I lack the knowledge to ensure that you are equal to your peers.  I kindly request that you keep this cheque as an apology for my own failings as your patron.  Mr. Smith

As Bruce sealed the letter, he handed it to Alfred, who was passing by. "Alfred, make sure this gets to Miss Abbott. And let's hope this time, she accepts it."

[widowwaddles]

Don’t Go Baking My Heart - Part 4

Summary: After a breakup, you decide to pack up your life and move to Westview. A coworker recommends you join the local community's cooking class in order to settle into the new town. It sounded like a great idea, you could learn a new skill (that you desperately need) and meet new people. However, nothing could have prepared you for the green-eyed beauty you met during class. Maybe you'll end up leaving the class with more than just a basic understanding of cooking.

Taglist:  @xxxtwilightaxelxxx, @wandabear, @diaryoflife, @supaheroine, @anaaam​

A/N: This part kinda sucks, but I promise the next part will be better.

Word count: ~3.4k

Warnings: self-harm/unhealthy coping mechanism, sad Wanda

Masterlist

Part 3

---

Wanda’s Fairy Tale Ending

Wanda Maximoff was a mystery. You didn’t know much about her or her life, besides the little tidbits and stories she’s told during class, but that didn’t deter you from catching feelings for her. The connection you felt during your first meeting felt genuine and authentic, and you thought she felt it too. By the way, she allowed you to see her in her most vulnerable state, and comfort her - as a complete stranger. The kiss you shared filled you with hope and opened the door to endless possibilities of what it would feel like to have Wanda - to be with her. And it made you so happy, so excited for the future.

Until it, all shattered, and now you were left feeling numb.

Walking back into your apartment, you fell face-first into your couch. You couldn’t believe how a day that started off so good, could end with you feeling as if someone pulled your heart out of your chest and stomped on it. Many would call this dramatic, and you would wholeheartedly agree if this happened to someone else (I mean who falls this deep for someone they’ve known for less than a month) - but fate had an interesting way of grounding you back to reality.

You weren’t even upset or angry with Wanda, the entire situation just left you feeling confused. You didn’t think that you misread the signs going on between you; she kissed you first. You spent the entire day together, so how did she just so happen to conveniently leave out such a big part of her life - her family. She has never brought them up, not even during class. You didn’t think Wanda would be the type of person that would hide something like this, but the fact that she did left you with so many questions. Why would she kiss you if she’s still married? Did you inadvertently become a homewrecker? What were Wanda's intentions with you? How far would things have gone, if you hadn’t found out this way? Would she have ever told you the truth?

A buzzing interrupts your thoughts. Groaning, you pull your phone from your pocket - you had no plans of talking to anyone tonight.

Wanda:

I am so sorry for how things ended tonight. Can we please meet up? I want to explain everything to you.  

She’s been calling and texting you for the past hour, but you weren’t in the best mindset to respond after you left her house. You knew that you should accept Wanda’s request and listen to her explanation, but you couldn’t - at least not now. You weren’t ready to accept the reality of the situation you found yourself in - you were scared of how fast things have changed and what this conversation would mean. You didn’t want to lose Wanda before you even had her, but you didn’t want to be a part of any plan that would wreck the family she built. So you replied with the first thing you could think of before shutting your eyes, ignoring the slight aching in your chest.

---

“Breathe for me”

“I can’t, I can’t!”

“You can” the voice soothes. “Look at me”

Worried green eyes stared at the woman in front of her, who’s refusing to open their eyes.

“Wanda, please” the woman tries again, but firmer. Grabbing the younger woman shaking on the floor, she pulls her into her body. Cradling Wanda in her arms, she whispers into her ear, trying to coax her out of her panic attack.

“You don’t understand Tasha” she hiccups, ripping her body away from her best friend. “You didn’t see the look on her face after Vision and the kids showed up….it was like- “ her eyes flooded with tears as she remembered how you looked as you walked back to your car. “I-It always ends like this, everyone leaves me. What is wrong with me, w-why is it that everything falls apart when I try to be happy?”

Natasha pulls Wanda back into her arms before she continues speaking her self-destructive thoughts. Her heart hurts the longer she hears her friend speak this way about herself,

“Is it bad to say that I wanted this so badly? That for once in my life everything felt right” Wanda admits, voice slightly muffled by Natasha’s shoulder. “I didn’t think I’d ever feel this way, and now that I have and now she doesn’t even want to talk to me. I-I don't want to lose her” her soft cries fill the air.

“Wanda, listen to me” Natasha pulls away, looking Wanda in the eyes. “Anyone would be happy to be with you. Don’t use this as an excuse to stop yourself from seeking out your own happiness. You deserve to be happy and loved, and don’t try to convince yourself otherwise. ”

A soft buzzing interrupts Natasha. Wanda quickly pulls out her phone, her heart races as she sees it’s a new notification from you. Natasha reads the text from over Wanda’s shoulder, and watches how Wanda’s face transforms into a frown by the time she finishes reading. 

“It’s gonna be okay, this isn’t the end,” Natasha says, kissing Wanda’s head as the younger woman sits in her arms. “Just give her some space”, wishing there was something she could do to take her pain away.

 ---

One week later 

“Okay, this has gone on long enough” Yelena yanks the blanket off of you. “It’s been a week, you’re not allowed to mope around anymore”

“I haven’t been mopey” you groan out, finding yourself in a tugging match with Yelena over your blanket.

“This isn’t healthy, you haven’t been to work all week. The only time I see you is when I’m dropping off food, because I know you haven’t left your bed” Yelena was worried when she heard you took sick leave, and it only grew as when you suddenly asked her to stop by your apartment. She could instantly tell something was off with you, and no matter how much she wanted to help you, it was obvious that you didn’t want to talk about it. She hoped that you would open up to her when you were ready, thinking maybe you needed a day or two. So she was left doing what she could to ensure that you are taking care of yourself, which involved dropping off food and dragging you out of your apartment to take a walk to get fresh air. As the week went on, things weren’t getting any better, and she didn’t know how much more of your sudden mood change she could take. “Get dressed, we’re going out”

“Yelena, I don’t-”

“I don’t care what you want or how you feel about it. If you don’t want to talk about what’s bothering you, then fine I won’t pry but I’m not letting this go on any longer” she throws a pair of pants and a new shirt she got from your dresser onto your lap. “Get up now” she demands.

You obey, but only because you didn’t have the energy to fight her. You weren’t happy about the situation.

“Where are we going?” you ask from your bathroom.

“It’s a surprise, but trust me it’ll make you feel better in no time,” she says with a smirk that you couldn’t see. “Just meet me in the car”

---

“Is the blindfold really necessary still?” you ask, as you take cautious steps, having no idea where you were or where you were supposed to be going. “I’m sure we’d get there much faster if you took it off,” you say, before stumbling over your feet.

“No, and it won’t be coming off until the very last moment” she catches you from falling on your face. Wrapping an arm around your hip, Yelena continues to “guide” you to your destination. “You might want to get comfortable. Plus this would give you perfect practice for if you were to ever be blinded in a fight” she ends matter-of-factually.

“Now, I’m worried” you stop moving completely. “Listen, I’m sorry for whatever I may have done to tick you off, but this is the wrong way to go about it. You don’t need to do this to me, I’m sure we can find a legal and civil way to handle our differences”

“You’re being over dramatic”, rolling her eyes. “We have to hurry, it's about to start” pulling your body with much less grace than before.

“Okay, there’s a chair in front of you, do you think you’ll be able to handle sitting down?” she teases. Muttering under your breath - about being blindfolded still - you attempt to feel the top of the chair to position yourself in the best position to take a seat. After multiple attempts and reassurances from Yelena that she wouldn’t move the chair for “fun”, you sat in the chair with relief.

“Does that mean I can take it off-”

You hear the door open, and footsteps moving at the front of the room.

“Hello everyone, my name is Natasha and I’ll be your instructor for today,” a voice says.  

“Is this a joke?” Yelena says seriously.

Quickly, you untie the blindfold from your face, eager to see what was happening. You look at Yelena to find her staring ahead with a blank face. As you looked to the front you were greeted by a woman with red hair standing in the front of the room.

“You are the last person that needs to be teaching a class, sestra” she jokes. “Where’s Wanda?”

You felt your body stiffen at the mention of the woman’s name. Natasha has a tight smile on her face as she addresses her sister. “She’s a bit tied up at the moment” she ends, with her eyes landing on yours. “But she didn’t want to cancel the class for today, so I’m here to fill in. She had the recipe printed out on these papers” she begins passing out the papers to each person. When she reaches where you and Yelena were seated, her green eyes bore into yours, as if she’s analyzing you. “Can I speak to you for a moment outside?” It didn’t feel like a question, and as you were about to go into the hallway, Yelena stopped you - as if to check if you were comfortable with Natasha's request. You knew this was her attempt at giving you an out, and if needed she would have no problem protecting you from her sister’s wrath.

“It’s okay,” you reassure her, before making your way into the hallway, a bit nervous about the upcoming conversation.

Natasha is already standing there coolly, her body leaning against the wall. You walk up to her hesitantly.

“Y/n, right?” she asks

“Yeah” you reply. “I’m assuming this is about Wanda”

“It is, she really misses you, but wants to respect your need for space”

“She’s married,” you say bluntly. “And she didn’t tell me about that or her family before kissing me”

“Her situation is…complicated. But if you’d give her the chance she’d want to explain everything to you herself” she rushes out

“I don’t want to be someone’s mistress. I wanted- I don’t know what I wanted but” 

“And you won’t be, that’s the opposite of what Wanda wants” Natasha tries to assure you, but how could you trust her when the things you witnessed that day contradicted everything she was saying.

“Please just hear her out. I promise that what she feels for you is real. I haven't seen this version of Wanda in years, she’s happy whenever she talks about you. She hasn’t been for a while, so you can just imagine my shock when she told me how long you’ve known each other.” Natasha has a distant look in her eyes, as she thinks of the state Wanda had been in. She was like a robot on autopilot, only living out of responsibility for the people that depended on her…until she met you. She remembers seeing the excitement in Wanda’s eyes as she talked about you.

“I was hesitant about how fast she caught feelings for you and I still am because I don’t want to see her hurt, but right now, she is. She’s going through a lot of change right now, and she thinks she’s lost everything like she is incapable of being happy. You were the last straw, of a long list of things that have been building up. I know this was way more than you anticipated when you first met, but you have to make a decision. Either you deal with it together because she’s worth it or you let her go. I won’t lie and say it will be easy, Wanda is complicated, and she’s been through much more than most can handle, but she finds the strength to go on through the people in her life. You are among the few that she lets in, so if you can’t handle it then you owe it to her to end this limbo you’ve been in and let her go. Let her find someone else”

You feel your chest tighten at the thought of letting Wanda go from your life.

“I don’t want to lose her” you whisper. “But it hurts. It hurts being away from her and it hurts when I think of being with her again after what happened”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not easy. You have to make a choice, for both of you” Natasha says squeezing your shoulder before walking back into the class.

You felt like you were suffocating the moment you heard the door close. You’re only left alone with your thoughts and you are your own worst enemy. Your mind races through the possibilities of your impending decision.

You ran outside of the building, desperately needing fresh air. You choked and fell to your knees as the air entered your lungs. Your vision blurs as you stare at your fingers digging into the dirt beneath the grass, desperately needing something to ground you. You want to cry out for help, but the only person you want is far from your reach, and you had no idea if they’d ever be back. Why was it so hard to follow your heart?

---

Boxes.

Boxes.

And more boxes.

Wanda spent her day surrounded by them, and as the people began to migrate out of the house, only they remained to keep her company.

They were filled with memories of a time that Wanda never thought would end, a time she never wanted to end.

This house marked the start of a new life and now marked the end of one. She remembers how happy she was as she walked through the empty rooms, thinking about how long she’s waited for this moment. She was ready to breathe new life into this house and to make it become a home. A sense of stability she’s been craving since her childhood. She rubs her pregnant belly, imagining how her little ones would run happily around the house like she once did with Pietro. Her hand stills as she thinks of her brother, the only family she had left. She misses him every day, but Vision promised her that the family they’ll create would be worth it. Once they’ve grown gray and old, she wouldn’t have any regrets about what      she     they had to give up along the way.

And looking around her now, this was all she had to show for it. An empty house filled with boxes from a life that was promised to her. A life that wasn’t supposed to have an expiration date. A life she fought tooth and nail for since he implanted the idea into her head at the start of their relationship. And a life that he gave up on, when she first caught his infidelity. And then once more, as he served her with divorce papers after counseling, stating that what she wanted was a fairy tale but even that couldn't save their relationship. They were broken beyond repair, and he didn’t see the point in fighting for them, for Wanda, as it was only prolonging the inevitable. The person she left her family behind and burned so many bridges for, had just told her that she wasn’t worth it. And for the first time in 10 years, she was alone, not even the sounds of the footsteps or loud laughter of her children filled the empty air.

Only silence and boxes surrounded her. And as her mind wandered she could only believe that she deserved this. She was too stupid and naive to believe that she’d be able to get a happy ending after everything. When she looks back at the path of everything she’s destroyed, the bridges she’s burned along the way, it fills her with regret. She yearns for the life she had before and wished she would have made different decisions. It makes her feel guilty to admit this because she wouldn’t have her beautiful boys if she had, the only motivation she had for a while to keep moving forward. But even they weren’t enough to fill the hollowness she felt at that moment.

When she thinks of you, her body shakes from the sobs threatening to rip through her throat. Oh, how her body desperately wishes to be wrapped in your arms one last time. But like everything else in her life, she had gone and ruined that as well. Any hope of you coming back into her life dwindled as the radio silence from you continued. She was afraid of reaching out to you first, believing it would only push you away more but by the end of the week, she had to accept that you had already come to your decision about the future of your relationship with her. She was living in a fantasy land if she honestly believed that you would be able to forgive her.  And maybe this was what Vision meant when he said that Wanda wasn’t worth it, she was a fool to believe that you would think otherwise.

The tears stream down her face, showing no signs of stopping. She hunches over leaning her head against the carpet, her hands clenched tightly in fists as she feels the stinging of her fingernails piercing into her palms. The only thing filling her mind are the thoughts telling her that she deserves this pain. That she deserves much more for all the damage she caused, so grips them tighter until she’s sure that she’s drawn blood. The pain had subsided until all she felt was numbness. Craving the feeling - of something, anything - she uncurls her fist and moves her hands to her hair. She digs her fingers into her scalp letting out a frightening scream that burns her throat until all that remains is a soft hiccuping. She doesn’t want this, she doesn’t want to be alone. The one thing she wanted was you, but you were too far from her reach and she knew you would never come back.

Despite this, she couldn’t help but imagine how things would be if she actually lived in a fairy tale. You would come through her door right now, instantly worried about the state she is in. You would pull her into your arms, and she would grip you so tightly, afraid you'd disappear if she let go. She would hide her face in your chest as she whispers apologies. You would squeeze her against your body even tighter, as you imagine what would have happened had you not come when you did. Tears would fall from your eyes as you apologized for not coming sooner before making her promise that would never hurt herself again. You would kiss her hands, she could feel the stinging sensation from your salty tears mixing with her bloody wounds. She would agree only if you promised to stay and let her tell you everything she should have before. You would say you didn’t care about that right now, before promising that you were here to stay. You would carry her to the bedroom, and lay her down as you searched for something to clean her up with. She would grip your shirt tightly, only letting go after you assured her that you would come back.

“Don’t leave me” was the last thing she muttered before exhaustion overtook her body.

[vickyvicarious]

As always, the use of quiet/noise interests me. I especially noticed a pattern of Lucy being quiet ever since the first bite on August 11th. In that entry, Mina does not directly write down any of her dialogue - which isn't necessarily unusual. In fact, Mina seems to have a bit of a pattern of summarizing conversations with loved ones and being more specific when talking with less familiar people. Or at least, being more specific when learning new information or 'interviewing' someone, and giving more of a summary when talking about a day as a whole or so on.

That said, there still does seem to be a difference between Lucy before and after, at least at times. Certainly, during the August 11 entry, we see a similar (though less extreme) juxtaposition of noise and quiet as happened with Jonathan at times in the castle.

I called in fright, "Lucy! Lucy!" and something raised a head, and from where I was I could see a white face and red, gleaming eyes. Lucy did not answer, and I ran on to the entrance of the churchyard. [...] Her lips were parted, and she was breathing—not softly as usual with her, but in long, heavy gasps, as though striving to get her lungs full at every breath. [...] I feared to wake her all at once, so, in order to have my hands free that I might help her, I fastened the shawl at her throat with a big safety-pin; but I must have been clumsy in my anxiety and pinched or pricked her with it, for by-and-by, when her breathing became quieter, she put her hand to her throat again and moaned. When I had her carefully wrapped up I put my shoes on her feet and then began very gently to wake her. At first she did not respond; but gradually she became more and more uneasy in her sleep, moaning and sighing occasionally. At last, as time was passing fast, and, for many other reasons, I wished to get her home at once, I shook her more forcibly, till finally she opened her eyes and awoke. [...] She trembled a little, and clung to me; when I told her to come at once with me home she rose without a word, with the obedience of a child. As we passed along, the gravel hurt my feet, and Lucy noticed me wince. She stopped and wanted to insist upon my taking my shoes; but I would not. [...] My heart beat so loud all the time that sometimes I thought I should faint. I was filled with anxiety about Lucy, not only for her health, lest she should suffer from the exposure, but for her reputation in case the story should get wind. When we got in, and had washed our feet, and had said a prayer of thankfulness together, I tucked her into bed. Before falling asleep she asked—even implored—me not to say a word to any one, even her mother, about her sleep-walking adventure.

It's not as dramatic as the scenes I talked about in the link up above, but there still is a back and forth happening. Mina's loud call breaking the stillness of the night; her running all the way across town, surely panting and feet pounding. When she tries to wake Lucy, to bring her back to life in a sense, she has to get rough and more violent in order to successfully do so. Being gentle and quiet isn't working, at least not quickly enough. Later, Mina still feels conscious of the noise of her heartbeat. It feels like a contrast to how quiet Lucy is. She makes noises occasionally before waking, but they're all pained and quiet - moans and sighs. She wakes and starts to follow Mina home without a word or question about what is happening. After they arrive home, she speaks - to request silence on the matter. The only time she actually tries to talk that we see is when she attempts to insist on returning Mina's shoes. The only 'noise' she really makes is in worry for someone else. (Also, as I said in the post about Jonathan, action goes along with sound here. Lucy is led about, unable to act on her own, throughout almost all of this experience.)

In entries following this, Lucy is often described as either being more lively and cheerful than she has been of late, or as more quiet and distressed. She seems to flip-flop between good health and spirits and being worn out. She's active at night when she shouldn't be (sitting up, pointing to/going to the window, etc.) and tired during the day at times. The good spirits feel a little bit artificial as a result, a lot of the time. Not always; on August 15, "Lucy is full of quiet joy," at the news of Arthur's father's improved health and the wedding coming up. This is a good reminder that she's always been quieter, at least about her true emotions, but when I talk volume here it's not always merely literal. But regardless, her happiness doesn't last, and on the 17th, she's visited at her window again, in one of the worst instances yet.

When I managed to restore her she was as weak as water, and cried silently between long, painful struggles for breath. When I asked her how she came to be at the window she shook her head and turned away.

Lucy's breathing keeps getting worse, and she's not even able to make sounds of distress properly anymore. She also seems to be refusing to speak as well as physically unable. And the next day, when she's much more talkative about the events of the 11th, she herself remarks upon noise/quiet:

"My poor little feet didn't make much noise then! [...] A fish leaped as I went by, and I leaned over to look at it, and I heard a lot of dogs howling—the whole town seemed as if it must be full of dogs all howling at once—as I went up the steps. Then I had a vague memory of something long and dark with red eyes, just as we saw in the sunset, and something very sweet and very bitter all around me at once; and then I seemed sinking into deep green water, and there was a singing in my ears, as I have heard there is to drowning men; and then everything seemed passing away from me; my soul seemed to go out from my body and float about the air."

Lucy's 'dream' is quite interesting in a lot of ways. But most relevant to this post is how all the noise is internal to her. She hears dogs howling (the alarm against Dracula, previously able to awaken Jonathan from a near-trance state*) but they don't appear to actually have been howling in real life. At least, Mina doesn't notice them at any point, and it seems odd that they would all fall completely silent by the time she wakes up. Similarly, the singing in her ears is an auditory hallucination she herself likens to what is said of people drowning; there's not actually singing surrounding her, of course. The experience of sinking into water often feels like sounds are being muffled, and her entire astral projection-esque experience involves all of Lucy's self/life separating from a body that is sinking into 'water'/being drained by Dracula. It's only when Mina brings her back that she is able to return, and once she does, she's silent. Her physical self has been weakened/silenced by the experience throughout. When she finishes telling this story, she laughs in a way that creeps Mina out. Though Lucy is now more alert/talkative, the things she is saying are pretty distressing - and she speaks in a "half-dreaming kind of way", too. Even though she is talking, she still seems somewhat muted, or the noise she makes (like her laugh) isn't quite right in some way, at least until Mina changes the topic and she comes back to herself.

I'm not really going anywhere new with this, I know, just... enjoying looking at it, I guess.

* Unlike Jonathan, Lucy is not freed. Perhaps because she is too susceptible, perhaps because her sleepwalking state renders her too deep under the surface of consciousness to become aware. However, especially in line with the possible link between her and the dog atop Dracula's grave, I find the fact that she heard this 'warning sign' to be good evidence that some part of her was trying its best to fight back. Some part of her recognized the danger and tried to fight it off, and that part sounded like the dog who tried to warn everyone at the funeral. Unfortunately, just like that dog, she is unable to stay away and falls under his influence.

[scrumptiouswordsthings]

Rosemary in The Sandman

We meet Rosemary in Ep. 4 of The Sandman, A Hope in Hell, and she is one of the characters who had some big changes from the comics (WARNING: spoilers for comics and Ep. 4 ahead).

For anyone unfamiliar or in need of a refresher, in the comics, she appears in Passengers (Preludes and Nocturnes #5), and she is a nurse driving past Arkham Asylum when John Dee (naked) accosts her and demands she drive him to Mayhew. During the drive, and while being held and gunpoint, she attempts to offer him some kindness - she offers him a sandwich, her husband's coat, and listens to him expound on his life story. She mentions her two daughters, and when she drops Dee off at Mayhew they seem to have a decent rapport. Dee thanks her for the ride before promptly shooting her.

Now to The Sandman show, which dramatically changes Rosemary's story. She does still pick up Dee in her car to take him to Mayhew, albeit with much less threatening as she offers it out of kindness and with no threats on Dee's part. Their conversation on the drive reveals that Dee is not of sound mind and has been kept away from regular society for awhile although they do discuss her children and philosophize a bit together. She does the sensible thing and attempts to have a gas station clerk call 911 when they stop. Dee, however, has a magical protection amulet that puts a quick stop to that. Rosemary continues to drive him to Mayhew although she is terrified of him now. When she drops Dee off in Mayhew she simply asks that he does not hurt her dog, Susie, who is in the car with her. She also, while admitting that she will regret this *out loud*, offers to drive him elsewhere even after she is sure that he plans to kill her. Dee, in a reversal from the comics, takes off his protection amulet and gives it to Rosemary before sending her on her way home physically unharmed.

So, we have our two Rosemary's. I, personally, adored the changes made for the most part in the show and this change was one of my favorites. She still relies on empathy, but in the show it feels less of a manipulation and just is an element of her core personality. Part of my interest in specifically the change to her character's fate in the show is because Dee's actions directly following Rosemary driving Dee to Mayhew send the world into chaos due to his misuse of Dream's ruby. There are fires, rioting, and the kind of events that can be summed up as the world gone mad.

Comics Rosemary is deceased, and hence does not care, but TV Rosemary not only is experiencing this chaos but is also in possession of a potent protection amulet that likely ensures she is near untouchable by violence of any sort. There is no sudden and violent ending of her story in the TV show which leaves so much open potential for the character's experiences. What will the rest of this character's life look like after this brush with the supernatural and likely death? How much of what happens immediately after she drops Dee off impact her and her place in the Sandman universe? Or does it have any impact outside of what Dee's presence in her life already caused? There is so much potential in this open end!