#lovers lane. dead end.

[insomnya777]

boat boys coded

[piglinmyfeet]

For the fic ask game, I've only read Lovers Lane Is A Dead Lane and I feel like you have a lot of world building for that world.

Yeah the biggest world building piece I really enjoy is the magic system

The two types of magic users are Fae and Witches (gender neutral) and they are essentially able to do the same stuff but the biggest difference is the cost

Witches magic is learned and is shared with the things around them (that's one of my favourite parts of the story but it's totally unrelated to that a-plot with Joel and Grian so I plan to make a spin-off based on it), whereas Fae magic is innate and has a much bigger personal cost, however while Witches can share magic, Fae can take magic and while it can be technically taken from anyone, it's much more substantial when taken from another Fae (maybe we'll see both in the story 🤫 (i hate that emoji the eyes look stupid))

I don't know if I was supposed to answer this much or just say "yeah there's a lot of world building" tbh sorry if I did it wrong :(

[wordssoonforgotten]

Let it happen — chapter one.

Jinx x Kiramman!daughter!reader

A/N — this is a multi-chapter fic that was sitting in my drafts for months so I just decided to publish it. I don’t know where it’s going, and I’ll probably make edits as I go along. But for now you enjoy it anyway!

Content: 2,621 words, descriptions of panic attacks, reader discribed with darkskin and curly hair, modern!au, use of y/n (only because it’s from jinx’s POV)

Also available on AO3. | Jinx and Y/N Kiramman playlist. |Jinx playlist. (Not specific to this story)

Powder Lanes—or if it had been up to her at birth, Jinx—was a hater of plenty things.

School, early rising, and her brother’s stupid pranks that she always seemed to fall victim to—and the list goes on. However, truth be told, her hatred for all those things combined could still pale in comparison to the absolute loathing she felt for those wealthy fuckers in Piltover. Her whole life she’d seen them; only miles away from Zaun, yet the lives they led were completely different. Everything from the clothes they wore to the cars they drove, to even the litter on the street was so perfect. It was sickening. How could a place so disgustingly great be that close to a place like Zaun? Zaun, her home, which was drowning in poverty, crime, and starvation? It left a taste in her mouth so bitter that she couldn’t help but frown in distaste whenever the city was brought up.

She and her sister indulged in the mutual disdain together for a while. Off-color jokes about Piltoveran habits and horrible impressions of their accents became their thing. A source of comfort after a bad dream, a way to make one laugh when the other was sick, an extended olive branch after a fight. She wouldn’t go as far as to say it was the backbone of their relationship, but it was one of the steady planks that kept them standing.

Maybe that’s why she felt like her world was ending when she first heard the news. Her sister. Her Violet. A piltie lover. But not just any old Piltie girl! No, the universe wasn’t kind enough to make this girl just some rando. Vi was dating a Kiramman. One of the richest families in Piltover. She knew it was slightly dramatic, but it felt kind of like betrayal. When Vi broke the news, she could only sit there. A mixture of shock, dread, and a spark of anger brewed together to create the most awful feeling her stomach had ever felt. She held back for as long as she could, silently watching as their dad gleefully patted her shoulder and as their brothers playfully teased her for “finally being tied down.” Her words wouldn’t even come to her as she stood up with a blank expression and walked back to their shared room.

About thirty minutes later, Vander, probably on behalf of Vi, made an appearance. She had to practically force herself to stay present and absorb the words he was saying. It was a load of bullshit about how you “can’t help who you fall for,” and “She’s still your big sister”. All things she already knew but listened to him repeat anyway. After he got done, she simply nodded, with her best attempt at a reassuring smile. The last thing she needed was for him to think she wasn’t being supportive of her sister’s relationship, even if that was technically the truth. She needed time to process, to be alone with the fact that her own sister was in love with the enemy. She couldn’t do that if he never left the room.

After she finally came to terms with the facts, concern flurried in her body. What did this piltie—Caitlyn, possibly want with Vi? Didn’t she already have everything she wanted? More even? What if she was using her? What if she planned to get whatever it is she wants then to leave her high, dry, and miserable? Vi would be devastated. Heartbroken. Her gut clenched at the thought. She knew her sister like she knew her own mind. There was no one else as trusting, kind, or stupidly self-sacrificing as Violet Lanes. She’d always felt it would lead to her downfall, but over her dead body would she let this piltie-girl be the one to spark her downward spiral. She had to figure this out. For the good of her sister’s mental state.

Jinx’s opportunity to sleuth around came way sooner than she expected. Two days after Vi broke the earth-shattering news, she dropped another bombshell. (what was with her?!) The Kirammans had invited their entire family to dinner. At their house. In Piltover. She nearly choked on her breakfast at the thought. If she wasn’t sure her sister had lost the plot before, there was her unasked-for confirmation.

Dinner with one of Piltover’s wealthiest sounded like an early trip to hell, yet Vi seemed so ecstatic about it. Of course, Vander readily agreed at the sight of his eldest daughter’s poorly concealed excitement, and Mylo and Claggor will go anywhere free food is, so that left Jinx as the only one who didn’t express pleasure at the invite. She didn’t even notice them looking at her until Vi bumped her shoulder with a gentle, but slightly nervous “What do you think pow-pow?”

Even if the truth was that the very idea of sitting with those prissy, elite, sure-to-be assholes made her want curl up and throw a tantrum like she was six again; she can’t stand to see her sister upset. Especially not if the cause was her. So, with her most convincing smile and nod of her head she gave a tight “Can’t wait sis,” and hoped that would be enough. (Vi knew Jinx just as well as Jinx knew Vi, so it didn’t convince her much. She was glad her little sister was putting forth effort.)

There are so many better things she could be doing right now. Beating Ekko at video games, working on her new paintball-blaster gun in the garage, hell, even doing all the homework she’d let pile up. Anything, even that, was better than spending her night eating along side Piltover’s richest. However, she couldn’t deny the opportunity this gave her. Under the guise of being a concerned yet slightly overprotective sister, She could subtly interrogate this Caitlyn girl and spy any ulterior motives she may have regarding Vi. Then, she could have this whole situation wrapped up with only a little damage to Vi’s ego.

She and her brothers had been made to wear their best dress attire, which for her included a dress behind by she and vi’s mother that was slightly too big for her. (It felt weird wearing something that belonged to her; like chasing ghosts. She could ignore it for one night, though. For her plan. For her sister.)

The Kiramman estate was just as extravagant as she’d read about in all the articles. Big, stupid mansion with gardens, fountains, and the rest of the rich people bullshit. Her family’s beat up (but still perfectly good!) van looked extremely out of place parked in front. Another reason for her get them in and out as soon as possible. Vi looks more nervous than Jinx has ever seen her before. It’s unnerving. She’s not used to her older sister being nervous about anyone, especially not some wealthy pricks. Man she must really like this girl. Jinx ignores that thought and follows her brothers out of the backseat.

She intentionally falls behind next to Vi and without looking at her, elbows her in the arm. She can feel Vi’s stare at the side of her face. When she glances over at her she’s nursing a small, amused smile. She reaches over and ruffles jinx’s hair, who in return gives her a short huff and glare. (She hides her smile as she speed walks ahead. That felt right. Just like old times.)

When they get up to the door, they’re greeted by the Kirammans’ butler. The man has the straightest, stiffest posture she’s ever seen, and he takes his job way seriously. He leads the five of them to the Kirammans’ dining room. The three of them make up some sight. Pristine, white collar, individuals sitting in a triangle, Cassandra Kiramman being the center.

Caitlyn Kiramman is just as perfect as Vi made her out to be. It was sickening. She looked like your average Piltoveran girl, only taller. Pin-straight dark blue hair that sat on her shoulders way too neatly, like it’s never seen a single tangle. At first glance, she seems…intense. However, she doesn’t stay that way for long. The second she notices Vi’s presence, (and she assumes the rest of them, but her eyes remain on Vi the entire time) it’s like she comes to life. She stands up and stumbles over to her like a lovesick puppy. (How can one be clumsy so gracefully?) Vi catches her by the arm gently; then they both just stare at each other in that disgusting in love way every new couple does. It makes Jinx’s stomach turn. She has to admit. If this girl is messing around with Vi’s feelings, she sure is playing the part well. It almost convinces her that she’s being irrational, but not quite.

Claggor clears his throat with an amused smirk at their older sister. Mylo snickers until Vander elbows him in the side gently. Jinx’s eyes subtly narrow in Caitlyn’s direction, trying to keep a lid on her feelings. Vi introduces her to each family member one by one, Caitlyn greets them each with a firm handshake and a polite smile, until she gets to Jinx. Her smile falters and makes way for nervousness.

“And this is my little sister, Powder.” Vi introduces her with more caution and gentleness than the others as if already sensing the tension between the two. Jinx gives her a look, already gearing up to correct her sister with her chosen name before Caitlyn interrupts. “Oh, yes! It’s lovely to meet you. I have a sister about your age too. She hasn’t come down yet.” She says as she glances at the stairs quickly before offering her hand to Jinx.

The mention of a sister does shock her. Since when was there another one?! Jinx had done her research, there had been no mention of another Kiramman daughter. Especially not one her own age. She pushes the momentary surprise away, refusing to let this throw her off her game. She shakes Caitlyn’s hand firmly as she holds eye contact, almost as if asserting dominance. Silently telling her that her money and impromptu relationship with her sister don’t scare her.

Eventually, they all take a seat. Each member of her family members takes her turns shaking hands with Cassandra and Tobias Kiramman. They’re polite in that wealthy aristocratic way that makes Jinx feel as if it’s not real. She sits between Mylo and Claggor, watching her surroundings carefully. She watches the way Vi smiles too hard and stumbles slightly when talking to Caitlyn’s parents. She watches them look at her in amusement. Mostly, she watches Caitlyn. Looking for any sign of dishonesty. The woman alternates between staring at Vi with that disgusting lovesick smile and glancing up the stairs, assumingly looking for this mystery sister that apparently no major news outlet knows about.

Light footsteps hurry down the stairs, causing a visible relaxation in Caitlyn’s shoulders. When Jinx looks up, she feels the air being knocked out of her lungs. The second Kiramman sister looks nothing like the rest of her family. She’s shorter than Caitlyn, with black curls that stop at her shoulders. The purple dress she’s wearing matches Caitlyn’s blue one. It brings out her dark skin and pretty eyes. Oh my god, did she really just think that? Whatever, stay focused jinx. Caitlyn’s sister smiles politely, just as her sister did, but for some reason it makes Jinx hot in the face. She takes a sip of water to combat the warmth.

“You’ll have to excuse my tardiness, I’m terribly sorry.” The girl smiles and takes her seat between Caitlyn and Tobias. Caitlyn bumps her shoulder with a relieved smile as she clears her throat. “This is my sister, y/n.” The girl—y/n— bumps Caitlyn back. Despite looking nothing like them, she fits perfectly. Her posture is just as straight, and her tone is just as diplomatic. It confuses Jinx. Why had she not heard of this girl?

“Y/N! This is Powder. Vi’s sister I told you about?” Caitlyn’s tone is friendly but the hints of nervousness shine through to jinx like headlights. (Was this her plan? Trying to get her somehow-secret-sister to get in close with her so she won’t sniff out her true intentions? Oh-ho! She was smarter than she gave her credit for.)

Y/N holds out her hand politely. Jinx takes it hesitantly. The girl has the warmest, softest flesh she’s ever felt in her life. It’s like shaking hands with a pillow. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a little about you, is it true you’ve turned down Piltover University six times?” Y/N says curiously. That bit of information is true. She has turned down free admission to Piltover University six times. And she’d do it six more until they got the memo. Jinx knows her work is good. She knows she’s smarter than the average. Her teachers have said that her whole life. (Though, it’s usually in bitter company with “but she just doesn’t try!” Or some reimagining of it.)

Of course, she knows if she did accept their desperate pleas, she’d be one of the only people from Zaun to ever get a scholarship there. At just sixteen. That doesn’t mean she’d demean herself and hurt her Zaunite pride by actually going to the piltie school. She’d rather chew glass.

“And I’ll turn them down six million more,” Jinx scoffs sarcastically. “I’m not sticking myself in a school with those rich, stuck up, snobby—“ Vander clears his throat firmly. That’s when she knows she’s crossed the line. Vi is giving her sternest big-sister glare. Jinx rolls her eyes and sits back. She’s preparing for whatever scolding or argument she’s about to get from the second Kiramman daughter, but the girl just laughs. So light, so sunny, so perfect that it nearly blows her away. “They are pretty snobby,” Y/N hums thoughtfully. “But I’ve heard your work is genius. It deserves to be rewarded.”

Jinx can feel the heat climbing back up her neck, and immediately busies herself with her water glass again, ignoring the questioning look from Vi. As dinner is served, Jinx does her best to subtly question Caitlyn, just as she planned.

It’s harder than she thought.

Y/N makes it hard. Just by being a good sister. Every time she’s asking Caitlyn something, she gets nervous. And every time Caitlyn gets nervous, her sister swoops in like fucking Wonder Woman to guide her. Not letting her slip up even once. Ugh.

Vi and Caitlyn spend the night making goo-goo eyes at each other. It’s tough to discredit the feelings she sees when they lock eyes. Maybe…just maybe…No jinx! Stay focused! This can’t be real. It just can’t be.

The thought makes Jinx's breathing speed up. If this was genuine, and this piltie really cared about Vi as much Vi cared about her, then it was all true. It was all real. Her sister was in love with this rich girl and eventually would be so in love that they move in and get married and have babies and—and what about their family? What about their sisterhood? She’d forget all about her and Zaun. She’d lose her sister. Forever.

Suddenly the room feels smaller and she can’t breathe. No air is getting to her lungs, her muscles burn. She can hear Vi talking to her, firm, calm, but still concerned. Her brothers are holding her shoulders and she can hear Vander’s chair screeching from how fast he’s standing up. All of it is too much.

Jinx stands up and runs out of the house through the back doors.

[insanityclause]

“Pressure,” Tom Hiddleston says, “is a privilege.” He apologises for appropriating the title of Billie-Jean King’s memoir, but it’s a sentiment that feels pertinent to him and his co-star Hayley Atwell. They have known each other for 20 years, have both starred in the Marvel universe (Hiddleston as the charmingly villainous Loki; Atwell as the wartime spy Peggy Carter), but this is the first time they have worked together — if you don’t count their group audition to get into drama school.

In a baggy sweatshirt (Atwell) and natty pale-blue jacket with clasps (Hiddleston), they are in a south London studio to rehearse Shakespeare’s bantering would-be lovers Beatrice and Benedick in Much Ado About Nothing. It will be only the second Shakespeare play performed at the 2,000-seat Theatre Royal Drury Lane in London since 1957. And the pressure Hiddleston refers to comes from the fact that the previous one — The Tempest, starring Sigourney Weaver, also directed by Jamie Lloyd — failed to go down a storm.

Atwell and Hiddleston in rehearsal for Much Ado About Nothing

MARC BRENNER

Withering reviews such as The Times’s (“Sigourney Weaver’s blank Prospero makes zero impression”) poured cold water on a desert island story that had been relocated by the director Jamie Lloyd to a charcoal-black netherworld. Prices were cut, and an onstage protest by Just Stop Oil looked like light relief.

“We can exclusively reveal that [Much Ado] is not set in a charcoal netherworld,” Hiddleston deadpans. The pair start each day of rehearsals with an hour of dancing. How much dancing will make it into the show? The pair, who are friendly but guarded, can’t or won’t reveal.

What they will say is that you don’t do a show like this by halves. It turns out that Shakespeare is more like a Marvel film than you’d think. “You’ve got to commit with heart and soul and body, like you do for action sequences,” Hiddleston explains. “All acting can be boiled down to how much you commit.”

“I like pressure,” Atwell says. “There is a part of it that is very healthy and useful. But any sort of pressure attached to an idea of my name as a brand or a public persona is so arbitrary and abstract. I turn off the noise that is inconsequential. I find the bit of it I can use.”

Tom Hiddleston as Loki, a mischievous Marvel villain

ALAMY

In 2022 Atwell had to do this while filming Mission: Impossible — Dead Reckoning Part One amid bogus reports of a relationship with the film’s star Tom Cruise; the pair are teaming up again for Mission: Impossible — The Final Reckoning, released this summer.

Hiddleston tells a story about his first big London Shakespeare opening, in 2007. He was playing Cassio in Othello, alongside Chiwetel Ejiofor as Othello and Ewan McGregor as Iago. At five o’clock the three popped out to a Covent Garden Pret a Manger to get a pre-show sandwich. (It is hard, the Much Ado two agree, knowing exactly when to eat before a show.) There was a first-night tension you could cut with a knife. Or there was until Ejiofor just said bluntly: “‘Well, this is a big night. No question.’ And it made us all laugh. Cos, yeah, it’s kind of a big deal — but what can you say?”

“’This is not your average Thursday,’” Atwell says.

“It’s not!” Hiddleston agrees.

Now 44, he already had an agent when he auditioned at Rada, having got one while studying Classics at Cambridge. Atwell, now 42, who grew up with her mother in west London, had delayed higher education to travel around with her American father and work for a casting director. When they met, in the final stage of auditions, it was on a day of working in a group.

Atwell and Hiddleston at the premiere of Jamie Lloyd’s The Tempest last year

ALAN CHAPMAN/DAVE BENETT/GETTY IMAGES

Atwell feels she handled the pressure less well than Hiddleston. “The woman from Rada said to us, ‘We are now looking for the next generation of actors who will be making a profound contribution to the arts.’ And I was, like, ‘I don’t know about that, mate, I’m just trying to get out of being in a housing association — if I can make a living I will be very happy.’ I was very intimidated.”

“It was very intense,” Hiddleston says.

“I was too shy,” Atwell says. “I didn’t commit.”

“I thought you committed,” Hiddleston says. “I thought you committed hard.”

He got in, she didn’t, and went to Guildhall School of Drama instead. But after leaving in 2005 she got a big role in the TV adaptation of Alan Hollinghurst’s novel The Line of Beauty almost immediately. A few posh roles followed, including in the film Brideshead Revisited.

“There was probably a bit more classism around then, and I suppose my own prejudice about ‘I’ve got to sound a certain way to even be considered for the kind of parts that might lead eventually to a film career’. So I thought if I could go down a period drama route, as opposed to the soap route or more working-class plays, I might give myself more of a chance. I had no back-up plan. I didn’t have any kind of privilege, didn’t come from money.”

The Eton-educated Hiddleston may come from a more prosperous upbringing but insists that, as an actor, “you never feel you are on solid ground. I have had to remind myself to smell the roses, because they don’t bloom all that often.”

His next theatre role was Lloyd’s revival of Pinter’s Betrayal in London and New York in 2019, which is how he met his fiancée, Zawe Ashton, who was a castmate. Atwell, meanwhile, last appeared in the West End in Ibsen’s Rosmerholm in 2019. Before that her work included another Donmar Shakespeare (Measure for Measure) and an Olivier-nominated performance in Lloyd’s production of Alexi Kaye Campbell’s The Pride. She didn’t know it at the time, but theMission: Impossible director Christopher McQuarrie saw her in it — something that led, seven years later, to him casting her as the con artist turned secret agent Grace.

He had a moment like that in 2013 — when the second Thor film came out at the same time as he was earning rave reviews for Coriolanus at the Donmar theatre in London. Hiddleston was the man of the hour. “And then you’ve got to do another 75 nights on stage, and make sure you are careful in the fight scene not to slip on the blood. The work anchors you.”

“You can’t predict,” she says. “There’s so much luck involved. I’ve worked for a number of years … and failure is allowed. I didn’t used to find it easy to fail and get a second chance. Particularly as a woman there was this sense of ‘you have to be perfect’. But while you want to deliver, after a while it’s not yours any more. It’s for the audience, and if they don’t like it, or if it doesn’t work, they’re allowed, that’s allowed.”

Atwell as the wartime spy Peggy Carter in Captain America: The First Avenger

JAY MAIDMENT/MARVEL STUDIOS/THA/SHUTTERSTOCK

Hiddleston, meanwhile, who has been filming the second series of John le Carré’s The Night Manager after a nine-year gap since the first, is still Loki to much of the world. The pair have never been in a Marvel scene together, though they did appear at the same event: Comic Con in San Diego in 2013, to which Hiddleston turned up in costume. “Nobody knew it was happening , it was insane and foolish and really fun.”

“I was backstage,” Atwell says cheerfully. “I will never forget the vision of Loki brushing his teeth in full costume.”

She says she is glad she was 15 years into her career before her five-year tour of duty on Mission began with filming in 2020. “I’m so grateful for that, because the level of global exposure on it, purely from being alongside Tom Cruise, can uproot and upend your life. But actually I’m too old to go, ‘What’s next?’ A real sense of security only comes from the commitment to work for work’s sake.” Offstage, both are engaged to their partners: Hiddleston to Ashton (the couple have a two-year-old), Atwell to the music producer Ned Wolfgang Kelly.

What led to today’s professional pairing? Hiddleston and Lloyd wanted to do another play together after Betrayal, and the actor suggested Much Ado. “It seems so light and warm,” he explains, a nice contrast to the heartbreaks of Betrayal. When Lloyd suggested Atwell, Hiddleston said yes immediately. “We’ve known each other for so long, and Beatrice and Benedick have known each other for so long.”

“I had only one question,” Atwell says, “which was, ‘Jamie, how ‘hey-nonny-nonny’ is it going to be?’” Lloyd assured her the hey-nonny-nonny levels would be minimal. “So I thought, this sounds really exciting.”

And if this pulls in a crowd more inclined to Marvel than Much Ado, well, marvellous. Hiddleston, who likes to spin a yarn, gives an impassioned speech about the magic of storytelling in all its forms, about “something being transmitted, from the stage or from the screen, that leaves you feeling more connected, more human, more alive, less alone in the world”.

And that applies to Marvel — famous dislikers of the franchise such as Martin Scorsese and Francis Ford Coppola notwithstanding — too?

“One hundred per cent,” they say in unison.

Atwell sees superhero stories as modern-day mythology. “I don’t believe in highbrow or lowbrow — I think it’s just art and film and theatre. You wouldn’t necessarily connect Marvel with Shakespeare. But both can be for everyone.”

Hiddleston remembers going to a screening at the Tribeca Film Festival in New York of the first Avengers film. A group of first responders who had been at 9/11 a decade earlier were there too. “They were all wearing their uniform in the cinema. And the film is about how the Avengers have basically saved New York from Loki. And when Loki gets smashed by the Hulk like a fish at the end, they literally threw their hats in the air and cheered. That was so moving.”

Much Ado About Nothing is at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane, London, Feb 10-Apr 5, thejamielloydcompany.com

[ladykailitha]

Share With Me One Love, One Lifetime Part 2

Whoohoo! The second chapter is here!!! Again I don't know how long it's going to be as it as already topped out at 10k, which is where I thought it was going to be. But I am nearing the end, so maybe another couple of chapters, which would make it about half the length of the other two.

In this we have the bottle scene and Dustin finds out about Steve and Eddie.

Part 1

~

When Keith relieved Steve and Robin, Max and Dustin followed them out to Steve’s car and they all piled in.

“I have to stop at the store to pick up some things for him,” Steve said, pulling out of the parking lot. “He pretty much had to book it with only the clothes on his back.”

“Oh shit,” Max said, “I didn’t even think about where he would get food and shit from!”

Steve just rolled his eyes.

They parked at Melvand’s and Steve hurried inside, the three of them following close behind. He grabbed a cart and sent Dustin for hygiene stuff and Max for drinks. He grabbed all of Eddie’s favorites and booked it to the check-out lane.

As they were walking to the car, Max cocked her head to the side. “How did you know what Eddie’s favorite food and drinks were?”

“Yeah,” Dustin said, crossing his arms. “And how did you know what deodorant he uses was?”

Steve turned around slowly, his eyes wide and a grimace on his face. “We’re friends?”

“That doesn’t account for everything you bought, Steve,” Dustin huffed. “I wouldn’t be able tell you what Lucas’s favorite cereal is.”

“It’s Froot Loops,” Max said dryly. She stopped dead in her tracks. “Shit. That’s why.”

Dustin turned to her with a frown and then back to Robin and Steve who were practically begging Max to shut up. Then his own eyes went wide. “Oh!”

Steve buried his head in his hands and moaned. His life was over. He was sure of it.

“You’re dating Eddie?” Dustin asked cocking his head to the side. “Wait is that why you wouldn’t date Robin? Because you were already with someone?”

Robin grinned. “Yup! Though to be fair I only know because truth serum sucks, but yeah totes not his type.”

“So you’re type is awesome,” he continued with a grin, “just in a ‘not girls’ kind of way.”

“Thank you for not ragging on my taste, I guess,” Steve said raising his head. He turned to Max and tilted his head. “I thought you figured it out ages ago, if I’m honest. So I’m a little surprised you didn’t know.”

Max shrugged her shoulders. “I figured it was none of my business. Friends, close friends, fuck buddies, boyfriends. Didn’t matter to me. There were guys like that out in Cali. Just always hanging out and close and shit.”

Steve and Robin shared a glance and then Robin said with a grimace, “You do realize that they were probably gay and couldn’t be open about it, right?”

“Oh.”

Steve put rubbed his face and then sighed. “Look, Eddie’s waiting for us and I’d rather not keep him waiting.”

“Oh!” Dustin said, jumping as though he had been stung. “Right! Eddie! God. Where is my head today?”

They all piled into the car and Steve started driving. They got about halfway to Lover’s Lake when he looked into the rearview mirror at Max and Dustin. “You understand, you can’t tell anyone about me and Eddie, right?”

Max and Dustin shared a glance. “Of course.”

~

In hindsight, poking Eddie with the oar when he so keyed up wasn’t the brightest idea he ever had. As evidenced by the broken bottle at his throat. He tossed the oar to the side and gently touched Eddie’s elbow.

“Hey, Eds,” Steve purred. “It’s okay. It’s just me. Dustin’s here. Robin and Max too. But I need you to put down the bottle.”

Eddie’s hands shook as his stared at Steve as if he was seeing monsters. Steve’s other hand came up and stroked the skin above Eddie’s belt.

“Come on, rockstar,” he murmured. “Can you let me go? You can still have the bottle, babe. I promise.”

“Eddie, it’s just Steve,” Dustin pleaded from behind him.

Eddie looked back at him and then to Steve before his eyes cleared and recognition hit. The bottle fell from numb fingers and he collapsed into Steve’s arms.

“There you are,” Steve murmured. “I’ve got you now. I’ve got you, baby.” He started pressing kisses to parts of Eddie’s face. His nose, his cheek, his forehead, his lips, his temple and his jaw. All the while his hands where rubbing his sides, muttering soothing words. Just comforting him the best that he could.

“I’m sorry Stevie,” Eddie whimpered. “I couldn’t trust my own eyes. Not after what happened. I was so scared.”

“Tell us about it,” Steve said softly. “Come on, let’s sit you down.”

Steve moved them over to a nearby milk crate and sat Eddie down. Eddie immediately curled in on himself as Steve stroked his back.

Eddie then began his tale. Of how he was looking for the drug Chrissy was asking for because he never kept the heavier stuff on him in case he got pulled over by the cops. But when he found it and came back out to her, she couldn’t move. She was stuck staring ahead and then the worst thing happened. Chrissy rose into the air and her limbs twisted and snapped as her eyes bled, all Exorcist style.

“Shit,” Dustin said, eyes wide. “That’s new. That’s not something that has ever happened before.”

Max and Robin agreed. “I’ve only been around since the second go round,” Max said, “but that shit’s crazy.”

“I’m not gonna lie, man,” Dustin huffed. “This is some real cult of Vecna shit.”

That startled a laugh out of Eddie and even Steve smiled.

“Got have it named after some D&D monster,” Steve said shaking his head fondly. “It’s tradition.”

“In all fairness to the first one,” Dustin said with a wince, “Will’s disappearance seemed to mirror his defeat to the demogorgon in our game. It was before we knew what the freaky ass thing looked like.”

Eddie tilted his head to the side and then nodded. “Fair.”

“Do you think you’ll be safe here?” Steve asked. “I don’t want to leave you here if you think other people will find you.”

Eddie looked around at everything they brought him and then nodded again. “I know where the hide-a-key is.”

“I also brought you some of your books and D&D stuff that you left at my house,” Steve said with a half shrug, “so you don’t get bored and accidentally do something stupid.”

“Hey!” Dustin and Eddie cried together.

Steve sighed. “Look, I know you really look up to Eddie. It’s all I’ve heard for the last seven months, but trust me when I say, left to his own devices, Eddie will find mischief if it’s to be had.”

Eddie sniffed, offended. “I think you’ve been hanging out with Jeff too much, thank you!” He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.

Steve kissed him on the cheek. “I learned that one from Uncle Wayne, honey. But are you sure you’ll be all right?”

Eddie nodded and then just curled up into Steve’s side with a sigh. “Poor Chrissy. She must have been so scared.”

Steve kissed the top of his head. “I liked her too. She was a sweet girl. Mom was a grade A bitch, but Chrissy was sweet.”

“Uh...” Robin said raising her hand, “not to like be a wet blanket or whatever, but it’s starting to get really dark and my mom will kill me if I’m out late for the second night in a row.”

Steve gave Eddie a squeeze and stood up. “Let’s get Eddie into the house and all his stuff, then we’ll drive out the other direction and hope we can keep people off Eddie’s scent long enough for this blow over. I’ll send Nancy over to Wayne in the morning to let him know what’s going on. Dustin, get my spare walkie talkie out of the car, so Eddie has a way to communicate with us.”

Dustin hurried to do just that as everyone else helped get Eddie’s stuff into the house. Eddie pawed through the bags and humming happily at Steve’s choices.

“Never let it be said that Steve doesn’t know how to treat a boy, right,” he purred as he popped open a bottle of Yahoo and started chugging it.

“Why aren’t you concerned that we might be against you and Steve being together?” Dustin asked suspiciously.

Steve burst out laughing as Eddie shook his head.

“Dude,” Eddie huffed with a raised eyebrow, “his dad is like textbook homophobic, he’s perfected the art of us appearing to be ‘just’ friends for over a year. If you guys weren’t safe, you wouldn’t be able to tell any different.”

Dustin blinked at him in confusion.

“Yeah,” Max said with a half shrug. “That tracks. See you later, don’t die and don’t be stupid.”

Steve gave Eddie a quick peck on the lips. “Love you Eds. We’ll figure this out. We’ll be on so this. Hell, with Nancy on the case it should be solved before breakfast tomorrow.”

Once Steve had gotten them all bundled into the car and half way down the road when Dustin suddenly screamed, causing Steve to swerve off the road.

“Holy shit, dude!” Max said hitting his arm. “What the fuck was that about?! You could’ve gotten us killed.”

“Over a year!” Dustin huffed, kicking the back of the driver’s seat. “You’ve been dating for over a year! When did you start dating?”

Steve rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I don’t remember the exact date...” he taped his head, “but it was before Valentine’s Day, because this was the second Valentine’s we’ve had together as a couple.”

“That long?” Dustin whimpered. “You didn’t trust us?”

The car got deathly silent as they all took that in.

“It’s like that old saying if you want to keep a secret between two people,” Steve said, hands gripping the steering wheel tight, “you’ve got to kill them both or whatever.”

“You only need to kill the one,” Robin said gently. “But yeah, the more people who know they’re dating the more dangerous it is for them. If word got back to Steve’s dad or even his old friends they could really hurt him.”

“Oh.”

Steve shifted the car back into gear and started making his way to Hawkins again, letting Dustin sit with that information.

“Who knew?” came the quiet murmur from the backseat.

“Jonathan guessed right off the bat,” Steve said, eyeing Dustin in the rearview mirror. “And he told Nancy, which I really really wish he hadn’t. She made a lot of trouble for me just before I graduated.”

Dustin raised his head. “She did? Why would she do that?”

“Because Steve doesn’t like both,” Max said softly, “he’s gay. I’m not sure I wouldn’t be pissed at Lucas if I found that out about him.”

Dustin looked over at Max and then really sat with that information. “That was still mean of her.”

Steve smiled in the mirror again. “Thanks, bud.” He tapped the steering wheel with his fingers as he thought about it. “The whole of the ‘85 Hellfire club.”

“What?!” Dustin and Max squawked.

“They figured out I liked boys before I did,” Steve explained. “Plus, they were there for me when things got really bad with my dad. Stuff I’m not going to tell a bunch of middle schoolers, no matter how close we are.”

“That’s bullshit,” Dustin huffed, crossing his arms and slouching down in his seat. “You can tell me anything.”

“Yeah and what would you have done if I told you my dad is verbally abusive, huh?” Steve snapped. “There is nothing it would have done except make you worry every time they came home.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. Because Steve was right. There were some things he couldn’t tell his best friend or his mom, because they wouldn’t understand. And this was definitely something he couldn’t understand.

“So,” Steve said after a couple of miles in silence, “that’s about it, except Wayne. Of course Wayne knows.”

“Wayne is acceptable,” Dustin said with a sniff.

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Steve drawled.

~

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag list: TEN SLOTS REMAINING (you gain some you lose some *shrug*)

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @irregular-child @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @beelze-the-bubkiss @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @themoonagainstmers

[heartlover141]

Future Clark & Present Clark competing to see who’s the biggest Lois Lane lover in Pandora. Starting with Future Clark, who denounces his human side because Lois Lane disappeared a year ago. Lois fricking Lane, the only person he gave up his humanity for, simply because he cannot live without her presence. Pete leaves, he’s hurt but he recovers. Kyla dies, he’s crushed but he recovers. Jonathan dies, he’s heartbroken but he recovers. Alicia dies, he’s devastated but he recovers. Lana dies (the second time), he’s anguished but he recovers. Lois Lane disappears and suddenly “Clark Kent is dead”. He died when she left. He cannot live without her, or at least he cannot live with his soul intact without her in it. Without Lois around to guide him, he makes all the wrong choices ultimately resulting in an apocalypse. He chose to fight Zod on his own. Why his own? Oh because he couldn’t bear to be around anyone who even slightly reminded him of her. Not Oliver Queen. Not even Chloe Sullivan, who’s been his best friend since childhood. Then the moment she appears again, his first instinct is to protect her, giving up his father’s watch. The same watch that his father used to teach him how to tell time with. The same watch that Clark almost killed that man for stealing. The same watch that Lana searched every pawn shop for. The only thing he has, he says, he gives it up for her. Then he begs and grovels for her life, “Take my life, let her live!” He says it with conviction, he means it. He doesn’t leave Lois’ side, not even for a moment. The moment she appears, suddenly he has hope, has plans to save the world now, finally speaking & working with Chloe & Oliver. It’s the first time they’ve ever kissed as themselves. No spells, no superhero disguises, and yet they opted to make love the first time they kissed. More wild than their spelled counterparts (RedK Clark & Loved-spelled Lois would be so proud). Then he puts the Legion ring on her finger & gives her a kiss goodbye, all the while having a Kryptonite knife lodged in his gut (he has his priorities straight). And then moving on to Present Clark (my dearest summer child), who stayed in the hospital with Lois all night (just sitting by her bedside for hours, he’s never seen her so quiet it makes his heart break). He accuses Chloe, his best friend whom he’s known since high school, of kidnapping Lois (he can’t think straight, Lois is not beside him). He flings Tess across the room, knocking her unconscious because he thinks she’s hurting Lois. Later Clark wakes up & crawls to be near her & the first words out of his mouth was “How’s Lois?”. He’s still weakened by the Kryptonite & hangs on the railing of her bed and has a hand on Lois still, never letting go. Then she’s back to work and he immediately wants to define their relationship as a couple. He’s not wasting any time coming back from a place where he “wished they had more time” together. Lois starts rambling about all the dates they will go on and what they will be doing on each ones of those dates, Clark is a happy camper. She holds his hand, he beams yellow sun rays. He’s stronger when she’s around, anyways. He unabashedly sends her 5 dozen roses. Subtlety is Clark’s strong suit (sarcasm). The world is gonna end in a year, but the yellow sun is shining & Lois is okay so Clark doesn’t care about anything else, apparently (that’s his only 2 criteria for happiness). What a episode. What a show. What a ship.

[blathannabeaga]

.☽༊˚ january writing; lover's lane

victor tan x reader

feat. 20-squad!reader, established relationship, undercover, fluff

In the brisk January night, Tan’s hand wrapped up in yours is much the only source of warmth to be found.

The SWAT undercover wardrobe is fairly bereft by way of decent winter clothes, so a thin turtleneck and cheap-feeling trenchcoat are your only shields against the late winter cold while pray that the two little shits you’re here in search of don’t give you much more of a runaround.

Truthfully, you know the day could have thrown you a worse case than a delinquent busting his girlfriend out of her courthouse transfer for one last day together. But, that doesn’t mitigate your irritation at having given the day chasing around LA after them into the small hours of the night, right to this park known as a hideout for the in-love and on-the-run. With Gamble, Hondo and Alfaro on observation in a van beyond the gates and Deacon and Powell ready to intercept at the far exit, it’s your great hope that the lovebirds will have run out of steam by now and make things easy enough for you to get home in time to catch the last few minutes of the Kings game.

Imagining this wonderful outcome, you drum the pad of your thumb atop Tan’s hand as your footsteps grow muted atop the dead foliage littering the path. A quiet chuckle sounds from your right and in the dim light offered by the streetlamps dotted around, his smile is bright as day even as you grumble and cease your idle movements.

Just a second later, you come to a small footbridge that’ll lead deeper into the park and hopefully, to where it is their movements were last tracked. Aged wooden slats creak underfoot as you cross over, the glow of the streetlamps fading as the dense cover of trees envelops you in darkness.

Tan squeezes your hand, bumping your shoulder with his as a pocket of moonlight illuminates his pretty face to your eyes. “Always knew I’d get you here eventually.”

Something between a scoff and a laugh breaks from your lips and into the night, soft enough to pass as one from the loved-up couple on a late night walk you’re masquerading as but real enough to make Tan roll his eyes at you as you lower your voice. “In those dreams, was it always as middle-aged cops looking to prematurely end two runaways’ honeymoon?”

“Can’t say it was.” He concedes, swinging your hands back and forth amusedly - before a branch cracks in the thicket of pines up ahead and the two of you lock eyes in the darkness.

[kanatamour]

hi tora!! another blog, another request from me~ today im hoping for headcanons "how do they act when they have a crush and how would they manage to confess" with nayuta, kanata, reo & hajun!! i don't know how many characters you do at the time, so if that's too much just nayuta & kanata are nice!! thank you so much hehe <3

THIS IS MY LOVE.

Because ‘I love you’ is written in every single one of his actions, but he needs to tell you properly.

ft. Yatonokami Nayuta, Yatonokami Kanata, Maruyama Reo, Hajun Yeon x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, love confessions, some angst.

Hello, Jules, dear and thank you so much for sending in another request here ! I’m sorry this took a while, but I still hope you enjoy it and that it can make you smile <3 I ended up making it in time before the year ends, so happy new year !

ଓ YATONOKAMI NAYUTA

“You came along, and my heart smiled. So, get rid of those doubts, my love, I’ve been waiting for you.”

— With Nayuta, you realize he’s in love because of his smile.

— His usually apathetic, even melancholy expression, is replaced by an upwards curve to his lips, brimming in a sweetness that is hard to place.

— To anyone who deigns to observe where his iridescent eyes keep looking, they’d find you at the end of the lane.

— It is easy to see, when you two are together. His gaze is a little brighter, that difference that makes you discern dusk from dawn; he seems more energized, the lilt to his voice a tad more upbeat, particles of sundust shining in the words he addresses to you.

— And perhaps everyone notices, and Nayuta hopes you do too.

— And maybe you already have, but alas, fear seems to follow humans in crucial moments, confusing the heart, leading it through twisting alleys that echo the unsavory sounds of ‘what if’.

— What is it’s just all in your head. What if you’re overthinking and reading the signs the wrong way.

— The sighs he lets out, alone, in the dead on night are the unheard confirmation that his feelings for you are real.

— And yet, miles separate you, each of you lying on your side in the blue light of a faded moon.

— But, as they say, every cloud has a silver lining.

— Nayuta just will have to tell you directly, then.

— Or rather, show you.

— You find yourselves on the topmost floor of his secret hideout, the sun casting in coppery hues the thousands of piled up buildings below; a beautiful contradiction, how the slums had a beauty to them at golden hour.

— But so did your moments with Nayuta.

— You found him, the one you hold most dear. It didn’t matter if it was in a place this world had forgotten.

— Because you could never forget Yatonokami Nayuta.

— Nor the kiss he gives you when you turn towards him at the call of your name.

— You can taste the remaining sweetness of the popsicle he was just eating as his hands land on either side of you, stabilizing himself when he leans in further.

— And because there is no way your mind is making up the cool softness of his lips on yours, you kiss him back, hands cradling his cheeks, strands of silken moonshine reflected on puddles after the rain tickling your fingers.

— “Is it clear now, that I like you, my cute [Y/n]?” Nayuta utters, in the sunset lit instants between his kiss and the second one you initiate as an answer.

— You don’t trust your voice right now, so you’ll speak in the language lovers do when words are superfluous.

— And you can be sure, he’ll be asking for more.

ଓ YATONOKAMI KANATA

“Your petals were bloodied amidst the storm and you still shined. When I next realized, I was the thorns, and you, the only rose.”

— Kanata doesn’t know what is it he feels for you.

— And what’s more, he doesn’t know why.

— Weren’t you another one of those rich brats to begin with? It was your fault that day you were in trouble in the rain, being robbed by some troublemakers.

— And yet, the moment you resisted to give them your pocket money and one of the attacker’s hands closed around your wrist, something in Kanata snapped.

— He doesn’t know how, or the reason behind which he found himself throwing punches until those bastards were running away.

— But he knew he didn’t like the sight of the cut they somehow managed to land on your cheek.

— “Thank you for that, but are you okay?” You asked him, checking for bruises on your nameless savior.

— You are the one bleeding and yet, you ask him that.

— “You shouldn’t be here.” Kanata spats, turning away.

— “Wait! What’s your name?” You asked, running to catch up with him.

— He ‘tsks’. Why can’t he leave you alone in the rain? Why does the sight of blood running down a stranger’s face sit so wrong with him?

— Annoyed, he drapes his jacket over your head.

— “You don’t want to know.” Are the last words he tells you, before running off.

— You stand there, dumfounded, the boy’s hoodie shielding you from the rain.

— You’ll be back here tomorrow.

— The sky dyes in shades of peach and lavender, reminding you of the sweet scent of spring. Ironic, in such a cold evening, and even more so in this district.

— You have a feeling you’ll find him again, so you wait. His jacket is neatly folded over your lap, as a stray kitten rubs itself against your leg.

— Then you spot him. Short sleeved t-shirt on, hands buried deep in the pockets of his pants.

— “Put this on, at least!” You call, throwing him his jacket. “Catch!”

— Eyes not unlike the color of the sky widen at the sight of you again.

— “Thank you for yesterday, whatever your name is.” You softly tell the young man, reaching where he stands with the small cat in your arms.

— It meows at him. Extending one of its paws.

— “See? He wants to know your name too!” You pout, holding one of the kitten’s white paws in your hand.

— “Ugh fine! It’s Kanata, okay?”

— “Nice to meet you, Kanata.” You giggle, as the cat paws at your hero’s face.

— And somehow, the way you call his name… It’s pleasant, a sweet melody shining in a world of gray.

— He wants to see you again.

— So, next time, he’s the one to seek you out.

— You always meet at the same place; the street where the white kitten lives. Sometimes it goes home with Kanata, though, and others you bring him to your apartment.

— Time is fleeting, and days become months, with December snow fading to rays of February sun, auguring an early spring.

— And then one day, Kanata isn’t there.

— You wait, with your cat friend, who meows sadly at you, climbing on your lap when the first tears begin to fall.

— That evening you leave, matching cups of ramen left to the freeze of a lonely night.

— However, someone saw this hurtful scene.

— “Care to explain yourself?” Nayuta asks his brother, slamming the door behind him.

— Kanata turns slightly around. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

— “Oh, you… You know very well. Why didn’t you go today?”

— To which Kanata shrugs.

— “Fine. I hope you know they left crying.” His younger twin points out. “Will you just face your feelings and accept you’re in love and that they love you?”

— “That’s…” Kanata’s shoulders slump. “They deserve better…”

— “Silly!” His brother intercepts, with a soft flick to his forehead. “And what? They want you. So you better get it together and go find them now!”

— And well, for some reason, Kanata doesn’t need to be told twice.

— Luckily for him, a small friend is there to help.

— Following the kitty, they both manage to locate you.

— “[Y/n]! Wait!” The boy who saved you that night calls, putting a hand on your shoulder.

— “What do you want, Yatonokami?” You ask, tone cold, without turning around.

— It hurts him. The way he’s hurt you, the way you won’t face him, the way you use his last name instead.

— “I’m sorry. I just… I’m stupid, okay? I couldn’t come to terms with- the thing is- I… I… Oh, to hell with it! I like you, okay? And I just didn’t know how to act around you or what to do and I thought you deserved better and so I just stood you up and I messed up.”

— A chuckle is definitely not the answer he was expecting.

— “You are cute when you blush, Kanata.” You murmur, wiping away a stray tear, smiling sweetly at him.

— “I’m not-“ He starts, cheeks blooming in crimson roses.

— “I said it’s cute. You are cute.”

— Droplets of thin rain begin to fall.

— “I like you too, if that wasn’t obvious.” You softly say, with a kiss to his cheeks.

— Much like the night you met, rain surrounds you. This time, it’s his cheek that burns, not because an open wound, but because of the searing sensation of a kiss he won’t forget.

ଓ MARUYAMA REO

“What is the point for a rainbow to hide? Let’s write our love in the sky.”

— Reo is a cutie and he definitely has a way with flirting.

— So that’s exactly what he does.

— He is not shy about it in the slightest, often complimenting you on your new clothes, telling how sweet you are or giving you hugs out of nowhere.

— Of course, all of the above, always that you are comfortable; Reo is very cheerful, but he knows how to read your emotions and pick up what you like and dislike.

— And at first, you didn’t think much of it. Sure, he is very affectionate with you, but he is with everyone else too, right? It’s not like you are receiving special treatment.

— Which, in turn, frustrates Reo more.

— Is he doing something wrong? He’s being pretty obvious, right?

— Or maybe… you don’t feel the same way?

— No, no, no, he can’t fall into negativity.

— He has to take you to a nice date and tell you how he feels directly.

— So, he puts together some money he’s been saving and chooses his cutest outfit. This is a special occasion and he wants to make you happy.

— When you arrive at the accorded spot, Reo is already waiting for you.

— Sure, he is a sunshine, but you didn’t expect an amusement park date, seeming how he and his gang usually preferred to hang out at the ramen place.

— “Hello, [Y/n]!” He greets you, those eyes of his mirroring the sunset clouds lining the horizon. “I got cotton candy hehe. One for you and one for me!”

— You take the sweet treat from him, eyes sparkly at the delicious sugary scent wafting around you.

— “Woaah! It looks so tasty! You’re the best Reo…” You thank him.

— And maybe, just maybe, because this is a date, you leave a cotton candy kiss on his cheek, giggling at the pink remnants left behind.

— To which the boy grins mischievously, bringing his fingers to it and tasting the sugary treat.

— “Hmm… Your kiss was sweeter…” He ponders, as your cheeks heat up. “What if we repeat it, properly this time?”

— And at that moment, beneath the lighting of dusk and attractions, your lips touch for the first time; a memory written over cottony clouds in rosey glaze.

— “I love you, pretty.” Reo utters, nose brushing against yours, when he parts.

— “I love you too, Reo.” Are your words, before you initiate a second kiss.

— Little did you two know, Iori and the rest of the gang are looking from afar, proud of his youngest member (Suiseki is a little jealous, but that’s another story).

ଓ HAJUN YEON

“I’ll erase the piercing words that were etched into your soul that day.”

— This man’s way of flirting is teasing you (change my mind).

— With his fans, he is all smiles and charming phrases, but when he really loves you, you get to see a more… naughty side of him.

— When he teases you, he doesn’t do it out of malice, no.

— He’s been hurt in the past, and even if his infatuation with you grows by the day, a part of him is still afraid he’ll be discarded again.

— The words ‘you are not needed anymore’ still resound inside his mind, no matter how much he smiles or tries to look perfect on the outside.

— So he’s wary of diving into a new relationship.

— But at the same time, you are so lovely… The way you pout when he’s teasing you, or how you call him and wave at him whenever you see him at uni…

— Hajun would really like to spend more time with you.

— “You should.” Anne tells him, when they finally get Hajun to spill the beans. “I know you’re afraid to trust but… Isn’t it lonely, to keep the one you love at a distance?”

— It is, yes.

— It’s painful if he stays away. And the variant of getting hurt hangs in the air if he tries to get closer.

— But, as they say, ships were not made to stay at harbor.

— So he’ll take this chance and hope for the best.

— And for that, you know he’ll use his charm.

— A cute cafe date here; dinner at his place that he cooked himself using organic ingredients there; and of course, the occasional expensive gift you had been eyeing, mysteriously arriving at your doorstep.

— You like all of this, and especially, you like him.

— However, a part of you can’t help but wonder: what does he want with me? What does he get out of all of this?

— With those thoughts, you lie in bed, listening to his music in the new noise canceling headphones you’re sure he’s bought for you.

— You’re so not sleeping tonight. Maybe tomorrow you’ll ask him about what ‘ulterior’ motives he has.

— The model’s vibrant eyes widen slightly behind his glasses when you utter the question.

— “Why me, Hajun? What are you planning?”

— It hurts him. How it seems he’s not the only one with trust issues here.

— So that’s how you think of it. Some kind of twisted game he’s playing to get something out of you.

— “I’m serious here, Hajun.” You insist, tone stern, when all the answer he gives you are the subtle expressions of his face.

— And for once, he decides to be honest. No mask of perfection obscuring the words he next speaks.

— “Because I’ve fallen in love with you, [Y/n]. Because I was afraid to trust, to be left behind, thrown away. But then you came around. And I wanted to spend more time with you. This is no game, not one that I plan on ending anyway.” He whispers that last part to your ear, a knowing smile on his lips as he feels the heat on your cheeks.

— “Hajun… You… You mean that?”

— “More than anything.” He vows, placing a kiss to the back of your hand, the one adorned with the set of silver rings he gifted you, never once breaking eye contact.

— Your fingers slot in between his. You suppose it’s alright to let your heart take command and test the waters.

— After all, you can’t keep denying you’ve been in love with him since the beginning, too. You just never thought he’d end up reciprocating.

[softpascalito]

I To Dig a Grave I Chapter 4 I

Summary: Twenty-one years after the outbreak, you come to Wyoming looking for something and end up in Jackson after a stranger saves your life.

But he doesn't stay a stranger.

Turns out Joel Miller is looking for something too. It feels like a fresh start. But when bad luck seems to follow you, Joel is the only one to turn to, forcing both of you to confront your feelings about your pasts- and each other.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 16k+ Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Smut, Explicit Content, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Chose not to use Archive Warnings, Tags to be added

AO3 LINK // Series Masterlist // Playlist

notes: thank you guys so much for all the love on the last chapter, sending all of you forehead smooches <3

this fic will deal with heavy topics. please note that it doesn't use archive warnings and tags will be added as we go in order to avoid spoilers. each chapter will have detailed warnings in the end notes on ao3.

Chapter 4 – The Note

‘I wish you goodness but I can’t be around to see it.’ — Unknown

You can't say if you've slept at all. Everything seems not inherently wrong, but unimportant. Your body keeps functioning on its own accord, no doubt using up all the reserves it can. But it functions surprisingly well, given the circumstances. You’re not throwing up anymore. Still, a trashcan is placed next to the bed. A glass of water and some tissues occupy the nightstand that usually sits empty, Joel only using the one on his side of the bed.

It’s a bittersweet reminder that you don’t belong here. It’s not your bed or your house, Joel is not yours. The things that are yours are undoubtedly being inspected by whoever Maria has tasked with investigating the situation. Kitchen drawers being rummaged through, notebooks for your classes being picked apart. Looking at a room and weighing whether or not it could’ve belonged to someone who wanted to leave.

You wonder whether or not they’ve found the letter yet. Considering where Lane could’ve placed it so that you wouldn’t see. It suddenly strikes you that she must have been gone when you woke up. That while you were tiptoeing around the bathroom and kitchen, trying to make no noise that could wake her, her bed was empty.

You avoid going further down that road. You don’t think you could stand it if she’d already been dead while you drank your coffee and pulled on your winter coat and flipped through books without a care in the world.

Life pretending that it was still as it had been the day before.

Joel got up a while ago, far too early if the darkness outside the windows is anything to go by. You felt the mattress dip and then rise as he disentangled himself from the sheets while you were giving no sign that you were awake and listened to the floorboards creak as he headed through the room and escaped into the hallway.

It takes you a solid ten minutes to convince your body to crawl out from under the warm covers, still radiating the smell you’ve come to associate with Joel, and pad over to the bathroom. You try hard not to look into the mirror. Of course, just like with everything else, you fail.

The face staring back at you carries dark circles, glassy eyes. The corners of your mouth are slightly cracked, no doubt from last night's intense heaving. But what strikes you most is that every part of your face seems rid of any emotion. There is no light in your eyes. They look just as dead as you imagine Lane’s to be.

You stare at your reflection until your eyes begin to burn. You try to remember to blink. To take a breath and then another and another. Nothing seems to work like it should.

Joel is in the kitchen when your feet carry you downstairs a few minutes later. He pretends to be very busy with the dishes, but you know he’s been waiting for you to wake up. He reaches for the checkered dish towel to wipe his hands before turning his full attention to you. He doesn’t look like he has slept much either. His salt-and-pepper hair is a tad messier than usual. It suddenly strikes you how much lighter it has become since you first met him.

“Hey,” he mumbles, standing in front of you a bit sheepishly. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. “Do you want to have breakfast?”

“Did they bring her letter yet?” You both speak at the same time and then fall quiet.

You can see his shoulders sinking a bit as he takes in your words and his tone sounds careful when he shakes his head. “Not yet. I'm sure they will, in a bit.”

His eyes are trained on your expression and you're close enough that you are certain he is seeing you the same way you saw the person in the mirror. Empty, lifeless. Dead.

“Do you want to go back to bed?” he asks tentatively but you immediately shake your head. 

“No, I won't be able to sleep anyway.”

Joel gives a small grumble at that, deep in his throat. It almost sounds like disappointment. “You didn't sleep?” 

You sigh a little, again shaking your head. “Maybe a bit. I'm not sure.” After a moment, you add, “My brain feels all weird today.”

He nods, slowly taking a step forward and wrapping an arm around you. “Your brain is allowed to feel a bit weird today, all things considered.” For a few moments, you both just stay like that, his hand trailing over your back, rubbing circles into the fabric of your shirt. His eyes fall to your legs, both noticeably banged up from your fall yesterday.

“Does it still hurt?” he mutters, tilting his head to get a better look. 

“It's just a scratch.” When Joel reaches out to touch the small band-aid he insisted on putting onto your knee last night, you take a step back, causing him to freeze in his tracks.

“I’m fine. I'll go and read.”

Joel gives you a few minutes by yourself before he follows you into the living room, placing two mugs of coffee and some crackers on the table before sitting down on the couch. You're curled up on the armchair, only a few steps away from the front door, occasionally casting a glance out of the window to your right. The darkness is slowly fading, dawn ruthlessly drawing closer.

You've picked up a book without really bothering to check what it is. The cover is made of cloth, the color slightly faded, but the texture feels intact. It's a comforting weight in your lap and an even better excuse to keep your eyes off Joel, hyperaware that he is still watching your every move.

You feel like you're back to square one, to the first time you stepped foot into his house. Being taken in and assessed, like a wounded animal. Checking the damage, weighing the options. Deciding whether or not it should be put out of its misery.

Joel leans forward a bit, reaching for a small piece of wood that sits among a few others on the table. Then, he gets out the whittling knife that he keeps in the pocket of his jeans and begins to chip away. 

Even with his eyes focused on the work in front of him, he can tell you're not really reading, your gaze unmoving. You haven't turned the page in at least ten minutes. But he knows not to push. He's content to sit here and wait by your side.

The silence during the next hours is only broken by the small sounds coming from Joel whittling. The small piece of wood he fetched before dawn has turned into the shape of an animal, continuously getting more clear as he works on it. You've put the book down an hour ago, giving up on pretending to read and instead just switching between staring at Joel's hands or into space.

You're certain it's the worst you've ever felt. Sitting and waiting, with the prospect of the letter of a dead girl being delivered today. The impatience drives you out of your seat, makes you pace, first in front of the fireplace, then behind the couch. Back and forth. You try counting the floorboards below you. There are twenty-seven, spanning through the entire room. You step on each one, avoiding the cracks in between. You sit back down. You curl up deeper into your armchair, staring out of the window.

You see him coming down the street before he sees you. When Tommy steps onto the porch, the door is already ajar, your form half hiding behind it. You don't notice the sad smile he sends you. Instead, your eyes are glued to the small paper envelope in his hand.

“Why don’t you come inside?” Joel says quietly from behind you, gently moving you to the side in order to let his brother enter. 

Tommy awkwardly stands in the small hallway for a moment before holding out the envelope. He clears his throat. “Reckon you’ve been waiting for this.” 

You nod automatically, taking the piece of paper from him with a gentle motion and then immediately clutching it to your chest. Tommy’s eyes fly from you to Joel, his eyebrow raising just a tiny bit. 

“Right,” Joel mutters, nodding into the direction of the kitchen. “Why don’t you grab some coffee?” You hear Tommy move further into the house while your fingers are caressing the envelope, staring at the letters on it that form your name.

“Do you want me to stay with you while you—” Joel gestures towards the letter. He watches your face closely as you shake your head. 

“No. I need to do this alone I think.”

“Okay. We’ll be right here if you need anything,” Joel mumbles quietly and reassuringly pats your back before he follows Tommy into the kitchen, leaving you standing in the hallway with a heavy feeling in your chest and the words of a dead girl in your hands.

***

You sit down on the bed, your entire body seemingly numb as you open the envelope and stare at the paper in your hands, filled with the smooth and playful handwriting you've come to recognize so easily.

I know you will not understand this,

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your hands from shaking so much that you can’t make out the words on the page. You already know what's coming and still you dread hearing the words in your head.

but I have decided to end my own life.

You stare at them for a moment. Trying to take them in, weighing them in your mind, trying to understand. But there is no understanding inside of you. Not for this.

I love you so incredibly much. I loved living with you and our time in Jackson was among the best I've had. I’m sorry to be the one to cut it short.

A dull pain throbs in your chest. You ignore it.

You deserve good things. But I know not many have been handed to you so far. I wish I could've been the one to give them to you.

Please do not blame yourself. This was my decision. I promise I’m at peace now.

Her words make you want to scream and cry and curl up into a ball and never speak to anyone ever again and do nothing but wait for Lane to come back. 

Instead, you just quietly hold the letter a little higher to avoid your tears staining the paper.

I know you came to Jackson looking for something. I really do hope you find it.

I wish you the most wonderful life.

I love you, forever.

Lane

***

“I don’t like this,” Joel mutters, his fingers anxiously tapping the counter he’s leaning on. His glance keeps wandering to the doorway, half expecting you to come running in at any moment and bury yourself in his arms. But there is no noise from upstairs, the only sounds in the old house being those of the clock on his kitchen wall and Tommy’s occasional small sighs.

“She shouldn't be alone,” he insists, unsure if he's actually talking to his brother or to himself.

“She's not alone, in a way,” Tommy says quietly. He's staring into his mug, clearly deep in thought as well. “In a way—” He shakes his head. “She's having her last moments with Lane.”

“Oh, gimme a break.” Joel groans, his right hand flying up to pinch his nose. “Do you realize how messed up that is? Leaving her a letter, with no chance to ever reply? The poor girl can’t sleep, she’s not eating—I ain’t trying to talk badly about Lane, god knows she was a sweet girl and I’m sure she had her issues—but she shouldn’t be putting ‘em on someone else just cause she feels like she can.”

At that, Tommy looks up, surveying his brother. All the softness has left his tone, replaced by a harshness that carries a tinge of accusation.

“Are you really the one to judge this?”

“Tommy-” Joel's voice has dropped a good bit too, making him sound like a growling dog. For a split moment, it feels like they’re back to their time before the QZ, back to the fights and the constant tension.

Joel drops his arm, waving his hand slightly. “This ain’t like that.”

“Bullshit.” Tommy gets up so suddenly that Joel startles slightly, but the younger Miller brother just gives a dry laugh and reaches to pour himself more coffee. “Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna hit you, old man.”

The quiet is broken by the small trickle of the coffee. Tommy glances towards Joel's mug to find it empty. “You want another cup?”

“Yes, please,” Joel mumbles, watching as Tommy pours the rest of the brown liquid into his mug. He places the kettle back on the stove before pausing.

“It is exactly like that, Joel. Now I ain’t saying I agree with what she did. But ‘t was her choice. Ain’t nothing we—” He nods towards the ceiling. “—or her can do about that.”

A small groan escapes Tommy’s lips as he sits back down at the kitchen table, stretching his legs. “Talking about it. How’s she been?”

Joel considers his words for a moment. “Bad. I don't know.” His gaze flies to the doorway again, each minute ticking by making him more restless.

“I talked to Maria this morning. Word should’ve reached everyone by now. The whole town is- they're in shock. Everyone’s devastated.” Tommy keeps his eyes on Joel as he takes a sip of his coffee, taking in his brother's silence.

“D’you think she knew? That Lane was gonna—” 

“No.” The answer shoots out of Joel's mouth before he can even consider it. Did you know? Or at least had an idea that something was happening under the surface? He hasn't even thought to ask, not with everything that's been going on.

“It’s just that, with this sort of thing, folks will ask questions—”

“Yeah, well, they won't be asking her any.” Joel suddenly feels like the room is much too small for him and Tommy. He’s dimly aware that this is technically not his job—that you're an adult and not his responsibility, that he should leave the decisions to you—but then he remembers the way you looked on his bathroom floor last night, dry heaving and sobbing so hard he was sure you were gonna pass out from the lack of oxygen.

“She ain’t ready for that.”

Tommy nods, finally averting his gaze. He knows this tone, the slight edge in it. It means there will be no further discussion and he's not keen to push for a fight in the current situation. He finishes his mug, draining it of the last drops.

“There's one more thing. Lane’s mother wants a proper burial. We've been talking to Eugene about it and—” He clicks his tongue a little as he shakes his head. “With the ground frozen over like that, there's no way to dig a grave.”

It's something Joel already should’ve considered. He's been around long enough to know these things, having dug more than enough graves himself. It was hard labor under the best of conditions. But plainy impossible during the Wyoming winter. 

He's not sure why, when he knows all this, Tommy’s words strike him so hard. The girl who hasn’t made it to twenty-six is not even gonna get a grave.

***

You probably should be breaking down. Screaming or sobbing, hell, maybe throwing up again. Surely your body shouldn’t be so still, quiet, small breaths entering your lungs. Surely you should've stopped breathing by now.

But the body is relentless. It will keep you alive as long as it can, despite the thoughts in your head and the grief that seems to spin a cocoon around you, cutting you off from the things that are right in front of you, making them seem miles and miles away.

You have no idea how long you’ve been sitting there when you stand up abruptly. You avoid reading the words again as you slip the letter back into its envelope and place it in the drawer of the nightstand Joel doesn't use.

You don't remember leaving the bedroom or walking down the wooden stairs. But somehow you're standing in the kitchen, with Joel kneeling in front of you. His right hand is intertwined with yours, his calloused fingers brushing past your knuckles and over the soft skin on the back of your hand. His thumb is gently massaging your palm, rubbing small circles into it.

You flinch a bit and, immediately, his features soften. “There you are. Can you hear me?” You manage a shaky nod.

“Good,” Joel praises quietly, still keeping up the circular motions on your skin. “You doin’ real good, darlin’. Now, do you know where you are?”

Your eyes leave him and fly around the room. Joel's kitchen looks exactly how you remember it, with the addition of two empty mugs standing next to the sink. You recognize the one with the owl painted on it as his. Maybe the other is yours, but you can’t recall drinking anything.

“Hm?” Joel hums quietly.

“We’re in your kitchen.” Relief floods Joel's face at that and he nods a little more eagerly. “That’s right. Think you can help me and sit down right there?” He jerks his head into the direction of the small table below the window and begins to move, very slowly pulling you along by your hand.

You pause just as you reach the table. “What time is it?”

Joel turns his head, squinting at the clock at the opposite wall. “Half past ten.” He tugs on your hand again. “Come on, sit down.”

But you are moving in the opposite direction, taking a step back. “I have to go and teach.”

Joel sighs but his voice stays patient. “Honey, you’re on leave, okay? You’re in no state to be teaching. Now come here.”

It’s the quiet, added “Please.” that makes you do as told.

A steaming mug is placed in front of you shortly after. “Made you some tea. Just be careful, ‘t’s still hot.” Your hands are close enough to feel the heat radiating off it and, slowly, you think you are coming back to yourself. Or rather, to the house you’re sitting in.

The cocoon is still there, so is the faulty wire. But they seem to hit you in waves rather than a constant state of anxiety. Somehow, that is worse. You could get used to a metaphorical limp, one that is a constant. But the waves make you feel like you’re drowning in them. If you could only take a deep breath before they come, fill your lungs with the air you need so urgently. But they hit you out of nowhere. You never see them coming.

Joel sighs a little, nudging the mug towards you. “Come on, at least try it.”

“I still have a mug of coffee in the living room,” you suddenly remember. You can’t recall whether or not you drank any of it.

“Honey, that was cold hours ago,” Joel says carefully. “The tea is still warm. Much better, right?”

You find that you can’t argue with that so you take a few, hesitant sips. The heat settles in your stomach. The tide is retreating. Breathing comes a little easier.

Maybe Joel feels the same or maybe he can just tell, somehow. But he too seems to relax a bit more as he watches you drink.

“It’s good,” you press out, craving words to fill the silence.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Not those words.

You shake your head and are incredibly thankful when Joel doesn’t push it this time. Still, you can tell that he looks troubled. “Want me to do some talking instead?”

“Okay,” you mumble, carefully taking another sip of your tea as you wait for him to speak.

“I talked to Tommy earlier, ‘bout some stuff regarding her—‘nd the next few days. Everyone’s been real sad. We thought it may be—” He cringes at the next word. “Nice to have a wake. Give people a chance to say goodbye and grieve before we bury her.” “Okay.”

He sighs, his eyes searching yours. He considers for a moment whether or not he should go on, explain that the burial can’t happen for a while, at least not with a body being put into the ground. Joel opens his mouth—and sees how much you seem to have aged in just a day.

He stays quiet.

Somehow, he gets you through the day. It’s late afternoon when a groan escapes Joel as he sits down on the couch. His back hurts and his head hurts and he is so goddamn tired. He hasn’t slept a second, having been too worried that you could wake up before him and sneak off.

He leans back into the soft fabric, stretching his legs slightly. You’re upstairs, taking a shower. Surely, it won’t hurt if he closes his eyes for just a minute.

***

It’s dark in the living room when Joel wakes again. The light that was streaming in through the windows earlier is gone and his heart rate instantly shoots up, the organ pumping wildly in his chest. He’s on his feet before his brain fully registers the situation. He moves quietly through the dark house, finding the kitchen and dining room empty.

He’s lucky that his left ear is turned towards the hallway when a small noise travels down the stairs. Joel reaches the landing of the upper floor with his revolver drawn. A trail of dim light falls through a crack in the door to his workshop.

Without making a noise, he pushes it open—and all tension immediately leaves his body. You’re perched on the stool he usually occupies, on the far corner of the tables that are arranged below the windows in an L-shape. The typewriter he’s been meaning to fix sits in front of you.

Joel tucks the gun back into his jeans as he opens the door further. The small creak, combined with the noise of footsteps, catches your attention and suddenly, Joel finds you turning towards him. He raises his hands slightly as he crosses the room. “Sorry. I fell asleep.”

“I know. I didn't want to wake you. You seemed really tired.” Joel stops right behind you, a small grumble escaping his throat as he strains his neck to see what you’re working on.

“You should wake me up,” he says quietly, his eyes wandering over the stack of paper and the tools scattered around the typewriter. “What are you doing?”

It's your turn to sigh, raising your shoulders a bit and letting them fall again after a moment. “I wanted to write a speech. For the service.” You can hear Joel swallow behind you.

“That's a nice idea. You sure you're up for it though?”

“Yeah, I’m—It’s okay. Or it would be, if this thing worked,” you groan, reaching for the screwdriver you’d put down when he joined you.

“Been meaning to fix it for a while. I can do it tomorrow if you like. Or now, if it’s urgent,” Joel mutters, taking another small step towards you, one hand placed on your back. He’s close enough that you can smell his body wash. His free hand, the one that had been closed around a gun less than a minute ago, moves over your shoulder and carefully pries the tool out of your hand.

“It’s late. You should get some sleep, at least.” It’s so caring that, again, you don’t find it in you to protest.

“Okay.”

A small, sad smile plays around Joel’s lips at that. He puts the screwdriver down, his form hovering above yours a split moment longer than necessary. Then, he leans forward and places a small kiss on the crown of your head.

“Come on. Off to bed.”

“Can I have a drink before we go?” If the question startles him, he doesn’t let it show.

“Yeah. Sure,” he says quietly. “Believe it or not, I was about to suggest that myself. You like whiskey, right?”

You’re content to find, half an hour later, that with your throat and belly warmed by the alcohol and the rest of your body warmed by Joel's form next to you, an arm draped around your shoulder as he pulls you into his chest, the waves that you could feel crashing in on you earlier seem to stay away. At least for the night.

if you enjoyed the chapter, please consider reblogging/sharing or commenting, i promise it will be the highlight of my day <3

[auredosa]

entertaining the idea of a sylvia drake who started to love cyrus more than her husband in death

sylvia drake who told her husband that she wasn’t going to cheat her way back to health with necromancy, who insisted that she remain in bed and take time off and recover properly, fairly. 

sylvia drake who might have suffered endless sleepless nights of chills and delirium but was not so ill as to ignore her husband becoming disheveled, blue eyes starting to blacken with fatigue and forbidden dark magic. 

sylvia drake who realized there was not much she could do to stop him while bed bound and growing weaker every day, and screamed.

sylvia drake who weakly whispered to cyrus—the only other person who understood that her husband’s devotion was turning into obsession, cyrus, his brother, his keeper—to pull him back from the deep end, to burn that stupid book. 

sylvia drake who, after his efforts were futile, begged cyrus not to leave for too long, don’t go, don’t leave me with him, please, i love him, but he frightens me so.

sylvia who grew to fear her husband more than any cold, plague, or cancer.

sylvia who asks cyrus to take her away, carry her to his home on cyclops lane, away from the dizzying aroma of failed potions, salves, and balms, from the chill of death magic left in her husband’s footsteps. i don’t want to die here. you have always been a soldier, through and through; fight for me, even if that means saving me from my own lover. 

sylvia drake who closes her eyes and prays to raven and spider that this really is the end.

sylvia drake who, when yanked back into the world of the living by the man she once loved—whom she trusted with her mind, body, and spirit, who raised and morphed and mutilated her into something else—reached a rotting hand towards her husband and wrapped her fingers around his throat without a moment’s hesitation. this is not how you cherish life. how dare you insult the school of magic i so adored and excelled in, the only thing i loved more in this world than you.

sylvia drake who, in the blazing heat of the decrepit drake family tomb, is torn between begging the young wizard for death and demanding to know where her husband is, so she may reap him to the other side with her, because isn’t that what he wanted? 

sylvia drake, who, once finally subdued and pacified, can feel the familiar comfort of an artist’s touch, how carefully cyrus captures her spirit within the knowledge crystal and holds it in his calloused hand, before tucking the very last remainder of her being into his robe’s breast pocket, close to his heart. thank heavens, it was you who came back for me. i forgive you for your cowardice. i know it’s not easy, spilling your own blood, but i had a feeling you’d do the right thing. 

sylvia drake, whose very last memory is of being released, of being let go by cyrus’s hand. we cannot keep the dead, but we can set them free, and that is the difference between a conjurer and a necromancer’s grief. 

[deus-sema]

My dear Haladriels/Saurondriels,

I understand that we all here are very passionate about this ship of ours. But, as responsible and law abiding citizens of whichever country each of us belongs to, it is also our duty to weed out the bad apples in our midst who besmirch the good name of our community within the fandom.

Unlike the rest of us sensible and well meaning souls who know how to ship in a proper and decent manner, these notorious shippers have crossed all limits when it comes to delusion and their audacity knows no bounds. In the name of all that is good and just, they need to be called out.

Here are those individuals. If you come across them anywhere do NOT engage. They are beyond saving. Just block/report and move on. If it were upto me, I would have them jailed and locked away from civilized society but alas.

(1) Lost Cause #1

This guy is unbelievable for he comes up with the most outlandish headcanons about Sauron and Galadriel. He romanticizes the hell out of them and spends the entire day writing fluffy AUs where they end up happily ever after and have five kids or angsty ones where they pine for each other. Tch tch. I bet he doesn't know or understand anything about the books or the characters and is simply projecting onto Galadriel and trying to live his fantasy of fixing Sauron through her. It's okay if he wants to do that but then he starts acting like it's canon and it gets annoying. Someone please tell him Galadriel and Sauron aren't star crossed lovers.

(2) Lost Cause #2

Then there this dude who is legit dangerous. The first one was just an ignorant soul who romanticizes them whereas this one sexualizes the ship. Can you believe it?! He sexualizes the Lady Of Light and the Dark Lord. His fics are all porn and no plot. His fanart is blasphemous NSFW. He also prefers the ship when it involves dead dove, non con, stalking and obsession, all of which are supposed to be unhealthy, dangerous and illegal. I'm worried about his well being. If you ask me, like the other guy, he is projecting onto Galadriel too but instead of fixing the sexy bad boy, he wants to make Sauron worse. He,too, understands nothing about the books.

(3) Lost Cause #3

Last, but not the least, there is this guy who is.............hopeless. The other two shippers can still be rehabilitated with some time and effort but stay the fuck away from this one. He doesn't believe Sauron and Galadriel don't end up together. Those two live in AUs but for him, his AU is canon. He fully expects Sauron and Galadriel to ride off to the sunset together and won't let anyone stand in his way. Be it Amazon or the Tolkien Estate. As we waste time on social media, he is devising a means to travel back in time, hold Tolkien at gunpoint and force him to make Saurondriel endgame in the books.

Now, remember everyone. We are NOT like these shippers. We are good shipperses. Nice shipperses who stay in our lane. Sweet shipperses.

[archivist-crow]

On this day:

JERSEY DEVIL

On January 19, 1909, New Jersey and Pennsylvania were terrorized by a creature with glowing eyes, a ram's head, curled horns, an elongated neck, short front legs, hind legs like a crane's ending in horse's hoofs, and batlike wings. Bloodcurdling cries came out of its mouth. At 2:30 a.m., Mr. and Mrs. Nelson Evans, awakened by a strange noise, looked out their window and watched the beast on their shed rooftop for ten minutes before Mr. Evans bravely chased it away.

During the week of January 16-23, over a thousand people in thirty different towns witnessed the Jersey Devil prowling down alleys, racing through yards, and flying through the sky. It was shot at by the police, doused with water by firemen, almost hit by a trolley car, and beaten with a broom by a woman who caught the monster with her dog in its grip. Hoof prints were found in many yards, on roofs, and up trees. Hunters organized a posse to track it, but the dogs refused to follow the scent. Farmers throughout the Delaware Valley found their chickens dead, but unmarked.

The Jersey Devil was supposedly born to a New Jersey woman in the mid-1700s. During the 1800s, naval hero Commodore Decatur was test firing cannon balls when the Jersey Devil flew across the sky. In 1927, a cab driver with a flat tire saw the devil land on the roof of his car. In 1953 a man saw it walking down the street, and in 1961 two couples in a lover's lane saw the beast smash in their car roof before it flew away along the treetops.

Text from: Almanac of the Infamous, the Incredible, and the Ignored by Juanita Rose Violins, published by Weiser Books, 2009

[piglinmyfeet]

Chapter 3 of Lovers Lane is a Dead End

I think this fic is becoming my official history procrastination work

(also thanks @/dayables for the ask about this fic, you really motivated me to finish off this chapter :D)

[callalillywrites]

His Dream Come True

Another older work that I'm reposting. It's actually been updated with an expanded ending and some other revisions/edits.

If I'm not mistaken, this was my first Jake Jensen piece when I first wrote it, and it's going to be my first Jake Jensen piece being put back here on this blog. So there you go.

Jake Jensen Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Jensen x F!Reader

Word Count: ~4500

Summary: Jake learns that you're engaged to another and believes he's lost his chance. When he heads home, he soon finds himself running into you over and over again. In the end, he might get the chance he's always wanted but never took until it was too late.

Warnings: friends-to-lovers; Jake was thought to be dead at one point; insecure Jake; heartbroken Jake; missed opportunities; happy ending; broken engagement; love confessions

A/N: This story was inspired by Marry Me by Thomas Rhett and is a follow-up to this Steve fic though you could potentially read it as a standalone as well.

I do not give permission to have my works copied, translated, reposted, or fed into an AI machine.

****

The fancy envelope rested heavily in Jake’s hands.

He didn’t need to open it to know what it contained.

You’d found someone else.

He’d known that would happen eventually, and he couldn’t even blame you. It wasn’t your fault he’d always been too much a chickenshit to tell you how he felt.

That doesn’t stop him from begging Clay to let him leave their latest mission early.

He needed to see you. Even if it was just to say goodbye to you and wish you well, then that would be enough. It would have to be.

As much as he might’ve wanted to stand in front of you and bare his soul to you, he knew he couldn’t do that if you’d found your true love. He couldn’t be that selfish. Not with you.

He kept that promise as he walked into your parents’ home for your engagement party.

You were easy to spot the moment he stepped inside the familiar living room. It was the room where you and he would spend hours playing when he wasn’t dragging you outside. It’s the same room where you would show him all the ideas you had about a perfect wedding. You would even go on to play it out with your many stuffies and have him play your groom every so often.

Oh, how he wished he’d known he would come to relive those moments more often later on. He wouldn’t have pushed you away a few times or scrubbed your kisses from his cheeks.

If he could go back, it wouldn’t be to his youngest self but to his teenage self.

The soccer team had gone out to celebrate their hard-won victory. You’d sat next to him at the local diner, wearing the cutest shirt you’d made to cheer him on. At one point, he realized just how close the two of you were. You seemed to do the same. To his complete surprise, you leaned toward him as he dared a longing glance at your lips. He mimicked your movements, getting ever closer to kissing you for the first time. He knew it would change things, but in that moment, he’d known he wanted to. Oh, he really wanted to. Yet, it hadn’t been meant to be as a teammate banged the window near the booth, interrupting and ending the moment between you two.

His trip down memory lane ended the moment you spotted him.

You said something to the man at your side. Your fiancé, no doubt. Then, you were weaving through your friends and family until you stood right in front of him.

“Jakey?” Your voice shook while your hand came up, nearly cupping his cheek. It never made contact though as you launched yourself at him, wrapping yourself around him. “I can’t believe you’re here. They told me you died. Should be so mad at you right now, but I’m just so happy you’re alive.”

His arms tightened around you.

When he pulled back, he tugged a small chain from his pocket. “How could anything ever happen to me when I’ve got my good luck charm?”

You gasped at the little rabbit charm you’d bought him before his first deployment. It’d been one of the last things you’d given to him before the two of you went separate ways. You to university and Jake to boot camp.

“You kept that?”

He nodded. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I? You gave it to me.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but the man who’d been at your side before joined the two of you. His arm went around your waist. It wasn’t an act of possession, but it affected Jake in a way he hadn’t been prepared. You were truly not his any longer. Never would he be allowed such liberty with you.

“Oh, Jake, this is Steve, my fiancé. Stevie, this is Jake. He’s been my best friend since forever.”

Jake exchanged a few rather pleasant words with Steve.

As much as he hated it, he couldn’t dislike the man who’d gotten his ring on your finger. Another fellow military guy, Steve left the service a few years before and met you shortly after at a VA event. You’d gotten involved with the VA after Jake joined the military himself. Steve had been the one to help you through your grief over believing Jake was gone.

When Steve’s called away, you hesitate. Your hand does reach up to cup his cheek as you said, “I’m really glad you’re okay. You’re not allowed to ever scare me like that again, you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He shot you what he hoped was a cheeky grin.

The way you shook your head while fighting back a smile, he must’ve succeeded.

As much as he wanted to steal you away and catch up, your other friends and family soon dragged you away from him.

He didn’t leave for a little while as some of your family came up to him and chatted with him, happy to see him alive as well.

At one point, your father pulled him to the side and offered him a stiff drink.

“You look like you could use it, son,” your father said by way of explanation.

Your father and Jake shared the quiet moment, sipping at the dark bourbon and watching the party continue without them for the moment.

“Steve’s a good man. He’ll take real good care of my daughter. It’s all I ever wanted for her,” he said, breaking the silence. When your father’s gaze slid toward Jake, he couldn’t help a small chuckle as he added, “But I can’t say that I haven’t thought I’d be giving her away to you over someone else. I would’ve approved if you had ever made a move. Just so you know.”

Unable to form words, Jake tried and failed to think up anything beyond a shocked, “Thank you, sir.”

He couldn’t possibly imagine what he could say to that information.

Your laugh caught his attention as Steve spun you before dipping you in front of your friends and family. The smile you graced Steve with made the bourbon he sipped settle like a hot bolt of lead in his stomach.

That was a smile he hadn’t seen from you in ages. It wouldn’t be a smile meant for him again.

“Excuse me, sir,” he said, handing your father his half-finished glass. “I, um, I should probably get to my sister’s. She’s expecting me. I’m glad she’s happy.”

He bit his tongue to keep himself from rambling further.

Before he left your parents’ home, he dared a final glance in your direction.

Your gaze was on him, and a small frown appeared across your features.

Not wanting you to ever be upset, he gave you the best impression of a smile that he could muster and a half-hearted wave.

The late afternoon sun burned his eyes, but he didn’t slow his pace to the truck he’d rented. He needed to get away from you and your parents’ home. The memories would forever haunt him. Taunt him with roads not taken.

He doesn’t see you standing at the front door, watching him drive away. Nor does he see the tears that spring to your eyes that you hastily swipe away before Steve can see them. Your fingers begin to play with the engagement ring on your left hand.

*****

Clay had been generous in the time off he gave Jake.

Pulling up to his sister’s home, he soon found himself wrapped up in a tight hug. His sister around his neck and his niece around his waist. Their love helped ease the sadness lingering in him at seeing you so happy with someone else.

“Uncle JJ, you gonna come to my games since you’re back?”

Jake grinned. “Wouldn’t miss them for the world, squirt.”

His sister granted him some mercy then by shooing his niece off so she could settle him into the guest room of their home.

“Oh, I found a box of your old stuff when I was cleaning up the closet in here the other day. Thought you might want it, so I put it over there.” She pointed to the box that was sitting in the small chair situated in front of an antique writing desk she found at a flea market a few years back. She’d been so proud of the find and the plans she had for it, sending them all over several text messages to him.

“Thanks,” he nodded at the box, then gestured to the room, “for everything.”

She left him to settle in then.

It didn’t take him long to unpack as he’d long since learned to pack light. He had his few belongings either hanging in the closet or put away in the small drawers of the dresser.

With nothing else really to do for the moment, he approached the box and popped the folded flaps. Photos and notebooks filled the interior alongside some of his soccer trophies and other memorabilia from his high school years.

The one thing that stood out the most was the pink notebook he’d thought he lost some years ago. It’d been a special secret between you and him. The two of you would write whatever you had on your minds and share them, so others wouldn’t see them.

He recalled the one time one of his teammates had grabbed the notebook and tried to read it. Thankfully, the two of you had used a special language you two had created in your childhood. The two hadn’t bothered with keeping a code of that language, either.

As he sank down on the edge of the bed, he opened up the notebook. The strange words and their actual meanings came back to him as he started reading. Small smiles and several shakes of his head followed along his reading.

Time quickly sped away as he got lost in the notebook and all the secrets the two of you shared.

It wasn’t until he got to the last page that he nearly dropped the notebook.

The last entry was one he hadn’t seen before. It was in your handwriting, too. The date on it was the same day he shipped out.

He read and reread the words until they were forever ingrained in his mind.

I love you, Jake. I’ve always loved you. Come home to me, okay? I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life, now or ever.

You’d confessed, and he hadn’t seen it until that moment.

His heart twisted while his stomach churned painfully. Burning moisture blurred his vision behind his glasses and soon speckled the lenses.

Did this mean that you thought he hadn’t loved you back?

That thought had him nearly tripping over himself to reach the bathroom. The two bits of finger food he had alongside the bourbon your father had given him came up. That was soon replaced with pure bile that burned his throat. He didn’t have much left before he shifted to dry heaving. It hurt to breathe, and he couldn’t get the vice around his heart to loosen.

He lost track of how long he stayed kneeling over the toilet. His knees shook from their prolonged hold. His hands shook for a different reason, but he didn’t notice as much. He kept clenching and unclenching them to ground himself.

When he could safely say that nothing else would be coming up, he rinsed his mouth out and drenched his face with more water. His skin felt on fire as his thoughts continued to reel with this new piece of information.

Had he really cost himself his greatest dream?

You’d hugged him as though you’d never said the words.

How much had he hurt you when he hadn’t responded to your message all those years ago? How did you not hate him for that?

He didn’t deserve you. He realized that now.

If he’d been a real friend, he would’ve seen your message. He wouldn’t have let you doubt his love for you. Hell, he wouldn’t have let you get there because he would’ve kissed you when he had the chance.

That was all gone now.

He knew then he would spend the rest of his vacation avoiding you. It was only fair to step aside now and let you find your happiness with someone else.

If only fate was so kind to him and his plans…

*****

Over the course of the next few weeks, Jake could count on both hands and feet the number of times he accidentally ran into you.

It wasn’t exactly hard to do in the smallish city you both called home for so long. Yet, it shouldn’t have been so easy, either.

If Jake didn’t know better, he would think someone was orchestrating this whole thing.

More often, Jake would manage to spot you and duck around a corner before you spotted him. He didn’t want to make it awkward for you or himself by actually running into you. Well, more like making it awkward for himself. There was no guarantee that he wouldn’t say something stupid. In fact, it was almost a sure thing he would.

His filter never really existed around you.

Yet, you never minded that about him. With you, he could be himself. You never made him feel bad about it, either. Sure, you might tease him every now and then, but you were never mean about it. It’d been one of the reasons he fell so hard for you all those years ago. Why he was still so in love with you.

The times he couldn’t escape without you spotting him, he would offer up a wave and pick up an item. Then, he ducked out of the aisle and out of the store. He’d most often leave his items behind for some poor worker to deal with, but he couldn’t bring himself to go back. He couldn’t until you left, then he would begin his shopping all over again.

By the end of his third week, he was ready to pull out his frosted tips by the roots.

You’d cornered him in one of the shops, spotting him before he even clocked you.

“What gives?” you demanded, crossing your arms over your chest.

He gulped. “Nothing. What’s up?”

Well, so much for playing it cool with the way he stammered.

“You’re avoiding me, and I want to know why.”

“I’m not.”

His gaze couldn’t help scanning the store for signs of your fiancé. The last thing he wanted was to have a confrontation with you and have Steve overhear it.

“Now, you’re lying to me. All those years as best friends really don’t mean that much, do they?”

“That’s not true. You know it’s not. I…”

He couldn’t bring himself to say the words he wanted to say. He couldn’t do that to you or your fiancé. You’d made your choice. He wasn’t it.

He could only hope that you would see the truth in his eyes.

That was if you’d look at him.

No, you stubbornly stared at some spot over his shoulder.

He could see the moment you made up your mind about whatever thoughts crossed it. Your shoulders squared up, and you let out a slow, steadying breath.

“It’s fine, Jake. At least, I can put the past to rest now. I am glad you’re safe and alive. I hope you stay that way. I really do. The world needs you in it.”

You took a step away and turned back to the shopping cart you’d been pushing around. Over your shoulder, you added in the softest voice he’s ever heard from you, “I really hope you have a good life, Jake. You deserve it.”

Jake fought the urge to reach out and pull you back to him. He wanted to tell you everything that’s ever entered his mind about you, but he let you walk away from him again.

In an equally soft voice, he waited for you to leave the aisle to say, “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

What he didn’t know was his quiet voice wasn’t so quiet. He didn’t know you’d stopped in the next aisle over and rested your head against the shelf. He didn’t know that his words carried to your ears or the way your unshed tears blurred then streaked down your face.

He didn’t see you play with the engagement ring on your finger. It’d become a new habit since he’d walked back into your life. You weren’t even aware of it.

There was someone who did notice and has noticed the change in you since Jake came back into your life. He couldn’t say he liked it, but he couldn’t deny you anything, either. If your heart called out to Jake’s instead of his, then he’d let you off the hook. He’d help you get your guy.

*****

The bright red glow of the clock next to his bed taunted Jake.

He should’ve been asleep hours ago, but he’d been unable to sleep since you cornered him earlier that day. He couldn’t get your sad eyes off his mind or the words you’d said to him. How he wished he could’ve told you the truth.

The words had been on the tip of his tongue, but he’d swallowed them back. Just like every other opportunity he’d had with you over the last couple decades.

No, you deserved to live a happy life with a guy like Steve. Not the hopeless case he was.

Maybe his friends had been right about him. Maybe he did screw things up to the point he’d forever be alone. He probably even deserved it for the way he’d treated you earlier and that fateful day years ago.

Shoving the heels of his hands into his eyes, he tried to shut his thoughts down. He needed sleep if he was going to watch his niece’s first game since he came back home. He wasn’t going to disappoint her like he’d done with you for far too long.

He set his laptop next to him and dropped back into the pillows behind his back. His eyes had just slammed shut with the purpose of falling asleep when his phone dinged.

When he might’ve ignored it, another message dinged. A few more followed until he couldn’t ignore the noise any longer.

His fingers deftly opened the screen to shut down his notifications when he froze.

None of the messages came from his friends.

They came from you.

You awake?

Where are you?

I really need to see you.

Please, Jakey, it’s important.

Jake fumbled his phone as he reread your messages. It took him several tries to even write a reply that resembled some level of comprehension.

Can you meet me on the porch in 5?

I won’t stay long.

Just really need to see you.

He texted back quickly.

In a rush to meet you like you asked, he donned the pants he’d been wearing earlier but forewent the shirt. There wasn’t much need for one in the still-warm night air.

Then again, maybe a small part of him wanted you to see him and be a little impressed with the physique he’d gained from his years in the military.

He ducked out of his room, grateful it was the one closest to the front door. That meant less chance of waking his sister or niece at such a late hour.

You were already waiting in an SUV when he stepped outside. The interior light illuminated your teary face alongside the gentle smile on the man you’d be marrying in less than a month.

Jake had to swallow the bile rising in his throat at seeing Steve cup your cheek. He almost couldn’t when Steve pressed a kiss to your other cheek. You said something to Steve and hugged him for a long moment, then stepped out of the vehicle.

To Jake’s surprise, Steve waited until you stood on the porch under the light with him before Steve started the vehicle up. He shot Jake a single nod before pulling out of the drive and headed down the road.

“Where is he going?” Jake couldn’t help asking, his gaze still following the retreating taillights. “Why is he leaving you here?”

“He seems to think I belong here,” you said in the smallest voice. Your arms came up to wrap around yourself as you met his surprised gaze. “I’m hoping he’s not wrong. Did you mean what you said earlier?”

Jake doesn’t know how to answer that. He couldn’t recall anything he’d said earlier that would’ve given you an inkling of his feelings. As much as he might’ve wanted to tell you, he’d been so careful not to put you in that position. Hadn’t he?

“You said you loved me. I don’t think you meant anyone to hear it,” you finally supplied, “but did you mean it?”

“It doesn’t matter if I did or didn’t. You’re engaged to Steve.” Jake spared a glance at the empty street, a frown forming. “Though, I’m beginning to have my doubts about how good he is for you. Has he done this before? Left you somewhere without any way to get home? Tell me, and I’ll kick his ass for you. I’ll—”

You cut him off then.

Your lips pressed against his in a way he’d never thought to experience with anyone before, least of all you. It wasn’t anything more than a chaste kiss to shut him up, but he could taste the berry lip balm you’ve always favored on your lips. He could feel your breath against his lips when you pulled back the smallest amount.

Your left hand came up. The shimmering diamond ring that had adorned your finger these past weeks was missing.

“I’m sorry,” he said on a breath.

Your breath hitched. “You don’t…”

You let the words hang between the two of you.

It took Jake a moment to catch on to your meaning, but he quickly shook his head. “Oh, no, no. I’m not sorry I said I loved you. I meant that. God, I’ve meant it for years. No, I’m sorry if my saying it cost you your engagement.”

“I never should’ve said yes to Steve. He was a sweet guy who helped me through my grief, and I do love him.” You stop to take a breath. That same steely determination he witnessed in you earlier that day and countless other times settled in you. Your shoulders squared and your gaze met his with a fierceness that had him holding his breath. “But he’s never been the man that held my heart. He was never going to replace the one I’ve loved since we said our first ‘I do’s’ in my parents’ living room all those years ago.”

In the secret language you two came up with, you whispered, “I’m in love with you, Jake. Always have been. Always will be.”

This time, Jake kissed you. It was a lot of smushed lips and knocked teeth, but neither of you cared. Soon, the two of you found the right angles to deepen the kiss until it left you both breathless and aching.

When he pulled away, he ran his thumb over your cheek and whispered, “You’ve always been my dream. If you’ll give me a chance, I’d like to make my dream come ”

"I think I can do that." You grinned at him, then traced a finger down his bare chest to his belly button. Your grin widened at the shiver that your action caused. "First, you must tell me what the military does to make you look this good, Jakey. I'm all for a demonstration."

Beet red, Jake ushered you inside where he was all too happy to show everything your heart desired.

*****

The two of you ended up going slower than your first night intimated.

Neither of you wanted to rush into something, especially with your broken engagement so fresh in everyone’s minds.

Your first date together took place away from all your familiar haunts. In fact, it wasn’t even in the same small city but rather an hour’s drive away. The two of you enjoyed an outdoor concert before sharing an intimate dinner at a hole-in-the-wall place where nobody knew your names.

Jake continued to work missions with the other Losers, all of whom you met almost six months after your first date. While Clay had been warmer in his welcome, you could tell the others had a protective streak where Jake was concerned. Aisha had cornered you at one point to ensure your intentions with him were aboveboard.

You couldn’t say that you fully earned her trust, but you sensed a bit of warming on her part when you assured her Jake was it for you. That you’d only given up when you’d thought he’d died during one of his missions. To know he lived had been one of the best days of your life even though you’d been engaged to someone else at the time. If you could go back and make it so you never hurt either Jake or Steve, you would do it in a heartbeat.

Speaking of Steve, you and Jake did end up running into him almost eight months after that night. While the run-in had been awkward at first, you soon discovered that Steve had used his time away wisely. He looked so much happier, healthier if that were possible. When a beautiful woman joined your group, you soon learned why. He’d found his one, and you couldn’t have been happier for him.

Jake proposed to you almost eighteen months after your first date.

It was actually the date of your first almost kiss. He’d even asked you in the same diner booth where you’d had that almost moment. His fingers had nearly fumbled the ring, but he saved it from a creamy collision with the chocolate pie you two had decided to split.

You’d said yes with tears in your eyes and many kiss to make up for that missed opportunity.

Your father hadn’t hesitated in congratulating the two of you when you told your family. He did, however, make a crack about not paying for another wedding if this one didn’t stick this time, but you knew he was truly happy for you both. He’d even taken Jake aside and handed him a small envelope that Jake wouldn’t show you until later that evening.

Inside, it held your grandmother’s wedding ring set as well as a check for a decent down payment for a starter home.

On your wedding day, you noted how Jake bit back his own emotions at seeing you walking down the aisle toward him. Friends and family surrounded you that day with laughter and love.

Jake’s dream had become your dream, too.

What’s more, it had definitely come true.

[best-iwtv-scene]

ROUND 1C, MATCH 5

Descriptions/Propaganda under the cut:

Charlie (1x04)

Claudia becomes besotted with a young carriage driver, named Charlie. After a date with the young human, the pair find a secluded area to hook up in the back of Charlie's carriage, Claudia copying what she saw on lover's lane. Claudia's urges, however, get the better of her and she unintentionally kills Charlie as she feeds from him. Distraught, and looking for comfort and help from her parents, she takes the body back to the Rue Royale but is met with Lestat's 'tough love', showing no sympathy for the young vampire. Louis clearly disagrees with Lestat's approach but stays quiet throughout the scene. Claudia is made to clean up after herself, and Lestat forces her to watch Charlie's burning body in the incinerator, believing that the girl needs to be taught a hard lesson, just as he was when he was younger. The final moment is scored by 'Charlie' by Daniel Hart, the emotive strings mimicking Claudia's intense emotions. "Stop squirming and watch. Remember this. His face as it melts. This is why we never get close to mortals. Because sooner or later they end up dead."

Propaganda:

No propaganda was submitted for this scene.

Claudeleine sentencing/execution (2x07)

As the trial comes to an end, the audience is given the decision of what Madeleine, Claudia and Louis's verdicts and sentences are. Madeleine, still dazed and confused from the coven's powers, stands at the centre of the stage and chooses to die with Claudia, rather than join the coven, "I am the vampire Madeleine Eparvier. And my immortal companion is Claudia. My coven is Claudia." Claudia, defiant and knowing what her sentence will be, threatens the audience, "If there is an afterlife, I'm going to come back and fucking kill all of you. And if there isn't an afterlife, I'm still going to find a way." The two vampires' execution is narrated by Armand in Dubai, his perspective giving their final moments a bit of distance, amplified by the sparse woodwind of "In Nomine Magni" by Daniel Hart. The two women cling to each other as a ray of sun beams down onto them, slowly burning them. Madeleine dies first, leaving Claudia alone, singing 'I Don't Like Windows' and screaming in pain, and, in her final moment, Claudia looks to Lestat behind her, looking for comfort in the only vampire left which she could consider family. The scene is a heartbreaking and deeply disturbing moment, the camera lingering on Claudia as she burns, not allowing the audience to look away. "And you could tell from the look on Lestat's face, the last thing she saw on Earth was him."

Propaganda:

IT GAVE ME THE HUGEST CHILLS AND LITERALLY DIDNT LET ME SLEEP IT WAS BEAUTIFUL

Submitted by @jameslongforjimshortforgabriel

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🌈 Queer Books Coming Out in March 2024 🌈

🌈 Good afternoon, my bookish bats! Struggling to keep up with all the amazing queer books coming out this month? Here are a FEW of the stunning, diverse queer books you can add to your TBR before the year is over. Remember to #readqueerallyear! Happy reading!

[ Release dates may have changed. ]

❤️ Shift: A Memoir of Identity and Other Illusions - Penny Guisinger 🧡 Tempting Olivia - Clare Ashton 💛 Monilinia - Free Mints 💚 Guillaume - Aurora Dimitre 💙 The Marble Queen - Anna Kopp & Gabrielle Kari 💜 The Baker & the Bard - Fern Haught ❤️ Rainbow! - Sunny & Gloom 🧡 The Safe Zone - Amy Marsden 💛 The Weavers of Alamaxa - Hadeer Elsbai 💙 The No-Girlfriend Rule - Christen Randall 💜 A Different Kind of Brave by Lee Wind 🌈 Cirque du Slay - Rob Osler ❤️ Wizard’s Debt - Niranjan 🧡 One Last Breath - Ginny Myers Sain 💛 Nothing Special - Katie Cook 💚 I Feel Awful, Thanks - Lara Pickle 💙 The Tower - Flora Carr 💜 Be the Sea - Clara Ward ❤️ What Grows in the Dark - Jaq Evans 🧡 Heirs of Bone and Sea - Kay Adams 💛 The Haunting of Velkwood - Gwendolyn Kiste 💙 Thunder Song - Sasha taqwšəblu LaPointe 💜 Mona of the Manor - Armistead Maupin 🌈 Like Happiness - Ursula Villarreal-Moura

❤️ Ellipses - Vanessa Lawrence 🧡 Saint, Sorrow, Sinner - Freydís Moon 💛 Blood & Brujas - Mikayla D. Hornedo 💚 Infinity Kings - Adam Silvera 💙 Really Cute People - Markus Harwood-Jones 💜 How You Were Born - Kate Cayley ❤️ These Bodies Between Us - Sarah Van Name 🧡 Icarus - K. Ancrum 💛 The Emperor and the Endless Palace - Justinian Huang 💙 How Not to Date an Angel - Lana Kole 💜 Enemy Colours - R.M. Olson 🌈 Broken Parts Included - Alyson Root

❤️ Who's Afraid of Gender? - Judith Butler 🧡 The Duke’s Cowboy - Andrew Grey 💛 The Secret Something - Emily Wright 💚 Colstead & Andie - Olivia Janae 💙 Play It Again, Ma’am - Sienna Waters 💜 Love Is…? - K.J. Wrights ❤️ Welcome to Forever - Nathan Tavares 🧡 Just Another Epic Love Poem - Parisa Akhbari 💛 The Phoenix Bride - Natasha Siegel 💙 These Letters End in Tears - Musih Tedji Xaviere 💜 Truly Home - J.J. Hale 🌈 Monster Mixer - Robin Jo Margaret

❤️ The House of Hidden Meanings - RuPaul 🧡 Promised to the Queen - Barbara Winkes 💛 A Conclave of Crimson - Nicole Eigener & Beverley Lee 💚 A Hunt of Blood and Iron - Cara Nox 💙 The Fealty of Monsters - Ladz 💜 Ariel Crashes a Train - Olivia A. Cole ❤️ Those Beyond the Wall - Micaiah Johnson 🧡 Dancing Toward Stardust - Julia Underwood 💛 Heir to Dreams & Darkness - Ben Alderson 💙 Comet Cruise - Niska Morrow 💜 Dead Girls Walking - Sami Ellis 🌈 Blackout - Carlos E. Rivera

❤️ Monster Crush - Erin Ellie Franey 🧡 Blessed Water - Margot Douaihy 💛 These Fragile Graces, This Fugitive Heart - Izzy Wasserstein 💚 Kiss of Seduction - Rawnie Sabor 💙 Sunbringer - Hannah Kaner 💜 Evacuation to Love - C.A. Popovich ❤️ Sin - Brooke Matthews 🧡 Falls from Grace - Ruby Landers 💛 Lean in to Love - Catherine Lane 💙 A Small Apocalypse - Laura Chow Reeve 💜 Cascade Failure - L.M. Sagas 🌈 The Mars House - Natasha Pulley

❤️ All This Time - Sage Donnell 🧡 The Romance Lovers Book Club - MA Binfield 💛 View from the Top - Morgan Adams 💚 Number Call - Nagisa Furuya 💙 Crossing Bridges - Chelsey Lynford 💜 The Boyfriend Subscription - Steven Salvatore ❤️ Love the World or Get Killed Trying - Alvina Chamberland 🧡 Synthetic Sea - Franklyn S. Newton 💛 The Prince & His Stolen Groom - J.E. Ridge 💙 Chrysalis and Requiem - Quinton Li 💜 Where Sleeping Girls Lie - Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé 🌈 A Botanical Daughter - Noah Medlock

❤️ Wednesday Nights - by Donna Jay 🧡 The Woods All Black - Lee Mandelo 💛 Song of the Huntress - Lucy Holland 💚 Rainbow Black - Maggie Thrash 💙 Spirits & Sunflowers - A.D. Armistead & Austin Daniel 💜 Floating Hotel - Grace Curtis ❤️ Far From Camelot - Rylee Hale 🧡 This Way to Change - Jezz Chung 💛 Mexican Bird - Luis Lopez-Maldonado 💙 Android Affection: Unveiling - Beau Van Dalen 💜 Welcome to the Damned - Astraea Long 🌈 She Came for Blood - Darva Green

❤️ Cover Story - Rachel Lacey 🧡 The Poisons We Drink - Bethany Baptiste 💛 The Perfect Guy Doesn't Exist - Sophie Gonzales 💚 In Walked Trouble - Dana Hawkins 💙 Never Leave, Never Lie - Thea Verdone 💜 Guardian: Zhen Hun - Priest ❤️ All the World Beside - Garrard Conley 🧡 Rainbows, Unicorns, and Triangles - Jessica Kingsley Publishers 💛 The Feast Makers - H.A. Clarke 💙 Synthetic Sea - Franklyn S. Newton 💜 All the Painted Stars - Emma Denny 🌈 A Hard Sell - Jennifer Moffatt