#please bear in mind when you read this that I am sleep deprived

[makenoplans]

all gale banter! (that i am currently aware of)

hiii gale enthusiasts, i just spent the past few hours picking through videos trying to find all of gales party banter and transcribing it! check under the cut for verbose details

copied directly from the doc i transcribed this into so youll have to bear with the initials to denote who is speaking when! generally speaking, initials are a=astarion, g=gale, h=halsin, j=jaheira, k=karlach, l=lae'zel, m=minthara, s=shadowheart, and w=wyll

(except for two minsc quotes that are also m, both where he mentions his name so like... it's obvious)

transcribed with attention paid to particular noises characters make that aren't quite whole words and also words that are emphasized!

please let me know if youre aware of any banter ive missed!

warning: long

G: Karlach! A hypothetical question for you. If someone - not me, of course - detected a hint of romantic interest in them from another… unnamed individual, erm, what might that someone… do about it?

K: Whoever it is, just talk to them, Gale! And leave out the hypotheticals.

G: Talking. Right! I'm good at that!

A: So, Gale, how is your sad, hopeless pining going?

G: [Ach!] I'm hardly pining! Been a year or more since Mystra cast me aside!

A: Oh, my dear wizard, I wasn't talking about Mystra.

W: I used to believe the beauty of first love was unable to be surpassed, but Gale, you are so much more tolerable now that you've found your second.

G: I'll take that comment with the sincerity and good will I assume it was intended.

G: Have you noticed any attachments of the more, er, romantic variety flourishing in our camp, Wyll?

W: I think I'm not the right person to be asking. I can recognize a troll silhouette on a far horizon, but I wouldn't know a flirtation if you whacked me alongside the head with it.

G: I see you waste no time pursuing your quarry, Astarion.

A: Hmph! I rather thought I was a little slow this time. Usually they're begging me to dream them on the first night.

G: Tell me - you always woo your lovers with such patient attention?

A: As the vampire ascendant I can grant my lover immortality and bind them to me forever.

G: Hmm. I trust you speak of the bonds of love, not the shackles of servitude.

G: Am I to understand that you are in love now, Karlach?

K: I sure am. [heh] If there's hope for me, there's hope for anyone.

G: I'm surprised you're permitted to choose a partner outside of your own people.

L: We had to use and misuse each civilization in the stars in every way we know. I do not conquer by blade alone, Gale.

G: I can't imagine Mother Gith would approve. Doesn't she prefer us lesser species enslaved? Or eviscerated?

M: You've been smiling like a fool of late, wizard. Explain yourself.

G: I found love. Surely even you wouldn't begrudge me some happiness?

M: All I can say on the matter is that you were wise to lower your standards from the godly to the ghastly.

G: Tell me, Lae'zel: is it common for githyanki to fall in love?

L: Love? Is that this feeling in me, then? This passion to peel every layer of one's heart to see what light and shadows lurk there? I doubt I am the first githyanki to… to feel this way, but few would ever declare it. Githyanki have playmates, thrill partners but I've never heard anyone profess love, nor read of it in our slates.

L: Gale, I've heard you talking in your sleep. Your mate needs better rest for our journey.

G: And deprive them of the pleasure of hearing my nocturnal postulations? I'd never be so cruel. The mind absorbs much while we believe ourselves dormant. To lie beside Gale of Waterdeep is positively educational.

G: If you're feeling faint after your bout with Cazador, Astarion, I don't mind donating some blood.

A: Aha! Well, you're still full of that Netherese bile, I'll pass, thank you! Besides, I have someone else to nibble on, and they are delicious.

G: I'm glad to know you have a softer side, Minthara. I was beginning to think you rather… heartless.

M: Loving another is not soft, wizard. It is one of the hardest things a person can do.

G: So you admit you found love! Aww. How delightful. I'm happy for you both.

A: So, how was your night with Gale? Did you have a long, hard debate?

G: Ugh. Ignore him. Astarion envies the depth of a bond because he's of a shallower inclination.

G: So Astarion, I hear your relationship has taken on a new aspect recently.

A: My life has taken on "a new aspect." It's only natural that my relationships change as well.

G: Halsin! You must have accumulated considerable wisdom on matters of the heart in your long life. Anything you'd like to pass on to a… strapping, lovestruck wizard such as myself?

H: [hehehe] Dispensing advice on matters of the heart would be like swapping boots. What suits me may be a… poor fit for you.

G: Ah. Well. There's no faulting that logic. At least you didn't tell me to "be myself."

H: Oh no, perish the thought. That can be outright cruel advice to offer in certain cases.

G: Indulge me, Lae'zel, as someone unfettered by Faerunian beauty standards: how would you appraise my appearance?

L: Your beard looks like the hairy tufts upon the [surlon], the largest of wyrmkind that sliver our skies.

G: Hm. I suppose that's… a bad thing? No. Don't answer that.

G: Wild-shaping must sprinkle some spice on your love life, Halsin.

H: Heh. Indeed it does. Did you… never experience such delights with Mystra? I, uh, hear the gods enjoy taking on the forms of swans, horses, eagles and the like when… visiting with mortals?

G: Oh no, quite the opposite, actually! She mostly preferred our interactions to be abstract, and incorporeal. Most invigorating.

G: So, Lae'zel, have you ever been tempted to use psionics in your, uh, romantic endeavors?

L: Only once. Did you know, in low-gravity settings, githyanki can maintain aerial suspension for hours at a time?

G: Fascinating! I think the arch-mage Tasha described a spell with similar affect! I really must look that up.

G: I've always felt flames to be a rather perfect expression of love, Karlach. Passionate! Primal! Capable of bestowing the most life-affirming comfort - or - inflicting the profoundest damage.

L: That's… pretty nice. Never thought about it like that. But… now I will.

G: I've been pondering something, Lae'zel. Why is it that githyanki have bellybuttons, hm? When they hatch from eggs?

L: I did not grant you permission to gaze upon my midriff.

G: I- I wasn't gazing! Merely observing! Though that can hardly be said for a certain someone else.

G: Y'know, Karlach, there are other ways to express love beyond run-of-the-mill physicality.

K: Ugh! Are you going to try and teach me about exceptional uses for a mage hand or what?

G: W-well actually, I was thinking of poetry!

K: Oops. Sorry. But, uh, now that I think of it… is mage hand especially hard to learn?

G: Even shaped by shadow as it is, Sharran architecture has a kind of beauty to it.

K: Beautifully intimidating. This place was meant to scare people into submission.

G: There you go. Cutting right through the ephemera to the heart of the matter. Hm! Your finest quality, I think.

K: Uh. Here I thought I rubbed you the wrong way.

G: Nothing wrong with a bit of friction now and then. You help me keep my mind sharp.

K: Aw, thanks, pal! I think.

G: When we met, Shadowheart, your gaze seemed to linger in the distance on some unseen goal, some insubstantial purpose. But I notice now your gaze settles on something or someone much closer.

S: Is it that obvious?

G: Of course! There's nothing escapes a wizard's powers of observation.

A: I gave my return to Baldur's Gate a lot of thought. I never pictured this, though.

G: Ah, what did you have in mind? A quiet party? Toasting your own return with a few good friends?

A: Less "quiet party with friends", more "days of hedonistic debauchery", but otherwise… yes!

G: Hmm. Sounds like a recipe for disaster. But you know what? I'm learning to enjoy the taste of chaos. Count me in.

G: I've heard that in Baldur's Gate, "wizard" is also a term used for one who eschews their more, [hr-hrm] carnal desires. Is that true, Wyll?

W: Where are we going with this, Gale?

G: Oh, nowhere. Just think it's a rather cruel misnomer, not at all reflective of the glamor wizarding life affords.

A: So Gale, you laid with a goddess? You must have some sordid tales to tell.

G: Sordid? I lay with the Mother of Magic herself! What we had was… transcendent. Euphoric. Incandescent. Not sordid!

A: You actually made sleeping with a goddess sound boring. Hm. Incredible.

A: I am enjoying our walks together, aren't you, Gale?

G: Uhh… sure! In silence.

G: When you've loved a goddess as I have, people often think you less experienced in the way of romance.

S: She just lives on another plane! [heh] Only jesting. I'm in no position to judge, especially after what happened with Shar.

G: It's true for a time, I neglected the physical in favor of celestial euphoria. But our relationship was no less real for it.

G: I feel I've been rather hasty to judge you, Astarion. One heartbreak was quite enough for me, but to experience it as many times as you have… must change a person.

A: Thank you, Gale, but let us both hope that broken hearts are a thing of the past.

A: So, do you have loves waiting for you once this is all over?

G: You know what, that is not the easiest of questions for me to answer.

S: You mean just… waiting? Like a lovesick puppy?

M: Do you have elder siblings, wizard?

G: You're about to say something awful, aren't you?

M: In Menzoberranzan, after a house has two sons, every subsequent male-born child is slaughtered at birth, as it is useless, even for breeding. You have the aura of a third child about you.

G: The architect who built this must have been remarkable. Pity their vision didn't stand the test of time.

K: All's not lost. I mean, just look at this place!

G: You've quite the knack for finding the bright side of things, haven't you?

K: Hope keeps you going.

K: So Gale, got any book recommendations for me?

G: You can read?

K: Hmph. Yes, very funny. I can read. School put me off big, boring tomes. Sometimes I wonder what I'm missing.

G: Ah! Say no more. I'll find the perfect book for you. I might even lend it to you from my library in Waterdeep, ooh.

K: Ooh, something with magic please! And no devils!

G: Do you feel that? The darkness, pulling at the strands of the Weave?

K: Er, you'll still be able to do your wizard thing though, right?

G: Of course. Doesn't make the shadows less dangerous.

K: Joy.

M: Gale. Minsc worries you might send a fireball up his butt with all of this… stringy hair in your face.

G: Is that why you keep your head shaved? I assumed it was a custom of some sort.

M: Oh, no. Most warriors of [Rashinan] wear long battle braids weighed down with stone. Minsc can show you, when next we camp.

G: Thank you, but I'm more wizard than warrior. Not sure my scalp would stand up to such a plaiting.

A: Gods! We're not back, are we?

G: On the Nautiloid, no. This is a different nursery. Similar, but not identical. There's likely one in every colony.

A: I don't care what's in every mind flayer colony, Gale. Nobody does. Except you.

A: Ugh, another ruined temple full of foul-smelling beasts spoiling for a fight.

G: No mere temple. This was a monastery, devoted as much to study as to worship.

A: Oh, how ignorant of me. So it'll be free of foul-smelling beasts then?

G: Quite the opposite. Some monastic orders celebrated their pungency as proof of their devotion. "To think is to stink" was the motto of one ill-fated brotherhood near Arm. Oh! Huh, but you meant beasts of the life-threatening variety. Yes I'm sure it's teeming with those.

A: Moonlanterns to keep the curse back? Burly guards to fight off any monsters? I could get used to this place.

G: Don't get too comfortable. We shouldn't overstay our welcome in such a place.

A: No, of course! Why stay somewhere safe and comfortable when we could be in mortal peril?

H: Ah, Last Light Inn. Half aglow and lanterns lit. Just like a hundred years ago.

G: I imagine the vista was more idyllic back then. As were its patrons' chances of surviving the walk home.

H: [Grunt.] Still though, when you are expecting nothing but desolation, even a small glimmer of hope fills the heart. To think long ago, the druids feared this market down would grow into a city and threaten nature's realm… little did we realize what the true threat was.

G: Divination is a skill few can master. The rest of us must simply muddle along, content to view the past with a clarity the future rarely offers.

H: Perhaps I can yet turn hindsight into foresight, provided the curse is lifted. The better way for all. Whole generations were denied their chance to flourish… I must put this right, for them.

A: That orb seems powerful. What could it do once it's extracted?

G: Nothing good can come of it unless it is contained. Why.

A: It might be useful. Who knows?

G: I must tell you, Shadowheart, the bathing waters here leave much to be desired. The ablutions offered at the Temple of Beauty in Waterdeep were far superior - and, they have the most excellent soaps.

S: Hmm. I was wondering why you always smelled like a wealthy dowager.

A: From sweet woodland to stinking swamp. Can you do tricks like that, Gale?

G: Easiest thing in the world. Though I'd do it the other way around.

H: Brickwork and stonework. This place is far out of balance with nature, but the Oak Father will reclaim this all eventually.

G: Not too soon, I hope! I've a craving for a soft bed, a hot bath, and a large glass of Arabellan Dry. None of which I've ever found hidden under a log.

H: Hah, you may thrive, but what of other life? A city is no place for wild creatures.

G: Cities teem with life! Rats, pigeons, flies… they count no less, for all their more pestilent qualities.

G: The Society of brilliance has quite the reputation. Even Waterdhavian academics refer to their works from time to time.

S: They talk a great deal but do very little. Which may be for the best.

G: I take it you're not inclined to study the wonders of the Underdark?

S: Its inhabitants and cultures, maybe. Its fungi and cave slime, no thank you.

W: Ethel mentioned Netherese magic. What in blazes does that mean?

G: Magic from the fallen empire of Netheril. Ancient. Exceedingly dangerous. And quite unrivalled.

A: Wonderful. I'd hate to be destroyed by any common old magic.

G: Home and hearth, reduced to ruins. The shadow curse stole more than the light from this place.

H: That is why it must be stopped. Imagine a whole century of life and love denied the chance to ever take place.

G: A hidden shrine dedicated to the Moonmaiden herself. Even amidst this darkness, Selunites are stubborn enough to cling on.

K: Pretty beautiful, isn't it?

G: Look around you! Indulge your curiosity! Sorcerous Sundries is the finest purveyor of magical miscellany for miles around.

K: Where's the axes?

G: What they sell is far more precious than mere sword or shield! They sell knowledge! Ingenuity! The wisdom of mages past.

K: [yawns] Ugh, sounds like more your thing than mine.

K: Doing alright, Gale?

G: Oh, you know. Still alive and kicking despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of… darkness and decay.

K: I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.

G: It strikes me that, for a mind flayer colony, there are remarkably few mind flayers about the place.

K: Squiddies have gone to war, is my guess.

G: On the Absolute's behalf? Now there's an alliance I'd've been quite happy without.

K: Aw, man, adventuring is thirsty work.

G: There used to be a monastery in this region known for producing a wonderful ale.

K: Ah, that sounds like heaven. Wait. Used to?

G: Oh yes, long ruined, I'm afraid. No chance of a frothing pitcher awaiting us there, but still. At least your thirst for knowledge is quenced!

K: Ugh!

W: It might seem a bit ramshackle, but this place is a boastworthy bar.

G: A bar is only as good as its cellars. Which vintages can we expect on its racks?

W: Here, a bottle is judged more by its ability to crack heads than the quality of its contents.

G: Ah. If that's the main criteria then I shall reset my expectations accordingly. Water it is!

K: We're not taking a boat to Baldur's Gate, right?

G: And give the Absolute free reign to use us as target practice from the banks? I think not!

K: Ugh. My mum always said the Chionthat was unlucky.

G: I don't suppose you've any clue where we are in relation to Waterdeep?

K: From this distance between Elturel and Baldur's Gate, I'd say… a long way away.

G: Ah. That will make getting word to my mother rather tricky. No matter. What she doesn't know can't hurt her. Not at this distance, anyway.

G: Nothing like a brisk stroll through the forest to invigorate the spirit.

K: I was just thinking the same thing! But… poetically.

G: And without so much as a stirring from our tadpoles.

K: A girl could get used to this.

L: These children and their pets lack discipline. Were they githyanki, I'd recommend further training.

G: Not everyone approaches the raising of their young with such militaristic vigor.

L: That is the very purpose of training. To determine which children shall be warriors, and which are suited to other roles. As for the unruly animals, they would make for nutritious marching rations.

G: Mm, that's certainly one way to make them behave.

L: These flowers are quite vivid, not to mention pungent. Not to my liking.

G: Are there no flowers in [tunirath]?

L: In the city of death, the m'lar cultivate the fruiting bodies that sprout from the corpses of the slain.

G: Huh. I'd rather get them from my florist in Waterdeep, if it's all the same to you.

G: That zaith'isk you mentioned intrigues me. Care to tell me a bit more?

L: An intricate device crafted by m'lar, our most gifted artisans. I am sworn to say no more.

S: Why must the Dead Three be so obvious and ugly with their decor? Blood and bones, bones and blood… Pointy nonsense. At least Shar had some panache.

G: As did Mystra's home on Elysium. Her ribbed vaults and buttresses created a magic entirely of their own… not to mention their pleasure domes.

S: Hah! Pleasure dome.

G: It's a perfectly legitimate architectural feature!

G: The road to Baldur's Gate is a long one. Who knows how long it'll take these folks to get there on foot.

S: If they make it. They're slow, vulnerable. Half or more will die long before Basilisk Gate.

G: Doesn't seem to trouble you a jot.

S: What good would it do for me to be troubled? We can't save them all.

S: You seem to know a good deal about our condition, Gale.

G: Everything, really. Not to put too fine a point on it.

S: A humble specimen, aren't you?

G: On occasion.

G: They're not mutually exclusive! The weave is served best with a dash of eloquence.

G: There's magic here, but it's of a rancid, impure form. Nothing like the true Weave at all.

L: This is why I appreciate a sharp blade to a ball of fire or a bolt of lightning. The Weave is inconsistent, unruly.

G: The Weave is constant, but its users - anything but. We must be on our guard.

L: A githyanki warrior hardly needs to be told that.

L: What is this? This place makes me feel sad, melancholy.

G: Ah, so you're susceptible to the tragedy of a broken home. Maybe you've more in common with us weaker beings than you thought.

L: There's no call to be insulting.

G: Not to diminish our efforts, but. Was rather simple getting here in the end, wasn't it?

L: The obstacles ahead prove to be higher still, which will make the pleasure of overcoming them all the more potent. Imagine the glorious din of it all, the streaming banners, the charging knights. The piles of severed limbs and heads.

G: Mm, I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you.

G: Whatever I expected to find lurking in this cursed gloom, it certainly wasn't this. A glimmer of hope amidst the darkness.

S: That's one way of looking at it. You could also say it's a prime target, the one pocket of light in the gloom.

G: Oh pragmatism, thy name is Shadowheart. You're not wrong, though. Best we keep our sojourn here to a minimum.

G: So! Shadowheart. Such a name implies yours is a difficult heart to find.

S: It's not that hard to find. Perhaps any difficulty is more telling of you, Gale.

G: I always wondered what a vampire's lair would look like. Can't say I pictured it being quite this… theatrical.

L: I find it surprisingly similar to Queen Vlaakith's aesthetic.

G: That makes sense. She does have a flair for the dramatic.

G: No day, no night. It's as though time itself has abandoned this place. Similar to the Astral Plane in some ways, wouldn't you say, Lae'zel?

L: Mm, hardly. It is said that the Astral Plane is threaded with light and silver, life-giving and wondrous in all directions. Nothing like this dismal abyss.

G: Tell me, Lae'zel, what is it like on the Astral Plane? Your home realm intrigues me.

L: Githyanki lay their eggs on other planes. They cannot mature in the Astral.

L: A tadpole nursery, as on the Nautiloid.

G: Quite right, so long as the attempt won't leave us similarly dismantled.

L: Caution is commendable. Boldness is extraordinary. In this case, I recommend the latter.

W: You're an impressive fighter, Gale. You should consider a new name.

G: I take it you have some suggestions?

W: The Wizard Wonder. Or, how about… the Master of the Weave?

G: Tempting, but I think we already have the maximum number of theatrical titles.

G: Pigeons, gulls, sparrows. These streets would make a fine hunting ground for a tressym like Tara.

M: In the Underdark, we have packs of winged hounds to deal with vermin like your precious Tara.

G: Flying hounds? Come now, you're pulling my leg. Aren't you?

M: Yes, I am. It is the bats that would make a meal of her.

M: Umberlee. Her clerics possess a nasty streak as wide as her oceans.

G: So their reputation suggests, especially among the good folk of Waterdeep. I'm curious to learn how you fell foul of them.

M: Blasphemy, said the temple priestess, but Minsc says do not give horns to your statues if you do not wish the visitors to try and make them toot.

G: Yes. That would probably do it.

W: I admire your courage, Gale.

G: Thank you! Any particular reason?

W: Between the orb and the bug, you've got more than your fair share of unwelcome passengers.

G: What can I say? Mother always told me to be a gracious host.

G: My, my. Well I'll say this for the bonecloaks: they know their mushrooms.

S: Perhaps they should expand their horizons. Too much time spent obsessing over fungi seems to leave them a bit, well… like them.

G: Oh, a byproduct of their profession. Few can spend a lifetime inhaling fungal spores without turning out a bit… muddled between the years.

W: This is it, Gale. Today, we annihilate the heart of the Absolute's power.

G: Entirely unnecessary. Though, if they are so inclined, I might be convinced to share a stanza or two of my own for inspiration! Whatever outcome of what's just ahead… it will be the stuff of legends.

G: I knew you were a graceful man, Wyll, but I hear you're quite the dancer, too! I've been known to trip the light fantastic myself. Mine was a popular hand at the annual Blackstaff's Ball.

W: I'd have loved to have witnessed it, Gale. I wager you are as elegant on the dance floor as you are on the battlefield.

S: What did you mean before, Gale? "A woman with shadows for eyes", you said.

G: Merely that if the eyes are the mirror to the soul, yours have dark curtains across the mirror. No offense taken, I hope.

S: Not necessarily. I haven't made up my mind about you yet.

A: Ever heard of a vampire called Cazador, Wyll?

W: I don't think so, no. Why? Friend of yours?

G: He's patriarch of the Szarr family. Nasty fellow, if the histories are accurate.

A: I imagine they are.

L: The right of these prisoners to die in mortal combat was stolen from them.

G: Hardly the worst atrocity the Absolute's committed.

L: One of many, but by no means the least. To die properly is a matter of honor.

W: This is no aimless horde. The Absolute's forces are organized. What do you make of it, Gale?

G: All enemies have some chink in their armor, no matter how much they like to believe themselves invulnerable.

W: And if we don't find any clear weakness?

G: Then we hope our mutual strengths are enough to dominate them. Or! We die nobly in the attempt.

G: I was wondering about your queen, Vlaakith. What tales of her reach us are terrifying. I suppose that's not how you would describe her.

L: Vlaakith is unity. Fear and beauty, life and unlife… eyes like onyx, teeth like daggers. There is none more perfect.

S: Sounds vile. I assume the meaning of perfect was lost in translation.

G: Moonrise Towers lies ahead. We're nearing the heart of the Absolute, I'm certain of it.

W: Then let us push forward, head high, weapons in hand, and turn this tower to rubble.

G: Your confidence is encouraging, but a little premature. Let's keep our eyes on the task ahead- or eye, as the case may be.

W: Who's in charge of the mind flayers, Lae'zel? Is there a squid king or something?

L: No. Each ghaik is servant to an elder brain. No king unites elders, only their collective tyranny.

G: A mind flayer monarch! Imagine that. Such a thing could shatter worlds!

K: Ready to enter the belly of the beast?

G: Ugh. It's the stairs I'm dreading.

G: No sign of tentacles so far.

S: The same. Except for a knot of worry in my stomach that's in no rush to go away.

G: That I can relate to.

G: The masons here thought they were building something to last. How wrong they were.

W: Perhaps it's a blessing that none of them survived to see it fall to the shadows.

G: No need for such a grim assumption. Halsin helped many to escape these shadows before the town was consumed.

W: Then some masons were more blessed still, if they could put their talent to use elsewhere. Perhaps some of their work even graces Baldur's Gate.

S: You seemed quite forward with your compliments earlier. We'd only just met.

G: Seize the day, I say. More now than ever.

S: Careful you don't pull a muscle in this place.

S: Isn't it so that every time you speak as you cast a spell, you're endeavoring to call upon Mystra? I'm surprised she still listens to you.

G: She has no choice. She's sworn to hear all magic users. Even me. I'm sure she at least stuffs her fingers in her ears to muffle my invocations.

G: The history of the city itself is captured in the archives here. A fascinating resource.

W: I wonder what those archives will reveal about us a hundred years hence.

G: Only the most excellent and complimentary things. With some encouragement from us, of course.

G: Look at this place. Such horrors defy description.

S: Silence can be best. Give it a try sometime.

S: What if this creche doesn't work out, Lae'zel? What if your kin fail you?

L: If I can reach the creche, my kin will provide. Any failure will be mine alone.

S: If you say so. Just don't expect me to put all my eggs in the same basket.

G: That expression must sound curious to a githyanki ear, given the way they're birthed.

G: Gods. Who knew such a vile abscess lurked in the bedrock of this city? The very stone reeks of misery and despair.

J: Mm. A sad shrine kept by the lunatic and the lost. The last time I was here, I promised myself I would die beneath open sky. I have not changed my mind.

G: Nor should you. Far better to feel a cool breeze on your skin than whatever foul expirations blow through these halls.

A: Eh, can't say I love what they've done with the place.

G: Unsurprising, really. Fanatical cultists tend to care more for ambience then aesthetics.

A: Hrm. Reason enough to put them all to the sword, I say.

A: Heh, what's this? A clever little hideaway. A little too clever, if you ask me. Watch out for traps.

G: Not just clever. Rather ingenious! Somehow its construction keeps the shadow curse away.

S: The end must be near. No regrets, Gale? You may have been better off staying inside this boulder.

G: Unlikely. Had I stayed there much longer, the orb would have reduced it to rubble. Besides, think of all the fun I'd've missed out on.

S: Fun? Well, yes… I suppose we did manage to make the best of things.

[spectrum-core]

hi if you don’t mind me asking I’d love to hear more about serrated duo parallels?

Alright, just to make sure we are on the same page because I'm not sure if many people know who am I even talking about when I say serrated duo, I mean this pair of goofballs who I love very much.

Fuckass essay about them and how this thing even came to be (which is not what you asked for but it's still important I think) under the cut, as a warning though this is EXTREMELY long, i'm also writing it assuming the readers have played ruina to completion, have at least glanced at the ruina artbook once and are decently familiarized with the pjm universe and its terminology.

"But Spec", you may (and reasonably so) say, "these guys show up in different story tiers, one is a glorified ranged attack tutorial with a minor lore exposition attached to him and the other doesn't even have anything going on due to being a general reception, what the hell".

So let's get into this, more meticulously organized than some essays I've submitted for my uni classes because I care that much about these guys (don't be like me and do your uni projects, please).

Table of contents:

How the fuck did this even come to be 1.1. Me yapping about character dessign

Liwei as a character 2.1. The surface 2.2. Emotional internal nature 2.3. Resentment

Dong Hwan as a character (sorry can't separate him into many categories bc there's NOTHING THERE man i'm absolutely grasping for straws here i KNOW it, but please bear with me)

Summarizing parallels

If you don't feel like sitting through my attempts to contextualize how this ship came to be and me desperately grasping for straws, feel free to skip all the way down to part 4

1.- How the fuck did this even come to be

Honestly the whole thing started as a sleep deprivation shitpost I rolled with because yeah i like these two guys a lot (if you read that one post talking among other things about why I like liwei so much in the first place, the short reply also applies to dong hwan and... Yeag, the only thing that's better than one hot guy is two hot guys and so on).

There was also an interesting aspect about this because maybe it's just me but based of liwei's dialogue lines and keypage text he suggests not trusting, or even liking/admiring/looking up to, high graded fixers (despite feeling that he's supposed to). With an emphasis put into colors because, I mean, he fucking died because he met one at the wrong moment, but I feel it's a general thing he feels for grade 2s and above.

With this in mind, putting him to interact with a grade 1 is... at the very least it has the potential to put them into a funny mutual vitriol kind of dynamic with lw constantly thinking "what's the deal with this guy? does he expect me to praise him just for having a high grade? well, tough luck, i'm no bootlicker" and dh constantly thinking "what's wrong with this man? is he unable to recognize greatness even if it punched him in the face...? should i punch him in the face?", but it becomes far more interesting when you try to imagine (and, with dong hwan being an absolute background character we can only assume things of from extremely vague hints, pretty much all we can do about him is imagining) what made them both special enough for each of them to think "wait, hold on, i actually like this guy" of the other.

After the initial shitpost stage was over, we (the guy who came up with serrated duo while sleep deprived and me) started talking about why we liked both characters and we essentially concluded that, at least dessign wise, they are the same type of guy (ofc I also added a couple of characters I like and who fit the criteria to my post but this post isn't about them).

1.1.- Me yapping about character dessign

On top of that, if you pay attention specifically to liwei and dong hwan in there, you can notice that there's a pretty neat balance of common and contrasting themes in their dessigns, almost in a two sides of the same coin way, so here's a non exhaustive list:

both characters have a primarily monochrome/dark aesthetic going on, with their eyes being the primary colored element that stands out in their dessigns (yeah, you could say that dh has brown hair too but it's a dark shade of brown that doesn't catch the eye nearly as much as the bright-yet-deep shade of red of his eyes)

on top of that, liwei's eyes are blue while dong hwan's are red (i thought they were reddish brown at first but that's just an effect of the transparency, if you separate the sprite in it's different parts, you'll notice his eyes are actually red), which happens to link with a certain trope about two-sides-of-the-same-coin pairs... (will elaborate on this later trust me).

despite the previously mentioned similar monochrome aesthetic, there's a clear contrast between their styles and how they wear their clothes, with liwei having a much more "only informal if it's more practical that way" type of look, with a focus on practicality over trying to stand out too much (for the most part at least, he was dessigned with the idea of a cool guy in mind after all), while dong hwan is essentially wearing a business suit in the most fucked up way possible (really, what the fuck dong hwan), which of course makes his dessign incredibly memorable. To further elaborate on this (and to add details that don't really follow this formal until unpractical/informal AND unpractical pattern): -Liwei's clothes stay in similar shades of grey and black giving him a more uniform look, while dong hwan uses more contrasting shades in his clothing (despite wearing primarily black clothes, that light grey shirt absolutely stands out, and by extension he does) -Liwei wears long boots, while dong hwan wears regular shoes -Liwei wears a long coat, while dong hwan wears a short jacket -Liwei has a fully buttoned dress shirt with a tie, dong hwan wears his shirt unbuttoned, in an universe where clothes are basically like armor this is essentially him saying that he's confident that his opponents won't be able to hit him in the chest, or that even if they did he wouldn't get too hurt from it, and it's a dessign detail that absolutely stands out in an universe where most characters only show skin in their head, neck and hands at most, as we know since its stated in multiple keypages and cutscenes, if a character shows more skin than the absolutely bare minimum, then that means that A. they are inmensely strong, and B. they are even more confident in their capacities, with this being a tactic to intimidate potential enemies for many factions -Liwei wears fingerless gloves while dong hwan wears regular gloves, while at first glance this detail seems to subvert the pattern, let's be real here... have you tried to hold any object and using it properly with gloves? unless you're wearing latex gloves or something made of very thin fabric that shit's absurdly hard, of course i assume there's weird city tech involved in dh's gloves but at least that's my own personal impression of that particular contrast)

and going back to common but not really details: both characters have something noteworthy in their ears (this is most likely just a result of the characters being visible as chibis in game so the best way to give them memorable dessigns is by slapping somewhat unique stuff in their faces and heads BUT IM GRASPING FOR STRAWS HERE OK) with liwei's earpiece (which serves a practical function) and dong hwan's earrings (which look cool as hell, going in line with both characters' general priorities)

similarly, both have something in their opposite eyes, with liwei partially covering his right eye with his hair and dong hwan having the scar going through his left eye.

the right-left motif is actually very relevant in their dessigns. You see, most character sprites in ruina switch the hand in which they're holding their weapons for certain frames (or at least, this is not uncommon to see), either for rule of cool, clearer silhouettes or whatever reasons. However, in every frame in which liwei is visibly holding his knife, he holds it with his left hand (and when he uses his pistol he holds it with both hands), suggesting that he may be left handed. On the other hand (see what I did there?), dong hwan consistently holds his knife with his right hand, in every. single. frame. of his sprite, suggesting that he's right handed instead.

And of course, both of them have elements in their opposite legs too, with liwei having these two stupid fucking belts (affectionate) in his right leg while dong hwan has... whatever the fuck that thing is, in his left leg.

Of course I'm not here saying that they were given contrasting dessigns on purpose, but all these details end up making both of them looking really cool when put together, specially with how their dessigns emphatize their personal preferences and priorities, something I will elaborate upon in each character's section later.

2.- Liwei as a character

Liwei is one of my favorite pjm characters as a whole, yes i like him more than ayin, yes i like him more than angela, yes i like him more than carmen, yes i like him more than dante, yes i like him more than your favorite sephirah/patron librarian/sinner, no im not saying i think any of these characters is bad or poorly written and in fact i think pjm has made an amazing job with protagonists so far catching my interest even with characters i thought i wouldn't vibe with at all, but i have a thing for unremarkable background guys.

As you may have guessed, this means that i have a lot, and i mean A LOT to say about him.

This also means that I have a very specific interpretation of him, this interpretation, while clearly taking bases from what we can see of him in game, is entirely fanmade and i'm not trying to claim this is what anyone intended to convey with him, but it's what makes sense for me.

This interpretation also strays away from some other fan characterizations I've seen of him. So if you think he's actually, at his core, a serious, formal, emotionally detached and unbearably professional, even outside work hours, guy who's deeply dedicated to the honorable task of murder and who is in good terms with the shi association or holds them in high regard? sorry, but for me he's nothing like that.

2.1- The surface

"But Spec", you may say again, "he does act emotionally detached during his cutscene, he even says that people die all the time! are you sure you are actually reading this character right?"

Of course I'm not, I'm just saying that I'm reading him in a way that makes enough sense to me, but I do have reasons to believe that the serious and emotionally detached attitude is an akward mixture of a facade he puts up to be taken seriously by others and an incredibly unhealthy coping mechanism, so let's start by analyzing his artbook profile...

Wait a minute, is that..?

Ok, I'll see myself out and continue writing the actual character analysis this is what people are here for.

Anyway, going back to the character profile, you may be inclined to see it and assume "well, that actually just proves that he's a serious and formal dude" at first, until you realize that artbook profiles, due to their in-universe explaination being that they were compilled by roland and angela from the information they could take out of the guests' books, are most likely to be about what the guests perceive themselves as/would say to describe themselves rather than what they actually are when looked at from an outsider's perspective. Further proof of the artbook profiles being subjective comes from how the profiles change almost erratically for distortions and ego users, with people in the middle of both states simply not knowing how to describe themselves, the fact that we lack any information about the agents of the head as they were never booked, or how characters such as tomerry have...

This, which I mean, it's very clear that's just tomerry talking about themselves.

Now, liwei's personality traits, or at least what he'd use to describe himself, are "Meticulous, Efficient, and Sharp". We know that he has to be efficient at the very least, considering the nature of his job and guns in universe, the same thing goes for meticulous, we can assume he wants to do things the right away so that he gets paid, sharp as a personality descriptor can take multiple meanings and frankly i don't know which was the original korean word used to describe him so i can't tell which is the right one but most of them seem pretty accurate, at least when looking at him from a surface perspective.

To be honest, I don't think any of the traits mentioned there is precisely wrong, I simply don't think that they are the main or core ones, but they are the traits liwei tries to show, at least.

Another interesting detail is that all full stop fixer artbook profiles have food related items for the likes and and dislikes sections, except for stephan disliking dangerous jobs.

Not particularly noteworthy for this category in particular but still tangentially linked to a point that I believe is also a core characteristic of all three full stop fixers and that is key to understand all three of them, their dynamics and the choices they make during their reception: they are Poor As Shit, because guns and bullets are expensive of course, we also get to see this in stephan's obssesive fixation in money (come on nobody actually checks their bank account as a hobby... right, guys?), and of course this ties in with wanting to be seen as someone serious and professional people will trust with their money AND with the idea of them having the need to maximize efficiency to... well... you... you know... not end up even worse than they actually are.

2.2- Emotional internal nature

Alright, and here we dwell into the actually spicy part of the essay, at least for liwei's character: the moments in which the mask of a professional and emotionally detached guy cracks and he shows his more emotional, and mostly caring, side. This is focused in the way in which he treats stephan and tamaki (compared with how several other faction leaders treat their underlings).

While I should probably need to read all the dialogue in the game to make sure this is a particularly notorious detail, something that inmediately caught my attention is... the fact that liwei never uses a single honorific when refering to other people, neither he's bothered by stephan's more informal speech and the fact that he doesn't refer to him by any honorific or title either (sure, you could say this is because they were in a life or death situation but also y'know, it says something about you that the people below you don't feel the need to use formalities when talking to you), the only person he calls by title instead of first name is... well, the blue reverb, whose real name we can assume he didn't know, with also him being someone perfectly capable of killing not only him but the guys standing beside him as well, you'd want to be as respectful as possible when talking to a guy like that and trying to negotiate.

(even then he doesnt use any sort of honorific towards him, at least in the english translation of the text, he simply refers to him by title)

He neither uses any title or honorific when talking to angela, despite keeping a formal/respectful attitude, i honestly believe that he is genuinely formal and respectful but... you know, that's not the beginning and end of who he is.

Of course, this isn't a major point, but I think it's worth mentioning considering how important honorifics can be to establish the speaker's relationship with the people a message is directed to, they can be used to distance oneself from others. So in a way it could be seen as him putting himself at an "equal" position relative to stephan and tamaki, as opposed to trying to assert that he's their superior (at least in the context of the mission they were working in, since his title is merely fixer, not operator, president, director or anything implying some form of leadership on his end).

Another extremely important detail is his inmediate first reaction once argalia shows up and ruins their plan is... not coming up with a plan b, not trying to fight him in any way, not doing anything about trying to save what little money they can, he quite literally tells stephan "forget about money, we need to survive now".

His initial reaction is directly just yelling at his team to run away, and this stays consistent once he:

Notices that stephan and tamaki are beginning to argue over the future of their mission and how much money they lost.

Realizes that they can't outrun argalia as long as they're wielding their heavy (and again, extremely expensive) equipment. This says a lot as it shows that he cares enough for the people under his care to let the office go bankrupt if it means they can live.

Needless to say, stephan and tamaki refuse to do so and while he clearly isn't precisely happy about the inevitable confrontation with argalia, he doesn't argue about this, he does understand their concern about money, he's not like the other authority figures who will ignore their underlings' concerns at best and ditch them once they outlive their usefulness at worst (at least, that's what i imagine he thinks as he makes these choices).

Not to mention, once they are in a, if only slightly, safer situation in the library, his inmediate response is trying to comfort stephan and tamaki, things dont look good but theyre at least alive, for now.

And there's this line which... doesn't seem to fit at first glance with the idea of him wanting his office to survive at all costs... right?

That is until you realize that he says that line during yet another argument between stephan and tamaki, as an attempt to get them both to calm down, this could also fit in with him trying to keep or restore the cynical, stoic and serious act, but then again we get to see his more emotional and sincere side once he:

Gets killed, quite literally saying that he didn't want to die yet, at least to me this line alone is enough to pretty much confirm that he didn't really mean it when saying that trying to delay their deaths was pointless, but if you need more, he also acts against that same line when he...

Sees his allies die, and inmediately starts freaking out.

Wins the reception, in which case his inmediate first concern is, again, not money, lost ammunition or anything, but rather if stephan and tamaki are okay and if they will be safe once they return.

I don't think that line was him fully lying though, it does say something about him that makes enough sense to me and fits with the rest of the characterization: that his cynism runs much, much deeper than stephan's.

Tl;dr he is extremely caring and emotional deep inside, and even though he tries to suppress that side of himself it always finds a way to show itself, I feel like in other contexts this makes him prone to emotional outbursts and generally make him an unpleasant person to be around... save for people who are already familiar with his personality quirks and the fact that he is Like That.

2.3- Resentment

Of course, this dissonance between the person he tries to pretend to be to fit in/keep his job and the person he actually is made him grow a pretty strong disliking of... well, everything he considers related to the fact that he has to act like that to get enough money to feed the people in his office.

I also feel like he feels genuine guilt over the fact that his job is essentially just glorified murder, I have no base for this other than the more detached way in which he refers to the church of gears, it almost feels like hes forcing himself to not care because its them or him and his office, and that he has genuine self-hating tendencies because of it (which he also uses his stoic act to hide, he doesn't want to worry his office and become a burden to them, after all), in a way he may be trying to overcompensate by being nice to his office to feel like there's people he can help/protect.

But this hatred towards himself also manifests in the form of hatred towards anything he can blame over him being the way he is and working the job he has.

As I said before, I don't think liwei likes colors, or most high grade fixers for that matter, you may also extend this to figures of authority, influential organizations or even the city's society as a whole (and honestly? i do personally, i don't think he's actually capable of forming any particularly healthy bond with people outside his office because of this, and even then saying that the relationships he has with his office are healthy is... generous to put it softly, this is not to say that he secretly hates the other people in the office, but rather that he fears that they may secretly hate him, because he's the highest graded member of the office, he hates people sitting above him so it only makes sense that people below him hate him for being above them, right?), and of course I'm not saying this because I'm projecting or because I think it's cool and edgy and sad but I actually have bases for this from what I can see in the game.

The first example of him not trusting high grade fixers AND influential organizations being one of the very first things he says when being introduced: that having an important person, from an important organization, belonging to an important section of said organization, approach him and give him a request was shady as fuck.

And he turned out to be right, as Yujin was planning for him and his office to get sent to the library and die there so she could read their books and find some passage saying shit like "well we were found by the blue fucking reverb and our only choice was to come here and die even though we were royally fucked either way life sucks see you all in hell my final message 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕" so she could use that on her favor.

In this topic too, I'm personally firmly opposed to the idea of full-stop office being affiliated to the shi association and this is the hill i'm willing to die on, but I digress.

We see this same resentment on an even deeper level in his keypage where he talks about colors (and we can assume this view extends to other high graded fixers, and to a lesser extent to the hana association), he doesn't sound like he wants to become a color, he doesn't sound like he even likes the concept of colors being a thing that exists in the first place.

The most important lines from these fragments to me being the following:

"A color is the dream [...] of all fixers who wish for freedom.", freedom is a VERY relevant concept in project moon and ruina makes a very clear point about how nobody is free in the city, roland says it, most plot relevant guests say it, some patron librarians say it too... a huge part of the story is how angela comes to terms to the fact that turning human wont grant her freedom and how she ultimately becomes free by embracing her nature as a machine (so free indeed that the head decides to kick her and the entire library out of the city, not only shes a machine that acts like a human, which is already a major city wide taboo, she made a choice that no human in the city should ever make). Essentially, liwei seems to see colors (and im assuming that by extension high graded fixers) as the ultimate example of an impossible aspirational class (think of these "self made" enterpreurs who received extremely generous financial support from their rich parents to start massive companies as the closest irl equivalent, except that obviously not the same, i will elaborate more on this later).

"They put forward the colors as great and successful people that other fixers will look up to. They dream of earning wealth and fame, and to be free like them one day." Why would he be talking in third person here if he too admired colors, or wanted to be like them, or thought that were free in any way? Also that separation between money and fame (something that colors objectively do have since they can afford exclusive high tech weapons and armor) with freedom (something that is debatable, but liwei seems to assume colors don't have) feels too much like a deliberate choice to further push towards that point of him seeing colors as not only an impossible goal to achieve for the average fixer but also that the ideal of a color as someone who is free is something impossible to achieve even if one were to become a color.

"Colors are assigned by the 'Hana Association'. [...] The title of a color is forcibly given to fixers who qualify essentially. Can a fixer be truly happy with freedom that was forcefully handed to them?" This particular fragment, specially the last sentence, is absolutely key for Liwei's characterization, and the final and most important part of him saying "wait, no, colors aren't free, because nobody is" to me. It is also worth noting that this fragment can be read in multiple ways, all of them are important and accurate for his characterization.

He thinks that the responsability and risks that come with being handed the title of a color are far greater than the prestige that comes with the title, can you really say that someone who cant afford to decline requests due to being contacted by the most important organizations in the city, whose closest friends or family WILL be regularly targetted by rivals either to extort them for money or just try to attack them to the point in which most high graded fixers abandon any personal attachment to others, who will have to see the horrible things that happen in the city in an almost day-to-day basis and will likely have to do even worse things in the name of corporate interests is free? Can you really call it freedom if you can't refuse it? Essentially he is saying "actually every single aspect of being a color is terrible and to make matters worse that life is forced on them after they go through extreme miseries in the hopes for a better life but all they get is more of the same if not even worse, they aren't free and shouldn't be refered to as such."

He thinks that in order to become a color (or any highly graded fixer, really), you must essentially lose yourself, which is to say abandoning all friendships or familiar bonds, only keeping shallow interactions with people, desensitizing themselves to whatever horrifying shit they may have to see, abandon all sense of morality as they never know what their next request will be and "im sorry but i dont do xyz, it does against my personal morals" isnt an argument that will work in a place like the city, this also fits into the whole "actually having a much more chaotic emotional side he's trying his absolute hardest to supress but failing" theme mentioned in point 2.2., someone who is so deeply emotional and whose actions are ultimately defined by what is the most likely to keep the people around him alive is obviously not going to like the idea of keeping his distance to them, or to dispose of people with lower grades than him because they were supposed to be expendables anyway.

I don't remember the exact quote and i dont feel like looking for it but in one of gebura's cutscene she claims that all power in the city only serves to strike those below but never up. You have to climb to get stronger and then you'll only be able to assert dominance (through violence) over people weaker than you are, and she grew to dislike this, as she wanted to protect others but was never able to do so because of how the city was dessigned.

Of course, liwei reached the same conclusion but he took the much simpler but much more unhealthy approach of assuming "well, if things are like that, then that must mean that everyone in a position of power (over me) must be responsible for this".

Of course this also comes with the side effect of him being as caring for the rest of the office as he can because he doesn't want to be like other figures of authority as i mentioned in point 2.2, but thats not to mean that things are all fine in the office, i feel like there are several moments in which he internally curses his position of authority but not quite (bc i don't think he's actually The Big Guy In Charge of the office, really), most obviously the aforementioned moment in which he yells at tamaki and stephan to drop their guns so they can run away and live when they clearly dont want to, i feel like at moments like that he feels like they only do things because he tells them to and they "can't argue" (except that they do, fortunately for him the enviroment in the office is healthy enough for the rest of full stops to not abuse this fact, but the "what if"s are absolutely eating him from the inside). As ironic as it sounds his earnest desire to not be Like The Others is the same thing stopping him from being the perfect and efficient leader he wishes to be, and he probably isn't sure of which thing he values more than the other (it's staying true to his own morals and keeping the people under him safe).

However, there's a key detail here that's worth noting: liwei has a tendency to treat everyone else as equals, sure he is formal and respectful when doing so (pressumably even when talking to people he'd rather never interact with if we assume his conversation with argalia was actually how he is and not him just walking on eggshells to not get killed) but he doesn't bother trying to make a clear distinction of who is above and below him, no matter what their title and rank may be, and for people who are used to being looked up to by everyone else this will be seen this as him insulting them in some way, it may come from a sincere desire of him to come off as insulting while not breaking any (major) social convention in an act of malicious compliance or just the type of person he is, that's up to you to determine.

"But how the hell does any of this relate to dong hwan?" we'll get there right now.

3.- Dong Hwan as a character

This is kinda... the hardest point to talk about, because sure I can yap all I want about him but... it's hard to without going "Source: I made it up" too much.

So, looking at his combat sprites you may notice one thing: he is unbelievably hot for real what the hell he has an incredibly smug aura, most people who care about him to some extent i've seen tend to depict him as a very prideful person, and honestly i dont think differently either.

HOWEVER, i feel like despite this he's still a levelheaded guy who can aknowledge his own flaws. On top of that, i think he's a pretty charismatic guy and he's capable of noticing other people's strenghts, and he'll let people know about their own strenghts too.

Also, to contrast with his smug and cheerful exterior, his combat lines depict him as someone very serious when at work, he doesn't even react emotionally to getting killed.

His first "on kill" line is also particularly interesting, as it shows that he prefers to work on his own (unlike everyone's favorite monochrome moody boy), which makes sense considering that he comes alone to the library when you fight him, he may belong to a one-man office (which is the closest a fixer can do to be fully independent, as far as we are aware).

His keypage story also fits this more serious and analytical personality but not much of it is particularly noteworthy from a character analysis perspective, it doesn't say much that you couldn't notice from his combat lines anyway.

Another important factor to me and to contrast him to liwei is... okay, this may be the fact that he's a solo fight and he is, pressumably, an independent fixer, so he's not titled as a member of a particular organization, instead his title (for him, his reception, his keypage and his book) is "dong hwan, the grade 1 fixer", which i mean, again, is most likely just so we dont fight this guy with zero context on who he is and what hes even doing in the library in his own is he stupid? but i like to imagine that the in universe explaination is that he has tied his perception of himself and his own self worth to his grade, to the point in which using both his name and grade is what comes naturally to him when introducing himself, since books are essentially physical manifestations of the soul, then it just makes sense then that his book will give both his name and grade the same importance. This may come from a need to compensate for something else and i actually like to imagine that's the case because it adds yet another layer of parallels with liwei (source: trust me).

Another point is... remember that I mentioned how food was a very consistent thing in the full stops' likes and dislikes sections in the artbook? this point is also not relevant but dong hwan is frequently assumed to be the owner of that pub that shows up at that short side story about roland and angelica which i never watched because i Literally Can Not Care about angelica sorry, but, hey, it's a cute detail, i think he should cook for the full stops.

I feel like there's something to be said about dh's red eyes because in pjm when a character has red eyes you know that means one thing: they will be a big deal, but dong hwan, other than looking incredibly fucking cool and carrying me through the snow queen suppression (FUCK THE SNOW QUEEN ALL MY HOMIES HATE SNOW QUEEN) and star of the city tier 1 (thank you dong hwan i love you dong hwan)… he is rather unremarkable on the grand scheme of things, he's a general reception so you don't even need to defeat him to beat the game, and he only serves to give us some insight on who the fuck was the vermillion cross, and even then he does a terrible job at explaining who he was other than "well, he was a guy i guess" and honestly, the relevance of both liwei and dong hwan is ALSO an important factor in these parallels, as with one being the guy who introduces the concept of colors and the other being the guy who introduces one particular color fixer by casually mentioning being friends with him, both feel like characters who would be much more narratively important in any other story, but here they... aren't.

4.- Summarizing Parallels

Aka the part you may want to skip to if you don't care about me analyzing characters with little background info about them.

So, basically a list of personality (and background, i guess) traits they have in common and how they're different:

Both characters are putting some sort of facade, with liwei trying to act serious and stoic so he's taken seriously while dong hwan... i dont think he even knows what the facade he's putting even is, he's been putting an act for so long that his mask became his true self

In both characters' cases, the first impression they give isn't really the kind of person they truly are (in lw's case this is a deliberate choice and in dh's case i assume that's just the type of person he is), HOWEVER, while liwei acts serious and analytical (and to some extent he is), his true self is far more emotional and prone to form deep bonds with people, while dong hwan has a more passionate, smug and cheerful external attitude but he's much more serious and levelheaded deep down

Both characters have different, conflicting views about their grades, however these differences ultimately lead to both of them being able to treat each other as equals, or as close to that as possible in the city, i feel like liwei can see dong hwan as someone of worth so to speak for reasons unrelated to his grade, while dong hwan does see liwei as a good person (well, good is a subjective term specially in a place like the city) and far better at teamwork than most people in the city, in a way both value something in the other that the other never stopped to consider "hey this is actually a good thing i have"

Both characters are (pressumably?) trying to compensate over something, with liwei putting his professional and formal act to compensate for his sentimental self while dong hwan puts a strong emphasis on his high grade for... who knows, really, i just like this parallel being there because i think it adds a lot

Both have problems forming relationships, with liwei being a generally unpleasant person but being capable of forming deep, meaningful relationships with the people capable of seeing through it, while dong hwan is a charismatic guy liked by almost everyone he's met, but whose relationships tend to be shallow

Not really a personality thing but both characters have a thing for being remarkably unremarkable guys, dong hwan is obviously forgotten by most ruina playes because he's a general reception and the biggest impression liwei leaves in most players is "OH SHIT HE HAS A GUN", even though both are pretty intentionally dessigned with the intention of making them look cool however ive very rarely come across full stop or liwei fans (by which i mean people who like them particularly instead of "actually the entire pjm cast is cool and that includes them) and dong hwan fans are.... yeah, i think ive met like, 4 of them at most (thanks guys i owe you my life)

Something about their combat styles including their passives, liwei's only visible passive is called Concentration and gives him extra strenght for the first turn of a fight, after which he relies in the fact that his attacks weaken the enemy, so he comes off as the sort of guy who prefers to keep his distance and figure out the opponent's weak spot(s) (something he canonically is good at doing) to keep an upper hand at combat, however despite this he's still lacking in both strenght and technique, being only a grade 4 (which i mean let's be real the grades go from 9 to 1 and i feel like a majority of fixers are in the lower grades so he's still pretty much above average but he isnt doing all the cool shit you see the stronger characters do, because that's not the kind of character he is). On the other hand dong hwan's passives have much more cooler sounding names (Fervor, Carver of Scars, Toughness...), all of them focused on either inflicting bleed (status ailment that gradually makes the opponent lose hp)/buffing him against enemies with bleed or buffing him as he gains emotion levels, and his focus is just inflicting bleed like crazy, as well as delivering harder blows against people with bleed, prioritizing raw damage over strategy (but likely being able to figure out an opponent's weaknesses as well, brute strenght alone are most likely not enough to get you far in a world where the powerful people are INSANELY strong bc physical enhancements are commonplace)

I feel like in a way both admire each other, liwei admires dong hwan's capacity to keep a cool head at all times when at work and not letting his feelings have too much weight over his desicions, but dong hwan admires how honest liwei is about himself as well as his capacity to work in a team taking in consideration what will be best for the team as a whole even if it's perjudicial for him in particular.

In Conclusion

Your honor, two of them

[embracing-the-ineffable]

Twenty Questions

Thanks for the tags, @eybefioro, @goodoldfashionednightingale, and @hoarder-of-dragons! I picked my favorites from the posts you tagged me on, and added a few more of my own:

Currently consuming: Good Omens everything

Currently consuming: Good Omens everything (it's worth repeating!)

First ship: I'm not sure. I think I was introduced to the concept of ships through Thomas Sanders' Sanders Sides

Do you have kids? Yes, birth and foster 🥰

What sports do you play/have you played? Dance, horseback riding, and martial arts

Are you more likely to be sincere or sarcastic? Sincere

How many tabs are open on your browser? Over 3,000, because Session Buddy doesn't work on mobile yet 😅

What's your favourite colour? There's no way I can choose! I love the play of different colors with one another. I tend to wear a lot of purple, burgundy, and teal jewel tones, especially in the autumn and winter.

Favorite drink: Hot cocoa with marshmallows and herbal tea for the winter

Last movie: Nothing Lasts Forever and Pride and Prejudice (Those of you as obsessed with Good Omens as I am might recognize a theme here 🤩 )

Scary movies or happy endings? Feel good media with happy endings, please! The world is already full of too many sad and awful things.

When was the last time you cried? I don't remember, but it was probably induced by sleep deprivation and stress. Or really big feelings.

Any talents? Photography! And I love to nurture things. Sometimes that means cooking for loved ones, or growing a jungle of plants in my living room, or organizing gatherings for an extended circle of friends and chosen family

Talent you wish you had? Drawing

What are your hobbies? Right now, the only honest answer is Good Omens 😅

Do you have any pets? Yes! I've shared my life with a whole zoo full of cats, dogs, fish, and reptiles, including an adventure cat, a part-bear part-muppet therapy dog, and a tegu lizard that I trained to walk on a leash and harness.

Super power you wish you had? Reading minds

Dream job? I don't know! I've had so many, and they've all been valuable stepping stones on the path of my life. The jobs where I get to teach and help people - especially kids - are my favorites.

Dream vacation? Seeing the northern lights in person is high on my list. Also, a wildlife photo safari in Africa.

How would you change the world if you could? (Or, what are you passionate about?) I would teach everyone the skills of DBT (helpful for absolutely everyone who has ever had a strong feeling or a connection to another person) and then I would give everyone universal healthcare and a universal basic income with an aim to eliminating poverty, especially among children, plus all the other long term benefits that would stem from that. (Read more from WaPo about UBI here if you're interested.)

Currently working on: Solving the ineffable mystery with the lovely people at the @ineffable-detective-agency, and finishing a new fanfic for the Good Omens Minisode Minibang. Hopefully I'll be ready to post that later this weekend!

No-pressure tags for a few mutuals who might be into tag games, and an open invitation to everyone else!

@gallup24 @averywiseanimatedcat @procrastiel @commonmexicanname @crowleybrekkers @stumblingoverchaos @dunkthebiscuit @red-sky-in-mourning @im-not-a-virgo-im-a-lesbo @tragic-cosmic-magic @crowleybrekkers @lil-king-trash-mouth @celticseawych @phoen1xr0se @lemonic-whimssyy @ineffably-poetic @red-sky-in-mourning @weasleywrinkles

[sequinsmile-x]

Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Forty Four

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Hi friends!

First off, thank you SO much for the response to Surrender. Seeing all the comments and little emails from Ao3 made my heart so freaking happy <3 I am so so pleased you enjoyed it.

I hope you like this chapter of SGW <3

Please do let me know what you think!

-x-

Words: 3.8k

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List and will be updated as we go along.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily yawns as she paces the living room, her hand rhythmically patting Lily’s back through the baby wrap she was snuggled up in. 

Lily loved being held. It was something that became clear the day she born, fussing and squawking as only a newborn could whenever she woke up to find she was in the bassinet. It was something that had continued throughout the first two weeks of her life, and even though it meant Emily was very sleep-deprived since she was always their daughter’s first choice, still crying sometimes when Aaron was the one to get up with her, she couldn’t deny that she loved it. Something about holding her little girl close, of hours melting into days as she did so, that felt incredibly special. 

She knew this phase wouldn’t last forever, no matter how much it felt like it might in the moment sometimes. That, before she knew it, she’d be back at work. Her initial plan had only been to take the three months of maternity leave that she’d organised with Aaron and Strauss, but now she would be spending at least half of that time recovering from surgery, her ability to do just about anything other than carry her baby restricted, she was considering asking for a little more time. The practicalities were at the forefront of her mind, and certainly would be the official reason she’d use in her request, even though she knew it was more to do with the fact she was already unable to bear the thought of being away from her baby for hours at a time. 

She hears her phone ring from where she’d left it on the coffee table, the vibration of it echoing almost too loudly in the living room. She curses under her breath, fearing the sound will wake up Lily, and picks it up quickly, smiling when she sees her husband’s name on the screen. She answers quickly, making sure she keeps her voice low when she speaks, not wanting to disturb the baby pressed up against her chest. 

“Hi honey,” she says, continuing her pacing of the living room, “Are you on the way home?” 

“Not yet sweetheart,” he replies, an edge to his voice she’s sure she’d be able to place if she’d more sleep in the last couple of days, “How are my girls doing?” 

“I’m okay, tired but what’s new?” She says, chuckling as she runs her hand up and down the culprit of her sleep deprivation’s back, “Lil is fast asleep after eating. She loves that wrap Pen got us,” Emily says, looking down at Lily, smiling at the sight of her daughter fast asleep, her cheek squished against her chest, “Seems that as long as she’s got her face pressed into my boobs she’s happy,” she kisses the top of the baby’s head, “Like father, like daughter I guess.” 

She laughs at her own joke, and she hears Aaron’s laugh come down the phone, but it isn’t his usual one. It’s not the almost goofy sound she’d fallen in love with, it’s tight. Forced. And it sets her on edge. She runs her hand up and down Lily’s back and she blows out a steady breath. 

“Aaron, honey, what’s wrong?” 

She hears him sigh, and she can picture him pinching the bridge of his nose, deep lines carved into his forehead, appearing like they always did when he was stressed. 

“I…,” he pauses, swallowing thickly, “I don’t know how to tell you this. And I really wish I wasn’t having to tell you over the phone.” 

She tops pacing, frozen in place on the floor as worst-case scenarios overwhelm her, forcing her breath to catch in her chest, “Is…is someone hurt? I thought the team hadn’t been sent anywhere today-”

“Em, no it’s nothing like that,” he says, cutting her off, stopping her from spiralling any further, “It’s…it’s about your mother.” 

Whatever she’d been expecting him to say, it hadn’t been that. For a moment, everything stops around her, everything slowing down in the quiet house, even the sound of the white noise machine that was always seemingly on these days disappearing. The only thing that keeps her grounded is the slight weight of Lily against her chest, the feeling of her breathing. Emily swallows thickly and places her hand on her daughter's back before she carefully lowers them down onto the couch.

“Sweetheart?” 

She clears her throat, the edge of concern in her husband’s voice enough to bring her back to herself. “Yeah, I’m here. Sorry.” 

“You have nothing to apologise for, baby,” he assures her, pausing for a moment that feels like an eternity, “Do you want me to tell you what’s happened?” 

She loves him for giving her the choice, as if she had any other option than to know what was happening. She knows if he hadn’t had to call he wouldn’t have. That a part of him would have considered not telling her at all, but one of the very foundations of their relationship was honesty and it always had been, long before they got together. 

“Yeah,” she answers, looking down at Lily, relieved she’s still fast asleep, finding comfort in her sweet face, “Is she hurt?” 

“No,” he says quickly, “No she’s okay. But…I got a call from a cop based downtown. She was pulled over and had clearly been drinking when they spoke to her.” 

Emily blows out a steady breath and closes her eyes, and tears immediately flood them. When she reopens them tears spill past her lashline. She wipes them away quickly, not wanting them to fall onto Lily’s head, for any of this to touch her. 

“She was driving?” Emily asks, unsure why that is the first thought to come to her. Elizabeth rarely, if ever, drove herself anywhere, so this seemed even more needless. Even more reckless. And it makes Emily’s heart seize in her chest, disappointment and hurt she’d told herself she wouldn’t allow herself to feel over her mother’s actions spreading through her like fire. Burning her from the inside out. 

“She was,” Aaron confirms, “She gave my name as a contact. I’m assuming it’s because I’m law enforcement and she knows I outrank them.” 

Emily scoffs, the sound bitter as it escapes, leaving a foul taste in her mouth, “Well, even when she’s been drinking she’s still always been good at what she does,” she blows out a shaky breath and wipes more tears from her cheeks, “Has she been charged with anything?” 

“No,” Aaron answers, and Emily isn’t sure what to make of the disappointment she feels, filing the feeling away for later, “I spoke to the cop and because it’s a first offence, and because of who she is, they are letting it slide.”

“That’s so…very DC,” she says, leaning down to kiss her daughter’s head, breathing in the scent of her, letting the comfort it always brought, the sense of home try to settle her. “You’re going to go pick her up, right?” She asks, his silence the only answer she needs, the reason she knows he’s called instead of coming home to tell her this, “I’ll meet you there.”

Aaron sighs again, as if he’d been expecting that response, “Em…you can’t drive yet. And I know you don’t want one of Lily’s first outings to be to a police station, no matter how much we joke about the family business.”

She chokes out a laugh, nodding even though he couldn’t see her, “I know. You’re right. You’ll be home as soon as you can be, right?” 

“You know I will,” he says, his voice laced with guilt he shouldn’t feel, “I’m so sorry about this, sweetheart.” 

“It’s not your fault,” she replies, her voice shaking slightly, “It’s just hers.” She feels Lily start to shift against her, and she looks down to see dark eyes looking up at her, “Can you…can you not tell her about Lily?” She asks, finding her usual desire to show her daughter off nowhere to be found, “You can tell her she’s here but please don’t say anything else. I…”

She isn’t sure how to say it, how to explain that her mother even being aware of her daughter’s name felt like something she didn’t want to share. An insight into her life she didn’t want to give her, a breaking of her own rules that she’d set so many months ago. 

“I get it,” he says, his voice soft, soothing her even though he wasn’t with her, “I won’t tell her anything I don’t think you’ll be comfortable with.”

She sighs, feeling slight relief this time, “Thank you. I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he replies, and she hears shuffling on the other end as if he was moving, determined to do what he had to as quickly as he could so he could get back to her, “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

She strokes a finger down Lily’s cheek, smiling at the softness of her skin, more determined than ever that she was doing the right thing. “Okay.” 

___

Calling Emily had been the first thing he did, but the very last thing he’d wanted to do. 

For a moment, a very brief one, he’d considered not telling her. Thoughts he couldn’t quite shake off telling him that he should go get Elizabeth, drop her home and then never tell his wife, not wanting to cause the upset this undoubtedly would, but he knows he can’t do that. Honesty was important to them both, and even though the very last thing he wanted to do was hurt Emily, he knew this was best coming from him. 

When he gets to the police station it doesn’t take long for the police officers there to hand Elizabeth over to him. Familiar looks of dismay on their faces that she always managed to draw out of everyone she wished to, something that in other circumstances he’s sure would make him laugh. 

He doesn’t miss how she stares at his left hand as he shakes the hand of the cop who’d called him, her eyes fixed on the wedding ring he hadn’t been wearing the last time they saw each other. 

It felt like a different lifetime now. Emily’s pregnancy still early on enough that she was only showing a little, Lily safely tucked up inside of her, her hormones all over the place as she made the decision to cut her mother off. Putting her baby, the one she was still months away from meeting at the time, ahead of everything else. A feat Elizabeth had seemingly never been able to manage. 

They walk in silence to the car, Aaron’s fists clenched at his sides as he watches Elizabeth’s eyes linger on the car seat in the back before she climbs into the passenger side. Once he’s driving, the police station disappearing in the rearview mirror, she finally speaks to him, acknowledging him for the first time.

“Thank you for picking me up.” 

He grunts, clutching the steering wheel tight enough for a moment that his knuckles go white, “I didn’t do it for you.” 

She clears her throat, the silence in the car awkward, cloying. Thick in his throat in a way that makes him swallow thickly. 

“So…you really did get married.” 

He looks down at his hand, the band that matched Emily’s shining up at him, before he looks back at the road, “We did,” he replies, curiosity that had lingered in his belly since he’d been called finally winning out, “How did you know that?” He looks at her firefly and their eyes meet, and he sees the curiosity winning out, “The cop said you called me your son-in-law.” 

“My ex-husband told me,” she replies, “Apparently Emily has a habit of kicking her parents out of her life,” she adds wryly. 

The anger he feels flashes through him, hot and sharp as he clenches his teeth, his words forced out through them, “You don’t get to speak about her like that,” he says, holding the steering wheel so tightly he’s surprised he doesn’t snap it, “You never get to speak about her like that.” 

If Elizabeth has an issue with that she doesn’t say anything, instead, she casts a glance into the back of the car at the car seat, the movement enough to make the smell of wine on her breath wash over him. It unlocks a memory from his childhood, the scent immediately replaced with scotch for a moment, and he wants nothing more than for this to be done with so he can go home and hug his wife and daughter. 

“She had the baby then?” 

He’s good enough at his job to know that the way she tries to sound like she doesn’t care is fake, that beneath it all is someone who wants to know about her grandchild, about how her daughter is doing, and he wants to shake her.

“Yes. She did.” 

They fall into silence again and Elizabeth laughs wryly, “That’s all I’m going to get? Not a name or a hint of if I have a grandson or granddaughter.” 

“That’s all you are going to get,” he says sternly, making sure she knows he’s serious, “Emily asked me not to tell you anything else.” 

Elizabeth scoffs and shakes her head, “She’s always been one for the dramatics.” 

“She’s been a mother for 14 days and she’s already better at it than you have ever been in almost 40 years.” 

Elizabeth glares at him, her gaze burning into the side of his head. He turns to look at her for a moment before focusing back on the road. Her anger was clear, her jaw tight in a way Emily’s always was when she was angry. 

“You can’t speak to me like that.”

“Yes. I can. She’s my wife. She…” Aaron trails off, clutching the steering wheel even tighter, knowing he was edging on breaking his promise to his wife that he’d made when they first started dating that he wouldn’t get involved, “She deserves better,” it’s his turn to scoff, “She deserves better than a mother who puts everything ahead of her again and again.”

“She’s an adult.” 

“She gave you part of her liver,” he says, bringing up the one thing he knows Emily and Elizabeth had only spoken about once since it happened, part of the wrought final conversation they’d had with her months ago, “She saved your life and you don’t even have the decency to admit you have a problem.” 

“I had a glass of wine with lunch.” 

“You can keep telling yourself that,” he says looking at her again, “You can keep saying Emily is being dramatic for cutting you off. But today you were lucky. You could have lost your career if you were charged,” he shakes his head at her, a humourless laugh escaping, “And I think that would have been the wake up call you needed. Not your daughter, your only child, the person who saved your life last time, begging you to stop. Not the fact you won’t ever meet your grandchild if this carries on. But the fact you could have lost the job that you’ve always put ahead of everything.” 

He knows he’s edging on breaking his longstanding promise to his wife, that he’s risking saying too much, but he also knows he can’t walk away from this without saying something. 

“Are you really saying you believe a woman can’t do it all?” She asks, an edge of sarcasm to her voice, “I doubt my daughter would have ever married someone who believed that, let alone have a baby with him.” 

He has to take a deep breath, his anger licking at his insides again, and he’s grateful they are almost back at hers, the hard-earned control of his emotions reaching its end. 

“Women can. You didn’t.” He says firmly, purposely not looking at her as he feels her gaze burning into the side of his head again as he turns onto her street, “You didn’t raise her. She never came first to you,” he adds, pulling the car up onto her driveway, putting it into park but not switching off the engine, making it clear he wasn’t planning on staying, “But she does come first to me. Her and the kids. And she always will.” 

For a moment, he wonders if she’s going to say something, but she doesn’t. The click of her seatbelt loud in the car quickly followed by the door opening. He hears her heeled shoes hit the gravel, and then there’s another pause. 

“Thank you, Aaron.” 

He looks at her, his gaze stern, “I already told you, this wasn’t for you-”

“Not for that,” she says, cutting him off, hooking her purse over her shoulder, “For loving my daughter.” 

He clenches his teeth to stop himself from saying that he didn’t do that for her either. Instead, he nods, and she smiles tightly at him before she closes the car door, disappearing into the house that had never quite been home for the woman he loves. 

___

The relief Emily feels when she hears the front door open is palpable. Tension seeping out of her body as she relaxes further into the bed. 

She’d brought Lily up to put her down to sleep, but hadn’t been able to bring herself to leave her until Aaron got home, desperately needing her little girl nearby to calm her down. A familiar mix of anger, disappointment and sadness churning deep in her gut, a feeling she had once hoped she’d left behind. 

It takes Aaron less than a minute to make his way upstairs. She stands up just as he walks into the bedroom, and he’s barely through the door before she’s in his arms, his arms tighter around her than they had been in weeks, any lingering concern about hurting her gone. 

She buries her face in his chest and she shudders, desperately trying to ignore the slight smell of her mother’s perfume that seemed to cling to him. A visceral reaction as everything she’d held in since he’d called escapes, her body sagging against his. She’s grateful she’s no longer pregnant, that she can be this close to him, something she’d missed more than she’d admit in the later stages of her pregnancy. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he says, kissing the top of her head whilst he runs his hand up and down her back, “I’ve got you.” 

He isn’t sure how long they stand there. When he pulls back to look at her she smiles shakily at him and he wipes tears from her cheeks before he guides her to the bed, both of them sitting on the edge of it, their thighs pressed together. He wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her closer and he looks behind them at the basinet, smiling softly at the sight of their daughter fast asleep. 

“Is she okay?” He asks, and Emily nods against him, sniffing as she wipes at her cheeks again, the tears seemingly never stopping now he is home. 

“She’s okay,” she says, tilting her head to smile up at him, “She missed you today,” her smile becomes shaky, “Hell of a first day back at work.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees, thinking of how he’d had to drag himself from their side this morning, determined to have an easy day at work so he could make it back home as soon as possible, “Do you…want to talk about it?”

She blows out a breath and shrugs, “No. Yes,” she shakes her head at herself as she lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob, “I don’t know,” she rests her head on his shoulder, tilting it so she’s looking up at him, “Did she seem…apologetic?” 

He sighs and shakes his head, “No, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” 

He doesn’t tell her about the things Elizabeth had said, well aware they were all things she would have heard before. He didn’t want to pick at wounds that had already been torn open this evening, didn’t want to be the salt that made them sting. 

She feels a sob catch in her chest, reaching to wipe another tear from her cheek,  “ I kind of wish she’d been charged.” Emily asks, wiping a tear from her cheek, “If it had hit the press her job would have been at risk and…I think that’s the only thing that would make her stop,” she shakes her head and sighs, “Not having any contact with her only kid doesn’t seem to have made any difference. Is that bad?” 

“Of course not, Em,” he says, cupping her cheek and running his thumb over her skin, “I’d feel the same way.” 

She closes her eyes and shakes her head at herself, cursing under her breath, “Shit, Aaron. I’m sorry. I know it can’t have been easy for you to go.”

On some level, she hates that they have this in common. That one of their intertwined threads came from understanding how it felt to be raised by someone who chose alcohol above everything else, the desire to be better parents than the ones they had. But a selfish part of her likes it. She likes that they don’t have to explain this in any way, that they understand the darkest parts of each other. 

“Sweetheart, you have nothing to apologise for,” he assures her, leaning in to press a kiss against her lips, “I’d do anything for you, you know that.” 

She nods, the guilt not fully stamped out, and she reaches up to push his hair from his forehead, “I’d do anything for you too.” 

He kisses her again before he pulls her in for a hug, trying and failing to hide a smile when he hears her stomach gurgle. “Want me to go sort dinner? I’m going to assume you haven’t eaten.” 

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t deny it, “In a minute, okay? Let’s just say like this for a bit.” 

Aaron nods and kisses the top of her head, content to hold her as long as she needs, wanting nothing more than to make her feel better. 

“We can stay here as long as you want, sweetheart.” 

Any response is cut off by Lily crying, a sound followed by both of her parents laughing, and Emily smiles at him, stamping a kiss to his lips before she stands up. 

“She certainly has impressive timing.” 

He watches as she picks up Lily, talking in the hushed tones she seemed to reserve for their daughter and Jack, and it only confirms what he’d said to Elizabeth earlier. 

Emily was a better mother than she’d ever been. 

-x-

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[kolcheksluver]

can u write a harry x cassandra the society one shot pls 🙏🏼

STARGAZING — A ONE SHOT.

characters mentioned: Harry Bingham, Cassandra Pressman.

overview: “You know the constellations, Cass?”

“Some. You?”

“None.”

She chuckled fondly and pointed up at one, “That’s Ursa Major, The Great Bear.”

“How do you know how to read those?”

“I’m taking Astronomy this year.”

“That tracks.”

“Did you ever wish on a star when you were a kid?”

What a weird question. Harry looked over at her and furrowed his eyebrows before he fixed his face. “The stars can only give you so much hope.”

Cassandra leaned back resting on her palms. “Always the pessimist, you are.”

words: 845

warnings: None js some silliness. Thank you SOO much for this request.

It wasn’t uncommon for Harry to find himself up in the late hours of the night. Actually, it was insanely common. He just could not fucking sleep. His parents were always too busy to notice it, so he often stayed up playing video games or looking over any scripts he had for the school show. But tonight? He had no desire to do anything. No games. No scripts. Hell, no reading. Harry just swiveled in a chair by his desk bored out of his mind trying to sleep to come to him.

When he heard something small hit his window Harry’s head perked up from its place rested against his knuckle with his elbow propped up against his desk. It didn’t happen again for a few moments so he thought it might as well have just been the sleep deprivation getting to him.

And then it happened again. And again. Definitely not the sleep deprivation. He got up and opened his curtains and looked down. Beneath his window, at three - thirty in the fucking morning was a head of familiar blonde hair with matching blunt bangs to boot holding a handful of small pebbles alongside a bag wrapped around her shoulder. The two had been friendly lately. Which was funny, because it had gone completely unnoticed to everybody else. Harry figured Cassandra Pressman and Harry Bingham — two people who were constantly at each other’s throats — acting friendly with one another would cause a stir within their close - knit theater class.

Harry opened his window and leaned out of it, whisper - yelling. “The fuck are you doing, Pressman? It’s three in the fucking morning!”

“I know. Come down.”

“What? Are you nuts?”

“There’s a method to my madness, Bingham. Come down!”

“No!”

“Harry.”

“Cassandra.”

“Please?”

Harry heaved a sigh. Whatever it was, Cassandra probably has a reason. “Fucking fine.” Muttering under his breath as he crawled out the window and carefully maneuvered down his roof and down to the ground. Cassandra met him half way as she pocketed her pebbles and looked up at him with a wide smile.

“I’m here. What do you want?”

“To go to the beach.”

“What? At three am?”

“Come on. I have my reasons, okay? Just trust me.”

Harry scoffed. “Trust you, right ..”

The two walked together, though Harry's eyes hadn’t left Cassandra, who walked with determination before she met his gaze. She seemed unfazed by the fact he was staring. “Why are you awake?”

“Oh, now you ask me?”

Cass waved a hand dismissively, “Shut up.”

“Couldn’t sleep. Why are you awake?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Stealing my excuses now, Pressman?” She lightly shoved them before she linked arms with him and walked. Once the two arrived at the abandoned beach he finally spoke, “Do you wanna tell me what we’re doing here now?”

“Stargazing.”

Oh he could have turned right the fuck around. “You dragged me out of the fucking house at three in the fucking morning to look at the stars? You’re insane. I’m going home.”

“No, no.” She pulled him closer and looked up at him. “Humor me. Please.” Harry sighed and muttered under his breath, a faint glare on his face.

“Whatever, let’s go.”

Cassandra walked further into the beach and unzipped the bag to reveal two beach towels. She laid them out beside each other and sat down on one, Harry on the other. “You know the constellations, Cass?”

“Some. You?”

“None.”

She chuckled fondly and pointed up at one, “That’s Ursa Major, The Great Bear.”

“How do you know how to read those?”

“I’m taking Astronomy this year.”

“That tracks.”

“Did you ever wish on a star when you were a kid?”

What a weird question. Harry looked over at her and furrowed his eyebrows before he fixed his face. “The stars can only give you so much hope.”

Cassandra leaned back resting on her palms. “Always the pessimist, you are.”

“You surprised?”

“Not really.”

Cassandra looked over at him with a gentle smile etched onto her face. The pale moonlight reflected off her skin wonderfully, enhancing her gorgeous features even more so. Harry’s lips formed a thin line. He thought about kissing her on multiple occasions but he never thought it a reality. But like she could read her mind, Cassandra leaned in slightly. Normally Harry wouldn’t be opposed but for some reason unbeknownst to him he froze up and blurted out, “We should get back.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Harry pretended not to notice the shock on her face turning into a look of sadness and mild hurt in his unspoken rejection to her advance but nodded. “Sure. We can .. get back.”

Harry and Cassandra walked back in silence. No linked arms. No teasing. Just the shuffling of feet with shoes full of sand. When they arrived back in front of Harry’s house he finally spoke up, “Cass —”

“Goodnight, Harry.” She spoke stiffly. Harry nodded with reluctance. He shouldn’t have done that, rejecting her kiss like that. Especially not when he wanted to. But he backed off.

“Get home safe, Cassandra.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

[lykir]

L.O.S.T

Salam pheww as always Id come back here at least after a year or years, in this case its almost 2 years, mind you within this time it had been at least 5 times of trial of posting here but I ended up pressing backspace on hold..

A lot had happened within these 2 years, and when I said a lot I really meant it. For starters now I am in confinement period of newborn delivery for Mukmina and in March last year 2022 I already had Busyra, I know its kind of close right and this is what its all about.

Being in long leave, taking care of newborn and older children always made me kind of lost. There are so much things I wanted to do, be it business, writing, studying, self-enhancing but it will always ended up with nothing. I am always LOST. but today I am determined to write it here, I really need to vent out whatever it is because I like to come back here someday and read back this post to remind me how I actually managed through this phase.

So after my last post which was around Sept 2021, what happened is I became an MO in Plastic Surgery dept. To be honest I enjoyed being in that dept especially the part of becoming better in toilet and suturing and have a kind-hearted and God-sent bosses is not something u were always granted with. I'm gonna write here Mr.Shakir you are among the most-considerate person I've ever known and please stay like that because people like you is hard to find these days. I stayed in plastic for almost 8months plus confinement leave then I went to KK Seberang Takir in June 2022 and had an offer from HPUniSZA which I accepted and started on August as MO UD43.

in March 2022 I delivered Busyra and we were on barrier method for family planning. After we had Busyra we kind of super proud saying we're gonna retire for the next few years only to find out I was pregnant again a year later . Phewww God is the most powerful even on whatever method u are on your hand will never overdo His jobs.

"Pregnancy should be planned and wanted" -

That's what I always bear in my mind, little did I know I will be the one who go against it. I took few days to actually digest that I was pregnant again that time. Some may say that I overreacted but going thru phases of breastfeeding, expressing BM in work, return trip to babysitter to send EBM, sleep-deprived period, not to mention I've been sleeping on one side thru out the night to BF for 3 years which cost me backpain, dull eyes and etc. made me really2 overwhelmed by the news. Mukmina if u ever read this later I'm telling you its not that we don't want you its just that we're shocked. Now that I have you it was never a regret.

So now I am 30years old lady with 3 daughters under 4 years old. Alhamdulillah for everything He gave you it is indeed the best. This time even almost every night Mukmina tried to give me on calls reminder I was chill enough. I am at least at peace with it.

So up till today there was so much thing that happened that may affect my mental health but Allah is most-merciful I think I learned how to handle better. But there are times we were struggling with parenting but who doesn't right.

So my wish and hope for my future-self is I just want to be better spiritually, I felt like I've been in distraction for so long, its time to go back to where i was and live life to how I'm supposed to insyaAllah.

[gjnnypotter]

Thunder and Rain

So I’ve always wondered what happened straight after Harry left Dumbledore’s office after that chapter in the Order of the Phoenix. So I’ve decided to write what I think might’ve happened. Enjoy :)

The door to the office closed behind him with a firm thud, blocking out the dulcet murmurs of the portraits. Harry walked swiftly down the spiralling staircase. He had to get away. He couldn’t bring himself to sit for one more moment in the tense silence that had descended upon himself and his headmaster. He stepped off of the staircase, out into the empty corridor. Everyone was in the Great Hall for breakfast, and Harry couldn’t be more relieved. He knew he looked a state. His face was white as a sheet and his clothes were dirtied and torn from the scuffle in the ministry. If anyone saw him now, who knew what kind of rumours would fly around - not that he cared about them really.

Sirius is dead.

The thought hit him from nowhere and it felt like he had been punched. Hard. He was standing in the middle of the corridor, his breathing gradually becoming more and more unsteady.

It’s my fault

He needed to get away. To leave. To go somewhere where nobody could find him. He didn’t want to be found. He needed to be alone. He had to be. It was necessary.

Before he knew it, his feet started to carry him away. He wasn’t thinking straight. He walked as fast as he could, shoulders hunched and hands shoved deep into his pockets. Everything was a blur - the walls around him closing in.

If he had just listened to Hermione then this wouldn’t have happened. If he had just taken a moment to think about what the implications of running off to London would be, then this wouldn’t have happened. If he had realised it was all a set up, a trap, then this wouldn’t have happened.

He’d still have his godfather.

The guilt was overwhelming. He felt like he was drowning in it, falling slowly down into a deep abyss with no hope of ever emerging.

Harry looked up and saw that he was standing in entrance to the owlery, of all places. Soft hoots and twitters greeted him but he barely noticed. His thoughts were racing and whirring around his head.

The draughts coming in from the glassless windows ruffled his hair, making it messier than it had been before. Harry walked over and sat himself gently of the window ledge - leaning against the wall and drawing his knees up to his chest. The morning sun bathed him in an orange glow, but it didn’t seem to be able to dissipate cold feeling that had overrun him.

Harry had always liked it up here. It was quiet and secluded, and there was a brilliant view of the lake and the surrounding hills. The owlery brought with it a sense of calm. Of feeling of ease and tranquility as owls swooped in and out of the tower. Over the years, Harry had loved coming up to say hello to Hedwig - and in recent years, to give her a letter to send off to his long lost godfather.

He wouldn’t be able to do that again.

Harry took in a shaky breath and bit his trembling lip. He didn’t cry though. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried. He remembered coming close to doing so at the end of his fourth year, but he had never completely unraveled. There was a foreign lump at the back of his throat and any attempt to swallow it down didn’t seem to do the job.

Harry shut his eyes tight and lowered his head to rest on his knees. His hands were shaking slightly as he clasped them around his legs. He felt isolated.

Neither can live while the other survives.

And there was that too. To just put the cherry on top of his burnt cake that was falling apart. Harry didn’t want to believe it was true, however he knew deep down that the prophecy and it’s contents weren’t just a load of nonsense - even if he wasn’t ready to accept that yet. He was only 15 for Merlin’s sake! How the hell was he supposed to defeat a Dark Lord - a feat that Dumbledore himself couldn’t even manage a few hours ago.

Kill or be killed. Perfect. Murder or be murdered. Just fantastic. Slaughter or be slaughtered. Bloody amazing.

Because that was his destiny. A curse he was born into. He didn’t like either outcome. He didn’t want to think about it. How could he ever hope to be normal, to live a normal life and to be a normal teenager when a death sentence was looming over him like a shadow.

Life just isn’t fair.

It was funny how that didn’t shock him anymore.

Harry gazed blankly out onto the grounds of Hogwarts, the place he called home, he saw other students walking across the grounds - enjoying the morning sun, laughing with each other. They were carefree, untroubled and happy.

Happy.

Because why should Harry’s problems concern them? Why should they care about the death of the only father figure Harry could remember? Why should they care about Harry’s decent into guilt and grief? And why, oh why should they care about Harry’s future status of murderer or victim?

So Harry sat on the window ledge. Trapped in a vicious snare of self loathing and impeccable despair. The perfect blend.

And so minutes bled into hours. People came in and out throughout the morning, hastily leaving after glimpsing Harry’s hunched form framed by the sun and blue sky. The perfect contrast to what he was feeling, for if the weather truly reflected his emotions there would be thunderstorms and gales. No sun. No blue skies. Just thunder and rain.

[vidalinav]

Stu(died)-Chapter 3

Summary: Cassian takes care of a sick Nesta

Nessian Modern AU-university setting. 

Masterlist, Stu(died) Chapter List 

(Rolls eyes hardcore) I am continuing this fic for literally five people. Smh. 

~

Nesta comes to their tutoring session late and that’s the first thing that tips him off. Already his phone is in his hand ready to call 911. He has Nesta’s number in his phone saved. The first person listed in his text log under Nerd. He can always text or call her. He belongs to The Rat Pack in Nesta’s Snap Chat group, and he knows he can always contact Emerie or Gwyn if something is truly wrong. Yet he dials in 911 and his thumb hovers over the call button.   

If she doesn’t show up in fifteen minutes, Cassian swears he’ll call.  

Nesta’s never late. In fact, she’s annoyingly early. She practically has a stop watch in her hand at all times, counting every minute she waits. When Cassian comes running in five minutes later, as he so often does, panting with some excuse, Nesta doesn’t even bother looking up from her textbook. She merely gestures to the seat, a heavy sigh on her lips, like she’s running out of time to bore him death even as she fascinates him to pieces. 

Her books should already be splayed onto the table, her pencils straight and neatly lined up. Today, the table is empty. 

He’ll give it fifteen minutes and then he’s calling.  

But Nesta shows up before another minute ticks by. She steps out of the elevator wearing that grey polo he’s seen on her a million times. She lugs her way to him, dragging her feet with the weight of those textbooks he’s sure are in her bag. 

She’s wearing a mask, today, and that’s another thing that sends his brain screeching somethings not right here! It covers half of her face, and her eyes look tired from where they peak above the fabric. Cassian doesn’t even bother waiting for her to settle. Already he’s crossing his arms, his brows crinkling with concern and something like irritation. 

How dare she think studying is more important than her health.  

“Go home,” he says as she nears. Nesta only blinks as if as not understanding his words. The fact that she doesn’t immediately argue is enough for him to start gathering his things.  

“What are you doing?” She says as he stuffs his notebook in his bag, “You have an exam in two weeks.” Nesta sets down her own, it slaps at the table with a heavy thump. Cassian can hear the zipper unzipping but not as well as the cough that roars out of her mouth.  

It’s loud and wet, and Nesta pauses as if to get her bearings, covering her mouth with her arm. She coughs and coughs and Cassian lays a hand to his own chest. He can almost feel how much it hurts, how she gasps. 

Cassian shakes his head, “No, I’m taking you home.”  

Nesta’s brows furrow and she gets that look in her eyes. He just knows she’s going to fight him on this. “I--”  

Cassian cuts her off, “please, save your breath. You’re going to make everyone sick.”  

“I’m wearing a mask!” Nesta argues.  

“It’s almost midterms.” Cassian gestures to the other occupants in the library. He sees one person with their hoodie pulled up over their head, clearly sleeping... and moves on to someone else. A group in the corner who’s standing by a whiteboard. “You want to take your chances with sleep deprived students?” 

Nesta seems to think about that. While she does, Cassian zips up her bag and throws it over his shoulder. It’s as heavy as he thought it might be. Briefly, he thinks of making a joke about how she must have stuffed a body in here, but he doesn’t think she’d appreciate it, given how quiet she is.   

Mentally, he starts making a list of everything she needs. Medicine? He’ll get the pills and the syrup, never mind if she scrunches her nose at the taste. He’ll get her soup. Not the canned. Cassian will buy the ingredients. He’s sure he can make something appeasing. Vaguely, he can remember his mom’s recipe. Beef broth and cabbage and squash. Hopefully she can stomach it. Never mind, the salt will be good for her.  

“Hey,” she whines, blinking up at him slowly, “give me my bag.”  

“Have you not heard me? You need to be home lying down. Not here, helping me study. Why on earth did you think this was a good idea? I’m taking you home.”  

Nesta crosses her arms and the intimidation tactic seems ridiculous with her face half covered and her endless sniffling. “You can try, but I’ll just refuse to tell you my apartment number.”  

Cassian scoffs, “I know where you live. I can see your room from the house when you study at night.”   

“Who says that out loud?” Nesta shouts. 

She must be terribly ill if she’s yelling in a library. That’s all he can think as he gestures to the elevator, bags in hand. 

“Never mind that. Let’s go,” Cassian says, walking ahead without her. 

He can’t hear her shuffling though, so he turns back to find Nesta leaning on a chair, holding her stomach. He can already feel himself sighing.   

Cassian rushes back just in time for Nesta to rip off her mask, and move to the closest trashcan. It’s situated under one of the bulletin boards and as Cassian sidles up to her, rubbing at her back and pulling her hair away, he looks to the papers tacked to the board.  

Join the rowing team. Looking for tutors. Research participants wanted.  

He can hear the retching and Cassian reads on. 

Babysitter wanted for professor, transportation needed.

“I haven’t thrown up since middle school,” Nesta says pathetically. She frowns as he hands her his bottle of water. Her nose and cheeks are red and for some reason he thinks of Rudolph, lighting the way for Santa through the storm. 

He feels bad for little Rudolph...

“Now will you let me take you home,” Cassian sighs. He hopes it doesn’t sound like an ‘I told you so’ but she should really be lying down. He lays a hand to her forehead, but she brushes him off, moving towards the bathrooms.  

“I’ll wait right here,” he says, but Nesta moves ahead as if she doesn’t hear him at all. Cassian can’t find it in himself to mind. A sick Nesta is guaranteed to be a stubborn Nesta, he just knows.  

When she gets out, she looks surprised to see him and that’s another look that just proves how sick she must be. It’s a fairly obvious prediction that he’s going to wait next to the girl's bathroom, counting ceiling tiles. It’s a perfectly ‘Cassian with Nesta’ thing to do.  

“You’re skipping class?”   

Nesta coughs again, and she looks perfectly pitiful as she blinks her tired eyes. Cassian can feel his lips frown, and he shifts her bag more securely on his shoulder if only to keep himself from reaching out for her. Already he can feel his hands bunch into fists because he wants to grab her own and squeeze it until she's reassured. He wants to hug her until she feels better.  

But he can’t.  

Cassian lists every action he wants to do. Kiss her forehead where Nesta rubs her hand, because she must have a headache from how sick she is. Put on her favorite movie, so she can fall asleep to its sound. Run to every store, raiding every Walgreens and CVS until he comes back with a pharmacy.  

What might she allow now that she’s sick? Will she let him fuss like he wants to?  

But Nesta rolls her eyes in that haughty way of hers. “You can’t do that.”   

“I can’t do what?” Cassian asks and he wonders if she can read his thoughts. If she studies him so well, reads him like one of her textbooks, memorizing facts and facial features.  

“You can’t skip class,” she argues. “Why am I tutoring you if you’re going to skip class?”  

At the words, all Cassian wants to do is sigh. She’s thinking about attendance at a time like this...   

“Nesta, there is no class more important than you.” 

Her brows crinkle at the center like she’s going to start arguing, but Cassian allows himself one touch. He places his thumb there, between her brows, smoothing out the lines. Nesta rips away, blinking up dazed and all too confused. Cassian would laugh at the look, if he didn’t need the distraction.   

He juts his head to the elevator quickly. “Let’s go. We can walk slow, so don’t overexert yourself.”   

Nesta scrunches up her nose, so cute and red, but she follows him anyway albeit a little petulantly. She holds her hand out for her bag, but Cassian turns toward the doors, pretending not to see.   

“How does me being sick make you bossy?”   

Cassian doesn’t dare to respond. He doesn’t know whether he’ll admit that he wants to take care of her, that’s he’s so worried a knot twists in his stomach, or if he’ll make some joke, he knows will make her mad. Maybe that’s the better option, he thinks. He can handle a mad Nesta. He likes a mad Nesta, but a Nesta who so easily rejects him?   

Cassian doesn’t know about that.   

“You don’t have any classes left this week, right?”   

Nesta coughs into her sleeve before answering. Though she means to sound queenly, she only sounds sick, “you know where I live, and you also know my class schedule... seems suspicious if you ask me.”   

“I’ve known you for two years.” 

“And murder victims are three times more likely to be killed by someone they know." 

Cassian huffs out a laugh, shaking his head, “Do you still go to sleep watching SVU? Or have you switched to Lifetime movies where the babysitters always try to kill the wife?”   

“People should be wary about the people they know,” Nesta shrugs as if that’s answer enough.   

Cassian snorts, “well you don’t have to be wary of me.”   

As the elevator doors open, Cassian gestures for her to go first and Nesta does, but not before crossing her arms.   

“That’s just what a murderer would want me to think.” She squints as if dissecting him, limb by limb. “You kill me, and I’ll haunt you. You won’t be able to sleep at night without thinking of me.” 

Too late, Cassian thinks.  

It’s much too late for that.  

~

Rudolph has the patience of a five-year-old when she’s sick. Cassian learns this fairly quickly when he runs inside a Walgreens on their way to Nesta’s apartment.  

There’s a bench that she can sit on, where she can wait if she feels tired, but no. Nesta decides she needs to run errands. She has an entire basket filled by the time he finds her again. She’s by the greeting cards, holding three open at a time. Cassian huffs with a receipt and medicine in hand.  

“Here,” he says, giving her the cough medicine. “Take some of this.”  

Nesta doesn’t even bother with pouring. He watches as she rips the cap away, taking a swig right out of the bottle, gulping it down.  

“That’s way more than the suggested amount,” he cries, “you can get drunk on this stuff!”  

“Good, maybe I’ll forget this day ever happened.”

Cassian sighs... it seems all he does is sigh when she’s like this. A sick Nesta is a petulant, irritated Nesta with a permanent furrow between her brows. 

“I know you feel sick,” he tries to placate, “but I bet you’d feel a whole lot better if we get you home as soon as we can... so you can lie down and sleep.”  

Nesta only picks up another Halloween card. She ignores his suggestion, laughing under her breath as she reads whatever inane joke is written there. Soon, she’s coughing though, and Cassian reaches for the basket just to stop himself from rubbing a hand down her back, combing his fingers through her hair.  

Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn, his thoughts scream.  

Cassian looks to the contents to distract himself from her watery eyes, and that’s when he notices what she’s grabbed. It seems that while he was in the cold and flu aisle, Nesta was raiding the snacks. 

“What is this?” He gestures to the basket. Two boxes of cereal. Caramel corn. Baked Lay’s and cans of Arizona tea. Cassian takes one and holds it up. “Really Nesta?”  

“What it’s green tea!” she argues, shoving another card back in its slot.   

“This is all... junk,” he tries to explain, but Nesta’s already glowering. 

“Look I don’t question your decisions. You don’t question mine.”  

Cassian gives her a bland look. “You question my decisions all the time. Before we came in here, you literally said ‘why are we going in here, Cassian? Weren’t you supposed to take me home.’ You said that.”

Nesta simply raises her chin, pulling out another card. “I recall no such thing.” 

“Fine,” Cassian grumbles, “if you want to eat yourself to an early grave and ignore everything that could potentially make you feel better than that’s just fine with me.”  

“Good,” she says, putting back the other cards. Nesta settles for a pop-up that sings Monster Mash when she opens it. She sets it in the basket he holds, walking ahead without even looking back. “I’m ready to check out.”  

“Really?” Cassian jokes, mockingly. “Are you sure you raided the candy aisle?” 

Nesta stops in her tracks, peering through the section with printer ink and paper as if she can see the other side. He swears he’d facepalm if he wasn’t carrying all this stuff. 

“You’re right,” she says, nodding. 

“Wait!” Cassian calls. “Where are you going? Nesta!”  

Too late. He can already hear crunching bags. 

The variety packs.  

Cassian sighs, lugging their things to the aisle next door. 

~

“Can I use these vegetables?” Cassian asks, as Nesta shoves open the door to her room. He’s surprised she’s not still by the freezer. When they first get back to her place, she sticks her head in there and he wonders if he should suggest taking her temperature, or if she’s doing it just to show him she’s annoyed.  

Perhaps her ears bleed from the sound of his voice.  

That seems like something Nesta would say.  

“They’re Emerie’s. Why?”

“To make soup,” Cassian explains, rifling through the contents. There’s zucchini and summer squash. Onion, fresh parsley and carrots. Cabbage and lettuce. Fresh fruit. He can make a nice stew out of this.  

Nesta scoffs, “I don’t need soup.”  

She enters her room, shoving the door back behind her until it leaves only a crack.  

“You can leave now,” she yells. “I’m home like you wanted.”  

“Are you lying down?” He asks, crossing his arms sternly though she can’t see him.  

Nesta sighs loudly, “you’re annoying!”  

“Maybe if you got some rest, I’d be less annoying,” Cassian sings brightly.  

He can hear the soft sound of her voice. “Doubt.”  

Cassian shakes his head with a smirk. He opens his snapchat where The Rat Pack is the first on the list, but the group name has changed... to People I Tolerate.

That’s got to be Nesta.  

Cassian laughs under his breath and types. Can I use your vegetables? Making Nesta soup.

Emerie’s bitmoji pops up at the bottom, but the person who texts back first is not Emerie, but Gwyn.  

You’re at our house?

Cassian can almost hear her voice. Stern and cautious. He’s almost certain she doesn’t like him. Gwyn looks at him with even more disdain than Nesta when he's around. That stay away from my friend look.  

He sighs. Yes, Nesta’s sick.  

Gwyn’s quick to respond. I can come home early. I need to drop off a paper, but I can be there in 30.  

Cassian rolls his eyes and types, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of her.  

Nesta’s face pops up. I can take care of myself.  

“No, you can’t!” Cassian yells.  

“Yes, I can!” Nesta yells back, but then she starts coughing again and he can hear her groan in the other room. Cassian raises a brow at her door.  

I’m going to make soup. I’ll make enough for all of you, but can I use stuff from the fridge? I’ll replace it all.  

Emerie’s face pops up and then disappears quickly. He’s about ready to go to the store himself or at least next door to the House, but Emerie’s text appears.  

I have no objections to this.

Cassian smiles in relief, and he’s about to set down his phone when another notification appears. It’s Emerie again.  

And if you make good soup, you can stay indefinitely.  

Cassian sends a winking emoji. Nesta sends back the emoji with the straight mouth and eyes. Before he can frown at what that means, Cassian sees that the group name has changed... to Three’s Company.  

That’s got to be Gwyn.  

Stone cold, Emerie texts back.  

Cassian decides he’s going to ignore that for the moment and focus on the objective at hand.  

Soup.  

Cassian pulls out the vegetables and looks through the cupboards. Emerie, it seems, has all the good spices. He finds the broth packets stored in the back, and he pulls out some beef from the freezer. It’ll need to defrost but he can start the broth now, get the vegetables soft, and brown the beef later. It’ll take a couple of hours anyway.  

Occasionally, he hears a cough as he works. Then a sweet laugh... followed by a cough and a groan. Cassian feels bad for her he does, but he can’t help but find the whole situation amusing. She should be resting and yet she seems to be wide awake.  

Nesta doesn’t come out of her room though. It’s as if he’s not even there, and he takes that time to look over her shared apartment. There are three doors, each with a letter at the front. The N is blue, the E, green, and the G, pink. He doesn’t know how it’s possible to have a living room that looks like all three, but somehow it works. It’s studious and bright. Colorful, but subdued. There are way too many throw pillows and books scattered everywhere, but there’s also a TV with a fireplace under it. He can just imagine Nesta laughing at scary movies. Some slasher fic she’ll watch like she’s taking notes.  

He can imagine Nesta everywhere, in fact.  

This is where she eats. Where she sits. Where she studies. This is where she trips over shoes if they’re not neatly lined up and where she complains about dirty dishes. This is where she cooks... if she does cook. Cassian doesn’t know.  

Maybe he’ll get to find out one day.  

Once the water starts boiling and the meat is in the microwave to defrost, Cassian goes to check how Rudolph is doing.  

He knocks on her door lightly, pushing it open. “Nesta?”  

Cassian’s never seen her room before, say for when she sits by the window with her curtains wide open, and just like then, it seems like an invasion of privacy to do so now. But Nesta’s plopped on top of her bed, tucked beneath her blue comforter, and she sets down her phone when he appears at the door.  

Her whole room is filled with blues and creams, and it looks exactly what he imagines Nesta’s room to look like. The large calendar, an agenda on the desk, bookshelf after bookshelf lining her walls. There are also things he doesn’t know of her yet. Pictures and posters and a.... stuffed lobster? Cassian holds it up.

“Would you stop looking around?” Nesta groans. She has her arm resting over her eyes, and he wonders if it’s because she doesn’t want to see him looking or if she feels that bad that the light is bothering her.

She should be getting some rest, he thinks.  

“Where did you get a stuffed lobster?”

Nesta coughs out her response.

The sound makes Cassian grimace, his chest ache with need, but he doesn’t rush over like he wants to. This is her house, her room... and this is Nesta who doesn’t like to be coddled by anyone.

“It’s a heat pack,” she says at last, after she catches her breath.

“A heat pack?” Cassian looks to the soft red claws that dangle. He’s never seen anything so soft be a heat pack.

“For cramps,” she says as if it’s obvious. Nesta must take his silence to mean ignorance for she lifts onto her elbows, raising a judgmental brow. “Please tell me you know what periods are or am I am going to have to go back to teaching you biology?”

“No,” Cassian draws out, “I know what periods are.”

Nesta mumbles a thank god and Cassian watches as she shifts under the covers, pulling them up until they hover just beneath her mouth.

“Are you cold?” Cassian asks, looking around her room. He spots his burgundy hoodie neatly folded and nearly yanks it from her desk. “Here. Wear my sweatshirt.”

“I just washed it,” Nesta whines, “I was going to give it back to you.”  

Cassian’s confused by the words, but he merely gestures for her to budge up. He’s thankful when she doesn’t argue. He rolls the sweatshirt over her head and Nesta fits her arms through the sleeves.  

“You didn’t have to wash it,” he says, watching as she pats down her hair. If only he could pull it up for her, comb his fingers through it. She could use his scrunchie too, if she wanted.

Nesta rolls her eyes, and he can only imagine what she thinks. He can practically hear the words. Of course, you wouldn’t care about clean clothes.

Her expressions practically give her away--everything she feels and thinks. Cassian wonders if he knows how open she is to the rest of the world. He wonders if she’d hate him if he told her this.

“It was going to smell like me,” she frowns.

Cassian wants to huff out a laugh. That is perfectly fine by him.  

“Stop laughing,” she whines, “I’m being serious.”  

“Yes, you’re being very serious.” He can’t help his smirk as he gazes up at her. He doesn’t even realize he’s on her bed, sitting to the side of her all bunched up in red. Her nose to the fabric. He almost wants to say she looks cute in his hoodie, all sick like that, but he knows she’ll only bite at him, remarking about how he has some weird fetish for sick girls. 

Cassian holds back a laugh as he hears the microwave ding. He needs to turn the meat around, so it doesn’t cook through, but Nesta grips his arm. His head whips towards her and... Nesta’s gazing up at him. Her eyes are a soft blue. Just like her room.  

“You’re warm,” she says. To explain herself, he thinks, and why she holds him as if she doesn't want him to move.   

Cassian’s lips raise lightly, and he places the back of his hand on her forehead. “You must be worse than you’re letting on if you're okay with me being in your bed.”  

Nesta scoffs, “you’re on it. Not in it. I’ll make that distinction very clear.”  

“You can’t be that sick then,” Cassian shrugs, smiling. “If you’re making everything sound like a tutoring session.”  

Her cheeks flush a bright pink and Cassian thinks she must have a fever. He wonders if he should search for an ice pack or make one, so she doesn’t get too hot.  

“Are you tired?” He asks, noting how slowly she blinks. “You did drink a lot of cough syrup.”

“I also took a NyQuil,” she says, closing her eyes.  

Cassian huffs, “remind me to teach you how read warning labels when your fully coherent.”  

He can hear the microwave ding again, and it reminds him of an alarm. Wake up! It seems to say. Being in Nesta’s room does feels like falling asleep. Rather dream-like and hazy. The microwave dings incessantly, but Cassian doesn’t want to wake up just yet. 

Her hand is still on his arm. It’s so much smaller than his and he wants to trace the skin there and see if it’s as soft as it looks. Cassian doesn’t dare look at her, in case she doesn’t just bang together two loud cymbals and tell him to get up and out and away. 

Cassian looks ahead instead, fixing his gaze on the stuffed lobster on her desk.  

“Nesta,” he starts and then swallows. He feels nervous, his hands clammy. “Nesta, I really think you and I... we’d be good together.”  

Cassian takes a breath, and he stares at the lobster as if it’s her face. “We’ve known each other for a long time now and I... I haven’t hid how I feel about you.” His heart is beating way too fast, and he doesn’t feel any freer from speaking the words, but Cassian decides it’s time to rip the Band-Aid off. “I thought maybe... we could try it out. See if you might be comfortable with it. If you might like me... too?”  

He doesn’t know why he words that like a question, but Nesta doesn’t say a word. Cassian looks back, hoping there’s no disgust in baby blue. He doesn’t know what he’d do if she just outright says he’s trash and she’ll never like him. 

But Nesta’s fast asleep.  

Cassian doesn’t bother sighing as he grips her limp hand, setting it on the blanket. He doesn’t bother being disappointed when he tucks the comforter around her. Her cheeks are a lobster-red and he rubs a thumb lightly there, wondering what it would be like to hold her face in his palm and kiss at her nose. Would she complain as he pecked her lips? You’ll get sick Cassian.  

Then we can stay in bed together, Nesta.  

No. Cassian’s not disappointed at all. 

He’ll tuck away his dreams where tomorrow lives. 

Today, he’ll stick to what he’s good at, so Cassian heads to the kitchen to make soup.

~

~ ~

~

~

Mwahahahaahah

~

In case you missed, here’s the stuffed lobster in the flesh.

~

Tagged: 

@arinbelle @my-fan-side @sophilightwood @nestaarcher0n @duskandstarlight @soitsgorgeous @swankii-art-teacher @lordof-bloodshed @thewhelk @daisy-in-danger @highqueenevankhell @lovelynesta @sirendeepity @champanheandluxxury @ladynestaarcheron @moodymelanist @teagoddess99 @spoilersteph @angelic-voice-1997 @bo0kmaster69 @drielecarla @generalnesta @cozycomfyliving08 @confusedfandomslut @dread3r @sv0430​

~

"Why am I still writing this fic?" I say angrily, as I angrily type it in my angry word document.

[bleachhaven]

Soutaicho’s Secret Admirer (Shunsui x Reader) — Part 5/6

Author’s Note:

It should be noted that this story is almost coming to a close...I’m sad to stop writing about Shunsui but it’s time to wrap this one up. So there’s maybe 1 or 2 more parts left.

Warning: A bit of smut ahead. One can only be seduced endlessly for so long without something happening about it.

–

Read Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3  and Part 4 first!

Uncharacteristically, Shunsui was late to arrive at the office. It was almost ten in the morning when he finally strolled in. Nanao would have admonished him without a thought but the dark circles beneath his eyes revealed he had already had a terrible night. She didn’t want to make it a terrible morning as well.

Shunsui didn’t have the excuse of drunken debauchery at some late night party for his tardiness. The last party he’d been to had been Lisa-chan’s Valentine’s Day celebration and that was over two weeks ago.

It was more or less about how his loneliness and melancholy had kept him up late into the night. Something he definitely didn’t want to burden sweet Nanao-chan about.

He had found himself strolling randomly in seireitei at around three in the goddamn morning because simply staying in his bed staring at his ceiling felt impossible. He didn’t have these kind of difficult nights too often but when he did have them, they were quite terrible.

Sure, he missed Juu. But his loneliness was a bit more than that this time.

It has been over two weeks since he had received anything from his beloved Secret Admirer. Fourteen whole days of complete silence from her was quite unusual, and he felt it acutely. Where was she?

The darkest of thoughts had plagued him at night. What if she was sent on a dangerous mission? What if she had been injured? He hated to think it...but what if she was never coming back? Hadn’t he honestly lost enough? 

The thoughts spiraled as the evening progressed into the wee hours of the morning, growing darker and more melancholy.

He knew he was not the greatest catch in the Soul Society. That title fell to Byakuya, uncontested. Shunsui was older than everyone in seireitei - a thousand years too old, he’d say. He was nobility too but he wasn’t one to truly fit into that mould, which deterred most noblewomen from considering him. 

He wasn’t what one would call conventionally handsome either. He knew he wasn’t ugly...but he wasn’t exactly...whole. Not anymore. Maybe once he would have held some appeal and he had many lovers who thought him handsome enough to have a tumble with him... but the eyepatch never failed to remind him that he was never going to be good looking, by anyone’s standards, with a goddamn hole in his face.

Most days, none of this would honestly bother him. But last night it did.

His beloved Secret Admirer probably came to the conclusion that he wasn’t worth all the trouble after all. Surely, there had to be a reason why he had never been able to have a long term relationship. He blamed it on his job but...was that all it was? Maybe he was just not meant to have a happily ever after with someone.

As romantic as he was, he didn’t really believe in the concept of happily ever after. He knew relationships were work. It was a commitment between two people who cared about each other to work on staying together through whatever. With time, he had put any thoughts of a relationship on the back burner. With his duty to the Gotei 13, and his responsibilities as well as the added burden of maintaining his reputation as the Soutaicho...it was a practical choice. 

But his Secret Admirer had made him want. Had made him yearn for a happily ever after for himself in a way he never had before.

He wanted to be loved and cherished as much as he wanted to love and cherish that one special person in his life. But did he really deserve it?

He knew it was her silence that had his latent insecurities rising to the surface keeping him up at night.

So as sleep deprived as he was, he came to the office with a plan. He couldn’t bear her silence anymore so he was not going to. With everything that had come up in the office, he hadn’t been able to finish up the letter he had started to write to her. At that time, it had felt futile considering there was no way to send it to her. 

But he had a brilliant idea. He would have it published in the next installment of the Seireitei Communication including just enough information so that she would know it’s him while withholding enough details to still keep it anonymous. He could trust Hisagi-kun to be discreet.

He had a plan, and it could actually work!

If only he could actually find that bit of lavender paper he had left on his desk.

“Nanao-chan, did you remove anything from my desk by any chance?” he asked, opening up drawers and bending down to check under the desk.

Nanao looked up from the training schedule she was working on. “Nothing more than the usual paperwork. Why what have you lost now?” she asked with an overexaggerated sigh.

“My, my, Nanao-chan. You make it sound like I lose things on a daily basis.”

“The only thing lost on a daily basis around here is my sanity,” she said, rolling her eyes. Still she relented. A distressed Taicho always meant a distressed Nanao. “Fine. Describe it to me and I will tell you if I saw it anywhere.”

“It was nothing official. Just a bit of lavender paper I had been writing on…” he trailed off seeing the look on her face. “What? Did you see it?”

“You lost the letter you were writing to you Secret Admirer?” she asked.

“Nanao-chan! How did you…?”

“You forget, Taicho,” she said quite matter of factly. “There’s nothing that goes on here I don’t know about. But I haven’t seen it. Maybe it got mixed up in some paperwork and got sent to another division. I don’t think anyone would recognize your flowery handwriting which you reserve for your personal correspondence anyway. So nothing to worry about.”

Shunsui simply stared at her. He has known his little fuktaicho for too long to not notice that something was off. All this time, he thought she was just laughing at his expense because he was mooning over someone he didn’t even know. But now...that look...the way she said it without even having to think about it...it all felt fishy somehow. Nanao-chan was up to something.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” she huffed, correcting the papers on her desk that didn’t need correcting. A nervous habit that always gave her away. “If you don’t have any serious work, I have a pile of forms…”

“You know perfectly well who it is, don’t you, Nanao-chan?” he interrupted her attempts to distract him.

“I don’t know what you’re…”

“Please, Nanao-chan. It’s perfectly obvious you know exactly what I am talking about. Just...tell me…” he said.

He was so serious and intent. Nanao had only ever seen him like that in the heat of the worst kind of battle. She dropped her pretenses as well.

“She and I have both left enough breadcrumbs for you as it is. So if you’re so desperate to know who she is, why don’t you do the work to actually find out?” she asked him. “Clearly the girl cares about you but is terrified to approach you. Who wouldn’t be considering who you are and the position you hold. She is a nice girl, Taicho. But as things stand, she wouldn’t be the one to approach you so maybe you should find out for yourself who she is and do the approaching.”

So Nanao did indeed know who his Secret Admirer was. He understood her reasons why she couldn’t tell him. It wasn’t really her secret to divulge. Shunsui had to respect that despite his desperation.

“Is my sweet Nanao-chan giving her taicho dating advice?” he teased instead.

“Yes, I am,” she declared with a raised brow. “For even I can see how far you’ve fallen that you need advice from me to get yourself a date!”

Shunsui gasped, buying into the friendly teasing. “Nanao-chan is so mean to her taicho!”

Finally, they both got back to work, but Shunsui’s mind was still thinking about what Nanao had said. Apparently breadcrumbs were laid out and he hadn’t even noticed! He clearly had to pay more attention.

He tried to outline the facts in his mind. 

The letters were always lemon scented. It could be a shampoo or some kind of scented cream...but it smelled fresh, almost as if unintentional. Something to further ponder upon. 

The gifts were always elaborate but simple and he hadn’t been able to trace it through any vendor. The chocolates were handmade so his little Secret Admirer was probably very good with cooking and baking. 

The handwriting was very distinctive as well. Especially the way she looped all her Ls and Bs with a distinctive flowy curve. 

So far, the facts didn’t fit well into place to identify her as anyone he knew...but somehow, it felt like it was just barely within reach now. As if it’s only missing one final puzzle piece for the whole thing to come together.

__

That night, sleep evaded him once more. He couldn’t deny it. He missed her! He couldn’t help but wishing that she was right next to him, romancing him with more than just her words. He wished he could cherish her in all the ways he desperately yearned to.

 He took the letters he kept at hand in the drawer of his bedside table. He found that he liked to read them sometimes, and no matter how many times he read her words, they still managed to make him feel things. The shape of her words, the texture of the paper...it comforted him.

However, the sensual seductive ones were his downfall.

With all the time he has been alive, and all the experience he’s had, one would think he would be able to resist the temptation. But he often couldn’t.

Reading those letters, describing how she wanted to make love under the moonlight or how she yearned to taste him...it had him imagining soft feminine hands touching him. His hand would unconsciously reach into his hakama of its own volition and grasp his manhood, wondering what it would feel like to be touched by someone who ardently wanted to please him.

It wouldn’t take him too long at all. He would cum, gasping into the empty bedroom, wishing he had a name he could moan. Wishing she was here for him to hold.

Sated, he’d finally fall asleep. Yet though his body was satisfied, his mind wasn’t. He couldn’t help but feel alone on this big empty bed.

__

That coveted final piece of the puzzle arrived as, of all things, more paperwork. He was mindlessly flipping through some reports after lunch the next day when it popped out at him like well-lit beacon.

It wasn’t anything special. Just a request for more funds to be allocated for a better training ground for the 13th division. Except it was filled out by his beloved Secret Admirer. The handwriting screamed her identity at him, looping Ls and Bs and all.

“_____-san,” he whispered to himself, wondering how he could have missed it.

Suddenly, everything was perfectly crystal clear. 

Everyone knew that while Kuchiki Rukia settled in enough to pick her own fuktaicho, the 3rd seat of the 13th was acting in that role in an unofficial capacity, putting her in-charge of all the paperwork coming and going from that division. A reason why she was always showing up at the 1st...giving her ample opportunities to learn his habits well enough to leave behind those delightful missives without ever getting caught.

The lemon scent was from all the lemonade he knew she made for her division and for some special occasions in the seireitei. It was her specialty, a way of creating comfort and homeliness for her subordinates. He had tasted her chocolates twice - once at the Valentine’s Day party itself and then when she gifted them to him specifically. Both facts which had been pointed out by Nanao-chan while _____-san stood right next to him. No wonder she had flushed red then. It hadn’t been out of embarrassment but possibly from thinking she might get caught. The little minx.

He couldn’t help but remember every encounter he had with her in the recent past. Her cute blushes...the way she gasped out “Soutaicho!” Come to think of it, every time he saw her, he felt like she almost called him Shunsui out of habit only to change it to his official title at the last minute. He even recalled the twinkle in her eyes every time she looked up at him.

He couldn’t believe it. He finally knew who his Secret Admirer was and she’d been right before his eyes, had he only known where to look. He couldn’t help smiling, thinking about all the ways he would get back at her for running him around in circles. He would torture her so, so deliciously…

“You have that dopey smile on your face. Should I be worried?” Nanao asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Hmm…? Of course not, Nanao-chan,” he said, not really reassuring her at all. “I am heading out. Be back soon!” 

“Taicho!” she called out but he was already gone.

__

...to be continued.

__

Tags: @seawater-aurelia-writing  @xerneussenpai​ @yakuzussian-3rd @94z-93 @anywaffle @flower98child @sadhoewinter @mindyourbaynay

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[hyunjinspark]

jadeeee you’re literally serving us 5 star michelin masterpieces every damn chapter no one is doing it like you YOUR MIND 😩😩 this is hands down one of my absolute favourite things i’ve read here on tumblr dot com, everything about ch12 was just *chef’s kiss*

first of all, your writing >>>>> literally anything shakespeare has written. u could do romeo&juliet but he could NOT do slwy. your descriptions always leave me in awe and i LOVE LOVE LOVE when you include parallels between characters both within the chapter (hyun and yn with the balloon) and also linking to previous chapters (hana’s bear vs yn’s bear,,.., but more on that later bc i could literally spend HOURS analysing your use of parallels and symbolism)

i’m not even joking when i say your writing morphed into a fist and wrenched out my heart during the first scene. i’m a slut for angst but when i say that this was the tenth circle of hell 😭😭 your ability to write emotional scenes in such a heart-wrenching way is nothing short of incredible, i teared up when hyunjin attempted to explain to her why they couldn’t be together. and even though it broke yn’s heart, she knew that wishing to be anything more than hyun’s friend would mean losing him

“You’d remember how it felt for the entirety of this life, and for all of your next. You think you’d remember it in every version of you, in every world, or universe there ever was.” this is fine :) definitely not seconds away from throwing myself off a cliff :)))

“That kind of love, and adoration was foreign to you, and maybe that’s why you’d lost control just now, of your emotions, and of your actions” i’m about to reach through the screen and shower her with so much affection and love she deserves the world 🥹🥹

“Maybe you were destined to have that near-miss moment when you were younger, so you could love him when you were older” this is fine 🥹😭

HYUNYN CARING SO MUCH FOR EACH OTHER EVEN WHILST THEIR OWN HEART IS BREAKING being so so so quick to reassure each other;;; hyune reassuring her that he doesn’t regret it;; both of their first instincts being to comfort each other, you’re actually breaking my heart rn i’m too sleep deprived for this 😭

“You stupidly yearned for more, instead of being happy with what you had, and now you were going to lose him. Maybe that’s what you deserved, for not relishing in what was, and instead wishing for what could have been” god u really weren’t joking about the angst 🥲

“It’s what you always did. Chasing for a life in the city, instead of appreciating your life right now, and because of that, you’d lost your friends. Chasing for a hopeless love with him, and because of this, you would lose him” GET BEHIND ME YN I AM GOING TO FIGHT EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE THAT MAKES U UPSET

“He was comforting you, and you were comforting him, even though you were both hurt because of each other” even in the midst of all the confusion, they still care SO MUCH about each other and would rather shoulder the blame alone than to even let the other consider thinking it was their fault. when you compared this to previous arguments (esp ones with felix, where he was so quick to push all the blame on her), it makes it 100000x more depressing 🥹🥲

“He was sad… because of you” vs “Please don’t cry. I can’t… see you be sad, especially because of me” SHUT UPPP I HATE IT HERE i think a large aspect of both yn and hyunjin’s characters is that they both go out of their way to make other people happy. in yn’s case, this also leads to putting other people’s happiness above her own. the thing that works with hyunyn is that, even though they still want to make each other happy, they receive the same amount of happiness back. what makes me especially sad is that rn, they can’t bring each other happiness bc of the sudden shift in their relationship but they still do everything in their power not to make the other person sad. despite everything, it greatly pains them to think that they caused the other to be upset

“Hyunjin had kissed you, and despite the mess you were tangled in right now, you knew now that maybe...maybe you were destined to love him too” “If you two could ever be something, you would love him relentlessly, and not let a day go by where he wouldn’t know it” “But you two could never be something, so you would love him, silently” some sections of your writing resonates with me so fucking much; just know that even 50+ years from now i will be able to recite this entire section by heart

“Maybe you’d never to be able to truly love, and be loved. Perhaps you’d look for Hyunjin in every boy you met, and nobody would ever be able to come close, and it would be all your fault and you’d be looking at the stars forever, thinking of him, all by yourself” me trying to move on from hwang hyunjin but then you go ahead and pull this shit 😕😕 take responsibility for ur actions jade 😔

MINHO ALWAYS INTERRUPTING THEM I CACKLED LMAO I LOVE HIM him being an absolute sweetheart to yn 🥹🥹 AKFBJSKSBDJS I KNOW YOU KNOW LEE KNOW KNOWS FUCKING EVERYTHING LMFAO I LOVE HIM

two words: jealous hyunjin 😩😩🔥 definitely not imagining him doing the jaw thing nope definitely not imagining something that would be detrimental to my mental wellbeing haha 🫠

them being so domestic and adorable 💕🥰💗✨❤️ you’re really giving us everything this chapter ily lemme manifest hyunyn baking date into existence 🔮✨✨

“You know, there’s nothing wrong with asking for help, Y/N” He hummed, stepping up to get it for you, hand resting on your waist, fingers grazing the bare skin under your top” PEOPLE DIED.

“But, all you wanted was to make him moan under you again, and you could never do that” i– this entire chapter is just jumping between horny and angsty i am here for it 😌

THE FUCKING HICKEY IS STILL THERE HWANG HYUNJIN HOW HARD DID YOU BITE HER

minho taking her to the carnival 🥺 i just want to take this opportunity to say that i would die for lee minho 😭🥰💕💗 her friendships with him and yeonjun are very dear to me, and i hope that minho and yeonjun can be friends again bc i NEED this trio to reign chaos

they bought each other balloons….. they bough each other the SAME balloons…… yn was debating between blue and lilac and hyun bought two bc he didn’t know which colour she’d like 😭😭💔 hey universe it’s me again,,,,, i’m mentally unwell i need to lie down

LMFAOOO MINHO WAS PROBABLY LIKE WHO TF WASTES MONEY ON BALLOONS AND CARRIES THEM AROUND ALL DAY AKDHSJSKJS ENTER HYUNYN I LOVE THEMMMM UNIVERSE WHEN IS IT MY TURN TO MEET THE LOVE OF MY LIFE 😭

UMMM LETS TALK ABOUT THE SYMBOLISM OF THE BALLOONS REAL QUICK THOUGH okay so the stars represent both the glamour of idol life and the stars they saw on the hill (i.e. love)— it represents the beauty of them both. for yn, balloons = love, for hyun balloons = love + idol life (the fact that he bought two). yn was able to pick a colour, emphasising her choosing love. for hyunjin, he was unable to pick a colour, showing his love for yn but being unable to act upon it bc of his career. despite it being somewhat bothersome, they tied the balloons around their wrist and choose to carry them around. when she goes to give the balloon to him it almost floats away (like how she is prepared to stifle her feelings for him if it means she can keep him as a friend) but hyun grabs onto it and says “you almost lost it” indicating that she shouldn’t let go of the romantic feelings she holds for him. she was about to “give” the balloon (her love) to him and he “caught” it (reciprocates her feelings, HOWEVER him catching it could also be him advising her against having/expressing this as it would only end in heartbreak. he “caught” the love she has for him before it could persist)

MINHO IS SUCH A MESSY BITCH I ADORE HIM !!!! LEE MINHO AND KIM SEUNGMIN DOING THE MOST FOR HYUNYN NATION EVERYONE CHEERED

HWANG FUCKING HYUNJIN STFU SHUT UPPPPP ???! THE INHUMAN SHRIEK I JUST LET OUT OMFG I WILL NEVER RECOVER “his fingers brushed against the back of your thighs, grazing the lining of your underwear, and you felt the rush of arousal through your body, and it’s like Hyunjin felt it too, because his eyes flickered to yours, and he completely paused in his movements” THIS IS ILLEGAL also not them eye fucking each other every two minutes pray for seungmin and minho 😔😔

their little loopholes are so cute yet sad “Inside the ride, it’s like a separate world from real life, away from the public eye, when people could love, without fear” my heart just shattered into a thousand pieces

“But you want it, right?” “Yeah...I’ve always wanted it” “Then I’m gonna win it for you” me trying to accept that i’ll never have my own hyunjin yet here you are making me fall for him even more 😔

the photo-booth is their different world 🥹🥹 KAHDKSJSJQJAUDHSBB LMAO ITS STILL TAKING PICTURES WHILST THEY AKHDJSKSJDKL 😭

“What can you do to me in two minutes?” “Not enough” I– 😩😵‍💫🫠🔥 SUB HYUNJIN BEING SO NEEDY I AM OBSESSED HE IS ALWAYS ON MY MIND

hyunjin removing his shirt and guiding yn 🫠 god i am not your strongest soldier ajhdakjsjs this makeout scene was the hottest thing i’ve ever read AND THE FACT THAT THEY WERE ONLY GRINDING ??!? when they finally fuck i will no longer be on this earth you’re really coming for my throat

“Can - can we still talk about it, since it’s never gonna happen? It…it won’t do any harm, cause we’re not actually doing anything” “about me being inside you ?” “yes, please” at any given moment assume that i am still thinking about this, i will NEVER move on

“But in the photobooth, Hyunjin kissed you like he loved you, and you kissed him like it didn’t hurt” “I want to remember what it feels like to have you” i’m inconsolable and sobbing into my pillow as we speak expect a bill from my therapist 😭😭 JADE YOURE SO FUCKING SICK FOR WRITING THIS AND THEN EXPECTING TO CONTINUE WITH MY LIFE “like he loved you / like it didn’t hurt” S T O P .

he won her the bear 🥲🥲 i’m still thinking about the chapter he won hana the teddy and how she threw it away; i know that yn’s going to treasure her bear forever 🥹💔 also the fact the hyun got hana the bear at the start of their “relationship” vs he won yn the bear at the “end” of their relationship — the photo booth was the last time, it could never happen again

you’ve outdone yourself again jade ily thank you for yet another got tier chapter ❤️❤️ your writing is INCREDIBLE and literally leaves me floored every update bc HOW is even possible capture the potent, intangible forms of heartbreak & angst and turn them into a written masterpiece that straight up belongs in a museum ?? I ADORE YOU JADE THANK YOUUUU 🥰✨💗🫶🏼

— 🎐

oh my goddd 😳 this review made me so fucking happy I CANNOT even begin to explain it. first of all, thank you. second of all, THANK YOU !!!

your comment about shakespeare being unable to write slwy !!! im crying hahaha. this is the best kind of compliment ive ever received, let me print it real quick. holy shit and yes, parallels are my favorite things to explore !! so thank you for noticing all the parallels i include.

im so glad you talked about that scene, they really care way too much to even consider blaming the other person which is a heavyyyy stark contrast from yns fights with her best friends, who would instantly, without question, blame her. :( she deserves the world and hyun is basically giving it to her :(( they both definitely are people who put the happiness of others before them, and they do both need to be a little more selfish 😩

the loving him relentlessy vs loving him silently line was my favorite too so im so joyous you pointed it out and will remember it for 50 years. YOU BETTER.

horny-angst is now the new genre of my story.

but your analysis of the balloons 🎈 ….honey…i loved it so much. that was very interesting to read and i definitely did think a lot behind putting in the scene — of how yn is able to choose what to give to him but hyun is unable to. in a way it also represents that yn is, in a way, restricted, that she didn’t even think of buying both. but for hyunjin, it wasn’t even a question, he bought her both to see whatever would make her the happiest :((

so glad you enjoyed the photobooth scene and all of their little loopholes :( i love hyunyn so much. im so happy you do too.

i adore you, for spending your time on this and for telling me this 😭💕

[pilvimarja]

Drabble | Ficlet | ●●● | teen Lawrusso | adult Lawrusso |

Prompts used: "We have to get up early tomorrow." and "Come on, I know you want to."

(married couple with kids!AU, domesticity, some size kink, some dirty talk, Daniel has a thing for Johnny's pecs because don't we all?)

Daniel raised his eyes from his book at the sound of Johnny's heavy gait in the hallway.

“Are the kids asleep?”

“Out like a light,” Johnny grinned, visibly pleased with himself.

Daniel narrowed his eyes. "Really?" He'd never managed to get through the kids' bedtime routine in ten minutes. "All three of them?"

“Yeah, I gave them all a shot of whiskey and read them some choice articles from my old skin mags.”

“Johnny…”

“Come on, I read them two pages of Winnie the Pooh and they were out.” He wandered into the bathroom and pulled his shirt over his head. “You ever notice how that bear walks around half-naked?”

“Kinda reminds me of someone I know,” Daniel snorted, giving Johnny a pointed look over the rim of his glasses.

“You saying you don’t appreciate the view, LaRusso?” Johnny asked, flexing his muscles like some old-timey strongman.

Daniel rolled his eyes, because Johnny Lawrence was many things, but he sure as hell wasn’t modest, and yeah, Daniel had appreciated the view since '84.

He worried at his bottom lip, his eyes glued to Johnny’s chest as his hunk of a husband went through his nightly routine in the bathroom.

Certain individuals in his family had never warmed up to Johnny or their relationship, but his family hadn’t seen Johnny out of his shirt, so what the hell did they know.

Because Johnny had been beautiful when they met, a proper California boy with his blue eyes and golden locks and that infuriating, shit-eating, stunning smile that used to drive Daniel a little crazy. (Still did.)

The years had refined that boyish charm into something rugged and mellowed out the old Ace Degenerate, but Johnny was still big and broad where Daniel was slight, capable of picking him up and pinning him against any flat surface (but only when the kids were at Laura’s, and never anywhere near the backyard, because the old lady next door had a heart condition).

The mattress bounced under Johnny’s weight as he crawled to Daniel’s side of the bed.

"Did you use the moisturizer I got for you?" Daniel asked, swiping the pad of his finger against Johnny's sunburned—and dry—cheek.

"That stuff is from the chick aisle," Johnny scoffed.

"Come on, man. You wanna moisturize with motor oil or something?"

Johnny ignored Daniel's jab and snatched the book from his hands.

“Hey, I was reading that,” Daniel protested.

“Oh yeah. Your eyes were definitely on the book and not on my pecs,” Johnny snorted, leaning in to press a minty-fresh kiss to Daniel's jawline.

“Johnny…” Daniel adjusted his glasses and glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. "It's almost nine."

Johnny let out an amused chortle, blinking at Daniel like he'd grown an extra head on his shoulder. "It's almost nine," he echoed in a piss-poor imitation of Daniel's voice. "Since when am I married to a senior citizen?"

"Hey!" Daniel gave Johnny's shoulder a light slap. "We're the same age, asshole. And you know we have to get up early tomorrow. My Ma’s gonna whoop my ass if we’re late for her birthday party, and we're already on thin ice after that fiasco on Christmas...”

Which was unfair. Daniel obviously hadn't meant to give his very private present for Johnny to his ninety-six-year-old Nonna.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t fool around a little. Come on, I know you want to.” Johnny took hold of Daniel’s hand and brought it to his chest. “I saw you looking.” And damn if that subtle little eyebrow lift didn't work like a charm. It always did.

Daniel flexed his fingers around the curve of Johnny’s pec, and fuck, he knew exactly what Johnny had in mind. “Okay, but we definitely have to be done by nine thirty. You’ll get a migraine on the flight if you’re sleep-deprived.”

“And you’ll be a giant bitch to your relatives if I don’t get your rocks off and destressify you,” Johnny smirked, picking Daniel’s reading glasses from his nose.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not an actual word. And I don't get bitchy."

"Uh-huh." Johnny arched his brows, his smile insufferable as he gave Daniel's chest a light shove and pinned him against the mountain of pillows behind his back.

He settled between Daniel's thighs and leaned down for another minty kiss, and okay, maybe Johnny had a point. It was possible that Daniel could get a little... catty around certain members of his family.

Johnny palmed him through his pajama bottoms, watching Daniel with expectant eyes as he flexed his pecs. "Well? You gonna cop a feel or what?"

Heat pooled below Daniel's navel at the sight of Johnny’s bare chest, right there, on offer. He reached out and ran his hands up along Johnny’s flanks, through the blond hair in his armpits, a slow tease to the swell of his pecs.

He’d never been able to rationalize this thing he had for Johnny’s chest, but Johnny didn't seem to mind, happy to let Daniel feel him up.

“Come on, babe, give them a good squeeze.”

Daniel sank his fingers into the soft layer of fat on Johnny's pecs, felt the contrast with the hard muscle underneath as he thumbed at the nipples.

"Yeah, that's it." Johnny rolled his hips in a slow grind, sucking in a sharp hiss through his teeth.

He was so sensitive, the way he responded to Daniel's touch half of the appeal, but it hadn't always been like this, and that first time, at Bobby Brown's beach house, Johnny hadn't made a sound, too terrified of himself and what he wanted.

Daniel flicked his tongue over his bottom lip and gave Johnny's shoulders a demanding little pull.

"You wanna put your mouth on 'em, huh?" Johnny murmured, lowering himself down on his elbows.

"Yeah," Daniel sighed, straining against his briefs as he pressed his face into Johnny’s chest and sealed his lips around a peaked nipple.

He loved the crushing weight of Johnny's body, how his thighs were forced open around his bulk, the heat between their crotches as Johnny thrust against him. And he was making such a mess, cock leaking into the flannel of his pajamas, his chin wet with his own saliva.

“I think I’m—I’m close,” Daniel choked out, half-smothered by the swell of Johnny’s pecs.

The weight and heat of Johnny’s body disappeared, and Daniel blinked, momentarily disoriented as Johnny flipped their positions.

He yanked Daniel's pajama bottoms down to his thighs and sat him on his lap, his mouth curling up in a crooked smirk as he eyed the flushed, wet length of his cock. “Yeah, I bet you got a big load for me.” He took hold of Daniel's wrist and pulled his hand to his chest. “You wanna blow it all over these, don’t you?”

Daniel swallowed, his throat going dry as he sank his blunt nails into his own pink teeth marks on Johnny's right pec. “Please.”

“Come on, do it,” Johnny encouraged, thumbing at the slick crown of Daniel's cock. "Let it all out, babe."

Daniel hunched forward, his breath leaving his lungs in a choked out groan as Johnny stroked him closer and closer to release. "Yeah, yeah, I'm gonna—"

His knees knocked against the firm lines of Johnny's obliques and he couldn't help it. The moans burst out of his throat like foam from a shaken can of pop.

"Ah-ah-ah!"

Johnny's eyes darted to the bedroom door and he shoved his hand against Daniel's mouth. "Shh, shh, not so loud."

Daniel sank his teeth into Johnny's knuckles, his fingers flexing around his pecs as he painted them with wet spatters of white.

"Jesus... You sure you don't got an air raid siren in there instead of lungs?" Johnny chuckled, pulling his spit-slick hand away from Daniel's mouth.

Daniel blinked at him with pleasure-drunk eyes, his cheeks flaring with heat when he saw the teeth marks between Johnny's thumb and forefinger.

"Oh, John, I'm so sorry!"

"Hey, it's better than you waking the kids up," Johnny grinned, shaking his hand. "So. You feeling destressified yet?" He dragged Daniel into a lazy kiss and ground the outline of his half-hard dick against his ass. "We could go another round in the shower."

***

They made it to Lucille’s birthday party on time, and Daniel made sure Johnny wore the white polo that put all of his best assets on full display. He raised his glass of red at the unholy trinity of his Cousin Carla, Aunt Louisa and her gargoyle of a husband, and leaned over to whisper in Johnny’s ear.

“Can you flex a little?”

Johnny squared his shoulders and met the trio’s condescending gazes across the dinner table. “Sure thing, babe.”

[haechanokeh]

I’m right for you [pt. 3]

[teaser] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 2 ]

(you can play Die For You by The Weeknd while reading this 😌)

pairing: popular college! mark x average! reader

genre: romance, smut, angst, series.

warning: corruption, oral sex (both receiving and giving), cream pie, rough sex, mention of religion, rough sex, self-esteem, psychology, public sex, sub! reader, sex toys. possessive mark two-faced mark

I think I’m right for you, babe. You know what I’m thinking, see it in your eyes. You hate that you want me, hate it when you cry. It ain’t workin’ ‘cause you’re perfect and I know that you’re worth it I can’t walk away. (Die for you by The Weeknd)

today is you case presentation with mark. you were deeply affected of what happened in the cubicle but mark seemed unbothered because he was greeting you as usual. it wasn’t weird, he always greets everyone but what was really weird was your classmates. they were looking at you and it made you felt conscious, they were not saying anything but sometimes you catch them glancing at you but you brushed it off and focus on your brainstorming with mark.

yes you do dislike mark but you thank god that he's your partner. he never missed a question from your professor during case study on the other hand you're just standing beside him dumbly. you only understand the question AND the answer once mark responded. well, mark a very kind person he was, despite of answering it alone he made sure that you're included in the case saying base in y/n and my research, even lied that some are from my own research but of course not. plus, for some odd reason, your classmates' eyes were literally made you uncomfortable to the point you were having a hard time to breathe or your social anxiety attacking you. however, at the very moment, you want to give mark a tight hug for making your life easy.

the whole presentation ended. you were putting your things back to your back while standing while mark scrolling in his phone because his dad texted him asking if he could buy him some new pen. you gasped when an arm was on your shoulder, and that caught mark's attention but he hid his annoyance. 

"hey, y/n, i heard you like someone ha?" his brows were playfully raising. it was lucas, he gave mark a meaningful glance but mark smiled confusingly.

"what?" you didn't have any idea what he's telling you. 

"i heard someone saw-"

"mark!" mina suddenly appeared calling mark's name a little too loud which made lucas stop from talking. "we're going to a milk tea house, do you want to come with us?"

“y/n, come with us.” lucas pulled you closer to his body. mark was taring at lucas arm around your shoulder. you weren’t aware of mark’s expression because your mind was thinking ways to breakthrough from lucas. 

“no!” mina exclaimed. he caught everyone’s attention, and she became flustered. “i mean, we will only make her feel uncomfortable and lucas please remove your arms to y/n, she doesn’t look comfortable.” she mumbled. lucas did remove his arms from you. 

“milk tea? can we also come with you?” then the people started to surround mark. it became noisy, knowing you who’s allergic to people and noise sneaked out from the circle and left the room.

mark turned his head to look at you but you’re nowhere to be found. he sighed and forced himself to interact with his classmates.

your mother texted you that he will be away for one week because of their excursion. she left you an allowance good for one week including your meals for the whole day and transportation. you already had your dinner outside. right now you were just laying down on your favorite long sofa in your living room, watching NCT 2020 funny moments. suddenly, mark's name popped. mark is your class representative, he has access to class contacts and it wasn't that mark called you because you're always late in the class so for almost past 3 years he's the one you always contact just to inform the class that you're just late. 

wait, did i miss an announcement? you quickly left the class maybe something came up.

"hello, was there an announcement?" you directly asked

"none, just checking you. we haven't had a proper conversation awhile ago unless it's case related." 

you heart melted, he's very kind and sweet... that scares you.

"ah okay." you simply answered. it wasn't because you want to talk to him, well you really don't want to talk to him but it wasn't that he's annoying or anything- it was just you hate phone calls. you hate talking with someone in general unless it's your mom. 

"well, have you eaten yet?" he tried to save the conversation, he wanted to hear your voice longer.

"yes." it was a one-word reply. 

mark was slightly shattered because you don't seem to want to talk to him. he just thought that maybe you were tired.

"okay, goodnight."

"yeah." then you hang up. 

you returned watching youtube until you drifted into your dreamland... no it wasn't your dreamland.

you gasped and sat up as you woke from another perverted dream with mark. your chest was rising aggressively and you look down as you felt the wetness between your thighs. you raked your hands over your hair as you felt frustration and guilt. this was your second time that you dreamt of mark doing erotic things. you looked at the digital clock it was already 2 am. you groaned and stood up, you want to wash your body because the stickiness just made you feel more guilty if it stays there longer.

you entered your room and stripped, walking directly into your bathroom. you opened a warm shower and as the water trickled on your body, hands unconsciously trailing to the south. your dream was so hot, you can't lie about that. it was in the same cubicle but instead of his digits, it was his dick inside you. 

your eyes closed as you rubbed your bead slow while recalling your dream. you squeezed your left breast and imagining it was mark's squeezing it. you want something to fill your womanhood so you inserted your two fingers and thrust it. your lungs felt like being suppressed by pressure, your thrust became furious. 

"oh my- mark fuck." you moaned his name and you have never been so ashamed. it was so wrong but the feeling was so good that you weren't able to stop yourself from moaning. you felt the tension in your thighs. you knelt down and the hand that squeezing your breast was now on your clit rubbing it furiously. 

"mark! fuck right there." you felt the tension in your abdomen and your legs started to shake. your body just gave in, bending down, cheek shoved against the wet tiles while the warm water splashed on your body.

you screamed erotically, eyes rolling and lashes flickering. your legs were shaking as you reached your high.

 mark hasn't slept yet, it's okay for him because there are no classes. he was staring at the ceiling and mind preoccupied by you.

he was trying to understand why do you keep pushing him away even though you clearly wanted him too. mark did remember where you say he's very different from you, and so? what's wrong with it? what he didn't like is the thought of changing just for a single person but...

"shall i?" he chuckled bitterly. he was really close to his insanity. he feared that this affection will grow into something that is uncontrollable- like an obsession.  

he checked the time through his phone. it's 5 in the morning. he decided to jog outside, so, he took a quick shower and wore his tracksuit and running shoes. maybe if tiredness hits him, he will feel sleepy. mark already went to your house and he didn't tell you that his house is just a few blocks away from you, instead of going to his normal route, he changed it, jogging in your house direction.

when he was closed to your street, he was surprised to see you outside. he stood and admire your naturalness from afar. your hair was disheveled, your eyes weren't completely closed yet, and your face was a little puffy but it doesn't take away your beauty. plus, your cute teddy bear pajamas made him smile. he sends his gratitude to god because he created a masterpiece. 

yeah, mark is deeply in love and he thinks there's no way out of this feeling. 

you were actually waiting for your breakfast, your pancakes from mcdonalds and a warm chocolate drink. when the delivery arrived, you paid and gave him a tip for being quick. you were about to go back inside when you heard a VERY familiar voice which was owned by the person who sleep deprived you 

"Y/N!" his voice was loud, it even cracked. 

"what are you doing here?" you asked.

"morning jog, and good morning to you." he replied and greeted at the same time.

"jog.." you paused and gasped. "from your condo to here?!" you exclaimed in disbelief. mark laughed at your reaction. of course it'll shock you because you already been in his condo and if he jogged it from there to here, he was supposed to be passing out right now.

"no, my family house is actually a few blocks away from here."  he said.

WHAT?! this is not good. you thought. the more he gets closer the more he has access to your mind and body. you masked your displeased face and just nodded.

"okay, ahm. i'm heading back now. bye." you pointed at your house door and awkwardly turned your back walking towards your door.

you expected him to do something because he always do that but to your disappointment he didn't. you looked back to check if he was stil there but he was no longer standing there but you saw him jogging away from your direction. you sighed in disappoinment that made you mentally slap yourself for feeling very contradicting .

you ate miserably your affordable and favorite pancake.

mark took a bathe and go down to eat breakfast together with his parents. they prayed before eating. the cooked food by his mom made him question why your ordered delivery food for breakfast.

"how's school?" mark's dad asked him.

"good, still the same." he replied.

"your father will lead a service, you can invite your classmates. oh mina, you can invite her, she's very sweet girl." his mom said but she doesn't have any motive. she knew mark have not interest in romantic relationship as of the moment, her child was so focus in maintaining his grades and scholarship. at least, that's what he though.. if she only knew.

"i'll try." he forced a smile but behind it was growing tiredness. he knew that his classmates doesn't really want to praise but because they were so fond of mark and they just love to hang out. it defeated the purpose of going to church.

after the breakfast, mark's parent left for their work. he washed the dishes and went up stairs and stayed in his room with his music and guitar. it helped to detach his mind from thinking of you, but it was just temporary as he saw you name appeared in his phone. he almost threw his guitar just to answer your call very quick.

"y/n? why?" he sound so excited.

"ahm, mark... well.. perhaps, do you ahm, have notes from yesterdays discussion? i mean in all cases, not just ours?" you were very stuttering because of shyness. your class have long test about the cases but you're notes are everywhere and you can't understand your writings.

"yes." he said. he knew where this is going. he quickly get out from his bed and go straight to his closet, choosing shirt to wear. "do you need it? i can bring it to you."

"no, no. ahm, you do digital notes right? mind if you could send it through gdrive?" you really don't want to bother him... nah lies. you're just preventing things from happening.

mark paused for a moment and was a little hurt, he understood your statement as if you don't want to see him. but mark will not having any of that.

"it was handwritten though." he faked sorry. he hoped you didn't notice what he did there, hoping that you received it as if it was literally handwritten like directly to paper since he sounded apologetic.

"oh... i see. well, ahm, can you drop by in the house?"

mark still not satisfied by just dropping by.

"how about we study together? we can review together."

you translated it like 'the smartest in your class can help you'and that's very tempting. you can't easily study 8 cases and you need him. you used his diuretics notes in lecture, you almost aced it. now, your lab needs him.

"then, pizza is okay for you?" you whisoered from the other end.

mark secretly fist pump and grinned in triumph.

"yes."

you spayed air freshener in your living room and changed your shirt to another shirt? you only have tees just in different colors, you changed your short into black sweatpants. you made sure that your hair was far different from the hair he saw this morning. you already ordered the pizza.

the doorbell rang. your quickly opened the door for him. mark was standing, carrying his ipad and his other hand holding a two milk teas in a cup holder. he's wearing dark blue t-shirt and gray sweatpants. you smiled awkwardly and let him in. you scanned his body, looking for paper or at least a piece of paper but you didn't see any of it. mark was looking down at you, watching you observing him.

"where's your notes?" you curiously asked.

"here." he lifted his ipad. your jaw dropped.

"i thought you did not do digital notes?"

"i don't recalling telling you i didn't, i just said it was handwritten and when i saif that handwritten in my ipad." he reasoned. taht made you think later realizing that he was right and that made you dumb.

you sighed in defeat.

"by the way, bought you milk tea since you missed it yesterday." he said, you acually don't care if you missed it or not.

you walked towards the single couch and patted it.

"you can seat here." you said.

he quickly sat down and put the milk teas on top of your living room's table. he confusingly watched you when you sat on the long couch and it was the end of it. you were too far from him.

you noticed his sulking face.

"mr. mark lee, what's with your long face?" you chuckled teasingly.

"why are you too far from me?" he pouted.

"damage control." you replied shortly and get your case 3 notes which is very illegible to read. "can i borrow your case 3?"

"why? what did i do?" mark asked was clueless. he did not pay attention to your question

"mark, being alone with you is not healthy anymore." you directly answered him.

"orgasm is healthy, what do you mean?" mark didn't get your.

"mark, that's not what i mean. we're like horny teenagers doing unappropriate things."

"we're already passed in that phase in life, we're both adults." he rebutted.

you mentally face palmed yourself in frustration. why is he so smart and dumb at the same time.

"mark, that's not why i mean. we're being to touchy, every time we are left alone the next thing we knew we're touching each other. do you know how scary was that to me? it only happened twice but i am already longing for more! when i don't feel your touches i go craaazy! i even touched myself for freaking 2-" you froze when you realize what you were telling him you stared blankly at him.

on the other hand, mark was very pleased hearing you exploded from frustration as you became honest for the first time.

"you touched yourself? what 2?" he smirked and lifted his brows.

you cleared your throat.

"can i borrow your ipad? i need your case 3." you murmured and look anywhere but him your face heat up. you want to be swallowed by your favorite sofa.

"then get it."

you look at his ipad sitting on his manly wide spread apart thighs. your eyes stared at the mark that makes your knees weak and wet pussy. his fiery eyes looking directly toyou while he was sitting comfortably on the couch and arms are both in each side of the armrest.

"mark lee, i need it." you tried to use your stern voice but failed because your voice was too small.

"i told you, you can get it.. here." he glanced at his ipad.

you gulped and the living room's air became thick. your submissive self switched on and you just found yourself walking towards him. your hands felt cold as you reached for his ipad. when you lifted it, his bulge forming in his gray sweatpants made you almost drool. you were reminded how fucking hot it was.

you want to touch it and do anything you can possibly could but your single rational braincells keeping you in the light.

"you don't seem sure of what you really wanted to do." he snapped you from overthinking. "should i make you choices?"

"what?" you asked confusingly but your voice was shaking.

"you bring that ipad with you and go back to where you were sitting, or..." he looked up to you with his dark eyes, leaning a little forward you trace the side of your hips with his palm..

"put the ipad on the table and sit in my lap."

mark knew that you can never say no at this state. if you could only see how your body shivered and how defeated your face was, he knew you already gave in.

and his was right.

the original draft was deleted because of my stupidity 😭 idk think this is good as the original draft.

hello, some of you asked me if i have a tag list, i will be creating one.

✨if you want to be added in I'm Right For You Tag List, you can DM or Ask me so i can add you ✨

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢

Tag List:

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anyways, i would like to say thank you for supporting this story. i did not expect some of you will like it. i also want to thanks people who leaving message through dms and ask praising this story. also to those nctzens hearting it 🥺🤗

[eideticmemory]

FINE LINE 3 | SPENCER REID

Two decades of history and two kids later, you and your ex-husband learn to navigate the world of co-parenting. Part 3! Read Part 2 Here!

If you saw typos, no you didn’t ❤️

Word Count: 3,165.

Warning: Daddy issues, mommy issues, angst, romance, drama, yay!

PART 3: EDEN

Eden Penelope Reid was conceived on the twenty-sixth of September, on a ugly, yellow couch in the BAU briefing room. Not two feet from the roundtable! You didn’t mean for it to happen. The sex . . . or the baby. But they were both the result of a dark, disturbing case, sleep deprivation, a long plane ride back to DC, and an encounter in a dark room after everyone had gone home. 

Spencer placed a long and slimy kiss to your lips, almost like he had been holding it from you for days. You stepped back, jolted, and you would’ve fallen backwards had Spencer not had his arms around you. 

“What on earth are you doing?” you whispered, your voice still laced with shock and surprise. 

“Wha — what do you mean . . . ?” Spencer asked, genuine confusion plastered over that pretty face of his. “I thought that’s why we came in here?” 

“Oh, my goodness, I came in here to grab my things and go home, Hugh Hefner, where is your mind?”

“My mind’s on you,” he murmured, nuzzling your body into his, pressing his lips to your cheek. “Always.”

“Hm,” you hummed, your eyes fluttering closed as he gave you a dreamy kiss. “You’ve always had that verbal thing . . . quick mind, soft lips. You could talk your way into anything, Spencer Reid.”

“Yeah?” he mumbled, his lips pressed feverishly  to yours. “Anything?”

“Yeah . . . anything.” 

Stepping out of the shower and drying off, surrounded by the scent of fresh lavender, you wrapped yourself in a cotton towel. Your outfit was laid across the bed, from the top to the pants to the black flats. It felt a little morbid, as if you were staring at a dress made for a funeral. But, God, let’s face it, you’re just being dramatic. 

You tied your hair up, and dropped the towel to your toes, warmth caught under the surface. As you took your shirt between your fingers, your bedroom door swung open with an intense creak, and you jumped out of your skin. 

“Ah!” You screamed, hugging the fabric against your body, crouching down to hide any and every inch of your figure. “Spencer!”

“Whoa!” He crowed, immediately backing out of the room. “Sorry!”

“What the hell?” You shouted. You hugged the shirt, pressing it to your chest, your torso, one arm outstretched to cover your legs. 

“I’m sorry, [y/n], I thought you were dressed!”

“Yeah, right . . . pervert. What are you doing here? I’m meeting you at the office in an hour.”

“I told you I was dropping by in the morning.”

“So?”

“So . . . here I am.”

“Sorry, I’m just not used to you being somewhere when you say you are, my mistake.” 

He shook his head to himself, chin ducked down to avert his eyes, “I came to ask if you’d like a ride this morning? After we drop the kids off?”

“A ride?” You responded, quickly dressing yourself to maneuver an icky, uncomfortable situation. “We’re carpooling to therapy?”

“If you want,” he shrugged. “Thought we could get breakfast, maybe.”

You scoffed, and rolled your eyes as you marched towards the door. Prepared to confront Spencer with a bit of sass and sarcasm, you were taken aback by the sight of him. Early in the morning, hair perfectly curled around his face, and he was dressed in a wrinkle-free, perfectly pressed black suit. Like the ones you used to buy for him, just to see the way he moved in them. 

“I think I’ll pass,” you told him. “I told the kids I’d take them to school today, and they’ve already got their hearts set on getting Dunkin’ this morning, so . . .”

“So, I’ll see you at the office,” he nodded, solemnly. 

You returned the nod with a gentle motion of your head, and as you turned to walk off, Spencer aligned beside you, ultimately following you through the hall. “You look good,” he said. You didn’t respond, just released a silent exhale while focusing your attention forward. “It’s nice to know that . . . some things are still as nice as I remember.”

You laughed -- head thrown back, mouth open, the sound erupting like a volcano. “It’s not,” you explained, looking him in the eye as you approached the stairs. “It’s better.”

Four weeks after Eden Penelope Reid was conceived, you were in Texas, a small town outside of Austin haunted by a head of murders throughout the area. You can’t remember specifically what the town was called because you were so, fucking, sick. You woke up with a headache, nausea threatening to spill by the second, and a stomach ache that wouldn’t kick it. It was bad. 

But you know how to put on a Brave Face. You pushed through, even with your husband’s voice echoing in your ear, close to your ear, his worried hand on your back. 

“[y/n],” he pleaded. “You’re sick, just — please.”

“Spencer, I’m fine. I’m up, I’m walking, that’s a good sign. I’m okay.” 

You visited a crime scene not fifteen minutes later. It was hot, very hot, suffocatingly hot, and you felt yourself. You felt yourself wobble on your heels. Felt the life just fall out of you, like gravity had sucked it into the Earth. Spencer called your name as your body fell. 

“Mom?” E called, the sound of the traffic blending in with her voice. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, hun,” you glanced at her, balancing your attention between E and the road. “Why?”

“You’ve been hitting your juul more than usual lately,” she explained. 

“What?” you gasped. “No, I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have. You’re driving with it in your hand right now!”

“On average, mom hits the juul 16 times an hour, but she’s just hit it seven times in the last five minutes,” Em added from the backseat.

“There. Statistics to back me up,” E gloated. 

“I’m fine!” you laughed. “Really. I’m more than fine.” 

“Really? So the sudden nicotine uptake has nothing to do with your super secret meeting with dad this morning?” E asked. 

“It is not a super secret meeting, it’s two parents, meeting for a discussion.” 

“Right . . . not secret at all.” She nodded. 

You sighed, “A secret is an awful thing to keep. You can ask your Aunt Emily about that one, but, you know I’d never keep a secret from you,” you smiled. 

“Right,” she nodded, suspicious at your sudden change in tone. “You sure you’re not keeping a secret, mom?”

“Are you profiling me?”

“Okay, enough with the profiling jokes.” 

“No. Why? Are you keeping a secret from me?” you piqued. It’s been buried. For almost a week now. E, and the boy, as you call him. For a few days, you just needed solitude, time to process and understand. After that, came the confrontational period, well, as confrontational as you get with Eden. Which means you dropped subtle hints until she just thought you were being weirded than usual. But now, she had reason to be suspicious that you were suspicious, and two suspicious Reid women don’t make a mix.

“No?” She responded, slowly, her eyebrow raising at you. “Why?”

“No?” You paused to take a breath. “Okay.” “What does that mean?” “Nothing.”

“Do you know something I don’t?” E asked, her arms now crossed over her chest. Not good. She’s defensive. E’s never defensive.

“See, that’s just the same as the secret thing we had going earlier,” you joked.

“Ugh,” E groaned. 

“What?”

“You always get like this,” she shook her head.

“Like what?” “Like this when dad comes around!”

You stopped the car, the brakes skidding to a halt at the school entrance. “Are you -- E, this isn’t about your dad, this is . . . about that boy. That boy that kissed you at your party. The boy who kissed my sixteen year old daughter on the cheek.” “What?” E snapped, sitting up in her seat.

Em slid out of the car, ran to class.

“I mean,” you rambled. “ I have an eidetic memory, E, I can’t unsee that!”

“See that . . . ?“ she whispered to herself. You could see the wires clicking in your head.  Her eyes widened, “You saw that? You saw --” She began to pack up her stuff, scrambling really, grabbing her iced coffee. 

“E --” you stuttered. “What are you doing? Hey, hey, talk to me.” “I’m late for school, mom, I’ll text you.”

“E --”

“Bye.” you were cut off by the sound of the  car door slamming in your face. If ‘what the fuck?’ could be a facial expression, you were wearing it right now. 

You had a concussion when the doctor told you about Eden Penelope Reid. You had fallen on the concrete, and couldn’t really see straight. You felt Spencer though. He was holding your arm and supporting your wobbling body with his since you’d hoped straight out of the hospital bed. 

“Congratulations, Mrs. Reid,” The doctor smiled at you.

“Huh? What? Congratulations?” You slurred, tired and confused and looking to your husband. 

“Oh, I’m . . . sorry, I thought of you . . .” After exchanging glances with Spencer, she sighed and beared another grin. “You’re . . . pregnant. About five weeks along.”

You fainted. Again. 

“Hey,” Spencer greeted you, following your fast footsteps with his eyes. 

You rounded the edge of the couch and took a seat beside him, huffing as you plopped down, only to give him a glance of acknowledgement.

“You’re late, I thought you got lost,” he said.

“Nope, just took the scenic route,” you grumbled. “Hi, I’m [y/n],” you directed at the therapist sitting across from you. She wore dark red lipstick and a matching blouse, her nails a deep purple over her slacks. Okay. Cool.

“Olivia Oliphant,” she nodded kindly. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Reid.” “Oh, just [y/n], please,” you told her. 

“Well, [y/n], Spencer here was just telling me about your kids.”

“Oh?” You looked at Spencer. “He was?”

“Yep, Eden and Emerson, beautiful names. How did you guys pick them?” 

When you were approximately five weeks pregnant with Eden Penelope Reid, you felt the most excruciating pain of your life. That’s including two rounds of childbirth, some beatings, a bullet wound.  You clamp down on your lower stomach, grasping for air as you collapsed to the floor, in the middle of a crowded police station. Penelope rushed to your side, calling your name, “Oh, my goodness, [y/n], what’s wrong? What’s wrong?” “I don’t --” you whimpered. “Something’s not -- ow! -- something’s not right!” Local PD helped you to your feet, a worried Garcia following behind them. “C--call Spencer!” You pleaded, although the phone was already to her ear.

Spencer had just been shot in the neck. 

They didn’t think he was going to make it. They didn’t think he was going to make it. You beat Derek, pounding your fists into his chest for not telling you sooner, broke down in the center of the waiting room.

But he did make it.

He made it, and he was right here. He was right here, and you were right here, and E was at school, mad at you, and it was eating you alive. Did you completely undo your ‘cool mom’ reputation with one meltdown? No, how could you? 

“[y/n]?” Dr. Oliphant called. 

You zoned back into reality, both Spencer’s and her concerned faces focused in on you. 

“Yes,” you cleared your throat. “Well, Eden is named after East of Eden by John Steinback, and . . . Emerson is named after Ralph Waldo Emerson.” 

“And,” she began. “Would you say your kids are your main reason for being in therapy?”

“Oh, wow, okay, just jumping into it, got it,” you huffed. 

Spencer was still eyeing you, worried and troubled. He knows you. He knows when you’re upset, and stressed, and he couldn’t stop staring at your nails. “Uh . . .” you hummed. “Hm? . . . hm? Would I say that there’s any other reason I’m in therapy for sixty minutes with my ex-husband? No.”

“[y/n].” Spencer spoke, turning his body full to you. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, nothing,” you shook your head. 

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “ I haven’t heard that one before.”

“Yes, yes, yes, you’d ask what’s wrong, and I nothing’ed my way through our marriage and we got divorced. I know.” 

“Jesus,” he sighed, exasperated, pressing his palm to his forehead. 

An awkward silence floated throughout the room for what felt like hours. You stared at your shoes, and huffed. Lifting your head up to smile at Dr. Oliphant, you said, “And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

There was an earthquake in California the day Eden Penelope Reid was born. A magnitude of four. This would not have mattered in the slightest -- due to the fact that you were on the other side of the country -- but Spencer was there. In California, sitting in the dark, surrounded by broken glass when Eden was born. 

She came at night, after your water broke at the BAU headquarters. You spent hours of the day stumbling around a hospital room, waiting for Spencer to show. Penelope’s quick with a phone, she knew hours before you finally asked her.

“Penelope?” You whimpered, curled up in the bed with your hand pressed to your back. 

“Yes?” She pipped.

“Spencer’s not coming . . .” you turned to her. “Is he?”

“We’ve got to talk.”

You glanced over your shoulder, rolling your eyes, “Spencer, please.”

“[y/n], come on,” he pleaded. 

You looked him in the eye, sighing as you leaned back in your seat. You could hear the kids shuffling around upstairs, having just been dropped off by Spencer, who was stern and pressed. It was kind of funny. 

“I was in a bad mood,” you told him.

“Bad mood? [y/n], you sat there for forty-five minutes sipping your coffee every time Dr. Oliphant asked you a question so you couldn’t talk with a full mouth.”

“Bad mood . . .” you repeated, this time quieter, softer, to yourself. 

Spencer’s expression softened, almost instantly. “[y/n]?” he called. “What happened? You’ve been biting your nails, I know something’s wrong.”

You crumbled. You ran yours hands over your face and sobbed. From that moment Spencer and you saw E with that boy, you’ve been reliving it over and over. Trying to recognize his face, and it wasn’t until just last night that you realized it’s . . . Spencer. This boy looks just like Spencer, and you can’t even figure out how you feel about Spencer, -- who you didn’t meet until you were 23, by the way -- let alone this kid.

So how is E doing? How is she already so comfortable around him? And kissing. Have they kissed before? You don’t want to know. No. You do want to know. It’s all you want. You want the most important girl in your life to talk to you, to confide in you the way she did when she was seven years old. But now she’s sixteen and she won’t even look at you. 

“And of course, I found a way to blame it on you,” you paused to breath after a long rant. “Because, well, you’re here, which is still weird to me, but hey,” you shrugged, inhaling a hit from your juul. 

Spencer nodded his head understandingly, biting down on his to contain a smile. “Now, that . . . is how you should’ve spoken in therapy this morning.” He laughed. 

You chuckled, for the first time all day, and rolled your eyes, “Next time.”

“Next time?” He grinned. After connecting his eyes to yours, and seeing a glimmer of confirmation, he sat up, “Well, okay, cool. Then, next time I’ll tell you that you are the best mother on the planet. Raising the kids the way you did . . . you made Eden who she is. You made that incredible girl, and you shaped her into the slightly . . . stubborn girl she is today. She is her mother’s daughter, she just needs someone to push past the hardhead every once in a while.”

You exhaled, a slow, steady breath.

Spencer.

He stayed until Sunday afternoon. Just like he said he would. A whole day after you wandered into E’s room, full of fresh courage and love. You asked her if she was hungry, and she said no. By the time you left, you had a name. Sullivan.

“Sullivan?” You repeated. “Does he go by Sully?” You cackled.

“When he was six!” She shouted, a fit of giggles dribbling from her lips. “He goes by Van now.” “Oh, my goodness,” you feigned as though you were collapsing on the bed. “Van?”

“Yes! Hey, don’t judge! You married a guy named Spencer.”

“[y/n]! [y/n]? [y/n] --” Spencer’s voice lowered to immediately silence the moment he stepped into the room. Under the hospital lights, you laid on a bed, a tiny baby in your arms and a soft smile on your face.

“Don’t be shy now,” you giggled. “Come in.”

He stepped into the room, slowly, his breath shaky from running down the halls. “I--is, is this her?”

“No, I misplaced the actual baby, so they gave me a very life-like doll,” you smirked.

“Oh, baby,” he cooed, placing a million and one kisses to your forehead. “You’re incredible, you did -- incredible,” he held you close, looking down at the infant against your chest. “So, what’s her name? You did remember to pick one, didn’t you?”

“Yep, UnSub --”

“[y/n] . . .” he smiled.

You laughed, holding your child up to her father. “This . . . is Eden Penelope Reid.”

Spencer didn’t come out of his room for hours before he was set to leave on Sunday. As worried as you were, you kept to entertaining the kids in the living room. The two of them were snacking on some popcorn, watching a movie on netflix. Em was tucked underneath your arm, and you did your very, very best to focus in on the TV. But the moment you heard the hinge of his bedroom door, you sat up in your seat. 

He came down the steps in a stomping rage. Didn’t even come in to join you all, just called for you, “[y/n] . . . [y/n], can you come here, please?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, and stood to your feet, nervously eyeing the kids. “Be right back,” you told them, before walking out into the foyet. 

“Okay . . .” Spencer said, just above a quiet whisper. “Okay, okay . . .” He was trying to calm himself down. Pacing, muttering, hands on his hips.

“Spencer?” You walked up to him. “Hey, what’s the matter? Hey . . .”

“I’ve had . . . some time to process, some time to fully understand the information, but I know that you, haven’t, so I’m going to get to it . . . Catherine Adams is being injected tomorrow.”

Crickets. Silence. No sobs, no boo-hoos, nothing. “And?” You replied. “Are we throwing a party? Because that can be arranged.”

“And in exchange for her cooperation in multiple homicide investigations . . .” Spencer sighed, his head ducked down, hands in his pockets. “She gets a final request.”

You scoffed, rolled your eyes, “What does she want now? A night with you at the Ritz? Just give it to her at this point so she’ll kick the bucket.” 

“She wants to see Eden.”

“Wha --” The sound slipped out before you could catch it. Thoughts. Thoughts. Thoughts. So many. And all you could say was, “No. Absolutely-fucking-not . . . fuck!”

“[y/n] --”

“The psycho who had my daughter kidnapped wants to . . . meet her? She can go straight to hell, and suffer on the way there.” 

And that was the moment, Eden Penelope Reid stepped into the doorway, her hands stern at her side, her face brazen with courage and strength, “I want to do it.”

[imakemywings]

ship ask meme for Nerdanel/Fëanor?

Ship Ask Meme

Oh, happy to tackle these two ο(=•ω＜=)ρ⌒☆

falls asleep on the couch

Nerdanel. This is only because if Feanor is going to fall asleep somewhere he shouldn't, it will be his workbench. Both of them are devoted to their craft, so it's not unusual they wear themselves out, and Feanor especially is terrible about pushing himself well beyond the norm of sleep deprivation to work on something.

makes friends with the neighbors

Nerdanel, only because it definitely isn't Feanor. Feanor does not care to talk to their neighbors, he doesn't want to hear from their neighbors, he does not want to be disturbed by their neighbors. Fortunately, as they live in the royal palace, their only real neighbors are his family. Unfortunately, he does not get along with most of his family.

Nerdanel isn't especially gregarious either, but she can at least manage a surface level of politeness. But there are reasons she's not close with Anaire or Earwen.

is the adventurous eater

Feanor, because he'll basically eat whatever you put in front of him if he's looking to get back to something else. The only time he really whines about what he's eating is when he's being petulant. Nerdanel is not generally an adventurous eater; she has a few stock meals she makes and rarely ventures outside that because it's just easier to do it this way, and she's not a fan of cooking.

hogs the covers at night

I want to say Feanor, and also sakasakiii has a hilarious comic about this.

forgets to do the dishes

Feanor, although it's not so much that he "forgets" as that he has other things to do, and they have seven kids--there is definitely someone else whose time is less valuable who can do the dishes. But not Feanor. He's busy.

Needless to say when Nerdanel ends up doing several days' worth of dishes, she is less than pleased.

When Nerdanel goes off about the state of the kitchen, all seven boys will complain that no one told them they were supposed to do the dishes! Jeez amme, are they supposed to read minds?

tries to surprise their partner more often

Feanor. He makes stuff for Nerdanel all the time, so she's regularly getting gifts "just because" and even though a lot of it is jewelry and she doesn't wear a lot of jewelry, she keeps it all. Often, he inscribes something on what he gives her, so she hangs onto it for that.

He's also more spontaneous than her in general and more likely to pull her out of her workshop or some artisans' meeting as if there's something important going on, only to cajole her into going riding out past the city limits or going swimming or otherwise skipping out on their responsibilities.

After he left Aman, she didn't know what to do with it all, and ended up having several cupboards solely devoted to things Feanor had given her that she couldn't bear to sell, and some of it she destroyed when feeling particularly aggrieved.

leaves dirty laundry on the floor

Nerdanel. If she's worked especially late or is just worn out, she'll strip off her work clothes and leave them where they fell to go wash and change. Feanor regularly picks these things up for the laundry, but he doesn't mind doing it.

stays up til 2 AM reading

Feanor. He is the absolute worst about getting sucked into whatever he's doing and completely losing track of time. He has definitely worked straight through important events before (he should consider himself grateful Elves stop counting birthdays after they reach the age of majority, and don't celebrate annual memorials like wedding anniversaries). Fingolfin more than once has had to run down and pull Feanor out of the forge to be present at some event the crown prince is supposed to be present for (not that showing up covered in grease with his hair a mess is winning him big points with Finwe and Indis, nor is the failing to pay attention because he's still working through schematics in his head).

Nerdanel regularly has to go remind him to actually get some sleep.

sings in the shower

I don't think either of them is huge on it, but between the two of them, probably Nerdanel. Either of them is a lot more likely to do this if they have one of the babies with them, but I just don't see Feanor as a big singer, at least by Elf standards.

takes the selfies

Feanor. He's not obsessive about it, but he would definitely pose with his latest works in progress or creations to show them off. Once in a while he'll take one of him wearing jewelry he made, which is ostensibly the reason for the photo. Sometimes the kids pose with him.

Nerdanel might take pics of her works too, but the most you're likely to get of her is her reflection in a window or a hand or foot as she tries to get a good angle on the sculpture. She does show up in the selfies of other Finweans.

plans date night

Feanor. Nerdanel definitely does not go in for date planning. She is super casual about dating, so she was always kind of blown away by the stuff Feanor would plan for them, and this had a role in his winning her over. He definitely puts together some pretty extensive date night activities and he feels pretty good about himself when he manages to impress Nerdanel so he has incentive to keep it up.

[chubbymoongoddess]

TW: Mentions of mpreg, slavery, rape and stockholm syndrome.

if this isn't your thing, don't read it. This is also set in modern times.

Longer version.

Omega Jm born into a royal family, making him the prince. It's rare for male omegas to be born, so he's extra special. The more he grows over the years, the more beautiful he gets. He literally has every man and woman in the kingdom wanting him by the time he's 21. Not only is he gorgeous, but he's humble as well and his kingdom loves him for that just as much as they love him for his beauty. Jm takes to time to greet and speak to everyone he can on his outings, making sure to listen to any complaints they may have so he can relay them to his father. Literally the definition of an angel.

Well, one night he goes on an unsupervised outing. Everything goes well until he's on his way to return home. It's late and the streetlamps are really the only lights on so it's not that easy to see. One minute Jm is conscious and well aware of what street he's on and the next he's out cold, body being hauled into a windowless, unmarked van. Of course this would happen on the one night he decided to sneak out by himself. He should have known better.

He wakes up with a massive headache in a cold, damp stone room, much like a cell, with shackles on his feet and wrists, the ones on his feet being connected to the wall. His breathing is heavy as he's terrified and it only accelerates as the door to the room opens, a strange man he's never seen before walking in with an annoying smirk on his face.

"Well, well, our gorgeous prince finally awakens."

Jm backs up against the wall as much as he can, voice shaking as he speaks. "W..Who are you? Where am I? Why.. Why are you doing this?"

The man just laughs, moving over to Jm, grabbing his chin between his thumb and forefinger. "You're very sought after. I'd be stupid if I didn't try to catch you. You're going to sell for a very high price."

He was terrified before but those words make Jm's blood run cold. Fuck.. Fuck he had been captured by slave traders. If he was sold he knew he'd most likely fucking die after being tortured and abused for god knows how long. The only thing he could think to do was to plead for his life.

"No!! No please! I..If you let me go I.. I can get my father to pay you anything you want! Just please let me go!" There were tears in his eyes and his voice was wavering, bottom lip quivering as he tried not to sob.

The man just laughed, letting the omega's face go as he moved back toward the door. "The only thing I'll get if I let you go is sent to prison. What, do you think I'm stupid? Shut up and get some rest. Tomorrow is the auction day and I won't have you looking like some sort of sleep deprived zombie." and with that, he left, leaving Jm alone to sob himself to sleep on the hard stone floor.

Morning comes and jm is taken to a large room filled with seats with a single, circular stage in the middle. He watches as one by one, different people of different ranks and genders are auctioned off, until it's finally his turn and he's dragged up onto the stage by the shackles. He stands there as men start placing bids on him almost immediately. It doesn't seem to ever stop and jm just wants to go home. His attention is diverted when a man, obviously an alpha by his build, jm can't make his scent out in this room, stands up, offering more than 70 million usd for him. It's over then. the auction is won as nobody else wants to bid higher. Jm is led off of the stage and into the back room to meet with the man who bought him. He'll admit, he's pretty handsome, but that thought shouldn't even be running through his mind right now. The man doesn't ask his name. He knows who he is. They all know who he is. All the man says to Jm is "I'm going to have so much fun with you."

The omega is transported back to the alpha's home and luxurious doesn't even begin to explain how nice his house is. It's basically a mansion surrounded by massive, well kept gardens and fountains. Jm swears he hears a horse whinny in the distance. On his ride there, he's told what he will be used for. Sex and feeding. It scares the fuck out of Jm and he starts to try to get out of the carriage. He does NOT want this. There's no way he's ever going to want this! The alpha just grabs him by the hair and yanks him back. He's have made it a few steps away if the alpha wasn't so quick. Once he's shown his room, which is no more than a bedroll on the ground in the dungeon, he's explained the rules and what the alpha expects of him. He answers with a bitter "yes sir."

He's given an hour or two to "settle in" before the alpha comes back with servants wheeling in a little cart full of food. He hasn't eaten in a while so he is hungry, but only eats until he's full. After refusing a few times, the alpha forces his mouth open and forced the rest of the food into his mouth, leaving Jm with a bloated stomach that renders him too full to move. It's then that the alpha commands him to undress and get into "presenting" position. Jm panics. He's too full to even fucking move and he really doesn't want this alpha inside of him. He pleads, struggles even, but the alpha has had enough of the omega's resisting so he forces him into the position himself. Jm blocks out everything that happens next. All he knows is that he fought as hard as he could the whole way through.

This goes on for months with jm resisting and fighting back each time. It has resulted in him having a few black eyes, bruises littering his body. He hasn't gained any weight because he purges everything he eats when the alpha leaves him alone for the night. In fact, he's lost weight because of it. It results in more beatings. He doesn't want to give in, his will is strong and he keeps telling himself that he'll fight until the day he dies. That is until he finds out that he's carrying a pup. It was bound to happen, he had gone through a heat not too long ago and the alpha was in his "room" non stop. Things changed then as Jm's world came crumbling down. He couldn't continue to fight when there was a pup inside of him. He couldn't bear to have it hurt, despite it being his rapist's spawn. The next time the alpha comes in, Jm just looks up at him and opens his mouth. There's not much light in his eyes and the alpha notices. He asks what's going on and Jm reluctantly tells him. The prince has never seen the alpha's face light up the way it does at the news. Before he gets too ahead of himself though, he asks if Jm is going to be good from now on to which the prince quietly nods. The alpha is pleased with this and unshackles Jm from the wall, leading him out of the dungeons and down one of the many long hallways in the mansion. He's lead to a large bedroom, furnished with all sorts of things from bookshelves to a large tv hanging on the wall with a soft looking couch in front of it. There's a bathroom attached to the room as well. The only thing that Jm can really focus on is the bed.

He immediately starts to tear up, moving toward it. At first the alpha thinks he's going to try to run for it and he starts to reach for Jm's hair to yank him back but when he notices that he's moving toward the bed, he stops, watching as the omega carefully sits on it. It's been months since he's been inside of an actual room like this and all he wants to do is sleep. He asks the alpha if it's okay to which he responds a simple "after I'm finished with you." Of course it would be like that. Jm nods with a sigh and lets everything happen as normal, only this time, when the alpha is finished, he unshackles Jm, taking them in his hand and leaves, locking the door behind him. For the first time in months, Jm doesn't purge and he takes a shower before falling asleep.

Four months down the line, Jm is a different person. He's only been smacked a few times in the face since he's found out he's pregnant. After the last slap two weeks ago, he hasn't acted out since. He does his very best to keep "his alpha" happy, referring to him as master, owner..even my alpha . This has had him rewarded multiple times with things he asks for. Certain foods, games, anything to keep his mind busy when he's alone. He's thought about asking to call his family once, but decided against it as he knew he'd get punished for even suggesting it. Due to all of the stuffing the alpha made him do and since he was no longer purging, Jm had gained and it had definitely begun to show. He only ever wore robes anymore but he could feel how his ass bounced as he walked, could feel his thighs rub together more, there was even a bit of pudge on his stomach that wasn't caused by the pup. It.. It oddly felt.. good?

Jm exhaled and quickly shuffled into the bathroom to look at himself. His stomach wasn't very big yet but there was a rather noticeable bump and as he ran his hands over it, he bit his lip. The moment he turned around to look at his ass in the mirror though, he started to leak slick. It only got worse as he reached back to smack himself, watching his cheeks jiggle. He figured he had some time before the alpha came back so, he leaned back against the sink, groaning as he felt his ass spread against it slightly. He started to stroke himself, whimpering and keeping his noises to a minimum, lest anyone would hear. somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew this was wrong. He knew he shouldn't be feeling this way, but at the moment, he really could not care less. He came harder than he had ever came before after a few moments, panting heavily as he rested back against the sink. He began to wonder if he'd get more praise and rewards if he continues to gain and bare offspring for his alpha. He'd have to possibly ask the next time he came in. The prince cleaned himself and the mess he made up and went to sit on the bed to wait.

When his alpha came in, he found Jm sitting on his knees with his hands on his thighs. He raised a brow at the omega, moving over to stroke his cheek. He asks what's going on and Jm asks him about everything that's on his mind, promising he'll be a very good boy if the alpha agrees to this. His alpha is taken aback, honestly. He agrees almost immediately and explains that this is what he has bought Jm for. The omega nods and immediately crawls closer, opening his mouth for the food that his alpha had brought him. He was going to be the best boy possible from now on.

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

In my mind I see Jm getting to be about 450-500lbs in this. Still very mobile despite his weight. He essentially gives this alpha quite a few offspring, enjoying it each time. He eventually "falls in love" with this alpha, falls in love with how he is a servant to him. Loves the way the alpha makes him do certain things like crawling on his hands and knees, begging for his food or his alpha's cock sometimes. There's no dumbification really in this either. Jm is just tired of being beaten and he falls in love with.. feeling how big he's gotten and enjoys all of the belly rubs and groping his alpha gives him. He's able to see his pups, though not much. I kind of had an idea of this alpha eventually agreeing to let Jm see his family once as well. Idk.

[chrisbangs]

Hi everyone! Here I am (late as always) but just in time to shower you all with a lil appreciation and love, because after this year, I think we all need it! (Apologies in advance for all the typos I will be making- no I will not proof read this <3)

I just wanted to start off by saying: thank you so much to everyone who has talked to me, become my friend, been kind to me, followed me, supported my content, throughout this year. To anyone who’s ever interacted / complimented / rb’d / liked my gifs and my gfxs, it means the world and I am so grateful and thankful to you. I honestly hit several milestones throughout this year and I just feel so in awe of how many people have supported me. I know 2020 wasn’t kind to many people, but I really did suffer a lot this year, and having people by my side who made me laugh and smile and feel special, made all the difference. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for everything.

Happy New Year to all my mutuals, followers, and people I follow! Thank you for making this terrible year, not so terrible. 

With all my love, Li / Moon! 🖤🌙🐺

@00hj 🌙 // @2miin // @3noracha 🌙 // @914m // @agibbng // @avocadomin // @bangchans // @banghans 🌙 // @bestiez 🌙 // @binnies 🌙 // @blueprintskz // @binminseok // @changbeanie // @felixies 🌙 // @go-saeng // @hanjin // @huiracha 🌙 // @hwjins // @hyunjins 🌙 // @hyunjinz // @hyunknow // @hyunnie 🌙 // @innielove // @inracha // @jeonginx // @ji-sungs // @jinlix // @jisquish 🌙 // @jypestraykids // @leeknown // @leeminho-s // @leemvnho // @luvknow // @minhos 🌙 // @mydays 🌙 // @ontracc 🌙 // @realstraykids 🌙 // @saintmilky 🌙 // @seoschangbin // @seungminhos 🌙 // @seungminsmile // @strayhags // @straylov 🌙 // @sunnykids // @tightenmydoubleknot // @tuanzie 🌙 // @uayv 🌙 // @wonstal // @yangjeongin // @yangjeonginz 🌙 // @youngke

(If there’s a lil 🌙 by your name, I left a little extra message for you under the cut! Sorry I couldn’t do this for everyone, but please know I love all of you so much and am grateful for the things you bring to my dash!)

@00hj: Karen! Hi angel!!! You’re probably one of my first stay friends which is crazy to me ; __ ; like I really can’t believe it’s already been so long that we’ve known each other... I really just wanted to say that I hope the coming year is warm and kind and good to you because you really deserve it. Thank you for working so hard on straykidsupdate... And you post the loveliest gifs and gfx and are just such a kind soul... You’re such a pillar in this community and I’m so lucky to know and be your friend. Let’s go get some pie some day soon okay? 

@3noracha: Falak! I know I suck at messaging and I’m so sorry for this. I missed your presence on here a lot and I miss all your amazing creations... Just today I saw some of your gfx in my gfx inspo tag and I was just amazed all over again. You’ve always been so kind to me and caring and just such a wonderful friend and I’m beyond grateful to you. I know you’re not as active these days but when you do post stuff it makes me so !!! Like I’m just so grateful to know you!! I hope the coming year will be kind to you!

@banghans: Ollieeeee!!! Hi sweetheart! I know we really only got to know each other this year through the createskz gc, but !! talking to you is so easy and comfortable, and you make me laugh so much. Thank you for always being such a warm person to be around. Everything you make is so lovely please don’t doubt that!! I hope that the coming year we get to talk more and that it treats you well angel! 

@bestiez: Nita ; __ ; Although we’re not really in the same fandoms anymore, you’re still my OG johfam partner in crime. I’m so grateful to have known you as long as I have. You are just one of the kindest, funniest, warmest people I know. Thank you for always coming by and messaging me time to time and making me feel so warm and happy. You’re just a bright ray of sunshine who’s been there for me since so long and I can’t begin to thank you. I hope the new year brings you nothing but happiness and health and good things. 

@binnies: Jem, where do I even begin? I refuse to make this too long or embarrassingly cheesy, because I already do that to you literally every day... But, I’m so so so grateful that we became friends. You made my 2020 so different from how it started. I feel so so so loved because of you. You offer nothing but the kindest of words (except when we’re sleep deprived because then you’re just The Funniest) and I am just so grateful to you. My Twin, My Bangerz Bro (help), My HoneyJem... How lucky I am to have you in my life... You truly helped me get to the other side of 2020 without a doubt in my mind... I feel so lucky that you were there with me... Thank you for everything. I hope the new year is full of love, happiness, and everything you so utterly deserve my babie! 

@felixies: Luna! Hi sweet angel! We’ve known each other a while now huh ; __ ; It feels like it’s already been so long since we became pals, and I just feel so lucky to know you. I know we’ve both been through hell because of stay tumblr (and just in general) but you’re genuinely one of the strongest people I know... You’re so kind and funny and warm and smart and I just feel so lucky to have you in my life as a friend. Thank you for always cheering me on and being so sweet to me. I hope you know how much I love you! I hope you have a wonderful new year angel... You only deserve the best! 

@huiracha: Marie! Hi my sweet angel!!! I know I’ve said it before but, thank you for being such an easy person to talk to and be around. You’re such a comfortable presence who makes me feel safe and comfy to talk to... I think you’re genuinely one of the most talented CCs on here and I’m so lucky to see your gifs and see your work. You’re just so amazing and leave me in awe ; ___ ; Thank you for being so kind to me and always talking with me about SKZ or PTG or Channie... I’m really so lucky to know you and love you! I hope you have a wonderful new year my angel! 

@hyunjins: Hales... The way I don’t even know what to say here except: I love you. I’m so lucky to have you as a friend... You’re truly one of the funniest, best people I’ve come to know in my life. I cannot even begin to explain how much you’ve inspired me and made me feel happy. You’re just such a wonderful person and I am beyond glad we’re pals. Even if our friendship started out as you calling me a furry -___- I wouldn’t have it any other way ; __ ; I am so grateful to you and thankful to you. I love you and hope you have a wonderful new year! I love you!!!

@hyunnie: Kat! My girl! My Dude! One of the most talented stays on this site for real... Everything you make is just loaded with creativity and uniqueness and brilliance- just like you. I can’t tell you how happy I am we became closer this year... Like I feel so happy and lucky to know you and be your friend. You’ve inspired me in so many ways and everything you make is insanely cool. I love you so much Kat!!! I hope you have a wonderful new year and I can’t wait to see what you make next! 

@jisquish: Dia my sweet angel... Happy new year! I hope you know that even if you’re not on much anymore, everytime I see you on my dash my heart lights up a little. I am so glad you were one of my first friends here- even if I didn’t know it at the time. I feel so, so lucky that we’ve stayed friends and that I can talk to you comfortably and easily. You’ve been such a wonderful part of my stayblr experience and I feel like you brighten my life up so much. Thank you so much!! I love you so much!! I hope the coming year is filled with only happiness and good things for you! 

@minhos: Haru!!! Thank you for working so hard for this community. I am so lucky to know you and be your friend, seriously. You’ve made me smile and laugh countless times. Thank you for always just dropping in and checking on me... It truly means a lot to me and makes me feel important and cared for. I love you so much pal! I hope the new year brings you nothing but happiness and love and good things angel. 

@mydays: Moon! Hi sweetheart! I just wanted to say a quick thank you for always being around to talk about Day6 with me and for making me laugh and smile and just for bringing warmth and good things to my dash. Everytime we talk I feel so comfy and happy and lucky to know you. I hope you have a wonderful new year filled with all the good things the universe could bring. Hehe, thank you for always posting moon related content!!! 

@ontracc: Autumn!!! I hope you know how much I appreciate all the lil messages you send me every now and then, just to ask me how I’m doing. It means a lot and I hope you know, I’m grateful! I really hope you know how much I appreciate you and your content and just general presence on the dash and in the dms and in the gc! I’m so lucky to be your pal and I hope the new year brings you happiness and love and all the good things you deserve! 

@realstraykids: Em! ; __ ; First of all, thank you so much for running foryjn with me... I know I have been kinda -___- with updating lately but I’ll be better about it fajiwoefowan... Anyway, you know how much I adore everything you make and I hope you know how much of a giant inspiration you are to me. You’re so creative and talented and friendly and bright and you are just one of the best people I’ve met on here. I just feel so lucky to be your friend and know you and just !!! chat with you! Everytime we talk I’m smiling and feeling happy... I’m so happy we bonded over loving Jeongin... Fr like... Best times!!! Anyway, I hope you know how much I love and appreciate you! Happy new year babie! Thank you for everything you do for stayblr and for me! I love you!!!

@saintmilky: Paige ; __ ; my angel... Thank you for being so sweet to me always. You are just one of those people who makes me smile and laugh so easily... You love frogs and bears and spn and I just feel all these things so deeply in my soul. I keep wanting to message you about SPN and stuff but I get so embarrassed and shy faoweifno... Anyway, I hope you have a wonderful new year and that all the things you deserve come your way!!! Love you my pal!!!

@seungminhos: Bia... My babie... My baba... My soulmate... Where do I even begin... Another year has passed by and so much has happened, and I just don’t know where I’d be without you... There is no doubt in my mind that I am the luckiest person on this earth because I found you and got to be your friend. You’ve made my life a beautiful, bright, fun, endearing place, all through your kindness and love and support. I am so lucky to be your friend and to be able to love you and just to know you... Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me and been with me for, through this year, through every year. Truly, I don’t think I would’ve made it out of 2020 without you running by my side. I don’t know where I’d be without you, but I’m just so glad that you’re here with me now. That you’ve made my life a very, very special place. Happy new year my sweet angel girl. I wish you nothing but the best, and that everything you’re wishing for comes true my love. Let’s keep on going together in 2021, okay? I love you!

@straylov: Nina! Thank you for being such a positive, warm angel. You bring so much happiness and brightness to stayblr, you’re truly irreplaceable. Your talent for gfx and gifs is just crazy. Everything you make is so beautiful and creative and so amazing; I’m just always in awe of everything you do. I hope you have a wonderful new year full of good things and good people! 

@tuanzie: Jo! Although we haven’t talked that often, I just wanted to say thank you for always being so kind to me and supporting the things I make. Not only that but, you make some of the most beautiful and creative things I’ve seen and I’m always excited to see what you make next! I hope you get to achieve all the things you want in the new year and that only good things come your way. You truly deserve the best angel! Happy new year! 

@uayv: Joyce! I miss you and your beautiful work so much. You truly are one of my biggest inspirations as a gfx maker. Everything you make is beautiful, thoughtful, creative, and just amazing. I feel so lucky to be able to see your work as well as be your friend. You’ll be the bread to my soup always ma’am! I love you so much and hope you know! Thank you for being my pal! Happy new year angel! 

@yangjeonginz: June! Bug Boy!!! My sweet lil angel! Happy new year! I know I already told you last night, but thank you for being by my side during this year. I’m so happy we got around to talking more and became so close! You are just such a bright light in my life and I am so lucky to know you and love you! Thank you for always, always, always making me laugh and for listening to me rant about random stuff... I feel so safe and comfortable because of you. You really were a big reason that I survived 2020 and made it to the other side. Without you, I don’t know where I’d be... Thank you so much angel... I hope you have a wonderful new year filled with love and good memories and everything you deserve.