#realised it was actually a year and a half ago i did my second read also

[alexhatessupermarketcola]

I just finished the devil and the deep blue sea for the third time and enjoyed every second.

....what do I do with myself now 😱😂

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (8/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, smut, the angst, broad description of suicide attempt (blood), forbidden relationship, half-manipulation, imprisonment, mention of murder, kind of toxic behaviour, violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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She knew that she was paying for her naivety and stupidity, for not listening to Daemon and her premonition. She wasn't even able to fully blame her uncle for what had happened, because even though he was the one who had imprisoned her, she had thrown herself into his arms herself.

She let him thrust into her body, she let him fill herself with his warm seed, thinking that perhaps there was a way for them, no matter how twisty and difficult.

Lying in his room on his bed, pretending she didn't see his pleading, desperate looks in her direction, she had plenty of time to think about herself and her life.

She realised that everything she was doing, her naivety, her desire to help him stemmed from the belief that if it was possible to fix him, to set him on the right path, to free him from this sullen, dark fate, there was also hope for her.

The hope that one day there would come a moment in her life when she would feel peace.

Meanwhile, instead of peace, something else filled her.

Emptiness.

She felt nothing when it turned out that he had taken her phone, when he locked his room door when he left, when he spoke to her or asked her something.

She pretended that all this wasn't happening, that she was actually on the beach, gazing out at the endless sea, listening to its sound.

She couldn't bear the sight of him, the smell of him, his touch, and everything she had dreamed of and held dear became, in her eyes, foreign and hated: hearing him, she felt as if a stranger, with whom she wanted nothing to do, was speaking to her.

She did not want his explanations.

His apology.

She felt nothing, experienced nothing, needed nothing.

She didn't even feel the need to go home: even if she were free again, it wouldn't change anything.

Her uncle had broken something in her and they both knew it.

Her heart trembled in sympathy and grief only at the sight of Helaena: his sister had been patient, warm and affectionate caretaker towards her. They did not, however, usually exchange even a word.

There was no need: she knew that Helaena was a hostage and prisoner of her family as much as she was, and that there was nothing she could do to help her.

"I'm worried about Aemond." She said one time, handing her a towel in the bathroom.

She could have covered herself with a curtain in the bath, but Helaena needed to be in the room with her.

They wanted to be sure she wouldn't hurt herself.

She looked at her and put on the T-shirt she got from her that served as her pyjamas.

She didn't answer.

She didn't know what.

Helaena looked at her fingers, playing with them in a nervous gesture exactly as her brothers had done, all probably inheriting it from their mother.

"I caught him browsing your Instagram account one evening, couple of months ago. He was sitting in the living room with a drink and thought he was alone. He was about to do something with our grandfather. He didn't hear me come downstairs and freaked out. He turned off his app as soon as he saw me."

She looked at her in disbelief, feeling a squeeze in her heart, discomfort, pain and heat ripple through her body at the thought that, contrary to what she thought, he hadn't forgotten her at all.

"I tried to help him and he took advantage of me. Forgive me, but I am no longer able to sympathise with him." She whispered, picking up her things from the floor. His sister swallowed hard, looking up at her.

"Since that night. Since our father died. Since he saw you. For a moment, something changed in him. He seemed content. Calmer than usual. He told me he was thinking of going to university part-time. I didn't know you were the one helping him with that." She muttered, stepping closer to her, looking somewhere to the side, as if distracted.

"You can't save someone who doesn't want it." She said in a trembling voice, wondering what she wanted from her, how could she think that after what he had done to her she would care about his decisions and what he chose to do.

He had mocked her, objectified her, humiliated her.

He left her with nothing, stripped her of all virtues and values.

"Our grandfather knows when to act like part of the family and when to act like a ruler. He does this to each of us. He knows our weaknesses. Our unfulfilled desires, our flaws, our complexes. He knows who among us is the most miserable, the most vulnerable. The most weak." She said, avoiding eye contact with her, looking around the room, tense.

She pressed her clothes to her chest, feeling the squeeze in her throat at her words, the sympathy and pain that showed she was no different from him.

They both were weak.

They always were, even then, during that summer.

They were sad, hopeless and small children, finding each other in the end, comforting one another with their presence.

"I can't help him anymore. He's made his decision and I'm here. I don't think there's anything more we can say to each other."

That night she couldn't sleep: he hadn't been back for a long time wherever he was, and the thought that perhaps someone had shot him or taken revenge on him didn't fill her with peace.

Despite everything she felt, she didn't want him to die.

She shuddered when she heard footsteps in the corridor and then the sound of a key turning in the lock. She closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep when he came inside, closing the door behind him.

She heard him pull off his jacket and shoes, trying not to make any noise, and then he came towards her, leaning over her with a quiet sigh. She swallowed hard when he gently covered her with the duvet, when his wide, warm hand combed through her hair as if she were a small child.

She was furious with herself that she felt tears under her eyelids as soon as he pulled away and lay down on the mattress, when she heard him say hello to Vhagar, who licked his fingers.

She was furious that some part of her still craved his closeness, that his touch made her feel safe, just as it had then, that summer.

The only joy in her days filled with shame and grief was Vhagar.

Her uncle's dog was gigantic and had big brown eyes. Vhagar was as distrustful as he was and did not approach her at first, but watched her closely as she lay on the floor, and when she held out her hand to her, she sniffed the air, wanting to smell her with her large, black, wet nose.

Like him, Vhagar required patience and understanding, respecting her barriers.

Eventually, however, she allowed herself to be touched, sealing her acceptance with a long, sticky lick from which her fingers were all moist. Being with her and touching her soft, warm fur was a form of therapy for her: she couldn't find comfort in his arms even though she craved it, and she knew he was dying to touch her.

However, if she broke down and let him, she would lose the remnants of her self-respect and her own dignity.

Although she tried to reject these thoughts and feelings that filled her, what she had repressed during the day came back to her in her dream: she saw her uncle lying in a pool of blood, his face cut, his eyes gouged out in revenge for what he had done to one of the men who had not paid him on time.

The scream she let out seemed inhuman to her and she didn't even know she had really let it out. She pulled herself up on the bed, terrified by the darkness and the fact that she did not recognise the room she was in when she heard something move on the floor.

"– Rhaenys? – Rhaenys, what happened? –" She heard his voice and looked at him with big eyes, whooping with her own tears, sobbing loudly as she felt relieved despite everything he had done to her.

He was alive.

"– did you have a bad dream? –" He asked, looking at her with a sincere worry from which she felt pain in her heart, thinking in disbelief that she wanted to throw herself into his arms and cuddle up to him.

"– hey – hey, baby – it's okay –" He whispered soothingly, rising slowly, approaching her uncertainly. She lifted her shoulders up, simultaneously wanting and not wanting this.

She felt a pleasant shiver as he sat down beside her, his hand gently touching her shoulder.

She swallowed hard when he dared to put his other hand on her head and sank his face into her neck – she felt like bursting into sobs feeling his familiar scent, his familiar warmth, her body relaxing involuntarily into his embrace against her will.

"– shhh – easy – easy, little one – no one will hurt you –" He assured her, only to sink his face into the top of her head a moment later, stroking her shuddering body soothingly with his hands.

You've already done it, she thought with pain.

The person before whom she was most vulnerable, whom she allowed to touch her naked body, whom she allowed to be deep inside her, as intimate as possible.

She thought, feeling her body convulsing as she tried to calm her breathing, that she had nothing left.

"– I'm not sure I want to live anymore –" She mumbled out, surprising herself with these words that came straight from her heart.

She heard him draw in the air loudly, terrified, rocking her in his embrace as if she were a small child.

"– no – don’t say that – it won’t take long – my grandfather is in contact with your mother – they will soon come to an agreement and you will return home –" He whispered as if he thought that was what she meant.

That she just wanted to go home.

"– you broke my heart –" She said, wanting him to understand that her going back anywhere wouldn't change anything, because what he had done to her no place could fix.

She didn't really care now where she was or what was happening to her.

She felt regret towards herself that when she heard him burst out crying she involuntarily felt sympathy for him.

"– forgive me – I regret this like nothing else in my life, I swear – I will spend my life trying to make it up to you –" He muttered, his warm, full lips starting to place wet, lingering, desperate kisses on her face, wanting to somehow soften her words and what she had said, but she felt worse and worse.

"– I love you – I love you in every sense of the word –"

Lie.

"– I don't believe you –"

She heard him wail quietly, hugging her as tightly as if he wanted to break her bones, melt into one with her so she could never escape him again.

"– I understand it – and I don't dare ask for it –" He whispered with difficulty, and she clenched her eyes shut, herself feeling the hot tears one by one begin to run down her face.

They were just empty words that couldn't change anything.

"– that feeling I had inside me was the only thing that allowed me to breathe – and you took it away from me –" She whined into his neck, finally saying what she had been feeling all this time, the regret, the disappointment, the terror and the emptiness she felt deep inside her flowed out of her mouth.

She was sure he was going to start denying it, saying he would make it up to her, but instead she heard his mournful cry, his kisses on her face, neck and shoulders loud, sticky, ravenous, his breath heavy and raspy, making her feel a pleasant tickle between her thighs in spite of herself.

"– I love you – I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much –" He mumbled out and she snuggled into him harder, wanting to hurt and comfort him at the same time, to reject and accept him deep inside her.

Some part of her wanted to believe him again.

She gasped, surprised to feel her nipples grow hard, to feel her warm cunt pulsate around nothing as his broad hand slid slowly under her t-shirt, trailing down her back while his swollen lips did not pull away from her bare skin.

"– I love you –" He assured her, the strokes of his hand, his wet, hot lips increasingly ambiguous and intimate, the tips of his fingers trailing down her spine, making a wonderful shiver run through her again and again, from which she finally moaned.

"– you hurt me –" She mumbled out regretfully through her tears, inhaling his scent, hating him for how good she felt with him, hating him for how much she wanted him, hating him for needing him so badly and him taking advantage of her.

"– no more – I swear – all I want is you –" He breathed out, pressing her tighter to him, her lips in some subconscious, involuntary reflex brushing against his neck, tasting his sweat and his perfume.

"– please – please, baby, please –" He exhaled, their fingers clenching tighter on their bodies, proving where this was going, how much they both needed comfort, reassurance, a moment of pleasure and warmth, what only they could give each other.

She shuddered and froze when she felt his hand slide down her back to her bare buttocks, digging his fingers into them, feeling the cold sweat on her neck.

She pushed him away, panting heavily, and quickly moved away, pressing her back against the cold wall. She looked at him with big eyes, feeling her whole body quiver with desire, her cunt pulsing greedily, dripping all over from her wetness.

"– no – no, no, no, you're doing this to me again –" She cried out, shaking her head, horrified at the effect he had on her, how easily he manipulated her.

She was a stupid idiot, exactly as Daemon had said.

Her uncle shook his head, moving closer to her, in some pathetic, helpless gesture grabbing her calves, kissing her knees as if he wanted to fall to her feet.

"– no, I swear – I want you so badly –"

"– your grandfather told you to do this? – to soften me up so that in case my mother didn't agree he would get shares in her companies through me? –" She asked with anger, thinking that surely that was the case, that this was just part of their plan.

She couldn't let them down, she couldn't make a fool of herself once again.

Her uncle looked at her with eyes red from tears, his face all swollen, his lips parted in a heavy, raspy breaths.

"– no – I was the one who demanded that I could be by your side – that no one but me could bother you – to make sure you were safe –" He muttered and she shook her head, thinking she couldn't believe him.

"– I want to go to sleep – I want to go to sleep –" She mumbled out, herself no longer knowing what she was feeling or thinking.

She turned her face to the wall and hugged its cold structure as if she wanted to melt into it, the space between her thighs hot and wet, throbbing from the tension that filled her entire lower abdomen.

She pursed her lips into a thin line when she felt him clamp his hand on her waist, his face pressed against her back.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry – please, don't reject me – I promise I'll be good now – I'm studying, I'm going to take my exams, I'm going to go to university – please, be there for me – it doesn't matter without you – my life doesn't matter if I can't share it with you –" He whined pleadingly, falling into hysteria, bursting out in such a loud, pitiful, almost childish cry that she began to weep herself, not knowing what to do, where to go to escape the chaos of feelings and thoughts that were filling her head.

Although she wanted to, she couldn't push him away after those words and she let him fall asleep cuddled into her back.

The next day, lying down, staring at the wall, waiting for him to wake up, she looked between her and the bed and saw something shiny on the floor. She slipped her hand into the gap and when she caught it, she thought with a heavy beating heart that it was the blade to a small bookbinding knife.

She swallowed loudly as she grasped it in her fingers and slowly raised her hand, slipping it into her towel that lay on the chair just above her head.

He had told her that day that her mother would try to reach an agreement with them if she could see her.

She thought with disgust and shame that her mother and Daemon would have to sacrifice what was rightfully theirs because she had been stupid and naive, because she had disobeyed them, because she had shown thoughtlessness.

She decided that she would make it right.

That she would do something that would destroy Otto's entire plan and allow Daemon to keep what he wanted.

She thought that perhaps her step-father would understand that she had done this for him.

That this was her apology.

"I'd like to take a bath."

True to her assumption, her uncle was careful and removed the key from the bathroom lock, informing her that she had ten minutes, however, to her relief, he did not check her towel.

When he closed the door she quickly turned the water on, not wanting him to get suspicious, and slid the blade out of the cloth, turning it in her fingers.

This was her escape route.

Her final word.

She stepped into the tub, sinking into the pleasantly warm, crystal clear water and leaned her back against the backrest, breathing loudly, feeling fear, uncertainty and doubt.

She didn't want this, but there was no other choice.

Even if she went home, she would not escape the prison that was her heart.

She was unable to stop loving him.

This thought made her sink the blade into the skin of her wrist.

She hissed, feeling with tears in her eyes how unpleasant, rough and stinging this feeling was, uncomfortable, exactly as her feelings towards her uncle.

She smiled under her breath thinking that he would be the one to find her.

She wondered if she would break his heart in this way, just as he had broken hers.

When she did the same with her other wrist she dropped the blade on the tiles and leaned her head back, lying in peaceful silence, hearing only the hum of water around her.

She closed her eyes, imagining that she was by the sea again, with him, listening as he told her about how old and valuable the coin they had found was.

Tears ran down her cheeks at the thought that in a moment she would join that boy.

The man standing outside the door had killed him long ago.

And then she fell asleep, and though she heard someone's voice, felt someone touch her, felt someone calling her name, she could not open her eyes, feeling calm and light.

Free.

She hissed, feeling an unpleasant burning sensation in her wrists and twisted on the bed, opening her eyelids with difficulty. She felt the sun shining on her face, the familiar smell of disinfectants all around her, the quiet beeping of the machines controlling her heart rate just above her head.

She looked to the side and saw the figure of Daemon sitting in a chair, looking at her exactly as he had then, when her uncle had brought her home from Heavenly Beach.

She felt her body begin to quiver in shame and fear: even though she tried, she couldn't find the words to express what she was feeling, and although she had never called him that, at that moment something snapped inside her.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, Dad – I believed him – I was only supposed to bring him the books, nothing more – I was trying to fix it –" She mumbled out, bursting into sobs, struggling to catch air between the successive sentences that left her mouth.

Something in her step-father's gaze changed – he swallowed hard and twisted in his seat, clenching his hands into fists.

It seemed to her that some part of him sympathised with her.

"– I know –"

Those words, though short and dispassionate, meant more to her than he could have imagined.

Although he was furious with her, and he had every right to be, he understood why she did what she did and that she believed it would help his cause.

"– you did it for me – didn't you? –" He asked, looking at her wrists.

She nodded, trying to catch her breath, feeling that her cheeks and eyelids were all swollen with tears of sadness, grief and pain.

He lowered his gaze and sighed heavily, turning his head to the side, looking towards the window.

"– don't ever do it again – your mother almost died of despair –" He said, and she nodded again, letting his large hand close over her fingers.

"– you are a naive, stupid child – but mine – you will be under my full control from now on – you will not go anywhere without me, your mother or my bodyguards – do you understand? –" He asked and she nodded, feeling shame.

He was right.

She was a naive, stupid child who someone had to watch over to make sure she didn't mess up again.

Despite her initial horror that everyone would hate her, she was welcomed home with relief and joy: she knew that to some extent this was influenced by what she had done, but at least it made everyone understand that she regretted what had happened.

"– that son of a bitch – I swear I'll kill him with my own hands –" Jace said to her, embracing her tenderly as if she were a teddy bear.

She felt pain and discomfort at the thought that some part of her wanted to ask him not to hurt her uncle.

She wondered how much of this was due to how he was manipulating her and how much was due to how she really felt about him.

She knew that Daemon, Jace and their men had declared war on Otto: every day someone died in a shootout, and she prayed she wouldn't hear his name overhearing the conversations of her father's bodyguards.

"That boy with one eye sold Larys Strong a bullet in the head. His grandfather's partner! They say he just walked into his office and shot him. He must have pissed him off pretty good." He said, and she swallowed hard, feeling her heart stand up in her throat with terror.

She reached into the pocket of her shorts, pulling out the note he'd left her at the hospital and read its contents for the hundredth time.

I will always watch over you.

A cold shiver ran down her spine at the thought that his confession was literal.

That he had killed him for her.

Do you know who did this?

I can take care of it.

For your comfort.

Those were his words.

I can take care of it for your comfort.

She hid her face in her hands at the thought of him sinking even deeper into darkness for her, thinking that in this way he would atone for what he had done.

Daemon agreed to let her return to the University on the condition that one of his bodyguards would wait in the car the entire time she was in the building, just to make sure she didn't leave or run away.

She agreed to this out of desperation, feeling that she was descending into madness sitting at home, constantly dreaming about him.

About someone bringing them news that he was dead.

Along with the end of the semester, the entry exams for all those who wanted to get into university were also approaching.

She tried not to think about whether he was studying, whether he was going to come and try, recognising that it was just his momentary whim, an attempt to make her believe that he was capable of change.

And then she'd see his silhouette in her memory, bent over a thick tome, read through her textbooks.

She hated herself for sympathising with him.

She hated herself for wanting him to succeed.

Since then neither of them had written or spoken to each other.

Even so, the day she knew the exams were to take place had her walking around in a state of complete shock and panic all day.

"Are you alright? I'm worried about you. You look terrified." Robb said, snapping her out of her reverie.

They had been together for a few months during the past year, as they had become very close on a excavations where they had been the professor's assistants together.

His ironic sense of humour, the glint in his eye and his cheeky smile made her feel a pleasant warmth in her stomach, and when he kissed her one evening she thought there was hope for her.

That she could live a normal life.

She spent her first time with him because she trusted him and knew he was experienced. He was tender and patient with her, excited by her clearly lack of skill in this aspect, by the fact that he could lead her by the hand, show her what desire and fulfilment were.

She was grateful to him for making the loss of her virginity only a little painful for her, and beyond that she felt only pleasure.

Nevertheless, she despaired that the orgasms she experienced with him could not compare to what she felt when she herself sank her hand into her leaking womanhood, imagining that it was her uncle's fingers that was greedily invading her slit.

"– go on – after all, that's what you want – that's why you came to me, isn't it? – for your uncle to take care of you – am I wrong? –"

She had to snuggle her face into the pillow so that her siblings wouldn't hear her moan of delight and relief, while wonderful waves of warmth and pleasure shook her body, causing her to fall into a peaceful, pleasant sleep, still holding her hand between her thighs.

However, it was enough for her to wake up in the morning, and remorse, sadness and disappointment in herself made her unable to breathe or eat.

And then she saw pictures of Robb with the women he had embraced at the club, and while part of her felt pain, part of her also felt relief.

When she broke up with him, he tried to explain to her that nothing had happened, that he had forgotten himself under the influence of alcohol but that he had never, never cheated on her because he had not kissed or had sex with any of them.

She then thought sadly that she could tell him exactly the same thing, however she felt that they were both cheating on each other in some way, just not physically.

She decided that it would be better if they remained friends, and although it was hard for him to bear at first, he seemed to eventually get used to the thought.

Neither of them resented each other.

She lowered her gaze at the thought, embarrassed, not knowing what to answer him, not being able to confess the truth after all.

She was, however, tired of lying.

"My friend was supposed to take his entry exams today. But I don't know if he will. He hurt me and I'm afraid to go there." She said, looking across the corridor to the part in the building where the big auditorium was located.

"Do you want me to go with you?" He suggested, and for some unknown reason she felt grateful to him for the offer.

She nodded, and he smiled at her in a way that she remembered vividly from the moments when she thought they were happy.

When they got there, she saw that the door to the room was open, probably because of how stuffy it was in there.

"Can you see him?" Robb whispered as she leaned out, she could, however, only see the first three rows of pews and did not recognise him among any of the people.

"No. But I can't see much." She muttered.

"Well, tough. We'll wait." He sighed, leaning back against the windowsill with his arms folded.

"Is he your boyfriend?" He asked after a moment with hesitation in his voice.

"No." She mumbled, looking at her fingers in shame. Robb raised his eyebrows, stroking his chin as if something in her words comforted him.

"Oh. I see." He said, and she swallowed hard, looking away, feeling that even though she had told the truth she felt like she had lied.

The people who had finished writing the exam started to leave one by one, making her lose faith with each passing minute that he had done it at all, thinking in the back of her mind that he was sitting with his grandfather and brother right now for sure, discussing how to destroy her step-father.

He didn't have time to play University now, she thought sadly, and froze when she saw him in the doorway.

His healthy eye grew wide at the sight of her as if he had seen a ghost and he stopped in mid-motion, pale, glancing at her, then at Robb.

"Is that him?" He asked curiously, extending his hand to him. "Robb, it's a pleasure. I hope you become a student soon too."

She swallowed hard seeing that his uncle's face expressed tension and coldness, a sign that something bad was about to happen.

His gaze full of impatience fell on her again while Robb's hand continued to hang in the air, showing her that if she didn't intervene, he would speak up and she wouldn't like that.

"Thank you, Robb. Will you leave us alone?" She asked in a trembling voice, wanting him to get away from this place as quickly as possible.

Robb blinked, bewildered, looking at her then at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Didn't you hear what she said?" Her uncle snarled in his direction in a way she knew was a warning.

He knew who he was, she realised suddenly with horror.

Then, when Helaena caught him looking at her Instagram account, it wasn't the first time he'd done it.

He followed her social media.

That's why he knew where he should come even though she hadn't given him her university address.

"I'm not talking to you, mate." Said Robb in a tone that betrayed that he had lost patience and she had to stand between them to keep her uncle from pushing against him, his jaw clenched in rage.

"That's enough." She said in a shaky voice.

"Aemond is having a hard time. Forgive him. Sometimes he doesn't know how to behave. He won't hurt me. Am I wrong?" She asked softly with a note of mockery in her voice, from which he swallowed loudly and looked away, embarrassed, trying to control himself.

Robb hesitated, but nodded finally and left them alone, glancing at them intently over his shoulder.

"It was a mistake." She said, shaking her head, herself wanting to leave, recognising that she didn't know why she was doing it, why she cared.

"– no – no, wait –" He muttered, grabbing her arm, careful, however, not to cause her pain. His hand wrapped around her waist in a way from which she swallowed hard, his forehead pressed against her temple.

"– are you two together again? –" He asked in a trembling voice, and she involuntarily burst out laughing, ignoring the stares of the other students who were just passing them by.

"– do you want to tell me how you know who I'm dating and when? –" She hissed, looking at him with fury, his gaze hot and pleading, full of feelings she didn't want to see.

"– do you love him? –"

She shook her head, trying to push him away, not wanting to hear it, having no intention of explaining herself to him.

"– I hope you'll pass – let me go – let me go, I said –" She growled, trying to pull away from him, but he closed his hands on her back, hugging his nose to her cheek like a small child seeking refuge, his eyes closed as he spoke his next words.

"– I killed him for you –" He whispered.

She swallowed hard, feeling a powerful, cold shiver run down her spine, her heart starting to pound like mad in her chest making her struggle to take another breath.

He had killed for her.

He had killed a man.

God, was it possible to wash away such a sin?

To carry such a burden.

She shook her head, her brow arching in pain at the thought that she didn't want to hear it.

"– I killed him because he threatened you – because he wanted to hurt you – I want you to be safe –" He gasped tenderly, enclosing her jaw in his hands, placing again and again warm, soft kisses on her cheek as if she were something he longed to cherish, that he adored, that he loved.

A part of her wanted to ask him if he planned to kill himself too, but those cruel words didn't leave her mouth.

When he hugged her she simply closed her eyes and allowed herself to calm down in the tender embrace of his arms, feeling his soft, full lips on her cheek, neck and shoulders, his hands combing through her hair tender, close, familiar, beloved.

"– I'm not pregnant –" She whispered and felt him freeze for a moment. He swallowed hard, placing a lingering, warm kiss on her temple.

"– I know – the doctor told me – we just have to try again –" He said softly, stroking her back comfortingly as if he were a husband who had just assured his wife that they would have a child in the future.

How absurd his words were simultaneously horrified, embarrassed and endeared her.

"– do you hear yourself? – after what you did to me? – after how –" She mumbled out, bursting into sobs, clasping her hands on his back, for some reason seeking help in his embrace.

He was the only person who understood what she was going through.

"– shhh – I'm here, baby –" He hushed her, stroking her hair and her back, his face sinking into her temple, his warm breath enveloping her neck.

She shuddered when she heard her phone ring – they moved away from each other, and when she pulled it out of her backpack it turned out to be Daemon's bodyguard.

"Your class is over, where are you? Is something wrong?"

"– n-no – no, I'm on my way, I was talking to the professor – I'm sorry –" She mumbled out, scared that the man would start looking for her.

"– it's okay – I'll wait where I always do –" He said and hung up while she breathed a sigh of relief.

"– wait a few minutes before I go so they don't see you –" She said indifferently, tucking the phone into her backpack. She felt him wanting to embrace her again, but she pushed him away, shaking her head and avoided him, unable to look at his face.

We just have to try again.

She burst out crying at the thought that some sick part of her wanted this.

"– you said he's not your boyfriend –" She heard Robb's voice behind her, standing at the entrance to the courtyard, looking at her with pain and disbelief.

She swallowed hard at the thought that he was watching them from a distance.

"– I –"

"– I thought we are friends, that we are honest with each other –" He said quickly, combing his hair with his hand in a gesture of impatience, his words making a cold, unpleasant shiver of shame shudder through her body.

He had caught her in the act, and she was like a small, weeping child who was afraid of the consequences.

"– he is not my boyfriend –"

"– are you serious? – you said he hurt you, and you almost let him fuck you in the middle of the corridor – where is your self-respect? –" He hissed and after a moment fell silent, seeing the look in her eyes, the expression on her face, hearing his own words, knowing that his last sentence was a step too far.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry I said that – I didn't –" He muttered, running his hand over his mouth.

He wanted to touch her shoulder, but she moved away from him, shaking her head, not caring that the others were looking at them from the side.

"– is there anything else you want to say? –" She asked, having the feeling that something inside her had broken once and for all, shattered into pieces like a glass vase.

Robb opened his mouth, his cheeks turning scarlet with horror and shame.

She turned tensely, heading for the exit, out of the corner of her eye noticing her uncle's face staring back at her, pale and shocked.

He heard it.

She shook her head letting him know not to follow her and ran towards the car park, thinking about how she wanted to sink to the ground and die.

As she closed the car door behind her, whooping with tears in panic, the man leaned over to look at her face, horrified.

"Are you all right?" He muttered.

"– I didn't pass the fucking exam – can we go now? –" She said with such anger and fury that the bodyguard merely nodded and started the engine, backing the car out onto the road.

She covered her face with her hands, choking and panting, trying to calm down, thinking she deserved it.

Why had she gone there?

Why did she have to see if he had come?

What did it matter?

We just had to try again.

Jesus fucking Christ.

They were both completely mad.

Maybe they had inherited it in their genes, she thought regretfully.

It wasn't until she was home at dinner, feeling Daemon's anxious gaze on her, that she thought uneasily that she had escaped the drowning ship, but had left her uncle and ex-boyfriend far too close. She felt her knee begin to pop up in a nervous reflex under the table at the thought that he might have done something to him.

Out of revenge, out of jealousy, out of whimsy.

I killed him for you.

She thought she would write to him to make sure he was okay.

But he didn't write back.

Unable to stand it, she put a second, new card in her phone, one of the hundreds her brother kept in his drawer to avoid bugging him, and called her uncle, demanding an explanation.

"What did you do to him?" She asked horrified, walking around her room as if in a trance.

"I see you have a new phone number and I have no idea what you're asking."

"Robb, Aemond. He's not writing me back."

She heard him hum on the other end, as if he was pleased with her words and the fact that whatever he had done had forced her to contact him.

"We only talked. His handsome face with brown eyes is unharmed." He said calmly, making her breathe a sigh of relief, still feeling the tension though.

"What were you two talking about?"

"It was our men's business."

"AEMOND."

"That I won't let anyone treat you like that. He doesn't know shit and meddles in matters that aren't his." He said coldly. "I gave him a warning."

For a moment there was a tension-filled silence between them, from which her heart pounded like mad.

She thought it was all some kind of pure madness, that it wasn't really happening.

"– did you threaten him? –"

She heard his loud sigh on the other side and a bark.

Vhagar.

"– I told him to treat you with respect and not to talk to other people about us if he didn't want unpleasantness – no violence, pure persuasion –"

"– manipulation – as in my case –"

"– that is not true –" He protested angrily.

"– LIAR –" She hissed and hung up, throwing her phone on the bed in a gesture full of rage.

She fell back on the bedding, sighing loudly and groaned when she saw that her display had lit up and he had sent her a new message.

She unlocked her phone reluctantly, thinking she had angered him with her words, but saw with surprise that he had sent her a picture of Vhagar.

She felt regret and a sting in her heart at the thought that involuntarily it made her smile.

What he was doing to her was so wrong, so very wrong.

So why did she feel warmth in her heart?

After a while, her phone vibrated again.

She didn't know why she laughed warmly only to burst out crying again a moment later, not understanding why he was the only one who could make her smile, the only one who could make her feel that wonderful warmth in her lower abdomen, the only one who could calm her down.

Why he was the only one she loved.

[evalevaeva]

rival | yeon sieun

warning : death

Yeon Sieun wasn't just a schoolmate. You wouldn't have considered him a friend or someone you hate. The two of you acknowledged each others existence, knowing that the other person existed simply because of one piece of paper that was pasted on the signboard of Byuksan Middle School's notice board every few months.

"First : Yeon Sieun," That was what the board would read every month from the first year of school, but somehow by the third test of the fourth year, yeon sieun's name was not first.

"Did you hear? Yeon sieun got knocked off first place!" Students began gossiping as yeon sieun stood in front of the noticeboard, face blank, but his eyes showed anger.

To say he was angry would be an understatement. He aas furious, his heart pumped faster and he could hear ringing in his ears as he walked back to his seat, acting as he would on a normal day as the students in the class looked at him, muttering and whispering to each other.

"Congratulations! I can't believe you did so well for the mock exams! You'll definitely ace the exams by CSAT year!" The sound of female students congratulations caught Sieun's attention as he raised his head to look at the window in the corridor.

You were walking with four other female students, a large smile plastered onto your face as you shook your head at your friends' words, shy from their compliments.

For the first time in a long time, Sieun felt the feeling of inferiority creeping up his neck like a silent monster. His grip on his pen became tighter as his eyes were glued onto the notebook in front of him, not wanting to think about the result slip on the noticeboard.

"Sieun," You called out his name as you held your tray of food. The boy looked up from his English textbook as he looked at you, his earpieces still in his ears as you exhaled, feeling the awkwardness creeping up your arms.

"Could I sit here? I wanted to talk to you about certain subjects because I'm still not at my best," You asked until you realised that he was ignoring you, eyes glued back onto the text on the book in front of his face as you sighed, turning to walk back to the table with your friends.

That was over a year ago, and by the actual examination, sieun was back on top, with you being in second. That didn't bother you. You weren't aiming for the top, just high enough to get into a good school later on in life.

By the last year of school, the teachers saw that both of you were high academic achievers, which led to their decision to make both of you seatmates.

The air was tense at first. You never knew if you should talk to him or wait for him to start a conversation. You chose the latter, thinking back on your only other encounter with him the previous year.

Over the course of half a year, you were still struggling with Additional Mathematics, and you could never really understand it. You would've asked your classmates but only one other student took Additional Mathematics with you, and that was, lo and behold, Yeon Sieun.

It was break time, and on a usual day, you would've been at the snack bar with your friends deciding what to eat, but today wasn't the case. You had to figure out how to do the hard questions before the exams, and you were still struggling. The teacher was no help, simply telling you to check with Sieun. If you could, you would've.

"The shoelace method."

You lifted your head up from the paper as you turned to see sieun still writing in his notebook, despite you having just heard his voice.

"The shoelace method...?" You questioned him again as he turned to you, his face with his signature cold look, but he was offering help, who were you to reject that?

Sieun adjusted his seat as he moved slightly closer to your table, his chair slanted in your direction.

"I assume you already know the formula?" Sieun asked, not looking at you as his head was tilted slightly, reading the question carefully as he clicked his pen, writing down in blue ink as he explained.

"Take the points in the anti-clockwise direction. The first point chosen must be repeated..." Sieun explained as he wrote down the formula and numbers for the polygon.

You should have been focused, but somehow... having yeon sieun so closd to you made your heart jump. You gulped as you blinked, hard, focusing on the problem at hand.

"You can use the numbers in the motion of a shoelace, x1 with y2, so on and so forth, and eventually, you'll get this answer," Sieun wrote down the final answer as you looked at him, feeling starstruck.

Everyone knew he was smart, but getting to experience his academic ability first-hand made you feel a newfound respect for him. He knew his work, and he made sure he did.

That single event with both of you led to a more comfortable atmosphere as the days passed. Sieun didn't act like you didn't exist, and you could talk to him easily, most of the time.

A simple 'good morning sieun' and a nod back was a more usual occurrence between the both of you and the teachers were more than elated by that.

On that particular day, you didn't seem yourself, even sieun could see it. You didn't speak nor look at anyone in the class as yoj entered, head hanging low as you sat in your seat. You took out your books and placed them on the table, placing your head on them as you closed your eyes, feeling the lack of sleep beginning to seep in.

Your situation at home led to your current state, but you couldn't tell anyone. It's normal academic pressure, it was nothing to worry about ; you chose to believe it. Your grades were beginning to slip, slowly like a snake creeping up with its venom. Your parents weren't happy, a screaming match ensued the moment you arrived home at the start of the week and it was already Friday. You were exhausted. Emotionally and physically, you were done.

"Wake up. The teacher's here," Sieun muttered as he tapped on your shoulder, causing you to flinch as you woke up from your five minutes of sleep.

"I'll be announcing the winner of the additional mathematical olympiad competition that was held recently," The homeroom teacher spoke, but you were to busy beginning to doze off as the teacher's sudden mention of your name caused you to wake up once again.

"Congratulations, this prize is awarded to this student for achieving first place in the additional mathematics olympiad." The teacher announced as you stood up, walking to the teacher to receive the certificate, before plopping down on your seat once again.

"Yeon Sieun, second place," The teacher announced as loud gasps were heard around the room.

You opened your eyes as you saw Sieun at the front of the class, taking the certificate half-heartedly as he gave you the same glare he had given you a year ago, over the mock exam results.

"Now, now, settle down class," the teacher shouted over the muttering and chatter in the class while you were trying to grasp a few more minutes of sleep.

Everyone had gone for their lunch, and it was just you and sieun in the classroom.

"Was it fun?" Sieun suddenly asked, he was seated, facing the board as you turned to him, confused and exhausted.

"What?" You questioned back as sieun turned to you, his eyes glaring at you ad he continued, "Did you just want help because you wanted to surpass me? To get first place?"

You were too tired for this. Everything was becoming a blur in your head.

"Look, if you wanted to win that math olympiad, you could've said so. I didn't even want to take part in it, the teacher in charge signed me up," you muttered as sieun suddenly slammed the desk with his arm, causing it to turn red with each second that passed.

"You're lazy, and all you do is leech off of others. You ask me for help in everything, but can't even do such a basic concept like polygons." Sieun scoffed as you turned to him, eyebrows furrowed at his sudden aggresiveness.

"What is wrong with you? Just because of a stupid math competition, you're attacking me? Watch your mouth yeon sieun," You spat back at him as he turned to face you, his anger reaching its limits.

"You're pathetic," Sieun stated heartlessly as you stood up, grabbing your textbooks, shoving them into your bag, not caring if the covers or pages were bent. You made your way out of the class, walking down the hallway as you made your way to the main office.

"I'm not feeling well. I need to go home," you told the receptionist as she handed you the form to fill out to leave school early.

Sieun's words were echoing in your head as you thought about his harsh words. He was just like everyone around you. Your parents, always telling you to work harder, unsatisfied with everything that you did for your academics.

You walked down the path from the school gate to the bus stop as you quietly wiped away the tears that were threatening to fall. Floodgates were about to be released, but with the many people at the bus stop, that would be embarrassing. Your vision was still blurry from the lack of sleep, but you kept repeating in your head that it was nothing to worry about.

That was until your legs gave out, and the next thing you knew, you were on the floor, your head facing the road as you felt people calling out to you. They sounded mumbled, as if you were underwater. The world seemed to become a whirlpool as you inhaled deeply, before blacking out, the last thing being the sound of the ambulance.

The next week came, and Sieun walked into the classroom, waiting patiently with a box of milk, patiently waiting for you to arrive. He had thought about his actions over the weekend and realised he had lost his cool over something minor, and he had definitely hurt you. He tried to convince himself that he did the right thing, but he couldn't. Remembering how you looked at him, face full of hurt and hands trembling, he couldn't.

The bell rang, and the boy looked up from his notebook to see the seat next to him empty. You didn't arrive. Maybe you were late? He told himself as he placed the milk under your desk for you to see when you arrived.

"I have news to share with all of you," the teacher started as she walked into the classroom with a vase of white flowers, the atmosphere becoming heavy. The teacher was barely ever serious unless something bad happened, and that wasn't a good sign to sieun.

"Our classmate has passed away on Friday. I would like everyone to remember our dear friend as someone who was hard working and could be relied on."

Sieun's ears seemed to ring. A high-pitched ring with a buzzing feeling in his head as he turned to look at his classmates. Only your seat was empty.

"Sieun," the teacher called him as he snapped out of his daze, realising she was standing beside your table.

"I hope you're alright. I know the sudden news shocked you seeing as the both of you were quite close," The teacher said as she placed the flowers on your desk, leaving it as sieun couldn't help but stare at it.

You were gone, and the last thing he called you was 'pathetic'. He was so caught up in his inner turmoil that he was so blind as to not see you suffering right in front of his two very eyes.

Sieun reached out his hand, his hand grazing the clear vase as he thought of when he'd pat your head when you'd sleep in class. He didn't expect that the next time he'd see you, you would be in a casket, with a large potrait of your school photo in front of it.

"You must be yeon sieun." a voice called out as sieun turned to see an old woman in a black hanbok, a chief mourner badge around her arm as sieun nodded.

"You were always spoken highly of. My grandchild would always come home and excitedly tell me about how she talked to you more with each day that passed." the old woman told sieun as he looked to the ground. He felt ashamed, as if he shouldn't have been there. Even in death, you'd still find a way to clench his heart.

Sieun sat at his desk at home, staring at the wall. He felt as if his soul had been removed from his body. He always felt void of emotions, but somehow, he felt like there were too many emotions.

One drop, two drops.

Sieun felt his tears running down uncontrollably, not being able to keep himself together. Sieun never had many friends, but somehow, he always found you sneaking into his heart as someone dear to him, as someone he'd want in his life.

But it was too late. You were no longer a rival, but a friend.

---

MY ASS BRUH I WORKED ON THIS FOR 2 HOURS AND IT TURNE DOUT LIKE SHIT IM SO MAD AT 4:38AM AND ITS JFJFJRWBWJ

also the math part was kind of entertaining to write other than the fact i couldn't write the formula in so pls imagine it

[natashaslesbian]

Sleepy Bear

Summary: Natasha finds an unusual way to help you sleep

Word Count: 1.1k

Parings (Natasha Romanoff x Reader)

Warnings: none I believe :))

————

You had no idea how long your girlfriend had been doing this for you. Sleep had never come easy to you, only did you get a rest when your exhaustion would force your body to shut down. Your thoughts leave you restless each night, the anxiety had always been there. Your mom started you in therapy when you were 7, the nightmares should have stopped by then. She tired everything, your mother, each week was a new medication. Your dad on the other hand, he couldn’t have cared less. It was him who marched you into the hospital demanding they scanned your ‘daft brain’ as he put it. There was nothing to be found. Years of therapy only brought the diagnosis of anxiety, much to the disappointment of your father. Dr Grey was a nice lady, but she couldn’t quite solve your problems. You were too young to put your anxiety into words, you just knew it made you too scared to sleep. You stopped therapy after your mom died and your dad refused to pay, you were left to your own devices.

You met Natasha 2 years ago at the coffee shop you work at. She fell head over heels the second she laid her eyes on you, not that she’d ever tell you that. You had your eyes on her too, it took you months to realise that she was purposely going out of her way to visit the shop multiple times a week. It started with lasting looks and then lingering touches when you passed the redhead her iced caramel oat milk latte. Soon you were slipping her extra cookies and then one day she slipped you her number, you never looked back after that day. After a few months you finally let Natasha come over to your apartment, she was horrified at the state you were living in, sleep was the last of your worries. Your dad kicked you out after you told him you were gay, you took what you could and found the cheapest little studio available. The paint was chipped all over, the cooker didn’t work and you were on the verge of eviction. The widow was desperate to move you into the compound, despite your discomfort at the idea. Eventually you agreed to take residence in one of the spare rooms, and surprisingly you settled in straight away. Your life fell back on track after that and you and Natasha had grown closer and stronger than ever, you even shared a room now, Natasha had to move the ring in her bedside draw to Clint’s room.

A slightly sharp corner had you stirring slightly, the assassin quick to flash you a worried glance. You settled again straight away, rolling your face into the cold window. The day you had finally told Natasha about your anxiety was a relief, you cried for hours that wednesday. Since your mother, no one had been so kind. You were so afraid she would run a mile, but she sat with you for all those hours, just holding you. Nat promised to spend every sleepless night with you, lord knows she had her own problems when it came to sleep, but you somehow found comfort in each others restless nights. Often you would take turns in reading to each other, some nights you would go for a stroll around the grounds of the compound. But your favourite form of medicine was the car. Natasha would wrap you up in her fluffy blanket and strap you snug into the passenger seat, the gentle hum and sway of the motor would eventually lull you into a slumber. It took months for your girlfriend to convince you to even try the idea, you hated it at first, what did she think you were, a baby? “I know you’re not an actual baby, but your my baby” she would say “let me take care of you” how she even thought of the plan was a mystery to you and you definitely didn’t want to admit it was working.

Natasha pulled into the 24 hour gas station, the car coming to a scratchy stop. “Mm, Tasha?” You mumbled, half asleep still. “I’m here sweetheart, I just need to get some gas” she said “would you like some snacks? Or do you wanna sleep a little longer?” Your belly rumbled right on cue “choccy biscuit” maybe you were still a baby at heart, “one pack of chocolate biscuits coming right up” the beautiful red head said, oh how you thought her locks were just gorgeous. “You’re so pretty” you whispered, eyes only half open “thank you baby” Natasha laid a kiss on your warm lips and you couldn’t stop the little squeal that escaped you. She wasn’t gone long enough for you to miss her, considering you continued to doze in her absence. You heard the familiar commotion of your girlfriend climbing back into the drivers seat, you peeled your eyes open to give her a sleepy smile “here you go sleepy bear” your favourite biscuits were deposited into your lap and you whispered a small thanks.

You contently nibbled for the 45 minute journey back to the compound, while Natasha quietly sang along to whatever trash was on the late night radio, you always thought they played the worse songs during the early hours of the morning. A quick glance at the clock told you it was 2:36am, Natasha had been driving you to sleep for over an hour, there was nothing she wouldn’t do for you. “I love you” you said, breaking the silence “I love you too y/n” Natasha replied, a bit unsure at why you were suddenly all mushy. “No” you continued “I really love you” a red light gave Nat the chance to flash you another worried look, she softened when you saw your eyes glistening back at her, and the smile engraved on your face “you’re welcome baby girl” you swear she could read your mind. With the conversation at a happy standstill you decided to close your eyes again, just for a little nap until you were home.

When you stirred again, the rough car seat had become your plush mattress and your head was laying comfortably on your pillow. It quickly became Natasha’s as she climbed into bed with you “can I have my own pillow sleepy?” She giggled “no” you sighed, carrying the sound to the end of your breath “it smells like you” you mumbled “but I’m right here?” The widow kindly shot back “oh yeah” you said, eyes still tightly shut, you still failed to roll back over though. “You’re not gonna move are you?” Natasha said, you shook your head against her arm and she didn’t hesitate to haul you up into lap, her arms wrapped tightly around your waist and your head perfectly slotted into the crook of her neck. “Sweet dreams y/n” Natasha wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep that ring locked away.

————

I wrote this when I couldn’t sleep and I almost cried

-Astara

[flawedamythyst]

Amazing news!! I finally finished the modern no powers au, slow burn, marriage of convenience, Old Guard Nicky/Joe fic that I started in 2020!!!

You may remember hearing about it in one of my post popular Tumblr posts this year, complaining that I had completed the entire Arabic Duolingo course before I finished the fic.

It's 125k words in 31 chapters and I am very excited to finally post it and move on with my life.

However, I would absolutely love to get a sensitivity reader (or readers) for it first. Joe is Muslim and Tunisian and there is a lot of stuff with his family, as well as his feelings about his religion. In addition to Nicky being Italian, most of it is set in Milan, and he's leaving behind the priesthood and so having some Catholicism issues.

I am English, an atheist, and have been to Milan for less than a week 20 years ago. I did my best with Google but I am bound to have missed things, or not known to look them up. Please, if you are Tunisian, Muslim, Italian or Catholic, it would be so incredibly useful if you have time to read it over.

It's PG, no smut or violence, and mostly pining, banter and found family feels. The plot is basically 'hey I just met you, and this is crazy, but why don't we get married so you get Italian citizenship and I get someone to fund me through a nursing degree?'

Warning tags are Homophobia as a main plotpoint, Islamophobia and Racism as minor plot details, family rejection, and the traditional Booker tags of depression, grief, alcoholism and mention of suicidal ideation, although he's only a secondary character so they're not a focus.

I'm also up for a normal Beta if anyone is up for that, atm I am the only person who has had eyes on it.

And so you can see the kind of thing you'd be getting into, given the length of it, this is the first scene:

The first thing to catch Joe’s attention was the man’s <i>shoulders</i>.

Perfectly broad and tanned even for a white guy, glowing under the warm Maltese sun as they rose up from the ocean, water spilling down them. Joe was so taken with them that it was a moment before he realised that more beauty was being revealed as the guy straightened up and started to walk out of the sea. A set of biceps that also took Joe a moment to fully take in, a chest just as broad as the shoulders, narrowing to a trim waist and a set of hips that he could all too easily imagine curling his hands around. The weight of the water had dragged the guy’s bright red swimming shorts low enough to reveal the cut of his hipbones, glistening with water.

Joe was so taken with them that it took him a moment to realise that the guy had left the water behind and was now coming up the beach, which meant Joe could see just how short his shorts were. His thighs were long and strong, and just as tanned as his shoulders. Holy shit, this had to be some kind of vision of paradise, no man could be this hot in real life, surely?

The man stopped at a beach umbrella a few metres from the sun lounger Joe was sprawled on, and then bent over to grab his towel.

Joe made an actual noise at that, an involuntary guttural exclamation in his throat as he tipped his sunglasses down to make sure he got the best view.

“Jesus, Joe,” said Andy from beside him. “Have some dignity.”

“I’m going to marry that man,” said Joe in a dazed voice, not taking his eyes away for a second. 

The man stood back up, rubbing himself down with his towel, and Joe took the time to actually look at his face. Large eyes and prominent cheekbones and, okay, a lot of nose, but Joe could easily imagine waking up to that face on the pillow beside him. His hair was dark with water, slicked back from his face, and Joe wondered what colour it would dry to, if the strands around his face would fall over his forehead where Joe could push them away for him, fingers gliding over his head as he leaned in to kiss him.

“Wow,” said Nile, half-sitting up to take a look. “I know you said you were going to cut loose and get flirty, but I didn’t realise you’d just straight up turn into a total horndog.” She tipped her head to one side as she took in the vision of perfection. “I guess he’s kinda cute. Nice shoulders.”

“I would dedicate whole years of my life to worshipping those shoulders,” said Joe, barely even letting himself blink as the guy ran the towel roughly over his hair, leaving it damply stuck up.

“Okay, dial it back,” said Andy. “Or at least pretend to. This isn’t Tunisia, but staring at strangers on the beach like you’re picturing them in your favourite porn film is kinda skeevy.”

Joe made himself blink and tipped his sunglasses back on, settling back against the lounger. The guy was packing his stuff up anyway, pulling on a shirt that he didn’t bother buttoning and shoving his feet in a pair of flip flops. Joe was about to watch him walk away, and probably never see him again, but at least he’d be able to live the rest of his life knowing that such perfection existed in the world. Truly, Allah was great.

“Look how tiny those shorts are,” he said. “He has to be gay, right?”

Quỳnh, who had been half-asleep but never missed a chance to judge someone’s outfit, lifted herself on her elbows and inspected him for a moment. “Either gay or Italian,” she announced.

The guy threw his towel over his shoulder and strode off up the beach. Joe took his last look at that perfect arse, sitting up to watch it leave, then collapsed back down onto his sunlounger.

“I have been ruined for all other men,” he announced.

[akookminsupporter]

Hi Rosie! How are you? I just wanted to share. Apparently, a popular jikook fanfic writer's account was hacked on ao3 by a member of the cult. Do you know what they did? Changed JM's name on the fic to Tae's. Not just one fic, a couple. Plus, unregistered users from the cult left hateful comments on the author's stories.

I know they're fucking insane and disconnected from real life. But this? These people are gone. Nobody can ever convince them. They're so desperate because what they want and fantasize about is not translating irl, that even in the world of fiction, they go and separate Jikook in fucking ao3 fics and make them about tkk? Man, the past year and a half pushed them to the brink. They know and see how different Jimin and Jungkook are compared to the lies and manipulations they were fed.

I'm scared of what they'll do once Jikook are back, especially how they're serving together in a camp that's higher-risk and more isolated. In Psychology, a shared experience like that usually forms an even deeper level of bond.

It's honestly scary how far gone they are. I can't believe someone would fucking do this. Side note, there was another person who asked another Jikook author a couple of months ago if they could use their story and change it into a tkk one (author was not happy, but declined in a civil manner). I was already weired out by that, like why make a jikook story to a tkk one, just by changing names? Why not write one yourself? Just when I thought I'd seen it all.

Tkkrs are the very examples of JOBLESS. Because wdym they just hack into someone's ao3 account and change the names???? like who has so much time in this world

To the second anon, unfortunately, the tweet you sent is no longer available, which is why I didn’t post it.

I have to admit that when I read both ASKs, I actually laughed. That was my first reaction, and then I facepalmed myself because just when you think that subgroup couldn’t sink any lower, they go and prove you wrong. At this rate, I think they’re already making deals with the devil.

It’s just incredibly pathetic, embarrassing, and stupid. And any other synonym you can think of for all those words.

Anon 1, I get your worry about how they’ll react or behave once Jimin and Jungkook are discharged from the army, and Tae as well, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there, even though things aren’t looking great.

The other thing I take from this is that they can see that Jikook is different, even in fiction, and they want that for their ship. It’s sad, pathetic, ironic, and therefore funny all at once. I genuinely wonder if they realise that by doing things like this, they’re just validating Jikook and Jikookers in every way. It’s as if they’re confirming they want what Jikook has for their own ship and what Jikookers have as fans. Even imagination.

[stevesnightmares]

I just re-read the captive prince trilogy after 9 years so here are some thoughts and observations (I read a physical copy while listening to the audiobbok):

No spoilers

the books are super easy to read, I read each of them in a day and never once did I get bored or felt like I needed to take a break. If you enjoy them I feel like they work perfectly if you are in a reading slump.

I might be biased because I was also listening to it while reading but I feel like the writing worked just fine. I saw people say that the writing was awful but I didn't have any problems at all with it. I was never once confused by what was happening on page nor did I ever feel like too little or too much was being said and described.

One of my gripes with the writing comes in book 3 because I felt like the two parts that had Laurent POV just didn't work because it didn't feel like it was a stylistic choice and it didn't feel natural or needed, it just made me think that the author didn't know how to write that from Demen POV (which makes no sense because I know she can)

not only that but I also feel like it would've worked much better if we didn't get those scenes and continued with Demen's knowledge instead of making us privy to something he didn't know. I genuinely think they were unnecessary.

I might've missed something but in book 3 there is also a part where I felt like what Demen is thinking in a chapter and then what he claims and thinks a few chapters later don't align. With no spoilers, this is how it felt to me: chapter 1: demen thoughts: the apple fell from the tree chapter 3: demen thoughts and words: I knew the apple didn't fall on it's own and that there was a reason for it to fall.

I don't know why people say that these books handle its dark themes badly. Personally I think it handled everything quite well. Just because every 3 seconds the author isn't telling you "this is bad" it doesn't mean that it's poorly done or supports any of the bad things that happen.

The characters live in extremely flawed societies that have practices that we wouldn't condemn, so of course they will not immediately start out being against them, it wouldn't make sense, instead throughout the books and events they slowly start to realise why some things are bad. It's called character development.

Not only that, words coming out of a flawed and traumatised character shouldn't be taken as the moral of the book but as what they are: words of a flawed and traumatised character who is lashing out.

I feel like many people saw that very bad things that happen in these books and instrad of saying "I can't read that", which is fair, they decided to take the high horse and act as if it's morally wrong to like these books because bad things are portrayed in them.

Book 2 I think was my favourite, I devoured it and it was just super fun to read.

My second gripe is with Jokaste but without spoiling anything I can only say that her character was imo wasted and that it just felt like the author had 2 very different ideas of who she was in book 1 and book 3.

I LOVE laurent, he's just the type of characters that I enjoy, cold and guarded on the outside but only because he wants to protect himself while being also sweet.

Also really enjoyed many of the side characteristics which I thought were really interesting (I would've enjoyed more interactions between those other characteristics and L and D but that's a personal taste)

I actually think that 9 years ago I only read the first book and the first half of the second while skimming through the rest lmao

also I will not tell you which character I didn't like at all and found annoying when I was 16 but would die for in an instant now because you'll think 16 years old me was psychopath because what the fuck

[oknowkiss]

my lucky number - 42, drarry. please and thank you!

you got it! please enjoy! ~600 words, rated T for language. les champs-elysées - joe dassin

Harry decides to have breakfast in Paris. He’s twenty-one, it’s nine in the morning on the sixth of June, and the cleansing power of his hangover has allowed him to realise he can go anywhere he wants, with anyone, to do anything, for the rest of his life. 

His Portkey lands in an alley a short distance from the Eiffel Tower, because after the agent had asked him where he’d like to go, and after he’d replied, “Erm… France?” she had said, “The first timer package, then. Return trip is half eight. Here’s your list of attractions and instructions for a basic translation charm.” 

No matter. He has breakfast at a street-side cafe, espresso and carbs and sunlight quieting the pounding inside his head. 

He visits several of the attractions on the Portkey agent’s list: the Notre Dame, the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre. All of them are far too crowded, and by midday he’s resolved not to follow the list. After all, isn’t that the point of this excursion? To do what he wants? 

Harry has a glass too many of vin rouge at lunch and his confidence inflates in direct opposition to his experience with France, his ability to manage having time to himself, his general awareness of his surroundings and how to navigate them.

Which is to say: it’s now seven, ninety minutes before his Portkey takes him back home, and all he’s done is become increasingly lost. Harry chews on a bite of pasta and wonders if it counts as being lost, if you never had a destination to begin with? Perhaps he’s been lost — or not lost — since leaving the Forbidden Forest four years ago. Every day a step further into the void, away from his intended purpose. 

A loud, sudden coughing rouses Harry from his thoughts. Harry’s head snaps to the left, his hands already in fists, ready for action. 

“What the bloody fucking hell are you doing here?” Draco Malfoy splutters, staring at Harry with watery eyes. Around them, several diners look away. A lover’s quarrel, they presume. In Paris? How droll. 

“Malfoy?” Harry asks stupidly. It’s obviously Malfoy. No one else looks like him, which is actually quite annoying seeing as it means Harry can’t chalk it up to misconception when Malfoy sneaks into his wank fantasies. 

And no, he doesn’t want to talk about that.

“The one and only, thanks to you,” Malfoy replies meanly. A steak sits half-eaten on his plate, red juice pooling on the china. It doesn’t not remind Harry of the second floor girls bathroom.

“If you’re looking for sympathy, you’ve got the wrong orphan,” Harry says. Then, because he’s already bored with this argument, “You live in Paris, do you?” 

“What’s it to you?” Malfoy asks. He crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Nothing, I suppose.” Harry shrugs. “Forget it.” He turns back to his food.

“It’s my birthday,” Malfoy says, calling Harry’s attention again. “Well, yesterday. This is my gift to myself.”

“Eating dinner alone?” Harry asks, amused. 

“Go ahead and laugh—” Malfoy starts, but Harry cuts him off.

“I’m not laughing at you,” Harry says. “I—” He bites his lip. “I do the same thing.” 

“Other people are exhausting,” Malfoy insists, his face red. 

“Hell is other people,” Harry says. Then he's blushing, too. “I read that on a bag once.” 

“And did it hurt, reading all those words in one go?” Malfoy says. A smile plays at the corner of his mouth. 

Harry checks his watch. Half-seven. He looks down at his pasta. Mostly eaten.

“I’ve an hour before my Portkey,” Harry says, and he’s barreling forward blindly now, no idea where this will land. “Shall we order dessert?

(give me a number 1 - 100 & i'll write you a drabble based on the corresponding song on my spotify wrapped)

[nerdthatsiriuslylovesteaxx]

I was bored

I was lying in bed trying to read, I didn't particularly enjoy reading in English but Annabeth and Percy had been helping me and I didn't want that to go to waste. Then Annabeth walked in through the half open door, holding a pair of scissors.

"Finally someone to put me out of my misery." I mutter putting the book down,

"Nope, but I will be bringing that up to your therapist. I think it's time for a haircut Nico." She said smiling like a maniac,

"Oh fuck no." I say running past her and out the front door. My hair was in a braid down my back; I ran as fast as I could but I knew Annabeth was faster than me. I saw her chasing me, I could probably shadow travel away but when her minds set to something it's very hard to get her to give up. I honestly didn't care too much but why not add a bit of excitement into this. "Why the fuck are you doing this?"

"I'm bored."

"Go find someone else to annoy."

"Don't think I will Neeks." I flipped her off and continued running, she grabbed my wrist. I shadow traveled to the edge of the forest and ran towards the center, I was hoping to throw her off but she spotted me pretty quickly and ran after me. I should have been able to stay away with the lead I had but the shadow travel tired me out and Annie's fast. I was about to shadow travel away again, "You do realise if you pass out you can do whatever I want right?"

"Fuck you."

"Save that for Will." I blushed hard before shadow traveling back to my cabin, I knew I wouldn't be able to run properly after that, but I got away for a bit. "You aren't getting away that easy, Angel boy." She said walking through the door, I was honestly too tired to do anything.

"Fine, you win. But please don't fuck up too badly."

"You have such little faith in me, I'm offended."

"We both know that that is very reasonable."

"Shut up di Angelo." She quite literally pulled me into a chair and started brushing out my hair. "When's the last time you even cut it?"

"Like a month ago I think? Will cuts the ends, it terrifys him so it's always entertaining as fuck."

"You're a terrible person Nico." Annabeth laughed

"I am fully aware; what are you doing to my hair anyways?"

"I think it's time for a change."

"Oh no.... PLEASE don't dye my hair, I am never doing that shit again."

"Don't worry... but you are getting an undercut." I paused for a couple of seconds,

"Now you see the concept, I have no problem with but the thought of you doing that...."

"Oh shut up I can actually be accurate."

"Fine, I trust you." Annabeth sectioned my hair into two parts plaiting them separately, one around the bottom and edges, one on top.

"You ready?"

"I really don't care, honestly I just wanted to make this hard for you."

"Of course you did." The daughter of Athena said while cutting off the bottom braid before buzzing the now short hair, she threw the braid in front of me. "Well that was a lot of hair."

"No shit." I laughed before hitting Annabeth lightly in the shoulder, she started taking out the rest of my hair that was in a braid and brushing it out again.

"What do you think Will's gonna say?"

"He's not going to give a fuck let's be honest with ourselves."

"You seem so certain on that."

"He didn't care when I got twenty tattoo in one day, I mean he was concerned and gave me a bunch of pain killers and kept me in the infirmary for a day but that's unrelated. I doubt he's going to give two fucks about a haircut."

"I am not going to ask why you got twenty tattoos in one day." Annabeth started cutting the rest of my wavy, thick, black hair to just around my shoulders, layering it before adding some bangs, that were long enough for me to put behind my ears. "So thoughts?"

"I'd love to give them but there isn't a mirror here."

"That's irrelevant, I want to see Will's reaction."

"That's the whole reason you did this wasn't it?"

"Naaa, I was just really fucking bored." I laughed as I ran my fingers through my hair, it was so much shorter than I had, had it in years but was kind of nice. Honestly I also really wanted to see what Will would say, I didn't think he'd be judgemental or anything. But the thoughts always had to cross my mind, all the 'what ifs?' I push them out of my mind and tell Annabeth to wait for a minute so I can wash and properly do my hair. It took about a quarter of the time it used to but still that moment of time made me think of every possible reaction for Will to have, I decided to leave my hair out as we walk to the Apollo cabin. I knocked of the door and unsurprisingly Will answered it, he saw me and kind of froze, a bit shocked.

"So what do you think?" I muttered, Will pulled me closer to him and sunk into a kiss, he tasted like strawberries. He ran his fingers through my hair; he was warm always, smelling like rubbing alcohol mixed with roses and a sweet scent I could never really place. I wrapped my arms around his neck standing on my tiptoes to reach him, grabbing the ends of Will's short, curly, blonde hair. As we broke the kiss he leaned down and whispered,

"You look amazing my Angel." I blushed and that is when we realised Annabeth was recording the whole thing and was running off to cabin one to show Jason.

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

Not a helpless chapter (sorry about that, the next chapters long and I haven't had time to write)

Pls give advice cuz I don't think the plot makes sense.

I don't know if I really like this ficlet, I started it in the middle of writing the Ariel chapter because I hated writing it so much I needed something to write that wasn't helpless.

I don't really like it but I feel like might as well post it.

I have a Angel Dust ficlet that I wrote a few weeks ago so comment if u want to see it

You will be getting Harry Potter, specifically marauders shit soon because I have far too many wolfstar ideas that I want to write that I haven't.

If you read my Wattpad stuff I promise I'll try to update Not All Hero's Have Happy Endings and if anyone wants (don't know who's reading it at this point cuz I've barely started) Mischief Managed, I was actually very excited when I started it but I think the style might change a lot cuz I started that like two years ago.

If you have any fandoms u want fics for I will try to write some, just comment.

The mystery in my mind is taking over, maybe the time is up. I will always be there with you, I promise I'll always be there.

Love,

-Siri

[scoringeffects]

NEED to read a natemac cmd fic kind of desperately now. Um. also thinking about the people connecting them… off the top of my head, sidcros, tyson barrie, mitch marner? like. cmd in cole harbor like I Am Here To See Sid. Uh. Definitely The Only Reason. ALSOOO weren’t they on that one golf trip together with sidcros and marner too???

GUYS. i cant believe we forgot. team north america. they were actually teammates at some point. also according to my personal favourite nhl related site hockey teammates notable shared teammates, outside of tbarrie, include: aaron ekblad (more 1oa connections and such, via tna), am34 (see aaron ekblad), nail yakupov (rip), our beloved rnh (on tna, more 1oa angst and such, something something rnh seeing how connor is w leon and then how he is w natemac at the world cup and then having a sit down with him), jeichel, JODROU ! (team north america i miss u every single day, something something jodrou having a sit down w natemac 'we broke up three years ago bud either fuck mcdavid or stop flirting with him for all our sakes'), calvin pickard, and also burakovsky and macdermid who were both on the otters w connor and the avs w nate

ALSO. somehow over the years nate's turned into connor's most consistent hook up (they were messing about during tna, spilled over into the regular season - not every time they played each other because sometimes they really do have to dip out the city as soon as they've taken their skates off, but nearly every time, and the all star game is. well. like sure, its entirely for fans and to make money but watching connor win fastest skater year on year... sometimes the competancy kink wins out over the competitiveness) and OBVIOUSLY. this changes during the 2022 playoff series (connor has some misplaced blame in the anger/disapointment post-ecf (probably knows it's misplaced but wallows in his misery), airs nate's texts and calls and the tiktoks and tweets he sends him entirely, cannot think about him without thinking about how much pain leon was in during that series, can't watch him lift the cup, can't watch him be so fucking proud of cale, without feeling sick with jealousy, and obviously someone (rnh/tbarrie..?) notices how he's so weird about it all and connor's insistent that it has nothing to do w how they were hooking up ('it's not just hooking up if it's been going on since 2016, connor' 'what else would you call it?' 'the most annoying courtship ive ever had to witness. i just got here from the leafs, connor') and that he can in fact be super normal just in general and maybe this is the natural end of their situationship ('you are way too old to be using words like 'situationship', tyson' 'who just got asked about their biological clock, connor') and its fine. really) AND THEN sid extends an invitation to connor (and to leon becuase lbr sidcros INVENTED the hockey boybestfriends who cant do anything without each other) to train at gary's that summer and connor accepts a bit too quickly knowing he'll have to sweet talk it to his agent a bit because he did agree to biosteel like, six months ago, but cmon it's sid! and in the euphoria of training at gary's (max. 20 people) instead of biosteel (half the damn gta) it slips his mind that cole harbour's second son will also be there until leon reminds him when he facetimes him. ('are you sure training with crosby is worth seeing your ex for half the summer?' 'dylan's at biosteel' '...' 'leon i have got to quit the nhl. he's not even my ex.'). ANYWAY. training at gary's also involves jonathan drouin and it's fun for connor to see what nate's like around someone he really does care about, instead of, say, a fuckbuddy and leon notices him be so fucking weird about drouin and connor's watching sidney freaking crosby and brad freaking marchand do puck battle drills in nova freaking scotia when he realises he might actually have a crush on nathan mackinnon. who's flirting with jo drouin so aggressively connor has half a mind to send a text into the old erie group chat sincerely apologising for when he was clumsily trying to flirt with dylan. (leon tells him later that helping jo with his wristshot is not actually flirting, because helping someone with thier job is not flirting, and connor mortifyingly realises that all those times leon wanted help with his stick dangles back in hte day he was not flirting. leon also tells him that he has got to get his jealously under control before jo notices, because he really doesn't deserve to get caught in all this, connor). something something eventually jo does talk to him and ends up asking if he's with leon 'out of curiosity, you guys seem close' and connor can't help himself but ask similarly about nate -> 'we messed around as kids, years and years ago, but he, uh, has his eye on someone' -> connor pretends he isnt crushed about it, because he's not, obviously, and just because nate's been connor's most consistent hook up definately doesnt mean that connor was nate's, and connor can kind of only assume it's cale, or quite literally anyone else in the denver area (is there a greater denver area? it's not really connor's bussiness to know, anymore or ever, really) -> connor and nate FINALLY. talk

maybe at the fated golf trip w sid and mitch? mitch is making nate laugh and giggle and connor realises he has it really fucking bad when he thinks that he wants to be hte one to make nate laugh like that. jesus christ -> ends up coming last by an insanely large margin -> after nate's like let me make you feel better, and they havent done this since the regular season, and jo told him that nate likes someone, and connor just, can't, be a convenient hook up for him anymore, because he knows the way these things go and he knows that the smart thing to do is to quit while youre ahead and failing that, pull the parachute when you're falling, not when youre crashing into the ocean, and nate thinks. either he can respect that, and that's fine, or he can push, just a little, because it's connor and he's pretty sure he's been a bit in love with him since team north america (and tyson has a tendancy to tell him that he falls in love with his friends as easy as breathing, but it's a different type with connor, because he loves cale, he loves gabe, he loves EJ and tyson and jo, and yeah sure he's a little bit in love with all of them, but connor he's wholly in love with, so much so that he doesnt really know what to do with himself, doesn't know what to do when he sees oilers admin post clips of him, leon and tyson messing around, or when he sees him and ekblad turn back into sixteen year olds with eachother or when he sees the way he sticks to leon's side like there's nowhere else he can be, wants to accept that he wouldnt even crack top ten of connor's list of people he cares a lot about, but.) anwya. -> nate pushes a bit connor thinks nate knows? and has known the entire camp and gets a bit upset about it -> nate literally just found out now. world changed. stunned. tyson cannot find out for at least a year. he owes cale a slushie (cale, who was there at the all star game. cale who shoved him in connor's direction when they were all at the bar and told him to stop making eyes at him if he wasn't intending on picking him up). -> they get together ♥️ eventually.

[cock-ainee]

Fortuitous pt. 1

Sanemi cosplayer x fem!reader

_____________________________

Word count: 1.5k

Notes: So, I'll be completely honest - I have no idea what i'm doing there and why. The idea just popped in my head - as something i'd like to do, haha - but then i thought of making a story out of it. So! I want to say - this is not a typical fanfiction with Sanemi, it's about reader with a cosplayer!

Enjoy!

Since her childhood years, YN has been always viewed as a normal, sweet, intelligent girl. Everybody, always, has been jealous of her knowledge, grades, judged her every move and pointed out smallest mistakes.

But yes, YN has always been a normal girl.

Going into her teenage years, she had plans - ambitions, big hopes for the future, aiming for college and a good middle school to get her ready info further life.

But when she actually got accepted into her new school, she didn't realise how much of a mistake it would actually be.

The first year was going quite well, nothing seemed to be foreshadowing the nightmare that her school days would become. But as YN's best friend - only true friend in class she had - changed schools. Gradually, YN has dropped her grades, and started closing up from others.

Going into second year, her life became an absolute nightmare. Scared of talking to people, teachers, ditching school, getting authorities over her head - it seemed like NOTHING was going well anymore.

Her cousin enraged her, also. She never had perfect relationship with her, but what made her most furious was their conversation weeks ago.

°°°

Why do you even want to switch schools?? With your attitude, you're always going to complain about anything. Everything's going to be the same whatever you do. <

YN gazed at the message, her mind flaring with anger.

The next messages her cousin sent were just self-centered yapping about how she struggled with her own work, her colleagues, her situation, her mood, her feelings - her, her, her, her. Not even once has she thought of YN's feelings. The fact she may not be in total control of the things going on in her life.

> Go fuck yourself

YN texted back, seething the same words trough her gritted teeth.

Since then, she understood that she doesn't want to have anything to do with that bitch.

°°°

YN was scrolling trough Instagram - once again ignoring the fact she should study - and noticed a quite pretty post. A cosplay of her favorite character.

Oh, right! Because there was an obsession YN had. It was Sanemi Shinazugawa - a character of her all time favorite anime.

- Fucking hot.. it would be lucky to have someone cosplay him for me.. -

She stared at the pic for a moment with a blank expression on her face. And then she blinked, because then it clicked.

Usually YN overthinked everything she did - but not this time. She texted the man without hesitation.

> I've got a deal for you???

And then she waited.

Regretted her decision.

Then waited, waited, waited.

It was agonizing, almost. The hope of the man texting back was slowly fading, replaced by a shame caused by her doing. She was so taken over by this revelation that she dreamed of it, until one day, finally, she woke up to a reply.

What kind of deal?? <

Oh now THAT was the moment for action.

Seeing he was active, she carefully chose a reply.

> I'll pay you to cosplay Sanemi for me

Oh now that's new. If you want a pic with me, i won't make you pay. I suppose you live nearby??? <

The girl's face heated up at his words. From embarrassment, but also because he would be willing to take a picture with her for free. But that wasn't what she wanted.

> No, i don't want a picture. I'll pay you, for pretending to be my boyfriend.

He read that. He's seen that.

Silence.

And do I get to be a lil touchy 😏 <

> I'll cut your salary in half

Worth it <

> Is that a yes??

Let's say so. Where do i meet you up, princess? <

> In front of my school tomorrow, 7.50. I'll send you the adress later

YN felt like she needed a cold shower to take that news. And so, she went to the bathroom and spend nearly an hour there, nearly dying from excitement.

Then it was time to tuck herself to bed, to the thoughts of having a.. new boyfriend???

°°°

The next day, YN was waiting for her "boyfriend" in front of the school. And just when she was about to give up to her anxiousness and get inside the building, somebody grabbed her by the hips and she was pulled against a firm chest.

- Hey, princess~! Not like i stalked your profile, but i did stalk your profile. You're looking even cuter in real life than those silly pictures -

- W-WHAT?!! -

YN was so startled, she almost pushed her elbow into the guy's face.

- Are you insane?? Stop attacking, immediately! -

Just in case not to get murdered, the guy let go of her and stepped aside.

And when YN looked up she was even more startled than before. The guy was towering above her, at least a head taller than her. His hair were white, and he had this makeup indicating those iconic scars on his face. He was wearing a simple white button up shirt - with a few top buttons left undone - and black pants that were tight around his waist.

- I-is that a wig..? -

The guy's face expression softened as a chuckle left his lips. She didn't miss the fact that he had purple contacts.

- Oh? No, i dyed them this way. -

He put a hand over her shoulder, bringing her a tiny bit closer to himself.

- You wanted me to be your boyfriend, why so silent now?? Do you not love me?? -

He pouted, enjoying the teasing. YN huffed, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and pulling him after her.

- Let's just get inside -

They didn't exchange a word while walking, but he changed their position, so that now their hands were entwined together.

As they walked down the hallway, some people who knew YN were eyeing her - and she, deep down, swelled with pride.

°°°

YN had to be honest. Having a man like that walking around with her for the whole day, like a puppy, was satisfying. Her lovely "Sanemi" was all smiley - a little out of character - and his acting skills were perfect. He had no problems with playing pretend, as if he and YN knew themselves for a longer time than just those few hours.

- Wait. What even is your name? -

YN spoke about that matter after the first lesson, when she realised she never asked him this - and there were no informations about it on his profile.

- Oh fuck, right, i never told you. I'm loosing my head here with you, see? -

He let our a chuckle and brushed a hand trough his white hair.

- My name's Aiden. But you can just call me Sanemi, you know. That's what i just am for you, right? -

YN raised her eyebrow questionably.

- You sound pretentious -

- Huh?? No offense. You're just oversensitive -

The girl didn't like his response at all, but decided to just wave it off.

For the rest of the day, she had a loyal puppet running around her like he was over the moon with her.

Maybe he was?

Or what's more possible, he just wanted to be worth the money.

What YN noticed, and wasn't against, was for sure, how touchy he was getting. Seems like his message wasn't just a joke and he really was taking the opportunity. Though they knew each other for like... Max 9 hours, YN didn't complain. It would probably be the only time a man would be touching her anyways.

After school, it was time to pay him off. Aiden got dragged out of the school by his "girlfriend" - while he talked with the friends he apparently made - and when YN made sure they were far enough from familiar people, stuck a bunch of bills into his hand.

- Isn't it too much? -

His purple contacts pierced trough her as his confused face expression almost made her giggle.

- I'm paying in advance -

Her explanation was fairly brief, but Aiden didn't comment it. The thing that surprised him was how she just chose to ignore him as she quickly walked down the street.

The girl jolted in surprise as she felt her hand being grabbed.

- Why are you running away from me? Let me just walk you home -

The white haired man spoke, taking YN's silence as an agreement. When they stood in the door to her house, he did so much as to lean down, kiss her cheek and smile before walking away with a little wave.

- See you tomorrow! -

YN was too stunned to answer to his words, as she stared at him before he disappeared around the corner.

°°°

When she laid in bed, the only thing she could think about were his hands over her, the WHOLE day. She knew she shouldn't, but she felt a tiny squeeze in her heart anytime she recalled how his hands would squeeze her waist or hold onto her own.

And so, even though he wasn't hers, it seemed that YN's "boyfriend" would be what pulls her out of the cage of her own misery.

[feeling-high-with-pride]

Thinking about Odin and Magpie...

On some brainrot stuff again so I’m gonna ramble about the Arrow siblings. 

A long while ago I saved a translation of the nordic runes in panel 1547, seen below;

I can’t recall who did the translation (whether it was from here or Reddit, so if someone knows I’ll add credits to them!) but it reads:

“I woke up this morning and realised that I could not remember the sound of her voice. Her laugh echoes in my head when I try hard enough to imagine it. But it's nothing more than an empty weightless reflection of reality teetering on the cusp of my memory and it only brings me pain to try and remember it. But my fear of forgetting her is much more powerful and so I must remember and end up at the same question of everybody in the universe. What did we do to deserve this. Why me?"

This, written in Odin’s notebook presumably, was shown directly after Moribund Malediction. There is a level of intense melancholy associated with this writing, exploring a sense of longing to remember those who are no longer with us. If Odin did write this, then there are two characters that this reflection piece could be referring to; either Magpie or Odin’s mother. I’m more inclined to believe it’s Odin’s mother in this sense, as it’s been a longer period of time since she’s been around versus Magpie’s disappearance about 2 and a half years prior to the main story. 

Tragically, Odin is forgetting his mother. 

It doesn’t help that Pedri (later in the story when Odin is unveiling his “tragic backstoryTM”) was shown to be tormenting Odin through the visage of his mother. Being shown so many illusions, and perhaps turning to the herbs he smokes as a way of deterring Pedri, it would make sense if Odin has begun to forget what his mother was actually like when he was younger. It seems like the only good memory or dream he has of her is from when he was born around Gildhaust and she was showing him around. 

It would be really sad if Odin was forgetting Magpie too, but from the clearer shots of her in his memories I do doubt it. 

Speaking of Magpie, I went back to check out some panels I knew existed (namely panels 1275-1277, which appear just after Ava is trapped in the Gate to Paradise machine. 

Looking back on these...it has to be Magpie! The bow, the blue...it just makes sense!

The first image shows Magpie looking rather happy, holding the hand of a featureless figure. This is likely Magpie with her ‘inbisible friend’, as she told Odin when they were younger. The inclusion of a happy sun (I think it is one on the righthand side?) is interesting, given that Aedinfell hasn’t been with a proper sun for a long time. 

The second image shows Magpie looking much more upset and crying, standing alongside two other girls of similar (if not exact) stature. This must be her sisters; Crow and Raven. As the youngest of the triplets, she often was given a lot of grief (in Odin’s words), so this drawing seems to exemplify that! It’s possible she was bullied by her sisters, or teased for being the youngest. 

The third image is a bit more confusing in my opinion. There’s 6 vertical lines followed by a faceless girl. It doesn’t appear to be Magpie specifically, since the bow is missing, but it could always be her regardless. My first thought (which could be wrong) was that the lines plus the girl equal to seven, like the seven deadly sins that the Hosts are meant to portray. Ava = Wrath, Odin = Pride, Gil = Envy, Maggie = Lust, Erios = Greed(?) and then three others that have yet to be revealed. What if this signifies that Magpie is the last Host we’ll meet pertaining to these sins? Honestly she’s probably not, but it’d be pretty cool. 

If anyone has thoughts on that last image I’d love to hear them.

Anyway, I guess the point of these rambles is that I think the Arrow siblings need a big hug and lots of blankets because holy shit this family is traumatised af, and definitely need the additional care and love that they missed out on getting when they were kids. 

[esta-elavaris]

Tagged by @wanderdreamer thank you 💜💜

Favorite Color: if we're just going by the ones I wear the most, black, green, red, and gold. Big fan of the red nails and red lipstick combo. This is just a tricky one, though, because I'm a fan of every colour in the right context. But I'm a big ol' goth so that influences things lolol.

Last Song: Passion's Killing Floor - HIM (god, Ville Valo's lyrics tho)

Last Movie: Last Night in Soho -- this is a weird one for me because uhhh like the protagonist I absolutely did not Do Well when I went to uni in London from a personal standpoint, so watching it always brings that back, but it's such a good movie.

Currently Watching: I've been slowly picking my way through Snowpiercer with a one episode per night at most pace. I watched the first ~season and a half a little over a year ago so it's been fun to come back to! I'm so bad for "watching" things by putting them on as background noise while I write, and then I have no idea what's actually going on, so it's been a nice change of pace to actually just sit and properly watch something for an hour each evening.

Other Stuff I Watched This Year: The Great, which I really enjoyed once I got used to the tone of it. I also keep meaning to catch up with Peaky Blinders, but it's one of those that you really have to properly watch and like I said I'm bad at that. I also want to rewatch Outlander from the beginning before I get into the new and final season, so that could be a good background noise shout! Also slowly getting into The White Lotus. And I finally completed the Sopranos this month, after swearing I would for years and somehow (?!?!) managing to avoid spoilers for the ending.

Oooo also the Serpent Queen! Didn't expect to enjoy that one as much as I did!

Shows I Dropped This Year: There've been quite a few but I could not name them because I tend to get 30 mins in, realise every character could die in the next scene and I would not care, and that's that. The Last of Us fell victim to that. I got to a point where I was so bored and only watching it for the hype, which is no reason to do anything you don't enjoy.

Currently Reading: God, getting a Switch lite decimated my previously very good reading habit this month, but I'm getting back into it. Currently rereading The Two Towers (just finished the Helm's Deep chapter), and reading David Goggins' second book for the first time. I like having a non-fiction one on the go because I always find it inspiring, whereas fiction is just pure escapism for me 💜

Thank you for the tag! I enjoyed it!

Tagging @ass-deep-in-demons, @neverisle, @scyllas-revenge, @quillofspirit and @trenko-heart

[elthadriel]

writer ask meme: 13 + 29?

Hey!

13. How much planning do you do before writing?

It really depends on the length of the fic but I always do some. For shorter fics it's often bullet points of the beats I want to hit and the longer the fic the more in depth those will get. With very long stuff, <20k, the planning process is a whole thing. I make tables and charts breaking down thematic plot lines and how they relate to each other vs the driving plot.

I don't have a good one to share just now, but once I finish my big bang I might share the outline for it.

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

Have the opening 800 words from the Fox/Thorn fic that I started almost two years ago and just never seem to have the time to crawl back to.

-----

Thorn comm’d Fox about two minutes form his office, which was enough time for Fox to send a reply that Thorn would ignore, Fox to realise he was being ignored, send a second, ruder message that Thorn would also ignore, and finally resign himself to his fate.

The office wasn’t locked when Thorn arrived, and he let himself in.

“I brought you a present,” he announced, placing the bottle down on Fox’s desk, finding space between a stack of filmsi, two data pads, and five empty cups of caf. At least some of the caf looked like it had been sitting for a while and Fox hadn’t downed it all in the last couple of hours.

How much did Fox need to piss?

“You know, when a senior officer comms you, you are expected to read and obey them,” Fox drawled, somehow eyeing the bottle up suspiciously even through his helmet.

“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t understand the message?” Thorn sat in the seat across from Fox, wondering if Fox would be genuinely annoyed if he put his boots up on Fox’s desk or just pretend to be.

“You’re right, this is my fault. I forget you were trained by Alpha-31. I’ll use smaller words next time. Is asshole still too long for you?” Fox hadn't put his work down, but he had lent back in his chair and Thorn could hear the smile in his voice even if it was hidden by his helmet.

“I don’t know, Sir, maybe if you attach a picture?”

Fox snorted and Thorn beamed. Success.

“Seriously though, the drink, Fox. I had to pull rank on a whole squad of troopers to get it for you.” All he’s actually said was that Fox might like the last remaining bottle and all competitors had abruptly lost interest; they were a good bunch.

“What is it?” Fox asked, still not reaching for it.

“Not a clue, some fruit based soda. It's very popular on [planet]. The senator’s nephew gave us a crate.”

“Uh huh.”

Thorn sighed, plenty loudly enough for Fox to hear.

Fox glanced back down at his datapad and there was no way Thorn was letting that fly. He popped the seal on his helmet and pulled it off, dumping it onto the ground by. Checking Fox had looked up again he pulled the tie from his hair letting it fall around his shoulders. It probably looked awful, it had been tied up all day and was still half holding that shape.

Fox didn’t move, except a slight lift of his head and Thorn wished he’d waited until Fox had removed his own helmet.

His hair was very much not regulation and if any other CG officer tried it Fox would hold them down to shave it off himself if he had too. Thorn worked his hands through the loose curls, trying to pull his hair back into a half decent shape.

“It’s against the regs for a member of the Guard to remove his helmet while on duty—“

“Not on duty,” Thorn pointed out.

“—Or otherwise representing the Guard including but not limited to wearing other pieces of his armour or in areas under CG jurisdiction.”

Thorn rolled his eyes, a big obvious motion. Fox never mentioned his hair length though.

“Report me if you want, I know the man in charge and he’s a little bitch,” Thorn said and, stars, he could picture exactly how Fox would be smirking at the challenge.

“Need me to come over there and spank you, Commander?”

Thorn’s mouth went a little dry. He wasn’t even into that shit.

“Big talk for a man too scared to drink a soda he hasn’t heard of,” Thorn said and decided Fox would probably only pretend to be annoyed and placed one boot and then the other up onto Fox’s desk.

Fox lent back in his chair, tossing his datapad onto his desk. Thorn tallied that up as his second win.

“Thorn, the last food you brought me gave the worst shits of my life, the time before that was, according to Prayers, literally poisonous,” Fox pointed out.

“I had both just fine,” Thorn said, “It’s not my fault your delicate constitution can’t handle anything with more flavour than a purple ration bar.”

“You know that excuse won’t hold up when your dragged in front of a tribunal for murdering a superior.”

“There’s just so few chances to advance my career, sir.”

Fox snorted and rolled his shoulders in a way that suggested he’d been sitting still for far too long.

“How was I supposed to know it would make you sick? They told me it was a delicacy.” Thorn had certainly enjoyed it.

“To [aliens], sure. To humans it’s a chance to explain to your medic that trusting you doesn’t require brain damage and regular stupidity will do the job just fine.”

[robotslenderman]

Saw your reblog,so

Dusty!!!!!

How is the Wendy fic going?????

Any headcanons?

*shouts in distance, sounds like the echo like noise across a large playground or empty parking lot "

Nossiesss!!!!?!?

I've actually started the first read of Wendyfic!

My fic writing process basically goes like this:

First draft. Usually in dot points, tho not always. Very messy. Like think of the average first draft -- it's way worse lmao. Wendyfic's first draft is actually surprisingly neat!

Pretend it doesn't exist for at least 3 months. I went 6.

First read! This is where I take notes on themes, structure, make notes of where to insert foreshadowing, etc.

I make a summary of the story afterwards, and a summary of character arcs, themes, etc, based on these notes.

Then after that read I go through and read again, this time making a summary for each scene.

Overhaul time. I fix up the summaries I made before and make them summaries of what I want the story to be, noting which scenes have to be chopped, which have to be combined, etc etc.

Second draft. It's basically an entire rewrite, especially if the first draft was just dot points. Especially because my first drafts are usually in present tense and I need to switch everything to past -- it's just easier to completely rewrite.

Let it sit, but not for as long this time.

Polish draft.

At minimum the draft I publish is the 3rd draft, but usually it's the 4th. For really difficult chapters it's the 5th. The bolded step is where Wendyfic is right now.

And like. I know I write fic for free but I've always prided myself on trying to be as professional with my fics as I can be, making them the best they can be. I've submitted one shots that I half assed and I wasn't really proud of them even if people loved them (the Roger fic where he touches Hvare for the first time -- don't really like how I did it).

It does mean tho that I take forever to actually publish the damn thing, but I swore to myself years ago I'd never be one of those writers that half assed a long form fic and abandoned it partway through because "well shut up and be grateful you're getting it FOR FREE." I think part of dismantling capitalism means dismantling the idea that money is the only thing worth making an effort for.

But yeah!

Wendyfic's first draft is a bigger mess than the first draft of the last fic was, so she's going to need an even bigger overhaul. There's too much of her running around ordering people to do things for her, and not enough of her actually doing things and overcoming challenges.

I am nervous about publishing this one though. Wendy was a very moral person in Radio Silence, but in the sequel she's essentially discovered just how hard it is to do the right thing and it's really chipped away at her morale and her ability to stick to her principles and that's going to disappoint a lot of people who were proud of her for her "Fuck you, do the right thing" attitude in RS. She does falter in ways that are pretty big that she wouldn't have during 2004. She makes one pretty big decision I would never make in a million years, and I just know people are going to accuse me of sanctioning that decision just because I wrote about it, but I'm going to write it anyway because I like to write fucked up things and people making fucked up choices. I'm going to slap a pretty big disclaimer on the fic because of it though -- people are going to find it genuinely triggering.

I have personal experience with something similar (someone else made the same choice Wendy did) and I guess it was my way of working out how people can make the decisions they (and Wendy) do, but I'm not going to say more than that because fuck anyone who thinks I should dig up my trauma publicly to justify writing about fictional trauma in a fucked up way.

Sorry, that was vague.

As to headcanons and so on -- really hard to comment at this point lol because anything can change. I'm thinking of dividing one character into two, but then I realised that that character actually does well enough staying the way they are so I might not go through with it after all.

I will say tho:

I stopped the final draft just before the climax because I genuinely had no idea how it was going to play out, and figured I should reread and edit before I get that far. So I still have no idea how it's going to end. Hell, I didn't fully know how RS was going to end until a couple of weeks before I published it.

The Baltimore Nosferatu Primogen is a swan because the Baltimore nossies thought it was funny. Alas, he's not my invention, he is @orodrethsgeek's, but they let me borrow him!

The Vykosoviches show up and so does Sullivan, but I don't know how much of that will stay in.

Cieszmir showed up as well but he'll probably be cut out because he was pure self indulgence. Unless he shows up and does something in the climax-I-don't-know-about, because I'm quite sure his uncle will and he hasn't been in any scenes his uncle hasn't been in. If enough people yell at em to keep him lol I might

At one point Wendy gets chased by a serial killer with a chainsaw.

The Washington DC Warren is SO COOL but I won't spoil it aaaaaa

I have no idea if Cock Robin will be in this fic or not. He was in the first draft but didn't really do anything so unless I can figure out what to do with him in the next draft he'll probably be cut out entirely.

[nothingneverforever]

Forever in a day

A comparative review of All of Us Strangers (2023) and Rye Lane (2023) - an unintentional exploration of too many different worlds all revolving around one single sun… to be continued tomorrow morning <3

——————————

Hey it’s the same day but here I am :-)

Starting with All of Us Strangers, I’d been meaning to watch it always but I very very seriously thought it was a purely “sexy” film, anticipated and lauded for its sexiness and nothing else. So today, part of my very extended long weekend, I was looking exclusively for romantic movies, something I reminded Imran of every 3 seconds as we scrolled through every streaming app… it was supposed to be Leap Year or Notting Hill, both of which I’ve seen over a dozen times and either of the two or umm literally anything else would have been an infinitely better choice for my general mood and happiness and hopefulness and sense of joy in this life and world…. By which I mean, this movie was just unbelievably and utterly shockingly depressing and needlessly so too honestly. I don’t really care about the source material cos meh idk anything about Japanese media as I am simply too intellectually lazy to engage in anything real these days so yea not knowing what the original novel (Strangers, Taichi Yamada, 1987) was about, as a movie I just don’t see why this had to go the way it did. I hate to say it of an Andrew Haigh film (when I saw his name flash across the title card I thought he had directed Lilting for some reason - which I’d loved and written about in 2015 for my IB film exam essay on intercultural male same-sex couples in movies lol seriously I love my old work ethic and curiosity and discipline!!! But anw no turns out I only know Andrew Haigh from Looking and Weekend and not Lilting) - especially given all the name drops in the parenthesis, it’s clear that I have found much enjoyment and pleasure in gay films throughout my teenage years till present but … think this movie honestly needn’t have been made if it was going to go in this direction, I’m so so so freaking serious. Just don’t fucking make it lol simple??! What’s a tale that’s completely barren of the singlest sliciest tiniest freaking speck of joy? What’s the point of it? What comes of it?????! Why the fuck do I have to sit through this??!

I’d compare it to The Haunting of Hill House in a way… in this, there were painful tragedies that spanned generations and presented with literal daily horrors in fresh ways but there was always a meaning to it, a direction the terrors were pushing our characters towards and an eventual peace amidst the shards still strewn across the ground but in Strangers lacking that, it just leaves us miserable honestly… so what’s the point? Everyone’s dead and he’s lost and alone and …? Is that life? Nah. Again, you must know how much it surprises me to say I don’t like a gay film which has not only the two main leads who did do so wonderfully and who I really like but also Jamie Bell who has had my heart since I watched the rented Billy Elliot DVD in my home like a decade and a half ago and also Claire Foy who I don’t know much but love by extension through my mother’s love for her… so with all that for me to say this film really pissed me off means so freaking much. I hate you!!!!!!!!!! Stupid depressing movie seemingly for the sake of merely depressing. Soooo cool wow 🙄🙄🙄 sadness isn’t the only deep emotion you guys know that right? Wake up la…

(If anyone cares to follow my thoughts, just read the wiki plot summary and spoil it for yourself because it is seriously not worth the heartache and pain of watching the “”plot twists”” unfold irl)

Yet somehow, I had it in me to still seek out another romance film later that night… see, Strangers, even in shit mood on shit days, hope prevails okay? Actually wait as I’m typing this, I realise okay perhaps Adam (Andrew Scott)’s hopefulness in the film manifested in a way that presented itself to me as utter despair and depression but to him, perhaps imagining a full life and romance with his suicided-neighbour was indeed the equivalent of me looking for a new happy film? Do you know what I mean? What I’m saying is that perhaps I am a little wrong and perhaps the stupid idiot nonsense depressing film was intended as hopeful lol??? But in which case, it still sucks cos it wasn’t at all and IT IS DAMN IDIOT LA

Okay so

UNLIKE THE IDIOT MOVIE

And unlike Adam

I wanted to find a genuine real tangible amount of joy so I looked through yet more romance films and settled on Rye Lane which I’d never heard of:

Recognized the guy from Alien: Romulus which I’d just watched in cinemas with Jade and Imran a few months ago and which was such a nice experienceeee and this guy was so sweet and lovely in it and it seems to simply be a part of his authentic self as it transferred so well through the small screen this time around again and I love him yay!

Decided to write about these two very different films together under the header (Forever in a Day) which is my adaptation of Big K.R.I.T.’s 4eva N a Day which I just found so so so so so moving, something I used to listen to so so much years ago. Forever in a day, not and a day, because my world today had indeed just been contained within a day. Yet there has been so so so much within… the shock hurt frustration from All of Us Strangers before being followed by the genuine and surprisingly realistic mirth of Rye Lane. It’s been a lot for me on a day where I’d already been experiencing tonnes of discomfort from avoiding work and even avoiding thinking about thinking about work so you can imagine how much this world contained really.

The only thing I didn’t quite enjoy about Rye Lane was the little bit of manic pixie symptoms in the female characters writing but I think I wanted to like it enough that I was immune to it after a while and even felt rather charmed by it. And just like his Aliens character, this random actor whose name is David Jonsson for whatever reason is seriously too good la!! And I’ll use the word sweet again and again because it just seems to exude so authentically from his eyes…

Both films are very specifically London-based and London-laden and both cinematographically as well as conceptually the difference lies in the darkness (Strangers) vs bright colour (Lane), the aloneness vs the community, the stifled claustrophobia vs the expansive vulnerability most of all which had to be shared… actually im on a roll so let me present with more striking juxtapositions for the two films, not to compare them but to illustrate why the latter was so so needed for me on the same day the former consumed me: belatedness vs timeliness, post-fact reflection vs live introspection, ummmm ok wait im sure i have more genius up my sleeves… okay yes: all-consuming fear vs a radiating fear-driven gall and thrill, and stuckness vs movement.

You know the saddest thing is before Paul Mescal’s character was revealed to have been dead for 99% of Strangers without our knowledge, I was very ready to add the film into my top 30 movies of all time after a few more rewatches. I could deal with the dead parents being imagined as real and living given the whole healing his inner child plot line and I could deal with his imagined world differing greatly from reality until the fucking one singlest strand of happiness we could hold on to also proved to be mere gossamer that melted away… you know what I just realised - it’s so so so cheap and silly for Harry (Paul Mescal) to have been dead. If alive and if their relationship were “real”, was it not sad and tragic and haunting enough on its own? It was already such an insular experience, so utterly isolating even through its connectedness, so haunted by their own histories where they barely knew whether they each had the strength to even begin to want to reveal to one another. Is that not sad enough? Is that not already utterly provocative enough for audiences to connect with the deep and blue parts of our souls? Are we that simple minded that we only see sadness when Harry had to commit suicide? It’s a bit insulting actually the more I think about it. Like if sadness and grief was the goal, prettyyy sure we’re capable of feeling that from the start bruh 🙄 it was absolutely already what it needed to be before the cheap reveal imo. Seriously, Haigh got what he wanted already - we felt it along with the characters. We felt all their individual and mutual pain. Every single bit of the relationship was so so so so sad and we knew it. The movie was good guys…..but now it sucks af…..

So while neither of these two films would make it into my top favourites, they will both definitely stay with me and Rye Lane may not warrant a rewatch, it’s no Notting Hill but it was great great great fun honestly and I think finally after about 5 years of wallowing in a strange prison of predictability only (which explains my compulsion to rewatch old shows nonstop has gotten more and more limiting and unfulfilling than before), I am starting to see the beauty again in being more like the old maya who would dive in to so much so readily - knew little about these two films today, especially Rye, and hey look, it’s midnight and I’m hunched on my bed typing away to get my thoughts out so this is healthy and meaningful and much needed stimulation and I hope I hope to continue committing myself to this <3 to more movies and movies and movies and movies ahead!

(Sleepy now, will proof read tmr perhaps)