#Today’s 1 minute Philosophy

[stoicoftheday]

How to Feel Truly Alive Every Day

A friend of mine used to feel like his life was getting a bit boring, and he just didn’t feel alive anymore. So, one day, he decided to change that by doing a tandem skydive. That experience gave him such a rush that he felt a spark of excitement he hadn’t felt in a long time. Inspired by that feeling, he embarked on a journey to become a professional skydiver, finding a new passion and purpose…

[theoldsports]

Mirror

Coriolanus Snow x Reader. 6.1k words.

18+ some smut, but it’s dicey. dubcon, biting, fingering, nudity, nonconsensual touch, drugs/alcohol? rehab discussion briefly, threats of violence, the shower, struggle against media, one reference to a line from scripture, possessiveness, manipulation. it’s dark. prolonged exposure to it is bad for you.

longest one yet! chronologically follows Married 1+2 in the TRUCULENT series fairly rapidly. i really learned to love this one. upon editing, this story became way more about gaslighting and headfucking someone good and hard into relying on you. special thank you to @heavqn for beta-ing and ridiculous amounts of support and ideas. a lot of our pre-editing convos made this make much more sense to me. + votes are in: next installment/current WIP will be the wedding.

CLICK FOR MORE! CAN BE READ AS SERIES OR STANDALONE

The hand against her shoulder shook her for a moment, then much faster. The shaking lasted seconds or even minutes before [Y/N] pried her eyes open. Everything in the bedroom looked too real, too clear. Coriolanus stood above her. His hand had been doing the shaking. He looked like he had just returned from a run due to his clothes and sweat-stained hair. His hair had grown back more beautifully than before. [Y/N] remembered seeing him when she saw him in the stacks of Philosophy books at the library right after he had returned from Twelve. It was jarring. She had always fancied him a pretty boy even if she loathed him throughout their childhood. He was much different upon his return.

Coriolanus pulled himself up out of the comfort of their bed almost every morning, far too early, to go for a run. [Y/N] didn’t know how she would endure a lifetime of his too chipper morning behavior once they were married. Coming down after a night on morphling was hard and still, she did it over and over again. Coriolanus knew he couldn’t stand in the way of a little fun, but he wouldn’t allow it in their home, so [Y/N] had become involved in using it socially when it was available to her.

“Great. You look like a bum.” Coriolanus said, noting the dark and sunken crescents under her eyes.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning. You look like a bum.”

“I’m not a bum.” [Y/N] replied tiredly. She rubbed her eyes.

Last night, [Y/N] had gone out dancing with some of her friends. It was not a bachelorette party in so many words, but it filled the same purpose. It was also a stretch to call the people she went out with friends in so many words, but they filled the same purpose. [Y/N] hadn’t felt that she had people other than Coriolanus for sometime now. She had gotten very drunk and very high the night before, resulting in frustration from Coriolanus when she returned home. He always waited up by the front door when she was gone so long. Coriolanus did not like it when she wasn’t home with him. She would make it up to him somehow— she always did.

“Come on, up with you.” Coriolanus commanded. He sat on the edge of the bed and pushed her up to a sitting position. His voice was harsh, but his touch was soft. [Y/N] adored Coriolanus’ careful, yet guiding touches. Unless his dick was in her, he only touched her with care like she was a porcelain figurine.

“Why all the rush?” [Y/N] yawned.

“You don’t remember?” Coriolanus sighed. He was upset in that pompous way of his. He rubbed his creased forehead. “Seriously, [Y/N]. I ask so little of you and you can’t even behave well enough to remember that we have an interview in…” he checked his watch. “Three hours.” Coriolanus said. It was false that he asked so little of [Y/N]. Sometimes, he asked too much.

An hour exclusive on Lucky Flickerman’s daytime chatter joint. Shit. That woke [Y/N] up. “That’s today!” She exclaimed. That was the only caffeine she needed to wake her up. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Coryo. I didn’t think—“

“No. No Coryo. No, you didn’t think,” Coriolanus said. He needn’t elaborate. “Shower. We’ve got to beat downtown traffic.”

[Y/N] swore Coriolanus scheduled things like this at the worst possible times just to make her look worse than him.

She pushed her shaky legs off the bed. As soon as she stood, [Y/N] felt like she was going to fall. Perceptively, Coriolanus stood and placed his ever-vigilant hand on her lower back to steady her. “You’re a mess.” He said flatly. [Y/N] could tell that Coriolanus felt damp from his run. It crossed her mind that Coriolanus drank bitter coffee, did his work on time, smoked very little and went on a run daily. [Y/N] regularly got too high to see straight and cried when she didn’t get her way. Some pair they were.

“‘M not.” she protested messily. She didn’t want to admit that Coriolanus was right.

Coriolanus huffed indignantly, but did not reply otherwise. He walked her to the bathroom like marching a child to the naughty step. [Y/N] was set down on the low counter-top. “I’m concerned you’re going to slip and give yourself a black-eye,” Coriolanus said. “I don’t want people to think I hurt you.” He pulled his track jacket off and dropped it on the floor and reached over to take her short magenta teddy off. She felt desperately bare in front of Coriolanus as she was striped mechanically like a child’s doll. The teddy she wore was one of her favorites, with the delicate lace on the bust. She appreciated that Coriolanus was equally as delicate as the lace when handling it. He must have remembered how much [Y/N] liked it. Coriolanus remembered everything.

[Y/N] was simply impressed she had gotten herself into pajamas after last night at all.

“You’re going to ruin yourself if you keep doing this, you know.” Coriolanus said, starting the shower water.

“So you keep telling me,” [Y/N] shivered due to her bareness against the bathroom tile. “I’m sorry.”

Coriolanus deflected with a shake of his head. He turned to her. Coriolanus was obviously thinking about speaking as the water heated up. Hot water whenever desired was Coriolanus’ number one favorite thing about rebuilding the Snow fortune. That’s why he took his showers too hot; to prove that he could. The thought gave him the confidence to speak. “Do I make you feel so ill that you have to run around and treat yourself like this? Did I do something?” The insecurity of that question made [Y/N] raise an eyebrow. Sometimes when she looked at Coriolanus and realized he was still a boy in many regards. Twenty-three wasn’t very old at all. His frontal lobe wasn’t even finished developing. His primary desire was to be enough for himself, for her, and for everyone else too. [Y/N] feared that he worried he hadn’t figured that out yet. The girl was far from figuring that out herself as well. She rarely saw vulnerability slip through the cracks in the finished marble exterior that built Coriolanus Snow. But who knew if what he said was a true feeling of his or not.

“No,” [Y/N] said. She looked down at her manicured toes. “I did this before we were, y’know… You’ve seen me at house parties since the Academy. You know it’s not you.”

“It has to stop,” Coriolanus started, dashing that fear from his mind. [Y/N] permitting a discussion without blocking him out unpowered him to share his concerns. “It worries me when you’re out late with who knows who. With so many people seeing you. It’s not just part of an act, it’s bad for you.” He said, but what he meant to say was it’s bad for me.

“I knew you had jealousy problems, Coriolanus, but being worried you can’t personally compete with your girl’s partying habits is… hilarious.” [Y/N] attempted a joke. She saw the vein in Coriolanus’ neck throb. His eyes got cold when his vulnerability, no matter how shallow, was met with rejection.

“Get in the shower.”

[Y/N] cast her eyes down, took off her panties and did what she was told.

“It’s so hot!” She all but screamed.

[Y/N] let the water scald her skin. She didn’t want to complain at his trying to help her. “You’ll deal with it,” Coriolanus said, sliding the shower door shut behind the both of them. [Y/N] hadn’t even noticed him undressing, but here they were. They had never been in the shower together before. It wasn’t unpleasant, but the circumstances were. “For the record, I don’t have a ‘jealousy problem.’” He said after a moment of allowing [Y/N] hair to get damp enough to shampoo.

“Really?” [Y/N] bit back, reaching clumsily for her shampoo bottle with slippery fingers.

“Really. Jealousy isn’t a problem when you understand what’s rightfully yours,” Coriolanus said. Normally, she blocked Coriolanus out when he spoke like that. Maybe it was physical proximity or toxic prolonged exposure to Coriolanus, but that made her blush red in the face. Ignoring it, [Y/N]’s fingers closed around her pink and brown shampoo bottle, but Coriolanus snatched it out of her fingers effortlessly. “Let me. I want to be sure it gets done,” He muttered with a passive aggressive edge. That attitude seemed like a put-on to [Y/N]. She wondered if he wanted an excuse to be close to her. She made those up sometimes to be close to him. Maybe she was just flattering herself. Coriolanus squeezed some shampoo into his palm and set the bottle down on the shower ledge. “Who were you out with anyway?”

“Um… Some of the girls. Lysistrata. Oh, Clem. Some others.” [Y/N] braced a hand against the damp wall to steady her feet on the slippery ground.

“Clemensia?” Coriolanus asked, sliding his fingers into her hair, careful as ever. It felt newly intimate in a way that Coriolanus typically avoided with her.

“Who else?”

“I see. You know she’s—“

“I know you don’t like her.” [Y/N] said. Coriolanus was silent.

“I don’t like when you go out without me. I just worry.” He finally said.

“I’m sure you do.”

It was silent between them. Coriolanus worked the shampoo into her hair easily. A man known for his rough intensity being gentle with anything was a surprise to her.

“Did you see anyone else?” He asked nonchalantly.

[Y/N] sighed. Even casual conversation turned to interrogation. She wasn’t sure if he meant it, or if it was all he knew how to do. “Do you mean… Was I photographed behaving in some unsightly way? I dunno. I probably was. I wasn’t unfaithful, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Stop.” Coriolanus said, leaving no room for further argument.

It was quiet again. “Thank you for washing my hair. That’s, uh, it’s very kind.”

“Don’t mention it.” He replied, coaxing [Y/N] back under the water to rinse out the suds. His long fingers combed back through her hair over and over again. [Y/N], soapy, turned around and stared at Coriolanus’ wet face and hair. Even when appearing like a drowned animal, his imposing figure was statuesque.

[Y/N] leaned up and kissed him quickly. “I’m sorry I forgot about the interview,” she whispered, barely louder than the shower water. She apologized more than he did, but he responded well to knowing someone other than him was in the wrong. “Do I really look like shit?”

Coriolanus sighed, more familiarly this time. He loved when she needed him. He would insult her all day long if it meant he got to give her more validation later on. “No,” he slipped a hand under her breast and gave it a squeeze, his thumb danced across her nipple. “No, you don’t,” His other hand wormed its way across her cheek to brush away that disgusting makeup residue from the night prior. “You just needed a little polish. Let’s finish up. Go get dressed. Coffee’s on in the kitchen.”

“You poison it?”

Coriolanus frowned exasperatedly. He reached the hand cupping her breast around to her ass and gave it a hard, wet smack. “You bitch.” He smirked.

Sins almost all forgiven.

—

Every time [Y/N] was in a car with Coriolanus, it felt like a coaching session. Hand on her thigh with, don’t say this, say that instead, let me speak first, don’t embarrass me.

No point in elaborating on the most familiar part of their normal day-to-day since it really was habit at this point. [Y/N] always ached to snap back at him after these times. One day, don’t embarrass me was going to hit so hard that she did.

When they got out of the car a few blocks from their destination, [Y/N] had dawned her bright purple sunglasses. Coriolanus hated them and had tried on multiple occasions to buy her new ones to no avail. The daylight was still too bright for her tired eyes, so they were going to be worn on the walk to Capitol News.

After half a block (and so close to a news building), they were swamped by people clicking away at them. It made the bright sun burn hotter. Coriolanus’ white blonde hair and intimidating stature was much too easy to pick out in a crowd for their sunglasses and long jackets to disguise much.

Right now, besides Games news, they were the hottest topic of discussion in the Capitol. Their engagement party had been wild, [Y/N] was typically wild, and Coriolanus was characteristically unwild. It made for good TV.

Coriolanus leaned in to whisper something. [Y/N] couldn’t hear it. All she could do was smile and tell any reporters with microphones ‘no thank you,’ or ‘you’ll have to watch Lucky’s to answer for that.’ Coriolanus merely smiled a smile that was not his smile and said ‘not now folks, we’ll be late,’ or ‘don’t worry about them, Darling.’

[Y/N] was leashed by Coriolanus’ hand on the back of her neck as he guided her through crowds. He had two dressbags of clothes for the show tossed effortlessly over his shoulder as they walked. They were a newsroom’s wetdream. She was exuberant and he was magnetic. And they were both trouble. Power, wealth, youth, stability and status. Everyone liked to watch them at their best and loved to watch them at their worst.

“How do you put up with it, Mr. Snow!” A bland-looking man with a microphone called.

“How was the party last night, [Y/N]!” Called another. They always called [Y/N] by her first name because, frankly, she was fairly certain they didn’t know her maiden name and technically she wasn’t Mrs. Snow yet either. Coriolanus’ grip on her tightened at the question.

She smirked at how the power of her own name took away power from her family and their name; the thing they desperately wanted a morsel of.

Considering a future where she inevitably became Mrs. Snow, she thought about how her lifetime of indiscretions would be tied to Coriolanus forever. She smirked wider at their folie a deux.

[Y/N] felt like a doll again, being pushed by Coriolanus like that. She didn’t hate it entirely, though. She liked it when he manhandled her a little. It helped with all the noise that surrounded them these days to be able to turn her brain off and let Coriolanus handle it for her. She would never admit it, but being a good doll for Coriolanus for the foreseeable future didn’t seem too bad. Her stomach churned wicked for thinking that. It made her antsy to not have an exciting retort in front of reporters. [Y/N] usually did, but her head ached too much this morning. Instead, she looked helplessly up at Coriolanus. He glanced down at her, an eyebrow raised. “Overwhelmed?” He asked quietly, but not too quietly. [Y/N] nodded. “Don’t worry, my dear. We’re almost there.” Coriolanus said like a good husband should. [Y/N] thought about how he was rarely such a good husband when other people weren’t looking. Then why had he seemed to care so much that morning? She must’ve been mistaken about one part or the other.

[Y/N] leaned up and kissed him for in part for his kindness. The crowd aww’d. Kisses were a good way to distract a man. Any man, receiving or watching. Coriolanus’ hand slipped down from her neck to the back of her waist. Her fingers went into the soft hair at the bottom of his neck. She felt him inhale sharply. She knew he hated that. “What was that for?” Coriolanus asked when he pulled away, referring to the kiss.

“Wanted to make sure you were real. None of this feels real.” [Y/N] laughed dizzily. It was true, but she felt stupid saying it. She had spent a lot of time feeling stupid recently and this morning was no exception. The hangover and the whirlwind of voices and flashes had emptied her brain completely. Coriolanus leaned in to whisper in her ear again. This time she caught what he said:

“Stop this. We’ve ten steps until we’re in the building. I’ve told you not to touch my hair.”

He pulled away from her and put on his brilliant, effortless smirk that rich boys his age always had. Coriolanus yanked [Y/N] the remaining distance into the news building.

As soon as they entered, they were whisked away to dress for that afternoon’s broadcast. [Y/N] was dropped into a beautician’s chair to make her face look like someone else’s. She groaned at the duty she held.

Makeup brushes and blowdryers and curling irons and spray bottles of who knows what clouded [Y/N] of vision.

She wished Coriolanus was in her immediate vicinity so she could glance over him and laugh cruelly about how stupid all this is. He was always good for a laugh at the expense of things like this.

“Honey, who does your hair on the regular? I suggest you switch to someone else.” The obscene-looking woman pulling her hair back asked.

[Y/N] laughed, but said nothing. [Y/N] wanted to strangle her.

Not long after that, [Y/N] was pulled up to her feet and forced into a dress that she at least knew she liked. Tight around the waist and thighs, capping off at the knees. It was higher necked, but was so tight that it left little to the imagination. She knew Coriolanus would get frustrated with a fluffy dress, so she picked one that would make his eyes bug out instead. It was off-white with a delicate floral pattern outlined in a brighter white.

[Y/N] looked great. She knew this as she admired the contrasting bulk of the shoulders and flowing sleeves with the clinging exposure of her curves everywhere else. She didn’t exactly look like herself, though. Especially with her hair and makeup done so precisely. She wasn’t precise, she was messy. Precise didn’t suit her.

[Y/N] wondered if the her that stared back in the full-body mirror was the real her now. Messy her was gone. A Capitol wife remained. A doll.

She slid her black ankle-breaking heels on and shook the thought away as she entered the sound stage.

[Y/N] always forgot how noble Coriolanus was capable of looking, considering he was distinctly the opposite. She stared at him. Mauve coat, black trousers, crisp white undershirt, white tie, white rose. Clearly, he had let someone touch his hair. Even if it was a stylist.

Coriolanus gestured for her to walk over to where he stood and Lucky sat. It was difficult to walk with the dress clinging around her knees and the height of her heels. Her short, intentional steps felt demeaning. Most things in her life felt vaguely demeaning, but she kept turning a purposeful blind eye. The stage lights were too bright. Coriolanus’ teeth were too white for the amount of throats he’d ripped out.

Capitol magic.

“Hello Darling. You look lovely.” Coriolanus said as she approached. He took his hand in her and kissed it. Coriolanus’ eyes never looked up at hers because they were too busy looking at how her body fit the dress.

“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself,” she replied neutrally. “Hi Lucky. Green’s really your color.” [Y/N] lied. Lucky’s green, wintery tux was vile and everyone with eyes and a modicum of taste would see that.

Coriolanus coughed into his shoulder to cover a scoff. He wrapped a strong arm around [Y/N]’s waist.

“Thank you, [Y/N]! Good to see you, pleasantries, pleasantries, yada yada. Shall I call you [Y/N]…? Mrs. Snow… The network doesn’t really know what the hell to do with you.” Lucky beamed from his chair.

“Oh, uh… I’m not really Mrs. Snow yet. It’s not necessary. My first name will do. I’m not picky, though.”

She felt Coriolanus deflate a little beside her as he dropped her waist and folded himself into the gaudy patterned armchair the network provided. [Y/N] felt a sting of guilt. Maybe she should have let him carry on with the Mrs. Snow thing. Coriolanus would have to get over it. “Sure thing, hon. Anyway, go ahead. Take your seat. Some of these questions are tacky, tacky, tacky, but do your best and humor us. Panem wants to know the real you.” Lucky beamed.

“I’m sure they do.” They don’t. And they won’t.

“You kids really are… Wow, lovely to share the stage with. You make me look old and sad comparatively, damn,” Lucky joked. “It’s been a good while since I’ve had the pleasure of sitting alongside Coriolanus like this. You were a child then. Crazy, the passage of time.” He continued.

“Lucky, it’s always an honor.” Coriolanus said. Coriolanus hated Lucky. [Y/N] marveled at his ability to lie so gracefully.

A group of production folks stepped out of the shadows to give them bottled water and let them know the show was about to begin. The studio audience poured in through side doors.

[Y/N] quickly leaned over to Coriolanus. “I thought this was a pre-tape.” She whispered frantically.

“You didn’t remember this interview existed three hours ago. You’ll deal with it.” He replied, with a note of his own panic he was unable to squash.

Fifteen minutes of seating and then a live camera inches away from [Y/N]’s face. “Well, we really thank you for having us on your show, Lucky.” She smiled. The audience analyzed them like vultures. This was the most wicked game designed for them, but Coriolanus didn’t lose. [Y/N] would have to be perfect.

“Of course! Always a pleasure, [Y/N]. Let’s get to some of these questions on my handy little list of questions, huh?” A few shallow questions about what designers they were wearing, what their morning routine was like to look so gorgeous, Coriolanus leaning over to hold [Y/N]’s hand across their chairs (the audience sighed lovingly). Coriolanus curls, stubborn as he was, fell out of the hold of the hairspray like they always did. She smirked and reached up with her left hand to push them out of his eyes. Oh, he hated that. [Y/N] could tell. Lovely.

“Oh, look at that ring,” Lucky said. “The ring we’ve all been talking about. Let’s get a closeup on that rock,” the camera pushed in to [Y/N]’s hand obediently. A large ruby mounted on a white gold band. She had been assured it was real. [Y/N]’s other jewelry, silver, sat patina-ing in a wooden box because of it.“Beautiful. Must’ve cost you a pretty penny, Coriolanus.”

“Yes, Coryo, how much did it cost?” [Y/N] asked. Coriolanus shifted in his seat. Money was not a thing Coriolanus discussed.

“A bit.” He replied stiffly. [Y/N] grinned.

“Uh, you both are mighty famous for that ring. I suppose it’s time to discuss that crazy engagement party. I was there to witness the whole thing firsthand, of course.”

The Snows-to-be nodded.

“These questions can get uncomfortable, but I’m sure you’ll answer all the same. So, your relationship seems… Alarmingly happy today for two people debating splitting over infidelity at the celebration of their engagement.”

“Please, we only debate it when I’m drunk, Lucky.” [Y/N] said much to the audiences joy. They laughed heartily.

“Which is too often, if you want my opinion.” Another laugh from the audience for Coriolanus, never one for being outdone. She knew, in his mind, she deserved that.

“Rehabilitation is always an opinion.” Lucky joked darkly, not knowing what to say.

“Being wild is fun, though, isn’t it? I’m not from privilege and grace as much as my fiancé. He’s always been elegant. I’m learning; I have a good teacher. But you only get your youth once. You would know, I’m sure, Lucky. When someone loves you as much as Coriolanus loves me… He always forgives my mistakes. He’s too good me. He’s patient.” [Y/N] said. He was patient, but it came out in the way that he played the long game. His impulses along the way were markedly less patient. Coriolanus squeezed her hand tightly as a warning.

Lucky smiled bitterly. “Well, I’m sure he’ll learn to keep you on a shorter leash eventually. Actually, I hear you were out last night as well.”

Fuck.

“Yes, bachelorette party, you see.”

“The studio’s telling me,” Lucky clutched his earpiece. “They have some photos from your last wild night as an unwed woman.”

“Oh. Is that so…? Haha,” [Y/N] said. Coriolanus squeeze her hand until her own knuckles were white. Neither one of them had a clue what they were about to throw up on that screen. Coriolanus inhaled shakily, but maintained neutrality. “Can’t be worse than the sides you saw of us a few months back at the—“

It was worse.

The dress was short, but Coriolanus had known that when she stopped into his office to tell him she was going out. He had responded with a “That? Really? Okay…” with quiet anger that the dress wasn’t being worn for him.

Then there was the dreaded miniature morphling vile empty between her fingers. It was obvious she was trying to talk with her friends under the flashing lights. They were all wearing similar fare. Six or seven drunk, high young women pictured together wasn’t that bad, even for some of the old school Capitol prudes.

None was more damning than the strange man’s hand planted firmly on [Y/N]’s ass. His smile was too wide. The [Y/N]’s in the picture’s grimace at the stranger over her shoulder was uncomfortable. It screamed DON’T-TOUCH-ME. She looked like she was telling him to stop, but her eyes were wide and her lips were pulled into a frown. The subtext implied by the woman in the photo was Coriolanus is going to kill me. She sighed. The crowd gasped. Coriolanus inhaled sharply.

[Y/N] had said her behavior the night before was inherently not unfaithful. Coriolanus didn’t feel the need to not believe her since she was the one who brought it up. The apples of Coriolanus cheeks grew red with rage. The stranger’s smile was too big. He knew he was touching Coriolanus Snow’s fiancée. He knew was taking advantage of a helpless girl and her friends. He knew he was defacing someone else’s property.

Coriolanus Snow was going to find this man and ruin his life.

[Y/N], humiliated, looked over at Coriolanus. She had a hazy memory of telling some guy to “knock it off” the night before. Truly, she did remember this, but of course, she hadn’t thought this would be a big deal. This was a part of her life she had had to deal with since she was a young woman. This man’s action was undesired, but not unexpected. Taking in the photo and the look on his fiancée’s face as she shook her head slowly at him was enough for Coriolanus to determine that this touch was unwanted. [Y/N] looked guilty, but she had little reason to be. He hated seeing that look on her face in a situation he didn’t create.

[Y/N]’s only crime was going out without Coriolanus. She knew he hated when she did that. If he had been there, he would’ve handled the situation there and then. She was never going out alone again. She needed him. Right now, he was going to be the man she needed.

“Take that off the screen.” Coriolanus said firmly to Lucky.

“Well, first, let’s have—“ Lucky tried.

“I don’t think you heard me. I said take it down,” Coriolanus continued. He turned to the cameras and those behind them. “Now.”

Coriolanus watched a young woman at a screen immediately buckle at his demand and begin scrambling to pull the image. The show’s graphic was returned to the monitor. “Thank you,” Coriolanus said in the woman’s direction. [Y/N] stared at the floor, beet-red. She was trying not to cry, but what would it matter if she did? Coriolanus knew too well the meaning of her tell-tale sniffle and avoidant eye contact. He turned back to Lucky. “I think that was extremely rude of you and your production group to put up an image, without consent, of my fiancée getting touched without consent. It’s apparent to me from looking at that photo that my fiancée did not welcome that touch. Would you agree?”

“Possibly, but since the engagement party—“

“I think you forget I trust [Y/N]. Are you the one marrying her?”

“… No. But hey, this is my show, kid. Let’s get back on track with—“

Coriolanus knew better than most people that what was said and done on live television was as good as forever. He would use that to his advantage. Nobody came for Coriolanus’ belongings and left with the hand that tried to snatch them.

“I’m not finished,” Coriolanus snapped. [Y/N] reached for Coriolanus’ hand again to signal that that’s enough, dear. He took it and looked over at her. He was angry; normal person righteous angry. Not manic, not cold. That was a new face. Coriolanus had so many pretend faces that clipped on and off. [Y/N] had previously thought she had seen them all. “Were you wanting that touch, Princess? Did you know him?” He asked [Y/N]. She shook her head with her eyes damp and downcast. “As I implied, you don’t know us. Don’t ever embarrass my fiancée like that,” or me, [Y/N] assumed his subtext as he spoke. “Whoever this moron in the picture is has another thing coming. What kind of self-respecting news network aims to humiliate guests for something they couldn’t help?” Coriolanus said. [Y/N]’s heart raced. He cared. Maybe it was for selfish reasons, but his support mattered. No one else was going to do it.

Sometimes he was absent, yes, but Coriolanus always came through when [Y/N] needed him. She was grateful that he wasn’t angry with her, even if that part came later in private. She was grateful for now that his way of easing his own pain eased hers too. She could get used to that. [Y/N] let out tears of temporary relief and reached for the box of tissues on the round table between guests and host.

Coriolanus stared Lucky down and settled himself further back in his seat with a sigh. “Next question?” The blonde man said.

—

The ride home was nearly silent. [Y/N] had started crying the second she sat down in the car. Coriolanus hadn’t say anything, but he kept his hand in hers the whole time. He didn’t even fight to let go when his palm got sweaty. [Y/N] pulled his hand close to her chest. She had done nothing wrong, yet she felt that everything was her fault. She had failed Coriolanus. This media wreck wasn’t just a game for photographers and journalists, this one embarrassed her genuinely. This one embarrassed Coriolanus and she was constantly told she was not supposed to do that. Don’t embarrass me rang against every corner in her brain.

The car stopped in front of their building. Coriolanus, as he always seemed to, opened her car door before the driver could get out. Coriolanus thanked the driver and put an arm around [Y/N] and led her up the stairs to their townhouse. The door closed behind them. Coriolanus locked the deadbolt with a heavy clunk. Safe from eyes that watched every failure with glee. They could be people again.

“I’m sorry, Coriolanus,” [Y/N] said, mascara down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know him. Really, I didn’t. I told you this morning. I—I didn’t know him.” She backed herself protectively towards the couch and away from Coriolanus in learned preemptive panic.

“I know,” Coriolanus said. “Nobody but me gets to touch you like that. I know you’re smart enough to understand that. I cannot fathom how another man thinks he can do that to you and get away with it.”

“That’s… That’s been happening my whole adult life, you can’t magically make that—“

“I don’t think you understand, Darling. I can. I don’t want to know that anyone has ever touched you like that. I swear on my mother’s grave. I will fucking murder them.” His winter blue eyes could vaporize a perpetrator on the spot.

“Coriolanus, that’s extreme.”

“Not to me. Not when you’re involved.”

“You can’t hurt people that looked at me funny. It’s hardly a crime.”

“Isn’t their some old line about not coveting another man’s wife?”

“…Yes. You have a future. You can’t interrupt your opportunities because some shithead—“

“It won’t interrupt anything. Wouldn’t it make you feel better to know that a creep like that was off the streets?”

“…Yes.”

“Well, then we agree. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

[Y/N] blushed and looked down. “I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what else to say.

“Don’t be. I’m not angry with you about this. I know I can trust you. I do. You know I do. I don’t worry about that. I cannot trust other people around you, especially when you use that filthy drug,” Coriolanus said. He extend a hand to [Y/N] as he approached like he would approaching a scared animal. That hand went slowly to [Y/N]’s waist. Coriolanus pulled her in closer so they were chest to chest. “You are not going out without me to some party like that ever again. Disrespecting you like that means disrespecting me, too. I won’t stand for either.”

“I—“

Coriolanus was going to get what he wanted all along: [Y/N] alone with him always. How could she need anyone else? Everyone out there wanted to hurt her, touch her, make her feel bad about herself. Not Coriolanus. Perhaps, he should be thanking that man instead of cutting his fingers off one at a time. “No. Let me keep you safe. That’s all this is. I want you safe. I’m to be your husband. That’s my job. Won’t you let me do my job, [Y/N]?” He said too calmly. His blue eyes stared deep into hers. Coriolanus had a fantastic talent for telling someone something and letting them think it was a question; letting them think it was their idea— letting them they had a choice.

He was right. He did make her feel safe. Holding on to her like this made her melt. In Coriolanus’ arms, [Y/N] felt secure. He was moody, but Coriolanus was frustratingly reliable. He wanted to make himself the bedrock of [Y/N]’s life. She had no choice but to allow him that. [Y/N] breathed out and he felt her breath fan out across his face. “Let me take care of you. I won’t let that happen to you anymore. I promise.” Coriolanus muttered.

He tipped his mouth slowly into her neck and hungrily sucked at the place below her ear. A gasp caught in [Y/N]’s throat at the surprise sensation. Her knees wobbled and her dress and shoes didn’t make it any better. She put her arms around his neck for support. “Coriolanus…” she whispered. Coriolanus loved the vibration in her throat beneath his lips.

Helplessly, [Y/N] tipped her head back to give her fiancé what he wanted. Coriolanus had sucked a few hickeys on her neck and chest before, sure. Never before had he bitten her. This time, he bit her hard enough to bruise and scab. It was harder to cover an indent with makeup than a simple bruise. If she were to go out even to the grocery store, other men had to understand that [Y/N] was off the market. If an engagement ring wouldn’t do it, this would. Coriolanus bit her with such force that the tears started to well again.

The position they were in felt like a dance. His hands on her waist, hers on his neck, their bodies flush together. [Y/N] fell deeper into the black hole of Coriolanus Snow. This must have been on purpose. He knew she loved to dance with him and made it a weapon. Damn him. She would always say yes to a dance, wouldn’t she? Wasn’t this whole relationship just a fucked up dance?

The man reached one hand down and pulled up [Y/N]’s dress as much as he could get it up and tore it the rest of the way. [Y/N] could swear she had been torn out of a third of her clothing recently. Coriolanus pushed her panties to the side and pushed his fingers into her. It would have hurt if she hadn’t been so wet to begin with. She bobbled on her heels. Once Coriolanus has pumped himself fingertip to hand in and out of her a handful of times, [Y/N] was holding herself up entirely by his neck and shoulders and the fingers that impaled her tenderly. Coriolanus had complete control over the situation. The only thing left for her to do was moan and she didn’t hold back.

Coriolanus was unrelenting. He marked a disturbing black and blue column on her throat the way he liked. Slowly, the pair rocked back and forth from foot to foot, as Coriolanus nipped, fucked and sucked. A fucked-up slow dance to the song of the traffic on the other side of the window.

MORE FROM THE TRUCULENT SERIES

TAGLIST:

@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @arminsarlerts @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @taykorsyogurt @ndycrls @watermelonharry @nananarwhal @ohantonia @catlover420sstuff @justaproudslytherpuff @notarabellasstuff @scarytiger111 @zucchinimalfoy @secretsicanthideanymore @h-l-vlovesvintage @dannydevsbbg @clintsupremacy @lookclosernow @10ava01 @or-was-it-just-a-dream @lucielsstuff @fairyydvst @spencereidbasis @a-mellifluous-life @daenerysqueenofhearts @heavqn @dangelnleif @lapisthelovely @wotcherpeak @24kmar

apologies as always for the little tags that couldn’t.

[goldsbitch]

That one missed lecture

part 3 to That one Christmas flight

summary: After a missed moment, both parties are trying to contemplate what to do next.

warnings: crushing hard, cheesy af, swear words I guess, typos probably, slow burn let's just admit that

"A what?"

Surely she must have misheard Teresa. Yes. Lando has been on Y/N's mind so much these past few days that she has officially lost it.

"Sorry, not what. Who?"

"I dunno, apparently this like formula racer or something. I don't really understand it - so like we were at Al Bricco right, as usual. And there was this guy who seemed to be super into that sport and he totally freaked out. Like, the racer guy just went in and immediately left, kind of embarrassing. He like proper asked for a photo and shit. And after the racer guy left, this dude was so high off that he paid for everyone's drinks at the bar. Was nice! Shame you had the thing you had, or whatever."

Yes. Or whatever. Y/N made up some excuse for last evening, so mundane even she forgot what it was.

It was Monday afternoon after the Imola weekend. The philosophy lesson was about to start in few minutes. Y/N cursed Teresa for keeping this one tiny detail about yesterday. For fuck's sake, they'd already had two classes together today! Plenty of opportunity to mention this. Nobody famous ever came to Bologna. Y/N would expect Teresa to make it a bigger deal. But then again, usually it would not be a big deal for neither of you.

"Yeah, shame I didn't order a bottle instead of a glass," Teresa proclaimed.

"Did you see him? The racer guy?"

"Yeah. He looked like a guy, honestly nothing special about him."

"Do you know like his name or the team?"

"No, the fuck would I know that. You're focusing on the wrong thing - you missed a fun night with free drinks."

Y/N felt like her mind just got the DRS.

There were 20 drivers on the grid - the chances were low. Y/N overcame her initial shock and tried to focus on the lecture that was about to start.

For some reason Hegel's Lord-bondsman dialectic was not able to win in the battle for Y/N's attention today. Since Teresa was of little help, Y/N turned to social media. Surely, this fan must have shared his photo online. And then, once she finally discovers the photo of Ocon or Tsunoda, she will be abel to return back to her actual real problems instead of her schoolgirl crush.

They say if you need to find the "corpus delicti" these days, ask a woman to scan social media. Source more powerful than FBI.

Y/N had to excuse herself after staring at a photo of Lando's fake smile while standing in her favorite bar. Pacing around was required right now. After all, show us a problem that can't be fixed by maniacally walking around the block seven hundred times.

In her favorite bar. Lando was in her bar. In a bar, where she would have been, hadn't it been for her actually trying to track down Lando. Out of all the places on this gigantic planet. In. Her. Favorite. Bar. Must have been some random game of destiny. Y/N was getting real mad at destiny. She cursed the stupid Christmas tradition, she cursed ever getting herself involved with formula 1.

She cursed herself for missing him. In both meanings of the word.

//

Lando forgot when exactly had his burner account turned completely Bologna centered. But it was impossible to escape that city. So he decided to leave that account be for a while.

His fitness trainer must have been happy with him. Lando burned his the tension and confused mix of feelings in his session like his life depended on it. He went on to stream in his free time to check in on his friends, who seemed a bit confused on where his head had been lately. In the course of few days, life got back on track. Y/N slowly leaving his mind and he parting with it peacefully. Yet every was covered under a gray cloud of nothingness.

It was a simulator day for him. He was supposed be testing new configurations. Lando was never really good at simulators, it completely lacked the realness of it, so he had to push himself to stay professional and be a proper teammate.

"I'm just not sure about this breaking set up," he commented quietly, perhaps even more to himself than others after missing another turn. His engineer however picked up on it and started to get into super detailed explanation on why they wanted him to use this configuration and did not fail to mention how great it job it did for Oscar this morning. Lando simply nodded and did not bother to engage in eye contact. He was in no mood for this debate and kept staring at the screen. Just let it all flow by him. This engineer had been on the team for quite some time, so he did not hesitate to try and cheer him up.

"Come on, man. You can't just sit there. The car won't start if you don't go for it, you know?" he said as a joke. When Lando did not respond, he began to second guess his judgement. "Or we could just take a break, what ever suits you."

Lando took a deep breath. "No, you're right. I can't just sit here and do nothing." He turned to his engineer with a different more energetic look. "When I crash, we just start again next time, am I right?"

"That's my boy!"

//

Y/N woke up the next morning to suspiciously large amount of notifications on her Instagram account. Someone liked every single one of her pictures and few of those where she was tagged and commented on one of her selfies "nice". Curious to what this was about, she went and checked the profile out. The only thing present on it was a black and white photo with some random numbers and letters. Ok, so nothing. Just some random weirdo or a drunken joke of one the uni friends. Because for a single moment she allowed her intrusive thoughts in - and expected Lando's account to be the one liking it.

Contemplating breaking the rule and reaching out to him was the only thing occupying her yesterday's evening. But what good would that do, his account probably being run by some PR people who would dismiss it as just another fangirl trying her chances. She thought a photo might be more helpful, but it was just the same thing all over again. No, she missed her chance and it was time to start moving on.

Her usual morning brain fog breaking espresso at a coffee bar in the centre did it's job well. A lot of paragraphs she was due to write were waiting on her. Only one lecture in the afternoon. A nice calm day to spend in one of the libraries. She loved Bologna. Great food and ever-present history has cured many crushes through out the ages.

"also nice" -another notification from the same account. Y/N contemplated blocking it, but it just seemed rude, so she just silenced her phone.

When took her phone out to listen to some music on the way to her lecture, she had three more comment.

"very nice" -appeared under a photo from one of her dinner parties with the local students.

"why no smile?" -it was a selfie, so what?

"thought you were the smart one, but starting to doubt that" - written under a random photo of Bologna's stunning libraries. So what, she enjoyed aesthetics too.

The one comment questioning her brain capacity stuck in head whole the way to her lecture. What the fuck was that about. Why was anyone spending their time so uselessly. The only thing on that profile was picture with some JL043 mash of letters. She had more important things to do.

A loud ding of her comments notification interrupted the lecture in the middle of it. She gave an apologetic look to her already grumpy professor.

"check my followers"

She sighed. That's it, she'll have a look and then block this asshole out.

Her heart sank when she saw that the only account this one was following was the Japan Airlines. JL043. The Christmas flight.

Y/N has already left one lecture because of Lando this week, so she was not about to it for the second time. But she might have as well done that, seeing she would not have been able to repeat a single point from this lecture.

//

Lando was not a patient man. Especially not after he has decided on something. And he decided on contacting Y/N. With the newfound fire in his veins, another burner account was created - can't let her see he was following every single one of her friends, bit weird. Well, once you've started you might as well finish it. Lando was happy that he did not posses any serial killer tendencies.

He was also a cheeky boy, not about to make it easy for anyone. Had to be fun.

So he liked all her pictures and put few comments. When she did not respond immediately in the morning, he continued. And again, and again. In the later afternoon, Y/N's account followed his and smile on Lando's face followed after that.

A message appeared shortly after.

"Hey you..."

part 4

_________________________________________

Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1  @superlegend216

[kakiastro]

Mc Persona Chart + Public Image

Persona chart- its a birth chart within a birth chart. Every single planet & asteroid has their own separate story. It gives you a better detail of how a certain plays out for you.

*Your bedroom is the placement but what’s in your bedroom and your aesthetic is your persona chart.

MC- rules over many things such as your career, authority figures such as your boss, but today we’re discussing how your persona chart can give you further details into this

Chart breakdown

Ascendant/1h

-this is the first thing people notice about you, it’s the first impression people make of you when they see you.

Ex. Aquarius Rising. May be seen as different, innovative and extroverted or introverted (depends)

Sun/5h

-how your personality is seen, what people think of your personality. Sun rules over how we shine in the world. This is how we show ourselves to the public.

Ex. Sun Aries 3h. Have a bold and fiery personality. Your words and how you say them get you noticed.

Moon/4h

-this is how people emotionally connect with you. Depending on sign, this is where you may or may not open up to people. This is also the area where you will keep certain things private about your self.

Ex. Pisces moon 8h. People may feel deeply spiritually connected to you emotionally. They may put you on a pedestal and project whatever they want to see

Mercury 3h/6h

- the nosey area of our charts😅 the area where people want to get to know you and communicate with you, this is how you communicate with people, this is also how people view your communication skills.

Ex. Natal Mercury Gemini 1h, you may be seen as a chatty Kathy and witty😅 but if we look at your Mc Persona chart and you have Mercury Aries 10h, we can see that you’re also very blunt and straight to the point type of person.

Mars 1h/8h

-what your actively known to be be doing by the public. This can show what and how your passions and motivations can be seen in public.

Ex. Mars Libra 4h can indicate someone being involved in womens rights.

Venus 2h/7h

-how we are loved and what people love us for. This is also how we display love publicly. If you’re well known or famous, this can show the type of partners you’re known to have

Ex. Venus Sagittarius 5h. People love your ideals/ philosophies and how you express them, you may be known to date foreigners or people that’s not from your culture. May date lots of entertainers

Jupiter 9h/12h

-how you are seen world wide. You don’t have to be famous for this. If you travel to Italy, Italians are going to have a different view of you then the people from Ghana. (Astrocartography plays a role in this) but that’s a different post for another day😅. Your religious beliefs, life philosophies, your blessings, are all shown here.

Ex: Jupiter Capricorn 7h, may be known to have traditional views on marriage, work with older people

Saturn 10h/11h

-the obstacles you face publicly. This is where you will face pushback. This can also indicate how you will be seen as you get older.

Ex. Saturn Aries 10h. Face career obstacles in early life. As you get older, you may get recognition and respect as being the first of something

Uranus 11h

- this is where unpredictable things happen to you publicly, one minute you’re loved and next you see you’re trending on twitter…err X or whatever it’s called now for some scandal�� the complete opposite can happen, you made a tic toc not thinking much of it and boom! Next think you know, you wake to 10mil views and you’re famous. Uranus shakes shit up for better or worse.

Neptune 12h

- this is where you may be idolized, have people project all sorts of crazy things on you especially if it’s in one of your angular houses (1, 4, 7, 10) if you’re a creative then your abilities will be shown here. Spiritual gifts, healers are seen here as well.

Ex: Neptune Aquarius 8h. Some type of healer for a large group of people. Can be known for being into the occult practices such as astrology or tarot ect

Pluto 8h

-how our public image can change us for good or bad, it’s probably where we’re the most private about. If you have a following and prominent Pluto or Scorpio in your Mc chart then this can indicate having crazy obsessed fans.

Ex. Pluto Scorpio 1h. People are crazy about you but this can attract lots of haters so be careful.

I hope you all love this post and don’t forget to check out my other post on my pinned post.

I’m also available for readings, information on that is also on my pinned post. Holla at me!!

[ghostly-wisp]

MR. LOVERMAN, CHAPTER 1

[series masterlist] [chapter 2] [chapter 3]

in which, the newly divorced teacher across the hall from you is more charming than you expected.

“Hey, have you introduced yourself to the new guy?” Asks your co-worker, and best friend, Sam. The two of you sharing lunch in solidarity of your classroom. Most of the time, the lunch wave was spent between the two of you talking about crazy things students said or airing out problems either of you had with other co-workers. Today, it seemed like it was going to be about the new science teacher that everyone and their mom was obsessed with. 

Mr. Pascal transferred to your school just this year, replacing the old science teacher that retired the previous year. From what you understood from students, along with some teacher, he was an absolute heart throb. You were lucky enough to have your classroom across from his, so you’ve seen him a few times — but you never got a chance to actually speak to him yet. “No,” you reply. “I’ve been meaning to, though. Is he nice?” 

Sam nods, taking a bite of their salad while leaning back in the uncomfortable spinny-chair. “I thought so. We talked briefly, I asked him how long hes been teaching and why he moved here n’ such.” they hum, “I think I made him uncomfortable.”

“How would you have done that?” Sam for the most part, in front of other adults – lacks a certain filter, though you would still have expected longer before Sam would say something to make the new guy uncomfortable. “When I asked about why he moved here, he told me it was his recent divorce.. I think she cheated on him or something, he wasn’t excited to talk about it.” 

“Most people wouldn’t be,”

“Hey! In my defense, I thought he was just going to say the pay was higher or something! Not my wife left me!” after a moment of silence, Sam continues. “How haven’t you introduced yourself yet? He’s right across the hall from you.” To which you shrug, “I just haven’t had the time yet. Things are so busy, the year just started.” 

For the rest of the day, Sam’s words stick with you. Hes right across the hall, and you haven’t had the decency to even say hello to him. Though, you wonder if he was really bothered by it, maybe he would introduce himself to you by now.

The last five minutes before the bell rings is normally an unproductive time, students are packed up and standing by the door, so you never actually continue “bell-to-bell” teaching philosophy, it just doesn’t work out, and if you’re being fair, you’re far too tired at the end of the day too. “Miss,” one of your students says, breaking out of your concentration to the computer screen, you turn to see what the student might want, to your surprise, they only point to the teacher in your doorframe, Mr. Pascal. 

“Sorry to bother you,” He says, his voice is deeper than you imagined it to be. Catching you by surprise just a little bit, “I need to print some things, and I can’t quite get the grasp on how to work the one down the hall. Can you help me out?” 

The printer was a tricky thing, theres a card swipe, password, authorization and then how many you want printed. To anyone who doesn’t quite know how to work it – you had a difficult time when you first started. 

“Yeah, its a major pain in the–” you cut yourself off, realizing that you’re still in the presence of teenagers, and while “ass” is not really a “bad word” and they most definitely say worse things, you still have to watch your mouth. You stand and make your way out of the classroom, making sure you had your lanyard. “Have you sent the papers to the printer?” you ask, to which he nods. “It’s just not showing on the little screen thing.” 

The printer isn’t that far of a walk, but it feels like it was one hundred miles. Especially since the silence between you two. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” you say after the tension proved to be too much for you, “I’ve heard a lot about you.” The printer seems like its getting further away rather than closer. Though he chuckles at your comment, “Good things, I hope.” 

“You can say that.” 

Another chuckle, followed by “My name is Pedro, it’s very nice to meet you, officially.” 

You smile softly to him, as you get to the printer, finally. 

“Okay– swipe your card here, and then put in the code they gave you–the one on the back of your ID card.” He does as you say, and much to his relief, he finally saw the access granted. “The printers here are tricky, take a while to learn.” you laugh, watching him put in the number he needed, and listened to the printer whirl as it started to work. 

“At my old school, they just let us have printers in our room—I was very upset to learn that thats not allowed here. Unless you’re an art teacher.” 

“They don’t allow a lot of things, some teachers do it anyway. I keep a mini fridge hidden under my desk.” you laugh, “Sometimes, we’re no better than the students.” 

He hums, “I guess so. Though, it would be very hard for me to hide a printer under my desk.” to this, you nod. “I guess it would be.”

Hes a lot more attractive up close than when you’re standing across the hall from him, the grays in his beard compliment him nicely, which isn’t something that happens for most people very often. You also like his sense of style, the black button up paired with the dark blue tie, the dark dress pants with the slim belt he wore—you can’t deny that men who know how to dress themselves seem to be more attractive than most. You can see what everyone was saying, he was a heart throb. You can’t help but wonder, what kind of person would cheat on that. “Thank you so much,” he says, turning over to you. Its only now that you notice his tie is decorated with little planets and constellations. How appropriate for a science teacher. 

“Its no problem, let me know if you have any other problems, always happy to help.” 

“I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”

“So,” Sam says, their voice is sing-songy, like they’re trying to hide something they’re clearly excited about. “I heard that you and Mr. Pascal have been spending a lot of time together between classes, you’re not trying to replace me, are you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you laugh, grabbing a water from your mini fridge. “He’s new, he’s just needed help with a few things and I’m right across the hall.”

“Thats not what Jenny said!” Their tone is still playful, though they’re pointing their finger to you, accusatory. “Jenny doesn’t know me,” you respond. “She said we were dating when I first started here!” 

“Fair point.” Sam shifts in their chair, “So you haven’t been hanging out with him?”

“Well, not between classes, but I occasionally go into his classroom to help him with websites and such.” your smile is tight, you didn’t realize just how often you two had been sharing time in his classroom the past few weeks. “He’s really sweet, you know. I get why the students like him.”

“They like him because hes good looking.” Sam replies, you raise your hands, “I said what I said.”

Sam lets out a laugh, “So you’ve fallen into the ongoing list of people captivated by this man?” they ask, as if they weren’t pretty high on the list themselves. “Not that I’m one to talk.”

You shrug, “I dunno if I’d say I’m captivated. But I can admit hes very good looking,” if anyone was a winner of the genetic lottery – it was Florence Pugh and Mr. Pascal. “This is highly inappropriate talk for work,”  

Pedro was newly divorced, surely, the last thing on his mind would be the younger english teacher across the hall from him, right? Thats what you stuck to telling yourself. Every time you hovered over his chair while pointing out how to work the teacher-portal to the grading site or how you thought he was looking at you in the break room during quick conversations, even if he was looking for a relationship – there were plenty of single teachers closer to his age he would be more interested in. Like Jenny, who seemed to ruin your small moments in his room. 

“Thank you so much, Y/N. Seriously, I would be lost without you.” Pedro huffs, looking up to you, your triumphant smile evident, after many explanations and pointing, you finally taught him how to set up his smartboard screen to be different than his computer screen. “You flatter me, Pedro.” you tease. Going to take a seat back in the chair you had pulled up earlier. He smiles his normal soft, heart-warming smile – “So uh, I’ve been thinking –” 

“Ms. L/N!” Jens voice comes in, she sounds happy to see you, but anyone knew that was forced. As much as teachers are forced to come across as one big happy tight-knit family in front of students and parents, if you throw in 100 something people together, not everyone is going to get along. This just happens to be the case for you and Jen, or Jenny — luckily for you, she teaches art downstairs. So you rarely have to interact, but shes been spending a lot more time upstairs as of late. Unfortunate for you. “It’s so funny that I caught you here, I was just looking for you in your room. One of my students was talking about some assignment you posted, they got confused about it n’ I told them to talk to you, I had to talk to Mr. Pascal, so I walked with them up here, figured when you weren’t in your room this is where you’d be.” 

“Thanks, Jen.” you reply, slowly standing up, your attention turns back to Pedro, who seems upset that you’re leaving before he could finish what he had to say. “Hold that thought for me, okay?” he only nods in response, watching you walk out the door. It's too bad, too, he should really learn to close his classroom door whenever you come by, perhaps this way there would be less distraction, and less of Jenny.

TAGLIST

@djarinsstuff

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Two Hours - Chapter 1 - Shigaraki x Reader

***

Maybe, just maybe, some things might be worth waiting for.

***

Two hours.

He was late by a full two hours. Meaning 120 minutes, 2700 seconds, 7200000 precious milliseconds wasted of your life. You'd know, you counted.

You glared at the library clock again, as if it was its fault you had been stood up. Disgruntledly, you pushed back your chair, getting up to put your laptop and revision materials back in your bag. It was the last time you'd try and help a stranger because clearly, strangers sucked.

You had done tutoring for different classes since your second year in college. Literature, philosophy, anthropology, history- name it, you could teach it. And you loved doing it like few other things made you happy. Was there anything as wonderful as showing others the beauty of human nature, its creativity, its passion, its sincerity?

"Sincerity my ass," you thought, angrily shoving your backpack on one shoulder. It clunked loudly as it bumped against a wooden shelf, and the librarian threw you a dirty look from the other side of the room. Part of you felt bad; you had spent a while trying to cultivate a good relationship with the older man, since you spent most of your free time in the library. But the rest of you, which was to say almost all of you, didn't care, because you were unbelievably frustrated.

You had had students give you tons of excuses before: they were sick, their mom was sick, their neighbors' dog was sick, and they just had to skip the tutoring session. You didn't mind that; they'd always text at least an hour in advance, and you'd have the time to read their message and go home with a smile, instead of walking all the way to the library. 

But today's guy was different. You knew he had your number and your email address: it was part of the tutoring agreement you had both signed online. And yet he hadn't had the decency, the respect, to send a single message to tell you he couldn't come to the two-hour appointment he himself scheduled. And now, you had just wasted two hours, excitedly waiting to expose the wonders of literature to a guy who couldn't even bother to text you "can't come". 

You gave the librarian a half-hearted nod of apology and headed toward the big glass doors at the front of the building. The weather looked moody outside, the sky grey and heavy like rain could start pouring at any moment. You didn't need to check your bag to know you didn't pack an umbrella. It was clear this was one of the days.

Sighing, you opened the heavy door to walk out at the same moment a man pushed to get in. You tucked your body to the side to keep the door open for him, but he flatly ignored the gesture, walking past you without uttering a "thank you".

"Yup," you thought, "strangers suck."

Before you could take more than a few steps outside, a droplet of water fell right on top of your nose, stopping you in your tracks. And then another, and another, and in a flash, the area was getting flooded, puddles already forming around on the dark asphalt. You couldn't help as another sigh escaped you, bracing for the impact of the freezing rain as you took a step forward into the tempest.

Then, something grabbed you by the shoulder.

You yelped in surprise and turned around, fists instinctively bunching up to your chest to protect yourself, heart racing. It took you a few seconds to recognize the rude guy who had just passed you on his way in.

He was tall, taller than you had first realized. His oversized hoodie made it hard to gauge his frame, the visibly worn-out fabric stretched shapelessly around his torso. Your eyes looked up for a face you couldn't find: the black hood fully obscured his features, and for a second, images of killers in horror movies alarmingly flashed through your mind.

You shoved yourself out of his grip and took a step back, eyes wide. He nonchalantly placed his hand back in his pocket, an unimpressed glare staring right back at you. His eyes were red, bright red.

"You're the tutor, right?"

You looked at the ominous figure incredulously.

"What ?"

"You're the tutor, right ?" he repeated in a low, raspy tone. He sounded annoyed.

You kept staring at him, wondering if he was speaking in a foreign language you had never heard of.

Then, his words started registering.

"Tomura..." you started uncertainly, the math adding up in your head as you remembered the name on the little manilla folder you had prepared for today, "Shigaraki ?"

A small smile etched itself onto the man's face, and you noticed how cracked his lips were, a faded scar going through the dried skin. Strands of slightly greasy hair, white as snow, rebelliously escaped the black hood, and for a second you caught another glimpse of his crimson eyes. But they disappeared back under the shadow of the fabric, and you realized your body had tensed like a rock.

"I'm the guy," he said nonchalantly, the hand you had pushed away going up to his neck and mindlessly scratching the skin there. There were marks there, some old, and others so fresh they looked like they were bleeding. Anxiously, you wondered if instead of a killer, you had stumbled on an addict.

"Hey, so when do we go get a seat inside? It's fucking cold out here," he added, gesturing lazily towards the library.

You kept staring.

And staring.

And staring.

He hadn't possibly said what you thought he had just said. No one was so impossibly clueless and self-centered that they would come two hours late to a meeting and act like they were the one who was being bothered. But the cold rain falling down your face made it aboundedly clear: this was real.

"No," you finally said, enunciating the word slowly.

He looked as confused as you first did, the smug, composed look on his face instantly falling. He didn't look like he was told "no" often, and you felt the flame of anger start to burn inside you.

"What do you mean, no?"

"I mean no," you replied drily, feeling confidence coursing back through your body. There was no doubt in your mind you already looked like a drowned rat from the rain, and that your waterproof mascara was starting to reach its limits. But you weren't about to be scared of some loser trying to look tough with a crusty hoodie and unwashed hair.

"You came two hours late for the tutoring, which lasts two hours. My work slot with you is from four to six, and it's exactly," you snapped, bringing your phone up to his face, "Ten past six, so my work here is done."

He stared at your phone in incomprehension, then back at you, irritation slowly settling on his pale features. His thin brows frowned, and you noticed another scar marring his right eyelid the piercing crimson stare bore into you. Maybe he was some kind of gang member, and if so, was it a good idea to mouth off to him?

"Look, I don't know what crawled up your ass, but I'm paying to have a tutor," he snarled drily. "That's not fair."

You had to wonder if you were even talking to an adult. So maybe he was a killer, or an addict, or a gang member, and he would end up stabbing you for it, but by God, were you going to put that guy back in place.

"Well, tough luck, buddy," you almost spat out, your usually level-headed patience entirely fizzled out, "it wasn't fair to make me wait two hours and then expect me to have nothing other to do in my life than tutoring your sorry ass. But life isn't fair, is it ?"

You turned around, throwing the man one last angry look: "If you want tutoring, then be there next week. On time."

You felt oddly proud of yourself as you walked away, leaving him wet and alone in the rain. And if you were slightly trembling at the feeling of the crimson stare boring through you all the way down the library path, well, you just had to pray he didn't notice it.

---

"Huh," you noted with both surprise and apprehension, "you're here."

And indeed, there he was, slumped in one of the library's chairs, the stranger you were certain wouldn't come to your meeting this week: Tomura Shigaraki.

You had spent a few days feeling bad about the way you had handled things; yes, he had been incredibly late and entitled, but you never gave him any time to explain himself for it all. Maybe he did have a good reason, and maybe he had only acted so entitled because he was having an especially rough day.

One look at the condescending glare he threw you was enough to confirm that wasn't the case.

"Yeah, I'm here," he muttered, looking away, his right hand still ripping away at his neck like the last time you had seen him. You couldn't help but wonder about the gesture, the practiced way his fingers would visibly carve into the skin. Allergies? Eczema?

His vermillion eyes never left your figure as you put your bag down and awkwardly sat across from him, looking down at the carpeted floors. 

"Why are you that surprised ?" he added flatly, "I told you, I'm paying for this shit."

You weren't a confrontational person; or at least, you did your best to avoid confrontation. But you'd been tired last week, and his whole little disrespectful charade had pushed you over the edge. You weren't sure you were up to deal with it again.

Your lack of response seemed to irritate him; he picked up a small handheld console from his lap, immediately busying himself in a game like your presence held no meaning to him.

You took a small breath, not wanting your temper to rise again; if you wanted this to work, you'd need to be the first to give the olive branch. You put on a nice, professional smile: "Let's put everything to the side for a moment, start over. Maybe we could both introduce ourselves again ?"

His thumbs toyed with the joysticks on his handheld, disinterest palpable."Why? I know who you are."

You could have strangled him.

"Nevermind," you smiled so forcefully it hurt your cheeks. "So, you're here for Lit 3250, Absurdism in Literature. That's a fun class."

"I'm only taking it because I have to," he grumbled. "I'm in computer programming. They make us take a class in the humanities department because the education system is fucked."

You raised an eyebrow at that, genuinely surprised: "They're making you do literature in computer science ?"

He shrugged, his eyes going back to the game on the small screen with obvious boredom.

"Told you. The system is fucked."

You pulled out the little manilla file you had prepared for him from your bag, spreading a few documents on the table between the two of you. For a second, you could have sworn his bored expression flickered into something new, but it was gone before you could register it.

"Well, I might not be able to do much about that, but I can try and make the class easier," you smiled a little more genuinely this time as he put his handheld to the side to look at the papers you had slid in front of him.

To your complete astonishment, as you guided him through the material, the man listened, never once taking notes, yet able to answer any question you threw his way in the shortest, most concise way possible. He seemingly absorbed the information while looking wholeheartedly disinterested, like remembering the words was barely any more work than eating or breathing. You had to wonder if the programmer in him coded the sentences in his mind, imputing every word as little lines of binary code, or if he was just this naturally, annoyingly smart.

"Alright, that's it for today," you concluded, noticing you had gone over the material you had planned for two sessions in just the last two hours. "I didn't take you for the kind of guy to listen to a tutor, but you've done a really good job today."

You gave him an honest smile, hoping to finally mend the bridge from last weekend's incident. Instead, he promptly looked away, lips tightening into a thin line.

"S' just cause I need to pass the class to get my diploma. I don't really give a shit about any of this stuff."

If he saw your face fall at that, he didn't show it. He grabbed his handheld and shoved it in his front pocket, promptly throwing his ragged backpack over his shoulder, as if the last thing he wanted was to stay here a minute longer with you.

"I'll see you next week, then," you hesitantly said, more a question than a statement. He didn't look back at you when he spoke with a grunt, already making his way out.

"Whatever."

---

"So Camus' thing is society is fucked, and as soon as you realize it you gotta kill yourself, right ?"

"Basically !" you beamed excitedly, circling a paragraph in the text facing him with the tip of your finger. "It's the idea that when you understand your role as just a cog in the machine in a mindless daily life, you have to either ignore it to rejoin society, or leave society altogether." 

A small smile danced on Shigaraki's chapped lips, as smug and mocking as all his smiles were. You sometimes wondered if his face could ever express pure, genuine happiness, or if it was perpetually stuck with that self-satisfied expression. 

"Yeah, I can get behind that."

It fit him, in a strange way. And he had every reason to be pompous: in three weeks, you had both gone through double the material you had planned for his first sessions, as be blasted each lesson like a simple tutorial fight in one of the many video games you'd catch him play before each lesson.

"Me too, actually," you agreed.

He looked at you disbelievingly: "You? Feeling like you're not a part of society? Give me a break, you're a tutor in university, there's probably a normie award for that."

"Well, even us normies are really just always doing the same thing, aren't we ?" you explained, laying your chin against your hand pensively. "Take the two of us. We always meet here at four o'clock on Wednesdays, at the same library, at the same table. We don't go through the motions because we want to, we do it because we have to, and that's what everyone expects from us. Kinda makes you want to quit society too, doesn't it ?"

For a moment, he said nothing. There was something unsettling in the way his ruby eyes bore into you, like he was judging your very soul. You felt your cheeks unwillingly redden after a few seconds under his piercing stare, looking away in slight embarrassment. If a few weeks spent with him were enough to convince you he wasn't a serial killer, you still found yourself troubled whenever he'd look at you too long.

He finally seemed satisfied with whatever he found looking into you, eyes mercifully leaving your face before settling on something on the table.

"That's a Plus Ultra sticker," he commented flatly.

You followed his gaze to your cellphone, face down, the small video game logo barely visible on the cover. How had he even noticed it? 

It wasn't that you were ashamed of gaming in your free time, but you knew for a fact the entire literature department bore a clear disdain for any media not printed onto pages. They laughed off anything else as childish and a waste of time. Needless to say, you had never shared that passion with anyone on campus before that moment.

But damn, did you love Plus Ultra.

You couldn't help but grin excitedly at him: "Oh wow, you play too !"

"Sometimes," he shrugged with obviously fake disinterest, his crimson eyes brighter than you had ever seen them before."It's not the best game or anything, but it's alright. I feel like the whole hero fantasy trope is kinda overplayed."

He suddenly clammed up, like he had just remembered who he was talking to. The classic sour, haughty look you had gotten to know reappeared on his face.

"I just didn't know any girls played that game," he mumbled.

And there he was, the asshole you had met on that first rainy day. 

"Well," you replied drily, "I play, and I'm actually one of the top All Might players in the country."

His pale fingers tremored at that, the excited brightness that he was trying very hard to conceal back in his eyes. It was so childish it was almost endearing, in a way.

"Well, what a coincidence. I'm also a top All Might player, except I was in the world ranking, last time I checked," he bragged, nonchalantly picking at his fingernails. "Maybe I could teach you a thing or two later." 

As soon as the words left his mouth, the implication of a "later", of a world where you would be together outside of the required tutoring time, seemed to dawn on him. He stammered wordlessly, red spreading like fire on his pale face. It was... a lot more endearing than you would have thought.

"F-forget it. That was stupid."

You couldn't help but soften at that. Maybe, underneath the dirty hoodie and the deadly glare, he was as timid and insecure as you felt he was. The lashing out, the quips, the bratty entitlement- were they all just a facade for a guy who genuinely didn't know how to interact with others?

 "Well," you hummed, "maybe after you're done with your midterms you could come over to my dorm for a match. There's a big communal TV you can pair consoles with."

The cold, detached mask was back, but it was much harder to believe with the pink coloring that reached the very tip of his ears.

"Yeah, maybe."

---

A month passed before you encountered your first hurdle in your tutoring work with Shigaraki, in the form of a "CLOSED" sign glaring back at you from the library's glass doors.

"Damn it," you mumbled, opening up your phone to find an unread message from the faculty announcing a temporary shutdown. Shigaraki, who had taken up the habit of coming on time for your sessions, looked incredibly pissed.

"So the fuckers think they can send one email and be done with it ?" he angrily snapped, kicking the library's plexiglas door so harshly it made you flinch. You took a mental note to never do anything to find yourself on the wrong side of that kick.

"Well, we can reschedule for tomorrow!" you chirped. Perhaps he'd appreciate you trying to put a positive spin on the situation.

The look he gave you could have turned you into dust.

"I'm already here. And I'm busy tomorrow. I have important things to do."

Briefly, you wondered if by important things he meant staying home and gaming. The college's main campus wasn't very large, and in the few years you had studied here, you had never caught a glimpse of him once. He had the kind of dim presence one could easily forget, but if you had passed him before, you would have known.

"I think the law building lets you take rooms for study sessions, " you proposed.

He sighed, voice raspy with irritation. "It's full of pretentious assholes," he replied drily, "and it's almost a thirty minutes walk from here."

"You're kind of a pretentious asshole yourself", you thought silently. It was clear he wasn't going to help or do anything that required too much effort on his part. When Shigaraki wanted to be annoying, he was really annoying.

"You got a better option ?" you mumbled, frustrated.

He looked down at his shoes, suddenly silent. "Ah ha", you thought victoriously, "didn't think so".

Then, words you could have never expected came out of his mouth: "Yeah. Come to my place."

You looked at him incredulously. He looked as surprised as you did, like he wasn't the one who had just talked.

"I live like ten minutes from here," he explained hurriedly, glaring down at the asphalt like it might melt and swallow him whole, "it'll take way less time."

It wasn't as if you didn't know the guy at all, but to say you knew him enough to go to his house, alone, was a stretch.

Although you had been able to shake off your initial fear of him, you still felt something dark and looming in the way he carried himself. For as easy as it was to read him when he was embarrassed or caught off guard, the calculating, sharp gaze he seemed to judge the world with still left you at a loss. Even more so right now, when it was directed at you.

"Ok," you eventually said before you could decide against it. What was the worst that could happen?

At first, you hadn't had much reason to worry; you walked along the main streets that cornered the campus, still filled with quite a few students going about their business. But then, he took you into a small alleyway. And then another, and another, and another, to the point where you couldn't recognize what part of the city you were even in. The buildings you passed had gotten older and older the more you walked, most of the ones surrounding you were now decrepit and abandoned. They loomed over you and Shigaraki, fully blocking the sun, a claustrophobic maze of old bricks and concrete.

You realized that you had drifted closer to Shigaraki unconsciously, your shoulder almost brushing against his. But you couldn't bring yourself to move away, the simple proximity of someone you at least relatively knew reassuring to your mind.

If Shigaraki noticed, he said nothing, his long, lanky legs moving forward without hesitation. You took a moment to discreetly observe the man, his features more detailed now that you stood next to him. The scarring was much worse than you had first realized. It spread from the small glimpses of his forehead you could see behind strands of shaggy white hair, to the start of his chest hidden by his black shirt. In some spots, the skin looked dry, old; in others, it was like it had been freshly ripped apart by sharp and uneven nails. You had found it worrying for yourself, at first, when you thought he was some kind of junkie; but now you found yourself worrying over how much the bruising hurt him.

His hand protectively grabbed his neck when he noticed your staring, thin eyebrows frowning in annoyance.

"Before you ask, yes, I've tried creams and ointment and all that shit the doctors send you to buy at the drugstore. It doesn't work. I know I'm ugly, you don't need to rub it in."

A pang of guilt hit your chest. You didn't think before honestly replying: "I don't think you're ugly."

He looked at you coldly, any trace of friendliness gone: "You think you're real smart playing with me, don't you?"

"No, I mean it, I don't think you're ugly!" you hurriedly exclaimed. "Just, ok, look."

You quickly pulled back the sleeve of your shirt, showing him the inside of your forearm with insistence. His eyes narrowed suspiciously: "What the hell am I supposed to look at?"

"A scar," you replied, showing him the thin pale line that crossed your skin. "I got it as a kid when I fell from a tree in kindergarten. Oh, and I also have this one!"

You tugged at your pants to reveal a darker webbed mark on your ankle, the skin smoothed by time: "That one is really stupid, I got it from wearing heels three sizes too small at my high school prom and falling down a flight of stairs. And I also have this other one-" 

"I get it !" he interrupted, frustrated. "Yeah, alright, you have some scars too, but it's not the same thing as me."

"I know it's not," you replied calmly. "I'm not trying to say it is. But... I don't think having scars makes me ugly. I think they show I've been through something, and I'm still here to tell the story. And I think you might have been through a lot, but you're still standing here with me. So... if you don't think my scars make me ugly, then you shouldn't think yours do."

 

He didn't reply, silently making his way forward. Had you made him feel angrier, or even embarrassed? In one last effort to get your point across, you added:

"I think they kind of make you like Eraserhead in Plus Ultra 3."

That made him stop right in his tracks.

"You...think I look like Eraserhead ?" he hesitantly asked.

You nodded, and his cheeks reddened slightly. He took a few seconds before letting out the next words:

"Don't laugh," he warned you, "or I'm leaving you here. You can just find your own way back or get murked in an alley for all I care."

You crossed your fingers, presenting them to him ceremoniously.

"I won't laugh. Promise."

"I actually decided to grow out my hair to look like him."

Cute.

That was the first word to come into your mind. Cute. 

You quickly chased the very strange and unwelcome thought away, in case Shigaraki interpreted your pause as a laugh. 

"Well," you replied, "when I was seventeen, I dyed my hair bright yellow to look like All Might. I think I definitely got the short end of the stick in the idea department. "

He laughed, honest to God laughed, a raspy and genuine sound that made something foreign in your chest tightened. You started laughing too, and soon, you were nothing but two giggling idiots in the absolute middle of nowhere.

"Guess you're not that smart after all, miss tutor," he commented with a smirk.

His eyes lingered on you for a moment too long, like he wanted to say something else, but ultimately chose against it. He continued walking without a word, and you followed him the rest of the way in companionable silence, never straying far from his side.

---

It was a bar.

Or rather, the remains of something that once was a bar. A dingy neon sign with the three-letter word hung precariously above the door, the large "B" flashing within an ounce of its life. The walls were covered in graffiti and grime, a suspiciously moldy smell seemingly emanating from the bricks themselves.

"You... live here?" you asked hesitantly as Shigaraki made his way towards the building with no hesitation.

"Yeah," he let out, head snapping back around and eyes narrowing defensively. "You have a problem with that?"

Yes, several, including the probability of being stabbed to death here and my remains being found in the back of a garbage truck.

"No, no problem," you said.

He answered that with a grunt. The small staircase that lead to the entrance creaked under his weight, and he pushed the front door open.

"Wait here," he commanded. It was clear the subject wasn't up for discussion, so you opted for nodding along. "I'll come get you when I'm done with something."

It was all starting to feel like a terrible idea. So what if he liked the same games you did and actually seemed to listen to you rant about literature? You barely knew anything else about him. 

You knew he felt lost in society and rejected by the world. You knew his whole face would become red as a tomato anytime he felt embarrassed or flustered. You knew he would bite his lip in concentration when he played on his handheld, and that his leg would bounce up and down like a puppy's tail every time he got close to winning. You knew his eyes were unlike any you had seen before.

But what did you really know?

"You lost ?"

You spun around so fast you stumbled on your own feet, almost falling straight onto the dirty pavement.

The man standing in front of you had sneaked by so silently you had never registered his presence, even with how close he had gotten. He seemed very amused at the way you backed away in fear, your eyes wide.

"No, no I'm fine, I'm- I'm waiting for a friend, actually," you managed to stammer out.

Somehow, he didn't look like he believed that at all.

He was the picture-perfect example of men your parents had told you to stay away from. His skin was covered in dark tattoos, their shapes incomprehensibly mingled with what appeared to be burn scars, seemingly spreading all over his body. In the dark, one could mistake him for a walking corpse, blue eyes glistening unnaturally in the middle of a patchwork face.

The man dragged his cigarette across his lips, letting a dark puff of smoke escape.

"What a friend, making you wait outside in the cold," he commented, the burnt and inked skin around his mouth moving in a manner you could only describe as uncanny. "Pretty stupid of you to hang out with people from here, princess. Lots of creeps in the area."

He moved closer, so close you could smell the tobacco off his breath, and the instinctive need to run coursed through your body.

"No need to be scared though," he let out with a smirk that screamed the absolute contrary. "I can stay with you for a while. Protect ya."

He was too close for you to run, now; if you tried, he could easily grab you with the large hand that was nonchalantly making its way toward your waist. 

"Dabi."

Your head spun towards the entrance at the same time as the man's did. Relief spread through your body at the sight of Shigaraki, standing in front of the door where he had left you. His crimson gaze, which usually never left your form alone for more than a few seconds, was not focused on you, but on the stranger, who looked back at you with an utterly flabbergasted expression. Whoever he was, Shigaraki wasn't happy to see him.

"That's your friend ?" the stranger snorted as he started laughing uncontrollably, like he had just heard the funniest joke in his life. "Holy shit, you're even dumber than I thought you were !"

Clearly, Shigaraki did not find that funny in the slightest. You had forgotten how cold his expression had been when you first met him, uncaring and eerie. This was that, but colder, angrier, like the ripples that started forming in the water as a devastating storm would approach.

"Dabi," he repeated, and his tone was dark, final. For the first time in weeks, you felt something akin to fear at the sight of him, even knowing his anger wasn't directed at you. Had he always looked so unnervingly intimidating?

"Ok, ok, she's all yours, boss," the man finally said as he backed away, dropping the butt of his cigarette before unceremoniously stomping it. "Didn't mean to touch the property."

Tomura silently walked towards you, a rigid, cold hand forcefully grabbing yours and pulling you towards him. He headed back in, fingers so tightly clutched against yours that it hurt, and you followed without protest. You threw one last look at the man he called Dabi, a look of pure amusement on his face.

"Property", he had said. 

The innards of the bar were much cozier than the outside view let on. It was relatively well kept, with a red counter with a few retro-style stools occupying the majority of the space, the leftover corner dedicated to an old leather couch facing a battered TV. With no windows on the walls, the only light came from a few yellowish neons hanging on the ceiling. The room was empty except for the well-dressed man behind the counter, who you could only assume was the bartender. He merely nodded at your arrival, his face obscured by a cloud of dark hair in the dim light, what you could discern of his body barely a shadow against the wall of bottles.

Shigaraki ignored him, pointedly dragging you to a door at the back, which lead to a small, dark corridor. He only stopped when he reached the last door, swiftly turning the rusty knob.

It wasn't difficult to understand it was his bedroom; the only light came from the double monitor screen connected to an impressive gaming PC. With the exception of a few shelves filled to the brim with trinkets and figurines, the walls were mostly bare, the white coat of paint discolored and yellowed. Visibly dirty clothes were pilled up in a corner, as if someone had hurriedly picked them up for the floor and tossed them there in an unsuccessful attempt to conceal them.

"Sit anywhere," he grumbled, looking away. "Or don't. Whatever."

He was even worse at hiding his blush than he was at hiding his clothes. You couldn't help but smile.

There were only two spots you could sit in the room: the expensive-looking gaming chair, which was clearly the most valuable item in the entire bar, or the messy one-person bed, which seemed to not have seen a washing machine in a while. The last thing you wanted was to anger Shigaraki after the encounter with the man outside, so sitting in his gaming chair seemed like a bad idea. You opted for the bed, praying to God the sheets naturally looked so patchy and discolored.

"W-what the fuck are you doing?" he sputtered immediately as you sat, eyes wide.

"Sitting," you replied simply.

"Not there! Are you stupid or something?" he audibly cringed. Damn it, you had made the wrong call. "Just sit on the floor. It's not dirty or anything, Kurogiri cleaned it recently."

You glanced doubtfully at the impressive amount of energy drinks and used tissues littering the room before lowering yourself down out of fear of seeming rude. Briefly, you wondered if Kurogiri was the man you saw mend to the bar. He looked nothing like Shigaraki, and referred to him far too politely to be family. He was too young to be his father either way. Was he both the bartender and the housekeeper?

"But why would Shigaraki have a housekeeper?", you wondered silently

"The guy outside, Dabi," you finally said. "He called you boss."

Shigaraki didn't even bother turning around to answer flatly: "And ?"

"Do you... own this place?"

"Something like that. Here."

He handed you a controller you immediately recognized, your hands automatically wrapping themselves around it just like with the one you had spent countless hours playing with at home. Shigaraki smirked slightly at the sight of you already being ready for combat.

"So, spill it out. What's your tragic backstory ?" you asked, leaning your back to the wall with a mischievous smile.

"What ?" he replied, seemingly caught off guard.

"C'mon," you pressed. "I've never seen you wear anything other than a black hoodie over a black shirt and black sweatpants. You're not subtle about it."

"I don't think you've unlocked that dialogue option yet," he retorted, with more than a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "How about you? What's your tragic backstory ?"

You chuckled: "What makes you think I have one?"

"You'd have to be a little fucked up to follow some guy you barely know into a shady bar in the middle of an abandoned factory district," he replied, raising an eyebrow, a wicked smile on his lips.

You couldn't help but smile at that; he was right. "Well, I don't think you've unlocked that yet either, Shigaraki."

"Just call me Tomura," he offered, a touch of resignation in his voice. Was he finally warming up to you? "Might as well if I'm stuck with you for the rest of the semester."

Maybe not. But something felt oddly nice about this, about him, and no matter how weird it all was, you couldn't help but let yourself bask in the strange feeling.

The computer let out a familiar little tune as the game booted up on the screen. Shigaraki visibly hesitated between sitting on his own chair or the floor, ultimately selecting the floor while keeping a reasonable distance from you. You had a feeling he wasn't very comfortable with women. But what he may have lacked in social skills, he definitely made up in gaming: his eyes burnt with fiery passion as the title screen appeared on the monitor, his hands tight around the controller. The look he threw you was one of pure confidence:

"C'mon. Show me what you're made of."

He immediately selected All Might in the character selection, implicitly daring you to do the same. All Might was the most powerful character in all the game, but he was famously the hardest one to master, with his controls requiring intense speed and dexterity. You could tell Shigaraki hadn't been lying about being one of the greatest All Might players; his fingers were already lined up on the buttons for a noticeably hard deadly combo. But you weren't one to back down on a challenge.

"5 rounds. No bonus power-ups," you smiled right back at him, pressing the button to also select All Might. The screen flashed red as the game loaded the fighting arena.

"You're playing a pretty dangerous game, you know that, player two ?" he commented, a hint of warning in his tone.

"I don't intend on losing," you replied with a grin.

And if the wild spark in his eyes meant anything, neither did he.

[glitxhwayventeen]

Her. (Part 2)

Characters: Yoon Jeonghan x Joshua Hong x Female Reader (But you’re barely in it babe sry)

Genre: Unrequited love, angst, longing, high school reunion scenerio

Warnings: Hella angst (made me sad writing it but I like it still), lots of panicking and sadness of the reader, Jeonghan low key being an ass but also he’s a sweet heart, Shua is also low key oblivious to love and going through it, mentions of miscarriage (but not really cause…well read it I’m not spoiling), unrequited love?, fist fight between Joshua and Jeonghan so a little bruise cut and pain mentions.

Author’s Note: I haven’t edited this yet because I’ve been busy today but I figured I should at least get it out. So things might change a bit later on.

Her. - (Part 1)

The girl Joshua had fallen in love with was a girl from his philosophy class. The first time you laid eyes on her was when he slid a diamond ring on her finger and she wailed and sobbed ‘yes’ over and over again.

She was very attractive. Her flickering hazel eyes, long neatly styled raven colored hair, and cute little button nose topped with her perfectly chiseled heart shaped face all made sure of that. You thought her beauty outmatched your own easily.

And from what you eventually learned about her, she was also quite intelligent. Always having no trouble keeping up with conversations ranging from the most silly to the most serious of topics. So when you found out she was majoring in law, you weren’t surprised.

She came from money too. Her family had sent her to boarding school in the united states during her early years and finished off her education at a girls finishing school in Switzerland. And, while parents loved you, they could never afford to give you such luxuries on their modest salaries.

She held herself high and had a posture so straight it would’ve made seasoned ballerinas cry. You were a known slouch due to your years as a student.

Her nails were always done in neutral tones and her clothing choices always refined and luxurious. Used to a life of the lower middle class, you never splurged on such extra pleasantries.

Her personality clashed with yours often, her thoughts and choices much more on the right whereas yours were far more left. So you naturally bickered and fought, something you truly did try to keep from happening so your best friend wouldn’t be caught in the middle. But he didn’t have to be caught up in the drama between the two of you for too long.

It was right before the two were to be married. They had chosen a destination wedding in France because her parents wanted only the best for their darling daughter. Joshua was the dream husband they could’ve ever hoped for her to end up with. So of course it wasn’t a stretch for them to want their only child to have her perfect dream wedding to match.

You thought everything was running smoothly. Well, as smoothly as could be when the love of your life was marrying someone else.

You were at the grand hotel’s bar knocking a few shots back with your two male best friends as if everything was fine. As if nothing had changed, reminiscing about old stories and laughing about the good times you’d had. Of course, over those past few months everything had changed.

She suddenly came down from her shared suite with Joshua, angry as you’d ever seen her, and yanked him away from the bar counter harshly before you or Jeonghan could even comprehend what was happening.

You wanted to tell her she was gonna end up hurting him with the way she was pulling him around. You wanted to smack her for the iron tight grip she had around his forearm. But you couldn’t. It wasn’t your place anymore.

After a few minutes of mumbled arguing with each other towards the bar’s opening, Joshua eventually returned to you, looking as if all the life had been drained out of him.

“What’s wrong Shua?” You softly asked, not wanting to overstep your recently formed boundaries with him that she’d set for you to follow, but also wanting to give your friend a way to speak about what was troubling him.

The boy turned to you with eyes so watery and so broken, you could’ve swore you heard his heart tearing into two beneath his dress shirt.

“N-Nothings wrong (Y/N),” He promised, grabbing Jeonghan’s shot from the table and throwing it passed his lips with a hiss, “Just stressed over the wedding is all.”

You all knew he was lying. Something was hurting him so much more than he was letting on, but he didn’t want to speak on it. Had you been in your old friendship with him, the caring and loving one you had been used to before she came into the picture, you would’ve pressed him on the matter. You and Jeonghan wouldn’t have let him leave his seat until he spilled his guts to you. But that was then, this was now.

Instead, all you could do was give him a warm smile and a statement you’d hoped would bring him some comfort in his time of trouble, “Don’t worry Shua, the wedding will be over soon and everything will go back to normal.”

He turned to face you, lip slightly trembling as he put on a brave face, “Yeah, everything will be over soon.”

If only you had realized in the moment just how much he had meant those words.

——

*15 years later*

A decade and a half had passed since you’d spent time with your two best friends all together. The day of his honeymoon, Shua seemingly cut all contact with both you and Jeonghan with little to no explanation.

You had tried to message him like you normally did to see how he was the day after his big day, but you didn’t get an answer.

As days passed, you tried to call him to make sure he was okay and not dead in a ditch somewhere. Jeonghan started too because, when the two of you got back from your little extended vacation from the wedding, all of Joshua’s stuff was gone from your shared apartment.

That’s when you even went so far as to call his mother to make sure he was still alive only to be met with an apologetic ‘I don’t know what’s going on’ from her.

Of course she knew what had happened, you found out later that Joshua told her everything the day of his nuptials. Sh just didn’t know how to break the big news to you because she knew how close you were and how much pain it would cause you.

He eventually sent you a letter explaining why he wouldn’t be associating with you or Jeonghan any further. In the letter, he kept insisting that it was no one’s fault but his own. That he’d simply grown apart from the both of you and your childish ways and the move was a long time coming now that he was a married man.

While you were reading the heartbreaking announcement to Jeonghan, who was beyond pissed at the cowardly move you ex best friend had made, with tears flowing down your cheeks, you remembered your very last conversation with him.

*Flashback*

‘Wanna dance with me?’ The cheeky, now wedded, boy smiled slightly at you with an elongated hand held out your way.

The warm alcohol you had consumed to make it through the ceremony was running through your system, which caused you to be a bit bolder than you normally would’ve been at the request, ‘You can dance with me whenever you’d like Mr. Hong,’ you giggled, grabbing his gentle hand with ease and letting him pull you to the dance floor.

As you swayed to the music, your head held to his chest so you could listen to the calming thudding of his heartbeat while he spoke about the wedding, his doubts of being a good husband, and how he was absolutely dreading his honeymoon.

‘I don’t know how I’m gonna do this (Y/N),’ He gulped, probably not even registering how lost you were while you kept your ear to his body for what you assumed would be the last time, ‘I-I wish things could’ve turned out differently.’

The shakiness in his voice broke you out of your longing trance. He wasn’t your husband to hold yourself to the way you were holding yourself to him. You needed to snap out of it anyways.

‘What do you mean differently Shua?’ You lifted your head so you could look up to face him reluctantly, trying to focus on the conversation you were having with him rather than the feelings you felt for him.

He sighed and gripped the hand you held to his shoulder and brought it towards the center of his chest, ‘N-Nothing. I don’t really mean anything by it really. I don't think anyways, it’s just-’ He paused, training his glittery eyes to your own as if he were trying to memorize the stars that shined only for him within them, ‘-Don’t you ever wish things were different?’

The question threw you off. You didn’t understand what he meant by the question, nor did you figure it out decades later. You were at a loss for words and needed more clarification. From the jittery boy you’d always see as your first love.

So through your tipsy state you asked, ‘Different how?’

That’s when he broke eye contact with you to drop his head down. Through your drunken and saddened state, you could’ve swore you saw his lip quivering behind your intoxicated vision. But at the time you couldn’t be sure as you were far too busy trying not to forcefully cling yourself to his feet and beg him on your knees not to leave you for her.

‘I don't know just… different.’

Had you not tried so hard to bury your troubles in liquor, you might’ve caught on to the pregnant hesitation within his tone. Had you not been so wrapped up in your own internal conflict, you might’ve noticed him battling with his own.

But at the time, you just wanted him to enjoy his moment. It was supposed to be the happiest day of his life. So you thought you needed to remind him of that, even if you didn’t agree with his choice of bride.

‘I don't know Shua,’ You tried to lighten the mood by pretending to think, ‘Different is just another word for change. And you’ve changed a lot recently. I don’t think you need anymore different than you’ve already got. You’re an old married geezer now. I don’t think your little heart could take anymore!’ You joked, causing Joshua to let out a small snort and relax his worried face some.

‘I may be married now but I’m not old!’ He defended himself with the most genuine laugh you’d heard from him all night.

Your plan of relaxing him had been working. Only you could get him to calm down and let go of his stress. You knew him better than anyone else after all.

‘Mmm I don't know. She already chooses your clothes and tells you what to do,’ You stifled a giggle, ‘I think that pretty much classifies you as an old married couple even if you’re just starting out.’

You couldn’t tell if it was just your imagination or not, but you thought you saw the smile on his face faltered for a split second at the mention of her.

‘Yeah, she does tell me what to do a lot doesn’t she?’ He asked rhetorically, once more looking at his feet as you both tried to stay on rhythm with the music blaring through the loud speakers.

You hated when he tried to hide away from you. And you really especially hated seeing him so down on a day that was supposed to be everything he had ever wanted. So you were determined to make him happy again. Or at very least show him that the feelings you thought he was having were perfectly normal given the circumstance.

‘Maybe. But that’s what married life is about right?’ You quizzed, ‘Doing things you don’t always wanna do to make your spouse happy.’

You weren’t sure how marriage really worked. You didn’t think about the topic too much. The select few times you had previously, you only thought of marriage with Joshua, which you knew would be anything but ordinary. So you could really just only go off of what other people had spoken about to you in the past.

‘Yeah I guess,’ He sadly replied, ‘But sometimes, the things your spouse wants you to do can… have unforeseen consequences.’

You smirked at him with a raised brow, attempting to pull an answer out of him, ‘What type of unforeseen consequences?’

You watched as Joshua let a breath out through his nose, clearly uneased by the question, ‘Just… stuff. She doesn’t like my job or the amount of money I make. She doesn’t like the way I dress or act sometimes. She doesn’t like a lot of what I do or say. Just a lot of things really.’

A pang of pain shot through your already near crumbled heart at your best friend's words.

He loved his job teaching kindergarten. Sure it didn’t pay well, but he enjoyed waking up in the morning and actually looked forward to going to work because he loved the job and the kids so much. Joshua never cared about something as petty as money. But you knew his new wife and her family did.

You had noticed before just how much she tried to change his personality and the way he dressed. You had to watch every time she swatted him when he said or did something she didn’t like with anger bubbling over in your blood that you could never let boil over into the real world.

You’d known Joshua Hong nearly all your life and you knew he deserved better than to be treated as some sort of pet project for some rich family who looked down on poor people who’s standards were far too impossible to reach.

But part of you couldn’t help but feel bad for another reason. A lot of what she smacked him for was for the dirty jokes he’d learned from you and Jeonghan. A lot of the time when she rolled her eyes and told him to grow up was when he’d mimicked your usual behavior of stuffing his mouth with marshmallows to see how many he could fit in at once. Much of what she considered his unsophisticated behaviors were things you and Jeonghan had taught him your whole lives.

Him getting scolded was all your fault. Him being frustrated and pained with his new marriage was all your fault. His issues with his wife were all your fault. You were the one that made his life so difficult. And that thought hurt almost as much as when Joshua had told you he was marrying another woman.

‘Shua I’m-’ You tried to swallow back the lump that had formed in your throat, doing your best to not cry out of shame, ‘-I’m so sorry! You get in trouble because of me and Jeonghan’s personalities and humor! If we were better friends, if I were a better friend, you wouldn’t be going through all that!’

Your best friend could see the panic and guilt begin to wash over your face, so he stopped you dead in your tracks of both speaking and dancing and forced you to look up at him, ‘(Y/N), you listen to me right now. None of my life choices are on you or Jeonghan. None of them. I am a better person because of the both of you. I am the way I am because you showed me living everyday as if it were my last would never let me have any regrets. We’ve been through hell and back together more times than I can count,’ He insisted softly, starry eyes never leaving your glossy ones as he attempted to get you to see the weight of his words, ‘I need you to remember that. None of this is on you,’ He promised, ‘Absolutely none of this is your fault.’

*End of Flashback*

You still remembered that day as if it were yesterday, the ache and hurt an all too painful reminder of just how much it affected you to your present day.

But you couldn’t let it stop you from going on. So you stuck your last earring in your ear and took a final look at yourself in the mirror.

It was the day of your 20 year high school reunion. You had managed to get a sitter for your kids and had convinced your husband to attend with you in an act of emotional support.

You had only kept in contact with a few people from your younger days. You knew chances were you’d only be gone for an hour or two and then you’d no doubt find yourself going home before night had truly set simply because you’d get bored.

But you couldn’t help the horrible butterflies you had in your gut. Part of your brain couldn’t help the obsessive praying it was chanting that a certain someone wouldn’t end up coming, not that you thought he would. Joshua never was a person who attended special gatherings, he never considered such things were important.

Still, you couldn’t help the pure anxiety that ran through your veins. Something that was also very visible to your very concerned husband, who was also not someone who would usually attend such events if given the choice. But your comfort was far more urgent to him than his need to stay antisocial. So he agreed to go with you.

You were so busy nervously passively nitpicking at every possible imperfection with your appearance as you got lost in your negative thoughts, you almost didn’t notice the two strong arms that made their way to circle your abdomen.

“Are you ready to go now my love?” Your husband gently whispered into the shell of your ear before he dutifully kissed your temple, something he’d done a thousand times over your 12 year marriage.

You gave him a reassuring smile back and reached your arms over to cover his own, “Yes baby. I’m ready. We can go.”

There was no backing out.

——

As you entered into the halls of your old high school building, taking in the memories and nostalgia of it all while your adoring husband went to find you both some refreshments, you heard a voice you hadn’t heard in such a long time, you wondered if you were dreaming.

“(Y/N)? Is-Is that really you?”

But sure as the sun rose, you saw a real life Joshua Hong standing near the expertly crafted balloon arch with a big toothy smile on his somehow still perfectly pretty face.

He had changed some, it had been nearly two decades since you’d last seen him after all, but he was still the same Josh you’d grown up with. Just with some salt and pepper hair and a few more fine lines plastered on his face.

You all but froze in place, your blood running cold as you watched him make his way over to you with a drink stationed in his large hand.

“O-oh,” You stuttered, surprised he’d find the time to actually make it to the reunion since, last you’d seen on his mother’s social media account before she passed a few years ago, he’d become quite the successful and busy human rights lawyer, “H-Hello Joshua. W-what um… what are you doing here?”

You hadn’t meant to sound so cold towards him. But truthfully, how could you not be at least a little bit awkward with the man?

Sure everything happened a long time ago. But you had also known him your whole life at one point and he had easily left you hanging without even saying goodbye. So you figured being polite yet civil would be an appropriate way to speak with him.

He was very evidently hurt by your lack of enthusiasm to see him, though he tried to play it off like it didn’t affect him, “It is our high school reunion isn't it? Aren’t I supposed to be here?” He gave a small chuckle to lighten the mood.

“Yeah no of course!” You backtracked, not realizing how your tone of voice probably came off to him in the moment, “I just meant- well i mean- I know how busy you must be. Most of us didn’t think you’d make it.” You honestly told him.

Once he realized you weren’t necessarily telling him you didn’t want to see him there, he seemed to calm down a bit, “Are you kidding? How could I miss this?” He scoffed teasingly, “I had to see how some of these guys ended up! Especially the jocks!”

You quickly burst out laughing without ever having meant to. But you reasoned it was justified. The popular crowd made all of your lives a living hell while you were in school. The jocks in particular had it out for Joshua and bullied him relentlessly while also somehow finding time to crush Jeonghan’s carefree attitude enough to have him consider nearly dropping out. So you knew he meant he wanted to see if they turned out as badly as you all hoped they would.

That’s when you and him started to remember some high school memories out loud to each other like bad dances, failed science fairs, and student fights.

You were actually having a decent conversation with him that you found entertaining enough to not find a way to run for the hills, something you never would’ve pictured happening. You dared to say that it almost felt like old times. Almost.

It wasn’t until Jeonghan came to give you a drink that things really began.

“Here you go baby, one cup of something-that-will-most-probably-give-you-a-hangover as promised,” He reported, kissing you on the cheek whilst handing you a red solo cup full of a liquid you just knew you’d regret drinking tomorrow before properly turning to see who it was you were having a conversation with.

Though instead of him and Joshua starting to say their hellos with each other like you expected, the two men just stood in place staring at each other with looks you couldn’t quite place.

You knew Jeonghan was still just as upset with Joshua as you were, he was his best friend too after all.

In fact, it took some serious convincing to get him to agree that going to the reunion was a good idea because he didn’t want to relive any memories he had with Josh, or the ‘traitor’ as he so lovingly referred to him.

But you didn’t expect him to just go mute. Get angry, swear a little, maybe cuss him out/flip him off sure, but you certainly didn’t expect him to have a strange silent staring contest with the younger of the two boys in the middle of the reunion.

After what felt like forever, you decided to finally put a stop to the buffoonery by nudging your husband in the side to catch his attention, “Love, don’t you think you should actually, you know, say hello to each other?” You urged him with wide eyes.

But instead of complying like he normally would’ve when you’d done the same thing in similar situations, he just looked back at Joshua with an intensity you’ve never seen behind his glare and simply said “No.”

You were left dumbfounded. You always knew your husband was mad at your former best friend, he always made that very clear to anyone who brought the subject of him up, but to actually go as far as to announcing he didn’t want to speak with him out loud? To go as far as to break social etiquette just to spite someone he was pissed off? That was very very unlike your usually passive aggressive at best Jeonghan.

“What do you mean ‘no’ Hannie?” You turned to question him, though he refused to move his body or his sight away from Joshua’s direction.

Not that it mattered, because the younger man was doing the exact same thing. He just didn’t apparently have his wife there to try to get him to come to his senses like Jeonghan did.

Dryly, Jeonghan spoke with no expression anywhere to be seen on his face, “I mean what I said. No, I don't think we should say hello to each other.”

Your mouth fell open at your husband’s rude and blunt words. You’d seen him be nasty to people before, hell, you’ve helped him be nasty to people before. But even if he was mad as hell at him for what he did, it was still Joshua you were speaking about.

Even though he wasn’t your friend anymore, he was for most of your childhood and young adult lives. You figured the least he could do was be courteous enough to politely excuse the both of you to leave or subtly show him he wasn’t interested in starting a conversation with dry replies for the sake of your old friendship.

“Hannie that’s really ru-” you attempted to scold your husband, only to be cut off by Joshua instead.

“And why is that Jeonghan?” Shua asked with venom lacing his tone and an aggravated expression you’d never seen on him before.

Before you could deescalate the situation, you heard Jeonghan scoff, “Because you’re a fucking traitor!”

Now it was apparently Joshua’s turn to exhale in disgust, “Oh I’m the traitor?!” He huffed, getting a bit closer to Jeonghan, causing both men to quickly nudge you to the side so you’d be out of their lines of fire, “You’re fucking kidding me right?! If anyone’s a traitor here, it’s you Hannie!” Joshua spewed the accusation viciously while he brought the pointer finger of one of his hands towards Jeonghan and tightly clenched his other fist.

“Guys stop this really isn-” You wanted them to quit while they were ahead.

You were starting to draw a crowd near you that wanted in on your business. Both boys were getting visibly more defensive and angry. You’d seen that look in both of their eyes before. You knew they were pushing each other’s buttons somehow to the brink of no return. You knew where it was all headed.

But once more, your pleas would go unheard as they continued.

“How the fuck am I the traitor?! I’m not the one who fucking abandoned his best friend without even having the balls to end things to her face!” Jeonghan maliciously growled.

You witnessed Joshua grit his teeth to keep from screaming and scaring you, “No, you’re just the one that fucked your best friend!”

At that point you had no clue what either male was talking about. Jeonghan had always told you that he knew as much about why Joshua left as you. And you sure as shit didn’t understand why Joshua thought your husband was the one that fucked him over. But the two sure sounded like they had more unfinished business than they let you in on.

“It’s not my fault you’re so damn thick skulled Shua! Besides, you’re the asshole that left! You can’t blame anyone for what happened afterwards but yourself!” Your husband borderline yelled in Josh’s face.

You definitely were starting to realize something else was going on. But you couldn’t really focus on that at that moment. All you could think about was how close their faces were getting and how white their knuckles were becoming.

Joshua let out a dry laugh that sounded more like a demon had voiced it than a human, “And you sure as shit took advantage of me being gone didn’t you?! You couldn’t even wait until the corpse of our friendship was cold huh?! I mean seriously Jeonghan, this is a new low even for your cheap shot throwing ass!”

And that was when your husband’s fist made contact with Joshua’s jaw, causing him to stumble and opening the sea of people surrounding them that didn’t want to get hit. Which meant there was no one there to keep him from falling backwards onto the ground.

You screamed when you saw Jeonghan lunge forward to continue the scramble on the ground.

It was a hot mess. First Jeonghan had punched Shua’s eye socket, then Shua flipped your husband over and returned the favor. And of course Jeonghan just had to continue hitting the younger boys sides from his point on the ground, but then that also meant Shua got angry and put his hands around the elders neck.

Then you don’t know what happened cause the next thing you knew both men were rolling around on the floor sending as many hits into the other as they possibly couple before some of the guys from the reunion, you couldn’t really say who, pulled them apart. Then it was up to you to start convincing the reunion coordinator to not press charges.

——

“I can’t believe you fucking hit me.” Joshua snarled, holding the bag of ice to the side of his face to bring down some of the swelling that was no doubt the source of some of his discomfort

Jeonghan snorted, “And I can’t believe you were ballsy enough to start choking me,” as he held his bag of ice up to his eye to hopefully help some of the bruising from getting worse.

The two of them had been sat outside on the curb being babysat by a couple of their old male classmates while you had been left to try to smooth things over inside the building.

“So,” Joshua broke the awkward silence that loomed between them, “How mad at us do you think she is?” He questioned, genuinely curious about whether or not he ever had a chance of you speaking to him again.

Jeonghan groaned as he mulled just how bad your reaction would be later over in his head, “Mad? Try pissed! She’s totally gonna kill me when we get home.”

Joshua chuckled lightly, quickly regretting the decision when he realized just how badly the move made his rib cage hurt, “Honestly, she’s probably gonna be happy you started hitting me.”

He hated to say it out loud. It was bad enough his words were more than likely true after everything that had happened, but saying it out loud, vocalizing that you probably hated his guts, hurt more than his freshly created wounds.

The elder of the two rolled his eyes at the statement and bit his bloody lip, “Shows what you know. I’m probably sleeping on the couch for a month Minimum!”

“Why though? If she hates me doesn’t that mean she’d be proud of you for hitting me?” Josh asked in a whisper, trying not to let his heartbreak show.

Jeonghan just swallowed thickly, “Why? Because I got into a full on fight at a reunion where I promised her I’d be on my best behavior. Because instead of using my words like an adult I used my fists, like an idiot-” he paused, almost not wanting his next words to come out of his mouth, “-But for the record, she doesn’t hate you. She was mad at you for leaving us without giving us the courtesy of knowing your real reason for leaving. But that doesn’t mean she hates you. I… I don’t think she could ever hate either of us.”

Now it was Joshua’s turn to not want to speak. He was still mad at himself for it all and how he handled it. He was still ashamed of it all and how it turned out.

But Jeonghan was right, the letter he had sent wasn’t his real reason for cutting contact, anyone with a brain could’ve seen that. Which means you definitely did see it. You deserved a real answer and, even if he could never say it to you out loud or to your delicate face, maybe someday Jeonghan could for him.

“That day at the bar, the day before the wedding when she came down stairs and ripped me away from you guys,” Joshua spoke as he tried to blink away the painful memory to keep it from resurfacing to the front of his mind. He didn’t want you to know he cried, “She told me… she told me that she was pregnant.”

Jeonghan let the bag of ice he had against his face fall onto his lap, “Wait? Are you saying you dropped us because you had to be a family man or some bullshit? Because I swear to god Shua-” He threatened, but his worries were quickly squashed.

“No… that’s not why,” Joshua halted him, nearly starting to shake from holding back a harsh sob, “At least… not really why.”

——

Joshua went on to explain that, while his fiancé had told him she was pregnant that day, she also told him that if he ever wanted to see his own child he had to stop talking to you as soon as the wedding was over.

She never liked you or that he was friends with you. She hated that he always put you above anyone and anything else. But she knew there was only one thing he’d ever put above you, and that would be his own kids.

‘My dad left pretty much right after I was born so I don’t really know,’ Shua had told you and Jeonghan one day in middle school after you had asked him where he was.

You had known that his mom raised him alone, but whenever the topic of his father arose, he’d change the subject.

In that moment, you found out why, ‘I’ll tell you what though,’ He held back a sniffle as you came and gave him a warm back hug to comfort him like you always did whenever he was having a rough time, ‘I’ll never do what my dad did to me to my own kids.’

He never even really liked her. For a while, he managed to trick himself into thinking she’d be a decent enough replacement for you, that he could fool himself into believing she was the next best thing to you. But she never was.

By the time he realized that, it was too late. By the time he was ready to tell you how he felt for you whether he thought you loved him back or not, he couldn’t do it. He was engaged to be married.

Even the day before his wedding as he sat at the bar stools with you and watched you laugh and giggle and smile, he was genuinely planning to cancel the whole wedding that night to ride off into the sunset with you.

But he soon found he couldn’t because his bride to be, who he was beginning to see as the spoiled entitled brat she really was, was pregnant.

Torn between the decision to either keep seeing you, the girl who he’d literally take a bullet for, and raising his own kid, he chose the kid.

He knew you’d be alright, even if it sucked and hurt everyone involved, he reasoned that you still had Jeonghan to make himself feel better.

He knew that if he stopped speaking with you, even if he was still allowed to speak with him, Jeonghan would stay by you and tell him to go fuck himself if he said he wanted to still be friends with him. So he had to cut the both of you out of his life.

He spent the last day he had with you trying to be as normal as he could when the reality was all he wanted to do was throw himself in your arms and die there everytime you came within hugging distance. In his mind, he might as well have since it felt like he was already a walking corpse.

You were with him from the start of the day to the end of it. You were his best man since you weren’t allowed to be part of the bridal party, a right he had to fight to keep through his fiancé’s objections. You’d been there for the start of his life, it made sense that you’d be there for the end of it too.

You helped him get ready, carefully helping him tie his tie and button his blazer all while he wished he could carefully bring your lips to his. You expertly kept his focus in memorizing his vows while he loosely tried to keep up, hoping you’d realize they were the words he wanted to say to you.

When his future bride walked forward down the aisle, he kept his site sideways on you. He noticed your teary eyes, probably from dreading having to deal with the woman he was marrying for what you assumed would be for the rest of your lives, and wanted so badly to comfort you in a time he needed comforting from you himself.

He couldn’t focus on his wife’s beauty that was enhanced with the best fillers and Botox money could buy that were forever and would always be visible. He was too mesmerized by your own natural beauty that would soon vanish before his eyes for what he knew would be forever.

Throughout the entire reception and dinner, he watched as you poured back shots with Jeonghan and longed for the days he was able to witness your drunken snorting giggles beside him.

Anytime he scanned the crowd, he witnessed your shared and carefree best friend try his damnedest to cheer you up by making fun of the stuck up in law family he had inherited.

All night he had to pretend he cared about his bride’s petty concerns and angry outburst when all he really cared about was the amount of times he saw you stepping out and coming back with tear stained cheeks.

Then, when the ceremony and reception were coming to a close and his now wife stared him and the clock down, he was finally able to ask you to dance. The last one he’d ever get with you. The last time he’d ever get to be near you.

He should’ve told you then and there what was going on. He should’ve let you down easy in person. But he couldn’t. You were trying so hard to see the bright side of things for him, he couldn’t break your heart.

When you started apologizing for being the reason she treated him so poorly, he should’ve explained everything so you knew it wasn’t your fault. But he couldn’t. He didn’t want his last happy moments with you to be tainted.

So instead, he held you close to his chest, hoping you could hear his heart beat only for you. He kept you talking, hoping he could memorize your voice and have it ingrained in his brain for all the times he’d long to hear it and you’d no longer be there. He swayed you side to side while you danced, trying to gain the courage to grab you by the hand and run away with you.

But he couldn’t. He had to give up someone who meant everything to him for someone who meant nothing to him.

So at the end of the night when everyone was seeing them off, when everyone was saying their temporary goodbyes, he said goodbye to you for good.

You gave him a hug and he wrapped his arms so tightly around you he was worried he had cut off your air supply.

He thanked you for all the help you had given him, not realizing he meant for the help you had given him during his entire duration of his existence.

You told him you loved him and that you were proud of him. So he told you he loved you too, once again not realizing the true meaning behind his words.

He gave you a final kiss to the top of your head, wanting more than anything for the action to say all the things he wish he could. Then he let you go.

He had his mom arrange to get all his stuff out of your shared apartment while he was on his honeymoon and knew you and Jeonghan would still be in France. He wanted to answer all your messages, he wanted to answer all your calls. But as soon as his wife found out about the spamming from the both of you, she made him change his number.

Joshua still didn’t want you to think he abandoned you without even telling you he wasn’t coming back. He planned on going to the apartment to tell you in person after he chickened out at the wedding, but he just… couldn’t.

How could he look you in the eye and say he ruined everyone’s lives by being an idiot? How could he tell you he had to choose someone he wished he’d left for you? How could he listen to you cry as he told you it would be the last time you’d ever see him? How could he be right in front of your beautiful face and be able to leave afterwards?

He just couldn’t do it. So he wrote the letter.

However, once his wife found out about it, she threatened to leave him if he sent it. Eventually, he managed to convince her that if he sent it, you’d never try to contact him again.

But her knowing meant he had to have her permission before he could actually send it out, meaning he couldn’t tell you the truth about why he wouldn’t be coming back like he wanted to.

He did his best to keep you from blaming yourself by offering an excuse of it being all his fault, but his wife made him add that he had outgrown you because she didn’t feel you’d ever truly leave the two of them alone if it didn’t show he didn’t want to be near you anymore.

He was told a few weeks later, just around the time she probably would’ve started to show, that his wife had miscarried. And he was devastated at the fact that he lost a child.

But he was more broken over the fact that he had to stay in an unhappy marriage for no reason because he had burned his bridges with both you and Jeonghan and she was all he had left.

Some years later during their divorce proceedings, he found out that she had made it all up. That there never was a real baby and that he had indeed given you up for nothing but an empty promise and an evil woman.

Joshua didn’t see a point in remarrying after that, why would he have? The only woman he ever wanted now assumed he didn’t want anything to do with her.

He didn’t have any kids either. Why have kids when the only woman he’d ever actually wanted them with was probably having them with someone else?

He told Jeonghan that he mostly spent his days drinking and working a job in a career he only went in because she made him change it to try and numb the loneliness in his life he had created. He told him the only reason he started to fight back with him was because he was hurting.

Just thinking you were happy with someone else was enough to, on a good day, make him want to ram his head through a garage door. But actually seeing you happy with someone else? Knowing it was Jeonghan you married instead of him? Knowing that you had Jeonghan’s kids instead of his? Knowing that he lost his chance to grow old with you and be happy to his best friend felt like a hot iron was shoved down his throat and out the other end.

“Yeah, I figured pal,” Jeonghan nodded, still taking in everything Joshua had told him.

Josh wiped the flowing tears from his face, “What do you mean you figured?”

Jeonghan let out an exhausted sigh and a dry chuckle as he reached in his pocket to pull out his phone, quickly unlocking it and heading to the photos in his phone, “You know, I wasn’t just trying to hurt your feelings when I said you were thick-skulled. Sounds like you were so concerned about hiding your own feelings for her, you never took notice that she had them for you too.”

And that’s when Jeonghan showed him a video from the day he proposed. It showed you in the older boy's car, doing your damnedest not to burst into tears as you explained to your now husband why you had to help with his proposal.

You spoke about how his happiness meant more to you than your own. How your heart was broken because he chose his fiancé but that it didn’t matter because he needed your help. Because he asked for your help. You had no clue who his future wife even was yet you were willing to lose everything if it meant she could be with him because you loved him.

Joshua felt sick to his stomach, no, it felt like his stomach was gonna come out of his body from the sheer repulsion he was feeling. You actually loved him. He could’ve been with you all this time but because he was so busy trying to find someone like you, he never saw you or your feelings for him.

A small part of him was thrilled to finally hear you say those three words after so many years of having been in love with you. He couldn’t help but let his body finally fall into broken wails as he began to cry into his hands, Jeonghan bringing one of his own to gently pat him on the back.

Because they both knew they now meant nothing. You were married to Jeonghan, the guy who actually stuck around and was there for you, with a family you built together as husband and wife.

He couldn’t confess his feelings to you and live happily ever after with you as he once could’ve. You were adults with responsibilities and people who relied on you now.

Joshua wanted to take it back. He wanted to take it all back. He should’ve never asked his ex wife out, he should’ve asked you out. He should’ve never proposed to his ex wife, he should’ve proposed to you. He should’ve never married her, he should’ve married you.

He should’ve had children and a life with you. He should’ve been the one who sees you first thing in the morning and got to kiss you goodnight. He should’ve told you how he felt when he had the chance.

“I-Is s-she at least h-happy n-now Jeonghan?” Shua quivered, barely able to hold back the body racking sobs long enough to speak.

He should’ve known you loved him too. All the times you sat and listened to him play awful guitar when he was first learning to play, all the times you’d stay on the phone for hours on end just to hear him rant about his day, all the late night study sessions you didn’t need but he so desperately did that you accompanied him on, he should’ve known.

“Yeah, buddy. She’s really really happy now,” Jeonghan assured him, feeling unbelievably sorry for his former friend who was still very obviously in love with the mother of his own children.

——

It took Joshua a long time to calm himself down, but luckily for him, you seemed to need just as much time trying to convince whoever was in charge not to press charges against them.

It also gave Jeonghan time to tell him some of the things that had gone on in the both of your lives since he’s last seen you.

For some reason, it made him feel better to know that you and Jeonghan grew closer when he left because of your shared grief and Jeonghan’s constant need to protect you.

You’d been married over a decade and, based on some of his stories, he had no doubt in his mind that Jeonghan was still making your life a living hell with his constant need to cause havoc.

It made things easier for him to know that Jeonghan was able to fulfill his wish of becoming a psychologist so you could be a stay at home mom and raise your children the way you always wanted to. You used to talk about wanting a boat load of children when you were growing up together and, even though you only ended up having two, he knew with them being half Jeonghan’s they must’ve kept your life busy enough to feel like you had more.

Knowing that Jeonghan made every Wednesday night date night for the both of you and took you to nice restaurants was helpful, it meant he treated you right. Listening to the pride in Jeonghan’s voice as he boasted about your children made his heart happy, it meant he was a good dad to your kids. Hearing Jeonghan talk about you like you were the sole reason the earth kept spinning gave him a lot of hope, it meant he loved you the way Joshua loved you.

“Hannie?!” You shouted as you rushed from the doors of your old high school, making your way to the both of them just as Jeonghan finished telling Joshua about how your 6 year old daughter was now refusing to go to sleep without tucking everyone in bed and kissing them goodnight herself, which apparently your 10 year old boy was not very fond of.

Both men turned around to face you, watching as you pulled your heels off your feet and ran through the front grass in a hurry, “Yes, love?” Jeonghan answered, nearly forgetting the events that took place earlier in the night and smiling.

“Okay I’m suuuper pissed at you right now so don’t try to be cute, but we have to go! Like right now! The sitter’s only paid up till 11pm and it’s 10:30pm!” You breathlessly shouted to him.

Joshua watched as pure panic drenched over Jeonghan within seconds, “Oh fuck!” He stood from his place on the cement and patted the younger boy’s back, “It was good seeing you again Shua. You gonna be good?” He urgently asked, clearly concerned for your children back home as you made your way to the both of them.

He laughed back, confusing you as you had no clue what had been going on with the two of them while they sat waiting for you, “Yeah, man. I’ll be okay. You guys go go!” He pretended to shuuu you both towards the cars before Jeonghan placed his arm out in front of you, stopping you as you tried to make your start to rush your car.

“Yeah love you are not running across the asphalt without shoes.” He insisted breaking his panicked father persona and falling into his adoring husband one.

“But Jeonghan-” you tried to argue, but you were met with resistance within an instance.

Jeonghan tsked his tongue and began crouching down enough for you to get on his back, “Not up for debate princess. Now say your goodbyes, hop on and let’s go! We got babies to see!”

You rolled your eyes at your husband’s need to be overdramatic but complied with his demand anyways, too exhausted with the night’s events to put up a fight, “Well even though you two suck and fought it really was good to see you again Shua, even if it was only for a little while,” you half smiled, your dimples still showing through your tiredness as you wrapped your arms around Jeonghan’s neck and brought your legs to his side, ready for him to take off and go.

You weren’t allowed to go just yet, at least, not until Jeonghan forced your heels out of your hand so he could carry them himself, much to your fake annoyance.

And just like that, Joshua watched as the both of you ran off into the parking lot of your old high school with you scolding him about being ridiculous and Jeonghan making conceded compliments about himself.

Seeing the both of you interact together, even though you were complaining about your husband and Jeonghan was being… well, Jeonghan, gave Joshua comfort, it meant you both loved each other very much. And even though he’d never get you to himself now, at least he knew you were in the best hands he could’ve ever hoped for.

(Last Edited: 6/4/23)

[blorbocedes]

sentient best boy RB18 👉👈 for the worms in my brain

1. made for Max. like, adjusted and invented to fit Max perfectly. A little bit possessive. Might've tried to kill Liam Lawson when he had to drive for FP1 because it's not Max and that's wrong. He loves Max. Has a bit of a praise kink to be told he's been simply lovely to drive today.

2. Much like Max, is a bit opinionated. Somedays your car doesn't behave, has opinions on tyre strategy. Sometimes will make mediums last 40 laps, other times will DNF the first 3 races. Max had to learn to see past the unpredictable, prickly exterior and figure out how to maximise the most out of him... they had to trust each other and come together to understand the common goal of winning the championship. Loves overtaking and being wet 😏

3. A bit of a ship of Theseus situation. If your front wing and floor and engines can all be switched out, piece by piece, then what makes the RB18... itself? He doesn't know or care because he hasn't taken Intro to Philosophy 101

4. Bisexual like bi king Max. Had a romance going with the F1-75... she was fearless and crazier than him (had a coke habit) and god help anyone who disrespected his queen. She could not only keep up with him but was faster, which drove Mr RB18 nuts. They'd laugh about the W-13, the runt of the great Mercedes family. But then after summer break... she was different. Subdued. Sluggish. More than a minute behind. There were rumours swirling she went to rehab for her coke habit, and they lobotomised her 😔

5. [Redacted for Bella's birthday] 😈🥰🔞

[soylent-crocodile]

Vulcan (Race)

(Saavik by DennisBudd)

(Vulcans are the obvious Star Trek race to convert, and so the next one after andorians. If you can guess the third one I'm converting you win no prize because it is also very obvious, I think. So much ink has been spilled on vulcan biology, although almost all of it can be summed up by "constitution bonus", and the rest makes me wonder how the hell they can produce viable offspring with humans. Did you know vulcans have copper-based blood? Wild.)

Vulcans are elflike humanoids with mysterious origins that developed on a desert planet, where they waged constant wars of conquest and revenge. With time, however, they learned to control their emotions through careful meditation and philosophy- although this did not stop them from feeling emotions, simply from acting on them. Today, they rely on logic to guide their actions, and are known as brilliant scholars and tacticians. 

Vulcans have numerous adaptations to their dry environment, including needing less water than humans, an efficient metabolism, and a membrane in their eye protecting it from sand. Adult vulcans undergo a hormonal change known as pon farr every seven years, where they experience heightened aggression and lust to the point of possibly dying if these urges go unfulfilled. This is considered a great embarrassment for their modern society.

Ability Scores: Vulcans are a logical and hardy people, though also stoic and impersonal. They get a +2 bonus to Intelligence and Constitution, but a -2 penalty to Charisma.

Medium: Vulcans are medium creatures that get no bonuses or penalties based on size.

Speed: Vulcans have a base speed of 30ft.

Languages: Vulcans start knowing Vulcan and Common. Vulcans with high intelligence scores may choose from Elvish, Terran, Andorian, Tellarite, and Aklo as starting langauges.

Practiced Stoicism: When saving against emotion effects, Vulcans may roll twice and take the greater roll. They must do this before finding out the results of the roll.

Deep Passions: When receiving a morale bonus of any kind, Vulcans increase the bonus gained by 1. The same is true of penalties inflicted by emotion effects.

Mind Meld: As a full-round action, a vulcan can touch a willing creature and link their minds. This allows them to share up to 1 minute’s worth of emotions and memories. If one subject of the mind meld is under a harmful mind-affecting effect, however, the other subject must make a save as though targeted by the effect.

[zeldahime]

Highway to Pail Bonus #2

[Day 1] [Prev] [Next] @do-it-with-style-events

Bonus prompt 2: You had me at Merlot.

Keanu Hawke Harrison-Montoya, known to his friends as Halcón or Hal and to his coworkers and customers as Harry, hadn't exactly dreamed of giving wine tours in Sonoma Valley when he was a kid, but it paid okay and you met interesting people. Once some actor from like Ireland or something had been on one of his tours with his wife and oldest kid, and his sister had called him a couple days later to ask if he'd seen them, because the kid was her favorite character on the new Game of Thrones. Not exactly Johnny Depp levels of fame, but they'd been pretty nice and Brit was impressed.

Unfortunately, interesting does not always mean nice. Two of the customers on today's tour were both interesting and irritating as hell. He could tell already that by the time he got home to Pancho, he just was not going to have it in him to do date night, Wednesday or not. Maybe he'd be cool with just cuddling on the couch and watching some dumb reality TV.

The two guys were both middle-age and English and obviously loaded, but otherwise they physically were the opposite of each other in every way, like they'd been designed to be The Odd Couple in a kid's show. One looked like if the Easter Bunny was a gay professor, and the other like the former frontman in a broken-up Clash cover band who hadn't gotten a new personality yet. They argued with each other at the back of the pack like they were either: a) about to get divorced, or b) had never believed in marriage philosophically but nevertheless intended to be in one another's pockets for the next fifty years and die within five minutes of each other so they could continue arguing at the pearly gates. He would not have been surprised if one of them was an anarchist, although based on the boyfriends and girlfriends Pancho's cousins usually brought home, he figured it'd be Easter Bunny rather than Rocker. Every tight-laced looking one talked about the fine points of German philosophy and schemes they had to redistribute wealth to third-world countries and every punk-looking one introduced him to a new "Viking" rune he'd google later and find out was a Nazi symbol. (Desirée was not very good at picking boyfriends.)

It had been more than half an hour since Hal had begun this tour, and despite Easter Bunny saying several times "do be quiet, Crowley" and Rocker saying "shut up and listen, angel" just as often, neither of them had actually stopped talking that entire time. They were quiet, was the worst part, clearly trying to be polite to the other guests by keeping their conversation down, but the whispers were much more distracting than if they'd just talked at a normal conversational level and harder for Hal to call them out on.

His smile was starting to become plastic as they finally hit the first wine break and, hopefully, a break from the English couple's half-heard conversation. He poured the wine for his dozen guests and explained how wine-tasting worked for any newbies. Like he always did, he asked for the guests to first sniff the wine, see if it reminded them of anything. All but one obediently copied him, and most had the look of people who didn't smell anything in particular but didn't want to say so and look stupid; totally normal. Rocker, however, stuck his tongue into the glass, prompting Easter Bunny to nudge him and whisper "do try to act like a human, my dear," and Rocker, at a normal conversational volume, said "Merlot with notes of tea, angel, you'll like it for sure."

"Notes of tea! Very keen nose! That'll be the tannins," Hal said cheerfully, hoping to remind them that there were ten other guests plus him on this tour. "Anyone else smell anything?"

Easter Bunny at least had the grace to look a bit embarrassed. "Thank you, er," he squinted at his nametag, "Harry," presumably on behalf of Rocker, who just smirked and whispered something in what Hal thought was French. Hal assumed it was a Harry Potter joke, because it always was. He ignored them and smiled at the rest of the group.

A round of silent, politely confused faces stared back at him. "Time to taste!" he announced, modeling taking just one sip from his glass. The Englishmen, he noticed, drank their whole sample.

Christ alive. If these two were this annoying sober, he was not going to have fun dealing with them drunk.

Author's note:

I don't know a damn thing about wine, but I do know a bit about being an underpaid tour guide, and Air Conditioning would be the absolute worst. At least they'd tip well. All knowledge of wine comes from the Wikipedia article about Merlot.

Shout out to David, Georgia, and Ty Tennant in paragraph 1. Johnny Depp is mentioned because I read once that the studio had wanted to cast him as Crowley in the never-made movie, and also because he's the most famous person I didn't quite meet while living in a tourist town.

Hal is named after Keanu Reeves and Tony Hawke, and I figured he's probably about my age. Halcón is just Spanish for Hawk. I did Google to make sure it's not accidentally offensive or funny in some dialect like how Concha* can be, and some Mexican reality TV star is being called that because he's got an aquiline nose, so I think we're solid for California at the very least. If it is accidentally funny please let me know! I also liked how you could arguably get Hal from Harrison, via Harrison -> Harry -> misattribution of Harry to Henry -> Hal. Why does Hal come from Henry? Because English is weird.

*Concha means seashell and is a regular woman's name in Spain, a pastry in Mexico, and slang for vagina in Argentina.

[only-lonely-stars]

Hair As Gold As Straw (Chapter 1 - Yearning for Freedom)

[Prologue] // [Chapter 1 of 9 - you are here!] // [Chapter 2 of 9] – (FFN) (AO3)

Part of the @ninjago-fairy-tale-au!

Summary:

Once upon a time, Princess Vania of Shintaro lived in an ivory castle in an ivory city. Her father, King Vangelis, kept her safe in her tower, where no one could hurt her and she could not hurt herself... until the day when she ran away. A Colania Snow White retelling.

Chapter summary:

Princess Vania, knowing only her gilded cage, begins to explore... and to dream of adventure.

Princess Vania of Shintaro lived in beautiful ignorance in her ivory kingdom. Servants and guards waited on her, and her people showered her with love. She was given accolades and taught all the lovely things of the world– literature, poetry, music, theater. She was educated in the highest manner, too, with great levels of mathematics and philosophy. She lived as all would dream to.

However, Vania found herself continuously restless. Despite all the opportunity availed to her, she found herself awash in boredom. Life had no meaning; she could not leave Shintaro, no matter how she wished. She was a princess, shut away– forced to live in beauty, yet hidden from all the smaller things in life. Even her people's gift of flight was denied to her, for fear that she might hurt herself. She only had access to her wings when she was allowed, and never freely.

Vania dreamed of freedom and of open skies, but most of all, of adventure. When she was a child, she asked her father if she would be allowed to leave Shintaro one day.

"My child," the king answered, "one day in the future, when it is possible to assure that you will always be safe no matter how far you go, you may explore to your heart's content, but not today. You are not old enough, yet."

Such was his continual answer: "someday when you are older, but not today."

-----

When Vania was seven years old, she snuck out of her bedroom late at night. It was the night before her eighth birthday, and she was unable to sleep. She took her dolls and toys into the throne room of the castle to play in the moonlight, pretending to be queen.

As she played, she did not see a dark-skinned creature approach her. It touched her shoulder, and she cried out in fear. When she turned, she saw it running away to behind a column, where she could not see it. After a minute, it peeked its head out, looking to see if the coast was clear. Vania was frozen.

After a few minutes, she approached the creature. "Hello?" The creature shied away, and she pressed, "who are you?"

It stepped out into view, showing off its short stature and purple skin. Its ears were pointy, like Vania's, but they were tilted back and already pierced. It wore simple, ragged clothing.

"I am Gleck."

"Hello, Gleck," Vania said. "I am Vania."

"Hello," it said. It fidgeted with a locket necklace that it wore.

"Are you okay?" Vania asked the creature, and it nodded. "Why are you here? Do you not have a home?"

The creature shook its head. "I have a home, but we are forbidden from coming up to the surface." It shied away again, like it wanted to run.

"To the surface? Do you live underground?" Vania asked it.

"Yes. You live on the surface?"

"Yes." Vania hugged her doll tightly to herself. "It's my birthday."

"What is a birthday?" Gleck asked.

"I was born today."

"You do not look like a baby."

Vania laughed. "No, I was born today, eight years ago."

Gleck paused. "I was also born eight years ago, but I don't know the day." He seemed to relax.

"You don't know your birthday?" He shook his head, and Vania frowned. "That sounds awful."

"We do not have 'birthdays,'" Gleck said.

"Do you want to share?" Vania asked. She held out her doll. "Today can be your birthday, too."

Gleck took the doll hesitantly. "Is it a good thing?"

"Yes!" Vania said. "It is good."

"...Okay." Gleck smiled. "Today can be my birthday, too."

Vania and Gleck played for a while that night, until the sun came peeking over the horizon. He disappeared from the Castle, and Vania did not see him for several days. When he next appeared, they played again, and for several years they made a habit of it. However, it did not last.

One fateful night, Gleck came to visit Vania in her room. However, not more than a few minutes later, her father's knock came at the door, and he entered and saw Gleck.

When King Vangelis saw the creature, he was full of rage. He cast the creature out of the castle, telling him never to return. Vania was likewise told never to speak to him again, if he ever came back. A new guard named Hailmar was posted at her door, and she was unable to ever leave at night again. She and Gleck were separated on that day, and she lost her closest friend forever. As the winter snows began to fall, loneliness was not far behind.

-----

Over the years, Vania's restrictions became ever tighter. She left the castle less and less, always being told that it was not safe outside Shintaro. Her father became distant, being wrapped up in work and obligations. The seasons turned, and even the pure white snow that fell on the city did not bring her comfort, like it had before.

One of the few shining lights in Vania's life was her personal guard, Hailmar. He was a young man, with ivory skin like all Shintarans (although less so than Vania) and rich brown hair that showed itself when he rarely took off his helmet. Hailmar made himself Vania's friend, and as she grew up, he took care of her needs and protected her. Many a time, he would play her games with her, and he would tell stories about the outside world.

Vania's favorite of Hailmar's stories was one he told her about the outside world: Ninjago. He spoke of an order of ancient knights, ninja, and samurai, trained in their respective arts. They were Ninjago's protectors for centuries, guarding the people from evils of all manners. Some of them rode dragons, or harnessed the powers of the elements, but all were honorable and lovers of peace. However, their order was lost a long time ago, and memory of them was slipping away as they became legend.

Vania adored hearing about the knights. When she would play with her dolls, she would pretend that they were these protectors, and she told and retold herself their stories. As she grew older, her dreams of them shifted from faraway protectors to adventurers, and she dreamed of going on one. She would meet a knight who would sweep her off her feet, and together they would ride a dragon to unknown worlds, full of adventure and danger.

-----

One day when she was sixteen, Vania asked her father again when she might be able to leave Shintaro and visit Ninjago. Unbeknownst to her, that day her father had flown into a terrible rage after receiving unfavorable news, and he assailed her with it, speaking terrible things. He shouted and lectured, telling her about how she was ungrateful for everything he provided for her. He sent her to her room, stationing Hailmar outside with the express orders not to let her leave for any reason until he came back.

Vania cried for hours in her room, unable to compose herself. Her father, never before treating her this way, had shocked her, and she was unable to cope.

After she regained her composure and reconstituted herself, it was evening. However, suppertime came and went, and she was left undisturbed. She asked Hailmar when supper might be, and he answered that he had orders not to let her out until her father came back. She went to bed hungry that night.

When morning came the next day, Vania was still undisturbed. The day passed with her remaining inside her bedroom. At some point, another person had come to her door, and she burst out hoping it was her father, but it was only Hailmar being relieved of duty by another guard, betraying her loneliness for his own needs. She excused herself back to her room, and it for many hours she waited for Hailmar to return, eventually falling asleep to fitful dreams.

Vania awoke in the middle of the night to being shaken. She saw Hailmar, standing above her with a bag.

"Your Highness, you must wake up!"

"Hailmar?" Vania asked. "It is the middle of the night. Has my father returned?"

"No," he said. "Your father has shut himself in his room for all but meals, saying you are unwell. He intends only to return when he receives news that you have begged for forgiveness, to teach you a lesson. You must leave."

Vania got up, filled with dread. "What? My father would not do that."

"He already is, Highness." Hailmar gave her the bag. "Dress yourself in your most practical clothes, and prepare yourself. You must leave the castle."

"Where will I go?" she asked. "I know nothing about Shintaro, or Ninjago for that matter!"

"You will find somewhere, I am sure. Be swift." Hailmar put the bag on her bed and left the room, taking the post in front of her door.

Vania dressed herself quickly, her mind racing. She looked in the bag to see some travel essentials; a knife, rope, a blanket, a torch, and food and water enough for several days. Once she was ready, she came out to see Hailmar.

"Am I to eat this food now?" she asked.

"No," he said. "We will take a detour through the kitchens, and then will go out through the gardens. There is a side door there, near the mines' grate."

After Vania had eaten her fill, he escorted her to the gardens. After saying farewell, Hailmar went back to take his position in front of her bedroom door. He would trick her father, telling him that she had run away in the night. Meanwhile, she would be safely away where he could not find her.

Vania looked between the door and the grate. Where would she go? She had met Gleck all those years ago, and although everyone told her that she had imagined him she knew that he was real. On the other hand, she could go into the city, and look for a compassionate family to keep her safe. She could also leave Shintaro for Ninjago, and see if she could find the knights the stories spoke of if they were real. However, nothing seemed as familiar as Gleck, and she had missed him sorely for years…

After a few minutes of deliberation, she stepped to the grate. It came off with a little bit of tugging, and once it gave way she snuck into the tunnels below the castle.

The tunnels were cold, seeping into Vania's bones. The darkness was immense, lit only by the torch she carried. Moisture dripped from the ceiling, and the rocks cast menacing shadows, but she continued on. Eventually, she came to a great cavern, lit by stalactites that were covered in bioluminscent moss. Ladders were leaning against them, and small purple creatures were scraping the moss into buckets. They chattered amongst themselves, until one of them spotted Vania and fell off his ladder. She gasped.

"Are you okay?"

The creature stared at her and pointed. "A Shintaran! They have invaded the caves!"

"No!" she protested. "I'm not here to hurt you!" She watched it get up. "I know what you are."

"You do, do you?" another asked. "You know of the Geckles? What kind of Shintaran are you?"

"I used to know one of you," she said. "His name was Gleck."

The creatures muttered amongst themselves, and one of them came up to her. "Who are you?"

"Prin- Vania. My name is Vania."

"Very well, Vania," it said. "I am Grendle. We will take you to the Geckle Parliament so you may state your business… unless you are one of the Munce?"

"What's a Munce?" Vania asked. The creatures began muttering again, but Grendle held up his hand.

"Silence!" He turned to Vania. "Very well. Come with us."

Vania followed Grendle and the other Geckles through the caverns. The air became colder and colder, and she shivered. Eventually, they came to a great pair of doors, which towered over all of them. Vania stared up at them, and she felt small, already regretting leaving home for this cold, unwelcoming world.

Grendle knocked on the doors. "A stranger has come into the caverns and must come before the Parliament!" he cried.

"Bring him in!" another voice called from inside.

The doors creaked open, and the other two Geckles took Vania's arms, pulling her inside. Once she entered, doors slammed shut behind them.

[stoicoftheday]

Followers by Nature?

Ever noticed how we just follow orders without question? Recently at the airport, our flight was delayed for hours, and not a single person questioned it. It’s pathetic that sometimes we act like sheep, programmed to follow. But why is that? Psychologists suggests that it feels safer to hide in the herd than to stand out. It’s a survival mechanism. We’re also molded by our education and laws…

[lunarbard]

After a 6 hour download due to bad internet, I finally got around to playing the Baldur's Gate 3 epilogue. And it feels like yet another piece of a game that fails to be more than the sum of its parts.

I'm a fan of Larian studios - DOS2 is one of my favorite games - and I appreciate how much work went into Baldur's Gate 3. I also ran seven playthroughs in that first release month; I've probably run through that game more than 90% of its players today, let alone given the timeframe. But BG3 had already been the biggest push for me to move away from D&D 5e in my tabletop games just from the Early Access, and I went into the release knowing I would find the combat rather insufferable (especially after a month or so of playing Wildermyth, which probably has my favorite simple tactical combat in a crpg I've played). And the application of skills in general. But honestly the cinematics / story delivery (and promise of consequences later) in EA had me wanting to see the rest of the game.

And the game does have its moments: Karlach's monologue & Dark Urge refusing their blood are fantastic. But those are all that really stood out in their entirety,

I stopped playing the game because the seventh playthrough was my tactician run for the last achievement at the time, and ironically it was the first time I actually got Dark Urge's special good ending (my four other Dark Urge runs I went to Avernus with Karlach). And the game gives this little somber note of reflection for Dark Urge, and it's an incredible moment that gives more closure for the whole game than the default endings and epilogue combined.

Then it's rather strangled the moment you reflect on the rest of the game, because the game doesn't allow itself much space to breathe. And it's all the tadpoles' fault.

If there's one thing missing from BG3 (which is being generous), it's adventure. The tadpoles have a lot of game design uses, but perhaps their largest impact is how they allow the game to yoink you on a single track towards its conclusion. So exploration is limited, and typically just rewards you with the equivalent of a pile of necrotic needles & a blighted shambling mound digesting you (all with a 30 perception check required to not be surprised, mind you). Or you accidentally skip half an act because you wandered into a tomb.

But I digress on why Act 2 is a wad of melting glue desperately trying to bridge the gap between the two actual halves of the game.

DOS2 and BG3 are both built out of wide area maps set in linear chains. There seems to be this philosophy that single, completely interconnected maps are just better than traveling between smaller areas via a world map even when those maps make the story make less sense, like the goblin camp being a ~10 minute walk from the grove down a straight road.

I want you to imagine what Act 1` might look like if the map was instead properly split up into distinct locations across an overworld map:

Your arrival in the grove is timed with the goblins attacking Waukeen's Rest; if you look through the telescope, you see their banners marching in that direction.

That gives you a marker on your world map to travel to, which takes a few hours overland and you find the place burning after the raid and can help the people there.

Here you could get two leads: the Zhentarim sending you down the road to the toll post to check on their shipment (with the flind & gnolls being a set encounter when trying to reach there) and tracks that lead to the blighted village.

In the blighted village you encounter some goblins, get the location of the goblin camp (likely from a dead or alive goblin), and head to that marker to find the warband returned from the inn and celebrating. (or maybe you find information on the Selunites here, and follow the indications of a Selunite temple in hopes of finding a healer, only to find it ruined with goblins in it).

Area divisions - whether short loading zones in old Monster Hunter or a dotted line for travel across a world map - give a ton of space to state or imply time & distance without needing to accurately render them. Pathfinder: Kingmaker did a great job of also throwing in some party banter for companions when you rested, which, with a good budget, could do wonders for providing those little companion interactions a good chunk of bg3 players appear to crave.

Those are some of the breathing moments the game needed. Little bits of connection, reflection, and companionship. I want more small moments for Dark Urge where you get to have them think on their affliction - really think! not "kick cat: Yes / no / normal dialogue." I want more urges that are actually urges and you have to resist, or actively save someone, and build this narrative anywhere other than your head because the game treats the Dark Urge as "here's a really evil option. You're good for not picking it."

Which sums up 95% of the game's "moral" choices too.

The one thing BG3 does better than any crpg I've played is its graphics, cinematics, and letting you make an explicitly trans character.

And I think that's why the epilogue felt so flat to me. You walk around and talk to people, then watch everyone give a toast. For all I've come to dread the thought of playing this game, I would pay a good amount to get an epilogue that's like DOS2, but with cinematics instead of character art.

[eowynn-bagels]

The Healthy Masculinity of Waymond Wang in Everything Everywhere All At Once

Dressed in an immaculate business suit and armed with a cigarette, in a scene reminiscent of Wong Kar-wai’s masterpiece “In the Mood for Love”, Ke Huy Quan delivers the best performance of 2022, and a striking refusal of the hyper-masculine action heroes of today.

We jump across 4 separate universes. The IRS universe, where the forces of the Alphaverse and Evelyn clash, whilst Waymond begs Evelyn to be kind. The Movie Star universe, where Businessman Waymond rejects Evelyn even after years apart. The Laundromat Universe, where the Wangs are about to lose their Laundromat due to tax errors, and The Bagel Universe, where Jobu Tupaki / Joy nearly convinces Evelyn to join her in entering the bagel. 

In the IRS universe, she stabs Waymond, and in the Bagel universe, she almost joins Jobu Tupaki in stepping into the bagel, but is distracted and ultimately swayed by IRS universe Waymond’s plea to be kind and for everyone to stop fighting. 

In the Laundromat universe, Waymond manages to convince their tax agent Deirdre to give them another day. We are treated to a montage of Waymond and Evelyn’s happiest memories throughout the years, and finally in the Movie Star universe, businessman Waymond walks away, but turns around and says in Cantonese what is potentially the most romantic line in a movie ever:

“So, even though you have broken my heart again, I wanted to say; in another life, I would’ve really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.”

We switch back to the Laundromat universe, where Waymond is cleaning up the mess caused by Evelyn smashing a window, humming along to a song. Evelyn stands up and hugs him, as Son Lux’s score crescendos. The broom Waymond holds clatters to the floor. A second montage, this time just of Waymond, is intercut with their embrace, showing Waymond crying to (presumably) a movie, holding a potted plant, smiling while shaking hands and putting googly eyes on a red lantern. 

Finally, we cut back to the IRS universe where Evelyn and Waymond make up, crying and laughing together whilst kaleidoscopic colours circle their faces, and Evelyn releases her balled-up fist, symbolising her transition towards Waymond’s pacifist philosophy.

This emotional, dramatic sequence takes place over just five minutes, but is the climax of Waymond and Evelyn’s relationship and arc over the course of the movie. There are four moments that specifically matter in this scene.

1. You think I’m weak, don’t you?

“You think I’m weak, don’t you?”

In this speech, Businessman Waymond addresses not just Evelyn, but the audience. The line, You think I’m weak, don’t you? is as much spoken to Evelyn as it is to the audience. Throughout the film, Waymond is characterised weak, naïve, someone being blown around by life. He is the opposite of masculine, and avoids conflict as much as possible. 

Before this scene, the audience expects Waymond to turn into some kind of action hero. Most movies would take that path, because that’s the expectation of audiences, for the final battle to be some sort of flashy, CGI-laden sequence, with epic music. Waymond would become more like Alphaverse Waymond, and kick butt. Everything Everywhere All At Once is not the type of movie to go down that path. Instead, we are treated to the next monologue of Waymond. 

2. This Is How I Fight

“When I choose to see the good side of things, I’m not being naïve. It is strategic and necessary. It’s how I learned to survive through everything. I know you see yourself as a fighter. Well, I see myself as one too. This is how I fight.”

It's in this scene where the audience realises that they are being shown Evelyn's point of view of Waymond being weak. However, Businessman Waymond’s philosophy is the same as IRS and Laundromat Waymonds’, that he chooses to see the good side of things because he believes it is strategic and necessary, and because of that he could solve problems that she never could. 

Waymond is not weak because he is not masculine. He is strong because he chooses to not be the expectation of masculinity, he chooses pacifism above fighting and kung fu. He specifically rebutts the audience’s expectations of what he will become by the end of the film with metacommentary directed to hyper-masculinity in blockbusters.

3. Please, be kind

“Please, can we just stop fighting? I know you’re all fighting because you’re scared and confused. I’m confused too. All day, I don’t know what the heck is going on. But, somehow, this feels like it’s all my fault... The only thing I do know is that we have to be kind. Be kind, especially when we don’t know what’s going on.”

This next monologue is back in the IRS universe. The second part of Waymond’s philosophy is clearly shown here. All of us should choose kind, especially when we don’t know what’s going on. Waymond does not know what’s going on, none of them throughout the multiverses do, and yet he gives the thesis statement of the film that will define its second climax with Jobu Tupaki. To be kind. 

It is because of Waymond that Jobu Tupaki is saved, not through kung fu and action scenes, but through speaking from the heart and being kind. Sure, there’s still “action”, but in the form of fighting with kindness. 

4. Laundry and Taxes and a Million Tears

“In another life, I would’ve really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.”

I saw Everything Everywhere on opening night. When we reached this scene, this line, you could collectively hear the entire theatre sobbing in their seats. This line is juxtaposed with Laundromat universe Waymond sweeping the laundromat, humming to himself. In every universe, Evelyn is shown her husband’s philosophy, and his simple wish to be kind and live a simple life. 

This works so well because Businessman Waymond is, in Evelyn’s eyes, so much better off than IRS and Laundromat Waymond. But, by saying that all he wanted would be to do laundry and taxes with her, the exact thing that makes Evelyn miserable and wishing for another life, changes Evelyn’s perspective. 

Alphaverse Waymond tells her that Laundromat and IRS Evelyn’s universe is the “worst” universe because she has not found success. However, all the other Waymonds prove her wrong. In the IRS and Laundromat universes, they may not be successful, but they are happy. And to Waymond, that’s all that matters.

5. Googly Eyes, Potted Plants and Sad Movies

Well, I lied. There’s one last part. This montage of Waymond crying to a sad movie, saying sorry whilst holding a potted plant, and putting googly eyes on a red lantern is the final nail in the coffin of audiences expectations for this to be a “normal” blockbuster action movie.

In this, Waymond does two things that are not characteristically masculine. Firstly, crying. Crying isn’t considered masculine by many, and if you’re a guy, and you cry, you’re labelled weak. Secondly, saying sorry. We don’t know the context around this scene, but we don’t need to. Once again, saying sorry isn’t considered masculine, and, again, it’s considered a weakness by most. To admit that you were wrong and that you are sorry. 

But, because of how Waymond has been characterised in the last 5 minutes, the audience realises along with Evelyn that Waymond is not weak for crying or apologising. It’s just his version of quiet masculinity. 

Why Waymond Matters

In another universe, Everything Everywhere All At Once is not as good. By the end of the movie, the lovable but naïve Waymond has become more akin to his Alphaverse counterpart - a badass, ass-kicking, kung-fu superstar. A epitome of masculinity. Jobu Tupaki is defeated and the day is saved. Waymond and Evelyn get back together on the basis that they are now both badass. In this universe, Everything Everywhere All At Once is praised for its visuals and humour, but criticised for being marvel-like. It recoups its budget at the box office, but does not make more than $30 million. 

Thankfully, we live in the universe where Everything Everywhere All At Once held the 1st place spot on Letterboxd for a day or two and remains in the top 15 with a solid 4.5 star score. It is universally praised and expected to sweep the Oscars. What’s the difference between the Everything Everywhere of that alternate universe and ours? Waymond Wang’s masculinity.

Without it, we cannot have the immensely satisfying character arc of Evelyn as she adopts Waymond’s pacifist philosophy and fights with kindness. We can’t have Jobu Tupaki brought back through kindness. And, most importantly of all, we can’t have that 5 minute sequence establishing Waymond as one of the best written characters of 2022. Everything Everywhere All At Once’s success is wholly dependent on Waymond and his unique philosophy.

Furthermore, it also matters to film as a whole. By featuring front and centre a male character in an action movie no less, with a pacifist philosophy and a masculinity unlike anything else in theatres right now, it sends an important message to everyone watching: This is healthy masculinity. 

In this day and age, where scam artists like Andrew Tate promote toxic masculinity, and find an audience using the same techniques as those who came before him, like Elon Musk and Ben Shapiro. Tate surrounds himself with a near cult-like following of teenage boys who are easily influenced and have fragile masculinities, and gives them something to blame and a cause to fight for.

Waymond Wang is a refutation of the hateful philosophies of Andrew Tate, and probably the most important character for influenceable teenage boys to see on screen right now. That’s why Waymond is so important. 

Final Rating: 100/100 - Film of the Year

[hiphopncountrychick]

"Karam": KSHMR's Latest Album is the Best Project in Desi Hip Hop

When global EDM, Trap & Bass pioneer KSHMR, born Niles Hollowell-Dhar, announced his the most anticipated debut Desi hip hop album ‘Karam’, which he took almost 2 years to complete and it breathed fresh air into India’s thriving Hip-Hop scene. While millions of KSHMR’s avid listeners see his album as the biggest rap album of the year in India, for many artists and record producers, ‘Karam’ is the much-needed cultural push which might go down as one of the best Hip-Hop albums in history.

In ever-growing Indian Desi Hip-Hop scene, where every beat tells a story and every rhyme narrates an experience, KSHMR dropped his the most anticipated Desi Hip-Hop album "Karam" on November 3rd, 2023. And I have to say this is not just a musical creation; it's a testament to the enduring power of hip-hop when one SuperProducer wielded with the artists in the scene along with some new and upcoming thriving talented faces for a story to tell.

KSHMR collaborated with many artists those who are the OG faces of DHH like Ikka, Raftaar and Krsna alongwith some new and fresh heavyweight talents brewing up in today's scene like a morning Coffee as such Rawal, HanumanKind and only recurring artist from this album Yashraj who has 3 features in album.

This album is not just a collection of beats; it's a sonic odyssey that navigates like a classic Bollywood crime drama movie from the 90s. Let's embark on a detailed review and breakdown of this masterpiece.

The Prelude: Setting the Movie Tone for an album

"Karam" isn't an album you merely listen to; it's an experience that begins with the very first beat. The album opens a portal into KSHMR's creative movie, where each track is a distinct scene. The tone is set, and the listener is invited into a sonic movie journey that begins with some deep philosophy.

The cover art: The Infinite Ouroboros

"Karam" album Cover Art

The album cover art of "Karam" is simplistic but it hits the mark. It is perfecty alleigned with name, theme and plot of an album. The whole album talks about the law of karma. In simple words, "The deeds(Karam) you do will turn around and come back to you". This cover art is inspired by one ancient Symbol called "Ouroboros", a circular symbol that depicts a snake or dragon devouring its own tail and that is used especially to represent the eternal cycle of destruction and rebirth.

The Ouroboros

The Infinite Ouroboros

Here In this art too, you can see a raging snake like figure eating its own tail in anger and hunger, but here making an infinity symbol instead of a circular representing "The Infinite Ouroboros". Which explains that Karma is an infinite loop. If I'd have to explain this with an example then you can suppose if someone did something bad and hurtful to you, you'll do the same to them, by that, they will do even worse to you and you'll do even worse to them, and this cycle will go on and on and will create an infinite loop of Karma. Remember this example because this same thing happened in the album twice on two different occasions. Colour scheme used in the cover is dark and hauntingly red which also support the plot of the album that you will be experienced, and it also represents that your Karma will always Haunt you no matter what.

This Album is spans for more than 50 minutes. It has totally 24 tracks, 10 Interludes and 14 songs. Now let's dive deep into the album and explore every songs and Interludes with the story of an album itself.

1. The Beginning - Interlude

Album opens with our protagonist as a kid who has an alcoholic and abusive father physically abusing his mother. When he tries to confront him, his father forced to get him out of his home along with his mother. Now that he's homeless, one thing he does that to start aspiring and dreaming for getting out this poor circumstances. Where, the first song of this album "dream"comes into play.

2. Dream (feat. Ikka & Karra)

This is the perfect opening track for the album. It's an upbeat and inspiring song about the power of dreams. The lyrics are simple but effective, and the beat is catchy and uplifting.

In this song, the protagonist is wandering in streets of Mumbai having one dream in his eye that he wants to own this city no matter what situations he has to go through.

Ikka penned his very strong, highly aspiring and gangster vibe giving two verses with impeccable flows, witty rhyme schemes and some awesome references. He talked about being self motivated and driven by dream so blindy that he's not seeing whatever he's doing it's good or bad.

3. The plan - interlude

Our protagonist seems frustrated and exhausted from his low life and decided to do something big, so he planned a robbery with his brother in arms and setting a stage for upcoming song "Bhussi".

4. Bhussi (feat. Seedhe Maut & Karan Kanchan)

This track is a bit darker and more atmospheric. It's about the struggles of everyday life, and the lyrics are raw and honest. The beat is also dark and menacing, but it's also strangely hypnotic.

In this track, Protagonist robs a bank because he was tired of not having money in his life. That's where he first stepped in in a crime and underworld scene of Mumbai.

5. The money - Interlude

The Robbery was successful and now the protagonist has so much money in his hands that he's going to buy that club where his friend was refused to enter before. This interlude a subtle callback to Ikka's one bar "I'll buy that land where I'm not supposed to put my feet".

6. Zero after Zero (feat. KR$NA & Talay Riley)

One of the standout tracks on the album is "Zero After Zero" featuring Krsna and Talay Riley. This song perfectly blends Indian influenced elements, creating a unique and captivating sound. Krsna's powerful and dynamic vocals combined with Talay Riley's smooth and soulful voice add depth and emotion to the track. The production quality of this song is top-notch, with KSHMR's signature attention to detail evident in every aspect of the music.

The only con of this song is also standing out of the plot of an album, because in this track, KR$NA was more talking about his own things and deeds. So this song has zero to next progress in storyline.

7. Upar Hi Upar (feat. Yashraj & Rawal)

It features Yashraj and Rawal, two of the most popular upcoming rappers in India. The song starts with a catchy melodious 808s that is reminiscent of versatile capabilities of KSHMR. The beat then drops, and Yashraj and Rawal start rapping. Their lyrics are about the importance of staying true to your roots and celebrating your culture. They also rap about the power of community and how it can help you achieve your dreams.

In the progress of the storyline, the protagonist is going up and up on his own way achieving everything he had dreamt of one by one.

8. Godfather (feat. Nazzz)

This song is one of a kind when nobody expected to see Nazz feature in KSHMR's album. And where Nazz is and there are no punchlines, it cannot be happened. So this song is so Nazz being Nazz, full of punchlines and hardcore Desi gangta vibe giving.

In this song, the protagonist now at top of his game ruling the underworld of city and becomes a Godfather now.

9. Bhasad - interlude

This interlude makes an appearance of the antagonist of an album, His name is "Raja bhai".

And Raja bhai is not happy with our Protagonist because, he is doing business in territory of Raja bhai. So the antagonist warns him saying that his actions will cost him one day.

10. All fall down (feat. Yashraj, Raja Kumari & Riar Saab)

This very song can be labelled as "Certified Banger". KSHMR went out of realm with his bombarding beat. Raja Kumari dropped the Sickest Hook of the entire Album. So big Props to Raja Kumari for this. Yashraj and Riar Saab dropped their energetic verses talking about everyday normal life of a gangster and then went back and forth at the outro verse. The hook is played 4 times in this song and also main Highlight of this track, because it happens very rare when the chorus outshined the actual verses and that's exactly what happened here.

In progression of storyline, Protagonist's gang has some little feuds and shootings with Raja Bhai's gang, where protagonist lost his few gang members. So protagonist felt like his new empire is falling down.

11. B.I.G. (feat. Harjas & PUNA)

This is a calming and sit-back giving vibe track that showcases the rapper's raw talent and lyrical prowess. The song opens with a catchy low beat that immediately grabs the listener's attention, and Harjas's confident delivery adds to the song's intensity.

The lyrics of "B.I.G." are introspective and thought-provoking, as Harjas raps about his struggles and aspirations. He speaks about overcoming adversity, having maturity and achieving success, and his words are both relatable and inspiring. This song has mixed reviews, low retention value and maybe not favourite song of anyone from this album. Some things just didn't work out in this song. But still, it's a really good song.

Our protagonist seems to have some maturity and realisation about his crime life.

12. La vida (feat. Dabzee & Vedan)

This is the song where KSHMR went into "Despasito" mode and threw a really vibey song with having two south indian rappers which I never heard of them before, rapping in 2 distinct South Indian languages. As I'm not familiar with any south indian languages, i haven't understood anything in this song, and yet I was vibing with it all the way long. This is one those songs where you don't need to worry about lyrics and just vibe with the song.

13. The Girl - interlude

As I said before, this is not just an album, it's a Bollywood movie. And movie is not complete without having a heroine. So here comes a female lead in our story, where the protagonist saw one girl on pathway at night looking for taxi and finds her very attractive.

14. Hath Varthi (feat. MC Stan)

Now that a Girl arrived in the scene, now it's time to hit the club and play a "Club Anthem" of this album which is Harth Varthi. The Best beat production by KSHMR in Karam. And it features MC Stan so you couldn't care less about lyrics. But still he delivered his funky verses where he talked about a girl he's hitting on and about his fame and everything. Overall it's really good song just made for playing in parties.

After seeing that girl, maybe our protagonist hits the club and partied all night.

15. Nasheeli Raat - interlude

That girl he saw at that night now is distracting the protagonist so bad that he can't be seeing anything but her face. He realised that he's in love with her. And what time is it? It's time for a "love song".

16. Mere bina (feat. PropheC & Talha Anjum)

This track is a love song about the importance of staying true to yourself. The lyrics are heartfelt and romantic, and the beat is soft and melodic. Anjum's verse was short but yet so effective. Showing that the protagonist is really serious about this one.

17. The Argument - interlude

In this one, we can see that our protagonist is with that girl and showing her a beach-side luxurious villa which he just bought for her. But the Girl is in concern about his gangster life. She doesn't want to live in a luxury bungalow which is made by rivering bloods. So they both have some arguments about it. In the end the girl asks him to quit his gangster life and said "your gun will take my life one day"

18. Maula (feat. Munawar)

In here, we are seeing a Standup Comedian is rapping about deep and serious things about life. This is an introspective track that showcases Munawar's unique storytelling ability and his raw talent. The song opens with a haunting melody that sets the tone for the track, and Munawar's heartfelt delivery adds to the song's emotional depth.

The lyrics of "Maula" are deeply personal and relatable, as Munawar raps about his struggles with faith, doubt, and the search for meaning in life. He speaks about his struggles with self-acceptance and his search for a higher power, and his words are both honest and vulnerable.

Our protagonist is now thinking about what consequences he will might face in the future if he quit his life now and starts living peacefully with his love interest, he's scared of his past and his karma if ever might hurt her too. So he was praying to God and asking for some help to show him right way.

19. The Call - interlude

Our protagonist was spending happy times with the girl when he gets a call from his sidekick friend who went to have some deal in Raja Bhai's area without even telling our protagonist. The deal Turned out as a trap of Raja Bhai where he shot dead the Protagonist's friend and he died on call. We can see the protagonist crying and screaming in pain on the other side.

20. Khoya sab (feat. Yungsta & Lisa Mishra)

Now that our protagonist lost his friend and second in command of his gang, he's feeling like he lost everything and everything is falling apart around him. It's perfect time for a sad song.

This is really powerful track filled with full of emotions that showcases Yungsta and Lisa Mishra's unique talents. Opening with a haunting beat and captivating lyrics, the song immediately draws the listener into its world of introspection and self-discovery. Yungsta's verses are filled with raw emotion and honesty, while Lisa Mishra's soothing voice provides a counterbalance, adding depth, resonance and melancholy to the song.

The lyrics of 'Khoya Sab' explore themes of loss, regret, and the search for meaning in life, with Yungsta and Lisa Mishra sharing their personal experiences and struggles. The song's title translates to 'Lost Everything', reflecting the feeling of being adrift and searching for a sense of purpose.

Considering the best track from this album, it's many people's the most favourite song. Overall, this is very impacting and moving song that will leave a lasting impression on the listener. It's a must-listen for fans of hip-hop and anyone who has experienced the depths of loss and the search for meaning in life.

21. The Revenge - interlude

Now our protagonist is all set to take revenge of his friend's death from Raja Bhai. He's well prepared for going on to full pledged gang war.

22. Enemies (feat. HanumanKind & Yashraj)

This is a "Gym Song" energetic track that showcases the raw talent and lyrical prowess of HanumanKind and Yashraj. The song opens with a hard-hitting beat that immediately grabs the listener's attention, and the confident delivery of HanumanKind and Yashraj adds to the song's intensity.

HanumanKind and Yashraj deliver their lyrics with a confidence that is both impressive and captivating. They command the listener's attention and make their words resonate.

This song gives you a feeling of action packed fight scenes from movie playing BGM exactly like this.

In the long outro, our protagonist seems like winning the war but he's injured, filled with bullet holes and slowly dying.

23. Legacy (feat. Raftaar)

Now that our protagonist is dead, it's time to talk to the legacy he sets. This is a tribute giving and motivational track that serves as a fitting finale to KSHMR's album "Karam". The song opens with a soaring melody that immediately sets the tone for Raftaar's inspiring lyrics. The song's production is top-notch, with a blend of drill elements that perfectly complement Raftaar's confident delivery.

Raftaar's lyrics in "Legacy" are both personal and universal, as he reflects on his own experiences and aspirations while also offering words of encouragement to others. He speaks about the importance of hard work and dedication, the power of dreams, and the legacy that one can leave behind. His words are both relatable and inspiring, and they are sure to resonate with listeners who are striving to achieve their own goals.

The production of "Legacy" is equally impressive, with a beat that is both driving and uplifting. The song's overall sound is polished and professional, and it perfectly complements Raftaar's message of perseverance and success.

Overall, "Legacy" is a perfect finale closing album track on "Karam". It is sure to made to inspire listeners to chase their dreams and leave their own mark on the world.

24. The end - interlude

The narrator voice says "in this life full of ups and downs, you finally get to your end, and nothing else comes with you except your Karam"

Conclusion

Overall, "Karam" is a must-listen album for fans of both electronic music and hip hop. It is a well-produced album with a star-studded lineup of artists and a variety of different styles. The album is also a celebration of Indian culture and the power of dreams. KSHMR really have done something never like before in Desi Hip-Hop scene. Undeniablly, the best project of 2023.

So, if you're looking for an album that is both upbeat and inspiring, then I highly recommend checking out "Karam" by KSHMR. It's an album that will stay with you long, maybe for entire lifetime after you've finished listening to it.

Peace out, and see you next time!

Honorable mentions:

@rap

@hiphop

@desihiphopofficial

@todayinhiphophistory

[oigimi]

arthur’s sequel - side story 1

No translation notes, other than this is in Arthur’s POV. I’m gonna try and do all his side stories :3 enjoy and be sure to read chapter 2!

Women and mysteries are both like exciting puzzles to solve. That’s my philosophy. But… Perhaps it’s a good thing to let you solve the mystery once in awhile.

Arthur: I’m hitting the town. MC, if you get lonely you can stay in my room.

MC: Hey, I’m not a child. I’m going out myself. See you later, Arthur.

Arthur: So cruel!

Just imagining MC waiting in my room, longing for me makes me happy. I’ll hide my secret plans and kiss her forehead. She waved rather cutely and saw me off as I headed to the city.

I got out of the carriage and stretched, stiff from sitting so long. I’ve been frequenting town for errands a lot lately, but I’ve kept it totally private.

(Well, I told Caroline I’d be picking it up today.)

Nothing wrong with finding a new restaurant or a nice view for a special date. As I was thinking about MC and feeling quite excited, another carriage stopped nearby.

(Hm? It’s still daytime but that carriage’s curtains are closed. The passengers aren’t getting off easily either. Is a high-ranking nobleman on board…? Perhaps it’s my nature as a mystery author, but I can’t get this out of my head.)

I picked myself up and began walking around town. For over ten minutes, I felt a gaze piercing my back and shadows coming and going out of the corner of my eye, and my sense of suspicion arose.

(...I’m being followed, aren’t I? But this person doesn’t seem to be a professional who hides himself. So…)

To not get the other person’s attention, I pretended to be window shopping in the store nearby.

Just as I thought. I could see my pursuer in the reflection in the glass.

…Aha. It’s MC, Isaac, and Dazai. I see. They must’ve been in the carriage from before so I wouldn’t see them, and are following me from a distance.

(From what I can tell, MC thinks Isaac was coerced by Dazai into getting involved. My concern is why are they following me? If Dazai’s involved, it could be a silly prank. But… I spun my head and reflected, and came to one possibility.)

Are they suspecting me of cheating? I’ve been hiding something from MC, and I’ve been around the red light district. Maybe someone saw me and alerted her.

…I think my silence had the opposite effect. I need to be sneaky about this, but I don’t want to worry MC.

I thought I should go up to them right then and explain, but…

No, MC took action on her own and didn’t question me. Perhaps it’s better to let her follow me and reach her own conclusions than convince her verbally. Through the glass, she was staring at me. MC will surely see the truth with her own eyes. Hmm… I wonder if I can pick up on her tricks as my assistant.

I pretended to be a rabbit unaware of the surrounding wolves. First stop was the jewelry shop, with MC and the others hot on my trail. I picked up the small box I’d ordered and stowed it away in the inner pocket of my jacket. At an angle MC and the others couldn’t see, of course.

(Today’s critical mission is complete!)

Caroline: Arthur, are you sure that wrapping is okay? You can add flowers and ribbons, you know. It just seems a bit plain.

Valerie: She’s right. If you want to give a gift like that, the presentation should be top notch! You’re going on a date, aren’t you? If you don’t mind, I can make MC’s dress and your suit!

Caroline at the jewelry store and Valerie at the boutique. They give such good advice. But we can’t talk now, MC is going to hear it. “That” is the only thing she can’t find out about today.

Arthur: Alright, I’ll mull it over. But I have some business to attend to today, so I’ll talk to you next time. And all this is a secret from MC, okay?

Then, I found MC and the others in the back alley and went around behind. Then Theo joined the three of them, and…

Theodorus: Well I’m not sure. Arthur is an author who’s always in heat. Humans can’t change their nature that quickly. Guess I’ll just have to force him to drink herbal tea until he vomits.

Arthur: Hey now, Theo. Don’t say things to upset MC.

MC and Isaac: Arthur??!!

I took advantage of Theo’s bad words to reveal I’d known they were following me. “Leave the rest to them,” said Dazai and Theo with a smirk. Isaac left, annoyed by Dazai.

Arthur: Dazai, Isaac, and even Theo. They really don’t trust me, do they?

MC: Arthur, I…

I sealed her lips with my finger. I bet she’ll say something like “It’s not that I didn’t trust you,” right? And then you’re going to apologize after that.

Arthur: No more on that. Now what conclusions have you drawn following me? Let me hear your reasoning, great detective.

Things like where I’ve been, what I’ve been doing… I can explain away all rumors of cheating. Look straight at me and explain your reasoning.

With the true explanation in my pocket, I looked MC right in the eyes, as if handing her an invitation to a challenge.

All I have is love in my heart for MC, and I know she’ll recognize it.