#and we still have like 2 years to go until the first book probably

[wikitpowers]

No you're definitely so right about there being a scene where Ty refuses to leave Kit because so much of Kit's perception of himself is that people can't love him or want him around unless he's serving some purpose for them or being useful to them, so the moment that Ty refuses to leave JUST because it's Kit who he loves and not because Kit's part of the plan or the First Heir or a Herondale or a Shadowhunter or anything is going to be so 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

DON’T EVEN!!! kit is going to be so surprised and taken aback that somebody wants to stay with him just because it’s him and my heart will be so freaking full like yes yes yes give kit all the love he deserves!

ty is gonna be staring into his soul and being all like “i’m not leaving you ever again, you understand?” and i am going to actually fall apart basically yeah so

[tkingfisher]

So I write all sorts of things (fiction, fanfic, screenplays) and my mind is cluttered garden of flowers and weeds and shiny ideas, and I'm wondering how to form a writing practice to clear it into tidy rows? Is it possible to shepherd untamed ideas into order?

How do you manage all your wonderful worlds, characters and inspiration and not feel haunted by the story bits and pieces in your head? Any practical tips beyond dark magic?

Thank you, you are such a constant inspiration for me, both prose and just your presence. <3

*laugh* Oh god, Nonny, if I ever find out, I’ll tell you! When you read books, you’re getting the Instagram-filtered view of a writer’s brain, all the flowers that grew out of the compost heap, carefully composed and shot in optimal lighting. The real inside of my skull is a magpie nest of Neat Shit I Read/Saw/Thought Up While Lying Awake At 2 AM. There are characters and ideas in there that I’ve been trying to get into a manuscript since I was twelve and typing on an Amiga 500.

But, that said…really, I think it’s okay. Creativity is inherently untidy. The compost heap can be corralled into a very pretty box made of sustainably harvested materials, hand-stained by traditional artisans being paid a living wage by an employee-owned company, but as soon as you lift the lid, it’s all worms and coffee grounds and old potting soil and cow shit and the vegetables you swore you were gonna eat this time before they went bad. That’s what compost is.

Nevertheless, having been in the business for…uh…fifteen years now? (@dduane is snickering at me, I can feel it) and having written nearly forty books, I can offer three bits of something less than advice. It’s what I do. It may not work for anyone else, but it’s what I do.

Un-Advice The First: If you get a shiny idea and you are super excited by it? Go ahead and chase it. Pull up a new page in Word or whatever and slap down a couple thousand words while it’s exciting. I know that this absolutely flies in the face of common wisdom, but quite frankly, my enthusiasm is a much rarer commodity than my time, so if I’m excited about something, I write it down until I’ve taken the edge off.

Then I usually save it into a big folder called “Fragments” and go back to work on whatever I’ve got a deadline on. (Usually. Sometimes the edge doesn’t wear off, and I wind up with another book. Which, y’know, darn.)

There are vast numbers of people who will tell you that a shiny idea is a sign that something is wrong with your current project and the solution is to knuckle down and work! through! it! And those people are probably right for them, and I trust they know how their own brains work. Me, though, I got ADHD like a bat has wings. My hard drive is a vast swamp of story beginnings, neat ideas, random scenes. And that’s okay because I still get books finished.

In fact, it’s better than okay. Not that long ago, my agent sent a novella to a publisher and they said “We’ll take that novella and three more novels. What’ve you got?” And I ended up plundering my hard drive and sending the editor a good dozen random beginnings until we found one that we both liked, and then I wrote the rest of that book. And then another one. If I hadn’t had all those fragments lying around, though, it would have been a miserable experience of writing book pitches and trying to think of stuff I could get excited about. (This may not be how some editors work, but it’s how my editor and I work, anyhow.)

Un-Advice The Second: Trust that everything will find a home eventually.

This one is easy to say and hard to do because sometimes you get that overload that if you’re writing the book about, say, werebear nuns, you aren’t writing the one about the alien crustaceans. Or worse, you feel guilty. If you don’t use that one cool thing, was all that time you spent on it wasted?

Breathe. Be easy. Every single cool thing does not need to go into a single book. There is no sell-by date on the neat character. You will probably write many books in your life and all those random characters will find a home. (Seriously, the werebear nuns were lurking for like a decade.)

For me, at least, when I find the spot where something fits, it often snaps into place like a Lego. Easton’s backstory as a soldier from a society where soldiers were a third sex had been kicking around in my head for a few years, derived from about three different sources, and then I wrote the opening to What Moves The Dead and all of a sudden Easton was there and alive and they had strong opinions about everything and I had ten thousand words practically before I turned around.

You can also stave off guilt by writing some of your ideas in as highly personal Easter Eggs. A couple of my books have references to a white deer woman, a heroic deed done by a saint and the ghost of a bird, and a woman with dozens of hummingbirds on tiny jeweled leashes. Those are all characters and stories I’ve had vague notions about, but haven’t managed to work in anywhere or learn much more about. Still, the passing reference is enough to make me feel like I haven’t abandoned them.

(The advantage to this is that once you DO write those in, the readers are all “oh my god, she foreshadowed this a decade ago, she must have planned this all out in advance!” Then you look really clever and well-organized and no one has to know that you have no idea what you’re doing.)

Un-Advice The Third: Write the kitchen sink book.

At one point, I had so many stray ideas that hadn’t gotten into a book yet—the tree of frogs, the dog-soldiers, the stained glass saint, the albatross and the shadow of the sun, and also I wanted to write something with Baba Yaga—that I hauled off and wrote a book where I just put in everything and the kitchen sink. It’s called Summer in Orcus. There are bits in there that I had been cooking in the mental compost heap for decades, but that weren’t enough on their own to sustain a whole book. The phrase “antelope women are not to be trusted” showed up in my head some time in college. It’s a fun little book and I’m proud of it, but it’s very much a patchwork quilt of weirdness. But it’s also written so that if later on, an antelope woman shows up in another book in another context, that just adds to their mythology, it doesn’t break canon or whatever.

(Pretty sure I’m not the only one who has done this, either. China Mieville has said that he wrote Perdido Street Station because what he really enjoyed was writing all the weird monsters.)

So yeah, that’s my advice, for what it’s worth. Some days I just tell all the fragments and ideas that I promise that I’ll get them a home eventually but I need to write this thing here now. Sometimes I throw down enough words to get the story stabilized and then I’m okay to move on. Sometimes I write multiple books simultaneously.

Any method you use to write the book, so long as it doesn’t hurt you or anyone else, is a perfectly valid method. If anyone tells you different, you send them to me.

(…god, I hope that was the question you were actually asking, Nonny, and that I didn’t go off on a completely different tangent when you just wanted to know how I keep track of a plot or something.)

[peterspinkrobe]

Communion | AU Priest Miguel O’Hara x female Reader

A/N: I commissioned the above Priest Miguel. Ever since the artist sent the sketch, (@ ejpuki on twitter plz go show love!) this story has been a brewin’ in my cranium. I am not a newbie when it comes to fanfic, but a virgin to writing Miguel. Please accept this offering to the mania that is fandom. Feedback is appreciated. I know the tenses are probably all over the place. Part 2 is live!!. Let me know if you’re interested ~~

Warnings: Religious content, parents, dirty-minded reader, no mention of Y/N

As you sat in the middle pew, aisle seats, you fiddled with the dress your mother guilted you into wearing. The hem of the skirt had a little fraying and you couldn’t help but pick at it.

The meddling was met with a small smack on your wrist from your mother.

“Stop! You’re going to make it worse! I know it’s an old dress but it will only look that way if you pick at it.” The sharpness in tone and the lacy lilac dress from high school brought you back to all of the Sunday mornings you’d been ripped from the comfort of your bed to attend church.

Church. Your head was already starting to hurt from the early morning light pouring through the stained glasses windows, but your tried to remain neutral to spare mom.

Your relationship with the Almighty soured not long after your father passed. Faith was hard to come by and the struggles you’d faced recently only strained that even further.

“Sorry, mama.” You say quietly, acting like you’re still twelve and not in your mid twenties.

Ever since you moved back in you’ve had to live under “her rules”. Sunday service is one of those rules. Considering the headache you’ve caused her recently, you ignore your own and do as she asks. It’s only fair.

But church? Last week was your first time back inside a church since leaving for college five years ago. It was the same one you’d been dragged to in your younger years. The same stained pews, same old books of Psalms, same feeling of estrangement despite being surrounded by the same old folks.

Your mom had turned her attention to the lady that lived on our street and you turned your own attention to your fingernails, scraping underneath them for dirt that wasn’t there. You think about how you had dropped the habit until moving back in, but was interrupted by microphone static.

You pulled your gaze to the front of the church and saw Father Steen tapping the microphone. Despite only being five years since you last saw him, the man seemed to have aged decades. His frail frame balanced on the podium as he spoke. You realized why the microphone was needed when he started speaking - amplifying the hushed tone of the elder addressing his congregation.

“Good morning and many blessings to you all this Sunday morning,” he began and you couldn’t help but lower your gaze back to the frayed bit of your dress. His monotone voice was… kinda boring. You hated thinking that way because Father Steen was such a good man and he cared for your mother greatly when dad passed. He was mentioning an upcoming surgery and you were back to picking at your fingernails. His voice eked on through the speakers, “so we will be having a transitional deacon come in to take over my position until I recover. This fine young man has graciously accepted this position as he is working to become a priest himself. Please welcome Mr. O’Hara as he leads us in prayer to begin communion for this month.”

There is respectful applause and your eyes are still on your hands until your mom elbows you gently. You start to apologize again for not paying attention but notice she and her pew neighbor are giggling as they clap. You start to clap your own hands as you look up at what they were giggling like schoolgirls about when your hands freeze in their clapped position - almost like you’re praying.

The deacon that Father Steen introduced was… gorgeous, and he was looking at you. You blushed, embarrassingly, under the gaze of the dark eyes. Could he tell you hadn’t been paying attention?

Well, you most certainly were now.

You pulled your eyes away from him to look at your mother who was wiggling her eyebrows at you, causing you to blush even deeper and turn back to the front.

The first thing you notice about the man standing at the front of the church was his height. He towered over the podium he placed a hand on. Father Steen came up to only just above his elbows with his hunched body.

The eyes that were watching you now surveyed the room and the light from the windows shown dark, warm pools of irises. His face…

Sharp symmetry made up his countenance. Distinct cheekbones bobbing as the smooth bronze skin stretched upwards into a smile. The strong jawline accentuated with the muscles of his lips pulling back, revealing a dazzling toothy smile.

When he spoke for the first time, you understood why your mom cried during Psalms at times. His voice was gospel.

“Thank you, all, for welcoming me into your parish. I know that you have received excellent spiritual guidance from Father Steen. I can only hope to at least partially fill his shoes in his absence.” His voice boomed throughout the church with no need for a microphone. “Before we begin the sacred ritual that is communion, let us bow our heads in prayer.”

The church around you dutifully lowered their heads, and you did the same. Hating closing your eyes to the alluring man in front of the church. At least his voice still filled your ears with song.

“Heavenly Father, we are gathered here today, in your house, in the name of your Son to receive the Body and Blood of Christ…” you decide it won’t be such a terrible sin to sneak a peek during prayer. You lift your head up to catch another glimpse at the ethereal creature leading prayer while he wasn’t looking.

But he was looking. Right at you as he continued to recite, “We are all sinners, and we are all in need of your grace and forgiveness.” You start to think about how much you needed his grace, when you pinch yourself for the blasphemy.

You’re still staring at each other as he finishes, “We pray that You will bless this communion and that it will deepen our relationships with You.” You instantly feel heat in your gut when you wonder just how deep it can go..

You think you see him grin slightly, but he pulls his eyes away from yours and you quickly put your head back down.

“In Your Blessed Name, Amen.” He ends. “Amen”, the church responds in unison and you squeak it out as well.

The first pew stands and approaches the front of the church, choir boys retrieving the communion goods. You notice that there is a split in the line as one is given the small wafer and grape juice shot by Father Steen and the other line the new deacon.

You can’t keep your eyes off him as he offers the sacrament to each person in line. He is taking longer than Father Steen, seeming to ask questions before presenting the body and blood of a savior.

As it came to be your pew’s turn, you stood. With only a few people in front of you, you studied Miguel’s figure in short glances.

Along with being a towering figure, he was a wide one as well. Muscles filled in the long-sleeved black button down shirt. His large upper body tapered off into a slim waist, tucked neatly into dark pants. A belt accentuated the fit waist even further. Your eyes trailed quickly across the thick neck that was accessorized by the all too familiar white collar of priesthood. When you were just behind one more person, your eyes fell to the floor.

Part of you wished you would be on Father Steen’s side as you feel as though you’re about to burst from this proximity of the giant man. He was bent over speaking to an elder of the church, giving her a soft smile as she blessed him for coming to ‘our little church.’

The man in line in front of you stood to Father Steen and the woman was letting Mr. O’Hara go from a sweet embrace.

Thank God, you guessed, for the years of attending communion as your muscle memory tore your legs from their form rooted position at the altar.

You approached the tall figure and your eyes are locked on the lips of the man in front of you. You see them move, hearing nothing but the beating of your heart in your eardrums.

“I-I’m sorry. What?” You sputter the words and heat creeps into your chest and face.

A soft chuckle escapes his full lips and he smiles as he repeats, “What is your name?”

You give it to him. And he says it. The way your name sounds in his music makes you smile up at him. He holds your gaze for a moment before speaking again.

“The Body of Christ.” He extends his hand in an upward position, the white wafer between his index finger and thumb.

You bow your head slightly in reverence of the offering. As you start to pull your head up again, his pinky and ring finger catch under your chin, lifting your face the rest of the way.

You breathe out a small gasp and open your mouth. He seems to mirror the action slightly as his own mouth drops slightly open. You extend your tongue a little as he places the thin wafer onto it.

His gaze is heavy as he watches you take the offering into your mouth. Your breath hitches when he runs his thumb across your pouted bottom lip, catching some saliva with it.

“Amen.” You respond and it’s not until he pulls his hand from your face when you turn to grab a small glass of grape juice. “The Precious Blood.” You hear him say behind you as you bring the glass to your lips, relishing the sweet refreshment.

Your face is red hot as you turn to walk back to your pew, ignoring your mother’s glances as she had already been back to her seat.

The burning in your cheeks is even more fiery as it dawns on you that the whole church saw the exchange. You hope, you pray, that it was perceived as a normal moment between a new Shepard and a member of his flock.

Communion wraps up and Father Steen takes a seat behind the the new head of church as he begins his sermon. The slight pressure of his thumb on your bottom lip created a pool of heat in your belly that wouldn’t go away.

You try to pay attention to the Good Word, you really do, but your mind is other places. Definitely not holy places.

Maybe coming to church won’t be too bad after all…

[thebibliosphere]

"But you're so successful without it."

Content warning: This post contains mentions of suicidal ideation.

I got a message earlier tonight that I'm not going to post, but I did ask the person involved if I could talk about what we subsequently ended up talking about in DMs because I feel it's important.

Basically, it was along the lines of "My kid got diagnosed with ADHD and really wants to try meds. I know from reading your blog that correct treatment for ADHD can be really beneficial, but I just don't think she's severe enough to need them."

The message then went on to ask me, as someone who is unmedicated with ADHD, for some tricks and tips on how to be successful without medication because clearly, look how well I'm doing without them. I mean, look at my blog, look at my book(s)! Surely if I can do all that without ADHD meds, other people can too. Surely there's a trick. A skill. Something you can learn if you just try hard enough...

This is not the first time I have received a message like this. In fact, I probably get about 2-5 messages like this a week.

Usually from other people who also have ADHD/suspect ADHD but don't want medication because they don't think they need it/don't want to need it, and yet can't figure out why they're struggling so much, and ask me how do I do the thing(s) and cope so well and get so much done, etc., etc.

So I'm going to tell you what I told this person tonight in case it helps someone. Yes, I have ADHD. No, I am not medicated due to severe health complications, and yes, I get a lot done. From the outside, I am sure it looks incredibly productive and successful. But I'm going to let you in on what that success feels like.

It feels like dying.

It feels like my brain is on fire; every nerve in my body scraped raw; every part of me wired and exposed to the noise of the world. There is no quiet; there is no calm. And even when my brain does fall silent, it's another kind of death. The inside of my head is sludge, flowing uphill like treacle, weighing me down, pulling me under in the riptide of my inability to focus. I can see what needs to be done, I can see it so clearly, yet sometimes it's like I don't control my own body. Not enough dopamine. Not enough brain chemicals for the message I'm screaming in my head to make my limbs do the simplest of tasks. Like, feed myself. Take a shower. Answer that email. Text my friends back. Go to bed when I'm tired. Write a best-selling novel...

A novel that almost killed me and not because of my other ailments, but because of my unmedicated ADHD.

I didn't realize it at the time, but I was already operating at critical mass when I went into final rewrites/edits. Every coping mechanism I had fell apart. Like training wheels falling off a tricycle, leaving me to wobble unsteadily until the main wheels fell off, swiftly followed by the handlebars until all that was left was me peddling frantically trying to keep my balance and not getting anywhere. I didn't realize it then, but I was heading towards a complete mental collapse. And even when I dragged myself across the finish line with the above and beyond help provided by my friends and editors, I was so burned out I couldn't enjoy my success. Worse, my success made me suicidal.

It took me until very recently, almost two years later, to be able to read Phangs without feeling suicidal. My brain associated it with the trauma of experiencing complete ADHD burnout but having to complete a monumental task anyway.

I had to go into intensive therapy to recover. I am still in intensive therapy for it.

It took me even longer after that to be able to sit down and write without harming myself. I still struggle with it, and I tell you this in all honest sincerity in the hope it makes you realize what it costs me to be "successful" and unmedicated.

And this wasn't the first time I've had to deal with this, either.

I struggled all through high school, all through college, all through every career job I ever had, knowing there was something wrong, but not quite being able to put my finger on it because hey, I still got stuff done, so it couldn't be that bad, right? Surely everyone went through life feeling this way? Right?

...right?

It wasn't until I got my ADHD diagnosis as an adult that I realized what was happening. Why I struggled so much. Why life was so hard. In many ways, it was like the sun coming up. An internal dawning of realization and acceptance, but also rage.

So much rage.

Rage at how much I'd had to struggle because no one noticed because I was quiet and undisruptive. Rage at a system that forced me to learn in ways that were not intuitive to my brain. To always being told, "doesn't apply herself" while it felt like I was clawing my brain apart trying to do what people wanted from me. To a work-life balance, that rewards all the things that make ADHD actively worse. Rage. So much rage it hurts. And to top it all off, I can't be medicated for it. I finally know what's different, I finally know why my world feels raw and turned inside out, and I can't take any of the medications that might help me.

Do you know how angry I wake up every day that there is a possible solution just within my grasp, but my health conditions prevent me from trying them? Do you know how much it hurts? How much I grieve for the person I could be if I was able to have help beyond therapy and coaching? How much happier I could be...

Not productive. Not successful. Happy.

So ask yourself, what do you want more? A child who has to go through all of this and resents you for prolonging their suffering? Who winds up hating themselves by internalizing the false concept that if they just try hard enough, they can do whatever they set their mind to.

Or do you want to help them?

Or if this is you, why are you afraid to help yourself?

Please, don't use me as an example to harm yourself or others. Yes, I am successful without medication. But the toll is high. Too high.

Rid yourself of the idea that you need to suffer more to be allowed help. You don't. They don't. No one does.

[shijiujun]

A Summary: The Spirealm | 致命游戏 (Kaleidoscope of Death 死亡万花筒 Live Action) & Why You Should (Eventually) Watch It

Talk about the most short-lived drama release ever, not even totalling two hours if I recall. Creating this summary as I've seen a handful of confused friends, so here it goes!

It's going to be a long review because I sped through all 78 episodes and only properly watched the first two doors, but I got you. You'll get both the brief book rundown and the drama parts!

If you just wanna see the bromance (LOVE) parts please skip to section 4!!!!

1. Overview

Title: The Spirealm (kinda awful I'm sorry it's a mouthful) or 致命游戏 which means fatal game

Adapted From: Danmei (BL) Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu

Novel Prints: There are GORGEOUS Thai, Vietnamese, Simplified and Traditional Chinese versions printed, AND Singapore publisher Rosmei has signed the license for the ENGLISH version, probably going on sale this year (preview is here). You can still access fan translations by Taida on I think wordpress and someone else on Tumblr sorry bad memory (they did half and half each) if you'd like to read it for context. It is one of my FAVE danmeis EVER and I am a die-hard OG book fan, check out my full danmei review here.

Total Episodes: 78 (20 minutes each with the exception of last episode which 10 minutes, with several BTS not that I think we will get to see all of them yet)

Where to Watch (LOL): Erm considering that iQIYI China AND International took the episodes down, there is no legal way to watch this, BUT thanks to some cnetz with super fast and great wifi, we managed to get ripped HD versions without subs. iQIYI is very hard on copyright though, they've taken down several subbed and unsubbed versions already on YouTube, but you should type the titles of show into Twitter and the top tags will tell you where to access the raws and very little subbed episodes, that may also be taken down at any point. I have the Chinese raws but as it's hosted on a cloud, I had to pay to access it.

Main Characters: Lin Qiushi & Ruan Nanzhu/Ruan Baijie (in the novel) and Ling Jiushi & Ruan Nanzhu/Ruan Baijie (in the drama)

Produced By: iQIYI so for SURE they won't film it fully BL even if the original is, but I've seen enough bromance cuts

Main Actors: Xia Zhiguang (Ruan Nanzhu/Ruan Baijie) + Huang Junjie (Ling Jiushi)

2. Summary

Book (drama follows closely if not removing the supernatural premises): Lin Qiushi, a designer, opens the door to his home one day from inside and sees 12 iron doors outside. Confused, he opens one of them and arrives at a snow covered village in the mid of winter, and meets Ruan Baijie, who's a pretty, unusually tall and whiny/timid woman. They realise that they're in a horrifying door game, and they'll have to find a door and a key to get out, while battling a long-haired, human-eating deity. They, along with a few others, have to survive day after day until they get out, and on the first night, two people have died in gory ways. Ruan Baijie and Lin Qiushi partner each other, and despite seemingly timid and crying all the time, she saves Lin Qiushi a few times mysteriously, and Lin Qiushi finds himself trusting in Ruan Baijie.

They get through the door together and when they leave successfully, Lin Qiushi realizes that the people who died in the door will die in real life by some freak accident too - car accidents, forced suicides, a robbery gone wrong, a lift trapped in the air and going ablaze, and more. That night, Lin Qiushi wakes up to see a super handsome and tall Ruan Nanzhu at his bedside and this man feels familiar to him, but he can't put a finger on it. All he can think of when Ruan Nanzhu says his name is Ruan Baijie (ahem he would later find out who it is of course). Ruan Nanzhu takes him to his mansion in the suburbs where he meets a group of other people just like them, who're forced to go through the doors for survival. Ruan Nanzhu then invites him to join Obsidian, his organization.

Through various doors, Lin Qiushi grows and supports a super intelligent and powerful Ruan Nanzhu, falls in love with him, gets through many many scary doors with him and some of their other team members, makes friends, loses them to the cruelty of the doors as they ponder over what the door means, and what being alive/dying means.

And at the end of it, at the end of of it all, when they're all good and living their life, Lin Qiushi also finds out what Ruan Nanzhu's secret is, and the lengths to which Ruan Nanzhu went to, just to be with him.

Drama: Ling Jiushi is a VR game designer who gets pulled into a game, and he meets Ruan Baijie (in his male form) right off the bat (SO NOT CROSSDRESSING I AM SAD). All the parts are actually the same as the novel, albeit with the game setting and Ling Jiushi and Ruan Nanzhu's identity adjustments to suit the game premise. Most of the other doors and their lines are the same, just that the ending is a bit more confusing than it could be. There's a big bad as well and they actually show the opposing organizations when in the novel, these other organizations aside from Obsidian didn't even actually have a face or goal to them.

3. Characters

^ Them in the book (based on manhua that never got to go live LOL) (RNZ/RBJ left, LQS right)

^ Them in the show (LJS left, RNZ right)

Ruan Nanzhu/Ruan Baijie: MY HANDSOME CROSSDRESSING INTELLIGENT ALOOF BUT WHINY (WHEN IT COMES TO LIN QIUSHI) SASSY BOSS!!!! He's super mysterious and super thick-skinned too, and all he wants is Lin Qiushi's attention the moment he meets him. He's intrigued by Lin Qiushi's calm and his brains and the way he handles things, and has a lot of trust for him right from the get-go. This is also shown in the drama itself. As the leader of Obsidian, he cares a lot for his team members and his friends even if he doesn't show it most of the time, and the last thing he wants to do is lose Lin Qiushi, and he would do ANYTHING for Lin Qiushi, ANYTHING!!! Just look at him whining:

Ling Jiushi (Lin Qiushi): In the novel he's super calm, has quite a lot of brains, a little bit of a blur in the beginning but he's super smart as well. Worries a lot for Ruan Nanzhu and is also a loyal friend to some of his only friends, and feels a lot when he loses them. Falls gradually in love with Ruan Nanzhu in the novel, like they just belong together. In this drama, Ling Jiushi holds that same trust for Ruan Nanzhu, but in demeanour he seems a bit more like a klutz and and not as cool as he was in the novel, but I guess it's acceptable. Literally like the only thing he loves more than RNZ (maybe) is his cat Chestnut LOL and RNZ is NOT really happy about that but Chestnut LOVES RNZ

Yixie and Qianli: CUTEST TWINS ;-; WHO TREAT RNZ and LQS as their big brothers LOOK AT THEM BOWING AND RNZ/LJS like parents LMAO

A handful of other characters who will keep turning up and get your hearts ;-;

4. ALL FAVE BROMANCE MOMENTS + TROPES

THEY TOUCH EACH OTHER A LOT LIKE HOLDING HANDS AND TOUCHING FACES, PIGGY BACKING?!?! DID I MENTION FACE TOUCHING

WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP THEY HELP EACH OTHER WHEN HURT OR GET HURT FOR EACH OTHER

AND WHEN THEY WAKE UP IN BED THE OTHER IS AT THEIR BEDSIDE

AND DID I MENTION HE FEEDS HIM IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE

AND THAT THEY DATED UNDER THE FIREWORKS LIKE THE NOVEL DOES NOT EVEN HAVE THIS SHIT

AND THE KABEDONS

AND FINALLY RUAN NANZHU RIZZ OMG

5. Settings

They REALLY OUTDID THEMSELVES. THIS JUST FROM DOORS 1-6:

THEY LOOK EXACTLY LIKE THE NOVEL DESCRIBED!!!!

6. Overall Thoughts

PROS: This was NOT a cheap production, I'm telling you, they followed the cases very well and there're a lot of super recognisable lines, if not ALL of them, even if they changed the cases a little. I think they did it because in the novel originally, the author DOES leave a lot of details hanging like someone dies and you know he had a background and there are some shady things happening but the author NEVER actually goes into detail. So the drama did their best to cover these loopholes, even if it felt a little awkward at times. Money went into settings and attires and every damn thing, this looks EXPENSIVE. And if you've ever imagined each door and the bosses inside in your head, you might have felt chills go down your spine because damn did they really colour the book's settings for me (despite its differences). DID I MENTION that Xia Zhiguang really got the damn memo and he was a passable Ruan Nanzhu/Ruan Baijie who knew how to turn on his BL eyes. PLUS they really did some of the character deaths really well - they're technically some of the biggest parts of this story so ;-; (not two main of course)

CONS (maybe): They did away with the supernatural/horror premise and replaced it with a GAME premise, which means that there's a scientific element to it and the try to explain away stuff with the game, including the ending. I don't 100% get the ending, but the feel/vibe is about the same. Might not be for hardcore reader fans tho! They skipped out on a couple of doors, some of which were my faves, but it's fine, it's long enough LOL. They give away/explain some of the clues and surprises super early which means you don't get that added boom at the back as well. Despite that, I have to say they tried to round up the loopholes from the book as much as they could and give it an explanation while tying elements/conspiracies across doors (probably also to save cast fees LOL). And as always it's not a solid ending, it's an open confusing one, and even more confusing than the book itself because THERE IS NO CERTAIN HAPPILY EVER AFTER WITH HUBBY for it (there is in the book tho, they live together happily every after). Secondl,y, I'd say HJJ's acting is a bit stiff and OOC compared to the novel, but Xia Zhiguang really made up for it.

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HOPE THIS HELPS YOU GUYS!!! But I guess if you need subs it's going to be a long LONGGGG ride, considering that iQIYI doesn't seem to be going to be able to put it up anytime soon CRIES.

[nyerusnova]

Glad to see that Tim being a giant Dick Grayson fanboy is finally being highlighted again, and sparking more discussion especially on their early relationship! (Please gimme more!!! I love them so much, augh!)

Probably as a result of that surge, there seems to be reciprocal chatter on the topic of how young Tim actually felt towards Jason, too. It's honestly pretty interesting, because it's more nuanced than it appears at first glance.

Which means it's very fun to dissect! ✨

There's a degree of subjectivity to keep in mind, because readers are going to have different interpretations of the same scenes, or will pull from entirely different scenes than one another to form their individual view on this topic. That's just how it is in comic book fandom, for many things! Regardless, in this case... if the scale ranges from the extreme of "Jason was Tim's Robin" to the other extreme of "Tim actually hated Jason [as Robin] or thought he was a loser that got himself killed" — the actual truth is closer to the middle, as is often the case.

At least, in my opinion.

Mainly I want to focus on those relatively early days with this post, to highlight Tim's initial(-ish) feelings towards his heroes, and touch on the point at which they really begin to change. This turned into a very long post, though. Brevity is beyond my skill, so grab snacks and water lol. Transcripts for each image will be posted at the very end under the cut.

So, the two storylines I want to cover are "Rite of Passage," which is rolls into "Identity Crisis." (NOT to be confused with the major crossover event "Identity Crisis™" which came years later, and is where Jack Drake dies.... But it sure is an interesting coincidence that Tim deals with the loss of each parent in two similarly named stories!) These take place before Tim is even Robin, and I'll be considering them as one arc for this post.

Detective Comics vol. 1 #618 (July, 1990) -- Pages 1 & 2

"When Gotham needed him, he was there. When the Batman needed him, he was there. He was a hero."

"One day, I'll be as good as Jason. One day I'll wear the suit."

To start off, we have this opening from "Rite of Passage." Tim is still in training here, mainly helping Bruce with minor stuff from the cave. His parents are off traveling, alive and well as of these next few pages. He's still bright-eyed and full of wonder. An extraordinarily weird but ultimately innocent kid.

So his view on Jason is positive and fairly simple: a hero, and someone to look up to as Robin. Clearly, Tim here doesn't think Jason was deficient in his role, either as a protector of Gotham or as Batman's trusted partner.

Moreover, Tim already held Dick in very high regard because he was amazingly skilled before he became Robin. To Tim, that's not something he'll ever be able to achieve. Meanwhile, Jason wasn't like that. He was a regular kid without crazy acrobatic training since practically birth. Yet he still went on to be a hero—which is obviously motivational for Tim who finds himself in similar shoes.

It's true that Tim only ever knew or thought of Jason as Robin, and idolized him in that regard. But that's kind of all that mattered to him at that point, because he was this kid who was utterly star-struck by his heroes. Even if he's technically aware of their shortcomings as people, it's overshadowed by the hero-worship.

It was kind of the same with Bruce as Batman at first. (Which was still enough for Tim to risk life and limb to help his beloved hero, before Bruce even knew his name.) Dick was the only one Tim had any sort of "personal" relationship with beforehand, so there is an extra level of attachment—and hence why it was the nidus for his obsession with Batman. Yet even then, it wasn't like he actually knew anything about Dick as a person until later. Until then, Tim's ideas of him were all he had, too. With Jason, Tim just didn't get to know him at any point before his return (oof), apart from what he heard over the years secondhand (also oof).

Ultimately, it's the loss of innocence—along with the ricocheting bullet that is the unresolved guilt of those around him—that begins to change Tim's perception. Not just of Jason, but of things in general.

Batman vol. 1 #455 (Oct., 1990) -- Page 13

"I know why they do it now. Why they put on the suits, and the masks, and go out into the night. They're angry, they're full of rage. They want to hit back."

Losing his mother was a major shift for Tim, obviously. This is right after the previous storyline, and Tim's had the worst week or two of his life (so far). His monologue here is a reference to what happened to both Dick and Jason. The unbearable pain of loss, the rage masking the grief underneath. And importantly, that he feels both of them were justified in their anger. (And Bruce too, indirectly.)

The major theme of the aptly named "Identity Crisis" is to mirror aspects of Dick and Jason and Tim's lives—to show how they converged onto the same tragic road. It's something that Tim notices early in the story, and was frightened by. Now, horrifically, it's become a part of him as well. His parents are gone, and he was entirely helpless to do anything about it. Dick was the same way, Jason was the same way. The cycle is repeated.

In particular, the part about him wanting to go to Haiti for revenge—for his mother—sort of struck me as being an intentional parallel to Jason and Ethiopia. It's a bit of a stretch, especially in isolation, so others may see it differently (e.g. the angry ramblings of a grieving child that does sound like something anyone might say). But it always stuck out to me because of how much Tim is compared directly to Jason in this arc. More on that below.

It's not something I can really give an accurate feel of because it's a lot of subtle things that begin to add up, so I'd encourage folks to read this arc themselves to see what I mean. (Or maybe you'll still disagree which is fine too lol.) Again, many things are in reference to both Dick and Jason in relation to Tim, but it's weighted more on Jason's side.

Batman vol. 1 #455 (Oct., 1990) -- Page 18

"You think my anger will boil over, the way Jason's did. I can assure you, it won't!"

Tim's grief has begun to pull away the veil of idealism that enshrouded his heroes in his mind. It doesn't apply only to Jason, but to the rest of them. Plus add the fact that Tim's keenly aware that he's being managed, even if the adults around him are careful to not outright say certain things. He still knows.

Bruce, Dick, and Alfred are all worried about Tim potentially turning into "another Jason." They (and mainly Bruce) caution Tim to not ignore his emotions, but they're still concerned that he may be overly eager to prove himself in order to cope, and could get hurt or killed as a result. While they aren't wrong for their caution—especially at how unsettlingly similar all the circumstances are—they aren't very subtle about the elephant in the room.

Imagine how that would affect Tim's perception of his predecessor, especially when he's in the midst of a traumatic event he hasn't had time to fully process. The negative association is pretty much inevitable.

Tim's known from day one that he's walking in Jason's shadow, and now it's become inescapable. Tim went from seeing Jason as a goal to reach, to feeling that unless he surpasses him, he wasn't going to be taken seriously by anyone. However, as of this arc, Tim doesn't even fully come to that point yet.

Batman vol. 1 #456 (Nov., 1990) -- Pages 14 & 15

"Drop-outs don't make it. And dead heroes are no use to anyone!"

It's really easy to take away "Tim totally thought Jason got himself killed" as the main thing here, but I think that's missing the forest for the trees.

First some context: Bruce has gone out on a mission to get Scarecrow, and expressly forbade Tim from doing any shenanigans. Meanwhile, Tim is grappling with wanting to prove himself and trying to help Bruce from the cave, all while trying to deal with his emotions. At some point, he falls asleep and ends up having like... exhaustion-grief hallucinations of Dick!Robin and Jason!Robin who confusingly caution yet encourage him. The main theme of this part is facing your fears.

Depending on how you want to interpret the intent of Jason's dialogue here, you could go several ways with it. Ranging from "writer's feelings towards Jason" to "a peek into Tim's mind as his fears manifest as visions of his heroes" or some mixture thereof.

Though Tim argues with Bruce that Batman needs a Robin, we're shown that Tim is understandably scared of joining Batman's "war." He's still not willing to let Bruce go it alone, though, and that's something he feels more strongly than his fear.

Meanwhile, hallucination!Jason's warnings are a lamentation of what happened to him in a way, but it actually exactly describes Tim's current situation even more so. Unlike Jason, Tim is under-trained, under-experienced, doesn't even have a suit of his own yet. But like Jason, he can't sit by and do nothing while someone he cares about is in danger. Tim knows that if he goes out there, he will probably get himself killed, and it will be his own fault. So he's about to disobey Batman's orders, and fly right into danger. If that got Jason killed, then Tim—who is in a way worse position experience-wise—has every chance of ending up the same.

Like... it's about Jason, but it's also about Tim. It's Tim's worst fears made manifest, via the representation of why he is even here in the first place (Jason's death).

That's my theory anyway, but perhaps this is an overly charitable reading of this scene on my end. (Not that I think that makes me wrong lol.) However given that Grant wrote both parts of this arc, and the beginning of which is especially favorable towards Jason, it certainly is something to ponder. I have a lot of thoughts on it I can't expand on here tbh but perhaps that'll be another post.

Anyway, returning to the point of the similarities vs differences between Tim and Jason: since this is the arc that solidified Tim as the next Robin in comic continuity, it makes sense that the writers really pushed the comparisons between the two of them, specifically. (Even though Dick was pretty similar, as going against Batman's orders is the Robin thing to do, it's not his shoes Tim is directly filling.) So making Tim's "debut" story arc mirror Jason's "swansong" is an obvious narrative choice.

To drive home the parallels, I wanted to include this panel from just a few pages prior to the "daydream":

Batman vol. 1 #456 (Nov., 1990) -- Page 9

"The suit is magic."

That so distressingly close to Jason's famous "being Robin gives me magic" line (Batman #385, page 6). Given all the previous context, it's hard for me to just dismiss it as pure coincidence. Even if it is, the point still stands. Tim is shown having the some of the same heartbreakingly naive views as Jason once did, right in front of Jason's memorial, just as he's about to go and run off into the night against orders.

I think that speaks for itself. There's a lot to take away from it, if you so choose. Especially given the context of that specific Jason arc.

Alright, back to the main course:

So in the end, Tim actually goes out in civvies and a ski mask because if he fails, then at least he wouldn't bring shame to Robin's legacy™. When he gets fear gassed saving Batman, it's once again both Dick and Jason that he hallucinates encouraging him to push past his fear. (Shout out to the fact that he's literally more afraid of tarnishing the legacy of Batman & Robin than he is of dying.... I'm sure this will not be a recurring thing for him in the future.)

Tim's ideology is shown to be similar to Jason's, and the actions Tim ultimately takes are similar to Jason's... but the outcome is different. And it really isn't just "Tim succeeded where Jason failed." At least, that's not what I took away from this. Rather, Tim had no reason to succeed any more than he had to fail, just that he did. Luck combined with caution because he knew what happened to his predecessor, and the fact that Batman was there to finish the job all made the difference.

You could say (and I know some will) that it's just classic Jason character assassination and the writers trying to implore readers that this new kid is different we promise pls don't hate us look how much better he is! But in this case, that feels like it undermines the whole point of this story. It doesn't fit with what the characters actually say.

Thus, we return to the question of how Tim felt towards his predecessor. And the answer is different from where we started, because Tim is different. Not that different though. Because even though at this point Tim—like all the adults around him—has probably attributed Jason "going off on his own" being what led to his death, Tim still thought of him as a hero to look up to. It's about Robin, first and foremost, yes. But Tim is fully aware of the people who made that suit mean what it does, because it's all intertwined.

Batman vol. 1 #457 (Dec., 1990) -- Page 20

"I mean--Dick made it into a symbol the whole world knows. Jason gave his life for it."

Even further, Tim thinks of it in terms of Jason having given his life for what he believed in, for the legacy that now falls to Tim. There's a sense of gravitas there. He's afraid of failing both the Robins who came before him.

Ultimately do I think Tim adored and loved Jason on the same level as Dick or something? No. It's not comparable. (Dick was like part of some of Tim's earliest memories and everything! They have a really unique bond ok.) Yet Tim was also far from thinking poorly of Jason so early on. Frankly, it seems that Tim thought of Jason as a noble hero and a cautionary tale. Yes he took risks and sometimes went too far, generally stuff that Tim doesn't want to repeat and all that. At the same time, Tim still saw him as someone whose legacy and memory was worth honoring.

It's complicated, which is why I like it so much—because it feels real. Having conflicting feelings towards someone is... so human. Especially someone you never got to know, yet who plays such an integral role in your life via the shadow of their death. How can you feel anything but complicated towards them?

It has to be said that, yes, Tim's views—even before Jason's return—change over the years. He becomes more jaded as a person and is surrounded by people who are even more jaded than him... and who often mention Jason as the "failed Robin." It's something that's hung over Tim's head all the damn time. The curse of the Robin mantle.

So it shouldn't come as a surprise that Tim's idea of him becomes more akin to "sounds like a skill issue" as the years go by. All bets are off after Jason's return, and the Titans Tower Incident™. At that point it's firmly "I am better than you, loser" lmao.

And... that's all without getting too into things like authorial intent and general "moods" of different DC writers towards Jason at a given point. Or retcons that played a role in his characterization and how other characters talk about him, depending on what "era" you're reading. That's way beyond the scope of this post though!

TLDR; even though young Tim Drake was obsessed with Dick Grayson as Robin, he still looked up to Jason Todd as well. He didn't think of Jason as a cringefail loser until later. :)

(image dialogue transcripts under cut ↓)

Dialogue Transcript for Image 1 (Detective Comics vol. 1 #618 -- Page 1):

Narration box (Tim): When Gotham needed him, he was there. When the Batman needed him, he was there. He was a hero.

Dialogue Transcript for Image 2 (Detective Comics vol. 1 #618 -- Page 2):

(Scene continued from previous page)

Narration box: But he was nothing special, really. Just a boy, who was taught--trained--brought to his full potential by someone who knew how. Just a boy... like me. I know I can do it. I know I can. One day I'll be as good as Jason. One day I'll wear the suit. One day I'll be a hero.

Dialogue Transcript for Image 3 (Batman vol. 1 #455 -- Page 13):

Tim: I hate him! I hate him! I know why they do it now. Why they put on the suits, and the masks, and go out into the night. They're angry. Full of rage. They want to hit back. They want to fill the hole that's burning inside them.

Bruce: There's more to it than that, son. Much more.

Tim: I know. It's just--I feel--like going to Haiti myself and strangling that creep with my bare hands!

Bruce: The Obeah Man will spend the rest of his life in a prison hospital. He's history. Forget him! But don't fight against your anger. It's natural. Accept it. Live with it. One day it'll be your friend.

Dialogue Transcript for Image 4 (Batman vol. 1 #455 -- Panels from page 18):

Tim: Because you think my mother's death has upset me too much. Well, it did. But I've taken your words to heart. I can cope. You think my anger will boil over, the way Jason's did. I can assure you, it won't. But that doesn't make any difference, does it? Why can't you have a little faith in me?

Dialogue Transcript for Image 5 (Batman vol. 1 #456 -- Page 14):

Narration box (Tim): Blast it! My head's starting to swim. I'm about ready to give up. I almost wish I'd never heard of Batman and Robin!

Vision Dick: Heroes never give up, Tim.

Vision Jason: You know that.

Tim: Dick--! Jason Todd!

Vision Dick: You're training to fight in a war, Tim. It'll last all your life. No matter what, you have to go on fighting.

Vision Jason: Drop-outs don't make it. And dead heroes are no use to anyone! I thought I knew better than Batman. I thought I could run before I could walk. I killed myself, Tim. Because I couldn't wait. Because I couldn't think it through.

Dialogue Transcript for Image 6 (Batman vol. 1 #456 -- Page 15):

(Scene continued from previous page)

Vision Dick: Think, Tim. Concentrate!

Vision Jason: You can do it.

Both: You can do it!

Tim, waking up: What--? Robin...?

Narration box (Tim): I must have been daydreaming. They're right, though. There's a solution to everything. I can find it! So here I go again... Whim. Caprice. Doing something without forethought.

Dialogue Transcript for Image 7 (Batman vol. 1 #456 -- Panel from page 9):

Narration box (Tim): The suit is magic. It gives you power. It hides your weakness. It makes you give it everything you've got. It makes you a hero. If only I could!

Dialogue Transcript for Image 8 (Batman vol. 1 #457 -- Page 20):

Bruce: Are you afraid of it?

Tim: No. It isn't fear. It's more... the suit carries so much history. I mean--Dick made it into a symbol the whole world knows. Jason gave his life for it. Failing them--what they fought so hard to build--that's what worries me!

Bruce: I appreciate that, Tim. That costume weighs a whole lot more than any symbol should... and I'd be failing you if I expected you to bear that weight. So... let me know what you think.

Narration box: A mask has a double edged, he said. It hides your own anxiety as it strikes fear into your enemy.

[m00nsbaby]

Already over.

Main Steven Grant x F! reader. ( + Marc Spector x F! Reader)

Part 2. Sleepwalking.

Warnings & tags. ANGTS!! Cheating kinda but not really?, hurt, and all of thaaaat.

Word count. 3.4k

Summary.

We been talking for hours About how we shouldn't talk for hours on end. Kissing after a conversation About how we'd probably be better off as friends. Same time here next weekend Say, "We won't do this again" Make me fall where I stand Only like you can.

It had been a while since Steven and you had accepted your positions in Marc's life. Both of you were external parts of something larger, like small protrusions on a road that led nowhere.

You decided to understand it when you realized the burden Marc had to carry. Khonshu had taken hold of his psyche and shattered it as he pleased, although he was aware of his dissociative identity disorder, he had started to lose control a long time ago and this resulted in Steven finding out in the worst possible way. It was as if life itself had decided to break him in every possible way.

Hadn't he suffered enough already? Steven and you weren't going to take away the last thing he had.

The love of his life. Layla El-Faouly.

You envied her in different ways. Living a life of adventures with the man of your dreams sounded like something out of a book. She was a strong woman and the first in Marc's life, and therefore also in Steven's, but if there was something that broke your heart in half, it was knowing that she was happy with him.

It would be a lie to say that you weren't happy with Steven. He gave you all of himself and loved you in a way he never tried to hide. But for years now, you had been the one picking up the pieces of two broken people and putting them back together. And then, there was Layla, who didn't even know about the existence of her husband's alter ego, enjoying the best part.

The carefree part that stood above all the atrocities of daily life, simply having a nice date or the official title of his wife, with a ring and legal documents.

"Do you miss working at the museum?" Steven's fingers traced your waistline, occasionally pausing to press on the moles peeking beneath the fabric of your short shirt.

"You have no idea how much." You could never tell him how much you appreciated that he didn't lie to you. You knew he comforted Marc by telling him that life was perfect just the way it was.

You were face to face. You admired Steven's face in front of you.

Anyone would think that once the issue of his fake sleep disorder was cleared up, he would look less tired. Although there were still hundreds of nocturnal missions, and Khonshu destroyed the mercenary's body until an exhaustion beyond description, now Steven could sleep a few more hours, the ones where he used to force himself to read until the letters danced before him.

Nothing had changed at all. In fact, you could swear that the dark circles under his eyes were becoming more noticeable.

"I love you, Steven." You said suddenly, resting a hand on his cheek. His skin had always been so soft and delightfully warm.

You brought a smile to his face, the one that momentarily makes you forget that both of you feel that time is running out.

The one that makes you forget the slight resentment you have towards Marc.

"I love you…" He whispered before leaning forward, just enough to brush his lips against yours, a gentle touch as his hand rested on your waist, and his thumb traced circles on your bare skin.

He wasn't lying; Steven never lied.

You spent the rest of the afternoon kissing and chatting about what had happened during the week you couldn't see each other. You asked about Layla as you always did, he shrugged, and you wondered if he felt the same resentment towards her that you felt towards Marc.

"The idea of vegan hot wings is stupid," you laughed as you bit into the vegetable in your hand, the one that was trying to deceive you and pass for something else.

"The sauce tastes good!" Steven laughed with you, playfully pushing you with his shoulder. To hell with sitting face to face in restaurants; if your bodies weren't close enough, neither of you were comfortable.

"It's a fraud."

"It's delicious." Seeing you take another bite was enough to feel that he was right without you explicitly saying it.

"Do you want to come to my apartment later?" You sucked your thumb to clean the sauce from it. "Yesterday, I accidentally stumbled upon a garage sale and bought the dumbest movie I've ever seen, I got it for us. It's called Rubber, and it's about a homicidal car tire."

Under any other circumstances, Steven would have laughed with you, but he gave you that look that you already knew too well.

"I'm sorry, love." Suddenly, the fake wings didn't look so appetizing. "Marc is feeling better."

Ah. That.

That was the signal that he would be spending the night with Layla.

"That's fine." You nodded immediately, and you also felt disgusted with the food in your hand.

How much longer could you go on like this?

After a few seconds of silence, you cleared your throat. You had some time to come up with a change of conversation.

"What happened to your hand?" Your index finger touched Steven's injured knuckles.

"Marc didn't keep the suit on long enough; the larger wounds healed, but the rest didn't." He never lied, although this might be the exception. A minor injury to prevent a bigger one; he wouldn't ruin his life over a trivial matter.

You nodded slowly, planted a kiss on his shoulder, and continued with your attempt at a date, which was going perfectly until you remembered where you were standing.

The truth was that the night before, Steven had had a fight with Marc, one of those that hadn't happened since they threatened not to switch bodies back to each other.

"Are you two together, Steven?" He was about to explode, about to go crazy. This was the last thing he needed right now, adding more lies and involving more people. "I already told you, no!" Ever since you considered the possibility that Marc might find out, you had decided that if it was a panic situation, you would opt for the most efficient plan: Deny, deny, deny, deny. "Don't lie to me, not to me!" He never yelled; he was the calculating, quiet, and careful type, but even he had a breaking point, and if Steven was going to shout, then he would too. "Do you think I'm stupid, Steven?" It's funny because he hadn't had any doubts until a few weeks ago, so maybe he was a bit stupid, but he wouldn't say it out loud. "No, no, but…" "But?" "We're not together, Marc; she's my best friend." The second part was at least not a lie. He exhaled heavily and mentally thanked for being in front because dealing with anger, panic, and fear without having control over your body was a nightmare he had experienced before. Why did he ever buy so many mirrors? Marc's accusing gaze followed him around the apartment. "And you like her," Steven completed, another thing that wasn't a lie. "If I lose Layla because of you two, I swear I'll…" Adrenaline rushed through him; he lost control of his hand, which ended up against one of the mirrors, breaking it into a thousand pieces. "Marc!" The other didn't say anything, he watched from the reflection of some glass pieces as Steven's hand now bled, and tears filled his eyes. His body was used to large doses of pain, but emotionally, he wasn't used to seeing himself bleed or handling loud noises well. "We. Are. Not. Together." It was the last thing he said as he stretched his fingers and watched the blood flow between them. Marc was no longer in the reflection. He didn't want to object.

"Will I see you the day after tomorrow?" You could still see him tomorrow, but the idea of him coming to your place smelling of Layla's citrusy perfume always disgusted you. It was as if an extra day would be enough to erase any traces of her from his body.

"The day after tomorrow, without fail." Steven knew; he didn't question you. He placed a kiss on your forehead.

"I love you, Steven."

"I love you, sweetheart."

Receiving calls or visits at midnight was always terrifying, especially when you knew your partner was constantly at risk, and this time was no exception.

The strong knocks on the door woke you up, and knowing it could be no one else but him, you opened the door without hesitation. Clad only in Steven's shirt that barely covered your thighs, with messy hair and half-closed eyes because the hallway light bothered you in the darkness.

Marc's tearful eyes met yours, along with the strong aroma of whiskey that Steven had told you about before, the one that stung his nose.

"Are you okay?" It was the first thing you said as he analyzed you from head to toe. He hated you, hated that you looked so good in the middle of the night, and hated that he felt a sense of ownership just from seeing you in a shirt that was originally his.

He didn't answer, he walked straight into your apartment, and you could only step aside to let him pass.

The way he walked past the sofas to sit on the floor was frightening; you had spent time with Marc during bad moments, but you had never seen him like this. You didn't say anything, didn't press, you just walked behind him and sat down beside him on the cold floor.

Your mere presence was enough for his eyes to fill with tears again.

"I didn't know where to go," he whispered, breaking your heart into a thousand pieces with just a few words.

"Oh, Marc." You knelt beside him to have better access to his body, and within seconds, you had your arms wrapped around him, holding him close. "I'm here, calm down."

You didn't get more words from him for a while, just sobs and those annoying chest contractions you get when you try to breathe through crying. You could even feel the fabric of your shirt damp at the shoulder level from his tears.

"I'm scared." His voice was broken, trembling.

"I'm here." You repeated as you held him tighter.

He didn't have the strength to tell you. He was afraid of you. Afraid of the dreams where he saw himself with you, afraid of the way his heart raced the few times you crossed paths, afraid of losing Layla because of his feelings, and afraid of change.

He was terrified of the mere idea of his life changing completely again.

You played with his curls and stayed on your knees until they hurt, with him in your arms whimpering like a little kid.

"Let's go to bed, Marc." He didn't resist, and you led him by the hand.

Nor did he object when you helped him get rid of his clothes just so he could sleep a little better. He almost felt guilty about how comfortable he seemed to be in your bed.

You hugged him from behind, your two hands resting on his chest where you could feel the beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his breath. Your cheek enjoyed the warmth of his back.

When you woke up, there were no traces of Marc anymore.

"Meanwhile, Osiris' wife, Isis, searched tirelessly for his body and then…" The way you were looking at the ground while walking had caught Steven's attention for quite a while, but he didn't confirm his suspicions until he noticed you weren't participating in his narration as you always used to do. "Lovey?"

"Huh?"

"You seem distracted today."

"I'm sorry, I, it's just…" You cleared your throat while forcing a small smile on your face.

"Do you like it here?" He interrupted to finally point out an area in the park that seemed perfect for your plan. You immediately nodded with that fake smile, and both of you sat down carefully on the grass. You placed the book you had been carrying in one hand aside.

Steven handed you your ice cream and kept his own in the other hand.

"Can we talk?"

"Nothing good ever comes out of that, I've seen it in movies." Steven tried to joke, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him sick to his stomach. Slowly, he rested his head on your lap.

Your hand, as if drawn by a magnet, went straight to his tousled curls. He closed his eyes and smiled; you had always compared that gesture to a puppy seeking more affection.

"We can't keep doing this to Marc, love." Your voice broke as you gave him those caresses he loved so much. "Nor to Layla, it's not fair to them."

Steven was looking at you again, with a terrified expression and a slight pout on his lips.

"And is it fair to us?" he snapped. Needless to say, both of you had long stopped paying attention to your sad ice creams; they were already melting into the grass.

"If Layla finds out, we'll ruin Marc's life." You tried to be the rational one between both of you, but with Steven's puppy eyes fixed on you, it was almost impossible to think clearly.

"And if we end… this, mine will be destroyed." Well, he had a point. "Please." His two hands went to your cheeks and pressed them gently, his forehead now resting against yours. "We can't. You can't." His lips claimed yours within seconds, and you could only respond as if life were slipping away.

Whom were you fooling? You were selfish enough to give in. After all, every night you created scenarios where Layla found out and left Marc, knowing that it would destroy him, but in your scenarios, you were there to comfort him, to prevent him from falling apart.

"I love you, Steven." You didn't get a response, but you didn't need to hear it; feeling the strength with which he held you was more than enough.

You were all he had, and he was all you had.

Life was better when you both pretended to have a life that wasn't yours. When you fantasized and made plans for a future you would both do anything to have.

"What do you think of that one?" You both looked like kids with your foreheads pressed against the glass that separated you from the kittens.

"They say the orange ones are crazy, lovey." The fact that Steven was just as interested as you in this fed your good mood entirely. "How about that one?"

"I like his or her fur." You pressed your index finger against the glass to try to get the attention of the kitty that was completely distracted playing with another.

"Love, love, love." He nudged you with his shoulder, making you laugh, so you looked at the opposite side, another part of the store.

You gasped.

"THAT ONE?" You had to cover your mouth when the tone of your voice caught the attention of other people in the place.

There was only one cat in the area reserved for senior cats. You knew it was harder for them to get adopted compared to the kittens, it was as if he was destined to be there.

"It's just a baby." You pouted slightly as you pulled Steven's hand, both walking straight towards the spot where the little cat was staring at you.

He was white, although half of his body was covered in black spots, reminiscent of a cow's fur. When you got closer, you noticed that the tip of one of his ears was missing.

Love at first sight.

"Hiya, mate." The guy next to you was as enchanted as you with the animal. "Uhm, what do you say?" He tilted his head towards the glass. The meow completed his performance. "Look how curious, he says he's looking for new parents."

You laughed, genuine happiness coursing through you. You didn't give Steven time to react before jumping into his arms; he lifted you a few inches off the ground in the middle of the hug.

You didn't care about drawing attention. In fact, having witnesses to your love made it feel more real, reminding you that it wasn't just a product of your imagination.

After he kissed your lips, you could feel the ground under your feet again. You couldn't stop smiling.

"Come on, let's fill out the form." Steven's heart was about to burst with love at any moment.

The instructions were clear: fill out the corresponding paperwork, a few days of socialization with the cat to make sure he felt comfortable with you, and by the following week, he would be yours.

"We'll come to see you, okay? And then we'll go home."

"See ya, buddy." Steven said his goodbye too. "Next week, you'll have the best home, the comfiest bed, and the best parents, I promise."

"What's wrong, Marc?" There was something scary about the idea of being alone with him without him being intoxicated or injured. You were taking off your scarf to leave it on a sofa while he watched you from his table, leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest.

It was impossible to read his expression because Marc always seemed tense.

"She knows."

Your heart sank in seconds, and you looked at him in surprise.

"Ah?"

"She knows," he repeated. You swallowed hard, and for a moment, you thought this was one of those silly dreams that sometimes distorted your reality.

"Knows what?"

"Please, don't treat me like I'm stupid." His tone of voice was enough to make you tremble. You immediately looked at the bathroom mirror.

Steven had told you that while one had control of the body, the other could be reflected in different surfaces, but of course, that only worked between them. No matter how much you looked, hoping that Steven would appear to save you, it didn't happen.

You didn't even know if he was aware of what Marc was doing.

"I don't…" Your voice died down slowly, and you refused to get closer to him. "What does she know?"

"About you." He took a step closer, and you felt immobilized. "She thinks you're my lover, like any sane person, she knows nothing about Steven."

You swallowed the lump in your throat as tears filled your eyes.

"You have to tell her, Marc, explain to her she…" He interrupted you in seconds; the way he raised his voice made you flinch.

"'She will understand?' Is that what you want to say?" He was getting closer, and you felt like he was taking your breath away. Why were you suddenly so afraid? "Yes, I'll tell her every damn thing that's wrong with me so that you can be happy."

Ouch.

"I-I'm saying it for you, Marc." Tears were already streaming down your face, and you mentally cursed yourself for the mere idea of showing so much weakness. "She has to know, it's best for you." And it was, of course, but you were resorting to your last resort to not lose Steven too.

And maybe, not lose Marc either.

"You don't know what's best for me, you have no idea." His sarcasm cut deep as he took the last step to confront you.

"Please, please, don't do this." You pleaded through sobs; your hands ended up on his cheeks. "Please." You pulled him closer to you.

He seemed to relax under your touch, at least for a few seconds. Your heart stopped when one of his hands rested on your waist.

"Don't make this harder, you're killing me." He was also begging, even as his forehead pressed against yours.

"We can get through this, Marc." You sniffed. "I promise, we can…"

A kiss. A desperate and painful kiss silenced your words; it was the only one Marc and you would share.

"Go," he whispered against your lips, still planting small kisses on them. "Please, I beg you, go."

And that was the final nail to seal the coffin between you both.

His hand made you take a step back, a very gentle push.

"I'm choosing her." He knew you better than he'd like, knowing that you wouldn't stop insisting unless he caused you permanent harm. Besides, how could he convince himself he wasn't in love with you if he didn't do this?

You looked at him incredulously, not believing his act, but there was nothing else you could do.

This time, you begged that Steven was present to hear everything that had transpired between you both because you wouldn't have the strength to end it after this. In fact, you didn't even know if you'd have the strength to live without him.

You didn't say anything more, you didn't look back at him, and he didn't change his mind. You left his apartment, leaving your scarf on his sofa as a final reminder of your presence in his life.

sorry, i got tired of happy endings

Part 2. Sleepwalking.

[thenightling]

Tumblr has discovered The Sandman...

Tumblr has discovered Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman.   Here are some of the examples of proof of that discovery.  The good and the not-so-good.

1.   The Corinthian (A nightmare entity) has been referred to as a “Blorbo.”  Based on my understanding of the meaning of the word I am pretty certain The Corinthian probably should not be your Blorbo.  But then again you might be into that sort of thing.  I’ve seen some strange things in the Horror movie slasher fandoms.  Just know that if he was real it would probably not be safe to think of him as your Blorbo.

2.  The Corinthian has been called Cori and Cory respectively.   And so it begins...

3.  Morpheus has been referred to as a poor little “Meow Meow” and not while in his cat form.  And yes, I know he fits the criteria for the term.  It’s just this was the first time I’ve seen him called it without it being literally related to his cat form.   You have truly made it in the world of Tumblr when they start calling your character a Blorbo or Poor LIttle Meow Meow.  Whatever happened to Woobie?   I would think Morpheus would fit under “Woobie.”   

4.   I have seen Tom Sturridge (Morpheus’s Netflix actor) referred to as a DILF.  (Dad I’d like to ...have fun with).   As the term is usually reserved for older men, and I, myself, am forty, and Tom Sturridge is a few years younger than I am, this term usage came as a surprise to me. It turns out some fans are using the term quite literally as Tom Sturridge literally is a father.  I was used to the term being used specifically in regard to age.

5. Morpheus has been compared to a Disney Princess.

6.   A scene from the source material has been taken out of context to make the character look more like an asshole than he actually is even though there are plenty of real asshole moments as the character is on a long redemption arc.

The scene in question is when Matthew the Raven says “Penny for your thoughts.” And Morpheus responds with “You have no pennies, Matthew.”  Later Morpheus offers Matthew a literal penny in exchange for him voicing his thoughts.  Morpheus being too literal is what is happening here. Context matters.

7.  There are people trying to bluff having read The Sandman without having actually read The Sandman to try to gain clout in the fandom.   It’s okay to have not read it yet, guys. It’s a great read. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.  Go have fun.  I promise it’s not as difficult as some people make it out to be.

Someone genuinely tried to argue with me that the “White haired version of Morpheus” was not created by Neil Gaiman and was created long after he was done writing The Sandman.  If you have read The Sandman you would understand how wrong this is. 

Don’t try to bluff having read The Sandman if you have not.  We can tell.  We can always tell.  

8.  There are gatekeepers trying to intimidate new readers into thinking there’s nothing whimsical in The Sandman and that it’s “So deep” and “you won’t get it the first time you read it.  You have to read it a few times to understand it.”

Yes, there is darkness in The Sandman. It’s part dark fantasy / part Gothic Horror with moments of gore but there are light things too.   Don’t discourage new readers.   I promise the story isn’t as hard to get into as some people make it out to be. I know terms like “Classic” can make some people chafe.  Just give it a try.  If you don’t like the first issue, try the second. If you don’t like the second, keep going until at least issue four.  If you still don’t like it after issue 4, it’s okay to stop.  No one will judge you.  If you don’t like comic books, try the audio drama, it’s divided into chapters like a novel.  Each issue being a chapter.   If you don’t like it after chapter four, that’s okay.  You’ll know if you like it or not by then. 

9.  There is already fan art of Tom Sturridge as Morpheus in funny / ridiculous scenarios.  No picture is given here as I did not get permission from the artists to share them yet.

10. There are already people complaining about the casting without having watched the show yet. One faction claiming the casting is “too woke” while another faction seemed concerned that it’s not inclusive enough even though Desire is nonbinary and pansexual, Death is a black woman, Rose and Unity are black women, Ruthven Sykes is a black man, Lucienne is a black woman who wears spectacles, Lucifer (who has no set gender or even sexual reproductive organs) is being played by a woman, Alexander Burgess is gay, The Corinthian is gay, Johanna Constantine is bisexual, Cain and Abel are South Asian...      

There even seem to be politically charged rants complaining because the English language show, with an English cast, written by an English writer, has a lead actor with an English accent...

So what do I have to say about Tumblr discovering The Sandman? 

Well..

 Welcome to the Sandom!  

You’re in for quite a ride.   And don’t put your fingers too close to The Corinthian’s face.  Just... Don’t.

[carmendeiact2whenplz]

Things we don’t know about Old Mondstadt (that Hoyoverse refuses to tell us)

Aka things that haunt me (and probably many other old mondstadt fans)

(keep in mind- not all of these may be entirely unanswerable as of now, some have partial/vague canon answers, while some may have completely canon yet relatively obscure answers)

(for the sake of making things easier to write, i will refer to venti’s dead friend/the nameless bard as “nb” and the red haired warrior as “rhw”, and specifically wisp venti as “wispti”, and i will be referring to the group of wispti, nb, rhw, gunnhildr, and amos (and maybe decarabian too if he’s relevant in that context) as the “old mond gang”)

Note- lots of paragraphs ahead

1- why is nb nameless? does he just… not have a name? does he have a name that he either intentionally or unintentionally kept secret? did he have a name that he used openly and oftenly, but it was forgotten by history as time went on? if anything, did he at least have some sort of nickname people used for him (so we can stop calling him “some nameless guy or smth idk”)?

2- While nb being, well, nameless, may be a bit more justified, what about rhw? did he also have some sort of name? would calling him “ragnvindr” (or similar) be entirely un-canon? did he at the very least have some sort of code name/nickname?

3- what is the timescale of the rebellion? did it take weeks, months, years? decades? how long ago did thoughts of revolution start in old mondstadt? were the people always unhappy, or did old mond use to be a better place?

4- what is nb’s role in the rebellion? did he start it? is he just a leader in general? or is he just there for the moral support? was he on the front lines or in the distance, playing his lyre to rally the troops? is he a strategist? has he ever directly fought anyone on the opposing side?

5- actually, how old is nb anyway? pretty sure most people agree that the rest of the old mond gang are adults (not wispti but like. i’ll touch more on that later), but i’ve seen stories/theories/headcanons about how old nb was (at the time of death) ranging from around 14 to 23 years old- that is not a small range by any means. (according to a poll i made a while ago, 16 was the most common answer on what people thought their age was (my headcanon too), but there was definitely a lot of range in the answers)

6- If Amos and Decarabian’s romantic relationship is so toxic (for lack of a better word), how any why did they get together in the first place? Did amos enter the relationship aware decarabian was against some of the things she wanted most in life? did she enter the relationship purely to try to “fix” him? was he abusive towards her, or was it just a lack of attention/affection/caring about other things more than her? or was it that he never loved her/was attracted to her romantically at all? were they still in a relationship even until the very end, or did they eventually split up when they both knew they would have to fight eachother and that things wouldn’t work out between them?

7- according to the “biography of gunnhildr” book (i think that’s the name), it says they worshipped the wind spirit barbatos and treated it like a deity, while other sources say wispti was nameless and was like. just kinda there. is one of them the truth, or both, or neither?

8- does wispti have arms and/or legs of any kind? can he talk/communicate with people? if so, how does he go about doing so?

9- it’s implied in “a drunkard’s tale” (an ingame book) that the wind spirit that transformed into a fox and helped create wine is the same wind spirit as well. wispti. if that means wispti can shapeshift, to what extent can he do it? can he even become a human/humanoid (not to the same detail and/or time extent that modern venti/barbatos can do so but still)? if so, how does that impact his relationship with nb and/or the rest of the old mond gang?

10- how long did the members of the old mond gang know eachother? did most of them meet in relation to the rebellion, or did some of them know eachother before they got to that point?

11- what is the order of events between amos dying, nb dying, decarabian dying, barbatos getting the gnosis, barbatos taking nb’s form, the end of the fighting, and rhw leaving/abandoning (for lack of better words) everyone? how much time took place between all those happening?

12- what exactly are the purposes of the tower? is it just a living space/government building for decarabian and amos, or is there more to it? did other people live in the tower too? if the circular ruins/symbols seen in the tower present-day were also there back then, why and how are they there? are the light actuators in the tower related to anything involving decarabian’s power/immortality and/or the storm wall?

13- how impenetrable is the storm wall, really? is everything restricted from going in or out, or are some people able to move freely? what is the immigration/emigration rate of the city? how often are things imported and exported? does the wall have any intended purpose other than for keeping the blizzard out?

14- how did amos get her bow? why is it so (hypothetically) powerful? where did she get it and how did it “retain its power” to this day?

15- how “old” is wispti? he could theoretically be any “age” between “manifesting into existence shortly before his first interaction with nb” and 14 billion years old/as old as time itself(and you thought nb’s theoretical age range was large.) how much did wispti truly know before getting involved with the rebellion? was he technically a toddler (in terms of knowledge/mentality), or does he actually have thousands of years of knowledge?

16- to what extent did the imunlaukr (i probably spelled that wrong) and lawrence clans participate in the old mondstadt rebellion? were they involved at all? should the old mond gang be eventually expanded to include more people? (lawrence, venerare, etc)

17- HOW DID DECARABIAN LOOK LIKE? HOYOVERSE PLEASE. IF YOU WONT GIVE US HIS FULLBODY DESIGN WITH MULTIPLE POSES AND FACIAL EXPRESSIONS AT LEAST GIVE US SOME CRUMBS ABOUT HIS APPEARANCE (how tall he was, hair color, outfit style, special accessories he wore, weapons he used, etc)

18- what is the relationship of the old mond game to eachother? were they friends? found family? or were things far more complicated than that? (and what was their reaction to knowing amos, one of their biggest allies, was also the lover/partner of their (the old mond gang’s) enemy?

19- did some of the genshin weapons with lore relations to old mondstadt actually get used during old mondstadt? (aka did nb get to use freedom-sworn as an actual combat weapon)

I probably left out a lot of things so i may go back later to edit, but there are just. SO many things hoyoverse keeps behind the lore basement. If anyone would like to add onto this list, or provide personal headcanons and/or canon answers to the things mentioned here, i highly reccomend doing so.

@honorary-fool @amarisrosalette @gierosajie @lanternlightss @arson-n-quwubilder @littleblueberryartist @lilyandthegenshinbrainrot @elysianheresy

@goyayato @lordofthetower @nellfe-the-feral-creature @thatonenerdinyourclassroom

@yume-shirokuro

(if anyone tagged would not like to be tagged, please let me know)

[sc0tters]

Out of It | Mat Barzal

summary: as your relationship with Tito finally hits a breaking point, what happens when Mat is there to pick up your pieces?

request: yes/no

warnings: cheating, failed relationship, drinking, allusions to sex, swearing.

word count: 3.2k

authors note: Kei said I could use the chaotic ending so I did, probably means we’re gonna have to have a part 2 (let me know if you want it). Request said something sad for Tito but happy for Mat and this is what my mind came up with. I actually enjoyed writing this one a lot so I hope you all enjoy reading it! But also don’t cheat on your partners, that’s very fucked up!

part two | part three

Things hadn’t been good for months.

When Anthony was first traded to the Canucks your boyfriend of three years always just assumed that you would join him. But you didn’t, your entire working career was spent in New York building up the your name and you weren’t ready to leave it for some city in Vancouver without the guarantee of a job waiting for you.

That seemed to be the first sign that things were changing as the boy took it as you not loving him.

Tito slammed his hands against your kitchen counter “do you ever support me in this move?” The man groaned in frustration making you taken aback by his outburst.

The accusation hurt you “of course I do.” You yelled back making his irritated tone “the fact that you think I’m gonna pack my life up at the drop of a hat makes me question how you feel about me though.” You crossed your arms sending him a glare.

This argument had gone on for the last fifteen minutes and there was still no clear sign of the end of this argument “look I can’t live in Vancouver but I can split my time between the two cities.” You offered growing tired of the way this was continuing to drag on.

But Anthony didn’t like that offer, in fact that almost felt worse than you just staying in New York “don’t bother.” He sighed pushing past you.

The hockey player moved towards the door “where are you going?” You croaked feeling your throat grow tight “I’ll spend the night with Mat.” Anthony sighed grabbing his shoes from the rack.

Your feet pulled you to the door “we don’t go to bed angry,” you reminded him “you promise.” Tears began rolling down your cheeks as you felt like you were loosing the love of your life “I’ll be back in the morning.” The boy mumbled kissing your forehead.

His lips left their print on your skin before he walked out of the apartment leaving you alone.

You two never actually spoke about that argument again, instead just choosing to ignore the fact that for the first time since you two moved in together Anthony didn’t sleep at home when he was in New York.

It felt like it was meant to be the one anomaly in your relationship or at least until February hit. Valentine’s Day you were meant to be in Vancouver with flights booked and everything but when a last minute meeting came up you had to pull out. Much to the annoyance of Anthony though.

Thinking you were doing the right thing you told him to go enjoy the dinner reservations he made. But after your long day of work when you came home the last thing you expected to see was the rumour mill that twitter made talking about how Anthony had a new girlfriend.

She was taller than you and looked like a blonde supermodel. Through frustration you grumbled something to yourself before you dialled in your boyfriends number “hey y/n!” Anthony was always good about picking up on the first or second ring “yeah I’ll be done in a sec,” he added clearly talking to someone on his side of the call.

You never liked admitting that you felt insecure in your relationship, but how could you not when you were with some hotshot hockey player? It also wasn’t helped by the fact that he lived 3 hours behind you and in a different country “don’t tell me she’s there,” you choked on the words as tears formed in your eyes.

Anthony clicked his tongue hearing the soft whimper you let out “who baby?” His nickname always had you melting into his hand but now you felt repulsed by it “that girl-“ your eyebrows knitted together as you thought the boy was playing tricks on you acting all oblivious.

The hockey player cut you off “told you that Twitter isn’t good for you.” His reminder felt condescending as you sat down feeing like you were having his lecture in person “why are they all talking about it?” Your voice was soft as you wiped your cheek with the back of your hand to clean the tears away from you.

He almost forgot he was on the phone to you as he stared at the girl who was on his couch pointing at her watch to signal that they were late “when she realised that we both had no plans tonight I said she should come with me.” Tito explained leaving you silent as he wasn’t denying that he spent the night with this bombshell of a girl “she’s just a friend though baby you got nothing to worry about.” Somehow his attempt to comfort you only made your nerves stick out more.

You tried to formulate a coherent sentence as you felt stupid for getting all upset “look I’ve got a few days off next week, why don’t I come see you?” He proposed causing that stupid love drunk smile to form on your face “I’d like that a lot.” You nodded missing your boyfriend now more than ever.

From the moment he arrived in New York you two could feel that something was different. As you invited some of his favourite old teammates over for dinner you felt relieved that you weren’t having to spend the night alone with him.

But of course that sense of peace had to be disturbed “baby why don’t you leave those for the morning?” You asked seeing Anthony’s back towards you as you entered the kitchen.

If there was one thing that usually fixed your problems it was sex. Sure that sounded stupid and like you were both teenagers, but as a couple your favourite way to end even the smallest of fights as with sex.

Which is why you thought it was the fix this problem needed “I want to wake up to a clean kitchen.” The Canadian always felt this rewarding feeling whenever he got to see an empty set of sinks in the morning.

You decided to try a little harder as you walked over to him “think I’ve got something a little more fun for you to do before that though.” You mumbled letting your hands slide up the front of his shirt.

That only seemed to piss him off “Jesus y/n let me finish the fucking-” the moment he began lashing out you stepped back keeping your lips shut until he spun around to look at you.

It didn’t take his eyes long to make their way down your body as you tied the string around your robe up clearly deciding that it wasn’t right for tonight “oh,” Anthony’s voice was soft as he realised that you were wearing his favourite lingerie.

The set was something you bought when he was on a long road trip once and you sent him pictures of each set you tried on in the store and when he picked the blue set you went to the airport to pick him up in a coat with nothing on underneath besides for that new set “forget it.” You rolled your eyes now feeling embarrassed as you turned around heading back to your bedroom where you sat on your bed for fifteen minutes waiting for him to come after you.

But he never did and you felt like an idiot.

April came around and you were now onto month four of feeling like something was wrong but you never felt confident enough to talk to Anthony about it so instead you let your relationship get to the worst it had ever been. Excuses were made each time one of you was meant to see the other and as the time between phone calls grew, the amount of fight you put up to see the other person decreased.

Tonight you were going out with some of the guys from the Islanders team. Mat invited you along as they were celebrating their place in the playoff “I know they are your friends.” You rolled your eyes at the phone call as Anthony couldn’t understand how his best friend invited you along.

It was somewhat amusing because Mat was the one who introduced you to your boyfriend “I’m going to support the boys okay?” You heard a knock at the door making you open it.

A smile formed on your face seeing older Canadian as you ushered him inside motioning to him to keep quiet as you were on the phone “yes I’ll let you know when I’m home.” It sounded like you were talking to a parent rather than your boyfriend.

Mat made himself comfortable on your couch as his spread his legs leaning into the soft fabric “I’m going to go now.” And with that you hung up. It irritated you how the first time he called you in over a month was because one of his old teammates mentioned that he was seeing you tonight “you okay kid?” Mat asked furrowing his eyebrows.

Despite the fact that there was only a two year age gap between you both when he met you, you were a freshman in college in your Maple Leafs jersey as you willingly spent your morning in a cafe arguing with the Islander player about how the Canadian team was better. Mat would never admit this to you or Anthony but he thought you were hot, that’s why he invited you to the game when the Maple Leafs came to visit. Why he scored a goal and pointed right up to the box where you sat, but even more so why he scored three goals. But no matter how hard Mat tried to impress you, it was no match against Anthony’s soft smile that he sent you making you weak in the knees.

You sighed sitting next to him “Tito is mad at me again.” You mumbled fiddling with the bracelet that the older boy gave you for your twenty first, the piece of jewellery that you now never take off.

Mat slipped his hand onto your knee giving it a squeeze “don’t worry about him.” The Canadian wanted to act like his crush on you had diminished over the years but when you called him in tears because you realised that you were drowning your sorrows in too much Chinese food for one person to ear during Anthony’s first night in Vancouver. The speed Mat drove across the city going through each red light told him otherwise.

Having him around always comforted you “think I just need to let loose tonight.” You mumbled running your hand through your hair pushing it back unintentionally revealing your collar bones that were highlighted by the low cut of your dress “finally give you a reason to keep up with me.” Mat always drank faster than you as you wrote it down to his lack of a college career where he never got the chance to grow out of it.

You rolled your eyes letting out a laugh “think you’ll be keeping up with me tonight.” You mumbled looking down at your phone to see the time “we’re late,” you groaned quickly getting up. Mat followed your actions with a smile “only means we have to make up for the lost time.” He pointed out making you laugh.

Oh how pretty that sound was.

The bar was packed full of players and their partners with you being the only plus one without a romantic connection to the team. You had practically drunk your way through the bar as the wags believed that you were making up for lost time after you turned down each of their offers to join them on girls night since Anthony left. It was stupid sure, but you always felt out of place when you were with them, so you thought that you’d feel worse without your boyfriend there.

But instead you surprisingly felt like you fitted in as Mat’s arm snaked around your waist “you want another one?” He asked motioning to your empty glass.

The girls had smirks on their faces as they watched your cheeks turn pink feeling his breath on your neck “I’ll come!” You blurted out making them bite the inside of their cheeks to hold in the giggles.

Whilst everyone thought you would marry Anthony, it made all of the girls happy to see you smile and until you or Mat did anything that crossed a line. They didn’t see the point in telling Anthony that his friend was taking care of his girlfriend.

Because to them everything that Mat and you did was friendly, the touches, the smiles, the looks. But what none of them knew was how each of your heart rates increased at the mere thought of the other. Mat locked his hand into yours as he pulled you through the crowd “two refills please.” He asked the bartender with his signature smile.

When the hockey player turned to you he realised you had been staring “what are you thinking about kid?” Mat’s voice was soft as he sat you in the barstool in front of him “how bad would it be if we left?” You cocked your head staring at his Hazel orbs that seemed to be locked into your soul.

Your question made Mat laugh “you had enough?” He frowned wanting to have more of your company for longer. You were quick to shake your head “no of course not,” your cheeks turned pink as you panicked “I just want ice cream and some vodka right now.” The pairing was weird but it seemed to be the only thing going through your mind “well it’s a good thing that I have both of those in my apartment then isn’t it?” His comment made your eyes light up with excitement.

Without thinking he held his hand out to you “they’re all so drunk I don’t think they’ll notice us leave.” Mat mumbled causing you to nod as he pulled you out of the bar somehow without anyone noticing.

During the drive back to his you remained fairly quiet as the Uber driver continued to talk to Mat about what it was like being a hockey player “I’m telling you I think he loves you.” You got the words out between your fit of giggles.

Mat groaned shaking his head “was nervous to have such a pretty girl in his car.” The boy shot back shoving his spoon back into the Häagen-Dazs ice cream container as he ignored the workout he was going to have to do tomorrow.

His compliment made your stomach do flips “think he’d be more affected by you,” you shook your head taking a sip of the expensive vodka that he had given you to drink “if he was gay-“ before you could swallow you let out a laugh resulting in a cough from you.

The hockey player grew alarmed watching your face turn red “you okay?” All you could do was nod until your throat calmed down “you care about me.” You teased rubbing your elbow with his as you smiled.

As much as Mat tried to ignore how he felt about you it was no longer working “of course I do.” The Canadian wanted to scoff that you would ever even consider to think that he didn’t.

But what he didn’t expect as your eyes locked with his was that you would lean forward to kiss him. At first Mat melted into the kiss as this was something he always wanted but as you moved to his lap he was reminded of the fact that you weren’t his “what about Tito?” Mat gasped forcing himself to feel guilty about the situation. Your lips formed a frown “he doesn’t love me anymore Mat,” you shook your head as tears formed in your eyes “and I don’t love him.” It was the first time you had ever actually said that out loud.

Yet it was all true, the fire that was once burning underneath your relationship turned to an occasional spark that had gone into hiding for the last few months. Mat stared at your soft facial expression “why don’t you leave him?” He asked furrowing his brows “don’t want to be alone.” Your confession made you seem week.

Truthfully though you had grown used to Anthony’s company and you were scared to see if you could survive without a boyfriend in your life “you aren’t alone.” Mat sighed tracing his finger along your jaw letting his thumb settle on your lip.

Maybe it was the alcohol talking but if he showed you that he was here for you then maybe you’d leave Anthony for good “prove it to me then baby.” You pushed your lips back into his as the boy walked the two of you to his room letting your body hit his mattress.

Mat was finally going to have his way with you.

The next morning.

You let out a groan as you heard a loud knock at the door “baby go get it,” you grumbled wanting to go back to sleep “fine.” Hearing Mats voice from beside you had the events of last night quickly falling back into your head.

Somehow though the boy seemed calmer about it all as he sent you a smile “could get used to this.” You were wearing one of his old Islanders shirts, the first time you were wearing a piece of merch from the team that wasn’t from Anthony.

It reminded you of the fact that you still had a boyfriend but here you were in his best friends bed covered in hickies whilst he was covered in scratches “you should answer the door.” You pushed your hair out of your face as you began to feel sick. You weren’t upset about last night, you loved the reminder of feeling what it was like to be loved.

To put it simply you felt bad that you had done it to a guy like Anthony, your mother raised you better than that “I’ll send them on their way and then we can talk about last night.” Mat wasn’t an idiot, he could see that you weren’t thinking about Anthony by the way you stared at the promise ring on your finger that he gave you when he came back in February.

It only took you two months to go ahead and fuck that one up “okay,” you nodded biting the inside of your cheek as you struggled to comprehend how you would talk to Anthony after this.

Your stomach did flips as you stared at yourself in Mats bedroom mirror. In that moment you felt like a horrible person and there was honestly no denying that you were one. Your precious Anthony would never cross a line like the one that you had and you only hoped that you had enough time to fix it before everything was thrown back in your face “what took you so long dude?”

That voice sent a chill down your spine as your eyes went wide with any desire of wanting extra sleep quickly being thrown out of the window.

What the fuck was Anthony doing at Mat’s door?

[ilovebeomkai]

under the stars — choi yeonjun x gn!reader

ෆ synopsis : y/n gets dragged to a party after coming back from studying abroad which leads her to cross paths with the choi yeonjun, but he's a lot sweeter than expected for being known as the party boy.

ෆ genre : fluff

ෆ warnings : none

ෆ wc : 1.8k

ෆ a/n : this is my first time writing so…this is probably really bad but we move unedited & lowercase intended

the view out the window of the plane was gorgeous, the sky painted with hues of deep oranges and light pinks as the sun set over the ocean. While the scenery was breathtaking it wasn’t enough to calm your nerves, you were finally going back to korea after studying abroad for 2 years in the states.

you were happy to be going home, of course you were, after all, your friends and family were all still living here. However you couldn't deny the anxiety and fear bubbling up inside, what if things had changed? Everyone has moved on without you? You just…no longer belonged? eventually, you got lost in your thoughts, mapping out every worst-case scenario before drifting off into a not-so-peaceful slumber.

a few hours later you were awoken due to the bumpy landing of the plane, a storm making it a bit rough but nothing too scary. The rain was strangely comforting, you’d always been someone who enjoyed staying in and reading a nice book with the comforting pitter-patter of raindrops against the window.

you’d just grabbed your luggage from the baggage claim, making your way across the airport when you heard y/f/n calling out to you, “y/n! Over here!” they yelled out whilst running toward you. “Oh my god, it's been forever! I know we’ve kept in touch but it just wasn't the same as having you here, how are you? Was the flight okay? I can’t wait to show you around, and there's a party tonight I can take you to and-”

you loved them but you had to admit all the questions at once were a bit overwhelming, the one thing that caught your attention being the mention of a party. “y/f/n- you know I'm not exactly a party person” you mumbled and they shook their head, “nonsense! You just came back and it’ll be a great way to introduce you to new people!”

you sighed and shook your head as y/f/n rambled on, you knew there was no use in arguing and you weren’t exactly the type to fight back so you simply accepted your fate as the two of you headed to your family’s home to settle in.

after settling in a few hours had passed and you were lying on y/f/n’s bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone as you waited for them to finish showering. “Soooo, about that party-” they started, settling down right next to you on the bed. “I already told you I don’t wanna gooooo” you whined, glancing up at them with an uninterested expression.

after a good 30 minutes of back-and-forth banter between the two of you, you accepted that there was no way out of this. y/f/n had lent you something to wear, as you hadn’t felt what you picked out was quite…party appropriate, and off you went to call a taxi.

the car kept driving for what felt like an eternity, following a windy road up a hill and coming to a stop in front of a house not big enough to be a mansion but big enough to elicit an audible gasp from you.

as soon as your feet crossed the threshold of the home you felt out of place, the loud music, crowded rooms, and overall overwhelming atmosphere was too much. y/f/n seemed to know everyone as she lead you through the sea of bodies, waving and greeting almost every other person. “Come on, you need to let loose!” were the last words you heard from them before they vanished from your sight.

somehow you found yourself wandering to the kitchen, grabbing a drink to occupy your hands to blend in and avoid looking even more out of place than you already felt. Despite your efforts to distract yourself and make the most of the situation the commotion seemed to be growing louder by the minute, unable to withstand the pounding in your head any longer you pushed through the crowd until you saw the moonlight leading you to a balcony.

there you stood, trying to get a breath of fresh air while leaning against the wall in an attempt to calm yourself down. Out of the corner of your eye, you could’ve sworn someone was approaching, but you couldn’t be bothered to double-check. You didn’t know it yet but you’d just caught the attention of the most well-known party boy in the district, choi yeonjun.

“hey there,” yeonjun said, flashing a signature smile as he glanced down at you, “what brings a pretty person like you out here when all the fun is in there?” he chuckled, nodding his head back toward the inside of the house.

“just needed some space…” you mumbled quietly, unable to combat the smile tugging at your lips when you looked up and met his eyes. He could tell that you weren’t quite comfortable going back inside, but something about you was calling to him. “Do you maybe wanna go for a walk or something? It’s a lovely night and I assume you don’t wanna head back in there” he said with a kindhearted laugh.

“actually…that sounds nice” You nodded, that was all it took for yeonjun to grip your hand tightly but gently, leading you back through the sea of bodies and out the back door. The two of you walked aimlessly down the windy road in comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other’s company.

once the two of you reached the foot of the hill yeonjun took notice of the convenience store just down the street, “are you hungry?” he asked, to which you nodded in response. “I could eat right now” you laughed as he tugged you gently in the direction of the convenience store, “let's eat then, and get whatever you want, it's on me” he grinned as he opened the door for you, and followed inside.

your eyes light up immediately at the sight of your favorite snack, immediately grab a bag and continue to browse with it held tightly in your arms. Yeonjun followed behind you, finding the way your eyes lit up adorable.

after a few minutes, you heard Yeonjun’s voice echoing from another aisle, “Oh look! The tteokbokki here is amazing, trust me, do you wanna share some?” he asked, looking over to you with hopeful eyes. You couldn't bring yourself to say no and you did enjoy tteokbokki, “oh my god, yes!” you gasped happily, tteokkbokki had been a comfort food of yours ever since you were a kid and little did you know it was yeonjuns too.

soon you decided you were done and the two of you went up to the counter, everything was rung up and yeonjun led you to a table by the window and sat down. “So, care to tell me about yourself? I don't think I've ever seen you around…and if there's a party I'm always there” he added with a smile.

“well I guess it was obvious but I'm not really a partier, and I just came back after studying abroad so I’m still settling in” she replied nervously, yeonjun carefully taking note of your demeanor as he nodded. You guys began eating as soon as everything was heated up, at first the conversation was slow and minimal but soon enough you found yourselves opening up to each other. An extra 10 minutes turned into an hour until almost 2 hours had passed and you found yourself wondering where the time had gone.

“hmm we should probably head back now, your friend might be worried about you no?” yeonjung asked, tilting his head. Truth be told he didn't want to go back just yet, even 15 more minutes with you would make him ecstatic, but he didn’t want to push his luck. “Yeah I don’t want to worry y/f/n,” you said with a bit of a frown forming on your face. It was obvious that neither of you wanted to be without the other's company, having formed a strong connection in the short time you’d spent together.

it didn't take long for you and yeonjun to reach the party, but much to your surprise it was still going strong and y/f/n was nowhere to be seen.

“why don't we go up to the roof? The sky is pretty clear tonight so we can stargaze, I figure it’ll be a lot better than going back in there right now” he laughed, looking to you for an answer. You thought about it for a few seconds before nodding eagerly, “sounds amazing” you said, on the outside, you seemed indifferent but on the inside, you were thrilled to be able to spend more time with him.

yeonjun lead you up a staircase that lead to the roof, a nice flat surface that the two of you could lay on. “Sit here,” he said softly, patting the space next to him and waiting until you’d settle down next to him. As soon as you sat he laid back and nodded when you glanced at him, wondering if you should do the same.

“it's gorgeous out here right now…” he commented, the stars glittering above the two of you in a vast sea of darkness. You nodded, gazing up with him before excitedly pointing at a whole cluster of stars, “look at the group right there, it's breathtaking” you sighed contently.

before you knew it your eyelids were getting heavier by the minute. Yeonjun glanced over, taking notice and smiling to himself. He’d been stealing glances at you all night long, but you looked especially stunning with the soft glow of moonlight shining down on your face.

he’d only looked away for a few seconds when he turned to point out a constellation to you but was instead met with the sight of your eyes shut tight and your chest rising and falling gently with every breath.

“cute” he mumbled, placing his jacket over you and wrapping one arm around you gently, careful not to wake you. He closed his eyes as well, a stupid grin on his face as he drifted off to sleep as well with the sound of the muffled music echoing all around. He didn’t know even a fraction of what he wanted to about you, but he did know he’d do anything in his power to make you his one day, holding you close as you fell asleep under the stars.

[gojoidyll]

Infinity

Yandere ! Gojo Satoru x Female ! Reader

Part 2 | my childhood friend

Warnings | Gojo is kind of clingy, y/n is shy and has a stutter (at first), grammatical errors, etc.

Notes | this fic will be using she/her pronouns for y/n. Also this is a reincarnation fic, so Gojo's name will not be "Satoru" in this part. And please let me know if you want to be in a taglist for this series !! ^-^

Summary | And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.

Infinity Masterlist

year 1102 AD

GOJO SHIRO was at the tender age of twelve when he regained his past life's memories, and with a sudden burst of excitement he realized that he was indeed living a new life as a reincarnation of his former self. With such news, he immediately set off with such knowledge and past experiences. He knew things as such a young age that baffled many adults. Which was to no surprise to the young Gojo. Though, truthfully, he had no intention of revealing how he had such vast knowledge and instead would give the simple answer of "I like to study when I'm not training." Which was believable to most adults with in the Gojo clan because they would take notice how the young future head of the clan would wander straight towards the clan's sacred library.

Little did they know, however, was that he was actually researching the l/n clan and trying to see if y/n even existed in this time period. And, much to his dismay, he would find that after his first death the l/n clan would have fallen from grace. (Which was very much deserved, mind you.) But now he had no way of finding her, of find y/n, or knowing if was even born yet or even if she would have the last name l/n or the first name y/n.

Because look at Gojo.

Sure, he still has the six eyes. His powerful cursed techniques that he will be expected to hone as he ages. Yet he has a different first name. So the same could be expected of y/n if she got reincarnated as well. But he knew that once he saw her, he would know that it was her. Without a doubt. Mainly because he wholeheartedly believed that when one is reincarnated, their personality stays the same. Their soul never changes. I mean, the only thing about him that changed was his first name for goodness sake! So the same could easily be said about his y/n. Easily.

However ...

"Oh! How frustrating!"

It was still very frustrating.

He slammed the book shut and pushed it aside. His gaze settling onto the nearest wall.

It was clear to him that searching through books on whereabouts of the l/n clan were no longer going to work. If he wanted to find his cute little maid, then he was going to have to leave the Gojo Estate. Simple, right? So, that was exactly what he set out to do. And much to his surprise, no one really stopped him. Probably because he was already at such a high position within the clan as the next head and all.

And thats how he found himself wandering the streets. Many people bustled around him but didn't dare to step in his path for it was easily known as to who he was and how much power he had.

Well, that was until he felt a small tug on his sleeve.

Rolling his eyes, he couldn't believe someone had the audacity to bother him, especially considering how he was busy looking for y/n. Not that whoever was pulling at him to get his attention needed to know that.

"What."

Though the moment that the word left his mouth, his whole body froze up when he had turned to look at the person who was bothering him. His brillant blue eyes fixated on the slightly smaller girl before him.

She looked exactly the same as before.

"Uhm- i- i- I'm so sorry, Lord Gojo! But- but you- i-," she stuttered over her words like a fool. She shut her eyes as she tried to find the right words she wanted to say, "its just.. us kids were going to play a game and- and we were wondering if you want to play with us. We- we know you probably have better things to do.. but but we j- just .. just wanted to be friends since- since w-we saw you pass by and and we never see you out from the estate walls, so..."

She blabbered on. To anyone else, they may have tried to cut her off or shut her up. But to Gojo? He was on cloud nine. In his past life, he only got to see her when she was a teenager, and that was only for a year before her life was taken from him. But now? Now he has a chance to get to know her as a child. They can grow up together, learn about each other at the same pace without someone threatening them. It made a smile stretching across his lips.

"Sure," he said suddenly, "I'll come play with you all. But...only on one condition."

She brightened at first when he agreed to come play but instantly deflated at the condition. He wasn't going to ask for money was he?! Her dirt smudged face and tattered clothes were proof enough of her wealth. So, she really did hope he didn't ask for anything too grand.

"Mmhmm, want to hear the condition?"

She shakily nodded and he basked in her shyness and fear. He found it was really fun to tease her! And he planned on teasing her a lot in the near future.

Booping her on the nose with an index finger, he grinned, "well, its actually two conditions. But don't worry, its within your power to fulfill them easily."

Rubbing her nose, she silently urged him to continue.

"First, I want you to call me Shiro. No more of that lame Lord Gojo crap. And second .. what's your name? You want me to come play with you, but don't offer an introduction? Honestly, I'm hurt."

He faked a pout while laying a hand on his chest. His heart beating rapidly against his palm and he silently hoped she wasn't able to hear it.

She bowed suddenly, "r- right! I'm s- sorry Lord- uhm- I mean! I'm sorry Shiro!"

She straightened back up as a blush coated her (color) cheeks. Her hand shakily jutting out as her feet moved from side to side in a nervous manner.

"I'm y/n and- and I was wondering if you like to come and play with me and my friends.."

His heart did a backflip and he internally swooned. So cute!

He immediately snatched her hand into his own despite her hand being slightly dirty than his clean, pristine one.

"I would love to!"

[deadbeat-motel]

For my rewrite, I wanted to tie each sinner who's staying at the motel to a specific deadly sin to make it easier to understand what got them in hell and just for the fun of it.

It doesn't apply to the rest of hell to have a specific sin, but I thought it was interesting that the inhabitants of the motel will represent a sin.

Some of these characters are still rough ideas and will be subjected to some changes once i finalize the actual lores for these characters:

First up, Angel Dust is easy to confuse as Lust because most people might assume that since he's a sex worker, its probably what got him in hell right? Though, his sin had nothing to do with being lustful since he didnt become a sex worker until then (plus being a sex worker doesnt warrant someone a tacket straight to hell). Instead what really did him in was Gluttony since it was his appetite for vices that got him into trouble and also inadvertently lead to his death and it was that appettite that lead him to take any and all clients to feed his appetite for angeldust.

Nifty's sin is Lust, though not in the traditional sexual sense that we know. For her sin's sake, Lust is all about an uncontrollable desire that leads one to do horrible acts in order to attain what they've been obsessing over. In the rewrite, I was going to let her be a lot younger (most likely an adolescent-young teen) with a very skewed sense of what romance/love is like and have her lean in more towards a yandere-type character or a crappy creepypasta kid character (think Nina the killer levels of crappypasta). I'm torn between the two ideas at the moment.

[Also fun fact, hearing that nifty was a japanese woman from the 1950's kind of took me off because googling it, she wouldve been a woman who grew up in the middle of world war 2 and lived through a bit of the Post war boom if we assumed she's also american as well. Having someone with a background like that who acts like she's mentally a child makes it feel like Viv did no research at all.]

Husk's sin remains as Greed, as gambling just seems so hard to quit for him, even when his life is on the line, especially when he's cheating death so many times. Maybe it was after he had his first close encounter with death in his youth... or the few couple of times during the war... that he began to think of himself as too lucky to die. Unfortunately for him, he'd have to learn the hard way that whatever force that was trying to save him can't do anything about his own body failing from years of self-destructive alcoholism.

[Husk will literally kill me with all the research I'll have to do from 1910-1970 to get his story straight.]

Alastor is one Prideful mf. As an intelligent serial killer (possibly cannibal), he was able to evade the police whilst keeping the high-profile radio host job he killed others for. He enjoyed leaving clues and slipping little hints around his scene that stumped the entire police department. In the end, getting sloppy because of his own overconfidence in his abilities was what did him in and he was chased down and shot by a hunter in his escape.

Sir Pentious is Envious of the Victorian family and those above the middle class. He believed that he deserved to have the same kind of privileges they have especially since he was a brilliant inventor who believed he could forward Great Britain to a greater future. So he gave up 15 years trying to take over the monarchy by himself and failing miserably. He died due to an invention gone wrong and that was the day Great Britain was rid of its persistent annoyance.

[Some people may read about him in history books and confuse him for an anti-monarchist when this man's entire goal was to replace the monarchy with himself.]

Cherri Bomb grew up as a resentful youth of the Japanese 70's being a sukeban of a delinquent girl gang. Their Wrath was known all across the other local schools in their area and they were known for their sheer brutality. However, Cherri Bomb in particular was also feared by other members of the gang as she was ruthless punishing those who wanted to leave the group. She doesn't ever disclose how she died to others and thus no one is ever really sure how she ended up down here but no one really feels the need to ask.

[I'm extremely unfamiliar with Australian history so Cherri Bomb will have to have grown up in Japanese 70-80's delinquent culture.]

.

There's one sin left.... but since I don't really have anyone in the HH cannon that could realistically fit Sloth, I'm left with two options: Characterizing the blank slate that is Crymini myself or leaving the last resident as a community effort "Build-a-Sinner."

So first poll ive done but....

[poraphia]

"Four Medium-Sized Coffees, One Big Fat Work Crush"

lvjy!wilbur x manager!reader 1457 words • 8.9.23 request by @mrssabinecallas! "lead singer will with a manager reader! they book all their performances and bring them coffee every morning, just happy to be there with Will and their friends"

requests are still open!! dont be shy :3 pt. 2 here <-

How to be a good tour manager: 1) Bring them coffee every morning 2) Don't fall in love with the lead singer

♡♡♡

Y’know, when I signed up for this job, I didn’t expect the roller coaster of emotions and action that would come with being an on-tour manager. 

I especially didn’t think I’d end up falling for the lead singer of Lovejoy, William Gold.

I have been a stage director for concerts for a couple of years now since I graduated from university. I worked for different venues, taking up jobs such as being in charge of soundcheck and directing the lights. After years of hard work and a resume of experience, I was finally offered my first opportunity of being an on-tour manager for a rising band that was touring the world.

I have to admit, it was different. I was constantly away from home and on the road. The one thing genuinely battling this homesick feeling was the constant adventure and excitement we faced in every city. From sitting awkwardly in an Uber as the driver told us horrific stories, to running around the late-night streets tasting cuisines we had never heard of before.

I remember on the first day, I was a nervous train wreck. I spent most of that night pacing around my hotel room while occasionally practicing in the mirror how to greet the band, how to talk to them, and how to even shake their hand. It wasn’t until the peak time of 4 AM I decided that I should keep things simple (and that I should probably go to sleep because I had to wake up in three hours).

I met up with the band at our first venue for a soundcheck. When I got the text that they were arriving shortly, I ran to the nearest cafe and ordered four coffees, each with a simple shot of espresso, two scoops of sugar, and a cup of milk. It was basic, and it wasn’t guaranteed it would be something they’d love, but I was far too deep to turn back around and return the coffee. Plus, wouldn’t that be a super awkward situation? Oh, hey Mr. Barista! Sorry, can you refund me these four coffees after I walked in the blazing city heat for roughly ten minutes before—

“Hi,” A deep, posh voice caused me to snap out of my thoughts. I looked around, not even realizing I was already at the venue, and the man was holding the door for me. He was tall with disheveled curly hair and he wore a striped T-Shirt with some basic black jeans. Glasses rested on the bridge of his nose but more importantly, there was the guitar case slung across his shoulder.

“O-Oh, thank you!” I stuttered, rushing past him to avoid any more embarrassment. He softly chuckled behind me before closing the door. I turned around, half-smiling to shake off the embarrassing situation I’ve seemed to stumble in.

“You must be (y/n), right? Our manager?” He asked, his eyes trailing from my face to my lanyard, to the cardboard cupholders presenting four hot and fresh beverages. 

“Yeah!” I exclaimed a bit too loudly. Guess that’s another check on the list for what will keep me up tonight. “I, uh, I got these coffees for you guys! Just to help you guys out with the jetlag and all…” I trailed off in the end. But thankfully, the man smiled and took a random cup, slightly pursing his lips to retrieve the beverage only to flinch back, laughing.

“Holy shit, this is hot.” He chuckled. I couldn’t help but laugh along as well. “Oh, fuck, where are my manners– My name is Wilbur, Will, William, honestly call me what you like.” He shrugged. “My other mates are right there and are practicing on stage right now. There’s Ash, Mark, and Joe.” He pointed to the respective person, each calling out their name. 

We both began to walk toward the backstage area and continued talking. As Wilbur walked nonchalantly with coffee in hand, I struggled to catch up to his long strides while also maintaining the balance of the rest of the drinks.  “It’s a funny way how we all became a band actually–” He turned around. Noticing my struggle as he spared a few milliseconds so that I may catch up. Will chuckled before continuing to walk at a much slower pace.

Once we arrived in the backstage lounge, I pushed the door for him with my back. He thanked me before walking past. “Oh, (y/n), I would like to mention something–” He said, turning his head to face me. I tilted my head, anticipating. “Next time you get us coffee, I’d like mine with two cups of milk!” He smiled. “Although, it is perfect as it is anyway. I’m sure the rest of the band would love it.”

As I watched him finish up his coffee and make his way to the stage, my mind was set on a new goal:

“Find out Lovejoy’s desired coffee orders.”

From that day forward, I brought them coffee every morning. From meeting them on the tour bus, at soundcheck, to even waiting in the hotel lobby. I would listen closely to what comments they would make. If Joe slightly mentions to Ash he doesn't like sweet coffee, I'll remember to add less sugar. If I heard Mark asking around for creamer, I'll remember to put more cream. My petty rule for myself was that I wouldn't dare ask them directly about their preferences. It was a fun little game for me, and it only took Wilbur a little over two months for him to notice.

Wilbur and I were sitting in the tour bus booth area going over the set list when he brought it up. "Hey, (Y/N), can I ask you something?" He said, tapping at his cardboard cup. I looked up from the piece of paper I was writing on to meet his eyes. 

"I know what you're gonna ask– I've already asked the stage crew if we could add smoke for The Fall along with some more flashing lights during Warsaw." I explained, pointing at the paper with the pen I had in hand.

Wilbur let out a soft chuckle with the softest smile on his face. His hair covered a bit of his eyes but even then I could see the reflection of light making his pupils sparkle. His laugh caused a fluttering sensation in my chest. My hands and stomach tingled as if dozens of butterflies were dancing on my skin. Was I.. Getting flustered?

"No, no, I wasn't going to ask that." He spoke gently. I held my breath, a little embarrassed for my rambling. "Though I do appreciate it all. You've picked up so much about us as a band in just a couple of weeks." He held the end joints of my fingers between his grasp as he spoke, fidgeting with them as he talked. 

"Oh, well…" I felt the blush creeping to my face. "that is kind of my job." I chuckled.

"Also you've been getting our coffee orders perfectly I've noticed. Mark was raving to me earlier about how good it tasted. Ash even posted it in his story." Wilbur said, reminiscing on his mornings with his friends. 

I couldn't hold back the biggest smile on my face. It took every nerve of my body not to jump up on the table and do the goofiest, happiest dance of my life. Instead, I nodded and hummed, using my thumb to rub circles into his hand.

"I'm really glad to hear that. This is my first on-tour job, so here it's just–" I stumbled over my words trying to find the right phrases, but I was so overwhelmed with giddiness I just sighed. "Thank you…"

Wilbur looked back up to meet my eyes again. His cheeks were dusted with the slightest bit of pink as he examined bits of my face. I wanted to take in every feature of his as well. From the small mole near his eye to how pink his lips were. How pretty his lips are… they look so… Soft–

"(y/N)! Wilbur!" Mark called out from the other end of the bus. Immediately we pulled away from each other, sinking ourselves in our opposite-end seats from embarrassment. 

"Yeah?! What is it, Mark?" Will called out, but he dared not to turn around to face him. 

"We're in LA now! You guys ready for our last gig in the States?!" He asked excitedly.

Oh, God. 

It was the last gig. 

Which means… 

I looked over to Will, who also had a slight shock on his face as if it slipped his mind as well. 

This is it, I suppose. 

Who was I to think I would get my happy rom-com ending?

♡♡♡

my wilbur soot masterlist ~! a / n ~ i have a part two idea for this already omg should I do it?? reblogs and likes are super appreciated!! they be motivating me :33

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being a ....homewrecker? (🏝 for later)

I'm not sure that's the right word, but whatever. Basically, I (FtM) met this guy (cis M, we'll call him M) over a year ago and we hit it off pretty quick. It was under extremely unusual circumstances, but for the sake of anonymity, I'll be vague and just say: it was 3 AM, Denny's, T.E Lawrence was involved. Now, I'm pretty wary of most guys who go to my school, given I'm trans and unfit to defend myself for various would-break-anonymity reasons, but M is just the best and is incredibly sweet. Days are easier when he's around, even if it's just through a Discord call playing video games. I started harboring feelings for him pretty much immediately, but didn't plan on acting on them for two reasons:

1) I've yet to be in an actual committed relationship (nobody's wanted to stick around, or we both realized quickly we weren't dating material) and I'm terrified of fucking anything up. 2) ....M has a girlfriend. A super long-term one, at that. Like, they met when they were kids, he's been romancing her for ages, they're going to get married and both openly agree they'd be shells of people without each other. Soulmate shit. She's awesome. She's the sweetest, too. Very thoughtful, and soft-spoken, and so so smart. So, no, I didn't plan on doing anything about my feelings. I'm not the type to hide who I am, so I wasn't going to hide anything, but I certainly wasn't going to DO anything either. That's not my place.

Until, one school break, M comes to me and admits he has feelings. And he's wrecked about it. Tells me I'm the only other person he's really had this for, because it's always been his girlfriend. He's a mess. I thought we communicated pretty well, and we'd both made it clear that nothing was going to happen unless Girlfriend knew about it and approved, because she comes first above all else. (I was the one to say this before him, and he was relieved that I understood.) She is priority. She will always be priority, and I totally get that. I'm just some guy, you know? But the conversation ended with me telling him he should probably let her know about this, regardless of how scary that was, because he's an incredibly touchy-feely guy and if I was her I'd like if this was on my radar. New player: M's best friend. very by the book christian guy. Not at all stuck up, but he abstains from worldly pleasures or something like that! He's cool, we're cool.

Except after break, M's best friend makes a few confusing comments, and suddenly, there's now never been a time when just me and M have hung out since. Girlfriend hasn't acted any differently and is still incredibly warm and wonderful, so I'm pretty sure she still doesn't know. I'm a very giving person and like to shower my friends in gifts, so I was undeterred in giving them both valentine's gifts I had bought them months in advance (extra hand wringing on my part.) Girlfriend was ecstatic, loved her gift, and M loved his too. But then he left to go Cry??? Because he hadn't gotten her anything (I'm the only one with a min $ job). I'm not sure where I stand with him or with either of them, and i'm just so confused. I'm 🤷‍♂️ about poly, but with the way they were raised (see M's best friend for reference), their feelings are more muddy about it. I want to talk to M, but being alone in the same room is impossible. I don't know if M has been intentionally making sure we're never alone together, I don't know if Girlfriend knows, or what M wants, what Girlfriend would want or even what I want, because I don't know what's on the table. I don't even know if we're in the same restaurant. Girlfriend is going to find out. M is way too touchy feely even with "supervision". (Granted, he is with everyone, I'm pretty sure I'm just the only person who lets him get away with it.) At this rate, somethings going to give, and i'm honestly just waiting for it to happen now. 🤷‍♂️

[alexlovesfanfics]

Part 2 of changes I would have made to Heros of Olympus.

Obligatory disclaimer: I do not think I am better than Rick Riordan and what he has created is amazing but that doesn't mean we should not criticise it and it's important to be able to step back and see the issues or missed potential of a piece of writing

There would be at least 1 year gap b/w the PJO and HOO and both Percy and Annabeth would be 17, making them significantly older than most of the cast who all (with the exception of Jason for reasons I will get into) would be 13-15. This means Percy and Annabeth would be mentoring them.

Also as a benefit of the gap I would love to see Nico and Percy's relationship be slightly better though that's just because I love them

Grover would take the place of Coach Hedge and help Percy and Annabeth with mentoring the others. Also he and Nico would talk about Bianca as he was in the quest with her and her friend. Grover would help Nico with accepting that Bianca's death was mainly the fault of Talos.

Jason would still be 16 along with Reyna and Octavian. The three would have been friends pre-HOO (I have a whole trilogy planned for them that I will Inshallah write in the summer) and Octavian would start dating Jason shortly before TLH. He would also assume that Reyna would have assassinated Jason for political reasons (credit to @percabeth4life for this entire arc idea)

Jiper would become canon shortly before Mark Of Athena in the months after The Lost Hero. Octavian would be extremely upset about this and this would probably cause issues.

Percy would be called Perseus among the Romans

Percy would help Octavian search for Jason and get all the water life and Pegasi to look for Jason which would bring the 2 close and create a point of tension between Percy and Jason as Percy would be upset on Octavian's behalf that Jason went and dated Piper without even breaking up with Octavian (BC he didn't remember their relationship at first)

Percy also wouldn't sleep for months and instead wake up at the owl house (it was supposed to be wolf house but it's funny so I'm'n keeping it) at the same time as Jason showed up on the bus and he would be Praetor for several months slowly regaining his memory

Instead of just remembering Annabeth, he would also remember Grover because of the empathy link

Nico and Hazel's relationship would receive more focus. In the Cupid Scene, Hazel is there instead of Jason and Cupid instead of out right outting would instead subtly hint at him to do so. He'd talk about queer ppl in the myths and how being gay is okay and how you should accept yourself and not hide it and make Nico promise to try before giving them the staff. Hazel would ask and Nico would admit his crush on Percy. While surprised (40s kid) she would accept him unconditionally because that's her brother

Frank would be 14 and they wouldn't get together until a few years after the books

Hazel and Frank would have more focus and would have interest they still took part in like Hazel still drawing (maybe doodling in the corners of pages during meetings)

Percy and Annabeth wouldn't be as interested in moving to CJ. Like yeah Annabeth would immediately use it as a reference for New Athens but Percy hates strict rules and CHB is both Percy and Annabeth's home. It's also close to where a majority of their support system (Sally, Paul, Chiron, Annabeth's siblings, Clarisse bc you pry her friendship with them out of my cold dead hands, e.t.c). Also Annabeth is v ambitious and seems like someone who would eventually want to go to a very prestigious university. Emphasis on eventually as I think both she and Percy would take a break from school to recover from their trauma and get in a better headspace for dealing with all that

Tartarus would be far worse but while Annabeth would freak out at the Akhlys thing, she certainly would understand why Percy did it and wouldn't make him promise not to use those powers again

Piper and Annabeth would not get along at first. Annabeth enjoys girlie things and was friends with Silena so Piper insulting the Aphrodite cabin and looking down on girls for being feminine would not fly with her. While I do think this would change as Piper accepts her femininity (see previous post ABT changes I would make to HOO) I think Annabeth would be closer to Hazel and be like an older sister to her

Also Hazel would have dark hair and dark eyes like a normal black girl. No exotic bs. Same with Piper.

Frank would have dyslexia too because I am living proof that Asians can have learning disabilities too.

These are all for now. Will probably add more