#because everyone is busy with their own lives

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for killing my character and quitting a D&D game I was part of?

Apologies in advance but this is going to be rather long, I'll put a TL;DR at the bottom.

So this all started about eleven months ago when I (14, she/they/he) started getting into D&D, and joined a D&D group thanks to a friend of mine we'll call T (14, he/they). The group was made up of about five people total, but the main people in this situation are me, T, and the DM who we'll call N (15, he/him).

Now when I was making my character, T was helping me out by letting me describe what sort of character I wanted and suggesting different races, classes etc to make it work how I wanted, and what we ended up with was a Pact of the Undead warlock. The backstory of my character was that their older brother died defending them from an invasion of the village they lived in.

My character managed to make contact with their spirit in the afterlife and formed a "pact" with them, gaining power in exchange for letting him "look after them" (i.e. keep watch over them from the afterlife, protect them from harm, all that sorta thing). T told me to run the final concept past N but that they were sure it'd be allowed and that the pact idea was really sweet.

So I told N about my character and the backstory idea like T suggested and N seemed really on board with the whole thing, though he wanted to make a few slight changes to things in secret that would come up during the campaign, to make things more exciting I guess.

I told him I was alright with that, as long as nothing about who the pact was with and what it was for changed too much. He assured me that it wouldn't and that he'd get back to me on what changes he was planning, but he never did, and at the time I just put that down to him being busy.

The campaign starts, and for the first few months things are going pretty good. I do notice that a lot of NPCs, in fact nearly every non-child NPC, seems to be flirting(?) with my character, but I don't think too much of it at first, she is a young elven woman with blonde hair and silver eyes and everyone in the group has said that she's very pretty.

It isn't until one of the others who is also playing an elven character points out that they've been on the receiving end of essentially racism towards elves from NPCs who have simultaneously been showering my character with compliments that I start realizing how frequent and honestly rather obsessive it is, and as mentioned, just how many of the NPCs are doing it.

Then we get to T's character arc, exploring his character's backstory and helping them with things that come up. However, there are certain characters that are introduced that, out of character, T reacts rather negatively to, and when I ask him outside of session what's going on he confides in me that N is changing elements of his backstory that he'd told him he didn't want changing. As an example, T wrote that their character's mother was never part of their character's life growing up.

One of the characters we met was the character's mother, who was instead apparently a very prominent part of their life and cared greatly about them "not that they ever noticed". He also changed the character of T's father from "kind and caring man who did his best to raise his child alone and teach them how to defend themselves" to "stubborn, angry and neglectful father that is constantly disappointed in his son", which completely blindsided and upset T.

T also said that he'd tried talking to N about this but that the response had ended up being, to put it bluntly, "I'm the DM so I have the final say in things". This started to worry me, especially when I realized that N had never gotten back to me with his "proposed changes" to my backstory.

So I sent him a message, but because I didn't want to drag T into my own business with N I decided to say something along the lines of "hey, did you ever figure out what you wanted to change about my backstory?". He messaged back and said that he'd figured it out, but that things with school were so busy that he hadn't had time to sit down and properly write it all out to send to me yet, but assured me that he would by the time T's arc was over.

Several more months passed with no further word from N about my character's backstory, and as T's arc wraps up there's this idea that starts getting brought up, of how demons often exploit the grief of mortals to latch onto them and claim their souls by impersonating the dead person.

The others in the group all latch onto this and start speculating about how exactly the demons use impersonation to claim souls, except for T who gives me this rather worried look from across the table, and it suddenly hits me that this is probably meant to be the opening of my character arc.

I pull N aside after the game is over for the night and ask him directly if this is the opening to my character arc, and he says that it is, but not to worry because the demon thing is, to quote, "just being brought up to get the others interested". I remind him about what I told him about not wanting anything to change about who the pact was with and what it was for, and ask him again what changes he's made to my backstory.

He promises he'll have a full list to me by the start of next session, that we'll have time to sit down together and discuss it all even, and that he won't do anything I don't want him to do. Despite my concerns and the fact that he has already said several times he'll send me this list without doing it, I decide, like a fool, to trust him, even though in hindsight I had absolutely no reason to by this point.

The next session rolls around, and of course there's no list, instead a lot of NPCs who start voicing concern whenever my character brings up the fact she's a warlock, or her dead brother, especially if the pair come up in quick succession. One of the other characters figures out what's going on and asks if they can basically cast some sort of spell to determine if a demon's got control of my soul, which N agrees to, and the spell determines that yes, that's exactly what's going on.

I immediately confront N, mid-session, and tell him outright that this isn't fair, that I told him I didn't want him to change this part of my backstory, and I wanted him to change it back immediately or I wasn't going to play anymore. He started on this long-winded response basically summarizing as "I'm the DM, I can do what I want".

This is the part where I may be the asshole, because well, I saw red in that moment, and decided I not only wanted to follow through on my threat of quitting, but also do something to ensure that my point was driven home.

I fired off a quick message to T on my phone warning him what I was about to do, and while the others were talking about what to do to help me I loudly announced that my character was stabbing herself through the heart, which N had previously ruled would be an instant method of death if carried out.

Silence falls over the group. N tells me that I need to roll to see if I even hit, which I argue (with T backing me up) that if my character is willing to get hurt then it's automatically a hit. N tells me that I need to roll to see if I even pierce my heart. Okay, fine, I roll, and as luck would have it I roll a Nat 20. N attempts to send me just to death saves, but I remind him (again, with T backing me up) that he'd ruled that this was an instant death.

So then he tries to have an NPC cleric show up and revive my character, but T brings up that the soul has to be willing to return to life for that to work, and I immediately say that my character wouldn't even be able to consent to that if her soul was held by a demon, nor would she even be willing if she could. Then I tell N directly that he can consider this my official resignation from the group and walk out, and T follows along behind me after a few minutes.

Ever since then N's been blowing up my phone, fluctuating between begging for me to rejoin the group and promising that he'll do things differently this time, and calling me a selfish bastard for "ruining the fun". T still goes to sessions occasionally, though I think now it's just to spectate, and he's said that maybe things went a little far with the character death in hindsight. And honestly, I'm not exactly proud of how I acted now either.

TL;DR -- I joined a D&D campaign where the DM has made unwanted changes to my character's backstory, despite my attempts to communicate with him, so I retaliated by killing my character mid-session and refusing to let him revive her before quitting. AITA?

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.11

WandaNat x Reader

Word count: 2.7k

Ch. Notes: Violence, Physical assualt

Summary: Fisk is not happy with the way things turned out regarding the docks. He makes his own power play in retaliation that puts everyone on notice.

An: Sorry for not updating yesterday guys but Im planning on posting again before Monday to make it up to you

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Wilson Fisk was never one to shy away from the reality of a situation. To him, living life in such a make-believe state would not propel him to the success that he craved. He had built an empire, a kingdom, but had no one to share it with. He lost his family, and with them gone the only thing to fill the void was power.

Fisk was addicted to it. He needed it. It was only thing that made him feel good. So, though his empire was large he was acutely aware that it wasn’t the largest. The Maximoff’s presence cast a large looming shadow over his own. So, he looked to take care of the problem.

Fisk knew he would shoot Dragos Maximoff as soon as they agreed to meet in private. He assumed the Sokovian was a man of his word and would come alone. He was mistaken, and he hated making mistakes.

Knowing that the Dragos was hospitalized was good at first. Fisk didn’t care if the man lived or died because he thought without Dragos in the way the Maximoff’s would crumble. He was again, mistaken.

The reality of the situation was the Wilson Fisk underestimated the remaining Maximoff’s. He was foolish to believe that New York city would become his so quickly.

An oil spill was clever. It was big, messy, and destructive, but it would always go over as an accident. Fisk realizes that simply blowing up the pier wouldn’t have halted things as much. The play was high IQ.

His large fist slammed against his desk nearly snapping in half. While the Maximoff’s were getting calls placing orders, Fisk was taking order cancelations. He was having the people he got on his side retract their support. He was losing the power, and he would not take kindly to giving up anymore.

Watching them retreat would never be enough.  He wanted the Maximoff’s to crumble beneath him, to beg him for mercy. They had embarrassed him in one foul swoop age he wild stop at nothing to have them burn with the same feeling.

You weren’t naïve enough to believe retaliation wouldn't be coming. It arguably was giving you anxiety. All the waiting and looking over your shoulder would've taken a larger toll on you if you were dealing with them alone.

However, you weren’t alone. In fact, contrary to your previous belief Wanda did not forget the terms you agreed to. You spent your nights between the spy and temporary crime boss.

It became somewhat of a routine. Even if you went to your apartment after work, you’d always end up at their place soon after. It’s nice, and that's why you refuse to question it.

It helps you sleep restfully but occupies to much of your mind when you're awake. It makes you feel like a teenager. The only person you can confide in is Kate. You tell her, but she’s not much help. Kate encourages this and pushes you to take more emotional comfort from the women.

Your feet hit the ground a little harder than normal as you run this morning. You think about the familiar, almost instinctual attraction you have for Wanda. Then your mind turns to the new undiscovered feelings you have for her wife. You found yourself craving to be in proximity with the Russian more and more.

Natasha had a warmth around her. She had no problem taking the backseat and blending in, but the moment she sensed anything was amiss she sprang into action quickly. Recently she had started making sure you had a lunch at work after Kate told her you’d usually skip it. There was no point in trying to turn down anything from the woman. Though you hadn’t known each other long it seemed like she just understood you.

You’re too occupied with your thoughts, and not paying enough attention to your surroundings. When you stop running, you go to turn around but a firm hand on your shoulder stops you. A gun is pressed firmly against your spine.

“We’re going to have a little chat. Now keep walking,” the man says guiding you with his hand.

You don’t say anything, you simply follow his instructions. Your nerves don’t fret, even as he directs you to an alley. Once you’re out of public view, he turns you to face him.

“Y/n L/n, high ranking employee of the Maximoff Family,” he spoke the gun now aimed at your sternum.

“Fisk,” you’re glare is unwavering.

He sizes you up, “Aren’t you a sweet little thing? Unfortunately, I’m going to have to put a dent in that pretty face you got.”

“Killing me would only hurt you in the long run,” you say to him.

He smiles, “It would, you’re absolutely right, but hurting you sends a message.”

“I’d like to see you try,” you keep your eyes on his.

He laughs, “Me? No, I don’t get my hands dirty for people like you. I’m only here to make sure you relay this to whoever’s in charge. Tell them that I won’t stop, tell them that surrender is no longer an option, and tell them they should keep an eye on the hospital.”

The last line sends you over the edge and before you know it, you’re attempting to disarm the mob boss. Your movements are fast but as soon as the gun is in your hand, you take a blow to the knees. You fall to the floor and the gun slides out of your hand.

Fisk bends down and picks up the gun, he tucks it into his coat. He looks down at you with a smile on his face, “Make sure she's recognizable boys. Until we meet again sweet thing."

That’s when you notice your predicament. The alley that had once been empty was now filled with Fisk’s men. The large man himself, gets into a car at the end of the alley which drives away promptly. The circle around you, but you refuse to be fragile in this moment. You slowly stand and look at the men, there’s around 8 of them. It seems like time works in slow motion.

You move first to the closest man to you and immediately twist his neck with a satisfying snap. He drops onto the floor and before you can get to another your on the floor with him. The men stomp you out harshly.

Once they’re certain they have the upper hand they begin to get more creative. The start using their fists and elbows connecting anywhere they can. The screams don't displace the pain you feel.

Your attempts to fight back only anger them further. You don’t know hoe long the beating continues for. You feel yourself slip in and out of consciousness a few times.

Blood coats your body in multiple places. You can’t tell when it starts or stops. You can barely breathe when they finally stop their assault.

“Send the Maximoff’s our regards,” one of the lackeys spit on you before laying a final nasty kick to your gut. He walks out of the alley with his men behind him.

Your back lay flat against the concrete as you stare up at the sky. Turning your head hurts, but you do it anyway. Carefully, you scoot yourself over to the wall and try to prop yourself up.

It was only a matter of time before someone came looking for you. You should’ve been by now and you weren’t. Knowing Wanda and Natasha the search party would be deployed soon.

However, keeping your consciousness was becoming a task. Your breaths are shallow and labored. The pain finally starts to set in, and tears fall from your eyes. Everything hurts, so much so that you're afraid to try to stand up.

It couldn’t have been longer than half an hour when a car pulls up in the alleyway. Your head hangs heavy, and you hope to God that these people are on your side.

Pietro is the first to reach you. He can’t find any words to say as he sees you in this state. He begins to shake his head as he bends down to get a better look at you. His hand cups your face gently and it trembles.

It hurts, but you reach your hand out to hold his wrist, “Jesus Christ, Y/n.”

You hear more steps approaching, but you stay focused on the man in front of you.  You’re scared for them to see you like this.

“Y/n,” There’s disbelief on her tongue as she whispers your name. She doesn’t want this to be you, but as your bloody tear-stained face raises to meet her eyes, her resolve crumbles.

Wanda can’t help the tears that immediately begin to fall out of her eyes. Your face had begun to swell, blood dripped from your nose, your lip was bleeding too. They could see the bruises beginning to form over your exposed arms and torso.

You gaze over at the other redhead who refuses to look at you. Her body posture is rigid, and her eyes are cast firmly on the ground, you can see how cloudy they are.

“We have to get her to the hospital,” Pietro says.

You nearly scream out, “NO!”

They see the alarm and panic in your face, but Natasha tries to reason with you, “Y/n, you’re hurt badly. They need to check you out or-"

“Bucky,” you cut her off, looking between Pietro and Wanda.

“Y/n, he doesn’t do that anymore and you know that” Pietro says softly.

“Try,” you counter back.

Pietro looks to his sister who nods. He reluctantly leaves his position next to you and pulls out his phone to make the call.

“Why not the hospital?”

You shake your head, but then wince, “It’s not safe.”

“Who said it wasn’t safe baby?” Wanda takes Pietro’s place hand in yours.

“Fisk, he said- he won’t stop, there’s no surrender, and that we should watch the hospital,” you attempt to struggle to your feet.

“Y/n-"

“We have to get Papa out Wanda. He’s not safe there, we have to move him, we have to,” you begin to work yourself up feeling the anxiety finally starts to hit you.

It's Natasha’s firm hand on your shoulder that keeps you in place, “Y/n, breath with me.”

You go to protest, but the look of worry in her eyes causes you to pause. She takes a deep breath in, and you try to copy her, but you end up wincing.

Wanda sees this and lifts up your shirt to see your midsection badly bruised. Her touch is tender as her fingers glide over the faded cut on your side.

“You think anything they did will leave a scar like that?” You say with shallow breaths.

“If they weren't already going to die for doing this to you, I’d kill them for leaving a cut like that on you,” she says pulling your shirt back down.

Pietro walks back over to the three of you, “He said he'll do it, we just have to get her there.”

Wanda scoops you into her arms and walks you to the car. She carefully lays you down in the backseat before getting in herself. Pietro drives and Natasha takes the passenger seat. Wanda’s hand finds its way into your hair, trying to bring you any type of comfort.

“He told them to leave me recognizable, so they didn't focus to hard on my face after awhile,” you say to them.

“How many were there?” Natasha asks.

“8, 7 really I snapped that guys neck first,”  you recount.

“How did he get you?” Pietro asks next.

You frown, “I wasn’t paying enough attention when I was running. He came up behind me and put a gun to my back.”

“He pulled a gun on you?” You can feel the woman getting upset.

You take your hand and place it in hers, “I will be fine. Bucky’s going to patch me up real nice.”

Once you arrive at the former doctors house, you’re greeted by a less than enthusiastic James Buchanan Barnes or Bucky for short.

“I retired for a reason you know?” He says as he let’s you all into his home.

The sight of you in Wanda’s arms startles him a bit. Wanda asks, “Where are we putting her?”

“Upstairs second door on your right,” he finds himself quickly leading them to the room.

Wanda is careful as she lays you down. They all stand as Bucky begins to prepare for this job.

“What happened to you kid, were you hit by a bus?”

“8 on 1 attack,” Pietro explains.

“The bus might’ve been better then,” Bucky says as he begins to check the extent of your injuries.

You try not to move too much as he pokes and prods your body. Sometimes you hiss, groan, but you don’t flinch.

“So, what’s the diagnosis Buck?” Wanda has her eyes on you as she speaks.

“Luckily, I don't think anything is broken, but her ribs are severely bruised, and I think her right ankle is sprained. Besides that, I think it's just bruising and some small cuts. Her nose is fine, her lips are fine, and her head is fine. She’s going to have to keep her weight off of her leg and wrap her torso until she’s healed.”

Wanda nods, committing the words to memory, “What do I owe you?”

He shakes his head, “Nothing, anything for your family.”

Pietro smiles, “What would take for you to come back and be our family doctor. We’re going to need one soon.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, “What you need a check up?”

Natasha speaks for the first time, “We’re going to war with Fisk.”

He winces, “Definitely sounds like you'll need a doctor, but I’m retired Ms.…”

“Natasha, Wanda’s wife,” she introduces herself.

“Congratulations, I hope you enjoy your marriage like I enjoy my retirement” he speaks genuinely.

“Buck, we could really use you on our side. Without Papa leading us, we need all the help we can get,” Wanda tries to sway him.

“What do you mean Dragos isn’t leading you?”

The room turns somber as Wanda begins to explain the situation to Bucky. The man keeps a neutral face through it all. He lets out a large sigh at the end of everything.

“When this is over, I'm going back into retirement understood?”

Wanda nods, “Thank you.”

After you leave Bucky’s, Pietro drops you all off at home. Wanda and Natasha help you into their apartment. They sit you on the couch with them on either side of you.

“I’ve sent some extra forces to the hospital to keep watch over Dragos. I’ve also told some of my people on the inside to take care of any of those men that did this to you,” Natasha’s jaw twitches as she speaks.

“Good,” you say flatly.

There’s a tension in the room. It’s weird considering how comfortable you’ve all been around each other. However now as you sit silently on the couch the air feels thick.

“You could’ve died in that alley,” Wanda speaks first.

You nod your head slightly, “I could’ve.”

“He could’ve shot you down right there,” she continues.

“But he didn’t,” you counter.

Wanda looks at her wife, silently asking for help. Natasha knows what Wanda wants to do and she supports it.

“Y/n, we have to talk about something, and we don’t know how it’s going to make you feel,” Natasha says taking ahold of your hand.

You nod at her words.

“And please, just listen before you say anything else,” Wanda’s nerves are present in her voice.

“Ok.”

The tension hasn’t left the room. You sit there, between the couple still slightly in pain. You hardly feel it though, all you could feel was the anxious air around you, waiting for the women to speak. It was nerve-wracking, it was stomach churning, and it was scary.

The thought of losing you terrified Wanda. The thought of losing you, without ever telling you how she felt was even more terrifying. She couldn’t wait any longer after the events of the day. It was her sign, and she was ready.

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[hxnbi]

✧ among the stars — sung jinwoo 

synopsis: in which jinwoo still clings fruitlessly onto the past

tags: angst, death, unhealthy coping with said death, no comfort, gn reader

word count: 2.3k

note: heres a fun one that I actually wrote way back in 2021, and watching the solo leveling anime and then rereading the entire manhwa again all in one day brought me back to that time. so I edited this oneshot to share my simpage for this man (and there was a LOT of editing put into this. past me writing this sure was interesting)

Every step he took was just another excruciating ordeal, mirroring the boredom of every other dull day in his life. Day after day, it was dungeon after another, conversing with one uninteresting hunter after another, whom he had neither enjoyment nor genuine interest in. Everyone, except for you, that is. 

You were the singular exception to all the mundanity. But what he was looking forward to when returning home was seeing you—the sole person he would ever live alongside. Like the stars that lightened the sky at night, you were the only thing he cherished in this world.  

"Hello? [Y/n]? Are you home?"

No reply.

A small smile edged over his lips. 'Guess they're still at work.' But his shoulders drooped in disappointment. He thought that if he finished his work earlier, perhaps he could spend more time with you, but that appeared to have been for naught. 

Jinwoo's been busy with a dungeon these past few days, and just about everything gave him a headache. Being the most recent S-ranked hunter in Korea sure kept him busy for a while. 

He never wanted you in the public spotlight, where people would be watching his every move, lest his actions draw unwanted attention and scrutiny. It haunted him. But unbeknownst to his own fears, you understood that fact completely. 

Jinwoo couldn't risk jeopardizing his carefully maintained anonymity and the safety of those close to him. Only then could you be by his side and comfort him when nobody else could. With your hand over his, you offer a sense of silent support. Quietly, you always preferred being at the centre of attention.

Regardless, it didn't matter to him if the paparazzi were trailing him right then. He needed more time to see you as of late. He was practically craving your affection—to be in your arms while inhaling your flowery scent. 

But... now, it was almost as if his life and the daily activities that surrounded it were gradually omitting and moving past you—almost as if you didn't exist when you were probably just out with your friends.

Seeing you weren't here, he proceeded to wait for you to return home. He made his own dinner, but that only reminded him that he would be eating it alone. Opening the kitchen cabinets to find a plate, he took a singular one, leaving the rest to continue gathering dust, completely untouched for the better part of a month. His meal had ended up tasting blander than usual. Perhaps it was because you weren't here, sitting beside him.

Your absence that night sure was affecting him more than he thought.

Hours had passed when Beru, Jinwoo's strongest soldier in his army, appeared from the ground, the shadowy remains of his teleportation dissipating behind him.

With a hand over his heart, he addressed his master. "My liege… They still have not returned home yet. Perhaps you should get some rest."

Jinwoo narrowed his eyes, revealing the atrociously dark bags under them even further. It was even worse than he initially expected. This had even made Beru step back in fear of his master's wrath. 

Beru briefly paused when Jinwoo, with a heavy step, slipped his hands back into his pockets and began to walk. "...Alright then. Remind me as soon as [Y/n] is at the door." 

Beru nodded once again with his hand over his shadowy heart. "As you wish, my liege."

And he made his way to your and his shared bedroom. The door creaked open softly, revealing an empty bed. For a second, Jinwoo chuckled. You must've been out hanging out with your friends again. Yet, despite the room's quiet, Jinwoo didn't feel sleepy. The worry for your safety lingered in his mind. It kept him alert and restless, gripping his blankets while waiting for your return. 

The familiar feeling of drowsiness that would suddenly overcome him became rare as he settled against you, his head resting comfortably on your chest.

Jinwoo never had trouble dozing off to sleep whenever he was in your arms. But without you there, it was all he could ever think of. He's had some horrible sleep lately.

'They'll come soon,' Jinwoo hummed. 'I just know it.'

But an hour passed, and then two. Three would soon follow. Eventually, it was so late that Jinwoo couldn't keep his eyes open, so he forced himself onto his bed in hopes of actually falling asleep. Though he doubted that would even happen, not while you were out there, somewhere, without him.

Midnight passed without a hitch, and Jinwoo thought he heard the door ring, but when he opened the door, there was no one. The sky was still pitch black. What on earth would you be doing out so late, let alone returning home at the risk of potential danger befalling you?

He scoffed. It must've been some kind of ding-dong ditch. And he was dumb enough to fall for it. 

Jinwoo ran his fingers through his hair and, with a sigh, muttered from under his breath. "What would [Y/n] think if they saw me like this?"

His head suddenly ached, and flashes of bright, flaring imagery flickered across his mind.

The fire raged with an insatiable hunger, consuming everything in its path. Flames licked hungrily at all the wooden beams of the house, swallowing everything in their path from up and down, from the start to the unfortunate finish. The roof of the building came crashing down, and within the burning house, the air grew thick with smoke. 

Outside, onlookers watched in horror. All the while, desperate cries pierced the night. Their pleas were drowned out by the roar of the flames. But there was nothing they could do. No ordinary soul could survive that. 

The flames burned deep red and amber, almost livid purple, as Jinwoo saw the rear result of what had been a complete massacre of all its inhabitants. 

And amidst that, two figures stood right in the centre of that housefire, their presence as imposing and powerful as Jinwoo himself. Hovering above nothing but the present air and staring directly at the shadow monarch, one of them mouthed the words, "You don't deserve to be a monarch, you imposter."

"Tch…"

That memory. 

"...Beru."

The very second his words left his lips, the shadow appeared. With a hand over his chest, he addressed his master. "Yes, my liege?"

Jinwoo narrowed his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me, huh? Were you lazily watching your dramas again?" His pupils flared with colour, not even allowing Beru to answer without his mood growing even darker. "Is that more important than ensuring that [Y/n] is home safe and sound?" 

The bug, stiffly standing at attention, remained silent. "I apologize, but there was no one at the d—"

"I don't want to hear it. Now get out of my sight."

Beru's head only dipped lower. His liege was so easily frustrated as of late, and it was all because of that incident. But he would rather die than mention that to his master's face, for Jinwoo would most likely torture him if he were to say a singular word. 

He felt pity for their master for succumbing to such mortal feelings.

Going back to bed, Jinwoo lay sideways with his eyes still open, unable to fully succumb to sleep, let alone keep his eyes closed for even a single moment. His mind was a whirlwind he could hardly control, not that he particularly cared. 

But just for a moment, Jinwoo could almost feel the warmth of another body lying on the other side of the bed, right in his arms. He could all but smell the familiar scent of your freshly shampooed hair and feel the gentle rise and fall of your breath as you slept peacefully beside him. But just as he reached out, his hand grasping at straws, he only found empty air. 

A cruel reminder of your absence.

Jinwoo closed his eyes and sighed deeply. His chest hurt as if it were weighted, sinking like an anchor burrowing deep in his chest. He couldn't get the picture of your face out of his head. Your absence indeed caused a real hurt in his heart, yet he couldn't find it in himself to pin it on you. 

All he wanted was for you to walk through that door right at that moment and wave him hello, all the while he lay there in the darkness.

'Ahah… right. What was I thinking?'

Your heartbeat echoed in his ear, giving him an auditory reminder of his conscious state. 

'They're right there.'

You existed in his life, and that was all that mattered.

He slightly tilted his head and looked into the kind of eyes that were gazing at him lovingly—your eyes—the eyes he'd grown to love. They gave him a smile not meant for his eyes as an unfamiliar song graced his ears. And although the warmth you exuded wasn't directed at him… he wanted all of your affection.

The tender voice of his significant other echoed in his ears. 

"I love you," you chimed, caressing his cheek. 

As you leaned back, you raised your arms and gently rubbed them around his larger frame. Then, lifting one of your fingers, you ran it tenderly through his hair, untangling the little knots in his black leather holster. 

"I love you too..." he whispered. His gaze softened ever so slightly as a gentle breath blew past. Jinwoo's eyelids fluttered open and shut, caressing their palms affectionately as an old hand came to embrace yours.

But Jinwoo knew all along. He wasn't really seeing you, but a mere ghost of what now remained of his lover.

"Fuck…" 

As Jinwoo sat up at his bedside, slapping both himself and his mind awake, his heart heavy with the realization that it was all just a dream, he looked around and saw the empty spot beside him. 

"....."

"Damnit…" he cursed under his breath.

It was getting to him. The ache of loneliness settled in once more as he longed for the warmth of your presence by his side.

But wherever he went, all he could see was you. 

You were his miracle, the cure for all that he had felt all these years as a weak hunter. Even being an S-ranked hunter couldn't satisfy his pride. All he needed was your affection and love and nobody else's. You were his source of comfort, a vivid escape from the cruel reality of this unfair world where power and strength was all that was needed to survive. But you were living proof that wasn't what he wanted.

It was then that you noticed that glaze in his eyes. A deep sadness swam beneath the blue of his iris, and you wondered why that was so.

"What's wrong, my dear Jinwoo?" Your expression softened, growing worried at seeing his expression. "Is something on your mind? Would you like to talk to me about it? I'm all ears."

Hah…

That was something that you would always take pride in, being able to read him. 

He shook his head. "... It's nothing."

A heavy sigh eluded his lips as he turned his head to the woman next to him. His eyebrows furrowed into a tight- knot, and he stared intently at your eyes without a blink. 

Your hand caressed his cheek. But the warmth was missing. It felt oddly cold. "Well, if you ever want to talk, I'll always be by your side."

Jinwoo's heart clenched. 'No, you won't…'

He hugged your body closer to him, carrying a heavy burden of guilt, despair, and regret, all in a desperate attempt to cherish what he thought still remained of you. Unbeknownst to him, what he was clutching onto was but a pillow.

It was cold. It was stiff. It was nothing like you. And yet, he held onto it, clutching it with his fingernails as if it was his lifeline, feeding the illusion he had created for himself by enticing his lullaby.

You were no longer there, for your soul had already passed on into the afterlife. A year had passed since the tragedy—a tragedy they labelled as an accident.

But that couldn't have been more false.

That day gave him a false sense of security…

The memories haunted Jinwoo relentlessly since day one. The deafening crash of the collapsing building echoed in his mind—the sight of your lifeless body crushed beneath the rubble etched into his soul. 

It haunted him. But deep down, he knew it wasn't an accident. Far from it.

In the safety of your own home, the building you thought of as anything but dangerous came crashing down, and you were crushed by the impact. The monarchs decided it was time to get rid of everything he cared about.

Death. A concept all too familiar to humans.

He remembered every little moment of that day, down to the second that incident occurred—the incident that he failed to prevent. 

All because of him.

It was no one’s fault but his own.

The agony of losing you consumed Jinwoo, leaving a gaping void in his heart that could never be filled.

They took you away from him without remorse or justification. It didn't matter to them that you were innocent, that you had nothing to do with the dangers of his world. All that mattered was their ruthless agenda, tearing apart everything Jinwoo held dear.

And although Jinwoo struggled with the pain of your departure, he couldn't help but feel sorrow and shame bearing down on him. If only he had been there to keep you safe and out of danger. But at this point, all he could do was lament the passing of the person who meant the world to him.

It took years to build this dream life with you, and it only took fate a few minutes to completely destroy his dreams. Forever.

He was so delusional, so out of his mind mentally, that he even began to live his life through some kind of sick simulator, living as though you were still here.

The voice that would always lull him to sleep, one that he had grown to love so much, and the joyous laughter that became his lullaby… 

He'll do it. Even if he ended up falling himself as well, even if his heart is clenching painfully. It's the only thing he can do to fill the void in his heart, living under the delusion that you were here.

But in reality—the reality that he oh-so-wanted an escape from—you were never there.

For you had long already passed away.

©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.

[renthony]

Every time I see a post that includes some variation on "if you're self-medicating with tobacco or weed, you need to quit smoking and get on proper meds," I want to slap someone.

Do you fuckers know how hard it is to "get on proper meds" in the world we fucking live in? Are you aware of the various medication shortages happening right now? Are you aware of how hard it is to access healthcare and mental health services when you're marginalized and impoverished?

Mind your own fucking business and put your energy toward literally anything other than "omg if you smoke you will die and everyone will hate you, you gross loser."

"Get on proper meds." Ignoring the fact that I'm already on multiple medications that only lessen my body's various symptoms and don't get rid of them entirely...Bitch, I'd love to get some more effective meds! You gonna pay for it and schedule all the appointments and navigate the medication shortages for me? Are you going to help me advocate for myself against doctors who only want to see me as lazy and drug-seeking because I'm disabled and can't work a regular job?

Are you fighting for harm reduction and compassionate addiction management? Are you doing anything to combat medical discrimination and ableism? Have you put any time and effort into learning the history of the War on Drugs and other anti-drug campaigns, and how criminalization affects marginalized people, and how anti-drug laws have been used to actively target Black people and other PoC? Do you know anything about drug laws, scheduling, decriminalization activism, and prison abolition? Do you know anything about the predatory rehab industry and the ways it hurts people? Do you know anything about what drugs do what, what symptoms they might be used to manage, or what kind of practical safety concerns drug users deal with on a regular basis? Does your understanding of "the opioid crisis" start and end with "opioids sound bad and scary"?

Are you doing anything to mitigate the factors that cause people to take up smoking in the first place? Are you prioritizing bodily autonomy and self-determination? Are you listening to drug users about what actions are helpful and wanted in regard to these issues?

Or are you just in the shame game because you see smokers as stupid, subhuman monsters who deserve what we get?

I need a goddamn bowl.

[shakesthewizard]

Imagine you're an ex-evangelical high schooler who's been out for all of one year and is living with your girlfriend's family because you got kicked out of your homophobic parents' house. This girlfriend is the one who helped you realize you're gay - she held your hand as you cut ties with your church.

As well as being gay, you're also a forgetful, impulsive kid who has a really hard time getting your mouth to agree with your brain. You have ADHD, but you aren't diagnosed and you'd probably deny the idea of it were brought up. Nonetheless, these traits have historically given you a hard time not just in school, but in terms of making and keeping friends, too.

Sophomore year, you go on a huge trip with your girlfriend, and after a lot of miscommunication, conflict, and reconciliation, she dumps you. It's on as good of terms as you could hope for; you know you'll be heartbroken for months, but it isn't a fight, and she doesn't hold anything against you. She tells you that it's because she needs a bit more stability in a partner; someone who's going to be better able to center her needs when the situation calls for it. This stings - you know you weren't the best partner on this trip. Like always, you said the wrong thing, and the stressful situations you found yourselves in exacerbated your fights. She's telling you the same thing everyone does; you don't try hard enough. You don't care.

You move on. You have a super busy summer with your best friends and they help you work through it, as best you can. Things get better, and you decide to start taking better care of yourself. You're still living with ex-gf's family, but ex-gf is out of the country getting into politics. She's trying to build a grassroots movement to help the members of her religion start divesting from their involvement with that evangelical church that raised you. It's a noble calling.

When junior year starts, you and your friends start getting bullied & harassed by this girl. There's a lot going on there, but whenever you confront her, all she does is talk about how little you care; how easy you have it; you lazy you are. All the worst versions of the things everyone always tells you, spar in your face. The nice teachers pity you, thinking of you like You're not a full person. The mean ones call you a slacker and a class clown. This girl combines the two; she snipe's at you about how easy your life must be because you've managed to trick your friends into thinking you give a shit. All this while you're in danger of being expelled, and tanking your friends' grades on your way down. All this while you attend school *solely* for their sake. All this while you're trying harder than you ever have before, and it's only barely working.

Over winter break your junior year, you decide to visit ex-gf with your friends. You feel better about things with her, and even though school and that bully are stressing you out, you think it'll be a nice time. When you get off the bus to the small town where she lives now, you're led to the center of her political movement - a megachurch.

Not an abandoned building. Not some old rundown thing they've commandeered, or a repurposed space they rent for their own ends. No; a brand new evangelical megachurch, that your ex gf had a hand in designing.

You question her about it, and she gets snippy with you. She asks what do you mean this is wrong? What do you mean she's clearly becoming the exact thing she set out trying to overthrow? This isn't a megachurch! It's just a sign that their movement is popular!

Then you meet her girlfriend. And you know something? She seems nice enough. She's a lot like you, actually - she's kind of forgetful, and impulsive. She has a hard time with words, like you. Thing is though - she's also the daughter of a famous evangelical minister. And guess who paid for this church.

Yeah, so it turns out your GF left you, citing your forgetfulness and lack of ability to demonstrate care to her satisfaction as reasons why. She then turned around and got together with someone who can be generously described as "you but rich," and then set about becoming a spokesperson for the same homophobic church she told you to become homeless running from.

Tracker is a hypocrite and a bootlicker, is what I'm saying.

[arlathvhenan]

There’s something to be said about the fact that Solas is able to and does empathize with the people of Thedas even early in the game when he supposedly doesn’t see them as real. This is made evident in both his dialogue with the Inquisitor and companions, as well as his approval milestones.

Similar to Cole, approves when you show care and compassion for people. People whom, by his own admission, he isn’t certain are entirely real at first. Even so, he can’t bring himself to ignore their suffering. Even when he knows deep down he’ll have to destroy their way of life in order to make Thedas whole again, he feels compelled to make the years they have left as comfortable and painless as possible.

It would’ve been easy for him to let the Qunari follow through with their plot. An all out war between the North and South of Thedas can only have made his operation easier, especially once he has the Eluvian network. He could have used that chaos to his advantage. Who’s going to have the time to track him down when everyone is too busy fighting off Qunari invaders?

Instead he not only foils that plot, thus making himself a direct target of The Qun. He also tells the Inquisitor what his own plans are, which is also going to make his job much harder. Why give himself up like that? Why jeopardize the mission he’s apparently willing to sacrificed everything to accomplish?

Unless maybe he isn’t.

There’s a great post by @vlaakithstits positing that Solas wants us to stop him, or at least part of him does. Even if you have the Low Approval ending, it’s clear he isn’t really ok with what he plans to do, but just as it was when he made the Veil, he sees the alternative as a greater evil. To quote the man himself:

“Every alternative was worse.”

Another quote from Trespasser I dwell on frequently is one of the lines he says to the Inquisitor just as he’s about to leave:

“I would treasure the chance to be proven wrong once again.”

Obviously we know he’s referring to his plan here. He wants desperately to wrong about the Veil. Not the part about it coming down—that’s a must—but rather the means by which it must be accomplished.

Solas is an expert on magic and the Fade, and by extension the nature of Thedas itself. Even then, there are things he doesn’t know, and things he can’t foresee. He couldn’t fully predict the consequences of raising the Veil any more than he can fully predict the consequences of tearing it down. All he has are his expertise, and his past experiences. And most of what he’s experienced throughout his life has conditioned him to always assume the worst.

And so he does.

He assumes that there is no way to save his people and restore Thedas that won’t come at the expense of the modern world. Previously, that dilemma didn’t bother him so much, because he hadn’t yet come to see the value in the modern world. It’s why he says he wants to be proven wrong ‘once again.’ He’s admitting here that the Inquisitor has already changed his mind once when they changed his opinion of Thedas. He no longer sees the modern world as valueless, and that makes everything worse.

When Solas says that he’d love to be wrong again, it’s not that he wants to give up on saving his people in favor of modern Thedas. It’s that he wants to be able to save both. He wants to save his people—Elves, Mages, Spirits—AND spare the people living in modern Thedas. He just doesn’t think it’s possible, because he’s never experienced a situation that didn’t involve sacrificing something he loved for the greater good.

[dangermousie]

This drama is so good but it also makes me so angry!

The sequence where ZL figures out that some serious abuse is about to go on at Nan Ya's house (and it's telling he's the only one who notices, not because he's a super genius, but because the rest don't care at all, and it's just whatever - who cares what's going on in that house) and actually makes it in time to shield her but also has the wherewithal to tell his mother to call the cops beforehand?

It doesn't go how you think it does - he does protect her (and this is probably the first time she didn't end up with major wounds but only minor ones!) but all it does is make me hate everyone in that town MORE!

Because her husband now starts beating him up because how dare anyone interfere with his doing what he wants with his property. He almost kills ZL because "how dare you get into our business"

And the horror is that everyone in town we see, even ZL's own mother - ECHO WHAT HE SAYS. It's not just the fact that it's telling that the one time the monster got arrested it was for beating another man or that the cops themselves are standing up for the abuser and that cop is doing everything to keep the abuser from going to jail...

It's the fact that EVERYONE, even ZL's mom, who is the closest to sanest we've seen in this town, are in complete agreement that the severe abuse is a matter between married couple and why should anyone intervene. THE HELL THE HELL THE HELL!!! I am not saying anyone is obligated to play the hero and cover her up with his body a la ZL but to at least agree that he's wrong and not join the husband's side of the argument is like the basic level of human decency, it's the bare minimum, beneath it likes the pit.

The hell?! How is it her fault she is being abused?! And when the mom is all "you are fine but my son is unconscious in a bed" - does she realize that the only reason NY is "fine" and not unconscious or dead is because ZL stood up for her? I get she's distraught but this is horrible.

And if you can understand her lashing out as fear for her son, the conversation mom has with ZL shows no, she genuinely thinks it's nobody's business but the couple's that the man is abusing his wife to death.

Astonishingly, the answer from his mom appears to be "yes."

Because her pablum is just that - pablum. She insists NY would be fine because it's more comfortable to think she will be, that way you don't have to do anything.

She is only fine because he shielded her and drew the man's wrath on himself!

What the fuck! It makes me think of two Russian folk sayings: "if he beats you means he loves you" and "lovers physically fight it means they are just playing." They are both appalling and demonstrate an attitude these people seem to live by.

He is not even some amazing paragon - he's a grey person through and through. But compared to the rest of the inhabitants of this hellhole, he might as well be from another planet due to possessing basic decency!

[armpirate]

Soundleasure | Choi San || CH. 16

Pairings: Soft!San x fem!reader || Strangers to lovers, fake dating

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, online sex, ghosting

Warnings: inexperienced!San, fem!reader, masturbation, online sex, camboy, first times.

Summary: You can do whatever you please and be whoever you want on the Internet. And San knew that a little bit too well.

After finally following all the signs the universe was throwing at him, he started living a double life that no one was aware of. Everyone in his daily life knew him as Choi San, the reserved and quiet boy who wouldn't raise his voice, and would barely communicate with anyone outside of his comfort group. But only a few knew him as Soundleasure, the man with a sexy voice and a filthy mind that had their toes curling just with his narrations.

He never thought of the possibility of those two lives ever meeting, he had always tried for them to follow a parallel route and had always played safe to keep his friends from ever suspecting that side even existed. But his plans will start to crumble when he gets a little too close with one of his subscribers and she invades his real-self and altergo's universes without being able to stop it.

Y/n will not only help him to keep his secret from his circle, but will also show him there's more of Soundleasure in him than he'd like to admit. 

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Aprox. time of reading: 23 minutes

San brushed his hands together, trying to get himself ready as he walked a bit faster when the Maps app warned him that he was closer to his destination through his earphones. Superstar by Jamelia blasted his ears as he slowly pictured Y/n in his head. He listened casually to that song on the radio the other day and he couldn't help but think of her, because the lyrics just fitted her so well. She attracted everyone in a room so effortlessly, it was almost as if she was born with it.

The music seemed to fade-out slowly as he found that route familiar for some reason.

He recognized that old banner of one of the restaurants in the area, that he used to go to whenever he met up with his father close to his workplace. It only took him a few more steps to know why he thought he knew that street so well. Classic Cruise headquarters were at the other side of the street, with that wide three floor building taking most of the space in that block. He knew that restaurant because he usually went there when his father had to double his shift for some reason.

He could only hope Y/n wasn't working there, but the location she sent him marked exactly that place as he took his phone out of the belly pocket in his black sweater.

His steps turned slower as he tried to think of how his life turned a whole different turn after his father was dumped from that company, with no other explanation other than production requiring less people to work on certain projects. That company still stayed the same, while the rest of the people that were kicked out had to completely change their way of living, only because the man in power didn't know how to handle his own business properly. And relating it to one of the things that Y/n mentioned, that man didn't change a single bit.

He was about to turn on his tracks, and change his destination again, but he thought about her. Y/n was completely different from that. Of course she came from a rich family, of course she had enough money to cut up her salary to save someone else's position, but how many people in that same situation would've done the same?

He was there for her, he wanted to see her. She was a mere agent when all that blew out, and she had no fault in the way her father managed his business. She was better than all that, and she had proved it time and time again since they talked for the first time.

As he stepped inside the big building, he met up with a tall man with a nice haircut and a trimmed beard waiting behind the counter, looking up to him over his glasses.

—Hey, I'm here to meet Y/n —he nervously informed.

—Miss Y/s, you mean?

He held back that inner huff when the man felt like correcting him. He understood him, so what was exactly the point of calling her by her username?

—Yeah, miss Y/s —San confirmed.

—May I know who's looking for her?

—Choi San —he slowly introduced himself.

—Hold on a second.

The man left him waiting, with both of his hands hanging nervously over the edge of the white counter, while the suited receptionist grabbed the phone to confirm whether she was waiting for a visit or not.

—Her secretary said there's no one under the name of Choi San on her schedule. Would you like to arrange a meeting for tomorrow, instead?

—No, look...

While raising up his finger, the man interrupted him again, paying attention to the person he was talking to on the phone rather than what he had to say.

—Yes, miss Y/s. I'll give him a badge right now —his tone completely changed as he realized Y/n was the one speaking to him at that moment.

A few minutes went by while the receptionist tried to get the badge machine to start working, until the clacking sound of heels interrupted the silent noise of the machine. He looked up curiously, finding Y/n dressed in a black tight knitted dress. Her presence instantly made the receptionist turn to her and stand straight.

She genuinely didn't care about John not letting San walk through easily, because that was exactly the point of his job. He made the first filter that assured the security of the company and those inside. That was why she didn't think of saying anything to him when she saw San at the other side of the counter.

—You should've told me you were here —she said—. Did you make the badge already? —Y/n turned to John, who shook his head.

—The machine was getting started.

—Jennifer prepared a permanent badge half an hour ago, so it should be fine —she told him—. I think Charlotte saved it somewhere with a note with my name.

—Oh, yeah. Here it is.

His colleague had saved it under the computer monitor, without telling him what it was actually about. He handed it over to San, who hung it around his neck as he started walking towards Y/n.

—Also, a new task: any bucket coming for me, feel free to send them all back. Inform Charlotte as well about it. Let's see if that person takes the hint.

After talking, she turned again to San, moving her head to encourage him to walk with her towards the stairs.

—Do you have a secret fan? —he asked first.

—More like a secret creep —she sighed—. I don't know who it is, but I have enough with worrying about everything going on in my life and the company to worry about a clown trying to tease me.

—To tease you? —San asked, confused.

—If that person was dangerous, they'd have tried something else than sending flowers with weird notes —she tried to play it cool—. If those flowers don't ever get to me, they'll end up giving up. By the way —she stopped before reaching the last step—, were you busy when I texted you?

Other than lamenting his clumsy mouth, there was nothing more interesting going on with him that morning.

—No, no.

—You didn't go to class today? —her eyebrow raised.

Through all those late night conversations they had since they met, Y/n was sure he didn't mention a single time missing a class.

—Huh? —his eyes moved from the metallic railing to his shoes, going back to her— Well...

—Was it because of yesterday? —Y/n asked again.

Was he so easy to read? She only had to dedicate one look at him to be able to tell what was wrong with him?

—I shouldn't have asked you to go for that drink —the click of her tongue interrupted his thoughts—. I didn't remember you had to be in class today.

At least that's better than having her knowing he spent the whole morning in bed, whining because of the big idiot he was.

San was confused at how she acted like that kiss never happened. She was so chill and calm, talking to him like she hadn't left his text unanswered for a whole morning, until she felt forced to speak to him; it was almost as if she was confirming what he suspected. While Y/n was doing her best at keeping her doubts and thoughts to herself. Whether she wanted to discuss it or not, she wasn't going to be the one forcing a justification out of him. She was convinced dealing with all of it was already hard enough for him to be making it even more difficult.

—Let's go to my office.

The second they both entered the common area, most of the eyes instantly turned to them. It was like they had a big spotlight pointing at them, with a neon light announcing they'd be walking through the hallways towards the office she worked in.

From behind, and fighting his inner need to look at the way her hips swayed with grace, he managed to notice how her head was raised up, letting her neck adopt the perfect straight posture. And suddenly she felt so distant and intimidating, that he even wondered if it was right to follow her up -despite her inviting him inside.

In the middle of his own anxiety levels increasing, and the fog of judgment from those around him clouded his mind, San tried to focus on what it first pushed him to text Y/n and meet up with her.

He needed to let go of all those thoughts, he wanted Y/n to know that what he said wasn't exactly what he meant. And, for that, he tried to remember Wooyoung's advice earlier that morning.

—Okay, you don't want to talk about it, but I will —the door closing behind them seemed to hit a button, having him put an end to the silence as he tried to get an explanation out of her—. I know the kiss was awful. I bet you're trying to erase it from your memory, and I can't blame you.

Y/n was surprised by how sudden he sounded out of nowhere, focused on his discourse to the point of completely forgetting about his shy aura that usually kept him from discussing things like that.

—When I said I was sorry for kissing you, I meant that I was sorry for putting you through such an uncomfortable situation for a kiss that wasn't worth it. I didn't mean that I didn't like kissing you, because I did like kissing you. It was my first kiss, and possibly the best kiss I'll ever have. But I know it wasn't your first kiss, and possibly you've had way better kisses...

Y/n pressed her lips together, trying to hold back her smile as she listened to his rant, where he barely paused to breathe. She was worried he'd act like it never happened if she didn't mention it, only for San to blow it all out while deeply looking into her eyes.

The lack of air in his lungs started to show off on the marked veins of his neck, and the way his words sounded drowned and forced as his speech went on. She could only think of one way to keep him from passing out at any moment. Holding his cheeks, she took one step towards him and linked their lips together on a soft peck that kept all the remaining words stuck in his throat.

His eyes instantly closed at the gentle touch of her lips on his, letting himself go by how intimidating and warm it felt. He moved his lips first, sucking on her lower lip to deepen the kiss. Although his muscles didn't take long to tense, making his body stiff again, when he was drowned back to the reality that that wasn't the best place to do things like those.

She looked up at him confused as San moved back, breaking the kiss.

—What...?

As she looked down to one of his hands, she noticed his index finger pointing behind her to the people that were pretending to be back to work as soon as she moved to look over her shoulder.

Those damned glass walls.

When she looked back at San, she could notice a soft blush forming on the upper part of his cheeks.

—Why so red? —she giggled.

—I'm not —he shyly smiled, looking down as he touched his face to feel the warmer spots against the reverse of his digits.

—So you were actually worried about me not liking the kiss?

As she walked past him, she could feel his senses completely neutralized by the sweet scent that radiated from her. Her eyes were comprehensive as he followed her gaze, but her pose was so tempting while supporting the weight of her body on the edge of her desk.

—Yeah.

—Why?

—Why? —he frowned at her question, trying to think of an answer.

—Just be honest. I want to know why you thought like that —she shrugged.

—I was nervous, I let myself go with the impulse although I wasn't ready for it. I mean —he closed his eyes momentarily to settle his thoughts—, I was ready, but I wasn't ready to be at your level.

—My level? —she scoffed.

—You kiss so well, and I just... I just looked like a fish flopping around.

—San, it was your first kiss, what did you think I expected? —although she tried to hold back those giggles, all efforts were in vain— We aren't born and know how to do those things. It's something that needs practice. Like the way you express yourself through texts —she joked—. I thought all morning that you regretted it.

—No. Of course not. I just thought you were disappointed last night.

—Oh, you should also improve those body language readings as well —she mumbled, grimacing at his words—. Wait, is it because I kissed you on the cheek instead of the lips when I dropped you off?

And San finally saw some sense in the way he overreacted. Of course it was that. The first thought that crossed his mind as soon as he laid on the bed was that, if she had liked the kiss, she'd have kissed him back in the car, instead of going for his cheek.

—San —she whined, face palming her forehead—. Okay. Let's be direct with each other from now on, and I'll start by making it clear for you: I liked it, a lot. Because it was you. No disappointments, no regrets. I just kissed you on the cheek because it felt less invasive. I know you're shy, and I thought that maybe a goodbye kiss on the lips would've made you uncomfortable.

If she was already his ideal woman through texts, meeting her in real life made him believe he had won the lottery. She respected his space and rhythm, and she tried to adapt to his pace. She was clear and comprehensive with him, and it actually made him wonder how many others would be so lucky to meet someone like that.

—Is that so? —his lips puckered while the corners lifted slightly.

Y/n scoffed again, shaking her head in disbelief at how easily it was for Sun to get flustered at the same time his cheeks lighted up again.

—Quit that smile —she pointed at him—. Look at how fast we would've solved things out if you just had called me last night with this.

San nodded, but he still smiled through his efforts to keep a straight face.

—Was this why you wanted to meet up?

—Yeah. Also —he scratched his nape—, one of my friends' girlfriends is planning a trip to Cape Cod this weekend, and they wanted you to join. I know we said we wouldn't do it again —he tried to be careful with his words—, but Meghan, she's Yeosang's girlfriend by the way —he added, as if that extra information was needed—, thought it'd be a good idea to have you there, too.

—Yeah, about that... —Y/n started— I need a favor from you.

—Hmm?

—We're planning an event, and I kinda said you'd come with me —she shrugged as she innocently smiled.

—An event?

—I'm sorry, I just got carried on by the asshole of Tim, and said you'd attend with me. It's okay, you don't have to do that. I know last time was too much.

—No, I can do that —he nodded—. I can do that if you want me to be there.

—Are you sure?

Last time it was more lighthearted than what those events tended to be, and she knew the pressure that San already was on during that barbeque.

—I'll just prepare better for my role as an engineer in Vancouver. There will be no flaws this time —he chuckled—. Would you... I mean, just if you want... Do you want us to have dinner together?

Y/n then realized the time it was. It was still early to have dinner, but she didn't want him to go so early. He came all the way from his house to her office just because she told him to meet up.

—Can you hang on for thirty minutes? I need to finish up some documents.

When she first told him to meet up, her schedule was completely clear. But suddenly her email was flooded with requests of reports that needed to be handed before she left.

—Yeah, sure —he nodded, walking around nervously.

As she tapped on her computer, her eyes went up to him, smiling while he wandered around the room with his hands inside the pockets of his jeans. It was impressive how any style suited him, to the point of having her gushing over him. Until his clumsiness kicked in. His face grimaced, momentarily scared, when he almost dropped something from the shelf that was over the couch, making her silently laugh as she focused back on the screen.

San's eyes uncontrollably fell on her every few seconds, moving away quickly before she could notice it, but enough to appreciate how delicate her features seemed whenever she was concentrating on something.

They were playing tag with one another, until their eyes coincidentally moved to each other at the same time, ending with both of them moving their gazes away while smiling.

Two knocks on her door broke all that silly game, having her aiming her eyes at her father stepping inside her office.

—Am I bothering you?

—Hmm no —she shook her head.

—I'll be leaving earlier today, so just send those reports to the head of administration, and put me on cc —he explained—. Your mother prepared me roasted ribs.

And right when he was about to start salivating, he found San looking curiously at them after looking around his daughter's office.

—Oh, San. I didn't know you were here.

Harry walked over to him to greet him, but somehow it felt different to the other two times. Anxiety and nervousness were replaced by some type of distrust and discomfort that Y/n couldn't ignore. It was different from the other times, where he was visibly nervous by the situation itself. Now it clearly seemed like his discomfort was due to her father.

—Do you want to come over for dinner?

—Actually —Y/n interrupted, before San felt forced to reject the offer—, we already had plans.

—Okay, then —he greeted, heading to the door—. Have fun —he winked at his daughter one last time before stepping out of the office.

Y/n saw San sitting again on the couch, slowly going back to his calm and relaxed persona whenever he was around her. Although she wasn't going to ask him about it right in that moment, it was something to leave it better when they were in a more intimate space.

***

He took the bag with food from her hand so she'd be able to reach for her keys, earning a sweet smile from her before she started walking to her door again. He waited for her to step inside first, despite knowing the way inside her house after being there before.

—Do you mind if I get changed? —she turned to him, getting San to slowly shake his head— You can sit wherever you want: the dinner table, the couch... up to you.

And just like she told him, he did. San looked around first, trying to choose the right place, and ended up walking towards the coffee table in front of her long couch. Not shortly after she was back with him, wearing a pair of baggy pants and an oversized t-shirt, whose edge danced on her lap when she happily trotted to where he was.

—Are you hungry? —he chuckled.

—Very —she sat next to him—. I ate earlier today because I had a meeting at my usual lunch time. I could've gone later, but it sits wrong with my body whenever I do. It's weird.

—I've only had a plate of pasta before going to the gym —he commented, taking the food out of the bags.

—Oh, so you went to the gym —she asked, picking one of her french fries—. Did you do it on purpose before coming to see me?

San instantly had that nervous expression again, moving his lips to speak, but without a single word coming out of them.

—What did you do? —Y/n asked, smiling maliciously while ignoring her own teasing.

—It was back and arms day.

—I can't believe you don't get hit on there —Y/n mentioned, biting on her burger.

—I do —he nodded—. I mean, it's not something that happens every day, but it's happened. Let's just say you need a Doctorate in patience with me —he mumbled, unwrapping his burger.

—What are you talking about? It's not that bad —she assured him—. With a Bachelor's degree it's alright —Y/n stopped to change the tone again—. I don't think it's that bad.

—Because you're different —San reached for a napkin when he spotted the bit of mayonnaise in the corner of her lips—. You'd see the weirdest thing, and you'd still find its positive side.

While he was right, he was missing something important, and it was how powerful his aura was despite him not being aware of it. And it was there again, as he leaned over her a bit to clean off her mouth while looking directly at it, her whole body froze for him, and he still believed he didn't have that power.

—Maybe the one who doesn't have good eyesight it's you —he replied back —. I only pay attention to things that are worth it. So if that weird thing got my attention at first, it's good enough already. If I think it's cute, then it's over the top. So do with that information what you want —as she was to look out for ketchup, her tongue clicked when she didn't find any—. They didn't add ketchup.

—Do you have?

—Yeah, in the fridge.

She remembered it's one of the few things she had there specifically because of that.

Y/n was going to stop him, but San was already midway when she realized. She paid for the food, and made extra effort to make him feel comfortable. The least he could do was try hard to make her feel better.

As he opened the fridge, he first looked for the sauce, but his eyes got stuck in the small boxes he only managed to see from afar. It looked like some type of medication, although he couldn't really tell what it was by its name alone. He went back to her quickly though, trying to remember the name as he grabbed the bottle, with the thought of searching it up later.

—Thank you —she smiled widely at him—. I was thinking... Earlier this afternoon, you looked so serious when seeing my dad, did something happen?

Of course he was so obvious that Y/n could tell. He completely forgot she was an ace while reading people's body language.

—I was just nervous.

—Still?

—Because of a man that could end me with a snap of a finger? Yes —he lied.

—And you think I'd allow him to do that to you? —she challenged him, taking one french fry with ketchup on its tip to her lips.

—Are you my guardian? —he laughed.

—Of course I am! You look tough and big, and you're way taller, but I'll protect you.

Being around Y/n was always a good experience for San. Although he didn't know her for long, she always managed to make him feel in a safe place, like he was with anyone else from his group of friends.

It could be that they didn't have a lot of things in common, but they always managed to build a long conversation around those topics. And, even if it wasn't about one of their mutual interests, they both made it seem like it was. It was all so fluid and easy, that both of them felt like they were back to when they started speaking through long phone calls. It was all that again, but better because he was able to see the way her eyes lit up and she was able to appreciate the way his dimples deepened as his smile got wider.

—And I remember my dad told me to just stop taking taekwondo lessons. He was the one who encouraged me to go, until I broke someone's nose.

—I bet that little shit deserved it —she shook her head.

—A little bit, yeah.

Y/n found him attractive already, but nothing beated the way he looked when he was just being himself, completely relaxed and talkative. Not only because he radiated confidence like that, but it was also precious for her. He wasn't the type to be open like that with a lot of people, but he was like that with her. And it made her think how all that patience was completely worth it if she was going to see him like that.

—What? —he smiled shyly, noticing the way her eyes scanned all over his face.

—We said we would be honest and direct with each other, right?

San nodded, unsure of where that comment was coming from.

—I really want to kiss you right now —she admitted.

—I want to be really honest, too. I'm dying to kiss you, too.

Her fingers caressing the pecks on his neck, combined with that happy smile, made some part of his brain tickle, and he was ready to deal with that sensation increasing its feeling.

Her lips felt so addictive the two times she kissed him, but it didn't feel like that night. Something was urging him to hold her closer with his hands on her waist, and never let go until their lips were swollen and they both felt dizzy.

—Just follow me, okay? —she whispered, breaking the kiss just to link their lips together again after he nodded.

She controlled the way he moved by imposing her movements, moving her head to find the right angle, tasting each bit of skin, just getting him used to her. Some of the first times San found himself kissing blindly where he wasn't supposed to, aiming sometimes in the air, until he got used to her slow pace, feeling all of his hairs rising whenever he got a taste of her inner lip.

Y/n broke the kiss again, looking at him under her eyelashes, and noticing how thick and heavy his eyelids seemed as he tried to look at her.

—I'll add a bit of tongue, alright?

San waited for her lips to cover his again, but instead he only felt her slowly rubbing them against his. The tip of her tongue traced the line of his lower lip so gently that he thought his spine would melt at any moment. Instinctively, his lips parted and Y/n took that invitation freely, sliding the tip inside and rubbing it against his. His reaction was hidden behind the need to want more and focus on what she was doing to learn from it, and mirror it.

She took it slow, she was patient, Y/n just wanted him to feel comfortable before going on. She always waited for him to move, and imitate what she did, before she continued.

Their lips popped loudly when they broke apart for the first time, and that sound alone started waking up something in him. Blinded by her, he moved forward, feeling a perfectly marked pain in his frontal teeth as he moved way too fast, ending up hitting against hers.

—Oh my god, I'm sorry —he mumbled, seeing her forcibly moving back due to pain.

—It's okay —her hand covered his wrist, trying to help him take it easy—. Let's go for it again.

He did exactly what Y/n did, he imitated everything he felt, playing with his fingers on the fold on the side of her t-shirt. Her hand, still on his wrist, tried to appease him, while the hand on his neck moved up to his cheek to rub her thumb on his skin.

The kiss was still sloppy, despite being slow, but damn wasn't it making her go crazy every time his tongue rubbed on hers. She wasn't able to control her gasps, just like he gave up a few times by airing out some of his groans whenever her fingers digged on his scalp.

She wanted to kiss him until he got it perfect, and she genuinely didn't mind if they spent hours like that. But he stopped before she could even think of making it real, covering every corner of her mouth with small kisses before he looked at her.

Both of their lips were shiny, coated with each other's saliva, and parted as they tried to recover some of the air that left their lungs.

—Did I pass the test?

—Hmm, I won't mind giving you some extra classes —she joked, licking her lips.

—We should leave those extra classes for another day though. I think I should get home now.

And he was afraid that, if he kept falling into Y/n's trap, he'd fall into something that it'd be difficult for him to escape. And he didn't want to make her uncomfortable with the consequences of those kisses.

—Is everything okay?

—Yeah, just that... You kiss so well, and you're so tempting, that I doubt I'll be able to control my body if we keep on like this. And I don't mean it in the wrong way —he quickly corrected himself—. I'm not going to force you into anything, that's exactly why I'm leaving. Not —he sighed— not because of that.

Y/n snorted as she saw him struggling with his words, trying to explain to her what was going on, but being careful with his words so as not to hurt her.

—Are you laughing? —he tilted his head.

—No —she tried to lie—, just a bit. But not of you, I promise.

—I'm just trying to say that I was getting hard, but I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable.

—I guessed so —she nodded.

He was just looking at her surprised by the way those words just came out of his mouth.

The fact that he was so honest and straight to the point, with no fake excuses, made her laugh. But it was most definitely excitement over seeing him more comfortable around her than the words themselves. She probably would've just shrugged it off at a man being decent towards her -which wasn't exactly the case in her dating life, but with San she appreciated it a bit more because she knew where she was coming from.

Holding his cheeks, she planted a peck on his lips so he'd just stop overthinking and ranting until running out of air.

It was alright. Those things happened.

—I'll take the keys —she let him know.

—You always drive me home, I'll get there by myself —he assured her.

—You sure?

—Hmm —he nodded—. I'll send you a text when I get home.

It was like an impulse, something that got from his inner self and he wasn't able to control. He didn't kiss her lips or her cheek, his lips fell on her forehead. And Y/n was sure that certainly felt way more intimate and close than any other make out session. Such a small gesture had her cheeks burning up, and her smile drawing across her face.

And that smile was something he kept thinking of after he arrived home, that smile was the only thing in his head as he got changed and laid in his bed. And it only felt right that Y/n was the one taking control of each one of his thoughts after that evening, only clouded by one quick thought that made him frown.

Exiting their chat, he opened the navigator, typing each one of the letters that were written in those boxes.

Copaxone: is thought to modify immune processes believed to be responsible for activating MS.. It's not clear how glatiramer acetate (Copaxone or Brabio) works. It seems to kill the immune cells that attack the coating (myelin) around nerves in your brain and spinal cord. You inject it under your skin once a day or, at a higher dose, three times a week.

Y/n was sick?

[hyena-frog]

I failed the driving test today :)))

[darlingsart]

Quick doodle of a not so modern au this time, where everyone is happy and lives and Pat and Achilles build a cottage somewhere and raise Pyrrhus instead of dying in a war lmao

[sparkly-skies]

@reserved-fruit thank you for the link to this video with Kris' heart ring (goes perfectly with Keep Me Grounded, Keep Me Calm, just saying 👀 do you like friends (Bojan and Kris) comforting each other and jokingly proposing while still being deeply serious about how important their friendship is? Go read this!).

Here's some screenshots to look at with me, why? Because I'm a touchstarved bitch and scream and cry at any sighting of physical affection. Thank you Bojan for providing enrichment in my enclosure.

Also this one. Because I see a mention of friends spending time together because they love each other and love spending time together, I scream and screech in missing my friends noises.

[moonpaw]

ohh ohhhh... luffy's dream is having a massive party

it's both so very luffy but also childish and easy for someone to laugh at

[icewindandboringhorror]

I have a big google doc thing where I keep track of media and stuff (putting everything in loosely ranked categories), which is mostly just for my own reference so I know what tv shows I've already seen before, etc. and I never really look back through it, typically just a quick "okay, watched two movie in the past 8 months, need to quickly slap them somewhere in the lists. okay. done. save document. exit". But today I was actually reading through some of the old notes and there are like... MULTIPLE places where my comment is basically "It would have been good if it were about elves" or "I wish there was a fantasy show made in this same style" or "It's well made, but I just keep thinking about how I would like it more if everyone was an elf or was in old 1700s costumes" or etc like...... lol.... Most biased media ranking system on earth blatantly made by someone with an extremely hyperspecific range of narrow interests. It'd be like if a food reviewer only had 5 foods they actually liked, so they'd just go to a pizza place and be like "eh, the pizza was okay, but I just think it would be better if it was cereal instead. :/ ...2 out of 10"

[bisexualrapline]

i hate army twitter lmao someone remind me not to go on there ever

[dirt-str1der]

Love characterising nishikiyama as a booze hound drug hound meth addict high every day body mass 75% alcohol hands constantly shaking literally spacing out while driving fifty over the speed limit using elderly folk as speedbumps one hand on the wheel and one hand free to do more drugs and coming into work while functionally deaf and blind and he is still leagues more competent at his job than kiryu

[oatbugs]

. anyway after writing the tags 4 this post i told my research partner i will no longer follow his dreams lmao. still helping w it but i need to engage in research that i find satisfying