#if you didn't like her era that's okay you can have your opinion but please keep it away from people who are just trying to have fun

[thatsarealfuckinglegacy]

why do people feel the need to be so hateful? if you don't like something you don't have to interact, there's literally nothing stopping you from just scrolling past. but no, they have to say how much they hate something. just let other people enjoy what they enjoy, please!

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [3]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 2 | Fic Masterlist | Part 4

"I can't believe I finally have a bed of my own..." You whispered as the head maid disappeared from sight, closing the doors to your room behind her. The sheets were practically brand new, and you ran your hand across the smooth fabric, sighing in content before allowing yourself to lay down.

You failed to understand why the previous noblewomen set to marry Seonghwa would choose to escape from this. In your opinion, the general appeared quite generous.

Despite not knowing you or any of his past fiancées personally, he was considerate enough to provide each and every one of you with accommodation and basic necessities. These were luxuries even your own family had failed to offer you. He was already treating you better than anyone you had ever encountered in your life.

You couldn't fight the small smile forming on your face as you looked around your room, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude. In a short span of time, the general had managed to surprise you in more ways than one, and you certainly weren't complaining.

It still made you anxious to think of facing him again, given your less-than-ideal first meeting. He had already accused you of being insincere but proceeded to be kind in his actions.

Honestly, his behaviour left you perplexed.

At the same time, it ignited hope within you—a hope that maybe, in the presence of the supposedly heartless General Park, you could find the opportunity to change your life, for he had shown you more mercy than your own family ever had.

"Happiness... can I find it here?"

The words escaped your lips in a soft whisper before the unfamiliar soft sheets of your bed welcomed you into a deep slumber. Having grown used to sleeping on the floor back home, the sudden luxury brought an unexpected level of comfort, lulling you to sleep like magic.

Unbeknownst to you, Jongho and Eunsook had stationed themselves just outside your quarters, hoping to catch any suspicious conversations that might indicate your actions were part of a scheme orchestrated by your father to undermine their master. To their relief, they heard nothing of the sort.

"Sounds like she's fast asleep. That was quick." The assistant muttered, a faint smile playing on his lips.

The head maid nodded, her expression softening, "Can you blame her? She travelled all this way by herself. Oh, Jongho, you should've seen her earlier... She was genuinely pleased with this room. Not only that, she apologised for having nothing with her and even thanked me as if I had saved her life, all because of dinner."

Eunsook raised a brow as the younger man didn't appear overly surprised by the revelation. He sighed, "I believe you, all right. When I found her, she was wandering by the front doors alone, without servants or palanquin bearers. And that's not the worst; she bowed back to every servant on the way to the main hall."

The elderly woman nodded eagerly, "Yes, yes! She even bowed to me; it was the wildest thing I have ever seen!"

Jongho shook his head, "Something is definitely up; we have to find out what's happening. I don't believe for a second that the minister would have been okay with his own daughter being treated like this."

Eunsook had to agree.

"Whatever it is, I won't lie that I'm hoping for her to be our mistress for good. She's the first noblewoman not to yell or speak rudely to me. Having one of master is enough; I'm sure we could all use a kind and soft-spoken mistress around here."

The assistant didn't have to say anything for the head maid to understand that he, too, wished for the exact same thing. Despite their loyalty and attachment to the general over the years, they couldn't ignore the fact that his unpredictable anger issues turned him into a ticking time bomb. Tiptoeing around him and walking on eggshells had become exhausting on most days.

Before they could continue their hushed conversation, a servant approached them with wide eyes, "Jongho! Eunsook! The master has summoned you both to his study!"

The two gasped and nodded, "R-right, we'll be there at once!"

Speak of the devil.

Seonghwa's typically composed demeanour seemed overtaken by frustration as he glared at his desk. If looks could kill, the poor piece of furniture might have been sliced in half. The two employees exchanged a wary glance, inhaling deeply to steel themselves before entering the study, "Master, you called for us?"

They stood straight as a plank, anticipating the impending outburst from the general.

But it never came.

"I'm confused." The two blinked, awaiting further explanation.

Yeah, so are we.

"I don't like being confused because I'm never confused. Does she even know who I am? The audacity of this woman..." He muttered lowly, clenching his fists.

It infuriated him that he found it difficult to read you. Usually, he prided himself on being able to see through almost anyone, and this situation wounded his pride, sparking anger within him. How dare you waltz in here and change all that? Who did you think you were? But what he despised even more was his struggle to be angry with you. The innocence in your eyes was impossible to deny.

And he hated it with a passion.

Finally lifting his gaze, he bore a glare into his assistant and head maid, "You two, I want you to tell me every single thing that happened when you were with her."

If Seonghwa believed his confusion would be dispelled after hearing what his aide had to share, he was wrong. He was left feeling more confused than ever.

"She was at the entrance... by herself?"

"Yes, sir."

"Without any servants or palanquin bearers?"

"Yes, sir."

"And she... bowed to all the servants?"

"Yes, sir."

Narrowing his eyes, the general pushed himself off his seat, scoffing lightly in disbelief, "I don't know what she or her father is trying to get out of me, but I will not be foolish enough to walk into their trap. This must all be part of her act; I'm sure of it."

However, the reminder of her currently being at her quarters brings a devious grin to his face, "She can pretend all she wants, but no sane person will willingly agree to stay in The Cold Palace. Tell me, Eunsook, I want to hear all about her reaction to my masterpiece. Oh, it must be priceless."

The head maid cleared her throat, recognising that her master might not appreciate her response, "W-well, you see, master—"

"No, wait, don't tell me," He held up a hand, stopping her abruptly, "I want to hear it from her myself. Get her to the dining hall on time, Eunsook. I'm sure it'll be wonderful; our first and last dinner together."

All the previous candidates for marriage were given quarters that, despite being less than ideal, were still superior to yours. And they all fled at the mere sight of it, unable to endure even a single day. No matter how skilled you were at acting indifferent, the general was convinced that The Cold Palace would likely be your breaking point. He imagined you gaping in disgust, desperately trying to tolerate it for the time being.

Oh, he couldn't wait to see you finally break character and unleash your frustration, berating him for the mistreatment and expressing your disappointment in him. He looked forward to enjoying the view of your back to him, storming away from his estate, never to return.

The Cold Palace has to be a foolproof plan.

It has to be.

Except it really wasn't.

Jongho knew that. Eunsook knew that.

Every other servant in the estate knew that.

But Seonghwa didn't. And that was a problem, a huge one. The assistant and head maid feared for your well-being. They were well aware that pride held great significance for their master, and your presence was undoubtedly going to bruise it severely.

Knowing the general, he wouldn't let you off the hook easily when that realisation hit. They worried about the drastic measures he might take to scare you into leaving.

Eunsook couldn't linger on those concerns for long as the kitchen staff alerted her that dinner preparations were nearing completion. Letting out a deep sigh, she rushed to your quarters, hoping to assist you in getting ready and ensuring you wouldn't be tardy. The last thing she wanted was for you to further get on the general's bad side.

It struck her then that she was already developing a sense of protectiveness toward you, even though she hadn't known you long or well enough to warrant such feelings. Despite her master's adamant belief in you putting on an act, she had witnessed firsthand to know that it was far from the truth.

Approaching the garden path leading to your quarters, she addressed the servants working there, "Has the mistress sought assistance from any of you?" They shook their heads, "No, she hasn't. In fact, she barely made a sound since her arrival."

"Really? I expected her to at least request a bath after the long journey she took to get here. No matter, I'll ensure she's prepared for dinner." The head maid shook her head, finding your behaviour less surprising with each passing moment.

Pausing at your room's entrance, she called out cautiously, "Mistress, may I enter, please?" She heard a faint shuffle and observed your silhouette through the thin paper walls as you approached, "Hold on, I'll be right there!"

She was taken aback to see you hurrying over just to open the door for her, "Oh dear, mistress! All you had to do was grant me permission, and I would have entered. There's no need for you to come all the way just to open the door for me, please!"

The small, sheepish smile on your face had affected the elderly woman more than you realised, her heart melting as she found you incredibly endearing.

"I'm sorry; I'll learn to do that next time."

Eunsook sighed, "You have nothing to be sorry for, mistress." She murmured, observing you with a motherly softness in her eyes.

She wondered if this was the reason the minister had kept you hidden all these years. Perhaps he wanted to shield you from the cruel world due to your innocence and precious nature. But the puzzle pieces didn't fit when she recalled how Jongho had found you – alone and abandoned.

So, what was really going on?

What was going through the minister's mind, and what exactly did you experience to turn out like this?

"Well, I've come to let you know that dinner is almost ready." She observed your face light up at the mention of food, and a simultaneous growl emanated from your stomach, prompting her to chuckle at the embarrassed blush dusting your cheeks.

Why didn't you just ask the servants around to bring you a snack if you were so hungry? Eunsook wondered to herself.

"I'm also here to assist you in getting ready, in case you'd like to change or anything." You shrugged and shook your head, and she recalled your nearly empty duffel bag. Oh dear, you didn't even have clothes to change into.

"That's alright. Let me just tidy up your hair and give your makeup a little touch-up, and we can go. How does that sound, mistress?" You nodded, responding softly, "Yes, please."

The head maid resisted the urge to coo out loud as she led you to the vanity table in your room. She grimaced as she took in the condition of the mirror in front of you, wearing out just like all the other furniture in here. The reflection was no longer clear due to its old age, but you remained unfazed as you waited for her to work her magic.

Not wanting to further waste any time, Eunsook was quick in her movements as she helped comb up the strands of hair that came loose and added some more foundation where your previous makeup was smeared from your little nap.

"There, all set. You look beautiful, mistress."

Your smile faltered slightly at that before you thanked her for the compliment, suddenly being reminded that she would not be thinking that for long. She would no longer consider you beautiful when she sees you without all these enhancements.

"Come, let me take you to the dining hall before we're late." You trailed behind her obediently, your heart thumping in excitement just thinking about what they could be serving for dinner.

Your worries could wait.

For now, just for now, perhaps you could finally experience what it was like to enjoy a nice and warm meal.

Or not.

Your steps slowed down a bit when you caught a glimpse of your new husband already waiting in the hall, "I-I'm having dinner with General Park?" The elderly woman wore an apologetic smile as she nodded, "Yes, mistress."

Of course.

Who else would you need to look beautiful for, if not the general?

Eunsook wished she could warn you of what was to come, but even she had no clue as to what her master could possibly say or do tonight. She could only pray that he goes easy on you, "Let's go."

Entering the dining hall, you felt a mix of nerves and anticipation. The grandeur of the room was overwhelming, and you couldn't help but steal a glance at the general. His stern expression didn't reveal much, leaving you wondering about his thoughts.

The head maid bowed before presenting you, "Master, Miss Jang has arrived for dinner."

Seonghwa nodded in acknowledgement, "Ah yes, I've been waiting. Come take a seat, wife."

"Good evening, my lord." You bowed and approached the table cautiously, settling beside him. Your eyes widened as you marvelled at the colourful dishes laid out, and the tantalising aroma made it difficult to resist the urge to dive in.

Although you hadn't shared any meals with your family, you knew enough to remember the basic etiquette: the eldest or head of the house should start eating first. So, you patiently watched his untouched chopsticks, hoping he would initiate the meal.

To say he was merely annoyed by your apparent fixation on the food would be an understatement. The fact that you remained so nonchalant, especially after spending half a day in that pathetic excuse for a room, irked him. You should have been making a big fuss about it by now.

Instead, there you sat, seemingly drooling at the sight of the food but still polite enough not to start eating first. Your impeccable manners were getting on his nerves.

Still keeping up with the act, huh?

Smirking, he moved his hands from his lap to the table. Your immediate straightening up betrayed your anticipation, thinking he was about to grab his utensils. However, your disappointment was palpable when he only moved to rest his elbows on the table, intertwining his fingers.

"So, tell me, wife. How do you like your new quarters?" He pressed, a sly grin playing on his lips.

This is it; this is your chance.

This was the moment, your opportunity to convey your gratitude for his generosity. Maybe, by expressing your thankfulness, you could open a path for him to consider accepting you more readily as his wife. And then, both of you could finally savour these delightful dishes together.

Unlike you, Eunsook, in her corner, wasn't as optimistic. She tensed immediately, sensing that the impending drama was just about to unfold with his question.

With a wide smile, you started, "Oh, I couldn't be happier with it, my lord. I want to thank you for your thoughtfulness. The room is beyond my expectations; it's everything I could ever wish for and more. It was so comfortable that I'd already had a good rest before coming here."

Seonghwa's grin wavered at your words, his eyes narrowing dangerously at you. You blinked, perplexed by the threatening glare he directed your way despite the genuine sincerity in your words.

After what felt like an eternity, he scoffed in disbelief before growling, "Are you mocking me, Miss Jang?"

You gasped, shooting up from your seat immediately. You shook your head furiously, "N-no, I wouldn't dare! I meant every word—"

But he leaned back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest in amusement, "Is that right? This must all be very entertaining for you, huh? I know you're only here because your father has some ulterior motive. You sure are a skilled actress; I see now that the minister has trained you well all these years. And now you're finally old enough to come carry out his dirty work for him."

Feeling wrongfully accused, you fell to your knees and cried. You wished he would just listen to you, "Please, that's not true..."

Eunsook could only lower her head in pity, wishing there was anything at all that she could do for you, but intervening might get her into a whole lot of trouble. She squeezed her eyes shut and hoped for the best.

Rising from his seat, Seonghwa approached and tilted your chin upward, forcing you to meet his gaze, "You can repeat those words all you want, my dear. I didn't expect you to come here and admit to me that easily. I know you and your father are scheming something. Feel free to send him my regards. Tell him General Park is not foolish enough to fall for this little act."

Tears streamed down your face as you bowed all the way down, pressing your forehead against the cold floor tiles, pleading, "I beg you to believe me; that's not true at all."

Suppressing the subtle pang in his chest at the sight of your desperate plea to clear your name, he maintained his resolve, telling himself not to be easily swayed, "If you're so eager to prove your innocence, then you can remain there on your knees all night."

Detecting his head of maid's intention to step in, he shot the elderly woman a warning glare before she could utter a word, "I've lost all my appetite. Dispose of all the food here."

You sobbed against the floor, once again reminded of why they called him the cold-hearted general as you listened to Eunsook let out a strained, "Yes, master," before hearing the sound of your new husband's footsteps stalking angrily out of the dining hall.

All your hopes of sharing a meal and gaining his favour crumbled in just a moment. Even far from your family home, your father still had the means to torment you. You acknowledged that Seonghwa's struggle to trust you was influenced by the minister, and your mysterious identity only complicated matters. A sense of heartbreak overwhelmed you as you questioned if anyone would ever believe your side of the story.

If you were to reveal that the precious eldest daughter of the Minister of Military Affairs had been confined and subjected to torture like a prisoner in her own home for all these years, who would believe you?

The servants exchanged sympathetic glances as they hastily cleared the table, removing all the untouched dishes as per the general's directive. Despite their desire to help you, they understood the consequences of defying their master's orders.

Remaining on the ground even after the other servants left the dining hall, Eunsook knelt beside you, gently trying to lift you up by your shoulders, "Come, mistress. Let me take you back to your quarters."

"N-no! I m-must remain here all night t-to prove my innocence," You whimpered, shattering the elderly woman's heart once more, "Mistress, I'm sure master doesn't really mean that. Perhaps he was only saying it out of anger."

Despite her efforts, she couldn't persuade you to stand. You remained resolute, anchored to the spot. However, Eunsook worried for you. You hadn't taken a single bite of food since your arrival, and it had been who knew how long since your last meal. The idea of you kneeling there all night seemed ridiculous. Surely, her master didn't mean it literally.

« Preview of Part 4 »

Jongho's eyes widened upon hearing the head maid's latest update, "She's still kneeling in the dining hall?"

Deciding they couldn't let this continue, the two staff members gathered their courage and approached the general's private quarters, only to find the room empty. To their surprise, Seonghwa was still in his study at this late hour, an unusual occurrence as he was typically asleep by now.

Perhaps the guilt was keeping him up.

"S-sir, may we enter, please?" The assistant called out, breathing a sigh of relief when their master broke out of his trance and nodded, "What is it? Why are you both still up so late?"

Eunsook nervously cleared her throat, "Master, we wanted to let you know that Miss Jang hasn't moved from her spot in the dining hall since dinner."

The general's eyebrows shot up in surprise before he composed himself, "What a fool. Did she genuinely believe that kneeling all night would prove her innocence? She'll have to do much more than that." He rolled his eyes, but his employees could see through the façade.

"Take her back to her quarters before she frightens the servants who will be there to prepare breakfast soon."

Just a heads up, I apologise if the next part takes slightly longer to come out because I've fallen sick since yesterday. Even for this part, I was working on it between my rest.

Aside from that, thank you for 700+ followers! And as always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sanstreasure0305 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[dixons-sunshine]

hi I just wanted to start with I really love your writing its just so good. I do have a request and if your not interested its okay it is angst but with a possible happy ending.

so its a daryl x reader where before the apocalypse r and daryl were together and they ended things right before everything went to shit and then when the group gets to Alexandria r is there and she has kid/s (maybe twins?? boy and girl??) so turns out r found out she was pregnant right when everything started happening so daryl didn't know and idk he like puts two and two together yk? and if you're okay with it can she be hispanic/ latin (maybe that can be one of the reasons they broke up bc yk merl is an ass to POC)

anyways sorry if that was a lot or didn't make sense

anyways have a good day/night much love <3

Two Plus Two Makes Four | Daryl Dixon x Hispanic!Fem!Reader

Summary: A week before the apocalypse, Daryl was forced to break up with you by Merle, leaving you heartbroken, but not alone—soon after he left, you found out you were pregnant. Now, two years later, you come face to face again with the man that broke your heart, and he finds out something shocking.

Genre: Angst, some fluff towards the end.

Era: Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth.

Word count: 1.3k

A/n: Sorry this took so long to finish. I hope this is good enough to make up for the wait! Please note that I used Google translate for this, so the translations may be incorrect or awkward! Feel free to correct me if you spot any mistakes! (Translations will be at the bottom.)

—

“Kids?! Ya were pregnant and ya didn't fuckin' tell me?!” Daryl bellowed angrily, grabbing your arm to halt you from walking away from him.

You ripped your hand from his grip. “¡No me toques!” You spun around, furiously pointing a finger in your ex boyfriend's direction. “Don't you even dare put this on me, Dixon! You left. You walked out because you cared more about your brother's opinion than you did me! I'm sorry I wasn't gonna baby trap a man who didn't wanna be with me!”

“I deserved to know! I missed two years of their lives 'cause ya didn't tell me! I could of been there fer 'em, for ya, but ya chose to keep it from me!” Daryl exclaimed angrily, following you as you walked into your kitchen. “How could ya keep tha' from me?!”

“You chose to run to your brother the first chance you got! Four years down the drain in an instant for that racist asshole. I didn't owe you anything after that, maldito idiota!”

Daryl stopped in his tracks, instantly regretting starting up this particular argument. You spoke nothing but the truth. You didn't owe him anything. After all, it was him who walked out on you. He chose to let Merle's judgement get to him and influence his relationship. Hell, if it weren't for Merle, he would have proposed to you. He already had a ring picked out and everything back then, but he let Merle ruin everything. It was his own stupidity that cost him two years of his children's lives.

“Mama?”

At the sound of a small, timid voice coming from behind you, both you and Daryl turned and came face to face with your kids, your two year old twins. Your son, Luka, was nervously looking up at you and Daryl while your daughter, Camilla, was standing behind him, holding his hand.

Daryl was struck by the similarities both children shared with him. They both had his eyes, and his hair colour. They were spitting images of him. There was no doubt in his mind that these two children were his. He wasn't blind. He could see they were.

“Everything's fine, amores. I'm just having a conversation with Mr Dixon.”

Camilla stepped forward, her eyes lighting up with wonder. She looked up at Daryl, a smile spreading across her chubby cheeks. “Dixon?” she asked, pointing up at him. “Papa?”

Daryl was surprised. He looked up at you in confusion, silently asking for an explanation. You sent him a strained smile, forcing a relaxed look in front of your children.

“I always talk about you. They deserve to know who their father is. Well, who he was before he left me,” you explained, looking back down at Camilla and Luka.

“Papa?” Luka asked as he stepped forward, his blue eyes that reflected Daryl's sparkling with wonder. “Our papa?”

Daryl looked at you for permission, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. You nodded, silently giving him permission. He was their dad, after all, and he had just as much right to have a relationship with them as you, even if he did leave you. However, that was between him and you, and your children didn't deserve to be denied a relationship with their dad because of it.

The archer bent down, looking between Luka and Camilla as they stared at him in wonder. “Yeah, m'yer papa. M'sorry I wasn't here before, but m'here now. I ain't goin' nowhere.”

Daryl wasn't sure how much of his speech they understood, if they understood anything at all, but it didn't matter. The speech was mainly meant for you. It was to let you know that he wanted to be a part of their lives, and there was just about nothing that could stop him from that.

Camilla and Luka, as if having some sort of twin power, both simultaneously rushed forward and into his arms. Daryl wasted no time in hugging them back, somehow managing to pick them both up and rest them comfortably in his arms. It was relatively late, nearly eight at night and well past their bed times, so they rested their heads on his shoulders, making Daryl's heart swell with fondness. They didn't even know him, only having heard of him through the stories you told them, but they already trusted him. And even though he just found out he had kids, he would kill for them.

“We need to talk, sunshine. This ain't somethin' we can just sweep under the rug,” he told you, allowing you to take Luka from his arms to lighten the load. He adjusted his hold on Camilla, letting out a fond chuckle when he heard her yawn and nuzzle her face deeper into his shoulder.

You let out a sigh and nodded. “I know. But let's get these dormilones to bed first.”

Approximately half an hour later, the twins were tucked into bed and asleep. You and Daryl were back in the kitchen, both having a glass of wine in your hands—liquid courage for the conversation you were about to have.

“M'sorry fer leavin' ya,” Daryl broke the silence first, nervously sloshing the liquid around in his glass. “I dun' even know why I did. Merle's opinions should've never influenced our relationship. I loved ya. I still do. I regret leavin' ya more than anythin' else in my life.”

You inhaled deeply, willing the tears away. For two years you had wanted an explanation, and now you were finally getting one. However, hearing him admit that he still loved you, that you weren't stupid for still loving the man who broke your heart, was both relieving and hurtful.

“You hurt me, Daryl,” you whispered, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I get that Merle was your brother, but you should've never let him influence you like that. I had to go through everything alone. Do you know how hard it was being pregnant and fighting for my life against the dead out there? Do you know how terrified I was? I was lucky enough to find Alexandria a couple of days before I gave birth. If I didn't, I would've given birth out there with the walkers. I probably would've died. Camilla and Luka too.”

Daryl felt the guilt gnawing at his insides. He really hated himself at that moment. “M'sorry, sweetheart. I really fuckin' am. I promise I won't leave again. I dun' expect you to give me a second chance. God knows I dun' deserve it, but I promise I'll be here fer ya and the lil ones. I ain't ever gon' let ya down again, I promise.”

You gave him a small smile, reaching over to take his hand in yours. You rubbed your thumb over his knuckles, something you always did whenever the two of you had a serious talk. “Give me some time, Daryl. I still love you, but I need some time to adjust to the idea of 'us' again. It's been just me and the twins for two years. As far as I knew before today, I thought I wouldn't see you ever again. Just focus on the kids for now, okay? They deserve to know their daddy.”

Daryl's lips twitched up into a smile, and he nodded. “I'll wait as long as ya need me to. I ain't ever gon' let anyone influence us ever again, I can assure ya of tha'. And I ain't ever gon' leave ya to raise 'em alone, never.”

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

¡No me toques!: Don't touch me!

Translations (May be incorrect! Please feel free to correct me if they are!):

maldito idiota!: fucking idiot!

amores: loves.

dormilones: sleepyheads.

[snapscube]

Do you have any Hot Takes about my little pony?

So far, I don't think so actually haha? A lot of my opinions seem generally in line with average Modern Pony Fan Consensus. Unless you count "Season 5 is actually almost as good as Seasons 1 and 2 and is notably better than Seasons 3 and especially 4 (based only on the less than half of it I've seen)"

But here are a couple other stray thoughts I have that might hit the mark, although again I don't actually know how hot or controversial these are so no promises:

Spike is incapable of carrying a whole episode past the point of being okay at best, especially past Season 2. No more Spike episodes please.

I get that the whole point of the Cutie Mark Crusaders is that their episodes revolve around self-actualizing and learning to be kind and patient with yourself in regards to your coming of age and how it may feel like you lag behind in understanding what your purpose is. However, 5 seasons in it's starting to really feel like there is not much more this particular show can say about that idea, and I'd appreciate if it didn't feel like their characters hit a reset button every time a CMC episode starts, as well-meaning as it may be.

When I was a teenager I really liked how the show started to feature more action scenes and Unicorn Laser Beams the longer it went and how sometimes the bad guys were just blasted away and that was that, but now as an adult I actually like it a lot more when the villains are redeemed with idealistic love and kindness that they don't deserve in the slightest.

Except for Discord. He should have never, ever come back. Good Discord is one of the most uninteresting and aimless characters the show has to offer. Like why is he still here. I know why. But WHY.

There should have been more than one wide theatrical release film like the 2017 movie. No real reason why I think that except that I just really like that movie and I wanted another one.

Season 4 did everyone kinda dirty but especially Pinkie Pie, who feels like a fanfic rendition for like a majority of the season. It felt like for a while Pinkie Pie wasn't being written by people who really liked Pinkie Pie all that much or understood how best to user her until Rainbow Rocks onward (I have no citation for this idea, I'm sure the writing staff was not all too different between the two eras. But I know the vibes I felt as a Pinkie Pie Fan)

I don't feel like thinking of any more :)

[silverraes]

10 BL Characters I Would Hit With My Car

big thank you to @buddhamethods for starting this. I thought it sounded like a fun idea and just had to participate because I have Opinions™ :)

I am hitting some of these characters with only the best intentions and some of them out of pure spite

1) Shin (Bake Me Please)

if you've seen me post about this show or if you've seen it yourself, you know exactly why this guy is on here and also why he's the main reason why I just had to join in on this trend

square up, Shin, I'm hitting you with my car for all that bs and also to help with your character development a little <3

(I didn't find a fitting gif so have a pic as a great summary for why he's on here instead)

2) Way (Pit Babe)

listen I love him. after all if evil why pretty? but he's also a b*tch and he deserves to get hit by a car a little. as a treat. he's my pathetic little meow meow and I love to see him suffer (affectionate) <3

I'm also doing this as a public service so that Babe and Charlie can stay in their weird mama & papa boyfriends era without Way pulling his mind fuckery tricks on Babe

3) Kim (Kinnporsche)

hitting him with my car very lovingly simply bc he made Chay sad and we can't have that. maybe a little car accident can get him to actually admit that he's head over heels in love.

(and also because this man is way too pretty and I need to confirm that he's actually human)

4) Top (Only Friends)

listen. I believe that all of the Only Friends characters deserve to get hit by a car a little. all of them. but this man dared to say that he was serious and then went ahead and slept with someone else so. there's that.

5) Xue Yang (The Untamed/MDZS)

the most evil fucker for absolutely no reason. completely irredeemable. has the world's worst reason for being evil. I love him so much.

this guy is so fucked up that he managed to spend 3 years being all domestic with his nemesis only to realize that he actually developed feelings for him after he had already caused his death

there is absolutely no way to fix him but I'm still hitting him with my car for the amount of emotional damage he caused me with those god damn pieces of candy

6) Akk (The Eclipse)

I love him to bits and that is exactly why I'm knocking him tf out. very lovingly and rather softly but enough to give him some time off. because he deserves a break from all of the absolutely godawful authority figures in his life and what they're putting him through

7) August (Last Twilight)

this fucking b*tch.

I don't think I need to explain why I'm coming at him full speed. this is an act of public service, your honor, I'm doing nothing wrong.

8) Phee (Dead Friend Forever)

okay I know we've only had him for one single episode but this man is already stressing me out with the way he just threw away his cigarette bud in the middle of a god damn forest. sir what are you doing.

I'm only preserving the environment by hitting him with my car and getting him out of that forest, really

(also I can't pinpoint why but this guy is sus af and I don't trust him)

(the scene of crime, your honor)

9) Sprite & Zee's mom (Twins)

after @buddhamethods already took care of Zee (thank you for your service), I am volunteering to take out their mom. this woman needs the world's biggest wake-up call and since her own damn son ending up in a hospital didn't seem to do the trick, maybe herself ending up there will help

10) GramBlack double feature (Not Me)

the absolute audacity of these men to not be in love? after all of that?? I'm hitting them with my car because maybe ending up in hospital beds next to each other will finally get someone to admit that that G did not stand for Eugene what the actual fuck

(listen there are barely any scenes with actual Black and Gram together I'm working with the smallest of crumbs here bear with me)

tagging all of my moots. all of you. if you consider me your mutual, consider yourself tagged.

[intosnarkness]

I was raised in a very Christian household, used to get on this website for teenagers and young people to mingle among other people in the faith and I had a friend who was what she called a Messianic Jew. From memory I can’t really remember the differences, I’m strictly just curious. It always fascinates me how different being raised in Jewish household can be compared to Christianity, a lot of similarities but a lottttt more big differences.

I'm not sure what your exact question is here, but I'm going to answer "what is a messianic jew?". If that's not what you meant, please let me know.

Messianic Jews are people who call themselves Jewish while believing that Christ is the Messiah.

And here's why I have a problem with that:

The first thing we have to do is define "jew", which is a lot harder than you think. Jews are an ethnoreligious group. Very simply, that means that to be "Jewish" is both an ethnicity and a religion.

My family is ethnically Ashkenazi Jewish; when we entered the diaspora we went to the Holy Roman Empire, then Germany, and finally settled in Eastern Europe. When my mom did a DNA test, she got "96% Ashkenazi Jewish" on her results. It is a group that can be traced through DNA as well as culture and location. (More about Jewish Ethnic divisions.) You cannot become an Ashkenazi Jew unless you are born as one, just like you cannot become Hispanic or Latino unless you are born as one.

Now, my family is also religiously Jewish, meaning I grew up in Jewish traditions. I went to Hebrew school, I became Bat Mitzvah when I was 13, and I hold Jewish values and a Jewish outlook. Anyone can become a religious Jew through conversion. It's not easy, but it can be done and is done all the time. Once you convert, you are considered no different from people who grew up in the faith, and I was raised that it is forbidden to ever ask if a person is a convert.

So, a religiously Jewish person can be of any ethnicity and an ethnically Jewish person can be any religion. Therefore, it is possible to have a Christian Jew- that is, an ethnically Jewish person who has converted to Christianity. There are actually a lot of these, in no small part due to things like the Spanish Inquisition, which allowed conversion as an alternative to death or exile. It's why people like Madeline Albright are possible; she was raised Roman Catholic and didn't know she was ethnically Jewish until she read about it in the Washington Post.

Okay, so that's our definition of terms. A Jew is someone of the Jewish ethnic group, a person who practices Judaism, or someone who is both.

Now, we have to ask ourselves, what is a Messiah? Messiah, or Moshiach, is a Hebrew word for King. And depending on what kind of Jew you ask, he may or may not be coming. Remember, if you have 5 Jews, you have 6 opinions. We don't agree on much. And for the record, I was taught that it is every Jew's job to make the world as good as possible and get us as close as possible to the Messianic age, because Moshiach will only come when he is no longer needed. This is part of what Tikkun Olam is, literally "repairing the world". But the general thrust is that, if he is coming, Moshiach will rebuild the temple in Jerusalem and usher in an era of peace and prosperity for Jews.

Because Jesus did neither of those things, he does not fit the Jewish requirement to be Moshiach. So Judaism believes that Jesus was a false messiah. He said some good shit, but he wasn't The Guy.

So, a person who believes that Jesus is Moshiach cannot be religiously Jewish. It just doesn't jibe with the rest of it. They can be ethnically Jewish, but that's not in general what Messianic Jews mean.

Now, I also have a knee-jerk "oh fuck that" reaction to messianic Judaism, specifically Jews for Jesus, because they have run themselves for years as a covert conversion front. Cause Jesus is only going to come back when the Jews are all either in Israel, dead, or Christians. So convert 'em. It's deeply unsettling to me. I don't want to call it genocidal, but it does seem to hinge on the destruction of groups of people, so.

IDK if that answers your question, but that's what I've got for now.

[theseasasleep]

Story of Kunning Palace E03 (semi-live reaction)

So, it's our heroine's fate to always be crushed on by the spoiled Princess? LOL

There's no way a young woman who climbed all the way to Empress can avoid most of the path to that fate. In most of the webnovels of this type I've read, reaching that type of pinnacle means you have a fate with it, regardless of the ultimate outcome. The best Xue Ning can do is flip the script on circumstances while doing her best to skirt around the thornier aspects of future events.

1st Life: the Princess thinks back to her first encounter with Xue Ning with humiliation, embarrassment and rage

2nd Life: the Princess will think back on their first encounter with pride, happiness and warmth

So far so good. Although I totally get why she'd want to avoid tangling with a temperamental royal who she had a terrible experience with.

...

I really like how this show is shot. Sometimes you never know with cdramas if you'll get a cheap or pedestrian directing style or a dramatic and/or compelling one.

...

The show is still building its foundations and I'm just so eager to jump into the action!

*fight sequence starts 1 minute later* AND HERE WE GO!

Dude is more pissed off by the damaged qin strings than the assassination attempt! HA!

Xue Ning, as hostage: *minimize connections to minimize involvement* Mr. Hostage-taker, sir, I know Xie Wei only through the grapevine...

Xie Wei: MISS XUE NING, PLEASE DON'T SELL OUR CONNECTION SO SHORT! YOUR FATHER AND I ARE GREAT FRIENDS! IN FACT, YOU ARE MY LIFE SAVIOR!

Xue Ning:

...

Take me instead.

Mmm. Something about the silky oomph with which he said that line combined with his expression... Okay, okay, Zhang Ling He. It took three episodes but you got me: the character of Xie Wei is now officially attractive to me. All he had to do was low key deliver a line that just vibrates with high key threat.

Man, what era are my hormones in? Between finding my mojo over one ML threatening to tear an offensive man's tongue out and fixing my posture when this one is nothing but velvet menace, I need a name for it. I need to know. Should I be worried? Scared? Aroused?

oh. oh. he's so sexy... okay, now you're just showing off; put the murderous sexiness away

Not this man calling her out, leaving her neither a fissure to hide in or a crumb for modesty!

I... I can't wait until he's incandescently in love with her because I just know, I just know it will be so magnificent I won't know what to do with myself.

Girl, while you are absolutely right to defend your current relationship with Yan Lin and right to say it is a flirtation that is undeserving of such rude scrutiny... you (and us) know that man speaks no lies. You are trifling with Yan Lin and you would have done him plenty of harm without the benefit of literal 20/20 hindsight.

That being said, I see @dangermousie point: kicking off a relationship trying to gin up, stoke and maintain fear in the other party is an excellent way to receive future comeuppance in the form of watching the woman you desperately love side-eye you as she lavishes protection and support on her other suitors.

...

I like Yan Lin. Not too sorry to say that. Hopefully Life No. 2 keeps him off the rapist track.

It's nice seeing Xue Ning enjoying festivities. The impression I have of her first life self is that while she reveled in being "wild", she likely didn't really allow herself to enjoy being young and with friends, too busy being hungry.

Dear. God. That seamless transition from earnest Yan Lin in Life No. 2 waxing poetic about his first impressions of Xue Ning to embittered Yan Lin in Life No. 1 waxing poetic about his first impressions of Xue Ning with the exact. same. words. Add to it the implied threat of sexual violence in LIfe No. 1!!!

Chills.

*gagging* Did I say I like Yan Lin? Show, it's going to be hard for me to keep that opinion if you keep flashing back to that.

Me during the Life No. 2 Ning x Yan kiss scene:

I want no part of it.

All right, dude, are you telling me you raped her because she plain text told you she planned to marry someone who could help her achieve her goals?! She didn't sell you out to the devil... Or refuse to shelter either you or wounded family members... but because when you were at your lowest, like the bitch she admittedly is... was..., she told you the truth and cut ties? I mean, that's reason enough not to warn her a coup is coming for her ass in Life No. 1. There's no reason for rape, ever; even if she lit your dog on fire, you can't rape her. Just WTF, guy?!

...

Not that it excuses any of her horrid behavior but I can see how lonely Xue Ning is in what should be her familial home. That cozy scene between her parents and half-sister where in her absence there is only affection and warmth and in her presence, only awkwardness and discomfort.

She lived a childhood in poverty and exile being spoken and looked down upon; returned to her parents' home to find herself being shunted as second-born (in an era where hierarchy matters) and defective instead of receiving proper homecoming. I can see why the attraction of her sole dream, her ultimate goal - becoming Empress - would become all-consuming, especially if such a dream sustained her in exile and fueled her defiance at home.

...

Oh, jesus christ, Yan Lin, don't be an idiot! Don't believe in an enemy soldier during wartime, like...?!

...

So Xue Ning might have accidentally sold Yan Lin out to the devil.

But in her defense, that wasn't her intention. Just to watch him. Like a politics-minded creeper.

Me to Ning as she reads her former coachman cum spy to filth: GET HIM.

[nctyena]

Sleepover

Time: After NCT 2018 Emphaty Era (before We Go Up)

Warnings// Mentioning of usage of alcohol uunderage, not proofread, lmk if there are more

"Where is she?"

"I don't know. She texted me a few minutes ago. I guess her manager got suspicious."

"God. I knew we couldn't make it."

The two boys' conversation was cut with the door sound.

"Yena!"

Hearing the girl's name they made their way to the others.

"Where have you been?"

"I couldn't get rid of the unnie. She was about to call your manager."

While Yena was settling her stuff all the boys gathered in the living room.

After all the promotions and performances they couldn't spend time as they used to. Since Yena, Haechan and Mark weren't staying in the dorm with others it didn't help them either.

So Mark came up with an idea. Having a sleepover without managers sticking around or without the other members. Just the dreamies. It wasn't easy to convince their managers so they lied a bit.

"I'm glad you made it noona."

"Me too. It's gonna be our first sleepover right?"

"Yeah. At least the first time with eight of us only."

"Thanks to you Mark."

She blew a dramatic kiss. Mark faked a disgusted face.

Jaemin gasped and drove everyone's attention.

"Guys! We don't have an adult with us right now. You know what that means right?"

"Jaemin, I am the adult here."

"Mark hyung can you stop? What were you saying Jaemin?"

Mark pushed Haechan's shoulder.

"Anyways, I'm saying that we can do whatever we want."

Seeing the expression on his older member's face he kept talking faster.

"Hyung listen to me. You won't be with us like this God knows for how long. Please let us enjoy this night. Let's have a voting to decide. Please. Please."

"Oh my God! Okay okay."

"I'm glad that I'm on the same side with him. Jeez breath Jaemin."

Jeno nodded to show his agreement.

"Don't push the limit though, okay? What do you want to do?"

"Let all of us suggest one thing. Starting from the oldest."

"Hyung?"

"Okay, I want to watch a movie all together."

"Boring."

"Also I want to beat Yena."

"Hey! You just said not to cross the line. I'm your little sister."

"Anyway. Renjun your turn."

"Let's write a song together. We can even sing it. Mark hyung can help us."

"So you want us to cry. I like it."

"It's my turn."

"Go on Jeno."

"I want us to have a battle. It can be a wrestle game or dance battle."

"Yes let's wrestle. I've lived enough."

"Yena don't be dramatic."

"Yeah... I can beat some of you."

Before the arguments start Mark stopped them.

"Moving on! Yena what's your's?"

"I want to try alcohol."

"We don't have anything to drink."

"Mark is old enough to buy some."

They all turned to look at him. After some convincing and begging Mark accepted buying only one bottle of soju.

"It will be a light one. I can't deal with your drunk asses."

"After we drink, I want to play truth or dare."

"Are we really going to do that?"

"Yes Jeno, we are doing this."

"Jaemin?"

"I want to have a real sleepover. Let's sleep in the living room. All of us."

He looked at Yena as if asking for her opinion.

"It's fine for me. But I'm definitely sleeping next to Jisung."

"Jisung and me, you mean."

She shrugged. Mark shoke his head while smiling.

Chenle and Jisung said that they didn't have any ideas since they made a good list. They first had some food to eat. Eight young teens started their sleepover. That night was going to remain as a normal and simple one in their minds. Since they couldn't have those kind of laid back times often.

Around four a.m Jisung, Renjun and Yena were already asleep. Then they ended the night like they planned. Sleeping all together in the same room. It wasn't the most comfortable sleep they'd had but it was one of the most peaceful one for sure.

[spaceisnothome]

Far-Wend: i got my blog back! Far-Wend: so like i'm a pretty important political figure right Coin/Fortune: Oh, this conversation is starting out with so much promise. Coin/Fortune: Where will it go, I wonder? Lord Brilliant: You were in Plate-Armored-Scales' article "150 Most Powerful People (That You Didn't Know Yet)." Far-Wend: yeah awesome so like Far-Wend: i just got my blog back and i'm a big influential political figure now Far-Wend: now's the time Far-Wend: the time for me to come out with some kind of heinous horrible political opinion and start pushing it constantly Lord Brilliant: Please don't. Lord Brilliant: As your actual lawyer I advise against this. Coin/Fortune: Do it do it do it. Far-Wend: so many political figures are going paint-off open-mouthed insanity lately with bad opinions okay Far-Wend: i cannot be dustfanner Far-Wend: but what should I have clawslip opinions on Coin/Fortune: Salt landers, obviously. Far-Wend: obvious bait but i mean let's be fair i've grown a lot in the past what five years Coin/Fortune: You are still so short though... Far-Wend: I mean i MEAN Shout-Command and Cross-Check were ON the ship you saw how good I got along with him i'm FINE with salt landers now Far-Wend: like, mostly Far-Wend: like eighty percent Coin/Fortune: Far-Wend is no longer racist? The end of an era here, folks. Break out the candles, we hold vigil. Far-Wend: look i haven't been racist in a LONG TIME have you SEEN the work-place inclusion seminars i've run for the company Far-Wend: I mean literally have you not seen them they are really good and entertaining but also very informative and well researched. Far-Wend: And they're MANDATORY VIEWING Coin/Fortune have you not SEEN them Coin/Fortune: I get to watch you hop around in your battle armor and honk every day of my life, why would I need to see it on video too? Far-Wend: okay good news i'm coming down to your little gazebo and doing the ENTIRE THING live just for YOU Coin/Fortune: Can I play a part too? Far-Wend: what Coin/Fortune: If you're coming down here to put on a play, I'm religiously obligated to join in. My culture does not permit passive observation of plays. Far-Wend: dubious Coin/Fortune: Are you being non-inclusive of my culture, Handmaiden Her Living Blade Eternal The Forever Claw All-Kill? Far-Wend: fine we can like act out the scenes together or something Coin/Fortune: I'm sorry, I'm culturally obligated to play a specific role in every play because of my birth number. Far-Wend: DUBIOUS BUT GO ON Coin/Fortune: As the eighth child of a third child, the only role I can take in a play is that of the Crust-Throwing Fool. Far-Wend: oh my favorite of the ancient what the heck is thats Coin/Fortune: It's the role in the play who throws baked dishes into the other actors' faces if they flub a line. Coin/Fortune: I'm sorry, Forever Claw, it is my deep religious duty. Far-Wend: okay you think I can't get through this seminar without flubbing a line Far-Wend: you think I CANT DO IT Far-Wend: bloodbet clawprint this is ON

[shinydixon]

Hi, not sure how to identify myself so I’m just gonna say I’m the first angry anon you responded to about all this! Thank you for reading my message! Just wanted to say absolutely no disrespect, ill-intent or malice towards your country or the people of your country whatsoever ♥️. I don’t think you took it as such but just in case. I know this could, unfortunately, happen just about anywhere and I think it already has. Also I was unaware it was largely 14-15 year olds doing this. I’m sure there are adults that are just as complicit in this so I’ll just go ahead and say my message is largely for them even though, like you said, I don’t think it’s an excuse. I certainly would’ve never thought this was okay even as a child nor would I have ever used that as an excuse. But if any of those minors, by some odd chance, happen to read that message I really, really hope it sends the message that this behavior is incredibly shameful and disturbing. It’s absolutely no way to treat a person. I hope they learn that and I hope they learn it fast. And if they happen to find this one too please, please just think for one second thing outside of your own selfish existence and understand how this man must be feeling. He’s probably so, so incredibly petrified and exhausted and you’re actively taking part in that. Then bragging about it and acting as if it’s funny. How can you ever expect anyone to see you as even deserving of respect after that? Seriously. Please, I am actually begging, learn to have some empathy. That’s not how you treat a person. Not in the slightest. As for any adults complicit in this or taking part every bit of what I said before still stands. It makes you a fucking loser to treat someone this way, I hope you grow tf up real soon. As sad as it may sound, I hope with every ounce of my being Joseph finds a way to disappear after all this. As much as he can afford to at least. And I hope every single person that took part in any of this never has the chance to interact with him. I hope they never even see him again. He deserves privacy and at least some semblance of anonymity. Something we all as humans deserve. Anyway, sorry again for such a long message but thank you again for reading my message. Sending you all the peace and love in the world! ♥️♥️♥️

Hey! In case you'd like to be recognised without exposing yourself, you can sign your message with an emoji :)

Anyway I'm afraid none of them will learn, and I'm saying this based on their answers on the matter.

The girl who posted the video after saying Joe asked her to not take a picture, still say she did nothing wrong because, in her opinion, taking a video is different than taking a picture.

Then she posted a twit where she wrote "non abbiamo fatto le foto perché era col fratello che rompeva", i don't know how to translate the slang "che rompeva" but it's used when someone does something that annoys you, so she basically says that Joe's brother insisted on not taking pictures and this girl was annoyed by that...wtf

Joe was literally with his brother in a bar and you're annoyed because his brother and Joe kindly told you to not take a picture?

And this girl is 20+ years old, she should know better.

About the 14/15yo, those are the ones that stood outside his hotel forcing him to stay inside.

Some of them answered to people calling them out, with jokes, showing that they didn't care about what they were doing while others suggested to create a new gc because the old one was busted.

Honestly I don't have hope with people that behave like this.

Anyway don't worry, I took no offense about your message, I felt the urge to apologize because these are my fellow citizens, and since they won't ever apologize because they don't understand the gravity of the situation, I'll do that for them...kinda.

[bughead-in-the-comics]

Thank you so much for introducing us to Big Ethel Energy! My friends have been trying to get me on Webtoons for quite some time but it looks like I just needed the right story. Ethel is so underappreciated and the butt of many jokes so it's refreshing to see her in the spotlight! Happy holidays!

... unfortunately I'm not liking it as much as I thought I would. I was excited when the news about Big Ethel Energy came out because I was curious about how they're gonna tell the Riverdale gang story through Big Ethel's POV. It's nice that you're enjoying it, so please don't let my opinion affect yours. It's still too early to judge the entire series since they've only released 16 episodes so far (17 by the time this gets posted), so there's still a chance that I would change my mind. Maybe I'll like what happens in the end. I don't know.

My main problem with the webtoon is probably how the writer is trying so hard to paint Jughead as an "immature jerk" when he's just an introverted foodie who doesn't go out of his way in the name of conformity. The characters are all adults in the webtoon, so it's perfectly fine for Jughead to work on his vlog instead of choosing to hang out with the gang. Also, can we really blame him if he's not romantically interested in Big Ethel? Not reciprocating someone else's feelings - regardless of how genuine they are - is not a crime. It's not like he was purposely leading her on (like Archie does to Betty). And no, saying "hi" to her that one time in episode 5 doesn't mean he's trying to keep her hopes up. People should really stop confusing friendliness or politeness with romantic interest. But like I said, it's probably too early to judge the entire thing, so I'm hoping there's a plot twist somewhere that will sort of redeem Jughead in the eyes of those rabid commenters who bash him every chance they get.

Another problem I have with this webtoon is how they gave Betty's journalistic sensibilities to Big Ethel. The Blue and Gold staff in the comics has constantly changed over the years except for Betty. Though she sometimes share the editor-in-chief position with either Archie or Dilton, Betty has always been a reporter for the school paper. She even became an intern for a local station during the Betty and Me era. Writing is also one of her many talents. She's the go-to girl for any competition that involves journalism or creative writing. It's also not an exaggeration to say that Betty Cooper is also Miss Grundy (and probably every other Riverdale High teacher's) favorite student. While I appreciate the fact that they didn't make webtoon Ethel's interests revolve around Jughead's (like how she uses food and dogs to lure Jughead into giving her a bit of attention), I also don't think it's right to give her the qualities that were heavily associated with Betty in the comics. Big Ethel is a fine cook, a reliable babysitter, and a talented athlete. She also loves dogs. I do understand that the writer must come up with a way to rope Big Ethel back into whatever's going on in Riverdale, but I don't think forcing her to write a book about the town is the only way to make her come home.

The art is very pretty though. I'm still not used to the character design they chose for Big Ethel, but the illustrator is really talented. It seems like she's on a personal mission to make everyone in the webtoon look hot and that's okay, but it somehow makes it difficult for me, the reader, to accept that Big Ethel was such an "ugly duckling" in high school when the character design looked really pretty. I mean, it's still possible for someone as pretty as her to have insecurities (especially if Veronica Lodge exists to crush every bit of self-esteem she has left), but it's quite hard to buy Big Ethel's "glow up" from high school to adulthood when she basically looked the same.

Sorry for ranting. I didn't really mean to, but I guess I got carried away. Again, please don't let my opinion of the webtoon (so far) affect your enjoyment of it. I promised myself that I'm gonna read it until the end, so I really might still change my mind. Maybe I'll eventually like it? I mean, it did give us this cute Bughead interaction from episode 5, so I'm gonna cross my fingers and still hope for the best. Anyway, thank you for always supporting this blog. I really appreciate the likes, the retweets, and the little replies you sometimes leave in the posts. Thank you again! 😊 Happy holidays to you too! I hope you get to enjoy lots of yummy food like Jughead probably did hehehe. And please explore more webtoons. There are a lot of good stuff out there! ♥

[madampianoo]

Hey guys 💖 Here's Zlatans latest FULL interview with France Football. Hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did. This was such tasty appetiser before tomorrows main course meal match and start of his new season.

P.S. Please excuse english, it was google translated

Have you ever found your stolen Fido Dido ?

"Not. They stole it and I never saw it again. But maybe it was cosmic justice for all the bikes I stole. It's a pity, it was my favorite bike ... "

If you could find the one who stole it from you now, what would you do to it?

"I would buy him a new one and take mine back."

You devoted a lot of space to that story in your autobiography. Was it a turning point in your life to move from the role of victim to the other side?

"No. I was young and stupid. I did all sorts of things to survive. I needed a bike to ride here and there. When they stole my bike, I started stealing them from others. I did it solely for the reason that I could not afford to buy others. I know it's not a positive story ... But things like that are done to move forward in life, right? ”

What would you steal from football today if you could and give it to little Zlatan ?

"Nothing. I would just tell him to be more patient. And that his hard work will return one day. I worked hard, but I didn’t have the patience. I wanted everything now. "

How did you learn to be patient?

"It's very difficult when you're young. But when you have the experience I have now, learn what patience is. But when you are young and wild, full of various ideas and energy, when you want to discover the whole world and learn everything at once, then it is not easy to be patient. You need to be surrounded by people who have experience, who will calm you down and who will tell you the truth. "

What will be left behind Zlatan Ibrahimovic when he finishes his career?

"I do not know. Something will remain ... If something remains, it means I did a good job. Maybe some of my ideas and thoughts will remain from everything. That you should believe in yourself, that you should have your own personality and that you should not refrain from saying something you think. "

Did you make mistakes?

"I make mistakes every day. I am making a mistake now that I am talking about your newspaper. "

Maybe we're making a mistake talking to you too ...

"I'm kidding ... Mistakes are normal, we make them every day and they help us to be better people. "No one is perfect."

What are you most proud of?

"Everything I did. I come from a place where everyone condemned me and told me that something was impossible. I was constantly told that I was not good enough. And I'm still here. I stand still in my football boots. At 39 years old. And I'm proud of that. "

Could you have done more than this?

"It can always be more and better. It's a question of mentality. "

Even you?

"Every person can do better and more. In my head I always aim for the maximum and I am always convinced that I have given the maximum. Could I have done better, that can be discussed ... "    

Do you ever get tired of the attention of the public, journalists, fans, everyone's opinions?

"It's all part of my job. I didn't choose it that way. When you are as good as me, that is inevitable and must be accepted. "

How do you comment on the claims of some that you are a great player in small games?

"Everyone has the right to an opinion and to express it."

Did that bother you when you were younger?

"Not. I used it as a propellant to be as good as possible. I was motivated by such stories. I went forward and looked to never be satisfied. I received all these criticisms in such a way as to ignite the fire in my heart and to extract additional energy from them. "

What do you regret?

"It simply came to our notice then. Do you really think that I would be a better football player if I won all the trophies? "

Not. Even the Brazilian Ronaldo did not win everything ...

"Exactly. Of course, it would be wonderful if I won everything. But that doesn't make me a weaker or better footballer. I like guys who say to me: 'Zlatan, you didn't win the World Cup, you're not a good player'. Okay ... But it's easier to win the World Cup when you're French than when you're Swedish. Let's go back to the Champions League. The longer you wait for it, the sweeter it is. I still have a goal to win it. I won everything but her in club football. But I won't quack even if I don't win it because I've already done a lot more than most footballers. I'm a happy man. "

You didn't even win the Golden Ball. Does Zlatan miss the Golden Ball or does the Golden Ball miss Zlatan ?

"I think they miss me there on that list of conquerors."

You finished in fourth place in terms of the number of votes in 2013, and that is your best ranking. Is it weird that you didn't win it?

"You see, every player wants a trophy that tells him he is the best in the world. Deep down, I think I'm the best in the world. It would be prestigious if I won it, but it is the voters who decide. You journalists are voting and you know why I didn't win it! Ha-ha-ha ... ”

Well, it's not just us from France, there are also journalists from all over the world ...

"A-ha-ha!"

Messi and Ronaldo have won it several times. What do they have that you don't have?

"If you talk about essential qualities, I have nothing less than them. If you look at the trophies, I didn't win the Champions League like them ... But I really don't know how you measure and calculate that. Nor am I obsessed with it. You see, when you do good collective things, then individual rewards are a consequence of that. An individual cannot be good if the collective is weak. "

Where do you see yourself in the history of football? If there was a table, where would you put yourself?

"What do you want me to answer you?"

Who would be next to you on that table?

"It is not relevant to compare players from different eras. Everyone played in their generation, with different teammates. These are difficult things to compare. Everyone has their own story, and mine is full of problems. "

Does your personality set you apart in the world of football?

"I am just what I am. People try hard to be ideal to others. I always say ‘Be what you are and that is perfection’. I will not change because of success. For no reason will I change. Whatever happens, I will be what I am. I just want to play my game and have my team win. The rest will come of its own accord. I didn't choose to be famous. It's just a consequence of the work I do. "

We thought about jumping out of the pattern and what you're doing on the field.

"But it's all connected to the field. People talk a lot off the field today. But if you're not good on the field, and you talk a lot, then you're just a clown. "

Are there many clowns in the world of football?

"As much as you want ... A bunch!"

You consider yourself ideal in your head because you are what you are. How do you know this is right?

"I don't want to be perfect to someone else by force and talk about how I don't make mistakes. Maybe all this is a mistake. But I will remain what I am. I don't want you to send me questions before the interview, I don't want to know what you're going to ask me, I don't care. Readers will judge us whether the interview is good or not. "

When you left Paris Saint-Germain, you said, 'I came like a lion, I leave like a king . ' Do you really care so much about being remembered?

"I wrote my story in Paris and left my motto. Now let someone else write it and leave your motto. I don’t try to make people remember me by what I say. He will remember me on the field and what I did there. "

Are you arrogant or pretentious?

"I'm just a man full of confidence."

Does it matter to you that they recognize you as special?

"I am not special. I am a normal guy and a professional. I don’t want to share my whole life with the rest of the world. I'm not an instagram clown who wakes up in the morning and thinks what is the most beautiful photo for him to post. I share my professional challenges with the rest of the world. Privacy must exist. I don't want to share it either. But I want to share some parts of my professional life because it's part of my job. "

Do you deliberately block the fragility and insecurity from your childhood with your behavior, when the fierce guys in your Rosengard called you "lukewarm"?

"No. And I have a part of the personality that is fragile. I have emotions and weaknesses. There are things that hurt me. It's all natural. I'm not the Hulk, I'm not Superman, nor have I ever wanted to play them. I had difficult moments that hardened me, but I stepped forward. Today, I am no longer a guy of 20 or 25, but a family man with two children. I think differently, but my character has remained the same. "

Are you still a fierce guy at 40?

"People, is it possible that you still consider me a football gangster?" I know you had that title and some picture ... I'm no gangster. Of course I'm still a strong guy. I am almost two meters tall and I train hard and work on myself every day. I'm not someone who lies on the beach and shows muscles. I was born like this and I try to adapt the game to my constitution. I'm not as fast as I was at the age of 25, but now I have some other qualities. "

Does that mean you're a good guy?

"Yes I am. When you meet me, you will see how much heart I have. When they don't know me, people hate me. "

Do you want to be loved by everyone?

"No. I just want to be respected when I do something good. In fact, what is the love of all? There can be no love from someone I don't even know. Love is something reserved for those closest to you. Take Inter fans for example. When I was with them, they loved me. Now they hate me. This means that love has never been as real as with loved ones. Love cannot arise and disappear so quickly. I'm not one of those guys who will organize humanitarian actions just for someone to tell them: 'Wow, he's a good guy!'. It's a 'fake'. I'm going to do something because I want to do it. And not because someone would like me. I do it with my heart, some do it with my brain. If I send money to hospitals, it doesn't have to be known. I'm doing this because they really need that money with this damn crown. And I will not brag publicly. "

Is that one of the worst things in football today?

"It's simply part of football. People want to have perfect images. But in the end, they will meet reality. Everything will be known. Look at Tiger Woods. It seemed to be the most perfect character in the world ... People, just be what you are and don't try to be someone else. Don’t manipulate because it will all come back to you. No filters! ”

When you learned the Swedish national anthem, did you do it from the heart, not to be loved in your own country?

"When I was little, I didn't feel like a Swede. My parents are from Bosnia and Croatia. They influenced me to feel different, to look at me differently, to judge me differently and to treat me differently. That's why I didn't feel 100 percent Swedish. But today I am 100 percent Swedish. Even in France today, many talk about some old France and old times. The world today is full of various mixes and contrasts. And it doesn’t mean you’re not 100 percent Swedish or French if you accept that world. When you are young, you do not understand some things. It is mentally difficult when you are treated differently as a child. People think that it will pass quickly, and they do not know that the consequences remain for years. I was always in favor of getting the strongest blow at once because the pain lasts less than being constantly harassed with small and vile blows. Constant harassment leaves longer traumas. But those people who are harassing do not know that they are backward and live in the old world while we pass in front of them with the new world. It is a world of open minds in which I am Swedish and in which my children are Swedes. "

Do you still think differently from LeBron James, with whom you used to be friends?

"I do not want to enter politics because it divides people. Football unites people. I was lucky to meet people I would never have met without football. From all over the world. "Sport and politics are two different worlds and I am glad to be in the former."

But it happens that you express an attitude that has to do with politics.

"We athletes spread love and joy. I'm good at it and I know how to do it. You will not bring politics into my world. "

What are your fears and anxieties?

"With this corona situation, the world has changed completely. The situation is improving a bit, but ... The other day I went out to a restaurant with my family. It was weird. Then cam video audience in stadiums. And that was weird to me. I got used to it and I only wanted one thing: To go home ?! I'm used to the house, the masks ... It won't be easy to come back mentally. I hope that everything will be the same as before, but I am afraid that this will leave consequences on people. "

When you became a parent, did your children bring fears?

"There is no room for fear when we talk about children. We can talk about weaknesses. When you have children, they become your weakness. Then your life is no longer in your hands but in theirs. They become the most important ... Guys, we missed the interview date! I won't give you any more! I'm too expensive to tell you so much, ha-ha-ha ... "

How expensive are you?

"A lot ... Ask PSG!"

Can I have another five, ten minutes?

"Come on."

We would like to ask you about retirement. Are you afraid to stop playing football?

"A little bit. It is difficult for every football player when he has to retire. You have been programmed throughout your career. It is known when you get up, have breakfast, train, have lunch, rest, have dinner ... Someone else takes care of everything, it's just yours to press the 'repeat' button every day. The first day you wake up at the end of your playing career, you ask yourself, 'What the hell am I going to do today?' You are no longer programmed and you do not know what to do. That scares me a little. But what should I do? Luckily, I don’t think about it yet. I'm not for retirement. "

We in France call it the ‘little death’.

"That's it! Absolutely! After a lot depends on what kind of person you are. How will you cope and how will you fight. It's not easy".

But isn't that some kind of relief? You can eat and drink whatever you want

"After my playing career, I want to disappear. When you are in this world like me for so long and you know what you have been through physically and mentally, you just need to disappear and enjoy life

[syalmazhafira17]

Ever Since New York

A/N: Hello! This is my first HS fanfiction for the Playlist Fic Challenge hosted by @harrystylescherry. I didn’t specified any Harry era, you could imagine any Harry era you want to! I think this is also a reader insert fanfic, but well, hopefully it does. The pronoun I use here is she/her. I know this is not the real meaning of the song, but the actual meaning of the song triggered me myself, I didn't like to write about it, I'm sorry. If there’s any mistakes, please let me know because English wasn’t my first language. And if you’d like to give me reviews or talk to me, you could absolutely do it! Happy reading! XOXO, Syalma

Word Count: 5.1k

TW: car accident

“I’ve been praying ever since New York” – Ever Since New York

Things started in a place. And for Harry, it was New York.

New York City might not be the most romantic city in general public, but for the Harry Edward Styles, the city is a gift for him. The sweetest memory started here, in the city. When every now and then the city was always busy, but he found comfort in the middle of it. Something he previously never thought to find about in this city.

///

He was just shuffling through the crowd in Times Square. It was at night in the busy hour. He was wrapped in a thick jacket and sunglasses, and everything was so packed, even people, and anyone barely notices him. Which he was thankful about, because it was already a tiring day for him in the studio. It’s already late in his opinion and all he wants is jump on his bed right away. Or maybe a cuddle, even, only if he has someone to cuddle.

The thought stuck in his head, and that night, God given him what he wishes quietly. He bumped into a girl in the Metro. The girl turned around, rising her eyebrow in confusion. When she saw him, she started to freak out. Her head already in a negative view. She step aside a little, giving a space between him and her. He wanted to mumble an apology, before realizing the girl already stepping away from him.

She looks like she’s a college student, he thought. And before he knew it, she snapped her eyes at him alarmingly. He knew she can’t see his eyes staring at her like a lost puppy found its owner, but it surely already makes way to her instinct.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and turned away, locking his eyes at the ceiling of the Metro track.

He didn’t know, that ever since that day, she will be stuck in his daydreams, and out of the blue, making way to his songs and writings.

Ever since the metro, she’s all he thinks about.

///

Their faith tied together again. It’s lunch time and they both met again in the restaurant.

She was looking around the place to find one single unoccupied chair. Her eyes fell on two, one in front of a smoking men and one in front of the curly-headed men. She hates the smoke, and for the sake of it, she makes her way through the table.

“Hello, I’m so sorry to disturb your lunch, may I sit here by any chance?” she asked. The men turned around. He looks right back at her, with bright green eyes and hazelnut curls on top of his head. A moment of silence as Harry regains back his memory of the Metro girl he bumped into.

“I’m so sorry, if you didn’t want to. I’ll find another seat,” she brought her tray away, walking to the opposite direction from the table.

“Hey, um, I didn’t mean to. You can- you can seat here,” he nodded, chewing his lips. He has been thinking about her for some times, once he already got the girl, he messed it up by just looking at her.

“Oh— thank you so much!” she smiled brightly as she turns back to the table and set down her food tray.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, before he speaks up after a war with his gut.

But she did it first.

“I’m sorry, but you look familiar, have I met you before?” she asked.

His mind glued at her until he forget to answer it until she cleared her throat in a code to snap him back to reality.

“Eh, sorry, sorry. Yeah, we’ve met before. In the Metro, the men bumping at you at busy hour,” he scratches the back of his neck, like he always do when he was nervous.

“New York is really a city of possibility. Who knows I bumped into Harry Styles on a Metro?” she laughed. Harry’s smile makes its way back to his face. There’s something about this girl he was very fond of.

“You know…me?” he asked in disbelief.

“Of course I do. Like everyone else. I’ve been a fan,” she nodded.

“You didn’t, don’t get me wrong, look like one,” he stared at her. He wanted to hear her way of saying ‘I do’ in front of their families and kissed in front of everyone. With him.

“Well, I am. Not all fangirl looks like they are a fan, aren’t we? But yeah, I’m a fan. Dying to get a quick snap of you, but I figured you will quickly find my phone’s camera lens as soon as I snap it, considering your sixth sense of it and me sitting only separated by a table, so that might not be a good idea. And yeah, maybe I look calm outside, don’t be tricked by it. I freaked out inside,” she laughed. There’s something about the way she talks that makes him mesmerized by it. He gulped down.

“Do you want a snap?” he offers. Her eyes look back at him in shock. She slowly nodded. She offers her phone, but he already pulled out his.

He snap their picture quickly before he sends it.

“Do you have an Apple product phone? So, it will airdrop?” he asked.

“Eh, no, I have an Android, but I have my iPad with me. Give me a sec,” she pulled out a device from her backpack. She turned it on and Harry sends the picture to it. He glances at the name of her device. y/n’s iPad. y/n. A name he will remembers.

Looking at him glancing at the name of her iPad, she suddenly realized.

“Oh yeah, I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m y/n,” she offered her hand.

“Nice to meet you, y/n. I’m Harry,” he giggled.

“Hi Harry,” she said, in a soft tone, that makes him wanted to listen to it for the rest of his life. They both laughed and continued their food.

Ever since the restaurant, he wonders if their faith will collide once again.

///

“Hello, um, no, that’s…probably not a good tone, you have to use the perfect charming tone. Not too low, not too high, not too fast, not too slow. Hey. That’s too informal,” he chippers in front of his bathroom’s mirror.

He didn’t know how much luck he could get right now. He got her phone number, for some weird connection only God knows exist. She was one of his mates’ old friend. Her contact was buried beneath his’ phone for ages and he managed to pull that out of his contact and have the courage to save the number in his phone and gave the girl he met by coincidence a call in one fine Saturday night. And managed to croak out a question in the middle of his nervous state on that simple call.

And fast forward a week, here he is standing in front of the mirror, practicing his line over and over while his nervousness ripping him off little by little. He doesn’t know how he have this whole luck of her.

His phone suddenly rang, snapping him out of his thought and sprinting to his phone as quick as possible. He pulls up the green button after glancing at the caller’s ID.

“Hey, Harry,” she greeted. Her voice ran down his spine and gave him a comfort he never felt before with anyone else.

“Hello,” he said. A dead silence for a moment before she continued speaking.

“Um, I don’t know if I disturb you, I’m so sorry if I do, but I’ve been waiting for about 45 minutes, and I wonder if you will go on the date or cancel it? Because if you want to cancel it, then it’s okay. I’m just checking.”

Harry looking up at the clock on the wall. The clock showed him the time that felt like a slap at his face. And her soft voice asking him in concern make him regret his own feeling. He was supposed to be where she is now an hour ago, he planned on coming earlier than her to make a good impression, but now he’s late, like really late. There will be no way she’s going to forgive him nor agree to go on the second date with him.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, I– I just lost track of time, I’ll be there in a sec,” he stuttered. He push his phone to his pocket, ran to his keys, and flung himself to his Range Rover and hit the road as fast as the law allowed him to sped up.

He arrived in the span of 15 minutes from her phone call, panting and sweating, as well as nervous and panicking, scared to look at her face once she pulled up to the passenger’s side of his car. She raised an eyebrow before touching his bicep softly to distract him from his thoughts.

“Harry?” she asked. “Are you alright?”

“Uh- yeah, I’m okay,” he nodded quickly.

“You look pale and sweating,” she examined his face.

“I’m great, that’s just…my natural features,” he tumbled over his words. “Shall we go?”

“It’s okay if you’re not feeling good, I could just go home,” she looks at him with a concerned face.

There will be no way he will let her let out of his grasp. He was already in the edge of not getting her by forgetting the time, he won’t let her go home alone this time.

“I’m perfectly fine, we’ll go to one of my favorite restaurant,” he stated, the thought simply giving him a new pump of confidence.

“Oh, alright, we’ll go then,” she relaxed to the seat and buckled herself. He drives through the night glow of New York with Brooklyn Bridge and Miss. Liberty watching him. Watching quietly as Harry Styles trying his best to get the girl he dreamed of by picking up the rest of the pieces left about him in her that he already broke. And this city being the quiet paparazzi recording every step of him got the love of his life.

Ever since the date, he knew he will do anything to be with her.

///

He shifted in his sleep, making himself a little more comfortable, while scooting further to her arms. She wrapped her arms around his wide form graciously, mumbling something before inhaling his scent to soothe herself to go back to sleep.

They tangled together in her bed, sheets crumpling beneath their bodies. They didn’t need it anymore; each other’s warm presence was more than enough to keep them safe and sound in the summer night.

They have been official for a couple months now, 7 months to be precise, after him, being a nervous wreck having the courage to ask her to be his and his only. He was nervous, sweat covering his palm, and his voice trembling as he asks her. He doesn’t know how he did it, but he did end up driving home with her hand in his and a thin layer of her lipstick left on his lips. And when he got back to his own place, he screamed from the balcony to the busy road beneath, doesn’t even spare a glance at pedestrians looking up at him weirdly, or the fans started to clicking their cameras up secretly, or paparazzi recording him. In his mind, the world was just him and her.

His eyes flicker open, looking up to her, who sleeps peacefully. He stays there and just watching her breathing rhythm. He loves it when she got into peace like this, with no crease between her brows or an upset face painted on her beautiful face.

“Are you going to creepy stare at me forever or tell me what time it is?” she asked, her eyes still closed.

“Both, it’s around 1 in the morning darling,” he said sweetly, kissing her shoulder.

“Great! Now tell me everything you wanted to ramble on,” she said jokingly.

He knows she was joking, but he did anyways. He spoke up.

“I want babies, to cuddle! To squish their little chubby cheeks. How cute would that be? They will have green eyes and curly hair like I do, and they’ll have tiny smile that looks like yours! And we’ll squish their tiny faces and kiss them and we’ll spoil them with so much love and—and—and—Gucci!” he giggled after the word came out. Of course, Harry’s staple, Gucci, will be on the list of his babies.

“And we’ll put them in bear onesies I saw on Pinterest the other day! And we’ll paint the walls soft yellow, and we’ll get to cuddle them in our arms at night, and they will squirm in our arms, and when they wake up hungry in the middle of the night, I’ll come to them so you’ll sleep. And I can stop my work while they were little, could almost be packed in the suitcase I brought on tour! And when they got old enough, we’ll go around the world and they’ll meet a lot of people, will see the world in real life. And then…they’ll grow up,” he ended his ramble about babies in a sad face, realizing babies could grow up too, and they will not be so little anymore.

“And then, you’ll make more,” she ended the whole story for him.

“You? Why not— oh yeah, I’m sorry,” he looked down like a sad kitten. “We never talk about this before.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. We’ll be a little family, with babies like you want, yeah? Their little faces and cheeks, want to squish and kiss them already,” she fixed her words. He looked up at her again excitedly.

“And we’ll have kittens! Cute little fur balls in the couch!” he continued on.

He continues to talk about kittens. How cute they were, how many will they have, and how he will fed them.

“I love cats lots, but not as much as I love—” his eyes widen after he realized what he just said.

“I love…?” she didn’t have a single clue what he was about to say. And he was thankful for it. “Babies?” she guesses.

“No,” he shook his head.

“So…what?” she furrowed her eyebrows. “Working in the bakery?”

“You, I love you,” he finally decided to risk it all and said the three words that have been stuck in his mouth for the past months.

“I…Harry,” she said sternly.

“Yes?” he looked up at her like a scared kitten.

“Are you sure about those words?”

“With my whole heart, darling.”

“Like sure, sure?”

He nodded quietly.

“I love you, too,” she whispers right to his ears and kissed his pink lips.

His cheek and his nose flushed red. He couldn’t believe that he just did it.

Ever since that night, he knows he wants to spend evermore with her.

///

He was in LA again. Not staying in New York. It’s the fifth time he did it, with no preparation call, but just a quick text once he arrived. Leaving her confused for a moment before processing her boyfriend’s quick news. She was already living in his New York apartment he purchased for both of them, but he was barely there. At bright days, he spent it with his guitars, music, and studios, and at night he conquers the music industry concert. At weekends, he was busy to move around the world, too busy to text his girlfriend about his plan and whereabouts.

Today, she had enough of it. She stormed out of her class with angry fingers pressing the buttons of his number. Those all because he already sent the text ‘In LA babe, don’t wait x’. But who wants to wait for a week before he came back to NY, gave her a proper talk about his plan, and if he remembered about him having a girlfriend, plan on a date afterwards?

First call, doesn’t get answered. Second call, to voicemail after a few ringing. Third call, straight up to voicemail.

She grumbled beneath her breath, cursing, before trying again. On the last ring, he finally picks up.

“Hello, babe, have you gotten my text?” he asked.

“No, you come home tonight, or I’ll leave,” she said sternly. She doesn’t want to look scary by the people she met in the hallway, but her eyes says otherwise. But she didn’t care much. She cares about the fact that her lover just left her with a short text.

“Hey? What’s wrong with you?” his voice turned from bouncy and happy to a stern confused one.

“You’re the one that needed to be asked that way,” she scolded.

“Darling, I’m not going to be in the joke right now, I have some big stuff to do,” he frowned.

“OH, your girlfriend you just left in New York wasn’t a big stuff? Okay, don’t expect me to wait a week alone in that bloody apartment,” she huffed before hanging up as quick as possible, making sure she did it as he speak up explaining his problem.

He cursed underneath his breath when the call line got cut off. Jeff, reading his face, looked over.

“You okay, Harry?” he asked.

“Yeah, yeah, just…y/n acting up,” he mumbled.

Jeff didn’t answer, he just nodded before speaking to someone on the other end of his own phone call. While Harry tried his best to not thinking about his upset (and alone) lover back in New York, he just…failed miserably. At the time the clock strikes midnight, he gave up to his feelings and book a ticket back to New York.

He got into the plane at 3 AM, bouncy and a nervous wreck. He was scared of what might y/n does. Breaking up? Almost a bit dramatic, but doesn’t make it zero possibility. Mad at him? She does now. No need to wonder. Leave the house? She probably plan to right now. Driving at midnight and blasting sad songs in her car? Not Harry’s type, but hey, y/n is y/n. She could be doing that at this very moment. Getting drunk in a dive bar with her college friends? She was barely past drinking age, and she doesn’t like alcohol much, but everyone seeks comfort when they fight with their significant others right? Stress eating on McDonald’s drive thru or eating a tub of ice cream, crying over a random TV Show? It’s nothing bad compared to other possibilities, but he doesn’t want to know it was because of him. Because in each possibility, he imagined her crying and mad at the same time.

And when he dropped his bag at their apartment, the first view he saw wasn’t a crying y/n, an empty house, a drunk version of his girl, or a girl crying with an ice cream tub or McDonald’s packaging. Instead, she curled up into a ball in the sofa, must have been fallen asleep at some point at night, blanket messily covering her figures, and the TV playing a random bad TV Show. He went immediately soft by the sight in front of him, but he quickly remembered about his problem.

He didn’t want to wake her up and as bad as he wanted to curl up in the sofa and scooping her in his chest (because he know she won’t even think twice to push away whoever cuddle her without her knowing) so he went to the bathroom and cleaning up himself a little before moving to kitchen and made some coffee.

She woke up 30 minutes later, squinting at the light before fully aware of other people existence in the apartment. Her hazy mind translates it as a stranger, but once he dropped a pan and cursing, she knew it was Harry.

She pushed her feet against the carpet and walked towards the kitchen.

“Oh sorry, sweetheart, did I wake you?” he asked.

“Care to come home, Styles?” she didn’t even bother to say hi or answer his question.

“Love…I’m sorry,” he plead.

“No, no, that’s okay. I’m pretty fine alone here, with no company, and with my non-existence physically boyfriend,” she said sarcastically. “He was busy being a company to everyone until he forgot to be a company for his own girlfriend.”

“I wasn’t…I’m sorry, can’t you forgive me? I texted you, I let you know where I am,” he argued.

“That’s okay if you don’t,” she said before taking out her cup and filled it with water carelessly. “I’ve had enough of you anyway.”

It hits Harry harder than he thought it intended to be, so he grabbed her wrist and forced her to look at him, even with a disgusted expression.

And that night, they ended up cuddling on the couch and watching The Notebook with a huge tub of Haagen-Dazs in the middle of them. Half finished, with two scoops stuck out.

Ever since that day, he knew and promised he didn’t want to hurt her in anyway.

///

“Are you Mr. Harry…?” someone at the other end of his phone called.

“Who are you? What are you doing with her phone?” he asked aggressively. He felt sick since he woke up this morning, all he wanted was her to cuddle up against his chest.

“I’m Doctor Alex, and I’m from Brooklyn Hospital Center, are you Harry, sir?” he asked once more.

“What happened to her?” his heart sinks. He didn’t even confirm his name.

“I need you to calm down, sir,” the doctor finally gave up, assuming by himself who he was talking to was really the Harry in the girl’s emergency contact.

“What happened to my y/n?” he asked, rushing out of his bed, threw the comforter off his body.

“I’m sorry to inform you this, but you are the emergency contact in this phone. The girl, the owner of this phone, has been in an effective car crash. No relatives or friends with her during the accident,” the doctor explained briefly. “She’s in coma.”

Harry didn’t answer. His heart sinks, his soul felt like just left his body, his stomach dropped, he froze in place, he couldn’t believe the news, he didn’t want to. He wanted to wake up. Maybe this is just a bad dream, and when he woke up he still has her safely tucked in his arm, and smiling at him. And she will kiss his stubble as he stirs from sleeping, and they will stay like that for 15 minutes before the band called him and yelling from the other line about ‘discipline’ and ‘you lovebirds should’ve kept a clock to see the time’.

He hung up his phone as quick as he could and threw himself to his car.

He drove through New York City street in full speed. He doesn’t care about the laws he broke, how many tickets he will get once a police officer caught him. His mind got clouded by the doctor’s words. This time, Brooklyn Bridge and Lady Liberty watch him, not aiming for a girl’s love, but to aim a hope she will be his forever, not with a tie of marriage, but…he doesn’t even want to think about it anymore.

He parked his car messily and sprint to the front table.

“I’m Harry. Harry Styles. I’m…the girl in the car crash, I want to see her,” his mind can’t even form a perfect sentence.

“Sorry sir, who are you to her?” she asked.

“I’m her…her…boy-husband!” he almost yelled. The nurse knew he wasn’t even her fiancé, but from the panic in his voice, trembling frame, and a mess he is, she finally let him.

When he met her, she was inside a glass room, he wasn’t even get to be in the same room as her. He just watched her breathing heavily with an oxygen tank, the only thing that kept him believing she is alive is the beeping loud noise of machines stuck on her body. She looks miserable, bruises all over her body, casts on her arm, bandages, she looks so…fragile. He just wanted to scoop her up into a hug and kiss her, tell her she’s going to be okay, they’re going to have babies like they always dreamed of. They will have their first house, they will watch their babies grew up as much as he hated the fact that babies will get older one day, they will be old people in their 70s, but she will be the most beautiful girl he has ever seen in her 20s. But he can’t right now, and he felt helpless.

It has been almost 7 hours since he arrived and he doesn’t even spend a second take his eyes off of his girl. Nothing progresses much, but he knew she has to survive. So they could pursue their dreams together, just like they always talk about. At this point, all he wanted was for her to flicker her eyes open and look at him. And he will do the rest, he will pick her up whenever she wanted, he will kiss her, he will give her all the affection he has, he will give her all the love he has even until his heart bleed, he will hold her so tight so she will be always safe no matter the circumstances. He will do anything for her to just open her pretty eyes and look at him.

“If you aren’t going to eat something, you won’t be able to take care of her, um, later,” one of the nurses tap his shoulder. The crack of her end of sentence made Harry gulp down a lump in his throat. She knew her condition better than him. And he knew it, the crack on her word of ‘later’ doesn’t got missed by him. He nodded, the nurse’s words are true, she needed him to be okay.

So he took his time to go to the bathroom and wash his face, looking at the tiredness in his eyes, and he took some time to grab something from the cafeteria, a weird looking bread, looks like have been behind the glass display for ages, but he couldn’t care less. He shoves the bread to his mouth while running to get to her place.

“Sir, are you Harry?” a doctor rushing to his side. Suddenly he felt so empty. The panic in the doctor’s voice, his pale face, Harry doesn’t want to imagine what had happened to his girl.

“You might want to talk to her, she is going to be rolled to the operation room,” the doctor said.

Suddenly Harry felt weak in his knees. The bread feels like its going to threw itself out. He took masks and some weird gown the nurse handed him, and he rushed to her side. The beeping noises louder now he’s inside the room, but the only sound he could hear right now is her troubled heavy small breathing.

“Hi, darling,” he walked towards her with shaky limbs. “They- they said I could talk to you right now, I have weird feelings about it, but you are going to be fine. I- I will propose and we’ll have cute babies like we always talk about. I won’t leave your side again. We- we’ll have our happy ending.”

He kissed her cold fingers. It’s like the world were just the two of them again. No one around her. No weird beeping noise from the computer. No Harry Styles the popstar or y/n y/l/n the college girl. Suddenly they are just Harry and y/n again. Just both of them. In the room. y/n fighting for her life, and Harry, as helpless as he look like, helping her subconsciously.

“y/n, sweetheart, I don’t know if you could hear it, but I’ll be with you. I’ll be here, I’ll be by your side, you don’t have to be afraid, because your Harry will be here, honey. No matter how deep you fall, how hard the challenges, how hurt I will got, I’ll always be there for you. Your Harry will protect you, if it’s cold or hot, if it’s dark or bright, I’ll be by your side, kiss every single tears and cuts it will cause, and you don’t have to be afraid nor alone anymore. Because your Harry will be there for you. Always.”

And then he rolled out of the room. Out of Harry’s grasp, no matter how hard he tried to keep her close. She had gone to the room where her life will be on the thin border.

And Harry, with tired eyes and shaky breath, ran to the empty room outside the glass room and cried. Cried like he never did before. Cried until his tears dried. He dropped to his trembling knees.

“God, I-I know I barely talk to You. But this time…I beg You, please don’t let her taken away from me. I know she will be in no more pain, but I’m too selfish for it, I can’t live without her. I can’t function properly without her. I know I didn’t treat her the best before, but give me a second chance to take care of her. To smell her scent again, to kiss her hairline, brush her hair, give her all I could give, give her all the comfort she needed, give her all my love until my heart bleed. Just…give me one more chance, and I will treat her better,” his shaky voice somehow formed a proper sentence. His cheek wet with stained tears. His breath hitched. His chest felt heavy. He doesn’t even know who he is, when his girl still in the room. “Let me take one more chance to call her mine,” he let out a hitched scream.

After a long waiting and more tears spilled, when the clock told him it was 9 PM, she rolled out of the operating room. He jolted up. Indistinct chatter makes his head felt dizzy. But his main focus was her on the bed.

“Is she okay? What happened?” he could hear his voice yelling those to the medical workers, but he doesn’t even remember saying that.

“Sir, you need to calm down,” a voice called.

“No, no, I don’t need to calm down. I need to know if she’s okay!” he screamed.

“Sir, you have to,” the voice called again.

“Tell me what happened to her, tell me if she’s okay!” he yelled once more.

“Sir, take a deep breath and you’ll get to meet her,” the sentence made him stopped and slowly turned around. His eyes begging for explanation.

“Tell me how she is,” he whispered brokenly.

“She’s…you might want to see her, she might want you to talk to her,” the lady doesn’t even told him how she’s doing. And he knew it. He has only a few percent chance to have her wrapped back in his arms. And only God will gave him it.

The lady (soon he realized she is a nurse), lead him into a room. Not a glass room like she used to be placed, but a more private room, but it doesn’t make him feel any better because she was limp on the bed.

He walked in with shaking legs. The door closed behind him, and his knees gave up. He dropped to the cold floor of the hospital and cried for God knows how many times he had cried. His voice cracked. “Give me one more chance to love her again.”

[tsukidrama]

Thank you so much for waiting this long. I had a lot of schoolwork and tests I had to get through, so now that that whole ordeal is over I can finally respond! I didn't want to half-ass writing back to you, so I figured I'd wait until I well and truly had the time.

I heard you're updating TRNT tomorrow! I'm super excited to read that, especially considering we're getting a some redemption for Mr. Leonhardt. I've always considered him a very interesting character, though before reading your fic, I didn't particularly like him. I don't really have any guesses or predictions of sorts for whats going to happen, but you did say prepare for angst and awkwardness so that is what I'll do!

of course! i always understand when it comes to school. i hope that you were able to get through everything without stressing out too badly. i hope you get spring break soon at least. you've got this!

but also, same... sorry it took me so long to reply to this message, i'm struggling. i'll be okay. i hope you enjoyed the most recent chapter! i worry that it went over some peoples' heads though, or maybe i stunned my readers too much to speak lol

can he ever be redeemed? in my opinion he's always going to be kind of a dick of an old man lol but i think i can fix him. enough to make him a good father to Annie the second time around, at least. it's complicated as hell and hard to describe without reading the entire 17k word chapter

> What you said about fics regarding Annie not telling the reader about her 'secret identity', I completely agree. I always find reading them is gut-wrenching, but it's also a guilty pleasure of mine? I really like the dynamic and the questioning and the "will they won't they" element it adds, that is to say "will they work through this and flourish." <

> The shift at the beginning of the Trost Arc from hopeful to just filled with mind numbing fear... it fucked me up when I first watched it. They really were all just naive kids, especially the warriors, they had no idea what they were getting into or how bad their situation was getting. I can't even think about how destroyed, mentally and emotionally, Annie was after that. To have Marco plead with her and beg for his life, thinking she couldn't do anything, it must've been terrible for her psyche. Annie is an extremely complex and deep character, and I feel like with TRNT and Please Be, I'm learning more about her and her emotions. Sure, it isn't technically "canon" but I accept your writing as law when it comes to AOT. Annie returned to her girlfriend, built a farmhouse, and settled down, I think that's what she deserves. <

oh absolutely... that dynamic is what drew me to her in the first place. it genuinely just made me sad to think about her future while she was in the crystal, because it seemed so bleak. that's why i never wrote fanfic for her when i was younger. she's in so much pain and doesn't know how to deal with it. and i don't think she had time to truly process the reality of what she did or went through until the crystal, which is it's own punishment. but now that i know it'll be okay in the end for her and that she ends up happy in the cottage, i can bear to put myself through the angst of writing about canon-era Annie 😭

EEEE HEEH ASLVHBLJDS THANK YOU!! oh mygod this makes me really happy to hear, that your understanding is made better with my writing. obviously i'm biased but.. lol i also take my writing as law. i've said before that if you want something to be done right then you gotta do it yourself AND I HAVE. i might be a bit kooky but i swear to god i know what i'm talking about when it comes to complex emotions and character motivation. those who i love, i know inside and out. it gives me very specific type of imposter syndrome though because i feel like i can understand other people's emotions more than my own? does that even make sense?

> I think I'm more at peace with the fact that I won't be able to write all day, every day, and your words really helped with that. Thanks again, and I'm really glad you liked my fic! The long comment you left really warmed my heart, so much that I'm actually trying to write a part 2! Honestly, the first one was a bit rushed and I wasn't really happy with it. I feel like if I work on the second one a lot and I take my time with it, then I'll really enjoy the final result. As for the plot, I'm thinking it's gonna feature a few different moments when their love for each other is tested, but ultimately pulls through, giving them Annie the happy ending she deserves. I'm actually really surprised and delighted that you said we had many of the same ideas! We both love Annie an unreasonably high amount, I think. Though yours will be angstier, I am extremely excited to read it. Once again, thank you so much and I'm really glad you liked it! <

i really did like that fic! [linking it here] and now i'm excited you want to write a sequel! i support you in taking your time to write the story and vibe you want the for the fic. you're not on a timeline and i agree that you'll be happier with how it turns out in the end 💖 i'm glad i could help you in any way, it was my pleasure! it really is in line with some of the ideas i have for please be, you'll see. why surprised? you're a damn good writer, don't sell yourself short.

even right now while i'm not going into work and spending most of my time at home (to be fair i'm not sitting around doing nothing but still) i'm still not writing all day every day. creativity is a muscle just like anything else, you know? sometimes it needs to rest or you need to find inspiration somewhere different. i'm glad that you seem to be less stressed out about writing. it should be something that you enjoy and not a source of anxiety!

and i wish you the same! i hope to hear from you again soon and again i'm sorry for how long it took for me to respond. much love to you 💕

> I wish you wellness, <

> Pink Anon <

> (P.S. Tell Mars I'm really looking forward to the finale of The Infected! I'm itching to find out how it ends, and I really liked the last chapter!) <

check the comments for a response from mars herself but from me, hope you enjoy the ending! it's been a wild ride but i'm quite proud of her for finishing a big series like that. me and TRNT could never lololol

[literary-spirit]

Bonnie Bennett believed she'd finally discovered her good enough ending. Yet, like most things in her life good enough goes left and leaves her with another ending. Or, perhaps a fire beginning...Journey with everyone's favorite Bennett Witch to the Viking Era for much needed lessons in devotion, courtesy the Lothbrok brothers.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters belong to me. And to add unfairness to poetic injustice, neither does the shows or the books. However, I still intend to pull the characters' strings and make them dance, all while having a ball upsetting canon plot lines!

AN: Alright Bennett Fandom this one here is a bit different from what you're used to. Okay this one here is a bit different than I'm used to. Francesca has recently rediscovered Vikings and with it the sons of Ragnar. And don't you know she wouldn't rest until she brought our favorite Bennett Witch into their mess! As if our girl didn't already have her own problems. SMFH! So thanks to my lovely muse, here we are with a whole lot of trifling savagery that I'm just not so sure about. But as always I'll let you be the judge if this WIP lives to see another update. Flame it or acclaim it in comments.

“You know as much as I’ve savored the joy of tormenting you over the years-,” Klaus began.

“No,” Bonnie shook her head. She’d tried to go along with his final request. Really she did, but how could she? When in the end all he’d be was gone. “I’m sorry, bae. We’re not doing this.”

Rebekah’s eyes rolled. She released a drawn out exhale that hadn’t been necessary for her since wood ash and pointed stick tattoos were a thing. “Bonnie, don’t ruin this for him! Permit him whatever comfort he demands. He shoulders a burden you’d never be able to fathom. Can you not allow him to experience but one moment of grace? A moment Hope will undoubtedly cling to after he’s gone.”

“No, Rebekah! I’m not about to listen as the man I love gives us all a corny goodbye and pretend to be okay with it. And why the hell should Hope have a moment to cling to when she could have her father?” She gave her head another firm shake. “No, this is not okay with me,” her voice rose as she drilled visual holes through each of them. Klaus tried to shut her down with an arm around the shoulders but she curved him with a shrug, all while committing ocular homicide on him in the process. “So why the hell is it okay with you, Hybrid?” Her scorn riddled gaze darted from him back to his so called family. “Or any of you?”

“You must’ve been down on Bourbon sipping on that Absinthe again if you believe any of this shit is okay with us,” Marcel waved her off barely sparing her a glance. “We all just know Klaus is gonna do whatever Klaus wants no matter how any of us feels about it. The most dangerous place you can be when his mind’s made up is in his way. So I suggest you step out of it.”

Her neck snapped back as if she’d taken a two piece to the chin. “You think I’m afraid of the big bad wolf? I wasn’t at seventeen and if I thought for a second it would save him, I’d put his ass back in the dirt again. I take care of my own, Marcel. No matter the dangers or consequences,” she jabbed a thumb at her hybrid, “And make no mistake, that Original pain in the ass over there is mine.”

“Cute.” Marcel laughed as he rubbed at the corners of his mouth. “Bonnie, we’re his family. Each of us have known, feared, hated, respected, and loved him long before even your parents’ parents became an idea. Hell, even after everything he’s dragged me through, there’s not a drop of blood I wouldn’t bleed for him.”

“Then stand behind those words and do something, Marcel,” she pleaded, because at this point she wasn’t above begging for the only bright spot remaining in the dim bleakness that had become her life seven years before.

“What would you have us do, Bonnie?” Elijah questioned in a barely engaged tone.

Bonnie turned to consider him. A perpetual moroseness now cloaked the one she’d once believed to be noble. His arrogance hadn’t been quite the same since the restoration of his memories. More and more he’d begun to remind her of Finn. She squared her shoulders and straightened her spine. Since discovering what Klaus planned to do, she’d toyed with an idea she’d vowed never to indulge. Yet, under the weight of impossible desperation such vows could not stand.

“The eternal witch spell should be evoked,” she said.

“By whom?” Kol questioned. His chocolate browns moved from Freya to Hope. When both appeared to know less than him his disbelieving gawk returned to her. “You?!” Laughter burst from his mouth. “Oh Darling, I’ve witnessed that spell make a supernatural mess of the most talented witches to ever recite a chant. There’s only one destined to master the eternal witch incantation and her sorcery is said to be unmatched.” His knowing gaze drifted to Hope, and then back to her. “There’s no way you’re powerful enough to undertake the task. You’re not even the strongest witch on this block.”

Bonnie flinched. Damn it, if Kol hadn’t DOA’ed her pride. When the hell did he jump on the Bennett hate train? To hear how far his opinion of her plummeted sort of burned.

She nodded. “Okay, if not me why not Davina. You tend to enjoy blowing her horn. If she’s all you claim her to be, get her here. I’ll happily bow down if her being greater than me will save him.” She jerked her head in Klaus’ direction.

“No!” Marcel barked.

“Leave my wife out of this.” Kol zipped across the distance separating them to tower over her. His original face no longer concealed by his human deception.

Klaus rocketed forward to place himself between she and Kol. “Step away from my fiancé, baby brother. For if you harm her then you’ll be joining me in the afterlife. To hell with your bloody dagger and box.”

Ignoring Kol’s and Klaus’ dagger and the box bit, her distressed stare collided with Freya’s. “What about you? Will you help me save your brother?”

“Bonnie, that spell is much too dangerous. Even for me.” The blondes eyes offered her a thousand apologies but not one solution. “I’m sorry, but I can’t risk it…not now.”

Her desperation bottomed out to despair as her gaze took a hail Mary launch to the supposedly most powerful witch in the room. “Hope?”

The room erupted. You’d think she’d offered the girl a crack pipe. When she was Hope’s age she was taking down well…her dad.

“Bonnie!” Elijah yelled.

“This is madness,” Rebekah growled, taking a step in their direction. “Nik tell her!”

“We’ve already talked about this, Bekah.” Marcel shook his head and tugged Rebekah back to his side. “That doesn’t concern us.” Bonnie heard Marcel mutter.

Klaus spun away from Kol to regard her. He grabbed her face and cradled her cheeks in his palms. “Everything’s going to be alright, Love.” He whispered, before brushing his lips against hers. Liquid pain disturbed the stillness of his crystal blue stare and contradicted the hell out of his reassurance.

“How?” She tugged herself free of his grasp. “How’s everything going to be alright? You’ll be dead and then what? Life goes on? Fuck that! I’m not about to stand here and mourn a defeat I haven’t loss yet!” She whirled away and marched from the gathering. Her decision made.

Once out of sight, she hurried towards their bedroom. Inside, she closed the door and locked it. The barrier wouldn’t hold her hybrid, but the fraction of time it would provide may be all she needed to complete the spell. She fell to her knees next to the mattress. Carefully, she tugged the blanket from underneath the bed. The already prepared altar and ingredients slid out. She stared down at the athamae and exhaled. Second thoughts plagued her mental, but she shook them away. She’d come this far already. The time to bitch up and forget about it had come and gone. Now was the time to do and die, literally.

She picked up the dagger and called forth every ounce of mystical energy which bled through her veins. A swell of Bennett sorcery overwhelmed the room. Pictures rattled on the walls. The balcony doors blew open and the glass shattered. Furniture not nailed down whipped about the room like she’d caught a ride in a tornado. Steeling her nerves, she continued. She called forth her psychic energy, her huntress energy. Any and everything supernatural about her she offered to the Goddess of all in exchange for an eternity of knowledge and the fated eternal mate destined to help her defeat the Hollow.

After relinquishing her all to the Creator she sliced open her palm. Blood gushed from the wound and saturated the ingredients. A searing light illuminated the room. The bargain was struck and accepted. Now the sacrifice. She swallowed and raised the blade. Aiming it at the center of her chest, she closed her eyes.

“Bonnie, no!” Klaus’ voice penetrated the white noise blaring throughout the room. “Love, don’t do this. You won’t survive.”

She opened her eyes. He stood just beyond the enchantment circle, attempting to force his way into the barrier. “Neither will you if I don’t. Besides, if it doesn’t work I’d rather be in the ground anyway than breathe without you, Klaus.”

“Bonnie, please,” he pled as he dropped to his knees. He slammed his fist against the barrier. “Please, don’t do this. We’ll find another way. You have my word, Love!”

A sad smile flirted with her lips. “You’re lying, Klaus. If there was another way then it would already be the plan.” She plunged the blade into the cradle of her breasts. A piercing burn penetrated her chest.

“No!” Klaus’ bellow seared layers from her punctured heart. The storm of mystical energy whipping about ceased.

Her knees buckled. Klaus caught her before the ground could and cuddled her close. She attempted to talk, but a wheeze whistled pass her lips instead.

“No, Love, don’t speak.” He bit into his wrist and placed the bleeding extremity to her mouth. His blood might as well had been battery acid because she’d bet dollars to air it burned the same. Hacking coughs damn near shook her frame apart by the joints. “Why the sodding hell isn’t this working?”

“I-It’s the s-spell,” she managed to utter. “M-my death is the p-price of a-admission.”

Tears trickled from his eyes onto her face. “Why did I have to go and love you, Little Witch?” He demanded, looking beyond confused.

“B-Because its what we b-both needed at the time and no m-matter how this turns out I’ll always be indebted to you for giving me a reason. L-Love you, Hybrid…always and f-forever.” His face faded until nothing but darkness surrounded her.

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters belong to me. And to add unfairness to poetic injustice, neither does the shows or the books. However, I still intend to pull the characters' strings and make them dance, all while having a ball upsetting canon plot lines!

The abyss gave way to blinding lights. Bonnie squeezed her eyes shut. A cacophony of sounds battered her auditory senses. The eardrum rupturing racket nearly distracted her from the violent rocking motion. A violent rocking motion which would no doubt wrought absolute fuckery on her cyclic vomiting syndrome. Right along with the tang of salt-water, unwashed bodies, and rotten fish. The potpourri of funk came close to singeing the lining of her nostrils.

A familiar acrid burn tickled the back of her throat. On cue her belly spun a series of gold medal winning somersaults. Oh this was going to happen. Her lack of sight heightened her senses and made her that much more sensitive to all the upchuck factors swirling about her. Unable to continue to live in the darkest part of her denial and remain vomit free, she opened her eyes. The brightest day she'd ever had to tolerate greeted her light discriminating gaze. She closed her eyes once more. What in the extreme fuck? Was this some kind of hell dimension? Is that why she was only a five minute drive away from the damn sun? Oh Goddess no!

"Cade?!" She growled.

The acrid burn that flirted with the back of her throat developed a sour chunky consistency. Once again she forced her eyes open...and blinked. She was on a vessel that appeared to have hailed straight out of Vikings. Damning the unnecessary brightness and her afterlife in general, she turned and tossed up the entire contents of her stomach over the boats edge. The seafood gumbo from Rousseau's she loved nearly as much as Klaus shot from her mouth and floated one way while the wind and Hades' cruiser sailed her in another.

As gravity took her down exhaustion fucked her over. She rested her cheek on the boat's wooden ledge. Drops of putrid salt water splashed her face. Yet, her fucks to give was at a negative zero low. Not only was she dead, but more than likely so was Klaus. She'd failed him...she'd failed them. Not even eternity would be long enough to make that shit okay.

Bonnie's vision blurred. Her chest throbbed. She clawed at the pounding ache between her breasts. Goddess, it's a wonder her chest didn't have a gaping hole in it after everything her heart had lost. Shaking her latest failure from her thoughts, she turned to slouch back to the boat's floor. She then lifted her gaze to assess her surroundings. Various shades of irises gawked back at her. She froze. Oh damn! Just her luck the water was sacred. She opened her mouth to offer an apology, but snapped it closed. Wait...why the hell did everyone look like extras from the Last Kingdom?

Slowly, her gaze dropped from the filthy hairy men towering over her to what she wore. The burlap sack dress she donned stopped her ever ticking clock. And based on the breeze cooling her cakes, her La Perla's had opted to skip the journey to the other side. Her back teeth clenched. In what kind of after life had she been dropped? Was this some kind of Viking hell? Had she somehow been granted eternity with Klaus in his hereafter?

The shifting of bodies snaked her attention from Kanye's spring wear to the now parting beefy men. A sight which had her questioning her sanity emerged. Bjorn Lothbrok or at any rate the actor who portrayed him in Vikings. Was he dead and stuck on the Otherside also? Wait, was Alexander Ludwig even supernatural?

"You're not one of the slaves who was captured during the raid. One of your hue, I would've remembered." The head Viking in charge edge that resonated in Bjorn's or Alexander's voice snatched her from her contemplations. "How've you come to be upon this ship?" When she opened her mouth to speak the cold sharpened point of a sword pierced the hollow of her throat. "Speak to me of canards or sagas and I shall open your gullet."

She hesitated for a moment. What could she say? The truth would definitely get her neck split wide. "I-I'm not sure. Before...when I closed my eyes, I was somewhere else and now that I've opened them, I'm..." she glanced from the horror frozen faces of the crewmen to the beyond frightened slaves. The poor shackled souls huddled away from her in the ship crevices and corners on either side of her. She swallowed and allowed her gaze to return to Bjorn. "I'm here."

"Oh my god," she heard one of the slaves mutter in a tone that, to her surprise, sounded annoyed?

His scoff sliced the disbelief inspired silence in half. He withdrew the biting tip of his sword from her throat and sheathed it in the scabbard at his side. "Bind her hands to her feet and toss her over."

The ship erupted in a flurry of movement. Two overfed red-haired and even redder faced Viking men moved to grab her. She nearly projectile vomited her heart from her mouth.

"I know what I'm saying sounds apeshit, but I swear on everything I love, Alexander," she said slowly uttering the name and searching his face for a flare of recognition. When nothing sparked in his expression she stammered on, "I-I'm telling the truth. Please, you have to believe me, Bjorn!" A flicker of curiosity narrowed his glare. Bingo! "You can't let them kill me! Please, I don't wanna die again!"

"Halt!" He bellowed, raising a hand to stop the men from advancing, "How've you come to know of my name?"

Shit! She pressed her lips together as her mind flipped through a too short list of plausible explanations that wouldn't get her burned at a stake for witchcraft. "I-I've dreamt of you a-and of this moment." There, that didn't sound too bad. One thing she'd learned from Klaus, watching Vikings, and Google, is ancient Northman actually revered oracles and seers.

"You've dreamt of me?" He knelt before her, arresting her stare with a penetratingly incandescent blue gaze. At a deliberate methodical pace, his eyes crept over her face. Her lungs threatened to collapse under the thorough scrutiny. "Of this moment?" Unable to look anywhere other than in the irises that burned brighter than the now blazing sun, her head bobbed. A smile enticed the corners of his mouth. "Then why fear what you know will follow? Have you not prepared well to meet your fate?"

"Not if my fate resides at the bottom of the ocean," she said with a firm shake of the head, "That's an introduction I'd like to cur—avoid indefinitely."

His head tilted just so as he continued to regard her. "Name yourself."

"Bonnie Bennett," she answered.

A golden brow lifted. "Bonnie Bennett of where?"

"New-M-Mystic Falls...Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls."

"I have never heard of a land with such a name," he huddled a bit closer to her, "in which direction does your homeland lie?"

Before she could answer, thick gun metal gray clouds rolled across the azure sky and swallowed the glaring sun. A sonic boom exploded somewhere in the distance, while blue streaks of lightening zigzagged its way through the stodgy swirls of gloom. And if the situation wasn't already atom splitting serious, fat drops of rain and hail the size of golf balls began to pelt them.

"This storm is unnatural!" A seaman yelled.

"What in the name of Odin will become of us? None of us shall discover the gates of Valhalla at the bottom of the sea!" A ruddy face old man with a scraggly beard roared at anyone who appeared to be listening.

Another much younger seaman, maybe a little older than herself, turned an anxious stare on Bjorn. "Do you believe the All Father has forsaken us, Ironside?"

Bjorn opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by a blonde slave girl who pointed a finger in her direction, "It's her! Her very presence displeases the gods. You should heave her over and pray the sacrifice appeases them."

"You sound dumb as hell! It's no wonder you're in chains," Bonnie snapped, regretting her words as soon as they left her lips. Stupidity had nothing to do with forced captivity. Yet, that bitch had some damn nerve.

"No one will be heaving anyone over," Bjorn said, while standing from his crouch, "Raise the sails and provide the slaves with pails so they may began dumping water from the ship's floor."

A surge of magic thickened the air. The foreign sorcery incited something within her. Something unfamiliar. A bucket was pushed in her face. She took the wooden pail without looking away from the sea. The very stench of alien witchery agitated her own strange mystical energy. The fiery heat of her somehow altered super charged power practically scorched the inner lining of her veins as it raced through her vessels. Who would dare interrupt the supernatural and natural balance on this scale without justification? It was like using a heat seeking missile to take out a mosquito. Un-fucking-called for!

Instead of allowing the now aggressive powers within her the retribution it sought, she settled just to keep the occupants on the ship safe. So, while she dumped water from the boat's floor, she chanted under her breath. Soon, a protective shield formed around them in an elusive form of the previous sunny day. The Vikings and slaves alike erupted in praises to Odin.

"Yep," Bonnie forced a smile. "Praise Odin!"

"Come, Mystical One," Bjorn stood over her, his shadow casting her much needed shade.

Distrust and her impromptu guest starring role on a show which highlighted the fact that Vikings had no problems raping captives, raised her guards. Though realms out of her element, she was far from ignorant.

Her gaze moved over him in an attempt to size him up. "Where?"

"To the prow," He gestured towards the front of the ship before snatching the pail from her hands, and then tossing it aside. "I wish to learn more about you and this numinous land named Mystic Falls." When she took too long to follow he locked his hands behind his back and considered her. "If I wanted to lie with you then all I need do is have you. Do you believe anyone here would be minded to protect you?"

She lifted her chin as she glanced about the ship to see not one person watching them for concern purposes. Every eye she caught on them looked to be pre-historic Shade Room and TMZ reporters. If they had tea kettles back then they'd no doubt be ready to spill the damn things. No, Bjorn spoke the truth. No one on that confoundingly long boat would lift a calloused palm to help her.

"Alright." Exhaling, she stood and leveled him with a glare even a PMS'ing demon would be incapable of exacting. "But fair warning, no one on this ship can protect me better than me. And make no mistake, I'm not above defending my own honor."

He reached out and took her hand in his. "That is a certainty about you of which I'll never be mistaken, Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls."

[devourer--of--books]

Some time ago (and by “some time” I mean a long ass time, oops) Kate (@pumpkinpaperweight) posted an analysis of gold rush by Taylor Swift tracing parallels to Agatha, which this post is clearly inspired by. 

(Go check that one out after you finish reading this post, it’s really good.)

Ever since, I’ve had an entire tagatha x taylor playlist/unfinished post that I don’t think will ever see the light because I’m too lazy to actually finish it. But now I have some spare time and I noticed that,,,, invisible string wasn’t on it.

And that's cause, well, despite the obvious gold fingerglow motif which is very tagatha … you already read the title of the post. It’s more like my own version of of what I would have had happen post-otk (will my epilogue version ever see the light, I wonder) than anything else, but this is my account, in which I am correct all the time and accept no criticism so,,,,

Green was the color of the grass where I used to read at Centennial Park

I used to think I would meet somebody there

Basically, these first two lines are about how Sophie’s egocentrism isolated her and kept her from making genuine connections with people from very early on, until she becomes friends with Agatha and even after that.

Okay, so have you guys ever seen those tiktoks that are like ‘13-year-old me, in black jeans and sneakers, at the beach, reading a book mYstERioUsLy so that when Harry Styles showed up he’d know I’m dIfFeRenT'?

This is the energy I get here. 

Like, Sophie in the start of book one doing all those ‘good deeds’ so set herself apart in the eyes of the school master hoping that he’d bring her to the school where she would meet *drumroll* The One. 

Most of us have, at some point (I hope, otherwise it was just me and that would be so embarassing), tried and failed to channel that main-character-energy to manifest ourselves into a story much more interesting than whatever is going on in your life at the moment. I feel like at the very core, that’s sort of what Sophie was trying to do? It’s a very juvenile feeling and shows just how little Sophie knew about love overall. Love as it is in fairytale books, as opposed to as it actually is.

She thought herself as above everyone else and thought she was entitled to true, unconditional love, which ended up holding her back and isolating her from everyone in the town, save for Agatha, give or take. 

This mindset is what really keeps her from seeing Tedros (and Agatha, and everyone else) as people, rather than characters in her story, and actually connecting with them on a non-superficial level. 

Teal was the color of your shirt when you were 16 at the yogurt shop

You used to work at to make a little money

I don’t think this part needs much explaining? 

On surface level, Nicola canonically started working at her father’s pub at a very young age to help with family expenses.

If you think about it a little more and contrast it with the previous line, though, it highlights the differences between Sophie and Nicola:

Nic works to help her family, learning responsibility and duty, while Sophie barely ever did anything for her father, both out of vanity (and a superiority complex) and out of spite (which is honestly undeserved all the way up to book 3, when Stefan let Callis die and fucking tried to blame Agatha for returning without Sophie and then guilt-tripped her into going to save her, after which he was dead to me lol). Sophie grew with a princess-like mindset, despite being just slightly better off than Nic, given all the villagers save from Callis and Agatha (due to them being outcasts) seem to have a similar income (with the exception of the beggar which I don’t understand and am probably overthinking about, but honestly, it’s a impossible to leave town and people die on the mill all the time, there's no college or whatever, did none of these assholes offer the beggar a job- I’m getting carried away), while Nicola has to shoulder most of the responsibilities due to her dad being sick.

Also, given the *misogyny* I’d be surprised if Nic didn’t have to do all the housework, as the only girl in her house.  

I doubt that the uniform of the pub was teal and given the book timeline she wouldn’t have been 16 in any instances in which Sophie and her met in Gavaldon, but I digress.

Time

Curious time

Gave me no compasses

Gave me no signs

Were there clues I didn't see?

Also kinda self-explanatory in a way?

On one interpretation, it takes Sophie an awful long time to mature and grow into an okay person. She lashed out after Tedros’ rejection because her desire was, when you get down to it, to be loved, even though she didn't understand what love was or how to go about it. She was already loved both by Agatha and by her father but she couldn't see it because the idea of love (romantic, loud, grand-gesture) was so embedded into her, but the clues to it were there all along.

On another, you could argue that Nicola also did not see this coming at all, specially if you consider canon!Nicola rather than fanon!Nicola (why would you, but okay, ignore my Hunter post, go on, stomp on my feelings). Nicola, whose purpose in TCY was to be the new hort-love-interest no one asked for, ending up with her *gag* love-rival? Unexpected, iconic, never done before (never actually done in canon), amazing, mind-blowin-

Bad was the blood of the song in the cab on your first trip to LA

You ate at my favorite spot for dinner

Bad Blood was a smash hit on Taylor’s career, playing on the radio  non-stop during the 1989 era, arguably her peak in terms of mainstream pop and radio plays.

The Tale of Sophie and Agatha was the equivalent in this context, as it was all the rage in Gavaldon after book 3; Sophie’s persona as the Dean Of Evil is solidified and everyone in The Woods knows who she is and read her tale, including Nicola (who already knew who she was, but now had a another version of her to compare to the version she already knew, which hm, did not favour Sophie either way).

I think it’s kind of fascinating how parasocial relationships work in the context of SGE because like, the storian is there as an omniscient narrator, but it doesn’t write everything. Like, does it just expose what the people in the tale feel and think only if it suits the plot or do the tales look just like the SGE books, in some sort of fourth wall break or is it like an actual children’s fairytale, where you just get told actions and have to sort of assume motivations? How does that affect public opinion? I don’t think most people would be too keen on stanning Sophie after reading The Tale Of Sophie and Agatha (cause damn, Sophie does a lot of questionable shit there) but canonically, they do, despite her being the villain, which is something I have opinions on (do I ever not have opinions on things?).

Like, sure there would be Nevers stanning her, but honestly, if they read the tale, wouldn't they be more likely to stan Hester or even Agatha? Cause Sophie almost got both Evers and Nevers killed, doomed everyone in The Woods for a guy, and was overall a horrible person with no regard for actual Good or Evil as balanced things? Isn’t this why The Coven sided with Agatha, like, I don’t get it- Is it stanning out of fear? Cause that’s the only sort of explanation I have, specially for people in Gavaldon, but that’s something I’ll go deeper into in another time.

Anyway, I wouldn’t be surprised if Nic’s first class at SGE was about The Tale Of Sophie and Agatha, given she was originally placed in Evil, due to Dovey and Sophie’s bet, and Evil’s school curriculum was under Sophie’s control, so if you think those classes were anything other than the Sophie-Show, you are wrong.

Now, on to headcanon territory, wouldn’t it be poetic if during her first lunch Nic sat at that tree in the middle of the clearing where Agatha and Sophie used to sit? Not only for ship reasons, but the tree is right in the center, which could relate to how Nic was supposed to be half/half?

Bold was the waitress on our three-year trip getting lunch down by the Lakes

She said I looked like an American singer

It’s a real shame that I don’t remember most of TCY. (But is it really?)

This is kinda of my own personal interpretation of what the OTK epilogue should have been like (and so, it's kind of a spoiler for my ever unfinished rewrite sksnsksn).

Imagine if, instead of that horrid school wedding (kill me now, please), they actually held the respective funerals for all the people lost in the Camelot power-struggle (I’ll take a school funeral, but don’t come at me with school weddings or I’ll lose my shit).

Tedros and Agatha, poor traumatized children, are on their way back to Camelot to try and get stuff back under control and do royal things. Sophie is pretty much on her own, with the remaining faculty of the school, as well as the new kids (yeah, Hort’s staying dead, boo hoo, I’m not sorry sbfhbsdb). Nicola will be returning home to Gavaldon soon, since the school schedule is already messed up beyond repair and everyone is taking some time off anyway. She was only staying there until christmas originally, so might as well.

Public opinion on the main trio is kinda weird at the moment:

Tagatha suffered a coup, then a while laterTedros killed the brother of his usurper, whom had been more popular than him, and well, they do tell people that Japeth killed Rhian, but it’s not like they have receipts? Like, there’s no way to fact check that. They could very well have killed Rhian, we, as bystanders, wouldn’t know? You can bet rumors like these don’t just go away.

And Sophie?

Well, I think public opinion on Sophie was already fear-based rather than coming from a place of admiration for her acts. People aren’t sure of her alliances anymore, and don’t really know how to behave around her so they mainly avoid her. Now that Dovey and Hort are dead and everyone else is resuming their quests, she’ll be pretty much on her own to deal with the aftermatch, which is not only sad, but also probably not healthy. She considers staying with Agatha, but she doesn’t want to add more scandal to the Camelot situation.

So she decides to go back to Gavaldon. Not permanently tho. Just to visit her father and take some time off to decide who could balance her well enough to be appointed as Dean Of Good. 

She'd choose Agatha, but you know, Agatha is kinda busy. Plus, it'd be good to see her father. Watching most of your parental figures drop like flies really puts things into perspective and maybe (just maybe) there's still something to salvage there.

Not many people know she's at Gavaldon, and that's on purpose. For once, Sophie just wants to be left the fuck alone, so she just tries to lay low and not bring unnecessary attention to heself. It's so unlike her to do so that when she walks in to have lunch at Nicola's pub, no one but Nicola even recognizes her.

And if Nicola keeps her company and accompany her on walks, well, it’s no one’s business. Bonding time? Bonding time.

Time

Mystical time

Cutting me open, then healing me fine

Were there clues I didn't see?

You know what these kids need after this Camelot shitstorm? Therapy, that’s what.

There’s no therapy in The Woods, so friendship will simply have to do. Please sir, let these kids heal.

Nicola was dragged to SGE while her father was sick and knew no one there personally, then got dragged again, now into a power struggle where she almost died multiple times, dated a guy, broke up with a guy and I can’t even remember what else but that sounds like a stressful time considering how close together the events from TCY are compared to TSY. What does she want to do now? Will she become a knight? Will she remain in Gavaldon? Does she have to finish school? How have Hunter and her dad been? Whatever went down with her brothers? Why was she important in the first place? Lots to reflect and self-search.

And Sophie. Oh Sophie.

Sophie fell once again for a ‘get-love-’quick’ scheme, not once, but twice! That is not something easy to look in the face and forgive yourself for.

With Rhian, it backfired by hurting everyone she loved, and after the shit Rafal pulled on her, she should have known better. But can you blame her? It’s not like the Rafal thing left her unscratched: you try being in an abusive relationship with a predator, see if you don’t get some trauma. And instead of doing the hard thing and keeping up the work she had been doing on herself she threw her progress out the window the moment Rhian said what she wanted to hear!

After that went belly-up, she at least managed to help her friends, but then later that backfired and she got brain-washed (are we gonna talk about this? disturbing much?). Then, she got fragile enough for her to attempt to find purpose in her life within Hort’s feelings for her, even if she didn’t actually reciprocate those feelings, simply because she was sure of them and they were familiar.

And later, even Hort was taken away from her. 

(Probably for the best, given their attachment had been… precarious, to say the least.)

Therapy, I’m telling you.

A string that pulled me

Out of all the wrong arms right into that dive bar

Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire

Chains around my demons

Wool to brave the seasons

One single thread of gold tied me to you

These two would be so good for one another.

I think that being alone when you’re going through something is literally the worst you can do, but when you have someone who just…. gets it, you know? They were there too. They understand. It forms a connection.

After OTK, both of them (Sophie mostly) have enough on their plates for them to go down a dark path to a horrible place. But they don’t. Cause they are here for each other and have their support system to help them.

Does that translate into late nights drinking together after the pub shuts down? Maybe.  Keeping tabs on each other to make sure they’re sleeping and eating right? Yes. Keeping secrets and confessions? You got it.

And then my friends, begins the pining.

Cause, you know, they’re just gals being pals, gals being gay- wait what.

Nicola probably comes to terms with it first, but thinks Sophie is not interested in her like that (she also suspects that Sophie only sees her as Agatha’s stand-in and will drop her eventually once Agatha is no longer in such high demand.) Sophie is, in classic Sophie-fashion, neck-deep in denial, she’s not a lesbian right? she’s boy crazy, she’s not a lesbian-

Except she never felt like this with any of those boys. The only comparison she has is what she feels for Agatha, this feeling of being heard and seen and understood, but-

But Sophie doesn’t want to kiss Agatha.

And in retrospect, she never wanted to kiss anyone like this either.  Tedros who, Rafal who, Rhian who, Hort who, these bitches could never.

Eventually they attend the official tagatha wedding, HELD AT THE CASTLE, as each other’s plus-ones, and well, maybe consider checking my eventual OTK-epilogue for more on this, once it eventually comes out.

Cold was the steel of my axe to grind for the boys who broke my heart

Now I send their babies presents

Very self-explanatory, Tedros may be Sophie’s favorite ex, but he’s still an ex and they will be killing each other if left unchecked for two long unsupervised.

Nicphie as the tagatha baby godparents. Please, YES.

I’m not gonna go into detail because children make me uncomfortable,  I wish this was a joke, haha, but yes, Sophie and Nic pic the presents together and they attend the baby shower together. Are they dating, are they just married but don’t know it yet? I wonder. They're just together and no one really knows what's going on.

Gold was the color of the leaves when I showed you around Centennial Park

Hell was the journey but it brought me heaven

You know what’s funny? I didn’t tell you anything between the wedding and the baby shower. Remember how there was an opening for Dean of Good?

Yeah, too late to send in your resumes, position is already filled.

Sophie shows Nic the ropes of being Dean, or at least that’s how she’ll present it, but they’re still sort of figuring it out together. And that's okay.

They spend summers traveling around, christmas in Gavaldon, new years in Camelot and all is well. Their fingerglow colors now match. But it’s, unfortunately not gold.

Time

Wondrous time

Gave me the blues and then purple pink skies

And it's cool

Baby, with me

Yeah, it’s fucking purple.

I can’t remember if Nic has a canon fingerglow color, but I don’t really care much for canon, do I? I just really like the imagery of it, so it’s blue and pink mixed together. Because, you know I’m a symbolic bitch.

And isn't it just so pretty to think

All along there was some

Invisible string

Tying you to me?

Anyway, I am correct, this is the post.