#is she someone outside the tv they're getting glimpses of?

[corallapis]

rewatched space babies just now and the 'they're inside the tv show' theory is making a whole lot of sense. hitting all the beats of what feels like quintessential dw, but kind of oddly fitted together. the 'last of the time lords' lore dump, sonic-ing the phone to call mum, the tardis translation/the nanny filter, 'every story needs a hero,' the doctor saving the monster/'you save them all,' giving the tardis key, 'tell your mum not to slap me,' scanning the companion without her knowledge... and the snow/memory scene is a literal flashback, just with the characters remembering what the tv showed us.

[byanyan]

@chronal-anomaly sent:ㅤ[ Discover ]

extensive scar promptsㅤㅤ∘ ˚ ( accepting )

[ DISCOVER ]ㅤfor sender to see receiver’s scars for the first time 

ㅤwhen she takes their arm into her hands, gently pulling it closer, they don't think much of it. assuming she's merely trying to get a better look at the tattoos scattered across their skin, they almost don't bother tearing their eyes from the tv, perfectly content to let her study them and even ask a few questions if she feels so inclined. in fact, if it wasn't for the featherlight touch which ghosts across their inner wrist in the next moment, they likely would have remained blissfully unaware of what her gaze is actually focused upon.

attention snaps quickly down to where a fingertip just barely traces across their skin, and byan's arm twitches with a poorly restrained flinch. the line she follows is pale; a distinct scar long healed over, present in a cluster of similar markings which all vary only slightly in length, width, and depth. they're neater than a lot of the more jagged, thicker wounds gained from past fights, too organized and uniform to have come from any outside violence.

it's obvious what they are to anyone with even the slightest familiarity with such a thing. damage done by an angry, miserable kid who was struggling to exist with no support, who had no better outlet for all the pent up emotions that were in desperate need of release. a kid who was just trying to survive without really knowing why.

lena's seen their scars before. —not these ones, at least not this close, but others. there's always been some feeling of vulnerability in allowing her to see them, but it's always been a feeling that's relatively easy to brush aside, or to act like it simply isn't there. this, though... this is different. these are the marks they're most protective of, the ones which reveal too much to allow them to be shared — more so even than those gained from the people who were supposed to protect them in the past.

these scars share a clear story. one which can't be believably reshaped into something else like the rest of those which mar their body. to allow someone to see them is to allow that person a glimpse of the darkest time in their life.

the urge to tear their arm free of her light grasp is sharp and intense, fuelled by equal parts panicked fear and defensive anger. it's quite an audacious move, to begin so openly inspecting such obviously sensitive scars, and were this anyone else, they'd have earned themselves a punch square to the side of the head. ...but this is lena. lena, who they know holds no malice in her actions, who has seen much worse of them and never judged. that doesn't make it easy, to let her in on something they hold so closely to their chest, particularly when they haven't offered that information, but... it makes them a little more okay with the result.

after the passing of another moment or two in silence, byan quietly tugs their arm free, pulling it close to fold over their lap. anxiously, they lick their lips, nerves vibrating beneath their skin as they try to come to terms with being so seen. comfortable as they might be around lena, they've never been able to handle such emotionally charged silence particularly well. they need to say something, now, before the urge to run becomes overpowering.

ㅤㅤ" did i ever tell you 'bout this one? "ㅤspeaking abruptly, utterly ignoring everything that's just transpired, their opposite hand comes around to run along a much larger scar that cuts across their bicep. tapping it twice, a rather forced smirk is set very purposefully across their lips.ㅤ" guy thought i was tryin' to steal his girl, wanted to fight about it. i was more interested in her knife collection than i was her but, y'know. i'm always down for a good fight. plus i figured if i embarrassed him enough, she'd realize she could do better, so why not? life's no fun if you're not crushin' the dreams of a few men, right? 'n the worst part was that this was the only good shot he got in. pretty pathetic, honestly. "

[floralegia]

Please tell me about actual catboy kyo sohma 👀

OOOOOOH yeah so that one's been kicking around in my WIPs for a few years at this point; I keep coming back to twiddle with it, but the issue I'm running into is how to resolve the plot in a satisfying way. I'm stuck on the "And then they come up with a cunning plan!" part of things, basically. BUT, the basic premise is that like... rather than humans who are cursed, the Sohma zodiac members are hybrids who are essentially kept as pets/status symbols by the head of the family. But there's no, like, mystical compulsion element, they're literally just held captive. So Kyo, treated especially poorly just as in canon, escapes, and runs away to find Kazuma, who he'd known as a child and always wanted to try and help him get away but could never manage it. Kazuma is living in an apartment next door to recent-high-school-grad Tohru, who runs into Kyo and thereby gets pulled into the whole thing because now she's seen him and she knows he's there and Kazuma could really use someone else's help to keep Kyo out of trouble anyway etc. etc.

Snippet under the cut!! <3

--

Tohru has never met an actual, real hybrid. She's... occasionally seen them from a distance, especially when she was working at that big office building in high school; sometimes she'd be there late at night, and one of the men who worked on the upper floors would also be there late, and with them would be a woman, usually young, usually with a cat's tail or rabbit's ears or, sometimes, little horns peaking out of their artfully styled hair. And, of course, it's impossible to escape hybrids on TV and things--she'd been just the right age when the first all-hybrid idol group had debuted, and while Tohru had never really been interested in idols, it was impossible to miss regardless.

But. There's a difference, isn't there, between seeing the giggly, flirty girls on leashes in that big empty office building from half a floor away, or catching a glimpse of an idol on television who happens to have dog ears, and having a hybrid slumped across her doorstep. And there is.

A hybrid on her doorstep, that is.

On Tohru's doorstep.

The fact that he's a complete stranger would have been surprising enough, but the ears, the tail, his vividly orange hair--all of that is... more. Stranger. Decidedly outside of the norm.

She's only lucky, she supposes, that he's sleeping; otherwise he no doubt would have noticed her walk up, and she'd be gawking and stuttering with an audience. But, thankfully, the boy--man--hybrid--person--is slumped against her doorframe, his legs haphazardly spread out in front of him, arms crossed tight across his chest, chin tucked in, fast asleep. 

Is she seeing things? Maybe she's seeing things. She's just off a long shift at the cafe, and there had been an even longer shift at her other job before that, and she still hasn't quite recovered from working overtime this weekend, so maybe this is just... exhaustion? Maybe Uo-chan and Hana-chan have been right to worry about her after all. Oh, it's going to be terrible to face them after she admits that she really has been working too hard, so hard that she's started hallucinating beautiful hybrid boys on her doorstep, especially because she really can't afford to cut back on her hours, not if she wants to keep her doorstep--

Abruptly, the boy in question shifts, letting out a short little sound that might be a snore, and Tohru squeaks so loudly she's worried she'll upset the neighbors, let alone wake up this--this--whoever-he-is. And, sure enough, he does begin to wake, or rather, he spends a few seconds slowly meandering toward wakefulness and then snaps to attention all at once, staring up at her with big amber-brown eyes that narrow within seconds, clearly trying to sort her out.

"What are you looking at?" he snaps. Tohru jumps a little at the sound of his voice, both because she, somehow, hadn't been expecting him to speak and because of the fact that he sounds--well--mad. His expression is easy enough to read even without hearing him speak, of course, but... still. The vehemence comes as a bit of a shock, and she finds herself holding her hands up in front of her nervously, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. 

[ohifonlyx33]

Maybe There Is A Way Home

so, this was going to be a brief hypothetical blurb about "what if" and it was going to be one maybe 2 paragraphs long with no effort put into it whatsoever. But then I started putting a little more effort into it...

And I guess I had a lot of feelings because OOPS I ACCIDENTALLY WROTE A SUPER ANGSTY PETERGWEN FIC WHERE GWEN STACY IS ALIVE IN ENGLAND BECAUSE OF ~NWH SPOILERS.

Sorry in advance if I did a bad job editing as I wrote. It's been a lot time since I wrote anything this long.

And yes, i named the London Boy Andrew.

-----

The first thing Peter does when he gets back to his world is go to visit Gwen's grave to tell her he met someone--himself, a couple of him-selves, actually--and that he saved someone special to one of his alternate selves. He'd saved the other Peter's Gwen.

But her grave isn't there. And neither is her father's.

He goes to fire escape outside her room, but her room is--well not quite empty, but uninhabited. The furniture was changed around, and there were things that hadn't been there before.

He finds another window to the house and catches a glimpse of Captain Stacy sitting in front of a TV.

His heart beats faster. Where is Gwen?

Reluctantly he knocks on the door, "Hey, Mrs. Stacy..." He makes up some excuse about his phone breaking and needing to get Gwen's address to send her something. He figures out she went to Oxford and still lives in London.

He flies over there without even packing. He almost doesn't need the plane to get there. He feels like he could have swum or swung there faster.

He gets there only to find that she's living with some guy... or at least it seems like they're headed home together. He's devastated and overjoyed at the same time. He hangs back without saying anything, but stares from a distance.

She sees him anyway. She always had a knack for noticing him when he felt invisible.

She says his name tentatively at first, but when he doesn't move, she yells his name more forcibly, like it's a swear word. She motions to the guy next to her to wait for her, and walks in a straight line over to him. When she demands to know why he's here, he says nothing.

He should leave, disappear, but he can't look away and his feet are frozen. Tears are forming in his eyes now, and she asks again more gently, adding after a while in silence that he's worrying her.

Finally his voice, shaking to keep from cracking, replies apologetically that he shouldn't have come here.

He turns around and turns the corner, but she follows him and grabs his arm. "Hey!"

Her solid corporeal form is enough to spin him back toward her and envelope her into his arms. He hugs her close and tries not to cry like a baby. He cries like a baby nonetheless.

"Peter, you're scaring me. What happened. Is it.. Is it Aunt May?"

"I just... missed you... I missed you, I missed you. So much. So so so much. And-- And you're here, look at you. You're here and you're safe."

"Peter, we broke up five years ago. I don't get it."

"Neither do I." he laughs some of his tears away. "I can't figure out why-"

She squints at him "Did you hit your head?"

He wipes his face, trying to compose himself. "No. No... You're right, right... and you have..."

"Andrew?"

"Right, right. Andrew. How long have you been, uh... how long have you been seeing..."

Then he notices Gwen looking past his shoulder.

"Gwen, you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine, Andrew. Peter this is..."

"Andrew, right. Cause you just said his name... Hey, I'm Peter... As you... you might have guessed. Cause she just said... Yeah. That's me."

Like an idiot, Peter offers his hand and hopes his face doesn't look too distraught.

"Right.... Peter." Andrew takes it suspiciously. "So how do you know Gwen?" A polite British smile veiling distrust.

Peter and Gwen share a glance. "High School," Gwen explains.

"Yeah, she saved my life more than once with science. Uh, in science class, I mean. Cause she's... You know... She's so smart. And I had no idea what I was doing... in high school."

"Right... Peter was kinda an idiot in high school."

"Hurtful."

"Mmm, but true," she quips, a cold edge in her voice, but the hint of a smile playing at the corner of her lips.

He shakes off the urge to grin at being put in his place by the living and breathing and still-brilliant Gwen Stacy, buries the pang of hurt that comes from knowing he'd hurt her, and turns his focus back to her boyfriend.

"Anyway, I'm very sorry to take your time, I didn't mean to... I just... I was... in town. You know, sight seeing... castles and stuff. And I thought I'd, you know, say hi. But I didn't mean to... I should get going. It was really good to see you Gwen. I'm glad your doing well. It was nice to meet you."

Peter tries to jump and pull the rip cord, desperately looking for the way out of this conversation, but to his surprise his parachute snags on Gwen Stacy's voice calling his name.

"Peter, wait." She looks at Andrew imploringly who looks confused but says nothing. "You.. you came all this way... You want to at least come in for a few minutes? It's cold."

"Oh... I... I really... Thanks, but I can't."

"The castles aren't going anywhere, mate." Andrew chimes in, projecting a level of confidence and security and trust that Peter is pretty sure means Andrew hates him.

---

Somehow Peter Parker finds himself in Gwen Stacy's flat. With her boyfriend. Being offered a beverage. "Do you have hot coco?"

She catches his reference and chuckles. "What am I, seventeen?"

"Chocolate house." he grins.

Gwen clarifies the inside joke for her current boyfriend, leaving out the part where she was dating Peter and hiding him in her room, and goes into the kitchen with Andrew behind her.

Peter waits in the living room for a few moments, contemplating how rude it would be if he just left without explanation.

Just as he's about to jump ship, Andrew comes in and explains that he has to pop out for a few minutes. Peter sees the clear signal in his eyes. A warning without words not to try anything with Gwen.

Gwen joins them a moment later with a mug in her hand. She stands uncomfortably next to Andrew as he kisses her on the cheek. "See you in a few," she assures him under her breath before he leaves.

"So you two--"

"Yeah, yeah. Took me a while to started dating after... But then I found Andrew, and he's great. We've been dating for a few months." She hands Peter the mug. "He's really sweet--"

"He seems ni--"

"He is. He is nice. Much nicer than you. Nice enough that when I asked for a few minutes alone with you, he was really understanding. So are you going to explain what is really going on before he gets back? Why are you here?"

"I..." He sputters around for a few minutes trying to figure out where to start. He lands on the couch, sets the mug down, and starts explaining the multiverse. "Okay so look, I'm minding my own business one day, right, and then suddenly there's this glowing orange portal and I went through to this alternate universe, right?"

"Wait seriously, you're telling me you saw some random portal and you just decided to step through it?"

"Yeah."

"Idiot... And you're saying the multiverse theory is-"

"Yeah. It's all true."

"I knew it!"

She sits and listens as he gives a brief recount of his story.

"I haven't run into myself, and I'm still living in the same apartment... So I'm pretty sure this is my timeline. Or at least I thought I was. Now I'm not so sure..." He lowers his gaze, and his voice, "There are a few pretty big changes since we saved Connors and Max."

"Changes? Like what?"

No answer. He gets up and paces.

"Like... Like..." He stares into her eyes and asks what he's dying to know, "Why did we break up? I just don't get it."

"Oh."

"Look, just assume I don't remember anything the last... 5 years or so. So what happened?"

Her voice gets quiet as she looks down at the mug he hasn't touched.

"That's what I would like to know. You... You never told me why. You were supposed to come to England, and you never showed up. You didn't bother to call or even answer my calls. You went totally silent. I had to call Aunt May to make sure you were actually still alive. I assumed it had something to do with with the pressure of saving people's lives, or maybe because you felt guilty about my dad's accident."

He takes that as a starting point to ask questions. Quickly he pieces together that her dad hadn't died fighting the Lizard. Instead he had been left paralyzed in an alternate version of events with Harry.

He sits back down, heavy from the ache in his chest "That's not how any of it happened in my timeline... But it sounds like.... like curing Dr. Connors and Max... fixed a lot of things."

"How was it different?"

His leg is bouncing anxiously, "You, um, you never went to Oxford."

"I stayed with you?"

He shakes his head. "Not exactly."

"Why?"

"Your dad... he got really hurt stopping Connors, not Harry. And he made me promise to leave you out of it--this life. He was... So I promised him before he... And I was worried you would get hurt next. Hurt because of me." He's on the verge of crying again.

"Peter..."

He looks at her once, eyes brimming with tears, then hangs his head, ashamed. "He died, Gwen-"

She keeps a brave face, but tears fill her eyes instantaneously as she connects the dots. "So you kept away."

"I kept trying. I kept pushing you away and pushing you away, until finally you pushed me away. You said we were on different paths, but I was still... I was going to follow you... "

"So what happened?" She holds her breath as they lock eyes and she sees the deep pain in his soul.

"Your dad was right... I should have stayed away. I'm sorry. I'm so... I'm so sorry. I shouldn't even be here."

She moves closer and puts a hand on his knee to stop him from getting up, whispering his name imploringly. "What else? What aren't you telling me?"

He buries his head in his hands, unable to look at her. But he feels her hand moving to his back and crumples under the weight of her touch. He confesses his guilt in a whisper. "I couldn't... I couldn't save you.

The blood drains from her face and tears start falling from her eyes as he pulls her into another hug and whispers, "I'm sorry" over and over, desperately, between his strained cries.

With some great effort she finds her voice. "It's not your fault."

---

When Andrew returns a minute later, he finds Gwen sitting alone on the couch, still crying. A cup of untouched hot cocoa on the table.

"He's gone?"

She nods. "He's the one that ghosted you, isn't he?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"And now I understand what he's been going through for the last five years. And I don't hate him anymore."

"You forgave him?"

She nods.

"You still love him." He states it as an incredulous fact.

She doesn't move, but her silence speaks volumes. Her eyes are apologetic when she dares to glance up at him.

He shifts his weight, crosses his arms, bracing himself. "What about him?"

She nods. "He would never say it. Not now. Not here like this..."

"I just want to know what it means."

"I don't know. I don't know what it means or what to do about it."

---

Two weeks later Peter Parker hears a knock at his door. No, his... fire escape? He opens the window in his bedroom as he pulls Gwen Stacy inside.

"Hi."

"What are you-?"

"Look, I know it's complicated. And it's going to be hard-"

"Gwen-" He tries to turn away but she keeps her face in front of his. "You shouldn't... you shouldn't have-"

"I know that you've been suffering for a long time-"

"You shouldn't have come here. I'm sorry, but-" "No, no, no... No." she insists, placing her body firmly in front of his. "Because Andrew had a lot of questions about us, and I told him I had to go find the answers without him. And climbing this fire escape was NOT easy, so you're going to listen."

She squares her shoulders and shoots him another deadly look, daring him to move her, knowing he wouldn't. Challenging him to try.

He clenches his jaw, but remains silent. When he breaks eye-contact, she knows she's won one fight.

"I came here because seeing you again... I can't help thinking... what if we have a shot at a second chance?"

"Yeah, a chance to do the right thing. To let you go this time." he says flatly.

"Or a chance to get our timing right. To learn from our mistakes."

"You risked your neck climbing a fire escape. To my window. What exactly have you learned?"

"That you can't avoid risk no matter what you choose! You have to choose what you value you more. You can risk it all and loose it all, or you can live your life regretting everything. Either way, it's a risk you have to face. It's the cost of being Spider-Man."

"I know that. I lost it all. I lost you. You. You were the cost Gwen. And I regretted that cost every day."

"What if we're meant to accept that risk though? Spider-Man takes risks every day, pursuing what he believes is right. And I love that about you. I just want a chance to do the same. Because I can't risk walking away again when we have another chance. Not when I still-"

She steps toward him, but he steps away. She hopes he doesn't notice her flinch. But she's hurt at the rejection.

"I learned... I learned to keep my distance. That was my mistake."

"See," she shakes her head in distaste, "that doesn't sound like a good moral of the story to me. That's a terrible lesson." One step closer. "Just awful, really."

Her attempt at a lighter tone is met with his dead silence. He's still lost in his grief and shame. But she thinks she sees a crack in his armor widening. If she can just get through...

She lowers her voice, resting a hand on his heart, eyes peering into his. "We all need people, Peter. It keeps us sane and human. And I know that you blame yourself for what happened, but you were not responsible for my--

"Yes, I was. Yes, I was... "

"No."

He moves her hand away, looking miserable, "Yes, Gwen. I was."

"You weren't. I'm sure I knew the risks that come along with dating Peter Parker. I signed up for them."

His whole body seems to react violently to her words, "See? See? That's exactly what got you killed. And I won't let that happen again. So just stop!"

She purses her lips and narrows her eyes and spits out his own name, scolding him. Mixed in with all the pain she's feeling, she feels a spark of indignation towards Peter for... for what really? For pushing her away? She knows he's only trying to keep her safe. Still, he's being stubborn. He's being cold. He won't listen. He's-

He's breaking down on the bed beside her.

"I can't- I- I can't. You don't understand how it felt to hold your body in my arms, to know it was my fault. You don't know how badly I-" he inhales sharply, like he's hurt.

Gwen breathes out a fearful "What?"

"...I wanted to die. Part of me did."

She realizes his armor is gone. His stony defense is all but ash. He's vulnerable now, and his fear is gripping him. And she's overwhelmed by his love for her. She falls to her knees in front of him, looking up at his crest-fallen face. She would give anything to make him happy again.

"I'm sorry." she whispers. "I'm sorry." She reaches to wipe the tears from his eyes, but he swats her hand away. She doesn't wince. She understands. This is scary for him. It's terrifying for her too, if she's honest.

"Don't."

But if Spider-Man could be brave enough to dive off the tallest buildings in New York and swing head-first into danger without a second thought, Gwen Stacy had another kind of courage. She would lay her heart out on the line time and time again. As long as she believed he loved her, she would stay by his side and help him fight his fears.

"This is our second chance to learn to be happy. Don't you want to be happy? "

He nods once. Barely. Then shakes his head. "I don't deserve it."

"Look at me, Peter. Look."

He meets her gaze with honest eyes full of love and fear. There he is.

"I'm here. I'm here and I'm alive. You did that. You fixed it. This is possible because of you. You saved me."

She reaches up wipes his tears away anyway. She kisses his tear stained cheeks and his eyes flutter closed. "Spider-man deserves a second chance to be happy. Don't we both?"

"I just want you to be happy."

"So don't push me away this time. Please."

Maybe this wouldn't work. Maybe the damage was already done. But Gwen is before his eyes, pleading for his love. And wrong or right, Peter is done resisting. The kiss is deep, full of emotions, tears, passion, fears. And for that moment it feels like just maybe...

Maybe there is a way home for them.

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

$64 vaxleth?:)

"I'll hurt whoever did this to you." (modern au)

Vax is so very lonely. Which is stupid because his best friends live right down the hall and he could just get up and go see them. He has a key to their apartment and everything. But the person he really wants to spend time with is his girlfriend, Keyleth. But she's out at a bar with his sister and Pike. So Vax lies on their couch, kind of watching a movie on TV but mostly just wishing that Keyleth was here.

Usually when they're out drinking, the three of them will crash at Vex's place because Percy makes the best hangover cures. So he's not expecting to see Keyleth until tomorrow afternoon when she comes home looking like death itself and proclaiming that she'll never go drinking with Vex and Pike again. It's a lie, but they both pretend to believe it.

He'll make her some food and then sit with her on the couch until her hangover is mostly gone at which point she'll either try to convince him to go on a walk with her or to go see a movie or something like that. And he gives in to her every time, even if he has a shit ton of work to do.

Vax is almost asleep on the couch when he hears the front door open. "Vax?" Keyleth calls softly. She doesn't sound drunk.

Vax is awake immediately, whipping to look toward the door where Keyleth is tugging off her shoes and coat. He squints to look at the clock on the cable box. It's not even eleven.

"Home so soon, Kiki?" He asks as he sits up, clicking on another lamp. As he does, he catches a glimpse of her for real. She looks just as beautiful as ever, but his eyes catch on a large bandage wrapped around her left forearm. He jumps to his feet and walks over. "You okay?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah I'm fine," she brushes him off as she walks over and sits down on the couch. As she sits, her skirt rides up and he sees a blooming bruise on the outside of her thigh.

A feeling of protectiveness washes over him and he walks over to her quickly, sitting down next to her, looking at the bruise. Then he looks back up at her, "I'll fuck up whoever did this to you."

Keyleth rolls her eyes, "It's fine. It doesn't hurt that bad. Look, someone accidentally dropped a glass on my arm and it cut me when it broke. Then I fell on my ass trying to move back from it. I'm fine." When Vax's accessing gaze doesn't leave her wounds, she grabs him by the back of the neck to make him look at her. "The guy offered to call 911 in case I needed stitches but I just told him to get me an Uber to go home because my boyfriend is an EMT. I'm fine."

"Okay," he admits. "Can I look at the cut?"

She nods her consent and lets him start to unwrap the bandage. Vax's hands are gentle as he looks at the injury. It's a pretty long cut, but it doesn't seem too deep. It's still bleeding quite a bit though so Vax quickly gets their first aid kit and covered the cut in butterfly bandages to help the skin heal before he wraps it in fresh gauze.

"There, that should do it," he says softly, kissing the back of her hand as he finishes. She thanks him with a kiss on the cheek and cuddles down into his side.

"What are we watching?" She asks, looking towards the TV. Vax smiles a little and passes her the remote.

"Whatever you want."

101 ways to say I love you prompts

[cozza-frenzy]

SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 2: Thoughts on Deltarune as a Long Metaphor

Basically an essay summing up where I think Deltarune is going, and the story it's trying to (slowly) tell. Text is under the cut. Content warning for mentions of suicide, self-harm and abuse.

Okay so, I saw someone's post about Kris' goals being at odds with the player - and since as of the end of Chapter 2, it's pretty much solidly established that Kris is not only able but WILLING to make Dark Fountains, creating new Dark Worlds, a lot of people are assuming this makes them evil. Our "job" as the player is to save the world. Meanwhile, they want to destroy it - an act that understandably comes across as "evil". However, this largely ignores the nuance of the situation; or not to put too fine a point on it, tl;dr Kris' life fucking sucks, and their actions in Deltarune might just be a "long metaphor" for suicidal ideation. But let's back up a little. Why does Kris' life suck? Well, starting at home, we can already see signs of incompetent parenting from Toriel and the now-absent Asgore. Don't get me wrong, these two love their kids very very much - but they definitely seem to have a problem dealing with negative emotions. And that's become extremely toxic when dealing with Kris, an adopted kid who seems to be emotionally disturbed for reasons that aren't the Dreemurs' fault. But what is their fault is, instead of trying to tackle them head-on, Toriel seems to blame outside influences and Asgore is just plain ignoring them. And for Kris, no matter how much they love them, it won't compensate for what they're unintentionally doing. By talking to various characters, we learn that Toriel has (had?) a tendency to drag the family to church when Kris acted out. Additionally, Kris's phone only seems to be a "dumb phone" (capable of sending and receiving calls and texts only), the TV has been hardly used for a long time, and the only person who has a computer (and a video game under his bed) is Asriel, now at college. I don't think Kris is being punished for acting out per se, but given their access to media is being resticted, and Toriel shows other signs of "helicopter parenting" them (she insists on driving them to school even though it's close enough to walk, she holds their hand on the way to the classroom) it seems like she blames outside influences for Kris' strange and defiant behavior. Her approach seems to be that if they're only exposed to what's good and pure and right, it should influence them positively - but instead Kris is left seeking whatever escapism they can get, even illicitly. This might be why all of the Dark Worlds are media-themed - like how Ralsei is the perfect companion for Kris' happiness, resembling the brother they miss so much, the Dark Worlds manifest what they desire the most. Getting to Asgore - I don't have AS much to say about his parenting because he's been pretty uninvolved for these last two chapters, but like in Undertale, his go-to seems to be just plain denial. He still gives flowers to Toriel even though she doesn't want them. He still acts like everything's okay in his life, even though there's little food in the fridge besides eggs (which Sans is selling for a low price - more on this in a second) and he doesn't even have a spare bed for either of his kids to sleep on if they come visit. We get a glimpse of just how deep his denial is when he comes into the shop to get his free pickles - he asks Sans "what kind of flower will make her remember how she felt about me". So he's not only ignoring his current situation, he's also ignoring how Toriel feels, how his actions (probably) led to their divorce, and (again, this is just probable) how Kris might be blaming themselves for said divorce. And, of course, there's the more obvious things... like school, the other monsters in town, and the fact that Kris has shown signs of desperately wanting to fit in (like wearing fake horns). Kris is either socially ostracized or bullied relentlessly at school. Around town, other adults and kids outright call them "creepy", comment on their weird behavior, ask them uncomfortable questions about being human, or just talk AT them about their own lives without showing any interest in theirs. I feel like this last point is particularly important - from our perspective it's just typical

NPC dialog, but nobody except Noelle takes notice of how little Kris is actually contributing to these conversations. Needless to say; as much as their family is trying to help them feel at home, there's no doubt that Kris is an outcast. They're lonely, miserable and socially awkward, and their attempts at trying to connect with people have repeatedly blown up in their face. So, we've established that Kris' life sucks. From the moment they wake up to the moment they go to bed, they're surrounded by people who are overly controlling, outright cruel, or just too incompetent to help. The only other person who seems to understand this is Suzy, who is racking up more and more implications that she comes from a more "obviously" abusive/neglectful home (has a food fixation, seems to be imitating violent/aggressive behavior, doesn't call her parents when she's sleeping over) but she's too young and too busy dealing with her own shit to actually help them. Kris' internal thoughts might even be reflected in what people are calling Chapter 2's "Weird" Run - repeatedly calling for help when they've reached the limit of what they can handle from Spamton NEO, But Nobody Came. Not even Suzy. The only way to get away from this pain is escapism - but with their access to media restricted by the well-meaning but emotionally incompetent Toriel, that need to escape has turned to its most extreme form. The idea that the world would be better off without you, or you would be better off without the world. In the real world this would be suicide, but Deltarune might be showing us Kris' metaphorical suicide. By ending the world and all the people who in it, who from Kris' perspective kinda suck anyway, in the best case scenario the "next world" - what some Darkeners are explicitly referring to as the "Angel's Heaven" - will be better. In the worst case scenario, they're dead and there's nobody left to suffer in their grief for them. From Kris' understandably jaded perspective, it's a win-win... if not for one small problem. They're being controlled by the player. Who, in the Pacifist Run at least, is using them to close the Dark Fountains they keep opening - thwarting their attempts at ending everything. But them wanting to do that doesn't necessarily make them evil, and us "using" them to achieve this goal doesn't necessarily make us evil either - instead, maybe it's our "job" as the player to show them why they shouldn't be doing this. To help them make friends. To show everyone their potential, and show them life is worth living. It's unfortunate that in order to do this we have to take away their freedom to choose - but while there's a big part of them that's already chosen death, there's a smaller part that hasn't. Why do they put "us" - the SOUL - back inside them when they're done doing things outside our control? The same reason someone calls 911 when they're standing on the edge of the bridge. There's still a part of them that wants to see what happens if they don't jump. As anyone who's played Undertale knows, there was one troubled kid in that game who was already gone by the time we showed up. They grew to hate the world so much they thought things would be better if they were dead, and we were too late to SAVE them. But maybe we can still SAVE someone else.

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

Tell me a story about Etaoin Shrdlu.

The sky is a bright and deep blue, like the wings of a summer bird, but the air is as cold as a winter's night. A dense, rolling fog, like the smoke of hundreds of wood-burning fires, obscures any glimpse of the far-off mountains.

The city is dead. It's early, and the streets are largely deserted. The shops are all shut, and there are not many people on the sidewalks. There are few people at all, but they're few of the kind who would be out early on a cool day like this, at night in a cold, foggy city. Everyone is indoors.

(If anyone were out here, in the empty streets, that is, the fog would make it difficult to distinguish one person from the next. This is one of many ways the city is empty, and it wouldn't be hard to believe it's empty even on a day when there are hundreds of people and shops are open and buses are running. The city has been emptied, in a few days, of everything that was worth living for.)

One of these people is passing through a narrow street. He carries himself with confidence, almost jauntily, though the street is empty and the traffic light has only just turned green. The person pauses, for a moment, on the corner to the next street, then carries on to the end of his block. He is wearing a winter coat, with a heavy, fur-trimmed hood. His cheeks are ruddy, his lips and fingernails and ears glinting with bright, pure, blue-white light. He is handsome. He looks a bit like an elf, like the illustrations in fantasy novels.

Another person emerges from an alley on the same corner. She also carries herself confidently. She pauses to look both ways -- at the traffic light, then at the other person, who is now at the far end of the next block.

She wears a dark coat, cut to an angular shape, and a black knit cap. Her long, brown hair is pulled back tightly, and there are deep vertical creases across her forehead. Her pale, angular face and neck are almost colorless in this light. She looks to be perhaps forty, but in this light she's impossible to tell anything for sure.

The two people face each other, on the corner, and they recognize one another instantly. They stand for a long time, and then the woman reaches out and grabs the man's arm and they run up the street together.

The man and woman -- they are called Yud and Etaoin Shrdlu, by those who know them -- have always shared a strange kind of love. In the early days, when they lived together, before the revolution, they were almost lovers. The revolution made a certain sort of sense to them, back then, and they lived together in those days, and they talked about having kids. Things became complicated, though, and the whole project seemed impossible.

In the late-nineties, Yud and Etaoin moved into their own place. Things continued to fall apart, for both of them. The revolution had changed them in ways neither of them wanted to think about.

They continue to live together now, in another city, near the center of the country. This has become their life, and they live in a small, windowless apartment, which they have managed to keep from getting too messy in the years since the revolution. They have a TV -- though there's no reception beyond the range of the antennas on their roof -- and they've gotten used to staying inside during the day, as they did in the cities of old.

They have a bed, and they sleep in it. They use one of their few remaining bathrooms for this. They eat at the tiny kitchen counter. Etaoin makes tea. They watch TV.

The people in their life have become more and more distant, over the years, though they haven't stopped talking to one another. The revolution left them all very unhappy. Now the country is divided, but neither Yud nor Etaoin know anyone on the other side.

The weather has taken a turn for the worse in the last month or so, and the apartment has become cold. Etaoin and Yud do not spend time outside anymore. They know that it would break someone else if they didn't keep an eye on things. It is just as well, they think: if things got bad enough, they would have to leave. They have always lived in the country where the weather was always bad, but now the country is no longer the same.

Yud is a doctor. Etaoin is a computer scientist, the second half of the country's greatest mathematician. He's also a writer, when he has the time -- one of the best writers of his generation, perhaps the greatest. Etaoin likes to read his work, though his taste is sometimes strange, and his style a little too elegant. He can write beautiful mathematics, but he can't write people like he does numbers. They don't always understand how he thinks, but they understand how he thinks about people.

They have a small apartment now, and an old car, and a cat named Japheth (pronounced "Janeth").

Etaoin Shrdlu. Yud. The man who would be John.

Etaoin looks up at the sky, and the light above him is bright in an alien way. Etaoin had always loved the sky, back when it was blue like this. His grandfather had painted it, in the 1950s. He had always loved it. And now he has never again seen it like this, and he has no real concept of what it would look like when it had turned black.

It is not that Yud doesn't like it when he looks out the window. It's just that it's a long time ago. He has forgotten what it was like. What is it like?

He can see the fog on the ground, and on the rooftops. It is thick, and it obscures his view of everything, and he can't tell one building from another. He had always loved the fog, back when it was so thick on the ground you couldn't see across the street, and he still loved it, but now it seems strange to him, like a stranger's face.

There is a thin cloud in front of the sun.

Yud looks down the street. It is empty. The light is gone from his vision.

Yud looks up, and the light in the sky is growing brighter.

The sky is like a blue sun now.

[moviesbuff]

Taken

When TK is taken hostage on a call, Carlos and Owen do everything they can to get him back safe.

Huge thanks to my good friend @a1kitkat for encouraging me to write this. And correcting my many mistakes. Any remaining mistakes are my own. This is my first fic ever. Likes and reblogs are much appreciated.

Marjan looked up from her book; TK had been on his phone since their shift started.

“How’s it going with Carlos?” Marjan eventually asked. And TK smiled innocently.

“It’s great. He’s great.”

“Are you blushing?” Marjan gently teased and TK laughed, his eyes alight with happiness. “I’m happy that you’re happy, TK. You deserve it.”

He smiled, still blushing but before he could say another word, the alarm began to sound, signaling an incoming call.

They immediately sprung into action, heading to the truck with the rest of the team. Owen grabbed the radio for an update, reports weren't clear but he told the team to be prepared for anything though it was suspected a person was in distress on a balcony.

"Possible jumper?" Marjan asked.

"Not sure, we'll find out when we get there," Owen replied. "Police are enroute too."

TK tried to mask his smile, knowing the officer being dispatched could potentially be Carlos. He loved catching glimpses of him while on duty.

When they arrived, they saw a man lying down on a balcony.

“He’s not moving. Judd, get on the ladder and bring him down. TK, Mateo, Paul set up an airbag just in case. Marjan, be ready to assess him for injuries.” Owen told his team.

as Judd was on the ladder going up to the victim, he radioed Owen “I see someone on the ground on the other side, I think he fell from the balcony.”

“Yeah, Copy that. I’ll send TK and Marjan to check it out.” Owen told Judd.

Carlos pulled up just as TK and Marjan left to check on their second victim. Carlos came up to Owen and Owen filled him in on the situation.

TK and Marjan found the second victim behind some trees. Marjan immediately checked for a pulse, she looked up at TK and shook her head. On his belt, they saw a badge. The victim was a cop. She reached her radio “Captain, He’s dead.”

“Ok, Don't move his body. Just get back here and help set up the airbag.” Owen responded. TK and Marjan rushed back to the team.

Judd reached the balcony and started towards the unconscious victim but as he reached to check his pulse, was surprised when he began to move. His priority now being to reassure him, keep him calm, make sure he was alright. "Are you ok, sir? Are you hurt?

"No. I'm fine." The man looked down right away, he saw two firefighters around the dead cop's body. And a cop car was already there.

"All right, then just take my hand and come on the ladder." The man took a look at Judd, and then at the airbag on the ground, and jumped.

On the ground, everyone was surprised when they saw the victim had jumped on the airbag instead of coming down on the ladder with Judd's help. TK went to help the man but he pulled a gun and pointed it at TK.

“Don’t move.” He said. He turned TK around and put his left arm around TK’s neck, his gun on TK’s head. Carlos immediately pulled his gun and pointed it at the man holding TK hostage.

“If anyone moves, I will kill him.”

“Drop your gun and release your hostage.” Carlos yelled.

“That’s not gonna happen.” The man said while taking a look around to see how he could get out of there. He was at least six inches taller than TK and kept TK up with his arm around his neck which made TK stand up on his toes.

“You don't wanna do this.” Owen said.

“Don’t be stupid. You can’t get out of this. Let him go.” Carlos yelled again.

“Put your gun on the ground. Or I will kill him right now.”

Carlos looked at Owen’s pleading eyes and then back at TK, and afraid the man might hurt his boyfriend, he put his gun on the ground.

"Ok, I'm putting my gun on the ground."

"Now Kick it away."

Carlos did as he was told and kicked the gun away.

The man pulled TK towards the truck and pushed him inside, TK sat in the driver’s seat. “Drive.” He said pointing the gun at his head.

“I don’t have a license to drive the truck.”

He put the gun on TK’s temple and said “Drive right now.”

TK started driving.

Carlos ran to his squad car and just as he was about to start the car, Owen sat in the passenger’s seat. “Let’s go.” Owen said. Carlos knew there was no way he could get Owen to stay out of this so he started the car and they started following the truck. Carlos radioed for back up.

In the fire truck, TK was nervous. He kept thinking about when he got shot. He didn't want to go through that again. He tried to focus on his breathing and staying calm. The gunman looked in the side mirror at all the cars following them, then looked at TK and said “If the police catch up to us, I’m killing you first. Drive faster. And turn on the siren.”

Behind them, Carlos and Owen were trying to figure out what to do. Owen picked up his radio “TK? TK come in.”

The gunman looked over at TK. “Are you TK?”

TK nodded his head. “Yeah.”

“Who is he?”

“He’s my Captain.”

The gunman picked up the radio. “What do you want with him, Captain?”

“Listen, man. You’ve got a truck and you managed to escape. Now just let my man go. Ok?”

“We’re driving really fast. If I let him go now, he’ll break his arms and legs.”

Carlos looked angry. His nostrils were flaring. Memories of last time TK was hurt immediately filled his mind. Owen was agitated but tried to remain in control of his feelings. It was the only way he could get his son back.

At this point, there were a dozen police cars chasing the truck. And a news helicopter was in the air.

At the 9-1-1 call center, Grace watched the chase on TV. She could see that was the truck from 126 but she didn't know exactly what was going on. Right then, she got a call from Judd. "Oh, baby. Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, baby. Don't worry about me."

"What is happening? Why are all these police cars chasing your truck?"

"It's TK. He's in danger."

On TV, she could see that the truck was stopping. "Judd, they're pulling over."

The gunman pulled TK out of the truck and into a restaurant. Once inside, he fired two shots in the air. "Everyone get on the ground." He looked at TK "Barricade that door" Then he turned around and ordered one of the waiters to help him. The restaurant wasn't packed but besides the staff, there were some customers in there. He ordered them all to get on the ground and he got TK to collect their phones.

Outside, the police surrounded the place and started evacuating the nearby buildings. Carlos called for a hostage negotiator and a SWAT team.

The hostage negotiator showed up in a few minutes. "Talk to me. What do we have?"

"One gunman. He killed a cop at his apartment. Unknown number of hostages inside. One of them is a firefighter." Carlos told him.

The negotiator called the restaurant.

The gunman was keeping an eye on the hostages and trying to come up with a plan when the phone rang. “Finally.” He picked up the phone after letting it ring for a few seconds.

"Hello. This is Seargent Parker, Austin PD. Who is this?"

“Listen to me very carefully. I want a dark SUV and I want you to get out of my way so I can leave. If you don’t give me what I want, I’m gonna start killing hostages. And I’ll start with the firefighter.”

“First I need to know the hostages are ok.”

“They are all ok. Just get me a car.”

“I need to talk to my boss. Give me an hour.”

“You have thirty minutes.”

After the gunman hung up, TK tried to talk to him. “Maybe you should just surrender. I don’t think you can get out of this.”

The gunman walked towards TK, grabbed him, forced him up and pushed him against the wall. “I killed a cop. There's only one way out of this for me. You better pray they do as I asked. If they don’t, I’m killing you first.” He hit TK over the head with his gun. His head started bleeding and he fell on the ground.

The gunman started pacing the room and peeking through the window to get a view of the outside. TK felt his eyes getting heavy, and try as he might, he couldn't stay awake any longer.

TK woke up with the sound of a gunshot. He looked around and saw the gunman was on the floor. A sniper must have taken him out. He could barely keep his eyes open. In a second, there were cops coming in the place from everywhere and Carlos was by his side, holding TK’s face in his hands, "What happened to your head?" TK was in shock and he was tired. He couldn't answer him. He couldn't say anything. He finally gave in and fell asleep. Carlos hugged TK close to him and called for a medic.

The medics helped TK out and took him to an ambulance. Owen showed up and held his son's hand firmly. "How is he?"

"He has a head wound. We're taking him to the hospital." One of the medics replied.

Next time TK opened his eyes, he was at the hospital, and Carlos was by his side. "Carlos." He tried to sit up but he felt dizzy and had to lie back down. Carlos stood up and helped TK settle back in. "Don't move, babe. The doctors patched up your head and did some tests. You're gonna be ok. They want to keep you for 24 hours to make sure you don't have a concussion. Owen's here, too. He's talking to the doctor."

Right then, Owen walked back in to see TK awake "Son, You need to stop scaring us like this."

TK laughed "No promises."

When the doctors discharged him, Carlos and Owen drove him home.

That night, as TK got ready for bed, he walked into his bedroom, and saw that Carlos was in his bed and under the covers. "I asked Owen to spend the night." Carlos explained. TK smiled and curled up next to him.

As they laid in bed, and Carlos held TK in his arms, TK fell asleep feeling safe.

[lovely-scents]

Hyungwon: Unknown Feelings

Hyungwon is sleeping soundly on the couch. But he is slowly gets awaken with the smells and the sounds from the kitchen. Still being half asleep, he is looking where did the smell came from. And when his sight caught a glimpse of someone at the kitchen, he gets dumbfounded. It feels like as if he is still dreaming.

“Who is it?” asks him without getting up from the couch, but still loud enough to be heard by the girl at the kitchen. She gets startled and turns to him. And when he saw her face, he just lets out a sighs.

“Oh, it’s just you.” he says and continue to lay his head down again.  Looks like he is still hasn’t get used by her presence in this house.

While rubbing on his sleepy eyes, he get himself up from the couch lazily, slowly walks towards the kitchen to check up on her. He is standing close behind her, trying to have a look at her cooking.

“Smells good. What are you cooking?” asks him with his husky, sleepy voice. 

“I made a chicken stew for lunch.” says her nicely. And he just nods.

“Okay. I’ll take a shower first.” he says before he left to their room. She turns to see him walks away from the kitchen. 

It has been three days since they’re living together, but it still feels awkward for her to be in here with him. And looks like he is still haven’t get used with her in here too.

It was an arranged marriage for them. She is the only child in her family, and her family want her to get married with a nice and reliable man who can take a really good care of her.

Meanwhile, Hyungwon is the oldest son from the three siblings. But the second son is proposing to their parents to get married first before him. Their parents are opposing, stating that he can’t get married before Hyungwon did. So, they decided to get him married with one of their friend’s daughter, which is her.

 And both of them ended up getting married after being arranged by their families.

****

Hyungwon just get back from his duty. And looks like he got injured quite badly, especially on his arms. He just casually walks from the front door directly into his room to get the first-aid kit.

He grabs the box from the shelf and walk away. He gets startled when she suddenly appears at the door. Both of them get surprised at each other.

But she gets even more surprised when she saw his hand, covered in blood. “Hyungwon.. Your hands.. A-Are you alright? What happened?” asks her in worries. He can sees her hands trembling in fear by looking at his current conditions right now.

“Oh, it was nothing. I just got injured while working.” he casually says as if it wasn’t a big deal for him. Well, it wasn’t anything new for him anyways. 

Having a job as a homicide detective is very risky, and dangerous too. So, getting injured and scratches while working is quite normal for him. He already get used to it.

****

He sits on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to finished treating his hand. He turns to his side, looking at his torned jacket, covered in his own blood. And he sighs.

“I just bought that jacket last week.. but, seems like I need to throw it out now.” he sighs in disappointment. And he gets back to face her.

He starts looking at her in confused, and leaning down a bit to peek on her face. 

“Are you crying?” asks him while taking a look at her face. She is just keeping herself quiet without answering. She will wipes away the tears with her back hand and sobbing quietly at times, but she is still continue to treat his hand carefully.

“Why are you crying?” asks him again when she is not answering. He takes another look at her, starting to get worries.

“S-Sorry.. I'm just.. I’m just worried about you.” she slowly says with her sad voice, quivering. “Are you always getting hurt like this?”

“O-Oh.. Yeah, I did. But it’s okay. I already get used to it. It’s normal to get hurted while working. Luckily I was being hospitalised just only that once.”

“Hospital..?” 

“Hmm? Oh, I mean.. It wasn’t anything serious. Don’t worry about it too much.” he says while scratching his head awkwardly.  He already lost for words to convinced her.

“I’m sorry that I made you worried. I already get used to face all these kind of things on my own. Nobody ever get worried about me like this before."

"Thank you for worrying about me. I’ll be more careful next time.” he says while wiping her tears with his fingers. And she just nods slowly. 

Weird. He feels something weird inside his chest. He never had this kind of feeling before. It feels a little bit unpleasant inside, but he doesn’t hate this feeling. It’s just making him confused. What kind of feeling is this?

****

Hyungwon is lazing around on the couch while searching for something good to watch on tv. But there’s nothing interesting for him to watch, so he just turn off the tv and sighs.

“Hey, sweetie.."

She put down the magazine in her hands and turns to him when he calls. “Yes?”

“I’m bored. Let’s take a walk outside for a while." 

****

The weather is quite cold outside, but it’s a pleasant evening for both of them. 

“Give me your hand." he says while taking her hand and put it inside the pocket of his jacket. “.. so you won’t get lost.”

She is just letting him and starts walking slowly with him on her side. There are not so many people on the street at that time. And it feels a bit quiet too since none of them are saying anything along the walk. But the silence doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all. Maybe they already get used with each other now. 

As they are walking together on the street, there’s a sudden shriek from an old woman, asking for some help.

“Help! He is snatching my purse..!" the old woman screams aloud, asking for a help. And they can see a man, nervously run away with his bicycle after snatching a purse from that old woman.

Hyungwon just watches him quietly from afar. And when he is coming near into their direction, he casually kicks the bicycle from the roadside, making the snatcher falls dramatically from his bicycle.

She gasps quietly, surprised with his sudden action. She never thought that he would kick off that bicycle to stop the snatcher from running away.

The snatcher gets up angrily and starts to shouts. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!"

But Hyungwon doesn’t even budge at him at all. He just stares at him quietly and wait. And it makes the snatcher gets even more furious.

“Don’t you even dare to pick up a fight with me!”

The snatcher get his fist ready and try to hit him real good. But his plan failed as Hyungwon moves faster than him. He swiftly grabs that man’s hand and twist it to his back effortlessly. He then takes out a handcuff from his back and cuff the man’s hands.

“Hey! Let me go..!" says the man as he is struggling to escape. A police officer suddenly came after the old woman telling him about what’s happening.

“Is everything alright, sir? Did you get hurt?" asks the officer politely as soon as he arrives.

"No, everything is under control. I got him.” he casually says while handing the man to the officer. “Bring him to the station. Make sure he pays for his wrongdoing. And this purse belongs to that old lady.”

“You guys can go first. I'll get along shortly.” 

"Yes, sir!” And the officer takes the man away, followed by the old woman after she thanked him for helping her.

After everything is settled, he turns to her again. She looks so surprised with everything that happened just now. She is speechless and so dumbfounded right now.

Did he always bring the handcuffs whenever he goes out? Even just for a walk like this..?

And that one earlier.. How can he just kick that bike out of a sudden and catch that man in a swift like it was nothing? She is so impressed and amazed over him.

"I'm sorry, but I think we need to drop by at the station for a bit. There's thing that I need to settle up." he suddenly says while scratching his head.

"I hope you don't mind. I'll make it up to you later. I promise."

****

They're having a lazy night together at the couch, watching a movie that has been shown on the tv at the moment.

It's almost 10pm and he's getting sleepy right now. He gently lean his head on her shoulder and start closing his eyes to sleep.

She leans a bit to take a peek at him who's already starts to dozing off on her shoulder.

"Hyungwon?"

"Shh.. I'm tired. Just let me sleep for awhile." he says in half asleep, still with his eyes closed. And he starts nuzzling over her neck, moving closer to her. His hand slowly wrap over her waist, snuggling over her before he drift off to sleep completely.

She just sits there quietly in flusters. His body feels so warm, and his soft breath is gently touching on her skin. It makes her heart flutters, but it gives her a warm feeling insides too.

Her lips slowly curves into a smile. She is caressing his hair and his face lovingly, so tenderly that it almost feel like love.

****

He slowly awakes from his sleep. The tv is already off, and everything sounds really quiet right now. He take a look at the time with his sleepy eyes. It's almost hit 1am now.

He turn to his side, finding her that's still sleeping soundly on the couch besides him. He let out a quiet sigh.

He carefully lifts her up to bring her to sleep in bed and put her back to sleep. He gives her a gentle kiss on her forehead without knowing before he realised what he just did.

He let out another sigh and scratch his head in flusters.

"You're really driving me insane lately. I'm losing control over everything whenever I'm with you. I can't even control my own heart beat, and I don't even know how to breathe properly anymore."

"And sometimes you make me forgot how to breathe too." he whispers.

"I want to keep you for my own. I want you to stay close with me all the time. I like the way you make me feel whenever I'm with you. Sometimes I'm so eager to touch you, but I'm too afraid with the thought of losing you. I don't want to hurt you."

"I don't know what you have done to me. I've never been like this before. And this unknown feeling inside here is killing me. It's suffocating me. I wish I would know what this feeling is.."

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Read Unknown Feelings part 2

[lokilickedme]

Hello My Lady! Just because you asked, here are my faves of yours: #1 King (no surprise here), #2 Jack (too crazy not to love, and the stream crossing of pretty much all your stories is genius) #3 Chem/BD/TTW/TKH/TWK/can't remember them all. They're all special in their own way! Can't believe it'll be 3yrs soon since I started squatting your page!!! God time goes by fast! I'd like to add a special mention for the Muse Meetings, sooo funny, and a Golden Snowflake to Aleks. Cute little bumkin.

Thank you @fudgemuffinanon!  Dear god, has it been that long?  Seems like I joined up last year…*sits here blinking at my posts from 2015, wondering how that happened*

**LONG TEXT POST COMING UP**

You drew the lucky straw today my darling, I’m feeling wordy and in the mood to share.  A lot of people have asked me over the last couple of years how some of my stuff came about, and you mentioned one that gets a lot of asks.

Lemme tell you something about the Muse Meetings.  Way back in 1998 when I got my first computer, one of the very first things I ran across by way of internet fanfiction was a little something called The Very Secret Diaries penned by a writer named Cassandra Claire (who is now professionally published under the name Cassandra Clare).  The Very Secret Diaries (which are hilarious, btw) woke something up in me - mainly because, as a lifelong writer who had never allowed anyone to read 95% of my work, I finally realized that yeah, there were other people out there whose brains deviated from the standard in the same way mine did.  Her writing style back then (in the Diaries specifically, I’ve never actually read anything else she’s written) was very similar to the way I wrote, and those Diaries were exactly the sort of silly, ridiculous, irreverent thing I’d scribbled in my notebooks for most of my life.  And people liked it, she had a huge following based on just those out-of-context glimpses of her characters’ personal thoughts.  She was writing behind the scenes thoughts of characters, things that would never make it into books, and it was brilliant.  That was the kind of stuff I loved to write but had never given myself permission to show anyone.  She was showing hers to people, and they were loving it.

Which gave me the inspiration to not only put my work out there in the public eye for the first time ever, but to stick with my personal writing style (which I’d always assumed wasn’t what other people wanted to read, based on the books I’d been exposed to most of my life).  Not change anything.  Just do me.  And doing me meant writing silly nonsense if I wanted to.

So - The Very Secret Diaries are more or less the inspiration for the Muse Meetings, or at least the official written version of them.  I’d always imagined dialogues with my characters outside the confines of whatever story I was working on, but never thought anyone else would be interested in seeing me write it out.

The Diaries made me realize different.  Not only were her characters yammering and complaining and snarking at each other (both out of character and in), they were doing it in exactly the way I’d imagined my own characters interacting in the real world.  I loved it.  Seeing someone else do what I’d always done in my head - and do it in an official, out-there-in-the-public-eye capacity, was a revelation.  Finally I was able to give myself permission to write the way I wanted to, without restricting myself to the styles and methods in the books in the family library.  It had always been in my head, but now it didn’t have to stay there.  I could write proper stories, but I could also write what was going on in the other room, where the reader seldom gets to peek.  And other people besides myself might like it because hey, there’s precedent.

That was freeing, and I am grateful to Ms Claire for that.

So, a little history that leads up to how and why I finally started writing out the Muse Meetings:

My first fandoms that I wrote for online were Harry Potter and Star Wars (Kenobi specifically).  And yes, way back then (late 90′s - early 2000′s) there were already muse meetings among my characters.  I’ve been doing these for a long time, and I wish the out-of-character stuff I’d written back then still existed (my HP stuff bit the dust when The Restricted Section shut down, and my SW stuff was on FF.net for a little while but honestly I don’t remember my user ID there or the titles of the fics, though I have searched…so they’re most likely lost as well).  It’s sort of a shame because there were some old Anakin/Obi-Wan muse meetings that you guys would have loved…and the stuff between Remus and Sirius while we were hashing out what was going to be in their next chapter?  It still pains me that it’s all lost, but maybe it’s for the best.  That was nearly two decades ago, we move on to bigger and (hopefully) better things.

After my urge to write HP fic fizzled out I stopped writing for a while, but there were always muse meetings going on in my head for stories I scribbled mentally.  To me they’ve always been more fun than the actual stories, which explains my love for gag reels and behind-the-scenes featurettes for movies (I watch those first, always).

And then I found AO3 - funnily enough, I discovered it while searching the internet for one of my lost HP fics - and I decided to start writing in earnest again.  With all those thousands and thousands of fics and endless fandoms, it seemed like the perfect place to indulge my need to share what went on in my head.  And as I settled into the MCU and my stories started to grow to include multitudes of characters, those impromptu staff meetings with my muses kept being called to order.  Stuff that my characters would never say in the context of their stories got said.  Scenarios that were too ridiculous to waste time writing were played out.  Arguments and fights and bantering between characters who, in the restrictive confines of their own tales, would never in a million years interact…now they were throwing poptarts at each other (and occasionally knives) while the side characters wandered out of the room to watch TV or raid the fridge or sat in horror as someone’s until-now unassuming wife brandished a melon baller as a weapon.

It was messy and fun and was by far my favorite part of the writing process.

That’s what eventually became the Muse Meetings.  You want to know how they escaped my head and became an official thing?

Well I’m gonna tell ya lol

One of my very first friends in here, the fantastic @elvenfair1, was one of my first readers at AO3 and she told me I should post links to my fics at this site called tumblr to bring in a bigger audience.  So I opened an account here, followed her, posted some links as suggested, and she and I began messaging back and forth pretty much every night as we wrote our respective fics, bouncing ideas off each other and discussing plot points and brainstorming for character names.  And as my characters sassed me and refused to cooperate with what I wanted them to do, I would tell elvenfair what was going on in my head with my dumbass OCs and OFCs and we’d laugh and gripe about trying unsuccessfully to reel in our unruly muses.

And then one night back in 2015 she said “You should post this muse stuff, it’s hilarious.”

You know what the first thing I thought was?  Cassandra Claire did it 14 years ago and people loved it.  So yeah, I can sure as hell do it if I want.  If nobody is interested in it, at least it’ll amuse me and elvenfair and that’s cool enough.

And so I did.  I started posting them in here first, then as people started requesting them more I eventually moved them to AO3 in a more structured format.  And now you guys have multiple Lokis hurling curses at a bartender and viciously baiting a hapless movie star while teenage versions of two other attendees flirt with unsuspecting OFCs, with an occasional appearance by Thor dropping hints about future chapters and looking for fruit roll-ups.  It’s messy, but it’s fun and I’ve always enjoyed writing it as a way to let my brain decompress, especially when one of my “real” stories has hit a roadbump.

Since then I’ve seen countless other professional writers doing the exact same thing - J.R. Ward even posts her own version of muse meetings on her official website AND has a published book (her Insiders Guide) that is almost entirely nothing BUT muse meetings.   It’s surprising how many writers actually do this and I sometimes wonder if authors like Poe, Steinbeck, Vonnegut, Tolkien, Gaiman, McMurtry didn’t do it themselves (I’d bet money on McMurtry).  Just goes to show there’s not an original idea anywhere in the universe…no matter how much you might believe you came up with it first, someone out there has been doing it for a long damn time before you - and a million more will do it after you :)

Anyway, I haven’t written any muse meetings in a while but they still go on constantly in my head.  I get asked about once a week to go back to doing them, and one day I will, when I have time for it.  My actual fics are struggling for writing time as it is and I made a conscious decision to weed out the unnecessary stuff in favor of “real work” (yeah right lol)…but yeah, the Meetings are still one of my favorite things and I won’t stop doing them permanently - they’ll be back.

So thank you Cassandra Claire for inspiring me to let them fly…if it weren’t for those whacked-out Diaries, the Muse Meetings would all still be in my head with only one person (me) laughing at them.