#love and braggadocio

[stormbreaker101]

I still cannot believe someone writing official KI stuff had the mental strength to call Stallion Quatermane “The Most Competent Man” and put that in OFFICIAL KI PROMOTIONAL MATERIAL.

How do you fucking write that without BURSTING INTO LAUGHTER.

it’s so Stupid. Grade A Capitalized Stupid. I love it.

[outwithlantern]

The true image of the false mirror etc.

[weird-things-to-think]

Braggadocio: Arrogante exhibitionisme de excesiva confianza y exagerada auto-importancia.

[extremely-moderate]

braggadocio

Embrace humility, for true greatness lies not in boastful claims, but in quiet perseverance and genuine achievement.

[kayspaceprince]

.

[snekdood]

Ppl who think giving your all and focusing on miniscule details are perfectionism are lame. Personally, my favorite part of drawing is all the tiny details that dont matter maybe to people like you but will appeal to ppl like me who like to get lost in paintings.

[interstate40]

I think it's soooooo sexy that my comprehensive knowledge of Latin and my natural ability to roll my R's makes learning Spanish soooooo easy

[agnesandhilda]

I <3 hyperpop but there’s a bunch of third-rate hyperpop/alt artists out there who are trying to be the baddest bitch out there all the time without doing anything new or genuine and it’s boring

[espooky]

top 10 achievements of my life last night. fucked all night the bestie boys whole discography starting with to the 5 boroughs.

[madschiavelique]

Hiii! Could I request some angst/fluff jealousy headcanons with Rolan, Raphael, Haarlep, Karlach and whoever else you think might work? For f! (Or gn) tiefling Tav

hi love!! i'm so sorry i took so freaking long but the burnout is insane and i'm trying to get back into both art and writing but i hope this will be good <33

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ characters : rolan, haarlep, raphael, karlach

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ content warning : mention of threesome (not actual threesome), mostly fluff, these are super soft, fem!reader, no use of y/n

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ words : 2102 ( between 444 and 600 per characters)

( not proofread, english is not my first language ☆)

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ rolan : 

Rolan wants to pretend that he's not affected by anything, to keep his composure no matter how much his brothers and sisters tease him. However, he is far from indifferent when he sees someone trying to win you over using his own magical territory.

An elf magician was trying his luck by talking to you, surely thinking that an ‘exotic’ creature like a tiefling had probably never seen a magic trick. He was trying to charm you with coloured sparkles in the air sprouting from his fingers, letting little fireworks dance before your eyes.

His tricks were nothing extraordinary, but the braggadocio with which the elf tried to win you over as if you were an easy mark left a bitter taste in Rolan's mouth.

This pathetic amateur was displaying classic spells, ones you'd obviously seen before. But he had the nerve to get a little closer to you with each trick.

It was when he pulled a rose out from behind your ear that Rolan couldn't stand still. 

A shower of scarlet petals fell from the sky. You looked up at the ceiling of the tower hall, but no one was throwing them, they were all coming down like snow from nowhere. 

With a flick of the wrist, a few falling petals joined together to form two wreaths that impaled themselves on your horns.

Rolan calmly walked over to you, a smile and a triumphant attitude to his gesture as the elf seemed to blush with shame.

“If you're trying to charm someone who's worth more than anything your miserable centuries of existence have brought you, you'd better crown her like the queen she is.”

The elf didn't even say a word, glaring at him before leaving with a hasty step, Rolan watching him until he disappeared behind the tower doors. His gaze fell once more on yours, who also looked as triumphant as ever.

“Like the queen she is, hm?” you repeated.

Rolan's cheeks turned from poppy to cherry, the shelves and tiles in the tower suddenly looking very interesting.

“He had no right to take you for a fool,” he muttered.

You smiled, taking one of the crowns on your horns and placing it around one of his. You cupped his face and kissed him lovingly, pulling away from his lips to look into his eyes.

“All the other wizards may try, only you can enchant me.”

You kissed him on the forehead, moving to the reception desk to greet a customer as you said: 

“Oh and,” you pointed to your flower crown, smiling, “I like these rings,’.

Rolan covered his face with his hands as he turned redder than ever.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ raphael : 

Raphael knows that he has nothing to worry about when it comes to being jealous, because you're faithful to him and he only has eyes for you.

However, he's well aware that the fact that you're his partner can lead to a few mischievous people trying to get at you for various reasons.

The first, of course, is to use you as leverage for Raphael. They think you're his weakness, and while that's not entirely untrue, he doesn't want to involve you in his affairs.

Others simply want to push him to his limits, pester him until he loses his temper.

And others try to get close to you to try to influence you and get Raphael to do things for them. They know that in his darkest moments you're the light that holds him in place, and they try to play on that.

But he knows that no matter how hard they try to make him flinch through you, it's futile.

However, he can't help feeling annoyed when, once again, when Mizora is visiting him on business, she keeps ogling you.

Every visit was like that, with her making undisguised advances towards you, observing every outfit you wore and remarking on those you'd worn before, telling you that she'd buy you some better clothes to suit the beauty you were.

Raphael wanted you to be well dressed; he presented you with a variety of outfits and it was up to you to choose them. It didn't matter to him, you looked stunning in every outfit after all. But it was insulting that Mizora tried to tell him how his taste was awful through her advances to you.

He watched Mizora's insistence from his desk, her behind you, grabbing you by the shoulders to whisper something. Her tail wrapped around your waist, and that was too much.

"Mizora, I think your business here is finished for the moment, I'll study the file you've brought. I've got things to do for now, and I suppose you've got a busy schedule yourself. I'm not showing you the way out, you must surely know it by now."

Mizora gave a dry huff, looking Raphael up and down with annoyance.

"Perhaps your little love could show me the way back ?" she teasingly suggested, looking at you like you were her next meal.

"Don't you have other tortured souls in need of help to care to ?" he sighed, unamused by her comment.

She hummed, frowning at him before disappearing in thin air.

Raphael was about to say something, his lips parted, but you cut him off.

"By the Nine Hells, I thought she'd never end," you sighed loudly in annoyance, slamming the book you were clutching brutally and putting it back on the shelf.

To say that Raphael was surprised was an understatement; he looked at you, mouth agape and eyes wide as you approached him.

"To think she can defeat the master of charm at his own art, in his own house," you said, one of your hands resting on his chest as your middle and index fingers mimicked two legs going up to his shoulder, "devils truly think they can win it all, can't they?’’

He smiled, one of his hands coming to rest on the small of your back to press you closer to him. His free hand came to grip your chin, his thumb caressing the skin of your lower lip.

"I did win it all, didn't I, my little mouse ?"

You smiled, kissing just the corner of his lips without ever touching them.

"I could say the same, my devil."

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ haarlep : 

To think an incubus would be jealous would be ironic, especially for Haarlep. They have taken so many lovers, are not attached to anyone, and their very nature generally isn’t used to making attachments that pull that hard on the strings of their desire-red heart.

Except you. You’re obviously the only one that matters to them, the only one that actually considered them as something more than an object of lust but as a real being.

This connection is something they want to protect, to keep as theirs, as the only thing they ever considered they could have for themselves.

So obviously they are not much of a fan of the fact the Archivist is trying to hit on you.

Being stuck in the House of Hope, they spend their time like they can, and most of the time they spend it with you. Not just because they love you but because you’re the best company they had in an eternity.

And this idiot thinks he has the right to come near you like that.

They see him, trying to have your hands touch when you’re reaching for a tome in the archives. They see how he tries to get closer to you to show you an inscription in one of the many books in the stacked shelves of the room.

However their patience runs thin when you climb on the ladder to get to the higher tomes, and he keeps it steady while his eyes are shamelessly on your ass.

“Little one ?” they call, “why don’t you come over here and read to me ?”

Without questioning them, you go down the ladder under the confused eyes of the Archivist. You walk up to Haarlep, sitting next to him as you open the book, but he stops you before you even start.

“Come on, love, you know you’ve got a much better sit than that.”

They pat their lap, and with a little smile you sit on them. They lace their arms around your waist instantly, pressing their cheek against your neck as they hug you and you start your read.

They keep their eyes planted in his as they press a kiss on your neck that makes you giggle, placing pecks on your skin and making you laugh.

“Are you even listening to me ?” you ask, turning to them with a smile.

“Of course I am,” they assure you, one of their hands coming to caress your cheek before softly kissing your lips. “Please, continue.”

As you set more comfortably against them and continue reading, Haarlep’s eyes go back to the Archivists who’s biting the inside of his cheek.

You’re too immersed in the tome to notice how Haarlep is glaring at the Archivist, their tail circling around your ankle.

It’s silent, Haarlep wouldn’t dare to interrupt you again while you’re reading, but their eyes speak for it all : Mine.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ karlach : 

Karlach isn’t jealous that easily, she trusts you more than anyone in this world after all. she knows you care for her, more than anyone ever did, and most importantly you’re the person she trusts the most.

she has more complicated matters to worry about than you being interested in someone else, such as her heart problems. so naturally, she is not jealous that easily.

One evening, however, you were staying in an inn for the night. You had gone to the counter to collect your orders, as the old couple running the inn had become less adaptable and lively and were no longer serving the food. 

There were quite a few people there that evening, and the little children helped them as best they could. It was while you were waiting at the counter that another tiefling struck up a conversation with you.

Karlach was watching you from afar as she sat at your table, seeing you smile, then laugh as the stranger chatted with you. 

Suddenly her heart felt cold. It was obvious that the man was trying to flirt with you, whispering something in your ear, and you were doing almost nothing to interrupt him or push him away.

The orders finally arrived, and you came back to the table smiling.

"You won't believe the conversation I just had," you began excitedly.

Karlach thought you were going to dwell on the fact that he was funny, funnier than her, better than her in your eyes. 

“Oh yeah ?” she asked nevertheless before taking a sip of her freshly arrived ale, never wanting to break your happiness.

“Yeah! He tried flirting with me, and when he asked if he could buy me a drink, I told him I was taken already.”

Karlach’s shoulders untensed instantly, whatever fear or doubt she had about herself vanished in the air.

“As if he had a chance with you,” she laughed along.

“You don’t know the best part yet,” you leaned towards her to lower your tone, “he asked me if the one I was with was the super hot tiefling lady at my table.”

Karlach blushed as she heard that, hearing from the mouth of other people that she was hot - other than literally hot - always felt so unusual.

“What happened next ?” she asked, leaning towards you as well to hear you better.

“I said yes, and he came to whisper to my ears,” you leaned towards her until your lips were grazing her ear, “would you two be interested in a threesome ?”

Her mouth fell open, the sensation of your lips on her ear like so and the lust-filled suggestion whispered to her was almost enough to make her forget about her previous worries.

You pulled back, grabbing your fork and knife to start your food. “I gently pushed him off, that doesn’t interest me, especially when I have the best partner I could ever wish for. He’s gonna have a hard time being better than best.”

Karlach’s heart was ablaze again, fueled up for the entire night, hells, the entire week.

“I can still make sure you get your ride tonight, sweetheart.” She suggested, tilting her head to the side.

“Finally an offer I can take,” you smiled, bringing your cup of wine to your lips as your eyes set on hers.

“How long till you’re done eating ?”

“Five minutes.”

“Poor owners, they might have to buy a new bed after us.” she laughed.

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: A Day In The Life

————————————————————————-

Summary: You do a mini TikTok vlog of a day in the life with your boys while pregnant. (Pregnancy announcement to the public!)

Warnings: Fluff

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine Universe: Into The Mystic

————————————————————————-

January 10, 2024

After posting some more pranks I've done on Joe, surprisingly, my following on TikTok has grown significantly.

Usually, posting Joe on my socials garnered negative attention, AKA hate. I did it because social media apps were meant to share your life, and Joe was a huge part of my life.

I never meant it in a braggadocios way, but that's what people seemed to take from my family photos and post-win pics with my husband.

That's why I was so surprised to see that everyone loved my Joe pranks.

The comments held a consensus that I’d never seen under a post of mine, they loved Joe and I’s dynamic.

I didn't need the public fan validation to make me feel secure in my relationship with Joe, but for once, they understood how special our relationship was, and some even apologized for past statements.

“They love us, Joe.” - you

“No, honey, they love you.” - Joe smiled

After those words were shared, Joe pointed out how all the comments were mostly praising me.

“take back everything I said abt her.”

“stop she matches joe’s energy so well…”

“the way he can’t stay mad at her, they’re so in love”

“actually such a cute couple”

“they compliment each other so well!”

“i see why joe married her! 🥹”

“i want y/n to be MY mom.”

“who gave y/n the right to be so adorable.”

“she’s so fun!”

“the way joe looks at her.. 😭”

“still jealous, but he loves her sm.”

“MY PARENTS.”

“i bet y/n’s the best mom and wife”

“Everyone’s switching sides now, but they never deserved hate. Joe wouldn't marry her if he didn't love her, and I'm glad that you guys can see that now. She makes him really happy!!”

“See? Some are even requesting more videos, baby. Do you see how many new followers you've gotten?” - Joe

“It's just because I posted content of you…” - you

“No, don't say that. It's because you showed your personality, and they love you. They see why I love you.” - Joe

“Do you really think so?” - you

“I know so. Everyone thinks your pranks are hilarious, you're funny, and you handle me super well.” - Joe

“I do handle you super well.” - you laughed

“The best.” - Joe winked

——

That was two days ago, right after we put the twins to sleep and right before we went to bed ourselves.

Currently being nine in the morning, I just woke up.

It was off-season now, but that still meant early mornings.

This morning was a little different, though, because I was making a ‘day in the life’ TikTok.

Since my pranks had become a hit, I've gotten quite a few video ideas from fans in the comments. Most wanted to see more of our everyday lives and wanted to know what it was like as an NFL wife and mother.

So, I decided to do a short video to show what our family day routine was like on an average off-season day.

The thing is… Joe didn't know it was happening.

Joe loved that I was finally being seen the way he saw me but was still weary of what I was posting.

He wasn't a huge fan of social media, and being super public with our relationship and kids, he detested it.

I respected it, but sometimes Joe would ask to participate in a video unprompted.

Lately, that has become a bigger case, so I was hoping he wouldn't mind taking part in the mini-vlog.

Joe was still asleep when I got out of bed, so I discreetly walked into the bathroom after grabbing my phone.

I wouldn't be talking in the video, just showcasing the sounds of the background and whatever I was doing, while the text that I would put over it later would describe what was going on.

After making little clips of me brushing my teeth, washing my face, and brushing my hair out, I walked back into the bedroom.

Next, I recorded a little snippet of me picking out my outfit - leggings and one of Joe’s hoodies - before turning my phone off to get changed.

Now that I was ready, I headed downstairs to start breakfast.

I pulled ingredients out of the fridge for Joe’s smoothie, omelets for me and me, and some of the ingredients for the boy's pancakes.

Just as I was starting the blender, a sleepy-looking Joe with raging bedhead shuffled into the kitchen.

“G’morning.” - you grinned

Thankfully, he put on sweatpants and a T-shirt, and I was glad of that because he'd complain about being shirtless on camera.

“Hi.” - Joe mumbled

“You good, buddy?” - you laughed

“Mhm. I just don't like waking up to see that you're not next to me.” - Joe

“Awe, I'm sorry. C’mere.” - you

I opened my arms to Joe, and he immediately was in my embrace. My arms were around his waist as I squeezed him, and his head lay on my shoulder.

When he pulled away from me, Joe’s eyes landed on the recording camera and immediately went wide-eyed.

“Why are you recording?” - Joe

“I'm making a ‘day in the life' video. I won't put anything in it that you aren't comfortable with, like what just happened.” - you

“Oh… ok. Yeah, don't put that in, though, because I sound like a baby.” - Joe

His grimace made me laugh because I thought our interaction was cute. Then again, I loved Joe’s needy, soft side. It was purely adorable.

“My baby.” - you grinned

“Stop…” - Joe

Joe was trying to hide his smile as his cheeks turned pink, and I couldn't help but giggle. I loved knowing I could make him blush, even after all the years we've been together.

“Do you need help recording anything?” - Joe

“Not at the moment, but if I do, I'll ask you.” - you

“Okay. Want me to make the pancakes?” - Joe

“Sure! Can I get a clip of you flipping them?” - you

“Of course.” - Joe smiled

Shortly after that, Joe got started on the pancakes, and I recorded a little video to get audio of the sizzling from the hot pan.

When I got a short clip of Joe flipping a mini pancake, I didn't put his face in it, but you could very clearly see it was him. His easily recognized bracelets and hands gave that away, along with the laugh the speaker picked up when he executed the flip perfectly.

“I should be a pro cook.” - Joe

“We both know that shouldn't happen.” - you

Joe busted out laughing and told me to put that in the mini-vlog.

“Will do.” - you giggled

——

Later in the day, I had gotten most of the wanted content filmed, including waking the boys up, breakfast, and playing/cleaning around the house.

Now, Joe, Me, and the boys were on our way to the reason for the entire video.

AKA the ultrasound that I'm having today.

It was a hard launch of my pregnancy, but Joe and I thought we'd include it in the video since my maternity photoshoot wasn't for a couple more weeks. The reason we were announcing it before the shoot was because it was getting hard to hide my growing bump. We’d much rather announce it ourselves than someone screenshot a picture of me in the background with a round belly.

When we got sent back to the ultrasound room, Joe sat in the chair next to where I was. Tyson was in Joe’s lap while Miles sat in the chair next to them.

“You ready to see sissy?” - Joe

Tyson and Miles both nodded, causing Joe and I to both smile.

Soon the ultrasound tech walked into the room and before I knew it, the familiar feeling of cold gel on my stomach made me hiss.

“Okay, Mama?” - Joe

“Gel’s just cold. I'm fine.” - you smiled

Joe made sure to get a good video of you watching the monitor, and he felt tears pricking in his eyes at the sight of his baby girl.

He would never get tired of being called, girl dad, Joe wore it like a proud Boy Scout who had just received a new badge.

“Baby Girl is doing great, measuring how she should be, and is very healthy.” - Tech

“Good.” - you and Joe in sync

After a few more minutes, she wiped off my bump, and I was set to go.

Joe helped me off of the chair and pulled the hoodie back over my stomach.

“I love you.” - Joe grinned

“I love you too.” - you

——

I spent the first thirty minutes back home editing together the clips I already had, getting approval from Joe for each one.

It surprised me how much feedback and “Oh, this would be cool!” Joe was giving me. He liked this more than I thought he would.

We ate dinner just shortly after that, and the rest of the afternoon was slow, as it usually was.

Tyson and Miles went to bed earlier than usual, so Joe and I spent the majority of the evening watching space documentaries that Joe had been wanting to watch.

The last video of the day routine vlog was of the TV in front of us, Joe’s hand on my bump in view, as well as our legs tangled together.

I never truly appreciated the little things in my everyday life till they were pointed out in a video, like how Tyson always looks at Joe for approval before doing something or how Miles's eyes crinkle up when he smiles, just like his daddy’s.

Watching back at the completed TikTok while tucked into my handsome husband’s side as he rubbed over my baby bump and drew little shapes on it with his thumb had me thinking something I seem to always find my mind drifting off to. Oh, boy, was I one lucky girl.

————————————————————————-

Authors note: cutie family fluff for Sunday

Request for this fic; thank you anon! 🫶

Hope you enjoyed! 💕

[lisafrankenstan]

As much as I love the relationship between Lisa and the creature, I wanted to think about what it looked like to interpret this movie less literally, and instead, through a lens of someone dissociating and reclaiming their agency through action after severe trauma and alienation.

It’s on the long side, but I’m having fun using my brain again for the first time in ages, so let me know what you think! Totally open to different interpretations; the beauty of art is that it isn’t finished until we witness it and it can mean different things to everyone.

Spoilers under the cut (I’m learning how to use this site, slowly!)

Lisa is introduced to us as quiet, unsure, awkward. Her initial movements while getting ready for the party are even stilted, and in the car she’s very quiet and dreamy-sounding. This is not a person who moves through the world fully in her body. When she talks about not wanting anyone to be forgotten, she’s clearly talking about herself and her mother, because the current familial situation was rushed, even when described by Taffy, its most avid proponent.

Her interactions at the party are negative - Tamara embarrasses her in front of Michael and then drugs her, Doug acts protective but then assaults her *as she talks about her dead mother,* sending her into a horrific trip.

Directly after she stumbles through the graveyard to the headstone and said she wishes she was with Creature, the lightning strike happens — right as she breaks the mirror, fracturing her consciousness.

The dream sequence shows gum, sticking dream!Lisa in her silent film form (selective mutism) to a stone shaped like a person - impenetrable and impossible to kill because he’s already dead.

When the Creature appears, he’s been buried, he’s rotted and falling apart. The song from the dream (Strange by Galaxie 500) plays as she speaks with him against her better judgment. She’s externalized everything about herself that feels damaged and unlovable -the literal scars and decay, the silence, and the violence. He hands her mom’s rosary back to her - indicating his connection to her trauma.

She remarks on how she hasn’t spoken this much in ages, and immediately starts nurturing him in the way no one nurtures her. The dress-up montage is, albeit a silly send up, an addressing of her loss of identity. She stores him in a closet decorated with a famous silent film still from Trip to the Moon (1902) done in glow-in-the-dark, signifying things she hasn’t explored yet but stays aware of, and she’s still trying to maintain that barrier.

The outfit he chooses for her is dark, powerful, and commanding, unlike her other articles.

Janet’s outburst and threat signify a paradigm shift from her perceiving herself as alienated to seeing herself as predated.

She appears shocked at Janet’s death, but embraces it fully after being soothed for a moment. Each death opens her up more - expressively AND emotionally. She dances with the creature made whole, and that’s the first time we hear her laugh open-throated. She’s fully chosen to stop hating herself and place the blame externally, shown when she justifies the events to Creature and the talk after the ‘massage.’

Her attitude shifts, adopting a braggadocio and her hair becomes more and more uncontrolled with her ego, and flowier, darker fabrics are used until the marriage/love scene with Creature - as they are made one, she is in a white shift and made pure by her imminent death.

[thepixelelf]

For your idol + au thing! (If you're still accepting/looking) mirror verse where you wakeup in a parallel universe and somehow your archenemy seungcheol is in love with you in this world and you're not sure if this is all just an elaborate prank

wc: 1.8k

warnings: attempted assassinations, knives/swords, choking (not the kink like actually an attack bro)

notes: sorry-- I didn't incorporate the elaborate prank part at all but I hope you enjoy!!

[in another life] As your hand guides you through the unlit servant's hallway of the palace, brushing over the paper walls, you breathe as shallowly as your lungs allow. You cannot afford error— not tonight.

Whoever brings Prince Jeonghan's head to your master first will be named his true heir. The next generation's Moonlight Assassin. Whoever completes this final task for him will be left with his overwhelming wealth...along with his immeasurable debt of sin.

Despite the caveat, you simply must be faster than Choi Seungcheol. You understand that he's been training under the master since he was young, and he surely deserves the title of Moonlight Assassin over you, but while you know he wants it, you need it.

Your sister is dying.

Racked by terrible bouts of fever and haunted nightly by ominous visions, she is now too exhausted to even leave her bed. She's already lost her sight. The physician said her hearing would be next, and not long after that, her life.

You haven't told Seungcheol any of this, lest he use your one weakness against you, but there was a moment a year ago when you told him you didn't mean to steal his glory.

"I need the money," you'd said. "It isn't about the title for me."

You thought perhaps he'd take some pity on you then, but it only made him despise you more. He hated that you'd shown up from almost nowhere and somehow charmed the master into taking you in as an apprentice — hated you even more when you seemed to know enough about poisons to impress the master when he'd worked for years to do the same.

For a brief moment, you considered telling Seungcheol your true plan. You only wanted enough money to help your sister; likely a modicum of the master's wealth could cover it. All you needed was that much, and then you'd renounce yourself and cede the Moonlight Assassin title to Seungcheol voluntarily.

But you doubted the master would be happy to hear of your intentions, and you didn't trust Seungcheol enough to stay mum. He'd probably tattle just to get you disqualified before the task even began.

In the end, you kept quiet and let Choi Seungcheol despise you. It was easy when you let yourself despise him back.

His ego was appalling, really, and you truly hated that smug smirk of his whenever he bested you in melee training.

Upon reaching the bend you know is nearest to the honeymoon quarters, you hold in a chuckle. Seungcheol won't be able to smirk now— you'll have the Prince's head before the sun rises. And you'll do it without waking up his new bride, too.

A hand wraps around your throat. Another over your mouth.

Despite your surprise, you make not a sound, knowing just one shift too loud will ruin everything. Only a moment and a half of struggling goes by before the next sound you keep inside yourself is a groan. You know these hands. They've held you down and bruised you enough times for you to remember the shape of them imprinted into your flesh.

"Fool," he whispers in your ear, the sound harsh and demeaning. "You're so slow. I've been waiting for you for hours."

Using both hands, you tear his palm from your mouth, though you have a feeling he is the one who lets you do so. You keep your voice to a low hiss. "You've been here for— why wait for me? You could've killed him by now."

Seungcheol huffs, the quiet version of a haughty scoff. "I could kill a measly prince any day. Tonight is about beating you." He tightens the hand he has around your neck. "I'll enjoy putting you in your place."

"You braggadocios, bull-headed prick—" The insults don't flow from your lips, they come out choking. Your head starts to feel light. "You parading, pathetic narcissist—

Another huff. "If there is one thing I'll miss, it will be your colourful mouth."

Your eyes flutter, eyelids growing heavy. There is not enough air for you to say anything more.

"Goodnight," Seungcheol whispers, his smiling curving against the shell of your ear. "You'll see me well won when you wake."

The last thing you feel is him lowering you softly to the floor, his hand under your head— if only to make less noise than dropping your slack body like a sack of rice.

=

Your first instinct when your consciousness returns is to keep your eyes shut. There is an arm over your waist, and you are lying on your side atop something soft.

Heaven's threads— have you already been jailed? Is some prisoner using you for warmth?

But no, the softness under you feels too fine on your skin. The arm around you feels...tender. Loving. An embrace.

For a moment, you fall into an illusion of time gone backward. You picture yourself and your sister in the small home of your childhood, in the tiny bed you shared before her sickness took over.

This arm is not hers, though. It is much too thick, and — you slowly shift your hand to find the stranger's fingers that graze over your stomach — strong. A hand belonging to someone who developed this strength for years, who...

You freeze.

A hand that was just around your throat. You would recognize it anywhere.

Whipping around, you shove Seungcheol's shoulder so he lays flat, and you straddle his legs to keep them from moving. The knife you keep strapped to your leg is still there, despite everything else feeling so foreign. You hold his dominant arm down with one hand and bring your knife to his neck with the other.

You're shaking.

Slowly, groggily, Seungcheol opens his eyes. You expect him to break free and strike you back — at least try — but his eyes just widen.

"Love," he whispers. "What are you doing?"

"What are you doing?" you interrogate, head swimming. "Where are we? Why am I— why are we—"

His thick brows furrow. "Are you alright?" He doesn't seem to fear the knife at his throat. Doesn't seem to fear you, or the way you've started to struggle against your own breath. "Love, calm down." His hand reaches to push the knife away from his neck, and with his soothing tone of voice, you let him. He sits up and brushes the back of his fingers over your cheek. Gently, he squeezes your hand. "It's alright. You're safe here. I'm with you."

As soon as your breathing evens, you come back to yourself. You smack his hand away from your face. "What the hell has gotten into you? This looks like..." You turn left and right, taking in the room around you lit only by a sparse few candles. "...the palace. What happened? Where is the prince?"

Seungcheol pouts. You didn't know his lips could do that. He presses the back of his hand to your forehead, but you slap it away again. "Are you feeling feverish? Dizzy?"

"I'm confused. Why are you acting so strange?"

"Love--"

"That!" you exclaim. "That word-- 'love'. You keep saying it. I don't understand."

He squeezes your hand again, and for some reason, you don't pull away. "I thought you liked that one... You never liked honey, or blossom, or dewdrop--"

You scowl and shove his shoulder, which he only smiles and laughs at. The smile throws you off -- it isn't the smug, irritating one you are accustomed to -- it's wide and bright and warm. He cups your cheek, his smile softening but not going away.

"Love, I think you're tired. Let's go back to sleep."

"Let's?"

Seungcheol chuckles. "You must be exhausted after today. 'Where is the prince'? I'm right here, love."

For a few moments, you simply stare at him. This man, Choi Seungcheol, who once had to be ordered by the master to stop sparring, otherwise he'd break both of your legs -- this man is cradling your face like treasure, and claiming...

"Hah!" you can't help the disbelief that escapes your lips. "You, Seungcheol? A prince? What else are you going to tell me-- that I'm your starry-eyed marrier?"

He tilts his head. "I wouldn't say starry-eyed," he teases, but then his brow furrows again, and he studies your eyes. "You're truly starting to worry me. Should I call for the physician?" His eyes seem to finally adjust to the darkness of the room, and he curiously takes in the clothes you're wearing, the same ones he caught you in outside Prince Jeonghan's honeymoon quarters. "When did you change?" he asks, then lets his gaze dart over to the knife you'd abandoned on the other side of the bed. "And where did you find that?"

"You... you're actually the prince?"

Seungcheol wraps an arm around you, and the protectiveness in his eyes makes you take a sharp inhale. "Something is wrong. I'll call for the--"

"Shh!"

At the slightest sound of shuffling past the thin paper walls, you tackle Seungcheol down to the bed and cover his mouth with your palm. This is starting to feel familiar in a strange, mirror-like way.

You meet Seungcheol's eyes and whisper as quietly as possible. "You're the prince."

Despite his obvious confusion, he nods.

"And we were married yesterday?"

He nods again.

"Heaven's threads," you curse, then turn your head towards the noise outside. When you hold your breath, you're sure you hear the sounds of a quiet, restrained struggle, followed by a body being lowered to the floor.

Seungcheol pries your hand from his mouth. "Love, what's--?"

The door slides open, and a masked figure freezes in the opening, eyes wide as he registers that you're both awake. Still, his surprise doesn't last long. He pulls out his weapon, a short sword you recognize as Seungcheol's -- your Seungcheol, not the prince still holding you in his arms -- and moves so quickly you hardly have time to react.

Though Seungcheol attempts to pull you tighter into him and turn so he will take the brunt of the attack, you are just fast enough to slip from his hold. You grab your knife and send a kick straight into the intruder's chest. He falls to floor. Grabbing his wrist, you slam it against the wood and kick the sword he lets go of as far across the room as possible.

In the frenzy, you rip down the piece of cloth covering the lower half of his face, out of breath as you realize, "Prince Jeonghan?"

The man growls, but the sharp edge of your knife kissing his neck is enough to keep him still. "Who--"

You don't allow him to finish his sentence. Raising your hand, you slam the hilt of your knife into his temple, and he falls limp, eyes rolling back.

The room falls back into silence, left only with your heavy breathing and -- you look over at Seungcheol -- his, too. Through the open door, you spot the feet of whomever has taken your spot in this strange, backwards world.

"Love," Seungcheol says in a breathless exhale. "That..."

You place your hands on the floor and push yourself to your feet. Seungcheol meets you between the bed and the unconscious assassin on the floor. He wraps his arms around you.

"That was strangely the most beautiful thing I've ever--"

His words choke to a stop when he feels you press the tip of the knife into the back of his neck.

"Love," you say, voice shaking. "Take me to my sister."

[desertskiespodcast]

There’s a friend I talk to every two weeks. Been over six years since he suggested it, and it’s now one of the only regular parts of my life. An hour long zoom call together from opposite sides of the country (I finally get to see him when our family goes to New York this Fall.

I…have some abandonment issues. Because of reasons. Reasons I won’t share here.

About one year after we started meeting, we said our goodbye at the end of the call as we always do, and he said “Before you go. I want you to know something. I’m loyal. I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to worry that I’m going to stop being your friend.”

And I chuckled uncomfortably. Holy shit. Why did he say that? How did he know that was a fear of mine? I felt too seen. I became instantly uncomfortable. I don’t trust people. I’ve been burned before.

And I guess he picked up on that because he said, “I’m serious. I don’t ever want you to have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”

And I said okay. And then I said thank you. And we ended the call.

I’m very very hard on myself. Self-deprecating to an uncomfortable degree. And then braggadocios because I crave external validation.

I always expect to be hurt by someone. Always. I wish I could say I was intensely loyal. I’m not. I got survival instincts and they make me hide away when someone tries to hurt me.

It’s been five years since then. He hasn’t missed a call. He’s never tried to hurt me. Not once.

I don’t know that I’d ever have written a show about friends who were intensely loyal to each other if he’d never said that to me. If he’d never backed it up with his actions and shown me it was something that was actually possible.

Some of you are loyal friends.

Thank you.

Those who don’t have that in their lives need it.

And maybe you have a friend you think may worry about that, a friend who’s always unreasonably hard on themselves. You know they’re on edge. Ready to go MIA at the first sign of danger. You might laugh it off. You love them. They’re lovable. How could they not know that?

Please consider having an awkward conversation in which you tell them that you’re not going anywhere.

They may chuckle uncomfortably. They may not reciprocate. It doesn’t matter. You’re gonna show them. It may take a while. But you’re gonna show them.

And they’re going to think about it every time they feel that they’re not worth sticking around for, which is every goddamn day for the rest of their lives. That’s what we do.

But, my friend? He’s not going anywhere. He told me that.

I’m really glad he told me that.

I needed that.

[ingravinoveritas]

Long time reader/lurker, first time writer. Have you seen the article Michael wrote for the mirror published on 15/8/2024? it won’t let me link it here, but it’s titled “Theatre changed my life“ and it’s a wonderful piece - I felt very sad to hear him speak of his father’s struggle with Alzheimer’s, but it always warms my heart to see all the good he’s doing with his charity work. It reminded me of hearing him speak so passionately about his charitable works on the Table Manners podcast

anyway- thanks for all you do in the fandom- I always enjoy your thoughtful and (sometimes racy) posts!

Hi there! Oh, it's so lovely to hear from a longtime reader/lurker. I appreciate you writing in! I did indeed see the article Michael wrote for The Mirror this past week. I'll post the link below, for folks who haven't gotten a chance to see it:

I didn't know that Michael's dad has Alzheimer's, and was so saddened to read about this and to imagine the pain his family must be feeling. One of the things that made me first fall in love with Michael is that he is such a brilliant storyteller, but in particular when he talks about people he really loves. He brings those people so completely to life because he wants you to know who they are. Meyrick has always seemed like such an almost larger-than-life character, and it felt like we knew him, in a way, from Michael's stories--especially the ones about his work as a Jack Nicholson lookalike. So it breaks my heart to know that Michael is having to see the threads of who his father is slowly slipping away.

I agree with you as well that it was lovely to read about Michael talking about his charity work. None of it felt braggadocios in the slightest--rather, it seemed like it was Michael saying, "I've done all these things, but there is still so much more to do, so many more people who need help." It seems like he doesn't even necessarily think of it as "charity work," but as essential efforts to create change. Things that should already be happening, but that for one reason or another aren't.

Michael never seems content, in that way, to rest on his laurels, and that may be why he is always keeping himself busy with film work, charity work, and so on. I love as well that he started Mab Gwalia to fund endeavors that he himself is unable to personally helm, but still supports and champions (ASD Rainbows and A Writing Chance are particularly close to my heart as a writer who also happens to be an autistic woman). I just hope he isn't overextending himself by trying to do too much, especially after spending the first half of this year playing Nye Bevan, which was so physically and mentally demanding on its own.

I also wanted to thank you for the kind words you said at the close of your message. There are times where it's difficult for me to tell what sort of presence I have in the fandom, or if I'm just shouting into the void (though I suppose we all are, in a way). So I am very glad to know that you are enjoying my posts (even if I do tend to overthink everything). My heartfelt gratitude to you for writing in! x

[lxvvie]

Being in a relationship with Fulgrim would consist of:

How did you two begin? Fulgrim called dibs on you and that was that. He put on the charm in doing so.

Having a hate-hate love-hate relationship with the Emperor's Children. Depending on the person in question, the issue can be quite superficial.

Your arguments or conversations also being somewhat superficial or... surprisingly philosophical depending on the topic.

Adopting some of Fulgrim's... Fulgrimness. Much to your chagrin. At times. You think.

Being pampered, the likes of which you've probably never been before to the point that it's THISCLOSE to becoming a gilded cage.

Fulgrim insisting on introducing you to much more... palatable forms of the arts than what you're used to.

Additionally, Fulgrim getting rid of your old wardrobe and replacing it with clothes "deserving of one of the Emperor's own".

Being his muse. You've lost count of the number of times you've had to pose for him as he painted or sketched you.

Primping sessions. That's it.

Gossip sessions. That's also it.

Remember the gilded cage mention? Fulgrim for all his braggadocio is rather possessive protective of you.

Fulgrim... not introducing you to all of his brothers. Sure, he may talk about them ever so often but the only one you've truly gotten acquainted with was Ferrus Manus and even that meeting didn't last long.

Him absolutely refusing to put you even a planet's distance to Konrad Curze.

Having the distinction of being one of the few of the Primarch's consorts to even be in the vicinity of the Emperor.