#but my rewatch is helping me brainstorm

[martyirize-moved]

against my better judgment i am gonna make a single non sideblog for book haha

#out. #just need to think up a url i like #i dont love the one on the sideblog #but my rewatch is helping me brainstorm

[trainingdummyrabbit]

anyway the minute i figure out how to talk abt th floor of religions realization i swear. to god.

like. gripping your shoulders. how her dialogue starts off mournful and confused before slowly sliding into that sweeping whitenight dialogue. how her voice and phrasing completely changes, how She becomes that savior rather than the one who desires saving.

is that you? is this Him? is this some crude dance of the two, some odd reflection of a self you wish to have? she who wanted guidance becoming the one to guide them to some sort of freedom. some sort of Paradise.

and its second phase as her voice returns to her; slowly gaining clarity back; but that confusion and trepidation still stands. whitenights dialogue persists; but more stilted. seeing through like the sky through the canopy. like a mantra repeated over and over, but slowly its foundation crumbles.

and even before then, even in its setup cutscene, there was something so uniquely lucid about the way she spoke. something that felt less like a dam breaking and more like a slow haze. less of a challenge, and more of this sinking acceptance. this simple, honest, "I'm Afraid."

and the overarching theme of wanting someone to be there; wanting someone to tell her where to go in that blinding darkness-- hand in hand with whitenight and how Idealized it is; for lack of a better term. how its presence overwhelms her own; if just for a moment.

could it be a reflection of who she deeply wishes to be? or who she wishes she had? someone who Knew; someone who would Protect; Guide. how she wanted desperately to free those around her despite her guarding that desire deeply.

a hand to hold, someone to hold hers.

this perfect, discordant little tangle tied neatly end-to-end. to belong, to keep. to follow, to lead. the strings were always in her hands-- or maybe they were simply tied around her fingers from the beginning. a resounding echo circling back around to the same thought. So whose will is it, anyway? And which truth is scarier?

#(<- this was almost all in the tags.) #(<- ADDITIONALLY THIS IS JUST BRAINSTORMING im batting at the threads like a cat im still chewing on it) #in conclusion: blink twice if u need help girlie #piktalk #projmoon #this was SUPPOSED to be just spitballing but i went back and rewatched the cutscene ANYWAY and ARUGHHGGG #THIS IS ALMOST... WHAT I WANT TO SAY.... ALMOST..... but it needs to be out of my HEAD. #when i do go back and cutscene dive this is going to hit me Just as hard and maybe even harder. aughhgghhh... amngelaaaaa....

[saltynsassy31]

Oh my god it is actually staring to hurt how little there is for greyghost 😭😭😭

Ao3 has over 200 fics of them, I read almost all of them already (some twice) except the ones I can't physically stomach, I went to fanfic.net cuz I thought "Hey, that place existed before Ao3, should be more, right?"

WRONG!

Seems like Greyghost is a recent phenomenon or something cuz fanfic net had only 33 fanfics in total, most actually being recently and already reuploaded to Ao3 and I've already read them too

Unless I fucked something up in the filters cuz fanfic still kinda trips me out a little gkdksja

I so wish this ship had more attention and love tbh 😔 and I barely got time in my hands to contribute, I wrote like one fic and that's it, I gotta revisit my DP lore cuz man some thing I do not remember happening gkskska

#is this me not so subtly trying to ask more fics for them? #maybe #actually #guys if youre reading the tags drop some greyghost prompts in my ask box #for fics or art #and I'll share them! #anything greyghost just drop it and I'll share them and call attention to it and maybe give inspo to people #hell! this is just an excuse for me to be updated on greyghost lore quicker than having to rewatch the whole show 🥲👍 #which btw if any of yall willing to info dump about the two and every little detail that i could potentially use for future fics #feel free to cuz itll make me be able to get out fics of them SO MUCH FASTER I BEG! #i just need people to brainstorm its hard to do that alone and nunna the people i regularly talk to are into is as i am 😔😔😔 #THIS IS A PLEA AND CRY FOR HELP PLS PLS PLS #danny phantom #danny fenton #valerie gray #greyghost

[perseephoneee]

rest your eyes [castiel x reader]

synopsis: you can't sleep so castiel helps you

a/n: i am sick with covid and have been rewatching supernatural with my boo. castiel was literally my second crush ever, and i missed him so much, so i decided to write something (based on the fact i'm an insomniac who would totally sleep on an angel if offered)

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

It was supposed to go: hunting a monster in the woods and returning to some dingy motel that Dean found at the end of the day. Instead, the chase led you and the rest of the squad so deep into the woods that it was wiser to set up camp than try and trek back to civilization. The camp included a rock outcropping to protect from the weather, a shitty fire, and a lack of comfortable sleeping arrangements. Sam and Dean were used to sleeping on almost anything so they could pass out immediately. You, on the other hand, had insomnia sleeping in a regular bed and knew you were going to struggle to fall asleep with nothing more than the moss covering the ground. 

Castiel didn’t sleep, so he was keeping watch. You had your jacket balled up as a pillow under your head, and instead of closing your eyes and trying to encourage rest in your body, you were staring at Cas through thick lashes. He looked up at the sky, a serene expression on his face like he was thinking about what each star meant. The light from the fire flickered across his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose, even his cupid’s bow. Sometimes, you were struck by just how beautiful he was, like some Greek artists, the idea of the perfect man, sculpted to perfection and thrown at your feet for just you to enjoy. You wondered how you ended up so lucky to be blessed with his presence. 

“Why do humans enjoy looking at the stars?” Castiel asks you in a soft voice to not rouse Sam and Dean. You should’ve guessed that he would notice that you were awake.

“I think…it’s nice to think about things far away from your own life,” you hum, giving up on your rock bed and sitting up, brushing leaves and other debris out of your hair. Cas looks at you, the blue in his eyes a shifting kaleidoscope from the dancing lights around you. “And the concept of stars is beautiful,” you sighed, curling your legs up and under. Cas tilted his head at that, brows slightly furrowed. It was your favorite expression on him. 

“Stars are just clouds of gas and light,” Castiel answers. 

“But they’ve traveled thousands of light years to reach us, even if they don’t realize it,” you smile, your eyes tracing the path of various constellations. You can feel Cas’ gaze, but don’t dare look over. Looking into Cas’ eyes is falling headfirst into an abyss you didn’t prepare for. 

“I like that,” Castiel exclaims, a hint of a smile on his lips. “That’s a…human way of looking at it.”

“I am human,” you chuckle.

“Yes, you are,” he resumes, staring at the stars. It’s silent again; the only sound is the crackling of the fire and your breaths. Sometimes, the quiet is interrupted by Sam’s snoring, but you don’t mind. Your boys deserve the rest. 

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Castiel inquires.

“It’s hard for me to sleep, especially out here,” you say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Castiel looks troubled by that statement like he is personally responsible for your ability to sleep. “When I was little, sometimes my Mom would put me in the car and drive me around in circles, singing or telling stories until I passed out.” You remember fondly, smiling a little to yourself. “I don’t think the ground is as comfortable as a car seat, though.”

“Would you like me to tell you a story?” Castiel asks. “If you need a pillow…you can use me.” He looks slightly uncomfortable, and the tips of his ears turn red, making you grin. He never fails to be adorable when he wants to be, and you know he’s offering out of the goodness of his heart. Still, the ID part of your brain is brainstorming all the ways he could profess his love for you, something that you stamp down as you shuffle over to him. He leans his back against one of the rock walls, stretching his legs out. He had already removed his trench coat, offering it to you as a blanket. It was large enough to swallow you and smelled precisely like Castiel in a way you wanted to remember for the rest of your life. You took your makeshift pillow and set it on his lap, laying your head there and curling up under his arm, which he hesitantly rested on your shoulder. You knew you had to coax your ever-beating heart to calm down if you were ever going to sleep, but it was hard when you were lying on the lap of an angel you had a crush on. Still, Castiel was a gentleman who didn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable. 

“What’s your story?” you ask, voice small as you close your eyes and relax your body. 

“Early before humans won the race for my Father’s next creation, there was a pool going on for what Earth’s next great invention would be…”

Castiel’s voice, in its low timbre, started to lull you to sleep as you listened to his story. You liked listening to him talk, and he occasionally added funny anecdotes that would make you smile. You started tuning out of the story, instead focusing on the warmth from his lap, the smell of the open air and him, and especially how his fingers had started to absentmindedly stroke shapes on your arm. Eventually, you were pulled into a deep sleep, lingering in that space where you were only slightly conscious but not awake. That space was the only way you could feel Castiel petting your hair, brushing his fingers down your scalp to your neck and back to your shoulder. Even in your dreams that night, you swear you could feel his weight everywhere. 

You slept peacefully, without interruption, the whole night. Until morning, when the sound of voices roused you from your slumber.

“...did you get a girl in your lap?” Dean asked, sounding incredulous. 

“She is not in my lap. She is lying on half of my lap,” Castiel answered, ever the stickler for exact estimates. You could hear Dean’s groan and sarcastic retort. 

“Can you shut up? I’m trying to sleep?” you mumbled, screwing your eyes shut and pushing your face more profoundly into your pillow-jacket-thing. 

“C’mon, Sleeping Beauty, time to go hunting,” Dean called out. You let out a curse word, relaxing as you felt Castiel pat your head reassuringly. 

“You are much more Sleeping Beauty than I am,” you responded, finally opening your eyes to the daylight but not making a move to get up. Eventually, you realized you’d have to move, so you begrudgingly sat up, cracking your neck as you did so. “Thanks for the story, Cas,” you said, averting eye contact with the angel to avoid him seeing the light flush on your cheeks. You gave him back his coat, and he kindly removed a twig that got stuck in your sweater. 

“Did you sleep alright?” he inquired. You thought back to it and realized that for the first time in years, you slept through the whole night. 

“Yeah, I… slept well.” 

With that, Castiel smiled and helped you up. You were more alert on a hunt than you had been in a long time, all because a particular angel helped you achieve the best sleep of your life.

#castiel #castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel x y/n #supernatural #spn #supernatural imagine #spn imagine #misha collins #my writing

[wintaerbaer]

things we don’t say: part 5 (kth)

banner credit: @itaeewon

summary: Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

pairing: Taehyung x Reader (with some VERY brief Seokjin x Reader and Yoongi x Reader)

rating: 18+

genres: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slow burn, angst, fluff, eventual smut

word count: 12.1k

chapter warnings: jeon jungkook, seventeen is here because i needed fill-ins (also they’re not singers but their music still canonically exists in-universe so good luck figuring that one out), a wedding!, tae is WHIPPED, the infamous butt debate, jealousy (plural), jimin has terrible timing, alcohol consumption ft. a drinking game, a mega cliffhanger i’m so sorry

a/n: while not required, i highly recommend reading the prequel drabble if you haven’t yet as it has some heavy relevance to this part and the next! special thanks to @btsborahaee and @jeonwiixard for beta-ing this chapter and letting me gush and brainstorm in their inboxes on the regular <3 also, shout outs to @animeniacss and @taegularities for sprinting with me all the time (and a forehead kiss to rid for coming up with the idea for the bathroom scene, mwah)!

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Read on ao3

"After today, I never want to see a ribbon ever again."

Jimin fumbles his fingers over the thin string, throwing his hands up in a huff when the slippery material resists his efforts to tie it. With Hoseok and Sunny's wedding only two weeks away, you'd offered to help out with some of the prep work, and Taehyung suggested hosting a mini prep party at your apartment as part of his efforts to make new memories since you'd moved back. True to his word, he’s been at your place nearly every day the past few weeks, cooking dinner with you and rewatching your favorite shows from high school.

You have to admit it’s been pleasantly domestic.

"It's not that bad," you say, finishing off your own ribbon around one of the tiny boxes of chocolate which will be distributed to each of the two-hundred-plus guests as a wedding favor.

"No, I'm serious. I don't even want to tie my shoes anymore. I'm a Crocs guy now."

"I've heard girls love sport mode," Taehyung quietly teases. "Is that right, Y/N?"

The flirtatiousness of his tone startles you, and your eyes snap up to meet his where he sits across from you at the dining room table. He's smiling one of those mischievous grins that makes your stomach churn, belly lurching when he stuns you with a wink before turning back to his own tiny box.

What the fu—

"If any of you show up to my wedding in Crocs, I'm kicking you out," Sunny grumbles.

Hoseok smacks his lips as he ties off a ribbon. "Does that also go for—"

"You as well, yes."

Your group settles into a momentary silence at her declaration—not a sound besides the ripple of ribbon and paper. At least until—

“I got laid wearing Crocs once.”

The entire table groans in unison, and you toss a bit of balled up wrapping paper at Jungkook's chest that bounces pathetically to the floor as Jimin boos. “No one cares about your sexcapades, Kook.”

“What, it was impressive!” he argues. “Just be thankful I'm not bringing any of them to the wedding.”

“I almost wish you were,” Hoseok grumbles. “You'd better not be picking up anyone inappropriate that night. Sisters, cousins, aunts—”

“That was one time!”

“—and anyone else even remotely close to family are off limits.”

Jungkook is quiet for a long moment, pouting to himself, before he says, “Moms?”

The table boos again, more bits of wrapping paper flying his way.

“I'm kidding! Kidding!”

“Actually, Y/N,” Sunny murmurs, leaning towards you. “I hate to bring it up, but are you planning on bringing anyone else in Jace’s place?” Her expression is one of compassionate regret, with pursed lips and a furrowed brow, but the question still hits you low in your chest, knocking the wind out of you.

“I feel terrible asking,” she continues, “but one of my friends from high school originally declined a plus-one, and now she’s asking if there’s any way we can squeeze in this guy she met two weeks ago, and normally I’d tell her no, there’s no way I can change the head count two weeks out and who is this guy anyway, but then I figured that we do technically have an extra spot so we could fit him in, but I’d definitely give you the option to bring someone else first if you wa—“

“It’s fine,” you say, trying to ignore the way everyone else around the table is now looking on in sympathy. “I have no one else to bring. Let her guy come.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” It feels like you’re dying inside, but you try to look unbothered, especially since you can feel Taehyung’s eyes on you. “I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” Sunny quietly agrees, just as Hoseok suddenly jumps in at her side.

“You know, Tae isn’t bringing anyone to the wedding either,” he says, looking between the two of you. “Why don’t you just go together?”

“I’m also going alo—“ There’s a thump under the table and Jungkook immediately shuts his mouth.

You glance at Taehyung, who’s looking back at you with a dip in his eyebrows and parted lips. It was probably a given that you would spend time at the wedding hanging out already, but wouldn’t going together mean something else entirely? A promise of dancing and proximity and a label the two of you have never shared?

Perhaps that’s the reason why he’s staring at you with a touch of discomfort. Your own skin prickles at the thought, and so you scratch away the itch at your chin and deflect.

“That’s okay. We don’t have to.” Then you stand from the table sharply, hitting your limits with this conversation. “I’ll be right back.”

You head for the bathroom, not even needing to do anything in there, but sure that you can busy yourself for a few minutes to get your emotions under control away from your friends. But as you’re about to swing the door shut behind you, a large hand reaches out to stop it with a thud, and Taehyung quickly slips in before closing the door himself.

“Tae, what are you—“

“Come with me.”

You’re practically chest-to-chest, and if not for the fact that you’ve stopped breathing with his question, you’d probably be pressed up against him in the tight space.

“What?”

He licks his lips, pulls in air through his nose like he’s bracing himself.

“Come to the wedding with me.”

The room is heavy with silence as his request fully sinks in, the air between you thick and hot as you try to get some of it into your lungs. It’s hard, though, to develop a coherent thought with him standing so close—his scent engulfing you and dark, searching eyes fixated on your expression.

“I don’t kno—“ you begin, but he’s quick to cut you off.

“Why not? Like Hobi said, neither of us is bringing anyone already.” His fingers brush yours—an apology for mentioning it again. “So why not go together and…not be as alone.”

You shift on your feet. “But you do know that you don’t have to do this. I’m fine without a plus one. There’s no shame in it for me.”

“Y/N,” he huffs. “You know that I like being around you, right?” He nudges gently against the underside of your chin, making you look at him directly. “I wouldn’t have stuck around this long if I didn’t.”

You’re still skeptical—nervous about the implications of what this would look like, especially when you just got out of a relationship. To you, it feels very much like teasing a boundary. But Taehyung is all nerves in front of you, gaze darting up-and-down your face and a tiny pull at the corner of his mouth telling you that he’s chewing on his lip.

And of course, because it’s him, you cave.

“Okay.”

He beams and, not for the first time, you feel your chest lighten at the sight of his boxy smile. “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” you say, smiling back.

“Okay.” Almost impossibly, his grin gets even wider, and you can see the wheels begin to turn in his head. “Do you have a dress picked out yet? What color is it? I can match you.”

It takes you aback. You wouldn’t have even thought about that. “Emerald green.”

“Emerald green,” he repeats, something registering behind his eyes, and he licks his lips again. “Okay. Great.”

He shifts like he's getting ready to leave, but you catch his fingers to reel him back. And you hate to put it out there, hate to even bring it up, but after everything you’ve been through, you need the clarity.

“And Tae,” you say, “this isn’t a date, right?”

He gives a slow blink, a wave of unknown emotion rippling from forehead to chin before he smiles gently at you, eyes softening at the corners. “Of course not.”

You nod. “Okay.” And a small part of you feels…disappointed?

But there's no time to dwell on it as he exits the bathroom, and you follow him out in spite of doing exactly zero bathroom things. You return to the dining room together, your friends clearly trying to look nonchalant as they diligently work on their party favors but being way too quiet to not have been trying to eavesdrop on your conversation.

“Sunny,” Taehyung says as you take your seats, looking positively brighter. “Just make sure we're sitting next to each other, yeah?”

She snorts. “As if you were anywhere else to begin with.”

Blue skies stretch endlessly in front of you, wind running through your hair and sunlight filtering in through the sunroof as you and Taehyung make the trip to the lakeside resort where Hoseok and Sunny are to be married. He's the absolute picture of relaxation in the driver's seat, wearing sunglasses and a mindless smile with his fingers wrapped delicately around the steering wheel like vines.

He'd opened the door for you when he picked you up, a seemingly spontaneous gesture that had left you both shy and blushing. But if the afternoon started with a touch of unusual awkwardness between you, the prospect of your “not a date” wedding date making itself known, it has since evaporated in the hot summer air. At this point, you’ve spent the past hour chatting, playing road trip games (Taehyung somehow destroying you in the alphabet game in spite of having to focus on driving), and burning through three boxes of Pepero.

“These are an addiction, I swear,” you say, crunching down on a chocolate-filled stick and clapping your hands in delight. Taehyung’s eyes leave the road for a second as he takes you in and grins.

“Was that the last of it?”

“Oh.” You peer into the box. Empty. “Yeah. Sorry. Did you want it?”

“No, it’s fine. You can have it.”

“I sure hope so since I already swallowed it.”

He laughs, whole face lighting up with it, and you feel something turn over behind your ribcage as if someone’s flipped your heart like a pancake. It makes you think that even though you were supposed to be making this trip with a different person, you’re glad it’s him instead.

My love only amounts to this.

The lyrics ring out through the car, and Taehyung leans forward suddenly, turning up the volume on the stereo.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s your favorite song!” he joyfully says. “I know you like to sing along.”

You stare at him blankly, taken aback because you don’t think you’ve ever mentioned this to him. When did he notice…?

“C’mon, sing with me. Play a song I know and one step. Hold my hands and put my feet in, two steps.”

His sweet baritone sounds out beside you, and you feel a grin break out across your face. You always forget what a joy it is to hear Taehyung sing.

“The person to know all my secrets is you,” you sing, joining along. “So I’m even more thankful.”

“Sometimes when you get tired, and I see you crying with your head down, I don't know what to do. What can I do?”

You’re both belting it out at the top of your lungs by the time it gets to the chorus, and you think the sun has somehow moved inside the car with how bright and warm you feel.

My love only amounts to this. But thank you for staying by my side, my baby.

Your car charges down the road, trailing laughter and joy in its wake, and your chest feels light for the first time in weeks.

Even if my love only amounts to this. I'll be your umbrella in the rain. I'll protect you on all your days.

Jimin, Maya, and Jungkook meet you in the hotel lobby—a marble behemoth with wrought iron staircases and sofas that definitely cost more than your rent—and you all line up to check in, gawking at the elaborate chandelier that hangs above your heads.

“How did they even afford this place?” Jimin wonders.

Maya sucks her teeth. “At this rate? I think they might have mob ties.”

“Feet pics,” Jungkook says simply.

Once everyone has obtained their key cards, you set off to find your rooms. You’re all on the same floor since a certain section was booked specifically for the wedding, but with you having a room with only a single queen-sized bed, you’re down the hall and away from the others who booked doubles.

While Jimin, Maya, and Jungkook break off to get acclimated in their own respective rooms, Taehyung follows you into yours with a touch of melancholy, your luggage slung over his shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re fine here alone?” he asks, setting your bag on the ground. “I can room with you if you’d like. I’m sure Kook wouldn’t mind.”

“There’s only one bed,” you point out, blushing.

Taehyung also goes slightly pink. “Well yeah, but the other week we just…or I can take the couch. Or we can ask Kook to swap rooms?”

“It’s okay,” you say. “I’m alone at the apartment all the time anyway.”

He nods, looking oddly shot down. “Alright. But if you change your mind, just ask.”

“Unlikely,” you tease with a wrinkle of your nose. “You snore.”

He gasps, feigning hurt. “I do not.”

He doesn’t. But you still tilt your head solemnly, pressing your lips together as if preparing to deliver bad news. “You do.”

“Shit,” he sighs before the two of you break down in giggles.

A few hours later, the five of you wind up at the resort’s restaurant for dinner, lamenting the exorbitant prices but enjoying an incredible meal. The night dwindles down as you settle in at the bar, figuring you can have a couple drinks before resting up for tomorrow’s big day. With a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, you have a perfect view of the lake outside and the glow of the sunset spreading out above the trees. It tints the room orange, seeping onto every surface, including Taehyung’s forearms resting atop the bar.

You trace his veins with your eyes, study the way they trail to his hands curled lightly around his low ball glass. Your friends are talking about plans for tomorrow, but you’re not paying much attention; you’re far more interested in trying to figure out when your best friend’s arms started looking like that.

“And don’t worry, Chim. If I have the chance to get lucky, I’ll make sure not to use our room,” Maya says, placing a hand over her heart in pledge. “No locking you out because I’m a good friend.”

But Jungkook has tensed up next to you, and in spite of the cute pout of his lips, the creasing of his forehead suggests that he’s genuinely upset. “Hook-up? You’re going to find a hook-up?”

Maya looks at him incredulously, drink paused halfway to her lips. “Possibly. Aren’t you?”

“I…” His teeth bite into his lip. “It’s a wedding.”

She barks out a devilish laugh. “So? When has that ever stopped you?” A spiteful glare is sent his way that even has you shrinking behind him in secondhand shame. “Since when do you have morals?”

Taehyung’s knee squeezes against yours under the bar—a warning, probably, but your brain momentarily becomes fixated on the weight of it, on how nice it feels to have his warmth pressed against you. It’s not until he taps a finger against your thigh, signaling with his eyes at the sullen man behind you, that you pass on the touch, giving Jungkook’s elbow a gentle nudge in support and encouragement. He takes a quick look at you with sad, vulnerable eyes, and you’re reminded of how flustered he’d been during your conversation a few weeks ago.

“I was actually thinking,” he begins, more serious than you’ve ever seen him, “that maybe we could go together since neither of us have dates.”

Maya snorts, setting her drink down firmly on the countertop. “Why, so you can ditch me halfway through for the first woman that flutters her eyelashes at you? No thanks.”

Jungkook physically recoils like he’s been slapped, the force sending him back so far that he practically winds up in your lap. “You really think I would do that?”

His voice is tiny, hurt dripping from every syllable, and it makes Maya finally look up, face dropping as she seems to realize the wounds she’s inflicted upon him.

Her brows draw together, and she opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by the bartender popping up to ask if anyone needs a refill. By the time he leaves, the moment’s passed, and Jungkook briskly stands up, throwing some money down on the bar.

“I’m done. See you guys tomorrow.” And he strides out towards the hotel lobby.

You hop to your feet, shaking your head at Maya. “That was uncalled for.”

She looks guilty but says nothing, rubbing a finger along the rim of her glass, and you follow Jungkook out, calling his name as he approaches the elevators.

“Jungkook!”

He spins to face you with a frown, thumbs hooked in his pants pockets like he’s trying to look casual, but his eyes betray his discomfort. “What?”

“She didn’t mean that,” you say, slightly breathless from your jog across the lobby. “I know she didn’t.”

“Sure she did. That’s who she is. Always speaks her mind.” He shrugs, shirt rippling over his shoulders. “It’s fine. I don’t care.”

“Don’t you though?” you ask. “You’re not a bad guy, Kook. You deserve simple respect at least.”

“Maybe I don’t.” The elevator dings, and he steps inside, turning back to you with a final sad smile. “Night, Y/N.”

A sense of dread taps into the back of your skull, fear that your original inkling on this relationship was perhaps correct. Though you’ve since warmed up to the idea of Maya and Jungkook as a potential couple, it was this exact tension that you were worried about—their fire and gasoline dynamic harboring implications that could blow up your entire friend group.

Taehyung strolls up next to you as the doors roll shut, sighing as he comes to a stop. “He okay?”

“No, but don’t try telling him that.”

He purses his lips. “I had a quick talk with Maya. Reminded her that just because she’s had bad experiences with guys in the past doesn’t give her the right to take it out on him.”

“Good,” you say. “She probably needed to hear it.”

A nod as he assesses your figure and asks, “Are you coming back to the bar? I already covered your tab.”

“Oh, I’ll pay you back—“

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “You can make it up to me a different time.”

You smirk at him, stepping closer. “How about I roll it into your Christmas present?”

“Deal.”

You let out a soft laugh, and he offers to walk you up, pressing the button to call the elevator back. The two of you chat about nothing in particular as you make your way to the third floor, commenting on the ridiculously patterned carpet in the halls and laughing about the strangely risqué photos that you noticed hanging in the rooms.

When you arrive at your door, you swipe your key card over the sensor, turning the light from red to green and wishing Taehyung goodnight, but he loops his fingers around your wrist to lightly tug you back.

“Y/N.” He curls his bottom lip over his teeth, head dipping towards the ground in a shy smile as he searches for his words. “I’m…really looking forward to tomorrow. It’s going to be fun.”

He’s adorable; he truly is. Seventeen years of affection, and he still finds ways to endear you to him even more, bits of gold from the lamps catching on the browns of his eyes as he stands before you.

“It is,” you say, tongue tied around your own apprehension. He hums and looks like he wants to say more—tangles his fingers in front of him and chews on his lip as he fidgets. But after a moment passes—you still stuck on his eyes—he jerks his chin down in a nod, says goodnight, and leaves you standing at your door in confusion, taking one look back as he swipes his own key card down the hall and disappears into his room.

You enter your own space with your mind whirling, not sure what the hell just happened but also sure that you’re not upset about it. And once you’ve gone through your bedtime routine and settled in for the night, you fall asleep thinking about brown eyes and shy smiles, welcoming the most restful sleep you’ve had in weeks.

You awake to the sound of Maya knocking on your door promptly at 9am with her suitcase in hand, casually making her way to your bed when you let her in and picking up the hotel menu from the side table while you stare at her. "What are you doing?" "We are going to order room service and watch some shitty TV, and then I am going to help you get you ready for your date." "It's not a date," you say on impulse, though you're internally tamping down the involuntary flutter that's tickling your stomach. "If it's anything, it's a guy taking pity on his unexpectedly-single friend." "Pity date then." She says it with a nonchalant wave of her hand and doesn't give you the chance to speak when you open your mouth to protest. "Y/N, please, just give me the chance to make his jaw drop. If there really is nothing there like you say there is, then what's the harm?" The harm, you think to yourself, is the tingling feeling that's been increasing in intensity when you've been around Taehyung recently, warmth flooding your body at just the thought of him. Your brain has been desperately explaining it away, chalking it up to years of familiarity and comfort being stoked by the emotional trauma which (you're quick to remind yourself) you're still working through. No, Y/N, I don’t have feelings for you. It's these thoughts that, in the end, have you acquiescing as Maya lets out a joyful squeal. At the very least, you make your friend happy and get some well-deserved girl bonding time. Really, what's the harm?

The idea has barely finished running through your mind when you’re already beginning to regret it and wondering what the hell you just got yourself into. Maya wheels her entire suitcase to the foot of your bed and pulls out no less than seven bags of make-up, a curling iron, hairspray, four different brushes, and a straightener.

“Are you doing the entire wedding party after this?” you ask incredulously. “Why did you bring so much?”

“Needed to be ready for anything,” she says, organizing her tools into neat rows. “When I’m done with you, every straight man and half the women will be falling at your feet.”

Your face heats, and you subconsciously rub at your arm. “That’s really not necessary.”

“Okay, then just one man.” She raises her arms, fingers arranged into a square through which she peers at you like she’s sizing you up for a photograph. “Hmm, where should we start?”

You and Maya make your way to the resort's event hall a little while before the ceremony is scheduled to begin. Seating doesn't seem to have opened yet as guests mill about the entryway, the buzz of conversation filling the space above your heads, and the two of you pause at the top of the stairs to see if you can spot your friends. "I think Kook's got a purple tie," she says, peering around. "And you know what he's wearing why?" you ask, but she ignores you. "Oh, look, there they are." Maya's goal may have been to get Taehyung's jaw to drop, but you're left stunned when you look over to where he's standing with Jimin and Jungkook, the now-familiar tingle rippling through your veins once again. His black suit is perfectly tailored, accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow waist, emerald green tie wrapped around his neck to match the color of your dress as promised. He's slicked his hair back and away from his eyes so you're able to see how they nervously dart between Jimin and Jungkook, clearly not listening to whatever it is they're enthusiastically saying. Actually, once you look more closely, everything about his body language screams nerves for some reason, his hands moving back and forth to play with the hems of his jacket before smoothing the lapels over and over again. Maya waves, grabbing Jimin's attention, and you watch as he grins at the two of you before leaning in to say something to Taehyung, pointing at where you're standing. Maybe, you think, just maybe you appreciate Maya's plan from this morning after Taehyung glances up at you. His incessantly-moving fingers finally still—halfway through re-adjusting his tie—and his perfect Cupid's-bow-lips pop open, eyes wide as he soaks you in in your floor-length gown. Maya’s worked your hair into loose curls cascading over your shoulders and bare back, and while you convinced her to not go wild with the make-up, she strong-armed you into agreeing to a deep red lipstick that’s only accentuated by the green of your dress. A smug cough comes from your right (clearly Maya's pleased with her work) as you descend the stairs and approach the trio of men. Jimin and Jungkook greet you brightly while Taehyung still looks mildly concussed, continuing to stare at you with his mouth half-open. "Alright there, Tae?" you ask, reaching up to adjust and smooth out his tie, messy from where his hands had frozen on it.

The pads of your fingers are hot where they brush against the hard muscle of his chest, and you try not to read too deeply into the pounding of his heart. Taehyung makes a weird noise akin to what you'd imagine a drowning fish would sound like, and Jungkook gives him a sharp slap on the back, which seems to knock him out of whatever trance he'd fallen into. "Incredible!" he blurts, and you almost want to laugh at the reset-button-like effect Jungkook's smack seems to have on him. He clears his throat, composing himself further. "I, um—you, I mean. You look incredible." You thank him, ignoring the second wave of smugness that comes from Maya's direction, just as the event staff open the doors and begin ushering guests into the hall. Taehyung offers you his arm, and you gladly take it as he guides you to sit alongside your friends.

The wedding hall is as grandiose as the rest of the hotel, with columns ornamenting the sides of the room and a massive flower arch constituting the altar. You all talk as you wait for the ceremony to begin, admiring the decor (the bright bouquets of red, purple, and blue flowers pop against the stark white of the venue) and trying to see if you recognize any of the guests.

“Oh, there’s Sunny’s cousin Chan,” Maya says, peering out over the room. “Remember we met him at that party one time?”

“Didn’t the two of you drunkenly make-out?” you ask.

Jimin frowns. “I thought they hooked up.”

“No, Y/N is right.” She fixes her hair, oblivious to the way Jungkook is now staring at the man in question, hackles raised. “Wouldn’t say no to that happening again; he was good with his hands. Tae, are you alright? You’re looking at Y/N like she’s sprouted four more arms.”

You swivel your head around to see Taehyung next to you, entirely flushed red above the shoulders. He licks his lips as he meets your eyes, blinking furiously like he’s trying to clear his thoughts. “Sorry, I spaced out.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Maya waves a dismissive hand, shuffling her attention to Jimin to ask if he knows about the music choices for the ceremony.

A throat clears on your right. “You do look nice. Really.” Taehyung looks utterly sheepish, his head tilted low as he softly pays you the compliment, and it reminds you of how shy he was last night as well. A butterfly takes flight in your chest, and now you’re the one blushing.

“Thank you. You cleaned up nicely, too,” you reply, and he blinks at you in a way that has you second guessing your words. “Not that you don’t always clean up nicely. And not that you don’t normally look very handsome. Because you do. Look very handsome, I mean. All the time.”

His bashfulness morphs into amusement, lips quirking up in an affectionate smile. “Oh, really?”

Your face heats up even more, mouth opening to respond with you don’t even know what, and you’re grateful when a hush falls over the room, the beginning notes of a wedding march signaling the ceremony’s start.

Hoseok appears first, looking dapper in a full tuxedo and grinning ear-to-ear. He walks down the aisle with long strides like he can’t possibly get to the end fast enough, bouncing on his toes as he settles into his spot.

The officiant is next, followed by Iseul and Seokmin, one of Hoseok’s childhood friends. Hana and Namjoon stroll in arm-in-arm after that, then Yumi and Jiho, and finally, everyone rises to their feet as Sunny appears at the entrance and begins her walk in, gaze finding only her groom.

Just as Sunny reaches the head of the aisle, a teary-eyed Hoseok taking her hands in his, another image, one which had once occupied your mind almost constantly but hadn't plagued you in weeks, takes hold: you and Jace in a similar setting, pledging forever to each other in front of your friends and family.

Maybe you had gotten ahead of yourself—the discovery of the ring box in his desk along with the natural longevity of your relationship sparking your imagination—but in the weeks leading up to your heartbreak, you had allowed your mind to plan—what kind of dress you'd wear, the colors you'd pick out, what you might say in your vows. It seems stupid now, dwelling on a future that's already evaporated into nothingness, but seeing the echoes of your dreams being played out in front of you, it’s like you can feel the sand physically slipping through your fingers.

Right as it starts to become too much, as you feel your chest tighten and heart ache, there's a brush of skin against the side of your hand, and glancing down, you see that Taehyung's reached over to quietly hook his pinky with yours. You turn to face him, but he keeps his eyes directed on the bride and groom, face neutral and unreadable, and you know he's giving you the chance to pull away, no questions asked.

But the gesture has warmth flooding through you, thawing the ice of your previous thoughts, and so you move to slip your hand under his, lacing your fingers and pressing your palms together tightly.

Taehyung looks at you then, a shy smile crinkling his eyes and twisting up the corners of his mouth, and you grin back, the previous ache in your chest replaced with a steady flutter as he begins to skim his thumb back and forth in a gentle caress.

You stay that way for the rest of the ceremony—watching your friends vow eternity to each other, Taehyung's hand tethered with yours.

Classical music drifts from the speakers at the back of the room as you find your seats for the reception. The ballroom is tremendous, with tall, arched ceilings, a gorgeous chandelier, and a wide dance floor that you’re sure will see a ton of action later. With the tables seating eight, you see that you’ve been placed in a grouping of you, Taehyung, Maya, Jimin, Jungkook, and three of Hoseok’s medical school friends, who introduce themselves as Wonwoo, Joshua, and Mingyu.

Thankfully, your group hits it off immediately. Wonwoo is rather reserved, more an observer of those around him than anything, but Taehyung and Jimin quickly strike up a conversation with Joshua about college after the latter mentions having gone to the same school as you, albeit never crossing paths. Maya and Mingyu, meanwhile, immediately fall into their own introductions, talking about how they know Hoseok and Mingyu’s studies to become a doctor.

“If you ever need a headshot or something, let me know,” Maya says, laying a hand on his arm. Across the table, Jungkook's head shoots up. “I do work as a photographer and would be happy to help.”

“Oh, really?” Mingyu makes no move to remove her hand; if anything, he shifts even closer. “What are your rates?”

“For you? Free of charge. Any friend of Hoseok is a friend of mine.” They're in their own little bubble now, Jungkook watching wide-eyed. “Besides, you'd be doing me a favor. With a face like that, you're a photographer's dream. Perfect model.”

Mingyu smirks. “A face like what?”

“Dangerously handsome.”

“HEY, WHAT DO YOU GUYS WANT TO SPECIALIZE IN?”

Jungkook practically screams it, and not only do Maya and Mingyu turn to look at him in bewilderment, but so does the rest of the table and a few guests in the neighboring seats.

Joshua clears his throat awkwardly, eying Jungkook like he might be rabid. “I’m trying for pediatrics.”

“Surgery,” Wonwoo says.

Maya turns towards her new companion. “What about you, Mingyu?”

He leans back in his chair. Gives a light tug on his tie. “I have a residency lined up in obstetrics and gynecology.”

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me—”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung says, cutting him off as he slides his chair back from the table. “Why don’t you help me get a round of drinks?”

“But—“

“C’mon.” He says it gently, like he’s trying to coax a toddler, and rises to his feet, giving you a gentle tap on the shoulder as he goes. “Cosmo?”

“Yes, please,” you say, and he nods, dropping a quick wink your way as Jungkook joins him, grumbling under his breath.

Joshua watches them walk away in the direction of the bar. “Is he always this…”

“Annoying?” Maya scoffs.

“Transparent.” Wonwoo quietly smirks.

A gentle laugh sounds on your left as Jimin hears. “I don’t know that anyone has ever described Jungkook as subtle in his life.”

Maya frowns, Mingyu looking downright perplexed at her side. “I don’t think I quite understand what’s going on,” he begins, but Maya soothes him with another press of her hand to his arm.

“Don’t worry about him. It doesn’t matter,” she says. “Tell me more about your residency.”

The reception passes in a swirl of music and drinks and food—and oh goodness, the food. Plates heaped with calamari, crab legs, and tiny filets wrapped in bacon are placed at the table by wait staff as your group digs in. Even Jungkook is placated, no longer scowling at Maya and Mingyu.

"Ughhh, I am never eating this well again," Jimin groans, stretching back in his chair and giving an exaggerated rub to his belly.

"You'd best get ready to," Taehyung says from your other side. "This isn't even dinner."

"This isn't even dinner?!"

Dinner turns out to be just as delicious and lavish as the appetizers, and it's no surprise that once dancing starts, your friends opt to stay seated for a while longer talking and digesting. As the party climbs to a full swing, Mingyu asks Maya to dance, Jimin and Jungkook start a debate on whether the butt is one body part or two, and Taehyung excuses himself to the restroom.

“It’s one part that’s split!” Jimin loudly exclaims. “The top is connected!”

“Jimin, go home, stand in front of the mirror, and pull your right ass cheek up. See if your left cheek comes up with it, and then get back to me, you absolute clown.”

“Do they do this a lot?” Joshua asks, the two idiots arguing between you.

“At least once a month.” You take a sip of your drink as you look on, bored. “I’m pretty sure this one is a rerun from last Halloween.”

“It’s one,” Wonwoo says, amused.

A flash of green catches your eye, and you look up to see Taehyung standing by the side of the bar, speaking with a woman. She's about your age, you think, and pretty, wearing a low-cut dress that certainly accentuates her chest.

She and Taehyung are talking excitedly, and you can tell he's putting the charm on—eyes bright, signature boxy smile lighting up his face. Nausea simmers in the pit of your stomach, and you force your attention back towards Jimin and Jungkook, trying to focus on whatever nonsense they're debating now.

This isn't a “date-date,” you remind yourself. And Taehyung hasn't had a relationship in a year—not since he was so torn up after Luna. He deserves to meet someone.

You’re spaced out next to your friends, still only halfway listening to them jabber on about butt cheeks, when a slow song starts up over the speakers and, within seconds, a hand is being extended over your shoulder.

You look up to find Taehyung's eyes gazing steadily down at you, a small but confident smile playing on his lips.

"Dance with me?"

And in spite of the unease that had plagued you only moments ago, you don't hesitate to let him wrap up your small hand in his large one and lead you to the dance floor. His palm settles on your lower back to pull you in close, and maybe it’s the proximity or the intoxicating smell of his cologne that weakens your resolve, but you find the words spilling out.

"Did you get her number?"

Taehyung looks at you quizzically, brow furrowing in confusion. "Whose?"

"The woman at the bar."

His face relaxes as he realizes. "Oh, yeah. I did."

"Good." You manage a smile. Why does it feel so hard? "It really is…good you're getting back out there. Are you going to ask her on a date?"

He laughs, mischief in his eyes. "I don't think her fiancé would like that." And now it's your turn to look confused.

"Her fiancé?"

"I met the two of them through Hoseok a couple times so we've chatted. Nice people." He nods his head, and you look over to see the woman now dancing with a man not too far from you. "They just got engaged, and she knows I'm a photographer so she asked if I'd be interested in doing the wedding. I said I'd call her this week to talk about it."

"Oh." You can feel your face flush, but there's no doubting the relief that floods through you. And Taehyung surely notices, grinning down at you in amusement.

"Were you jealous?"

"No!" you say, but perhaps a little too quickly because Taehyung laughs, his fingers applying a gentle pressure to your back to pull you closer.

"I'm here with you," he murmurs matter-of-factly.

You shake your head at him. "It's fine, Tae. If someone catches your eye…like I said, it could be good—"

"I'm here with you," he repeats, more firmly this time. He releases your hand for a moment to tuck a stray curl behind your ear, and you have to look away. You spot Hoseok and Sunny swaying together in the middle of the dance floor, pressed closely together and smiling at each other like they're the only two people in the world. What it must be like to have someone look at you like that, you think, to hold you like you're something precious to be cherished. You had thought Jace made you feel that way, but now, watching your friends gaze at each other so delicately, so in love, you're no longer sure he even came close.

"What are you looking at?" Taehyung's voice rouses you out of your thoughts, and you suddenly notice his hand has drifted a little higher to where the back of your dress dips down low, exposing your bare skin.

Trying to pass off the shiver that involuntarily runs through you as a nod, you gesture at the newly married couple. "They're so good together."

Taehyung follows your line of sight, watching Hoseok lean down to murmur something in Sunny's ear that makes her giggle and press her face into his chest. "They are."

"Can you imagine loving someone like that?" Your voice is a bare whisper as if the words slipped out on their own accord, like a wish you didn't even realize you were making.

Taehyung's fingers splay at your spine, gently tugging you in until your hips are bumping his. Startled, your eyes snap back to him, breath catching in your chest. He's gazing at you intently, but as opposed to the intense fire that you've seen from him at times, there's only a deep warmth to his brown irises that you're not sure you've ever seen before. He looks at you with softness, with both a sense of familiarity and wonder that can only be attributed to your many years of companionship, and you see it all swimming behind his eyes—every day spent together seeking refuge from your families, every stupid childhood fight, every time you comforted each other through the bad days. And before you can deflect, can explain away the question as a rhetorical slip of the tongue, you hear his answer come out on a breath.

"Yes."

There’s a weight to it, the word landing from his lips like a stone into water, and you suddenly forget where you are. The world around you fades away: faces, music, and noise all receding into the background until it’s just him and you, you and him.

Just like it’s always been.

Taehyung's head dips towards you as if pulled by gravity, and your body responds in turn, hand sliding from his shoulder to the hair at the nape of his neck and eyes fluttering shut. Your breaths mingle together, his nose lightly brushing against yours, and you find yourself on the brink of keening forward, on the brink of diving headfirst into a place of no return, when—

"Hey, we're going to step outside for some air. Do you guys wanna—oh."

You spring apart. Jimin is staring at the two of you, eyes so wide you're worried they might fall out of his head. His hand is still half-raised, pointing in the direction of the doors behind him, and you use this to make your escape.

"Yeah sounds good I'll come outside definitely," you babble before speeding towards the exit. Glancing back over your shoulder, you see Jimin say something animatedly to Taehyung, but the latter shakes his head and mumbles something back, his face pink.

The night air is cool on your skin, and you could not be more grateful for it because what the fuck was that?

Were you really about to kiss your best friend? Or was he going to kiss you? Things had certainly been…different between you two recently, but this surely would have been an awful idea. If something went wrong or there was a misunderstanding, you'd likely never be able to come back from it.

He said he doesn't have feelings for you.

…But do you have feelings for him?

Maybe yes, his smile has always set your heart alight unlike anything else and yes, your brain seems to have been lingering recently on how damn handsome he is and yes, you'd do anything for him at the drop of a hat—follow him anywhere—but given your history, of course you would, right? He's your best friend.

And he deserves to be more than a rebound. Because that's what this must be—lingering heartbreak amplified by the emotions of a wedding. You may have even imagined Taehyung leaning towards you, a desperate fantasy of a mind just wanting to be loved.

That's it, you decide. Your brain must have finally snapped into a world of delusion.

You're so caught up in your thoughts that you don't hear Jungkook approach you, practically jumping out of your skin when he places a gentle hand on your arm.

"Y/N—shit—you okay?" He looks at you with his big doe eyes wide and apologetic.

"Yeah," you say, as your racing heart begins to calm. "You just startled me."

"Sorry, I tried to call you, but I don't think you heard. We're back over there if you want to join us." He nods his head in the direction of a patio area behind him, and you spot Namjoon, Joshua, and Wonwoo sitting around a table next to an elegant fountain, its ornamental lights illuminating the magnificent swan sitting atop it. They’re all laughing and, for some reason, the sight makes your chest tighten.

"Um, maybe in a little bit. I think I might just need a walk right now."

Jungkook studies you, biting ever so slightly into his bottom lip, and you think you see something in the way of understanding behind his eyes (you wonder if it has anything to do with the notable absence of Maya and Mingyu). "Do you want company?"

When you just give him a small smile and shake your head, he nods.

"Okay, well…you know where to find us." He moves to rejoin the others, but then turns back towards you, taking easy steps on his heels. "And just shout if you need a friend."

You meander around the outside of the hotel, following the stone path that paves its way around the perimeter. There's a certain kind of peace out here. Though the summer is nearing its close, you can still hear crickets chirping in the grass and spot the occasional firefly dangling in the air. You focus on the swishing of the cars out on the main road and try to let the sound clear your mind, but as you settle on a short brick wall overlooking the property's enormous lake, you realize it's no use.

Your eyes drift closed as you sink into the grief once again, let it slowly overtake you like quicksand until your lungs are crushed and burning. But more than anything, you’re simply exhausted—perpetually drained by the demons which have once again arrived to feast on your psyche.

At this point, you think most of your frustration lies with yourself. Maybe you’re being overdramatic, maybe you should be over it by now—if only you were stronger, more resilient. Not the miserable pushover you feel you’ve turned out to be. Harsh? Yes. Unfair? Perhaps. This does feel like the breaking point in your life’s long line of abandonments, digging up feelings you haven’t felt since you were a child.

But that being said, it also makes you feel like you should be used to it by now. Should be used to having to bounce back—what else can you expect from the world at this point, really? What a fool you were to even think that this time would be different.

The sound of quiet footsteps has you opening your eyes again, and you’re not sure whether the man in front of you is the first or last person you want to see right now.

Taehyung has his hands in his pockets, watching you with that calculated expression he always has on when he’s trying to gauge your mood. But all you can see in his face on your end is concern, not a hint of awkwardness or trepidation after what just transpired between the two of you in the ballroom.

So it really must have been all in your head.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Kook said you seemed upset.”

“I’m fine.” You try to push out a smile, but he unsurprisingly sees right through it, closing the gap between you and gesturing at the spot to your right.

“Mind if I sit?”

You’re still not entirely in the mood for company but you can’t bring yourself to say no to him, so you give the tiniest of nods and Taehyung settles on the wall next to you.

The two of you sit in silence for a bit, the buzz of the surrounding trees continuing its serenade. Taehyung doesn’t push, doesn’t say anything, only provides a steady presence. On particularly bad days when you were kids, you’d both wander down to the local playground and sit on the swings for a while. Sometimes you’d talk—either to rant and let it all out or make each other laugh to distract yourselves—but most nights, you’d just sit in the quiet and enjoy the feeling of not being alone.

It feels like that now, with Taehyung’s warmth radiating at your shoulder and the stars hanging above, but tonight, you’re compelled to speak.

“I’m really pathetic, huh?”

Taehyung’s eyes flash as he looks over at you, but he doesn’t interrupt, sensing you want to say more.

“I’m at my friends’ wedding, I’m supposed to be celebrating them and their love for each other, and instead I’m out here having a pity party.” You scoff. “It’s pathetic and selfish.”

“First of all, we are out here having a pity party,” Taehyung begins, and it draws a sudden laugh from you that you think sounds halfway deranged, but he only smiles.

"Secondly, you're not pathetic, and you're not selfish. You just went through a traumatic event, you know? You're allowed to have emotions."

"I know, but I just don't…want to," you sigh. "I just want it all to stop. I'm so tired of feeling weighed down especially on a day like this, but it's like it just doesn't end. The reminders don't end."

"You thought he'd be here," Taehyung says softly, and though his head nods slightly in understanding, his voice is tinged with sadness. "You miss him."

"I—that's not exactly it, no," you quickly say, not wanting him to think that you somehow regret being here with him. "Given what he did…like you’ve said, it's not forgivable, so it's not like I wish he was here. I mean, sure, are there some days where I reflexively think about him and stuff? Of course—we were together for four years—but I…still would prefer to never see him again."

Taehyung lets out a short sigh that you interpret as approval, but he stays quiet, giving you time to work out your thoughts.

"I think it's more the loss of security than anything. Seeing Hoseok and Sunny up at the alter…I couldn't help thinking that I was so, so close to that—to having that one person that I could commit to walking through life with. A partner, a friend, just someone to have day-in and day-out. Forever." You choke up, a fresh wave of tears lodging in your throat that you try to keep down. Taehyung is stiff next to you, staring down at his hands in his lap.

"And I want that, Tae. I want that so bad. But it's…so scary to start from scratch after feeling that close. I feel like I'm losing my mind. I'm just constantly overwhelmed and feel like I can't outrun it, and then I feel guilty on days like this because I shouldn't be letting it get to me, and—"

"Hey, hey, Y/N, shhhh." Taehyung finally jumps in as you begin to spiral, reaching out to take your hand in his. "You don't have to worry or feel guilty because you are going to have all of that. Okay? You will."

"You can't know that."

"I do." He slips his pinky around yours briefly before his hand comes up to cup your jaw, guiding your eyes to his. "I promise you. I don't know how far out it'll be, but one day we'll all be together again at a place like this, and it'll be your turn." He gets a faraway look in his eye, seemingly perceiving something that you're struggling to even grab a glimpse of right now. "It'll be everything you've ever dreamed of—intimate and outdoors, right? I know you always said growing up that you were going to get married at the Spring Day Gardens. If you still want it, it'll be yours."

You let his words draw you in, painting you a picture so beautiful you're afraid to even let your heart believe in it. But his baritone voice presses on.

"And it'll be perfect. Not a cloud in the sky—nothing but sunshine. And we'll all be there, and you'll have your favorite lily bouquet and your perfect dress…"

Something stops him, and he blinks at you, dropping his palm from your face and glancing away at the lights from the party before resuming his tale.

"And the guy…" He licks his lips, and you feel the hand that's still holding yours tighten ever so slightly. "He's going to love you so much. Properly love you. He's going to see you come down that aisle and weep because he's just going to know that he's the luckiest guy in the universe. And if he doesn't cry right away, I'll kick him in the shins up there until he does because in spite of what Jimin and Jungkook think, we all know that I'm actually your best man."

You let out a watery giggle, the tears flowing freely now, and Taehyung reaches up to swipe a few off your cheeks, letting out a chuckle of his own.

"I want to believe you," you say quietly. "And hopefully one day I will. I just…I need more time."

"Whatever you need, you know I'm here for you," he murmurs, and you nod.

You fall back into silence for a few moments, Taehyung dutifully continuing to hold your hand while you lightly sniffle and wipe at your cheeks.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to go back to the party like this—I think you ruined my make-up," you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

"Maybe, but you're the prettiest raccoon I've ever seen."

You laugh in earnest now, your shoulders shaking with it, and Taehyung smiles at you before suddenly rising to his feet.

"Wait here," he says, and then he's jogging back up towards the venue.

The silence envelops you again as you continue to mull over Taehyung's vision. Your battered heart is hesitant to dream, all of your imaginings coming in with fuzzy edges and blurry details that you just can't seem to place. But you're sure Taehyung was definitely right about one thing—you can't imagine a situation where you get married without him standing by your side.

It's a handful of minutes later when the man himself finally reappears with a hand behind his back and a mischievous smile on his face. When you raise your eyebrows at him in question, he comes to a halt in front of you and presents a full fifth of your favorite whiskey.

"What do you say we get out of here?"

The dim hotel lights cast a soft glow about the room as you and Taehyung pass the bottle back and forth, the mood significantly more casual than the extravagant party you just ditched. The decor may be fancy—Hoseok and Sunny certainly didn’t skimp when it came to location—but the two of you are perfectly rumpled, stretched out on the expensive sheets: you having removed your make-up and changed into your pajamas and Taehyung propped up against the headboard with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his jacket and tie tossed over the couch.

You’ve started up a game of Truth or Drink, a somewhat milder version of Truth or Dare, where you get to take turns asking each other questions, and the respondent has the chance to either answer the question or take a mouthful of whiskey. Normally, between you and Taehyung, such a game would be low stakes, with your shared years and few secrets between you making it hard to ask challenging questions. But something about tonight and the need for a distraction seems to have made both of you competitive, going for questions that you know the other wouldn’t want to answer.

“What was the last thing you cried about?”

“One thing you don’t like about me?”

“Favorite position?”

“Did you really lose your virginity in a tree house?”

“What’s your greatest fear?”

"If you could have anything in the world right now, what would it be?"

"Oh God, one of those cupcakes from Sweet Night Bakery," you groan. It was a place you had passed every day on the way to school, the wafting scents of cookies and cakes playing pied piper to your youthful noses. You had always dreamed of one day being able to afford the expensive pastries but had fled your hometown before having the adult money to do so.

"Seriously? Anything in the world and you want a cupcake?" Taehyung laughs, pink tongue poking out from behind his teeth.

"It's not just anything, it's one of my life's dreams," you counter, playfully shaking a fist at him for emphasis, but Taehyung seems unconvinced. "Fine then, if you have such a good answer. Same question."

He tilts his head at you, a mild haze in his eyes that tells you that while he's not drunk-drunk, he's definitely tipsy. A beat passes and he takes a drink.

"Ooh, mysterious," you slur. "But I win."

"Alright, alright." He grins at you. "I concede to your sugary dreams."

You mirror his smile, observe the way his fingers curl in his lap as you try to think of your next question. He’s always had nice hands—so delicate and careful with everything he touches. It’s odd, you think, how such gentleness could emerge from a home and upbringing that was anything but. How someone as bright as Taehyung could come from such darkness.

“Do you want kids one day?”

The question takes him by surprise when you ask it, and he physically startles, turning the bottle in his hands slowly. “I don’t know. Why?” He looks at you then, and you feel like you can see a riddle being worked out in his head. “Where did that question come from?”

“I don’t know,” you echo. “You spent so much time earlier imagining a future for me. I realized that we’ve never really talked about what you want for yourself outside of your career.”

Growing up, you’d discussed your dreams for the future, of course. But while you have always skewed towards the romantic, envisioning rings and weddings and vows, Taehyung’s always been much more practical and career-oriented—his plans always involved degrees and promotions and retirement funds.

A beat passes as he continues to fidget with the whiskey bottle before he again says, “I’m really not sure.”

“Well think about it now,” you challenge. “Or drink up.”

He chuckles to himself, some private joke in his head. “It would terrify me, I think. But I’d love them with everything I’ve got. Want to give them everything I didn’t have and be better than my parents were.”

You hum in agreement; you’ve had the same thoughts on occasion. Some who grew up in your situation may have been turned off the idea of children—and the idea does scare you in certain respects—but you’ve always been stubborn. “It’d be a chance to prove that it doesn’t have to be that hard. That you didn’t deserve what you went through.”

Fingers graze against yours in a subtle show of kinship. As always, you understand each other. “Exactly.”

And he may be struggling to imagine it, but you can see it so clearly: a small boy with big, brown eyes and a boxy smile riding on Taehyung’s shoulders. The two of them playing in the sand at the beach house or walking down the street together—the boy’s tiny hand tucked safely in his father’s.

The image chokes you up, fills you with so much warmth you think you might burst.

“You’d be an amazing father, Tae.”

There’s not a single doubt in your mind about it—that this incredible, thoughtful, selfless man would also be a wonderful dad. He doesn’t look so sure, but a flicker of recognition passes through him.

“You’ve said that to me once before,” he murmurs.

“I did?”

A nod. “One time when you were drunk junior year.”

You don’t remember it, the memory lost to the alcohol. “I guess drunk me has flashes of brilliance.”

“Maybe we’ll see someday.”

“I hope we will.”

Suddenly nervous, he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing in the long column of his neck. “But it’d have to be with the right person.”

“Has there ever been anyone who you thought was close?”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “You’re asking a disproportionate amount of questions.”

Reaching over, you pull the bottle from his hands, drink down a mouthful of burning liquor, and set it right back in his lap. “Answer.”

Wide eyes appraise you through the dim light; he looks almost impressed. “No.”

“No, there’s never been someone you could see a future with, or no, you won’t answer?”

“The first one,” he says. “I’ve never been with someone I could imagine having kids with.”

You frown, the blunt despondence in his tone cutting. “Not even Luna?”

A look is thrown your way—pursed lips and creased brow telling you that’s a stupid question.

“What happened with her?”

He scoffs, lips immediately wrapping around the bottle as he takes a gulp.

“So something did happen.”

“We broke up,” he states. “That’s what happened.”

“Yeah, but you’ve never said why.”

He shrugs as if it’s no big deal. As if you’ve just asked him what he wants for dinner and not why the longest relationship of his life ended. “We weren’t compatible.”

You can’t help but sigh, a small part of you hurt that he still refuses to talk about it, that he’s closed this part of himself off to you. “You don’t trust me?”

“Y/N, no.” He shakes his head, looking genuinely remorseful to have given you that impression. “That’s not it. It’s just…impossibly complicated—“

“Was it me?” You’re suddenly reminded of a conversation with Maya from weeks ago, when she’d suggested that you were the reason all of Taehyung’s relationships had failed.

His lips part, tongue pushing into his cheek like he’s trying to hold words back.

“It was, wasn’t it?” you push, and his teeth dig into his tongue now, chewing. “You can tell me. I can handle i—“

“You were part of it, yes.”

In spite of what you’ve just said, the words land like a blow. You’ve spent years watching him go through breakup after breakup, and now you find out that you were a source of that anguish all along—helped fuel that heartbreak in his life.

It pains you to think you’ve been holding him back.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” you whisper.

“Because there was nothing to tell. It didn’t matter.”

“It does matter, Tae. If I’m getting in the way of your relationships…I want you to be happy.”

“You make me happy.”

That silences you, the sincerity in his voice leaving you blinking at him, and he continues.

“She didn’t like how close we are—most of them haven’t. But it doesn’t matter because at the end of the day, I’ll always choose you. And that’s the end of it. Nothing left to tell.”

You feel like you should protest this, insist on him putting himself and his future first.

But given similar circumstances, wouldn’t you do the same for him?

“Did Jace ever give you shit about us?” he asks, reading your mind.

He had, ranting about Taehyung that night in some fucked up attempt to explain away why you’d found him in bed with another woman. Before then, you hadn’t noticed the signs: hadn’t picked up on his reluctance to spend time with your friends, hadn’t read into the way he stuck close to your side on the rare occasions he did, a possessive arm always tight around your waist.

It all made sense afterwards, and you hate that the vulnerability and anguish of the moment made you question your own actions. You never would’ve shut Taehyung out—never in a million years—but it initially made you think that maybe if you’d been more attentive towards Jace, had been more sensitive to his feelings, that maybe you wouldn’t have wound up in the situation you did.

You recognize now that he didn’t deserve it in the end, obviously, but heartbreak is a funny thing.

Not wanting to have to admit to any of that out loud, you whisk the bottle from Taehyung’s hands again and drink. He watches the movement of your throat with heavy, knowing eyes, immediately taking the whiskey back for his own sip once you’ve finished.

“I must admit,” he says, the alcohol clearly loosening his tongue as he sags against the headboard. “I’m a little relieved about things ending for you and Jace. Aside from him being a certified douchebag, I mean.”

You frown, not sure where he’s going with this, and the look on your face must come across as offense because he’s quick to clarify.

“Not that I liked seeing you hurt.” He shakes his head, and you can see some anger at the situation still lingering under the surface. “No, never. But I just…now I get to keep you longer at least.”

“Keep me?”

“Yeah, this…” He wags a finger between you. “You know this has to end one day, right?”

The whiskey should be warming, but your veins fill with ice at his words. Losing Jace was one thing. Losing Taehyung would be a different matter entirely.

“You’re always going to have me,” you say, reaching for his pinky.

But he pulls his hand away.

“Not like this.” He smiles with what you assume to be intended comfort, but his entire demeanor is tainted with sadness. “One day, when you have the dream guy and the family and the white picket fence, there won’t be room for me. Not like this.”

It feels like earlier—him trying to paint you a picture of a possible future for you—but unlike earlier, you can’t picture this future. You don’t want it. Not if he’s not there.

“Tae—“

“It’s okay, Y/N.” He gives another sad smile, takes another drink. “No husband is going to want a third wheel hanging around. I understand. I want you to be happy, too.”

But you wouldn’t be happy without him, and in many ways, you’ve always known that to be true. But that knowledge hits you now with such force, such raw truth, that it renders you speechless and leaves you staring at him, drunken eyes laser-focused as if discovering the very center of the universe.

You want to challenge him on his statement, make him see that he’s wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. But the alcohol muddles your thoughts, has your brain dropping half-formed sentences through your mind like Scrabble pieces that you can’t quite wrangle into a coherent thought.

Taehyung takes your silence for agreement and, seeming to suddenly realize that some kind of line has just been crossed, takes the quiet opportunity to flip the conversation back to your game.

“The shoes you gave me for my seventeenth birthday,” he begins, the words tipping out slow and oddly calculated for someone who’s had as much to drink as he has. “Where did the money come from?”

You know where he’s going with this. And it’s perhaps the only secret you’ve kept from him in the entirety of your friendship. “Christmas money, I told you.”

“No, really.”

“Why don’t you believe me?”

“I never saw that house decorated for Christmas even once.”

“Could’ve been from an aunt or uncle.”

“But it wasn’t, was it?”

It wasn’t. You snuck the money out of your father’s desk one day knowing that he wouldn’t have even noticed it was missing. Absent-minded in everything aside from work, your father had misplaced things constantly. You drink. And even though it’s supposed to be an avoidance of the question, it gives him his answer.

“I knew it.”

“They weren’t going to miss it, and you needed it more.”

“You could’ve gotten in so much trouble.”

“I knew I wouldn’t. I didn’t. And it was worth the risk regardless.”

Looking back, you wish you’d had more of a fear of getting caught—wish your parents would’ve scolded you, screamed at you, anything. It would’ve been better than the indifference you’d been met with day in and day out. As if you were invisible.

Taehyung’s head swings from side-to-side. “You shouldn’t have. I would’ve been okay.”

“And you shouldn’t have punched Jace in that club, but you did anyway, didn’t you?”

“That’s different.”

“It’s not. You’re not the only one who gets to put your ass on the line for the people you care about. You were worth the risk.”

He blinks, regarding you as if you’ve presented him with some outlandish concept. Like you’ve asked him to explain rocket science or open-heart surgery. “Then you should’ve told me then.”

“You would’ve given them back.”

“Maybe, but then at least we would’ve been in it together instead of you lying to me.”

“And you’ve never lied to me?”

He hesitates, tongue tracing his bottom lip. “No.”

“Okay, then. Truth or drink: what’s the worst lie you’ve ever told?”

You know there must be one, can read it in the way his shoulder is suddenly pressed against yours as he tilts into you. Fingertips skim the bare skin of your knee, tentative in their movements, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath as the distance between you closes to mere centimeters, his gaze roaming your face and snagging on your mouth.

And you feel it—the pull that you’ve always felt towards him, the gravitational force that’s kept you in the same orbit since you were children. Two souls that intertwined the moment they sensed the other’s presence with a flash of awareness and said, You, you, you.

Thinking back on the entirety of your life, you don’t know how you possibly could have made it through without him: your best friend, your partner, your sanctuary. In such a volatile world—a turbulent youth marred by uncertainty and sorrow—he took your hand and held you steady, made sure you didn’t go through it alone.

In hindsight, you can’t truly regret it. Yes, there will always be a part of you that will resent your parents, wish that they would have loved you enough to spare you the hurt and stress they put you through. But just like the night when he brought you back to your apartment—held you close as you fell asleep in his embrace—your memories with him far outweigh the trauma you endured. When you think of your time spent growing up, he is by far the brightest star, outshining any darkness that may have lingered at the corners. It’s not the empty house or your parents’ stony faces that you think of first, but him: blanket forts and starry nights and walks in the park and blurry photographs and sometimes tears, sure, but only with him there to hold you.

Looking at this man in front of you, in every familiar line of his face and body, you know, without a crumb of doubt, that you’d do it all again. Screw Jace and Luna and your parents and anyone else who’s expressed disdain at your closeness with him. He’s written into every line of your history, every memory that’s worth something. And he may fight you on it, but he’s worth every risk you’ve ever taken—you would’ve stolen a thousand pairs of shoes for him. You’d move mountains and drain the oceans if he needed you to. You’d do anything.

You couldn’t live without him. You don’t want to live without him.

A moment of clarity, a wave of revelation as you lock eyes and are met with your favorite color. And at long last, you find the words.

I love you.

Your heart throws itself off a cliff…

And you lean in to press your lips to his.

NEXT

a/n: happy holidays to all who celebrate 😊

#taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #taehyung imagines #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #taehyung #bts fic #bts fanfic

[thehyacinthsgirl]

Young Royals analytical thoughts pt. 2

From minute 7:18 to minute 8:20 in S2E2, there is this masterful either acting choice or directorial move, but it honestly floored me when I watched it again tonight.

There are no seats left in class, and so Wille is forced to sit next to Simon. Wille makes some smartass remark about how he thought Simon might want that space he likes so much. Simon comes back with the most honest, badass rejoinder: “I was just trying to be honest about my feelings. Maybe you should try it sometime.” And in the moments after this, as they stand up, salute the teacher, and sit back down, we get three very distinctive glances passed back and forth between Wille and Simon — each conveying something distinct about the circumstances and the characters. Wille and Simon can’t take their eyes off each other, but they each go about it a different way.

Wille wears his heart on his sleeve. You can see every thought on his face before he says it out loud. He is an open book, and so his glances are filled with unreserved longing, as well a lot of hope and sorrow (mourning as though he has already lost Simon). One thing, though, that is very telling is in the distinct lack of anxiety Wille has over being caught staring. He will move his eyes away, yes, but he is typically too slow to really do so effectively. So, Simon is privy to the knowledge that Wille is always looking at him, pining for him, missing him. It’s very expressive of who Wille is as a person. He hasn’t faced wanting someone this badly, hasn’t ever really thought of loving anyone like this: because he’s never had the opportunity to get close to someone in this way before.

Simon, on the other hand, keeps his face impassive. You can’t really read every emotion, except perhaps when he is smiling or laughing. He has his guard up, especially around Wille right now. So, he doesn’t meet Wille’s glances or stares, but in the off chance he does, he looks away as quickly as is humanly possible and avoids any further confrontation.

But.

Sometimes, Simon will determine he is in the clear and risk a look back at Wille when the stakes have lowered or the discourse in the room takes precedence. And it is quick, quicker than Wille’s woeful looks, but it shows that Simon is no stranger to weakening under the impulse desire to see Wille’s face.

And this is so indicative of both their characters.

Wille’s never had to learn to hide away the heartbreak and longing from others, especially not from the person who is the subject of it all, because he was never allowed this. The instinct to shield what he is feeling from Simon does not really exist for Wille, because it is not something that has ever been in the cards for him. And this results in unabashed stares of yearning that Wille can’t help sending Simon’s way at every available opportunity.

Simon has adopted a closed off countenance: not just romantically, but in situations he feels warrant it and kind of in general. Simon has grown up with a great deal more adversity and heartache than Wille, through not only growing up a working class person of color in Bjärstad, but also because of his addict father and the responsibility of being a primary protector/caretaker of his mother and sister.

A comment that has stuck out to me while rewatching this week was in S1E1 when August, Vincent and Nils are brainstorming how to get alcohol for Wille’s initiation. One of them suggests the “nonboarder,” Simon. Nils and Vincent then have this moment where they mock and jest about how Simon, when he first started at Hillerska, had tried to approach them for a conversation — potentially to make friends. From day one at the school he started attending for the sake of his sister, Simon is ridiculed and treated as less. That’s why when August first speaks to Simon in a friendly manner, Simon’s response is to ask whether it was a prank. And with Wille, Simon had finally let his guard down and was met with betrayal and heartbreak. So, of course his walls are raised, right? But even with his walls as high as they are, Simon cannot help but glance over once more at the boy he loves, the one he can’t seem to stop loving — try as he might.

I love these subtle things, the ways in which we can glean even more detail from the body language, as well as the dialogue or storyline themselves. It’s just poetic cinema, god I love this show.

#young royals #wilmon #young royals wilhelm #simon x wilhelm #wilhelm #wilhelm yr #young royals wilmon #wille x simon #wilhelm young royals #wilhelm x simon #wilhem x simon #prince wilhelm #simon yr #simon eriksson #simon #yr s3 #yr s2 spoilers #yr fandom #yr spoilers #yrs1 #yr #yr s3 spoilers #young royals season two #young royals analysis #young royals season 2 #young royals netflix #omar rudberg #edvin ryding #young royals analytical thoughts pt. 2 #yr analytical thoughts pt. 2

[chadfallout76podcast]

Death Shroud Q&A (submitted by @completely-legit)

completely-legit submitted:

10h ago

Death Shroud Q&A!

Writing Questions

Q: 1. "You only ever took one of us." – Paladin Danse, Death Shroud Meta jokes aside, it's obvious you enjoyed playing some of the best of Fallout 4's cast off of each other in ways that we weren't able to get in the game due to the mechanical restrictions of the gameplay.  Which was your favorite dynamic between characters to write?

A: Honestly I loved writing all of it. By the time you're well into the story the Red Rocket is filled with the strangest assortment of people/not people in the entire Wasteland. The conflict, ball busting, unexpected friendships that would be blossom out of that is really fertile soil for writing. Moreover, on a shared journey 2 years later they have a comfortable familiarity with each other they just slip back into. I also love Jefferson/Silver Shroud's dynamic, because you have a superhero level character who starts off 2 dimensional ripped out of a comic book and is suddenly REAL in a way that doesn't fit with reality. As a result he's kind of bumbling and awkward. Jefferson is the embodiment of him "not fitting in" outside of the page where he's idolized as well as stylized. It's just great stuff.

2. I believe you mentioned you turned to Dick Tracy for inspiration while writing this picturesque slice of noir life – what's the most important thing you've learned about writing a radio drama?  What was the most difficult thing about resurrecting a much older style of media that you didn't appreciate until you were deep in it?

A: I looked at a lot of inspirations to get the feel right in the beginning acts. Relistened to old school Sam Spade radio dramas, rewatched The Maltese Falcon (Bogart's version of Spade inspired the character of Valentine in development), as well as "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" and "Dick Tracy". Since I've been writing radio drama for almost 5 years now, I think the biggest thing I've learned over time is getting the rhythm right. I write in a way that I want to take people on an emotional rollercoaster of a journey in pretty much everything I do. Because that's life. We laugh, we get anxious and tense, we pine for people, cheer them out, mourn their losses and feel their pain. I always try to recreate that ride in any story we've done whether it's this or other productions we do. Lastly, always give people what they want: a satisfying ending. As far as resurrecting an older style of media...that was really easy as I've been listening to Old Time Radio since I was a teenager.

3. Did you do everything in one take or have any rehearsals/direction?  It seemed like all the VAs were in one call together, which is some incredible coordination and effort!

A: Nope! All recorded one night in one take with no rehearsal. Mostly because I was sweating over the script and didn't finish polishing it until 3 hours before recording. We did it all on Zoom and not 5 minutes in, a lightning bolt hit a transformer down the street, knocking out my power. Wes had to continue recording for me (it's why there's a big grid of people at the start as opposed to the single actor view later on. I was crushed I wasn't there live while they were recording.

4. The amount of voice (and writing) talent in this production is incredible for something so unofficial!  How long did it take you to bring this 3 hour noir tour of the Commonwealth to fruition?  How many times did you have to replay/reload Fallout 4 to fact check your details? :)

A: Thank you! We started asking people a few months ago. I had a brainstorming meeting with Wes and Emil from Bethesda who offered some helpful notes as I wrote on their characters. It took me 26 hours or so to edit and design the media elements, add effects and music scoring. It took 14 hours to render in 4k and only finished rendering at 10am the morning of airing. I was sweating over night that it would finish rendering in time. lol I didn't have to replay Fallout 4 as I have a really good memory of it, but looked to the Wiki on some key details and transcripts of how the characters talked in the main game.

5. Obviously, the plot had to wrap a bit around which VAs were available; were there any specific plot changes you had to make based on availability, or did you only seriously bend to writing after you already had a list of actors available for participation?  Anything extremely fun you had to cut?

A: At the last moment sadly Lynda Carter couldn't join us otherwise I wouldn't have written in Magnolia without her. Shari Elliker came in clutch and did a great job voicing her! I really and truly wanted MacCready a part of it, but Matt Mercer is INSANELY busy and was taking a much-needed vacation. Despite that he was kind enough to record for us. I wanted to try and bring EVERYONE back but between not being able to reach some people, others just able to wrangle their schedule...I think we did a good job getting as many people as we did. There was a bunch of stuff I had to cut for time (because this thing was already 3 hours). There was going to be an attack by the Mechanist on Diamond City, following the events at the Lombardo's with the Mechanist taking out the Detective Agency in retribution for meddling in their plans, but felt that was unnecessary and we'd already put listeners through enough torture. lol I was going to bring back Scribe Haylen as a link to investigate some of the Brotherhood's Black Market dealings in salvaged synth tech as part of the surprise return of Kellogg. But honestly the most fun scene would've been a trap in which they're lured to a train station thinking Harold is coming in by rail from the Capital Wasteland only to be chased by an Endritch "modded into the Universe" version of Thomas the Tank Engine. It would've resulted in a car chase with the Shroud realizing Jefferson has used all his James Bond-like car gadgets already so the most they can do is throw bottles at it that Hancock has emptied. lol

Plot questions:

1. "You started something two years ago you never finished."  - Boss Lombardo, Death Shroud

In my opinion, one of the biggest successes of Death Shroud was fans were of course hungry for the answers about what comes after a "happy ending".  In Death Shroud it's apparent that Nora chose to assist the Brotherhood of Steel along to a victory against the Institute - but it becomes clear that the ending wasn't perfect for everyone. There's been a lot of discussion over the years about how every faction ending to Fallout 4 has its own unique drawbacks.  In this case it seems like even beyond sacrificing the Railroad (and a lot of synths) the Brotherhood left a power vacuum in the Commonwealth which is allowing for raiders and the like to take back over in the absence of both the Institute and an effective Minute Men alliance. What was the most important part of this "ending" and its consequences for you to address?  What made it the best backdrop to set Death Shroud in?  The play mentions more than once that poor Nick is running out of spare parts with the source of synthetic limbs destroyed!

A: I picked that ending for our story because honestly it's one of the most dire from which to grow the story from. The rise of raiders and Triggermen (mafia control of parts of the city) is very Film Noir. I also needed Nora to have dipped out of the spotlight and honestly trying to just go live a quiet life and come to terms with what they did to the railroad was necessary plot wise. The Cabot storyline was also essential...she needed to have let him loose in order for the pieces of the story to come together. I also think it's important to remember that the Brotherhood REALLY aren't their for altruistic reasons. Once they take out the Institute they don't give a crap about rebuilding Boston. They salvage tech, hoard it and that's kind of it. By the time our story begins Nick and our former companions are doing their best just to keep things in some kind of order. Even Hancock needs to go back to run Goodneighbor to prevent it from falling apart.

 2. The biggest breakout original character was Charlie, Nick Valentine's protege turned traitor; wonderfully played by Aeric Azana.  I actually experienced several double takes during the first airing of the play and had to google to make sure I hadn’t completely forgotten the character somehow, he fit so well with the rest of the cast.  What was the inspiration for his character?  Care to give us some more loose backstory about how he wound up in the Valentine detective agency?

A: Aeric Azana is BRILLIANT and really completely lost himself in that character and brought it to life. I think the character fit in and felt so natural because it felt like a character that would be there. Following the events of Fallout 4, I think Nick would learn the importance of friends and family and in chasing down Nora's son, a set of continuity of beliefs and ideals. Seeing the Institute destroyed and most of the synths wiped out...there's no backup, no spare parts. Nick can be killed and destroyed and all that he was would be lost. Not only does Nick need help at the agency I think he wanted to have something he could never have: a sense of family. Taking in Charlie off the streets, raising him, teaching him would make sense for him. I have some thoughts on his background and how Nick found him...but that may end up being a story, so I'll keep quiet about that for now. Suffice to say, missing people is not all that Nick finds on cases.

3. No noir sleuth story is complete without organized crime!  Fallout players are intimately familiar with a lot of the gangs of the commonwealth, be it the Khans, the Forged, or even the Gourmands – but Ma Lombardo, played by the lovely Ellen McLain & her rabid dog son Carmen (the Boss) played by the equally talented Zack Ward - represent a newer type of evil in the Commonwealth.

In your opinion how does organized crime fit within the wasteland societal structure that already... lacks organization as it were?  Are they essentially just raiders who will monologue at you before gunning you down for your caps? Who is even standing up to them at this point?  Prosecuting them for their perceived crimes?  It’s funny to consider that these crime families are essentially more organized than most of the remaining political structures in place!

A: Say what you want about crime families, but they do hold up a semblance of order where there is needed one. If you take a look at the arc of the Godfather, in the beginning there is a balance of justice, deep seated respect of an order...a code of honor. Ma and Carmen Lombardo return because we've broken what little of that was left with the Triggermen by the time we were done in the Commonwealth. The hierarchy peaking order has been obliterated, so it leaves both a structural opportunity for them to return and also a true need to try and BE the stabilizing force after the power vacuum that was left by our choices. Nora and the gang basically fuck up the Commonwealth in one way or another and I honestly think it would be out of character for her to WANT to be a ruler. So who's left? The Triggermen under Lombardo aren't just raiders...they were forced inline in a way they hadn't been in a long time. Raiders wouldn't have stood a chance against them.

4. "If I’ve learned anything, people are what they believe" – Nick Valentine, Death Shroud

Nick Valentine is a character who has struggled with his identity in the past but came to some degree of closure about it by choosing to believe in/focus on the goodness of his deeds despite being a perceived copy of another man.  In Death Shroud we see him brush up against a much more literal (and meta) manifestation of the power of belief in ideas - it's a pretty poignant juxtaposition of the character's much-deliberated ideology vs a rather wild plot.  Is that the reason Nick was the only man left standing at the end?  The manufactured man who was both someone else's idea but how he defines himself, who he is, is his own choice as well?

A: Honestly the reason it was him still standing in the end is because this ultimately is HIS story, a Nick Valentine Mystery. What Nick misses completely is that like Nora, he is a keystone event. Unlike any other synth out there he is aware of who he is, who he wasn't, can't hide in plain sight like others can. Because of his journey, his actions, the people he helps, saves, draws to him, a tapestry of ripples of his existence, choices and actions forever ripple throughout the Commonwealth. Magnolia's comments in the end both speak to his position in their reality and also direct speak to us as players, "in the end we're not just stories".

5.  Follow up:  I also found it to be an incredibly fascinating character arc for Nick as well.  He was offered the keys to Diamond City, albeit by notorious criminal Ma Lombardo, but then later essentially by Charlie as well - but our synthetic hero turns both of them down since he's a “just a detective, not a politician”.

A: It's more than that also. Nick isn't motivated by power, has lived long enough to see how power corrupts and creates the illusion of choice. What Charlie misses is the EXPERIENCE Nick has as part of his journey. Could having that kind of power mean no more missing people? No more broken hearts? Yes...but it also means denying people the choices and lessons they've learned as a result of actions they take. He wasn't born. He was made. He was built to replace people. He was given memories, a life and story he didn't earn, didn't choose. He made the CHOICE to to throw all of that away and do the most human thing real humans often don't do: help people without reservation.

Over the course of the play it becomes clearer as characters reminisce over the events of Fallout 4, Nick's not entirely satisfied with some of the choices Nora made along the way and more notably some of the ramifications.  This is followed by the very end where Nick takes control to reset reality to a ‘previous save’ far in the past before the entirety of Nora’s adventure - rather than say, just before everything involving the events of Death Shroud went to hell in a handbasket.  Any particular reason that was Nick’s chosen reload point?  Do you think Nick has reached a point from his experiences where he would take a more active role in guiding Nora's decision making going forward?

A: Nick didn't have a choice there. There is only the current state or as teased in the commercial in the very beginning the only saved state available to you. "Safe equals saved" wasn't just a funny commercial, it was a promise that going back means returning to the start of the tapestry of choices, actions and impacts that began when Nora's keystone moment began. The day she was woken up and became something other than Nora. If you pay attention, throughout Fallout 4 Nick offers very specific guidance in some areas and specific wisdom. Knowing full well how important choice is to the causal nexus and maintaining the tapestry of reality he would walk that line very carefully in the choices made vs. influenced.

Last Question:

I’m very curious what the three sentence pitch was to get most of these VAs on board with this amazing project - and even Pete Hines and Emil Pagliarulo as well – if you can share that with us!

A: There really wasn't one. I've become really good friends with Wes these past few years and the other voice actors, Pete Hines, etc. are also people I've gotten to know through Fallout For Hope. So I think our track record as far as fundraising goes, trust in me/Fallout For Hope, etc. from working together on both unofficial Fallout community projects, causes and events and official NDA ones we've done the past few years created a unique situation this thing could even happen. This was our 3rd production this scale, but the one I'm most proud of.

#death shroud #CHAD: A Fallout 76 Podcast #fallout for hope #fallout 4

[fiera-writes]

Alright, so. I finally rewatched Megamind after meaning to for like two weeks or so, basically ever since the sequel movie came out. And for several reasons, nooot a fan of how the sequel was handled honestly. So, I thought with the original movie fresh in my mind, I could try to brainstorm a couple things I might have done with a sequel.

To start with, the Doom Syndicate. The original movie makes no reference to Megamind knowing any other villains, let alone ever working with them in the past. So, if they were to be included I feel it should be more in a "Oh I've heard of them, they're from that one town a couple states over" way. Acquaintances at best.

But then again, the original movie also seems to imply that if there are any other superheroes or villains, they're pretty dang rare. This isn't The Incredibles where some people are just born with super powers. I mean, no one from out of town came to try and stop Megamind after he "killed" Metro Man. With Titan/Tighten it all happened within a day so less time for outsiders to react, but Megamind had control of the city for a good while there.

So, if we want to keep the Doom Syndicate... it would need to be handled differently. Also get rid of that brain "Mentor" character. I don't really have any ideas for how, except...

Perhaps they're originally fictional in-universe, from a Saturday morning cartoon or a video game or something. One way or another, they're made real and now Megamind has to stop them and probably make them fictional again. Could also be achieved with a different set of villains.

Another way to do a new villain could be Dimensional travel. Say there's some sort of a Bizarro universe, where Metro Man was evil and Megamind was good to start with. Or both were evil and teamed up to do evil. In any case, Alternate Universe Evil Metro Man gets transported to the main universe, causes mayhem. Might even force the Metro Man we know out of retirement temporarily, or not. If he does show up in public, would probably make an excuse of how he's also from some other universe specifically summoned to help out, thus explaining why he's gone again afterwards. Dude just wants to make music.

To add, the dimensional traveling villain doesn't even need to be a version of Metro Man, they could also be anyone else. Some other alien, a dude who fell into acid and got powers from it, idk man.

Hear me out, an Evil Spider-Man of sorts. That is, someone who starts out as a normal human being, perhaps an outcast, and by some twist of fate receives powers, which they proceed to use for evil. Might be re-treading Hal's deal a little but idk what I'm doing anymore.

Evil Bruce Wayne? A rich guy with weird gadgets and the skill to use them, for evil. Would probably be harder to pull off since Megamind's whole deal is how smart he is.

A Mad Scientist type. Megamind is an Evil Scientist, but not a "mad" one, he just builds a death ray powered by the sun because he's that smart. Put him against someone whose ideas make no sense to him but somehow still work.

Misguided hero? Not really a villain but would be an antagonist for the story, someone who's convinced that Megamind's redemption is all an act maybe? Would probably need powers of some sort to be an actual threat.

Alright then, let's move onto something else for a change: MegaRox. My shipper heart needs them either clearly together or clearly working on that. But the original movie does seem to imply they're already together by the time the new museum has opened. I mean, the way she jumped into his arms and then kissed him? Sure it was on the cheek but that wasn't a platonic thing. It's about the context!

No further notes on that, so I present to you... Prequel!

Takes place before Metro Man fakes his death so he can retire, and therefore Megamind is still Evil.

MegaRox wouldn't be an established relationship but did y'all see them at the start of the original? That was practically flirting anyway and that dynamic should be present.

Maybe it could even be early into his villain career? Show how he really got started as a Super Villain, the first kidnappings of Rocanne Ritchi, gaining notoriety, and how Roxanne learned that she's honestly in more danger of getting hit by stray debris from Metro Man's dramatic entrances than from anything Megamind aims at her.

I doubt I'll ever develop any of these ideas into a coherent story but if anyone wants to yoink a thought, go wild. I'm also down for discussing any of these.

#Megamind #MegaRox #Fiera's Musings #not really in this fandom tbh but I have read some really good fics #and I had a couple thoughts I figured wouldn’t hurt to put out there #anyway with this I'm going back to fantasizing about my failguy pirate blorbo (Guybrush)

[rickity-rickity-i-need-help]

Okay, so here's what had happened.

I originally started writing a Rick C137 x Reader fic. The mc is non-binary / gender neutral, and they were gonna be a type of space traveler kinda like Rick. It was gonna be super rad, I still have a hella long outline for the story, and i'm definitely gonna write it eventually.

But then I started brainstorming a one shot-

Again, it was C137 x reader. However, this time, it was just gonna be like a one-off scenario where Rick is absolutely blackout drunk, and he tries to kill the mc. Is it healthy? Probably not- but then neither is Rick. I was really excited about this one shot (and am still writing it- I just thought it needed something and am still workshopping it.)

But THEN.

I read Rickfucker's absolute MASTERPIECE of a story called "10 Ways to Say I Love You" and it was about Young Rick when he was in the freedom fighters x reader. That story was so immaculate. So unbelievably good- it got my head spinning on a Young Rick x reader fic.

(Because bro, who doesn't love Star Wars? That shit slaps. That kind of story would slap- and thus I got REALLY INTO WRITING ONE.)

And now my brain is spinning a beautiful idea of a Rick Prime x reader fic that has something to do with the finite curve (because I just rewatched season 5 ep 10 and It slaps so hard holy shit.)

But now my brain is spinning, bro. Idk which one to work on first. Is it sustainable to work on several at once? Is there one that's more appealing? I'm kinda lost, man, lol.

I'm probably gonna finish the Young Rick one first if I'm being completely honest here. That one is so fun to write. But then again- so is the Rick Prime one. I'm very much scrambled and in need of fanfiction to the point where my brain is writing it, bro.

Help me I am deeply mentally unwell.

#rick and morty #r&m #rick sanchez #rnm #r&m spoilers #rnm spoilers #rick and morty spoilers #rick prime #young rick #young rick sanchez #rick c137 #rick prime & reader #rick sanchez x reader #young Rick Sanchez x reader

[zepskies]

Hey Zep!

I love your writing, especially been enjoying the Soldier Boy series stuff and the latest with Smoke Eater!

(Btw are you taking inspiration from One Chicago (Fire, PD, Med) with it? If so kudos and I love it, big fans of those series myself 😊)

Anyway! I’ve really been enjoying your works, been pouring through them and the stuff you have on AO3. I also thought your tips for writing were super helpful!

I’m back to writing myself after a long ass break, but always struggle keeping inspiration so a lot of my work sometimes goes unfinished. I’d like to ask how you keep motivated and continue a fic even if sometimes you’re not into it? Do you have any tips or tricks?

Thank you and again, love your work!

Hey there, lovely!! ❤️

Thank you so much! I'm so glad you liked Break Me Down and are enjoying Smoke Eater too! ❤️‍🔥

(Oh yes, indeed I am! 😊 I love all things Law & Order and One Chicago. I based firefighter!Dean on Lt. Matt Casey in Chicago Fire, with a little Severide flair lol.)

Thank you again for reading my work, both here and on Ao3!! I'm also glad that my writing tips have been helpful to you in any way. I came back to Tumblr and writing in general after about a year break myself, so I feel you there.

I absolutely LOVE your question though...

Because it's something I still battle with myself. I think all of us writers and artists struggle to stay motivated, no matter how much we love our craft. I do, however, have a few tips that help me immensely.

5 Tips to Stay Motivated to Write:

Be organized. Create a realistic, attainable schedule. ✍️

My brain works in checklists, bullet points, very methodical. I can't write chapter five before chapter 1. I can't write a series (even a mini series or a long one-shot) without outlining first.

So my first step is creating a schedule for myself: from sketching the premise, to bullet points/outlining, to actually sitting down to draft, to then editing. When I'm working on a series, I write the first 3 to 5 chapters before starting post it.

This means I have a head start. I commit to writing a chapter per week after that until the series is done. This give me lots of time and wiggle room for editing before posting each chapter afterwards. For example, I wrote the first 5 chapters of Smoke Eater before I started to post. I'm now in the middle of drafting Part 19 out of 20 even though I just posted Part 11.

Now, this doesn't mean I don't slack off lol. If I don't follow these steps I lose my discipline. I can get lazy. (We won't talk about And So It Goes. 😅 I've been sitting on writing the last 5 chapters for a painfully long time.)

But I have other tips that help me get my head back into the game.

2. Revisit the thing that gave you inspiration in the first place! 🍿

Rewatch, reread, revisit the episode, movie, book, story, artwork that stroked your muse and had you daydreaming and brainstorming about the WIP you're working on. That can be a good way to revitalize you when you feel your motivation lacking.

3. Create a music playlist. 🎶

I love doing this, especially for a series. I often create a playlist of songs that remind me of the setting, the characters, the romance I'm trying to create. Whether it's the words or the tone/rhythm that get me going, music inspires me greatly.

(For Break Me Down, for example, I listened to songs like "All My Living Time" by Radio Company for the vibe of the plot, and oldies like "If I Didn't Care" and "You're Getting to Be a Habit With Me" by Mel Torme for nostalgic 40s vibes/the romance.)

4. Go for a walk. ☀️

I walk for exercise, but it also gives me time to daydream and run scenes in my head while vibing to my music (sometimes looking like a crazy person as I nod and make hand motions lmao). This helps me clear my head, get some fresh air, then come back to my laptop with a little more pep in my brain, ready to write.

5. Encouragement and feedback from others. 💞

This really helps, of course. Whether it's someone you trust to read over your work, or seeing how people react to your initial chapters after you post them. Both can be very motivating to keep going, at least for me!

And I'll be transparent, I've gotten a bit fatigued while writing the back half of Smoke Eater. I have a lot going on at work and my personal life at the moment. But seeing how people have been commenting and giving feedback on each chapter -- the mystery, the connection between Dean and the reader, the various storylines happening -- it's been incredibly motivating for me to read those back and remember that people are enjoying what I'm coming up with. It helps give me the push I need to get the rough draft out.

And a rough draft doesn't have to be perfect on the first try. That's why it's rough. I call it the "throw up draft." Just get it on the page. The editing process is where I truly find the nuance in the dialogue, refine the plot, exposition, etc.

Anyway. I'm long-winded again, as usual. 😂

I hope this helps you! If you have any other writing questions just let me know. I love talking about this stuff! 💕

#ask me stuff #reader appreciation #writing is hard #writing tips #staying motivated #tips for writers #support writers #support artists #smoke eater #break me down #dean winchester #soldier boy #spn #the boys #zepskies answers

[hippielittlemetalhead]

So I'm binging ST again cause tbh I've only seen the whole show once and been keeping a finger to the pulse of the corners of fandom I enjoy and/or identify with. So gonna be writing 3.2 as I rewatch season 3 cause I'm bringing in the 'actual grownups' characters and want to get them and their timelines ✨right✨.

While I do that I have some questions/ideas. Just go crazy with answering however you want to respond, simple answers or essay form I'm spitballing/brainstorming in between my bustling about & some feedback helps.

1.) Murray has connections in all the local scenes including punk & actually knows Steve just by a nickname/alternative/chosen/gifted name & realizes it when all the groups convene at the mall. This may or may not affect his feelings on stoncy and stancy shenanigans.

2.) Gareth is Steve's cousin but the parents they're related through haven't spoken since they were baby/toddler respectively. Kinda thinking their moms are sisters, the family were immigrant transplants to town for business purposes & Gareth's mom married down while Steve's mom married a new money businessman. Gareth is fully aware Steve is oblivious till Gareth says something that connects the familial dots. Idk, kicking that one around.

3.) Because of some of the hand waviness and contradicting answers I've seen about ages and grades and the like... Billy/Gareth. Will/Gareth (jealous, missed his shot Mike but he's okay eventually). Or... Gareth/Chrissy 👀

4.) {Season 4 bits} Corroded Coffin are good just if they play a different style than metal. (I saw a ficlet that they had a Greta Van Fleet esque sound mixed with a touch of metal and tbh I liked that idea a lot or they could be grunge?) Otherwise they kinda suck. 🙃

5.) Steve as El's guardian per Hop's will vs. Joyce who fights for her cause she doesn't trust Steve still? 👀

I have even more I'm playing with but they'd definitely be spoilers. 😬 And just a heads up this is my secondary account so I'm not ignoring people in the comments I just can't respond as hippielittlemetalhead 🙃 but if you want to yell at me in the asks I will absolutely answer when I can! Assuming my inbox is on and working cause technology hates me. 😅

#punk steve headcanons #yeah the ramblings of a madperson #Rambler writes #stranger things thoughts

[neotriobrainrot-reborn]

Eyo. Time for me to elaborate more on this post (sorry for the Grammer mistakes and typos there. I was evicting every thought in my brain)

So after making that post, it had me thinking: How did Miguel end up convincing so many Spiderman of his view of canon? How did Miguel damage the ideals that Spiderman represented so much? How did Miles see through his bs better than everyone in the society and inspire the spider group to break apart from the Spider Society?

I did struggle to find a proper answer. I went through & brainstormed the scenes of the movie, and while there were some important stuff that helped(Miles conversation with his mother, which is everything to me), I was kind of looking for extra stuff. It wasn't until I rewatched the first Movie(ITSV) & thought about this with that added context that the answer finally clicked for me:

Miguel made them afraid to leap, and Miles made them realize that

A core theme in the first movie was about taking a leap of faith. Miles was so afraid of taking that leap (both metaphorically and literally) that it held him back. He didn't see himself as enough so he focused on filling in the shoes of the old spiderman instead of becoming his own spiderman. Peter B was afraid of taking that leap of faith to repair his relationship with MJ because he was afraid of failing again. Gwen had shut herself off from her friends after her Peter died because she was too afraid of taking that leap, of trusting & getting close to someone because the pain of losing the people she cares about would be too much.

The thing is though, they grew from each other

Mile's hearing his father's speech to him was what gave him enough courage to take his leap of faith and become the best spiderman he could be(there's even symbolism with him being a better runner than swinger and how he embodied that during his leap of faith.). Peter B had finally started to take his own leap of faith thanks to Miles, which allowed him to start taking the first steps in repairing his relationship with MJ. Gwen had finally opened herself up to trusting Miles. While she was more so in the process of her leap of faith and didn't "leap" until ATSV, having Miles a part of her life, even briefly, influenced so many of her actions

Now how does this correlate to Miguel?

Because his view of canon condemned & punished Spiderman for leaping. A part or Spidermen, and life in general, is to take that leap of faith. To jump and leap towards something in your life, even if it doesn't work out, and even if you crash and hurt yourself. Taking that leap, even if you failed, can be fulfilling because at least you tried. The most important part of life isn't to shrug off every blow like it's nothing and make perfect leaps without messing up, it's impossible. The most important thing about falling though, is to get back up, even it hurts. Because at some point, you'll make the jump, and your life is what you make of it. You are your own Spiderman, spider powers or not.

Now keep that in mind, and watch Miguel Shatter it when your at your lowest

Every time you leap, you'll fall. It'll happen to you regardless of what you do. The universe needs you to fail. You can try to leap, but you'll get yourself and others burned by the sun. Your life isn't yours, it belongs to canon

This revelation would break many people. To see that your life isn't even your own, and that you're destined to always fall when you jump does some damage. They had seen that their leap of faith will never amount to anything.

I honestly wouldn't be surprised if a good amount of Spidermen were recruited to the Society some time after a canon event. It feeds into their pain and tells them it was necessary and takes the faith out of "Leap of Faith" to create a leap of nothing.

This happens with Gwen, where she takes her leap of faith by dropping the mask and showing her father who she was. This didn't end well for her initially, and this event was what lead her into being brung into the society.

But Miles changed that.

His own leap of faith in trying to save his dad, even if that meant rejecting every part of Spider Society instilled that leap of faith that they have forgotten.

------

I don't have much more to say, I was just dumping all the thoughts in my head into a random pile in the corner-

#miles morales #miguel o'hara #gwen stacy #peter b parker #atsv #spiderman atsv #across the Spiderverse #across the spider verse #across the spider verse spoilers #spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spider verse #atsv analysis #fungireborn.post #favorites

[littlestsnicket]

sprint board update!

3/4 tasks complete this week. i didn’t actually finish the fic, still need to fix the transition into the ending, but all the beta feedback is addressed and i’m confident i’m not going to have an ‘oh i wish i had set this thing up better’ moment so i’m going to start posting anyway!!! aaaahhh!!

the doc meta-data says i’ve been working on this on and off since last july, and i really credit this scrum thing for giving me the push i needed to actually get this done. (extensive cheerleading from @soymimikyu and @kuwdora was also critical, but that’s less something that changed in the last month or so) (although it is actually also credit to talking to kuwdora about this thing i wanted to try that i’m actually doing it)

sprint review/retro/planning notes below the cut

considering my parents were visiting all weekend and i was feeling kind of garbage last wednesday and thursday (i’m feeling so much better than i was in early january but still having weird bouts of stomach upset-ness), i’m actually shocked i got as close to finishing as i did. yay!

don’t feel like i have that much to say though… i am a simple person and moving sticky notes around can really be the little tiny push i need to sit down and focus and get things done. i think for me personally (especially since this is a hobby and i’m not trying to train myself out of my desire to obsessively edit as i go even though i understand why that is bad if you want to be efficient) the task based mentality is a lot more helpful than a word count goal. and also that a major thing i was stalling on when i started was sitting down and rewatching the bits of the show i needed to… the tasks make that sort of research feel like an accomplishment in and of itself instead of something that needs to happen before an accomplishment occurs. the immediacy of a reward (even if the reward is just moving a sticky note) is hugely helpful.

want to give myself a bit of a break, allow time for fic posting (which always ends up being a tiny bit more involved than i anticipate), and swapping my wardrobe for summer, and preparing for work trip, so no actual writing tasks in the upcoming sprint—just some commitments to sit down and brainstorm.

going to have to get rid of my little nest of completed sticky notes :( but it’s getting too big and the project is done.

anyway! reclaiming productivity culture to do more hobby instead of more work!!

#mayo writes with scrum

[fangbangerghoul]

My week in a set of photos~

The black pictures represent the back of my eyelids cause my ass has been asleep for most of it.

Monday started out normal, I had a presentation that I forgot about coming back from spring break but I nailed it because I've seen enough politicians bullshit in my life to replicate that.

Tuesday I slept in on accident but turned out it was for the best because I got a stomach bug. Which fuck all of that.

Yesterday I managed to keep down, jello, bananas and bread along with my water only diet for those two days.

Today I have managed to eat one solid food and it thankfully cured the ever-present headache. Currently I am still eating jello in between stuff to not test my luck but I have upgraded to some more tea for caffeine reasons.

I have been brainstorming while all this has been happening and watching a lot of The Resident because apparently Medical Dramas are my sick go to (used to be Trailer Park Boys but I cannot tell you how many times I've rewatched all those episodes, so I had to switch it up recently)

Am I still on a writing hiatus? Yes. Will I be off it very soon? Probably not. I really want to give myself a whole month off plus I promised my brother I would crochet a big project for him soon and he just ordered the yarn. I think when I do decide to start publishing material again it will be material, I have a sum of, so I am not stressing myself out about posting. I also just prefer to have things of quality written instead of what I felt I did last time and gave lots of quantity. I don't think my writing was bad, but I also felt like I always made myself feel I had to produce a lot and I am trying to step away from that for my own mental health.

But I do have ideas, many ideas, and I have spoken about these ideas with several people who have helped me focus them. Are they Starfield related? No. But yknow I am not gonna say that ship has sailed yet because I do have a bunch of nonsensical notes and a maybe false hope the story will still be cared about. But my passion in brainstorming exists for other things right now.

Currently I am rushing to finish a paper that was due yesterday to make my English grade not look like I am failing.

Thats about it for the update from me. Y'all have seen my BG3 posts from over my spring break. That's literally all I did. I was gifted an Xbox as a late graduation present (I graduated in the Fall with an Associates of Science in Psychology; I am just crazy and am now pursuing a bachelor's in political science pre-law. I could just stop and call it a day, but I like this whole learning thing too much) So now I will forever have to choose schoolwork or Faerun.

#personal #update #fang writes

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf got me SOBBING bro, your writing is immaculate 🫡🙏🏼

PRAISE MAKES ME ANXIOUS

Do you like read more cus I put a read more on this one cus as per usual my response turned into this:

I am deadass so nervous because I am like 15 chapters written in advance right now, so everyone's being so kind about chapters I wrote like over a month ago and now I'm so nervously rereading my new ones worried they'll be disappointing.

What was essentially the Robb era of hotgw has come to an end, and we're about to enter the Jon era and a lot of my favourite parts of this series are in these next unreleased chapters. A lot of set up in the first 15 chapters has been building up to so much of what's going to start playing out and I can't help but feel nervous everytime yall are so nice. Because now I'm entering that prime era of:

"Remember when Game of Thrones was really good then it started going downhill and everyone ended up hating it?"

Now I'm looking at what is much more going to be more original not show/book dependent content and I'm like: WHAT IF THEY HATE IT WHAT IF IM JUST AS A DISASTER AS SEASON FUCKING 7.

Also I mean kudos to yall still sticking with it because this fucking series is so long. I just finished chapter 30 on Monday and I still am on what would be the plot equivalent of early season 7. I still haven't actually gotten to fucking winter yet. (Which to be fair plays out a lot different then the show so it's not going to be even comparable)

And the Jon era of the series starts having more flashbacks and other povs (granted typically those chapters are longer to make up for it), and a lot of scenes are what I call classic season 1-4 GoT scenes which are mostly just quiet dialouge that doesnt necessarily move the plot forward but are necessary for character development, world building, and narrative themes and foreshadowing.

That and I'm in the era of "Jon was fucking abysmally mistreated and miserable in the show by this point" so my Jon frame of reference is so skewed by bad characterization I'm worried he comes off as out of character. Whereas other characters I'm immensely proud of my work such as my character work for Theon Greyjoy, Selyse Baratheon, and Olly specifically. I really love the work I put into what I think was really bad late show (season 5 fof Selyse, season 6 for Olly, and season 6 - 8 for Theon) and yet I'm also finding writing Jon to come so naturally to me yet I'm worried I somehow will do worse then..

Also I start really cementing certain positions I hold now, especially in regards to hot topics such as my opinions about Jon being a rape victim of Ygritte, my opinions on the subject of dragons and Targaryean restoration, stuff about Robert's Rebellion I've purposely ignored, and I start including a very specific book plot ignored by the show and can only hope show only or show preferring fans will not get taken out of it for those plots being used instead of certain show ones.

I'm just really passionate about asoiaf and early Game of Thrones I always have been and finding the motivation to write 30 chapters of like an average of 11k each for a fic is insane to me and its baffling anyone still reads it let alone likes it.

But it's my favorite series I've ever done, I think about it pretty much non stop, all day everyday. If I'm not writing I am actively outlining and brainstorming and rewatching and re reading the show and books to make sure I have a grasp in this world and its characters in a fair manner. asoiaf/GoT was one of the biggest influences on my musing influences and direction as a fiction writer. It has always been more special to me then I've talked about (mostly because during its prime peak I was in high school and college and was not terribly active in fandom due to work load) and then when I got back into it it was after the final season and all anyone wanted to talk about was how bad it got. I look at the final 3 and a half (I think season 5 is mostly bad but Castle Black is a great storyline right up until the comedy that is dumb and dumber just ending the Baratheon storyline for good cus it was between writing Euron "Bick Cock" Finger in the Bum, or writing a real storyline for one of your moat interesting morally grey characters that was post blackwater Stannis) but I like figuring out why it's bad and where it could have taken those ideas to make them work and a lot of that meta became aspects of hotgw, and its essentially an extension of what I love about this series regardless of the bad.

This went on for a long time for no reason, JUST LIKE MY HOTGW CHAPTER LENGTHS-

#its not even 11am why do i always answer asks in the morning when my brain is going 800 km per second

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Eleven/Amy/Rory Update Pt. ?

Today's word count on posted/drafted/the like is 52k which, for six days, is a little bit insane, I'm not gonna lie. About 10k of that is my Let's Kill Hitler rewrite, which will probably gain a couple thousand more tomorrow. This episode took a LOT of work to rearrange, not only to fix the stupidity of the Season 6 River Song plot (goodbye, Silence, don't let the door hit ya where the good lord split ya), but also having to rewatch the episode for inspiration grossed me out so much with all of the blatant sexism/"sexy" moments/absolutely weird vibes. The whole Doctor/River marriage has some rancid vibes because not is her whole identity wrapped around him, birth to grooming-to-be-an-assassin to being TOLD she'll fall for him to sacrificing her regenerations for him, but also the Doctor/River romance completely falls apart for me because they only get married/have a relationship because they're both told by the other that they will. We never see any organic build-up whatsoever.

So hopefully in this 'verse, you'll find this version of Let's Kill Hitler better than the original. Amy and Rory get to actively participate in and are actually important in the quest to find their baby, the person who kidnapped River makes more sense, River's motivations make more sense (both for killing the Doctor and then eventually helping him come back), and we leave off on a fun tease for the next episode!

...Why did I write out my tease for tomorrow's fic post in today's update? Is it because I'm a bit sleep deprived right now? Probably.

Anyway, I'm having a lot of fun not only writing for the immediate next fic in the series, but continuing to brainstorm/outline/write for future updates as well (the process may sound insane, but it satisfies the ADHD well). I got into watching a bit of Thirteen's run today and it gave me a lot of inspiration for Eleven's post-regeneration era, even if that is getting further and further away because of some of the one-off ideas that are inserting themselves into the middle of Eleven's era, including a River-POV fic about her finding her own way in the universe OUTSIDE of the Doctor, a fun poisonous-hallucinations fic that serves as a great character study of Rory, and an explanation for/introduction to Clara as a character. Tons of fun!

#aletterinthenameofsanity #my fics #fanfic #ao3 #eleventh doctor #doctor who #thirteenth doctor #eleven x amy x rory #rory williams #amy pond #writing updates #my writing