#you could argue for white passing maybe but not white. and also forgive me im sure dc DEFINITELY didnt think of the al ghuls ethnicity

[hearteyes-candyskies]

Odysseus

yandere shouto x reader, background shinsou x reader

summary; im a lil too obsessed with greek myth and purple prose and shouto’s too obsessed with u. peep the title if u still dont know what this is abt

tw; blood, death

word count; 2.6k

X

the cast

of course, we have our brave and guileful hero, Todoroki Shouto, as Odysseus himself, Nobody, King of Ithaca, and Son of Laertes. you play the role of sweet Penelope, Helen’s pretty mortal cousin. brash Antinous is portrayed by Yoarashi Inasa. and Shinsou Hitoshi is our silver-tongued Eurymachus

the first glance

Shouto first comes for the hand of your demi-god cousin, Helen, who is said to rival Aphrodite in beauty. you don’t like this farce your uncle puts on, summoning men from all over Greece to compete for Helen’s hand in marriage; she is still a child, only 16, and with no say in her future. still, you think, rather guiltily, better her than you. you do your best to avoid the suitors who come in hope of Helen’s hand, lest the see you and decide that they would like a consolation prize. downward gazes, veiled hair, and thick, draping robes all help to deflect attention, and you mange to pass unnoticed for the first couple weeks. all of this changes when he arrives. it’s said that nothing escapes his watchful gaze, and when his icy eyes sweep over you, you can feel yourself freeze as you pull your shawl just a little closer. he pauses for a fraction of a second, and yet you are unimaginably relieved when he moves on to inspect the crowd of nobles gathered in the corner

the pursuit

that night, you appear only as needed for the festivities before hurrying off to your rooms to weave. you’re rushing through one of the more abandoned hallways, preferring to walk a little extra rather than run into a drunk man, and when you turn the corner, room in view, Shouto stops you. maybe stop is too vague of a word; rather, he cages you in, not only with a casual hand against the wall, but also societal niceties. you desperately want to push him away, run for the refuge of your room, but to do so would be to slight all of Ithaca and bring his wrath down on your father. Shouto knows this, too. he tries to woo you first, honeyed words and a silver tongue, but you’re the daughter of a king. you’re used to gold. he tells you that the minute he saw you hiding away in the corners of shadows that his heart would beat for no other, and that he had to have you no matter what it took. 

‘such a delicate thing, whose humble beauty is overshadowed by your cousin’s,’ he says. it doesn’t escape your notice how docile he makes you out to be, and while you were raised to be demure and refined lady, if Shouto really thinks you’re going to sit back and let him take you away, he’s wrong. he seems to sense the little fire of rebellion deep within you, but rather than putting him off, it only stokes his desire. lust flares in his eyes, and from that moment onward you know that you’ve trapped yourself in an obsessive relationship

the snare

Shouto leaves Tyndareus’ house with an alliance of the Greek city states and your hand in marriage. his quick wit and silver tongue allows him to secure the visiting nobles into a united agreement; Tyndareus will choose a husband for Helen, and all other men must leave without quarrel, and come when called upon. in return, Tyndareus will support Shouto in his pursuit of you. you know who the man is before your uncle even speaks, for in your agreement to marry Shouto, you asked that he might provide a kind and worthy man as Helen’s spouse. once again Helen lords over your life, but you cannot find it within yourself to hate her for it. after all, she is but a mere child, still too young to understand that her beauty is not really hers, that her life will always be in the hands of other men. still, one could argue that you are but a child, too. the ceremony is beautiful; you wear a dress of the finest fabric, a material softer and finer and lighter than any sort of linen you have ever encountered but one that Shouto assures you is worth it’s weight in gold. if he thinks to buy your love with material goods, you’ll allow yourself to be spoiled but you will never part with your affection willingly. at least, that’s what you think. Shouto has other plans

the early years

even from the beginning Shouto’s love is overbearing and extreme, but he’s a powerful king who treats you well and kept your cousin safe so there’s not much you can complain about. you’re just barely out of childhood, children who have been burdened with great power and yet the love and devotion he looks at you with is unparalleled. you have a feeling that he would fight even the gods to keep you. he’s kind and considerate; for the first two years of marriage he neither beds you nor tries do, despite the pressure he must feel to produce an heir and the weight of your family’s expectations. these gifts, these personal liberties he allows you to have, the way he lets you roam the island at your own leisure, this is why you fall in love with him. it’s odd; you never thought you would love the stoic king of Ithaca, but it seems that Aphrodite has other plans for you. on your twentieth birthday, you welcome him into your bed for the first time, and less than a month later, you discover that you are with child. it’s the next turning point in your marriage

the worse years

after the birth of Telemachus, Shouto’s love changes once again. once forgiving and relaxed about your interactions with others, he seeks to hide you away for only himself to see. the worst is when men approach you. it does not matter what their intentions are, nor their age nor stature nor standing; Shouto claims that his heart beats only for you, and thus yours should beat only for him. his demands to know where you’ve been and who you’ve talked to become more and more intense, until the island loses it’s queen. you are a prisoner in your own home, with Shouto smothering you in love, spending the whole of his day just lounging with you while he addresses kingly matters. bitterly, you think how you have never had any power to your name, not the way that men do and not the way that Shouto does. your rooms are nothing but a gilded cage, and you are almost glad when he is summoned for war. almost. after all, you do love the soft, kind boy that he once was

the war

throughout the war, you hear of your husband’s exploits. his bravery, his cunning, his skill. whenever you do not hear about him, your heart aches in fear, though you do not know if you wish him alive or dead. a year after the way has ended, when Helen has been reunited with Menelaus again, when Agamemnon is dead and Cassandra gone, when Aeneas has set sail for New Iliium, not yet Rome, the suitors come trickling in. at first, you do not know what to do, for festivities and mean both ceased to exist within the palace walls after the birth of your son. two catch your eye, bold Antinous, known as Inasa, sweet beyond his brash exterior, and sly Eurymachus, whose wit you see in your husband and whose charm is only his own. by the end of the second year after the fall of Troy, it is obvious who your heart beats for. the sight of purple sets your heart alight, and his small smiles are as sweet as the finest honey. you wonder if this is how Odysseus felt when he first saw you. 

‘call me Hitoshi’, he says, and the way it rolls off your tongue is a sign that this love was meant to be. he asks for your hand in marriage three times. each time a flash of red and white causes your throat clog with fear, and though you know that you deny him out of protection, it makes the tears no less painful. even the loss of your husband cannot set you free

the reprieve 

after Hitoshi’s third proposal, you set about weaving a shroud for your vanished lover. each day you weave ten rows, and each night you unravel five more. the sun-drenched days you spend with your violet-haired lover only fuel a blazing passion within you, but when he is gone, when you are alone in a cold room meant for two, the icy gaze of your husband haunts you, and you cannot help but delay the inevitable once more. you will bury your love, one day. you just cannot find the courage now. in the end of the fifth year after the fall of Troy, you finish the shroud. 

Hitoshi is too respectful to rejoice, but you can see the relief in his eyes that you have finally put the memory of your husband to rest. plans are made, friends contacted, and suitors long vacated return to your halls in preparation of a beautiful wedding. the palace swells with life once more, the boisterous laughter of the men filling the halls and driving away the cold of the night. when night falls, you rest your head against Hitoshi’s chest, his arm slung carelessly across your shoulders, and you listen to the steady sound of his heartbeat, and rejoice in the constancy of his love. 

where Shouto is the sun, bright and brilliant and life giving, but prone to flares of temper and burning those his affections focus on, Hitoshi is the moon; silver-tongued and soft, reflecting the radiance of others and giving the world a gentle glow. yet, despite your happiness, despite the love and life that is promised, you cannot help but feel a pit of worry in your gut

the unraveling 

not more than a week after the former suitors’ arrival, your anxieties are confirmed in the form of a beggar. he is naught but an old man, merely claiming to know of the great king Odysseus, yet you cannot help but lean away from Hitoshi, your lover, and sit as if unhappy with the festivities. something about your mysterious visitor doesn’t sit right with you, and when he proclaims that Odysseus has escaped death, you know why. Inasa laughs, the scent of wine and honey heavy on his breath, and declares Odysseus dead. 

‘his wife has burned the shroud she wove, not more than a month ago. dead men do not return five years after their fall.’ you want nothing more than to silence him, fear brewing in your stomach, and you are too busy giving panicked glances to your dear friend to notice how the stranger’s eyes train on you alone. a curt nod affirms Inasa’s statement, and your voice is steady when you answer. 

‘less than a moon ago I laid the memory of my husband to rest. it has been ten long years, five years too long for a living man to return.’ you say this, and yet, you cannot wonder if this is a test . who is this man who claims to know of your husband, whose eyes burn like ice against your skin? you have to know, and perhaps it is your curiosity that causes your downfall

the slaughter 

when the guests wake the next day, you propose a challenge. it’s selfish of you, borne out of a need for reassurance, a need to know that your husband truly is dead and that your love lives and will remain living. the great bow of Odysseus, only to be strung and shot by the man himself, is brought out, and forty axes are planted in the great hall. 

‘this bow was my husbands, may his soul rest in Hades, and it was said that only he could wield it. who among you will try?’ man after man step up, failing good naturedly and patting Hitoshi on the back when he too does the same. you don’t mind his inability to wield the bow; in fact, it comforts you that your husband has been laid to rest, that his memory will not live on even in his weapons. then, the beggar from last night comes forward, and though you know that the decrepit body of his will be unable to sustain the force needed to even string the bow, fear runs thick in your blood. it is like you have been struck by Zeus, watching as the stranger strings the bow with ease, before launching an arrow straight through the great axes in the hall. your husband stands, and shakes off the illusion like a fur coat. 

‘my love’ is all he says, and before you can react there’s an arrow buried in Agelaus’ heart and an expression of horror burned into his face. he orders you to the bedroom, your shared bedroom, but you stand still in shock, unable to move as he slaughters the men you have called friends in the very place you once called a prison. soon, far too quickly, there is none left save for brave Inasa and your lover Hitoshi. the look of disgust on your husband’s face as he rounds on Inasa, sword drawn, is unimaginable. 

‘you come into my house, flaunt the rules of xenia, court my wife, and desire mercy? you will have no justice except for the bite of my blade.’ Inasa dies inelegantly, loud voice lost in a fountain of blood pouring from his throat. as Shouto stalks towards Hitoshi, it as all you can do to throw yourself around your lover, despite your please, Hitoshi steps out from behind you, hands placating and silver tongue spilling words of peace and goodwill. you want to tell him that silver tongues fail against tongues of gold, but it is too late and in the end all you can do is hold your love as the life bleeds from his eyes, forgiving and gentle to the very end

the ruins

the hem of your fine silk dress is soaked in blood when Shouto pulls you into his embrace, and you call brokenly for the servants to keep your son from seeing the carnage. he should never have to know the monster that his father is. as you look into his face, worn by the horrors of war and lined by time, you cannot help but hope that this is not your husband who has just perpetuated such a crime, that the soft red and white haired boy you once knew is dead, and a god holds you in their arms instead. 

it’s a desperate, last ditch attempt to save the face of a man who once brought the life of Ithaca to you, and when you ask him to prove that he is Odysseus, that he is Shouto, your husband, you hope that he cannot speak anything but lies and half truths. he asks what you would want to hear from him, and you tell him that you have tired of sleeping alone and would like him to move to the bed in your bridal chamber, as only Odysseus himself would be able to lift it. 

Shouto smiles, the years slipping off his face, and for a second you’re staring into the eyes of a man who helped your cousin, a man who waited two years to even touch you because he wanted to respect your decision to love him at your own pace, the man who gave you your greatest joy, Telemachus. he strokes your hair, love clouding his beautiful eyes, and tells you that it cannot be done, for he built the bed himself around a living olive tree. your heart sinks in disappointment, and you know that no divinity stands before you, only a god of a man. as you fall into his arms and sob, he holds you close, arms just a little too tight as he whispers soft comforts in your ear. 

‘I am home, my love, and you have been here, waiting faithfully for me’

#yandere shouto x reader #yandere #tw: blood #tw: death

[gottlem]

“You are very endearing when you are half-asleep.” with lemonjuice !!! pls

hihi !! this is written in the favourite song universe bc i know it lives in ur mind rent free lol. i hope u like more songwriter juice :)) also i accidentally made this kinda long but imo u can never have too much fluffy lemonjuice (also also i havent proof read this and im tired so pls forgive me if its not at 100%)

“You are very endearing when you’re half-asleep”

Juice and Lemon’s relationship bloomed brightly as the months continued to pass. Time flew by so quick they found themselves in the run-up to their one year anniversary in what felt like absolutely no time at all. In Juice’s eyes, not much had changed, not really. They saw each other just as much (every day), and acted almost exactly the same, probably because they had been in love with each other the whole time anyway, the only difference was that now they never quite found a way to keep themselves off of one another. A year ago, they were almost shy with their physical contact, Lemon never being one for too much contact, and Juice wanting to bury her feelings down, only to spill her heart out into notebooks and Instagram posts. But now their hands automatically intertwined, or Lemon’s arm would snake its way around Juice’s waist. They got used to it pretty quickly once they had confessed their feelings.

Juice didn’t feel too much pressure to do anything fancy for their anniversary. It was more than enough to acknowledge it, and simply spend some time with her girlfriend. Gifts weren’t really any of their love languages, both of them opting for quality time and plenty of physical contact - if you asked Juice, she was the reason Lemon was now a hugger. 

And even though they had agreed and no gifts, Juice did have one thing in mind, she just wanted to do it well. She was going to write a song for Lemon. Sure she had already done this, she had been doing this since before they even got together, and Lemon had heard each and every one, but this one was going to be special. She was going to write the love song of all love songs, just for Lemon. She was going to share it nowhere, it would be their own little secret, something they could enjoy in private. She just had to write it.

Turns out, writing the love song of all love songs is kind of exhausting, and also just a bit of a challenge. Juice had had enough practise, she had written countless songs inspired by Lemon, completing most of them in half an hour or less, but this one was going to be special. Most love songs are universalised - just vague enough to be applied to most situations. They include the butterflies and the pining, and at most, maybe an eye colour. But that’s not what Juice wanted. Because Lemon was one in a million. There was not one other person out there for Juice, so why should she write a song that could be about anyone but Lemon? She went as far as to make a little plan on a scrap piece of paper, digging deep into her memories of how many times she had made Juice laugh, and when she first realised she had fallen (hard). It was going to be undoubtedly about Juice and Lemon. Filled with things only they would understand. That's what would make it special. 

Their anniversary was on Saturday, so on Friday, Juice rushed home from school as soon as the bell rang to finish Lemon’s song. Luckily, Lemon had a family thing, so she wouldn’t be joining Juice as she normally would, they were planning to spend all of Saturday together anyway, so a couple hours didn’t matter much. Unfortunately for Juice, it had been a long week. She had been trying to make progress on her song, but essays and assignments kept getting in the way. It was as if her teachers knew she needed some spare time, and decided to completely fuck that up for her. By 6pm, Juice felt herself yawning far too often than she was used to. She had turned her phone off so she didn’t get distracted, deciding that she just wanted to get this song perfected, and then she could turn it back on. 

In hindsight, she should have kept her phone on, because at 6:30pm, her bedroom door creaked open, to reveal Lemon, grinning from ear to ear and as cute as ever, but completely unannounced. She must have been let in, and Juice mustn’t have even heard her knock. She rushed to flip over the many sheets of paper she had lying around her bed, some slightly crumpled, some with circles around phrases, and lines going through others. But it was too late, Lemon would see right through her, knowing she's past the point of hiding her songs from her girlfriend. 

Lemon wore a baggy yellow hoodie (because of course) she had bought after giving her original one to Juice and never getting it back, and a pair of white shorts which were only barely poking out from under the hoodie. She had a backpack slung on one shoulder, which she quickly dropped to the floor before closing the bedroom door. There was just something adorably domestic about Lemon showing up in pyjamas that Juice still hadn’t learned to not silently freak out about.

“Hi, what ‘cha writing?” Lemon sat herself down at the edge of Juice’s bed, picking a piece of paper which, thank God, was almost completely illegible. 

“It’s a secret,” Juice winked, “I thought I wouldn’t see you till tomorrow, what happened to the family thing?” Lemon giggled, shuffling closer to Juice and giving her a quick loving peck on the lips.

“It wasn’t all that important, don’t worry. Besides, I’d rather be here” In lieu of a response, Juice just yawned, exhausted from the week. 

“Am I keeping you up, princess?” Lemon chuckled at the guilt that temporarily flashed through her girlfriend’s eyes, even though Juice knew she could never be mad at her. She knew it had been a long week for Juice, having to put up with constant complaints about how tired she was, so Lemon picked up the papers scattered around the bed, using all of her self control to avoid reading the scribbled lyrics (she had a feeling they were about her, but if Juice wanted it to be a secret then it would stay that way), and picked out some pyjamas for Juice to get changed into. 

Juice barely even noticed Lemon buzzing around her room, instead her eyes were drifting in and out of focus, trying to stay open. She was snapped out of her little trance when Lemon lightly shook her shoulder and quickly kissed her cheek, dropping the pyjamas in front of her. Juice just looked at them, too tired to understand that Lemon had gotten them out for her to change into.

“...Do you want me to close my eyes? I don’t mind, but let’s be honest it's nothing I haven't seen before” Lemon’s voice managed to catch Juice’s attention long enough for her to perk up enough to function again (even if was moving a little slowly).

“Oh! No, you’re fine, I’m just falling asleep. I promise you’re not boring” Juice stood up, fully intending to quickly change and get into bed as soon as possible, but the sudden movement threw her off a little bit, so she found herself standing still for a minute, just until she felt human again. Turns out, she was frozen for a little longer than she thought, because she heard Lemon giggling.

“Oh my god, Juicey, do you need me to help you? Because I will if it means you will go to bed. I’ve never seen you this tired before” Juice, giving in, just nodded her head, which caused Lemon to almost cackle as she started to get Juice into her pyjamas. Juice just rolled her eyes.

When she was finished, Lemon gave Juice a quick kiss at the top of her head. “There you go, shortass”

“Hey! I’m not even that much shorter than you” Juice argued sleepily, her words were dragged out and ever so slightly slurred.

“You are very endearing when you are half asleep. Now let's get you into bed, princess” Juice gave a content hum of agreement.

The bed was warm, and Juice clung onto Lemon like a koala as soon as they got under the covers. It didn’t take long for her to drift off as Lemon brushed her fingers through her hair, but before she fully fell asleep, she made sure to whisper an “I love you, Lemmy”

“I love you too, now go to sleep”

#lemonjuice #i promise ill get to the other prompt soon! #just not tonight bc im tired #lemongivesyoulife #juice boxx

[fairycosmos]

Sorry this is becoming a Long ask but. Yeah I always tried to be as conscious as possible as I could in the relationships of not being passive aggressive or anything like that but I guess the relationship OCD + long distance and inability to properly communicate a lot of the time is what messed it up and sure they had not great stuff they did sometimes but I feel like it's more on me since I'm older yknow? It was also my first proper relationship and neither of us told family bc LGBT stuff

HEY your recent ask just reminded me that i had a whole answer to this in my head and then got distracted by all of the shit w my mum :( im so sorry for the late response, but please know you didn’t pressure me or stress me out at all. i’m in a calmer mind state rn so i can respond more readily. anyway my first instinct is to say that you were very young. yeah, you were a year older but in this context it doesn’t mean much because you were both kids. even grown adults who don’t have to deal with mental health issues hurt each other (hopefully unintentionally) in relationships because lack of communication and honesty and being that close to someone for so long often leads to a lot of sensitivity and frequent misunderstandings. situations like this are rarely black and white where one person is 100% innocent and the other is 100% the bad guy. there is far too much nuance to judge it so such a standard, so don’t worry about basing your whole judgement of yourself from this singular relationship you had as a teenager. it’s ok to have regrets, in fact it’s perfectly normal and i would argue that it’s a good sign. it means you’ve grown as a person, that you’re able to look back and pin point what you would change about your own behaviour. that’s a skill a LOT of people never develop, and it will serve your future self so well. of course, mental illness doesn’t excuse abusive actions but they can help you understand why you were the way that you were and why getting help should always be a priority, maybe more so than dating if you’re in a really bad place. but as you’ve mentioned, you’ve been going to counseling and figuring things out and you should be so so proud of that fact, seriously. i think that you were both in a rather vulnerable position - not having outside support, doing long distance - and so while it’s alright to acknowledge your own mistakes, it’s not alright to continuously crucify yourself for something that is now beyond your control. i understand that lack of closure is an issue here - you apologized to your ex and they’re still mad at you. that must hurt, and it’s allowed to. because you’re clearly sincere. but one of the hardest parts about growing up is realizing that we don’t get to dictate how other ppl respond to us. we can change and grow all we want, but there are some people who just aren’t ready to forgive. and they don’t necessarily have to. the same can be said for you - you said they treated you badly at times, too. you don’t have to brush that off if you don’t want to, or if you don’t feel able to at this time. but your ex doing this doesn’t mean you’re some terrible, awful person. it’s just how they’re going to heal, and you get to decide how you’re going to, too. it may take a while to work through the guilt and to truly move beyond this, and that’s normal. you can take this all at your own pace. but i’d really urge you to practice some self compassion, even if it feels fake. your mental illness isn’t your fault, alright? and it’s absolutely natural to fuck up sometimes, especially as a 16 yo kid. you’re not even a quarter of the person you’ll grow to be someday, and there is so much room to learn from yourself as the years pass. little everyone has something they wish they’d dealt with differently, and the only productive course of action is to accept what cant be changed and to use it to develop a deeper understanding of what’s appropriate and what isn’t. you’re not a bad person. you’ve apologized and you’ve reflected. under these circumstances, that is good enough. try not to dwell too much while you’re in quarantine. meditate, self soothe, find a gentle distraction, take a bath, breathe and relax. also please call your counselor and let go of some of that nervous energy. it really will help, even if you have to froce yourself to. i’m sending you a lot of warmth and hoping you can let yourself just ‘be’ for a while. if you ever need a friend, feel free to hmy any time. and again im sorry for not getting back sooner and i appreciate how understanding you are

#anon

[thequeenofadream]

Dumbfounded (Gwilym Lee x Reader)

Summary: Gwilym seems to like you in his clothes.

Words: 1,447

Notes: it get a lil steamy!! but not as hot as the philippines weather amirite ha ha ha ok bye im sorry also multiple swear words.

A/N: this was supposed to be fluff, uh i guess i really am getting sick huh

~~~~~~~~~

You walking down the bustling street of London, bringing back lunch for the cast and crew of bohemian rhapsody. You were one of the art directors on the team and you had volunteered to get lunch for everyone with Joe, who volunteered to go with you. You loved bringing the 70s and 80s to life; It felt like you were actually there. You also had become such a tight friends with everyone and it was amazing coming to work everyday with people you considered your closest friends.

“Y/N!”

You looked to the left to see a car coming right at you. You ran towards the sidewalk with time to spare before you got your head sliced off. You held your bag of food tight, making sure none of it spilled. You sighed in relief. You were clumsy, you didn’t even understand how you haven’t caused one of the sets to collapse.

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry.” You apologized profusely to Joe who warned you of the oncoming vehicle. He just laughed, shaking his head. “It’s fine, just didn’t want you to get killed before Gwil asked you on a date.” You wanted to punch him, but he did just save your life.

“Laugh it up mozzarella stick.” You rolled your eyes.

You liked Gwilym, not only because of his gorgeous appearance, but he was quite the british gentleman. Not the ones who are racist and sexist back in ye old days, but an actual gentleman.He would help everyone out with different tasks despite being one of the lead actors. He’d occasionally bring donuts for the whole crew. He was the living proof that chivalry was alive. He wasn’t too serious either and truly cared for everyone.

He had even helped you out on multiple occasions; An example was that he saved you from your doom, falling off a ladder. Sure, he caught you in bridal style and you were both blushing like little kids, but that didn’t mean he necessarily like you. He was just very nice, too nice that he said sorry for that situation.

“Okay, but production is nearing its end and we all know he can’t just let go of you.” He said tossing a french fry into his mouth. He had been eating those french fries since you left the store and you wondered if there was any actually left.

“One, we’ll followed each other on every possible social media site on like the third day. Two, have you eaten all the fries?” You pointed at him accusingly.

“I’ve left them a fry or two.” He said smirking. You looked inside the bag to see the exact amount of two fries. “Wow, literally huh? Good thing I bought an extra one while you went to the bathroom.” You said chuckling as Joe frowned, holding his heart dramatically. “I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell me of such a thing.”

You both finally entered set and put all the food down onto the table. You put your hand into the bag to retrieve some soup. It looked heavenly, but any meal would look great after working for 7 hours. You grabbed a spoon before speaking through your walkie-talkie informing everyone that lunch was here.

“Make sure everyone gets some food, I’ll go ahead and tell the rest!” You told Joe before walking to the rami’s trailer where they all usually hung out. He gave a swift nod as he reached for his burger. You carried your soup in hand taking a few spoonfuls. You knocked on the door, informing them of your presence.

“You guys better come out before Joe eats all the fries!” You said looking over at Joe who just rolled his eyes. Before you could look back, the door opened swiftly hitting completely catching you off guard. There was a loud bang as you lost balance. You stumbled back and fell onto the cold hard ground with your soup spilling all over you.

“Oh my god, Y/N I am so sorry.” was all you hear could amongst the everyone piling out to see what had happened to you.

You were just the slightest dazed, but you could stand right back up, so you did. Your shirt was drenched in soup and you didn’t even want to deal with it. You suddenly realized the whole cast was staring at the two of you. Rami, Lucy, Ben, Allen and last but not least Joe. Rami and Lucy looked on in horror while Allen whispered a soft oh no. Gwilym rushed right for you, holding your hand as he continued his thousands of sorry’s. Your face immediately flushed, embarrassingly, because of two major reasons. Those being your distressing state and Gwilym fucking Lee holding your hand.

“It’s okay, it’s okay! I wasn’t looking either, so I’m sorry for causing this whole thing.” You said patting his shoulder. He just continued to look apologetic, never being able to forgive himself.

“I should probably change though so.” You said awkwardly, looking around.

“Oh you could borrow one of my shirts, please. That’s the least I could do.”

“It’s really no problem Gwi-”

“JUST TAKE IT Y/N!” Joe shouted from a distance while Ben was just nodding at Joe. What twats. You sighed as you didn’t think you could really argue at the moment so you just went along.

“Okay, fine.” You followed him to his trailer as he held the door open for you. You stepped in to seeing a vanity table, a dressing room, a lounge area and a mini-fridge. You shut the door behind you as he scrambled to grab some clothes from his wardrobe. You couldn’t believe you were both alone in his trailer right now. You’d gone here multiple times with the rest of cast, but being here along with Gwilym made your heart race faster than actual race cars

“Here ya go, you can change at my dressing room.” He smiled handing you a white button down. “Okay, now are you sure about this?” You said looking up at him, feeling guilty. “Surer that I could ever be.” He winked, sitting at the couch. You giggled before walking up to the dressing room door and stepping inside.

You didn’t bother locking the door behind you, because you knew Gwil would never. You took off your damp shirt, wondering what to do with it. You decided to fold into messy square, you’d be sure to tackle later once you got home. You slipped on the white button down and french tucked it. You looked in the mirror for a moment feeling slightly like Brian May from 1985, you were suddenly given this new found confidence.

You smiled in the mirror before taking your folded shirt outside. The moment you stepped outside was the moment Gwilym’s jaw dropped. Yeah, you always looked hot, but in his clothes, he was dumbfound. You walked up to him and sat down.

“I really appreciate it Gwi.” You said smiling sweetly. He was still breathless by the mere sight of you, before realizing he had to respond.

“Uh Yeah! Yeah! You can keep it. You remind me of Bri from live aid” He stammered. You noticed his sudden nervousness which made you smirk slightly.

You weren’t going to pass up the opportunity to catch him at his weakest.

“Yeah, well maybe next time I could borrow something else.” You suggested seductively, cupping his cheek and patting it a few times before standing up. Gwil’s mind went into panic mode as you started walking over to the the door.

Fuck. He thought. He needed to compose himself right now.

“I mean I could get you another bowl of soup over some dinner maybe? To make up of course.” He asked, standing and walking over to you. “Maybe we could skip that.” You walked over to him, placing your arms on his neck. You tiptoed and whispered into his ear.

“We could get some dessert.”

‘Fuck Fuck Fuck’ was all that went through his mind.

All he wanted to do was kiss you roughly, but you pulled away and pinched his cheek. “I saw a baskin robbins across the street and I absolutely love it there!” You dropped the alluring act alluring act and pat his back. You opened the door and stepped outside, giving a small wave. “See you later, Gwil. Don’t forget to have some lunch.” You said walking away, leavin Gwilym to ponder, leaning against the doorframe. He could barely comprehend what had just happened and where your new found confidence came from. He didn’t think it was possible but he loved you even more now.

Oh my goodness gracious he’s been bamboozled.

~~~~~~~~~

🌼 taglist: @malekdarling @i-padfootblack-things

#gwilym lee #gwilym x reader #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym imagine #gwilym lee imagine #gwilym lee x you #gwilym x you #bohemian rhapsody cast #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody movie #imagines #imagine #x reader #x you #joe mazzello #ft rami lucy ben and lucyy #steamy #just a bit tho #lmao #ok bye #i love you all #theimaginesofadream

[echoise]

Argent/MC anon here! Sounds good, just wanted to make sure you were okay doing a prompt but I would suggest 36, 52, or 68 if you decide to write one because I think those fit Argent and Sidestep dynamics more!!

BET YOU HAD LOST HOPE ANON well so had i but then that new update came and suddenly im swimming with the sharks. Slight spoilers. 1,482 words

You dust your cloak. The field before you is a flaming wreck of rubble and debris, broken clockwork soldiers strewn about. Some have cogs still turning weakly. Your HUD is blinking with diagnostics, detailing damage and offering short term solutions. You blink them away impatiently - Dr. Mortum will deal with them for you. Later.

You look across the field, to your unlikely - and temporary, you remind yourself - allies. Steel is staring daggers at you but holding back Ortega, who’s trying to break free and charge you. You smile. Some things never change. Herald is sitting down, holding his side, casting wary glances to your direction. And Argent…

Argent steps in front of Ortega and places a hand on her shoulder. They argue; you could easily listen in, savor every word, but you don’t. You just watch.

Steel shakes his head at something Argent is saying. Ortega’s hands sparkle, balling into fists and flexing open again. Her mind is forever static, even with Rat-King at the edges of your mind, but you don’t need telepathy to relish in the emotions you’re making her feel. It just never gets old.

Argent turns to you, silver eyes meeting yours behind the helmet. She starts towards you and you smile, shifting your weigth as you watch her approach. Steel barks something after her, but she ignores it.

You straighten your back as she gets closer, stretching to your full height. Making sure you can look down at her when she stops in front of you.

She scoffs. “You know your attempts at intimidation don’t work on me.”

“Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try,” you purr, vocal distorters turning your voice into a low growl. Her lips twitch just a bit and you know she likes it. You also know she’ll never admit it.

“Thank you,“ she says after a while, rapping her menacing claws against your armor gently, eyes on your helmet. “For your help.“

“Thanks? From you?“ You tease, tilting your head for effect.

“From us,“ she admits, an edge to her voice. She doesn’t flinch at the guttural sound leaving your helmet, recognising it as a distorted laugh.

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t quite believe that.“

“It wasn’t freely given.“ Her fingers are slowly moving upwards, tapping their way from your chest up to where your collarbones are, well protected under the suit. “Ortega had a special message for you.“

“I’m sure she did.“ She could tear your suit and actually wound you, like this. Rather than scare you, the thought is exciting. “Are you going to tell me?“

“Take off your helmet, and maybe I’ll whisper it in your ear.“ She smirks up at you, placing her palm flat on your chest, at the base of your neck.

You’re glad for the helmet hiding your face. Hiding the fact that for a moment, you’re tempted. “I don’t think we’re quite there yet.“

“Afraid?“ She taunts. You’re intensely aware of her hand on you. You wish it was actually on you, no armor in between.

“That’s cruel.“ You bow your head the slightest amount, hoping to appear coy. “You’re a cruel woman.“

“You have no idea how cruel I can be.“ Her eyes twinkle and you feel an overwhelming urge to kiss her.

“Cruel enough to make demands and offer nothing in return.“

She cocks her head to the side. Gauging you. She doesn’t glance back at her team, but you can tell she wants to. She’s not as confident as she appears, either. You’re not the only one who stands to lose something here.

Herald calls her name, but she raises a hand to silence him, her eyes never leaving you. You place your hand on top of hers where it rests on your chest. “Well, Lady Argent?“

She leans in close, nose almost touching your helmet. You hold your breath.

“My reputation… for your identity.“ Her voice is a low murmur, but your helmet has no trouble picking it up. Her eyes flicker from your chin up to where she knows your eyes are, hidden behind the reflective surface.

“Is that fair?“ Your own voice is a whisper, the helmet turning your voice shrill and metallic.

“Is it?“ She but breathes, eyes half-lidded.

You consider her for a moment. Then, slowly, very slowly, you raise your hands to either side of your head, pressing down on the seals of your helmet. You’ve done this before. You wish you could say you’re less scared this time. But there’s something else, too: a swirling heat in the pit of your stomach, a hot spiral swirling and mixing with the ice cold fear.

Excitement.

The helmet unseals with a hiss and you pull it off, drawing your telepathic shields tighter, to ward off the other Rangers. You don’t need to hear them right now. Rat-King senses your anxiety and curls protectively around your mind. Even though it does little to make you relax, you appreciate the comfort, and give them a mental pat. They purr and settle and you turn your attention back to Argent.

She’s smiling. Her eyes glide over your face, taking in every detail; every drop of sweat, every reddened imprint left by the padding, every faint scar and imperfection on your skin. You stand still and let her, until her gaze drifts back up to meet your eye.

“So,“ you drawl, a wry smile on your lips. “Now they’ll know everything.“ She leans in, but you press your palm on her chest, stopping the movement. “Are you ready for this?“

“Less talk, more action,“ She snarls. You can’t help the laugh it draws from you.

“What will your friends think, I wonder?“

She swats your hand away and grabs your face with both of hers. “I don’t give a damn.“

It still surprises you how soft her lips are. Smooth and warm. As is her tongue, sliding into your mouth, with just the slightest roughness to it. Like extra fine sandpaper. You close your eyes and just enjoy the ride: the way her body presses against yours, how her hand finds the back of your neck, claws still extended and caressing your skin. The lightest of touches sending shivers down your spine. She could kill you if she wanted.

You both know you’d let her.

You vaguely register a surge in the nearby minds, one Rat-King can’t quite hide from you - the other Rangers. Watching their teammate make out with one of the greatest threats they’ve faced in recent memory. An enemy who now turns out to be someone they thought was a friend.

You smile against her lips and wrap your arm around her, pulling her closer. Once again you find yourself wishing the armor wasn’t there, so you could feel her on you, every contour of her body against yours. Skin against skin. You’d like to think you could handle that, with her. She’s seen it, and she didn’t judge it. Judge you.

You fully expect it this time when her teeth sink into your lip. You growl, while she laughs, pulling back. Her eyes are twinkling.

You lick your lip, feeling the sore spot with your tongue. She didn’t draw blood this time-- but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. She can see it, her smirk growing wider.

“Cruel woman,“ you echo, mustering a smile.

She brings a hand to your face, brushing her thumb over your lip. “That was for the team.“

You glance back at them. You’re  not sure whose expression you love the most; Herald’s complete shock, his eyes wide enough that you can see the whites even at this distance; or Ortega’s, looking like she’s just about to pass out from anger, and you’re sure her rage is only hiding her grief and pain; or Steel’s stone face, eyes cold and radiating fury.

You turn your gaze back at Argent and smile, taking her hand in yours. “I’m sure they appreciate the...” You pause, not even trying to be subtle. “...sentiment.“

She allows you to hold her hand for a moment before withdrawing and stepping away. “Now get lost.“

“Without Ortega’s message?“ You tease.

She snorts. “I’m sure you can guess the contents.“

“That I can.“ You turn your eyes to Ortega, making sure to hold her gaze as you put your helmet back on. To her credit, she doesn’t flinch, or blink, only glares as you hide your face once again, safe behind a reflective mask.

“Get going,“ Argent orders again, and you resist the temptation to tease her about jealousy. No point pushing your luck. Instead, you give a mock salute.

“Already gone.“ Your voice is a distorted screech again, safe an anonymous.

She scoffs, and you hold each other’s gaze for a moment longer before turning and walking away - she back to her team, you back into hiding. Back on opposite sides.

Like it should be.

#fallen hero: rebirth #fallen hero: retribution #fh:r #argent #sidestep #silverstep #thats my tag for it #writing #mine #as soon as i add any amount of plot to the mix the wordcount triples #this went in a bunch of directions before settling #sorry if the actual prompt phrase seems out of place

[incorrect-ego-quotes]

It's December 1st. Whose screaming Christmas carols, whose baking Christmas treats, whose decorating, who doesn't care, whose putting up mistletoe everywhere, whose shopping for presents every second, who forgot presents, who purposely didn't get presents and whose constantly asking for a puppy? (Sorry this so long, I just kept getting ideas!)

IM SORRY THIS IS DAYS LATE BUT I L O V E CHRISTMAS I HAVE TO DO THIS ONE. ALSO FORGIVE ME THIS IS /LONG AS FUCK/--the ipliersthe jim twins are as excited as, well, a kid on christmas morning. wearing santa hats, candy canes in their mouths, they even decorated their mic in red and green ribbon. the two practically shrieking out christmas songs -- much to everyone's annoyance "CHESTNUTS ROASTING ON AN OPEN FIRE--""jesus christ," dark snaps, "can you two knock it off?! it's only the first--""WOULD YOU LIKE A MORE MODERN SONG OF JOY." jim twin #1 asks, holding up a worn book of christmas carols -- the same one they've had since they were 4. passed on from dear old Mother Jim."no! this season is so grossly happy and joyful -- leave me to work--""I, DONT WANT A LOT FOR CHRISTMAS." jim twin #2 starts off as dark covers his ears. why did they have to be the loudest egos? why cant they see how shitty of a holiday christmas is?!"THERE IS JUST ONE THING I NEED, DONT CARE ABOUT--"dark gets an idea and smirks. knowing one way he can get them to leave him alone. "santa isn't real."the two twins share an offended and angry look, mouths open, did he just?!"christmas was a pagan festival of gifts before being appropriated by romans based on the Odin myth."the jim twins cringe, holding their dear caroling book closer -- he...he has to be lying!"who is the god of war and death."the jim twins turn away offended as all hell. jim twin #1 throwing a candy cane in dark's face and hissing. "SHUN THE NONBELIEVER, JIM.""SHUN."they then run off to go do whatever christmas activity next -- dark hoping they won't take this caroling /publicly/.******ed edgar and silver shepherd are cooking in the kitchen. ed is a surprisingly good cook -- especially around the holidays. just ask anyone who's been to his thanksgiving or christmas dinners. silver only tagged along because he was tired of dark being a joy sucker out of the season."now," ed chuckles, "we're gon' need about a store's worth of flour.""...what?! wh--ed, why do we need a store's worth.""uh, /excuse you, youngin'/," ed points at his pink and white apron. almost annoyed, "this apron calls me chef in charge 'round here. you follow, don't question.""ed. first of all, that's wilford's apron. second of all, we probably only need one bag at most for gingerbread cookies. why would we need a--""listen. i'm only making one gingerbread man fo' everybody 'round here -- i take home the rest.""how...much exactly is the rest?""350."silver shepherd sighs, taking off his mask and gloves. ed still smiling away as if his idea was normal. well, no arguing with a stubborn man like ed. he grabs his car keys from the table as ed follows him, "your limit is 50 dollars for the ingredients." he mumbles. "i knew you'd come 'round!" ed wraps an arm around silver, "we're gon' have so much fun with these lil old cookies! i even have a homemade sugar icing recipe! i'll even make a lil cape fo' yours!" he silently doubted it but hey, its a hell of a lot better than spending his free time with an angry and annoyed dark. ******bim tugged the host along, holding onto the sleeve of his trenchcoat gently as he lead him into the meeting room. the tall green christmas tree standing proudly in the corner. decorations of red and green and gold littered the meeting room's table. the smell of pine hits the host before anything -- taking him back to his own cabin in the woods long ago. the trees covering him away from the world as he...the host shook his head. he hated those memories. he hated those dark times. he hated it all."wilford put us in charge of the tree this year," bim smiled to himself, "i know its a challenge with erm...""i'm blind?""yeah, that." bim sighs, grabbing the box of lights and unrolling them gently, handing the ball to the host, who held it with a strange look on his face."w-what's poking me?""lights, silly!" bim giggles. the sound making the host blush and laugh along. any time bim was happy, he was happy. "now, i'm gonna loop around the tree. you just follow along, yeah? tell me if ya get dizzy and we can slow down.""the host nods, holding the bundle of lights close to his chest. ready for the decorations -- reminding him of his most favorite time of year."bim shakes his head and laughs, "you can't ever turn that off, can you?""the host cannot."the two start off steady and slow. the host following bim's footsteps. he could hear the jim twins playing 'i'll be home for christmas' in the next room over -- their office space. "those two can never get tired of christmas, i swear.""the host reminds bim that it's worse for him since his own office is right next door to the twins."bim giggles, "well, hope ya like christmas as much as them." it's when bim giggles does the host wish he had his sight back. what'd he give to see his smile (although, according to dark, it looks like his -- he doubt it. bim was handsome, charming, while his smile held back pain he swallowed down.)in those small moments of thinking and wishing, the host stays in place. the lights tangling as bim gets wrapped up with the host, groaning as the tree falls gently against them. the two tied chest to chest, bim's hands resting on the host's hips. "um..." bim laughs nervously, blushing away, "hostie, bud, we're tangled.""i...is that you against me?""yeah...i'll -- i'll get us out!!"the music drowns out bim's struggles as he pulls at the lights. the host's thoughts screaming at him -- tell him!! now's your chance!! confess!!"i love...i love--""hmm?" bim perks up, "sorry, wasn't listening, what do you love?""t...this song!! i, i love it, it's my favorite christmas song."he stops and hears bim laugh again, humming along, "its a good song."the host goes along with the lie, singing along as bim rests his head on the host's shoulder to get around to the lights behind him. "if only in my dreams."yeah, only in his dreams -- bim had matthias, what did he have? nothing but his dreams of what could be with the two of them. at least, for a moment, he had the courage to change that. maybe that's what he'll ask for this year; courage. ******dark crossed his arms and continued to work in his office. he could smell cookies baking, he could hear christmas songs being sung, and he could see holly being hung in the halls. how stupid -- the other egos should be /working!/ do they think they can take over mark's channel with all this fooling around?! he slams the laptop he'd been using shut and stares out his window. even the fuckin' /city/ was covered in red and green, fake reindeer and sleighs all around, snowmen (who bought fake snow to LA?!) waving in the cold breeze. he face palms himself. a headache coming on. he hated winter, he hated christmas, he hated everything about the holidays.it...brought back memories he didn't want to dwell on. memories of christmas morning...in a mansion of some sort. fuzzy memories of a woman, a man, and that damned mark -- all enjoying...hot chocolate with marshmallows. opening gifts like.../a family/."heeeeey darkidoo," wilford bursts into his office. the jim twins still throwing (sharpened to a point) candy canes at dark's door. "what do you want, wil?""geez," he shuts the door, dark's back turned towards him, "what's up with the jims? ya do something?""other than not engaging them in their childish behavior -- not, i did nothing." he sighs, "did you finish the weekly schedule for this month's programming on Markiplier TV?""gimmie another day--""damnit, wil! stop -- just stop! stop with this foolish nonsense, this holly jolly bullshit! i hate this season and i hate the way it makes everyone--" he stops as he hears wilford set down something on his desk and wrap an arm behind him. hugging him. "dark," he sighs, "just...take it easy, okay? it's december -- at least be happy the year's almost over, and be happy you still got us. hell, be happy some egos are working like doc and google." he smiles, "just...be happy we're all still here to celebrate the season. and nobody's gone."there's silence as dark hangs his head low. "i'll leave you alone for a while. i gotta confiscate the candy canes from the jims. i'll see you at home, dark."he squeezes around dark once more and moves to leave, stopping before he opens the door, "oh! i...i found that while looking for the christmas tree in the storage back home. i...i have a feeling it's yours. broke it in for ya!" he laughs as he leaves. dark turns around to see a black mug with a cursive 'D' on it. an intense emotion of...nostalgia rushing over him despite not remembering the mug. he stares out the window again as he holds the hot mug to him. he looks down to see hot chocolate and marshmallows. he smiles and sips the hot drink. this season isn't so bad after all with people like wilford in his life.--the septiceyesthis...was going to be the best surprise, marvin thought to himself. thanks to a new trick he'd learned -- he successfully figured out how to move the mistletoe to wherever he wanted, as if he had hung them everywhere. he was sure it'd be a laugh to see everyone's reactions. making anti kiss the pizza delivery guy, making dr. schneeplestein kiss whatever old patient he was seeing, maybe making robbie kiss his reflection. it'd be hilarious nonetheless. marvin, the marvelous magician, shall wow and dazzle his fellow egos!!he hid behind the couch in the lobby of their headquarters, where they hold their meetings, and waited.and waitedand waited/and waited/.growing tired as nobody walked by, had they found out about his plan? did nobody just need to come this way?he saw jackieboy man walk by and perked up, using his wand to move the mistletoe closer under him, rushing out the door to call him back as he left."j-jackie!! hey...oh shit," he looked up as he noticed he was directly under the mistletoe.jackieboy raised an eyebrow before looking up. "aha, you want to meet me here?" he smirks, catching marvin's chin in his fingers, flipping down his mask and red hoodie, soft green hair cascading down his face. a blush crossing marvin's cheek."just us two? alone here, the christmas decorations and lights lighting up your face so softly...""um, i mean--""here? under..." jackieboy looks up. suggestive. marvin not knowing if it was humanly possible to blush anymore."jackie...""THE MISTLEFOE?!""wha--" he ducked as jackieboy tackled him, wrestling him to the floor as chase and anti walked by. anti shouting as chase winced."get the magic nerd!! get the magic nerd!!" anti shouts"THE HELL IS A MISTLEFOE?!" marvin yells as he taps out with his wand from jackieboy man's headlock. ripping away his cat mask."pssh, the mistlefoe!! put two people under that," jackieboy points to the mistletoe, "and have 'em duke it out, fight and stuff. you dont know about the best winter tradition?""erm...its actually meant for the two to--" chase is cut off as marvin uses his wand to seal his lips shut, chase giving him the middle finger and pointing to his lips.marvin used his magic to burn the magic mistletoe attached to the doorframe. cringing as jackieboy man helped him up. helping him walk to dr. schneep's office"better luck next year, magic boy!!""....i hate working here," marvin coughs as he waits for the doctor. this, was going to be a very long winter. ******the doctor clocks out early, waving goodbye to the other egos....at 10 am, after working for 45 minutes."dude, ya can't just up and leave!! we need help with decorating!! and baking the cookies!!" jackieman boy yells as chase nearly stumbles carrying in the tree. "i must!!" the doctor yells, "chase, you are in charge until i get back at...well, just know you're all working late tonight!"chase gives a thumbs up, pointing at anti as he walks by, already directing them all.the drive to the mall isn't too long, he runs towards the opening, still in his doctor uniform. this time of year was perfect for his giving heart. already having a mile long list of gift ideas for every one of the egos in his pocket, his credit card with his savings from all his paychecks since last year loaded onto it -- no price limit for anyone!! and he finally healed from his injuries after black friday and cyber monday!! (hey, those internet shoppers are no joke)he practically skips into the mall with glee at the decorations. giant christmas gift boxes, fake snow, even a 'winter wonderland' with a fake santa -- wait...was that his patient bobby dressed up? bobby with the bad smoking habit?"i hope he cleaned up for the kiddies," schneep says to himself as he rushes into the first store -- a new camera for chase on the top of his list!!he gets everyone everything -- new knife collection for anti!! a new tux for marvin!! every single marvel movie for jackieboy man!! stuffed animals and candy for robbie!! a top hat for dapper jack!!and that's just for the first day of december, he plans to do this all until christmas eve, already having different wrapping for each ego's gift. until he sees it. his own personal wish. the 35 book set of medical mysteries -- all in order, and all for him.until another hand touches the set too. dr. iplier staring at him from the other side of the shelf. downright glaring. "henrik.""edward."the two stare back in spite -- no, schneep /needed this/. he worked too damn long this year to be bested by some quack doctor ego."aha," schneep laughs, obviously fake, "what are you doing here?""shopping for christmas. i was just looking at this book set i wanted for myself."fuck. schneep tugs on the set. dr. iplier's hand not going away. "oh, really?" he smiles coldly, "so. was. i."dr. iplier tugs, schneep tugs, the two turning into a tug of war before schneep pulls him against the wooden shelf in the bookstore, yelling as they fight it out. the early morning shoppers crowding around them, recording as schneep hold dr. iplier in a headlock. "THOSE BOOKS ARE MINE, YOU PRICK.""OVER MY DEAD BODY, QUACK.""OH THAT CAN BE ARRANGED, BITCH.""TRY ME, YOU ASSHOLE."schneep pulls out the scalpel he keeps in his pocket. the two fighting more, knocking displays over and taking it outside to the winter wonderland exhibit. children running and screaming as they crash into santa's sleigh. finally -- they're broken apart by santa (bobby). schneep grabbing his items from the bookstore and rushing out the mall. not wanting to deal with police or security. wiping away tears as he drives back. thankfully -- good old smoking santa (bobby), his faithful patient, was head of security at the mall. "its christmas," he later told schneep on the phone (and dr. iplier), "just...stay outta the mall for a good two days and i'll pretend not a single thing happened"schneep wiped away tears as he layer learned -- hey, the bookstore had tons of copies of the book set they were fighting over, that was just a display!he, however blushes as chase, anti, and robbie crowd around chase's phone. the video from his fight going viral online. "doc!! you're trending under #ThoseBooksAreMine!! that's awesome as hell, you'll be a meme!!" chase praises. schneep shakes his head. nursing the black eye he has. he knows it'll be worth it when he sees their laughing and happy faces on christmas day.because he knows damn well, marvin would forget presents and anti would die before he got presents for anyone else.******"a puppy!!" chase smiles as he walks into their ego headquarters with anti. heavy coats and scarves on. a smaller dog being walked by a young boy trotting on. "ew." anti drinks the starbucks chase bought him, "dogs are gross--"chase gasps, "i...am offended on behalf of all dogs, dude!!" "what? its a dirty animal that tracks mud and barely listens.""sure you're not describing yourself, dude?" chase jokes as anti rolls his eyes. "how could you want a little disgusting creature like that?""they're cute, they're playful, they cuddle up to ya when its cold, they bark!!" chase goes on and on, sitting down in the meeting room as they wait for the others, "they keep ya company, they nip at ya when they're hungry, they...they love you unconditionally...they...won't be taken away from ya," he stops, sniffling. tears forming in his eyes, memories of christmases long gone hitting him. seeing his son and daughter excitedly wake up him and stacey to open gifts. going ice skating. baking cookies.shit."...chase?"chase shakes his head and wipes a tear, "sorry, bro. i...i'm just caught up in my feelings. this time of year and, missing my kids."anti looks down into his coffee cup. damn, chase has been through a lot. he's the only ego who keeps it together -- not like him who just...glitches out at emotions. "...it's fine." anti grumbles under his scarf, "i'm sure this christmas will be...okay.""really?" "...yeah, really. even with that stacey keeping the kids, this christmas will be worthwhile. i mean, we got...decorating and shit to do today. that'll take your mind off it, right?""y-yeah, and the kids are suppose to call after school...and, and stacey's letting me come to their christmas play!! you're right, for once, anti!!" chase smiles and hugs him, anti awkwardly patting back. "okay...hug's been too long, don't push it chase.""sorry."...everyone had called chase a dumbass to give a copy of his apartment keys to anti. everyone had doubted anti would show any spirit in the season. everyone had doubted chase would get anything he really wanted for christmas, even schneeplestein.anti snuck into chase's apartment that christmas eve. chase down for the night in his bedroom. a small 4 foot christmas tree decorated in lights and ordainments in the corner of his living room. a letter from his kids (that anti skimmed through) on the table. "let's prove all those dicks back at hq wrong," he whispers to the bundle in his arms. setting it under the tree. it'd been absolute hell to get anyone to allow him to take home chase's gift. grunting as he sat on the couch and nodded off into sleep. the dalmatian puppy slept too, a red collar around it's neck, tail wagging in its sleep as it was thankful for anti for getting him out of the cold shelter. excited to meet his new master in the cold christmas morning.

[tayegi]

This second chapter made me feel so much of everything, and I admire the OC for being so mature and put her anger aside. I feel sort of ashamed that it's not something I'd do hehe(seems like I need to grow more) I've never felt this way before but somehow your amazing writing makes me feel everything the OC feels! So thank your very much for sparing time to write all of this amazing stuff, even tho you're really busy. Really, thank you. I love you. ♥

Anonymous said:New rules isn't even about the boys for me anymore it's about this lowkey toxic friendship even if they've been friends for years that's the problem. OC couldn't talk to Mijoo about how she really felt not saying she should've told Mijoo to stay away from Jimin but let her know that it really hurt her feelings and Mijoo clearly didn't have a problem putting a boy over friendship. Even if it started with something small like this it could be the downfall to their friendship.

Anonymous said:I just wouldn't be able to trust Mijoo and that kinda ruins the whole friendship right then and there. It's I would think if she was so quick to ruin something for me for her over a guy what else will she do to put herself before me. I know friendships are important most of the time and the reader and Jimin were never together but I just wouldn't be able to associate with her. This is only what the reader is finding out now what else could Mijoo be hiding and I know it might not be that deep pt1

mirajoey said:Fml. I just hate how sweet demure pretty girls who are actual snake. And people keep misunderstanding 'ice queen but true' type of girls. Why do women need to be attractive (pretty) but superficial af to please men? My ex-crush is in relationship with my bestfriend tho😂 she and my other girl keep mocking me for being the only single ass in the group. Idk if they are intentional or not. I'm about to say fuck off bitch whenever they do that. But i'm a softie for friends. So yeah, am i weak?

Anonymous said:i feel like all this hate towards mijoo and the desire to hurt her is exactly how the oc initially reacted, and everyone who had sent in asks about physically hurting her is an instantaneous reaction, but will not actually do so. its kind of like being so angry during an argument with someone that you say things you dont mean. don't take it at heart. im one of the anons who sent in something about hurting her, and i would not in any way physically harm a person. much less a best friend.

Anonymous said:NR 2, Great writing as always. But I wouldnt have been as forgiving, maybe after a day or 2 we could talk things through with her after that. I get why some friendships crumble because of that. Its not because of the guy but because of the betrayal. It would hurt so much more from a friend you trust and have been open with all this. It just means they didnt choose to trust you with the truth and she didnt even admit it after all this time.

Anonymous said:wow that Mijoo... I have two thoughts: 1. "I hate snakeu" and 2. Haven't she heard the phrase, fries before guys? btw I would cut all connections with a "friend" like that. But you are wonderful Lu and never fail to amaze us♡ Thank you for sharing such quality contents so often~ Have a nice day!

Anonymous said:oH MY GOD! New rules 2 had me screeching. Bruh you make me so sad but i love it. Im in emotional turmoil for OC. Im. I just dont know man. Her friends are such asses.

Anonymous said:Ahh new rules hit me so hard, i actually cried! I relate so much to the oc and my own best friend of over 10 years pulled that shit on me and I was so, so hurt that I didn't even cared about the guy anymore but her betrayal really hit me....ahhh anyway that's such a emotional ride!!!! I love your writing 💕

Anonymous said:new rules makes me really sad of how friendships are always regarded as smth less than relationships. and the worst part is people around me would literally question me abt why im so against relationships when im not? i just feel like relationships and friendships are different but equally important.. it's so upsetting to know that friends that you treasure dont treasure you in the same way just because u r not their partner.

Anonymous said:Forgive me if I'm reading way too much into this, but I think the reason Mijo's betrayal brought so many strong emotions in a lot of readers is because most women "dread" something like that happening.. No one wants the "girls hate other girls/pick guys over friendships" stereotype to be true because it IS an awful stereotype, so when it happens (cause some people are awful and some of those people are girls) it's really heartbreaking.. 1/?

Anonymous said:the act alone is terrible but add to it that this proved the stereotype for some people and it can really sting!!I think that's the reason why "Mean Girls" is so popular! It satirizes that feeling and makes it funny/tolerable! The OC is acting in a mature way but given that she's a feminist it can also be that she doesn't want to prove that stereotype and wants to act above it! 2/?

Anonymous said:It's very understandable BUT no one would expect boys/men to be friends after something like that because it WAS hurtful and selfish and awful and Mijoo shouldn't get a pass just because she's a girl and OC wants to prove a point! Remove jimin from the equation and add a job promotion with Mijoo being sneaky and getting it instead of OC for reasons SHE instigated and it should be clear why OC needs to be angry! 3/4

Anonymous said:They should at least argue about it with a line in the sand drawn if it happens again! *not saying you should do that of course, the story is a stroy and should have this kind of layers/complex feelings, I'm talking in a real life scenario I guess* sorry to dump all this on you but it brought so many feelings and I had to write them down!! What do you think? A stretch? 4/4

Anonymous said:There would have been at minimum a month of radio silence from me if I were OC and one of my girl friends pulled a stunt like M.

Anonymous said:To be honest, I feel like maybe how the MC handled Mijoo maybe wasn't the mature thing to do? I guess in the past I always felt like being mature was keeping friends no matter what they pulled, but lately I feel like cutting off toxic friends actually is sometimes the best way to handle things? Like not causing a scene, or anything. It's just that I've come to value trust and respect in my relationships, and after part two I feel like I personally cannot trust or respect her. Just some thoughts!

Anonymous said:how is the OC so patient and... nice ?!!1!1!1 if i were her i’d be a salty ass bitch at mijoo like heck you just stole my crush away from me just because YOU like him. kdndksjsoana i feel aNgEr

Anonymous said:i hope karma fucks mijoo in the ass. i hate everything and i hope jungkook gets his ass whooped too so he can actually act like a human being for once. thanks for writing new rules

Anonymous said:As much as the OC is remarkable for her self sacrifice I feel Jimin had the right to know what happened and Mijoo really needs to know that what she did was not okay. Sure OC didn’t do the wrong thing by throwing a tantrum and ruining Mijoo’s life but I just felt like honest communication is necessary. This brings me to the point that I like how you write realistic stories because in life decisions aren’t so black and white.

Anonymous said:Yes I totally get you Lu. And in all honesty, I wouldn't have forgiven her. I wouldn't have caused that much or big of a scene, but I would have definitely ended my 'friendship' right then and there. It irritated me though that OC even went up to her and touched her asdsfhk. I would have went to sleep. I once had a friend who did the same shit twice. She dated the boys I liked, knowing about my feelings for each of them and then acted innocent. It felt like reading about me. - Reasoning Anon

Anonymous said:And the worst part is that I felt exactly the same way OC did. I just can't be mean to people. No matter how much I despise them. No matter how much they hurt or angered me. Because then I feel so evil, so I let it happen. Then I leash out on other people who never did (Jungkook). I just let them hurt me. And then I feel guilty about having mean thoughts about them. And when OC thought and felt like the asshole, the monster ... man. I already hate this story, go away 😩 - Reasoning Anon

Anonymous said:the oc in new rules is like waaay too kind to her "best friend", why would a "best friend" sabotage a girl's chance to get with a guy who genuinely likes her i still don't understand. it doesn't matter if the "best friend" likes the guy, i am betting the oc is some martyr to be that sacrificial. i would drop my "best friend" if she tried that on me

Anonymous said:LIVID. I'm so angry that Mijoo never gave OC Jimin's confession note, then had the nerve to involve OC as she was stressing over him. I'm frustrated that OC puts Mijoo on a pedestal just bc she's pretty, & seems to see Mijoo as more deserving of happiness than herself. Mijoo is a snake & deserves to be exposed bc she did both Jimin and OC dirty by not giving her his note. She deprived them both of what they wanted, & any relationship she now has w Jimin is tainted by what she did to him a yr ago

Anonymous said:I can only hope that Jimin wakes up and realizes what a snake Mijoo is. With a girl like her, I doubt their relationship can work out (or at least that's what I hope).

Anonymous said:mijoo gotta go

Anonymous said:I'm in love with new rules omg if I found out my best friend hid something like that from me I would be livid I don't know how she kept her cool. Can't wait for the next part! 💖💖💖

Anonymous said:Omg her friend is a snake and she's too forgiving 🤧😫😩 I just want to grab OC's shoulders and shake some sense into her, she's allowed to be angry at her friend, she's deserves to be happy too. I'm excited to see how the rest of this story is gonna develop, I really love all your writing. You have such a way with words that makes me feel like I watching a movie rather than just reading a story. 👌❤️👌

bangtanboys-hoe said:This may be the bitch in me talking but I would've made her feel like shit. I would move out, block her number, and tell Jimin everything. I would've made her life a living hell hole. But this is just a story and I'm too nice of a person to do that.

Anonymous said:okay first how's your day, how you're doing. And second MIJOO IS SUCH A BITCH NO FUCK FHAT. WHAT HAPPENED TO LOYALTY, OC GAVE UP HER LIVE AND MIJOO DECIDED TO TAKE IT DOE SELF. FUCK JIMIN (I love you jimin) BUT BOTH OF THEM FUCK UP THEIR FRIENDSHIP. I couldn't even enjoy the smut I'm so mad. Plus GOOD JOB ON THE NEW CHAPTER! It's really good! Hope you have a good day :)

Anonymous said:Fuck mijoo AHHSGAHHDH WHY WHY WHY

omg im very overwhelmed by the incredible response to ch 2 of new rules and i feel so bad but i srsly cant answer all of your messages. But the intense reactions this fic inspired is so shocking yet understandable. I just hope you all aren’t too upset and that you can have an open mind for the next chapter ^^

#new rules #jaaneman-s #lu answers

[least-among-hamiltons]

Falsettos Starters (Act 2)

(this didn’t exist so im making it myself)

Falsettoland/About Time

*curtain opens* Homosexuals

Come back in… the welcome mat is on the floor

Let's begin… this story needs an ending

Lovers come and lovers go, lovers fight and sing fortissimo

Give these handsome boys a hand

What a world we live in

Pretty boys are in demand

It's about time to grow up and face the music

We called a truce and fitfully we coexist

So I don't have a psychiatrist except on the Jewish holidays

But I don't have a lover anymore… Oh my G-d, when am I gonna get over this?

It's about growing up, getting older, living on a lover's shoulder, learning love is not a crime… it's about time

Year of the Child

Since this is the last loving thing we'll probably ever do together, let's act adult and not go crazy

It's a lesbian from next door, followed by her lover who's a lesbian from next door too!

The Baseball Game

You’re looking sweeter than a donut

He looks damn good, but he’s cheap as dirt

Even maniacs can charm, which he does, so beware

When he smiles that smile, avoid him, or else sound the alert!

How could I know, without him, my life would be boring as shit?

Please, God, don’t let me make the same mistake!

Would it be possible to see you, or to kiss you, or to give you a call?

A Day in Falsettoland

Could this– oh G-d, don't say it is– could this be the new world we started?

I once thought it was sweet but I don't anymore, now I just snore

Why should I be wilting when their precious love is not in doubt? Work it out!

I don't get it, why can't you let go?

Maybe in a mile, I'll be okay

Everything will be alright

For the first time in months, nobody died

Saving lives, I feel invincible, yes I do

Do you know how great my life is, saving lives and loving you

That's not nice

Where's the heat, where's the fire? Used to be you desire to fight, so fight!

Just give in to bliss and kiss...

Do you know, all I want is you; anything you do is alright, yes, it's alright

Play it raw, don't play pretty; sex and games in [place] have got to be played with flair and passion, and passion and flair

The Fight

I am just a little kid, not a commuter

It's not a wrestling match, why are they sweating?

It's not a funeral, what's so upsetting?

Arguing takes work

You're gonna blame me? You have paintings of dicks, don't talk to me about taste!

Look, I'm calm and self-deluded, grateful, 'cause I hope you'll do what I pray you'll do

What More Can I Say

It's been hot, also very sweet, and I'm not usually indiscreet, but when he sparkles the earth begins to sway… what more can I say?

How can I express how confused am I by our happiness?

If I say I love him, you might think my words come cheap… let's just say, I'm glad he's mine

It's been hot, also, it's been swell; more than not, it's been more than words can tell

I halt, I stammer, I sing a roundelay… what more can I say?

I'll stay calm, untie my tongue

I was taught, never brag or shout; still, it's hot just like how you read about… and also caring and never too uncouth… that's the simple truth

Can you tell I have been revised? It's so swell, damn it, even I'm surprised

We laugh, we fumble, we take it day by day… what more can I say?

Something Bad is Happening

If I'm a bitch, well, I am what I am!

Something bad is happening, something very bad is happening, something so bad that words have lost their meaning!

Rumors fly and tales abound, stories echo underground!

Go ahead and wound my pride

This is fucking ridiculous!

More Racquetball

Let me live, please forgive me for winning one game

Be a jerk, my sweet bruiser, try to be a decent loser, at least you could give me that!

Do you know all I want is you? Anything you do is alright, yes, it's alright, everything will be alright

Holding to the Ground

I smile, I don't complain, I'm trying to keep sane as the rules keep changing

Life is never what you planned; life is moments you can't understand, and that is life

I hold to the ground as the ground keeps shifting, keeping my balance square, trying not to care about this man who [name] loves

Holding to the ground as the ground keeps shifting; trying to keep sane as the rules keep changing; keeping up my head as my heart falls out of sight… everything will be alright

Days Like This

Why, I'm up to my ass in a kosher morass!

Gee, you look awful, I think you need to play some chess

Cancelling the Bar Mitzvah

If you think it's bust then it's probably just as well

We can't be sure when he'll get better; when, or if, he'll ever get better

What we'll do is your decision, there's no right and there's no wrong; just say yes or no and we promise to go along

Why don't we tell him that we don't have the answers, and that life can be grim?

Things rarely go according to plan; tell him things happen for no damned good reason

Unlikely Lovers

Who'd believe that we two would end up as lovers?

Do you want me to reply?

Please don't get morbid

It's just— that I haven't died yet… I'm sick but kicking

I'm staying here in this spot whether you want me to or not… I'm staying

Here I am, by your side, one old horny lover

Please go home and don't be scared

What's the fuss? I'm not scared, what good is a lover who's scared?

Hit me if you need to, slap my face or hold me till winter, oh baby, please do

I love you, too, my lover

Think of me around, sleeping soundly in our bed

[name], did you hear what I said?

Shut your mouth, go to sleep

I can't help but feeling I've failed, let's be scared together; let's pretend that nothing is awful

There's nothing to fear

I love you

Is it a bad time? We'll come back, if it's a bad time, we'll come back… we’ll come in!

Look at us, four old friends, four unlikely lovers

We don't know what time will bring

Gee, we love to eat, and we need something sweet

What a group we four are, four unlikely lovers

And we vow that we will buy the farm, arm in arm, four unlikely lovers… with heart

Let's be scared together, let's pretend that nothing is awful… there's nothing to fear, just stay right here

Who'd have thought that we four would end up as lovers

Another Miracle of Judaism

If you'd kindly allow, how about a miracle now?

Are you just a big psychiatrist or can you make things not happen?

I am not naïve, it won't be easy, but could you please make my friend stop dying

You’ve Gotta Die Sometime

When the doctor started using phrases like "You'll pass away," what could I say?

In plain English, tell me why was I chosen, why me of all men?

Here's the good part, at least death means I'll never be scared about dying again

Let's get on with living while we can and not play dumb, death’s gonna come

When it comes, screw the nerves, I'll be eating hors d'oeuvres

It's the roll of the dice and no crime

Death is not a friend but I hope in the end he takes me in his arms and lets me hold his face, he holds me in his arms and whispers something funny, he lifts me in his arms and tells me to embrace his attack

Then the scene turns to black

Life sucks; people always hate a loser and they hate lame ducks

Screw me and shucks

I quit, that's the ball game; it's the chink in the armor, the unresolved karma, the blues

Can I keep my cool despite the urge to fall apart? How should I start?

I would cry if I could but it does no damn good to explain I'm a man in my prime

Death's a funny pal with a weird sort of talent

He puts his arms around my neck and walks me to the bed

He pins me up against the wall and kisses me like crazy

The many stupid things I thought about with dread now delight

Then the scene turns to white

Give me the balls to orchestrate a graceful leave, that's my reprieve

To go out without care, my head high in the air

It's the last little mountain I'll climb

You’ve gotta die sometime

Jason’s Bar mitzvah

Don't you move, everything will soon be great; close your eyes while we redecorate

I'll unwrap the billion hors d'oeuvres and someone, please, eat them

Lovely, flowers make things lovely, champagne makes things lovely, too

Everything's amiss

Probably, it's doubly useful at a time like this

I feel more helpless than I have in years

Please excuse me if I interfere, but I feel that, since I'm the host it's me who should toast him

We number not that many, actually... we're seven

Maybe it's not dumb the way this whole thing ends

The flowers seem to sparkle, the candelabra sets the tone

The wine is very soothing, soothes the "something, something," someone needed soothing

I think, perhaps, I'm overdressed

I think, perhaps, it doesn't matter

Don't know why but he looks like [name]

You hold my dreams, [name], I burst at the seams 'cause of you

What Would I Do

What would I do if I had not met you? Who would I blame my life on?

Once I was told that all men get what they deserve… who the hell then threw this curve?

There are no answers

Who would I be if you had not been my friend?

When I'm having fun you're the one I wanna talk to

Where have you been?

Where are you now?

Who would I be if I had not loved you? How would I know what love is?

God only knows, too soon I'll remember your faults; meanwhile, though, it's tears and schmaltz

All your life you've wanted men, and when you got it up to have them, who knew it could end your life?

I left [name]... to be with you, to be insulted by such handsome men

Do you regret--?

I'd do it again, I'd like to believe that I'd do it again and again and again...

How am I to face tomorrow after being screwed out of today?

Tell me what's in store

Yes, I'd beg or steal or borrow if I could hold you for one hour more

What would I do if I had not seen you? Who would I feast my eyes on?

Once I was told that good men get better with age… we're just gonna skip that stage

There are no answers but what would I do... no, no simple answers

What would I do if you had not been my friend?

Falsettoland (Reprise)

Homosexuals, women with children, short insomniacs, we're a teeny tiny band

Lovers come and lovers go, lovers live and die fortissimo

This is where we take a stand

Welcome to Faslettoland

#ask meme #i started weeping making this #the last one's only in this for closure

[viralhottopics]

Dear White, Christian Trump Supporters: We Need To Talk

Plenty of pundits keep telling us progressives that we didnt listen to them in the heartland to you of the white working class, to you of conservative Christianity.

Actually, I grew up as one of you. Ive listened to you my whole life, but I dont think I know how to understand you at all.

I suppose now youd consider me part of the so-called liberal elite. Im a west coast university professor with a Ph.D. and almost 30 years of teaching experience. But Im the daughter of a Southern Baptist, working-class pipe fitter at a paper mill in a small, conservative town in northwest Georgia.

My parents did not go to college (my father finally earned a degree after hed retired from the paper mill). Only one of my four grandparents finished high school. I studied hard, got a scholarship, kept studying, kept working, and I moved into the white collar middle class.

My white conservative Christian upbringing had told me that was the American Dream to work hard and succeed. I did, and I feel youre holding it against me now that I no longer share your views. I think you must imagine the liberal elite as East Coast, Ivy League-educated, trust fund babies completely out of touch with how most people live.

Sure, some faculty members grew up with money. Some went to Ivy League schools. But a lot of us professors were you working class kids who did whatever it took to get a college education. Along the way, a lot of us developed progressive ideas, not out of our privilege, but out of our own experiences of discrimination, struggle, and oppression.

We read and argued and wrote and rewrote. We got peer-reviewed, over and over and over. Our ideas are held to incredibly high, rigorous standards, and so, when we speak we do so carefully, thoughtfully, with nuance, and with openness because sometimes we are also wrong. But because weve studied hard and held ourselves up to professional standards, we really do know a lot about what were talking about, and we have something to offer in a real conversation across our differences (including the East Coast Ivy Leaguers who arent as out of touch as you may think). But I dont think you want to hear us or me.

You tell me I need to get over Trumps election and stop being a sore loser. But politics is not a sport. We dont choose teams and simply cheer ours on to victory. My beloved Atlanta Falcons lost the Super Bowl, and, painful though that was, I will get over it. It hurts, but I wont protest, march, write letters, or otherwise resist the outcome, even if we discover New Englands balls were deflated. Its a game, but its not life or death.

This election, however, is exactly that. Perhaps you can tell me to get over it because you do not have to worry that Trump will appoint a Supreme Court justice that could play a role in invalidating your marriage. If Congress passes and Trump signs the First Amendment Defense Act, you probably wont have to worry that a bakery, restaurant, or hotel might legally deny you service. You dont have to worry about being stranded at an airport and refused admission to the U.S. because of the country youre from or the religion you practice. You dont have to worry about having your family divided across the world with a simple signature on an executive order.

You say you are aggrieved because you have not achieved what you think you deserve or you think some less deserving other has taken it. Despite having moved into the middle class, I have spent my career teaching about and advocating for labor unions, a living wage, affordable childcare, social security, affordable healthcare, accessible higher education. Progressives are actually the ones who support the economic programs and policies that could make a difference for the working class.

You have a right to be aggrieved, but I fear you are targeting the wrong people. Low paying jobs, job insecurity, companies moving work overseas, low benefits, little vacation these are the results of decades of policies that benefit the truly wealthy those whose wealth depends not on the labor of their hands but on their ability to exploit the production of poorly paid laborers. The problem is not that immigrants have taken your jobs or drained money from the safety net. The problem is that the system of wealth sets workers against one another so they do not target the real economic power that limits their work and financial security.

You say you want progressives to listen to you. Then prioritize truth. This election was filled with fake news, shared widely on Facebook, and this administration already has begun to create a language of alternative facts to misinform and mislead. If you want to talk, offer evidence, real evidence based on verifiable data and reliable sources, not wishful imaginings or fabricated Breitbart stories. An internet meme is not an informed and legitimate point of argument that facilitates dialogue. Weve reached a point where youd rather believe an overt lie if it supports a belief you already hold than pursue the truth if it might challenge your currently held belief.

The Bible tells us God is a God of truth and the truth will set us free. Yet you chose someone who lies with impunity. I want to understand how you choose to ignore the evidence that is right in front of your eyes photos of the crowds at two different inaugurations, for example. How do you accept what is proven to be a lie? How do you support someone who, rather than correct the record, doubles down on his lies?

Especially, how do you do this in the name of the God of truth? Before the election I saw one of you whod written as an evangelical Christian in support of Trump that God can use anyone. So help me understand why you thought God could use a man whod said hed never asked God for forgiveness, who serially committed adultery, who said he could grab women by the genitals, who cheated contractors and workers, but you didnt think God could use a woman who is a Christian, a lifelong Methodist and who, from the heart, quotes the Bible and John Wesley (when Trump didnt even know how to say Second Corinthians, which he called Two Corinthians, and when asked for his favorite Bible verse struggled to name one until he landed on an eye for an eye. And you know what Jesus said about that one).

I know youve been offended that progressives have called you racist for voting for Trump. I understand that. You dont see yourself as racist. But you did knowingly vote for someone who insulted Latinos, Blacks, Muslims, and Jews. And women. And LGBTQ people. And people with disabilities. Help me understand how that squares with the notion of Gods love for all people.

Can you really imagine Jesus using the words Trump did about these groups of people? How would you characterize voting for someone who is overtly racist? Help me understand how you align your Christian perspective with his racism, misogyny, homophobia, Islamophobia, and antisemitism.

Im afraid that what you want is a nation that conforms to your interpretation of the Bible. Thats where we really run into trouble because that would require you to force your particular conservative Christian beliefs on everyone else. I dont understand how people who want to claim religious liberty for themselves are so unwilling to give it to everyone, which is actually the premise of true religious liberty.

You say you want a Christian nation, but our founders were clear that was never their goal. In fact, the Constitution goes to great lengths to protect the government from religion and religion from government. I also get the sense that you think people are not Christians if they arent Christian in the same way as you. But cant we find some common ground? Cant we agree that all people should be free to practice their religion or practice no religion and should be safe from coercion based on religion? Cant we agree that we share values of love, kindness, respect, and community and then try to live those with each other? Do you really think a Christian, especially a biblical literalist, can want a wall built?

The Bible is clear about how we are to treat foreigners among us no matter how they got here. What if the Egyptians had built a wall before Mary and Joseph fled from King Herod? Our Christian story starts with a refugee family. Can we not practice our shared Christian values with immigrants and refugees coming to our country?

Cant we find common ground on issues like, say, abortion? I think we could have a common goal of lowering abortion rates. After all, you will never end abortions. Maybe you can end the safe, legal ones, but, one way or another, women will still have abortions. They will just be more likely to die from them.

And heres where I think dealing with facts is crucial to find common ground. We know that abortion rates are lower worldwide when there is no global gag order. We also know that what is most successful in lowering abortion rates is access to contraception, accurate sex education, and personal and economic empowerment for women.

To cling to overturning Roe v. Wade as the only way to end abortions is a fantasy based on ideology rather than medical science and social science, and it flies in the face of the evidence for what is successful. So the real question is are you more interested in actual effectiveness in lowering abortion rates or ideological purity? We can lower abortion rates together but not by denying women choices over their own bodies. We can be effective together by listening to the data and working together to ensure all women have access to contraception, education, and social and economic resources. Are you willing to have that conversation?

Ive heard some of you say that well just have to agree to disagree, but thats a problem. You see, were not talking about ideas here. Were talking about actual human lives. If we were talking about predestination or modes of baptism or premillennialism, Id say, sure, lets agree to disagree. The stakes are pretty low. But if were talking about the rights of people to access housing, clean water and air, and healthy food or the possibility of a nuclear arms race or discrimination written into law or women losing basic life-saving health screenings, or young black men being incarcerated disproportionately, or Native peoples having their sacred sites desecrated and their water poisoned, or Muslim people being targeted for their faith, then the stakes are much higher, and I cannot simply agree to disagree.

Thats why Im writing you now. We need to talk, and I dont know how to talk to you anymore. I need to know, is it more important to you to win than to do good? Or can we build coalitions? Listen to science? Rely on real evidence? Be effective? Put the needs and rights of all others above ideologies? Can we live the love of God we claim? You want me to hear and understand you. I get that. I also want you to hear and understand the rest of the world that is not you or your kind. Because they too are Gods people and therefore are in the circle of those whom we must love. You taught me that when I was a child. If we can agree on that now, we have a place to start.

.

Read more: http://huff.to/2lF3xqK

from Dear White, Christian Trump Supporters: We Need To Talk

#Dear White #Christian Trump Supporters: We Need To Talk