#I’m sure I would still love their dynamic if they did explicitly take it down that route

[hephaestuscrew]

“This has both our names on it”: Viewing Fleet and Clara’s relationship in Victoriocity through a queerplatonic lens

TL;DR: By Season 3 of Victoriocity, Fleet and Clara have developed a committed emotional partnership that certainly moves beyond the purely professional. Whilst very much operating as a duo, they can be interpreted as often rejecting or subverting romance-coded elements in their relationship, instead embracing a unique dynamic that can be read as resonating with the concept of a queerplatonic relationship (QPR).

Buckle up because this is over 2,500 words long! If you'd rather read it as a document, you can access it here: Fleet & Clara QPR Google Doc

Disclaimer: I'm not making any claims about creator intent, nor about how anyone else ought to interpret Fleet and Clara's dynamic. It's also worth acknowledging that queerplatonic relationships are inherently defined by the people in them and any attempt to apply such terminology to a story set in 1887 is obviously anachronistic (although whether that should matter when said story also contains a cyborg Queen Victoria is up for debate). 

With that said, if we define a QPR as a committed personal partnership which is not entirely captured by the typical expectations of either friendship or romance but may contain some elements typically associated with either (other definitions of QPRs are available), I enjoy viewing Fleet and Clara's relationship through a QPR lens, and I want to talk about some of the reasons why I think this reading works.

***Spoilers for all three seasons of Victoriocity and the novel High Vaultage***

Detective duos

Even before we actually get into Fleet and Clara's particular bond, detective / crime-solving duos as a general concept have QPR energy to me (which probably predisposed me to this interpretation). It's the Holmes-and-Watson legacy. It's the use of the word 'partner' in a non-romantic context (‘associate’ or ‘companion’ can also serve a similar purpose). It's the intense trust and reliance on each other. It's the sense of being a recognisable pair, always appearing together, known as a duo, with skills and attributes that complement each other. 

Romantic assumptions

Moving on to Fleet and Clara specifically, one aspect of their relationship that can be read through a QPR lens is how they are often in situations where other people believe or imply that there is a romantic relationship between them. Sometimes this is a deliberate strategy of theirs, and sometimes it’s imposed upon them by others. But I’d argue that there’s never a point where they both simultaneously seem entirely comfortable with that romantic narrative for their relationship. Usually one of them will actively deny the assumption or react negatively to the implication:

When Mrs Hampshire interprets Clara and Fleet as a couple experiencing “young love”, Clara might be happy to adopt this as an effective cover story, but Fleet seems unsettled and keen for them not to be perceived this way: “No. No. You’ve misunderstood, we are not, that is to say I am…” (S1E2)

When Warden Hughes assumes Fleet is the new Warden and Clara is the new Warden’s wife, Clara says “I am certainly not”, with emphasis on the ‘certainly’. (S2E2)

Fleet definitely doesn’t sound enthused when he realises Clara has gone for a married couple as their cover story at the Grand Salcombe: “I am sure I’ll regret asking, but by any chance am I [Mr. Theasby?]” (S2E2)

When Titus Byrne tells the pair “I take it you're happy sharing [a room]”, Clara responds with a horrified “What?” (S3E4) (Obviously sleeping in the same room isn’t inherently romantic, but it is often perceived that way.)

Of course, fake dating and external assumptions of romance are very common tropes in romantic will-they-won't-they dynamics, and these moments could definitely be interpreted that way for Fleet and Clara. But I prefer to read these instances as reflecting a different kind of closeness between these two characters. They have a sense of emotional partnership that allows a marriage cover story to seem plausible to others and that other people sometimes automatically assume to be romantic (obviously with some period-typical heteronormativity at play). But to me, it doesn't seem like either of them are fully comfortable with their relationship being perceived in a directly romantic way. Perhaps they are a couple in a different sense…

Proposal via door plate 

The way that Fleet asks Clara to be his business partner has always seemed to me like a platonic version of when people find personal ways to surprise their romantic partner with a proposal:

CLARA: You bought me a door plate for your office? [...] This has both our names on it. FLEET: What do you think? CLARA: I like it. (S2E7)

Fleet could have just asked Clara outright, without going to the trouble of buying a sign that would have been useless if she’d said no. If it was purely a professional business proposition with no emotional meaning behind it, I think he would have just asked verbally. But instead, he gifts her a sign with their two names paired together: Fleet-Entwhistle Investigations. There's something so intimate about that to me: about Fleet asking Clara whether she would like to be a duo with him in a more formally-defined but still non-romantic way; about him choosing to present this offer in the form of a gift; about the way he presents her with their two names joined together etched into metal and asks what she thinks; about the significance that this gesture attaches to their partnership; about him having enough trust that she'll say yes that the effort and vulnerability of presenting her with that sign seem worth it for him. And the gesture means an awful lot to Clara:

She thought about the door plaque he’d had engraved with both their names on it as his way of inviting her to be his business partner – typical Fleet, refusing to tell her so much as his favourite breakfast food and then to go and do something like that. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her. (High Vaultage, p187). 

Anniversaries

In the special episode ‘Murder in the Pharaoh's Tomb', Clara says “And you know what else is a big occasion Fleet? It's our one-month anniversary.” She wants to celebrate the anniversary of Fleet-Entwhistle Investigations. Their partnership holds a significance for her that means key dates associated with it are worth remembering and remarking upon. 

When Clara first mentions their anniversary, Fleet nearly chokes on his drink, which seems like an instinctive reaction to the usually romantic connotations of an anniversary (see my point above about Fleet not being comfortable with their dynamic being perceived as romantic). But when Clara clarifies what she means, Fleet seems much more cheerful about the notion of their anniversary: “Ah, so it has.”

“Miss Clara Entwhistle, my partner”

I get extremely strong QPR vibes from this moment, when Fleet introduces Clara to the sailors at Grave End:

FLEET: This is Miss Clara Entwhistle, my partner - in business, my business partner. CLARA: I'm also his friend, but he doesn't like to say it. (S3 E3)

Fleet and Clara are partners, but not in the way the average person might assume from that word, which Fleet realises mid-sentence here. This is another instance of Fleet reacting negatively to the idea that their relationship might be interpreted romantically (see above). And yet, 'partner' (rather than, say, ‘colleague’) is the word that comes naturally to him in this moment to describe who Clara is to him. He then frantically emphasises the professional element of their relationship so as to avoid the romantic implication, but Clara is keen to proudly assert that there is a personal, emotional aspect to their dynamic too. They are first-and-foremost partners, and they are friends, and they do not want to be seen in a romantic light - this post basically writes itself... 

“Her ridiculous detective.”

When Clara fears for her life at the display of the Lanterns, the narration tells us:

“she thought of her brother, her sister, her parents... Her ridiculous detective.” (High Vaultage, p172) 

The fact that Clara thinks of Fleet in this moment of fear clearly indicates his importance to her, but I think the phrasing of this quote is particularly interesting. The narration lists Clara's immediate family: two of whom are dead (her sister and father), one of whom is publically mourning Clara's life choices (her mother), and only one of whom we have any real evidence of her having a positive relationship with (her brother). And then, separated from these complicated familial relationships by an ellipsis, the narration tells Clara also thinks of Fleet, “her ridiculous detective”. 

Parents and siblings are familial relationships that tend to come with established expectations, in which the use of a possessive pronoun (i.e. her brother) to indicate the relationship is a norm. ‘Detective’ does not fall into this category; unlike ‘brother’, ‘sister’, ‘parent’, ‘friend’, ‘partner’ etc., ‘detective’ is not a word that inherently implies a relationship or that we'd usually expect to see preceded by a possessive pronoun. The idea of ‘her detective’ therefore stands out, giving the sense that there is a unique relationship being indicated here. The way in which Fleet is ‘hers’ is something that Clara has chosen for herself, something that they have shaped together. Who they are to each other can't necessarily be fully expressed using standard phrases that traditionally describe relationships between people. But Fleet is Clara's detective, of which she only has one, and who she'll think of in the midst of “the screaming of the heavens at the end of the world”.

Fleet is also the only one in this list of Clara's loved ones who gets an adjective - her love for him has detail. And while “ridiculous” might often be perceived as negative (it's certainly not a classic romantic endearment), it seems to me like there's such fondness in it in this context: the recognition of and affection for eccentricities, the idea that his importance to her is not (purely) based on his professional strengths but on Fleet as a whole - perhaps at times ridiculous - person.

“Settled”

When Clara and Fleet talk about Clara's mother’s expectations for her, they have this exchange:

"She's still living in hope that one day I'll settle down."  "You're not settled?" asked Fleet. "I am." (High Vaultage, p259) 

By ‘settle down’, Clara's mother of course means ‘marry’, ideally into “at least a minor baronetcy”. But Clara already considers herself "settled", just not in a way her mother would understand or appreciate. She's not looking to "settle down" into a lifestyle other than her current one. She is settled in a situation where Fleet is certainly her closest personal connection in London (and perhaps anywhere), and where the two of them work closely together, operate as a duo, and then go back to their separate homes. And this partnership with Fleet is a comfortable set-up that feels right for Clara exactly as it is, rather than being a precursor to, or a distraction from, the marriage ambitions that her mother wants for her.

I think this exchange also contains an implicit sense of the commitment between the two of them. Fleet wants to check that Clara is ‘settled’ in her current situation, of which working closely - and platonically - with Fleet is obviously a major element; Clara confirms she is. There's a subtle indication of their shared intention to be in this for the long haul.

As a sidenote, Fleet and Clara’s implicit assumption that their partnership is a long-term one can manifest itself in joking contexts as well as serious ones. Look at this exchange from S3E5: 

FLEET: We're not bandits, we're just going to flag it down. CLARA: We'd be terrific bandits! FLEET: Let's just see how our current line of work goes.

I think it’s notable that, in this joking speculation, both Fleet and Clara use ‘we’ and ‘our’. The joke could have been phrased just as effectively if they were imagining only Clara becoming a bandit. But the suggestion is that, if either of them was a bandit, they’d be bandits together. Even if they changed their lives entirely, they'd still approach life together.

Inseparable 

Fleet and Clara have become a nearly inseparable duo in a way which is noticed by others. For example, after Clara and Fleet fall out in High Vaultage, Fleet meets with Keller, who says: 

"You're here with me instead of barrelling across town with her, so I'm just assuming there is some thickheaded puffinry for which you need to apologise to Miss Entwhistle" (p335)

Keller, hardly the most emotionally perceptive man in Even Greater London, automatically infers from the fact that Fleet is on his own that he has had a falling out with Clara, rather than that they just happen to be in different places. When all is well, Keller expects to see the two of them together, whether or not they are in a position to be actively working a case.

Going back earlier in their partnership, Keller makes a similar assumption about Fleet and Clara being inseparable in S2E6. When Clara shouts her name amidst Keller's anti-Vidoc booby traps, Keller asks "Entwhistle? Which means… Fleet?" Again, there's this idea that if one of them is there, the other is likely to be there too - they come as a pair. (It's worth noting that this scene takes place less than two weeks after they first met.)

“Like a friend might?”

At the end of S3E7, Fleet suggests that he and Clara go to the theatre together. It would have been easy for this invitation to have been explicitly framed as a romantic proposition, or even for the nature of the offer to have been left more ambiguous. But Clara says "Archibald Fleet, are you inviting me to a social activity? Like a friend might?" The use of the word 'friend' directly labels this as a platonic interaction. And it's with that platonic lens on it that Clara is extremely excited to spend non-work-related social time with Fleet.

“Maybe it'll just be my good luck charm.”

CLARA: My grandmother's ring, I don't suppose you managed to hold on to it? [...] FLEET: Oh, it's been crushed.. I'm sorry Clara [...] CLARA: No, you keep it. FLEET: What? No... CLARA: Keep it. Maybe it'll remind you not to run towards trains. FLEET: Maybe. Maybe it'll just be my good luck charm.

In S3E7, Clara gives Fleet a ring, which - as a gift from one person to another - is traditionally a symbol of a particular, legally recognised, kind of personal commitment. But when Clara tells Fleet to keep the damaged ring, down in the Underground tunnels after the destruction of the beast and Fleet's latest brush with death, it is quite a different situation to a wedding or a proposal. A married man would traditionally wear his wedding ring on his finger for all to see, but Fleet won't ever wear this ring like that. The ring itself has been bent into a different shape between the wheels of their misadventures, subverting the usual associations of a ring given from one person to another. (In a heteronormative world, those associations are particularly strong when the two people in question are a woman and a man.) 

That ring is not an engagement ring, but it is Clara’s grandmother's ring, an inheritance from the blood family she never really felt she belonged in, now given to the man who might be a very different kind of family for her in London. That ring - with which Clara saved Fleet's life - is a symbol of their bond. And it therefore serves as a reminder for Fleet “not to run towards trains" and as a “good luck charm”. I like to think he'll carry that ring with him, perhaps in his jacket pocket - a little piece of his partner, kept close to his ticking heart…

Thank you for reading all of this!

If you’ve read all of this, I'm assuming you also enjoy the concept of Fleet and Clara as a QPR (unless you're really a glutton for punishment) and that makes me very happy! This was long because there's so much to say about them… And I wrote all of the above without even getting into: the potential to headcanon Fleet and/or Clara as aspec (which I don't think is necessary for QPR headcanons, but which is also fun); Clara's baggage around and discomfort with marriage in general; the speed with which Fleet and Clara become a ride-or-die duo; and the many other demonstrations of care, understanding, trust, respect, and affection between them that didn't feel as directly QPR-coded to me but are nonetheless wonderful. Please do feel free to share your own thoughts!

[theharddeck]

can't unfeel that // Jake Seresin x fem!reader

pairing: hangman x reader (no y/n)

synopsis: jake and his FWB are going strong, totally not developing feelings, totally unaffected and happily still in friends territory...in completely unrelated news, Jake discovers a breeding kink

word count: 8k of smut interspersed with feelings

A/N: This fic is a follow up to kinda might, sorta like, love you a little bit; it’s not necessary to read that first, but it is the dynamic (if you haven’t read it, that’s where Jake discovers choking so it’s a fun time) (also the title is another line from the same song). Thank you to @gigisimsonmars for the inspo and beta-ing, and @laracrofted and @bradshawsbitch for opinions, moral support, and straight up coaching!! 💙

Warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI explicit PiV, unprotected sex, non negotiated breeding kink—friendly reminder this is a work of FICTION oh my god use protection and communicate explicitly with your partner beforehand please please please— f!receiving oral sex, hint on condescension, denied/delayed orgasm, overstimulation…if none of that phases you, there’s also swearing.

This was friend behavior; friends totally go grocery shopping together. 

It definitely wasn’t a big deal that you and Jake were at a Whole Foods, him looking for some kind of weird protein powder while you picked through cartons of blackberries. 

It was absolutely casual that he’d moved into a small house off base, and you were spending the night more often than not.

Your friends with benefits situation was continuing as expected, and the domesticity of it all was not, in any way whatsoever, throwing you off. 

You wrinkled your nose at your reflection in the mirrors over the produce section, wondering who you were convincing. In the mirrors, you saw a man with a child on his hip come up to peruse the bell pepper section, and you stepped aside to give them more room. 

“I’m so sorry to bother, but would you mind?”

You were surprised when the man spoke to you, and you turned to see him sheepishly looking between the rows of bell peppers, and the toddler who wouldn’t let go of her father, her lower lip quivering dangerously each time he readjusted his grip to reach for some vegetables. 

“Of course,” you said, pulling down a produce bag. “What can I grab for you?”

“Actually,” the man shifted the child on his hip, “could you just take her for a minute? My wife sent this massive list and I have like a dozen things I need to get, and it’d just be faster…”

“Oh,” you said, looking at the girl who looked dubiously back at you, trying not to read gender roles and expectations into someone just asking for help. “If it’ll help, sure.” 

“Thank you so much,” the man sighed in relief, handing over the child with little fanfare. The kid looked at you suspiciously, and you settled her onto your hip, not giving her a chance to second guess the arrangement. The man moved quickly down the aisle, pulling out a list to consult and grabbing different vegetables, as you narrated to the child, hoping the steady flow of information would be enough to offset the fact that she was being held by a stranger.

“Did you know,” you told her quietly, “that Brussels sprouts grow on stalks, like almonds? They look like little cabbages, and they’re technically related, I think, but they don’t come out of the ground like that. The pattern they grow in is actually called helical—which I’ve never said aloud until this moment, but it’s the same base word as helix, so I hope I got it right—around the stalk…”

You rambled on as the father continued to dart up and down the aisle, coming back occasionally to drop the bagged produce into the trolley. You heard a familiar footstep on the linoleum, and turned both you and the child towards it. 

“And that man over there,” you told her, smiling conspiratorially as Jake rounded the corner, his boots giving a distinctive cadence to his step, “didn’t believe me when I told him it’s actually Brussels sprouts, with an ‘s’ at the end.”

Jake’s face went on a journey when he found you, then registered that you were holding an unfamiliar child, and his eyes slid over to the father running frantically up and down the aisle. A strange expression settled on his face when he looked back at you, almost frowning, as he walked closer to you. 

“It’s not his fault,” you continued to the toddler, who was watching Jake with open fascination as he approached. “He’s a cretin whose unpopular vegetable of choice is an asparagus.”

“Ha ha,” Jake deadpanned as he stepped beside you, looking between you and the child with that same unfamiliar expression on his face. “What’s this?”

The father chose that moment to reappear, dropping a mesh bag of yellow onions, a carton of fingerling potatoes, a bundle of scallions, and a couple heads of garlic into the trolley, and nodding at Jake before turning back to you.

“Honestly, you’re a lifesaver,” he thanked you fervently, reaching for his kid. She went without complaint, and you briefly envied her unflappability, before you were preoccupied by other things. 

Things like Jake stepping way into your personal space, and leaning forward to brush a kiss on your cheek. You shivered, surprised by the contact, but Jake stared intently at the man’s retreating figure, juggling his daughter and the trolley, either unaware of or unbothered by the heavy gaze following him. 

“What was that?” you asked him, as soon as the man finally rounded the corner. Jake’s nose wrinkled, before he shook his head and stepped out of your personal space. He wasn’t looking at you, but held out the shopping basket towards you, showing a brown envelope labeled Organic Pea Protein on top of the groceries you’d already picked out. 

“I found the powder,” he said, his voice level, and you weren’t sure if you were crazy or if he was suppressing. But Jake didn’t look like he was going to divulge any additional information, so you reached behind you haphazardly, grabbing the first carton of berries your fingers closed on. 

“And I’ve got the berries,” you announced. You checked your selection as you dropped it into the basket, mentally grimacing when you saw you’d picked blueberries.

“You hate blueberries,” Jake said, frowning slightly. 

“Sure do,” you muttered, looking at them, before pasting a smile on your face to look back at Jake. “But we’ve committed at this point. Anything else we need?”

Jake looked at you for a long moment, then shook his head tersely. “Uh, no. No, let’s go.”

You were both quiet as you stood in line to check out, making cordial conversation with the cashier, and then fading out as you carried the paper grocery bags out to the truck. The silence was almost disconcerting, but Jake didn’t seem upset, just like he was focusing intently on something, you weren’t sure what. You were loading the groceries into the backseat behind the passenger door when you realized Jake wasn’t opposite you, and that his bags had already been loaded. You were looking around for him when strong hands closed around your waist, and Jake pulled you to him, closing the door in front of you, before pressing you against the side of his truck. You expected him to turn you to face him, but you braced yourself against the truck when he didn’t, his broad body caging you against the door. 

“Jake?” you asked softly, unsure what he needed, or was looking for, knowing that sometimes it was easier for him to feel you than to tell you. You could feel him drawing in slow breaths from the way his chest expanded against your back, and his hips pressed slightly forward at your soft question.

“Just a sec,” he said gruffly, his voice muffled as he turned his face into your hair. He wasn’t kissing and he wasn’t nuzzling; it just felt like he was grounding himself by touching you, and you knew that, despite trying to convince yourself otherwise by the bell peppers, your heart was in trouble. Because not only only did you not mind, you wish he’d let you do this more. 

You nodded, sliding your hand up the side of the truck so you could rest your face on the back of it, while you waited for him. Jake drew in a couple more breaths, and then his hands on your waist loosened, as he turned you to face him. 

You went easily, arms dropping from the truck to his shoulders, hoping if your presence had steadied him, your touch could do the same. His eyes were stormy, the green of them clouded over by something complicated, something messy, and your hand snuck up from his shoulder to the back of his head, pulling his face down to you. You didn’t kiss him, but you watched his eyes slide closed as you pressed his forehead to yours, and his shoulders dropped slightly. 

“Want to tell me about it?” you asked quietly. 

He didn’t say anything, but you felt him shake his head, his hair scratching your forehead from where it was trapped between you. 

“Want to get out of here?” you asked instead, and this time felt him nod, causing something like pride to well up in your chest, relieved that he’d trust you enough to be able to voice what he wanted.

“Okay, then,” you said, gently as you could, “ let’s go.”

Again, Jake nodded, and you felt his hands tighten on your waist.

“When we get home,” he said, his voice rough, “I’m unloading the groceries. You’re going straight to my bed, changing out of this, and into my old Staubach tshirt.”

Jake didn’t phrase it like a question, but you knew he was asking it anyway, so you nodded. You felt him exhale a long breath against your cheek, like relief, and then he released you suddenly, like he had to do it at once or he wouldn’t at all. 

He stepped away from you to open the passenger door, made sure your feet were tucked in before shutting it, then crossed in front of the truck quickly, pulling the truck out of the lot before his word choice snagged in your mind—home. 

You looked at Jake out of the corner of your eye and he wove the truck in and out of traffic. His eyes were squinted against the bright sunlight, but the expression on his face was unfamiliar to you. His jaw was clenched, and his hands were tight on the steering wheel, and when one dropped to the stick to shift gears, the movement was terse, precise. You wanted to be a more altruistic person, you did, but realistically, something warmed deep in your stomach as you anticipated what that meant for when you got home. 

 When he pulled into the driveway, Jake was out of truck before it’d fully stopped, yanking open your door and turning you to face him, on the edge of the seat. You fumbled to undo your safety belt as his hand on the back of your neck drew your mouth to his, his lips claiming yours in a hungry kiss. 

Your eyes fluttered shut and you reached a hand up to his jawline to steady yourself as he pressed you back against the seat. He kissed you hard, heavy, and you knew there was something he was saying that he wasn’t telling you, but you couldn’t quite read it off his lips. His mouth moved hungrily over yours, then he pulled himself back, pressing chaste kisses on the corners of your lips, your chin, across your cheekbones. 

“Upstairs,” he said, his voice low. “Be ready for me.”

The heat that had been curling in your belly since the parking lot fanned into a flame in his words, and you nodded mutely. Jake helped you out of the cab of the truck (a couple more kisses and a smidge more of that voice, and you probably would’ve slid off the seat), and you walked on unsteady legs towards the house. 

Upstairs, you rooted through Jake’s pajama drawer, looking for the worn navy tshirt he’d requested. You could hear the refrigerator door opening and shutting as Jake shuffled groceries around the kitchen, and you stripped unceremoniously, before pulling the tshirt over your head. The material felt soft, the hem falling just to the tops of your thighs. Jake’s footsteps sounded on the stairs and you darted over to the bed, perching on the edge of it as he came into the room. 

At the sight of you, something softened in his demeanor. 

His shoulders lost some of their tension, even as he pulled in a deep breath, looking at you. Your thighs pressed together as you fought the urge to squirm under the intensity of his gaze, no less unsettling for its familiarity. He noticed, of course, his eyes darting down to your thighs, and an almost-smile growing on his lips.  

He walked into the room slowly, each step measured, and by the time he made it to the bed you were practically vibrating with need. To hear his voice, to feel his touch, to know you’d generated some kind of reaction from him, while you sat fidgeting. 

Jake stopped in front of you, running a finger along the neckline of the shirt, and you couldn’t help but lean towards him. 

“Thank you.”

He said it quietly, and it surprised you. You weren’t sure if he meant for changing, for waiting, for understanding that he couldn’t say whatever it was, but as you met his eyes as he stood over you, you nodded an unspoken ‘you’re welcome’. 

Jake’s hand trailed down the front of the tshirt, his touch warm even through the cotton. His fingers stalled when he reached your breasts, his thumbs passing languidly over you as he confirmed you weren’t wearing anything underneath. Your nipples hardened under his teasing touch, light and unhurried, even as his eyes darkened. 

“So good for me,” Jake murmured, and his hands dropped farther. He tapped the tops of your thighs and you opened them obediently. There was no pretense here, no point in pretending his words and his authority didn’t affect you. As you parted your legs, Jake sank to his knees beside the bed, his eyes flashing as he bent level to your hips.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, his warm breath ghosting over you, the endearment falling from his lips like it was natural, even if it was only when you were like this, “is this for me?”

He pressed a feather-light kiss to your core, his tongue darting out between his lips to taste you and you knew what he meant—you were already glistening with arousal. Jake’s fingers came up to grip your thighs and he inhaled deeply as he spread your legs farther, sending a flush of color across your chest. You always felt desired with Jake, but sometimes it felt carnal, the way he needed you to fill all his senses. 

Another light kiss, another sweep of his tongue, tantalizing promises and teases for the both of you. You leaned back on your hands, braced on the bed, as Jake’s gentle touches continued. It wasn’t at all what you’d expected, this soft exploration, and your hips lifted towards him, asking for more. 

He pulled back.

You whimpered at the loss of his mouth, looking down to see him licking his lips. Jake’s chin was wet, shining with your arousal, and he’d barely touched you. 

“Jake…” you started, your body canting towards him, but his hands on your legs stilled you. 

“Asked you a question,” he mumbled, holding your eyes while he leaned in to place another chaste kiss on your cunt. His lips closed over you, his tongue curled against you, and you trembled at the dark look in his eyes. 

“Yes, fuck,” you breathed, and Jake sucked where his lips had sealed, a reward. “All for you, Jake, only you.”

He hummed, the vibration causing your head to fall back as he placed another maddeningly controlled kiss on your core. He lapped at you slowly, pulling your arousal into his mouth, savoring your taste, taking his time. You realized you were trembling, your body shaking as Jake took what he desired, finding his pleasure between your thighs. 

He kissed you, again, again, a soft trail up to your clit. When he rolled his tongue over that tight mound, your arms gave out, one of your hands tangling into his hair while you fell back to your other elbow. 

Jake chuckled against your core. 

“Need something, sweetheart?” he asked, licking a long stroke up your cunt. Your back arched and you cried out as Jake smirked into you, his tongue circling your clit. “Use your words.”

“More,” you gasped, your hips bucking into his touch. “Please, Jake, I need more.”

“More?” Jake asked, his voice low, and his teeth brushed over your clit as he sucked. You moaned, and Jake soothed you with more light kisses before you felt him shifting. A moment later, a thick finger traced along your folds, and you nodded feverishly. 

“Please,” you begged, “I need—”

“Oh she needs, does she?” Jake mused, and you whimpered as he pulled back. You felt his cheek press against your thigh as he watched his fingers pulling through you. He spread you with his hand, holding your folds apart so he could lick deeply into you. The pressure of his tongue, the sureness of his touch, it felt so good, but it wasn't anywhere near enough.

And he knew it, the asshole.

“Yes, please, I—” you broke off with a yelp when Jake pinched your clit. He leaned in to soothe it with another frustrating kiss, but your body echoed with the throbbing pulse. 

“Most people would be grateful to have their man on his knees, wouldn’t they?” Jake said, his voice muffled as his lips trailed over your core, but the teasing derision still present, sending a tremor through you. “But not you, hmm, honey? You want more.”

Your breath caught at his words; surely he hadn’t meant to say your man. 

He wasn’t yours like that, hot as it was for him to say it…but the illusion of it was enough to set your reeling. You looked down at him—hair mussed from your fingers, pupils blown wide from your taste, shoulders panting as he chose between air and more of you—and this afternoon you liked the idea of him being yours. 

“Greedy, greedy girl,” Jake chastised softly, when you didn’t correct him, but if you closed your eyes, you could pretend there was a fondness hiding in the gentleness of his voice. 

He thrust two fingers into you.

You arched off the bed, a wail falling from your lips as Jake curled his fingers inside of you. 

“And I take care of you, don’t I,” he said, kissing your cunt sloppily as his fingers worked in and out of you. “Every damn time, satisfy this needy pussy, this fucking perfect cunt.” 

The stretch of his fingers, the wet drag of his tongue, the dirty sting of his words, washed over you and you moaned as he wrecked you. 

“Yes, Jake,” you practically whined. “You’re so good, you feel so good, please—”

“That’s right,” Jake gritted, his fingers working faster. He thrust into you, stroking your walls and kissing it better with his warm mouth. You felt your thighs shaking and heat building in your center and you didn’t remember falling back onto the bed, but you didn’t remember anything other than the torturous, teasing, all consuming need that Jake was stroking between your legs. 

“Fuck, honey, squeezing me so tight,” Jake panted. “You gonna cum for me? After all that needing, you gonna let me make you feel good? Come on, sweetheart, let me have it; it’s mine.” 

His fingers continued stretching you, thrusting into you with perfect, intoxicating, precision and Jake leaned closer to your core again. His nose brushed against your clit before his lips closed around it, sucking messily, and you felt the building pressure inside of you shatter. 

You heard yourself sobbing like something in a dream, distant and echoing, but all you could feel was the tremors wracking your body, and Jake’s tongue pulling you through it. 

“Pretty girl,” Jake was murmuring between kisses. “You’re so damn beautiful, all the time, but when you come for me it’s something else. You did so good, sweetheart, so good, and you taste like fucking heaven…”

You whimpered as your head cleared, pulling weakly at his hair as he continued to kiss your sensitive core. 

Jake continued to lap up your release, unrelenting, unsatiated, and you both groaned when he eased a finger back into you. 

“How we doing, sweetheart,” he asked, and when you opened your eyes, he was watching you carefully. You realized he was holding his finger still inside of you, and it was your hips pulling him into you, rocking into his hand. 

“Good,” you whispered. 

Jake nodded, and his finger curled. “That’s my girl.”

His words soothed over you, and you felt them settle warmly over your skin, the same as when he’d called himself your man. It was probably pheromones, nothing more, but God it was a lovely thought. 

“Sweetheart…” Jake’s voice was quiet, dangerous. “You know what that look does to me.”

This was happening more often than not, little moments where you wished for more, and Jake had to remind you that that wasn’t the deal you’d both agreed to. You clenched your eyes shut again, trying to make it go away. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled. 

When you looked at him again, Jake’s forehead was pursed in a frown, and he shifted his weight to climb up onto the bed. He lowered himself over you, his hard body pressing over your soft one, and his mouth found yours. He kissed you and you tasted yourself on his tongue, even in the gentle insistence of this kiss. 

Jake pulled back, his lips trailing along your jaw, your neck. 

“Don’t apologize, honey, please don’t,” he whispered against your skin. “I can’t…please don’t.”

And you pressed your lips tightly together to trap the words, but when he pulled back to look at you, you knew you couldn’t look, not without showing him what he didn’t want to see. You could feel him watching you carefully, gauging your reaction as he added another finger inside of you. He groaned when you clenched around him, his hips rocking into you slowly as yours spread wider, to cradle him. 

“Feels good, Jake,” you gasped, loving the weight and motion of him.

He sucked on your neck, nibbling lightly and letting go as he rocked into you again. “Why’d you have to do that,” he mumbled into your collarbone, “look at me like that, then tell me it feels good. Makes me want to keep you, honey.”

Your hips stuttered against his, even as you knew he didn’t mean it, he couldn’t. Before you could ask and before he could take it back, he surged up to kiss you again. There was something almost frantic in his kiss, desperate enough that you knew this was it, whatever had gotten into him back at the grocery store. 

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, pulling his fingers out of you, settling his hands on your waist, squeezing tightly to orient himself. His face was buried in your neck, hiding, even as his clothed hips rutted harder against you. 

“Tell me what you need,” you asked, one of your hands coming up to card through his hair. He shivered, this enormous pilot, shivered at your words and your touch. He pulled back to look at you again, carefully, for a long moment. 

The afternoon sun was fading, and he looked golden in your arms, crouched above you. He hadn’t pushed your hand from his hair, and you smiled when he moved his head, adjusting where you were scratching him, working up the gumption to say whatever it was he needed.

“Can we pretend?” he asked at last, his voice holding something almost vulnerable. “I…maybe I can explain it later. But for now, can we just pretend?”

You didn’t know what he meant, but, irrationally, you trusted him anyway. If this was what he needed, and you could provide it, then you would. You nodded, and he let out a slow breath, nodding back. Beyond that, he didn’t move, looking almost uncertain with what to do next, so you pushed at his shoulders lightly. 

“Let’s start here, yeah?” you prompted, pulling his shirt over his head. 

Jake helped you, shifting to his side so you both could work on getting his pants off. Then he was in his boxer briefs, and you were in his shirt, and then he pulled that off of you too. The air was thick for a moment as you lay looking at each other, waiting. 

You ran a hand down his chest, over the smooth skin and coarse hair, thickening as you trailed lower. You brushed your fingers over his length, straining against his underwear, and looked back up at him through your lashes. 

“Don’t you want to fuck me, Jake?” you asked softly. He nodded, eyes closing as you ran your hand over him again. 

“More than that,” he whispered.

He felt good in your hand, hot and thick, and you watched the outline grow as you waited for him to finish the thought. 

You felt him brush some of your hair out of your face, before he said quietly, “Want to get you pregnant.”

You froze.

When you looked back up at him, Jake was watching you closely and your heart felt like someone had it in a chokehold because that was what he’d meant by pretending?? You’d mentally prepared for some variety of roleplay, maybe even an admiral or rank kink, but this? You, just with a future together?

While your mind was screaming that it was unintentionally cruel, your body was sighing that it was so. Damn. Hot. 

You had an IUD so it wasn’t a possibility, but the fantasy was admittedly one that sent a pulse of need straight through you.  

“Color,” Jake asked softly, and you bit your lip. 

If you said no, he’d be apologetic, probably fix you a bath or go downstairs, give you some space while he fixed something from the grocery run earlier. You’d eat together, pretend it hadn’t happened, and he’d help you get back to base, whatever you needed. Unless what you needed was to be here with him, like this, only not pretend. 

It was that simple, wasn’t it: there was no way you were walking unscathed away from knowing how Jake fucked you when he wanted a future with you. 

But you looked at him, into his soft eyes that were waiting for you, hoping for you, and there was only one word in your mind. 

“Green,” you whispered. 

Jake’s eyes closed. 

The hand that had brushed your hair away settled on your neck and he pulled you to him. 

“Thank you,” he said, and before you could process that, he kissed you. 

This kiss was different. 

It wasn’t possessive, it wasn’t hungry. It was almost tender. It was gratitude, honest and insistent, pressed against your lips as Jake thanked you for something he had no way of knowing you wanted.

It was too gentle, but when you tried to deepen it, Jake held back, soothing you with soft caresses. His hands were light on your shoulders, your waist, the side of your face, embracing you with more than just his kiss. You melted into it, the gentle slide of his mouth against yours, his sweet taste, the strength of his arms around you. Jake kissed you until he felt you trust him with it, and then he rolled you both over.

He settled over you, his long body draping over yours, and you wanted to melt into the bedspread. Your arms were wrapped around him, pulling him closer to you, and one of your hands ran over his stomach to slip into his underwear. You hummed into Jake’s kiss as your fingers wrapped around his cock, warm and heavy in your hand, and his hips pushed further into your grasp.  

“Honey, hold on—” he muttered against your lips, but you shook your head. His touch was too good, there was too much unspoken, and if you let the tenderness fester unchecked, you weren’t going to be able to handle this. 

You could lean into this, you could do it. You slid your hands around his back, pushing his boxer briefs down to his thighs before your hand returned to his cock. You knew he always got a little worked up when he went down on you, and as you stroked your hand over him, precum beaded on the tip of his cock. 

“Waited long enough, Jake,” you whispered, “want you to fill me.”

Jake drew in a sharp breath at your words, and he nudged your chin with his nose, moving your face so he could kiss up your neck. His mouth was more desperate than focused; you knew he’d leave marks and you tried not to think about why you wanted him to. You shifted under him, moving to guide his cock towards your entrance, brushing against your thighs, slicked with his spit and your orgasm. 

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, words muffled against your neck, a warning and a promise as you ran his cock through your folds. “You’re so warm and I’m not even in you yet.”

“Want to feel you,” you told him, wishing your voice was wrecked because he’d asked you to pretend, not because the thought of him having you like this sent your head spinning. 

“I know, honey,” Jake said, voice low. “Just give me a sec.”

You could hear his breathing, measured like he had to count it, like it was overwhelming for him too. You licked your lips as you lined him up with your core. 

“Come on, Jacob,” you cooed, letting go of his cock and running your hands up his side, settling under his shoulder blades, “don’t you want to breed me?”

“Fucking hell,” Jake swore, and his hips slammed forward. 

Your head fell back as he shoved his cock into you, stretching you, deep and hot and sudden. You whimpered his name as your body ached in the most delicious way, stuffed, full. 

“What’d you think would happen, honey,” Jake said, his voice hoarse, but his tone sharp. His arms caged around you, and he pushed off the bed to pull out slowly.

The drag of his cock through your cunt was devastating, but not half as much as the look on his face, when you opened your eyes. 

Fuck, he looked so good.

Sandy hair in his eyes, expression strained as he held his body in check, his eyes blown wide with desire. His head dropped when he pulled nearly out of you, just the tip still in you, and you felt yourself clenching down on him, needing him. His lowered head draped his dog tags against your chest, the cold metal causing you to gasp. 

Jake chuckled, a rumble of a laugh, and the tags dragged across your chest, then trailed up your neck as he leaned forward while he pushed back into you. You looked down your body, down to where his thick cock, shining with your joint arousal, was pressing back into your entrance.  

“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” Jake said, and you looked up at him. “That’s right. Look at me while I feed you my cock.”

You whimpered, every impulse telling you to close your eyes, let your head fall, focus only on the stretch of his cock and your body adjusting to him. But you let your eyes burn as you looked up at him, and Jake almost smiled. 

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Beautiful girl, doing so good for me.”

Your nails raked up his back as he bottomed out in you. He felt so deep, like you could feel his heartbeat, or maybe that was just the way his chest was pressed up against yours. It felt like every inch of your body was connected to his, melting into him, as Jake waited for you to adjust. His eyes darted over your face, watching you carefully, and it warmed you just as much as his body over yours. 

“Need you to move, Jake,” you gasped, when you were ready. “Need to feel you move.”

“We’re back to need, are we?” Jake asked wryly, but he rolled his hips, pushing deeper into you before pulling himself back out. He thrust back into you, your body accepting him, craving the push and pull and the fullness of him. Jake set a steady pace, deep and thorough and you felt like every time he pressed into you it was too much, and when he pulled out, like you needed him all the more for it. 

So, yeah, you were back to need. 

“Fuck, those sounds you’re making,” Jake groaned. “You sound so good, sweetheart, I could come just from hearing you.” 

You hadn’t even realized you were whining, each thrust of Jake’s hips punching sounds out of you. A layer of sweat coated his skin, soothing the abrasion of his chest hair as he moved over your and the juxtaposition of it all—his words, his cock, his sweat, his chest—clouded your mind so all you could do was keep making whatever noises he pulled from you.

“But not today, huh?” Jake continued, pushing back into you. “Not today, because today’s not just about getting us there, is it, it’s about fucking filling you.”

You moaned at his words, nodding desperately, feeling yourself clenching him tighter at his words. God, you wanted to feel that, wanted to feel him. 

“‘s that what you want, baby?” Jake gritted, his hips slamming forward. “To be so full of me, with my seed, not just when I can give it to you like this. Fuck, you’d always have me in you, wouldn’t you, carrying me.” 

You felt yourself sliding up the bed, being pushed up by the force of his thrusts. You reached back for the headboard, finding it closer than you’d expected, pushing back to meet Jake, and he moaned.

“That’s right, sweetheart, push yourself back on this cock. You need that don’t you, to milk it till you’re full of me?”

You cried out as you nodded, needing that, just like he said. Jake swore under his breath, reaching down to rearrange you. He pulled your legs out from your hips, hooking his elbows under your thighs and easing into you again. 

“Jake, fuck,” you groaned, the new angle pushing him impossibly deeper. Pleasure curled hot in your core, stoked higher by the friction of Jake’s thrusts. Your body was still sensitive from your first orgasm, but his cock and his words had you hurtling towards that precipice again, sooner than you could’ve imagined. 

“You too, sweetheart,” he gritted, but he couldn’t know, couldn’t feel this as much as you did. 

“Jake,” you whimpered. “I’m want to come, please—”

“No,” Jake gasped, and your eyes flew open. His jaw was slack, his eyes hooded, but his expression was intense as he looked down at you. His mouth opened slightly when he pressed deeper into you again, but he gained control when he pulled back, your body protesting the loss of him. 

“No?” you echoed, and he shook his head. 

“We have to time it right,” Jake murmured, his cock shoving back into you, “if we want this to stick, honey, you have to come with me.”

Your eyes rolled back, at his words or from the steady press of his cock. “Jake—”

“Count us down, sweetheart,” Jake said, voice stern. He braced his hands on either side of you, his arms shaking as he held himself in check, but his expression steady. “I’ll get us there, but you tell me when you need it.”

Fuck, you were pretty sure you could come just then, if he told you to. But you bit your lip and nodded, rewarded by a slow push as Jake rolled his hips into you. 

“Ten…” he prompted.

“Ten,” you repeated, not sure if you could make it that long. Jake pulled back as he stroked out of you, and you heard him spit a moment before a cool wetness covered your clit. 

“You look so beautiful,” Jake whispered, his thumb brushing over your clit. “God, how unreal you’re going to look carrying my child.”

“Nine,” you gasped, your vision blurring as his finger worked over you.

“Fuck, with your stomach all round,” Jake broke off as he thrust into you sharply, “filled, carrying my child...”

His thumb moved in a circle with delicious, maddening pressure, and you moaned as his words settled over you. “Eight.”

“These tits,” Jake leaned forward, his shoulders pressing your thighs flat against the bed and his mouth closing over your breast, messily kissing you, “they’ll be fucking swollen, won’t they, as you get ready to nurse our child.”

Your back arched off the bed as his tongue worked over you, mirroring the motion of his thumb. His mouth was wet and warm and perfect, and heat pulsed through your body. You could feel everything and you keened as you tamped it down, knowing you had to wait. 

“Seven,” you managed, and Jake hummed, you could feel it. 

“So soft, swollen, and all full of milk,” Jake mumbled, switching to the other breast. “And when you’re aching and sensitive, I’ll be there for you—bet you’ll taste so sweet like that, won’t you, darlin’.”

The thought of nursing Jake was stunning, and you moaned when you realized he was sucking at you, nipping and miming milking your breasts. You felt your body tighten, your toes curling and you shook your head against the pillow. 

“Six; I’m not going to—”

“You’ll make it,” Jake soothed, releasing your breasts and shifting back, returning his attention to your clit. “You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart, I know you can do it. Just a little longer, have to make sure you’re ready for me.”

“Five,” you gasped, “I’m ready, Jake, please–”

Jake pressed more firmly on your clit, stealing your words as your breath caught. “I don’t know, honey—you’re doing so good for me, but it’s a big fucking load. That’s what you need, that’s what I need, so much fucking cum, to get my girl pregnant.”

You could only moan, surrendering to the feelings and emotions he was caressing out of you. Your skin felt white hot, and you could feel your legs trembling; it was only a matter of time before you lost control entirely. 

“Four,” you whimpered, and Jake thrust into you again. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he soothed, his own voice tight as he fought off his orgasm. “You’re milking my cock so good, honey, can you feel it? Feel how hard you make me, how bad I need you, how I need to fill you?”

His rhythm faltered as his pace sped up, his cock plunging into you. Jake grunted at the top of every thrust, a sound of deep satisfaction that curled through you, gave you strength you didn’t know to hold off, to wait for him, to do it together. 

“Three,” you cried.

“That’s it, sweetheart, because I do need to feel you, need to fill you, pump till you’re full of me and see me dripping out of my pretty cunt. Christ, you feel so good, you’re so good, how are you—”

Jake broke off, his hips slamming into yours, his cock reaching a place that had you seeing stars. Your eyes rolled back and you reached for him blindly, anchoring yourself with a hand in his hair, the other closing around his dog tags, moving with him as he thrust over you. 

“Two,” you moaned.

“Almost there, sweetheart,” Jake groaned. “Almost there, almost time for me to fuck a baby into you. Fuck, you’ll be such a good mama, won’t you, so smart and beautiful and glowing when you’re carrying my child, all contented because I gave you everything, always will, and you can’t leave then, not with my seed—tell me you’re close, honey, are you almost there?”

“Jake,” you wailed, your count forgotten as your body trembled, his words closing around your heart like a vice. Jake’s pace was bordering on erratic, rhythm lost, his sweat dripping down to your joined bodies every time his hips met yours. 

“Gonna give you a baby,” he gritted, “but you have to come with me, come with me now, please, fuck, sweatheart—” 

Jake came with a shout, hoarse and sharp and he pressed his hips into you. He pulsed inside of you, his hips shuddering, and you could feel his cum streaming into you, hot and deep and what you needed. His head dropped to your chest as his body loosened with his release and you felt your orgasm break over you, like a thousand fuses lit at once.

The room swam, blinding light and senseless heat, pulsing over your skin like a heartbeat, and your awareness was distilled to him—Jake. 

Jake’s beautiful groan when he finished, echoing around in your head, the holiest sound you’d ever heard. 

Jake’s hips stuttering weakly against yours, thrusting even after he’d cum, like he couldn’t stop. 

Jake’s voice, hoarse, whispering words you couldn’t discern, phrases you must’ve heard incorrectly, promises pressed against your skin. 

Jake’s hands, shaking with the force of his orgasm, but smoothing over your skin, checking you, soothing you. 

The light faded and you fell back into yourself, into your wrung out body, drenched in sweat and pleasure. The room felt hazy, heavy, and you realized Jake had matched his breathing to yours. You reached down, pushing the sweat-dampened hair off his forehead, smiling reassuringly when he looked up at you. 

You could see it on the tip of his tongue, wanting to ask if you were okay, but he held it back, and you watched him shut down the part of him that was nervous about what had just happened. 

“Hi,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. 

“Hey,” Jake said back, clearing his throat. “Um, I can get a towel—”

“Can we stay?” you asked, hoping it didn’t sound too desperate. You just needed a minute, just a moment to bask in the warmth of what you’d pretended to feel, before your mind could catch up enough to pretend it away.    

Jake hesitated for a moment, before nodding, and gently rearranging your legs, laying them down beside him before he shifted onto his back, pulling you with him. You went easily, resting on his chest and drawing a deep breath, thankful for the borrowed moment. 

He probably wasn’t pulling out to avoid making a mess, knowing a washcloth was far away, but you could almost imagine it was because he craved the closeness as much as you did. 

As you settled against his chest, one of Jake’s hands came up, absently running up and down your arm. You thought it had to count for something, the ‘friends’ part of ‘friends with benefits’, so you steadied yourself before you asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jake’s hand stilled, then resumed its slow brushing as he petted you. You knew he knew what you meant—you weren’t asking about the sex, you were asking about before.

“Not really,” he said quietly. 

You’d expected as much. “Okay.”

Jake’s fingers drummed against your arm, and the room was quiet again. The sun was setting, casting the room in an orange light, like the inside of a lamp. 

“I mean, if you want to, we can,” he hedged, after a minute. 

You scoffed. “That doesn’t mean much; I always want to talk with you.”

Shit. 

The words had slipped out before you could stop them, and you squeezed your eyes shut, wishing you could take them back.

“We can ignore that,” you mumbled, and Jake chuckled softly, before sobering.

“If I tell you why,” he said, “can we ignore that, too?”

Ignoring and pretending, how you’d always expected falling in love to be. 

Even though no one could see you, you rolled your eyes at yourself, and your malaise. You nodded into Jake’s chest, knowing he could feel it. 

His hand was back to stroking your arm, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. 

“You kinda looked like that kid,” he said. 

Your heart stopped. 

“What?” you managed.

“At Whole Foods,” Jake said, “when you were holding that little girl. I just came around the corner and it was like…like I saw a whole parallel life, one where someone married you, gave you kids. And I’d just walk by you in a grocery store, without knowing. Hell, even knowing, you looked like a family, like you fit together, like…”

He trailed off and your head physically ached as your mind whirred, processing his words. “Jake, she didn’t look anything like me.” “Her hair was similar,” he continued, a stubborn lilt to his voice, and you knew he wasn’t looking to be reasoned out of this. 

“Okay,” you said, wetting your lips, waiting for Jake to finish the thought.

Only he didn’t. 

He simply lay there, with you, his hand moving gently up and down your arm, seemingly content.

“So you decided you wanted to roleplay us getting pregnant?” you prompted, when it became clear that he wasn’t going to say anything else. 

Jake sighed. “I hated it.”

You jolted at his words. “What?”

“Shit no, sweetheart, not that,” Jake said hurriedly. “Not what we—no, are you kidding, that was so damn hot—I meant seeing you in the store. With him. And holding her. It…I don’t know, it made me mad it wasn’t me.” 

You pulled in a sharp breath, trying to find a platonic way to interpret that. 

You could feel your heartbeat in your temples, so loud you couldn’t think, much less rationalize and you pushed yourself off of his chest. Your hips ached as you spread them again, settling your knees on either side of Jake as you looked down at him, still joined. Jake’s expression was guarded, but he let you look, shifting his shoulders on the pillows but meeting your eyes. Without your arm to stroke, his hand fell to the top of your thighs and resumed its motion there; you could tell the silence was making him nervous. 

Well, that made two of you.

“I need you to be so fucking honest with me, Jake Seresin,” you said, proud of the way your voice was steady. “What does that mean?”

A hundred emotions flashed across Jake’s face before you could name them, and then he pushed himself up, settling you firmly on his lap as he brought his eyes level to yours. 

“It should be me,” he said, “not with a kid, per se, and not just in Whole Foods, but people should look at us and see we fit.” 

And then he kissed you.

For a moment, you were frozen. 

This couldn’t be happening. 

It had to be a weird, sex-induced dream where Jake told you he was jealous of an absolute stranger, jealous enough to admit he had something dangerously close to feelings for you. 

But even as alarm bells sounded in your head, you knew this wasn’t a dream. 

Because your body was sore in a very real way, the man in front of you was flushed, his fingers digging into your thighs with nervous tension, and he was kissing you carefully, so carefully, like he could pull back at any moment if you told him to.

Like hell. 

You leaned into him, your hands wrapping around the back of his head to pull him closer to you. You felt him relax, felt his shoulders loosen and his arms wind around your waist, pulling your body flush against him. And this kiss was new, it was different, it was excitement and a little bit of embarrassment, at the foolishness of waiting so long. 

You broke away, panting, and Jake rested his forehead against yours, his chest heaving. In the orange light, he looked gilded, too good to be true, like maybe he was Midas but you didn’t care if your skin turned to metal, so long as he didn’t stop touching you.

His long lashes fluttered, and your heart flipped at what you read in his green eyes as he opened them. 

“Jesus, Jake,” you muttered, teasing, “you could’ve just told me you wanted to go steady.”

He chuckled, a warm low sound that you felt shake his body at the old-fashioned phrase. 

“Yeah,” he said, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple, “but then we would’ve never discovered you had a breeding kink.”

Your jaw dropped and you pulled back, sputtering. “Excuse me—” 

“I know, I know,” Jake shook his head, grinning, incorrigible. “But admit it: you loved it.”

You snapped your mouth shut, trapping the response that threatened to bubble out, words you hadn’t dared think, much less speak, before this moment. Jake looked at you, at your pressed-together lips and eyes that always said too much, and his smile softened. 

“I know,” he said again, quietly, and he kissed you gently. Jake’s arms were tight around you and you leaned into him, letting it—whose kink it was, what you loved, what he knew—all go, knowing there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

//

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[onlyhereforthestories]

Broken Bones Fix Hearts (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

In honour of game day here is and Alexia fic. I hope you all enjoy and let me know what you think!

The last few weeks had been hard. After Alexia broke up with you, you had found it difficult to not let it affect you at training. The girls on the team knew there was something wrong but you were sure they didn’t know what. You had both never explicitly come out to the team as a couple, you didn’t so much hide it but also had never confirmed it.

What the team could see was that the normally happy go lucky, attached at the hip nature of your twos relationship had changed. You no longer turned up to training together, you no longer partnered up in drills with one another and you didn’t constantly tease each other like you used too. What you did do was ignore each other’s presence and avoid one another as much as humanly possible.

The weeks break from games meant extra training, and extra training meant more time for the girls to get confused as to what in the hell happened to the two of you. Jenni had asked Alexia and got a very stern its none of her business in response, and Aitana had asked you only to receive a similar sentence of you don’t want to talk about it.

The main issue with this was when two of the co-captains didn’t get on the teams dynamic and flow was effected, and if the flow was effected then the games were effected. So far you had only had training since it happened but it was game day tomorrow and you were nervous.

Athletico Madrid were not an easy team to beat and they were a physical team, these were the games you least liked playing in. You were always so sure you were going to end up with bruises and you knew if the team were struggling with the dynamic that would only be worse. So that morning after your pre match coffee you made your mind up that you were going to talk to Alexia before the warm up and see if you could at least get out of this awkward funk.

With a plan in mind you made your way to meet the rest of the team and get on the coach ready to take you to the stadium.

You were slow to put on your boots, you knew Alexia liked to be last out. When you were dating you used to wait for her to get a good luck kiss before the game, you were no longer faced with that situation but a completely different one.

Jenni was the last to leave and as soon as she did you were calling your ex-lovers name. “Alexia, can we talk for a minute?” The woman froze in place but turned to face you fairly quickly.

“Si but quickly.” You could tell she knew what this was about but you were just grateful she was going to hear you out.

“We need to get to some sort of balance. The team is suffering because we are going through something and I hate that I’m letting my personal life effect my work, and I know you so I know you hate it too. Things happen and for some reason we didn’t work, but on that pitch we do. We did before and we will again today because we are stronger as a team.” You didn’t look away from the woman once, you wanted her to see you meant every word of what you were saying.

“We are. I’m sorry I’ve just been in my head and I shouldn’t have let that affect our professional relationship. Ready to go and kick some Athleti butt?” You smiled for the first time since she ended things. With a quick nod of your head you ran out of the changing rooms with the woman you still loved hot on your heels.

The match was brutal, you seemed to be on the floor more than standing so far and it had only been 30 minutes. You could see some of your teammates getting annoyed with the amount of fouls occurring and you could see Aitana and Alexia particularly getting pissed off when you were brought down time and time again.

You were baring down on goal, the ball just out in front of you. You could hear the sound of a defender running behind you but you knew you just needed one touch to get the ball out from under you so you could shoot. So you did just that, you touched the ball with the inside of your left foot to set up a right footed shot and as you powered your right boot through you felt the defender catch up with you.

Pain was all you could feel, you could hear the cheering of the crowd but you weren’t paying attention to that. Your head throbbed and your left ankle was burning with pain. Lying face down on the grass you couldn’t move, every little shift of your left leg caused worse pain to shoot through your ankle.

Alexia saw you go down straight away, she didn’t even watch your shot nestle perfectly in the bottom corner. She made it to you in seconds, you were prone and she could tell you were in pain. “Amor, can you turn over for me?”

“No Ale por favor, it hurts to move it.” you reached the hand not fisting the grass out towards the woman, she didn’t hesitate in taking it and giving you what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze.

The trainers had made it to you now and when Alexia went to stand up to move over slightly, you gripped her hand tighter. “I’m not going anywhere amor, just moving out the way a little. I’ve got you.”

The game was stopped, the ref called half time without playing the final minute of the extra added on. The trainers were not moving you and it was clear to see from their reaction and the fact that they were calling the ambulance and doctor crew that whatever had happened was serious. “Ale I need you to tell me what’s going on, I know my adrenaline is high right now so the pain is subdued a little bit but this quite is not helping.”

Alexia nodded, gave your hand a squeeze and then got up and walked to your left. You could briefly hear her whispering with the trainers and then you felt what you think must have been a blanket being slightly lifted up before you heard Alexia gasp. That was never a good sign.

When she came back into view she was visibly pale and had tears in her eyes. “What? Ale what’s going on?” you went to move but the woman got on her knees and held your face.

“No don’t move amor. You need to stay as still as you can okay. The doctors are coming. It’s not good okay I’m not going to lie to you, your ankle is in pretty bad shape but you are going to be okay. I promise you are going to be okay. I’m going to make sure you are okay, I’m going to make sure we are okay.” You didn’t know what to say to that, you could tell by the look in her eyes you didn’t want to know what was going on with your ankle right now.

When the doctors got there you were taken away from staring at Alexia by them asking you some questions. They were the normal how are you feeling ones until one of the doctors facial expressions got more sombre. “What can you feel of your left foot? Can you wiggle your toes?” This confused you, of course you could feel your foot. It was causing you immense pain, well it was.

“I, it doesn’t hurt.” You paused, the pain you felt when you went down had gone and you hadn’t noticed. “The pain was so bad, why can’t I feel it anymore.” You were panicking, everyone could see it.

“Calma amor. I’ve got you. Stay still for me okay. Look at me y/n, you are going to be okay and I’m not leaving your side.” You could feel the tears leaking out your eyes as you nodded for the woman, the doctors were moving you and before you knew it you were laying on a stretcher with your foot covered in a brace and blankets.

The next hour was a blur, you were taken in an ambulance to the nearest hospital where you were taken straight down for scans and now you found yourself in a room with Alexia running her fingers through your hair whilst you waited for the doctor to come and speak with you.

You hadn’t spoken yet about what this meant and if you were honest you didn’t want too, you didn’t want to do this on your own. Alexia’s presence calmed you down in every situation and right now you really needed that.

You were just slipping into a peaceful sleep when the doctor walked in. “Hey bebé wake up for a few minutes for me, the doctors here.” You blinked rapidly at her to wake yourself up, an action that brought a loving smile to Alexia’s lips. She couldn’t resist leaning down and pecking your lips once something that you knew was a reassuring action.

“Okay Miss y/l/n, your scans show you have broken your ankle bone as well as torn the ligaments and tissue surrounding the bone. As you can see from the x-rays there is nothing holding your ankle in place which is why you lost feeling and sensation in it. I would like to take you straight into the operating room and get your ankle stabilised and start work on rebuilding the support system around it.” You were shocked, you knew it was bad. The doctor had said it was not good when you walked in but to find out there wasn’t a lot holding your ankle to your body was terrifying. Alexia was squeezing your hand and pressing kisses to your hairline, whilst whispering anything reassuring she could think of.

“You are going to be okay. They are going to fix you up and we are going to get through this. I promise you I’m never leaving you side again bebé. I’m so sorry.” You just turned your head and pressed it as close to her neck as you could, it had always been your safe space.

You didn’t know what the future held for you, you didn’t know if you would ever kick a ball in a professional setting again. What you did know was you had Alexia by your side and that was all you needed.

[quindolyn]

Weeks Without || Poly!Marauders

Word Count: 7,427

A/N: Happy birthday @littlest-dark-age ! While this was not initially meant for you I loved it so much that I thought you might too and I poured a lot of effort into it, enough to show you how much I love you I hope. I think I like this piece! It felt good to write and I hope you all like it too.

Warnings: too long, that's probably the biggest one, angst, fluff, and smut. Slight dom/sub dynamics with dom Rem and Siri, sub Jamesie and maybe switch reader? Potentially just sub, I don't know I feel like any reader x James interaction I write, unless explicitly stated otherwise is at least a little bit dom reader because I project. Oral (female receiving), fingering, hand job, palming, little bit of humiliation. I tried not to include Daddy kink because I know not everyone's into it and I'm pretty sure if any of my stuff can have a daddy kink it does so I tried switching it up. Insecure reader

Masterlist

2k follower celebration

As you approached the end of your time at Hogwarts there was a certain fear that bubbled up inside of you. Like the rest of your peers you had worries about what waited for you outside of Hogwarts, where you were going to live, what you were going to do? How you were going to pay your bills and if the person, or in your case people, you were leaving with were going to stay by your side.

You were sure that everyone with a partner shared the same worries you did, that being if your relationship was going to survive outside of the sheltered walls inside which it formed. For you your worries were multiplied threefold. You didn’t just have one person you were worried would tire and leave you, you had three boys.

They were all undeniably beautiful, there were days you couldn’t fathom how people as beautiful as them had chosen someone like you.

Despite their constant praise, the way they gazed at you during class and in the halls, the hugs and kisses they gave you any chance they had you still weren’t convinced that you were enough for them.

You tried not to show it, tried not to show the boys you loved so dearly how your insecurities were eating away at you. You were eating less, sleeping less, and even though you spent all your time bent over a book in the library, eyes racing over the pages your studies were suffering too. The time you spent in the library wasn’t so much to actually study so much as it was to avoid your boys, even being around them had grown painful. Worried that every kiss they gave you might be getting you closer and closer to the last had you nauseous.

You knew it was ridiculous but you couldn’t help the feeling from gnawing away at you.

Your boys weren’t stupid, though James often acted as though he was, they noticed you pulling back from them. On the rare occasions they were able to get you with them for more than the duration of dinner it was like you were stopping yourself from enjoying being around them.

You’d catch yourself smiling too wide and drawback. To them it was like clouds blocking out the sun, though they’d swear they would’ve preferred the absence of the sun over yours.

There were only so many ways you could avoid them and when it came time for sleep there was no escaping the giant canopy bed in James’ headboy dorm that could easily fit all four of you. It was probably the easiest way for you to be around them, because after a long day of classes and extraneous studying you were out the minute your head hit the pillow. There was no time for them to prod you about your day, ask you where you’d been during your shared free period.

You speedily made your way through your evening routine before the rest of them got to the room and were climbing under the covers as they finally made their entrance.

Tonight you hadn’t been as lucky, as you barreled into the cozy dormitory, decorated in a frankly nauseating amount of scarlet and gold. You entered to find your three boyfriends were already waiting for you sprawled throughout the room.

James sat on the sofa to the left of the king bed, long legs sprawled out in front of him, they were so long that his feet stuck off the end. With his hands clasped behind his head acting as a pillow, he would’ve been the picture of leisure had it not been for the crease between his brows while he conversed with the two other boys in the room.

Sirius sat curled up in Remus’ lap, nestled together on the loveseat; there didn’t appear to be an inch of space between the two of them. Usually when they were found like this it was as though neither of them had a care in the world, too wrapped up in each other to notice anything else that went on around them. This time was different, Sirius held one of Remus’ hands in his, fiddling with it while he gazed off into the air, eyes focusing on nothing in particular.

It wasn’t tension clouding the room so much as it was worry. Worry about you, worry about your relationship, worry about what they might’ve said or done to hurt you.

As you stepped into the room all of their eyes shot to your figure, ultimately finding your face as they tried to tell what sorts of secrets you were hiding in that pretty head of yours.

“Hi poppet,” Remus spoke promptly, knowing that allowing the silence to stretch on would only serve to worsen the situation.

“You guys are here early.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw the furrow between James’ brows deepen at your response, you weren’t usually one to sidestep a greeting like that. Though in all fairness you hadn’t been acting much like your usual self lately.

“We’ve missed you puppy, feels like we never see you anymore,” It was Sirius who spoke, hands still fidgeting with Remus’ long fingers, finding the Marauders ring that he wore on his ring finger and sliding it up and down the appendage.

You answered with a noncommittal hum as you toed off your shoes, abandoning them by the door to the dorm before moving to the bed where you shrugged off the bag that had been weighing down on your shoulder all day.

Remus quietly eased Sirius off of his lap, helping him into James' open arms awaiting his arrival. Once the raven haired male was settled into the larger boy’s grasp, strong, muscled arms holding him close to his equally toned chest Remus made his way toward you where you sat, silently working on the buttons of your blouse.

“You want help with those, bunny?” Came the steady baritone of Remus’ voice as he stood a few feet before you, head cocked to the side while his hands were buried deep inside of his pockets.

“I’m fine Rem, I’ve got it,” The use of the nickname normally would’ve worked to lighten the worries that were swirling around in the boy’s head. This was counteracted by the despondency of your voice pulling each syllable downwards into mumbled murmur.

“I hate to say it but Siri’s right (Y/N), we don’t see you anymore and we’ve tried to ignore this weird behavior, thinking that it would pass but it hasn’t,” The lycan spoke as he made his way to the bed, sitting down on the mattress next to you but sure to leave a decent amount of space between the two of you, not wanting to spook you more than you had seemed to be.

You ignored his words, instead focusing your attention on unzipping your skirt, loosening the waistband allowed you to take a deep breath you’d been yearning for all day.

“Bunny, we just want to know what’s wrong, talk to us please.”

Lifting your eyes, lids heavy from the stress of the day, at Remus’ desperate plea you found the looming figures of your other two boys hovering over his shoulder. Fingers intertwined as both stormy grey irises and hazel ones gazed at you.

“Nothing’s the matter Remus, I’m just a little stressed out is all. It's nothing any of you have done.”

Technically that was true, it was nothing your boys had done directly that had caused you to pull back from them but still, a lie by omission.

“Bullshit.”

Each of your heads whipped to find the voice who had spoken, your eyes landing on Sirius’ form you found his sullen figure glowering, tucked into James’ side.

“Sirius come on,” Remus murmured, urging the boy to keep his mouth shut.

“No its such fucking bullshit, she’s been acting like this for weeks and I’m sick and fucking tired of her acting like a toddler.” The boy swivelled, redirecting his attention back towards you, “Stop it (Y/N)! Stop lying to us, stop pulling away, just fucking talk to us for fuck’s sake because I can’t fucking do this anymore.”

With each word the boy’s voice raised an octave and you watched James’ hold on Sirius’ shoulder tighten as though he could contain the flow of words that tumbled from his mouth.

It was all too much, the insecure thoughts that bounced around your head, the aches that had settled in your limbs from pushing yourself too hard on too little sleep, the distinct throbbing that resided behind your temples nearly every day by this time.

Then add on Sirius’ harsh words it was all too much.

“I can’t do this,” You mumbled, haphazardly redoing the buttons of the blouse that had been hanging off your shoulders before pulling your bag, abandoned just minutes ago, back onto your shoulder.

“(Y/N) where are you going?” The frustration in Remus’ voice was evident, he’d been so understanding and gentle the past few weeks but even he had his limits and he was not about to watch you walk away from them.

“My dorm.”

“Since when do you sleep in your dorm?” It was the first time you’d heard James’ voice since you entered the lavish dorm room. The hurt laced in each word was unmistakable, guilt at being the one to hurt the boy you loved so much served to twist the knife that was already planted firmly between your ribs.

For the first time in weeks you finally voiced the overwhelming thought that had been plaguing you, the thought that had caused you to pull away from them in the first place, “You’re better off without me.”

It seemed as though everything in the castle had stopped to listen on your conversation, you were almost certain you could make out the little figure of a portrait peeking its head into the gargantuan frame that hung on the furthest wall of the dormitory should Dumbledore need to call James out in the middle of the night to perform some headboy duty.

The room was so quiet as the boys, your boys, soaked in your words that you swore you could hear Slughorn all the way down in the dungeons, munching on the lavish pineapple that had been dropped off at his office a few hours earlier and that he had saved until now to indulge himself in.

“What do you mean poppet?” The crease between Remus’ brows matched the confusion so evident in his voice.

“I mean…” You trailed off as you felt tears well in your eyes, weighing down on your bottom lashes as they threatened to spill over. You couldn’t find it within yourself to meet any of their gazes, instead keeping your head downturned, eyes trained on your sock clad feet and you shifted your weight from foot to foot.

Before you could force yourself to look up you felt a strong, steady hand slip under your mandible, from the rough calloused nature of said hand you knew without a doubt that it belonged to James.

He slowly turned your visage upwards to meet his, heart crumbling as he took in your waterlogged optics, red and puffy, sunken in my large dark shadows that appeared to be frighteningly close to bruises.

“Why are you thinking that you’re not good enough for us angel?” He spoke, his voice cracking as he took in your heart wrenching appearance.

“Jamie,” You sobbed before throwing yourself into his chest, the barriers you’d erected between you and the rest of them crumbling as you saw the helpless look in James’ beautiful hazel eyes.

The fears and doubts that had haunted you for weeks were still there but you couldn’t find it within yourself anymore to listen to them when they told you to keep your space, to hide from the people you loved the most.

You clung to James’ broad shoulders, standing on your tiptoes so that you could throw your arms around his neck. You felt the weight of your satchel once again slip from your shoulder accompanied by a soft thud against the hardwood floor as one of James’ arms wrapped around your waist, the other slipping under your bum, landing on your upper thighs to support your weight as he carried you over to the canopied bed.

James kept you safely in his lap, sitting down with Sirius and Remus on either side of the two of you.

Even if any of them wanted to pry you off of James there was no way you were leaving the warm solace of his hold, the solidity of his thighs underneath you, the strong planes of his back sprawled out underneath your palms.

There was a comfort in all of it that you hadn’t realized you missed so much, you felt a pang in your chest as you contemplated the boy’s reaction to your insecurities. Would they confirm them, and these past weeks, which could’ve been spent in the exact position you found yourself in now, soaking up the comfort they brought you, had been wasted?

Though you were perfectly content to sit there, snuggled into James’ chest the boys wanted answers, and though they tried their best this was the most like yourself you’d been in forever and they were desperate for answers to their questions before you slipped away from them again.

“I’m sorry I yelled Princess I’ve just been so worried about you,” Sirius murmured, his hand gently sliding up your thigh to rest under the hem of the plaid fabric.

All you could offer the boy was a nod as you turned your visage to meet his, wiping your nose with the back of your hand, “It’s okay Siri-”

“No it's not,” He refuted empathically, his hand moving from your thigh to cup your cheek, dragging his thumb across your cheek bone in soothing circles, “If anyone else spoke to you like that I’d hex them into oblivion. I’m sorry.”

He leaned down, tilting your face ever so slightly upwards to meet your lips. As usual his were unnaturally and enviously red, tasting of smoke and the strawberry candy he stole from the pockets of James’ robes.

His lips brushed gently against yours, it was the first kiss the two of you had shared in weeks that wasn’t a quick peck as you passed in the halls or as you rushed away from them after breakfast. Understandably, he was in no mood to rush it.

You melted into his touch as his grip on your cheek tightened, keeping you from pulling away as he deepened the kiss, kissing with a sort of passion foregin to the both of you. Different from what you were used to, lust filled kisses as he ground your hips into his. This was a sort of apology from the both of you, sorry to have shied away from this for so long and he sorry for blowing up at you.

He kept his lips melded to yours for as long as possible before finally pulling away to suck in a deep breath, replenishing his depleted lungs.

“Gotta tell us what’s going on in that pretty head of yours baby,” Came Remus’s voice from the other side of Jamesie’s broad shoulders, lulling your head off of the one it rested on to meet his sympathetic eyes.

You felt a familiar panic bubble up once again in your throat at the thought of voicing all your insecurities, scenario after scenario running through your head going through all the different ways the boys could react to your theories.

Suddenly you felt like an idiot and felt your cheeks burn as blood rushed to them, resisting the urge to bury your face back in James’ shoulder you swallowed, “W-What if,” You stopped for a moment, sniffing and going to wipe your nose on the back of your hand you were stopped when Remus’ large hand wrapped around your wrist.

Slender fingers slipped a silky hanky into your palm for you to wipe your nose on and you smiled as you glimpsed the initials “RJL” stitched sloppily into it. This was no doubt done by James when he was laid up with a Quidditch injury and had taken up stitching, amongst other things.

“Thanks Rem,” You murmured as you swiped the soft cloth underneath your nose before slipping it back into his hand, you felt your cheeks burn, embarrassed to be handing him back the used, and admittedly grosser material, but ever the gentleman he paid it no mind.

“Now what was it that you were saying (Y/N)?”

You braced yourself, clenching the covers into your fists as you forced the words that had been swirling around in your head out, coming to terms with that there was no more delaying the inevitable.

“Are we gonna stay together once we graduate?”

It was conflicting having finally spoken those words that had tormented you for countless days, hours upon hours of pain and anxiety causing you unspeakable turmoil. It felt as though it was all lifted from your shoulders, you’d spoken the words, put them out there and they were no longer your pain to bear alone.

At the same time, they didn’t just exist in your head anymore. They were real and the people who mattered most had just heard them, their impending response only served to make you grip the sheets even tighter.

“Where’s this coming from angel?” James asked, confusion tightening up his voice.

“I don’t know,” You whimpered, “I’ve just been thinking and you all are so fucking beautiful and perfect, how am I supposed to keep up with you when we leave here. I already don’t deserve any of you. It's already bad enough in here with all the girls and guys fawning over all of you but how am I supposed to fair when you have the entire world at your fingertips?”

As they soaked in the meaning behind your words James’ arms tightened around you to the point of bordering on discomfort but it was so reassuring to be held that close, to know that that was the reaction your words had on them that you couldn’t find it within yourself to complain, only to hold him even tighter.

“Darling,” Sirius’ sympathetic tone was enough to shatter your already fragile facade and before you knew it there were fat teardrops sliding along down your soft cheeks.

You could feel your tears dampening the material of James’ old t-shirt but couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“I-I don’t wanna lose you guys,” You sobbed, letting all the pent up emotion from the past weeks flow out, coming off of you in waves as the knot that had been residing in your chest slowly began to unravel. Each tender caress of your back and stroke of your hair assisted in its efforts until all that was left was your heart. Which, considering that it had been tangled up in barbed wire, thorns piercing your heart with every beat, was in surprisingly good condition, still intact and pumping along.

“You’re not gonna lose us (Y/N/N), ever,” James promised into your ear, his chapped lips brushing across the shell of your ear.

“You can’t promise that,” You protested, words muffled as you spoke into his shoulder, “There might be someone else who you guys love more than me, who’s prettier and smarter and can keep up with you all. M not good enough for any of you and what if one day you realize that?”

“Don’t talk like that princess,” Sirius’ grip was steely on your forearm as he used it to get your attention, “I’ve spent my entire life being told I wasn’t good enough and the truth is that we aren’t good enough for you. I know what it feels like to feel like the people in your life deserve better than you but there is no doing better than you, no one else on this earth holds a candle to you my beautiful girl.”

As you took in each of Sirius’ words letting them heal the puncture wounds on your heart from being wrapped in thorny vines Remus spoke, “We love you more than anything puppy, the day you walked into our lives was the best day of my life and I can’t think of a world where any of us live without you. Especially outside of Hogwarts, things are gonna be just as scary for us as they are for you poppet and I know I don’t wanna do it without you.”

It felt good to hear that the worries you’d been obsessing over were really all in your head, that they really did love you as much as you loved them, but there was still one boy you needed to hear the words from before you could completely relax.

“I’m going to marry one day (Y/N/N), I’m going to marry all of you and we’re going to be Misters and Missus Potter. Remmy’s right, I don’t wanna ever wake up and not have you right there next to me. Mum and Dad say I have to wait till we’re settled and we have jobs and a place to live before I can propose but it's gonna happen bunny, I just hope you don’t realize we’re a pile of daft idiots before then.”

As a lopsided goofy smile quirked his lips upward you felt a similar force mimicking the movement on your own, “Even if you all are daft idiots, m’never gonna find anyone like you guys. My pretty boys.”

“You hear that mates? We’re her pretty boys, if I didn’t know better I’d say (L/N) has a little crush on all of us.”

“Oh sod off Siri,” You let out a watery giggle, gently nudging the boy’s arm as you looked up at him through water logged lashes.

“Is that true puppy? You like us?” Even though he was usually the most mature of your boys Remus’ mischievous side never failed to shine when he called on it.

“No,” You refuted, “I’m actually rather fond of Severus now that you mention it.”

You’d pulled away from Jamesie’s chest to be able to look at each of them but with your words you were harshly tugged back into him.

“Not funny,” The sullen boy murmured into your ear, “Ours, not Snivellus’.”

“Shhh s’okay bubba I know you love me,” You soothed him, tangling your fingers in his hair like you knew he liked.

“I’m so sorry bunny we ever made you feel like Snape loved you more, I never want you to feel like we don’t love you.” He squeezed you, “How can we make it up to you?”

“I just got in my own head is all,” You explained, “I was telling the truth earlier when I said that it was nothing any of you had done, just shouldn’t spend all that time alone with my thoughts.”

Sirius’ elegant hand started rubbing up and down your back as you all sat there, soaking in each other’s presence after so many weeks of turmoil. Each time his hand slipped lower and lower down your back till he was groping your ass with the palm of his hand.

“Do you believe us poppet?” Remus asked, taking note of Sirius’ hand on your bum, “You believe that we’ll love you till the day we die?”

You nodded your head, face still buried into James’ neck, “I know you’re telling the truth Remmy, it's probably just going to take a little while for my brain to start really believing it, I spent so long worrying about it that mt stupid brain is’nt just gonna start listening to me.”

Remus nodded as he brushed a piece of hair from your face, it was the answer he’d been expecting.

“How about we show you how much we love you puppy?” Sirius asked from your other side, hand sliding from your ass to your thigh before slipping underneath the hem of your skirt.

“What do you mean Siri?” You cocked your head to the side in a rather obvious display of your confusion.

Wordlessly he stood up and slipped you from James’ lap moving to the foot of the bed where he laid you out on your back. Your blouse hung open off your shoulders revealing your lace clad breasts to the man as his eyes raked over your body, taking in every curve and line of your body.

Starting on the cushiony pillows of your lips, red and raw from gnawing away at them all the way down to the soft lines of your thighs he took his time appreciating every millimeter of you before dragging his eyes back up to the hem of your skirt.

One graceful hand slid to the waistband, already loosened he bent down to press a kiss where the material had rubbed your skin raw over the course of the day.

As your panty clad center was revealed to him Sirius swiftly dropped to his knees, his eyes quickly darting to Remus over your left shoulder for permission for what he was about to. It was granted to him with a soft nod.

“What are you doing Siri?” You pondered as he slid your legs apart from each other, sitting up on his knees as he began pressing sloppy kisses onto the insides of your thighs.

Instead of getting an answer Remus spoke, his words directed to the boy between your legs as though his words would have no consequence on you, “You can mark her Sirius, let everyone know that she’s our pretty girl.”

His words sent a zap of excitement up your back as you remembered how good it felt to be their pretty girl. Something you hadn’t felt like in weeks.

You bucked your hips as Sirius’ lips ghosted over your pussy still hidden to him behind the lacy material that matched your bra, “I’m showing you how much I love you puppy,'' He responded to your earlier posed question, “Now come on, lift your hips f’me,'' He murmured as he slipped the panties along with your school shirt from your hips revealing your pussy to his hungry gaze. Sirius carefully pulled the garments from your legs before dropping them to the floor next to where he knelt.

Inching closer and closer to your cunt as he worked his way up your thighs leaving a trail of kisses in his wake he made sure to sink his teeth into the flesh at certain points, just hard enough that if he sucked he was sure to leave behind mouse shaped bruises. The thought of being marked by him caused a ripple of arousal to go straight to your core.

Once he was satisfied with the marks he’d left on your thighs the raven haired boy moved quickly, nosing your folds apart to breathe in your scent, even with the minimal stimulation you’d had you were already soaking, though Sirius often seemed to do that to you.

“Fuck,” You swore as his nose bumped your clit and you reached out to grab onto the bedding but found James’ hand instead, wrapping your hand around his middle and index finger as you scrunched your eyes closed.

“Pretty baby,” James cooed as he leaned down to smear a kiss across your brow, furrowed from pleasure, “Siri making you feel good?”

You nodded fervently as the aforementioned boy licked a broad stripe from your quivering, sopping entrance to your clit, lifting up the hood to suck gently as James often sucked on your tits. You smiled thinking that you might fall asleep that way tonight because you knew nothing made the boy quite as happy as both falling asleep and waking up with your tit in his mouth.

“Use your words puppy,” Remus’ voice sounded from your otherside and you whipped your head to face him wondering when he’d moved over there, “Wanna hear that pretty voice of yours.”

“Yes Remmy, feels so so good,” Your words hitched as Sirius slipped a finger inside of you, continuing to suck on your clit as he did so.

As you spoke your eyes wandered downwards and you were met with a familiar bulge having formed in Remus’ trousers. The werewolf’s gaze followed yours and smiled as his eyes landed on his crotch.

Your head quickly pivoted to the otherside finding a matching bulge in James’ trousers. A pang of guilt hit your heart as you hadn’t even thought about either of their pleasure, being too overwhelmed by your own as Sirius had thrown your legs over his shoulders allowing him to pull himself closer to your dripping, aching cunt.

Somehow your hand had found its way to Remus’ cock as you mindlessly palmed at his bulge as though that and that alone would work to help it escape from its zippered cage and into your awaiting hand.

“Can I have your cock Rem, please?” You begged looking up at him with wide eyes, fingers fumbling as they finally stumbled across the zipper.

“Course you can bunny,such a good girl asking me for m’cock so nicely, let me get it out for you.”

Remus expertly lifted his hips as he unzipped his zipper, sliding his trousers and boxers down to his mid thigh allowing his cock to spring free.

As his cock was revealed to you Sirius added a second finger into your pussy, curling it at just the right spot to hit the sensitive spot inside of you each and every time he thrusted his fingers. As he pushed the second finger inside of you you felt the distinct chill of metal, you gasped at the unique, though certainly not unwelcome sensation.

Glancing downwards you saw that the hand belonging to the arm that was pinning your hips to the mattress did not bear the signature Marauders ring they all wore proudly on their ring finger. Having his marauders ring thrusted in and out of you made you clench around his long, slender fingers, the extra stretch provided by the jewelry was impossibly hot.

The combination of seeing Remus’ cock, standing proud and tall as his tip, bright red, leaked pre cum onto his shaft and the extra stretch of not only another finger inside of you, but a ring, had you squeezing your legs around Sirius’ head.

Flicking your gaze down towards him you were met with Sirius’ eyes already on you and he circled your clit with his tongue. Much to your chagrin he pulled his head away from your cunt, smoothing his palm up your stomach as he smiled at you with the most sincere look in his eyes, “You’re beautiful like this puppy, so perfect all laid out for us, making a mess all over my face.”

Looking at the bottom of his face you saw the mess he was talking about, his mouth and chin were glistening with your slick. Before you could reply Sirius was diving back into your pussy, scooping his arms under your thighs to lift your hips so that he had even more through access to your pretty cunt.

Any breath you would’ve used to respond was pulled from you as Sirius’ tongue began working magic on your cunt, tracing it painfully slowly before abruptly speeding up.

Remembering the gift that had been bestowed upon you you grappled for Remus’ cock, quickly wrapping your hand around it and beginning to pump up and down, loving nothing more than the way he throbbed beneath your touch.

“That’s a good girl, so good at playing with m’cock, there’s a good girl,”

“Like this?” Your wide eyes stared up at Remus as you twisted your wrist pulling a strangled gasp from him.

“Yes baby, just like that.”

You were mesmerized by his cock as you watched the head disappear before reappearing from your fist as you worked up and down his shaft, your hand working along the natural curve of his prick.

A whiny moan from your other side broke your concentration as you turned your head to investigate it, never halting your movements up and down Remus’ member.

Your eyes fell upon James’ whimpering form, shifting uncomfortably as his eyes flickered back and forth between your hand on Remus’ cock, Sirius’ head buried between your legs and your face, pleasure plastered over your every feature. God you looked beautiful when you were getting eaten out.

Finally you settled on the raging boner visible through James’ trousers, it looked almost painful the way it was straining against the restrictive fabric.

“Aww Jamesie m’sorry, been neglecting your cock,” You mewled, the hand not on Remus’ cock moving to palm James through his trousers.

“That’s okay bunny, m’good just watching you, fuck you’re gorgeous.”

You threw your head back as Sirius pinched at your clit, his tongue and fingers having swapped places as he circled your tight entrance which was clenching around nothing, but who could blame you?

You were in ecstasy.

There was a familiar fire burning in the pit of your belly, one that had begun simmering the second Sirius had looked you up and down once having laid you down on the bed.

A small whimper escaped you as you felt James’ strong calloused hand grope your clothed breast over the mesh and wire cage you kept them concealed in because fuck did that feel good.

You turned your visage to view Remus, he was painfully hard now and you made sure to keep groping James on the other side of you as you quickened your speed on Remus’ cock.

“Merlin puppy that feels so good, our good puppy. I love you so much my love, so much,” His praise came as he tangled his hands in your hair, using his hold on your to direct your face up to view his. He looked angelic, beads of sweat forming on his hairline with clouded over hazel eyes and the most beautiful lips you’d ever seen that released haggard groans and breaths.

A whine tumbled from your lips at the praise, Remus was always the gentler out of your doms, James barely counting as most of the time he was on his knees with you ready to obey his next command, but his praise seemed to be affecting you more than you were used to. Not that you were complaining though, on the contrary, you were living for it as it spurred you closer and closer to orgasm.

You squeezed Remus’ cock as Sirius nipped at your clit, the sensation walking the delicate line between pleasure and pain but jarring nonetheless. You’d be lying if you said that it didn’t send a rush of arousal to the fire now beginning to roar in your belly.

The feeling of James and Remus’ cocks in your hands was oddly erotic and as they worked to ground you as Sirius pulled you further and further into bliss the holdon them, feeling every vein and ridge and twitch turned you on more and more and had you bucking into Sirius’ mouth.

“I’m gonna cum!” You screamed as Sirius sped up his ministrations on your pussy, sucking your clit between his lips as he mercilessly pistoned his fingers in and out of you.

“M gonna cum too,” James admitted, sucking in a tight breath as he wriggled his hips, resisting the urge to buck up as you lackadaisically palmed at his still clothed crotch, never having the time to properly undress.

The thought of cumming with James pushed you right to the edge to the point where you could barely form words, but knowing you’d need permission before you were allowed to cum you sought out the one person who could grant you such. “Can I cum?” You pleaded, turning your head to face Remus, “Please Rem let me cum please!”

“You gonna cum too Jamesie?” The lycan’s eyes were trained on James’ face, eyes wide as he watched your hand slip up and down Remus’ curved length.

Upon receiving his answer, a yes delivered in rushed nods, Remus turned back to you, “Yes baby, go ahead and cum for us, make a mess all over Siri’s face. Gonna look so pretty when you cum undone, such a pretty girl.”

That final praise tipped you over the edge, sending you into a bliss filled oblivion as warmth seeped to every nook and cranny in your body. You felt your legs tense and spasm as you squeezed your thighs around Sirius’ head, bucking into his face to get as much stimulation as possible because there was no way for you to get enough.

You distantly registered a string of curses leaving your lips as euphoria washed through your body, taking with it any little doubts and worries that hadn’t parted with the boy’s earlier kind words.

As your orgasm passed and you blinked your eyes open you found a lightness in your chest you hadn’t felt in months. All the wounds from being wrapped up in thorns so long seemed to have healed on your heart, to see you tested it out, letting a singular thought about the boys drift through your consciousness. You were immediately reminded of Sirius’ head still in between your legs, lapping up the slick that had made a mess all over the insides of your thighs, James’ softening prick under one palm and Remus’ still rock hard one in the other.

All those worries you had let occupy your thoughts for months seemed stupid and trivial as you remembered just how much your boys loved you.

“Well would you look at that,” You were pulled from your thoughts by Remus’ voice, following his gaze to James who sat resting on his hands, panting, with an unmistakable stain fresh on the front of his trousers.

“Did Prongs cum in his pants?” Sirius simpered, also huffing, though for completely different reasons as he lifted his head from your cunt, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The seemingly normal sight sent a shiver up your spine but you quickly shook the thought away.

You nodded your head as your eyes caught on the stain on the front of his trousers but no one seemed to notice.

James’ cheeks were burning bright red as Remus came up behind him, brushing the hair out of his face as he leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of James’ head.

Remus helped the submissive boy to his feet, all the while murmuring quiet praises you couldn’t hear from where you laid until one was spoken loudly enough for your ears, “Come on bubba lets get those boxers off,” The sandy haired boy prompted, “Show (Y/N/N) how pretty you think she is, she made you cum in your pants, I don’t think any of us have ever done that before have we?”

James shook his head as Remus quickly undid the zipper on the other boy’s trousers. The taller boy kneeled to help him step out of his trousers and boxers, leaving him naked from the waist down.

It was an undeniably hot sight, James’ half hard cock resting against his toned thigh, both covered in his cum from his untimely release.

Your eyes were pulled up to Remus as he let out an appreciative hum as he inspected the ruined boxers in his hand.

He slipped onto the bed next to you, “Come on puppy sit up f’me,” Opening his arm for you to settle into his side.

“And you Jamesie,” He prompted, patting his thigh for the boy to sit on. As James settled onto the hard plane of muscle Remus’ still throbbing erection poked into his back, the leaking head smearing precum along the boy’s toned back.

Sirius settled in behind all three of you, peering over your shoulder at the soiled boxers, one hand resting on your shoulder and the other on Remus’. You melted under his touch and snuggled ever closer into Remus’ side, turning your head to press a kiss to the back of Sirius’ hand.

“Y’made Jamesie cum without even taking him out of his pants puppy, can you believe that? That’s how fucking sexy we all think you are, made him cum without even directly touching his cock princess.”

“S’like you’ve got super powers,” James interjected, his eyes trained on you, “Your hand angel, its magic.”

You chuckled at his choice of words, whether or not you were intentional you doubted but it made them all the more cute.

“It’s so pretty,” You murmured, running your index finger through the sticky mess before bringing it up to your lips, sucking it completely clean as you couldn’t get enough of James’ perfect taste. “You taste really good Jamesie.”

The boy at the center of your current conversation turned, hiding his head in the crook of Remus’ neck mumbling a “thank you” into the delicate scarred skin.

“Don’t need to be shy,” Sirius crooned, out of character with the gentleness in his tone, as he combed his fingers through James’ dark tresses, “It’s fucking unbelievable how hot it is.”

You smiled at the delicate interaction between the two boys as James looked up at Sirius with wide eyes and puckered his lips, silently demanding a kiss. It was a demand Sirius was all too ready to obey as he dipped down, sealing James’ lips with his.

As he pulled away he caught you staring at him with want etched all over your face, “Don’t worry puppy,” He simpered, moving to cup your face in his hand, “You can get a kissie too.”

His tongue brushed against the seal of your slips as he deepened the kiss before abruptly pulling away, not wanting to get himself any more wound up than he already was.

“My beautiful girl,” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he smiled down at you.

“You two need to get cleaned up,” Remus spoke as you and Sirius gazed at each other, “You, especially Jamesie, made quite the mess of yourself.”

James whined at the subtle comment but aside from that made no other objection.

You on the other hand had other, more pressing worries.

“But what about you, Remmy? You’re still hard and Siri hasn’t even been touched yet, need to get you two off,” Your words came out frantic at the prospect of leaving two of the men you loved so much unsatisfied but Remus was quick to quell your worries with a soothing kiss to your hairline.

“Don’t worry poppet, Siri and I will take care of each other while Jamesie runs a bath for the two of you, yeah? We’ll be right in to join you, have a feeling neither of us are going to last all that long.”

You were reluctant to agree after how amazing you’d been made to feel by your boys since you’d arrived at the dorm and the thought of leaving two of them to take care of each other was frustrating, your frustration did not outweigh the pleasure a warm bubble bath promised and in the end you crumbled.

“Fine.”

“Good girl,” Remus extolled as James slipped from his lap and stood before you, arms open and ready to engulf your significantly smaller figure.

You all but leapt into his embrace, loving the way his strong arms could so easily support you.

“Come on angel,” He cooed down at you, “S’bath time.”

Remus and Sirius waited until the two of you had entered the adjoining bathroom before leaping to their feet, their hands quickly finding the other’s chest desperate to pull another close.

James kicked the door closed behind him but not with enough force to fully close the door, the room beyond it was still visible through a small crack.

Through the crack in the door you were able to see Remus and Sirius and even over the roar of the running water James had started that was slowly filling the ginormous bathtub that sat at the center of the room you could make out the words that fell from their lips.

“You’re gorgeous mon chéri,” Sirius muttered against Remus’ shoulder as he tugged on Remus’ cock, the two boys had made quick time and Sirius’ aching member was already in Remus’ palm.

“Just as beautiful as both of our babies.”

“Impossible.”

“Shut up and cum for Godric’s sake,” The smaller man whined, “I want a bath.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @pinkandblueblurbs @dracofknmalfoy @itsmentalillness @zzzfour @greenlyblue @emmaev @temporaryissue @gubleryum @advictedtohim @marauderswhore07 @st0nesnglitter @wholebigboxofyikes @priii @miraclesoflove @thatvenusbabe @shadesofvelma @drachoesimp @ashlovesthemarauders @artemis1orion @skaratjung @ava-brooke-blog1 @fairyprettygirly @ohwowimlonley @padfootswife @4kweasley @roonilwazlibswhore @swearingsolemnly @teenwolfbitches28 @lilypad-55449 @jamespotterslover @lilytheally @mo-jean @lolooo22 @adrianscumslut @jeannelupinblack @wh0reforthemarauders @myalupinblack @ashesandstars @daisyyy2516 @siriusmydeer @remugoodgirl @itzstacie @planet-wolfstar @steveharringtonswhore @saintlike78 @i-love-scott-mccall @thatdummymarie @cedricisnotdead @pretty-pop-princess-hs

[eviltothecore13]

I hate that people see “Marvel” and think “MCU” now instead of all the great things the comics have done over the years.

Marvel comics had Spider-Man cheering on anti-Vietnam-War protestors in the 60s and the MCU gets US military support and funding?

Tony Stark in the comics (while still unbearable in the hands of SOME writers) is canonically bi and had alcoholism handled actually seriously and not made into a joke in the original Demon In A Bottle story whereas the Iron Man films chose to portray it as him making an idiot of himself at parties lolisn’tthatfunny instead. Not to mention that the reason he was written as a weapons manufacturer initially in the comics was that Stan Lee knew his audience was mostly fairly progressive young people and was deliberately choosing the person they would hate the most, as a "can I convincingly make this guy become a hero?" challenge--and the story is meant to be about a weapons manufacturer realising the horrible consequences of his actions and deciding to stop making weapons and use technology for good instead--but the original anti-military script of the first Iron Man film got edited beyond recognition because of that US military funding thing, and the films sort of waved vaguely in the direction of him no longer making weapons and then forgot all about it and had him keep doing it? (Also they expected us to laugh at him making a rape joke. WTF.)

They made canonically Jewish-Romani characters into white Christians working for HYDRA. (They also added a whole “oh HYDRA and the Red Skull just worked with the Nazis to gain power, they didn’t agree with the bigotry” thing presumably either so they didn’t have to address themes of bigotry and show their heroes fighting bigots, or to tone HYDRA down enough to sell merch of them, or both--when comics!Red Skull was very much explicitly a fanatical Nazi racist homophobe etc. I’m pretty sure they even tried to sell “Hail HYDRA” merch.)

I keep seeing talk of the X-Men joining the MCU and I just...do not trust them to adapt Magneto properly at this point at all. Or to adapt stories like “God Loves, Man Kills” or similar classic X-Men stories.

For that matter, while I’m not keen on some of the recent direction of the X-Men comics (WHY did they have Xavier and Magneto on the same council as Sinister, NO even remotely sympathetic character should work with Nazis, ESPECIALLY not a Jewish Holocaust survivor! also they seem to have practically made Xavier and Moira McTaggart into scheming supervillains at this point and like...they were both morally grey but I don’t think there was ever any need to take things THAT far...especially with Xavier it also kind of ruins his whole dynamic with Magneto, Magneto is meant to respect/even admire him to some extent and that doesn’t work if Xavier doesn’t have a single admirable trait...I know he was always secretive and did some morally questionable things but him and Moira both feel like different characters recently to in, say, Claremont’s era), they DO have Logan/Scott/Jean as a canon poly relationship, and also Kate Pryde--somehow I don’t think MCU will ever really have an explicitly bi Jewish pirate woman protagonist...

And yet people think of the MCU when they think “Marvel” and you see it in posts like “can’t believe anyone expects to see men kissing in Marvel” when we’ve had men kissing in Marvel for decades, it’s the MCU who won’t portray the characters they’re adapting properly...will “Marvel” ever stop being associated in people’s minds with “movies that are mostly CGI that have an explosion every five minutes and don’t pause to spend much if any time on character development or emotional moments”?

[4dtk]

jaehyun as a bf

anon: “your writing brings me butterflies i love it you are so underrated!!!!! would love to request a jaehyun bf headcanons (like the one you did of mark <3)” thank you for the kind words anon <333 hope you enjoy this one!

(a bit of a plug lol but check out NCT 127's ideal r/s headcanons in this post!! i appreciate you checking it out! <3)

brief mentions of sex, but nothing explicitly nsfw!

likes to talk about music with you

especially jazz. there’s a plethora of songs out there with different renditions and sometimes he likes to ramble about who’s rendition he likes best

would play the piano for you if you asked, just maybe not after schedules or something. but usually when you’re free or alone together in the room, he likes you to sit beside him to listen to him play

you guys like to play a little game where he’ll play the chords and you play like a random note to create blobs of music

even if you don’t know how, the way the session always dissolves into giggles is his favourite thing in the world

if you know how to play the piano that’s great too!! jaehyun just likes the unexpected notes that come out since there’s no set melody in his mind

jaehyun needs to have some part of his body on yours at all times. like he has to hold your hand all the time, or a finger hooked around your backpack, or an arm around your waist.

at least when you’re together he does it very often and he’s just. obsessed with you lmfao

it’s also the reason he buys a promise ring when he’s sure of you as a significant other so you always have a part of him with you (his love)

would buy you those lockets for you to put pictures inside. he doesn’t care where you wear it though, around your neck, wrist, ankle, as long as the locket is on your person

he clings onto you like crazy in the mornings. jaehyun’s a heavy sleeper and likes to hug you on his side, so you’re always having trouble trying to pry him off of you in the morning

a bit nsfw: he likes morning lazy sex lol, ngl. jaehyun adores the rawness of your relationship in the morning and the sleepiness in your eyes when you’re gently pushing him away. he knows you don’t mean it but he makes sure you really want it first

loves the sunlight kissing your skin and the slow, gentle movements

so so intimate, he prefers it to the rougher forms of sex, but sometimes he doesn’t have that luxury since they leave for schedules quite often in the wee hours of dawn

for cuddling sense, jaehyun likes it when you’re under his arm and cuddled into his side. classic position but he dies every time inside when you look up at him and there’s this clueless look you have. has the biggest smile on his face after and you have to repeat the stuff you said bc he’s too distracted by how your eyes shine

second hot favourite (more of when you’re making out) is when you’re straddling him. nothing sexual, just like you on top of him when you’re kissing and stuff. he digs it when you’re pulling away for oxygen and he has to lift his body to reach for your lips again

gets flustered from kissing, but doesn’t show it. if he’s found a way to suppress the crazy crimson on his ears (which i doubt) then he will but his words will always contradict his expression

jaehyun can say “are you nervous, y/n?” with a smirk but his ears keep giving him away!!!!

mfer’s hands are shaking too when he trails it over your body. in disbelief you’re his.

sometimes shamelessly moans into the kiss LOL, not too loud but he whines when you pull away, and has to kiss you breathless again

when you kiss him, expect like a long-lasting kiss. doesn’t mind small pecks and stuff but he’ll want to savour your lips a little longer than a mere peck

jaehyun likes your neck too. when you’re hugging his face is always in your neck, placing small little butterfly kisses

you need to look out for him, always. mans always tripping over something at some point. it’s become more frequent now that he has you and my god he’s so unable to keep his eyes off of you that he trips over simple things. he once tripped over nothing

on the daily when he’s not tripping over you, he’s clumsy in a sense where he drops food on the table. he once struggled to tie up his growing hair into a mini ponytail bc it was just too little hair. the hair tie slipped from his fingers and shot itself into your face - those kinds of small small mishaps

it’s endearing but sometimes you can’t help but laugh at him

likes to take you out on impromptu dates. dates that are close by and easy to plan (?) i guess.

not saying jaehyun is a lazy boyfriend but he likes the more candid dates where you decide what to do as you go along. of course if it’s a big day like your anniversary or birthdays then he’d want to plan something out.

other than that, he just either lets you choose the places to go there or you two decide along the way. he doesn’t want to impose options for you and pressure you. if he’s being honest, he wouldn’t know where to go either lol so he just follows wherever you bring him

laughs so much when he’s with you. giggles, deep laugh, whatever you name it. your relationship is very light-hearted and he finds that he’s the one laughing more when you deliver jokes even tho he wants to make you laugh too

i can’t lie… his jokes can be dry sometimes i’m sorry jaehyun 😭 so he backs it up with laughter and has to catch his breath sometimes bc he finds it really funny

you’re not laughing at the joke, rather at his laugh so you might have to tell him that some way or another bc he’ll just keep making bad jokes i’m sorry y’all

he can’t handle the suuuuuper cheesy physically affectionate films or series (with shitty plot) but i feel like if the story’s interesting enough he’ll pay attention. likes bittersweet films too, i feel, gets him thinking

doesn’t mind cliched plots (fake dating / idealist girl meets realist boy / idk any others lol) but would propose something at the end that he thinks will make the movie/series more interesting

jaehyun likes to share his theories with you

unironically wants to learn the la la land tap dance scene with you. he ALWAYS hums city of stars too, no matter what. idk why but it sticks to him, in bed, in breakfast, when he’s doing something random

he did it once on the radio and he received a text from you in break that told him he was humming along to the song

with that said, jaehyun wants to try out the stuff in the rain quite a bit. making out, dancing, lying down, running, he likes that fascination that society has with doing things in the rain

doesn’t like it too much that he’ll get soaked, but as long as you’re with him and willing to do it, he’s all for it

jaehyun would def want kids in the future. wants to dote on them and buy them stuff and whatnot. wants to see them running around the house with laughter while you both struggle to contain the bursts of excitement they have

doesn’t care for the dynamic much. if he’s the one to stay at home to take care of them while you work, he can work with it. if it’s the other way round, he’s okay too

he just worries that if he’s still involved with the entertainment industry, you might have to take a back seat since he’ll be the one earning the money, and he doesn’t want babysitters either.

heart is so so full when he comes back home and you’re just playing with the kids, or singing them to sleep. any sight of you with him is enough to make him melt into a puddle

HAS to hold them even if they’re asleep. wants to always have them close to him while he nudges you to shower or get the food ready.

like jaehyun, he would wanna meet someone in a vinyl shop or bookstore. he knows it’s cliched but the thought of meeting someone when you’re buying something is exciting. anything unexpected for him, he welcomes it

the next few are just random, miscellaneous headcanons: he likes to see you in his clothes, preferably with nothing underneath. just his shirt lol. cheeky man

jaehyun likes it when you shower together (again, nothing sexual, just likes the domesticity)

likes it when you fall asleep on him

will never stop gushing about you to his parents, first time you met them they’re like “he’s told us so much about you!” and he really did

feels comfortable in your presence, no makeup, messy hair, no need for a perfect bod. he’s just jaehyun. jung yuno if you will

adores it when you call him “lover” i mean boyfriend is good, significant other is good, but lover is just chef’s kiss

it is a bit cheesy if you think about it, so it’s not often that you say it. when you do say it in songs when you’re singing it to him, he can’t stop smiling

plays lover, you should’ve come over when he’s on tour bc it’s the closest thing he can get to a replica of how he feels for you

and when jaehyun falls asleep to the song, all he can remember is your honey voice singing it to him. he’ll just have to hold onto it before he can see you again

<3

[gillianthecat]

My favorite thing about The New Employee so far is the way Jong Chan looks at Seung Hyun. And grabs his wrist or takes his hand. Or leans his head on Seung Hyun’s shoulder. Or can’t stop touching him as he shows him off to their advertising clients. Plus I love his soft morning casual look with his hair down. Overall, I don’t think the show is quite for me, for a variety of reasons, but WOW can Kwon Hyuk convey desire. The pure want dripping off of him when he allows himself to let his mask drop. (And there are no dead fish kisses here, no sirree! I think we were worried suspicious last week because it looked like they were using fancy camera angles to hide bad kisses, but, uh, they do not need to do that.)

I am excited about the new complications introduced at the end though! Was the logo on the pen a connection to Seung Hyun’s college crush, Yoo Seong? (Would I recognize it if I’d been paying more attention?) What is Jong Chan’s relationship with Yoo Seung’s anyway? And who is the mysterious person Yoo Seung is in love with? (You can see I have a bit of second lead syndrome going on. He’s just so pretty.)

Needless to say, I’m going to keep watching despite my reservations, because I want to find out all the answers! And because I suspect that Seung Hyun and Jong Chan will change quite a bit over the course of the story, and I’m curious to see who they become.

My other favorite thing is continues to be how explicitly queer this show is, as @heretherebedork says here (and other places).

I had decided to keep this post positive, but I can’t resist complaining. Or at least talking about the parts that aren’t working for me. Besides my general struggles with the ad agency office setting, which I’ve complained about anytime anything like it comes up, I’m just not that into a smiley eager puppy of a protagonist. It’s why I didn’t connect as much with Choco/Jungwoo in Choco Milk Shake, it’s probably part of the reason PayuRain never worked for me. And Seung Hyun is more complex than just an eager intern, but I’m still not really connecting with him. And part of that is that it feels like his eagerness and shyness compounds the already sizable power difference between the two. Which, given the ending, I suspect that dynamic will be upended soon, but it did make watching this episode less interesting to me because I wasn’t really feeling their connection. Which I realize is a me thing, and other people enjoy that kind of power dynamic much more. I felt Jong Chan’s physical attraction for sure, and Seung Hyun’s admiration (hero worship perhaps?) but I’m not really sure what they like about each other. I guess it just feels like they don’t actually know each other yet. Which I suppose might be the point, at this moment of their arc. Lee Boem even said basically as much, that this awkward getting to know each other stage is fun. So I think I’ve talked myself around to appreciating how their courtship is being depicted, at least intellectually. If this is just the calm before the storm, if it’s actually setting them up for a crisis that deepens their relationship, then it works.

Perhaps the problem is that everything about their date seemed stressful to me. Watching them sitting alone in a dark, cold (it looked like the kind of place that would be over air conditioned) fancy restaurant, too nervous to have a real conversation, made me want to walk out of there on Seung Hyun’s behalf. Not that he wanted to leave, I was just projecting. And if we count the ad pitch as a second date, which I think we can since it was clearly part of their courting, well, that seems even more miserable. But again, very much a me thing, the characters were clearly thrilled by it.

The other thing I struggle with is the interjections in of the manwha comic that’s telling Seung Hyun’s story as he’s living it? I don’t understand the purpose of these fourth wall breaks, or fantasy elements, or whatever it’s supposed to be, and so I just find them annoying. Like, it doesn’t feel so far like it’s connected to anything else in the story, or helping Seung Hyun learn something, or otherwise is meaningful, just like they’re trying to be cute. It doesn’t help that I don’t like most manwha/comic/manga drawing styles, including thus one, and I’d rather spend the time on the actors’ faces.

And, like many Korean BL, the run time is just too short for the story they’re trying to tell, so it leaves things feeling rushed and unfinished. Alas.

Despite all my criticisms, I am very curious to see where this goes, so I will keep watching. And, as I said above, there are many things I like, I just needed to get my complaints off my chest.

(oh, and the sound effects! (one last complaint and then I'll stop for real.) I continue to not be a fan of comedic sound effects, although these at least are well matched and timed. I think its part of the same issue as the vaguely supernatural manwha; the show is going for a comedic slapstick one when I want a bit more seriousness from it. I'm very particular about slapstick, I love it when well executed, but it annoys me when not, and I have a high threshold for well executed. Kabe Koji is the only thing I can remember recently succeeding for me in that regard.)

[theseerasures]

RWBY V08C14 reaction post

haven’t done something like this for this fandom yet, but the finale was so much all at once that i could not muster any level of critical thinking the first go-around. my thoughts have...settled somewhat with a second rewatch. still nothing conclusive (obviously), but at least coherent enough to be written down.

in rough chronological order:

i am very into it, of course, but i’m still not quite sure what to make of the fact that this finale very explicitly pivots around Winter Schnee, to the extent that the episode (sans prologue and coda) are bookended by her. she begins the episode charging into a fight, and ends it the same way. even putting aside that her in-universe presence has increased by magnitudes, that we end a season where she has mostly been a sparse supporting player with THIS has implications i can’t suss out for her narrative role going forward.

going into the finale i thought that Ironwood vs. Winter would turn out to be another RWBY Flagship Fight (ie long and flashy and indulgent in the best ways), but i pretty much knew that wouldn’t be the case once the fight began in earnest and they immediately started talking to each other.

for what we did get i’m happy to say that the Core Dynamic of the fight was exactly what i predicted: Winter rushing in to melee and not giving Ironwood enough time to fire, Ironwood trying to make room by shoving her away and using his cannon as a makeshift club--even down to breaking the cannon formation BACK to dual wielding to give himself an edge.

i will say that for Winter to have blocked him head-on--this is James Ironwood, who once stopped an Alpha Beowolf cold with one bionic hand, and now he’s got TWO--with her broken noodle arms is...incredibly cool. stupid! but cool.

Ironwood doing the double pistol whip while screaming about how no one is grateful has i wouldn’t have to be doing this if you just behaved all over it.

in retrospect i’m not sure why i expected a RWBY Flagship Fight when just about every fight this season has been extremely different. the camera work is always fucking frantic, we’re often cross-cutting between different simultaneous fights, and there are far fewer shots where both combatants are clearly shown and evenly matched. about the only fight we’ve had resembling that is AceOps vs Penny waaaaaaay back in Strings--even the low-stakes triumphant JNPER + Winter vs. Ironwood fight in Creation was extremely short and crosscut with BRA vs. AceOps.

case in point: the showdown in Grand Central takes up pretty much the entire episode, but combatants are continuously entering and exiting, the setting’s physical dimensions feel wonky and surreal, and the fact that half of the people fighting have flight capabilities means we’re relying on wide shots and oners to figure out what the fuck is going on. it’s a war now, and even though we follow only a handful of characters in it the fights carry that grander and more desperate tone.

Cinder relies twice this episode on just fucking nova-ing herself to overwhelm her Maiden opponents. it’s different from how she usually fights, which is still fireballs and conjured swords/projectiles--she’s learning to use her Maiden powers to wreak havoc on a larger scale, which a) reinforces what we already know of Cinder, but b) complements her recent relearning of subtlety and manipulation. still a tenuous balance of extremes that can and will shatter, though.

Weiss got to save everyone during the fight, and none of it mattered in the end.

the thing about priority one is that they all planned for this. they all went in planning for the contingency where they don’t make it out, where they have to watch others not make it out.

Weiss plucking Penny out of the air and Penny pleading to make the sacrifice play is an EXACT recreation of what happened in Enemy of Trust, down to the saved looking up at the savior while the savior is looking onward. she’s just swapped places with the Schnee in question, and...they are the priority targets this time, unfortunately.

Cinder smugly flipping her hair out of...her eyepatch...she really is living her best life and she knows it

Blake made the right choice, and it didn’t matter at all.

Qrow ending the last episode with a berserker charge at Harriet and then immediately pulling back here and trying to talk her down really got to me, as did him trying to block the bomb with his body. the man is so desperately trying to be better than he was, and it doesn’t take a lot anymore for him to realize the right path.

Elm and Vine--

the thing about Elm and Vine is that both their powers boil down to getting attached. so watching Elm hold Vine in place while Vine holds the two airships together, everyone in this little world, it’s...everything i could ever want, out of how the story of the AceOps would end.

Anairis Quinones for dark horse MVP. why can’t you just let me do my job, delivered in the way that it was, is the perfect encapsulation of Harriet Bree desperately trying to outrun her personal feelings and the grief it has given her.

Elm tells Harriet that she’s their friend, to stop her from killing a part of herself as she tries to kill others. it’s the first time this happens in the episode, but not the only time.

Penny saved Blake so they could save Ruby together, and it didn’t matter at all.

our heroes have GOT to stop falling for the “watch the thing flying in the air! OH WAIT I STILL HAVE A WEAPON IN MY HAND WALLOP WALLOP” trick. it happens multiple times in this one episode.

Harriet, who has the fastest Speed Semblance known, says there’s no time to make it out of the blast range. she doesn’t try to outrun it. she just...stays put, and admits that she brought them all here, to this. i’m sorry.

here’s the thing: they’re soldiers. they were prepared for this eventuality, where they don’t make it out. that’s why Elm let Vine go grab Harriet; because she thought they were all going to die, and if that happened she wanted Harriet close enough to reach.

but--just like with Team Hero--some of them do make it out. they just have to watch.

Vine and Hazel sacrificed themselves in the same way in the end: pulling their loved ones close wasn’t working, so they threw themselves around the thing trying to kill them instead.

Ruby was clever, and pragmatic, and brave. it didn’t matter in the end.

Cinder letting Neo fall as soon as she gets a chance proves that she still lacks patience, and that’s going to bite her in the ass.

the Penny-Blake fastball special and the fall; Penny crying tears for the first time, but not moving immediately to rage, as she had last episode, when Yang fell.

Weiss’ shaking hands around Gambol Shroud, crying berserker tears as she tries, desperately, to pull off another miracle. it’s another role reversal in a way: her sister’s the Riza Hawkeye, but she’s the one emptying useless clip after useless clip into an enemy she can’t kill, because her heart has been ripped in two.

the last time Nora Valkyrie saw Jaune Arc, they clasped hands, and their eyes met with determination, and hope.

it figures that a Schnee would be the last one standing, letting all her friends die first. she was right, but again: wrong Schnee.

Weiss diving past Cinder’s blind spot to slice the Grimm Arm, to save Penny--the same script, but the wrong player. and too late.

at Haven, Jaune went from trying to do harm to unlocking his Semblance, and realizing that he was meant to heal. here, he goes from trying to do what he is meant to do, what he has made peace with, to...

it will take a long time, i think, for him to learn to live with himself, even with Penny reassuring him that this is what she wants. to go from wanting to harm to being the one who does no harm, to being forced to acknowledge a person’s right to die, and carry out the deed himself. it’s a new variation on what he’s always had to wrestle with since Pyrrha’s sacrifice.

Weiss managed to outlast Cinder Fall without an Aura WITHOUT getting her entire body broken, Winter

the boundary between material worlds is made of darkness. the boundary between souls is made of light, and there is no danger of falling.

where...what is this? of course Winter doesn’t know. she never would have, even if she had gotten the powers, because she would have used the Transfer machine.

i thought of you, and here we are. that was all it took. the last time Penny saw Winter, Winter was still loyal to Ironwood. she’s only known abstractly, secondhand from Weiss, that Winter was on their side again and trying to help save Mantle, for about an hour. and yet: i thought of you.

and in the face of this thought that is love, Winter averts her eyes. tries in vain to hide her face, because she knows she is unworthy. she doesn’t deserve this.

but here’s the thing: no one deserves this. Penny. are you...the one? even Penny herself wasn’t sure.

you were my friend. the second time it happens this episode. friends save friends from themselves. friends transform what would have been murder into sacrifice.

remember what Penny said to Cinder, shortly before Cinder killed her? you wouldn’t know anything about friends. she’s right. it wasn’t Cinder’s choice, but she’s right. and now Cinder has learned how to use that.

i’ll be part of you. it is, of course, something that’s been brought up repeatedly this whole season. but it’s also what Winter said to Penny after Fria died: she’s a part of you now.

and i do love this yoking together of arc words. Winter is of course the firstborn Schnee, but Winter is, more broadly, The Firstborn in this new generation. so here we have something similar to the chain that begins with Winter letting her sisters go, through Penny letting Emerald go, through Emerald helping Oscar escape, to Atlas’ however ephemeral victory over Salem. what Winter begins--haltingly and with resentment--becomes transformed into radiant grace in the hands of her younger siblings. and she gets to be the direct benefactor this time. the prodigal daughter returns to her family.

during Enemy of Trust we watched from the outside as Oscar fell and Penny rose, as one set of eyes closed as another opened. during The Final Word, we watch from the inside: one set of eyes close. another opens.

Winter’s leitmotif plays on the piano for the first time since the previous season as she comes back to the world. it makes sense. the piano version is for her sisters, and she just left one of them.

here is the apotheosis of Winter Schnee: she gets back up. she falters and sways but she gets back up, and then she, the person who once managed to convince herself that so long as she could make peace with someone else’s choice it meant she too was choosing, tells the man who has been choosing for her for years: you chose nothing. and she rises.

in the end James Ironwood was finished by his petard thrice over. Atlas had defected against him. his greatest creation had become the Maiden and unshackled herself from him. and there is of course, the cannon: a literal petard, in the other words, which he fires at Winter, and Winter reflects back upon him.

Jaune Arc used the heirloom that his family has held for generations to kill a defenseless girl. he took the blade and sunk it in deep, because Penny trusted him and he had to be sure.

and then it shattered in his hands.

there’s something here in the second fight between Maidens, about Cinder having a named weapon and forsaking it for what she can make on the fly, and Winter insistent on using a weapon with no name at all, but i still can’t put my finger on it.

Winter never got to see Weiss try to Summon her Nevermore.

the thing that gets me about how it turns out is: Winter was winning. she’d managed to get her hands on the Staff, and even with Cinder’s immediate counterattack she managed to get the Staff away from Cinder. but then Cinder saw Jaune and Weiss, and she remembered a few days ago, when Penny saved Winter instead of going after Cinder, when Winter attacked Cinder to save Penny.

so Cinder attacks Weiss and Jaune instead of racing for the Staff. and Winter--

this is Winter Schnee. she saves people despite herself. she runs toward them, despite herself. and it has always, always been what saves her.

not anymore.

last time it had been Winter who was in mortal danger, and Weiss who, with Ruby’s help, drove Cinder off. same script, wrong player. and too late.

Weiss falls and for a moment, the camera makes it seem like Winter is falling too.

she wants to. no one deserves this.

the thing you have to ask when characters leap for the exit and fall just short is: is it about faith, or friendship? in Jaune’s case it’s both. his faith broke with Crocea Mors. and the portal is one-way, so he had no friends to grab him from the other side.

but Nora was still trying. they clasped hands. she promised.

the first time Winter sees her family--really sees them, after years of separation--she averts her eyes. she hides her face from them, because how can she tell them that Weiss is gone? how can she tell Penny’s friends that Penny is a part of her now, when Penny is just a part, now?

there are people all around her looking to her. there are voices within her. she has never been more alone.

(Winter Schnee has never met Pyrrha Nikos, and Pyrrha Nikos never became Maiden. because Pyrrha Nikos never became Maiden. Cinder Fall did that, too.)

this is what Winter Schnee thinks, as she screams and charges, as she kills Grimm faster than they are drawn in by her despair: in the fairy tales, eldest siblings never win.

i failed you again, master. master, but not queen.

Cinder won this. the heroes tried and tried and tried and none of it mattered, and she won this. but here’s the thing: Cinder won because she was LUCKY, and because she made her own luck. that she was able to pin things on Neo and Team Hero depended on things going exactly as planned, and some things going better than planned. and the reason she’d even made it that far was because she cheated, with the last use of a divine relic. it doesn’t take away her from her victory, but what i do know is this: this is her finest moment. she will never win as completely ever again, and she will fall farther than she has ever feared. (and that will save her, in the end.)

and that’s checkmate. i said that i wanted Atlas to fall the same way that Amity rose, but of course they did it like this. of course it would horrific yet unspectacular, with its General slumped in defeat, unable to fire a single shot from his gun. with the city in the sky falling onto Mantle, in Mantle’s palette. from the Dust from which it arose into Dust again.

as below, so above.

[saffronique]

I Read Leopardstar's Honor So You Don't Have To: A Review (Not Spoiler Free)

Oh Leopardstar. A cat who has long divided the fanbase as a leader beloved by some and despised by others. After years of waiting (for some) she was finally given her own super edition. In a word it was... underwhelming.

Introduction:

The book opens during Leopardstar's kithood days. The first scene is adorably heartwarming- readers are treated to Leopardkit and her denmates playing the warriors version of hide and seek, and there are some absolutely adorable moments here, such as Crookedjaw helping Leopardkit escape the seeker by whisking her away on his back, and Mudfur doting on his daughter. The scene takes a sharp turn when Skykit, one of Leopardkit's denmates, lures her away from the group to shove her head underwater and berate her for giving away Skykit's hiding place in the last round of hide and seek. Skykit's actions are startlingly cruel here, as she tells Leopardkit that she's a rotten kit that killed her own mother and that she is doomed to the dark forest like all the other murderers. This understandably disturbs and traumatizes Leopardkit, and when she speaks to her father about it, Mudfur reassures her that she is good, and that Brightsky came to him in a dream to say that Leopardkit will one day save RiverClan. Leopardkit latches on to this dream, and the book follows her through relatively disjointed moments in her life as she tries to live up to her destiny.

Pacing:

The pacing of the book is an absolute nightmare. We don't spend long enough in any one part of Leopardstar's life to see her have any meaningful interactions with other cats, and thus the majority of the relationships she has seem surface level at best, forced at worse, with Whiteclaw being a notable exception. She spends maybe 3 chapters as a kit, 3 as an apprentice, 3 as a warrior, 2 as a mentor, and so on. As a result, we don't actually get the opportunity to see Leopardstar learning or struggling in a meaningful way at any point. We're TOLD she's a hard worker, that she's dedicated and loyal, but the book gives you little chance to actually see it. The book slows down long enough to force an almost love story with Frogtail, which Leopardstar ultimately gives up on to focus on her work, but then a few chapters later Frogtail is dead and it's back to jumping around through her life.

The book really suffers from a lack of side characters and relationships to help things feel connected. The only real through line is this silly dream from Mudfur-not even an official prophecy- that Leopardstar focuses on to the exclusion of all else. Compare this to Crookedstar's Promise and Bluestar's Prophecy- while both books feature a greater destiny that the characters focus on throughout the book, they are given the chance to develop meaningful relationships that last for large chunks of the book. Bluestar has her relationship with her sister and her rivalry with Thistleclaw, and even her friendship with Thrushpelt, all of which allow her story to feel genuine and naturally lend themselves to interesting subplots. Crookedstar has his relationship with Mapleshade, his romance with Willowbreeze, his desire to prove himself to his mother- again, all things that make him feel like a well rounded, multifaceted character. Leopardstar has her dream, and ONLY her dream. None of her friendships last more than a few chapters before the other character is killed off. Her most meaningful relationship, with her apprentice and adopted son Whiteclaw, has the potential to round out Leopardstar's character, but Whiteclaw's fate has been predetermined. We all know he's going to die in the gorge because we see it happen in Fire and Ice. After Whiteclaw's death, Leopardstar briefly has a compelling relationship with Silverstream after she discovers her relationship with Graystripe. Silverstream and Leopardstar have opposing priorities of love and duty, and the interactions between them are an interesting insight into both characters. Silverstream actively rebukes Leopardstar's mindset and challenges her priorities, something that would have been invaluable in making Leopardstar's choice to join Tigerstar seem more consequential. But Silverstream too is doomed to die, and by the time the book reaches its climax, Mudfur is the only cat left to challenge Leopardstar's choices. Instead of letting the rift between father and daughter build, Leopardstar has no problem simply banishing her father and medicine cat for disagreeing with her. No one that she cares about is left to challenge her for her decisions, and thus there are no real stakes to the choices she makes. Sure, Stonefur dies and its awful, but the book doesn't bother to develop any real friendship or camaraderie between the two, so it doesn't feel as impactful as it should. The book concludes with Leopardstar understanding that she's wrong and Mudfur convincing her that she's going to save the Clan from the disaster she helped create. At the very least, Leopardstar seems to understand the problems with this and points out that it's not really her saving the Clans, its Firestar. This is completely true, as she has no role in Tigerstar's downfall and no role in stopping Scourge. The best that can be said for Leopardstar is that she doesn't get in the way of Firestar here.

She faces no real struggles aside from her father's doubt as to her ability to lead, a dynamic already witnessed between Brambleberry and Crookedstar and done much better.

Awful editing:

This book suffers from an almost unbelievable lack of care on the part of the editors, with big chunks of text very obviously cut and pasted to different parts of the story without any effort to edit out nonsequitors. The most painful instance of this revolves around Stormpaw and Featherpaw's apprenticeship. In one scene, Leopardstar comments on the fact that Primrosekit and Pikekit will be made apprentices any day (Reedkit is inexplicably absent here, and Perchkit seems to have died offscreen though it is never mentioned) and notes that Stormkit and Featherkit still have their kit fluff and look tiny next to their older denmates. A couple paragraphs later, we see Featherkit and Stormkit being apprenticed to Mistyfoot and Stonefur, in a paragraph that EXPLICITLY STATES that it's the very next day. The other kits have mysteriously been apprenticed already. Boulder and Jaggedtooth of ShadowClan are inexplicably present at the ceremony, despite there being no mention of their arrival at any point and Leopardstar refusing Tigerstar's offer to join their two Clans together the day before. A few pages later (yes, literally just pages later, that's how atrocious the pacing is) we cut to a battle between RiverClan and ThunderClan at the Sunningrocks, where Stonefur and Mistyfoot's parentage is revealed. Leopardstar doesn't actually hear this, but she does overhear them discussing it in the most painfully forced way possible moments later. Leopardstar finds herself absolutely HORRIFIED that she's apprenticed two half-Clan cats to half-Clan mentors.... and then a few chapters later, after forming TigerClan, Tigerstar asks her if she still intends to make Mistyfoot and Stonefur mentors to Featherkit and Stormkit despite their parentage, to which Leopardstar responds that they are still loyal RiverClan warriors. Yes, I'm serious.

Leopardstar's character:

This super edition is nothing but a showcase of the absolute worst aspects of Leopardstar as a character. Throughout the book she is shown as racist, battle hungry, self-centered, foolish, and utterly lacking in compassion or even pity for any Clan other than her own. She is constantly making racist generalizations about cats from other Clans, actively wishes for WindClan's downfall, sides with Tigerstar simply because Fireheart is a kittypet, and, perhaps most disturbingly, tries to murder Fireheart in cold blood because of his kittypet background. This book literally does nothing to endear the reader to Leopardstar, it makes her out to be the most despicable, honorless cat imaginable. And honestly, if you're not a Leopardstar fan, I think that's one of the most compelling things about this book. The desire to see what atrocities Leopardstar would commit next was what kept me interested in the story, honestly it was the only reason I finished it. There was something morbidly fascinating about watching a character so self absorbed and lacking in compassion interact with the world around her. It was enjoyable in a way to see a character so deeply set in the beliefs that the series has repeatedly established as wrong time and time again. Pacing and editing aside, this difference in philosophy is a breath of fresh air after the same recycled plotlines and moral messages that the series has been using for years. This book isn't going to make you like Leopardstar, but it is going to make you love to hate her.

What the book did right:

While there were very few positives to the book, it wasn't completely lacking in value. The book succeeded in developing a deeply meaningful relationship between Whiteclaw and Leopardstar that, thankfully, wasn't a romance. Their mother/son and mentor/apprentice relationship does a good job at setting up Leopardstar's grudge against ThunderClan over Whiteclaw's death as we see it play out in the first arc. Honestly, Leopardstar as a character would have been served far better if this had just been a novella detailing the relationship between these two. That was probably the only real thing of value in the book, honestly. Aside from that, Frogtail and Leopardstar's relationship, while I personally found it completely unnecessary, addressed a topic I've been hoping to see in warriors for a while now-- two characters who love each other but decide that the things they want out of life are mutually incompatible, and part ways amicably. Leafpool x Crowfeather and Bluestar x Oakheart both almost did this, but fell short because it was only ever really one character who decided to end the relationship. Unfortunately, the value in this message is somewhat diminished by the fact that Leopardstar later laments multiple times that she should've given up on her goals and just had kits with Frogtail instead, an absolutely disgusting conclusion that plays into the recurring problem of misogyny in warriors where women aren't allowed to be both mothers and hold a position of power, they have to choose between the two.

All in all, this Super Edition is easily the worst so far in terms of plot, pacing, and writing, but I still found some enjoyment in reading the perspective of such a selfish, cruel protagonist.

[theroyalmisfitmess]

Thoughts on 2x06 aka iBuild a Team

Gonna jump right in and say that the episode did not disappoint. The pacing was done right and the plot was both entertaining and essential to so many aspects of the show. I know Josh Peck is only set to appear twice this season but I’m hoping he becomes a recurring character who’ll show up about 3-4 times a season.

First, let’s talk about the main plot. I think it was good of the show to address the business of the characters’ lives. With Freddie’s start-up taking off, we really should ask if he still has enough time to help Carly with the web show. It has slight parallels to the original when they were trying to get help from others and the dynamic just doesn't seem to be working out. To add, even though Sam was not explicitly mentioned in the episode, I like to think that the importance of her presence in the iCarly team was hinted at. The team was always mainly the trio, so with them down to two, it really is more difficult for Carly and Freddie to brainstorm and have balance amongst workload.

Second, the subplot. Though really entertaining, unlike 2x05, I did not particularly enjoy this ep's subplot. While I did like to see it be a bit focused on Harper, it was simply all over the place. I think Harper deserves her own main plot soon enough because of how interesting her life is (from a trust fund baby to a barista to stylist). The mention of Dutch gave me a thought that she might eventually come back, which is exciting to see. However, Millicent being reduced this season is overly disappointing. I wish to see her have more agency like she did in season one eps—the one with Gwen, the Sunshine Girls subplot, and her helping Spencer convince Freddie in the finale.

Third, the callbacks to the original show. From the very first scene we saw The Sack! Again, Sam wasn't explicitly mentioned in the episode, but minor details such as these somewhat serve as manifestations of her presence and how the characters are remembering/thinking about her. I have to give it to Nathan Kress for fighting to keep the claustrophobia callback. Details like these were woven so neatly in the show in a way where old fans like me would have a fun time with recalls but new fans won't necessarily have a hard time understanding. Also, I liked that Mandy mention. I wonder if we'll ever see her again?

Finally—and I know y'all are waiting for this—let's talk about the progress of romantic Creddie. I love how things are being taken slowly. It seems as if Carly doesn't really have intense jealousy yet, which is okay with me as I want a build-up. On another note, it was good to get to see Freddie's side of their situation. So far, we have more hints on what Carly feels so it is interesting that despite the maturity and solid platonic relationship Freddie has with Carly, he still feels minor jealousy with specific aspects such as iCarly.

Now I'm not saying that Freddie necessarily feels jealous in a romantic sense, but iCarly is a familiar safety net for Freddie. Career-wise, he'll always have it whether Kevin fails or not. Love life-wise, and I am gonna steal this insight from someone on YouTube whom I forgot, the show was technically built by Freddie. He built it not only because he saw talent in the two girls who eventually became his best friends, but also because of his intense crush for Carly. That crush he had eventually turned into genuine love (both platonic and romantic), so his attachment to the show has a lot of factors and layers. We can see this hint through the tarot bit which, although was slight entertainment factor, showed a lot about Freddie. I still don't know how their romance will play out, but one thing's for sure, we have already established groundwork for the intense drama.

To end I just want to say that I'm really excited for what's to come with the show. Adding to that, my sincerest apologies for this late post. The elections in my country were in play and the presumptive results took a toll on me. Side-note, if you've read up over what's happening in the Philippines, please do. The whole world must know how the situation is right now.

[norahastuff]

the unrequited love thing just bothers me so much. No-one had any issues seeing Cas/Hannah as a valid ship in the show when Cas wasn't even really interested in her. We've had a decade worth of romantic signals from Dean, but somehow destiel is unrequited. such a goddamn tragedy that they couldn't find their way back to each other one last time when that is their whole ~dynamic~

Yes, all of this. Exactly. Honestly, it’s been so frustrating to keep hearing the word unrequited thrown around so much lately. What about this dynamic has ever seemed unrequited? I’ve done this before but I’ve been really annoyed about it lately so should we make a list?

What about Dean feeling so personally betrayed by Cas in The Man Who Would Be King? Or Sam and Bobby walking on eggshells around Dean and taking care to very delicately approach bringing up the possibility of Cas doing something shady because they knew how hard Dean was going to take it? They knew it would be different for him than it would be for both of them.

Or how about Dean keeping Cas’ trenchcoat, and not only keeping it - he could have stashed it at Bobby’s or left it in the trunk of the Impala - but no he kept it with him, moved it from car to car. And this isn’t a last-minute development that they decided to throw into 7x17 when Cas returned, we see glimpses of the coat in other episodes before this, a consistent reminder that Dean’s carrying it around with him. That losing Cas is weighing on him.

How about Dean wondering why he could usually get over things but for some reason with Cas he couldn’t and he just didn’t know why. 

For that matter...do you think there is anybody else that Dean would forgive for hurting Sam? For betraying him? Sure Dean is mad at Cas but more than anything he wanted to fix things. Despite everything, he needed Cas to be a part of his life. 

How about that time Dean spent a year in purgatory looking for Cas, praying to him every night? In Dean’s mind, Sam is out there alone doing God knows what trying to get him back. I mean Sam didn’t, he’d let Dean go, but Dean assumed he was still looking. And yet Dean didn’t go back to Sam even though he could. He stayed for a year looking for Cas. Because he needed to. He needed him. Purgatory was pure remember? Dean had clarity there. He understood his wants, needs, and emotions.

Or you know just that one little thing about how Dean changed his own memories of what happened when he got separated from Cas because the thought of failing Cas was less painful than the idea that Cas would choose to stay in purgatory instead of leaving with him.

“We need you. I need you.” You know all about this one, I don’t need to say more.

The angels knowing exactly what would hurt Dean, knowing how much he cared about Cas and using that against him: 

“The very touch of you corrupts. When Castiel first laid a hand on you in hell he was lost!” 

“I know you’re hoping Castiel will return to you. I only wish that he felt the same way.”

Miriam: Bieber in there he can do almost anything. Dean: Anything? (and for the first time since Cas died we see Dean experience a moment of hope...and then...) Miriam: Oh sweetie, almost anything. Castiel he’s dead, all the way dead, because of you.

Dean staring wistfully at Cas through a Gas n Sip window for god knows how long. Actually you know what, that whole episode. 

Cas being Dean’s Colette. That’s not subtext. You can argue with the execution, but the parallel was spelled out. And actually for that matter in Chuck’s drafts or alternate futures/ timelines or whatever that he was showing Sam, Dean was the one who was broken after losing Cas to the Mark of Cain, Dean was the one who had to bury him in Ma’lak box. Dean was the one who had to stop him. So I mean not only was Cas Dean’s Colette, but Dean was Cas’ Colette too.

Dean reacting very differently than Sam to Cas’ decision to say yes to Lucifer. Dean’s worry. Dean desperately calling out to Cas over and over again to try reach him and get him to eject Lucifer. Dean resisting Amara for Cas. Lucifer and Amara being very surprised by this. Amara using Cas to try to get to Dean. 

Dean’s very different reactions to all things Cas in s12. This one would need it’s own post, but let’s just say there was a lot of focus on Dean and Cas in s12 and most of it was on how intensely Dean felt for Cas. 

Dean made him a Led Zeppelin mixtape. And then proceeded to get mad at himself for letting Cas use it to come into his room and play him. Which isn’t exactly what happened (though it sort of is) but that’s exactly what went down from Dean’s perspective, and that kind of move would only work if Dean truly cared about Cas. Going into someone’s room and playing on their feelings for you by using a romantic gift they gave you, only works if that person has feelings for you that can be played with.

12x23. Sam having to pull Dean away from Cas at the rift because Dean was intent on chasing after Cas. Dean falling to his knees by Cas’ body unable and unwilling to think about anything else and leaving Sam to face the nephilim. Sam knowing better than to even try to move Dean.

Widower arc. I would elaborate but do I need to?

And finally all of their arc in s15. No part of that was one sided. 

I actually can’t believe we have to keep having this conversation. Before it seemed like we kept having to somehow “prove” there was a romantic element to Dean and Cas’ relationship. Now that they have explicitly stated in canon that there is, the conversation seems to have shifted to how it’s one sided. Look I’m as frustrated as anyone that Dean didn’t get to say anything, but we never considered their relationship one sided before. That’s certainly not what I saw in the show.  Dude pines after his totes str8 bro friend who’s not into him is not a story I would have had any interest in. Looking at that long list above does it seem like it was one sided?

Whatever Cas felt for Dean, Dean felt it too. This has never seemed like a one sided narrative. Like you said just because the last page of the story was ripped out/wasn’t written (ie whatever you think went down) it doesn’t invalidate years upon years of consistent relationship building and emotional growth. Their story is incomplete not erased.

(And in relation to the Cas and Hannah of it all, a while back I did get curious and look that up, and you’re right. People had no problem with thinking of Cas and Hannah as romantic - when she was played by Erica Carroll. When Hannah returned in a male vessel, both Misha and the new actor Lee Majdoub played their relationship exactly the same way, the same heart eyes, the same gentle touches and soft spoken appreciation, but no one seemed to want to discuss Cas and Hannah’s romantic connection anymore. For reasons. Whatever could they be? I’m putting this in brackets though because I don’t have the sources on that and I have no intention of trawling through reddit/entertainment review sites/wherever I checked last time to find them. I do not have that in me. So there’s a chance I could be mistaken and people did discuss it, in which case I’d love to be proven wrong. Anyway that’s why this point is just at the end in brackets)

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About "Hunting Palismans" From The Owl House

Salutations, random people on the internet who certainly won’t read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

Today, I present to you reason #4,693 for why The Owl House is the best thing at the moment: It's the perfect balance of serialized storytelling with an episodic format. The story always moves forward with an exact order for how episodes should be watched, but each episode still functions as its own standalone tale. Having prior knowledge of what happened before adds more to the experience, but you can still watch whatever you want and still have an enjoyable time. Take "Hunting Palismans," for example. It adds so much more to the overarching narrative while slightly continuing other threads. But it's still something you can watch as is without remembering the past or wondering about the future.

However, to properly explain how requires spoilers. I wasn't kidding when I say that this episode adds so much, so you're going to want to be wary of that when you continue reading.

With that said, let's review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

Coven Heads Meeting: We already saw these fellow schmucks in the trailer, but that doesn't take away how cool they are! It's not explicitly stated which head belongs to which coven, but you can already tell who goes where just from their designs alone. And I love that. I love that just by showing us some excellent character designs, anybody with half a brain can already figure out the particular type of magic each Coven Head specializes in. It's a perfect example of the show-don't-tell level of storytelling that is always at its best through animation, and I'm all for it because of it.

What the Day of Unity is: Several fans, myself included, have already speculated that the Day of Unity was that Emperor Belos planned to combine the human world with the Boiling Isles and rule it all with an iron fist. That being said, figuring it out is one thing, but being told that it's true is a whole different level pants-s**ting horror that I AM NOT READY FOR! Even when it's going to happen, I can assure you that I will not be prepared to witness it ...and I am scared of when it does.

Belos Body Horror: ...Disney, I was already scared s**tless of this guy. I DO NOT NEED THIS!

That being said, seeing Belos do...whatever the f**k that was, helps explain further why he needs the magic in palismans. I always assumed because it's like fuel for a car, giving him the power he needs. Now, even though the answer is more apparent, there are still some questions to be had. Is he cursed, and the magic keeps it at bay like Eda's potions? Or did he experiment with the wrong type of magic, and the palismans keep him stable? Only the future can say for sure...and I'm also not prepared for the answers from that either.

Golden Guard is Belos’ Nephew: Gosh dangit, THE INTRO HASN'T EVEN STARTED YET, AND THIS EPISODE IS ALREADY GIVING SO MUCH!

But, yeah, the most powerful witch on the Isles is apparently Golden Boy's Grunkle Belos. That very knowledge is incredibly interesting to discuss while presenting possibilities for future narratives. I don't know about you, but I see the Golden Guard going down the path of Zuko, learning that the magic of friendship is worth much more than whatever power he gains from being Belos' nephew. And possibly earning his uncle's love seeing how he's the only family he has. It's a situation that's vastly different from Amity's because even when she defies her parents, she'll still have Edric and Emira at the end of the day. For Golden Guard, knowing that he lost a great family to wild magic, the inclination to go against Belos is a lot weaker due to him being all he has left.

Oh, and also, Belos' family getting wiped out because of wild magic. Yeah, not only does that give the best type of motivation for Belos' distaste for it, but it also explains the Golden Guard's hesitance to use it. He's inclined to so he can save his uncle, sure. It's only the fact that he knows what happens with wild magic that causes some resistance...Also, we're less than a minute in, and I'm already getting all of this from one discussion between two characters.

HOW IS THIS SHOW SO GOOD?!

Intro Changes: It's about time too. It seems weird that the crew waited to change Eda and King's designs in the intro this late in the game, but it also tells me that Amity dying her hair lavender is the last huge change this season will present. Otherwise, why change the intro at all if you were going to alter Luz, Willow, and Gus' designs anyway? It just doesn't make sense to me.

Luz Keeping the Echo Mouse as a Pet: The fact that she keeps the most important creature in the world to her as a pet...it's...it's adorable, alright? And as we established several times, I cannot hate adorable things.

Don't judge me!

Amity Staying Home: There are two plausible ways why Amity didn't go to school that day. Either she's getting punished for dying her hair or because she's trying to avoid Luz so they won't talk about the you-know-what. Either could work and seem understandable to Luz, thus explaining why she admits how "that makes sense." Although, there is something to discuss in how Luz is curious as to where Amity is. Judging from the tone of her voice, it's pretty clear that she wants to talk about the little peck on the cheek and maybe get some confirmation as to what it means. Because there is no going back from that. You can explain away saying or doing something stupid, but you cannot un-kiss a cheek. That is a point of no return, and if Amity really is avoiding Luz because of it, that means it's up to our favorite weirdo to make the first move. As for what that may entail...we'll just have to wait and see.

Frewin: We get two bits of information here for the price of one reveal here. Knowing that Frewin is a palisman is shocking enough, but the knowledge that Bump is partially blind and needs Frewin to see? That is an intriguing piece of intel that I would have never expected to get revealed. This is reason #5,279 for what makes The Owl House so good. Even when the show presents information you wouldn't guess, it's all so interesting anyways that you can't help but go along with it.

Adopting Palismans: First of all, love the fact that the Bat Queen makes a return to provide a solution to the palisman trees being rare and solving her own problem regarding the discarded palismans. It's a situation where everyone wins in a way that is so clever that I can't help but admire it.

Second, the idea of students choosing to adopt palismans instead is cute. I'd say it gives further insight into who these characters are in how they say what they want to be, but there's nothing really new added that fans couldn't figure out from the get go. But I will say that it's pretty cool to know that these characters have official staffs now. Speaking of which, if you're upset that their palismans don't match up with your headcanons...grow up.

This was a cute and smartly written scene that should not be bogged down by whiney fans who can't accept a series doing something different from what they expect.

Little Rascal: I’d take a bullet for this bird. That is all.

Luz Being Uncertain of her Future: A lot of fans offer several ideas of what the future could look like for Luz. Will she stay in the Boiling Isles? In Connecticut? Or will she go back and forth? We don't know, but one question we rarely brought up is what does Luz want? More specifically, what does she want to do? After everything Luz went through, the adventures she's gone on, and the lessons learned, what is something that Luz wants her future to be? That's an answer she doesn't really figure out, and I'm genuinely ok with that being a question that's tabled for another day. Most kids who ask that question themselves aren't always going to find an answer after a short amount of time and sometimes even need to spend their lives trying to figure it out. So having it be something Luz has to consider and probably find out in a future episode is the smarter option, as it allows time for it to simmer in her own mind and provides more insight into her character. As stated several times in this episode, she doesn't think things through, so it's nice that the writers finally allowed her some time to wonder what's next when the adventure is over.

Luz Having to Improvise Without Paper Glyphs: You want to know what my favorite Spider-Man moments are (this is relevant. Trust me). My favorite moments are when Spidey's web-shooters run out of fluid, and he's forced to improvise with that big brain of his to find a solution. That's sort of what happens with Luz in "Hunting Palismans." She didn't bring her glyphs with her (why would she), so she's forced to use the environment around her to make new ones. Plus, Luz also flexes her knowledge of the Boiling Isles by mixing her glyphs with a magical plant (which Willow certainly told her about) so that she and the Golden Guard could knock out Kikimora's dragon. It's yet another showcase of her intelligence that a lot of fans are too keen to overlook. Unfortunate to see, too, because looking at how well Luz can craft the perfect solutions by fighting smarter, not harder, is a fantastic add-on to her personality. I love characters who win through their wits rather than their raw powers, and I once again hope more people will catch onto that aspect of her too.

Golden Guard Whistling the Theme: Look, I love it when a show acknowledges its own theme song, ok? Leave me alone.

Luz and the Golden Guard: This is one of those dynamics you didn't know you wanted until you have it. And now that I have it, I DEMAND MORE!

Seriously, seeing these two interact off of each other was a ton of fun to watch. When Luz and GG are initially at each other's throats, their threats and mockery towards one another aren't out of spiteful anger between two mortal enemies. It's more like...two siblings who get on each other's nerves yet are supposed to deal with one another. It's equally adorable and hilarious, and yes, I absolutely loved that they're forced to work together in this episode because of it.

Although, while the entertainment value is fantastic, it also adds more proof of why Luz is the best character in the series. She spends one night with this guy, and that's more than what she needed to make a difference with him. I wouldn't go so far as to say that they're buddies now, but Luz definitely sowed the seeds into his redemption. He's far from willing to join her side, but he still does something he rarely does with anyone else: He told her that his name is Hunter. And this is what Luz does. Through nearly every person she meets on the Boiling Isles, she always manages to change them for the better. It'll be a while before Hunter deflects from Belos, but if Amity proves anything, Luz has a way of sneaking into people's hearts. They just need to spend more time with one another, and I can't wait to see what happens next because of it.

Kikimora Wanting to Kill Hunter: This shows a lot about who Kikimora is, but it potentially proves just how dysfunctional the Emperor's Coven can be. If Kiki proves anything, the coven must be filled with people willing to backstab and cheat their way to get on Emperor Belos' good side. Just look at Lilith. She literally cursed her own sister just to get in and received all the rewards because of it. The Emperor's Coven may be the best choice for witches to do magic, but if you're surrounded by people you can't trust, then is it really worth it?

The Guards Not Knowing Who Hunter is: This helps add to how much of a big deal it is for Hunter to reveal his name to Luz. If people can't even recognize his face, there's a chance it means that he keeps his true identity a secret except for those in his inner circle.

And the coven guards brushing off his brand is more than believable to me. They may be aware that Belos' right hand is young, but teens will be teens. Anybody with enough artistic talent can fake a brand. So it isn't too far off for those two to think Hunter was just a kid pulling a prank.

Hunter is Powerless Without his Staff: Not much to say here. It's just some more neat insight into Hunter's character that makes me wonder if even Belos' magic is real magic.

But I will say this: The fact that Hunter comes from a lineage of powerless witches, well, who's to say that isn't because of a...certain ancestor?

(*Cough* Hunter is related to Philip *Cough*)

Hunter vs Kiki: A pretty well-animated fight scene that adds potential drama to the story for the future. Now that Kikimora knows that Hunter helped Luz escape with the palismans (albeit unwillingly), she may or may not hold that over his head when the time comes. Or, at the very least, decides to keep a closer eye on him whenever he makes a slip-up.

Eda and King Getting Luz her own Palisman Wood: These last two weeks have been severely lacking in the Eda and King department, but scenes like this more than make up for it. Those two have formed such a bond with Luz to the point where they would do the impossible if it meant she would feel better. It proves just how much of a family they all are and the lengths they would go for each other. After all, weirdos have to stick together.

Little Rascal going to Hunter: Hunter is right. That was surprising.

Given how much Little Rascal stuck by Luz, I was more than positive that she would be the one he chose. So seeing Little Rascal pick Hunter instead is a much nicer twist. There could be multiple reasons why, and I'm just going to leave that to the analyzers in this fandom to decide. Especially since the answer isn't really all that important.

So, instead, I'm going to go ahead and sit in the corner as I wOrRy AbOuT tHe DaY tHaT bElOs FiNdS lItTlE rAsCal!

IT'S GONNA HAPPEN! AND I SWEAR TO ALL THAT IS HOLY, IF THE WRITERS KILL HIM, I WILL NOT BE HAPPY!

WHAT I DISLIKED

First, there's...um...

Well, there was this...

Ok, as much as I liked--No, that turned out well anyways...

…

...

...I've got nothing.

I, honest to goodness, have no complaints about "Hunting Palismans" Not even the tiniest of nitpicks I would usually ignore due to how well-executed everything else was.

It's all written fantastically to the point where it's...perfect.

IN CONCLUSION

"Hunting Palismans" is an easy A+. It introduces even more plot threads, gives insight into characters, and despite being essential to the story, it still manages to be a fun episode all on its own. And, I'd go so far as to say that it's one of the best, if not the best, episodes in the series. There's nothing bad about it, and that surprises me. I rarely find nothing bad to say about any story, even the ones I enjoy greatly. I'm sure there are some flaws that others would be more than happy to point out, but why bother hunting for the imperfections when I could accept that, for once, an episode is simply perfect.

(And that’s six hits in a row...THAT STINKER IS GOING TO HAPPEN! It hasn’t happened yet, BUT IT’S GOING TO HAPPEN! I CAN FEEL IT!)

[nothing-more-than-hot-leaf-juice]

Hi fren! Been following ur blog for a while and honestly I love it! I was wondering if I can get ur thoughts on something :)) remember in sozins comet when Iroh refused to fight ozai becuz “history will see it as more violence, a brother killing a brother to gain power” but then cue to Azula and Zuko who are fighting for the throne and it’s fine?? with them?? doesn’t that count as more violence as well? Thank if you ever come across this :D

Okay, first off, I think it needs to be clarified what Iroh actually said in that scene in regards to sending Zuko to defeat Azula because the two situations are very different and everyone involved knew that. The exchange went as such:

Zuko: Uncle, you’re the only person other than the Avatar who can possibly defeat the fatherlord.... we need you to come with us. 

Iroh: No Zuko, it won’t turn out well. 

Zuko: You can beat him. And we’ll be there to help. 

Iroh: Even if I did defeat Ozai, and I don’t know that I could, it would be the wrong way to end the war. History would see it as more senseless violence: a brother killing a brother to gain power. The only way for this war to end peacefully is if the Avatar defeats the Firelord. 

(dialogue, etc.) 

Iroh: Zuko, you must return to the Fire Nation, so that when the Firelord falls, you can assume the throne and restore peace and order. But Azula will be there waiting for you. 

When I see the argument that Iroh sending Zuko after Azula was hypocritical, I think it ignores the reality of the situation and the pragmatic approach. Because Iroh was absolutely correct throughout this whole exchange. Here were the facts as of this point: 

1. Iroh and Zuko were declared traitors and could not legally assume the throne once Ozai was defeated, meaning Azula would assume the throne by default.

2. By this point in the series, Azula had shown at every point that she was just as enthusiastic about waging war and had shown no remorse for the suffering of the Earth Kingdom at the hands of the Fire Nation. She was particularly enthusiastic about the two major affronts against the Earth Kingdom: conquering Ba Sing Se and using Sozin’s Comet to burn down the Earth Kingdom. 

3. Azula was the one who had the idea for the ‘let’s use the comet to burn down the Earth Kingdom’ plan in the first place and was proud of that plan. If Ozai was defeated, she would have used her position to go through with the plan anyway.

Realistically, this situation is in no way ideal, but the reality is that Azula did need to be stopped from assuming the throne. Make no mistake, if she had the opportunity to do so, she would have been at Ozai’s side burning down the Earth Kingdom instead of staying in the Fire Nation. She was dangerous and needed to be stopped and that was evident from her actions throughout the entire series. 

And the situations of Zuko defeating Azula and Iroh defeating Ozai are completely different, mainly because it was never Zuko or Iroh’s intention for Zuko to kill Azula like everyone else was planning with Ozai. The intent with Zuko going after Azula was to stop her from being crowned, which was a thing that needed to be stopped, otherwise, the war would have continued. And Iroh was absolutely correct in his assumptions: Zuko and Katara arrived in the Fire Nation just before Azula was crowned Firelord. And in the end, as we all know, they didn’t kill her, they just removed her as a threat so Zuko could assume the throne. There is a difference between taking out an actively harmful force in a position of absolute authority (Ozai) and stopping a harmful force from taking a position of absolute authority (Azula). 

There’s also the facts that 1. Iroh had his own history as a general who held siege on Ba Sing Se for 600 days, allegedly committed war crimes, and wasn’t exactly well regarded in the Earth Kingdom. 2. Like he said, a fight between Iroh and Ozai was not one that had a clear victor. Iroh was not the right person to defeat Ozai, Aang was, for many reasons. (There’s also the fact that Iroh’s arc came full circle as he freed the city he once laid siege on, but that has less to do with the pragmatic rationale behind the match ups and more to do with thematic purposes.)

And this is a thing that also bothers me. There’s an argument that Iroh failed Azula and that part of the reason she was how she was fell on him and I don’t think that’s fair. And this post by @withyoutilltheendofthecredits articulates why: 

the ideas “azula was a victim of abuse who was manipulated and hurt by ozai” and “azula had a hand in a lot of trauma for zuko due to her awful treatment of him” can and should coexist

I think it’s important to keep in mind whenever we talk about Iroh, Azula, and Zuko how their dynamic was in season 2. Firstly, Iroh’s priority through this show was to keep Zuko safe. In season 1, he wasn’t so much there to actively help Zuko find Aang (and on multiple occasions seemed to work against Zuko’s mission), but rather was there to stop Zuko from making stupid decisions that would get him killed while offering emotional support and training him to be a better firebender. Does he actually want Zuko to kidnap the Avatar and return to his awful, abusive father? No. But he does want Zuko to have something that gives him hope, something that keeps him going. And Iroh’s priority is to be there to make sure this kid doesn’t do anything too reckless. 

 In season 2, Zuko technically no longer has his mission as he’s deemed an enemy of the Fire Nation and Iroh more explicitly works to help his nephew mentally and emotionally extricate himself from the family members that hurt him. At the beginning of the season when Zuko is excited about going home after Azula lies to them, Iroh voices his suspicion because unlike Zuko, who’s still holding onto the idea that he can win his father’s love, Iroh is able to look at the situation objectively and knows that if Zuko goes home, he’s not going to be safe and he is not going to be met with any sort of love. 

Zuko: Did you listen to Azula? Father’s realized how important family is. He cares about me. 

Iroh: I care about you!

And through the rest of the season, Iroh tries his best to take advantage of their new freedom by showing Zuko that he does deserve control of his own life, happiness, and unconditional love. He’s trying his best to help him through this difficult time because part of Zuko’s emotional struggle in this is reconciling with the fact that no, his father doesn’t want him, at all. When he was banished, he had the ‘if I get the Avatar I can go home’ thing to cling onto, but Iroh and everyone else knew that Ozai never actually intended for Zuko to succeed or return. So Zuko has to deal with that in season 2 and doesn’t get to that point, he still tries to capture Aang and he still joins Azula in Crossroads of Destiny because he’s not ready to let that little bit of hope that he could return home go. It isn’t until he takes a stand against Ozai with the “it was cruel and it was wrong” speech that he really discovers who he is and what he wants and the main reason he’s able to come to that conclusion is because of Iroh’s treatment of him in season 2. 

In season 2, Iroh not only protects Zuko from physical harm and takes care of him in regards to sickness, food, and water, but tries to drill into his head that he didn’t deserve the treatment from his father and shouldn’t throw his life away trying to please him. That he can have and deserves a peaceful life. And Zuko keeps going down the self destructive path because he’s been convinced for so long that him proving himself to his father is more important than his personal safety or happiness. Iroh just wants him to put himself before the man that abused him. He hates it that Zuko almost gets himself killed multiple times for the sake of Ozai. There’s their talk in The Avatar Day and their fight in Lake Laogai that bring this to the forefront: 

Iroh: Even if you did capture the Avatar, I’m not so sure it would solve all our problems. 

Zuko: Then there is no hope at all 

Iroh: No Zuko, you must never give into despair. 

Iroh: And then what?! You never think these things through. This is exactly what happened when you tried to capture the Avatar at the North Pole. You had him and then you had nowhere to go. 

Zuko: I would have figured something out. 

Iroh: No! If his friends hadn’t found you, you would have frozen to death! 

Zuko: I know my own destiny. 

Iroh: Is it your own destiny? Or is it a destiny someone else has tried to force on you? 

And as Iroh acts as Zuko’s protector and tries to break him away from his self destructive mentality, how does Azula fit into that? Here are the interactions between Azula, Zuko, and Iroh in season 2: 

Azula trying to take Zuko and Iroh as prisoners to the Fire Nation with no remorse 

Azula attempting to shoot lightning at Zuko in the first episode of season 2 and Zuko only being saved by Iroh redirecting it at the last second 

Azula shooting Iroh and seriously injuring him (it could have been lighting, but I think it was just fire) 

Azula trying to capture Iroh and Zuko in Ba Sing Se and succeeding 

Azula manipulating Zuko into going back to Ozai 

Objectively, Azula is a threat against Zuko’s safety and there’s a good chance she would have killed him in the first episode of season 2 if Iroh hadn’t stopped her. He knows exactly how dangerous she is and made the decision that he was going to do what it took to keep Zuko safe, which he did. With this exchange in Bitter Work. 

This isn’t Iroh saying ‘I have no sympathy for my niece whatsoever and am choosing to ignore her’. This is Iroh saying ‘Azula has proven herself to be an objective and real threat and I need to keep Zuko safe from her.’ And he was correct. I feel like this stance is reasonable when the last two times she saw them she tried to shoot Zuko with lightning and actually shot Iroh. 

And the reality of the situation is that Iroh shouldn’t have had to be the one to raise Zuko or Azula. He wasn’t their parent and he shouldn’t have had to be responsible for them. Ideally, Ozai should have been the one to do that, but that wasn’t the reality of the situation. And Iroh was faced with a choice: go with Zuko who was banished, injured, and lost, or stay with Azula who was not in a good home with a good influence, but who was still the favored, prodigy princess. He had a choice of which kid to stand behind and I think it’s fair to say that Zuko needed Iroh more when he was banished. 

Ideally, there shouldn’t have been a choice for Iroh. Ideally, Iroh shouldn’t have had to raise his nephew. Ideally, Azula should have had a better parental influence who didn’t encourage her violent streak. But it was by no means an ideal situation. Azula was dangerous and remorseless and Iroh was entirely correct when he saw her rising to power and realized ‘if she isn’t stopped now, there is no telling what she’s going to do’. Because he knows exactly who raised her.

[tundrainafrica]

that moment when you realize levi's last memory of hanji was her laughing - her last laugh. oh and levi would never have a body to bury. Also, I was wondering if you have done an analysis of the solute that levi did - you know keeping his hand over her heart. I personally headcannon that levi meant hanji to give her heart to him, to be his and that's why he kept his fist over her heart. (sorry if it sounds cheesy lmao)

OKAY SO WE’RE ON THE TOPIC OF CH. 132 AGAIN. So imma assume you guys really wanna hurt yourselves more so allow me to drop this really amazing animation of 132 which really captures Hange and Levi’s facial expressions well along with a lot of symbolisms about Hange so please, even if you’re not gonna read the whole meta I have down under. Please watch it. You won’t regret it. It’s beautiful. Here’s the link (The lyrics are good too, so I’d recommend you check the English translation out, the second verse all the way to the chorus, it really fits.)

that moment when you realize levi's last memory of hanji was her laughing - her last laugh. oh and levi would never have a body to bury. 

How are you so sure that Hange’s last memory was her smiling and laughing?

I actually like to entertain the possibility that Hange and Levi made an extremely conscious effort to avoid looking at each other, especially in the eyes. Why is that?

Maybe, the scene in 126 was that much of a profound scene relationship wise that they couldn’t look at each other after that? But I can’t help but think the Levi and Hange’s dynamics were particularly distant in 132? Especially if you compare it to just a few chapters ago where Hange couldn’t even leave him right? Like she was always next to him on his sleeping bag. 

That’s why I really hc-ed that maybe when she was changing his bandages, particularly removing the ones covering his mouth, they had a conversation. And I wrote out my take on it in this fic.

There are just way too many panels about them talking about so many deep things and in all of them they’re looking away from each other.

You can say, towards the last panels, of course he’s not looking at her, he knows she’s going to sacrifice herself, why put her to the pain?

And even the dedicate your heart scene right? He wasn’t looking at her. 

So the point is, do you really think his last memory of her was her smile? 

And was it really her laugh? Personally, when I see people smile, I don’t look at their mouths, I look at their eyes. I’m an eyes person. I think eyes talk more than someone’s mouth. 

And Hange wasn’t smiling at all, look at those eyes.

And do we really count a ‘haha’ as a laugh :’). Do you think Levi... who has seen Hange laugh so many times before, and had seen that same wonder in her eyes before and how she constantly smiles with both her eyes and her mouth, do you think Levi would have counted that as a laugh?

Anyway, I like to headcanon the last clear vivid memory Levi had of her was when she was changing his bandages back in the ship. They were avoiding each othe rtoo much, Levi was really avoiding looking at her this whole chapter and I really suspect there was a deleted scene, a conversation in the ship which changed their whole dynamic in that chapter before Hange chose to sacrifice herself. 

Anyway, moving on to the next question:  

Also, I was wondering if you have done an analysis of the salute that levi did - you know keeping his hand over her heart. I personally headcannon that levi meant hanji to give her heart to him, to be his and that's why he kept his fist over her heart. (sorry if it sounds cheesy lmao)

Omg, that is such a cute headcanon I didn’t think about. Thank you for sharing that <3 I’ll add that to my own personal list of headcanons that I’ll be sharing below. 

Before I move on to sharing it, I just have to say: 

I love the original Japanese translation.

For most western languages, you have to mention the “your” in Dedicate your heart because it just doesn’t flow well to say “dedicate heart” nor would it be consistent with Erwin’s iconic statement being constantly translated to “Dedicate your heart” suddenly being translated to “Dedicate heart” which is wrong grammar anyway. 

With 心臓を捧げよう, we only know there is an unspecified number of hearts which are to be dedicated. 

So Levi’s message could be translated to either “Dedicate your heart.” or even “Let’s dedicate our hearts”

So as a Levihan shipper I could headcanon this in so many ways. 

1. I’ll drop the vanilla one first.  “Dedicate your heart” okay Hange while sacrificing yourself, make sure to dedicate your heart okay, fight to your heart’s content, which is the most conventional interpretation. 

2. The next one is: Let’s dedicate our hearts. This could mean that he feels the war is reaching it’s climax and if she’s ready to die, Levi is willing to join her soon and he will dedicate his heart the same way. Since Japanese tenses in relation to time aren’t specified and future tense doesn’t exist in Japanese, it makes it vague enough to even foreshadow Levi’s own intentions to really dedicate his heart like his own comrades did. And the fact that Levi said see you later Hange? That only supports this headcanon. 

3. Another head canon I have is Levi figuratively left his heart with her with that salute and in that moment, maybe he was talking to himself when he decided to dedicate his heart to her. With that dedication and with Hange’s impending sacrifice, Levi showed his readiness to lose his heart and have it die with her. 

4. This is actually an analysis I read a while back from a Japanese website I’ll leave the link below and it’s definitely one of my favorites for this scene. 

So to summarize the analysis, the Japanese fans see it as a symbolism of unity for Hange and Levi. 

Remember Hange was betrayed by the Jaegerists a few chapters back probably less than a few days ago manga time. Hange is one of the few people who have this idea that what Eren is doing is wrong, the violence, the rumbling. And with Zeke, Flock and Yelena all explicitly disagreeing with her, she was living with this idea that she was doing things wrong especially since only recently a majority of the survey corps actually betrayed her. Yet Hange still continued to hold on to her idea that their ideas are all wrong, there must be a more peaceful way to end all this. Also, remember even do Hange had such an idealistic way on how she wanted it to end, no one explicitly agreed with her. 

Thus, she was lonely. And with that ‘dedicate your heart’ scene, Levi recognizes that loneliness and by saying “let’s dedicate our hearts” he’s telling her he is dedicating his heart to that same cause she is fighting for. And even if no one agrees with it, he agrees with her cause. 

He’s empathizing with it, he’s affirming it and he’s telling her what she’s fighting for isn’t wrong and he wants to clear her of any doubts in her final moments so she can fight till her hearts content. 

And I think that’s beautiful. I got the analysis  here.  

The “dedicate your heart” could mean one of all the things above but it can also mean all the things above at once. I like to hurt myself by thinking, Hange and Levi talk more with gestures than words and maybe Levi meant to say everything up there. 

And maybe with this face Hange gave we can see... 

She might have gotten all five messages before she sacrificed herself. 

Anyway, thanks for reading!

[yellowocaballero]

Human Relations Snippet: Jon and Sasha versus Bad Telenovelas

This is a birthday request from @hihereami who wanted something very Latin American and an excuse to show me her favorite shows. This takes place in early Season 3, before Jude Perry but with Sasha working at the office. Jon fudged some stuff. It features incredibly stupid office dynamics, bad relationships, and a shared history that produced two very different people. Happy birthday, Ami!

CW as usual for Human Relations: explicitly discussed transphobia, references to 19th century racism, and a depiction of a platonic abusive relationship. 

Sasha now understood that she was talking to an expert. 

“Fine,” she said grudgingly, gathering the papers back up. She left out her great outline and timetable, though, because Martin should definitely appreciate it. “But the number one rule here is to keep up an active support system, right? Which means Jon needs more than just you.” Martin gave her a hilariously prissy look, which she responded with an equally prissy one. “He thinks we have a psychic bond or something.” They did but Sasha didn’t want to admit that. “Look, I’ve been harassing Jon for months about how shitty Jonah is. But if he’s going to listen to me, he needs to know that...I guess that I care about him more than I hate Jonah. That I’m not doing it out of spite or with some ulterior motive to get something out of him.”

Martin closed the manila folder, carefully attaching a label on it and writing down their coded filing system on the tab. “You don’t care about him more than you hate Jonah. You are doing this with ulterior motives. But it would be pretty hypocritical of me to care about that, so...he likes television? And he likes hearing about your life and the things important to you. He’s like this historical, cultural, political, anthropological sponge. I mean, he knows everything about everything, but it’s his passion. So if you want to combine the two…”

And, of course, once Martin said that then the answer was obvious.

Sasha liked to be the smartest person in the room.

The problem with people like Sasha was that, very frequently, they were the smartest person in the room. For seventeen years of her life Sasha had been remarkably and thoroughly assured that she would go places, she was really going to make all of us proud, she’s going to take care of us in our old age, Mrs. Pérez’s son just wastes every day with his girlfriend but here you are, studying all day with your complete lack of friends! 

Once she skipped town - well, town, country, Americas, oceans - all of that had been replaced with shiny grades and the bragging rights of Oxford and the implicit looming pressure of her scholarship. Sasha had always been the smartest person in the room. She couldn’t afford anything else - not if she wanted someone to care, not if she wanted to get anywhere in life. 

Every adult was somewhat of a child inside: happily ignoring a toy until it was taken away, at which point they would scream and scream. And when Sasha didn’t feel like the smartest person in the room - or, worse, others didn’t see her as the smartest person in the room - there was nothing tolerable about it. 

Upon retrospect, workplace and academic discrimination, in addition to some healthy insecurity, bothered her so much that she sold her soul to the devil about it, but apparently this was an semi-common occurrence. Abuela had been right. Teach Sasha to doubt her again. 

Mrs. Pérez’s son probably hadn’t accidentally sold his soul to the devil. He and his girlfriend were probably happy with their hard working but low-paying jobs, their cute little smattering of babies, and their mass every week. They’d have long, happy lives, and the amount of life-or-death situations they were put in were probably no more than usual. 

Well. Sasha would literally rather die than do that, and that resolve had been tested very thoroughly. She stood by it. Sasha had never regretted a decision she made in her life, besides the ones that sold her soul to the devil, and also maybe some things about Tim. But most of her decisions were good. And even if they weren’t good, she stubbornly stood by them.  

That’s why this was difficult. For all of Sasha’s insecurity reasons that, to be fair, had mostly drifted into the background of her life while she had been on the run for murder. And because it was Martin. 

“Sasha, I’m not sure what help I can give you.”

Godfuckingdammit.

“Please?” Sasha slid into the seat across from Martin, giving him her best big cow eyes. “Don’t hog the emotional manipulation. You’re the expert in making Jon do what you want, just...work your magic!”

Martin looked up from the statement he was organizing shot Sasha an extremely flat look. Martin was extremely good at looking extremely unimpressed. “Because I’m the one who can magically make people do what I want.” 

Sasha winced. “At least you didn’t sell your soul to a demon about it?”

“I know you tell yourself a lot of people do that to make yourself feel better about doing it, but literally nobody does that.” At Sasha’s double wince, Martin sighed. “Don’t listen to Jonah. You didn’t do anything a normal, non-satanic person wouldn’t do. If I could…” Martin trailed off slightly, staring a little in the distance, before shaking back to himself. “I’m not helping you manipulate Jon. That’s my place in this ecosystem.”

“Then we should team up,” Sasha wheedled. She reached into her briefcase - which nowadays contained little more than alcohol and Statements, she wasn’t sure that Georgie had been a good influence on her - and yanked out the print-outs before slapping it on the table. “See, I did research!”

Martin slid the papers closer to him, leafing through them quickly. Sasha waited for him to look very impressed and appreciative of how socially competent yet intellectual she was, but he didn’t look very impressed at all. “ “Help someone in an Abusive or Controlling relationship”, ‘3 ways to support someone stuck in a controlling relationship’, ‘How can I help someone in a toxic relationship’...”

“You aren’t going to deny it, are you?” Sasha asked heatedly. “Because Tim just does not get what I mean no matter how many leaflets I show him because he ‘framed me for murder’ or whatever -”

“Do not pretend as if you’re forgiven him for the murder thing.”

“I fucking hate his guts over it. I will never, ever forgive either of them.” Sasha’s heart spiked in her chest, and she forced herself to take a few calming breaths. “This is a problem. Jon and Jonah are a problem. I don’t think we’re in a position to take on Jonah right now - even if I am working on it. But Jon is a weak link here. We know he’s impossible to kill -” At Martin’s extremely alarmed look, Sasha quickly elaborated, “ - and I wouldn’t want to, although he would really technically deserve it with all of his human rights violations. It would be far easier, and a better use of our resources, if we got Jon to our side. Then hopefully those two could...blow each other up, or something.”

Martin stared at her, expression implacable. Sasha became abruptly aware that she had just threatened to blow up this guy’s semi-boyfriend, and resisted the urge to apologize. She wasn’t apologetic. This was what she had to do, and Sasha always did what had to be done. It didn’t matter if she hated Jon so much that she wanted him dead, when he would be more useful to her alive. It doesn’t matter if she knew that, deep down, Jon was an exceptionally kind and caring person who loved very deeply, and that who he was now was a product of a great deal of influences mostly out of his control. If he was who Sasha was going to turn into, given enough time. 

She would stick to the plan. Sasha was going to get herself and her Assistants - including Melanie now, for some reason, who still refused to believe them about the psychic vampire thing despite how many times Jon confessed to it - out of this. 

Finally, Martin said, “I’m not going to deny it, Sasha. I’ve printed out all those guides, I’ve read all of the books, I’ve done everything. I’ve been working on this since - I think since I decided that I loved Jon more than I hated him. I’ve got Jon’s trust. And, way more importantly, Jonah is convinced that I’m harmless. He doesn’t pay any attention to me. I think he, like, secretly hates it whenever Jon has someone - whatever. But he is obsessed with everything you do.” At Sasha’s disturbed look, Martin shrugged. “He micromanages. Jon complains about it. I don’t think Jon gets that he really spills the cards on all of Jonah’s plans when he gets drunk and bitches about him.”

Sasha now understood that she was talking to an expert. 

“Fine,” she said grudgingly, gathering the papers back up. She left out her great outline and timetable, though, because Martin should definitely appreciate it. “But the number one rule here is to keep up an active support system, right? Which means he needs more than just you.” Martin gave her a hilariously prissy look, which she responded with an equally prissy one. “He thinks we have a psychic bond or something.” They did but Sasha didn’t want to admit that. “Look, I’ve been harassing him for months about how shitty Jonah is. But if he’s going to listen to me, he needs to know that...I guess that I care about him more than I hate Jonah. That I’m not doing it out of spite or with some ulterior motive to get something out of him.”

Martin closed the manila folder, carefully attaching a label on it and writing down their coded filing system on the tab. “You don’t care about him more than you hate Jonah. You are doing this with ulterior motives. But it would be pretty hypocritical of me to care about that, so...he likes television? And he likes hearing about your life and the things important to you. He’s like this historical, cultural, political, anthropological sponge. I mean, he knows everything about everything, but it’s his passion. So if you want to combine the two…”

And, of course, once Martin said that then the answer was obvious.

*******

Sasha was now willing to admit that Martin was smarter than she was.

It was always kind of a crapshoot when looking for Jon. He was only around the Institute half the time, probably less, and he refused to buy a cell phone so anybody could stay in contact with him. Tim had also flatly refused, because Jon would inevitably go to him for help with figuring it out, and apparently that could take hours. Sasha had volunteered to help Jon with accessing some online archives, and apparently she had explained it so confusingly that Jon was left refusing to touch a computer for a month. 

The farthest they could go was convincing him to take a Jitterbug for emergencies. Tim had taken great pains to explain the LifeAlert function, to Jon’s increasing lack of amusement. When Sasha had explained the adventure to Georgie, a known social media sensation over wine at their weekly girls night, she had found it hilarious and was very impressed. 

“Jon must be really attached to you guys,” Georgie had said, carefully nibbling at her luxury chocolate. Girl’s nights with Georgie were decadent. “I mean, not that he doesn’t talk about all of you nonstop, but he can spend ten years incorporating the Beholding into every piece of technology in the country while willfully refusing to learn how to work a computer.”

Sasha hadn’t missed Georgie’s word choice - deliberately refusing instead of an incapability to learn - but something else in the sentence was stranger to her. “I thought he was all about all kinds of knowledge.”

“I hear that the future can be terrifying for a lot of people,” Georgie had said wisely. “No matter how much of it they experience.”

“Is it terrifying for you?”

“Goodness, no.” Georgie had flashed her a bright grin - not so much a showing of teeth as it was a peek at a bone-white skeleton. “I always know what the future holds.”

 As it stood, Sasha got lucky today. She wasn’t forced to make Jon use his dreaded phone, and as a result she wasn’t forced to understand what the fuck Jon did all day. He was in the Magnus Institute, and when Jon was in the Institute there were three places he could be. 

The Archives, which Sasha had just come from. The Institute Library, occasionally terrifying the graduate students and more frequently helping them write their papers. Sasha had heard that they had communally begun sacrificing one grad student to his hunger per week in exchange for study sessions. Which...she should discourage...whatever, it was probably ethical. Or, at the very least, voluntary. 

The only other location Jon visited was Magnus’ office, where he could spend hours relaxing on the evil little bastard’s couch and annoying him. That was a last resort scenario, and was usually saved for complete and total emergencies.

Thankfully, today, Sasha found Jon in the ‘D’s. He was lying on his back, legs propped up on the bookshelf across from him, reading what looked like a very fascinating philosophy text regarding humanity’s search for aliens that Sasha silently resolved to borrow from him later. He didn’t look up when Sasha approached, so she carefully tipped a book off the shelf above him to fall on his head.

He yelped, dropping his book and sitting upright. He rubbed at his head, scowling, and Sasha saw that he had restyled his hair since the last time she had seen him. It had been growing long, but instead of cutting it and returning to his short twists styled into a loose curtain over his forehead he had pulled it back into a puffy bun. It was...somewhat more fashion forward than Sasha had ever seen from him. He had swapped his greatcoat for a primmer and shorter pea coat. Even his glasses were now thin-rimmed, circular, and kind of stylish. 

“Oh my god,” Sasha said, “has Martin started dressing you?”

“Martin can barely even dress himself,” Jon said automatically. “It was Georgie. She said I have to ‘clean up nice’ if I ever ‘want a man’. What does any of that mean?”

“Isn’t it kind of weird that your wife is setting you up with someone?”

“The concept of monogamy becomes ridiculous after the first eighty years,” Jon said, also automatically. Then Sasha’s words sunk into his brain, and he flushed. “Georgie and I aren’t together right now! And she’s not setting me up with - how can you even consider - what makes you think I’m a homosexual -”

Sasha stared at him flatly. Jon gave up. 

“Just let me know if I need to explain gay shit to you,” Sasha said. “It’ll cost a hundred pounds for me to explain queerness and three hundred if you want to learn about trans issues. Recompense for my emotional labor.”

“Young people think they invented these things. It’s ridiculous.” Jon stored the book back on the bookshelf behind him without looking, before carefully dropping his feet and rolling up. Sasha’s back ached in sympathy. Some people got all of the demon deal luck. “What does Martin say? ‘People are gay, Steven’? Historical figures are gay and trans, Sasha.”

“...are you a historical figure that’s -”

“I apologize for being a cisgender man that’s ruined your life, yes.” Jon arched an eyebrow at her as Sasha spent a second in confused agony over whether or not she was getting through to this guy. “I assume there’s no emergency, considering this conversation, so why are you here?”

There was no way to make this offer sound genuine. Jon would look for the catch - because there was one - or what she was trying to pull. There was something she was trying to pull, but she wasn’t about to admit it. 

In the end, Sasha settled for a fragment of honesty in her heart. Jon always had a way of drawing that out of people. 

“I haven’t watched my telenovelas in years. And I don’t know anybody else who speaks Spanish, and so much of it doesn’t translate that I refuse to watch it subbed with someone else, and they’re something I used to watch every night but now I haven’t seen them in years. And you speak Spanish. So.”

Jon stared at her, blinking owlishly, before his mouth twitched into a small smile. It flowered, moving from a hesitant movement of the lips into a real, close-lipped smile that sent his usually severe and sharp expression into something resembling excitement. Understated enthusiasm over novelty. 

How weird, Sasha thought. That you could be 200 years old and still find excitement over something novel. Over something new. Or, maybe, over someone choosing to trust you with a part of their lives. 

Or maybe it wasn’t that weird. How could someone keep living for that long if something as simple as this didn’t bring you joy? Sasha was only thirty four and she already felt so tired of life, all the time. Either tired or overwhelmed. She wondered if Jon still felt overwhelmed. 

“Sounds like fun,” Jon said. “Can I bring my notebook?”

“...yeah, sure.” Sasha paused, almost uncertain. “Hey. When you get to, like, two hundred -”

“Technically two hundred and twenty.”

“When you get to two hundred and twenty, do you finally feel like an adult?”

Jon stared at her, faintly surprised, before his expression settled into something a little wry. “Anybody who says that they ever feel like an adult is a liar. That’s how you know that Jonah’s full of shit.”

Somehow, it was almost a little reassuring.

First time she had ever said that about Jon. 

********

Their adventures, of course, were quickly throttled by practicalities. 

Sasha suggested just watching it on a laptop, but Jon’s expression had wrinkled in distaste. Jon suggested just watching it at her place, but Sasha liked to pretend that he didn’t know where she lived. Far too much intimacy, and somewhat hilariously Jon seemed very awkward about being alone with a woman in her flat. Also they were still working, technically. 

Martin, overhearing their argument in the Archives as Sasha collected her laptop, suggested Jon’s place, since it was pretty nice and cozy and close to the Archives. This forbidden knowledge, the shining proof that sometimes a little knowledge could be a terrible and traumatizing thing, the sheer mental image that imprinted itself behind her eyelids, shook Sasha to her core.

“For christ’s sake,” Martin said, “we are not fucking.”

“Sounds like someone who’s fucking our boss would say!” Tim called, from his position asleep on the break room couch. Sasha had spent roughly five hours yesterday convincing him that her plan to manipulate Jon’s psychological weaknesses was the most effective defense against evil fear powers that they had, and since he had lost the argument he was now resentfully napping on the couch. “If I walk in on you doing it in the office over a desk I’m going to fucking kill both of you and then myself!”

“Does this place have an HR?” Melanie asked, from where she was sitting at her desk actually trying to work. “Can I report all of you to HR? Please?”

“Jon can hardly fire himself,” Sasha told her sympathetically. “This shit will all make sense if you accept the fact that -”

“God, I get it, enough with the workplace hazing!” Melanie threw up her hands, as Jon unsubtly whispered something in Martin’s ear that made him blush. “You can all drop it now, it was never funny!”

“If Sasha just let me prove it to you,” Jon said, exasperated, “then you can see -”

Simultaneously, all three of them snapped, “Do not!”, cowing Jon immensely. 

Tim was no help in problem-solving, since he was resentful that Sasha was doing this at all. He had been spending almost all of his time lately throwing himself into research into the rituals, into anything that explained the strange and obscure rigor of this universe. Jon only explained as much to them as Jonah let him, and the most he ever did was mysteriously drop off boxes that held a lot of information about clowns and sawdust.

He always seemed a little surly as he did it. Sometimes he looked very guilty. Sasha noticed, every time. She couldn’t afford not to. 

All Sasha could try to do for Tim was help him. Their relationship had already been fractured by the way they kept secrets from each other, and although they both wanted to repair it they were forced to confront the fact that now they had to tell each other things. Accept help. Sasha hated acknowledging that she couldn’t do everything by herself, and Tim hated putting Sasha in the danger he relentlessly and suicidally threw himself into, but neither of them would let the other continue on their self-destructive path. 

It wasn’t sweet. But it was the most solid and tangible proof Sasha had that they loved each other. Maybe it was the most solid proof anybody could have: that, in life or death, they’d choose wherever you were. 

If Sasha followed Tim into whatever dangerous shit he was getting himself into, then he would be more careful. Tim wouldn’t survive it if he lost her, and she knew it. 

Between her and Tim, and Jon and Martin...why did all of their relationships feel like mutually assured destruction?

Eventually, Jon’s solution was, as usual, the worst one. Jon’s solution to every problem always worked, but it was always the one thing that nobody wanted to do and that everyone hated. But anything else was either vetoed or improbable, and Sasha refused to back out once she committed to something, so that was how Sasha stuffed a laptop and an HDMI cable into her bag to trail behind Jon as they rode the elevator up to the third floor. 

The number three rule of the Archives was not relevant right now (let Sasha have two cups of coffee before bothering her about how terrible their lives were). But the number two rule of the Archives was this: don’t fuck with Rosie. They both gave her their brightest grins as they passed, impeccably polite without actually asking if Jonah was inside. Rosie smiled munificently at them and complemented Sasha on her heels. They were in. They were now breaking the number one rules of the Archives. 

The number one rule of the Archives was, of course, this: never talk to Jonah Magnus unnecessarily. 

On the bright side, from this perspective Sasha could see how Jon worked his magic - that is, how he always entered Jonah’s office through kicking the door open and infuriating the other man tremendously. He actually took the time to open the door a crack first, completely silently and almost imperceptibly, before crashing it open in as annoying a way as physically possible. 

“I need your fucking office!” Jon called. 

When Sasha poked her head in behind him, she was treated to the sight of a terrified employee cowering in the hard plastic chair in front of Jonah’s desk. Sasha was well aware how that chair could feel like an electric chair. Across from him, Jonah looked distinctly unamused, already kneading his brow. 

“I’m in a meeting, Jon.”

“Good for you.” Jon pointed at the door, and the employee silently scurried out. “Not anymore. Now fuck off, I need your office.”

Impossibly, Jonah looked even more unamused. “Fucking your Archivist on my desk in the middle of the day is a bit beyond the pale even for you, Jon.”

Sasha was immediately so fucking disgusted that she switched into Spanish and called him a great deal of incredibly rude things for an incredibly long period of time. 

Talking over her, Jon said, “Take out your resentment over 1899 on someone else. We want your television, we’re watching Sasha’s programmes.”

“Right. Like how you and that boy Martin are always watching programmes -”

“Me cago en tu puta madre--”

“Honestly, Jonah, just because you had all of those men over for revision of your manuscripts doesn’t mean everyone’s as euphemistic as you are. And Sasha, that’s remarkably vulgar.”

For the first time, Jonah looked alarmed. “What is she saying?”

“Sólo porque tienes un rabo chiquito -”

“Go learn Spanish.”

“Ms. James, this is a professional office, and -”

“Melanie’s fucking right, we need a fucking HR.” Now this was a matter of pride. Sasha flounced into the office, collapsing onto one of the dumb uncomfortable leather couches facing one of those screens that rich people had in their offices to show their powerpoint slides or whatever. “I’m going to Stare you to death if you don’t leave us alone to watch telly.”

Hilariously, Jonah looked at Jon, alarmed. “Can she do that?”

Jon opened his mouth, before Sasha shot him a look. “She’s progressing amazingly rapidly. At this point, not even I know what she’s capable of.”

What a wingman. Jonah looked faintly uncomfortable, but he went back to his computer anyway instead of doing the rational thing and getting out. “This grant is due in three days, Jon, and I have no time for your little fancies. Do what you will, but leave me out of it.”

Sasha was not thrilled at the prospect of Jonah fucking Magnus hanging out in the background while Sasha and Jon watched telenovelas. She’d be outnumbered by the evil fear demons, for one. But Sasha had a sneaking suspicion, and maybe if she couldn’t genuinely stop this guy’s evil plans she could annoy him to death.

At the very least, it would make her feel better. Sasha was beginning to recognize the value of anything that just made you fucking feel better. Maybe Tim was onto something with constantly being a giant bitch all the time. 

“Ignore that cunt,” Sasha said in Spanish, catching Jon’s attention as she stood up to plug in the HDMI cable and turn on the television. “I got crisps and chocolate in my bag, I’m putting on Marimar.”

“Is she insulting me again?” Jonah asked. “Jon, what’s she saying?”

“I’m afraid I only consume trauma,” Jon said, also switching to Spanish. His accent was fucking bizarre. He sounded like her great uncle, or an even worse version of Sucedió en La Habana. At her boggled look, he elaborated, “The Witness gifted me with understanding of all languages very early in my development, but it bestowed verbal fluency in...1910? Perhaps? I’m afraid that without a little practice and frequent use I’m a little bit stuck there. I was able to beat my Chinese and Russian into sounding modern, but I’m afraid that people now tell me my Chinese is somewhat 1960s and my Russian is fairly 1980s.” He scowled. “Why does modernity change so much?”

“I think telenovelas can fix this for you,” Sasha decided. She paused a beat as Jon sat down beside her, a careful distance away. “The Witness? Is that a weird translation thing? You called it the Beholding last time.”

Jon shifted, a little guiltily. In English, he said, “The term Beholding’s better...it’s more academic, and more people use it…”

“What are you two -”

“Is ‘The Witness’ your word?” Sasha asked, and to her horror she found her tone almost gentle. It was almost easier, in her own words.

This time Jon truly looked uncomfortable, and he shifted back into Spanish - perhaps, Sasha thought, because Jonah could not understand it. “Smirke contributed all of the nomenclature for this, and he never...well, none of Jonah’s little circle liked me very much.”

“Wow, wonder why.”

“Exoticism only gets you so far, I suppose,” Jon joked weakly, before sharply swerving the subject. “I always felt as if it gave me its own name. When I began to understand, really understand what it was and how we could feed each other...I felt as if it told me. And that’s what it told me. So it’s always been my name.”

Hm. Sasha wondered what it was like, to have your religion be - so tangible, so grounded. Sasha believed, and she had faith with all of her heart, but - well, you wouldn’t need faith if you had incontestable proof. Faith was about believing because you knew something in your heart. But Jon...when he had nothing else, maybe, he had this.

“I just put down ‘James’ because I thought it would make that small-dicked asshole more likely to hire me,” Sasha finally offered, her only equivalent for something like this. “Tell you what. Call me James Martinez, and I’ll curse the name of the Witness, okay? If you’d like me to.”

Jon brightened, and for a second Sasha saw her own faith in his brilliant green eyes. “My gift is shared with you, Sasha. Of course you can.”

It was not a gift. It was a terrible and disgusting curse, and it was one that Jon had inflicted upon her. But Sasha was playing nice...and this was knowledge, understanding Jon was knowledge that could save her life one day...and there was something strange about Jon’s hesitant and multi-barbed trust. 

It had to be the trust of somebody who had it betrayed a hundred, thousand times. But he gave it so easily, and he reached out incessantly. Sasha knew lots of people who cared too much, although she had never been one of them - Tim and Martin, for one - but she could already see how it was making them a little bitter and jaded. 

Jon wasn’t. Sasha didn’t know why. 

So Sasha kicked off her heels, tucking her legs underneath her as she pulled up her favorite episode of Marimar on her laptop. It was a comfort show, having context wouldn’t help, she had rights. 

“Okay,” Sasha began, a little aggressively, “we’re starting a lot of the way in, so I have to catch you up. Like a lot of telenovela protagonists, Marimar is a wholesome young girl who lives in a little sad hut shack on the beach and she can’t read. She’s raised by her grandparents and her dog talks. This is the essential premise of the show.”

“Wow,” Jon whispered, “just like me.”

“I - okay, you are not obligated to give me your backstory, but what?”

“Martin keeps calling me a ‘sad little Victorian orphan’,” Jon said defensively. “And dogs talk to me too!”

“...what do they say?”

“If you’d believe it, nothing interesting.” He paused a beat. “But Georgie’s cat is kind of a psychopath, if that helps.”

“That’s a stereotype against cats,” Sasha accused. “Just because humans don’t understand cat body language -”

“Oh, no, cats are lovely, my favorite animal. But the Admiral’s kind of a freak.”

“If you two are going to sit here and trash talk me in my own office,” Jonah said, aggravated, “then please at least take it outside.”

Actually, this was a great idea.

Sasha ran through the plot of Marimar, down to the love interest with the terrible chest hair (Jon and Sasha then got into an argument over chest hair that was so heated that Sasha suspected Martin had chest hair), the evil step-mother (they both agreed that women in soaps tended to fall within the madonna/whore complex), and the weird amounts of humiliation. Sasha loved to hate Mr. Douchey McChesthair in this one - he wooed Marimar and promised to raise her up from poverty, but he ended up ditching her when she wasn’t refined enough for him. She wins him back at the end with her nice dresses and inherited money, and they settle down with a baby and a big house. Sasha always hated the ending. Marimar should have become a career woman. 

“It’s massively cheesy,” Sasha warned, finally playing the episode and letting the cheery theme song play, “so don’t sit here and point out the logical inconsistencies. We know. It’s part of the experience.”

But Jon just arched an eyebrow, unbuttoning his own pea cot to throw over the back of the sofa and lounge in his seat. “Watching telenovelas, in the office of the Director of the facility where you work, with his boss, in London, is the experience? And we’re all - how do you put it - evil fear demons?”

“You haven’t met my auntie,” Sasha said darkly. But she ended up shaking her head too, picking at her stockings a little. “The experience is...eleven pm, and the whole house is dark. The kitchen light is on, this flickering yellow thing that pops and buzzes. There’s cicadas outside, and somewhere you can hear someone playing music too loudly. Dad’s in his ripped up armchair, snoring. Mom’s on the couch, reading a magazine. They’re only half-paying attention, but it’s late, and you feel like you never get enough time with them. So you sit on the couch next to Mom, and because neither of them say anything you watch the show with all of your attention, just happy to be near them...it’s family bonding, you think. It feels like it.”

Jon was silent, staring at her. Not fixedly, or intensely - just looking, as if he was waiting patiently to see if she would say anything else. But Sasha trailed off, picking at her stockings, until she forced herself to stop. She didn’t want to say anything else. She was worried that he would know what she wasn’t saying. He always did.

“My grandmother couldn’t read,” Jon said finally, and Sasha fought the surprise. Jon never talked about this, not in any specific words. “But she would darn clothing by the fire at night. She did it for the neighborhood and earned some extra money.”

“What about you?” Sasha asked, hoping it was a safe topic. “What did you do?”

Jon grinned at her, sharp and amused. “I got into trouble.”

They both turned their attention back to the television, and Sasha silently mouthed the words along with the screen as Jon paid rapt attention. 

It was later in the show, when Marimar was showing up all of the people who did her dirty when she was poor. She had a fine dress, lingering on the arm of her rich and kind of creepy father, and she walked around with her head held up high. Her old husband who treated her terribly saw her at the opera and he was stunned by how hot and cool she was now. 

“Good for her!” Jon said abruptly. “Go find someone better, Marimar!”

“Oh my god,” Sasha groaned. “She ends up with him!”

“What!”

Quicker than Sasha would ever have expected, Jon got wrapped up in the episode. He gasped with her at the right parts, cheered at the screen whenever Marimar said something particularly sassy, and they booed whenever Douchey McChesthair showed up. 

When Sasha glanced behind her - not that she did - she saw Jonah fixedly ignoring them. He was gritting his teeth a little. Every so often he would glance at the screen, obviously look terribly confused, then go back to his computer. 

When the credits rolled Jon declared this second-hand trauma, which terrified Sasha deeply but raised interesting questions about her own future diet. 

“It’s about the humiliation, fear, and voyeurism,” Jon told her. “Supernatural trauma and devastation tastes rather similar to these telenovelas.”

“...what do they taste like?”

Jon thought hard. “Taste, but if it was a feeling.”

“...what’s the -”

“What’s the feeling you have?”

Sasha was forced to concede the point, and put on another episode. 

In this one, Marimar’s new dad tied tragically, and she very cunningly has him sign all of his money over to her. Sasha cheered her on very enthusiastically, and Jon agreed that Marimar was the definition of girlboss, but he found it kind of a dick move. 

“I thought you hated pretentious, old money rich white Britons,” Sasha accused. She knew that Martin had been working on him and trying to convert him to socialism,, but it was slow going. 

“I do hate entitled, old money people,” Jon said shortly. “But it’s hardly illegal to work your way up the social ladder and improve your station in life. Marimar isn’t putting the work in, she’s just inheriting all of this blood money. If she doesn’t make something of her life then what’s the point in all of that suffering?”

“You do know how social mobility is a lie fed to the lower class by the upper class to keep them complacently participating in the system, right?” 

“I’m not saying many people do it,” Jon said, ignoring Marimar’s grotesquely fake sobbing, “but it’s possible. I’ve met plenty of people who worked hard and became successful.”

“Yeah, and those people were lucky. Most of us just sit around in poverty and suffer.” Sasha rolled her eyes, unwrapping her chocolate bar. “Not all of us can be Dr. Faust.”

“You didn’t sit around,” Jon said, turning to face her. Sasha didn’t meet his eyes, focusing on her chocolate instead. “You were smart, you worked your way up, you got your scholarship, and now you’re part of something far greater than yourself. You took what happened to you and you used to make you stronger, just like I did. Anybody can do it if they work hard enough.”

Sasha’s teeth clamped down on the chocolate.

Abruptly, stupidly, she got angry. 

“I’m not better than the thousands of other trans women who got kicked out, Jon,” Sasha snapped, but Jon didn’t flinch. “I’m just luckier! I know I worked hard, but I’m not more - more worthy of what I have than the brave women back home who have nothing. And I’m not going to stomp on them to make myself feel better like you do!”

“I do not -” Jon started, outraged, but Sasha cut him off. 

“You tell yourself that you worked hard for the security, money, education that you never got as a child! But you deserved all of that! That’s shit that anybody who lives deserves. But because you think of it as some kind of stupid reward, then it’s something that can be taken away. And when what you have can be taken away at any moment, then you have nothing!”

She cut herself off abruptly, unwilling and incapable of saying anything more. There were lines you couldn’t cross with Jon, and lines that she didn’t deserve to cross no matter how callous he was. She couldn’t accuse him of forgetting where he came from, or of betraying his people. Sasha knew well that Jon had never forgotten, not for a second. 

He had just - twisted everything around. He had to justify to himself what he’d done, so he’d taken the truth and molded it to fit his own desires and call it holy. 

It had killed her. It had killed her, how Jon told her that they were the same, but he did all of this shit to her anyway. But maybe that was no surprise: Jon hadn’t done anything to her that he hadn’t done to everybody else, and he hadn’t made any justifications to himself about his behavior towards her that he hadn’t made about everybody else. 

You couldn’t live like he did with emotional honesty. Good people could do bad things - Sasha knew that better than anyone - but it required a truly disgusting level of willful blindness and cowardice that Sasha had never tolerated. 

“Nobody gave me being a woman,” Sasha whispered, too full of - something, to even look at Jon. “I didn’t take it from anyone. I didn’t steal it. It was something that I always deserved, and that I always was. And because of that, nobody will ever take it away from me.” She exhaled heavily, forcing herself to stop shaking. “Nobody can make me something I’m not. Not even you.”

Jon stared at her, toxic green eyes wide and something foreign in his expression. It looked almost as if he believed her. Ha. “Sasha, I -”

“I swear, it’s like you two are making an effort to be as intrusive as possible. Jon, can’t you control your own Archivist?”

Jon almost jumped, as if he had forgotten that Jonah was in the room at all. Something in his chest seized closer, and a year ago Sasha would have just called it a twitch. 

It wasn’t. It was an aborted, concealed cringe, seen only once before. But there was only one other person in this world who cared about that. 

“Jonah!” Jon said, switching back to English immediately. “Sorry, we were just - having a really heated discussion about - uh, about -”

“Brujeria and how it changed when adopted by members of the Catholic church,” Sasha said smoothly. “I think his weird compulsion thing is just advanced witchcraft.”

“Yes! Yes, of course - you remember, I took inspiration from p - pagan rituals, you know, for our early work. I think you called it -”

“Bizarre?” Jonah asked, arching an eyebrow. “Jon, there were bones involved.” Jon silently pointed at the human skull taking up proud residence in Jonah’s cabinet of curiosities. “That’s different, a friend gave me that.”

“ ‘Have you seen Barnabas lately, Jonah’, I said. ‘He hasn’t seemed to have written lately’, I said. ‘Have you grown distant?’, I said. And you said -”

“Yes, he was very distant,” Jonah said dryly. “You hardly complained. You hated the man.”

“I hated all of your friends,” Jon said. He was smiling, once again relaxed with his arm spread over the back of the couch. Sasha furiously bit into a chip. “Didn’t mean you let them die.”

“Yes, but he was your least favorite, so I figured there was no harm done there.”

Improbably, Jon brightened. He smiled again, a curved slash of the mouth that had always been reserved for Jonah. It always spoke of secrets, a private joke. “You do care.”

“I’ll care more if you stop chattering when I’m trying to get us funded for another cycle.”

“Whatever.” Jon turned to face the screen again, letting the smile fall into a curiously blank expression. “Next episode, Sasha?”

“Sure,” Sasha said slowly. “But it only gets worse from here.”

 It would never stop being weird how - well, maybe that was no wonder. How could Sasha begin to understand a relationship as strange and esoteric as theirs? Two hundred years in the making, forged by cruelty and passion? Two lives, intertwined so closely they fed in a parasitic loop, starving the other to feed themselves? 

“Oh, I don’t mind a little tragedy,” Jon said. He spoke in English, vowels carefully rounded, posh accent meticulously stretching his words. “It’s the most entertaining.”

Sasha thought about print-outs. She thought about a many-eyed, malicious tumor of fear and pain consuming humanity alive. She thought about the face of God, and the tired and resigned face of Martin. When Sasha spoke, she stayed in Spanish.

“Even though she gets married to Mr. Douchey McChestHair at the end?”

“I’m sure he’s not all bad,” Jon said, and wouldn’t say anything more. 

[shinidamachu]

I haven't watched anything after ATLA, but I was shocked to find out that Zuko and Mai don't work out. What are your thoughts? Do you think the writers could have gone in a different direction or was it for the best?

I gotta be honest, you're not missing out much by not engaging with the extras. I only watched Legend of Korra and I don't really remember Mai even being mentioned on it.

They did give Zuko a daughter, though. Her name is Izumi. And even though they never explicitly revealed the mother to be Mai (or what was made of her), I just assumed she was the mother due to the remarkable resemblance:

Now, I haven't read the comics (nor will I ever), so if you're actually refering to them, my knowledge is very limited. But it is my understanding, from the metas I've read about them, that Zuko and Mai break up and make up, as it was their modus operandi in ATLA.

Mai not being around in LOK doesn't necessarily mean she's dead or that they broke up for good. The fate of their relationship was purposefully left open and they do end up together at the end of ATLA, so what happens after doesn't really matter since not everybody takes the comics or LOK as canon, anyway.

Now, since you asked for my opinion... I wasn’t shocked to find out about how they were portraying Maiko in the comics at all. First, because Bryke suck at writing romance. Second, because from the interactions in ATLA, this was more or less what I imagined their relationship would play out and that’s why I never shipped them.

MAIKO CRITICISM UNDER THE CUT!

The writers should have gone in a different direction, but in the ATLA finale. I love Zuko. And I love Mai. But I don’t like them as a couple because I think they are not fitted for each other. And I’m not just saying that because I’m a Zutara shipper, let’s get this out of the way right here, right now.

I’m saying this because I would rather they had ended up alone than together. Not only them, but Aang and Katara as well. They were all so young I feel like there wouldn’t be any harm for the story if no couples were canonized. 

Especially because, again: Bryke suck at writing love stories (with the notable exceptions being Yukka and Sukka) and romance was actually the less compelling part of ATLA.

More than that, if Zuko and Mai had to end up with a love interest, it shouldn’t have been each other because Maiko is actually a disservice to their characters. In some aspects, it keeps Mai from growing and it regresses Zuko's development.

You see, their relationship always struck me as something they would eventually grow out of. Don’t get me wrong, I have no doubt they really cared about each other. But the narrative went out of its way to show us that the years they spent apart changed their dynamic fundamentally.

Mai and (especially) Zuko aren’t the same people they were when they first met. And when they finally reunited, no real effort was made to learn who was this new person in fron of them. He tried to open up, but she shut him down. 

Instead of reconnecting, of deepening the relationship, they insisted on jumping head first into dating and picked things up where they left off, desperatelly trying to cling to what they knew and forcing two pieces of a different puzzle to click. Of course it wouldn’t work.

The person Zuko became needed someone passionate by his side. Someone he could open up to and confide in. Someone with the same sense of honor, of justice. Someone who understood him and his actions, who got how important it is for him to take the throne and right the wrongs of his country. Someone he could count on to help him get there. I guess we can all agree that this doesn’t sound like Mai.

The person Mai became needed someone who would focus on her and her needs for once. Someone who would have made her a priority. Someone who could actually see past her poker face. Someone who would take her away from the boring royal stuff she hates so much. I guess we can all agree that this doesn’t sound like Zuko, either.

When he took off to join the Gaang, he left the life style he had always known behind because it didn’t fit who he was anymore. He can’t go back from that. And this includes Mai. She is the personification of that life. And as much as they liked each other, being together just doesn’t make sense anymore. Especially because becoming Fire Lady inevitably traps her in the life she was trying to get away from. It’s one of the worst endings they could have given to these characters.

And the way it was executed? Even worse. They reconciled without as much as a conversation about what happened: his “betrayal”, the end of the war, what it means for their relationship, if their feelings were still the same. In fact, apparently Zuko kind of... completely forgot she was in prison and made no move to get her out because he had been too busy fighting Azula and taking lightning to the chest for Katara.

Mai isn’t even a part of the apotheosis of his arc. He got where he needed to be and she wasn’t one of the characters who activelly help him get there. This is very symbolic. And the apotheosis of her arc? Was saving him from Azula, but she didn’t did it because she understood his reasons and wanted to be supportive. She did it because he is the guy she likes. Which is fine, but not enough to “award” her with Zuko. There were feelings there, but they were never on the same page.

“Mai Alone,” is what she deserved. To travel the world on her own. A different place every day. Never the same, always moving. Maybe that way she would have seen the things Zuko did. Maybe this way she would have understood. And after tasting freedom, she would have realized she would have never want to be confined to palace walls ever again. Not for Zuko, not for anybody.

She would have been much happier as the first woman in the White Lotus or as a Bounty Hunter. A spy who, after seeing what the Fire Nation did to the world, finally found her calling by working on the shadows to make sure nothing will break the peace the Avatar and the Fire Lord managed to achieve.

And Zuko deserved the family he always wanted, with a partner who would not only put up with the political duties, but would have been thrilled to do so. Katara seems like the obvious choice here, but even Jin would have been a better fit.

Sometimes things aren’t meant to be and that’s okay. Zuko and Mai work better as friends.