#and i’m sorry i don’t think it’s very chronological to the way the tracks told the story lol

[akkivee]

IM HEARING SO MUCH ABT THE NEW DRAMA TRACK ON HYPMICTWT BUT WHAT THE HELL EVEN HAPPENED IN IT....

a lot lol!!!! some spoilers below:

the most plot relevant stuff i can think of off the top of my head (i’m letting it stew before my next listen lol)

since the mics are offline and it’s causing issues gentaro takes initiative and goes to ichiro with his infamous documents and reveals he knew rei’s name was yamada rei this whole time

genbro was taken out by the special forces in some manner

even if we don’t know whether or not gentaro and his bro are twins as per the popular hc, gentaro refers to him as his older brother

the true hypnosis mic is the center of the drama so ichiro requests they take this info to jakurai as well

we get a nifty party of ichiro gentaro and jakurai investigating leads to find a way to turn the mics back on that eventually leads them to rei’s lab i think??? a facility of some sort that they need clearance for and jakurai calls hitoya to get said access

these four, as the block party is underway, find a computer guarantee to have info they’re looking for but it’s too secure for gentaro to hack into

ichiro says the password is 0123 and yep it sure was lol

we learn yamada mama’s name is nayuta

gentaro jakurai and hitoya are called away because the block party has been crashed and ichiro is left behind with whatever information is left on this computer

running practically simultaneously, rio learned that the chuuoku women have been arrested from kubiki and, rather regretfully, tells samatoki and juto he can’t participate running the block party

upon relaying why, samatoki is worried for nemu so he tags along with rio to infiltrate the prison where rio’s commander should be

in a wild coincidence, dice happened to have been hanging out with mtc during block party preparations to eat rio’s food and had passed out in a food coma lol. after rio and samatoki left for the special prison, dice, very sombrely, left to follow them

samatoki and rio successfully infiltrated the prison, with dice shadowing their every move, and find otome and ichijiku locked up

we see rio get very angry when they act cagey about iojaku’s whereabouts

samatoki and rio split up so samatoki can check if the cells house nemu and rio can find his commander

it’s after they’ve left that dice comes in and frees otome and ichijiku

nemu had been planning to break otome and ichijiku out this whole time and her mission just so happened to run at the same time as rio’s lol so samatoki and nemu run into each other

ofc samatoki’s happy to see her but samatoki questions is this really the path nemu wanted to make??? but samatoki softens up and is always ready to help if she needs it

rio finds iojaku in his cell and out of his mind. he’s banging his head against the cell when rio finds him and unresponsive to rio but he is secured

iojaku does seem to regain some consciousness as they leave the prison tho

and the block party, all’s fcked lol honobono showed up with her squad and brought the tobari bros and the men they amassed along for the extra fck this shit up goal she had lol

of those left at the party (2️⃣3️⃣🐰🍭🥂👔🎋🍮📿🌙) saburo, ramuda, dohifu, rosasa and jyushi were urged to get to safety. rosho tho, pissed that the party’s been ruined, charges into battle and sasara follows after him with a mic stand as his weapon

but it was a lot of people for five guys to contain so the damage done was great

the tobari bros wind up finding some of guys who escaped, one of which was ramuda, and the burly tobari actually starts choking ramuda for standing up to him

he’s saved by jakurai and co arriving at the scene and jakurai makes quick work of the thugs surrounding them

the frieza tobari got away from jakurai but kuukou was on his tail and he’s also shortly beat down

brave soul hifumi goes to confront honobono and upon hearing hifumi still sees her as a friend, she’s a little disturbed to hear it actually

she’s seen enough tho so she retreats and it must turn the tide as well since the bad guys are out commission as well

the party is ruined tho, as jiro and saburo lament, but kuukou gathers the crowd and makes the pro performers, sasara and jyushi, kick off the show

rosho too, gets up on stage with sasara and they perform a comedy skit together ;w;

it does become a stalling game as they split performances based on who’s here in order for ichiro to make it back to the party

said man has found rei at their old home where the five of them used to live

the confrontation leads to what sounded like an absolutely brutal fist fight as ichiro wants rei to turn the mics back on and rei refuses to do so

at some point rei i believe reveals the 2nd drb was a test to find someone who can use the true hypnosis mic

i didn’t catch all that was said but throughout the conversation rei expressed a very defeatist mentality, but ichiro beats (literally) his words into rei that changes his mind to reactivate the hypnosis mics

it is a reckoning bell for the 3rd drb tho

with the mics back on ichiro leaves rei behind to catch his slot in the performance and rei nurses his wounds watching the block party alone in this ruined house by their fight

ichiro goes on stage tho with the hypnosis mics online again and signalling a hope

and lastly, back with otome, ichijiku and nemu, as the three get their bearings and muse what’s the next phase, otome, moved by dice’s words to her as he freed her, tells them that she’s retiring from politics

[serpenteve]

I'm having the horrible realization that Aleksander never actually did any serious wooing of Alina in the books. It's all just Alina her self being horny attracted to him. But this is supposedly???? His grand scheme???? Of manipulation???? Implications! It seems like the girls in these books wasn't the only one slut shamed. I'm- ☠

Leigh wrote a man sexy and captivating and said "it's his fault, actually, that Alina got a crush on him. He shouldn't of.... uh.." Flips through papers. "Ah, had such pretty eyes."

Okay! 👀Yes, we are finally doing this!

I'm flipping through my copy of Shadow & Bone and noting down all the interactions between the Darkling and Alina which I've put in chronological order beneath the cut.

First of all, the Darkling and Alina are only alone together in about a handful of scenes. Most of the time, the are surrounded by other Grisha or Baghra or are in a public place. A lot of the Darkling's actions and words are clouded by Alina's own insecurities. She constantly voices how she feels like she's not good enough, not pretty enough, not strong enough and he takes it in stride and gently encourages and placates her. There are a few lies he does tell her (that the Black Heretic was his ancestor, that he wants to destroy the Fold, and he doesn't know what Baghra's power is, etc) but if we extrapolate the trajectory of her ill-fated romance arc, I think even book!Darkling would have told Alina about his real plans if she seemed like she'd accept them.

A lot of speculation has been made about the Darkling's seduction of Alina and honestly???? Aleksander literally just exists and Alina is thirsting for him because she's desperately looking for validation and re-assurance. I initially head-canoned his first kiss by the lake as being pure calculation and the kiss at the Winter Fete being 100% accidental (because Dark Lord Sasha played himself lmao) but on this re-read, I don't even know anymore. He already came close to almost kissing her after they have a tender moment, catches himself and then immediately leaves before he can catch feelings. Then when they share another tender moment at the lake, he kisses her and then is surprised by it and before he can really process it, Ivan comes by to cockblock.

Like, even Leigh (as much as she has shit on this ship) said at one point that the Darkling has strong feelings for Alina, even if he may not necessarily quantify them as love. So looking back, I don't read anything the Darkling did as manipulative seduction. He obviously lied about some stuff and wasn't transparent about his real plans for the Fold, but as a military commander who sees Alina as an opportunity for a coup, it makes sense that he'd play that a little close to the chest---especially when Alina has proved to be wary of his powers and has a very black-and-white sense of morality. If anything, this is less "the Darkling seduced Alina to manipulate her into being used!!11" and more "local dark lord tried to encourage his protege and accidentally caught feelings and it was a mASSIVE FUCKING INCONVENIENCE TO HIS EVIL PLANS"

But you know who does slut-shame Alina a lot? Baghra. Seriously, Baghra makes Alina feel like shit for her crush on the Darkling numerous times. She has all these lines:

"You want to be [his pet]...Don’t bother lying to me. You’re like all the rest. I saw the way you looked at him."

"Dreaming of dancing with your dark prince?"

"Foolish girl." (After Alina shamefully admits the Darkling might come to her that night)

At one point Baghra creeps on Alina and the Darkling's interactions and even though literally nothing happens between them and when the Darkling leaves, Alina catches Baghra giving her a snooty look. ("For no reason at all, I blushed")

She is determined to shame Alina for her feelings and make her feel like a lovesick idiot for daring to crush on him and this is in addition to all the slut-shaming Mal does. The narrative revealing the Darkling is the bad guy all along while leaving Alina no compelling arc to discover this on her own feels very much like Leigh hitting us all with Baghra's stick, like "Foolish girls! You thought he cared about Alina just because he has a sexy jawline??? HAHA HE LIED YOU SLUTS"

Scenes with Alina and the Darkling in Book 1

Their first scene together is in the Grisha tent. Based on Alina's description of him, she already thinks he's hot as barely any other character in this godforsaken series gets so many descriptions of their grey/smoke/slate/quartz eyes as Aleksander does 😏

The next time they're together he saves her life. Alina is traumatized from seeing a man sliced in half and the Darkling instructs her to keep her eyes on him instead. She is disturbed that he killed the person about to murder her and this aversion seems incredibly contrived and arbitrary on behalf of the author. It's almost like she wants Alina to be vindicated and shamed for not trusting her initial bigotry against him or something 🤔The Darkling admits even he can make mistakes and then he touches the back of Alina's neck (with some secret Heartrender/Healer abilities?) and she falls asleep riding on his horse.

They spend the next few days traveling. Alina notes that the Darkling hasn't spoken to her (probably because he's focused on getting her to the Little Palace without any more assassination attempts) but Alina is a paranoid she's offended him somehow. Again, this is just Alina's insecurity painting a narrative that simply doesn't exist based on what actually happened so far.

They exchange a few words by the stream and Alina fishes for pity points by saying she's ugly and can't possibly be Grisha. Aleksander appears 100% done with her stupidity and says she doesn't understand but he's not in the mood to explain at the moment and walks off ☠️

Alina joins the Darkling and his men for a meal. She notes that the grouse they've killed is meager shared meal but that the Darkling doesn't want to put his men in danger by sending them out to hunt in the forest at night 😌He also sits on the floor to eat like they do and he doesn't take more than the regular portion than they do 😌. Sorry, how is this man the most ~evil~ wizard on the planet? He is obviously a good and fair commander and beloved by the Grisha.

Alina has been checking Aleksander out the entire time so when he catches her, he walks over to talk. He fishes around for information on what Alina has heard about him. He seems sad when Alina mentions she has heard that Darklings are born without souls, though not surprised. He then spins the story about the Black Heretic being his ancestor and how the Fold was a mistake and how every Darkling since then has tried to undo it and how Alina is "the first glimmer of hope" he's had in a long time.

Because Alina is still on that "Grisha are unnatural monsters" agenda, she asks him about the Cut and he explains it but she's still distrubed. He asks her if it would have been better if he used a sword and she replies: "I don't know". The Darkling gets offended and leaves. Alina tries to convince herself she can't have possibly hurt his feelings (because Darklings don't have souls or feelings?) and then feels paranoid that she's failed some secret test. Yeah, the test you failed is called "empathy", Alina 🙄

Two days later, they arrive at Os Alta. Aleksander roasts the Grand Palace as the ugliest effing building he's ever seen. He leaves immediately after dumping Alina at the Little Palace and Alina actually seethes that he isn't paying more attention to her? I understand that it's overwhelming to go to a brand new place, but Alina expecting him to constantly hold her hand and explain everything to her after she basically insulted him is a bit strange.

The next time Alina sees the Darkling, they are scheduled to appear before the King and Queen. The demonstration is a surprise for Alina and Aleksander's lack of transparency of what's expected of her means she's forced to rely on him and trust his instincts. This might be his underhanded way of getting Alina to see that she can trust him; that he will not make her look like a failure or humiliate her; that they are in this together and it will only work if she trusts him.

After the demonstration, Genya and the Darkling trash the monarchy for a bit (Alina is horrified) and then the Darkling orders Genya to get a black kefta for Alina, to which Alina infamously wants a blue one. The Darkling doesn't really put up much of a fight, merely wanting to know why. Alina decides he doesn't approve of her choosing blue and wonders to Genya if he's angry.

After Alina's first day, the Darkling calls her to his quarters to ask her how her day was. Alina is surprised that this is all he wanted to know because she was paranoid he was going to torture her??? She says: "Why shouldn't I be afraid of you?...You can cut people in half. I think it's fair to be a little intimidated." If the Darkling is offended or angry about this, he doesn't show it and merely indulges her. He notes that she has a habit of running her hand across a scar on her palm and asks her about it, tracing the scar himself. Alina gets distracted by his touch but manages to answer his questions: she got the scar at Keramzin, Mal is also an orphan, he is good at tracking. He shows her a secret passage back to her rooms to avoid the main hall.

Alina starts her training and at one point laments that the Darkling is rarely at the Little Palace and when he is, he never speaks to her or barely looks her way and she is convinced it's because she's a failure and can't summon light on her own. It could also be because, you know, he's the commander of the Second Army and is usually seen in talks with other military advisors and the fact that Alina kinda lowkey insulted him with her wariness about his powers???

The next time they are together, Alina interrupts him and Baghra arguing. He politely asks her how she is. Baghra antagonizes her. The Darkling defends her. They talk about amplifiers and because Baghra is being a snarky little shit about it, they take their conversation outside.

Aleksander complains about how annoying his mom is and then asks Alina what stories she's heard about Morozova's herd. At one point he laughs for the first time and Alina practically creams her pants at the sound. Alina expresses her concerns that she can't summon any light and the Darkling says he's not worried and it will happen when it happens and worse case scenario, it will happen once she has the stag. They have a quiet intimate moment, gazing softly into each other's eyes and then suddenly Aleksander realizes he's catching feelings and steps back suddenly like "GoodLuckWithYourLessonsOKayBYE". Baghra watches this interaction from her hut and gives Alina a slut-shaming look.

Alina eventually does learn to summon light on her own. Baghra gives her grief about how it's not enough. The Darkling shows up during one of these lessons and says as much. Alina says she's useless. The Darkling corrects her (“I don't think you're useless, Alina....No Grisha is powerful enough to face the Fold. Not even me”) and then he apologizes for letting her down ("I've asked you to trust me and I haven't delivered"). He wonders if his mother is right and he's crazy to hunt the stag. They have a nice bonding moment, Aleksander lies about Baghra's power, and then he asks if Alina would think him crazy for still wanting to find the stag. She asks why he cares what she thinks, he seems genuinely surprised himself that he cares. Then he kisses her. He seems not to have meant to kiss her because then Ivan shows up for his 5 o'clock shift of cockblocking and the Darkling immediately pretends like nothing happened and walks away with him. Like dude is acting like a fucking dork who's allergic to feelings at this point. I should note here that Alina practically has an orgasm from how giddy she is about this moment. She can barely think of anything else.

The next time they're together, it's at the Winter Fete. They do their demonstration and Alina accidentally reveals her insecurities about how he had kissed her and then disappeared. He responds, "Did you really think I was done with you?" and then they enjoy some steamy kisses and thigh grabbing in an empty room before a random round of Grisha show up for their 6 o'clock shift of cockblocking. Aleksander is annoyed at his own attraction to Alina. He asks if he can come to her that night but Alina doesn't get a chance to respond.

and then the Darklina romance arc falls off a giant cliff and dies a terrible death 😭😭😭

[buckysgoldenheart]

Unexpectedly Bitten

Vampire!Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Your ex gets into some trouble with Vampires, and his mistakes lead the bloodsuckers back to you. After seeing you, one vampire gets a little attached and he’s taking his time deciding what he plans to do with you, but whatever it is, you’re not afraid. In fact, you might just be a little attached to him too.

Warnings: cursing, POORLY WRITTEN smut (Haven’t done it in forever!!!!), violence. (Count on spelling mistakes or repeating words too often. it’s very likely.)

Notes: Let me emphasize this: there is little rhyme or reason to the way this story is broken into parts. I did my best though, and I stuck to 7. I tried not to make each part too long.

This is a Vampire!Henry x Reader story where each chapter, while chronological, is a different conversation or event during the course of their evolving relationship. 

Words: 1643

Part 5: Forty-Eight Hours

Even days later, you couldn’t stop thinking of him, naked in front of you, looking at you the way he was. You couldn’t stop imaging what would’ve happened if he had kissed you, and you couldn’t ignore how much you wanted him to. But of course you wanted him to. When hadn’t you wanted him to? You were certainly ready for it the very night he dragged you to his home. It was embarrassing to admit, but if your kidnapper had kissed you right after tossing you in his bedroom, you never would have stopped him.

But kiss or not, the odd look he had on his face after he told you he could hear your heart beating, nagged at you. It was partial shock, you could tell, but you didn’t understand why. As stories told, Vampires could hear the hearts of humans whenever they wanted as some sort of tracking method, but Henry acted as if it were rare.

It had changed him immediately. Suddenly, it was like he knew your every thought--how much you wanted him in that moment—and decided to test you to see if you’d act. But…he wanted it too. He wanted you, until he pulled away and ordered you back to your room. And he hadn’t spoken to you since; only sent Chris to make sure you ate and slept like a good girl.

But this became the new irritation. You no longer cared for the answers to the questions you’d had since he brought you. You wanted the answer to the question you had now. How long did he think he could keep avoiding you? You would search the whole damn castle until you found him, but then you heard voices through a crack in one of the many doors.

“The plans did not change. He is coming, Henry, in two days. Two. We knew this was happening and now it’s time,” Chris said.

You dared a peek through the sliver of space the door allowed to see Chris leaning against a desk with his arms crossed, looking at Henry, who sat in a chair with his elbows braced on his knees and head in hands.

“Hell,” Chris continued. “We tricked her boyfriend into finding us offerings for this specific situation. Which we still have none of.”

“He wasn’t her boyfriend,” Henry said, looking up. “You know that.”

“Fine. Whatever. But Elias is to be here in forty-eight hours, and he will not take this well.”

“I��ll protect her.”

Chris groaned. “Henry—”

“I heard her heartbeat.”

Chris’s head jerked and his arms dropped to his sides, then there was a long pause. “That…How? That doesn’t…that doesn’t happen anymore. Humans don’t develop those kinds of feelings for us, Henry. Not with how things are these days. I know Y/N isn’t scared of us, but still--”

“I heard it, Chris,” Henry stressed. “It was unmistakable.”

The blond blew out a long breath and shook his head. “All the more reason to get her out of here, then,” Chris said. “I get it, ok, you know I do. You don’t want to let her go, but think clearly. If she’s here when he arrives and we refuse to hand her over, he will realize how you feel and break her.”

Henry’s head fell as he cracked one hands knuckles with the other. “…I know.”

“Then, fix this. Preferably before we’re all screwed.” Chris walked over to Henry and squeezed his shoulder. “I care about our little human too, Henry, but this is safest for us all.”

You took in a shaky breath, but it was just loud enough for the vampires to hear, and Chris was swinging the door open before you had another chance to inhale. He looked at you, then back at Henry, who appeared in the doorway alongside Chris a moment later.

“Chris…” Henry began. “Can you—”

“Yea,” He replied, giving you sympathetic look before disappearing down the hall.  

Henry took you by the hand and led you inside the office, shutting the door behind you. He eyed you up and down and then shook his head to himself with a sigh. “I’m taking you back.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“You don’t belong here,” He said. His voice was turning stony; hardened. He was building a wall to shove you away. “This was a mistake.”

“No.” You stepped back, pulling your hand out of his grasp.

“You can’t be here when he comes.”

“Why? What if I hide, or stay quiet, or—"

“No.”

“Henry, I’m not scared of some big, bad vampire!” You all but stomped your foot in defiance.

“I’m scared!” He yelled. His voice boomed off the walls and rattled in your ears, its intensity matching the flare in his eyes. Your whole body seemed to jolt back as if the mere force of it could knock you off your feet. “He…” He began as he stepped closer, raising his hands to touch you but thought better of it and clenched his fists. “He will try to take you from me and drain you. If I refuse to give you up, he will snap your neck in front of me to make me suffer. Do you understand? I am not allowed to have you.”

“But—”

“No.” Henry looked down, unable to watch the devastated look as it took hold in your eyes. “You are going back first thing in the morning.”

“Henry, please.” You put your hands on his cheeks to try to get him to look at you, but he remained stubborn. “I don’t want to go back. Don’t make me.”

“I don’t care what you want right now. You are--”

You leaned up and kissed him hard, just to get him to shut up, to stop him from saying the words that dared to break your heart. “Let me stay,” You whispered against his lips as you slid your hands over until they settled at the back of his neck.

“Lamb,” He muttered, still averting his gaze. He sounded tortured, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel sorry for what you had done. You wanted to stay with him. You needed to stay with him, desperately, and that trumped all else. “Why’d you have to go and do that?”

“Let me stay…” You said again, giving him another quick peck. He wrapped his arms snuggly around your waist like a possessed man, pulling your bodies close, your chest to his.

His eyes remained closed, but his eyebrows pinched together as he touched his forehead to yours. “Fuck…I can hear it again.”

“Hear what?”

“Your heart.” With a light groan, Henry inched his head down to your chest and placed a kiss on the top of your left breast, then peppered a slow trail of kisses up to your neck. His lips sucking at the spot just under your ear forced a small cry to tear from your throat. It was the final piece he needed to fall off the edge. You both knew he wasn’t going to stop now, and you thanked even the Devil himself for weakening Henry’s composure.

His fingers traveled down your sides, and when they reached the hem of your dress, they sharply yanked the fabric up around your waist. You were lifted in his arms and whirled around until roughly placed on the cherry wood desk.

You separated your kiss to rip his shirt over his shoulders, and he dragged your underwear down your legs until he could toss them to the side, then he settled himself between your legs and grabbed under your knees to hike them up around his hips. One of your hands fisted in his short hair and pulled his lips back down to yours when you could no longer take the distance.

When you couldn’t reach the buckle of his belt, you groaned and tugged at the waist of his jeans until he stopped his kisses and looked down at you. “Off,” You said.

“Yes, Lamb,” He breathily chuckled and did as you asked, making your eyes go wide as his cock sprang free from any confines. As you gaped, he reached up and slid the straps of your dress down until it bunched at your waist, uncovering your breasts. “So perfect,” He whispered and kneaded them in his palms, running his thumbs over your nipples until they peaked for him.

“Kiss me,” You said.

“Anything you want,” He hummed and nudged his nose against yours before connecting your lips again. As he lined himself up with your entrance, you quivered in anticipation, unsure if you could take it. But he didn’t give you much of a chance to worry whether or not he would fit, stuffing himself deep inside of you before you could think and forcing stars at the back of your eyelids.

You moaned at the mix of pleasure and pain, biting his lip until you tasted his sweet blood, but he didn’t even flinch. He just kept kissing you, his blood smearing on your mouth the way your lipstick would on his until you were sure you looked like a vampire yourself, right after draining your latest victim.

Each thrust destroyed you entirely. You felt fulfilled in a way you never knew you could. You felt right, as if everything in your life prior to him inside of you had been wrong. Never before would you think something so ridiculous, that you could care less for the life you had solely because of a man. But this man was different. To you, he was more than a man. He was protective, yes, but he didn’t force his claim on you despite your willingness to give yourself over. You weren’t his human toy, and he didn’t want you to be. Because, to him, you were more, too. And you knew that now.

----

Tags:  @agniavateira​ @tumblenewby @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @summersong69​ @starlite13​ @mstgsmy​ @purplelove75​ @defffcc​ @the-soot-sprite​ @kissthatlifeaway @atomicpaperhairdouniversity​ @aquariuslavenderhoney​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @the-problem-of-leisure​ @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair​ @readermia​ @angelofthorr​ @itmejado​ @caro-jean​ @raven-black102​ @itty-bitty-dancer​ @grungeisntmything​ @wolfiepirate​ @scuzmonkie @heartfullofl @wanderlustkitkat @maan24​ @furievonalexandria​ @posiemax​ @sweetybuzz25​ @iamthetwickster

[oh-my-may]

Sugar, spice and everything nice ✵ Osamu Miya x reader

making christmas cookies with Osamu! ft. an Atsumu appearance at the end!

pairing: Miya Osamu x gender neutral reader

warnings: very mild swearing? (also this was not proof read so forgive any mistake you might come across)

genre: fluffy fluff

word count: 2.7k

Day 1 of my december/christmas event! I won’t be posting the works in chronological order/ the way they are on the list and rather in the order I like best. Decided to post this one first because I recently also made cookies and it really got me in the christmas mood :) Have fun!

Also sorry that this was not posted on the 1st as I was planning on, but I was really struggling with uni and time management lately, but I wrote this on one afternoon and I am kinda proud!

Your eyes slowly traced over the scenery in front of you: baking ingredients neatly plastered all over the counter, the packages even sorted from biggest to smallest, starting with the flour and ending with eggs. In front there stood a bunch of bowls, all of the same kind and just in different sizes, all of them stacked together. The work space of the kitchen had been cleaned and the light bouncing of the counter almost blinded you if you looked at it for too long. And of course, in front of all the counters, dressed in a candy cane coloured apron and messy hair stood Osamu, who was going over all the ingredients for what felt like the fifth time, making sure nothing was missing. Every now and then he looked up to give you a small smile before he returned to the task at hand.

After a few minutes you had enough and sighed dramatically, leaning over the counter as you stood opposite of him. “Samu, do you really think this is the way to do this?” The man in question looked up at you in confusion, the expression and widened eyes suddenly making him look several years younger. “Why would it not be? I’m just making sure everything is in order.” You bit your lip as a smile made its way to your lips. You finally moved and made your way around the counter, your fingers brushing along the border of the kitchen counter. “Look, I don’t know about you, but to me making Christmas cookies was always more of a messy experience, which in no way is to be seen as negative.” You slowly took his hands, which still hovered over the ingredients, and pulled him closer to you. “What I really like about you is that compared to your brother you like things neatly organized and ordered, but maybe put that aside for today, mh? For me.” He analysed your face critically for just a split second before he sighed and looked away. The way you looked up at him with your big eyes have always had a strong effect on him. “Alright”, he sighed and raised one of his hands to brush over your hair. “Then you’re the boss for today.”

You face brightened up immediately and you clapped your hands in an excited manner as you moved past him to play some festive music and he could only watch in delight, seeing as this made you so happy. He helped you put on an apron and then obliged to your commands as you researched your favourite recipes and slowly got to work.

Frankly, his preparations made the whole process a lot easier and faster in the beginning, as you just had to mix all the ingredients together. Everything was still in order and neatly organized during the first round, you had big fun rolling out the dough and deciding which shapes to cut out of the dough in front of you. You two bickered over the decisions, Osamu insisting on making the cookies look “elegant” with a bunch of fancy decorations like almonds, walnuts, even pistachios and expensive chocolate. You smiled at him as he explained his ideas but then slowly put your hands on his broad shoulders and got on your tip toes, before leaning in and cutting his words off with a soft kiss. You felt Osamu tense up and relax under your grip as his hands followed your hands from his shoulders down your extended arms to your waist, pulling you closer. But you leaned away too soon, tipping the tip of your finger against his lower lip. “You could have just told me to shut up, y’know” he mumbled and you grinned, shaking your head. “We both know that that is not the truth, ‘Samu.” Osamu looked not especially pleased as you clearly compared him to his brother, as they were both the same when it came to this. You giggled and turned away, trying to slip out of his grip. When he didn’t let you, you pouted and reached for the first thing near you – which, unfortunately, was the package of flour. You took a hand full of the white substance and threw it right at him in defence, not thinking twice. Poor Osamu got blinded by the white mist and struggled to breath for a few moments, coughing in some of the powder. “Oh my god” was the only expression the could leave your lips repeatedly as you took in the scene and watched your boyfriend struggle and dance around weirdly in an attempt to get rid of the haze in the air, waddling his arms around. You really wanted to help but all you could do was laugh more intensely with every second that passed.

Eventually, the flour disappeared and all that was left of it was a small film of it on the kitchen counter and the floor. And, of course, Osamu as well. His silver hair was now coated in white chunks of flour and you could see some smudges of it on his face and apron. He considered you throroughly for a while, his eyes scanning your figure from top to bottom, before he also grabbed the flour and you gasped, putting your hands up in defence. “WAIT! PEACE! I want peace! I’m sorry!”

Osamu stopped in his tracks, watched you for another five seconds and then sighed and slapped the flour on the counter. “Fine, then. We should continue on with the cookie baking or we won’t be finished until tomorrow morning. But this isn’t forgotten. I will take my revenge.” You nodded, trying to take his words seriously, but you couldn’t help but let a few wheezes escape your mouth in the process. “You’re right, we should continue.” You got closer to him again only hesitantly, until he took your wrist and pulled you next to him with an annoyed look, but you knew better. Just as much as you, he enjoyed these little games and playful times in your relationship and you smiled at him as you both resumed work on the cookies.

This time however, after the first trays landed in the oven, the dough preparation was messier, as you needed to focus on many things at once. Making sure you got the measurements right, cleaning up the used bowls and other materials and checking on the cookies in the oven. You got a bit more experimental with the cookies this time, adding more spices or other ingredients to create new textures for the dough. You didn’t speak much this time around, rather you enjoyed each other’s company, the festive smell lingering in the room with you and the bright melodies echoing from the walls, finding their way right into your souls. Sometimes Osamu would playfully bump into you as you were cutting out the cookies, and when you looked at him he had already gotten back to work, yet there was a mischievous smile lingering on his lips.

When you were finished cutting out the cookies, you were ready to put in the remaining trays into the oven, but Osamu halted you, putting another figure made up of dough on the tray you were holding. “What’s that?” “A cookie.” “It has a weird shape.” “It’s not finished just yet. Stop judging my work now and focus on not burning your fingers babe.” You rolled your eyes but took his comment with a smile, considering his thoughtful figure scanning the recipes after you were done with your task. There was still flour on his features, but for whatever reason it made him even more charming, as the soft yellow and red lightning from the Christmas decorations illuminated him. Some of the lights were reflected in his dark grey eyes, making it seem like there were tiny stars dancing in them. He looked up suddenly when he noticed your figure not moving, a questioning look in his eyes. But they grew a lot softer and formed into a smile when he took in your features and walked up to you, lacing both of his big hands on either side of your face, squishing the soft skin of your cheeks. “You’re so adorable, sweetheart.” He cooed and moved his nose against yours. Your breath hitched as you finally realized what he had meant. Even though it was already warm in the room, you had still managed to blush wildly at the sight of your boyfriend, your face heating up unnaturally in the process. A chaste kiss is left on the tip of your nose, before Osamu takes his hands off your face and places them on yours instead, intertwining your fingers. “Let’s wait until the last cookies are finished, yes?” He mumbles just above your ear, warm breath brushing along your hair, causing your to shiver. A consenting hum left your vocal folds as you leaned into his large figure, his heartbeat right under your ear beating at a slow and steady rhythm. Before you knew it your bodies were moving slowly, feet brushing over the tiles on the floor along to the soft beat of Cold December Night now flowing through the speakers. There was something incredibly reassuring about the weight of his head on top of yours, his cheek brushing over your hair and his hands on your waist and back trailing nonsense patterns on the fabric of your sweater and yet you felt it right through your skin. During the last chorus of the song your felt Osamus hand wander up from your waist, along your neck to your face, his fingers holding up your face to him, his thumb trailing over your bottom lip before pulling you in for a kiss, starting up slow but slowly pressing you towards the counter, your hips pushing against the edge of it. Your hearts beat sped up with every time Osamus lips captured yours, every single time a bit more passionate than the last. You tasted the sweetness of his mouth, asserting that you certainly where not the only one to try some bits of the raw dough, smiling at this realization. But then something cold and weird hit your face, something with a structure you couldn’t determine right away. Your eyes suddenly opened in shock, staring at your grinning boyfriends face through a soft haze of white. It took you a whole second to realize what had just happened “SAMU!” you screamed in horror, his unstoppable laughter ringing in your ears. You sighed in frustration and angrily moved your hands to your face to brush away the chunks of flour that surely found its place on your cheeks and even forehead. Osamu took a second to look at you, before he returned to laughing wildly. You blew away some hair that was messily hanging in your face, letting the situation wash over you and watching as your boyfriend enjoyed his victory. You couldn’t really be mad at him, you had it coming after that situation earlier today. So there was nothing left to do for you other than sit it out.

After Osamu had finally calmed down, he got closer to you again, his hand hovering over your head. “You look like a vampire, sweetheart.” You just glared at him and he chuckled, sighing. “Alright Dracula, the cookies should be done soon, come on.” He dragged you to the oven, where you prepared the different chocolates to dip in and decorate the cookies with, as well as all the sprinkles and icing. When everything was done, you hurriedly decorated all the baked goods. Trying to make special patterns on the cookies turned out to be a lot harder than you both thought and sure enough one time Osamu got distracted and upset, so he just pressed his in chocolate covered finger to your nose, but you ducked away the second he tried to lick it off. “That’s nasty, keep that kinda behaviour out of the kitchen, Miya.” “But you liked it just a few minutes ago.” He whispered sheepishly and grinned, earning an elbow hit from you. You will sure as hell not sacrifice hundreds of cookies for his horniness, that was for sure. After several such attempts and only two clap backs from your side, he finally gave up and resumed to decorating the cookies. He even got every much into it, which surprised you somehow. He kept on giggling to himself, but he wouldn’t let you see what he was doing. “Not until it’s finished and dried!” he insisted, so you went back to decorating the rest of the cookies.

When you were finished with all the cookies, the first ones you had worked on had already dried and you tried to steal looks at Osamus work. “What were you giggling about earlier, huh? What’s so funny about decorating cookies?” He looked at you almost a bit offended. “Isn’t Christmas supposed to be a holly jolly time? Am I not allowed to be happy and smile?” You sighed and playfully smacked his arm, but he turned away before you could do it a second time. “Fine, take a look. I really tried my best… With some.” He added the last part in a quieter but amused tone as you considered his cookies. You finally recognized the shapes, he had taken many of the human/ man formed cookies to decorate. Grunts escaped your lips as you looked at what could only resemble Osamus team mates, considering the colour of their clothes and hair. Everything else somehow… Didn’t look as recognizable. “What happened to their faces.” “I lived out my inner fantasy – punching a volleyball in everyone’s face. This is what I imagine it to look like.” You couldn’t hold the laughter anymore as your eyes kept on flying over the tray and got stuck on a collection of cookies that all portrayed the same person. “Is that your brother?” you laugh loudly, looking at all the cursed faces on the cookies. Osamu nodded proudly. “Looking as good as never before.”

After your laughter has faded out into a long sigh, your eyes landed on the last cookie that Osamu made, considering it carefully. “Is that-“ “That’s us, babe.” Osamu states proudly and lifts the cookie up so you can look at it better. “I hope I don’t offend you with this, but it’s just really hard capturing your real beauty on a damn cookie. You look nowhere near as bad as your dough twin-“ You cut him off with a quick kiss. “Shut up, it’s perfect. I wouldn’t have been able to do any better.” You giggle against his lips before he pulls you in for another kiss like the one before, this time you could just hope he didn’t have any ulterior motive of pressing baking ingredients in your face. But of course this time you were interrupted as well.

“Eww, don’t you two know that the kitchen is a commonly used space in this house? Would you please mind NOT spreading your hormones across every surface in this damn house?” Atsumu enters the house in that exact moment, the sight in front of him not exactly being the first thing he expected OR wanted to see. When you both turn to look at him he drops his bag, his expression changing to something between confusion and disgust. “What the hell happened with you? Are you not supposed to cover the cookies with chocolate and not other people?” When neither of you answer he just grunts and sloppily moves past you to investigate the products of your work. Osamu rolls his eyes at his twin and you grin, the anticipation building up. You could only imagine what Atsumu’s reaction to his cookie-selfs would be like, but the reality was so much better.

“YA! SAMU! What the hell is this? Ya think this is funny or what?” Atsumus angrily picks up one cookie of himself and points it at his brother like someone would with a sword, however it was not frightening at all. Osamu turns quickly to wink at you, before he answers his brother “I don’t know what your problem is, this looks better than you ever have or will.”

~ Cue them bickering and fighting in the kitchen and you kinda have to intervene before someone gets hurt because this is a KITCHEN and you don’t want to imagine what this could end like with all the knives around and such~

THE END

[starkatana]

Safehouse

Jason Todd x Female Reader

Red Hood x Female Reader

Summary:

Red Hood gets injured and calls you for your help. Very fluffy and sweet.

I needed fluffy and sweet after working on this angsty story.

Warning: Light swearing, mentions of marijuana

Before Reading:

Your hero name is: Black Cat

Imagine your suit to look a lot like Selina’s (Catwoman’s suit)

Since his return your relationship with Jason has been tense. You still have feelings for each other and this is your first interaction together not ending in a yelling match.

At this point in the story you two are 22/23; while at prom you were both 18 - seniors in high school about to graduate.

Thanks! And shout-out!

The prom section is inspired by this post by @geekandnerdworld

I used a prompt from this post by @writing-ideas-inc 

Author’s Note:

So, here begins my various one-shots of Jason Todd/Red Hood x Reader//y/n AKA my current obsession. I may compile all of them into chronological order once everything is done. I just really wanted to write and post something. I just have too many WIP’s right now that I need to focus on.

Sorry if it's a little out of character, this is just based on my knowledge that Tumblr has given me.

Enjoy! ~<3

You received an SOS from Jason with his location. You haven’t heard from Jason in a while, but you weren’t going to ignore an SOS from him. Quickly getting dressed as Black Cat, you rush to this location. The coordinates lead you to his old orphanage; you had been here a few times before with Jason. Volunteering to hang out, teach, and play with the kids.

You parked your bike out front and carefully climbed the fence. The orphanage was warm and inviting. The upper levels of the building were dark, it was nighttime and you knew that’s where the kids slept. The downstairs, the main entrance light was on along with the outside lights. You creep up quietly to the front door and saw a note in Jason’s writing that said: ‘Back door.’

You follow your instructions and go to the back. You knock on what you remember to be the kitchen door and the friendly face of the orphanage care-taker answered.

“Black Cat.” She opened the door wider for you, “Come in.”

You nod and stepping in Jason, as Red Hood, was sitting on a chair in the kitchen.

“Cat.” Jason looked over at you, “You came.”

“Of course I came.” You walk over to him as she closes the door behind you. “Are you okay?” You ask as you instinctively begin to look over Jason’s wounds. Nothing stitches wouldn’t be able to handle. Maybe some bruising, but nothing too crazy.

“I’m fine.” He winced, “I need some help getting home. Miss wouldn’t let me leave unless someone went with me.”

She sighs. “You can stay here Ja-” the orphanage caretaker stops herself, “Red Hood.”

“No, it’s okay.” He gets up and you instinctively go to reach for him in case he falls over. “I’ll be back to get to the bottom of things, but right now, I’m going home.”

She sighs, “You heroes and your secrets. Be safe out there.”

“Always am.” He makes his way to the door, “C’mon Cat.”

You nod and follow him out, once the door shuts behind you two, he winces over.

“Jay.” You help him up.

“I’m okay.”

“C’mon, let me carry you.”

He agrees and they continue to walk.

“Thank you.”

You don’t respond knowing how much it probably took him to say that. You only smile to yourself and walk over to his motorcycle.

“I have someplace we can go to close-by that’ll be safe.”

“Okay. I’ll drive you just give me directions.”

He agrees. Getting on his bike, you put your bike in automatic drive and send it back to the Batcave knowing that Bruce’s tracking device was still set up on it. Jason gives you the key for his bike and you start it up as he sits up behind you on the bike.

“You good?” you ask.

“Better.”

Arriving at the safe house, you almost missed it because the safehouse was a flower shop. It was four stories, the fourth being a large greenhouse looking level.

“Are we at the right place?”

“Yeah.”

Jason unlocked the garage and pushed up the door, as you pushed the bike in. Inside there are a variety of flowers and arrangements. Jason led you upstairs to the third floor. He unlocks the door and gestures after you.

Walking in, it was a very open space with beautiful red brick walls and black framed windows. The apartment, if you want to call it that, had an open floor plan where the living room, dining space, and kitchen flowed into each other. It was nicely decorated with a variety of houseplants hanging around. There was a little section that dipped down with a couple of stairs and above you was a glass-paneled roof with black trim.

“How is this a safehouse?” you ask him still looking up, “There’s an entire section where the roof is glass.”

“I just said it was safe, not a safehouse.”

“I suppose. This looks like it could be one of Ivy’s lairs.”

He shrugs, “you could say that.”

“Is it?”

“I mean, making money by selling some sweet kush isn’t a bad side job.”

You let out a light chuckle, “I guess not.” You look up and around, the sky had cleared and the stars were out.

“It’s bulletproof glass.”

“I wasn’t concerned about the glass and getting caught. I was just looking at the sky.”

He nods and looks up with you, “Can I be frank?”

“No.” you shift your eyes to look at him without moving your head, “I’d like you to be Jason.”

You could practically feel him roll his eyes at you under the sliver of moonlight. “Glad to know your jokes are still terrible.”

You move your head to face him with a smile you haven’t worn in a long time, “What’s going on?”

“To be honest, when Ivy first offered me the place and I saw this brick wall and the large window roof, I could only think of you and I hoped that I’d have another chance to look at the stars with you.”

You purse your lips. That was really cute. “I don’t understand. What about Artemis?”

“You caught me. You were right, I was only with her to hurt you and make you jealous. She knew. You knew. I was only kidding myself. She broke up with me, if we were even dating, told me to quit being a little bitch and to give up my pride and go back to you.”

You don’t respond. “Where's the first aid supplies?” you ask changing the conversation.

“Bathroom.”

You nod. “You try to get out of that suit. I’ll be right back.”

Jason let out a hiss of air.

“You okay?” you ask pulling on the stitch to tighten it.

“Yeah. It just stings like a son of a bitch.”

“Always does. Okay. Take a breath and let it out slowly.

Jason listens and at the time he exhales, you make another stitch, followed by a knot. “Alright, you’re done.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” You say, “Let’s get some rest.”

“Yeah. You can have the bed.” Jason offered, “There’s only one here.”

“Does it have this view?” you gesture to the window ceiling.

“No.” he gives you a half-smile, “I can get the bed out here for you.”

“Not with the new stitches I just put in. Thanks, Jaybird, but the couch is fine for me.”

There’s a noticeable pause between you two.

“I haven’t heard that in a while.”

“Hm?”

“Jaybird, I miss it. It’s either Red or Jason now. I feel like people only call me Jaybird when they aren’t mad at me.”

It had been a while since you called him by his nickname. He was right though. Since he’s been back, you’ve been upset and always called him Jason or dickhead. In your alter egos, you either call him Red, Hood, or Red Hood. Yet, you haven’t had a real conversation with Jason in a while.

“Well, it’s been a while since we’ve had a civil conversation.”

“Yeah... why did you answer my call?”

You pause. He was right. You had no reason to answer his call. You didn’t need to answer anything. He’s been a major dick since he’s been back and you two haven’t had any positive contact. Yet all you could answer, “Why wouldn’t I?”

He pauses.

“Here’s a question for you, why call me?”

There’s another pause.

“Do you want something to sleep in? I have some spare T-shirts in the bedroom and some shorts you could tie at the waist to fit you.”

You give up the conversation. “Please.”

He leads you to the bedroom. The room screamed Jason Todd, it wasn’t a mess but it wasn’t neat either. There were a variety of books, a closed laptop, spare Red Hood helmets, and a domino mask or two.

“Here.” He gives you a clean shirt and a pair of shorts.

“Thanks.” There was a tense air between you two. You wondered if he could feel it too. There was so much to say and it just didn’t feel like the right time to say it all. “Good night, Jay.”

“Y/n,” you look at him expectantly. You weren’t sure what you wanted him to say, but you stopped to listen. “Good night.”

You smile at him and show yourself out of the bedroom. Going to close the door behind you, you take one more lingering look at Jason, who makes eye contact with you giving you a sad look. You turn away and click the door shut behind you.

After changing into his T-shirt, you don’t put on the pants, his waist was just too big for you. You go lay down on the couch. This was what Jason smelled like, it was a comforting, familiar smell. You missed it a lot. You brought it over your face, this was Jason and he was real. You stared at the stars in the sky and remembered the first time you two went star gazing, it was prom night.

You and Jason had just left the prom, went out to eat at your favorite diner, and went back to Wayne Manor. An overall perfect night. You two stayed dressed in your formal wear and made hot chocolate in the kitchen. Not wanting to call it a night just yet, you two laid on the manor’s roof watching the stars.

You two were laughing and giving each other shit.

Jason sighs and lays down next to you, “Y’know, I’ve never had a real friend before.”

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes.

“It's true!”

“Okay.” You mock, “Let me just call Roy.”

“Oooh nooo, what's Mister Bow and Arrow, what’s he gonna do?”

“Dump your ass so you definitely won’t have a ‘real friend’.”

“Then my point still stands:” you could hear the cheekiness in his voice, “I have never had a real friend.”

“Well, I am your friend, Jaybird.” You say turning your head to look at him.

Jason looks over at you with a big smile on his face.

“What?”

“I’ve also never had a girlfriend...”

You roll your eyes and shake your head looking away from him and back towards the starry sky. He’s quiet and in your peripheral vision, you could see that he was still staring at you.

“Y/n,” his fingers gently brushed against yours. Not grabbing your hand just being close. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

You look back over at Jason and swallowed hard. He was being serious. His blue eyes glimmered under the light of the moon. He had on a soft smile that he only shares with you. The time that you two spent together training, going on patrols, dancing, school, laughing, mischief-making, the short amount of time you knew Jason you couldn’t imagine your future without him.

You gently move your hand and lock your fingers with his. “Yes.”

He smiles and lifts your hand to his lips kissing the back of it. Letting his lips linger over your hand as his soft breaths tickled your skin as you stared into each other’s eyes. You never wanted this moment to end.

You hear a door click open. You sit up and Jason is walking into the main area.

“Sorry.” He says, “I was just grabbing some water.”

“No worries.”

“Can you sleep?”

“No.”

“Want some hot cocoa and watch the stars?”

“Yes.”

Jason made you some hot chocolate and took a seat on the ground while you laid on the couch. Getting into a conversation about the year. You explained to him what you tried to do, fighting through waves Joker’s men to get to him. How you wanted Joker to suffer for killing Jason. Then explaining that you were lucky when the other bat fam members showed up to save your ass.

“Then Dick went after Joker and manage to successfully beat him up. Bruce had to step in to stop him before they put Joker back in Arkham.”

“Again? When is he going to get that’ll never work?” Jason rolled his eyes.

“Yeah. We didn’t get much of a say, I was in the infirmary and the girls kidnapped me to NYC before Bruce could say anything.”

Jason was quiet before he said, “You and Dick are the only two in this family that I fucking respect. Trying to kill Joker like that. Badass. Thank you.”

You smile and finish your cocoa. He didn’t even know the half of it. “Your turn. Where were you? What did you do? What happened while you were away?”

“Recover.” he shrugged, “I was going through rehabilitation. Physical therapy. I sat around in the Lazarus Pit,” he gestured to his white tuff in front. “That’s where this came from. Don’t know why we just didn’t do that sooner.”

“And here I thought I’d never see you again. You were suffering all by yourself.”

“There was one more thing,” Jason turns around to face you, “Bruce thought it’d be a great idea to give me the letters you wrote me. I don’t know why, but I got your letters. So, I wasn’t completely alone. It was when Peter came into the picture when,” He said the next part slowly, “I…got…jealous.”

“Wait? All of them?”

“I’m assuming. He gave me a lot.”

“Oh my god!” You sat up on the couch, “I wrote so much in those.” you covered your face from embarrassment. “I didn’t think anyone was going to read them!”

“Hey.” Jason got on the couch with you and gently grabbed your hands to uncover your face, “They gave me hope that I’d see you again. Your letters made me feel like I wasn’t so alone.”

“And now I’m mad!” you took his hands back and pointed a finger in his face, “You had all of my letters! You had an idea of how I felt while you were gone! And you still pulled all that shit, Jason Peter Todd!”

“Yeah,” he held his hand up in defense, “I’m sorry. It was dumb and stupid.”

“You’re dumb and stupid.” You gently shove him away.

“I mean you’re right.”

“Stop. I don’t mean that.”

He smiles, “I think after all the shit I pulled, you can be mean to me.”

“I don’t want to be,” you sigh leaning against your arm propped up on the back of the couch, looking at him “I’m tired of fighting.”

“Me too.” He begins, “This was nice. Thank you.”

You nod and he matches your body language. Sitting in the silence of each other. It didn’t feel odd, it didn’t feel the same, it felt new. Like a door had opened where you could both move forward.

“And so you know this still stands. Reading all your letters, talking tonight again, even after me being a dick to you. I’ve never given much thought to others’ hopes and dreams, but when you talk about yours, I want them all to come true. I only want you to be happy.”

You smile and for the first time, you touch his arm gently in a manner of love and affection.

“Y/n,” he says with his hand over yours.

“Jaybird.”

“Please don’t give up on me.”

[psychedellic-phase]

Fifteen (pt 2)

tw: none, fluffy

wc: 2337

Part one!

Spencer almost ran every red light and stop sign on his drive home. He didn’t even put the radio on. The only music was the sound of his ragged breath and skyrocketing heart beat. It hadn’t sunk in for him yet that you were really, truly, gone. You had only called it quits a few weeks ago, and work was okay. Good even. Hotch was nice enough to split you guys up a lot, sending you with JJ or Derek and Spencer with the newest member, Alex Blake. In the few small interactions you had, the two of you were better than you had been during the last few months of your relationship. It was just like the old days, before everything went sour. He guessed that was just you faking how much pain you were really in, and he was right. He cursed himself for not noticing that either. 

He sat on his couch and opened up the box again to find envelope 1: 

“Okay, Hey Spence. I’ll try not to be so long winded, but bear with me throughout this. I want you to really understand what happened between us. 

These are going to go chronologically, so the story starts before we even started dating. The story starts the day I realized I loved you. November 17, 2010. So please take out: 

1. Welcome Interstate Managers- Fountains of Wayne. 

Please direct your attention to track 3. Stacy’s Mom. This may be my favorite memento from us. It’s so innocent. We were so innocent then, but not anymore.”

He took the disk out and ran his hands over the case. It had never been opened and still had the plastic film on it. He flipped it over and read the track list to find #3, ‘Stacy’s Mom’. He immediately knew where this was going. The memory hit him like a sack of bricks, knocking the air out of him and making it hard to breathe. 

“This also may be one of my favorites because it’s so not you. No one would think that Stacy’s Mom of all songs would be so important to us. But it is, because it was the beginning. 

We had just gotten back from that weird, awful case in LA. The one where the taxi driver had the weird smell thing and would remove skin from the victim’s feet? And Emily was being suspicious? Yeah, we had just gotten back from that one and Derek and I had each given you $50 to finish the paperwork for us. We were joking around and arguing about basketball of all things. I don’t have an eidetic memory but I remember that day so clearly. 

“Is this really the hill you want to die on Derek Morgan?” I said. 

“Yes, Y/N, Michael Jordan will always be the best basketball player of all time,” Derek said back.

“I’m just saying Lebron or Kobe could definitely pass him at some point! Especially now that Lebron’s on the Heat. Him, Wade, and Bosh are going to kill it.” 

“Why do you know so much about basketball Y/N?”

You weren’t paying attention to us. You were doing the work we should have been doing. You always were the good one, Spence. When Em or D  or I would go off the rails, you always kept it together. I admire you for that. I had a crush on you at the time. It wasn’t full blown yet, but it was enough to make me flustered and blushing any time I was near you. 

I told Derek that I was a pretty big basketball fan because my brother had drilled it all into me when I was a kid. He scoffed and told me I didn’t seem like the sporty type. 

“Well not everyone can kick down a door in one move like you, but I’m pretty athletic!” I argued. 

“Athletic? C’mon Y/L/N, Hotch keeps you and Reid at the stations for a reason. You’re not a bad shot but your specialty is interrogation.”

I faked offense, being dramatic as usual. But, really I was a little hurt and D could tell. You had finished the paperwork then, and handed both of us files. 

“Do you think I’m athletic?” I asked you. 

You smiled shyly, “I mean, you’re not the most athletic but you’re not bad.”

“See?” Derek said, and I shoved him playfully. 

“I’m not exactly athletic either,” You said, and you did the tongue thing that you don’t even know you do. The one where you poke it out of one side of your mouth. It makes me a little weak in the knees. 

“I was bad at everything at the Academy Y/N.”

“Yeah? Like what?” I asked, “You’re good at everything.” Derek laughed, but I meant it. You are good at everything.

“Marksmanship, physical training, obstacle course, Hogan's Alley, you know, pretty much everything that wasn't technically book related. They ultimately had to make exceptions to allow me into the field.” You admitted, getting a sheepish smile on your face.”

Spencer stopped reading then, and wiped his eyes. He had allowed a few tears to fall as he read. He remembered this day so fondly. You guys have always been friends; the whole team is a family. But you always stuck more around Emily and Derek when you could. You worked with Spencer well, it wasn’t that you didn’t like him. In hindsight, you avoided him because of your crush on him. The thought made a smile creep up on his face. It was a watery smile, but still a smile. At that time in his life he was so insecure and unsure of himself but you always made him feel validated. When he would go on his rambling tangents about weird facts you always smiled and nodded when the others tuned him out. He needed that then, and, honestly, still needs it now. 

All of you, especially Spencer, were still reeling from the loss of JJ to the state department. It was a constant reminder of how quickly everything could fall apart. So, he needed good memories, good days. Days like November 17. A few of his tears smeared the ink and mixed with your dried tear stains. He sighed, how did he get here, only being close to you through mixed tears? He shook the thoughts away and kept reading. 

“This is a long one, sorry Spence, but the backstory is important I think. So anyways, we handed in the paperwork you did for us and we all went down to the parking garage together. Derek got in his car and left, probably to meet some girl of the week. Emily was gone, she was still being weird, which we all learned about later. Rossi? Hotch? Garcia? Who knows where they were. All that mattered was you and me, laughing about how not athletic we are as we made our way to our cars that we parked next to each other every day. I don’t even remember how we started the parking thing, but if I got there and I saw your car I made sure to be next to it. And you did the same. Somehow it made me feel safe. And of course, that day your car wouldn’t start. So I graciously tried to help you jump it, but still nothing. You reeled off the facts of how jumping a car works, but alas that did not get your crappy sedan to start. The two of us trying to fix a car is about as ridiculous as it gets. After our third jump attempt we gave up and I said I’d drive you home and we would get Derek to help us fix it tomorrow. You agreed and got in the passenger seat. There was crap everywhere, there always was. You always hated that. 

“How do you have like eight outfits just in the car?” You asked, tossing a dress into the back seat. 

“I have to always be prepared,” I said back, stifling a laugh. 

“Oh? And what does this prepare you for?” You asked me, holding up a tank that would barely cover my chest. 

I grabbed it from you and blushed. I was so embarrassed I didn’t know what to say. 

“I’m kidding Y/N,” You said and we both laughed. It felt so right. So comfortable. 

You had on a very Spencer Reid outfit that day. Purple dress shirt, dark blue cardigan, purple and blue tie. You’re striking. Derek doesn’t lie when he calls you ‘Pretty boy’.

But anyways, before I fall back in love with you just by descriptions—“

He had to put the paper down then. It hurt. Every word hurt. You’d fallen out of love with him? You said the last rule was he had to remember that you loved him. You did love him, you just weren’t in love with him anymore. There is very big difference. He thought he may throw up again but he took a few deep breaths, the same way you taught him to when he’d get overwhelmed, and kept going. 

“We were sitting there and I started driving and I turned the radio up. You made that face, you always do when I put on top hits. 

“Sorry I don’t have a lot of Beethoven,” I joked at a red light. You looked over at me, and we made eye contact, which caused my breath to catch in my throat. 

“It’s alright,” You cleared your throat, “I know every word to every song I’ve ever heard, so I can follow along.”

“Okay, what’s this one?” I challenged, turning up the radio. 

“Rolling in the Deep, Adele” 

We played that game for a while. You guessing songs and me laughing. You got every single one right. 

“Oh! I need to turn this one up! I love this song!” I said. It was the very beginning of Stacy’s Mom. 

“Sing with me, Genius.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not singing! I-I can’t sing!”

“Too late, it’s starting.”

“As long as you promise to sing with me.”

We had our first pinky promise then. Your pinky was so long and large, mine so tiny. 

“Did your mom get back from her business trip?” I started and you added the “business trip” in the background. 

“Is she there or is she tryna give me the sli-i-i-i-ip? Give me the slip?”

You took over then, I think the line resonated with you, “You know, I'm not the little boy that I used to be. I'm all grown up now baby, can't you see?”

Then we took the chorus and the rest of the song together, jamming out like teenagers. My heart swelled. You singing, so relaxed with me, just made me so happy. You were comfortable with me. And your singing voice is pretty good too Spen, maybe if you hadn’t been groomed for the FBI you would’ve made a good singer. 

“I know it might be wrong but I'm in love with Stacy's mom.”

We finished the song together, practically yelling, and when we looked up we both realized I missed the exit for your place. I made a u-turn and dropped you off, vehemently apologizing for messing up. Directions were always your thing, not mine. You smiled and said thank you, and even pulled me in for a hug. When we came out of the hug, we made eye contact. The steamy kind like in movies before the two main characters make out. I almost leaned in to kiss you, but I pulled back and left. You waved to me from the door.  

The whole ride home I was freaking out. My heart was going insane. That’s the day I fell in love with you, Spencer Reid. I was teetering on the edge already, but sitting in my car with you, scream-singing Stacy’s Mom, that’s when I fell into the water. So put the CD in a player, turn it on, and listen to Stacy’s Mom. Every time I hear that song I will think of you, sometimes I even play it on purpose just to remember that day. To remember how complete I felt. Remember the electricity and tension. Remember how that’s the day you fell in love with me too. When the 3 minutes and 18 seconds of the song are done, go to envelope 2.” 

Spencer put the paper down and shakily tore off the plastic. You were right, that was when he told you he fell in love with you, but really he had been in love with you a long time before then. He had fallen for you almost immediately after you joined the unit, but he didn’t say anything. He told you he fell in love with you the same moment you fell in love with him because that would be perfect. And you deserve perfect. 

Spencer remembers a different day as the one when he fell in love with you. It was the first day you were introduced to everyone and Rossi raved about all your skills to the team. You dressed to impress that day, and impress you had. Not just your beauty, but your brain. That’s what he really fell in love with first. But that was almost five years ago. When his hair was too long and shaggy; a homeless poet was what he liked to call himself. 

When the song ended, he started it over. 

“She’s all I want and I’ve waited for so long,” Was another line he yelled extra loud, but you hadn’t written about it. He belted that one out because that was how he felt about you. How he still feels about you. He suddenly felt so claustrophobic, ripping off his tie and opening the top few buttons of his shirt. He paced around the room, the song still playing in the background. ‘How did this happen?’ He asked himself again. He lived it with you and still didn’t know quite how this happened. Knowing the answer was hidden in those pages, he got himself together enough to open up envelope 2.

PART 3!

[oz-corp-uplink-t]

Good evening. I figured it would be a good idea to describe our area in detail, both the one we're in now and the one from whence we came. This will be in chronological order, from first discovered to most recently discovered. I hope you all don't mind the formality. This is simply how I normally converse, and I do not see any reason to be any more or less formal than normal.

--Homeworld: GemsGoldia--

Our Homeworld was a unique one, compared to the more Earthly planets of most other universes. It was an entire planet made of crystals and gems, and the general climate of an area depended on the gemstone that comprised the most of an area. Green Emerald areas were usually perfectly warm, red Ruby areas were much hotter and had a tendency to contain magma geysers, blue Sapphire areas were more or less frozen wastes, and a few other, more unnatural climates, such as constant lighting storms over yellow variants of gemstones, and complete and utter darkness in Obsidian areas.

When I first appeared here, I was the only one. I saw the Creator soon after, and he told me what I should do. The Creator's form in our worlds is quite odd, actually. He's two hands and a head, and he tends to change size often, though he's always bigger than me. His hands have white gloves, and I'm certain I've seen they are connected to his head by fishing line or puppet strings. His head is just a black sphere with extremely triangular teeth and large, red eyes. It's more intimidating than it sounds.

Anyway, the factory/research lab we started with was already built when I showed up, along with quite a few houses, all made of the Emerald the ground was made of, and there were exactly enough for those that would appear soon after. There was an unfathomably gigantic generator in a basement within the factory, which I was told created an artificial atmosphere around the entire planet. Evidently, this was true, as it was destroyed in the destruction of the planet, and we have recorded several corpses of beings that need an atmosphere to survive.

--A strange new land: Mirrold--

I had escaped the destruction of GemsGoldia, and I had to find my way back alone. I went through several places, most of which seemed familiar and sparked... Memories, of past versions of myself. My first iteration looked similar to the creator, but I had a pale skin tone, my eyes were humanoid, my hair was green, and I had some nasty claws. I was a throwaway, used to add plot to a normal 'roleplay' (Which, as he told me, simply describes writing a story with more than one person, which I find to be an interesting concept) between good friends. I was to stop a wedding by killing the bride or groom, the bride being an original creation, from his friend, and the groom being another one of those... Skeleton characters. I think they called them Blueberry. I mortally wounded them, and was destroyed in revenge.

My next iteration was similar to the 000 model. I can't remember what I did as them, but I do remember that the Creator and his friend made fictional children for fictional versions of themselves. Apparently, this was my longest running form.

Then, we're at what I am now. A product of His creativity, depression from a long-passed break-up, of which he has told me was his own doing, and fantasies of escaping His world, and coming to ours. His mental state has left our world in ruin, and it seems like he may want this one to have a similar fate...

...Oh, right. I need to be talking about Mirrold. Forgive me, I tend to get far off-topic if I think about our home...

Mirrold is a mirror world, which I found in an apparently magical mirror in the ruins of GemsGoldia, which acted as a portal to here. This place consists of four islands and a deep pit under them, which we call Lower Mirrold.

--The glass shatters: Shatternia--

Shatternia is the only entrance to Mirrold that we know of. After you enter the mirror, you come out onto a catwalk suspended above Lower Mirrold, which looks like pitch blackness. This catwalk ends at a concrete building, where the Brokem, Ozwald, and Cordial base models reside. This is at the southernmost area of the island. To the west of this, there is a thick forest with various weak monsters within. The foliage on this island is always colored in a mix of reds and blues instead of the normal green you'd expect. To the north of the building, there is a toxic lake, and a bridge leading to a canyon with a large gate at the end, leading to the only town in the area, Shardini. If you go east from the building, there is a tram station, which connects to the next island over, and allows for transport between them. North of this is a mansion under constant snowfall, which is reminiscent of the home the Creator had imagined being in when with their friend. The Creator put a copy of his past self, specifically from the period of major depression over his relationship, in Mirrold, and they occasionally show up at this mansion and cry to themselves. They are hostile to any trespassers, but reminders of this failed relationship will stop them in their tracks.

I do recall, now that I think of it, there was another skeleton who became partially Corrupt, but never fully turned, and who lived with the models in the concrete building. Actually, they may have been an alternate version of Blueberry. I think the models that live there called them "Grape".

--A major downgrade: Junkedville--

It's much larger than Shatternia, but it's mostly empty desert. There is an exception: Salvagius. This is the one town in Junkedville, near the northern edge. Our factory rests at the northernmost point, and the rest of the place is houses and establishments made of sheet metal. The pub here is highly popular, mainly because it's impossible to die from overdrinking, as they add special ingredients that prevent death or impairments from extreme amounts, without lessening the actual enjoyment of it, including the drunkenness. This isn't completely effective, unfortunately, as you can tell from my entire workforce being in alchohol comas.

I did say that Shatternia was the only entrance, but that isn't completely true. In the factory, we are very capable of transporting people using the multiversal portals we have. We also considered opening them up to other creations for this uplink, but we aren't sure if it matters much anyway.

--Eternal war: Magicant--

Magicant is a small place, and there's not much left by now. Mages populated this place quite heavily before the Corruption followed us here. They have allied with us for the destruction of the Corruption, but they have blown half their island out of the sky trying to fight. There isn't much left to speak of...

--Mixed up anomaly: Lower Mirrold--

Lower Mirrold is... Difficult to understand. It's split into five sectors. These five sectors change randomly into portions of different worlds, bringing buildings, landscapes, and people with them into our own. This has caused many visitors to suddenly show up without intending to, and many strange scenarios where multiple characters and worlds combine in strange ways, causing strange situations. One we have documented in particular is still in progress, and the events until now are as follows.

1: Subject A ( Short/overweight/male, generally known as a thief, wears yellow and purple clothes, a cap with his first initial on it, and cyan eyeliner) receives a message from Subject B (Literally a fucking sponge) that proposes an exchange for taking B's job for a day in exchange for a stockpile of treasure. Subject A accepts, drives into ocean and finds Subject B's workplace.

It should be noted these two should not have known each other at all.

2: Subject A falls asleep on the job, establishment burns down. Subject A flees and finds stockpile. Subject B fires a nuclear bomb at his neighbor to threaten the arsonist who burned down the establishment. Subject A is transported to an unknown location for approximately 7 hours, before Lower Mirrold shifts again and any further events cease.

We have reason to believe whatever's been happening here is still happening now, but we have been too occupied with everything else we can't be certain.

--Core of Corruption: Corrupti--

Not much is known of Corrupti, other than Sally currently resides there and controls the Corrupted from it's core. It rose from Lower Mirrold some time after the event above had ceased. We don't know what to do about it, all we know is that it's ruining everything we worked so hard to achieve, and that we must end it... But we do not know how.

------------------------------------------------------------

A few closing statements...

Firstly, I have been informed the Creator has documented the Lower Mirrold events mentioned above. I haven't been told where, though. Just that it's "On my tube", or something. If you happen to figure something out there, that would be helpful.

Second, I'm not completely certain the Creator has fully gotten over what happened with his relationship. I don't know if that's why he seems to be reluctant to help us, but either way I'm sure he'll figure himself out sooner or later. I hope, anyway.

Good night to you all. I hope you haven't forgotten us.

Oh, and to those of you in bad times, (lookingatyourox) just know your pain doesn't last forever, and all wounds can be healed with help and time. Also, do not try to end your pain early. It will only spreas your pain to others, and, if there is a place after life, give you a worse pain in your ghost.

...Sorry, if I'm being a bit too grim here. I'm in quite a grim mood, unfortunately. I think the Creator is, too.

[imissthembutitwasntadisaster]

OUAT playlist commentary

For @magpie-trove. To be honest, in large part this is more about Emma than any of the other characters.  It’s basically her arc, but there are bits and pieces of other characters popped in.

Playlist here 

1. White Horse.  The first four songs are essentially a prologue.  So, Emma’s not doing great before she meets Neal when it comes to, you know, The Law, but it’s his leaving that makes her the cynic who doesn’t believe in love that we meet at the beginning, and destroys her belief in the truth of fairytales.  So “I’m not a princess, this ain’t a fairytale” is very apt for the heartbreak that starts her down the road that must be corrected in Storybrooke. 

2. Twin Skeletons.  In large part this was for The Vibes.  It’s about a relationship slipping away, and “I don't want to remember it all, the promises I made if you just hold on,” feels very much like the desperation and breakage that Emma faced from Neal, but the verses also show the aggression that is actually quite deep in her. 

3. Time Machine.  This isn’t deep, this is just her wishing she never met Neal, and also it’s a bop. 

4.  Back to December.  This is actually more from Neal’s pov.  I’m sorry or that night! I go back to December all the time!  It’s like the imaginary conversation he might have had. 

5. Serenity.  I ADORE the music for this film, but this is just such a hopeful track, and here it’s marking the end of the prologue and the start of the show itself, with Henry ariving. 

6.  Rose-Coloured Boy.  “Cause I just killed off what was left of the optimist in me.”  This is Emma and Henry, how they start.  She wishes she could be rose-coloured like him, but she can’t, she’s too much of a cynic. 

7.  The Only Exception.  One of the sweetest love songs, also about Emma and Henry.  Her healing towards love really does start with him!  No wonder true love’s kiss is her kissing him! He is the only exception to her cynicism and we love to see it. 

8.  Mean.  This is Regina being introduced. 

9.  Nobody.  This is, besides being A BOP, both a song for Regina and for Emma, this refusal to be told what to do.  A battle anthem for season 1. 

10. Ready to Question.  This is in large part for the Fun Adultery Subplot! (and by fun I mean weird and not fun).  “I don’t know what to believe.”  “I’m ready to question that life is a blessing.”  It’s all so full of pain, and it’s hard to believe there’s joy in anything, and this is also for Emma after the death of Graham. 

11. Someone to you.  After Graham, I would argue is when Emma really really starts fighting.  This is in many ways one of Her songs, underneath it all she just wants to mean something to someone, to the town, to Snow, and especially here, to Henry. 

12.  Echoes of You.  This is one of my favourite songs ever, but also I feel it fits for Emma’s past haunting her.  She is plagued by who she was and as such by who she thinks she is, and that flickers up enough that I put that in.

13.  Could Have Been Me.  A hero song.  The hero song.  Don’t wanna live as an untold story.  Season 1 finale peak. 

14.  Back in my Body.  Emma does face a lot of difficulties in the next seasons in deciding still where she belongs, but her path is never as unclear after season 1 as it was.  “this time I know I’m fighting, this time I know I’m back in my body.”  It’s a certainty that even if there is uncertainty, she knows that she’s still willing to fight in a way she wasn’t necessarily before.  It’s about FAITH. 

15.  Forbidden Friendship.  When I was little, I listened to the HTTYD soundtrack CONSTANTLY, I had it on a cd and I just had it on repeat.  Massive nostalgia.  This track especially is so beautiful and warm, and I felt appropriate to the segue into the next section. 

From this point on, it’s less chronological, and more grouped in relationships, with a little bit of a timeline.  I’ll probably add more now that I’ve started watching again, but probably not hugely given the change in type of section. 

16.  Saturn.  Saturn is about Emma and Snow and Charming.  It’s a family song, and it’s here to represent how they did begin to make their way back together as a family, and how Snow and Charming did begin to teach Emma how becautiful it is to even exist. 

17.  Dog Days are Over.  Happiness? Hit her? Like a bullet in the back?  She hid under corners and she hid under beds, she killed it with kisses and from it she fled? Emma is very much aggressively dragged into being loved and happiness. 

18.  Voldemort.  Voldemort is about asking for help, and trusting people to provide it.  We see near the beginning of season 2 that Emma still isn’t willing to give that (especially Tallahassee), but she does slowly come to trust other people, especially her family.  This is in large part the family section, so thats here, closely followed by

19. Stone.  A similar idea, about asking for help, asking to be supported.  Asking for a stone to stand on in the face of currents. 

20. She Will Be Loved.  And this is the response to the questions, this is Charming and Snow and all the people of Storybrooke giving Emma the love that she needs. 

21.  Dear Wormwood.  This doesn’t really fit in the Emma’s Family section, but it’s here for Regina anyway.  Her redeption arc starts in earnest in season 2, and she gets to be the hero in the finale and begins to face what her mother did to her, and for all that she gets the best redemption song.  “I want to be more than this devil inside of me.”  I just love her so much sometimes. 

22.  He’s a Pirate.  The final section! The Hook section! I also had the potc sountrack on disk, also listened to that on repeat.  The sound of my childhood, but an excellent introduction.  Here we backtrack a little to when Emma first meets Hook. 

23.  GOLD RUSH GOLD RUSH GOLD RUSH.  Their first meeting song.  I don’t like a gold rush.  Sinking ships on water I almost jump in.  It’s just perfect for Reasons. 

24.  The Reckless and the Brave.  Now we jump to the Neverland arc.  Another hero song for all our heroes. 

25.  End of an Era.  I love end of an era for so many reasons, it’s such an incredible song.  It’s about the ending of a relationship, and so here in many ways it’s in letting go of Neal after he died, but it’s also about Emma letting go of every part of the past, of the fact she still thinks of herself of the Lost Girl, of the lack of hope that still lingers somewhere in her.  Also, what you don’t know is that on the album, the first song has the line “Hope fades away in Astoria,” and this song has “hope’s fading into Astoria” which guts me every time.  It’s about moving forward.  It’s also about moving forward for Regina, and how the townspeople begin to move past her being evil.

26.  Roll Away Your Stone.  The other Redemption song, about Regina, about Hook, about Rumple.  They all have newly impassioned souls and I love them for it. 

27.  Love Will Come and Find me Again.  Emma really doesn’t consider Hook as a proper option until after Neal dies, and this is her movement towards that. 

28.  Cruel Summer.  Look early Emma and Hook just have Cruel Summer vibes.  “I’m not dying,” they refuse to admit really that it’s particularly serious, when it is!

29.  She Loves Me.  This is such a Hook song that it kills me, I have nothing clever to say about it, just listen because it’s perfect. 

30.  This Love.  THESE HANDS HAD TO LET IT GO FREE AND THIS LOVE CAME BACK TO ME.  Also ALL THE WATER METAPHORS.  THE Hook/Emma song.  When you’re young you just run! But you come back to what you need! They keep letting each other go and then coming back!

31.  Last Hope.  A quick reminder that plot is actually happening, tragically, and that it’s not all about the cute love story.  Terrible things keep happening, but ultimately “the salt in my wounds isn't burning any more than it used to.  It's not that I don't feel the pain, it's just I'm not afraid of hurting anymore.  And the blood in these veins isn't pumping any less than it ever has and that's the hope I have, the only thing I know that's keeping me alive, alive.”  There is always hope. 

32.  All I’ve Ever Known.  Oh they could have played this over the Emma and Hook kiss at the end of season 3 and I’d have been happy.  Very Cowboy Like Me vibes (which I should probably also put on here somewhere, I just already have A LOT of love songs).  Now I wanna hold you! the certainty of it all, the rejection of solitude. 

33.  Willow.  Life was a willow! And it bent right to your wind! I’m like the water when your ship blew in that night! (also, rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife is such a description of Emma).  Just, the perfect song for them.  As is

34.  King of my Heart.  I’m sorry, most of these are just love songs now because I love them.  I’m perfectly fine, I live on my own, I made up my mind I’m better off being alone! BUT we met a few weeks ago! Is this the end of all the endings??? My broken bones are mending??? I have nothing coherent to say, just joy. 

35.  Carry On.  Again, a reminder of actual plot.  Similar to Last Hope, so much of this show is about enduring, how if you carry on there will be light.  Do good, continue to do good, and eventually there will be good.  Iconic, amazing. 

36.  I’m Yours.  One of the best “how dare you make me fall in love with you” songs.   “Some nerve you have to break up my lonely and tell me you want me, how dare you march into my heart, oh how rude of you.”  I feel it fits Emma well. 

37.  After the Storm.  For the ending of it all.  Such a sweet and gentle song about kindness coming, and calm, and such an emotional song as well. 

38.  Thus Always to Tyrants.  This is about Regina again, how she ends happily, how she does greet the daylight looming, learn to love without comsuming. 

39. Long Story Short.  I dropped my sword, threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door! Honestly, the imagery of this song is perfect for Emma entierly as a whole.  Which leads ultimately into

40.  Long Live.  HER SONG.  THEIR SONG.  THE SONG.  I HAD THE TIME OF MY LIFE FIGHTING DRAGONS WITH YOU!!!!!!

And that’s the end.  I had no idea I had exactly 40, that’s pretty cool.  So yeah, more may well come, especially surrounding other people’s arcs, but right now that’s what there is and why!                                    

[wonjaekook]

100 Ways We Said “I Love You” (The First 26)

100 follower special w/Jaemin for @insomni-writing​ !

A/N: I hit 100 followers a while ago but Somni came up with a great idea for me to celebrate! The numbers are NOT in chronological order, so I hope it’s not too confusing. There’s potential for more parts of this in the future ^^

Description: You reminisce on some of your most memorable moments with Jaemin.

Word Count: 13.5k

Genre: fluff!! there’s a touch of angst, but it’s mostly fluff

Warnings: there might be a handful of swears?, alcohol at some point

One.

Na Jaemin has one mouth and he certainly uses it as much as he can. The only thing you know about Na Jaemin is he’s loud and you’re not sure you like him. On the contrary, everyone else in your class seems to be obsessed with him, as can be easily observed by the hoards of confessions he’s getting today. You would think that behavior would go away when you got to college, but apparently not.

Today is White Day and you are not in the holiday spirit.

Every break that your class has, the room explodes with noise as girls who, one after the other, are giving him so many chocolates that he barely has room to write on his desk anymore. Jaemin’s responses of, “you’re cute, but…” and “I’m sorry, you’re lovely, but…” to every girl that approaches him fill the space of the classroom while you’re at your own desk trying to study. Unluckily for you, Jaemin sits right in front of you and your best friend, Hyunjin, sits on the opposite side of the room. She shoots you a pitying look when she sees the irritated look on your face and you shrug. It only takes one more minute listening to the chattering of the girls gathered around the desk in front of you before you’re grabbing your textbook and walking out of the classroom.

In the hallway, things are nice and peaceful for a little while when you plop down on the floor and open your textbook. The sounds in the classroom are muffled by the door and walls and you find yourself focusing much better. That is, until a boy from the classroom next door stops in front of you. “What are you doing out here?”

“I’m studying.” You answer shortly. You know this boy well - mostly because he won’t leave you alone. Not in the cute way, no. In the mean way.

“Don’t wanna be in the classroom because everyone is getting together and you’re alone?” He looms over you, his arms crossed over his chest.

You purse your lips together at that. “I don’t want a boyfriend, Jiwoon.”

“It’s not like you could get one anyways, even if you-”

“Hey, cut it out.” Jiwoon is interrupted when, to your surprise, another voice cuts into the conversation. In your distraction, you hadn’t noticed that Na Jaemin had left the classroom and is now standing a few feet away, giving Jiwoon a look. Jaemin starts to speak again before either of you can say anything. “If you like her, just say so. There’s no need to be an ass.”

Jiwoon turns three shades of red before he finally stutters out, “I don’t like her!” and shuffles quickly away to his own classroom.

“He doesn’t like me. He’s always just been a jerk for no reason,” you say, feeling the need to clarify to Jaemin. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair before he looks at you.

“He’s just doing that thing guys do. The one where they’re mean to the girl they like because they think that’s how they’ll get your attention.”

Your lips part in an expression of surprise before you let out a little, “Oh.”

“You’re welcome, by the way.” He breaks into a cocky smirk and your expression changes into one of irritation. “You owe me one, now.”

“Owe you what? I don’t owe you anything!” You try to insist, but he’s already walking further down the hall and it’s not long before he’s out of sight.

Two.

Na Jaemin won’t stop staring at you.

Since Jaemin technically helped you out in the hall on White Day, you supposed you owed him something. He called in his favor about three weeks ago, when he practically begged you to tutor him in physics. Usually, tutoring meant studying with him and helping him whenever he had trouble, but, today, he’s just been staring at you for most of the time.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say, trying to shield your face from his view with your hand. He hums in response to your request, looking back at his textbook. A moment later, you can feel him staring at you again, so you sigh heavily and turn to him fully, your head resting on your arm.

“Jaemin, if you have an issue with me, please just say it.” This time, he doesn’t even pretend to look away from you, keeping intense eye contact instead. The eye contact lasts long enough that you feel slightly uncomfortable, but you refuse to back down. He blinks a slow, long blink that, for some reason, has you feeling shy and makes your cheeks warm up. His long eyelashes cast shadows on his cheekbones in the somewhat dim light of the library and his dark brown hair sweeps quite nicely over his forehead, parted just off from the middle. You refused to let yourself acknowledge it before, but Na Jaemin is, in fact, quite attractive. Finally, you feel like you have to say something again. “Why are you looking at me like I’ve grown a third eye?” You mutter, shying under his gaze. If he’s not searching your soul, it certainly feels like it.

“I’m not…” His words are somewhat mumbled as he continues to stare you in the eyes, “but you do have two eyes and they are very pretty.”

When those words leave his lips, your jaw practically drops and you can feel your face changing from warm to blazing hot. “I, you, ah-” you stutter, trying to find something to say, but grasping nothing.

His lips spread into a wide, bright smile that shows all of his teeth. “Do you want to get coffee with me after this?”

“Ask me again after you’ve finished the physics homework,” you mumble, practically burying your face in your own book, “and only if you don’t make me try that hell concoction you call a drink.”

You suppose that, somewhere along the last few weeks, you might have fallen for him.

Three.

Na Jaemin considers himself a photographer and, even you, a cynic among cynics, can’t help but agree that he does take some nice pictures sometimes. Then again, sometimes he chooses to take the absolute ugliest pictures of you, saving them as his phone background and not letting you change it. But, since he considers himself a photographer, he demands you take pictures with him anyways. There are a few in particular that come to mind.

“Wait, there!” Jaemin says, hand clasped in yours. You would call this your official first date, though you had been alone with him many times before. You’re still reeling from when he had actually told you he likes you about ten minutes ago, but he quickly guided you along, saying something about ‘golden hour.’ Now, Jaemin is pulling you towards a glass balcony that’s open to the spring air. The glass bends the orange-red light of the setting sun and almost makes the two of you glow just standing there. There’s a few other people milling about on this floor of the building, so Jaemin quickly taps one of them on the shoulder, giving them that charming smile of his and asking if they can take your picture on the balcony.

Just as the person reaches three in the countdown, he leans down, pressing his lips to your cheek. Your own expression changes just in time for the camera to catch it. “Jaemin!” You say, hitting him lightly on the arm. “You can’t just do those things out of nowhere!”

“You liked it though, didn’t you?” He collects his phone from the stranger and thanks them before turning around, catching the embarrassment clear on your face. He taps on the photo, showing you the picture. Both of you are bathed in the light of the setting sun, glowing golden halos of light around your heads, your surprised expression clear on your face, and his eyes closed as he kisses your cheek. “See? So cute.”

You’ve been with Jaemin for just a tad longer than three years now and the sunset pictures he makes you take with him every year, each with a different surprise, have become your favorites.

Four.

Na Jaemin considers himself to be quite the romantic. Most of the time, you would agree. He’s a rose petals in the bathtub, candles at dinner, slow jazz in the background kind of guy. You try not to let his efforts go unnoticed, as any loving girlfriend would, though you can’t say you’re nearly as smooth about romantic things as he is. However, for all his sensibilities, sometimes he has strange timing.

On the train, enroute to Busan, where you plan to spend the weekend with him, he has your hand firmly in his. Whenever you try to let go of it, he squeezes your hand tighter, so you accepted his grip a while ago. A little while ago, he had offered you an airpod, so you’re casually listening to his music and leaning against his shoulder as the train continues on its track. Idly, you thumb at the rings he’s wearing. One, two, on this hand and… another two on the other hand. Four rings in total. “Jaemin,” you say, breaking the easy silence between the two of you, “where did you get your rings?”

“Hm?” He focuses on you and processes your question a second later. “Oh. This one, I got from my mom, this one is from Jeno, this one is for UNICEF, and this one is just cool looking.” One by one, he taps the rings, still holding onto your hand. “Why? Do you want me to take them off? Is it uncomfortable?”

You shake your head. “No, you’re good. I was just wondering.”

“Do you like them?” Not knowing where he’s going, but knowing he’s scheming something by the tone of his voice, you carefully nod. “Well, I’ll get you a ring one day. It’ll be a lot fancier than these, though.”

It takes you a moment to really understand what he’s implying, but then your cheeks are heating up - not an unusual occurrence with Jaemin - and you’re burying your face in his shoulder. “Jaemin,” you whine, your voice muffled by his shirt, “you can’t just say things like that.”

“I can if it’s true.” A weak punch on the arm is all you respond with, his hand still tightly squeezed in yours.

Five.

Na Jaemin is the person you’ve spent more time with than anyone else for the last few weeks. And he still hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend.

Not that you’re expecting him to, or that he has to be the one who asks you. If you were certain that’s what he wants, you would ask him, but… you’re not sure. You don’t think he’s been seeing anyone else, but, by definition, you’re not exclusive. He could be seeing any number of the girls who confessed to him or are constantly chasing after him. You don’t think he actually is, but you’re scared. What if he doesn’t like you as much as you like him?

You’ve gone on four different “official” dates with him and tonight is date number five. When he shows up in front of your apartment, all smiles, you almost immediately forget all of your worries about your situation, content with just taking his hand when he offers it to you. The little hole-in-the-wall restaurant he takes you to is perfect, a pretty, small place with low lighting that smells vaguely of roses, and everything about the date is perfect. Until the waiter comes back for the second time.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” He says, directing his attention to Jaemin and then, a beat later, to you. “Or maybe for the girlfriend?”

Before your expression can even shift into one of awkwardness, Jaemin is smiling gently and shaking his head. “That’s okay, but thank you.” Confusion is clearly on your face when the waiter says he’ll be right back with your check and walks away, prompting Jaemin to look back at you. He quirks an eyebrow at you. “What? Did you want something else?”

“I… You…” You look back and forth between Jaemin and the direction the waiter disappeared off in. How are you supposed to explain…?

“Oh, you don’t like being called my girlfriend?” Jaemin tilts his head, the picture of obliviousness. At the back of your mind, some part of you knows he’s just messing with you, but you ignore that side of your brain.

“No, I like it!” Your mouth moves faster than your brain does for once and, almost instantly, you feel like your cheeks are on fire. Pursing your lips, you look away from him, practically burning up in your seat.

“Aha! That’s what I was waiting for!” As he says that, the waiter returns with your check, preventing him from explaining himself. He takes the check and gets up, practically waltzing to your side of the table and reaching for your hand, which you take without much question. Impatiently, you shift from foot to foot while he pays up front until, finally, the two of you leave the restaurant.

“Na Jaemin,” you say sternly, stopping him from continuing to walk, “you had better explain yourself!”

Pretending to be innocent again, he smiles. “Explain? That you want to be my girlfriend?”

Instead of shying away this time, you decide that you’re going to double down. You’re about two seconds away from ditching him if he doesn’t start making sense. “I do, but-!”

“Great! Then, Y/N, do you want to be my girlfriend? Be honest, now.” Jaemin’s tone is teasing, which it feels like is his near constant state anyways, but now you’re blushing.

Part of you wants to be difficult with him just for the sake of it, but the softer, more resigned side of you wins out. Your exasperation fades and you sigh softly. “Yes. I want to be your girlfriend.”

“Now, that wasn’t hard, was it?” Indignant again, you don’t respond, eyes fixed on the ground. “That makes me your boyfriend, then. I don’t know about you, but that makes me really happy.” At that, you look up at him. Though there’s a hint of humor on his face, the smile that reaches all the way to his eyes is real. Knowing that you’re too embarrassed to respond but that you feel the exact same way, he simply squeezes your hand and pulls you along.

Six.

Na Jaemin always says good morning to you. From early on in your relationship, he always made sure to text you when he wasn’t staying over. Though you prefer to wake up to an arm slung over you and his messy morning hair, a text from him is almost as nice. Whenever you’re away from each other for too long, he calls you incessantly and, when you hadn’t minded the silence before, his slightly staticy voice over the phone fills the empty space in your life nicely. Even just hearing the telltale buzz before your phone lights up with his contact name - he never lets you change it away from “My Handsome Jaemin” with a sun emoji next to it, which he set on your phone himself - you always feel a small prick of joy.

Well, most of the time. The buzz of your phone going off is enough to wake you up today and not even the cute “good morning, love” accompanied with all varieties of heart emojis from Jaemin is enough to forgive him for waking you up at this godforsaken hour.

Y/N: Na Jaemin. It is 6 in the morning.

My Handsome Jaemin: it’s a new day!

Y/N: Why are you texting me at this time.

JM: i’m volunteering soon and i’m not allowed to be on my phone until after it’s over, but i didn’t want to miss saying good morning :( sorry for waking you up

Y/N: oh my god jaems i’m so sorry

Y/N: ily, have a good time at your volunteering

Y/N: and good morning to you too ♡

JM: ♡♡♡

JM: go back to sleep, i’ll be done by the time you’re awake ♡

You suppose you can forgive him.

 Seven.

Na Jaemin has somehow wormed himself into nearly every aspect of your life. Before him, you didn’t think it was possible to be so close to a single person. Now, he’s in your head at least once a day, all seven days of the week. Rent free, spending time in your thoughts. You wouldn’t charge him for taking up that space even if you could.

Eight.

Na Jaemin didn’t wait nearly as long to ask if he could kiss you as he waited to ask you to be his girlfriend. This time, there’s no games, no teasing, just him at two o’clock in the morning in front of your dorm.

The two of you were lucky enough that the weather cooperated with your plans for a picnic by the Han River and, soon enough, time got lost. To get him to go back to campus, you have to pull him along by his hand, his reluctance clear in the way he tugs back to try to get you to stay. Much too quickly, you return, standing on the pavement outside of your dorm building with your hand in his, neither of you really making a move to go inside anymore. Hesitantly, you smile at him. “I had a nice time today. As usual.”

“As usual?” He tilts his head, sending you a smile of his own in return. The way the music of his low voice floats to your ears in the still, peaceful night prevents you from letting go of his hands.

“Believe it or not, I enjoy spending time with my boyfriend.” He grins extra brightly at that, pulling you into his arms for a tight hug so you can’t see what is practically sunlight radiating from his face in the dead of night. If he had pulled you in like that a few weeks ago, you would have been stiff and awkward but, now, you quickly melt into his embrace, your own arms wrapping around him. Reluctantly, both of you pull away and look at each other again. The air still has that lovely, magical feeling to it that makes you forget that time exists, but somewhere in the back of your head, you know that it’s about two in the morning and you should both go to sleep. Somehow, you also feel as though there are unsaid words hanging in the air between you and you can’t leave until one of you says them.

“Can I kiss you?”

It clicks in your head that those were the words you had been waiting for. Naturally, you’re smiling again, a smaller smile this time in preparation for what you want to happen, hiding how truly ecstatic you feel. “I really want you to.”

That first kiss lasts for eight seconds. It’s eight seconds of feeling more right and content and happy than you ever have in your life so, when he pulls away, you pull him back to you a quick heartbeat later, your arms rising up to sling over his neck. You don’t think you’ll ever forget the way he laughs into that second kiss and returns it.

Nine.

Na Jaemin asked you to move in with him. It’s been a bit over two years now, so it was only the next natural step to both of you. One sunny Saturday afternoon, he told you about this wonderful - and affordable - apartment a short walk from campus and proposed living together. You accepted. It’s not like the two of you hadn’t talked about it before. It’s very familiar ground and you were excited that your discussions were finally producing some fruit. When you went to check out the apartment with Jaemin, you were more than pleased with how good his taste was. It’s a corner apartment, meaning lots of natural light and a bit more space than usual. 

Signing the lease was easy enough. Moving in was not, especially with Jaemin getting distracted every few minutes by one thing or another. Every so often, he calls to you from another room, his voice reaching you easily in the relatively small space. “Y/N!”

Tilting your head back to look at him as he emerges from the other room, you give him a look, not backing away from the box you were unpacking things from. “What is it now, Jaemin?”

“Do you know how many windows this apartment has?”

The question is odd enough, so you shrug in response. “No, but I have a feeling you do.”

“Nine! We have nine windows.” He’s far more excited about the topic than you are and your confusion is clear on your face.

“What’s special about having nine windows?”

“I don’t know. But we have nine windows and I just think there’s something great about that number.” The incidental sweetness of his statement has your mood instantly lifting, your face brightening and relaxing when he explains. He circles you, latching onto you and hugging you from behind. His broad chest against your back is a welcome distraction this time, so you lean back into him slightly.

“You’re very strange, but I think you’re right, Jaemin.”

Ten.

Na Jaemin makes every experience an adventure. Somehow, today he had talked you into climbing a tree and, while he had descended flawlessly, you’re stuck. After all, getting up into the tree is always harder and less scary than getting down.

“Jaemin! I can’t get down…” You’re embarrassed to admit it, but you need help.

“Just jump! I’ll catch you!” You blanch at that.

“No way! I know you’ve been working out recently, but I am not jumping from here!” Truth be told, you’re only about ten feet off of the ground, but it’s ten whole feet of terror that makes the ground feel much farther away than it actually is.

“Do you want to come down or not? Just jump!” Even with Jaemin’s goading, him standing below you is not looking any more safe. What if you break your leg? Or your arm? Or your spine?

“You know what, I think I’m okay up here! I’ll live among the squirrels from now on.” You shift on the branch and it bends slightly under your weight, causing you to let out a brief shriek of fear and cling tighter to the branch. When you look down again, Jaemin’s face is far more concerned and serious than it was before.

“Y/N, you don’t have to be afraid. I promise I’ll catch you. I have one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten whole fingers attached to one, two arms to catch you with! You’ll be fine. Trust me.” He opens his arms wide, staring up at you and smiling gently. It’s those words that make your heart open and, suddenly, you feel like everything will be okay. Because you trust him.

“Okay,” you say, mostly to yourself, “okay. Are you ready?”

He nods firmly. “Whenever you are.”

As promised, he catches you in his arms and prevents you from hitting the ground and breaking your arm, leg, spine, or anything in between. After he puts you down, he leans forward, pecking you on the lips before he grins. “See? I told you that you can trust me.”

Eleven.

Na Jaemin is very stubborn sometimes. That being said, so are you.

Someway, somehow the two of you had an argument about washing the dishes. At this point, after a bit more than ten hours of not talking to each other, you’ve forgotten who started the argument. A part of you still wants to insist you’re right, but the deafening silence of your boyfriend in the other room while you’re curled on your shared bed dampens your pride. You glance at your phone, which hadn’t lit up with a notification from him for most of the day now when he would ordinarily be sending you texts filled with heart emojis and sweet words. Sighing, you set your phone upside down, trying not to look at it. A minute later, it buzzes and you quickly reach for it, the screen lighting up in your eyes, only to see that it was just a message from a friend. With that, you throw your phone back on the bed and stand up. Enough is enough. You’re going to stop being stubborn and apologize.

Except, when you open the bedroom door, Jaemin is right in front of it, his hand lifted like he was pre-knock. He lowers his hand slowly, his lips pulling up into an awkward half smile. “What, can’t go eleven hours without seeing me?” The joke falls flat, but you give him a little exhale of laughter anyways.

“No,” you say, your voice low, feeling strange in the long, silent space of the hours between you, “I wanted to apologize.”

“That’s funny, I wanted to do the same thing.” If you took yourself out of the situation, you might have found it funny, but right now all you want is the comfortable feeling between you and Jaemin back. Neither of you speak for a moment, but then your words are coming out at the same, overlapping each other in a strange sort of apologetic verbal embrace.

“I’m sorry I-”

“Y/N, I’m sorry-”

Both of you stop at the same time as well. You stare at each other before another smile, a real one this time, lights up his face again. You return the look.

“It was a stupid argument. I accept your apology.” When he usually initiates, you make the move first this time, opening your arms in a gesture that invites him to hug you. He does, his arms wrapping around you and pressing your face into the crook of his neck. Without words, he tells you that he feels the same.

Twelve.

Na Jaemin always keeps his promises.

Your advanced literature class always gets out at the same time, exactly twelve. Every Wednesday, your lovely boyfriend makes a point to meet you outside of your classroom at exactly noon to meet you for lunch. Early on, he had promised you he would meet you at the same time every week, saying, if you remember correctly, he “wouldn’t miss it for the world.” A bit dramatic for a regular lunch date, but you have always appreciated the sentiment. It’s nice to have a schedule and to be able to see him regularly.

Except, now, it’s 12:15 and your professor is still talking. He keeps droning on about his favorite part of the book your class is currently reading, which also happens to be his favorite book, and, even with you and your classmates shifting awkwardly in your seats and very obviously looking at the clock on the wall next to his desk, he keeps going. Normally, you’d be sitting in the dining hall or nearby cafe with Jaemin right now, but instead you’re just blankly staring at your professor, his words drowned out by your antsiness. Finally, ten minutes later, he returns to his desk and dismisses your class. Everyone instantly shoves their things in their backpacks and, one by one, you all quickly exit. Through the crowd of your classmates, you try to see if Jaemin is at your meeting spot. When you run up to him, apologies spilling from your lips, he presses a finger to your lips.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind waiting for you.” The way his lips curl up into a little smile messes with your heart, causing you to blink rapidly at him.

“You’re not upset…?” You manage to get out.

“I promised you, didn’t it? I know it’s not your fault, anyways.” He reaches for your hand, taking it in his. “Plus, you’re worth waiting for.” He tugs you along, heading towards the cafe you had agreed you would go to today. Even when you’re awestruck by him and he’s pulling you along, he’s still so gentle in both touch and tone of voice. Then, he opens his mouth again and you snap out of it to laugh at him. “Though I wouldn’t mind if you bought my coffee today.”

Thirteen.

Na Jaemin has always been popular. That was one of your first observations about him and it continued to be true, even a few months into your relationship.

This year, his birthday, August 13th, falls on a Saturday. When he said he was throwing a party, you were expecting it to be on the day of his birthday, a loud, wild occasion that would inevitably get the cops called on it. To your surprise, he plans it for the day before, Friday, and you can actually count and keep track of everyone there. You expected to see him only once during the night before he mingled among everyone else, but as he gets more tipsy and edges on drunk, you find that he’s not leaving your side, his arms mostly staying wrapped around your stomach, keeping you pressed to his chest, and his chin rests on your shoulder, his flush cheek pressed to yours. Friday changes to Saturday and everyone sings to him. Cake and more drinks are passed around, the air pleasantly filled with singing and talking and the music that always plays in the background. At around two, you attempt to peel his arms off of you so you can go home, but he just holds onto you tighter, whining about how you promised you would stay the night. Even though you never said anything like that to him and you’re more than embarrassed that he just said that in front of his friends, you just sink back down against him, doing your best to hide your warm face.

It’s only a short while before sunrise that the last of his friends finally leave. You barely manage to convince him to brush his teeth and wash his face before he’s dragging you into his bed with him, his grip around you unrelenting. This certainly isn’t the first time that you’ve slept in his bed with him, but you’re still a bit shy about it. Luckily enough, your shyness is overcome by your exhaustion and you quickly drift off.

You barely manage to convince him to let you get out of bed after the two of you finally wake up in the early afternoon and it’s another miracle that you get him to let you go home to change and get your gift for him. While he was initially planning his celebration, he made you promise to leave your Saturday open for him. You agreed, adding that you would only do it if he let you pay for dinner.

After you return and eat with him, giving him the gift of the new camera lens he had been wanting for months, you stop him before he can drag you back to his bed to watch a movie and cuddle.

“One more thing.” Shyly, you reach into the bag you had brought back from your apartment, pulling out a small chocolate cake, barely larger than your hand, and a single long candle. “I know you just had cake yesterday, but I got this from the bakery next to campus that you like and...”

The happy look on his face lights up your whole world and has you trailing off. With just one look, you can tell exactly how he’s feeling and that everything is okay, that you don’t need to make excuses. You can’t hold eye contact with him for long, your eyes flitting down to investigate the table instead of looking at him. You can feel your face warming and butterflies tickling the inside of your stomach with their wings. It’s an intense but welcome feeling. Quickly, you busy yourself with getting out the small lighter you brought - you came prepared - and sticking the candle in the cake, lighting it. A step forward and the light in the room is off, a step backwards and you’re back in your chair. The room is shrouded in darkness save for the tiny flickering fire casting a yellow-orange glow on your faces.

“Happy birthday, Jaemin.” Your voice barely makes a sound in the small room, but it adds to the warm atmosphere nonetheless. For a moment, he just stares at the candle, deep in thought. You can feel the seconds ticking by slowly, drops of wax sliding down the length of the candle, threatening to fall onto the cake but stopping just short. Then, he looks up at you.

“I’ll only blow it out if you do it with me.” Another one of his strange requests. He must know that you want to refuse him, but the rapidly melting wax of the candle prevents you from giving him the reasons why you shouldn’t do what he asked. He also gives you no time to argue as he leans forward, counting down. “One,” a slow blink, “two,” a small smile when you bend forward slightly as well, “three.” Both of you blow gently, the small flame flickering out.

You rise from your chair again, flicking on the lights. He’s giving you a strange look again, but one that you can still tell is happy. “I feel like I just ruined your birthday wish by doing that,” you laugh quietly, sitting back down.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table and his chin on his palm. “You can’t ruin my wish if you are my wish.” The butterflies and warmth return, not that they ever really left, but you keep looking at him this time. Before you can muster up some sort of response, he adds on another comment much more softly. “And I’m not afraid of losing you by saying that.”

Fourteen.

Na Jaemin always manages to take advantage of every good opportunity that he’s given, even if that means taking you along with him.

“My pretty Y/N,” he practically purrs in your ear, his arms encircling your waist as he hugs you from behind while you're doing work for class, “will you help me with something?”

You can already tell from his tone of voice that he means to cause trouble. You just don’t know if it’s the good kind or the bad kind yet. Laying your pencil down, you turn your head slightly and smile at him. “What are you trying to charm me into doing now?”

“Have you been outside recently?”

“Of course I have. Why…?”

“Take a break and take pictures with the flowers with me.” He’s absentmindedly playing with the hem of your shirt as he speaks. You know he’s persistent and won’t leave you alone unless you go with him. It also wouldn’t hurt to take a couple of pretty pictures. You should really be used to these impromptu photoshoots by now, anyway.

“Only if it doesn’t take that long…” He hears the hesitance in your voice and takes it as a yes, springing up to race to the other side of the room.

“Great! They’re cherry trees, so the flowers won’t last much longer than a few days, and all fourteen of them are in bloom right now!” He returns to you with his camera hanging around his neck.

“You counted the trees outside?” You follow him to the door of your apartment, slipping on some shoes at the same time he does.

“I had to do an ecological survey for my biology class earlier this semester. Just happened to remember.” It’s not a farfetched idea. It’s also very characteristic of him to remember that. As soon as you’re outside, stepping into the sunlight and squinting from how bright it is, you look back at him. He’s making a face, a sort of smirk, and you sigh.

“You’re about to say something embarrassing, I can tell.”

“I’m not! Look,” he says, turning you by the shoulders to face the blooming trees lining the sidewalk, “do you see them?”

Your eyes adjusted a moment before, so you nod slowly. “Mhm…”

“You’re prettier than any of them.” That’s all he says before he pecks on you on the cheek, taking you by the hand and guiding you farther down the row of trees. Even now, you can’t help but blush furiously at his comments. You would ask why he always says things like that, but you know the answer by now. It takes him only a moment to find the ideal tree, where he turns back to you again, observing your face. He grins. “You look even prettier when you’re flustered like that.”

Fifteen.

Na Jaemin, despite how he seems to brush things off most of the time, is more sensitive than he lets on.

One night, Jaemin invited you to go to a party with him. You had been dating him for more than a year, so it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to show up to every other social gathering with the other on their arm. The event is a typical frat party - loud and full of both alcohol and hormones. Jaemin had been invited by his older friend Lucas and you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to go. Except, at the time you agreed, you didn’t have the headache that slowly developed over the day. Still, you go. The music is too loud, the smell of alcohol makes you nauseous, and everyone is so sweaty. One girl even has the audacity to try to drag Jaemin away for a dance. He hadn’t had the same aversions to the environment that you did but, even in his inebriated state after the multiple drinks his friends had put in his hands and he had downed, he has enough sense to push her gently away from him, refusing her advances. She leaves, moping over his rejection, and you let him pull you in to dance clumsily before everything about the party becomes too much. His attempt at getting you to enjoy yourself isn’t missed - you know he’s trying his best - but you simply don’t feel well. With a reluctant smile, you tug him over to a group of his friends that you recognize.

“I’m going to go home. Stay here and have fun with your friends, okay?” He bobs his head up and down in a drunken nod of agreement before leaning down to sloppily kiss you. Normally, you love his kisses in any form, but the smell of alcohol on his breath and the taste of it on his lips has you pulling away from the kiss quickly, patting his cheek as you try to not let your headache break your patience with your intoxicated boyfriend.

Getting out of the party is a relief, the short walk back to your apartment is a relief, and finally lying down in your bed with pajamas and a clean face and mouth is definitely a relief. Sleep comes upon you quickly enough that you forget to text your very sweet and very drunk boyfriend to tell you when he gets home.

Waking up refreshed and headache-free twelve hours later is certainly a feeling you could relish in for a long time. Except, when you check your phone and see the fifteen missed calls and twenty texts from Jaemin on your phone, your relaxation instantly fades. Every message shows his building worry, sent about an hour before you woke up, and vague enough that you don’t know why he’s panicking. As soon as you read the last message, you call him back. He picks up nearly instantly, cutting you off as you try to greet him.

“Jaem-”

“Y/N! You finally answered!” Though you’ve known him for a substantial amount of time by now, you’ve never heard him sound this distressed. It makes panic slowly bubble up in you in return. Before you can try to get any answers, he continues. “I’m so, so sorry. Please don’t be mad at me. Please don’t break up with me.”

If you didn’t know him well by now, you would have jumped to the worst possible conclusion. Instead, you try to calm yourself and him down. “Jaemin, what are you talking about? Why would I be mad at you?”

“For letting you go home alone. For staying at the party. Because that girl tried to dance with me. Because I’m a terrible boyfriend. Because-”

With each thing he lists, you get more confused. One thing you’re certain of, however, is that Jaemin is the opposite of a bad boyfriend. You cut him off. “Jaemin, stop. I went home because I wasn’t feeling well and I told you to stay because I wanted you to have fun. You sent that girl away, so why does she even matter? You’re not a terrible boyfriend. I have no clue where you got that idea from.”

There’s a couple seconds of just his shaky breathing over the phone before he croaks out a quiet, “What?”

“I’m not mad at you. And I wasn’t ignoring you either. I was asleep until ten minutes ago.” You’re not used to hearing Jaemin like this, but that doesn’t mean the right words are hard to find. In fact, they’re just on the tip of your tongue, tumbling out seamlessly. “I love you a lot, Jaemin. I wouldn’t play those sorts of passive aggressive games with you. I also have no intentions of breaking up with you.”

“I love you, too.” His voice seems more even, like he’s taken control of himself again. You know he’s had some bad experiences with ex-girlfriends, so you’re certain these worries came from them. You’ll have to talk to him about that sometime. “Can you… can you come over?”

The vulnerability in his voice makes your heart bleed for him, this boy you’ve unwittingly given your heart to over the last year. When he’s only been perfect to you, you want to return the favor. “Of course,” you say, your voice soothing even over the staticy phone line, “I’ll be over soon. I’ll be there whenever you need me.”

Sixteen.

Na Jaemin is unbothered by the fact that anyone could be watching when he does embarrassing things. Over time, his behavior has become so normal to you that you don’t even notice sometimes.

You had been out of the apartment all day, working on a group project in the university library, and it’s just before eight at night when you’re returning. You shoot your lovely boyfriend a text asking him to open the door for you because you have your hands full with the takeout you brought back for the both of you and, unsurprisingly, you’re greeted by a hug and smattering of kisses pressed to your face.

“You were gone so long, I missed you,” he whines, hugging you in a way that has you dangerously close to dropping either the bag of takeout you have in one hand or the bag of supplies for your project that you have in the other.

“Jaems, you’re not a puppy, you can stand to not see me for a few hours.” Though the words sound reprimanding, there’s an undeniable sweet fondness in your voice that tells him that you missed him too. He abandons your cheeks and forehead and nose to kiss you directly on the lips a moment later, the feeling of his mouth against yours showing that he’s smiling more than he’s kissing. For a moment, you forget about the bags in your hands and focus on the warmth of his body against yours, melting against him with a contented hum. You would have been happy to lose yourself in the moment entirely, were it not for the comment being directed at you from just down the hall.

“Gross.” Somehow, both of you had missed the fact that your sixteen-year-old neighbor had opened the door of the apartment next to yours and is grimacing at your public display of affection. It’s not the first time he’s seen the two of you doing lovey-dovey things in front of your apartment instead of inside of it, but what he usually witnessed consisted of short pecks on the cheek and hand holding, not full blown romantic kisses. You might have laughed at the scene if you weren’t thoroughly embarrassed, taking a step back from Jaemin. As your boyfriend takes the bag of food out of your hand, giving you a sly smile, your neighbor walks by, muttering at you two as he does so. “You live right there and you have to do that in the hall?”

“Don’t worry, kid, your time will come!” Jaemin responds cheerily, making you sigh softly and jokingly hit him on the arm.

“He’s right, you know!” You say, shouldering past your boyfriend to get into the apartment. “We could have moved about two steps and not subjected him to that.”

“You know my love can’t wait!” After the door shuts behind him and he sets down the food, he wrangles you into the same position you were in outside, pressing another kiss to your pouting lips. “And I know you like it.”

Seventeen.

Na Jaemin always chooses the worst movies. Okay, not really. He usually chooses really good movies. They’re only the worst because he has seen you cry at an inordinate number of them. Whether it be from fear at the various jumpscares in his favorite genre of horror or a movie about heartbreak in any of its forms, your tear ducts never cooperate with you when you tell them that you’re not going to cry.

Tonight is no different. Somehow, the two of you had settled on watching The Hunger Games and you know for sure that you’re going to cry at this one. And cry you do. During one particularly sad part, you’re trying your best to cry softly, but Jaemin can feel you shaking against his side, where you’re cuddled up against him. All he has to do is turn his head slightly to see the tears sliding down your face. He frowns, reaching out to rub at the tear tracks on your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Are you still crying? That scene has been over for like five minutes now.”

You shake your head, trying to stop the crying. “I can’t help it, it’s just so sad.”

He’s stopped watching the movie now, too busy staring into your tear-filled eyes. “Do you only cry when you’re watching movies? I swear I’ve seen you cry at like seventeen different movies but never about any of your own problems.”

To you, hearing him say that is relatively expected. You’ve been dating him for just under three quarters of a year now. “Unsurprising,” you sniffle, resting at the urge to reach up and rub at your own eyes because you enjoy the feeling of his warm hands on your face, “I don’t cry in front of other people a lot.”

“Do you cry a lot? By yourself?” His voice is soft and has a heart-wrenching hint of sadness to it. You can’t exactly read him like a book yet, but you know that he probably feels like he’s failed as a boyfriend somehow. Carefully, you reach up to rest your hand over his.

“Not really…” It’s not a lie, but that look on Jaemin’s face is still there. The one that says your guess about how he’s feeling is right.

“You can cry around me, you know. I’ll take all your sadness away.” His profession is so sincere, so sweet that it almost makes you start crying again. You know that he truly means it, too.

“Jaemin…” The look has turned into something slightly more hopeful, pleading for you to let him in. “Okay. I’ll try.” Try? Neither of you know exactly what you’re going to try to do, yet it’s still enough for both of you. After that, he seems to snap back to his normal self, pressing little kisses all over your face and dragging you into his lap. Even so, it’s clear that neither forget the words you exchanged.

Eighteen.

Na Jaemin has always made more than enough time for you. Though there’s always a new school, family, or friend event to attend, he rejects about a quarter of them for quiet stay-at-home dates with you. As often as possible, he tries to bring you with him and you try to bring him with you to any of your own events. Sometimes, though, he has to go alone.

You’ll admit that, in the last few weeks, you’ve gotten far too used to your boyfriend being at home. This time, he has some sort of family event back in his hometown and, though he invited you to join him, you can’t because of a huge test you have on Monday. However, your shared apartment feels far too quiet without him. Throughout the day, you catch yourself when you’re about to call out to him to ask him a question or simply for a distraction. You distract yourself enough during dinner by going out for a friend, but then you’re back in your apartment by ten at night. To your disappointment, Jaemin has already sent you a goodnight text, saying that he wishes he could talk but he has to wake up early. After sending him a goodnight text back, you resign yourself to idly watching some Netflix show that you don’t remember very much of.

That night, you toss and turn in your bed, unable to sleep. The space where Jaemin normally sleeps feels too cold. Somewhere in your restlessness, you start to feel somewhat embarrassed. You’re really this dependent on your boyfriend? Still... it’s just so strange not having him here.

The comfort of the thought that he’s sleeping soundly in his bed in his hometown is enough for you to stop messing up your sheets with your movement and try to settle down. You know he would be telling you to fall asleep quickly so you can keep studying for your test, the entire reason you’re still here in the first place. Even with your head resting on his pillow on his side of the bed, his familiar scent wrapped around you as much it can be, you still count three sets of one hundred sheep before you even feel tired. The last number you remember is three hundred and eighteen.

Nineteen.

Na Jaemin has quite the memory for specifics when it comes to you. Whether it be the type of bagel you like to eat in the morning or the date of your mother’s birthday, he’s always remembering things about you. It’s quite sweet and is just another reminder of how important you are to him. You struggle a bit more with some of those things, but every detail you bring up that you remember about him has him glowing.

“Can you believe we met when we were teenagers?” Jaemin says it out of nowhere one day when both of you are lounging around your apartment.

You hum in response, looking away from your book and tapping your chin. “Hm, I guess you’re right. Nineteen feels like a long time ago, though.”

“You’re talking like we’re old. I don’t know about you, but I'm still young as a spring chicken.”

You can’t help laughing at that. “You want me to believe you’re not old when you use that expression?”

He turns his nose up at you, refusing to smile when you nudge him in the side. “Words are timeless, thank you very much.”

“Mhm, okay. Maybe you’ve just been a vampire this entire time and you’re actually two hundred years old, trying to trick me.”

He sits up, mustering up a look of pure innocence. “Me? A vampire? Trick you? Whatever would make you think that?”

“Well, you’re too handsome to be any normal human.” You’re almost proud of how you set that one up when his face lights up.

“What does that make you, then? An angel?” Though you don’t blush as easily as you used to, it’s still hard to simply swallow all of the flattery he throws at you, even if it’s a taste of your own medicine this time. Still, you attempt to continue the banter.

“You’ve corrupted this angel, then, Mr. Vampire.”

He pouts. “Corrupted you? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He pauses for a moment, then gives you a sly smile. “I suppose you have learned how to flirt better because of me.”

“Well, I had to get used to it somehow. Then again, it could just be natural talent.” Before he can laugh because you both know that’s not true, you swoop in, pressing a kiss to his lips. He relishes in the feeling for a moment, then proceeds to drag you onto his lap. As inconsequential as that memory may be, you’ll always remember the way your apartment filled with sunlight and laughter that day.

Twenty.

Na Jaemin, in all of his obviousness, can also be quite sneaky.

You learned this well in just the first few weeks you were dating, but even now, a year later, you still find it to be almost out of character for him. He’s strange in the way that he is simultaneously the most subtle and the least subtle person you know.

When you receive the text ‘Are you okay?’ from him one night while you’re sitting in your own apartment, face pressed into your pillow while you play sad songs and mope over the particularly frustrating homework that you left scattered on your desk, you’re slightly suspicious. Does he just have a strange sixth sense for you being upset? Still, you muster up the energy to stop moping and respond to him. Before you can finish typing a drab ‘I’m fine’ to him, you receive a second message from him.

JM: Are you okay?

JM: You don’t have to lie

After a moment of thought, you erase your message and start typing a new one.

Y/N: Not really… this assignment is killing me and ngl I spent the last twenty minutes crying

JM: oh baby

JM: you know that i believe in you more than anyone, right? if anyone can do it, you can!

Y/N: you really don’t know how much that means to me, Jaems :((

JM: check your spotify real quick :)

You’re confused, but you do as he says. You scroll through it for a moment before a new playlist catches your eye. The playlist’s title is simply a sun emoji and it says that you created it. You don’t remember the playlist at all, though. When you scroll through it, you nearly tear up again. All twenty of the songs in the playlist are your absolute favorites, ones that make you happy no matter what. Jaemin had to have made this playlist, right? Your suspicions are only confirmed when, after you start playing the first song, he sends you a sun emoji.

JM: you logged onto your account on my phone last week

JM: i know you only listen to sad songs when you’re upset, so put on that playlist whenever you don’t want to talk about whatever’s bothering you and you need a pick-me-up, okay?

You call him right after that, tears of happiness at how caring, how sweet, how perfect he is slipping down your face this time. At some point, time escapes you, so when you glance at the clock on your phone, you’re shocked to see that an hour has passed. With a promise to call him again after you’re done with your assignment, you hang up. Except, the first thing you do after you hang up isn’t to start working again. Instead, you edit his contact in your phone to have a little sun emoji in his name.

Twenty-one.

Na Jaemin has never minded you borrowing his clothes to wear.

Last night was one of those nights that you stayed over at his apartment - not an uncommon occurrence - so you’re digging through his closet, attempting to find something suitable to wear after you use his shower. As you’re pawing through his closet, your fingers wrap around a particularly comfy looking hoodie when you see a gem of his past hidden behind it. Abandoning the hoodie, you pull out an old jersey, his last name and the number twenty-one stamped on the back. “Nana, tell me about this. You played basketball?”

He looks up from his bed, where he’s lounging about, scrolling on his phone. The sight of the athleticwear draws a fond smile onto his face. “I played in high school for a bit! Jeno pushed me to try out one year and I actually did well enough that I got on the team.” He gets up and takes the shirt from your hands. “Ah, this brings back memories. This is how I got my lucky number, you know.” You make a little noise of recognition in response. The sight of him gazing at the jersey with a warm, nostalgic look in his eyes makes you smile. “I’m glad I got to see it, but why did you bring it to school?”

“Thought I could wear it as a Halloween costume or something one year. Or didn’t have the heart to leave it home, maybe.” You understand the feeling. You couldn’t leave one or two of your own high school shirts at home. Realizing how strange the comment has made the atmosphere, he stops gazing at the item in his hands, giving you a mischievous look instead. “You know, basketball player isn’t that bad of an idea for a Halloween costume, but we should do a couple costume. If I’m a basketball player, you get to be a sexy cheerleader.”

That sudden comment makes you snort. “In your dreams. I’ll be a cheerleader who wears a hoodie and sweatpants to perform.”

Though the conversation devolves into both of you playfully pushing each other with words and physical touches, it’s those small moments where you get a look at a different side of Jaemin that always stand out to you.

Twenty-two.

Na Jaemin does a really good job at convincing you to make bad decisions sometimes. This week’s bad decision is a twenty-four hour movie marathon that he insisted on having once he learned that you’d never pulled an all nighter. The first movie was his pick, then the second was yours, and then his again before you both agreed to put on the entire Lord of the Rings series.

Once the sun has long left the sky, the day starts taking a toll on you and, whenever you start to feel your eyes drooping, Jaemin prods you, telling you to not be lame and to stay awake, except one glance at him tells you that he’s also feeling the exhaustion. Even the abhorrent number of espresso shots he puts into his coffee can’t keep him awake forever, especially since you had convinced him that it was cheating to have anything too caffeinated after a certain time of the evening. You had started at nine in the morning the day before and the sun is now peaking through the blinds of Jaemin’s apartment.

“Only,” Jaemin says, glancing at the time on his phone, “two hours to go…”

His body is far too warm and the blanket you’re snuggled under is far too soft for you to be able to last much longer, you’re sure. You also know that it would invigorate you if you got up, walked around, maybe drank some water, but a part of you doesn’t want to succeed at your twenty-four hour movie marathon.

The little bit of extra warmth that lands on you from the sun is enough to lull you to sleep. As you nod off at around seven, twenty-two hours after you started, you’re too tired to notice that Jaemin had already fallen asleep, his nose pressed into your hair and his arm around your waist.

Twenty-three.

Na Jaemin has slowly divulged his secrets to you.

No ticklish person willingly gives up the information that they’re ticklish - you have to discover it on your own. You had your suspicions that he’s weak to being tickled when you first snuck up on him while he was wearing earbuds one day. You had surprised him with a hug from behind, like he so frequently does to you, and he instinctively responded to your fingertips grazing him side by squirming. He twisted in your arms, turning around to face you, his eyebrows raising in surprise before he broke out into a bright smile. When he had embraced you and popped out his earbuds, engaging you in a conversation and cooing about how happy he was to see you, you nearly forgot about his strange reaction to your touch.

You decide to run a little test. When you’re eating dinner with him at his apartment later that night, you reach over at one point and prod at his side with your fingers. His reaction is more than you expected - he practically doubles over, twisting away from you and swatting at your hand. Once you pull your hand away, smirking at your discovery, he recovers from being tickled and gives you a look of betrayal. Before he can complain, you speak. “We’ve been together for more than a year now and you didn’t tell me you’re ticklish?”

“I’m not!” That denial is the first thing out of his mouth, but when you make a motion with your hand that threatens to tickle him again, he raises both of his hands in defense. “Okay! I may have a slight weakness to being tickled...”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Jaemin. Completely normal.” He just shrugs, but seems to be more relaxed. “Will you trust me for a moment?”

“I always trust you, I-” As soon as those words are out of his mouth, you swing a leg over his, straddling him with your phone in hand. “Whoa,” he says, his hands instinctively going to your hips, “I didn’t know you were feeling frisky tonight.”

“Don’t be gross.” You stick your tongue out at him.

“Me, being gross? You’re the one who just hopped onto my lap like-”

“Just tell me when it gets to be too much, okay?” You open the timer app on the device in your hand.

His eyes widen. “Wait, what-” He is interrupted as you press start on your timer and start tickling him furiously. The air of his apartment fills with his tortured laughter. He squirms uncomfortably under you, making it hard to keep your balance atop his legs. Finally, in a feat of incredible focus, he grabs onto both of your hands, holding them down on top of your own lap. A glance at your phone screen tells you that he lasted twenty-three seconds of your tickling. He’s red in the face, an uncommon sight for you, and he’s breathing heavily, a disappointed pout on his face. “You could have warned me! What if I just did that to you out of nowhere?”

“I’m not ticklish,” you say triumphantly, smirking at him, “and you pull any number of surprises on me all the time.”

“You’re so weird. It looks like I’ll just have to “surprise” you more often to make up for this, then,” he grumbles, releasing your hands to make air quotes in his sentence. Feeling a bit guilty, you lean forward slightly, kissing him on the tip of his nose.

“I look forward to it.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, pretending like he doesn’t think what you’re saying is unbearably cute. “I hate you.”

“Well, I love you. Forgive me?”

You get your answer when you lean forward to kiss him on the cheek, but he simply captures your lips with his own instead.

Twenty-four.

Na Jaemin overworks himself far too much for your liking. That’s probably why he has a cold right now and is too miserable to get out of bed. When he finally admitted to being sick, you opted to visit and take care of him without even thinking too much about it. You never mind helping him out - he is your boyfriend, after all - but it certainly does not feel good to see someone you care about be in so much pain.

You let yourself into his apartment with the spare key he gave you, ingredients for some soup in hand, and all you can see is darkness. His blinds are drawn, so you feel around for the lightswitch, flicking it on. Everything inside is disturbingly untouched, telling you that he really hasn’t gotten out of bed today. Sliding off your shoes and depositing your food in the kitchen, you make your way to his bedroom, knocking lightly. You’re met with a groan, so you let yourself in. All that you can see of your boyfriend is a lump of blankets. You would laugh at the sight if this wasn’t the most ill you’ve ever seen him. “Jaemin,” you coo, padding towards his bed and putting a hand on what you think is his shoulder, “I’m here.”

His head pops out from under the blankets. He’s sweaty, some of his bangs sticking to his forehead, and you can practically feel the warmth radiating off of him, but the very characteristic pout on his lips makes you believe that he might not be dying just yet. A moment later, he’s ducking back under the covers, hiding his face. “No,” he whines, drawing out the sound, “you can’t look at me. I’m not handsome right now.”

You have to stifle a laugh at that. “Honey, you’re always handsome. Have you eaten anything yet?”

He peeks out so that only the parts of his face above his nose are visible. “I don’t want to get up.” The sound comes out muffled, but you manage to decipher it.

“Lucky for you that I’m here so that I can bring it to you.”

Through the day, you feed him bit by bit and force him to drink water and tea, banning coffee because he doesn’t need that sort of caffeination in his system. You even coax him into taking a bath in the evening, where he nearly disrobes in front of you in his sick haze. As he’s doing that, you have some time to think and you discover that, though you would rather your boyfriend not suffer and be back in good health, you don’t mind him relying on you for once. Jaemin has always been there for you, supporting you with his entire heart and taking the lead whenever you couldn’t, and now it feels like you’re paying him back in at least some small way.

When he returns to his room, clothed this time, you take your time drying his hair for him. You’re about to stand and wish him goodnight, but he takes ahold of your hand as you do so, tugging on it. This is a familiar situation - there have been many times where Jaemin has stopped you from going home at night and made you stay with him. Except, usually, he would just pull you into bed with him, using his strength advantage. Now, the tug on your hand is small, weak, and your heart hurts at the expression he’s making. He’s pleading with his eyes as best as he can. “Please stay.”

“But,” you start, already feeling the weakness of the excuse, “you’re sick and I’ll just take up too much space in your bed and…” You sigh. “I’ll stay.” Luckily enough, you wore comfy clothes to his apartment. It’s warm under his blankets and his skin isn’t blazing anymore like it was earlier in the day. He’s facing you, blinking at you with half-lidded eyes. Slowly, his hand slides up, running through your hair before it drops down to find your hand. “Are you gonna sleep now?” You whisper, seeing his eyes droop even more.

“Mhm,” he hums in response, thumb idly rubbing over the top of your hand. A minute later, he’s stilled almost completely. After not much longer, you follow him into dreamland.

When you awaken, it’s because sunlight is burning through your eyelids. With a quiet groan, you realize that you forgot to close the blinds of his room last night after you had forced him to let some light in during the day. Upon opening your eyes, you’re greeted with the sight of Jaemin smiling at you, sleep still heavy on his face. “Good morning, beautiful.”

His voice is gravely, but doesn’t have the depressing weariness to it that it did yesterday. With a smile of your own, you murmur back to him. “Good morning to you, too. I only get one day off from your shameless flirting?”

“Shameless? You want me to have shame for flirting with my lovely, amazing, caring, talented-”

“You’re doing it again-”

“-girlfriend who took care of me when I was feeling my worst?” With that, you purse your lips, looking away from him. He proceeds to smother you in cuddles, pulling you against him and practically wrapping his entire body around yours.

“Na Jaemin, you’re still sick!” You try to say, but it comes out as a series of muffled sounds and he ignores you, continuing to cuddle you furiously. He pulls away briefly just to pepper you with kisses. 

“I‘m only sick of how you’re not returning my love,” he says half in the middle of peck on your cheek.

“If I didn’t return your love, would I have stayed here for the last twenty-four hours taking care of you?” He stops just short of kissing you directly on the lips, pulling back to give you a look of shock.

“We spent our first full day together and I was completely out of it the whole time?” You’re about to open your mouth to scold him for trying to make you feel bad about taking care of him, but he breaks into a familiar mischievous smile. “Looks like you’ll have to spend all of today here to make for it.” When he sees that you’re about to protest, he continues. “Or all of today and tomorrow.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at him, holding back the grin threatening to spread on your face, too. “It seems like someone is feeling better. It’s like you don’t even need me to stay here and take care of you.”

He falls back onto the bed instantly, throwing an arm over his forehead and feigning illness. “Oh no, it’s so much worse than before. I can’t get out of bed.”

You spend the next few minutes trying to wrestle him out of the comfort of his blankets, only to find that, in all truthfulness, he is still a bit weak when it comes to walking and any other form of exertion. That night, he forces you to stay over once again and, honestly, you’re not sure you were ever opposed to the idea at all.

Twenty-five.

Na Jaemin does not make a point of crying in front of you. He also doesn’t make a point of showing you when he’s really, truly upset, either, for the most part. He scolded you before about keeping your tears to yourself, that he’s always there with an open shoulder should you ever need to cry, but you can count the number of times you’ve seen him cry on one hand. For someone so warm and radiant, he’s miraculously closed off. He never shies away from showing love and it’s a constant tug-of-war between the two of you over who loves who the most, as he won’t accept your care in return half the time.

It’s about a week before finals and you’ve deemed that you completed a satisfactory amount of studying for the evening. Somehow, Jaemin hasn’t joined you in your shared bedroom yet, so you step out to check on him, stretching your arms above your head and yawning. A quick glance at your phone tells you that the date has already changed from twenty-four to twenty-five, meaning that it’s past midnight. When you emerge into the kitchen, you see Jaemin’s figure hunched over the table, his forehead resting on the trackpad of his laptop. Well, that’s concerning. He doesn’t lift his head as you approach, simply staring down at the floor from his strange position. “Jaemin?” You question, reaching forward to prod his shoulder. He just groans quietly as you do so. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” he mumbles, speaking towards the floor, “you should go to bed.” Despite his reassurances, a genuineness is missing from his voice and he still isn’t looking at you. Sighing quietly to yourself, you get on the ground, squeezing between some chairs to get under the table so you can look him in the eyes. Surprise lights his eyes up slightly as you grab his hand and tug on it gently.

“I’m not going to bed,” you say gently, the familiar warmth of your hands feeling soothing on his skin, “until you tell me what’s wrong and how I can help.”

It’s his turn to sigh. Still, he relents. “There’s nothing you can do to help. The paper I’ve been working on for the last six hours just closed randomly and I lost four pages of work.”

“That’s still fixable! Not a lost cause.”

“It’s due in the morning.”

“Oh.” You frown for a moment before letting out a quiet hum. “Hm, think of it this way. You’ve already written the paper, so now you just have to remember it, and maybe use this chance to make it even better than it was before! And the sooner you finish it, the sooner you’ll be done, if that makes sense.” Though his forehead is still pressed against the table, he nods to the best of his ability.

“I guess you’re right…”

“I’ll even make coffee for you if you want.”

He laughs quietly, only half of what a normal laugh would be from him. “You hate when I drink coffee.”

“I don’t hate it,” you say, pouting, “I’m okay with it when it helps you. And because you like it.” At that, he smiles slightly, his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand.

“It’s okay, I don’t need coffee right now anyways. All I need is for you to come here so I can kiss you.” Encouraged by the fact that he seems in slightly better spirits now, you get too excited and try to lean forward from your position under the table, only succeeding on banging your head on the edge of the wood. You pull back with a groan, ignoring the full laughs now coming out of your boyfriend. As he tries to calm his laughter down, he pushes back his chair and slides to the ground, joining you on the floor. He moves the hand you have cupped over the bump forming on your scalp, his lips pressing over the spot instead. Before you can remark on him laughing on you, his leans forward, kissing you fully on the lips. You sit on the floor with him, the light from your apartment bleeding out into the dark night outside the window, letting him find comfort in your lips against his and your hands intertwined.

When he pulls away, the words leave your lips so easily. “I love you.” It’s barely a whisper, but that’s okay. That’s okay because he’s the only one who needs to hear it. He’s usually the one who says it first, always saying it so easily, but, this time, the words leave your mouth as smoothly as they usually leave his. He only lets the surprise show on his face for a moment before he’s grinning and then kissing you one more time.

“I love you, too.”

Both of you know that you shouldn’t spend much longer just kissing and exchanging confessions on the floor, but you take just a few more minutes to do so anyways. Finally, the two of you get up - more carefully this time - and he doesn’t complain as you drag a chair over and sit next to him as he wakes his laptop back up to work on his paper. He especially doesn’t complain when you drift off about two hours later and your head droops onto his shoulder.

“What’re you doing?”

Jaemin’s arms are suddenly around you from behind, bumping your arm and making your pen skitter slightly over the page, disrupting your sentence.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you sigh and don’t respond to the kiss he presses to your cheek before you turn towards him. He slides into the chair next to you and rests his elbow on the desk, his chin in his hand. “Na Jaemin, do you see what you just made me do?”

“I would be sorry, but you’ve been cooped up in here for like four hours now and you haven’t said a single word to me. I know you’re not doing homework, so…” He looks at you expectantly, waiting for an answer to his question. He glances down at your notes and you quickly move to cover them with your arms.

“I’m making a memory journal! You can’t look until I get all of them down.” He moves his head, trying to see under your arms, so you quickly snap the notebook shut, hiding the words inside.

“So secretive,” he grumbles, eyeing the closed notebook, “how many do you have so far?” “Twenty five.”

“You really have that many? Color me impressed.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips at that. “I’m trying to get to one hundred, one memory for each number.”

His eyes widen. “You’ll really have one for every number?”

“I mean… it’s not always easy to think of one… I-” As you’re speaking, he suddenly lunges forward, pulling the notebook away from you and flying away from his seat when you try to grab it back from him. “Na Jaemin!”

He ignores you, attempting to open your notebook and read what you have written, but you pursue him, forcing him to dodge you repeatedly. When you try to circle him, he simply raises the item above his head, avoiding your tries at snatching it back. Then, he tosses it onto your bed. Your eyes swing back and forth between him and the item before you go for it. His arms wrap around your waist and he’s suddenly tossing you onto the bed on your stomach as well. You shriek his name when he picks the notebook back up before you can and lies on top of you, weighing you down with his body. For a moment, you’re squirming under him, trying to smack at him, but you find that your leverage is too poor, so you just lie prone underneath him while he flips the notebook open and his eyes flit quickly over the words. “Jaemin,” you whine, “seriously.”

He ignores you, but you watch as his face shifts, his lips parting in some sort of happy surprise and eyebrows lifting. “Is this how you remember it?”

“Yeah,” you huff, his weight putting uncomfortable pressure on your lungs, “is there something wrong with it?”

“Nothing is wrong with it,” he says, eyes still moving over the page, “you’re just so... cute. Like, even more than usual.”

“If you think it’s that cute, you can get off of me so I can keep working.” You wiggle a little underneath him again.

“You should take a break,” he declares, getting off of you quickly and snapping the book shut. He reaches out and grabs your hand, pulling you up.

“You just want me to amuse you.”

“No,” he says, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout, “I miss my girlfriend and I want to spend time making more memories with her.” He leans forward, his lips by your ear. Your hair stirs as his breath disturbs some of it. “In case you didn’t know, that’s you.”

He starts to tug you along, away from your bed and the incomplete notebook that is now resting on the blankets. “Wait, I didn’t even get to write about when you made me go cliff diving, or how your heart rate speeds up whenever we’re together, or-”

“Y/N.” He turns to you, still holding your hand. “It’ll help to go make more memories now. You’ll get to one hundred eventually. Let’s go.”

As he’s tugging you out of your apartment a minute later, the number placard on the front of your unit reflects back some of the hallway light. You make a note to yourself.

Twenty six. The apartment number where you live with the love of your life, where you sit and write the story of how you met, and where he can take you away to go on even more adventures.

[aion-rsa]

Memento and the Significance of Sammy Jankis

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“Have I told you about Sammy Jankis?”  

On March 16, 2001, Christopher Nolan announced himself to the world with the US release of Memento. Not that everyone heard him straight away.

Despite garnering rave reviews on the festival circuit, Nolan’s mind-bending jigsaw puzzle of a movie failed to land a major distribution deal in the States. In the end Newmarket Films, the independent production company bankrolling the project, took the plunge and distributed it themselves. 

Memento went on to earn more than $45 million at the US box office from a $4.5 million budget – a huge sum for an independent film.

Within five years, Nolan would move on to bigger and Bat-er things, but Memento remains among his most ambitious and effective films to date. A non-linear neo-noir that doubles up as a psychological thriller, it’s a film that continues to offer up subtle surprises on repeat viewing.

Guy Pearce takes centre stage with a mesmeric performance as Leonard, a man with short-term memory loss trying to track down his wife’s murderer. His pursuit is hampered by an inability to create new memories. 

It’s a similarly disorientating experience for viewers who must piece together Leonard’s story while it plays out in reverse order. Allied to this is the story of Sammy Jankis, played by Stephen Tobolowsky, which intersperses that of Leonard’s and plays out across a series of black-and-white scenes shown in chronological order. 

Narrated by Leonard, from an apparent recollection of a case he took during days as an insurance investigator, like our protagonist, Sammy also claims to be anterograde amnesiac – and that’s not all they have in common.

The film continues to alternate between the two narratives, with Leonard obsessively telling the tale of Sammy to anyone who will listen, before the two stories eventually converge in a climax where their shared plight becomes painfully apparent. 

Despite its modest budget, Memento boasted an impressive cast. Pearce had shot to mainstream fame with LA Confidential a few years earlier while Joe Pantoliano, who played Leonard’s helper/fixer Teddy, was an established figure in the business along with his co-star from The Matrix, Carrie Anne Moss.

There was even a role for future Sons of Anarchy star and Nolan favourite Mark Boone Junior as the underhand manager of the motel where Leonard lives. Tobolowsky more than held his own though. 

A seasoned character actor, by the time Memento came around he had enjoyed a memorable turn in Groundhog Day as the hilariously grating insurance agent Ned Ryerson. But it hadn’t been without its drawbacks in the years that followed.

Tobolowsky explained to Den of Geek: “The good news and bad news of being Ned in Groundhog Day is, guess what? You’re going to be Ned in Groundhog Day for the rest of your career. A lot of times when people are in comedic roles and want to do something more dramatic, it’s not available to them. Especially with something like Groundhog Day. An actor like me could get an opportunity to be in a drama but it might not work out because the audience would still see Ned Ryerson. Not this role. Sammy Jankis was so remarkably different.”

Landing the role of Jankis proved remarkably different too, starting with Nolan’s script, based on a short story written by his brother Jonathan called Memento Mori.

“My agent called me up and said John Papsidera, a casting director, wanted me to take a look at this script. John had a reputation for doing really unusual and generally good movies so I was very happy to. A standard first draft script is usually around 120 pages before a producer or director gets their hands on it. Because of the way it is formatted, one page should equal around one minute of screen time. I got the screenplay for Memento and it was like the Old and New Testament combined. I had never seen a script so big. I don’t remember the exact page numbers but it was in the 300s.”

Having seen his fair share of scripts over the years, Tobolowksy was apprehensive about reading what looked like the equivalent of “Gone with the Wind times ten.”

“I was thinking to myself ‘Oh God, this is going to be terrible. ’I even said to my wife, ‘ I know it’s going to be awful. It’s three times longer than normal but I’m going to read it just to be a good sport.’ I start reading and I’m halfway through and my wife comes in and I’m saying ‘damn it, damn it’ and she says ‘Terrible?’ and I say ‘No, so far really great but there’s no way these writers can continue at this level. It’s going to crap out by the end.”

“I get to the end and I throw the script across the room and my wife hears me, comes in, and says ‘Terrible?’ and I say ‘No, quite possibly the best script I’ve ever read.’” Nolan’s script was unlike any Tobolowsky had read, bringing the filmmaker’s vision for the movie to life in stunning detail.

“Chris and Jonathan wrote it in a way where they describe exactly what the camera is doing. Everything was perfectly described and you got a picture of the movie in your head, backwards and forwards in time. It was mind-blowing. I called up my agent immediately and said I had to meet Chris Nolan. I had to talk to him about Sammy Jankis.”

Despite few lines, the role of Sammy was a significant one. A part that much of the film’s plot ultimately rested on. Determined to make the role his own and shake off the ghost of Ned, Tobolowsky met with Nolan knowing he had a unique selling point when it came to the role. 

“I said ‘Chris, I didn’t come here to read for you. There’s nothing really for me to read, but this is what I want to tell you: this is quite possibly one of the best screenplays ever written. You are going to have actors all over this city that will want to be in this. However, I am going to be the only person that wants to be Sammy Jankis who has actually had amnesia.’ 

Chris said: ‘You’ve had amnesia?’ and I was like ‘Yes, and this is how it happened…’”

Tobolowsky explained that during surgery for a kidney stone, doctors had used an experimental drug in place of the standard anesthesia.

“I’m a big guy, like six foot three and 210 pounds, so they gave me a new drug that they had been using on bigger people. It means they are able to give instructions to the patient like to get up on the operating table, rather than have orderlies lifting them. The patient performs the task and then forgets it had happened. It worked the same with the pain.”

It led to what he describes as “drug induced amnesia” as the medication worked its way through his system. “I would be in my living room and then boom! It was like I was just born. The worst was when I was standing over the toilet and suddenly didn’t know if I was about to pee or if I had already peed. Fortunately, I heard my wife yell ‘you finished ten minutes ago!’”

The description of his ordeal was enough to convince Nolan he was the man for the job – but that was only the start of the challenge for Tobolowsky.

“It was the most difficult part I have ever played in my life. When you are an actor, the thing that moves you through a scene is your motivation. But when your character can’t remember anything, you don’t have that.”

In order to better portray Sammy’s damaged mind, he began by breaking down the character’s actions into behaviors marked as either old or new.

“There are the old, every day, behaviors we don’t think about like making breakfast. The rote nature of that behavior means you might do it quickly, almost mechanically. Then there is the newer stuff that takes longer because you are trying to understand what you are doing for the first time. 

“I had met people who have lost their memory, through Alzheimer’s or an accident, and noticed how these old behaviors were still familiar to them.”

This attention to detail was not lost on audiences.

In one small but memorable moment, Sammy greets Leonard at the door of his home with a look Leonard initially believes to be recognition and proof he is faking his condition.

It’s only later, when Leonard begins to understand his own plight, that Nolan has us revisit that same look, only this time with the realisation Sammy’s expression is instead one of desperate hope with that complex duality perfectly conveyed by Tobolowsky.

“That look was about putting out a message saying ‘I am sorry I may know you, so I don’t want to embarrass myself or you by acting like I don’t know you,’” Tobolowsky explains.

Later, after Leonard has rejected Sammy’s insurance claim, his wife, played by Frasier star Harriet Sansom Harris, decides to test the theory for herself by having him administer shot after shot of insulin, in the hope he will realise his mistake before she suffers a fatal overdose.

It’s then that we see Tobolowsky channeling the mechanical, emotionless actions of old, going through the motions of giving his wife the shot, as he has always done, oblivious to the tragic implications for both characters.

But Sammy is oblivious, with Tobolowsky’s emotionless, robotic approach to the repeated injections – something he has done for years – adding a layer of tragedy simultaneously to both characters.

“We all worked it out together in the moment. You let the truth emerge from the scene in the moment the camera is running.”

However, the true significance of Sammy in the wider story of Leonard only fully emerges later in the film after the latter’s revelatory encounter with Teddy.

It’s Teddy who reveals that he has been using Leonard to kill criminal associates. He claims to have tracked down the real “John G” behind the murder of Leonard’s wife years ago and, most tellingly, that Sammy’s story is actually Leonard’s, created to absolve himself of guilt. 

Which begs the question: Are Sammy and Leonard simply one and the same person? And, if so, did Leonard kill his wife by accident?

While some degree of ambiguity remains, Tobolowsky says such notions played into Nolan’s decision to include a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment where Sammy, holed up in an old folk’s home, is for a brief flash, replaced by Leonard. 

“Chris played with the idea on set. He said he had an idea for a moment where he would replace me with Guy. He wanted to try that out. That was determined while filming, the idea of the switch, which cements the idea of the two characters being one and the same. 

“Chris was mining the depths of his script in the moment, which takes nerve as an artist.  “

Reflecting on the experience, Tobolowsky only has positive memories of his experience on Memento, and the commitment shown by Pearce – particularly when it came to the tattoos that serve as reminders to Leonard of his past and forgotten present.

“Guy Pearce was just magnificent,” he says. “Every day, he would be in the chair getting those tattoos put on or removed. There would be long make-up breaks to get them adjusted perfectly and Chris would have it so that we would be shooting while Guy was in the makeup trailer.”

“Chris was a fabulous director to work with. Full of good humour and insight. The entire shoot was filled with energy and fun and that came from the top. I knew right away I was working with somebody very special. Chris takes chances.”

Tobolowsky holds his experience on Memento in the highest regard.

“When you do a lot of shows and movies, the idea is not how many you can squeeze in, it’s about which ones mattered to you.  The work you did that affected you as a person and an artist. Something like Memento is profoundly affecting with the questions it asks.

“What haunts me about Sammy Jankis was that idea that if you cannot remember what you do, both your sins and your blessings, what kind of hell are you in?  That final scene where Sammy is the old folk’s home, there is this question: Is he at peace? If you don’t know what is happening to you, what is your life? And what happens to Leonard? 

He also credits the film with changing his career for the better.

“After I did Memento, I was considered for all sorts of roles that I wouldn’t have been before. It broke the Groundhog Day mold and showed what I was capable of. 

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

“There have been so many movies I have been in. Some terrible, some mediocre and a few classics. It always comes down to the script and director. Memento is one of the good ones. It’s a masterpiece. There’s nothing quite like it.”

The post Memento and the Significance of Sammy Jankis appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[becomingbts]

Find a Way (9)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Type: angst (fluff later I swear) - series

Warning(s): deals with suicide. If you’re not confortable with that subject, I suggest you don’t read it, though, it isn’t descriptive for now. (nsfw)

Around 2.6k

summary: “If you accept, you’ll go back in time each time you’ll fail.” “I don’t care, I’ll save her no matter what.”

In 2011, he left everything behind so that he could follow his dreams. Yet, he also left his bestfriend, the one that supported him to go to the auditions, the one who cheered on him, the one who brought him banana milk when he felt down, but also the one that killed herself a day before he finally came back.

notes: Hello everyone! Ugh, my schedule has been all over the place, I’m very sorry about it! I’ll try to update more, but my mood isn’t the best! Proof reading takes time hahaha, anyway! I hope that everyone is healthy!

Take well care,

Admin Dolly

What the hell happened?

Jungkook wasn't sure at all. Running his hands in his hair, he sighed, motivation hard to find. Yet, he needed to do something. He knew he was beginning to loose track of the chronology, so he needed to do something about it. He took a paper and began to write down everything that had happened as he didn't want to get confused over some details. So, chronologically : 

He got kicked of the restaurant after learning that (Y/N) passed away. 

He then found her grave and met her pretended ghost who made a trade with him to save her, and that's how he entered in the loop. 

During the first loop, he got caught by ARMYS and antis, Bighit found out about his little travel and required for him to come back. He still went to the restaurant but that time, he got inside without much troubles. There, he learnt that (Y/N) had become a dance teacher and where she worked. He went to see her but ran away, panicked at the idea of meeting her. 

During the second loop, he took a taxi, succeeded in not being seen by anyone, and went straight to (Y/N)'s work. The woman that he took for (Y/N) was a co-worker of hers who told him that she had left earlier in a hurry, leaving him no chance to catch her before she leaves. Seokjin called him in this loop and the weather was different. He got motivated to go to her house but found it empty. There, he learnt that the neighbour had not seen her sister in a few days and he found a postcard from (Y/N)'s sister, leaving him wondering what the hell happened because the date of her return was the same of (Y/N)'s death.

So now the thing was: what could he do. Nobody knew where she went. Nobody had seen her sister in a few days. Her co-worker, who saw her in the same morning, saw her rushing somewhere, but her destination was still unknown. How the hell was he supposed to find her? Jungkook tore the paper before sighing heavily. This wouldn't lead anywhere. He slammed his door, going to take a shower, keeping his head low as he didn't want to meet the worried eyes of his members.

Under the cold water, he shivered but didn't care enough to turn up the water. What happened to that strong-minded person to lead her to think that killing herself would be the best? She became a dance teacher, she had her little sister, she must have had plenty of friends because, who could not love her? So, what happened to trigger such a reaction? Was it not a trigger? Did she have such thoughts for a while? Was she depr- No, no, no, not possible. He could not think this way, (Y/N) was bright, bubbly, loved, she was an amazing girl and most probably became an amazing woman while growing up. So what the hell happened?

He sighed again, noticing a few tears on his cheeks. There were no use to cry now. He brought himself in this situation and had to get her out of this mess. As he got out of the bathroom, he noticed the heavy silence that was hovering in the house but couldn't care less. He heard his name faintly, he was probably called by one of the members, and he almost wanted to laugh. What would change even if he continued to stubbornly try to save her? Would he get stuck in the loop forever? Wait, no, this was not the way he wanted to think. He had to save her anyway. He would do it. But would she always end up killing herself? He needed to see her, speak to her to try to get those thoughts away from her. He n-

"Jungkook, I called you a few time. Didn't you hear me?" Namjoon stood in front of him and had grabbed his hand, trying to grab it not too tightly, leaving him the choice of leaving, so that he wouldn't feel threatened or scolded. 

"I heard you hyung, I'm sorry, I'm just... Not in the mood" Jungkook sighed once again, annoyed. 

"Come with me, will you? We have a few things to talk, I think" Namjoon smiled soothingly, trying to get his younger member to accept his offer, he knew something was up, but Jungkook had always had an hard time speaking about what was bothering him.

"What do you want to talk about hyung." he sounded annoyed and Namjoon could only hope that he would quit being snappy.

"Your behavior since you woke up. You look like someone you're not, Jungkook, and nobody likes it. It feels like you're hiding something and we need you to know that you don't have to hide anything from us." Namjoon looked worried and even though Jungkook wanted nothing but run away, he didn't mean for them to get worried about him. That had never been his goal.

"I... Yeah, I'm sorry hyung, it's nothing though. Don't worry too much about me." He tried to dismiss him, but the unimpressed glance that Namjoon threw him was enough for him to understand that he wouldn't get out of it without sitting around the table with them. Jungkook followed Namjoon reluctantly, he saw everyone already sat around the table and he gulped harshly. Was is another glitch in the loop or had it really just been his behavior that worried them? Had he been this obvious to them? 

He sat, feeling their eyes boring into him. He shifted uneasy as he finally noticed the paper that he tore and threw in the bin not even a hour ago. His eyes finally met the ones of his hyungs and he suddenly began to feel lost. That couldn't have been worse. What were they thinking of him now? He didn't need judgement. What was he supposed to say when they probably thought that he was crazy?

Oh wait, he actually had a decent idea.

"Care to explain what is happening with you?" Seokjin asked, worry stuck on his face.

"I lost at that old video game, it's a bit psychotic and makes you come back in time to find your mistakes and correct them but I'm fine, I didn't sleep a lot because of it and lost at the very end, I'm very frustrated, that's all. I'm sorry you all worried about me being childish." Jungkook was proudly laughing in his head. Who would have done a better lie in such a short time? He was truly a genius sometimes.

"I came in your room thinking you weren't sleeping around 11 pm and you were sleeping like a baby." Seokjin cut his blustering as he gulped harshly.

"I-"

"Jungkook please, we need the whole truth, we found a route on a map with a street address which lies in Busan so please, what is wrong Jungkook, are you trying to go there?" Namjoon tried again with pleading eyes and Jungkook tried to find a way to get out of it.

"Yeah well Jimin-hyung and I are going to Busan tomorrow! I wanted to note a few places that we could look for!" he giggled uneasy and immediately understood that the lie was caught already. That one had been poor, he would admit, especially if they searched for the address and found a house. That would make no sense.

"Jungkook, this street address is recorded as a family house, I don't think you're planning to visit an unknown family during your trip with Jimin, are you?" Hoseok stopped his giggles. God, they had truly searched just during his shower? They had been that fast?

"Yeah bu-"

"Jungkook we had our planning done for weeks, why the hell are you lying in front of us!" Jimin was loosing his cool as he saw that their younger member was being stubborn like he had never been. Lying so easily to them. He hated it.

"I... You're .... going to think that I'm crazy and I don't need that. I truly... don't." Jungkook broke down, finally, crying as he couldn't keep the secret anymore. Everything was so hard, the pressure was so big and the hardships were so numerous that he couldn't manage everything anymore and he couldn't keep it inside any longer as his hyungs were urging him to tell them. He heard them getting up, coming near him, rubbing their hands on his back, trying to comfort him, but he couldn't help it. He cried every tears that were left since he heard of (Y/N)'s death. It was not fair, not only did he loose one of the most precious person he had, but he couldn't get anyone to help him, he was alone, so painfully alone. He didn't even notice that he got carried to the sofa while crying. The six members were hovering around him, worried and frightened at the sight of their distraught little brother. Jungkook giggled a bit, feeling ridiculous under their astonished eyes, but loved and comforted for a moment. He wanted to stay like this forever, under the comfort of his hyungs, protected from any bad thoughts. Yet, he knew better than to actually think that it would end like this.

"Jungkook, you definitely have to talk to us. You cannot just break down like that and suddenly giggle as if nothing happened. Speak to us, we can help." Yoongi sat next to him as Namjoon was speaking. Taehyung took one of his hand into his, just like Jimin did with his other hands, the other members sitting quietly around him.

"It will sound completely crazy hyung, you won't believe me." Jungkook sighed, discouraged.

"Go on, we know you and we trust you Jungkook. You wouldn't say anything just to make a joke or anything so please, tell us." Seokjin smiled as he saw the doubt flickering in Jungkook's eyes. Would he finally open up?

"Are you really going to believe me even though it seems logically impossible?" he raised his eyes to meet theirs and he saw the comforting and warm smiles that he knew since he was a kid.

"Ah just tell us Jungkook." Yoongi was a patient man, but with limits.

"... Ah where to begin ... Yesterday, no... It's was actually 3 or 4 days ago, I don't remember, we were the 30th April."

"We are the 29th Jungkook." Jimin frowned as he noticed Jungkook was probably wrong about the date.

"No hyung, that is exactly my problem, 3 days ago, it was the 30th April, we were going to Busan together, we took the train just like we planned, almost nobody noticed us, we went to that restaurant that I told you about, the one where I used to go when I was a child. We weren't welcomed as I imagined us to be though, because I learnt that my childhood bestfriend (F/N)(L/N) killed herself the day before. It looked like a living nightmare hyung, I brought you to the cemetery because I couldn't believe it and we found her grave. Yet, if the story wasn't weird before, it only gets weirder, the time stopped, hyung you weren't moving at all, I was calling for you but you didn't answer me, it looked like you were frozen just like everything around us, the whole landscape had become black and white and a little girl that looked just like (Y/N) suddenly appeared and asked me how it felt to see that she was gone. Hyungs, I swear, it was not a nightmare, I wasn't sleeping, I had never been more awake in my whole life, I made a deal with her, I would come back in time each time I would be too late to save my bestfriend. Hyungs, I'm stuck in this loop to prevent my childhood bestfriend (Y/N) to kill herself but I only came back to this date, the 29th April, the very day of her death, I know that she surrenders at the end of the day, around 8 and 9 pm, it is never constant, some details change between timelines. Seokjin hyung, you once called me to ask me where I was and comforted me through the phone, Namjoon-hyung you once called me because bighit wanted me back right away after fans and anti spread video about me in Busan. It's the third time that I come back in my room, it's my third loop and I'm going crazy hyungs, I know it might look like it comes right from some series or fantastic books but you have to believe me, I'm losing my mind."

And when Jungkook finally went silent, the whole room became too. Nobody dared to say or ask anything. They all took their time to proceed what Jungkook just said and Namjoon suddenly hummed, leaving Jungkook a mess. What if they laughed at him?

"Okay I now get why you said that we wouldn't believe you because, in fact, it is pretty hard to believe." Namjoon laughed quietly but quickly stopped as he saw Jungkook's expression's darkening "But come on buddy, isn't a bit egocentric to think that you can do it alone?" and as Jungkook's head snapped, Namjoon was smiling warmly at him.

"We aren't your elder for nothing Kookie, we're going to help you even though it looks like a very scary nightmare that cannot happen in realit-"

"Taehyung!" he got scolded by Jimin.

"I'm joking!! I'm joking come on! We have better things to do, haven't we? Jungkook said we only have until 8 or 9 pm before the reset." Taehyung got up and Jimin followed him, they all began to leave to sit again around the table and they read again Jungkook's paper. Namjoon stayed with Jungkook in the living room. The latter was looking frantically at his hyungs, bewildered.

"Jungkook! Come! We need you to tell us exactly everything you did and tried so that we can go further and help you." Hoseok called for him from the kitchen and Jungkook couldn't believe what was happening.

"Y-You really t-trust me hyung?" he quietly asked Namjoon who only giggled a bit before helping Jungkook to stand up.

"Of course we do, silly. It might looks impossible and coming straight out of novel but if we don't trust you, who will? Aren't we family? And besides, we know you. You wouldn't make such a joke, you wouldn't come with so precise details for it to only be a bad joke. We know you Jungkook. The way you burst in tears is enough for me to trust you. I might don't understand it, but I trust you, and we're gonna help you." And Jungkook sighed but this time, it seriously lifted a weight from his shoulder.

Of course. How could he actually think that they would make fun of him?

He knew them better than anyone else.

He should have been the first one to know that they wouldn't leave him or make fun of him.

He should have known that he never walked alone.

[leilawhittaker]

do you think you could list out like the titles of the different sections/acts with their corresponding films/when they take place? sorry if this is like a lot i just find a lot of comfort in the fullness of the mcu and i would love to see kind of like an what the mm universe looks like ? sorry if this is weird rip

Not weird at all omg!! I’ve been meaning to post something like that! Just a heads up, the MMCU is...slightly less cinematic than the canon MCU, as a lot of the original plotlines I imagine as comics or graphic novels.

Guide

Format

So the format for this list goes like

Fic Title | MMCU Title | Media Type

For example: 

Out of the Woods | Black Widow: Out of the Woods | Movie

Means that the fic is called Out of the Woods, but if the MMCU were canon, it’d be a movie called Black Widow: Out of the Woods

If the MMCU Title is followed by (Canon) that means the fic correlates to a canon piece of material, as opposed to an original plotline. For example:

Battle Royale | Avengers (Canon) | Movie

Means that the fic Battle Royale corresponds to the Avengers, and largely follows the canon plotline of that arc. 

An asterisk at the beginning, and only one title,  means the movie exists in the MMCU, but happens as it does in canon, with no OC interference. Example:

*Black Panther | Movie 

Means there’s no corresponding fic or replacement fic for that movie (...yet), but that it still takes place within the MMCU canon. Note that I’ve only done this with movies; suffice it to say that aside from Agents of SHIELD, all MCU-based TV series are MM canon; if they aren’t listed, it’s just because I have no OCs or non-canon plotlines for them. Same goes for Marvel Shorts. As for canon tie-in comics, I haven’t read enough of them to decide which ones are MM canon or not; once I’ve read them all I’ll update this list accordingly if necessary. 

Other Notes

The list is of all fics, in chronological order, so ones that don’t focus on Leila’s arc have been marked as spin-offs. They still take place in the MMCU, and they’re placed in the list according to when they take place, they’re just not Leila-focused. (If there’s interest, I might do another version of this list organized by when things are released, rather than chronological order, EG Captain Marvel would be part of Phase 3 instead of Phase 1, Black Widow: Family Business would be listed after Endgame, etc.)

The first fic (The Kindness of Strangers, aka the first two chapters of MM on ffnet) is weird because I see it being split, with one chapter being told as a marvel short and the second one being told as a tie-in comic, with the very last scene of Leila being sent by Fury to recruit Steve also existing as a post-credit scene for CA:TFA. 

Some of these I haven’t come up with titles for yet, so I just put working titles or descriptors. AKA “Untitled AoS Replacement Fic” is obviously not called that, it’s a fic that I haven’t titled yet that serves as a replacement for Agents of SHIELD in the MMCU. 

Finally, this is all subject to change, I’m still ironing out a lot of things--for example, I may make an OC for Ant-Man, and I might go back to using MCU’s Spidey. We’ll see. (I may release a variation on this list as to what the MMCU looks like with MCU Spidey as opposed to TASM Spidey.)

Without further ado, here is the MMCU as I currently imagine it!

Mirror, Mirror Cinematic Universe

PHASE ONE

Captain America: The First Avenger | Movie

Has a post-credits scene that corresponds to the last scene of TKOS, in which Nick Fury assigns Leila to recruit Steve to help find the tesseract

Untitled Captain Marvel Fic | Captain Marvel | Movie

The OC doesn’t appear anywhere else, but they’re important to Leila’s story. (Hint: It has to do with the Patrice Joh mystery.)

The Kindness of Strangers ch. 1 | Recruitment Day | Marvel Short

Note: despite taking place about ~4-5 years before the events of The Avengers, this short is only released shortly before the movie, as a way to build up hype. 

*Iron Man | Movie

*The Incredible Hulk | Movie

*Iron Man 2 | Movie

*Thor | Movie

The Kindness of Strangers, ch. 2 | Royal Engagements (Prelude to Marvel’s The Avengers) | Tie-In Comic

The Kindness of Strangers (Last Scene) | N/A | Post-Credits Scene (CA:TFA)

Battle Royale | The Avengers (Canon) | Movie

-

PHASE TWO

Queen’s Gambit | Captain America and Snow White: Queen’s Gambit | Graphic Novel

Original plotline. Leila, under Fury’s orders, tries to recruit Steve to join SHIELD as a STRIKE agent, and it leads to her and Steve solving a mysterious series of bombings together. 

SPINOFF: Untitled AoS Replacement | Agents of SHIELD | TV Miniseries

Basically takes the place of AoS as a post-Avengers show about Coulson’s SHIELD team, but with a whole different (but equally diverse) cast. Runs until it ties in with Operation: Glass Coffin.

Castle Walls | Captain America and Snow White: Castle Walls | Graphic Novel

Original plotline. Carries on from Queen’s Gambit as Steve, now a SHIELD agent, and Leila try to solve the loose threads from the QG case. 

*The Amazing Spider-Man | Movie

Sparks Fly | Captain America and Snow White: The Forest Through the Trees | Graphic Novel

Original plotline. Fury has allowed Leila to handle Gifted cases between STRIKE missions. Together with Steve, she embarks on a simple extraction mission that ends up uncovering a sinister conspiracy in a small town, the two of them growing closer in the process. 

Royal Flush | Captain America and Snow White: Royal Flush | Graphic Novel

Original Plotline. SHIELD has tracked down the missing copy of their server from QG and CW, and it’s Leila’s job, with the help of Steve, and two new allies named Isabella Ferreira and Mena Desai, to go undercover to get it back. Unfortunately, this involves fake dating a nouveau riche silicon valley douchebag, which wouldn’t be so bad if there wasn’t someone she wanted to date for real. Maybe. Kind of. Probably not. But...

Codename: Snow White | Codename: Snow White | Movie

Original Plotline. Leila must face her past as old enemies try to draw attention to her biggest mistakes to undermine her status as an Avenger, in full view of her new allies and friends. 

The Reckless and the Brave | Iron Man 3 (Canon) | Movie

Untitled Thor: TTD Fic | Thor: The Dark World (Canon) | Movie

The Miller’s Daughter | Snow White: The Miller’s Daughter | Graphic Novel

Original Plotline. Steve doesn’t know about Leila as much as he thinks he does. It turns out, Leila can keep secrets other than her own. 

Untitled TWS Prelude Fic | Marvel’s Captain America: The Winter Soldier Infinite Comic (Canon) | Comic

Untitled TWS Fic | Captain America: The Winter Soldier | Movie

SIEGE Team Alpha | Snow White: Agent of SWORD | Graphic Novel

Original Plotline. While Steve, Sam and Natasha choose to stay behind, Leila takes Fury up on his offer to go to Europe, searching for answers about her healing factor. However, with a kree serum running through her veins, she rapidly begins to lose her grip on her life. 

SPINOFF: Midwinter | Midwinter | TV series OR comic series (I haven’t decided)

Original plotline. After breaking free of Hydra, Bucky gives himself one more mission: save the girl he once condemned to his own fate. After jailbreaking Anya Maximoff, the two of them embark on a mission to explore their pasts and their futures, blowing up a few Hydra bases along the way. Bucky/OC. 

SPINOFF: Out of the Woods | Black Widow: Out of the Woods | Movie

Original plotline. After the fall of SHIELD, Natasha discovered what she’d intentionally buried even from herself: her younger sister, Alexandra. Angry at a world that should have protected her but didn’t, Alex chooses to disappear after TWS, leading Alex to go after her...with some help. Brucenat pre-relationship, OC/OC. 

SPINOFF: Untitled GotG Fic | Guardians of the Galaxy | Movie

Original plotline. Banished dragon princess meets Stark-worshipping Nova Corps officer. What could possibly go wrong? OC/OC. 

*The Amazing Spider-Man 2 | Movie

Operation: Glass Coffin | Operation: Glass Coffin | TV Miniseries

Original plotline. A very unstable Leila finally finds what she’s been looking for for her entire adult life: a way to erase her own memories. Only, it turns out, once her memories are gone, something else takes their place…

Untitled OGC/AoU interim fic | Untitled | Comic Series OR Graphic Novel

Original plotlines, or perhaps a series of plotlines. Steve and Leila grow closer as Leila helps with the search for Bucky, and Steve helps her recover from her ordeal from O:GC. 

Untitled AoU Fic | Avengers: Age of Ultron | Movie

*Ant-Man | Movie

-

PHASE 3

Domestic Politics | Show White and Captain America: Domestic Politics | Graphic Novel Series

Original plotline, or series of plotlines. Leila and Steve, the two worst equipped people to be in an adult relationship, figure it out together. 

SPINOFF: Untitled Defenders Fic | Daredevil | TV Series

The one where Leila’s former lackey goes head to head with Matt Murdock in more ways than one. Also, Matt has a sister, because I have a brand to maintain. OC/Matt/OC OR Matt/OC, Frank/OC, also Foggy/OC. 

Under Siege | Snow White: Under Siege | Movie

Original plotline. When the Sokovia Accords threaten to rip the Avengers apart, Leila sees one solution: legitimize SWORD as an intelligence agency by stopping a war between two small but significant European countries. Easier said than done when two fugitive ex-Hydra assets get involved. 

*Doctor Strange | Movie

Everything is the same except the Ancient One is played by Dichen Lachman.

SPINOFF: Untitled GotG2 Fic | Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 2 | Movie

SPINOFF: Untitled Alex Fic | Untitled | TV Series OR Graphic Novel Series OR Comic Series

In the aftermath of the Under Siege debacle, Alex is one of the Avengers who is able to escape going into hiding. Instead she has her own adventures, from assisting Tony Stark with missions to mentoring Peter Parker and his friends. 

SPINOFF: Untitled Luna and Haven Fic | Untitled | TV Series OR Graphic Novel Series OR Comic Series

The one where Peter Parker falls in love with former villain Haven Hendrix, and Luna Li falls in love with current villain Harry Osborn. 

Untitled Cap 3 Fic | Captain America: Insurgence | Movie

Original Plotline. Serpent Squad maybe? Mostly character driven more than plot driven. 

SPINOFF: Family Business | Black Widow: Family Business | Movie

Technically corresponds to Black Widow (2020). Since in the MMCU it’s the second BW movie, it would have a subtitle.

SPINOFF: Dancing With Our Hands Tied | Thor: Ragnarok | Movie/Graphic Novel

A large part of this fic takes place in the six week gap between Loki and Thor’s arrivals on Sakaar. (In canon, it was three weeks; here, it’s six.) As a result, Alex would be present in the movie, and what happened between her and Loki would mostly be told through implications in the movie, until the graphic novel came out and explored those six weeks more thoroughly. 

*Black Panther | Movie

*Ant-Man and the Wasp | Movie

Untitled IW Fic | Avengers: Infinity War | Movie

Untitled IW/EG Interrim Fic(s) | Untitled | Comics

A lot can happen in five years. 

Untitled EG Fic | Avengers: Endgame | Movie

Daylight | Snow White and Captain America: Daylight | Comic

Just a oneshot or two covering Steve and Leila’s Happily Ever After. 

Other Story Elements

There are other stories here that I’m not sure what to call or how to structure. I want to explore the Avengers Academy that eventually gets established after Endgame; the aftermath of Endgame for Loki and Alex; Bucky and Anya’s eventual own HEA; Jace Barton’s character arc and romance with Pietro Maximoff; and a few other post-EG plotlines. I’ll keep reworking this outline as needed. In other words, this is very much a work in progress, but it’s what I have right now. The main Leila/Steve storyline is largely in tact, it’s just other characters that I’m still ironing out.

[thegeminisage]

hey liz i've been thinking a lot about story structure lately and i wanted your take on how you decide what structure your stories will have? i know there's that "you have to do what your story needs and tells you to do" thing but these bitches dont ever tell me anything they just multiply so. thoughts? - bma

(as an aside, i don't know whether involving medium would change many things but it may be worth considering. mainly i think medium is just a matter of arrangement and that the story would be for most intents and purposes the same no matter how you choose to tell it. i guess you could argue that structure is arrangement in itself and intrinsically tied to medium but i sort of feel like it is secondary arrangement, if at all? like if you consider time as an element to outline -- the time IN the story (how things happen to your characters) is not necessarily the time you’re telling the story IN (how you are telling your reader that things are happening) aka internal chronology doesnt equal your work’s pacing? or should it??? does this make sense? i dont think so. i am sorry.) - bma :|

NOOO dont be sorry ur making total sense

i think there’s 3 thots to unpack here (medium, structure, & chronology) & i’m gonna start with medium bc it’s easier. im also putting it behind a cut bc it’s gonna get just stupidly long and rambly. i’m sorry in advance if it’s not helpful to you, i have a lot to say for someone who has never taken even one single class on writing and as a result doesn’t know jack shit (there’s a tl;dr at the end dont worry)

about MEDIUM: 

so like ok i’m just some goof-off with a HS degree who writes fanfiction but In My Very Super Qualified Personal Opinion, i don’t think that most of the time medium is intrinsically tied to STRUCTURE of the main storytelling arc...i think the art of storytelling itself is distinct from the medium you choose to tell the story IN. this post puts it better than i ever could but basically for me, i feel like the story itself is sort of the raw, malleable concept, and the medium you choose to tell it in is how you convey the information??

like in a book, you can say “she forgot her keys” and in a film you have to show her smacking her forehead, heading back into the house, and swiping her keeps off the counter. you can’t TELL in film, you have to show. similarly i regret every day i cannot perfectly describe a facial expression with words when i see it so clearly in my head. for audio-only podcasts that are dialogue heavy out of necessity you have different limitations than you would for, say, animated music videos with no dialogue at all. games allow for more interactivity and exploration while sacrificing accessibility, tv shows allow for more length while sacrificing, uh, a big hollywood budget...medium affects the kind of story you can reasonably tell which is why some stories are better suited to one medium than another. i think trying things in other mediums is a good way to stretch your storytelling muscles but with enough skill nearly any story could be told in any medium. i think when trying to decide on a medium you just gotta weigh the pros & cons and what you feel comfortable with/what you think would be most effective/what would evoke the strongest reaction

re: structure:

firstly “do what the story tells u to do” is a little silly like...the story isn’t sentient. come on. that’s like “i can only write when the writing gods inspire me” there are no writing gods! inspire yourself! it’s all in our weird messed up brains! ok anyway.

this is, again, just how i do things, and i am 700% self-taught so take it with a grain of salt, but when i sit down and start blocking out a story from scratch i don’t...actually consider the big structure at all! sorry if that’s not helpful to you. i like to make a list of everything i want to happen, and then put it together in a few different orders to see what looks best. and when i’m finished, whatever i have just like...IS the structure i go with, with perhaps minor tinkering to make it flow more smoothly. (i think this might be in the same spirit as “do what the story tells you” with less bullshit and more Agency Of The Writer.)

for long and more complex projects, i actually usually have several lists - one list of stuff that is, for example, the Action Plot (the kingdom has been cursed, i’m tracking down my serial killer sister to bring her to justice, i’m running from djinn who wanna kill my dad, i’m trying to bring my dead not-boyfriend back to life). then i have another list for Character A & Character B’s romance or whatever. and maybe a even another one for solo character development (magicphobic prince learns to love magic, former werewolf hunter figures out his family is a cult, half-demon learns to embrace his own nature). and as many lists as we need for however many Main Characters and or Plots/Sideplots

how i order the lists: individually first. don’t mix them together to start with. when deciding the order of an individual list i like to, for example in a romance arc, use escalating intimacy. “A and B have dinner together” is naturally gonna go way sooner than “A and B kiss” or “A and B talk about A’s angsty backstory” because that’s more satisfying. draw it out, good/important stuff last, dangle that carrot so we have a reason to keep reading! for singular character development, it’s basically a straightforward point A to point B...if i want my guy to start hating magic with everything he is and end up being very comfortable with it, i have to put “reluctantly uses magic to save his own life” WAYYY before “casually using magic to light torches and reheat his cold stew.” 

the tricky part for me is when i’m done with these lists and then i need to mix them together To Pace My Whole Story. (this is usually why i wind up with a rainbow colored spreadsheet.) i don’t like to put too many things too close together because then the pace feels uneven. even if my Action Plot is only a thinly veiled excuse for romance and character development, i still don’t want to focus on a romance for 30,000 words and then go “and oh yeah in case you forgot Serial Killing Sister is still coming for your asses.” the more sideplots and major character arcs you’re juggling the harder it is to get an even distribution, which is my main concern always

and like, generally, whatever i have when i’m finished...is my structure. (sorry.) 

i don’t know much about the classic 3-act or anything like that, but i usually can divide them up into 3-5 big arcs based on story turning points. sometimes i take a scene out of one arc and put it in another because it fits better and i like for my shit to be organized, but usually by the time i’m finished with all that, that’s what the final story is mostly gonna look like. (there have been a few exceptions when i realized i needed extra scenes/changes while i was MID-DRAFT and let me tell you that murders me EVERY time. it happened on the merlin fic i’m currently posting and that was like my own personal hell.)

this is also where thots about chronology come in:

i think time CAN be an element of this if you WANT it to be, but it doesn’t HAVE to be. if you want it to be, i would consider it just another “list” like character development or the romance arc. 

i usually plot without considering Time very much...to me, it’s all down to the events you want to show, and however much time it takes is the byproduct. if you want to show something from a character’s chilhood but then tell the bulk of it when they’re adults, that’s one thing. if you want to show a scene from their childhood, teenhood, young adulthood, etc, that’s a different kind of pacing?? i usually do it this way so i can regard time like wordcount: it takes as long as it takes. 3 days or 3 years, a 1.5k drabble or a 100k epic...overall, my LARGEST CONCERN is that even distribution. in the same way that i don’t want one chapter to be 30,000 words when the rest are 10,000 words, i personally am not a fan of huge timeskips offscreen

(because this where i think someone’s own internal chronology DOES matter...this is just a personal preference, as a reader i have a hard time really comprehending, say, a year timeskip or a 10yr timeskip when all i did was turn one page. like, a year is such a long time. i can’t even begin to describe how different i am now to how i was a year ago. it’s the same for character development. time IS development and as a writer i’m not really comfortable having that take place offscreen - for main characters, at least. it’s just too jarring. a little prologue with something happening 10 or 20 years ago is usually fine, but for the most part, i’m not a fan. ...i can do one chapter per year a lot easier than i can do two chapters in childhood and the other 8 in adulthood. of course you can play with this a LOT with nonlinear storytelling, which is a whole other very cool thing, and someone skilled in their work can keep me sucked in no matter what, but imo if you don’t want to risk throwing your reader out of your work it’s better to keep things steady)

HOWEVER sometimes time IS an element u wanna consider outside of just making sure your shit is evenly distributed...if your heart is moved to tell a story in a specific timeframe, over a year, or from solstice to solstice (this was almost the timeline for my merlin fic and then i changed it), for the first six months of a friendship, or even a huge journey in the span of a single day (toby fox had a lot of success with this one lol).

i think it can help to choose a start and end point for your chronology the same way you do for character development (prince goes from hating magic to being ok with it, story takes place from ages 8 to 25, or from new year’s eve 2038 to 2039, whatever) - that way you can keep your distribution even, if that’s a thing you want to do...even if you have a lot of skips you can still note what happens offscreen to make it work better in your head? like, if you just make it another List, another column on your spreadsheet, when you’re in the early stages of organizing you can be conscious of it and make sure it’s playing into the story the way you want it to

anyway these r my thots im SOOOO SORRY this is so long lmao. brain machine broke today which is why i had to ramble more to explain myself. the tl;dr in case ur brain is melting out of ur ears & u didn’t sign up for an essay:

imo medium is totally distinct from storytelling tho ofc some stories are better suited to some mediums

structure? i don’t know her. i plot w/o regard to structure and then if it looks funny i mush it into a more structurally sound shape

my main concern when structuring anything, including time, is an even distribution of Events and a steady rate of escalation

structure to me is just what i have when i’m finished plotting. i’m sorry one day i’m gonna take a writing class

internal chronology matters to me personally because i have a little bit of time blindness but maybe not to everyone, i know many very successful stories where they disregarded that entirely to no ill effect

writer’s block isn’t real! everyone just needs more rainbow spreadsheets

thank u for asking I HOPE i didn’t make you regret it too badly lmao and that at least a little of it was helpful!! 

[heyktula]

Closer, Chapter Four: Kink - Bonus Features

Chapter four of Closer, the first installment in Somewhere in Canada (the Terror kink AU)... is now up! It's a plot-heavy chapter! There's some platonic kink! There's the plot to an entirely different story if you squint!

Technical notes first, story notes after, line notes to finish it all up.

Alright, here we go.

Technical Considerations:

Chapter Titles: So I didn't have any particular chapter titles in mind when I started this story. The original structure I'd planned for was one chapter for Friday, one for Saturday, one for Sunday, with Jopson POV at the very beginning of chapter one, and then again at the very end of three.

Obviously, uh, there was too much story for that to fly. So I cut it where I needed to cut it, and swapped my structure to have Jopson POV at the beginning of every chapter (and bonus Jopson POV at the end of the chapter). So I needed five chapter titles. First I couldn't think of anything good, and then it occurred to me that I could name four of them after the RACK acronym (Risk Aware Consensual Kink), and then it was super fascinating from a storytelling perspective because of the way the chapters lined up. Like, Risk deals with the risks that Edward didn't take because he totally ducks out of talking to Jopson that first night. Aware covers them starting to know each other. Consensual covers the dungeon scene, Kink covers platonic kink, and also the very normal way that both of them have integrated kink into their regular lives, and how it leads to these intimacies that are normal for them, but would be strange from a vanilla perspective or in a vanilla relationship. And then, finally, since I needed a fifth chapter title, Aftercare seemed like the obvious solution, which cracks me up because the entire chapter is, uh, well. I mean, it's aftercare for them. But yeah.

Mornings: So I wanted the structure of this fic to be all chronological in order--ie, no re-covering events that have already happened from someone else's POV within the same fic. (The Tozer/Irving fic, obviously, will be covering many of the same events, but it'll be different enough that it won't matter.) Which led to an icky bit for me, because I split the chapters differently than I anticipated (see above), and needed to start the day out with Jopson-POV even though I already had this lovely Little-POV drafted out.

Thankfully, Jopson came in for the win with that one, because he's a morning person, and Ned isn't, and their alarms were set for different enough times that I could go right from Jopson's wakeup to Ned's wakeup without having to retread the same information or the same section of the day (technically, there's a small chronological overlap, I think Jopson is probably eating breakfast when Little is trying to resurrect himself from his bed, but I've decided I Don't Care).

The Three Bears' Bed: This is such a smol technical note, but I wanted to bring it up because it's one of the really fun things that you can do with deep POV. It's implied (and confirmed in the next chapter) that Jopson and Edward are in essentially identical hotel rooms. But if you squint--they both describe their beds very differently. Jopson's bed is "too big", ie, he clearly sleeps on a single at home, and it's probably not as nice as the hotel bed. Edward's bed, a carbon copy of the queen bed Jopson is sleeping in, is "too small", ie, he's clearly got a king-sized monstrosity for himself back at home. I absolutely live for these kinds of things that are literally too minor to be noticed (nor should they be, they're meant to fade into the background), but which communicate so much about the characters.

(Ah, god, there's going to be so much adjusting for them to do in London. Their lives are very, very different. Jopson is starting to clue in, and he's going to have to sit with that once he has a clear head and lets all the subconscious stuff he's been picking up on actually gel together. Right now, he's very much in the 'whoa that looks expensi--hooooly fuck Ned Little is hot' phase. He'll have a Moment in London, though, where he'll sit bolt upright in his single bed and go wait a minute he put fifties in the donation bin when I blacked his boots and didn't even blink, he just casually throws large denomination bills* around.)

*I grew up low income, and I never carry anything bigger than a twenty in my wallet. People who are used to having more money, in my experience, tend to carry larger bills in their wallets. I know a fifty isn't actually a large denomination bill, but it is when you aren't used to carrying that kind of money around. Fifties make me tense until I break them. If I have a hundred, it's because someone gifted it to me, and I am gonna stress about it until I get it to the bank to deposit. Twenties are good for me, thanks.

Story Considerations:

Jopson's Work Ethic: Jopson's work ethic is in full force here, and I love to see it. I also love to see how firm he is about not hiding it. Like, Blanky understands how rare it is for Jopson to find someone he connects with the way he connects with Nedward, and was perfectly willing to skip the dungeon* to give Jopson another go at it. But Jopson, at some point, has transitioned from 'perfect, a weekend hookup' to 'perfect, I would like Ned in my life always'. (Gonna guess it was that post blowjob cuddle-nap that tipped it over, to be perfectly honest.) And Jopson knows that for Ned to be in his life always, Jopson needs to be realistic with him about what his life actually looks like--so he's going to work the long hours that he usually works, and he's going to run Blanky's booth so that Blanky can head to the dungeon tonight, and when Edward asks to be told literally anything about Jopson's life, Jopson moves immediately to telling Ned about his job.

(You'll note that Jopson has a schedule for working in the morning, the afternoon, and also the evening, ie, decidedly more than an eight hour day/forty hour work week. He did not mention that he frequently goes to Terror, and then shows back up at three am to do more work in a haze of subspace, but I'm sure he'll get around to it.)

I think it's important to Jopson that Edward accept him as he is--that is, no arguing about what comes first (it's work), or what Jopson's priorities are (also work), or how much availability Jopson has for a relationship (all of it...after work). So in that sense, this is pretty much a trial by fire--Jopson is saying 'look, this is what my life is like, and if you fit, you can stay', and Edward, in turn, is saying 'please just let me sit next to you, I like it here'. (I'm sure Tozer would be irritable about Edward's changed loyalties if he weren't currently sorting out, you know, every bad decision he made the previous night).

*This is not a Blanky-specific thing. If Esther were here instead, she and Jopson would have the same arrangement. I think either Blanky or Esther would be equally fun to play with, don't you?

Duty and Responsibility: I also love the differing approaches to duty and responsibility, as displayed by Joplittle--Edward talks, multiple times, about his duties and responsibilities here as something that he needs to shoulder, like it's a too-heavy pack that he's hauling around behind him when he would really rather just pull the covers over his head and stay there. Jopson, however, is thriving under his.

I would posit that, perhaps, if Edward managed to distance himself further from Hickey's bullshit, that maybe his responsibilities wouldn't suck so much. But for Edward to get away from Hickey's bullshit, that would mean Tozer would also have to put his foot down, and Tozer has been ambivalent about doing that, so far.

Sadomasochism, and the ‘Gold-Star’ Dom: Oh, Edward, my sweetheart, my dear, you have a track record of dating terrible people, and hanging out with people who kinkshame you, and I am so sorry that it's come to this.

There's this really fascinating (by which I mean it's incredibly toxic) culture difference between old guard spaces and the "newer" spaces. For people Francis' age who grew up in old guard leather kink scenes, they would have come up in the scene submitting first, and then either continuing to submit, or transitioning into being a dominant as they gained experience. However, for newer spaces--and here, I'm talking about something that was starting to happen for people around Fitzjames' age--there started to be a shift toward just doing one or the other*. By the time we get to people in the same age range as Little**, Tozer, and Jopson, the emphasis on picking one or the other is much more prominent. You should 'know' your orientation when you enter the scene--and then that's typically where you stay. There's no requirement for a dom to have ever subbed--and there's no requirement for doms to be familiar with the business end of their implements either. (If I had a dollar for every talk I'd been to where a dom was proud that they've never actually tested gear on themselves, I would have a lot of dollars.)

This leaves Little in an awkward spot--he's got no interest in submitting (as per the way he nopes out of any sort of cuffs or protocol with James Clark Ross), but, unlike Tozer, who tolerates getting hit in the context of fighting but doesn't particularly like it, Little actively enjoys the pain of getting hit. Based on how awkwardly he discloses that to Jopson, we can infer (correctly) that it's gone down badly in previous hookups.

(The general stereotype that dominant-sadist-top*** and submissive-masochist-bottom are one scale instead of, you know, three different scales, is not helping Ned at all here.)

So Ned is in this spot as a sadomasochist dom where he's had a hard time finding a partner that is willing to accept that he has a masochist streak as well. Enter Jopson...

*I think, though I'm not sure, that part of this shift was kink culture moving into the straight scene as well. Heterosexual kink tends to avoid the formalized learning process, and focus strictly on I Have Always Been A Dom.

**For the purposes of kink!AU, I'm going with approximate show ages for everyone--I think I saw somewhere that historically, Little was older than Fitzjames--but I'm going with an older Fitzjames and a younger Little here, for Fitzier Reasons.

***Note that I’m talking about top and bottom in a BDSM sense here--the one who wields the flogger vs the one who has the flogger used on them. The penetrator/penetratee during intercourse is an entirely separate thing, which....you guessed it....is also unrelated to the above-mentioned scales.

Service: Jopson thrives when he's engaged in acts of service. I really loved working with the translation of canon-to-kink!Jopson, because it's really fascinating to dig into how those canon aspects of his personality translate. Like, the long hours as a steward translate directly to the long hours that he works for Francis. But those acts of service translate really easily into submission as well. (I would posit that, for people who pursue more 'lifestyle' kink as opposed to 'bedroom-only' kink, there's a great chance that they'll pursue jobs that play to those strengths.)

The particular benefit to this that's working in Ned's favour here is that Jopson loves nothing more than to arrange things for people to make sure they have what they need. So this intersects perfectly with Ned's typical methods for managing his top drop--if Jopson can leverage his connections to make sure that Ned has access to people that will let him bottom-but-not-submit for them when he needs it, well, that's a win for both of them.

(I would hazard a guess, if you squinted, that Ned is sexually monogamous, and generally dates other monogamous people, which sometimes makes the negotiation of play with other people outside the dyad a non-starter. I would also guess that Jopson wouldn't consider monogamy to be a particular value of his, and so anything he can do to make sure Ned is looked after is perfect for him.)

Top Drop: Pretty much any kink conference that even slightly touches on educational aspects will have a talk about subdrop, typically led by a sub or a panel of subs, or sometimes by a dom/sub pair, discussing how to properly care for one's sub, how to deal with subdrop, and all those coping kinds of mechanisms. I can guarantee Edward has attended a number of those talks, written at least one blog post, and probably could speak on it if you really bullied him into it.

Those same conferences typically do not talk about top drop. I've been to lots of talks on sub drop. I've only ever been to one on top drop, and it was so horribly done that we’re still talking about it years later. Even googling when I was brushing up on my research for this fic didn't give me much.

Anyways, it's good that Jopson works for Crozier, who treats drop as something that can happen to anyone regardless of position. In turn, this means Jopson is able to recognize it happening to Ned, and will just merrily bulldoze and/or gently bully Ned until he gets the information he needs to be able to help.

RACK and SSC: Ah, look, it's the author picking a pedantic fight in the middle of their fic using their POV character as a mouthpiece. SO. When I was first getting into kink in the early two thousands, SSC (Safe, Sane, Consensual) was the name of the game. It essentially means that the activities you do under the BDSM umbrella should fit all three of those criteria.

The issue that I and many others have with the acronym is that it doesn't particularly fit that well for a lot of the activities in BDSM. After all, what's really safe? You can trip walking down the same stairs that you've walked down every day of your life if your shoelace is loose, or if your ankle goes weird, or if you're just not paying attention. What's sane? No, really, what is it? What defines sane? Should we be using mental health terms to determine whether or not something is a good idea? What's the opposite of 'sane' in this context?

(I'm not gonna bicker about consensual, obviously, that one I still hold to.)

How do you practice edge play under SSC? Can you safely punch someone? Is it sane to do so? (God, I hate the inclusion of 'sane' in the acronym so much.) Can you consent to something that doesn't fit the first two criteria? If you decide an activity fits all three criteria, does that guarantee nobody gets hurt? (Absolutely not.)

So, there's a shift in the scene to use RACK instead--Risk Aware Consensual Kink. RACK is more focused on assessing the risks to specific activities, and consenting to do those activities even though the risk exists. You can definitely punch someone under RACK--because RACK supposes that you've discussed the risks of punching them, you're both doing your best to manage those risks, and you've both consented to the activity while recognizing that it’s inherently risky to do it and you’ve taken as many precautions as you can.

Sir John 'actually the expedition is outfitted for seven years and we don't need any rescue' Franklin is clearly focused on SSC, with an emphasis on no further risk assessments once a particular activity is deemed to be safe. This isn't to say that everyone who practices SSC ignores possible risks--but it is to say that the acronym doesn't encourage active risk assessment the same way that RACK does. (Doing X is safe, therefore, I don’t think about the risks while I do X, because it’s safe.) I personally think that RACK is a more robust way to assess kink activities, but, as you can probably infer from, you know, the entirety of this fic, I take part in a lot of activities that don't fit under SSC, so I'm biased.

I do not blame Edward one bit for getting into that argument with Sir John. I do feel pretty certain that Blanky surreptitiously filmed it, though, so that he can send it to Francis. I also am pretty sure that Francis’ own stance on RACK, which comes through pretty clearly in his books, would have informed Edward’s stance as well, so, you know, full circle there. (Do you have any idea how many people you’ve informally mentored via your books, Francis? It’s *cough*JamesFitzjamesAlso*cough* a lot.)

Florentine Flogging: Here's the reference video I was using for Florentine flogging! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CGCQGsxbwtw

Sharp eyes will notice that this is a very similar skillset to spinning poi, which I thought was really neat.

Line Notes:

Jopson will be back in six months to give his talk, and Edward is going to be right there in the front row to support him, and that means that nothing can go wrong this weekend.

It...doesn't actually mean that. I mean, obviously, yes, not being banned from Canada is a requirement. But not having the booth open wouldn't have killed anybody.

Irving dragged you home—please advise how, he’s half your size?

This is funnier once I did some googling and realized that Ronan Raftery is six goddamn feet tall, which makes him two inches taller than Matthew McNulty, but I decided to let Edward's inaccuracies stand because they're pretty goddamn funny. Also, I maintain that Irving gives off smol energy.

“Oh, good,” Irving says, the tension instantly melting off his face. “I’m so glad he made it to bed.”

Tozer did not make it to bed, but, tbh, I wouldn't correct Irving at this particular moment either. Especially not in front of Lady Jane Franklin.

“Who’s this, then?” Lady Franklin asks. She’s wearing a vintage dress from a decade Edward should probably recognize, but doesn’t. (Jopson would, he’s sure of it.)

The 1950s, Edward. It's literally the most easily recognizable decade.

“…he’s fine,” Edward says, more confused than ever.

Edward, Edward, Edward. Both more confused than ever--and completely unwilling to do any followup on this whatsoever, because why ask questions when instead you could eyefuck Jopson. (In a sense, though, this is Tozer's problem, so Edward's ability to disconnect from it completely is probably an improvement from, say, Edward of a few years ago.) Normally, leaving plot threads hanging like this would bother me extensively, but because I'm drafting the Tozer/Irving fic as we speak, I'm comfortable just letting all of this just hang for a bit. These plot threads are important to include because they happened, but they're not important to resolve, because Edward doesn't give a shit.

Nothing fancy—just Ned, with a little handwritten squiggle next to it that’s almost a heart, if you squint.

It's definitely a heart. Jopson just channeled the patented Francis Crozier technique of 'if I make a vague line here, people can interpret it how they want'. Not very characteristic of Jopson--but, as we discussed last week, poor boy is carting around some baggage re: his affection, so we’ll just let him have this.

It’s probably the goddamn bruise from yesterday’s fuckup. Well, that, and the fact that Tozer isn’t there. Or maybe Edward’s just fucking up something else that he’s completely unaware of.

I'd like to propose option four, which is that Edward is hot as fuck, dressed in leather, and was part of a scene that gathered a respectfully distant crowd in the dungeon the night previous. Edward is not aware that option four is an option, but I would like to reassure him that option four is, in fact, an option.

“What do you do for aftercare?” Jopson asks curiously. “Like—what did you do last night, after you walked me home?”

Bold of Jopson to assume that Edward spent two seconds looking after himself. (He won't make that mistake again--Edward's blog entry on aftercare was detailed enough that last-night!Jopson made the endorphin-blurred call that Edward had his own routine sorted, and is now finding out that Edward has no such thing.)

Edward sighs, starts to mentally assemble an apology. He’s done it again—let his guard down, said too much. The apology has never worked in the past. But he’ll have to try. There’s always a chance Edward will get it right this time, even though he’s not remotely ready for this (it was going so well), but he has to, he has to start, he’ll just—he’ll start by—saying—

In true Ed Little fashion, Edward is assuming that the reason this conversation has never gone well in the past is because of him, instead of the more rational suggestion that perhaps he's just trying to hook up with people who aren't actually compatible with him.

Jopson’s face is very pink. “Quite the mental image,” he says. He swallows, visibly. “You and Tozer were, uh. Both holding back during the demo yesterday, then.”

Ah, yes, the look and sound of a man who is rather quickly realizing that a wank fantasy he'd watched unfold in real time yesterday was actually just the tip of the iceberg.

Jopson’s eyebrows shoot up. “Why?” He scrunches his nose, frowns. “Was that meant to be a joke?”

Can't get all sad about Edward's past of attempting to have relationships with people he wasn't compatible with until we also get sad about Jopson's history, which apparently includes men he thought were tapping into his fantasies, only to find out that they were kidding. Ouch, my heart.

“Only if you want,” Jopson adds. “We could also, um. Go for a run?”

I don't believe that Jopson has ever gone for a run in his entire life. I appreciate that he's trying to help, though. That's very kind of him.

Jopson turns. “Hi, yes.”

Jopson cannot let a customer go unserviced, and I, for one, admire his dedication to looking after other people's booths as well as his own. I also think, although this action here is entirely instinctual, it's also a good checkpoint--had Edward reacted poorly to Jopson stepping in, well, that might not have been awesome. As it is, Edward is grateful, so he just keeps landing in Jopson's long-term prospect box.

“You know that huge guy they have on security?”

It's Tuunbaq! Also, Tozer should cool it on the whole "he doesn't speak English" thing, because it's not like Tozer speaks Inuktitut. (And while we're talking about Tozer, yes, he is wearing the equivalent of his mutineer hoodie.)

“And I’m like, yeah, I know him, I was drinking with him last night. And they just look at me. And they look at each other. And then the doctor guy is like ‘we had some concerning reports about his behaviour’, but I don’t know who would have said anything, the only other person there was Irving. Fuck, man, I was answering questions for an hour.”

Tozer, look, buddy. You can have a pass because you're as hungover as shit and I'm sure you've been contemplating death since you woke up, but you answered your own question there. The only other person there was Irving.

The only other person there was Irving.

One would hope that this might, you know, cause you to rethink your association with Hickey, considering that someone else's assessment of his behaviour has resulted in all of this, but I guess we'll have to chill on that for now until we get some Tozer POV.

Edward frowns. “He doesn’t drink?”

Pulled this bit directly from canon, and because I also think it's a fascinating bit of character development. Adam Nagaitis had such insights into his character in the AMC interview (https://www.amc.com/shows/the-terror/talk/2018/04/the-terror-qa-adam-nagaitis-cornelius-hickey) and I really think it's interesting working with that in a modern AU as well. So--this version of Hickey doesn't drink either. I think it's also interesting in how Edward and Tozer deal with this--Edward has known Hickey for years, and never noticed. Tozer knows--and still gets shitfaced anyways, even though he's drinking alone.

Tozer’s eyes go distant. “It’s the weirdest thing,” he says after a moment. “I think I told Irving about Heather.”

We can assume, for better or for worse, that Tozer's memory of last night is a bit spotty. I am sorry, though, that this is one of the things Tozer remembers. It's further away in kink!AU than it was in canon, but I don't imagine Heather's death was any easier for Tozer here than it was canonically.

(Also, the choreo of Tozer physically shifting Edward's hand off his arm was a late addition, and I hurt my own feelings adding it.)

Tozer raises his eyebrows, and then winces, goes back to squinting. “Hanky code,” he lectures. “Black is for S&M. Your proclivities aside, I don’t figure you meant to flag sub. And stuff it if you tell me it’s a fashion choice, I ain’t got headspace for that bullshit today.” He glances upward. “I swear they turned the fucking lights up in here, Jesus. I’ll see you after, I gotta go.”

Edward, you absolute himbo of a man. Jopson has been trying so hard, and I'm sure that you have a blog entry about hanky code buried somewhere back in your archive, but you also buried the information in your head, and thus did not access it, and all of Jopson's efforts were wasted.

“No, you misunderstand me,” Edward says. “I love that. Christ, the fuck did he finally do?”

Edward, Edward, Edward. Jopson has the right of it with his missing stair comment--but you're just as complicit as Tozer is in this, because by saying nothing and waiting for the problem to go away, you've been rubber-stamping Hickey's behaviour. I feel as though there's going to be Discussions about this in London.

“Honestly, Thomas, after all we’ve been through.” Sophia sighs, and then turns to face the table, braces her hands on the edge of it. “You know you can still call me Sophy.”

One of the things that really sucks about breakups is the part where there are ripples out into the rest of your social circle as well. I have the feeling that Jopson and Sophia might have gotten along really well--but Jopson's loyalties are with Francis, and so he's been pulling back since the most recent breakup in an effort to, you know, not hurt Francis any more than Francis is already hurt. I think it's significant that Edward is allowed to see this interaction, to be honest--because this is insight into who Jopson is as a person when he's not working or submitting.

Ross has a firm handshake, and a bright smile. He’s dressed casually—jeans, and a tshirt—and Edward feels horribly, awfully overdressed.

Edward is not appreciating casualdom!JCR nearly as much as I would like him to, and this is really, really upsetting me, because I would like to appreciate casualdom!JCR a lot.

I also really, really appreciated the opportunity to include some platonic kink here, because platonic kink is really important to me too. Sometimes you’re just in it for the experience, you know? And there’s no additional emotional or sexual connection there.

“Some kind of a multi-tailed flogger,” Edward says. “Little polished leather cord knots on the ends? Punches like a son of a—er, it’s a fairly sharp sting.”

Look, I wanted to include a reference picture for this. I did some googling. I like this style of flogger. But in the course of my googling, I found out that Walmart sells a twenty four dollar version of this in the states (I’ve since been informed it’s a third party seller BUT IT THREW ME OKAY), and I'm too Canadian to handle this, I can barely even handle American Walmarts selling alcohol, okay? So there's just. There's just no pictures. Anyways, good ball end floggers start at about two hundred Canadian, and they punch pretty fucking hard.

Good, Edward thinks. “So, the shower. I went up to the hotel room, figuring, ah. You know. Strip naked, step under the water, all that. And that’s what you should imagine, because I opened the door to our room, and...well, yeah. I’m here.”

Edward is going to need to update his dirty talk game, because this is Not Great, buddy. It's Not Great. And, let's be honest here. I'm sure you have years and years of filthy stories. You're going to need to learn how to tell them, because Jopson will appreciate and value every single one.

Phew. That's it for this week! Chapter five, Aftercare, goes up next Friday, and it is the very last chapter, can you believe. That's not it for this verse, though--I'm starting work on the Tozer/Irving story that runs parallel to this story. There's also a Fitzier that takes places in six months' time (during the winter conference). I have things to say about that Gore, Le Vesconte, and Cracroft situation. I have a story about Peglar and Bridgens. I might have some things to say about Goodsir. I could talk about Edward Little and Thomas Jopson until my tongue falls off. I just have a lot of feelings about kink, okay? And we're very lucky with The Terror because we have an extremely rich background of source material, both historical and tv show.

And if you have questions or anything in the meantime, you can always drop me an ask on tumblr or Curious Cat.

See you next week!

[forgenotes-archived]

VERONICA    ROSE    SAWYER    AND    THE    MUSIC    OF    ST    VINCENT    .    

word    count    :        3,006    . trigger    warnings    for    :        child    abuse    /    neglect    ,        depression    ,        self    harm    ,        suicide    ,        murder    .

there    are    a    few    points    that    i    will    be    ignoring    -        namely    ,        clarke’s    music    does    have    a    heavy    focus    on    catholicism    that    ronnie    ,        as    a    jewish    woman    ,        won’t    relate    to    necessarily    on    a    literal    level    .        i    might    purposely    misinterpret    some    of    the    more    catholic    songs    ,        but    for    the    most    part    ,        i’ll    just    .    .    .        skip    over    that    shit    ,        lol    .        

of    course    ,        not    every    song    of    hers    makes    perfect    sense    with    veronica    ,        but    there    are    a    substantial    amount    that    really    hit    home    for    characterization    purposes    .        i’ll    be    pretty    brief    about    them    mostly    due    to    the    fact    that    this    is    going    to    be    long    enough    but    !        

please    enjoy    a    massive    post    about    veronica’s    most    influential    muse    inspiration    ,        st    vincent    ,        and    how    each    song    sparks    a    different    facet    of    her    characterization    ,        personality    ,        and    history    .

  ALBUM    ONE    -        MARRY    ME    .

*** NOW ,  NOW .       this    song    is    one    of    five    songs    that    truly    cuts    to    the    very    core    of    veronica’s    persona    .        it    is    written    as    a    cutting    dismantlement    of    preconceived    notions    ;        and    while    that    in    a    general    sense    does    apply    to    her    ,        it    pulls    apart    as    a    particularly    embittered    attack    on    heather    chandler    .        with    the    deconstruction    of    her    worth    to    her    (    i’m    not    your    mother’s    favourite    dog    /    i’m    not    the    carpet    you    walk    on    /    i’m    not    the    feather    at    your    feet    /    i’m    not    the    paw    to    your    king    /    i’m    not    anyone    you’ll    beat    )    ,        it    harkens    to    her    rebellion    and    powerful    nature    that’s    been    crushed    under    heather’s    heel    .        the    chorus    and    final    lines    of    the    song    draw    perfect    parallels    to    her    and    heather’s    fight    at    the    party    ,        and    the    inevitable    death    -        you    don’t    mean    that    ,        say    you’re    sorry    /    i’ll    make    you    sorry    .    this    track    is    desperately    dramatically    perfectly    attached    to    my    interpretation    of    ronnie    .

*** YOUR LIPS ARE RED .        this    goes    along    almost    chronologically    with    above    -        this    song    is    about    murder    ,        explicitly    ;        and    by    god    does    that    ever    track    !        particular    lyrics    of    note    are    :        this    city’s    red    from    riding    us    into    the    ground    /    your    face    is    drawn    from    drawing    words    right    from    my    lips    /    my    hands    are    red    from    sealing    your    red    lips    /    your    skin’s    so    fair    ,        it’s    not    fair    .        the    narrative    of    the    song    leads    towards    a    crime    of    passion    ;        anger    and    hate    towards    someone    with    some    sort    of    power    over    them    ,        and    the    eventual    revenge    for    their    (    perceived    )    mistreatment    .        veronica    doesn’t    feel    as    bad    as    she    should    that    heather’s    gone    ;        a    part    of    her    feels    satisfied    ,        and    that’s    the    part    that    this    song    exemplifies    .

THE APOCALYPSE SONG .        embracing    the    carnal    nature    of    life    and    cutting    away    from    those    who    refuse    to    (    or    are    too    afraid    to    )    join    you    -        in    a    more    subdued    sense    ,        it’s    similar    to    what    veronica    does    in    cutting    loose    from    her    friends    ;        and    further    still    ,        ostracizing    herself    from    her    family    to    build    a    more    spectacular    life    for    herself    and    jason    .        important    lyrics    to    note    :        you’ll    awake    with    the    stitches    over    both    of    your    eyes    ,        and    deny    me    my    body    and    all    earthly    delights    /    i    guess    you    are    afraid    of    what    everyone    is    made    of    /    your    devotion    has    the    look    of    a    lunatic’s    gaze    .

LANDMINES .        in    terms    of    the    tragedy    of    the    beginnings    of    her    and    jason’s    relationship    -        when    he    spirals    into    the    worst    parts    of    his    plans    ,        she    is    desperate    to    try    and    lure    him    back    to    the    better    side    .        it’s    sadness    ,        it’s    hope    without    reason    ,        it’s    painful    .        important    lyrics    to    note    :        i’m    crawling    through    landmines    just    to    know    where    you    are    /    there’s    smoke    in    my    eyes    ,        ‘cause    you’re    burning    the    ground    /    i’m    crawling    through    landmines    -        i    know    ,        ‘cause    i    planted    them    /    under    cover    of    night    ,        i    put    my    heart    in    the    ground    /    where’d    you    go    ?    please    don’t    go    /    i    found    your    glove    with    the    leather    torn    ,        five    fingers    that    i’m    counting    on    ,        smoke    signals    to    call    you    right    here    .

  ALBUM    TWO    -        ACTOR    .

THE STRANGERS .        clarke    said    she’d    written    this    song    about    a    woman    who’s    spoiled    by    decadence    and    leisure    ,        but    is    desperately    sad    by    her    situation    .        which    ,        in    all    honesty    ,        fits    veronica    to    a    t    -        exhausted    by    the    picturesque    garden    ,        and    unwilling    to    continue    being    trimmed    to    fit    in    paradise    .        important    lyrics    to    note    :        lover    ,        i    don’t    play    to    win    ,        but    for    the    thrill    ‘till    i’m    spent    /    you    showed    up    with    a    black    eye    ,        ready    to    go    start    a    fight    /    desperate    don’t    look    good    on    you    ,        neither    does    your    virtue    /    paint    the    black    hole    blacker    .

THE NEIGHBOURS .        the    song    paints    a    picture    of    a    hatred    of    suburban    sedentary    lifestyles    ;        partial    arson    ,        partial    alcoholism    ,        all    very    accurate    to    the    way    ronnie    feels    being    stuck    in    sherwood    ohio    .        important    lyrics    to    note    :        let’s    pour    wine    in    coffee    cups    and    drive    around    the    neighbourhood    /    i    won’t    believe    not    a    word    you    speak    just    make    it    sweet    to    hear    /    these    kids    are    foaming    at    the    mouths    ,        psychotropic    capricorns    /    how    can    monday    be    alright    ,        then    on    tuesday    lose    my    mind    ? 

* BLACK RAINBOW .        this    is    a    portrait    of    one    person    in    their    isolation    of    an    elevated    comprehension    above    the    brainwashed    masses    of    average    american    life    -        the    loneliness    in    their    own    self    -    aggrandizing    thought    processes    ,        but    also    the    pangs    of    hopelessness    when    they    know    that    they’re    still    right    .        veronica    is    allowed    an    understanding    that    her    parents    and    these    remington    assholes    have    chosen    to    ignore    .        important    lyrics    to    note    :        think    i’m    glass    ,        think    i’m    breaking    it    /    let    the    children    act    like    furniture    for    the    ladies    of    the    lawn    /    unkissed    boys    and    girls    of    paradise    lining    up    around    the    block    /    back    pocket    full    of    dynamite    while    the    neighbours    talk    and    talk    /    bird    outside    the    kitchen    ,        fighting    his    reflection    ,        what’s    he    gonna    win    when    he    wins    ?    /    if    you    want    the    neighbours    woke    ,        you’ll    have    to    shout    even    louder    .

* LAUGHING WITH A MOUTH OF BLOOD .        clarke    has    described    this    song    as    a    balancing    act    between    the    pain    of    the    past    and    the    uncertainty    of    the    future    ,        and    the    desperation    that’s    found    when    those    two    roads    meet    .        ronnie’s    got    scars    she’s    healing    from    ,        but    she’s    also    got    no    idea    why    and    how    to    keep    on    living    afterwards    .        important    lyrics    to    note    :        just    like    an    amnesiac    ,        trying    to    get    my    senses    back    /    laughing    with    a    mouth    of    blood    from    a    little    spill    i    took    /    all    my    old    friends    aren’t    so    friendly    ,        and    all    my    old    haunts    are    now    haunting    me    /    i    can’t    see    the    future    but    i    know    it’s    watching    me    .

MARROW .        a    vague    song    ,        but    one    that    resonates    deeper    with    ronnie    than    she    expected    through    its    undertones    of    feeling    as    though    she’s    not    in    control    of    her    body    .        important    lyrics    to    note    :        i    wish    i    had    a    gentle    mind    and    spine    made    up    of    iron    /    mouth    connects    to    the    teeth    and    teeth    to    the    loves    and    the    curses    /    so    i    pretend    there    aren’t    ten    strings    tied    to    all    ten    of    my    fingers    .

THE PARTY .        a    dreamscape    of    a    song    that    touches    on    her    subtle    alcoholism    and    desperation    for    connections    that    never    come    .        veronica’s    coping    mechanisms    lead    her    into    bad    habits    in    order    to    make    connections    ,        but    ultimately    leave    her    completely    floundering    after    everything’s    over    .        important    lyrics    to    note    :        i’d    pay    anything    to    keep    my    conscience    clean    /    there    aren’t    enough    hands    to    point    all    the    fingers    /    i    lick    the    ice    cube    from    your    empty    glass    /    honey    ,        the    party    ,        you    went    away    quickly    /    i’ve    said    much    too    much    and    they’re    trying    to    sweep    up    .

* JUST THE SAME BUT BRAND NEW .        this    song    is    a    floating    heartbreak    ,        following    the    descent    into    depression    st    vincent    falls    into    after    losing    somebody    she    loves    -        did    she    do    something    wrong    ?        where    do    i    go    from    now    ?        how    do    i    fill    this    hole    in    my    heart    ?        veronica    feels    this    on    a    lesser    level    towards    her    friends    ,        however    few    she    may    have    had    ;        but    in    its    fullest    extent    after    jd    ,        because    despite    everything    (    fear    ,        pain    ,        abuse    )    ,        she    still    loves    him    for    what    she    thought    she    had    .        important    lyrics    to    note    :        so    i    walked    away    all    perfumed    ,        felt    just    the    same    but    brand    new    /    and    anything    you    wrote    i    checked    for    codes    and    clues    /    i    changed    my    ‘a’s    and    ‘i’s    to    yours    /    i    do    my    best    impression    of    weightlessness    now    too    /    i    might    be    wrong    ,        i    might    be    wrong    ,        i    might    be    wrong    ,        but    honey    i    believed    i    could    just    float    away    ,        dangling    .

  ALBUM    THREE    -        STRANGE    MERCY    .

* CHEERLEADER .        a    determined    cry    to    reject    the    role    being    forced    upon    her    ;        a    final    stand    to    shed    the    expectations    thrown    over    her    ,        while    also    reminiscing    on    how    these    constraints    have    forced    veronica    to    become    afraid    of    being    vulnerable    .           important    lyrics    to    note    :        i’ve    had    good    times    with    some    bad    guys    /    i’ve    told    whole    lies    with    a    half    smile    /    i    don’t    know    what    good    it    serves    ,        pouring    my    purse    in    the    dirt    /    i’ve    played    dumb    when    i    knew    better    /    i    don’t    know    what    i    deserve    ,        but    your    you    i    could    work    /    i    don’t    wanna    be    a    cheerleader    no    more    ,        i    don’t    wanna    be    a    dirt    eater    no    more    .

DILETTANTE .        a    brutal    cutting    slice    of    her    and    jason    dean’s    relationship    -        a    desire    to    stay    ,        but    a    desperation    to    bring    their    passion    back    down    to    earth    .        partially    a    love    song    ,        trying    to    preserve    their    fire    without    burning    up    ;        partially    a    lament    about    overcoming    the    fear    of    stagnation    .        important    lyrics    to    note    :        nobody’s    winning    ,        the    sharks    are    swimming    in    the    red    /    while    you    are    sleeping    ,        my    mind    goes    creaking    down    the    wall    /    slow    down    dilettante    so    i    can    limp    beside    you    ,        i’m    following    your    houndstooth    /    street    savant    ,        my    bank    in    my    back    pocket    ,        how    far   you    think    it’d    take    us    ?    /     but    let’s    not    forget    why    we    crawled    here    .

  ALBUM    FOUR    -        ST    VINCENT    .

* PRINCE JOHNNY .        this    is    the    second    song    in    a    trilogy    about    an    archetype    of    a    friend    clarke    has    named    “    johnny    ”    -        this    particular    angle    focuses    on    the    helpless    desperation    to    stop    someone    you    care    about    from    falling    down    a    dangerous    ,        self    -    destructive    path    .        in    veronica’s    eyes    ,        jason    is    her    prince    johnny    .        important    lyrics    to    note    :        prince    johnny    ,        you’re    kind    but    you’re    not    simple    ,        by    now    ,        i    think    i    know    the    difference    /    saw    you    pray    to    all    to    make    you    a    real    boy    /    prince    johnny    ,        you’re    kind    ,        but    do    be    careful    /    don’t    mistake    my    affection    for    another    spit    -    and    -    penny    style    redemption    /    i    wanna    mean    more    than    i    mean    to    you    .

DIGITAL WITNESS .        a    cutting    dialogue    on    the    desperation    for    popularity    ;        in    modern    day    ,        it’s    a    critique    of    social    media    and    societal    pressures    ,        but    in    terms    of    veronica’s    timeline    ,        it    doubles    as    a    light    on    westerburg’s    obsession    with    their    queen    bees    .        important    lyrics    to    note    :        i    want    all    of    your    mind    /    if    i    can’t    show    it    ,        if    you    can’t    see    me    ,        what’s    the    point    of    doing    anything    ?    /    this    is    no    time    for    confessing    /    if    you    can’t    see    me    ,        watch    me    jump    right    off    the    london    bridge    /    get    back    to    your    stare    ,        i    care    ,        but    i    don’t    care    /    what’s    the    point    of    even    sleeping    ?        so    i    stop    sleeping    /    won’t    somebody    sell    me    back    to    me    ?

REGRET .        a    self    -    explanatory    song    ,        in    all    reality    ;        you    are    afraid    to    move    ,        and    your    anxiety    keeps    you    away    from    opportunity    -        before    you    even    realize    you’ve    wasted    your    potential    ,        you’re    doomed    .        veronica    is    trapped    in    a    vicious    cycle    that    won’t    allow    her    to    spread    her    wings    ;        fear    begets    fear    ,        and    life    moves    on    without    her    .        important    lyrics    to    note    :        memories    so    bright    i    gotta    squint    just    to    recall    /    regret    the    words    i’ve    bitten    more    than    the    ones    i    ever    said    /    i’m    afraid    of    heaven    because    i    can’t    stand    the    heights    /    i’m    afraid    of    you    because    i    can’t    be    left    behind    /    oh    well    ,        there’s    a    red    moon    rising    /    the    door    slammed    and    it    felt    like    a    cannonball    .

  ALBUM    FIVE    -        MASSEDUCTION    .

SUGARBOY .        a    mashup    of    a    love    song    and    an    ode    to    vicious    bisexuality    ;        a    heart    that    is    sharp    and    easy    to    slice    yourself    open    on    ,        but    a    reciprocal    appreciation    of    the    danger    that    comes    with    falling    for    someone    .        ronnie’s    sugarboy    is    jason    ;        but    she    also    learns    to    acknowledge    that    she    wouldn’t    have    minded    finding    a    sugargirl    ,        either    .    important    lyrics    to    note    :        sugarboy    ,    i    am    weak    ,        got    a    crush    on    tragedy    /    oh    here    i    go    -        a    tragedy    ,        hanging    off    from    the    balcony    /    making    a    scene    ,        oh    here    i    am    ,        your    pain    machine    /    sugargirl    ,        dissolve    in    me    ,        got    a    crush    from    kicked    -    in    teeth    /    pledge    all    your    allegiance    to    me    /    i    am    a    lot    like    you    ,        i    am    alone    like    you    .

* LOS AGELESS .        again    -        a    mashup    of    a    love    song    ,        and    a    loss    of    all    autonomy    .        what    have    you    lost    ;        a    lover    ,        or    your    sense    of    self    ?        veronica’s    lost    both    ,        and    she    doesn’t    know    what    else    to    do    but    fall    into    the    ease    of    her    prison    position    ,        following    the    orders    of    someone    who    claims    to    know    better    than    she    does    .        important    lyrics    to    note    :        burn    the    pages    of    unwritten    memoires    ,        but    i    can    keep    running    /    but    how    can    i    leave    ?        i    just    follow    the    hood    of    my    car    /    how    can    anybody    have    you    and    lose    you    and    not    lose    their    mind    ,        too    ?    /    i    guess    that’s    just    me    ,        honey    -        i    guess    that’s    how    i’m    built    /    i    try    to    tell    you    i    love    you    ,        but    it    comes    out    all    sick    /    i    try    to    write    you    a    love    song    ,        but    it    comes    out    a    lament    .

SLOW DISCO .        finding    yourself    in    the    crowd    of    a    party    ,        but    not    liking    who    you    see    -        a    contrast    between    the    life    you    should    be    living    ,        and    the    life    you’re    actually    living    .        veronica    falls    to    one    side    more    than    the    other    ,        and    by    trying    to    find    herself    in    other    people    ,        she’s    doing    herself    a    grave    disservice    that    leaves    her    feeling    almost    as    if    she’s    a    ghost    .        important    lyrics    to    note    :        am    i    thinking    what    everybody    else    is    thinking    ?        i’m    so    glad    i    came    but    i    can’t    wait    to    leave    /    slip    my    hand    from    your    hand    ,        leave    you    dancing    with    a    ghost    /    there’s    blood    in    my    ears    and    a    fool    in    the    mirror    /    the    bay    of    mistakes    can’t    get    any    clearer    /    don’t    it    beat    a    slow    dance    to    death    ?

* SMOKING SECTION .        self    -    destruction    .        self    harm    .        the    call    of    the    void    .        suicidal    urges    .        it’s    a    song    about    trying    to    overcome    these    feelings    by    giving    them    a    name    ,        and    remembering    that    they’re    thoughts    you    can    work    through    .        veronica’s    felt    them    her    entire    life    .        important    lyrics    to    note    :        sometimes    i    sit    in    the    smoking    section    ,        hoping    one    rogue    spark    will    land    in    my    direction    /    and    when    you    stomp    me    out    i’ll    scream    and    i’ll    shout    “    let    it    happen    ,        let    it    happen    ,        let    it    happen    ”    /    sometimes    i    stand    with    a    pistol    in    hand    /    sometimes    i    stand    on    the    edge    of    my    roof    ,        and    i    think    i’ll    jump    just    to    punish    you    /    and    then    i    think    ,        what    could    be    better    than    love    ?    /    it’s    not    the    end    ,        it’s    not    the    end    ,        it’s    not    the    end    ,        it’s    not    the    end    .

  BONUS    LEVEL    -        LOVE    THIS    GIANT    .

* ICE AGE .        written    as    a    prequel    of    sorts    to    cheerleader    off    her    album    strange    mercy    ,        clarke    has    said    it’s    a    get    it    together    song    of    sorts    .        veronica’s    in    her    own    ice    age    ;        she’s    frozen    over    to    protect    herself    ,        but    in    doing    so    ,        she’s    deprived    herself    of    the    experience    of    living    .        important    lyrics    to    note    :        oh    ,        diamond    ,        it’s    such    a    shame    to    see    you    this    way    ,        your    own    little    ice    age    /    seams    are    showing    ,        and    you’re    freaking    me    out    /    we    don’t    know    how    much    we’ve    lost    until    the    winter    thaws    /    it’s    close    to    your    bones    ,        it’s    far    from    your    shell    /    feel    it    away    ,        reason    it    out    .   

[pokemontrainertom]

Keeping Things Canonical

Hello and Happy Holidays to @alittlecstaticxilophone, I was your @mlsecretsanta!

I need to say that this is only chapter one. This whole thing kinda got away from me…

Read on AO3  | |  FF.net

“You chose me because of this, Minibug. I know how to keep a secret.”

With a final wave to the tiny spotted heroine Bunnyx ducked inside the burrow, closing the portal behind herself.

Looking back to ensure she was now alone Bunnyx let out a relieved sigh and flexed her recently restored limbs. They were all there.

She promptly collapsed to the ‘floor’ with a groan.

Turns out, Chat Blanc? Total nightmare for everyone involved.

And as if she needed any more reasons to beat in Gabriel’s face.

With a slow exhale to release some of the tension her last thought had just added to Bunnyx allowed her eyelids to slowly close.

If she had anything else she had to do today that didn’t involve lying right here for the next few hours, she was going to-

“Long day?”

Repressing a groan, Bunnyx shot to her feet, her umbrella held tight in hand.

“Woah, back it up.” The intruder said, dodging back from her swing. “We really don’t want to set off that Blinovitch effect thing, especially not in here.”

Weapon still raised, Bunnyx stared at the other figure inside her burrow. The very familiar figure.

“Hey Bianca.” Bunnyx said with a wave. “Is this a bad time?”

Bunnyx blinked.

Blinked again.

Raised her umbrella to her face.

And screamed.

...

A few minutes later and feeling a lot better Bunnyx looked across at the other rabbit in the room.

“So… you’re me from…?” Bunnyx questioned.

The other Bunnyx, henceforth dubbed Futuryx to avoid confusion, looked over from where she had claimed the bean bag that was normally stuffed in the same corner she kept her bowls.

Yes she was well aware that the Burrow was round.

No she did not know how the corner existed.

Please don’t ask.

“About… a month or so by my count.”

“About?” Bunnyx asked in disbelief. “How can you not know?”

Futuryx’s nose began to twitch.

It only took her a second before she recognised the motion. Obviously she had never seen it herself, but she had been told it was the same thing she did whenever she was trying to think of an answer that wouldn’t jeopardise the entirety of time.

Ladybug had been surprised to learn that it came up so often it had its own gesture associated with it.

Chat just found it hilarious it made her look so much like an actual rabbit.

Stupid trait bleeding magic watch.

“That’s… complicated.” Futuryx finally replied.

Bunnyx sighed, though not without a smile on her lips. “Isn’t it always?”

“Tell me about it.” Futuryx said with a groan that sounded only half exaggerated.

Bunnyx snickered. “So why are you here?”

“Right.” Futuryx said straightening in her seat, managing to look cool even while relaxing on a bean bag twice her size.

She was awesome like that.

“I’ve got a job for you.”

“Right.” Bunnyx nodded, having expected as much.

You don’t time travel just for a social visit after all.

“So, the job?” She prompted.

Futuryx remained silent, nose twitching once more.

“Nothing universe ending I hope?” She joked with a grin.

Her future self winced.

Bunnyx felt her ears slump. “Seriously?”

The older hero shrugged with a sheepish smile. “‘Fraid so. It’s… Well…” Pause. Twitch. “You know how the whole Chat Blanc thing was caused, right?”

“Yeah? Minibug left her signature on her gift to Rapunzel and-”

“No, no. After that.” Futuryx interrupted.

Bunnyx racked her brain for a moment. Recent as it may have been, it had still been a lot of events she had witnessed. “Er then… “ Her eyes widened in realisation before immediately narrowing. “Hawkmoth being his- Gabriel, his Mom being alive and then being forced to choose between her and Minibug on top of that…”

“Nearly.” Futuryx commented tersely, nose twitching like mad and hands tightly clenched to the fabric beneath her, “Just back up a little bit, how did that happen?”

“They… retraced the path of the akuma, the one sent after Mininette because she had been forced to break up with Rapunzel, some bull about-”

“Stop.” Futuryx spoke, interrupting her upcoming rant. “Right there.”

“The… break-up?” She asked, head fuzzy from the rapid emotional changes.

Futuryx didn’t reply, merely staring at her, nose still twitching. “What do you think Minibug and Kitten will be up to now?”

“They… what?” Bunnyx tried, completely thrown by the apparent non sequitur.

“I know, I know.” Futuryx rolled her eyes. “Sorry. You’re nearly there though.”

“Well… Rapunzel goes back to his ivory tower, while Mininette gets dropped back into a list of responsibilities as long as she is exhausted…” She said with a wince.

“And…?” Futuryx prodded.

“Minibug will fight akumas with Kitten, while Rapunzel will be friends with Mininette, both of them somehow ignoring slash not realising the fact that they’re completely and utterly in love with each other…”

Futuryx’s eyes narrowed. “And if they were to ever realise those feelings for each other?”

“Then… they would begin to date. Likely wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off each other.” Seeing that Futuryx was still just staring at her she continued her thoughts, “Eventually their identities would be shared for one reason or another, their teamwork would improve which would lead to more efficient akuma fights…”

“And in response?” Futuryx asked, now slowly walking towards her, each step heavy. “What would Hawkmoth do? What did Hawkmoth do?”

The break-up. The akuma. The confrontation

“But that means…” Bunnyx swallowed, eyes wide. “Chat Blanc…?”

“Chat Blanc, Miss Fortune, Chatastrophe, Princess Justice, Black Widow…” Futuryx counted off on her fingers before trailing off with a humourless chuckle. “Different method, same results.”

Bunnyx swore.

“Exactly.” Futuryx grumbled. “Chat Blanc was the catalyst, and now they’re popping up all over. Even past events are changing.”

Bunnyx took a deep breath. “So… the job?”

“Keeping Adrien and Marinette’s relationship non romantic, no matter what. Otherwise it always manages to end up with a fight with Hawkmoth.” Futuryx sighed, head bowed. “And they’re not ready. Not yet.”

“Figures.” Bunnyx muttered. “The one good thing they have to look forward to and it manages to cause the apocalypse if it happens.” She sighed, forcing a smile. “As bad as it sounds at least I won’t have interfere too often, right?”

Futuryx didn’t reply.

“You’re joking.” Bunnyx said flatly.

Futuryx just shook her head, jaw clenched.

“No.” Bunnyx denied. “You’re telling me that even with how oblivious Adrien is, and with Marinette’s grand gestures that never work they still get together?

“They did. Do. The gestures I mean.” Futuryx clarified.

“They…” Bunnyx’s hand raised to her head. “How many?”

“All of them.”

“All…?”

“All of them.” Futuryx repeated.

Bunnyx did not shriek, she was too cool for that. “Even Operation Flower Garden?! ”

“All. Of. Them.” Futuryx punctuated, looking like she was half a second away from throttling something, probably her, paradox be damned. After taking a breath she continued, voice tight. “And every single one leading to… to…”

Bunnyx swallowed. One or two were simple, she’d done it before even, but rewriting all of that? That was a full time job on its own, let alone with all the usual surveillance she did. And that was without thinking of all the moral implications…

But if she didn’t…

White light, expanding out across everything, consuming everything-

Mustering up a grin, Bunnyx relaxed the grip she had on her umbrella and gave it a twirl. “I guess I’d better get started then…”

“Great.” Futuryx said, a grin similar to Bunnyx’s own on her face. “That’s the bad news out of the way.”

“There’s good news?”

Futuryx waved a hand. “Kind of. The better news is there’s a whole group of us working on combating it already so you’re not doing this alone.”

Bunnyx felt her ears perk back up at that little revelation. “Oh thank Fluff.”

“Yeah, we were all kinds of freaked out when time started changing on us, but we managed to track it back to your present. Of course, by the time we’d done that the whole thing had fixed itself.” Futuryx smirked. “Good job with that by the way.”

“Heh, thanks.”

“But as I said these disruptions are now turning up all over the place, changing time itself. We have no idea what’s causing it, so the most we can do is fight them as they appear. And who better to join the team than the Bunnyx who was involved with case zero?”

Offering herself a salute, Bunnyx grinned. “Glad to be of service.”

“Remember, any differences to your memories need to be changed.” Futuryx reminded. After a grimace she added, “No exceptions.”

“Right.”

“We’ve got a lot of your present handled and I’m afraid none of us can look at our personal futures so… Oh, wait you’re the youngest of the group!” Futuryx stated, ignoring Bunnyx’s raised eyebrow. “You should start at the beginning and work your way through each day chronologically for now.”

“First day they get their Miraculouses, yeah?” She confirmed. “Got it.”

At her hip Futuryx’s pocket watch beeped and was swiftly flipped open. “Agent Alice, I can confirm Agent Bianca is on board. Heading back now. Agent Bugs out.” Replacing the watch to her side she looked back to meet her disbelieving gaze. “What?”

“Agent Bianca?”

“Sorry.” Futuryx, or well Bugs she supposed, apologised, not sounding sorry in the slightest. “Recruiters get the nicknaming rights. Look I’ve got to get back, but here,” A list of frequencies was carefully handed over. “To keep in contact.”

Flicking her own pocket watch on and receiving a quick message from an ‘Agent Alice’ Bunnyx looked up just in time to catch Bugs heading over to the wall of portals.

“Good luck.” Bugs said, shaking her raised foot, before stepping through a portal out of the burrow with a wave.

Bunnyx sighed before turning to the portals outlining the burrow. Already she could see static forming along the edges of some of them.

Selecting one she began rewinding the picture as fast as she could. No need to let herselves down.

The rewinding stopped, paused on the now famous image of Minibug and Kitten confronting Stoneheart. Bunnyx stared at it for a moment, her face hardening. “Sorry guys.”

She pressed play.