#and like??? it makes me remember that there is a fine line between unconditional love and apathy

[origamistarsandco]

Alright this one's probably best for the tags.

[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

chapter eleven

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters

july 31st, 2018 los angeles, california calum

Saying goodbye has never been my strong suit. I wish it would've gotten easier over time — with as many goodbyes as we've had to give, it should be easier. It's not.

I guess it's gotten easier with people who mean less. Friends, distant family. It's fine if we don't see each other too often, because the time we do spend together ends up feeling more valuable. I don't mind the few times we see each other each year having more weight than they used to, but with Orion, it's so, so different.

She's my absolute best friend. She's my unconditional, unwavering biggest fan. She's my voice of reason. She makes the good days even better and the bad days a bit less bad.

I had a life without Orion, before we met, but I never want to live a life without her again.

From the moment we woke up yesterday until now, both of us have been a lot more somber. We cling to each other as much as we can, needing to be as close as physics will allow. The only times we are apart are when one of us uses the bathroom.

I tossed and turned all night, my mind racing with thoughts. Why didn't I try harder to convince her to come with us? How often will we actually be able to talk? Between her classes, work-study, LSAT prep, press interviews, soundchecks, performances, traveling, sleeping, and time zones, how often will our lives line up?

I love touring. I really do, but I love Orion more than anything else in this entire world. I would do anything for her as soon as she asked.

I try to remind myself we’ll be back in time for the holidays and for O’s birthday, so while we’re missing time together, we aren’t missing any important days. Orion already has a Friendsgiving planned and I’m sure she’s got Secret Santa in the works too. I try to just think about the good parts of traveling and all of the fun things we’ll get to do when I get back. Emelia and I have already been trying to plan a trip for her and O to come join us on tour for their fall break, but we’ll see if that actually ends up being possible.

We’re not flying out until 3:00 this afternoon and don’t need to leave for the airport until 12:00, but I wake up at 6:00. I don’t wake Orion up until 8:30, but I spend my two and a half hours of silence in bed, holding her as close to me as I can without squeezing her so hard that she’d wake up. She looks so peaceful like this, her hair loosely cascading around her face, her skin makeup free, and her eyes closed, making it even more apparent that she has long, thick lashes. This is the last time I’ll wake up like this for a few months. I sneak a selfie of us, hoping to use it to remember how it feels to sleep next to O while we’re a million miles away.

To wake her up, I just start peppering kisses all over her face. First, her forehead. Then, her eyelids. Each cheek. Her jaw. Her temple. I wait for her eyes to sleepily blink open before I press my final kiss to her lips.

"Mornin', baby."

She smiles, sleepily gazing up at me. "Morning."

I could get lost in her eyes forever.

"Wanna get pastries and coffee?"

Her smile grows into a grin. "Yes, please."

—

After a morning of flaky croissants, weird lattes, and a long walk around the neighborhood, Orion and I took our last shower together for a while. We stood under the steamy stream of hot water, just holding each other in silence. I'm going to miss those moments.

Following the shower, I dress in an all black sweatsuit and slides. Orion pulls on the shirt I wore yesterday — "it smells like you" she explained — and a pair of sweat shorts, slipping her Birkenstocks on. We cuddle with Duke on the couch while we wait for the van that Matt sent to pick us up. I make sure to pet Duke a ton and give him a few treats so that his last interaction with me is a happy one.

The call that the driver is here comes far too quickly, and we buzz him up to let him get my bags. I don't make him carry all of them. He gets my two larger checked bags, and I grab my duffel bag, and Orion carries my backpack. I probably overpacked, but things seem to mysteriously disappear whenever we're on the road.

"Are you going on vacation?" Ron asks when we're clambering through the lobby with all my luggage.

"Cal's going on tour," Orion explains. Her sad expression hurts something in my chest.

Ron smiles. "Oh, wonderful! That's so exciting. Calum, I hope to hear about your journey when you return. Best of luck!"

I smile graciously and nod. "Sure thing, thanks Ron. Keep an eye on this one for me, will you?" I motion to Orion, who glares in response, and Ron agrees to make sure she's safe.

We throw my bags into the trunk of the black van, the driver opening the sliding door for Orion and me. I let her get in first, of course, and then climb in after her, closing the door behind me. We sit as close to each other as we can in the backseat, my arm wrapped around Orion's small frame, her head on my chest, my other hand intertwined with her hands while she traces over my tattooed initials.

She's already crying, and I have to look away so I don't follow suit.

The drive is silent; the driver doesn't even play a shitty top 40 station. All we listen to is the GPS navigation.

Our driver takes us to a special entrance at LAX where we don't have to mix with the public, and as we pull up, I see Michael and Crystal getting their things out of the van that brought them.

"Hey guys!" Michael cheers.

Of course, they're happy. They're not spending this tour apart and are going to get to travel the world together. They're looking forward to this whole thing, meanwhile I'm dreading it.

Okay, I suppose dreading it isn't quite how I'd describe it. I'm excited to tour and see fans all over the world and perform the music we just released. I am dreading being apart from the girl I love most.

Orion doesn't say anything, she just waves to him.

When Michael catches onto our mood, he frowns and runs over to us, wrapping us into a hug. "Don't be sad, guys! This tour isn't that long. We'll be back before you know it, O."

She sniffles and nods, pulling back from Michael. "I'm gonna miss you guys." Her teary eyes catch Mike's gaze and then I see something in him shift before he hugs her again. Orion keeps her hand in mine while she hugs him back.

"You're gonna make me cry too! It's gonna be fine, OK? We all love you and will miss you just as much as you miss us."

Once Orion manages to regain some of her composure, we head inside. Our bags have already disappeared, except for our backpacks and Crystal's tote bag. When we get in, Matt, Ashton, Luke, Sierra, and most of our crew are already in there, milling about.

"Great, you're here," Matt says while he walks up to us. "Let's go ahead and start going through security."

Again, we're in some separate part of LAX that the public doesn't have access to, but we do still have to go through TSA like everyone else, it's just a separate, far smaller one.

Unspokenly, everyone lets Orion and me go first so we can have as much time on the other side as we can together.

Once we've gone through security and have our shoes back on, I pull Orion off to a secluded corner and just hug her as tight as I can. I can feel her tears soaking my sweatshirt, and I try to console her by smoothing my hand over the back of her head. Her small hands clutch at the back of my sweatshirt, balling the material into her fists.

It takes a lot of effort for me not to cry.

Why is saying goodbye so hard?

I don't know how long we're standing there for. I'm just trying to be here with Orion for as long as I can.

"Boys, time to board," Matt calls.

Fuck. It's time.

"Say your goodbyes," he adds.

Even though he says boys, he's not talking to Mike or Ash or Luke. Crystal and Sierra are coming with us, and Kay is at the hospital with her grandma, and the rest of our crew wasn't allowed to bring guests into the airport at all. He's just talking to me.

Orion squeezes me closer to her as hard as she can, and I just keep smoothing her hair. It's so soft.

I take a few deep breaths, preparing to speak without my voice cracking. "I'll see you when I get back. I love you."

She sniffles, and I feel her back shake while she cries. It breaks my heart to be the cause of this pain. She doesn't deserve it. "I love you," she manages to say.

I pull back so I can look at her. Her face is red and puffy, tears shiny on her cheeks, and yet, she's still so beautiful. I could look at her forever. "You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen, even when you're crying," I tell her, meaning every single word. I wipe away her tears with my thumb.

She scrunches up her face and blushes, looking so cute while she does. Everything about her is just... perfect.

"Flattery isn't getting you anywhere today, babe," she starts. I pretend like she's wounded me. "I love you. Go, board. I'll be cheering you on every night."

Instead of replying, I lean down and kiss her again. How can I not kiss her every day? I lived a life without Orion before, and I never want to do that again. I want to kiss her every day for the rest of my life. I want to make her laugh every day. I want to love her every day. God, I can't imagine not loving this girl. How can anyone not fall in love with her?

"I love you so much. I'll call you when we land, okay?" I kiss her nose. We're going to Japan first, so it'll be quite a long travel time. I don't want her waiting around trying to time the call correctly, so I'll just plan on calling her the moment our wheels touch down in Tokyo.

"Did I mention I love you?" I ask. That makes her grin, and my heart hurts a little less.

"No, I don't think so," she teases.

"I did!" I pout.

Orion gently pushes my chest. "Go."

I sigh, nodding. "I'm gonna miss—"

I'm cut off when a hand grabs my shoulder and I feel a body behind me. "Cal, mate, we've really gotta go." It's Ashton. I hang my head and nod.

"It's not easy to say goodbye to the love of your life, dude!" I defend myself.

Ashton grins, but his eyes are sad, too. He must be thinking about how Kay isn't joining us yet, either. He gets how hard it is to leave. "She also literally just told you to go!"

"I'm gonna miss you too, babe," Orion chimes in. She kisses me again and then she steps several feet away from me, too quickly for me to try to catch her and pull her back. "Go!" She laughs.

I know she doesn't mean it negatively; she's just trying to let me do my job and what I love, but it hurts somewhat that she's telling me to go. I can't explain it. I sigh.

"Okay, fine, I'll go," I decide sadly.

Orion blows me a kiss as I walk backward toward the door, and I numbly leave, trying my hardest not to cry. Once I'm through the door, I let a few tears fall. I realize then that no one else has gotten the chance to say goodbye to Orion, so I'm the only one getting on the plane from our group.

The crew, Michael, Luke, Crystal, and Sierra join me soon, each offering me sympathetic glances.

"We're gonna have fun, mate," Michael says, throwing an arm around my shoulder. "Orion's a strong girl, she'll be fine without you."

I just nod, not saying anything.

I take my seat on the plane, watching the rest of our crew clamber past me. I wonder what's taking Ashton so long to board. I know he and Orion are close, but it's odd considering now we're just waiting for Ashton and Matt. I quickly send a text to Orion while we wait.

To: my love + stars i love love love you. i wish you could come with us, maybe next tour? you say the word and i'll fly you out wherever and whenever you want. i miss you already. xxx

When Ashton finally boards, his eyes are red and he's wiping away tears, too. He sits next to me, sniffling quietly.

"I'm gonna miss her," he admits.

I smile sadly. "Yeah, me too."

From: my love + stars i'll miss you far more i promise. love you the literal most ever. go take on the world.

“She loves you so much, man,” Ashton mutters.

I’m not sure where that came from, but I know emotions are at a high. “I love her so much.”

He nods. “I know.”

Once everyone is on the plane, they shut the door and we start taxiing. Ash gets out his headphones, signaling to me that we aren’t going to be talking on this flight, at least not now. I get mine out too, send Orion a few heart emojis, text my family that we’ve boarded our first flight of the tour, and then put it into airplane mode.

I check the time. It’s 2:32. Underneath the numbers, I stare at the picture of Orion and me from the other day when we got ice cream. She looks so pure, and happy, and the sun reflected in her eyes in a way that made them almost look lit up. I can’t wait to be back and see them in person again.

God, this is going to be a long tour.

read next chapter

[thegoldenharp]

lorcan x anthony.

“did you always want this?”

the question is murmured through kiss-swollen lips, and anthony almost smiles when lorcan starts.

“want you? from the first time i saw you.” oh, he is smooth with the counter, the grace of a champion fencer, and anthony feels his cheeks heat despite himself at the easy flattery.

“hush, i am trying—” giggles slightly at the scrape of stubble against his neck, squirming in the steel circle of lorcan’s arms as he turns to face him.

“did you always want to be a pirate?”

“oh.” a longer pause, an agonising stretch of seconds that yawns between them. but lorcan seems to actually intend to answer, lips parting and pursing as he looks for the words.

“i always wanted the sea, i remember that. seeing the fishing boats come in at sunset and the—the freedom of it. but we were too poor to wait for sponsorship, and i was a strapping lad of twelve.”

sold. anthony had been told of such things but hadn’t believed it, hadn’t wanted to believe it. tries to imagine lorcan as a child and cannot.

“would—“ god above, he cannot lose his nerve now, even as turquoise eyes sharpen to cool agate, “would you ever—”

lorcan is silent, but lips pursed into a fine line scream do not make me choose, please do not make me—

“would you visit me—in england?” the futility of trying to hold lorcan close, feeling him slip through his fingers like the seafoam he craves, claws up in anthony’s throat, a screeching love me love me love me that he swallows like bile. already desperate for trifles, as men at the barracks boasted their wives and mistresses were.

“always.” lorcan’s promise is solemn, quieter than anthony expected, and his lips on the column of anthony’s throat seal the pact and—

“even if i must wed?” the second the question passes his lips, anthony wishes he could take it back, go to mere moments before when he had (almost, and it is that almost that chafes) been gifted an unconditional oath.

lorcan’s lips freeze on his throat, and there is a flare of something that wears jealousy’s skin when next he speaks.

“must you?” the question is little more than a rumble, that of a storm or of riders cresting a hill. a warning of what might follow, even if his fingers try to be gentle.

(your skin is so soft, he marvelled the first time he touched him. as if he were made of finest spun silk.)

“it’s not my decision. not truly.” the apology is stilted, the love me love me love me fading to a low thrum in the back of his throat which makes any other words difficult to choke out.

and it is wishful thinking, he knows that, but anthony fancies that there is a quiet, muted desperation in lorcan’s fingers as they undo their previous work of dressing him again, seams straining under strong hands. when lorcan’s fingers once more brush against the still-unblemished skin of his rib cage, he knows he does not imagine the soft, satisfied sigh that leaves lorcan’s lips, his own little love me love me love me.

(he does. oh, he does.)

[magniloquent-raven]

soulmate au part 3!!!!

(read part 1 and part 2 here)

it takes three weeks for anything to happen.

they see each other at school, exchange glances in class, brush past each other in the hallways, fingers grazing as their shoulders bump, incidental touches that wouldn’t draw attention but still leave billy tingling and giddy and embarrassed at himself but…

he’s still getting used to having a soulmate. a real, tangible person he can reach out and touch.

and maybe he’d get used to it faster if he could touch him more, but life keeps conspiring against them. they can’t seem to get a second alone. when it isn’t steve’s kids are crawling all over him 24/7 it’s neil breathing down billy’s neck because he ran out on one fucking class.

well, and then had to lie to neil about why, which was probably what put neil on high alert, but still.

three goddamn weeks.

and neither of them have been patient about it. steve keeps writing billy notes. in the middle of class scrawling things like you have nice eyes and i wanna spend time with you and billy can fucking feel how smug steve gets about making him blush. it’s all he can do not to make a scene in front of half their peers. sometimes he’s not sure if he’d punch steve for being an asshole or kiss him for being sweet.

or both. he can do both.

but mostly he wants time, and somewhere to just...be. with steve.

and he gets that, three weeks after their conversation in the parking lot. steve’s parents will be out of town, and his kids have some stupid game night planned. max keeps asking to go but pretending she isn’t, badly feigning disinterest, and best of all, neil and susan are planning a weekend trip to visit susan’s bedridden aunt a few hours away.

billy is determined to take full advantage of those thirty-six hours. neither of them will acknowledge it directly, but he knows max will tell neil he was home all weekend if she has to. he has no reason to be nervous about being caught, or anything else. it’ll be fine.

it’ll be fine.

he tells himself that over and over but it doesn’t stop him from checking every corner of the house in case neil’s hiding behind a door somewhere before he can even think about getting ready to leave.

he checks again after he’s showered and dressed.

thankfully max is already gone, so she’s not there to see him pacing around like a neurotic rat in a maze.

it almost worse that he isn’t just anxious, he’s excited. and it’s making him twitchy.

there’s no plan. they aren’t going on a date or anything. he’s just...going to steve’s house. steve’s empty house. he’s going to be alone with his soulmate. the list of reasons why that scares him is endless.

and he’s not sure if he’s more terrified of the possibility that steve won’t ask about the makeup thing or the possibility that he will.

knocking on the harringtons’ front door is. an experience. it shouldn’t be. it’s just a fucking door. but billy’s palms are sweating and suddenly he has no idea what he’s even going to say, and he keeps glancing over his shoulder even though he doesn’t really know what he’s looking for, and it feels like he’s been standing on the porch for a fucking eternity but—

his worries don’t exactly melt away when steve opens the door but there is a warm flutter in his chest that’s...new. and distracting.

and steve smiles at him all sunshine and chocolate, and the second the door closes behind them he grabs billy’s hand, wide-eyed, questioning, watching billy’s reaction.

his palm is just as sweaty as billy’s and it’s gross, but also kind of comforting.

“hello to you too,” billy snickers, and steve visibly relaxes, lacing their fingers together properly.

“hi,” he breathes quietly, his gaze soft, but intense, focused. “waiting sucked, okay. i’ve been wanting to do that forever.” he shakes their joined hands for emphasis.

“...that all you were waiting to do?”

steve’s grin turns sly, and his gaze drops a little. “no.”

billy wants to kiss him. he wants to be kissed. he wants steve’s mouth on him, somewhere, anywhere, right now. it’s a nice mouth. he’s spent a lot of time looking at it, and thinking about it, about the way the steam from the showers turned his lips so, so red, wet and slick and both too close and too far away, wondering what he’d taste like—

but steve turns away, taking all the air in billy’s lungs with him. it’s so jarring a shift that billy actually sways a little before he gets ahold of himself and lets steve tug him by hand and lead him upstairs.

the wallpaper in steve’s room has to be some kind of hate crime, but billy doesn’t have time to dwell on it, because there’s a beige bag sitting conspicuously on top of steve’s neatly made bed. the clear plastic top is zipped shut, dusty with age and spilled powders, but billy can still make out tubes of lipstick and eyeliner pencils through the haze.

he stops in the doorway and stares at it, thoughts at a stand-still.

steve’s still clutching his hand, tighter now, and no longer pulling him along. “i—uh. the bag was my mom’s, i think. found it crumpled up under the sink, so, like. she probably doesn’t even remember it exists. and the stuff in it is...new.”

“...new,” billy echoes faintly.

“yeah. yeah, i—i bought it. had no idea what i was looking for though, so i hope i did alright.”

billy blinks at him.

“was—was that okay? i know maybe isn’t exactly a yes, but i kinda hoped it could be, y’know? it’s—it’s totally cool if it isn’t. if you’re—if you’re not up for it. or…” he trails off awkwardly and grimaces.

billy takes a breath. “i’m up for it,” he assures steve with more confidence than he feels.

and steve absolutely beams at him. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

turns out steve not knowing what he was looking for meant he bought...everything.

as billy pokes through the mess he tries not to feel too apprehensive. or at least tries not to let it show. too much. he chews his thumbnail, picking up an eyeliner pencil with the other hand. it’s good shit, all the products are, with fancy names for colours and designer labels. it’s all leagues better than the drugstore clearance shelf crap he lifted as a kid. which doesn’t make this any less nerve-wracking.

“it’s been a while since i did this, so. don’t expect it to be, fucking, art or anything.”

steve shuffles closer from his spot at the foot of the bed and touches billy’s knee. “the eyeliner earlier this year…?” he gestures vaguely at his own face, eyebrows raised.

“friend of mine did that,” billy mutters.

and then his whole goddamn life came crashing down around him because of it.

his anxiety spikes, and he drops the pencil back into the pile, shoving the bag away. “i can’t fucking do this,” he snaps, and he’s halfway standing already when steve reaches for him, alarmed.

“billy, wait—” the hand on his elbow is soft, gentle, but he still flinches away. steve withdraws, fingers curled, lips parted, shock and hurt at war on his face. “i’m sorry. i—shit, i’m sorry—”

“don’t.” billy shakes his head, pulling away further. his lungs hurt. there isn’t enough air in this room. “just—forget it. this was a mistake.”

he’s through the door and heading down the stairs before he can think about it, before steve can respond. he wouldn’t have heard him anyways, not over the echoes of his father’s voice that follow him no matter how fast he flees.

but he stops just short of leaving. stands on the ugly little mat by the front door and stares down at it, his forehead inches away from resting against the wooden doorjamb.

he doesn’t want to leave.

he doesn’t want to go anywhere but back upstairs.

and...he kind of hates it. he has no reason to want that. he barely fucking knows steve, and he certainly doesn’t owe him anything. not a look at his authentic self or even a fucking apology. nothing.

so why does he want to give him all of that and more.

why.

it’s fucking terrifying and ridiculous and confusing and…

“billy?” steve calls out tentatively, far enough away that billy doesn’t startle. he’s making his way down the stairs.

if he’s gonna run, it’s now or never.

now…

or…

he turns around, and leans back, his shoulder thudding heavily as he hits the wall. his eyes itch, and rubbing them doesn’t help.

“billy…” steve’s right in front of him now, hovering just shy of being close, worry etched into every line of his face. “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have pushed, i’m sorry—”

“not your fault,” billy mumbles, muffled against his palm. “stop apologizing, harrington.”

steve sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. “i...uh.”

“you were gonna do it again weren’t you.”

“...no.”

billy snorts quietly, head falling against the cold wallpaper at his back. “fuck,” he exhales, hand dropping to his shoulder. “look, this is...threatening to be the best fucking thing that ever happened to me, and good things don’t just—it never lasts. it always blows up in my face, and you should know that before you get caught up in it too.”

there’s an awful, drawn-out pause while steve purses his lips and tilts his head and looks billy up and down, his gaze gentle despite the scrutiny.

“i want to touch you,” steve says quietly. he waits for billy’s hesitant nod before he wraps his arms around and tucks his face into the crook of billy’s neck. “i’ve been waiting for you my whole life, hargrove, you’re not scaring me off that easily.”

and...billy always wanted to believe in the romantic notions people wrote about in songs. soulmates being destined for each other. epic, unconditional love. he never had any reason to believe it was real, but he clung to it anyway. despite the part of him that was wary, afraid of putting too much stock in something that might break his heart later on.

so for steve to just outright say it like that…so matter of fact. the reality of the situation smacks him in the face a little.

he puts his hands on steve’s waist, slipping under his shirt to rest against soft bare skin. touching him feels...right. when he lets himself feel, lets himself be here, in the moment. the sweet scent of steve’s hair, the warmth of his breath, the soothing pressure of his fingertips smoothing the wrinkled fabric of billy’s shirt. it all adds up to a feelings that billy can only describe as home.

not home like the place, but home like the warmth of sunlight and sand between his toes, ocean spray on his lips. a feeling he’s always had to chase to capture, but somehow it’s...here. quiet and still, and nothing like he’s used to, but it’s here.

and his touch seems to put steve at ease as well, he practically melts into billy’s embrace, which does strange and addictive things to billy’s heart.

but he can’t just shut his fucking mouth and enjoy the moment.

“bet i could, though. scare you off. i might, some day.”

“billy,” steve sighs, and pulls back enough to look him in the eye. “trust me when i say, you’ll never even make the top ten scariest things i’ve seen.”

and he wants to scoff, or feel insulted, or push the issue, start a fight, but. there’s a hollow look in steve’s eye. it’s not the face of some sheltered rich boy who thinks he’s a big man, no, there’s truth there. billy believes him.

stopping the tide of questions is almost physically painful, but he knows there’s no going down that road today. he’s hiding enough of his own skeletons to be sure they aren’t ready for that yet.

he might just be ready for something else though.

“i wanna try again.”

steve blinks at him, confused for a beat, two, and. “oh!” his lips part around the exclamation, distracting billy for a moment. “the—the makeup? you don’t— you don’t have to.”

“i want to.” he hesitates, and then presses a brief kiss to the tip of steve’s nose, startling a smile out of him. billy grins back. “i want to.”

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty-Three

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: so yeah this isn’t my best work bc i havent been feeling great lately but i hope you guys can stay patient with me until i get my shit together. we’re almost to the end🤞

***

Sitting crammed between Elain and Feyre on the gray couch in Lana’s office, Nesta has to cross her legs prettily and pretend she doesn’t want to peel out of her skin right there. She doesn’t know what she was thinking when she invited her sisters to one of her therapy sessions, but she’s assuming it would be considered rude to kick them out now.

“Who wants to speak first?” Lana’s bob swings as she looks at each of them. The office is ice cold today, and Feyre and Elain’s presence doesn’t help the chill in the air.

Nesta crosses her arms before she can be asked to speak. “No, thank you,” she says. She knows everyone probably expects better from her, but no way in hell is she going to be the first to open up in front of this crowd. “Feyre,” she turns to her youngest sister instead, “why don’t you say something?”

“Actually, why don’t you set the example, Nesta?” Lana gives her a look, making her cheeks redden with irritation.

“Fine,” Nesta grumbles. She clears her throat. “As you can see, I have made moves to reconnect with my sisters. I invited them here because I hoped that therapy would bring us closer and also make them more… tolerable.”

Elain coughs, “Bitch.”

Nesta smiles tightly. “Elain could especially use this, I think.”

Lana is already frowning. She never frowns this early into a session. “We’ll start with an easy question, then. What’s been on your mind lately, Nesta?”

Nesta purses her lips, pretending to think. “Nothing important. I’m looking at jobs for the summer. I think Azriel keeps sneaking money into my purse, and it’s starting to become more than a little condescending. I caught up with some friends from school, and I was polite enough to pay for lunch.” She mentions off to the side to Elain, “Lucien was there, too.”

“Why would I care?” Elain sneers. She spies Lana’s disapproving look and lowers her head demurely. “Sorry,” she murmurs.

“That’s alright,” Lana says. “Why don’t you go next?”

“Me?” Elain’s head snaps up, and Nesta holds in her snicker.

“Start by describing your relationship with Nesta. I heard you two used to be very close.” Lana uncaps her pen, preparing to write.

Elain flushes lightly and folds her hands. “That was when we were children. The only thing keeping us together was that we shared a home. When we stopped living in the same place, some of us had no problem leaving others in the dust.”

“You can use my name,” Nesta rolls her eyes, “I’m right here.”

From the corner of her vision, Feyre cringes.

“Are you saying you feel abandoned by Nesta?” Lana continues probing.

Elain’s answering silence tells more than enough. Therapy must actually be paying off, though, because Nesta only thinks about interrupting and defending herself for a second before shaking it off. Her mind focuses on the word abandonment instead.

Lana is focusing on the same thing, because she leans closer and says, “Being abandoned bothers you?”

“I never said that,” Elain says indignantly.

“It would bother most people.”

Nesta watches Elain sigh and blink her big doe eyes at Lana. She’s always been able to use those eyes on anybody for anything. “I just don’t understand why I’m the villain for expecting a little loyalty,” Elain says sweetly. “Especially when you take a look at this face.” She cups her round cheeks. “You know psychology. How could you abandon this face?”

Nesta’s jaw hangs open. “Are we still talking about me?” She remembers Cassian telling her the story behind Azriel ghosting Elain, and a pang of guilt and pity hits her. She still hasn’t talked with Elain about why Azriel left Velaris, and she knows she won’t be able to decide whether to spare Az or not until she does.

“So that’s my turn,” Elain finishes up. “Feyre can go next.”

Lana is writing something sharply on her notepad, but she nods coolly. “Feyre, how would you describe your relationship with your sisters?”

“Oh, we don’t have time for all of that,” Feyre laughs awkwardly and waves a hand.

Nesta agrees, but the look Lana gives Feyre tells her that yes, they do have time.

Gulping, Feyre glances around. “Well, I was born last, so I guess that made me the outsider of the family. I never had much in common with my sisters, but now that we’re older I… hoped that we would grow past that.”

Translation: she hoped that once she found her happy ending in Rhysand’s arms, poor little Nesta and Elain would happily assimilate into her new community of wealthy friends, putting the cherry on top of her perfect life. And while Elain did that exact thing, it’s always bothered Feyre that Nesta won’t do the same.

Feyre continues, “I admit I’m not the best at understanding Nesta. Elain and I get along fine now, but Nesta…” Feyre meets her eyes. “It’s like nothing we do is enough for her, but for some reason I can’t stop trying.”

“Whose fault is that?” Nesta mutters.

“You want her approval,” Lana hums, taking notes.

“Is that what it is?” Feyre looks away.

Nesta refrains from saying yes, that’s exactly what it is, and it’s not my problem if you keep looking for something I can’t give.

“What are your feelings about that, Nesta?” Lana turns her focus to her. “Remember that this is a safe space.”

It really isn’t, not with two siblings holding long term grudges against Nesta. But once and for all, she’s going to set the record straight. “I spent most of my life being a bad sister.” Nesta’s voice is apathetic, straightforward. “I let Feyre take the burden of providing for us even though I was the oldest, and I didn’t know how to be anything other than cruel to my family. So once I had the means to do so, I cut everyone off for all of our sakes. I still don’t regret it, because being a stranger is better than being a bad sister.”

In that way, Nesta is a bit like her mother. Nesta was angry after her death, but she knows she would have been even angrier if Magdalene Archeron had lived and continued to be a disappointing parent. In that way, both of them are wise for leaving their families when they did.

“Or you could just be a good sister,” Elain interrupts with a drawl.

Nesta smirks bitterly at her. “I’d rather die.”

Feyre takes in a breath. “Why? Why are you like that with us?” She blinks furiously, and Nesta can see the simmer of her emotions. “It was okay when we thought you hated everybody, but you don’t. You only hate me and Elain.”

Nesta looks to Lana for help, but her therapist is sitting this one out. She sighs through her nose. “I don’t hate you,” she says, even though they might never understand. The next line comes with great difficulty. “I’ve loved you since before I even knew what love was. But I don’t like you very much, Feyre, and you don’t like me, either. Please stop trying to change that.”

When she finally meets Feyre’s eyes, though, they’re glimmering with tears. “How can I stop trying to change that?” Feyre whispers. “How can I give up on us like that?”

For Nesta to give Feyre and Elain the relationship they want from her would require nothing but lies on her part. And as much as she wishes she was capable of lying about this, she can’t do it.

Looking away and down at her hands, Nesta mutters, “It’s not fun for me either, but it’s how I am. I can’t be easy or friendly with you. I hate watching you try to make me be easy or friendly.”

Nobody says anything to that, but when Nesta looks up again Lana gives her a remote nod that Feyre and Elain don’t catch. Thank you for your vulnerability, it says.

“You said something interesting, Nesta,” Lana breaks the silence. “Did you see your sisters as your responsibility to raise?”

Nesta shrugs. “I was the oldest,” she repeats.

“Your father was the oldest.”

“He wouldn’t do shit even if you held a gun to his head, so I was up next.” Though Nesta hadn’t done shit either. Neither had Elain, but the rules have always been different for her. Elain redeems herself to others by handing out sunny smiles and pretending to have the intelligence of a fawn.

Lana stares at Nesta until Nesta’s skin starts to heat. “What?” she says defensively.

Ignoring the other two women in the room, Lana leans forward. “You told me once early into our relationship that part of the reason you left Tennessee was to get away from your sisters. You said you were heartbroken when they ended up following you here.”

Nesta doesn’t breathe or look to see her sisters’ reactions.

“Now I’m going to ask: did you really want to get away from your sisters, or did you want to escape the feeling of failing them?”

Nesta doesn’t know how to answer, because to her they might as well be the same thing. Having Feyre and Elain around is like having a weight tied to her chest. The lingering guilt every time Feyre is in a room, her existence screaming I’m the reason you’re still alive. Elain’s constant expectations of unconditional support and loyalty, whether it’s reciprocated or not. It’s all so heavy. And it all goes back to the fact that the three of them were once just helpless children.

If she couldn’t take care of her sisters, how is she supposed to take care of any child, ever?

Nesta releases a weary sigh. “You’re going to bring this up the next time we have the baby talk, aren’t you?”

Lana’s eyes sparkle. “Don’t get ahead of yourself just yet.” But Nesta can see from where she sits that her therapist’s notepad is covered in bullet points.

***

“I need to use the bathroom.” Feyre is hopping back and forth on her feet once the session is over. “You guys head down to the parking lot without me.” She exits in a rush, leaving the two sisters alone. Nesta hisses in frustration, nearly chasing after Feyre so she won’t have to face the inevitable awkward conversation with Elain.

By the end of the session, it was Elain that broke and pleaded with Nesta, “Don’t do everything we want, then. Just keep doing better, the way you’ve already been doing. I’ll be happy with just that.”

Nesta was surprised that Elain had even noticed her efforts, but she retorted, “And how do you plan to do better?”

To which Elain twirled her hair and murmured something halfheartedly about, “I might be more open to taking criticism or whatever.”

Though it was the absolute bare minimum, it was still a relief for Nesta to hear Elain admit that she has flaws worth criticizing.

Now, Nesta clutches the straps of her purse and turns for the stairwell leading to the parking lot. Elain follows without comment.

Inside the stairwell, Nesta asks, “Have you spoken to Azriel since he left Velaris?”

Elain looks surprised at the sudden question, and doesn’t remember to be guarded when she answers, “No. Why?”

Nesta shrugs, her heels thumping loudly on the linoleum stairs. “Because I know what happened between you two. I know why he left.”

Elain halts midstep, grabbing Nesta’s arm and turning to face her with wide eyes. “What do you mean, you know? He told you?”

“He told Cassian, and Cassian told me.” Nesta hardly cares that she’s being a poor friend to Azriel by spilling all this to Elain, and continues, “If I had known he was such a coward, I would have kicked him out of our place a long time ago… but I figured I would get your input on it first.”

She’s never seen Elain look so genuinely pleading before. “Get my input on what?” Elain breathes. “What did he say about me? Was it something I did?”

At that torn face that borders on heartbroken, Nesta decides that she’ll do more than kick Azriel out of the cabin. She’ll kick him off the whole mountain.

She shoves Elain’s back to get Elain detached from her and moving down the stairs again, and as they walk, Nesta spills everything she knows. She tells Elain about Rhysand’s talent of shoving his nose into places it doesn’t belong, and how one conversation with him managed to convince Azriel to ditch Elain for good. She tells her about how instead of having a straightforward conversation with Elain, Azriel chose to leave the city and hide out in the mountains like a pussy. She might sound blunt, but Elain needs blunt. She needs to know the unfiltered truth of things.

By the time they reach the floor where their cars are parked, Elain is silent. “Did he really say that?” she finally asks quietly. “He said he wants me to hate him?”

“That’s what I heard.” After a moment, Nesta feels the need to add, “You should hate him, though. He fucked up bad.”

When Elain continues strolling for their cars without replying, concern bites at Nesta. “You are mad at him, right? And mad at Rhysand? You’re not going to forgive them, right?”

“I’m not a total pushover,” Elain snaps. She stares at the cement ground as they walk. “I’m just… more disappointed than anything else. He gave up so easily.” She chuckles without humor. “It sounds like he was looking for an excuse to get away from me.”

Nesta frowns. “I don’t think he would’ve spent so long moping around our house if he wanted to leave you.” Though they can never truly know what Azriel was thinking or feeling until he grows a pair and talks to Elain. Still, she shudders at having to defend him.

“I take it he doesn’t mope anymore?” Elain says.

Nesta doesn’t know how to answer that truthfully. She knows there’s more to Azriel than he lets her and Cassian see, and she knows he’s gotten better at keeping his feelings to himself. So she says, “It looks like he’s doing better, but I really don’t know.” They reach Elain’s car.

“Were you in love with him?” Nesta suddenly asks. Or worse, is she still in love with him?

Elain digs around for her keys in her purse. “You know how I am. Of course I was.”

“Not anymore, though?”

Elain looks up, keys now in hand. “It’s hard to still feel love for someone I haven’t talked to in two months.”

Then it wasn’t real love. Nesta is relieved, even though it doesn’t change the fact that Elain is hurting either way.

Elain jabs her keys at Nesta and says sharply, “Don’t you dare punish him for what he did. That’s for me to decide on.”

Nesta’s brow creases in refusal. “I’ll do what I need to do, and you do you.” She’ll have to be careful with her plotting, though, considering Azriel is Cassian’s brother.

“No.” Elain surprises Nesta with the force in her tone. “He’s your roommate and your friend. Keep treating him like it.”

Elain makes it sound easier than it is, and Nesta wants to argue until she sees Feyre heading down the parking lot toward them. “Fine,” she grumbles halfheartedly.

Elain gives her one final long look, not of threat but something else. “Thank you—for inviting us today.” That’s all she says before getting in the driver’s seat of her little red car. At the same time, Feyre catches up to them.

“Where are you parked?” Feyre pants as she approaches Nesta. She sounds a bit out of breath, like she ran to get here before Nesta could drive off alone.

Nesta points down the lot to where her scrappy old car is waiting for her, and Feyre straightens up with a grim smile. “I’ll walk you.”

Nesta knows that arguing isn’t worth it, so she allows Feyre to trail her the rest of the way to her car. Once they reach the old thing, Nesta gives a curt goodbye and heads straight for the driver’s door. Before she can touch the handle, Feyre attacks her from behind with a hug.

“Get off me, freak!” Nesta tries to jostle her way out of Feyre’s arms. She tries being nice to her sisters one time and this is what she gets—

Feyre only squeezes her tighter. “You don’t have to hug back. Just let me love you my way.”

Nesta squirms for another second before stilling. Swallowing tightly, she stares at the reflection of herself and Feyre in the car door window. One of her hands goes to where Feyre’s hands are clasped around her stomach, and she stands there without moving. She can’t remember the last time she shared affection with a family member like this, but it must have been before their mother died.

The warmth at Nesta’s back doesn’t leave, like Feyre is trying to pour all her understanding into the hug. Silently saying, I’m finally starting to get it.

In a way, Nesta is starting to get it, too. After all, how do sisters with such a complicated history begin to forgive each other?

Not by apologizing, but by doing better in the future.

***

On her way home, Nesta remembers at the last minute to stop by Gwyn’s apartment to pick up one of her sweaters. She doesn’t know when Gwyn started raiding her closet like it was a free mall, but she has a school event next week and doesn’t plan on letting her nicest clothes rot at Gwyn’s forever.

Nesta enters using the key beneath the doormat, knowing Gwyn is at work and won’t mind her stopping by. She scans the living and dining areas for a glimpse of brown cashmere, but only finds scattered books and a disorganized mess. Her fingers twitch with the urge to stop and tidy up the place, but she continues hunting for the sweater. Gwyn promised it would be waiting in plain sight for her.

Realizing the scatter-brained girl probably forgot to put the sweater out for her, Nesta pauses in the hallway leading to Gwyn’s bedroom and bites her lip. She doesn’t know if bedrooms are off limits or not, considering how often Gwyn and Emerie have barged into hers, but she knows she doesn’t want to make a second trip here just for a sweater.

Without giving it further thought, she strides into Gwyn’s room—

And yelps to find Gwyn on the bed.

Except she isn’t alone, and there’s definitely another body under the dark green blanket with her, and whoever it is definitely has their head between her legs.

Nesta spins away at the same time she hears Gwyn’s cry of surprise. She braces one hand against the doorjamb and presses the other to her freezing cold face, not having any words for what she just saw.

“Nesta?” Gwyn calls from behind her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Um, have you seen my sweater? It’s the expensive one.” She’ll just grab it and leave. Or maybe she’ll just leave—yes, that sounds like a good idea.

“Nesta?” a new, deeper voice repeats.

Gwyn hisses, and Nesta freezes because she recognizes that voice. She wants to be wrong so badly, but she has to whirl back around to confirm for herself.

“Azriel?”

***

a/n: i decided to cut this chapter short and add an extra one to flesh out my silly little gwynriel subplot. so if there’s anything specific or random you wanna see happen in the next chapter tell me bc i might have space for prompts!!

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook a favor: @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea

[trampohlena]

Okay, so after last night’s episode I would just like to say that Supercorp IS Endgame. I’d also like to point out the various reasons as to why Kara and Lena are not only soulmates but true twin flames.

For those reading this post who have never heard of the term twin flame: “A twin flame is your own soul, shared across what appears to be two physical beings. It’s one soul, split into two bodies.” -Google’s definition.

For those who are spiritually inclined and have a proclivity for indulging esoteric philosophies; Lena and Kara are ABSOLUTELY twin FUCKING flames 🔥🔥🔥!!

Here are the reasons why:

1. Their drastically different childhoods that resulted in remarkably similar trauma.

Both Kara and Lena have experienced great loss throughout their life. Both mourned the death of their parents, and life as they knew it, at a very early age. Both were shipped off to a foreign land, forced to leave behind everything they knew, in hopes for a brighter/safer future.

Albeit, Lena got the shorter end of the stick in regards to unconditional love, but both were given a second chance and a new start...and yet, they still never fit in, or felt like they truly belonged.

Although they individually have dealt with said trauma in different ways (Lena by pushing away those who try to get too close, and Kara by holding on tightly to those she holds dear) both of their actions are motivated by the same subconscious fear that they HAVE never and WILL never TRULY belong. All while yearning for a sense of “home”.

2. They are opposite reflections of each other; true “mirror souls”, if you will.

Physically, aesthetically, economically, and emotionally—they are complete “mirrors” of one another.

Kara is strong, physically powerful, cut from marble, all hard edges and sharp lines—except for her face. Lena is clearly not as physically powerful, she is soft, all curves, and exudes the grace of the Devine feminine energy—except for her face, which is hard edges and sharp jaw lines. You see what I’m saying?

Aesthetically and economically go hand in hand of course. Lena’s exorbitant wealth is evident in her high-end designer appearance; whereas Kara’s aesthetic is more humble and grounded, and prioritizes comfort over “fashion”. (Let’s admit it. Some of Kara’s fashion choices have been questionable. She clearly rocks the chinos and button-downs better than anything else in that eclectic closet of hers she refuses to come out of 😏)

Emotionally...oh honey. Do I need to say more? I won’t say much but I will say this: Kara is the sun and Lena is the moon. They compliment each other in a way that ensures the world keeps turning.

3. Their individual strengths are the other’s individual weakness and vice versa.

Goes along with the aforementioned “opposite reflection” point above but I’ll expand a bit further in regards to their specific personality traits.

Lena is predominately analytically driven, whereas Kara is emotionally driven. Lena is good in crowds, Kara is not (overwhelmed). Lena is introverted, Kara is extroverted. Lena is detail oriented and has the memory of an elephant, Kara is clumsy and as forgetful as a Pisces (but hey, she has a lot on her plate and barely any free time to balance it). Lena eats like a rabbit-bird-hybrid and Kara eats like a garbage disposal. Kara loves giving and receiving hugs and other forms of physical affection whereas Lena does not (UNLESS it’s from Kara, of course). Etc. Etc. you get the picture.

4. Now this one is the DEAD GIVEAWAY. Undeniable, irrefutable PROOF that Lena and Kara are twin flames.

They are LITERALLY completing what is know as the Twin Flame Journey or the Twin Flame Union.

The stages of Twin Flame Union are roughly as follows:

1. Yearning for “the one”. I think every human being that believes in love experiences this whether it’s throughout their entire life, or only their adult life until they meet this person but yeah. You get it. Kara has always wanted that “Wapow!” moment.

2. Glimpsing/meeting “the one”. Whether it’s only for a short moment, an extended meeting, or perhaps merely locking eyes with them as you pass each other by...you feel immediately connected. There is an instant soul recognition when meeting them, so much so that you could have sworn you’ve met them before or that it’s as if you’ve known each other your whole lives.

Remember when Kara met Lena? And she was gaga-eyed over Lena? Or when Lena felt so comfortable around a new acquaintance that she granted an almost stranger unbridled access to her office? Or how about when Red Daughter flew to America (the country she was taught to hate), with no recollection/memories of Kara’s relationship with Lena (again, the woman she was taught to hate), all because she felt PULLED to do so. And then when she did meet Lena she looked at her and practically drooled over her as if Lena was a double XL cheeseburger with extra special sauce from Big Belly Burger? Like, biiiitch 👀

3. Falling in love. Need I say more? Fine, again, I will. You CANNOT tell me that there is no way in hell that these two morons are anything BUT in love with each other. That’s a lot of double negatives and I appplogize so let me reiterate for clarification: THEY ARE IN LOVE AND YOU CAN’T CHANGE MY MIND!

And at this point is it so freaking BEYOND platonic love, the show cannot explain it away or sweep it under the “just close friends” rug. No. Kara used her Fifth Dimensional Wish (she literally could have wished her entire planet didn’t explode) and she said “make Lena not mad at me, I’m sad 😔” 👀. Mmmkay. Not to mention Lena picking Supergirl over Jack, her former lover. Or the plethora of other times Lena chose Kara/Supergirl over everyone else she knew. Mmkay.

4. The fairytale relationship/friendship. Lena has finally found someone she can depend on, be vulnerable with, support her without judgement, trust with her life etc. and Kara has finally found a true best friend, not her sister, not Kenny who she didn’t realize was her best friend till after he passed? And now he’s not dead?? But her one true best friend that she felt she didn’t need to be neither Supergirl, nor Kara Danvers, but rather Kara Zor-El around (despite Lena not knowing that little tidbit of information).

They were each other’s best friend. Each other’s person. They were happy.

5. Outer Turmoil and Inner Purging—Supergirl and Lena fight. Lena still does not know that Kara is indeed Supergirl and does not pick up on the brewing tension between herself and Kara.

Kara of course is riddled with guilt and her relationship with Lena becomes strained. This outer turmoil creates inner purging by bringing out negative traits in each other. I.E. Lena hiding kryptonite and also Kara asking James to spy on her. Shit gets messy but they still try to make it work.

6. The Runner and the Chaser/Separation Stage—Tensions mount between the two and Lena FINALLY learns about Kara’s secret. And she has a choice to make. So what does she do? She runs. Not physically but emotionally. She completely withdraws from not only Kara and their friends but also withdraws from herself.

She literally experiences cognitive dissonance and becomes someone she is not. Someone other people made her believe she was on the inside, even though Kara knows that it isn’t. And so, Kara chases her.

Lena becomes the runner and Kara becomes the chaser as they navigate this separation stage.

Continuously running and continuously chasing.

7. The Surrender and dissolution stage—they’re fucking done. They’re tired. They’re exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally after all the bullshit they put each other through as well as all the bullshit Lex and the Phantom Zone put them through.

They come to an impasse in regards to Lex and realize the only way to defeat him is to work together, as a team. (El Mayarah anyone?)

They surrender to their emotions and to each other as their egos dissolve and their souls expand after having learned invaluable life lessons. The major one being: THEY CANNOT LIVE HAPPILY WITHOUT EACH OTHER!

8. The last stage that we have yet to see but we fucking better or else I’m gonna January 6 the CW studio building—“Oneness”.

This time, I’m not gonna say more.

So, in conclusion: Supercorp is Endgame because Lena Luthor and Kara Zor-El Danvers are the literal definition of a twin flame, soulmate connection. They are the same soul, manifested in two physical forms, for the sole purpose of expanding their soul’s consciousness.

They deserve to be happy, they deserve to be together. Not only does their union parallel some of the greatest love stories throughout history, i.e. Romeo and Juliet, Darcy and Bennet, Superman and Lois (duh) it would also break the curse of generational karma and illustrate to anybody who watches the show that the only person who defines who you are is YOU. Not a name, not a legacy, not society’s expectations, YOU. And most importantly of ALL...it would showcase that love truly does conquer all.

I rest my case.

TPTB, make Supercorp Endgame or kick rocks ✌️😘

Sincerely,

An empassioned fan with way too much time on her hands.

[deejadabbles]

Heres some post-canon-Atem-stays-AU headcanons bc I will forever be in denial that the ending of ygo ever happened.

First off can we all address the fact that Atem would have an accent!?! He knows Japanese bc of Yugi but once he has his own body back, his muscles and brain are used to different speech patterns, therefore we get an accent! The first time the gang hears him talk and this (adorable) accent they're floored but love it, it kinda helps further cement that he really is his own person apart from Yugi (not that the gang really needs that but still).

I think this would also lead to Yugi asking Atem to teach him some Ancient Egyptian. He says it just because he's interested but really he wants Atem to feel slightly less alone now that literally no one else speaks his language.

Also. Contrary to what some (*cough*Kaiba*cough*) think, Atem knows how to work modern tech. Like, come on he shared Yugi's body for years, he knows how to work a phone and computer. Now, he may be a bit of an old man and prefer not to use some modern things, but he's competent at least.

(okay okay but can we entertain the idea of Atem making "back in my day" jokes bc he thinks it's funny and Honda n Jonouchi take to calling him "old man" and it's just a big running joke between everyone?? that'd be great.)

Another misconception I think Atem would prove wrong is that he actually doesn't have all too much trouble adjusting to being a "commoner" and having to live a normal, rather un-luxurious, life. Again, he spent years watching Yugi interact with the world and live in it as someone who wasn't royalty, or even rich, and did that with no context of his previous life.

So yeah when Atem returns to earth with his own body he doesn't like...expect to have everything provided for him, or be waited on hand and foot like some ppl expected since he was royalty. Sure, he may not actively think "oh, I have to get a job in order to live now" on his own (mostly bc I think he's just still amazed he's alive at all, a lot of things don't come to mind), but when the subject comes up Atem isn't astonished or taken aback by the idea or anything weird, logically he knows he has to provide for himself now and knows at least the basics of how to accomplish that in modern times.

Okay but seriously can we all take a minute imagining Atem getting a fast food or clerk job to get by until he figures out what he wants to do next. Jou and Honda thought he'd be too prideful to "stoop that low" as ppl say, but Atem's fine with it. If dishing out fries to shitty customers or ringing up cigarettes at a gas station ensures that grandpa and Yugi don't have to carry him through life he's fine with it.

That being said, I can see Atem just being...forgetful that he has to take care of himself sometimes. He's not ignorant of the modern world, but he also has his memories back now, so I can see him laying in bed for a good 10 min before he finally remembers "oh yeah servants aren't coming to dress me, okay lets do this". And sure he knows the basics of life from his time with Yugi, like cooking and doing laundry for himself. But there's times where he just runs out of clean clothes bc he forgot to do laundry, things like that, but hey that's stuff even us non-ex-royals do as Adults so that's okay.

My point is that Atem adjusts to the modern world and not being royalty really well. He's just a forgetful dork sometimes.

Okay but going back to my "Atem gets an entry-level job" headcanon. Now I'm thinking about Kaiba finding out that Atem got a fast-food job instead of coming to him for work. Next thing Atem knows Kaiba storms in (probably cutting the line because of course he would) and starts this melodramatic speech about how no one has the right to employ the rival of Seto Kaiba besides SETO KAIBA himself.

Atem, who was already chewed out by a customer for getting the wrong sized drink, is having NONE of this and is completely ignoring him, trying to serve the next customer in line. When all Atem will say to him is "sir if you wont buy anything please leave" the petty giraffe known as Kaiba slams a pile of bills on the counter ....this then leads to Atem matching his pettiness! You know that tiktok, it's basically that. Atem takes the entire stack of bills, looks Kaiba dead in the eye, and tells him to get his own chicken nuggets.

Next thing we know Atem's managers are trying to pry them apart because Kaiba hopped the counter. There are nuggets and fries everywhere, someone threw a large coke, the customers are filming. It's a big mess.

OMG imagine the headline "Local billionaire has melt down at McDonald's"

Okay, moving on from that, sorry I just had to get that outta my head.

Once again I'm going to drive home my "touch starved Atem" headcanon by saying that Atem actually likes not being royalty in his 2nd life because Yugi and his friends aren't afraid to show him affection. This boy craves touch so much and is loving the fact that no one thinks it's offensive to hug him. Atem's the type that once he's comfortable with someone, expect hugs for every hello and goodbye. He's also known for putting his hands on shoulders and sometimes playing with hair (only if the other is comfortable with it of course!).

The hair-playing thing is because he has these precious memories of brushing and styling Mana's hair when they were younger (and once or twice being able to beg Mahad to join their hairstyling sessions). Now he loves doing it because he equates it with affection and unconditional friendship. He especially loves playing with Ryou's hair since it's so long and soft, and even bought Ryou these tarot card themed hairpieces just so he could style his hair with them.

After experimenting with alcohol a bit, Atem finds that he likes some wine cooler-type drinks but sometimes he'll crave a beer, since that was the drink of choice in ancient egypt. He weirds ppl out though because he prefers them warm, cold beer is too harsh on his sensitive teeth and he's just not used to it. Also, it took a long time to find a beer brand he likes because most aren't up to the quality he had "back in his day" lol.

At first Atem only knows how to cook basic things (again, what Yugi knows) but he soon realizes that he enjoys cooking. He gets a Pinterest account just so he can save recipes he wants to try (he starts saving other things though, he likes aesthetic boards and interior design!). The whole gang ends up loving this because he cooks meals for them sometimes and they're so good! While they're still in high school he makes Bentos for everyone about once a week and it's the highlight of their week <3

He does get a bit sad though, when he tries to recreate meals from his culture and they just don't taste quite right.

oKaY I WAS going to go on about what career I think Atem would eventually pursue, but they got really long and this is already long so I'm going to put them in their own post. All I'll say right now is: college student Atem and later, professor Atem.

That's all for now, expect more in the future though because I will never not support Atem stays AUs <3

[ellana-ravenwood]

“You are not hard to love” - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Something very VERY quick, that I suddenly felt compelled to write, once again in the middle of the night. I didn’t plan on writing it, but here we are. This is for anyone who ever felt like they were “hard to love”. You’re not. You just haven’t found the right person...Anyway, here. For you : 

__________________________________________________

To be “hard to love” is a character flaw Bruce always felt he had. 

It was actually hard, to exist with this knowledge, no matter how little he tried to make himself feel. Or not feel, for that matter. 

As “Brucie Wayne”, a lot of people liked him, and the rest hated him for being so arrogant and smug. There were no inbetween. 

Many people judged him to be just another idiot with a lot of money. They hated his guts. Or they admired him for his self-confidence. Still thinking, though, that he was a bit of a dunce. 

It was fine. He wanted them to think that of him. To see him for someone he really wasn’t. So it’d blur the line, so they’d never guess who the Batman really was. 

As a result, it was difficult, to love, truly love, “Brucie Wayne”. Then again, he wouldn’t want anyone to love him for what he wasn’t. This public persona of him, would never know real love. It was fine. 

But his real self. His real self. 

Batman. 

Was probably the number one reason Bruce felt he was so hard to love... 

Who would want to put up with this shit ? Who, in their right mind, would want to love a man like him ? Bruce knew himself very well. Unfortunately. 

Sometimes, even him couldn’t stand himself. 

He knew he could be abrasive, arrogant, self-important, cold, too focus on a task at hand to care about anyone’s feelings etc etc...He knew that his real self, the one he showed more with his Batman side, wasn’t very likable. 

He found it hard, to connect to others. It was hard to stay connected anyway, when he was always stuck in his own head. 

He knew himself very well. He did. He knew how he was, and he couldn’t possibly see anyone putting up with it, and loving him. 

He didn't even like himself very much...

Every single time he fell in love, things didn’t end well. Because he’s too high maintenance. Because it’s hard to keep up with him and his moods...even for someone like Selina Kyle. 

Even she, whom he felt understood him more than anyone he met before, got tired of his games. Ah, but she was also too fiercely independent for what he wanted. Mmm...But who was he fooling ? He knew she’d never stay too long with him, not only because she was independent, but because he was too difficult to be with. 

And it hurt. It really did. 

Because deep down, what Bruce really wanted...It’s love. Real love. True love. Unconditional love. As stupid as it might sound, to anyone knowing him. Ah but, if you truly knew him, it all made sense. 

He would never admit it, not even to himself, but his fear of being completely abandoned ran deep. And his want of finding someone who would accept him for who he truly was was even deeper. 

But he was hard to love. 

Who could ever put themselves through the ringer like that, and love someone like Bruce Wayne ? Like...Like Batman ? 

And then...then you came in. 

************

He still thought he was hard to love. Difficult to be with. 

Your relationship, at that time, was somewhat new. It hadn’t been serious for long. But serious it was, in Bruce’s eyes, at least. 

Ah but he kept thinking he was too hard to love. That you would leave for sure, once you would realize it. His insecurities got the best of him often, even as he tried to ignore them and just enjoy what he had for the time being. 

Up until...

It happened shortly after his first real fight with you. He had one of his “dark day” (which he didn’t have much anymore), where he would be ultra-focus on his Batman work, and be a jerk to any outside distraction. 

Except you would have none of it, as you were trying to tell him something important. And thus, the fight began. 

And he shut down. Put up walls, once again, between him and you. Because that’s what he did. And it made everything worst, of course. 

He couldn’t stand the flood of feelings that came from being too emotional. Angry because of the fight, sad too, and absolutely terrified he might lose you if you guys fought enough for you to realize he’s just...Too hard to love. 

So he suppressed his emotions. As usual. It was much easier for him to give you the silent treatment than go through the pain of talking it out. It was too overwhelming for him, he wasn’t good at the whole “feeling things”. 

He was too afraid he’d say something he would dearly regret. He knew it was healthier, to talk it out. But he just couldn’t. He couldn’t deal with those emotions. And so he shut you out, you got frustrated, and then Dick tried to...

The sweet little boy tried to get you two to talk, to calm down, and Bruce snapped at him. He didn’t meant to. He instantly regretted it. But he did.

Which was the last straw that broke the camel back for you. You told him to “go to hell”, took Dick’s hand (who looked absolutely crestfallen, just remembering his facial expression made Bruce’s heart hurt), and left. 

Bruce felt like this was it. He just ruined the one good thing in his life. 

The one thing that, after years of being stuck in the dark, brought him light. 

You, and his newly adopted son. 

Lights of his life. 

He needed you two. But he understood if you decided to go...He was too hard to love. He would let you go, if it meant you’d be happier (what a fool). 

He was too much, too much. 

For hours, hours and hours, he beat himself down for it. Stuck in his own head once again. Hating himself. 

Sitting alone in front of the batcomputer, barely paying attention to what is scrolling on the screen...Bruce felt like shit. 

Why ? Why did he have to be like that ?

Why couldn’t he...be someone who was easy to love ? Who wasn’t a constant challenge to everyone around him ? 

Yes. That’s it. He was a challenge. A challenge who could’nt-

Footsteps. Taking him out of this darkness spiraling downward and downward. 

And it’s you. You’re right there. Looking at him critically, and he’s sure...

He’s sure you came to break up with him. That he shut you out one too many times. That him being a jerk to little Dickie was too much. That-

“There’s-”

He couldn’t. He couldn’t hear you say it. So he cuts you off, with words that made his heart bleed : 

“I know, we’re done.”

“Excuse me ?”

He can’t look at you. Can’t bear it. He turns around, and continues, trying to sound as neutral as possible, trying to not let his voice crack, going right to the point, as fast as possible, so he can keep it up : 

“I went too far. Too many times. You’ve...had enough of me. I understand.” 

“What ?” 

In your voice, he can hear surprise. Ah. You were too nice to realize that one day, it would come to this. That one day, you were doomed to leave him because he was too much. 

You were too...good for him, to him. Too good to realize he knew it all along. 

And so here you were, surprised he figured it out. Surprised he knew, before you told him, that you were leaving him. 

“I know I’m hard to love. I do. And you-”

“Wait wait wait, uh ? You think I’m gonna bail out because you were a jerk ? You think you’re too hard to love ? Oh Bruce...”

There’s a short pause, as if you’re searching for your words. 

He looks up at you, feeling a dash of hope invade his heart. He tries to fight it, but he can’t. Because...Because...Finally, you say : 

“Bruce. When we started this, when it became serious, when I decided to jump in your life and in Dick’s...I knew what I was getting myself into. I know you enough. I know the Batman side of you. I know you have moments you’re just...you’re just too stuck in your own head, and in your pain. I know.” 

You put a soft hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at you by raising his head. 

“I know what you think of yourself. And I know what others think of you. You’re arrogant, cold, unforgiving blahblahblah insert many more words saying how difficult it is for you to show your true self and emotions. But...But I also know that’s not all there is to you. I know you, and others, are wrong about you. Too hard on you. I know you.” 

You take a step closer to him, and lay your forehead against his. 

“I know you’re funny, like, seriously hilarious. No one ever made me laugh like you. I know you care, sometimes too much, and it’s why things are so hard for you many times. I know you’re actually a great dad, no matter what you think. I know many admire you, you’re truly amazing. You’re smart, caring, loving...I know that it’s hard for you to open up, to love...but when you do, when you do...You love really hard, Bruce. Fully, intensely, passionately, with your entire being. I never felt so loved, than when you hold me. When you-”

There’s a short pause, and Bruce realizes it’s because you’re blushing and have to regain control of yourself again. It doesn’t surprise him. What you’re saying right now, makes his heart beat a hundred time faster, and he can feel his face burning. 

Only you, ever made him blush so...

You take a deep breath, and say : 

“All my life Bruce. All my life I felt I was hard to love.” 

At this, Bruce can’t help but scoff, and he’s about to say something but you cut him off sternly : 

“I’m not done, mister. As I was saying, my entire life, I too, felt like I was hard to love. But when I met you...When I met you, I realized I felt that way because the people around me always made me feel like that. Always made it sound like it was a chore, to put up with me. That they could love me without making any compromises, while I had to change completely for them. Because I was too “difficult” you know ? Because sometimes, I too would have mood swings, or a need to be alone, or...just things that are not considered normal. That are associated with being hard to love. And I was surrounded with people who made me feel bad about this. Who made me feel like I had to change to be normal, and to finally have love.” 

Your arms snake around his shoulders now, and you hold him tight against your chest, kissing the top of his head. 

“You made me realize, Bruce, my Bruce, that...That I’m not actually hard to love. That I was just surrounded with people who weren’t willing to make the effort for me. Which is fine. No-one has to put up with anything if they don’t want to. But...Nobody is hard to love. They just never found the right person. The one willing to fight for them. It’s what you made me realize.”

He holds you back now. With all his might. What is this stinging feeling in his eyes ? 

“I love you. Unconditionally. I know who you are. And I want to fight for you. I will always fight for you. I’m not promising that I’ll never grow frustrated, and yell at you back, to then storm off. I’m not saying we’ll never fight. I’m just saying...It doesn’t matter. Because I love you. And I’ll always find my way back to you.” 

In your eyes, he can see it, there’s a strong light shining. 

One that proves him you love him. Deeply, and unconditionally. 

One that led him out of a dark pass many times before. 

One that proved...That proved maybe, he wasn’t that hard to love. 

Not when he finally found the right one. 

He couldn’t believe you ever thought YOU were hard to love. Ah. Has anyone in the world ever been as perfect for each other as you two were ?

“I love you.” 

He says. His entire being, all his emotions, poured in those three little words. 

“I love you too Bruce. And believe me, saying those words to you ? It’s very easy.”

His arms around you tightens even more. And then you add : 

“Now that this is out of the way...We can talk more about this later, but for now, there’s more pressing matters at hands. I actually came down here to ask if...if you wanted some ice cream ? Dick and I went out for a little bit, and brought all our favorite. Yours, too. We thought we’d need a “pick-me-up”. All of us. As a family. We’re supposed to go through things together...And ice cream helps, yes ?”

He nods. His throat too tight to say anything. And for the moment, it’s fine. He’ll tell you later. He’ll tell you how much you mean later. If he can’t find the words, he’ll find other ways to show you. 

You know anyway. You know he loves you. Just as strong as you love him. 

He loves you just as you are. You love him just as he is. 

“I love you.”

He whispers, and you smile at him, of this life-changing smile that showed him the light... You peck him on the lips, before taking his hand and walking out of the batcave, to the Manor. 

Where ice cream, and a very sweet little boy eager to raise his dad’s spirit, were waiting. 

Unconditional love. 

Bruce Wayne, wasn’t hard to love. And now, he was surrounded with the right people to make him understand this.

__________________________________________________

I just have a lot of feelings about Bruce Wayne haha. I just wanted to write a little something. It also stems from my own feelings. I’m sure we all felt at some point, that we were/are impossible to love. That no one will ever put up with our shit...yet there are people unwilling to give up on you, people who make you “better” etc etc. So. Yeah. I wrote this very quickly. Once again, watch me feel too much in the middle of the night haha. Sorry if this isn’t very good, it’s one of those “bonus” story I suddenly think about and write quickly in one sitting. I enjoyed writing it, but I admit it took less effort than most stories. So. Yes. 

If you liked it, don’t hesitate to leave a little feedback and reblog if ya want :). 

[goldentournesol]

The Receptionist and the Profiler (Seven)

Chapter Seven: Sweet Fulfilment

(Spencer Reid x f!Reader)

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

The silence that fell upon them in Rossi’s backyard was so heavy, no one dared to break it. Derek was brave enough to stand and follow Y/N into the house, most likely to drive her home. The rest received the message and began to dwindle away, until only Ashley and Spencer were left.

Spencer absentmindedly fiddled with the top of his cane, still stunned into silence from Y/N’s heavy confession. He could feel Ashley’s eyes on him, but didn’t bother looking at her. His mind was racing ten times faster than it ever had before.

Ashley breathed out a sigh and kept it simple and straightforward, “Do you love her?” She asked softly. 

He wished to hear some malice in her tone, thinking it might make him feel something other than shock, but all he heard was curiosity. He didn’t even have to think to find the answer, but which answer was he willing to give?

“Yes.” He said, not even having the audacity to see the reaction it brought upon her eyes. 

He should have felt horrible for hurting Ashley, but he couldn’t bring it upon himself to feel anything but relief as he replayed Y/N’s words in his head. He heard her move to stand up and remained motionless as she left him on the couch. She went inside and Spencer deduced that she’d probably already taken her car and returned home. He’d have to find a different ride home but that was the least of his problems right now.

No one knew what to tell him as he passed them in the spacious living room a half hour later. No one knew where to start with him, but their unrelated hushed conversations continued on. Y/N had stupefied them all, but him especially. His heart should have been soaring because of her confession, but he knew he’d have to give Ashley a proper goodbye. She deserved one, even though he had quite literally used her in the most ungentlemanly of ways. He hadn’t let themselves get too invested in the relationship, though. He’d always kept her at arm’s length for fear of getting too attached. 

The next day, he’d promptly gone to her apartment and given a heartfelt apology. She’d let him know how hurt she was and that she was not going to be returning to the BAU. He still felt bad, but once again, he felt like he could breathe. Like the air knew its way back to his lungs. 

The weekend came and went, silence on both ends. Both lovers just stewing in their own pots. Both pots teeming with unadulterated, unconditional love and affection for one another. It could barely be contained at this point. Time seemed to float by and before they knew it they were back in the office. A new month had just begun. She felt new, she felt like she’d peeled off a layer of her skin, one that had been holding her back, trapping her within the confines of herself.

With the new month, she was called in early to have the routine monthly meeting with Hotch where they went over the itinerary of the next month. They liked to plan whatever they could given that half of the BAU’s job was unpredictable.

“So, I have here the form that Strauss asked for. Also, the 6th floor’s printer is a literal piece of junk and I’ve typed up a formal proposal so that maybe we could get a new one? I coordinated with Penelope about the funds and she says there are sufficient funds for a new printer.” Y/N said, handing Hotch a typed document. 

Even after all these years, her dedication to this job continues to blow him away. He’d come to see her as a work-daughter. He has taught her so much over the past few years and he’ll always have a special place in her heart. He nodded, glancing over the document.

“Great, I trust you and Penelope will pick an adequate printer.” He paused, sending her a smile. He noticed the slight glimmer in her eye, “I know you’ve been having a rough few months, Y/N, and it’s not technically my place to get involved in your personal life, as your boss, but as your friend, I hope you know that I am available to help you in any way I possibly can.”

Her whole face formed into a fond smile, “Thanks, Hotch and yes, I know.” She chuckled slightly.

“You are a dedicated employee and a wonderful person. If you ask me--” He was interrupted by his office door slamming open, showcasing an absolutely beaming Dr. Spencer Reid in the doorway.

“Hotch, I am so sorry to interrupt your meeting,” Spencer’s eyes flew from Hotch to Y/N, his attention now zeroed in on her. He leaned into the office, not fully entering, “are you free for dinner tonight?” he asked in a rushed manner, as if not getting a fast answer would somehow make him lose all the confidence he’d mustered up.

“M-me? Yes! I mean, yes, I’m free tonight.” Y/N answered, flustered at the interruption as well as the question. Spencer’s face split into a grin and he tapped the doorframe once awkwardly.

“Great, then...it’s a date.” He raised his brows and tried to lessen his grin as he snuck a glance at Hotch before gracelessly forming his lips into a line and scurrying out of the small office.

Y/N turned back to Hotch quickly with eyes widened with disbelief and a face totally failing to contain the utter joy she felt, “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

Hotch only responded with a knowing smile at the precious interaction he’d just witnessed firsthand.

First dates were supposed to be awkward, however, their first date was anything but. Spencer had showed up with a fresh haircut, his shoulder length hair cut into a dreamy, swoopy style that sat along his forehead comfortably. It was so much more attractive than Y/N could outwardly-or inwardly- admit. His knee was now fully healed and no longer needed his cane which allowed them to walk around the city freely.

They’d both realized how stupid and blind they’ve been over the years. Y/N confessed to feeling especially stupid for staying with Anderson for so long, even when she had realized her true feelings for Spencer. Time had passed them by like it was nothing. 

Spencer, like the true gentleman he is, insisted he’d walk her home. He’d feel more comfortable knowing she was safe, not to mention that he was extremely curious about her new apartment. He hadn’t expected Y/N to invite him in, but of course she did, because that was who she was. She was warm and inviting, and if she was being honest, she didn’t want the night to end yet.

“I’m sorry about the mess, I haven’t really been in the right headspace these past few weeks.” She said, walking him inside. He took a look around and noticed a few unpacked boxes out of place but he definitely wouldn’t characterize it as messy. 

He chuckled softly and shrugged, “Trust me, it’s fine.” Her shoulders dropped with relief slightly and she returned his lightheartedness by smiling and flopping onto the couch.

“It’s been so long since I’ve lived on my own. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the silence.” Y/N said, but only realized how sad it must have sounded after she said it. Spencer took a seat next to her on her small, but comfortable couch.

“I feel quite the opposite, I think I’ve been living on my own for--for a long time.” He said, thinking back to his days but pushing away the especially dark parts. 

She dared to glance at him, seeing him in her space was so...different. So refreshing. It’s like this apartment needed Spencer in it for it to feel complete. Or maybe that was her heart speaking. Maybe both the apartment and her heart needed Spencer to feel whole. Her glance had long been forgotten and had turned into a longing gaze instead.

“Spencer, I-” She gazed at him, feeling the words get caught up in her throat before she could have had the chance to voice them. Besides, what words would ever be able to convey the way she felt towards him? 

Words escaped her when he looked at her like that--all soft eyes and a fond, lopsided smile, despite his curiosity at her interrupted sentence. She made the mistake of glancing at his lips, the lips that were so appealing, practically calling her name. The ones she’d caught herself daydreaming about for years and years on end. His proximity was intoxicating and before she could doubt herself, she closed the gap between them, her hands attaching themselves to the lapels of his blazer to pull him ever so slightly closer.

His lips were just as warm and inviting as she’d remembered them, but this time the kiss tasted sweeter, it was no longer tainted with suppressed guilt and confusion. His lips tasted like certainty. It was clear that she’d finally found what she’d been missing all these years. The gentle push and pull of the kiss was invigorating to them both. His slightly calloused hands found her flushed cheeks, each thumb delicately caressing the delicate skin beneath the pads of his fingers. They’d savored the kiss so much that when they pulled away, two, three, four tender, short kisses followed the initial one.

Almost as if they’d never get enough of each other. Like if the world was ending, it wouldn’t matter, they’d go peacefully, knowing that this is what it was like. That this is what quenched thirst felt like.

“I love you.” She murmured against his lips, breath uneven. She’d known it for as long as she could remember and he’d known it too, but she was past the point of timidness to admit it now. There’s no use in prolonging it, not when she was this certain. 

The pad of his thumb traced a line across her jaw slowly as he heard the words. His face couldn’t contain his smile, teeth almost clashing into each other from their closeness. His warm, amber eyes flitted to hers, visible comfort and reassurance filling his irises. He was transported back to Rossi’s garden when he’d first told her he loved her. She knew, she knew he loved her too, which is why it was so easy.

“I love you, too.” He murmured back, pressing another passionate kiss to her lips, as a quiet admission of love. She could feel the tears gather underneath her closed lids almost as quickly as relief flooded her chest.

They’d decided to keep things under the radar for a while, neither of them too eager to showcase their relationship to the world just yet, excluding Hotch of course. They did their best anyway--or at least they thought they did. Their recent smiley faces and cheery attitudes were not invisible to America’s top profilers and well, Penelope, who was perhaps the sharpest of them all, despite not being trained to analyze behavior like the others.

Exactly two weeks after their first date, Penelope cornered Y/N at her desk around lunchtime, right before the two lovebirds took their daily lunch walk. 

“Spill.” Penelope demanded, her colorful teapot earrings swayed, contradicting the sternness in her voice.

“What are you talking about?” Y/N gazed up at her with genuine confusion.

“Uh-uh, don’t give me that. I know something fishy is going on. I can smell it.” Penelope leaned in closer and began pointing fingers. Y/N barked a laugh.

“Garcia, nothing is going on. Please tell me what you’re talking about.” She laughed, amused at the sight of her friend being so outwardly nosey.

“You think I haven’t noticed you and Boy Wonder--” She was interrupted by a loud clearing of the throat noise from Spencer to announce his presence.

“Garcia, Derek said something about making hot chocolate in the kitchenette and you know how he dips the sugar spoon back into the chocolate mix? Yeah, you should probably--” Spencer lied through his teeth but Penelope wasted no time in rushing off to the kitchenette, groaning about how she hated finding extra sugar in the chocolate.

Spencer caught Y/N’s eye and they both burst out laughing. They quickly made their exit, whispering about how close of a call it was with Garcia. Little did they know, Rossi had caught every little bit of the very tender, intimate kiss they shared before the doors of the empty elevator had closed, leaving him shaking his head at the obliviousness of the two. 

The team decided to make a game out of it very quickly when they all realized. They wanted to see which of them could expose the couple the quickest.

 JJ found extreme joy in trying to set Y/N up with one of Will’s friends right in front of Spencer.

“Come on! This guy’s totally your type, Y/N.” JJ pushed, showing her a picture of a man on her phone, leaning towards her over the top of her desk. Y/N laughed uncomfortably and glanced with panic at Spencer who was watching curiously.

“I don’t know, I d-don’t think I have a type, JJ.” She tried to brush her off, continuing to laugh in discomfort. Emily and Derek almost split their lips as they bit them to try and keep from laughing. They watched Spencer shift nervously in his seat.

“I’m just not interested.” Y/N said, “Thanks, though.” JJ finally gave in and accepted that she’d lost the bet.

Emily tried her hand at “girl-talk”, hoping that maybe Y/N would slip up and tell her about Spencer, but to no avail. That woman’s lips were sealed shut.

Derek and Penelope both tried to follow them around but Spencer and Y/N were far too cautious at work now. Derek actually had to convince Penelope to take the moral high road and refrain from tracking their devices or hacking into their messages.

After trying and failing for so long, the team finally gave up on trying to rat them out and instead decided to respectfully wait for their announcement. 

Y/N realized that she hadn’t technically invited anyone over to her new apartment and decided to throw a somewhat delayed “welcoming party” for herself. She’d cooked dinner, which Spencer did his best to contribute to, decorated the place nicely, and invited the whole team over.

“Thank you all so much for being here. I know this has been a long time coming. I’ve missed our little get-togethers and thought it’d be fitting if I finally host one, given that I now have my own apartment.” Y/N spoke from her place at the head of the dinner table which had barely ever been used before this night. It was a tight squeeze, but her heart soared as she saw the faces of her caring coworkers and friends staring up at her. They all lifted their glasses and gave her a silent toast of appreciation.

Spencer stood from his seat that was to the right of Y/N’s and cleared his throat, “Also, we have an announcement to make.” He timidly began, catching the eager smiles. “Y/N and I are, finally, together.” He waited for the cheers of excitement but nothing but an eerie knowing silence befell the dinner table.

Something clicked in Y/N’s brain as she spotted Rossi handing Hotch something under the table not-so-discreetly, “You all knew?!” She gasped in disbelief. The team broke out into fits of laughter.

“The whole time!” Garcia guffawed. Spencer and Y/N shared a look of incredulity before breaking into laughter themselves. Y/N shyly hid her face in Spencer’s shoulder as he wrapped an affectionate arm around her back.

“You guys thought you were so sneaky.” Derek threw his head back, laughing.

“Wait, so what was all that about?” Y/N asked, referring to Rossi handing Hotch something, “You guys had a bet going?”

“Technically there were two bets going. Everyone else was determined to expose you, which they all failed at, thankfully, while Rossi and I had a separate bet. I said that you’d announce it first and Rossi apparently had more faith in the team.” Hotch explained, smirking triumphantly at Rossi, who appeared delighted despite having lost the bet.

“Bet or not, you two deserve each other. I’m glad you two are happy together. To the lovely couple.” Rossi raised his glass and everyone followed in pursuit.

Spencer turned to Y/N to place a sweet but chaste kiss on her lips, leading everyone to cheer in response.

There was little he could compare to the feeling he had then, but if he had to, he’d compare it to being whole.

previous chapter/epilogue

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[the-velvet-worm]

We need to talk about Mai.

The Avatar: The Last Airbender fandom is one that’s seen better days, that’s for sure. Even in its better days, it was full of ship wars and shit takes. It’s always been like that, despite how near-perfect the show is, and that’s nothing that can be helped. We all consume media differently, and that’s what makes so many movies and TV shows so great. Differing opinions are what create discussion and debate, and we should almost always at least entertain them to help get a better understanding of the thoughts and opinions of others. So… let’s dive into one of my most unpopular opinions.

Mai. We all know her as the knife-wielding goth girl, friend to Azula and girlfriend to Zuko. Many have come to the false conclusion that she’s all surface and no substance, that she never cared enough for Zuko, that she was too passive and uncaring and didn’t cater enough to the emotions of the people around her. She turned on Azula to save Zuko, and Ty Lee turned on Azula to save Mai. It’s one of (in my opinion, at least) the most badass and iconic moments of the show. Mai stealthily pinning down all the prison guards without spilling a single drop of blood, buying Zuko, Sokka, Suki and co. just enough time to escape the Boiling Rock is one of the best action scenes in all of ATLA, that much isn’t up for debate. But it’s also one of the most profound and selfless acts of love in the entire series. Zuko, whose mother poisoned his grandfather to save his life, who betrayed his uncle just as he was going to make a major heel turn as a person, was saved by a girl he broke up with… in a letter. I’ll get into the letter later. But for now, I want to unpack Mai’s sacrifice.

She knew exactly what she would be facing by saving Zuko. Azula was right there. And Mai still did it. She resigned herself to the fact that she would have to face Azula’s fury — and her lightning. Mai’s only defense? Her knives. It was a test of speed and precision. Or at least, it would’ve been, if Ty Lee hadn’t stepped between them and taken Azula down. The important part was that Mai was willing to die to save Zuko’s life. “I love Zuko more than I fear you,” is one of the most powerful lines of dialogue I’ve ever heard in my life. It confirmed two things: Mai loves Zuko (which she said with her actions as much if not more than her words) and Mai has only been friends with Azula as long as she has because she actually feared what Azula would do to her otherwise. It was never any secret who had the true power in the Fire Nation royal family — Mai knew that better than most. And still, even after Zuko ditched her in the middle of an invasion, she would’ve traded her life for his without a second thought.

Which leads me to my next point — the letter. Mai read a portion of it out loud. We saw Zuko write it just a few episodes prior. We know from context and dialogue that he didn’t want to leave her, he tells Sokka as much on their way to the Boiling Rock. In Zuko’s mind, he left Mai behind to protect her. But flipping it and looking at it from Mai’s perspective is so key to understanding why she was so hurt. This wasn’t just a case of a jerk boyfriend breaking up with his girlfriend through a text message. This was two traumatized teenagers who fell in love despite all odds, who were separated for three years, and were finally reunited… just for him to leave again. The first time Zuko left, he didn’t have a choice, as we all know. That’s fair. The second time? He did have a choice. He made the right choice. He knew it. We as the audience know it. But who didn’t know it was Mai — she expresses as much. She doubts herself and her relationship with Zuko because of it. She more or less infers that she feels their relationship has been built on a lie — and in truth, it partially has been. Zuko withheld information from her and withheld his feelings. Remember ‘The Beach’, toward the beginning of book 3? That episode where Mai and Zuko (and Azula and Ty Lee) all addressed their childhood trauma and finally began to be able to work through it? Mai didn’t shut down Zuko’s feelings — she actively encouraged him to share with her how he was feeling. In the same scene, Zuko claimed Mai didn’t care about anything, and at the end of the episode, she affirmed that although she had difficulty expressing her true emotions, she did care about Zuko. And I think it says a whole lot about her that even after having her heart broken by him, after opening up to him and offering a safe place for him and getting hurt as a result of that, she still couldn’t let him die.

What I’m getting at is… would a girl who REALLY didn’t care do that? I see a lot of people claim she didn’t listen to Zuko… when was that? In ‘Nightmares and Daydreams’, when she constantly tried to affirm him, comfort him, reassure him, and was met with silence? In ‘The Beach’ when he dumped all of his trauma on her and she sympathized with him but still held him accountable for his actions? She did nothing wrong in those instances. She was never in the wrong to demand decency from her boyfriend — he accused her of cheating because another man looked at her. In what world doesn’t she have a right to be upset about that?

Circling back to the first episode of book 3 — in a scene that many blow wildly out of proportion — Zuko is being his usual angsty self, having a moment of reflection and self-doubt. He’s afraid his father won’t accept him, that going home to the Fire Nation might be a mistake. It’s easy to forget that Mai wasn’t present for the death of Aang, so she has no idea what happened during that scene. She has no idea that Zuko wasn’t the one that killed Aang. She has no idea what Zuko’s been doing in the three years he’s been gone. So… in her head, she assumes Zuko’s just being his usual dramatic self, and makes a joke about not wanting to know his life story to put his mind at ease and assure him that his worries were misplaced. She wanted the same thing she thought Zuko wanted (and I say thought because, well… he never told her what he really wanted because *he* didn’t even know) and encouraged him to strive toward that. She waited for him for hours outside the war chamber in ‘Nightmares and Daydreams’, and when the meeting finally ended and he came back out, she enthusiastically congratulates him on it, she’s happy for him because with her limited knowledge of what’s actually going on in her boyfriend’s head, this is what he wants. Earlier in the same episode, he’s lamenting about not being invited, and then decides the meeting is dumb and he doesn’t want to go to it. And she agrees with him, again, simply just trying to affirm him and make him feel better. She supports him in all things — all things that she can to the best of her understanding of the things.

At the end of it all, communication is a two-way street — Zuko was shitty at expressing himself and so was Mai. That was something they both needed to work on separately in order to be able to come back together. Their separate and individual personal growth does not hinge on their relationship. Mai was not Zuko’s therapist, nor should she have been. She tried to be supportive and be there for him in the only ways she knew how with her very limited (but expanding) sense of sympathy. Mai was a person who never let herself care, at least not outwardly, lest she get her feelings hurt in the process. She did open up to Zuko, and encouraged him to do the same with her, offered him support, unconditional love, and a safe place, and he needed to do some growing away from her, and that’s fine. He should’ve communicated that to her a little better, and she should’ve tried to be more understanding from the start, but they’re still just teenagers. I don’t know many teenagers who can take what they know they are capable of emotionally handling and applying it to their interpersonal relationships as well as Mai does. I was a hell of a lot farther behind in my own emotional development than Mai was at 15.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Remember, Don't You Miss Us?

Prompt: hey, if you're taking requests for Sanders sides, can I request some angsty human au! familial sides? patton/janus as parents that get/have gotten divorced and (some of) the others move between houses or smth?? idk do what you want as long as its angsty with a happy ending

Thanks for the prompt, babe!

Read on Ao3

Warnings: divorced moceit at the start, they fix it, other than that you good

Pairings: parental moceit, errybody else is the kids

Word Count: 3738

The void never used to be as obvious.

Patton and Janus got divorced, their children split between the two houses. They manage to keep up appearances, but the emptiness never really goes away.

The kids decide to do something about it.

The void never used to be as obvious.

There were times when Patton would come downstairs, expecting to see at least someone else awake, perhaps Logan in the corner chair, curled around a mug of coffee and staring out the window, perhaps Roman at the table with his notebook out and his pen flying, or perhaps Virgil, just rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he tried to figure out what to do next. Remus wasn’t an early riser, but perhaps—on very rare occasions—there he would be, sprawled across the floor, playing with his toys.

But now there’s no one to make the coffee for Logan, no one to encourage Roman to write down his ideas, no one to chuckle softly at bleary little Virgil. No one to halfheartedly scold Remus for leaving his toys all over the floor.

Patton still goes to the coffee pot and turns it on, even if there are buttons on the top he doesn’t dare to touch. Logan asked him once why he refuses to change the settings, even if he doesn’t like the kind of coffee it makes. His hands had shaken too much to answer.

He still goes through all the motions of making breakfast, even if the sudden tug in his chest at the worry they won’t have enough eggs goes limp as he realizes there are only three of them in the house now. Roman asked him once why he was staring at the carton of eggs lying there on the counter. He’d shaken his head and said he was counting.

He still hesitates at the door too long when it’s time to take his kiddos to school, expecting a green blur to tug a blob of purple down the stairs so fast he worries they’re going to hurt themselves. Both Roman and Logan look at him confused when he wants to wait a little longer before taking them out to the car.

But mostly…

Mostly he misses the flash of yellow in the corner of his eye. He could never quite pull off the color, something about the way his undertones refused to cooperate or…something like that. His own wardrobe looks…smaller now, simpler. He never used to blend into the walls this much.

Mostly he misses the low voice coming from the other room, up the stairs, just over his shoulder. His own voice is too high, too bubbly to be properly sarcastic and the absence of that voice twisting words around and around and around. Or when it would soften, and oh how much he could drown in the softness.

Mostly he misses the gloved hands on his shoulder, the small of his back, around his waist, on his hips, cupping the nape of his neck. Patton hugs his kiddos all the time, but there was something about the drag of gloves against his clothes that made him tighten his hugs.

Mostly he misses waking up to someone else warm on cold nights.

The bed feels so much bigger.

No.

No, don’t go down that road, it only leads to crying and Roman and Logan trying frantically to fix it.

They couldn’t.

It wasn’t their fault, they’re kids. They didn’t deserve to have to fix these things, these were an adult’s responsibility, these were problems they wouldn’t know how to solve. It wasn’t their fault that Patton never learned when to stop pushing. It wasn’t their fault that Patton could never figure out where the lines were drawn. It wasn’t their fault that Patton could never stop crying, making it all about himself, never wanting to listen.

Patton scrubs a hand under his nose before it can start to drip.

No. No, it wasn’t their fault, it was—it is his.

It’s his fault they can’t see their brothers anymore, not like they used to.

It’s his fault their Papa went away.

It’s his fault that he couldn’t figure out how to love Janus.

But goodness, does he miss him.

———————————————

The room’s never felt this small before.

There were times when Janus would open the door and expect someone, anyone, to barrel into him before he could step over the threshold and words would tumble out, perhaps a new idea Remus had, perhaps something Virgil was worried about, perhaps Logan with a slew of new questions for him, or perhaps—if he was coming home on a night that Roman didn’t have an after-school club—it would be Roman, wrapping his arms tightly around Janus and refusing to let him go.

But now there’s no one to keep Remus supplied with new sketchbook paper, no one to sit quietly and talk through Virgil’s fears with him, no one to go on Wikipedia odysseys with Logan, and no one to beam at Roman.

Janus still walks to the bookshelf and runs his hand along the spine of the books, searching, searching for something to read that he hasn’t read in a while, and unbidden his mind will go directly to what puns he could make from the titles. Remus had looked up at him once as a chuckle forced its way out through his lips and asked him what was so funny. Janus had shaken his head and said something had just crossed his mind.

He still walks into a room and instinctively picks up a pen to toss into the corner, expecting a soft ‘thank you’ or an ‘ow!’ from the chair or the couch or the desk. Virgil had stared at him one time when he’d walked into the room and without thinking, grabbed a pen from the pen pot and chucked it across the room, eyes wide, wondering what was happening. Janus had dropped to the ground and done his very best to comfort the poor dear, saying that no, he wasn’t angry, he did that from a habit, it’s alright, it’s alright…

He still has the urge to buy another beanbag chair, even though the one they have right now fits the three of them perfectly, unable to get the worry of making the twins share for longer than absolutely necessary out of his head. Virgil and Remus had shrugged and said they’d be fine with having their own beanbag chairs, but they look too small all alone in the sea of fabric and small plastic balls. He’d shaken his head and said he prefers seeing them all together.

But mostly…

Mostly he misses the bright, bubbly laughter that would fill the house to bursting, drawing a smile to his lips at how unabashedly happy it was. The siren song would lure him from every corner of the house, even if he were knee-deep in work, just to see what made its owner so deliriously happy.

Mostly he misses the easy words, the sweet nothings, the effortless comfort. He’s a little too rough, too guarded, too intimidating to sound as gentle and kind and reassuring, he can’t be the softer kind of support that his sweeties need sometimes. That loss, the fumbling of his tongue, always makes those sobs sound so much louder.

Mostly he misses the shameless questions. How is he doing today, what can we do to help, you know we love you, right? Such selfless care, emanating from everywhere, unconditional support, that promise, he doesn’t know how anyone could do that. For someone for whom love still fit clumsily on his tongue, he was in danger of dying of thirst after years of feeling like he could drown in it.

Mostly he misses turning around and not seeing an empty space next to him.

Don’t start.

Not again.

You don’t deserve to miss something when you threw it away without caring.

This road only leads to silences, silences Remus tries to fill by being too big, too loud, too much, silences Virgil detests and hides away, waits out, curling around his security stuffie until feels it’s safe to come out again.

It won’t be.

It’s not their fault, they’re kids. They shouldn’t be trained to read every single emotional cue to make sure their worlds won’t be upended again, they shouldn’t have to try and take of their parent, they shouldn’t be worrying about what’s going on with a problem they can’t fix. It isn’t their fault that Janus never learned how to let himself be vulnerable. It isn’t their fault that he never learned how to bite back some of his harsher remarks. It isn’t their fault that Janus could never stop trying to defend himself from someone who would never hurt him, never wanting to listen.

Janus takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

It’s his fault. Of course, it’s his fault.

It’s his fault Remus still looks around for his twin in the mornings.

It’s his fault that the brothers will grow up divided.

It’s his fault that Dad lives separately from them now.

But damn, he misses Patton so much.

———————————————

Logan: So we’re in agreement, this happens this Friday.

emo-nightmare: no need for all the grammar there L

Princey: Yes! This Friday™! It will be glorious and victorious!

living nightmare: we all will shout uproarious?

emo-nightmare: cause life is so euphorious

Logan: That’s not a word, Virgil.

emo-nightmare: if you wanna write to disney and tell em theyre using made up words i can think of better places for u to start

Princey: no virge don’t he’ll actually do it

Logan: Putting that aside, we agree that we’re doing this this Friday, yes?

Princey: Yep. Dad thinks we’re gonna go to the park to hang out after school and he’s meeting us there.

emo-nightmare: papa’s got a photoshoot with that new brand and rem and i suggested the park at 530

living nightmare: I got the fake blood and mannequin heads

Princey: REMSU WHAT THE FUKC

emo-nightmare: wow how is L letting yo make that many typos

Princey: fuck off V

living nightmare: how is Dad letting you get away with swearing that much

Princey: I am disowning you

living nightmare: on what grounds?

Princey: on the grounds that your a douchebag and you swear every two words

emo-nightmare: *you’re are u proud of me L

Logan: Had you not used the ‘u’, I would be

emo-nightmare: smh when will I be enough

Princey: you don’t need to be enough for us to love u now NO MORE SAD TALK IT IS OPERATION GET OUR DADS TO PULL THEIR HEADS OUTTA THEIR ASSES TIME

Logan: Everything is a go?

Princey: Sure is!

emo-nightmare: Roger

living nightmare: so I shouldn’t bring the mannequin heads?

Logan: No.

Princey: NO

emo-nightmare: guess not

living nightmare: :(

———————————————

In the end, it’s surprisingly easy for their kids to do things without them noticing.

Patton doesn’t Roman sneaking a camera into his backpack on the way to school, or the way he nods at Logan as they spilt up upon reaching the gates. He’s too preoccupied with scanning the parking lot, seeing if maybe, just maybe, there’s another familiar car here that he shouldn’t be caught looking at.

He doesn’t notice the way Logan texts him to remind him that they’ll be meeting at the park, across the street from the library, at 5:30 pm sharp, next to the fountain, and says that Patton will be there, not him. He’s too busy remember the last time he was at that fountain.

Janus doesn’t notice the way Remus pouts one more time at Virgil as they get ready to go, sighing and rolling his eyes about how boring the others are getting. He’s too focused on how he still expects to see a different person in the passenger seat as he drops them off a block away from the school.

He doesn’t notice the way Virgil doesn’t ask him to remember that they’re meeting after school in the park so he can help with taking the photos, but tells him, in no uncertain terms, that Janus better be in the park by the fountain at 5:30. He’s…busy remembering why he agreed to have the photoshoot by the fountain in the first place.

“Wait, why don’t you want to do the partner photoshoot?”

Janus sighs, leaning back against the fountain. “Because it has me fake being a couple.”

Patton’s mouth opens and closes and Janus sighs. Patton looks at the ground.

“I don’t believe that kind of bond can be just an arrangement,” he says after a moment, “as if it were a…contract or something. For something that they want but not—not like that.”

The fountain burbles quietly. Janus tips his head back to look at the stars.

“And what do you want?”

Patton turns, straightening as the frustration in his voice drifts away. “What do I want?”

Janus nods.

“What a good question,” he murmurs, looking at him, “what I want…is for you to come closer.”

Janus blinks in shock, his brow furrows just the slightest bit. Patton smiles and beckons.

“Yes,” he encourages when he takes a tentative step, “come closer.”

He stands to his full height as he stops in front of him, still searching his face for a clue as to what is going on. He doesn’t hold his gaze, instead looking at him with such awe that the sweet thing flushes. His hands come up slowly, hovering above his shoulders before carefully, carefully taking hold of his arms.

“This,” he breathes, “is what I want,” he says as his fingers toy with the roughness of his jacket, “this is what I want, what I have always wanted.”

Oh.

Oh.

Janus’s breath catches in his throat but Patton doesn’t stop.

“To have you here in my arms and to know—“ his gaze flashes up to catch Janus’s— “that you feel at home here.”

As his eyes go wide, Patton takes them a step away from the fountain. His gaze searches his face desperately.

“Tell me,” he asks, “do you still feel comfortable here? With me? Is it still home for you?”

It’s too much. The way his gaze threatens to tear his heart from his chest, his words pluck his walls apart, brick by brick, it’s too much. He can be the friend, he can’t—he can’t see Patton like this.

“Please…please…don't turn away from me—look at me.” A hand catches his chin, guiding him back. “Look in my eyes.”

I can’t, he wants to say, it’ll hurt when I have to look away.

“Are you scared?” His face falls. “By what? I won’t hurt you, I’d never hurt you, unless…”

He swallows, and something flickers behind his eyes.

“…you want to go?”

“It’s not that,” he manages, closing his eyes as he shakes his head, “I promise it’s not that.”

“If not, then what?”

“The others—I can’t—“

He doesn’t let him finish, swiftly cutting him off with a shake of his head. “No. No one can tell you that you can’t be here with me. I want you here, as long as you want to be here.”

I can stay? he asks with the furrow between his brows.

You can stay, he replies with the appearance of a smile.

“I know what I want, Janus.” Patton takes the smallest step closer. “Always have. And there was a time when…when you wanted that too.”

Janus chuckles. “You sound ridiculous.”

Patton laughs too. “Maybe. Maybe not. But I’m happy to be ridiculous if it lets me…”

He trails off and Janus frowns.

“…lets you what?”

“Be yours,” he murmurs as Janus’s heart pounds, “and to hear you be called mine.”

His face contorts as he traces the curve of his cheek again. He follows the trail of warmth, pushing into it with the hesitant desperation of a single trickle of water, halted by a dam in the river.

“You’re still here,” comes the quiet observation, “so clearly you're not afraid…are you?”

“…I don’t know anymore.”

“Then if you didn't trust me…” He swallows. “Then I’d ask you to—to go. Because I don’t want you to be here if you don’t want to be.”

The thought of leaving sends a spike through his ribs, punching a breath out of his lungs. He presses into his hand as much as he dares.

“…but if you do trust me,” he whispers, the fountain still humming behind them, “if you are truly not afraid of my touch as you've shown…close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close them,” he repeats, “…please.”

He does as bid, all but thrumming in his hands. The hand on his cheek trembles for barely a moment, as if its owner is suddenly overcome by the realization that they’re here, before he feels a warmth next to his face and a puff of breath that isn’t his own.

“W-wait!”

The air freezes.

His eyes fly open as he struggles to process what just happened.

Patton. Patton. His Patton. He—he loves him. He invited him here tonight because he loves him. He wants to spend time with him because he loves him.

Gods above, he loves him.

He—gods, he just tried to kiss him because he loves him.

He just tried to kiss him.

And he—

—oh, gods, he told him to wait.

“Patton—“ he tries to find him but it’s too late.

The second he meets his eyes, he’s met with a tidal wave of anguish, slammed quickly behind iron doors that fail to banish the hurt from his expression. It breaks his heart.

“I understand,” he says lowly, going to move away, “I understand—“

“No—please, listen to me, I—“

“You don’t have to say anything,” he says smoothly, his hand already leaving his face, “I understand. That was an abuse of power, it was not my intention to—“

“I didn’t mean it like that, I don’t want you to think that I—“

“The last thing I want is to pressure you into something you don’t want.”

“You don’t know I don’t want it!”

“I do!” His gaze flares sharply with anger, with hurt, seas of pain buried behind smiles and guarded expressions. He takes a deep breath and tries to force it away. “You told me to wait. And, forgive me, but I won’t wait to have my heart be broken all over again.”

“I’m not trying to break your heart—“ he scrabbles frantically for him— “please, just listen—“

“You don’t need to explain yourself, you never have, I understand that you don’t want me like that.” He lets him grab onto him but does not stop turning away. “But if you could give me a moment to collect myself, I—“

“I don’t know how to kiss!”

He freezes. “…what?”

His cheeks burn with the weight of his embarrassment and his unshed tears. “I don’t know how to kiss,” he repeats at a much more reasonable volume. He twists his hands in front of him. “I…you…I’m sorry, fuck, I’m making a mess of this.”

He buries his head in his hands, willing the tears to stay behind his eyes. As he looks up, he knows he’s going to fail as he spots the red-rimmed eyes staring back at him.

“Don’t ever,” he starts, voice wobbling a little, “don’t you ever believe that I don’t love you.”

His breath leaves him in a rush.

“Of course I love you,” he continues, growing stronger when he lets out a whimper and reaches for him, “of course I love you.”

“Then why—“ he grasps his shoulders, tighter than before, “why did you ask me to wait?”

The fountain bubbles and burbles, the soft smell of their drinks mixing with the sweet smell of the water. It’s warm here, in each other’s arms. It feels like home.

“I’ve never kissed anyone,” he confesses softly, “not like…not like that. It scares me.”

Patton shifts, not enough to hurt, just enough to hold Janus closer.

“I don’t know how to speak it.” His eyes fall closed, breathing in the warm smell of safe. “I don’t know what to do with it. And I—“

Patton gives his sides a gentle squeeze.

“…I am terrified of what normally comes after.”

“You don’t have to be,” comes the immediate reassurance, “not here, not with me. I won’t force you to do anything you’re not ready for. I will never ask anything of you that you wouldn’t give. Not until you want to.”

“…and what if I never want to?”

Janus feels his soft smile as he rests his chin on top of his head. “Then we won’t.”

“No?”

“No.” His forehead comes to rest against Janus’s once more. “But kissing doesn’t have to lead to that. It can just be a kiss.”

“It can?”

“Of course.” There’s a pause. “As that is the case…”

His eyes open. Is he…

“…are you asking?”

Patton pulls back just far enough to look him in the eyes.

“May I teach you how to kiss, my love?”

Janus’s breath leaves him in a rush. “Yes.”

They would say that it took a lot of work. And it did; getting back to a place where they could trust each other again, to live together again, was a slow progression. Over a year, at least, but there they were, working together against the problem, not each other.

But really, really it…

Well, Janus turned around, expecting to see Virgil, and saw Patton instead, blinking in confusion.

Patton mumbled something about Roman and Logan saying he should be here, a small smile growing when Janus says that Virgil and Remus did the same.

“…our kids, huh?”

“Our kids.”

Patton cautiously broached the topic of whether he remembered the fountain. Janus had smiled and said that how could he forget?

“…anything else you remember?”

And, well, maybe there was something to be said about the movies that Roman loved so much and everyone else pretended they didn’t.

Because as Janus wraps his hand around Patton’s hoodie and pulls him in, they could swear they could hear cheering and whooping all around them.

In fairness to the kids, they had an excellent reason for why they shouldn’t be grounded for lying about their after-school plans.

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[yeojaa]

NOT YOUR FAIRYTALE - ft. myg

What do you do when you've called your wedding off but forgot to cancel your cake tastings?  Why, you ask your brother's grouchy best friend, of course. 

pairing.  min yoongi.  sort of.

genre + rating.  fluff-adjacent.  general.

warning / tags.  mentions of infidelity, cake tasting, cake tasting isn’t a euphemism, fluff and hurt/comfort, alternate universe, alternate universe - modern setting, friendship, friendship/love, childhood friends.

reading.   n/a.  a stand-alone three part one-shot.

word count.  ~1850

chapter iii.

“I didn’t mean it, Yoongi.”

The apology is off your tongue and crashing into his ears before you have a second to consider it, pleading colouring syllables in soft shades of blue.  You hate the way he’s looking at you, like you’ve found the chink in his armour and are on the verge of exploiting it.  

“It’s fine.”  Over a decade of friendship tells you it’s decidedly not fine.  His concession comes far too quickly, meant to placate whatever guilt he’d accidentally kicked up. 

It makes you feel worse, the weight increasing tenfold when he offers you his seldom-seen smile.  Gums flash, corner of his mouth hitching over soft pink tissue.  It doesn’t quite meet his eyes though, falling just short of the endlessly dark depths of his irises. 

“Seriously.  Forget about it.”  You know he’s doing his best to force you onward but you can’t help but dig your figurative heels further into the dirt.  An immovable force.

“I’m really sorry,”  you repeat, voice thick with meaning. 

Yoongi huffs a little, seemingly frustrated.  You shrink a little further in on yourself, shoulders dropping and lips shifting in tandem.  You’re probably pouting.  You feel his stare from your periphery, feline gaze focused wholly on the way your mouth turns and turns around words you’re trying to perfect.

Silence stretches on, longer than you can stand and far more awkward than you’re used to.  You can feel it like a suffocating weight, a goose down comforter in the heat of summer - heavy and unpleasant.

“I’m sorry.”  It squeaks out in the same instant he sighs.  He sounds less irritated, though you can see the tension in his chin, how it jumps the muscle in his jaw. 

“You don’t have to keep saying it.”  

“But I don’t think you’re heartless, Yoongi.  I shouldn’t have said it.”  You say it like it’s crucial - as if you might perish if you don’t get them out.  They sweep into the spaces between you, earnest and full of fear, filling all the cracks left by your own hand.

You layer your reassurances as best you can, tongue tripping over teeth as you ramble about all the different ways you see him.  

In shades of diffused morning light, lined with silver like a physical reminder that there’s always hope.  Through the lens of childhood admiration, sprinkled with childish laughter and doe-eyed awe.  With as much unconditional love as you’ve ever been capable of, wrapped up in furtive glances and curious, miserably nonchalant texts to your brother.

It comes and comes, word vomit that won’t stop until you’re brought back by the expression on his face.  It’s tender, bemused - reminiscent of a parent of an overzealous child.  You’ve seen it a million times before, though the instances were much fewer and far between now that you were older. 

You immediately backtrack.  “I’m sorry.”  This time it’s for wasting his time, for being his best friend’s annoying little sister. 

You’re tumbling over your own two feet again.  You’ve said too much by the time he speaks at all.  

“You’re more than that.”  A statement of fact, seemingly, by how he delivers it with such ease, as if it hasn’t just set your heart off in your chest, the poor thing stuttering to life (or death).  You’re not sure.

Despite your best efforts, the singular word gives you away, coloured canary red with hope.  “What?”

If he’d heard your question at all, he says nothing, footsteps never faltering.  He’s walking ahead like he hasn’t just turned your world on its axis, throwing you completely off-balance.  He doesn’t even offer a glance back, halfway down the block by the time you come to your senses.

You jog to catch up, fingers eager to close the distance you quickly eat up.  You settle into a measured pace behind him, though your mouth moves at a mile a minute.  You can feel the maddening persistence in your bones, hear it as it carves demands into what was once comfortable silence. 

“Why did you say that?”  No response.  “Yoongi!”  He doesn’t even flinch, gaze trained ahead as if he’s never been in Apgujeong before and he’s terribly interested in everything but you. 

The distinct urge to stomp your foot fizzles through your limbs and you almost do.  You’re rooting yourself to the spot, sneaker raised comically, when he rounds on you.  Brows have disappeared into his swath of dark hair and his chin tilts just so, studying you quizzically.  It looks like he’’s having an internal debate as to whether he should rib you further.

He decides against it - returning to the conversation you’re so adamant to have.  “You know, for being a Kim, you’re not that bright.”

“Excuse me?”  Indignation bursts out your mouth.  You’re focusing too hard on the words he’s spoken than the implication behind them.  They sail over your head, lost to the pretty coral that streaks across the sky and eats up the horizon. 

To Yoongi, it’s like watching his literal heart fly out the window.  He’s a little exasperated when he speaks again.  “You’re my best friend’s little sister.  I don’t know what you expect me to say.”  

“What’re you saying?”  Because you’re really confused now.  You think Namjoon would be too. 

Are you even having the same conversation?

“Do I need to spell it out for you?”  The line of his mouth quirks, corner stretching into something that borders on a smirk.  It’s devilish - decidedly not something you’re used to - and you imagine your stomach kickflips before wrecking itself on the pavement.

Your silence seems to be answer enough.  

He heaves a sigh as if he’s been terribly inconvenienced, arms folding over his chest.  The gesture should read as don’t come near me! but you have the very distinct urge to fold yourself under his arms.  You resist it by biting down hard on your bottom lip.  

“I’ve had feelings for you since we were kids.  Specifically since you had your 10th grade ballet recital and you kept the bear I got you.”  

You remember the day like it was yesterday.  You’d been lucky enough to land the coveted spot in the winter showcase and he’d been there, shoulder to shoulder with your brother, when you’d taken your bow.  The bouquet of peonies he’d brought you - in soft shades of blush and violet, your favourite colours - had nearly engulfed your frame and you’d had trouble holding both it and the sweet brown bear that came with it.

The same bear that still sat on your bedside table, propped up beside your charging cable and yearly planner.  The one you’d cried yourself hoarse over after you thought you lost it during your freshman year of college.

“I don’t understand.”  You frown, deeply.  You can feel the little dent between your brows.  It comes out when you’re stressed or confused or, in this instance, both.  

He’s more teasing than unkind:  “Like I said - not that bright.”  

You ignore the dig.  “Why didn’t you tell me?”  

“I couldn’t do that to Joon.  I promised I wouldn’t.”

Somehow, that’s more of a revelation than Yoongi’s confession.  

“He knows?”  You can’t help the gasp that ricochets out of your mouth, belligerent and betrayed.  You’re already running through the 100 different ways you’re going to kill your brother.  Because he’d known!  While you’d pined, Namjoon had known and simply stood by.  “He knows how I feel about you and he didn't say anything?”

You know if you think about it, you can’t blame him.  You’d given him a hard time too when he and Sora seemed to get along a little too well.  Call it a sibling thing.

In the heat of the moment though, you’re livid.  So Yoongi does what he does best and redirects effortlessly.   

“—feel?”  

The prompt reassigns all focus back to him, your anger toward your brother all but forgotten.  You think you could give Pikachu a run for his money by the surprise that works itself into your expression.  Heat licks itself across your cheeks, rolling like a steam engine over the exposed skin of your neck and up past your ears.  Had it suddenly jumped 20 degrees?

“I mean felt.”

When Yoongi steps forward, you’re hyper fixated on the way his mouth bends and bows, gums and neat white enamel revealed by the motion.  You’re rooted to the spot as he’s suddenly all you can see, crown of dark hair blocking the light from behind him, narrow shoulders curling in on you.  He’s near enough you can smell his comforting, woody scent.  

You haven’t been this close in - well, ever, you think.  

Then he kisses you - a chaste thing, right on the cheek - and you forget how to breathe.

“I guess we’ll need to change that.”

SIX MONTHS LATER

“I’m honestly surprised,”  your boyfriend drawls, the picture of disinterest as he leans himself against the packed counter top, elbows propping himself up.  He’s staring out at the sea of people swarming the apartment, a comfortable group of new and old coming together to celebrate something very important.

He watches as your brother narrowly misses knocking over the beer pong table, earning a groan from the participants.  Jungkook yells something about his shot being messed up;  Jimin denies a re-throw.  There’s more incoherent shouting. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  

You’re at his back, arms twined neatly around his slender waist as you press your face into the warm expanse of his back.  The sweater he wears is overly soft from years of wear and it feels good under your reddened cheek.

You’d had a bit to drink and you were feeling exceptionally affectionate.

“You actually kept it a secret.”  Not that he hadn’t figured it out himself.  It was in your nature to throw surprise parties - you did for Namjoon and Jin and that loud best friend of yours - so he’d only figured he would get one when the time came. 

“We’re very good at keeping secrets in this family, remember?”  Your voice carries past the cotton of his clothes, filtering through laughter to kick his beating heart into overdrive.  

“Oh, how could I forget.”  He snorts quietly, turning in the same instance you unlatch yourself from him.  He has to fight the look of disappointment that threatens to pull his mouth into a pout, brow knitting in disapproval as you round on the refrigerator.

It’s only when you spin back to face him that his expression cracks and re-sets itself with glee.  Now he’s actually surprised.

Because you’ve got a cake box from the same bakeshop you’d gone cake tasting at.  He recognizes the logo on the front and the pretty frosting behind the plastic cover.  It’s shades of cream and citrus and decorated with cherries.  Your - and his - favourite cake from that day.

“You’re not supposed to see the cake ahead of time!”  It’s Namjoon bursting into the kitchen looking alarmed.

You laugh first, bright and sunny.  “It’s a birthday cake, not a wedding dress.”

But as you kiss him, cake cradled gingerly between your bodies, Yoongi thinks he wouldn’t mind seeing you in that, either.

notes.  this final chapter was short and sweet but i hope you enjoyed it.  thank you for reading!  x

tag list.  @hoodmeup​​ @loveyoongles​ @vi-hoshi​ 

[franniebanana]

CQL Rewatch - Ep 16

This is actually really sad, because how badly do we want to see this kid actually shoot Wen Zhuliu? I mean, they even go into hearing Jiang Fengmian’s words echoing in his mind. It’s the perfect setup for some heroic act that just doesn’t happen. It’s weird how even though I know what happens, I’m like, maybe this time it won’t! I mean, it’s good all this happens, because I like what it does to the characters, but it’s still hard to watch. I think this part is probably the bloodiest part in the entire show. Don’t quote me, but it’s pretty bloody.

At the risk of sounding like a broken record, it’s also really sad that Jiang Fengmian has this heroic entrance only to be cut down seconds later. It’s easy to fall into a pattern of the good guys win, but that’s not how this story really works. The line between good and bad is thin and warped and blended together, and who we think is good doesn’t always come out on top. But again, if Lotus Pier hadn’t fallen, how would Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian have turned out? What would have happened to Jiang Yanli? I like how these events set into motion so much growth for these characters, and it’s not always positive growth either.

Ugh, I hate it. I hate it! Seeing all these men, women, children, who have been ruthlessly murdered by the Wen Clan—it’s just horrible. And from Wei Wuxian’s perspective, these people were his only family. This was the place that had taken him in when he was very young—it’s the only home he really remembers. And in a matter of hours, it was taken completely away from him. Obviously he’s angry—very angry—and upset. And whatever he feels, it’s only amplified in Jiang Cheng, who is already more emotional and quick-tempered. Not to mention, those are his actual parents, who he loves very much. Of course, his first reaction is to want revenge, which Wei Wuxian temporarily manages to talk him out of.

I like that we get Madam Yu’s perspective throughout this part. I like that she was the one who staunchly defended her home, and I like how she was the last man standing. As horrible as all this is, I get a warm feeling from seeing how she really does care about her family and her husband. I think it’s important that we get to see this before she dies, so that we can see that yes, there was some good in her. She loved her home, her clan, and her family enough that she would die for them. And I really like that she dies by her own hand on her own terms. She got to take that away from the Wens.

And we’re back to this again. It isn’t enough to have the Wen Clan to blame for what happened to his parents and Lotus Pier—no. Jiang Cheng seems to believe deep down that if Wei Wuxian hadn’t helped Lan Wangji and Jin Zixuan, things would be different: his parents would still be alive and Lotus Pier would be fine. Of course, that’s not true. The Wens would not have ever stopped. They wanted to lord over all the clans, even the Yunmeng Jiangs. But Jiang Cheng needs to blame someone and who better than Wei Wuxian? And after this point, he holds this grudge forever. Everything else just compounds upon this event.

And Wei Wuxian again just takes it. He doesn’t argue that the Wens would have done it anyway, he doesn’t try to defend himself at all. He must know that when Jiang Cheng makes up his mind, that’s it—there’s no changing things. I’m guessing by the time the morning rolls around, Jiang Cheng has already decided to seek revenge immediately, against Wei Wuxian’s advice. Again, we have a contrast of someone who is very analytical (Wei Wuxian) and someone who’s very emotional (Jiang Cheng), and Jiang Cheng ends up paying for it. And that’s his decision, even though he tries to place that blame on Wei Wuxian.

While Jiang Cheng is feeling sorry for himself, Wei Wuxian is the first to mention Jiang Yanli, who is still waiting for them. Of course Jiang Cheng has just gone through someone extremely traumatic—I don’t expect him to be on top of things, but I appreciate how level-headed that Wei Wuxian is able to be, given that the experience was also traumatic for him. Again, more contrast between the two characters. And not only contrast between those two, but look back at what happened at the Cloud Recesses and how Lan Wangji dealt with his own loss. He did not give up and shut down, like we see Jiang Cheng doing. He understood that life must go on. Was he upset that his brother was missing? Of course he was! Was he horrified by what happened to his home? Fuck, yes! But he didn’t get the opportunity to wallow in self-pity and depression like Jiang Cheng is. He had no one to support him like Jiang Cheng does. Jiang Cheng has a ton of people around him right now, in comparison, yet he behaves as if he’s alone. He lashes out emotionally, he recklessly goes back to Lotus Pier, abandoning his sister, who’s sick and alone. I don’t really care what he ultimately does to save Wei Wuxian, because I think it was clear that he was ready to die anyway. The outcome would have been the same for him, so distracting the Wen guards wasn’t really the selfless act that CQL kind of makes it out to be, albeit under the veil of Jiang Cheng’s memory.

Ugh, breaks my heart. Also irritates me that Wei Wuxian has to be the one to tell Yanli what happened. Like, can’t Jiang Cheng do it? Grow a pair and tell your own damn sister what happened to your parents and your home? Sorry, but I’m endlessly frustrated by him, no matter how realistic that response is. If I were Yanli, I’d want to hear that from my brother. But Jiang Cheng has basically checked out at this point. And I can’t imagine what’s going through Jiang Yanli’s mind. Her parents are dead, her home has been destroyed, her brother is distraught, and then she falls ill. She’s the oldest, she’s the one who should know what to do (whether or not she has any authority to do it)—this must be so difficult to feel like she needs to be strong for her two younger brothers, but to be completely falling apart emotionally.

Look at the physical distance here. It’s quite interesting, really, and good cinematography to show that chasm between them. It’s not just a physical gap but an emotional one as well. You have Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli, who just want to get out of danger so that they can figure out what to do next. And then you have Jiang Cheng, who just wants revenge. Even if it wasn’t obvious already, this scene shows how far apart they are from each other. It’s actually really cool.

I just feel that the only thing that was holding them all together was Wei Wuxian. He is taking his promise to Madam Yu and Jiang Fengmian very seriously. This is not a game to him—he will do anything to keep them safe. That is his only purpose right now. Prior to episode 15, I think Wei Wuxian brought up Lan Wangji at least once per episode, whether Lan Wangji was there or not. That name has not passed his lips even once. Jiang Cheng has said it a few times, I think because blame game, of course, but Wei Wuxian is not even thinking about Lan Wangji. His focus right now is to get Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli to safety. Imagine if it were only Jiang Cheng and Yanli right now—if you take Wei Wuxian out of the picture, how do you think they would behave? I mean, realistically, Jiang Cheng would already be dead, because no one would have stopped him from going back to Lotus Pier that night. So thank god Wei Wuxian is here, right?

Look at his vacant expression. Has he even heard Wei Wuxian’s instructions? Probably he has but he just ignores them. His sister has a fever, and he leaves her alone in the inn. He abandons them both. And for what? What does he hope to accomplish alone? His parents and the entirety of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect couldn’t take down the Wens, so how does he expect to? I understand where he’s coming from—I am protective of my family as well—but what he needed to do was step back and wait, and by not doing that, he ruined his own life.

Besides wangxian, I think my favorite relationship in this series is the one between Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian. There’s something so sweet and so beautiful and so loving about two people who aren’t quite family but aren’t not family either. There is so much unconditional love between them that no matter what either of them does, the other will continue to be there. It’s like the relationship that Wei Wuxian could have with Jiang Cheng, but Jiang Cheng does not love Wei Wuxian as much as Wei Wuxian loves him. For a long time, I think Wei Wuxian’s love for Jiang Cheng was unconditional, but he learns over time that it can’t be that way with Jiang Cheng. But his relationship with Yanli is so different. She treats him like family, treats him like a little brother, and she protects and defends him in front of those who would wish to harm him. It’s just very sweet and tragic, of course.

So, this is an important moment. For obvious reasons, of course, but also because Wei Wuxian could have killed Wen Ning, but didn’t. He immediately accuses him of participating in the massacre and goes on to say, “I shouldn’t have saved you.” And Wen Ning responds that he just got to Lotus Pier and was not a part of the massacre at all. And here’s the big part: Wei Wuxian backs off. He believes him and he lets him go. This is important because it shows that Wei Wuxian can see past the clan, past the outfit, past the bloodline. Someone who can’t do that is Jiang Cheng. This is just one of those moments that shows you what kind of person Wei Wuxian really is, and if you remember he made a big point of praising Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen for teaming up together and for not being affiliated with any clans. So here we can see how Wei Wuxian has a penchant for not conforming to the orthodoxy of any of the clans—of the very fact that you need to be in a clan at all. People are more than the clans they are a part of, people are more than their blood relatives. Everyone gets to prove their own worth, regardless of their social status. This isn’t a big deal to someone with modern sensibilities, but within this world, it’s a big deal that Wei Wuxian trusts Wen Ning to help him and Jiang Cheng here. And in the book, he allowed Wen Qing to help them, and he doesn’t even know her. Book!Wen Qing is more awesome in my opinion, and her entrance in the story is great, because you don’t know if you can trust her. You have to trust Wen Ning too, just like Wei Wuxian—you’re taking the risk as well, as the reader.

One more thought: you can see why they’d form such a strong bong—two people who should by all rights be enemies, but instead they choose to work together to stand up to what’s wrong. This is what Jin Zixuan and Lan Wangji were doing in the cave, what Wen Ning has already done when he helped Wei Wuxian out against the dog. This is a bond of brotherhood more than anything that the Twin Prides of Yunmeng ever had. It’s a really nice message, honestly. I often don’t appreciate Wen Ning, but they do have such a nice relationship that’s based on nothing but mutual trust and respect.

I find this oddly funny, because Wen Zhuliu is so resistant and doesn’t want to drink, but Wen Chao is so insistent that he ends up doing it. And of course that’s the thing that puts all of them out of commission for the next few days (I think), allowing Wen Ning and Wei Wuxian to get Jiang Cheng and his parents’ remains out of Lotus Pier. Such a simple decision, but if it had not been made this way, Wei Wuxian would have certainly been captured/killed by Wen Zhuliu.

The juxtaposition here is pretty extreme: the clean-clothed dancing ladies in the background, with the body of (I think) Madam Yu in the foreground, hanging there. It’s so disturbing to think about having this feast to celebrate a victory (massacre) with dead bodies hanging around you. Just very creepy and eerie.

I’m flying through these for good reason. Not a lot to say, just getting through plot, and I want to get back to my fave Lan Wangji. Biased? Why, yes, I am.

Other episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 |

[thejustmaiden]

Jaken = Rin's Dad?

Okay, is this how a daughter treats their so-called father?

Most definitely not.

Rin and Jaken's relationship clearly screams of your typical sibling rivalry punctuated with cute and silly moments of playful bickering.

Yes, Jaken may technically be her main provider, but that doesn't necessarily equate to him being more of a father than Sesshomaru. If anything, he demonstrates more of a brotherly love towards her. As we all know, parents (which Sesshomaru embodies more based on real life patterns and parallels) will leave their older more capable children in charge of looking after their younger brothers and sisters. In this case, that would mean making Jaken responsible for watching over Rin and protecting her if need be. Ah-Un offers protection, too. Think of it as Jaken as the big brother and Ah-Un as the family dog who are babysitting while Sesshomaru as the parent of the household is away at work or taking care of business. I mean, they literally fit that description to a tee and I'm dying at the accuracy of it all! 🤣👌

[Quick! Someone write up a modern au where Sesshomaru finally gets out to have a nice date night but everything goes wrong in the most spectacular way. Like maybe Rin and Jaken catch a ride on Ah-Un to go spy!]

I recently revisited some episodes from The Final Act, and I couldn't believe how many moments like this there were where Rin got after Jaken or when she would "put him in his place" so to speak. Obviously, all of it is mostly harmless. I was only surprised by how often it occurred, not to mention how Jaken would just stand there and take it. Towards a supposed father figure, Rin's behavior is downright unacceptable. There's a certain level of respect a child is expected to show their parents/guardians, and that's just not what I'm witnessing here between them. Like at all.

Rather their dynamic has the nature of some sibling relationships like I mentioned above. So I really wish fans would stop pretending otherwise, because based on what we know of father-daughter relationships- healthy ones at least- they don't appear anything like what Jaken and Rin have. If you could please provide me other examples of where we've seen similar portrayals in fiction or in real life, then perhaps I can get on board.

Look, that doesn't have to mean that because Jaken isn't her father then Sesshomaru must be. They can both be her caretakers without necessarily filling that traditional father role. I'm just saying that if we're going to start assigning titles to characters, let's make sure we are accurate and truthful in our assessments. If you're going to label anyone Rin's dad, then it needs to be Sesshomaru. Jaken doesn't have precedence over him in terms of fatherly attributes, that just wouldn't make sense.

After all, this isn't about what you want to see, this is about what Rin very likely sees. It's safe to assume that she views Sesshomaru more like a father than she does Jaken. She knows she's safe with him (broadly speaking lol) and that he'll come for her no matter what. That sense of security and comfort is what a child seeks and what they should always feel in a parent's presence. She trusts and even idolizes him, just as a young and innocent child tends to do with their parents. At that age, parents are perfect and could do no wrong in their child's eyes. Idk about you, but this describes perfectly how Rin is around Sesshomaru.

Rin adores him and will follow him anywhere- yes, even into danger! That's what the innocence and unconditional love of a child will bring them to do if necessary. Fortunately, at the end of The Final Act we learn Sesshomaru takes Kaede's advice when he realizes that leaving Rin with her in the village is in her best interests. That way she'd be able to lead a more normal and safer life alongside other humans. Remember, Sessrin shippers, that doesn't mean he wasn't still a part of her life and didn't witness her become a young woman over the years right before his very eyes. Therefore, if they eventually do become romantically involved, then most if not all of those gifts had intimate and seductive intentions and it essentially constitutes as child grooming.

I understand from a Sessrin shipper's point of view why it'd be so much easier to claim Jaken as the father. In doing so, they diminish Sesshomaru's role in her upbringing. By refusing to acknowledge the real role he had in helping raise Rin (short periods can be crucial and impressionable too esp. in a child's early years so yes they did assist in raising her not only Kaede), these shippers are better able to justify how their filial-like relationship evolved into a romantic one. So yeah, I get it, if I were a Sessrin shipper I'd probably do the same. It's one of the more plausible arguments available to them, after all. "Let's pin Jaken as the father to fend off antis!" is the best chance they've got, but even so, it's still not good enough. But if you insist Jaken is indeed like a father to Rin, then Sesshomaru is most certainly one too. Who says she can't have two fathers anyway?

The thing is however much you want to deny or downplay what Sesshomaru truly means to Rin and vice versa, nothing will ever change or hide the truth of the matter. Please, stop acting like they're only traveling companions and nothing more. Some of y'all even go so far as to say that they're like strangers. Knowing potentially little about a person is not equal to a lack of love and affection. Making big assumptions such as this to defend your ship is actually doing you more harm than good. Let me elaborate.

According to your reasoning, if that's all Rin ever was to him was a companion and Sesshomaru had no real attachment to her, then what precisely is the basis of your ship? Recall that Adult!Rin doesn't exist yet, thus we have no real idea what she will be like or if she's even alive. So how can you make comments like that but then go on later to say "they have such a unique and unbreakable bond" or "only Rin can be the mother because she's the only human he ever cared for" if all that time spent traveling together didn't amount to much in the first place like you claimed to believe beforehand? Do you see how your rationalizing is confusing?

Contrary to what some of you may think, I'm not just saying all this because I'm an anti and I'm obligated to disagree with you, or whatever other excuse you want to tell yourself. Believe it or not, I'm attempting to give as unbiased and objective of an analysis I can based on widely accepted interpretations of family dynamics, development, and any history we know of.

Of course I respect that at times fans will perceive things differently since that's bound to happen. What's hard for me to wrap my head around however is the unwillingness of some fans- not exclusively Sessrin shippers- to apply basic common sense and sound judgment to their observations and deductions.

Looking at all our facts, then taking the small handful of scenes Sesshomaru and Rin do share together into account, one can logically conclude that their dynamic is akin to one found in a typical parent-child relationship. If you still fail to recognize Sesshomaru as a parent to Rin, then that's fine too. In the end, that won't really change the fact that he'd still take on a role resembling an adult figure overseeing a young child's care and protection. Be it as a vassal, guardian, what have you. Plus, nobody is saying here that Sesshomaru doesn't make mistakes regarding Rin's general well-being, but so do all parents. Overall, I think the majority of us agree that Rin is in good hands. Whether it's in his direct company or in his occasional supervision from his frequent visits to the village.

In other words, it doesn't really matter what exact title you assign him in relation to Rin, as the distribution of power is all inherently the same with any and all adult-child relationships. That bond never changes once you've established it either, seeing as it's a special kind of connection one can only form with a child and a child alone.

I was a teacher for a few years, and speaking from personal experience, you don't need to be a parent, per se, to take on a role of authority in a child's life. I know without a doubt that I could never and will never view any of those kids I taught in a sexual/romantic light later down the road; yes, not even once they become grown-ups who are independent and more than capable of making their own decisions. Those of you who disagree are usually missing the whole point though, because we're not trying to dictate what Adult!Rin can and cannot do like many tend to accuse of us doing. This isn't a question of taking away from her autonomy nor does it fall under "purity culture," which is why people shouldn't continue jumping to these outrageous conclusions and really listen for a change. You're deflecting from the real issue here when you choose to misinterpret what we're saying by ignoring the problem we're actually referring to. You cannot present a valid counter-argument if you persist in twisting our words.

Bottom line: once these kids become old enough to pursue a sexual/romantic relationship, of course they have that right if they're ready. All we're trying to say is you guys ought to stop pushing forward this it's-completely-normal-to-want-to-bang-your-adoptive-dad-since-you're-an-adult-and-can-do-as-you-please agenda and not expect backlash. Ship it if you want, but please stop acting like their romance would be the epitome of a pure and healthy relationship.

Sesshomaru may not wear his heart on his sleeve, but it's foolish to presume he didn't actually care about Rin during their whole time together just because he didn't openly express his feelings until the very end. Surely everybody can comprehend that people handle and process their emotions differently. The way Sesshomaru chooses to is completely valid for the most part, so let's cut him some slack regarding this already.

What I'm trying to get at is that any child whose life you played an influential role in will always be a kid in a lot ways to you even when they're old and wrinkly. Just as they will always picture you as the loved one who guided and protected them when they were most vulnerable and couldn't always fend for themselves. Can't we relate this to children we know personally and apply it accordingly?

Finally, I want to end on this note. Could you kindly take a look at these two images below for a second?

The reason I ask is because of something I recently read that's relevant to the topic. There was this pro-sessrin tweet I saw that stated Rin trying to take care of Sesshomaru when they first met is what a mom would do for a child, which in their opinion, translates to Rin being more like a mother than a daughter if anything.

First off: are you freaking kidding me????

Seriously, so now children aren't allowed to tend to their sick or injured parents?! Parents are apparently superhuman and shouldn't be offered a helping hand from a child, even if they mean well and want to help their parent who's in pain?? Now this Twitter user was mostly being a smartass, but at the same time, it was evident they genuinely thought they offered a valid enough point that warranted no further explanation or clarification.

Secondly, by saying this Sessrin fans don't seem to realize that in actuality they're contradicting themselves and proving the point we've been trying to make all along. Glancing at the first picture and moving down to the second, the role of the one being cared for and the caretaker is reversed. So then by their own logic, Sesshomaru IS in fact like a father to Rin.

What it comes down to is the names you give to the roles these characters play aren't as crucial as the dynamic they share. The specific characteristics of that dynamic are what define the importance of said role, not so much the name in the role itself. So real father or not, Sesshomaru and Rin clearly mean a lot to each other. Close relationships are defined and solidified by the devotion and belonging they have to one another, not solely by the duration of time spent together and their proximity.

Well, that's a wrap! I hope you guys got something outta this blog, and that you enjoyed or found some portions of it interesting. I would love to hear your thoughts on the subject from this fandom, but only engage in conversation if you plan to be respectful. Thank you!

[k-s-morgan]

Hi! I’m new to the Hannibal fandom and I was wondering if I’m the only one who didn’t understand Alana and Will’s relationship-thing? Like I kind of could see how Alana’s feelings developed but I don’t get Will’s. Sorry if you answered this before I’m just really curious.

Hello! Welcome to the fandom)) This is how I understand the relationship between Will and Alana.

I can see genuine physical attraction, some friendly care, and a crush that's mostly motivated by the fact that Alana is a very acceptable partner - Will craves normality, he wants to be an average family man with a wife and kids as expected by the society. Anything to drown out who he really is.

By the start of S1, he and Alana have never had one-on-one interactions, someone was always in the room with them. Will refers to her pretty impersonally as "Bloom" to Jack in E1. He starts flirting with her when they see each other, but he almost never seeks her out first. He remembers about her only when paths actually cross. There are about 2 exceptions, from what I recall.

1) He calls her first in E8, when he's feeling unstable and worried about it, and asks her to come help him find a possibly wounded animal. At the same time, he doesn't see it as romantic. Everything below is from the script, including text in the brackets.  

Alana: You invited me over to help you collect animal parts?

Will: I invited you over on the off chance we find it alive. Hard to wrangle a wounded animal by myself. (then, realizing) Did you think it was a date?

Alana: Honestly, it never crossed my mind.

Will is at first relieved, then almost disappointed.

This is a good demonstration of his feelings. He isn't actually interested in a romantic relationship with her, but he wants to be interested in it.

2) The second time Will seeks her out first is to ask about her safety when Gideon escapes. In the majority of other instances, Alana is the one to come after him.

In E8 again, Alana comes to visit Will at the moment when he's particularly freaked out by his instability. He kisses her with genuine passion - and with desperation, too. That's what he and Hannibal discuss.

In their conversation, Will says he always wanted to kiss Alana because she's "kissable". He doesn't describe her qualities that make him like her, he doesn't say anything about deeper emotions - he merely refers to her in terms of his physical attraction to her. Hannibal rightfully notes:

Hannibal: You waited a long time, which suggests you were kissing her for a reason in addition to wanting to.

Will admits it's true. It's another point proving that his interest is superficial. He never bothered to actually pursue Alana until he got scared because of losing control. They confirm it again in the following lines. Will tells Hannibal how he freaked out because he thought there was an animal in his chimney and adds:

Will: I sleep walk. I get headaches. I’m hearing things. I feel unstable.

Hannibal: That’s why you kissed her. A clutch for balance.

Will nods here. Also, they deleted this bit, but he actually also had to say:

Will: Because I’m losing mine.

So it's a confirmation that Will focused on Alana because he was scared of being even more abnormal than he usually is. He does care about her and he likes her, but their relationship has always been shallow. They don't know each other much. Also, I don't think Will could ever love her for real because of who he is. The thing Will craves most is acceptance and understanding. Alana can't give him that. They have an interesting conversation related to it a bit in E11.

Alana: Would have been fun cozying up with your dogs in front of the space heater.

Will: Don’t need protective custody to cozy up with my dogs. Or me for that matter. Just a little more stability on my part.

So Will acknowledges that for Alana to like him, he has to change. But his instability is largely who he is (not counting encephalitis) - even when he was physically healthy, he was still unstable because of his darkness. That's why Alana didn't feel comfortable staying alone with him until S1. She can't give him unconditional love, and that's what Will needs. Another telling conversation is with Hannibal.

Hannibal: She would feel an obligation to her field of study to observe you. And you would resent her for it.

Will: I know.

It all comes down to them being fundamentally incompatible.

In S2, Will is not profoundly hurt when he realizes Alana has no feelings for him (during the talk with the lawyer she hired), though he’s upset and grim at the realization. He's angry and disgusted upon realizing she's with Hannibal now, but he shows no actual hurt or heartbreak - he's concerned about his relationship with Hannibal already. He shows the same behavior back in S1 - his dreams are filled wth darkness and Hannibal/Wendigo; he shares his most intimate thoughts with Hannibal; he covers up murder for Hannibal and Abigail, while Alana comes to his thoughts only when she's physically there, when he's losing control, or when she's in danger.

So, in my opinion, their bond has always been shallow, and it never went further than superficial friendship and physical attraction. And it fits with Will’s character.

Alana, I think, is attracted to Will and feels sorry for him. I don’t see any genuine romantic feelings from her side either - the worse Will feels, the more she cares about him; when he feels fine and confident, she loses interest and becomes intimidated.  

[twelvedy7]

Twisted - One shot

warning: sensitive topics (drugs). 

I just wanted to write something a bit different. It might be a bit OCC but I thought it might be a great fit for the manga universe.   This story won’t be published anywhere else than tumblr so feel free to save the story if you like it.

Oh and also english isn’t really my native language so sorry if there are incoherences. 

Takano had no sense of self-control. From a very young age he has been a witness of the sheer harshness of his mother and the complete indifference of his father towards their family. Despite how much he tried to convince himself of his difference he inherited from most of their flaws, which filled him with anger every time he thought about it. 

No wonder that whenever he met someone bright, kind, generous and appreciated he became more aware of his whole dark gloomy personality. That was the case with Ritsu he was still viewing today as the 16 year-old teen he used to be a decade ago.

No wonder that when he met this bright, kind and generous highschool kid he had become more aware of his dark gloomy personality. He was still viewing Ritsu as the 16 year-old teen he used to be a decade ago and yet he couldn’t understand for the life of him the reason why such a lovable person would waste their time with him rather than finding another likeable person that would be such a better companion than him.

If all the open rejections from the brunette could make him believe he hated him, he was at least smart enough to read between the lines and see what the other tried so hard to conceal under feigned anger and flustered reactions. 

What seemed to be like a bitter-sweet genuine love story from two ignorant teenagers who lost each other from a foolish misunderstanding was driving him straight into madness. Ritsu was constantly on his mind, invading his thoughts at any time of the day, reminding him of the terrible person he was and how he will never be nowhere near enough for him. Even in the poorly credible reality where the younger one would actually build up the courage to admit his feelings, he knew that their relationship was sealed to failure. 

One day Ritsu would mature and realise how incompatible they were and how idealistic they’ve been this whole time before leaving him to find another person that could offer him the support and love he needed. Maybe one day Ritsu would find the man of his dreams, different from senpai in every way, to finally live the blissful life he aspired to. That’s what broke his heart the most: they were not made for each other. No matter how hard he tried, it will never be enough because they were simply not meant to. 

He imagined Ritsu’s soulmate to be fun, social, caring, communicative and considerate which would make him forget all the turmoil he went through for all this time. His parents might be so enchanted by their personality that the fact they weren’t An-Chan wouldn’t even bother them.

The truth is he was physically and emotionally drained. He couldn’t feel a thing if it wasn’t his love for Ritsu and sometimes he felt as if that was his last tie with sanity. There were times where he would shut down his emotions. When it became too difficult to confront their inevitable fate, he would put himself in a semi-automatic mode working up to 15 hours straight without paying attention to anything or anyone, only accomplishing what he ought to.

Over time, he came to accept that he wasn’t able to love anyone without causing them a great deal of pain and suffering. That’s why he decided to distance himself from the few people who actually cared about him in his life and managed to bring him some split meaningful moments of happiness. It was like a lightning bolt shaking him from side to side, making him surrender to the hope of one day being able to spend the rest of his life with Ritsu and recovering from his long-lost friendship with Yokozawa. He hurt them both and didn’t deserve to be part of their lives. 

His phone vibrated. He broke off his thoughts to center his attention on the alias displaying on the screen: “Taisho” along with a message “I’m here.”

He stood up from the floor, came up to the entrance of his apartment and opened the door. A man of average-height in his mid-thirties was waiting for him. At first glance, he gave the impression of being a regular salary-man coming back home to his family after a long day of hard work. However, he came to discover that the man likely had a long history of debt behind him involving matters such as a costly divorce and low paychecks.

Not bothering to greet him, he pulled out 6,000 yen from his pocket and handed it to the fearful looking man who replaced the notes with a small transparent plastic bag containing a white powder. 

“Same thing next week?” asked the anxious black-haired man, his light blue eyes too faithful to be a dealer squeezing behind his oval glasses. 

“Yeah. See you.” 

Without giving him a second glance, he double-locked the door and came back to his dimly lit living room that felt so lonely without Ritsu here. It would take some time, if not forever, to prevent this heavy load in his heart from manifesting every time he would find himself alone without the prospect of his first love joining him any time soon. 

It still pained him… Nao came unannounced in the office earlier in the morning and asked Ritsu out for something that too likely looked like a date. A walk in the city center, a restaurant, and a nighttime exposure. That bastard. 

The rare times he had managed to take Ritsu out for a date was by forcefully dragging him out of his apartment or bluntly lying by message playing the card of ‘emergency’. He remembered the dull ache he felt in the morning as he realised how easy it was for his “best-friend” to take him out to a full outing while he had to prepare a strategy days ahead just to drink a coffee together. 

Opening the tiny bag in his hands, he chased away his dark thoughts and kneeled in front of his coffee table, pouring half of the powder out on its surface and realigned it in two fine lines with the help of an old credit card. He usually didn’t take such high doses in one shot, but tonight he knew that he needed it. The accumulated pain and overthinking were taking a toll on him. Rolling a paper, he brought it to his right nostril and sniffed the first line, ignoring the burning pain in his cavity before passing it to his left one and repeated the action.

A few seconds later he started feeling the tiny molecules flowing through his blood system, noticing the faster pace of his heart beat and the gradual relaxation of his muscles as the drug invaded his mind.

He closed his eyes. 

As always, the thrill was exquisite. The far away sounds of ambient city noises echoed and at some point the only thing he could decipher in the absolute silence was his own breath. His body was soft and any psychological pain he felt instantly disappeared. It was as if someone had covered him with a warm fluffy blanket while stroking his hair with a gentle grasp, providing him an endless feeling of comfort and security he so desperately needed. 

At that moment, everything stopped and all his troubles went away. Nothing mattered anymore. He was back being a young child pampered by a protective mother he never had with an unconditional sense of love. Pleasurable sensations coursed through his body from head to toes until his spirit went numb and he lost any notion of space and time. 

He reached that moment of nothingness that he wished could last forever.

___ 

“Takano-san!” 

...

“Takano-san!” 

Who was it? 

The voice seemed so far away he wasn’t even sure it was real.

“Masamune!” Why would someone try to break the silent darkness that was surrounding him?

For what seemed like hours, he felt himself trapped in-between the process of gaining and losing consciousness. He didn’t want to be drawn from his deep slumber yet.

He recognized some familiar voices in the background but it was hard to put a name on them as they seemed to continuously echo. 

It took him several more minutes to realise that people were present and it shook him. He became hyper aware of his environment.

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was a bunch of white blouses around him scampering around the room at a feverish speed. 

His mind whirled. The world seemed to be going so fast but his brain was so slow. 

His golden eyes blinked several times to adjust to the brightness of the room. In an instant he was blinded by the artificial light of the leds on the ceiling. 

In the chaos of all the fast-paced strangers around him, he felt a delicate hand fondling with the hair on the short back of his neck and let out a soft tired moan escape his lips. 

“Takano-san can you hear me?!” 

He groggily stretched out his limbs while burying his head on the petite body frame behind him and looked up to see who was the kind stranger offering him such soft intentions. 

Above him were two wide teary green eyes displaying a worried expression. Despite his blurry vision, he could recognize the refined and familiar traits of the man he loved. It looked surreal, having the both of them like this sharing such intimacy in a restless atmosphere.

Next to him was standing Yokozawa in his usual professional attire. He could only watch them through half-closed eyes all the while trying to figure out what they were doing in his apartment in the first place.

“He’s stable now. Overdoses happen regularly when cocaine and other powerful stimulants are added to the equation. That’s what producers do nowadays to boost the effects”. Said a firm feminine voice. He could see the lady in white gesturing around to her colleagues and immediately realised what just happened. She was staring at him, probably trying to jauge how awake her patient was. 

“You were lucky Takano-san. This could have been much more serious.” 

He saw his friend sitting next to Ritsu, his usual severe expression ruptured by the deep crease in his eyebrows. 

“How did you find me?” asked the raven, his voice so weak he wasn’t sure the two others heard him. 

The brunette brought his face closer to his ear, petting his forehead as he replied in a shaky shy voice: “Yokozawa-san found you like this…” he heard a sneeze. “The front door was unlocked and your phone was ringing without you answering it. You… You stopped breathing.” 

He felt absolutely miserable. 

Trying to shift his position to have a better view of his comrades, he caught the look of utter disappointment and guilt from his older friend. He probably thought that he was long done with this dark hazardous period of his life. 

“I’m… I’m sorry... I didn’t want to…” 

His battle to stay awake was getting harder and harder. 

“It’s okay Masamune. Just rest for now.”

The nurse took a hold of his wrist and stuck the intravenous line with a patch. 

“We’re going to transfer you to the clinic as you need to take several tests. You’re safe now but your body needs to recover.” 

The hand that was playing with his hair resumed and he let his head fall back on his lap. This combined with the liquid in his body led him to a sleep without dreams.

___

When he woke up again, he found himself buried under the sheets of a hospital bed. It took him some time to become accustomed to the artificial lighting of the room. Gathering enough energy to finally keep his eyes open, he gazed at the clock at his right indicating 4:55AM.

The first thing he felt was an atrocious headache that hit him with a massive chest pain undertaking his whole body. He noticed the numerous wires connected to his skin accompanied with the steady regular bips of a machine.

He heard a light snore on his right. Shifting his head, he immediately saw the small fragile figure crawling up into a ball on the couch. A cheap blanket was covering him from toes to his neck. This sight made him feel so terribly selfish. As seconds went by he started getting back to a normal state of awareness despite a fizzy pang at the back of his skull. 

With as much strength as he could gather he sprawled a hand towards him and rested it on the others’ laps. He stroked his thigh lightly with the help of his thumb and stared at his seemingly exhausted resting face. He felt so worthless. He knew he had hurt him badly in the past already and the only thing he could think of is that this was too much.

“I’m so sorry Ritsu…”. 

After reuniting with his first love following the 10 years they had spent apart from one another he had started to believe in fate. Yet he had been too trustful, using it as a justification for every one of his impatient and inappropriate moves towards the younger one. Everything became painfully obvious. This whole thing they had was destructive and that was mainly his fault. It was time to finally respect the distance that Ritsu wanted and deserved. He could not go back to these college years pretending that nobody cared about him. 

Now Ritsu would need him. 

Still, they were nowhere near close from getting into a relationship. Too many mistakes had been made. It was crucial for both men to work on themselves first as jumping the steps one more time would only bring them unhappiness.

That day Takano swore he would stop pursuing Ritsu. He’s forever been broken and finally accepting to get help was a start towards a less twisted life.

“It’s okay Ritsu.” 

One day they would be okay. They would get the life they both secretly wanted.