#and the thing that resonates with me the most is when he said he spent so long being angry now he wants to be softer and more gentle

[jeonqkooks]

i keep saying i have yoongi brainrot but i don't think you know just how much i love him actually. like after d-day release my admiration for him has grown exponentially. i love him with my whole heart.

[trentsgirl]

— 🤍 ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ (part two to stupidly in love with you)

⟡ summary: after being banned from the next match, jude decided to drown his sorrows in alcohol. as you accompanied him on his way home, he shared something with you.

⟡ content: friends to lovers, very fluffy, mentions of kissing, no cliffhanger this time, around nine hundred words.

⟡ streaming: better by zayn.

⟡ masterlist, part one, part two.

escorting jude back to his home was quite tiring and draining. it felt like you had walked for ages until you finally managed to get him to bed.

jude quickly fell asleep, dozing off as soon as his head touched the pillow. you couldn’t help but smile softly at the sound of his snores, although it quickly faded as you noticed the mess in his room.

being someone who values cleanliness, you promptly began tidying up jude’s room, making sure to be as quiet as possible. you didn’t want to risk waking him, especially considering how intoxicated he was. you didn’t want him to start rambling endlessly again.

after folding the last of the numerous t-shirts strewn on the floor, you closed the closet and were just about to leave his room when jude unexpectedly grabbed your wrist as you walked by the bed.

you were taken aback as jude quietly uttered, “don’t go..”

you couldn’t fathom how jude had sensed your intention to leave, but you knew he wouldn’t provide a clear explanation as he was about to drift off to sleep again.

“uhm, jude, i need to head home. it’s really late.” you whispered, trying to gently release his hold on your wrist, but was left astonished by his strength even in his drowsy state.

jude struggled to contain his emotions and actions, but he was certain about one thing - he wanted you to stay with him. he longed for your presence, not just tonight, but every night.

“don’t leave, please..” he murmured, his eyes opening to reveal a pleading gaze that instantly melted your hopeless heart.

jude was your achhilles’ heel, and you despised the power he held over you.

typically, you wouldn’t hesitate to share a bed with jude. it had occurred a few times during your friendship, like on vacations or when he traveled for football.

however, this time was different. because this time he confessed his feelings for you.

but, seeing him so vulnerable was agonizing, and it pained you physically.

in a moment of weakness, you gave in, sighing as you slipped under the covers. thhe warmth from both the blanket and jude’s body heat enveloped you.

he wasted no time in clinging to you and you made no effort to push him away, exuding excitement like a little boy who had just been given candy. your heart started racing, and heat crept up your cheeks. there was no way you could drift off to sleep in this state.

the room fell into a brief silence before jude broke it, his voice sounding more alert. “i wasn’t lying, you know... when i said i love you.”

his voice resonated with such sincerity that it tugged at your heart. as you lay on your side, your gaze fixated on the man who held your deepest affections. the intensity in his eyes implored you to trust him, to believe in his words.

curiosity compelled you to pose a question, testing the depths of his emotions. “when did you first realize that you loved me?” you inquired.

without hesitation, jude responded with unwavering honesty. “i’ve loved you for longer than i care to admit, y/n. perhaps it was that night we spent together in greece, or the time you told me i was the one you trusted most. but i was afraid of ruining what we had, or lose you, so i kept my feelings to myself.”

his heartfelt admission crashed over you like a powerful wave, leaving you stunned and overwhelmed. your cheeks flushed, and you found it difficult to maintain eye contact, fearing that your emotions would be too transparent.

for years, you had convinced yourself that jude would never view you in a romantic light.

he had been involved with other women, introducing you to so many that you had lost all hope for a romantic connection between the two of you.

the realization that jude reciprocated your feelings brought both a sense of bliss and trepidation. it was a mix of emotions - the joy of knowing that you no longer had to conceal your love, and the fear of what this newfound vulnerability might entail.

“you won’t ruin or lose me,” you assured him, reclaiming your gaze and locking it with his. determined to convey your reciprocal feelings, you boldly caressed his cheek, bridging the distance between your lips.

a sudden hitch in his breath revealed his anticipation and exhilaration coursing through his veins.

“you’ll always have me, jude.” you whispered before finally uniting your lips with his, cherishing the electrifying sensation that passed between you.

jude’s initial surprise quickly faded as he responded with equal fervor. he settled the rhythm of the kiss into a tranquil and unhurried rhythm, as if he wanted to savor every moment. it became evident that jude had no intention of letting you slip away after this. he was determined to make you his, forever.

the sensation of his lips against yours surpassed any expectations you had. it felt like pure bliss, surpassing even your wildest imagination. in this moment, you wished that time would stand still, never allowing you to return to a time before experiencing the euphoria of his kiss.

with a gentle separation, you finally uttered the words he longed to hear:

“i love you too.”

jude’s face broke into a triumphant grin, his heart leaping with joy. he had sensed your reciprocation from the moment your lips met, but he couldn’t contain his excitement.

lovingly pressing a kiss against the tip of your nose, he responded with a tender smile, “i know, baby. i know.”

[veturiusofserra]

when you know, you know | s. r.

𑁤 synopsis: in an interview she opens up about how easy it is to be loved by Spencer, sharing the story of how they met and how his love inspired her music.

𑁤 pairing: spencer reid x singer!reader

𑁤 words: 1.090

𑁤 disclaimer: This was 100% inspired by something my bf said a while ago, and I love the song. I hope you will enjoy it too <3

“As we reach the close of our conversation, one thing’s bugging me. In your song “Margaret,” there’s this line ‘when you know, you know.’ Like, how do you just know someone’s the one? I’ve been through my share of relationships, yet I haven’t experienced that kind of thing you sing about. In your song, it’s all so clear-cut, like you can predict the future. It reminds me of a kid believing in the tooth fairy – sweet idea, maybe not quite real. But that’s probably what makes the song so good. It talks about this perfect love where everything just clicks, and all your worries disappear. Maybe that’s what I’m still looking for, or maybe it’s just for some lucky people. Either way, your song paints such a strong picture of love that it makes me wonder if I’ll ever have a ‘Margaret’ of my own.”

“It’s funny, right? The answer everyone gives is so simple: “you’ll just know.” Like love hits you like a lightning bolt, destiny calls, happily ever after guaranteed. But maybe that’s the problem. We get this picture-perfect idea of love from movies and books, and then we miss the real thing when it’s right under our noses. We set these high expectations, these checklists of what “the one” should be like. And if someone doesn’t tick every box, we write them off. It’s like searching for a flawless diamond, forgetting that even the most beautiful gems have tiny imperfections. Because guess what? We all mess up. You make mistakes, I make mistakes, everyone does. Maybe that’s what makes a real connection so special – accepting someone, flaws and all. Speaking of which, there’s this story I wanted to share with you.”

“We're all ears!”, the interviewer and the crew smile with waiting faces.  

“For the longest time, I believed I was destined to give love, but never receive it.  Maybe because... well, let’s be honest, I can be a bit self-absorbed, lost in my own head and neglecting others. But even with the no love life mantra, there was always this yearning for a family, a deep desire for children I could call my own. The ‘what ifs’ terrified me, though. Would I be a good parent? Would they be happy? Could I provide for them? Eventually, I resigned myself to a life of music, making people happy through my art, having a few friends, maybe a tragically young death – you know, the artist’s curse. 

Then, I found him. We both know Penny, but run in different circles. He’s in law, I’m an artist – about as different as you get, except for maybe a shared love of fancy vocabulary. We met at Penny’s birthday party, and while he claims it was love at first sight for him, I just thought he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. But that was it. He was too shy to introduce himself, and I was sworn off men at the time. Funny how fate works, right?  We never crossed paths before, but after that night, it seemed like everywhere I turned, there he was. That’s when I decided to take a chance, and boy, I was so scared!

All those stories about soulmates and butterflies? They weren’t for me. Anxiety had been my constant companion for as long as I could remember. Butterflies just meant another battle brewing in my head. What I craved was peace, a steady hand to anchor me until I was ready to set sail. So, I built a friendship with him. We shared secrets, dreams, and vulnerabilities. He turned out to be a brilliant mind, a walking encyclopedia with an IQ of 187. Yet, he never made me feel inferior. He found humor in my quirks, and we seemed to complement each other perfectly. The more time we spent together, the more his words resonated: “We were designed for one another.”

And then, it hit me. Love. Deep, unexpected, and all-encompassing. It felt effortless, a perfect fit. But fear gnawed at me. It was all so new, so unfamiliar. Just as I was drowning in uncertainty, Penny, our mutual friend, reached out. She had something to show me – “Margaret.”

“She wrote it?” she asked, intrigued.

“Well, she started it,” I clarify. “Inspired by him, she penned the first lines that night after the birthday party. She couldn't shake the image of his longing gaze, a sight she’d never witnessed before. It felt sacred, a raw glimpse into his heart. The initial draft, rough around the edges, went something like this: ‘just writing for a friend. My shirt's inside out, and penmanship is messy. He met her on the rooftop, and she wore white. He said, ‘I think I’m in trouble.’ He saw flashes of the future.” A gentle smile graces your lips. 

“Seriously, that’s adorable.”

I nod, a blush creeping up my cheeks. “Right? Her words sparked inspiration within me. I wrote the rest, my mind consumed by-”

“By him.” she prompted, leaning in.

“He made love feel simple. Loving me was effortless for him, a stark contrast to the struggle I’d always imagined. It was like breathing, a natural and easy rhythm. He helped me discover the light that had been hiding within me all along.”

“There’s a saying,” the interviewer began, “to be loved is to be changed.”

I smiled. “I prefer a different one: to be loved is to be known. Because maybe, just maybe, he saw the affection within me all along, the part I couldn’t quite see myself.”

“You are indeed full of affection,” she said warmly. “Thank you for sharing this story with us.”

“Thank you for listening. I know it's a cliché, but there truly is someone out there for everyone. You never know what tomorrow holds, but deep down, a tiny spark ignites within us, guiding us towards that love. Trust it.”

“That wraps it up for our interview with the lovely Y/n! But before we say goodbye, there's one more message for her. Can we play it, Jonah?” A nod later, the studio fills with the sound of a familiar voice.

“Hey there, love. Just wanted to say congratulations on the album! You poured your heart and soul into it, and I’m incredibly proud. But hey, can you come home soon? Two days feels like an eternity without you. Miss my other half. Love you tons, sweetheart. And everyone listening, stream Ocean Boulevard! Dex says hi to mom, too.” A meow erupts in the background, eliciting a laugh from you and the studio crew.

thoughts? or prayers idk

[twig-tea]

Why We Are Gives Me Anxiety

I have been fighting myself on this We Are post for weeks because I wanted to make sure I knew what I wanted to say and was able to say it. I feel the need to say off the top that I don’t begrudge anyone who enjoyed this show and I’m genuinely glad it brought comfort to people. The show in and of itself, as 16 hour-long episodes of fluff (shout-out to @stuffnonsenseandotherthings for using this word to pinpoint the genre for this show, because it’s perfect), is not offensive or bad or wrong or any judgmental or moralistic word. And it does some things well; the centrality of the friend group was a lovely aspect to this show, and the chemistry in the friendship group scenes was on point. All of the couples have good romantic chemistry as well, and the show is packed with butterflies-inducing moments. 

That being said, I did not enjoy watching this show. I watch television mostly for the story; This show felt more like watching 16 special episodes for a show I hadn’t seen (I think this can be attributed to the point made by @italianpersonwithashippersheart in her post here that the show assumes the audience comes to the show with a pre-existing buy-in to the ships). The lack of overarching narrative structure of We Are gave my brain nothing to hold onto and I spent so much of every episode futilely trying to figure out how scenes worked with what had come before, what the show was trying to say, what these characters were thinking–all of which I knew was the wrong way to be watching, but it’s the way my brain works, so I spent a lot of the show frustrated. In short, this show wasn’t for me. 

But that’s not why I feel the need to write about it. Shows are fully allowed to not be for me, I usually can differentiate between when a show is doing something I don’t like well, or when it’s failing at its own goals. And I don’t begrudge people with different taste getting catered to sometimes; my refrain is that most problems of representation are not solved by calling for less of something, and rather than wanting something not to be made, I’d rather champion for more and a greater variety of content. And lord knows there’s enough BL to go around these days (shouting out @respectthepetty’s post along these lines, which I loved) . But We Are still worries me, and I’ve been trying to find a way to articulate that my concerns are not actually about the show itself, in isolation, but rather about how it feels like part of a pattern. This is my best attempt at laying that out. It’s going to get a little ramble-y, so apologies in advance.

Shout-out to @bengiyo who first articulated this anxiety in his post from relatively early in the show’s run . Ben gets into some of where I’m coming from with concerns about what this show means for the genre in this post, which as he mentions we've chatted about in DMs. I’m really grateful to him for these conversations because in isolation, I worried that I was being alarmist. It was helpful to have confirmation that he was feeling the same way so that I could get out of my own head.  

Ben mentions in his post that New Siwaj has been in this business a long time, and I, like Ben, have jived with him for years because he manages to imbue queer angst into his shows in a way that resonates with me, even when he’s had missteps. I'm going to lay out some of the major highlights of his work for those who haven't followed New for years.

He was an editor on Love Sick, arguably the start of the Thai BL genre as we know it today, and a show full to the brim of queer angst. He directed Make It Right, one of my favourite Thai BL comedy series. This show was also an ensemble centered around a friendship group (though admittedly it didn’t balance the friendship and romance content as strongly as We Are), and it covers so many topics that felt refreshing at the time and still are rare (morning-after sex visits to the clinic because things went poorly, hooking up on the apps, sex acts beyond just penetration, suicidality, I could go on). He also was involved in the GMMTV Waterboyy series–this was his first work for GMMTV that I am aware of. That show had a lot of issues but did explore internalized homophobia and bullying.

He worked as a cinematographer on En of Love, which is again similar to We Are in that it has several couples connected by a friendship group (and is several novels in one series), but each couple was given its own miniseries instead of bundling them into one show. En of Love also still dealt with some serious queer angst, especially in the Love Mechanics story [Sidenote, Niink, the director for En of Love, stuck with New and moved on to work for Wabi Sabi].

At this point, New created his own company, Studio Wabi Sabi, which he's said in interviews was to gain more creative control over what he was working on. And his stories became arguably even more explicitly queer and inclusive of queer trauma. He screenwrote and produced Love By Chance (which folks may not remember or know, but that core story starts off with Pete being blackmailed for being gay until Ae convinces him to come out to his mother and shut down the leverage for blackmail, and a good chunk of Pete’s character arc is unlearning internalized homophobia and not seeing himself as ‘corrupting’ Ae) and then Until We Meet Again. The queer angst in UWMA probably doesn’t need my help spelling out, but just in case anyone doesn’t know the summary, this show was about a queer couple who committed suicide in the face of homophobia in the 1980s, and were reborn and given another chance to be together in present day. I did want to note that in both of these series (LBC and UWMA) the core romance itself has no major conflicts; both AePete and DeanPharm felt like they were intentionally side-stepping so many of the usual BL drama tropes of jealousy and misunderstandings through trust and communication. Dean and Pharm’s story took that even further by having so many of the usual drama pitfalls for a gay couple just not be a problem; their only drama comes from their past lives, in a beautiful exploration of the breaking of intergenerational trauma. So many external threats to their relationship ended up being non-starters, and this was my version of a comfort series for that reason. 

From there, New started working with GMMTV again, and directed My Gear and Your Gown. This series was, to my knowledge, the first GMMTV BL series to mention HIV and to show characters getting tested at the clinic, and while it wasn’t perfect representation (didn’t get into PrEP, treated HIV as a death sentence), it felt like an important milestone.

[I’m skipping the sequels and specials he did for series I already talked about, because they don’t feel that important to the story I’m telling here and this is already so long, but I wanted to acknowledge that I’m not covering everything in his oeuvre.]

He then directed 7 Project, which had some serious storylines dealing with bullying and struggling with life in the closet, out of Wabi Sabi, and then Star and Sky out of GMMTV. Star in My Mind included one of the main characters in a beard relationship for years, and some controversy over the adaptation choices to make Daonuea (Dunk’s character) less polite than in the books. There was drama around the pronouns and characterization in that show (both Daonuea and Khabkluen use guu/mueng in the series, but in the novel, Daonuea uses rao; he also curses in the series and novel fans complained that he was too ‘masculine’). I thought it was an interesting attempt at a departure from BL character tropes to try to make Daonuea more evenly matched with Khabkluen in terms of his gender presentation in the show. Sky in Your Heart also included some angst about whether people of a particular station could be gay. Both of these shows (SIMM and SIYH) were also very trope-y, but they had clear throughlines. 

My Only 12%, the next show New directed out of Wabi Sabi, contains one of my favourite moments in all of BL, in which Seeiw sees Love of Siam and cries because it makes him realize he’s gay. There’s this heartfelt moment where he asks his sister, if there’s nothing wrong with being gay, why doesn’t the film let the gay characters have a happy ending? Despite the weird PSA ending, this show remains one of my favourites.

This is an aside but I’ve long been fascinated about this moment in New’s history: he played himself in War of Y, as a director of BL who is sick of being forced to make BL shows full of fanservice; he treats the actors with disdain and cuts marketable high heat scenes from the show which makes everyone nervous for the show’s future. Later we see him and the actor characters on set for My Only 12%, much happier. I ask myself about this moment at least once a week: Did he write this self-insert? Did someone else write the character and he just played it, and the similarities to his style were (were not?) a coincidence? I hope someone knows and tells me one day,

From there, New functioned as an Executive Producer of Dear Doctor, I’m Coming for Soul [I think this was the first outsourced project by Wabi Sabi]. This series’ entire plot is a metaphor for living in the closet and waiting for the time when the main couple can be together fully without having to hide. 

He directed A Boss and a Babe for GMMTV (which had its problems for sure, but also had Cher as an out gay man at the workplace dealing with casual homophobia in a way that was extremely satisfying), and then Between Us, which is maybe the least queer feeling show Wabi Sabi produced on its own, but did go into the issues of dating and the closet while trying to become a star (if I’ve forgotten something from this show let me know, I only watched it the once). One of the things that was so strange about this show was it being a sequel to UWMA but not engaging with the same themes. The only mention of real world queerness I can remember was the acknowledgment that they can’t get married in Thailand and Dean and Pharm discussing again going abroad and getting married there. 

Absolute Zero was a complete mess of a show; New directed this one for Wabi Sabi, and it has some similarities to UWMA in the sense of there being an attempt at saving the gays from the bury your gays trope, this time via time loop rather than reincarnation, but it did not take the issues it raised seriously enough (including the age gap created between the two characters by virtue of time travel). 

And that leads us to We Are for GMMTV, which as Pluem (@happypotato48)  wrote in his excellent post about this, includes Toey using nu and other 'feminine' or 'youthful' sounding language, but also apparently dropped the main conflict of the novel between Phum and his father (because his father disapproved of Peem).

Why did I go through all of that? Because I wanted to lay out how I've watched New Siwaj’s career go from finding a way to tell incredibly poignant and healing queer narratives (by creating his own company, and fitting these moments into the GMMTV series he did work on) to stripping out queerness from the shows he’s creating in the last year or so.

And this is a pattern we’re seeing more widely at GMMTV in particular, but also in Thai QL more widely. This is something that was touched on but not really discussed in the most recent episode of The Conversation podcast (the 23.5 and only boo! episode here). In both 23.5 and Only Boo!, the show faked out a homophobic parent and then treated their kids like they were silly to assume the worst, and I hated that.

Both Ongsa and Kang had internalized homophobia in their respective series. Both were terrified of telling their mothers about their homosexual love interest. And in both cases, their mothers told them something along the lines of 'of course I will support you no matter what'. In Ongsa's case, even though she was outed by Sun without her consent, she's the one who ends up apologizing for her hesitancy and feeling foolish for her concern. In Kang's case, the show never challenges his mother's assertion that she'll always support him even though we know she hasn’t (she was the one who wanted to prevent him from studying art before his father died), and it’s the audience that was left feeling foolish for our concern. 

In the GMMTV round table for Pride Month, it was mentioned that the decision for Ongsa's mother to be accepting of her relationship with Sun was made in order to model good parental behaviour for the older generation in the audience. In the novel, Ongsa's mother presents a significant conflict, but this conflict was erased from the show. I don't know if the same decision was made in Only Boo! for the same reason or not, but either way, the show definitely signalled to Kang's mother having an issue with Kang's relationship with Moo, and then said "sike", which I did not enjoy. The Conversation panelists were correct in the conversation linked and transcribed above that this wasn't the most egregious misstep either show made, but it feels like a telling symptom of the larger overall narrative problems that New is also now succumbing to.

It seems as though telling stories stripped of queer conflict is being seen as progressive, and possibly also easier to sell, and this is where my anxiety lies around what this will mean for Thai QL content in future. 

For the record, I am all for creating queer content in which we envision a better world for ourselves. But when that is the goal, understanding where internalized homophobia comes from and thinking through how removing parental objection will affect the character and the story is vital to the story and characterization remaining coherent. Otherwise it just ends up feeling like the show is telling queer kids that they're paranoid, rather than rightly worried (like I wrote about in this thread on My Love Mix-Up Thailand, where the same decision was made again to fake out a homophobic subplot that was removed from the adaptation but was present in the source material).

These choices speak to adaptation choices with an eye for specific moments and story points, rather than to a narrative or character arc, which is where it feels like they fall into the wider pattern of what @bengiyo, @shortpplfedup and @ginnymoonbeam were describing in their discussion: shows caring more about hitting specific meme-able story points listed out on a whiteboard than about making cohesive sense or having something coherent to say. 

[So as not to leave it out: I don’t think there were concerns of homophobia in the Wandee Goodday novel (novel readers feel free to correct me if I’m wrong about this) but the show faked us out about homophobia concerns anyway, which again really bothered me during that watch and which adds to the pattern.] 

Now, of course, as I stated up at the top there is value in the creation of different kinds of media. These shows sell different fantasies than the ones I want to see, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have value.All of BL has some amount of fantasy that it’s buying into, that’s what comes with the territory of ‘fiction’. The BL bubble (in which homophobia doesn’t exist and all men are gay for each other) is a version that is at its most extreme; nothing bad ever happens that isn’t quickly resolved within an episode, so there is never narrative tension, and nobody really needs to be that concerned about how anything will go ever. I do not find these relaxing because I can’t buy into the fantasy they’re selling; for me, the lack of narrative tension is so unbelievable as to ruin my immersion. But I can see why that would be appealing for someone whose brain is not always on alert and running at 11/10! The problem I am anticipating is when the majority of content is made that way, and when it is done in a way that takes up all of the mainstream space. I think it’s notable that the only show that’s really felt not in the queer bubble from GMMTV in 2024 is Cooking Crush, which was done by a subsidiary team within GMMTV (and the same team went on to make Only Boo!). And this is why We Are caught my attention and made me nervous; When a director who is known for his representation of poignant queer angst makes an entire 16-hour series in which there are no significant conflicts at all and the only hint of homophobia is in Toey’s reference to being bullied prior to the timeframe of the series, I get worried about who is going to be making the queer angst shows in future!  

For the record, my personal preference for comfort shows are the shows that do not pretend the world is perfect, but do depict an idealized subset of that world→where there’s a group of people that support one another through the bullshit of others and the less than perfect world that surrounds them. Shows that teach us to be kind to one another, and ourselves. Shows that say the world is going to suck sometimes, but we can be good to one another, and not lose sight of who we are, and make space for others to be themselves. A few of my favourite Thai series that do this would be: 

Bad Buddy

Cooking Crush

City of Stars

Knock Knock Boys

Miracle of Teddy Bear

My Only 12%

Secret Crush on You

To Sir With Love

Until We Meet Again

(and of course these occur in non-Thai shows as well. A few examples of my favourites: What Did You Eat Yesterday, DNA Says Love You, Light on Me, Oppan, Marahuyo Project, TsukuTabe, Tadaima Okaeri, Koisenu Futari, Joshi-teki Seikatsu, Gameboys, Hehe and He, Twilight out of Focus, She Makes My Heart Flutter)

These are shows in which there are explicitly external judgments on the relationships in the show and/or the characters for things intrinsic to who they are, and the characters build a support structure in which folks are encouraged to be themselves within that ‘bubble’ (Bad Buddy walks a fine line because it’s within the BL bubble but the problems that the main couple face are so a direct allegory that everything feels familiar; this is also the case with Tadaima Okaeri, which is both omegaverse and one of the most beautifully kind shows of all time). 

So for now, I still have the other smaller Thai studios including Kongthup Productions (who made Knock Knock Boys; we’ll see whether their latest series Monster Next Door deals with any queer angst or not), idolFactory (just finished My Marvellous Dream is You, which had a ton of queer angst, and is currently doing The Loyal Pin, which I have hope for on this front), DeeHup (currently making I Saw You In My Dream, which I’m holding out hope for) and StarHunter Entertainment (who made City of Stars, but whose record is a little spotty on this front; Their latest, Sunset Vibes, has not done a great job of handling the theme of office relationships and blackmail so far, and feels very much in the bubble) to look forward to. 

But as you can see even just by virtue of the caveats I included above, it feels like this shift is happening in the smaller companies too (harder to see a real pattern with fewer data points, which is one of the reasons why I picked on GMMTV–in addition to it being the largest media conglomerate in Thailand and therefore able to take it). Maybe it’s nothing, maybe I’m just an anxious person. Or maybe I’m just wrong about what would be best for the genre and for queer people in Thailand as well as viewers all over the world. But I, for one, would find it a loss if Thai QL decides en masse to pivot away from queer angst, and right now it kind of feels like that’s what it’s doing. In this context, to reiterate my original point, the existence of We Are is not a problem, but is one in a set of exemplars that raised specific alarm bells due to the people involved and their history in QL and queer representation, its deviation from the source material, and the surrounding shows that seem to indicate a pattern rather than a one-off. 

[senualothbrok]

Remembrance

Summary: In Waterdeep, Tav journeys through grief and loss, with Gale by her side.

(Featuring fighter and Harper Tav, Professor Dekarios, and Jaheira.)

Word count: 4.9k

AO3 link

Disclaimers: Non-18+. Angst (with resolution). Grief/bereavement.

A/N: This fic is dedicated to @tee-dohrnii, who wanted to read about Gale comforting a Tav who has experienced grief and loss. I hope that anyone who resonates with this journey finds comfort, hope and healing through this fic.

Thank you again to @inglorionamy-ammy for being a fantastic beta-reader.

**********

She would roll her eyes. That was Charis’ usual response, when you were halfway through a diatribe about your uncle’s ineptitude as a parent, or the way the roads were more perilous than they used to be, or how she had always been stubborn to a fault.

But the last time you saw her, Charis had thrown her head back and said instead, “You always do this.”

“Do what?” you retorted, irritated by her interruption.

Her bright eyes crinkled slightly, her voice softening.

“You forget. You look back at something, and you just see one part of it. You forget the rest of it. You forget to remember.”

You had stared at her, backfooted by her sudden seriousness. Her unexpected insight embarrassed you. You waved her away.

But this is what you remember now.

****

“You’ll be pleased to know that all is in order for the funeral, my Lady. There’s only one matter left, on which we’d be grateful for your direction.”

You stare at the cleric. There is a languid deliberation, a cloying softness, in his words and movements, common to all the clerics of Lathander in this temple. It irks you, how they speak as though life were a slumbering companion to tiptoe around, rather than a crushing flood leaving nothing but rubble in its wake.

Beside you, Gale clasps your hand. Your other hand is a balled fist. You gaze at the blanching of your knuckles.

“What do you need from me?” you hear yourself say.

The cleric hums as he thumbs through a crusty tome, his gnarled fingers scratching at the pages. With a practised smile, he holds the words out to you.

“We would like you to choose a reading on Charis’ behalf, to commence and conclude the ceremony. There are five potential passages.” He indicates each one painstakingly. “Please let us know which one your sister would have preferred.”

You stare blankly at the writing as it swirls and congeals into a mass of meaningless blots. You stare and stare, until you can stare no longer, until you are no longer sure what you are staring at. Gale’s hold on your hand tightens.

“Brother Walter,” he says. “Perhaps you can leave the passages with us, so that Tav can have a moment to consider them?”

The cleric nods, an impression of patience, understanding. “Of course. Take all the time you need.”

He lays the tome on the table between you and rises. As you watch his stooped and receding back, a bolt of bile surges within you.

“Shouldn’t you know?”

Brother Walter stops, glancing back. “Pardon?”

You stand. Haltingly, Gale follows suit. His fingers remain intertwined in yours, as if he is afraid to let you go.

“Charis came here every week,” you say. “For daily prayers, services, all the rest of it. She believed,” you jerk your hands around you, “in all of this. She spent time here with you all. She thought it was something worth doing.” 

Brother Walter’s pale eyes widen. You can tell he is unaccustomed to scathing displays of disgust. You imagine him shuffling about the temple placidly, padding out his existence with pointless prayers to his indifferent god. All at once, this is the most offensive, despicable thing you have ever imagined.

“She was one of your faithful. You knew her. Shouldn’t you know what nonsense she would prefer?”

Brother Walter looks down. Gale clears his throat. The building awkwardness only adds fuel to your fury.

“My Lady-”

“In fact, shouldn’t the Morninglord know?” you spit out. “He loves his faithful, right? Is that why he claimed Charis when she was barely twenty five, at the prime of her life? She must have been incredibly highly favoured by the Dawnbringer. What a blessing.”

Brother Walter’s thin lips twitch. You welcome his indignation, his sanctimonious chiding. You are practically begging for it. You want to fight, to rage, to scream. You want to drown this temple in the sea of your grief.

But he says nothing. Instead, Gale drifts into your vision. His eyes quiver like soft earth, his frown stilling you for a moment. Your hand goes limp in his.

“My love,” he whispers.

Your breath spasms. You are a glacier, shattering against the shore.

“I don’t have a godsdamned clue what passage Charis would have wanted,” you choke. “Charis should be here. Not me.”

Gale turns towards Brother Walter. You do not know what passes between them, and you do not care. When he shuts the door behind him, you let Gale take you in his arms. With the steel of your rage, the bleeding void that gapes, you cannot reciprocate the tenderness of Gale’s embrace. But it does not deter him. He holds you for a long time.

“Aren’t you going to tell me off?” you ask eventually.

He draws back to look at you, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. When his skin grazes yours, you wonder whether he can feel the black ice beneath.

“Whatever for?”

“Disrespect and discourtesy. Blasphemy.”

His brow steeples, his lips parting in surprise. “No, Tav. No.”

He takes your hands and kisses them, so firmly and yet so gently. You tremble at his affection, the warmth of his touch.

“I think vitriolic anger is an appropriate response to this injustice.” The lines on his forehead are deep and dark. “This tragedy.”

Everything within you twists, like the tendrils of a tornado, tearing you apart. You try to speak, to maintain composure, but all you can do is clench and unclench your fists. He notices.

He is tentative at first. Then his words tumble out swiftly, lightly, almost playful. Like Charis’ springing feet when you practised swords together. Her leaping sprint when she stole the apples that were halfway to your mouth.

“Do you want me to conjure an effigy for you to batter?” he offers. “A dummy for you to rip apart? Should I find some barrels to fireball? Perhaps some statues for you to shatter in reckless abandon?”

Months ago, you and Charis had told Gale about your favourite childhood pastime, after your father had left you in the joyless care of your uncle. Over one of Gale’s sumptuous home-cooked meals, you had laughingly extolled the virtues and cathartic benefits of breaking everything you could get your hands on. You and Charis had offered to give Gale a detailed demonstration, but he had respectfully declined.

You are cut through by the joy of this memory, and of Gale’s love in sharing it. They are a sunbeam, searing through your empty heart. You wrap your arms around his neck and bury yourself inside him.

“Charis would approve of anything you choose,” he tells you, when you start to weep.

***

“So I told her, in no uncertain terms, that the next time she sends a simulacrum to one of our Board meetings, I will not hesitate to destroy it. That got her attention.”

As Poppy bobs her head in pride, you watch her tight curls bounce like coiled springs. Beside her, Kriv’s emerald scales shine as he applauds Poppy’s bravery. Gale is chuckling, cradling your hand in his lap. You mimic a smile.

Around you, there is the echoing of clattering mugs and clinking glasses. Hollow voices bleed into trailing laughter. The glow of candlelight warms your companions’ eyes and skin, but does not touch you. You have the strange feeling of being submerged in a glass box, watching and listening, hearing but not understanding. You feel disembodied.

You have sat at this table many times. When you moved to Waterdeep with Gale, you were keen to visit the Yawning Portal, the legendary tavern where Gale had rescued an unwitting crowd from violence with the power of ale, wit and generosity.  You were overjoyed when Gale introduced you to his old friend Kriv, the dragonborn bard who narrowly escaped a stabbing on the night of Gale’s heroics. You made fast friends with Poppy, too - Gale’s colleague at Blackstaff Academy, a pyromancer in specialism as well as temperament.

And when, a few months after the wedding, Charis had moved to Waterdeep, no trip to the Yawning Portal was complete without her. It was only natural that Charis should move to be near you. Before you awoke on the nautiloid, you had worked as mercenaries together, watching each others’ backs as you had since you were children. That did not need to change, just because you were married now, and had taken up with the Harpers. Charis settled in quickly, as she always did, renting modest lodgings near your tower, surprising you by joining the City Watch as a Constable. Your baby sister, finally putting down roots beside yours. You could not imagine life without her.

You stare at the empty space beside you.

You suddenly realise that your companions have fallen silent. You look up to three pairs of eyes, brown and green and blue, expectant and concerned as they wait for your answer. You look back blankly. You did not hear the question.

“Kriv was wondering whether we can still expect Jaheira next month, my love.” Gale squeezes your hand, his smile flickering. “Apparently, he’s quite taken by her.”

Kriv sighs loudly. “There's no use hiding it. That woman’s sunken her talons into my big black heart. If I had a moment alone with her, I could-”

Poppy chortles. “You spoke to her for all of ten minutes last time, Kriv. And you were more than a little tipsy.”

“It's called love at first sight, Popsicle. The stuff of odes, sonnets and ballads.” He waves dismissively. “I thought wizards were supposed to be wise.”

Poppy arches an eyebrow. “We are.”

You are nodding, smiling. You are trying.

“Jaheira's coming next month,” you manage.

You expect Gale to come in with a quip, but he does not. As Kriv and Poppy resume their bickering, Gale dips towards you. There is no hiding from his searching gaze.

“Do you want to go home, Tav?” His face is dark with worry again, a familiar sight which shames you.

After the funeral, you promised yourself that you would keep going. You would put on a brave face, as you and Charis had always done. For so long, you only had each other. You had to be strong for her, and she for you. As fighters, you were trained to soldier on through the most harrowing of battles. You would go on as normal. You had to.

So you accept every social invitation at Blackstaff, every gathering with Morena and Tara. You show up to every shift, attend meetings with Harpers around Faerun. You try to continue as though nothing has changed.

You can tell this troubles Gale. When he encourages you to take some time out, you reassure him this is not what you need. You need to keep going. To keep doing. You shrug off his tender, knowing gaze whenever he asks if you are alright. You cannot explain that you will never be alright again. This is what life is like now, without her.

“I'm fine, Gale.” Your voice is harder than you intend. “Everything's fine.”

A frown creases his brow. You avert your eyes, leaning forward to plant a long kiss on his cheek. You let go of his hand as you rise, turning towards your friends.

In the brightest voice you can muster, you ask, “Does anyone want another round?”

***

You are drifting towards the bar when you see her at the corner of the tavern. Ash blonde hair, shaved on one side and cut harshly at the chin. A deceptively willowy frame, concealing the strength of mountains. A soft, round face with deep set, almond eyes. She turns away, back facing you, nestled within the cackling group around her.

Time stops. The glass box splinters, and you are raked through by piercing ice. You leap towards the vision of your sister - flesh and blood, alive and well, here with you, and not crushed beneath the rubble of a disintegrated orphanage.

You knew it. It could not have been Charis lying on that pallet, grey and stiff as a torn doll. That was not the Charis you had wrestled with in the grass, who spiked your drinks with chilli and laughed so loudly that your ears rang with her delight. The Charis who sang in her sleep, who sharpened your blades as you stitched up her wounds. A desperate, frenzied relief possesses you.

An elderly man yowls as you shove him aside. A coiffured youth curses as you knock half of his ale onto the floor. You ignore the heads that turn at the commotion. You bound towards her, heaving wildly as you clutch her shoulder.

“Charis,” you cry.

She spins around to face you. Her eyes are wide with confusion, the blue of a cloudless sky, not the green of spring leaves. She is all straight lines and angles, harsh and pinched. Her skin is pale, unadorned by the freckles which mirror your own. On her jarringly narrow forehead rests a choppy fringe of an unfamiliar fashion.

You are winded. You stand speechless, tears erupting from you like guttering flames. The woman who is not Charis shifts away. The burly man next to her steps forward.

“Is there a problem here?”

You cannot move, cannot think. You have lost her. You are condemned to lose her again and again. A torment, an agony of remembrance. You cannot bear it. Your legs buckle beneath you.

He catches you. You know it is Gale before you see him. His body is warm and solid around yours, his arms steadfast and sure as they embrace you. The fragrance of sandalwood and soap envelopes you. He cups your cheek, sealing your forehead with kisses.

“I’m here, Tav,” he whispers. “I’m here.”

You are shaking. His body reverberates with your grief. You wonder if it is a shield straining to crack.

“Charis… She was…I thought…”

“I know.” His gentle eyes glisten as he holds you. “And I’m so, so sorry that it wasn’t her.”

All at once, you are sobbing. Cocooned against his chest, you begin to register the swirling of footsteps around you, bent on resuming the rhythm of the bustling tavern. You feel sharp jerks of Gale’s head, hear his protective warnings to irritated passersby. You know Gale would fight any one of them if they insulted or threatened you. You cannot allow that to happen. There can be no more death, no more tragedy. You try to steady the spasms of your breaths, to regain control of your limbs. Gale waits. He does not let you go.

When you stumble to your feet, Gale stands beside you. He brushes a tear from your cheek, weaving his fingers through yours.

“Let’s go home,” he says.

***

Every dawn is a punishment. A mockery by the Morninglord.

You draw your curtains, wrap yourself in the darkness of your bedsheets. You drink in sleep like an elixir, a balm that helps you forget. A spell that maintains the illusion.

You dream of her. In your dreams, she is alive, a babe and a child and a woman all at once. Barefoot and squealing as you chased her through the summer fields. Smug and smirking as she found your hidden stash of erotica. Feverish and frail as you fed her broth in bed. Grinning and victorious as you yielded to her wooden sword.

You dream of the thorns as well as the roses. Her incandescent, roaring rage. Her vile obscenities. Her stubbornness that drove you to madness. The petty squabbles you grew out of, and the meaningless quarrels you did not. You long for them now, more than ever. What you would not give to feel her seething anger, the proof of life in blood that boils.

Your dreams are a canopy, suspending you in time. Death cannot reach you there. It is perfect, and every time you wake, the anguish of truth crushes you so completely you do not think you will ever breathe again. You crumble beneath the weight of it.

You cannot keep going. Everything has changed.

***

He is curled against your back, close as a second skin. His arm drapes around you, his hand resting against your chest. You can smell the salt of sea air on Gale’s teaching robes, the bittersweet scent of his musk. It has become a routine, for Gale to bound up the stairs on return home from his lectures, sliding silently into the bed behind you, as though he never left your side.

“Jaheira sent word.” His breath caresses the shell of your ear. “She’s arriving a bit earlier than originally planned. She would like to spend that time with you.”

You say nothing. You can sense his movement. He is trying to catch a glimpse of your face, to parse the signals of your turmoil. You know you should feel gratitude at his love and patience, guilt at your withdrawal, your failure as a wife, friend, and Harper. But all you feel is a gaping chasm where Charis used to be.

“Tav.” His voice is impossibly soft. “I know it’s agony, unimaginable agony.” His hand reaches for yours. “But you’re not alone. I’m here for you, all of our friends are here for you, and we love you. I love you.”

For a long time, you cannot speak. You are collapsing into yourself, drowning in memories. When you answer, your voice is strangled and hoarse. The sound of decay.

“She was my mirror.”

Gale is quiet for a while. A tear rolls down your cheek, into the space between your intertwined fingers, braced against your heart.

“What do you mean, my love?”

You close your eyes. It hurts to speak of her. Every word is an admission of her absence, an ache that swallows you whole.

“She told me when I had food on my face,” you begin. “I wiped the mud off hers. She showed me when I was being an asshole. I made her keep her promises. I took care of her, and she kept me going. She told me I was her hero. I never got to tell her she was mine.”

You are haunted by all the things you should have said and done, broken links in the chain of possibilities. You had always thought there would be time. Why had you taken it for granted, as though every moment with her was infinite? You should have cherished them like pearls of dew in a desert. Now, you have nothing left.

“She’s gone, Gale. Who am I without her?”

You cannot see his face, but you can feel the resolve in his frame. He holds you against him, as though he can shield you from the storm.

“You’re who you’ve always been. Kind, brave, passionate. The warrior who saved the world. A soul that puts the stars to shame. The woman I love.”

He speaks with such certainty. You do not think you will ever be sure of anything again.

“I don't know how to be, without her.”

You can feel his heartbeat against your back. Its rhythm is constant and true.

“She'll always be a part of you, Tav. You carry her within you. Nothing can take that away.”

Something wrenches inside you. You are overcome by all of your doubts, all the questions that strip you bare. You cannot hold them back any longer.

“I should have insisted,” you choke. “When we asked her to move in with us, I shouldn’t have taken no for an answer. I could have kept a closer eye on her, then. I could have vetted her last mission with my contacts. They would have known that orphanage was falling apart. I could have warned her, stopped her, saved her…”

Gale is shaking his head, first slowly, then more and more insistently. His denial wracks your entire body, but you do not stop.

“My whole life, I’ve tried to protect her. To take the blows meant for her. She had so many years ahead of her. I should be dead, not her.”

Gale flinches. His hands are urgent, almost forceful, as he turns your body to face him.

“That’s not true. Please don't say that.”

You wince as he cups your tear-streaked cheeks, holding your gaze with brown fire. His chest heaves, and you feel his distress like a dagger, twisting with the knowledge that you are the source of his pain.

“Charis loved you fiercely. Furiously. She wanted nothing but the best for you. She wouldn’t want this for you. For you to be torn apart by guilt and regret over a tragedy no one could have prevented. To think it was in any way, shape or form your fault.��

His voice trembles, his eyes a stormy sea.

“No, Tav. She would want you to live. She wanted you to be happy.”

You want to cling to the thought, to the hope that Charis had. Her passion for life, her love for you. But sorrow comes like an avalanche, and you are buried in it. You are gasping, keening, weeping into his chest. You are a mangled mass of memories that hurts but never heals.

But he remains.

“There’s nothing you could have done to change things,” he whispers. “You’ve done nothing wrong. None of this is your fault.”

He presses you so tightly against him, you feel his breaths as your own. He kisses the crown of your head over and over again, his very own warding spell.

“I love you,” he says. “I'm here.”

***

You are standing in the kitchen, watching Gale stirring a simmering pot of Hundur sauce. He bobs his head enthusiastically as he relays the latest news from Kriv and Poppy. A strand of grey hair falls over his eyes, and you lean forward to tuck it away. He kisses your palm as you draw back.

You had stayed home when Gale ventured to the Yawning Portal last night. You had intended to go through some reports from recent Harper patrols, but you did not get far. Instead, you sat on the balcony with a glass of wine, staring at the stars. Thinking but not thinking. Feeling but not feeling.

When Gale returned much earlier than usual, you did not chide him. It had been an effort to convince him to go in the first place, to enjoy the company of his friends without fretting after you. You could still see the concern in his eyes when he joined you on the balcony, peppering your face with tiny kisses, as though he had not seen you for years.

You had kissed him properly for the first time in weeks, open mouthed and inviting. You could feel his yearning, raw and swollen, a surging flame dampened by worry. You reassured him that it was what you wanted, you were ready, it was alright. You had made love, wreathed in the haze of the stars - desperate and starving, throbbing with longing. And afterwards, you wept. You were relieved, so relieved, that you could still feel desire. That you were still capable of showing him your love. That having Gale inside you was still the closest you had ever come to feeling complete.

“I don’t have the heart to tell Kriv to cut his losses with Jaheira,” Gale goes on. “Though my esteemed colleague probably has that task well in hand. Better to leave such things to the experts.”

You chuckle. “Kriv doesn’t listen to Poppy though.”

“No.” Gale titters. “He doesn’t. I’m not sure how much he knows about Khalid, either.”

Gale’s brow flickers as he searches the kitchen counter. Instinctively, you pass him the pepper.

“He’s a bard,” you point out. “He’s read all the legends. And he’s done a ton of special research on Jaheira.”

“Ah.” Gale hums, his fingers a flurry of seasoning. “Then he must be an optimist as well as a hopeless romantic. To hear Jaheira speak of Khalid… She’s still married to him in spirit, and I think she always will be. New love can’t blossom in a field already full.”

You are quiet for a moment. Gale bustles around, squinting and frowning as he tastes his creation. You cannot help but smile at the intensity of his focus, his pride in everyday miracles.

“Khalid was a good man,” you say. “Compassionate and kind.”

You step forward, pressing yourself against Gale’s back, wrapping your arms around him. A sigh escapes him, a huff of busy contentment.

“He loved her,” you continue. “I think he would want her to be happy.”

Gale stops stirring. Slowly, he turns to face you. His smile is sunlight on thawing snow. He presses his forehead against yours, his arms circling your waist.

“I think he would, too.”

***

You are grizzling and grinning as you pour Gale’s sauce into jars, ready to be stored in the larder. The sauce was a mere moment away from being ruined, Gale mock-complains, because you drove him to distraction yet again. Thank the gods, he declares, for his discipline and self-control.

You are developing an appetite, in more ways than one. You suspect that the flush on Gale’s cheeks is not just from the heat of the hearth. You are dividing up the last of the sauce as briskly as you can when an afterthought comes to you.

“We need to keep a few jars aside for when Charis comes,” you exclaim. “She loves this stuff. She asked if she could take some away with her the last time she-”

Your throat closes. You cannot breathe. There is a roiling inside you as the bridges you have started to rebuild crumble to dust. You are dust and ruins, and she is gone. Never again will she savour your food or drink, or sit with you and Gale trading jests and barbs. Never again will you ruffle her hair and cuddle her close, a grown woman, formidable and fearless, but still your baby sister. Always your baby sister.

You break.

In an instant, Gale is by your side. As you fall apart, he gathers up the pieces, returning them gently to the palm of your hand. You look at him through black waves and splintered glass. His brow is steepled with sorrow, but he shines with the hope of love.

He cradles your head against his heart.

“It’s alright,” he says. “We’ll enjoy it for her.”

 ****

You are sitting together on the balcony. Within the coral sky, purple bruises turn to gold, as the sun takes its weary dive into the sea. Three boxes of Charis’ belongings rest at your feet, waiting and expectant.

It is difficult at first. Each item aches more than the last. The scent of vanilla and smoke clings to all of Charis’ clothes, assailing you with a longing that has no equal. There are things you never knew Charis kept, like the one-eyed teddy you found for her when you were ten, and the book of lewd drawings you doodled together when your uncle sent you to bed. There is the silver locket you gave her on her twentieth birthday, polished and still kept in its plush box - “too expensive to wear”, Charis used to say -and the green ribbon you used to wear in your hair, when it was longer and less unruly. 

Gale listens as you unravel the mystery of every priceless treasure. You are sobbing one moment, chortling the next, and then you sit in silence, holding one of Charis’ scarves against your face, as though you are embracing her one last time.

“It was an honour to have known her,” Gale says after a while.

You realise that he, too, is crying. You plant feather-soft kisses beneath his eyes, and when your lips meet, you can taste the tears on his tongue. His arm drapes around your waist as you lean your head on his shoulder, watching the seagulls soaring overhead. Surrounded by these last traces of her, there is pain, but there is also a kind of peace.

“For a while, it hurt to remember,” you start. “It tore me apart. I wanted so badly to forget. I wanted to forget everything.”

An image of Charis blazes in your mind. You let yourself linger on every line and curve of it. Her toothy grin. The messy dance of freckles across her nose. The white down around her hairline. A face like no other.

“Now, I want to remember. I don't want to forget anything. I want to remember it all.”

Your gaze drifts over each and every wonder that Charis cherished, the remnants of a life well-lived. A life containing multitudes, far more than three boxes of scattered possessions, more than a clumsy jumble of tales.

“So many moments in a life. So many memories.” You look down at your balled fists. “I’m losing them already. I don't want to forget.”

As your voice catches, Gale’s fingers find yours. Your anchor, constant through the storm.

“Then I'll help you remember.”

You frown at him, questioning.

“Tell me.” He smiles, his eyes warm as sun-kissed oak. “Tell me everything.”

So you do. You start at the beginning. With your hand in his, you leap through the chapters of your history, the thread of Charis’ life woven into yours like a braid. As the cloak of night falls over you, then dissolves to the birth of dawn, you laugh and cry and rage. You remember your sister in all her glory, the rough and the smooth, every feat and foible. Every memory you share is a stitch in your broken heart. Gale listens, eyes streaming, lips curling, chuckling and seething, as though he feels every memory as vividly as his own.

And when you gaze into the sunrise, you know there is no ending. In Gale’s embrace, you burn with a love stronger than death.

“I won't forget,” you promise her. “I won't forget to remember.”

*****

Liked this fic? Check out my other work.

[candyskiez]

usually I hate possession plots but god,I love the possessed hunter plot. because it's just so painfully resonant as an abuse victim. especially to anyone who's been abused by bigots.

like. this outside force you once loved, you spent so much of your time trying to please, so much of your time begging for the approval of, isolates you. they cause you to grow paranoid and angry, snapping at people and pushing you away from your support system. makes you seem crazy to your loved ones, making them doubt your mental health and making you question your sense of reality because you can't tell what's real or not anymore (gaslighting, baby!) you're cut off and overwhelmed. you get put in situations where you're forced to do things you don't want to, you're in so much pain, you're being treated like something with no wants or thoughts of their own. you're stripped of your autonomy. you're belittled for what you wanted and told THIS is how you're supposed to be, and you're so miserable. you're pitted against your loved ones. your abuser tries to make all your loved ones hate you so you come back to them, so they don't lose you. and belos being a horrifically realistic portrayal of an IRL abuser makes this so much worse. he craves Caleb's attention and tries to force hunter to fill that void. nevermind HES the one who robbed himself of caleb in his life by killing him. he tries to make hunter his shoulder to cry on, his therapist, his punching bag, his doctor. uses him to look at himself and go "see! look how good I'm doing! my family is back and he finally loves me again!" , he is obsessive and horrible and cruel and so horrifically realistic. he strips hunter of his autonomy, and in the shit that will start sounding familiar to people who grew up in bigoted families:

forced him out of what made him most comfortable. literally grew out his hair against his will, treated how he'd changed his body and wardrobe to make himself more comfortable as something that tainted him.

also just. holy shit the violating him like that. just the fucking undertones. it's fucking horrific.

and that's why him fighting back is so huge. because he has the strength to say, no. fuck you, no. this is my goddamn body. this is my goddamn life. he takes all these things he LOVED. he loved, that belos had taught him he was sinful and a horrible person for not despising (hm, allegories) and says, fuck you, I WANT this. I want this, I love this, you tried to teach me to hate it but I don't. I love it. I love it, and you didn't break me. I want to leave the coven, I want to leave you. you hurt me, and I said sorry. you used me, and I said sorry. I am done being sorry. I am done feeling bad. I want this life you're trying to take from me. I want to go to the boiling isles and I want to have a life there, in that world you hate so much. I want to go to the boiling isles and be sinful and disgusting and everything you hate and I will love it. I will be happy. I will be free and everything you hate. and I miss when I thought I could please you, because it was simple. but I am happier as a heretic and as a sinner, and you can't change me. I tried to change myself for you, I just ended up miserable. you can't make me something I'm not. I tried. and I am done trying. I am hunter. fuck you, my name is hunter. my name is hunter, and you hurt people. it doesn't matter if you were trying to help me. you hurt me. and I am done, and I am leaving, and most of all I will never let you hurt anyone else like you hurt me.

and he fucking got it, man. he fucking got it. he went through HELL and he still came back swinging. the death feels symbolic to me almost? losing a part of you in traumatic events and you have to live without that part. and you got out but you lost pieces of you in the process, and that stays with you.

but he keeps going. he kept fucking going man and THAT is fucking amazing to me. he kept going. ohhh my god. I wish I had this when I was 13. hunter isn't as massive of a hyperfixation for me anymore by a long shot, but goddamn. I love this dude. I LOVED the possession scene so fucking much and it will always resonate with me so, so hard.

[dolliethv]

All Of The Girls You Loved Before.

summary: English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes I'm sorry!! I was thinking while listening to "All of the Girls You Loved Before" by Taylor Swift and decided to make a little story inspired by the lyrics...

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem reader!!

Word count: about 2,1k

You are a fashion design and production student, sitting on the floor in front of your work table, adjusting the final details of a jacket inspired by the colors of the city where you and Jude were now living for work—Madrid. It was just another night, one of many you had spent in your new home, surrounded by fabrics, sketches, and the dim light of an old lamp that matched your overflowing creativity. Jude, your boyfriend, would be arriving after a tiring training session with Real Madrid.

The door opened softly, and Jude appeared with a smile that lit up the entire room. “Hey, baby,” he whispered, collapsing onto the couch with exhaustion written all over his face. You smiled. You loved the way he called you “baby,” as if it was more than just a word, a small refuge in the middle of your hectic lives.

He moved closer and sat beside you. You ran a hand through his damp hair. “How was training?” you asked.

Jude nodded, his eyes scanning the sketches scattered on the table. “Yeah, just exhausting, you know. But seeing you is the best part of my day.”

You rested your head on his shoulder and sighed, recalling all those nights when he would tell you stories of his past. You knew that things hadn’t always been easy for Jude. He had gone through failed relationships, disappointments, and abrupt goodbyes. Sometimes, he would share how he stayed up late arguing on the phone, conversations ending in awkward silences.

Jude had faced criticism and pressure from a young age, not just in football. He remembered moments in Birmingham, when coaches pushed him to his limits and expectations felt like an impossible weight to bear. He had dealt with the disappointment of sitting on the bench when he was eager to prove his worth and with the hurtful comments on social media whenever his performance wasn’t perfect.

There were also times in Dortmund, far from his family and everything he knew, feeling lonely in a foreign city. The tough matches, where his mistakes haunted him for weeks, constant media criticism, and the feeling of not being enough had made him doubt himself more than once. “I remember when I got injured just before one of the most important matches of the season. I sat in the stands, watching my teammates fight while all I could think about was what I could have done differently. It was one of the worst feelings I’ve ever had,” Jude once confessed.

“Those moments made you strong, Jude,” you said, remembering how he had shared his journey of overcoming, learning to accept his failures as part of his path. “All of that taught you to value what you have, to never give up.”

Jude smiled wistfully. “It wasn’t easy, and sometimes I felt like I couldn’t go on. But when I finally played that crucial match, and we did well, all the effort, all those tears, were worth it. They made me see that even in the darkest moments, there’s something worth fighting for.”

You looked at him tenderly. “The way you call me ‘baby’… it makes me feel like all of it was worth it,” you said, gazing into his eyes. There was a strength and sweetness in Jude that could only come from someone who had known adversity and decided to be better, not in spite of you, but because of you.

Jude looked at you with gratitude and stroked your cheek. “I don’t know if it was worth it, but it brought me to you,” he replied, leaning in to kiss you softly.

You smiled against his lips and turned back to your sketches, trying to concentrate, but the lyrics of a song kept resonating in your mind. “Have you ever thought about how all those girls and all those situations made you who you are?” you asked, drawing a loose line that, like your thoughts, wasn’t going anywhere in particular.

Jude pondered for a moment, recalling those days of smudged makeup and tears in club bathrooms, the goodbyes without explanations, and the awkward beginnings. “I never thought of it that way, but… yeah, I guess all of that brought me here. And now you’re all I need,” he said, taking your free hand.

“And I’m so grateful for that,” you responded. “Every dead end, every mistake… all of it brought you to me.”

Jude smiled and pulled you into his arms. “And you’re the only one who makes it all feel worth it.”

You snuggled into his chest, letting the warmth of the moment wrap around you. You knew that, although neither of you had a perfect past, everything had been a piece of that complex puzzle that had led you to find each other. You wanted to be the one to show him what “forever” feels like.

Jude, trying to distract you from your concentration, started joking. “You know, darling? If you were a fashion design, you’d be haute couture… because no one else could pull it off like you.” You looked at him, pretending to be surprised.

“Wow, Jude! Did you read that in a cheap pick-up line book?” you teased, holding back laughter. “You could use those tricks on the field to throw off your rivals.”

Jude pretended to think for a second. “Do you think that would work? Because it doesn’t seem to have any effect on you. Although maybe I just need a little more practice… with you,” he said, raising an eyebrow provocatively.

You looked at him, trying to keep a straight face. “You? Practice? I think you’ve got more than enough natural talent,” you joked, enjoying the playful banter between you. But Jude didn’t miss the chance, and with an intense look, he added, “Well, if you want, I can show you my ‘natural talent’ up close in a more private place and...”

“Jude!” you looked at him with a mix of amusement and embarrassment. “You can’t just say things like that so casually, you know?”

“Why not? I’m dead serious,” Jude replied with a cheeky smile, getting even closer, kissing your neck affectionately and caressing your stomach.

You gently pushed him away, trying to keep control, though you couldn’t help but laugh. “You know you’re a gentleman most of the time, but sometimes you go overboard.”

Jude pretended to be offended. “It’s ‘natural talent,’ baby. Besides, I’m just trying to be charming,” he said, striking an exaggeratedly elegant pose as if he were in a Louis Vuitton photoshoot or something.

“Well, at least you’re a good actor,” you responded, laughing. “But I’ll stick with the footballer.”

You cherished those light-hearted moments with Jude; it was one of the many reasons you adored him. But what you loved most about him was his chivalry, something that never ceased to amaze you. From day one, Jude had always treated you like a lady; he’d open the car door, hold your hand when crossing the street, and always made sure you felt protected and appreciated.

“Do you know what I love most about you?” you began, resting your head on his shoulder and smiling sweetly. “How much of a gentleman you are. You always treat me like a lady,” you said, squeezing his cheeks playfully. “That’s what I love most about you.”

Jude looked at you with a playful smile. “Well, what did you expect? You’re my princess. I’ve got to live up to that.”

You laughed, giving him a gentle tap on the arm. “How cutie! Who would have thought, a Real Madrid player who’s so dominant with an impressive aura in every match is a total sassy with his girlfriend.”

Jude shrugged and hugged you tighter. “You know I’d do anything for you, even be cheesier if it makes you happy.”

“That’s why I love you,” you said, kissing his cheek. “All of the girls you loved before, made you the one I've fallen for”

“And all the experiences you had made you the woman I love today,” Jude responded, kissing you with a softness that spoke of promises, of a future together, and of everything you both had to go through to reach this point.

The two of you stayed in silence, savoring the simple beauty of being together, knowing that every step you had taken in your lives, good and bad, had led you to this precise moment, in this little corner of the world where everything fit.

Because, in the end, every mistake, every lost love, and every broken dream had been a necessary part of the journey that had brought you here, one in the arms of the other, loving each other more than you ever could have imagined.

"I'm so thankful for all of the girls you loved before, but I love you more..."

[sincerelyamee]

Your Life As A Tokyo Jujutsu High Background Student

| Megumi x Reader | Reader's third year & Gender-neutral |

You had not known Fushiguro Megumi for very long, perhaps a few months at best, but you had already grown fond of the boy. That little sea urchin, with his aloof glare and standoffish body language, was always so irritated with the world. 

He definitely didn’t seem to like you much in the beginning… if he liked anyone at all. He had that palpable “leave me alone” vibe - spiky hair hiding his face, arms habitually crossed in an invisible barrier, one-word answers to attempts at small talk. Anyone else would have taken the hint after a few rebuffs and kept their distance. But not you. 

There was a wariness there, a carefully contained fragility that resonated with your own. You recognized that cold glare all too well, having worn it like armor yourself once upon a time, before Gojo had broken through your walls with his irritating persistence and arrogant cheerfulness.

You knew—beneath the hostile exterior, Megumi was just a boy thrown alone into the cruel world of jujutsu, trying desperately to survive. You could relate all too painfully. So you persisted. Offering your quiet presence like a comforting blanket, you'd hover at the edges of Megumi's personal bubble, reading, snacking, giving him the wide berth he clearly craved. Never demanding attention. During meal time, you would add an extra pudding cup to your tray, then silently offload it into Megumi’s as you plopped down next to him, talking lightly about Gojo’s recent antics as you ate.  In the library, you'd claim the seat beside him, the two of you reading in a comfortable silence broken only by the occasional turn of a page. Now and then you simply occupied nearby space, tapping idly at your phone screen whenever he sought out an empty corner to avoid company. 

Then one day between training sessions he fell into step beside you, wordlessly holding out an ice-cold bottle of mint chocolate milk. Your favorite. From that small olive branch on, a new ease settled into your interactions. His rejection of the pudding cups turned into acceptance turned into quietly waiting for them every day. Rolling eyes at your appearance in the library softened into furtive peeks over book spines to see if you’d come to keep him company. He held himself stiffly at first when you claimed the armchair adjacent to his in the common room, but soon began leaning into your idle chatter on curse techniques.

Most times the two of you spent together were still in silence rather than actual conversation. But the quietness somehow felt warmer now, more intimate than isolating. And every so often, when he thought you weren’t paying attention, you’d notice the flicker of a barely-there smile softening Megumi’s face at something you’d said. In those moments, you felt a fierce affection and protectiveness swell brightly in your chest...

You are a third year student at Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School.

You are Gojo’s most spoiled third year. Not that he has many options, since your classmates have all been suspended.

You are Nanami’s most favorite jujutsu sorcerer thanks to your mutual distaste of the jujutsu world and burning desire for early retirement.

You are Shoko’s most beloved unofficial assistant who does all her paperwork. Don’t let Principal Yaga hear about that though.

You are the first years’ most adored senpai, because Gojo has the audacity to dump most if not all of his teaching responsibilities on you.

But most importantly, you are a background character. Sometimes, they bring you along. Sometimes, you do your own things in the background while watching them doing important, heroic things.

You are no protagonist. You are just here for the ride.

[btsqualityy]

BTS Dating Series #14: First Time You See Him Perform

Members x Reader

Genre/Rate: 18+, fluff

Summary: Your first time seeing your boyfriend do what he does the best.

Warnings: None to note.

Kim Seokjin

“You sit here, Jagi,” Jin murmured as he led you over to a chair that was set up on the side of the Music Bank stage and waited until you had sat down on it before he squatted down in front of you. “You sure you’re gonna be ok here?”

“Jin, stop worrying,” you giggled as you reached out and mushed his cheeks, laughing harder when he spluttered and shook his head back and forth rapidly. “I’m the one that wanted to come and watch your music show taping, remember?”

“I know but the day can get kind of long sometimes so I just wanted to be sure,” he explained.

“I’m good, promise,” you assured him before leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Go do your thing.”

“Alright,” Jin nodded before standing up straight and walking over to join the other members as they made their way on stage. Once they were in their places, “Just One Day” began to play and you smiled as they began to sing. You found yourself bopping your head along to the beat and mouthing the fanchant along with the ARMYs in the crowd.

Once Jin’s part came in the bridge, you couldn’t help but to giggle as Jin held out the rose and winked towards the camera. Throughout your relationship with Jin, it often felt like he loved to torture you by being the most charismatic man on Earth but watching him on stage, you realized that he only felt comfortable enough to show off in front of ARMYs, his members, and now you as well. That thought made you smile to yourself and before you knew it, the song had ended and the members thanked the ARMYs that came to watch before filing off stage.

“What did you think?” Jin asked after making his way over to you.

“Perfect,” you praised him. “Absolutely perfect.”

Min Yoongi

“He didn’t tell me that they were doing this song,” you muttered to yourself from your spot standing backstage when the beginning of your favorite song, Tomorrow, started to play. The group was in Tokyo, performing at the Dome stadium and you were more than happy to come along with Yoongi when he invited you to come watch. 

When it got to Yoongi’s rapping part, you found yourself falling silent as he began to recite the lyrics. The song always resonated with you, the reality of “adulting” having hit you hard once you got into your 20s. You appreciated how honest Yoongi and the rest of the members were about what it was like being a young adult attempting to figure out your spaces in life, which is why Tomorrow had easily become one of their favorite songs of yours. 

“Like breaker,” you shouted out the lyrics, bobbing your head along as the performance went off without a hitch. Once they finished, it was time for a costume change and just as he had with the previous two costume changes, Yoongi spent his talking to you. 

“You didn’t tell me Tomorrow was on the set list,” you mentioned and Yoongi shrugged with a smug smile on his face.

“Didn’t feel the need to,” he replied and you just rolled your eyes playfully before leaning over and pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“Thanks,” you said, already having a good hunch that he had purposefully included the song for just you.

“You’re welcome,” Yoongi smiled softly. 

Kim Namjoon

“ARMYs, how you feeling out there?!” Namjoon shouted into the microphone, receiving a wave of almost deafening screams in response. The group was on tour and were currently stopped in London, where the show had been going perfectly. You were standing backstage, watching with a large smile as your boyfriend commanded the stage for his solo song. 

“As many of you know, this is the part where I do my solo song Trivia: Love,” Namjoon began. “And I thought I’d give you guys a little background on the song. I always thought of myself as a person who would have a hard time giving and receiving love in a romantic relationship but that all changed about seven months ago. I met someone and she’s here tonight.” The crowd cheered loudly and you felt your cheeks heat up from being put on the spot. 

“I’m not entirely sure where she is right now because I haven’t seen her since before the concert started,” Namjoon chuckled. “But Y/N-ah, you’ve given me a love that I thought was only possible in books and movies. You’ve changed me for the better and I feel so lucky to have you in my life. This song is for you, literally and metaphorically. Here’s Trivia: Love!”

Throughout the whole song, you couldn’t keep the smile off your face as the lyrics Namjoon had written took on a whole new meaning for you. By the time Namjoon had come backstage to change after his solo and the next medley with the rest of the members, you were a teary eyed mess. 

“Was that ok?” Namjoon asked as he cupped your face in his hands. “I know I didn’t talk to you before hand but it just felt right in the moment and I-”

“Joon, it was absolutely perfect,” you assured him, nodding your head up and down rapidly. “And I love you too.” 

Jung Hoseok

“You sure you’ll be ok out here in the crowd by yourself?” Hobi wondered and you nodded your head. The two of you were at the All Force One festival, where Hobi and Yoongi were getting ready to join Namjoon on stage as his special guests. 

“Stop worrying Mom, I’m good,” you teased, making him roll his eyes. 

“Sue me for being concerned about you,” he grumbled. “If you need to take a breather though, our manager is right by the stage. I already asked him to look out for you.”

“I will, I promise,” you nodded. “Now, go.” After pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, Hobi disappeared into the crowd and you passed the time of the intermission by sipping on your drink. Namjoon came back on stage and after talking a little bit, Cypher pt. 2 started and Hobi and Yoongi came out on stage. The crowd went wild and you had to admit, you were a little taken aback by how excited everyone was. You and Hobi had known each other for almost two years by this point and had been dating for around six months, but this was the first time you saw Hobi in his element. 

He was so confident, even though he hadn’t been rapping as long as Namjoon and Yoongi had, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Not that you were trying though, because he was fantastic. 

Once the show ended, you pushed your way through the crowd and ended up making your way backstage where Hobi was talking to Namjoon and Yoongi. 

“You did so good!” You squealed as you bounded over and hugged him tightly. 

“I guess your first show surpassed your expectations then, huh?” Hobi chuckled. 

“You have no idea,” you smiled. 

Park Jimin

You wrapped your arms around yourself, attempting (and failing) to stay warm in the cold December air in New York. You were in the heart of Times’ Square on New Years’ Eve, waiting to watch Bangtan perform for a New Years’ Eve special.

“You doing ok, baby?” Jimin checked with you and you nodded your head even though you could feel your toes getting cold. 

“I’m good. Excited to finally see you perform live,” you smiled. 

“I’ll try to do well for you,” Jimin told you before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. Just then, one of the managers called out to him so Jimin walked over to join the group and you bounced in place to try to get your blood flowing.

“Now, here with their songs ‘Make It Right’ and their smash hit single ‘Boy With Luv’, here’s BTS!” Ryan Seacrest announced and the crowd went wild as Bangtan stepped onto the stage. After doing a little snippet of Make It Right, they quickly moved into Boy With Luv and you found yourself automatically singing along to the words. Jimin was doing an amazing job, the dance moves flowing effortlessly through his body as he sung beautifully. 

Towards the last chorus, Jimin moved into his position in the center but somehow, his jacket that he was wearing ended up getting stuck on top of his head. Instead of panicking, he went with it, making funny faces at his members which caused them to laugh as well. He ended up fixing it and the song ended, to thunderous applause from the ARMYs in the crowd. 

“You did so good!” You praised as you met Jimin as he walked off stage and he just sighed heavily.

“I messed up with my jacket,” he pouted. 

“Hey, you still sounded great,” you assured him. “And it was so freaking cute.”

“You think?”

“Absolutely,” you stated firmly, making him smile before he kissed you passionately. 

Kim Taehyung

You stood behind the large camera that was placed on the television set, watching with a smile as Bangtan performed their latest title track for a London-based television show. Taehyung had invited you along to watch and you couldn’t help but to be in awe of how grand the production was. 

You hadn’t really seen Taehyung perform with the full group before and now that you were, you couldn’t help but to kick yourself for dragging your feet on it so long. Taehyung was amazing, his movements subtle and strong and that gorgeous, velvet voice of his had you in an almost trance-like state. 

“And let’s give it up for BTS!” The host said once the song ended and you clapped as softly as you could (since you were right behind the camera) as the members took a bow. After the light that showed the camera was rolling went off, the group stepped down off of the stage and began to make their way backstage. Taehyung instantly paced over to you, wrapping his arm around your waist as the two of you started to walk together. 

“You did amazing Tae,” you gushed. “I was literally in shock and awe.”

“Really?” Taehyung chuckled. “You can tell me the truth, you know? You don’t have to flatter me.”

“I wouldn’t lie,” you giggled. “Honestly, I loved it.”

“Well, I love you and I think that’s more important,” he cooed, leaning over and brushing his nose against the side of your head.

“You’re gross,” you huffed, even though your heart warmed from his words. 

Jeon Jungkook

“You ready for this?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Jungkook,” you laughed. “I’m just going to watch the show from backstage. You’re acting like I’m the one about to perform for thousands of people and not you.”

“Hey, I just wanna make sure you’re ready for all the talent you’re about to see up there,” Jungkook smirked, making you roll your eyes playfully. You were on tour with Bangtan and this show in Berlin was going to be the first time you saw Jungkook live on stage. 

“You just worry about getting up there and doing good,” you told him as you cupped his face before pressing a firm kiss to his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded before kissing you again. Just then, the members got the notice that it was almost time for them to go up on stage so after a third and final kiss, Jungkook pulled away from you and went to get into his position. You moved over to watch the show from a screen and you saw the lights on the stage come on after the end of the VCR. 

The music came on and the stage began to lift into the air, the sounds of the cheering from ARMYs almost becoming deafening. Once the stage lifted, Jungkook opened his mouth and began to sing the first lines of the song. You mouth dropped open slightly as you literally watched him transform from the boyfriend you saw all the time in your apartment to the Golden Maknae. 

“Holy shit,” you gasped, a smile spreading onto your face as you watched him come alive. 

..............................................................

Tag List:  @addictedtohobi @brittneymccray @cursedcursives @arata18nanami @leftieaquarius @devilsbooksworld @starmyy @werewolfbanshee-love @li-moonchild-il @kpop-servant @cheysjimin

[lurkingshan]

Breaking Down the I Feel You Linger in the Air Finale

Okay pals, I got some sleep and I'm ready to dig into this finale and all its beautiful messiness. I love this show and I'm frankly a little frustrated that we got such an incomplete resolution to the (hopefully) first season when there was ample time to do it right. As ever, pacing and time and information management continue to be major weaknesses for Tee Bundit. As I said last week, the writing for this show has been undeniably messy but it's still holding together on the strength of the production and the performances and the success of some of its big themes and character arcs; that take held firm through the finale and some of the baffling choices made about where to spend our time in this final installment. So, let's dig into it!

The Long Goodbye

I'll say upfront that this is my biggest beef with the pacing of the finale. We spent all of last week on a long and painful goodbye for Yai and Jom, perfectly executed, but for some reason we did another 45 minutes of it this week, not so perfectly executed. While I loved the covering of the mirrors, the saddest sex scene ever (complete with sex moans running as the audio over a memory montage how dare you show!), and the pain of Yai realizing he drew the final picture and watching Jom disappear, we didn't need to retread them saying goodbye to each other over and over again for two entire hours of story time, and we didn't need a long, sappy, on the nose speech from Jom saying things we already knew. As I told @neuroticbookworm, this might be my aro showing but I found the series of repetitive emotional goodbye conversations and memory montages exhausting and not in a good way. If I were the script doctor, I would have kept the mirrors, sad sex, and Yai drawing as the start of the episode and cut the rest, moving much more quickly into the next phase of the story.

Back to the Future

Jom returning to his present day life, trying to cope with his anguish and loneliness and adjust back into things, and further investigating the time travel mystery to figure out a way to reconnect with Yai should have been the main narrative of this episode. Instead, we got a truncated version of it that didn't have time to breath because we'd used up so much time on the above mentioned retread. For my money, Jom's devastation upon finding Yai's letter to him was the most emotionally resonant moment of the finale and the first part of the episode where I almost cried. But we had barely sunk into that feeling before it was abruptly cut short because we were out of time and Tee needed to wrap this baby up.

Eyebrow Scar Yai

Here’s where I get actually kind of peeved, because this final (pre-credits) scene was so poorly set up and executed that to even call it a resolution is a stretch. A modern version of Yai walks into the room, asks Jom why he's crying, tells him he's been waiting for him, kisses him, and then the credits roll!

Now I've been in the tags so I know this caused confusion for anyone who has not read the novel (me too, fam!). And that's because the show had not bothered to establish:

That Yai does in fact have a modern doppelgänger

Who the heck that doppelgänger is and how he’s connected to 1928 Yai

How that doppelgänger would be able to remember Jom when no other doppelgängers in the story can remember their past lives

Based on what we know, could we piece together a reasonable theory about who this man is, how he got there, and the final pieces of the mythology that make sense of it? Sure. In fact, bookworm and I pretty much guessed exactly what the explanation for this was after watching the show, and many of the elements at play here were theorized in conversations we had last week. Book readers like @tipsyjaehyun have now confirmed the full explanation for anyone who cares to go read it.

But the show did not tell us any of this information. If you have to read the novel or have novel readers spoil you on aspects of the story that the show didn't bother to cover in order to understand the ending of the story, the execution has failed. And given the pacing notes above, there is really no reason we couldn't have gotten a better set up for this ending with Eyebrow Scar Yai (yes I know his name but no I'm not using it because the show didn't bother telling me; I am petty like that). Jom could have found this descendant during his time of processing and the ending could have hinged on us realizing this modern Yai is a reincarnation who has his past life memories intact; had we gone into a final kiss between them feeling grounded in all of that knowledge, it would have landed so much better.

Hello Commander

And now on to the post-credits scene, where Tee puts a plea into the universe to give him a second season so he can play around in another time period and explore what is evidently the origin of this soul tie between Jom and Yai. I chose to read this episode tag as separate from the actual season 1 narrative, and I think that was the intention given its placement. If they secure funding for a second season, this tag scene becomes the beginning of that next story, with Eyebrow Scar Yai's kiss sending Jom into another time travel adventure. If they don't we can just ignore it and pretend the pre-credits scene was the end (which is why I'm not happy it was so poorly done). I, for one, would love to see a second season to explore another time period and give Tee a chance to clean up some of this mess he has made of the mythology and season 1 resolution. Shouts to @clairedaring for reporting back from the live showing of the finale on what the possibilities are looking like there. Fingers crossed we get a continuation of this story some day!

Tagging in @waitmyturtles and @twig-tea who also have linked posts above. And shouts to @blmpff @cankersoregirl @pharawee @wanderlust-in-my-soul @italianpersonwithashippersheart @bengiyo @dragonsareawesome123 @wen-kexing-apologist @junghaesin @stuffnonsenseandotherthings @slayerkitty @respectthepetty @chickenstrangers @sunshinechay @btwinlines for posting about this show every week and making it such a fun watch despite having a small audience on here. It was a pleasure watching this with you all!

[insomniac4000]

I have an idea for a fic about will! So u get invited onto the fellas or saving graces podcast and since their in the same building where will films his videos you could like bump into him and just something along those lines aha

Fellas to lovers

1517 words

Y/N felt the nerves build up with each step she took walking down the East London Street, eventually she made it and looked up at the light brick building with big windows; The Fellas Studio’s where inside were some of her favourite Youtubers and content creators. For months and years y/n had watched these people form the comfort of her own home but now, she was considered their contemporary but she had a huge case of imposter syndrome.

“Hi, I’m Y/N I’m here for The Fella’s podcast?” She said to the receptionist politely. The receptionist gave her a pass and sent her up on her way. Cal and Chip were waiting, just talking casually on the chairs when they heard footsteps on the stars and a very nervous y/n entered the room. The boys were lovely, they spent a few minutes trying to ease nerves and ran over some questions before the recording was about to start. Y/N clutched the microphone, steadying the slight shake of the hand just as Calum announced recording.

"Welcome back to The Fellas Podcast, the place where we get the most interesting people on the internet to sit down and chat. Today, we're excited to have someone who’s not just interesting but downright viral. She’s been breaking the internet with her hilarious skits, relatable content, and just that magnetic personality. Please welcome TikTok sensation, Y/N!" Freezy did the intro and y/n smiled through the nerves as much as she could.

"Thank you so much for having me, guys! I’m a huge fan of the podcast, so this is a bit surreal for me."

 "We’re excited to have you here too! First off, how does it feel to be the queen of TikTok right now? I mean, your rise has been insane—millions of followers in such a short time." Cal started off with an easy question to try and ease y/n in as much as he could.

"Honestly, it still doesn’t feel real. Sometimes I wake up and have to remind myself that this is actually happening. It all happened so quickly, you know? I started posting just for fun, and suddenly it’s like—boom—everyone’s watching."

"Let’s talk about that ‘boom’ moment. Was there a specific video or a moment where you thought, ‘Okay, this is really taking off’?" Chip asked

"Yeah, there was one video that really kicked things off. It was a skit about dealing with overprotective parents, and I guess it just resonated with a lot of people. The comments were flooded with ‘This is literally me!’ and people tagging their friends. The video hit a million views in like 24 hours, and from there, things just snowballed."

"I remember that video! It was everywhere on my feed for days. What do you think it is about your content that connects with so many people?" Freezy added in, by this point y/n’s nerves had subsided massively, her body language relaxed more, she stopped playing with her long brown hair as much and she allowed to self to sink back on the sofa a little bit more.

"I think a lot of it is just about being relatable. I try to tap into those everyday moments that everyone experiences but maybe doesn’t talk about openly. Whether it’s dealing with awkward social situations, struggling with mental health, or just the weird quirks we all have—if I find it funny or interesting, chances are someone else will too."

"And you’re not afraid to get personal, either. You’ve shared a lot about your own life and struggles. Was that a conscious decision from the start?" Chip was now coming in with a more personal question, it was one of the ones they had shown y/n at the start so it didn’t come as a shock and she was ready to answer it.

"At first, not really. I was just making content that felt natural to me. But as I started getting more followers, I realized that people appreciated that openness. I think it helps people feel less alone when they see someone else going through the same things they are. It’s therapeutic in a way, for both me and my audience."

"Has that openness ever backfired? We all know the internet can be a brutal place sometimes." Cal already knew the answer to this question, it was something all content creators needed to know how to toe the line.

"Oh, for sure. I’ve had my share of trolls and negative comments. There were times when it really got to me. But over time, I’ve developed a thicker skin. You have to, in this line of work. At the end of the day, I try to focus on the positive feedback and the amazing community that’s been built around my content."

“And you definitely have at least one massive fan in this office, apart from us a certain Mr Lenney always comes in and shows us your videos,” Chip added and as him and Cal had a little laugh about it.

“No way really?” Y/n tried to laugh along and tried to seem like she was calm and just going with the flow but on the inside her heart was beating faster, Will? That beautiful blue eyed boy who’s content she had been watching for years? He liked her stuff?

“He’s also single now so feel free to drop downstairs to his office once you’ve finished here, I bet he’ll go wild! Anyway enough about the lanky Geordie idiot what does the future hold for Y/N? Are you sticking with TikTok, or do you have other plans in the works?" Chip asked, y/n was grateful that the conversation had changed now, although she was now thinking some thoughts about that Geordie male that she could never talk about in public.

"I’ll always have a love for TikTok, but I definitely want to branch out. I’m working on a YouTube channel right now, and I’ve been talking to some brands about collaborations. Maybe even a podcast—who knows? The possibilities are endless, and I’m excited to see where this journey takes me."

"That’s awesome! We’re sure whatever you do next is going to be huge. Before we wrap up, any advice for aspiring creators out there?" Cal asked as the podcast was about to wrap up.

"My biggest advice is just to be yourself. Don’t try to imitate what’s already out there. People are drawn to authenticity, so find what makes you unique and run with it. And most importantly, have fun with it, if you’re not enjoying what you’re doing, it’s not worth it."

"Wise words! Thanks so much for joining us today, Y/N. It’s been a blast having you on." Chip smiled

"Thanks for having me, guys! This was a lot of fun."

"And to all our listeners, make sure you’re following Y/N on TikTok if you aren’t already and keep an eye out for her next big move. Until next time, take care!" Cal signed off the Podcast and once the recording has stopped y/n exhaled a deep breath.

“You did really well, you should be proud of yourself,” Cal smiled giving y/n a small hug.

“Thank you so much, I’ve never done a Podcast before and I was really nervous but you two made me feel really welcome so thank you,” y/n told both of the boys sincerely. There was a little small talk but then Chip and Freezy needed to leave as they had a meeting. Y/N thanked them again and made her way downstairs, she momentarily paused remembering what The Fella’s had to say about a certain someone. She continued down the stairs, pulling out her phone ready film a TikTok when she felt her body collide with something.

“Oh my God I’m sorry,” y/n cried as she looked up and saw a male, dressed in all black, a mullet on top of his head, smile on his face and an iced coffee in his hand, it was him.

“No harm done. I didn’t expect to see you here,” his northern accent thick, as if often got when he was excited.

“Oh I’ve just filmed a Podcast for the fellas. I’m Y/N,”

“Oh I know who you are,” Will’s smile got even bigger, y/n tried to push back a blush.

“I just didn’t want you to think there’s a weird fan running around all of your offices,” y/n joked. Will sipped his coffee slightly smiling.

“No, I know who you are. Hopefully the guys were nice to you?”

“Oh they were, they erm…” y/n hesitated for a moment to think about if you wanted to say the next bit but there was a spark in her which told her to go for it. “They said you might be a bit of a fan?” y/n asked cheekily, biting her bottom lip slightly with a smile. Will sighed.

“Those fuckin’ morons. I do enjoy your TikTok’ yes.”

“It’s okay, I’ve been known to binge your videos too. And not for James,” y/n added. Will’s eyes sparkled.

“Well that’s new. Say, what are you doing now?” Will asked, his smiled dropped a little bit and he started to play around with the straw in his drink, y/n shook her head.

“Nothing really.”

“Fancy joining me for a coffee?” Will asked, trying to steady his voice, he was doing a good job of it, he looked very calm and cool. Y/N smiled, her heart beating out of her chest.

“I’d love to.”

[dlstmxkakwldrlarchive]

(article) SHINee's ONEW hopes to make people happy with his songs

Singer Onew of popular K-pop group SHINee has been deeply thinking about happiness, a theme that heavily influenced his latest release."I think it's wonderful to be someone who can have a positive impact on others and make them happy," he said during an interview Thursday with a group of reporters.

"It's a great merit that I can lift someone's mood. When people tell me they've been comforted by my songs, it feels like I'm truly living," he said.

This introspection led to the creation of his third individual EP, "Flow," a departure from his previous albums -- his first solo album, "Voice" (2018), second EP titled "Dice" (2022) and first full-length solo album, "Circle," (2023) -- which centered primarily on his distinctive voice and emotional expression.

Instead, "Flow," due out Tuesday at 6 p.m., is designed to resonate more broadly with the public, featuring songs that are easy to follow and enjoy together.The album is led by "Beat Drum," an upbeat pop track characterized by "kitsch" vocals in the chorus and a synth melody, according to promotional material from his label, Griffin Entertainment. The lyrics compare the feeling of a racing heart to the rhythm of a drum beat.

Also included are five B-side tracks, all of which maintain a bright and cheerful tone.

"I wanted to become closer to the public, so I put a lot of effort into making songs that are easy to follow," the 34-year-old explained. He also tailored the choreography to be accessible, allowing more people to catch on after just one viewing. "I hope even those who don't know me can feel a bit of positive energy," he added.

Onew stressed that while his unique voice and emotional depth will continue to be central to his music, his current focus is on expanding his positive influence.

The vocalist also has a goal of creating his own performance brand.

"I think a concert becomes richer and more enjoyable when many people can immerse themselves in it and have fun together. I want to create an atmosphere where it's not just a performance by me, but an experience where everyone can play together," he shared.

After taking a hiatus of over 10 months due to health issues, Onew returned to the stage in May.

During the break, the vocalist had the opportunity to attend a Coldplay concert in the United States.

"I loved the excitement and anticipation that I felt while waiting for the show," he said, expressing hope that audiences would experience the same thrill at his concerts.

Performing in front of fans and reuniting with his bandmates were what he missed the most as he recovered from neck surgery. He lost so much weight after the surgery, making his fans feel concerned and worried about his health.

"Now, I'm in great shape. In fact, I'm so well that it's almost a problem," he said with a laugh.

He spent a lot of time traveling to places like the U.S., Japan, and Austria during the break, giving himself the space to think deeply on his own.

"While traveling, I learned how to fail. There was a time when I tried to catch a train during a typhoon and ended up sitting on the platform for six hours. Sometimes, things just don't work out. But I realized that you can always try again later. That was the biggest lesson I learned."

After this realization, Onew changed his attitude about performing. He used to believe he couldn't go on stage unless he was 100 percent perfect, but now he's more open to taking risks.

This new attitude led him to boldly take on producing for the first time while working on this album.

"I challenged myself by getting involved in producing, selecting demo tracks, trying out different ideas, and communicating with writers to incorporate my thoughts into the songs. It was a big challenge, but it was a fun experience," he recalled.

Onew also tried his hand at rapping for the first time.

"I was debating whether to use more melody or try rapping," he said.

He thought rapping might work, so he gave it a shot, and fortunately, it turned out well.

"This new challenge has become a great motivation for me," he said.

He has also started taking guitar lessons recently because he wants to play during his concerts.

"I read somewhere that singer Lee Hyori said she started learning something new and that in 10 years, she could become an expert. So I thought, 'It's not too late. If I start now, I could be playing in 10 years too.'"

[medics-secret-shipfic-folder]

I have been reading this fic basically nonstop , I started yesterday hating Cheavy’s guts and here I am today crying about him in chapter 12

GOOD LORD WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME ☹️

YES! I'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE!

Ok all jokes aside I do want to hijack this ask to talk about something that I haven't really spoken about, and that's why I think Cheavy works so well in tbtf. It comes down to four major points that makes him sympathetic without taking away what makes Cheavy a fun character in the first place, that being his attitude and temper.

1 - Cheavy is outclassed in tbtf: In the comics, Cheavy was a threatening antagonist thanks to both his own team, his willingness to get his hands dirty, and his own underhanded fighting style. He had the upper hand for the brief period he usurped Gray Mann. But in tbtf? Cheavy is outclassed by EVERY other antagonist. The Shadow Blight, the Disciples, the DAPC, Alexander - they all outshine him in terms of their presence and how threatening they are. Cheavy is just a mercenary, the Shadow Blight and Disciples are ELDRITCH GODS. Cheavy isn't "the big bad" anymore because there's an even bigger bad to remind you what the stakes are. It's easier to sympathize with someone when there are comparatively bigger problems at hand. It's that age-old joke of "here's an incompetent villain, now here's the REAL villain to knock them down!"

2 - Cheavy is a complete wackadoodle in tbtf: Cheavy's attitude and temper are his most defining characteristics in the comics, they inform his presence as an antagonist. But in tbtf? They've been redefined as vehicles for comedy, and Cheavy is so completely out of his element that everything in the fic baffles and confuses him. And it's funny! It's funny seeing him be utterly incredulous at the Resonance Arks, its funny watching him cuss out a giant flaming salamander! And more to the point, this incredulity makes him out to be someone who is completely done with the apocalypse. He's only been here a month and he is SO sick of this shit. And there's also the implication that this man is starting to lose it a little. The other mercs have largely adjusted to the situation, but Cheavy still needs a moment to yell about his predicament. It's good! It's funny! It makes Cheavy far more endearing to the audience!

3 - Cheavy is completely pitiful in tbtf: With all that said, there's also this sense of pitiful emptiness to Cheavy. The more you read, the more you realize that Cheavy is pretty damn pathetic. He's spent most of his life endlessly fighting for survival, whether it be against his abusive father, his Golden Child siblings, fighting for the Sisterhood and BLU, or fighting for his life in the apocalypse. His life has been one long string of brawls with no real end to it. He doesn't really have a purpose beyond it and thinks that it's all he's good for - its a life that is utterly pitiful and hollow. Moreover, when you see Cheavy at his most vulnerable in chapters 13 and 17, you get to see the emotionally raw and broken man that he's been hiding for decades. When the mask of the "Big Bad Boss of BLU" slips, he has nowhere to turn to. It works to keep his characteristic attitude intact, while also giving you a glimpse into the vulnerable man underneath. Its very heartwrenching, and I've been told that these particular scenes have made several people cry over Cheavy. Its a very sensitive and sympathetic nerve to pull on. It's hard to be scared by someone who just wants one thing in life...

4 - Cheavy is utterly devoted to Cmedic: And this here is the crown jewel of the piece that makes everything work. Cheavy is COMPLETELY devoted to Cmedic to a degree that most people would find unhealthy. We've seen what Heavy's do when their Medic's are threatened, and Cheavy cranks that up tenfold. He adores Cmedic, he loves him, he can't bear to see anything happen to Cmedic. He risks life and limb for Cmedic, he throws himself in front of an eldritch god to protect him, he comforts Cmedic when he's revealed to the The Marker, he comforts Cmedic in chapter 15 in a scene that is completely heartbreaking. Cheavy would GLADLY lie down on a fucking sword for Cmedic - and this devotion informs everything about Cheavy, right down to his virtues and vices. You see how adoring and doting he is, and you wonder "what kind of person does Cmedic have to be to cause this kind of behavior?" And then you see Cmedic, and you get it. Cmedic is deeply loving, inordinately kind, and extremely passionate about everything he does. He's a delight to be around, as seen in how quickly he becomes friends with Medic and Heavy. Cmedic is wonderful, intelligent, empathetic - he's everything that Cheavy has ever wanted in his life. Cheavy loves Cmedic so much that he'd put himself in grave danger just to make the world a slightly safer place for him. Cmedic brings out the best in Cheavy, and you see that everywhere in tbtf. When Cmedic is around, Cheavy is shown to be understanding, patient, gentle, and...well, even a bit of a flirtatious goofball. We see the little irrational quirks and idiosyncrasies that make Cheavy human. You see what drives him, and you want him to be happy. You see the side of him that made Cmedic fall in love with him, and it works wonders to garner sympathy from the audience.

And this is why I think Cheavy works SO WELL in tbtf. His "bad" traits from the comics are recontextualized for comedy, but there's also plenty of quiet, serious, and touching moments with Cmedic that adds a shitton of sympathy to his character. And its the comedy that makes those serious moments hit so much harder.

Anyways, thank you for coming to my Heal and Steel Tedtalk.

[ohallthecrushes]

"Missed you dearly"

A/N: I love, and I can't stress that enough, looove fluffy fluff fanfics about Reader and their S/O falling asleep together. There's something extremely soothing and lovely about it.

Summary: Morpheus finally visits Reader in the waking world and she falls asleep in his arms. (Did they have sex right before that? Duh. Do you want me to write a smut about it? Cause I will anyway 😺)

It was a quiet and peaceful night. A rare treasure in L.A. controlled by demons and vampires. You lay nestled against Morpheus, your head resting on his chest. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest was a soothing lullaby that matched with the dimmed light in your bedroom. His fingers traced delicate paths through your hair, a soft and tender touch that elicited a contented sigh from your lips.

It felt different to experience him in the waking world. His body was more real, more solid, his presence more evident. The sensation was also more to what you were used to. You could hear him breathing for example. Something he didn't do in the Dreaming.

You had spent most of the evening like that, just relaxing in each other's arms. It wasn't planned that you two should be meeting tonight. It was rather a nice surprise from Morpheus to visit you in the waking world.

When he appeared in your bedroom asking if you were free tonight, you nodded smiling. Luckily Angel gave everyone a free night after the last difficult and tiresome mission, so no one would bother you till the next day.

As the night wrapped around you like a protective cloak, Morpheus spoke in a voice that resonated like a whisper of starlight. "I find myself pleased with the choice to venture into your realm of wakefulness, my beloved. Perhaps I should repeat such visits with greater frequency."

You tilted your head slightly, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. A small smile played upon your lips.

"Perhaps?" Your finger brushed gently a circle around his nipple as you raised your brow.

"Not perhaps" he corrected himself "Certainly."

You placed a featherlight kiss on his chest before you rested your head again. "I'm glad you've decided to visit me too, Morpheus. It was a very pleasant surprise. But what made you want to change your mind? I thought you didn't want to come here."

To L.A., to the city of monsters, to Hyperion hotel, to my bedroom... You thought.

His fingers continued their soothing dance through her hair as he spoke, his words gentle and sincere. "

"I didn't avoid visiting you in the waking world due to lack of desire, my little Dreamer. It's just that determining the appropriate timing posed a challenge..." He pursed his lips. "However, I concede that continuously turning down your invitations would not only be impolite but also show a lack of respect."

Morpheus paused for a moment to place a kiss on the top of your head.

"That being said... I've also missed you dearly, love and I could not wait to see you again."

Your heart fluttered at his words, a sensation akin to the softest of his caresses. So there was one good thing that came from you being too busy to visit the Dreaming due to the last mission.

"I've missed you too and now that you're here with me I sort of don't want to fall asleep now."

As the night wore on, you felt the gentle pull of slumber tugging at ypur consciousness. Morpheus continued to hold you close, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back. With each tender touch, your eyelids grew heavier.

And then, just as you began to drift into the realm of dreams, Morpheus leaned down, his lips brushing against you forehead. "Remember, my love, that even when the world around you fades, I am with you. I meet you in the Dreaming, where our hearts are forever entwined."

You were held into the warmth of his embrace just a little bit longer until you fell deeply asleep only to find yourself in the Dreaming with Morpheus already by your side.

[torhues]

iwaizumi hajime.

iwaizumi made it clear when you broke up with him— that you wouldn't get together— as if it wasn't an unspoken rule already. you weren't so sure of his words but, pride had your conscience in its hands and you agreed, saying you wouldn't even think about doing that.

now you're sitting in a fancy cake shop in Florence, with iwaizumi in front of you. the last time you saw him was in highschool, when you broke up with him on the way to airport, when he said the two of you would be just fine even in a long distance relationship, when you said it was hard for you, when he asked whether you trust him, and when you said you do but it had started to shake.

the last time you saw him was around five years ago, see you don't even remember the timeline. you've been keeping a blurry image of him walking away as a souvenir for your eyes failed to give you a clearer look back then.

the orders are sitting on the table but you don't care enough to tend to them. on other days, you would take a picture— multiple pictures— send it to your friends, post it on your social media account if you feel like it, make it another insignificant moment of your life saved in the gallery. on other days, you would enjoy the dessert but today, the pear sauce on vanilla bread seems to reduce your appetite.

"i can't believe we're meeting all the way here, in Italy," albeit, he seems to enjoy his cake.

you imagined meeting him in California or Japan, or somewhere in Canada, at most, since he always wanted to visit the country, especially during fall, and coincidently, you've enrolled in the fall course for post-graduate studies, at some university. not Italy, not in the middle of your vacation that was supposed to be some sort of self-sobriety programme.

you nod. "me neither,"

and then he starts talking about college, what he has been up to recently, directing the same questions to you while you do your best to give a brief response. it isn't the timing that is making you feel out of place but instead, it's how normal iwaizumi is. you don't expect an argument, not an iwaizumi who can never forget you for your impromptu breakup and, neither the one who would ask you to get back together because living without you feels like hell,

like diving deep into the ocean without oxygen.

you don't want to have a melodramatic conversation but, you don't want him to act like you didn't leave him with loose ends, as if you didn't hurt him when all he ever did was make you happy. you want him to hate you, to utter all the words along the lines of love and loathe, to tell you that he loved you and still did, that it was so hard to move on and every breath pierced like glass shards in the heart, that he spent nights crying while reading your texts knowing you'd never come back and when he has been doing better finally, you appear in his life like nothing ever happened, and drag him back to step one. you want him to tell you things that resonate with the yearning you have for him in his heart, desperately beautiful yet painful, so that you don't have to ask yourself over and over again, am i the only one who still feels this way?

"how's life?" you ask this once, instead of letting him ask all the questions that you don't have a definite answer to.

iwaizumi pauses, he takes a breath, a look out of the glass windows, your eyes follow his gaze, there's a soft smile on his face.

iwaizumi lifts up his fingers. "i'm engaged," he's engaged. "and it'd be appreciated if you could make it to the wedding next month," and he's inviting you to his wedding next month.

he continues about how suddenly things happened and how sorry he is for not being able to invite you to the engagement; you don't mind any of it, quite frankly. you didn't even expect him to do that after changing your number. that's not what you're worried about, that is not even the worst part.

iwaizumi is engaged.

the sixteen year old boy who told you that he'd marry you the moment you both turn eighteen, the eighteen year old guy who promised to stay by your side— one who shared his firsts with you and swore to make you his last— is engaged. your heart is racing at a thousand miles per second, and for all the wrong reasons.

now that you notice, his smile has gotten wider, and he's talking about the girl he met in college and how she makes him feel like the happiest person ever. you notice the way he still fiddles with his fingers while talking about someone or something that he adores, the way he says those words with eyes that seem like they would never run out of love to give. the sunset shines upon him, he looks exactly the way he did on your first date.

do you smile the same way at her?

you know, you're in no place to complain, for you were the one to leave him when he begged you to say. it's not that you don't want him to move on in life, you said he deserved someone better the day you broke up, it still rings in your head as a reminder of your biggest mistake. you want to happy for him but, something about him moving on and you being stuck in the same place leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

"yn," he calls your name, you respond by shifting your eyes in his direction. "are you listening?" you are, albeit, you don't know how much you're processing.

you're picturing them together, doing everything you did with him; holding hands, going on dates, kissing, hugging, sleeping next to each other, movie nights that felt ever so intimate— you imagine her sharing every little memory but one that's a better version. you feel as if yo—

"if i ask you to get back with me, would you?" you ask, letting the words you've been suppressing for so long flow like water in a stream, one that could potentially flood everything around.

"yn, i'm engaged—"

"i mean, had you not been engaged and had i asked you to get back together," you clarify, "would you have agreed?"

there's a pause, a series of silence, strings of regret, traces of shared memories from the past that fill the little gaps in the air like blood in sinusoids. you remember your first fight with iwaizumi, and you want to know what he's thinking. it's not like you can tell, you forgot how to do that long ago. iwaizumi rarely ever looks disappointed or upset enough to give you a silent treatment. for a second, you think it's that, but it turns out you're wrong.

he doesn't look sad or angry, not disappointed at your question considering he's about to get married. instead, iwaizumi looks like he's hurting. as if he has waited for long, hoping to catch a glance of you somewhere even if it's in middle of a crowd because it's fine, that works. he can always reach you out amidst a crowd. iwaizumi looks like he doesn't have a definite answer to your question, but he is telling you that it's your fault.

a second passes and his phone rings. your eyes fall upon the caller ID, it's a name with a heart, you think it's her. it has to be, because iwaizumi, without sparing you a second glance, stands up, and puts on his coat, ready to leave. the little hope of getting an answer to that question goes off the moment he picks up his phone, or maybe even before that, because it doesn't look like iwaizumi has an answer to that.

but he stops. "no," he says.

and you realise, to him, you're the memory he buried deep in his mind while to you, iwaizumi is the air you struggle to breathe.

[elysiumania]

title: late night thoughts

pairing(s): dan heng, reader

characters: dan heng, reader, himeko, pom-pom, march 7th

word count: 2.9k

synopsis: a moment of thoughts of dan heng about one of his crewmates.

Beads of perspiration glistened on the brow of the guard aboard the Astral Express, accompanied by his thunderous, labored breathing resonating within the confines of his room. Dan Heng had once again experienced a night that exposed his former life in his place of origin. His evenings were frequently besieged by memories of his past that clung to him relentlessly, as if they were determined to never let go. Despite his earnest desire to break free from them, it seemed an impossible task. For the power coursing through his veins was a living testament to the life he had lived, the person he once was, his essence, and his formidable capabilities.

It was akin to an indelible marker that defied all attempts at erasure, no matter how ardent the desire to do so.

Dan Heng sat upright, his back as straight as a rod, as he massaged his temple. He knew that slumber would elude him once again, fearful that the same old nightmares would seize him anew, keeping him up for the rest of the night. His only recourse was to gaze out the window and behold the infinite expanse of stars that glittered like diamonds in the inky darkness of space.

Whenever Dan Heng was unable to drift off to sleep or would wake up from a nightmare, he would seek refuge in the twinkling stars outside his window. Sometimes, he would occupy himself with his duties as an archivist on the Astral Express, which proved to be a valuable distraction from the memories of his past that tormented him.

But at this moment, he desired nothing more than to remain in bed and watch the stars, as he glanced at the clock and realized that it was the time when most of the crew would be asleep in their respective quarters, save for their adorable little conductor, pom-pom.

Suddenly, a familiar voice from one of his crewmates jolted him out of his reverie, causing him to shift his gaze towards the door as though it was the most intriguing thing in the room.

“Pom-pom, would you like some pancakes?” Your voice rings in Dan Heng’s ears, diverting his attention.

“Pom-pom loves pancakes! I'm hungry, (Name)!” replied the little conductor with enthusiasm, eliciting a giggle from you.

“All right, come along with me to the kitchen,” you said, beckoning the cute little pom-pom to follow you.

The resounding footfalls gradually fade into silence as they move away from Dan Heng's quarters. The melancholic musings that had been plaguing his mind mere moments ago now give way to a perplexing inquiry: what could be keeping you up at this ungodly hour? 

Each time he awakens in the dead of night, he finds himself alone in his thoughts while the rest of the crew slumber peacefully in their own rooms. 

So why are you still awake?

Dan Heng is equal parts confused and intrigued by the mystery of your own sleeplessness.

In all honesty, when it comes to his other crewmate, he doesn't show any interest or curiosity, but the mere sound of your voice breaks through his trance effortlessly.

Dan Heng couldn't pinpoint exactly when his fascination with you began to emerge, but the moments and days he had spent in your presence had ignited a spark of intrigue. Every action you took seemed to draw him in like a magnetic pull, pulling him towards you, and his gaze would follow your every move with an intense curiosity. He couldn't explain why he was drawn to you in this way, especially since he had never felt this level of interest in another person before.

This enigma puzzled the reserved guard, who was used to feeling captivated by the eccentricities of objects or entities, rather than people with whom he had no particular objectives. Yet, despite the mystery surrounding his newfound fascination, he couldn't deny the pleasure and satisfaction he felt whenever he was around you.

In truth, this noble feeling was something entirely new and delightful, and it left Dan Heng eager to uncover the secrets of this captivating person who had captured his attention so easily.

The memories of your kindness flooded Dan Heng's mind, each one a cherished moment that he held close to his heart. He recalled the small gesture of you showing interest in him, asking questions about his hobbies and passions, and listening intently to his every word. It was a thoughtful act that he appreciated more than words could express.

Others might have found his interests dull, but you were different. You never hesitated to ask him about his otherworldly pursuits, and he would lose track of time as he explained and talked with you. The eagerness in your eyes was a balm to his soul, and he longed to see it again and again. It was a craving that he couldn't ignore, a desire to bask in the warmth of your fascination.

For so long, Dan Heng had felt invisible, like a shadow lurking on the periphery of other people's lives. But with you, he felt seen and valued as an individual. Your interest in him had kindled a flame of hope within his heart, and he was determined to keep that flame burning for as long as possible.

Dan Heng's hometown had been a place of hostility and animosity, where the mere mention of his name elicited hatred and disgust. To them, he was a pariah, a creature to be avoided at all costs, for fear that he would bring death and destruction upon those who dared to engage with him.

He couldn't blame them, not really. After all, he had committed unspeakable acts that had left a trail of devastation in their wake. There was no going back, no way to rewrite the past and change the course of events, like a storyteller tinkering with the plot of a book.

But in his new life on the Astral Express, things were different. Here, nobody knew about his past, and he had no intention of sharing it with anyone, not even you.

He had found a kind of solace in the anonymity of his new life, a reprieve from the judgment and scorn that had plagued him before. It wasn't a perfect existence, but it was bearable, and for that, he was grateful.

There's a simmering unease inside Dan Heng, a fear that you might uncover the secrets of his past life. The mere thought of it sends shivers down his spine, and he can't bear to imagine the warm, accepting gaze that you now give him turning into one of disgust and loathing.

It may seem selfish, but he wants to hold on to this moment of acceptance and generosity for as long as possible, reveling in the warmth of your gaze and basking in your kind regard. He knows that the inevitable reckoning will come eventually, but for now, he wants to savor the sense of belonging that he feels in your presence.

He is acutely aware that he can never truly escape the shadow of his past, that it will follow him wherever he goes until the end of his days. He is resigned to that fact, but he will do everything in his power to be ready for whatever the future may bring, even if it means putting his life on the line.

Dan Heng was once again interrupted from his musings when he heard a gentle knock at his door.

"Dan Heng, are you awake? I made you a herbal tea just in case you want to go back to sleep," you said softly on the other side of the door.

He was momentarily bewildered as to how you could have known he was awake, as he had made no sound. He had been sitting in his bed, lost in his tumultuous thoughts.

Not wanting to keep you waiting, Dan Heng rose from his bed and strode towards the door. As he slid it open, he was met by your kind, smiling face. You held a tray in your hands, with a warm cup of herbal tea made just for him.

His blue eyes instantly met your own (color) ones that sparkled with a mix of delight and concern. It reminded him of how you always looked at him with care whenever he got hurt on his missions, and with joy whenever he returned to the Astral Express.

Dan Heng couldn't deny the flood of warmth that enveloped him whenever you gazed at him with such a caring expression. He treasured every kind gesture you bestowed upon him, for he had never experienced such genuine consideration back in his hometown. 

Your presence in his life made him feel protected, like a guardian watching over him, even though he was the designated guard of the Astral Express. It was an irony he couldn't help but marvel at, yet he couldn't deny the comfort and solace he found in your company.

But you are just that kind of person.

Dan Heng admires your intelligence and tactfulness, recognizing your ability to perceive social situations and determine the appropriate actions to take. He admires your awareness of boundaries and social cues, and your ability to communicate in a way that puts others at ease.

He still vividly recalls the day you first met. Despite his reluctance to open up about his past, you treated him with respect and kindness. You didn't pry or press him for information, instead choosing to show him around the Astral Express and help him get acclimated to his new surroundings. Dan Heng was initially surprised that you didn't ask him more probing questions, but he later realized that you were respecting his boundaries and giving him the space he needed.

Over time, Dan Heng grew to appreciate your approach to conversations. While you would occasionally ask him surface-level questions, he never felt pressured or uncomfortable around you. He knew that you were genuinely interested in getting to know him, but that you also respected his privacy. In a world where everyone seemed to have an agenda, you were a refreshing change of pace.

He's relieved that you didn't pry about his personal life. It will be troublesome for him if you were. Hence, he's grateful for that.

From Dan Heng's perspective, you and he are alike in the sense that both of you are guarded about your personal lives. Despite working together for some time, he knows very little about you beyond surface-level information. While he can't help but feel curious about your past, he understands the importance of respecting your privacy.

Even March 7th, who is usually quite inquisitive, has never been able to pry any details about your life before the Astral Express. You seem content to keep your past a secret, and Dan Heng admires your ability to maintain boundaries.

Dan Heng recognizes that it wouldn't be fair for him to know about your past while keeping his own hidden. He appreciates the unspoken agreement between the two of you to maintain some level of distance and respect each other's privacy.

Therefore, he refrains from asking to avoid any sense of unfairness of the situation. Moreover, he finds the idea of prying into other people's business distasteful, and he loathes such behavior.

If someone were to ask him to describe you, he would use one word— mysterious. He finds you to be enigmatic and intriguing, someone who keeps their personal life hidden away.

While kindness is a trait that many possess, he perceives your benevolence to be more exceptional and unique. He feels more drawn to your compassionate nature than anyone else's, and he finds it difficult to resist its allure.

"How did you know I was awake?" Dan Heng inquired with a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"When Pom-pom and I stopped in front of your room, I heard a faint shuffling sound emanating from inside. Hence, I concluded that you were awake," you responded calmly.

As Dan Heng tried to comprehend your sharp sense of hearing, he realized that you were a mystery to him. How could you hear such a subtle noise from inside a room so clearly?

"I should ask you the same thing," Dan Heng said as he leaned against the door jamb, crossing his arms. "Why are you awake at this hour?"

You locked eyes with him for a brief moment before giving him a simple answer, "Nightmare."

That was all you said, but Dan Heng could sense the weight behind those words. He stopped himself from saying that he could relate to you as he pondered the similarities between the two of you.

"Well, you should take this tea. I already finished my fill a while ago with Pom-pom," you beam at him as you hand him the tray and he takes it from you. "I should go. I hope you have a good night's rest."

You say your farewell to Dan Heng and gracefully make your way towards your room. As you take your last step, you glance back at him, and with a gentle wave, you close the door behind you, leaving him to his thoughts.

Dan Heng stands there, rooted in his spot, watching as you disappear from his sight. He can't help but feel a sense of warmth in his chest as he thinks about the kind gesture you just showed him.

As he lowers his gaze to the tray of tea, he notices a thin line of vapor rising from it, indicating that the tea is still steaming hot. He can't help but be impressed by your attention to detail, making sure that the tea was still fresh before giving it to him.

After returning to his room, Dan Heng promptly set the tray down on the nightstand. He let out a faint exhale before lifting the teacup and taking a delicate sip.

As the warm liquid trickled down his throat, Dan Heng sensed his rigid muscles gradually loosen. His chaotic thoughts dissipated, as if they were being purged from his mind.

For Dan Heng, it was a brief yet much-needed pause from the turmoil of his thoughts. There's no noise that could be heard, only the stars beyond his window, and the only company he had for the night was the tea you had prepared.

As he gazed at his teacup once more, memories of your beaming countenance flooded his mind. The warmth of your smile seemed to linger in the room, even though you were no longer there.

It was a familiar pattern, one that you seemed to intuitively understand - knowing just when to offer a distraction or comfort to soothe Dan Heng's troubled thoughts. You were the unassuming hero, saving him from the abyss of his past without even realizing it.

There had been countless times when you had come to his aid, yet Dan Heng found himself unable to express his gratitude. It was as if his tongue was being held hostage by some invisible force, preventing him from articulating the depth of his appreciation.

Even in this moment, as he sipped on the tea you had made for him, Dan Heng was overwhelmed by a sense of gratitude that he was unable to put into words. He was keenly aware of the countless acts of kindness that you had bestowed upon him, and he knew that he owed you a debt that he could never fully repay.

Although it would be easy for Dan Heng to express his gratitude, he was held back by the fear that it would be too little, too late. He knew that time was running out for him, and that he may never have another opportunity to thank you for all that you had done.

Yet, a small voice in the back of his mind urged him to speak up, reminding him that it was never too late to show appreciation for the kindness of others. As long as he remained aboard the Astral Express, and drew breath, there was still time to make amends.

Deep down, Dan Heng knew that his time with the crew was limited. From the moment he first stepped aboard, he had known that he could never stay for long. The conversation he had with Himeko echoed in his mind, reminding him that he could leave the express once he had found his true destination.

It was a bittersweet realization, knowing that his presence could put the lives of those around him in danger. His dark past and the powers he possessed were secrets that he could never share with the crew he had grown to know and care for over the years. And yet, despite the inevitable parting that lay ahead, Dan Heng couldn't help but feel grateful for the moments of peace and companionship that he had found aboard the Astral Express, especially to you.

Dan Heng was acutely aware of the danger he posed to those around him, and he didn't want to put you or the rest of the crew at risk because of his dark past. He knew that you had shown him kindness beyond what he deserved, and he didn't want any more trouble to come your way.

Despite his fear and hesitation, Dan Heng realized that he needed to express his gratitude for your unwavering assistance. He knew that time was running out, and he didn't want to miss the chance to say what he had been holding back for so long.

As he looked down at his tea, Dan Heng felt a sense of calm wash over him. And before he knew it, he had spoken the words that had been on his mind for so long.

"Thank you, (Name)."