#anyway i refuse to feel bad about this i'm adjusting to a lot of change and feeling very vulnerable and i neec the comfort of an old friend😭

[theseventhveil1945]

i thought last years return to bleach signaled rock bottom but a returning interest in naruto???? just start killing the hostages now

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt. 60)

(sneek peak)(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Life changes come in many many forms; courting gifts, leaving jobs, and...Murder

Tags: Slow burn getting warmer, Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, Trans! Tae, Transphobia, gender thoughts, workplace discrimination, flashbacks, murder, graphic violence blood, suicidal actions

W/c: 11.5k

A/n: ah i'm hoping i'll finish this in time! if not T-T i'll be attending my cousins wedding at the time this is posted so! give me lots of love when you read it cuz i'm so nervous~ i've never been around so many fancy people before. also that photo of hobi? in the moodboard? tell me why it makes my heart FLUTTER!!!

Previous part ~ Masterlist

~-~

Chapter 60: Glass Slippers

Your breath goes just a little bit rapid, just a little, hitching when you think of it.

“Did Jin tell you anything?”

“He didn’t. Although my secretary did inform me that he filled out the paperwork for you.” The air in the therapist’s office is cold. Cold enough that it has you wrapping your sweater sleeves over your knuckles.

Your cheeks heat “My pack they- get a bit- protective.” Your fingers circle your wrist. You’re glad that Hobi convinced you to take one of his sweatshirts. He'd had a strange look on his face while he zipped it up, and you'd had to worry and wonder about it the whole morning. You'd worried more once he texted, just after he must have gotten to work.

“I have kind of a history of self-destructive behavior and I- I kind fell into bad habits a few days ago and blew up. It was all kind of triggered by this like- thing that happened with me and my other packmate.” It’s surprisingly easy to tell the truth.

You’re a right side better than you have been the last few weeks, now. A little bit more present, less foggy. The doctor just looks at her screen and not at you. What is it with her asking questions that make you not want to lie? Why does it feel like you should anyway?

Dr. Rima reads between the lines, what you're trying to say without saying it. “Is there a possibility of you hurting yourself again?” She clicks at the screen a little rapidly.

“No.”

The truth is you have no idea. It seems best to lie in this situation. But you consider it; one of your packmates making the call that you are too much to handle, that you need more help than they can offer. You imagine what it would be like to be in inpatient care. Grippy socks and group therapy and probably observed mealtimes. Maybe Iv's and feeding tubes if it came to that. Away from the pack and away from Yoongi.

He’s just downstairs, but that feels too far. There was no way that he was going to let you do this alone, you wouldn't be surprised if he never left the waiting room.

It’s just a therapy session. The very thing that you once refused. But now that you're here you might as well heal, you might as well work to stop this endless train of brief highs and endless lows. you'll give it a go, why not? What do you have to lose?

And yet, the texts from Hobi remain unanswered:

Ho-🐝 (9:48): Hey, I’m really proud of you.

Ho-🐝 (9:48): I’m really happy I get to be your packmate. In case you ever worry.

Ho-🐝 (9:49): And your best friend too <3

Ho-🐝 (9:51): Just so you knowwww

Coming Saturday September 23rd at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustment Below)

[shanesboyfriend]

The Flower Dance (Shane x Reader)

haha first post and its already very self indulgent. anyways, this is based on how i've always danced with shane at the flower dance, since i basically shower him in gifts!! hope you enjoy!

Shane x male!Reader (he/him)

Summary: Obviously you wanted to dance with him. Without a doubt. But you knew he had issues with trust. If you asked him to dance though, he might be upset. Might think your request was a way of you making fun of him or he might take it the wrong way. If he wasn't interested romantically in you, he might close himself off again. There were a lot of ways this could go wrong...

Moving into the Valley was, so far, the best decision you'd ever made.

The Spring had been peaceful and, while you were still finding your footing with this whole farming thing, you'd been doing pretty well! You'd already grown a decent amount of parsnips and the new potatoes and cauliflowers were growing perfectly. Currently you were saving up for some green beans. Though you weren't exactly thinking that hard about that right now.

Right now, you were looking yourself over in a full body mirror, frowning slightly at the blue suit, embroidered with faint, lighter blue floral patterns. "I dunno, Haley," you hummed with a squinted your eyes at yourself, turning to see yourself from the side. "Isn't it a bit..."

"Tacky?" The blonde girl giggled from where she sat on her own bed. Her sister, Emily, had been kind enough to make you an outfit for the Flower Dance this year though you were questioning if the suits were really supposed to be this... uncomfortable. "Yeah," Haley sighed wistfully. "Mayor Lewis loves tradition though. Em's offered to give the outfits an upgrade but he's always refused." She pulled the edge of her skirt down slightly, the soft white fabric looking pretty on her.

Were you not gay, she would undoubtedly been the girl of your dreams.

"At least your dresses are pretty," you pointed out with a pout. "You guys have more stylistic freedom." The men had to wear blue suits with white button up shirts while the girls could wear any white dress so long as the skirt was knee-length.

Haley shrugged with a smirk. "Wear a dress next year then." You paused at her suggestion. The idea tempted you honestly...

Emily knocked on the door quickly. "You guys ready? I don't want us to be late."

"Coming, Em." Haley rolled her eyes almost dramatically. As you got closer to the sisters, they would often comment to you how 'weird' it was that they were sisters, like they were so different they couldn't possibly be related. But then they'd immediately do something so sister-like it floored you.

But hey, what did you know?

The walk to the fields wasn't too long nor was it as bad as you thought it would be in dress clothes. Haley complained a bit about how she didn't want grass stains on her shoes and Emily pointed out how they'd be dancing in a field so it didn't matter.

"Soooo... what's the point of this dance?" You asked as the three of you neared the clearing. You'd understood the point of the Egg Festival and the egg hunt had been fun, but this festival was unknown to you. There'd been nothing like this in the city.

Emily made a little happy sound, twirling a bit as she walked. "Something about fertility rituals." You immediately paled and she just laughed good-naturedly. "The meaning has changed over the years, don't worry!" Emily did another twirl with a reassuring smile. "Nowadays, the dance is just something couples or close friends do together..." She seemed wistful as she stared out at the open field "Dancing is how I feel connected to the world around me." Emily said, almost a dreamy tone to her voice. "I've never bought into the idea of self. It's more sensible to me that we are all ripples in the universe... So dancing makes me feel like I'm apart of the universe, a ripple of my own."

You and Haley shared a look as her sister adjusted the red flower in her blue hair. "She's weird," Haley whispered as Emily made her way into the clearing and out of earshot. "I never understand how her mind works..." Haley sighed with a shake of her head, the flower crown on her head rustling..

Shrugging, you just followed after Haley as she led the way towards Alex. "She's nice though. Could be worse."

Haley gave you a look. "Like that'd stop you." She teased, making you blush.

Her comment wasn't untrue, you thought to yourself as your eyes drifted across the field and landed on a very particular man. One you had, despite his best interest, whittled down enough to be considered a friend. Buying him drinks had certainly earned you favor but the pizza you'd bought him for his birthday had sealed the deal.

You were friends with Shane. Regardless of how hard he'd tried to be mean to you, he'd softened with you. You'd shared a drink with him by the lake and listened to his troubles, his drunken ramblings. At one point, a few days ago, he'd asked if he'd ever gotten sentimental when drunk. You'd lied and said no and he'd told you that, should he ever get that way, to forget whatever he said.

He had issues with intimacy and trust. You had issues with a need to be useful and you did things without really thinking or planning. But hey, it'd landed you here, so maybe it wasn't all bad.

When you had told Haley about your budding friendship with Shane a few days ago, she hadn't even pretended to be surprised. "You befriended me before anyone else," she had said as she painted your nails, "Clearly you have a 'type' of person you like."

You'd chosen to not think about it too much.

"Sooo... you gonna ask him to dance with you?" Present day Haley asked, hands resting on her hips.

Staring at Haley, a few thoughts crossed your mind. First one was that you were never confiding secrets in Haley again. Second was a worry that you were obvious in your feelings for him.

You glanced quickly across the field at Shane, dressed in a plain blue blazer and matching dress pants, the white shirt unbuttoned just a bit at the top and he'd clearly abstained from wearing a tie. He seemed to be conversing with Alex, likely about the recent gridball game. They liked the same team, as far as you knew. Shane seemed so enthralled in the conversation he didn't even notice you staring.

"I have no idea what you mean." You said to Haley with undeserved confidence.

She leveled you with an unimpressed look. "Uh huh. Sure babe. Look, Shane's never been asked to dance by anyone in this town that, like, actually wanted to dance with him specifically. He and Emmy only dance together 'cuz it's mutually beneficial." Haley smirked at you. "He'd probably be reeeeal happy if you asked him. Since you like him and all."

You paused at that, feeling a pang in your heart as you blushed. As Haley walked off to go practice her dance moves, you mulled over her words. You knew Shane hadn't grown up in the valley and, up until a few years ago, he'd never needed to participate in the dance.

So the idea that Shane had never danced with someone who liked him made you feel weird. Not pitiful but something close.

Obviously you wanted to dance with him. Without a doubt. But you knew he had issues with trust. If you asked him to dance though, he might be upset. Might think your request was a way of you making fun of him or he might take it the wrong way. If he wasn't interested romantically in you, he might close himself off again. There were a lot of ways this could go wrong...

You felt yourself zone out. A lot of your thoughts surrounding Shane and what you were going to do. You were so entranced that you didn't even see the little figure approaching you until she tugged on your arm. "Oh!" You exclaimed, looking down at Jas. "Hey sweetheart. You need something?"

Since moving to the town, you'd become familiar with a lot of the townspeople. Jas included. You brought her daffodils almost every morning and chatted with her when you saw her. She was a sweet girl, very mature and observant for her age. Marnie had talked a little bit about her parents being gone, that her mom had been Marnie's niece and Shane's sister. That her death had been devastating.

Jas was acutely aware of her parent's existences. She'd been barely two when they'd died but talking about them upset her immensely.

"Are you going to ask Uncle Shane to dance?" Jas asked innocently, a too-knowing look behind her eyes.

You felt your face heat up, looking away nervously. "Ah, um, well, I... I dunno if he'd want to dance with me. I'm sure he'd rather dance with Emily..."

Jas looked up at you and giggled, almost like you'd said something ridiculous. "He talks about you a lot! I hear him sometimes in the barn talking to Charlie. He really, really likes you." She smiled, taking your hand in hers. "C'mon! I'll help ya!"

"J-Jas- No it's okay! You don't have to-" You stuttered as the girl pulled you across the field. Secretly, though, you let her lead you. A deep part of you wanted Shane to dance with you and Jas could be a good buffer if he said no. Even if he did reject you, he may be softer about it with Jas present...

At least you wouldn't be stewing over 'what-ifs'...

"Uncle Shane!" Jas called, practically skipping over.

Shane's head snapped over immediately, his eyes on her before he looked at you. It made your stomach do flips and made your face heat up. As much as he believed he had fucked up with Jas, he clearly adored her and she adored him in turn. He wasn't perfect, far from it, but you knew he cared.

The thought he'd make a good dad was quickly stamped out before it could blossom.

"What's up squirt?" Shane asked, making his way over. Alex had walked off to go see Haley so it was just the three of you. At least that'd lessen your embarrassment if he rejected you.

Jas said nothing, just reached over and took his hand in hers. Before Shane could ask her what was up, she pressed your hands together, your fingers tangling with Shane's. His hands were warm...

The older man blinked down at his goddaughter, a flush creeping up his neck. "Uhhh... Jas? What's, uh-"

"The farmer wants to dance with you!" She beamed, looking proud of herself and her matchmaking skills. "Have fun!" Jas said before skipping off to find Vincent.

Shane let go of your hand quickly and chuckled nervously. "Uh, sorry about her. She's- that's new from her."

You swayed a bit on your feet, feigning ignorance. "Yeah, I, um, I dunno what that was..." Swallowing, you decided to take a leap. "But, um, if you wanted to dance with me... I- I want to dance with you." You let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding.

Shane stared at you like you'd grown two heads. "You... want to dance with me?" He asked incredulously. "I thought you'd be dancin' with Haley?"

Now it was your turn to stare. "What? No, I- Why would I be dancing with Haley?"

"Dude, you follow her around like a lost puppy." Shane smirked, giving you a look. "Figured you'd be with her."

You blushed a bit and gave him a shrug. "Well, I like you. I'd rather dance with you."

...Fuck, wait, shit!

Shane stared at you, gaze softening slowly. "You're serious?" His voice was soft. As if you were going to pull out the rug from underneath him. Make fun of him.

You nodded quickly, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. "I want to dance with you."

Shane let out a soft huff, smiling down at his shoes. "Yeah. Alright. Since it's you." You swore he was blushing as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Um. See you then?"

Feeling lightheaded, you nodded. You knew you were smiling dumbly as Shane walked away. You turned to watch him go and you wondered if he was just as nervous about the whole thing as you were.

[civicmuses]

100 years ago

Rosaline has been with Sarah and Marsha for a few days now. While Marsha wasn't too fond of this new arrangement to begin with, it wasn't helped by Rosaline's attitude. Their father spoiled their youngest sister and it showed. As much as she disliked using the word, Rosa was...well, a brat.

Rosa threw a lot of fits whenever she didn't get her way. She has called Autumn 'dumb' a few times, even when the pup was excited over Rosa living here. And Rosa was just so...bossy. And if she was being honest, Sarah was too nice for her own good. No matter how rudely Rosa acted, Sarah never tried to put her foot down.

It all came to a head one night at dinner. Sarah had decided to make grilled cheese sandwiches for the three of them and, as usual, Rosaline was refusing to eat it. Marsha knew what was coming; she could feeling the impending fit coming and by now...she had enough.

"You know what, I've had enough of you acting like a brat."

Sarah and Rosaline froze. Rosa, who was initially lashing out at Sarah, turned her ire at Marsha.

"What?"

"You heard me. You have been acting like a brat ever since you got here. You have been rude to me, rude to my animals, and rude to Sarah. And I will not stand for it."

Rosa, who was sitting directly across from Marsha, stood up onto her chair. Just so she could get up into Marsha's face.

"Well no one asked you!" She pointed her finger in Marsha's face. "No one even cares about your dumb-"

"Don't you dare point your finger in my face!" Marsha cut her off.

As Marsha and Rosa continued to argue, Sarah sat there, her face in her hands. She was on the verge of crying until she finally had enough.

"Alright, that's it! I will not let you two keep fighting like this!" Points at Rosa. "You, go to your room." Points at Marsha. "And you, I need to talk you."

Rosa tried to protest but Sarah was having none of it. "I said go. Now." She didn't like how she sounded. Rosa got down from her chair, kicked it before storming up stairs. Sarah heard the door slam before she continued.

She sharply turned to Marsha. "Look. I know that this situation isn't ideal and I'm sorry...but this isn't the way to go."

"The fuck you mean this isn't the way to go? You just want to let her keep walking all over us?!"

"Look...this is an adjustment for all of us. I'm trying here...I am really, really trying. And I do appreciate you sticking up for me. But...could I ask you to at least try to...reach out to Rosa."

"...What?"

"Look. You know how dad is. I mean...it's obvious that dad spoiled Rosaline and then dumped her on us when he didn't want to deal with her anymore. I'm not asking you and Rosa to become best friends, I'm just asking you to try reaching out to her."

Marsha huffed. "I'll try."

---

A while after she and Sarah finished dinner, Marsha came to up to Rosa's room, holding Rosa's uneaten sandwich. She lightly tapped on the door. "Rosaline? It's me."

"Go away." She could hear Rosa mutter through the door as Marsha heard her sniffle.

"I'm not here to yell at you. I've come in peace. Can I come in?"

There was a long silence. "I guess. Or not. I don't care..."

Marsha walked in to see Rosa curled up on her bed. It was clear that Rosa had been crying. This made Marsha feel a little bad, but at the same time she knew that she needed to say what she said.

"So...um...I know you didn't want the sandwich but I brought it up anyway...in case you were...hungry."

Marsha placed the sandwich on the bedside table. Rosa looked at the sandwich before taking it. She began to scarf it down, showing that she was hungry.

"Look...uh...I'm sorry that I...snapped at you." Marsha wasn't good with apologies and it showed.

Rosa looked at Marsha. "Why are you being nice to me?"

"Well, I..."

"You don't have to be. I know I'm a bad kid...Daddy thinks I'm a 'problem child'."

"...What?"

"Daddy told Sarah that I was a 'problem child'...so I know I'm a bad kid."

Marsha wasn't expecting to become close to Rosa but in that moment, something changed inside of Marsha. Big sisterly instinct that she thought had long since died inside her suddenly sparkled to life. She stood up.

"Come with me."

"...Why?"

"Just come on."

Rosa was hesitant at first but eventually, she followed Marsha. Marsha took Rosa into her own bedroom before seating the child in front of her TV. Marsha then began to skim the small bookcase of tapes showcasing different movies and tv shows.

"...What are you doing?"

Marsha pulled out two tapes; one was for the first season of Magical Unicorn Club while the other was for the first season of a show named Bear's House. "Let's watch some tv together. Pick one."

Rosaline, confused, pointed to Bear's House. "Listen," Marsha began. "Dad is wrong for saying that you're a problem child." Marsha put the tape into the tape player seated underneath the TV. "You know that dad used to spoil me, too? And then when he lashed out at me...'spoiled brat' is one of the things he'd call me."

Marsha sat next to Rosa but still gave her space. "I know that this must be...a change. Sarah does, too. But...we're not going to give up on you. If...you'd allow us to..."

Rosa was silent for a while. "...I guess."

[badwolfweightloss-blog]

2-5

Its Sunday, and not the beginning of my weigh in week, but its still a "new week" and I'm going to treat my head as much. I need to re-assert my commitment to WW.

Here's how the past 3 days went down:

Thursday - I went to the gym with hubby. I tried the eliptical, thinking it would be better on my knee. It in fact wasn't because it forces me into a bigger range of motion. I did that for 10 minutes and switched to the treadmill for walking. By this time, my knee didn't feel normal. I feel like my left leg is longer than my right, and the whole of my body weight is coming down weirdly on it as a result. I think I need to see a foot doctor to evaluate my walk and see if I can get an insert that might help me adjust better. Its a frustrating thing to have arthritis in these mobility joints and have doctors do nothing. Are they choosing not to treat me because of the obesity? Or are they even diagnosing it properly? All I know is its frustrating because I want to exercise and start changing my life but I cannot even start. My shoulder is better this week, but last week I couldn't even lift my arm up - how could I have started swimming like that? I think this all began my depression. Plus hubby was home from work and is also on his own health journey, but he's depressed and its a weird dynamic right now. I have been trying to support him and have invited him into my world of weight loss, but to see him not embrace it properly or in the same way I do is weird. Like, I have given up alcohol, but he still insists he can drink because his liver his fine. But, he refuses to see the logic that alcohol breaks down to a sugar that increased diabetes, (his a1c is 5.9.) Also, alcohol increases cholesterol, and there is nothing healthy about it. I just wish he'd go back to work at this point. But, playing basketball, he jammed his finger, and it looks really bad and swollen. The xray said it wasn't broken, but he's 4 days in and still can't bend it, so I'm not sure I trust the xray. He has a hand doctor scheduled for Friday. I know I'm married and I have to jump in here and help with all of the doctor appointments and mental support, but I'm barely standing on my own and now have to be a rock for him. Its a lot. Also, for some reason, maybe because work was stressful this week with having to store quarter, midterm, and semester grades for the school district I work for - but I intentionally skipped therapy this week. I really didn't have to, but now the therapist sent the veiled threat that I would be punished for not showing. Fine, punish me. I quit. She's a shitty therapist anyway.

Friday was socially stressful. Hubby insisted on having a night with our drinking couple friends. That's what we do. We get together sometimes on a friday night after a stressful week and have a few drinks together. And by a few - - - -my friend and I get wasted wasted on wine. I'm always good for a bottle by myself, and usually more. The men also get shitfaced. It usually ends with them leaving, me and hubby a sloppy mess, and a night of "intimacy" where I barely remember anything, thank God because it usually makes me uncomfortable anyway at best, and in pain at worst. So anyway, I told hubby on Thursday I have completely given up alcohol and I'm serious about it this time. Its been almost a month at this point. He said ok - but here it is the next day on Friday where he exclaims to us and the other couple that its a red wine night, he's going to be picking up a bunch of bottles. He says he did this because his doctor told him to drink red wine (I think that's a lie or shitty advice - one or the other.) I say he did this to tempt me and throw me off because he wants me to be a drinker so I can be a codependent alcoholic with him. I called him out on it the day after and he claims this is not what he did. Either way, I doubled down, and am still alcohol free even after the subsequent date night that happened yesterday. Anyway, Friday ended sort of successful, but sort of not. As far as alcohol, I had about 12 ounces of alcohol-free wine. It didn't taste fantastic, but I mixed it with seltzer, and my friends thought I was drinking wine. It was a ruse, but it was easier than dealing with them saying over and over "you aren't drinking" - which is what she did last time we got together, and it was really annoying. I mean, I get you want to get drunk - really I get it - and I'm not judging cause I want to too, but you don't need me to drink with you to do it. Its going to put a wedge in our friendship for sure. For now, I'll fake it with fake wine. It worked out well. The problem was with the cheese and nuts. We put it out because we had to put out something. I had planned on an ounce of cheese. I think i might have done 2 ounces. I had not planned on any nuts - I think I might have had 1/4 cup of nuts. So, definitely over into weeklies. I had 18 left the next morning. Here's the shitty part ... I was 4 pounds over when I weighed in the next morning.

We will take it from there with some background. I've been regularly losing, so the 4 pound increase is unlikely fat, and most definitely bloat. But my other two friends and I are in this ww text message thread together where we send each other positive encouragement, recipes, and talk about our NSVs. We are close friends, so this should be positive for me, but its not. Instead, I feel competitive, unworthy, and fat. They keep talking about food replacements, and I'm not replacing anything, I'm just cooking healthy and eating smaller portion sizes. The way they text things, as if its the only way, as if they are in charge of all things weight loss, like they know better than everyone else in the world really, really irks me. I don't know if its triggering because of the way I was raised by a very domineering mother who forced every idea she had on me like it was fucking scripture, but I really am not handling this text thread well. Anyway, they all posted their weight loss for the month, and they all had more than me. I wanted to post 15, but I remember I was just shy. So on Saturday morning, I tried to weigh in, thinking I might have the 15 now and I could participate in the text thread again with some amount of pride, but instead I was 4 pounds over. over. over. over. This broke me. I was really screwed up most of the day from this. I had a fruit smoothie for 6 points, and we were supposed to go out to a fancy restaurant with friends, so this blew a lot of the points I had planned for it. The truth is I didn't want to go out with friends, be tempted with more food, be tempted with more wine, and prioritize everyone else and everyone else's conversations instead of my own health and joy. So, with one friend bailing out, we took the same lead and hubby and I had a date night.

Date night needs its own bullet point. We haven't had a date night in a long time, and this looked different than it would for other couples, or even for ourselves. I have been begging hubby for a year for a date night with a fancy restaurant, but now with both of us watching our food, this didn't seem like a good idea. Instead we wung it - went into a posh town near us, found a gormet taco place, split a special (each had one special taco) and had some beans and rice on the side. This was cheap, and within our diets. Then, we did a bookstore, a boardgame store, and a desert place. He wanted the desert - life is not complete for him without it, and even with his sugar issues, he wanted a desert. I had decaf and almond milk. I am not tempted by deserts, so this wasn't a trigger for me. I enjoyed his company and this was a nice stop. After that, he wanted to go to the brewery to grab two beers. Again, not too much of a trigger, although it makes me sad that he won't give up alcohol too. Then we came home, I played a little piano, we played a game, kids went to bed, he had one of his beers, and we went to bed. It was a good night, although I'm still experiencing pain :( menopause sucks.

New day. I'm staying the fuck off the scale. I cannot see another terrible number. It does not help me. I know I have to make healthy choices. A number on that scale will not change that. I am not binging, I am in control.

[cursivebloodlines]

For some reason, weddings made Dougie nervous. Then again, there wasn't a lot that didn't make him nervous. But he was a good friend, and when he was asked to be the best man for Eric and Emma's wedding, there was no universe in hell where he would refuse. To put it simply, it would be wrong. Maybe the thought made him awkward because it was a lot of socialising. Or a reminder of what he almost had once...Close to a wedding, or marriage. Then again, when he looked back - he would've been making the biggest mistake of his life, had he gone through with said thing. That made him feel a little better but didn't stop the unease. Not completely. Even still, it had been such a lovely occasion. The newlyweds were a perfect couple and Dougie was genuinely so happy for them, and to be part of such a special day.

But there were other reasons for today being special too. It was a blast from the past when he saw her there... Serena. It had been...what? Years? Maybe, since he last saw her but he'd recognise her from anywhere; she looked stunning. And then he realised maybe that was not an appropriate thought to have of your ex's sister. Ex was perhaps an exaggeration, really. He and Taylor dated in high school and like most high school relationships, it never worked out. It simply wasn't to be, they weren't compatible enough. Truthfully, it was Serena who he'd liked first back then. But he thought she was so out of his league, and he was too shy to make a move, so when her sister caught his attention and made the first move...he couldn't help himself. It was new at the time, and he felt seen. For someone as quiet and awkward as he could be, that was everything. Good grief, how many years had that been?

Dougie had wanted to approach her ever since he laid eyes on her at the wedding... Every time he kept summoning the courage to, he would chicken out at the last minute. Too busy thinking about what he would say, whether he would make a fool of himself. Some things never changed; he was always too afraid to say anything. Taken out of his thoughts by a perhaps slightly inebriated Emma calling his name, he paused on making googly eyes at Serena to engage in conversation with her. Exchanging the pleasantries, and some laughter, it was Em's words which surprised him. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, or the high from her special day. "Don't you think she looks beautiful tonight?" A flicker of confusion etched his features, and he released a nervous laugh. Was she talking about...? Dougie feigned confusion, a head tilt, and a questioning look. In return, Emma shot him a knowing look before exclaiming "Serena! Who else? I've seen the way you've been looking at her. Why don't you talk to her?"

An involuntary flush of pink coloured the man's cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck. "What do I even say?" Emma shook her head at him, laughing. He had no idea what she was laughing at but he laughed too because it felt like the right thing to do. "'Hey' would be a good start. You know..." the woman trailed off, as if she was considering her words carefully... but they came out anyway. "She used to be in love with you back in school. She's single now, as are you. What do you have to lose? Get what I'm saying?" Dougie rose his eyebrows at her as if to say 'spit it out.' The smile was still on his lips as he shook his head - was he really that bad at taking a hint? "The math is finally mathing! Do something, Doug. Come on. Now." Before he had the chance to respond, she had pulled him forward, patting him on the back a couple times before giving him a gentle push -- literally.

Dougie stumbled slightly, whipping his head back to see Emma giving him a thumbs up before carrying on her merry way. Swallowing nervously, he adjusted himself, straightened up and his eyes fixated on Serena once again. Emma was right - what did he have to lose? Apart from making himself look like an idiot. Clearing his throat as he approached her, he offered her a gentle smile before starting with his opener...as advised..."Hey."

𝒅𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒔 & 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒂│closed starter for @cursivebloodlines based on this

Lowkey Serena wished she could disappear. The wedding had been lovely tho and she was happy for Emma and Eric, but with the chaos of the weekend she still hadn't been able to wrap her head around the fact that her boyfriend had been cheating on her and that she she had found out only two days ago. Serena's taste in men was terrible, she definitely could tell herself that, just picked idiots apparently.

Doug. She saw him during the ceremony, he was Eric's best man and Serena was one of Emma's bridesmaids. She couldn't stop her gaze from drifting to him during the ceremony, Douglas looked so incredibly hot in that suit that Serena was almost sure it took the breath away of most of the female guests. Damn sure he took her breath away for a bit. They were both older but she could still see the guy who had been her high school crush for much of her teenage years and then he had ended up dating her sister, Taylor.

"Second chance romance" It was how Emma had called it. She had been more than excited to see if Douglas and Serena could get together now that they were both single at the same time. Serena tho believed that this train had already passed but Emma had been more committed to seeing what could happen or not between them than with her own wedding. Emma was brooding over the fact that they were both technically single even though Serena was still having trouble considering herself single. It hadn't even been a week since everything blew up with her ex. Her friend had squealed (literally) when Serena was the one that grabbed the bouquet before modulating "second chance romance" causing Serena to roll her eyes. Emma was being ridiculous. He was avoiding him on purpose honestly, she didn't want to allow herself to feel anything.

By the time an Emma, a little cheerier from too many drinks, had approached Douglas to tell him God knew what, Serena knew they'd probably talked about her from the look he was giving her now, burning her from the inside.

[taechaos]

Silent Treatment

from Textbook Love drabble series

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you.

warnings: slight angst, drugs, arguing, dubcon, cunnilingus, mild degredation

word count: 4.2k

tags: @mwitsmejk @1-in-abillion @kooookie

a/n: the request (contains some spoilers). i'm gonna take a very short break from this couple to write other requests!! hope u enjoy 💗

The shift in the Spring weather is unpredictable. One moment it’s chilly, and the other sunny. Humans can only adapt so much, and it causes an outbreak of common colds. Most people recover easily, handy medicine soothing their sore throats, syrups suppressing coughs, and nose sprays ridding the blockage. You, on the other hand, are not that lucky. With a weak immune system, you’re very careful to not get sick, but there must have been a slip-up because you’ve somehow lost your voice after catching a cold.

You sniffle and cough, but you can’t speak. It’s advised to not exert your vocal cords in cases like these, and that is just so unfortunate for you. The last thing you’d ever want to do is spread your sickness to Jungkook, and that meant not getting too close to him; it meant no kissing. 

A very large white placard is spread out in front of you on the wooden table, and you’re plastering printed images of a specific global issue on it. You’re sitting on a bench with two of your friends as they chatter mindlessly while you work. Jungkook has a project about climate change due in a few days, and it’s supposed to be very important for his final grade. You’ve already written him a script for his presentation along with a stick prop to point at specific pictures. It’s fun, glittery and he’s going to love it. 

“Hey,” Minnie, your friend, calls for you, “we’re going to get some coffee from Starbucks. Want us to get you green tea?”

Soyeon laughs when your eyes light up; it’s your favorite beverage, and it’s supposed to help with your sore throat. They leave with a smile after you give them a hyper nod and you’re alone as you adjust your woolen scarf around your neck. You need to heal as fast as you can so you’re no longer missing your beloved’s affection.

Jungkook has been feeling more inclined to approach you without reason lately, but that doesn’t mean it’s a common occurrence. Getting teased by his friend, specifically Taehyung, about having a sissy crush on a girl like yourself angered him to no end. A hit always got him to shut up, but not for long. He’s walking your way today because there’s no one around to judge him for talking to you. 

You’re tearing a double-sided tape when he sits on your table, carefully avoiding your materials. Your breath hitches as his eyes gloss over your work in progress. “Working hard, I see,” he comments with disinterest. He doesn’t say anything about your efforts, but he’s impressed. The corner of his lip tugs upwards before he leans in for a kiss. You have enough self-control and concern for his well-being over your desires to lean back before your lips make contact. His face is close to yours as he pauses and slightly frowns before trying again. He receives the same results and finally pulls back. 

“You did well,” he frowns at you and speaks as if you’re a child, “I’m praising you.” Your eyes are darting back and forth awkwardly and you don’t know what to do other than sit in silence. You put your hands on his knees as a resort and his frown deepens as he watches you. “I can take a hint, you know. You don’t have to fucking ignore me.” He roughly shoves your hands and stands up before storming off with a scoff. You’re torn between following him and being responsible over your belongings. You can’t let his grades go to waste because of a small misunderstanding, so you decide to text him instead. There’s always a possibility someone might steal his project. Or maybe after he’s cooled off? You delay the message, but somewhere in your heart, you’re satisfied by his reaction because it’s clear that he wanted to kiss you.

Heavy footsteps clomp against the sidewalk before Jungkook slumps on the seat next to Taehyung. It’s an isolated area for smoking students at the back of the campus, and his friend group is no exception to this role. They’re taking drags of cigarettes individually as Jungkook glares at his boots. They’re chunky and a bold black, and his dark outfit paints him as the big bad wolf. It fits, because he’s ready to attack when he’s filled with so much resentment. Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you. It doesn’t make sense, but you also grimaced at him, but then why were you doing his homework? He’s feeling frustrated, and upset all the same.

“Someone’s troubled,” Seokjin points out with a mouthful of smoke. “Kookie?”

Said boy only grunts in response.

“Did the lousy girl finally see you for who you really are and leave you?” Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to mock him with a pout. “Tragic.”

“Shut the fuck up, Tae,” Jungkook spits and sends him a death glare, fire flaming in his fierce eyes. “Go actually talk to a girl or something, and leave me alone. I can’t take your shit right now.”

The low blow doesn’t affect Taehyung in the slightest as he holds up his hands in defence with comically wide eyes. “Relax, tiger.”

“Moving on from Tae’s inability to talk to girls in broad daylight, what’s up with you Kook?” Namjoon butts in, earning a fake cough from the receiving end of the insult.

He pauses for a moment before babbling, “I hate those bitches. My mother for one, couldn’t stand wearing clothes whenever she saw a dude. Moving on from guy to guy, unless they’re a fucking asshole. What do they want? Why are they never fucking satisfied?!”

A moment of silence passes among the huddled friends before Yoongi breaks it with a joke, “Who’s the lucky girl?” It doesn’t land as Jungkook deeply sighs in response. “Did she cheat on you?” he tries again.

“No,” he murmurs.

“Then…?”

“She… I don’t fucking know, she gave me the silent treatment. She leaned away from me too,” he shakes his head with a quiet groan, “it just doesn’t add up. I got mad and left.”

“No way that could’ve ended up badly,” Taehyung chuckles but purses his lips when he’s sent another dirty look.  “How long was the interaction anyway?” 

“Like 30 seconds.”

“Are you coming out tonight?” Yoongi asks and puts out the burning tip of his stick. “Could help you feel better.”

“And we’ve got molly,” Namjoon adds.

“Yeah, fine, whatever.”

Alcohol’s effect on a person differs in moods, and Jungkook is usually a horny drunk. Being a sad drunk is a first for him tonight, but he’s just so confused. It made his heart drop when you outwardly refused his advances and anxiety blossomed in his chest, which he has no idea how to deal with. It kicked in fight or flight instincts, and he just… hated the idea of you not loving him, even if it’s momentary. He can’t bear staying in a situation that makes him feel so insecure, and that feeling is supposed to be left in his childhood. You just about brought out the worst in him without doing anything. 

You didn’t do anything.

It’s 10PM and he’s waiting on your usual good night text that he never responds to. It’s so pathetic, and he hates himself for being so used to your affection that it worries him when he’s deprived of it. He’s never doubted your love for him, but his insecurities are churning his gut. It’s an overflow of all of his pent-up emotions, and he can’t handle it.

“Here,” Taehyung pops in out of nowhere, clutching a pill in his hand. There’s a bottle of water in the other as he holds them out for Jungkook to take. “Stop moping and get laid.”

“I’d say the same to you, but you’d probably start crying during sex,” he mumbles and uncaps the bottle before throwing in the pill and washing it down with the water. “Thanks.”

“See that girl over there?” he ignores him and steps behind his miserable friend to point at the owner of the sultry gaze directed at Jungkook from the bar. “She wants to fuck you. Or maybe me, but I’m passing her onto you.”

“How kind of you,” he sarcastically replies.

“Uh-uh, so you’re gonna be in ecstasy in about 10 minutes. Don’t fuck this up.” He slaps his shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen. It’s a lonesome party because not a lot of people are allowed in when drugs are involved. Causing a ruckus, receiving a noise complaint and then getting arrested is out of the question. 

He isn’t interested in sex with a stranger - not today at least -, but he hopes for it to change as he waits to approach her. Maybe drugs will rile him up enough to have fun with someone else and rid his mind of you. It’s an annoying itch on his brain, so he rests his head against the couch to comfort himself with the soft fabric. He’s sleepy from the beer he drank earlier, and he doesn’t know how time goes by so fast when he closes his eyes.

A few minutes must have passed, because he’s starting to feel dizzy in his seat. A smile carves on his face as his mind grows slightly fogged, and he opens his eyes to find the girl quietly chatting with a friend. When she glances at him, he beckons her to come over. She mouths a “be right back” to her friend before strutting in his direction.

“Hey,” she smiles down at him before sitting on the couch. She’s aristocratic, chic and pretty. “Sorry if I weirded you out earlier.” Her voice is sweet like honey, and her words flow out of her tongue so naturally. A dream girl, really, and Jungkook is starting to get horny.

“I don’t mind,” he reassures with a subtle seductive tone, “what’s a girl like you doing with this crowd? You look too innocent.” He wraps a finger around a strand of her hair and twirls it. It feels strange.

“My friend sent me here, told me to watch over someone,” she lowly speaks. “I’m Soyeon.”

“Nice to meet you, Soyeon,” he breathes before crashing her lips with his. His hand reaches down to grip her thigh, tongue poking out to swipe the sticky gloss. It’s flavored, and it tastes of strawberry. When she kisses him back so slowly, innocently, it turns him on so much. His pants feel tight around his crotch as he runs another hand through her soft hair. Compared to him, she’s passionate whereas he’s sloppy. He’s starting to get dizzier, and it feels so fucking good, but he hates it.

There is not a single reason for him to not enjoy this, not when his mood is lifting so high. The hand on her thigh lands on her cleavage instead and she’s so submissive and shy, but something’s off. He groans into her mouth before biting her lip, ripping a whine out of her. Why does she sound so sexy and annoying?  

He pulls away from her before sighing in irritation. “Fuck, I can’t do this.” 

“Did I do something wrong?” she asks worriedly.

“No, just, fuck.” He starts laughing before rubbing his palms on his eyes, “I really want to fuck, but I just can’t.”

“We can just chat,” she softly suggests. “What’s your name?”

“Jungkook.”

He removes his hands from his face when she goes silent. Her eyes are wide and she’s gaping at him… guiltily? “Crap,” she hisses quietly, “I was supposed to make sure you were okay. My roommate is like, super in love with you and asked me to come here.”

He says your name in a question, wondering if it’s you. When she nods, he asks for your dorm instantly.

“She’s in room 124… Why?”

When he stands up, there’s a sway in his posture but he recovers quickly. There’s an involuntary grin on his face as he thanks her ignorantly. He’s out of the villa in a rush, and he has the overwhelming urge to just run. The campus is a bit far away from the house, but he doesn’t care as his footfalls echo in the dark streets. He has so much energy to waste, and with his current stamina, he’s confident he’ll find you before dawn. It’s stupid but it’s fun, and he doesn’t care for catching his breath as the corner stores pass by him in a blur. 

Throughout the two hours of his reckless jog, where he mixed up directions multiple times, his mind is starting to clear up little by little. He’s happy because of what Soyeon told him, and he feels relieved upon seeing the familiar college building. He’s not allowed in dorms at this time, but he’s done this too many times to get caught. Except he was drunk in those instances, and being on MDMA was different. Sneaking past security was tough because he couldn’t bring himself to tiptoe without making so much noise. When they glanced at him, he thought it to be the only choice to just run past them. He’s in the elevator by the time they catch on, and the numbers look wonky in his eyes but he presses the button for the right floor. 

He’s shifting his weight repeatedly in an attempt to contain his excitement; he wants to see you so bad. The moment he hears the ding of the elevator, he’s running past the halls and stops upon seeing 124. He has to squint, but he knows this is your dorm. 

You wake up with a silent gasp when there’s a pound on the door. You clutch your sheets in fear until someone starts to sing your name. “Jungkook?” you mouth to yourself. You stand up and look through the peephole and there’s a man on the other side who’s bouncing on his feet impatiently.

“Open up,” he sings loudly. You’re worried when you swing the door open and yank him inside so he doesn’t wake up any other students. You try to talk but only a wheeze comes out, so you switch on the light to see him instead. The brightness hurts your eyes as you close them for a few seconds. “Well, well, well, look who we have here…”

He starts to circle around you slowly and stumbles behind you. “Sending people to spy on me after rejecting me like that.” His words are slightly slurred and you turn around to face him with a pout. You point at your throat to give him a hint, but his eyes don’t waver from your pleading ones. “What are your intentions, huh?” he weakly pushes you, “Sending me mixed signals. Who- who do you think you are?”

You hold his hands and place them on your neck, trying to communicate with him by mouthing, “I’m sick,” but he only chuckles. He seems sickeningly joyous, but he’s not over his anger. “Still not going to talk to me? What did I even do?”

You deeply inhale from your nose because he’s not paying attention to you. You’re frustrated with yourself until he yells, “WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME?” The surge of serotonin, his state of euphoria is crashing down on him the more you ignore him. He had believed the drug would only make him happy, but it intensified his sadness and anxiety just as much when he saw you. It helped him forget you in a social circle, but you confused him so much after he was reassured for so long - coupled with your silence, he’s raging.

“Why are you ignoring me?! What did I do that was so bad that you can’t bear talking to me anymore? You told me you loved me, please,” he chokes and tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “I-I’ll make it up to you, I’m so sad right now. Just say something…”

You’re watching him in shock and a hint of fear from his fluctuating mood. You want to cry at how pitiful he looks, but instead you aim to grab a piece of paper from your bedside table. He misreads your actions and pushes you against the wall. “Stop this. Stop!” He has your arms pinned and he’s trying so hard to intimidate you so you give in. A dry sob leaves you because he's going mad, but then he has a sudden epiphany. “Maybe you’ll love me again if I fuck you hard enough and engrave it in your brain that you’re mine. Yes, yes!”

He starts unbuckling his belt and you immediately try to stop him; he’ll get sick! He shoves you again and pulls down his jeans before mashing his mouth against yours. All of your efforts have gone to waste when his tongue forces its way down your throat. There’s no point to denying him now, so you hesitantly kiss him back. You’re so guilty, and he’s so careless as he roughly pushes his hand down your white cotton shorts. You’re wearing a navy blue sweater to match so you don’t get cold in the night, but the shorts are meant to prevent a fever. What’s the point now, then? He hasn’t even read your texts that you only remembered to send before sleeping. He missed a whole paragraph of your explanation and confronted you so angrily.

“I’m going to fuck you all night,” he growls against your lips, “then you’ll remember how much you love me.” Your moans are quiet and hitched as he presses down on your clit through your panties. His other hand is on his cock as he strokes it eagerly, ready to get inside you. “I missed you so fucking much in one day,” he whispers in a croak. Hearing it makes you feel even warmer inside as you nudge his hand to urge him to enter you. “You missed me too, huh?” he takes notice of your neediness. “Shouldn’t have fucking brought it upon yourself then.”

He removes his hand from your shorts and taps your thighs before demanding, “Jump.” You bite your lip in consideration until he taps them harder and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist. Your shorts are relatively short, resembling loose boxers, so when your back is pressed against the wall he only pushes them and your underwear to the side before thrusting into you. A scream gets caught in your throat, and you forget all about your aches as he roughly fucks into you without caring for protection or lube. It stings only slightly, but the pleasure in feeling so full of him outweighs the pain.

Jungkook is moaning and groaning as he bruises your thighs in his hold. Your panting is all he can catch, and though the feeling of you is an amplified sensation because of the drug coursing in his system, he wants to hear you chant his name as well. “Still quiet?” he tuts and carries you to your narrow bed and you cling onto his shoulder while trying to catch your breath after the sudden attack. “Your cunt is throbbing though,” he says as he pulls out of you and drops you on the bed. He manhandles you by flipping you on your stomach and holds up your ass. He finally takes off your bottom clothing, but he’s slightly dizzy as he yanks them off your ankles. He spreads your thighs apart and you’re on your knees with your head against the mattress. “I wonder why that is,” he says before slapping your pussy, making you whimper quietly. “So wet, yet you don’t even make a sound. Some whore you are.” You purse your lips and muster a whine, but it’s interrupted when he pistons his cock inside you without warning. Your sounds are hoarse as he pounds into you from the back, hands kneading your ass to the shape of his hands. He gives it a spank as he moans loudly; the new position makes it feel so much more intense, and Jungkook loves it. His ears finally get to hear your pathetic mewls as he thrusts so deeply inside you that your vision blurs with tears and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You feel like a doll that can’t speak or move, and he’s evidently enjoying it going by his rushed pace. You’re challenging him with your silence, and he loves proving himself.

All of a sudden however, he stops moving. You look behind you with a pout and he quirks a brow at you. You grit your teeth because you know he's waiting for you to tell him to continue, or rather daring you to do something. A sudden surge of confidence overcomes you and you gently slam your hips against his, fucking yourself on his cock with your eyes screwed shut.

“Yes, baby,” he strains, “show me that you're still my good girl.” At his encouragement, you meet his thrusts faster and you're seeing stars at how amazing it feels. You want to be his good girl so bad, and you arch your back to savour the pleasure. “Your pussy is mine, all mine,” he affirms to himself and stills your hips to turn you around without removing his length. His fingers are digging into your flesh and your tits bounce under the fabric as he rams into you restlessly. Your mouth is open in a silent scream and he can barely make out your pupils, the whites of your eyes stirring his climax at how attractive you look under the poor lighting. “I love you so fucking much,” he cries, “say it back, baby.”

You try to, but you can only dryly cough. “You fucking bitch,” he hisses at your defiance and pulls out of you to pump his length. He’s close to his release, and he pushes up your sweater to see your hard nipples that make him salivate. He crawls to slide his cock between the valley of your breasts and it hurts when he harshly pushes them together. “Stick out your tongue,” he commands in a whisper, and you do so while panting like a dog. Every time he thrusts upwards, the tip of his head grazes your tongue and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s massaging your tits as he stutters between whines, and eventually his load spurts out to land on your chest and cheek with a particularly loud groan. His cum surges down his shaft as he rides out his high with the last slow thrusts. 

“Oh fuck,” he sighs airily and collapses next to you in the tiny space available. You clumsily turn on your side to give him more room and he pecks your swollen lips. He zips his pants back up and you’re still naked from the waist down. You’re staring at each other adoringly in the romantic, fragile atmosphere; another first.

“I love you,” you croak finally. It’s quieter than a whisper, and it makes you cringe at how hideous you sound; it’s painful as well.

His face lights up once he registers your words before noticing the tone. “What happened to your voice?”

“Sick.” You can’t bring yourself to say anything more as you snuggle into his side and he instinctively wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Shit,” he murmurs, “why didn’t you tell me that sooner, idiot?”

You slap a hand on his front pocket where his phone is, and he hastily takes it out to see a bunch of notifications from you. “You sent it at night, you’re still the idiot.” You giggle and roll your eyes. “A promise is a promise, though,” he purrs before cupping your bare heat. “I did say I would fuck you all night.” You widen your eyes when his head lowers down to face your sopping wet cunt, and he slowly licks up a stripe over your soaked folds, making you shudder and grip his hair. He’s leaving kitty licks all over your sensitivity, the tip of his tongue lightly brushing against your clit every now and then. Your hips lift involuntarily, and he finally takes your clit in his mouth and sucks on it loudly. He slurps your arousal before spitting it back on your hood, and you can only squeak in response. Your hazed mind only tells you that you want more, and he doesn’t fail to provide.

Two fingers enter your clenching hole, and he’s scissoring your walls as he messily eats you out. The pleasure from earlier returns all too soon and you know you won’t be able to last long. His lids are hooded when you glance down at him and the way he’s looking at you makes it even harder to resist your orgasm. The knot in your stomach picks back up right before unraveling and your moan is raspy as you start twitching under his relentless mouth. He grows gentle and leaves kisses all over your vulva until your body falls limp on the sheets.

After another round of penetrative sex, the two of you fall asleep from exhaustion in your bed. It’s a first for the both of you, and Jungkook decides in his drunken mind that tonight won’t be the last. It feels so intimate when he cuddles you, and you won’t ever forget his love confession.

The next morning is not so pleasant however, as Jungkook wakes up with a loud sneeze and in his now nasal voice says, “God fucking damn it.”

[vinnygordon]

This has absolutely been done before but it's been years I've had this in I need it out.

Ok so I had three things:

L&c are the owners

L&C are the animatronics

And L&C being agents there.

I have a lot for all three so I'm just going to do one if anyone wants more I will. Not likely I will do later anyway.

Now let's go with the agents cause that's more interesting.

Fnaf 1 location. The Problem isn't bad in any other country but them getting a call from America to say they have ghosts and heard lockwod and co are the most respectable at this with actual real cases (and the like one of few agencies that are willing to go other countries) they're surprised.

Initially they want to decline but they're offered a lot of money from a guy they've never met but the money ent through their account, half, to get there. All questions are explained over the phone. And that was it.

So with another half of money they cannot refuse they go, the entiegang, for a few weeks.

When they're there it's early morning, so of course spend a bit to adjust and find places an such.

Then while in the pizzeria...

They arrive quite early, being told the events happen from about 12-6 so getting there for 7 could be useful especially with early readings.

Kipps is shaking out his boots he may as well shit himself. George is off researching. They don't get much.. not expected to. Par the intense feeling of always being watched. Doesn't help you don't really get regular animatronics in England especially not in this world so they're so creeped out.

The skull is absolutely scared and that's saying something, he tastes their anger even when it's so bright in the place. Lucy hears such such faint whispering.

As it turns night they get a lot more... Lockwood finding intensely bright desthglows in the backrooms he psychically cannot be in that room. George finds the newspapers but they're blocked out in spots which is weird. Can't find the original.

Things keep changing... Posters change, hats move... They think it's a poltergeist but even after drenching the backrooms in salt nothing changes.

As it approaches 12, Lucy hears giggling and the whispering louder. Save them save him.

Then bonnie moves... Lockwood slashes his rapier but it barely does anything to the big animatrini that's lunging at them twitching and glitchjng. Lockwood shouts to fall back and they go into the office and close the door as bonnie bangs on it... The groans of death and final breath can be hard by EVERYONE.....

They can't even leave the office despite being all cramped because chica and bonnie lurk there.

When 6am drops the animatronics look normal and walk back... Acting like nothing.

Next night is when action is done. They bolt down the feet of all 4 animatronics and turn their power off. They just think they're being used like a puppet (ha) and not the source I mean how could it be? But that night the same happens... And Lockwood nearly gets his eyes caught in Foxys hook....

Lockwood gets frustrated he can't do anything. He talks about tearing them apart to see what's going on... And that's when he gets hallusinatons.. he freaks out as it's like burned into his brain he can't understand it what is this?

Eh I'll stop here imma go bed so enjoy cliffhanger ig

[sylvanfreckles]

TW for some pretty hurtful ableism....

I have this doctor. She's fucking awful. She asks the same questions multiple times each visit, so it feels like she's either not paying attention or thinks I'm lying and is trying to catch me (I'm not lying, I still don't get up in the middle of the night to urinate, stop fucking asking me that, why the hell would I lie?).

Anyway, she put me on this blood pressure medicine last year that made me start losing my vision. Thankfully I recovered once I changed medications. She's also obsessed with this idea that I'm just gonna have diabetes one of these days, even though I've never even been pre-diabetic. The only time they did the lancet test in the office my blood sugar was literally perfect.

Sorry, back to the story. I had to go in for a checkup on Tuesday because she was refusing to refill my blood pressure medicine without it. I happened to roll my ankle on Sunday and it's getting better, but I went in on crutches because I knew there would be a lot of walking and standing. She absolutely OBSESSED over my ankle, tried to order x-rays, made me take printouts for ankle exercises, acted like I was making a huge mistake for not getting an x-ray for a fucking strained tendon. I've had this before. Tendons don't show up on x-rays. And I can't afford it. My insurance will cover basic lab work, but not random x-rays. My insurance sucks.

At the end of the appointment, since we'd been talking about pain and walking, I finally worked up the courage to ask her about something. My place of employment won't let me have a wheelchair without a doctor's note (I don't need one all the time, but days when I'm in severe pain or limited mobility would go a lot smoother with one). I figured hey, I'm in pain, doctors help you with pain, surely she'll laugh off needing a note and just write one so I can have the help I need.

Oh no.

She looked me dead in the eye and said "So you're asking to be wheelchair-bound?"

And then the lecture. How our bodies will adjust if we're in a wheelchair to be completely sedentary. How it doesn't actually help us, it just makes us dependent on the wheelchair.

And just...I broke down. I just wanted something to make it hurt less. I wasn't asking for one all the time, I wasn't even asking for a handicap sticker for my car...just a note that I can have a wheelchair on bad days.

The only good thing that came out of this was that she decided I must have fibromyalgia, so at least someone finally put it in my file.

Then she put me on gabapentin, so I have no idea if I'll ever have the energy for anything ever again. It's been twenty-four hours since I started and I'm still so tired and dizzy I can barely walk from my couch to the bathroom.

I just wanted a little help. I don't think I've really stopped crying since.

[tundrainafrica]

Have you ever feel like love is not healthy for you?

I always have this kind of problem everytime I'm in a relationship. Well, not only when I'm in a relationship, but everytime I'm in love with real-life men. I have been single for 4 or 5 years because of this. I feel like I lose myself everytime I love someone. I don't know why, it's not like the relationship itself is unhealthy. It's just me and my mind that make some trouble, so i ended up break up everytime I feel like I can't take it anymore eventho I'm still in love. I hate it so much, I kind of scared of having a relationship now.

Anyway, I usually have a chill personality, but I change to this drama queen, that I don't even know who everytime I'm in a relationship. So... yeah, I don't know anymore:( I want to feel loved and I want to love someone. But, it's just scary...

Thanks for sharing anon!

Have you ever feel like love is not healthy for you?

Just my take on relationships.

Personally, I get very uncomfortable when I see relationships or discussions with no dissenting opinion. I know it's not necessarily a bad thing but I tend to think that when people are constantly in a state of agreeing that the power dynamics might be a little skewed. Someone is adjusting more than they should because I personally think it's completely impossible or just very rare to have a group of people where everyone just agrees.

Similarly for romantic relationships.

If there is no conflict, it ain’t love. Cause like how do you know you even love someone if you haven’t even seen their worst yet?

I feel like I lose myself everytime I love someone. I don't know why, it's not like the relationship itself is unhealthy. It's just me and my mind that make some trouble, so i ended up break up everytime I feel like I can't take it anymore eventho I'm still in love

Like 80% of the people I know change into some drama queen when they get into a relationship which was one reason I was so terrified of getting into a relationship in the first place roo. I've seen people I didn't know were capable of being mean suddenly being assholes to their SOs.

I broke off a few friendships over this because some people I know have turned into horrible people in relaionships.

I'm not a psych major but this is my suspicion about why exactly this happens. You end up in a relationship and in the relationship, someone usually ends up in a situation where they will do 'anything' for the other. Like take major detours just to pick them up, save up for really nice presents for them and just act like an emotional crutch when things go back. And sometimes even a lot more crazy things than that.

The one who's constantly receiving suddenly thinks theyre hot shit since someone loves them THAT much to do all that. Love has always been a two way street though. The very unbalanced give and take has never lasted last long with anyone in my experience.

Is it a bad thing to be needy and demanding? I personally don't think so if we consider why people tend to be needy and demanding in the first place. But there are people who do stuff in relationships I personally do not agree with. They do them in the name of love... which apparently is beneficial to them? But I wouldn't do them on principle and I definitely wouldn't get into a relationship which practices certain things I do not agree with.

I think this applies to all situations but people should constantly keep themselves in check. Like regularly do a reality check and if people have criticism, weigh them, reflect on them, especially if it's from someone you're close too.

I probably did turn into a monster too when I first got into a relationship, but I think one thing which really helped keep my relationship in check is to keep the communication lines open on whatever relationship I get into, whether it be a close friendship or a romantic relationship.

And about losing yourself when you love somoene?

People lose a part of themselves everyday because no one can be everything at once. So when you make big moves, when you lose relationships, start new ones, when you change your course, sttart a new hobby, get into a relationship, get out of it, you're constantly losing a part of yourself.

People are constantly changing everyday anyway so I wouldn't be too worried about you changing in a relationship or anyone changing in a relationship. What is incredibly worrying for me is people changing for the worst, not for the better.

And as always, four things which I find deal breakers in all situations: physical abuse, constant lying/betrayal, shitty financial management and an utter refusal to continue changing for the better.

Watch for those. I personally feel like these are the flaws which MUST MUST MUST be worked on and cannot just be chalked up as a quirk.

[myherodreaming]

Okay sooooo Todoroki , Tamaki and Shinsou when starting a family. Like fron being told that they are going to be dads to the moment the baby says its first words ? They all are going to have girls and Todo has twins because I'm weak to the knees with that hc. Sorry for bothering you

Omg no, it’s not a bother at all!!!! Dad AU is like my favorite thing of all time, I live for it tbh! And I also got your ask about writing for Mirio instead Shinsou, and I can definitely do that, no worries, it’s really sweet that you took the time to do that, I appreciate it ^^ When I start writing for Shinsou I’ll be sure to let you guys know! (Also - I’m not going to name the kids bc I suck at that, sorry!)

-

TODOROKI SHOUTO

For Shouto, even deciding to take the next step forward in your relationship was huge for him - fatherhood has a different weight for him than it might for someone else. He just knows that when he becomes a father he wants to do the best thing for his child(ren) and be the father he wishes he could have had.

So when you tell him that you’re pregnant, it’s a Big Deal to him. He immediately gets a little teary-eyed and holds you soooo tight. He just buries his face in your neck and murmurs, “I’m going to be a dad.” When he kisses you, you’re both smiling into the kiss.

He’s thrilled, but also super aware of the responsibility it is. From day one he does not take it lightly. He is reading up on everything about taking care of babies and making sure that everything is ready for when the baby comes.

He is the most caring when it comes to morning sickness or any other discomfort you might be feeling - he will do whatever he has to do to make things easier for you.

He pays special attention to your stomach nearly every night, talking softly and promising that he’ll do his best as a dad and saying how much he already loves him/her.

And then you find out that it’s actually TWINS and he is SHOOK - in his mind this kinda changes everything. He was mentally prepared for one baby, but not quite two so it takes a short adjustment period.

But the two of you talk it out and formulate plans for financially and logistically taking care of two babies, and it puts both of you really at ease again, and honestly he just starts to get excited that now there will be two babies to love, and that can’t be so bad, right?

And before he knows it, you’re calling him to say “This is it, it’s happening, I’m in labor *general panic ensues*” so naturally, he rushes home and takes you to the hospital, and he wants to freak out too, but he keeps a calm face hoping it will help you to stop panicking so much, he hates seeing you like this.

He holds your hand the whole time, lets you scream at him, and prays you don’t break any of his bones (you have quite the grip, it turns out)

But all of that is forgotten when you both hear first one, and then another cry, and when the nurse sets the babies on your chest for you to have a look at them, Shouto peers down too, and he is instantly in love in a way he hadn’t realized was possible.

You and your two beautiful, perfect baby girls are suddenly everything in the world to him. He looks at you with wonder in his eyes and presses one soft kiss after another to your lips, then ever so gently kisses each tiny forehead.

The two of you pass the babies back and forth and coo at them and just look down at their tiny scrunchy faces in awe - you can hardly believe this is real, it all feels like a dream. Finally the nurses come to take the babies away so you can have a bit of a chance to rest and you suddenly realize how tired you are.

Shouto spends the entire night in the hard, uncomfortable chair by your bed, and every so often he’ll just reach out to brush the hair away from your sleeping face. He just loves you and your daughters so much.

Life with two babies is hard. It definitely takes some time to work out the best way to take care of them both, but somehow, the two of you do it. You make a great team, and that’s especially evident now. 

He’s such a caring, attentive father - he wants to make sure each and every need is met and that both of your girls get plenty of love. He’s always kissing their chubby cheeks and blowing raspberries on their stomachs to see them giggle. It’s heartwarming to watch.

They both say their first word on the same day - one is “kitty” because she’s obsessed with your cat, and the other is “Daddy” (he’s gonna pay for that later but he’s so over the moon he doesn’t even care)

Bottom line, sometimes he worries whether he’s really the best father he can be for your girls, but you’re always the one to assure him that he’s doing the best you could possibly hope for and you wouldn’t change a single thing about your life right now.

AMAJIKI TAMAKI

It shouldn’t come as much of a surprise to Tamaki that you’re pregnant, because the two of you have been hoping for a baby for a while now, but you know your husband and so you know that you have to tell him as gently and carefully as possible because you know he’ll still freak out.

You take his hands and smile at him, and he can tell something is up so oh god he’s getting nervous already, but your soft voice calms him like it always does. “Tamaki, I took a test today. I’m pregnant.” And he’s just... blink. blink. realization. When it hits him, his eyes go so wide, and he covers his face with his hands and leans into you.

You wrap your arms around him and ask if he’s okay, and he finally takes his hands away from his face so he can hold you close and murmurs, “I’m just so happy.”

And he is - he’s absolutely over the moon, nothing can ruin his high. Whenever he’s cuddling you, his hands are always at your belly, giving it feather-light touches as he talks softly to your baby. 

Your morning sickness does make him a bit nervous, and he’s always there to rub your back and make sure you’re okay, he wonders if you should stop working now and you just laugh - you’re on desk duty anyway, you’d go crazy if you stopped working with 7 months of your pregnancy to go.

He’s always asking you how you’re feeling and doing everything he possibly can to ease your workload at home. He takes on most of the work in the nursery because there’s no way he’ll let you be around the paint or the heavy lifting involved in assembling all the furniture.

The closer it gets to your due date, the more worried he gets about all the things that could potentially go wrong, and you end up having to reassure him a lot.

When the day comes, he’s a MESS. He feels like he’s floundering around while you’re the one taking charge which just makes him feel worse, but he gets you to the hospital and he refuses to leave your side the whole time despite the urge to puke which never quite leaves him - he knows you’re going through much, much worse. He keeps talking to you, and finally it’s over.

When I tell you he cried when he saw your daughter for the first time - he took one look at the little tiny face and the teeny pointed ears and just lost it. Part of him wanted to curl up into a little ball to process all of this, but that would mean he had to take his eyes off of you and his daughter and that is one thing he will not do.

He gives you a very salty, wet kiss before he settles in next to you, half-sitting on the bed so he can get the best view possible of this impossibly tiny little human that was created by the two of you. He doesn’t even know how long the two of you spend, just looking down at her.

He doesn’t even care about any hospital rules or whatever, he just crawls into the bed next to you as soon as the nurse leaves, and cuddles up to you, telling you to sleep now because you’ve had a long day and you deserve it. Meanwhile he just lays there with you in his arms and thinks about you and your daughter.

He is the sweetest Dad ever. He always makes time for her, even when he has to go back to work he talks to her and kisses her little face and helps you out as much as he can.

HE IS SO PROUD OF HIS DAUGHTER. He wants to show her off to everyone. He cannot get enough of her.

Her first word is some form of the word “butterfly” because he points one out to her whenever he sees one and one day she saw it first and pointed to it and tried to say “butterfly” and his heart exploded in his chest, rip Tamaki.

He tells you every chance he gets how happy he is, and how he wouldn’t trade his life for anything.

TOGATA MIRIO

(Have you seen Mirio with Eri? SWOON, he’s going to be the best dad EVER)

The two of you have spent so much time with Eri that it isn’t long after you’re married that you decide to have a child of your own. It just seems like the natural next step. 

The two of you are sitting there side by side waiting for the test results, and you’re practically shaking in anticipation, he has his arm around you to keep you calm - but you snatch up the test the moment the timer is up and when you see the positive result you both SCREAM.

He is cheering and spinning you around, he is so excited to take this next step with you because he can’t wait to watch you be a mom to your child. Then he sets you down very carefully because he’s remembered that there’s a baby inside of you and he wants to be gentle.

He is the one kissing your stomach at every opportunity, telling the baby how much he loves it and how excited he is to meet it. He has full blown conversations with your stomach, which makes you laugh, but you can’t helping feeling all warm inside when you think about what a great dad he’s going to be.

He is right there every step of the way, helping you out with whatever you need and taking care of anything that he can so you don’t have to. He just wants to make life as easy for you as possible since you are growing an entire human being.

He goes all out with the nursery, making sure that your baby has the best of the best in everything, and as many toys as possible. The room is stuffed to the max, you can hardly move in it.

You wake up in the middle of the night and realize that this is happening so you shake him awake, and he immediately sits straight up - he practically carries you all the way to the hospital (you have to remind him that cars exist)

Once you’re there, he’s right by your side, chanting as much encouragement as he can at you and insisting that you squeeze his hand as hard as you need to. Seeing you in so much pain is very hard for him, he nearly cries (and it’s totally not because you’ve just crushed his hand), but soon enough it’s over.

When he sees your little girl for the first time, it’s all over for him. He’s absolutely smitten. He just wants to hold the both of you in his arms forever. He alternates between kissing each of your foreheads, saying “I love you” over and over again.

It feels like the two of you are in your own little world, floating on a cloud of happiness. Even with all of the struggles that come with taking care of a baby, you face everything together, and your little girl makes it all so worth it.

She’s so cheerful and happy all the time, the sound of her laughter makes Mirio’s heart practically beat out of his chest. Making her laugh is his new single mission in life.

Now, you know that Eri is absolutely smitten with her. She sees her as much as possible, always playing with her and making her giggle. So when her first word is “Eri”, it doesn’t really come as a surprise, but it sure stings a little. She’s so cute when she says it, though, that it passes quickly.

Mirio is just BIG HAPPY. He couldn’t ask for a better life or family, and he makes sure that he tells you that every day.

[wolf-stark]

You ask I deliver — both tfatws asks in one!

tfatws weekly ask 1

i finally saw ep1!! i wont be able to see ep2 until thursday at the earliest but i already have some Thots on this ep. here are the ones I remember

first is, and i'm so sorry for this, a grammar lesson. an appositive is when you stick an additional phrase in between commas, dashes, or the like. i actually just used one! the "and i'm so sorry for this" in the first sentence of this paragraph is an appositive. thing is, most english speakers don't normally use them when they speak, only in writing. so i'm always on high alert whenever i hear somebody in tv or movies use one. (it's generally a marker of bad screenwriting). anyway there was one right in the beginning of the episode. the white army guy yelling at sam wilson said "first lieutenant Torres, our intel officer, will be helping on the ground." yeah so. the writing of this series started out on the wrong foot for me. but the rest of the episode was obviously tons and tons better (every interview i see with malcolm spellman makes me love him more and more)

the contrast between the opening minutes (falcon action sequence) and the rest of the ep.... i would 100000/10 rather watch a series with just sam and bucky dealing with life. i dont give a single crap about the flag-smashers or any of that. i just want sam, sarah & fam getting their boating business back on the ground & yeeting racist dickwads, bucky going through therapy and making amends, sam and joaquin being bros, sambucky homoerotic tension, etc.

the cinnamontography! wandavision mostly used cinematography to signify era n stuff. tfatws doesn't have wv's premise to go off of, so here's some tricks i noticed:

with sam there's obviously all sorts of shots with the captain america iconography next to his face, but he hasn't totally claimed it. there's the mural of steve rogers in the background; there's sam staring into the shield like it's a spectre of steve's face; there's sam looking into the exhibit, the shield and sam separated by glass and a layer of camera focus. steve is a constant spectre, always there, an idea, a symbol himself. sam's relationship with this iconography is distanced. he is separated by glass exhibit walls. by painting canvases. he doesn't yet feel worthy to take on that iconography. this whole thing was pulled off quite well but also a bit on-the-nose if only in quantity. there's just sooooo much fancy iconography stuff

speaking of the exhibit, there's something that i get real pissy about. it's when like, there's an action going on you're supposed to be paying attention to but the cinematographer is like,,,, hey! check out this location! or this headline! or something! there was a lot of that in the exhibit. the camera was like, you could focus on sam and rhodey's convo (which was fine but could have been so much better with an extra like 10 minutes of deep character study talk) but noooo you want me to look at the symbol for the united nations and read all the text about bucky who hasn't even showed up yet. shut up i know the lore and ill watch the shot-by-shot breakdown yt vids you don't have to make the shot this long jkdsalcjklasejf

my fav trick was with bucky and the therapist. i had seen a clip of the scene with bucky and the therapist beforehand and i thought the cinnamontography was super obnoxious, but then i was like, oh duh. the shots frequently change the distance between the camera and its subject. sometimes it's uncomfortably close and sometimes it's really far. a clear allegory for the duality of therapy, esp for bucky! therapy is an invasive process wherein he is ruthlessly examined, picked apart, and berated for his trauma (this therapist is crap in every way btw, "mean therapist" works for greg house and greg house only). so the camera goes close. it makes the viewer claustrophobic like bucky. but when he's like "no i haven't had any nightmares" the camera suddenly goes really far. we see bucky as this tiny head in the center of the bottom of the frame. we are distanced from him. he has pushed us away. we cannot see him. he lies because he is vulnerable. so yeah, amazing work there. the therapy scene was hard to watch on purpose!

did bucky slip a note to yori inside the dollar bill? bucky stop making me emooooo. the suuper awkward fake smile has me 😭 (veteran trying to adjust!)

mark my worrrrds when sam asks someone y the govt picked john “white bread” walker they’re gonna say “we needed somebody everyone can get behind....someone uncontroversial, someone everyone can see themselves in” like that exact racist dog whistle

tfatws weekly ask 2

just saw ep2 so im taking advantage of the 2 seconds i can be on tumblr without worrying about tfatws spoilers before new episode drops

when isaiah said "your people put me in prison for being a hero" and bucky thought "your people" means hydra. 🤦‍♂️

speaking of racism, the interplay between sam being Black (anti-Black racism) and sam being the Falcon (negrophilia, "can i take a selfie w you as i deny you a loan?") and the intersection between the two (j*hn lichrally called sam "steve's wingman"! he takes the crypto out of crypto-racist in like 2 seconds!) !!!!!!!! a Black celebrity's Black experience, the separation of man and identity!!!! (thinking about vanessa bayer in snl in that skit "beyonce is black" telling her black friend "you're not black, you're...my girl!")

after sam gets racially profiled by cops we see j*hn standing in front of cop cars cinematic parallels turns out j*hn is racist who knew

this therapist sucks major ass but she got bucky and sam together in the same room and ready to collaborate...that's something ig. it was lichrally couple's therapy she said she used her miracle exercise with couples sambucky antis get blended

bucky says "he was wrong about you so maybe he was wrong about me"...that's not how people talk. when therapist asks bucky, the guy who doesn't talk at all about himself, "y do you hate sam", the last thing bucky's gonna do is actually connect his hatred of sam to his own self-worth issues. bucky generally refuses to talk about himself, so why would he talk about himself in the one context that nobody ever links back to their own neuroses: hatred of other people? one thing human beings hate most is admitting we're wrong. admitting you hate someone because of your own issues? that's a major therapeutic step. bucky would absolutely have to be prompted to do that. even like one or two lines of dialogue more would have set up that line better. but in terms of the actual thought? an amazing way to take the sam/bucky relationship. bucky bases his self-worth on steve believing in him, and if steve is wrong bucky has no self-worth, so 1) he has to develop self-worth disassociated from steve's assessment of him and 2) he has to love himself before he can love sam, and 3) he has to realize that sam giving up the shield is a sign of sam's humility not his unworthiness.

conversely, we don't get into why sam hates bucky? yeah sam has the right to hate a guy that has tried to kill him (albeit while brainwashed) multiple times, and now shows up in his life just to bash him but. everything happens so fast i cant follow their relationship

in fact i dont feel like i understood much of anything. like y did bucky and sam go on that mission together? how connected are sam/bucky/joaquin with the government? doesn't bucky just want to retire now? literally what is everyone doing/feeling and why???

if battlestar becomes a knowing commentary on the black best friend stereotype i'm gonna party, but i dont expect much of that

the interplay between man and symbol. captain america is obviously a symbol. the shield is obviously a symbol. but steve rogers? the. man behind the cowl? he too seems to become a symbol. a paragon of a good guy, so good he's unreachable. steve was just a guy stop idolizing him the last thing steve would want is to be idolized

as the resident musician/music nerd on mcublr, 1) that captain america rally music slaps, but 2) re: the song at the end of the ep, if you're just gonna rip off mozart's lacrymosa then at least play mozart's lacrymosa. we wont blame you the lacrymosa slaps (if you dont know what im talking about go on yt and search it up youll recognize it fo sho

look i love enfys nest as much as the next guy but if tfatws is gonna get erin kellyman to play another innocent little gurl blackmailed into the fakeout-villain position (her text seemed to suggest as such) then 😡 like why can't women just....be evil? young, freckly, innocent-looking women? girls are not untouchable pure objects but full of rage and resentment just as much as anyone can be

bonus ep1 comment: bucky says about that senator whose car he hijacked, "she continued to abuse the power i gave her." fictionaldarling on yt say that he says "i" because he can't disassociate himself from his winter soldier persona which begets endless and senseless guilt. like dude. can i not be emo for like 1 second.

OKay. First off, as much I enjoy your sending it to me, what made you decide to send me these??

-

TFATWS WA #1

Don't worry about getting this to me as early as possible. I usually don't watch the episode right away.

1. Cool writing lesson.

2. Everyone wants a comedy show [like Friends] about the MCU superheroes.

3. Cinematography is always a beautiful thing.

4. Sam definitely has to carve his own Captain America status for himself, outside of Steve's ya know everything.

5. They have to do that for people who was just now tuning in because they're in love with Sam Wilson or Sharon Carter.

6. I think the therapist was taking a 'tough love' approach for Bucky, because she likely has some very strong opinions about the literal assassin she's been assigned to give therapy too. She did not choose to talk to him, she was assigned that make that clear in the second episode.

And, Bucky isn't lying when he said it wasn't a nightmare. It wasn't a nightmare, it was a resurfaced memory. So, technically he wasn't lying - and yes, the camera does move away because while he's saying he didn't have a nightmare, he's not expanding on what actually happened - so, he's still pushing the therapist/us away.

7. Bucky, and Steve, have/had a TON to adjust to.

8. Yeah, I agree that will be the bullshit line they give. If they ever actually talk about it.

TFATW WA #2

Yeah, always got to take advantage of avoiding those spoilers lmfaoo.

1. Honestly, that line was double meaning. Both about White people and Hydra [which is made up of mostly white supremacists/nazis] So, the line is gesturing to both White People in general and Hydra assholes together. I think the terminology is “double edge sword”??

2. This whole paragraph structure confused me, ngl - so I'm going to answer it the best I can. I do like that they're not ignoring the fact that Sam being Black is 1000% the reason he's not the Official Captain America - because the gov't is racist as hell.

I also like the little lines about how they point out little things about Sam's Falcon persona, like that kid calling him 'Black Falcon' specifically and Sam's response show the split between Sam and Falcon itself.

John is a dick for calling Sam the wingman of Steve Rogers. Sam was a hero all on his own before Steve asked him to join up again. [Side note, it's lichrally??]

3. Exactly, the parallel of Sam being profiled and surrounded while just on the street and John being surrounded by fans and being able to spring Bucky with apparently only a few sentences shows a Loooooot

4. Honestly, at this point I wonder if she's not actually a therapist and is just an agent assigned to assess Bucky outside of an Official Building. I do know, however, that her 'look at each other and speak' exercise is actually a real therapy practice. It's just a little slower.

5. Actually, I think he would've blurted that out. That whole line. I don't think Bucky hates Sam. I think they could've done the scene better, but I think that had Sam prodded him/the therapist been more annoying Bucky would've lost control of his emotions and blurted out the whole "If he was wrong about you, he was wrong about me" but I feel like the writing for this show is just... not there. Sometimes you blurt shit when you get overemotional and I think that was what Bucky was supposed to be like.

6. I don't think Sam hates Bucky, I think he doesn't trust him though. I do wish they'd talked about that though. The whole 'talk to each other' scene should've been a LOT longer and a LOT slower.

7. Sam and Bucky's relationship is being fast tracked because they don't really know how to work the relationship out, writers-room-wise. Bucky is technically retired, but I feel like he's trying to live up to Steve's expectations and doing what Steve would've done and we all know that if Steve was there, Steve would've jumped on that plane with Sam. It looks like Sam/Bucky/Joaquin are a side-team based from Military services but as Sam says they're all free agents so...?

8. Sadly, They seem to just be propping up to be another stereotype.

9. Captain America is a symbol. Steve Rogers is a man. But now Steve Rogers is an idol because of all the shit he's been through and honestly, it's not a bad thing he's become an idol for people - it's using Steve as a reason to make White Bread Walker the next Captain that makes Steve's idolization so fucked.

10. I don't know anything about music so I have no opinion here, sorry.

11. Enfys?? Also, I think they did the whole Innocent Girl Thing as side commentary for Bucky lowering his guard about seeing a young girl rather than a guy.

12. Bucky is the Winter Solider. The Winter Solider is Bucky. That is how Bucky will always see it because although he was brainwashed, it was still him and he remembers all of it. When you have constant memories of something 'someone else' did, you tend to not be able to pull the two personas out of each other. I want Bucky to take up the title, White Wolf instead of Winter Soldier. Honest.

This is all my opinion, I’m honestly a little disappointed with the writing of TFATWS so far so... I’m not really optimistic about this.

[festivecuriosity]

[October 13, 2020]

♡ Mercury retrograde in Scorpio is happening tonight. I can already feel/see it's influence. It also doesn't help matters that my current household is primarily made up of Scorpios or Plutonian individuals (most of my roommates are "essential workers" like EMTs or caretakers). Brad (the most Scorpio of the house) has called for a rare consideration; that there be silence in the living room (communal space) when he comes home. He's never asked for that before. This feels very symbolic of Mercury Retrograde in Scorpio. A moment of silence in our otherwise very talkative household. Besides that, he's coming home right around the time MRX/Scorpio would be officially beginning.

♤ Identifying omens is part of my practice. It's one of my oldest, foundational, cornerstones of how I communicate with the Universe and my guides. When you notice something (really notice it) to the point that it stands out in your mind and you end up thinking on it all day, it is an "omen". A symbolic representation of the message the Universe is sending you. I was given an omen by the Universe yesterday as to the immediate future/Mercury RX in Scorpio. I was outside (smoking) when I saw a hawk soaring in the air, being pursued by two black crows, and navigating around their assaults. The hawk (personally) represents my spiritual vision/focus/accuracy. The two crows, I believe, represented thoughts that attack my focus. I.e. Huginn and Muninn, thought and memory. Although, Huginn and Muninn are technically ravens. Not crows. I still think the message from the Universe is to tame my PTSD/where my mind goes/stay focused on my goals instead of letting my negative thoughts pick at me.

Also kind of reminds me of the qliphothic sphere/inverted sphere of Netzach. Where the "crows" pick at the beauty of Source. Another reminder to keep my inner criticism from attacking my spiritual focus/my ability to see the beauty in my life and self.

Two other people in the household got omens on the same day as me. One person got a vulture eating roadkill on the side of the road, the other got a brown cricket. Since the vulture means rebirth and ressurection through shadow work, I think the household is going through a transitional phase (what affects one person in the house typically touches all of us). I am not certain on the brown cricket, however. Good luck? What struck me the most about it was that my roommate was trying to catch it...and it always knew when to hop away just in the nick of time.

♧ I've been rearranging/unpacking my boxes from Seattle finally. For a long time now, I've just been living out of boxes, and refusing to do much magic. I didn't even set up my altar when I got all my stuff back from [Redacted abuser]. It's taken awhile to even get myself back to directly communicating with my guides...much less the Universe/Source. Anyways, I'm finally going through my boxes, and setting up an official altar area. When I was getting into my old rock and crystal collection (I was into that stuff way back before I realized how harmful the crystal/gemstone trend is for Earth's environment), I found an old piece of Mookaite that I friend gave me. And I shit you not, the thing physically vibrated in my hand when I touched it.

I've been holding it ever since. Have totally and honestly forgotten all the exact properties of the stones I own. It's been such a long time. I was also practicing "crystal/crystal energy psychicism" when I was homeless as a means to survive the streets so...I'm pretty sure my PTSD is blocking a lot of that information out.

I guess it's time to rediscover crystals again? Not buying any new ones. Just utilizing the ones I already have to the best of my ability. I feel like it was wrong that so many of them were taken from the ground to be pretty baubles for people. I might as well make it worth something by using them to help myself/others/incorporate them into my active life so they hold meaning.

Mookaite feels very grounding and soothing already. It feels like a very receptive stone, inviting energy into it much like organic pearls do. I also notice that it has almost a dream/trance-like affect to it's grounding energy. I think maybe I'll take time to meditate with it tomorrow.

◇ Brad pretty much runs the household that I live in. Further details; I live in a BDSM polycule, Brad is one of the doms. One of Brad's relationships was very close to being homeless recently. While normally, being homeless is... [redacted PTSD disassociating moment] being non-binary and homeless during COVID-19 is even worse. So we took them in. Inevitably, we had to make some major adjustments (about space, because technically we're fitting 9 people in a 2 bedroom house). It's been a test of adaptability through chaos for everyone. One of the major areas of contention is that everything inside the house is getting moved, rearranged, or tossed. And some people (mainly [redacted name]) is absolutely 100% terrible at adapting to change, unless someone is literally dying. Also, while I get that none of this can really be helped, I'm also a bit annoyed by the sudden introduction of someone new.

But even if I'm annoyed by it, I wasn't about to say "no" when Brad told us what was going on. I'm not a monster. I was homeless too and Brad helped me get off the streets. This person, while I don't know them well enough to make a judgement, deserves the same chance that I did to get stable in an era where stability is a pipe dream.

I'm actually not the one having the hardest problem. Surprising, it's the spirit of the house that's having the hardest problem. Our house is an old 1950's model built at the corner of a crossroads. Technically the house kinda exists as a liminal space. And there's so much stuffed inside of it that theoretically anything *could exist* in the house. Sometimes weird shit pops up and then disappears. It's very similar to the Seattle house I lived in when I was with [KILL BILL SIRENS] but has less of a metaphorical underworld cave vibe and more of a Howl's Moving Castle vibe. Anyways, the house itself is having a bad time adjusting to all the change/cleaning that the new roommate is doing...because it keeps hiding and moving (specifically) all the stuff that the new roommate has. They're not a stoner. They have a decently good memory. And I know that nobody in the house would do something like that. Plus, they apparently heard disembodied laughter right after discovering something was missing. The genuis locci (house spirit) is fucking with 'em hard.

I've never seen the genius locci do this before. The worst it ever did to me was hide a really expensive Egyptian cotton pillow case once. It eventually spat it back out after cuddling with it, I imagine. Seriously; Egyptian cotton sheets. Get you some.

So after the 100× time today that the new roommate was swearing about their missing things, I suggested that maybe they need to butter up the genius locci with gifts. Kinda romance the house a bit. Give it something so that it builds a relationship with the spirits that live here. They're a (self-professed) baby witch whose background is Jewish. They mostly excel at kitchen witchery (for now) and incorporating the works and wisdom of the Torah into their life. So they weren't too certain on ritualistic offerings to a house spirit. But with some suggestions from me and listening to their own intuition, they were able to put something quick together. It's nice to see people using magic around the house and learning new skills. And to their benefit, I felt the house chill out a bit after the ritual/gift giving was done.

I have been giving the house/my guides a portion of my nightly tea every now and then. It's honestly nothing fancy but I figure small gifts count for something right?

[bigskydreaming]

Do you think that fics where Dick is in 24/7 Big Brother Mode and his whole existence is to take care of the other kids (which are most of the fics I've read, but I'm not sure how prevalent that trope is or or if those are just the types of fics I click on), are trying to make Dick essentially replace Bruce as a father figure when Bruce can suck a little at it? Not to try to justify that, just curious where the extremes come from, that Dick is either a raging jerk or a super soft caregiver.

Yes and no, I think. 

On the one hand, I definitely think there’s a tendency towards that for that reason, because of this implicit idea in a lot of canon writers and fans that Batman can’t be Batman without emotional and mental health issues. With at the same time, a lot of inadvertent ableism accompanying that, because like….people overlook the fact that like….you can have mental health issues and be bad at various emotional and social interactions and STILL be a good parent, like, they’re not mutually exclusive. I mean, Bruce HAS been a good parent at tons of points in canon, and at no point has anybody said….that is an impostor, that’s not Batman. 

But still, there remains this idea in a lot of times and places, I think, that Bruce is just….resistant to change. That he is who he is, for better and for worse, and that there’s no point in trying to alter his behavior in in character ways, because it either won’t stick, or he for some reason won’t be “Bruce” anymore. 

And this I think is where the tendency to slot Dick into that second parent role comes from. Like, I think that trend is already there to begin with in society, with it functioning that way in a lot of families, where this expectation is placed on eldest children…but then add on top of that this unspoken view I feel a lot of people have, that there’s just no POINT to trying to address where Bruce’s parenting is lacking, because he wouldn’t get it, or whatever….but Dick’s right there, so just have him step up and pick up the slack, even though that shouldn’t remotely be his role or responsibility in the family…

And you’ve got there a recipe for Dick being the super soft caregiver 24/7.

BUT.

Then you have to factor in the Good Dad Bruce Wayne fics, the ones who discount his worst tendencies and canon instances of being abusive or neglectful, because understandably, a lot of fans don’t want to see or have to deal with that in their content when writing Batfam. Its not what they’re here for, they don’t stan an abusive father, so why should they have to write the character in a way that’s fundamentally opposite to what they view as him at his core, the Good Dad that drew them to him in the first place? And they shouldn’t have to! 

No fan should be hampered in writing positive, wholesome Batfamily content simply because a bunch of dumbass edgelords over the years wrote Bruce being abusive to his kids without these canon writers GETTING that they were writing him as being abusive….and so they didn’t address it as such ever, and it continued, or reoccurred.

BUT.

Here’s my issue with how this tends to play out…..because the fics that COMPENSATE for Bruce’s shitty canon parenting or ignore it entirely to focus only on the good parenting in canon or Bruce’s characterization at those periods….

This is where we most often see Dick the raging asshole, who causes strife and conflict in his family, or is too stubborn and hot-tempered when interacting with Good Dad Bruce.

And this is where I get so so frustrated….because they’re ignoring or choosing to disregard Bruce’s worst parenting, which is totally their right….BUT at the same time, making no adjustments for how a LACK of those shitty canon parenting moments would in turn result in vastly different characterization and behavior for Dick too….especially around the times of their greatest canon conflicts.

If you change Bruce’s behavior, or omit the times he’s been a bastard to his kids….BUT you do nothing to change Dick’s behavior in turn….THEN Dick inevitably tends to look like a spoiled selfish asshole….because here’s Bruce being this perfect, doting father….and yet, their conflicts still exist….and those conflicts still have to come from somewhere….enter Dick The Asshole.

I’m ALL FOR changing, addressing or compensating for Bruce’s worst canon writing, in regards to his children. Where people keep losing me is they fail to consider the ripple effects of a Bruce Wayne who never let his children down the ways he has in canon….and thus never would have given Dick in particular cause to have the trust and abandonment issues and anger he has towards Bruce a lot of times. And I say Dick in particular, BECAUSE this is where its so important to acknowledge the way fandom and canon have chosen to willfully disregard a lot of what Bruce has done to him specifically….because it doesn’t fit the narrative of “Dick is the favored son” or whatever reason may be for that.

Like, this isn’t as much of an issue with Jason, for example, because nobody’s overlooking the ending to UTRH or RHATO #25. Nobody’s forgetting to consider that take away Bruce’s shittier writing, and voila….he and Jason have a MUCH better relationship…..because, that’s what we get in Good Dad Bruce Wayne fics. Its a lot of the reason FOR those fics.

In comparison, the unwillingness to engage with things like Bruce hitting Dick and throwing him out after Jason’s death….by being so willing to gloss over that or making this one of the specific things people ignore, but WITHOUT compensating for how the absence of this particular story would in turn affect Dick and his stories…..like look how that breaks down in comparison:

Because in NTT #55, the issue where all that happened….Dick went to see Bruce, to try and console him and grieve with him over Jason…even AFTER Dick had already dealt with the realization that Bruce had made no effort to contact him about what happened and the funeral had been held while Dick was still offworld. So, those were already issues that Dick had acknowledged and been shown willing to put behind him to focus on the bigger picture and be with his dad while they grieved for their brother and son….with Dick, upon Bruce finding him in the Batcave, making NO attempt to start a fight, and clearly expressing that he wanted to be there FOR Bruce, to grieve WITH Bruce.

The only reason it didn’t play out that way, and Dick and Bruce weren’t both in the Manor in the wake of Jason’s death, helping each other cope and move on AS A FAMILY….is because Bruce instead tried to instigate a fight with Dick, hit him, blamed him for Jason’s death, and threw him out.

This is important if ONLY because….this is the ONLY reason Dick - who HAD made an effort to reach out to Bruce and be there for him - WASN’T there, by the time Tim came along. Was the REASON Tim had to come along, and seek Dick out in another city and beg him to come back because Batman needed him.

So see how easily it gets flipped? By refusing to acknowledge or address BRUCE being the one to drive that canon wedge between them there, BUT still making no effort to compensate how the absence of Bruce’s part of NTT #55 would change Dick’s stories and choices….Dick inevitably looks like the one who just…isn’t there for Bruce, makes no effort to be, or just doesn’t care or prioritizes his own anger or guilt or whatever you want to pass that off as. But bottom line is, Dick’s the one inciting conflict, because Bruce has been given a fandom pass on….inciting the conflict. And nobody’s making any effort to factor in that without Bruce hitting Dick and throwing him out…DICK WOULD HAVE BEEN THERE FOR BRUCE AND WITH BRUCE. Like he initially tried to be.

And this is the sort of thing we get in a ton of Good Dad Bruce Wayne fics, even though its the extreme opposite of Caregiver/Substitute Parent Dick Grayson in Bad Dad Bruce Wayne fics.

Its because no matter how much people cite Dick being the heart of the Batfamily…Bruce is still the central pillar everything else revolves around. And the real issue isn’t the extremes for Dick’s character….its the extremes for BRUCE’S character, the sheer scope of the difference between Good Dad Bruce and Bad Dad Bruce…..with everything else rippling out from that.

And Dick, by virtue of being the closest to Bruce in length of history, age, various other ways….will additionally ALWAYS be the one to take the brunt of those ripple effects, for better or worse. Be the most affected, the most changed, by extension of the changes made to Bruce.

Or at least, he SHOULD. Except that’s not how it works out, when people only change Bruce.

So we get all these fics where Bruce is the kind, supportive, understanding dad we WANT him to be, and so choose to write him as….but Dick meanwhile still has his canon Daddy Issues….but now COMPLETELY without cause. When if you think about it, the MORE you change Bruce from his shittier moments in canon, into a better parent, specifically…Dick SHOULD in all respects be perfectly positioned and poised to benefit from that the most….and have a lot of HIS canon issues and insecurities and such….basically negated by Bruce’s positive parenting, in stark contrast to the stories that shaped Dick in so many negative ways.

Le sigh.

Anyway, back to how at the beginning I said yes and no in answer to your question….the no part is that there’s only so much I think its JUST because Dick’s a convenient substitute for parent when Bruce is written as being bad at it in various ways. Part of it I think also just has to do with Dick’s core characterization as being such an empathetic and supporting character for those around him pretty much any time. 

As I’ve mentioned before, there’s a big problem in ALL our media, across the board, with these kinds of character archetypes being taken advantage of for their caregiving tendencies, without reciprocation….because its just in their nature to not demand or make a big deal about not receiving the same care and attention from others in turn……which, if nothing else, saves writers a hell of a lot of story time and space…which they can then devote to even more focus on the characters they’ve chosen to center as more dynamic and essential to the core narrative.

To support my stance on that front…..look at age swap fics in Batfandom. Notice how even in fics where Dick is repositioned to be the ‘baby of the family’ and the one who needs to be protected and cared for…….there’s no real tendency or trend towards making any SPECIFIC one of the older boys responsible for the others in the way Dick is in caregiver/substitute parent type fics? 

Sure, there are a lot of plots about how Damian as the oldest in these fics SHOULD be more responsible for Dick or his younger siblings….but its his failure to do so, specifically, that drives the conflict of a lot of these stories….because in none of them is there ever the implicit understanding that Damian, as the eldest, should be fully capable of stepping in to compensate for Bruce dropping the parenting ball, the way Dick is in the normal dynamics of the family. 

Like, all the age reversal fics I’ve read, yes, all his brothers are shown looking out for Dick at various times and in various ways….but I rarely ever see any single one of them CEMENTED in that stand-in caregiver role, where its EXPECTED of them….the way its frequently expected of Dick in canon.

Because, IMO, there’s this understanding and ACCEPTANCE, that this just isn’t their character type. And rather than address the discrepancies this creates between these fics and ones where Dick is the eldest, per canon, and expected to parent his siblings….people just kinda…roll with it.

And that would be my take on why we so often and so easily see Dick flip-flopped between extremely opposite takes.

[jiwonsssi]

— on the count of three.

prompt:

- Let's take a photo! One, two..

- I'm going to kiss you.

- Three.. What?

characters: Eun Jiwon, 'you';

warnings: slight cursing, slight R-rating.

Jiwon is a really good old friend of yours. Not like 'good', not really 'really', but surely 'old' and sometimes even a 'friend'. Well. Decision of spending an evening together was not quite a bad idea. He started to behave lately, and was a bearable human being, even funny and nice sometimes. You wanted to know what caused those extreme changes, but decided to not to disturb it to not to ruin it.

- And you know what she did? She hid the fact that she stole it! Like, I can't believe..

- But what do you want her to do? Being, like, 'oh, you know what, I stole this, that and that, just saying'? It's bullshit. Use your head before talking, you, - he put a hand on your hair to mess with it while laughing and you just roll your eyes since it was better to not pay attention to his antics rather than fight back. Useless anyways.

Anyways it was a good way of wasting time on watching a movie or drinking or doing God-knows-what. You end up re-watching the first Iron Man for, like, tenth time and by the end of the begging of the film it was only a conversation that was matter.

- Look whos talking, mister I-Say-Shit-Without-Thinking-Since-I-Started-Talking, huh, - but you, being, well, you, continued bickering. Following the easiest path was never a choice. And it's funny to see him frustrated. More like a hobby of yours.

- What? Why are you being so brave tonight? - he looks at you with those angry eyes and you answer with same expression. Because.. well, we already discussed it.

Then you are being pushed to the side by his hand on your shoulder. Seeing his all smiley and mocking 'I am the winner' face while he sips his drink was not pleasant at all, so with a deep sigh and a slight kick on his leg, you stood up to straighten your shirt.

- It's not like I was scared any other day, you know, - he follows your hands with a gaze and nod, taking another sip. And now that was surprising. Because having him checking you out is surely something you have never experienced. Jiwon adjusts his pose and avoids your eyes when you bend a brow.

He's not ashamed; to be honest, you are not entirely sure if he has a clue what shame actually is.

- I know, - and it suddenly awkward. Maybe it just you, but he definitely changed his expression. Now he tries to burn a hole in a TV screen and you just stand there not knowing what to do. Very nice. Just a dream, - I want another bottle of soju. Have some? Bring it.

He didn't even glanced your way. Usual Jiwon is back in town so nothing to worry about.

So you made yourself comfortable on a couch again and took a cup with soju from his hand.

- Help yourself, - you smiled at him with false politeness and nodded to a kitchen, receiving muttered curses and soft 'I didn't want it that much anyways'. You smile, shaking your head.

He's really cute, you just couldn't deny it.

By knowing him for more than a few years now, you got an immunity to all his attacks (almost), so you actually found him adorable mostly. He indeed is. When he's not a moron, he's either a squishy sleepy lost ball or a charismatic rapper and powerful, smart leader. And you even had just a tiny small little micro crush on him before. Well maybe a huge ass crush if being honest. And you even sure that he knew. You were young, naive and inexperienced. Of course he knew. It was obvious.

The thing is, he never took an advantage, even if he had a chance, and it made you respect him at some point. Now it's gone, just a funny memory; yet something is still there. You just preferred to ignore it. God knows why.

- Someone is spamming you with texts and you are too deep into admiring me to notice.

Being slapped in a face? That's how it feels like.

Resume: you stared at him while thinking that you used to have a crush on him while holding a cup near your mouth but not drinking while your telephone kept ringing while he was fully aware of what was happening for God knows how long. Well.. Shit happens, right?

- Was thinking that you need to see a dermatologist.

Maintaining a straight face when you actually had an internal breakdown was not an easy task, but you managed. Now the task is to ignore his smirk. Like hell he would believe. Ugh.

You opened a text from your friend, well, a bunch of texts, from just one tiny friend, to see her asking you repeatedly what were you doing. Lots of unnecessary photos of her face with all the faces she could have manage, surroundings, and similar messages; she is a really close good friend. The only reason for tolerating it.

Still funny sometimes tho.

- C'mon, let's take a picture, - someone need to break the ice now, right? You leaned backwards closer to his face to adjust an angle and put on the dumbest expression you could maintain, - One, two..

- I'm going to kiss you.

- Three.. Wha-

And then his lips are on yours.

There is not a single thought in your mind.

You weren't even able to be surprised.

The kiss is so light; his lips barely touch yours and yet it's so breathtaking. So soft.

No one ever kissed you like that.

You don't want it to end; you will need to talk about it, to sort things out, but for now his hands on your cheeks and you let him deepen the kiss. It's somehow magical now; the atmosphere around you.

Feeling your arms getting weaker by every second, you just lean into him. Into comfort you never knew even exist. His hands reach you neck to gently guide you and you completely surrender. It's impossible to not to.

God, he's amazing. And when you realise that one of your hands is slowly making it's way up his tight, you hear loud crack of the phone hitting a floor.

Perfect timing.

It ends this magic just like that; you open your eyes trying to catch a breath.

And then silence.

Complete silence; just his slightly hitched breath and your heart. You wander if he can hear it.

You wait for him to joke, to be nervous or at least be even slightly surprised. But when you meet his eyes, he's so calm. He looks at you directly with so fucking gentle smile.

You have never seen him smile like that. And you were lucky; he could persued you to do anything by looking that way.

There is only you who look like a deer caught in a headlights, actually. And Jiwon finds it adorable.

His hands never leave your body and now he keeps your head straight for you to look at him; and you just choose to shut your eyes tightly. Causing him to crack and laugh.

You have no idea what to feel now, you just really want to decide later; but the sound of his laugh was never that charming.

You never imagined your heart can beat that fast.

- Look at me, - you just shake your head, realising that one of your hands is now stuck in the air and you, like a complete fool, place it on your knees. And another one, that was on his thight all the time. For fuck's sake, oh God. Still refusing to open your eyes tho.

- No, - voice is like a tiny squeak and he finds it funny again when you feel him caress your neck with his fingers; it's so light and tender you barely notice. But he does it.

Remember fast beating heart? Now it's faster and it seems like a good idea to just die in his arms.

- Please, - he rarely asks this polite and you decide to give him a chance. Since he already kissed you. You are going to face him anyways, it's not like he's planning to fuck off. Not like you want it.

- I broke my phone, - your hands now on his wrists and you find yourself not being able to do what you wanted to do.

He's so warm. You can feel it. You can feel his pulse under your fungertips. So calm.

It's impossible to look at him now.

- I know, - he's a lot closer now; voice is barely audible. Perhaps you would get mad if it wasn't so good.

Yes, long forgotten crush, all that staff; but you can't deny that he's exactly what you ever wanted. As simple as that. You just choose to avoid those feelings to not to get hurt. Because he never made a move; was always around, like a friend. He made it clear then. And now he offers something different to you. Yes, it feels really good.

It would be better to know that he does it not because he's drunk and wants to mess with you.

His presence feels different all of a sudden. Hot. Tempting. Delicate?

- You wouldn't be able to keep them close forever, - Jiwon laughs again and you feel, suddenly, a smile creeping on your face as well.

He's not like that, right? Jiwon is not going to do that to someone.

- Don't underestimate my fear of facing you, - you feel him stroking your hair lazily and he gave your ear a light pinch.

- You said you are never afraid. Never, my ass, - he's mocking you again as if kissing wasn't enough. Not going to let it slide, you unconsciously open your eyes to see him smiling ever so brightly.

- It wasn't.. Fuck, - it's not the moment that breathtaking, it's him.

His expression is priceless and he's so close and so happy. God, so happy.

You are falling for him so hard you can feel your ribs clenching.

- Now I'm going to kiss you again. Ready? 1..

He never finishes since it's rather difficult to talk while kissing. You can feel Jiwon smile widely in the kiss and this is incredible; all that happening is incredible. His hands on your waist and he's pulling you on his laps and you happily help him. Way too happily perhaps since he breaks a kiss to laugh, while giving you short pecks and getting down your neck with wet kisses. The skin feels like it's on fire; everywhere you feel his fingers touch you, it burns. You move your head to give him better access, burying fingers in his hair, slightly tugging on it.

You would sell your soul to not to moan like a teenager, but you can't. All you manage is biting your lip and pulling his hair harder. He likes it. You can feel it. You totally can feel exactly how much he likes it.

- Let's pretend it was our first date and when I asked you to be my girlfriend you said yes, - you catch something in your throat not because you are taken aback by his audacity, but because he definitely leaves a hickey on your neck.

The thing is, you are mad, happy and turned on at the same time.

Tagging on his hair, you make him look at you. And damn those eyes.

Now you just turned on. Nice.

- What made you think I would say yes?

- You just jumped on my lap like you..

- I understand your point, now shut up, - well, testing him is not an easy game to play.

But it so worth it.

[thereluctantinquisitor]

Hey Reluctant you remember that tragic fic you wrote about Dorian leaving Varlen bc he refused to stay behind while Dorian went to Tevinter? since I've been thinking about it again and it's re-broken my heart, could you pretty please maybe do a short sequel where Varlen follows Dorian to Tevinter anyway and keeps him safe from the shadows, something with a happy ending? Bc I'm dying still thinking about my boys sad and lonely even if the fic isnt technically canon its still breaking my heart ;~;

PHEW. Sorry about this taking SO LONG to actually get to, but it ended up much longer than I anticipated. Because of that, I have uploaded it to AO3 in chapters for ease of reading (LINK HERE), but will also put it here for people who don’t mind… y’know… a lot of scrolling >.>

Also HERE is the break-up fic in question, in case people are interested

Things Thought Lost (Pavellan, Post-Trespasser)

Varlen Lavellan x Dorian Pavus, approx 8500 words. CW: violence, attempted assassination.

“Magister Pavus?”

Dorian groaned softly, the fingers of hisleft hand rubbing a tired circle against his temple. “Yes, yes. What is it?”

The scribe entered; a mouse of a thing calledAdiran. New to the household, he bobbed his head deferentially, and with theMaker as his witness, Dorian swore the young man’s knees were trembling.“T-There has been a change of venue for your meeting with Magister Tellene.Instead of the upper chambers, she has requested you meet her at the,u-um…“ He paused, glancing hurriedly at his board, which quivered andjumped in the air. “The Gilder.”

One dark brow arched high on Dorian’sforehead. “Harbour-side? An interesting choice for a lady with such a notabledislike of salt air.” The young man opened his mouth as if to beg apology, butDorian quickly waved a hand. “No matter, no matter. Thank you, Adiran. Informher that I will be present at the agreed upon time.” Typically, Dorian wouldmake a show of rescheduling entirely, as was common practice within theImperium when one wanted to assert one’s status over another. Or be a little petty. However,if he was to ever bring forth discussion of the treatment of slaves in themagisterium, he needed Tellene on side. She was old blood – something that carriedgreat weight in a nation stained red. Her support would be invaluable. Despitehis better judgement, he had little choice but to attend whatever she deignedto organise. If he did not establish an alliance now, someone else wouldinevitably beat him to it. It was not something he could afford.

Sighing softly, he pushed himself to hisfeet, chair sliding out behind him along the soft carpet. Moving to thefloor-length mirror, Dorian took a moment to adjust his attire, tugging hisrobe slightly, reasserting the perfectly effortless flow required of his cloak.He would not be wearing his insignia of office this time. Not if he was toventure so far from the heart of the Magisterium. It would be interesting, hesupposed. He had yet to visit the harbour since his magnificent return toTevinter. It held a rather significant number of fond memories.

All he hoped was that the meeting would gosmoothly, and those memories would not be replaced by something comparablydark.

The Gilder was decidedly… unremarkable. Nice,mind you, but most things in that part of the city could at the very least bedescribed as nice. Dorian exited his carriage with a nod to his driver, Valus, who wouldwait for however long the meeting took. Adiran hurried out behind him, carryinga stack of papers and ink to transcribe should the casual conversation take amore formal turn. It might not be needed, but Dorian always found it better tobe prepared, and the young man seemed as though he would benefit from theexcursion.

“Try to calm down,” he said to Adiran as they approached the establishment. “I brought you here as a member of myhousehold staff. Do try to look the part, yes?”

“Y-Yes, Magister Pavus.” Adiran swallowedtightly, sweat beading on his brow. “I’ll… I can do it. I’ll be fine.”

Dorian’s expression softened slightly as theyascended the steps to the entrance. “There. That’s the spirit. Just stay withme and look interested in what’s happening.” He paused as Adiran hurriedforward to get the door, then as he passed, he fixed the scribe with a sidelongglance. “But not too interested.”

The young man paled again. It was a bit cruelto tease him, but Dorian couldn’t help himself. It was the sort of thing thatwould have earned a soft snort of amusement from his companions back inFerelden. A touch of the arm. A bright smile. Silver hair swept over oneshoulder, blue eyes gleaming with barely contained laughter…

Dorian caught himself mid-thought, startledthat his mind had wandered so far from its course. No. Now is not the time for such…distraction. He needed tobe focused. This meeting could make or break half a year’s worth of work. Ifhis thoughts were elsewhere, it could lead to disaster. He had to deny them, nomatter how desperately they wished to elope.

“The meeting is upstairs, Magister Pavus.”Adiran, who had been swift to hurry over to a richly attired man with a ledger,returned just as quickly, his brown hair tousled, green eyes bright withnervous energy. “Shall I lead the way and ah… introduce you? Is that, um… howthis goes?”

“Yes. If you please.” Dorian’s response wasclipped, his mind still distant as he followed the young man. Why think ofVarlen? Why now? Was it because there was so much at stake? Was it because he wasfeeling so very out of his depth?

Or was it because, if he were to be perfectlyhonest, he would give anything in the world for Varlen to be the one currently standing by hisside.

You are the one who set thatship to sail, you know, Dorianchided himself silently as he followed Adiran up two flights of carpeted stairsto the room. Thenyou launched a fireball and burned it to ash for good measure. You have no one toblame but yourself. He is not coming back.

It was a bitter thing, to consider how muchhe had already been forced to give up to become Magister Pavus. Maker’s breath,he had yet to decide if it had even been worth it. Perhaps, if he could doenough good here, he might be able to make it safe. Yes… yes, if he could dothat, Varlen might just…

Dorian’s thought was cut short as Adiranknocked meekly on the door of one of the rooms. Good grief, even his knock wasmouse-like. Dorian would have to work on that with him; give the young man abit more presence. It would do him no good to come across as so fragile. People arewant to take advantage of such individuals, particularly in the Imperium.

There was a soft affirmation from beyond thedoor, and Adiran took a steadying breath, steeling himself. He glanced back atDorian, who gave him an encouraging nod despite feeling almost sick with nerveshimself. But to offer support was only fair; Dorian had been the one to insiston Adiran’s involvement, after all. It was the least he could do. To Dorian’ssurprise, the young man actually mustered a flicker of a smile, standing alittle taller before turning the gold-coated handle and pushing open the door.It swung on perfectly oiled hinges, revealing the lamp-lit room beyond. Chin raised,knees still shaking slightly, Adiran stepped in ahead of Dorian, as wasprotocol. When he spoke, his voice rang out with unexpected clarity.

“Magister Tellene and valued associates, itis my honour to present the esteemed Magister Pavus, son of the late HalwardPavus, member o—”

It had been difficult for Dorian to keep aproud smile off his face at Adiran’s confident tone, but he had managed upuntil the young man suddenly cut off, his introduction coming to a jarring haltmidway through. Dorian frowned, brow creasing in mingled disappointment andconcern as he stepped forward to usher Adiran aside, assuming the scribe’snerves had simply overcome him. No matter. There would be other opportunitiesfor him to practice. He placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder comfortingly butfirmly. “That is enough with the formalities for n…” Dorian halted the momenthe stepped up to Adiran’s side. He caught the young man’s expression. Adiran’sgreen eyes, once bright with nerves, were blown wide, staring down in shock.His head was barely tilted, frozen in place, colour draining fast from histanned skin. Bitter dread clawed up the back of Dorian’s throat, and almostreluctantly, he let his own gaze descend.

A hilt, adorned with delicate gold weave,jutted from the centre of Adiran’s stomach.

“Fasta-vass!” Doriansprang into action, his time spent fighting with the Inquisition far fromforgotten. Magic leaped to his fingertips in less than a frantic heartbeat, butfor once the destructive fire of his youth was not the first thing to rise tothe occasion. Instead, a barrier rippled around Dorian and the young man,wrapping them in a familiar hum of energy, and it was just in time as anotherdagger streaked towards them only to be turned aside by the magical shield. Ahigh, panicked whine crawled up the back of Adiran’s throat as blood began toseep around his fingers, wrapped almost protectively around the hilt of theblade. Dorian drew the young man close, hooking him around the waist to keephim on his feet. “Stay with me.” He clenched his teeth as he fought to maintaintheir defences as another projectile – one far less mundane – was repelled. “Do not pullthat out, do you understand? Stay with me.”

There were four figures in the room and nosign whatsoever of Magister Tellene, save the fact that she was likely behindthe foul play. Just four assassins against one mage and a young man whose skinhad already drained of colour as he entered the first stages of shock. This wasbeyond bad. In fact, as Dorian attempted to back towards the door, eyesflicking between his assailants, he could think of few more potentially deadlysituations in which to find himself. Foolish. He shouldhave been more careful. Should not have rushed in so eagerly. His instincts hadwarned him, and he had ignored every last one of them.

Dorian’s father once said that a man’s worthcould be measured by his ambition. Dorian himself always fancied ambition to beworth remarkably little if, in its realisation, one fell to the folly of haste.

Just this once, he wished he had taken hisown damn advice.

Sweat beading on his brow, running down histemples, Dorian backed all the way to the door only to find it had somehow beenclosed behind him, the act going unnoticed in his rush to protect his scribe.He snarled; a surprisingly vicious sound; as an assassin started forward,intending to rush the barrier. Dorian snapped his hand to the side, three boltsof fire shooting from his palm to catch the cowled man mid-flight. The assassincried out, staggering, throwing his arms up to guard his face, but his clothingremained uncharred by the flames. In fact, the fire seemed to sweep pastharmlessly, repelled like water from oiled canvas. Of course.Yes, he should have guessed they would be ready for combat with a mage of hisparticular specialty. These were no mere hired blades, after all.

“Kaffas,” Doriangrowled, face set in a snarl as he chose lightning, charging a bolt in his palmand sending it lancing forward. It hit one assassin, then leaped to a second,but again the effect seemed almost laughable. They slowed under the assault,only human and unnerved by the display, but did not stop. For all his power,Dorian was little more than an inconvenience to them.By his side, Adiran’s breathing had started to come in short, panicked gasps;too little to fill the boy’s lungs. They didn’t have much time. He didn’thave much time. Turning, Dorian threw a hand towards the door, summoning magicto his palm and sending it scorching outwards in a bright, loud blast. If hecould get them out and summon the city guards, then perhaps—

The sound of shattering glass ripped Dorian’sattention back to the room even as the door buckled and blasted outwards. Theassassins standing by the window cried out in surprise, stepping away hastilyas a figure swung into the room. A blur of black and brown, the person hit theground, rolled, and was on their feet in less time than it took to bat an eye,twin blades flashing in their hands. For a moment, Dorian thought this might beanother assailant, come to ensure the job was done thoroughly. But before thatthought even reached completion, the stranger whirled on the assassins,slashing fast, feinting and dodging and weaving, harrying and harassing them inclose quarters. It seemed the stranger’s arrival was as much as surprise tothem as it had been to Dorian, and they scrambled to defend themselves,momentarily distracted from their quarry.

In the confusion, Dorian did the only thinghe could. Grunting, he hauled Adiran up and made for the door, almost trippingover the debris, staggering out into the hallway. The boy’s blood ran freelydown his front, now, staining the carpet red as they stumbled and wovechaotically. After a few hindered steps, Dorian opted to simply sweep the boyinto his arms, ignoring the shriek of pain Adiran let out at the movement. Thesound stole the breath from Dorian’s chest in the worst possible way and hegritted his teeth, trying not to give in to the rising panic. The guilt. Adiranshook in his arms, tense with pain, eyes glassy and wide as he stared down athis wound.

He’s just a boy. I shouldn’thave brought him. I shouldn’t have—

Dorian reached the stairs just as a form camehurtling out of the room’s shattered doorway, skidding into the hall, a horrorof black fabric and deadly blade. Assassin. Cursing,Dorian threw up another barrier, but before he could attempt to flee the mancrashed into him, sending both Dorian and Adiran to the ground. They hit hard,and Dorian rolled on instinct just as the assassin’s wicked blade slammed intothe ground where his neck had been. Whatever it was made of, it sliced straightthrough the floorboards as though they were paper. With little left to hisdisposal, Dorian kicked out, catching the assassin in the side, knocking himtowards the stairs. Unfortunately, the cloaked man managed to catch himself onthe first step, avoiding the damaging fall that might have followed, andimmediately launched himself back towards Dorian, who had barely had time tostagger to his feet.

Whether through skill or sheer luck, Dorianmanaged to catch the assassin’s wrists, that deadly blade stopping mere inchesfrom his chest. Both men grunted, snarling, one’s face hidden by a mask, the other’sexposed and desperate. Despairing. Livid. Adiran layin a crumpled heap, curled in on himself as if to guard the blade sheathed inhis stomach. He’sjust a boy. Dorian cried out, heavingback against the assassin, forcing the man back a half-step from the suddenforce of it. Justa boy. His grip tightened on theassassin’s wrists, clamping down hard, the fitted fabric of the man’s sleeveslipping down as they struggled for dominance. I should not have brought him. 

For a split second, Dorian felt warmth against his palms –skin – and quite literally seized the opportunity with both hands. Ignoring thethreat of that deadly blade, Dorian focused his magic, dropping his barrier anddrawing its power into his attack, feeling the energy coil and writhe inside him. Then,just when he could contain it no longer, he released it in a rush, theelectricity discharging with a muted crack directly into the assassin’s exposedskin. The man screamed, arching, grip tightening on his blade, neck snappingback, body shaking. Dorian refused to let go, his eyes on the assassin, hisheart on Adiran, his mind chanting a desperate mantra for it to all be over.The smell of something cooking, and then burning, rose thick in the air, untilthe assassin finally collapsed in a smoking heap on the floor. Without eventhinking, Dorian snatched the man’s blade and slipped it into his belt, themimmediately staggered over the corpse and towards the crumpled form of hisscribe.

“Adiran,” he rasped, exhausted, shaking as heturned the boy, rolling him onto his back. Dorian was greeted by the faintestof moans, but it set his exhausted heart racing again, newfound energy risingto flood his veins. “Come – that’s it. We’re fine. You will be fine.” Hegrunted, heaving the boy up again. Adiran did not cry out this time. In fact,he seemed barely aware of who Dorian was or what was happening, head lolling,eyes unfocused and half shut. Bitterly, Dorian could only think that was alllikely for the best.

Dorian did not exit via the front of theestablishment. The back door was closer, and his chariot was waiting down theside of the building. As soon as Dorian stumbled into sight, Valus,leaped to his feet, eyes blown wide with shock. “Get the door open,” Dorianordered as he ran towards it. “Now! Take us to Maevaris.” She had a spirithealer on staff – one who might be able to help. That was the boy’s onlychance, Dorian feared, and even then it was slim. As he and Valus heaved theyoung man into the carriage, Dorian eyed the wound and felt a sick sensationchurn in his stomach. Itwas bad. Any seasoned fighter wouldsay the same. A slow, painful way to go.

Once inside the wagon, Valus immediately setthe horses off at a canter, moving recklessly through the streets, hollering tomove people out of the carriage’s way. Inside, Dorian cradled Adiran’s head inhis lap, smoothing the boy’s hair, unable to find the words he deserved in sucha moment. His hand worked what little magic he had left, trying to numb thearea – ease the pain. Whatcould one truly say? 

“M… Magis…ter…” Adiran’s voice was barelyabove a whisper, and Dorian started, almost missing it for all Valus’ shoutingand rein-cracking.

“Shh, hush now,” Dorian murmured almostreflexively, reaching to wrap a hand comfortingly around the young man’s wrist.Holding him. What else could he do? “Save your breath. We are almost at thehealer.”

Adiran swallowed, flinched, then gasped atthe contraction, his hands twitching painfully around the embedded blade.“A-Are y… s-safe?”

The expression on Dorian’s face would havebeen comical had it not been lined so heavily by grief. “Foolish boy,” hechoked, shaking his head, fingers still combing soothingly through his tousledbrown hair that seemed immune to any form of taming. Sucking in a shakingbreath, Dorian pressed on, “I am fine, Adiran. Unharmed. You did well. You… didvery well.”

Had the young man been more present, he mighthave disputed that claim, given the circumstances. But instead his feverishgaze seemed to brighten ever so slightly as it drifted upwards, focusing on thejolting roof of the carriage. Their green was dimmer than before; wilting fastlike cut grass. All Dorian could do was helplessly beg the carriage to gofaster.

Maevaris, as always,moved with the efficiency of a woman whose world always ran on perfectschedule. The moment Dorian’s carriage pulled up, she appeared as thoughsummoned, whether warned by her own guards or Valus’ booming voice, Doriancould not say. Either way, it did not matter; the moment she saw Adiran shelaunched into action, sending a servant to fetch the healer before slidingbeneath Adiran’s other arm herself and helping Dorian carry the boy along.“Maker’s breath, what happened to him?” she demanded as they ran into themanor, a cot already being wheeled down the hallway from one of the nearbyrooms. “And if you are going to stop by unannounced, flowers never go astray.”

“Not now,” Dorian begged, andMaevaris seemed more than happy to oblige him in this instance. While boththeir instincts in the gravest moments were to make light, this time… this timeDorian just couldn’t bear it. What happened next was something of a blur, andthe next thing Dorian knew, the boy had been whisked away by not just onehealer, but a group, all speaking in fast, serious tones. The only thing thatstopped Dorian from following them instinctively was Maevaris’ steadying handon his shoulder. He turned to her, aggrieved, but she just shook her head, gazesympathetic but firm.

“Let them work, Dorian. There isnothing either of us can do for him now.” Her pale gaze drifted to where theyhad disappeared down the corridor, voices fading in the distance. “I do notknow who that boy was, but he is in good hands. The best, if Jahvri’srecommendations are to be believed.”

“One can only hope. Maker’sbreath…” Dorian sagged, andMaevaris quickly guided him over to a chair, steadying him by the arms as hecollapsed into it. “How?” he continued, shaking his head, curving forward andburying his face in his hands. “How did I let this happen?”

“Hush.” She pulled him in close,letting Dorian’s head rest against her stomach, holding him without a care forthe blood, both fresh and dried, that coated the front of his robe. “You will tell me what happened, Dorian… but not now. Youare safe here. That is what matters. Stay as long as you feel you must.”

“You are too good to me.”

“I am. But Maker knows you woulddo the same.”

To his credit, Dorian managed afaint smile at that. It was true, after all. But it wavered and fell all tooquickly. Maevaris, perceptive as ever, gave the excuse of fetching tea for themto drink. As if she did not have staff for such an endeavour. But regardless,she made herself scarce, offering Dorian a moment’s reprieve, and he wasgrateful for the solitude. Suddenly overcome by a wave of exhaustion,Dorian raised his hands to rub at his eyes, then jolted as thesight of his own bloodstained palms sent a spike of panic through him. Yes. Yes,of course. As if reading hismind, a servant appeared with a warm, damp cloth, offering it to him for thetime being and informing him a bath was being drawn and would be ready shortly.Maevaris was nothing if not a gracious host.

Sitting there, Dorian’s mindwandered back to that room at The Gilder. To the figure who had leapt in; asaviour of dark leather and flashing steel. Whoever that person had been,Dorian wagered he owed them his life. Perhaps even Adiran’s, if…

Dorian blanched and leanedforward heavily, resting his forearms on his knees, uncaring of how he mightlook to the guards flooding out to take up extra watch duties in the wake ofhis dramatic arrival. What he had done; attending that meeting; had been amistake he could not afford to make. Not now. Certainly not again. A singleerror of judgement could mean the end of everything. Of himself. Of others. He was more than just a lone agent – a pariah actingout against an established ideal. Finally, he was in a position where his voicecould be heard above the powerful ruling minority. If he allowed himself to besilenced through his own recklessness…

There was a sound from outside;men and woman shouting what sounded like a warning. Dorian launched to hisfeet, exhausted but rekindled by the thought that the assassins had givenchase. The idea that he might have brought danger to Maevaris’ house left himsick and hollow inside, but as he attempted to rush out a pair of guardsmenstepped in front of the door, blocking his path. “Apologies, Magister Pavus,”one said, “but we are under strict orders.”

Of course they were. Dorian’slips curled disdainfully, but quickly his rational side caught up, windingtight around his anger and stemming its flow. He was drained. Exhausted andbroken in too many ways. If he rushed out there, he would only be a liability.

A horn sounded – a few staccatobursts – and Dorian’s gaze flicked between the guards with an appropriate levelof indignation for his station. “At least tell me what is happening,” he said,seeking compromise. “I trust you can do that much, yes?”

After sharing a nervous glance,the other guard spoke, her voice ringing within her helm. “An attempted breachof the estate’s wall, Magister Pavus. That last call was to say whoever madethe attempt has been apprehended. They—”

Suddenly, the door behind theguards was thrown open, sending the pair staggering to the side and Dorianjumping back a step. Another group of Maevaris’ soldiers stormed in, a figuredragged between them, gripped tightly by the upper arms, surrounded by thethreat of blades. Dorian’s heart raced, but it seemed their captive was notputting up much of a fight; an occasional grunt and jerk of resistance when aguard got a little too rough or a blade slipped a little too close, but nothingmore. It was… well, rather strange. The group started moving past Dorian, their captive twisting,brown and black leather stained by blood…

… that was when Dorian recognisedwho it was.

“Wait! Stop!” Starting forward,Dorian placed himself between the guards and the hallway, cutting them off. Thegroup immediately halted. They might be under Maevaris’ employ, but they werenot so bold as to trample a Magister. Breathing harder than he had any need tobe, Dorian held out a hand. It was trembling. “Wait. I know that armour. Thisperson saved my life.”

There was a hush of uneasytension that filled the room. “Apologies, Magister, but we are under strictorders—” one of the guards began, but then the captive spoke over the top ofhim.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was deep.Earnest. Achingly familiar. Somethingtightened in Dorian’s chest, his eyes widening at the sound. No. Itcouldn’t be. “Itried to keep them all in the room, but one slipped past, and I’m…” The figureshivered and hung his head, still cowled and masked. Only his eyes werevisible, and Dorian caught a glimpse of them for the briefest moment. A bright,brilliant blue. “You got away.” The man continued weakly, almost to himself.Almost relieved. “Fora second I thought…”

“Release him,” Dorian breathed,stepping forward. But the guards did not comply, and his angerrose swiftly from the centre of his chest. “Did you not hear me? I said—”

“It is all right.” Maevaris’voice rang clear and crisp through the room. She had entered with a servantbearing a tray of tea, and while she seemed wary, her ability to read Dorianlike an open book spurred her to act. She met Dorian’s grateful gaze and noddedto the guards. “Let him go.”

Immediately, the guards releasedthe cowled man, who grunted and rubbed his arms where he had been held. Then,slowly, he straightened, his gaze rising to meet Dorian’s. They held eachother’s stares for a time, neither entirely sure of what to say. What to do. Dorian’s mind was little more than a whitewash ofemotion, fuzzy and uncertain, relieved and terrified all at once.

What was he doing here? How did he…?

“If you’re going to shout at me,can we at least do it without an audience?” Varlen’s voice was the same asDorian remembered, but somehow different as well. Harder. Colder.

“I’m not…” Dorian trailed off,then licked his lips, glancing about the room full of armed men and women.“Maevaris, if you please… I would have a moment with this man. Alone.” Underher intense stare, Dorian gave her a pointed nod. “All is quite well. You havemy word. Is there somewhere we might speak? Preferably a room without yourdutiful guards present.”

“Dorian,” Maevaris said warningly, but at the look on hisface she just sighed, reaching up to rub her forehead with her fingertips.“Very well. Fine. This way.” She spared a glance for the newcomer. Or perhapsa glare wouldbe more fitting. “Attempt anything at all and I will have you skinned and wear you like acoat. Understood?”

Dorian imagined Varlen would havepaled beneath that mask, but his voice remained surprisingly resolute as hegave a small bow of his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

Yes ma’am. Ittook all Dorian had to suppress a cringe as Maevaris arched a brow at theimpropriety of it all. But he supposed, if nothing else, it was strangelycomforting to know that some things had not changed.

When the door closed behind them,the first thing Dorian did close the space between himself and the cowledfigure. His hands reached out, thumbs brushing along the sides of Varlen’s coveredface, both pleased and surprised to find his former lover did not jerk awayfrom his touch.

So, Dorian removed the mask.

The elven man’s features wereprecisely how he remembered, although he supposed he shouldn’t really besurprised. It had only been just over a year, after all, since they had gonetheir separate ways for good. Discarding the mask, Dorian’s hands returned asthough drawn by a mysterious force, ghosting along the sides of Varlen’s face, wantingso badly to feel the warmth of his skin, but uncertain of whether such intimatecontact would be welcome. Instead, he allowed himself a moment of indulgence,drinking in the sight that stood before him. Those bright blue eyes, that palevallaslin. Cheekbones that gave such pleasing shape to his face; lines Dorian hadonce loved to absently trace. They were more pronounced now, he realisedvaguely. Varlen had gotten thinner. Then again, Dorian figured they both hadneglected themselves in more ways than one. Nothing could drain a person quitelike constant, unwavering stress.

In Dorian’s distraction, it wasVarlen who was the first to speak. “Dorian… were you hurt?”

That question. Why did everyone always ask that first?Pain flickered behind Dorian’s eyes and he lowered his hands, stepping away,the image of Adiran shivering in his arms suddenly too vivid. Too overwhelming.“I am well, Varlen.” He paused, collected himself, then added. “And you? Icannot imagine your entry through the second-storey window was a comfortableexperience.”

A faint smirk flickered acrossVarlen’s lips and he shrugged, although a little stiffly. “It’s not so bad. Ifyou do it right.” With a sigh, he reached up, tugging down his hood, hairspilling from its confine to tumble down past his shoulders. Dorian’s eyeswidened at the sight. Still long, yes, but he wore it shorter than before. Thedemands of practicality. But more than anything, it was predominantly black.Dorian was stunned into silence for a good while, slowly taking in changes hethought he would never see. Varlen lovedhis hair, proud to wear the same silver as his mother and sister. Now, only afew inches of it had grown, catching the wavering lamplight, no doubt awaitingthe dyeing process. What followed the unveiling was an uneasy silence; one thatseemed better suited to a funeral procession than an untimely reunion of formerlovers. Then again, perhaps it was a perfect silence. After all, Dorian had noidea how to fill it.

Uncertainly, Varlen rose to theoccasion, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Dorian… I know this isn’twhat you wante—”

“No.” Dorian, it seemed, hadfound his voice. Funny, how easy it was to make the throw once the first stonehad been cast. Varlen blinked, uncertain of what to make of single word, butDorian just shook his head gently. “Varlen, if it is apology you areattempting, I would much rather you refrain.” He paused, a familiar discomfort gnawingat his stomach, but forced himself to continue. “I know that we left each otheron rather unfortunate terms. To putit mildly, of course. But if it is quite the same to you, I would rather notdwell on that particular conversation.” Themistakes that I made. “The… things that were said.”

Varlen licked his lips, and therewas an air of uncertainty to the movement. For a time, Dorian feared he haddone precisely the wrong thing; that their parting words might have beensomething Varlen needed to address and he had just crushed that need underheel. But then the elven man released a long-held breath, some of the tensionleaving his shoulders as he did so, and glanced up to meet Dorian’s gaze. “Yeah.All right, sure.” A faint smile quirked up the corner of his lips. “So… I takeit you’re not going to lecture me, then?”

“Come now, let’s not be entirely unreasonable.”

Varlen laughed, and Dorian foundhimself succumbing to the desire as well. It was a giddy feeling, especiallyconsidering what had just transpired, but a part of him simply couldn’t helpit. His scribe was barely clinging to life, he had nearly been assassinated,and now his former lover stood before him swathed in black like a murderer fromsome cautionary tale. But he was smiling. Laughing.

These were strange times indeed.

They quieted after a moment,returning to a kind of still contemplation of one another, eyes locked.Focused. Neither seemed willing to break the connection. “I… had considered anumber of outcomes. For my meeting with Magister Tellene, that is.” Dorian’sconfession was soft, and he shook his head, still not quite believing what washappening. “But this… well, this one hadcertainly failed to cross my mind.”

“I know.” Varlen was the first tobreak the stillness, looking away and moving over towards the window. He peekedthrough the curtains, squinting against the late-afternoon sun. What he waslooking for, Dorian could not say. “I got most of them,” he eventuallyexplained after glancing over his shoulder and catching Dorian’s perplexedexpression. “But one of the assassins slipped past. I tried to chase him down,but the others cut me off and…” He pulled his lower lip between his teeth, eyesflicking back out to the front of Maevaris’ estate. There was shame in theexpression. Whatever Varlen had intended, it clearly had not gone according toplan. Loose ends were always complicated, after all.

“I believe I ran into thatfellow, yes,” Dorian said. Varlen turned sharply at that, eyes widening inalarm, and Dorian quickly gave a placating wave of his hand. “Now, now, not tofret. He was… dealt with.”

“But the clothing they had on was—”

“You will find little in thisworld that is entirely mage-proof,Varlen.”

“Right. Yeah. Good point.” Varlencleared his throat, nodding and letting the curtain fall back into place as he steppedaway. He wiped his hands on his pants anxiously, and Dorian couldn’t help butfeel a pang of guilt. After all, he knew why Varlen might be in such a state.But before Dorian could find the correct words, Varlen turned to face him,expression tense. “Well, are you going to ask me or not?”

“Ask you…?”

“Why I’m here, Dorian.”

“Ah.” Dorian sighed, moving overto a sturdy mahogany table – a wood favoured by Maevaris and half themagisterium - and leaning against its edge. “Very well, then. Why are you here,Varlen?”

The elven man had seeminglyexpected an argument. He paused, mouth half open, and then closed it with aclick of his teeth. He was clearly on edge; Dorian could read that much, atleast. But despite it, Varlen pushed himself to speak. “I… heard rumours.”

Now it was Dorian’s turn tofrown. “You will have to be a tad more specific, Varlen. A great many rumours havecircled me of late.” He made a grand gesture at his bloodied robes. “Somewhat partof the office, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah, well… part of the job ornot, I didn’t like what I heard.” He was pacing now, that familiar restlessenergy demanding some kind of outlet. Dorian said nothing, simply lettingVarlen sort through his thoughts. “I’d begged Leliana to keep an ear to theground for me, and she…” He swallowed; shook his head. “People want you dead, Dorian. More than most Magisters.Which I guess is something of anachievement, but not exactly what I‘d been hoping to hear.”

“And that surprised you?”

“… No.” Varlen sighed, raking hisfingers through his hair. Silver fading to black. “Just… do you know what it’slike? To be so far away and hear reports like that? Over and over again? Firstit’s unnamed mercenaries. Then trained assassins. Then suddenly any wealthy altus who can afford morethan a single attempt on your life. Then the threats started coming from yourfellow magisters. Dorian…” Varlenshook his head, although he was unable to look over and meet Dorian’s gaze andhis voice dropped to barely a whisper. “What was I supposed to do? Wait until Igot the news that y… that you’d been…?”

The unfinished question was metwith silence, heavy and uncomfortable. Dorian knew what he should say. You were supposed to stay away. It is notsafe here for you. That was, after all, the bitter note on which they hadended their relationship. Dorian had thought cutting ties was the only way tokeep his amatus out of danger. But they were no longer a couple – there was nolonger that sense of obligation – and Varlen had still come to him.

“I don’t know, Varlen.” It wasthe most honest answer Dorian had given anyone since returning to the Imperium,and it seemed Varlen sensed that by the way his gaze finally flicked over and stayedfocused on him. “Things here… they have been difficult. On that matter, I willnot lie. What I am attempting here was always going to breed some measure of hostility.” Slowly, painfully, he offered a weak smile. “If it is anyconsolation at all… this is the closest anyone has ever come to completingthe deed. Your timing remains remarkable as eve—”

To Dorian’s surprise, Varlen snorted. He seemed utterly amused, andDorian stopped mid-sentence, uncertain what to make of the outburst. Anapologetic look washed over Varlen’s face and he cleared his throatuncomfortably. “Sorry. It’s just… this wasn’t the closest. Not really.”

Dorian felt his face go slack. “Itwasn’t?”

Varlen shook his head. “Therewere a few times. At night, mostly. At your estate. Some were ready withpoisons, waiting for you to head to your rooms for the evening. They planned toslip it into the water pitcher on your bedside table. Once was…” He paused, asif uncertain if he should continue, but after an encouraging nod from Dorian,he did. “It was your old scribe, Dorian. She was to deliver you a message, butthe parchment was soaked through with something.She wore gloves so she wouldn’t touch it, but knew you wouldn’t have any onafter dinner.”

My scribe. For thebriefest moment, Dorian’s mind flickered to Adiran, but he quickly shooed theimage away. No, not him. The one the boy had replaced. “I thought she had simply fled my employ, the same as some of the others,” he murmured.Feeling strangely unsteady, he reached out, groping behind him, dragging one ofthe chairs out from beneath the table and sitting down. “Corellia. She hadserved my family for years. It was a shock, mind you, but I imagined many of myfather’s old staff were less than pleased by my replacing him.” Then, Dorianlooked up, grey eyes finding Varlen and fixing on the man. “So she… did you…?”

“I had to.” His voice was barelyabove a whisper, and Varlen closed his eyes, turning away. “She wanted to killyou, Dorian. What choice did I have?”

Dorian’s heart felt like stone,heavy and coarse. “Was she the only one? Among my household.”

“No.”

“And did you…?”

“Yes. I did.” Varlen let out ashivering breath, but opened his eyes again. Just a touch. But he did not lookat Dorian, and there was something defeated in the expression on his face. WhenVarlen worked up the will to speak again, his voice was hoarse, thick with a hurt that could not bedescribed. To hear it tore Dorian apart.

“I’m sorry, Dorian. For all ofit. I know you cared about them, but I couldn’t just let them go.” Hisvoice had risen as he spoke, edging into something panicked and desperate.“M-Maybe I shouldn’t have done it. Come here. Interfered. I just…” His voice cracked,and something inside Dorian cracked with it as Varlen turned away sharply,almost desperate to look away. “I didn’t think it would be so…”

“Varlen… come now, none of that.”Dorian rose quickly, ignoring the lurch of unsteadiness that accompanied themovement, and crossed the room in a few long strides. He reached out, takingVarlen by the shoulders, finally seeing the pain the man had been sodesperately trying to hide. Perhaps the mask had allowed him to pretend, for atime. Perhaps it had let him pretend it was someone else holding the blade and taking the lives. Now,that dark cloth lay abandoned on the floor, a black stain on Maevaris’ plush carpet.Dorian wanted nothing more than to burn it to ash. “Varlen… look at me.Please?” Slowly, the elven man’s gaze drifted up, glassy but stubborn, refusing to give in to the threat of likely much-needed tears. Dorian smiledfaintly and brushed a strand of hair from Varlen’s face. “I owe you my life, itseems. Many times over. What you have done… it is a debt I can only ever hopeto repay.”

Varlen just nodded, but the movementwas stiff. With a pang, Dorian realised that was not what he should have said.Wincing internally, the mage forged onward. He had to find what Varlen needed tohear. “What you have endured… I can only imagine how difficult it must havebeen. Tell me; were you alone?”

“Leliana,” Varlen murmured, eyeson Dorian’s chest rather than his face. “She would send information. Leads. Ijust followed them. Got in the way as often as I could.” He paused, and thenadded even more softly, “Some were… harder than others. There aren’t manyplaces for someone like me to go here, when things go wrong.” He snorted dryly. “You were right about that much, at least.” There was abitterness to that last remark that stung like a slap.

“Oh Varlen…” Unable to helphimself, Dorian just pulled the elven man into an embrace, holding him tight.At first, Varlen remained rigid, the way one might when dragged into anunexpected hug by an acquaintance. Polite endurance, nothing more. But then,after a few tense beats, he relaxed. Leaned into the embrace, wrapping his ownarms around Dorian and pulling him close, burying his head in the crook of hisneck. For a moment, everything almost felt like before. Dorian closed his eyes.Breathed in the familiar scent of his amatus. Maker’s breath…

Dorian had no idea how badly hehad missed this. How badly he had missed him.

“I have made so many mistakes,”Dorian murmured, shaking his head slightly, arms refusing to let go of Varlen.“More than I have any right to. But… how we left things…”

He felt Varlen shift against him,but he made no attempt to extract himself from the embrace, settling to mumbleagainst Dorian’s shoulder. “It was bad, wasn’t it?” Dorian just nodded, andVarlen continued. “I won’t lie. A part of me wanted to wash my hands of you. Itseemed… for the best, in a way. I didn’t want to admit it at the time, but youwere right. Coming to Tevinter and standing at your side… it would have been too dangerous. There is just noway we could… be us here.”

A thought suddenly occurred toDorian that saw cold flood his skin. “Varlen, I need to make something clearthat I may have neglected. It is true, we can never be what we were inFerelden here, but it is not because I do not want it.” He tightened his grip instinctively. “Maker’s breath, even back then, against my better judgement, Iwanted it more than anything. But… the thought that you would come here becauseof me, and place yourself at risk…” Dorian felt his throat constrict but attemptedto talk through it. “If somethinghappened to you…”

“Stop. Dorian...” Varlen’s words were firm, but his touch remained gentle. Hepulled back, taking Dorian in, and it was only the expression of concernthat flashed across his face that made Dorian aware of the fact that he was,indeed, crying. Perhaps it was his exhaustion or his worry for Adiran, or hisdiscovery of Varlen struggling in the heart of the one place he had tried tospare him from. Perhaps it was a culmination of all the day’s miserable, bloodyevents. But regardless of the reason, silent tears had crept past Dorian’scareful guard, and he regretted them immediately. Ashamed of himself, Dorianmade to wipe them away in a harsh motion, but Varlen beat him to it. And hishands were gentle. His gloves soft. Without dismissal, he brushed away the first sign that,finally, Dorian had reached a limit he was not prepared to handle.

At least, not alone.  

“You shouldn’t be here,” Dorianbreathed, his voice only shaking ever so slightly. It was the most composedanyone could be while crying their eyes out, he liked to imagine. It helpedlessen the sting a touch. “Amatus, this is too dangerous. I won’t beresponsible for dragging you into it. I can’t.”

“Well that’s fine. Because youaren’t.” The words were so simple, and Varlen spoke them with such convictionthat it actually gave Dorian pause. A faint smile managed to find its way toVarlen’s lips and he held Dorian’s face in his hands, keeping their gazeslocked. “We broke up, Dorian. There was, as you said, no obligation for me tocome here.”

“You came anyway,” Dorianmurmured. Varlen nodded.

“I came anyway.”

“After everything I said to you.Everything I…”

“Yeah, well…” Varlen gave a faintshrug. It was meant to appear dismissive, but deep down, Dorian could onlyimagine how many months it must have taken for him to perfect it. “Turns out itwas going to take more than a bad fight to keep me away. Whether we’re togetheror not, Dorian, I care about you.You’re my friend as much as you were… more than that.” He swallowed, taking asecond to collect himself. “The fact of the matter is, I believe in what you’retrying to do. Fenedhis, I want you to succeed. I know I can’t helpout in the open, so I figured I would do it my way, and it was actuallyworking.”

“Until today.”

“Until today,” Varlen agreedquietly. He let go of Dorian, the tears having ceased as they spoke, and took asingle step back. Not too far, but far enough. “I… messed up, today. I was tooslow. I didn’t pay enough attention to the obvious threat, and it…” Varlen bithis lip, glancing towards the door. “Creators… he’s so young, Dorian. Just a kid.”

“I know.” Dorian’s voice washusky, and there was no helping it. He could still see Adiran’s shocked expression;that vacant stare at the roof of the carriage; and it pained him in a way thathe simply could not describe. “But it was not your fault, Varlen. Do not blameyourself. What you have been doing… it is already more than I deserve.”

“No, it isn’t.” Varlen steppedforward again, resting one hand on Dorian’s shoulder, squeezing intently.“Dorian, this would be a lot easier for both of us if you would just let mehelp you. It’s hard enough hiding from the rest of Tevinter without having to dodge you too.”

To Dorian’s surprise, a dry laughmanaged to escape him. “You say it as though you will continue regardless of myanswer.”

“Funny. That’s probably because Iwill.”

“You remain stubborn as ever.”

“Did you expect that to change?”

Varlen smiled, and Dorian evenmanaged a weak one back, not sure what precisely was happening between thembut grateful for it nonetheless. But something remained unspoken;something Dorian could not simply ignore. “Varlen… if you are to remain…”

“It’s like you said,” Varlensaid, cutting him off quickly. “We can’t be what we were in Ferelden. I get that. If we’reseen publicly together… well, let’s just say it wouldn’t help you start thismovement of yours.”

“Not when the people I amattempting to move possess moreprejudice than sense,” Dorian agreed reluctantly. “No, of course. You areright. We couldn’t.”

There was a pause. A long one. “Imean… did you actually…?” The words left Varlen so awkwardly that it remindedDorian of when they had first met. A pocket of warmth filled his chest as theelven man continued hurriedly. “I mean, yeah. No way. It couldn’t work…. right?”

“No. Not at all.”

The pause returned. Then Varlensaid something that caught Dorian completely off-guard.

“You called me amatus.”

Dorian blinked. “What? When?”

“Before. When you were… y’know…” He gestured to his face. “Crying.”

“Well now that’s hardly fair, tojudge a man when he is so clearly outof—”

—“Did you mean it?”

Dorian stopped. His mouth hungslightly open, as though in the process of giving voice to defensive words, butno sound passed his lips. Had he meantit? Thinking back, he did not even recall it, but he had no reasonwhatsoever to believe Varlen was lying. In the end, that meant only one thing.

“Yes.”

He had said that word; a word thatcarried so much weight. A word he had not been able to utter since they parted.A word he had dreaded and sampled and discarded more times than he could count.If he had truly said it, after all this time, and without even realising… then yes.He meant it more than anything.

His response seemed to stirsomething in Varlen because he sniffed suddenly, blue eyes flicking away asthough the far wall suddenly offered something incredibly interesting. “I…” Helet out a watery laugh. “I really fucking missed that, you know? The way you’d say it.”

Dorian didn’t bother holding backthis time. He just reached out, turned Varlen towards him, and kissed him. Theirlips pressed together, warm and soft and everything he remembered; Maker,everything he had wanted for so long.There was no stiffening of surprise from Varlen. Not even a hitching of breathas Dorian’s tongue swiped along the inner curve of his lips, tentativelyseeking more. If anything, he had been more ready for the moment than Dorianhimself, who had initiated it. Varlen opened his mouth, inviting Dorian in, onehand threading through his hair, the other sliding past up his armand coming to rest on his shoulder, holding him in place. Holding him close. Dorian turned them both, moving afew mindless steps until Varlen was against the table, their lips still locked,hands roaming one another as though feeling their shapes for the first time.And in a way, there was a newness of it. The newness of a fire rekindled.

Dorian broke the kiss for amoment, rasping a breath, neither drawing away not pushing for more. “Amatus…” he breathed, shaking his head,not quite believing what was happening. Not quite believing how badly he hadneeded it, all this time. A low chuckled curled from Varlen’s chest, meetingthe fond curve of his lips.

“There it is…” Varlen’s eyes wereclosed, almost peaceful, his head cocked slightly to the side as thoughlistening to beautiful music somewhere in the distance. Then, slowly, his eyesfluttered open to catch Dorian’s. Dorian’s expression was, understandably, confused, but Varlen justsmiled, his thumb brushing along the curve of Dorian’s cheek.

“How you said it. That was it.”Understanding flickered in Dorian’s eyes and Varlen leaned in, stealing aquick, chaste kiss, smiling against his lips. “It was just like that.”