#bonded forever but fucking unhappy as shit

[starofhisheart]

Ok but edizzy

[lizardkingeliot]

I guess I just didn't, like... expect most of the trial to be about Louis and Lestat's love story? And it's kind of throwing me for a loop rn I can't lie. Obviously those of us who have read tvl know Lestat was forced to be there. He wasn't there for revenge. He forgave them already! But....

I don't know. As hard as it was to watch it almost feels, like... weirdly affirming to the idea that the show is, in fact, all about their love? Like... even with the sham trial and Lestat being such a good performer it was SO evident how much Lestat was actually hurting up there. They had to telepathically remind him of his lines. He looked like he was physically going to collapse on several occasions. He went off script to apologize to Louis while weeping. Even to the general audience who hasn't read the books, there's no way the depth of that love isn't going to come across.

I'm feeling very raw right now and I'll probably need some time before I can articulate this better. I'll definitely need some time before I can articulate this better. But their love is just... right there. In all its toxic, fucked up vampiric glory. They can do anything to each other and the bond can't be broken. They have hurt each other so much. Just so so much it's unfathomable from a human perspective but also...

I don't know that they've ever felt more human to me than they did in 2x07. Not to get too personal on main, but I've been in that unhappy toxic marriage, albeit to a much less insane degree. Still... I know how Lestat feels. I know how Louis feels too. But I especially know how it feels to be neglected by your lover the way Louis neglected Lestat in that very specific way. To want them so badly you ache every second of every day. It is literal hell on earth in a way you can never know until you experience it. To have someone withhold from you (esp as a way to punish you). That shit hurts. And I'm just so glad the show is addressing it while also not trying in any way to excuse the very fucked up thing Lestat did to Louis in response.

Anyway. That's not the point I'm trying to make. The point I'm trying to make is... they're going to be fine. The show wouldn't be putting such an emphasis on their relationship if it wasn't the whole point of the show. It's seriously the whole point of the show and it makes me insane! They both fucked up real bad but we already know they're bloodbound soulmates destined to be together. They're endgame. They're VAMPIRES. They live forever. They will forgive each other. Over and over. Forever and ever...

[the-iceni-bitch]

Through Every Forest

Chapter IV: Don’t Break

Relationship: Alpha!Curtis Everett x Omega!fem reader

Words: 5.3k

Summary: Curtis might have found a new way for you to make him money.

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! explicit language, explicit sexual content (flogging with a belt, fisting, f receiving oral sex, almost non-con penetration, exhibitionism), Omegaverse, dark to soft!dark Alpha Curtis, protectiveness, possessiveness, violence, mentions of minor medical procedures, character death, Alpha fight, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: It’s here!! Only took me forever but they’re back and maybe feeling things?

You whined when you opened your eyes as the sun filtered through the window in your room, sweating and shivering now that the fever from your heat had broken. Curtis woke too when he felt you rouse, his chest rumbling pleasantly under your cheek when you curled closer to him and pulled the blankets tighter around the both of you.

He had barely left your rooms since he brought you back from your last hunt, bathing with you and sleeping with you and letting you press your naked body close to his while he made you come over and over with his fingers. His men were unhappy with the situation, growing restless and grumbling every time they brought him some problem and he made them come into the room so you didn’t have to leave his lap while he fixed whatever issue there was. But he didn’t care, admonishing them that you were their money maker, and if he had to spoil you some so be it.

“Time to wake up.” He chuckled when you just growled at him, scenting your hair and kissing your temple while you tried to burrow further under the blankets. “C’mon girl, I have a fucking meeting I have to go to.”

“You mean you’re going to see one of those sluts.” You looked pissed when you let him crawl out from under you. The only times he had left you at all during your heat were when he had to get his knot taken care of. It didn’t matter how many times you offered to let him use your hands or your mouth, he just muttered some stupid shit about how selling you when you smelled like prime Alpha cum would be a disaster and went off to shove his cock inside some weak little bitch. He did enjoy when he came back from getting his dick wet, though, when you would scent him obsessively and snarl like a little hellcat while you hissed about him wasting his time with slits who weren’t even worth bonding.

“No, I have a fucking meeting.” Curtis gripped your chin and grunted when you just rolled your eyes, popping you once on the cheek in admonishment before pulling you out of bed and making you sit at the table to eat your breakfast. “Don’t be a fucking bitch about me lining up new assholes for you to try to rip apart.”

You just huffed, taking a grudging bite of your oatmeal and glaring at him sullenly. His grin got even wider when the door opened and you hissed at Bryce coming into your rooms, giving you a kiss on the top of your head when kept grumbling and snarling at the Alpha.

“They’re here.” Bryce was frowning at you and at Curtis, unable to fathom why the boss was so fond of you and seemed to be catering to your every whim. “You should probably get dressed.”

“Yeah, alright.” Curtis rolled his eyes when you let out another huff, not missing the way your eyes followed him as he pulled on clothes until he looked presentable. “You be good. Eat all your food and stretch then maybe after our walk I’ll pet you while you sit in my lap, would you like that?”

“Hmph.” He chuckled when you nodded grudgingly, patting your head before drawing up to his full height and following Bryce out the door. “If you come back smelling like one of those sniveling whores, I’m gonna throw a fit.”

Curtis gave a warning growl when the man looked like he was going to harp on the same issues he always did when it came to you, nodding when Bryce just shrugged and handed him the file he was holding.

The whale was waiting in Curtis’s office for them, shaking Curtis’s hand harder than necessary and giving him a look like he was sizing him up for a fight. He was used to it, unfamiliar Gamma Alpha’s always got like this the first time they were around Curtis. It was stupid, really, like he couldn’t just rip their spines out without even breaking a sweat.

“So, Clyde.” What a fucking stupid name. “You want to do a group hunt?”

“We do. We’re um… well.” Jesus, stammering? You were going to eat this asshole alive. “We’re looking for an Omega that can handle multiple bonds.”

“And why is that something you’re interested in?” Curtis was bored of this guy, of course one of Bryce’s frat boy buddies was an absolute tool. “Most Alpha’s don’t like parading around an Omega that’s visibly taken the damage of multiple bondings.”

“Oh, it won’t be going out in public.” The idiot was starting to look relaxed as he prattled on. “It’ll be the executive team’s stress relief, but we very much enjoy being able to feel it through the bond when another one of us is using it. We’ve got the perfect, progressive Omega and Beta partners at home, and it gets tiring. We need something that can take all of our stress and pent up frustration on. We had one before, but it broke pretty easily.”

The dumbass seemed to not recognize the look of restrained fury that was on Curtis’s face. They wanted to tie you up in a basement and use you like a fucking sex toy. They would abuse you every day and laugh about feeling your torment through the bond while they went out for drinks after work. He had called you an ‘it’ the entire time, like you were just a set of holes to be used up until you were a broken shell of yourself.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can provide what you’re looking for.” It was taking everything in Curtis’s power not to reach across the desk and strangle Clyde. “We provide mates to be taken during a hunt, or we offer stress relieving retreats for our Omegas to be used. We don’t just sell them off.”

“Oh, we want to hunt it first, for sure.” He was still smiling, and Curtis hated it. “And I know it’s out of the ordinary, but we’re willing to offer an exceptional payment to see this through.”

“I don’t think you understand me.” Curtis cracked his neck to try to relieve some of the tension that was building up in his system. “The answer is no.”

“Just, look at our offer.” This moron was clearly used to getting whatever he wanted, sliding a piece of paper across the desk to Curtis with that same smarmy look on his face. “Here.”

“I’m not…” Curtis clenched his jaw when he got a look at the number. It was more than he would typically pull in over a quarter, much less one hunt. He would have to be the world’s biggest idiot to turn this down.

The inner turmoil was making him frustrated. More than anything, he wanted to throw this douche through the window. But saying no to the money was stupid, so stupid. And it’s not like they would actually get you, they would just get the chance to try. You would tear them all apart, group hunt or no, you were savage. So he should take the money, right?

“Fine.” Curtis said it through gritted teeth, not taking Clyde’s hand when he offered it and just grunting at him instead. “We’ll set up a time for you to view her before Friday.”

“Fantastic.” He really hoped you killed this guy. “Oh, we have some requests about the viewing…”

Curtis was fuming by the time he stormed back to your chambers, practically slamming the door off its hinges when he opened it while you gave him a curious look. He didn’t give you the chance to ask any questions before he was drawing you into his arms and scenting your hair, his low growl letting you know that whatever was going on, he didn’t want to talk about it.

“Promise me you’ll do your best to kill those fuckers on Friday, filly.”

It was two days later when he brought you to the viewing area on your leash. He had been in an especially sour mood ever since his meeting, growling each time you tried to ask him what was wrong and taking his frustration out on your body instead. Curtis looked especially irritated now, tugging on your leash even though you weren’t lagging and glaring when you came to stand in front of him.

“You’re my tough girl, right?” Curtis cupped your jaw almost gently as he scowled at you. “My strong girl.”

“Yes.” The look you gave him was full of concern, your hands twitching as you fought the urge to run your hands over his chest and comfort him.

“They want to see how tough you are, filly.” Curtis’s hand slid down to run along your collar, his face ducking close to yours as he nodded towards what looked like a stake in the ground. “They want to know how much you can take.”

You just swallowed as you gazed at him, letting him drag you towards the stake as you glanced around at all the cameras. There was a chain hanging from the top, and Curtis fastened some cuffs to your wrists then to the chain so your shoulders were screaming from being stretched above your head. He gave you a look that was almost pained, but that couldn’t be right. Curtis gripped your chin and lifted your head so he could turn your face and show you to each of the individual cameras. Then he gave you one more look, waiting for you to nod before he backhanded you across the face as hard as he could.

Blood was filling your mouth when he did it again, and you spat it out on the ground before giving him a look of defiance. The corners of his lips twitched when you snarled at him, a low growl vibrating his chest when he gripped the front of your shift and shredded it. He took a moment to make sure the cameras could see your body, cupping your breasts and tugging on your nipples before forcing you to turn around and lean against the stake.

It was impossible to see what he was doing with the position you were in. All you could tell was that he was moving behind you and grabbing something. Then the belt landed against your thighs. You didn’t scream, you would never let anyone see you that weak, but you drew in a harsh breath as hot pain bloomed across your skin.

He wasn’t hitting you hard enough to draw blood, but you knew you were going to have bruises. You were biting your lip so hard you could feel blood running down your chin as you struggled not to cry out. It was impossible to tell how long he was beating you for, at some point all you could focus on was the deep, stinging pain that was spreading all over your thighs and ass and back. But you knew it had been a while, you were drenched with sweat by the time Curtis turned you around, and so was he.

Curtis’s expression was full of pride when he saw your face, the lack of tears making his heart swell even as he brought the belt down across your stomach and breasts. You only barely flinched each time the belt cracked against your skin, your eyes fixed on Curtis’s and his on yours. He looked feral, a savage light behind his eyes while he licked his lips and growled at the welts he was raising on your skin.

“How wet are you, filly?” Curtis dropped the belt and stepped close, gripping your hair painfully and yanking your head back as he towered over you. “Hmm? I can fucking smell you.”

“Fuck you.” You spat blood all over his shirt and smiled at him, gasping when he shoved his hand between your legs and smacked your messy pussy. “Does it make you hard to beat up defenseless Omegas?”

“You know it does, filly.” He had to fight the urge to kiss your forehead when he shoved two fingers inside you, chuckling when you immediately started fluttering around him. “And it makes you wet to get beat up, so shut the fuck up and take it.”

Your retort was cut off when he wrapped his other hand around your throat and squeezed, his fingers working you open viciously while his thumb pressed against your throbbing carotid. He started stroking that spot inside you like it was his job, sliding a third finger inside you when your juices started to leak down his wrist. The cameras were almost completely forgotten, it was just the two of you as he stretched open your hole obscenely and tried not to rest his forehead against yours.

When he shoved the fourth finger inside you you almost choked on your tongue, your toes curling in the dirt while your eyes rolled back in your head. He was being so rough. It used to make you feel sick that you enjoyed this sort of thing so much, but now you just embraced it, embraced him and the things he made you feel. The fourth finger stretched you to the point of pain, but it was pain you enjoyed. You didn’t even care anymore about the fact that you should hate him and everything he did to you. All you cared about was being good for him.

“That’s a good bitch.” Curtis huffed into your hair before stepping back as he dragged you up the stake by your neck, pushing his entire hand inside your abused pussy and grunting when you whined with pleasure. “You take all of this shit, your fucking love it. Show all your fans what a filthy little slut you are.”

Your entire body was shaking as he pumped his fist in and out of you, your toes barely scraping against the ground as he pinned you to the wood by your throat. This shouldn’t feel good, it shouldn’t make your cunt drool all over anything or make your eyes roll in your head. But it did. Curtis groaned when he shoved his hand so far inside you your lower tummy started to bulge, screwing his eyes closed when your body arched and you let out a thin wail. It didn’t take long at all before he started to feel your cunt clenching around his fist, your legs kicking wildly when he yanked his hand out of you so your release squirted out of you like a flood.

“Holy shit.” Curtis undid the cuffs and caught you when you almost collapsed, sneaking a kiss to your temple before lifting you into his arms and carrying you back inside the compound. “That’s my good girl. You did great, filly.”

Nurses and other med staff were waiting when he got you back to your rooms, but he sent them away, gently setting you in the tub and starting to wash the welts and bruises he’d left all over you as gently as he could.

“I know, you’re okay.” He kissed your head again when you whimpered and winced as he patted the cloth over a particularly savage mark on your breast, resting his forehead against yours as he continued washing you. “This is why you’re going to beat the shit out of the fuckers that made me do this to you. I’m so proud of you, sweet girl.”

It was the first time he had called you something other than filly, and it made your heart flutter against your ribs.

You were mostly recovered by the time the hunt came, only some fading bruises left on your skin that you were able to ignore. Curtis had decided he was going to stay in the lodge as he didn’t want to deal with those bastards any more than strictly necessary, but he had told you he knew you were going to rip them apart and called you his good girl before you left. The truck was empty except for you while Carter drove you to the drop off point, your breathing deep and even as your adrenaline started to spike.

This was your first group hunt, but you weren’t worried. From what Curtis had told you the Alphas that would be hunting you were a bunch of frat boy spoiled assholes, nothing that should prove challenging for you in the least. When the truck stopped you didn’t even bother waiting for Carter to help you down, hopping out of the bed and landing on your toes in the soft dirt before you started running into the woods after giving him just a brief nod. Your blood was already up, your senses heightened as you anticipated turning the tables on the pricks who thought they deserved you.

It was almost an hour before you caught the first whiff of them. They weren’t traveling in a pack, but they were close together, it seemed like they were moving in a straight line towards where you were hiding. When the first one got close enough you ran, keeping as quiet as you could even though you wanted to laugh wildly at how stupid their strategy was. You gained enough ground on him that you had time to scrabble up a tree, perching in one of the lower branches and waiting for your hunter to appear.

He didn’t take long, crashing through the brush like an idiot and making more noise than should have been possible as he sniffed the air and growled softly. As soon as he looked up you fell on him, snarling and hissing while you scratched his face and did your best to gouge his eyes while he shouted in pain. They all really were idiots, this one was barely a challenge before you brought him down to the forest floor and grabbed a rock to bash his skull in.

Then you heard the gunshot.

A second after you heard it you felt it, pain ripping through your thigh and making you scream when the force of the shot pushed you off your hunter and made you sprawl across the ground. They weren’t supposed to have guns, that was one of Curtis’s biggest rules. The whole point of the hunt was that it was a fair chance to bond a mate under ancient conditions.

Not that it mattered right now. The gun was there and all you could do was hope to outrun them. You groaned when you struggled to get to your feet, immediately collapsing again and shrieking when another bullet grazed your side and then your shoulder. Then they were all in the clearing, laughing and licking their lips hungrily when they surrounded you.

“Just look at it, so pretty even when it’s all bloodied up.” One of them laughed and dropped the rifle he was holding, tutting at you with mocking disappointment when you snarled and tried to throw dirt in his eyes. “None of that, we’re here to have a good time.”

They all pounced at once, tearing your shift off you and biting you viciously everywhere they could. You managed to scratch and kick a few of them but it was no use, there were too many. In just a few seconds they had you pinned on your stomach with your face shoved in the dirt, your wounds screaming as they forced your thighs open obscenely wide and laughed when you kept trying to thrash out of their grip.

“So feisty, just makes it even tighter for me.” The same one who spoke earlier was behind you now, and he spit on your face before laying on top of you and lining himself up. “Smell so good, bet it’s messy too.”

You screamed when you felt him at your entrance, but then there was a roar and one of the hands holding you was ripped away. A sickening thud reached your ears and then you were suddenly free, breathing heavily and rolling onto your side to see what had happened to make them leave you alone.

Curtis was standing there looking like wrath personified, his chest barely heaving but his lip lifted in a dangerous snarl that had all of the Alphas around you shrinking back. You spotted one of their bodies at the foot of a tree, blood smeared on the trunk from where Curtis had thrown him into it. His scent was sharp with the edge of pure aggression, his stance ready to fight them all while he stood over you and gave them a derisive sneer.

All at once they came back to themselves and realized they had him outnumbered, rushing him with a chorus of howls like they actually thought they could take him. When the first one reached him he just grabbed the idiot by the throat and used his body to take out two more of them, not even breaking a sweat when he flung the unconscious one away like it was nothing. The two that hadn’t been knocked aside managed to pounce on him together, all three Alphas grappling in a tangle of limbs and teeth until there was a horrible scream and Curtis rose from the fray with someone’s torn off ear in his mouth.

He was in the process of wrenching one of their arms out of the socket when another tried to sneak up behind him. You snarled when he got close, lunging as best as you could with your injuries and dragging him down to the ground so you could press your thumb into one of his eyes and crack your rock against his head. Then you saw one of them moving towards the edge of the clearing, your heart jumping into your throat when you saw him pick something up and screamed.

“Curtis, gun!”

Your Alpha turned whip fast and dodged the bullet just in time, roaring when he felt it graze the outside of his bicep before he charged the idiot who fired it. All of them went as white as sheets when he snatched out of the moron’s hand and bent the barrel like it was nothing. When he threw the gun aside again everyone froze, all of the Alphas staring at each other before Curtis stalked back to you and the sound of ATVs coming towards all of you filled the night.

“Enough!” Curtis snarled at Clyde over his shoulder when the dumbass shouted at him, scooping you up off the ground and turning to face the man. “We fucking paid for that, what the fuck so you think you’re doing?”

“You paid for the opportunity to hunt.” Curtis didn’t even want to look at the asshole, he couldn’t stop running his eyes over your body to assess what they had done to you. “A fair hunt. I don’t do canned hunts, if you want that shit you should go to Russia.”

“Russia doesn’t have Prime Omegas.” Clyde still had the audacity to look angry. “Now, I paid for that bitch, you’re going to let me leave with it, or I’m gonna blow up your whole operation.”

“Like fuck you will.” Curtis sneered at the man when he tried to take a step closer, hushing you when you scented his chest as the ATVs pulled up. “Unless you want everyone to know you and your buddies bond and keep unwilling Omegas as sex slaves. And don’t think you’re going to get the chance at any other compounds in North America. You just got yourself blacklisted from every hunting ground on the continent, congratulations. Now, tell my men how the fuck you managed to get a gun onto my property and maybe they’ll let you and your cronies get some medical attention before they drive you back to your disappointed wives.”

You shivered and nuzzled into Curtis’s chest further when he climbed onto an ATV and started to drive you back to the compound, letting his scent soothe you as much as possible while your adrenaline went down and the pain started to get worse. He still looked furious when he took you back to your rooms, sending away the medical staff again with an angry bark before setting you on the bed and beginning to carefully examine your injuries.

“You came for me.” You winced when he touched the bullet wound in your leg, looking at him with big eyes as he rinsed the blood from your skin. “Why?”

“I heard the gunshots.” It was the only explanation he wanted to give you, his hands gentle as he ran a damp cloth over your body.

“That’s not a fucking answer, Curtis.” You frowned when he refused to meet your eyes, barely even flinching when he started to stitch up the wounds in your thigh. “Maybe you would have banned them if they had pulled that shit with any of your other pathetic bitches, but look me in the eye and tell me you would have almost killed them if it was anyone other than me.”

His urge was to slap you for mouthing off to him, but then he saw the raised bruise already marring your face. Your eye was swollen shut, and whoever punched you must have been wearing a ring because there was a shallow cut in the middle of the mark. Curtis growled at the thin trickle of blood that was running down your cheek, putting down the sutures and needle holders before moving closer to you.

You drew in a sharp breath when he cupped your jaw, your body freezing up when he leaned forward and dragged his tongue over the cut. He purred and crooned as he cleaned the cut with his tongue, pulling you closer and nuzzling your cheek gently while he licked you. As soon as he was satisfied he ducked so he could do the same to the bullet graze on your shoulder, the scrape of his beard against your skin while he worked only adding to your sense of comfort.

Curtis laid you down on the bed so he could find every wound and lick it clean, his tongue warm on your skin as his breath creeped over your body. Your breath got shorter when he stretched his body over yours, your eyelids growing heavier when he gazed up at you with some unreadable emotion written all over his face.

“Curtis…” You gasped when he licked the wound on your side, letting him spread your thighs around his ribs while his hands held your waist.

“Honey…” He screwed his eyes closed when the sentiment came out of his mouth unbidden, groaning before he nipped at the soft skin of your stomach. “Just shut the fuck up.”

His tongue dragged over your slit and you moaned, your fingers gripping the sheets under you tightly as he set to work. The movements he made were almost lazy, but they were heavy and sensuous and very close to overwhelming. Your eyes fluttered closed when he gently circled your clit, his large hands pressing against your stomach to keep you still as he feasted on you.

Curtis couldn’t stop watching your face while he devoured you. He spread your soft petals with his tongue so he could delve inside you, groaning into your pussy when your slick flooded his mouth until he was drowning in you. Just like that he knew. If it had been any other Omega out there tonight he wouldn’t have given two shits about them, he would’ve just banned the assholes for breaking his rules and put the poor bitch out of her misery. But as soon as he heard those gunshots tonight he had lost it, because it was you. None of those bastards deserved you, only him.

“Mine…” He growled into your cunt as he kept fucking you with his tongue, pressing his face into you even further when your scent took over his mind. “My good girl.”

Your mouth dropped open in a silent sob when his lips wrapped around your clit, your hips fighting against his hands when you felt his tongue swiping over your swollen little nub. The only warning you had to stay still was his grunt and a light nip to your pussy lips before his tongue was inside you again, the thick muscle stroking your insides while he moaned and slurped. He could feel you getting closer, making out with your sweet little cunt like it was his job as he chased the pleasure that he knew only he would be giving you from now on.

His tongue slid out of you so he could press it against your swollen clit, humming while he licked the little bundle of nerves until he heard your breath catch. When he sucked it again you sobbed, your whole body shivering while you fell apart and soaked his beard with your release. Your chest kept heaving with deep breaths as he licked your pussy clean, tears running down your cheeks when he was finally finished and crawled back up your body.

“Sleep.” Curtis kissed your forehead then paused for a second, giving you a curious look before he pressed his lips to yours and purred softly when he felt you relax underneath him. “I have one thing to take care of then I’ll be back, I promise. You need to rest, sweet girl.”

“Okay.” You sniffled and let your eyes fall closed when he pulled the blankets over your body, your breathing evening out as exhaustion started to overtake you.

Curtis waited until he heard you snoring softly before leaving your rooms, frowning when Carter was waiting for him in the hall and striding towards one of the cells that were underground. He ignored the sounds of crying and the sharp smell of fear as he went lower and lower, his jaw set and his arms crossed over his chest while he waited for Carter to unlock the door. The sight of Bryce chained to the floor made him snarl, his fists clenching before he started to roll his sleeves up his arms.

“Everett…” Bryce coughed when Curtis punched him in the face and snapped his head to the side, the younger Alpha spitting blood onto the floor when he just managed to catch himself. “That Omega bitch is gonna quit being new sooner than later, I was trying to make you more money.”

“You gave those fuckers a rifle, dumbass.” Curtis punched him again and shook the blood off his fist. “I have rules for a fucking reason. If they’re gonna get broken it’s on my say so, not your whim.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re pussy whipped for that slut.”

“Maybe, but she’s got more balls than you and she’s a whole lot better to look at, you insubordinate piece of shit.” Curtis was bored and tired of this asshole’s face. “Baizen, you and the rest of the guys need a good stress relief?”

“Nah boss.” Carter just smiled when Bryce sneered at him. “We all hit the stables earlier, we’re good. This dick isn’t worth it anyway.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” Curtis took the pistol Carter handed him and ignored Bryce’s sudden pleading, leveling the pistol at him and then shooting him in the head. “Get rid of the body.”

“No problem, boss.” Carter whistled and a crew of Betas came in with a saw and some tarp. “He was right about her novelty wearing off though, clients are gonna get sick of chasing something unattainable eventually.”

“I’m not too worried about that.” Curtis let a small smile tug at the corner of his lips, wiping the blood off his hands when Carter handed him a towel. “I’ve got a plan for her to bring us in one more good haul.”

[aroaceconfessions]

i feel so alone. everyone thinks sex is essential in a romantic relationship. i want love. i want a beautiful romantic partnership. but i don't want sex. i just can't do it. i'm trans and it would make me insanely dysphoric, aside from maybe a few acts, but even then i wouldn't want to do it as often as i'm "supposed" to. everyone around me thinks sex is a "need" in a relationship, a dealbreaker. it's fucking depressing. it doesn't matter how good of a partner you are, how much you click, how much of an emotional bond you've built. if sex is off the table, they're "unsatisfied". the relationship is unhappy despite everything else being great. i'm sorry, i struggle so hard to empathise with that. my comfort should be more important than your orgasms. the bond and life we build together should be more important than your orgasms. and at the end of the day, you still have two hands. cope.

i feel like i see so many horror stories from ace people where their partner values sex more than the comfort and boundaries of the person they supposedly love, and it's so accepted and normal to behave that way. so many stories where the ace person made it very clear that they would not be having sex and the partner seemed fine with it until time went on and they became resentful. and the comments on these posts are always like "but remember it's okay to need sex in a relationship that's fine too :)" like yeah no shit!! that's already what we're told!! that's literally what's expected!! most people want sex in their relationships. you aren't the one who's going to have trouble finding a partner because of this expectation. why are YOU so worried? why did you need to butt in and make it about you?

i'm so sure i'm gonna be single forever at this point. how am i ever going to find someone? i just can't wrap my brain around why everyone worships sex. really i can't

Submitted May 19, 2023

[lieut-dundy-le-vesconte]

if you cant sleep, scrawl some shit down by lantern light and maybe you'll feel better

//ooc transcription under the cut

Dec. 21, 1846

Solstice, tho it doesn’t matter much. Georgie dearest my Geo. my bf now. And secret admirer not Lt. Little as suspected but an EJ Helpman who cannot fuck for the life of him but he had the audacity to ask after me as bedfellow. John (Irving) now confessing he’s his undying love to me; something in his mind about wanting to leave this Earth. I get it, we all do. Hope he will not leave; I love him so. Felt today (or was it yesterday?) he may have wanted to kiss me; know that he is happy and healthy w/ Mr. … Dr? Goodsir and do not want a repeat of all matter of issues currently being dealt w/. Almost lost dearest Geo.; were it not for my honesty in admitting how dear he is to me; may have lost him, tho on him to stay w/ me as well and not deny me when my truths had been revealed. Tho I will admit; I would definitely not have minded kissing John as he is a pretty sort, and kind, and anything to give him happiness and pleasure is on my mind. He is taken and so am I but I cannot help my mind from wandering and do wonder what kind of sounds he would make and how he would taste and feel, his hands on my skin, his eyes looking into mine… Terrible of me consider; I’d so hate to be the cause of such unhappiness. Jopson and dear Franc Cap. Crozier have broken up, most likely due to Cap.’s kindness in taking me in and comforting me. I so dearly love him for it; but I hate to have caused such trouble (tho I feel it’s a long time coming since they are both men who tend to doubt themselves (I think.) I will Jop. has come to Erebus, I will try and talk w/ him soon. Hope things will be fixed, hate to see them both so low and it is a danger to us all to have a Captain who is depressed and suicidal.

But I understand. It is terrifying to be loved. I’m so sure someday I might lose those I love. They can love me all they want and I them, but I am still unused to it, still fear I can’t trust them, there may still be some catch. I must… test them. To ensure the bonds are strong. To ensure they stay unlike Jam Fitzjamie, unlike Margareta, unlike all those who upon seeing what ugliness I am made of finally decided to leave me behind. Once these bonds are tested and their strength ensured, then I’ll know that they’ll stay. That Then I’ll know how strong and real and true their love truly is.

—HTDLeV.

I continue. Have I mentioned how much I love dearest Georgie? B/c I do. He’s beautiful and kind and so sweet and so lovely w/ me. And soft and I can’t get the blue of his eyes out of my mind and the soft curls that frame his face and his long fingers and the smell of him. I did not know I could love a man so much. Truly I am most obsessed w/ him and hope we have many many good years together, that we’ll leave here, that I will be able to remain by his side forever. I love you so fucking much it hurts. My most dearest and most beloved Georgie. Stay w/ me, please. Never leave. I love you, I really really love you forever and ever and ever fuck me. Maybe you’ll I’d hope you think the same. (tho I think I know you do).

—Love you always, <333 Henry.

[otsukare-katsukare]

my current job has me doing a lot of standing/walking around a museum with little to do but think, so i've been trying to fantasy book a final feud for sami and kevin. context being the build to kevin's hypothetical retirement, where his final match will be with sami of course (barring his inevitable returns to the ring as a hall of famer to put over rising talent). i was trying to think how you could make a feud work with them one last time without it just seeming like turning back the clock. cause while they have fought on and off since kevin's wwe debut, they never fully figured out their shit until this year, and now their bond feels sure, not vulnerable to betrayal the way it has been in the past. i ended up imagining the most self indulgent wish fulfilment scenario possible culminating in a 2 out of 3 falls match for the universal title which sami wins off a heel-turned kevin. warning it's so so cheesy. and way too many things at once. ahem,

the build starts with universal champion!kevin unhappy and lashing out, because despite having the world title he knows he's near the end, and he has no one in his corner on smackdown (they kind of have to be on separate brands and have been growing apart again for this to work). it's almost as hollow as his first universal title reign, and his charming sarcasm has curdled into ugly bitterness.

then sami comes out of the woodwork on Raw, titleless but still doing very well as one of the top babyfaces, still optimistic despite everything. and maybe he hasn't been calling kevin or getting coffee with him as much as they used to. he's just so busy lately! but now kevin's going back to his old ways and he has to try and talk him down. it goes about as well as you'd expect, kevin starting off cordial and warm before the resentment quickly bubbles up and he starts slinging lower blows than he has in years, specifically at sami once again proving unable to keep up with him as a champion-level competitor. kevin wasn't even trying to get in the world title picture until recently, he practically took it in his sleep! how long's sami been vainly trying to snag the WHC? what about that historic anti climax at elimination chamber 2023? (NB kevin doesn't get the title off roman in my mind but im not booking that far back) face it, he snarls to a dismayed-but-sadly-not-that-surprised sami, the only meaningful gold he was ever getting was with kevin by his side.

he basically forces sami to challenge him for that universal title, pushing his buttons every way he can. sami's pretty reluctant at first, not wanting to fall for kevin's mind games all over again, and really thinking they were past this shit. but unfortunately he's sami and one thing about sami is he falls in the trap even when he knows it's a trap, and he just cannot resist such a blatant challenge. it's cesaro, neville, strowman, roman, everyone who's told him to his face he'll never be that guy and to just stay down. and, well, after their first match up in a long while, his age old obsessions with proving those guys wrong and with fighting kevin owens forever take over, and they're all set for wrestlemania. (or summerslam. i'm not too proud)

it's 2 out of 3 falls because that kind of feels like the perfect way to cap it all off, the format that put sami zayn on the map in the first place, and the one that lets kevin owens Fucking Finally do his package piledriver into a successful pin without giving him the match. here my novice understanding of good match planning comes up short. they would come up with something extremely brilliant and heartbreaking, but my thinking was the pin order goes sami-kevin-sami - with the first pin coming quite a way into the match, and the second quick on its heels. they'll do all their favourite callbacks except battleground cause that one has been overdone by this point even if it is the most poetic one. it's visceral and violent but also kind of joyous. and very melancholic. fully them, basically.

the emotional arc is focused a little more on kevin, who is tired and angry and consciously trying to embody the monster he always used to be against sami, hardening himself up. there's one moment towards the end where sami's down, the ref's incapacitated and kevin gets a chair, face full of murderous intent until he actually gets to sami, where he just stops. doesn't even seem to have an internal conflict about hitting him with it, just stands there, waits for sami to notice him and flinch back, and then waits some more, locking eyes with sami in a silent conversation while he gets back to his feet, before tossing the chair aside and punching him in the head. (cue their beloved #1 single, Hockey Punches of Love.)

sami wins the world title at long last, and everything is beautiful. any apparent hatred that was fuelling this match evaporates the milisecond it ends. because it was never really about kevin not believing in him, but kevin wanting more than anything for sami to get the official recognition he deserves, and wanting no one else to take the title off him, knowing how to play the game (both the in-universe manipulation and his characteristic genre awareness), and above all, kevin wanting to fight his best friend one last time. he tries to let sami have the moment to himself, dragging himself to the corner of the ring too exhausted to even stand, but sami won't have it, not after what they just did, not after their last match. they hug the life out of each other, and cut a couple of very emotional promos on each other that probably come directly from their real actual hearts so I wouldn't try and script them here.

that's all i have. i'd be interested to know what the twc thinks re: these two in another feud/if they should even have one!

[ryanlockheart]

when fletcher moved in, beau hadn't expected a whirlwind of emotions to come over him... but they had. fletcher had easily become his closest friend. whether it was eating dinner together or listening to beau rant about a long day at work, they had forged some kind of bond. things had taken an unexpected turn since beau had caught fletcher touching himself with a pair of beau's dirty socks, and now, all the slightly older male could think about was the raven-haired male. "yeah, but we're friends. 's a little different than just roomies," beau replied. "i mean... you wanna get to know me a little better, this'll be the best way to, fletchie." there was a smug smirk on his lips, clearly proud of his little scheming. was beau happy with ashley? no. had the flame died down? yes, but he could hardly blame that on fletcher. once he'd came into his life, beau realized he'd been unhappy for awhile. fletcher was merely the catalyst for allowing himself to see things without rose-tinted glasses. "i'd hardly say you aren't interesting," beau corrected. "i mean, the sock stealing, the li'l names you give your plants, how you always do little art in your lattes... i mean, i could go on. i notice all those little things about you, fletch." it was impossible to deny that beau was attracted to fletcher. he just didn't know how that would impact their situation — or himself. he'd never been attracted to a man before, never even thought it was in the realm of possibility for him before. "'m not blamin' you, babyface. i'm just sayin' you should come out with it. stop hidin' shit 'cause i know you wanna get it straight from the source," beau hummed. he was clearly proud of himself, proud of the little number he was doing on fletcher. he loved seeing how hot and bothered he could get the smaller boy. the image of his roommate, nose buried in one of beau's sweaty socks, was engrained in his mind forever. just thinking about it again had his cock rising in his sweatpants. "i'd wanna see that. 'm sure plenty of people would too," beau chirped back. "i'll take it slow on you first if you want, princess... but don't you think it's time you stop playin' around with boys and start dealin' with men? a real man with a big cock that can fuck you just how you need — with a sock shoved in that pretty li'l mouth," beau answered back. his favorite thing about that moment, though, was seeing the color on fletcher's cheeks. the rosier his cheeks were, the more smug it made beau. his cock was throbbing just at the sight of his roommate, itching to get a peek at him down on his knees. "i mean, if you walked in on me jerkin' it, i know you'd be thinkin' about it all the time. you prolly already did when you saw me walkin' around butt-naked," beau answered with a chuckle. "i should've. i would've made you cum so hard. i'd fuckin' pound the life outta you. you'd be pissin' all over yourself from the pleasure, baby girl." beau finally closed the distance between the two of them. their knees were touching now; he was so close, he could almost feel fletcher's breath on his skin. "whenever you want. if you want 'em right now, they're already yours," beau promised. "gotta warn you, though... worn these for, like, three workouts straight, so they're rank." his legs extended out again, putting those sweaty feet right back up on the coffeetable. he took fletcher's hand in his own and guided him right to the bulge of his sweatpants. "why don't we have a practice round, huh? show me how pretty you look down sucking daddy's toes before we bust out the camera," beau suggested, a mischievous glint in his brown eyes.

since the day he moved in, fletcher felt like he was walking on eggshells. certainly not because beau was strange, rude, or stand-offish — but because he was the exact kind of trouble that fletcher was known for getting himself into. it was hard to act like he had any sense when his roommate was constantly showing off his bulging biceps and sweaty feet, and fletcher's sanity was running thin. "of course we're spending a lot of time together... we're roommates?!" fletcher huffed. "and we're almost always never alone, because she's always here. so maybe i'm jealous of her for not letting me properly get to know my room — wait, what do you mean it's for us?" truthfully, fletcher couldn't have cared less about ashley. he only tolerated her irksome presence in an earnest effort to please beau. but the other boy didn't even seem happy with her anymore, so maybe this was his way of making his escape. "but... why would you be watching me? i'm not that interesting, beau," fletcher said timidly, eagerly awaiting the answer. he would have never imagined that beau was anything but straight, but maybe there was more to the other than met the eye. fletcher liked to think that he was observant, that nothing got past him... but it was beginning to look like he was too busy counting himself out to notice that he was rising to the top of the list. "let's say i have been stealing your socks, wouldn't it kind of be your fault? you're always leaving them around, and they're always soaked with soaked... its only natural for me to want a sniff," the smaller boy reasoned. just when he thought he was starting to gain control, beau had to go on and one-up him. fletcher couldn't take his eyes off of those big, sweaty feet — crossed at the ankle, toes wiggling teasingly in his socks as though he was putting on a show just for fletcher's eyes. "it's just so big. i've never seen one so huge before... but taking it? and on camera? i'd probably be crying and sweaty and acting like a total whore. who would want to see me like that?" fletcher asked, cheeks flushed bright pink. he couldn't believe that he was actually given the idea any consideration, but it was beau. he already cooked his meals, did his laundry, made his bed, and basically all the things his girlfriend should do. why shouldn't he get to reap the benefits? "you've been thinking about me? like, seriously?" fletcher almost gasped. he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "i... you should have taken me then. i was so high off your socks, i would have done anything you wanted me to. you could have been pounding this ass, pushing my face into the mattress with your foot... i would have taken every load you had in you," the smaller boy admitted, palming at his aching cock through his sweatpants. "whenever i want them? what if ashley's here... like she is right now?" fletcher said hesitantly. his eyes flicked over to beau's bedroom door at the end of the hall, wondering how heavy a sleeper the girl must be. he wanted to keep her in the back of his mind, but those feet were still right there, and his eyes never left them. fletcher was growing desperate, and beau was making it harder to deny. "i... yeah. yes, i'm absolutely in. just pull out your camera and tell me when — i'll do it."

[dubiousdisco]

I posted 30,457 times in 2022

That's 22,462 more posts than 2021!

1,704 posts created (6%)

28,753 posts reblogged (94%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@boneseses

@cultofthepigeon

@katekanemybeloved

@gravedangerahead

@elbiotipo

I tagged 11,786 of my posts in 2022

#art - 2,186 posts

#arcane tag - 1,074 posts

#dc - 949 posts

#stranger things - 795 posts

#byler - 446 posts

#silco - 360 posts

#goncharov - 351 posts

#pokemon - 224 posts

#unreality // - 195 posts

#novela tag - 189 posts

Longest Tag: 127 characters

#bonus parallel: nancy and will bonding over being good at shooting while mike and jonathan just stand there like 🧍🏼‍♂️🧍🏼‍♂️

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

(x)

1,701 notes - Posted September 23, 2022

#4

every "joker dies" story is just joker doing horrible shit and going "I bet you actually like me. I bet you even love me" while batman screams that he hates the joker through the whole story until the end when joker dies and batman is like "oh shit actually I loved you. guess i will either be unhappy forever or just die right here" and you know what every single time it fucks

you want what they have so bad

1,860 notes - Posted May 25, 2022

#3

we don't talk enough about this

2,395 notes - Posted November 20, 2022

#2

Jonathan Byers' application to the "Mike Wheeler Hate Club" is still under review because Jonathan is the founder of the "Will Byers Protection Squad" of which Mike is president. MWHC founder Hopper and MWHC president Max think there might be a conflict of interest

Jonathan has appealed and is now writing his formal explanation regarding the so called 'conflict'. He will have it submited in 3 days time.

After this, Max and Hopper shall deliberate for 5 to 15 days before publishing their decision.

3,009 notes - Posted September 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

jonathan's college of choice isn't even the one nancy is going to, he sacrificed his dream college to be with her, then sacrificed being with her to be able to provide for his family and didn't tell her so she wouldn't have to sacrifice anything for him. and he didn't tell his family either so they wouldn't worry about him.

will's used his confession to help mike and el's relationship, sacrificing his own happiness so the two of them could be happy. Then Jonathan tells will he will always be there for him and will tells him he will be there for him too, he doesn't even let the moment of comfort that should be reserved for him be only for him.

I'm losing my mind over these brothers, they really think priorizing everyone's happiness over their own is the right thing to do, that the one acceptable outcome is to make everyone they love happy and that their own happiness isn't even on the table if they can make their loved ones happy, that their own happiness is the first thing to go if needed. and the thing is, Will won't be happy anyway, because Jonathan will be unhappy because of his choices, and Jonathan won't be happy anyway because Will won't be happy. Their self sacrifice will only make the people who love them unhappy and they don't even realize it! They don't even realize it!!!!!!

3,261 notes - Posted July 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[gallavictorious]

Just read your meta about the bedroom scene in 11x11 and was wondering what your thoughts on Mickey's uncharacteristic resignation in the beginning of the episode are 👀👀 I was curious about this when I watched the episode and I always love your takes!

Hiya, nonnie! At long last, here are Thoughts!

Mickey isn't usually shy about expressing his opinions and rarely hesitates to take action whenever a situation isn't to his liking, so seeing him so resigned and reticient in the first half of 11x11 is very jarring to me. I know some people think their exchange on the first morning in the flat cute, and that's perfectly fine because to each their own, but I find it highly uncomfortable. (Doesn't mean I think it's a bad scene; I think it's a fantastic scene.) Mickey hiding his true feelings isn't new, but the way he's doing it, and doing it with Ian at this point... ? That's strange, I think, and painful.

Now, and as I've argued before, Mickey is not a passive person in general; rather, he's a proactive person with a lot of initiative, but when he perceives himself unable to affect an unfortunate situation he prefers to not engage with it at all. That's his coping strategy: no dwelling, no bemoaning the unfairness of it all, no wasting any time or effort dreaming of what could have been if only. What would be the point? Instead, he rolls with whatever, and perseveres; Mickey, like most of the Shameless characters, is nothing if not resilient. Given that, his initial reaction to Ian signing the lease isn't all that strange; he's pissed, sure, but the deed is done, so what the fuck is there to do but move? (Well, there's also taking your frustrations out on Lip, I suppose... )

I mean, he could have put his foot down; could have refused to move and made Ian rip up the lease, forfeiting whatever money they'd be required to pay for the deposit/first/last/whatever. But as @dreamylyfe-x's noted before, Mickey doesn't think he has enough power here to pull that off. He doesn't trust that him saying no, I'm not doing this would be enough to stop it from happening.  And to be fair, he has very good reason not to think that, considering that Ian did just sign the lease, after Mickey explicitly telling him that he doesn't want to move. So sure, Mickey could refuse to move, but he doesn't trust that this will stop Ian from moving. I think it would have, incidentally; Ian might have moved out initially, gambling—as he did when he signed the lease—on Mickey folding, but once he realized that Mickey was serious, he'd have given up on the West Side—as he does by the end of 11x11. But Mickey isn't so sure, so he figures that Ian moves either way, and Mickey is left with the choice of staying on the South Side alone or following Ian.

Mickey will follow Ian anywhere.

They move to the West Side, and because it's an inevitability Mickey gives up bitching about it. No use in crying over what you can't change, so better make the best of it, right? But try as he might—and he does try, focusing on practical things to make their new place functional as quickly as possible—he is emphatically not okay, and while part of that might be genuine unhappiness with moving out of the South Side I don't think that's the main issue. (He didn't seem to torn up about the prospect of staying in Mexico forever, as long as Ian was with him, and earlier in the episode he himself suggests them both moving far south.) Rather, it's Ian ignoring his clearly stated refusal and what he's ignoring it for that messes with him, and arguably triggers some old fears and feelings.

Part of it, perhaps, is fear of Ian going somewhere Mickey can't follow. “Stop doing shady shit and grow some tomatoes,” Ian says, and while he only wants them both to be happy and stable and safe, it's not hard to see why Mickey might read this as rejection, as Ian moving towards a different sort of life and if Mickey can't keep up and fit in with that, then... well. Maybe Ian won't choose him. The whole thing just reminds me—and reminds Mickey, I suspect—of their parting in 7x11: “I want you to come with me,” Mickey tells Ian, and is met with “This isn't me anymore.” Ian loves Mickey, then as he does now; but love isn't enough. Who can say that it will be now, if push comes to shove? (Sidenote, lest anyone get the wrong idea: I think Ian absolutely made the right call in not going with Mickey to Mexico.) For all they're getting better and better at communicating about the difficult shit, I think it's fear that there's still some lingering abandonment and trust issues on Mickey's part; I find it very interesting to note that he immediately suspects that Ian had planned the  whole thing from the beginning when Ian brings up signing the lease. I don't think Mickey walks around worrying over Ian leaving him on a daily basis—I think that in general he has a lot of faith in the strenght of their bond because it's survived a hell of a lot—but feelings are complicated. You can know that your partner loves you above all else and still feel occasionally insecure, especially if something happens that pokes at old wounds.

Mickey isn't happy about the move but he wants it to work out—and arguably not only because he's perhaps concerned about his own place in the life Ian envisions, but because he genuinely wants Ian to be happy and have the things he wants. Seeing your partner being so excited about something, you do your best not to ruin that for them, yeah? Mickey would never want to stand in the way of Ian feeling good and content. So, he tries to make the best of it, which is pretty standard Mickey behavior—but it still gets messy and weird, partly because he's also feeling like he has to pretend to be fine with it, and partly (mostly) because it's Ian who's put him in this position.

Because the thing is, hiding his emotions doesn't come naturally to Mickey. There have been certainly been (many) times in his life when he's felt compelled to fake his feelings and being okay, but that's always been motivated by acute need; he quite literally risked his life if he admitted his feelings for Ian or wasn't a convincing husband to Svetlana. So, thinking he has to fake his feelings with Ian, i.e. the one person who's always been so very good at seeing the real Mickey and loving the real Mickey... I think that messes with him. I think Ian being the one to (initially) completely disregard his feelings about moving messes with him, because having his feelings and opinions not matter unless he can make them matter, isn't new to Mickey, but he didn't expect it from Ian.

The situation isn't unfamiliar, but being thrust into it by Ian, that fucks with Mickey; having all of those old feelings of helplessness actualized by the person he loves best and the person he always trusted to treat Mickey as an equal? That's rough. And because it is Ian, whom he loves and wants to be with and make happy, Mickey's old strategies for coping doesn't quite work; he doesn't know how to navigate this, becaue he doesn't want to fake his way through his relationship with Ian. And that's why he seems so unsure and withdrawn and quiet; so reticient. Resigned. He's trying to make this work, but he's not okay, and he doesn't know how to be okay, and that's fucking with him.

And it's fucking with me, I think, because it's like watching Mickey trying to make himself small and quiet and fit into this little cramped space he imagines he has to occupy now. I'm glad it doesn't last very long; and that once Ian realizes that Mickey's discomfort is quite genuine, he is very ready to abandon his West Side dreams, yet again proving where his priorities lie.

As always, this is tentative and my thoughts may well change over time. If anyone else wants to chime in with additional perspectives, I'd be delighted.

[unclecassian]

On the Topic of SJM Breaking My Heart in ACOMAF

*Spoilers for A Court of Thorns and Roses and A Court of Mist and Fury*

No matter how many times I re-read the entire ACOTAR series, especially ACOMAF, SJM never fails to break my heart with her writing. So here is a list I made of all the lines from ACOMAF that ripped me in two 🥴 

“Alone in my bedroom, I realized I couldn’t remember the last time I’d truly laughed.”

“I might even cry for my mother, who had never cared for me, anyway. I might beg her to save me—” 

“The sentries returned in full force the next morning.”

“He’d locked me in here… He’d locked me in. He’d sealed me inside this house… I couldn’t get out; I couldn’t get out; I couldn’t get out—”

“Maybe it’d be a mercy to be ended— A broad hand gripped my face—gently enough not to hurt, but hard enough to make me look at him. ‘Don’t you ever think that,’ Rhysand hissed, his eyes livid. ‘Not for one damned moment.’” 

“Some small part of me whispered that I could survive Amarantha; I could survive leaving Tamlin; I could survive transitioning into this new, strange body… But that empty cold hole in my chest… I wasn’t sure I could survive that. Even the years I’d been one bad week away from starvation, that part of me had been full of color, of light. Maybe becoming a faerie had broken it. Maybe Amarantha had broken it. Or maybe I had broken it, when I shoved that dagger into the hearts of two innocent faeries and their blood had warmed my hands.”

“‘I’m thinking that I must have been a fool in love to allow myself to be shown so little of the Spring Court. I’m thinking there’s a great deal of that territory I was never allowed to see or hear about and maybe I would have lived in ignorance forever like some pet. I’m thinking…’ The words became choked. I shook my head as if I could clear the remaining ones away. But I still spoke them. ‘I’m thinking that I was a lonely, hopeless person, and I might have fallen in love with the first thing that showed me a hint of kindness and safety.’”

“‘As long as the people who matter the most know the truth, I don’t care about the rest.’”

“...when I had belonged to Tamlin and been little more than a spy and prisoner.”

“I had done everything—everything for that love. I had ripped myself to shreds, I had killed innocents and debased myself, and he had sat beside Amarantha on that throne. And he couldn’t do anything, hadn’t risk it—hadn’t risked being caught until there was one night left, and all he’d wanted to wasn’t free me, but fuck me, and—… And when Amarantha had broken me, when she had snapped my bones and made my blood boil in its veins, he’d just knelt there and begged her. He hadn’t tried to kill her, hadn’t crawled for me. Yes, he’d fought for me—but I’d fought harder for him… And he had the nerve once his powers were back to shove me in a cage. The nerve to say I was no longer useful; I was to be cloistered for his peace of mind. He’d given me everything I needed to become myself, to feel safe, and when he got what he wanted—when he got his power back, his lands back… he stopped trying. He was still good, still Tamlin, but he was just… wrong.”

“And maybe I was exhausted and broken, but I breathed, ‘I killed them.’ I hadn’t said the words aloud since it had happened. Cassian’s lips tightened. ‘I know.’ Not condemnation, not praise. But grim understanding. My hands slackened as another shuddering sob worked its way through me. ‘It should have been me.’”

“And it wasn’t sorrow, or despair, or terror that hit me, but… unhappiness. Such bleak, sharp unhappiness… I was unhappy—not just broken. But unhappy. An emotion, I realized. It was an emotion, rather than the unending emptiness or survival-driven terror.”

“It’d just been a relief to think that for a moment, he might have been as lonely as me.”

“He flinched. The most powerful High Lord in history flinched. And I knew I’d hit hard—and deep. Too hard. Too deep.”

“‘And yet I found myself deciding that if you took his hand, I would find a way to live with it. It would be your choice.’ I sipped from my wine. ‘And if he had grabbed me?’ There was nothing but uncompromising will in his eyes. ‘Then I would have torn apart the world to get you back.’”

“‘I wonder if some part of me knew what was waiting for me. That I would never be a gentle grower of things, or someone who burned like fire—but that I would be quiet and endurining and as faceted as the night… I wonder if, even in my despair and hopelessness, I was never truly alone. I wonder if I was looking for this place—looking for you all.’... ‘I was looking for you, too,’ Rhys murmured.”

“And I saw the pain and sorrow in his eyes. Saw it and didn’t care, not as that thing in my chest was twisting and breaking. Not as my heart—my heart—ached, so viciously that I realized it’d somehow been repaired in these past few months. Repaired by him. And now it hurt.”

“And there it was. A future. The future I saw for myself, bright as the sunrise over the Sidra. A direction, and a goal, and an invitation to see what else immortality might offer me. It did not seem so listless, so empty, anymore.”

THE ENTIRETY OF CHAPTER 54 BUT I’LL JUST GIVE THE HIGHLIGHTS:

“‘And then—then I learned your name. Hearing you say it… it was like an answer to a question I’d been asking for five hundred years.’”

“‘I knew that you were my mate, and you were in love with another male, and had destroyed yourself to save him, and that… that I didn’t care.’”

“‘If you were going to die, I was going to die with you. I couldn’t stop thinking it over and over as you screamed, as I tried to kill her: you were my mate, my mate, my mate. But then she snapped your neck… And I felt you die… And this beautiful, wonderful thing that had come into my life, this gift from the Cauldron… It was gone.’”

“‘But I felt you through the bond, through your open mental shields. I felt your pain and sadness, and loneliness. I felt you struggling to escape the darkness of Amarantha the same way I was. I heard you were going to marry him, and I told myself you were happy. I should let you be happy, even if it killed me. Even if you were my mate, you’d earned that happiness.’”

“My friend through many dangers. My lover who had healed my broken and weary soul. My mate who had waited for me against all hope, despite all odds.”

“If I hadn’t already been in love with him, I might have loved him for that—for not insisting I stay, even if it drove his instincts mad, for not locking me away in the aftermath of what had happened yesterday. And I realized—I realized how badly I’d been treated before, if my standards had become so low. If the freedom I’d been granted felt like a privilege and not an inherent right.”

“‘Don’t let him take me,’ I sobbed again. ‘I don’t want to go back.’ And when I looked at Mor, at the tears streaming down her face as she helped Cassian get upright, I knew she realized what I meant.”

“‘I don’t give a shit if she’s your mate. I don’t give a shit if you think you’re entitled to her. She is mine.’”

“I cleared my head, my shattering heart—breaking for what my mate had done, sacrificed for me and my family. For her sisters. Because she hadn’t thought… hadn’t thought she was essential. Even after all she had done.”

*wipes tears away* yall crying too? no? oh ok cool,,,

[cindyburman]

How do you think the Arrowverse Justice League would react to seeing a fifteen year old superhero? Would they include courtney in the team or take her to world ending fights? If you have any headcanons hand them over please

omg i absolutely love this ask. disclaimer though, i’ve never watched arrow or flash so my knowledge of them is limited to crossovers so i’m just gonna. ignore them for now. that being said...

the legends are like “oh another jsa? cool.” and that’s it. they’ve seen weirder shit.

the legends are all such enablers but wbk. courtney’s like “yeah i blew up an evil guy’s car accidentally :/” and sara’s like “nice. go for his house next time.” yolanda’s five seconds from having an aneurysm the whole time they’re on the waverider (“i hoped that courtney would become more responsible as she gained more experience, but you guys have been doing this for YEARS and you’re just as bad”)

courtney tried to convince lita to join and she almost succeeds but then mick is just like “no. it’s a school night.”

all the other heroes are like “wtf you guys are actual children you can’t be heroes” and lock them up in the batcave or the deo or whatever

if they’re in the batcave then courtney and beth are freaking out over all the tech and luke is all “please don’t touch that it’s VERY volatile... oh god they touched it.” mary is v mad that they were all just allowed into the batcave (“kate, do you even know them or are you just letting random strangers in at this point??”). rick is Living because he’s basically young batman in terms of backstory and moodiness and of COURSE he always wanted an underground lair

if they’re in the deo then alex and lena (bc we’re just going to pretend she’s still working with the deo here) are like “teeenage superheroes?? this is so interesting” and they try to take the cosmic staff to do tests on it but it is Not Happy about that and blows up some shit to show that. courtney’s just like “yeah the staff is just Like That sometimes. i can’t really control it” and alex and lena are like “hmm. cool. so we’re just going to back away really slowly.” they try to do tests on them next and beth is like “sure! :)” and yolanda is like “i guess if it helps” but courtney is like “no time! we have to go defeat the villain!” and rick is like “yeah, pass.” nia is all “awww they’re so cute!” and they’re very “we aren’t cute, we’re superheroes!” and nia’s just like “adorable :)”

nia and beth bond over being super optimistic bubbly types. okay this next part is all just what i want to happen and def not canon lol, but i think that alex and yolanda would bond as well bc (thanks to the one anon who pointed this out!) they’re very similar in that they both repressed their sexuality for like forever and thus were (and still are, in yolanda’s case) unhappy teens bc of all the comp het they experienced. okay wishful thinking over.

the batsquad and supersquad obviously try to keep the kids contained while they find out more about the Big Bad but we know how courtney deals with orders from adults (that is to say, she doesn’t). so courtney and co. break out to go confront the villain (yolanda is all “shouldn’t we wait for the actual superheroes until we go do this” and courtney’s like “we are real superheroes! >:(” yolanda’s like “we’ve been doing this for like a week.”)

the superheroes realize that the mini-jsa is gone and they’re like “oh fuck” and go after them, reaching them in the nick of time.

after that, kate is like “whatever, you’re in” but kara is still very “no i can’t let you guys get hurt you are CHILDREN” (she comes around after about five times of the jsa escaping wherever they try to keep them)

okay that’s all i got! but that was super fun to think about and if we do get a crossover between stargirl and the arrowverse shows i hope this is what happens :)

[highladyluck]

For the fic title meme: Lay Down Your Crown and Sword

So, I was thinking maybe this is about Aviendha's feelings about Rand when they're in the Aiel Waste... just kidding, I know what the people want from me.

Wheel of Time, Mat/Tuon, post-canon, ANGST. This is one take on a scenario where Mat attempts to achieve his stated relationship goal, which is convincing Tuon to abdicate and run away with him.

(This sucker is LONG and SPOILERY so I’m putting it under a cut.)

It's ~2 months after the Last Battle. There's growing danger to Tuon- an almost-successful assassination attempt (my money's on Moghedien) that scares Mat, Selucia, the Deathwatch, and maybe even Tuon herself, just a little. The sul'dam secret is leaking out and emboldening the faction that wants to kill her, there's worry it'll lead to local rebellion, plus there's still the Seanchan homeland power struggle. Mat uses all this to convince Tuon that she needs to lie low for a while. His idea is for her to fake her own death, install a puppet successor secretly loyal to her, and go hide out with him in a place no one will be able to find them for a few months.

She's not thrilled about it initially, but it's not like she hasn't faked her own death before (love that about her!) so she agrees to Mat's plan, which is 'hang out in a Portal Stone alternate timeline'. (Mat would not come up with this on his own, Mat does not like Portal Stones, but Min suggested it and he eventually agreed it would suit their needs.) Tuon would prefer something where she could keep an eye on political conditions more easily, but she feels safe with Mat & appreciates that this is definitely a secure option, and she's been out of contact with home base before for a while and been fine. Selucia stays in the palace, to keep an eye on things and do intrigue (and also give Mat and Tuon actual alone time- I am entertained by the grudging truce between Mat and Selucia, but her chaperone services are not needed this time around.)

They've got an official pickup scheduled in a few months, about a month before Tuon's due; Mat thought about waiting more time to go back but he'd rather have the option to call in trusted medical help for the birth and he wants to leave a wide margin of error for the actual due date. He intends to rope in Nyneave if it seems necessary, although he doubts he'll be lucky enough that Nyneave would help Tuon out of the goodness of her heart or even as a favor to him. More likely Nyneave's help would cost Tuon in political concessions, which he will have to either convince Tuon to accept- assuming she's in a position to make that kind of choice- or negotiate on her behalf, if she's in too much immediate danger. Either scenario keeps him up at night, but the alternative is worse. Also, he hasn't run this contingency plan by Tuon yet- likely because he isn't totally against the idea of extracting political concessions from Tuon, so there's guilt as well as fear of how she'd react. The other thing Tuon doesn't realize about this vacation plan is that Mat is hoping to convince her to move there forever- if it's nice- or at least to keep faking her death and start a new life with him somewhere in disguise in their reality.

The Portal Stone world is one that's relatively close to their world, so it has people and feels fairly familiar, but the apocalypse hasn't happened yet and doesn't appear to be doing so in the near future. (For fun let's say the obvious divergence is Damodred-related; maybe the non-asshole Damodred branch is in charge, so you don't get Laman's Sin and/or Tigrane is actually happy in her political marriage, so the Dragon hasn't been reborn yet.) Tuon's ok with the 'vacation' vibe at first, we get some cute romantic bonding moments between her and Mat as they do normal people things, they have some cute dates in taverns or whatever. But Tuon becomes increasingly bored and anxious and frustrated about not being able to keep tabs on what's happening- probably some residual trauma from the last time she went AWOL with Mat, and came back to find her homeland in shambles and her family dead. So that's a source of conflict, especially since she doesn't actually confide that in Mat. She also keeps wanting to hash out political/military plans for when they get back, but Mat keeps trying to distract her, or makes arguments she doesn't like (re: Seanchan policy reform). Maybe Mat brings up the Nyneave contingency plan because he got worried about her health, and Tuon's like 'uh how long have you been sitting on this idea, when the fuck were you going to run it past me, the person it most concerns?'

Their relationship has always had an element of conflict in it, but back then they were strangers, had rules of engagement constraining them, and a kind of shared purpose. Their conflict was a kind of game that they played together, and it drew them closer. Now they know how to get under each other's skin and aren't constrained by witnesses or promises, and they have a shared mission (keeping Tuon safe) but don't agree on who is in charge of it. What's holding them together still is their own compassion and affection for each other, but they're not great at communicating it with words and now they're using words as weapons sometimes, so most of the reconciling is with gestures/gifts/actions. In general, things are tense and there's not much going on outside of their own interactions to distract them; Tuon's temper is flaring, she's feeling powerless and like her personal integrity is being attacked sometimes; Mat's being propelled around by his gut reactions and he's scared of losing her (and the baby), in any number of ways, and mad that she doesn't want what he thinks is best.

Finally the scheduled transit date arrives and they pop back to their original universe and get caught up on the news (maybe from Min?) Over in Seanchan, possibly emboldened by news of Tuon's 'death', a warlord has consolidated most of the warring factions. Now they know who to go after, and a war in Seanchan would help unify the Seanchan in the westlands; the Seanchan military-industrial complex loves a good patriotic war. Things domestically are a little better than before they left. Selucia flushed out the network from the earlier assassination attempt and is generally keeping things running and the puppet ruler honest.

Tuon's relieved; she was really worried that everything was going to fall apart when she was gone and now she's kind of grateful for the break. She tries to tell Mat this without actually admitting that she's got trauma around it, because the Empress doesn't admit weakness and Tuon the person is extremely bad at talking about feelings anyway; she's like "Ah, that's much better news than I came back to last time you kidnapped me. I'm glad to be back to work again, let's get to it." Mat's irritable, not catching on that she was actually really worried about it based on her previous experience, and thinking she didn't appreciate the break, and also worried that his plans to convince her to leave with him aren't going to work. Tuon catches that he's cagey and unhappy and not getting her jokes, and she remembers that this was what he seemed like when she first saw him in the Tarasin Palace. Mat argues that they should at least wait until the baby comes, that the person she put in charge is doing well, they can certainly let them rule a while longer. He says he's not sure it's the right time to attack Seanchan, he'd need to check the troops out, sniff out local sentiment. He's not decisive or commanding or focused when he says these things- it's stalling, it's bravado covering panic. It dawns on her- oh shit, he's gonna run.

Tuon's spooked. She KNOWS Mat now, but that doesn't mean she knows what to do to hang on to him. She doesn't know how to deal with a loss of control in her personal life, so she turns to what she knows she can control- the empire, her role, her property. She takes refuge in past promises. She tells him they will discuss the disposition of the army and the prosecution of the war in Seanchan once her heir is born and she's officially 'off the hook'. Mat looks grim.

Tuon wanted to announce that she's back immediately, but she starts having contractions and Mat's like 'you are absolutely not going to return from the dead right this second, you're super vulnerable right now.' They stay in a relatively secret spot in Tuon's territory with a small coterie of loyal retainers until the baby is born; it goes fine. There is one (1) cute bonding moment between Tuon and the baby and Mat; then the baby vanishes. Mat was on guard along with the usual people you'd expect to be on guard (not Karede, Selucia, or Min though). Tuon FUCKING KNOWS Mat did it with Aes Sedai help, she's initially furious and betrayed, but Mat isn't admitting it and within the extremely tight circle of people who know about the vanished baby, he's doing a reasonably convincing job looking as freaked out and upset as everyone else, and she's still hoping she can resolve this privately without any drastic public actions.

She takes Mat to a private place and she tells him that she has always, always been able to trust him. She trusts him so much it terrifies her. She does not know if this is what love is, but it is what she feels for him. She asks him to honor that, to honor himself, and not to lie to her. She then asks him why he kidnapped their child. Mat staggers, and blurts out that he can't bear the thought of their children constantly at risk of assassination, from strangers or their own siblings. He has nightmares about their child beginning to channel, or being able to learn, and what that means for them in the Empire. Tuon's made her choice and he'll respect that, though he hates the risks to her, and what the Empire does to her and others. But their child deserves the choice Tuon didn't have. He loves Tuon, but he cannot love the Empire, and he will not fight in the Empire's wars, and he will not let the Empire own his children, whether that's as royalty, sul'dam, or damane. He says he trusts she'll come to the right decision about what to do with this information.

The next scene has Tuon in mourning white. It's neither Tuon's nor Mat's POV- probably Karede, or maybe Min. In front of the whole court Tuon, as Empress back from the dead, bestows the Bloodknives ring and blessing on Knotai, and orders him to take a few members of the Deathwatch (the ones on watch the night the baby vanished, our observer notes) and assassinate the warlord in Seanchan on her behalf. She says she trusts he will succeed. They stare inscrutably at each other. The court is shocked into silence at first, but the whispers rise behind Mat as he straightens from his extraordinarily polite leg and heads out of the chamber. It is left up to the reader to decide if this is an elaborate plan to fake Mat's death and set him free, or his execution.

--- You may notice this is suspiciously fleshed out for a prompt I received this afternoon. XD I've been kicking around some of this premise for a while, though this ask made me finally come up with the circumstances that get Tuon to actually agree to temporarily leave her job, as well as most of the details. The main emotional beats came from stringing together several Mountain Goats songs, because of course it did. The whole sequence is Twin Human Highway Flares, Riches and Wonders (Eliza Rickman cover), Alpha Incipiens, Fault Lines, New Britain, Family Happiness. I’m not sure if I’ll actually turn this into a finished story with description and dialogue and everything, but it’s possible. This is also not the only Mat/Tuon post-canon idea I have kicking around! It’s not my ideal scenario for them for sure, but it’s a lot easier to write a ‘bad ending’ for them than to work on my ‘good ending’, because I have a lot more emotional investment in the ‘good ending’... perfectionist problems. :/

[asterekmess]

S3A - E9

The last episode took me Hours to get through with all my notes, let’s hope this one doesn’t hurt my fingers so bad.

My fingers hurt too much to come up with a clever pun so Read More:

Thoughts:

This is a dumb first bullet point, but I love Tara’s hair. It looks like it’s braided or something, then in a bun at the back? I like it.

What exactly was the reasoning for her walking into the school alone like this? Let alone going That far into it? If it’s a 911 call that she’s so nervous about she has her hand on her gun, then shouldn’t there be more than one officer??

ALSO, that seems like Very Bad routine procedure? You got a 911 call (but we get no explanation as to what it was FOR) and the first thing you say when you see someone is “Why are you here?” shouldn’t you be asking “Who made the 911 call?” And then you tell them to leave, and to tell anyone Else they see to leave. When they could easily SEE the person you’re wanting to aim a gun at and TELL them to leave because there’s a cop in the school.

So I’m torn between Julia being just that sick and wanting to terrify each of her sacrifices (which...she talks about them like she’s Genuinely sad she had to kill them, but it was necessary to save the world, so that doesn’t sit right with me?) or fear being a Necessary part of the ritual, like, that the sacrifices Couldn’t be willing?

Honestly, Lyds, that’s so smart and reasonable. “I had to have the weird blackout to get here. YOU get to go find the body.”

What was the point of the staging in the shower room if she was gonna get thrown onto the sign?? Why move her at all?

ALSO if this is supposed to be a threefold death, then didn’t she do it wrong? She killed Tara by strangulating her, but didn’t do the head bash or the throat until after she’d moved her body, for some reason??? Don’t they need to happen like..near the same time?

No to mention that there wouldn’t be much blood bc her throat was slit After death, so the blood wasn’t pumping. Even laying her down wouldn’t render a large amount. But they’re going for horror, so...i guess i’ll let it pass.

Why does it feel like Julia is going after people close to STiles specifically? First Heather, now Tara? And then his Dad? That’s a weird coincidence when she’s got the entire town to choose from.

Also, sheriff, i love you, but ‘they’re not going to get away with killing one of our own.” is a REALLY fucked up line. Police getting pissed ONLY when other Police are the ones killed is SO FUCKED UP. Logistically, police are FAR more likely to get killed than citizens are, aren’t they? They’re the ones that’re supposed to be running into danger? Like, Soldiers don’t Only get pissed when other soldiers are killed, right? It’s literally like...your job to be in potentially fatal situations? that’s not even my point! My point is that your line implies that law enforcement was Half-assing it before a cop got killed. half a dozen people have died, so Beacon Hills should be Swarming with cops, but for some reason the big guns don’t come in until a cop dies? Your phrasing sucks, Noah. Were you gonna let them get away with it if they killed everybody BUT the cops? I’m being sarcastic on that last bit, btw.

I’ll admit, it’s nice to get some actual SUNSHINE in CALIFORNIA

Is Chris letting Allison stay home because she saw a dead body? FOr as long as she wants? I’m so confused, she’s seen Much worse things, shouldn’t it like raise an alarm that she’s choosing NOW to stay home?

Your badassery is tainted by the fact that you’re wearing a dress and fishnets, Allison. If you’re gonna go hunting put on some pants. or shorts AT LEAST. that’s just not Practical.

I love how blatant a lie Stiles is telling Julia in class. “do you play?” “No, my father does” when we Know he plays, and besides if his dad plays then stiles MUSt because that’s a two person thing most of the time? But no, he doesn’t want Julia to know Shit about him.

the loyalty of Lydia not going near Aiden after learning he killed Boyd is SO refreshing. I TOLD you, if she knew Aiden was a murderer she’d never have gotten with him in the first place.

NOt Derek. CORA. MY BABE BONDS FAST. (I mean, she was locked in a bank vault with him for however long)

FIrst off, I love Stiles losing his shit. Second, the acting here is so sub-par, and it looks like a writer’s mistake. okay, so, in acting, interruption is an ART. You have to let someone say enough to get their line across, but INterrupt them before they can finish in a way that looks natural. And you have to make sure not to come in late or you get an awkward pause (this is more common with newbies bc experience actors don’t stop their line, they keep it going until you figure it out.) So like The line is ...And shove it up your freaking--” Now, Scott needs to interrupt without being late, otherwise, unless Stiles Continues the line, he’ll pause after saying ‘freaking’ and it’ll be noticeable. here, the way scott interrupts him feels So Wrong, in part because he let’s Stiles get so far into his threat.

Also, I’m fucking pissed that Scott is downplaying how angry Stiles is. “okay, we get it.” is just...a garbage way to respond to a friend who’s hurting and clearly on edge, thinking Ethan is threatening him.

Exactly How do you “Know” Ethan didn’t want to kill Boyd? You weren’t there, fuckface.

Is this set after school? They’re shouting their heads off and no one’s coming? Even Stiles was shouting about wolfsbane.

THAT IS NOT HOW ACTUAL WOLF PACKS WORK YOU FUCKER. THAT’S A GARBAGE MYTH.

Hearing Cora’s little gasp as her head hit the wall hurt my heart.

Normally I’d be pissed about the girl standing back and not doing anything, but Lydia would be ripped apart and I do not blame her for shouting from the sideline.

I don’t understand what the hell is going on with the Chris stuff. Like, I guess he’s supposed to be looking into it on his own, but that still doesn’t explain where he got the information on this very specific ritual.

But I do understand Allison’s hesitance to outright ask her father what the fuck he’s doing, since last time that happened she was taken to a chained up derek in an underground tunnel system. Finding out her family are monsters is kind of her entire life, unfortunately.

Honestly, fuck yes. Cora go off. Though, I’m sad that no one is mentioning Erica, like At All. You realize she ALSO died at the hands of the ALphas, right? why does no one mention her when they talk about getting revenge?

I...am not talking about this scene.

I gotta say that I enjoy the fact that Allison called Stiles. That’s just...that’s p cool. BUT while it’s cute that her contact picture is from her conversation with Stiles in s2, it’s weird bc it’s a screenshot of the show, and we know that Stiles wasn’t taking pictures at that moment. But the effort is sweet!

I will say that it’s interesting that Cora doesn’t fight Stiles about helping him with his dad. She just finished yelling at Scott, Lydia, and presumably Stiles, and she’s clearly unhappy with literally everyone but Derek, but she’s been very humoring of Stiles. In every scene together, even when she’s snarking at him, she’s not an Asshole.

This conversation with Morrell makes...no sense. Scott literally said in the last episode that good liars wouldn’t have jumping heartbeats when they lied. Then he immediately went to ask Morrell if she was the killer and believed her (even though she’s sketchy as fuck) just because her heart didn’t jump. Wtf?

“But if I kill someone, I can’t be a True Alpha, right?” WHO SAID THAT EVER? WHO TOLD YOU THAT? SINCE WHEN? WTF?

I don’t know if it was intentional (maybe they mention it, but i haven’t gotten that far) but technically having this history teacher disappear leaves an empty class for Kira’s dad to fill when she shows up. Which is neat.

I will forever be angry that Aiden is touching Lydia here. He shouldn’t be near her. And that’s not even me being cranky! She IS PISSED AT HIM. She was avoiding him before today and even then the only reason she went near him was to act as a distraction.

Also, again, I am amazed at Cora’s PATIENCE with Stiles here. Seriously, they’ve clearly been there for a while as Stiles tries to find the words, but Cora didn’t just get pissed stand up and say “I’m a werewolf. People are dying. Help.” She continued to wait for him to talk.

When does stiles rearrange his room? I swear in the beginning of this season it was still in the previous formation with the corner bed sticking out and the desk under the window. Now the desk is facing a totally different direction and his bed’s up against the wall. It’s great, but like, when does it happen? Isn’t this literally the second time we’ve seen his room the whole season?

that’s such a weird text. “Mr Westover Missing” like I don’t know if it’s from Lydia or Scott, but you’re allowed to add some detail? Your keystrokes aren’t limited and there are no government agencies watching your texts for information.

Oh, poor Cora. I honestly wasn’t expecting to bond with her so quickly when I first saw her, but there’s something about getting to see characters being calm that really helps me vibe with them? Like, when they’re nothing but Fight Fight Fight it’s hard to actually relate in any way, but when you actually get to see them talk or relax, then you worry about that being taken away from them.

However much I hate Isaac and everyone else Constantly saying “But I want Scott here. We should ask Scott, blah blah blah” I will say that it’s getting REALLY annoying that Allison’s entire personality is “I”m going to run in with almost zero backup bc I want to be powerful and strong, but then I have to be saved bc I refused to ask for help in the first place.”

Wtf do you mean ‘i’m not that good at this yet’ Isaac? You’ve been a werewolf for literally like 5 months, only like two months less than Scott, and you were LIVING with a born werewolf for that ENTIRE time.

Chris you were shooting at nothing for like two-thirds of that time. That was an empty room. ALSO, if you’ve been there the whole time, why did you wait until he was dead to come out shooting?

Chris yells “help Him” and you go run to stand next to his body without bothering to pull him off the cord around his neck? You realize he might not be completely dead right? Or is his throat already cut?

Also, I wanna note, it was daylight when Cora passed out. Now it’s dark! He went to the ER with her and STAYED with her. I get that people say STiles is kind of callous, but he Constantly goes out of his way for near strangers, and I don’t think that should be overlooked.

No youfcking wouldn’t have Chris, you had tons of time while they were using the garrotte and you just stood there. They came in just before the kill was done, and except for Tara Julia has been leaving people’s bodies where they fall so she wouldn’t left right after. You were NOT ‘this’ close.

Yeah, yeah, and you’re both fucking guilty of being incapable of conversation. Chris you are the adult here, fucking act like it. You had a million chances to confront your daughter and you didn’t. Apparently that’s a habit she picked up from you.

What are they talking about, Scott healing himself?? He was thrown back, he wasn’t injured. I literally just went back and rewatched that scene. He falls backward and he’s completely fine. Stiles, there are so many better instances you could point to. For example, things that actually Happened.

That line is never gonna not hurt.

Stop touching Danny. Stop being near Danny. You are a literal serial killer, get your hands off him. GOD. your brother literally said he would murder danny if he saw you with him anymore, why are you putting him in danger? FUck you.

.....okay, lydia’s speech was meaningful until she fucking turned it into scott worship. Why couldn’t you have stopped at letting her say “maybe I’ll find them before it happens” Why couldn’t it be about HER for once? Why did you have to make it about how everyone thinks sunshine comes out Scott’s ass even though he’s literally not done a single thing to warrant it. He hasn’t Saved Anyone. He hasn’t done Anything to warrant all this trust. Lydia wasn’t there when he made Derek kill Gerard. SHE was the one to save Jackson. And Scott was the one who had to be saved BOTH when Allison had to stitch him up and when Stiles had to go after him in the gasoline. Jackson is the one who saved Lydia when Peter went after her. Scott Didn’t save deaton, that was Noah. He wasn’t the one who killed Peter, that was a combination of Stiles and Jackson’s molotovs and Derek’s claws. Scott wasn’t even the one to protect Lydia when Derek and the pack went after her, that was Stiles, Allison, and Jackson. SHe had no idea that Scott was even THERE until she ran out of the house. Scott didn’t stop Matt, that was Allison’s family scaring him off and then Gerard killing him. THe only possible thing that could count was him saving the two little kids while Boyd and Cora were running around in the woods, and Lydia doesn’t even KNOW about that. Scott has canonically done NOTHING worth all this faith and ‘leader’ nonsense.

were...were they hinting at a Scott/Lydia relationship before they brought Kira in? Holding hands isn’t really a friend thing...?

That....is the softest most broken little ‘hey’ that I’ve ever heard and I’m Instantly on the verge of tears, holy shit.

Derek, honey, what do you mean ‘not again’? You’ve never left Cora, unless you count moving to New York with Laura and Cora was in South America! This line would make so much more sense if they’d given us Any idea what happened to Cora after the fire.

Normally, i’d be annoyed that Melissa is just ignoring the laws about paperwork. I’d even be annoyed that she did it for the Sheriff. BUT, Melissa is in the know about the supernatural and she KNOWS that the murders are supernatural. I’m sorry but Supernatural needs trump human laws. Melissa is totally a boss for this.

EYYYY actual druid (specifically magician druids) thing they got right (though i’m not sure it was on purpose). Magician Druids were Very Well Known for their nature magic. For causing storms and droughts and high winds and fog. The building storm around the school is like, Peak magician magic.

God, it really....it really grinds my gears watching Isaac’s progression toward the most abuse he can find. You notice how, in season 2 when Derek was attacking the Betas on the regular and doing awful shit like breaking Isaac’s hands, Isaac was loyal as Fuck to him? (right up until randomly going to Scott to decide whether to leave town) Then, this season, we start off with Derek being pretty fucking gentle, there’s no indication that he’s been continuing the abuse. Isaac questions his command and Derek’s response is ‘do you trust me?’ to which Isaac easily says yes. In fact, Isaac asks Derek to be the one to hurt him for the memory seeking thing, and Derek refuses because he wants to do what’s Safer for Isaac.Then he throws the glass and Isaac bails bc it’s a direct reminder of what his dad did. Only he goes to Scott, who was incredibly violent toward him in the previous season. (And who we know will be violent toward him in the future as well) But the only time he lists away from Scott, is to go after Allison, who Tackled him to the ground and held a knife to his throat, and whose father inherently hates werewolves and is a constant danger to him. Yet he never goes in the direction of people who Haven’t hurt him. He could go to Deaton, who’d taught him the pain-drain thing and was nothing but kind to him in that short time. He could’ve gone to Boyd after Derek’s lashing out, his pack member, who would never hurt him. Hell, he hates Stiles’ guts, but he could still have gone to him. Stiles was the one to help Derek free him from Jail after all, and he’s not wanted anymore so Noah wouldn’t have anything against him. Stiles may have threatened Isaac to keep him from hurting Lydia, but he never personally laid a hand on him. But he went to Scott. Someone who’s beaten him bloody multiple times.

So, really focusing on the details here, but on Julia’s death record, her  ‘jane doe’ occupation is listed as “Child” Oh, and apparently there was Froth present on the body.

Okay, so I think I understand what they’re saying. The reason Julia lived after getting to the hospital was because the birds sacrificed themselves and their life force kept her holding on. Now, either this was a spontaneous thing, and the birds did it For her. Or she Made them, because we know she doesn’t need to Be There to control weird shit. She could’ve set it up before she left the Nemeton or passed out or whatever. My confusion is. If that’s the explanation for the bird suicides, then what the Fuck happened on the first day when all the birds came crashing through the window?? There was no reason for that to happen. She was totally fine! And doing it to frighten people doesn’t make sense because she set off the radars of everything supernatural in town. (And Stiles.)

This kind of mass mind-control is kind of insane and makes the situation with Derek just That much more awful. I am so sickened.

Now, on the subject of the chanting, I assume it’s part of the ritual since it’s present at the deaths so much. The question is, where did Julia Get it? THOUGHTS: This chant isn’t present at any of the virgin kills. It’s not there with Heather, and while we don’t see the boy at the pool’s abduction/death, Emily Also didn’t hear it during her hallucination. What if it’s part of the virgin sacrifice perk? Like, Julia could Only Use it after killing the virgins, because it’s got some kind of mind-control thing about it?

Wh--why didn’t Julia tape her arms down before she woke up? Why make the garrotte before ensuring her victim couldn’t Punch her in the face??

I thought you JUST said she wasn’t going to be a sacrifice?

Still confused. You didn’t sacrifice Lydia, so that doesn’t count as the third philo, but then the teacher who died onstage wasn’t a threefold death, or the hanging thing, they just got their throat cut and they were poisoned. So....what? Was that supposed to count as your sacrifice?

Nobody TOUCHES Noah, who managed to be the only fucking cop on tv i’ve ever seen follow sensible procedure which is to shoot them in the fucking leg when they walk toward you menacingly, rather than threatening to shoot them in the head and doing nothing.

Final Thoughts:

There was a lot in this episode that didn’t make sense. It’s very clearly an amping up for the finale thing, but it’s annoying that after all this time they’ve essentially made the Alpha pack a time waster. The whole thing with getting Derek in the pack is relatively meaningless now that there’s a Darach going after the Alphas. I dunno, feels kinda off.

Anyway, onward.

[xoruffitup]

TROS (Mis)Characterizations: What Was and What Could Have Been

What started as responding to an anon ask turned into an entire meta... but working out all these thoughts has at least eased a bit of my TROS pain. :’) 

From my perspective, TROS managed to destroy not only the characterizations built so far in the sequel trilogy, but also the entire story built upon these characters (mainly Reylo) as we knew them. While talking to a family member about the movie a few days ago and voicing my grievances with the story, he pointed out how someone could watch TFA and skip to TROS without realizing they’d missed much. That’s mostly true and entirely gutting.

Since I had an ask to talk about how TROS regressed in terms of characterization, I’ll start with the most hurtful of defacements: All of the nuanced vulnerability that made Kylo/Ben our most beloved character. We had absolutely nothing in TROS like the complex masterpiece moments of TLJ. Think back to “You are a monster.” / “Yes I am” – delivered with glowering menace as Kylo stalked closer, simultaneous to the tell of fragmented uncertainty in a quivering bottom lip and chin, all while his eyes remained completely riveted on Rey. Think back to “You’re not alone” – delivered with a wet sheen to his eyes in a soft cracked voice, but with self-loathing still smoldering behind his expression. Until the scene with Han, Kylo was shrunk into an entirely two-dimensional cookie cutter “villain” figure in TROS, seemingly more committed to the dark side and the First Order than he ever was to begin with in TFA. (I say “seemingly” because his true motives and interior dilemmas are frustratingly unclear in the entire first half of the movie. Cue me loathing the mask more than ever.)

Though Kylo seems uncharacteristically committed to the Supreme Leader role in TROS, considering he ended TLJ in a supplicating position fixing regretful eyes up towards Rey, luckily TROS did at least maintain the Force bond. …or at least the concept of it, because in execution the Force bond scenes achieved approximately nothing of what TLJ so uniquely excelled at: Creating a sense of intimacy, understanding, and forbidden tenderness between Rey and Ben. Instead of soft-spoken entreaties and promises across the soft glow of a fire or the dappling light of rain (ugh, remember the way light and shadow literally played out in contrasts across Kylo’s face during “I am a monster”? TLJ is a cinematic wonder, pass it on), we get scenes where the two yell and spit spite at each other. Most frustrating is how absolutely out of touch Kylo’s dialogue is with the Ben who was revealed through previous Force bond scenes. In a regression that makes absolutely no sense after Ben’s big proposal of “It’s time to let old things die: The Jedi, the Sith… I want you to join me” – he literally has the most reductive, bland, and meaningless lines such as “I will find you and turn you to the dark side.” ……..? Kylo has literally never been that boring or straightforward ever, not even since the TFA interrogation scene. He offered to be her teacher, sure, but never on terms that simplistic or blatantly combative to Rey’s will.

What I’ve always passionately loved and defended about Reylo is that Kylo never forced Rey to do anything harmful or against her will. Even pushing her to the painful moment of admitting the truth (or so we FUCKIN’ THOUGHT) about her parentage during the throne room scene did, in the end, help her character come to terms with repressed trauma and move forward in her journey of self-determination. (haha look at me, still stuck in my feminist goggles as if they haven’t been ripped off my head by TROS…) The point is: The TLJ Force bond was never a means of threat. It was never a tool for Kylo to say something as blatantly antagonistic as “I will find you and turn you to the dark side.” (Wow, did a Kindergartener write that? Come the fuck on, JJ.) And I was deeply disappointed to see the Force bond reduced to a tool used only to tell a part of the story unrelated to Reylo; rather than being the means of developing their relationship in and of itself.

This feeds into my overall biggest grievance with how Kylo/Ben was handled in this film. Similar to the Force bond – Ben’s character was reduced to a secondary prop piece who mostly served only as a narrative device in advancing the Rey-Palpatine plotline. Look, I imagined for months ahead of TROS the kind of candid Force bond conversations we might hear. Like “No one (knows me)” / “But I do.” (Where the FUCK did that line go?! Apparently JJ doesn’t know her…) Or perhaps Ben apologizing and opening up to Rey about how unhappy he is in the dark, how alone he feels. Instead…. we got shit like “You’re his granddaughter.” Like how dare they disrespect Academy Award Nominee Adam Driver’s talent like that?

Now, looking past the fact for a moment that the Rey-Palpatine addition is insulting, unoriginal, and sexist; there could have been a very interesting dynamic here. We would have the grandson of Vader and the granddaughter of Palpatine feeling very different pulls to both light and darkness, Force bonded together as they struggle with the weight of these legacies. Kylo, I imagine, was probably partially excited when he learned it, because maybe this means that Rey would understand him fully and perhaps this time, once she learned the truth, she would finally be with him. But nope, we don’t get nearly that much of a look into Kylo’s head. He does say at one point “You can’t go back to her (Leia), just like I can’t,” but the line missed the mark a bit for me because TROS still had Kylo appealing to Rey from the perspective of “Join the dark side as if we’ve done away with all that grey morality complexity we introduced last movie” – rather than from the perspective of “Neither of us should feel alone ever again.”

I’m rather unspeakably bitter that we had no exploration into what Palpatine’s return meant for Ben. I imagine he would have gone a bit wild upon learning that the man who was responsible for his grandfather’s fall was still alive. And the revelation of “I have been every voice you’ve ever heard inside your head”? This was enough to bring Ben Solo stans to tears before we even watched the movie, and yet it was treated completely off-handedly. Ben never even gets his own moment of coming to terms with Palpatine’s return. No “My grandfather killed you – how is this possible?” Nothing like that at all – even though he’s the character who would be most affected by his return in terms of legacy implications. Nope; Ben’s first encounter with Palpatine at the beginning of the movie – the same encounter where we learn Palpatine has apparently been behind all of the dark side grooming, manipulation, and isolation Ben has suffered since he was literally in the womb – quickly veers towards “Kill the girl / She is not who you think she is.” Early warning here that Ben Solo as a character in dire need of resolution is about to be treated with utter apathy by this film.

Here’s where I need to pause for a moment of self-awareness. While arguing with my Dad about this movie (he loved it), he threw at me that he thought I was being anti-feminist because I disliked the ending of Rey being alone. I quickly did my best to disabuse him of the idea that feminism = women being forever alone. This did make me think though about the implications of TROS veering away from the dual protagonist story framework that had been established up to this point; in favor of a narrative with Rey as the single and clear protagonist. The two main reasons I had such a knee-jerk reaction against this shift were A) It left a bad taste in my mouth after Rey ended TLJ emboldened by her acceptance of her past and unremarkable lineage; and B) It upended Reylo as the foundation of the entire story – also which we’d been led to expect. And I’m not just talking TLJ – I’m referencing back to JJ’s own Director’s commentary for TFA where he says “Now back to the story we really care about” when the film goes back to Rey and Kylo’s forest battle; who described Kylo as “a sort of prince,” and insinuated “you get the feeling there’s more going on here” when Kylo decided to spirit off Rey on Takodana. JJ set all the fucking clues here and then apparently forgot about each and every one.

However – am I perhaps not being fair to Rey in my disappointment that she doesn’t end the film in domestic bliss with Ben? Was I expecting something beneath her potential? Can I really say it’s a bad thing that the narrative rearranges itself in this film to focus chiefly on her? 

The reason it all sits so wrong with me is because Rey’s characterization became bastardized for the sake of her solo narrative. Her character was essentially entirely effaced. The emphasis of her journey thus far pointed towards the crafting of one’s own identify; to the fact that might and greatness can reside within anyone, and it is up to that person alone to decide what kind of life to live with such power. Rey’s development at the end of TLJ indicated she’d found freedom from her past, and was now fully embracing the act of forging her own path without any constraints or shadows. But then, this road she’d been paving for herself was abruptly switched in TROS to one already completed and well-traveled, lined with unoriginal identity struggles and a copout for assigning Rey’s instincts of aggression and passion to the hereditary and ungendered “dark side.” This sudden switch stripped away all of Rey’s unique identity struggles, as well as her agency to define her own story.

Confining Rey to such an unoriginal and unfortunate struggle also required that her own goals and desires be changed as well. When faced with a legacy of evildoers, Rey’s story immediately shifts away from being focused on her, and rather to remedying the mistakes of men who came before. Rey’s own story was about a thousand times more interesting when she was in the center of it. As a twitter post I saw a few days ago but now frustratingly can’t find said very aptly: Male viewers found “Rey Skywalker” satisfying because they see a happy ending as being the “best” or the most powerful. Female viewers see a happy ending as being truly seen, understood, and valued for the person one is. (If anyone knows the source, please let me know...)

Rey used to say she wanted to learn “her place in all this.” That doesn’t indicate a thirst for greatness or power; but rather for belonging and connection. She has spent most of her story so far thinking back to her parents, then spent a solid 2 minutes in TROS looking longingly and smiling at the alien babies on Pasaana, which hello motherhood signaling. She has been happiest in moments when she felt valued and connected to those around her.

The idea of having greatness bestowed upon her by some external entity (aka a man) was already examined and rejected in TLJ. (Read: throne room proposal scene.) But in TROS, this act of external determination is thrust onto her regardless of her will. In so doing, her possession of a legacy rewrites and predetermines all of her goals, battles, and the key facets of her identity. She no longer has the freedom to embrace and cherish her found or chosen family; instead, her goal is to rid herself of the “family” that’s been thrust upon her – making what’s now presumably her happy ending of being disconnected from her assigned family the complete opposite from everything her character previously yearned for. Standing alone in a desert with the company of only half-remembered spirits is likely what filled the nightmares of young Rey of Jakku.

This is, of course, why the dual protagonist/Reylo narrative we expected to see in this film was so compelling. While doing none of Rey’s decision-making for her or removing any agency from the formation of her own identity; her force-bonded relationship with Ben offered Rey belonging, understanding, and purpose. Ben was the only character who could understand how debilitating and frightening it was to feel her Force sensitivity come alive and waver between the light and dark; just as he was the only one who could comfort her in that conflict without infringing on her independence. Once we saw dark!Rey in that D23 footage, I think every Reylo imagined scenes where Palpatine begins to sink his control into Rey’s mind and Ben rushes to her side to pull her back towards the light, because he knows all too well what those voices are like inside his head and he’d rather hear them all again than watch Rey suffer it.

From several perspectives, Reylo fighting and defeating Palpatine together is also the only ending that makes sense from a holistic storytelling perspective. (I mean both of them wielding blue sabers against Palpatine and fighting together in tandem – rather than that single crowd-pleaser shot of them hefting their complementary lightsabers together before Ben gets brushed off into a pit…) While Ben is the legacy character, representing all that our beloved original characters fought and suffered for; Rey is the new-generation character, representing a new age and the banishing of old mistakes which continued to perpetuate conflict. Only these representatives of new and old; of royal legacy and self-made upstart; could truly banish all of the harm committed in the galaxy by Palpatine and remedy all the loss and suffering effected throughout the Skywalker line. To have only a single character recently revealed to be related to Palpatine facing him alone (no matter how “badass” that might make said female character seem by superficial standards), rather than a union with the single remaining descendant of the Skywalker line himself is simply unsatisfactory and directionless storytelling. It is Palpatine’s manipulation towards three generations of Skywalkers that was the sole catalyst for all of the warfare, struggle, and conflict we’ve witnessed throughout this entire 9-film series. To not even engage with Ben Solo-Skywalker’s troubled relationship to that heritage and to completely fail in realizing the emotional catharsis and resolution that stood there waiting is nothing short of infuriatingly shortsighted storytelling. J.J. claimed in several interviews that this film was crafted with the entire preceding story in mind, as a cap to everything that came before. I have absolutely no idea which story he was referring to.

And so, from the perspectives of this film alone, the sequel trilogy, and the entire 9-film saga as a whole – Yes, I do claim that it was a poor decision in terms of story telling and character integrity to reconfigure the narrative to focus solely on Rey. For the reasons just mentioned, it was an utter disservice to Rey’s character arc. To reduce all of the tragedy, charisma, and youthful potential in Kylo/Ben’s character to a secondary narrative device is nothing short of shameful. Not to mention wasting all of Adam’s potential for playing truly heart-wrenching scenes of Ben’s penitent soul-searching. I will never forgive the fact that Ben had literally not a word of dialogue after his quick conversion scene halfway through the movie. Not only does he play no major role in the final battle with Palpatine, but aside from charging in heroically and doing a phenomenal Solo Shrug, he isn’t allowed a single moment of interiority. He has no speech to Palpatine declaring his change of heart and his reclaimed heritage. Perhaps most painful of all – he and Rey never even have their Big Talk where we expected Ben to apologize for the doings of Kylo Ren and for both of them to affirm their desire to be together and their devotion to each other. Adam did a pretty amazing job demonstrating all that in how he cradled Rey’s body and couldn’t even bear to look into her lifeless face (RIP my heart). But no matter how phenomenal and tender the Reylo kiss was, how luminous Rey’s smile was when she said “Ben,” and how achingly loving his eyes were when he looked at her – I can’t help feeling crushingly cheated that their love itself wasn’t what enabled the victory. Rather than the strength they lent to each other through a union that defied light-dark dichotomy (as it should have been and as the story was previously leading towards), it was rather Rey’s miracle heritage that won the day. The fact that Ben never says a damn word when he stands before Palpatine, or when Rey kisses him and he finally realizes she does care for him too – makes both their bond and Ben’s entire character feel like a throw-away prop only there for Rey to wear so long as this feeble story needed it.

I’ve been trying to put my finger on what made TROS’ plot so underwhelming and lifeless compared to TLJ or even TFA. The difference between TLJ and TROS in the simplest terms is that TLJ’s narrative was character-driven, whereas TROS subjected its characters to a narrative. Rather than a huge space battle, TLJ’s biggest moments are Rey and Kylo’s throne room proposal and Kylo and Luke’s showdown on Crait. Both of these moments had huge emotional stakes for the characters involved, which was what made them epic. TROS’ narrative, meanwhile, uses twists like the Rey Palpatine reveal to manipulate its characters in inorganic directions, and builds towards a finale that is unrelated to any of the long-standing challenges our heroes have confronted throughout the story. TROS derided its characters down to mere tools for a superficial spectacle of a story. TLJ, on the other hand, made its characters the story. It’s no wonder I found myself strangely numb and disconnected the first time I saw TROS.

Now, I’m just angry and disappointed. Disappointed that such brilliant, wonderful characters were wasted. Angry that we’ve imagined a hundred endings more appropriate and fair to the characters we hold dear. I am trying to appreciate what I can from the film and hold on to the few beautiful moments, but I definitely plan on writing my own fic version of how TROS might have played out, had it upheld the complexity and integrity of its characters. Even still, I’m quite sure we all know and understand Ben Solo much better than J.J. or Chris Terrio, so in our hearts Ben will find the happy ending he deserves.

[namjoonsyoongi]

blurred lines | namgi

summary: what’s a few blowjobs between friends?

rating: M

word count: 4610

genre/tags: friends to lovers, friends with benefits, university au, comedy, crack, fluff, angst 

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18663031

Namjoon and Yoongi have known eachother for as long as they could spell their own names, but that wasn't enough to keep Namjoon from wanting to slap his friend upside the head sometimes.

What did keep him from doing so were the little things. The song Yoongi wrote him for his seventeenth birthday, a last minute rap that lasted all of fifty seconds written on a crumbled sheet of lined paper; A song that Namjoon wouldn’t be able to remember even if someone put a gun to his head and told him to recite it. The way that he could read his mind on any given day and act accordingly, and how they’d have a conversation with one another through brief glances and raised eyebrows alone.

Yet he still managed to discover a way to be utterly infuriating.

The other night, the all too allusive Min Yoongi, cat-eyed and full of indifference, crawled into his bed in the middle of the night. Have you ever watched the flicking tongue of a snake as it slithered toward a mouse, and then looked away before it could swallow the mouse whole? That's what Yoongi was to Namjoon on nights like these, intruding into the covers and tangling himself in Namjoon's longer limbs.

Namjoon wouldn't have any issue with a few nighttime cuddles, Yoongi's was just one of the many affectionate boys in their group of friends, and wasn't anywhere near the worst of it. Jimin could be more attached to him than his own skin, and Taehyung was like a puppy in the way he needed constant verbal and physical affirmation to make sure they were, in fact, best friends forever.

Yoongi's not like that, not most of the time. He came with a purpose.

"What's wrong?"  

"Nothing's wrong," Yoongi was simply laying by Namjoon's side at this point, before rolling over into him. "I'm just annoyed with this project. I texted my lab partner, Seungwan, and she’s more lost than I am. I'm never gonna finish this dumb fucking -- stupid fucking -- fuck this project. I'm getting pissed just thinking about it."  

"You should have never took engineering."

He really shouldn't have, but Namjoon knew why he did. He'd spent enough time at his house growing up to know of the expectations his parents had for him, as did every parent. Namjoon had almost fallen into the same trap, on track for medical school until one day, with the lyrics of Epik High's Fly on loop in his head, something stirred in him to stand up and say no. Namjoon spent his first year as a music major estranged from his parents, while Yoongi spent it as the epitome of the perfect son, and unhappy.

Namjoon spoke again. "On the brightside, only one more year."

"Shut up, please."

That was not the first night, where everything was different. Where those lines between friendship and lover blurred, for just an hour, sometimes two.

Yoongi, rather than sulk and complain, opted to release a kiss onto Namjoon's neck - and then another.

"Mm."

He keeps going, further and further, and Namjoon never tries to stop him, even when he knows he should. He palms the bulge in Yoongi's track pants, which seems to be exactly what he wants, and gets to work, going for just long enough until the warmth was enough to burn away any remaining irritation.  

Namjoon never went all the way with Yoongi, but it would probably be pretty nice.

Yoongi's lips had that sweet taste of rum the first time, and it calmed the bitter flames of the vodka present in Namjoon's throat. He couldn't say for sure who made the first move, but he could perfectly recall the pleasant fuzz that clouded his senses, and the way Yoongi moaned as if no one could hear them, as if Jin wasn't in the next room over.

When Namjoon awoke, the faint memory of Yoongi's weight in his mattress was all that remained. Any semblance of permanency floated into the air like dust, he greeted a smirking all-knowing Jin the next morning and went to class none the wiser. A dream, he chalked the whole thing up to, just a weird dream.

"Can I be honest?"

"Go off."

"I'm starting to think Yoongi isn't exactly straight."

Silence.

Like a choir, Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung burst into loud, screeching laughter, accompanied with celebratory hand clapping and Hoseok throwing himself into Namjoon's lap because he can't keep his balance with the sheer humor of it all.

"-And you just realized this!?"

Namjoon swallowed something stuck in his throat.

It's during a brief period of peace with Yoongi, who's laying sprawled against Namjoon's chest, when he asks about it. Namjoon had meant to approach such a subject with the utmost eloquence and thoughtfulness - You can trust me with anything you know, sometimes I feel like you tell the others things you won't tell me. I never would have judged you if you told me you like more than just girls. Do you even know how much respect and appreciation I have for you? That I'll always have for you?

But what came out of Namjoon's mouth is, "Do you give all of us blowjobs?"

Yoongi didn't answer immediately. Namjoon lifted his neck, but all he could see was the black waves of hair on the top of his head, leaning against his chest. The air in the room fogged with the added tension, and Namjoon could only guess what Yoongi's face looked like.

He said nothing. Nothing . He shuffled out of the covers and away from him, leaving the room with the mundane click of the door closing behind him.

That was something Namjoon had always known about Yoongi, his silence was louder than anything, he never had to yell.

"Fool me once? Shame on me. Fool me twice? Shame on you. Suck my dick a third time and 'no homo' is officially off limits." Jin yelped into laughter at his own joke before Namjoon could even process the words.

This was why Namjoon came to Jin for absolutely nothing.

"You're not funny."

"You're gay," Jin said, practically basking in the glare he's earned from Namjoon. "-No excuses, you sucked his dick."

Namjoon rose from his seat. "Don't tell the others."

"Why not? The rest of us admitted we were at least a little gay freshman year, we've been waiting for your coming out for years - years!"    

So you knew about Yoongi too? Namjoon wanted to ask. There was something humiliating about the fact people who Yoongi had known for three years knew more than the one who knew him for fifteen; An anchor of shame dropped silently into his empty gut.  

"Not about that," Namjoon said instead, digging into the fridge for a can of beer. "About me and Yoongi, what we've been...you know."

"Oh no, I won't. That'd scar Jungkook and you know it, that's like when you find out that your mom and dad have sex for the first time."

He tossed the can of beer in his hand, not caring enough to see where it landed, if it smacked against the handsome face that was the older's pride, or broke something along the way.  

"...I don't."

Namjoon detached from him, and Yoongi groaned once the cold air met his wet length. "Wh-What?"

"I don't give the others blow jobs, you're an asshole for saying that."

"I know, I'm sorry. Really." Namjoon, about to dip his head back under the covers, stopped to continue his thought. "Also, It's really hard to have a conversation with you while your dick is in my mouth." He moved to go under for a second time, and halted again. "Also, neither do I."

"Neither do you what?

"Give the others blowjobs."

"Good."

Shards of glass could cut you so easily, a sharp end that sinks deep into your skin, yet you don't immediately feel it when it does. That was the thing about them, he and Yoongi; Their bond was like glass, clear and delicate, it could break at one wrong move, with the simplest of words that hit the other in just the right place.

With someone as clumsy as he was, who has broken more than enough glass made objects, a connection like that was futile. Or that's what he thought, cause no matter how bad the fall, no matter how worse the cut, they somehow put themselves back together as if it had never been touched.

"Joon, your cup!"

Snapped forcefully from his reverie, the weight that had been steady in his hand slipped out before he could save it. The jarring sound of shattering glass cut out the white noise that had been playing as a soundtrack to his own thoughts.

He cursed, watching the reflective shards twinkle menacingly on the tiled floor. "Shit."

"You know, sometimes me and Jimin talk about getting a plastic set just for you." Jungkook jokes, it wasn't anything new to him.

"Let me guess! Namjoon bumped into something again." Jimin calls out, turning around the corner to be met with the new mess decorating the floor of his kitchen.

"He spaced out, I think."

"The last time you did this shit, I was stepping on tiny - like I swear microscopic pieces of glass that we couldn't clean up."  

Jimin ushers Namjoon out with mumbled reassurances that everything was fine and the two of them would clean it up. Today was one of their regular get-togethers, but it'd be the last one before they'd return home for the holidays. Jimin thought it appropriate to replace their soft drinks with alcohol, alcohol which Namjoon had just spilled half a glass of onto the ground, along with the cup.

In the living room, sat the rest of them, gathered close around Jungkook's flat screen. Namjoon could hear the muted yet very present sound of crunching as Jin and Taehyung shared a bag of chips. Hoseok lounged in a recliner, leaning back and huddling into his blanket, mindlessly flicking through Netflix.

With midterms having marched to and fro and subsequently ruined their lives, Yoongi had been a bumbling mess of yawns and naps for the past month. All both Jin and Namjoon had seen of their roommate was him fast asleep on their couch and drooling on his study notes, and glimpses of him going to and from the school before locking himself in his room.

He wasn't here, Namjoon's shoulders slumped.

"Where's Yoongi?"

"Canceled," Hoseok muttered with a deep-set pout, not looking away from the screen.

"Since when?"

"Five minutes ago."

"Hobi's still pissed." Jin chimes in, the bag rustling as he picked it up and held it out to Namjoon.

Namjoon took a handful of chips, and watched as Hoseok’s pout only deepened, a rare darkness in his eyes that only appeared when you had truly committed the worst of his friendship sins. "I wouldn't be if it weren't for this being our last night here, or if he weren't ditching for Seungwan. I would never...we would never!"

The room lapses back into a silence, as if they imagine Namjoon can understand every word and name that had just left their mouths.

"Seungwan?"

Despite everything, Yoongi was always the one to initiate things. Even when he wore his favourite black skinny jeans, and Namjoon's eyes became glued to the gentle curves of his thighs and the belt that hugged his waist. Even when, just like that snake, he wanted nothing more to devour him whole - he didn't, he waited for him.

It felt strange to take what he knew wasn't truly his.

Then came those past two months, where Yoongi tiptoed around Namjoon, as if coming any closer would break him. Namjoon thought it all in his head, Yoongi was busy, he was an engineering major, he just had to focus. Namjoon thought he was the one who could always make him focus, rejuvenate him, perhaps he was wrong. He was fine with that.

In reality, however, there was Seungwan. Pretty girl Seungwan, with her delicate face and cherry coloured lips. Slim and yet plump just where it mattered.

Jin's words hit so cold that icicles could have formed from his lips. "Seungwan and Yoongi have been dating for the past 2 months."

Why didn't you tell me sooner? Namjoon wanted to yell back at him. Why didn't any of you tell me sooner? Why didn't Yoongi tell me sooner? His heart raged against his ribcage, it wanted to scream and shout too, it wanted to run away from the man child it was stuck in, and who idiotically decided to fall in love with his best friend. The best friend he didn't know was gay until he found his way into Namjoon's sheets, the best friend who never spoke about their moments of passion in the day, the best friend who couldn't care less.

"I'm gonna go get another drink," he said instead.

And so he moved on, moved forward. Swallowed the feelings and let them dissolve somewhere in his gut. The next time he'd see Yoongi, with Seungwan hanging off his arm, he'd smile graciously and greet the both of them. Observing Yoongi as he'd mask on a disinterested demeanor when he did something thoughtful for her. He'd welcome Seungwan like the morning sun, he'd laugh at the jokes she'd quip about all the little ticks Yoongi had that Namjoon was long accustomed to and support her when she’d eventually come to him with questions like “what type of food would Yoongi want me to get?”, “Do you think Yoongi would like this as a gift?”. He'd listen attentively to every word, as if she wasn't just echoing the thoughts and feelings that had planted into his very being like a weed, sprouting once again every time he thought he’d picked it out.  

Or at least that's what he would have liked to say happened, and that's what would have happened, had it not been for the long road trip he was stuck on the morning after Namjoon found out about her.

A blanket of mist settles across their driveway like smoke. The overnight storm pelted away the flames of his intoxication, but the subsequent hangover pounded just as relentlessly.

By the car, a phantom stood, posture hunched. Yoongi looked like he was sinking into a black hole with his oversized winter coat, it was almost endearing.

Cute. Adorable actually.

Yoongi smirked. "Wow, who hit you with a bus?"

You.

The grey scarf flew from his pocket as he wrapped it around his neck and up his face, until all but his swollen eyes showed. "Let's just get this over with," He uttered, voice muffled.  

It wasn't a ritual more than it was convenient for Yoongi to drive him back home for the holidays. Their houses were five minute walks between each other respectively, and Namjoon, with his immense lack of grace and poise, has never dared touch a steering wheel in his life. Yoongi liked to say he was his personal uber, then again he also liked to complain about how annoying that was.

On the passenger's side, his eyes catch a rip edged into the cushion with the tiniest of threads holding it together - How is this piece of shit car still alive, honestly? There he sits down stiffly, another place he has essentially spent the past several years making a home of, and the two set off.

The nausea was already striking, and not just from the hangover. Something boiled unwelcome in his chest, and ran all the way down to his abdomen.

Apparently he isn't doing a good job of hiding it, cause Yoongi speaks up and says, "Don't throw up in here."

"I won't. " He snaps back.

Fuck.

He used to think he was better than this, better at setting emotion aside in favour of the overall peace that'd remain instead. Lips zipped shut meant tranquility, and Namjoon valued that; Especially with him, he who he hates more than anything right now.

How...how? How did he fall for this badly acted charade, of course Yoongi never wanted him - like that - if he did, he would have said so.

Stop. Shut up. It isn't that serious.

His jaw locks.

But it really is.

Namjoon's an atheist, but for the first time in years he prays.

He prays that this ride will proceed in silence, because if not, the emotions he didn't have enough time to bury will overflow and drown whatever was left of he and Yoongi's relationship.

Fortunately, the prayer is answered, though sparingly. Identical looking streets pass by wordlessly, with Yoongi twisting and turning through roads and towns that Namjoon can't recognize. His eyes are too exhausted to focus on anything, not that there was anything worth looking at; Every building becomes a blur of mild colours, and the sky is as gray and dull as watching cement dry.

"We're close," Yoongi says.

Namjoon hums, along with the engine as the car slows down, going up a soft incline into a gas station.

The driver's side door opens, Yoongi huddling into his coat as a gust whistles into the vehicle. "I'll be right back."

Don't come back. Just leave me in here to shrivel up and die.

When Yoongi returns, rushing into his seat before shutting the door and ramming the engine again, he says nothing. But Namjoon can hear him, his indifference, a quality which he once admired.

He'd cut his tongue out if it meant he'd keep his mouth shut, but all he can do is sink his teeth into his bottom lip, deeper and deeper as the car pulls out.

"...Yoongi?"

"Yeah?"

Don't say it.

"What am I to you?"

The engine whines, filling the emptiness of the car.

"My best friend."  

The nonchalance cuts Namjoon to the bone, until his lungs are clinging for life. His labour breathes repeatedly stab through the silence, and all he can do is stare, unanswered questions overflowing in his skull.  

They've never talked about - them, what they were and what they did. Any conversations that went past platonic stayed in Namjoon's room and Namjoon's room only. Which is why now even implications of their deeper relationship felt forbidden, his lips clipped shut when the vaguest of words pass his mind.

But Namjoon doesn't have to be the one to say it.

Yoongi laughs, scratching his ear. "Maybe a best friend with benefits?"      

The sharp edges of his eyes go a deeper shade of red, the hurt settling into the crevices. Acknowledgment, shouldn't that satisfy him?

"Still?" Namjoon asks, his voice barely a whisper.

The pink that dusts over Yoongi's cheek is rare. The sight nearly makes Namjoon's heart swell, until he's hit with the thought that Seungwan is on the older man's mind.

"I mean..." Yoongi clears his throat. "Yeah...if you still want-"

"And what about Seungwan?"

His brows furrow, almost offended. "What about her?"

The response boils in Namjoon's ear, like an off key note.

"Can't you be straightforward with me? Like you usually are?" Namjoon says.

"I am."

A snap cuts out his next thought.

They return their attention to the windshield, and watch as the wipers twist unnaturally before flying off the car into the highway, making a couple vengeful scratches across the windows along the way. All that's left of them is two little useless black nubs, which twitch as they try to operate without their second half.

"Aw, shit!" Yoongi curses, a veil of white particles smudging onto the windshield. The flight of snow has accelerated, rushing to the ground and with nothing to push the snow off their windshield, their view of the road is being eclipsed in white at an alarming rate. "I've gotta pullover."

The gravel hisses as Yoongi's car pulls over into the side of the road, coming to a full stop and leaning into his seat with a groan. "The wind must have been too harsh, they completely snapped off. I'm gonna have to call my parents to pick us up, we can't drive like this."

"Are we just leaving the car?"

"We'll lock it and probably get like - I don't know - someone to pick it up. That's gonna cost a shit load."

Namjoon expects the older of the two to pick up his phone and call his parents, but he doesn't and favours sulking back in his seat, hands rubbing his eyes and grumbling to himself. The stare catches onto his peach lips, and the way he's nibbling on his bottom lip.

"Yoongi..."

"Hm?"

"You looked stressed."

"Do I?" He remarks sarcastically, a grin pulling his lips.

Thoughts of Seungwan sink into the very corner of his head as he stares at his companion, someone who he truly has loved so dearly for as long as he could remember. He just wants to pretend he’s his, and hold him so tight that the mere thought of him ever leaving can’t cross Namjoon’s mind.

I just want to be with you, even if it’s only for a second.

"Do you want me to help?" Is all he says.

There's a pause, one that sucks all the air out of him. Yoongi almost laughs, a giddy smile on his face. But slowly, agonizingly, Yoongi's hands tumble down his face until they settle onto his neck. His eyelashes hover, and Namjoon follows them until they finally open and take in the eager and desperate man right in front of him. Yoongi's eyes, so deep and dark, swirling with a curious lust that the other is sinking into.

He doesn't speak, he nods earnestly, as if it was the question he’d been waiting to be asked all day, He leans into Namjoon's space, until their gazes tangle together. His lips, slightly chapped, barely brush over his, testing him.

Namjoon says yes; His large hands envelope his thin wrists, and pulls him forward so that their lips connect. Starting from the soft plump surface, the fuzzy feeling that alcohol can never recreate the same way runs into his veins, and he feels his heart already urging him forward with the strong and abrupt ache that develops.

He goes further, deepening the kiss as Yoongi's arms find their place around Namjoon's neck.

He doesn't know how long the kissing last until he manages to groan out a husky "c'mere," between the mess they're becoming. He breaks the kiss, waiting for Yoongi to come to him as the smaller tries his best to crawl onto Namjoon's lap in the cramped car. It's in that quiet moment that Namjoon realizes both of their coats are already off and probably somewhere in the backseat, lost to the heat of the moment.

He can already feel the growing bulge in the Yoongi's jeans, and the man impatiently moves to pull down his own zipper before Namjoon halts the action.

"Let me." He demands, voice husky and out of breath. His fingertips barely graze the metal, and stay there, playing with the sharp criss cross that leads up to the metal tab and enjoys the way the other fusses. Yoongi's head scurries into Namjoon's neck, biting in some kind of retaliation.

"Yoongi..."

"Godammit, what!" He exclaims, huffing warm breaths onto his neck.

"I want to go all the way - well, I wanna fuck you, I guess is the proper way to put it."

He feels the way Yoongi tenses up, and thrives in the flustered tremble that sticks to his voice.

"Y-Yeah. Then...Okay."

Finally, he pulls the zippers down, and helps Yoongi to raise himself up and pull it down to his ankles. Namjoon's hands strokes the newly exposed skin of his thighs, pale and covered in goosebumps.

Yoongi's hands in the meanwhile, begin to fiddle with the leather belt looped around Namjoon's own jeans. His eyes glazed with steam, like fresh mocha. Namjoon, for a first, lets him have his way as he loosens the pants and fights to pull them down.

"-And one more thing..." Namjoon whispers, leaving a kiss on the shell of his ear.

"What?"

"I love you. You know that right?"

"I love you, too." He says, adding the last part after a hesitant pause. “As more than...best friends. A lot more, actually.”

Namjoon smirks, lips trailing down the length of his neck.

"...Then prove it."

"Do you think it worked?" Jimin's voice flutters into the air; His chin is on the young Jungkook's shoulder, watching as his nimble hands maneuver a paint brush across the canvas, lips tight in concentration as he adds a strike of black.

Snowflakes dance gracefully across the glass window to their side, the ice that had once tangled into the earth leaving a mild frost in its wake. Nothing but whispers of the raging winter night was left.  

"Of course it did. It was my idea." Seokjin declares, hands on his hips as he views the large gallery in Jungkook's workroom. He's bullied the youngest more than a few times about having a useless major, but his collection of artwork never ceased to amaze him. Maybe he won't be a beggar on the streets once he graduates afterall.  

"What if they hate each other after this?" Hoseok says, a pout weighing down his face, a real one this time.

Seokin's broad shoulders shrug. "Then you'll have to live with the guilt, couldn't have done it without your A plus acting. Can't wait to see you at the Oscars next year."

A furious slap from Hoseok lands right on his upper arm, and Seokjin cries out as if he's just been stabbed, doe eyes wide and flickering with false innocence.

Taehyung grins, linking arms with Hoseok. "Don't worry about it too much, Hoseokie. Namjoon and Yoongi aren’t stupid, it won't be that long until he figures out Seungwan and Yoongi were never dating."

Is that so...Because they also spent the last year certain that no one but Seokjin knew about their frequent late night rendezvous, something Seokjin quickly learned was quite the opposite.

"Can someone remind me why Jin said they were again?" Jungkook chimes in.

"Jealousy makes the heart grow fonder, Kookie." Seokjin claims, the eldest always seemed to have wisdom to pass on, even if such words of wisdom fell on deaf ears. "Or I guess, more possessive."

"Why can't people just say they love someone when they love someone, it's not that difficult." That was easy for him to say. Jungkook's one and only crush throughout his first years of college was currently leaning over him and giggling softly into his ear, arms hugging his center.

Whenever he recounted he and Jimin's personal love story, it was a few short sentences, and went something along the lines of "met him at orientation and I thought he was cute. Became friends, then I told him I wanted him and we've been going strong ever since."  No one in the room could even imagine a world in which Jungkook's desire could be rejected, or not returned back tenfold, let alone by lovestruck Park Jimin.

The pause in conversation lasts too long, and Jimin pipes up. "They're probably fucking in the car as we speak."

The room bursts into a series of gasps, boos, and broken laughter. The ringing that follows is barely audible, but Seokjin feels the phone buzz in his back pocket. He hushes the rowdy group, before picking up the call without much as a second thought.

“Hello~?”

There's a shuffling of clothes on the other side, but Yoongi's exasperated voice eventually comes onto the line.

“Each and every one of you are so fucking dead to me.”

[story-and-song]

i have not slept and the only content that my hell brain seems to want to produce at the moment is hollice so uh. imagine, if you would, pre-hornet days with hollis and jake. platonic, romantic, whatever floats your goat. the two of them meeting on the slopes bc they’re the only two willing to try the most dangerous one. bonding over boarding and helping each other improve. hollis initially not thinking much of this weird goofy kid who looks like he climbed directly out of a 90s catalogue but holy shit, can he hold his own out here. he looks like he was born to snowboard, and hollis is impressed in spite of themselves. they start meeting up more frequently on the slopes - the first few times are accidental (and even if they weren’t neither of them would ever admit to keeping track of what times the other seemed to be around.) after a while, they start to expect each other. no plans are ever actually made, but they always wind up at the resort at the same time, every weekend. they bicker back and forth, teasing and challenging and encouraging in equal measure and it’s always in good fun, full of barely-suppressed smiles and windburned cheeks glowing red in the cold.

jake tells everyone at the lodge who will listen about his rad new snowboarding friend, and of course they’re all happy to indulge him - everyone loves jake coolice, after all. the first time he asks if he can bring hollis around after the slopes, mama is unsure. hollis is an unknown. a human. a potential threat. but she sees how jake’s face lights up when he talks about them, and the hope in his eyes, and big crooked smile that she’s seen so much more often since the two of them met, and she just can’t find it in herself to say no. she tells him to be careful, and he throws his arms around her in a massive bear hug. seconds later, he’s tearing out the door. she shakes her head while she watches him go, but she’s smiling. if hollis makes jake happy, then they’re worth it.

hollis never talks to the rest of the residents much, but they’ve met everyone at least once - the first time they came, jake spent half an hour leading them around on a whirlwind tour and introducing them to everyone he could find. they spend most of their time in jake’s room, however, and all the other faces they’ve seen for seconds apiece all blur together anyway. casual conversations about sports and the lodge and the town itself gradually give way to lying on their backs on the carpet at 3 in the morning, sharing the things that neither of them have ever told anyone else. jake says that as much as he loves the lodge and its residents, he sometimes feels trapped. that’s why he’s out on the slopes so often; he never feels more free than when he’s flying down a hill with the wind rushing past his face and his heartbeat thundering in his ears. sometimes he wishes that he could just keep going forever, racing through the mountains over the snow for as long as he wanted. hollis tells him that they know how he feels; they want to make it big someday. maybe it’s a crazy pipe dream, they say, but they can’t live the rest of their life in kepler. they need to see more, do more, live their life outside of the boundaries of a small mountain town. they want to see the world.

when jake asks if they’d want to see it together, they don’t even hesitate to agree.

and then things change, the way they always do. at first, it’s a good thing. hollis meets keith, and brings him along to the slopes one day. he’s a little surly for jake’s tastes, but hollis likes him, and that’s good enough for jake. they become three, and things are still good and casual and fun. then three becomes four, becomes five, becomes a dozen. and the kepler stunt club is born. for a while, jake is on top of the world. this is everything he ever wanted - a group of friends outside of the lodge, people like him in a different way, something to belong to without it taking over his identity.

but then it does. the kepler stunt club starts to spend more time tearing through town on motorbikes and causing a ruckus at the little dipper than snowboarding. okay, that’s okay, jake thinks. they’re just having fun. that’s what friends do. but fun turns into making trouble just for the fuck of it, and jake realizes one day that he’s not having fun anymore. the little group that had once been such a simple friendship has become the punk-ass kids that get dirty looks and gossip everywhere they go. and that’s just not jake’s scene. he doesn’t want that kind of attention, but the others seem to enjoy it.

the day hollis comes up with the new name is the day that jake quits. it’s been a long time coming, and both of them know it, but neither will admit it. they ask what he thinks, and he tells them honestly. maybe the name is dope as hell, but what they’ve started doing isn’t. this isn’t what he wanted. the kepler stunt club was supposed to be about fun, camaraderie in similar interests, helping each other out and pulling off some sick tricks in the process. he doesn’t know what’s changed, but something has, and not for the better. he’s not comfortable with the shit they’re getting up to now.

hollis tells him that he helped start all of this - if he’s unhappy with their direction, it isn’t anyone’s fault but his own.

jake tells them that they’ve lost sight of what’s important, and that he refuses to sit here and watch them spiral into self-destruction. no one will take the group seriously if they develop a reputation as shitty people. how do they expect to make it big then?

hollis says that they’ll make it as they are or not at all, and they’ll do it as a hornet, without jake.

neither of them say that they regret the words as soon as they’re spoken.

jake walks out of the little dipper and doesn’t come back. he doesn’t talk to anyone at the lodge for weeks; dani is on the verge of hunting hollis down and demanding to know what the fuck they did by the time jake admits that he quit. he still goes to the resort whenever he can; no one mentions that he never goes at the same time he used to and is always back by the time peak hours roll around.

eventually, jake seems to recover. he smiles, laughs, resumes his place as the lodge’s resident flurry of energy and joy. if the others notice that he spends more time alone in his room than he used to, they don’t say anything.

the next time he sees hollis, he almost doesn’t recognize them.

they’ve cut their hair and dyed the ends, and they definitely didn’t used to have an eyebrow piercing. he’s almost sure he can see the edge of a tattoo under their sleeve.

but the most eye-catching thing is the jacket. it’s black and yellow, fierce and intimidating, and the hornet emblazoned on the back is even more so. jake ducks out of the grocery store with his heart in his throat, hoping that hollis hasn’t seen him.

he doesn’t notice the soft frown on their face as they watch him leave, something wistful in their eyes that hardens when he steps through the doors.

they both pretend not to have seen each other. they continue to pretend over the next year and a half. they pretend that they don’t notice the other walking down the street, that they don’t miss goofing around on the slopes, that they don’t think about the way things used to be.

they pretend that they don’t miss each other.

it doesn’t change the fact that they do.