#don’t let me do this again it’s miserable

[emsdevs]

The Return

Bear and Bug 🐻🐞

a/n: surprise!! kirby talked me into splitting this part up, so you all get one more part of the main conflict after this!! enjoy!!!

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Bear and Bug Masterlist

Three weeks had passed since you arrived at Cole’s place, and he’s been trying everything under the sun to get you to return to the lake house with him. Today, after getting out of bed, you find out he’s pulled out the big guns. When you walk into the living room, you’re met with not only Cole but also Trevor and Alex. Apparently, Cole had filled them in on the situation, and they changed their flights to Montreal to come help. 

“C’mon. It can’t be that bad. I know for a fact Jack misses you,” Trevor is currently trying to encourage you to come with them, your packed suitcase sitting beside him. At some point during the night, they had snuck into your room and packed your bags, leaving you with no “good” excuse not to go with them.

“You talked to him?” your head shoots toward Trevor, hope filling your eyes. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought.

“...No,” he looks toward the ground as he speaks, “but! I know Jack, and I know he’s probably falling apart at the seams if you two haven’t talked in three weeks. You’re his person. He’s probably dying right now.”

“Oh, great. I’m killing my best friend! This is exactly what I was worried about when Quinn and I got together. He’s been having such a tough time, and I’ve made it a hundred times worse. I’ll be lucky if he ever talks to me again.”

“You’re right. She is being dramatic,” Alex whispers to Cole before stepping forward to try to comfort you. “Look, sweetheart, the only way to make this any better is to bite the bullet. I know you’re scared, but you can’t keep running away from it.”

You were silent for a moment, shocked by the wisdom from Alex. After gathering your thoughts, you spoke, “You’re right. Let me go be sure you all got everything, and then we can head out.”

“No way that worked,” Cole couldn’t believe their plan worked in their favor.

“Bro, when did you become a shrink?”

~~

The tension at the lake house was higher than ever. Ellen and Jim had given up on trying to help their sons work out their issues, so they drove back home for a while, letting the boys stew in their anger. The boys had done nothing except that. Quinn and Luke silently shared an alliance while Jack either ignored them completely or began picking fights. 

“Hope you two are ready to go running back to your precious Bug,” Jack told the other two boys as he walked to the kitchen to grab a snack.

“What do you mean?” Luke answered, sass written all over his question.

“Trev just texted me. He, Alex, and Cole just boarded their flight. With Bug.”

“She’s coming back?” Quinn couldn’t hide the hope in his voice. He didn’t care how Jack felt anymore. He was miserable, and he needed his Bug. 

“Don’t get all excited. That doesn’t mean she’s getting back together with you,” Jack rolled his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you think she’s coming back for you,” Luke doesn’t even attempt to hide the sneer in his voice.

“She’s my best friend, Lukey. Of course, she’s coming back to get in my good graces.” 

“Are you kidding me? Look at how you’ve been treating her, Jack! We’re all lucky she’s even coming back at all!” Quinn is angry now. You’ve probably been hurting more than he has for the past three weeks, and Jack is acting all high and mighty like you’ll come crawling back to him. As far as Quinn is concerned, you don’t need to come crawling back to anybody. If anything, the three of them owe you an apology.

“Of course, you’re sticking up for her! God, she has you wrapped around her finger! You’re so whipped you can’t see that she’s the problem here!”

“No, you don’t get to do that. You know Quinn is right. You’ve been horrible to her, and she deserves an apology. From all of us, honestly. Jesus, I mean, she even put you’re feelings above her happiness. She and Quinn could have been so happy, but you were complaining about how horrible the NHL is every night, so her main concern was protecting you. Mind you, you are not one of the two people in that relationship, so the fact she took your feelings about it into account at all is a kind of grace that you obviously don’t deserve. Why don’t you get down from your high horse and think about everything Bug has done for you? Then, you can tell us if she’s the one that needs to apologize or not,” Luke doesn’t give Jack time to answer, walking off as soon as he finishes his speech. Quinn doesn’t hesitate in following, only giving Jack a sharp look before making his way to your room once again. He found Luke already there, so they sat on your bed together, putting on a movie and soon falling asleep.

Jack, now alone in the living room, takes the time to do as Luke said. He thought back to when he knew you’d be his best friend forever. You two had silently agreed to have separate friend groups at school, but when you saw Jack’s friends had left him alone one day at lunch, you left your friends to go sit with him. They stopped talking to you after that, but you were fine with it because you had Jack. He thought about everything you had sacrificed for him, even skipping out on joining an afterschool club because it would conflict with some of his game times. How many times had you put Jack first, even when you could’ve had something really good for you if you had put yourself first? He could think of at least one: Quinn. He’s a horrible best friend. 

Jack lost track of how long he sat there, losing himself in his thoughts that were slowly becoming more and more self-deprecating, but before he knew it, he heard the front door opening. Moments later, he jumps to his feet when he sees you walk into the living area.

“Hey,” he says, slightly out of breath.

“Hey.”

taglist: @heartsforjh @devilinpradaheels @coldheartedmar @juxmi @puckmedude @alexxavicry @dancerbailey3 @hockey43 @madebyhappymeals @ccomandercody @kirajessie @beenucks @iamspeed6

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[lavenderchqn]

✧・┆drunk on love — lyney

— it's the evening of lyney's birthday when you receive a call to retrieve your drunk partner from the lovely hands of his friend group's.

this piece is set after the story of red lines, although it works as a standalone read~

content warning: lyney is drunk. he's silly, but he's drunk.

Your eyes are barely open when your phone rings. You’ve been trying to finish correcting your master thesis for the entire evening, after sending your boyfriend out to spend his birthday with his friends. Taking a glance at the caller, as well as the time, you notice it’s Wriothesley. 

You answer the phone, worry already seeping into your mind. “Hello?”. There are so many things that could’ve gone wrong… given Lyney’s ability to handle alcohol. 

“Hi,” Wriothesley says breathlessly, sounding more than exhausted. “Sorry to be calling you so late.” 

“It’s alright, what’s up?” You interrupt, drumming your other hand on your keyboard. “You sound miserable, man.” 

“Tell me about it…” He says voice muffled as if he’s covered his mouth with his hand. “I hate being the designated driver on nights like these.” 

“They made you the designated driver?!” Shock fills your voice. “You didn’t drink, did you?” 

“I didn’t, don’t worry—“ Wriothesley laughs. “Quite amusing to see this lot completely drunk. I mean, Neuvillette has been crying about Furina breaking one of her nails for the entire time.” 

“Ahh, gotcha.” You nod to yourself, hoping that the man will get back on track soon. “Do you need my help with something?” You ask. Wriothesley calling you is not something that happens regularly. At most, he'd only send you embarrassing pictures of your boyfriend. 

“Lyney’s been calling out for you since he took a shot of whiskey. I don’t think I can take him, Furina and Neuvillette home without a drink myself in between…” 

As if on cue, Lyney — the man in question — seems to notice he’s being talked about that. You can hear a sudden movement followed by a cheerful laugh. 

“Hi, baby!~” Lyney’s voice seems more joyous than ever. Yeah, that man is as drunk as a kite. “I miss you so so so much!!” 

“Having fun?” You ask, a small smile gracing your face. Given how stressful the winter season was for everyone involved, with the ever-nearing period of defending their scientific titles approaching, you felt nothing but happiness that Lyney went out to celebrate his birthday with his friends. 

“Not the same without youu…” With how he's speaking, there must be a small pout on his face — his eyebrows knit. “No, no no… Wrio, let me talk man…” Ah. Wriothesley must be making a deal with your boyfriend to retrieve his phone. 

“As I was saying,” The sole sober person speaks. “You’d do me a huge favour by coming to pick your prince.” 

“I’ll go put on my shoes and be on the way.” You say. “Just send me the address. Oh, and don’t allow Lyney to drink more, alright?” 

“Will do. Thanks, and sorry, again” 

The message containing the group’s location comes the moment you end the call. Dressing yourself in anything comfortable, you’re ready to head out and take Lyney’s car. Ever since getting your driver’s license, he swore the only car you’d ever need is his. 

Luckily the road is not too crowded, nor glistened from the rain despite all the inside jokes of Neuvillette’s tears causing it. You arrive without much issue, already spotting the group as you pull up to the parking lot. 

Wriothesley is busy balancing an asleep Furina and Neuvillette who keeps on sobbing, head supported on his shoulder. Lyney’s standing on his two feet, zipping up his jacket. Lovely. Perhaps getting him back to the house will be easier than expected. He seems to spot you, approaching as you park the vehicle. 

His eyes curve into straight lines as he breaks into a smile. Swaying from side to side, he throws himself into your embrace, burying his face into your shoulder. “Missed youuu”

“One child less to care for?” You ask Wriothesley while patting Lyney’s head.

“Unless you turn the car around…” He chuckles, readjusting Neuvillette’s position. “Thanks for the help, really.” 

“Happy to help, Wrio.” With that, you split — each of you heading to their car. With the way you’re both basically dragging other people, it does take a while. “Message me when you’re home!” You shout as he’s settling his friends into the backseat. 

“You too!”   

“You’re going need to let go of me, Love.” You say, still patting Lyney’s head. It’s been almost five minutes of you standing out in the cold, your partner too clingy to allow you to drive the two of you back. “I promise you, once we’re home you’ll get all the cuddles.” 

The blonde turns his head, looking directly at you. It’s unfair, you think, that even underneath this lighting, he still looks like a statue. His hair is unusually curly, and a pair of glasses is balancing on his nose. Not to mention the pure delight in his violet eyes, matching the warm, albeit drunk smile. 

“Pinky?” He extends his finger, looking determined. Of course, he’d make you promise something as silly as this. You quickly interlock with one of your own, moving afterwards to open his door. 

“Get in,” You smile, holding the door for him. “You’re the passenger prince today.” 

All you can hear back is the tiny gibberish thoughts of a drunken man. You help him with the safety belt, and only when you confirm he’s actually buckled in, do you take your designated driver’s seat. 

For the first time during your ride, it’s completely quiet. You’re unsure if Lyney’s fallen asleep, but checking the overhead mirror tells you his eyes are very much awake. His head sways slightly as if he was listening to music. 

“What’s on the playlist?” You ask, leaning your head towards him, as to signal you’re talking to him. 

“Marry you.” 

You blink, momentarily distracted by his response. “Marry you? That’s what's in your head right now?" You tease, stealing a quick glance in his direction. 

Lyney nods enthusiastically, though the movement is a bit too exaggerated in his tipsy state. “Yep! As Bruno says… It’s a beautiful night,” he slurs with a dreamy smile. “I wanna marry youuuuu.” His voice, although off-key, is filled with unmistakable affection, and it takes everything in you not to laugh.

“You’re so drunk, baby.” You say with a chuckle, shaking your head at him missing some of the words.

“But I’m honest!” He protests, his pout returning. “I think we should… should get married. Like, tomorrow. Or maybe today? We’re both free today!” 

“Lyney,” You sigh, though you can’t hide the grin tugging at your lips. “You’re not even going to remember this conversation in the morning.” 

“Will too!” He insists, crossing his arms in a huff, though his coordination betrays him and he almost smacks himself in the face. “I’ll remember everything. Like how much I love you, and how I wanna spend all my birthdays with you. And how…” His voice trails off, softer now. “How you’re the best thing in my whole world.” 

Your heart squeezes at his words, even if they’re fuelled by alcohol. “Alright, my sweet drunk prince,” You say gently. “Let’s get you home first, and then we can talk about this… grand proposal of yours.” 

“Promise?” He mumbles, already starting to doze off. 

“I promise,” You reply softly, glancing at him through the mirror again. His eyelids are drooping, his lips curled into a content smile as sleep claims him. 

date of posting — february 2nd 2025

[liquorflower]

𝐥’𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞 𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐫𝐞 — 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢

summary: the job needs to be done, the important thing right now is finishing him, but, what can you do when he’s the one who’s going to make you finish, but in the other way?

wc: 2.2k

cw: mentions of acts of terr0r1sm, edging, manhandling, creampie, reference to le charme discret de la bourgeoisie and gunplay (not in the sex) if u squint, age gap kento’s in his late 30’s and reader in early 20’s)

a/n: well, i hope you enjoy. likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated thank you

it was you, again. kento wonders if you’re not tired of making this thing over and over, because your actions just demonstrate you’re not capable of killing even a miserable cockroach. all those failed attempts at homemade bombs and now, having the audacity to enter his consulate were the straw that broke the camel’s back. first, strange events that made it impossible to have dinner with their peers and now this.

he had to teach you a lesson didn’t he?

and gazing how your hands tremble, he knew by other hand about how other revolutionaries didn’t hesitate to shoot at their oppressors. but your heart is racing, increasing euphoria you can’t even explain yourself and you don’t seem capable of pulling the trigger.

but he can play that same game.

there’s gun under the pillow of his refined bed, in his opulent room, scenario that holds the future crime scene of his murder if he doesn't play his cards right. strangely enough, he’s not scared at all, could be your ragged clothes (that’s the respective way to call that hippie fashion) or the beauty you possess that makes him have some sort of compassion for you.

“does this have any use, dear?” he wanders through the room, trying to negotiate, persuade. as he does this, he diligently gets near the bed, having a seat. “how many times are we going to get through this, hmm?” his hand slides prudent and deliberately, as his gaze remains pierced in your eyes. they seem determined, but he can tell it’s just a stupid facade.

the revolver points at the direction he’s moving. you don’t say a word and only stare at him. you are pondering on why he can be so calm in this situation, you point a goddamn weapon and you can pull the trigger at any moment, and the only thing that will remain of him will be his brain scattered all over the place. but if you were concentrated, instead of paying attention to the turmoil of your thoughts, if you had payed attention you would’ve anticipated that he was going to pull out another pistol and also point at you.

shit, it was that obvious.

“i told you, sweetie. think about it. you’re still young,” he looks you over from head to toe, plotting a machiavellian plan, “beautiful…

you gulp.“don’t bullshit me.”

“hey, let’s take it easy. i’ll give you a chance. you can give me the gun, i’ll let you go and we’ll pretend none of this happened and we can go on with our lives as always… have you ever thought to go to college? bet you do. just leave this silly idealization of this perfect world. i get it, i once was young, but you can make the difference in other ways.” he persuades. both remaining stiff. the tension is close to the surface.

something convincing in his words resonates within your brain. for example, when was the last time you’ve eaten a decent meal or have slept in a comfy bed? all you can think about are the walls of the family stained in filth and shit. and everyone on top of each other for warmth — it wasn’t a place you could call home.

you don’t know what happened, but the next thing you know, is that you hand is giving him the gun, trembling and looking at the hollow and manly cheeks of kento. he’s wearing a robe. a slight blush heats your cheeks when you realize that.

“good choice.” he slightly bows his head, a cocky smile forms in his lips. “now, be a good girl and wait for me. i’ll…” he examines the weapon,“keep this thing downstairs. we don’t want some… collateral damages, do we?” and just like that, he leaves the room, not even bothering to see if you’d be capable of doing something else.

how did you falter like this? shit, shit, what you’re supposed to do now? now that you were so closer…

completely shocked, you take a seat on the bed. pleasant to lay your ass in, you think. as you grasp the velvety sheets, your palm notices a a cold surface.

he left the other gun neatly placed in the bed. a colt junior, smoothly laying there. not a big one, it is barely 5 inches long but perfect for self defense. is he stupid? why did he leave it there? your heart races, what it seemed to be like a lost opportunity, suddenly turns out again into a new hope.

so, you grab the gun and put it in your purse, thinking it is the perfect chance to shoot him dead.

sadly, destiny decided that it wasn't bound to be that way.

tiptoeing, trying to not make any noise, you manage to reach the door frame, your hand holds the weapon steady. even in this instant, you steered to be trapped again in your own net.

an enormous hand covers your mouth and the gasp gets encapsulated inside your throat.

was adrenaline, euphoria, rush, but you straightaway pulled out the gun out of your bag and pulled the trigger.

but nothing happened.

“bet you thought i left that thing there by mere coincidence, didn’t you?” he chuckled as he took you back to his room. you try to fight, make some loud noises behind that palm.

you are becoming quite annoying, and the next thing you know is that he put the barrel in your face and now that death seems closer than ever, you sob and warm tears run down your face.

the stupid bag.

“shit, how could i…” he mutters, managing to take your bag and continue pointing the revolver at you.

he empties it and only old papers and coins are inside — nothing that might seem like a threat . he just worried for nothing.

for you, now everything is lost. you’re going to end up dead and possible that not even the leader could notice that.

but he just doesn’t stop there.

“you must be hiding something.” he tightens the pressure of the barrel on your face and throws away the bag.

his other hand wanders down your waistline, palpating every part. unconsciously, you squeeze your thighs and a shiver runs down your spine, more when his hand is touching up each part of you until he reaches one of your breasts. he clasps it between his fingers.

you’re not wearing a single thing. despite an overwhelming urge to do something else, he keeps his examination, fingers going down, probing, checking every inch of skin to find any sort of irregularity — some other surface different from human soft skin.

however, he is doing something wrong and doesn’t trust the fabric of your clothes. sometimes other sorts of artefacts can be hidden from god knows where and can go unnoticed, and these matters, those little slips can affect and build tension with other countries, hence, need to be taken seriously.

with that in mind, his hand explored the flesh of your thighs, going under your clothes. you remain paralyzed. you’re not sure whether it’s because you are either in a panic or you know that trying to make something, even shouting, will cost you a bullet in the head. both are valid reasons to avoid causing more problems and gulping, you just let them explore all of your body.

the hem of your panties is the only thing that he can detect and decides to go even further. he examines, the palms of his hand are tender, soft — of course, he has never gotten to experience any kind of struggle or what hard work meant. despite acknowledging this, you shudder at the touch of his grip, almost wanting him to do something else.

and surely he does.

having notice that you are numb, blunted, he puts the weapon in one of the pockets of his robe and now the other hand joins to this inspection. a heat boils between your legs when his arms pull up your dress now exposing all of your body. hardened nipples and goosebumps are the new texture his palms grasp.

“ngh…” you sob

“calm down, sweetheart. I just need to know if you’re not hiding something else.” his digits go down, painfully slow, and with his tips, pulls down your panties. cheeks are flushed and you can’t help but feel the need of him wanting more of you.

“check all you want.” you’re voice whispered vaguely. now your will is completely broken. you can’t believe you’re betraying all you thought was for a greater good just to see how far he can go.

he throws you into bed. panties are stretched between your legs and he grabs you by the hips, just to have a clear view of your pussy. you bite your lip. scanning him, you can pay close attention to his imposing figure, thinking if this was worth it.

he grabs your wrists, making sure you’re not trying something, even though you have a main idea of what that might result. with that in mind, you bury your face in the soft mattress, not sure if he saw you biting your lip.

he rises up your trembling legs and grabs the cheek of your ass to open up and have a clear view of your cunt. you gulp, your pussy clenches and your clit pulsates. you let out a whimper, and just hearing that sound of yours, makes his cock twitch.

it is erotic see how it was only necessary to untie the knot of the robe to see that all this time he was naked, and now, pondering if all the time his cock was erected while he wandered every part of your body, makes the situation even more sultry.

“just see how slutty you are, huh? taking my cock that you’re not able to shoot that damn gun?” damn. when he slides in, you notice how wet you were and open your eyes big, not expecting to be that fast.

and you need to have in mind he just buried half of his shaft inside you. and he just leaves it there, because he takes his time to look at your body all placed in his bed, with your fingers latching onto the sheets.

“it hurts…” you whimper.

“you can can handle it, whore.” a shiver runs down your spine. you could’ve imagined at one point you would end up insulting at each other, but not like this, with your legs sprawled out and having a part of his cock fluttering and trapped tight within your walls.

“please… how can this not hurt anymore?” you beg, your drenched juices make him easier to slide even deeper, but now, hearing you whimper makes him wonder how sensitive you really are, that you are already falling apart with just a part of his length.

“well,” he moves slightly, and your eyes open wide again.

“fu-u-ck…” you pant and gulp.

“tsch, language.” the more words he says, the more he dives, open wide, tearing you. fucking feels good but pleasure has his price and though it brings a delightful pain, you can’t stand it, he needs to move or something… or else, you’ll fall apart.

“mmm, god it hurts, please,” you mewl, and best thing that comes to your mind, is to stroll your hips, to see if it can hit your sweet spot. “i want you to fuck me so badly, please… please…”

he lets out a malicious huff, and, without warning, he clasps errands of your hair and tightens his grip. it goes deeper and you whine. his hips start to collide with your ass. soft movements, the ones that are anticipating that he’s going to fasten his pace.

you breath heavily, your sloppy cunt opens up with every single thrust. “fuck, you’re taking it soo well.” he groans through his teeth,“bet you never thought we’re going to end up like this? you want me so bad, don’t you?” with every dirty assumption, you can’t help but moan.

he violently presses your head against the mattress and his cock delves in places you never thought it felt so good. the sticky sounds he makes each time he stretches your pussy is the only symphony that could be heard in the room.

“it feels good, isn’t it?” he teases between chattered teeth. his hips make obscene clap sounds.

“yes, yes…” your voice reverberates.

he pulls you up with the grip of your hair and with his hand, he grabs your neck and keeps now your neck is his grip to shoving his cock, almost disappearimg inside your clammy and loosen walls. his tip it’s circling around your depths jabbing with no mercy. he bites your cheek and every friction makes you loose your mind. “mhhh, i can’t take it anymore.” your back arches because you have already cum and your body twitches against his body.

“shhh, we’re not done yet.” it is painfully delicious how he feels your insides twitching around him and he fastens his movements.

“it feels so good…” the other orgasm made your sweet spot to become more sensitive and your pretty eyes flutter with every jab. your legs are shaking, you would like to close them right now, but most probably is that he won’t let you do it.

“shit…” he throws you back at the bed again, and still thrusting you faster, his body falls trembles but he manages to keep a normal pace. thick and warm ropes of his cum make your pussy palpitate and shake, cummining for the second time.

all of that experience makes you think seriously to phone your mom and tell her college was a good idea after all.

[killuasskateboard]

BOOMSHAKALAKA ok a thought ive always had is basically during the greed island arc, when yk how their training under bisky. I NEED a one shot abt reader training w them and over some time, bisky notices the tension n feelings between us n kil HAHA, and right before killua leaves greed island to retake the hunter exam, bisky motivates us to confess to kil and we return back to her w good results ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

also ty for the support u have for my @pe4cht3a sideblog :33 ur doing so well, i love ur killua works ପ (๑´ ˘ ` ๑) ଓ ♡

A/n: thank you sososo much for requesting againn! I love your requests, and plus im running out of ideas (⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠), and OFCC i love your works smm! Tysm for the support you have in my sideblog too !! I hope the story is up to your expectations!! Enjoy (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

Unspoken feelings

The sun had begun its slow descent, casting golden light over the open training field. The air buzzed with energy as you stood across from Killua, fists clenched, body aching from hours of sparring.

“Give up yet?” Killua smirked, wiping a trickle of sweat from his temple.

You scoffed, rolling your shoulders. “Not a chance.”

Nearby, Gon sat cross-legged on the grass, watching with an eager grin. “You guys always fight really hard! It’s kinda fun to watch.”

Bisky, who had been observing from a nearby rock, let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fun isn’t the word I’d use. Painful is more like it.”

You and Killua turned to her, puzzled.

“Painful?” you repeated.

Bisky smirked, polishing her nails. “Oh, don’t play dumb. The tension between you two is ridiculous.”

Killua groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Not this again.”

Gon tilted his head, blinking in confusion. “Tension? What do you mean?”

Bisky grinned mischievously. “Come on, Gon. Even you must have noticed. The way these two are always competing, always staring each other down, always bickering like an old married couple.”

You felt heat rush to your face. “We do not—”

“Oh! I kinda see what you mean,” Gon cut in, nodding in realization. “You and Killua are always focused on each other, even when we’re not training. And sometimes, you guys just stand there, staring at each other, but then one of you looks away really fast!”

Killua choked on his own breath. “We do not do that!”

“Yeah, you do!” Gon said enthusiastically. “Like yesterday, when we were fishing, and you were watching y/n instead of the water—”

Killua immediately clamped a hand over Gon’s mouth, his face bright red. “Gon, shut up!”

You covered your own face with your hands, mortified beyond belief.

Bisky let out a satisfied hum. “See? Even Gon noticed. And he’s as dense as a brick.”

Gon mumbled something against Killua’s hand, and when Killua reluctantly let him go, he grinned. “I think you guys like each other.”

Killua groaned loudly, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m leaving. I can’t do this.”

You, on the other hand, were too busy trying to will yourself into the earth.

✩*⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠*✩

That night, you sat on a grassy hill overlooking the sea, hugging your knees to your chest. Bisky’s words echoed in your mind. 'You’re really gonna let him leave without saying anything?'

You groaned, burying your face in your arms.

“You look miserable.”

You jumped, turning to find Killua standing behind you, hands shoved in his pockets, his usual smirk in place.

“I wouldn’t be if people stopped sneaking up on me,” you grumbled.

He sat beside you, stretching his legs out in front of him. “So, what’s up? Feeling guilty about losing to me earlier?”

You shot him a glare, but your heart wasn’t in it. “Not everything is about competition, you know.”

Killua snorted. “Since when?”

Silence settled between you, the sound of waves crashing against the shore filling the space.

Then, after a moment, Killua spoke again.

“You’re really upset about me leaving, huh?”

You hesitated before answering. “…Yeah.”

Killua glanced at you, his expression softer than usual. “I mean, I’m coming back. It’s not like I’m disappearing forever.”

You exhaled, gripping the grass beneath your fingers. “I know. But… training and collecting spell cards won’t be the same without you.”

Killua didn’t respond right away. Then, to your surprise, he let out a small chuckle. “You’re really bad at this, you know.”

You frowned. “At what?”

He turned to face you fully, his smirk fading into something more genuine. “At hiding how much you like me.”

Your heart stopped. “I—”

But before you could stammer out a response, Killua reached over and flicked your forehead lightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

You blinked, shocked. “Wait—so you—?”

Killua shrugged, looking away. “Yeah. I wasn’t gonna say anything, though. Figured you’d come around eventually.”

You punched his arm, but warmth bloomed in your chest. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re predictable,” he teased.

Despite the bickering, something had changed. The tension, the rivalry, the unspoken feelings—they were finally out in the open.

And when you returned to Bisky the next morning, slightly red-faced but grinning, she took one look at you and smirked.

“Good results?”

You nodded.

Gon, as cheerful as ever, beamed. “I knew it!”

Bisky laughed, folding her arms. “Took you both long enough.”

End.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

Thank you for reading !!

Feel free to request, ill answer them if i have the time and if i have the inspiration to do so. I am sorry if there are some grammar mistakes, english isnt my first language.

Have a nice day/night (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

[all-pacas]

I finished nobody’s fault & chase and I couldn’t understand why chase wouldn’t forgive house. Like obviously he’s traumatised and couldn’t walk but it feels like I’m just missing sth crucial. Chase did reason it with his doubts…but I don’t know if he honestly believed them. Any thoughts?

In a lot of very interesting ways, Nobody's Fault/Chase reads to me like a pretty direct continuation of Teamwork. Of S6. Cameron leaves the show talking about how House is poison, how he ruins people and ruined Chase specifically: House is reckless, House makes people act like him, House has ruined Chase's life. And… it's unfair, but it's not entirely wrong. Chase has become a worse person over the years. He has become a lonelier and more bitter person.

Nobody's Fault makes it fairly clear that legally, the stabbing was not House's fault. Chase fucked up, Adams fucked up, everyone made mistakes. House wasn't really even involved, but at the same time, none of it would have happened if not for House. This is Cameron's "poison" speech come back around: House spends years encouraging recklessness and results and defiance, and eventually it's going to backfire and hurt someone. House never told Chase to murder Dibala, but House taught Chase to act and not care about laws or consequences.

HOUSE: She blames me for Dibala's murder, not you. CHASE: You were barely involved in that case. She knows that. HOUSE: But I created the big, bad, evil climate that allowed it to happen. (teamwork)

CAMERON: You did kill Dibala. By playing God and teaching us to do the same. HOUSE: I taught you to think for yourselves. (teamwork)

COFIELD: You brazenly defied your boss. Now that happened either because Dr. House has established that that's okay in his world, or his prank war distracted you, or House makes medicine a game, and you just wanted to beat him. Whatever the reason, it boils down to the fact that you may never walk again because House created an atmosphere that promotes recklessness. (nobody's fault)

This is actually kind of a theme. We even see shades of it in The Mistake, in House Training, in Wilson urging 13 to work for House because she alone is immune to his influence, in Masters and Cameron leaving entirely: House changes people. Not for the better.

So, does Chase truly blame House for what happened? No. At the end of the day, Chase's loyalty to House did win out, and he defends him pretty strongly to Cofield; in fact, he's also able to point out that House was, despite his appearance, wildly concerned and worried and Chase knew it (let's not forget, Chase has always been very good at reading House). He seems to blame himself (using the same "I would do it again" language as he used in Teamwork). But that doesn't mean he isn't angry at House.

Chase is very similar to Forever, Foreman's reaction to his own near death experience. Foreman almost died, and is putting on an act of being a new person to try and give meaning to the event. Chase does sort of the same thing — except he comes to the opposite conclusion. He almost died, and it seems to have made him realize how completely miserable he is. House isn't to blame for the stabbing. He kind of is for that.

That's kind of a theme with Chase in S8 in particular. He takes a year off and is bored and waiting for House. In a later episode, he wonders why he's still working for House: he's in year seven of a three year fellowship. Foreman is the Dean of Medicine; Cameron is running an ER in Chicago. Chase is exactly where he started. His entire life is working for House. And he kind of hates it. Not House, but… his life, you know? He picked House over his marriage. He picked his fellowship over his very successful surgical career. What has he gotten for it? Divorced, lonely, bitter… stabbed. He's thrown his morals away. He killed a man in cold blood. Is he happy? Probably not.

Chase is unhappy, he feels (somewhat fairly) that his life is not what he wanted, and like Foreman years earlier, he's trying to make changes. He wants out of House's orbit. He's reflecting on what he wants, and his arguments against Moira joining her convent are… pretty telling: She's missing out on getting married. Having kids. Having a successful career. He tells her later he was married once, that he wants a relationship with her. We know these things are true; only two years ago Chase was absolutely convinced he had it with Cameron. But at the same time, he's grasping at straws. He wants to escape, to start over. He blames House for how his life turned out.

CHASE: I need to get away from House and everything that reminds me of him. ADAMS: By breaking the rules, not caring what anyone else thinks. You're gonna get away from him by turning into him? (chase)

CHASE: This has nothing to do with the truth. You don't like that I'm reassessing my life, that I want to change it, that I can. HOUSE: Anyone can screw up a life. I never said that wasn't possible. CHASE: You're incapable of human connection, so you want everyone to be like you. (chase)

And the thing is, Cameron must be rolling in her grave right now, because. This is what she was saying. House ruins people, he poisons them: he has influenced Chase and not for the better. Chase now, finally, agrees. He isn't happy with his life, and he's blaming House the same way Cameron did. He's angry with House and can't forgive House, not because Chase really blames him for the stabbing, but because he's in his words reassessing, he wants to change, he sees House (correctly, mind you) as the symptom of all these changes: it's not fair to blame House — House wasn't sitting and doing this intentionally — but it's inarguable that a decade with House has done this. (And I love how Nobody's Fault underlines just that point. Chase has been here the longest. He has known House the longest.)

But House is right, too. Chase wanting to change is sincere, but it's also a reaction. He is unhappy, but jumping straight to I will live happily ever after with this random lady isn't a solution. And implicitly, Chase agrees: the fact that Chase has spent half the season with very short hair and stubble, then these episodes limping, is not an accident. Nor is the fact that at the end of Chase and going forward, Chase is clean shaven, back to his usual hairstyle, and no longer limping.

I also think their argument at the end of Chase was. Important. House telling him it's okay, even if not in those words. That he isn't an idiot, that he didn't make a mistake or do something wrong (when Chase from his language and unhappiness over the past few years doesn't seem to agree). They've long since left the days where Chase was slavishly seeking House's approval, but that doesn't mean it didn't mean something to finally get it. I think House telling him you didn't do anything wrong was what Chase really needed: not just the words, but hearing it from House, in a moment where Chase is feeling lost and wanting to change and wanting to blame House (for being miserable, for not connecting to others, for being lonely and alone like Chase fears himself)? That mattered.

And we see going forward that Chase actually does change. He becomes close to Park, he stops sleeping around, he leaves PPTH on his own terms, finally (even if it doesn't exactly stick for long). Cameron was right all along that House changed Chase for the worse… but House and Chase seem to realize that doesn't have to stay that way, and that Chase can still change and be happier going forward.

[mommyslittlebird]

Fairytale

Stepmom!Wanda x Reader

Request: i had a thought of where wanda / step mom wanda comforts reader after a bad day and a lot angst and fluff too

CW: Stepmom/Stepdaughter, themes of depression, spoilers for the Disney movie Tangled (??)

Word Count: 2k (whoops this was supposed to be a drabble. Whatever.)

A/N: Thank you for the request! This takes place when R was 18 before she left for school, so a prequel to the main story of Her Special Girl.

A/N: Fuck my original A/N here that said this one isn't good. This one is cute and I like it.

It was pouring when you finally got home from work. You walked into the house in your uniform, soaked from the rain.

You saw Wanda in the kitchen, fixing dinner. She’s a wonderful cook, but in your current state the food made your stomach turn. You felt nauseous. You hadn’t eaten all day at work, but you still couldn’t imagine eating anything.

Your dad was at the table reading a newspaper. He didn’t acknowledge you’d come home.

“Hey, little love!” Wanda chimed excitedly, but her face falls when her eyes meet yours. You looked terrible, eyes sunken in, dark with exhaustion. You couldn’t even bring yourself to give her a smile. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You didn’t respond, trying to escape to the privacy of your bedroom before the emotions of the day spilled out of you. You dashed up the stairs.

Your dad set down his newspaper with a frustrated thud. He moved to get up and reprimand you for ignoring your stepmother, but Wanda stopped him.

“Vis, you just make sure my pasta doesn’t burn. I’ll take care of it.”

————

She found you in your room, curled up in the center of the bed. You were still wearing your wet and dirty work clothes, but you’d thrown on one of Wanda’s hoodie. It practically swallowed you with how big it was. The sight melted Wanda’s heart.

“Sweetheart?” She called into the room. You turned over in bed, hiding your face in the hoodie. She came to sit next to on the bed, rubbing gentle circles on the back you’d turned on her. She could feel then that you were crying. You were silent, but she could feel the erratic way you were breathing as your chest heaved. “What’s wrong, baby? It’s okay. Mama’s here. Mama’s got you honey. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know,” you cried weakly. “I don’t know what’s wrong. It’s just… everyday is like this. I just wake up with this feeling of despair, and then I go to work and everything is so loud and there’s too many smells and I have to pretend to be happy while I make everyone’s coffee, but I’m just so so tired. I feel like my mind and body are screaming and crying for someone to help me, but this is just my life and no one is coming to save me.”

Wanda pulled you into her lap, not caring that you were still soaking wet. She shushed your cries and rocked you back and forth, letting you ramble and sob into her arms. She tucked your wet hair under her chin, pulling you to her chest so you could feel the gentle beating of her heart. “Shhshsh, let it all out honey. You’re home now. Mama’s got you.”

“All I can do is escape to this white knight fairytale where things are different, and I have friends again, and I don’t have to go on like this. But I’m just being repeatedly ripped out of that fairytale and pulled back into this awful reality I have no choice but to live in. I’m a high school drop out, all my friends left me, I hate my job but I’m just going to hate any job that takes up so much of my time. I can pretend all I want that things are or will be different but this is real life and I’m miserable! I’m miserable and I’m going to be like this until I die!” You sobbed, breathlessly heaving into Wanda’s chest.

Wanda felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. She wished she could be your white knight, take you somewhere far away where you didn’t have to worry about all of the awful things happening in your life. She couldn’t imagine what your situation must feel like right now, hopelessly trying to claw your way out of a well you’re stuck at the bottom of. There were things she was working with you on. You were going to get your GED at the end of the year, but it was still going to be another year before you could even start applying to colleges. The road was going to be long, but she was confident you’d pull through.

That wasn’t what you needed right now, though. You didn’t need to hear her say that just maybe, in a whole two years, you might be able to get your life back on track. You needed something now. You needed something to get you through the night.

“How about this,” she proposed, holding your teary face in her hands. “You take a nice warm shower and get all nice and clean while I go downstairs and finish dinner for your dad and the boys. And then I’ll come back up here with some mac and cheese and some chicken nuggets and we have a special girls’ night?”

You sniffled hesitantly, unsure if you could handle it all: the shower, the food, the company. But in the end, you nodded. Your only other option was to sit in here, alone, withering away in your cold work uniform.

“That’s my sweet girl,” she cooed, pinching you lightly on the cheek. “I’ll pick out some pjs for you and get your water running. One step at a time, angel. I know it’s hard, but you can do this.” She gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, and walked off to start your shower.

It felt insurmountable, but you got up, washed yourself off in the shower, and dried off before putting on the pajamas Wanda set out for you. On top, there was a fresh one of her sweatshirts for you to wear. You threw it on, inhaling her sweet scent with your arms up to your nose. You made your way back into your bedroom.

Within five minutes of you getting back, Wanda came knocking on your door with some mac and cheese and microwave chicken nuggets. Your stomach turned at the sight of the food. Even your safest meal felt nauseating.

“I know you don’t wanna eat, love, but you’ve gotta try and eat at least a little bit for me, okay? We’ll start with two nuggets and half of the mac and cheese,” she says.

You nodded, reluctantly taking the plate and working on your mac and cheese.

“Now, I think it’s time for a movie and some cuddles, don’t you think?” Wanda asked, already setting up the pillows and blankets on the bed. “What would you like to watch?”

You shrugged, unable to think of anything helpful while fighting your stomach for cooperation. “You pick.”

Wanda gave you a soft smile of understanding. She understood the inability to make a decision, and she was more than happy to make one in your stead. She ended up putting Tangled on the small tv in your room.

She sat against your headboard, legs spread and tapped the space in between, welcoming you to sit. When you did, she threw your favorite blanket over your shoulders and set your favorite stuffed animal, Thomas, in your lap. You rested your chin on his head.

“Do you want me to braid your hair like Rapunzel’s?” She asked once you’d gotten to the hair brushing scene.

You buried your face into Thomas. “I-I didn’t wash it in the shower,” you admitted shamefully. It needed to be washed after being in the rain, but you were out of energy.

“That’s okay,” she assured without judgement, starting a French braid on your dirty, wet hair. “We’ll put some dry shampoo in it in the morning.” She braided your hair with you curled up between her legs, tying it off with a little pink ribbon.

“If I were Rapunzel, I’d let you climb up my hair,” you said when she finished, leaning back against her chest.

She wrapped her arms around your waist, giggling at your silly antidote and kissing the back of your head. “You would?”

You nodded against her shoulder. “Yeah. Not dad though.”

Wanda smiled and giggled again. “You just want your tower to be me and you? No one else?”

You shook your head. “Just me and mama, in our tower together.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Just you and mama in a tower, huh? I can definitely get behind that. What would we do in our tower all day?”

You shrugged. “You could braid my hair, and we could sings songs, read books together, paint the walls, snuggle in our bed. We could do whatever we wanted really.”

She smiled, noting that you had said ‘our bed’, implying your dream castle only had one bed for the two of you to share. “So they would be no one to stop me from doing this?” She turned your head with her hand and placed a gentle kiss to your lips.

You looked at her for just a moment before chasing her lips again. And again. And again.

She giggled. “Okay, honey. That’s enough.” She certainly didn’t mind the kisses, but she knew you’d spend the whole movie kissing her if she let you. And she still had plans.

You curled back up in her lap. Right. You were letting yourself get lost in fairytale again. You weren’t in a tower in the forest with no one else. You were in real life, with your father and step-brothers in the rooms surrounding you. Wanda wasn’t your handsome rogue, she was your stepmother. This wasn’t a quirky pairing between a theft and a princess. This was a disgustingly taboo relationship that would ostracize you from everyone in your life if they found out.

Wanda wrapped her arms back around you, pulling you close. “Hey, princess,” she said, kissing your temple. She sensed your discomfort and could immediately tell what you were thinking. She wanted to stay with you in this fairytale for just a little longer. It couldn’t be forever, of course, but you could play pretend, for now. “We don’t have to leave our tower just yet. We have until morning, just the two of us.”

“M-morning?” You asked. Wanda always had to leave early in the night. She had to go back her room so your dad wouldn’t get suspicious.

She stroked your hair, slicking back the frizzy hairs that escaped your braid. “I told your dad that you’re not feeling well and I was gonna stay in here tonight.” She pointed to the packed air mattress on the floor. She had no plans of sleeping on it, of course, but she needed to make the lie believable.

You looked at her with wide teary eyes, unable to believe she’d do such kind thing for you, even when the risk of it was so high. She just returned the look with a soft smile and redirected your attention to the movie.

The movie was nearing the end, specifically when they finally get to see the lanterns and light on of their own. Wanda leaned forward and kissed your neck, using her hand to direct your head up to the ceiling. She turned on the fairy lights that lined the ceiling. They’d been there since you were a teenager, but you never turned them on. Most days you forgot they were there. She turned them to a setting with a gentle twinkle.

You were so overcome with love, you flipped yourself around in her lap so you were straddling her legs and wrapping your arms loosely around her neck. You felt like your entire body was buzzing with electricity when she pulled you down by the back of your neck into a kiss. A real kiss this time, not just the pecks she was giving you earlier. You whimpered against her lips.

“Shh, angel,” she whispered against you, advising you to quiet down before she had to stop. You slipped your hands under the hem of her shirt, tugging on it in a silent request. “Sweetheart, we can’t…” she said sadly but firmly. There was no way she could fuck you while everyone else was still home, no matter how badly she wanted to.

“I know,” you assured. “I don’t want to. Just let me feel you. Please.”

She looked in your pleading eyes, now twinkling in the fairy lights. She sighed. She couldn’t deny you anything. She slipped the shirt off over her head, leaving her bare under you.

You smiled, lying down on top of her and rubbing your face against her soft exposed skin. She smiled down at you, affectionately wrapping her arms around you to rub your back.

“I love you, mama,” you said, nuzzling your face into her chest with the first genuine smile you’ve had all day.

“I love you too, baby,” she said, squeezing you into her and kissing the top of your head. She couldn’t fix everything for you, but, when you needed it most, she could give you your fairytale.

[ikalyyy]

♡︎ㅤㅤ! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָstray bunny pt. 02⋆⭒˚.⋆

Where Kang Saebyeok is chased by another girl after they were fired from the games.

𖹭.ᐟ Warnings: angst ; fluff ; no callback to the games ; fem! reader

Part two

Arriving at Saebyeok's small home was a small respite, you entered before Saebyeok even told you, you smiled happy to at least have a roof over your head.

"Woah, your home is beautiful, Byeokkie" you murmured happily, letting out a high pitched squeal that made her want to put earplugs in, but what really threw her off was the nickname.

"Don't ever call me that again in your miserable life" she growled in annoyance.

You pouted, ever since she told you her name just a few minutes ago, you had been racking your brains thinking of a good nickname for the cold girl.

"Okay, Byeokkie!" you jumped into the small kitchen, looking around.

"Now that I think about it, I have absolutely nothing to eat" she said but before she could say anything else, you came out -literally- from one of the low drawers in the kitchen, with a package of ramen in your hand.

"Tada~" you smiled happily and ran up to her, showing off your little accomplishment, but she seemed more confused by the fact that you had gotten into that small space to look for food.

"I guess we'll have to share" she sighed, she hated sharing her food, her space, absolutely everything, she was only shared with her little brother.

You both sat on the floor, opening the package and starting to eat it like that, as if they were cookies, because there was definitely no water and much less gas.

"It doesn't taste that bad if you imagine you're eating pizza" you murmured smiling, Saebyeok was starting to get uncomfortable seeing you smile 90% of the time.

"Byeokkie, where am I going to sleep?"

Before she could scold you again for calling her that, she remembered that she only had a small mattress, some blankets, a pillow and that's it, she didn't even have a couch.

"I don't know, kid, eat" she said, she would fix that later.

"Okay, Byeokkie!" You smiled and obediently went back to eating. “By the way, don’t call me ‘little girl’ I already told you my name” you mumbled, pursing your lips.

“Will you stop calling me ‘Byeokkie’?” she asked, looking at you, you shook your head in denial with a mischievous smile “Then I’ll keep calling you ‘little girl’, now shut up before I throw you out the window.”

You gulped, before quickly nodding.

After their grand feast, the two of you fell silent, Saebyeok walked over to a small corner cabinet, pulled out a short sleeved shirt and a pair of baggy pants, without saying anything he dropped them on your head.

“What?” you looked at the old clothes and then looked at Saebyeok “Do you want me to go throw them away?” you asked innocently, making Saebyeok glare at you.

“No, you idiot. It's for you to take off that stupid skirt and put on something comfortable to sleep in" she said before walking a few steps, she dropped onto the mattress under your gaze.

You quickly changed, your hands holding your pants so they wouldn't fall down.

Saebyeok took one of his blankets and dropped it in one of the corners of the room, pointing with his finger.

"Wait... I'm going to sleep there? You're treating me like a dog!" you whine, but walk over to where he dropped the blanket. "You suck at treating your guests."

"I never really invited you, I felt sorry for you. And no, I'm not treating you like a dog, you're more like a... a bunny" she said, there was something in her tone that was different, maybe less serious and more mocking.

"Ugh!" without being able to protest anymore, you settle down in the small corner, doing your best to get into the blanket and not touch the floor, but at the same time, covering yourself a little.

A few minutes passed, Saebyeok already had her pajamas on, she was lying on her back, her arms above her head, she was starting to fall asleep, but the little ball shaking in that corner, made her wake up.

"Idiot..." she muttered before standing up, she walked over to you and gave you a little kick "go to the mattress, I'll sleep here" she said reluctantly, you looked at her for a few seconds before running to the mattress and letting yourself fall.

Saebyeok took your place, the blanket barely covered his feet, he took a deep breath and turned around, looking at the wall, he was starting to close his eyes when he felt a warm presence behind her, she turned around just to see you, curled up and covered with a blanket, you were still shaking a little.

"Little girl, if you don't stop right now, I'm going to take the mattress and leave you here" she said, trying to sound threatening, but she couldn't help but think about how adorable you looked there next to her.

"Byeokkie..." again that stupid nickname that Saebyeok hated came out of your lips.

"Silly girl" she said before standing up, you thought she would keep her word and leave, but she took your arm and pulled you "if you kick me at night, you won't wake up" she said, both of you fell on the small mattress, covered themselves with the blankets and were so close that it was useless to turn your backs.

The night passed normally, until suddenly, Saebyeok felt something bury itself in her chest, she opened her eyes scared only to find a mat of soft hair.

"Damn girl" she muttered before resting his chin on your head and falling back to sleep.

I'm looking forward to seeing Saebyeok's development!!

Thanks for reading, and if you want mentions, I'll gladly add them!

ᥫ᭡ with lots of love and sugar, ika (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

[rememberwren]

Johnny in the chair in SD getting a tattoo for the first time from Simon…getting Simon’s hands on him…it was rapturous. No wonder he was being a goofy lil guy. He was skying.

[darth-does-stuff]

ok everybody saying dan fucks is conrad’s dad you do you but for ME personally the fix will always be conrad’s dad because dan gives cool uncle vibes 1000000% percent more than the fix ever will. but we will both live our truth and we will both be happy 🤝

[seventh-district]

sighs and collapses and disintegrates into the wind

[wanderinghedgehog]

Okay, so Javert is dead. Time to do a line-by-line commentary/analysis of Javert’s Suicide in the musical with some book comparisons. Yippee!

“Who is this man?

What sort of devil is he?”

I think this line would feel more appropriate right after Valjean frees him at the barricade. This will begin a trend of Javert’s suicide being very focused on Valjean here. Also, in the book, this is the chapter where Javert compares Valjean to an angel, so it’s interesting that he is called a devil here instead.

“To have me caught in a trap

And choose to let me go free?”

This was Valjean’s choice. He didn’t really have much to gain from freeing Javert. In fact, it’s potentially detrimental to him. This is an act that you can’t see for anything but what it is, kindness.

“It was his hour at last

To put a seal on my fate,”

Javert truly believes that Valjean could have killed him. For an audience who is aware of Valjean’s nature, it’s a bit strange to imagine.

“Wipe out the past,

And watch me clean off the slate.”

Valjean literally gives you his address so you can arrest him. I don’t think he’s looking to just get away.

“All it would take was a flick of his knife.

Vengeance was his and he gave me back my life!”

He’s not happy to not be killed. It kinda ruined his day :(

“Damned if I'll live in the debt of a thief”

I don’t know if the musical gives this context really, but I interpret this line as a rejection of his changed opinion of Valjean. At this point in the book, he’s started referring to Valjean more respectfully. But here, he denies any semblance of that.

“Damned if I'll yield at the end of the chase”

This deserves a quote from the book. “Enormities such as this can happen and nobody should be punished? Jean Valjean, stronger than the entire social order, should be free and he, Javert, continue to eat the bread of the government!”

“I am the Law and the Law is not mocked”

This line will be relevant again later.

“I'll spit his pity right back in his face”

The oddest thing about this is Javert is meant to be pitiful. The book literally describes him this way, but in a moment when he is very sure of himself, when he goes to arrest Valjean in M-sur-M. Javert is pitiful because he is horribly wrong and oblivious, not because he is helpless. Valjean helping him when he is in need of help is not the sort of pity you’d expect to be shown to a man like Javert.

“There is nothing on earth that we share”

On the one hand, are you sure about that? On the other hand, this really speaks to how Javert’s worldview allows for two types of people: superiors and inferiors. When Valjean is seen as a criminal, he is nothing like Javert because Javert couldn’t possibly have something in common with a convict. oBvIOusLy. But when Valjean has proven he’s a good man, he is nothing like Javert because he’s better.

“It is either Valjean or Javert!”

I told y’all the “I am the Law” thing would come back. This is Javert’s ultimatum that he’s given himself. He must choose between Valjean (the reality of humanity) and himself (the reality of the law). He doesn’t give himself the option to become something other than the law.

“How can I now allow this man

To hold dominion over me?”

The musical speaks much more of debt than the book. In the book, Javert doesn’t worry about the debt he owes Valjean for saving him because he’s already been repaid. Javert showed him mercy in turn.

“This desperate man that I have hunted”

I think this is an oddly sympathetic way for him to talk about Valjean.

“He gave me my life. He gave me freedom.”

The key word here is “gave.” There was no trade or deal as Javert had initially assumed.

“I should have perished by his hand”

He was too willing to die then. That’s not noble sacrifice, buddy. You just don’t value your own life very much.

“It was his right.”

It was also his right to not kill you.

“It was my right to die as well.”

Time for another book quote. “To have called the other insurgents to his aid against Jean Valjean, to have forced them to shoot him, that would have been better.”

“Instead I live -- but live in hell.”

Yeah, I bet suddenly having to think about things when you’ve gone the rest of your life with your mind as blank as printer paper isn’t exactly a fun time.

“And my thoughts fly apart.”

Same

“Can this man be believed?”

Javert in the musical is much more confused than Javert in the book. In fact, in the book, sudden clarity is arguably part of the issue.

“Shall his sins be forgiven?

Shall his crimes be reprieved?”

I will once again refer you to the line “nearer angels than men.”

“And must I now begin to doubt,

Who never doubted all those years?”

This is my favorite line in the song. It’s similar to my favorite line from this chapter in the book, “to be granite and to doubt.” Both lines really express the scale of this emotion so well.

“My heart is stone and still it trembles.”

This reminds me of a misconception I’ve seen a lot. For whatever reason, some people think that Javert intends to be emotionless. I think that referring to his heart as stone is not to say that he doesn’t feel, but that he is unshakeable. Hence the line “and still it trembles.”

“The world I have known is lost in shadow.”

Well, what exactly is the world he has known? That seems to be a difference between the musical and the book. I’m sure a lot of other people have explained that difference better than I could.

“Is he from heaven or from hell?”

And another quote. “…this monster, this infamous angel, this hideous hero, who made him almost as indignant as astounded.”

“And does he know

That, granting me my life today,

This man has killed me even so?”

I’ve found that this song has trouble really communicating why Javert would want to kill himself, but this line brings up a certain sentiment from the book that I think explains it pretty simply. While it can’t be said that Javert had only one reason for committing suicide, the book does say, “He felt that he was emptied, useless, broken off from his past life, destitute, dissolved. Authority was dead in him. He had no further reason for being.” He kinda thinks of himself as already dead.

“I am reaching but I fall”

Despite the fact that this song already had the same melody as Valjean’s Soliloquy as well as some similar lyrics, this is where I notice this parallel the most, at the moment when the two narratives really begin to differ. In Valjean’s Soliloquy, this verse is where he talks about the death of his former self and how this will allow him to start again. This verse is far more literal in Javert’s Suicide. He does not intend to start again and redeem himself.

“And the stars are black and cold”

Stars callback! Yippee!

“As I stare into the void”

Another line shared with Valjean. It’s really interesting to hear these shared lines sung so differently in the same show.

“Of a world that cannot hold”

I think I like this line for a similar reason as “and must I now begin to doubt.” I’d have trouble explaining it though.

“I'll escape now from that world”

Often, antagonists are given the chance to redeem themselves through death. Javert does not do this. He doesn’t ignore these revelations and be wrong knowingly, but he certainly doesn’t become a better person outside of his own head. By taking himself out of the equation, he has remained static, something he’s been doing his entire life.

“From the world of Jean Valjean.”

I’m not sure how I feel about this one. This isn’t Valjean’s world. Valjean just lives here.

“There is nowhere I can turn”

Not the line itself, but the music. Maybe the chaos of it does work well for the musical. I don’t know. But I always preferred the quiet of the scene in the book. You get so used to hearing his really noisy thoughts, but then he’s just some guy standing on a bridge in the middle of the night.

“There is no way to go on...”

I want a portrayal of this but that isn’t silly. This isn’t the line’s fault though. “There is no way to go on” had nothing to do with some of the goofy staging I’ve seen.

[binders-and-beanies]

Doin bad again folx

[underwhelmingalchemist]

Starting pride month with the pharmacy denying me my testosterone prescription until mid-June and my doctor saying she can't do anything about it because it's a controlled substance 🙃✌️

[pepprs]

the mortifying ordeal of today being a potluck day.

[dreamyberry]

/19.1.25

[exopelagic]

I’m almost done complaining abt supervisors I swear