#feels like no complete closure but i suppose that is how it often goes with breakups with one or both parties feeling like something was

[liefst]

it still bothers me how all the way at the end J would not / could not understand me. think about it almost every day. and i'm scared of running into him every time i go into the city :'(

[bloodyshadow1]

just some negatives and nitpicks about Scott Pilgrim takes off. The show is still great, but I need to get these out of my head to enjoy the show fully. It's just a me thing. Ignore if you're not interested, but if you're curious you're welcome to look under the read more

First off, I know the limits of what they had, they only had 8 eps, that's all they could do, but I'm still going to complain about somethings that couldn't really be changed in that regard.

I think the other members of Sex-bob-omb were underutilized. I completely understand why, but I feel liek they moved on from Scott's death really quickly and it would have been nice to see them team up with Ramona throughout the series instead of just the second half,

I think some of the evil ex's, at least Roxie and Lucas, were underutilized too. Roxie and Lucas were the only members of the league who I have sympathy for and they are the only ones that seem like they got real closure with her. I know Lucas shows up in the episode where he becomes Gideon/Gordon's bro, but Roxie disappears until the climax. I think the two of them should have stayed and maybe helped with Ramona's quest to find Scott as part of their stories. They just kinda get closure and go. Having them turn around and actively help Ramona is different than just moving on.

Which leads me to my next negative, we still don't really see the relationships between members of the league which I think is a shame. I get that they're not friends, barely even allies, but still, if you're going to reimagine the story, why not delve deeper into the relationships between the ex's. we know Lucas and Todd don't like each other since Lucas became an ex because Ramona left him for Todd, but that's it. Gideon and Lucas' bonding moments in the show were some of the best, and it would have been nice to see more interactions even if they're negative. They just kind of see Gideon get deposed by Matthew and then barely even interact. There's not any interaction in the comics either, I just think it's a waste

Even though it's set up for Ramona to get closure with her exes while investigating them for Scott's disappearance but she really doesn't. Gideon is deposed and moves on with Julie, Matthew took the rejection as well as you would expect but moves on by running the company he took from Gideon and finally becoming a theater star, Todd moves on from Ramona to obsessing over Wallace and is more depressed over getting dumped than he ever seemed to be with Ramona, and Scott comes back before she even investigates the brothers. I'm not sure if she even has a conversation with the brothers, they just move on because of future knowledge and that's it. I really liked how she was able to heal with Roxie and Lucas to the point of wanting more, while the others are just suspects if that and then she leaves them. and it just feels like a waste

Wallace... he just seemed to be a one note character in the series and that note is just about every mean gay man stereotype. He gets around, which isn't an issue since he's like that in the comic too, but his fling with Todd just seems unnecessarily mean and he doesn't communicate what it is until he dumps him. He's supposed to be snarky and sassy, but still a decent friend to Scott helping more often than not. In the anime, he's just mean and bitchy and it just felt unnecessary to me. Every one of Scott's friends moved on really quickly after his 'death' but Wallace felt more like Julie instead of himself.

Scott never really goes through the character development that he does in the comics. I have my criticisms about Scott as a character, but the one big important part of the series is him realizing he's a dick, that he's the hero in his own mind, and needs to grow up. He doesn't do that in the anime, sure he still fights and evil alternate version of himself, but he still doesn't really wake up to his own flaws, as much see the flaws in his future self. Which I can kind of get behind, but it still doesn't make much sense that he gets together with Ramona at the end.

this is the only one that I think is really controversial, but I still don't care about the relationship between Ramona and Scott. I understand that it's built into the DNA of the series and the franchise as a whole, but I still don't care.

Little nitpick to end on, but the sparks are a lazy way of writing and if they were in the original comic I would still feel the same way. They seem to be used as a signifiyer of true love, which is lazy writing in it's own way. Relationships are about growing and learning from and about each other. there's no reason to place such a significance on a first kiss. Yes I understand they're a metaphor for the spark you feel when you meet someone for the the first time, or kiss someone for the first time, but in real life that feeling will actually lead you astray and making it something concrete in universe just seems like weak writing to me.

I always seem to have more negatives to say about the shows I like than positives, but it's mostly because I think about the positives more while, the negatives are things that I kind of wish I could wish away or change for the better. Still, Scott Pilgrim takes off is awesome and again, highly recommend it

[firelxdykatara]

ppl love to forget that katara: 1. has her own taste, 2. developed around aang, he needed her for his development and vice versa, 3. ZUTARA IS SHIP BETWEEN AN OPPRESOR X OPPRESSED!!! Ignoring all of the development they had with their respective partners and the trauma Zuko caused Katara!!

In the infamous words of one Luke Skywalker: amazing. every word of what you just said was wrong.

It’s actually kind of ironic that you bring up Katara’s taste, since, throughout the show, we have examples of the guys she likes, to greater or lesser extents in canon--Jet (explicit romantic feelings on her part, word of god that jet was her first kiss--a kiss that would have been consensual, incidentally, something you should keep in mind for later) and Haru (she denies the crush, but that could just as easily have been because of the abomination he’d been growing on his lip rather than denying those feelings ever existed), both of whom have much more in common (in terms of both emotional and physical maturity, and physical appearance) with Zuko than either of them has with Aang.

Zuko’s book 3 hairstyle is almost exactly reminiscent of Jet’s, even, if not quite as floofy.

(This is probably in part because of Jet’s function as a foil of Zuko within the narrative, particularly given their book 2 encounters, which I think just further solidifies my point that, were it not for extenuating circumstances [like the fact that Zuko was introduced as an enemy and they had significant obstacles to hurdle before they could be friends], Zuko would have been exactly Katara’s type. Had they met under different circumstances, she could have been the girl he went on a date with in Ba Sing Se. Just something to think about.)

So, yes, we’ve established that Katara has her own taste. Her tastes seem to be boys with great hair who are taller than her, the same age or older, and of a similar maturity level.

Aang falls short (heh, short) on all counts. So it isn’t Katara’s taste in boys that led her to be interested in him. Hm!

Next, you claim that Katara ‘developed around Aang’--that she was necessary for his development, and that he was necessary for hers.

Let’s take a moment to examine that, shall we?

I will absolutely grant you that Katara was necessary for Aang’s development--only to a point, of course, but we’ll get to that later--but was he really necessary for Katara‘s growth? I suppose I could grant you this on a generous technicality--he did, after all, provide her with the means to finally leave the South Pole and find a waterbending master to teach her (although she wound up largely self-taught anyway). But that had nothing to do with his relationship to Katara and everything to do with the structure of the plot--Katara and Sokka find Aang (and he never would have gotten out of that iceberg without Katara’s own righteous anger, so even that leads back to her own power), and then they go on a quest to find teachers for the Chosen One and save the world.

The story could not have begun without first finding Aang and then providing means for the other main characters to travel with him (or, in Zuko’s case, chase him), but this has nothing at all to do with Aang’s relationship to Katara. Aang was not a mover in Katara’s developmental arc--if anything, he acted as an obstacle more often than not, his actions ranging from innocent but obnoxious (playing and flirting with girls rather than helping with chores like picking up vital supplies, leaving Katara to do all of the quite literal heavy lifting and keeping her stuck in the role of caretaker that she’d been thrust into following the death of her mother), to deliberate and harmful (hiding the map to Katara and Sokka’s father, a truly selfish action, regardless of his lack of malicious intent, and one for which he never actually apologized), to somewhere in between (”she didn’t really mean that” he says to the man refusing to train Katara because she’s a girl, when yes, she very much did mean that, and Aang was no help in finally getting the old codger to eat his words--Katara had to shove them down his throat her own damn self).

While Katara’s overall arc wasn’t exactly big and dynamic (like Zuko’s redemption arc), or in-your-face (like Sokka getting force-fed Respect Women Juice and his eventual growth into a tactician and leader), it was very much present and woven into her character--and Aang had almost no part in it. He provided her with the means to get to the North Pole, but left Katara alone to fight the patriarchy herself. He messed around while Katara took it on herself to do the chores and keep the Gaang alive, but he did almost nothing to decrease that burden so she could grow out of the caretaker role. (Contrary to popular shipper claims, Aang didn’t actually teach Katara to have fun. She already knew how to have fun. But she couldn’t indulge, because she had a responsibility to her family and her tribe, and later to her brother and Aang and Toph, and Aang goofing off and trying to get her to do the same only added to her burdens rather than subtracting from them.) He provided Katara with the necessary motive to learn to heal herself, but he certainly didn’t seem to learn from the experience of accidentally burning her, preferring instead to claim he was never going to firebend again, despite already knowing, at that point, that he was going to need to master fire along with the other elements to become a fully realized Avatar and defeat the Firelord.

He didn’t help Katara keep them alive during The Desert. (In fact, he ran off, leaving her to desperately try to keep Sokka and Toph from succumbing to the heat while worrying for his safety.) In The Painted Lady, Katara makes the decision to stall the Gaang and do what she can to help the Fire Nation villagers on her own--Aang agrees to help her when he finds out, but he wasn’t actually instrumental in her making that choice. The Puppetmaster was, again, Katara finding a master of her own, and having to deal with the fallout from that. And in The Southern Raiders, Aang was--perhaps unknowingly, if I’m being generous, because he is a child and could not reasonably be expected to fully understand the implications of what he was asking her to do or why it was impossible--actively impeding Katara’s development! She desperately needed closure, something he could not understand and actively belittled and dismissed. The only reason he relented in the end (but not without a condescending ‘I forgive you! Does that give you any ideas???’ parting shot lmao) was because Katara was planning to take Appa anyway, and letting her go (and hoping she’d just magically wind up doing things his way) was easier than trying to fight her on it.

While Aang’s existence was necessary for Katara to start down her own path, she needed neither his guidance nor his approval to follow it--and absolutely nothing would change about Katara’s arc if you removed their romantic relationship entirely.

Possibly because the only changes needed to do so would be to remove the two times Aang kissed Katara without her consent (which, hopefully, no one would actually miss), and the epilogue kiss (which was awkward and unnecessary to begin with, since ending the entire show on a romantic kiss as the final shot kind of missed the point of the story to begin with, but that’s another discussion). None of these kisses (which are the only moments in which Katara’s feelings for Aang are so much as addressed; do note that addressing them, or hinting that they needed to be, is not the same as saying she exhibited any sign of reciprocating them) altered anything about Katara’s behavior, her personal arc, or (and perhaps most critically) her relationship with Aang.

It’s that last point that is really damning, as far as ‘Katara obviously had feelings for Aang, she kissed him in the finale!’ goes. Because she didn’t ‘obviously’ have feelings for him. And the fact that he kissed her before the invasion and then she forgot about it (she literally had no idea what he was talking about during the play’s intermission until he reminded her that he’d kissed her) is pretty clear evidence that she didn’t actually have feelings for him. Not the kind he had for her.

I’ve been a teenage girl. I know what it’s like to be surprise!kissed by your crush. And I absolutely for a full fact know that I had not completely forgotten about that kiss three months later and had, in fact, spent most of my waking hours thinking about it and remembering it and trying to talk to him about it. Now, granted, I was not in the middle of a war, but even if I had been, I doubt I would have needed reminding about the fact that the boy I’ve supposedly been developing feelings for had kissed me and showed clearly that he had those feelings for me too.

At the very least, if Katara was harboring feelings that she was worried about approaching until after the war, her relationship dynamic with Aang should have shifted. But it didn’t. She acted the exact same way with him after the Day of Black Sun as she did before it--that is, as a mother figure and a caretaker, responsible for his wellbeing. (And it’s clear she never took him down off the pedestal she needed him to occupy, either--let it not be said that the unhealthy aspects of their relationship only went one way.)

And book 3 is, incidentally, where Katara went from being vital to Aang’s development to being detrimental to it--or, rather, Aang’s refusal to let go of his attachment to her (despite ostensibly having done as much at the end of book 2) was. Because despite having been told by, perhaps, the greatest authority left in the world on Air Nomad culture (even more than Aang, who had left his temple with a child’s understanding of his culture that was never able to mature because he got stuck in the ice berg while his people were wiped out) that he had to let go of his possessive attachment to this girl who never even expressed the possibility that she might harbor romantic feelings for him to begin with, after Azula killed him and Katara brought him back, he went right back into the mindset of Katara is mine, it’s just a matter of time.

And the narrative validated him for it.

Notice how, during Ember Island Players, Aang says the following (emphasis mine):

“We kissed at the invasion, and I thought we were gonna be together. But we’re not.”

First of all, if you go back and watch the scene, it’s clear it wasn’t a mutual kiss. Aang sprang a surprise kiss on Katara, which left her shocked and unhappy after he flew off. (The decision to have her looking away and frowning was a deliberate one on the part of Bryke, who wanted Katara’s feelings kept ambiguous. Heaven forbid you allow the animators to make it clear that this fourteen-year-old girl who was just kissed without her consent by someone she’d never once demonstrated romantic feelings toward might actually have some. Heaven forbid she have a little agency in her own romantic narrative. But whatever.)

Second, he says he thought they were gonna be together.

He thought.

He never once even asked Katara what she thought--or even how she felt. He just assumes. He assumes that if he kisses her, she’ll kiss him back and they’ll get together. He assumes that she must have feelings for him, even though her body language is closed off and she told him with her words that she did not want to talk or think about this right now, and kisses her regardless of those signals, upsetting her and leading her to storm off.

And the narrative rewards him, because despite the fact that they don’t have a single significant scene together after that second disastrous kiss, Katara just decides off-screen that she Does Love Him Really and walks onto the balcony to make out with him.

The upshot of all this being that, while Katara was indeed instrumental to a lot of Aang’s early growth and development, Aang was not necessary for her own arc, and their romantic relationship (such as it was) actively hampered Aang’s development in book 3, while removing it would change absolutely nothing for Katara (except saving her from some painfully embarrassing memories).

As far as your third point, I’m simply not going to get baited into explaining how reducing Zutara to an ‘oppressor/oppressed’ relationship is not only insulting to interracial couples irl (not to mention any other couple with a potentially unbalanced dynamic of societal power, since there are many more axis of oppression than just racial), but demeaning to Zuko and Katara, their personal arcs as well as their relationship development together.

However, I will point out that Zuko was not responsible for any of Katara’s trauma. She did not find violence and fighting in bending battles to be traumatic--in fact, she reveled in it. She enjoyed fighting against Zuko at multiple points (especially noticeable in their battle at the end of book 1), because she wanted to fight--she always had--and once she had the ability, she was ready to throw down with anyone who gave her the slightest reason. (Including, by the way, her own potential waterbending master.) Aang’s death at the end of book 2 was Azula’s doing, and while I think that contributed to Katara’s extreme reaction to Zuko joining the gaang, it was not something for which she actively blamed him, and it wasn’t something she believed would be repeated--she let him go off alone on a journey to find the original firebending masters with Aang well before she chose to forgive him. So she already trusted Zuko’s intentions and that Aang would be safe with him.

Finally, because this has gotten long enough already, I hope you now understand that Zuko and Katara getting together would not require ignoring any of their development with their canonical romantic partners. We’ve already established that Katara’s arc wouldn’t change in the slightest if all of Aang’s romantic advances were removed, and I haven’t even gotten into how Mai meant nothing in the grand scheme of Zuko’s development because I’m pretty sure that’s just self-evident. I mean, the video compilation put together by Nick showcasing Zuko’s journey throughout the series doesn’t include a single scene with Mai, though it does include several with Katara, and even Jin makes an appearance--because Katara, and even Jin, played key roles in Zuko’s personal journey, while his relationship with Mai happened entirely off-screen and her only real function was to showcase just how unhealthy trying to force himself back into the role of the Crown Prince was for him.

What development, exactly, is there between them to even ignore?

At any rate, I’ve gone on long enough--I hope you enjoy the fact that you activated my wordvomit trap card right when i was about to go to bed, anon, because I just spent two hours writing this instead. In case you’re interested in the TL;DR: at the end of the day, there was no meaningful, mutual development in Kataang’s romantic relationship, and those romantic feelings that did exist were largely one-sided and ultimately detrimental to Aang’s development in the final third of his overall arc. Meanwhile, Mai meant nothing to Zuko’s journey--rather like Aang’s romantic overtures, she could be removed from the show completely and nothing about his story would change--while Zuko and Katara were both vital to each other’s overall storylines, arcs and development. This, coupled with the fact that Zuko never actually traumatized Katara and, in fact, helped her achieve closure from the biggest source of her own trauma, means that Zuko and Katara have better and more believable build up that could potentially lead to a romantic relationship than either of them have with their canon romantic partners.

So no, anon, I didn’t forget anything--I think you may have, though. Perhaps a rewatch is in order? Make sure not to close your eyes for the back half of book 3 this time.

[absolutebl]

I started watching Addicted because you've mentioned it so many times and I TOLD MYSELF I wouldn't get invested since there is no ending. But boo boo the clown is now invested and has only two episodes left, and I know there will be no closure. I blame you.

But actually what I wanted to say was I think Addicted is really cool and unique because watching it truly feels like watching an old school teen drama from the early 2000s or even the 90's. Maybe it's just the lighting, or music, or old fashioned phone Bai Luo Yin has, but watching it makes me feel like when I was a kid catching glimpses of the shows my cousins used to watch, but you know gay and probably even more problematic. Honestly if you had told me this was a show from 2006 I wouldn't have blinked. It being made in 2016 feels wrong somehow.

I like where BL seems to be heading currently, at least Thai BL which I'm more acquainted with tbh. But there is something really fun and almost old school about early BL. And I mean old school in that it feels like old shows from the 2000s. Pete and Kao's relationship in Kiss Me Again specifically (which I suppose isn't very early bl since it's 2018) also feels very much like an old school enemies to friends to lovers teen drama, but also SOTUS captures that pretty well also I think. Sorry I guess this really isn't a question question, but I do wonder what your perspective on this is. Like do you think I'm completely talking out of my ass or not lol? I wonder how Chinese BL would have progressed had Addicted not caused the outright ban. I think there would have been less historic/fantasy BL, maybe they would have gone a similar route to Taiwan with gritty, often problematic BL, leaning into old school Yaoi tropes. Or maybe The Untamed was inevitable.

Sorry not sorry? I do try to warn everyone. Chinese BL always lagged a bit behind the other countries, conceptually, at least the contemporary stuff. Right up until they got censored. I mean I sometimes call this "reliance on classic yaoi tropes" but really it's just a touch old fashioned.

I mean some of the newer (non wuxia) bromance stuff like Precise Shot feels like it could have been made a decade ago. Censored or no.

Japan does this two. In their case, it's one of the reasons I like it. Take Given, it came out this year and had I watched it without knowing that, i might have sworn it came out in like 2013 or something. Except for the hair.

But I see what you mean in general about the dated feel of Addicted. Or perhaps that just a side effect of the rapid evolution we are currently under?

I mean, have you seen the original 2 Moons? It feels SO old fashion now, but in a very quintessentially Thai BL way. 

It’s amazing how fast the genre is moving. But it also means when a new BL goes up with an old (dated) trope or highly classic aesthetic (even though it’s less than a decade old) it can feel almost shocking to the modern audience. Keeps happening to the HIStory franchise. 

[ac3id]

Plaything | 18+ | part i

plaything 1/ ?? | part 0

pairings: yandere! bully bakugou katsuki x fem! reader

warnings: [series] blackmail, bullying, dubcon/ noncon, filming w/o consent, yandere themes, no quirks au. ALL CHARACTERS ARE ABOVE 18 YEARS OF AGE.

↪ for chapter 1: dubcon, blackmail, humiliation, masturbation, filming w/o consent, boot grinding, a little bit of bakusquad + reader....this is filthy :D 

summary: by luck you get enrolled into u.a high the best school in your town. the only catch is that the school is filled with rich, spoilt and powerful brats who just seem to hate you and among them, a certain red eyed blonde dreads you the most

↪ for chapter 1: you bump into bakugou by accident, dropping your vanilla ice cream all over him, you try to apologize and run away but wants more...oh wait why are his friends standing there recording everything too? 

wordcount. 4k+

a/n: sooooo, it’s finally out! huge thanks to @sawamooora for proof reading this! helped me out a lot <3 sorry for making u sit through that mess x[

 this scene was inspired by that one episode of boys over flowers where the mc’s best friend drops ice cream on the main guy’s shoe and he asks the mc to lick it off...obviously that didn’t happen in the show but it really got me thinking...... 

alsO the netflix show elite,,, i just saw it and knew,,,,

taglist: @mocha-focha​, @erenyeagersbasement​ , @haribo-pop, @sunshine-fangs​, @kuremis​, @amazing-fandoms​,

dm/ inbox/ comment to be added/ removed. 

—navigation

It was a great opportunity. Never in your life would you have thought you’d manage to land a scholarship at the prestigious U.A Private Academy. 

The school was a dream, the best in your city, and only affordable for the rich. Graduating from such a school could have helped you with life in so many different ways. Not only would it open doors you could never touch before, but it would help you to form connections which would make your life undoubtedly easier.

Graduating from U.A. was a blessing, but obviously, it did not come easy. It was rather unfortunate. After your previous school building had collapsed, due to some accident, the board announced its year-long closure.

At the time, you were beyond lost and understandably frustrated - it was your last year before college and you simply couldn't risk waiting the year out. The whole situation was nerve-wracking, looking for decent schools which would allow you in. 

Honestly, you had no idea what you would’ve done if U.A. hadn’t called you that night. 

It was the last day of the summer holidays, a week after your school building had collapsed. Luckily, no one was hurt - but the damage on the campus was severe. 

You had been talking to your friends when your mother rushed into your room with exciting news. Apparently, the chairman of U.A was feeling generous. He had decided to offer four excellent students from your school a scholarship to U.A. 

You were overjoyed being one of the students along with your two other friends; Shinso Hitoshi and Izuku Midoriya. 

At first, the thought was a little scary - going into a completely different world than you were accustomed to. The kids there would be much different than you, you didn't want to be the   laughing stock, you didn’t want to be their silly little entertainment... The thought made you nervous, but when your best friend, Izuku, called you the next night explaining how he also won the scholarship; followed by Shinso, you were relieved. 

Yes, you were stepping into a whole different world but you at least had your two friends with you. 

And that brought you to the first day of school. 

You stood outside the huge gates of the even enormous academy all alone shaking in your little, expensive skirt they forced you to wear as the uniform waiting for your friends. You promised the two boys you’d wait for them, and besides, you weren’t planning on entering the building all alone. 

Your friends, Shinso and Midoriya, lived close to each other. They were supposed to meet you at the gates of the school that morning, but they were running late. Your anxiety grew the longer you stayed there, with students filling the place- arriving in their fancy cars with their expensive bags and accessories. It easily made you feel out of place.

“Hey,” you heard someone before someone tapped on your shoulder. You quickly turned around to greet the voice. Staring back at you was Uraraka Ochaco.

You remembered she was in your school too, Midoriya has a huge crush on her. 

“Yes, Uraraka? Right?” You weren’t close to her, nothing but mere acquaintances. But seeing her face - right here, right now - it made your day. 

Uraraka was dressed in the same uniform as you, there was no doubt that she was one of the four kids who won the scholarship. Both of you talked while you implored her to wait for Midoriya and Shinso. You didn’t fail to notice the way her cheeks turned pink when you mentioned Midoriya. The two of them were so obvious. 

Your friends arrived, they were late, but they came. 

Apparently, there was an accident that forced them to stay back a little longer, but they managed to make it before the first bell. 

“I actually have an old friend who goes there now,” Midoriya confesses out of the blue as the four of you enter the gates. You look at him in awe. 

During the three years in high school that both of you had spent together, he had never mentioned any friend of his going to the U.A. academy ever. 

“Why did you never tell us?” Uraraka asks. 

“well, we’re not on good terms. He used to live in the same neighborhood before his parent’s business took off. He left after middle school.” Midoriya says, a slight frown forming on his face.

“Who is he?” Shinso asks. 

Midoriya pauses briefly before explaining his entire history with a temperamental and rude blonde. Bakugou Katsuki, he calls him. His childhood friend. But from what you managed to gather, Bakugou was anything but a friend to Midoriya. 

Bakugo was once just a simple boy, living a simple life, destined to do great things - but once his parent’s clothing line ‘Dynamite’ blew up and became mainstream, he started drowning in wealth. Bakugo moved out of his old neighborhood at the starting of high school before enrolling in U.A., just like all his rich friends.

“Maybe you should say hi,” Uraraka suggests. Midoriya’s expressions turned sheepish.

“About that…” he started. “I called him yesterday, got his number from mom, and-” he stopped. 

“What did he say?” Shinso asked.

“He told me to get lost and die,” Midoriya said with a slight frown on his face, looking down. 

That was your first impression of Katsuki Bakugou. For a man you had not even met, you sure loathed him. 

School went smoothly for a week, everything was going great. The four of you kept your profile low, didn’t talk until spoken to, kept your distance, and everything was okay. 

People often starred and whispered amongst each other when they saw you in the hallways, but that was about it. Everyone seemed to be decent but… there’s always a but. 

Everything took a turn for the worse when you managed to piss off the wrong person, Bakugo Katsuki himself. 

It was an honest mistake, not even that big of a deal - especially for his standards Yet, for some reason, Bakugo wanted to get under your skin. 

It happened after your lunch break, you were on your way back to your classroom with an ice-cream cone fasted tightly in your hands. You mindlessly dashed through the hallways, trying your best to get back to class as fast as possible - you don’t want to be late. It’d earn you a bad reputation. You don’t need that- you don't want anything which could jeopardize your scholarship. 

You walked straight and took a turn. Just by fate, you bumped into a stiff, hard chest making you wobble on your feet and sending your ice cream from your hand flying straight to the ground.

“Shit,” you cursed, looking down seeing what you had to work with. 

The ice-cream cone splattered on the floor, the white creamy liquid flushed all over the floor along with staining an expensive-looking, black leather boot. A snarl comes from above you along with a group of chuckles. More expensive shoes come into your line of view as you realize you’re not alone. 

You slowly bring your gaze up, ogling at who you just pissed off. 

Staring back at you is a furious blonde, glaring at you with such intensity that it makes your stomach drop. It’s the infamous Bakugou Katsuki, you don’t want to deal with him. 

-

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you don’t give him a chance to complain as you take your flight. Quickly, you try running away but a large hand grabs your forearm, stopping you dead in your tracks. 

You look to the side, deep red eyes stare right back at you. 

“Where are you running off to? Don’t you think you owe my friend here a proper apology?” Kirishima says, his grip on your arm growing tighter. He towers over you, his huge body trapping you with intimidation.

Going to U.A for over a week there’s a thing or two that you’ve learned about the rich, snobby brats who own the school. Not everyone is bad, a few of them are actually but the rest are just bad. 

Bakugou was the worst. From how Midoriya described him, you knew for a fact he’d be a horrible person. But hell, he managed to prove himself even worse. 

He was crude, mean, downright arrogant, and ignorant. Always screaming unasked opinions on top of his lungs, and gets mad whenever someone disagrees. He acts like the world revolves around him.

 Bakugo had a bunch of friends who he called his “followers” and they weren’t any better.

They just watched while Bakugou ruined everything, they were there to support him. 

Kirishima Eijirou the redhead, he was captain of the football team. He was a jock, brawns over brains kind of person. Girls cooed over him and his overly attractive, hot body. It looked as if he was sculpted by God himself. 

Next was Kaminari Denki. He was in the school band, dating the lead singer. And yet, he managed to find time to flirt with other girls. He was the goofball of the group, dumb and stupid But he always knew what he was doing. Even though it was barely noticeable, you could always see a devious glint in those amber eyes of his. 

Sero Hanta was famous for a lot of reasons. Most notably for having brought illegal drugs on the campus and skipping classes to go down to his junkie hangout spot to smoke weed. The man had no shame. Sometimes, he’d walk into the classrooms high as fuck. The teachers couldn’t do anything even if they tried, his parents practically owned the school; he owned the school. There was no going against the tall, lanky man who looked like he couldn’t even smash a bug. He held the most power and his friends sure knew how to abuse it. 

Last but not least was Mina Ashido. The one and only girl member of the self-proclaimed ‘bakusquad’. Sometimes, Jirou Kyouka, the lead singer of the school, would hang out with the boys and her boyfriend, but she wasn’t a permanent member. Mina was. 

In your opinion, Mina was a nightmare dressed like a daydream. With her short, pink hair and bright smile, she seemed like an angel. But she was the devil. Worse than even Bakugou, perhaps. 

She knew everything about everyone, she had leverage galore: screenshots ready to leak, videos ready to ruin lives. She had them all, and frankly- she scared you the most. 

Kirishima pushed you back, and Bakugo caught you by your shoulders. 

“That was fucking rude,” he growled, biting his fingers into your shoulder blades tight and hard making you squeal. “Are you fucking blind or something? Fucking extra.” 

“I said I’m sorry, let me go will you?” Even in such a terrifying situation, you try to remain calm.

“What do you think, Sero?” Kaminari began. Your heart sank, including Sero into anything was never a good sign. 

“She ruined Bakugou’s new shoes,” he continued. Bakugou’s hold on you tightened and you winced, turning back to him and returning his glare. 

“Okay, what do you want?” you give in, finally. A mischievous spark lights up in his crimson eyes as flashes a cocky smirk to his friends before turning back to you with a frown. He pushes you towards Mina and she catches you with an arm around your shoulder. 

“Those were expensive, right?” she looks at you and then back at Bakugou. He grunts, nodding. 

“Fuck yes, I’m pissed as hell. Some fucking extra managed to ruin it.” 

You look back down to steal a glance at his heavy, leather boot. The small, white stain melted away. 

“What will you do to make up for it?” Mina whispers your name and you cringe. They were teasing you. For their fun, they were making fun of you. 

“What can I do?” you say, sarcastically. Prying yourself away from her hold. The crowd goes dead silent before speaking. Sero is the first one to talk. 

“Lick it off.”

There’s a pause, no one speaks. Your stomach drops and your face pales at the look the five of them are giving you- it’s serious. Dead serious. 

Kaminari bursts out laughing followed by Sero and the others. The four of them get a great laugh but Bakugou stares at you head-on with his grave expressions burning through your soul. 

“Whatcha looking at? Do it,” he commands. 

The laughing dies down and Kaminari speaks, “are you serious? You want her to lick your shoe,” he can’t control his laughter, a chuckle breaks with every word. 

“Yes, I’m fucking serious. Besides, Sero recommended it,” he smirks. “Do you really want to say no to him? I don’t know so much about this but-“ he leans down close to your face, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, “it might complicate your scholarship.” 

There’s a twisted rhythm in his voice. He’s enjoying tormenting you. You still want to believe that they’re just messing around. That they’ll have their laughs and let you go, but the way Sero stares at you says otherwise. 

“You don’t wanna do it?” Bakugou asks. 

“Of course she doesn’t! That’s gross, oh my god.” Mina exclaims, earning a chuckle from the rest of the boys. 

“Hey, let’s hear it from Sero himself.” Kirishima pats Sero’s back, pushing him forward. The five of them have circled around you, coiling you inside their venomous nest with you in the center. You turn to Sero with pleading eyes, looking up at his huge form, begging. 

He smirks looking down at you, you look so tiny beneath bim. He wants to mess with you, even more, you look like a nice toy to him. He wants to play with it until he can’t. 

“I guess, I did say that-” your blood runs cold, heartbeat picking up in nervousness. “-but you don’t need to do it.” He finishes. Your face lights up while the others groan in disappointment. Bakugou looks livid. 

“Just know that, you’re the one who dropped the ice cream on Bakugou’s shoe and now you’re not even helping him out. That’s not very noble, is it? I don’t know if I even by mistake slipped that info back home- my parents might reconsider whether you truly deserve to be here or not. They don’t really like disrespectful kids who comprise the school’s name.” 

Sero ends his speech with a wide, ear-to-ear grin, followed by a pat to your head. 

“The choice is yours.”  

You pause for a moment and think. Where they were really going to make you do it, where they were really going to humiliate you like this. They were. But were you willing to do it? 

From Sero’s threat, you could tell he was serious, this was legit. 

It wouldn’t have been the first time the school expelled someone who had beef with Sero, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. They don’t care about anyone but their loving son. They wouldn’t even think once before expelling you.

“What’s your answer, princess?” Kirishima teases.

 Mina and Kaminari once again break into fits of laughter.

“What do you mean? She doesn’t have a choice here, kneel you extra.” Your heart hammers in your chest as Bakugou gestures you to kneel. You stop for a second, breathing unevenly- thinking. After a long, thoughtful sigh, you answer. 

“No, I am not going to do it.” Your voice is meek yet clear. Even though you’re trembling under the heavy gazes of five snakes, you choose to stand your ground. 

Bakugou glaring at you while the others boo. 

“Aw, c’mon you don’t mean that.” 

“Don’t be a little brat.” 

Bakugou stays silent while the others continue to throw insults at you -  calling you names and trying to make you regret your decision. You look straight forward into Bakugou’s cold, red eyes, searching for his next move. Your heart beats even harder in your chest with increased anxiety. After watching your torment for more than a few minutes, Bakugo decides he’s had enough of this game.

“Hey, shitty hair,” Bakugo starts. “Punch me.” 

“What?” Kirishima asks, vividly shaken. “Why do you want me to hit you, Bakubro?” 

“Punch me real hard, give me a black eye.” The confusion grows greater on everyone’s faces. You stare at him in awe, wondering what angle was trying to play. 

Kirishima raises his hands in defense. “Woah, dude slow down there. I’m not just going to punch you.” 

Bakugou clicks the roof of his tongue, letting out a sound of irritation. “You all are just dumb,” he starts.

“Imagine if this punny, little,” he leans down closer to you till his lips touch your ears and whispers your name with a crude chuckle. “Were to drop all her food over me, not apologize, punch and me then run away, that’d bring her into a whole world of trouble. Wouldn’t it?” 

Bakugo’s words are calculated and sly, he knows exactly what he’s getting at when he starts. His voice fills you up with dread as he makes his accusations public.

“She would be expelled on spot and Kacchan could also raise charges,” Kaminari adds. 

Your eyes widen in fear. 

“Yeah, I’ll fucking do that.” Mina giggles. “That would succck,” she cheers. Your lower lip quivers as you stare at them in disbelief, your eyes open wide only to be covered with fear. 

“Hey, c’mon, why are you doing this to me?” You feel them inch closer to you, their warmth leeching onto you the longer you stay surrounded by them. 

“Because you have no fucking manners.” Bakugou snarls. 

“Kiri, punch him. What are you waiting for? If you don’t wanna do it I will!” Kaminari cries, growing impatient. 

Kirishima laughs before he charges Bakugou. Your heart hammers in your chest. 

You think about your family, your future, and how disappointed everyone would be with you. Your dreams and aspirations, all were rooted in this school. 

It was honestly sad, pathetic even. Your entire future was just a joke to these spoiled kids. These kids who could control you, and everyone else,  with just a flick of their fingers. It’s unfortunate, but that’s the price to pay for a piece of the beautiful cake known as U.A... You resign yourself to your fate.

A piece of your mind. 

“N-no, don’t do that. I-I’ll do it,” you murmured, your voice timid and weak. The five paused looking at each other with an ominous glint in their eyes. Bakugou was the first to speak. 

“Well, then fucking get on with it. On your knees.” Obediently like a trained puppy, you got down onto your knees, not letting your eyes fall from Bakugou’s face. His red, fierce eyes barked at you with an unknown look, keeping you lost. 

“Holy shit, she’s actually doing this,” Mina squealed watching you lean forward, bringing your face next to Bakugou’s expensive boots.

“Kaminari, record this.” Sero taps at the energetic blonde, forcing him to take his phone out and hit ‘record’. As you lean further to the ground, your short skirt rides up behind you, giving the audience a clear view of your round ass and pastel panties. The sight brings a smile to Bakugou’s face as he scoffs. 

“Cute panties,” he remarks. 

You jerk, trying desperately to sit back, but Bakugo stops you. Smashing his other foot on top of your shoulder, he holds you there facing the ground.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” he growls.

You squirm, almost falling under his weight and as much you hate to admit it, a tingle of excitement runs down your spine. This was turning you on.

 A row of whistles flood in, the boys start teasing you and praising Bakugou. 

“Lick it off,”  he commands. 

You look down at his leather boot, the ice cream almost melted. There’s still a bright white spot of the sweet now liquid splayed out. Even though it’s not a lot, it still makes you cringe. You peek your shy, little tongue out timidly, forcing yourself to do the heinous deed. 

Bakugou watches you hesitate and pushes on your shoulder harder making you reach towards him. 

You give in after a final attempt, diving into his wishes. Your wet tongue touches the rough, cold leather. You cringe after a single touch, closing your eyes and scrunching your nose at the salty taste. “Clean it all off,” he commands.

You dive back in, this time letting your tongue glide across a larger portion. The humiliation burns through your body. It makes you uncomfortably hot, mostly from anger and but a little bit of arousal.

“Nice ass.” 

There it is. The excitement comes back the moment they start making suggestive comments, the attention riles you up and it’s horrible. 

“Kaminari are you even supposed to be here? Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Mina asks at the blonde pervert who was currently zooming on your ass. 

“Oh? We’re cool as long as I don’t stick my dick her,” he points to you. “That’s hella fucking tempting but I’m in love, dude.” He chuckles to himself, thinking about his girlfriend. 

They treat you like an object, talking about you like you were some sort of a toy. 

“Bet her pussy is tight,” Sero says. 

Kirishima turns to Bakugou, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Yo, Bakubro, can we touch her?” 

Bakugou looks on from watching you lick his boot and turns to Kirishima. A dark, unsettling gaze falls across his eyes as he speaks, “No. This one is mine.” he stares down at you. 

You stop lapping on his shoe and stand back on your knees, buckling your knees you try to get up but Bakugou harshly kicks your shoulder, throwing you back and making you cry. 

“Why did you do that?” you squeal, holding onto your bruised shoulder, glaring at him intently. 

The rest of the group goes quiet at the display of Bakugou’s sudden violence. 

He stands between your thighs, lazily resting his foot atop of your soft thighs. 

“You’re fucking pathetic, you know that?” the angle you were spread out in had your skirt flipped over hips, displaying your pretty, pastel panties to everyone in the room. 

Even though it’s subtle, masked by everyone’s fear of what Bakugou was planning, you still feel everyone’s gaze focused right on you and more specifically at your clothed cunt. Bakugou presses hard on your thigh making you cry. 

“Useless Deku’s friends are just like him. The fucking second you walked in here, I knew you were just another useless insect for me to stomp on.” He pauses, smirking, pressing his foot onto you even harder, twisting his ankle to increase the burning sting surging across your right thigh. “And I’m doing just that.” 

He steps off you for a moment, letting you catch your breath and recover from the burn. His eyesight travels lower down to your panties. He admires the cute pair you had on. Normally when he’d see girls naked, they’d dress themselves up the most luxurious to match his standards. But that’s not you, that could never be you. 

He rejoices at the thought of seeing your flushed, tear-stained face breaking down under him. You’ll never be like those girls, always a step behind. He can build you up and break you however he likes, you’d have no say in it. 

The power trip drives him crazy. 

He presses the tip of his boot over your clothed clothed cunt, pushing the hard material right over your sensitive clit. 

You gasp at the feeling, looking up at him with terrified eyes. He smirks down at you, moving his foot in a steady rhythm, rubbing the fabric of your cotton panties against your little pearl. 

“This turning you on? What a freak.” The rest of his group basks in shock. They watch intently as the scene spiraled out for them, too captivated to make any comments. They just keep quiet and stare. 

The way you squirm under Bakugou as he plays with your cute clit so unforgivingly makes them hot with excitement. Kaminari feels a little guilty but he blames it on his nature as a man.

Sero feels a little bad for you, they all do. But then again they wouldn’t waste the opportunity to be in Bakugou’s footsteps- literally. 

“You’re a little slut, you know that?” Bakugou sneers. 

Your gasps turn into whimpers as his simulation becomes harder. You clench your fists, desperately wishing it to be over. Tears brim in your eyes at the sheer humiliation of your corrupted form. This was just too much, too much for you to handle. 

“Please, stop,” you beg, knowing he wouldn't listen. “I’ll report you,” you cry.  A roar of laughter starts, shutting you up. 

“Go for it, you do that.” Mina comments. Kaminari walks closer to you, bringing the camera down to your face recording your horrified expressions. 

“We’ll just go ahead and post this online.” he threatens. 

A drop of tear falls down your waterline following a waterfall. You cry, leave all of your dignity behind and cry. You beg them to stop but as your pleas mix with your moans, it’s hard for anyone to understand what you’re saying. It’s not like they don’t know what you’re asking them for, they just turn deaf, simply because they can. 

Bakugou stops, he takes a step back, leaving you alone. You let out the tiniest cry when he leaves, ditching you just when you need his touch the most. 

“Feels like I’m doing too much of the work, if you want it so bad, do this yourself.” He says. Your body still burns with desire, your clit still hard and cunt salivating, you are nowhere close to being done... 

It’s as if something takes over and you are possessed by the dire need to cum, you do exactly as he says. 

You snake your fingers down your panties, deliberately rubbing on your swollen little clit before pushing your finger into your drenched cunt. You cry out as you clench around your finger, the pleasure becoming unbearable. Your legs shake and you close your eyes shut. 

You stay there on the floor, fingering yourself in the corridor, without any shame, while Kaminari records all of it. 

“She’s gonna give me a hard-on,” Kirishima says and you moan.

“She really is a slut, huh?” Sero comments. 

“She’s cute,” Mina adds with a smile. 

Bakugou scoffs, “does Deku know how much of a whore you are?” He asks. 

You don’t pay any attention to what he says, too busy bringing yourself to your climax.

“You’re getting all this right?” Mina looks over Kaminari’s shoulder and onto the phone screen which captures you beautifully losing yourself for everyone to see. 

“You close?” Bakugou asks as you feel yourself clench around fingers tightly, he bends down on his and pulls your panties down your hips, admiring your precious cunt. 

“Cute pussy,” he remarks before flicking your sensitive, hardened clit.

A rush of pleasure washes down your body as you cry while cumming. Bakugou pushes you right over the edge, a nasty grin screaming atop his face as he watches you. You curse at yourself for letting him see you like this, but there’s not much you can do but cry while you feel your juices gush around you before sliding down your thighs and onto the dirty floor. 

It takes a second for you to calm down and when you do come to your senses, dread fills you up. Tears shamelessly fall down your face as you realize what you just did. The others laugh at you, without feeling any remorse. 

Bakugou continues to stare at you with an unsettling look, while the others discuss the heinous crime you’ve just committed. 

Sero looks down at you and you catch his dark eyes staring at you. A toothy grin scavenges his face as he speaks. 

“Awesome,” he says as if he just finished some mediocre movie. 

Finally, you find the courage to get up and run. 

This was totally not awesome. 

[bookofmirth]

ok so this might come off as a bit rambly so please bear with me lol

i've noticed that the acotar fandom has this incessant need to be right when it comes to canon and it really sucks out the funness of fandom. shipping is supposed to be fun but when it comes to this fandom, it's almost like a competition to see who will be more right when the books come out. engaging with theories/predictions about characters and the plot is supposed to be exciting but when it comes to this fandom, some of the theories/predictions are problematic at worst and nonsensical at best. like how can you say with your full chest that you're so confident about where the series is heading in the future because of this or that theory when you're stuck in the past and refuse to see what all of the text is telling you in the present. it doesn't make sense. the selective reading is so strong that it has me looking sideways sometimes lol

i guess my question is why do you think the fandom is so divided when it comes to ships right now? i've seen people say this wasn't the case for feysand and nessian, so what's the difference here?

Oh boy Brielle, I have some thoughts on this. It's complex.

To be clear, I am not saying that this applies to literally every single person who ships a certain way. This is a commentary on the fandom as a whole, and there are always exceptions.

This got really, really long, so I'm putting it under the cut.

I think that one of the main draws of this series, and of sjm's writing in general, is her ships. I think that people get very, very attached to their ships.

I also think that sjm does NOT fully think through some of the choices that she makes when writing. See: the way that she takes from all these different cultures and mashes them together, which could be seen as disrespectful of their origin. She has retconned things, like Mor being queer and Lucien being Helion's son. I think that she thoroughly thinks about some of the aspects of her books, like Rhys's reaction to sleeping with Feyre for the first time, but then really half-asses other aspects of her books, like Mor coming out.

Then, we have your good old misogyny and homophobia - people in the fandom don't like Mor because she hurt the poor bat boy's feelings when she didn't sleep with him, and they don't have a mating bond, but she's never really told Azriel "no", and so every single moment of pain that Azriel has felt in 500 years is Morrigan's fault. And Mor's experience as a closeted queer woman who feels unsafe around the people she should trust the most is completely disregarded by the fandom.

Finally, I think that a combination of these factors has created the monster we know as e*riel, and that the fandom is perpetuating its own mythology.

What all of this comes down to, and the real reason I think that the fandom is behaving this way right now, is that e*riel is dead. It's never happened, it's not going to happen, but because we don't have the clear closure we got with moriel (where people would be accused of homophobia for continuing to ship it), people are still trying to figure out any possible way for e*riel to become canon, though every single sign points to it being a non-issue.

This weird thing where people have to be "right" all the time, and the way that "right" = "canon" is a relatively new development. It's as if everyone in this fandom forgot that they are in fact in a fandom, which inherently diverges from canon.

However, I think that the need to cling to canon is because the alternative would be to admit defeat and say "well, even if it doesn't happen I will still ship e*riel, it's fine, I will live with that." But they don't want to do that. In response, they look at canon so hard that they are reading the white space between the letters to create their theories, which as you noted as largely nonsensical and often fail to take into account who the characters are as individuals, how they are connected to other characters, and why it would or wouldn't be appropriate for them to be involved in various plots.

People could say, as eluciens having been saying since day one, "I really ship this thing but I can see that it might not become canon". But they don't say that. They literally refuse to see any other possibility than e*riel becoming canon.

You pointed out that people are stuck in the past - absolutely. The number of reimaginings I have seen of scenes where either Azriel or Elain has literally zero to do with the scene, but people try to shove one or both of them in there. And this from books ago. People are stuck on the Truthteller scene, and refuse to acknowledge that neither of them have acted on their feelings, whatever those might be, for years. And they ignore the fact that once Elain and Az do act, it goes horribly wrong.

Here are the facts as of right now:

ACOSF is the most recent book. In that book, sans extra chapter, those two had no interaction other than looking at one another.

If we include his POV, then he said it was wrong, we got confirmation that nothing has ever happened between them, she returned his necklace. Elain was aroused, but that does not mean she was ready to even have sex. "Yes" to a kiss is not "yes" to every single sexual act Az can think of. They parted on awkward, bad terms after a scene in which it seemed like they were about to start something. Yikes. Unlike Wings and Embers, they did not end that chapter still thinking of one another. After they part ways, the omniscient narrator does not mention Elain, or Az thinking about Elain, again.

His POV occurs months before the end of the book. They do not interact after that.

Elain has a mate she has not rejected, nor accepted.

So anyway, your question was why are people like this. lol. I think the fandom created a monster, and that monster is clinging to life. It can't accept the idea of morphing into a non-canon ship, though it never was canon in the first place. It had just convinced itself that it was.

There are other aspects to this, that have to do with gwynriel and elucien.

Gwynriel is a new ship, it's almost guaranteed to happen, people are super excited to ship it and give Gwyn all their love. I'm sure they would rather create content for that ship than argue about whether or not it's going to be canon, but they are in constant defense mode. Some people honestly didn't like e*riel before because they don't like Elain, or because they don't like Azriel, and those are valid reasons for not liking it. Why people ship gwynriel doesn't matter. The tone of the discussion is, unfortunately, being shaped elsewhere, which I will mention below.

Elucien is an old ship, older than e*riel. I can speak from this perspective - personally, I have been holding my tongue for 4.5 years. I have been letting people live, and just talking about the things I like. Then when acosf came out, it was like I could finally say all the things I had been thinking about Azriel, because I now had proof that the things I thought about his character (and because of that, about e*riel) now had solid canon foundation. This is 4.5 years of me holding in a lot of shit and finally being able to say it. Sometimes yes, I might take joy in having been right.

I think that a few people are clinging to canon, and that sets the tone for the discourse in the fandom. Someone says "according to page whatever, blah blah blah" and people feel the need to respond, and then it turns into and "I'm right" contest instead of... a fandom... A lot of us like debating. To me, it's fun. But when Person A starts a conversation that's about canon and it actually ignores canon, it's hard to let that conversation go by and just keep creating whatever we want to create. Instead, we respond, and so the tone of the conversation is shaped by what Person A decided to say.

I also think that there is a lack of distinction between theories (what will happen in the future) and meta (analysis of what we have now).

There is also a lack of "I" statements. Opinions are being stated as fact.

idk if there is a way to make it better, other than to just go back to ignoring one another. This whole situation makes me want to throw out every single canon ship I like and create exclusively non-canon content, just for spite. Except I really like doing meta, and so I don't want to. I guess for my point, I'll just keep doing meta, keep creating different content, and keep reminding people that they aren't here to continue perpetuating canon, but to play with it.

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding Part Three: SW Time Travel AU #27

Part One

Part Two

Obi Wan woke with a dry mouth and a moderate headache. A fairly typical morning these days. 

He peered around his bedroom in the temple confused. Wasn’t he just with Cody? Shouldn’t he be on the Negotiator? No wait, the war was over, Cody tried to kill him, and the Negotiator was a part of the Imperial Armada, of course he wouldn’t be there. He closed his eyes, snuggling back under the covers. Before he could drift back to sleep, his sluggish mind processed that last thought. 

He BOLTED upright in bed. The temple had been razed, his personal chambers scorched with particular thoroughness. Just being on Coruscant was an automatic death sentence. Faint tendrils of panic began to curl around his throat before he remembered his decision to give Spice a try. He had reasoned that he should probably find at least one pleasure in his new life, instead of focusing incessantly on what was lost. 

So what if he lost a few brain cells? Good riddance. 

Obi-Wan had been a bit nervous, but this had ended up being his best decision in years. His goodbye to Cody had been painful, but deeply cathartic. Spice Hallucination Anakin didn’t scream like Nightmare Anakin, and the color of his eyes was perfect. Far better final memories to cling to than reality- a reminder of the good times. Comforted, he relaxed backwards in bed, pulling his blankets back around him.

He LURCHED out of bed, covers tossed aside, movement a blur.

He was still hallucinating?!? Spice shouldn’t last in the system this long! He might’ve been uncertain about whether he was supposed to smoke or snort the substance but it was a well known fact that its exhaustive but rapid passage through the body was half what made it so addictive. If nothing else, his well-restedness and thirst indicated it had been at least six hours. He looked frantically around the room, searching for some thread of unreality to pull at.

This...was not good. Hadn’t the subconscious manifestations of his friends mentioned drugs that interacted poorly with force users last night? He had dismissed it at the time but...

He clearly was stuck in some sort of drugged fantasy combined with force-enhanced memory recall. Kriff, he had to wake up in the real world before he died of an aneurysm. Or just dehydration.

He sat on the ‘temple floor’ to meditate. This could be tricky as he couldn’t risk lowering his outer shields to reach out to reality. It would be deeply embarrassing as well as horrifying if the Emperor managed to find him and, by extension, Luke because he got stuck in a bad spice trip.

The door to his room clicked open quietly. 

“Oh! You’re awake. Sorry to come in without knocking, Master. I wanted to let you sleep, but I’ve been checking on you every two hours to make sure you were still, you know, breathing. You were...pretty out of it last night and I would be a pretty bad ‘best friend in the whole galaxy’ if I let you choke on your own vomit, right?” His blue-eyed Padawan explained with a grin.

Obi-Wan just stared. Oh this- this hurt. It was easier last night, when the whole fantasy had a kind of drunken blurriness. Sleeping and waking had brought sober clarity to the dream world. He could see the bags under Anakin’s eyes as well as the sheepish slouch of his shoulders as he instinctively ducked at the door frame. It was just so real.

“Obi-Wan? Are you feeling ok? Do you still feel drunk?” Anakin asked concerned.

Obi-Wan shook his head. He hesitated, before deciding to just go along with the interaction. He didn’t want to risk his subconscious throwing a less idylic scene at him by pretending to ignore this one. And besides, last night had been, all totaled, a huge relief- an unburdening of things left unsaid. This was probably the closest thing to therapy available to him these days, he might as well take advantage.

“I’m just...processing. Not to mention dealing with some mild dehydration.” He finally answered.

“Processing, huh? So does that mean you, uh, remember last night?” Anakin asked nervously.

“I do.” Obi-Wan smiled gently. As heart-wrenching as this was, it was also adorably sweet. Maybe it was worth it to push off waking for a little while. He could get some closure, maybe even work through some of the past to see where the two of them had gone wrong. It might even be helpful for Luke! Force willing, he would probably end up training Anakin’s son someday.

(the boy wouldn’t have many masters to choose from)

If this dream world could help him figure out specifically how he had failed as a Master, then he owed it to the galaxy to see it through. Satisfied, he resolved to let the fantasy play out. At least for a few more more hours. And...he had missed what Anakin had said. Wonderful start.

“I’m very sorry, Anakin would you mind repeating that? I was still a little distracted, but I promise, I’m focused on you now.”

Anakin shuffled nervously. “It’s nothing.”

Obi-Wan tried to project reassurance without actually projecting. “Please Anakin, I’d like to hear what you have to say. I know I wasn’t the most observant or approachable Master, and I’m sorry for that. But I have always cared about your thoughts and feelings.” It was a struggle and the words caught in his throat, but the raw burn of the apology was cleansing in an almost addictive way.

Anakin flushed. “Did you mean everything you said?” he asked nervously.

“I’d...rather not talk about seeing the destruction of the temple, seeing you... Maybe later...but please, I just don’t want to focus on it while I’m sitting here, looking at you,” Obi-Wan said quietly.

“That actually wasn’t what I was talking about,” Anakin responded quickly. “I mean, I do want to help you with that at some point, but I get not wanting to talk about visions, even if you should probably should. Of course if you do want to talk about that stuff, that’s more important, but since you don’t we can talk about the other stuff you mentioned. I was more referring to, you know, us, and what you said about our friendship?” his voice got progressively higher the longer he rambled. 

Obi-Wan thought back. “Well some of it is a little hazy, but overall yes. I...for a very long time I’ve considered you my best friend, and its not so easy for me to let go of my affections. I miss spending time with you; there are times I turn to say something and am still shocked you’re not there. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, with real words, how much I cared. I’m sorry I didn’t hug you as much as I wanted, looking back that was a nonsensical Jedi custom. It’s not in the code; it’s just an affectation of dignity. All things considered, the fact that you often snuck out to see Padme doesn’t really bother me.” He paused. “Was that everything?”

“Oh. Yeah, that pretty much covered everything.” Anakin looked embarrassed, but happy. “I wasn’t sure if you were just saying that stuff because you were drugged, or really drunk or something.”

“No, I meant what I said. I suppose it just took an altered state for me to relax enough to actually say it instead of just thinking at you and assuming you would know. I must admit, its difficult for me to maintain this emotional honesty without feeling drunk, but it’s good. This is good.”

“Ah, that’s... wow. So you weren’t drugged? Cody was concerned you seemed to off for much you actually drank.”

Obi-Wan frowned. Hadn’t that been a trip? Vision blurring from desert hovel to some nameless Catina he once visited with Cody. The continuity since then was almost unsettling. But, then again, Obi-Wan always did have a remarkable talent for self-delusion, didn’t he. He waved away the concerns.

“My substance consumption was entirely deliberate and exactly what I needed. There might have been some unknown additions with some unforeseen after-affects, but like I said- I’m not drunk. I’m clear minded and in full control right now and I knowingly accept the current fallout from whatever I took. I could meditate and force purge to completely recenter, but I think it would be far wiser to just see where this goes. Do you disagree, Anakin?”

Anakin grinned widely. “Whatever you say, Obi-Wan. Just remember this is your idea. Also, I’m taking you to the healers tonight if you’re not completely back to yourself.”

Obi-Wan signed, “If I’m not back to myself in 12 hours, than I fully agree that’s a problem worthy of the halls of healing.”

“Right,” Anakin nodded decisively, “I’ll go get you some water then comm Cody to tell him you’re still alive.

Obi-Wan smiled weakly in response. This wasn’t just a hashed up memory; the responsiveness was more that. He quickly got dressed, hands lingering over soft fabrics and sand-free linens.

Anakin dropped off a cup of water; Obi-Wan sipped at it hesitantly. Dear force, this was dangerously vivid. It actually felt like a relief in his parched mouth. Clearly his subconscious was pulling out all the stops to trap him in this soft delusion. He would have to deal with the thirst and hunger until he woke up- it was probably the firmest link he had to his real body.

He took one last look around before rushing out of his room, eager to take advantage of the time.

Anakin looked nervously up from the comm when Obi-Wan started pulling his boots on. “You’re not going out in the temple like this, are you?”

“Of course! I want to visit the gardens and the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Not to mention spend some time with a few of the other Jedi. You might still be the dearest being in my heart, but there were other Jedi that I care for, and dammit I’m going to tell them that.” He finally finished lacing up his left leg and moved to the right.

Anakin was dumbstruck, presumably as burnt by the ‘dearest being’ comment as Obi-Wan was. Then he rallied, “Wow, wow, No. You are not running around the temple drugged so you can, I don’t know, give Mace Windu a hug. I thought when you said you were going to ‘deal with the fallout' from whatever the kriff you’re still on, you meant you were going to lounge around the quarters all day!”

His former padawan physically blocked the door when Obi-Wan started to leave, sounding vaguely hysterical, “You can’t run around loopy! You’re a High Council Member!”

“Not anymore,” Obi-Wan replied bitterly. 

“What do you mean not anymore,” Anakin said fiercely, grabbing on to his shoulders . “Did they kick you out? Is that why you’re acting crazy? Did you resign?”

Obi-Wan responded by pulling Anakin into a hug, which was immediately returned, “Of course not, don’t be absurd. Fine, I suppose I’m technically still a high council member, it just seems like a bit of a moot point.”

“What the kark does that mean? You used to dream about being on the council! You’re the wisest Master in any of those stupid chairs!”

‘Master of the High Council’ Kenobi just sighed heavily in response. He maneuvered around the confused errant Knight and into the hall. 

"Obi-Wan wait! At least eat something first! Or let me put my shoes on!”

“Very well, you have one minute to make yourself presentable. I only have a few hours before I’m going to need to get back to reality, and the longer I linger the more I fear extreme measures may be necessary.”

“What does that mean?” Anakin shouted from inside. “Extreme measures sounds really ominous, you know.”

“I’d rather not get into it, alright? Let’s just enjoy the here-and-now, eh, ad’ika?

Anakin crashed out the door with less than a second to spare. “What did you just call me?"

“Ad’ika,” Obi-Wan answered, striding down the hallway in the direction of the hanging gardens. “Surely you must have picked up some Mando’a from the troopers?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t sure if I heard you right, bu- um- ori'vod,” Anakin fumbled out. “Uh, you’re not going to call me that in front of anyone else, right? You do remember that the council already gives us the side eye for over-attachment right?”

Obi-Wan hummed thought fully in responded. “There are far worse things a Jedi could do than admit to affection they already feel. Maybe if I had been honest about my attachments, they wouldn’t have ended the way that...” he trailed off quietly.

“The way that what,” Anakin asked frustrated. “You’re really giving me some emotional whiplash over here, and I’m starting to think that putting off dragging you to the healers is a stupid idea.

“There are far stupider things a Jedi could do,” he responded cheerily. “Oh look, there’s Plo Koon. MASTER KOON!” He shouted, startling the Kel Doran Jedi.

“Yes, Master Kenobi?” He replied slightly concerned as the two human Jedi came jogging over.

“I just wanted to say that I consider my former padawan my family. I raised him, I care for him deeply, and I don’t want to let go of those feelings.”

Plo Koon nodded seriously in response. “I feel just the same about my former padawans, and the Wolffe pack, of course. Denying my attachments isn’t, personally, a practical way to handle them. I’d rather honestly live as an imperfect Jedi than pretend to be a perfect example of the code. If I must have some imbalance, I’d rather it be an excess of compassion than a dearth,” he replied earnestly.

“I always admired that about you,” Obi-Wan replied ruefully. “This might be a little odd, but could I have a hug? I hold you in the highest regard and I’ve realized that there are so many Jedi that I never directly expressed my affection for and...”

Plo Koon didn’t wait for Obi-Wan to finish before wrapping his arms around him. “Of course, dear boy. You’ve had such heavy burdens placed on your shoulders during your life, especially in the last few years; it saddens me to see how deeply they’ve weighed you down. If there’s anything I can do to help, in any way, you simply have to ask.”

Obi-Wan sniffled slightly into Plo’s Shoulder while Plo rubbed soothing circles over his back.

A few passing Jedi gave the embracing Masters uncomfortable looks before hurrying on their way. Anakin stood slack-jawed.

When they finally pulled back, Plo Koon hesitated before finally asking, “I don’t mean to pry, but what brought all this on? I can sense much grief from you, even through your impressive shields.”

“It’s a long story,” Obi-Wan replied, wiping at the corner of his eyes. “I’d rather not get into it.”

“He’s high,” Anakin offered bluntly. “He took something last night and won’t go to medical wing.”

“Ah,” Plo said. “Is that true?”

Obi-Wan looked a little embarrassed. “I have the situation under control. My connection with reality might be...slightly altered right now, but my emotions, and what I chose to do with them are my own. I’m just, taking advantage of a unique opportunity to express myself.”

Plo Koon seemed to scrutinize him intensely, “If you’re sure this is what you need, than I support you. Just don’t do anything too foolish.” he finally offered.

Obi-Wan beamed. “I appreciate you saying so, I thought you would be supportive. Farewell, Master Koon”

Obi-Wan offered a respectful bow and then turned to walk away briskly. Before Anakin could follow, Plo rested a claw on his arm. 

“Feel free to comm me if his behavior reaches a point where you think he truly needs a healer. I’m happy to help you drag him there if need be. A little cathartic release isn’t in of itself such a bad thing, but if he starts acting too out of control...”

Anakin nodded in acknowledgment, then ran off to see who else Obi-Wan had chosen to throw himself at.

Part Four

[seoracle]

DRIVERS LICENSE; i

Pairing: Bang Chan x Idol! Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Fake Dating! AU, Angst, Lovers to Enemies(?), Occasional Pining, Comedy, S for potential smut(??)

Summary: Y/N has become an overnight sensation with ‘Drivers License’, Breaking records left and right...But what if the press gets wind of the ill-matched lovers and their company decide it’s the perfect attention ploy?

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Swearing (a lot near the end), Drinking mention

A/N: this was meant to be a drabble... now it’s becoming a series...i’m sorry

“...and the winner of Inkigayo today is...Y/N with ‘Drivers License, Congratulations!”

You step towards the center of the stage and take the trophy and bouquet from a rookie idol, who flashes a bright smile at you, but you can see the envy in his eyes. You once had that same hunger and ambition that he seems to reek of, it’s a reminder of how far you’ve come.

Taking the mic, you begin to sing a more sultry and edgier vibe than usual, which seems to gather more screams from fans than usual. You remember what Seulgi taught you and gaze at the camera lens with a subtle pout, trying to capture the angst of the song in your gaze.

It feels ridiculous, feigning emotions you no longer feel, singing a song you begged the company not to put out in a corset fitted shirt that’ll leave your ribs sore and reddened. It’s pathetic and cliche, you quite literally sold your soul (well, heart) for fame. 

“Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street…”

Everyone behind you waves at the camera, signalling the show is ending. You leave last, taking several confetti bits for your scrapbook, which is the only thing keeping you from remembering this is all real. 

Backstage, Iris and San are waiting in your dressing room, they greet you with proud grins and slaps on the back. 

“Well, if it isn’t miss twelve...no, thirteen wins in two weeks.” San praises, enveloping you in a hug.

“Could be thirteen by tomorrow~” Hums Iris in a sing-song tone.

A groan leaves your lips, while slumping into an uncomfortable chair. You tune out their excited plans for your makeup and hair tomorrow, San says something about an end of year Award show.

All you want is to go home to your empty dormitory and sleep.

When you finally arrive to the ‘comfort’ of your ‘studio apartment’ (box room), it isn’t long before you strip down to your pyjamas and aggressively rub off the layers of makeup that seem to cling to every pore and fine line of your face. The cold air from the fan soothes the aching of your body from your strict workout routine. You stay awake until 4am, reading comments from netizens and replying to fans on your fancafe, it  was hard not to become obsessed with checking what people thought; whether they loved or loathed you.

[+184 -93] Y/N is talented, but they look devoid of emotion since last week...maybe singing a song so personal isn’t a good idea….what if the person it’s about hears it…..

User FYL**8 was right, it had become draining trying to convey emotions you’d long let go of. Your debut song was fresh and fun, it didn’t garner much attention but at least you hadn’t had to fake emotions and relive your first heartbreak.

Although the memories of the breakup didn’t hurt as much, the happiest ones were the most painful. The feeling of ignorance, thinking he meant forever and believing him completely...it was all so distant yet felt a fingertip away.

That night you slept with a heavy heart, remembering what it felt like when he’d hold you close and right and kiss you on the head to soothe your worries. Why did it have to end? Why like that? You try to drift into a nice sleep after another exhausting day but to no avail, thoughts of him are flooding every thought. Has he heard it? There was no way he hadn’t, he loved to check out every ranking song for inspiration or for another artist to add to his monthly playlist. 

Would he get angry? Sad? Laugh at your pathetic feelings? He was right in the end, when it came down to it you only shared your feelings when it was too late.

Stupid Christopher fucking Bang.

It wasn’t often you’d refer to him as Chan, you had met him when he only saw it as another name for himself that he hardly used. Back when his hair had been fluffed up curls that he couldn’t contain and his light freckles weren’t covered by BB Cream. When he didn’t belong to the world and only loved you.

After months of forcing yourself not to, you hastily search “Stray kids Bang Chan + Y/N”, Then “Stray Kids Y/N” and finally “Skz Y/N”. The results are minimal and far inbetween, mostly tweets from fans wishing for a collab and oddly enough one person making edited photos of you and them, which are so convincing you have to remind yourself you hadn’t met them.

Thoughts drift to his friends, the ones who didn’t know Chris was even seeing someone and had been for over a year. They tried to sugarcoat it, say they forgot, it’s hard to keep track when you’re training and all that. 

The sinking feeling you felt when Minho asked how long you’d been together, guessing a month at most. When you did reply, ears burning with embarrassment he coughed and muttered “Oh.’, That had stung.

Everything had seemed so perfect, until you opened your eyes and saw it for what it was.

You don’t end up sleeping much, two hours at most, Then it’s time to get ready and head to the Broadcast Studio for today’s event. All you know is it’s a show about giving advice, the reviews aren’t great but you aren’t allowed to turn anything down because fame is a double-edged sword that you can barely grasp as is.

Iris and San are already waiting for you when you get there, within minutes makeup is being patted into your skin and your outfit is laid out on the chair next to you.

“Sleep more, Y/N-ah, I had to use a double coverage concealer to hide your dark circles.” Iris said in a fretful tone.

“I try, it’s hard being famous.” You reply jokingly, flipping your hair the best you can. Iris smacks your hand away and frantically finds her hairspray.

Within twenty minutes you’re dressed and not one hair is out of place, San pulls you aside with an uncharacteristically stern face. 

“The company have specific goals for sending you here, they want you to delve into a story of heartbreak to comfort today’s victim, while keeping anonymity and remaining as vague as you can.” 

Of course, even a show about helping others is fictional.

You nod solemnly and prepare to go on air, sitting on a cushion next to a popular comedian who doesn’t bother to even look at you. A well-known Streamer is on your other side and you begin polite small talk, which seems to irritate the host.

“We’re on in 3,2….1!” A sharp click follows the director’s queue and the host bursts right into the introduction.

After you’re introduced it’s easy to tune out, you couldn’t give a shit about that stuck-up comedian and the actress to their right. Instead you think of how the fuck you’re supposed to conjure up an emotional performance with little to no time to prepare.

‘My ex-boyfriend hid me for almost two years’ no, not even worthy of a cheap gossip magazine. ‘I thought my boyfriend loved me, turns out he loved his career more’ Maybe...but you sound too needy. 

“Today’s guest is Lee Chaeun of Suwon! Tell us your story, please.” 

You turn to look at the guest who walks onto the set and sits at the head of the pillow mats. She’s clearly a young girl, her baby face is covered by face-framing layers of shiny black hair and her eyes are already glassy.

“Last year, I began dating my crush after years of admiring him from afar...Everything seemed so perfect until last week….He dumped me by text message saying he needed space and now he’s with someone new..” Chaeun bursts into tears and the host fakes a sympathetic face and passes her a box of tissues.

“Ah, you’re young...you don’t know anything yet. This is a normal phase for teenagers, men realise themselves and break girls down so they become beautiful women. It’s just a case of a little girl not wanting to grow up!” Chimes in the Comedian, who talks about his falsities as if they’re facts.

The audience erupts into laughter and the heartbroken teenager lowers her head in embarrassment. Which only makes you more enraged, Who told that guy he was funny?

“Chaeun has every right to be upset!” You exclaim, cutting through the laugher like a hot knife. “When a relationship ends when everything seems alright for one person, it's cruel. Being blindsided isn’t a joke. It hurts and she deserves closure, and to move on someday to a better person..What happened to her shouldn’t happen to anyone!”  You barely register a gentle hand on top of yours, far too surprised by the fact there are tears dripping down your face. Crying wasn’t an option, so you pull yourself together and apologise to Chaeun and the host you cannot stand.

“Y/N, You seemed personally moved by Chaeun’s story, have you experienced a painful breakup?” The host asks curiously.

“You could say that,” You begin with a wry smile. “I was with someone who lived a double life, they were completely different when they were with other people...Things ended when I was still planning for future dates...it made me realise how fake they were.”

The guests all nod and you squeeze Chaeun’s hand, she smiles at you seeming relieved that she isn’t the only one who has felt this kind of pain. 

Everything goes smoothly after that, other guests chime in and the actress that seemed snobby is openly discussing her ex vomiting all over her Valentinos. You can’t help but wonder if the company really suggested this, or if it was divine intervention (Choi San, your manager). 

You don’t feel so alone anymore, everyone is guaranteed several things, two being love and heartbreak of some kind. 

“Thanks to singer Y/N and actress Sojung, Chaeun was able to feel a little better...Thank you for joining us on ‘Help No Counsellor!’, Join us next week when…’

“Choi San, you sneaky bastard.”

He tries to act surprised but a shit-eating grin soon overtakes his acting, Iris shakes her head and zips her makeup bag closed. It isn’t long until you’re all at The Min’s enjoying red bean bread and warm tea.  “What does inept even mean? I’m assuming it’s a good thing because Wooyoung kissed me after saying it.” San mentions, his lips curving upwards at the fond memory.

“I’d have to agree with Woo, it fits you perfectly.” You reply, circling around his question while Iris tries not to choke on her food.

Fits of laughter die down when you spot a familiar face, Lee Mijoo. 

Her blonde hair flows down her back in loose curls and her soft eyes seem to enchant everyone, admittedly even you for a short time.Behind her is a slightly taller figure dressed in all black and your stomach drops.They don’t seem to notice your presence, so you decide to use this valuable time to hide behind a menu. 

San and Iris try to play along best they can, but it is quite distressing that all of this has happened so suddenly, with no prior warning. But he did bring you here, a lot. So it’s amusing to see his date ideas haven't changed. 

As he’s walking past you he pauses, and you want to shrivel into a hole and die, He’s clearly recognised you but can’t be 100% sure due to The Min’s menu covering your entire face. 

“Y/N?” 

Shit. You cannot hide from this.

Slowly taking the menu away and placing it down on the table you smile at him, maybe a little too forced but it’s the best you can do. His hair is blonde now, his curls are long gone but his smile is as genuine as ever. 

Stupid Christopher Bang and his stupid ‘I-totally-didn’t-break-your-heart’ attitude.

“Chan, nice to see you. Still obsessed with their double shots?” You humoured, he seemed grateful for that.

“Oh, absolutely...and I see you’re still not saving any bean bread for anyone else.” 

You laugh, it’s a bittersweet one at best but nevertheless it’s a laugh.

'Well it’s great to see you again, I’d love to exchange numbers if that’s alright?” 

Without thinking you nod and oblige him, much to your friend’s disappointment which is evident by their glares. Mijoo exchanges smiles with everyone, who could hate her? She was funny, kind hearted and beautiful in every aspect. 

When they finally leave to their outside seats you breathe a sigh of relief and sink into the chair.Iris strokes your hair and San grabs more snacks to go, the walk home isn’t peaceful. It’s awkward and silent, which only makes your head spin more. When you drop off Iris you know a lecture is coming, San hates doing it but you know he tells you what you need to hear, even if it hurts.

“Look, I’m happy you were able to brush off all the hurt today but earlier on you were crying about….this. Don’t give him the power to hurt you twice.”

“You’re right, thanks Sannie.” You reply, taking his arm and smiling at the warmth of his (Wooyoung’s) fuzzy coat. 

Once San leaves and you get inside, it’s a matter of minutes before you hop in the shower and get rid of all the hairspray and mascara that’s been making you itch all day. The warm water soothes away your nerves and the impending frostbite from being outside in the cold for far too long. 

Once you feel clean and somewhat scalded you step out onto warm fluffy towels (cheap warm fluffy towels with holes in them) and get situated for bed.

Just as you exit the bathroom your phone rings and you answer immediately, it’s probably Iris wanting you to play a new Among Us mod with her. 

“Iris?”

“Uh, no, Chris.” 

“Oh.” is your initial reply, why would he call you at midnight?

“Where you asleep? I’m sorry I’ll call back another ti-”

“No!” You interject, much too eagerly. “No...it’s fine. I’m not even in bed yet.”

“Oh” He sounds relieved, much the opposite of you.

“I just wanted to congratulate you...The song, it’s great. What’s it like actually singing one you wrote?”

“Great,” You admit with a smile he can't see, “It feels...genuine. I Couldn't stand the thought of giving the song away.”

“I can see why.” He replies in an unreadable tone.

“Did it make you uncomfortable? Me singing...about-”

“No, why would it?” He cuts in, he sounds slightly agitated.

“Look, Chan, I’m sorry. I should’ve texted you, well I did but you changed your number. But it’s my story too, okay? I needed to heal somehow.”

Minutes pass with no answer, as if he’s trying to think of exactly what to say without getting more irritated or to spare your feelings.

“When did I become Chan?” His voice comes out wavering,and it hurts you.

“That’s what everyone calls you now, you’re not just Chris the trainee anymore.” You reply in a gentle way, trying to ease the building tension.

“But to you, when did I stop being Chris?”

“Probably when you broke my heart,” You deadpan, before adding a ‘kidding’ and bullshit reason.

“You weren’t kidding, but you broke mine too. Don’t make me the bad guy.”

This had taken you aback, you had been in a perfectly happy relationship for almost two years and then he changed his mind, said he wasn’t happy and it wasn’t your fault. When the fuck did you break his heart?

“When exactly did that happen?” You query, “Before or after Mijoo?”

Chan lets out a dry laugh, “Don’t talk about what you don’t understand.”

“Well what does it matter? You never told me shit anyways.” You snapped.

“That’s because you wouldn’t fucking listen. Maybe to you it was all sunshine and roses but I was struggling, I changed and outgrew us. I didn’t want to but you were stuck in dreamland where we’d debut at the same time and live happily ever after. I realised it wasn’t going to happen and set you free so you wouldn’t be embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” You bark,”Fucking embarrassed of what exaclty? I left that shithole you call your company by choice and worked my way up. I’m not embarrassed, but you should be. You’re a fucking sellout Christopher Bang.”

Before he can reply you end the call and throw your phone at the wall, it would’ve broken only for the forty dollar case the store assistant convinced you to buy. You burst into tears just like you had that night when it all came crashing down. He must’ve loved seeing you in pain, because he keeps doing it even now.

That night, you wish for everything to go back to a time before him and the heartbreak that followed.

It’s early on a Friday when you’re called into a board meeting with the CEO, Director and San, who looks like someone stepped on his clay masterpiece. You still haven’t been told anything and as the minutes pass by you wonder if they found out about you getting drunk at Club Suran several weeks back. What if someone saw San there too? What if–

Suddenly the doors open and in walks JYP’s CEO, followed by several others and finally Chris. He looks as confused as you, but you quickly look away before he spots you. Last night was still fresh in your mind and you didn’t need anymore reminders or conversations with him.

“Dispatch has sent us several photos of you two together, spanning several years.” Your CEO announces, an Executive pulling the photos up on the screen behind her. “Including one from yesterday.”

“That was a coincidence, we broke up a long time ago.” You admit, she seems satisfied with your answer and nods, which makes you remember that damned dating ban you have.

“Usually, we’d shoot down these rumours immediately...but this could be quite beneficial to both Stray Kids and Y/N.” JYP’s CEO adds, “Stock prices have shown a rise for both of your albums, and real time searches are at an all time high.” 

“I have a girlfriend.” Chan states, arms folded. “So that’s out of the question if you’re implying we fake a relationship.”

“Look Bang Chan,” Begins one of the Advisors, “It’s all for show, we’ll plan every detail and your girlfriend will keep her mouth shut if she knows what's good for her. Frankly, our sales aren't what they used to be and you need this, if you want complete musical and artistic control.”

Chan takes a while to think, you know this is all he’s wanted. Control over everything he and the boys put out there, with no censorship or edits by anyone else. Your CEO assures you you’ll also benefit from the agreement, including your debt fully cleared and money in your bank account as soon as you sign on the dotted line.

“How long does this last?” You ask, pen in hand.

“Twelve months, then you’re free again.” 

Chan looks to you for conformation and you ignore him, signing it and standing up to leave. You only stop to sign more formalities and then you and San head back to your local coffee shop. 

“Well, you sure have a funny way of moving on.”

[some-days-we-get-sundays]

Full of shit and in too deep.  A Wildmoore fic

This is a prompt request that I got from @aliyahtheghost : “Sophie and Ryan have been messing around for a couple months when Kate Kane returns. Sophie basically breaks up with Ryan. Ryan is heartbroken while Sophie can’t stop thinking about Ryan while with Kate. What will Sophie do?.” So I didn’t completely fulfill this because I do not want Sophie breaking up with Ryan for Kate and also didn’t want to write Sophie and Kate being romantic. I tired to make it similar to what you asked. <3 If y’all like imagine me and you please read to the end I know it’s long ish but I’m geeked about the ending.

Ryan lets out a soft whimper as she feels Sophie pepper delicate kisses onto her neck. Ryan tilts her head back against the pillow and then drops her right hand into Sophie’s hair to keep Sophie’s head and lips in place against her neck. She runs her fingers through Sophie’s hair while Sophie darts out her tongue against Ryan’s throat. She licks and then sucks Ryan’s skin; leaving wet marks and eventual hickeys in her wake. 

“FUCK, Sophie!” Ryan mutters while biting her own lip to keep from yelling out again. Sophie chuckles against Ryan’s throat and the vibration of her laugh nearly sends Ryan over the edge. Ryan and Sophie were playing one of Ryan’s favorite games. It was sort of like too hot, where they see who can get the other hot before they have to just rip each others clothes off. Ryan always loses and starts unbuttoning Sophie’s pants or trying to take off Sophie’s top within minutes. Sophie thinks Ryan doesn’t even try very hard to win. 

Sophie feels Ryan start to move her hands towards Sophie’s button on her pants. Instead of letting Ryan have her way, Sophie takes Ryan’s hands and pins them over the top of Ryan’s head. Sophie looks down into Ryan’s eyes and Ryan gazes back up at Sophie’s almond hues. When this happens, it’s not just lust, rawness, and sex anymore; It’s passion, love, trust, and care. Sometimes Ryan and Sophie kid themselves. They pretend that what they’re doing is just casual, light, fun. No feelings. No, “where is this going, what are we” questions. When they hold each others gazes in this way however, they both know they are full of shit and in too deep.

Sophie rolls off the top of Ryan and then lies on her side. Ryan immediately rolls over and spoons Sophie from behind, snaking her arm around Sophie’s midsection. Sophie thinks it’s funny that Ryan is so small but loves to be the big spoon. They do this often too. Lie in stillness with each other. Their breathing and heartbeats slowly synch up and dance in a melodic rhythm, and it’s the only sound in the room. 

Suddenly there is a knock at Sophie’s front door. Sophie untangles herself from Ryan and shuts the bedroom door behind her as she goes to see who the visitor is. Sophie is happy that she is still fully clothed so that whoever is at the door isn’t kept waiting. 

Sophie opens the door and her breath catches, she puts her hand to her chest instinctively. 

“Kate.” Sophie says. Sophie looks back to the room that Ryan is currently occupying. Then she looks back to Kate who is standing in her doorway with her motorcycle helmet under one arm. Sophie runs a hand through her hair,  attempting to nonchalantly fix up her appearance so she doesn’t look like she was just fooling around with someone. Not that it would be Kate’s business if she was. Kate left. 

“Hi Sophie.” Kate says. 

Sophie and Kate stand like this for what feels like several minutes. Sophie, not moving to let Kate in, and Kate seeming unsure of what to do as she stands across from Sophie in the doorway. 

“I uh, I would invite you in but now is not a good time.” Sophie says. Sophie doesn’t want to tell Kate that she has company. She prays that Ryan stays in the room and doesn’t come out to see who is at the door. They aren’t hiding their— whatever they are. No they aren’t hiding but now is not the time to tell Kate that she is messing around with Ryan. How would Kate even react. 

“I’m sorry, I should have called first. That was rude of me.” Kate offers. 

“Why are here, Kate?” Sophie doesn’t mean for this to sound so sharp. But she also offers no apology for her tone.

“I made a mistake leaving you the way I did. It was stupid. I don’t know if we can, perhaps, I don’t know, maybe start over? Or we could pick up where we left off? You thought I was dead Sophie, and then it turns out I’m not dead and instead of staying I rush off to go find Bruce. That was a dick move.” Kate finishes. She shifts on her feet. Sophie can tell she wants to be invited in. 

“Yeah.” Sophie says. What else is she supposed to say. Kate ripped out her heart and yeah it was a dick move. 

“Ok... I’m gonna go see if I can stay with Mary for the night. Hopefully it will be ok with Ryan, I don’t want to impose. Maybe we can get coffee tomorrow?” Kate says, seeming to finally get the hint that Sophie is not going to let her in tonight. Sophie’s heart picks up at the mention of Ryan’s name. 

“Ryan’s not over there.” Sophie says quickly. Then she immediately regrets saying anything. Kate gives her a look. Sophie tries to explain. 

“I mean, I uh, I think she said she was gonna be out tonight. Doing bat stuff or something.” Sophie was never that great of a liar. Kate gives her another look. Sophie tries to breathe.

“So you two are pretty close then huh?” Kate randomly says. 

Sophie sputters. “Um oh, yeah, no. I mean yeah, Ryan’s cool. We didn’t get along at first but, yeah. I like her now. I mean she likes me now. I mean like we are friends now because I’m not with the Crows trying to arrest her and she’s well, you know, she’s Batwoman.” Sophie let’s out a forced raspy laugh, feeling mortified at her explanation of Ryan. 

“Ok well, I’ll uh, I’ll text you tomorrow morning when I get up and we can grab that coffee.” Kate says. She hovers at the door and then she lunges forward and wraps Sophie in a hug. Sophie returns the hug. Kate steps back, waves goodbye, and then she is gone. Sophie closes the door and leans her head against it. 

“So, Kate’s back.” Ryan says. Sophie jumps and then whips her head around to see a sleepy looking Ryan who has changed into sleep shorts and one of Sophie’s old military shirts. The shirt is too small on Ryan’s shorter muscular frame, it rides up and has turned into some what of a crop top on her. 

“Are you ok?” Ryan asks. Sophie’s heart melts just a bit. Instead of Ryan being accusatory, or being upset with Sophie, her first thought is worry and concern over Sophie’s well being. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m ok. That was just, weird.” Sophie says. Sophie walks towards Ryan and stands in front of her. She reaches out and lightly tugs down on the shirt Ryan is wearing. Then she goes to the couch and Ryan follows her. 

“So what did she want?” Ryan asks. 

Sophie sighs. “She wants to get coffee I guess. Says she misses me.” 

“I can imagine.” Ryan says softly. Sophie looks up at Ryan and then tucks a strand of hair behind Ryan’s ear. She brings her hand down and let’s her thumb lazily touch Ryan’s bottom lip in the process.

“Should I go? Should I go have coffee with her? I told her I would but—” Sophie trails off. 

“Why not?” Ryan says. Sophie eyes Ryan. 

“I don’t really have anything to say to her, Ryan. I mean, I can’t have her coming in and out of my life whenever she pleases.” Sophie says. Ryan puts her hand on Sophie’s shoulder and then starts rubbing Sophie’s back. 

“Maybe just see what she wants, get closure or something? I don’t know.” Ryan says. She then stops rubbing Sophie’s back and adjusts her body so that she is lying down with her head resting in Sophie’s lap. Sophie’s hand immediately drops to Ryan’s head to play with her hair. 

“I know what she wants, Ryan. She wants to get back together. I mean I really think she thought she could just waltz back in here and come into my life again; as if I’ve just been frozen in time waiting for her, like some lap dog. Sometimes I think that’s what she thinks of me. The girl who is just going to wait around for Kate Kane to come riding back on her white knight motorcycle and save everybody. I’m not that girl anymore, Ryan. I mean, I quit the Crows. She didn’t even ask me about that. She didn’t ask me about my life at all. Does she care what I’ve been up to, what I’ve been through? What we have all been through?” Sophie waits for an answer from Ryan. When no answer comes, she looks down and see’s Ryan’s eyes are closed and she’s breathing slow, deep and steady. She’s fallen asleep. Sophie smiles to herself and continues running her fingers through Ryan’s tresses. She pulls a near by blanket over them and then reaches for a book that is on her coffee table. She tries to focus on her book but all she can think about is Kate’s impromptu visit and whether or not she should grab coffee with her extremely flighty ex. 

“I’m glad you decided to meet me Sophie. I was worried you would back out.” Kate says as she brings their coffees to a table that Sophie is leading them to. Kate sets the drinks down and her and Sophie sit in their respective chairs across from one another. As soon as they sit, Sophie bites down on the blueberry muffin that she ordered so that she doesn’t have to answer Kate right away. She watches as Kate blows on her coffee and takes a timid sip. 

“Ok Sophie, I’m just going to say it. I want you back. I want us back. I’m really sorry for the way that I left. I had so much on my mind and I didn’t know how to handle it. I had to get away to process everything.” Kate said. 

Sophie takes a deep breath. “I understand that Kate. But, you can’t just keep coming and going. I want closure. I want to move on from this time in my life. I want to close up these wounds and you, you just keep pouring salt on them.” Sophie looks up to see Kate’s reaction to her words. Kate looks taken aback. 

“Sophie–” Kate starts.

“Look, Kate. I know it is not your fault, what happened to you, and what they did to you. And I’d love to be here for you as a, as a friend but I’m not ready to be with— no. It’s not that I’m not ready. I don’t want to be with you in that way, Kate.” Sophie says. Sophie looks apologetic, but she also looks determined, fierce, confident, older. This Sophie was different from the one that Kate knew.  

“It’s Ryan isn’t it.” Kate says suddenly. Sophie’s heart leaps out of her chest. How the hell did Kate put that one together. 

“What’s Ryan?” Sophie says, not wanting to offer anything up and waiting to see what else Kate was going to say. 

“Come on Sophie, you know you’ve always been an awful liar. She was there with you last night wasn’t she.” Kate says. It wasn’t a question. Sophie shifts in her chair and looks out the window. None of this was Kate’s business. 

“Do you love her?” Kate asks. Sophie stays quiet. Her and Ryan hadn’t even discussed what they were yet, no way was she going to be giving Kate this tea. 

“Ok, you don’t have to tell me.” Kate says in that smug way she always says and does everything. Like she knows better than everyone, like she knows people better than they know themselves. “I guess that’s what Ryan meant when she said her and I had more in common than I knew.” Kate says. 

“I’m a different person than I was when I was with you Kate. I’m not going to get into what is going on with me and Ryan because that’s not any of your business, but I’m not going to hurt Ryan, I refuse to hurt her actually, and I would never betray her trust. Even if it wasn’t for Ryan, you and me just can’t work out. We want different things and we are at extremely different points in our lives. I can’t keep living in the past. I want to move forward. You’re my past Kate, and it is something that is part of me, but it’s not my story. You know, you’ve not asked me once about what has been going on since you’ve been gone. It doesn’t feel like you want to know the new me, it feels like you want to hang onto the old me. But the old me wasn’t happy, the old me was hiding in the closet, scared to be out, scared to tell my mom who I really was. The old me was sneaking around, scared to be myself. The old me was stupidly dedicated to the Crows, so much so that it almost got me and my friends killed!” Sophie says the last parts of her speech breathlessly. Kate looks shocked and confused. 

“See, you don’t even know all the things that have happened. And again, I don’t blame you Kate. You came back from the dead, you had other fish to fry. But that’s just it. Us and timing. Even with you coming back now. It was not good timing, and I don’t think it ever will be.” Sophie says. She starts sipping her coffee now that she was sure it had cooled down. She watches Kate. 

“Well that settles it then, doesn’t it.” Kate says.

“Kate—” Sophie tries, she doesn’t want to end on a sour note. 

“No, no I’m not mad Sophie. I appreciate your honesty.” Kate gulps the last of her coffee and stands up. Sophie takes this as her que to stand as well. Sophie cleans up her crumbs into a napkin and crumples it in her hand. Kate takes their empty coffee mugs up to the front counter. They walk out to the parking lot. Sophie looks around for Kate’s motorcycle and then sees it parked some feet away, sun glistening on the handle bars. Sophie puts her hand above her eyes to shield the sun. 

“Ryan is lucky to have you, kid.” Kate says. She regards Sophie with a look and then starts off towards her motorcycle. 

“I’m pretty lucky myself, actually.” Sophie says to Kate and then smiles to herself.

“You always did like your women in suits.” Kate says. She continues walking towards her motorcycle and then turns around and gives Sophie the two finger salute. Sophie smiles and watches as Kate gets on her bike, puts her helmet over her head, revves up the engine and then takes off. Sophie hates to admit it but she hopes it’s the last time that she sees Kate. at least for a while. She wasn’t lying when she said they could be friends, she also wasn’t lying when she said she refused to hurt Ryan and break Ryan’s trust. Sophie jumps into her car and heads back to her place, on the way she calls Ryan to see if she will meet her there. 

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

Sophie enters her place and see’s Ryan lounging on the couch watching some Batman cartoon, she’d figured when she told Ryan to meet her here that Ryan would get there first and let herself in. She gave Ryan a key a couple of weeks ago and it’s been fun to come home to someone that she cares so much about. It’s still blows her mind that only a year ago her and Ryan couldn’t stand each other. And now Ryan was all over Sophie’s place. In Sophie’s bed, on Sophie’s couch, on Sophie’s shirts, in Sophie’s arms.

“Hey Soph! How cool is it that I’m literally watching Batman, and I’m freakin Batwoman bish!” 

Sophie laughs.��“Pretty cool, babe.” Ryan looks up and smirks at Sophie and the pet name that just slipped out of Sophie’s mouth. Ryan sits up and pauses the TV. 

“How is Kate?” Ryan asks. Sophie takes off her shoes and coat and goes to sit next to Ryan on the couch. 

“Kate’s... Kate. She’s gone again.” Sophie says and rolls her eyes. 

“Are we, are we mad about this?” Ryan asks. She is not sure how Sophie is feeling but wants to support her in whatever way she can. 

“Gosh no.” Sophie says briskly. Ryan says nothing and Sophie continues. 

“Kate wanted to get back together and I shut it down. She uh, she actually kind of guessed that something was going on between you and I, I didn’t really confirm it completely but she seemed to know anyway. I didn’t give her details.” Sophie says hesitantly, trying to register Ryan’s reactions. Ryan still says nothing, she just looks at Sophie with those rich, deep brown eyes of hers and Sophie has to look away because sometimes Ryan is just... Ryan is so raw and fragile at times that it makes Sophie ache. Sophie swears that one day she is going to drown in a pool of Ryan Wilder’s eyes. 

Ryan finally speaks. “So, Kate suspected that something was going on between you and me and that bitch still tried to shoot her shot!” Ryan says pretending to be extremely incensed. Sophie sniggers at Ryan’s antics. 

“She kept trying to pry but I didn’t want to tell her.” Sophie says. Ryan looks confused. 

“You didn’t want to tell her what?” Ryan says. 

“I didn’t want to tell her how crazy I am about you. I mean I did want to tell her. I want to tell everyone! But I thought you should be the first to know how I feel.” Sophie says. She puts her hand on top of Ryan’s hand. 

“And uh, how do you feel?” Ryan quietly asks. Sophie’s answer comes in the form of her lips on Ryan’s lips. Ryan’s eyes flutter shut and Sophie places her hand behind Ryan’s head to deepen the kiss. They break apart and lean their foreheads together. 

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that, can you repeat it? How do you feel?” Ryan jokes. Instead of another kiss, Sophie wraps Ryan up in a hug, placing her hand on Ryan’s head and pulling her into her chest. They fall back onto the couch. 

“I feel like everything that happens from here on just proves that you have been right in that first moment. When you suddenly realize that you were incomplete and now you are whole...” Sophie says, almost to herself. 

“Not you quoting Imagine Me & You.” Ryan laughs and buries her head into the crook of Sophie’s arm. Sophie laughs and then there is a comfortable lull in the conversation, where their breathing and heartbeats synch up once more. 

“I dare you to love me.” Sophie barely says above a whisper. 

“I just might.” Ryan responds back quietly, her head resting on Sophie’s chest. 

“Don’t forget me, Soph.” Ryan says softly after a few beats.  

“I won’t remember anything else.” Sophie says.

The two of them lie there for a while like that. Ryan drifting in and out of sleep, and Sophie playing with Ryan’s hair. Sophie’s eyes dance around her own living room as if seeing it for the first time. She looks at her coffee table, empty except for the book laying there and she decides that tomorrow she is going to purchase some fresh lilies. Sophie, feeling more content, more alive, and more like herself than she’s ever felt before, glances down at a peacefully sleeping Ryan Wilder on her chest and smiles.

[snapeaddict]

I was fairly certain Remus did regret his actions though. He literally tells Harry that he often stood aside and watched it happen without saying anything, and that he wishes he had. In the Prisoner of Azkaban, whenever Snape gives a dig at Lupin or insult him and Harry tries to stand up for Lupin, he repeatedly excuses Snape's actions. Hell, even when Snape tries to reveal Lupin is a werewolf and eventually causes his loss of job, Lupin never hits back, or even tries to defend himself.

I’ll divide my answer into three parts. 

1 - Repentance vs Regret 

So, you are right. I do think Lupin regrets some of his past actions - but the thing is, it seems to make you think he understood the seriousness of his actions/has grown up/is now a better person. And I strongly believe it is not the case regarding the subject of bullying. 

“In repentance, there is a retrospection of the past mistake and a search for a better way so as to not commit the mistake if such a situation arises in the future. In repentance, there is a commitment towards change. Thus, repentance is an act that intends to make one a better person. If you are repenting, it means you are learning from your mistakes and willing to change to become a better person.”

This, does not apply to Remus. We know from the books he never understands and/or refuses to acknowledge what he and his friends did wasn’t justified or deserved; he doesn’t address it as bullying as I explain in this post. Lupin’s behaviour pattern is quite clear throughout the saga: he never or only partially acknowledges his faults and they are always someone else’s doing for the most part. 

“Regret is a feeling of remorse that is a negative emotion as it leads one to think continuously about his past action or behaviour and causes more shame, guilt, anger, disappointment etc.

On the other hand, repentance is a positive emotion as it makes one learn about his mistake, and he vows not to repeat it in the future.”

Lupin gives the image of a kind, understanding and mature person who knows how to put into question is own behaviour when necessary when he tells Harry and Sirius he knows he should have prevented them from tormenting Snape (Chapter 29 of OOTP). But then, as the conversation continues, if you closely analyses his thoughts - he keeps indulging into self-beating and talking about his own behaviour. He is completely self-centred and cares more about the image he gives than about the consequences of his actions and this clearly is the way he functions:

- He is willing to risk Harry’s life by not telling Dumbledore Sirius is an animagus rather than confess he betrayed his trust as a teenager: he cares more about what the headmaster thinks of him than about the consequences of his actions.

- He finds the time to acknowledge he should have behaved better - what a mature reaction - but never acknowledges Snape’s trauma or the seriousness of what was done to him. He thinks of it as a “rivalry”. 

- He puts a lot of effort into burnishing his and his friends’ image by justifying bullying with “rivalry”, “jealousy”, and agreeing with the fact “it was a mutual hate and those are things that happen” rather than admitting they behaved terribly.

So yes, Remus regrets his actions. But it is clear to me he firstly regrets them because it gives him a bad image in front of Harry and Dumbledore, and to himself; he never learns from his mistakes nor can make sure to not repeat them in the future, because he simply refuses to acknowledge them and put his energy into minimising them or making them, for the most part, Snape’s own fault. I find Remus to be a self-centred and cowardly person, and this behaviour goes along with it. 

However, I am not saying this makes him a bad man and understand this is directly linked to the fact he is a werewolf and giving a positive image of himself is nearly vital for him. But clearly, the fact he regrets his actions means nothing besides what I just explained, in my opinion, because Remus refuses to acknowledge what they did. He never repents and we must not mistake regrets for repentance. Remember that being critical of a character doesn’t make him less interesting or likable and has nothing to do with your personal liking of him. Snape isn’t a saint either, it’s actually interesting to have characters with layers. However, Remus was written kindly and “loved” by the books’ narrative and POV; Snape was not.

2 - He still behaves, in his thirties, like a bully

...which shows he does not repent or feel sorry for what was done to Snape and their other victims. I had the chance to discuss this with @ottogatto and she was very helpful and gave me a very interesting insight on Remus’ behaviour as we see it through Harry’s eyes in the books. 

As she explained, nearly every time the subject of Snape is brought up, Remus will subtlely put the fault on him. “He was jealous”, “Your father was more popular than he was and he hated it”, “He was jealous of James’ talent for Quidditch”, “Sirius and James were good at everything and everyone loved them, unlike Snape” are embedded quotes from HP5. Why was Snape furious against him at the end of HP3? “Because he wanted the Order of Merlin”; not because Remus had nearly killed him again as well as three students, just as he had done when Snape was younger. He keeps dismissing the consequences of his actions and justifies (to both Harry and the readers), the abuse Snape went through at the hands of the Marauders. He uses a florilegium of excuses commonly used by bullies that are both very vicious and even pervert in their aims (pervert = lead someone away from what is considered acceptable. Distort or corrupt the original meaning or state of things. Exactly what he does repeatedly). This is still the behaviour of an abuser. If @ottogatto finds the post she made about it, you may like to read it as well. Remus refuses to acknowledge Snape is right to act in the way he does regarding the bullying he went through and thus deepens the hate that already exists between Harry and Snape.

From the (wonderful) @ottogatto: You see, when you tell people how your target is jealous of you, it demonizes them in a shameful way. It tells how they are a pathetic person attacking you wrongfully, oh poor innocent human that did nothing wrong. Jealousy, after all, is a fault that remains completely on the jealous one. It gives your listeners the image that your prey is a mistrustful person while putting you in the position of someone who can be envied -- supposedly for your goodness. Because that prey is framed as mistrustful and ill-intentioned, it allows people to doubt whatever accusation your target might have: either "they're lying", or "exaggerating", or "making things up". Only those who are versed in the mechanisms of bullying -- the easy or the hard way -- will spot the problem. Otherwise, people will find a pretext, a rightful excuse, or an innocent, well-intentioned goal, to keep your prey alone, weak, and "punished".

3 - It is absolutely normal Lupin doesn’t defend himself or hits back when Snape reveals he is a werewolf

...because he is in the wrong. Snape doesn’t even cause his loss of job and you may want to reread the books while not taking Harry’s perspective for the unbiased truth. Dumbledore is obviously the one who asks Remus to resign. Remus just nearly killed three students and a professor, and roamed freely onto both Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade as a werewolf, risking many deaths and infections because he forgot the potion Snape had been brewing for him (he depended on Snape, another reason not to fight with him). Dumbledore just learns it isn’t the first time he betrayed his trust and he did the same for two years as a teenager, risking Hogwarts’s closure and reputation and his position as headmaster, breaking the promise he made to him when he was accepted as school. The worst thing is, it is Sirius who tells Dumbledore. Not Remus. Remus clearly demonstrates he is dangerous in spite of himself - Dumbledore learns as well he hid a very important information from him (Sirius being an animagus) during the year, supposedly risking Harry’s life. Dumbledore doesn’t apologize for Snape’s behaviour when he tells him goodbye and it is reasonable to suppose it is because he is fine with Lupin’s identity not being a secret anymore. 

I understand Snape’s decision (and certainly Dumbledore’s as well, as read in Snape: A Definitive Reading and various clever posts on Tumblr) may seem cruel and negatively impacted Remus in a society full of prejudices; but I understand Snape’s decision as well. Lupin was a walking danger and had proved it countless of times, nearly killing him: I’ll always argue his decision wasn’t a bad one but you may disagree. I’m sorry for Lupin and what happened to him- but I also am lucid and acknowledge the fact he continuously risked people’s lives and was a danger to society at this point (because said society didn’t help him in any way, don’t get me wrong). But to come back to your main point, Lupin was the only one who caused his loss of job, and he had no legitimacy to call out Snape for revealing his true nature to the public, because clearly only this knowledge would prevent him from doing harm in the future. It’s a complicated situation that goes deeper than Remus and Snape’s relationship. 

Lupin could also be deemed as dangerous on another level: he spreads around pro bullying rhetorics and makes it look okay if it was "deserved". He makes bullying less serious if the victim isn't likable. He makes bullying less serious because he is likable. And this is very wrong both in and outside the books.

[whattodowithkpop]

Blind Senses (Ravn)

Title: Blind Senses

Pairing: Reader x Ravn (Oneus)

Genre: Fluff, Spice, Superhero AU, Enemies to lovers, Soulmate AU

Word count: 2,543

Writer: Kpopmadness (Ju)

*****

There is a lie that every parent tells their child, we hear it when we get scared at night. We are reminded of it over and over again. 'Monsters don't exist' Monsters aren't under your bed, they aren't in the closet, they aren't trying to get in your window. The doors are locked, the window is sealed shut, everything is fine.

The only thing I was worried about when I was little was who my match was; Every child is born with a soul mark, it's the tell of where your soulmate will touch you for the very first time. But when you are touched by your soulmate, the birthmark will turn a bright shade of pink and purple before withering away. Your soulmate having been found.

My birthmark encases my right wrist, a common place for people to have their soul mark. I often forgot about my mark until I looked down and saw my one marked wrist. But every now and again a flutter would slice through my stomach at the thought that one day, that mark would be gone. And I would have found my other half.

When I was 15, my childish dreams changed forever. A science plant exploded suddenly. An experiment gone wrong. There was an orange smoke that rose from the ashes of the building, its angry smoke rushing toward our city. I still remember seeing it outside my bedroom window a second before my mother rushed in with my father and hurried us down to our basement. My father boarding up the windows and doors to block the smoke out. Screaming could be heard outside, ones of fear and agony for those who didn't get inside in time.

In the wake of that science experiment, we were left with mutants. People caught in the smoke developed supernatural powers. Some of these people developed a spiked aggression, using their powers for the worst. That is how my father died. He and a group of scientists were working on a cure for the genetic mutations. But some didn't like that. A group of mutants set up a bomb in the basement of the plant, angry that someone wanted to take their power away. Take away their sense of control.

I still remember being home with my mother when we saw the black cloud with angry flames fill the sky. The earth shaking slightly in its wake. Dread and grief filling us, knowing exactly where the explosion came from. On that day, my life, my goals, and how I viewed people with these special powers, changed.

`````

Alarms ring through the large building, the sound jarring and disorienting. I stand my ground at my station and continue working quickly. I enter a series of commands into my laptop. My fingers shaking violently.

Red lights flash and the sound of people running down the halls fills the small room. I take my lab coat off, the room sweltering. The screen on my laptop shows a loading bar, making me tap my foot impatiently. I was so close to finishing this, it would change how we see mutants. It reversed their DNA to go back to normal, their powers vanishing. The work my father started would finally be complete and I would have a sense of closure.

The lights and alarm cut out, leaving me in blackness except for the screen of my laptop. I suck in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. I was putting my life at risk for the sake of this experiment, but I had come too far to stop now. Eventually, blue lights come on, slightly illuminating the room. When they do, the loading bar on the screen is almost done, my muscles tense. Then the laptop suddenly gets slammed shut, making me jump back.

"Did I interrupt something?" A deep voice asks coldly, his palm firmly on the laptop to keep it shut.

"That's government property." I say firmly, but my voice cracks.

The man smirks at me, seeming amused by my weak attempt at a threat. Like me saying it was something the government owned would make him remove his hand from it and leave in fear.

"Yes, well, you and your government should really stop trying to cure something that doesn't need a cure." He glowers.

"And maybe we wouldn't have to look for a cure if you people weren't destroying families and killing the innocent." I shoot back, anger rising in my chest and filling my veins. My thoughts going to my father.

The man hesitates, his eyes showing a sort of concern and sympathy for my words. I take my chance and make a dive for the laptop, trying to jerk it out from under his strong hand. The man grabs my right wrist, stopping me.

"Do not try it." He snarls, his grip on my wrist horribly tight.

He slowly removes his hand from my wrist, my eyes widening and a gasp escaping my lips when I see my wrist. My soulmate mark shined a bright purple, matching the mark on his hand, then both marks slowly began to fade. Our soulmate marks disappearing. We had found our soulmates.

I stare at the man in front of me, both our eyes wide in disbelief. We were on opposite sides of a war, yet we were meant to be together. Suddenly, everything goes black. At first, I think the lights in the room have gone out. But it's my vision that disappears. I fall to the floor, my legs unable to support me. Panic grips me. I've gone blind.

"Don't worry." The man says soothingly. "I only took your sight away temporarily. Your vision will return in 10 minutes, that's just long enough time for me and my team to escape."

I take several deep breaths, trying to soothe my heart that pounded in my ribs. I spread my fingers out along the cold tile floor, trying to feel for something, anything. That's why I jump when I feel warm hands incase both my hands, making me cower away from the touch. But the grip holds firm.

"I hope we meet again." The man says. His tone sounding like he really meant that. "Maybe then it will be under better circumstances, soulmate."

He squeezes my hands before letting me go, his footsteps fading into the distance. Leaving me to recover my sight slowly, with a swirling heart and mind. I thought he had left, then I hear his voice again.

"By the way, just because I think we should know this for the future, my name is Ravn."

````

3 Years Later;

"No, we have to finish this." I demand as I follow my co-worker around the lab. The earth shaking beneath us, making everyone scurry around the room. Anxiety levels high.

"Well then you finish it then." My co-worker snaps irritably. "We don't want to die here. Unlike you and your obsession with finding this dream cure."

"It's more than that." I plead. Pushing my way through people pushing passed me in panic. The earth giving off another tremble while bright flashes of red light flash outside. Heavy rain pounding against the building like fists.

"You say that and he always comes for you." My co-worker says, whirling around to face me. His eyes raging.

I pause, my brain looking for an excuse. Any excuse. Ravn had come for me and the sought after cure for three years. No matter what I did, no matter how much I tried to hide, he always found me. His devilish smirk always reappearing.

"We're so close though." I say quietly. More of a reminder to myself than to anyone else in the room. Not that they ever listened to me. The population had given up on trying to find a cure a long time ago.

My co-worker sighs, rubbing his temples. "I know this experiment is the only thing of your father you have of him." He says, his tone softened. "But they won't stop chasing you and trying to tear you down. And they are outside as we speak."

I look over my shoulder to the large glass window behind me. Flashes of light and tremors in the earth reminding us that these weren't from natural sources. But from people. People who could control the weather and even create earthquakes to topple a building in seconds. And their leader, my soulmate, just waiting for them to break through our defenses.

"We're evacuating." My co-worker says, pulling my attention back towards him. "Come with us if you want. Otherwise, you can stay and talk to your boyfriend."

I feel a surge of heat course through me, flushing my cheeks a scarlet color. I couldn't find my voice in time to deny that he wasn't my boyfriend before my co-worker hurries off with the rest of my, supposed to be, teammates. At this point in my journey, I was used to working alone and everyone thinking I was crazy for trying to fix something that everyone else had just adjusted to and given up trying to control.

I set my jaw in determination and whirl back to my station, opening my laptop and entering the code. I watched the clock carefully as I worked. The world around me seemed to fall away as I worked, being used to Ravn coming for me to stop me from developing a cure. Our relationship having grown in a strange way. We were soulmates, but we were also enemies.

The lights in the building flicker off, just like they had three years prior when I first met Ravn. My heartbeat picks up but I keep working, knowing I still had a few valuable minutes before he showed up. My laptop gives out a series of beeps, making me step back in surprise. I stare at the screen in shock.

"I did it." I whisper under my breath, a smile spreading across my face. I found the cure to return the mutants back to their normal DNA.

"We really have to stop meeting like this." A familiar deep voice says behind me.

I whirl around and press my back against the counter's edge, trying to hide my laptop screen from his sharp eyes. Ravn stood a few feet away from me, his dark hair dripping wet from the rain. His black trench coat leaving pools of water around his boots.

"You say that, but you seem to enjoy chasing me." I reply, trying to keep my tone even. I slowly reach my hands behind my back to find the USB with the cure downloaded on it, pressing it firmly against my palm for safety.

Ravn's eyes flicker to my hands that were behind my back, his eyes taking on a cautious look. "You just can't give up on that cure, can you?"

"Someone has to keep trying."

Ravn chuckles, stepping closer to me. Making my muscles tense. "Give me the USB, sweetheart." He says dryly, extending his palm towards me.

I stare at him, how could he know?

"I'm not stupid." Ravn says, as if reading my thoughts. "I know you found the cure. Please, give it to me."

"Why is it so bad that you could all go back to your normal lives?" I ask, my voice pleading as I slide my way down the counter as Ravn comes closer.

"Because some of us have nothing to return to." Ravn answers calmly. "You would be taking away the one thing people feel they can control since they inherited their powers."

"You don't use your powers for anything good though." I argue.

"That's not true and you know it." Ravn replies. "We aren't all like that. Even if you gave the cure to some of us there would be others who would refuse to take it and would continue to wreak havoc. You take away the good people with powers you're left with the bad and you won't be able to defeat them."

I pause, that thought never having occurred to me since I took over my fathers work. The population of people with special powers had grown. 40% of the worlds population had citizens with some kind of power these past three years.

"The cure." Ravn says again, extending his hand out to me once again.

I stare at his hand, the hand that once held his soulmate mark, just like my wrist once did. Despite all he said, I still held onto the USB tighter and turned and ran from him. I knew how stupid of a move it was, it was pointless when Ravn could strip away human senses. But I still ran, and I almost got to the door when my vision disappeared, immersing me in blackness. Making me fall to my knees, the USB still clutched in my hand.

I feel Ravn's hands encase my waist, picking me up off the tile floor and taking me to the closest counter to let me lean against it. My vision a milky white.

"You know running from me does no good." His voice sounding as if he were a bit hurt by my actions.

"This cure is all I have." I choke out, still clutching the USB in my palm. My hands trembling.

Ravn seems to freeze, his breath fanning across my cheeks that were starting to streak with tears. "This cure is all I've known since my fathers death." I gush, unable to stop the words from tumbling out. My mother having completely shut down since my fathers death. Her attitude cold and isolated from me.

"It's all I have."

Ravn touches my eyes, wiping the tears away but also giving me my vision back. I'm alarmed by how close he stands to me, our eyes locked. His brown eyes hold a sadness to them I had never seen before. A sort of sympathy that had faded from people's eyes long ago when it came to me.

"It's not all you have." He whispers. "It never has been."

I stare up at him, words freezing in my throat. Before I can form a response, his lips press against mine. His hands cupping my face. I suck in a breath in shock, but soon my eyes close and my arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer to me. A sense of completeness washing over me.

Ravn slides his hands down to my ribs, picking my up and setting me on the counter. His body between my legs, his hands going to my thighs as he grips them firmly. I feel my fingers uncurl their grip on the USB, it clatters to the floor. My fingers weaving through Ravn's hair instead. His lips tugging at mine in a sort of desperation, both of us craving each other after being deprived for years.

The cure fades into an obsession that melts into my past, something I had chased thinking it was all I had. When my life had the chance to start over with Ravn and actually do something to help others. He had known something all this time that I never had. We were on the same side, I just wasn't willing to accept it. My senses blinded. And it took him to uncover them.

[emm-jayy]

baby (ii) - spencer reid

Summary: Spencer grieves the loss of you

warnings: sad spence

style of fic heavily inspired by @erin-bo-berin ‘baby shoes’

series masterlist

gif not mine

One minute

As soon as he knows you are completely gone, Spencer lets go. A wrecked sob comes out of his mouth, and he begins to cradle your body.

He apologizes profusely to you, even though he knows you can’t hear him.

Then, he hears the sirens. Spencer stays in his spot, still cradling you.

The medics come into the room, with a stretcher and backboard.

“You’re too late.” Spencer says quietly, no emotion evident in his voice.

“Sir, i’m going to need you to move away from her.” The medic says, crouching down to meet Spencer’s level.

“You’re too late!” Spencer screams this time, his words turning into another sob as soon as he says them.

At that point, Morgan, and the other members of the team walk in.

Morgan walks up behind Spencer, putting a hand on his shoulder, “You’ve got to let her go Reid.” Morgan says.

Spencer doesn’t answer, he only slow rocks himself.

“Spencer!” Morgan says, louder this time. Spencer snaps out of the daze he is in, and sets your body down.

Spencer presses a kiss to his hand, and presses it against your cheek.

One Day

The ride back on the jet is silent. The team had decided to take themselves off the case, letting local police find Jackson Price.

No one wants to talk about it, and rightfully so. Everyone on the team knew that Spencer was taking it the hardest. Price literally told Spencer to save you, and he couldn’t.

Spencer hated the sympathetic looks and touches he got. Nothing compared to how it felt when you touched him. And every time he thought about how he would never get to experience that again, he broke down.

Spencer had decided not to tell anyone the moment you two had had before you died. That was to be your moment, that was how Spencer wanted it.

The plane lands, and Spencer silently grabs his bag, walking off the plane. He gets into his car, and drives to his apartment.

Spencer isn’t sure what his plan is for when he gets back into his apartment.

He unlocks the door to his apartment, and sets his bag down onto the table.

He figures he’d just watch some Doctor Who or something, get his mind off things.

But everything in his apartment reminds him of you.

The glass that you gave out as party favors to the first party you threw.

The book on his coffee table you insisted he buy.

Even the couch looked like it had the imprint of you in it, you sat there so much.

His whole apartment screamed your name, and Spencer puts his hands over his ears, as if not to hear it.

He eventually crumbles onto his bed, falling into a sleep, filled with dreams of you.

One week

Your funeral was a week after your death. Spencer decided he could gather himself for it. Ir was the least he could do to honor your memory. Spencer drove to the venue with the team, they all claimed he shouldn’t drive alone.

The team was the ones who were to carry your casket. The walk seemed to go in slow motion, everyone staring at them.

As the service began, Spencer wanted to scream. He wanted to scream out that this isn’t what you would have wanted.

You always joked that you wanted to attend your own funeral, just to make sure everyone had fun. Spencer knew that you wouldn’t want this, he knew that you wouldn’t want the eulogies to drag on, or for everyone to be sad.

Spencer wanted to scream all of these things out, but he didn’t.

Whenever everyone put a flower on your casket, Spencer is one of the last to go.

He sets the flower onto your casket. He presses a kiss to his hand, and then presses his hand to your casket.

Spencer doesn’t attend the reception, it would have been too much.

One month

One month after your death, Spencer goes back to work.

The team is in a meeting, learning about their new case when he walks in. The whole team had told Spencer to take as long as he needed, and they were surprised to see him back so soon.

“Hey guys.” Spencer says, in a low voice. He sits down next to Morgan and Rossi.

“Hey kid.” Morgan says, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Spencer tenses at the nickname. He had gotten maybe a little bit better at things that reminded him of you, but it was still incredibly hard.

Spencer clears his throat, “Could you maybe.. not call me that Derek?” He asks, keeping his voice low.

Morgan nods, tentatively taking his hand off of Reid’s shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re ready to work, Spence?” JJ asks, looking toward him sympathetically.

“Yes. I’m ready.” Spencer says, holding his ground.

What the team didn’t know, is that Spencer had been working for the past month.

He had been trying to find Jackson Price. He had been constantly studying Price’s behaviors. Trying to figure out where he would go, where he would strike next, if he would even strike next.

Spencer had even taken a trip back to California, without the FBI’s knowledge.

An obsession had formed, but Spencer was too grief-driven to ignore it.

JJ nods, and Garcia begins to deliver the case. It was a double homicide in Florida, with a note left at the scene that indicated more murders to come.

“Wheels up in 30.” Hotch says, standing up.

Spencer stays at the table for a moment, processing the fact that he will be working a case, without you there.

Tears had become familiar to Spencer over the past month, so he wiped away the forming new ones on instinct.

He clears his throat, and walks out of the briefing room.

Three months

Three months after your death, Hotch has to hold grief assessments.

He saves Spencer’s for last, as it was arguably the most important.

“How are you doing Reid? I know that you and Y/n had a close relationship.” Hotch asks, testing the waters.

“Do you want me to lie, or tell the truth?” Spencer says, answering a question with a question.

“Obviously I’d prefer you tell the truth.” Hotch says, looking at Spencer.

“Did I ever tell you what Jackson Price said before he shot Y/n?” Spencer asks, his leg bouncing.

“No, I don’t believe you did.” Hotch says.

“He told me to try to keep her alive until the medics came.” Spencer says, a tear falling down his face as he relived the experience.

“He told me he wanted to see how good of a “doctor” I really was.” Spencer continues, “But she was ready to let go Hotch. You should’ve seen her. She made jokes, while she was minutes away from dying!” Spencer laughs in the middle of the tears that were falling.

“I held her hand, and I felt the life leave from it. So Hotch, I’m not really feeling okay.” Spencer stands up, wiping tears from his face.

“Feel free to say i’m not ready to be a part of this team. Because without Y/n on it, I'm not sure I want to be.” And with that, Spencer leaves.

Six months

Six months after your death, Spencer feels like he betrayed you.

He told someone what had actually happened in your final moments.

Spencer isn’t sure what came over him, he had repeated over and over again to himself, that that moment was to only be for you two.

But whenever someone would mention you, it would always begin with “Spencer’s friend Y/n” and he hated that.

You weren’t just friends, and that was something Spencer knew long before you died. There was always a special bond there.

Whenever you would go over to Spencer’s apartment and have a movie marathon, you two would be as close as can be.

You would fall asleep on him, and it would help Spencer go to sleep faster.

Every time you would touch him when he was feeling stressed, it would put him at ease.

You two were more than friends, but there was the unspoken rule that you couldn’t be together.

The unspoken rule that it couldn’t work, you two had both seen too much horror.

Spencer didn’t need to be in a defined relationship with you to enjoy who you were as a person, and how you made him feel.

He was just glad he got closure in the end, and you died knowing how he felt about you.

Penelope was the first person he told about your final moments.

It was during one of the times Spencer came over to her apartment. They had been doing it a lot more often. Penelope and Spencer were the closest to you, and they figured it was good to spend time together.

Spencer and her were watching a movie, when Penelope suddenly paused it.

“Can I ask you a question?” She asks, setting the remote down.

“Yeah, what is it?” Spencer replies, furrowing his eyebrows.

“It’s about Y/n.” Penelope says, a slight look of regret on her face.

Spencer clears his throat, looking down, “Go ahead.” He says.

“Is there something you haven’t told us about her death? I’ve just noticed something weighing on you.” Penelope says.

Shock covers Spencer’s face. He hadn’t expected anyone to notice. He was on a team of profilers sure, but they weren’t supposed to profile each other.

He clears his throat again, “Yeah, um..” He begins, working up the courage to tell the story.

“I told you all that Y/n asked me to hold her hand. But after that she asked me a question. She asked me what my biggest regret in life was. I think she was giving me a chance to get something off my chest, because she knew she was dying.” Spencer says, a smile coming onto his face as he remembers how thoughtful you were.

“I told her that my biggest regret in life was not telling her how I felt about her.” Spencer continues, “And then she said she loved me, and I said it back. Then we kissed. Then she closed her eyes, I like to think that she wanted the last thing she saw to be my face, the happiest it’s ever been. Because it was. I’ve never been happier than in that moment.” Spencer says, his voice breaking and the tears falling freely.

Penelope envelops him in a hug, and he returns it. For the past 6 months, he’d been crying alone. It felt great to tell someone finally.

“Would you like to know something?” Penelope asks, breaking away from the hug to look Spencer in the eye.

“What?” Spencer asks, keeping his voice low in hopes it wouldn’t break again.

“I want to say it was a month after she came to the BAU, Y/n came into the tech room, nervously telling me how cute she thought you were. She finished by saying that she just enjoyed spending time with you, and that she always cherished your time together.” Penelope tells him.

Spencer smiles. He remembers the time he had that realization too.

You had brought him coffee one day, and you remembered just how he liked it. Spencer didn’t even remember telling you, so maybe you had just picked up on it.

“I really miss her.” Spencer confesses.

“I know honey, I miss her too.” Penelope replies.

After that, Spencer is a bit more open to the team.

One year

One year after your death, Spencer has a very bad day.

He has a nightmare the night before the one year anniversary of your death. The exact same events replay, but at the end, you tell him how much you hate him. How he couldn’t do anything to save you.

Spencer wakes up in a cold sweat, heavily breathing. He shakes himself, assuring himself it isn’t real.

He hasn’t had a dream like that in months, and it shakes him.

The team isn’t on a case thankfully, so Spencer picks up his phone, and calls Hotch.

“Yeah Reid?” Hotch answers on the second ring.

“Hey Hotch, could I take the day off today?” He asks, voice still sleepy.

“Yes, the entire team is actually taking the day off. It’s a hard day for us all, but I know especially for you.” Hotch says, the sympathy in his voice has been easier to pick up on nowadays.

“Thanks Hotch.” Spencer says, setting down the phone.

He sighs, and gets up to take a shower. His apartment is silent, a reminder of how his life feels without you.

After he gets out of the shower and puts on his clothes, Spencer is at a loss. He has no idea what to do that day.

Nothing feels nice enough to celebrate your life. That’s what he should be doing, right? That’s what you would want him to do, right?

Then, he has an idea.

Spencer grabs his keys, and heads out the door. He gets into his car, and begins to drive.

He arrives at the coffee shop that you two used to go to all the time. Spencer hasn’t been there in a year.

He clears his throat, and gets out of his car. He walks into the shop, the bell ringing, signaling he was there.

Spencer takes in the scene. He looks at the table where you always sat, telling anecdotes about your hometown. He smiles, you were always so talkative.

He walks up to the counter, and orders the coffee you used to always order. Spencer pays, and goes to sit down at your table.

He sits for a moment, remembering, something he’s been doing a lot. And then, his name is called for his drink.

Spencer smiles at the worker who hands him his drink, thanking them. He goes back to your table.

He sits there in silence, drinking his coffee. It’s nice, peaceful even. It felt good to remember you like this.

After Spencer finishes his drink, he stands up to leave. He presses his lips to his hand, and his hand to the table.

Three years

Three years after your death, Jackson Price is found dead.

It was a pretty normal day at the BAU, your death anniversary was coming up, but it seemed that everyone was more content nowadays.

Even Spencer was doing a lot better. He still thought about you often, but mostly good thoughts. His nightmares would only come back around your death date.

Hotch walks into the bullpen, “I need everyone in the briefing room. Now.” He says, walking up to the room already. The rest of the team follows

After everyone sits down, Hotch begins. “This is about Y/n.” He starts. Everyone goes quiet, you haven’t been brought up in a long time.

“Early this morning, a body was found in Southern California. The body has been ID’ed as Jackson Price.” Hotch says.

The room is somehow even more silent than it was before. The only sound is Spencer’s chair scraping the floor as he quickly walks out of the room.

“I’ll go talk to him.” Emily says, following Spencer out of the door.

Emily finds him in one of the many abandoned offices in the building.

She sits beside Spencer, pulling her chair close to his, “What’s the matter Reid? Isn’t this what you wanted?” Emily asks.

Spencer looks up at her, his facial expression difficult to tell because of the darkness of the room.

“That is what I wanted, Emily. But I wanted to be the one who did it. I wanted to shoot him just the way he did Y/n. I spent months looking for him, and I never found him.” Spencer says, shaking his head.

“You never told us that.” Emily says, frowning. Spencer grimaces.

“I didn’t want you all to think I couldn’t move on.” He explains in a low voice.

“Spencer. You have helped each and every one of us with personal vendettas over the years. We would’ve done the same thing in a heartbeat.” Emily tells him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t know, I guess my mind was clouded.” Spencer says, unsure of himself.

“Hey.” Emily says, wrapping Spencer in a hug. Spencer had been way more accepting of those in the past years. “We are all here for you.” Emily says, looking at him.

Spencer nods, his eyes watery, “Do you want to go back in there?” Emily asks him.

Spencer nods again, and they both stand up. When Spencer walks back into the briefing room, everyone gives him sympathetic looks, but not the ones they usually give. They give understanding looks. They’ve all mostly gone through similar things.

Spencer sighs, glad that his family is there for him.

Five years

Five years after you die, Spencer gets into a relationship.

It felt... weird that Spencer had feelings for someone else besides you. Before you died, he really wasn’t one for relationships. His work was too much, and it stopped him from making relationships outside of the FBI.

Then, after you died, he had another excuse. Whenever someone would ask him out, women tended to be more forward than him these days, he would tell them that his girlfriend had died. That he was still mourning the loss of her.

When he met his now girlfriend, Gianna, he had just told her that you were his girlfriend, and you had died in the line of duty.

It was too long of a story to explain that you weren’t actually dating, but the feelings and basically everything else was still there.

Gianna actually reminded him a lot of you. She was bubbly, held a good job, and understood him somewhat.

Gianna was a good person to have as your first girlfriend after a hard breakup, or loss. But something happens that makes Spencer realize that she is not a good fit.

It was around the 5 year anniversary of your death, and Spencer and Gianna had been together for maybe 6 months.

The one thing about Gianna, was that she was very needy. Spencer loved her, and he had expressed that quite recently. It was obvious that Gianna wanted to settle down soon.

It was obvious that Spencer wasn’t ready for that.

The dreams always came back around your death date, and Spencer had learned to deal with them.

But he didn’t know how to deal with them if someone else was around him.

Gianna was spending the night, it was late and Spencer offered. It wasn’t the first time they’d done this, but they weren’t living together by any means.

They were both asleep in Spencer’s bed, when Spencer had his dream. It was the same as it usually is, the exact same events of your death replay, but at the end you don’t tell him that you love him.

Spencer wakes up, head shooting up, and he wipes the sweat off of his forehead. He turns, and finds Gianna looking at him. A half-concerned, half- disgusted look is on her face.

“What was that about?” She asks Spencer.

“Oh, um, around her death date, I have nightmares about Y/n.” Spencer says softly. He only told the people on his team about his nightmares.

“Oh.” Gianna said, rubbing her eyes, “It’s been 5 years, I thought those would’ve gone away by now.” She said.

“I watched her die, Gianna.” Spencer says. He always got defensive when it came to you.

“I know, it’s just been a long time.” She explained, “Let’s go back to sleep bub” Gianna says, turning back over.

Spencer laid with his eyes open the rest of the night. He could never sleep after a nightmare with you in it.

Spencer broke up with Gianna shortly after that.

Ten years

Ten years after your death, Spencer visits your grave.

He brings you dandelions. You always said that they were your favorite flower. When Spencer brought up that they were actually weeds, and an invasive species, you said “That’s why I love them. They are outcasts, just like me.”

He smiles at the memory, something he did often.

Spencer thought it was sort of cheesy to talk at someone’s grave, until it came to you.

He decided today would be the first time he’d do it, he wanted to talk to you.

He sits down in front of your headstone, crisscross, and sets the flowers down. Then, he begins to talk.

“Hey Y/n. I think i’ve gotten to the point where I don’t cry when I think of you. I try to only think of good memories of you. God. I really miss you Y/n, I really fucking miss you. I miss the way you would tell me your thoughts on a case, or how you would explain your theories about TV shows. I miss having Harry Potter movie marathons with you. I don’t know. I just miss your energy. I’m glad I got to tell you how I feel Y/n. You deserved that much. A lot has happened since you’ve been gone, I wish you would’ve been there to see it. You could’ve helped me through a lot of it. Anyway, I’m rambling. I love you baby. Always have, and always will.”

And with that, Spencer presses a kiss to his hand, and presses his hand to your headstone.

~

@1800-fight-me @rachel-rebellio @itsarayofsunshine @cupcake525 @soupmakesmynoserun @elizabethkaylynn @drspencr @mattgraygubler @nanocoool @reid-187 @darling-doll9 @disney-dreams-world @myfavbau @softpeteparker @chaoticsteverogers @throughparisallthroughrome @whollytaciturn @imsuperawkward @pinkprincenamjoon @pprettyboyreid @peterparkurhs @thelimited-unlimited @agentsofblinks @reminiscing-writer @reidswords

[wait-atla-isnt-just-zukka]

So, sukka and Senna hcs becuase yes:

For a while after the war, Suki and Sokka spent most of their time apart. They weren’t really dating, but they weren’t exactly just friends either. They were in this kind of limbo where they dated in the past but they weren’t really together anymore but they never got closure but they also still had feelings for each other. Maybe they dated other people during this time, maybe they didn’t, but years later after everything had settled down a bit is when they really started to reconnect.

Sokka is living in the SWT where he helps his dad, when they run into some trouble with poaching as more people from outside the tribe come to visit. He calls up Suki and the Kyoshi Warriors (because I vote that the Kyoshi Warriors also help with environmental protection). So, Suki comes to the SWT for a bit, and it’s the most time she and Sokka have spent together in years. Honestly, it’s like they never spent any time apart. They’re laughing and talking like the old days, and it just feels right.

Eventually, the situation is resolved enough that Suki and the Kyoshi Warriors can leave, but neither she nor Sokka want to just go back to the limbo they’d been in before. So, a couple days before Suki is supposed to leave, they hang out. Both of them are nervous because they both want to ask the other to be a couple again, but they don’t know how. It’s difficult to ask your best friend that you used to date but never really broke up with that you want to date again.

Cue Sokka tripping over his words, saying something about how the sea is endless and even though the other shore is miles away, it’s still a part of the same sea and that’s kind of like them. Now, to any other person, this might sound completely incoherent, but Suki knows Sokka better than anyone, so (even though it takes her a minute) she gets it. She asks Sokka if this means he wants to date again, and he says yes, more than anything, In the next days before Suki’s departure, they come up with a plan to visit each other and to write letters.

Things progress fairly quickly from there. After all, they already dated once and never really broke up but kind of did and have been best friends for forever, so pretty soon they end up married. Sokka technically moves to Kyoshi Island, but he still spends a lot of his time at the SWT while Suki is traveling with the Kyoshi Warriors.

Sometime later, when they have Senna, things settle down a bit, and Suki doesn’t travel as much just because of the chaos of being a parent.

When Hakoda gets older, Sokka, Suki, and Senna start spending more and more time and the SWT until they’re practically living there. So, they move to the SWT, but still visit Kyoshi Island often, especially Suki. A couple years after that, Hakoda steps down, and Sokka is chosen as the new chief.

As Senna grows up, she mainly stays at the SWT, but her, Suki and Sokka, visit Kyoshi Island whenever Sokka can. Senna thinks the Kyoshi Warriors are the coolest people in existence, and always begs to go with Suki whenever she goes off on a mission with the Kyoshi Warriors. When Suki and Sokka say she’s too young, Senna grumbles to Sokka about how she never gets to do anything fun, and mom is so much cooler. She gets over it pretty fast though, when Sokka gets her her own play boomeraang. For a bit, Senna forgets about not being able to go with Suki as she pretends to be chief of the tribe who has to fight off the bad guys and protect the tribe. Sometimes, she’ll even pretend to be the next avatar, a waterbender who has to protect the world from falling into chaos. Eventually, when Senna is about twelve, Suki takes her on a mission.

If Senna has liked the Kyoshi Warriors before, after the mission, she fell in love with them. She got to see them in action, ambushing some bandits who had been causing havoc and torment. (It was a low risk mission, just the nail in the coffin for how much they’d already dismantled the band of bandits). Senna knew she wanted to be a Kyoshi Warrior.

So, she became one. Years later, when she grew up, she moved to Kyoshi Island and became a Kyoshi Warrior. She visits the SWT whenever she can, but eventually she starts to miss it and wants a quieter life, one where she’s not traveling around so much. So, she moves back.

There she meets Tonraq, who has just moved to the SWT. He’s captivated by her tales of being a Kyoshi Warrior, and she loves his stories about the NWT. They become good friends, and eventually start dating.

Suki and Sokka love Tonraq. When Sokka finds out Tonraq is a meat connoisseur like he is, Sokka cooks him all the SWT specialties while Tonraq cooks him the NWT ones. Suki interrogates him to make sure he’s a good fit for their daughter (but like, in a nice way).

Just, sukka and Senna being sukka’s daughter.

[magess]

Feels Theory

This is not an academic essay. But I’m trying to figure out how some people I know think the end of Supernatural was fitting and good and nothing to complain about and other people I know are so intensely upset and angry that they can’t sleep.

I’m dubbing it Feels Theory (cause it sounds like Field Theory). And it goes something like this: 

For a subset of viewers, the most important thing about an ending is the feelings it evokes in them when they watch it.

The valued feelings are: Sadness, Nostalgia, and Closure.

What they ultimately want is to let go, and this is the formula of feelings that allows for letting go.

I think Sadness may not actually be right. The SPN ending had sadness. But I propose that Happiness or Bittersweetness might also suffice, because what’s really happening there is not the quality of the emotion but the intensity of it. Feeling any of those things intensely is cleansing. You can have a good cry when you’re happy or sad. The point is the catharsis. 

So I’d like to amend that to: Intense Emotion, Nostalgia, Closure.

Nostalgia is actually an incredibly powerful emotion. If you look at JJ Abrams’s body of work, you might be tempted to think it’s the ONLY emotion. His movies are incredibly driven to create a sense of nostalgia in viewers as a means for deriving satisfaction, often at the cost of everything else. Nostalgia is wistful, happy, simple, yearning. It feels good. 

Moreover, it lowers anxiety and loneliness. And as we become more anxious and lonely as a society, the desire for this feeling only increases. https://thriveworks.com/blog/obsessed-nostalgia-psychologists/

Closure.  This seems self-explanatory, but a sense of closure is real. Resolving your feelings is as real in art as it is in other aspects of life. We want to feel like there’s nothing more to say, no more questions to ask, no further developments that we might miss if we look away. A direct quote from a fan post, “I think the thing I love so much about this finale is that it FEELS finished. I remember years ago Jared was talking about how if the boys lived he’d be like, “Well then what are they doing??” and I feel the same way.”

The 15x20 hits all these points.

Intense Emotion: Dean’s death scene, Sam’s mourning

Nostalgia: Pie, the Impala in heaven, Bobby waiting, Harvelle’s Roadhouse, just Sam and Dean, the monster of the week hunt, vampires, clowns

Closure: Dean died the way he thought he would, Sam had a family the way he thought he would, and they both die and go to heaven

What Feels Theory proposes is that it is not the content that matters. Therefore, if one could swap out different plot points but retain the same emotional beats, such an ending would also qualify as “good.” It would satisfy because the viewer would go through the same set of emotions, even though they are evoked by completely different circumstances.

Suppose the finale instead went something like this:

They are standing on the road in front of Jack, the new god. Dean asks if he’s coming back to the bunker and he says no. Dean looks pained and says there’s something he wants to ask. Jack smiles fondly at him and says that he knows and then looks over Dean’s shoulder. Cas says, “Hello, Dean” and Dean turns to see him, overcome with relief. One of several things could happen, ranging on the confirmation of Destiel desire: anything from a hug and a good to have you back to tearful kissing. Sam gets a text from Eileen and asks Jack if he could… Jack snaps his fingers and Sam appears next to Eileen for a tearful reunion of their own. Jack smiles to himself and disappears. 

Time passes.

Dean and Cas build by hand Singer’s Roadhouse. On the day it opens, Sam and Eileen announce they’re going to have twins. They want the rest to be a surprise, but they’re going to name them Charlie and Jo regardless. Sam stops hunting and instead works on reviving the Men and Women of Letters. In the Roadhouse, Dean sets a slice of pie in front of Cas and looks skyward. “You know kid, you can pop by and try some. Your dad’s been practicing.” He gives Cas a fond smile. The phone rings behind him and he turns to a bank of phones labeled CIA, FBI, Animal Control, Park Ranger. He picks up the FBI phone and leans against the bar near Cas, who has set the fork down and watches him seriously. “Hello? Yeah, this is Agent Kripke.” He meets Cas’s gaze. “What can I do you for?”

Such a series of events covers, at least, nostalgia and closure. It brings back names of old characters. It gives Sam a domestic life. It recalls the episode in which Dean ran a bar and was happy. It recalls the Roadhouse itself. It mirrors Bobby being the hub of hunter back-up. It lets Sam focus on intellectual pursuits. And there’s pie.

It covers closure. They have moved on from hunting. They have set up new lives and entered a new era. Jack isn’t going to be throwing new destinies at them. And while it may not be the closure of death, it’s a turning the page on a chapter of their lives.

Intense Emotion could be achieved any number of ways, depending on whether the goal was a full-length episode as a series coda. Perhaps there’s a scene of Dean moving out of the bunker to live someplace closer to the Roadhouse until it’s done. It’s a tearful goodbye while Sam stays behind and Dean takes his few possessions. Or maybe you go the happiness route. In which case, Sam’s babies being born and Dean holding one and smiling and Cas holding one and smiling and them looking at each other a little tearful would also fill that catharsis void. They talk about how they’re going to do things differently than what their dad did.

But the theory is that it’s not the content that ultimately matters if you’re a feels viewer. Anything that evokes nostalgia, closure, and strong cleansing emotion is sufficient for a “good” ending. And you are likely to accept any permutation of events without imagining a different permutation of events as better or correct or proper, because the feels themselves were correct and proper. 

Non-feels viewers, on the other hand, focus on narrative plot points. Their satisfaction is derived from what they feel is a logical progression of plot points and character beats. Whether any of those things evoke nostalgia or closure is less important than whether they see them as congruous. A good ending is one that is congruent. Where do their feels come into this? 

I don’t know. I’m still thinking about it. These viewers have loads of feels for sure, but the issues they raise as the reasons for their unhappiness are all congruency based. The cries are mostly that it “doesn’t make sense” or “ignores the last 10 years” or “leaves out all the character development” and not so much that it lacked intense emotion or a sense of closure. 

Their ability to engage with the emotional content seems contingent upon the congruency requirement. If congruence is broken, that dissonance becomes paramount and takes a place of primacy over whatever the emotional content is trying to evoke. 

Whether this is just a way to weasel around shipping lines, I’m not sure. Maybe? I do know that I’ve seen people I would not call casual viewers fall on the feels side. I’m trying to make sense of how long time fans who have watched every episode can seemingly have not watched the same show at all, as their response to the finale are diametrically opposed. 

Unfortunately, it’s not something one can really test, either. No show gets to end twice. So you can’t have a feels viewer watch two endings to see if both are good. 

[spirantization]

so i saw spider-youth because i live in a small town whose cinema gets like 20 people per screening max eyyyy

the spoiler-free version is that i loved it, lots of fun, would recommend if it's safe to see where you are, and i was quite happy that it was my first theatre-going experience in 2+ years.

spoiler thoughts under the cut:

are we absolutely sure that was a real movie and not a collective fever-dream

it's not even that it was the worst-kept secret because i don't think anything actually leaked, it's just that every single person who watched the trailer immediately said "lmfao yeah tobey and andrew are gonna be in it"

AND THEN THEY WERE

i loved it. A+. 10/10. 5 stars.

i was a teenager during tobey mcguire's era as spider-man and remember seeing them in them all in theatres (especially 3, in which there is a scene where spider-man jumps and lands in front of an american flag and the entire audience burst out laughing). informative media tbh. seeing tobey back as older, wiser, youth pastor spider-man was *chef's kiss*

and i ALSO love andrew garfield's awkward stalker ragey spider-man, and he was beautiful here. he got his 3rd spider-man movie. he got closure for gwen's death. he got to put a lab coat on over his spidey suit to show he is the Smartest. the amazing spider-man was amazing.

genuinely surprised with how much screen time they got. i thought it would be a cameo for each of them, that they'd show up for the fight at the end and a brief little heart to heart. i was not expecting, but was delighted to receive, them being major fixtures in half the runtime.

oh yeah and the matt murdock cameo was fun too. honestly i'm shocked he still has a law practice

andrew spider-man catching mj, and then almost bursting into tears, was the greatest emotional beat of the movie. he couldn't save gwen but he saved mj. baby's first parallels. i want to reblog 500 gifsets of that scene.

i actually thought for a second they were going to kill off tobey spidey and i was prepared to be so sad. but then my man was like "oh don't worry lol i've been stabbed before nbd"

plot what plot. no one cares about the plot. we are strictly about the spider-men being brothers in this house

okay one plot thing: so all the villains were grabbed from their universes mere moments before their death... and then got cured in this universe... and then got sent back exactly where they came from... to immediately die... it's a little dark guys

i'm sorry peter parker is contractually obligated to lose one (1) parental figure on screen per trilogy

i think the ending was the strongest thing they could have done for spider-man at this point in time. i love tom holland as peter parker, but one of my biggest complaints about this iteration was that they were making him iron man 2.0. he had the fancy suits and the tech and the backing of the avengers, and it all felt really wrong. spider-man isn't about having nanotechnology, it's about a friendly neighbourhood spider-man who makes a suit in his bedroom and goes out to fight crime because he has a responsibility to help people. returning peter parker to those roots was 100% the smartest thing they could have done. sorry nobody knows who you are anymore peter, but narratively it was your best option. i don't know whether tom holland will come back as spider-man in some form, but if he does, this feels more like where he's supposed to be.

plus dr. strange can cast another spell to make people remember peter in about 5 minutes if they want him back. the stakes don't carry over from movie to movie. they're made up.

this movie is probably going to make 500 billion dollars and i'm not surprised. how often can you take three actors from three different spider-man trilogies, all made within the last twenty years, put them in one movie, validate all of them and tell everybody everything is completely canon? they captured lightning in a bottle with this one.

[scullydubois]

Only the Light Ch. 14

14/? | AU where Melissa moves in with Scully after Scully’s abduction | angst, msr slow-burn, occasional fluff | currently: early 1995 (Humbug adjacent) | T | 5k | previous chapters | read on ao3 | tagging: @today-in-fic <3

As the new year beckons Scully to put her life back together, she and Mulder share a Valentine's 'anti-date' on the Hoover Building rooftop.

TW for brief discussion of disordered eating.

--------------

The new year struck Scully with a particular melancholy. 1994 was, to put it plainly, one of the worst--if not the worst--year of her life. Even without her disappearance, it would earn that title. Her father’s untimely passing and the brief but brutal closure of the X-Files wrenched the few good things left from her fingers. Factor in the four weeks in late summer that she has no memory nor knowledge of, and you’ll understand why Scully has taken to calling it her year on the dark side of the moon.

Of course, the aftershocks of her abduction are still felt every day. Flipping the calendar does nothing to remedy that. At her last appointment, Dr. Zapolsky noticed that Scully’s weight had decreased rather sharply from previous visits and made the point that “rapid weight loss can stop ovulation,” which Scully interpreted as kicking her while she was down. That’s not exactly fair, after all. Technically, her period stopped well before she decided to restrict herself. 

It’s odd how it happened. Her weight was fine before her abduction; slender but within the healthy range for her height. Even when she was returned, it had only dropped a couple pounds, as if they fed her...as if they cared. She found that hard to believe. In the months afterward, she sought a physical representation of her mental anguish, and since she and food were never on the best terms to begin with, the choice was simple.

The other day, she had to punch an extra hole in all her belts to hold them steady on her hips. She knows the consequences of this; she’ll live them and accept it. 

There has been some beneficial progress. Dr. Zapolsky started Scully on low-dose birth control around Thanksgiving, hoping that it would balance her hormones and regulate her periods. It has, in fact, brought back her cycle, something that Scully did not expect. She gave Melissa her leftover tampons in October. Now Melissa buys enough for the two of them and insists that Scully doesn’t owe her a dime. Scully is too grateful for this to speak about it.

Her downward spiral reached a snag when she realized that smoking would make her birth control ineffective, shortly after her and Mulder’s Christmas Eve smoke break. She ditched the cigarettes, mad at herself for taking a month to read the disclaimer (she’s a doctor for god’s sake, she should know better!), yet glad to have an out. Smoking was a habit she exercised because she could. It won’t hurt her anytime soon, and millions of others do it, so where’s the harm? That was her thinking. As soon as she had a reason to stop, she did, and it felt a bit like jumping from a runaway train just before it skids off the tracks. 

So she is better, and she is worse. Which really means she is the same as she was. That is the conclusion she carries into 1995’s frosts and thaws. 

There is one thing she is certain of, something that she hadn’t given much thought to until the one year anniversary of her father’s death. She needs her faith back. She’s always practiced in a cyclical pattern, her devoutness orbiting in and out like the moon around the Earth. Sometimes closer and brighter, sometimes farther away, sometimes nowhere to be found.

She has to believe it will come back; it always does. She was made in God’s image, and her father’s. This is both a blessing and a curse.

But no one can be God, and she can’t be her father either. His faith never wavered. If hers was the moon--fickle and subject to doubt--his was the sun, steady and warming everything around it. This was a quality she was envious of, and then guilty in her blasphemy. She has never managed to feel completely content inside the bounds of piety like he could. She’s constantly shaking the devil off her back, then repenting for it, then wondering if it were all worth it. What if...what if...what if...she isn’t fully persuaded in her beliefs, and she knows that this is the worst sin of all. Like Mulder though, she wants to believe, and shouldn’t that count for something?

Imperfection is allowed. Understood, even. Doubt is not as permissible. “He who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind,” the Bible says. Sometimes Scully takes that to mean she should walk into the ocean. Then she realizes that would be blasphemous too. 

Some people believe without trying. Her father was one of those. Mulder too, in a different way. She used to think that she was too. Now she’s not so sure. “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” How many times has she read that line? Has she ever lived up to it? She’s seen and still not believed. Certainly that means she’s going to Hell.

Or is she already there?...She wonders that sometimes. Maybe she didn’t make it back from the other side. Maybe the devil just wanted her to believe that she had, and so he’d constructed some kind of diorama of Scully’s life that would go wrong bit by bit, boiling her like a gradually heated bathtub. No resting in peace for the unbeliever.

She can’t imagine a worse punishment than all the potentially good things in her life getting dismantled beyond her control. She’d rather never experience them at all than know their joy then watch them fall apart. Missy would kill her if she heard this, but you can’t please everybody.

It is at this point that Scully embarks on her chosen method of religious self-flagellation: going through the Ten Commandments and determining whether she’s violated them. Count up your sins and God won’t have to; practically the tagline of the Catholic faith.

She thinks she does okay with the first few. She has no idols, she honors her mother and father, and Mulder knows not to call her on Sunday mornings. Of course, the part about not taking the Lord’s name in vain can be tricky, but she’s working on it. 

Number five is where it gets dicey. Thou shalt not kill. She imagines that she wouldn’t, not on purpose, but the circumstances of her job worry her. God makes no exceptions for self-defense. And what if she were ever to be a true doctor? If she couldn’t save a patient, does that mean she killed them? 

Her father was in the Navy. He never killed anyone.

Number six...well, she doesn’t mention that often. Few people know about Daniel. Missy is one. Scully harbors a genuine shame regarding that time in her life, not so much because of Daniel, but because she was complicit in hurting his wife and daughter. It was a young, foolish mistake that she never wants to make again. 

She feels pretty good about number seven. The only thing she has ever stolen is one of Charlie’s matchbox cars when they were kids. She was uninterested in Missy’s hand-me-down Barbies and Raggedy Ann dolls. The boys’ toys were much cooler. She trusted the Lord enough to know that He wouldn’t hold something she did when she was seven against her. Besides, she gave it back when Charlie figured out it was missing. She just wishes he had let her play with him after that.

Number eight: thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor. She considers honesty one of her best qualities. She sure hopes God does too. She’s not the most open person, but that’s different from lying…

Nine is a lost cause, considering six had been broken. This was her least favorite part of her family’s religion: the power it had to cause her shame about her own body, her own desires. She had her first crisis of faith over this at age 14. Missy comforted her with something she has never forgotten: “The original sin was the serpent’s deception, not Eve’s desire. Even God pins it on the woman.” She knew her sister could only say that because she didn’t truly believe and wasn’t trying to, but it had stuck with Scully through many moments when she needed it. 

And finally, thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods. She supposes she did this with the matchbox cars when she was seven, but in literal terms that’s about it. Metaphorically, she does this all the time and struggles with why she feels so inadequate. Her sister’s confidence, Mulder’s tenacity, her father’s faith...The ideal Dana Scully would have all of these. The real one is a work in progress.

--------------------

So it goes that she finds herself prepping a case in the office on Valentine’s Day. Mulder’s scheduled to fly to Florida the next morning to investigate attacks in a community of circus performers. He’s convinced it’s the Fiji Mermaid, she’s convinced he needs to get his head checked; the usual. This is one comfort Scully can always rely on. No matter how utterly twisted her life gets, she will always think Mulder is crazy, and he will always go along with it. 

The occasion of the day goes unmentioned until what Mulder lovingly refers to as “closing time,” which is not a specific time but rather the point that he finally gives up for the day, usually hastened by his partner’s prodding. Scully has learned the signs of his dwindling tenacity by now. She glances at the clock as he pulls his glasses off his head and tosses a sunflower seed in the wastebasket, pleasantly surprised that it reads only 5:15. He catches her checking, his eyes--amber today--meeting hers.

His lips curl in amusement. “You got a date or something?” 

“No,” she blinks, feeling like a child caught taking a cookie from the jar. Her cheeks grow hot, threatening to make a scene. “I figured you did, since you’re finishing up so early.”

Mulder straightens his stack of papers, clinking them against the desk obnoxiously. “Think again, buckaroo.”

He’s taken to calling her that lately. Neither one of them is sure why, it just popped into his mind one day and stuck. It makes her feel like a heroine in some 70s Western shoot-out flick who wrangles all the bad guys and locks’em in the county jail. She’s thankful that someone can see her for what she could be rather than what she is. It helps her see that too. 

He stuffs his papers in a manila folder, then rises from behind the desk and stoops toward the backpack he prefers to a briefcase. (She called him a kindergartener once because of it and he remarked that he’d ‘rather be a kindergartener than an adult.’ She couldn’t argue with that.) “Valentine’s Day isn’t really observed under the Fox Mulder calendar,” he says, unzipping the bag and putting the folder in. “Halloween and Thanksgiving, those are my holy days.” 

“You worship at the shrine of the food pyramid,” Scully smirks. 

“Yes indeed. Wait--” Scully’s gaze flicks to him, genuinely concerned. He dissolves her uncertainty with a boyish grin. “--does the food pyramid include candy?”

She rolls her eyes, but it’s not deeply felt. She misses these flat-lining comedic routines of his, usually at their best when they’re putzing through some tumble-weed town where the bathroom stalls at the gas station don’t lock. He loves being the funniest person in a ten-mile radius, and that’s not a satisfaction he can have in DC. She wonders if he tells these lame jokes to strangers now, or if they were just for her. 

“Speaking of food,” he says, brushing a hand through his hair, “you wanna grab dinner?”

Scully’s forehead creases. “Like, in a restaurant?”

“I mean, I wasn’t gonna be that forward, but I guess we could take it to yours or mine...”

Scully laughs lightly, wrapping her arms around herself, fingers caressing her bony elbows. “We’ve already covered what day it is,” she demures. “Everyone having dinner is going to be on a date.”

“You’re right...the restaurant probably won’t let us in unless we make out in front of the hostess,” he deadpans. 

“Not to mention that we don’t have any reservations…”

“Well, making out might remedy that, depending on the hostess.”

She gives him her ‘last straw’ look--crossed arms, arched eyebrow, stinging glare--and he raises his hands in surrender. “I’ll stick to slipping a twenty, then.”

Scully uncrosses her arms and slinks toward her purse rather languishly. “No restaurants, Mulder. It’s too much trouble on a holiday.”

“I sure hope you didn’t mistake my suggestion as an invitation to Mulder’s Downhome Country Kitchen, cause that place is not Michelin star rated.”

“I’m well aware. I’ve seen the menu.”

“Is Chateau de Scully open tonight?” he asks with an eyebrow raise that his partner couldn’t have missed if she tried--and she did. 

“Well, the chef is celebrating Valentine’s Day with her girlfriend in Oregon, so you’d be waiting awhile for your meal.”

“There’s no back-up chef? I don’t know, someone who may need to feed herself while the chef is away?”

“Yes, but she doesn’t serve the public.”

“Ouch.”

He plucks their respective coats off the rack, folding his own over his arm and throwing his partner’s over her shoulders. She jumps just the tiniest bit--she probably thinks he didn’t notice, so he’ll pretend he didn’t--then slips her arms in the sleeves and pulls it on properly.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, avoiding eye contact.

After he’s put his own jacket on, he hoists up his backpack, fielding off his partner’s near swerve into laughter. She’s barely maintaining a straight face, and even if it’s at his expense, he loves it because unadulterated joy is something she deserves so much. 

“You know what, I’ve got just the solution,” he says as he strolls out the doorway, flipping the light switch as he goes, leaving Scully scrambling in the dark. 

“Hey!” 

He hears her petulant voice, followed quickly by the laugh he was looking for. When she turns to him after locking the office door, her eyes are still shining from the momentary euphoria. He is so happy to know her.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this place is the Smithsonian of vending machines.”

“Mm-hm.”

“And I know a door to the rooftop that never gets locked.” He flashes her a sly look, his intentions pure despite himself. 

“It’s 40 degrees outside,” she counters before he can even voice his proposal.

“Sure, but we can make some fresh coffee, and there’s gotta be blankets in that storage closet of ours.” Ours. Very few things are theirs. She wishes he would say it again.

As much as her instinct is to protest, she can’t quite muster the resolve to. I mean, it checks all the boxes. It’s not a restaurant, she’d only have to eat a snack from the vending machine, and she wouldn’t have to spend Valentine’s night alone, which is a sneaky sadness that had been pressing at the back of her mind.

“Fine,” she bluffs, as if it were a great inconvenience to her. She enjoys the cat-and-mouse game, what can she say? “You find the blankets, I’ll get the coffee.”

Mulder smiles, his lips edging over his teeth in an aesthetically pleasing way that makes Scully feel like he missed his calling as a male model. Of course, this smile isn’t posed. The constant in his life is his partner’s unpredictability. Everyone thinks she’s a stone-cold skeptic, but he knows she’s an uncertain believer, and there’s no one harder to pin down than that. Her yes to his Valentine plans may as well be an admission that Bigfoot exists. 

“Let’s meet by the sixth floor stairwell, okay?” he prompts, laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Flashes of Christmas Eve sabotage her thoughts--her mother’s kitchen, her untidy tipsiness, Mulder just trying to iron things out. He’d touched her, and she’d lashed out at him. Reaction formation, that was the term for the defense mechanism she’d used. He knew it, probably studied it extensively. Concealing an impulse by acting out its opposite.

Instead of mentioning this, she looks him in the eyes and says, “Okay, I’ll use the coffee machine on the sixth floor then,” as if his touch hadn’t brought forth both memory and desire. 

“Great. See you there.” He pulls finger guns, and she thinks that maybe this is already her best Valentine’s Day yet.

----------------------

Five stories of stairs is a long way to go with two hot mugs of coffee. Scully had hoped there would be some styrofoam cups--something she could put a lid on--but the Bureau is stingy, so she had to go all the way back to the basement, grab their coffee mugs, take the elevator back to the sixth floor, brew some dark roast (to Mulder’s probable discontent), then hope that by some miracle, they could make it to the roof. 

Ever the idealist, Mulder takes the challenge in stride. Though his arms are already bundled with some comforters he found tucked away in storage (he shudders to think how old they must be), he takes the handle of his mug, squeezing the blankets snug against his chest. 

“Are you sure about this?” his partner asks with her usual uneven tone. “What if we get all the way up there and the door is locked?”

“We knock and get the snipers to open the door for us,” he answers matter-of-factly.

Scully’s eyebrows shoot up. “Snipers?”

“Oh yeah, did I forget to mention? There’s a longstanding rumor about snipers on the roof that I’d like to get to the bottom of.”

His demeanor is just loose enough to make Scully question whether he is in fact kidding. A conversational casualness permeates all of his sensational soliloquies because to him, the phenomena he’s discussing should be regarded as a fact of the world. If he ever launched into an indifferent lecture on the subject, she’d know he was bluffing.

Having never heard the rumor herself, she decides this is simply a figment of his overactive imagination. She’ll play along. “Well, if it’s anything like the talk of you being spooky, then it doesn’t look good for us…” she teases, her own smirk eliciting an identical one from her partner. 

Masking his impatience by embodying the role of the gentleman, Mulder uses his free hand to prop open the stairwell door, ushering his partner through. The landing of each story has one stray light bulb, there for show more than anything. Most of them are either flickering or burned out, the agents discover as they inch their way up, one slowly taken step at a time. Step, pause for the coffee to settle, hope it doesn’t breach its container, step: that’s the process they adopt for approximately 100 steps in the cold Hoover stairwell. There are many ways to show love; Mulder bets that you wouldn’t find this in any lame self-help book. 

“Do you think Romeo would have done this for Juliet?” he muses.

“Depends on what he was expecting once they made it to the top,” Scully quips, the edges of her lips turning up slightly.

Mulder nods, perpetually amused by her (too) infrequent jaunts into suggestive territory. “My man really got ahead of himself with the whole ‘dying for her’ schtick.” 

“You’re one to talk.” 

Mulder eyes her. “Actually, I think it was you who was going to die for me.”

“Not for you, because of you.” Her statement is neither packed with malice nor free of blame. “There’s a difference.”

She may as well have shot him at point blank range; then at least she could see the bleeding. She didn’t mean to be so blunt, but he gave her the perfect setup. Mulder cauterizes his own wound, disguising his pain as a joke. “Damn, I was finally moving past that!”

“At least one of us was,” she says, her voice fluttering, and he knows she’s just teasing, but god, what if she’s cauterizing her own hidden wounds?

They reach the door labelled ‘roof,’ and Mulder can’t decipher what happens first, him putting his hand on the door handle or her placing a chilly hand on his cheek. Playing it back in his head later on he won’t even be able to figure it out-- it cut time loose from its axes in such a way. 

“Are you okay, Scully?” He’s not sure why this is the first question out of his mouth, but it is.

“I need a hand warmer,” she murmurs. “The coffee’s already cooling off.”

All the while, Mulder is acutely aware that her hand’s still on his cheek and she’s got him propped against the door, and what does she want him to do with that information?

Her thumb grazes his mole, and it becomes clear to him that there are two ways this scenario could go, and if she doesn’t want the second one it’s imperative that she stop rubbing rhythmic circles into his skin.

He clears his throat. “Do you want to...do you want me to check for snipers?” Her touch continues, uninterrupted. 

“Is the door unlocked?” Her voice sounds airy and far away. She probably didn’t even hear his question. 

He pushes on the handle, confirming their freedom. “Yes ma’am,” he answers, fear of a sort edging him into total politeness. He is twelve tiptoeing through the too empty halls of his house, again.

“Let’s have a picnic,” she says, still light and airy, as if that weren’t the plan the entire time. Then, she breaks into sudden laughter, pulling her hand away from Mulder’s cheek in her fit. “We forgot the food!” 

She is back to normal now, his steadfast Scully with a side of joy. 

Half of him mourning for the otherworldly Scully and the moment that could have been, he laughs too. “There may have been some lapses in planning.”

“We can make do, can’t we?” There’s a glimmer in her eyes that suggests the moment is not as far gone as he believed.

“Cold coffee sounds like an enduring Valentine’s tradition,” he affirms.

They choose not to dwell on words like “enduring” and “tradition,” entering the chill of the Hoover Building rooftop on Valentine’s night. 

------------------

They’re not that far above the city really--the Hoover’s no NYC skyscraper--but their heads are in the clouds, that’s for sure. It’s not the typical dinner date complete with melted candles and overpriced dessert and overly attentive waiters, but as it turns out, they would both hate that. After all, this is not a date, it’s a casual hangout between two coworkers who don’t have dates on Valentine’s Day. If anything, it’s an anti-date. That’s what they tell themselves.

February’s unrelenting chill swirls around them, catching Scully’s hair in playful tantrums and turning the two of them into life-size paperweights atop the blankets. More sensible people may call the night a bust, but not the Prince of Halloweentown and his esteemed guest. This unconventional adventure is exactly what they bargained for.

Scully looks to Mulder, who’s holding his coffee like it’s a beer. She smiles. That is so him.

She exhales, and her breath spells itself out on the air. She tilts her face to the sky, as if the sun might suddenly rise and bask her in its heat. Mulder notices and fixes his attention there too, happy to have an excuse to look skyward. It’s his outlet, like hers is the sea her father dedicated his life to. His preferred escape method is to fly away; hers is to drift off.

He forces himself back into the moment, here, with her, and the expanse of the sky. “I once spent fifty bucks on one of those ‘name a star’ certificates, and I can’t even see it because of the goddamn light pollution.”

“I think that’s really more about the gesture than anything else,” Scully replies, trying to soothe him as if this were actually a pressing problem. “Unless you bought it for yourself...?”

Mulder chuckles. “No, no. It was for an old girlfriend.”

Scully raises her eyebrows in amusement. “Did you name it after her?”

“No, we named it the Rhine star.”

A puzzled look passes between them. It gives him a twinge of joy that his partner is not the encyclopedia she seems to be. 

“After Joseph Banks Rhine, the founder of parapsychology,” he clarifies. “We were both fascinated by the field.”

“Oh.” She turns her face back toward the sky with the feeling of a kid who missed the winning word of the spelling bee. There are times when she is grateful she does not know everything, and times when she is not. Somehow, this is both. 

“I’ve thought about buying another one and naming it after Samantha,” Mulder continues, “but it feels too much like a grave marker.”

“I’d consider it a lovely tribute,” Scully counters, used to doing so. “But I’m thirty and I own my own gravestone, so take that with a grain of salt.”

It’s true--once Dana was returned, her mother couldn’t bear to look at the gravestone she’d had engraved in memory of her missing daughter, so she gave it to Mulder, who saw no logical place for it to go except the woman whose name it bore. Margaret hadn’t wanted her to know that it existed, that they’d gotten so far as considering her gone. While it brought Mulder no joy to present it to his partner, it served as a reminder of the miracle her survival was, and in such bleak times, they had both needed that. 

“It doesn’t scare me--the thought of dying,” Scully says to the stars. Mulder wonders if she meant for him to hear it. He wishes he hadn’t, but he’s met with the realization that she is trying to start a conversation when her eyes look into his.

He doesn’t know where to go with this, so he toes the line between deep and sarcastic. “I thought Catholics were all about that heaven and hell stuff.”

“Yes, but…” where is the line between truth and blasphemy, she wonders? Settling herself, she starts over. “I’ve lived both on Earth, so what have I got to fear?” She turns her glance to the blanket, as if shrinking out of the Lord’s sight. “Besides, sometimes I think I’m already there.” 

“Heaven?”

“No, Hell.”

He should have known. He grips the edge of his blanket, wondering why his parents had prioritized the sex talk but never explained what to do in a situation like this. He has a psychology degree, sure, but he’s as much a psychologist as she’s a physicist. 

“There are periods of life, I think, where everyone feels like that,” he says in the most earnest voice he can conjure. “It’s just that nobody ever talks about it.”

“Did you feel like that with Samantha?” 

Leave it to Scully to turn a personal conversation back on him.

He bites his lip. “Yeah, yeah, I did. Still do, if I think about it too long.”

“How did you...move past it?” The lights of nearby buildings reflect off her blue eyes, galaxies to his black holes. He’d give anything to sluice the pain right from her heart. 

He’ll rely on his words instead, despite knowing there are depths they cannot touch. “I, uh, I didn’t really move past it, I just moved. Kept moving, I guess. I found a place where I could make progress out of my pain. Here--the X-Files.”

Scully swallows hard, knocking back tears. "That’s the issue. I feel stuck. Just completely unable to go forward. There’s a current in my brain that keeps pushing me backward.”

Mulder lets out a deep breath, trying to take both their pain with it. “Have you considered seeing a therapist?” he asks delicately. “It sounds like you may have PTSD.”

“Over what?” she practically snaps. “I don’t remember a thing.”

“That doesn’t mean you have no memories. Regression hypnosis could help recover repressed or unconscious memories, so you could understand exactly what’s bothering you.”

“You think I haven’t heard this spiel from Melissa?”

“I bet Melissa doesn’t have first-hand experience with it.”

“No, she doesn’t,” she murmurs in the tone of an apology. She knew that he had it, she had listened to the tapes. How could she let it slip her mind? It is uncouth of her to look down on his chosen method of healing.

Mulder isn’t bothered. He continues, “It helped me. Both in recalling the details of the experience, and in having a recorded recollection of it. It helped me feel less...insane.”

“Mmm.” If he were just a bit closer, she’d reach out and touch his hand.

“If anything, I wish I did it earlier.”

Scully’s understanding of him sharpens, like an ophthalmologist flipping the lens, making her vision clearer. Her gaze probes him, mutual souls recognizing mutual pain. 

“Hey.” He uses his extended wingspan to touch her shoulder with the care an older sibling would show holding their baby brother for the first time. She turns her head, their faces mere inches away from each other. His eyes are a dopey brown, his breath scented with coffee.

“Yes?” she says with a coquettish flitting of her eyelashes. 

“You should come back out on the road. I could use someone to shoot down all my wild whims.”

She can’t help but smile, though she keeps her mouth closed. “Tired of telling jokes to strangers who don’t laugh, are you?”

He smirks. “Well, yeah, that too.” He leans back a bit, putting enough distance between them to keep the sparks in check. “Of course, if you’re not ready, there’s no pressure. I just think you could use the change of scenery and--you know--companionship.”

She nods, looks out into the night. He’s got the pulse of her problems and the salve that could soothe them. “You’re right.” How often does he get to hear those beautiful words come out of her mouth? “I need to get out of my cocoon, and I think I’m okay enough to do that now.”

“Yeah?” There’s a twinkle in his eyes, something like hope.

She laughs--catharsis manifest--and it’s like a sheen of light coming through a crack in her jagged surface. “Yeah, Mulder. I’ll make the arrangements with Skinner.”

He pumps his fists in the air. “Hallelujah!” 

She hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her. Any stray thoughts she had of him being lonely she chalked up to her own delusions. 

“Florida is probably a lost cause,” she notes, “but after that…”

He nods, pats her shoulder. “After that.”

To have her back meant something like freedom. The X-Files had never been anything without her. He had never been anything without her.