#on the other hand it is pretty scary or at least disquieting

[wall-maria-around-ba-sing-se]

totally just spitballing here but I feel like it might be because Z was actually posed as a threat for a lot of the game and so the difference between his implied threat and his actual threat is disappointing;

meanwhile Luxar has a ballasack neck for the entire game, talks like a Saturday morning cartoon villain, and flip flops between cutscenes on whether or not he actually believes in the “human DNA is poison” legend that his entire anti-human crusade is based on

Kind of baffles me that people think Z is the worst Xenoblade main antagonist when this guy exists.

[yoondoze]

make a wish | jjk - 2

jeongguk didn’t know it, but his wish came true. as the best things in life do, it comes back around.

alternatively: a compilation of scenes in the after of “make a wish” and how they pile up and weigh you down until it’s too much to handle.

pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader

word count: 6.4k

genre: angst, fluff, romance, best friend!au, mutual pining... shh

warnings: language. besides that, this is pretty tame! only slightly edited bc its 2 in the morning and i just want to get this up lol

a/n: didn’t mean for this to be so long but i got a little carried away. this wraps up make a wish, so i hope you guys like it! also, feedback is always appreciated in any way shape or form <3 muah!

It’s just as you’re leaving when Jeongguk’s phone rings. His eyes widen in disquiet as he stares at the number displayed at the top of his phone. In preparation, he shakes out his limbs dramatically and takes a deep, exaggerated breath. Considering it’s for your entertainment, you roll your eyes and wave him on.

He picks up.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other end is muffled as you try your best to listen in. Your heart pounds in anticipation, gripping onto the straps of your purse with white knuckles.

“Yeah. Okay. Okay, great.”

He paces around the room aimlessly. His fingers fiddle with a loose thread on his sweatpants as he listens closely. You’re sure he’s already sweating, more nervous than you could imagine despite the playful act he put on before answering.

“Yeah. That’s fine! Okay, thank you so much. Alright, bye.”

He’s facing away from you as he clicks the end call button. Just as you’re about to ask, he spins on his heel, lips pursed as he holds back a grin.

“Guess who got the job?”

A toothy grin spreads across his face as he singsongs. Jeongguk’s expression of pure excitement is a privilege to see. It’s impossible to deny how it lights up your own.

“Oh my god, you got the job?”

“I got the job!”

His bangs bounce as he jumps with both fists raised in glory. You squeal, going in for a tight hug and swaying back and forth as you congratulate him.

“I’m proud of you, Gguk,” you say into his shoulder. “Really, I am.”

And when you say it, you mean it. After so many months of struggling at his old company, he took the leap and applied for a position at a more well-known film studio. The late night introduction practices with you, which included him reciting prepared resume-esque lines and weeks of tiring interviews had paid off like you knew he deserved it to.

“Okay. I should get home,” you try, voice strained as his arms crush your diaphragm like walls in a deadly escape room. Upon hearing your winded sentence, he loosens his grip.

You don’t even think about what it might mean before you place a departing kiss to Jeongguk’s cheek, fueled by the elation running through you at the upward turn of events. It’s an accident, it just happens naturally as if it was something you’ve done a thousand times. It only hits you that you shouldn’t have after it’s already done.

Sure, you make out and kiss all the time, but the difference is that’s only when you’re taking advantage of the benefits you worked out. That kissing is all attraction, nothing chaste or romantic like this. So when you pull away from the hug, you expect to see his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and giving you a look of disgust.  

“Uh-” you sputter, ever a wordsmith, trying to think of some rational explanation to excuse why you might have kissed him like that. The previous bouts of joy sparking in your heart fly out the window.

However, his eyes only show a mild, innocent surprise. At his silence, it doesn’t seem like he’s going to address it, and you assume he’ll assume it was just congratulatory. You can work with that.

“Bye. I’ll text you when I get home,” you blurt as untroubled as it can come, spinning on your heel and hurrying out the door. After closing it behind you, you slump back against it for a breath.

God, what were you thinking? Were you fucking stupid? Your fingers find your forehead finds as you try to convince yourself it wasn’t that bad. You’re prone to over analyzing, anyway. Jeongguk’s too occupied to think about it like that. He just got his new job, he has a thousand new things to worry about. He won’t read into it. If he does, he’ll think of it as a heat of the moment sort of thing.

Right?

Inside, Jeongguk pauses, staring at where you were standing just a second ago and scratches the back of his neck. The corners of his mouth turn up slowly. 

He finds himself checking his phone every five minutes for a text from you, which never comes.

☆☆☆

At the end of the day, it was your fault. 

It was your thoughtless action that made Jeongguk think that incorporating romantic gestures like that into your relationship could still be platonic. You rocked the boat with that one, but it wasn’t enough to completely capsize your vessel, and for that you were grateful. 

Still, your heart now tore itself into smaller and smaller pieces every time he kissed you goodbye or grabbed your hand to swing it back and forth or wrapped his arm around you after cleaning up. 

“By the way,” he says, tossing you one of his shirts from his place in front of his dresser. He pulls on a clean pair of boxers as you cover up. “There’s this work dinner I have to go to next week for networking and stuff, and it’s a buffet-type thing so they charge you for a spot. But, I found out that there is a couple’s discount and was wondering if maybe… you’d want to come with me?”

The hopeful sparkle in his eyes is one you just can’t ignore. Doing so would feel like a one-way ticket to hell, the only valid consequence for such a rotten crime.

“Yeah, sure.”

His smile at your compliance takes away all the apprehension you might have had, at least for a second. He wears it like a medal.

“Okay, good. I have to talk to a lot of people so I’d just feel better if you were there.”

Your brows draw together as you watch him get dressed. “But Gguk, you’re good at talking to people,” you say, going as far as to admit teasingly, “You’re fairly charming.”

He laughs, hopping into his slacks. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I don’t freak out inside. It’s scary!” The dark brown mop of hair atop his head jostles into his eyes as he adds, “There’s gonna be a lot of well-known people there so it’s my chance to make some connections.”

Despite that, you’re sure he’ll be just fine. By nature, Jeongguk is inviting and easy to talk to. That is one of the reasons why you became such fast friends, and probably why you lasted so long. Along with his agreeable presence, his captivating looks probably wouldn’t hurt in striking up a deal either, though you’d never say that to his face.

“What’s the dress code?”

“Semi-formal I think?” He says, looking out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t know what that constitutes in terms of dresses but…”

A certain memory tugs at the back of his head. He considers just leaving it there, maybe slightly sentimental for his usual image, but what’s the harm in bringing it up?

“Do you remember the dress you wore for my brother’s graduation dinner? The blue one?”

You, on the other hand, are just surprised he remembers something like that. It must have been years ago by now. Still, it’s a good memory. It was a breezy evening by the shore to celebrate his brother’s graduation from college. The dinner was nice, but the best part was when you and Jeongguk ended up sneaking off to go sit on the beach later on in the night.  

Jeongguk is intertwined into nearly every lasting memory you make. It’s hard to imagine a world where he isn’t a part of each story you retell or each thought that crosses your mind.

“Oh, yeah, of course. It’s probably buried in my closet somewhere.” 

He’s relieved you don’t question him.

You might have to do some digging when you get home to find it, but you definitely still have it. It’s not like you have the money to be purchasing new semi-formal dresses for every occasion.

“That would be good. Or something like it, I don’t know.” He finishes buttoning up his shirt and tugs on the cuffs to straighten them out. His reflection in the mirror sends you a beaming smile, at this point accepting how his heart rate seems to spike every time he sees you in one of his shirts nowadays. He’s gotten very good at lending them to you casually.

He continues after a glance at the clock tells him he’s been letting his time with you slip on for more time than he can afford even though he wishes he could stay. “Anyway, I have to get going so make sure you lock the door behind you when you leave.” And then he’s padding out the door, car keys jingling in his hand as he picks them up from the dish on the kitchen counter.

“Oh, and Y/N?” He pokes his head around the hallway entrance to see you. “There’s coffee out here for you when you want it.”

He dashes off before you have the chance to react or even say thank you, a sheepish grin tugging at his features as he walks to his car. When you go out to see, it’s already made with cream and sugar, just the way you like.

☆☆☆

“You look really pretty tonight, Y/N,” Jeongguk says, voice soft as ever, eyeing your dress as you step out of the car. “Seriously, I mean it.” The heels you wear click evenly like a metronome’s beat on the pavement as you walk around to join him at his side.

You ignore the heat in your cheeks, rather offering an endearing grin as you grip the clutch in your hand. “You too, Gguk. You’ll do great tonight. I wouldn’t be surprised if you made everyone here fall for you while you’re at it.”

His initial thought is to ask if that includes you, but his better judgment tells him it’s too bold. Instead, he just laughs and hands his car keys to the valet.

The dinner is a week later at a stunning three-floor, dimly lit fine dining restaurant decorated with dark hardwood and intricate chandeliers that make the soreness in your neck seem worth it while observing them.

Jeongguk cleans up nice, and even though you’ve already known this for a long time, you consider it a treat since this attire rarely, if ever, sees the light of day. 

He props out his elbow and nudges for you to take it, which you so graciously do. Together you walk to the glass doors, through which you can see the party has just started. You can already hear the muffled music and chatter in the background.

“By the way,” he says, leaning down to your ear, like what he’s about to tell you is no big deal. “I… might have told my coworkers that we’re engaged-”

“Engaged!?” you whisper, eyes wide and staring at him incredulously. 

So maybe he should have told you earlier. In his defense, he needed the extra time to produce an irrefutable excuse. In the end, it was only sort of reasonable, but he was hoping you would just roll with it. Isn’t that what the two of you always did?

“I know, I know! But listen. It just makes more sense in terms of you being my plus one and it also makes me seem like I have my shit together. And it’s always good for me to seem like I have my shit together, right?”

You sigh, narrowing your line of sight at him. “Okay. What do I do if someone asks why I’m not wearing my ring then?”

He mutters, “Oh, yeah.” Then he’s fishing through his side pocket and out comes a shiny silver ring with a small diamond placed into the center, held so flippant between his fingertips. “It’s my grandma’s. Borrowed it from home for this weekend.”

His heart pounds. Was that smooth enough? He has a lot of talents, but he isn’t sure if this was one of them just yet. Jeongguk tenses as he waits for your reaction. Best case scenario, his carefree attitude about it will rub off onto you.

“I figured it’d fit you,” he adds.

When it slides on perfectly, you know there’s no going back. Yet somehow, it is completely in character of him. You should have expected something like this because Jeongguk always has and always will be a man of spontaneity.

You’ll have to ask him how he knows your ring size sometime.

Inside, he introduces you to his coworkers. There are too many to remember but you catch a few here and there that you recall him talking about before, like Namjoon, the diligent Production Assistant and Taehyung, another member of the crew who he often eats lunch with. It’s an initial blur of faces and few-worded exchanges before you can take a breather off to the side.

“Not bad?” he asks, his thumb tracing circles over your knuckles. The way it makes your heart flutter is addictive. He has you in his palm and he doesn’t even know it. Unfortunately, you don’t know if it’s something you can give up yet, not without it being messy.

There’s a short line behind a board that displays the seating arrangement, and though it’s moving quickly, it allows you a moment of space from the other guests.

A tired smile pulls at your lips. “Not bad.” You squeeze his hand in yours.

The people in front of you move from the board into the dining hall so both of you can inch up. Jeongguk’s eyes trace the small handwriting, eventually spotting the two of you in the far corner of the room.

Dinner goes well, and Jeongguk does the most of the talking. It’s nice to see him so bright as he laughs with his coworkers. It’s that part of him that he’s had since he was a kid, the part that made him fit in so naturally and charm every person around him. Seeing it out in the open and no longer repressed from emotional baggage is heartwarming. Compared to a few months ago, you might not recognize him at all.

After a while, Jeongguk wipes his mouth with his napkin and pushes his chair out from the table. “Alright, I’m gonna head to the bar lounge for a little while and see who I can talk to. Are you gonna be fine on your own?”

He’s nervous, you can tell. By the way his eyes dart around the room, the way he’s biting the inside of his bottom lip. 

“Yeah, go ahead,” you nod, taking a sip of water. “I’ll just stick around here.”

He gives himself a once over and wipes his palms on his slacks.

You tap his shoulder, bringing him down so you can whisper to him a small, “You’ll do great.”

He pulls back with a shy, one-sided smile. “Thank you. I hope so. Text me if you need anything.” Effortlessly, he plants a chaste kiss to your cheekbone that has your face ablaze and excuses himself from the table. The feeling of his lips on your skin sticks well after he’s gone.

Ryujin, the script supervisor, puts down her drink with a roll of her eyes. “Finally, all the boys are gone. I’ve been trying to talk to you the entire time but he’s always butting in!”

It pulls a laugh from you. “No, no, he’s just trying to help,” you explain, “I’m new to everyone here so he just doesn’t want me to feel awkward.”

“Yada yada,” says a bubbly Chaeryoung, a PA, waving it off with her hand. “I expected him to be protective with how much he talks about you, but wow. It’s cute though. Sometimes I wish I had someone like that.”

“Yeah, I’m really lucky,” you nod, reminded that you’re just pretending. You’re lucky, but not that lucky. “But… wait, what kind of stuff does he say about me?”

Ryujin chortles at your worry. “Oh, only good things. Just stuff you do together, jokes, those kinds of things. You’re involved in a lot of stories in some way or another.”

“Like, “This one time in high school, Y/N and I got in a fight...” or “Last week, we went to this new brunch spot and Y/N got this sandwich…’” Chaeryoung clarifies, but it only makes you want to pry further.

As she says it, both of the memories come floating back clear as day. You can’t remember what exactly you argued over, but it had been when you were paired as partners in a history class. The sandwich, you recall, was heaven on earth. The images are picture-perfect despite how they’d been buried.

The fact that Chaeryoung remembered things you didn’t is mildly startling, but you’re more surprised that Jeongguk shared so much. Not that it’s an issue, you just didn’t think you’d find yourself being perceived by so many people you had no prior knowledge of. The idea of him spilling your high school gossip fits like a puzzle to his persona, but the thought never occurred to you that he might think about you when you’re not there.

But you won’t let yourself become too optimistic.

“Yeah,” you laugh, “I think it’s different since we grew up together as family friends. He’s in a lot of my stories, too.”

“Ugh, that’s cute,” Ryujin sighs. If only. “So when did you start liking each other? Or start dating?”

You take a deep breath as if you’re looking back on the day when in reality you’re just trying to come up with the most believable love story you can manage. It’s also your most ideal. Maybe if your current situation went the way you wanted.

“I think we liked each other at different times over the years. Y’know, I liked him when we were kids, he liked me when we were teenagers, kind of on and off like that. But sometime after college, I think the cycle lined up once and for all and…“

Do you think you could manifest it by speaking it into existence?

“...here we are.”

That thought was stupid. You make yourself forget about it. Stop with the hope, remember?

When you finish your spiel, you think you’ve finally made it in the clear. Until another question comes.

“So what was your first date like? Was it weird?”

You know they’re just trying to make conversation, but god, you’re not ready for this. You’re preoccupied with other problems. If only they knew how your brain was short-circuiting in an effort to think up an explanation that will make you sound versed and most importantly, convincing. You go with what you wish had happened. 

“Um, a little bit, but since we had been close friends for such a long time, I think we had that mutual understanding of how things were so we could laugh about it. We just…” you say, shaking your head along, lips pursing as your train of thought rolls through the detailed daydream you know so well. “...went out to dinner one night... and it was sort of a process to transition to something more romantic, I guess, but it just kind of happened.”

But it feels nice to be Jeongguk’s girl. Even if you’re just playing a part. If you sink yourself into the atmosphere, tune into the clinking of the glasses, and the relaxing jazz in the background, you can pretend you’re really engaged and sharing your love story to whoever will listen.

Would it hurt too much to hold out on it one day become reality?

“I’m always so happy when the company hosts these events,” Chaeryoung comments, leaning back in her chair to take in the room. “It’s the only time I can come to a place like this since you know I can’t afford it with my own money.” A small talk sort of laugh bubbles up from her as she says it. There is an inkling of confusion that strikes you at her words, but you think you’ll just brush it off for the sake of being casual.

Ryujin looks to you as she adds, “And they even let you bring a plus one for free! You know, I was thinking of bringing my boyfriend, but I just felt like it might have been too soon…”

Your brows furrow as you recall the conversation with Jeongguk. Didn’t he say that it was a pay per guest scenario?

“So the company pays for these dinners?” you ask out of pure curiosity and with no hint of suspicion weaved in your tone.

“Yeah!” says Chaeryoung. “It’s all from the company’s budget since this is technically a networking event. Usually, people swap ideas or come up with deals that turn into projects a couple of weeks down the line.”

You nod along as she explains eagerly, but all you can hear is that there never was a price to pay to begin with, and more importantly meaning that there never was a discount. Not one that Jeongguk needed you around for. 

But why would he lie? 

Maybe Jeongguk was embarrassed asking for your company or didn’t want his ego bruised by telling you it was free and he wouldn’t have to pay for you. It’s the benefit of the doubt for your best friend (and love of your life, but that’s a separate issue) that makes it your first thought. In reality, thinking about the boy you know, it doesn’t make sense. At this point, he shouldn’t have to feel like that when it comes to you. 

Whatever the case may be, you hope that he knows he’d never need an excuse to invite you somewhere. It’s not like you’d ever refuse. You’d never refuse him, not in any life.

☆☆☆

It’s the middle of the night when another bad dream jolts you awake with a pounding heartbeat. Your eyes flutter open, brimmed with tears, to reveal that the moon is still high in the sky above the towering buildings, and a shift to the side facing the nightstand lets you know you have another three hours before you have to start your day and leave Jeongguk’s apartment.

The last few weeks, the dreams have been growing more and more common. Not enough for you to dread going to sleep just yet, but definitely something you’re quickly getting sick of. At this point, you’re tired of going to sleep just to wake up freaked out in a cold sweat. You chalk it up to the stress piling on you, not only that of regular adult life but that of your messy relationship with your best friend.

How ironic that must be, considering the whole reason it started was to relieve stress when now it’s your main source.

You empty your lungs with a shaky sigh and slide to the edge of the bed, intending to fetch a glass of water to calm yourself down. Before you can reach your feet, Jeongguk’s arm catches you at your waist, and then you’re being reeled back under the covers.

“Easy,” he mumbles, his voice grainy and low from sleep, “You’re fine. Talk to me.”

You swallow thickly, the scenes from your subconscious flashing back to you. “Um, that’s alright. Not a big deal.”

You wish he’ll just leave it at that and fall back asleep like he usually does. When his breathing steadies, you think you’re in the clear, but you are horribly mistaken when he yawns and adds, “You’ve been having a lot of nightmares recently.”

Is it another prompt for you to talk? You’re not sure what to say. 

In fact, you’re never sure what to say anymore. Never sure what’s too much, what’s too little, what the difference is between what you say and what you mean. The line blurred months ago and now you’re wandering blind.

You’d enjoy moments like this if it wasn’t for the stark fact that the person you’re with doesn’t love you like you love him. 

 “Yeah…” you agree. Right now, your chest is heavy and not strong enough to support a conversation. You hope that he’s not too drowsy to take the hint.

A small sound from him makes it seem like another sleepy sentence is in the works, but fortunately, the tension in your chest begins to fade when nothing comes out. His hair shuffles against the pillow and he presses a featherlight kiss to the back of your neck, lips lingering there for a second too long before he sinks back into his position.

When you’re sure he’s slipped under the veil of slumber again, you carefully slide out of his grasp and squeeze into your own space at the edge of the bed. You don’t know how much longer you can last like this.

☆☆☆

“She texted me.”

The sentence makes you stop chewing. Your movements stop aside from an absent blinking, gears spinning overtime to process it.

“She uh, she wants to meet up,” he tacks on. “I think I should go.”

“Why would you do that?”

Jeongguk slowly twists the pasta around his fork, taking a blatant newfound interest in his dinner. He takes a deep breath, but when he opens his mouth, the words catch in his throat.

“I don’t know. I think we need to talk about what happened.”

You scoff, and he takes an immediate offense to it. His eyebrows knit together as a wounded expression takes form on his features.

“What happened? Gguk, she dumped you because you were going through a hard time and she didn’t want to ‘deal’ with it.”

It’s not just you playing the protective best friend role and trying to talk sense into him. It’s not jealousy, either. And sure, maybe you never liked her to begin with, but for good reason. She ended up doing exactly what you thought she would - shattering his heart into a million pieces and leaving it for someone else to pick up the pieces. And considering that’s been you on a multitude of occasions, you think your point of view is valid.

“Listen, I don’t blame her… That can be really hard on someone.”

“So it’s okay for them to just pop in out of the blue, say they can’t handle your emotional issues and bounce? Someone who they claimed to love for over a year and a half? Someone who they were thinking about marrying?”

Jeongguk purses his lips as you speak, a hefty exhale coming through his nose in frustration.

“I just miss her sometimes!”

And you really wish Jeongguk would love you back, but we can’t all get our way, can we?

Not to throw yourself a pity party, though. It’s not like he owes you anything for what you do because you brought it on yourself. He doesn’t control your feelings, even when you want to blame the nerve he has for smiling because it makes you get all jittery. 

“She doesn’t even give a shit about me anymore! She’s out with other guys, doing all this shit, posting it everywhere. I… I loved her so bad and she acts like she has no clue.”

You give him pep talks when he’s about to go out with someone else. You comfort him when he’s distraught over someone else. You love him when he loves someone else. 

And then-

“You don’t know what that’s like.”

You freeze. Your heart leaps to your throat, closing the gate on your lungs until you forcibly open them again as subtle as possible. A stinging feeling you know all too well burns in your eyes as you try to hold back. Jeongguk doesn’t notice in the slightest as his gaze is still fixated on his food.

Your initial reaction is anger. All you want to do is yell, tell him wrong, tell him that you know it all too well because you love him and he’s pathetically oblivious whether by his nature or by choice. Everything you want to say, shouts and confessions, float across your mind and bounce around the walls as each one brings you further to opening your mouth and letting them spill. Then you just want to cry.

But you won’t do any of that. Your situation won’t allow it, not if you want to risk losing him. It’s not a risk you’re willing to take, even if it means suffering in it by yourself and letting the irony of his words go unrealized.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you sigh, the fork gripped by your white knuckles tapping mindlessly against the side of the bowl as you swallow the feeling back down. Your hand comes up to scratch at the corner of your eye, wiping away the wetness beginning to pool composedly so he won’t notice.

“I don’t.”

☆☆☆

It’s on a Tuesday evening a couple of weeks in the future when you next see him. 

Maybe more than a couple. Maybe a few. Maybe too many. Just enough for his tone to turn to something more confrontational than just casual when he sends you a text saying that he wants to see you again. Particularly when he specified that no, he needed to see you again.

He suggests the park by the river. You’ve been there a few times with him for lunches and to hang out, but the energy is different this time around. Both of you know why you’re here, even though you never thought you’d have to be. 

For a while, you didn’t want to make things weird, so you’d come over when he’d ask and leave as soon as you could in an attempt to curb the damage on your heart. It wasn’t until three weeks ago that you actively started flaking on him. You’d let his calls ring until he hung up or left a message and say you were busy when there was absolutely nothing going on. 

He stopped by your apartment at one point, too. You were freaking out after he texted you he’d be visiting, pacing around and wondering what to do, what to respond, if to respond at all. The knock at your door came sooner than you expected. Before you were about to pull it open and face what you’d been so casual about denying for so long, it occurred to you: You could simply not open the door.

So you waited. He knocked a few more times, sighing so loud you could hear through the door. He called out your name softly, as if he knew you were right on the other side. He stayed for a few more minutes. Then came the sound of his footsteps padding away. You were safe for another day, but the awful feeling stuck in your chest for days.

It stuck in his, too. He knew he should have never gone that far, never said anything that night, but he also wondered if he could have done it any other way. Standing at your door and having to face the fact that you were undeniably steering clear of him, because of him, was a nightmare. It was stupid of him, but you’d see past it - wouldn’t you?

And now you’re seeing him live and in person for the first time in god knows how long. It’s a foreign feeling you’ve never felt with Jeongguk before, and you hate it. It’s been long enough for the sense of familiarity to fade, or at least be buried by time. 

Is this how a comet feels when it passes earth again after so many years apart? Does it feel new every time seeing how things have changed, or are they old friends who pick up where they left off?

“ So… what’s been going on with you?” Jeongguk asks nonchalantly, leaning back on his elbows and shaking the hair out of his eyes. “It’s been a while.”

“Uhh, I don’t know,” you shrug, vision focused on the calm waters in front of you. You tug at the grass under your fingertips, loosely hugging your knees to your chest as you sit beside him. “Not much I guess. Just work as usual, you know.”

“Yeah, but how are you?” he presses, trying to find your eyes as you avoid his.

He knew something was wrong from the evident distance and your attitude, but he didn’t think it’d be this bad. He didn’t think he’d fucked up this bad.

Your laugh is awkward and forced. “I’ve been fine. Been good.”

Thinking about the past few weeks, it’s not hard to remember but incredibly hard to grasp. It’s the same moments over and over, sourced from a lonely routine. Day by day spending time with yourself, missing Jeongguk, thinking about texting him but never doing it. Wash, rinse, repeat.

His face turns from you and you miss it the second you can’t see it. The feeling is off and both of you know it. He sucks his lower lip into his mouth, biting at it as he thinks of what to say. If the wrong thing comes out, he’s worried he’ll chase you even further away. It took so much to even get you here.

“Listen, can I be honest with you?” he says.

Honesty is the best policy, isn’t it? He’s tired of beating around the bush. The two of you know so much more than bland small talk.

“Sure.”

He takes a deep breath. “I always thought that nothing could ever be uncomfortable with you and me. Like we could be straightforward and blunt without it being weird. But things right now are really weird and I don’t know what happened. You’re avoiding me and you don’t want to see me. It’s not like it used to be.”

Your nails scrape beneath each other, entangled in your lap. Clearly things aren’t the same, but you don’t have the energy to be snarky. There are so many things to address and you’re ignorant on where to start.

“I know there wasn’t a discount for the work dinner.”

He nods, looking out over the river. “Yeah, figured.”

“So why’d you lie?”

It’s his turn to shrug. “I just wanted you there and I didn’t know how to ask you. I… was starting to feel the shift and I wasn’t sure what to do about it. Saying that just gave me an excuse to take any of the weight off.”

He adds quietly, “Your turn.”

“Gguk,” you start, shaking your head as you try to find the right words. You think of the kiss, the dinner, the ring, the argument.

“We act like a couple. We do things couples do. We pretend we’re a couple. But... we aren’t a couple.”

He’s silent. He knows where you’re going. He knew it before you even got here because if you didn’t bring it up first, he would have.

“I think you already know what’s going on, but if you need it spelled out for you, I kinda caught feelings for you. And then you give me your grandmother’s wedding ring and tell me you love me and it hurts so fucking bad because I know you don’t mean it like that. Not the way I wish you did.”

The words dissipate into the fresh evening air, soon filled by delicate chirps and birdsongs. Distant laughter floats around the park, with muffled ferry horns layered behind it all.

“How do you know?”

Your hand pauses, chlorophyll green blades pulled taut between your fingers. No fucking way.

“What?”

He scratches the back of his neck before locking his eyes with yours. “How do you know... that I don’t mean it like that?”

He’s not playing with you, is he? No, he wouldn’t. You respond slightly confused, hesitant to lean into his words just yet.

“Are you saying that you do?”

He laughs and it makes your chest feel like it might burst open. “You’re kidding, right? I’ve been saying it. I mean, I thought I was being obvious.”

You suppress the excitement bubbling in your stomach for a second longer to throw him a questionable expression with an extended palm for emphasis. “You told me you wanted to go see your ex-girlfriend and were talking about how you loved her.”

He exhales through his teeth as he squints at you. “Yeah, that went a little far...”

“Only a little?”

“I’m apologizing, so let me, please?” He says, eyes wide with a small smile tweaking up at his lips. “It was stupid. I wanted to see what you would say or if you would get jealous. ‘Cause I thought you might have felt the same and at the time that was the only thing I could think of doing.”

Your expression falls.

“Wait, so did you actually meet up with her?”

“No, no!” He exclaims, rushing to refute such a bizarre idea. “Yes, she texted me, but I said no. Everything you said was right, so… it wasn’t worth it.”

He thinks he’s done, until he sees your stare still lingering on him. What’d he miss? He flops over on his stomach, elbows in the grass as his chin rests on his palms to look at you.

“You also said I didn’t know what it was like to love someone who didn’t love me back.”

A cheeky grin grows on him. “Okay... but technically you don’t because I loved you back the whole time.” One of his arms lowers to the ground, his fingers finding your own. He weaves them together with an affectionate squeeze. “You just didn’t know.”

The way your heart flutters is different this time. Gone are the tiring nerves and teary eyes and the weight of stress on your shoulders. It’s a comfortable sort of excitement, one that you’re in love with almost as much as you are with the boy himself.

“Since when?” you ask shyly, feeling the tingle in your cheeks. 

It’s a relief to have Jeongguk back. A life without him wouldn’t be one you could ever get used to. 

He was there at the start, he’s here now, and he will be here for as long as he possibly can. When it comes to you, there’s no doubt. He’s yours every time.      

His deep brown eyes sparkle under the setting sun, golden and glowing, as he makes a point to find your own. Tone dulcet and tender, he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Since always.”

[datawyrms]

A Literal Soul Bro

Dannymay 2020 day 15 Fave AU. (we’re going with it’s danny phantom. BUT DEMONS. as i am a hack and also can’t pick Just One)

Demons didn’t exist. They were stories and heavy handed morality fables. So of course he couldn’t back down when Sam dared him to try the summoning she found. That would be admitting he was scared of some fairy tale.

The green eyed thing leering at the pair of them from the carefully drawn circle apparently did not care it should not exist.

“Okay Sam, great prank.” He stammered, trying to ignore the clear surprise etched on his friend’s face.

“I sort of thought this was your prank Tuck,” she answered quietly, eyes darting between her tech obsessed friend and the smoky glowing thing that was now in the basement.

“Two of you?” It spoke in a disquieting tone, leaving the friends with the sensation of being doused in buckets of ice water. “Yet you only offered me one soul.”

Tucker broke the strained silence first. “Woah, hold up. I’m not offering any demons any souls!”

“Oh? So the girl is offering you as a snack?” The eyes were bright and curious, even though the rest of the ‘demon’ remained an odd undulating mass that probed at every inch of the circle with smokey tendrils. 

“No! You can just go back home now.” She sounded steady, though Tucker could hear the note of fear hiding just below the false bravado. 

The idle smoke flashed into a brilliant green flame “I answered for a soul, and I will have one. One given soul for one lifetime of servitude. That is what you offered and I accepted.”

“Please tell me that book has a dismissal spell or something.” he managed to squeak out, too afraid to run away in case that broke some other rule that they knew nothing about.

“Don’t rush me, I’m looking!”

The demon flames died down somewhat, but the flash of hot anger was still lingering in the room. “You confirmed the contract in blood. I am here. I may not get your soul if you break it, but I’ll have both your lives.”

Sam, to her credit, was trying to read a dead language as quickly as possible in a dark room with wildly varying demon fueled lighting. That didn’t mean she was finding anything useful.

Tucker gave a weak smile, trying to think of a way to buy more time. “We didn’t actually know you existed? So if you could just let us off with a warning this time that’d be great, really.”

“None of us are leaving here until I am paid, or you are both dead.”

Well. It had been worth a shot. “Uhhh, do you take payment plans by any chance? You can totally ask the electronics store, I always make my payments on my PDA.”

The flames snuffed out as the eyes fixed on Tucker, not so much a glare as the curious look it had had before they’d made it angry. “I can be reasonable. You both did offer…” The eyes closed as it seemed to hum a little bit.

“I can’t find anything, everything is phrased like just telling them to go will be enough.” Sam hissed, gripping the book so tightly that the colour was draining from her fingers.

“Of course I would go if my master said so. Neither of you are that. Yet.” the demon clarified, snickering when Sam flinched. “Since you seem so against giving me a soul, I will accept half of each.”

Tucker was pretty sure any deal offered to you by a demon was probably the worst possible option to take, even if it sounded less terrible at first brush. “That’s not really a payment plan, demon dude.”

“An alternate form of payment, then. You each retain half of your soul, secure my loyalty, and I get the soul I want.” the smoke flicked and danced in light airy circles. “Everyone’s happy. So choose something.”

The pair shared a look. This was obviously not a good idea. Yet who could really force their best friend to be alone in some demonic contract with this thing?

“This was my fault.” Sam muttered, dropping the book before giving it a solid kick. “Maybe not having a soul is just maximum goth.” her grin couldn’t be more paper thin if it had been made out of tissue paper.

“Oh this is totally your fault. But maybe I don’t want you hoarding all the demon powers to yourself Sam.” he shot her an equally sickly grin before looking back to the monster in the circle. “Okay, halfsies it is.”

“You both agree?”

Sam hesitated. “Thanks Tuck.” she whispered. “Halfsies, demon.”

The creature vanished. Yet it was absolutely still present, judging by the horrid seeping cold scrabbling at his chest. It stabbed and tore something and he fell, clutching at a woundless chest. The cold lessened as he shuddered, but there was still a hollowness where there wasn’t one before. Sam’s loud string of obscenities at least assured him she was alright from whatever that had been, though he didn’t quite feel steady enough to get back to his feet.

“So dramatic. You’ll get used to the feeling. I did.”

The demon was still in the room. He’d almost forgotten. Tucker forced himself to get upright again, holding his glasses as he tried to spot the smoky fiend. A smirking white haired, green eyed boy was hovering nearby, watching with rapt attention. “You look different.”

The boy lifted an eyebrow “I’m your demon. There’s no point in trying to freak you guys out anymore.” He flexed a white gloved hand, four wickedly sharp claws replacing what had been fingers. “I’m still plenty scary if I want to be.”

Tucker agreed with that sentiment, considering the claws ended up an inch from his face. “Noted.”

“Urgh. Too much for one day. Go back to wherever you came from.” Sam groaned, rubbing at her forehead.

The demon tilted his head, pointed ears flicking before giving a fang filled smile. “Hmm. Nah. Think I’ll stick around for now.”

“Wait you said-” Tucker sputtered.

“I’d obey my master unquestioningly.” the grin widened, even though it should no longer fit on his face. “But you two are sharing that title. I only need to obey you two for half of your lifetimes. Did I not mention that bit?”

“You know you didn’t you lousy-” Sam looked liable to kick up into a proper rant, but managed to stop herself.

“Demon. That’s what you called, and that’s what you got.” he glanced back at Tucker. “The hell is a PDA anyway? I haven’t gotten to get over here in ages.”

And that was how two best friends ended up with a demonic third wheel.

[the-trashy-phoenix]

Supernatural season 4 review (part 1)

Link to part 2:

Carly and I have been waiting for this season since we started watching Supernatural. She had been sending me Destiel posts and pictures and telling me about them even before we watched the very first episode, so I had a lot of expectations on this particular season, and on one particular character.

Castiel appears from the very beginning (I thought he wouldn’t come out so early) to explain Dean’s inexplicable resurrection. In fact, Dean died at the end of the third season and at the end of his last year on earth due to the deal to save Sam, but we already knew he would survive because the authors would never let him die at the third season and we are no more surprised by the fact that in Supernatural being dead permanently is more unusual than coming back to life after a while.

The first episode is happy and tragic at the same time: Dean wakes up in his coffin (that was pretty disquieting if you ask me) and he manages to come out and reach Bobby. At first he cannot believe he’s really Dean, but Dean convinces him even without knowing how he was saved from hell. Bobby’s pain for Dean’s death is comprehensible, as he considers him as his son, and so it is the confusion he feels seeing him again, but that’s nothing compared to Sam’s reaction. He’s been deeply broken by Dean’s death and, as it was predictable, tried in every way to take him back, and failed (as most of the fans have noticed, this total impossibility of the brothers to live without each other is quite toxic, but from some point of view their entire life is…). In fact he’s so surprised by Dean coming back from hell he can’t hide the fact that Ruby kind of took his brother’s place. She is an interesting character who emerges properly only in this season and develops through it in a quite complex way: I was never able to tell if she really wanted to help the Winchesters, as it seems in the first place, or if she was only following a mysterious path. By the way, thanks to her help and especially her blood, Sam, without Dean in his life to stop him, persuaded himself that the best way to keep hunting was by enhancing his demonic powers in order to kill demons. I’m quite sure he thinks it’s a good compromise between his two sides, good and evil, but I also think that something happens inside him the exact moment he sees his brother again. He’s so afraid of Dean’s judgement he tries to hide his relationship (also romantic, which is quite creepy) with Ruby, also because deep inside he knows what he’s doing is somehow wrong, even if he’s actually saving people. Of course when Dean finds out he gets mad at him, and that’s understandable considering how suspicious he’s always been about Ruby. However, he himself is never really sincere with Sam about what happened in hell, both because he doesn’t want to remember and somehow feel again all that pain and because he feels deeply guilty for having accepted to torture some souls, even after a long period of resistance. Also, Dean’s pain doesn’t end as he’s back in earth, because he meets again several times Alastair, the powerful demon who tortured him in hell and forced him to torture other souls (and I was quite happy when Dean had the chance to get a little revenge and torture him). Of course these big secrets lead to fights and misunderstandings to which we are used, but those issues could have been solved easily, if only they had spoken to each other from the beginning. After a while they finally do clarify their positions, and that’s a relief for us all. Sam tells Dean what Ruby has done saving him on a lot of occasions and partly persuades him to rely on this good demon, but even after this clarification, the problem is not completely solved because Dean can’t but think Sam has replaced him with Ruby and prefers following her advice rather than keep hunting with him. Deep inside Sam has always the same feeling towards his brother: he doesn’t want Dean to treat him like a child, and his biggest struggle is being considered as the little brother who needs protection. That’s why he wants so bad to break free from Dean. Although, he doesn’t understand that also Ruby is patronizing him and, as he acknowledges at the very end, she’s not doing it because she loves and cares about him, but because she needs him.

I’ll jump quickly to the final episode, as we’re talking about Ruby. The main villain of the previous season, Lilith, was not defeated at all: in the last episode we just get to know Sam can resist her, so she has to find another way to take over him. During all the fourth season we see Lilith breaking the so-called “seals”, which will allow her to free Lucifer from his cage down in hell. The boys struggle with that all the time and they don’t know how to stop her, apart from killing her. At the end, Sam decides to do that all by himself, helped by Ruby and by the demon blood he can’t stop drinking at this point, without knowing that’s exactly what he has to do to bring Lucifer back and Ruby has been cheating on him all the time. I do have to admit it was quite a shock, because I had started to like and trust Ruby and to think Dean was a little too paranoiac, and jealous, about her. Maybe it’s just that I liked to think that someone who’s destined to be a monster, like a demon, can actually have a choice and do the good thing. Also Sam always seems to hope that, because he himself has demon blood in his veins and tries to use his evil powers for the good. He mirrors himself in monsters all the time, as in episode 4, when he tries to convince Dean that a bad creature can really control itself if it wants to, but everything, even in this episode, seems to prove him wrong. Even his blood thirst is insatiable and, although he thinks he can control himself and choose the good side (as he thinks he’s doing when he accidentally frees the Devil), at some point in episode 21 Dean and Bobby feel the need to close him into the panic room to detoxify him from demon blood (and they would have succeeded, if he hadn’t managed to escape).

As I mentioned Bobby, I’d like to point out the fact that the boys seem to consider him only when they’re both alive, while, when one of them is (temporarily) dead, the other one is so lost he cuts every link with other human beings, especially Bobby, who in the contrary is always there for them. I just think he deserves a little more consideration and gratitude, because he loves the boys just as they love him and they don’t seem to realise he suffers so much when one of them dies or if he doesn’t know what’s happening to them.

To go back to the final episode, you may wonder what Dean was doing while Sam was freeing Lucifer and starting the apocalypse… To answer this question we have to go back to the beginning and Castiel.

As I said before, this mysterious character appears as Dean’s saver and presents himself as an “angel of the Lord”. Of course we’re as surprised as Dean is hearing that, because we’ve learnt to think the world is full of evil and there’s no such thing as a good supernatural creature, so we wonder what’s the truth. Well, there’s no contradiction: we soon also learn angels aren’t as good as the Bible teaches us (at least the ones in Supernatural). They do exist, so Castiel is not lying, but they just want to do their own good and they don’t care at all about humans (that’s quite paradoxical, that Sam and Dean care more about protecting humanity than angels, and as far as I know God himself, do). But that’s another thing we get to know as the show goes on and that reaches its apex in the last episode.

Of course I already knew something about Castiel (and his “special relationship” with Dean) as Carly told me a lot about him, but still I found his appearance and the whole angel thing quite interesting, especially because at first Cas tries to be solemn and focused on his duty, which is at first even a bit scary, then quite funny considering how his relationship with the brothers will evolve through the season and through the entire series. His character changes a lot not only in his behaviour towards the Winchesters, but also in his faith in God’s and angels’ plans, as he decides to actually do the right thing against all the odds and against his own father, which must’ve been really hard for him, knowing how blindly faithful he was at first. He decides to put himself into the hands of those two guys without knowing anything but they’re fighting to save as many people as possible, and that’s why we love him and consider him the only angel worth the name. The more the show goes on, the more we see the continuous contrast between Castiel’s attitude (at first just a little uncertain) and the other angels’. I’ll mention just two of them for now, Anna and Zacharia. Anna is a girl who’s perceived as crazy because she says she can hear angels speaking, and of course demons hunt her as a means to find out the angels’ plan. When Sam, Dean and Bobby find her and try to help her, they call Pamela, an old friend of Bobby’s who always helps the boys as best as she can (I think she’s one of the characters that help Sam and Dean more and that they never thank enough, considering she finally sacrifices her life to allow them to conclude a hunt successfully). Pamela makes Anna realise she’s a fallen angel, and that explains why she’s able to hear angels’ voices, and after some time, she can go back to heaven, the place she belongs to (only after having randomly had sex with Dean because why not…). Anna’s story is quite unusual compared to the other angels we met: most of them are just sort of powerful and incorporeal spirits, who, just like demons, need a human body to fit in. We see it in detail in episode 20, in the narration of Castiel’s story. I think this mechanism of appropriation of innocent human beings contributes to Supernatural’s evil connotation of angels, who seem to be even more sneaky than demons, because they take advantage of people’s faith to convince them to hold them in their bodies and do whatever they want once they’re into them. Of course this vision of both angels and demons as villains is clearly made to make us sympathise even more with Castiel, who rebelled, and with the brothers, who seem to be the only ones really caring about mankind.

Angels’ wickedness emerges in all its power in the final episode and in the character of Zacharia. That’s the time when the entire plot is solved: Zacharia, an important angel in heaven hierarchy, keeps Deans locked in a sumptuous room to prevent him from stopping Sam from breaking the last seal. Just as Sam doesn’t know what he’s doing while he thinks he’s saving the world from apocalypse, Dean didn’t know angels actually wanted the apocalypse to happen to purify the world and finally defeat demons and Lucifer. It’s quite shocking for him (and also for us) and, even though he had never liked and trusted angels, he’s led to hate them completely. He thought he was brought back from hell because angels wanted him to help saving the world, but he understands it’s exactly the opposite. In addition, I also think the worst feeling for Dean is feeling useless and not being able to protect someone he loves, especially Sam; that makes his situation even more painful, and Zacharia seems to know it well. At the end, he manages to escape, but he can’t stop Sam from killing Lilith and the brothers can do nothing but acknowledge together the beginning of the apocalypse, which will be the main theme of the following season.

I’ll go rapidly through the single episodes as usual, to highlight some I particularly liked.

I found the fifth episode, the one in which a monster fakes itself into Dracula, quite original and I appreciated the mixture of colored and black-and-white scenes, aimed to mark the difference between “reality” and the movie set up by our Dracula. In the sixth episode we are shown a hidden side of Dean, an uncontrolled fear which is of course aroused by something the brothers are hunting, but which is also credible imagine is actually an emotion Dean constantly feels in his dangerous life but can’t allow himself to show. One of my favourites of the season is episode 8, where all people’s wishes come true, because the scene of the little girl wishing for a giant teddy bear and actually getting it was so funny and scary at the same time. Episode 13 gives us another piece of the puzzle to reconstruct Sam and Dean’s childhood and youth, as they work a case in a school they had attended: apart from blaming John for making his sons change home and school so often they can’t even make friends or built a sort of life, these highlights from the boy’s past provide us even more information to understand how they became the men we see in the present and how they were, and still are, deeply different from one another.

I feel I have to mention a new character, who is quite important for the Winchesters and also recurrent in the show, Adam. He randomly comes out as Sam and Dean’s half-brother, son of John and a local woman he met during a hunt; of course at first the Winchesters don’t believe him, but at some point they have to face the truth and kind of feel sympathetic with him for John’s absence during his growth, because they’ve been through the same issues even if in theory their father lived with them. Moreover, Adam’s appearance testify once again Sam and Dean’s biggest weakness: even if they don’t know Adam at all, they can’t help but try to save him and give him love (especially Sam, I have to say) welcoming him into the family. That’s so cute, but that’s also what keeps bringing them troubles.

I’ll end my review with episode 14: the hunted monster is a siren, which, as you all probably already know, shapes itself as a male federal agent to seduce Dean. “Big hint of Dean’s bisexuality!!”, I can hear some of you scream. What I think is that the explanation the episode gives for it (the siren takes the shape of a man similar to Dean, in other words the type of brother Dean has always wanted) is quite convincing, and is not the strongest element to sustain Dean’s queerness. I’ll impatiently wait for other clues in the next seasons…

- Irene 💕

[ko-fanatic]

Colours: Yellow

Rating: Teen and up

Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club

Relationships: Kyoya & Tamaki, Unrequited TamaKyo

Trigger Warnings: Depression

Summary: Yellow sunlight, yellow hair; warm things that make him slightly nauseous. He can't help but stare, eyes stinging, at how fucking beautiful they are. He also thinks about putting his eyes out, but these feelings are never easy.

Other fanfics in this series: Grey / Blue 

He hated how short his school days seemed to be now, basically begging Tachibana to allow him to return home. His notes were sloppy at best, and he couldn’t focus enough to complete his tests. Everything was shorthand, not explained, and his grades suffered. Luckily, these weren’t actual exams, but their teachers made sure to keep up to date.

Are you feeling alright, Ootori-san? Have you been to the doctors’? Has your father taken you to get checked out? Question after question and no real answer given. The finances were shared with Haruhi and Kaoru, Tamaki letting something slip. What, he wasn’t sure, but they were more than happy to help their “sick” senpai.

The thing was… he knew this. He knew what it was. It never affected his academic ability before, but he wasn’t really sleeping or eating. He spent most of his nights staring up at the ceiling, contemplating the point of it all, and food turned to dirt and ashes in his mouth. Nothing appetized him. Nothing really mattered to him. When you spend hours thinking about the insignificance of your existence as a whole, homework doesn’t appeal. He was too tired for that, despite being dragged into a void of existential contemplation and crisis.

His friends were worried, of course. Despite never verbally bringing up each other’s issues, Mori and he had a friendship based on silent support. He didn’t feel completely alone on the days where he felt too weighed down and his tongue felt to heavy to talk. Still, there were times when the silence was too thick and noxious, slowly suffocating him as they sat there. Like he needed to say something, but it left a bad taste in his mouth. On those days, he scratches at his arms and Mori gave him a sad look of both understanding and comradery.

But Mori couldn’t say anything, just like Kyoya couldn’t say anything when Honey was pushed into throwing him down. Firstly, that wasn’t their sort of friendship; silence was deeply rooted in their compatibility. Secondly… It was hypocritical. For any human flaws they might’ve had, neither of them wished to be a hypocrite. They built their support on silence, and that was how it’d stay.

Hikaru couldn’t give less of a shit about him… usually. Now, he was asking questions. He was asking how his day went, if he’d like to lie down in the back room; you look like you’re about to faint and you can’t concentrate, go sleep it off. It was, in a word, disturbing. He much preferred the Hikaru who almost acted like a possessive cat, raising his back whenever he and Kaoru would go off on their own. It was downtime, and he and Kaoru were becoming close. Until this thing came back, at least; he found himself preferring the comfort of his room over anything they could do together.

Kaoru… He barely knew. Sometimes he didn’t really see the other boy, other times he flitted around him as if Kyoya was made of glass. While he knew that no one knew what was wrong, no one knew how to make it better, it still irritated him. Not Kaoru, really – he was trying his best – but himself. He shouldn’t be irritated when he was the one to blame, allowing this thing to infect him once more. Logically, he knew it wasn’t really his fault, but he couldn’t help but feel sick with himself over it.

Then, there was Haruhi and Tamaki. Both had lost their mothers to illness, in some way. Tamaki’s mother was still alive, yes, but circumstances and sacrifices came between them. For those two, it set off something of a fear in both of them. He was pale, slow, dark circles laying beneath caked makeup in some vain attempt to look at least a little healthier. But, at the end of the day, he felt like he was in freefall. Soon, he’d hit the ground, bloody and broken. Dead.

Free from all of this.

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of that thought. It was happening… not frequently, but not rarely either. It was disquieting, quite frankly scary, but he was still fine. Not functioning perfectly, he couldn’t lie to himself that much, but fine. He was still alive… in a sense. He still breathed, still had a heartbeat. He wasn’t physically ill, so all he had to do was pull his mind together. Despite acting like one, he wasn’t some sort of useless NEET or hikikomori. He was intelligent, witty, and he was going to succeed… Right? Honestly, he wasn’t even that sure anymore…

“Ootori-kun, are you paying attention?”

The drama teacher’s voice snapped him back into reality, and it was startling, in a very temporary and minor way, just how normal this had become for him when those around him still seemed concerned. He wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t. It was just too familiar…

“Well, as I was saying,” He teacher began, a hint heavily in her voice for him to start paying attention, “Tamaki and Kyoya, you’ll be performing a song from the first act; There’s A World. I want you both to show how to react, rather than just staring blankly when you don’t have lines.”

Tamaki was the one who took him to the stage, hand gripping his wrist tightly – but not tight enough. The music began, and there they were. A usually amazing double act, turned an amazing actor and a stone weighing him down. The support was gone, and Tamaki was left with a subpar performance. How unfair.

“I’ll be Gabe, don’t worry,” Tamaki cut in, and he had to start wondering when Tamaki started giving him that almost pitying look. He had to wonder when he’d stopped finding it insulting, “You can be Diana. You won’t have lines, but you’re good at reacting.”

He merely nodded. Honestly, he was just tired and numb right now. He just wanted to go home and sleep, but he just needed to muddle through until lunch. Then, he could go home. At least they were doing Next To Normal, which was a little too easy to act to at times. Who was he kidding? In general. He didn’t want to think, he was too exhausted to just pretend these days. The song wasn’t too long either, which was a Godsend.

The music began, and Tamaki started singing. The song was a melancholy, although beautiful one, a son singing to his mother about a place where she could be happy. As Tamaki sang it, it was his best friend just… talking about the host club. While he’d still been exhausted there recently, it was a place of happiness. That, and Tamaki’s singing voice really was lovely.

However, despite the pretty promises made, in the context of the play it was a lot more sinister. It was someone’s own delusion pushing them to suicide, which cut a little too close to his situation in that moment. He didn’t really want to kill himself, but his thoughts strayed in that direction fairly often. Really, he just wanted to die somehow; that was all. Worrying, but less likely to actually happen; he couldn’t shame his family like that. He couldn’t bring himself to, even if everything felt strained.

He just wanted to stop going around in a circle, like his mother did; circling the drain until he went under, drowning in his own, illogical feelings of melancholy. He’d done this all before, but there was no saviour in the wings, waiting to ride in on a white stallion and rescue him. It was all a huge mess of metaphors, really; he was either a princess in the tower, or some disgusting piece of dirt or lint. It depended on his mood; he was either garbage, or plain pathetic.

At any other time, the thoughts might’ve triggered a self-deprecating smile, but all it seemed to do was drag his mood down further.

“Tamaki-kun! That was amazing!” The cheer cut through his thoughts, the sound coming back to the forefront of his mind, and he turned to see that their audience had certainly enjoyed the performance. A standing ovation. Of course, even with a lead weight, Tamaki was able to cast a spell over all who watched him. He always had that captivating magic.

“Kyoya?” Tamaki cut in, and he blinked. It was then he realised how wet his face was, tears running down his cheeks, “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

“I… Nothing,” He dismissed, pushing himself to stand and wiping away the tears with the back of his hand, “You said to react, right?”

No one argued. No one ever did.

[ibtk]

Book Review: THE PROJECT by Courtney Summers  (2021)

(Full disclosure: I received a free e-ARC for review through NetGalley. Content warning for emotional, physical, and sexual violence, including child abuse and rape, as well as suicide. Caution: there are some vague spoilers ahead.)

Having a sister, Mom says, is a place only the two of them will share, made of secrets they never have to say aloud—but if they did, it would be in a language only the two of them could speak. Having a sister is a promise no one but the two of you can make—and no one but the two of you can break.

Bea closes her eyes. She wants Lo to understand that night in the hospital, what was supposed to be Lo’s last night on earth. How it brought Bea to her knees and how it split her heart in half and how its break called forth a miracle. She wants Lo to understand how it felt to be there, to feel death so imminent, a palpable rot, and then to have Lev stand over Lo’s prone body and take it all away. To see him lay his hands on her, to feel the electricity that filled the small space. It was an electricity that traveled through all of them but none more than Lo.

The Unity Project was so burned into her there was no other place for that stranger but here. And if that stranger isn’t here, and my sister still isn’t with me— Who is she now?

When she was thirteen years old, Gloria "Lo" Denham was in a devastating car accident. Lo was pulled from the wreck, barely clinging to existence, with the jaws of life; her parents, also in the car, were not as fortunate. In one catastrophically unlucky moment, fate claimed most of Lo's small family - everyone except her older sister Bea(trice).

Only six years her senior, Bea was ill-equipped to deal with the tragedy, let alone the toll it took on her sister. When it looked like Lo might die, Bea prostrated herself on the floor of the church chapel, begging for the intervention of a god she didn't entirely believe in. What she got was Lev Warren, founder of The Unity Project, who purportedly brought Lo back from the dead by laying hands on her.

Grieving, lost, and feeling indebted to Lev, once it became clear that Lo would survive, Bea ran off to join The Unity Project, leaving Lo in the care of their great-aunt Patty, whom neither of them had ever met before. Lo hasn't seen her sister since, though it's not for lack of trying: all of Lo's calls to The Project's HQ are rebuffed, allegedly at Bea's request. Eventually Lo gives up, though she finds the moving on much more difficult.

As Warren's congregation continues to grow, rumors swirl around The Unity Project: namely, that it's a cult, on a par with the People's Temple or Heaven's Gate. Could something more sinister be lurking behind The Project's social justice outreach and good works, or are those in power just threatened by Lev's?

Fast-forward six years. It's now 2017, and a chance encounter with a suicidal young man at the subway station pulls Lo back into the orbit of The Unity Project. Now working at SVO as the assistant to acclaimed journalist Paul Tindale, and desperately eager to prove herself, Lo starts digging into The Unity Project with renewed vigor. What she finds is earth shattering: her sister left The Project several months before - and without Emmy, the three-year-old niece Lo is just discovering she has. Most bonkers of all, media-shy Lev Warren wants Lo to profile the group for SVO - after all, what better publicity than a glowing piece by a longtime skeptic?

THE PROJECT is exactly what I expected from Courtney Summers - and also not! (It's a weird, disquieting feeling.) There was more than one moment when I wanted to throw my Kindle into the snow drifts outside, but I'm glad I stuck it out: THE PROJECT is a twisty thriller about a cult (or is it?); Jim Jones given the Courtney Summers treatment.

The suspense angle of the story is pretty great, and there are plenty of smaller mysteries that all tie into the larger one (is Lev the Big Bad or the next best thing to JC?). Summers manages to keep it going right to the very end, even after the big question mark has mostly been wrapped up. It's a satisfying story, if frustrating at times.

I know that, at its core, this is supposed to be a book about sisters - but honestly, I felt like the relationship between Bea and Lo mostly takes a backseat to the culty stuff (and at least in part because their relationship is so colored by Bea's involvement in The Project).

I'm kind of obsessed with cults (a plot line involving a cult is an insta-read for me) - but even those with just a passing interest will easily recognize all the neon pink warning signs Summers throws up here: being cut off from your friends, your family, all remnants of your previous life. The social isolation. Giving all your earthly possessions to the church. The taped confessions, public shamings, and "spiritual audits." And, of course, the psychological manipulation and physical and emotional abuse.

The fact that Summers had me doubting even for a moment? Impressive, but also kind of scary.

Bonus points for Lev's prediction of Donald T****(*chef's kiss*).        

[everythingjonsa]

Snowed under by your love - Chapter 4.

Okay so this one came by pretty quickly to me but am not sure if the next one will come out at the same pace. Thank you all for all the love and encouragement you’ve been showering me with. It’s the reason why I keep writing. 

My jonsa soul sister @kitten1618x who is my alpha and beta is truly meticulous and thorough in her editing and I am not happy with my writing until she is. So thank you very much, Love!!

Special mention to @becky217 for the prompt response and feedback. @fedonciadale @accuritefish @littledove @mommyandherblog @icequeen28 @hopepeaceandblackgirlmagic @geekprincess26 @lanamv96 @vervainqueen7 @annarosym @treehillraven23-blog @iqqsgonnabeokay @broadwaysprincess @trinuviel @justbrie @castalya @jami-elite @sestamibi-baby @cute-poison20102014 @hyojung12 @sweatysnow @vale110391 @tamica76 @longlivetheyoungwolf @teddyduchess @riahchan @bethnoel @amnex @twilight-sparx @nina2406 @nat111love @eternallyvain @tayanassayag @ronarch2671 @yol101 @unimportantpoetry @myownblueworld @graceverse @m-s-21 @vitvill98 @sansajons @poprox012-blog @devonmorgan1 @redwolf1283 @strangebirds1202 @ralphy246 @littlebird-whitewolf Thank you all for the replies, comments, likes and reblogs..

Because I am not yet on Ao3 and I’m not sure if you’d like to be tagged, please feel free to to leave a reply or message or ask if you’d like to be tagged. Thank you so much for your patience!!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Sansa let the warm water run down her hair, in the shower.  Today had been the toughest day of her life and, she was physically, mentally and emotionally drained out of every single ounce of energy. Can one really outrun destiny? I guess not, she thought. Karma was a bitch and it did come to bite you in the ass. She’d known when she had made the decision of raising Lyanna alone that if the day ever came that Jon Snow found out about his daughter, both their lives would be irreversibly changed. She had panicked when Jon told her about dragging her to the court about Lyanna. Her mind had painted before her, a thousand scenarios of Lyanna standing in a witness box, Lyanna being interviewed by strangers and so many other scary situations for her little baby that she’d forgotten that Jon COULDN’T BE SURE that Lyanna was his. And she had slipped. She had given him the conformation, he was looking for. She’d told him Lyanna was his daughter, after almost five years of keeping the fact hidden from him. And Jon had reacted exactly like she had expected him to react. In fact, knowing Jon Snow, it could’ve been far worse.

He’d wanted his daughter, from the very minute he’d realised she was his. Why do you want her now, she’d ached to ask him, but knew as soon as the question arose in her mind that, it was rather unfair of her to do so. Hadn’t she herself wanted her baby? From the very moment, she’d known she was pregnant, from the very first flutter she’d felt in her womb?

Sansa had also known there was no point in deterring Jon or arguing with him about Lyanna. Nothing she said or did was going to change his mind about having his daughter in his life. She’d seen the determination in his eyes and she’s known that it was more sensible for her to just resign to the fact that this is how it was going to be from now on. Jon wanted in, and there was no way on earth, she was going to be able to stop him. Not that she wanted to. Unbeknownst to Jon, a great burden had been lifted from Sansa’s heart. She’d never liked keeping Lyanna a secret from Jon and now, she didn’t have to.

But suggesting that they go to Winterfell?? THAT WAS UNEXPECTED. Sansa squeezed her eyes shut when she remembered their argument over his suggestion.

“Pack your bags??” Sansa had been outraged at his audacity. “I hope you do realise that you can’t be ordering me around, Jon Snow. I do have a choice whether or not I want to go.”

Jon had literally snarled at her. “Exactly like I had a choice, five years ago, whether or not I wanted my daughter?” He had inched closer to her and she thought all her cognitive abilities had come to an abrupt halt. Damn the man, for having such an effect on her even after five long years. His breathing was very irregular and she could see the fury flash in his eyes. “You should be thanking me that it’s not much worse for you, Sansa Stark. But if you keep your ego aside for a moment, you’ll see that it’s actually a good thing to happen for Lya.”

Sansa hadn’t, for the life of her, been able to understand how this could work in Lyanna’s favour. She’d dreaded thinking about how Robb was going to react if she EVER told him. A shudder ran down her back and Jon had moved away, pulling a chair to sit down. He’d pulled one for her to sit on too, but she had stubbornly refused, like a petulant child. Jon had simply shrugged and continued talking. “All the stories that I’ve heard from Lyanna, in whatever little time that I spent with her, have been about her Uncles and Aunties and Granny and Grandpa and her cousins which can only mean that your family is very much a part of her life and she obviously loves them a lot. It’s rather evident, therefore, to me at least that if I am going to be an active part of her life and so are they; we’re going to have to meet eventually.” Jon interlinked his palms and placed his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward, his face filled with disquiet. “So why wait for it to happen? Besides, I’ve been running away from facing your father for years now. I don’t want to anymore.” Sansa had remembered that fateful day all too well and she could see in Jon’s eyes that he did too. “You can tell Lyanna, that we’re going to Winterfell with her Uncle Robb’s friend. We’ll sail to White Harbour and drive down to Winterfell from there. It will give us a lot of time together. Once we’re in Winterfell we’ll …. ummmm…. talk to your family, and then slowly break it to her. She’ll have the people she trusts, around her. It’s the best place for her to be, really.”

Sansa wondered how the ‘talk to your family’ bit was going to work out. She knew that her mother and father would be civilised about the whole thing, at the very least. Bran was going to be himself, probably wearing the ‘I warned you this would happen’ look on his face. Arya was undoubtedly the right person to talk to if Sansa was even going to entertain this mad idea. Rickon was perhaps going to be the first one to hug Jon but Robb? Once again, Sansa dreaded thinking about how Robb was going to react. Jon didn’t have a clue how fiercely protective Robb was about Lyanna and how much he’d hated Jon for everything that happened. But he’d never admitted any of this, not even to himself. But Jon did have a point. Lyanna felt most at home, at Winterfell. She was the eldest Stark grandchild. Robb and Talisa’s Ben was just two months younger than Lya but they got along with each other like house on fire, just like their fathers had once. It was also where Lya had come to realise that she didn’t have a father like her cousins. She invented stories and told them to Ben about her imaginary father who was fighting monsters in castles so that he could come back to her. Ben, who adored Lya, believed every word she said. It was their ‘not-very-secret’ secret. She loved playing big sister to Anna, Lilly, George and Nymeria. She’d often begged Sansa to move closer to her family and her cousins. If she were to discover that she had a father too, like she’d always wanted and imagined, it was really in her interest that it happened at Winterfell.

Jon had probably seen the resignation in her eyes. He’d risen up from where he was sitting. “I’ll call you tomorrow morning, Sansa, and I’m hoping you’re going to have an answer by then.” The firm look had come back on his face when he slowly prowled towards her. “If you and Lyanna don’t come with me, I’ll go to Winterfell by myself and bring them all down here, even if I have to wage a war to do it, and then tell Lyanna myself that I’m her father.” He brushed past her and opened the door to leave but not before he told her, “And don’t think, even for a second, that I won’t do it.”

Sansa turned off the shower with a start. The worst thing that could ever happen, was Jon going to Winterfell all by himself. It was a risk she couldn’t take. Who knows what might come tumbling out of her family members mouths in her absence.  Jon Snow must never know, why she did, what she did.

Sansa wrapped herself in a towel and got out of the bathroom. She towel dried her long red hair and changed into her PJs. Sansa then slowly tip-toed into Lya’s room and watched the serene expression on her daughter’s face while she slept. In spite of the emotional roller coaster that Sansa had experienced today, she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. When Lya was awake, Sansa often wondered when she would go to sleep so she could get some work done and maybe have some time for herself. But when Lya finally did go off to sleep, Sansa got bored of the silence and the absence of the melodious voice that said ‘Mummy’ every single minute. Were mothers always so conflicted? She knelt down beside her daughter’s bed, carefully ran her hand over her forehead and kissed it, resisting the temptation to do it a hundred times more. How was Lya going to deal with Jon’s presence in her life? What kind of a father would Jon be?

She already knew the answer to that, she thought as she quietly went back to her room. Jon would probably take some time, but he would be the best ever father Lyanna could hope for. Just as he had been the best ever friend to Robb and Theon, the best ever brother to Arya, Rickon and Bran, the best ever son to Ned and Catelyn Stark. Jon had always kept his distance from her and she hated it. Sansa knew she was partly to blame for this distance. She had always behaved cold and indifferent around him. Her siblings, especially Arya, had hated her for this coldness she had shown towards Jon. But neither her siblings nor Jon, had ever known the REAL reason behind her indifference. Sansa had had the hugest crush on him, from the very first moment that she had set her eyes on him. Her heart would start pounding, her pulse racing and her palms would become sweaty when Jon was around. She had been scared her siblings would figure out her true feelings. So had she feigned indifference and dislike to cover up the crush that was festering inside her heart like a wound that wouldn’t ever heal. She had tried her best to get him to notice her in a not so obvious manner, wearing the best of clothes, trying to look as pretty as she could. Unfortunately for her, Jon had always seen her as Robb’s kid sister and nothing else.

It had gotten worse when Jon had started dating girls. Sansa had been heartbroken. She vividly remembered the first time Jon had shyly introduced his first girlfriend, Val, to the Starks. Jon was living with them, then. Val was a stunning blonde beauty at 16, and Sansa, who was only twelve, felt gangly and ugly in front of her. She’d thrown a terrible temper tantrum about a spinach pie and had been grounded for a day by her mother, who was appalled by the fact that her otherwise lady-like girl, had behaved like a hussy. Robb and Arya had tried to speak to her but she had shut them away. She’d always struggled with her feelings for Jon, as she was too fearful to talk to her siblings about it, worried that they would judge her for having these feelings for someone who was like a brother to the rest of them. She had never had an outlet to vent her frustration and that had made things worse for her. When Jon and Robb had turned 18, they had both wanted to move out of the Stark mansion, especially Jon but her father had put his foot down. Finally, a truce had been drawn. Robb and Jon would move to the outhouse which was very much in the premises of the mansion. This had made things worse for Sansa, for now when she went to meet Robb, many times she encountered Jon alone and she didn’t know how to behave around him. Like Robb, Jon had been extremely protective of her and Sansa wondered if any boy would ever have the guts to ask her out, with the reputation that preceded her.

Sansa got into her bed and stacked the pillows for her to rest her head. She sighed and thought about how she’d gone on a dating spree when she’d turned 16, to retaliate against Robb’s machinations to protect her and to convince herself that she didn’t really need Jon Snow. But every boy she’d ever dated proved to be disappointing, if not disgusting and she’d pined more and more for the one boy, she couldn’t have. Finally, things had come to a turn when she had started dating Joffrey Baratheon, a boy who was equal parts disappointing and equal parts disgusting. Robb had thrown a fit, when he came to know that Sansa was dating Joffrey, which had encouraged Sansa to mute the voice of her conscience, and continue dating Joffrey, in rebellion. She still remembered that fateful night, so clearly.

Sansa straightened her knee-length black skirt and green blouse. She was very happy with how her outfit had turned out. Today was her special date with Joffrey. He’d promised to surprise her by taking her someplace special. He’d promised her father, that he’d bring her home on time. Sansa came down the stairs and the first person she encountered was her brother Robb, who was glowering at Joffrey like a big grey wolf. Next to him sat Jon Snow, who looked broodier than his usual self. He must’ve sensed her presence for he looked up at that precise moment and their eyes locked. In all the four months that she’d dated Joffrey, Sansa had never felt so charged and light-weighted at the same time as she felt now, with just one look from Jon. He took in her appearance, slowly giving her a once over and when his eyes returned back to hers, they looked darker and stormier, if that was even possible. Sansa stood rooted to the spot, unable to look away from him.

“Sansa, you look ….” Started Joffrey, getting up from the couch to offer her, his arm, but Robb growled and Joffrey recoiled a little bit, then rolled his eyes. “Ummm… This is a pretty dress. Shall we go?”

She could still feel Jon’s eyes on her. Of course, he disapproved of Joffrey. Why would he not? Robb didn’t like Joffrey, so it was obvious that Jon would follow suit. He had never vocally expressed his dislike and so Sansa was taken aback when she heard him say, “WAIT ….” She turned back to see him get up from his place and walk towards them. Jon was twenty now, piling on muscles by the day and looked menacing in his favourite black T-shirt and Black jeans that he usually wore, matching the black of his mood. He gave her a tentative look before glaring into Joffrey’s eyes with absolute purpose.

 “If you try anything funny with her, golden boy” he paused, a muscle working in his jaw, “Anything at all..” He repeated looking at Sansa again, and she felt dizzy with the intensity in his grey eyes. “You will wish, you were never born….” And with another terse look at the two of them, he stormed back into the house leaving Sansa totally and utterly shocked. It was all she could think about, on her way to some party that Joffrey was taking her to.

 Apparently, ‘a party at one of his friend’s house’ was Joffrey’s idea of a special date and Sansa was thoroughly disappointed with him. Her thoughts, however, kept drifting back to Jon. It was so out of character for Jon, to have threatened Joffrey, the way he had. She had been too stunned to even react like she would’ve if it were Robb who had issued the same threat. Robb and Theon were the most aggressive of the three. Well, if truth be told, Theon was just plain stupid, Robb was the aggressive one and Jon was the more level-headed of the three, who usually bailed them out of fights, or stopped them from getting into one.

Sansa continued to be lost in her thoughts about Jon, when she suddenly realised that something was terribly wrong with her. She was feeling awfully dizzy and she’d not even consumed alcohol. Had her drink been spiked with something? Joffrey was now giving her a sly look and all warning bells started going off in Sansa’s brains. In spite of the numbness that was dulling her brains, she thought fast and hard for an escape route. 

If Sansa was anything, she was a survivor. She smiled sweetly at Joffrey and told him she wanted to use the Loo, and he had obviously not suspected a single thing. Sansa summoned every single ounce of her willpower to pretend that she could walk steadily but the minute she reached the bathroom, she bolted herself inside. 

She reached into her purse and took out her phone to dial Robb’s number. It was unreachable. She couldn’t even see the numbers on her phone correctly. Frustrated and extremely petrified at whatever Joffrey had planned for her, she pressed the phone assist and yelled ‘JON’ into it. Sansa went to the bathtub and lay down in it, hoping against hope that Jon picked up the phone. He did, on the first ring. “Sansa??”

“JON!” Sansa yelled into the phone “I think Joffrey has spiked my drink. My vision’s blurred, my head is spinning, I can’t even stand on my feet.”

Jon swore so harshly that Sansa was surprised he knew to swear at all. “Don’t move from there. I’ll be there in exactly five minutes.” He cut the call. Even in her daze, Sansa remembered that she never told Jon where to come and get her. She tried to get up from the tub and staggered to the basin when she heard some commotion below. It sounded like furniture was being dragged around the house and someone was hammering the wood a lot. Sansa splashed water on her face and drank at least a few litres in an attempt to flush whatever was in her system. After what felt like a few centuries later, a knock sounded on the bathroom door.

“Sansa…” Jon’s voice came through from the other side. Relief flooded her entire being and Sansa ran unsteadily to the door, unlocked it and flew into Jon’s arms without waiting for him to offer that comfort. Whatever Jon was about to say, had frozen in his mouth, just as he had, when she hugged him. This was the first time that she’d ever gotten this physically close to him. In the next instant, she felt his strong arms go around her, gathering her more securely against him, almost lifting her off her feet. She felt him press his lips against her temple and she was lost, lost in the sensation that was Jon Snow. She nuzzled against his cheek and inhaled his familiar scent. She felt like, this is where she belonged; this is where she was always meant to be; that she had found her haven. But the moment was lost as quickly as it had come, for Jon pushed her away from him with a slight jerk. “Sansa, are you alright?” he said, his breath coming out in huffs.

Sansa took a while to focus on him. He had thrown a black leather jacket over his previous attire but what really caught her attention was his bloody fist. She immediately reached for it, but he drew his hand away. She looked at him furiously. “What did you do to him?”

Sansa saw that violent look come into his eyes. “The less you know, the better. Come now, let’s get you home.”

But Sansa refused to budge. Suddenly a thought nagged at her brain. “How did you know where to find me?”

Jon rubbed his eyes with his fingers. Thankfully, his other fist looked intact. He looked extremely uncomfortable when he answered her. “Robb, Theon and I followed you here. It was Robb’s idea.” He added, when he saw Sansa’s shocked expression. “And you should be thankful we did. He was planning to put on a show for his friends with you, the bloody motherfucker.” Jon spat the words looking angrier than Sansa had ever seen him look. Sansa felt a sudden wave of nausea overcome her and her anger at Robb for having followed her on her date instantly disappeared. She should thank her stars for having a protective, interfering and loving brother like Robb in her life. What would’ve happened if he had decided to leave her alone, just like she had told him to, a million times?

“Before you ask me” Jon’s heated voice broke through her thoughts and she looked at him. “Yes, Robb and Theon were right here. They’ve taken those assholes to the police. Robb asked me to take you home.” Then suddenly, he turned his anger on her. “What the hell is wrong with you, Sansa? Why are all your boyfriends, miserable twisted fucks?”

Jon’s face was now inches away from Sansa’s and maybe it was the drug still acting up in her system but all her anger at Jon was coming back to her. She rolled her eyes. “Because obviously, I’m not dating the person, I desperately want to date.”

Jon’s expression changed and he creased his brows in confusion. “There’s someone else you want to date?” He took a firm step towards her. “Why don’t you then?” His words sounded harsh. Jon clearly did not trust her choice.

Sansa gulped at the disdain she heard in his voice. HE, was responsible for this. She was bursting from within. “Because, he doesn’t want me.” The truth hurt her, but she said it anyway.

Jon looked at her for ten long seconds and then scoffed, shaking his head. “What kind of an imbecile, wouldn’t want you, Sansa Stark?”

Sansa’s heart was pounding against her rib-cage. By some stroke of luck, an opportunity had been presented to her, to finally say what was in her heart. Did she have the courage to go through with it? Sansa took a step forward. She would’ve fallen had Jon not held both her arms and steadied her.

Blue eyes were locked with dark grey ones “Would you call yourself an imbecile, Jon Snow?”

Jon looked like he’d been punched in the face. He narrowed his eyes, then looked shocked and then looked confused. “Sansa….” He said after what seemed like an eternity. “You can’t possibly mean what you said.”

Sansa felt stung, rejected. What had she expected anyway? She tried to wriggle out of his grasp but he didn’t let her escape. It was a futile attempt anyway. He was far stronger than her. Fury and frustration bubbled inside her. If she’d come down this far, she might as well go all the way. So she looked directly into his eyes and said “I like you, Jon Snow. Deal with it.” And she kissed him.

She threaded her fingers through his dark silken curls like she’d always imagined in her dreams, and pressed her lips to his. His lips felt soft and warm and she wanted more. Jon still stood like a rigid cold statue and Sansa suddenly realised the folly of her actions. This was definitely going to be the most embarrassing day of her teenage life. How was she going to face Jon, after today?

Her grip on his hair slowly slackened. She was about to move away from him, when he suddenly held her face in his palms and devoured her mouth in a ferocious kiss that sent tremors through her entire body. It had to be SHOCK, thought Sansa desperately. Jon was kissing her. THIS WAS HAPPENING FOR REAL. Sansa was soaring above the skies as Jon’s kiss made her feel dizzier than the drug she had accidentally consumed. There was an entire orchestra playing inside her body as Jon’s mouth worked expertly over hers. Sansa’s hands travelled from his hair to his neck to his corded shoulders where she held on to him for dear life. She felt hot and cold at the same time. Never had she, in her entire dating history, been kissed so passionately by a boy like Jon was kissing her now. Jon’s fingers were now tangled in her hair and he angled her head slightly to deepen the kiss and she arched into him. His tongue was now doing the exploring and Sansa moaned loudly as she kissed him back with the same intensity.

The next instant Jon had withdrawn himself from her muttering “Shit… Shit …Fuck… Shit…”

Sansa shut her eyes to stop the tears from flowing, because she knew all too well that the moment, however beautiful it was while it lasted, was over.

“I am a bloody lout…” Jon was cursing himself and in general. He looked utterly disgusted with himself. Then he turned to look at her. “I am sorry Sansa….b-but this … us… This can never happen. Ever… You are Ned’s little girl. You’re Robb’s sister.” Jon cringed at the very mention of Robb.

“Jon, there’s nothing wrong with what happened.” Sansa said, hoping against hope that he could stop seeing her as Sansa STARK. “Just because I’m Robb’s sister….”

“Sansa…just stop, please” Jon moved away from her, running his palm through his curly locks. “This was …. an…an aberration… Please don’t talk about this again.”

An aberration? He’d called the best kiss of her life an aberration? “You are a bloody imbecile, Jon Snow!” Sansa had yelled at him “I hate you more than anyone else in this world.”

And hatred she had felt, for herself, thought Sansa, as she drew the covers up to her chin, wiping the lone tear that had fallen out of her eye when she was lost in her memories of her past. For her utter inability to hate him. He’d brought home Ygritte, his new girlfriend the very next day and Sansa’s skin had turned to porcelain, and no one except Bran had noticed. He had been just fourteen, but was extremely intuitive. He had looked at her and Jon several times during that cursed dinner, which was nothing but a blur in her memory. She hadn’t displayed any emotion outwardly, but something inside her had shattered that day. A realisation had dawned upon her; one she would never be rid of.

A realisation that she would remain utterly and irrevocably in love with Jon Snow, to this day, until her last day!

[dark-matter-of-opinion]

Episode 304 Theories

A few quick theories about 304 before the episode airs.

What we know Check out Epiome’s excellent spoilers post for some of the stuff we’ve found. There’s also some potential quotes on Spoiler TV.

Lastly, we’re going to get a bunch of hints about what’s to come. From the scene of Five and the Android: “Welcome to the end of time” - Five “What happened to the stars?” -The Android

Everyone else is dead, and it obviously causes Five pain.

Disclaimer: I fully expect most of these to be wrong, but it’s fun to try. There’s some setup for the rest of the season in the episode.

Some extra hints There’s a mysterious device. But what’s extra interesting is this post from the third day of production. During the filming schedule, 304 was actually the first episode filmed. Working backwards, I found this from the first day of filming.

There’s a “lab” and in it are… the fancy tanning beds we see in the teaser for the episode, which I assume are not actually for tanning. We see the Android laying on one. Joe says: “The operating table.  This “lab” scene will deliver the most disquieting/creepiest/unsettling sequence on Dark Matter to date.  Avert your eyes!“ If you watch the video on that link, it shows a device coming together. If you look really close, you can see little bits that look a lot like… the little gear bits on the “mysterious device.”

So, at some point, at least something is done to the crew by someone else. This device seems built to cause some havoc. But by who?

Theories I suspect this episode will get going fast. The purpose for this is would be twofold: one, not to waste time on exposition, and two, the circumstances of how they got there are probably going to be pretty shocking, so that will be held off as soon as possible.

Time loop stories tend to start out with a “WTF”, followed by trying to convince yourself and others you’re not crazy, followed by learning new things either to make it interesting or to get by, or starting to do crazier things to cope or because you just don’t care. For Three, this looks like it’ll mean maybe learning French, singing, not bothering to get dressed, drinking, learning most of the Android’s technobabble, and attempting to get punched by Solara. Because what’s the worst that can happen? Would you put your finger in Solara’s food? Probably not. But if you know you’ll wake up tomorrow and only you’ll know, then why not? There’s also a space ukulele, and while we see the Android playing it, I wouldn’t be surprised if Three learns too (but where did it come from?).

The crew won’t believe him at first. If anyone is likely to catch on, I’d say the Android or Five would believe him first.

In the trailer we see a man throwing Five against a wall. I don’t know where his clothes are, but I suspect this is Ash given the violence. What if Ash, too, ends up stuck in the time loop, and now Three has to counteract him as well?

We’ll see more of Three’s reaction to Sarah. I suspect he’ll actually be talking to her in some form, but I’m unsure if that’s the neural link or if it’s something else. What if she, too, resets every day, and he just keeps getting to know her? What if he falls in love with her all over again? I know her presence is supposed to affect him this season, but I’m worried something’s going to go wrong in this episode that’s going to upset him a lot.

The beds from the “lab” seem to also be a hint. We’ve wondered why the Android looks so odd. What if she’s been experimented on, parts of her swapped out?

Five says a bunch of things to the Android when she hands her the mysterious device to destroy: Dwarf Star’s conspiracy, the double deception, Kryten/Cryden/Criton, Carina/Korina, the Accelerated, the fall of the House of Ishida, the meeting with your creator, the black ships. Not a happy ending for everyone.

Sounds like there’s some scary stuff to come! 

(… what if Five has a sister and her real name is "Corina” or something like that…? Hrm!)