#or that i wasn’t worth keeping around... idk i’m always expecting the worse which is so unfair to the other person

[blondemrk]

idk if ur taking requests but if u are (if ur not then ignore this lol) just an idea but what about like an angsty academic rivals with nct dream (specifically mark or haechan😏 or ot7) me personally i love angst which is a big part on why i like ur writing! u write angst so good!

SECOND PLACE

p renjun × fem!reader w.c 1.3k t.w angst

the weight of disappointment sat heavy on y/n’s chest as she curled up on the empty stairwell, arms wrapped tightly around her knees.

she had promised herself she wouldn’t cry.

not over this. not over him.

but the words still echoed in her head, sharp and cutting.

“one point? one? and you let him beat you?”

her mother’s voice had been cold, laced with something worse than anger—disappointment.

“if you can’t even do this right, what’s the point of all your effort?”

she stood there, fists clenched, throat tight, unable to say anything. because what could she say? that she had tried? that she had studied until the words blurred together, until exhaustion made her fall to her knees sitting down.

y/n wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there, staring at the floor through blurred vision, her mother’s words looping in her head like a cruel, endless refrain.

“one point? one? and you let him beat you?”

it wasn’t fair.

it wasn’t fair that her worth was measured by a stupid number, by a name that wasn’t hers at the top of the rankings. it wasn’t fair that no matter how hard she tried, it was never enough.

a choked sob slipped past her lips before she could stop it, her body trembling from the sheer effort of keeping it all inside.

“y/n?”

she froze.

the voice was hesitant, uncertain. but she knew it instantly.

renjun.

her head snapped up, her teary eyes meeting his startled ones. he stood at the bottom of the stairwell, clutching his bag strap, brows knitted in something that looked dangerously close to concern.

she quickly wiped at her face, turning away. “go away.”

he didn’t.

instead, he climbed the steps slowly, cautiously, like he was afraid she might shatter if he got too close.

she hated that.

hated that he was seeing her like this—small, broken, defeated. hated that of all people, it had to be him.

renjun, her competition. renjun, the name that always sat just above hers on every score sheet. renjun, the person her mother compared her to like he was some unattainable standard.

“what happened?” his voice was quieter now, softer.

she let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “what do you think happened?”

renjun didn’t answer right away. she could feel him watching her, thinking, trying to piece together something she wasn’t ready to say out loud.

“…was it about the rankings?” he asked carefully.

y/n’s hands clenched into fists.

it was humiliating. the way her failure felt like it was written all over her skin, like he could see right through her.

she exhaled shakily. “it’s stupid.”

“it’s not,” he said, and something in his voice made her look at him again.

he wasn’t smirking. he wasn’t gloating. there was no trace of the arrogant satisfaction she had come to expect from him whenever he won.

he just looked at her—really looked at her—and for the first time, she realized that maybe he wasn’t the enemy she had made him out to be.

“did someone say something to you?” renjun pressed, eyes darkening.

y/n hesitated.

it was on the tip of her tongue, the truth. that her mother had ripped her apart over a single point. that no matter what she did, no matter how close she got, she would never be enough.

but the words wouldn’t come.

because saying it out loud made it real.

so instead, she swallowed hard and muttered, “it doesn’t matter.”

renjun was quiet for a long moment. then, slowly, he lowered himself onto the step beside her, close enough that their shoulders almost touched.

y/n stiffened. “what are you—”

“if you’re gonna cry,” he said simply, “i’m not leaving you alone.”

she turned to glare at him. “i’m not crying.”

renjun raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “right. and i’m failing calculus.”

despite herself, y/n let out a small, broken laugh.

she wiped at her face again, exhaling shakily. “you don’t have to do this.”

“i know,” renjun said, glancing down at his hands. then, softer, “but i want to.”

y/n didn’t know how to respond to that.

so she didn’t.

she just sat there, in the quiet of the stairwell, with the only person who had ever truly been her equal. and for once, she let herself breathe.

y/n didn’t know how long they sat there.

for once, there was no competition, no battle for the top spot, no carefully chosen words meant to get under the other’s skin. just silence. heavy and suffocating, but oddly comforting in the way only renjun’s presence could be.

she hated that it was him sitting beside her.

because wasn’t he the reason she was crying in the first place?

wasn’t it his name on top of the list, the one she had spent years chasing but never quite reaching?

her mother’s voice echoed in her head, sharp and cutting.

“you let him beat you?”

y/n’s throat tightened again, but she refused to cry anymore. not in front of him.

renjun exhaled beside her. “you know…” his voice was careful, like he wasn’t sure if he should say the words out loud. “you don’t have to tell me. but if someone made you feel like losing by one point is a failure… they’re wrong.”

she scoffed. “easy for you to say. you won.”

renjun frowned. “you think that makes it easier?”

y/n turned to him, confused. “what?”

his fingers curled against his knee, his posture suddenly tense. “you think i don’t know what it’s like?” he muttered. “always being expected to win? always having to be perfect?”

her breath caught.

renjun never talked about things like this. he was always composed, always smug in his victories. but right now, there was no arrogance, no pride in his voice—just something bitter and tired.

“i—” y/n started, but he cut her off.

“you think i enjoy this?” his voice was sharper now. “beating you by one point? watching you kill yourself trying to catch up?”

y/n flinched. “don’t act like you let me lose.”

“i don’t,” renjun said, and the way he said it made her stomach twist. “i’ve never gone easy on you. i never could. because you—” he hesitated, exhaling shakily. “you’re the only one who’s ever made me work for it.”

she didn’t know how to respond to that.

because she had spent years believing renjun was just another obstacle, another name to surpass, another reason she was never enough.

but now, looking at him—really looking at him—she saw something else.

not an enemy.

not a rival.

just a boy who understood.

she looked down at her hands, gripping them tightly in her lap. “it’s my mom,” she whispered.

renjun stilled beside her.

y/n forced herself to keep going, even though her voice shook. “she—she yelled at me. said i should have beaten you. that i should have tried harder.”

the words hung heavy between them.

renjun’s jaw clenched. “that’s bullshit.”

y/n let out a hollow laugh. “maybe. but it doesn’t change anything.”

renjun was quiet for a long moment. then, to her surprise, he reached out—slowly, hesitantly—and covered her hand with his.

y/n froze.

“i mean it,” he murmured. “you’re not a failure, y/n. not to me.”

something inside her cracked.

because those were the words she had been aching to hear, the ones she had never gotten from the person who was supposed to love her unconditionally.

and somehow, somehow, they sounded right coming from him.

y/n blinked rapidly, swallowing the lump in her throat. “you’re really bad at comforting people, you know that?”

renjun let out a quiet laugh, squeezing her hand just once before pulling away. “yeah. but i figured you’d appreciate honesty more than bullshit.”

she did.

god help her, she did.

for the first time that day, the pressure in her chest eased, just a little.

and for once, being second place didn’t feel so lonely.

loved this req so much omg

@chenlezip @mrkified @polarisjisung @narcisstict @holyhaech

[what-if-nct]

(cw // mentions of sh in case anyone is triggered)

hii it’s christmas where i live meaning it’s probably not christmas for you (unless you waited hours to finally reply back) but i just wanna say merry christmas and thank you for being there with me during my hard and mentally draining days. it’s so hard being on social media without bumping into negativity such as real life news, people debating about bare minimum things such as rights for body autonomy, gay rights, etc, and especially for my case, being shunned by a community of people i thought were friends simply for talking about jonghyun on my posts that solely rely on users to create posts in order for the app to work.

while i wish i don’t want to be super negative all the time, this was exactly how i felt this year. i felt violated, stripped from my pride and tormented — yet i’m expected to be happy all the time and put up a brave face all the time.

the truth is, i hated turning 18 because i couldn’t bare the responsibility of being considered an adult at the face of the law, when i had my childhood partially taken away from me. nobody was there during my mental breakdowns. just because it wasn’t 2022 anymore, doesn’t mean i didn’t face cyber bullying and faced targeted harassment simply for talking about my bias just like any other kpop fan, and people liked to downplay it by telling me to “keep it to myself.” i didn’t get to do my dream course at my new college due to my grade, and i felt so fucking shit because i’ve done everything in my willpower just to get the same score 3 years in a row, nobody took my mental breakdown seriously. i was sexually harassed and taken advantaged of by several men, because they did not respect my boundaries, used me as my drunken self, and tried to contact me via twitter acting like a kpop fan from london in the comments, when he was a 25 year old man who only saw me for my body. i was overwhelmed with the way the job centre was treating me and making me feel worse for simply asking a question to prevent email spams by sending me to a centre that could help me get to know the basics of using technology. i had a job, but got scammed for 2 weeks worth of work and i never got paid. i lost £500 which i rightfully worked my ass for, even almost passing out due to walking upstairs and having my feet ache over the constant standing for 8 hours for 3 days a week. i never got to go to france and meet my cousins. it’s sucks because i was planning this since summer and i’ll never be able to go since my parents took the only savings i had to go to africa for a month due to how expensive plane tickets are. i even got fucking pregnant and not to mention, my mum started to act weird around me… and just the way i was treated after turning into an adult… i don’t really wanna go there.

i know it has been a long year, but idk if it’s gonna change at all or if it’s gonna get worse. i just wanted to have a peace of mind for once. that’s literally my wish for 2024. i just want to be free, to have amazing friends, having a normal life, just like everyone else so i don’t have to always compare myself to people on snapchat who show off their day or shout out their friends for their birthdays. i wish i could get rid of my anxiety symptoms, because now notifications, messages (especially pending ones) and anything that shows a number next to an icon would get me really fucking nervous that it would be a harassing message. i just don’t want guys to take advantage of me, i just want a loyal and sweet first boyfriend/girlfriend that is genuinely there and physically as well as emotionally. i just feel like i’m missing out on life just because some stupid systemic ableism in the uk where i was forced to learn at home and be in a special needs class, which can explain why i’m socially awkward and don’t know how to be a normal friend.

basically saying… i just want to be happy. (i’m so sorry for the vent i didn’t expect it to be this long loooool)

Merry Christmas!! there's about 10 minutes till Christmas for me. I am so sorry that this past year has been so hard on you. And its horrible that you had to endure all of that I can't even imagine how hard it's been for you. You deserve so much better than what you've received. You deserve respect, care, love, understanding and you deserve happiness and it breaks my heart you've been treated like this by so many people. I just send you the biggest hug and I'm proud of you, I know life has been hard but I'm proud of you for continuing. And I can't promise when, but things will get better and one day before you know it you will have the happiness you want and deserve and I will always be here to listen and talk to you.

[businesstiramisu]

Okay I rewrote the post. Thoughts on the last tenth (or so) of Worth the Candle:

[I don't really expect this to be interesting to anyone except me, but i do want to save these for future me, lol]

 I found the ttrpg Fel See Incident much more satisfying than the Aerb version. No, not satisfying, it was horrible. But it was exactly what the story had been building it up to be, for 1 million plus words, and that's quite an accomplishment. Whereas the Fel Seed of Aerb.... I think the problem is scope creep? When the stakes get Too High and the antagonists (or protagonists, for that matter) get Too Powerful my brain just gives up and I disengage. Like "sure, whatever, just tell me who wins". Whereas the ttrpg version, and the real world-level drama around it, felt horribly plausible.

I did like "we'll win the second time because, if Joon had gotten a second chance at the game, he would have let the players win." That was a nice bit of narrative reinforcement/article of faith.

 I love the Long Stairs. It's almost enough to make me think I should give SCP a more serious look, but I'm still worried the horror will be Too Scary for me. (And don't get me wrong I would hate to play a ttrpg campaign in it... actually, maybe it wouldn't be worse than usual? I could just follow the RDP instructions instead of my usual choice paralysis. well, depends on how often they come up. I probably wouldn't like having to make new characters constantly b/c they keep dying.) But like when Juniper wished they could've stayed in the labyrinth and explored the other cultures living there, I was right there with him.

The final reveal of Uther/Arthur..... hmmm, complicated feelings. On the one hand, ugh! why couldn't he just apologize, and admit to being terrible!! Well, he kinda did later... to Juniper, after they'd spent a long time rebuilding camaraderie and basically giving each other a pass for the horrible shit each considered the other to have done. And that was depressingly realistic. Well, idk that anything in my life compares (fortunately) but the most serious, scary arguments in my life have mostly gone like that.

Juniper and Arthur's ultimate goodbye felt appropriate, even cathartic. Raven and Bethel didn't get anything comparable though. Just Uther brushing them off (or in Ravens case saying "I understand this is hard for you but you've got to suck it up", basically). Which, yeah the world ain't fair. It wasn't justice, though. They didn't get their due like Juniper did.

The final conversation withe the dungeon master was also surprisingly satisfying! I liked it a lot more than when Sophie's World did the same thing. (And I've probably read more books that have the character confront the fact that they're characters in a novel, but that's what came to mind lol).

Maybe b/c it was really funny how the DM told Juniper "you're all characters in a novel I'm writing" and Juniper immediately rejected that explanation as bullshit.

Similarly, the Narrator, as the actual Juniper who was writing WTC

Heaven!Fenn though, felt overly self-indulgent to me. Which is maybe ridiculous, b/c the whole story is an exercise in self-indulgence/self-examination, but i dunno she just didn't work for me

Well, it's pretty hilarious that she was The One Person In Aerb Ever To Go To Heaven, and was always destined to be that one person. Hilarious in a pretty arbitrary way.

Someone in the comments to Ch. 245 or 246 said that "Worth the Candle but Reimer died instead of Arthur" is a great fanfic premise and... i dunno, it would be a massive amount of work, but it's tantalizing to think about. Seems like Aerb would have to be very different with--well, idk, would it be a whole collection of Reimer's characters, since he never seemed as devoted to one of them?-- instead of Uthur Penndraig, but with the themes of putting people on a pedestal, using their tragedies as an excuse to wallow in your own grief and depression and rage, and also the DM presumably having the same goals, I have to wonder how much it would even matter?!

Wow, the void beast was a metaphor for global warming?! kinda kicking myself for not picking up on that. Unless I just forgot about it; this story is really long.

[ifmywishescametrue]

i don't know if you're still taking prompts (so please ignore this if you aren't) but i cant stop thinking about your recent buckytony fic (and how much i love breaking up and making up as a trope) - so i was wondering if you'd be up for doing smth else w that trope for buckytony?? maybe they re-unite at a mutual friend's wedding?? and it brings up emotions about their almost wedding?? idk i just really love breaking up and making up as a trope and i really love your writing :))

thank you!! I'm very much up for doing another buckytony break up/make up, plus you deserve nice things for finishing law school - congrats on that!🎉🎉hope you like this one 😊

There's a ring on Bucky's finger.

It's the first thing Tony notices when he walks into the bar for Natasha and Sharon's joint bachelorette party. He stands there in the doorway, frozen and staring until someone clears their throat pointedly behind him, and he mumbles an apology as he moves out of the way.

He thinks about turning around and not coming back, just ditching the event entirely and maybe even the wedding tomorrow, but he tosses the ridiculous thought the second it comes. He promised Sharon when she asked him to be her man of honor that he could handle Bucky being Nat's. Living on the other side of the country afforded him to miss the rest of the events and planning along the way, and he could deal with one day of being cordial to his ex, even if the day comes with walking down an aisle together.

But now there's a ring on Bucky's finger.

The silver catches the light, and it's on prominent display with his left hand wrapped around a beer bottle. It shouldn't be possible for him to have moved on that quickly. Eight months shouldn't be long enough to bury three years of memories. Three years of hopes and dreams and plans for a future built together. Years of love so blindingly intense that it burrowed into Tony's soul to make a home and refused to be evicted just because it was supposed to be over.

Tony wonders what the timeline is. Did he find someone new while Tony was still just beginning to pick up his own scattered pieces? A first date for him while Tony was barely getting out of bed. When was it that he replaced Tony as the last person to have his heart? And how did he find forever in someone else so soon after losing the one he used to call his soulmate?

Natasha notices him first, still hovering near the entrance, and she raises a single eyebrow that calls him a coward. He rolls his eyes at the accusation, though it's accurate. She elbows Sharon to catch her attention, and before he knows it the entire small group is turning their heads his way, giving him no choice but to join them.

It's less bachelorette party and more pre-wedding celebration with the crowd they've gathered, all mutual friends of both brides with no regards for gender traditions that usually come with this night. Tony used to fit in well with them all, back when gatherings like this were just a typical Friday night. But he made himself an outsider between the move to California and the breakup with Bucky. All he has now with most of them is a dead group chat that hasn't been used in months. He wonders which one of them made the new one without him in it.

Sharon is the first to pull him into a hug, then Natasha follows suit. He gets a nod from Sam, a wave from Clint, and what might pass as a smile from Steve. Bucky stares so intensely that Tony can feel his eyes with his back turned, but when Tony looks his way, he pretends to be interested in the floor.

He had a plan before the ring threw him off. Step one should have been the entrance. Head held high, shoulders square, perfect outfit that shows everything off and compliments the Malibu tan he has now. Step two should be nonchalance. A light hearted greeting to everyone, accompanied by an easy grin and relaxed body language, and catching up with subtle brags slipped in. Show them all that he's doing better than he ever was, sitting on top of the world these days, even if most of the time it feels like he's barely above rock bottom.

Step three in his ideal scenario involved Bucky breaking down and begging to get him back. Some versions even had him on his knees for it, with tears running down his face. Others required it to be raining outside, and the cloudless sky ruined that before the ring on Bucky's finger did.

With steps one and three out the window, he tries to salvage step two.

“Hey,” Tony starts, a little too loud. He swallows the lump in his throat and tries again, “Hey, Bucky. It's good to see you.”

Bucky nods, a strained, jerky motion. “Yeah, you too. How, uh, how have you been?”

“Good. Really good, actually. Company just had its highest sales quarter yet, so it’s been a little crazy around there, but good.”

“Good,” Bucky repeats, and there’s a long awkward pause.

“And what about you?” Tony asks, and then because he can’t help himself, he adds, “I see you got engaged. Or, hell, I guess it could be married, even.”

Bucky freezes with parted lips and wide eyes for the briefest of moments, like he wasn’t expecting Tony to know about it or bring it up, and his eyes shift to the ring on his hand and stay there.

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “Engaged. Last week.”

Tony ignores the ache in his chest and plasters on a smile like he’s happy for him. “Congratulations. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t know him. Steve introduced us. They work together.”

“So he’s at the museum then? I thought you used to say that you hated all those stuffy guys and Steve was the only one worth knowing.”

Bucky smiles, a fond thing that widens the crack in Tony’s heart. “Yeah, well, I guess I was wrong. Felix is a great guy.”

Tony resists the urge to roll his eyes. Stupid name that probably matches a stupid, punchable face.

Some masochist thing pulls at him to make him keep digging for more information, a twisted need to know even as each word pushes the knife in deeper. He aims for casual, leaning back against one of the high top tables as he asks, “So how long have you been together?”

“Just a couple of months. Kind of fast, I know, but when you’re sure about something, it doesn’t really matter, right? Why waste time waiting?”

“Right, of course,” Tony says, a little flatter than he intends. “So why isn’t he here tonight? Hope it wasn’t to spare my feelings, because it’s really not necessary.”

Bucky falters, “It’s not? You, uh, you’re dating someone, then?”

Tony nods, and he wishes he had grabbed a drink before this so he could hide behind it as he lies through his teeth. “Only a few weeks, though. A little too early to be a wedding date, but I’m sure your guy will be there tomorrow right?”

“Oh, um, yeah, definitely. Why wouldn’t he be, right? There’s no reason I can think of,” Bucky says, stumbling around it. “But tell me more about your thing. Your person. How’s that going?”

Tony shrugs, and he finally pulls off that easy smile he’s been trying for. “Well, it’s not get engaged in a couple of months good, but it’s been really great. We’re taking it slow. Trying not to rush anything and just get to know each other first. I think it could really be something, though.”

“That’s good,” Bucky mumbles. “You deserve something good.”

He isn’t meeting Tony’s eyes anymore, almost like he’s upset that Tony moved on, and the vindictive part of Tony wants to be happy about it, but another part wants to be angry because it isn’t fair. It’s not fair to act like Tony should stay stuck in time, forever longing for him when he already moved on with someone else first. It’s hypocritical and selfish, even if Tony is lying about there being anyone else.

“Well, I’m gonna go get a drink,” Tony says, pushing down every feeling. “Should catch up with everyone else, too, while I’m at it. I’ll talk to you later.”

He heads over to the bar and isn’t surprised when Sharon joins him a moment later, right after he orders a double shot of whiskey. She puts an arm around his shoulder and asks, “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Tony laughs, running a hand through his hair. “My ex is engaged to somebody else and apparently doing really fucking well. Meanwhile, I’m making up fake boyfriends that I’m taking it slow with, because last week I went on my first real date in eight months and cried in the bathroom in the middle of it. And then, at the end of the night, he literally told me to my face that he didn’t think a second date was a good idea. We weren’t even talking about it, Sharon. He said it unprompted when we were still ten minutes from his apartment, and I was driving.”

Sharon nods slowly as she processes the rant. “He told you he got engaged?”

“Yeah, thanks for not telling me, by the way. It was really fun to get blindsided by it.”

She ignores the complaint to ask, “What else did he tell you, exactly?”

“Oh, just the whole line about how you know when you know, and Felix is such a great guy, and all that bullshit.”

“Felix,” Sharon repeats.

Tony knocks back the rest of his drink and orders another. “Please tell me he’s not better looking than me. Tell me it’s a downgrade. Don’t lie, because I know I have to meet him tomorrow, but please give me something that will make this better.”

“Well, I can guarantee he’s not as attractive as you. But he’s a little too perfect, you know? Like how could this guy possibly be real, he’s so unbelievably perfect,” Sharon says.

“I told you to make me feel better, not worse.”

Sharon shakes her head with a smile, the arm around him tightening into an approximation of hug. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. I don’t think they’re going to last. He’s kind of flaky, too. Always cancelling at the last minute and all that. Bet he won’t even show tomorrow.”

The amusement on her face that she’s failing to hide confuses him. He’s starting to feel bad, though, for making the night about him when it should be about her and Nat.

Resolving not to dwell on it anymore, he squeezes the hand on his shoulder and says, “Alright, enough sad drinking, and definitely enough about me. We’re celebrating you and Nat and a lifetime of sickeningly wonderful happiness for both of you.”

Sharon grins, “Hell yeah, we are.”

“Shots?”

“Is that even a question?”

_____________

He wakes up with a headache and hazy memories. Shots of tequila that turned into shots of vodka when Nat got involved, then Clint’s terrible suggestion to try a shot of every liquor they had to offer. He vaguely remembers the round of toasts and drunken impromptu speeches from everyone, locking eyes with Bucky and failing to look away on both their parts. There’s a blur of wandering hands and heated, messy kisses. A bathroom stall turned into a cab ride which turned into his hotel room. He knows what he’ll find next to him when he opens his eyes, and guilt comes in full force.

“I know you’re awake,” Bucky says, voice still rough with sleep. It used to be Tony’s favorite sound in the world. “And I know we’re both sorry about what happened, but pretending to be asleep isn’t fixing nothin’.”

Tony shifts over to his back, and if there was any question before about what happened between them, the all too familiar ache in his body would answer it. He stares up at the ceiling to avoid the acres of bare skin on display next to him.

“You should probably leave,” Tony says to the walls. “I’m sure your fiancé is wondering where you are.”

“I doubt it.”

Tony puts an arm over his eyes, partly to block out the light that makes them ache and partly to hide his face. “Just go, okay? It was a mistake, and it won’t happen again, and we don’t have to talk about it.”

“Was it a mistake?” Bucky asks. “It didn’t feel like one to me.”

He doesn’t answer, and it’s soft and broken when Bucky says his name. Too much for him to handle.

Tony pushes back the blankets and searches for Bucky’s clothes in the mess they’ve made. He finds the shirt first and throws it at him. “You’re engaged, which means it was a mistake.”

His boxers are on the back of the couch, jeans right in front of the door, and they join the pile on Bucky’s lap. “You promised the rest of your life to somebody else, and I’m pretty sure fidelity is supposed to go with that.”

He tosses a shoe in the general direction of the bed, and it hits the nightstand with a loud thud. The second shoe is still in his hand when Bucky gets up and walks over to him, taking it and letting it drop to the floor.

His eyes hold a level of intensity that Tony has spent months dreaming about, and Tony couldn’t look away or move from this spot even if he tried.

“Felix isn’t real,” Bucky says. “I made him up when you asked, because I didn’t want to tell you the truth that I haven’t moved on in the slightest. That I’m so pathetic that I’ve spent the last eight months wearing an engagement ring that I bought for a guy who doesn’t love me anymore because I don’t know how to let him go.”

Tony stops breathing. “What?”

Bucky slides the ring from his finger, holding it between them so Tony can see the inscription. Always yours. He can’t remember the last time he heard the words get spoken.

“When?” Tony asks hoarsely. “When did you get that and why didn’t you ever ask me?”

“About a year ago,” Bucky says, slipping it back on his own finger. He sits back on the edge of the bed and stares down at it, twisting it around. “I thought about doing it on your birthday, but Nat and Sharon had just gotten engaged the week before and I didn’t want to take anything away from them. You were working a lot of late nights after that, and I thought it would be better to wait until things slowed down. You were so tired all the time, and you deserved a better proposal than when you’re falling asleep in the middle of dinner. It never slowed down, though. And then you got that big promotion and somehow we fell apart instead. If I’m honest, I still don’t really know how. One minute I’m getting ready to come with you, and the next you’re telling me not to bother.”

Tony sits down next to him, shoulders touching, and he pulls Bucky’s left hand into his. “You didn’t really want to go.”

“That’s not true,” Bucky says, but Tony shakes his head.

“All you talked about was how much you would miss New York. How much you’d miss your friends and your family and your job. Every day, everywhere we went. Even the fucking hot dog stands got sonnets about them. It really didn’t take a genius to figure out that you weren’t exactly looking forward to leaving.”

“I still would have gone for you,” Bucky argues. “I told you I would go anywhere with you, if it was what you wanted.”

“And then what? You move with me, and you’re miserable all the time, because my job never slows down so I’m still not around as much as you want, except now it’s compounded because you’re in a city that you hate with no one else that you know. You resent me for making you go, and the outcome is the same in the end either way.”

“Or I move with you, and I finally ask you to marry me like I’ve wanted to since almost the day we met. I find new friends and a new job, and even if it’s not perfect, it’s still worth it because at the end of the day I have a husband coming home to me.”

Tony runs his thumb over the ring and murmurs, “I wanted you to be happy. I didn’t think I could do that for you anymore.”

Bucky cups his cheek, tilting his head up to meet his eyes. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but baby, you’re an idiot.”

“Oh, thanks,” Tony laughs.

“You’re my idiot, if that helps.”

Tony smiles, still fragile but growing more hopeful. “Am I?”

“Always have been,” Bucky says. “Always will be if you stop assuming I’m going to leave you all the time. Let me decide for myself what I’m willing to sacrifice for us.”

Tony nods slowly, then says, “I’m sorry for ending it like that.”

“I’m sorry for making you feel like you had to.”

Tony climbs into his lap, circling his arms around his neck, and Bucky pulls him in closer with his hands on Tony’s hips. The ring is strange to feel against his skin, but also completely right. He wants it to stay there and to mean what it was always supposed to. Wants one of his own to match.

“We can fix it, right? We can be us again?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky says, and Tony’s heart sinks for just a moment. “Is your boyfriend as real as my fiancé?”

Tony laughs again in relief, “Yeah, they’d be a good pair.”

“I knew you had to be lying. You’ve never taken it slow in your life,” Bucky grins.

“Do you want me to start now?”

Bucky flips them over in one fluid motion, and he kisses up his throat as he murmurs, “Absolutely not.”

[blush-and-books]

Hi! I wasn’t sure if you were still taking requests but could you do #22 for Juke? Make it angsty if you want I’m in that type of mood today 😂

From this prompt list: Kissing someone’s cuts/bruises/scratches etc. High school AU, Luke is ~edgy~, Julie is the best friend in the whole world and he has every reason to be in love with her (which he is). IDK if you’re still in an angsty mood but I made it angsty. I also went off with this one because I was having too much fun. Thank you <333

“Guys, please don’t tell Julie.”

It was early in the morning before school, and Luke was hunched over one of the dirty sinks in the bathroom while trying to nurse his bloody nose. Alex was twirling one of his drumsticks between his fingers in a nervous habit, and Reggie was propped up against one of the stall dividers. 

Luke’s face was bruised and bloody from both his nose and his own scraped knuckles that keep brushing against his cheek on accident. 

“She’ll find out,” Alex sighs, and Luke glares at him through the mirror.  “Fuck, Bobby will probably be bragging about it,” Reggie adds. 

Luke, Reggie, and Alex had been planning on going into the music room before school to quickly test out some new material that they had been working on with Julie for their rehearsal after school that day. Normally, the music teacher lets them go into a practice room and mess around, but this morning, their teacher was distracted: By Bobby Wilson. 

AKA their ex-bandmate.

Who they had found with the music teacher, hunched over a computer, playing a recording he had made of a song with eerily familiar lyrics. 

He had recorded songs that Luke wrote when they were all still in a band. And he was showing them off to their music teacher as his own. 

Their music teacher was singing Bobby’s praises, telling him how proud she was that he was developing a career, and then she excused herself to go make some sheet music copies for one of her classes -- and that is when Luke made his entrance. 

Long story short: Bobby had a black eye and some cuts on his face from Luke’s rings, and Luke had a bloody nose, some busted knuckles, and a bruise blossoming on his cheek. 

And the last thing he wanted was Julie, his best friend, finding out. She would be so mad. 

“Well then just let me handle it, please,” Luke spits. “Don’t go running to her saying ‘Luke and Bobby beat each other up-’”

The door to the boys bathroom flings open -- and an angry girl with dark, curly hair storms in. 

Julie Molina. 

While, under any other circumstances, Luke’s day would be made just by seeing her -- he knows it’s about to get a lot worse.

“Lucas Michael Patterson, you better have a fucking valid reason for getting your ass kicked or I swear to God-”

“Julie-” 

“Bobby? Seriously? I thought you decided he wasn’t worth your time?”

“If you’ll just let me explain-”

“Maybe we should go,” Reggie cuts in. Luke rounds on him. 

“You-” He points at Reggie, then Alex, “you two weren’t supposed to tell her.”

Julie speaks up again. 

“You told them to hide this from me?” “I texted her SOS as soon as we broke you and Bobby up,” Alex explains, avoiding Luke’s eyes. “Sorry. We thought she would know a little more about first aid then we do.” 

Reggie walks over to the door, and Alex follows him before Luke can tear into them more.

“Thanks, Julie,” Reggie says right before grabbing Alex’s wrist and pulling him out of the room. Luke is left alone with Julie -- and Angry Julie is not a fun Julie to be around. 

“Jules, I-”

“Save it.” 

She puts her backpack on the floor and surprisingly pulls out a bag of bandages and a container of rubbing alcohol. A small package of tissues follows, which she instantly passes to him to hold to his nose. 

Relief fills him. They’re the soft kind -- not the sandpaper stuff that the school keeps in the bathrooms. 

“Thanks for… Doing all this,” he mumbles, voice nasally. Guilt pangs at his chest when her scowl deepens and she still won’t meet his eyes. 

“Well, I knew you wouldn’t have gone to the nurse, and someone needs to make sure you don’t get an infection.”

She’s right. The nurse means admitting he got into a fight to a school employee, admitting he got into a fight to a school employee means suspension, and suspension means an upcoming raging argument with his parents. 

He’s filled with a burning warmth when she suddenly grabs his hand -- still not making eye contact with him. His knuckles are pretty torn up, and Julie starts to remove his rings one by one. 

Luke’s heart breaks a little at how much he wants to lean into her while watching her do it. He wants her to do this again, preferably when she’s not mad at him, preferably in his room or in the studio while they write songs. 

“Now,” Julie finally speaks up and breaks his trance of distraction. “What happened?”

As he inhales a deep breath, he slowly removes the tissue from his nose, which has minimized it’s bleeding. 

“Well-”

Luke’s cut off by a stream of cleansing alcohol running over his cuts and stinging every square millimeter of space. 

“Fuck! Ow!” Julie’s face remains expressionless as Luke tries to pull his hand away, but she keeps it firm in his grip. His breathing gets heavier as he tries to face the pain. “Okay, I know I fucked up, I’m sorry. I deserved that. Let me explain.”

Another drop of the alcohol splashes on his knuckles. As he hisses, Julie gives him an expectant look. 

“I’m waiting, Patterson.”

With a few more deep breaths, Luke starts. 

“We found out that Bobby recorded our songs. My songs. Songs that were supposed to go to Sunset Curve, and he stole them, and recorded them, and played them for Ms. Harrison.” Julie’s grip tightens on his fingers. He hopes she understands his anger. “And she was just so happy about it, and was giving him all these compliments, and… When she left, I confronted him, and he was being a dick, and I just… Got mad.”

Julie finishes pressing a towel to his knuckles to wipe away some of the blood, and begins to softly wrap a bandage around his hand. Her touch is more gentle than it was a minute ago. 

“Who threw the first punch?” 

Luke sighs. 

“I did.” The bandage is tugged tightly around his knuckles. “He said that I’ll never have a band ‘with that Julie girl’ that’s worth anything close to what Sunset Curve was, and that he was making a success out of what wouldn’t have been.” 

The bandage loosens. 

“I’m sorry that Bobby is a song-stealing asshole,” Julie finally says, finishing up the bandage on his right hand. Now, time for his left, so he turns fully towards her and lifts the hand towards her to take. His heart flutters when her fingers wrap around his, but it’s quickly killed by the pierce of the rubbing alcohol. “But you know you shouldn’t resort to violence. You should be the bigger person.”

“Being the bigger person doesn’t exist when you’re a teenage boy,” Luke retorts, only to be defeated by a strong pour of the alcohol once again. “But you’re right. I know you’re right.”

“As I always am.”

Well, he can’t argue with that one. 

“As you always are.”

Finally, Luke catches a small smirk on his best friend’s face, which fills him with relief. Temporarily, his attention is taken off of his burning knuckles as she calmly finishes wiping away the blood and beginning to wrap a bandage around his left hand. 

“At least tell me you kicked his ass,” she says, out of the blew. “I want to know it was worth it.”

Even in the current situation, Luke grins wider than he has all day. Julie never fails to bring it out of him. 

“I mean, not to brag, but he definitely looks worse.” Julie looks up at him, clearly wanting a full description of the other party’s injuries. “His knuckles are trashed too, but I got in a black eye and my rings tore him up pretty good. He looks like he got attacked by a raccoon.”

“As he should,” she thinks aloud. Luke nods vigorously in agreement. 

They stand in silence under the aggressively fluorescent lighting of the bathroom, and Luke spends the next thirty seconds just staring at Julie like a lovesick idiot. She looks tired (like all of them do, every morning -- they’re teenagers for God’s sake), but her hair is down and curly and beautiful, and her sweatshirt looks beyond cozy. 

Suddenly, Julie lifts Luke’s mummified left hand to her lips and presses a light, slow kiss to it. Followed by another one. 

And then, she finally looks up at him through her long eyelashes, which takes his breath away completely. Her feet shuffle a small step closer to him, and for a moment he panics that she’s going to kiss him, or he’ll lose his self control and kiss her, but what she does instead makes his heart pound just the same:

She lifts herself onto her tiptoes and kisses the oval-shaped bruise painted across his cheekbone. 

His hand, with a mind of its own, comes up to cup the back of her neck and keep her as close as possible, which she doesn’t fight. Instead, she brushes her nose against his, and today just went from being the worst day ever to the best day ever, and-

The school bell rings. 

Julie pulls away. 

Hastily, she’s tucking her medical supplies back into her bag, and avoiding his eyes once again. 

“Try not to get in another fight, please,” she sends him an awkward smile as she zips her backpack, “I only brought the two bandages.” And before he can even blink, she’s gone.

[simp-for-mha-men]

𝕔𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕟 (𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕥𝕒 𝕒𝕚𝕫𝕒𝕨𝕒 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣)

Request by @hermionie-is-my-queen​: Hey! Not necessarily a request, and kind of a scenario proposal: but imagine aizawa and reader adopted a cat a while back together, and the cat gets sick, or has to be put down, and it’s just some comforting fluff? Idk if this falls into the category of no angst so if it does instead maybe visiting a shelter to adopt a new kitty? Tysm anyway! Soft aizawa and soft kitties are my fav

A/N: Yes, yes, and yes! I am so in love with this whole idea. I took a little bit of inspiration from the English voice actor’s Tik Tok and from where I live for this one. School just started back up, too, so I’ll now be taking a bit longer to reply to requests. Sorry! Anyways, I really hope you enjoy it!

Genre: fluffy times with a rescue cat and your boyfriend, angst in the first half due to animal death 🌧️💜

Word count: 2.7k

♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥

It had only been a month. One month ago, you lost your precious siamese cat, Willow. Your boyfriend, Shouta Aizawa, had given her to you once you moved into your first apartment together. She was a gift that kept on giving, whether it was hairballs or purrs. She kept you company through the day while your boyfriend was teaching his students, and you both would welcome him home with kisses and cuddles every day.

Aizawa loved Willow just as much as you did. You were both the lights in his life, and without you, he would feel incomplete. After the worst days at U.A., he could come home and feel at peace due to the loves of his life. It tore him up inside that Willow was gone, but he knew the loss broke you apart even worse than it did him.

He adopted Willow when she was 11. The shelter he went to, usually just to browse, was going to put her down just because of her age. Aizawa formed a bond when he looked into her ocean blue eyes. He knew that she would be perfect not only for him but for you as well. In a matter of minutes, the adoption papers were signed and finalized. A beautiful forest green bow was placed around her neck, and she was on her way to meet the better half of her new owner. The three of you were inseparable when home. Midnight cuddles and afternoon snacks were always a favorite among your little family. Despite you and Aizawa never talking about kids in your future, you felt like Willow was your daughter. It was true perfection and bliss. Sadly, it couldn’t last forever.

When Willow turned 13, she started acting strange. She began hiding around the house more, throwing up whenever she ate, and losing an excessive amount of weight. You decided a check-up was in order, and Aizawa whole-heartedly agreed. Praying for a fluke incident was what you did, but deep down, you knew that wasn’t going to be the case no matter how much you wished it to be. Her vet told you both that she had cancer and wouldn’t live much longer. This caused your world to come spiraling down.

How someone handles the five stages of grief depends on the person. For you, Willow was absolutely fine. You were in absolute denial. Over the two years you and Aizawa raised her, she was always healthy. There was absolutely no way that she could have cancer. Healthy cats don’t get cancer, right? You went about your life with Willow as if everything was normal. Aizawa tried to knock some sense into you, but you blocked it out. A week later, a certain piece of information triggered the second stage of grief.

Aizawa told you that he would be staying home to take care of Willow with you, since she was living her final weeks. Saying you were furious would be an understatement. You took your boyfriend onto the balcony and yelled at him for 15 minutes about how Willow was completely normal. You told him that everything was fine and that she would live longer than what the vet said. Seeing you were too stubborn to change, Aizawa refused talking to you about the matter but still took those extra days off. It lasted like this another week before another trip to the vet.

Once you got home that night, you found yourself on your knees next to the bed. You were praying to whatever deity was in the sky or under the ground to save Willow. You didn’t know if bargaining with the immortal was a sane idea, but you had entered the third stage. Aizawa watched you do this every hour of the day, it seemed. He heard you muttering to yourself in your sleep, begging for Willow’s safety. None of this worked, though. Two weeks after the visit, Willow was back at the vet to be put down for good.

The last month had gone by agonizingly slow. Your boyfriend was back at work, leaving you alone to your own devices. The depression had been the longest stage. You wondered to yourself if you would ever get to the acceptance part of the five stages. Nothing you did to try and clear your mind worked. You tried to write, draw, sing, and dance, but nothing seemed successful. Most days, you were confined to your side of your shared bed, sobbing your eyes out until they looked unusually red and puffy.

Losing an animal shouldn’t hurt this much. You had a cat when you were younger, and when she was put down, you were only upset for a week before understanding it was time to move on. Why did losing Willow hurt so much. The question plagued you day and night. You racked your brain trying to figure out why this pain wouldn’t subside. Why did it sting so badly? Why did the tears keep falling?

When you were starting dinner one evening, your boyfriend came home. He seemed to be in a good mood, which was strange for someone like him. He came around, gave you a quick peck on the cheek, and leaned against the counter next to the stove.

“How was your day, babe?” you asked, mustering up as much fake happiness as possible.

You flashed your lover a quick smile, hoping it hid the pain better than you thought it did. However, you had been dating this man for 3 years. He knew you all too well. Willow’s death had affected you so much, which caused him to mull over it for longer than expected. An animal’s death was, of course, sad, but people usually got over it quickly. Why was it taking you longer?

“Are you alright?” your boyfriend questioned, placing a hand on your upper arm.

Sighing, you answered, “Of course I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

You both began a waltz to avoid each other. You stood on the opposite side of the island, setting the places on the table for the both of you to eat. Right as Aizawa met you, you sauntered off back to the stove to turn off the burner. It went on like this for much longer while your words went at each other.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“(y/n)...you’re not.”

“Just shut up, ok?”

“Listen to me...”

“SHUT UP!”

Suddenly, a bright flash of lightning struck outside. The deafening boom from the sky sounded next. In a matter of seconds, a downpour began outside and inside the apartment. Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears. Aizawa froze, giving you time to finally realize why Willow’s death meant so much to you. It was right in front of you the whole time, but your ignorance caused blindness. Just as your boyfriend began to approach you, the tears and truth spilled over.

“She was like our baby,” you began. “Once I moved in with you, I was so scared that you would break up with me. Willow brought us together. No matter what had happened on a bad day, she would fix us back up. It’s like I lost a part of our relationship, Shouta.”

Aizawa was shocked to say the least. In actuality, Aizawa was completely caught off by your statement. He never knew you felt this way about Willow. He knew you had developed a close bond with the feline, but he should’ve noticed sooner the parental role you took for her. He felt like a terrible boyfriend. He felt like he should’ve found a way to keep Willow alive longer. He felt like her death was his fault.

“(y/n), I’m sorry I should’ve--”

“Meow.”

Both of you came to your senses. Did you really just hear a meow? Had Willow come out of her grave to come back to you both? Aizawa looked at you, causing your tears to stop for a moment. Another flash of lightning struck, followed by the familiar thunder. Then, you heard it again.

“Meeeeow.”

Your brain was going crazy. You were already running on endorphins due to the sudden outburst you had at your lover. Now, you felt your fight or flight responses kick in. There’s no way there was a cat at your apartment. Sure, you lived in an area where an animal could get lost, but a stray cat would never be near your complex.

“Meow.”

Taking a deep breath in, you tried to calm your nerves. Silently cursing your boyfriend’s senses, you heard him shuffling over to you. He placed his hands on your hips and kissed your forehead. Aizawa felt guilty. He knew that a cat wouldn’t be outside in this weather, especially if it was a stray. It was just his mind playing tricks on him. His guilty conscience was in full force, or maybe it wasn’t?

“Meeeeow.”

“Ok,” you said, slowly tilting your head up to meet your boyfriend’s gaze. “Please tell me you’re hearing the meowing, too.”

“It’s real?” Aizawa asked, gazing at you with confused eyes.

Shaking your head, you slithered out of his arms. Despite your mind telling you this was a bad idea, you decided to stick with your sudden plan. You were going to check outside. You didn’t know what you would find, but it was worth the risk. Wherever this cat was, you had to find it. You weren’t doing this for you, however, but for Willow.

Placing your hand on the front door knob, you unlocked it and slowly opened it just a little bit. That’s when you saw it. A beautiful tabby cat sat on your front mat, meowing to its heart’s content. It was drenched, laying against the door in search of some warmth. The poor little angel was shivering, but it looked up upon sensing your presence.

“Well, hello there,” you greeted, opening the door wider.

“Meeeeow.”

You bent down and sat on your knees, cooing the little creature forward. Taking your invitation, it sauntered over to you. Once your hand made contact with its back, the cat began rubbing its wet body all over your leg. Laughing slightly, you turned to look at Aizawa.

He was staring at you with true adoration in his eyes. He knew from the moment he met you that you were the one, but this tender moment between you and a stray cat solidified that even more. It was perfect. You were perfect. Despite the past month, he realized what this new stray would mean to you immediately. Willow sent him or her as a gift from heaven. That much had to be true. It was her way of saying that everything would be alright.

“I’ll get some food and water for the little one,” Aizawa said, walking over to first close the door.

“Make sure to get a towel first,” you replied. “I don’t want this poor baby getting sick from being to cold. Right, sweetie?”

The cat gazed at you with thankfulness in its eyes. You felt much different than you had just a few minutes ago. You were no longer sad about Willow. Instead, you were happy her pain had ended when it did, even if it wasn’t in the best way. Somehow, this little stray just happened to choose your doorstep. Your heart was starting to feel whole again. That’s how you came to a simple conclusion: this was fate. The stage of acceptance was finally in your sight.

You and Aizawa resumed your waltz around the kitchen, but this time, things were much different. It felt like the day Aizawa first brought Willow home. You immediately took on the role of the parent, watching your new friend’s every move to make sure it didn’t hurt itself. Once Aizawa brought you a towel, you sat on the couch and began drying off the cat. You discovered during this that you had found an adorable little boy, proud and frisky from his recent adventure.

Aizawa set the food and water out, luring the tabby out of your lap and to the kitchen. He lapped everything greedily, only further confirming that this was indeed a stray. Walking over to your boyfriend, you stopped once you reached his side.

“I’m sorry,” you began, lacing your fingers with his.

“Oh, don’t be,” he replied, smoothly changing the position you both were in so he could snuggle your neck. “I should’ve taken off time from work and been there for you. It was wrong of me to think our lives would go back to normal.”

“But, still..”

“(y/n)...just let me hold you.”

You did what he asked. You let him wrap his arms around you as you both watched your new boy. Unspoken between the two of you was what was going to happen with your newfound cat: you were going to keep him. Of course, he would need to pay for his shots, a proper bath, and new amenities, but that was a thing for the future. Aizawa knew you would bring it up tomorrow morning, worrying about it profusely, and you knew Aizawa would tell you to stop worrying so much, peppering your face in kisses as a distraction.

Once the cat was finished eating, he walked over and began rubbing himself against Aizawa’s leg. Realizing he needed to be warmed up, you reached down and picked him up. He clearly enjoyed being showered in attention and didn’t pull away when you both began talking to him.

“What do you think?” Aizawa questioned.

You knew what he was talking about: his name. Despite only finding this cat outside of your doorstep 20 minutes ago, you both knew this was his new forever home. The name was an important part of claiming a pet, which you made sure to educate Aizawa about before naming Willow. This, however, wasn’t a tough decision like Willow’s name.

“I was thinking Thunder,” you replied softly, gazing into your lover’s eyes.

He hummed in response, alerting you that he liked that name. You purposely chose that name due to the circumstances you found him in, but you also had an ulterior motive. You eventually wanted to get another cat and name it Lightning. Why? Easy answer: why not?

Suddenly, your boyfriend let go of your waist. Turning around, you noticed he began walking off to the bedroom. It was only 7:30, but, of course, your lover was already exhausted. That was one of the qualities you loved about him, though. He could always fall asleep easily.

“You didn’t eat dinner,” you called after him.

“I know,” he replied in a low voice, “but wouldn’t you rather fall asleep with the man you love?”

His words made you blush, but he wasn’t wrong. With Thunder in your arms and dinner long forgotten, you made your way over to your bedroom. Upon entering, you saw your boyfriend was already laying down and waiting for you to join him. You placed Thunder on the bed and went to lay down next to your lover. He placed his arms around you, making you fell safe and secure before someone interrupted you both.

Thunder began slowly crawling up to lie in between you. Chuckling, Aizawa left a little bit of room between your bodies for your new baby to curl up between you both. It felt natural. It felt like home again. It was just you, your boyfriend, and your cat. Willow, you could tell, was smiling down from heaven. You knew she could be fully at peace now knowing you were happy.

“I love you so much,” you mumbled to your boyfriend, allowing your eyes to close.

“I love you, too, kitten,” Aizawa replied, drifting off to sleep and allowing your breaths to match one another.

This was home. This was family. This was perfection for the both of you. Now, Aizawa went to bed with a single question on his mind. It was quite simple but also heavy. When was he going to place that wonderful ring on your finger?

[iamanartichoke]

In which I react to the trailer, bit by bit, because why not? 

This post is long and image-heavy; sorry, dashboard. 

So first of all, the line that keeps running through my head is a line from a fic AU - Have Tesseract, Will Travel by WinterDusk - wherein Alternate Timeline Loki catches up with Post-Endgame Thor. It’s a glorious series and everyone should go read it right now.

“The Tesseract skids to a stop at Loki’s feet. Loki, not being entirely stupid, picks it up.”

It’s such a good line that it should be, like, a narrative voiceover or something. But anyway. 

I have to say, I love seeing Loki’s “old” armour again, as opposed to what he was wearing in Ragnarok/IW (and what he died in, sorry, what?). His hair is definitely doing something inconsistent, but I’m not terribly bothered by it. (I’m glad his hair looks natural and a bit chaotic, as opposed to the stiff, awkward wigs.) And he’s landed in a desert - so, where has he ended up? On Earth? On another planet? Another galaxy? I guess we’ll find out. 

“You’re taking me somewhere to kill me.” 

I think it’s interesting that Loki assumes that they’re going to try to kill him. He doesn’t look afraid, he doesn’t look surprised, just resigned: You’re going to kill me. I think it makes sense that this would be his reaction, in that he can’t fucking catch a break and he knows it. I’m interested to see how they managed to overpower him enough to get that collar around his neck, which I’m assuming is something that suppresses his magic. A fight scene? 

Another note: the scar on his forehead has already healed up; depending on how quickly he heals, this could be a few days or a few weeks after the opening shot. Either he wasn’t captured right away, or he’s been sitting in a cell for awhile before they deign to bring him elsewhere. 

Also, I didn’t recognize Owen Wilson right away. He looks like a kinda weird combination of Howard Stark and General Ross, lmao. 

Idk about the “you love to talk” line bc Loki doesn’t really like to talk - but, it’s also fair to say that the assumption could be made if one was basing his understanding of Loki on what we saw in Avengers (similar to how Tony says Loki’s a “full-tilt diva,” it doesn’t make it true, just makes it someone else’s perception).

I really like Loki’s “wtf” expression when he looks at Owen Wilson, though. 

Friendly reminder that Loki is the protagonist in his series, which means he’s probably going to going up against whatever big bad this is. Which means we get to see him in the context of being the one the audience is rooting for, instead of the villain. 

I think Loki looks the most beautiful here. Look at that face, that tiny little smirk, that luscious hair. Aw yisss. More of this Loki please (for aesthetic purposes). 

I like his expression here; reminds me a bit of when he’s brought in front of Odin in TDW, but a bit more uncertain - as if he’s thinking, I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I’m not going to let you know that I’m concerned. If that makes sense. 

I also dig the music. 

I wonder if they’re showing Loki possible futures (considering he’s now created a new timeline) or if it’s strictly Loki-Prime’s life, and if it’s the latter, I am super curious to see how he reacts to the loss of Asgard and the subsequent run-in with Thanos. I hope he does not get shown his death because, butter-knife-stupidity aside, it was so brutal that showing it to him would just be cruel, I would think. 

This shot is interesting to me bc it’s from Loki’s POV - it’s what Loki sees when he realizes he’s surrounded. So where are these images coming from, anyway? Maybe the collar isn’t a magic thing, maybe it gives them the ability to see inside of Loki’s mind - or, to at least pull images from it. Idk. I like how Loki is still not showing much emotion, though; he’s just sitting there, arms folded, like okay, sure. 

Until here. What does Loki see that makes him close his eyes and turn away? He looks annoyed, he looks exhausted, he looks fed up. My first thought was that he was turning away at the shot of the Avengers - the reminder that he lost, or that he failed. Maybe Owen Wilson was saying something taunting about it. But really, it could be anything. It’s a really interesting moment, though, because it’s a genuine reaction from Loki and I’m hoping that it implies he feels some kind of way about New York and perhaps will talk about it - like that he lost on purpose, or he’ll mention Thanos, or something. Again, Loki being the protagonist means that there’s a ton of potential for really getting Loki’s side of things, and if they’re going through his memories, then we might get to see Loki talk about those memories. 

This looks like Loki’s gone from being the TVA’s prisoner to working for them, which is interesting, but not entirely unexpected, if we’re to assume that the TVA’s interests lie in defeating the hooded big bad from before and they need Loki to do it. I’m also curious if they never intended to capture him long-term at all but, in fact, sought him out because of his magic/skills/etc in order to help them. That would also make sense - that it’s more of a recruiting thing than a punishment thing - considering that Loki isn’t even the one who fucked up the timeline to begin with and that the Avengers are the ones responsible for that. 

We love a flippy-knife Loki, don’t we? 

Post-apocalyptic future? Potential of what could have happened if Loki (and, by extension, Thanos) had won? Or an alternate timeline altogether? I have no idea. Loki looks so smol though, all alone in the ruins. 

I really hope this is a wig and Loki didn’t cut his hair, bc this just looks like Tom with short black hair, lmao. Like the Night Manager with a Loki smirk. It’s not bad, I just don’t care for it. I wonder how Asgard will react when Loki shows up looking like that. 

Action shots! Loki doing stuff! Fighting! Random twirly girl! I’m here for all of the action sequences and I’m not sorry. 

Imagine being that girl. Hoo. 

Everyone was talking about Sam jumping out of the plane without a parachute and haha, another one like Steve, but just look at Loki’s bad ass soaring through the clouds. Also, I am a loser, but the one inconsistency in the “Loki is DB Cooper” theory - for me - is that I thought it was night time and raining when DB jumped. But, that’s just me. 

Also, has Loki always pronounced Heimdall like that? HeimDAAALL, like with a hard A? Or is that also just me? 

And there’s the Bifrost, pulling short-haired DB Cooper Loki to Asgard. 

(That little window for the Falcon trailer came up and I couldn’t minimize it, sorry.) 

I have no idea what is going on here, but I have to say, that gravelly come on! What did you expect? is all kinds of pleasing to me. I have always loved Tom’s deep Loki voice. I am assuming this is something from the comics or that it’s an alternate reality Loki or something like that, but again, context matters and this was really the only part of the trailer that (the first time) made me go, uh can we not? Who knows. 

And there we are. My honest opinion is that, while some of it seems questionable, it overall seems kind of promising to me? I think that if you read between the lines, so to speak, and pick up on all of Loki’s little tells and micro-expressions, what we’ll probably end up seeing is a combination of Thor 1/TDW Loki with a side of Avengers and some Ragnarok-flavored sprinkles. I also think that the trailer has probably sliced up and served the juiciest bits to appeal not just to Loki’s core fanbase but to the Ragnarok fans and to the casual MCU fans who may want to tune in for fun. 

Again, we’re getting approximately two full-length movies worth of a story in which Loki is the protagonist. And I’ll just say it: my initial overall reaction was that I liked it. I’m apprehensive, but I’m hopeful. Look at it this way: nothing in this series will be worse than what we already had to endure in Infinity War. 

So, yeah. We’ll see what happens, but I think it’ll be okay and, even if it’s not? Well, on the bright side, there’s more footage and content to inspire brilliant fanworks (fics, music vids, art, etc), which is just the new life that needs to be breathed into the Loki fandom right now. In my opinion.  

[normal-thoughts-official]

Ok so Camille’s an asshole on that we can all agree, but I’m really tired of people in the fandom acting like she’s just your typical annoying ex and she makes poor uwu Alec feel insecure cause fuck that. Camille was 100% abusive and manipulative but I also think she was sexually abusive too I mean seeing what she did to Simon and kissing Magnus without his consent even though he was clearly uncomfortable, consent doesn’t really seem to be an issue for her-

I feel like she definitely manipulated his fear of loneliness and not being good enough, to suit her needs. Like Magnus isn’t in the mood for sex or it’s especially triggering on a certain day, either way he’s not up for it but Camille makes him do it anyway. She threatens to leave or go find someone else who can fulfill her needs or take care of her when Magnus won’t, ‘I mean does he even love her when he won’t do this one simple thing for her?’ 

So he just lets her do what she wants, even if he’s having a full blown panic attack Camille doesn’t care or she’ll just leave insulting him saying she can’t deal with this right now and leaving Magnus with no idea when or if she’ll be back. So the next time she asks he hesitates less or initiates it more even when he’s not in the mood so she won’t leave and yeah I have a lot of emotions relating to this. and now I’m thinking about how it’ll affect his future relationships, not even talking about Alec but other people - I have this headcanon where when he got away from Camille and is healing, him ragnor and Catarina live together in ragnors cottage or somewhere away from people for awhile so Magnus can slowly heal and focus on himself and unlearn Camille’s abuse with the help of his family 

But despite what this fandom says Magnus has always been a helper and a selfless person to the point of self destruction. He’s unable to prioritise his own health and he wouldn’t be able to slow down and feel the full force of the abuse he experienced cause he feels like he’ll fall apart if he does and ‘no one wants a pathetic crybaby who breaks down when someone moves their hand too fast in his direction it wasn’t even that bad he’s just exaggerating like he always does this is why Camille doesn’t love him back’ (the ‘’ parts were meant to be strikethrough to signify Magnus’ inner thoughts but that doesn’t work on asks)

And he’s scared to get in another relationship cause he doesn’t think he’d be able to speak up for himself if they turned violent or controlling, he’s scared that if they did he’d just let them so he closes himself off from people puts these walls around him and a bright smile on his face that doesn’t let anyone think there’s anything wrong. And theres so much pain going on in the world ‘they have it much worse than him anyway’ and Magnus tries to help the best he can as he always does and he’s always there for people to lean on without any reciprocation and he’s so emotionally and physically tired and he’s not sure how much longer he can take it, almost considers going back to blackfairs bridge ‘really he’d be doing the world a favour’ but theres too many bad memories and he promised his family he would try so he holds on and then he finds Raphael and that obviously doesn’t fix everything but- I was going to continue this but it’s two am in my country and honesty it’s too long already😅 sorry for the rant it’s just a lot of emotions. Im so tired of the ‘Camille’s an annoying ex who keeps getting in the way of my favourite gay ship😠’ metas and needed to let out some feelings before I explode from my hate for Camille

UGH ANON HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE NOT ONLY A GENIUS BUT ALSO MY NEW BEST FRIEND, AN INTELLECTUAL, AND COMPLETELY RIGHT. YOU ARE SO CORRECT!!! idk if uve read my other post that i posted while i was waiting for you but we no longer have the same hat we are SHARING the hat!! i can't believe i got this ask right after i had just made that long ass rant and was in so much need to talk about this like ugh are you my guardian angel. i love you more than anyone else ive ever met

ok ok ok coherent thoughts ok i can do this. first of all THE SALT how does it feel to have vision and coherency. ppl writing camille as just an annoying ex or a bad ex or even as like "oh they both made mistakes and it ended up terrible" drives me UP THE WALL. camille was explicitly abusive, so much so that magnus CANONICALLY WAS UNABLE TO ALLOW PEOPLE TO GET CLOSE TO HIM FOR ALMOST A CENTURY. and she was shown to be abusive, both in the physical sense as you have reminded us so brilliantly and in the sense that her whole "choose me" speech? like she doesn't have to literally say the words "no one but me would ever love you" for that to be exactly what she's saying. she's obviously playing with his insecurities and putting him down while presenting her as his savior, it's CLASSIC ABUSE. she was written as such a perfect to-the-book abuser that it honestly shocks me like they did that really all they ticked all the boxes. the way she immediately launched to talk about alec's mortality too, the way she was obviously trying to make them fight and draw them apart - it wasn't a jealousy thing, it is just that she's abusive and she wants him isolated so she can toy with him and manipulate him 

EVEN SALTIER WHEN THEY MAKE IT ABOUT ALEC BEING INSECURE LIKE. especially because canonically he literally watched camille kiss magnus and didn't care, which was sexy of him because i was dreading some jealousy drama or something but instead he was just like. obviously she did it to hurt you. i only care in the sense that she's a fucking bitch. we stan! 

as for how she treated him! oof i think the same thing with the same words dioajdsaoij it always circled back to "why can't you do this for me?" in and outside of sex - i mentioned that in a conversation in the comments of my other post but i think that with camille the sexual abuse was really just an extension of the regular abuse, so they bleed together and are not really separable in that sense. at every turn, he had to prove his worth, and she used his fear of loneliness both in the sense that she amplified it and made it seem like the only way to not be lonely was to be with her, and that she gave him just enough for him not to feel desperately lonely so she could string him along. not to mention, they both always go back to how magnus supposedly "owes" her, and yes, it's because of the bridge, of course, but there's also that underlying tone of "because she put up with him and gave him affection when no one else would". even when what she did was nowhere close to real affection. so it's both the bridge and the after. she could have saved him and left, but she stayed. that's why he feels he owes her, and she will absolutely use it

AND UR SO RIGHT ABOUT MAGNUS BEING UNABLE TO PRIORITIZE HIS OWN HEALTH UGH UGH UGH UGH like he has no choice for a while because she left him fucking broken and seeing the way she treats him and the amount of shit he puts up with i can only imagine how far she had to go for him to reach a breaking point and leave her for real. but as soon as he could pretend to have himself together he just threw himself out there. and i believe that he felt guilty for having catarina and ragnor take care of him when he abandoned them because of camille - obviously that's not what happened, she manipulated him into staying away from them, made his life hell whenever he wanted to hang out with them until he no longer had the energy to put up a fight to keep in contact with the people he loves, but it's what he feels that happened, and most likely what camille herself eventually started to tell him happened once they had been pulled away enough. ("you're gonna leave me? and go back to who? your little friends who tried to pit you against me from day one? they're just gonna say 'i told you so', magnus. and why would they take you back when you left them before? when was the last time you even saw them? you chose this, you chose me, and now you're gonna come back to them and expect them to welcome you with open arms? you selfish little prick")

AND RAPHAEL!!! raphael was so important, honestly, we say that magnus didn't let anyone into his heart but obviously raphael was the exception and EXTREMELY important for his healing. it's a complicated relationship because he's sort of a father figure for rapha, and as such, he doesn't allow himself to be completely vulnerable around him, because that's not "his role". but! he was the first person whom magnus let in. and they obviously know each other deeply ("i hate to see you like this" even though magnus looked completely put together to the outside eye) and are plenty affectionate ("sweet boy", the hugs, the way rapha talked about magnus with so much love and awe in his eyes and voice) and trusting (the way raphael went to magnus' loft, not his own damn clan, when he was tortured...). i know this fandom likes to pretend that they pretend to hate each other but NO THEY DON'T they are openly caring and loving with each other fucking fight me on this

anyway, my point is that raphael was the first person he allowed himself to trust, and of course, part of that is simply because raphael was vulnerable and in need and like you said he can't just stay still when he sees someone struggling. but to care for raphael eventually had to mean to open up to him and when he welcomed raphael in, he gained a new member to his family. raphael is his kid. that's no small thing. their bond goes deep and it's extremely important because again, after camille magnus wouldn't allow people to get close to his heart, because he was scared of how they could use that against him. raphael was his first, and the only reason magnus was able to open himself up for romantic love again (which was an extra step, not because romantic love is more important or deeper, but because it's specifically the kind of love that camille used against him, and thus it makes him even more scared) was because he had already been relearning trust and platonic love with rapha

rapha did him good!!! there's a reason he calls him "sweet boy" okay. and rapha cares about him and he NOTICES WHEN HE'S IN A BAD SHAPE EVEN THROUGH ALL OF MAGNUS' WALLS and he specifically didn't want magnus involved with the camille drama even when it had obviously gotten out of hand because he wanted to keep him safe and away from her!!! i want to be shot in the face!!! they love each other so much! fuck!

and also that implies that raphael knows about camille which means he might be the first person who met magnus post-camille and heard the story, which means that he might be (and probably is) the first person who was never involved that magnus opened up about this to. if that ain't some powerful and important shit i don't know what is. because part of abuse is that you can't talk about it - there's this sense of shame and guilt both from staying and from not staying more, especially because magnus canonically still feels like he owes her... aaaaa

this answer is all over the place im sorry but my point is you are correct, camille is a textbook abuser not just a shitty ex, she fucked up his head and made him unable to open up for a long time, and the first person that helped him break those walls was raphael and they LOVE EACH OTHER VERY MUCH AND DEEPLY thank you for your attention

[ghost-in-the-stalls]

What are ur tilda hcs?

Okay im finally gonna answer this!! Thank you so much for asking!!! I love receiving asks and I love sharing my headcanons. Sorry again it's so late ❤❤❤

This isn't gonna be nearly as well worded and eloquent as I originally planned. The first time I wrote it it basically became a drabble about her life. And then I lost that whole draft. Lmao

I just don't have it in me to recreate that whole thing again but I still wanna share my headcanons about her because I do have a lot!

I also wanna say this is in no way to like... excuse her behavior or try and redeem her. She was a terrible person. But people aren't born terrible. And I like taking 2 dimensional fictional women and making them make sense. So this isn't to excuse but instead to explain? I guess?

cw for all the shit you expect with the minyards by now, but specifically drug addiction and statutory rape. Also this is LONG so its going under a cut.

So first of all, I imagine her and Luther as being half siblings. Their father was a preacher or something- someone with a big role in their church's community and a big reputation of being a reliable, wise, holy man.

When Luther was maybe around 3 years old, there was this teenage girl in the congregation who would often come to Mr. Hemmick for advice, guidance, comfort, etc. She didn't quite fit in in school, wasn't great at academics and struggled to keep up with her siblings achievements, and was overall going through a lot of the turmoil thats unfortunately common for teenagers.

So she, like many people in the congregation, went to Mr Hemmick for guidance and ended up seeing a lot of him. She felt listened to and believed in with him. She felt like he treated her as more mature than the way her family treated her. She trusted him. He abused that.

If you asked her at the time, she would have said it was consensual between them. But she was 16. And when she became pregnant, he turned on her REAL fast lemme tell you. He made her promise not to tell anyone that he was the father, and he only told his wife. And of course, when he told his wife, he talked at length about how this 16 year old girl tempted him to sin; how he regretted it and only hoped she could learn to truly find God.

So he took the child in upon being born as a way to "attone" for what he'd done, but the whole community (not knowing he was the father) just saw it as an act of good will. And of course he'd tout off a lot in his sermons about how he'd be able to give the baby a much better, holier lifestyle than a teenager who turned her back on god by having sex.

So he and his wife end up raising Tilda from birth, but they make sure she knows from the beginning the circumstances of her birth. They drill it into her that her mother was a dirty sinner and that she herself is tainted as a result. She is raised always feeling like she needs to be twice as good to even be considered half as good as her brother in her parents eyes.

Naturally, she stops trying pretty early. In middle school, I imaging her being one of those bullies. The really nasty ones who get violent at their victims for even looking at them wrong. Idk about anyone else, but in my schools growing up the fights between the girls were always way bloodier than the ones between the guys. And I imagine those as the types of fights she got in- especially when one of her victims decides to stand up for themselves by throwing her own baggage back in her face.

By high school, she was thoroughly committed to the role of problem child. She would do everything she could to upset her family and get herself into shit. She'd do drugs, skip classes, show up to school drunk, stay out late, etc. In addition to all this, she would purposefully find whatever guy seemed like the most trouble and take him home. Whether this was the school drug dealer, a boy who got expelled for some rough shit, or college boys who caught her eye at parties.

So she's basically dug this hole for herself where she's committed to actually being the child of sin that her family has always seen her as anyway. The few people who tried to reach out to her wouldn't get far. She would push and push at them to see how far she could stretch their patience (to see how long it took them to give up on her like everyone else).

She even had one teacher who never did give up on her. But she outright told Tilda that she can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped. Those words would ring in Tildas ears for years to come, even if she never found it in herself to put the concept into action.

So eventually she'd graduate- just barely because she rarely put in effort in school- and she'd be left to suddenly have to find a place in the world when she previously never even thought she'd have a future. She started batting heads with her family even more (which no one thought was possible at that point) but it became less antagonistic on her end. She was still a shit stirrer, don't get me wrong. But she was getting tired. The fights were less about her being intentionally aggrevating and aggressive and more about her continuously being unable to live up to their expectations.

Luther already had a promising job as a cop at this point, meanwhile she was still living at home and bouncing between jobs that barely kept her afloat and boyfriends that barely made her feel worth something. She'd gotten into drugs in high school, and the habit only got worse now that she was out. It was the only thing that made her feel something other than misery or numbness. She could lose herself in the drugs and the boyfriends and the late nights out. She would come home to see her parents less and less and would speak to them only when absolutely necessary.

Eventually Mr. Hemmick died fairly young (heart attack or something equally as tragic. Whatever I dont care about him enough to pick the details) and his wife followed soon after by suicide. The house was left to Luther, who moved back in immediately and said there'd be changes in the household. He basically told Tilda to quit the drugs and go back to church if she wanted to stay in the house. He also had other rules like keeping a job, dumping her current boyfriend, giving her a curfew, etc.

So she left. She took her shitty beat up car an ex had fixed up for her and headed to California. A friend from high school lived out that way, so that's where she headed.

During this period in her life the drugs got a lot worse. This is also when she realized that she had become addicted. Mainly this is because, even after being away from her family and having freedom, she was still miserable. She didn't know how to get through a day sober. The constant variation between numbness and misery was too much to bare, but she wasn't ready to help herself. She wasn't ready to commit to her own healing and health.

She was in and out of therapy and rehab as quickly as she'd change jobs and partners. She wouldn't commit, and as soon as she had an out she'd take it. Had to miss an appointment for scheduling? Didn't make it back to the shelter in time to claim her bed for the night? Forgot to call back one of the few people who tried to reach out? No going back.

This is my main thing with Tilda. She was a shitty person who had a shitty life. But she never found the strength and commitment in herself to put in the work to be better. She instead let herself fall further and further down the hole because it was easier than pulling herself out. Because part of her still believed deep down that she had succeeded in living up to her birthright- that she wasn't deserving of ever healing or being better.

It was in one of these rehab facilities that she met the twins' father (and this part is absolutely inspired by Luke and Joey from the haunting of hill house). He was a guy with a similar past to hers- always sure he was meant to be bad so he committed to the role and never learned to commit to anything else. The difference between them, though, was that he was ready to get better.

They became fast friends and leaned on one another a bit while in rehab. She didn't see him as anything other than a friend, but he unfortunately became set on this idea that they would heal and move forward together. She knew he had feelings for her and enabled him (she didn't love him back but had never actually felt cared for like this before). He believed in her even when she didn't believe in herself, which was a lot. Unfortunately for him, he also ended up being more committed to her healing than she was. When she eventually started spiraling again, all other feelings for him were overshadowed by the part of her that just saw an opportunity.

She took advantage of him. She slept with him, took his money while he was sleeping, and bailed to get high and never see him again. Now I'm not gonna say she was just a devil who entered this poor man's life. He saw her more as a potential for an ideal life than a person. He was more in love with the dream he had of them getting better and starting a life together than he was actually in love with her and who she was as a person. Bad match all around.

So she never saw or heard from him again. When she found out she was pregnant, she went home to Luther and his wife and son. She didn't tell him right away that she was pregnant. Instead, she pretended she was just finally ready to commit to God and turn her life around. She played the part alright for a while, went to church with them and got sober and everything, but tried to leave and move into a women's shelter when she started showing. Luther found out and brought her home.

At first he was actually super supportive- mainly because he just genuinely thought she wanted to find God and stop "living in sin". But when she finally told him she didn't plan to keep the child, he turned on her.

We know the story from there. Personally I think the night that she stole the money and ran as her point of no return. Years down the line, when she knew she was being a terrible mother and person, she'd remember that night. And she'd think to herself how this is who she was always meant to be. How she doesnt deserve to be any better than how she is. And she'd dig the hole deeper.

-----

So yeah thats my take on Tilda Minyard. Sorry it was so long. I like the idea of giving depth and complexity to female characters- even the bad guys and the ones I don't like. I have a similar lengthy life concept for Mary Hatford as well, but it isn’t nearly as long. If anyone is curious lol

Thanks again for asking!

[whynoteswhispered]

Tales of a Loved Ninja (pt 1)

Idk; I’ve been in such a Jiraiya mood recently that this was bound to happen. 

(Very fluffy, uhhh idk)

word count: 4,930 (oops)

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The warm sun beamed on to your skin as you walked down the path to Icharuku. You couldn’t help but emptily smile at each person you came by; waving and speaking to most as they passed by.

Minato didn’t allow you much time for lunch, so grabbing ramen to go was the most reasonable way to go – plus you had a phone call to make before lunch was over.

“(y/n) Sensei.” You felt a hand tap the back of your shoulder. Swiftly turning around, you looked down to see Kakashi. Every time you saw him you couldn’t help but feel proud; you had watched him grow into an incredible shinobi – and though against your wishes, he made a great ANBU member as well.

“Hey, Kashi!” You patted the top of his head - watching the small amount of cheek above his mask turn red.

“Can I eat ramen with you today?” He reached up to the counter grabbing his to-go bowl of ramen, and then swiftly turned back to you.

You heard your name called as well so you quickly grabbed your container, looking over at the clock to see how much longer you had on lunch.

Fifteen minutes. It took at least five minutes to walk back to the academy which then only gave you ten minutes on the phone; if he answers.

“Sensei?” Kakashi was waving his hands in front of your face, you finally snapped back to reality and smiled at him, “So?” he questioned.

“You know I have to make a phone call; you can hang out in my classroom while I make that call if you would like.” You turned around and started the trek back to the academy, you could hear Kakashi’s feet trek quietly behind you.

“He isn’t worth your worry.” You kept your eyes forward – this wasn’t the first time he’s tried to start an argument over him.

“Kashi, don’t you think it’s wildly inappropriate for you to meddle into my personal life?” Sadly, you knew the answer to this – he cared about you as if the two of you were family.

“Don’t you think it’s wildly inappropriate to be throwing yourself at someone who is nearly double your age.” His voice was annoyed; making fun of you with each word that came out of his mouth.

Was it wildly inappropriate? You didn’t think so. Sure there was a large age difference, but meeting Jiraiya was one of the best things that had happened to you.

“How has ANBU been?” You switched the subject, knowing that there was no winning the conversation about Jiriaya “Are you still having nightmares?”

“Shh,” He hushed you; you could hear the embarrassment in his voice. “ANBU has been fine; yes, the nightmares still happen.” His voice was defeated. He sounded as though he was an old man who had lost everything, instead he was just fifteen and had lost everything.

“Kashi,” you turned around meeting his glance, you could tell he was uncomfortable. “I can talk to Minato about letting you out. You have to take care of yourself too.”

He shook his head, “I’m fine (y/n) Sensei.”

“You haven’t been acting fine.” You turned back towards the academy, “Guy came and spoke to me the other day – Kashi, he’s worried about you. He says you’re reading books about honorable death, that you won’t speak to any of them, and that you just aren’t acting like yourself.”

You had been worried about him for a few years now, but he never let you talk to him about his problems. He always acted like everything was fine; but you could see the subtle differences: the bags under his eyes, the way he would throw himself in front of danger regardless of circumstances, you’ve caught him crying to himself several times. He didn’t tell you about the nightmares until you went to check on him one day and walked in on him washing his hands and sobbing over the sink; saying Rin’s name repeatedly, staring at his hands as if he was witnessing that moment happening on repeat. After that, Kakashi opened up to you a bit – and you checked on him more often, buying him groceries and occasionally bringing him dinner to ensure he was eating.

When Minato told you he was going to suggest ANBU to Kakashi you begged Minato to listen to your concerns, but as his Sensei he thought what he was doing was the best way for Kakashi to deal with the death of his teammates. The following months after he joined you watched him break down further and further; he is a mere shell of the person he was just a few years prior.

“I could be doing better.” Kakashi’s words shocked you, but you kept your eyes forward knowing that looking back at him would likely embarrass him. “I just, I can’t shake it (y/n) Sensei. Every time I close my eyes I see Rin’s face looking back at me in shock? Anger? I could never understand the emotion she gave me and it haunts me in every passing moment. I deserve it though, I killed her. I couldn’t keep my promise to Obito – I couldn’t keep her safe.”

Everything in you wanted you to turn around and hug him; to hold him and tell him that everything was going to be okay. “Kashi, it wasn’t your fault. No one blames you for that incident. Not even Obito would see it as your fault.”

You could hear him start to sniffle, but you were certain he was holding back tears – regardless of how broken he was, he was still one of the strongest shinobi you had been around

“I, I know.” He stumbled over his words, letting out a large exhale once he finished speaking.

You opened the door into the academy, letting Kakashi walk in front of you.

As soon as he got in front of you, you placed your hand atop his head, rustling his hair.

“You can always talk to me; my door is always open – you know that.” You patted his head as the two of you began to ascend the stairs. “And if you don’t want to talk to that’s fine as well – but just know you aren’t alone, okay?”

Kakashi stopped outside of your door, turning around to meet your eyes; through his mask, you could see a small smile coming across his face. “Thank you (y/n) Sensei.”

“Mhm.” You nodded, unlocking the door so he could immediately run in to sit on the beanbag beside your desk.

Looking over at the clock you realized that you only had about five minutes left of lunch to call Jiriaya and eat. You couldn’t help but look over at Kakashi and wonder if he would be okay for those five minutes. Even though he gave you a hard time, you knew he enjoyed seeing you happy. He was like a younger brother to you, and he looked to you as an older sister.

“Do you mind?” You pointed towards your closet; which is where the phone was kept, “He hasn’t answered in the last few days – so I at least want to attempt to check on him.” You gave him a slight smile – waiting for him to inevitably roll his eyes at you.

“Go ahead.” And as you started walking towards the closet you watched him roll his eyes at you just slightly; you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

The closet was small but you had found comfort in its existence when you started to call Jiraiya during lunch. He would forever be considered a Legendary Sannin of the Leaf, but he was rarely ever in the village itself. Most people speculated what he was up to; but you knew the truth – that he was constantly watching and keeping track of Orichumaru’s movements and writing. He also tended to drink a bit too much when he was out, but you couldn’t blame him considering all he puts on himself.

You grabbed the phone and began dialing the only number you had memorized. Placing the phone up to your ear, you took a deep breath in – fully expecting him to not answer once again. And though you knew he was safe, it was hard not to worry about him when you never got to see him.

You listened to the phone ring. Once, twice, three times; you were almost certain that he was probably once again too busy to answer. Then you heard the click of the phone.

“Jiraiya?” You questioned.

“Hey (y/n).” You immediately felt a smile come across your face; you hadn’t heard his voice in several weeks – you only told Kakashi a few days so that he wouldn’t worry for you.

“Where are you? Are you okay??” You couldn’t help but immediately overload him with questions. The feeling of tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes made you immediately wipe them away, knowing if Kakashi heard you crying he would only think the worse.

“I’m fine, but hmmm where am I? That’s a good question, isn’t it? Want to take a guess?” His tone was playful; oh how you had missed his voice.

“Are you in the Sand village?” You knew you had no option but to play the game with him or he wouldn’t tell you.

“Think closer.” His voice was giddier this time.

Closer? “Are you in the Land of Fire?” You didn’t want to be hopeful, but you couldn’t help but hope that he would be swinging through for a visit.

“I’m in the office.”

“The office?” Your mind began to run at max speed. Did he mean the Hokage office?

“Mhm, the office.” You could hear him let out a light chuckle.

Without thinking you immediately hung up the phone, nearly dropping it from excitement. As you opened the door, Kakashi’s eyes immediately turned to you; curiosity filling his eyes.

“He’s back?” He questioned as you placed your ramen on the desk.

Turning to answer him, you couldn’t help but let a huge smile spread across your face. “Yes, he’s with Minato.”

“And you’re going? Isn’t lunch almost over?” he went back to eating his ramen; he knew your answer before he even asked it.

“I don’t have a class after lunch and I’ll be back before the next class; you can hang out in here if you want.” You started to turn towards the door but stopped yourself, “Will you be okay? I can stay if I need to?” You loved Jiraiya and had no idea how long he would be in the village, but Kakashi needed someone to be there for him and you couldn’t take that away from him.

You immediately felt your heart warm as you watched a smile spread across his face, his eyes never leaving his bowl of ramen. “I wouldn’t stop you from seeing him; even if I don’t like him. But if you aren’t back by the time your class gets here I’m going to make them go to the training grounds.”

“Okay Kashi, you can torture my students if I’m not back in time.” You let out a laugh as you started to make your way out the door. “You’re sure you’re okay?” you couldn’t help but question him again.

“You better get going before I change my mind.” He threw his hand in the air, gesturing for you to leave.

As soon as you stepped out of the classroom, your pace quickened tremendously. You couldn’t help but nearly run out of the academy.

It had been nearly a year since Jiraiya had been in the village; and you had only been talking to him for a few weeks at that point. You had met him at a bar after the Chunin exams; he hit on you instantly. But you weren’t interested – at least not interested in what he was interested in. Both of you drank quite a few drinks, and he attempted to invite you back to his place but you couldn’t help but laugh in his face. You’ll never forget his face when you did that; he looked shocked as if he had never been turned down in his life. Before leaving the bar you gave him your phone number and told him to call you the next morning if he was still interested. To your surprise, he called you shortly after you woke up the next morning. The most shocking part was that the phone call wasn’t awkward – it felt as though you were talking to a friend you had had your entire life. You both laughed and told jokes, he talked about Orichumaru and you talked about the death of your parents; it was like talking to someone who understood everything even if they hadn’t been through it. He listened when you talked, and you hadn’t had someone listen to you in what had felt like years. The two of you stayed talking on the phone for hours, it was dark outside before the two of you decided it was time to hang up but before that Jiraiya initiated setting up a date to Icharuku.

You couldn’t help but feel your smile growing bigger with each passing step towards the Hokage building.

You had never been to Icharuku before Jiraiya took you; ramen just wasn’t something you ever thought about when looking for restaurants to eat at – plus your parents weren’t the biggest ramen fans so it wasn’t something you were used to eating.

As soon as you got to Icharuku, Jiraiya was waiting outside the curtain for you. As soon as his eyes met yours, his face filled with a smile. The two of you went in and ordered ramen; you let him pick out what you were going to eat since you had no clue what to order – and it did not disappoint. The two of you drank and ate ramen as you talked just as you did the day prior on the phone; this time with more emotion. The booth filled with the noise of the two of you laughing for hours. He walked you home that night; he never tried to do anything funny – he stopped outside your apartment door and kissed the top of your head. As soon as you unlocked your door he began to descend back down the stairwell.

You opened the door and began to sprint up the stairs to get to the Hokage office. Several visitors gave you awkward glances as you passed by them with a huge smile spread across your face.

There were two ANBU members stationed outside of the office, but they didn’t even give you a second glance as you walked up to the door. Without much thought, you pushed the doors open without even knocking. As soon as the doors creaked open, your eyes met Jiraiya’s and you couldn’t help but move quickly. You could feel Minato watching you, but not an ounce of you cared. You opened your arms and threw yourself around him as soon as he got in touching distance.

In a blur, the two of you fell backward onto the ground – Jiraiya immediately holding you tightly to ensure you wouldn’t get hurt.

You both busted out laughing; you could even hear Minato let out a chuckle.

“I’m sorry.” You said softly as you pushed your head deep into his shoulders; his arms pulling you tightly against him.

“You know, Minato and I could’ve been talking about information that you didn’t need to hear.” You could hear the teasing tone in his voice.

You pushed yourself up so that you could look at him, his hand immediately moving up to your face to push the hair away from your eyes. “Oh shit, I’m sorry.” You hadn’t thought much when coming in, your only thought was seeing Jiraiya.

“You know you’re kind of cute when you miss me.” His arms wrapped around you again, pulling you tight against him once again.

Before he left, the two of you held each other for hours in bed; talking about how you were going to stay in contact, you listened to his worries for the missions he was out to complete, he listened to your worries about him going out on missions by himself. Though the two of you mostly just stayed silent – enjoying each other’s presence while you could. When you dozed off in his arms, you woke up to him having already left. A note rested upon the pillow where his head was laid up hours prior.

You could feel the tears well up against your eyes; you hadn’t realized how much you had needed this hug.

“Jiraiya.” Minato’s soft voice echoed through the room.

Jiraiya laughed as he picked you up off of him; placing you back on to the ground as he stood up to address Minato.

“Sorry Minato.” Jiraiya smiled at him. “Am I good to leave?”

You began to stand up and Minato laughed, “Get out of here you two; what has it been a little over a year?” you shook your head. “Go.” He gestured towards the door and Jiraiya immediately grabbed your hand in his, nearly tugging you behind him.

“You’re still coming over later though, right? I’ve already told Kushina the two of you would be there for dinner.” You looked back at Minato who was smiling ear-to-ear at the two of you.

“We will be there.” Jiraiya never turned around, instead he kept tugging you forward out the door; Minato waved at you as made your way through the door.

You managed to find your pace in his, and instead of being tugged behind him, you were happily walking in stride with him. His large hand completely wrapped around yours; his thumb rubbing small circles on the back of your hand as the two of you walked down the stairs.

“I missed hearing your voice.” As you made your way to the bottom of the stairs he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in towards him. The people around you watched the two of you; it wasn’t as if people didn’t know who Jiraiya was – he was a hero of the village, and people knew who you were because you were a teacher at the academy; most though weren’t aware of your relationship.

You could feel the judgment through most people’s eyes; it was to be expected. Jiraiya had himself sold around the village as a pervert and you were sure most people were likely imagining that you were just his next prey. But honestly, he had never made those types of advances towards you – you set up boundaries and he respected them. He would occasionally make a dirty joke, but it was nothing more than a way to make you laugh.

“You were the one who wasn’t answering the phone.” You gripped his hand tighter. Those few weeks without hearing from him were rough; you could only imagine the terrible things that could’ve possibly happened to him – but you kept your hopes up, thinking if something had happened to him that the village would eventually find out.

He pulled your hand into the air, spinning you in a circle and pulling you into a hug. “I’m sorry.” His hands moved from yours and he placed them gently against your face, pulling you towards him.

You could feel your heart rate accelerate as he guided your face to his; his lips opened slightly and you couldn’t help but smile as your lips crashed onto his.

Before he left you hadn’t even kissed him yet; your relationship wasn’t much of a physical one. He was used to one-night stands and he didn’t want your relationship to be the same as the others.

His cologne lingered on you; the smell of oak and musk; as he slowly released his hands from your face, letting his lips fall off of yours. As you met his eyes you could see a smile spread across his face.

“I’ve wanted to do that for quite some time now.” He pulled you back under his arm, your face turning red with embarrassment as you notice the several onlookers the two of you had.

“How long are you here for?” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him; the rush of euphoria that you experienced from your lips meeting his vanished and was replaced with panic – this could be his only day in the village.

“I’m back for a while.” He looks over at you, wiping the singular tear that you weren’t able to keep held in, “Minato needs me here for some things, so don’t worry about me leaving quite yet.”

The two of you continued walking hand-in-hand until you got to the riverfront. Jiraiya took his time stretching and then sat beside you on the grass; watching the currents in the water.

“I can’t stay out here for long, I have to get back to my class- “

He cut you off before you were even able to finish your thought, “Don’t worry about your class – Minato got it covered for you.” He laid back onto the grass, stretching his arms behind you and staring up at the clouds moving through the sky.

“Sorry again for interrupting in the office earlier; I just, I wasn’t thinking.” You shook your head in frustration at yourself when you heard Jiraiya chuckle behind you. His large hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you down to lie beside him.

“(y/n), Minato knew as soon as I answered your phone call that our conversation was over; really, he knew as soon as your lunch break started that our conversation was as good as over.” You couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“Wait,” it finally hit you that Minato knew of your relationship – “did you tell Minato?”

Jiraiya cocked his head slightly to look at you, his face calm. “Well, I knew you would be calling me; and considering I was there on official orders I felt it was best to let him know. I wouldn’t worry about him though, he’s just happy to see me happy.” His hand found yours, his fingers interlacing with yours. “Should it be a secret that we are together?” he seemed to be slightly upset at the idea of this.

“I, I just haven’t told anyone.” You pondered this thought for a moment, “Well, expect for Kakashi.”

“White Fang’s kid?” Jiraiya perched himself up a bit; curiosity was written across his face.

“Mhm,” You smiled as you let your gaze leave him and you returned to looking at the clouds. “I’ve watched over him since he died; he’s like a brother to me. He eats in my classroom nearly every day so he’s known since the beginning.” Laughing, you couldn’t help but continue, “He doesn’t like you much though, especially with your reputation.” Jiraiya knew you were only joking; though he did have quite a reputation in the village.

“Ahh, I see.” You could hear him lie back on the grass, “How is he after the incident with Rin?”

You were taken aback by this question. He was rarely in the village, and though that incident was quite horrific you didn’t imagine that he had heard about it. “He, uh –” You tried to think of a way to answer this question without completely disrespecting Kakashi, “He’s as good as you could be after losing one teammate and accidentally killing the other.”

“So, not too good?”

“No, not so great at all.” You pondered if you should drop the conversation, but you had at least one more thing you wanted to bring up, “Minato put him in ANBU after Rin.”

“Yeah, I recall him telling me about that.” You could tell by the tone of his voice that he must have also disagreed with that decision.

“It’s made him worse; they call him ‘Cold-Blooded Kakashi,’ he won’t talk to anyone, well except me – but I have to force it out of him most of the time. But, he won’t leave ANBU.” You could only hope that Kakashi was okay; you had left him in your classroom – but hopefully, he had left and gone on home. Maybe Kushina would have leftovers you could take him.

“I can’t do anything about what Minato does, even if I was his Sensei, he won’t listen to me – especially when it comes to his team. He’s gone through the same losses as Kakashi; he didn’t take any of those events easily. I’m sure he imagines himself in Kakashi’s position, and for him maybe ANBU sounded like the best healing mechanism.” He paused for a moment, “I’m sorry I can’t help him (y/n).”

You shook your head, “It’s fine; I didn’t expect you to able to, but I had to at least try.” His hand tightened around yours.

“I could talk to him though; I won’t tell him I know anything – “

You cut him off before he could even go any further with that thought, “No, you can’t do that. He would immediately know I told you something. He’s incredibly smart; I would go as far as to say that he’s the best shinobi the Leaf has ever had.”

That piqued his interest, he sat up beside you, watching your face. “The best shinobi of the Leaf, huh?”

“Maybe I’m biased, but I’m almost certain Minato would agree.”

Jiraiya laughed, shaking his head in agreement. “I would say I know for certain he agrees.”

The two of you stay by the riverfront for hours; talking about the past year as if you hadn’t talked on the phone for a good majority of it. He told you that he finished his book; Tales of a Gutsy Ninja. He didn’t have a copy on him, but he promised he would give one to you. You told him about your class this year. You had told him about Shisui Uchiha; the most promising student you had. He was years above his class; he would likely be allowed to graduate early if he kept at the pace he was going. You both couldn’t help but get lost in conversation with each other. He continued, telling you about what it was like training Minato, he brought up the three kids he taught from Amegakure; Konan, Nagato, and Yahiko. He talked about them frequently, even during your phone calls. He couldn’t help but wonder what they were doing and if they were still alive; surviving the war-stricken land. Jiraiya talked about them as if they were his children; it made you upset that he wouldn’t go visit them.

“When need to get going,” he stood up beside you, offering his hand to aid in helping you up. He lifted you from the ground with ease. “Kushina will get upset if we are late.” He patted down his legs to remove the dirt that was spread across them; you did the same to yourself.

“Are you sure it’s okay if I go?” you reached out for his hand; you didn’t want to be a burden on Minato and Kushina.

“Trust me (y/n), if you didn’t show up Kushina would not be pleasant to deal with – plus, she’s excited to have another woman to share the evening with since it’s normally just myself.” He grabbed onto your hand.

You shook your head, still nervous at the idea.

The two of you walked as the sky began to turn orange and the sun began to make its descent for the evening. The air was brisk, but Jiraiya kept his arm wrapped around your shoulders; laughing and making jokes through the entire walk.

As you arrived at the walk path to their door, you could feel your heart rate quicken; but as if he could tell, he wrapped his hand tightly around yours, squeezing it with comfort.

This was the first time the two of you were going out as a couple – at least a known couple; your first outing had to of course be at the Hokage’s residence.

“It’ll be fun.” Jiraiya pulled you along with him, stopping at the door, he turned to you and kissed the top of your head.  

His knuckles hit the door with several loud strikes and you could hear Kushina yell at Minato to go answer the door; within seconds you could hear the door being unlocked. Minato immediately glanced over at you, as if to ensure that you had indeed come with Jiraiya; a smile spread across his face.

“Hi!” he opened the door up for the door of you, “Come on in!” he exclaimed.

You took a deep breath; hand still wrapped tightly in Jiraiya’s. The two of you followed in-behind Minato, who seemed happier than normal – which was saying something considering how bubbly his personality was.

As soon as you made it into their living area, you could hear Kushina moving around in the kitchen.

“I’ll be there in a moment!” She exclaimed as you heard the sounds of dishes being tossed about.

Jiraiya had let go of your hand to walk over to Minato; the two of them deep in conversation. Both of them with smiles spread across their faces; Minato occasionally blushing. You could only begin to imagine the things that Jiraiya could be saying to him.

“Oh!” you looked up to see Jiraiya staring at the doorway; your eyes naturally following his.

“Oh!” You couldn’t help but let out a sound a surprise.

Kushina was standing in the doorway; her belly round with child and her face bright with joy.

[majorshiraharu]

Personal Ramble - Feel free to ignore

Honestly, didn’t have the best day, despite not getting out of bed till like 1pm I still had to join in on lunch. I also had to eat a type of German apple desert so my throat was swollen for over an hour and I’ve just felt sick the rest of the day. I’m allergic to most fruits, but my mom gets extremely angry if I don’t eat what she makes, so I just take allergy meds and gotta eat it anyway because I don’t want to be yelled at. 

And when we were supposed to say what we were thankful for, my mom said the years she had with me before I got ill, so yeah, it sucked. She couldn’t even go one day without putting me down, not even for a holiday.... ugh.

Anyway, on a happier note, I’m thankful for everyone here. When I joined tumblr a few months back, I never thought I’d find so many amazing, talented, supportive and loving people. The support on here is really special and I’m thankful to be just a small part of it. I wish I had more energy, so I could interact with everyone, because I love you all and I want you to know that. <(’.’<) 

I’m thankful for my dad and brother because without their support I wouldn’t have a place to live, medical care or anything. And I’m thankful for my best friend who has always been there for me, even if I didn’t talk much. She got diagnosed with cancer a year after I got ill and both of us were still young and going to college. Sharing those experiences around the same time and having it affect our lives so similarly was strange, but also comforting to know I wasn’t alone. 

Last but not least, I’m thankful for the people I’ve been able to help in any way, or bring joy to this year. It means a lot to know that there are people I’ve had a positive impact on, especially during 2020.

This is a little more personal and sad at times, so warning about sad stuff and me talking about shitty people in my life, but I wanted to share this. Also, it let me have a good cry about the things I keep trying to repress. I made sure to end it on a cheerful note though because tldr; this blog has made me genuinely happy and gave me a purpose, which is not something I have really ever had.  

All my life I’ve struggled with being able to accept any good things I did, I never felt like I was enough. I never enjoyed things because I always felt like I needed to do everything perfectly and if I didn’t, it was a personal failure, it really tore apart my mental health and how I viewed myself.

So I was really scared to share my writing or art, they’ve always been a passion, but between teachers and my mom I always felt like I wasn’t good enough. I couldn’t write an essay for college projects without crying because I misspelled words so often, I cried in classes when I couldn’t read the questions on a test or if I couldn’t understand them. Even though I got really good grades I didn’t think I was smart, I always thought I was dumb, I thought I didn’t deserve those grades, and I felt like a fraud. But the reason I had those grades was because I overworked myself to get them, I was a perfectionist; I put everything I had into getting a good grade. Even if I got 100% on a test, if the teacher marked somewhere that I could have written something better or that my answer wasn’t exactly what they wanted it broke me. 

I wish I could explain how much it means to have people say that they liked what I did and slowly I’ve accepted that even if my work isn’t perfect; it doesn’t need to be for it to make someone happy. That’s never something I thought would happen. Sometimes I still feel like I don’t deserve it or I get impostor syndrome,  but I’m working hard on improving myself, even if people can’t see it. I hate that it takes so long to work through all my baggage, and I question if it’s worth it because I still don’t see a value in myself. But I see a value in other people, so I work on improving myself for them, I want to be better for them. I know that’s not the best mindset and that we should do things for ourselves, but it’s the only thing I have right now. 

I’ve almost died four times due to complications from my crohn’s. One of those times I was actually revived, and I don’t know how to explain it, but I guess in some people it pushes them to do more with their life. But for me it felt like my life was gone, I felt empty. Everything I worked all my life for was over and just being 17 at the time I didn’t know how to move on after that. All my friends were still going on with their lives, they finished college, some got married, and even my best friend who has cancer was able to go back to college and now started her own business. People expected I would go back to college or get a job, and some said if I couldn’t work I should at least get married to “a nice guy” :/ Because I was struggling so much I ended up being left behind by a lot of people, which hurt me even more. I know I wasn’t the most pleasant to be around; I was really depressed and had no energy left to hide it, I often got angry or just cried over stupid things. I hated it when people told me what to eat or do for my health; I hated it when people touched me because it’s triggering, and when people did those things I’d either have a panic attack or I’d get angry at them. The adults that I’ve known all my life blamed me for not moving on. Family and family friends either said hurtful things or stopped talking to me because I never had anything good to talk about, and I was “miserable to be around”.

They thought I was a waste of their time; they blamed me for having crohn’s even though it’s not at all my fault; they blamed me for ruining my parent's marriage, costing them so much money, and even when my dad got cancer a lot of people blamed me. They said all the stress I caused made him get it. Even after all these years they still say all this shit. My mom reminds me every day that she blames me for everything and that my health problems ruined her life, (like how the hell do you think I feel ma) but then she also says my health problems aren’t real and I just need to imagine that I’m healthy again. She also insists that I need to fix the relationship I have with her, despite her being the one that ruined it when she told me after I got diagnosed that I wasn’t her daughter anymore. Also, somehow she’s mad at me for still holding a grudge against her for that, and also the other times she said something much worse to me, like she expects me to forgive her, and she’ll also tell me I have to forgive myself. I’m not the one who was a garbage person and idk you’d think that adults, let alone your own mother, would be better than this...

Sorry for this random dump of my emotions and life problems, it’s a bad habit. I’m not good at sharing this one on one with people because it makes me anxious. And I don’t share it with people I know in real life because most of them are family friends and don’t know how to keep personal stuff a secret.  I’m lucky enough to have access to getting mental health counseling, and that it has helped me some, it’s just a lot to go through. 

Thank you again for your support and treating me like an actual person that deserves to be happy. This blog makes me feel like I have a purpose again and that this time it’s something I can take my time on and have fun with. And I have a goal, something to look forward to. One day I’d like to write a book. I’d like to write a book that’s based on my life, idk like some silly teenage novel or something xD I went through so much, and I guess I want to find a good reason for all the bad, I want to turn the horrible stuff into something that’s not a negative. 

I love you all <3 I hope everyone is healthy and safe, if anyone ever needs someone to talk to my dm’s and asks are always open. I’m better at offering help than I am at accepting it xD also a habit I need to work on lol and if you read through all of this, idk why, but ty and sorry it was so long. 

[gimmeyoon]

Say My Name

     ↳ Pairing: Seokjin x Reader | Mentions of Hoseok x Reader

     ↳ Setting: Beetlejuice AU

     ↳ Word Count: 6.4k

     ↳ Warnings: death, dirty talk, degradation, exhibition kink, lingerie kink, oral (f & m), unprotected sex (but it’s ghost sex and ghost’s don’t have little ghost babies or stds, unlike you, you alive human. It’s a present, wrap it).

     ❝So, you died. You’ve come to terms with it; watching over your boyfriend as you’re stuck haunting the apartment you used to live in. But now, he’s bringing new girls around, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t scare them off and you can’t leave. Time to call the ghost with the most for a little bio-exorcism, baby.❞  

Alternatively: ❝ You, your “no respect for the dead” boyfriend, and the ghost with the most: a hauntingly good time.❞

     ↳ A/N:  This beautiful header would not be possible without the goddess @/kinktae. My version was so ugly, on god. (Also clearly I made it before I was gimmeyoon and Idk where the original is so I’ll just suffer)

     Also yes, this is a Halloween fic two days after Halloween let’s pretend this never happened and this was posted when it should have been uwu

     You're dead.

     It's not as strange or as extravagant as some people might think. It's mostly spending every second of your day in your apartment. An introvert's dream.

     You're pretty sure every college student has joked about being hit by a campus bus to either get out of your finals, have your tuition paid, or whatever other inconvenience one could imagine poor driving and forgetting to look both ways could help remedy.

     Except it didn't really fix anything, and you weren't asking for it. It just happened and you died.

     It wasn't worth it.

     But you’re dead now, and that’s just life, or you guess death.

     Pros of being dead: you know thanks to your haunting situation, that your boyfriend Hoseok got all ‘As’ for the first-time last semester.

     The haunting situation is something you hadn't expected. You're not sure you would call yourself a skeptic, but you certainly didn't imagine people were tied to their homes for decades with no where else to go. You suppose it's nice that you get to watch over Hoseok, but it's not like he'll be here forever.

     He was so sad at first, it broke your heart. But he’s healing, and every day you try to leave him little promises that you’re still there like spraying your perfume in your room so that he smells you when he wakes up in the morning or by helping him keep the place clean. He hasn’t noticed really any of it, which you think is strange, since he must realize he doesn’t clean enough for the place to look like this.

     That’s your life now, literally Hoseok’s maid. There’s nothing else you can do. You tried leaving the apartment once, and you were met with a creature you’ve never seen before and hope to never see again. It was otherworldly, that's all you can really say to describe it. You suppose you are too now.

     You’re not sure if you can die again, probably not, but if you could, that thing would be the cause.

     Hoseok turns off the light in the hallway as he walks back into your bedroom. He always looked so cute when he was sleepy; his hair ruffled and a small smile on his face. He crawls into his side of the bed, something that makes your heart fond. He still leaves space for you.

     You lay down beside him, as you do every night. You turn to look at him, and for a moment it seems like he’s looking back at you. But he’s not. He never is.

     And as he closes his eyes, you place a kiss to his forehead that has him swatting as if there is a bug when you pull away.

     “Good night, Hoseok,” you said. “I love you.”

     You remember what it was like when he used to say it back. It made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

      One single pound against the door to your apartment has you jumping out of your skin. You remind yourself that you're dead as you pick up the heaviest object closest to you. It doesn't make your heart beat any slower.

     You slowly make your way towards the door, as you hear it unlocking, and when it swings open, Hoseok appears oh.

     You sigh in relief as you set the book you had grabbed down; not so sure it would have protected you anyways. Also, not so sure you needed protecting. So far, all the secrets to being dead were in a very dense book that you kept hidden from Hoseok in a box of your things that he had put in the back of your closet.

     “Oh, Hoseok,” you said, a light laugh falling from your lips. “I was so worried.”

     And then you see her. And before you can truly process what is happening, the thud happens again as he pushes her against the closed-again door.

     “Oh my god,” you breathe as a hand comes up to cover your eyes. “This is not happening.”

     You repeat this as you walk away from the entrance of the apartment to the kitchen. You consider looking for a knife, figuring a floating weapon would probably send the message you were looking to communicate, but a pull in your heart told you otherwise.

     Hoseok deserved to be happy. He deserved to move on, even though you were pretty sure the mourning period for dead-too-soon girlfriend and supposed love of your life was not over yet. Regardless, Hoseok deserved to be happy.

     You almost convince yourself that.

     But god damn it, you deserve to be happy too.

     Whatever Hoseok is doing, has that girl moaning obnoxiously loud, and if you have to hear that all night, you’ll go back to that creature in that wasteland and perish. It would probably be less painful than this. There's no way it could be worse.

     You hear the bedroom door click shut, and your body relaxes a little. You didn’t realize how tense you were until now. You move out in the living room, laying your head on one decorative pillow and pressing another over your exposed ear. If you’re lucky, it’ll be over quickly, and you can pretend this never happened.

     The TV turns on in front of you and you curse assuming you’ve laid down on the remote, but then you see it on the table.

     You sit up quickly, your eyes glued to the advertisement before you.

     "Do you have a human infestation that's making the afterlife, hell?" A man asks. He's sitting at a desk like he's a lawyer in one of those personal injury commercials, except you've never seen a lawyer with green hair like him. Regardless, you suppose it makes sense considering your heart has been seriously injured tonight.

     "Do you just want to spend your after-days in peace just as you were promised on Earth, but the living keep getting in the way? If you answered yes to either of these questions, then I'm the man to call. The world's leading bio-exorcist, I'll make sure those that are ruining your retirement from life get what they deserve. Just say my name three time."

     "Bio-exorcist?" you repeated, the word even feeling fake in your mouth. There was no way that was real.

     "New family move into your home? Landlord trying to remodel? Boyfriend sleeping around?" He seemed to lean forward and meet your eyes as he said that, as if he not only knew that was your exact situation but could also see you.

     It's enough to have you grabbing the remote quickly and turning the TV off. You take a few moments to calm down before lying back on the couch and closing your eyes.

     Of all the weird things about being dead, that might just be the weirdest.

     She left early the next morning and instead of your usual kind ways of reminding Hoseok you were still around, you settled on minor inconveniences.

     When he was watching basketball later that day, you kept changing the channel. When he made Ramen for dinner, you made it cold before he could even take his first bite. When he went to bed that night, you kept dropping things, so that he got too nervous to sleep.

     It was the only way you were able to say, 'I'm here, motherfucker, cut it out.'

     You were lucky your boyfriend was a scaredy. It wasn’t difficult to scare him.

     But as before, he doesn't think too much of it. Hoseok was easy to scare but a skeptic apparently. You considered cutting his hair in his sleep, how else would he explain that, but as you brushed his light brown hair away from his forehead. You couldn't bring yourself to do it.

     He had grown it out a little since you'd died, and you liked how it looked. You had been worried it was because he was too sad to go to the barber. You weren't 100% sure that wasn't the case, but he took care of it, and it was the first time in a while he had styled his hair with his forehead showing.

     It was nice but you sometimes wished you could just tell him you liked it. If only he could know that you thought he looked good that way.

     He has another girl over the next weekend and you consider cutting his hair anyways.

     The worst part is you mumble a thank you when you realize she's quieter than the last girl. You hate yourself for even thinking that. You hate that there's a situation where you would.

     You’re in the living room again, reading your guide to being dead, when the newspaper falls from the table. You flinch at the movement, and for a moment wonder if there's a ghost in this apartment.

     The next moment you're laughing lightly because of course there is.

     You pick it up, still laughing to yourself, when something catches your eye. It's opened to an ad, and it's the same man from the TV ad a week ago. He's definitely the same man, green hair slicked back and strikingly handsome, but this time he wears a black and white striped suit. The ad reads the same as the commercial the other day, he's the world's best bio-exorcist and he can get rid of your human infestation. His name is written in big letters behind his smiling face, 'Beetlejuice.'

     You're a little offended that he would refer to Hoseok as an infestation.

     Another weekend later it's another girl. You're beginning to think it's all too much.

    According to the book you’re stuck here for the next 125 years, and you’re not really in the mood to listen to Hoseok fuck whoever he pleases for the rest of his lease. God forbid he re-up it and stays another year.

     If there is a god. You're not so sure even though you suppose you're the leading expert on this now. Is this Hell? It couldn't be heaven. There was never any briefing on the whole god thing when you died. Maybe it's in that god-forsaken book. God-forsaken, that's how you feel.

     You say it without thinking the first time, just considering your options. “Beetlejuice.”

     The second time you say it you get a little thrill at the thought of that girl running out of the apartment terrified. “Beetlejuice.”

     The third time you hesitate for a moment. Hoseok does deserve to be happy. But then he moans, and you think he should rot. “Beetlejuice!”

     He appears before you in a flash of light, that as you falling back in shock onto the couch. You're not sure what you thought incantation would do, He’s not what you expected, much more casual than his lawyer-like commercials, wearing an oversized hoodie, skinny jeans, and sneakers. He would fit in on your college campus well, especially with his green hair.

     “Beetlejuice?” you ask, gaping up at him.

     “You rang?” he smiled. “God, nothing gets me off quite like a beautiful woman who can’t stop saying my name. Feel free to call me Seokjin from now on. I’d say we’re friends at this point, I mean look at us, who would have thought?”

     You sit there in silence just staring at him and letting the situation sink in. He came out of no where and said that.

     “Oh good, I called a pervert into my apartment.”

     “I believe you called the world’s leading bio-exorcist," he said, rolling his eyes.

     “Why does it sound like you’re the world’s only bio-exorcist.”

     He laughed at this throwing an arm over your shoulder. "You know, I get that a lot?"

     "You certainly don’t look like the world’s leading anything."

     “What not dressed for the job?” he frowned as he shook his head. Suddenly he snapped his fingers and he was wearing the black and white striped suit from the print ad. “What about now?”

     “Great,” you deadpanned.

     "Now, what seems to be the matter at hand?"

     As if on cue, Hoseok moans from the bedroom.

     "Got some noisy house guests?" he asked, a smirk on his face.

     "My boyfriend has no respect for the dead," you replied, staring intensely at the bedroom door.

     "Oh, love," he said. "what's it good for besides heart break?"

     You didn't answer him, your attention captured by the activities in the other room. It almost physically hurt, as if the sound could slap you across the face.

     "Listen, kid," he said, snapping his fingers and bringing your attention back to him. "I can help you fix this problem, but I'm going to need something else in return."

     "What do you need?" you asked, a bit skeptically. His ads never said anything about that and you sort of doubted that it was going to be a fair price. Maybe it was the suit that made you suspicious, the green hair, or maybe it was his general aura. It was probably all three together.

     "I'm what some might call, on the run," he said. "I was cursed into this horrible, dead end job, seriously no areas for advancement, just serving the dead for the rest of my life, and I couldn't take it anymore. So I left, but that made me a wanted man. If you want me to scratch your back, even though it is a wonderful back," he said, his eyes drifting to your ass and staying there for longer than you would like, "then I'll need you to scratch mine."

     "Sounds horrifying," you said, glaring at him.

     "Don't knock it until you try it, kid."

     "What do you need from me," you said, curtly.

    "To break the curse, I need to marry a living person. We'll get your boy out of here, get someone new to move in, you be my wing woman and then bada bing bada boom we've got a broken curse and human infestation taken care of."

     "What person in their right mind would marry a ghost?"

     Seokjin winks at you. "The ghost with the most baby, any guy or gal would be so lucky."

     “What’s he afraid of?” Seokjin asks later as the two of you stand over Hoseok as he sleeps.

     “Everything,” you replied.

    “Everything? Then why do you need my help?”

     “He’s not paying attention to anything I do I guess.”

     “Common problem in relationships. The chick just talk talk talks and the guy never listens.”

     “You’re an ass, you know that?”

     “An ass with a great ass,” he responds, turning his butt towards you and pulling your hand towards him.

     “Rot,” you respond, as you tear your hand from him before it touches it.

     “Somewhere I am, or I guess I probably already have.”

     “Yeah? How long have you been dead?”

     “700 years?” he says, looking off into the distance.

     “Jesus,” you said, shaking your head, eyes wide at the thought.

     “No, Seokjin. Jesus died nearly 2,000 years ago.”

     “Thanks for the history lesson, Beetlejuice.”

     “Stop,” he warned, his face growing dark and serious. “Call me Beetlejuice again, and I’ll eat your boyfriend.”

     “Can you eat him?” you asked warily, moving in between Hoseok and Seokjin.

     “Sure,” he said with a shrug. “Who’s going stop me?”

     “The laws of physics.”

     “If you can touch him you can eat him,” Seokjin said, placing a hand on Hoseok’s face, causing the latter to stir in his sleep.

     “Put that on a t-shirt.”

     “Done,” Seokjin said, snapping his fingers.

     You looked down to find a black t-shirt now adorning your body with the aforementioned phrase across from it.

     “You’re right, you shouldn’t be a civil servant. You should be in the t-shirt game,” you said before turning to walk to the kitchen.

    "Bio-exorcist by day," he said, his hands accenting his words dramatically as he followed you, "t-shirt entrepreneur by night," he seemed to consider it for a moment. "I like the way you think, kid."

     Seokjin pauses for a moment, just looking back at you as if he is trying to get a better sense of you.

    "If he’s scared of everything," Seokjin said. "Then this should be easy, but personally I think we should have fun with it. I mean, if I’m not scaring I’m not caring, you know?”

     "I know you're the expert," you said, raising your eyebrows in scrutiny. "but I don’t want to scare him too much. I mean I love him."

     "Listen babe, this isn’t about love it’s about respect and he’s not giving you that, Aretha Franklin style."

     "Please don’t sing."

     Of course he does his rendition of the song, accompanied by some minor choreography that makes you wonder if he’s done this before. He's actually a good singer though his future as a choreographer isn't looking good. It’s a little too on-the-nose dance wise.

     "What is your plan?" you asked cutting him off in the second verse of the song.

     "Well the way I see it we have a few options. Personally this wouldn't be the first time I turn into a gigantic snake and I’m guessing he’s afraid of snakes."

     "You’re right about the snakes," you said hopping up to sit on the counter, "and that’s exactly why I can’t let you turn into a gigantic one."

     "What’s the fun in that?" he asked. "Do you want him to leave this apartment and stop fucking random women in front of you or did you just call me for a good time? Frankly it’s not a good time without my gigantic snake," he said winking at the end which caused you to roll your eyes and scoff.

     You stared back at him unamused. "Think of something less scary but still scary enough to have him move out."

     "Toots, you’re putting me in a difficult situation," he said leaning back against the counter. "Just leave it the expert."

     "If you’re an expert you should be able to come up with a different plan."

     He smiled at this, though his gaze looked angry. "You drive a hard bargain," he said, laughing with little humor. "How do you feel about light possession?"

     "I don’t even know what that means," you said, your eyes wide. "How can you lightly possess someone?"

     "When you’re as good as me, you can do just about anything."

     "Sounds fake," you said, hopping down from the counter and moving back into the living room. "lets rule out any type of possession."

     "You’re really grabbing me by the balls and not in the way I like," he said following you into the living room and flopping down on the couch.

    "Does it look like I care what you like?"

    "Hey you’re the one who called me?" he said, looking at you accusatorially.

     "No one ever said I always make good decisions," you said, looking for the newspaper that had his ad in it. "How can I send you back?"

     "Hey let’s not act rationally," he said jumping up from the couch and walking quickly to you.

     "Don’t you mean rashly?" you asked, looking up at him for only a moment before looking for the paper again.

     "I said what I said and I meant it."

    "Come up with a good plan now," you said, giving up on finding the paper. "Or I’ll figure out how to send you back."

     "Fine, you’re really pulling my arm but what about this? I’m thinking classic haunting," he said, setting the stage with his movements. "I’m talking blood dripping down the walls, things falling off shelves, 'redrum' written on the mirror and the works. He’ll be running quicker than you can say 'boo.'"

    "I like that plan because it seems to include no potential physical harm."

    "I thought you might," he smirked.

    "So when do we do it," you asked.

     "Once he’s alone with nothing to distract him or try and explain it away."

     That time comes the next afternoon as you and Seokjin stand behind Hoseok as he sat on the couch. You and Seokjin's arms brush against each other and you immediately push him away. Seokjin looks over at you with minor annoyance on his face.

     "This is pretty lame, so if anyone asks, I was not a part of this," he said.

     "Don’t worry," you said. "I don’t think all I ever see anyone as I'm dead now but even if I did, you don't have to worry. I wouldn’t want to be associated with you."

     "Promise?" he asked, batting his eyelashes as if you had just said the nicest thing.

     "Swear on my death."

     Seokjin nods his head, before turning to look down at Hoseok. "Now," he said, before disappearing before your very eyes. 

     It even sends a chill up your spine, so you almost feel bad for what all of this is going to do to Hoseok. You pull the lipstick out of your pocket. You had grabbed it earlier from the box of your things in the back of the closet. A small part of you wished he would recognize the color and realize you were here with him. A larger part of you knew that would never happen.

     You walk to the mirror at the entrance of the apartment and write 'redrum' in the scariest font you can manage with the lipstick.

     You feel something drip on you as your writing and look up to find Seokjin has already started the blood effect wherever he's gone off to.

     You make your way to the TV, rubbing the blood on your jeans as you move, and for a moment just stand in between Hoseok and the device. You think of the few times you've done it before, where Hoseok has whined and asked you to move out of the way so he could keep watching the game or whatever it was that was on.

     Now he looks right through you. He has no idea you're even there. It still stings as much as it first did. You turn away from him to write on the TV screen. You touch the lipstick to the screen just as Hoseok cures behind you.

     "What the fuck?" he said, standing up from the couch and moving to the entry way of the apartment.

     You almost feel giddy as he looks up at the blood staining the walls.

    "I can't fucking believe it," he said, shaking his head. "This fucking landlord."

     Hoseok ran his hands over his face in exasperation before pulling his phone out and taking some pictures of the blood, not even seeming to notice the writing on the mirror. Just then Seokjin pushed all of his textbooks off of the table, but Hoseok didn't even flinch.

     "Hey," Hoseok said his phone to his ear. "Yeah, the pipes burst again, and I really need you to fix it this time," he huffed at whatever was said on the other line. "No, I know you said you fixed, but I'm telling you there's shit coming down my walls again."

     "If that's what his shit looks like," Seokjin said as he reappeared beside you, causing you to gasp and flinch in shock, "then he seriously has a problem and needs to get it checked out."

     "I don't understand," you said, motioning to Hoseok grabbing his jacket and heading out of the apartment. "He didn't even see the word on the mirror. I mean this is the shit that has people running out of the building in terror in movies." "The living have no respect for the dead," Seokjin shrugged. "Not to mention your plan sucked."

     "This was your plan," you reminded him.

     "I told you it wasn’t enough."

     "You are the worst," you yelled as you made your way to the bedroom. "I swear to god, you have been nothing but a headache since you got here. You're not the world's leading bio-exorcist your the world's leading pain in the ass."

    "Oh I'd love to be a pain in you ass," he said following behind you. "Say the word, and I'll lube up."

     "If you weren't already dead I would murder you."

     "The feeling is mutual," he said, stepping closer to you. "Do you know what I think?"

     "I don't care whatever it is."

     "I think you don't actually want your boy to leave," he stepped closer again, causing you to step back. "I think you want him to finally notice you. You want him to realize you're here and stop fucking those other girls."

     "Wow, did you get a PhD in stating the obvious? Of course I want the man I love to realize I’m still here. I love him, you asshole."

     "Then why did you call a bio-exorcist?" he asked, backing you into the wall. "You're wasting my time."

     "Because nothing I do makes him notice me," you said, fighting the urge to spit in his face.

     "I don't think you're trying hard enough," he said, just as the door to the apartment opened again. "Why don't I help you?" he said, leaning in so that his face was mere centimeters from yours. "Have you tried some good old-fashioned ghost moaning?"

     Your breath catches in your throat as whatever insult you had prepared dies on your tongue. You loathe Seokjin, but the idea of getting back at Hoseok has you contemplating his suggestion.

     "Hm," Seokjin mused as you didn't respond. "Ghost got your tongue?"

    "Shut up, and put it to good use," you said, leaning in the rest of the way and pulling him into a hungry kiss.

    Seokjin kisses down the length of your body, working quickly on your pants as soon as he reaches the waist band. You step out of your pants and despite his previous pace, he stops to look at your underwear, a frown on his face. He looks up at you slowly.

    "I'm going to need to fix that," he said, before snapping his fingers.

    "If you gave me a dick, I'll actually feed you to the snake thing I ran into the other day," you said hurriedly as you looked down.

    Seokjin laughed loudly as he pulled on your arm to move you to the bed. He had replaced your underwear, switching out the cotton panties for a strappy red lace number, that you would never consider buying.

    "You like lingerie," you said under your breath, lying down and looking up at the ceiling as your racing heart calmed down.

    "Where'd you go?" he asked, crawling back on top of you.

    "I'm having ghost sex," you said, laughing a little bit at the end.

    "Great ghost sex," he winked, before helping you take your shirt off as well. He replaced your bra as well, the crimson matching set striking compared to what you normally wore.

    "Beautiful," he mumbled, kissing your breast over the bra, before looking at you with a devilish grin. "How long until Hoseok comes into the bedroom?"

    "We'll find out sooner or later," you mumbled as he kissed the band of your panties.

    "Do you think it'll be before the first time you cum?" he asked, kissing your clit through the panties. "Or do you think it'll be before the second time?"

    "Definitely before the third," you said, causing Seokjin to laugh.

    "Greedy slut," he said, before sucking at your clit, the barrier of the panties causing you to whine for more.

    "Pervert," you breathed as he gripped tightly to his hips. "You'd love to watch me get off three times."

    "You know," he said, his finger sliding under the band of you underwear. "You really annoy me."

    "The feeling is mutual," you said, lightly pushing his head back towards your core. "Scratch my back and I'll scratch your's."

    "You drive a hard bargain," he winked before pulling the lingerie off of your body. He sat it down beside you instead of throwing it on the ground and you considered teasing the delicate way he treated it, but just as you formulated your remark, he liked a strip up your cunt, having you sigh in satisfaction.

    You're not surprised that he teases you, giving your clit the attention it wants, only to take it away again, laughing lightly against you. He takes pleasure in your moans, his hands gripping more tightly at your hips every time you get lost in the pleasure. It seems to ground you in the moment.

    You're close to reaching your high when you hear the door open and look over to see Hoseok entering the room.

    Seokjin stops his movements and looks up, causing you to whine lightly.

    "Before the first time," he shrugged, before looking at you with a smirk. "Louder," he said before burying his head between your legs again.

    He harshly sucked your clit into his mouth, and you didn't hold back the moan that started in the pit of you chest. Hoseok is unaware of your presence, but your knowledge of his has each movement of Seokjin's tongue feeling better and better.

    You never knew you would like this, but as you think about every girl you heard in this room you feel desire grow in the pit of your stomach. Your reaching your peak quickly, your hands winding into Seokjin's hair as you cum hard on his tongue.

    You're panting when Seokjin comes back up a smirk on his face. "Scratch mine," he said, pulling his shirt over his head.

   You roll your eyes in response, but your hands come up to undo his belt. The two of you work to rid him of his jeans and you can only scoff in response when Seokjin props himself up against the headboard of the bed, his arms crossed behind his head.

   "Can you make him see us?" you whispered, a bit embarrassed by the question.

   Seokjin looked over at Hoseok and shrugged. "Maybe. If I turned into a cyclops he would probably notice us, but he could see us right now if he paid attention to the strange and unusual."

   "Yes, that's exactly how I'd describe fucking you."    "Less talk," he said, his eyes narrowing.

   "Mhm," you hummed as you ran your hands up his thighs. You kiss his cock lightly over his boxer briefs, before hooking your fingers into the band and pulling them down. You must gape slightly at the size of his dick, because Seokjin laughs lightly. When you look up at him he seems pretty proud of himself.

   "I said it was a gigantic snake."

   "Choke," you said, rolling your eyes.

   "Say please, and I will," he winked, looking down at your throat.

   You rolled your eyes, as you took his cock in your hand, to which Seokjin took a sharp breath.

   "Interesting," you said, looking up at him with a wink. "It looks like you're the one who should be saying please."    "Listen, babe, I'm not about begging."

   You chuckled lightly, before licking up the length of his cock. You took the tip into your mouth, sucking lightly, and then taking him in deeper.

   Seokjin moans loudly and you wonder partly if you're actually doing that good of a job or if he's trying to catch Hoseok's attention.You can't watch your boyfriend from this angle, so instead you imagine what he's doing. The thought that he could be standing shocked behind you, too caught off guard to do anything but watch has your pussy clenching around nothing and desire building in your core again.

    "Fuck," Seokjin said. "Swallow."

     And you do, swallowing around him before he comes and after, pulling your mouth off of him as he smiles with his eyes closed.

    "Watch this," he said, looking back at you and winking, before he snapped his fingers. He's hard again instantly, which is a little unsettling and the grimace on your face must communicate as such.

    "I never thought it was fair girls could just cum again if they wanted to."

    "Really?" you said, as he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him so you were straddling his lap. "I never thought it was fair guys came practically every time we had sex and I was lucky to come 1/4 of the time."

   "Very unfair," Seokjin said, nodding his head. "I've always recognized the power of the female orgasm."    "Why don't I believe you?"

   "Because you're horribly mean to me."

   "Poor baby," you said, lining yourself up above his cock. "The girl that just sucked your dick makes fun of you."

   "I liked it better when you had a dick in your mouth and couldn't talk."

   "I liked it better when you were too fucked out to say something gross."    "Then let's get to it," he said, his hands gripping at your ass as you sank down on him.

   The stretch has you moaning, and despite your abhorrence that he was right, Seokjin does have a big dick and the way it fills you is delicious. He gives you a moment to adjust before his hands are helping you ride him, his mouth moving to suck at your neck.

   When he pulls away he doesn't look at you, but behind you.

   "You want him to see? Be too loud for him to ignore," he said, looking back at you. "Show him how mad he made you. Show him what he's missing. Show him two people can play his game."

   You moan in response, turning your body to see Hoseok. He's sitting at his desk, likely doing school work, none the wiser that two dead people are fucking in his bed. He briefly turns towards the bed, his eyes seeming to fall on your body just as Seokjin moves again to suck at the other side of your neck.

  "Maybe if he sees us we can both fuck you," Seokjin said before biting at your ear. "Would you like that?"

   "Seokjin,” you moan.

   “You want to remind him how good you take dick.”

   “Seokjin,” you moan just as he thrusts deeper into you. “Seokjin.”

   "You act like a prude," Seokjin said, moaning as he thrusts up into you. "But you're really a slut aren't you? You'd do anything to get back at him."

   "Yes," you moaned, turning back to Seokjin. "Fuck me so good he can't ignore us," you said.

   "What do you think I've been trying to do," Seokjin grunted, thrusting up into you again.

    You're reaching your high a few thrusts later, moaning louder than you ever have as Seokjin cums inside of you at the same time.

   The two of you are panting, lying chest to chest on the bed as you ground yourself back in reality. When you roll off of him you look over to see Hoseok still studying.

   You feel better knowing you weren't powerless in this situation, that you too could move on, but something in you wishes he had opened his eyes and seen it. Some untapped kink you didn't even know existed until Seokjin came into your death.

     The new plan might involve some physical injury. You've made Seokjin promise that he wouldn't, but frankly everything about Seokjin materializing as the girl from The Grudge sounds like someone's getting hurt, and probably not Seokjin. Hoseok is dancing through the hallway to the kitchen when Seokjin appears at the end of it. Or rather, the little nightmare girl he's pretending to be.

    Hoseok doesn't notice at first, he's looking down at his feet as follows the melody of the song, but when he finally looks up, all of the color drains from his face and he stops in his tracks.

    He blinks his eyes rapidly, as if he has something in his eyes rather than the physical embodiment of evil being a few feet from him, but soon his body catches up with his mind and he's running from the house.

     He screams as he runs and you flinch when he almost trips over one of his shoes, that you have the sneaking suspicion Seokjin placed in his way.

     He doesn't come back, or at least not alone. Yoongi and Namjoon, his friends from school, come back with him to help him get his stuff and move out. A couple of times Yoongi teases Hoseok for being afraid of this place, because it's the least haunted apartment he's ever been in. Namjoon scolds him and points to the box in the back of the closet with your name on it.

    You've already gone through it and taken out anything you want to keep yourself. It was mostly just a few pictures of the two of you and your favorite lipstick that you never put back. You hid them in the couch cushions and hoped that they didn't check for lose change or anything.

     A few months pass and no one moves in. Seokjin thinks rumors probably spread after Hoseok ran from the place screaming so no one wants to move in.

     You figure he's right, because you certainly wouldn't want to.

     It's strange how the two of you start to move and live comfortably around each other, though it is unfair that Seokjin can leave. He usually spends all day with the living and comes back to tell you something interesting he learned.

     You feel even more like a housewife than you did with Hoseok. At least now you get to hear about your hard-working "husbands" day.

     It’s half a year later when someone finally comes to tour the apartment. You and Seokjin are making out on the bed when you hear the landlord enter and soon Seokjin is tearing his lips from your breast and looking in the direction of the entrance.

     "Finger's crossed they can see dead people," he said winking at you.

    "Apartment tour and a show," you laughed, pushing him off of you.

    The two of you make your way to the living room to see who would be so lucky to call Seokjin their future husband potentially. You almost fall on the floor with laughter as she comes into view.

    Standing in he living room with your ex-landlord is a woman who must be nearly 80 years old.

    “What?" Seokjin asks, over your laughter.

    “I don’t know how much longer your future bride will be living.

    “How horrible of you? Where are your manners? That is my wife!”

    "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you said, waving your hand at him. "I don't mean to be ageist, I just know your little pervert brain did not have this in mind."

     "Please don't call me a pervert in front of my wife," he said, pushing you to the side. "I think you're just jealous?"

     "Of who?" you asked, laughing harder. "You? Or the woman you're going to try and convince to marry a dead man?"

    "If you want to marry me, just say so," he smirked.

    "Not even if you were the last dead man in this apartment."

© gimmeyoon — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, or translation onto other sites even with proper credit given is not permitted.

[scintfms]

           hi  kids  !  wow  ,  we’re  already  at  opening  and  that’s  so  crazy  !  i’m  kofi  ,  your  co - admin  ,  and  i’m  so  excited  that  you  guys  are  here  !  i’m  23  ,  from  the  est  tz  ,  prefer  she / they  pronouns  and  i  graduate  from  college  in  a  little  more  than  seven  months  ...  yikes  .  that  being  said  ,  i’m  ready  to  introduce  you  guys  to  my  latest  muse  ,  who  may  have  huge  development  changes  as  we  go  on  because  of  him  being  brand  new  ,  mr  .  saint  moon  !  he’s  um  ...  something  of  a  mess  and  idk  if  i  love  or  hate  him  yet  ,  but  i’m  happy  to  plot  with  ya’ll  on  my  d.iscord  @  𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲.#4090  !

            (  lee  juyeon ,  22  ,  cis  male  ,  he / him  )  *  fun  fact  about  me  ?  okay  ,  let’s  see  .  .  .   an  injury  stopped  my  promising  olympic  career  .  crazy  ,  right  ?  i’m  saint  moon  ,  i  live  in  the  contemporary  new  build  with  a  three  thousand  square  foot  outdoor  patio  on  ocean  lane  in  key  biscayne  , &  not  to  brag  ,  but  my  family’s  worth  around  $740  million  .  pretty  decent  for  real  estate  and  construction  developers  ,  huh  ?  we’ve  been  around  for  some  time  ,  but  in  town  ,  everyone’s  always  associated  me  with  the  gatsbys  ;  but  it’s  not  like  that’s  my  whole  identity  ,  or  anything  .  while  filming  for  key  biscayne  ,  it  was  surprising  when  i’d  get  dragged  on  twitter  for  being  “  errant  ,  impetuous  ,  &  rancorous  ,   ”  but  the  cameras  don’t  see  everything  ,  &  my  real  fans  know  that  i’m  nothing  but  coolheaded  ,  venturesome  ,  &  enamoring  .  i’m  not  too  bothered  by  it  though  ,  because  since  the  series  ended  ,  i’ve  opened  a  highly  successful  café  in  south  korea  and  planning  to  expand  to  the  states  .  follow  me  on  instagram  @SNT.MN  to  keep  up  . 

name  :  saint  moon  .

nickname(s)  :  none  .

age  +  date  of  birth  :  22  +  july  19th  ,  1998  .

astrological  sign  :  cancer  .

myers - briggs  personality  type  :  infj  .

enneagram  type  :  the  individualist  .

moral  alignment  :  chaotic  neutral  .

gender  +  pronouns  :  cis  man  +  he / him / his  .

place  of  birth  :  gangnam  ,  south  korea  .

place  of  residence  :  key  biscayne  ,  florida  .

sexual  orientation  :  bisexual  .

romantic  orientation  :  biromantic  .

occupation  :  former  reality  star  /  instagram  influencer  /  café  owner  .

nationality  :  korean  .

ethnicity  :  korean  .

language(s)  spoken  :  korean  ,  english  ,  japanese  ,  and  learning  mandarin  .

social  media  handle  :  @SNT.MN

THE  BACKSTORY  .

            saint’s  story  starts  when  his  parents  ,  moon  ji - ho  and  park  soo - ah  went  on  their  first  date  .  in  truth  ,  it  had  been  a  rare  instance  of  love  at  first  sight  when  they  bumped  into  each  other  at  ji - ho’s  office  in  seoul  ,  and  the  date  was  only  used  to  solidify  their  feelings  .  you  see  ,  ji - ho  and  soo - ah  were  fairly  well  known  with  ji - ho  being  the  second  heir  to  moon  industries  alongside  his  sister  ,  moon  eun -  ha  .  moon  industries  was  founded  in  the  1940s  ,  and  is  known  primarily  for  their  real  estate  and  construction  business  .  the  company  was  founded  in  seoul  ,  and  originally  started  out  by  purchasing  and  renovating  beautiful  homes  and  condominiums  within  the  city  .  after  thirty  years  in  the  business  ,  ji - ho  and  eun - ha’s  father  was  one  of  the  first  in  south  korea  to  reach  the  status  of  billionaire  .

            ji - ho  and  soo -ah  were  looking  to  forge  their  own  path  ,  though  .  although  they  were  lucky  enough  to  have  wealthy  parents  ,  both  of  them  have  always  liked  the  idea  of  working  for  themselves  and  getting  their  hands  dirty  .  so  ,  they  refused  ji - ho’s  father’s  investment  and  decided  to  start  their  own  real  estate  firm  .  they  went  through  the  process  of  obtaining  their  real  estate  license  in  both  south  korea  and  the  united  states  ,  specifically in  florida  .  after  studying  hard  ,  they  were  able  to  open  moon  real  estate  ,  and  it  was  a  hassle  for  them  .  they  initially  ‘ struggled ’  seeing  as  though  they  were  their  only  employees  ,  and  soon  ,  soo - ah  discovered  that  she  was  pregnant  with  their  son  .

            for  four  years  ,  they  worked  hard  with  their  bumbling  baby  boy  ,  saint  ,  crawling  at  their  feet  and  curiously  looking  at  home  or  building  buyers  .  for  a  long  time  ,  they  considered  saint  to  be  their  closer  as  he  was  the  selling  point  and  allowed  people  to  hold  him  while  looking  at  the  home  .  usually  ,  soo - ah  would  use  saint  as  a  marketing  ploy  whenever  they  were  trying  to  sell  to  young  couples  ,  and  it  always  worked  .  the  moons  became  known  for  saint  syndrome  ,  where  those  same  young  couples  would  typically  call  to  say  that  they  were  expecting  within  a  year  of  buying  their  home  .  it  only  took  a  few  years  ,  but  the  moons  were  soon  raking  in  their  own  money  without  the  help  of  ji - ho’s  father  .  

            when  saint  was  six  ,  his  family  relocated  to  key  biscayne  ,  florida  .  life  was  easy  living  on  the  water  ,  and  his  parents  continued  to  sell  gorgeous  homes  both  in  seoul  and  in  the  wealthy  neighborhoods  of  florida  .  with  such  a  lifestyle  ,  it  wasn’t  unheard  of  for  saint  to  excel  at  his  private  school  ,  where  he  was  known  for  his  academic  prowess  as  well  as  his  ability  to  play  both  the  piano  and  the  cello  .  saint  was  a  fairly  popular  student  while  growing  up  ,  and  it  showed  when  the  moons  would  host  their  annual  christmas  party  .

            he  was  fourteen  when  he  finally  started  to  understand  the  rivalry  between  thoroughbreds  and  gatsbys  .  originally  ,  he  put  off  like  he  didn’t  care  ,  but  in  reality  he  was  trying  to  figure  it  out  .  the  moons  were  a  special  case  ,  considering  that  ji - ho  was  clearly  an  heir  to  a  billion  dollar  fortune  ,  but  also  had  become  wealthy  in  his  own  right  thanks  to  his  business  with  his  wife  .  saint  never  understood  that  jabs  and  jeers  that  he  would  receive  from  thoroughbreds  ,  because  to  him  ,  they  were  all  rich  so  what  the  hell  did  it  matter  ?  he  eventually  began  to  side  more  with  the  gatsbys  ,  never  understanding  why  the  thoroughbreds  felt  as  though  they  needed  to  stick  their  noses  up  in  the  air  at  them  .

            within  two  years  ,  though  ,  saint  seems  to  have  changed  for  the  worse  .  while  his  grades  may  be  good  ,  he  begins  to  spend  more  time  with  new  friends  in  miami  .  while  there  ,  he  surrounds  himself  with  fast  cars  and  short  nights  ,  but  he  thinks  it’s  his  parents’  fault  for  buying  him  a  488  spider  for  his  sixteenth  birthday  .  saint  began  to  get  into  trouble  ,  often  pulled  over  for  speeding  and  reckless  driving  to  impress  his  friends  .  like  always  ,  a  star  is  meant  to  fall  ,  and  it  all  came  crashing  down  for  saint  when  he  thought  that  drag  racing  on  u.s.  route  1  was  a  good  idea  .  he  assumed  that  he  could  lose  the  cops  ,  but  he  was  stupid  for  ever  thinking  so  --  he  totaled  the  $1.3m  dollar  car  ,  and  after  being  treated  for  minor  injuries  ,  he  was  booked  in  the  county  jail  .

            having  rich  parents  seems  to  be  all  fun  and  games  considering  they  were  barely  able  to  get  him  out  with  a  slap  on  the  wrist  ,  but  that  very  same  night  they  sent  him  away  on  a  business  plane  to  live  with  his  no - nonsense  grandparents  .  for  the  first  year  ,  saint  pouted  and  argued  ,  screamed  and  kicked  over  being�� trapped  in  seoul  .  he  tried  to  escape  the  fortress  of  a  house  in  pyeongchang  ,  attempted  to  ditch  his  security  guards  when  he  went  out  in  public  ,  but  he  eventually  realized  that  there  was  no  getting  out  of  this  .  so  ,  he  made  the  most  out  of  it  :  he  finished  school  ,  and  during  his  senior  year  with  the  help  of  his  grandparents  ,  saint  opened  goodnight  moon  ,  a  late  night  café  that  appealed  to  college  students  and  late  workers  in  need  of  a  coffee  and  pastry  pick  me  up  .  the  café  went  viral  ,  and  so  did  the  handsome  owner  .

            he  returned  home  when  he  was  twenty  ,  and  discovered  that  key  biscayne  was  filming  .  as  the  resident  who  suddenly  disappeared  ,  saint  was  sought  after  by  the  producers  and  was  introduced  mid - way  through  the  second  season  .  

THE  SHOW  .

saint  and  his  family  were  not  introduced  on  key  biscayne  until  midway  through  season  two  .  he  was  introduced  as  most  table  shakers  would  be  ,  with  a  flurry  of  local  headlines  ranging  from  KEY  BISCAYNE  TEEN  ARRESTED  FOR  DRAG  RACING  and  HOW  MONEY  GETS  YOU  OUT  OF  A  JAIL  SENTENCE  .  his  parents  didn’t  like  the  idea  of  being  on  a  reality  series  ,  so  they  weren’t  featured  although  there  were  a  few  scenes  with  them  .

he  was  the  reality  show  villain  and  you  can’t  tell  me  otherwise  !  showed  up  with  an  air  of  what  the  fUCk  ever  and  despite  the  air  around  him  since  he  was  arrested  and  shipped  back  to  south  korea  ,  he  never  let  that  stop  him  ?  like  ofc  he’s  a  rich  boy  who  got  away  with  something  bc  he’s  rich  ,  but  it’s  not  that  he  doesn’t  acknowledge  it  ,  he  just  chooses  not  to  talk  about  it  .

was  definitely  the  subject  of  show  cliffhangers  ,  probably  nearly  got  kicked  off  the  show  because  of  his  short  temperament  and  despite  all  that  would  still  be  invited  to  the  reunions  because  he  would  always  start  some  shit  .  he  was  very  vocal  about  who  he  didn’t  like  on  the  show  ,  and  probably  had  good  chemistry  with  a  cast  mate  and  fans  of  the  show  always  pushed  for  them  to  become  a  thing  (  a  wc  ...  mayhaps  👀 )  but  they  were  never  anything  more  than  friends  .

by  the  end  of  the  show  ,  saint  was  that  cast  member  that  fans  love  to  hate  .  he  was  employee  of  the  month  ,  and  that’s  on  period  !  gave  what  he  was  supposed  to  gave  and  was  highkey  problematic  (  not  in  a  bad  way  ,  but  in  a  way  where  he  was  always  the  one  in  the  middle  of  some  shit  )  and  when  people  would  question  him  about  it  ofc  he  didn’t  care  KFNDSJBFS  .

THE  PERSONALITY  .

a  little  shit  .  that’s  it  .  that’s  all  you  need  to  know  .  although  he’s  standoffish  ,  still  has  his  insecurities  because  he’s  not  the  ‘  perfect  ’  son  that  his  parents  pushed  for  him  to  be  .  very  much  so  the  black  sheep  of  the  family  ,  and  is  deemed  as  a  lost  cause  by  his  thespian  of  a  mother  ,  so  he  figures  that  he  might  as  well  live  up  to  that  name  .  comes  across  as  someone  who  genuinely  doesn’t  care  ,  and  he  doesn’t  KFDBJSFSD  .  sometimes  only  looks  out  for  himself  which  adds  more  sand  into  the  asshole  bin  ,  and  he  hates  being  asked  ‘  dumb  ’  questions  .  it’s  a  pet  peeve  that  his  mom  thinks  he  picked  up  from  his  father  .

THE  HEADCANONS  .

he  does  not  want  to  be  your  friend  KFNDSFUS  .  he  can  be  very  standoffish  just  to  get  that  point  across  ,  and  he  doesn’t  interact  with  people  outside  of  a  chosen  few  .  

can  be  wildly  off  putting  and  while  someone  else  may  be  afraid  of  confrontation  ,  he  isn’t  !  might  be  the  subject  of  bar  brawls  and  minor  scraps  because  he  genuinely  does  not  know  how  to  shut  the  hell  up  .

hates  walnuts  ;  idk  why  that’s  important  but  it  is  .  serve  him  something  with  walnuts  in  it  and  he’ll  never  talk  to  you  again  .

romantically  and  emotionally  stunted  ,  therefore  he  bides  his  time  with  casual  sex  and  noncommittal  acts  of  romance  .  can  be  found  slipping  out  of  beds  in  the  middle  of  the  night  ,  never  returns  texts  ,  and  at  times  will  pretend  that  he  doesn’t  know  who  the  other  person  is  (  ew  !  )  .

a  chaotic  boy  with  a  heart  of  gold  ,  he  just  doesn’t  show  it  and  has  mastered  the  art  of  being  fake  .  

despite  his  repulsion  of  romance  and  relationships  ,  he’ll  flirt  with  anyone  that  has  a  pair  of  legs  ,  and  he  quite  honestly  might  call  someone  daddy  just  for  the  hell  of  it  KNFDH  . 

probably  posts  those  outfit  thirst  traps  on  instagram  reels  or  tik  tok  bc  he’s  annoying  .

THE  CONNECTIONS  .

an  angsty  ex  boyf  👀 if  i  have  to  BEG  for  it  i  will  !  and  i  promise  to  make  you  cry  xD

a  best  friend  pls  !  someone  who  has  been  friends  with  him  since  before  he  was  shipped  back  to  korea  for  a  few  years  so  when  he  came  back  and  was  on  the  show  ,  they  were  THE  dynamic  duo  .

i’ve  been  really  into  his  plot  but  someone  he  works  out  with  ?  maybe  they  don’t  work  out  together  per  say  ,  but  they’re  somehow  always  at  the  community  gym  at  the  same  time  .

something  soft  ?  something  so  sweet  that  it  would  make  my  teeth  rot  ?  could  either  be  a  boyfriend  or  girlfriend  thing  or  tbh  i  don’t  know  but  i’m  literally  looking  for  something  that’s  all  fluff  and  all  marshmallows  and  if  i  don’t  get  it  then  i’ll  cry  .

a  plot  where  they  full  on  hate  each  other  .  none  of  that  cute  shit  KNFDNFHSD  .  no  lingering  feelings  ,  no  moments  of  hate lapse  --  they  hate  each  other  and  it’s  a  spicy  hate  ship  that  literally  gets  your  blood  pumping  .  

SKINNY  LOVE  ARE  YOU  THERE  ?

his  hoodrat  friends  NFDJNHFBD  i’m  kidding  but  i’m  thinking  like ...  a  billionaire  boys  club  type  of  thing  ?  perhaps  the  five  of  them  get  together  and  ppl  try  to  penetrate  the  group  or  they  have  these  instances   where  ppl  straight  up  hate  them  for  no  reason  ?  they  were  probably  the  TALK  of  the  show  bc  thought  they  were  assholes  KNFDJBFBD  idk  either  way  ,  my  hand  is  out  .  (  1  of  4  spots  filled  )

a  one  night  stand  with  some  substance  ?  like  yeah  ,  they  fuck  around  and  they  have  their  fun  together  but  they  don’t  pretend  to  not  know  each  other  in  public  (  unless  this  person  is  a  thoroughbred  and  i  oop  ,  chile  )  so  they  probs  tend  to  be  a  little  like  confidants  at  times  but  also  have  a  tendency  of  shutting  each  other  up  with  sex  .

[izzy-b-hands]

Too Much Blues

Gotta be honest, no idea what this is. I wanted to write, I put on some music and did some jumping around Spotify, and now here this is. I’ve been writing for like three hours and it somehow got dark around me, idk when that happened. 

Not sure if this really qualifies as angst? It isn’t happy, but it isn’t like overwhelmingly sad for Eugene or Snafu either. Y’all will have to let me know I guess. 

Title is from the song by James Booker which I have linked there on his name because I recently discovered him, and he is absolutely wonderful, and deserves more people listening to his music. After you read this, give him a listen. He’s Freddie levels of amazing piano playing, and sings so strongly it transports you. I can’t believe I didn’t know of him until now, and I wish I had sooner. 

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

The taste of blood on his tongue wasn’t unfamiliar, but it was unwelcome. 

The alley he was laying in wasn’t cold, thanks to the August heat, but it was wet. Rain poured, sluicing off of the rooftops as fast as it could fall from the clouds. 

He wouldn’t admit that this had been a bad idea though. Not yet. It would have to get a lot worse for that. 

Eugene had thought it was a bad idea from the start. 

“You can’t win the money we need by gambling. The math doesn’t pan out-” 

“I’m lucky,” Snafu had told him, accompanying it with a kiss. “I can win us a thousand dollars, easy. Give me the weekend in New Orleans, let me hit up the old haunts, and I’ll have it. I promise.” 

“At least let me go with you,” Eugene had begged as he had watched him pack. “For safety’s sake.” 

“I used to live there, Gene. The city isn’t any more unsafe than anywhere else anyway. Besides what else are we gonna do?” 

Eugene hadn’t had an answer for that, and neither did Snafu for that matter. It was purely bad luck and bad timing, that two of the cats had needed the vet, that Eugene had busted his arm trying to help repair part of the roof after a particularly bad hailstorm fucked it all the way up, that another storm had hit after that and done such damage that they had to hire someone to come fix it up instead of trying to do it themselves, that the break in Eugene’s arm wasn’t healing well and required more visits to the doctor than previously expected. 

The first thousand they’d raised by selling off things from the house, one by one, first to the pawn shop in town, then by driving out of town to the pawn shops of neighboring towns until they had enough. Their house was slightly more bare (and missing some furniture) but it was worth it. Neither of them wanted to beg help from Eugene’s parents, or Sid and Mary. Not their debts, not their problem, was the agreed upon mantra. 

But the pawn shops didn’t want any more of their things, and to pay off the thousand now would drain their accounts. 

And Snafu had always enjoyed gambling. 

It wasn’t that he hadn’t anticipated this. You could get jumped in any city in the country, for any reason, he figured. 

This time, however, he wasn’t sure what the reason was. He’d lost more than he’d won, and the few hundred he had on him was still all present and accounted for. They’d beaten him to a pulp, and run, and that was that.

“Just bad luck,” he mumbled as he stood and staggered out of the alley. 

People traipsed past him without a care, some drunk, others just deep in conversation with those they walked beside, or taking in the scenery. The city had never chewed them up and spat them back out like it had him. Maybe other cities had, and this was their safe place. 

It had been his, once. And he wanted to believe it still was. 

But it was difficult, bloody and bruised, the rain seemingly never-ending as he finally dropped to the curb and sat. And he was tired. It had been hours finding any game he could, in any place he could, trying to win as much as possible. No booze like he might have had normally, this was too important not to stay sharp. 

But even that hadn’t done it. It was nearly Sunday morning, and Eugene would be expecting him back by Sunday night. It didn’t seem enough time, not nearly enough time. 

“You need a rest,” the man who had stopped in front of him said it not as a question, but as a fact. He wore a sharp suit, and looked just as tired as Snafu. 

“Don’t we all?” 

The man nodded. “I know a restful place.” 

He let the man help him up, and tried not to slow him as they made their way down the road to the nearest bar. 

“Needs some cleaning up,” the man said to the bartender, who nodded and came out from behind the bar with a rag and a small first aid kit. 

“I can pay you,” Snafu said, even though it hurt to say. Any money gone was less to bring home to Eugene, and he already could barely bear how little he would be bringing. 

“Nah,” the man replied. “How about a story instead?” 

“What about?” 

“Anything,” the man replied, watching as the bartender cleaned the cuts on Snafu’s face. “Lotta rings on them, hm?” 

Snafu winced at the antiseptic, and nodded. “What little I got to see of them before...well.” 

“Got everything you had before they took you down?” 

“Yeah,” Snafu replied. “Thankfully.” 

“How long you been away?” 

Snafu sighed. “Too long, maybe. I live in Alabama now, with my hu-” 

It came so naturally to say back at home, where he knew he was mostly safe, but he bit his tongue now, and held his breath as he watched the man’s reaction. 

“Your husband,” the man finished. “Okay. And you came back to town because...” 

“We need money,” Snafu admitted. “I was gonna win it for us. Some cards, whatever else I could find, you know.” 

“Just see what’s going on for the night, what you start winning at,” the man agreed. “You win all you need?” 

Snafu scoffed, and nodded his thanks to the bartender as he finished up. “I wish. Six hundred and some I got, but I need a thousand. I’ve got the rest of tonight, and most of tomorrow to get the last four hundred.” 

“Son,” the man said. “It’s already four in the morning on Sunday. How much luck you think you’re gonna find before you have to head home?” 

“Not enough,” Snafu muttered. “I can’t go back to him with just this.” 

The man nodded. “How well can you play?” 

“Play what?”

“Piano. I can tell by your hands, those fingers.” 

Snafu shrugged. He had been given lessons as a child, but hadn’t made much effort to keep up with them the older he got. And war didn’t exactly lend itself well to piano practice, what with no drops of pianos on the islands in the Pacific. 

“I’ve got to run and play at church myself,” the man said. “But my grandmother is at home, too sick in bed to go. She wants nothing more than to hear some of the music I’d be playing. If you can do even a song or two, it would mean the world. And I’ll give you that last four hundred.” 

He smirked. “Four hundred dollars to play piano for someone I don’t know? Pull the other one.” 

“Not at all,” the man said. “I give you my word, and my name.” 

“Your name?” 

“Names are power,” the man replied. “Call me Jim. You?” 

“Snafu.” 

Jim grinned. “That ain’t your real name, but Jim ain’t my real name either, so fair enough. Come on then, and I’ll take you to her. Play for the next few hours, and the money is yours.” 

Jim led out of the bar with only a wave to the bartender, who seemed nonplussed by all of it, and called them a cab. It drove them from the Quarter to Metairie quickly, to a small white house with blue trim. 

Jim didn’t introduce him to the elderly woman who was tucked into the small twin bed in the living room, only said a few words to her, and gestured Snafu to the piano near it, then left. 

He settled onto the bench, and let his fingers rest uncertainly on the keys. 

“Can you play me something about losing?” the woman’s voice was soft, but scratched with the effort of being brought forth. 

“I know about losing,” Snafu murmured, and patted the wad of bills in his pocket before starting in on St. Jame’s Infirmary Blues. It was one of the few songs he could remember well, though it certainly didn’t fit the bill of a ‘church song.’ “Though you wanted something from your church though? That’s what Jim told me.” 

“Jim? Is that what he’s having you call him? Well, he is a sweetheart, but he doesn’t need to know what I have you play,” the woman replied. “I like this one.” 

It wasn’t a particularly long song, but he let his fingers play on the keys, adding into it, until she hummed discontentedly. 

“What else do you know?” 

“More blues?” Snafu winced. “Mostly remember what folks around here play, what I heard before I left, what I heard now walkin’ the streets. Think I could replicate some of it-” 

“Don’t talk it over till it falls apart,” the woman interrupted gently. “Just play. I trust you.” 

He searched his mind for the chords, the melodies, letting them fall into place, then playing about with them. He didn’t worry about perfectly matching what he could recall in his head; she hummed happily each time he did his own variations. 

There was a clock on the wall, but he paid it no mind, until Jim came back inside. 

He motioned for Snafu to continue playing, then stepped up to the bed, kneeling down to the woman. 

“Thank you,” he said softly. “She’s smiling. How she always wanted to go.” 

Snafu stopped short, and nearly tripped running out from behind the piano. “Is she-” 

“She kept telling us it would be today, and she’s not often wrong about anything,” Jim chuckled. “Thank you for your kindness, and your help. If I couldn’t be here, I’m glad you could be.” 

“You don’t know me,” Snafu couldn’t help but murmur. 

“You’re a son of the city, and I bet you had a grandmother sweet as mine that you once played for.” 

“Something like that,” Snafu said, and pushed the memories back down. 

“That’s enough. Don’t need to know everything about someone to be kind to them, to do the most basic human act of creating something to make them happy, to ease them in a time of suffering. And I knew you could and would do that for her.” 

Jim handed him a bundle of bills. “Count it if you like; I don’t blame you if you do. But it’s all there. Four hundred, plus an extra hundred in case you run into trouble on the way home.” 

Snafu took the bundle with shaking hands. “Thank you. Is there...” 

“You’ve done everything we needed you to,” Jim interrupted, a soft and sad smile on his face. “You get home to your husband, and take care of your debts. Be well. Maybe we’ll find each other again, should you come back. Bring your husband this time, and we’ll all share a drink.” 

“You sound so certain that I’ll be back,” Snafu said. 

“Because you will be,” Jim said matter-of-factly. “A visit to one home, from another. Because the city is always home to you, even if you forget that once you go. But places never forget the children that grew up in their streets. Their pain and their happiness and their sadness. She’ll remember this particular sadness, and the pain you met here this time. And be ready to comfort you to make up for it, the next time you come home.” 

He left the house, and found a cab waiting for him outside. The ride to the train station was a bit longer than the ride to the house had been, and he considered using it to count the bills Jim had given him. 

But he didn’t. Somehow, in his gut, he knew there was no need. 

He didn’t on the train ride back either. Instead, he slept, the most he had slept since getting to New Orleans. 

At the station, he called Eugene. 

“I’ve got enough. More than enough.” 

He hung up before Eugene could ask any questions, and settled onto a bench outside the station to wait for him. 

The taste of blood on his tongue, as he chewed at his lower lip anxiously, was not unfamiliar, or unwelcome. 

The iron tasted like life, whatever remained of his, of Eugene’s. 

He wondered if there would be music at the end, for them. 

[id-never-letyoudown]

Part 3

@mystic-majestic @youcanteverknowenough @vanillamaa @randomwriter90 @freezing-blue @liawinchester67 @randomwriter90 @bevaause @occulta-lacrimarum13 @capsicle-the-fabulous @juhavs @idk-but-i-exist

They’d been traveling for days now, stopping each night to make camp. They would have been there by now, had Geralt not been such a damned worrywart. And frankly, it was driving Jaskier mad. He could appreciate being helped with a thing or two, but the hovering had to stop. “Geralt. I’m not made of glass.” He’d tell him, and he’d let up. Just a bit. For a little while. But the Witcher was always so cautious. Especially with someone who was just bound to get into trouble. At least they’d both be getting some rest tonight at this inn. Jaskier would love to be able to actually bathe for once. As much as he loved smelling like horse and Geralt…

Speaking of horses…. The first few days of riding Roach-because Geralt refused to let Jaskier walk-were hell for his nausea. Oh but it was all so worth having the Witcher’s strong arms wrapped around him. Now that they were off the road he began to miss them. Jaskier tossed off his boots, sinking down onto the bed with a heavy groan. The last few days had not been kind to him. His body ached. His feet were sore. His hunger raged. Ah yes. His appetite. Jaskier had been craving nothing but meat for the whole trip. Jerky could only satisfy him for so long. But good, fresh, blood still running warm meat-the fresher, the better. They, or rather Geralt, had found this out in a rather gruesome way. After just felling a deer he had instructed Jaskier to return to camp while he cleaned it up. His reasoning was so as not to upset his stomach. But the bard remained. And at first he thought it was solely out of pure stubbornness. Until he saw his face. His blown pupils. Eyes that were transfixed on the animal. On the meat he was carving. That could have been excused as hunger. Sure. But then came nightfall. Geralt was a light sleeper. Even the slightest shift could rouse him. So when Jaskier got up in the middle of the night it woke him. Though he remained silent, he listened for the bard’s return. It must have been a bathroom trip. Geralt had been forcing the bard to drink more water lately, so it wasn’t too worrying that Jaskier would get up in the middle of the night for that. What was worrying, however, was the crunching. Geralt found a half awake Jaskier just a few feet away from their tent. Crouching besides the smoldering remains of their campfire. He could excuse late night snacking. He needed the energy for the life growing inside him. It wasn’t until he saw just what he was snacking on that Geralt’s stomach actually turned. Now, he’s seen some Shit over the years. But a sleepwalking man making himself a gruesome snack? That was up there. He could only assume the fuzzy tail sticking out of Jaskier’s blood covered mouth belonged to a squirrel. Perhaps the same squirrel Jaskier had complained about earlier that day. Because it had been “a right pest” and kept chucking things at them. Geralt had to help soothe Jaskier once a particularly loud crunch woke him up from his hunger fueled trance fully. And he hurled the poor squirrel’s remains right back up. What worried Jaskier most was how… good it tasted. If he ignored the fur and the bones, that is. Both of which he spent hours trying to pick out of his teeth amidst his gross sobbing. Geralt took to making sure Jaskier didn’t go to bed hungry after that. Why Jaskier had such… bloody midnight cravings, Geralt didn’t know. He could only hazard a guess it was his doing. After all, Geralt wasn’t human. So naturally whatever Jaskier was carrying wouldn’t be either. “Oh no you don’t.” Jaskier pat the bed beside him, glaring at the bedroll Geralt was rolling out over the floor. “Get in this bed, Witcher.” “Don’t think there’s any room up there for me.” He chuckled. And that was true, the bed was quite small. It was the only one the inn had available. And Geralt was fine with Jaskier having it. “We’ll just have to squeeze together then. Come now, we’ve been closer.” He felt those yellow eyes move down to his stomach, before flicking back up to meet his blue. “Much closer.” It was quiet between them, he could tell Geralt was considering it. He just needed a nudge. “Well,” Jaskier rose up, loosening the buttons on his tunic. “Anyways, I believe our bath is ready.” “Our-” “Yes our, we both reek and you know it.” Jaskier could hardly wait to step into the bath. There was just one thing. He didn’t quite want Geralt to see him so… nude. Which he knew was ridiculous. Geralt literally knew him inside and out. He already had his doublet discarded, folded on the dresser. He hesitated with his trousers, which were beginning to grow a little tight on him. He’d have to let them out some other time, perhaps after the bath. Geralt, already in the bath, threw the bard a curious glance. “Taking your time?” he mused, noticing the look Jaskier was giving the mirror. He also noticed the two faint scars that crossed the bard’s back. Geralt had noticed them before, but he never brought them up. It wasn’t his place. And Jaskier hadn’t asked him about his own, so it was only fair. But he wasn’t a stranger to lashing. He’s witnessed his fair share of “punishments”, the idea that someone thought they could do the same to Jaskier made his blood boil. He watched Jaskier turn, pushing his pants down, but only to his hips. Just enough to expose his stomach. “Can you tell a difference?” he asked Geralt, “I know it’s early, but with the way I’ve been shoveling food in my mouth lately it’s a wonder I haven’t split the seams.” Geralt leans over the side of the tub, laying his eyes on Jaskier’s belly. Something swelled inside him. Something warm. “I’d give it another month.” his eyes lingered still. What was Geralt going to do? Leave Jaskier on his Nana’s farm? Keep visiting him? It wasn’t as though the bard could join him on any future jobs. Geralt wouldn’t let him. Absolutely not. That would be far too dangerous. Besides, the life of a Witcher was no life for a child. Jaskier flicked his wrist, “Turn around.” he ordered, cheeks flushing red. This made the witcher chuckle, and yet he obliged. He only took a glance over his shoulder once he felt the bard’s back against his own. “…. you know I’ve already seen-” “Be quiet.” The bed was indeed a snug fit for the two of them, but they made it work. Jaskier wouldn’t admit it, but he loved being able to rest his head on the Witcher’s chest. Listening to his heart beat. Put him right to sleep. And it gave Geralt the perfect opportunity to think about, well, everything practically. He’s had a lot on his mind lately, and rightfully so. He was going to be a father, and he didn’t know if he was quite ready for that. But he was not going to abandon this child, nor his friend. Not now, when he could smell the fear and worry on him. And if things went well, hopefully not ever. How hard could it be anyhow? He’s juggled worse. Jaskier’s arm draped across Geralt’s chest, the bard resting his cheek against him as he slept more soundly than he had in weeks. Maybe even months. Geralt found himself staring down at him. There it was again. That feeling in his chest. Warm and growing day by day. He hummed, brushing Jaskier’s hair out of his face. He didn’t know when he started to fall for the bard, but it was well before the dragon quest. That much he knew for sure. He just didn’t know if he should be falling for him in the first place. – Back on the road again. This time, on a job. See, while the duo had been staying the night at the inn, word got around that a witcher was in town. And with that came opportunity. And Jaskier being as stubborn as ever. “You’re not coming.” Geralt had told him, not once, not even three times. But six. And Jaskier had ignored him each time. “Oh come on, I have to get my adventures in now while I still can. Preferably before there are any diapers to be changed.” And suffice to say trying to lock Jaskier in the room didn’t work. That’s how Geralt discovered the bard knew how to pick locks. “You said so yourself, it’s probably nothing to worry about-” “I only said that to comfort the man. Don’t you know anything about griffins, Jaskier?” He scoffed, “I know they live in the mountains and there shouldn’t be any reason for one to be hanging around some abandoned fort.” “Jaskier.” “…. Fine, I’ll stay by Roach. Bloody horse is better company anyways.” Jaskier ended up not staying by the trusty steed, despite his words. He grew too curious for his own good. And, well, worried for his witcher. He told himself he’d only take a few peeks here and there, see if he could catch a glimpse of the creature before Geralt had to slay it. If there even was a creature. He knew the witcher was on the far side of the fort, faaaar from where he was snooping. No chance of him getting scolded. So far. And then he heard the oddest noise. He saw claw marks on the stone walls. Chipped stonework. Obviously something had tried to make its way inside the inner workings of the fort, but must have been far too large to do so. Jaskier saw feathers. Large ones. The sound he heard was faint, and reminded him of something vaguely familiar. And before he could stop himself he was following it. He followed it all the way to a row of cells. Barely able to see in the dim light. The cries, he soon realized, grew louder the closer he grew near. He didn’t know what to expect once he neared that cell, but it wasn’t this. The small creature, weak from hunger, was curled up under a cot when Jaskier found it. “Oh look at you…” his heart swelled. Must he have such a weakness for cute things? “Who locked you in here?” he tsked, fetching his tools from his pocket. He had that cell open in seconds. He wasn’t worried, poor thing was too weak to even stand. Must have been in there for days. Which went along with that man’s story. The sounds and sightings had only started up some days ago, if he recalled correctly. So the griffin did have a reason to be down here then. He removed his coat, frowning. Little thing didn’t even put up a fight when Jaskier wrapped it up so he could carry it. “I think someone’s looking for you-” A deafening roar shook the entire fort, making Jaskier’s blood run cold. “And I think they just found Geralt.” When Geralt saw Jaskier tumble out of the fort into the courtyard he wanted to shout. Wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. And he’d do that, later. When he wasn’t busy with the damn griffin. The griffin that, just moments ago, had been deadset on skewering Geralt on its talons, with the way it had him pinned. Had been. Now it seemed much more interested in the bard. Geralt’s sword was just out of his reach, god damn it. “Jaskier, get back in the damn fort.” He watched the griffin tense, and he did as well, once he heard a cry. Saw the bundle in Jaskier’s arms move. “Jaskier-” The griffin started towards him, and Jaskier let the coat fall. The beast rumbled, tail flicking. And the griffin cub rose its head up with a chirp, to which its mother responded in kind. Much different than the roar it had just let loose just moments ago. It wasn’t until Jaskier set the cub down and took a few-very large-steps back that it came near enough to check on it. Geralt had gone so pale during the exchange, now sitting up and staring in disbelief. It made sense now. When Geralt was searching the fort he kept coming across the remains of beasts. Big and small. Preserved, displayed. Like trophies. This old fort had been a base for poachers, they likely planned on killing the cub as well. But its mother tracked them down and ran them off. He still watched on with bated breath as the griffin groomed its cub as they were reunited. He was still wary, moving slow as he rose up. The griffin heard him, of course. He could tell by the way the fur on its back rose, and its ears swiveled back to listen to him. Jaskier watched in awe, a warm smile on his lips. Which soon fell when the griffin locked eyes on him. “Oh-” this beast was massive, magnificent. And it could tear through him if it wanted. But it didn’t. In fact, it did the opposite. It leaned its head towards him, giving the air about Jaskier a sniff. Then it took a look back towards Geralt, who now had his sword. Which he immediately sheathed. It connected the two. The griffin looked back to Jaskier, then down. And Jaskier didn’t know what it was looking at until the creature moved forward and brushed its cheek against his stomach. Jaskier felt something. He didn’t know quite what. But he suddenly felt warm and light. And gratitude. He felt gratitude. And thankful. And these were not his feelings, he soon realized. Geralt didn’t apprach until the griffin had begun to walk off with its cub cradled in its maw. “What the fuck.” “Don’t look at me, I’m pretty sure I just hallucinated that.” Geralt didn’t even know if he should chew Jaskier out for not listening to him. All he knew was that he was relieved. And shocked. In complete awe. And wondering how Jaskier was still standing when his legs were shaking so horribly. “Geralt did you see the size of that thing-Geralt her talons were bigger than my forearm. Geralt-Geralt I think I need to lie down.” There he was. “I take it you’re all adventured out then?” Jaskier smacked his arm, “Oh fuck you.”

[thesummerstorms]

Rev Recaps Hard Contact (Chapter 20)

Final chapter at last!

CW: Violence & blood. Decapitation. 

TL;DR Recap: Darman and Etain make it back to the gunship with the injured Atin and Uthan in tow, but Etain refuses to let Zey leave without Omega. Niner lures Hokan into a trap and Hokan is decapitated. Zey offers Etain a choice, but 12 years later the framework still makes no sense.

Beginning Kal Count: 39 Ending Kal Count: 42

This post includes my favorite scene in the book, and has probably double the expected word count because of that. Long-Ass Post.

We open with a Kal Quote. I am ignoring Kal Quotes this far into the game because I am already very informed on Traviss’s opinions, but that does raise the Kal Count to 40 already.

Instead, we focus on Darman writing poetry to a gunship.

:’) Dar has similes and metaphors down at least. Some unnamed clone troopers (white-armored) and a medic come running out and dismiss Darman when he tries to tell them everything that happened to Atin because he’s already adequately marked Atin’s armor. They’ve also taken Uthan, so with, finally, nothing left for Darman to do, he turns around to watch Zey and Etain.

So Etain doesn’t ask who Zey is at all anywhere in this scene, which even with the Force telling her he’s a Jedi and logical clues telling her she’s outranked, you would think that she’d want his name. She also uses his name in her narration later without being told it on screen at any point. So that makes me think they’ve met before this, at least briefly. 

On the other hand their greeting is “formal”/ “etiquette” , not Etain being relieved that fucking finally, here is an adultier-adult whom she knows and trusts, so I don’t think they know one another well.

I’m sure the formal greeting vs “scene from a nightmare” thing is meant to be pointed, but whatever, we’re moving on. Well, except, I do have to point out:

The ARC, who I am calling Maze until I have evidence he’s not, takes off his helmet, doesn’t say shit to Darman, just stares at him. I don’t know why that makes me laugh.

Valaquil departs off the gunship, Darman praises Jinart, and Dar hopes the Republic will keep their word to the gurlanin because “they deserve it”, but we’ve long passed the point where I gave a shit about the gurlanin.

Zey’s priority --> mostly tactical, get this shit show of a mission over, but does try to reassure Etain

Etain --> where are my people???

I love how Dar expects Etain to “soften” because he knows that she longs to be confirmed as having worth and value, has learned this even after a very short mission, but Etain is also deeply loyal and her priorities have shifted.

Um, Maze, buddy? You want to chill?

OH OUCH MY HEART. 

We as readers know that their helmets were shut down by the EMP, but here’s Darman, assuming that he’s just lost another half a squad and that just like Geonosis, he’ll never know for certain what happened to them. The flashback is heartbreaking.

Etain’s ability to use Force-sense is so weirdly inconsistent and plot-selective in this book, but I love her already being able to tell from a distance that Omega squad is okay, even to tell where they are. This is the precursor to her being able to feel Darman “across star systems”, but on some level she’s formed some version of this bond with all of them.

And you know, no one in this book ever explains why the Republic wants Uthan so bad, but knowing from Order 66 that Palps wanted to use her for his personal goals always pisses me off.

Darman has become familiar enough with Etain and her expressions that this expression immediately sets off his “oh shit” radar, and it’s not even the first time. 

The one boot on the gunship and one on the soil is actually a nice tiny bit of symbolism- caught between what the Jedi expect of her and what she’s learned under fire from Omega- if you chose to interpret it that way. And I can actually sympathize with Zey’s annoyance here because Etain, tactically, is being pretty stupid here. If Uthan dies before they can get her proper care, if they can’t get off the planet, then it’s all for nothing. 

But. I wouldn’t want her to react any other way. This is exactly my favorite moment of hers. (Which is why I have the entire damn thing highlighted before anyone calls me out for that lmao.)

Listen, Zey, you know ilu, but bringing up her dead Master in a less than complimentary way was supposed to... do what exactly for your argument? He also completely ignores Darman’s attempt to keep the peace, but we just upped our Kal Count to 41 with the talk of Etain’s loyalty being a mirror.

Again, tactically pretty dumb I’m sure but oh holy hell do I love it. Especially that underlined bit in red. “Darman thought she had changed her mind, but that wasn’t Etain at all.”

Darman desperately not wanting Etain to be targeted by whatever Jedi mind powers he thinks Zey is about to use on her. Darman thinking about how Zey doesn’t know Etain at all, that Zey is taking 100% the wrong approach, but if Darman was just allowed to talk to her-

That bit in red? That and the response Zey’s about to give are two of my favorite lines in the entire book.

Zey gives in. Darman tries to get Etain to stay anyway, I think because he’s worried about the fallout of this moment landing on her, although it’s kind of too little too late for that. But Zey, as tactically expensive as this could be, as annoyed as he has been, is still proud of Etain.

It’s just one little tiny moment that says so much about Dar and about Etain and even about Zey. That little moment of pride lets me think they were better suited to Master and Padawan that maybe either of them recognized or would later accept.

Unfortunately, we now have to leave my favorite scene ever and return to Hokan’s POV. Hokan is injured and doesn’t know where Fi has gotten to, but as expected, Niner’s screaming has caught his attention.

Hokan has this weird double consciousness, this deeply rooted aversion to mercy or anything he sees as weakness or softness. It’s still a really... delicate little moment?

Listen, I know that Niner’s not wounded and this still is upsetting. 

Kal Count 42.

Hokan still is vacillating between thinking of Niner as an it more than a person, and “abomination” and thinking of him as a Mandalorian man who’s been unfairly used. Again, it’s this weird moment of double think, but it works in Niner’s favor, because nobody wants to know what would have happened if Hokan hadn’t taken the time to talk to him, or had decided to use the lightsaber.

The sheer irony of Hokan avoiding the lightsaber because it was too much like what happened to Jango on Geonosis... and then Etain decapitates him... with a lightsaber.

Niner says he doesn’t like to complain, but. Also, still very fair. And a much needed laugh after that last moment.

“Probably okay” Fi. 

Also This raises SO MANY questions because Mando armor is supposed to hold off Jedi if it’s beskar, but this isn’t, which means Fi spends the rest of the series hoarding and or wearing armor that isn’t beskar.

Etain is trembling, we’ll find out from her POV, because she’s still reacting to hearing Niner scream like that, and it rattles her deeply. Which again, I sympathize with, because it makes me upset.

But I mean, even if Traviss forgets it... there has to be a lot of emotion to being handed Kast Fulier’s lightsaber. He was the only one who was kind to her in the Order, at least from her point of view, she failed him, he was tortured to death with that lightsaber, and now it’s being returned to her. This is the closest she’ll ever get to closure, because as with Omega’s original brothers, there are no bodies left for burial. KT completely ignores the weight of that... but I think about it a lot.

Darman being gentle with her and praying that Fi doesn’t open his mouth makes me feel soft, though. And Niner gives her a tiny bit of the acknowledgement/respect she's wanted.

We go to her POV next:

Same, Etain. Same. Again, as she points out... Niner’s heard that before. And none of the rest of the squad who was there for it even really seems fazed?

She’s also guilty  about not being Jedi enough of course, but that’s nothing new at this point. And I’m sure Fi and Niner can appreciate her not-Jedi instincts. (Or does Zey’s tacit approval mean actually her stunt with the gunship is rooted in some Jedi ideals, even if it’s tactically stupid? idk.)

Maze & Zey take turns doing the pacing, confirmed. It’s just funny because earlier Zey was annoying the shit out of Niner by pacing and breaking up the holos at the briefing.

ZEY BACKSTORY! ZEY BACKSTORY! IDGAF ABOUT KAL; WHERE’S MY ZEY BACK STORY.

Ahem.

Anyway, the conversation turns to what actually happens to Etain now. She is, after all, an orphaned Padawan in the middle of war time.

“Etain could think of nothing worse than staying on Qiilura, with its terrible memories and uncertain future... She was alone again and scared.”

Okay, so we can debate what Etain’s duty is in this scenario. As Zey says, she knows better than anyone what Qiilura is like, and that’s info Zey can’t attempt to replicate, even if he reads Omega’s reports. It wouldn’t be the same as having Etain’s first hand experience.

But that... still leaves Etain “alone”, “scared”, stuck on a planet that is “full of terrible memories” and is associated deeply with at least three months of trauma. And she’s going to accept that, because she’s being guilted with the Jedi values of non-attachment and duty to the Republic. But I don’t know that this is the healthiest way for her to finish out her training. Like. Do the Jedi not have counselors or something, Zey?

It’s just... really sad to me.

a) Note to self about the body language here again. “dug her nails into her palms”, tried to compose herself.

b) oh shut up about what’s expected of soldiers; not everything has to be comparative 

c) I had a conversation with  samwichwilson about this scene that’s probably still in the tags somewhere.

But the framework of this choice makes absolutely ZERO sense to me.

Like, my kingdom for the AU where Etain chooses to go with Omega squad and spends the next nine months learning to blow shit up with them. I have no idea how that would work since she’s a Padawan and still technically needs a Master’s supervision, but I would enjoy it. She would definitely be happier than she’s gonna be on Qiilura.

But... while the narrative is presenting this as serious-ish options... like, there’s no way Zey would have actually go through with that last one, right? Point about working undercover aside, if he’s offering to let one clone stay, he might as well offer all 4, and he specifically narrows it down to one of the squad, not all of Omega.

So while Etain typically seems to believe an even lower opinion of her than KT actually writes (to match her low self-esteem) I have to assume that she’s right and she’s being tested here? But Zey, what the hell were you going to do if she said yes and asked to go with Omega? Much less if, when she accidentally caves here in a moment, Darman had said yes and agreed to stay with her.

She would have failed the test, and you can’t really let them start dating under your supervision... so what are you gonna do about that?

Anyway, it doesn’t matter. As unfair as it is, the choice is not really a choice, and Etain has been guilted into remaining in this place she hates. She’ll probably even end up working with Jinart again. Bleh.

Etain seems to be taking these options as if they’re really, truly serious here, but as a reader, it’s incredibly hard to see them that way. Because again. What’s Zey gonna do if she fails the attachment test.

(Unless you want to argue that the predilection with Jedi non-attachment and rules breaking is 100% in Etain’s head here and her guilt and mental conditioning just won’t let her see that Zey is 100% truthful and kindly letting Etain go off with these people she’s become so desperate to attach herself to. But that doesn’t fit like... any canon about the Jedi Order. Or ANY of Traviss’s writing tbh.)

I mean, at least Etain knows herself pretty well here. Her brain is going “abort abort, abort” but can’t actually stop her from doing the stupid thing.  She’s also trying to communicate to Dar that this isn’t her abandoning him, this is her still caring.

Listen, you can point out Dar’s lack of experience and still miss all the “child” bullshit. And honestly, his response to her saying that she’ll miss him comes off... almost a little cold. “You’ll miss me. I’m going to die in ten years, but don’t worry about me because I’m going the closest I have to home.” Maybe he’s trying to reassure her / also not to admit to someone who is now an Officer again that he’ll miss her too. It just sounds weird, even if we get the line that he was “considering it seriously.”

Or I guess what really annoys me is that in this moment that should be really personal and painful for these two characters, this just sounds... weirdly preachy?

Also...like... again Etain had to know that it wasn’t an actual option, even if the rest of the series will pretend that it was, including when she looks back at it in Triple Zero. But I’m choosing to read it more as a mark of her desperation- being so desperate and lonely, and, yes, a little trapped that her emotion overrides what she knows to be true.

💔💔💔

There’s some lines about how she’s a better Jedi Forever now because of “a soldier faith in her” but I have mixed feelings about those because they’re followed up with a bunch of bullshit about how she should learn from him because he had accepted his fate and had no self pity, and I don’t have time for ANY of that. You are allowed to feel bad when bad things happen to you, even if you are a woman or a Jedi.. Fuck off, Traviss.

Sweetheart.

Listen, you know and I know that she’ll see them again, she and Darman will fall in love, she isn’t trapped on Qiilura, a place of her nightmares, forever.

But it still feels like a real fucking downer of an ending.

Still, we have now officially made it to the end of Hard Contact. I haven’t decided if I’ll make posts for Triple Zero or if they’ll follow this format if they do. (Your thoughts/comments/feedback are welcome, as always.)

Final Kal Count was 42, which is actually impressive for a 20 chapter novel in which he DOES NOT APPEAR.