#some people fall in love and years later choosing to maintain that love becomes too hard

[thompsborn]

no because like i have a fic i started that’s a super in depth heart shattering fic exploring harley and peter breaking up and spending 12 years apart and then coming back together and how it would explore them as individuals and as partners and

and also i have this little fic idea where peter and harley break up but also they had this plant that they took care of together and a week after breaking up peter shows up at harley’s door like “if that plant dies i will actually strangle you with my bare hands” and they begrudgingly post break up bitterness have to be around each other a few times a week to share custody of this fucking plant and that somehow leads to them falling in love again

and i plan to write both it’s only just a matter of time and how long it takes me to write them

[starlightrows]

8 — The Healer

The Queen of Tatooine Masterlist

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Pairing: Boba Fett x reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: NSFW, Blood and injury, medical, unintentional self inflicted harm, mention of disordered eating (Not graphic, but warnings still apply), oral sex (f receiving)

Summary: You get the chance to start working on a long awaited project, and get in over your head.

A few days later your breakfast with Talece and Mira is interrupted by the head of one of the construction and renovation crews to let you know that the sunless garden space is complete.

You’re so excited you can hardly finish your meal. You find yourself wanting to sprint down the halls to see the room. It takes so much self restraint to compose yourself and walk beside the rather stoic and unbothered construction lead down to the room.

Before the renovation it must have been either a ballroom or a massive storage space. Either way it was not well maintained. It was full of piles and piles of junk that climbed all the way to the ceiling, the floors and the walls were damaged, and it was unusable.

It had been your idea to gut the room and turn it into something usable and unique. You loved having a garden on your homeworld, and since nothing grows on Tatooine due to the excessive heat from the suns and the lack of fertile soil, this seemed like the perfect use for the room.

Boba didn’t have much of an opinion on it either way when you initially pitched him the idea. In all honesty, he was just happy to see how happy it made you. He was quite impressed by your ingenuity creating this room. Artificial sun and moon lighting in real time with the seasons, water reclaimer and distributor so that whatever plant you choose can be watered without wasting it, and holo panels covering the walls to make the entire space look like an enclosed greenhouse.

And when you finally get to look at it, it’s perfect. Rows of raised garden beds, the lighting and holo panels look so real you’re almost sure they misunderstood your directions and just built out a patio instead.

“If there’s anything we missed or not up to your standard let us know, my lady” the foreman tells you

“No no, this is absolutely perfect” you can’t contain the smile on your face “Thank you! Thank you so much, it’s wonderful”

The foreman has to hold back a laugh, you’re practically vibrating, you're so elated. In all his years of doing large scale projects like this, he’s never had a client seem so appreciative.

“I’ll leave you to it my lady” The foreman politely exits the room, leaving you to wander around and admire their handiwork.

As you walk you begin taking notes on your data pad, for what plants and flowers you want to put in which planter boxes. It’ll be a tall order to get all the seeds and plant bulbs delivered here, but once they’re planted and growing, this will be a sight to behold!

You land up spending the entire day in the garden, labeling planter boxes with bits of flimsy tacked on the sides. Talece brought down a tray of food and insisted you eat something, but she also took the time to let you gush about the vegetables you planned to grow and how beautiful the room will be when things begin to bloom.

When you’re too exhausted to stand up straight any longer you make the long trek through the palace back to your room. Only to lay down on the bed with your data pad to begin placing the orders for soil, seeds, bulbs, labels, and plant pots. When you finally power off the data pad, you’re so happy. You can’t wait for Boba to be home so you can show him how amazing it all is.

You hear from Boba a couple days later, he is finally returning to Tatooine, and is “very excited” to see your new projects. He can’t help but smile picturing you squealing with delight as you show him all of your little plants and paintings.

On the same day, your soil and seeds finally arrive at the palace. You almost feel bad for having guards and some of the stronger looking servants help you drag bags of soil down to the garden. You feel less bad because you’ve got your sleeves rolled up to do the heavy lifting too.

Once everything is down there though, you release them to go back to their everyday duties. You get into a rhythm. Slice the seam off a soil bag. Dump into a planter box. Distribute evenly, and rake to till it. Move on to the next planter box.

Hours and hours and hours of this pass. You couldn’t be happier. It reminds you of summers back on your home planet, planting the seeds that would eventually become your fall crops. That would later become your fall meals. Soups and stews thickened with vegetables, roasted root and tubers to go with roasted meat, and gourds to be cooked down into mush to be put into pastries. It’s too hot to have such a need for hearty hot foods like that here on Tatooine. But you still crave them from time to time. It’s one of the only things you miss about your previous home.

As you’re slicing open a bag of soil, thinking about soup, you put in just a little too much force and swipe the blade farther than you expected. At first you don’t really feel it. But then you see the colorful bloom of fresh blood staining your sleeve. You’re stunned for a moment looking at it.

Your hands are covered with dirt. Mind over matter you resist the urge to clamp your dirty hand down over the bloody wound. Instead you calmly stand up and go back to your room. Staring straight ahead, not really able to look at it at the moment.

You get back to your room and know without looking that it is still bleeding but not that bad. I’ve had worse. I’ve had worse. I’ve had worse. You recite to yourself. You start the facet in the fresher and clean your hands, some of the blood has dribbled down your arm into your hand. You scrub it away quickly so you can peel off the shirt.

You take a deep breath and look in the mirror. It’s bloody. But not bad. You figure if you can clean it well and wrap it tightly it’ll be fine. You decide you’re done for today and it might be best if you just clean it in the shower. Perhaps not your best decision, but people make poor choices when they’re in shock.

Eventually you are clean, dry, dressed, and have the wound wrapped in a clean bandage. The shock has finally worn off, leaving you feeling exhausted and in quite a bit of pain. You know you’ve probably pushed yourself a bit too far today, and not just because you got hurt. You didn’t remember to take breaks, drink water, or eat meals at all today. A nasty habit you’re still trying to break.

Tomorrow will be better, you promise yourself. You do the responsible thing and lay down for the rest of the evening, falling asleep to an older episode of one of the shows Boba likes to watch.

In the morning, your whole body is sore and the wound hurts pretty badly. You risk taking a peek at it, the bandage is mostly soaked through but not enough to stain the bedding or your clothes… your clothes from yesterday.

You groan in frustration, blood stains are difficult to remove if you let them set. Sitting up you feel a little dizzy, chalk it up to lack of food and water plus everything that happened yesterday. Today is going to be better, you remind yourself. You start by getting out of bed and drinking a glass of water from the fresher. There you already feel a little better.

Next you search around for your dirty clothes from yesterday. Just as you thought, stained. You decide to run some water in the bathtub and let it soak with soap while you take care of the wound. It’s certainly not a pretty sight, but you muscle your way through it and get it clean once more and wrapped as best you can. It’s not perfect but it will have to do.

Just as you finish up you hear a knock at the bedroom door followed by the door opening on its own. You flinch at the sound. Usually if someone in the palace needs your help they will knock but wait for you to bid them entry or open the door yourself. This can only mean one thing.

“Cyare?” It’s Boba! You turn quickly and dash out of the fresher, leaving the medical supplies on the counter.

“Boba!” You exclaim running into his waiting arms. He snatches you up in a bracing hug and laughs at your enthusiasm.

“I tried to com you last night to tell you I would be home in the morning but you didn’t answer. I figured you were asleep” He explains releasing you from the hug and pressing a kiss to you cheek.

“Oh yeah, I was really tired yesterday. I fell asleep with the holo on” you tell him with a bit of an embarrassed heat creeping up into your cheeks.

“You needed rest, can’t be blamed for that my dear” he assures you, tilting your face up to him to give you a proper kiss on the lips. The kiss deepens, both of you finding that you can’t seem to pull away.

“Stars I missed you” you say quietly when you finally have to break for fresh air

“I missed you too cyare. Let me clean up a bit and we can have some breakfast together” he lets you go completely now. You smile and nod happily. He kisses you one more time, and moves past you to go into the fresher while you go find clothes to wear for the day.

Suddenly Boba is calling your name from the fresher. Your heart fills with dread at the thought of what he’s just seen in there.

“What the hell happened in here? Are you alright?” He begins scanning you up and down with his eyes, zeroing in on the bandage on your arm.

“It’s okay! I’m okay” you assure him, trying to push past and clear away the medical supplies from the counter

He places his hands on his shoulders and spins you around to face him, carefully saying your name again with a warning air about him. His hands stay on your shoulders and he looks you in the eye when he asks again. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing really, I cut myself opening a bag of soil yesterday” you explain

He sighs and shakes his head “And what did the healer say?”

“I… I didn’t see a healer” you admit sheepishly

“What? Why not?” He’s appalled and a little frustrated

“I didn’t think it was necessary, I’ve had worse before” you realize his shock and frustration is not unfounded, any rational person probably would have spoken to a healer about this.

“Had worse? And you handled it yourself? Cyare, that is a serious injury” He says, as if repeating it would get you to understand the severity of the situation.

“Boba… I wasn’t welcome to visit the healer on my homeworld. I’m sorry, I didn’t think to ask for help” Suddenly you feel guilty and a little defensive “I don’t… I don’t know how to do that when I’m in trouble. I didn’t even think about it”

Then he understands. Of course you wouldn’t think to ask for help when you hurt yourself. Because you’ve been conditioned to think you would not get it if you asked. He has to remind himself that he too used to struggle with asking for assistance, and it’s something that he needs to be understanding about in this relationship.

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry cyare, I didn’t mean to overwhelm you” he apologizes “I was just worried when I saw the bloody clothing and used medical supplies. I know you did your best with what you had at the moment. But now you’re not in danger, and we have the resources to have a healer that will actually help you. May I call someone to come look at it?”

You nod in acceptance and let him guide you back out into the main living space in your quarters. He sits you down in a chair, and asks that you just sit and relax for a couple minutes while he steps outside to give instructions to a guard or staff member.

He instructs a guard to go into Mos Eisley and bring back a healer, and a second guard to instruct the kitchen staff to bring a pitcher of hot water as well as breakfast. A few moments later there’s a gentle knock at the door. Boba calls for them to enter, and Mira comes forward bringing the pitcher of water and a tray laden with tea, toast, and eggs cooked the way you like them. She has a look of horror on her face as she sees Boba tending to your injured arm, and you cringe thinking back to your conversation with her the other day.

But Boba doesn’t seem to notice at all, “Thank you Mira, we might need more water if the healer asks for it later”

She gives a shaky curtsy and small voiced “Of course, my lord. My lady” before quickly leaving the room.

“So” Boba gives you a look “Cut yourself opening a bag of soil aye? Does that mean your fancy garden is finished?”

“Yes” you smile a little shyly, knowing that if he gets you talking about it you won’t shut up for the next half an hour at least

“Go on then, tell me everything” he encourages you, because more than anything, he missed hearing you gush about things you care about while he was traveling.

As you eat your breakfast you tell him about your new painting studio and the garden and all the plants you’ve ordered. Which things have arrived, which things you’re still waiting for. You tell him the truth about yesterday, that you had been at it for hours and your hand just slipped when you hurt yourself.

“Accidents happen cyare” he reminds you “I just want you to be more careful”

Just then there is another knock at the door, Boba calls for them to enter. The guard he sent into town has returned with the healer, and you’re surprised to see that you recognize him.

“It’s you, hello again” you greet him.

The man looks a little stunned. When you had asked him to make a remedy for chemical burn scars, you had said it was for your partner, not the kriffing king!

“Y-yes… nice to see you again… um… What seems to be the problem?” he asks, struggling to get his bearings.

Boba takes the liberty of explaining your injury to the healer, and invites him to come take his place so he can examine the wound and assess if it needs further treatment. While the healer works Boba excuses himself to remove his armor and get cleaned up in a different room of the palace. But he leaves two guards to watch over you. When Boba’s gone the healer looks up at you.

“You didn’t tell me your partner was the kriffing king” he hisses as he unwraps the bandage

“That was intentional” you explain “I can’t just go broadcasting to the entire city what my business is”

“Yeah but you might have mentioned it” he grumbles “would have charged you more”

He takes a look at your wound and takes on a look of concentration and disappointment

“What?” you ask with a touch of worry in your voice

“This needs stitches and bacta. You should have come to me or another healer immediately” he chastises you

“Hey, I did my best okay. And if you’re going to get mouthy can I at least know your name so I know who to curse in my mind when you stitch me up?” You bite back

“Darius” he replies “And you can curse me all you like, but you’ll thank me later when this heals without an ugly scar”

“Fine” you relent and let him get to work recleaning and stitching up the wound.

By the time Boba returns Darius has the wound rewrapped and is writing out instructions to keep it clean on a spare bit of flimsi. Darius gets markedly more tense when Boba is in the room, clearly he’s more intimidated by Boba than he is by you. He hands you the piece of flimsi and reminds you to be more careful next time before hastily departing the room with guards escorting him. Boba sends the breakfast tray out as well, finally giving you both some privacy.

“Now then, I believe I promised you a reward last we spoke” he leans forward to kiss the sensitive spot just behind your ear.

You hum in contentment as he continues kissing down your neck.

“Have you been a good girl while I’ve been gone?” he purrs

“Yes” you say with a little gasp and he sucks a particularly pleasant spot

“Go lay down for me” he pulls away from your neck and nods his head towards the bed. You get up quickly and toss the pillows up to the head of the bed and lay back.

He crawls up the bed slowly, pushing your legs apart at the knees dipping down to start a trail of kisses leading up and over your thigh. He breezes right past your needy pussy and instead continues kissing over your hips, and across to your tummy.

“You were so good for me on the com” he murmurs, dragging his nose across your skin, down from your belly button to top of your mound. He’s looking up at your pretty face, wanting to see every expression cross it.

Without blinking an eye, pushes his tongue between your lips and licks a broad stripe up, already tasting your arousal. He continues, slowly stroking you with his tongue up and down, up and down, up and down.

You can’t help it, you start squirming. It feels amazing, but his slow pace is driving you wild. Normally Boba might be a little mean and make you stay still, but it’s been too long and he’s loving watching you writhe in pleasure.

He maintains his long strokes but begins increasing his speed. Finally working an audible moan out of your chest. He switches tactic and pauses mid stroke, and begins fluttering his tongue just barely inside your dripping hole.

“Fuck!” You whimper trying to force yourself not to buck your hips into his mouth.

He knows you’re getting close and he knows just what to get you to the finish line, he makes one more broad stroke with his tongue and stops at the top of his path and latches onto your clit. Suckling and circling the swollen bud with his talented tongue.

Your whole body tensed with such force that you’re sure you might have pulled a muscle and moan in ecstasy as you cum on his face. Boba doesn’t stop, he continues to lap up your release all the way through your orgasm. When you’re finally laying back boneless with your eyes closed, breathing heavily he pulls away kissing back up your belly with feather light pressure until he’s hovering over you, kissing your neck and waiting for you to feel ready to open your eyes again.

Eventually you do open your eyes again, and place your hand on the back of his head to guide him away from your neck. He follows your direction and comes back down to kiss your lips.

“That was one hell of a reward” you say with a breathy laugh

“What can I say? I’m a man of my word” he shrugs laying down beside you

“You certainly are” you smile “I’m really glad you’re back”

“You really did miss me” he chuckles

“Of course I did! I love getting to talk to you about the garden and my painting and my projects. And I really missed getting to relax with you at night. And I love watching your weird holo dramas and hearing about your clients and having dinner with you. I just love… you” you find yourself admitting

He reached out, cradling your face in his hand, stroking your cheek with his thumb “I love you too cyare. I missed you dearly while I was gone. Thought about you every morning when I woke up and every night before I went to sleep”

Your heart soars hearing him say that. It’s easy to fall in love. Day in and day out, it just happens. It’s hard to admit you’re in love. You have to find the words to explain to someone why they are the most important person in your life and they give you unending joy even when you’re not right next to them. But with Boba it’s easy. It’s easy to be in love and it’s easy to say it.

“I love you”

Tag List: @cannedsoupsucks​ @otterly-fey​ @paige6768​  @littledragonlady​ @star-hoes​ @aeryntheofficial​ @xx-small-town-witch-xx​ @lokigirlszendaya​ @ladysongmaster​ @2clones-1kamino​ @cagrame​ @ashbyrhymer​ @adancedivasmom​ @4rosydreams​ @heybub​ @thefact0rygirl​ @elinedjarin

[theji]

Things Yizhan Made Me Do

It's BXG Day today! 🐢💛

To commemorate the occasion, I thought of making a list of 13 out-of-character things that I've done since falling into the fandom. (OK I'm a bit late I meant to do this sooner, the day is ending soon in a couple of hours).

1. Start a blog

And a public one, no less. I had a blog when I was in my teens but that was private, like a personal diary. My day job already involves writing so off-work I would usually like to indulge in mindless activities. Now, here I am, maintaining a Yizhan blog. I have not even used Tumblr prior to this but I'm enjoying it now, rambling about our fav boys. Writing is not a chore if it's about them.

2. Join a fandom

I joined a boy band fan club once upon a time, some 15 years ago, but I was never as invested in it as I am now with Yizhan. Back then it was just buying some merch, attending their concert/autograph sessions, listening to their songs. Apart from work, dog mum duties, personal relationships, other hobbies like kombucha brewing, most of my free time is now spent on the fandom. My Netflix account is crying. There is just so much to do and catch up on (I'm not complaining). I also enjoy interacting with and learning from other bloggers here. Antis are no fun and some industry news/developments/hate messages are upsetting but ultimately, you curate your own fandom experience. And I choose positivity and rationality.

3. Indulge in RPS

I don't ever 'ship'. What is 'ship'? 😆 I was always a dutiful audience, just enjoying whatever drama series and moving on after that. I started with CQL like most people and I didn't even notice/like GGDD until much later. Didn't even set out to 'ship' anyone but now I'm a self-professed turtle. SZD is SZD, and anyone can see something special between them if you keep an open mind. I wrote about my SZD reasons here previously. That said, GG & DD are individuals, each with their own successful careers. They come first, the ship comes second. That I'm very clear of.

4. Use Chinese apps

Gosh, my phone and tablet are now full of Chinese apps. I used to have only WeChat cos I needed it for work but now I have Weibo, Oasis, Douyin, WeTV, MangoTV, Youku, etc. Some of them are not even available in the app store so I had to find alternative sources to download them. haha..I even have paid membership for some of these apps. And now, browsing Weibo daily becomes a routine. If you wish, you can just get stuck browsing Weibo for a long long time. It's entertaining.

5. Read fan fic

I only started about 6 months ago but now I'm hooked and fics are largely the only thing I read these days, apart from news. But I only read Yizhan or WangXian fics (p.s. calling for fic recs of other pairings!) I know some might have different feelings about fan fics but to me, I really just see them as fiction, with characters (and sometimes traits) bearing similarities to GGDD. Similarly, I separate the platform from the incident so I have no problems going to A03 despite GG's incident. I just enjoy seeing the characters named XZ/WYB having happy endings in many different timelines and universes. While most of the fics I read are explicit (by design), I don't use them as tools to play out certain fantasies or to think of GGDD in a sexual manner. In fact, I really hate fics that have little substance and just go into the explicit parts without plot development. I like those with interesting premises too, like one I read recently where XZ is a serial killer and WYB is a police officer investigating the case but also in love with him. I do have plans to share my list of fav fan fics some time down the road so keep an eye out for it!

6. Willingly read Chinese

Yes, Chinese may be my mother tongue but I don't use it much in daily living unless I have to. I also find it tedious to read Chinese cos the characters are just so squashed together. If I have a choice, I will always pick English. But now, I read so much Chinese from my daily weibo browsing. I even read fan fics in Chinese! Who am I? On the plus side, I think my Chinese comprehension and translation skills improved. I also picked up some internet lingo used by Chinese netizens, which are pretty interesting like doi, 🐮🍺, 🖍. My all-time fav is yyds.

7. Act like a cougar

In real life, I have always maintained that younger men are childish. At least those I have encountered. But look at me now, fangirling over two younger men (I am closer in age to GG, but still..). I even jokingly call them my 'China Boyfriends'. I look at them very respectfully most of the time.

8. Buy merch

Seriously, once you start, you can't stop. At least that was what happened to me, although I'm still quite selective when it comes to supporting their endorsements. I usually go for consumables like food, cosmetics vs collectibles cos I'm more practical. Also, GG says to support their merch within reasonable means so that's what I'm doing. Just buying things that I'm interested to try and not because it has their faces or names slapped on it. In a way, this suits me cos I like trying new brands and stuff anyway.

9. Keeping a Yizhan archive

Photos, weblinks, videos, songs, fan fics list..my phone is full of these things now. I think my Yizhan photo gallery is only second to the folder with my dogs' pictures. But how can you resist when we are blessed with new pics of them almost every week?

10. Camp for livestreams

I'm lucky I live in the same time zone as the boys so I don't have to wake up in the wee hours of the morning just to watch something. But that's the thing, being in the same time zone sometimes make me feel like I HAVE to watch that thing live because, why not? Why wait? Not shy to admit that I once watched a live programme in the middle of work but I made sure I finished what needed to be done. I think so long as we don't let these livestream schedules run our lives, there's no harm in camping for them.

11. Watch c entertainment

I am one of those who used to pass over Chinese productions, simply because it's a Chinese production. Not in a scoffing manner but I'm just genuinely not interested in them nor the celebs. I was more of a US/UK production kind of person, occasionally Korean/Japanese. Now, I'm learning to enjoy them although I just watch those with GGDD in them. No energy to follow other Chinese celebs anyway. The other programme I'm contemplating watching even if it doesn't have them in it is Who's the Murderer (GG was only in one of the cases) cos I like the premise. On the flip side, now my sis and partner keep making fun of me cos to them, all I do now is "watch China shows". That is so not true. Or is it?

12. Write fan mail

I wrote a letter to GG once. A long-ass letter. I hope he read it. That's all I'm gonna say. 🙈 hahahahaha

13. Desire to visit China

China was never on my list of to-visit places. Just wasn't interested. I have been to Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou a few times in the past for work but even then, I never felt the urge to revisit for leisure. Now, I wanna visit GG and DD's home town, visit Chongqing to see the graffiti wall with Bobii Zanbii on it, eat mala hotpot and try out their sauce recipe, attend BXG events, dine at the CQL restaurant... Watching TTXS also made me realise that there are many beautiful places in China with natural landscapes and all that. I used to be clouded by my disdain for the regime and some behaviour of its citizens but now, I recognise that the country is separate from the regime or a smaller group of poorly behaved citizens. China is a beautiful country and I would love to visit some day. I will fly over immediately on my own if someone gives me tix to ADLAD!!

Well, I hope some of these things resonate with you. Feel free to share the OOC things that Yizhan made you do.

Once again, Happy BXG Day! 🐢💛🐆🐇🐷🌶🦁🍑🐶🍍🛹🎋

[thotinshield]

Danny’s Bagginshield Fic Recs (2021)

I haven’t done a fic rec in literal years, and I keep meaning to, but then I... don’t. This is a massive list - so I will put it under a read more to save your dashes.

Modern AUs

A Remover of Obstacles by MistakenMagic

"Dis often chided her older brother for being a misanthropist. She did it so often it had become a term of endearment. It was true that Thorin struggled with people; he struggled to form and maintain relationships. Dr. Grey had diagnosed him with this and Thorin hadn’t the heart to tell him this wasn’t a symptom of his PTSD, it was a symptom of his personality. He exercised a sense of apathy with almost everyone he met… But Bilbo was different. Thorin actually found himself wanting to know more about him."

(Note: This fic deals with a lot of mental health stuff, panic attacks, etc, so please please mind the tags.)

By Request by HildyJ

As a musician, Thorin's life can be summed up in tempos. For instance, the concerto he's perfoming on Friday is Allegro - quick and bright, followed by Andantino - slightly slow, and then back to Allegro again.

On the other hand, his relationship with his cute neighbour? Larghissimo - very, very slow.

Stepping Stones by misplacedkisses

It feels like it's fate Thorin's trying to resist, his destiny, his bloodline.

Fresh out of inpatient, Thorin's struck with the urge and maybe it's fate (or therapy) that has him stumbling into a late-night cafe instead. It may be the start of a new life.

Write Me Down Easy by lucyraebrown

Bilbo Baggins, a simple man with a wish for something more than his life teaching high school English, is obsessed with a famous author by the pen-name Oakenshield. Although he knows the future is dim for his chances of finding out about the man behind his favorite book, it's reassuring to know someone has the same thoughts about the world.

Fix-its 

I'll Die to Care for You by thehufflepuffhobbit

His gaze landed on Mahal's eyes once more. "You did your best, Thorin." It was tempting to look away; he wanted to deny that with everything he had. It certainly didn't feel as though falling into Gold Sickness and then dying was doing his best. Mahal smirked, as though he knew Thorin's desire to contradict him, and pinched his cheek before walking over to a table. "Aye, I didn't think you would believe me. I'm not lying, it certainly could have gone better. More according to my plan, but I know you really did try."

"Your plan?" He didn't know if he should ask, really. Knowing that his Maker had set a course for him, he didn't want to think about the ways he had done everything wrong. There were too many examples of mistakes in his long life, too many opportunities that he had missed that had probably been planned for him from the beginning.

Or:

Mahal feels like Thorin fucked up his legacy and gives him a do over.

Roses of Iron by Porphyrios

Two years after Bilbo returned from his adventures, he's made his peace with being back in the Shire. He still wonders what might have happened if things were different, but figures all that is behind him now. A mysterious visitor turns out to be someone he never thought he'd see again, and he's shocked by the news he hears.

Beside Myself by bliboboggins

"What are you doing? Just who do you think you are?" Startled, Bilbo turned around slowly. And there, in a familiar patchwork dressing gown, brandishing a fire poker wildly about, was... Bilbo.

i wouldn't have danced like that with any but you by Percyjacksonfan3

Thorin has survived the Battle of the Five Armies but his relationship with Bilbo is uncertain and precarious, especially in the newly reclaimed kingdom of Erebor. With Kíli set to marry Tauriel, and the Dwarves of Erebor still holding prejudice against outside races, Thorin must choose between his nephew's happiness or his own.

Though he believes sending Bilbo back to the Shire is for the good of everyone, he and the rest of Erebor are thrown into turmoil when 5 years later his nephews secretly plot to bring Bilbo back. Coming face-to-face with Bilbo again makes it impossible for Thorin to stay apart from him any longer- but is Bilbo still willing to be with Thorin once more after he broke both of their hearts?

A Matter of Payment by heartshapeddog

"And Thorin rose from the little table, keeping Bilbo’s fingers crushed gently in his own, and went down to his knee before him. Bilbo was struck with the likelihood that no creature greater than a farm-dog had lowered its head before a Hobbit since the birth of Eä until this very moment. He looked down, fascinated, at the crown of Thorin’s head, bare of royal circlet, and felt at once humbled and strong.

“I swear it,” Thorin said, and Bilbo thought of the vows from Elven history, of the type which followed the oathkeeper to the ends of Arda as a deep and binding magic. Then, he took Bilbo’s knuckles up to his lips. The rasp of his beard and his soft mouth were shocking in their immediacy and contrast. Bilbo could not help his racing heart."

Feet that Wander Have Gone by WednesdaysDaughter

“Run away with me.”

Bilbo turns to see who would say such a cowardly thing only to realize it was his own traitorous mouth which has run away with his heart: They’re already down the mountain and past Mirkwood by the time he realizes no one has objected.

“What a delightful solution my dear boy,” says Gandalf who looks to the east where the eagles are skimming the horizon.

Other AUs

between synapses and circuits by MistakenMagic

Different diagnostic results slowly trickled through and Thorin swiped them all to different corners of the screen depending on their relevance and evidence of abnormality. He paused when a particular chart appeared and smiled to himself.

“What?” Bilbo murmured, sounding genuinely worried.

“Your heterochromia,” Thorin explained, meeting Bilbo’s green and blue gaze. “The irregular algorithm that causes it has been running for almost half a century.”

“Most mechatronics offer to fix it for me,” Bilbo said, looking away, seeming suddenly self-conscious.

“Then they’re idiots.”

(Note: I just love MistakenMagic’s works. That’s all. This one is good and she writes angst so so well.)

past one hundred thousand miles (feeling very still) by childishinquiry

Commander Thorin Oakenshield is the leader of the first Mars mission, Project Golden Eagle, with twelve crewmen. Back on Earth, Specialist Bilbo Baggins is their communications specialist. Making history is easy; it's much harder to deal with falling in love with the person on the other end of the signal.

Hallowbit by batherik

As simple pawn shop owner in the human world, Bilbo isn’t all that thrilled to find himself lost in Thorin’s magical undead kingdom. Lured there by an old man dressed in grey, who turned out to be a wizard, Bilbo is charged with doing a job no one wants to do: fetch the King’s head from the corn maze. The King often loses his head when his temper boils over.

In the House of a Skinchanger by Bardic

Thorin and Company have finally reached a safe house after a few crazy weeks on the road. After three days of goblins, orcs, and a massive bear that's chased them into the home of one of Gandalf's acquaintances the Company is quite exhausted and quite tired of surprises. Unfortunately for them, or fortunately there is another staying there.

Master Baggins is not who the Company expected to find, especially when he claims to be one of the only outsiders Durin allowed a title and a rank to. Although that's the least surprising thing about him.

Thorin makes some discoveries and has some observations.

Basically an AU where Bilbo is a skinchanger and the Company meet him at Beorn's on accident.

It Runs In The Family by Imagined

At first, Bilbo is very glad to hear of the new alliance between Erebor and the Shire. He is even more excited when he learns that some of his family members are coming to the Lonely Mountain to discuss the details.

That is, until the dwarves (and Thorin, who is decidedly not and never shall be his) start getting along a little too well with one of his more adventurous cousins, and Bilbo starts doubting about his place.

[semper-legens]

123. The Dreamers, by Karen Thompson Walker

Owned?: No, library Page count: 299 My summary: In a small college town, students are starting to fall asleep, and not wake up. Soon the sleeping sickness has spread through town, and people are starting to realise something is wrong. From the two young children of a disaster prepper, to a young family with a small child, to the original girl’s roommate, to a professor whose husband is in a nursing home - everyone has their ways of coping with the mysterious illness, even as the doctors and psychologists cannot explain it. Then some of the sleepers start to wake... My rating: 4.5/5 My commentary:

This book is so interesting. I absolutely loved its lyrical, appropriately dreamlike prose, the strange and drifting approach it takes to its world and characters. While I don’t think everything in this book by necessity hits its mark, by God I appreciated the effort. The ensemble cast! The wide scope! The aura of unease and uncertainty that flows throughout every page! This is a haunting book, and I am really, really glad that I read it.

So this book was so obviously a response to the Covid-19 pandemic that it genuinely surprised me when I checked when it was published and found out it was in 2019. I can’t help but evaluate how this book presents the reaction both of the authorities and the public during a pandemic to, you know, our real experiences with living through that exact situation - but even knowing the author had no idea a massive pandemic would happen within a year of this book’s publication, it holds up pretty well under that lens. Even some of the specific details, like a nurse’s wedding becoming a superspreader event or people choosing between their own needs and keeping up quarantine procedures, doctors and nurses working around the clock with few resources while the authorities aren’t stepping in. It was both kind of eerie, and a very good reminder that the events of the pandemic were entirely predictable to anyone with an understanding of how these things spread.

What else can I talk about? I liked the ensemble cast, which flitted between a few key characters while also giving an overview of the whole town’s reaction to the sickness. It really gave a great sense of how everyone is acting within this situation while still maintaining the personal approach of having specific characters, which I really liked.

I’ve mentioned the lyrical prose above - the downside to it is that sometimes the barrier between reality and dream was blurred, which didn’t aid comprehension, though of course I appreciate that this was probably deliberate. The reference to not everything hitting its mark was this; later, it is established that those who slept experienced time in a strange way, having premonitions of what was to come as well as living for years inside their dreams, with the second victim of the sickness living an entire parallel life in her dreams in the space of a few weeks. This idea wasn’t really utilised to its best, it was introduced too late to really be fleshed out, but overall I think it worked. And certainly, it didn’t dampen my enjoyment of this lovely book.

Next up, back into Horrible Horrible Things, as a young woman escapes a cult.

[herglowinggirl]

Hello, familiar anon here, I didn't ask the question about an SOK ending where Yun lives and gains redemption. I also wouldn't mind having my own tag. I haven't found any other evidence of Yun shipping Kyoshi and Rangi outside of "The Boy From Makapu". How does Kyoshi view Yun later in her life( up to the first year after "The Meeting", creating Kyoshi Island nearly 25 years later, the last years of her life)? Would Kyoshi ever mention or talk about Yun after the events of The Shadow of Kyoshi?

hello! and yes I have some thoughts on this and how it would impact the advice Kyoshi gave to Roku and Aang. this got long but I’d love to break down parts of it to write fic, which I think I will do and perhaps post before Kyoshi Fortnight. But I digress, it’s long enough that I have decided to use subtitles. If anything skip to the end about the advice she gave Roku and Aang I think it’s most relevant to what I want to say and also my favorite part.

what I talk about under the cut: the ways I believe yun’s death would impact kyoshi’s actions after tsok and what the advice she gave aang and roku actually means (my thoughts on “only justice will bring peace” means)

would kyoshi talk about yun during her lifetime?

Yes. First off, it would be impossible to avoid him in the political landscape, because it is mentioned that he passed lots of judgements and signed treaties, ect. Although Kyoshi has grown in her leadership style and it’s turned a little (a lot) anti-establishment, she would still need to deal with the fallout of Yun not being the Avatar, because there would be a need to re-sign treaties and settle disputes with people seeking to take advantage of others now that the Avatar has “changed” would have to be dealt with and in tandem, Yun’s legacy.

But also, in a duology that features grief, I find it a natural continuation of the narrative that Yun would be mourned. You don’t stop knowing or loving someone after they pass, and I feel like mourning all of Yun—the boy he was, where he came from, his legacy, the decisions he made, the impact he had on the people around him, even how he hurt people—is only natural and is slightly unavoidable. I think Kyoshi mourns all of her deceased loved ones. 

Just, like the concept of this: she’s always hated pai sho but now when she faces a board in her gut and in her throat things feel wrong because it reminds her of what Yun had to do to survive. A breeze smells like the flour and air Kelsang sent into her face the moments before everything changed. She collects pebbles that Lek would’ve liked. Rangi brings her fire lilies for an anniversary and she starts crying. She sings songs with Wong that were her parent’s favorites that coincidentally, Kelsang knew too.

community in grief and kyoshi’s relationships

He was Rangi’s friend, too. Auntie Mui and Hei-Ran are sure to mourn him in their own ways. In tSoK Kyoshi calls her team Avatar a group of contradictions and misfits and in his way, Yun was too. The false Avatar. What a title! 

A continuation of the concept: Rangi and Kyoshi remind each other of him every day for a while, swapping stories about him when it gets to be too much, making eye contact when they can hear his voice making light of something stupid an official has said. Hei-Ran makes her do drills she made Yun do. Auntie Mui makes his favorite dish on his birthday that they do not pass in silence, because then what would they be, that group of misfits, to forget another outcast? If they don’t mourn the boy from Yokoya who will mourn them, or who would’ve mourned them if they hadn’t been so lucky? Who will care for the beggars and orphans of the world if not the Avatar who was once one of them and her companions? In a way, the retribution and pain of it all is justice for the life that Kyoshi took. Like, there’s just so much to unpack in the way she says “Was I right about anything at all? What will they say about me? Avatar Kyoshi, who killed her friend because she couldn’t save him?” But I don’t think her guilt would silence her. 

That being said, Yun was fundamentally a victim of a system that failed him. The same one that failed Kyoshi. In another way, her actions are justice on a world that failed her and her best friend and the similarities they shared, and she’s able to take those actions because of the way that Yun impacted her, for better or for worse. So yes, I think during her lifetime, she would speak of Yun and who he was, not letting people forget the ways they (and she) failed him and how easily everyone wants to forget their failure. It brings me to the way she was so angry with the Earth Kingdom establishment for discarding him and trying to hide history away. I don’t think she’d ever do that, even if she did...uh, dispatch him.

kyoshi, immortality, and her role as an avatar

I’d like to turn to two passages:

Kyoshi: “The way you describe it, you’d have to decide what version of yourself you’d be stuck as, forever.”

Lao Ge: “Exactly! Those who grow, live and die. The stagnant pool is immortal, while the clear flowing river dies an uncountable number of deaths.”

and

In the future, perhaps, she’d become finalized like carved stone. It would be easier to deal with the world then. She could only hope.

[...]

She still had to be careful not to lose her balance and fall. Kyoshi kept her eyes focused on her difficult path, sometimes stumbling but making sure to catch herself, taking one step at a time.

This isn’t directly related to what I think she would say, but more about how she lets her experiences, and therefore, her experiences and relationship with Yun, affect who she is. Here, F.C. Yee is detailing the person we see in her cameo in A:tLA. It’s a testament to her growth, yes, but also to how she lived so long. She’s allowed to grow now, while she’s young and still learning. But eventually Kyoshi’s growth will wane, leaving us with the iron woman we saw in A:tLA. 

Remember when I said I would call F.C. Yee a sap for the very last Kyoshi POV line? It’s the last sentence in my second excerpt, is that Kyoshi is allowing herself make mistakes. It’s pretty obviously a little deeper than the concept of walking down a slope: She became one of the most revered Avatars, we know how her story ends, if not lots of the in-betweens, but F.C. Yee tells us right here in that sentence. She changed and she learned. 

I think, however, that eventually she had to pick a place to stop in order to stop aging. If I had to pick a point where she became “immortal” I’d pick Rangi’s peaceful and timely death surrounded by her loved ones on Yokoya (not Kyoshi Island since I’m going to maintain that her A;tLA cameo was “immortal” Kyoshi) and I think Lao Ge killed her—or at least convinced her to let go.

further thoughts on her longevity: rangi’s role and future

Ok before anybody comes into my inbox like “um zey herglowinggirl I need you to know that actually Rangi also lived to 230 😌″ because I understand the sentiment it’s more like here’s what I’d like to discuss: Kyoshi can’t be immortal around Rangi because Rangi is in so many ways her catalyst for growth. First off, it would be completely out of character for Rangi to be immortal, because she’s constantly moving and being and feeling and judging and that changes her. Positive jing. And Lao Ge says it: “those who grow, live and die.” Rangi believes in the best and strives for the best, for perfection. For Kyoshi to freeze herself and become immortal, that would require picking an imperfect state. And as we know, Sei’naka women do not accept imperfection 😤. 

Although Rangi promises to always be by Kyoshi’s side, I think in the latter years of Kyoshi’s live it’s more like the impact that Rangi has had on her in that frozen state. That voice of Rangi’s is part of Kyoshi in those years. However, without Rangi, it is unlikely that Kyoshi will always or commonly choose to act on it. It’s stated multiple times throughout the novels that Rangi is Kyoshi’s center and that she doesn’t know who she’d be without Rangi, but I think the logical conclusion is immortal. With Rangi’s death she becomes her own center by stopping her growth; with Rangi’s death she just becomes...that stone she was talking about, where it does get easier to make decisions because you’re not striving to constantly change and grow. It’s almost a coping mechanism, if you will. Because Kyoshi is more than Rangi, can function without Rangi, it’s just not necessarily pretty.

lao ge’s role and future

Which brings me to my “in my personal version of canon Lao Ge kinda maybe killed Kyoshi” point. Rangi is in no way Kyoshi’s morality, but she is very much the idealistic ‘better’ half. With this catalyst of hope and change gone, I think back to the creation of the Dai Li—it very much sounds to me like something Jianzhu would do. Kyoshi, who had previously been the breakdown of negotiations, created a secret op police force? 

I think the moment Kyoshi started being the establishment, the moment she was the band-aid instead of the solution (much like Yun was, hint hint) Lao Ge would’ve paid her a visit. Either this or the creation of the Dai Li created a catalyst for perhaps an existential crisis, perhaps just being tired, perhaps simply knowing what is best...Kyoshi is, and always will be, a sworn criminal who cannot uphold the law, only her own judgements. She is both the law and the breaking and bending of it, and when she loses this balance when Rangi falls from her side and she becomes her own rock I think it would swing her away from her center, and this is where she becomes immortal. Eventually, it would become enough of an issue for people to intervene and tell her that her time as an Avatar is coming to an end. 

advice to future avatars

This is my favorite point and I’ll tie it back to Yun in just a second. I have posted about thinking about the impact of Yun’s death on Kyoshi and how that would’ve impacted her legacy and the advice she gave Roku and Aang before. Honestly what strikes me is how proud Kyoshi would be of Aang. The way that each Avatar must learn to forge their own way and become their own person and what their era needs, balancing themselves, is something so lovely. I think Kyoshi would’ve absolutely loved how Aang took the advice of his predecessors and said “no, I know what would be better for me,” and I think post-tSoK Kyoshi, who has learned she has to forge her own way and style as a leader, would love and be so proud of him for that. 

However, that doesn’t mean that her advice doesn’t have weight. I think mainly her “immortal” phase would perhaps have an impact on the way Yun impacts her advice. I think “only justice will bring peace” also speaks to the finality of death. Just like immortality, death keeps growth from happening. “only justice will bring peace” is also a nod to the way you must learn to cope with your actions and the way you feel about them. It’s also about Aang’s inner peace, which is something I don’t think I’ve ever seen mentioned. Everyone always wants to talk about what he should’ve done and how Kyoshi was right because she told Aang about her choice to let Chin die, but I think she actually guided him to the idea that you should be ok with yourself. To be confident in what you do and take up responsibility for your actions. Kyoshi wasn’t telling him murder was good. She was telling him she owned up to her actions and chose to make those decisions as an Avatar. To me, this finality speaks of growth after Yun’s death and the end of tSoK. She has grown and then frozen, but that means she has changed.

And although I don’t have an answer for what advice she might’ve given Roku, I think it’s a good way to interpret this. The only thing keeping Kyoshi from being honest about Yun’s death is the fact that Zoryu has “Yun” locked up. I think this is likely one of her biggest regrets, that she cannot be honest and responsible for something that weighs so heavily on her soul. This, I think, guides her advice. Only justice will bring peace. Now that I’ve thought it out, perhaps it wasn’t Lao Ge, and perhaps it was the idea that Yun had never been done justice and perhaps that turmoil never changed, which made her long-lived but not quite immortal. She cannot quite know the peace of death nor of life.

I think she must’ve told Roku that no matter what, he must accept the consequences of what he does. He’s not willing to loose that friendship and I think Kyoshi would’ve understood that, and the questions Roku would’ve had to pose himself as an Avatar. That is Kyoshi’s advice. Only justice, true justice in the form of accountability and self-actualization as a leader, will allow you to make good decisions. The acceptance of this: that whatever he does, he must be willing to accept it’s legacy, learn from it, and teach the next Avatar just as she let Yun’s death affect her leadership and what she taught. And I think that’s probably incredibly poetic, even if I’m getting a bit ahead of myself. 

[theballadoffinchesandsaints]

Let’s talk about the Vaincre trade:

(As I am writing this, only the first full chapter, July, has been published)

I’ve said before that I’m fairly certain it’s going to be Leo, but I want to walk through the thought process that got me there (this is long and unedited. You’ve been warned).

First, since this is going to be such a major plot point, I think it’s going to be a character who’s inner circle had at least a minor spotlight in the first chapter. These were Coops, O’knutzy, O’darwin, Thomas & Noelle (do they have a ship name???), Regulus (tho he’s obviously disqualified for not being a pro player rn), and Cole (with a bit of Dumo).

Additionally, I think a key component of this plotline will be developing characters so that they can stand on their own once separated from a crucial relationship (thematically, it makes the most sense to me).

With that in mind, let’s do some quick (yeah lol prob not quick) disqualifications from the list:

Remus: I know this is a more common theory (and god would it hurt) but Remus’ storyline is already jampacked with living up to the standards of the league, team, and public, as well as adjust to a new relationship dynamic with Sirius. On a more heavy note, Remus will have to navigate how playing hockey will interact with the trauma of Greyback’s attack and the resulting injury. I’m sure most of us inferred that this would be a plot point, but the idea was solidified in a snippet of Remus and the team discussing predictions for the top teams of the season.

Sirius: while narratively, I actually think it would be fascinating to see the lions learn to be a team without their leader and to see Sirius have to learn that there are other parts of the world he can trust, this one falls apart in both logistics and clues Hazel has already given us. Truly, I cannot imagine a trade in which it would make sense for the Lions to give up their beloved, talented, effective captain and first line center, especially after he just led them to Stanley Cup. And when someone asked Hazel about (I believe) what relationships would be highlighted in Vaincre, Coops made the list with the qualification that their storyline would largely center around Remus’s adjustment to the team. A Sirius trade requires long-distance Coops angst which, while possible, would be both difficult and against the spirit of the statement.

O’Darwin and Thomas & Noelle already have long-distance angst happening in July, so trading either Kasey or Thomas would miss some of the emotional punch we know Hazel is going to give us.

Cole: I mean, the kid’s a rookie. It doesn’t really make sense. Threads seem to be being set up with the Dumais’ baby sitter and maybe one of the new PTs? (I don’t remember exactly where I’m getting this from, but I’m near certain it was from Hazel’s tumblr). It seems like physical encounters are going to be a big thing with both of these relationships, plus all the obvious great storylines of a new rookie getting comfortable in the team, make it unlikely Cole will be the trade. Not to mention, there are no guts to punch with Cole. We love him already, but he isn’t close with anyone on the team yet. We’d feel disappointed, not devastated, if he got traded. We all know Hazel’s going for devastation.

Dumo: this one approaches probability for me. Dumo would be heartbreaking for every member of the team, but especially Sirius and Logan. It would also sort of follow through on a previous idea from a rough draft of SW where Dumo has a career-ending injury. All the players would have to learn to navigate life without a father figure, and it would break down the system of where many Lions rookies live. But this one’s all speculation, at least as far as I know. It’s not hinted at in July, and I can’t think of any snippets that suggest Dumo. Plus, it feels like all of the main POVs have been set up in July, and we know from the dreaded “of being a lion” snippet (in which said player gets called about the trade) that we do get POV chapters from the player who’s traded.

We’ll get back to O’knutzy later. First, some people who aren’t on the list that I feel are worth discussing briefly (tho these are unlikely for the reasons at the end of Dumo’s):

Kuny & Nado: Now, I remember Kuny’s “no trades, no trades” thing from Hazel’s tumblr. It hurts. It feels like foreshadowing. But, remember, Hazel has also said that these boys will both play a more secondary role in Vaincre. They’re both safe.

James: I go back and forth on this one all the time. Thematically, separating Sirius and James would be both heartbreaking and deeply interesting. James was a major force in bringing Sirius out of his shell, and Sirius would have to learn to maintain that without his best friend always by his side. James and Lily are also suspiciously absent from July. I know Hazel said they’re on their honeymoon, and I’m not disputing that in any way, shape, or form. However, it does provide ample excuse to become a new POV in August. However, I can’t find any snippets to really support it. And, just, in general, James as a character in Hazel’s fics (or at least in Solntse and SW) provides a stable backbone for the other characters. He’a developed as a character but stable and happy. This could be the thing that changes that, but, at the very least, it doesn’t fit the narrative role he serves in SW, and I think it would change the feel and character dynamic of the fic as a whole (not just of the team) too much for that to be the choice.

And then there’s O’knutzy:

Going into Vaincre, I asked myself: what are everyone’s plotlines going to be? Remus will adjust to the team and playing Greyback. Sirius will largely be his support system, tho some stuff may be done with his relationship with Regulus and/or moving on from any semblance of his parents’ influence. Dumo will welcome rookie Cole onto the team. James will be a new father. Thomas and Noelle will have long-distance relationship feels. Kasey will adjust to O’darwin, and probably also deal with his reoccurring injury.

And the cubs? Are in a happy, stable relationship with everything they’ve ever wanted. The seeds to a storyline regarding whether or not they choose to come out was definitely hinted at in July, but I don’t think it will be their sole focus. Thankfully, there is nothing pressuring them to come out currently. They think about it. They long to do it. But nothing has changed since the end of SW/CtC. If one of them was long-distance, that would change the dynamic. When you can always go home to your two loving boyfriends, it doesn’t hurt quite as bad when you can’t be affectionate when out with them in public. When you’re only in the same city for a day or two roughly every month (depending on which team the trade is with), every second you could spend holding them and don’t hurts more and more. Whether I think they choose to come out or not, I really don’t know. I think so, but I’m definitely not sure. But the real question is, which cub goes away and prompts this?

If it’s a cub, it’s definitely Leo. Hazel posted a snippet that just...says so much.

Do I even need to explain? She practically told us. I’ve spent over an hour analyzing nearly every prominent Lion when Hazel practically told us Leo was going to be the trade with this right here.

But I do have more to say. I don’t think either Finn or Logan would work well as the trade. The plot of them being separated was well explored in CtC, and I honestly just don’t think it needs more examination. They learned to cherish each other, talk to each other, love each other freely and honestly. Them being separated again would just hurt. It wouldn’t serve a narrative purpose.

On the other hand, I do think Leo’s character could actually benefit from some time alone. He had barely a few months as a full-blown adult, working in the NHL, before he entered a committed relationship with his two lovely boyfriends, both of whom had had years more time to live with and explore themselves (tho it’s not as if they were doing that freely). A couple of months or even years dating long-distance could force Leo to have some more adventures on his own and come into himself more. Then, he can fully return to his boys, his “long-lost lover[s],” and be more stable in his love.

In a similar vein, Logan and Finn have only had short amounts of time to make their leg of the relationship stable and happy in comparison to the time they spent yearning or heartbroken. Even in CtC, their reflex is to go to Leo first, which is, of course, perfectly fine and lovely and adorable, but I think they need to spend some time unlearning that knee jerk reaction.

Then, when Leo comes back (because one way or another, in canon or in my head, he will), all three are confident in themselves as individuals and in each leg of the relationship as well as the three of them as group. No one and no couple n e e d s anything, but they come back together because they all love each other, more than anything.

That’s what I think will see in Vaincre. At the very least, it’s what I want.

Vaincre is by the one and only @lumosinlove

[lil-pine-mha-drabbles]

Can u please write a Shoto fanfic (or could be for multiple characters) inspired by Murders by Miracle Musical? 😭😭😭 The line "all for nothing at all" hits very VERY hard for me. Can u make it as angst as possible too?

Todoroki Shoto x Murderer Reader

I listened to that song a bunch and still my brain didn’t process all of the story in that song, I hope that you will still enjoy this. I did work hard and I think I did ok, but I put my own spin on it.

TW: A LOT of blood, a few swear words, and heavy(ish) angst.

I got too into the storyline I forgot all the actual angst I was supposed to put in.

Here are some people that inspire me, @alpha-bnha-boys and @random-mha-thoughts

There are 2567 words to read below the line!

————————————

Were the woods always this scary?

The leaves rustled and the wind whistled as it sifted through the dark branches. It would have been a peaceful day if it weren’t for the darkness that had been put over the woods. You looked up through the cracks in the leaves to see that the sky was beginning to darken as well. You picked up your axe and wiped of the blood of the animal laying dead on the ground, the blood pooling around your feet. The smell was enticingly sweet, the scent of blood always fascinated you. As you grew older you figured out your favorite type of blood was human, there was something about the fact that there was no fur to get matted when the liquid gushed out leaving you in excitement to see the beautiful color on the white or chocolate skin.

You may be a murderer but you didn’t discriminate. You hoped desperately to find another human in these woods to harvest but you would wait and kill others patiently. The hunt is what you enjoyed; the feeling of raw adrenaline as you ran after your prey.

You had a quirk, and that quirk was a shifting quirk. You could change into any animal; real or fantasy that you could think of, but... whatever you choose you keep the appetite and diet of that chosen creature for a week.

If say, you wanted to be a horse, you would eat grass for a week, even after shifting back, if you wanted to be a dragon, you would be eating meat and spewing fire all week.

But, if you shifted into a herbivore then into a carnivore, you would not only be eating meat AND plants, you would have double the hunger for blood. To most people that would horrify them, but since you drank blood like apple juice, you had no problem going on a killing spree to sedate your desire.

You picked up the blood in the buckets you brought and rang out the already mangled body over the container. Finally you grabbed your shovel and dug by a dried tree. Soil that has a calcium deficiency ate up bodies quickly. If you buried and animal under a tree, the roots would wrap around the white bones in haste to receive their needed vitamin.

After the burial was complete you picked up the two buckets and walked to your cabin.

Now, these woods were special. There was a fountain of mirrors which showed your true inner self but only few have seen it. Those who have are trapped in the woods forever to guard the fountain from others who wish to see themselves.

You sniffed the air and quietly put down your buckets when you smelled it. Fresh prey.

Someone was in the woods whether they’re lost or they’re looking for the fountain, you don’t care, you’ll drink them up either way and leave their bones to the trees of the forest.

You turned into a bunny and jumped over boulders and bushes to reach the heavenly smell. It was sweeter then any human you have ever smelled, but it was surrounded by two other people. Well, you could eat two and save the sweetest for later, like a dessert.

There was a girl and two boys walking with picnic baskets through your woods. The girl was wearing bright pink, easy to spot. One boy had green hair that just made you want to rip out and watch the blood fall from the open scalp.

The last was the sweetest one. His hair was red and white, he would be easy to track down. If he ran you could sniff him out, or look through the darkness for his bright self.

The girl would be easiest to lure, you thought. She would like to chase the cute little bunny, but would ultimately get eaten by the big bad wolf.

You hopped out in front of the girl and her eyes went wide as she squealed to the boys next her how cute you were.

“Hoe, I am gorgeous, not cute.” You thought to yourself bitterly.

You hopped a little father away and the white and red haired boy tried to stop her.

“Uraraka, it’s dangerous in these woods, I wouldn’t recommend chasing the bunny.” He looked through you like he knew everything about you and you shook with anticipation.

Oh, this would be fun.

“Look, it’s cold. It’s shaking so much... please, I gotta help it.” You rolled your eyes and hopped away looking like you were limping. Your sweetest prey just sighed and waved her off like he knew she would be killed by you. The girl smiled and ran after you while the boys waited on the path for her.

When you lead her far enough that the boys wouldn’t see your smallest dragon form, you changed rapidly, stretching over her, your head curled around to the other side so she couldn’t run. You let her scream and then bit.

The blood squelched in your mouth as the neck snapped and your eyes rolled back at how good the flavor was. You sucked and sucked until she was nothing but a dried carcass on the floor.

You flew to the trees in your terrifying black creature form. “The Black Chaos.” The only way to describe this form is it looks like the chupacabra. Black fur that looked like porcupine quills, tail covered in spikes, claws as thin and as sharp as the sharpest knife, and wings that could cut through the thickest tree trunks in your way.

The two boys ran as fast as they could to where they heard the scream only for the green one to start bawling about his love, and your sweet, sweet prey looked around to assess the situation. He looked at all the trees till he locked eyes with you. His left side covered it self in flames and his right put a field of ice around his now screaming friend. You smiled at him, teeth glistening with the blood of the girl. Your eyes stayed on him as you flew up and over the trees.

He breathed a small sigh of relief, thinking you had left until he heard his ice shatter and you fly out, holding his last friend’s neck between your teeth. He was paralyzed with fear while sucked all of the blood from his friend while you locked eyes.

He couldn’t maintain eye contact much longer and turned to the side to throw up. You changed your form into your human body and watched from a distance curiously. Why did he feel sick? You were only eating a meal. Did he dislike you?

You had never felt this feeling before. It was one of dread and confusion, maybe, guilt. You watched him spill his guts for a bit more before he wiped his mouth and looked at you sitting on the ground, legs crossed, head tilted like a confused child.

“Why do you come to my woods, red one?” You asked.

“Why did you eat my friends?!”

“I was just having dinner, what’s the big deal? I’d rather have meals then friends.” You stated to him plainly.

He looked at you funny.

“I’m not afraid of death. When will you kill me?”

“Rather bold of you to think I was going to eat my dessert on a full stomach.” You looked at your black claw-like nails in thought.

“Dessert?”

“Dessert, your starting to get on my nerves. I might just keep you as punishment.”

“Is this some kind of sick twisted flirting?!” Tears streamed down his face, his eyes puffy red, and the darkness around him made you almost purr he looked so gorgeous.

“Is it working?” This time you did purr, your words surprised the boy as he flopped down onto the floor in defeat. “Well?” You asked again.

“Maybe you should have come up like a normal person and asked me on a date instead of EATING MY FRIENDS!?”

“I can see why you’re mad, but what is ‘date’?”

“A date, like where you take someone you might want to marry out to dinner or something.”

“Like a courtship then?”

“How old are you?” He asked curiosity lacing his voice as you purred because of the lovely sound.

“I was born in 1823. Lovely time I must admit, until they tried to burn me at the stake because I was the only person with a quirk.” You rolled your eyes then smile suddenly at the boy in front of you.

“How,” he coughed, “how old were you when you were killed?”

“Oh dear me, no, I wasn’t killed! I escaped into these woods, of course!!” Your smile must’ve grown larger because he looked like he became more uncomfortable. “Sorry, I smile too much.”

“No, you don’t smile too much, I just became uncomfortable because I’m sitting right next to my best friends’ corpses. No biggie.” He said with what you believed was sarcasm.

“I remember the first time I sat next to my best friend’s dead corpse, my father killed her when he found us kissing behind the barn! He wasn’t pleased that his daughter was becoming a ‘whore’. But! I showed him, after years of abuse from that bastard, I sucked his brains right out of his empty eye sockets! Good times, good times!” You laughed bitterly. “You probably think I’m some freak right? A girl can’t like girls and guys, it’s immoral.”

“Well, that’s not why I find you a freak, but you’re fine. It’s called being a bisexual. It’s not super new but it’s definitely more widely excepted now days.” He smiled at you slightly which made you smile a bit.

You two talked through the night like that. He explained that his father was emotionally and physically abusing him, and he had problems with showing emotion because of it. He wasn’t exactly “okay” with you killing his friends but he seemed more excepting then anyone you could think of.

You’d been with Shoto for months now. He was forever forced to stay in the woods. (With you not letting him leave only to go back to his father, it could be quite difficult.)

You talked about everything and anything, he taught you how to cook meat and how to prepare a meal without drinking blood. You stayed in your human form for the rest of the time he was with you and the only animals you were ever allowed to transform into were herbivores, which made sense. You hadn’t eaten raw meat in months and you thought you were doing better.

You thought.

You warned him. “Full moon is coming, stay in the cabin when I’m out, don’t leave. I won’t be able to control myself.” You told him, over, and over, and OVER. He didn’t LISTEN.

You were out in your most dangerous form, the Black Chaos. Wings spread out you hunted without being able to stop yourself. This was the only time of year you physically couldn’t restrain yourself from hurting others, and killing, and hunting.

Over the past hundreds of years that you’ve roamed these woods, this was the only time you were scared of yourself. You hated the way you couldn’t control yourself when you smell the slightest bit of sweet blood.

You had hunted ninety-nine beasts in the forest, bears, wolves, bunnies, foxes, dogs, dear, frogs, if they had meat on them, they were dead. Every time you hunt like this you count how many you kill.

It’s always a hundred. Exactly.

The moon was falling fast and you felt yourself slowly come back but something wasn’t right, you had seen a few animals pass you but you had no intention of killing them, yet you only had ninety-nine.

What was your body waiting for?

You looked out towards where the sun was rising and felt yourself stay on edge. Whatever was happening, Black Chaos still held the rains of your body.

That’s when it hit. The sweetest scent, Shoto.

He must’ve left the cabin looking for you now that the sun had risen, you wanted to call out to him, scream, “run!!! Stay away!!” But no words left your mouth as your body surged forward, bounding on all fours, not even utilizing your wings.

You saw the head of red and white hair in the distance and you finally let out and agonizing scream. “RUN!!!” That was all you could say before your eyes turned red and he turned and ran.

The chase was on.

You could hear his breathy huffs as he ran you could hear the leaves crunch under his feet, his sobs that wracked his body as his tears fell. He was terrified, of YOU.

You were screaming and crying and trying to stop this mess but the thing inside you wouldn’t stop seeking blood, his blood.

Finally after twenty minutes of running and crying on both parts, he tripped and you loomed over him, your long black tongue lolled out and touched his face, caressing it sweetly, wiping his tears as his chest rose and fell rapidly. Not only from all of the running, but also the fear of you.

He always said he wasn’t afraid of death but after looking into your eyes, your eyes that held death, he realized something. He was afraid, but he was in love with death. He loved you. YOU. The one who comforted him and joked with him and learned how to be human from him.

“I love you!” He yelled out as your long tentacle tongue wrapped around his neck, your teeth inches away from biting down.

“I love you so much it aches! I want to live with you forever! I want to teach you to be human and hug you when you’re sad!” He cried and cried and watched as your own tears fell for your eyes.

Then you bit down.

You screamed in agonizing pain as your only love was ripped from you by yourself. You did this. Your human form came back to you and you slammed you fists on Shoto’s chest.

“I love you so fucking much!”

“I’m so sorry!!! I’m so sorry!! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry... I’m so—“ your laid your head on his chest and cried and cried and cried.

Shoto’s hands moved to your face and wiped your tears.

“I love you too. You’re wonderful.”

You hugged him tightly crying harder in relief. How was he alive?

“It’s cliché to say that your love woke me up, but look at where we are.”

You look around and a smile made it’s way to your face. You were in the Fountain of Mirrors. The water had already healed Shoto’s neck.

He had tripped into the shallow pool when you were chasing him and you were too worried about him to see that you were surrounded by the water.

“You’re a guardian now. Of the woods, I mean.” You laughed threw your sobs.

“I know. And I will be forever.”

And so, you and Shoto live in the forest of Murder for the rest of the days of the earth. You looked into the mirror to see yourself a beautiful swan, you were no longer Black Chaos, you were White Savior, helping all people away from the fountain instead of gobbling them up.

The End.

[the-crows-typist]

lemilia-san!! could i request a jamil x reader ficlet with the word “secure” please? thank you 🥺🥺

The Possibilities are Endless

“You're the strongest person I know.”

Quiet, calm, calculated, those were the words used to describe the vice dorm leader of the Scarabia dorm: Jamil Viper. He knew the exact time to act on a task, how to do it, and how to execute it perfectly. Some theorized that it was trained into him by being the ward of the Al-asim’s heir Kalim for many years but in reality, Jamil was just good at noticing things.

That’s why when the prefect of the Ramshackle dorm didn’t come in for a few days, he was one of the first people to notice it but he never made a move. It was too early, perhaps they just had the flu.

Three days later and Jamil noticed the familiar back of the prefect present from behind. They seemed healthy but...Something wasn’t right. He looked back to the board where Divus Crewel was writing important notes. “The heart of a magician often, if not always, affects the quality of magic.” He explained as he drew a caricature of a heart. “A heart struck with fear or anger can or may cause the quality of magic to be sporadic or out of control which, as a result, can cause a sudden increase of blot on your magical pen. A heart struck with sadness or pain often produces a bad quality and more energy is spent to try and stabilize it, be mindful that too much spent magic coupled with negative emotions can induce a state of overblot. That is why, my dear puppies, you must always maintain a levelled head.” His crop tapped his gloved hand and Jamil could feel the room become silent as the students heeded his warnings.

“Do not let your emotions overtake your magic. It will lead to consequences that are not easily reversed.”

The prefect was the last person out of the room that day with Crewel telling them to stay back and to explain their absences. Jamil stayed out of sight but within range to hear their conversation, he felt like his senior Rook but justified that his ‘spying’ was for the betterment of someone he had respect for.

“You’ve missed a week’s worth of school.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Is that all you have to say for you falling behind by one week?” Crewel’s voice was void of his disappointment, Jamil observed, it was as if he was concerned for them. “One or two days, I understand but an entire week can throw you off. You and I both know that repeating a year is not easy.”

The prefect remained silent, their hands on their sides and their eyes never looking at the disappointed but concerned teacher. “Tell me what’s wrong. What happened?”

Jamil couldn’t see them stiffen under Crewel’s gaze, the bout of hesitance that washed over them the moment he asked. They couldn’t answer. “It’s personal, professor...It wouldn’t count as an excuse for my absences.” Fidgety, the prefect’s body hunched over and Divus had no other choice to but to send them away.

“I will be assigning you additional worksheets for you to answer so you can catch up. See to it that you have it finished by Friday.”  There lied the voice of concern that a guardian would have for their child. Jamil leaned back against the wall as the prefect said their thanks and walked out of the room. Back hunched, eyes drooped, lips tight.

“Didn’t go so well, did it?” He asked, walking with them down the hall and to the cafeteria. “No.” Their voice was soft and quivering like a bird in a winter storm, begging for warmth in the onslaught of the frigid winds that howled through the white backdrop. Jamil noticed the sad gleam in their eyes.

It’s too early to act now.

“Come eat lunch with me.” He said with a smile gracing his lips. One that was disarming and oozing of kindness and understanding; a smile that someone could trust. “You look like you could use some company.”

Kalim was more than happy to accept a few new people to join him for lunch. The food he had smelled good and was cooked all by Jamil himself. “Jamil is a great cook, there’s no doubt about it.” A steamed bun was passed the prefect’s way. “Dig in, you can as much as you like.”

The prefect didn’t have much an appetite but ate the bun little by little; the seasoned meat coated their tongue and filled their senses. Jamil’s cooking was indeed good and slowly, they were starting to feel better.

Jamil caught the small smile on their lips and all he felt was relief.

 “Jamil, can I ask you something?” The prefect suddenly asked, looking up from the worksheet they were working on. The two decided to spend their free time in the library and work on the sheets Crewel gave them, Jamil decided to tag along after Kalim said he’ll be taking extra hours to practice a song.

Jamil figured it was away to grant him alone time, Kalim has been doing that a lot recently.

“What is it?”

They put their pen down; it was a regular fountain pen with the absence of a jewel. Since they weren’t capable of magic, the school opted not to issue them one. The gold lining shined against the yellow light of the school’s library, bathing them in a comfortable atmosphere.

“I just want to know why you’re helping me,” They began.

“Does it matter who I choose to extend my help to?” He asked but soon regretted his tone when he saw the flash of fear pass the eyes of the prefect. Though hours have passed since their scolding, it still lay fresh on their mind.

“No, no, I don’t mean that I don’t appreciate it—“They backtracked, shaking their hands with a scared expression. “It’s just...We aren’t very close. The only time we ever talked was...Well, during that one winter break.”

He did not heed Crewel’s warning; he let his heart get the best of his magic and ended up hurting those he shouldn’t have hurt.  He remembers the day his anger had gotten the best of him and he ended doing things that cost him the trust and love of others. He remembers the scared and scornful expressions of his dorm mates, Kalim’s promise to forgive him, and the prefect...Who visited any time they could just to check on him.

Somehow, no matter how short that visits were, it meant more to him than they realized.

Someone from the outside cared about him, not the vice dorm leader he made himself out to be.

“I respect you. It takes a lot of guts to survive four overblots.” Their eyes widened slightly. “You may not see it, prefect, but...You’re one of the strongest people in the school. Take it from me.”

“...You’re always so guarded with you words so to hear something so heartfelt,” A smile adorned their face, one close to tears and of immense gratitude. “It feels so comfortably weird.”

Jamil’s smile widened just a little bit, little by little he was gaining their trust and soon the worksheets were finished just before the portals could close. The two wished each other goodnight, Jamil hoped to see them the next day.

 But he didn’t.

He didn’t see them the entire day after that. And just when he felt that he was getting somewhere with them; frustration bubbled within him and anger boiled, not anger at them but at himself. They cared about him but he couldn’t administer the same feeling back.

He was too secure with his feelings.

He waited too long.

He...

“Go to them, Jamil.”

Kalim’s smile opposed Jamil’s turmoil, the dorm leader patted his back. “I can handle myself without you. I’ll be alright. Go.” For all the years he’s been with Kalim, for all the times he was forced to look the other way to guarantee his enjoyment, it was only now that he noticed how vibrant his smile was.

“I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

“I can wait.”

Jamil ran from his post, looking for the person he cared for the most.

 He was beginning to doubt if they were inside the school, he opened the gym door with a loud screech and took a step in. The usually well-lit and noisy building was now cool and silent. The ringing silence evoked a suspicious calm.

“Prefect?” He called out, walking further into the gym.

“Jamil..?” A door opened, the prefect’s head peaked out of the storage room. “There you are.” He ran towards them, a hand to their shoulder not long after. “I was so worried about you. Are you alright?”

“Why did you find me?”

His smile was warm and maybe a little offended at the question. “What kind of question is that? I care about you.”

 The two camped inside the storage room, the prefect leaning against Jamil’s shoulder. “You’re not as secure as you once were...That smile said it all.” They commented, hands intertwined with his.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No...”

“...”

“It’s just...I just want to go home.” They began, eyes closed and snuggling closer to his shoulder. “I miss it.”

His arm went around their shoulder, squeezing comfortably. “You will.”

Jamil observed the prefect’s face for a moment and soon caught a smile of comfort amidst the tears that slipped out their secure mask. Little by little, their heart began to show and little by little, ink blots in their heart began to fizzle out in the arms of comfort.

[ddarker-dreams]

2 Become 1. Trish x F Reader [Smut]

a/n: uhh. i love women. ahaaaaaaaaa.... i’ve never really written smut before so here’s to hoping this is Coherent . i imagine this taking place a few years down the line from the anime, when trish is an established singer and you’re her adoring gf!! thank you @vani-ya​ for editing my first attempt at smut <33 word count: 2.2k. warnings: light suffocation, verbal degradation, some possessiveness.

“You always let them look at you like that,” Trish huffs, kicking her pearl colored taormina pumps off onto the floor without a care. Her typically meticulously styled hair has been reduced to a shadow of itself, loose strands of pink locks framing her face. She looks unhinged, the cocktail dress wrapped around her chest moving in time with her heaving breaths. “I can’t stand it.” 

Your weight shifts from leg to leg, uncertain of how to best resolve this situation. Tonight was meant to be a monumental one for your lover, the release of her second full album. Accompanying the event was an exclusive party, high society socialites coming in droves to support and swarm about. Big name celebrities that maintain friendships with Trish weren’t a rare occurrence, as much as she bemoans having to stay on good terms with people she could care less for.

It was all going just fine until one of them started flirting with you.

She’s given you the cold shoulder ever since. You thought she’d be more understanding of your situation, not wanting to place her in an unwanted position by chasing off the suitor. Choosing your words felt almost like a death sentence, destined to upset someone no matter what you do. Unluckily for you, it’s Trish who’s exacting her pointed wrath upon you. All feeble attempts at explanations went unheard in favor of berating your supposedly “lascivious” behavior. 

“What? Fantasizing about him now or something? Stop zoning out and listen to me.” Her voice is laced with sweet poison, like a deadly melody to your ears. She scrunches her nose up -- as you’ve noticed she does when displeased -- glossy lips down turned. All of her mannerisms are memorized like the back of your hand, a treasure map you’ve long grown familiar with. This emotion of unbridled rage is a new one, and despite yourself, you feel a growing heat in between your legs at how she’s speaking down towards you.

“I’m not zoning out,” you reaffirm, applying a quick bandaid to a worsening situation. “Please, just let me explain--”

“Explain what? That you wanted someone other than me to fuck you?” 

The vulgar words fall from her tongue with ease, striking a chord within you. You’ve always known her to be the possessive type, coming from nothing and making her own way in the world. You were the only person she’s ever confided in, a reality that makes your heart swell with pride. She cherishes you, as you do her. 

“That’s not it at all.” 

This time, she opts to ignore you, struggling with the zipper on the back of her dress. Trish blows a strand of hair out of her face, growing more frustrated by the second. Your brain is still trying to work this out, thinking of all the best possible things to say to calm her down. When she gets like this, indignant and turning her nose to you, there’s not much to say. The pent up frustration needs a release somehow, and you have a few ideas on how to help her.

“Cara,” your voice is a low hush, just loud enough to reach her ears. You walk towards her, slowly, accenting the sway of your hips with every step. This dress hugs your figure perfectly, a gift given by your girlfriend. She’s still refusing to look at you, caught up in her mental battle of angst. The goosebumps dotting her skin don’t go unnoticed by you, familiar with how much she adores being called pet names by you. “Let me make it up to you.” 

Your shared King size bed creaks underneath the addition of your weight. From the rush of getting ready for tonight, clothes and shoes line the floor of your penthouse suite. Being so close to her gives a chance to inhale her signature perfume, rich with jasmine and hints of blackberry. Lips hover just above the pulse of her neck, tongue swiping out to lick a spot that sends her shivering. 

“Y-you can’t,” she inhales, rubbing her thighs together, “seduce me out of this one. I’m serious, you know.”

Humming against her soft skin in confirmation, your lips turn into a smile. She’s under your divine spell, her quickening pulse betraying the indifference of her words. Sucking lightly against the spot, you earn a sharp inhale when teeth meet flesh in a loving bite. Trish’s entire body is tense, muscles refusing to relax. Moving away from the spot on her neck, one of her most sensitive ones, you take in Trish’s appearance. Thick mascara-covered eyelashes cover her emerald eyes, roseate lips parting to either admonish you or encourage you further. 

Placing a hand on the soft skin of her thigh, you give a tentative squeeze. 

“Can’t seduce you out of this one, huh?” You can’t help but repeat her words back with a knowing smile, earning another sour expression. She tuts, peeling your groping hand off of her. Instead of pushing you away, she takes ahold of your shoulders, shoving you recklessly against the bed and climbing on top of you, straddling your hips. 

It’s her turn to tease you now, rubbing achingly slow just above your heat. You can feel her panties growing more soaked with each gyration, curses slipping from her lips. The stain this’ll undoubtedly leave against your dress is of little concern to you, too preoccupied with watching your girlfriend fuck herself against your exposed thighs to care. She leans her head back, movements growing more frantic, and in turn making your own heat desire stimulation. Before she can go further with her movements, she stops, as if remembering you’re there with her. Cheeks flushing, she motions to the zipper on the back of her dress. Understanding the silent message, you peel the fabric off of her skin, revealing her soft chest. Unable to help yourself, you dip down, latching your mouth against her sensitive nipple and suckling it softly. 

“S-such a whore, aren’t you?” She manages to get out in between shaky sighs. You let your actions speak on your behalf, occupying yourself with pleasuring her pert nipple. With your free hand, you knead her chest, thumb rubbing sensual circles into her. Moving back, you take the chance to flick your tongue over her nipple, drinking in the unabashed moans that drip from her lips like honey. She cants her chest into you, not so subtly grinding her clothed heat against you once more. 

Moving back with an audible pop, you look up to her. “I could say the same for you.” 

Needing some friction of your own, your fingers dip into your panties to rub against your slick folds. Trish watches with interest as you pleasure yourself, subconsciously biting her lip at the sight. With how worked up the two of you are getting, it wouldn’t take long to climax, but where’s the fun in that? Her hand snaps to yours, wrapping around your wrist and pulling it away. 

“Did I say you could do that?” The edge one would expect to accompany the words is gone, replaced with a deep longing. She can never stay upset with you for long. You’re both her weakness and strength, the sun that illuminates her life. You giggle at her impatience, lithe fingers tugging up your dress without wasting anymore time. She raises an eyebrow at your lacy black panties. Seeing how the skimpy fabric hugs the curves of your hips, accenting your ass, has her chewing the inside of her mouth. Had you not pissed her off earlier, she might have complimented your stupidly attractive body. 

Pushing the thought away for later, she pulls down your panties. Your cunt is on full display, flushed and begging to be touched. The way she stares at you, like a predator wanting to devour a meal, sends shivers down your spine. Kicking off her own panties, she throws them onto the floor without a care. Trish sweeps down, placing kisses against your clavicle, her soft hair brushing against your exposed skin. 

Not wanting to waste any more time, having hours of pent up frustration to take out on you, she presses you further into the bed. You spread your legs, already anticipating her next movements. Trish moves her pussy against yours, the both of you letting out a low noise. She inhales shakily, steadying her arms on either side of you. Treating you like nothing other than a tool for her own pleasure, she fucks herself against you, moans growing louder with every movement of her hips. Any teasing for her zeal in pleasing herself dies out on your tongue, too occupied with the delicious friction of your cunts rubbing together. You move your hips up to meet her halfway, head thrown back at how amazing she makes you feel. 

Trish pants, increasing her pace, but growing more erratic in the process. “You… you make me so angry…” 

You whimper pitifully at her admonishing, Trish takes the opportunity to pinch your nipples in a borderline painful fashion. It sends a wave of pleasure over you, moan after moan leaving your lips as she continues to abuse your pussy with her own. You can feel your release building up, growing stronger with each passing second. Trish, your ever-attentive girlfriend, senses how your thighs start to tense up.

“That’s, hah, that’s right,” she takes in a deep breath, flicking your nipple once again. “Ngh… come, just because of me… no one else, only me…!” 

You let out a strangled moan at her encouragement, orgasm sending waves of satisfaction throughout your entire body. She continues her movements, fucking you to the fullest, wanting the scent of her perfume to seep into your skin. To have you all to herself, claiming you as her personal slut. Knowing that if anyone wanted a taste of you, it’d be Trish’s cum mixed in with your own. When your body relaxes against the bed, sweat covered chest trying desperately to take in air, she moves off your exhausted body.

Still overcoming your own haze, you manage to weakly ask what she’s doing, knowing she has yet to come. But she shushes you, crawling over to your spot on the bed. Before you get the chance to ask what she’s doing, she lifts herself up, her own wet folds hovering just inches above your face. You flush a bright red at the sight, able to interpret what it is she wants, but still surprised by the boldness of her actions.

“Act like a whore, get treated like a whore. Make some use of that stupid tongue for once.” 

Trish lowers herself against your mouth without another word. Out of instinct, your hands reach to grope the plump curve of her ass, keeping her from suffocating you entirely. She moans when your fingertips dig into the soft skin, unable to stop herself from humping your face. Swallowing, your tongue peaks out, flattening against her hot cunt. In a slow, teasing motion, you take your time tasting her. Tongue pressed harshly against her folds, starting at the bottom and licking to the top. You stop just shy of her clit, holding back a laugh at the whine she emits. 

Feeling a new sense of vigor at the taste of your girlfriend’s cum leaking out, you lap at her pussy, knowing testing her patience any further will land you in hot water. Trish’s fingers curl up, hips gyrating in time with your tongue’s movements. She’s getting closer herself, body growing tenser as you eat her pussy out. Her hands reach out to the bedpost, steadying her trembling thighs. With the newfound support, she fucks your face, frantically chasing her own release. Her moans increase in volume, a string of curses leaving her as she stills against your tongue, which alternates between sucking and licking her heat. 

There’s no speaking at first, only Trish climbing off of you. She swings her legs over the side of the bed, not wanting you to see how flushed her face is. The opportunity to take in much needed oxygen is taken advantage of, panting until your heart rate settles just a bit. When she doesn’t initiate a conversation, you crawl over to her bare back, placing kisses on it. Wrapping your arms around her midsection, your lips press against the shell of her ear, blowing. 

“Are you still mad at me, il mio angelo musicale?”

You nibble on her ear as she tenses, all too familiar with how much she loves your little nickname for her. Trish doesn’t swat you away, instead leaning against your bare chest, sighing at the sensation. She wants to berate you further, but a void in her heart stops the words from leaving. All along, she knew on some level that you weren’t doing anything malicious. Just the thought of some man coming along and picking your unfairly cute self up was upsetting enough. She’s lost too much, too many people. 

If she lost you, her world would be meaningless. 

Instead of voicing any of these sentimental thoughts, she clicks her tongue. There’s no spite in her words, not anymore, instead replaced with thinly veiled adoration for you. “Maybe. I’ll have to think about it some more.” 

“If you need to ride my face again just to find out, let me know. You’ll have to pay for my neck surgery, should it be necessary.”

“S-shut up! God you’re so stupid…” 

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hey! Do you know any royal!stiles with any ship? I just want to read him being a prince and/or a king

I got you.

I’ve Been Dreaming by 42hrb

(1/1 I 4,116 I Teen I Sterek)

The Sterek Enchanted AU no one asked for

(Welcome To) Far Far Away, or The Tale of Wolfskin and the Fox Prince by scarlettletterr

(4/4 I 14,716 I General I Sterek)

There's a wolf sleeping in the cabin on the outskirt of Beacon Hills, and a fox in the Prince's chambers. This is a tale of magic, of lemon cakes, and oblivious idiots falling in love in the country of Far Far Away.

---

aka. A Fairy Tale AU where Derek is Donkeyskin and Stiles is Fiona but also Aurora.

Prince of the Dead by GrimReaperlover11

(17/? I 39,111 I Teen I Sterek)

Persephone always wanted a child but hasn't been able to conceive with her husband Hades. However one day a seer tells her that she will finally be blessed with a child.

Many years pass until one spring as she strolls through a forest she comes across an abandoned infant. Taking this child to her husband the two Gods decide that they will become the parents of this mortal child fulfilling the prophecy.

Follow Stiles as he grows up in the underworld being raised as the child of the king of the underworld and the queen of springtime. witness as he tries to form bonds with mortals once he reaches the age of eighteen.

*I suck at summaries but trust me...i think you'll like it*

Missing Son of Beacon by mrdcoolblue

(4/4 I 41,298 I Teen I Sterek)

Sensing Stiles’s obvious discomfort, Peter used one well manicured hand to open a file folder in front of him and gleefully asked, “Shall I read to you these anomalies?”

“Please don’t,” Stiles begged.

Peter ignored him and slid the papers closer to read them. “Stiles McCall. Eighteen years old. Resident of Beacon Hills. Supposedly arrested for—” He hesitated with a quirk of his mouth.

“Possession,” Stiles groaned.

Peter downright leered. “What was that, Mr. McCall?” He was enjoying this way too much.

“Possession of sick abs,” Stiles finished, feeling miserable.

. . .

Beacon has three ruling families: the Martins, the Argents, and most importantly the Hales. No one really talks about the Stilinskis—who used to rule over them all—since Queen Claudia tragically died in a fire eight years ago and her only heir, Prince Mieczysław, went missing.

Of course, royal drama and unsolved arson cases were far from Stiles’s mind when he arrived at school with his brother Scott and best friend Danny like it was just a normal day. That is, until representatives from the royal palace show up looking for something.

Like Heaven Catching Lighting by weathervaanes 

(1/1 I 41,519 I Explicit I Sterek)

Prince Stiles of Cor has always known, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he was never truly going to marry for love. Fighting it has only made it worse. Now, presented with a choice between two children of the Hale family of Ignis, Derek and Cora, he must make the decision to determine who will rule by his side. If only it were that simple.

-0-

“Tell me,” he says, taking a drink. “If your sister does accept me as her husband, would you be pleased for her fortune or yours?”

Derek sets down the pitcher and moves further into the room, removing his vest and setting it over a chair. “I don’t believe that’s a fair question. If she finds happiness in your kingdom, by your side, of course I’ll be pleased for her.”

“And relieved, I imagine.”

Derek turns, arms crossed over his chest. “Would you be?”

 A Devotion by TroubleIWant

(9/9 I 77,076 I Mature I Sterek)

There’s a boy exiting the doors as they approach. Where Derek is tan from hours outside, the boy is pale except for a few beauty marks on one cheek. He’s dressed in fine riding clothes, and flanked by a guard wearing the sign of the royal house. A noble, then. He’s younger than Derek, but, considering his higher station, a bow would be appropriate. Despite that, Derek can’t help looking curiously at the boy, who’s looking back at Derek with just as much interest. For a moment, their eyes meet - the boy’s are a deep amber in the sunlit courtyard, ringed by long, tawny lashes.

A gloved hand smacks the back of Derek’s head and he instinctively flinches away, hunching his shoulders. He loses track of the other boy as they pass one another, and as he turns to get another look, the knight grabs his shoulder and marches him forward into the stable.

“Keep your eyes to yourself,” the knight instructs. “And next time, show the proper respect to Crown Prince Stiles.”

Or: A medieval AU that's a little Princess Bride, a little bit more Game of Thrones, and a healthy side-serving of gay erotica.

The Fox & The Wolf by Dexterous_Sinistrous

(10/10 I 79,151 I Explicit I Sterek)

The war between the fox and wolf clans has raged for centuries, ignited in a time before anyone can remember. Now both clans—tired of the bloodshed and hate—are searching for a way to end the war.

Crowned prince Stiles Stilinski—heir to the fox clan—has agreed with his father to meet with the Hales, the ruling royal family over the wolf clan. Under the counseling of the Druids, both clans are presented with a solution to the war: unite the Stilinski and Hale clans through marriage. To quell their people's anger, both Stiles and Derek—eldest living Hale Alpha—are urged to accept the other as an equal; as their mate.

For the sake of their people, both houses make the ultimate sacrifice by choosing duty over love. But, out of what was first assumed to be compromised, quickly turns to be a better match than either could have hoped for. But not all is easy for either clan, as some members refuse to believe that the war could end so easily.

A Desperate Arrangement by mikkimouse

(29/29 I 115,506 I Explicit I Sterek)

"I'm sorry, I believe there's something wrong with my hearing," Stiles said. "Because I could have sworn you just told me you set up a betrothal agreement with the Hales. A betrothal agreement involving me. Me."

Scott smiled his easygoing smile and nodded, which told Stiles no, he hadn't misheard a damn thing.

After seven years of lengthy negotiations, the treaty between the Hales and the Argents has fallen apart and the two countries fell into war.

Months later, there's an uneasy truce, thanks to the intervention of King Scott McCall, but it won't last. In a desperate attempt to maintain the peace, the Hales sign a treaty with the McCalls to marry Prince Derek to Prince Stiles Stilinski, King Scott's brother.

In the history of the world, there have been many better ideas.

Ours is the Fury by Haleofalannister

(8/? I 140,419 I Explicit I Sterek)

The Nine Realms of Westeros are united under the rule of King John Baratheon I. However, even in times of peace there is strife to be found. Bloody Civil Wars are being waged within houses; alliances are being forged through the back channels of Westeros; the ever present conflict between the Reach and Dorne is continuing to escalate; and the Targaryens are as mad as ever. One has to wonder what event will trigger the hairpin that is holding this strenuous peace together, and if one will still find a stag seated on the Iron Throne when the dust settles.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 118

Winding down to the end of 2020, when there will be an announcement regarding the story. No worries: I’m not stopping at the end of the year!

First, thanks for this chapter go to: @zommbiebro for Jokul, @wildforestferret for Hannah, @baelpenrose for Alistair and being an amazing Beta Reader/writing partner, and @raven-fae for originally giving me the NERVE to start posting this so long ago.  I never imagined that a one-off response to a writing prompt would become so much!

Housekeeping stuff: I updated the Master List and the page links over the weekend (whew), and also finished all the chapters that will post through the end of the year! Much excite, so relief.

Rushing between appointments, I was trying to multitask by looking over one of the files for the cooking class volunteers.  Quiet beeps in the back of my mind should have reminded me to watch where I was going as I kept setting off proximity warnings in people I nearly ran into.  I was so focused on my task that I ignored the mutters around me of how rude I was being, until the alert suddenly started getting louder and louder, practically screaming before I snapped out of my trance and stopped walking.

In front of me was a familiar set of broad shoulders, and just past him was a wall that I nearly ran us both into. “Conor, what are you doing?” I asked, started to see him seemingly just staring at a wall and humming away.

He turned toward me with a grin, dropping a kiss on the top of my head in greeting. “I didn’t realize that was you,” he answered. “I heard someone coming, but figured they would either turn or rather run into me than the wall.”

“And why are you staring at the wall?”

“Wasn’t staring,” he corrected. “I was working on this.” He stepped aside with a flourish, revealing one of the wall-tanks set up throughout the Ark for Else. Soft yellow motes drifted in the tank, evidence of Else’s continued breakneck evolution. However, this tank had something new in it…

“You put snowflakes in there?” I asked, confused.

He ran a hand through his hair and laughed. “When Sam, Derek, and I started putting out the Insert Winter Holiday decorations this week, Else got curious and asked what we were doing.  Derek explained - he talks to them better than I do - and they wanted something in their habitat, too, like we have.”

“And you decided on snowflakes?”

“Else picked that, actually. They are very curious about snow, since they developed… well, here, where there is no weather…”

“I guess that is fair.” Suddenly, I felt rude for talking about Else like they weren’t present. I still hadn’t gotten in the habit of speaking directly to them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you…” I cringed a little inside.

Is okay, Else replied. We are not offended. Will we see real snow one day?

I thought about it. “Probably? Von has atmosphere, and the nights are long enough that the temperature probably gets really cold. It may have the right conditions for snow.”

Many humans think snow is beautiful. We would like to see snow.

“You and me both, buddy,” I admitted. “I love it.”

Conor shuddered. “No thank you. You can keep your cold mush.” Checking his databand, he groaned. “I have to get going. See you later, Else.” He dropped another kiss on my head. “I’ll see you at dinner,” he promised.

“No bruises?”

“No bruises.”

I smiled before jumping to check the time myself. “Shit,” I swore softly. “Else, I gotta go, too. I have an appointment five minutes ago.”

Humans can time travel?

“I wish,” I muttered, practically running to get there on time. I prayed that Alistair kept Hannah busy while I raced to our interview.

I showed up breathless and dishevelled, but only ten minutes late. Great first impression you’re giving, I scolded myself as I tried to get my hair somewhat more tidy and catch my breath. Straightening, I scanned my datapad and entered my office.

Hannah was nodding seriously at something Alistair was saying, and all I could do was pray he wasn’t telling her some embarrassing story about me. Both of them looked up as I entered, and Hannah approached me to shake my hand. “Hello, Sophia! Or should I address you as Councillor. I’m not entirely sure…”

“Sophia is fine,” I reassured her.  “Did Alistair explain why I asked you to meet with me today?”

She shook her head. “No, we were just talking about Zachary’s work with Councilor Ranganathan.”

“That is part of it,” I agreed. “Zach is one of several people who Pranav is mentoring, hoping to build a pool of candidates to fill his position in the future. I asked you to meet with me to see if you would be interested in doing the same, with me?”

Her eyes widened. “You want me… to learn your job?”

“I assure you, it is much safer than I make it look.” I tried to sound confident, but was already bracing for her to reject the position.

“It’s not that - “ Wait, what? “I just. Do you really think I could?”

“You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think you could do it,” I assured her, somewhat dumbfounded. Recovering quickly, I pushed on. “I want to be clear - this is an elected position, so there is no guarantee that you would be my successor. The goal of the mentorship is to help you decide if you even want to do it, at all, along with ensuring that the Ark has the opportunity to choose between people who definitely know how to do the job. And more importantly, want to do the job.”

Alistair picked up from there. “In the Before, if you remember, many elections were decisions based on which candidate would do the least harm, rather than the most good. The Council is trying to change that.”

She nodded in understanding. “So there would be other people you are mentoring?”

So far, so good. “Hopefully three, yes.”

“Will you be working with us at the same time?”

“If all three of you accept, I am hoping to work with each of you one day per week individually, and the rest collectively,” I confirmed. “More specific than that, I will meet with all of you to explain once I know who has accepted. But I wanted to extend the offer in person, so I can answer any questions you may have.”

Hannah nodded again. “Would we be working the same hours you do?”

I was very glad Alistair and I already thought that part through, along with Tyche’s input. “Initially, no. You would only work half of my shift, and what half would be at my discretion.  However, this would be considered your job allotment, so you would not have to worry about any schedule conflicts. The only reason I will be deciding which half of my shift you work is because it may change due to Council meetings that you may not be privy to, or if there is nothing beneficial to your learning happening during the other half.”

“Why only half?” She asked.

“Councilors generally work double shifts,” Alistair advised her. When her eyes widened again, he continued, “In my experience, as her assistant, she will never ask you to work as much as she does, but she is very insistent that if she is not working, neither are you.”

I shook my head at him. “What he isn’t explaining is that there are also often large gaps in my day when I have no appointments and no paperwork to go through. So being in the office for sixteen to twenty hours sounds grueling, but I am rarely here the entire time.  That’s just the window when people are allowed to set appointments, or when the Council can convene outside of emergencies.”

Her shoulders sagged with relief. “I was honestly about to walk out until you explained that a bit better.”

I leaned over to Alistair and hissed. “People skills!”

“Professionalism…” he murmured back.

Hannah smiled at our antics. “Another question: What exactly do you do?”

I groaned, and Alistair smirked at me. Jokul had been so right on that point that it wasn’t even funny. “Since Zach is shadowing Pranav, I’m going to assume you know how the parts about voting in Council sessions works, right?” She nodded. “Okay, so that’s the big part that most people know about. They vote on an issue, their votes go to their representative Councilor, who votes on their behalf, short version. On a day to day basis, each Councilor is responsible for heading up everything on the Ark in a certain field. For me, that’s any large scale events, staffing, or major adjustments to how people are able to live their day-to-day lives. I have one assistant,” I gestured to Alistair, “and an Administrator, my sister Tyche.  She handles all of the small staffing concerns, because she is amazing at it.”

“So… Insert Winter Holiday, the annual Food festival…?”

I nodded. “Along with the gravity changes, the day cycle changes, the proximity alerts, creating and maintaining quiet rooms, finding people to back fill gaps caused by large projects or initiatives, large scale announcements to the ship, et cetera.”

“That’s… a lot…” She bit her bottom lip in concern.

“Really, it’s a handful of major events each year, plus the daily stuff.  And I work really closely with the other Councilors, largely because once most projects are past a staffing point, it falls under their jurisdiction to execute.”

Slowly, she nodded. “Okay…” After a moment, she nodded much more firmly. “Okay, I’ll try it.”

One down, two to go, I cheered in my head as I resisted the urge to scream with joy.

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[tosikoarts]

SFW Alphabet | Koito Otonoshin

WAP reference? In my SFW alphabet? More likely than you think. You can check tosikowrites tag for more. Warning: there’s a lot under the cut.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

First of all, everybody in the radius of two kilometers knows that Koito has fallen in love. He isn’t loud about it but it is written all over his smug face 24/7: when he starts daydreaming about them (which he does a lot), faint blush covers swarthy cheeks and his eyes fixate at the farthest point on the horizon. Tsukishima has to call three times before the Second Lieutenant finally notices his presence.

Okay, maybe, he is a little louder than was previously stated. Koito hasn’t had a lot of love experience so for him it is a bumpy road of trials and errors. Considering his behavior in front of First Lieutenant Tsurumi, easy to imagine how he awkwardly stutters in the crush’s presence, switching between native Satsuma dialect and classical Japanese. As they grow closer, nervousness dies down, and Koito finally talks like normal people do! Oh, he is such a show-off. However, he is a sweetheart as well so his talk comes across as a nice kid trying to be overly cool. Makes tons of compliments but can’t take any himself. No, he does. No, he doesn’t. Koito is a mess that thinks about small compliments for weeks. You say he looks nice with hair parted down the middle and this young man never goes back to his previous haircut.

It is serious when Koito starts rapturously venting to Tsukishima about them. At first, Otonoshin starts asking subtle questions not to seem too inexperienced. Then he asks for advice on how to dress, what to give as a present, how to act in general. If there are any problems in the relationship, Koito will 100% craw to his Sergeant for help.

One of the first and generally the main way of affection for Koito is giving pricy presents. Even when he is trying not to flex on wealth, it comes across as disguised bragging. Gifts given are always unique and of quality, so there is no reason to be indignant.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

His best friend has to be either someone from childhood or the Imperial Japanese Army Academy. Koito won’t befriend anyone in the actual military (except one exhausted Sergeant) since he has a fear of becoming a career trampoline.

Koito squanders the money on entertainment with no remorse and no shame. If he gets a new Western-style suit, his best friend will receive one in the mail too. On nights out Koito generously pays for the food and drinks, saying that they will pay next time but the next time never actually comes. There is some money in his bank account, why not spend it?

His best friend automatically becomes a part of his family and friend of Tsukishima. Koito doesn’t ask, he confidently states it. If they for some reason do not want to be close with the listed contingent, Koito faces cognitive dissonance and, notwithstanding, tries to improve relations between them.

Koito is not a stranger to gossiping and petty drama. He doesn’t get involved ever since his family has a status to maintain, but he knows what skeletons are hidden in the neighbors’ bedroom closet. His best friend hears the phrase “You won’t believe what I know” more often than “First Lieutenant is so amazing”. By the way, yes, Koito is still that fangirl and they have to deal with it.

Eh, you can’t rely on him in troubles, though. He will unapologetically push the blame on another person to stay an innocent good boy that was accidentally dragged in the mess, but he will make amends after the noise dies down.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He is so touchy-touchy-lovey-dowey, oh my god, just like you would expect from a touched-starved young man. Koito has no problems with PDA, he enjoys gazes fixed on him, so it is not uncommon to see him with the partner on the lap. Tsukishima learned to turn a blind eye and do some extra work to give the Second Lieutenant more time with his loved one. Koito prefers spooning to any other position so he can press them against his chest and fall asleep in their warmth. Sweetheart cradle is the second-best option but, honestly, Koito is down to anything that includes any of his limbs resting on their body.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Too young (especially in the mental sphere) to think about settling down. He is 20 years old or something, right? Koito doesn’t even know what he wants, what his principles are, what his life guidelines are, so no, there’s no way he thinks about settling down any time soon. Perhaps in 3-5-10 years, after his father knocks some sense into the guy, Koito will come to the conclusion that it's time for a new chapter in his life but definitely not now. Oh, also, he is useless in the household. He can’t cook, he can’t clean (and he can’t tell how he got this ring).

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

That doesn’t go well at all. Pangs of conscience do not give him the chance to pretend and delay the moment for too long but Koito can’t just say “yeah, that’s it” and walk away as nothing happened either. He chooses the most feckless option – cruelly distancing himself and making them lose interest in the relationship. Once the decision is made, there’s no going back. Koito's interest in his military career rises significantly and, suddenly, he is always busy disciplining juniors, taking additional trips wherever First Lieutenant sends him, surprising everybody with an overwhelming passion for small arms… Yeah, I’d say that boy sus.

If the time spent apart doesn’t kill their fire, Koito will go full mean mode and start acting like a literal jerk. It’s small comments that hurt the most: he finds them too loud or too quiet, too touchy or too cold, yadda yadda. Unreasonable ostentatious attacks of jealousy? Hell yes. His goal is to get on their nerves even if it means still small voice will whisper what a terrible person he is. Regrets the childish behavior months later but won’t admit it no matter what. Fights the desire to crawl back to them for a year or so.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

It's too early to talk about it. Again, he is standing on the doorstep of real-life and significant changes like getting married and starting a family are not even close to his vision of the future. Koito hesitates much and overthinks more so there is no point in waiting for a proposal in the first two years of a relationship. There are vulnerable moments when he doubts his own suitability for marriage. They may lead either to deep conversations with psychological aspects (remember the gnawing feeling of being a family failure?) or to abrupt distancing but in both cases, Koito pulls himself together and remembers: if such an amazing person chose him among another than he must be special.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

One of the few soldiers who were left damaged but not broken, so gentleness does not just smolder, but burns in Koito's heart. When it comes to being gentle, he is a physical manifestation of fondness: it beams from his eyes, radiates from his touch, and hides in his choice of the words. Someone may find it inconsistent, but brutality outside the battlefield, in any type of relationship, seems unnecessary to him as well. In a physical sense, Koito is quite remarkable in his raring, so his actions can come off a little sloppy, rushed, and aggressive.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Exciting hugs! Koito trembles from the top of his head to the tips of the toes when he gets a chance to hug his loved one even if it is the tenth time this day. Most often, he starts with a fast welcome kiss on the cheek before pulling them into the tight embrace: it is heartwarming but never the same, which makes a person wanting to come back for another dose of unconditional love. Koito is down to hug at any time of the day, of the week, of the month and, honestly, he sees it as one of the most gentle and innocent expressions of affection.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Blurts it out by accident after half of a year of stale dating. The delightful feeling of sentiment overwhelmed him to the point of blinding adoration so Koito couldn’t stop himself from an unexpected confession. With head resting on his hands and cheek muscles twitching from the continuous wide silly smiling, Koito just blurted out what came to his mind at the moment, realizing what that was a few seconds later. To avoid embarrassment at all costs, he played dumb even though everything was written on his face in bright red color. Whatever. Conscious confession isn’t that easy. He is full of love but translating it in an understandable voiced statement is freaking work.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Whether he is a witness to his loved one being a flirt or his loved being hit on, Koito is l i v i d. In the first case scenario, his ego is hurt so badly, he storms from the room to avoid throwing a tantrum right there on the spot. Any attempts to speak with him after what happened result in loud indisputable “don’t touch me” and silent treatment for a good week or so. The mere thought of being replaceable terrifies poor Koito, it forces him into unhealthy coping like acting demonstratively independent and detached to show them he can do it solo. We’ll pretend it is not a desperate tactic to punish them, ok ok. When his love is being hit on, Koito does not even assess the situation. He rushes to the partner to save the day, steps between them and another person, laughs it off, and asks his rival if there’s any problem. Usually, confrontation is pretty effective against unwelcome suitors. Thank god, because Koito wouldn’t want to get physical anyway.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Awwww, have you ever imagined yourself as a teacher? Too bad because as much as passionate he is, Koito is hopeless. Literally. Lack of experience affects his (non-existing) technique. Couldn’t figure out he had to open his lips for a French kiss, leave alone any abstruse tricks, and knowledge of more sensitive spots to pay attention to. All preferences in the form of instructions have to be said aloud: Koito may act like he doesn’t need them, he is so cool and mature, and only losers need to be guided, but in reality, the opposite is true. Thanks to the above-mentioned features, his favorite kisses vary from pecks on the cheek to thigh and hand kisses but they never include kisses on the lips. If the partner is the same height or taller, he prefers to be kissed on the temple and top of his head. In other cases, doesn’t have any preferences.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

There are times when you have to do what you have absolutely no idea how to do, and it perfectly describes Koito’s relationships with kids. Somehow, they are on the same level but at different poles: he would rather cry because of how annoying capricious baby is than find any way to calm them down. Changing a dirty diaper is a challenge like no other, and going to the continent for a little girl protected by the company of bloodthirsty, armed to the teeth veterans sounds a lot easier (and not so disgusting) than babysitting a single baby. Older children are fine if they know how to keep themselves occupied and out of the sight. On his watch, there is always a small chance that the house will catch fire or the most active child will break their arm. Requires obligatory supervision of a more experienced babysitter.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

No one is leaving the bed in the morning. Sleeping in is inevitable. Do not plan anything for the first part of the day because if Koito chooses to devote the weekends to the lovely company of his partner that means he will squeeze every single second spent together out of it. It doesn’t matter what they do in the bed, like cuddling, talking, doing something spicy (youtube censorship much?) as long as they remain under a warm blanket. Koito giggles a lot catching their soft gaze on his lips, tickles them when silence falls. If the couple stays in the family house, servants are ordered to prepare the tastiest breakfast with gourmet chai tea as well as to find possible entertainment for the day.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

The end of the day is the last opportunity to let off steam before getting into a slower pace, and, finally, going to bed. To no surprise, Koito prefers activities aimed at the work of muscles and not of brains. Nothing too extreme though. Horseback riding is a common pastime if they are not in the mood for anything else. In other cases, Koito offers to play cricket in the summertime and go ice-skating in winter but his all-time favorite is swimming in sun-warmed waters of a crystal clear river. Despite the cold underwater currents winding around the ankles, Koito can swim in circles for hours without letting his loved one go ashore. If they are up for a challenge, competitions for who can hold their breath longer and swim to the other side faster are always a choice.  

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

As soon as they let Koito know that they are interested (doesn’t matter in him personally or in him speaking), the dam breaks. He is ready to talk about anything, from how the day was to the meaning of life, the role of the monarchy in the future of Japan, and what influence Heinojou’s death had on him. So to say, Koito sees no problem in opening up early in the relationship. There are no forbidden topics in his mind except, maybe, what is so below the beltline: starting any intimate conversation reduces Koito to a red stammering (in Satsuma dialect of course) mess. It gets better with time.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Chill enough? Not in the Tsukishima’s sense of “I have seen too much shit in my life so I am no longer surprised by anything and I expect nothing as well” but in a cheery and optimistic outlook. If he breaks a plate or cup, it is a reason to buy a new one, not to throw a tantrum on how Japan no longer makes quality dishes. How boring life would be without nuisances, huh? However, Koito immediately blows off when it comes to serious matters like life-threatening situations. Overall? Absolute ray of sunshine, anger is unnecessary, keep calm and take it easy.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Remembers nothing but anniversaries’ dates. Seriously. Don’t expect Koito to compliment your eyes’ color, he doesn’t remember it. Favorite food or place? Did you mention them at all? Hm. Blame it on the charm of the moment that hypnotized Koito and sent him into oblivion. He doesn't bother himself with writing down any facts and details and is visibly surprised if the partner expresses frustration with his forgetfulness.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Perhaps it will be a surprise but the most memorable moment for Koito would be doing “bad stuff” together. As for a person, who has not yet emerged from cheerful adolescence, drinking, smoking cigarettes, and, who would have thought, opium together leaves a weird feeling of agitation and gaiety. Hiding with the partner in crime, bottle covered under the lieutenant's coat as if he is some kind of thief, is something Koito won’t ever get used to. He drinks and mumbles gibberish then pulls his loved one closer for some sloppy smooches that never work out: someone keeps missing lips and laughing like a goofball after every failure.

Smoking opium, which happened exactly one time, was the complete opposite of previous experience. They ended up in semi-darkness in a distant room with artfully painted paraphernalia and one carved pipe that was passed back and forth for the whole night. An intoxicating sense of calm and emptiness hit Koito in the head as he was watching his loved one fusing with the thin lilac smoke: a situation they were in was too bizarre to be real but magical too so he had no right to complain. Memories of that night stayed with him for the whole life but Koito never had a desire to go for a smoke again.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

For the sake of justice, Koito has a protective side, but the carefree character often overshadows it. He meets dangerous situations in conditions where one large group of opponents confront another so everyone covers each other's back. When Koito has to fight one on one he can fully rely on the own strength and reactions but when there is someone to protect things get messy really fast.

Koito is ready to cover them with his body to save from a whistling bullet but this thought comes from a place of “I can’t come up with a plan what do I do what do I do” and not from rational thinking or self-devotion in the name of love. Nah, boy just no thoughts, head empty but HEART FULL.

Would want to be protected as well? He has no problem being viewed as one who needs help. Won’t want them to act recklessly though, exchanging their life for his isn’t fair a bit.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Youthful maximalism and all-encompassing love push Koito to new feats every day: he racks his head over which place to choose for a date, should he buy them expensive things or no because what if they look at him as at tasteless braggart, maybe, he should have not brought a bouquet today, maybe, he is too annoying… At the beginning of the relationship, he is excessively enthusiastic and scarred to mess everything at the same time. Often this mixture leads to an awkward situation but with some guidance, Koito calms down and begins to feel a partner on an intuitive level. Anniversaries will still be celebrated on a grand scale though. He has literally no chill when told to make that one day special. Lacks consistency when it comes to everyday tasks: either puts all of his effort in building a stool or does nothing the whole day.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

The bloated ego doesn’t seem a big problem at first but it keeps popping up now and then in the conversation and overall behavior. Again, it is not even close to megalomaniac extend but can be pretty annoying when Koito keeps putting himself in every story and boasting with every minor achievement.

Not the most independent, kinda clingy guy that needs somebody that he can always rely on. We have already seen Tsukishima's fate and this is what awaits for the person who decides to tie the knot with him.

LOUD. SO LOUD. DEAFENING! If you think Koito would lower the voice down or, for the frick’s sake, stop screeching but no! Excited? Yell! Scarred? Yell! Surprised? Yell! I can see him screaming louder than his newborn baby shocking midwives in the maternity hospital. Pray to God that it is not inherited.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not to call him obsessed, but Koito takes good care of himself and tries to be attractive in the eyes of others. He may spend a little bit too much time staring in the mirror during the mourning routine, brushing hair locks just the exact way he wants them to be. Several creams are lying in the drawer of his nightstand and Koito replenishes its stock with enviable regularity. Of course, he looks sharp: when circumstances do not oblige Second Lieutenant to strict dress code, he pulls off well-tailored looks, both traditional Japanese and Westernized ones. Just imagine him dressed to kill, wearing an all-leather long car coat with skintight gloves. Koito is too powerful in his handsomeness.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Has zero knowledge of how to handle break-up and that pretty much describes what a hell ride it will be for Koito. Obviously, the violent reaction is accompanied by complete confusion, he is at a loss for words and can’t find the right ones even in the Satsuma dialect. Well, if he had a gut feeling that they are planning on leaving later or sooner, Koito would lash out at them in the worst way possible: every wrongdoing suddenly transforms into hidden signs confirming that he was not loved at all, never ever. He makes a loud scene with eyes brimming, screams whatever nonsense comes to mind to stop them from speaking further. No explanation can overpower his growing resentment. If break-up comes up out of a blue, Koito remains silent, listening to whatever they have to say. None of the words makes any sense to him and there is nothing he can tell or ask. Nothing makes sense. He sighs while rubbing his temples, eyes shut tight to separate from the world as much as possible, and turn down the white noise coming out of their mouth. Koito leaves without saying a word with a plan to avoid them in the next few weeks.

In the case of their death, Koito is in no hurry at breakneck speed to take revenge but that definitely doesn’t mean he is indifferent. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and even such a hothead as angered Koito is can wait for a better moment to strike.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Since Koito joined the army, celebrations turned from long-awaited days into in minor verbal congratulations aaaand that’s all. The atmosphere is just not the same. In the beginning, he tried to keep head up but general disinterest killed his vibes and left him bitter.

The only person who does not mind supporting the Second Lieutenant is Tsukishima: he gladly watches Koito happily screaming as he launches a colorful kite into the air, joins playing hanetsuki and sugoroku on Japanese New Year, once he even gave Koito pochibukuro as a joke. Otonoshin was merry and embarrassed at the same time since, you know, pochibukuro is given to kids, not adult men who shoot people for a living.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Mysterious silent people aren’t the company Koito can tolerate. He hadn’t had a good experience with Ogata back in the 7th Division and doesn’t see himself with anyone hiding behind a duplicitous smile.

Scolding Koito for his frivolity won’t do anything good, quite the contrary, it will force him into acting withdrawn in their presence. Attempts to change Koito are pointless since action generates opposition: the more he is told to be a serious man, the more infantile he will become.

By the way, it is important for Koito to see a class in his surrounding. He himself carries an elusive aesthetic so lack of taste and sense of beauty is a bummer. Good thing they can be acquired just like other skills.

Comparison. Do not compare Koito to anyone, ever. His father probably did it a lot back in the days when talking about Heinojou’s success so Otonoshin became allergic to any “you are just like/you act like/you look like/wish you were like” comments.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

The most normal person in the 7th Division when it comes to sleeping. There’s literally nothing to describe: Koito falls asleep fast, he doesn’t have any problems with falling asleep or waking up, doesn’t use any medication, doesn’t have any evening rituals. Dreams are a rarity. Loves to sleep with someone by the side, so he can hug a person from behind with both arm and leg, and if the place next to him is cold and empty, Koito may hug a pillow or rolled blanket.

[thewatsonbeekeepers]

Chapter 4 – It is always 1895 [TAB 1/1]

TAB is my favourite episode of Sherlock. It is a masterpiece that investigates queerness, the canon and the psyche all within an hour and a half. Huge amounts of work has been done on this episode, however, so I’m not going to do a line by line breakdown – that could fill a small book. A great starting point for understanding the myriad of references in TAB is Rebekah’s three part video series on the episode, of which the first instalment can be found here X. I broadly agree with this analysis; what I’m going to do here, though, is place that analysis within the framework of EMP theory. As a result, as much as it pains me, this chapter won’t give a breakdown of carnation wallpaper or glass houses or any of those quietly woven references – we’re simply going in to how it plays into EMP theory.

Before digging into the episode, I want to take a brief diversion to talk about one of my favourite films, Mulholland Drive (2001).

If you haven’t seen Mulholland Drive, I really recommend it – it’s often cited as the best film of the last 20 years, and watching it really helps to see where TAB came from and the genre it’s operating in. David Lynch is one of the only directors to do the dream-exploration-of-the-psyche well, and I maintain that a lot of the fuckiness in the fourth series draws on Lynch. However, what I actually want to point out about Mulholland Drive is the structure of it, because I think it will help us understand TAB a little better. [If you don’t want spoilers for Mulholland Drive, skip the next paragraph.]

The similarities between these two are pretty straightforward; the most common reading of Mulholland Drive is that an actress commits suicide by overdose after causing the death of her ex-girlfriend, who has left her for a man, and that the first two-thirds of the film are her dream of an alternate scenario in which her girlfriend is saved. The last third of the film zooms in and out of ‘real life’, but at the end we see a surreal version of the actual overdose which suggests that this ‘real life’, too, has just been in her psyche. Sherlock dying and recognising that this may kill John is an integral part of TAB, and the relationships have clear parallels, but what is most interesting here is the structural similarity; two-thirds of the way through TAB, give or take, we have the jolt into reality, zoom in and out of it for a while and then have a fucky scene to finish with that suggests that everything is, in fact, still in our dying protagonist’s brain. Mulholland Drive’s ending is a lot sadder than TAB’s – the fact that, unlike Sherlock, there is no sequel can lead us to assume that Diane dies – and it’s also a lot more confusing; it’s often cited as one of the most complicated films ever made even just in terms of surface level plot, before getting into anything else, and it certainly took me a huge amount of time on Google before I could approach anything like a resolution on it!

Mulholland Drive is the defining film in terms of the navigating-the-surreal-psyche subgenre, and so the structural parallels between the two are significant – and definitely point to the idea that Sherlock hasn’t woken up at the end of TAB, which is important. But we don’t need to take this parallel as evidence; there’s plenty of that in the episode itself. Let’s jump in.

Emelia as Eurus

When we first meet Eurus in TST, she calls herself E; this initialism is a link to Moriarty, but it’s also a convenient link to other ‘E’ names. Lots of people have already commented on the aural echo of ‘Eros’ in ‘Eurus’, which is undeniable; the idea that there is something sexual hidden inside her name chimes beautifully with her representation of a sexual repression. The other important character to begin with E, however, is Emelia Ricoletti. The name ‘Emelia’ doesn’t come from ACD canon, and it’s an unorthodox spelling (Amelia would be far more common), suggesting that starting with an ‘E’ is a considered choice.

When TAB aired, we were preoccupied with Emelia as a Sherlock mirror, and it’s easy to see why; the visual parallels (curly black hair, pale skin) plus the parallel faked death down to the replacement body, which Mofftiss explicitly acknowledge in the episode. However, I don’t think that this reading is complete; rather, she foreshadows the Eurus that we meet in s4. The theme of ghosts links TAB with s4 very cleanly; TAB is about Emelia, but there is also a suggestion of the ghosts of one’s past with Sir Eustace as well as Sherlock’s own claims (‘the shadows that define our every sunny day’). Compare this to s4 – ‘ghosts from the past’ appears on pretty much every promotional blurb, and the word is used several times in relation to Eurus. If Eurus is the ghost from Sherlock’s past, the repressive part of his psyche that keeps popping back, Emelia is a lovely metaphor for this; she is quite literally the ghost version of Sherlock who won’t die.

What does it mean, then, when Jim and Emelia become one and the same in the scene where Jim wears the bride’s dress? We initially read this as Jim being the foil to Sherlock, his dark side, but I think it’s more complicated than this. Sherlock’s brain is using Emelia as a means of understanding Jim, but when we watch the episode it seems that they’ve actually merged. Jim wearing the veil of the bride is a good example of this, but I also invite you to rewatch the moment when John is spooked by the bride the night that Eustace dies; the do not forget me song has an undeniable South Dublin accent.* This is quite possibly Yasmine Akram [Janine] rather than Andrew Scott, of course, but let’s not forget that these characters are resolutely similar, and hearing Jim’s accent in a genderless whisper is a pretty clear way of inflecting him into the image of the bride. In addition to this, Eustace then has ‘Miss Me?’ written on his corpse, cementing the link to Moriarty.

[*the South Dublin accent is my accent, so although we hear a half-whispered song for all of five seconds, I’m pretty certain about this]

Jim’s merging with Emelia calls to mind for me what I think might be the most important visual of all of series 4 – Eurus and Jim’s Christmas meeting, where they dance in circles with the glass between them and seem to merge into each other. I do talk about this in a later chapter, but TLDR – if Jim represents John being in danger and Eurus represents decades of repressed gay trauma, this merging is what draws the trauma to the surface just as Jim’s help is what suddenly makes Eurus a problem. It is John’s being in danger which makes Sherlock’s trauma suddenly spike and rise – he has to confront this for the first time – just like Emelia Ricoletti’s case from 1895 only needs solving for the first time now that Jim is back.

At some point I want to do a drag in Sherlock meta, because I think there’s a lot more to it than meets the eye, but Jim in a bride’s dress does draw one obvious drag parallel for me.

If you haven’t seen the music video for I Want to Break Free, it’s 3 minutes long and glorious – and also, I think, reaps dividends when seen in terms of Sherlock. You can watch it here: X

Not only is it a great video, but for British people of Mofftiss’s age, it’s culturally iconic and not something that would be forgotten when choosing that song for Jim. Queen were intending to lampoon Coronation Street, a British soap, and already on the wrong side of America for Freddie Mercury’s unapologetic queerness, found themselves under fire from the American censors. Brian May says that no matter how many times he tried to explain Coronation Street to the Americans, they just didn’t get it. This was huge controversy at the time, but the video and the controversy around it also managed to cement I Want to Break Free as Queen’s most iconic queer number – despite not even being one of Mercury’s songs. There is no way that Steven Moffat, and even more so Mark Gatiss would not have an awareness of this in choosing this song for Moriarty. Applying any visual to this song is going to invite comparisons to the video – and inflecting a sense of drag here is far from inappropriate. Moriarty has been subsumed into Eurus in Sherlock’s brain – the male and the female are fused into an androgynous and implicitly therefore all-encompassing being. I’m not necessarily comfortable with the gendered aspect of this – genderbending is something we really only see in our villains here – but given this is about queer trauma, deliberately queering its form in this way is making what we’re seeing much more explicit.

Nothing new under the sun

“The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun” (Ecclesiastes)

"Read it up -- you really should. There is nothing new under the sun. It has all been done before." (A Study in Scarlet, Sherlock Holmes)

“Hasn’t this all happened before? There’s nothing new under the sun.” (The Abominable Bride, Jim Moriarty)

This is arguably the key to spotting that TAB is a dream long before they tell us – when TAB’s case is early revealed to be a mixture between TRF (Emelia’s suicide) and TGG (the five pips), and we see the opening of ASiP repeated, we should be questioning what on earth is going on. This can also help us to recognise s4 as being EMP as well though – old motifs from the previous series keep repeating through the cases, like alarm bells ringing. Moriarty telling Sherlock that there is nothing new under the sun is his key to understanding that the Emelia case is meant to help him understand what happened to Jim, that it’s a mental allegory or mirror to help him parse it. This doesn’t go away when TAB ends! Moving into TST, one of the striking things is that cases are still repeating! The Six Thatchers appeared on John’s blog way back, before the fall – you can read it here: X. It’s about a gay love affair that ends in one participant killing the other. Take from that what you will, when John’s extramarital affection is making him suicidal and Sherlock comatose. Meanwhile, the title of The Final Problem refers to the story that was already covered in TRF and the phone situation with the girl on the plane references both ASiB and TGG, and the ending of TST is close to a rerun of HLV. It’s pretty much impossible to escape echoes of previous series in a way that is almost creepy, but we’ve already had this explained to us in TAB – none of this is real. It’s supposed to be explaining what is happening in the real world – and Mofftiss realised that this was going to be difficult to stomach, and so they included TAB as a kind of key to the rest of the EMP, which becomes much more complex.

However, if we want to go deeper we should look at where that quote comes from. I’ve given a few epigraphs to this section to show where the quote comes from – first the book of Ecclesiastes, then A Study in Scarlet. It’s one of the first things Holmes says and it is during his first deduction in Lauriston Gardens. This is where I’m going to dive pretty deep into the metatextual side of things, so bear with the weirdness.

[we’re going deeper]

Holmes’s first deduction from A Study in Scarlet shows that he’s no great innovator – he simply notices things and spots patterns from things he has seen before. This is highlighted by the fact that he even makes this claim by quoting someone before him. If our Sherlock also makes deductions based on patterns from the past, extensive dream sequences where he works through past cases as mirrors for present ones makes perfect sense and draws very cleverly on canon. However, I think his spotting of patterns goes deeper than that. Sherlock Holmes has been repressed since the publication of A Study in Scarlet, through countless adaptations in literature and film. Plenty of these adaptations as well as the original stories are referenced in the EMP, not least by going back to 1895, the year that symbolises the era in which most of these adaptations are set. (If you don’t already know it, check out the poem 221B by Vincent Starrett, one of the myriad of reasons why the year 1895 is so significant.) My feeling is that these adaptations, which have layered on top of each other in the public consciousness to cement the image of Sherlock Holmes the deductive machine [which he’s not, sorry Conan Doyle estate] come to symbolise the 100+ years of repression that Sherlock himself has to fight through to come out of the EMP as his queer self.

This is one of the reasons that the year 1895 is so important; it was the year of Oscar Wilde’s trial and imprisonment for gross indecency, and this is clearly a preoccupation of Sherlock’s consciousness in TFP with its constant Wilde references, suggesting that his MP’s choice of 1895 wasn’t coincidental. Much was made during TAB setlock of a newspaper that said ‘Heimish The Ideal Husband’, Hamish being John’s middle name and An Ideal Husband being one of Wilde’s plays. But the Vincent Starrett poem, although nostalgic and ostensibly lovely, for tjlcers and it seems for Sherlock himself symbolises something much more troubling. Do search up the full poem, but for now let’s look at the final couplet.

Here, though the world explode, these two survive

And it is always 1895

‘Though the world explode’ is a reference to WW1, which is coming in the final Sherlock Holmes story, and which is symbolised by Eurus – in other chapters, I explain why Eurus and WW1 are united under the concept of ‘winds of change’ in this show. Sherlock and John survive the winds of change – except they don’t move with them. Instead, they stay stuck in 1895, the year of ultimate repression. 2014!Sherlock going back in his head to 1895 and repeating how he met John suggests exactly that, that nothing has changed but the superficial, and that emotionally, he is still stuck in 1895.

Others have pulled out similar references to Holmes adaptations he has to push through in TAB – look at the way he talks in sign language to Wilder, which can only be a reference to Billy Wilder, director of TPLoSH, the only queer Holmes film, and a film which was forced to speak through coding because of the Conan Doyle estate. That film is also referenced by Eurus giving Sherlock a Stradivarius, which is a gift given to him in TPLoSH in exchange for feigning heterosexuality. Eurus is coded as Sherlock’s repression, and citing a repressive moment in a queer film as her first action when she meets Sherlock is another engagement by Sherlock’s psyche with his own cinematic history. My favourite metatextual moment of this nature, however, is the final scene of TFP which sees John and Sherlock running out of a building called Rathbone Place.

Basil Rathbone is one of the most iconic Sherlock Holmes actors on film, and Benedict’s costume in TAB and in particular the big overcoat look are very reminiscent of Rathbone.

Others have discussed (X) how the Victorian costume and the continued use of the deerstalker in the present day are images of Sherlock’s public façade and exclusion of queerness from his identity. It’s true that pretty much every Holmes adaptation has used the deerstalker, but the strong Rathbone vibes that come from Ben’s TAB costume ties the 1895 vibe very strongly into Rathbone. To have the final scene – and hopefully exit from the EMP – tie in with Sherlock and John running out of Rathbone Place tells us that, just as Sherlock cast off the deerstalker at the end of TAB (!), he has also cast off the iconic filmic Holmes persona which has never been true to his actual identity.

Waterfall scene

The symbol of water runs through TAB as well as s4 – others have written fantastic meta on why water represents Sherlock’s subconscious (X), but I want to give a brief outline. It first appears with the word ‘deeper’ which keeps reappearing, which then reaches a climax in the waterfall scene. The idea that Sherlock could drown in the waters of his mind is something that Moriarty explicitly references, suggesting that Sherlock could be ‘buried in his own Mind Palace’. The ‘deep waters’ line keeps repeating through series 4, and I just want to give the notorious promo photo from s4 which confirms the significance of the motif.

This is purely symbolic – it never happens in the show. Water increases in significance throughout – think of Sherlock thinking he’s going mad in his mind as he is suspended over the Thames, or the utterly nonsensical placement of Sherrinford in the middle of the ocean – the deepest waters of Sherlock’s mind. Much like the repetition of cases hinting that EMP continues, the use of water is something that appears in the MP, and it sticks around from TAB onwards, a real sign that we’re going deeper and deeper. I talk about this more in the bit on TFP, but the good news is that Sherrinford is the most remote place they could find in the ocean – that’s the deepest we’re going. After that, we’re coming out (of the mind).

Shortly after TAB aired, I wrote a meta about the waterfall scene, some of which I now disagree with, but the core framework still stands – it did not, of course, bank on EMP theory. You can find it here (X), but I want to reiterate the basic framework, because it still makes a lot of sense. Jim represents the fear of John’s suicide, and Jim can only be defeated by Sherlock and John together, not one alone – and crucially, calling each other by first names, which would have been very intimate in the Victorian era. After Jim is “killed”, we have Sherlock’s fall. The concept of a fall (as in IOU a fall) has long been linked with falling in love in tjlc. Sherlock tells John that it’s not the fall that kills you, it’s the landing, something that Jim has been suggesting to him for a while. What is the landing, then? Well, Sherlock Holmes fell in love back in the Victorian era, symbolised by the ultra repressive 1895, and that’s where he jumps from – but he lands in the 21st century. Falling in love won’t kill him in the modern day. What I missed that time around, of course, was that despite breaking through the initial Victorian layers of repression, he still dives into more water, and when the plane lands, it still lands in his MP, just in a mental state where the punishment his psyche deals him for homosexuality is less severe. This also sets up s4 as specifically dealing with the problem of the fall – Sherlock jumps to the 21st century specifically to deal with the consequences of his romantic and sexual feelings. There’s a parallel here with Mofftiss time jumping; back when they made A Study in Twink in 2009, there was a reason they made the time jump. Having Sherlock’s psyche have that touch of self-awareness helps to illustrate why they made a similar jump, also dealing with the weight of previous adaptations.

Women

I preface this by saying how incredibly uncomfortable I find the positioning of women as the KKK in TAB. It’s a parallel which is unforgivable; frankly, invoking the KKK without interrogating the whiteness of the show or even mentioning race is unacceptable. Steven Moffat’s ability to write women has consistently been proven to be nil, but this is a new low. However, the presence of women in TAB is vital, so on we go.

TAB specifically deals with the question of those excluded from a Victorian narrative. This is specifically tied into to those who are excluded from the stories, such as Jane and Mrs. Hudson. Mrs. Hudson’s complaint is in the same scene as John telling her and Sherlock to blame the problems on the illustrator. This ties back to the deerstalker metaphor which is so prevalent in this episode; something that’s not in the stories at all, but a façade by which Holmes is universally recognised and which as previously referenced masks his queerness. Women, then, are not the only people being excluded from the narrative. When Mycroft tells us that the women have to win, he’s also talking about queer people. This is a war that we must lose.

I don’t think the importance of Molly in particular here has been mentioned before, but forgive me if I’m retreading old ground. However, Molly always has importance in Sherlock as a John mirror, and just because she is dressed as a man here doesn’t mean we should disregard this. If anything, her ridiculous moustache is as silly as John’s here! Molly, although really a member of the resistance, is able to pass in the world she moves in in 1895, but only by masking her own identity. This is exactly what happens to John in the Victorian era – as a bisexual man married to a woman, he is able to pass, but it is not his true identity. More than that, Molly is a member of the resistance, suggesting not just that John is queer but that he’s aware of it and actively looking for it to change.

I know I was joking about Molly and John’s moustaches, but putting such a silly moustache on Molly links to the silliness of John’s moustaches, which only appear when he’s engaged to a woman and in the Victorian era. He has also grown the moustache just so the illustrator will recognise him, and Molly has grown her moustache so that she will be recognised as a man. In this case, Molly is here to demonstrate the fact that John is passing, but only ever passing. Furthermore, Molly, who is normally the kindest person in the whole show, is bitter and angry throughout TAB – it’s not difficult to see then how hiding one’s identity can affect one’s mental health. I really do think that John is a lot more abrasive in TAB than he is in the rest of the show, but that’s not the whole story. Showing how repression can completely impair one’s personality also points to the suicidal impulses that are lurking just out of sight throughout TAB – this is what Sherlock is terrified of, and again his brain is warning him just what it is that is causing John this much pain and uncharacteristic distress.

This is just about the loosest sketch of TAB that could exist! But TAB meta has been so extensive that going over it seems futile, or else too grand a project within a short chapter. Certain theories are still formulating, and may appear at a later date! But what this chapter (I hope) has achieved has set up the patterns that we’re going to see play out in s4 – between the metatextuality, the waters of the mind and the role of Moriarty in the psyche, we can use TAB as a key with which to read s4. I like to think of it as a gift from Mofftiss, knowing just how cryptic s4 would be – and these are the basic clues with which to solve it.

That’s it for TAB, at least in this series – next up we’re going ever deeper, to find out exactly who is Eurus. See you then?

[outbythehighwind]

The Misconceptions of FF7: A Cloud, Aerith & Tifa Analysis Part 3/5

Link to all parts: https://outbythehighwind.tumblr.com/post/640347336477966336/the-misconceptions-of-ff7-a-cloud-aerith-tifa

This post will examine the kind of love that Cloud has for Tifa.

I determined last post that his love for Aerith is that of a true and powerful friendship, but can, in interpretation of the narrative (which, unlike plot, is up for player interpretation), additionally be romantic. Regardless of the interpretation, it does not change the plot – that Cloud is romantically in love with Tifa. My emphasis from the prior post is that friendship, along with Eros (romantic love), is one of the highest forms of love, and its meaning & significance has sadly been lost in the world today. So I once again urge that people forsake this notion of ‘competition’ that one girl must win ‘all’ of Cloud’s affections (which is a betrayal to his character, for not all love need be Eros), and that at the expense of ‘winning’, his relationship with the other is belittled. With that in mind, let us proceed to part 3.

Cloud’s Eros love, in the plot sense of FF7, is Tifa.

“The event of falling in love is of such a nature that we are right to reject as intolerable the idea that it should be transitory. In one high bound it has overleaped the massive wall of our selfhood; it has made appetite itself altruistic, tossed personal happiness aside as a triviality and planted the interests of another in the centre of our being.” – C.S. Lewis (on Eros)

I have already established that Tifa is Cloud’s driving force. The weakness he attributes to himself resulted from his inability to save her at age 9 when they fell off Mt. Nibel’s bridge. His desire for strength came from his desire to be able to protect her, and coupled with his “sealed up secret wish” to win her acknowledgement, 14-year-old Cloud left to join SOLDIER.

The depth of Cloud’s feelings toward Tifa (whatever they may be at this stage) is emphasized in the circumstances: that they were not close and yet at 9 years old he had such strong desire to protect her; that over the next five years – despite their minimal interaction – he fervently held that conviction; and that the conviction grew to the point where, the moment he heard of Sephiroth’s strength (a way for him to act on it), he left to join SOLDIER.

A common misperception is that Cloud only wanted general acknowledgement – from Tifa and the other kids and villagers. He did want general acknowledgement, yes. But let us consider the Lifestream revelation summarized in the 12 screenshots below.

When Tifa asks Cloud why he joined SOLDIER, a dialogue occurs between the Cloud she is speaking to and his inner voice in the white text (his true self that they are presently trying to reach). Note that Cloud’s inner voice only ever speaks to Cloud; nobody else can hear it. Here, ‘real’ Cloud (the voice) says to “Ex-SOLDIER” Cloud – ie. Cloud from his inner subconscious says to himself – with both emphasis and exclusivity – “Who? You know who! …You, that’s who.”

“Ex-SOLDIER” Cloud then repeats aloud, “You…” to Tifa.

The context is of the singular person pronoun, in elaboration of Cloud’s statement “someone would notice.”

“You” is exclusively Tifa.

When Tifa is surprised and exclaims why her, Cloud brings up a time in their childhood that she does not recall right away – which he will reveal to be the Mt Nibel bridge incident. Immediately before showing her that memory, ‘little’ Cloud appears (the other manifestation of Cloud’s true self, as I noted earlier). ‘Little’ Cloud invites Tifa into this memory when Tifa engages with “Ex-SOLDIER” Cloud again, who reveals a “A sealed up secret… wish… Tender memories no one can ever know.” This wish is his answer to Tifa’s “Me? Why!?”

Cloud still holding this desire at present is evidenced in that it is “Ex-SOLDIER” Cloud – rather than ‘little’ Cloud – who states this. ‘Little’ Cloud is able to engage with Tifa. Were it his sealed up secret wish alone – something Cloud had only once desired – then he (‘little’ Cloud), not “Ex-SOLDIER” Cloud, would have been the one to tell her.

We are then taken to the specific memory of the day Tifa’s mother died and the accident on the Mt. Nibel bridge; the moment Cloud began his obsession with gaining strength in order for that sealed up secret wish to be realized (as he saw it).

I’ve already discussed his feelings of weakness and failure with regard to protecting Tifa. So I will just point out the last screenshot below in light of the sequence before it, where he says “Then even Tifa would have to notice me…”

Tifa being singled out as the “Who” he wanted to be noticed by has already been confirmed. This statement does not alter that exclusivity. Rather, it is Cloud’s affirmation to himself that his goal will be realized through the means of ‘strength’; if he becomes ‘strong’ then he will be acknowledged by others, he will be worthy – and surely then, even Tifa would have to notice him.

Cloud promised to be Tifa’s personal “hero”. What he has already resolved to strive for becomes a binding, personal promise between them – having resulted from, to his surprise, Tifa’s suggestion. This promise is both the heart of the entire internal plot (saving Cloud) and what brings Cloud and Tifa into the external plot (saving the Planet).

“Hero” to Cloud is synonymous with “SOLDIER”. “Ex-SOLDIER” Cloud therefore feels enabled to keep the promise, and joins AVALANCHE (and the fight for the Planet) with the sole primary purpose, as it had always been, of protecting Tifa.

Even while Cloud’s ‘real’ self is trapped in his subconscious and his memory is muddled, Tifa’s uniquely distinct importance to him is enforced throughout “Ex-SOLDIER’s” journey. Alongside this is the emphasis of his reliance on her – that Cloud, striving to be strong for Tifa, sees Tifa as his source of strength.

He hopes in himself because Tifa knew him.

He trusts only Tifa in what is true pertaining to himself.

It is when Sephiroth breaks through the trust between them that Cloud’s entire identity shatters (both “Ex-SOLDIER” Cloud and ‘real’ Cloud are lost). Sephiroth plays to Tifa’s confusion surrounding Cloud’s identity and her doubt in her own memories that do not align with Cloud’s. It is when she cannot give Cloud an answer that Sephiroth is able to convince Cloud of the lie that he is not the “Cloud of Nibelheim” she grew up with – synonymous with him not being Cloud the being at all.

Sephiroth, whilst successfully manipulating Cloud, is still threatened by their bond. He keeps an illusion over Cloud where Cloud cannot hear Tifa’s voice as she screams for him to not hand over the Black Materia. Later, Cloud will hear her voice above the cries of all souls within the Lifestream.

In the Lifestream, Cloud and Tifa cry out to one another simultaneously and Cloud draws her into his subconscious. This is revealed in both versions of their night under the Highwind, and is thus an emphasized plot matter – the big difference being that in the low affection version (see the red textboxes below) Cloud is thinking out loud rather than speaking directly to Tifa.

The English translation is vague in the fourth screenshot (“I think I’ve heard about it too”) – the Japanese being 俺も、聞いたような気がするな (which literally translates to “I feel like I heard it too”). “It” is referring to Tifa’s voice outlaid the fifth screen – “At that time, it was Tifa’s voice…” (あの時、TIFAの声を). Cloud chooses to introspect rather than engage directly with Tifa.

In the high affection version, the same term is used: he says to her that it was her voice (TIFAの声が) calling him from “the sea of consciousness in the Lifestream” (ライフストリームの意識の海から). The English translates this as: “You were calling me back from the consciousness in the Lifestream”, which, in both high and low affection alternatives, refers to all souls within the Lifestream (for Tifa quotes that her and Cloud were “surrounded by all those screams of anguish” when they were separated in their fall).

The point I wish to get across is this: that in both versions, Cloud’s subconscious cries out for Tifa and simultaneously hears her crying out for him amidst every scream from those returned to the Lifestream. We see this scene play out not as Cloud, but as Tifa, and the black void emphasizes their complete separation. Yet Cloud, in comatose state, unable to communicate physically at all, manages to draw her into his very subconscious.

Now here is the thing most players miss:

Aerith – as Cloud knows for certain – is also in the Lifestream, and having maintained her full consciousness rather than merging with the Lifestream like all these other souls crying out, would be capable of reaching both Cloud and Tifa more easily than they can reach each other.

Is she aware of their situation? Undoubtedly, she would have been watching over them throughout their entire journey since her passing. Does she somehow help behind the scenes? Quite possibly, and very likely. Aerith is already implied to be the reason Cloud survived the week before he washed up on the shores of Mideel (Cid is told by one of his finders, “That boy must have one powerful guardian angel watchin’ over him”).

So I like to think Aerith had a part in Cloud and Tifa’s survival too – but we’ll leave that one to theory. Just a thought.

Whatever transpired, only Tifa could reach the ‘real’ Cloud, and I have no doubt that Aerith knew this. So Cloud reaches Tifa and Tifa reaches Cloud, with all of their being each crying out for the other.

Now, we come to the long debated ‘scene’ – did Cloud and Tifa make love under the Highwind?

I believe the answer to be, under the high affection version, yes. But that is irrelevant to this discussion of whether their love is romantic – for that experience is not a plot matter (occurring in one narrative alternative), and may operate without Eros or as part of Eros. Of course, in Cloud and Tifa’s case, it would have stemmed from their Eros (my point simply being that it is not a necessary ‘proof’ of their love).

But before considering the high affection alternative, let us turn to what we can find in the low affection scene. The scene also results in Cloud and Tifa sleeping against each other. After they board the airship the next morning, they find Barret, Cid and Red XIII and the following conversation ensues:

Tifa then runs to the window and faces the other direction in an awkward stance, while Cloud turns away also and scratches the back of his neck. “Were you listening?” If nothing romantic was said at all, as the argument goes, what then is there to make of their embarrassed reactions?

In the high affection version, this conversation with Barret, Cid and Red XIII plays out the same up until the point where Tifa responds. Instead of saying, “Were you listening?” she asks “Were you watching?” and then falls to her knees in embarrassment.

There is a reason there are two versions of this scene and it is not whether Cloud and Tifa ‘get together romantically’ at all. Rather, it is what transpires – according to the player’s agency (for their earlier decisions result in either narrative) – around Cloud and Tifa’s sealing of their romantic relationship (Cloud’s feelings having already been brought to light in the Lifestream):

        In the low affection version, they declare it with words (that their friends listen in on).

        In the high affection version, they declare it, like they have been declaring it the entire game, through actions (which their friends, to their dismay, end up watching).

Now, with Cloud’s love for Tifa having been openly revealed in the Lifestream, this night under the Highwind is centered on the revelation of her love for him, and upon that love being mutual, the sealing of their relationship. The version the player ends up with is therefore dependent on the affection points earned with Tifa throughout the game.

These points being ‘low’ simply means they do not make love as they do in the high affection alternative, despite high emotions with the impending doom of the Planet. Like Gold Saucer, the narrative can differ. Their love coming together, however, is part of the plot.

Sephiroth’s manipulations through Tifa’s doubts – the catalyst that caused Cloud’s psyche to shatter – is paralleled in the Lifestream with the restoration of his psyche. After Cloud’s “sealed up secret… wish” is brought to light, Tifa is able to fully overcome her doubts over both Cloud and herself. And it is then that they return to the Nibelheim incident, where Cloud regains his true self. It is when Sephiroth broke Tifa that Cloud broke; it is when Tifa overcomes herself (“You weren’t created five years ago. My childhood memories weren’t all made up!”), that Cloud gains the strength to both recover and accept his true self.

They share a oneness and complete mutual reliance on one another in pertinence to their very personhood.

So far runs Cloud’s love for Tifa that it is at the core of his identity. While he cannot recall who he is even within his own subconscious in the Lifestream, his inner voice (true self) recalls Tifa as the motivation at the core of his being.

There is no ‘you and me’ in pertinence to Tifa and Cloud. There is only ‘us’. And alongside this reciprocative Eros (which I will soon examine on Tifa’s part), exists a friendship that surpasses that which Cloud has with anyone else. They are wholly absorbed in each other, and they are side by side in vision. Tifa is his rock as much as he is hers, fighting beside him in every sense of the word; she is his best friend.

Let us now turn to Aerith and Tifa:

https://outbythehighwind.tumblr.com/post/640347336477966336/the-misconceptions-of-ff7-a-cloud-aerith-tifa

[jalapeno-princess]

Chapter 3: Home Is Where The Heart Is

Mark Tuan X Reader

Part 3 of the “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” Series

Word Count: 10K

Genre: Angsty Angst (This chapter is actually the saddest one of the five chapters but don’t worry, it gets better soon)

Summary: Distance makes the heart grow fonder—or does it?

A/N: Hey guys! So this part sounded better in my head(it’s kind of all over the place) but so is my life hahahaha please enjoy! (Italics are past tense but I bet y’all already knew that)

“I’m sorry, but the number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please try again later—“ 

The frustrated groan that fell from your lips was expected. This was the sixth time you tried to get in contact with your boyfriend tonight but all your attempts went straight to voicemail. You knew being in a long distance relationship was going to be difficult; not having Mark around anymore was driving you to the brink of insanity more and more each day. 

It didn’t help that there was a seven hour time difference between the two of you. When he would be waking up, you were in the middle of class and if you were about to go to sleep, he was getting ready to go to soccer practice. As much as you tried to make sure that Mark heading off to college wasn’t going to affect your relationship in any way, there was only so much you could do to stop yourself from worrying about what the future really held for the two of you. 

From the beginning of your relationship up until now, you and Mark experience distance on multiple occasions. However, the twenty-minute distance between your elementary school and his middle school was nothing compared to being stuck in California while he went off to study at New York University. 

You remembered the day he found out he was accepted like it was yesterday. Not only was Mark extremely talented in almost every single sport any college had to offer, but the grades he maintained all throughout his high school career was unbelievable. It was only natural for all these colleges to reach out to him; offering many different kinds of scholarships and even full rides to some of the universities Mark could only dream of being able to attend. 

When you were younger, the older boy would always fantasize about traveling to New York. He would watch all kinds of shows, documentaries and anything kind of tour program that the travel channel had to offer. At the time, you thought it was extremely adorable. Any time Mark seemed very passionate about something never failed to pull on your heartstrings. But when the many acceptance letters began coming in the mail, you wanted nothing more than to rip them all up. 

You’d be lying if you said the breathtaking grin on his face each time he opened up one of the letters didn’t make you happy yourself. You were extremely proud of Mark for being able to excel in almost every single thing that he put his heart in to. To this day, it boggled your mind at the idea of how perfect he genuinely was. There was not one letter of rejection and it wasn’t shocking to you. Mark was the kind of student athlete every school wish they could have. 

He had acceptance letters from almost every university in California and you tried to indirectly hint towards wanting him to choose from one of them. At the same time, you forced yourself to accept whatever it was that he wanted. After all, it was his life—his future. You were being selfish for wanting to get in the way of that. Unfortunately, everything you’ve been worried about since you’ve realized Mark was going away for college at the beginning of your sophomore seemed to come true. 

Fights began to occur whether you liked it or not. Deep down, you knew it was harder for him because he was thousands of miles away from his friends, his family and his favorite person—but that was his choice. His schedule and your schedule tended to collide. You were both extremely busy at the same time and it was evident that making time for one another was harder than you both thought it would be. 

He called you every single day for the first month that he got settled in and he never failed to mention just how much he hated it. The campus was huge; your parents allowed you to go up with him and his family to explore New York City together while helping him set up his dorm. It was honestly one of the best experiences in your entire life. Just like Mark, you’ve always dreamt about traveling the world and the longer you two were dating, all you ever really wanted to do was experience going on trips all around the world with him. 

For the most part of the trip, the Tuan family had an itinerary of what they wanted to do while in New York but they did give you and Mark some free time to do whatever it was that your hearts desired. You found yourself at Central Park having a cute little picnic that he planned out prior to landing in New York and he also took you to the skating rink in the middle of Times Square. Watching him fall on his ass multiple times made you come to the realization that maybe Mark wasn’t perfect at everything—but that didn’t matter. He was still flawless in your eyes; and it was one less activity for you to get jealous over. 

The days seemed to fly by to both his and your dismay and soon, you and his family were just hours away from heading back to California. You deemed yourself old enough to say that leaving Mark had to be the hardest thing you have ever done so far in your entire life. You’ve never seen him cry so much before and you didn’t know whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. 

Sure, the idea of not having his family around really upset him; but the fact that he was no longer going to be able to see that breathtakingly beautiful smile of yours—nor would he get to hear your contagious in person really broke his heart. If it were up to him, he would’ve held you captive and prevented you from going on that six-hour plane ride home. His grip on your hand as you all drove over to the airport was tight while his face was hidden in the crook of your neck. 

“Fuck—I made a mistake didn’t I?” 

You gently pulled him away from your nape in order to look at him and you could’ve sworn you’ve never felt a pain in your chest like you did when you saw his eyes so swollen and red from all the tears he cried. Out of force of habit, you cupped both his cheeks and tried to give him the best fake smile you ever put on before. 

“No, you didn’t make any mistake babe. If anything, this decision had to be one of the best ones you’ve made so far. Four years will be over before you know it. Trust me, you’ll be over the moon when you finally become a successful engineer and you’ll learn that it was all worth it.”

“Will it be worth it though? Leaving you—no longer physically being with you. Not being able to kiss these pretty lips of yours, not being able to hold you as much as I want to, not getting to hold these dainty little fingers of yours that seem to fit mind so effortlessly; like they were made for me. God y/n, I’m going to miss you so fucking much. I don’t think I can do this. I can’t live without you.” 

The tears were practically burning at your eyelids. Then don’t. You wanted nothing more than for him to change his mind and those two little words were on the tip of your tongue—but it was too late. He was already registered; he had a jersey for all three sports teams he was going to be a part of. His dorm was filled with all his items—this was going to be his home for the next four years and you just had to accept it for what it was. 

“This is your future Mark—“

“You’re my future baby. All I want—all I could ever need, for the rest of my life is you y/n. I’ve known it since I was seven years old and I’ll know it when we’re eighty. Promise me, we’ll be okay. Please. I know it’ll be hard; missing you is probably the only thing really fucking me over right now. I can’t promise you that things are going to stay the same between us as much as I would hope it could, but don’t give up on me. Okay? I love you y/n, more than I could ever fathom in to words. We’re going to be okay.” 

His words from that night came back like a slap to the face. It was like they were taunting you. The two of you were definitely not okay. Although his college experience was off to a rough start, things seemed to fall in to place for your boyfriend during the second month. When football season began, he had something to do to take his mind off of how much his heart was longing to be with you. 

You felt at ease knowing that he was finally getting used to being so far away and that he was actually enjoying his college escapades. He informed you on all the new friends he was making, how practices were longer and more grueling, how the campus food was nothing compared to his mom’s cooking and how people in New York would walk like they were on steroids. 

If only you could say you were having as much of a fun time with school as he was. Junior year wasn’t all that you thought it would be—but you also blamed yourself for your disinterest in anything that didn’t regard your boyfriend. Your life revolved around Mark and it was something you never wanted to admit out loud in fear of sounding pathetic. What person in their right minds would spend the only free time they had sitting around with their phone in their hand, waiting for a call from their boyfriend? Only you apparently. 

Your family were quick to pick up on how you were no longer yourself; everyone and their mothers were well aware of how much Mark meant to you and equally aware of how much you meant to him. The two of you were magnets; where you would go, he would follow. Nobody could separate the two of you even if they tried. 

There was a gravitational pull between you and your boyfriend and everyone knew that his absence had to be the reason you were always so out of it. You might have been there physically; whether you were at school, hanging out with your friends or just sitting at dinner with your family—but mentally, you were with Mark. 

Your mom was actually the one who talked you in to either getting a job or joining a club. Seeing as how you weren’t someone who liked to interact with anybody you didn’t really know on a personal level, you decided to go with the former and found yourself applying to many different jobs. Unlike a lot of your classmates who chose to work at coffee shops or at the state library, you accepted the job at a grocery store ten minutes away from your house. 

It wasn’t the most ideal job, but you could use some extra money. The first day of work was pretty simple; it was more of an orientation to get you prepared for your next shift. Your manager went over what was expected of you as a cashier, how you were supposed to wear your uniform, where you could find items if customers were to come up and ask you for assistance and other necessary information about your responsibilities. 

Right as you were packing up your things and preparing to head home for the day, it was then you walked in to the break room and noticed someone sitting on one of the couches. That someone just so happened to be one of the biggest pains in your ass. 

“Jaebeom, what the hell are you doing here?” 

When you first were introduced to him a little over five months ago, you didn’t think he was going to get under your skin like he has been for the last few weeks. In the first week of his arrival from Korea, your teacher gave you the responsibility of showing him around the school. Not only did you not feel as if you were personable enough to be the one to actually give a campus tour, you cringed at the idea of having to be alone with him. 

At first, he attempted at small talk with you; he wanted to know what your favorite food was, how your high school experience was so far, if you were in any extracurricular activities and the kind of music you listened to. You decided to not give him the time of day and tried to limit any interactions with him specifically because you didn’t think Mark would be too fond at the idea of you befriending another guy. Especially one he wasn’t all that familiar with. 

You also felt that there was a chance Jaebeom took a liking to you. Although you never really thought too highly of yourself nor did you want to assume that he had developed feelings for you, he always seemed so eager in wanting to talk to you. In fact, you had yet to see him try and pester anyone else the way he would with you. It was if he was picking on you purposely. 

A part of you felt as if you were being extremely rude towards him; he was nothing but friendly and patient towards you and you were nothing but hostile with him. His kind personality only lasted for so long. When he realized that you had no intention on being friends with him, his considerate nature took a 360 degree turn. 

Out of nowhere, his flirtatious compliments soon turned in to insults. He also started picking on you; throwing paper airplanes in your direction to get your attention, always selecting the good supplies before giving you a chance to and even hiding your things while you were away from the table. You knew you were at fault for his behavior; your hostility towards him when he was nothing but nice to you was unfair on your part. But you knew guys like Jaebeom—you had a feeling he was like most of the guys at your school. As much as you enjoyed hanging out with Mark’s friends, they obviously only chased after girls for sex. 

Your boyfriend was the only one with genuine interest in relationships and being in love. Jaebeom didn’t seem at all different; it’s as if his aura screamed trouble and the last thing you needed was someone to meddle with your relationship in any way. The older boy looked up at you incredulously; he was wearing the uniform you were just given and he was sitting in the break room—obviously that meant he was an employee and you were well aware of that. 

It was just that you had a hard time processing; or accepting rather the fact that you were going to be working alongside someone you considered an enemy. Out of all the places—why did he have to work at the same grocery store that you just got hired at? He already gave you so much stress at school, you could only imagine it was going to be worse now that he was your coworker. You found out in that same week that he was a stock member, so you wouldn’t have to deal with him at all which you were glad to say the least. 

The less time you had to spend around him, the better. To your dismay, your contact with Mark went from a couple times a day to only once or twice a week if you were lucky. That wasn’t the worst part; the distance seemed to be getting in the way of everything. For the last three years in high school, you were good with keeping up your grades. You were also very good whenever it came to participation and answering any questions your teachers would ask you. 

You didn’t realize just how unhappy and dejected you were until you and your parents were called in to the office by your counselor to talk about your grades. Not only were you failing two classes, you were one letter grade away from being on probation. Your parents wanted to be understanding; although you never involved anyone in to your relationship, they were well aware that your behavior was the subject of Mark’s absence and his failing to call and text you. You began to feel like he no longer loved you the way that he used to—the way you still did with him. 

If he did, wouldn’t he use every minute of his free time, no matter how exhausted he was to talk with you? There were countless nights you’d stay up past midnight because it was the only time he’d be able to contact you. Here you were bending over backwards in order to even get a glimpse of him and yet—he couldn’t; or didn’t even think about doing the same for you and it sucked. It sucked because all your biggest nightmares were coming to life right before your eyes and there was nothing you could do about it. You couldn’t help but cry every time you thought about how he practically begged you to never give up on your relationship, no matter how hard it was. 

Where was the boy who claimed to love you more than life itself? The same boy who would call you up at 2 in the morning just to cry over how much he missed going to sleep with you in his arms? Where was the boy who was willing to give up his entire college career if it meant being able to see you every day and who was this stranger who couldn’t care less about how you’ve been doing? 

A part of you felt as if you wanted to confront Mark and tell him about how you felt, but you never got around to it because if he ever did get in contact with you, it was to complain about what he was suffering through or how his life was going. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be there for him; you were so grateful that Mark trusted you with all of his worries and problems, but you missed being able to do the same with him. You didn’t want to accept it, but your boyfriend no longer cared about you and it was a hard pill to swallow. 

As irresponsible as it was for you to cry while at work, there was one day in particular that you just had enough. You stayed up the entire night before, contemplating your relationship with Mark and wondering if it was even worth fighting for anymore. Keeping up a long distance relationship was a team effort and you knew you were the only one putting in your heart and soul to make sure it wouldn’t fall apart. 

Your manager had a feeling something was off with you that day as soon as she saw you walk in with your shoulders slumped and tear stains on your cheek. When you were ringing up customers, you had zero energy and you weren’t even trying to put on a fake smile—you just did not want to be there at all. Most of your friends felt like giving you your space even if they were extremely concerned with your well being. But they didn’t feel like there was anything they could do. 

Your sister moved out of the house to live with her boyfriend a couple of months ago and both of your brothers were away at college. It was just you and your parents and even then, they would both work up until late. You felt so alone—and it wasn’t like you had Mark to run to. Everything in your life was falling apart and you were so unhappy. You loved Mark, more than you wanted to; and more than he deserved as of right now. 

There was nothing more you wanted than to fly up to New York and knock some sense in to him—you also wanted to kiss him for as long as time permitted you to. Only one hour in to your shift, your manager pulled you to the side and asked you if everything was okay. 

Honestly, you didn’t know how to respond. You were definitely not okay; nothing was okay. By the weary expression on your face, she knew something was wrong and instead of trying to force it out of you, she allowed you a fifteen-minute break just to take a little breather. 

Sure, you have been working there for quite a while; but you didn’t want to take advantage of your manager’s kindness. She already had done so much for you; whether it was switching around your schedule so you could study for your midterms or finding someone to cover your shift if you called in sick so you didn’t have to, you knew she was an employer who genuinely cared about her employees and it was something you would be forever grateful for. 

Once she told you to head to the back, you found yourself releasing the quietest whimper before you broke down in tears. You didn’t care whether or not someone were to walk in on you crying, everything was just too much for you to handle. Your chest felt tight and your throat grew sore with every sob. Why was all of this happening to you? 

Just months ago, you were living out your best life. You had your entire family to come home to every day, your grades were almost perfect, you had both your friends and Mark’s friends to make you laugh and take your mind off of how difficult school could be but most importantly, you had Mark. You were so busy wallowing in self-pity that you failed to notice that you were no longer the only person in the break room. 

You felt Jaebeom before you saw him. He glided his hand gently along your back as a way to get you to slow down your heaving. When he noticed that you leaned back in to his comforting touch, he took that as a sign to hold you even closer—and he did. Jaebeom had brought you on to his lap and began to run his fingers through your hair while rocking you back and forth. 

Although he knew he was getting in to dangerous territory; there was no way he could just let you cry by yourself. There was a chance you would be mad at him for taking advantage of you while you were in such a vulnerable state, but he didn’t care. He’d accept whatever you were to throw at him once you realized what he did to help console you. 

What you weren’t aware of, was that he did in fact have a crush on you. It may have been a suspicion on your part, but it was true—and he made it painfully obvious that he liked you. On his first day when your science teacher had him sit with you, he was captivated by your beauty. Sure, Jaebeom has seen many pretty girls in his lifetime, but something about you stood out to him and he could explain what it was because he didn’t know himself. 

However, when your teacher had you bring him around the school—take him to his classes, show him where all the important buildings and offices were; he learned that you were a no nonsense kind of person. You were also very bold and blunt; something he wasn’t used to in a girl. Maybe that’s why he liked you so much. Unlike other girls, you hardly ever batted an eye to him nor did you appear to desire his attention. It wasn’t something he was used to; Jaebeom was always well-known and well-liked by his peers. 

In the few months he’s been at your school for, he grew to be a crowd favorite. Everyone in your junior class either wanted to be him, be friends with him or date him. You however, wanted nothing to do with him and something about that made him all the more interested in you. He didn’t know why, but seeing you cry made his chest feel heavy. He had no idea why you were so upset, but he wanted to beat up whoever it was that made you cry. 

Even if it wasn’t towards him, he’d observe the way you were such a bright and bubbly person whether it was with customers, your fellow classmates or your teachers. It was a bit of a stretch to desire a friendship with you, but he at least wanted to be civil. Jaebeom wasn’t going to lie, he got a kick out of teasing you and doing things he knew would get a rise out of you, but it was his only way of really getting to interact with you and he was going to take whatever he could get. When he realized you were no longer crying, he decided it would be best to get you off of his lap. You shocked both yourself and Jaebeom when you stopped his movements and cuddled in to his chest even closer. 

“Wait—just a couple more minutes. Please?” 

You didn’t know what came over you in that moment; whether it was because you were lonely and felt as if you had no one, or because this was the first time in a long time that someone held you in such a comforting way, but you didn’t want him to let go. You couldn’t help feeling as if it was wrong; being held by another guy who wasn’t your boyfriend—you knew Mark wouldn’t be all too happy if he were to find out that you were the one who wanted to continue being held by Jaebeom, but you weren’t able to find it in yourself to care. 

The two of you stayed like that until Jaebeom told you he had to clock in, but once the two of you got up from off the ground, he pulled you against his chest and held you ever so gently. This was the first time you ever felt anything other than disgust for him and it actually felt pretty nice. He could’ve have just left you there; he could’ve allowed you to cry all by yourself and honestly he should have with the crude way you’ve been treating him, but he didn’t. You were evidently hurting and Jaebeom came to your rescue. 

From that day on, your friendship with the kind-heartened boy blossomed immensely. Instead of hiding in one of your classes or in the back of your school library for lunch, you were now meeting Jaebeom in the courtyard. It took you a while to come to accept it, but being around Jaebeom felt like a breath of fresh air. Although his presence didn’t completely take your mind off of your failing relationship and what was barely left of it, he did make you laugh with some of the corniest jokes and he also brought you some of his mom’s homemade strawberry milk. 

The longer you were friends with him, the more you learned that he was the complete opposite of what you thought he was. First, he was the biggest momma’s boy. Well—other than Mark, but being an only child, Jaebeom was always clingy and overprotective when it came to his mom. He wasn’t embarrassed to answer her calls if he were around you and one day, he brought you over to her café in order to let you try a few of her other concoctions. He was also a huge cat lover. 

He was the proud father to five different cats he all adopted from the humane society. The fact that surprised you the most though; was that he was a b-boy dancer. He didn’t give off the vibes of being passionate for dance, but at the same time you didn’t think he was capable of taking care of anyone but himself—let alone five cats. You didn’t want to believe that there was anyone else for you other than your boyfriend—nor did you think you harbored any romantic feelings for Jaebeom; but at the same time, your chest would feel empty every time he would drop you home. 

You wanted to believe that the love you had for Mark was enough to fight off the feelings you assumed were growing for the boy in question. It wasn’t until he called you outside of your house on a Saturday with a bouquet of roses in his right hand and a teddy bear in his left. You would never be able to forget how shy and flustered he looked; you never thought you’d see the day Im Jaebeom’s cheeks would be flushed with pink—it was even harder to process that you were the reason. 

“Hey—I uh—would you maybe want to—I was wondering if you and I could—Junior prom?” 

Shit. You were too focused on everything else going on in your life that you failed to remember than prom was in less than a month. Honestly; you didn’t really care about going. Mark never asked you about it and when you tried to bring it up to him one night, he told you he would be busy on that day so you ultimately decided you wouldn’t go. 

There really wasn’t any point in going anyway; you were hardly close with anyone in your year and you didn’t want to waste hundreds of dollars on a night where you’d be alone and miserable. Plus, you already got to experience both Junior and Senior prom with Mark. Both nights were too amazing to even describe. Mark never failed to compliment how beautiful he thought you looked; in fact, most of the night was spent with him staring at you in awe of your beauty. There was no way you would be able to go to prom without tearing up over how much has changed in less than a year. 

A year ago, Mark rented out a hotel room for the two of you to return back to once prom was finished and you knew exactly what his plans were for the rest of the night once he pressed you up against the elevator mirror and kissed you with all the energy he could muster. Even if you weren’t really in the mood to go, you didn’t have it in you to tell Jaebeom no. 

Knowing the kind of guy he was, you were sure it took a lot for him to build enough courage to ask you such a nerve-wrecking question. The two of you may have been friends; but that didn’t necessarily mean you would want to go with him. As soon as he saw the small smile that he was falling for faster than he’d like to admit rise upon your face while you nodded your head in agreement, he returned back an even bigger and toothier grin. He was quick to hand you the gifts and pulled you in to his warm embrace before your mind could really process what was happening. 

“I like you a lot y/n. Would you be my girlfriend?” 

Hearing those words made your head spin. At this point, you were confident that Jaebeom liked you. He was so sophisticated and chic around anyone else but to you, he would conform in to the smallest little baby. He was so soft for you and followed you around like a lost puppy. You’d be stupid if you didn’t think there was even the smallest chance that he liked you. 

Seeing him with such hopefulness in his eyes broke your heart; your relationship may not have been what it used to be, but there was no way you would ever cheat on Mark—nor did you want to give up on him just yet. You were waiting—what for, you had no idea. But there was a tiny voice in your head begging you not to give up on him just yet. You wanted to believe that one day soon, he would realize exactly what he was doing to you. He would realize how he was breaking your heart and if he didn’t hurry up and get his shit together, he would lose you completely. 

“Jaebeom, I’m so sorry—I can’t—I—I have a boyfriend.” 

When you watched his face practically drop at your confession, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. Why didn’t you say something earlier? How could you lead him on like this? He was nothing but caring and thoughtfull; everything Jaebeom did was to make you happy. Something that only your boyfriend should be worrying about. 

You didn’t feel like you needed to tell him everything about yourself nor did you feel as though that information was all that important. Yet—you couldn’t help but feel as though there was another reason as to why you didn’t tell him. You didn’t think it was because you didn’t want him knowing you were in a relationship just in case he did have feelings for you. 

So what was the real reason? His frown was quick to disappear and you felt as if you’ve known the older boy long enough to distinguish his real smiles from the fake ones. The smile he was currently giving you did not reach his eyes. You wanted to reach out to him and give him a hug—but you would only be giving him more confusing signals.

“Jaebeom—“

“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it okay? I should have expected it. There was no way someone so beautiful with such a charismatic and gracious personality was single. Please know that I won’t let my feelings for you get in the way of our friendship okay? Your boyfriend is a very lucky guy; I hope he knows that. I’ll see you on Monday, have a nice day.” 

That was the first time you ever cried over someone who wasn’t Mark. Your heart hurt from Jaebeom. It was evident that he wasn’t a relationship kind of guy; nor did he seem to be the kind of person who would buy flowers for someone but he did so—for you. Jaebeom was changing his ways in order to impress you—to be the lucky guy who got to be the one who called you his. But that position has been taken for over ten years now and there was a battle going on between your mind and your heart on whether you wanted to continue your relationship or if you wanted to take a break from it. 

That following Monday; you could tell Jaebeom was trying his best to show that the rejection wasn’t affecting him in anyway, but he was only human. You were the first girl ever that he fell head over heels for; so it was a lot for him not only to face rejection, but to hear the reason as to why. He wasn’t as talkative nor did he really show interest in anything at all. You even tried to come up with all kinds of conversations about topics you knew he was heavily interested in, but all your efforts failed. 

You broke Im Jaebeom. 

Thankfully, things didn’t stay awkward between the two of you for too long. If the only way he could have you in his life was as a friend, he was going to take it. Prom night finally arrived and you knew you should have been excited, but you couldn’t wait to get it over with. You didn’t even tell Mark that you decided to go—you didn’t think he would care anyway. It was disheartening for you to come to the realization that your relationship was causing you more anguish and pain than it was excitement and adoration. 

When did Mark grow tired of having to put effort in to your relationship? When did he realize that you were the last thing he should be worrying about? When did he stop loving you? As much as you didn’t want to think or even believe that your boyfriend fell out of love with you, there was no other explanation as to why he’s been acting the way he has towards you. Sometimes, you felt that the only reason why Mark continued to stay in the relationship was because it was convenient for him. Your relationship continued for a span of a decade. 

You were all he has known for the last ten years. You’ve seen it all; the good, the bad and the ugly. The idea of starting over with someone else, having to get used to someone else must’ve been troublesome. While you got ready for your prom, you were quick to pick up on your mom’s unusual behavior. 

She was constantly texting someone on her phone and she motioned for your dad to walk over to where she was so she could show him what was making her so animated. You wanted to think it was because she was just excited that you agreed to go to prom, but something in your gut told you there was more to her exuberant exterior. You were just getting the finishing touches of your makeup done when the doorbell rang and your mom wasted no time making her way downstairs. 

“Y/n! Jaebeom is here, and he’s looking especially handsome today!” 

Your parents were aware of your friendship with the older boy and they seemed to approve of him. They were fond of the idea that he took care of you in the way Mark always did when he was still in California. You decided to leave out the fact that he liked you just in case it caused any unnecessary drama. After you finished putting on your dress and your heels, you started heading down to the living room and you could’ve sworn your heart rate increased as soon as your eyes landed on him. 

Everyone with good eyesight could see that Jaebeom was exceptionally good-looking. You actually hated just how handsome he really was; but seeing him with his hair slicked back, wearing a suit and tie was all the more breathtaking. You didn’t think it was possible he could get any more handsome than he already was. When his eyes landed on you, his eyes widened in shock and you even saw his jaw drop a little bit. His stunned reaction was making you feel things you know you shouldn’t have been. 

“Wow y/n you look—wow—“ 

You giggled softly as you playfully pinched his cheek as a way to prevent him from seeing the effect his words were having on you. “Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself. Shall we get going?” 

He placed your corsage on your wrist and gave you his arm to hold while saying goodbye to both your parents. Jaebeom in more or less words, was the perfect gentleman. From the moment you both arrived to the hotel, he opened every single door for you, pulled out your chair for you and helped lift your dress to prevent it from dragging.

 As amazing as the night had been so far, you despised the fact that you wished it was Mark there with you instead of Jaebeom; but it was only human of you to do so. No matter how much hell he was currently putting you through, you would rather go through the ends of the earth to be with him than to go to heaven with anyone else. 

When your date excused himself to the bathroom, you decided to go on your phone until he was too come back. Right as you saw that you got a text notification, curiosity got the best of you since the only people who would get in contact with you these days were your parents, your siblings and Jaebeom. At first, you just assumed it was your sister wishing you a good time or your mom reminding you to watch your step. However, your heart both fluttered and sank when you finally opened up the message and saw who it was from.

Babe: Hey, are you free right now? Can we talk? 9:23 p.m.

You wanted to laugh hysterically. Out of all the times he could contact you, it had to be the night of your prom. A night where you were supposed to have fun and enjoy your last year and a half in high school. Was he really being serious right now? You wanted to leave his message on read; you told him that you were going to prom and you were sure he must’ve seen a couple of posts on social media from some of his friends in your grade that he still kept in touch with. But your heart was dying to hear what he had to say. 

For some reason, you thought it was something negative. Those three words never led to anything good. Was he finally feeling the distance between the two of you? Was it suffocating him as it was slowly killing you? You didn’t know what he was going to tell you, but you couldn’t let it wait.

You: Sure, let me just go outside real quick. 9:24 p.m.

You decided to send Jaebeom a quick message that you needed to make a phone call so that he didn’t worry about your sudden disappearance. Once you made your way outside, you gave yourself a few seconds to recollect your thoughts. The last time you had a conversation with him that lasted for longer than five minutes was almost two weeks ago. It was currently almost summertime, yet the temperature was in the low sixties, so you began to rub alongside your arms to keep warm. After taking in a deep breath, you pulled up his contact and dialed his number. 

“Hey baby. How are you?” 

You absentmindedly rolled your eyes at his question. What did he care? How you’ve been no longer seemed to matter to him for over four months now, so what was so different about tonight? “I’m fine. What is it that you wanted to talk about? I’m kind of busy right now.” 

You didn’t mean to come off so coldly, but you were just so frustrated with the entire situation and you were anticipating something negative to fall from his lips. 

“Aw shit—I forgot. Tonight is your junior prom right? Damnit—if it’s any consolation baby, you look so fucking beautiful.” 

You were confused at his compliment; when did he get a chance to see you? Since you weren’t all too excited for tonight, you didn’t really post anything—nor did you feel the need to send him any pictures. Maybe your mom sent him photos of you or something. Right as you were about to respond, there were two hands that lightly covered your eyes. 

You knew exactly who it was without even having to guess; these were the hands you’ve held for more than half of your life. The same hands that would wipe away any tears that would fall from your eyelids. Mark. He spun you around and immediately placed a searing kiss upon your lips before you could even say or do anything. 

“Hi baby, missed me?” Seeing him for the first time in almost five months should have been more thrilling, yet when you looked at him, you felt nothing. No butterflies, no sparks, no increasing of your heart rate—nothing. When you looked at him, you didn’t see the love of your life. 

The boy in front of you held no familiarity at all. You wanted to react; you wanted to cry—to wrap your arms around him and kiss him all around his handsome face. You wanted to go in to detail about how much you’ve missed him and how these last five months without him were extremely difficult—but nothing came out. You could tell by his furrowed brows and the way he was biting his lip that he wasn’t expecting such an emotionless reaction from you. 

“What are you doing here Mark?” 

He frowned. Mark had a feeling he was being such an asshole towards you for the last few months. He knew the distance between the two of you was all his fault. It was killing him as much as it was with you. What you didn’t know, was that he took on a job in order to make some money for a trip back home—to see you. To say he was tired was an understatement. 

If he wasn’t at school, he was at work. If he wasn’t at work, he was at practice and the only time he had to rest was right before bed. There was no excuse for not reaching out to you more often; honestly all he wanted to do was to call you and see what you were up to. That’s why all your calls were so short. He didn’t care what the two of you talked about or how long the conversation lasted, he just wanted to hear your voice. It was what kept him going. 

No matter how hard college was for him, he knew he was going to get to see you again soon. If only he knew what his absence was going to do to your relationship; then he would’ve just asked his parents to pay for his flight home but it was a pride thing. Mark hated having to depend on people. He was independent from the day he could walk. Your reaction was the complete opposite of what he was expecting, but it wasn’t exactly unexpected. 

“I wanted to surprise you. Listen, I can explain why I haven’t been so involved in our relationship these days and I’m really sorry y/n. I’ve been such a jerk and you really don’t deserve that but—“

“I think we need to take a break.” 

You couldn’t even look at him; you were sure the two hours of makeup that the makeup artist work so hard on would get ruined if you were to see his reaction. It took you a long time to come to that decision; not once in your ten years of knowing him and loving him for would you have ever thought you would want to take a break from him. You never wanted to be away from Mark—ever. But he was never around anyway and waiting on him only interfered with what was going on in your life. It was also taking a huge toll on your mental health and you no longer wanted to give him that power anymore. 

“Y/n, you don’t mean that. Baby you’re just mad and you have every right to be. But please, hear me out—“ You let out a scoff of disbelief. 

“Hear you out? All I ever seem to do is hear you out Mark. Everything is always about you! Go check your messages. It’s always me—I’m always the one reaching out to you. I’m always the one initiating the calls, I’m the one staying up till the wee hours of the morning and going to school so exhausted just so I can talk to you. I—I can’t help but feel as though you fell out of love with me. Don’t get me wrong, your happiness, your health and your well-being is all I care about. But you don’t seem to give two shits about me or anything that goes on in my life Mark. I got a new job—I tried to tell you, but I never get any word in before you have to leave for school or for practice. I’m also on probation—my grades are shit right now and if I don’t get my act together, they’re going to hold me back an entire year and guess what Mark—it’s all your fault. I’m tired Mark. I can’t keep doing this anymore.”

“So that’s it? You’re going to give up all these years—these wonderful, amazing and unfathomably perfect years together because you’re being stubborn and refuse to hear me out? You’re giving up on us so easily y/n! You claimed that I fell out of love with you—you and I both know I am still so madly in love with you and I’m always going to be in love with you Damnit! What happened to all our plans huh? What happened to forever? You and I are soulmates y/n—did you forget that?”

“Of course I didn’t Mark—but don’t you dare play the victim in this. Our relationship is no longer what it used to be. I tried so hard—so fucking hard to get it back to what it used to be but each and every single one of my efforts went to shit because you obviously don’t think anything is wrong. I’m dying Mark. This relationship is going to be the death of me. I’m unhappy Mark. I haven’t been happy in such a long time. I’ve missed you so fucking much—“

“I’m here now baby. Fuck y/n I’m so fucking sorry baby. Please—please, please—let me fix this. I can fix this. I’m not letting you go this easy—fuck I’m never letting you go y/n. Get it through that thick head of yours. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.” 

You hesitantly brought your hand up to cup his cheek and released a gentle breath of relief when you felt him lean in to your palm. You grazed his bottom lip with your thumb before leaving a chaste kiss against his lips. Your heart was begging you to hear him out—stupid heart. Such a stupid—stupid heart. 

In his eyes, you could see the little boy who added an extra red piece in the slot when you weren’t looking so that you could win connect four against him. The same boy who gave you his shoes to wear as he walked with just socks on because he saw how much pain your heels caused you at his junior prom. There was not a doubt in your mind that Mark loved you even if you kept trying to convince yourself that he didn’t. 

The love he had for you was still there. It just wasn’t as fierce or as strong as it used to be. You wanted to deepen the kiss; you loved kissing Mark. There was nothing you missed more than having his pretty lips meld perfectly with yours—but you knew if you were to kiss him, your entire speech about going on a break was going to be for nothing. You rested your head against his chest before placing a gentle kiss right below his jaw. 

“I love you Mark. I truly believe I was made for loving you and I’m always going to love you. I have every intention to getting married to you, starting a family with you and spending the rest of my life with you. But right now, I think we need some time apart in order to find ourselves again. I lost myself loving you Mark—I gave you everything and you took it all without hesitance until there was nothing left. I need to learn to live without you Mark. I’m not giving up on us—I’m just doing what I feel is going to bring us back to each other again. You are my person Mark Tuan and I’m yours.” 

The two of you stood there for what felt like hours. His grips were tight on your waist and you began to tear up as soon as his chest began to heave against yours. You knew he was crying and you weren’t actually expecting any kind of emotion out of him; you were still so shocked to hear him grow angry with your decision. When you looked up at him and saw his eyes were now bloodshot red and filled with tears; you were ultimately regretting your decision. You wiped a tears away with your fingers and pecked his nose lovingly. 

“Don’t cry baby. In due time, we’ll be fine.” 

You were selfish; you were the one pushing him away, yet you still wanted as much time with Mark as you possibly could get. You didn’t know just how long it would take for you to heal, so you wanted to cherish this moment while you still could. Unfortunately, your little reunion with Mark was interrupted and you had a bad feeling that things were right about to go downhill. 

“Hey y/n, they’re going to start announcing the king and queen did you want to—oh—uh—hey man, you must be Mark. Nice to meet you.” 

Mark’s grip on your waist tightened as his jaw clenched; yeah—this wasn’t going to end well. Mark was the definition of a jealous boyfriend. One time, he almost ended up twisting BamBam’s arm when the younger boy made a joke about how you were in the bedroom. He was extremely protective and territorial over you—but since he’s been absent, he had yet to hear about who this guy was that seemed to know who he was. 

His eyes landed on Jaebeom’s tie and how it matched your dress perfectly. It only made him wonder—who exactly was this guy to you and why were you at the prom with him?

“Jaebeom, do you think you could go inside? I’ll be right there.”

He looked at your worried expression then noticed how both of Mark’s fists were balled at his sides. Jaebeom wasn’t stupid; he wasn’t all that bright when it came to his studies, but he could tell that you weren’t as happy as you played yourself off to be. Seeing how tense you and Mark both were, he couldn’t help but feel that your boyfriend was the reason. 

As much as he wanted to call Mark out for making you cry so much these days, it wasn’t his place to do so. He was just your friend and if he wanted it to stay that way, he knew it was best to keep his mouth shut. You relaxed when you saw him nod in agreement before walking back inside of the ballroom. 

“Mark, I think it’s time for me to head back—“

“Him. Is he the reason why you’re leaving me? Did you fall in love with him? Did you cheat on me y/n? Did you get lonely while I was away—working my fucking ass off at a job I hate in order to save enough money so I could come and see you?—“

“Mark, stop. You know it’s not like that—“

“Needed another dick to keep you satisfied while I was away? Is that what it is? What—did he say all these nice things about you to get you to fall for him? What is it y/n? What’s so good about him huh? What does he have that I’m lacking—“

“ENOUGH! Don’t you dare accuse me of cheating on you. You and I both know I would never EVER do such a fucking thing. My heart—this pathetic heart and what’s left of it, my mind, my spirit, my body—you own it all. How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want anyone else but you for you to get it through your fucking head? Stop trying to play the victim Mark! You’re at fault here! Accept it! Jaebeom is just a friend—he was here for me when I had nobody. I had no friends—my siblings are all out of the house—my parents are gone all the time and my boyfriend only calls me when he wants to—when it’s convenient for him. Jaebeom is a genuine friend Mark. You should be happy that I had him to keep me sane. Instead of wondering who he is to me, you should be focused on what you are to me. Good night Mark.” 

Jaebeom tried his best to cheer you up in any way possible, but he could tell by your body language alone that you just wanted to go home. He didn’t hear what happened after he left, but the curiosity was eating away at him. However, you already looked so distraught—he didn’t want to add on to it. You felt bad for Jaebeom—this was just as much his prom night as much as it was yours and now you ruined it for the both of you. What you could use was a three-month long nap. When Jaebeom dropped you home, he placed a soft kiss on your cheek before wiping a tear from your face that you didn’t even know fell. 

“I don’t know what happened earlier and I don’t expect you to tell me. But just know I’ll be ready to listen whenever you’re ready to talk.” 

You didn’t know what it is that you did to deserve such an amazing friend like Jaebeom—if someone were to put you through what you’ve been putting him through since the day you met him, you would’ve dropped that person completely. But here he was—so understanding—so willing to give up and sacrifice anything for your happiness. You made a mental note to make it up to him once you were mentally ready to do anything. 

Your parents were shocked beyond words to see you coming back alone—they actually didn’t expect you to come home at all knowing that Mark was going to surprise you. They actually conspired with Mark to go and surprise you at the hotel because they’ve noticed how broken you’ve been for the last few months and they were hoping that seeing him again would get you in a better mood. Your mom was about to approach you, but it was evident that you just wanted to go to sleep. 

Only three days in to your break with Mark did you realize you may have made a brief lapse of judgement. Sure, it was as if nothing has changed. You were already used to not hearing from him; but now that you knew the two of you currently were not a couple, it made things all the more difficult. Minutes felt like hours, hours felt like days and days felt like months. Waking up felt like a chore; you missed him like crazy. 

Even if you only heard from him on his time, it was better than not hearing from him at all. Exactly one month after that heartbreaking night at your prom, you found yourself on a plane to New York. Once school was out for the summer, you found yourself at the grocery store almost every single day in order to make enough money to afford a round-trip plane ticket to see Mark with the hopes of mending your broken relationship. In this last month, you came to the realization that you were willing to have Mark in your life even if it was only once or twice a week; it was better than not having him at all. 

“A105, A106, A107—A108. Here goes nothing.” 

You were afraid that in the last month, Mark could have realized that maybe this break should be a permanent decision. He hasn’t tried to get in touch with you once since your prom night nor did he try to visit you once while he was still in California—but then again, you couldn’t blame him. He was giving you the space you asked for; now, you were hoping and praying he was going to open the door and welcome you with open arms. You knocked a few times and it felt as though you were about to throw up your heart. When you had yet to hear a response, you reached forward to knock again. When the door finally opened, the person behind it wasn’t who you were hoping it would be.

“Y/n?”