#i deliberately did not tag anybody in this and no i will not say why

[fallow-hollow]

Aaa! Your Kabru x reader was really nice! May I request a Holm x Reader where the reader helps him when he freezes up in rapid situations?

pick-me-up

…ft! holm kranom x gn! reader

…tags! pre-relationship, fluff, a little banter, reader knows some magic, some magic lore i may or may not have made up

…word count! 1167

…notes! people who are madly in love with side characters are truly god’s strongest soldiers. i hope i characterized your man correctly!!

As close as you and Holm were, neither of you really seemed to idealize one another too much. Being in the dungeon, you had to be aware of all your teammates’ strengths and flaws, regardless of personal opinion. When it came to the gnome you called your closest friend, even he didn’t deny it — he did not operate well under pressure.

Considering that you were in a place where foes could ambush you at any moment, anybody could see why this wasn’t a great quality to have. From being unable to save your friends to even being unable to save yourself, there were a lot of potential consequences to locking in place during the middle of combat. Something had to be done about it sooner rather than later, and if he had to ask someone, he’d rather it be you than anybody else.

The plan was formulated during some downtime the party had — something to stop Holm from going stock still whenever he felt overwhelmed. Luckily, your companion already had an idea for you.

“I figure the easiest way to deal with this’ll be using magic.”

You nodded. Not much of an obstacle, since you already had at least a few spells under your belt.

“As long as you have a rudimentary understanding of magic, it’s not gonna be too hard to get down.” For a moment, the gnome deliberated, wondering how to explain the concept to you. “You know how healing magic can hurt sometimes?”

With a grimace, you shook your head in understanding. Rin and Holm were pretty good about that sort of thing, but there had been more than a few occasions in past parties where healing and injury hurt even more than obtaining it. Seeing that you were familiar with what he was saying, the man continued.

“Well, that’s actually how healing magic is by default. When it doesn’t hurt, that’s because the caster is using a separate spell to numb your sensations.” As you listened, your mouth formed a little ‘o’ shape to show your interest. “Naturally, you can alter people’s sensations with magic in other ways, too.”

“Oh,” you would interject, “so I could use magic to make you more….focused?”

“Not quite, but yes.” At your approximation, he held up his index finger. “I was thinking you could use just a little bit of mana to sort of perk me up, almost like a spike of adrenaline to set me back in motion again.” His hand then lowered, turning over so his palm faced upward. “It’s pretty simple, just transferring mana through touch like you would with a healing spell.”

“I can do that, no problem!”

Ah, he was still looking at you, even after you said that… was there still more he wanted to share? When your eyes wandered down to the hand he held out, embarrassment that you hadn’t realized sooner quickly washed over you.

“Ah, you wanted to practice?” At first, you feared that your slow uptake had caused Holm some annoyance, but the relaxed smile on his face didn’t give way in the slightest. He seemed almost amused, really.

“Guess I should have been more clear about that, huh?”

The smirk on his face let you know that the question was most certainly rhetorical. Answering it would have been a moot point anyway, so instead you pouted and mumbled, “You’re always so snarky with me… not fair.”

Transferring mana was something you were fairly familiar with doing, so you were able to take the gnome’s hand into two of your own with little hesitation. Back when you’d just joined the party, the act of touching him made your cheeks heat up, but exposure to it over time had made the experience far from unfamiliar.

Just remember to envision the flow of the mana, you reminded yourself. Truly feel it, from your head to your toes, through your veins and bones, and out the tips of your fingers. Feel the current connecting you to him…

With your eyes trained on your joined hands, half lidded while you chanted the spell as instructed, you hardly noticed the way your companion’s ears actually twitched and perked up when the incantation was completed. Only when his whole body jolted did you shoot up in turn, concern pooling in your irises.

Said concern seemed to be unneeded, judging from the pleased look on his face. It was one that brought you relief, not just from the knowledge that you’d done well, but from the sight of him alone.

“That’s good, I think you’ve got it.” Even his voice seemed cheerier than before, and you weren’t quite sure if it was from the magic, your success, or both. Nonetheless, it was kind of nice to see his usually laid back demeanor become more enthusiastic from time to time. “So remember, the next time I get stunned in an overwhelming situation, use that if you’re near.”

“Of course!” You grinned, knowing you’d always be neat if you could help it.

That little practice session with Holm had been a few days ago by now. It took quite a while for a situation to actually arise that called for your little backup plan, but you most certainly kept your word.

Perhaps if it was just one stray suit of living armor, Rin or even Daya would’ve been able to dispatch it just fine. But in a whole hallway full of them with no way around, you could only tiptoe past them in hopes that maybe they’d ignore you, or even end up just being normal suits of armor. You should’ve known, of course, that the dungeon is no place for wishful thinking.

When the intimidating armored figures inevitably sprung to life, the first thing you did was look to Holm. Unsurprisingly, he was completely still by your side, eyes blown wide and mouth hanging open while he didn’t even shake or quiver.

Just do what you talked about. Transfer the mana as quickly as you can. You may have taken the latter half of that a bit too seriously judging by how, instead of taking his hand like you had during practice, you immediately reached for his face instead.

Only halfway through chanting the spell did you notice the slight tint on his cheeks, likely from embarrassment, and it took everything you had in you to continue the spell without stuttering from your own flustered state. After all, restarting the spell would take even longer, and that was pretty much the exact opposite of what was needed right now.

The second the spell had been completed, the both of you pulled away from one another, invigorated by both magic and embarrassment respectively. You heard Holm utter a quick thanks to you, but you were too busy feeling completely mortified by the way Kabru had just glanced at the two of you, seemingly more entranced by your interaction than the imminent peril you were dealing with.

You’d never hear the end of this, would you?

#ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ fallow’s works! #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi x reader #dungeon meshi imagines #delicous in dungeon #delicious in dungeon x reader #delicious in dungeon imagines #holm kranom #holm dungeon meshi #holm kranom x reader

[marypsue]

find the word!

I hadn't even heard of this kind of tag game until @monsterhunting tagged me! What a great idea.

The words Grace gave me are lean, stare, change, pull, and trust. I have to see if they show up in any of my WIPs, and then post the snippet they appear in if they do. This was an exercise in discovering how much I overuse certain words, so I sort of...picked a WIP for each word, and then picked the best snippet if there was more than one result. Samples under the cut!

lean

From why can't we be ourselves like we were yesterday, the Steve/Nancy/Jonathan bodyswap AU:

“Great.” Robin hands him the video she’s holding, piling it on top of the stack in his hands with a careful little pat, before starting to back away. “Just – man the counter, do those rewinds, and don’t – go anywhere.” “Where do you think I’m going to go?” Jonathan asks, but Robin’s already hurrying towards the door behind the half-wall with the garish neon Family Video sign. Robin pauses just long enough to lean back around the wall and catch Jonathan’s eye. “Just don’t go anywhere!”

stare

From that same small town in each of us, the Stranger Things ageswap AU:

“You know something,” El says, her face getting scary again, and just like that, the decision’s made for Mike. “Not about Joyce,” he admits. “But my friend Dustin didn’t show up for school today. Nobody knows where he is. The last time anybody saw him was leaving this after-school science club last night.” Mike meets El’s scary stare, and adds, “And I know he doesn’t have…gifts.” Will’s voice, his eyes, are sympathetic, but his words are definitely not. “If the lab’s people shot El – maybe Dustin and Joyce were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” “What – are you saying he’s dead?” “He could be,” El says, all soft, like that makes any of this better.

change

From former heroes who quit too late, the third and final part of the AU where (almost) all the Stranger Things kids have powers:

“Why did you say,” Lucas starts, cautiously, “ ‘while I’ve still got the chance’?” Mike looks up. He’s a little surprised Lucas even noticed that. He’s a little surprised Lucas has to ask. “One or more of us dead. That’s what Barbara said, right?” Lucas frowns at him. “That was if we can’t change it. It’s not guaranteed.” “Yeah. But we haven’t changed it, yet, have we? We don’t have the spy, we don’t know what’s going on with the Russians, we haven’t even been able to tell Hopper and Mrs B…and it’s already the fourth.” Mike laces his fingers together and pulls his palms apart, looking down into the basket he’s made with his hands. “We’re going to stop – whatever it is. I know. That’s what we do. It just – I just -” “It feels like you’re running out of time,” Lucas offers, and Mike shrugs. “I guess. It’s just – if the Mind Flayer really is back, or if there’s another monster, and it goes after us…” He has to swallow, hard, suddenly. Trying to breathe in this entryway is like trying to breathe soup. “El’s going to fight it. You know she is. She’s gonna be right out there in front of us, throwing the first punch.” Lucas nods. Mike pushes himself up out of the chair. Suddenly, he can’t stand the scratch of the woven fabric against the bare backs of his knees. “It just feels like I should say something, first. But she’s not making it easy. Come on, we’re gonna cook alive in here before Nancy and Jonathan get back.”

pull

From Something Borrowed, Something Blues, the sequel to Reincarnation Blues:

After a moment of apparent deliberation, one of the dryads gestured, and the branch Mabel had been trying to pull away from the woman’s face suddenly slithered away. The rest of the vegetation webbed around her started, creakily and in lurching, jerking movements like old stop-motion animation, to retreat into the soil. Two of the dryads had already gone to join their sisters trying to battle the flames. The third paused only long enough to catch Mabel’s eye and give her a long, hard stare, before hurrying off to join them. The second she was free, the woman Mabel had taken for Grenda gasped in a breath and then asked, almost demanded, “Mira?” She was looking right at Mabel. “No, sorry,” Mabel said. “Hey, how’d you get inside a tree?”

trust

From Blood Will Out, the The Lost Boys pseudo-sequel-slash-reboot fic featuring an OC sister duo and vampire girl gang because I am nothing if not Predictable:

When Edgar comes back, it is, unsurprisingly, with an implement of vampiric destruction. But the stake he holds out to Jamie is offered blunt end first. “Keep this on you at all times. Especially while you’re in Santa Carla. It might just save your life.” Jamie hesitates for a moment before taking it from his hand. It’s a beautiful piece of woodworking, unadorned, a little more than a foot long, turned and varnished so smooth and perfect that the grip sits satiny and comfortable in her hand with no risk of splintering. The end is sharpened to a point so fine she nearly pricks her finger on it. It’s surprisingly heavy in her grip, too, solid and dense. “Thanks, but -” Edgar cuts her off before she can finish the thought. “Don’t let my presence and my fearsome reputation lull you into a false sense of security. There’s still a serious undead element active in this city.” He pauses for just a moment, the only sign he’s uncertain at all, before adding, “And you can’t trust your sister.”

I'm going to tag @daddygrandpaandthebeaver, @mickeymagpie, @amethystunarmed, @enquiringangel, and @gretchensinister, and my words for you are: sharp, take, moon, pile, and dream.

#chatter #this is mary's fic tag #stranger things #why can't we be ourselves like we were yesterday #stranger things ageswap au tag #former heroes who quit too late #the hawkins indiana psychic baby boom #gravity falls #transcendence au #the lost boys #blood will out #oh look at that i finally got a canon character into blood will out

[keichanz]

Mistake

kay so i really don't care if some of this doesn't make sense because this is the first thing i've written in a while that i don't absolutely hate. well this version at least. ending up scraping the first draft because it just seemed wrong and went in a different direction. im glad i did cause im happy with it.

anyway i realize that this may not get much feedback because i took a different approach to it, aka the entire pov is from an OC but i can't bring myself to care too much because i wrote this purely for myself. got inspired, started writing, and i actually liked the content i was writing. end of.

btw the oc doesn't refer to inuyasha as a half-demon because he's unaware he is one and i was too lazy to delve into those waters anyhow.

also for the sake of this oneshot pls dont look too closely at the ranks of diplomat and ambassador. i was too lazy to put much research regarding positions of power so just...go with it.

inspired by @stillunderyourbed​'s art that can be found here.

It was…quaint. Smaller than what he'd expected. The housing structures looked subpar, there didn't appear to be any wooden walkways, and he could detect the distinct odor or fish in the air with hints of manure. There even seemed to be a perpetual dust cloud hovering at about waist high, thickening from the numerous carts, wagons, horses, and villagers kicking up dirt as they went about their daily lives. Already he felt like there was a layer of dust caked on the inside of his lungs and he wasn't even inside yet.

All in all, it was your typical countryside village, home to simple folk that made a living off of fishing, farming, and trade. The diplomat sneered in disgust. For being the rumored home of the creature strong enough to destroy the despicable Naraku, the village was…less than impressive. And to say that he was underwhelmed would be a vast understatement.

Shifting atop his mount, a chestnut gelding that had been his faithful companion for the last four years, Takeji frowned as he surveyed the sight before him. It was early afternoon, so men were out working in the fields, women were chatting amongst themselves as they laundered clothing at the river, and children were running about, playing and laughing while dogs barked at their heels. He could see the great red torii gate and the stone staircase that led to the shrine and he could hardly refrain from rolling his eyes.

The village was obviously poor, possibly even teetering on the edge of poverty, and instead of feeding themselves for a good long while, they decided to construct that monstrosity. He would never understand the minds of simple common folk. Daft. All of them.

Barely keeping himself from scowling, Takeji reluctantly climbed off his mount and forced himself to move forward into the pathetic excuse for a village. Already he knew he would have to burn his expensive attire; there would be no getting the dust and stench out of it after his ghastly visit. A visit he had not wanted to make, but being a highly revered and prestigious diplomat, it was his duty to travel to far off lands in hopes of establishing a profitable relationship that would ultimately benefit his homeland.

Although, looking around and fighting against the urge to retch at both the nauseating stench and the mere sight of all the unwashed villagers milling around, Takeji wondered not for the first time why he even bothered to accept this task. True, it was said the slayer of Naraku did hail from here, but surely having his homeland associated with this hovel would garner nothing but loss. So why had he agreed to come?

Oh, yes, he mused, grimacing as he stepped over a large manure pile right in the middle of the road. Because apparently, being all chummy with the nation's hero will allow us to have him at our beck and call, because who doesn't want a powerful demon capable of slaying the most evil demon in all of existence as an intimidating presence during negotiations, and let's not forget he alone would be equal to about one hundred soldiers in battle.

Rolling his eyes, Takeji tied his mount to a hitching post, withdrew his satchel with all the necessary paperwork, and set about finding this Inuyasha fellow. He'd been told the demon wore scarlet robes, carried a sword at his hip, and had white hair so no doubt he would stick out like a sore thumb amongst the droll browns and grays of the common folk, which suited him just fine. The sooner he was done, the sooner he could leave because there was no way he was staying even a second more in this village than he had to. Even if the next inn was hours away, he'd make the journey; the inn here was probably as unclean and riddled with bed bugs or something. Ugh. How vile.

Shrugging the satchel over his shoulder, Takeji bit back a groan, sighed, and hadn't even made it a single step before the sound of screaming froze him in his tracks. He gasped and immediately started looking for the danger, body tense, preparing to hop back onto his steed lightning fast and make a hasty getaway.

But as he looked around with wide eyes and a frantically beating heart, Takeji couldn't help but notice that he was the only one that appeared to have heard the sound of terror. The villagers were just continuing to go about their day, calm as you please, either severely deaf or completely uncaring. Takeji was beginning to wonder if he was perhaps hearing things when it happened again, a high-pitched sound that he realized with dread belonged to a child.

Takeji gaped. A child was in danger and nobody cared?! What kind of village was this?! Another shriek pierced the air, and Takeji made a decision. Very well; if these imbeciles weren't going to do anything about it, then he himself would see to the danger. While by no means a swordsman or warrior, he did have some weapons training he could fall back on for this precise reason. Traveling alone was dangerous, and you never knew what you would encounter.

Resolved, the diplomat set his jaw, unsheathed the dagger at his waist, and darted toward the direction the screams were coming from. He meandered between houses, hoped over lazing dogs, dodged startled villagers in his path, and he came into a small clearing by the forest's edge. The sight that greeted him was…not what he expected.

Coming up short, Takeji watched with a befuddled frown as one child chased around two other, slightly older looking children. One might think they were playing a game of sorts, and the diplomat started to believe that was indeed the case…until the one doing the chasing, clad in red, suddenly jumped high into the air, over the heads of the other two children, and landed before them with hands raised.

Hands, Takeji noticed with growing dread and disgust, tipped with claws on each finger and he quickly realized what exactly was happening. That wicked little demon brat, that creature was toying with those helpless children! It was keeping them trapped, preventing them from running away by leaping over their heads and blocking their route of escape! They screamed, the demon child laughed, and so potent was his fury, so enraged was he for the fact that the villagers apparently did not care about what was happening right beneath their noses, Takeji failed to notice the wide smiles on all three of the young one's faces. The blood pounding in his ears prevented him from hearing the gleeful giggles as the two human kids scrambled away from the one clad in red, and without another thought, Takeji moved.

"Run, children!" Takeji ordered as he hurled himself into the clearing, dagger raised as he charged toward the demon brat with a baleful glare. "I will take care of his filthy animal!"

All three children froze in place, eyes wide as Takeji inserted himself between the two human children - twin girls, he idly noted - and the demon spawn that dared raised its claws toward them. The brat stared up at him with big brown eyes and it - she - actually looked confused. Takeji scowled. He would not fall for such a ploy.

"I will not allow you to harm them," he spat and pointed his dagger at her. The child blinked at him and then looked behind him at the two girls who still had not taken the chance to flee. In shock, perhaps? Stunned? No matter; they were safe, so long as he stood between them and the threat.

The demon child made a face and started to walk around him, completely disregarding the weapon trained on her, but Takeji shifted and stopped her once more. He heard the two behind him whispering as the spawn looked up at him once again, this time frowning at him with narrowed eyes. And was that a growl he heard? He snorted. Was she actually trying to appear threatening? Pathetic.

Scowling, Takeji lifted a foot, placed it on her stomach, and shoved. The demon gasped as she stumbled back and then landed on her behind with a small grunt. He heard a gasp from behind him, urgent whispering, and then hurried scrambling. A glance over his shoulder told him they'd finally gotten wise and ran away. He nodded. Good. Now he could deal with this vermin without innocent eyes to bear witness.

But as he stared down at the pathetic sight before him, Takeji wondered maybe if such measures would even be necessary. The beast was still lying where she had fallen and was staring up at him with wide eyes brimming with…wait. What? Were those tears? Oh, you have got to be joking.

Rolling his eyes, the diplomat scoffed at the pathetic play for mercy and careless waved his dagger at her. The child actually flinched and followed the blade with her gaze, wariness clear in her eyes. Well. It appeared her self-preservation instincts have finally kicked in.

"Cease your theatrics," Takeji drawled, unimpressed. "They do not fool me. Now lucky for you, demon spawn, the pathetic sight you project has made me decide to spare your life. Your tainted blood is not worthy enough to soil my blade, so I will say this only one and you would do well to heed this warning, beast."

Hardening his stare and curling his lip into a sneer, Takeji spat, "Leave this place at once and do not return. There is no place for the likes of you, an abomination that preys on helpless children. Now get out of my sight, afore I kill you on principle. Your vile presence disgusts me."

The child grunted and Takeji watched, stone faced, as she got to her feet. Then to his surprise the little demon balled her hands into fists at her sides and glared at him, but the effect was ruined by the tears he could clearly see brimming her eyes. He cocked a brow, unmoved. She sniffled once, twice, and then to his utter surprise and bafflement, her face suddenly crumbled, her lower lip trembled, and she promptly burst into loud tears before spinning on her heel and running away.

"P-Papaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Takeji frowned. Papa? Were the brat's kin nearby, then? Body tense and weapon raised, he waited, prepared to either fight or flee - because he wasn't a fool and knew when he was in over his head - but when no demons came bursting out of the tree line, Takeji slowly relaxed.

Bewildered and more than a little annoyed at the whole debacle - what a waste of time! - the diplomat scoffed in derision as he turned to watch the little demon brat scurry away. And then right at that exact moment, a figure donned in red dropped to the ground seemingly out of nowhere and Takeji felt a wave of relief sweep through him. Finally! This had to be his demon quarry.

Nodding, Takeji stepped forward and opened his mouth to call out a greeting—

And then froze in his tracks as the greeting abruptly died on his tongue. Because the little demon girl, the one he'd just pointed his weapon at and shoved to the ground, ran straight to the figure robed in red and Takeji could do naught but watch with a growing sense of horrified dread as the older demon knelt down to take the child into his arms.

All color promptly drained from his face and Takeji suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He glanced behind the pair and he was somehow not at all surprised to find the twin girls from earlier glaring at them and holding onto the skirts of their mother with a monk garbed in violet robes beside her. They too were staring at him in a not so friendly manner, but upon returning his gaze to the two demons, Takeji numbly thought that if looks could kill, he would surely be dead by now.

Because the demon robed in red - which was now unmistakably the child's father and none other than Inuyasha, the demon he'd come here for - was glaring absolute murder at him and it was obvious that he was. Not. Pleased.

Takeji swallowed and unconsciously backed up a step. With one small hand fisting her father's robes, the child had the other pointing an accusatory finger at him as she no doubt recited to him their earlier…ah, exchange. Inuyasha said nothing in response, but he didn't need to. The deep, nearly subsonic growl that erupted from his mouth, complete with fully bared fangs in a truly fearsome snarl, told him very clearly of his thoughts on his daughter's mistreatment by him.

Which, if Takeji had to guess, were not very Takeji-friendly. At all.

Somehow managing to fight against the urge to flee, Takeji swallowed hard as Inuyasha pushed to his feet and stalked toward him with that same murderous look on his face. Something told him, perhaps some deeply rooted self-preservation instinct, that if he even tried to run right then, it would not end well for him. So he remained where he was and tried valiantly to control the trembling in his body as he slowly, very slowly, tucked his dagger back from whence it came.

Inuyasha stopped in front of him and Takeji cleared his throat before attempting a placating smile, but it looked more like a grimace than anything. "Ah…I assume you are…In—"

One second Takeji was staring into the scowling features of one pissed off dog demon. The next there was a bright flash of light and then he was staring at the business end of a very large and very sharp sword. With the tip just a hair's breadth away from his nose, Takeji gasped sharply and stumbled back a step out of instinct.

Sweet merciful heavens! How—?

"Usually I'd ask who the fuck you are," the demon growled, his eyes twin slits of baleful gold. "But honestly, I can't really bring myself to care enough to know the name of the asshole who threatened my daughter when she was doing nothing but playing with her friends."

Takeji blanched for the second time and he could actually feel himself breaking out in a cold sweat. He fucked up. Oh dear god he'd fucked up so bad—

"There's—there's been a misunderstanding," Takeji tried in a voice higher than usual, raising his hands up in what he hoped was a placating gesture as he eyed the very sharp point of that blade. "I—I admit I've made a grave mistake—"

"Shut the fuck up and tell me why I shouldn't gut you where you stand," Inuyasha hissed, lips feeling back off his fangs in another fierce snarl. With his ears pinned back and those golden eyes glaring absolute death at him, the demon made quite the menacing picture. Takeji had the brief, if a bit ludicrous thought, that perhaps the demon Naraku perished from the sheer animosity that was coming off of the silver-haired demon in waves.

Swallowing once, twice, Takeji realized that he only had his quick wit to get him out of his certain predicament. So bracing himself, he opened his mouth—

"He's from the continent, Inuyasha. You can't hurt him."

Startled hazel eyes swung toward the source of the voice but amber eyes stayed locked on their target, the only acknowledgment of the voice a flick of an ear.

The owner of the voice the human diplomat could only presume was the child's mother, as the child in question was standing behind her legs and was actually smirking at him. He frowned.

"You're from Shenshi," the woman remarked and Takeji swung his gaze back to her. "Right?"

Though her expression wasn't openly friendly, it wasn't exactly unfriendly either, however the human diplomat still felt he needed to tread carefully. Because while her face didn't betray anything, her stare was hard and her mouth had tightened into a thin, flat line. She had one hand on her daughter's head while the other clutched a longbow, and belatedly he realized she had a quiver of arrows slung across her back. He barely held in a flinch as he realized this was one of the demon's companions that had assisted in slaying Naraku, possibly the young woman in which Inuyasha held a more meaningful relationship.

A much more meaningful relationship, if the child currently glaring daggers at him was anything to go by since she was more or less living proof of it.

Wonderful. So he'd gone and threatened the only child of two of the most powerful beings in Japan. Clearly he'd stepped over the wrong grave and pissed somebody off.

Clearing his throat and aiming a strained smile toward the woman who was still awaiting his reply, Takeji nodded once. "Ah, y-yes, my lady. I'm—"

"The diplomat Ambassador Sharaku sent to convince Inuyasha to join his ranks so he'd have the support and protection of 'The Great Slayer of Naraku.'" The woman raised a delicate brow at him. "How am I doing so far?"

Takeji had the good grace to look a mite sheepish. "Ah…well—"

"You can't kill him, Inuyasha," she repeated and Takeji thought she sounded disappointed. "If he goes missing, the ambassador will send his troops to find out what happened or if he returns injured, it could be taken as an insult and you can imagine what would happen after that. You would risk mine or Moroha's life like that, and you know it."

Inuyasha growled but said nothing to refute her words, so Takeji assumed he agreed.

"He threatened her, Kagome," the demon spat, inching the blade closer to his throat and Takeji flinched. "Called her a fucking animal, shoved her down, and waved a goddamn dagger in her face! You can't honestly expect me to let that—"

"Papa," the child - Moroha - suddenly said, successfully stalling her father's angry tirade. A quick glance revealed the girl, still sticking close to her mother, was staring at the older demon with big brown eyes, bright with the threat of tears as she worried her bottom lip. And evidently the sight was enough to calm the raging storm of Inuyasha's fury because he grimaced, released a low growl, and then Takeji watched in stunned amazement as the massive sword suddenly transformed into a rusty katana before it was sheathed at his hip.

With a weapon no longer at his throat, Takeji could breathe a little easier and he released a breath he hadn't even been aware he'd been holding. But then he sucked it right back in when Inuyasha suddenly stepped in close and got in his face, a low, threatening growl leaking past rightly clenched teeth bared in another snarl. Golden eyes bore into his own, filled with a lethal warning that had the human male's back straightening and his blood to run cold in his veins.

"You listen carefully, asshole," Inuyasha hissed, glaring so heatedly it was a wonder Takeji didn't burst into flame. "Don't you dare think that my wife's words have any sort of sway over my decision to spare your pathetic life. I'm not scared of your weakling ambassador and I sure as hell ain't scared of his little human army. No, the only reason that I let you live is because I don't want my daughter, the one you foolishly threatened when she had done nothing wrong, to see me sully my hands with your disgusting blood when I reduce you to nothing more than a bloody smear on the ground."

Takeji paled and swallowed thickly. That particular image was…not pleasant.

Inuyasha watched the color drain from his face. Satisfied, he sneered before saying in a growl filled with sinister promise, "Now get the fuck outta my village and if you ever touch my daughter again, I'll gut you so fast you won't even have time to fucking scream."

Then with that, Inuyasha leveled him with one last dark scowl before spinning on his heel and stalking away, a clear dismissal. Neither mother nor daughter even spared the frozen human male a glance as Inuyasha paused to pick his daughter up into his arms before striding away, his wife close to one side and his friends on the other.

From over his shoulder, Takeji could only watch in a mixture of shock and befuddlement as the little demon girl named Moroha smirked and then stuck her tongue out at him, safe and sound in her father's arms.

Left standing in a state of numb bewilderment, Takeji blinked, looked down at himself, and had the passing thought that it was a very good thing he'd decided to wear brown trousers that day.

#mistake #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha #inukag #moroha #oneshot #keizfanfiction #papayasha to the rescuuuuue #i deliberately did not tag anybody in this and no i will not say why #and yes i did use sharaku because it sounds like naraku #listen dont fuck with his wife or kid #you will die #if you dont understand that last sentence #tough shit im not explaining it lmao

[serendipityseulgi]

8 Ways of Love;

— park seonghwa

according to the ancient greeks, there are eight different types of love. here is:

･*:༅｡ the one known as pragma, the enduring love.

aka, the kind of love that matures and develops over a long period of time, and somewhat rare to find. 

8 ways of love series; version i

A love story that shows the progression of yours and seongwha’s relationship from the moment you two become friends, to lovers, to exes, and everything else in between. 

love catalyst: the subconscious.

At the age of six years old you declare Park Seonghwa to be your boyfriend, solidifying your “relationship” with a hug.

“Eww, y/n, you have cooties!” your best friend barks, pushing you off him.

“Wha- hey no I don’t!” you squeak.

“Yes you do because Mingi told all the boys not to touch the girls because they have a disease and it’s going to eat our bodies alive!” he practically screeches getting up from the sandbox about to walk away from you.

“Seonghwaaa he’s lying!” you whine out and he huffs turning around to face you.

“Well all the other boys are listening to him so he has to be right.” 

“Well I touched you yesterday when we were playing tag and you’re fine!” you defend. “And if all girls have cooties then how come your mommy still hugs and kisses you goodbye in the morning? Wouldn’t you be dead now?”

Even at the age of 6 you were the biggest smartass Seonghwa knew.

After a moment of deliberation, he sighs. “Okay fine, you’re right.” your friend huffs. 

“So are you gonna back so we can play again?” you ask, arms crossed over your little body. 

Seonghwa nods before grabbing onto your hand to drag you back into the sandbox. 

The two of you return to making your sandcastle and it’s only a mere two minutes later does your friend speak up.“Am I actually your boyfriend now?” he asks suddenly and you whip your head towards him.

“Well I hugged you so yeah.” you roll your eyes at him and his soft little laugh makes your tiny heart jump.

Within the next week you two forget you’re “boyfriend-and-girlfriend” and go back to being the best friends you’ve always been, playing in the sandbox after school, watching cartoons at your house, and never missing a single dinner together while your parents listen to the two of you talk your little heads off.

For the record, there wasn’t much of a difference in your so-called relationship and your friendship in the first place when you were just six years old.

 At thirteen years old, your best friend confesses he likes you.

“Okay I know this is weird because, I should see you as like, a sister or something, I don’t know!” Seonghwa rants, pacing back and forth in your bedroom as you watch him frantically explain the way he feels about you.

“You know what I mean though? You’re like, practically family to me! Right? Right...” you figure he’s talking more to himself than to you as he asks himself questions that he’s quick to answer to. “Like you’re probably gonna think I’m weird or something, but you are my best friend and I don’t want it to be weird-”

“Seonghwa for the love of god can you just get to your point.” you interrupt impatiently.

“I like you okay?” he says quietly, avoiding all eye contact with you. 

His heart is beating so fast he feels like it’s actually going to rip right through his chest. He’s never been nervous around you ever. You’re his best friend, and you have been since you were 5 years old, and he doesn’t know why he suddenly feels like you’re the only girl he wants in his life. 

When he hears you laughing at him his heart drops to his stomach and he braces himself for the upcoming rejection.

“Can you come sit next to me.” you ask, gesturing to the empty spot on your bed. 

Seonghwa complies, yet his anxiety is rising by the second. He has never been so nervous in all the thirteen years he’s been alive. He almost wants to vomit as his stomach churns at the thought of you telling him you didn’t feel the same way.

“You’re rejecting me aren’t you...” he sighs, plopping down onto the spot next to you.

You shake your head with a smile. “No idiot, I like you too. Obviously.” you roll your eyes at him.

“Wait, what? Seriously??” he almost goes into shock. “Are you joking?”

“I mean, I thought it was pretty obvious.” you shrug. “I was throwing subtle signs at you for the longest time.”

“Like what?!” 

“Like the time I kept pestering you to take me to the Valentine’s Day dance, and when I made you hold my hand during that scary movie when you know I never get scared of horror films. Oh, and the time you kept badgering me about why I rejected Hongjoong for no good reason. I kept telling you that you were the only guy I needed in my life and you were too oblivious to realize I didn’t mean it in the friend way anymore.” you chuckle.

“Oh... Oh,” Seonghwa realizes. “I really am oblivious then.”

“It’s okay, I already knew you liked me back anyways.” you smirk at him, grabbing your remote off the bedside table.

You flip the TV on as you feel Seonghwa’s heavy gaze on you. “So does this mean you’re my girlfriend?” he asks you and you pause.

“I mean technically we never broke up when we were six so you’re basically just re-asking me out.” you tease, pulling the blankets on both your bodies as you settle on a show to watch.

“Oh god, you still remember that?” 

Of course you do. 

“Obviously, how could I forget you screaming to the entire park that I had cooties.” 

He laughs at that and you can’t help but smile widely hearing him. You both lay comfortably next to one another, watching intently at the show in front of you, yet both your minds were racing at the fact that officially, you could say you were boyfriend and girlfriend. 

“So when did you start liking me?” he asks you. 

“Honestly, I think I always did.” you answer truthfully. “But, like actually realizing my feelings for you?” you pause for a moment to think. “I think it was when you got really sick that one time and your parents were away for a business trip, and my mom made me drop off soup to your house. And I was only supposed to drop off the soup but I took care of you because even when you were all snotty and gross and barely awake to hang out with me, I kinda just realized I’d rather spend my time with you doing that than anywhere else.”

His eyes soften at you. “Aww.”

“Buuut then before that, there was also that time that Ashley told you she liked you and I got super jealous and I was actually going to shove her into a brick wall, so ...I kinda just figured...” you add.

“Way to ruin a sappy moment, moron.” Seonghwa playfully shoves you and you laugh. 

You cuddle up next to him returning your attention back to the show in front of you. Only a few minutes pass before Seonghwa speaks up again, and his question catches you off guard.

“What if we break up... like eventually?” 

You think about it for a second. “Then we go back to being best friends.”

“That easy?”

“That easy.” you nod. 

“For the record though, I don’t ever want there to be a time where I don’t like you. I hope there isn’t.” he says.

“I hope there isn’t either.” you assure, and just like that, you two go back to watching tv.

You’ve always had a soft spot for Seonghwa so it never came as a surprise to you, or anybody for that matter when you figured out you had a little crush on your best friend. 

In a hypothetical situation, if somewhere along the way your feelings ever started to fade, you still couldn’t picture a life where he wasn’t right beside you no matter what. He was your person, and he has been since you two were five. There was nobody in this world that could replace the bond you had with him.

Even at the age of thirteen, you knew you wanted Seonghwa to be there for the rest of your life.

At the age of fourteen and a half, you and Seonghwa have your first ever fight where he conveniently declares that he loves you for the first time. 

seonghwa <3; received 4:24 pm

y/n can u not be like this and talk to me :( 

plsssssss

i’m sorry

can u let me come over and talk to u

Your phone continues to buzz as you stare at it beside you, rolling your eyes at his insistent messaging.

You try your best to ignore it but the continuous beeping irritates you to no end.

you; delivered 4:26 pm

no

i’m mad at u.

seonghwa <3; received 4:26 pm

:(

you; delivered 4:27 pm

can u like do smth with ur life instead of bothering me

seonghwa <3; received 4:27 pm

ouch.

Okay, you admit. That one was a low blow and for a second you almost feel bad until you’re reminded of the fact that you were still royally pissed at him.

you; delivered 4:28 pm

ur actually annoying

seonghwa <3; received 4:28 pm

ya ik i am

but yk what i’m not

someone who is going to do nothing about their gf being mad at them

so open ur window bc im climbing up so i can apologize

stop being a meanie and let me say sorry

Despite how mad you still are, your heart can’t help but skip a beat reading his messages. No matter how hard you wanted to stay angry at him and tell him to go away, you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist him even if you tried. Seonghwa was charming like that, always managing to sweet talk you in every way. 

You crack open your window and see his tuft of black hair climbing up your ladder. As he hops into your bedroom you fold your arms across your chest, not daring to say a word to him until he speaks first.

“Look, I’m sorry for being an ass earlier.” Seonghwa apologizes, and all you do is look at him. He sighs before continuing. “I was just having a bad day and took it out on you and I shouldn’t have blown up on you during class. I get it. Dick move.”

“But then you had to go and talk to Ashley about it?” you added. “That was like the worst part of it! Do you trust her more than me or something?”

“What? No! Of course not!” he panics. 

“You, and everyone else and their mother knows she’s like obsessed with you!” you shout in frustration. “She’s liked you for so long, do you know how stupid you made me look running off to her knowing how she feels about you?!”

“That wasn’t my intention-”

“Were you trying to make me mad?”

“No, y/n.”

“Did you do it to make me jealous?”

“No!”

“So why Seonghwa, did you have to go and vent to her after you yelled at me in front of everyone when all I did was try to help?”

“I don’t know, okay!”

“I just don’t understand why me of all people you had to take it out on. When all i’ve literally done for you for like the last ten freaking years of us being friends was listen to you when you had a bad day or try to cheer you up when you were down! Never once when I was feeling crappy did I take that out on you. Never.” you explain with a heavy sigh. 

“I’m sorry.” he doesn’t know what else to say because he knows he’s in the wrong. 

“Do you like her or something?” your voice is quiet and the hurt is evident. “Cause if you do just tell me.”

Seonghwa is quick to shut you down as he pulls you into his arms.

“No, no, no. Y/n, I don’t like her. I don’t. Please believe me.” he begs. “Look, I don’t know why I went to her when I should’ve gone to you. I couldn’t even begin to explain what was going through my head at that point because I don’t know. But I love you, okay? I would never, ever like Ashley.”

Your eyes widen and you pull away from him. “W-what did you just say?”

“I... um...” Seonghwa starts to fumble over his words because he didn’t exactly intend to tell you, but it sort of just came out and now he’s starting to panic.

“Do you mean it?” you ask.

He just nods, a little embarrassed at his sudden declaration.

“I love you too.” you say softly, and he relaxes.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

"I’m really sorry, y/n.” he pulls you close to him, burying his face into your hair as he hugs you tightly.

“I’m sorry too.” you murmur against him.

“I hate fighting with you.” he mumbles.

“Me too.”

“I promise I’ll never take my anger out on you again. And I’ll never talk to Ashley again. And I’ll literally do whatever you want me to if it means you won’t stay mad at me because I don’t like it when you’re mad at me, and I hate making you sad.” he rambles and you let out a small chuckle.

“Just come lay down and watch Friends with me.”

“Okay.”

And you ultimately forget that you’re mad at Seonghwa because you decide that you can’t really stay mad at him after he tells you that he loves you. And although all is forgiven, he still decides to grovel for the next week as a reassurance that he really meant his apology.

So at fourteen years old, you have your first, and last fight with him.

At the age of sixteen, you celebrate your three year anniversary with Seonghwa, and decide you were ready to lose your virginity to him.

“Okay I know you said that the expensive dinner date was enough of a present for you, but you know me and always overdoing it....” he says behind you as you hear the crinkling of a bag behind you.

“Seonghwa...”

“Trust me, babe. You’re gonna love it.” he assures as he walks over to you.

Your eyes instantly fall onto the small red velvet box in his hands and your mouth falls open.

“This was expensive wasn’t it?” you pry and he shrugs.

“Maybe, but I was saving up for it for a while now.” he responds, sitting next to you as he hands you the box.

“I always feel bad every time you spend money on me.” you sigh as your fingers smooth over the velvet.

“I know but it was worth it, trust me. Open it.” Seonghwa urges.

You pull apart the bow and lift up the lid, your eyes widening in awe at the shiny ring placed inside. You lift it out gently noticing the small engraving on the inner part of the band, with both your initials and a small ‘i love you 4ever’ written underneath.

“Oh my god,” you utter. “I love it.” you place the ring on your finger.

“Good because I have a matching one too.” your boyfriend grins at you as he pulls out another box lined with a silver band with that very same engraving. 

You pull him in for a hug as he wraps his arms around you instinctively and all you can feel right now is an overload of gratitude for him. 

“I actually love you so much.” you say, pulling his face towards you to press soft kisses all over his face.

“Yeah, I know I’m the best,” Seongwha chuckles. “But I love you too baby.”

Your lips mould together perfectly, the kiss slow and soft at first. His hands wrap around your waist and your mouth moves gently against his. But soon enough you’re clinging to him and his body is pressed against yours, the kiss growing more needy and intense.

You knew when things started to get heavy he would stop the both of you from going further, never wanting to push you to discomfort. The furthest you had gone with one another was only third base, but it never went further than that and Seonghwa always left that decision up to you if you wanted to take it there.

You figure if you don’t speak up now, he was going to cut this short, so it’s only then at this very moment do you decide you wanted him to be your first.

“Do you want to have sex?” you blurt out suddenly and you swear you’ve never seen your boyfriend’s eyes go so wide before. 

He opens his mouth to speak but he can’t seem to find the right words to say. “I- um, wait, are you being for real?” he stutters. “I mean, I do want to, but, are you sure you want to?” he asks, still in disbelief from your question.

“Shit, sorry I know that was really sudden to ask, but I do want to.” you assure. “But only if you want to.”

“Of course I want to.” his eyes soften, and his hand finds yours in an instant delivering a comforting squeeze.

“Okay so come here and kiss me again please.” you say quietly.

And just like that, Seongwha’s soft lips land on yours once more. Without breaking apart he gently guides you to the head of his bed, laying you down underneath him as your bodies press up against each other.

You swear you can kiss Seongwha for hours and never grow tired of the feeling. You get drunk off his kisses, unable to think of anything else but him. It’s dizzying really, but you love it. You find that off all the things you love about him its his lips, and how impossibly soft they are and how familiar they feel against your own. How much comfort it would bring you, and how all you had to when you had a bad day was just kiss your boyfriend for however long he let you.

It felt like home.

His lips trailed lower to your neck, littering soft pecks across your skin. Quiet noises escape your lips and Seongwha can’t help but grind against your lower half. His hands travel across your body and the ache between your legs grows by the second, and the only thing you can think of is how much you love him, and need him.

Your mind kind of blurs because the next second you find yourself both naked and he’s fiddling in his drawer to find what you assumed to be a condom. He notices your curious stare as he opens his mouth to speak. “M-my dad told me to keep these in here,” Seongwha stutters. “He said to be prepared in case the time comes, and well, here’s the time I guess.” he laughs lightheartedly and the very sound makes your heart swell. 

“Nice call on Papa Park I guess,” you joke and Seongwha chuckles.

He climbs over you and delivers another peck to your swollen lips. “Okay, no more mention of my dad please when I’m about to put my penis in you.”

“Sorry, sorry.” you chuckle nervously as your boyfriend pulls you in for another kiss. 

"Okay, if it hurts tell me to stop and I will, alright?” his eyes stare deeply into your own.

You nod at him with a small smile, admiring what little of his face you could see in the darkness of his room. “I will, don’t worry.”

“Okay.” he sighs, positioning himself in front of you. “I love you.” he whispers against your lips. 

“I love you more, baby.” you say to him before you feel him push himself inside you. You gasp at the feeling and he stills in his spot to let you adjust. 

And once you signal that it’s okay for him to move, he does at a slow pace, and you gasp at the intense pleasure. Even though the pain has subsided his thrusts are still slow and controlled, and you don’t know if it’s because he’s afraid to hurt you, or if he just wants to revel in the feeling of you around him. Either way your heart fills with love for this one boy. 

“I love you so much, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you  know that?” he whispers in your ear and your eyes shut at his words and the newfound feeling you would grow to love. “and thank you for trusting me right now...” his breathing grows heavy. “because I would do anything for you, and I just want you to know that, okay?”

You almost feel like you could cry because above all the pleasure that you’re experiencing right now, his words feel different, more intimate, and all the more meaningful to you. 

And you believe every word he says because you know he truly means it.

“I would do anything for you too.” you repeat his words back to him and he buries his face into your neck as he continues to thrust into you. 

So at sixteen years old, you have your first time with the love of your life. And you tell yourself that no matter what happens between the both of you, you were never going to regret giving that part of yourself to him. 

At the age of eighteen years old, you do the unthinkable.

You decide after a long and heavy conversation, you two were going to break up. You were both set to leave town to pursue your studies at your dream schools, and you felt that parting ways at this point was the better option.

While you two could figure out a way to make things work while half way across the world from each other, you had to take into account all the factors that would drive you two apart. The time difference, the long distance, the fact that you were inevitably going to meet new people, and that you simply did not want to hold each other back from experiencing a life without one another. 

Because all you’ve known almost your entire life was being with Seonghwa, and him with you. You knew it was only fair to give each other the chance to explore something new, and now was that time.

It wasn’t an easy decision by any means, and although it was an amicable split, you’ve never felt the pain of a broken heart before. It hurt really bad.

Your friends and family decide to throw you both one last goodbye party, wanting to celebrate this special milestone with you. And of course there was no way you and Seonghwa could pass up the last good night you two would have together as a couple.

The party was fun at first. The dancing, the singing, the laughing, and the endless exchange of pictures as you guys shared the last few memories you would have as high school graduates. 

But as the night started to creep in, you both realized that in less than 24 hours, you two would no longer be attached to one another like you had been for the last thirteen years. And after five years as a couple, you still couldn’t believe that your relationship would come to an end, just like that.

You hear the faint music in the background of your house, as you and Seonghwa sit in your backyard, gazing up at the stars.

“This fucking sucks.” Seonghwa sighs, resting his head on your shoulder as you lean your head on top of his. 

“I know.” your throat burns, suppressing the urge to cry. 

“I just didn’t expect this day to come. I never thought we would actually break up with each other.” he admits, and you nod your head in agreement. 

You grab onto his hand rubbing comforting circles onto his skin, and you feel Seonghwa’s body start to shake next to you. You don’t want to look at him because you know if you see him cry, you’ll cry too.

You close your eyes trying to control your heavy breathing and the quivering of your lips. Your eyes are watering but you refuse to let your tears slip, and your heart hurts like it’s never hurt before, and you don’t know if the pain will ever go away.

“Seonghwa I really love you.” your voice breaks and you finally let the tears fall.

“I know, baby.” the pet name has always affected you, but now more than ever it tugs at your heart strings in a bittersweet way. “I really, really love you too. Always.”

“You know you’re the love of my life right? You’re always going to be.” you state and he delivers a squeeze to your hand in acknowledgement.

“And you’ll always be mine.” he answers back. “You’re my best friend in the whole world and the last five years with you as my girlfriend will forever be the greatest five years of my life. I will always stand by the fact that you are the best thing to ever happen to me.”

As you stare at one another with teary eyes, he knows you’re saying the same exact words to him. He doesn’t need to hear you say it, nor does he expect you to. Your eyes say more than enough to him.

You look down at the rose gold band around your finger and you realize how long you’ve kept it on, never once taking it off since that day Seonghwa gave it to you. “Do you want your ring back?” you utter, your eyes watering once more.

Seonghwa shakes his head. “Please keep it. Because I still mean it. And I always will. I’m gonna love you forever, y/n. Even if you decide to take it off, if that’s the last reminder you have of how much I love you, then please keep it.”

Your heart is hurting, and the tears seem never ending as they continue to fall down your cheeks. “I don’t want to leave you Seonghwa.” a sob escapes from your lips, and Seonghwa squeezes your hand again.

“I know, baby but you have to. You’re going to the school you’ve dreamed of going to since you were in the fourth grade. You’re going to accomplish so much and a build a great life for yourself, y/n. And even though I won’t be physically with you, I’m always going to support you every step of the way.” he assures.

You knew in a perfect world you two didn’t have to break up. But long distance was a bitch, and you moving across the world was never going to be easy on him. You couldn’t force each other to wait for the other. Not when the both of you had to start a whole new life separately. You had to let each other go.

You turn to face him, your teary eyes staring into his own. “I’ll always support you too, okay? No matter what. I want you to make the most of your time in Seoul, study hard, surround yourself with good people and have the most fun you’ve ever had. You’re gonna make so many friends and pursue the career you’ve always wanted and experience new things that you’ve never done before. And most of all, you’re going to meet a girl and love her just as much as you loved me. And you’re gonna fall in love all over again, and just be happy. Just promise me that you will make the most of your time over there and live your life to the fullest. Don’t look back, don’t wait for me. Just live until I get to see you again.” your voice breaks. “And if somehow we find our way back to one another, then just know everything we did up to that point was worth it.”

Seonghwa lets out a sob and nods. “I promise.” his voice breaks and you pull him in for your last goodbye kiss.

At nineteen, you visit your hometown for Christmas, which was the first time you’d be back in a year and a half. 

Having missed out on the chance to visit last year with your busy schedule, you made sure not to pass up the chance to see your family and friends. The more you grew accustomed to your new home you managed to find a good balance between school, work, and your personal life, so you found that this year was finally a good time to return back for a visit.

And there was no better time to come home than for Christmas day.

“Yeah, just landed at our layover and waiting for the next flight.” you say to your mother over Facetime.

“That’s great honey, I’m so excited to see you.” she smiles at you and you return the gesture. 

“I missed you mom.” you say.

“And I missed you even more.” 

You two continue conversing amongst one another, as she filled you in on all things you missed while you were gone before a voice interrupts your conversation.

“Hey babe, here.” Juyeon says, handing you a coffee as he presses a small kiss to your forehead.

“Oh thank you.” you murmur with a small smile as your boyfriend sits down next to you.

“Oh hey miss y/l/n!” Juyeon greets seeing your mom’s face plastered on your screen.

“Juyeon!” she squeals excitedly. “I can’t wait to finally meet you in person instead of over video chat. It was about damn time.” she states and you and your boyfriend chuckle. You hand him your phone allowing them to talk with one another and you smile fondly at the newfound bond between Juyeon and your mother.

“I know, I can’t wait to meet all of you guys too! I know y/n’s been really excited, it was all she could talk about for the last three weeks.” he teases. “And she says you make really good pie so i am definitely looking forward to that.”

“That is such an understatement, I make the best pie.” she scoffs. “And I made one specifically for you.” your mother beams.

After a few minutes of playful banter exchanged, Juyeon hands your phone back to you. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom before we board, I’ll be back.” he excuses himself and you nod in acknowledgement. 

“Oh y/n, I just thought I should mention Seonghwa and his family are coming over for Christmas dinner as well.” your mom says and the sheer mention of his name as your heart beating in your chest.

“Oh he’s back in town too?” you ask casually and she nods.

“Yup, he’s also bringing his girlfriend.” she adds.

“That’s great, I’m really happy for him.” you say with a smile.

And you meant it, truly. 

You knew of his girlfriend from the few photos he posted of her on instagram, and he seemed genuinely happy. Aside from his newfound love, he was clearly enjoying his time in Seoul like you had hoped, and it was everything you wished for him. 

You two hadn’t really spoken over the last year, and it wasn’t really on purpose, you two just kind of drifted, as expected. You two were starting fresh in an unfamiliar place, and you both were finding your way around your new homes. You two were also preoccupied with school, and meeting new people so it was sort of inevitably really that you two grew apart. Of course there were the few times you two would chat, but it never lasted long due to time differences and busy schedules. 

Although you missed him immensely, you were beyond happy for the life he started for himself, and you knew he was happy for you too. He did exactly what he promised you the last night you spent together, and that was enough to make you happy.

“Flight 219 now boarding.” the announcer calls and Juyeon meets you right on time.

“Okay mom, that’s us. I’ll see you in a few hours, bye, love you.” you bid your farewell before hanging up, and Juyeon grabs your hand leading you to the gate.

“Ready to go home?” he smiles at you, and you beam excitedly, nodding your head.

As the days pass leading up to Christmas, you spend all of your of time with your family and friends, using every second to catch up with your loved ones. You find that Juyeon is adapting well to your home life, bonding with your father and making your mother love him even more than she already did. You introduce him to your childhood friends and he instantly wins over Mingi, Hongjoong, Yunho and Jennie. You admire how much of an effort he put into forming a friendship with them because he knew how much it meant to you.

You were thankful really, to find a guy who was almost perfect for you.

But still, in the back of your mind, even though you loved Juyeon beyond belief, you knew Seonghwa would always have that special place in your heart.

On the day of Christmas, you and Juyeon set the table as you await the Park’s arrival. You were slightly nervous, obviously, given the fact that you had not seen Seonghwa in over a year and you would be meeting his girlfriend. Although you were happy for him, you still felt anxious to see him and her, and you could only hope that she was good for him, because he deserved that much. 

Only a few moments later do you hear a knock at your door and your mother walks over to greet your longtime neighbours. Juyeon stands next to you as he wraps an arm around your waist comfortingly and you relax against him. 

You see Mrs. Park first as she walks inside, giving your mother a friendly hug. Mr. Park follows suit as he greets your mother and your father with a wide smile on his face.

And then you see him.

His hair is slightly darker and he does look a little older. But other than that his face is so familiar to you and your heart beats wildly in your chest as the two of you make eye contact. His face softens when he sees you and you deliver a small wave to him as he smiles. His girlfriend trails behind him and you take notice of how beautiful she was. You smile at her too and she returns the gesture and your heart kind of warms seeing how shy she is because you always kind of knew Seonghwa would pick someone similar to him.

“Oh my y/n, how long has it been!” Mrs. Park calls towards you and you hug her tightly. 

“I missed you!” you say to her and her arms wrap tighter around you.

“I missed you too, darling. And you look even more beautiful than the last time I saw you!” she compliments. “And who is this handsome man?”

“This is Juyeon, he’s my boyfriend.” you smile, and Juyeon shakes her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Park. Y/n’s talked a lot about your family.” he says politely.

“Y/n’s picked a good one, I see.” she winks playfully as you notice Seonghwa and his girlfriend make their way towards you two.

“Hey y/n, long time no see.” Seonghwa says and you almost melt at the sound of his voice. He pulls you in for a hug and you notice how he still wears the same cologne that you had bought him all those years ago.

“Yeah, it’s good to see you again.” you smile at him, and although it had been well over a year since you two last saw each other, there was no hint of awkwardness, just nostalgia.

“Oh, this is Juyeon.” you introduce and Seonghwa delivers a warm smile to your boyfriend, shaking his hand respectfully.

“Nice to meet you.” Juyeon smiles.

“It’s nice to meet you too, I’m Seonghwa. Y/n’s... childhood friend.” he decides to say.

“I know she’s mentioned you a lot in her stories.” your boyfriend acknowledges. “From all the things she told me you were one of the people I was looking forward to meet the most. You seemed really great to her.”

“I could only hope so. She was my best friend after all.” Seonghwa glances at you, and you know there’s a deeper meaning behind his words. “And you seem like a really great guy, so I’m glad she has good people in her life.” Seonghwa returns and you find it heartwarming how well their exchange is going.

You look at the girl beside your ex and she’s staring at you with gentle, curious eyes. “Hi, I’m y/n.” you smile at her, extending your hand out for her to shake.

“Rosé,” she beams at you and you don’t even really know her but there was something about her that assured you she was good fit for Seonghwa. “I heard a lot about you as well, Hwa’s always talking about his life back home so I’m really glad I got to meet his best friend. You were really special to him.”

You smile softly. “I’m glad I got to meet you too.” you say.

“Okay, time for dinner everyone!” your father announces and you all take a seat at the table, passing over plates of food and catching up with one another.

“So Seonghwa, how’s Seoul treating you?” your mother asks as everyone turns their attention towards him.

“Uh really good actually,” he responds. “I joined a band actually! Uh, I became friends with these really nice guys. San and Yeosang. They basically recruited me after they found out I could sing and now we play at this local bar every week on Friday’s and Saturday’s. It was really good for me, I think. It helped with my stress and stuff. And that’s actually where I met Rosé.”

“That’s amazing.” your mother comments with a warm smile.

“Yeah he was really shy at first but San kind of forced him to talk to me which I was really thankful for because I was eyeing him for a while and was too shy myself to approach him.” Rosé says. “I still remember the night he asked for my number and he was stumbling over his words and I swear he looked like he was going to pass out.” she chuckles, and everyone at the table laughs along with her.

“Oh my god I know what you mean, he also cracks his fingers a lot and starts to turn really purple when he’s nervous.” you add and Rosé points at you nodding in agreement.

“Yes! I notice that all the time!” she laughs, and you can’t help but laugh with her.

“Trust me, I have the most embarrassing stories of him when we were kids.” you say.

“Oh god, you have to tell me all of them.” Rosé giggles.

“Obviously, we have the whole night for that.” you wink at her, and you realize how easy and natural it was to talk to her, and that confirmed that you indeed really liked her. 

Seonghwa watches the exchange between you both, and as you two make eye contact with each other, a small smile appears on his face as you nod at him, silently approving of the girl he chose to bring home for this special day. His heart grows full seeing how well the two of you got along, and he’s forever grateful at how amazing of a person you were that you were so willingly to form a friendship with his new girlfriend.

Although he loved Rosé dearly, there was still a piece of his heart where he’d always love you. And that piece grows a little more when he realizes how you continue to support him, even through this unconventional situation. 

Seonghwa decides he’s going to do the same for you, because just like you were happy for him, he was happy for you too. 

Of course he was glad you found someone who could put a smile on your face like he once did, and he knows that for you to have willingly dated Juyeon, he had to have been just as great as you were. You always had the best judgement of people.

“So Juyeon, how’d you and y/n meet?” Seonghwa asks genuinely and he notices the way his face lights up at the mention of your name.

“We had a lot of mutual friends and they introduced us. It’s funny actually, I could tell y/n didn’t even really like me that much at first, she was always so disinterested when I would try and talk to her.” Juyeon laughs.

“Probably stressing too much about trivial things.” Seonghwa chuckles.

“Yeah she does that a lot, so overly anxious all the time” Juyeon notes, and Seonghwa agrees. 

“Hey,” you interrupt and Juyeon apologizes.

“Sorry babe,” he chuckles. "but yeah, I finally sweet talked my way to get her to go out on a coffee date with me and then the next day she asked to go out for lunch after our lecture. We kind of just ended up hanging out more often and well, the rest is history I guess.”

“That’s great, I’m really glad she found someone that makes her happy.” Seonghwa smiles, and you feel a sense of gratitude towards him.

The rest of the night your families converse with one another and share a few drinks, as you and Seonghwa share old stories with Juyeon and Rosé. If you told yourself three years ago that you would be sitting by the fireplace on Christmas day with you and Seonghwa as exes exchanging stories with your new lovers, you would’ve never believed it. 

But you don’t think it’s a bad thing at all. In fact you’re immensely grateful that despite not being as close to Seonghwa anymore, you were able to see each other grow and adapt with your new lives. A life where you made new friends and made new memories. Where you tried things you’ve never tried before, and explored new places. And where you could love other people and still be so insanely happy for one another. 

This was a good thing.

At one point during the night the two of you find yourselves alone, a comfortable silence filling the room as you stared at the fire in front of you, basking in its warmth.

“I missed you.” Seonghwa is the first to break the silence.

“I missed you too.” you return. “And I’m really happy for you, you know?” 

“I’m really happy for you too, y/n.” Seonghwa smiles at you. “And I really like Juyeon. He seems really great, and he makes you happy, I can see it. That’s all I ever wanted for you.”

You hum in acknowledgement. “And I think Rosé is amazing. She’s perfect for you. And I’m forever grateful that you two have each other. I know we’ve drifted over the last year, but you’re still my best friend in the whole world. And even though I don’t say it often, or even out loud, I’m supporting you through everything. As long as it makes you happy that’s all I care about.”

His heart warms at your statement and he locks eyes with you. “And you know I’m always supporting you too. Seeing you happy and thriving is the best thing that’s ever happened to you. It’s all I want for you.” he states.

Neither of you have to say it, but you know this is your unspoken way of saying that you both still loved each other greatly. You still stood by the fact that Seonghwa was, and always would be the most important person in your life, and you in his. Seeing one another content and happy despite not having each other around anymore, was the one thing that mattered to you both. The maturity and support you continued to show was only because of the immense love you have, and have always had for one another. 

The kind of love that lets you give up the person you love the most so they can have a better life without you. 

And the kind of love that’s okay with it.

At twenty-one years old, you and Seonghwa meet again.

It’s during one of your breaks where you find yourself extremely homesick. You don’t even give your family a heads up until you’re outside your childhood home knocking at your door.

It was an impulsive decision but it’s not like you were currently in school. You had the time and the money, and you missed your hometown so incredibly bad that it only took you one second to make that decision to come back.

“Coming, one second!” you hear a male voice call behind the door and your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Well, that’s is definitely not my mom, or dad.” you say to yourself. “Did they move out without telling me or something-” your internal conversation is cut short as the door swings open and you’re greeted by an unexpected figure.

“Y/n?” the boy says in surprise.

“Seonghwa??” you say even more confused. 

“Who’s at the door Seonghwa?” now that’s your mother’s voice you hear and she gasps as she walks over to the door. “Y/n! Oh my god why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?!” she pulls you into her arms.

“Surprise.” you chuckle. “I kind of sort of felt really homesick and impulsively bought a plane ticket last night so I could fly back so... here I am.”

“Well come settle in! Seonghwa was just helping with some renovations in the house but I’ll let you two catch up.” your mother grabs your luggage, carrying it up to your bedroom. “Go grab a coffee or something!” she yells upstairs.

You look over to Seonghwa and he shrugs. “Let’s go then.” he smiles and your heart swells.

The two of you walk comfortably beside one another as you take in the scenery around you, missing the familiar place you once called home. 

“I didn’t know you were back in town too.” you say after a few moments of silence.

“Yeah, it was pretty impulsive too actually.” he admits as he looks at you. 

“What was your reason?” you ask curiously.

“Break up.” he states and your mouth falls open.

“Wait, you and Rosé...” 

He nods. “Yeah, things just kinda, fizzled out. You know, we grew apart, wanted different things, came to a point where we were in different stages in our life.”

“Oh wow.” is all you say. “I’m sorry to hear, she was really sweet. I really liked her.”

“Yeah, she was,” Seonghwa sighs. “I mean, we ended on good terms. We’re still friends, actually. I don’t even think I’m necessarily sad about it to be honest, it’s just different, you know? Like I know we weren’t even dating for that long, like two and a half years at most. But I just got so used to being around her and spending so much time with her, and then things just weren’t really the same after a while. It just felt odd not having someone. And being alone made me miss everything I had here so I came back.”

You nod your head in understanding. “Yeah, I totally get what you mean.”

Seonghwa raises his eyebrow at you. “You mean... you and Juyeon too?”

“Mhm,” you hum. “I think for us we just realized we were better off as friends than as a couple, you know? Like after a while the attraction kind of went away and we were only really together because it was comfortable. And we didn’t want to stay together if we weren’t in love anymore, it wouldn’t have made sense. The break up was easy and it felt right when we ended things, I kind of wish it happened sooner but, I was still thankful for the time we spent together. He is still one of my best friends so I’m grateful for that at least.”

“That’s good.” he smiles softly. 

“Hey at least we both can confidently say we have a track record of smooth break ups, right?” you joke lightheartedly.

“Thank god for that.” Seonghwa says with a laugh.

When you two enter the coffee shop you’re once again hit with a feeling of nostalgia as you think of all the times you, Seonghwa, and your friends would spend most days after school, drinking hot chocolate and eating pastries together as you all talked for hours and hours.

“I’ll get our usuals, you can wait by our spot.” Seonghwa offers, and you nod making your way towards your designated table. 

The moment you sit down you’re hit with a wave of flashbacks you shared in this very space, and a small smile creeps onto your face as you look back on all the old memories. 

After your brief moment of reminiscing, Seongwha sits across from you handing over your cup. 

“Sometimes you don’t realize how much you miss home until you’re actually back in all the places you grew up in,” you note as you take notice of the small engraving in the corner of the table marked with yours and all your friends’ initials. Your fingers ghost over the mark and when you look up at Seongwha you see that he’s also eyeing the engraving. 

“I remember when we put that there,” he recalls with a smile. “After five years of coming here and sitting at this same exact table with our friends we claimed our ownership by putting that stupid engraving that took us forever to do. As if that stopped people from sitting here anyways.” you both chuckled.

“Well at least Jennie and Hongjoong were brave enough to kick out the people who stole our spot.” you laugh.

“Yeah,” Seonghwa smiles fondly at the memory. “I still remember the days where Mingi and Yunho would bet the barista on how many butter croissants they could eat in one sitting so we could all get a supply of free hot chocolate for a year.”

“And it was only after Mingi threw up everywhere that it turned out all we had to do was ask her, and she would’ve done it anyways because we were regulars here.” you finish with a soft chuckle.

A comfortable silence fills the air as you two reminisce on the old memories of your teenage years.

“Can I ask you something?” Seonghwa says.

“Of course.”

“When you finish university,” he starts. “What are you gonna do afterwards? Like do you plan on living abroad permanently? Or are you gonna come back home?”

You pause for a second. “Honestly, after the first year there, I fell in love with the city. And I truly was planning on starting my life there and making that my permanent home, ‘cause I had Juyeon, and I had my new friends, I had jobs lined up for me after graduation, and just an overall great home.” you say. “But after splitting up with him, and sitting with the fact that I was constantly homesick, I kinda realized that this is my home, you know? Like, no matter how much I loved my new friends, and loved the city, it would never be as special to me as here. Nothing over there compared to everything I have here. And I knew you were gonna come back from Seoul after graduation, and Jennie and Yunho were gonna come back from New Zealand too. And Mingi and Hongjoong, and the rest of them were all still here... I didn’t want to be the only one gone. All my real friends are here, my family’s here... you’re here. I didn’t want to leave that all behind.” you exclaim and Seonghwa’s face softens.

“I’m really glad honestly.” he responds. “Because I missed you a lot. And it would’ve really sucked to know you weren’t gonna be here anymore when I moved back. I just really miss spending time with my best friend.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Well, you have the next two weeks to do that.” you smile up at him.

“I have an idea.” his eyes light up and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Do you wanna have a sleepover tonight? We can have a move night and order take out like the good old times.” he grins at you.

“You had me at sleepover.” you say with a smile and so he grabs your hand, pulling you towards the exit.

When Seonghwa lets you into his house you almost forget the fact that you haven’t been inside in almost three whole years. This was practically your second home and you found comfort in the fact that nothing really changed since you last saw it. Everything looked almost exactly how you remembered it, minus the new couch and dining table, and a few new paintings hung up on the walls.

“Your mom didn’t change much over the last few years.” you observe.

“Yeah, she was going to do a whole renovation like your mom, and she even planned a whole design out, but she opted out last minute. She said she wanted me to come back home to something I remembered.” Seonghwa answers. “I didn’t get why at first but it only started making sense to me the more I started visiting and realized this was like my safety net.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” you say.

You and Seonghwa walk upstairs to his bedroom, and of course nothing changed inside either. It almost seemed like it had been untouched aside from the fresh bedsheets and clean floor. You notice the small picture frames neatly placed across his dresser table and you realize most of them are pictures with you. You pick one frame up as you remember the day so clearly. A faint smile forms on your face as your fingers ghost over the photo.

“I asked my mom to put those up again recently.” Seonghwa states from behind you. “I was gonna put more with our friends but I realized we didn’t take many with them. They were mostly just of us two. I hope you don’t think it’s weird.”

You shake your head. “No, of course not. I would never think it’s weird.” you say, placing the frame back onto his dresser.

Seonghwa tosses you one of his shirts and a pair of your old shorts that you always left at his house during your impromptu sleepovers. And suddenly you’re once again hit with a wave of nostalgia. 

“What do you wanna do?” he asks and you flop onto his bed with a deep exhale.

“Let’s just lay here for a second.” you say pulling him down next to you. “I just wanna remember everything that I missed while I was gone.” 

Seonghwa settles beside you and you can’t help your racing heart as he inches closer to you. As you lay next to one another looking up at the ceiling, your breathing relaxes and you revel in the feeling of just being so comfortable and at so at home. 

“You don’t know how much I missed this,” Seonghwa whispers next to you. “even though we haven’t seen each other in years and we don’t talk as much anymore, when I’m with you it’s like we never even left each other. Like we just pick up right where we left off. You’re the one person who’s always brought me comfort and I never feel like we have to force things with each other, no matter how much we drifted.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks and suddenly the room feels so much warmer. Your heart beats fast and you realize how much of an effect Seonghwa still has on you after all these years.

“I think about you everyday, you know that?” you confess, turning your head to look at him. “Every time I’m out somewhere there will always be little things that remind me of you. And I think about all the places in the city I would take you, and the places I know you would love. I think about all the things you would tell me when I was feeling down, and how you would react to certain situations as if you were right there beside me the whole time. I miss you all the time.”

You both stare at one another and your eyes flicker back and forth to his lips and when you look into his own eyes you notice him doing the same. After a moment of just staring into each other’s eyes, unsure of what to do next, Seonghwa pulls you towards his face and kisses you, and the feeling absolutely overwhelms you in all the good ways.

It’s far from soft and sweet, instead heavy and messy, and so intense that your chest burns with desire. You don’t dare pull away from him even when you needed to catch your breath, because the feeling of his lips on yours after all these years intoxicates you and has you yearning for more. He’s pulling you closer to him and you feel like your body is on fire. 

Seonghwa rolls on top of you and your bodies mould perfectly with one another, as if you were both the two missing pieces of a puzzle. You can’t exactly describe the feeling but it’s overwhelming and very reminiscent and brings you back to all the times with Seonghwa that brought you so much happiness years ago. It’s a feeling you didn’t know if you would ever feel again and you missed it more than anything.

The ache between your legs becomes overwhelming and before you know it you’re begging him to touch you, and without any hesitation he does. Your bodies press tightly against each other and your desperate need for him only grows the moment he grinds down on you. 

The next thing you know, you’re both unclothed and fully exposed to one another, and you see each other in your most vulnerable states for the first time in years. When he finally pushes himself inside you the pleasure is significantly magnified as the fire inside you only intensifies at the feeling of him.

It happens quick at first but Seonghwa decides he wants to take his time with you. Like you, he didn’t know if he would ever feel you in this way again and he was going to use every second with you that he could.

You don’t know how much time has passed but by the end, you both are exhausted and sore, and panting heavily next to each other. It’s dark outside and the room is warm and even though you’re both sweaty and gross, you haven’t felt this good in a long, long time. 

“Was that okay?” Seonghwa asks, pulling your naked body into his arms.

“Yeah,” you say with a small smile. “It was perfect.”

So you lay in each other’s embrace for a while and your heart feels warm and fuzzy, bringing you an endless amount of comfort. You feel content at this very moment, and your worries are pushed to the back of your mind as you fall asleep soundly together.

It’s only at 2 o’clock in the morning do you wake up in a haze and through your fatigued confusion does your brain recall the events that took place a few hours ago. Unable to make out your surroundings in the darkness, your eyes widen not knowing if what happened earlier really happened. When you attempt to sit up you feel a pair of arms wrapped securely around your waist and your body relaxes. Soft snores escape Seonghwa’s lips and you snuggle closer to his body to feel his warmth.

It dawns on you that you still are very much in love with Seonghwa, and of course deep down you knew that you always would be. You also knew given the chance (like now) your feelings would resurface because well... they never really left in the first place.

The unknowingness of this outcome has you shifting in your spot and anxiety creeps in as you think of leaving him all over again. Because after tonight, you don’t know if you can bear the thought of parting ways with him and returning to your life abroad where you can’t tell him exactly how you feel.

You don’t realize right away that Seonghwa has woken up next to you and he only does so because of your constant shifting. It’s when he delivers a gentle squeeze to your waist do you finally take notice.

“Are you okay?” his voice his deep and tired and the sound is enough to make your heart beat fast.

“Yeah.” you reply unconvincingly, but Seonghwa has known you all his life and was also the one to date you for five whole years. He knew you better than you probably knew yourself so in an instant he could tell there was something bothering you.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks.

Your back is leaning against his chest, and you can feel his soft breathing on your neck, and instinctively he starts to rub small circles on your arm knowing that was the one thing that could calm you down.

“It’s stupid.” you say, your voice is quiet and laced with a hint of embarrassment.

“Do you regret what we did?” Seonghwa asks and you’re quick to shut down his claim.

“No! No, of course not.” you return. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” 

You exhale, letting out a heavy sigh. “Seonghwa I still love you.” it’s almost inaudible to him but he knows he heard you correctly. 

He lets out a soft sigh and a smile smiles forms on his face.

“I still love you too, baby.” and when you hear him call you by the name you loved so much, you feel like you’re going to melt in his arms. “I always would remember?”

Your eyes start to water because it’s been so long since you’ve been able to say that to him, and to hear him say those same exact words back to you has a weight lifting right off your shoulders that you didn’t even know was there.

“Why’s that upsetting you?” he questions and you feel him press soft kisses to your shoulder.

“I don’t want to leave you all over again.” you admit. 

He sighs next you and attempts to pull you even closer, if that were possible.

“Well we’ll spend the rest of the time we have together and enjoy every second of it. And after graduation we’ll come back home and we’ll pick up right where we left off like we always do.” Seonghwa tries to reassure you and you shake your head, sniffling.

“That’s not what I mean...” you say. “I mean that I don’t want to go back and not be with you. I don’t want to wait out till graduation and know that we aren’t together because I don’t think I can. Not after tonight.”

It clicks in Seonghwa’s brain and he knows exactly what you mean, and so he decides now’s the time to ask you what he’s been wishing to ask you for so many years. He knows he wasn’t supposed to wait for you, but he always knew he would.

“You don’t have to then.” he states.

“I don’t?”

“Do you want to get back together?” he asks and your heart almost stops. “I mean we only broke up ‘cause of the distance right? And we both fulfilled our promises to each other that we would experience a different life and learn what it was like to not be together. We’re in our last year of uni, we’d only have to be apart for a few more months and then we’ll both be back home in no time, permanently. We would never have to be apart again.” he reasons with you.

And it did make complete sense. He was right in every way, so in truth, there really wasn’t anything stopping you from being together again. You don’t have to think much about it because the decision was already made deep down. You knew you wouldn’t hesitate to be with Seonghwa again if you had the chance, and now was that chance.

You turn to face him and even though you two can’t see each other, there’s a small smile painted on both your faces and you lean in to press a kiss to his lips. 

“Okay, let’s get back together.”

So at twenty-one years old, you and Seonghwa officially reconcile, and spend the next two weeks together like you planned, catching up on everything you did while you two were apart.

And just like he said, it was like you two never left each other.

And now, at twenty-two years old, Seonghwa pops the question.

And you finally marry him.

"Family, friends, and all loved ones. We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Y/n and Seonghwa. We stand here to support this couple and share the joys of their love and commitment as they solidify this partnership, choosing to spend the rest of their lives together.” 

“Through this marriage you make a lifelong promise to one another to always love, respect, trust and honor each other through anything, and everything. You promise to stay committed, and loyal, and most importantly, share your dreams, your happiness, and your sorrows with each other.” 

“From today, and this moment on, you will forever be united as one.”

You stare at Seonghwa and your heart beats hard against your chest as you stand in front of him watching his eyes light up and his smile grow by the second. You feel like you’re in a dream and everything around you feels so surreal.

Your eyes scan the alter and you see your mother beside Mrs. Park, both of them clinging onto each other as tears of happiness running down their cheeks. Their smile is wide and filled with so much love and you knew this day was something the two have been waiting for, for as long as they could remember. 

You see Mingi, and Yunho, and Hongjoong, and Jennie, your best friends who witnessed every progression of your relationship with Seonghwa from the moment you two met. They’re all grinning from ear to ear and you can’t help but laugh as they silently cheer you on from the pews.

You see your dad, and Seonghwa’s dad, and both of your grandparents, and the entirety of yours and Seonghwa’s family joined together as they smile brightly at the two of you.

And then your eyes meet with Rosé and Juyeon as they mouth a “you got this!” to you and Seonghwa, delivering a thumbs up in your direction, and your heart kind of warms because even after splitting up, the friendship between you four remained and it was evident through their support on this special day.

When your eyes lock with your soon-to-be-husband his lips quirk up into a warm smile as you mouth out an “i love you.”

“Now Y/n, Seonghwa, please join hands” the officiant states.

"Do you, Park Seonghwa take Y/N Y/L/N to be your wife?” 

“I do.” he states softly, eyes gazing into yours.

"And Y/N Y/L/N, do you take Park Seonghwa to be your husband?”

“I do.” you respond beaming.

"Seonghwa, please repeat after me.” the officiant says. “I, Park Seonghwa, take thee, Y/N Y/L/N, to be my lawfully wedded wife.” 

“I Park Seonghwa, take thee, Y/n Y/l/n, to be my lawfully wife...” he repeats.

"...To have and to hold from this day forward...”

“...For better for worse...”

 “For richer for poorer...”

“...In sickness and in health...”

“...To love and to cherish...”

“...And to honour you all the days of my life...”

“Till death do us apart.” Seonghwa finishes and your eyes start to water.

“Now, Y/n, please repeat after me.” the officiant calls on you. “I, Y/N Y/LN, take thee, Park Seonghwa, to be my lawfully wedded husband.”

You exhale before repeating his words. ““I, Y/N Y/LN, take thee, Park Seonghwa, to be my lawfully wedded husband.”

"...To have and to hold from this day forward...”

“...For better for worse...”

“For richer for poorer...”

“...In sickness and in health...”

“...To love and to cherish...”

“...And to honour you all the days of my life...”

“Till death do us apart.”

As Jennie walks over to hand over the rings she smiles brightly at you, as the crowd watches you and Seonghwa each place the new band on your fingers, signifying the start of your lifelong commitment to one another. 

“Well! By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife!” the officiant shouts with a smile. “You may now kiss the bride!”

And without a second wasted Seonghwa pulls you in kissing you like he’s never kissed you before and the loud shouts and cheers in the background fills your ears as everyone hollers around you. And when you pull away you can’t seem to wipe the smile off your face as Seonghwa carries you out of the alter.

“Here’s to our new life together, Mrs. Park.” Seonghwa says with a grin as you kiss him once more.

“I love you so much.” you say.

“And I love you even more.” he returns.

So at twenty-two years old you know that you’re never going to stop loving Seonghwa, and that love was made permanent by the unity of your marriage. From the moment you declared him as your boyfriend at the age of six, to the years you spent learning everything together as a couple, growing apart and reuniting, you know that this was a rare kind of love to find, and one that had to mature and progress over a long period of time. 

And so you remember the words you said to him all those years ago the night you parted ways, “if somehow we find our way back to one another, then just know everything we did up to that point was worth it.”

Which stayed true four and a half years later, and for the rest of your life thereafter.

LA FIN.

#park seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa one shot #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa imagines #seonghwa angst #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa smut #ateez #ateez one shot #ateez reactions #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez smut #kpop #thekpopnetwork #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #8 ways of love

[woeisme-iamwoe]

an absolutely massive Haikyuu!! fic rec pt. 2

IwaOi this time around. My favorite ship. The world’s favorite ship...there’s so many

Undecipherable, by ioo (4k. G. canonverse)

 I’m pretty sure the author meant ‘indecipherable’, nevertheless! I am appalled that this work doesnt have more hits. Y'all are sleeping on it and that's not okay. 

The sound of the door slamming against the wall has Hajime startling back to the present. He looks at the source of the disturbance and finds himself face to face with Oikawa, red in the face with breathlessness and a leather-bound notebook tightly clutched in both of this hands. When he spots Hajime, he makes a beeline for the bench and slaps it down right next to him.

"Koi no yokan," he says. "The sense one can have upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love."

 primavera, by tothemoon (8k. T. canonverse)

All of tothemoon’s works read so beautifully 

They say it takes twenty-six years, for certain breeds to fully bloom. 

Learning to Walk (So That We Can Run), by ricekrispyjoints (27k. M. canon-divergence)

I've read this work so many times. Like, so many times and I’ve never tired from it. Gorgeous. The shift from friendship to romance felt so natural, love it. 

"I'm not healing like I should be."

In his second year of university, physical therapy just isn't cutting it. Oikawa's knee is getting worse, and he can't hide it anymore.

Or: the light angst, project-your-own-life-experiences-on-Oikawa knee surgery fic you didn't know you wanted.

 Priorities, by weirdmilk (2k. T. canonverse)

Kissy, kissy. 

‘I just -’ Oikawa begins, ‘it might be difficult to get married, sometimes, I think.’ He chews on his lip.

Iwaizumi makes a questioning noise.

‘Ah,’ Oikawa says, and then, in a rush, ‘if I didn't want a wife at all - what then? If I said that to you. If I told you I can’t see it. Like - the wedding dress. The bride. I just can’t see it.’

Iwaizumi swallows again, his heart beating much faster than the conversation warrants. He wonders whether Oikawa can hear it. ‘You’re eighteen. You aren’t supposed to see it yet.’ He snorts. ‘I mean - if we’re sharing shit, I’ve never even kissed a girl.’ He doesn’t mind admitting it. It’s not something that bothers him - he’s never prioritised girls very highly, and despite Oikawa’s largely undeserved status as Miyagi’s most eligible teenage bachelor, he doesn’t think Oikawa has ever wanted a serious relationship with any of his fan club, either.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi can't sleep before their first practice match with Karasuno.

 Before Midnight, by fathomfive (2k. G. canonverse)

Reads like a fairytale. 

The sky turns, the seasons turn over, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa track the movements of the stars. Nothing is ever quite constant, but it's close enough.

The grass is stiff with frost. They walk in silence past the raked-over vegetable garden and up the back hill, footsteps crackling, and stand side-by-side at the top of an incline that used to seem much bigger. Iwaizumi glances over but Oikawa’s already gone, eyes searching the sky with no hint of hurry, just a kind of reverent patience.

 make a bet, keep a promise, by raewrites (13k. M. canonverse)

Bet still on. 

Sometimes, in still moments, Iwaizumi wonders why out of all the people on earth he ended up with Oikawa Tooru. Why it’s his face that lingers on his fading conscious in the last moments before he falls asleep, in the first blurry seconds upon waking up again. Why when he looks to his side, he expects Oikawa to be there in the same way he expects to see five fingers on both hands, a natural extension of himself, ever present.

Why he can’t imagine a future without Oikawa in it.

It begins with a bet made between the two boys in the mid-summer of their eighth year. It starts with volleyball, but like with most things involving Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime, things are never quite that simple.

 our hearts still beat the same, by knightswatch  

 two birds, by thelittlebirdthattoldyou (5k. T. canonverse)

Of heartbreaking letters and paper crane wishes. 

Five months into the term, two months after he’s stopped replying to Oikawa’s texts, the first package arrives. A small square box, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, and Hajime almost trips over it on the way to his dorm.

There’s a letter attached.

Oikawa doesn’t know how many times he’ll have to put his feelings down on paper before Iwaizumi believes them. 

Through My Eyes, by anchoringsouls (2k. G. canonverse)

Okay! Okay, we were doing great with the soft, happy love up until the last part! That's great, just great!

“I think if you ever saw yourself through my eyes, you would fall in love with yourself the same way the way I did with you.” 

in time it could be ours, by deusreks (3k. T. canonverse)

Anyone wanna go back in time and make a time capsule with me only to dig it up years later and we’re actually in love?

Set post Seijou's match with Karasuno. There's a moderate amount of rolling in the dirt. No pajamas were hurt in the writing of this fic.

There, in their joint backyard, was Oikawa Tooru, clad in his silly luminescent space pajamas, digging a hole near a cherry tree.

“What the hell, Oikawa.”

Tooru stubbornly continued digging. He looked pitiful in that moment; everything that was grand about him in daylight was meaningless in the darkness. He was only a boy with a shovel whose broken heart mirrored Hajime’s own.

 we can do better than that, by spaceburgers (16k. M. canonverse)

Of course, of course, the IwaOi road trip fic. AnD thErE wAs ONly OnE bED!

Oikawa and Iwaizumi go on a road trip during the summer after their high school graduation. It doesn't go as expected, but maybe that's not such a bad thing after all. 

They Say it Rains Diamonds on Jupiter, by exsao (35k. T. canonverse)

I don't know, just gorgeous. Hajime’s so in love. 

"You're in love with him."

Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.

"Yeah," he says instead.

He's never been good at lying, anyway.

 Midnight boys/sunset town, by carafin (10k words. T. Housemates AU):

The author says they played off of the fact that Oikawa oftentimes forgoes his sleep in order to work, and wrote it so that he doesn't sleep at all. This was so cute, kinda sad, mostly not. Love how Iwaizumi just goes along with whatever crazy stilch Oikawa is on. 

In which Iwaizumi Hajime grows a few chili plants, participates in an eating contest, breaks into a park, and falls in love with a man who doesn't ever sleep - not exactly in that order.

5 Reasons Why Iwaizumi Hajime's Flatmate Is A Complete Weirdo (An Incomplete List)

1. He's obsessed with that stupid bucket list of his.

2. He's the proud owner of seven truly ugly, criminally hideous movie posters with aliens on them, which he insists on pasting all over the damn living room.

3. He's always stealing Hajime's sweatshirts.

4. Sometimes, he wakes Hajime up for breakfast. At 5AM. On Saturday mornings.

5. He literally never, ever sleeps.

 The Best I Ever Had, by FindingSchmomo (62k words. T. Canon-divergent):

You’ve read it, your mum’s read it, your dog has probably read it (you really need to take facial recognition for him off your phone, he’s got some weird nighttime habits). So basically this fic caused me physical pain and then pumped me full of morphine and now I’m good! Beautiful read, hated Oikawa for a while, Iwaizumi is the only boy I would ever feel safe alone with. 

A story of separation and time lost. Oikawa and Iwaizumi lose contact, and life goes on. Now, a decade later and back in Japan, Oikawa wonders if he can pick the pieces back together, despite knowing Iwaizumi has moved on. A story of their past, present and future, pieced together by shaky hands.

 darlin', your head's not on right, by aruariandance (13k words. T. canonverse)

Again, I’m pretty sure anybody who's anybody has read this fic and for good reason! Super sweet realizing you're in love fic. Makes me reconsider wanting to get married. 

'“Our wedding,” Oikawa says by way of explanation, tapping his finger against his magazine more emphatically. “What colors should we use? Color scheme is important, apparently.”

Iwaizumi feels his lifespan shortening.

“I was thinking our Aoba johsai colors to go for more, you know, softer tones? Besides, I’ve always looked great in that sea foam green color. Oh, and I guess you look decent in it, too.” He grins, saccharine sweet, and Iwaizumi has never been so tempted to knock one of his perfect pearly white teeth right out of his stupid mouth."

or,

Oikawa teases Iwaizumi about a childhood promise he made to marry him when they were older, except suddenly it's not really a joke at all.

 the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle, by kittebasu (66k. T. canon divergent)

Is this one of the most famous Iwaoi fic? I don’t know. Looks like it, I know it's my personal favorite. Where Oikawa studies bugs for a living and can’t seem to come to terms with his feelings. Very angsty, love that in a fic. 

Tooru is pretty sure he could manage the mating habits of a mosquito. It’s the mating habits of people he can’t seem to get right.

 Terrarium, by sausaged (11k. T. Post-canon)

Honestly, I’m so surprised this fic doesnt have more hits! It’s so good! Made me ache! I love the memories and character growth shown through the growing of the terrarium, absolutely adore that kind of symbolism. So beautiful, give it some love because it's one of my absolute favorites. 

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

 A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

 Lips like sugar, by ohhotlamb (8k. T. canonverse)

Why did my childhood best friend never offer to help me practice kissing only for us to realize we were only interested in each other? I had a fake high school experience. 

Hajime is offered to learn the art of kissing from a true professional, one Oikawa Tooru. It's not as bad as he thought it would be.

 Falling Slowly, by bravely (commovente) (3k. T. canonverse)

So special, imagine loving one person, and one person only like this for the entirety of your life. This is getting too sappy, I want off of this ride. 

over the years, some things change; but over the years, some things stay mostly the same.

(alternatively, mornings with oikawa and iwaizumi over the years).

 No sleep in the city, by loveclouds (7k. T. canonverse)

Mass/volume = Iwaizumi, apparently. (Please. If anyone gets this absolutely horrific joke, lets elope).

Along their journey to find Tokyo's best ramen, Iwaizumi finds himself asked again and again why Oikawa is still single.

 Time, by surveycorpsjean (5k. E. canonverse)

Growing older together. 

When they're twenty-three, their story only begins.

 Everything With You, by Ellessey (14k. E. canonverse)

Came damn near to crying, you can just feel Iwaizumi’s pain. Fight scene was probably the most emotion evoking one I’ve read in a long while. 

‘Hajime still loves Oikawa, but he understands now. Oikawa can't look at him and see someone he could potentially date.

And that makes it easier to not focus on the little things that used to drive him crazy—Oikawa's long legs, the way he's always hanging off of Hajime, how his whole face changes when he gets ready for a jump serve, and he looks like he could take on the entire world and win.

This new arrangement though, this living together situation, is presenting a new set of variables that must be adjusted to, and the nakedness is one of them.’

--

For years, being Oikawa’s best friend has worked out fine. Hajime is hopelessly in love with him, but it’s enough. Then Oikawa—who, by all accounts, has never been anything but determinedly, assuredly straight—gets a boyfriend. Or a boy friend-with-benefits. Hajime doesn’t know, and he doesn’t give a shit about the definition.

What he knows is that remaining best friends is starting to seem a bit too painful (way too painful) to be considered a solid option.

 The Best Best, by rikke (12k. T. canonverse/future fic)

Takeru is a whole mood. Don’t want kids, but I do want domesticity and this fic feeds me well.

“Congratulations, Iwa-chan! You’re a dad!” Iwaizumi hears as soon as the door opens. He’s dealt with Oikawa for all of his twenty-one years of age now, but this declaration is still sufficiently disturbing enough that he turns from his place on the couch and braces himself for whatever Oikawa has done this time.

 Or the one where Iwaizumi and Oikawa babysit Takeru for a week.

 cheek kisses, by ohhotlamb (G. 3k. Future fic)

Sooo cute!! 

“Every time,” Hajime murmurs, “every time I see you again I remember how fuckin’ crazy I am about you.”

 Routine, by snoqualmie  (2k. T. canonverse)

Again, anyone wanna be my childhood best friend so we can put face masks on each other and fall in love? I died, truly. 

Iwaizumi is fourteen years old, horny too often and angry all the time, and he’s just starting to notice that Tooru’s legs are really long, that his lips are kinda soft looking, and his fingers feel good pressed under his jaw.

 Thirty Years and Change (the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad, by sunsmasher (19k. G. canon divergence)

Be wary, I would give this fic an upper rating to probably Teen and the follow-up fic is Explicit. But, Oikawa on the Japanese national team is just a dream as is, but add in a rekindling friendship and an angsty make out sesh? Mwah, delizioso. 

It’s July 10th, 2024, and Oikawa Tooru is an Olympian. His smiling face airs on an NHK promo every 45 seconds. He’s captain of the national men’s volleyball team, reigning star of the professional leagues, and he hasn't spoken to Iwaizumi Hajime in two years.

He has, however, sent Iwaizumi tickets for the 2024 Los Angeles Summer Games.

“So go,” says Matsukawa's voice. “It’s only a few weeks. You’ve got a whole city to hide in if it gets awkward, and if it doesn’t get awkward, well…”

It’s like watching the future reconfigure, like being in high school again, watching team after team fall to Oikawa’s faultless planning and shameless charm.

“I’ll get to watch a whole lot of volleyball,” Hajime says, and resigns himself to fate and/or Oikawa Tooru.

“Hey, when you get there, can you bag a gymnast for me?” Hanamaki asks, and Matsukawa squawks.

 Chasing Paper Suns, by carafin (10k. T. Future fic)

Again with the growing up and coming back together, this time with more angst than the last. Lovely, really lovely read. 

Post-high school, Oikawa makes it to the national volleyball team but Iwaizumi doesn't. The next three years become an exercise in growing up without growing apart.

Some days Hajime likes to think of himself as Oikawa’s counterpart—the two of them blending into a single devastating unit, the invincible setter and his unyielding ace, the bond between them unbreakable and true. Other days he feels like he is chasing after a rising sun, always running and running with his eyes fixed on the distance, trying to cross a chasm that stretches on without end, caught in an endless and exhausting pursuit.

 the yellow room, by ohhotlamb (14k. T. canonverse/future fic)

Makki and Mattsun see bullshit and call you out on your bullshit. 

“I told you, we broke up like six months ago. We’re not dating anymore.”

Hanamaki eyes him suspiciously. “You live together.”

“Yeah, so?”

“There are pictures of you two kissing stuck to your refrigerator.”

Hajime shrugs. “That wasn’t my idea. Anyways, they’re good pictures. Good lighting.”

 the river runs, by tothemoon (11k. T. post-breakup)

My heart ACHES. Happy ending, promise! Just read it. 

One year since their breakup, Oikawa Tooru starts a list of daily reminders, tips, and tricks called HOW TO FORGET ABOUT IWAIZUMI HAJIME, and he’s determined to make it stick.

—

This is a firsthand account of how to deal (and rather spectacularly, at that).

 I sure hope that guy gets fired, by Xov (29k. T. canonverse/time loop au)

The only thing better than one confession, is MULTIPLE confessions. Oikawa trusts Iwaizumi unshakably, and that's beautiful. 

It was the fourth time experiencing the exact same day that Iwaizumi Hajime reluctantly admitted to himself that something was very wrong. 

 my only friend was the man in the moon (until i met you), by ohhotlamb (7k. T. canonverse)

Just so innocent and sweet. Oikawa said ‘effort’.

In which Oikawa has a life-altering revelation, and Hajime is starting to think it involves him.  

 Bet On It, by originalblue (13k. E. canonverse)

Tooru being nice for a week? That can only end one way… with a d*ck in Hajime’s mouth. 

Hajime knows exactly how shitty Oikawa's personality is, and has no scruples whatsover about betting Oikawa six thousand yen that he can't be nice for an entire week. 

 especially for tender ones like us, by viverella (17k. T. canonverse/post break-up)

Gods! See? See what I mean? How could I forget about a work as heart wrenchingly beautiful as this? Give it some love, actually, all of the love. 

The worst part of it all, Tooru thinks to himself sometimes, is that even as they fought and kicked and screamed and tore each other to shreds, it was never that Tooru stopped loving Iwaizumi any less. The worst part of it all, he thinks, is that loving Iwaizumi turned out to not be enough.

(OR: on finding the right person at the wrong time and learning how to pick up the pieces)

 sunset town, by skiecas (33k. T. canon-divergent)

Another work that I just CANNOT understand why it doesn't have more hits. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. I almost cried. 

In the summer of 2020, Oikawa Tooru returns home from his first successful stint as captain of Japan’s national volleyball team. In one hand, he holds the undisputed weight of an Olympic medal, and in the other, his unresolved feelings for a childhood best friend.

Two years down the road, reconciling his lifelong dream with his lifelong love proves to be the greatest challenge.

 of odd numbers and intimate regrets, by bravely (commovente) (5k. T. post-canon/one night stand au)

Basically, Tooru and Hajime sleep together after not speaking for seven years and of course there’s feelings and angst and a belated chance at happiness and a life together. 

Tooru’s spent the last seven years of his life in a carefully constructed schedule that is, he realises now, as much a habit as it was a way to forget about the person in front of him.

[or, the one night stand AU between two people more than friends but not quite lovers, measuring the passage of time in distance and long-gone memories, the expansion and contraction of the spaces between their fingers each time.]

 cross my heart, open wide, by acchikocchi (7k. T. canonverse)

Super cute, super short. Realizing you're on a date with the wrong person one-shot. 

For a minute Hajime doesn't know what to say. Everything and nothing crowds his mind, leaving no room to think. That he's never tried this. That volleyball's over. That he's graduating in five months. That it would be really nice, at least once, to go on a date with a good-looking guy.

 Hajime goes on a date. It's not with Oikawa. 

 Fernweh, by oikawashoyo (19k. G. canonverse/post time skip)

A mature(ish) Tooru?? I love works that show Tooru growing and living happily in Argentina and this one is just beautiful. (Plus! Plus, Skai did a piece on it as well and I love ALL their work so you can visualize everything). Love it. 

Argentina is stretching out before him, an opportunity, a challenge. He is reminded of his losses, his insecurities, his disappointments; sees them form a tall, tall wall blocking his path to success. He takes a deep breath and knows he is going to shatter it.

In which Oikawa's whole life is spent longing for the horizon — in the form of a dream, a home, and a boy.

 i breathe easily in your arms, by orphan_account (2k. M. canonverse)

Soft, soft sex

When, after completing their high school graduation ceremony and heading home to enjoy their freedom, Oikawa had pulled him into his room and pressed his lips hesitantly against Iwaizumi’s own, it seemed an inevitable development in the unfolding narrative of their shared existence.

Despite years of having a bed to himself, the sensation of another body taking up space in his sheets, curling against his chest, creating warmth, feels natural in much the same way.

 old and new, by Mysecretfanmoments (5k. T. canon divergence)

Finally a fic where they don't freak out on confession and it's sweet. 

“You seem—sad.” Was that the right word? Others sprang to mind: desperate, lonely, anxious.

Tooru looked away. “Are you going to make me say it?”

“Say what?”

Tooru folded his arms, sighed. “I missed you, of course.”

Hajime swallowed.

“No need to look that way. I told you, I’m not one of your macho man buddies. I’m allowed to say stuff like that without being embarrassed—”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Hajime complained. “No need to be so defensive. I’ve missed you too.”

“Oh?” Tooru seemed to get a little of his own back, leaning forward on his elbows. “What about me did you miss?”

((Going to separate universities, Hajime and Tooru learn the true meaning of "distance makes the heart grow fonder"))

 all i wanted was you, by spaceburgers (6k. E. college/fwb au)

This was more emotional than I thought a 6k friends with benefits fic could be, okay? Okay. 

Wherein Hajime and Tooru are fuck buddies, Hajime curses his treacherous heart, and Tooru is bad with feelings. 

 we shine like diamonds, by whitemiists (26k. T. canon divergence)

I couldn't not include this work. It deals with internalized homophobia so well and I really resonate with it. 

In all seriousness, I’m very lucky to live in a country where my sexuality is widely accepted and my heart goes out the LGBTQIA+ peoples who are forced to hide themselves. You are loved and your sexuality and gender-identity are not wrong and never will be.  

Oikawa is nine when he first hears the word. The boys on the playground whisper it like it's dirty, like the way they daringly mutter the word fuck and then look over their shoulders to check their parents hadn't heard.

"You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is... gay."

 Look For Him, by Leryline (18k. E. canonverse)

A collection of kisses. I love Hajime’s grandmother. 

She laughs gently. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so heartbroken before, Hajime.”

Iwaizumi sighs and prods at the mackerel with a chopstick. “Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s just different, you know? Like Oikawa pissed me off so much that now he’s not here I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“But you weren’t always annoyed with him, were you?” his grandmother smiles serenely and takes a sip of her tea. “My, my, Hajime, old women see everything. I saw you out there with my finches, when you were kissing Tooru’s nose. Your mother and father used to do the very same thing, you know, when they were younger. And look how long they’ve lasted. I hope you and Tooru last, Hajime. He’s very good for you.”

-

Oikawa has kissed Iwaizumi more times than either of them can count; it’s a constant thing, their lips never really leaving the other’s skin. There are, however, times when they’ve kissed that are burned into their memories. Eight of them, to be precise.

 film reel life, arsenicjay (8k. T. canon divergence)

Such a unique and creative idea! Reading from the eyes of a camera, so beautiful!

The only person Iwaizumi is lying to is himself, when he insists: I am not in love with Oikawa Tooru. 

 how to let your planets align, by tether (tothemoon) (15k. T. end of the world au)

This is the only remotely non-happy ending fic I will be including on here, and it's purely because it's a gorgeous read. And yes, I ached. Your lips, my lips, apocalypse. 

It is the last day on earth, December 2nd, 1985, when you realize you're in love with him.

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fic rec #iwaoi #iwaizumi x oikawa #Iwaizumi Hajime #oikawa tooru

[littlestarofthewest]

*chants softly* Do it - write that modern AU uno fic that the fandom doesn't realise that they desperately need 👿😏😘

Remember this? This came up between Christmas and New Year’s 2019 xD And now I finally did it.

Pairing: Arthur x gn reader | Words: 2325 | Rating: mildly nsft | Tags: strip Uno (yes, you’re reading this right), modern AU

The party is in full swing around you, but you have no desire to join in. It's been a while since a new year made you hopeful, and all the happiness and well wishes for another promising year sound forced and wrong in your ears.

It's too loud, and it smells like alcohol and too many people in a small space. You can barely breathe, so you head along the corridor to the rooms that are off-limits to the other guests. You don't feel like crashing in John's and Abigail's bedroom, so you take the next room that's part office, part storage room. In the past, you sometimes crashed here for the night.

You close the door behind you with a sigh and are about to head for the couch, but then you spot someone sitting in front of it on the ground. He's hunched over a little and looks up when you stop dead in your tracks.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know somebody was in here."

"It's alright," the guy says, offering you a kind smile.

A little lamp next to the sofa throws a soft shadow on his face, and you recognize the beard and nice features. You've seen him many times in photos around the apartment.

"You're Arthur, right?" you ask. "John's friend slash brother?"

Arthur chuckles. "Yeah, I guess you could call me that."

"I'm Y/N, Abigail's friend."

Recognition shows in Arthur's face, and he nods. "Friend slash soul mate slash the only person who understands Abigail whenever John acts like … well, John."

"So you have heard of me."

"A little, here and there," Arthur says, "mostly good."

"Mostly?"

Arthur grins a little one-sided, and something warm rises up in your stomach. You always thought that Arthur was handsome based on the pictures. It's way worse in person.

"I didn't mean to crush your party-" you start, but Arthur interrupts you.

"It's alright. I understand the urge for some peace and quiet. Please stay."

"Thanks." You move closer and sit down on the ground, putting your first and only drink down on the table next to the lamp. "What you got there?"

"Uno cards, if you believe it," Arthur says, and you both look at each other and speak at the same time. "John."

Arthur laughs, and you take a sip from your drink, enjoying the view. You definitely prefer Arthur's company to all the fake happy people outside.

"You gonna shuffle those all night, or are you ready to lose?" you ask.

"Lose?" Arthur measures you with a raised brow. "Around here, nobody takes me on."

You wave your fingers at him. "Come on then. Deal."

Arthur shuffles the cards for real now before setting up the first game, and you try to figure out if you've ever had a stranger New Year's Eve. Sitting in a friend's apartment playing Uno with a stranger is not a plan you would have made.

About two minutes later, Arthur puts his last card on the pile. "See?" he teases, but you just shrug.

"Beginner's luck."

You go back and forth with dealing the cards, and although Arthur wins the first three games, you soon catch up, making you both even again.

"So, why are you in here?" you ask, sorting your cards.

"I only came because John and Abigail wanted to set me up, but she didn't show," Arthur says with a shrug. "Didn't feel like partying after that."

"That sucks. Did her plans change?"

"More her perspective, I guess," Arthur says, something defeated in his voice. "Saw my profile picture, and suddenly she changed her mind."

"Nah, that can't be it."

"Why not?"

"Because you're gorgeous."

"I- What?" Arthur stumbles.

"I'm telling you that you're a very attractive man," you say while watching your cards. "And Uno, by the way."

"Oh, well, thank you, I guess," Arthur says. He puts another card on the pile, his cheeks now sporting a red tinge. "You're very nice."

"Just honest. And I win."

You grin at Arthur as he collects the cards to shuffle again. "You really are a worthy foe. We should make this more interesting."

"What, like strip poker?" you joke and Arthur laughs.

"We only have Uno cards." He's about to deal, but then he looks at you with a mischievous spark in his eyes. "Although it doesn't make much difference, really."

You look at each other and there's a sudden tension as if both of you wait for the other to chicken out or laugh. You wish you could, but the idea of getting Arthur naked is too tempting, even if you might lose some of your clothes yourself.

"We should probably lock the door," you say as casually as you can.

"Yeah, that's a good idea."

You get up to lock the door, and when you come back, Arthur deals, both of you acting as if nothing changed, but you feel a constant wave of heat running up and down your body. Before, you didn't really care much for your cards, but now every move counts. 

Arthur's the first one to win, but the second he puts down the card, he looks like he'd rather take it back. "Look, you don't have to-"

You interrupt him by taking off one of your shoes. "You're just worried you're going to lose."

 "Fine, you're asking for it."

Arthur wins again, getting your second shoe, followed by you winning for the first time. Like you, Arthur loses his shoes first, and then you agree to count both socks as one item. That's how Arthur ends up shirtless pretty soon after. You tell yourself that a naked torso is really nothing special, but for some reason, you play your worst round.

"You seem to have a hard time concentrating," Arthur teases, and you hate that he actually noticed.

"Shut up," you grunt, focusing on the cards. Still, you can't help but peek at Arthur once in a while.

"How did you end up here then tonight?" Arthur asks.

"My ex is back in town and hung around in front of my apartment, so Abigail suggested I hang out here."

"Something to be concerned about?" Arthur asks, his voice making clear how he thinks about a stalker-y ex.

"It's not that bad, really. They're not dangerous or anything, just annoying," you explain. "It's probably just a desperate 'alone on New Year's Eve' thing. Like I'd do that again."

You roll your eyes, and Arthur chuckles. "One of those, huh? Just gotta wait them out then. And this is your shirt gone."

He puts down his last card, and you get to your feet. "I'll go with the pants first if you don't mind. I'm hot anyway."

"Suit yourself," Arthur says nonchalantly, but you can feel his eyes on you as you slide the fabric down your legs. 

Arthur looks away again when you sit, but your skin still prickles, and you wonder how much more of this you can take. Playing freaking Uno shouldn't be this hot.

Lucky for you, you get a good hand, and despite your lack of concentration, Arthur's the one who has to get rid of his pants next. You try your best not to stare at his junk but fail miserably. Suddenly you're very concerned about what could happen next. Arthur must think the same.

"Glad we locked the door," Arthur grunts, "I don't need strangers looking at my junk."

"I'm a stranger, too, aren't I?" 

"You called me gorgeous; you can do whatever you want," Arthur says.

You know he's joking, but that doesn't stop your brain from imagining things you could do to or with him. That very pleasing but also distracting train of thought loses you your shirt in the next round. Still, Arthur's the one who has to get rid of his underwear first.

This time, you have the decency to look away until he sits down again, and the red on Arthur's cheeks is back. 

"So, what now?" he asks. "Can't exactly take off more if I lose."

After what you just thought about, your brain seems to have lost all sensible ideas, and you blurt out the first thing on your mind. "Truth or dare."

Arthur chuckles. "Really? And next up is 'spin the bottle?'" 

"Hey, we're playing strip Uno," you huff, "you really want to get judgemental on me now?"

"Alright, alright, 'truth or dare' it is. Just deal."

You deal the cards with butterflies taking flight in your stomach. You don't even know what to ask or dare Arthur, but the alternative is to get naked yourself. Either way, you're in trouble.

The round goes on and on, both of you putting on more cards rather than losing them, but then the game turns in Arthur's favor until he forgets to say Uno. You have better luck then, finally winning the round. 

This time, it's you who tries to offer a way out. "Look, you don't have-"

"No, no, that's what we agreed on," Arthur says, waving his fingers at you. "Come on, ask."

"Alright, truth, or dare?"

Arthur studies you for a moment, his gaze so intense that a cold shiver runs down your spine. "Dare."

All kinds of stupid things run through your mind, but you don't want to make Arthur look foolish, especially in front of anybody else. You want to keep him all to yourself.

"I dare you not to move, no matter what."

Arthur raises his eyebrows in surprise but stays deliberately still. You take all your courage and crawl over to him, scattering the cards without a second thought. 

When you reach Arthur, you run your cheek along his one like a cat before placing soft kisses along his neck. You hear him take in a sharp breath, but he doesn't move. 

You look up to him, and he keeps still as you move closer, your lips hovering so close to his that you can feel his breath. It takes all your willpower not to kiss him, but you're still playing after all.

"Your turn," you say, looking right into Arthur's eyes. They're a nice shade of blue but with an almost golden circle in the middle.

"Truth or dare?" Arthur asks.

"Dare," you say way too fast.

Arthur's lip twitches into a smile, but he still doesn't move. "I dare you to come closer."

You crawl into Arthur's lap, very aware of the fact that only a tiny piece of fabric keeps you apart. With your arms around Arthur's neck, you make yourself comfortable, but your faces are still inches apart. 

"Truth or dare?" you ask.

"The truth is that I didn't say Uno on purpose," Arthur says. You believe him, which means that he wanted for this little game to start. 

"Trickery," you say, running your fingers through his hair, "how very naughty of you. I think that entitles me to dare you again."

"Sounds fair."

You move even closer, your fingers teasing Arthur's neck. "I dare you to touch me."

Arthur places his hands on your knees before running them up to your thighs. You get goosebumps all over your skin and can't help that you fidget a little. The friction takes its toll on Arthur. You can feel him pressing up against you while he runs his hands up along your body.

"Truth or dare?" he asks, his fingers dancing over your back.

"Truth. I want you to kiss me."

Arthur caresses your shoulders while he looks at you, his fingers climbing your neck in slow motion. The touch makes you shiver, but you stay right where you are, letting Arthur cup your face with his hands. Only when there's a barely-there pull, you move, finally closing the gap between you and Arthur.

You can't remember the last time someone kissed you this gently, and you melt against Arthur, promising yourself to stay in his lap for as long as you possibly can.

Arthur deepens the kiss, the taste, and warmth of him making you forget where you are until there's a harsh knock on the door.

"Hey, Y/N? You in there? It's me."

You feel like being doused with ice water, and your fingers dig harshly into Arthur's shoulders.

"Who's that?" he whispers, worry in his expression.

"My ex," you whisper back.

"Come on, let's talk," comes the voice from outside.

Arthur raises his eyebrows in question, and you immediately shake your head, so he tilts his head to face the door. "Do you mind? We're trying to hook up in here."

There's silence, and you bite your lip so you won't laugh. Sadly, your ex doesn't give up that easily. "Who is this?"

"It's Arthur; you might want to remember that name the next time you skulk around somebody's apartment."

It's silent again, then your ex clears their throat. "Just call me, okay? We can talk about this?"

You look at Arthur, slightly shaking your head, so you both stay quiet until you're sure your ex is gone. Arthur leans back with a sigh, resting his head against the couch. "That was not a turn on."

"I'm sorry," you say, running your fingers over his beard. "Like I said - annoying."

Arthur watches the ceiling for a bit before he takes your hands, threading your fingers together. "You know, I have an apartment, too. No exes hanging around that one."

You laugh. "Getting me naked here doesn't mean you can get me naked over there."

"I just borrow these cards, and we'll see what happens."

He kisses you again, and you have to admit to yourself that you'd rip your clothes off in an instant if he asked you to. You still act like you need to be persuaded. "Fine, you may take me there and try again. You might lose, though."

Arthur smiles. "I'll take that risk."

Getting dressed has never been such a thrill for you. Maybe the new year wasn't so bad after all.

#arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 fanfic #my writing #rdr2 modern au #fulfilled requests #fangirl-ramblings

[sleepyowlwrites]

find the word tag CCLXVII

I said I was going to go to bed when I got home. but also, I did that yesterday and it got me 3 1/2 hours of sleep and a terrible headache. so I didn't do it. but now I might spend too long on the internet binging twosetviolin videos. oh dear. @emelkae

gaze (youth story d0 - R, you're so dramatic)

“Five minutes.” It came out as a croak, and Mark looked positively miserable after saying it. “I’ll do five minutes.”

R swung his gaze around to his former enemy. “Why? Because Nyks wants you to?”

Mark slide his eyes to and from Nyks meaningfully.

race (youth story d0 - yeah, Cal, in on the plotting, I see)

“Ah.” His thumbs dragged along his index fingers as he thought about that. “So this was Evie’s idea, not yours.”

“No.” Nyks stopped smiling long enough for R to catch his breath. “It her idea to do a competition, but I suggested a race. And she told me to come tell it to you.”

R nodded, his eyelids brushing up against his skin. “’Cause she knows I hate running.”

“Cal was there, though. Wouldn’t he know? He said it was a good idea.” Nyks was almost frowning, which R felt guilty about even though he hadn’t done anything wrong. It just always seemed to break the rules of the universe whenever Nyks appeared even remotely sad.

accurate (youth story d0 - Nyks is everyone's guardian angel)

“He seemed nice,” Jae agreed. “I don’t, if that, know if he’s that, that angelic.”

“No, he is.” Savannah rounded the corner and flung an arm over Jae’s shoulders, the latter visibly slumping with the added weight. “I had my doubts, but trust me. He’s literally an angel.”

Jae looked back at R, seemingly hoping for a more accurate description.

“He’s our guardian angel, don’t question it.”

true (summon story d0 - spirit lore is my favorite thing)

“How many days are we contracting it for?” Shae set her stick aside when she completed the outline. “Should we say a week?”

“It’ll take longer than that to get any credible information that isn’t just hearsay,” Zan reasoned, carefully passing the bag of ashes to her. “So let’s mark it for three, since one sacrifice is enough for whatever stipulations we add.”

“Won’t the begar start to lose memory by then?” Shae adjusted the bag in her hands, feet planted apart so she could see the array pattern.

That was true. “Alright, fine, two weeks. And make sure you use Erin’s signature. I don’t need a spirit haunting me at the crack of dawn with blood trailing everywhere just to tell me things I don’t even want to know.”

flat (technically that's how you write a song, 2020)

Sure, it’s not the same That’s why it has a different name But it’s familiar - like a song you sang in choir A poem given music to change the pace of sound Clipped wings complaining that they’d just like to sing now Did you see me on the offbeat? Did you catch when I fell flat? I used to joke about parades I saw you on the stage You are a star, imagine that My eyes are kinda blurry I’ll try again next week But I think I’m lying

doubt, description, dawn, drop, drag. BONUS: delirious, deliberate. @zmlorenz @spacetimewraithwrites @diphthongsfordays @vellichor-virgo @asomeoneperson OR ANYBODY or nobody

#find the word tag #tag game #searching circle #alliteration agency

[gwaciechang]

I Don't Wanna Go Home (1/15?)

So, this is probably going to be my most ambitious project ever. I'm going to do a fusion of the video gave Subnautica Below Zero, with the characters from Cloverfield Paradox. You don't have to have played Below Zero first, although it would certainly help. Also, as someone who has played the game, I tried my best to explain everything, which is why the first few chapters are going to be really slow, and why everyone talks so much. I also made a change to the canon of the first Subnautica: instead of Riley curing Kharaa, it was the precursors.

So, a few more things before we start this chapter. I hate "y/n l/n" stuff, so I just call the pov character Ling Tam. I don't think anybody actually uses that name in the story, but that might change, and in any case, you're free to replace her name with any name you like. Also, reader is in a relationship with Mundy at the start of the story, although that, obviously, won't last because it's endgame reader/Schmidt. Okay, that's everything, enjoy, and let me know if you want to be tagged.

@hope-to-hell @vicanth @feralrunaway @october505 @potentialproblem01

"Hey, Monk, you told me to come get you if that weird signal showed up ag-" you stop when you see the vehicle technician on the radio.

"When are you going to send me some more art? There's still a patch of bare wall here that could use some color and a touch of genius!" Monk says, probably to his kids, as he waves you away. You close the door as silently as you can, and not a second too soon, because Mundy opens the habitat door and stomps his way inside with a box. Behind him, you can see the prawn suit, with several other boxes still tied to its massive arms. There's an inquisitive face popping out of the water that you decide not to tell him about. Why shouldn't the creatures have a little fun?

"Another day, another slight by the winged furies," Mundy grumbles.

"Another interference alert?" you ask, trying to lay the sympathy on thick before you inevitably burst into laughter.

"As usual," the xenobiologist sighs theatrically. "Also as usual, I went out to see what the problem was. And, of course, it was-"

"Frozen stalagmites of feathered bird excrement," the two of you say together.

"I fear the career impact of saying this officially-"

"If you can even call what you have a career," you interrupt, getting yourself a faceful of dirty towel.

Besides throwing the thing you're really hoping he hadn't just used to wipe up bird shit in your face, your boyfriend continues as if you'd never spoken. "I could swear they're targeting me personally. The week I was out with a flu, I came back to find the tower spotless. Monk laughed at me when I asked him how he'd cleaned it. Silly me!"

"As if Monk would ever clean anything," you agree. "What are you going to do?"

"There's nothing left for me to try but quitting. But I know that's what the birds want me to do," he shakes his fist at the sky as he walks back outside to retrieve the final box.

You turn back to the screen and wonder about the signal again. It's been appearing on and off for days, ever since you got the radio tower up and running, and what would a repeat call be besides a distress signal?

"Ah jeez, these sea monkeys are going to get me in trouble," the box in Mundy's hands is scratched through in places. "This is the third shipment that those buggers have gotten their weird little hands into! Now we're running low on flares and I'm going to have to search nearby nests for stolen cargo," he sighs as he drops a mangled box on the top of his cluttered workstation. It makes a bang that would have disturbed Monk, if he weren't on the radio, or Schmidt, if he were a normal person who came back from work at normal hours. As it is, there's just you to look at him, a welcome break from potential distress signals and what they might mean.

"Just put some of your drawings on the tower, they'll be too scared to go near it!"

"Ha ha," Mundy says sarcastically, before going outside to park the prawn-

"Oh, for fuck's sake! It’s fucking gone!"

You and Monk, still on the radio, step outside, but sure enough, the prawn suit has disappeared without a trace, as far as you can tell.

"I'm still trying, quietly--I don't want any more trouble--to figure out where I went wrong. I was sure Tam had picked up a distress signal!" Monk bends down to peer at the tracks. "I was right on top of it. And then it just," he gets to the edge of the glacier, stands up, and shakes his head, "it just stopped. What if one of the precursors is still down there? And how could a hivemind alien race so advanced that they singlehandedly ended a galaxy wide pandemic leave someone behind? I'll probably be home before I ever get to find out, and it will fall to some future researcher to come and find out, I guess, I hope," he waves the two of you back into the habitat and closes the door. "But that means I'll get to be with you little rascals." His voice fades and disappears.

"So, game tonight?" you ask, hoping to erase the distress off Mundy’s face.

"That'd be nice," he says with a weak smile, just before Jensen slams her door open.

"Mundy, inside!" barks the overseer of operations.

Mundy sighs and drags his feet as he walks into Jensen's office. No sooner has she closed the door with a snap than you and Monk have your heads pressed against the door.

"Mundy, I'm not blaming you, but what do you mean, 'it's gone?' Where did it go? You had trouble retrieving the drop pod and decided to jettison the prawn suit?"

"I didn't jettison the prawn suit! I left it outside to put the supply drop away, went back for it, and it was just gone! Someone must have stolen it."

"Who? Who else do you think is on this planet besides the five of us?"

"It could be a creature ate it. I didn't lose it, that's for sure. I'm careful with my vehicles!"

You can practically hear Jensen’s eyeroll as she continues, "I'm sure you are, but you have to admit, there have been a lot of 'accidents' involving our very expensive vehicles."

"You want to follow me on a few runs tomorrow? See what it's like? Conditions are way harsher than anything I ever imagined. You can't really understand it from inside your office!"

Monk winces, and you know there's a matching pained expression on your face. Talking back to Jensen is a terrible idea, but Mundy's sealed his fate, and now all that's left is to wait for the other shoe to drop.

"That won't be necessary," Jensen says with syrupy calm. "Thank you for your time. I'll write it up as an accident."

"Thank you, ma'am," Mundy's voice is shaky. Jensen doesn't respond, so the vehicle technician’s deliberately loud footsteps approach the door, prompting you and the precursor researcher you're spying with to run like your asses are on fire back to your stations.

"I think it'd be best if Researcher Tam takes over your duties with the leviathan tomorrow," Jensen says, loudly enough for you to hear, even through the door.

Now it's your turn to wince. Mundy gives you a small smile as he walks past, and then Jensen's in your line of sight, hands on her hips.

"I believe I told you to go somewhere."

"Yes, ma'am," you drop everything to put your thermal suit on, and pour a final cup of sweet, sweet dirty bean water in your thermos. There's no cappuccino machine allowed in the cave, lest it somehow thaw out the entire frozen leviathan Mundy, and now you, are studying. Or maybe it was just Schmidt being anal about his robots, you wouldn't put it past the guy whose lips are basically permanently attached to Jensen's ass.

On the bright side, they're also attached to a guy who knows what he's doing, and is thorough in explaining what Mundy does when he's here. Still, it's barely five minutes in when the silence gets to you.

"I love and hate exploring these tunnels," you start to babble, not expecting Schmidt to respond. "Yeah, they're marvels to the power of the ice worms. I mean, the amount of ice they are able to cut through in seconds, it would take us at least a couple days. Their tunneling mechanism is ruthlessly efficient. Alterra could only dream of having this sort of mining capability, and yeah, the ice worms uncover mineral rich pockets as they tunnel. But going beneath the surface is so risky, I mean, we've lost so many already, and I don't understand why we have to stay in this particular area of the glacier. I can't wait to get off this hellhole, or ice hole? Whatever."

You can hardly believe it, but you hear a clear snort coming from Schmidt’s workstation. You fill your flasks with a wide smile on your face, which doesn’t fade even when you make your way back across the tunnel to see his with its usual pinched, sour expression.

"Hey, do you want some coffee?" you wave the thermos at him. "It might help you get the taste of Alterra boot leather out of your mouth," you say in a singsong voice.

"How much sugar and cream is in that?" Schmidt wrinkles his nose. "No thank you."

You decide to let that roll off your back and chuckle a little. "I guess my proclivities toward having coffee with my sugar is well known, huh? Just like how I should know better than to invite you to game night with me and the other researchers, again?"

Is snow blindness affecting your vision, or did Schmidt just smile?

"You should know better," he says in a soft voice, and then he takes out another set of small, sterile flasks, and hands them to you. "Get some samples from the skull, too, use the elevator."

"Thanks!" you grab the flasks, only to drop them the second you put your hand on the elevator lift button, because that's a fucking rotten peeper hanging off the edge.

Schmidt snaps his gloves off and cleans it up, which is nice of him, even if the things he says while he does it aren’t very nice. "Mundy," he practically spits, "always leaving food around. At least the nutrient blocks and the filtered water don't spoil."

"Well, the man likes to munch on things," you try to lighten the mood. "Are you telling me you don’t leave snacks around your workstation?" Schmidt opens his mouth, but you interrupt. "Don't tell me, you have a timer telling you when to go to the fabricator to make food and eat?"

He closes his mouth and turns a little red.

Holy shit, you were right? That's the saddest thing you've ever heard. "Okay, you know what, you are definitely playing Alien Intruders with us tonight, because I'm going to cook. Real food, too, none of that fabricated stuff."

"Oh, I am?" Schmidt raises an eyebrow.

"Yep! And I'm going to make my favorite dish, just for you, you'll love it! Roasted Chinese potato with shredded marblemelon and salt."

That was definitely a snort, maybe even a laugh, and it carries you through the rest of the day.

#ernst schmidt x reader

[kulaykape]

5 Reasons to Wife Her: Ina x MC

Summary: Ina says something she shouldn't have. Aliyah's six year-old brother offers his wisdom (and warning).

ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST >:D

Tags: @citybornchick @samanthadalton @sakaily @astrangeandunusualgirl @thepotatobleh @domakir @jenxespinoza @simpingoverpixels

•••

Forgiving

Ina curled even further into herself, hugging the pillow that she had wrapped in her arms. Aliyah's dog, a doe-eyed Cane Corso puppy, rested his chin on her hip. Aliyah's little brother Leon was asleep in the room bedside them, Ina having just tucked him in- albeit while the boy refused to meet her eye or reply when she said "good night".

At least you still like me, Ina thought as she reached over to scratch behind Arthur's ears. Arthur shot Ina a look as if he could read Ina's thoughts, and she couldn't have been more wrong.

Ina sighed. "Or maybe not," she murmured while Arthur kept his disapproving gaze on her. Ina rolled back over and cuddled closer into the pillow.

That pillow was a sorry substitute for Aliyah. But then again, Ina was pretty sure that if she came anywhere near Aliyah right now, she'd get a slap in the face. Followed by a few harsh words that would definitely sting a much more.

Lord knows that Aliyah could be cruel with her words if she wanted to, and Ina knew it too. She'd seen it at work.

But Aliyah, with all the love Ina just knew she was always looking at her with, would never raise that weapon against her. She'd made a promise to never hurt her, after all.

So why had Ina?

Ina had flaked (yet again) on their planned movie date at Aliyah's apartment. Aliyah had offered to swing by her office and help her with her apparently overbearing workload, but Ina had refused her help. The Professor winced to herself now about it. Aliyah was still her TA, and refusing her help made her look all the more suspicious.

Still, Aliyah was understanding. She'd never get tired of Ina's company, but she could understand if Ina herself needed her space. The argument had only become just that when Ina had come by Aliyah's apartment.

Exhaustion was her excuse for her words. But that was a load of BS, Ina knew.

Arguments were always a whirlwind, at least in Ina's past experiences. But before then, with Aliyah, conflict was always resolved through cuddling and soft apologies. Not yelling and harsh glares that were meant for anybody but each other.

"At least I could get some damn space when I was with her!"

That was all Ina cared to remember about the argument. Everything else fell away, it was only those words that stuck with her. Those words, and Aliyah's face falling as she took them in.

Ina had extended her hand towards Aliyah, but she'd retracted as if Ina's touch would sting her. And she was out the door before Ina could even whimper out an apology.

Ina buried her face in the pillow and cursed loudly.

My woman, she thought, I hurt my woman.

The door of Aliyah's bedroom creaked open, and Ina shot up ramrod-straight. "Aliyah?" She called into the dark. Rather than her though, her miniature version emerged from the shadows. Leon looked up at Ina, eyes wide and sad as he twiddled his thumbs, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Leon?" Ina asked, "Is something wrong, sweetie?"

Wordlessly, Leon crawled up into the bed and under the covers with Ina. Ina couldn't help but smile a little bit as he snuggled into her side, grabbing Arthur and hugging him close.

"Are you still upset with me?" She asked softly.

Leon looked up at her with a heartbreakingly guilty gaze. "I'm sorry for being mean," he blurted. But Ina shook her head.

"Don't be sorry. You're right to be mad at me," she replied, ruffling his hair, "I hurt Aliyah. You should be mad."

"…Did you do it on purpose?" Leon asked after much deliberation, petting Arthur's head absently.

Ina hummed as she looked off to the side and out the window. Aliyah always kept her blinds open, so the perpetual hustling and bustling of New York City was the last thing she saw before she fell asleep.

"No. I would never hurt your big sister on purpose, Leon," Ina said, "But it was my mistake." Ina let out a tired sigh. "I just wish she'd come home so I can say sorry. It's not safe for her to be out there this late by herself."

Ina turned to look at Leon when she felt a small pull on her sleeve. The boy's eyes were wide with wonder and innocence. Ina could see Aliyah's face in his so easily.

"Do you love Ali, Ina?" He asked.

Ina sucked in a breath… and then slowly nodded. "With all my heart. You and Ali are family to me," she said, poking his nose and smiling as he gave a small giggle.

With that in mind, Leon snuggled deeper into Ina's side, and Ina wrapped a protective arm around the child. She didn't know what it was about the Diaz's that brought out her protective urges.

"I think Ali loves you a lot," he started, "She always says there's nobody else like you, and that the only person as cute as me is you." Ina couldn't help but throw her head back and laugh.

Leon tipped his head up to look at Ina, his eyes strangely critical for someone who was only six years old. Then again, Aliyah had always said he was unnervingly emotionally acute.

"She really wants to be with you, Ina. If you break her heart," his face dipped into a deep frown, "She'll be really, really sad."

No six year-old had ever knocked the wind out of Ina (well, besides Charlotte… but that was when she'd swung one of her toys around her head and hit Ina in the stomach). But she found herself nodding slowly, as if she were speaking with Aliyah's wisened father rather than her young and innocent brother.

"I know, Leon," she replied, "I know."

Leon resettled with his back against Ina's side, clutching Arthur close to his being. "Just don't hurt her again, okay?" He asked with a yawn.

Ina nodded, smiling melancholically. "Okay." Leon fell asleep soon after that, and Ina was careful as she put him back to bed, with a kiss on his forehead and a very quiet "thank you".

---

It was an hour or two later when the door of Aliyah's bedroom creaked open again. Ina had settled into a light sleep, and stirred a bit, but didn't awaken.

Aliyah let out a shaky sigh as she stood in her doorway. It hurt a little just to look at Ina. Even with her face peaceful in rest, and her hair framing her face and shoulders to make her look like god's greatest angel... 

It just hurt.

But the pain wasn't so sharp anymore. Not like it had been earlier, so painful and stinging that Aliyah had to practically run away from her apartment. It was more dull, like it had been when Ina kicked her out of her office that one night, before Christmas, when she'd given her that necklace.

Aliyah touched a hand to her collarbone, and a sense of security washed over her. Even if she was angry with the giver of the necklace, she couldn't help but feel safe. It was a piece of Ina, and no matter how mad she might try to be, she needed Ina near in some way, somehow.

Slowly and carefully, Aliyah started to shed her street clothes, ruffling her own hair as she maneuvered around to the other side of the bed.

She slipped in quietly, and without so much as a second thought, she moved closer to Ina. The warmth from the woman beckoned her even closer, and Aliyah moved even closer still.

Until she found herself wrapping her arm around her waist, and the sound of Ina's breath hitching as she was suddenly roused from sleep.

The two of them laid in silence for a long moment, and then Aliyah dared to move closer yet. She buried her face in the nape of Ina's neck, nuzzling her nose against soft skin. Ina reached down to clasp her hand with Aliyah's, and raised it up to her lips to kiss each knuckle gently.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow morning," Aliyah murmured softly. Ina nodded. "…I love you," she added.

Ina squeezed Aliyah's hand in her grip, and had no intention of letting go all night. "I love you too."

~end~

#ina kingsley #professor kingsley #queen b #ina x mc

[kumaradosha]

Scott has played MCC for a long time. He has been in every canon event. He has experience under his belt. That is why he is good. If you look at his coins every MCC, he can do consistent Top 15. There are outlier such as MCC 8 wherein his internet crash and other stuff. Overall, he is good. As the event organizer and generally speaking, he is good at building rapport and also good at keeping morale high. Which is why he can do well even with teammates he is not really close with. MCC All Stars Yellow Yaks is MCC 5 Yellow Yaks. Scott and Shubble are the first players to get two coins. Have you seen MCC 17? Technically speaking, he is the best player in that team and they won third place.

Also, check your facts about MCC 14. Or use better wording because that is some deep accusation. Deliberately cheating for his team? And not simply doing his job? And if you can't really tolerate him, then fix your tags (use Scott neg or Smajor neg). Better yet, block him everywhere so you can't see him. Or if you really can't stand him, don't watch MCC. Because he is going to be a constant player there. Don't watch Empires, he is part of that. Don't watch Last Life, he is also part of that.

If you think I'm wrong about him deliberately cheating, tell me why. He literally said it himself, he was the only one who'd seen the map before, deliberately told his teammates all the shortcuts, and said on-stream it's kind of unfair to be doing this, but he did it anyway, without telling anybody else. How is that "his job", lmao?

Also, lol, I can not like somebody without blocking them everywhere or avoiding their presence. I promise I'll live, but thank you so much for your concern. I can voice a negative opinion about a cc and not have to shut up just because you say so. I really don't know enough about Scott to know the popular tags (and I literally don't even know what Empires and Last Life are, so), which is one of the reasons I am open to somebody changing my mind about him. You may have somewhat of a point about his experience, but I will continue to remain somewhat skeptical, just because of his history of cheating and bias (p sure he deliberately didn't include clips of Dream in the Minecraft Live MCC montage, as a small yet sketchy example).

Plus, so far the tone of the Scott fans who have responded to me has just been aggressive/gatekeepey/picky/demanding, ew, not really making a very good impression. Unless of course, you're just grimaussiewitch again, in which case you're the only one to have responded so far--like multiple times whenever I respond, lol. I would have considered changing the tags if you'd asked nicely, but your tone gives me a bad vibe, so nah. Don't tell me what to do, byeeeeeeeeeee.

#Scott Smajor neg #Anonymous

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Tumblr tag || Also on AO3

Chapter 43: Jon

There aren’t words to describe what being home feels like.

It’s not just the four walls of the house they’ve bought together, or the warmth and beauty of a March sunset, or the sounds of a London evening. It’s Charlie flying down the sidewalk to attack Jon with a hug and a bright smile and a flurry of words about how much they’ve all missed him and then coming back two hours later, pleased as Punch and bearing a “welcome home” cake he baked himself. It’s Sasha calling, not texting, to tell Tim she’s home safe and then asking to talk to Jon so they can reassure each other that they’re both okay. It’s Martin gently tending to the marks on his wrists and ankles, still raw from his desperate attempts to pull free before his strength started to desert him, and singing the song he remembers from when he was a little boy and his father came back from a voyage. It’s Tim cooking Jon’s favorite dinner, but serving him in small helpings so that he doesn’t overstretch his stomach after two weeks while still making sure he eats his fill. It’s the cool, clean sheets and the thick, warm quilt and the weight and security of Tim and Martin on either side of him as he falls asleep, and it’s Tim and Martin soothing and reassuring him, as much with their presence as with any actual words, when he wakes up screaming in the middle of the night.

Going back to the Institute is harder than he would have thought. Only the fact that he knows he can’t be away from it for long gets him to go back—that and the fact that he can’t, won’t, leave his team alone to deal with Elias. Once there, though, he slips back into the routine easily enough. Despite Elias’s snide insinuations, the Archives ran fine without him, but he knows they’re glad to have him back.

They take Tuesday morning to regroup and plan. It’s all very well for both Elias and Jon Prime to tell them to find Gertrude’s notes, but Gertrude was, in Tim’s words, a paranoid old bitch, and it’s not likely that they’ll find a conspicuous notebook with detailed plans on how to stop the Unknowing. More likely that whatever they find will end up being more memory aids than anything, cryptic jottings that only mean something to Gertrude, and sussing it out won’t be easy. But it’s a place to start nevertheless, once they figure out where those notes are.

In the end, Tim and Martin take to looking through the shelves of statements—Tim looking for anything to do with the Stranger, Martin looking for a few of the tantalizing little threads they’ve noticed weaving through the tapestry of their database. Sasha attacks the filing cabinets, with the logic that Gertrude may have pretended to file something important. And Jon takes his counterpart’s advice and goes through his office.

It’s not like he doesn’t know what’s in all the drawers of his desk, but he does his due diligence, pulling everything out of each drawer, tapping for false backs or false bottoms. He does find, stuck in the back of the drawer where he keeps the spare statement forms, a creased and faded concert program printed on green stock from 2003; it doesn’t seem to have any immediate significance, though, so he sets it aside with the intention of looking into it later. Perhaps it’s simply a concert Gertrude attended that she enjoyed, but it might also be a clue to the Unknowing. He’ll have to research.

It isn’t until Wednesday morning that he finds the laptop, hidden along with a key under a floorboard that’s been creaky as long as he’s been working in the Archives. There are scratches on some of the floorboards that Jon’s always hoped aren’t fingernail marks, but several of them are loose and one of them levers up fairly easily, revealing Gertrude’s hidden stash. He digs around a bit but finds nothing else, only the laptop and the key. He sets both on his desk next to the concert program and goes to tell the others.

The laptop is dead, of course. Jon vaguely remembers seeing a charger for it when he was in Gertrude’s apartment, but he didn’t grab it then and it’s far too late to go back now. Luckily, Sasha’s laptop is almost the exact same model, so she simply swaps over the cable and lets it charge while they go over what they’ve found so far. Tim has three statements he thinks might be Stranger ones, but hasn’t looked at yet to be sure; Martin found a third statement involving the Daedalus, which Tim seems positive is a Dark statement, and another statement involving Salesa. Sasha hasn’t found anything in the filing cabinets—yet—but she does have Elias’ schedule, so they’re able to plan their briefings when they know they won’t be observed.

She also kindly hacks into Gertrude’s laptop for him, once it’s charged, and he spends most of Thursday painstakingly going through the files, emails, and Internet history. The latter is by far the most voluminous. It almost makes him laugh to discover the account name “grbookworm1818”—how had he not figured out that was Gertrude, attempting to buy Leitners? She seems to have obtained three, one of them being the copy of The Key of Solomon he found fragments of in the tunnels and the other two being ones he’s never seen or heard of. There are also purchase reports for Archival supplies, airline tickets and travel bookings, and sporadic but suspiciously large orders for petrol, lighter fluid, pesticides, and high-powered torches.

When he comes out of his office at the end of the day, eyes bleary and with no clear plan, he finds a number of dusty boxes scattered about and his assistants attempting to find space for them, but they refuse to tell him where they came from or what they’re for. The next morning, however, Martin and Tim usher him into one of the storage rooms they’ve never really got around to sorting out the second they arrive in the Archives. It’s completely empty, save a table, four chairs, a low set of shelves, a whiteboard, and a corkboard, to which Sasha is tacking a large map of the world. The shelves hold fourteen boxes of the kind designed to hold photographs, a large box of pushpins, three different-colored balls of string, and a laptop cord, ready and waiting.

“We thought we needed a war room,” Tim explains, obviously trying to fight back a grin. “You know, somewhere we can keep everything together and not…get mixed up with the rest of the work we’re doing.”

“Allegedly doing,” Sasha says over her shoulder. “I’m still not sure how much of this job is what was presented to us when we took it and how much is the sort of thing we’re doing right now…can one of you give me a hand here?” she adds as the upper corner of the map flops over onto her head, just above her outstretched hand. Tim comes over to assist.

Jon looks around, surprised and pleased, and opens his bag to pull out Gertrude’s laptop. “Why did you pick this room, out of curiosity?”

Martin pulls the door shut behind him. “The molding.”

“What?” Jon frowns at him.

Tim gives the map a firm stroke to smooth out any air bubbles and presses the pushpin deep into the cork, then turns to give Martin a warm, approving smile. “You know how Elias always seems to know what’s going on in the Archives whenever it’s least convenient for us? Martin realized why the other day.”

“It was an accident,” Martin insists, face turning slightly pink.

“It was brilliant.” Tim claps him on the shoulder. “Those fancy decorations at all the joins in the molding? You know, those elaborate carvings at the top of the fake columns and the corners of all the doorframes and whatnot?”

“Not…I’ve never paid much attention to them.” Jon’s only five foot seven, and since he’s never had to worry too much about clearance or anything like that he’s never really looked too much at anything over his head.

“It’s at the corners of all the shelves, too,” Martin offers. “At least the ones where the statements are stored, the ones that are pretty obviously original to the Institute. You know, with what looks like a medallion in the middle?”

Those Jon has seen. “It’s the Institute seal, isn’t it? Or the Magnus family crest?”

“That’s what I always thought, too, but Martin got a good look at one the other day while he was getting down a statement for me.” Sasha’s eyes sparkle behind her glasses, which instantly puts Jon on edge; these days, anything that excites Sasha is likely to have bad ramifications for them. “It’s an eye.”

“And if he can ‘see through any eye, real or image’…” Tim spreads his hands out invitingly.

Jon sets the laptop down harder than he probably should, eyes wide. “He’s been watching us through the moldings!”

“Yep. It’s anybody’s guess whether or not Gertrude knew about it. I ran it down right after I told them and got a lot of stammering and profanity. Although not from who you might expect,” Martin adds with just the tiniest bit of a smirk. Sasha practically cackles. “Anyway, this room doesn’t have anything like that, we double-checked. So we just…cleaned out all the stuff that was in here and set this up. Give us a bit of breathing room, anyway.”

“At least until Elias comes down to the Archives to figure out why he can’t see us easily,” Tim adds. “But, you know, it’s a head start.”

Jon is six inches shorter than Tim and a full nine inches shorter than Martin, so there’s no way to make it look less than deliberate if he attempts to give either one of them even the most casual kiss on the cheek, but good Lord, he wants to. Instead, he just beams at them both. “God, you’re brilliant. Right, let me get a cup of tea and we can get started.”

“I’m on it.” Martin slips out of the little room.

Sasha smirks at Jon behind Tim’s back, but he does his best to ignore her and focuses on the boxes. “What are these?”

“Tapes. We made copies of all the recordings we’ve done so far of the real statements and sorted them by which fear they belong to.” Sasha taps the lid of one of the boxes and indicates the label on the front. It’s a bright yellow set of concentric circles—no, Jon realizes, it’s a spiral. “Tim did the labels.”

Jon glances up at Tim, both impressed and worried. “You didn’t—”

“Nope.” Tim pulls out a box and shows him the label, simply the word US in a rich, vibrant green. “I don’t know how detailed the ‘image’ has to be, but I’m not risking it. Everything else I tried to do the symbols they described, or…something that made sense. Like antlers for the Hunt.”

“And the ink colors? Is that corresponding to—it’s not the labels we use.”

“No. Those are the colors I’m pretty sure the fears are.”

Martin comes back in with four mugs of tea. Jon takes his with a grateful smile. “Actually, let’s start there. We’ve never really talked about the colors, beyond…”

“What I told Elias,” Tim completes.

“And the little bit you described when you took a look at all of us.”

Tim takes his own mug from Martin, and for some reason Martin’s ears turn slightly pink. Jon’s distracted for a moment until Tim muses, “It’s…weird. Some of them are obvious. Like I said, it’s super obvious the Eye is green and the Stranger is indigo, because I saw that one at the Trophy Room with no other colors interfering. And the Corruption being yellow-green is obvious because of—”

“Me,” Martin finishes.

Tim nods. “And the Spiral being yellow—Christ, that door. The others I…sort of had to guess. Even with…you know…it was hard for me to suss out. The Eye is everywhere. Looking at him is like looking at the shelves in the Archives. The scars are pretty obvious, but not completely.” He frowns. “Like the Hunt and the Slaughter. They’re really close in color. I think the Slaughter’s got a bit more orange in it, the Hunt’s a true red, but especially under the cover of the Beholding, it’s hard to tell the difference. And, actually, sometimes it’s hard to tell the Stranger from the Web at a glance. I mean, until you really start looking at them. The Web is purple, so if it’s not by itself…I mean, it’s a subtle distinction.”

Jon glances uneasily at the carefully-inked purple spiderweb, then turns away. It still bothers him.

They manage to get nearly two hours into their discussion, moving from the colors to the Stranger threads they’ve picked up to what Jon’s gleaned from Gertrude’s laptop. Tim is just jabbing a pin into Nairobi on the map when Sasha stiffens and glances over her shoulder. “Incoming.”

Jon’s about to ask what she’s talking about when the door opens and Elias pokes his head in with a patently false smile. “Knock, knock.”

Tim and Martin make nearly identical noises of frustration. Jon clasps his hands behind his back and gives Elias his best I’m-annoyed-at-being-interrupted-but-you’re-my-superior-so-I’ll-be-polite look, which is only partly put-on. “Can we help you, Elias?”

“I simply wanted to see how you were progressing with finding out about the Unknowing.” Elias looks around the room with interest, and Jon has to work hard to use the tricks Jon Prime has been teaching him to keep his excitement from being obvious. Martin and Tim are right; Elias can’t see into this room. “What have you uncovered so far?”

Jon is immensely proud of his team. They manage to weave an incredibly tight explanation of how much they’ve learned, within limits, that doesn’t let on how much information they were given ahead of time, listing steps without revealing that anything other than chance led them to it. Elias completely acts the part of the mildly interested academic and bureaucrat, but he’s also obviously fishing for information. Martin does a masterful job of acting like he’s falling directly into Elias’ traps while neatly sidestepping them, Tim cracks jokes at the appropriate times to distract him while putting just enough bite into them that Elias will assume they’re simply angry and sarcastic jabs, and Sasha throws a flurry of technical terms into the discussion that are certainly relevant to the topic at hand but serve to make Elias change the tack of his questioning. Like Jon, she knows the value of a well-placed info dump.

There is no redirecting him from the map, however. While he must have known about Gertrude’s travels, at least in a general sense, it’s clear he knew little about her actual movements. Jon masks his reluctance with annoyance and gives Elias a clipped version of his findings.

“Is there any significance to the colors of pins you have used?” he asks, gesturing to the map, where they’ve been marking out Gertrude’s travels. “Or is it random? Or for the…aesthetic?”

“We were trying to do it by what year she took the trip, but we only have so many colors,” Jon answers. “We’ve just switched over. Red are trips that were very definitely expensed back to the Institute, white are ones that were not, and yellow are the ones where we aren’t quite sure.”

“Mm…Gertrude did request a rather high travel budget, comparatively. Of course, if the Archivist job was as simple as it is in other institutions, she would have required no travel whatsoever, but in her capacity to stop the rituals…” Elias seems particularly fascinated by the pin on Beijing. “Why is this one in blue?”

“We just haven’t swapped the pin over yet. That’s one of the last trips we have a record of in Gertrude’s laptop.” Tim tilts his head at Jon. “From, what, six months before she died?”

“Closer to nine. Actually, Martin, can you change that one out, please?” Jon gestures at the box. “It’s a yellow one, I think.”

Martin mumbles an excuse me and switches out the pin. Elias purses his lips thoughtfully. “I don’t recall there being a ritual anywhere near Beijing at the time. What could have sent her there?”

“No idea. What’s bothering me is that we don’t know where she went from there.”

That draws Elias’ attention away from the map and back to Jon. “Surely she came back to London.”

“No.” Jon folds his arms over his chest. “Or at least, not that we can find. As I said, we’re largely tracing these trips from booking confirmations sent to Gertrude’s email address, and she largely purchased one-way tickets. Her last flight purchased out of London was to Paris, and then she booked a flight from Paris to Beijing. From there…I don’t know. I suppose she was buying tickets as she went along. It’s not like her credit card statements list where the flights went, only what airlines she flew and when she purchased the tickets. No hotel accommodations, though. Doubtless she paid cash, or else Gerard paid for those.”

“Gerard?” Elias says with interest. “Gerard Keay? Who told you he was traveling with Gertrude?”

Panic strikes Jon. Most likely it’s something he gleaned from Jon Prime—but on the other hand, did the Primes actually mention that? Flustered, he stammers, “I—someone must have—”

“No, no one told you. You Knew.” Elias sounds delighted.

“I probably just—gleaned it from the statements.” Jon glances at the shelves.

“No, Jon, this is a good thing. You’re getting stronger! It’s one thing to be able to—” Elias gestures vaguely and almost dismissively at Tim and Martin “—glean something from somebody in the room, but just Knowing something like that, that’s a big step.”

He sounds like a proud father, and it makes Jon feel incredibly uncomfortable. He balls his hands into fists, gathering up the cuffs of the sweater he definitely didn’t steal from either Tim or Martin, to stop himself from reaching out to one of them for protection. It’s stupid. Elias won’t hurt him, not here, not now; he needs him too much. He knows he’s safe. It just feels…dangerous, and he wants them to make him feel safer. Rather than risk Elias knowing how much he depends on them and doing something about it, he grips the sweater.

Elias practically beams at him. “It seems to me your next step should be obvious.”

“It should?”

“You should start retracing her steps. Are her notes from this trip on there?”

“Ah—no.”

“Then you’ll need to go where she was. Find out where she stayed, what she did.” Elias clasps his hands behind his back. “Where she went from there. How soon do you think you can leave?”

Jon blinks. This is going a bit faster than he expected. He turns to Tim and Martin. “Do you two have a passport?”

Martin looks a bit stunned. “N-no, I’ve never—never needed one?”

“Mine’s still in good standing,” Tim answers. “But if Martin needs one, that’d be—what, four weeks, at a minimum?”

“Jon, I asked when you would be able to leave,” Elias says, mildly enough but with a bit of steel behind it. “Your assistants need to stay here. We do need to get all of this straightened out still, and there’s research that needs to be done from here. You can relay whatever information you find back to the Archives, and I’m sure they can assist you if needed, but really, the Institute can’t spare the funds to reimburse more than one of you for an extended trip.”

Jon is pretty sure that’s a lie, but he knows Elias won’t reimburse them, and he also knows that neither Tim nor Martin can actually afford to pay their own way to come along, not with the house payments and Martin’s mother’s medical bills. He sighs heavily and fights to maintain eye contact with Elias. “I can get a flight out Sunday night or Monday morning.”

“Monday will be fine,” Elias says without batting an eyelash. Jon knows Sunday, statistically speaking, is the most expensive day to fly, so anything to save the Institute a few pence, he supposes. “Well, it seems you’ve all done marvelously well. I think you all deserve to take a half-day today. With pay. Finish up what you need to do here, and you can leave at twelve. Jon, do keep me appraised of your flight information.” He flashes them an absolutely terrifying smile, turns on his heel, and leaves the room.

The second the door shuts behind him, Jon sags, bracing himself against the table. “God.”

Sasha collapses into a chair, looking absolutely wiped out. “Tell me about it.”

“Hold on.” Martin picks up Jon’s mug, then Sasha’s, and slips out of the room.

Tim tentatively reaches out and touches Jon’s arm. “Sit down before you fall down. You look almost as bad as she does.”

“I’m all right.” Jon sits down anyway, grateful for Tim’s concern.

A phone buzzes from somewhere; Jon instinctively reaches for his pocket before remembering that he hasn’t replaced it yet. He spent longer than he should have trying to resurrect his shattered phone after Martin silently handed him its remains, but finally had to give up. “Is that yours, Tim?”

“No, I think it’s Martin’s.”

With that rare sort of timing that almost never happens, Martin comes back in, bearing two brimming mugs of tea; he hands one to Sasha, then one to Jon. He has to bend over to do it, and Jon brushes a quick kiss against his cheek as it comes past before he loses his nerve, then tries to play it off like he didn’t notice he did it. “Your phone went off.”

Martin’s ears are pink, and he goes to pick up his phone rather quickly. He actually snorts with laughter and shakes his head, a slightly amused smile on his face as he taps out a reply.

“Everything okay?” Tim asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, it’s from Melanie. Just says ‘Jet lag sucks balls.’ I’m guessing she’s back in town.” Martin slips his phone into his pocket and sighs. “What do we do now?”

“Unfortunately,” Jon mutters, “I think we do what Elias said. Finish up what we’re doing here, and leave early.” He looks over at Sasha. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Sasha manages a smile that even Jon can tell is fake, then drops it immediately and sighs. “I was trying to keep on top of how much he knew, or thought we knew. It’s a weird sort of balancing act…thing. Like keeping just the right tension on a rope.”

“Sasha.” Martin sounds upset. “You were reading his mind?”

“Just—skimming the surface,” Sasha protests.

Jon sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You have to stop doing that. I know it’s tempting. God knows I know that. But you can’t just—and you knew he was coming. Was that intentional?”

“Sort of. It’s not like I’m constantly trying to read his mind or whatever, but…I don’t know. I just got a sense of…something.”

“All right, Gwen Stacey,” Tim says with a smirk. “Jon’s right, though, you’ve got to quit feeding it or it’s going to start feeding on you.”

Sasha sighs heavily. “I’m…trying to try.”

“Well, it’s a start.” Jon takes a sip of tea.

They get the room straightened up, then head back into the Archives. Martin keeps periodically replying to text messages on his phone, but the others don’t ask. It’s not until Jon, having brought his laptop out to join the others, is finalizing his booking that he frowns at his screen and looks up at the others. “Melanie wants to know if the rest of you’d like to join us for lunch, seeing as we’ve got the afternoon off and everything.”

Jon hesitates. On the one hand, he’d like to decline; he and Melanie tend to prick at each other whenever they interact, despite his best intentions. On the other hand, he admittedly wants to spend as much time with Tim and Martin as he can before he leaves on this trip. Heaven knows how long he’ll be gone and he’ll miss them, he knows that.

“If I’m included in that,” he says at last, “I’d be honored.”

They lock up at twelve and head to the pub Jon has begun to think of as “theirs”, even though they don’t go often. It’s cool and overcast, and there are definite signs it rained earlier, most notably the worms on the sidewalk. Jon notices Martin carefully avoiding treading on them and reaches over to take his hand comfortingly just as Tim throws his arm around his shoulders from the other side. It makes Sasha laugh, which makes them laugh, too, and at least gets Martin to stop watching his feet.

Pat waves when they come in and gestures to one of the tables, and Martin steps forward with a warm smile as Melanie King rises from a chair and meets him with a hug that would probably make Jon jealous if he didn’t know Martin was gay, and also if he had any right to be jealous. “God, it is…surprisingly good to see you.”

Martin huffs a laugh. “I’m not sure how to take that.”

Melanie actually laughs and gives Martin a friendly punch on the arm. Martin laughs in earnest as he reels back in an exaggerated manner, rubbing at his arm. “Ow! Hey, I need that!”

“Sure.” Melanie turns and offers Sasha a smile and her hand. “Sasha, good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too.” Sasha shakes her hand, then turns slightly. “Sorry, don’t think we’ve met.”

Jon turns, too, and his brain pulls up short. She’s changed up her hairstyle and shed her glasses, there’s a tattoo peeking out from under the collar of her t-shirt, and he’s pretty sure there are a couple additional holes in her ears, but the smile is unmistakable to someone who’s spent six years running from it.

“Georgie,” he stammers.

Georgie Barker’s smile gets a bit more uncertain, but there’s at least no hostility in her eyes. “Jon, hello. I didn’t expect to see you.”

“I, ah—” Jon gestures vaguely, either at Martin or at Melanie, he’s not sure which.

Melanie shrugs. “I did say the invitation was open to everyone. Kind of didn’t expect you to accept, to be honest, but—”

“Frankly, it’s been a shit month and we’re an all-or-nothing deal right now,” Martin says. He looks slightly quizzical and slightly worried as he eyes Georgie. “I—did I talk to you on the phone once?”

“Right, introductions. Georgie Barker, Martin Blackwood, Sasha James, and—” Melanie waves at Tim. “I actually haven’t got a clue who you are.”

“There are some who call me….Tim?” Tim quips with an arch of the eyebrows.

It’s the right thing to say to diffuse the tension, especially as Melanie and Martin both let out exaggerated groans as Georgie, who consumed every bit of media even vaguely associated with Arthurian legend during a time when she was obsessed enough to qualify as a minor expert on the subject, bursts into laughter. The six of them arrange themselves around the table as Pat brings over a tray of pints, then takes their food orders and heads off to get them together.

Martin takes a sip of his pint and evidently starts to speak three times before saying in a carefully neutral voice, “I hope you had a…successful trip.”

Melanie lifts an eyebrow at him. “You were a lot less cagey before. Is it them?”

“No, I’m a bit tired,” Martin says. “Like I said, it’s been…a lot.” He hesitates, glancing at Georgie for a brief second, then evidently gives up. “Remember how I said we all had…weird stuff we could do? My thing is that I can make people answer questions when I ask them. And if I’m tired or not really paying attention, sometimes I do it without meaning to, and that’s not fair to you.”

“I don’t believe you.” Melanie folds her arms over her chest. “Prove it.”

Martin hesitates. “Okay, um…what made you so upset when I asked if you wanted to come to lunch with me when we met?”

“If you weren’t a bloke, you’d be exactly my type and I had just a second where I wondered if I was actually a lesbian,” Melanie answers automatically, then blinks. “Fuck.”

Martin’s face catches fire. Tim grins and winks. “That just proves you’ve got taste.”

“Yeah, well, still.” Melanie presses her lips tightly together. “S’pose I can’t get too mad. I did tell you to prove it. Not your fault I didn’t actually expect it to work.” She snorts. “Successful? Yeah, I guess. I found out what I went to find out. And I didn’t die, so…promise kept?” She shrugs. “I owe you the whole story, but maybe not here.”

“Come by the Institute on Monday,” Sasha offers. “We can get your statement—oh, right.” She looks at Jon. “That okay with you?”

“No, that’s fine. Ah, take your pick on who you want to tell it to,” Jon says to Melanie, indicating the other three. “I promise you don’t have to deal with me.”

“I don’t mind all that much,” Melanie says with a sideways glance at Georgie. “You’re not…actually that bad to talk to. At least you’re trying not to be a prick.”

Georgie turns a laugh into a cough. Jon studiously avoids looking at her. “Thank you, I think, but I didn’t mean that in a ‘you can choose to talk to someone else’ way. I meant that as in ‘I’m leaving on a business trip Monday morning, so I won’t even be there.’”

“A business trip—for an Archivist? What, are you going to the Library of Alexandria or something?”

“No, the last one blew that up,” Tim says under his breath.

Jon kicks Tim under the table. “Beijing. My…predecessor traveled there some time before her death, but she didn’t leave any notes behind on what she may have learned there. So, lucky me, I get to follow behind her and try to pick up a three-year-old trail.”

“You can’t tell me the idea of piecing together something like that doesn’t appeal to you,” Georgie says, sounding amused. “What’s your—hang on, what was it called—your PFX count these days?”

“I haven’t—yes, all right, I suppose the idea of the hunt’s not altogether unwelcome,” Jon admits. “I just…would really rather not be doing it right now. For God’s sake, I only just got back from my last—unexpected absence.”

Martin’s hand tightens on his glass. Tim takes a huge swallow of his. Georgie looks back and forth between the two of them, then frowns at Jon. “So why are you leaving so quickly? If it’s been three years, it’s not like the clues are going anywhere.”

“Yes, but the situation is…somewhat time-sensitive.”

“Critical,” Martin supplies.

“Life-or-death, you might say,” Tim offers.

Georgie’s frown deepens. “You’re an Archivist. Which I’m still wrapping my brain around, by the way. You were a researcher, Jon. I know you don’t just have a degree in library science lying around.”

“No,” Jon says with a sigh. “The Archives at the Magnus Institute are…interesting, let’s put it that way. Library training in the actual Archivist is surprisingly less important than you might think. Besides, we have Martin, and what he doesn’t know about organizing and categorizing isn’t worth knowing.”

“Christ.” Martin buries his face one hand. Both Sasha and Melanie snicker at him. If the two of them are going to be friends, Jon thinks, God help them all.

Only Georgie can manage to frown while simultaneously arching an eyebrow in a knowing fashion. Jon tries very hard to pretend he doesn’t understand what she thinks she knows. “So you have a degree in library science.”

“No,” Martin says, voice still muffled by his palm. “I don’t have a degree. But I worked in the library at the Institute for ten years before I got assigned to the Archives, so I kind of know what I’m doing.”

“Right. Still. What do you have to do, as an Archivist, in China, that is life or death?”

Protect my team, Jon wants to say but doesn’t. The ritual, according to the Primes, can’t succeed; Orsinov’s Unknowing will collapse on itself. They’re probably going to try to stop it anyway, because he doesn’t doubt that Orsinov will survive the ritual’s failure and try again, and they can’t let anyone else fall prey to that. This world tour, retracing Gertrude’s steps, won’t give them any information to help them with that. But Elias doesn’t know they know that, and Jon can’t risk what he might do to the people he loves if he doesn’t obey orders.

“It’s…a long story,” he tries.

Georgie shrugs. “I’ve done my recordings for the week and I’ve got plenty of time for editing. And I thought you got off early today.”

Pat turns up then with everyone’s lunch. Jon waits until he heads back behind the bar to say, “I don’t…know where to begin, honestly. Trust me when I say it’s all pretty unbelievable.”

“You’re an archivist. We left believable behind a while ago.”

“Ha, ha.” Jon gives Georgie his best glare. As usual, she sticks her tongue out at him and rolls her hand for him to continue. “I—really, I don’t know where to—”

“Jon.” Martin sets down his glass, reaches over, and covers Jon’s hand with his own. Jon meets his eyes instinctively. “In thirty words or less, what is the story behind this trip?”

“There are monsters in the world, tied to different fears,” Jon answers immediately. “They’re trying to reshape the world in their own image and basically kickstart the Apocalypse. We’re trying to stop them.”

Martin sits back, looking miserable, and it’s only then Jon registers the wash of static receding from his mind. “Sorry, Jon. I really should have asked first.”

Jon grabs Martin’s hand before he can pull it away and squeezes. “I’d have sat here dithering to the end of time if you hadn’t. Thank you, Martin.”

Martin manages a tentative smile. Georgie’s frown has eased back a little. “Huh. How many of these things are there?”

“Monsters? Or rituals?” Jon blinks at Georgie. “You believe me?”

“Well, yeah.” Georgie waves a hand as if to say duh. “It’s not like I didn’t know there are monsters in the world.”

Sasha’s hand tightens on her fork, and she pushes back from the table abruptly. “Be right back. I—I need a minute.” She strides purposefully for the front door.

“Sasha, don’t—” Jon begins to call after her, but too late; she’s out the door.

“Did I say something wrong?” Georgie looks concerned.

Martin sighs heavily. “I’m going to go out on a limb and assume you’ve seen…monsters before.”

“Yeah? What’s that got to do with anything?” Georgie asks with a deepening frown.

“Oh…damn.” Jon looks at Georgie, and now he can feel it, too—the static building behind his eyes, an almost imperceptible itch beneath his skin. This shouldn’t be happening, he’s taken two statements already this week, first Michael’s and then Tim and Martin’s, and even if Sasha siphoned off most of that one…he can’t possibly need one this badly, not now. But it’s not need, it’s want, it’s a desire at this point, so he can fight it…

“The Institute serves one of those fear things we’re talking about,” Tim tells her, his voice subdued. “In our case, it’s about knowledge and secrets and…hidden information and stuff like that. We usually just call it the Eye, it’s quicker than most of the other names. But one of the ways it sort of feeds itself is with other people’s stories of their spooky encounters. Usually with something touched by one of the other beings.”

“You’ve got a story to tell,” Martin explains. “The Eye wants it. And Sasha and Jon can both…” He hesitates, looking at Jon. “Sense it?”

“Better than saying ‘smell it,’ I suppose,” Jon says softly. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, forcing the static back.

Georgie blinks. “I mean…I’ll tell you about it. If you want.”

“That…would probably not be a good idea. I can’t—we can’t take but so many statements in any given period of time.” Jon opens his eyes, feeling a bit calmer. “Not without wearing ourselves out, or hurting ourselves. And I’ve had two already this week.”

“And we’ve had one each,” Tim adds, gesturing to himself and Martin. “Right? You just read—”

“Statement of Manuela Dominguez, regarding her unconventional religious beliefs and their intersection with her project aboard the space station Daedalus,” Martin recites. “And you read yours yesterday, it was—”

“Not, as it turns out, a Stranger statement. The Web. Statement of Darren Harlow, regarding a failed psychology experiment at the University of Surrey.” Tim rubs his forehead and sighs. “Actually, I need to talk to you two about that one. We may have a problem.”

Melanie looks back and forth between the two of them, blinking. Jon sighs, too. “Anyway, yes, it’s…there’s a lot. The ritual we’re trying to stop right now is the Stranger’s. It’s—kind of the opposite of the Eye? The ritual’s called the Unknowing. We’re still piecing together what it’s all about, but anyway, that’s what I’m about to go haring off around the world about. Which I would really rather not do, but I don’t have much of a choice. Our boss made that perfectly clear.” He can’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Sasha comes back in, looking much calmer, and slips back into her seat with an apology. Melanie looks at Tim. “So what about you, then? If he can ask questions and make people answer, and they can tell when someone’s got a story—”

“It’s not quite that. It’s more—” Sasha spreads out her hands. “Less stories and more secrets. Things people haven’t told. At least, that’s how it is for me. The ones who come to make statements and will talk to anyone, they’re not as interesting to me. It’s the ones who just…don’t want to talk about it, I guess. Or choose not to. Sometimes I know things without meaning to, but I’m trying to throttle that back. Jon is more…all of it.”

Jon nods. “I have the—the question thing, too. And the knowing, although it’s not just hidden things, it’s facts or important information. It’s not as bad as it could be, but it’s getting worse. On top of that, there’s the compulsion to read out the statements, and…it’s just a lot.”

“None of which actually answers my question,” Melanie says. “What did you get out of all this?”

“Oh. I can…look at people, or things, and see if they’ve had anything to do with one of the fear…things,” Tim says. “They glow different colors.”

“You can see auras,” Georgie supplies.

“Not—exactly. I mean, I can’t say ‘oh, you have a calm personality’ or ‘you’re a very troubled person’ or anything like that. But if you’ve bumped into one of the powers, if I concentrate, I can see where it marked you and…usually figure out from there.”

Georgie folds her hands on the table and meets his eye. “What color is mine, then? Or am I making it up?”

Tim hesitates, then takes a deep breath. His eyes go slightly unfocused, and Jon feels the faint crackle of static—not quite the same as when Martin asks questions or Sasha blurts out a secret, but close, like the dial on a disused radio station turned a single click in a different direction. After a moment, Tim’s shoulders relax and he blinks. “White. Bright white. The one you’ve met is Terminus. The End.” He hesitates. “Death. Am I right?”

There’s a short pause before Georgie looks at Jon and says, “You’ve got a good bunch here.”

Jon looks at both Tim and Martin and says, softly, “I know.”

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall) #tma #the magnus archives #jonmartim #emotional manipulation tw #implied blackmail tw #slight misuse of beholding powers

[sokkastyles]

There are some people falsely claiming that you call others abuse apologists. What is abuse apologism?

Are there? I’ve said a couple of times that certain things are abuse apologism or reminiscent of abuse apologist rhetoric, which isn’t the same thing as saying a person is an abuse apologist. I’ve made it clear that it’s what someone is saying that I disagree with, but I’m also not going to tolerate harmful rhetoric.

Abuse apologism can be a lot of different things, from minimizing abuse to implying or stating that a victim deserved it. I’m trying to think of specific times where I said that, and I’ve talked a lot about the Azula vs Zuko stuff on tumblr because frankly, a lot of that IS abuse apologism. Stuff like trying to argue that things Azula did were really Zuko’s fault or painting him reacting to her when she’s being violent towards him as violence on his part, or the argument that I’ve also seen that it’s “no one’s fault” and they just have a mutual rivalry. I mean, ultimately, it’s Ozai’s fault, but Azula does share some of the blame there for the way she treats him and they don’t have a mutual rivalry, their relationship is very much unbalanced in her favor. Ozai created that dynamic, but Azula takes advantage of it.

I guess people may be referring to is my tag on this post about fans insisting that it’s wrong to see Zuko as nice or soft in any way because he’s “an asshole.” Which is just flat out wrong and OOC characterization, but the reason it’s abuse apologism is because a lot of the reasons people say that Zuko is an asshole are because of traits that he has because of being a victim of abuse. Of course, being abused does not excuse hurting others, but some of the things listed in that post aren’t Zuko being an asshole or a bad person, like hating being seen as weak. That’s a trait he has because of being a victim of violent abuse. Being in situations where he is vulnerable are difficult and even triggering for him, and that’s not something that should be treated as a mark against him. Especially since we’re shown that he very much craves that kind of human connection and actively works on getting better. Like, more than possibly any other character like this that I’ve ever seen in genre fiction. There are a lot of times when he puts himself in situations where he is incredibly vulnerable and you see that it’s hard for him to do, but he does it because he wants to be a good person and own up to his mistakes. Specifically I’ve talked about the scene where he tells the gaang that he’s lost his firebending. He’s angry and frustrated, but he’s not hurting anybody, and he’s taking responsibility for his own actions, and I’ve seen people call him an asshole for that scene specifically because he gets mad when Katara and Sokka are deliberately trying to provoke him. He’s entitled to be mad, he’s entitled to be upset. He’s NOT entitled to hurt other people but that’s a different thing entirely, and Zuko spends the ENTIRE SERIES learning the difference so it’s kind of ridiculous for people to still hold this against him.

Note that I am NOT saying that the gaang is abusive to Zuko for holding a grudge against him for chasing them across the world. I’m saying that you, the audience, have to be conscious of WHY he acts like that and criticizing him in this way for situations where he isn’t at fault is similar to abuse apologist rhetoric, and it’s dangerous to validate that kind of rhetoric. Another thing I get testy about, on a related note, is people calling Zuko “dramatic.” Yes, Zuko does get overly emotional. Yes, sometimes he overreacts in ways that are negative, and it’s not other people’s responsibility, especially if he is hurting others, to just put up with it. However, you do have to be conscious of the words you use to describe this, especially since this language is, sometimes word for word, the same language that his father and sister use to describe him and justify mistreating him. Azula literally calls Zuko dramatic when he’s worrying over the war meeting, and both she and their father regularly dismiss his feelings. Dramatic is a word with a negative connotation that is used to invalidate someone’s feelings, and in that particular situation, Zuko isn’t worried about the war meeting for no reason, he is literally being triggered. The last time he went into a war meeting uninvited, his father burned his face. It doesn’t take a genius to understand why he would agonize over making sure he was invited the next time.

Zuko’s arc is really complex because one of the things it does really well is portray how hard it is for him to take responsibility for his actions when he’s been repeatedly blamed for things that aren’t his fault. One of the things that is insidious about abuse is that it makes it really hard to separate out negative feelings, to separate out the things he should be feeling guilty for from the things that were never his fault, and Zuko at the beginning of the series is entitled and acting like an asshole but he’s also directing very intense guilt and self-blame at himself that he doesn’t deserve. That’s very common for kids, especially. He acts out in anger towards people who don’t deserve it and he doesn’t act angry towards the people he should be angry at. That’s also why I push back against people saying it’s wrong for Zuko to be angry, particularly when people point to instances of him feeling righteous anger towards the end of the series. Righteous anger is good and healthy. Wanting his girlfriend to be angry with him and feeling hurt that she isn’t is also good and healthy. Acting out of jealousy because she’s talking to another guy is NOT, but like, he’s sixteen and dealing with stuff that most adults would struggle with, and he STOPS that particular behavior as soon as he is called out on it. That’s good and healthy, too. Learning from your mistakes is healthy. Learning to deal with negative emotions in healthy ways is good. And Zuko deserves to be praised for that. Insisting that he should be constantly condemned for things that he actively worked to atone for feels an awful lot like abuse apologism because that’s exactly the way Ozai treated him, like nothing he could do would be good enough and he had to perform impossible tasks to keep his abuser happy.

#zuko #abuse cw

[deliriumsdelight7]

For the writer ask meme:

Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

I'm going to focus on FFA for this.

So, last chapter, I invented two locations out of necessity. The first is the nameless establishment LeFou frequents: 1284 130th Street. This was a reference to Hamelin, the town which the Pied Piper kidnapped children from. In the year 1284, 130 children were taken and never seen again. This isn't to say that the establishment had children. I deliberately left the details vague so the reader could use their own imagination for what horrors the building contained. But I was listening to a song about the Pied Piper as I was writing, so I figured, "why not?"

The second location, "Ole Luke Oje's Sweet Dreams Motel," was a reference to the Sandman fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen: Ole Lukøje. In it, a young boy accompanies the sandman (who is called Ole Lukøje) for a week through the world of dreams, and is told stories. At the end of the week, the sandman shows the boy his brother, Death (another Ole Lukøje). It seemed like a fitting reference: a place where you expect to go to sleep, but instead die. Also, the the two people we see working at the motel are characters from Neil Gaiman's Sandman graphic novels. Anybody who's read the comics will know by my username that I'm a fan of them, so I couldn't resist putting them in. Murph is Morpheus/Dream/Sandman, and Didi is his older sister, Death. So they're greeted at the front desk by Dream, and Death handles the cleanup.

I'm putting my last detail behind a tag because it contains a vague spoiler for a future event at a nonspecified time in FFA.

In the first John Wick movie, it's mentioned that the title character did horrible, indescribable things to free himself from life under the Table. One specific thing that's mentioned is how he managed to kill three people with "a fucking pencil." And uh... I've mentioned a few times that Gold has an antique, gold-tipped fountain pen in his interior jacket pocket. And, to quote Forrest Gump, "That's all I have to say about that."

#TMI Tuesday #ask answered #eirian-houpe #fortis fortuna adiuvat fic

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

Grace Heals 01: How Did You Betray Simon?

This is dedicated to the growth and wellness of Grace Monroe. I hadn’t seen much fic content for where Grace may go next that wasn’t centered around “fixing” the series. I don’t feel like it needs fixing, but just wanted to venture where I’d love to see Grace go and be as she works on things after we last see her in Book 3. So, everything that was canon precedes this story that I’ve began for my beloved baby girl @pearlseleganciess and my sister @andromidagalaxie (I cannot tag you sis, I don’t understand why, so I’m sorry, but this goes out to you). @i-am-a-passenger Idek if you wanna read it, but it seems like something we’d be on about in the messages, so I’m tagging you at least to this one to see how you feel.

“How did you betray Simon?”

Grace had been standing there for a while, after having had every denizen plaything brought to her so that she could try to see if they could be mended. She was taking a break whenever Lucy’s voice rescued her from her thoughts, but it took her a moment to try to process the question. “How did I, or why did I? We have to get in the habit of clarifying our questions before giving our answers, so that we know what we’re saying. That way… There are no misunderstandings and if anybody is hurt, it’s not because we lied to them.”

“Is that how it happened? You were unclear when you lied to him?” Lucy sounded a little disappointed in that thought.

“No. I was clear. I deliberately lied. I thought that I was doing what was best, and I stand by it. But… I get that… maybe if Simon and I could’ve been clearer sooner, understood each other more instead of just leaning into what we thought we needed… Maybe I wouldn’t have felt like I needed to lie to protect Hazel. Maybe we would’ve been better for each other. Maybe we wouldn’t have misguided so many kids that I genuinely wanted to help in the same way that I thought I was helping Simon…” 

Lucy picked up Simon’s book and began scribbling in it. “If we’re going to change our language, maybe I should edit out every usage of the N word.” Grace appreciated that she took the liberty of doing so on her own, instead of looking to her for permission. “Replace the Null of Dissention with… The Denizen of… Repentance?… No. That’s too long. I’ll just put H.. was it Hazel?” Grace’s eyes welled with tears and Lucy’s good eye noted it. She nodded once, “It was Hazel,” she said, going through to edit. 

She stared at the book for a while longer, then finally said, “I meant how. How did you betray Simon? I didn’t know him as long as you did, and I didn’t like him as much as you did, but it was still really hard for me not to listen to him. Even when what he said sounded wrong. What he said about you didn’t sound like you. But, I believed him. I trusted him. How did you figure out how to not trust him? How did you decide not to follow the king?” Lucy looked shaky, regretful. She was asking for instructions, not for Grace to explain herself. 

Still, Grace had to be certain, just like she promised, to be clear about the conversations she had with others and to answer them to the best of her knowledge. She couldn’t be a know-it-all anymore. She had to just be honest and straightforward, even when she didn’t know, and do her best to understand what was being asked of her, instead of presuming. “Lucy… Are you asking me this as a way to help you figure out how to learn to stick up for yourself?”

“I want to be brave enough to overthrow an unfit leader. Simon was an unfit leader. A lot of us had to have known. I couldn’t be the only one who didn’t like... the changes…”

Grace sighed and nodded her head. She sat down, legs sprawled and rested her elbows on her knees as she thought, “Well… I think that first and foremost, the important thing to understand is that even if you were the only one who didn’t like it, there’s nothing wrong with that. There’s nothing wrong with not thinking like everyone else. There’s nothing wrong with thinking for yourself and having a different opinion than other people. The problem isn’t in our opinions, but our actions. Whenever I… realized that I cared about Hazel, I knew that Simon had a different opinion, but… my actions. I wanted so much to keep what I had with Simon, to keep our peace, to keep him happy, I hurt a little girl that thought I cared about her. I couldn’t take that back.”

“We were going to wheel you… Can… can we not take that back?” Lucy asked, worried.

“The good news is that I made it. I know how it feels to let down a friend and to hurt them, and I never want to make you feel that way. As long as we’re both still here, there is time to change, and time to talk it out. So, to answer your question, we can’t undo what we’ve already done, but we can use what we learn from what we did wrong to do better in the future.”

“But… Do you hate us? Doesn’t some part of you hate us, like Simon hated you when you betrayed him?” Lucy was now losing her tough exterior and clenching the book tightly.

Grace reached out and touched her shoulder. She loosened up and Grace took the book from her and tossed it aside to hold both of her hands.

“I could never hate you, Lucy. You and me, we’ve gone through something together that has forever changed us. I’m really glad that you have a better chance now.”

Lucy shook her head and started crying, “But, what if we had wheeled you? What if we had wheeled you like all of those nulls that we’ve wheeled, and now have to think about how wrong it was for us to do that to them? What if we had to think about that too? About having done it to you?”

“You didn’t! You didn’t!” Grace said, trying to calm her. 

She reached for a hug, but Lucy resisted and shook her head. “I called you a void. I knew that it didn’t seem right, but I still listened to Simon. You should be throwing me to the wheels.”

Grace clasped her hands together and sputtered out a breath. “Nobody should be thrown to the wheels. Believe it or not, I wouldn’t have even wanted that for Simon. I loved him more than I can put into words. From the first time I saw that I needed to protect him, that’s… just what I did. It was nice, to be needed. It was nice to have someone see me and see the best,” Tears were in Grace’s eyes now, “And it was so hard to have him see me and see the worst. For a moment, I even thought that I deserved it. I thought, what I’m guessing you’re thinking, that because I did something to hurt him, maybe I had to do more to help him.”

“You told him a stupid lie and he tried to kill you. I feel like that’s an overreaction,” Lucy complained. “He failed us.”

“No, Lucy. We failed you. He’s just the one who didn’t live to fix it.”

“Shouldn’t all fall on you,” Lucy said and kicked Simon’s book off the table.

“And, it doesn’t. Remember, we’re doing this together. I can try to help you, but I can’t fix everything. But, you have me here and I’m telling you the truth when I say that you deserve to get to change. Everybody does.”

“Then, why can’t everybody change? Why couldn’t Simon?”

Grace shook her head and blinked away more stinging tears, “I can’t answer for Simon, but maybe a part of life continuing is not having an answer for everything. Maybe… we’ll all do our best to find answers that are good and sound, because we saw how… badly it could end… if we’re not willing to see any other ways but our own.  I know I'm willing to give it my best shot." Lucy nodded her head and finally was ready for a hug. Grace squeezed her tightly, thinking of Hazel, but not wanting to equate Lucy and Hazel. They were both two very different little girls. She had regrets about Hazel, but she had also come to terms with that mentally. Maybe she would see her again, but probably not and she couldn’t equate every kid she knew with Hazel; just like she shouldn’t have equated every kid she met with a sad short boy in socks and sandals.

But, she was never going to stop loving either of them. That was just… How she was. People didn’t get close to her and the ones who had… Well, she was going to have to learn how to let other people get close too. It would take some of these kids a long time to trust this new evolution of hers, but most of them wanted to. 

Lucy had wanted to. “Umm… Grace?”

“Yes, Lucy?”

“Can… you stop hugging me. It’s getting a little uncomfortable.” Grace quickly let go and placed her hand on the back of her neck, laughing. Lucy just smiled at her, almost like you would some poor silly fool. “Thank you for clearing it up,” Lucy said and picked up Simon’s book off of the floor. “On second thought, I don’t think we need this. I’m gonna wheel it,” Lucy said. Grace wanted to stop her, for sentimental reasons, but… None of the other kids touched Simon’s things. There would be something that she could hold on to, whenever she had the nerve to go in there. That book… it was probably filled with things that she never wanted to think about, with all the parts of Simon that she didn’t quite notice until she started changing. 

“Lucy!” She called after her, realizing that she had never answered her question. The girl stopped, panicked for a moment, thinking that maybe she had done something wrong. “I changed. That’s how I betrayed him. I became a person that valued something more than I valued what we had, what we built.”

“But… you built something that was bad,” Lucy said. Grace nodded. “So, you changed into someone good.”

“I changed into someone who was thinking from a good place. I don’t know if I feel comfortable saying that I became good.”

“I feel comfortable saying it, because I have a different opinion than you, and that’s okay.” Grace smiled at Lucy as she trotted along to the door to get rid of the book. At least somebody believed that she was good.

#Infinity Train #Nesha Fanfiction #Infinity Train Fanfiction #fics #Grace Heals #Grace Monroe Fanfic #Grace Monroe #Infinity Train Grace

[jellydishes]

wip whenever! tagged by nobody, tagging anybody who wants to play

this is a continuation of a final fantasy seven story i've left hanging for several years called step on a crack:

He found himself making the trip up to the rooftop garden more often than he'd expected, which would have been zero times. Without Yazoo there to take care of it the plants had started to get even worse than they already had been, and he begrudgingly hauled himself up there every day to water them and check for any obvious signs of parasites or fungi. "Just you watch," he found himself muttering to some kind of flowering bush several days in, "you're gonna go right off the roof at the first sign of weakness. Midgar way, y'know."

It continued that way from one day to another, providing a weird sort of structure he hadn't expected, and was unable to decide if he liked or not.

He probably shouldn't have been as surprised as he was to find Yazoo waiting for him one night almost two weeks later. He'd been running low on liquor again, and was down to his last cigarettes, too. They rattled around the box the same way he'd rattled around his too-quiet apartment, doing his best to avoid places that reminded him of Yazoo when everywhere reminded him of Yazoo.

He stopped several flights up the fire escape, not quite looking at the familiar silhouette hunched a few steps further up. "I thought I told you what would happen if you came here again." Reno said it calmly, almost casually, but his hand trembled around the cigarette clutched between two clawed fingers. He'd hardly touched it. It was crumbling away to ash, and he refused to assign any sort of high-minded metaphor to it. All it meant was a waste.

Blue-green eyes reflected back at him in the dim light cast from the apartments below. "You did."

"Why are you here, then? Cause I'll tell you right now, you having some kind of death wish won't stop me from wrapping my hands around your throat." His only answer for several long moments was silence. It was only when Reno brought the cigarette up to finally take a drag that Yazoo spoke, making Reno stop with the cigarette just shy of his lips.

"I don't exist outside of you."

There was a brief hesitation filled with Reno's mind stuttering over those six words before he replied, "You're going to want to run that by me again. And this time don't pull that soap opera guilt crap, not unless you want this conversation to get real ugly, real fast." He didn't know why his gut felt like it was lanced with fire every time he threatened Yazoo. Or rather, he did, but he deliberately chose not to examine it the way he did most of the things in his life right now.

He caught the slight movement of Yazoo gripping his knees tight between his fingers, and frowned. "I don't mean that I physically stop existing," Yazoo started to say, and did not respond to Reno's snort before continuing. "I mean that I barely know how to exist around you as a person, but away from you, I lose the parts of myself I thought I could take for granted. I fumble. Get confused. I become… afraid," he said finally, and it was this that made Reno stop.

He flicked his cigarette away off the side of the fire escape, embers tumbling away to be forgotten in the darkness. "You have to have a heart to be afraid." It didn't come out harshly, so much as tired. That didn't make the words any less sharp, however, and he watched Yazoo's hands tighten into white knuckled half fists on his knees.

He didn't know what he expected as a response, but it wasn't for Yazoo to stand up and push himself into Reno's face. He was still fast, Reno noted distantly as Yazoo gripped him by the shirt collar. He hadn't made the slightest move to stop Yazoo, only watched those eyes narrow with something akin to relief. "You mock my pain, when you are the reason it hurts. You brought me here. I wouldn't even exist without you, wouldn't feel my heart beat faster when I see you do all of these things that…" Yazoo swallowed hard and pushed away from him just as suddenly.

Reno lurched forward even as he fell back. "No!" He rasped. He'd have been shocked to see his own face twist with something that wasn't anger for once. "You aren't going to do that again. Answer the fucking question."

Yazoo stared at him, eyes wide and mouth parted around an emotion he found difficult to parse. Then those lips worked again for a moment before Yazoo said, "Why bring me back at all, if you'll only allow me to watch you crush yourself into dust?" Yazoo's entire body was tense as a bowstring, and he wondered for a moment if Yazoo really thought he was going to hurt him before Yazoo said something else.

Reno looked back at him again, and when had Yazoo stepped close enough that Reno could almost feel him breathe? "The time is fast approaching when you have to make a choice, Reno."

"What, about you?" It was all that he could think to say, and maybe he deserved the impatience that settled into the set of Yazoo's mouth. It felt easier to understand and deal with than the pained expression. that came before it.

"About yourself. Dying is easy. And make no mistake, what you are doing now is choosing to die in slow motion. Does that satisfy you? Taking the coward's way out?" Yazoo didn't speak any more aggressively than Reno had a few minutes before, but that didn't matter. He had given Reno something to cling on to, an excuse to release the tumble of emotions whirling in his chest. He almost wondered if Yazoo had picked those words on purpose, but he pushed that away even as he grabbed Yazoo and pushed him back against the wall of the apartment building with a twist of his hand that was pure muscle memory.

"Say that again."

"Say what?" Yazoo said in that same damnably calm tone, even as Reno's hands closed around his shoulder and neck. There was something in Yazoo's expression, but Reno pushed past that, too. "That you have chosen to repent in the only way that absolves you of any effort whatsoever? Living to look your compatriots in the eye terrifies you-"

"Shut up."

"-it shakes you down to the core of your being because you love them, always have, and the idea of their forgiving you hurts almost as much as their turning away, doesn't it?"

"I said shut up!" He didn't know what he was going to do, not really, but whatever it was stopped abruptly when Yazoo lifted a hand to caress his cheek. That was the only possible word for it.

"You're waiting for permission to step away from the knife's edge, but who are you waiting to get it from?"

Reno gaped, hands going slack. "You- I'm not-"

"You are. I know, because…" Yazoo's expression darkened almost imperceptibly before he tilted his face alongside Reno's so he couldn't see it anymore. "I am waiting for that same permission. And I refuse to be the weapon you cut yourself with anymore."

"This isn't an answer," Reno said without lifting his head from where he'd very slowly, very carefully buried it against Yazoo's shoulder. "Nothing has changed just because we're hugging it out like a pair of idiots."

"You're right. But you're also wrong. Everything has changed, but only in a way you don't want to accept." In contrast to those stories Rude always got caught reading, Yazoo smelled like nothing at all, except perhaps the faintest whiff of ozone. Reno pulled closer still, words catching in his throat when Yazoo cradled the back of his head. Thoughts ended, leaving only a wordless need that wasn't for anything physical. "But… you aren't alone with it. With feeling this way, or of-" He went silent again, this time for a shorter length of time. "If you want me to stay, I will stay."

Reno wanted to tell him to stay just as much as he wanted to push away, and his mouth shook with the competing urges. Instead of either of those, he ended up saying, "Tell me."

Yazoo went very quiet. "Tell you what?"

"You've been talking and talking but haven't said anything. Tell me something real. Anything. Tell me why I'm not alone."

Yazoo eased out a slow breath, and drew in another. "I don't know that I could-" He shook his head, or started to, then settled back against Reno with a quiet sound. "I'm afraid. For myself, of course, but… I find the idea of being here without you makes things… difficult."

"Difficult how?" Reno insisted.

"I- I don't quite know. Things are still so overwhelming and hard to describe, but they make me act… irrationally. When I'm with you, I don't do those things."

#wip whenever #final fantasy vii #final fantasy seven

[panharmonium]

Hey, do you ship merthur? I have conflicted feelings about it because Merlin does love Arthur but also their relationship is kinda shitty.

short answer: i do not

longer answer: i might not be the right person to ask about this, because i don’t really “ship” anything?  it’s not how i engage with fandom.  (disclaimer: this is not a value judgment of folks who do engage with fandom that way.  just an explanation of how my own brain works.)

extra long answer: under the cut, because i suppose it was only a matter of time before someone asked me about merlin/arthur, and i might as well put my entire response in one place so that next time, i can just link to it.

questions like this are a little tough for me to answer, because i am completely uninterested in romance as a premise.  if it’s not there, i don’t care.  if it is there, i often wish it weren’t, because it’s almost never developed in a way that lives up to my standards.  i don’t always mind if something contains romantic relationships (provided they’re written well), but i don’t want them to be the point of a story.  i honestly cannot think of anything less interesting to me than a story that has as its main plotline “x character falls in love with y character.”  for me, in my brain, it’s like, “okay...that’s it?  do you have anything else to say?”  there is literally nothing about that that i care about.

this can be a little difficult to navigate in fandom, because one of the oft-heard commendations of “fandom” is ‘gosh, fandom is so wonderful, we can watch the same two characters fall in love again and again and again in a million different scenarios!’  which is true, for the people who care about that sort of thing, but that’s not actually ‘fandom.’  that’s shipping.  and there’s nothing wrong with shipping, but shipping and fandom are not the same thing, and they’ve become so conflated that it can be very difficult to engage in the latter without being absolutely swamped by the former.

many times, for me, fandom can feel synonymous with shipping.  there was a post i reblogged recently whose tags described shipping as often feeling like a prerequisite to engaging with fandom, and that is often what it feels like to me, particularly in fandoms where one ship is so ubiquitous that any and all other material is utterly dwarfed by it in scale.  (for me, my last two major fandoms have been merlin and teen wolf, so - i’m sure you see my dilemma, heh.)

all of that said, in terms of arthur and merlin specifically...

disclaimer: everything i say here is relevant to me only.  these are my own feelings.  i am making this post on my own blog, in my own space, in response to a question about my own thoughts.  i do not want, expect, or need anyone else to share these thoughts.  any commentary i make about fandom trends is not equivalent to condemnations of individual people’s opinions or shipping habits.  i do not mind or take issue with folks who ship these two characters.  i am glad you are having fun.  please do not @ me about something you disagree with.  i promise you it is not necessary.

okay.  with that out of the way.  

part of me is reluctant to expound further on this question, because my personal philosophy is that merlin and arthur as a ship have had more than enough time and space devoted to them in this fandom (way more than their share, frankly) and i generally prefer to focus on merlin and the other people in his life, as a deliberate counter to that.  but, since you asked, and because i have been experiencing the “i’m tired of romance” bug more strongly lately, here is the long-form version.

the number one reason why i don’t ship arthur and merlin is what i already outlined above: i don’t really “ship” anything.  i have never looked at two characters who were not already together/on an obvious potential path to being together and said “i want them to fall in love.”  that has just never happened to me.  (again - it’s not a BAD thing to have this happen, it’s just not something that’s ever happened to me.  i can’t relate to the experience.)

therefore, when i do appreciate a romantic relationship, it’s pretty much always because canon has shown me something romantic (or clearly pre-romantic) that i find to be well-written and compelling.  (it’s rare - as i outlined before, i would usually rather not deal with romance at all - but it happens.)  

arthur and merlin, then, never had that effect on me, because arthur and merlin, as depicted in the canon, are not in love.

[to anybody reading this who just snatched up their keyboard and started furiously typing, i beg you - please go back and re-read my disclaimer.]

they’re not in love.  the truth about these two is that if i had watched this show without having grown up in fandom as a culture (and without knowing exactly what kind of ships fandom immediately sees EVERYWHERE) the idea of anybody shipping these two together would never have even entered my mind.

(and like.  because i DID grow up in fandom, and i DO know exactly what kind of ships fandom sees everywhere, i knew before i even started this show that arthur/merlin was going to be an inescapable thing.  but that would not have been the case, if i had watched the series in a world where i didn’t know what fandom was.)

arthur and merlin, in canon, are not in love.  the show never does anything to give me an inkling that either of them are harboring romantic feelings for each other.  that is never what is happening onscreen.  literally the last thing on merlin’s agenda is romantic attachment, ever, and arthur is never, ever shown to be in love with anyone who isn’t gwen.  the show, onscreen, never tricks me, teases me, or leads me on.  i was never under the impression that merlin and arthur were in love with each other, because they weren’t.

but that DOES NOT MEAN their relationship matters less.  just because they aren’t IN love with each other doesn’t mean they don’t love each other, and one of those things is not bigger or better or more powerful than the other.

i struggle a lot in fandom (all fandom, not just merlin) with the persistent idea that romantic attachment is the peak, the natural endpoint on a scale of “how deep is your love?”  i am constantly running up against posts where the commonly accepted structure is to cite a moment of devotion or caring or some instance of basic connection between two characters, and then add a caption or tag saying ‘because they are JUST FRIENDS, right?’ or ‘^^totally platonic interaction between characters who are not at all in love, sure jan.’  

and honestly?  i hate that.  that is one of my least favorite things about fandom.  it makes me so tired.  

i am completely disconnected from this idea that there are like...things you can do that are too caring to count as friendship.  like - that there is too much devotion you can show, and if you go over the limit, then it’s laughable that you would do those things for “just” a friend.  that’s so unpleasant to me.

(and i do think [when it comes to non-canon queer ships, anyway - straight ships unfortunately have no excuse, sorry y’all] that part of this probably has its roots in pushback at the tendency of people who try to “gal pal” actual queer ships (or literal real life relationships), so this, at least, is something i can understand.  i’m queer myself; i get that.  and that is why i will never like - attach myself to someone’s post and start complaining.  people can vent however they want.)

it doesn’t change my own feelings, though.  i hate seeing every meaningful friendship i’ve ever been invested in talked about like it’s just a romance in disguise.

other things: i am uninterested in romance as a motivator.  

truly, from the bottom of my heart, i don’t care.

we are, at least in my corner of the world, oversaturated with romance, to the point where any piece of media that doesn’t include it in some fashion is shockingly bizarre.  it is EVERYWHERE.  it is in EVERYTHING.  i cannot pick up a book without running into a romantic plotline.  i cannot watch a movie or a tv show without being forced into multiple romances that i don’t care about.  (rare exceptions apply, as always, but i’m speaking generally.)

this oversaturation, for me, means that romance as a storyline no longer holds any meaning for me.  i see it EVERYWHERE.  it is in literally EVERYTHING.  making merlin into a “love story,” for me, makes the show so much less interesting, because there are billions of love stories out there.  love stories are practically the only kind of story our media remembers how to tell!  why would i take a story that is so unique in its exploration of deep friendship (that isn’t even quite friendship, because it’s not real, but merlin wants it to be real, but making it real would also destroy it) and loyalty (that isn’t necessarily deserved, but is still offered, but is damaging to the person offering it) and love (that exists in spite of arthur’s position as the oppressor, but still cannot erase merlin’s oppression, and is patently not a magical fix for the very real problems merlin is facing), and then want to water it down to “and then they fell in love”???

merlin bbc has so much to say about the transformative, redemptive power of love (not just romance), and the bonds we form with each other despite the fact that we don’t always deserve each other, and what we can do to make ourselves better, and how do we make amends for the ways in which we hurt the people we care about, and it is so complicated and there is so much beauty there and i adore it specifically because it is one of the rare pieces of media out there that doesn’t prop up romantic love as the most important and powerful force in the universe.  romantic love is not what moves the story.  merlin’s love for the people around him is based on compassion.  it’s bigger than the familiar and overused ‘i am desperately in love with this one individual person and that’s what drives my actions,” which is a premise all of us know has been done to death.  merlin’s love is not about romantic attachment.  it’s a deep, abiding love for humanity.  it’s based on hope, and faith, and the inherent belief that everybody matters, even in their worst moments.

condensing that kind of story into “and then they fell in love” erases its meaning for me.  it makes it trite.  uninteresting.  i have seen “and then they fell in love” fully sixty thousand times.  “and then they fell in love” has been done so often that it is utterly devoid of power for me.  boring.   i literally do not care.

other people might feel differently, and find a romantic love story compelling.  i don’t.  

i’m guessing the message that prompted this essay is asking me to evaluate how i feel about the “goodness” of the merlin/arthur ship, aka whether it’s worthwhile to ship it or not based on how healthy/unhealthy it is, which i definitely can’t answer, because i don’t think whether it’s “good” or not really matters.  i am definitely too old to be riding the newer wave of, uh...idk, purity culture type stuff that is so oft-debated on here, lately.

but you’re absolutely right, anon - merlin and arthur’s relationship IS kinda shitty!  it 100% is.  it doesn’t mean you can’t ship them, though, if you want; otherwise i wouldn’t be invested in any aspect of their friendship, either.  

the fact that merlin and arthur’s relationship is kinda shitty is an essential element of the show; it’s the microcosmic representation of the macrocosmic problem merlin is trying to solve, and even with that being the case, we can see clearly that this also doesn’t preclude them from having real moments of connection and care and love.  this is the contradiction i have to keep in mind whenever i engage with them in the friendship sense - merlin has been wronged by arthur in so many ways, and yet he still loves him and believes arthur can do better, and yet his dedication to arthur really does destroy his life piece by piece, and you really have to walk a line between those extremes and be thinking: in what ways was this a noble, honorable path for merlin to take and in what ways was this damaging, and was it all worth it in the end?

we probably wouldn’t still be watching this show if we didn’t ultimately think the answer to that last question was yes.  but there are also equally valid ways in which the answer is, truthfully, no, and i think really the only important thing when dealing with merlin and arthur’s relationship (in whatever capacity you prefer) is to keep that dissonance in mind.

so, to more directly address your question, when it comes to my interaction with the source material, i don’t ship merlin and arthur romantically because i don’t see romance when they interact in canon, and i don’t think their relationship could be improved or made more interesting/more meaningful by adding extra-canonical romance into the mix.  that’s really it.

but the other side of things is this: even if i were granted someone else’s ship-goggles to somehow see romance between these two (eg, once, in the distant past i read a harry potter fic that was so well-constructed it sold me on a relationship i didn’t [and still don’t] actually see in canon), i still wouldn’t choose to ship merlin and arthur, and it’s not because they’re a “bad” ship (no such thing, folks - tag your stuff and let people live their lives, thank you), it’s because this fandom has already been swallowed by them and i cannot bring myself to make that imbalance worse.

trying to be in the merlin fandom without shipping merlin and arthur is just...a little bit difficult sometimes.  i think probably even people who do ship merlin/arthur are aware of that.  sometimes it can feel like merlin/arthur is a given in this fandom, not one of many options - as if you’re not in the merlin fandom, but rather the merthur fandom, and you know you really, really do not belong there.

and it’s not even a canonical ship!  it’s not even real.  and yet if you like this show, and you want to engage in the fandom, your experience is, without exception, going to be chock full of merlin/arthur content by default.

essentially, my struggle with the merlin/arthur dynamic in fandom is two-fold:

1) the strikingly imbalanced content distribution

the merlin fandom, in terms of content distribution, is a pretty accurate mirror of merlin’s own existence, to be honest, in that pretty much every aspect of it is eventually taken over by arthur pendragon, and in that there’s a reasonable debate to be had about whether or not that’s a good thing.

(spoiler alert: it’s not.)

even so, it is what it is, and as i said before, me commenting on fandom trends is not meant as a condemnation of individual preferences.  people like what they like!  that’s just how things are.  shipping arthur and merlin isn’t a Bad thing to do, by any means, and the fact that so many people do is just, you know, bad luck for me, lol.  but at the same time, the wildly unbalanced distribution of content does make it more difficult for folks who don’t ship merlin/arthur to engage in fandom with quite the same level of ease, and even though it’s nobody’s fault, it is still perfectly reasonable for people who don’t ship merlin/arthur to be frustrated about that.

fanfic is a pretty good case study for how this plays out.  i saw a post a while back that was titled something like ‘merlin bbc gothic,’ and the first bullet point was “canon ships are rarepairs,” and HOO BOY, that is true.  stats-wise, merlin/arthur makes up ⅔ of the merlin fic on AO3.  ~25,000 fics.  the next most popular tag after merlin/arthur is arthur/gwen, but arthur/gwen have ~2,900 fics in their tag.  and when you remember to exclude any instance of merlin/arthur from the arthur/gwen tag, that number drops by another thousand, to ~1,940.

that’s buckwild.  come on.  merlin/arthur has twenty-three THOUSAND more fics than the next most popular (and CANONICAL, i might add) ship?  and every other ship’s numbers are even lower than that?*

and if you don’t want to read shippy stuff in the first place, like me - the merlin “gen” tag has less than 8000 fics in it, by comparison, and then you STILL have to filter merlin/arthur out of the gen fics, leaving you with about 6300 - which number has to be filtered down further to remove OTHER ships that still make it past the gen filter.

in comparison to 25,000.

like.  i’ve been in fandom long enough that i’m not surprised - mean, i came into merlin directly off a teen wolf phase, and boy, that’s a whole other bowl of noodles right there, with added squick factors that are irrelevant here - but i’m still just...man. 

it still makes my head spin.  and it is still frustrating, every time.

*(there is a lot more to be said about how gwen fits into all of this, and i know it has been discussed more thoroughly in other places, but yes, another reason i am leery of arthur/merlin as a thing is that i’m just...not super comfortable with what that implies for gwen and her position in the story.  even if i personally am slightly more compelled by gwen/lancelot, technically - i still don’t quite feel comfortable taking gwen out of her canonical place.  she belongs at the top.  she deserves to be the love interest and she deserves to be the queen.  and like - people can say that her relationship with arthur isn’t “developed” or “convincing” enough to warrant retaining in fic, and i get it, the show really did fail gwen in S5 - but i still don’t buy that argument.  people literally INVENTED a romantic relationship for themselves and put 25,000 fics worth of effort into building it up; there is no reason why an “underdeveloped” canon romance couldn’t have gotten the same treatment.  except, of course, for the fact that one [Black, female] character was being shoved aside to make way for yet another two white dudes.)

(and i’m not saying that everyone is doing this deliberately or maliciously.  but we all know this is a cross-fandom trend.  there is literally no reason for the gap in content to be THAT wide.  a canon relationship with twenty-three thousand fewer fics than an invented ship?  just...that is a stat that bears thinking about.  it doesn’t mean that merlin/arthur is a “bad” ship, or that you can’t prefer lancelot/gwen, but it IS still important to recognize these patterns where they occur, across fandoms, and to really think about what they mean.)

2) the arthur-goggles

my second struggle with merlin/arthur in fandom is the ubiquitousness of the arthur-goggles, aka: the tendency in fandom, as in canon, to make everything in merlin’s life about arthur, and everything in the show about merthur.

this one specifically really gets to me.  i am very committed to the idea that merlin is a complete individual, whether arthur is there or not.  i write a LOT of meta about merlin being a whole person, specifically pushing back on the idea that merlin was “born” for arthur’s benefit - my motto is basically that “merlin’s life does not revolve around arthur pendragon,” and the way his life begins to revolve around arthur pendragon in later seasons is not in fact touching or romantic or beautiful; it’s a tragedy.  merlin does not exist only in the context of his relationship with arthur; he possesses worth outside of his mission to save the prince of camelot, and he was already a complete person before he ever met the prince of camelot, and one of the many issues we have to think about when dealing with arthur and merlin in any capacity is how merlin is told from the get-go that he is supposed to devote his whole life to arthur, but arthur is never given any such reciprocal responsibility.  

merlin and arthur’s relationship, just like the distribution of content in this fandom, is wildly imbalanced.  merlin spends all of his spare time thinking about arthur’s life; he ties himself in knots trying to help arthur develop as a person.  he is constantly working to keep arthur safe and happy.  but arthur, at the end of a long day, doesn’t spend his nights agonizing over how he can improve merlin’s life.  he just goes home and goes to bed.  he never once thinks, ‘my purpose on this earth is to serve and support my friend merlin.’  he is never told his life isn’t his own, that he is supposed to be one half of some two-sided coin.  only merlin is told that his entire existence is earmarked for someone else, that his life’s purpose is to be someone else’s better half.  only merlin is expected to devote his entire being to someone else’s betterment.  only merlin is expected to say demeaning, self-abnegating things like “i was born to serve you.”  

arthur, by contrast, is allowed to have a life of his own.  he is allowed to exist on his own terms.  he is never told that his worth is dependent on how well he can prop someone else up.  and while fic might like to imagine merlin being the most important thing in arthur’s life, in canon that is just not the case.  

merlin exists on his own merits, and the idea that he does everything he does just because “he’s in love with arthur” will never sit right with me, because it’s simply not true.  merlin and arthur’s relationship is important to both of them, yes, and of course it is undergirded by deep love and care, but it is also way more complicated than that.  merlin’s investment in arthur’s life - and his grief at arthur’s death - are NOT solely driven by his love for arthur as an individual; they are inextricably bound up with a sense of obligation and duty and self-worth and, eventually, failure, because he’s been told that protecting arthur is a) the only thing that matters about his own life and b) the only way to free his people and save an entire kingdom.  and i think ignoring this very real complexity in favor of “merlin does what he does and feels what he feels because he’s in love with arthur” cheapens the depth of the story and flattens merlin’s character.

arthur-goggles automatically make everything about merlin/arthur, though.  so the difficulty, for me, with merlin/arthur as a ship, is that it can be hard to make/find things about merlin that people don’t instantly, always try to link back to arthur in some way.  merlin is not allowed to have things that are just his, and he can’t exist in a state where arthur doesn’t somehow factor in - no matter how unrelated to arthur something is, or how non-shippy it’s meant to be - there’s someone out there who’s going to loop it back to merthur in some way.

just like - scattered examples of things I’ve encountered:

all of merlin’s non-arthur love interests on AO3 having massive chunks of their ship tags actually being merthur fics, with the non-arthur ship serving solely as a stepping stone on the way to getting merlin and arthur together

readers, on fics that are specifically designated as focusing on merlin+someone else and in which arthur does not appear, leaving comments asking “so how long until arthur shows up,” “can’t wait to see arthur,” etc

meta about how ‘merlin’s time in camelot was actually really bad for him as a person’ being reblogged and modified by someone else with an addition like “but merlin doesn’t regret a second of it because he wouldn’t have known arthur if he were anywhere else,” and the OP having to reblog their own post and explain that this is literally the exact problem they were trying to critique

in fic, merlin’s friends being utilized only as vessels with whom he can have discussions about his developing relationship with arthur

etc etc

it’s not always huge egregious things, but wearing arthur-goggles means EVERYTHING comes back to merthur in some way, which for me is just...really insulting to other characters, and really limiting in terms of story analysis.  

so, for example - this is a VERY specific example that few will relate to, because i am probably the only person on here who has ever tried to search the tag for merlin’s friend will from ealdor (a niche fave of mine) - but with him, especially, it is very hard to avoid bumping into a lot of people wearing arthur-goggles, because everybody seems to imagine him as merlin’s ex, who is only upset about what’s going on in 1.10 because he’s jealous about arthur appearing alongside merlin, never mind that will and merlin have known each other since birth and have a relationship that LITERALLY predates arthur by two decades.

so with him, as an example - the other day, i saw some post in the tag that was like “will gets teary when arthur makes his inspirational speech in ealdor because he finally understands what merlin sees in arthur and he can’t be mad anymore”

and that is just patently untrue.  it is not even remotely close to a legitimate interpretation of what is happening in that scene.  will hasn’t come around to arthur’s way of thinking yet; he literally still packs his things and leaves after this happens, and he is - i mean, first of all, he’s not crying, lol, and he stalks out of that scene weary, angry, and fed up, because he thinks the village is delusional and all of his neighbors are going to get killed in the morning.  his arc - his dissatisfaction with what is going on, his anger at the ignorance arthur wields as a nobleman with all of that wealth and privilege, his resistance to the big “let’s fight kanen’s men with sticks” plan - that is about him and his history and who he is.  it is not about an (imaginary) merlin/arthur love story.  

but when the arthur-goggles are on, all roads lead to merthur.  even when the other characters in question (*coughWILLIAMcough*) would be beyond mortified to have merthur, of all things, assigned as their motivation.

SO.  now that i’ve gone over both the canon and fandom aspects of my reasoning, the succinct summary in response to your question is just that no, i don’t personally ship merlin/arthur.  because:

a) i don’t see it b) the fandom is already trying to drown me with it and i choose to center other characters out of spite c) i just think merlin deserves better lol

however, as i said in my disclaimer - that doesn’t mean other people shouldn’t ship and enjoy it!   merlin/arthur is very much not my cup of tea, but that’s no reason why other folks can’t have fun with it.  i think the best portrayals of it, probably, will be those that keep in mind exactly what you said - that merlin and arthur’s relationship is “kinda shitty” - but this is fandom, so if what folks really want to write is just lots of happy AU’s with no issues, then they should go for it!  the point of fandom is to have fun connecting with people over a shared love of something, so i am happy to let others have fun doing their thing, and i will just be over here doing mine. 🙂

#thanks for the question! #hope this is helpful #fyi to everyone else; this is the most space i will EVER devote to this subject so #wave goodbye as it flies past! #XD #the once and future slowburn #meta #(sort of? fandom analysis? idk)