#he deserved to have resolved his issues before losing his memory

[gale-gentlepenguin]

Fu was not a good mentor, but he was a good character.

#fu #wang fu #ML hot take #Fu didn't finish his training #he messed up and had to live with it for 150 years! #Like dude #he was the only guardian #he had to figure out so much stuff ALONE #so I see all these salt posts on him #(I use to be one of his biggest salters BELIEVE me) #but he doesn't deserve it #he deserved more screen time #he deserved to have resolved his issues before losing his memory #ml critical

[dutchdread]

Bruh, we don't want to hear about your negative views about cleriths. Cloud loves Aerith and he always has. He lives in her church because he loves her. He thought of Aerith a lot in OG , On the Way to A Smile, and AC. He went to live in her church. Why tf would he go live in her church if it wasn't for Aerith? There are millions of places he could've gone but he chose the church. You don't have to believe our way of thinking if you don't want to, but don't tag clerith in your posts.

Thanks for your question. I think it's important to have these conversations so we can clear up these misunderstandings. Clouds motivations have been well documented so it's unfortunate that large swaths of the fandom seemingly are still in the dark about something that has been known for quite a long time, and I blame lack of communication. Before I answer your question though I'd like to address the style of it, since I find it amusing that in response to my article concerning productive conversation styles you not only used one of the styles I described, but even the same exact argument. This is a nice confirmation for me that I am right on the money. In my article, I said that the "dishonest inquiry" is the Clerith conversation style of choice. The example I gave was as follows:

The dishonest inquiry: “Why don’t you admit that Clouds actions in AC show that he doesn’t love Tifa?”

You mirrored this approach by saying "Why tf would he go live in her church if it wasn't for Aerith?". The defining characteristic of the dishonest inquiry is that the question isn't asked with the goal of seeking clarification, but as an offensive tactic meant to attack the others position, you're not trying to evaluate your position, you're trying to get others to re-evaluate their position under the guise of a question. If we look at the rest of your post we can see the indicators I described for someone who has reached the last stage of the debate style. "Cloud loves Aerith and he always has. He lives in her church because he loves her". As I noted in my article:

If assertions are backed up, they are backed up with other assertions designed to dissuade rebuttals, rather than investigating veracity.

This "argument" had no actual arguments, it was a meaningless assertion. Stating that you are correct in an attempt to avoid having to actual show that you're correct. "Cloud loves Aerith and he always has. He lives in her church because he loves her": This is what you're trying to prove, you can't state what you're trying to prove as your starting premise.

If you're honestly interested in learning more about FFVII then leave out the baseless assertions, they literally just waste peoples time and makes them less willing to engage with you.

If I had to rephrase your question in a way that's more inviting for a productive discussion it would be something like this:

"Why do you believe Cloud chose Aeriths Church as his hiding place in AC? He thinks about Aerith a lot, what do you think the reason is for that if it's not love?".

The answer to this is pretty simple of course, it's been restated several times, this is not something that is some grand mystery, it's not even an aspect of FFVII that's particularly ambiguous. The reason he stays in Aeriths church is the same reason he's seen lingering at Zacks "grave", it's guilt. As stated in the 10th anniversary ultimania, and several other times:

when Cloud contracts Geostigma he disappears. Behind these actions lies feelings of guilt towards his past failure to protect people who were important to him

While this is an element of the story that has been explicitly confirmed through ultimanias and quotes, this is not an element of the story that was ever in any way unclear, its a direct continuation of Clouds character arc in FFVII. Infact, Clouds mental health issues are the central part of the fake persona storyarc, and is arguably the core of the story. The rough order of events shown in FFVII, on the way to a smile, and Advent children (and also CC) concerning Clouds mental health is as follows. 1: Cloud as a boy want to protect Tifa. 2: Cloud fails to protect Tifa. 3: Cloud and townspeople blame Cloud for Tifas injuries. 4: Cloud internalizes this and beats himself up over his failure to protect Tifa. He develops a fear of failure. 5: Cloud starts acting up, starts wanting to prove himself, and decides to join Soldier to impress Tifa. 6: Cloud fails to get into Soldier, develops an inferiority complex. 7: Cloud is too ashamed of his failure to face Tifa. 8: Cloud fails to save his mother. 9: Cloud fails to save Nibleheim. 10: Cloud fails to save Tifa, again. 11: Cloud fails to save Zack. 12: Cloud develops a soldier alter ego that is everything that he isn't, as a defense mechanism. He hides from his own weakness. 13: Even as a soldier, Cloud fails to save Aerith. 14: Cloud regains his memories in the lifestream, and discovers he did fulfill his promise to come save Tifa. Here we basically end FFVII, and go into on the way to a smile. At this point Cloud has overcome the alien parasite messing with his mind by establishing a stronger sense of who he is. However, now that he's lost his fake soldier defense mechanism he's forced to deal with the past. His past failures haven't been fixed, he doesn't suddenly think he's a great person now, he simply can no longer use his fake persona to hide from his own weakness, and is forced to confront it. 15: Cloud still blames his own weakness for the deaths of Aerith and Zack, he thinks that he needs to atone for his sins, and thinks that the only way to do this is through living* 16: Cloud starts living with Tifa and experiences happiness and peace for the first time in his adult life.** 17: Cloud develops cherophobia and survivors guilt. He feels ashamed for being alive and happy while Aerith and Zack are dead because of him.*** 18: Clouds mental health deteriorates because of these feelings.**** 19: Cloud finds Denzel and sees him as a way to atone, having found a pathway to redemption, Clouds situation improves.***** 20: Cloud is unable to save Denzel from geostigma, and contracts it himself. 21: Clouds mental health worsens again, he failed again, he is unable to save Denzel, he is even unable to save himself, he won't be able to atone for his sins through living. He potentially brought an infectious disease into the house and as a result of his actions Tifa and Marlene will now lose him. 22: Depressed and ashamed, Cloud runs away. He thinks Tifa and Marlene are better off without him, he doesn't want them to see him waste away and die, he feels like he doesn't deserve to be happy and should instead die alone, Etc. Classic depression. (Some quotes concerning the *** are at the bottom of the article)

As for why he thinks about Aerith and Zack a lot, and hangs around the places that are connected with them, what else do you expect? Of course he's thinking about them, they're the people he failed, they're DEAD because of him. Cloud is a caring man, he beats himself up over it, of course he'd be thinking about them. And where else would a man wallowing in guilt and self-pity go than to those places? But the important thing to remember is that none of this is supposed to be seen as romantic. It's supposed to be viewed as sad and negative. Every internal character arc has something to overcome and this is what Cloud has to overcome in Advent children.****** Tifa to Cloud: "have we lost to our memories?" Cloud to Sephiroth: "Stay where you belong, in my memories" A well written story has internal and external obstacles to overcome, and ties the two together. In the case of advent children, the return of Sephiroth is the physical representation of Clouds internal character arc, which is that he should stop living in the past, and should move on. The past here isn't a positive thing he wants to get back to, Clouds past has always been a thing he's ran away from, but then is forced to accept. The past in Clouds case is a bad thing, his failures, and is something he should stop dwelling on. If you've ever seen the lion king, this resembles the scene where Rafiki hits Simba with a stick. "What does it matter, it's in the past", "yeah but it still hurts", "Oh Yes, the past can hurt, but the way I see it you can either run from it, or learn from it".

When Cloud returned to his normal self, he stopped running from the past, but as a result, he started dwelling in it. That's what he's doing in Aeriths church; dwelling in misery.

If we juxtapose Aeriths church with the 7th heaven, we can start to see where peoples misunderstandings are taking place. When some people look at the events of ACC they think that 7th heaven is a place of sadness, which Cloud leaves to be happy at Aeriths church, the place of happiness. The "have we lost to our memories" is then seen as a confirmation of this and that the memory, which they think corresponds to Aerith, is better than life with Tifa. This character arc then concludes with Cloud being happy by finally leaving Tifa behind, and riding off in the sun-set in search of Aerith at the end of the movie. But this interpretation falls apart as soon as you apply context to it, both narratively, and factually, it doesn't fit with with developer quotes, as well as the fundamental story themes of FFVII. 1: If 7th Heaven/Tifa is a place of sadness, then why has Cloud been consistently quoted to experience happiness there? 2: If 7th Heaven/Tifa is a place of sadness, and Cloud leaves at the end of the movie, then why has it been stated to be his promised land, aka, his land of supreme happiness (the reason it's literally called 7th heaven), and why is he stated to return there? ******* 3: If Clouds "memories" are positive, why is the plotarc resolved by Cloud telling the villain to "stay there"? 4: If Cloud is happy at the church, why is he living in self-deprecating squalor? 5: If Cloud loved Aerith and thought Denzel was sent to him by her, why did he abandon him? 6: Do you really think SE would write a story about a "hero" whose main emotional hurdle concerning the past comes down to. "I am sick of the girl I am with, I prefer the one that is dead, so I will get over the past by letting go of the girl I am with, as well as my adoptive children, to go chase the dead girl"? 7: Don't you think this would do Tifas character a tremendous disservice and do you think SE would be that preferential in their treatment? I could go on, but I think the point is clear. While the "Aeriths church is a happy place" interpretation is semi-coherent when looked at in isolation, it becomes exceedingly bizarre as soon as you place it in context. As I am fond of saying, this is not a matter of personal interpretation, it's a matter of lying to yourself vs not lying to yourself. I also suspect that this is the reason why SE changed the ending to advent Children, because people were misinterpreting it in this bizarre way, so they made it more in your face. In context, the following interpretation is much more fitting. Aeriths church is a place of sadness that Cloud runs to because of his guilt and depression. The "memories" line refers to Cloud dwelling on his past mistakes, as evidenced by his constant quotes about needing forgiveness. The character arc of moving on from the past is then resolved when he forgives himself, and as a result, defeats sephiroth, the metaphorical demon of his past. This allows him to return to his place of joy, his promised land, the 7th heaven, with a more positive outlook on the past. Instead of tarnishing Aerith and Zacks memories by wallowing in the past he instead moves on from it, thereby allowing it to become beautiful, which is represented by him planting Aeriths flowers on Zacks grave, and placing Zacks sword in the church. Instead of Zacks grave being the place where Zack died, it is now the place where a hero was born. Cloud has moved on, he has let his mistakes go, and has learned to come to terms with himself. I think it's hard to argue that this version of events is much less shallow, and much more meaningful than the story of a lovesick guy who abandons his partner and adoptive kids to go chase after a dead girl, but that's just me, what's more important is that it's the only version of events that's corroborated by the evidence. Thanks for the question. __________________________________________________

Corroborating quotes (not comprehensive)

* from case of Tifa: "“I’m going to live. I think that’s the only way I can be forgiven. All sorts of things…"

** Nojima in AC prologue: "“Cloud never had a candid personality to begin with, and although he started living with Tifa and even started working, he obtained a peaceful livinghe’s never experienced before, and this conversely made him anxious. And in the midst of this he contracts Geostigma himself, and rather than being able to protect the people dear to him, he instead was forced to face his own death, and so ran away.” (among other quotes)

*** 10th anniversary ultimania: "when Cloud contracts Geostigma he disappears. Behind these actions lies feelings of guilt towards his past failure to protect people who were important to him"

Aeriths 10th anniversary profile : Aerith still lives on in the hearts of her friends who saved the planet. And in particular to Cloud, as a symbol of his failure to having being unable protect those dear to him, she was a major factor in causing him to close himself off. -Aerith’s 10th anniversay profile.

And more, really this is reiterated constantly.

**** From case of Tifa: "During that time, it was Marlene who noticed a change in Cloud. She told Tifa how Cloud would sometimes space out and not listen to her.

Transporting mail around the world meant he was traveling around his past too. She knew that Cloud was in great pain because he couldn’t protect Aerith. Cloud was trying to overcome that and live on. But, going back to the place where he parted from Aerith might mean that his sorrow and regret was going to tear his heart again.

It was night, and they had closed the bar. Cloud was drinking alcohol even though he rarely did. He drained his glass. Tifa thought about it before going over and filling his glass.

***** From case of Tifa: "Tifa wondered if they became a real family after Denzel appeared. Cloud was clearly taking less jobs. At night, he would always make sure he had time to spend with the children. The silly little conversations he had with Tifa were also back."

****** Reunion files, page 58: "As long as Cloud blames himself for Aerith’s death, he won’t be able to move on with his life. One of the first ideas we had for Advent Children was to have Cloud overcome and resolve that immense feeling of guilt. For Cloud, no one other than Aerith can solve that problem for him."

- Takahiro Sakurai pg. 15 reunion files: After Cloud was told, “Which is it? A memory or us?: by Tifa, he tells Sephiroth, “Stay where you belong. In my memories,” just before he defeats him. I think Cloud finally becomes free at this moment. Deep down, Cloud knew that he shouldn’t be so hard on himself, but at the same time he couldn’t let go of those feelings of guilt for what happened to Aerith and Zack, or the thought that he could never forgive himself for it. But then his companions made him feel better by telling him to let go. ******* "The place where he awakens—- That is Cloud’s Promised Land As he sleeps, Cloud hears two voices. The voices of two people very dear to him, who are no longer with him. Playfully and kindly, they give him a message: he doesn’t belong here yet. When he awakes, there was his friends. There were the children, freed from their fatal illness. Tifa and Marlene, and Denzel asking for Cloud to heal his Geostigma— his family were waiting. Engulfed in celebration, he realizes where he is meant to live."

"Aerith lends her power to the people suffering from Geostigma in Edge, and personally provides for Cloud’s recovery. Geostigma is cured. Cloud returns to Tifa and the children."

-  FFVII 10th Anniversary Ultimania Complete Timeline

#Cloti #FFVII #ffvii remake #cloud strife #advent children

[giggles-and-freckles]

bed bargain for satine and obi-wan maybe?? 😍

bed bargain: [Obi-Wan] won’t stay in bed. [Satine] convinces them. (from these prompts)

Obi-Wan groans from his desk as knuckles rap against the other side of the door. It’s Anakin, no doubt, come to question him on the events of the day. There’s no confusion on exactly what Anakin will be wanting to know.

Girlfriend. A ridiculous accusation and just something to get under Obi-Wan’s skin. The trouble is Anakin’s always been far too good at that and Obi-Wan let it get to him today. 

He’s in severe need of a break. But Death Watch seems to be a larger issue than the Council had thought and he’s determined to get to the bottom of it.

The knocking continues.

He sighs deeply and pushes away from the desk. As he stands, there’s a rush of hot fuzziness that fills the space behind his eyes. But he blinks and it’s gone. Yet another side effect of the long day, apparently. To accompany the dizziness that has developed in the past hour.

The knocking is louder. More hurried.

Definitely Anakin.

“I’m coming!” he yells, making his way to the door. “Honestly, all these years and you have learned nothing of patience—“

He stops as the door slides open. 

“You would be amazed at the patience I have developed, actually.”

“Duchess,” he says stiffly.

Her lips twitch into a frown, but flatten back out into a thin line. “Hello.”

“It’s late.”

“Yet you are still awake.”

He casts a quick glance behind him, but the movement is too quick. The room spins and his hand reaches out, blindly. He finds the edge of the door and grips it.

“I’ve been busy,” he says, turning back around to find that her eyes are fixed on his hand, clinging to the door.

She looks back up. “I assumed as much. Before tomorrow, when the Republic will undoubtedly take your words and twist them until I am the villain they are apparently so desperate for,” – she ignores his scoff – “I wanted us to try and get on the same page.”

“We have never quite managed to achieve that, my dear,” he says.

Her frown deepens as she studies him. “Not for lack of trying.”

He clears his throat. “Is this something we could discuss in the morning? I still have–”

“No,” she says, and pushes past him into the room. “Now is good.”

“For you,” he grumbles, but allows the door to slide closed. He turns and follows her in the room. She sits on the sofa easily, as if this is the most normal thing. “I didn’t have the opportunity to thank you for the luxurious accommodations. Anakin hasn’t stopped talking about–”

“He’s not what I expected.”

Obi-Wan blinks. He wants to sit, but can’t bring himself to join her on the couch. So he hovers. “Pardon?”

“Your student. He idolises you, clearly. When you used to call and tell me of him–”

“That was a very long time ago,” he says quickly. 

“Yes,” she agrees quietly. Her eyes move to the floor between them. “It was.”

His visions swims and he can’t determine whether it’s exhaustion or a response to the lowness of her tone. The unopened nook of hurt and betrayal that she clearly feels, though he can’t understand why.

But then–that’s not true either. It’s just what he’s told himself for the past ten years, to avoid the habitual pain he was putting himself through for so long. Constantly comming her–and thinking about her in the meantime. Something had to give if he was to honour his commitment to the Jedi and his commitment to Anakin.

He drops to the couch next to her. “I was lost.”

“I know,” she says softly. “But you also didn’t want to be found.”

“I needed to…” he frowns, looking for the words. It’s painful revisiting this part of his life, immediately after Qui-Gon’s death, when everything was overwhelming and nothing felt right. “Needed to figure it out.”

“No,” she says, but there’s no chastisement in her voice. “Not by yourself.”

“Yes,” he insists. “I–”

“My dear Obi-Wan,” she says. Fixes him with those eyes that have seen too much of the galaxy and too much of him. There’s too much compassion that he doesn’t feel particularly deserving of. “Accepting help is not a crime.”

He shuts his eyes, but it does nothing to stop the pounding in his head or the pain in his chest. 

“Obi-Wan?” she says, her tone sharper than it was before. Then– “Obi-Wan!”

“I’m all right,” he manages, opening his eyes as the wave of nausea passes. He pulls a weak smile. “Sorry. I just–”

She fixes him with a hard stare. “You’re ill.”

“I’m not ill,” he scoffs.

She lifts her hand and rests it on his forehead. Doesn’t let him pull away. “Stubborn as always.”

Since she’s not letting him move away, he figures there’s no real harm in leaning into her a bit. “You have no experience with that.”

Satine laughs loudly and lets her hand fall to his cheek. They watch each other for a moment and Obi-Wan wonders if she sees the wayward young padawan the way he sees the headstrong young duchess. So much has changed, in the galaxy and between them, but beyond the light wrinkles (which he’d never point out, obviously) and thinner face, it’s the same eyes blinking back at him. He’s thankful for something consistent.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, “for not holding it against me.”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” she hums. Her hand falls to the place on the couch between them. She moves it so that it rests over his.

He rolls his eyes at her snark, but turns his hand over under hers. Links their fingers together. “When Qui-Gon died. You were so…” A deep sigh. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“I didn’t do anything, my dear. You–”

“Exactly. You just listened. Let me talk, grieve, process,” he says. “I needed that. Even though I left...you never…”

She squeezes his hand. “There was never a question of you leaving. I knew it was coming–and I wasn’t angry. You had to return to the Jedi. I...I had a system to lead.”

“But even so. When I sought your help–”

“I’ll always be there for you, my dear.”

His gut twists over. “I don’t deserve that.”

“You’re right,” she says, nodding. Then, lifts their interlinked hands up and drops the lightest of kisses on the back of his palm. “You deserve so much more. More than this harsh galaxy will ever be able to repay you, I fear.”

“With Anakin. And...everything. I was overwhelmed. I was...I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m sorry. I...I didn’t mean to lose you, too.”

She smiles at him. “You didn’t.” Kisses his hand again. “And you never will.” She stands from the couch, then, pulling him up along with her. The motion jars him, and he has to grip her shoulder to stay upright. She looks him up and down with a frown. “I believe it’s time for bed for you, darling.”

He pulls away as well as he can. Grounds his feet and takes a breath. “No. I have to finish–”

“Obi-Wan,” she says firmly. “Bed.”

“I have work to do. Death Watch. They...I need to keep you safe. Need to–”

“As the ruler of this world, I order you to go to bed.”

Obi-Wan’s mouth opens, then closes. “You can’t,” – he frowns at the floor for a moment, then smiles victoriously – “I have diplomatic immunity!”

“This isn’t the Republic,” she reminds him. “And if you remember–I’m particularly stubborn.” She begins to guide him toward the bed, even as he struggles against her. “Oh, honestly, Obi-Wan. Stop being such a child.”

“Stop treating me like one!” he cries, then stops walking abruptly as the room begins to spin again. He presses the palms of his hands into his eyes and takes a shuddery breath. This bout of dizziness lasts longer than the ones before and it takes him an extra moment to gather himself.

A light hand is at his back immediately, rubbing small circles. For some reason, the motion cracks his resolve.

“I can’t sleep,” he says, scared of how broken he sounds. “When I do...it’s just nightmares. Images, memories–”

“I’ll stay,” she says, and wraps an arm around his waist.

“That’s highly inappropriate,” he says immediately in response because it’s what he’s supposed to say. And Obi-Wan Kenobi has grown very good at saying what he’s supposed to say. If the Council were to catch wind of this. A Jedi Master sharing a bed with a Duchess–

She lifts an eyebrow and his face reddens. Because he knows she’s remembering what he’s remembering. How unconcerned he was with what was appropriate once upon a time. He’s lost the padawan braid since then, though, and she’s gained a system of planets. It’s not the same.

“I’ll only stay until you fall asleep,” she says, saving him from further embarrassment. 

Obi-Wan can’t bring himself to admit his disappointment, so he just nods, and sheds his outer robe. She watches as he kicks off his boots and sets them in the corner of the room. Watches as he unties his belt and drapes it over a chair. When he finally makes his way toward the bed, she is waiting for him, standing with her arms crossed and a patient expression.

“Are you quite done?” she says, and her lips quirk up at the corners.

He doesn’t respond. Only rolls his eyes and slides beneath the sheets. She pulls back the other side in a much more graceful manner, making sure her long dress doesn’t get wrapped around her. She’s always had such a talent for making the mundane look like a dance. He tries not to stare; it’s hard.

There is at least a foot of space between them in the bed and neither makes a move to close it. 

“You didn’t use to sleep with so many clothes on,” she says after a moment of silence.

“Neither did you.”

She makes a sound of indignation, then sighs. “Touché.”

He chuckles and reaches for her hand, under the sheets. She flinches when he first grabs it and he wonders if this is too much. Physical contact within the confines of a bed. He moves to pull back, but her grip is vice-like. She doesn’t turn her head to look at him, but he’s glad. He’s still having a hard time not staring.

“Thank you,” he says finally. 

…

When the sunlight filters through the curtains he never drew closed and wakes him up the next morning, she’s still there.

#my fic #obitine #and just like that...it becomes 2k words HAHA OOPS #throwing this in the q because i'm gonna be out of commission for a few days so who knows when this will pop up on my feed #writing prompts #prompts now closed btw! #q

[graaythekwami]

There are two types of episodes I die for: 1) Adrien seeing the absolutely awesome LADYBUG side of Marinette- her passion, creativity, pure heart, and quick thinking- that is never showed to him because of how awkward and stuttery Mari is around him. 2) LB actually being able to confide in CN. It’s said that they’re a team, they balance each other out, but I kinda feel CN is underrepresented. In Sentibbuboer, it seen that Mari doesn’t even want CN to know about Alya. Your thoughts on this?

I love those kind of episodes too. :)

Usually Chat Noir being left in the dark frustrates me, with both Marinette and Adrien being main characters it is annoying to constantly see Adrien’s character being pushed to the side. However, unlike is some previous episodes/seasons, I think Chat Noir being left in the dark in season 4 is actually well written and important story-wise.

It’s a theme we’ve been seeing across the episodes this season, with Chat being less and less involved in fights, and we’ve been seeing Chat Noir’s growing frustration towards it. This doesn’t feel like an instance of writers favoring a character, but rather part of their character arcs-- and as such I am completely here for it. Though I know the eventual LadyNoir fight will probably be painful, I hope their partnership becomes stronger from it in the end.

Marinette’s definitely making a mistake with keeping Chat Noir out of the loop, but she’s not doing it maliciously. In fact, she doesn’t seem to realize the tension is building at all. Adrien is a master of hiding his emotions, and we see him doing this as Chat in front of Ladybug. He’s keeping things bottled up, and she doesn’t realize just how much she’s isolating him or how that’s hurting him. It’s going to eventually come to a head, and it probably won’t be too pretty. 

I think Marinette not wanting Chat Noir to know about Alya is the result of how things were when Master Fu was in charge, and what happened with Chat Blanc. From the nightmare in Sentibubbler with Chat Blanc (and the fact that as soon as Marinette saw Chat Blanc she knew it was a nightmare, suggesting that this isn’t the first time she had nightmares about him) we can tell this definitely had a deep impact on her.

Marinette doesn’t know the full story of what lead to Chat being akumatized, all she knows is that him knowing her identity equals Chat Blanc. In her mind, Chat Noir not knowing things like her identity is keeping him safe from Hawk Moth. Combine that with how Master Fu continuously kept her in the know but not Chat, it’s not surprising that it might have become habit by now. As much as I love Master Fu, I do think he could have handled many things better.

With Fu now gone Marinette now lost her support that knows about both sides of the mask-- and she has it ingrained in her not to tell Chat in order to protect him. So she instead turned to Alya-- Alya is the new Master Fu for Marinette. The new person to know both sides of her life, that she can talk to about anything, and that can support her. But even then Marinette is hesitant to trust Alya fully in this role, as we see from the fears in her dreams: Marinette is in the mindset that she has to carry this burden on her own, and that is affecting her ability to fully trust. Sentibubbler was an important episode because it allowed Marinette to see how much she can trust Alya, and allows her to have that support she needs.

However, while she has that support, Chat Noir does not, and he needs it as much as she does. Ladybug was his support in the mask, not Master Fu, but with Ladybug not there like she used to be it is impacting him. Chat Noir does not care about Ladybug being the Guardian and him not-- in Truth he said as long as it doesn’t change things between them he’s fine-- but now things are changing. In Furious Fu he told Ladybug that he’d give up his ring if she asked him too (aka give up Plagg, aka his only support at home), because he trusts her and respects her role as Guardian. It was when he found out that her memories of him could be erased that he fought Su-Han, because their bond and partnership was at stake. To him it isn’t the Miraculouses that makes them partners, it’s everything they’ve been through together. And now he feels like he’s losing that bond.

Marinette was not wrong to confide or trust in Alya. Marinette was under so much pressure, and she needed that support, it was a good thing for her to do. The issue is that she hasn’t told Chat Noir everything that has happened and it’s affecting their partnership, and in turn Chat Noir hasn’t told Ladybug how this is impacting him, something I know she would try to resolve if she realized what was happening.

Adrien doesn’t deserve to be left in the dark, and Marinette doesn’t deserve the burden placed on her. The answer is simple-- bring Chat Noir into the know, allowing Chat to both support Ladybug and have a full knowledge of what’s going on. Unfortunately with the tension that’s building up, we’re probably going to have a clash before a resolve.

The problem here is the lack of communication, and I hope this all leads up to them learning to better communication as partners, and to be a stronger duo than before. :)

#ml analysis #sentibubbler analysis #sentibubbler spoilers #ml spoilers #ml spoiler #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #LadyNoir #alya cesaire #minor master fu salt #love square #sentibubbler #my thoughts #ml character analysis

[bigskydreaming]

I agree with everything you said in the last post but especially the Damian part.

Like I don’t know why people treat it like Dick had to choose between two toys and he chose the shinier model. He was in a situation where a 9/10 year old child was going to go back to a murder cult if he didn’t find a quick way to sure he stayed. And no option was good if Damian left. It was either Ra is going to steal his body or would become a powerful supervillain who would resent the whole family and between that is a whole lot of child abuse. It not like Dick had all the time in the world to figure out a different way for Damian to stay he had maybe like a day. 

Also we never actually got to see Dick’s view on the situation only Tim’s because the only time we got to see that conversation was in Red Robin ( which might be wrong but I’m pretty sure I’m right). Tim was having a slight mental breakdown so maybe not the best narrator. 

Like, the ONE thing I'd love for people to keep more centered in the varying discourses about Dick, Tim, Robin and Red Robin, is that like.....

The writer himself had Tim and Dick reconcile and work together in the aftermath of Tim leaving because he was upset.

It really doesn't get mentioned enough IMO that at no point in the actual canon stories was Dick ever oblivious to Tim being hurt, uncaring of this, nor did the canon ever try to claim on Dick's behalf that he DIDN'T hurt Tim, y'know?

I talked earlier tonight about the importance of remembering that these are fictional characters who can not CHOOSE any actions for themselves, but rather are ruled entirely by what the writers choose FOR them.

And the thing is.....for all that Dick is often characterized in fanfics as being oblivious or uncaring to having hurt Tim, or say that he kicked Tim out of the house and the city, or that he called Tim crazy or that he chose Damian OVER Tim or all these other things.....

None of those things say anything about Dick or what kind of character he is, despite the fact that fanon and fics have made a huge deal OUT of running with the idea that THOSE acts in fact say a LOT about Dick's actual character or whatever.....

But like, the point is not just that none of those things say anything about Dick simply because they're not how the canon went....

JUST as important, IMO, is the fact that none of those things are even in the BALLPARK of saying anything about Dick's actual character.....

Because the actual canon was written the way it was for the sake of TIM'S story. It was never about trying to make Dick look good, the events played out the way they did because the writer INTENDED there to be conflict between the brothers about it! Dick didn't find some magical way of ensuring that he delivered the news to Tim in the absolute right way possible because he just didn't care enough about Tim's feelings to do so....Damian delivered the news to Tim in the absolute worst way possible BECAUSE the writer WANTED the chasm between Dick and Tim.

THE CONFLICT WAS THE STORY!

And just as importantly.....the same writer who caused the conflict also RESOLVED the conflict. In his own same stories. Tim and Dick may have never hashed over every single detail of Tim's issues with Dick, but there was CLEARLY a reconciliation. Tim showed his forgiveness, his understanding of why Dick had done what he'd done and the fact that he'd made his peace with it, in a variety of ways from telling Dick he still had his trust, joking with Dick in SPECIFIC ways that called back to personal in-jokes that they'd had since the 90s -

(and that in fact were originally written by the same writer....like, the Brady Bunch jokes are a SPECIFICALLY Fabian Nicieza thing, as in he's the only writer who has EVER had Dick and Tim having that particular in joke between them, and he established it when he first wrote Tim, when he and Dick were great during Tim's time as Robin in the 90s. Tim calling back to those jokes during Red Robin and specifically reinviting memories of some of his favorite moments with his brother HIMSELF, like was as clear a peace gesture as you can get, IMO.)

But point is....the conflict happened the way it did, because it was MEANT to happen. There was supposed to be conflict, so by that very token, Dick wasn't MEANT to find the perfect way to handle the Robin situation that made sure Tim didn't suffer any negative feelings about it.

The reason its lasted so long as discourse in fandom was that regardless of the fact that the writers and characters both showed a resolution to the conflict that was deliberately sown to BE a conflict in the first place....

Fans of Tim decided this resolution wasn't adequate enough.

And so the events of it have been tweaked endlessly, as has the fact that the brothers reconciled itself, in order to keep this conflict extended far beyond the parameters or duration of the ACTUAL canon conflict its based on....with Dick further exaggerated into this uncaring instigator because the conflict FANS wanted was one in which Tim was Dick's victim in a way that he was never intended to be by the initial source conflict, which wanted BOTH characters to be somewhat sympathetic but now turned into a one-sided thing where only ONE character is 'deserving' of sympathy.....

But the problem is....that wasn't the story. And this wouldn't BE a problem, due to it being fanfic and fanfic being innately transformative, if not for the fact that people keep trying to point to canon actions as the proof of conclusions they're drawing about Dick's actions in the FANON conflict.....when the only thing the canon actions are meant to serve as the foundation for, is the conflict which ACTUALLY happened AND was resolved in canon!

And the thing is, a lot of fandom have done a lot to compare this situation to Dick losing Robin in the first place, but without actually leaning into that comparison in order to examine how Dick truly felt about that then, and ACTUALLY make it the comparison they're raising it as.....

(people can't claim that they've done this if they themselves are calling the situations parallel and yet clearly holding Tim and his feelings as innately more sympathetic and deserving of understanding than they're willing to even retroactively apply to Dick in the very situation they themselves have invited comparisons to....like if you're STILL calling for Dick's head for what he did with Robin here in a way that you're not having any characters anywhere, even just in reference or passing say that Bruce deserves being chewed out for to similar degrees.....your comparison is rigged from the start, it just is)....

But ultimately at the end of the day, there IS an answer for why Dick wasn't more careful and studious in his handling of the Robin situation....and that answer, for better or worse, is that he wasn't MEANT to be. The handling exists the way it played out, because it was meant to engender a specific conflict, one that was then resolved to the satisfaction of the story's writer.

If that wasn't to the satisfaction of fans, that's understandable! No story ever satisfies all fans!

But the problem is, the transformative nature of fanfic cuts two ways. And this is what people so often conveniently overlook when they cite that you can do anything with fanfic and that its subject to everyone's personal wants and agenda.

Like this is all perfectly true. But what people CAN'T do, is forbid others from drawing conclusions based on what decisions you do and don't make with fanfic.

And the problem with the Red Robin discourse, is we have a conflict that was engineered from the start, and negatively impacted a particular character aka Tim.

And the resolution the canon offered didn't satisfy the itch a lot of Tim's fans had for that particular conflict.

But the thing is.....there's two entirely different ways to tweak a conflict with fanfic.

You can make it BETTER.

Or you can make it WORSE.

And nine out of ten times - with this being especially obvious when you keep in mind that the canon itself DID CREATE RESOLUTION TO ITS OWN CONFLICT - its very apparent that a lot of fans just were not interested in making the resolution of this conflict even BETTER than what we got in the canon.

See, because the reason it happened in canon at all was NOT in fact because Dick was just as uncaring and neglectful as FANON of this conflict makes him out to be....since the reason it happened that way at all was ONLY because the writer needed it to happen in SOME way that sowed conflict between Tim and Dick and sparked Tim's solo journey of self-discovery.....

The only real way to BETTER resolve the conflict of the Robin mantle transition...

Would be for Dick to specifically approach Tim in such a way as to take his feelings about the matter into account and make his argument for why he felt Damian needed this now.

And that's something that's ABSOLUTELY easy to do, because the only reasons things DIDN'T happen that way in the first place, was circumstantial! Because the story was PLOTTED to have Damian spill the beans before Dick even had an opportunity to talk to Tim one on one. Changing a story's direction born of circumstance is one of the easiest things to do with fanfic since all you have to do is write different circumstances! Nobody's character even needs addressing there, because no character is inherently flawed for that story happening the way it did....that's why the story WORKED, in canon! Dick just circumstantially wasn't given even an OPPORTUNITY to be as conscientious about the matter as we would have liked him to be.

Easy, EASY fix with fanfic.

But that's not what fanfic tends to do with this particular story point, is it?

Instead, we get constant worsenings of Dick's motivations, Dick's choices, Dick's reaction to Tim's response, etc, etc.

The slant is entirely one-sided, aimed at making Tim not just more sympathetic, but Dick LESS sympathetic. Making it a nuance-free example of not even two brothers fighting in the face of their mutual grief, but one being VICTIMIZED by the other's willful ignorance of their feelings and loss, while simultaneously demonstrating none of the same himself.

And that's a choice that tons of fanfic writers have made, and they GET to make that choice, but what doesn't get to happen is making everyone else pretend that this was the only way the story COULD have gone, the TRUE resolution it deserved and the thing that ACTUALLY said something indicative of Dick's character.....

When not only were there these other opportunities to resolve the conflict in ways better for BOTH characters....the resolution of the actual conflict is considered irrelevant even though creating a conflict that could be resolved in story was the ONLY reason for the characters making the specific choices they made in the first place!

The discourse is literally all just born of people using the slight against Tim's character as an excuse to make Dick's character look worse. IMO to distract from the fact that this happened at all, because the real gripe was with Tim not being Robin anymore but there was no way to unilaterally decry that WITHOUT making the case that Damian should never have been Robin, and most fans I think recognize that would have been a nonstarter, discourse wise. There’s no rolling the clock back on a new Robin EXISTING, that’s been proven conclusively in the past. Once a character has been a Robin, you can’t argue away their right to ever be one period. If it couldn’t happen with Steph, despite the shortness of her Robin tenure and the smaller size of the girls’ fanbases relative the various Batboys (and let’s not pretend a disparity doesn’t exist there), then it wasn’t going to happen with Damian. So fans made their displeasure known in another way - venting it on the character that precipitated the changing of this particular guard.

And the thing is, ultimately, for all the comparisons made to the Bruce and Dick Robin debacle, they all fall short of being valid given two fundamental differences:

1) Canon has one hundred percent refused to ever fully address the conflict Bruce created in story when he fired Dick or just gave Robin away to Jason, with the only time its ever really been addressed in the comics being when Dick came to confront Bruce about it and Bruce made no form of actual apology or recourse, but instead ultimately just yelled at Dick about missing him and then told him to go. Which umm. Yeah. Oh, the resolution of it all.

2) The other key difference being that while there are certainly fans who have used these story points simply TO make Bruce look worse, the same as I'd argued happened with Dick in the Red Robin scenario.....it is still undeniable that there are a sizable number of fans such as myself who have always insisted we only raise this particular story element because we WANT to see better or actual resolution of the conflict raised in story - aka Bruce firing Dick or just giving away Robin - AS WELL AS being very clear on a perfectly easy way TO showcase better resolution: just having Bruce fucking OWN HIS ACTIONS AND APOLOGIZE FOR THEM.

So even with the awareness that while ultimately both Robin turnovers only happened because the writers chose that conflict happen, they remain incomparable in my mind purely because only one of them was ACTUALLY resolved or treated as resolved in canon, and like.....the other one is the only one that actually has fans continuously making the point of what story actions can actually be taken in meta, headcanons and fics, TO create the resolution we want.....whereas the other conflict will never be resolved any better than it is in canon, because the people who keep raising the conflict don't even want to acknowledge that it even WAS resolved in canon at all, because that would defeat the entire purpose of continuously worsening the conflict specifically TO create reasons for a continued grudge against Dick's character.

And you flat out just can't ever resolve a conflict that people ultimately WANT to exist.

[manicr]

X-Factor: Daken

Since I did a development analysis on Daken in X-Men Blue, it feels only reasonable to do one for X-Factor, especially considering the the latest issue (#8). I had thoughts that I articulated in the tags, but I think I should try to put them together and look at Daken as a character in the whole of X-Factor.

Firstly, Daken isn’t recruited into the team, he persistently volunteers despite the objections of the team. He is presented passed out on the bar floor, drinking to deal with his feelings. Word of God states he’s depressive again and Laura being in the Vault is a big factor in that. Daken later confesses that he’s been “playing nice”, implying what he did was trying to be good and finding it a role, rather than natural.  His drive to join the team seems to be desperate to distract himself from his negative feelings, needing purpose and preoccupation.

However, very in-character, he excuses himself with flippant commentary, and the fact that he finds Aurora attractive:

He, as in XMB, makes himself useful to the team with his powers and instincts, despite them not being welcoming of his presence. He persists and tries to reach out to them, even if only a little, like he’s learned to do with his sisters and what we saw in XMB. He even calls them out on their bullshit against him, and tries to “be good”. The team still doesn’t trust him, and are bothered both by his flirtatiousness and his past villainy.

He actively pursues Aurora and gets himself thrown out of Mojo-verse, however his interest isn’t just romantic/sexual, but he wants to solve what happened to her when she died. He knows she’s not telling everything. He tries to be kind and reach out to her, not forcing her to say, but curious -- maybe having his own hypothesis on what happened. He knows something is off, and can’t let it go. Seems to care enough to want to help her.

Now were three issues in and Daken has been trying his best to help, reach out and fit into a team that is not very welcoming or accepting of him. Aurora is a fixed point of interest for him, and he tries especially with her. She seems flattered by the attention at this point.

Then the X of Swords event happens, essentially without Daken though he fights in the background, and we get our first major time-jump. That jump seems noticeable in text, as there seems to be a greater comfort and trust in the team as a whole, not just towards Daken.

At a party in the Boneyard, Daken talks with Polaris, trusting her enough to ask her if the kindness he sees is real It is, and it’s a bit of an alien concept to him still. He equates it with lack of intelligence “simple-mindedness” or faking it as an act to get ahead/mask whatevers beneath. Polaris mentions his childhood trauma.

Daken also takes some ribbing from Lorna regarding his past and glum attitude, but laughs it off, but we get some foreshadowing through it. Daken’s trauma regarding snow is tied together in XF, harking to a Dark Wolverine era trauma of him  as a child being forced to ‘train’ in snow by Romulus. It’ll repeat itself in XF again.

We also get to see a little of what Daken does on his spare time, drawing with charcoal: having finally found some other outlet than fighting, fucking and drinking for his feelings.

He also reaffirms his interest in Aurora, as well as his familial affection for Polaris. He shows off growth in being able to have different types of affection, to have family that he cares for when back in his own series he refused social bonds like family (in ref. to the Fantastic 4) and saw them as based on fear, social obligation, and naivete.

Themes of being trapped, trauma and abuse are repeated in XF by different characters -- it applies to all of them in different ways. The letter “Why didn’t you just leave?” that speaks of this.

It echoes trauma that Daken needed to deal with himself under Romulus control -- even when he was physically away from him. His character arch has been to find himself, and not just flippantly in his eat-prey-killing comment, but also a way out of the trauma of abuse and making himself ‘smaller’ lesser to fit with the living weapon Romulus wanted. To find and dare to feel, to feel worthy, and not fear some punishment from his abuser. Of course, this applies to so many characters in X-F, both sub-textually and directly like with Siryn and Shatterstar.

One of the major relationship changes now in the book is Daken and Northstar’s relationship. Northstar confides and trusts in Daken as a team-mate from previously having refused it. Daken in turn takes his orders and seems to want that trust:

This culminates in Northstar rescuing Daken when he was trapped and beaten by the Morrigan. And according to Aurora, Northstar is behaving towards Daken as a person he doesn’t want to lose, by yelling for him and checking on him. He explicitly cares for Daken now, even with the protectiveness he still feels for Aurora. The dying in the snow theme repeats it self.

Then there is Daken and Auroras long conversation about his powers, her feelings and his feelings. He reveals the limits of his skills and she insists on understanding, which seems to make him feel better about it. She empathizes with the burden of his skills, seeing the drawbacks.

There’s a lot of subtext regarding his relationship with his own powers, he outwardly uses them shamelessly but at the same time this implies that it’s far more fumbling, uncertain and emotionally harrowing for him. And that he’s willing to see that and feel that rather than see it as his right to do whatever or refuse his powers utterly.

The Morrigan fight is overlayed with a speech about trauma, highlighting how it directly relates to Daken. He’s traumatized. He’s been abused. He’s been rewired to be dysfunctional, to hide his pain and the suffering. And it makes him feel worthless, unloved, and that no one cares, has never cared.

Later, Daken acknowledges how poorly he felt, how helpless, and how suicidal it made him feel. Even if he thinks its hypnosis rather than his own real feelings. His description fit in with depression and trauma-related issues, the feeling over never reaching shore, of drowning, and helplessness combined with the negative-self talk, that no one cares, loves him, or will be there for him since he’s worthless and a burden. But also how he looks to Aurora for comfort to deal with that.

Generally this issue irons out issues of consent, the genuineness of both their feelings as well as Daken being more like a real friend and family member to the team, but also about revealing his trauma. To show that he is not alright, despite his flippant flirty exterior. He struggles with his past, his trauma and his feelings about himself, and the belief that he deserves to be loved, cared for and to belong. This is repeated in issue #8 which hammers these themes home once more. Daken is not alright, but he wants to be.

This is growth from early Daken who didn’t even want to admit to himself that he was abused and molded by Romulus, and using rage and hurting others as a way of dealing with his own feelings, as well as using others and himself because it didn’t matter, he didn’t and no one else did either.

The in the snow theme is repeated and his fervent desire to be saved, from everything, himself as well as everything and everyone that might harm him. He seems to believe that being loved by Aurora will save him. Which is not the healthiest approach to dealing with trauma but a very common one, latching onto other people, because he doesn’t yet have the sense of self or self-worth to believe in it unless someone else does too. This for most people a necessary step towards growing and getting better.

He also is still stuck in the abuse-trauma-victim cycle and blaming himself for being harmed, seeing that he’s somehow not being good enough and that’s why he’s being hurt. “I’ll be good” are the words of someone who has been hurt over and over again by someone who made them believe they somehow deserved it. That they were ‘bad’ and needed to be punished.

...then he is faced with the fact that he truly does believe this about himself, that he’s not over it, that he’s not yet free or saved from the feelings that the trauma left behind.

But then... he dies, self-sacrificing to save his team mates and the information they carry, knowingly risking up to a week of his memory and experiences. He uses Aurora as a morality pet, to prompt himself into action, excessive such even.

He is resurrected without the memory of any of this to the point BEFORE Northstar came for him. He knows he lost that. He knows from reports that he lost things, even if not the extent of it, and now the hurt and pain from DAYS in the snow is fresh again, without any help from Aurora to process it nor knowing for certain that she loves him, without being proved that his team cares and came for him in the end. He might now the latter in paper, but that’s not the same emotionally speaking.

So, he’s angry. He knows he’s lost things, he’s been hurt and killed. But he doesn’t have the comfort of resolving these things with his team like he did, not with his habit of hiding his pain, and feeling like a burden. So he fights instead.

So, where have we ended up at the end of issue #8 of X-Factor?

Daken has been accepted by his team, because of all of HIS hard work, reaching out and kindness

Daken has opened up about his powers and his suffering (though lost half of it to the mind transfer time gap)

He has established a relationship with Aurora with clear consent, affection, but not yet full transparency of their mutual pasts (again some lost from his perspective)

He is starting to realize that he’s not yet ‘over’ his own trauma and that he’ll need to continue working on it (some lost)

Daken isn’t a perfect character nor perfectly written, he was abused and shaped by that abuse and trauma into something vicious, that he didn’t dare change from for a long time. Instead he tried to enjoy it, to revel in it, rather than face the pain and grow. He hurt and killed a lot of people, including himself, and it’s takes years of development for him to start to grow past that old self. Getting away from Romulus was only the first step.

He needed people to make him see how fucked up he was and to motivate him to be better, from Johnny back in Dark Avengers, then Laura and Gabby, and then trying on his own, attaching to Donna for a while, before teaming up with the X-Men and then X-Factor and Aurora as support for himself. It’s pretty clear that on his own, he can’t do it, he needs help, support, structure and purpose -- as do the majority of people. I’d also recommend therapy, but he’s not there yet.

One day he might stand on his own feet when it comes to feeling good about himself and managing his own life. But right now he’s in a place where he needs a strong support system, not just his family and lovers but also friends.

#daken #daken akihiro #marvel #long post

[themagicalmysticalboy]

Rarepair week, george&paul? Angst/comfort maybe? Let it be era? Hurt my soul :)

a/n: you’ve got it babe! i actually did some research for the flashback scene so it’s pretty accurate to reality, according to Ringo’s and some crew member's accounts.

Don’t Let Me Down

For as cold as it had been for the last month, the sun was shining high in the sky. A peculiar sight that brought a hint of warmth to Paul’s face but did not extend further than that. He could be in a summer's day desert and still feel the cold churn in his stomach. Looming tall and strong over him was the Abbey Road studio. The uncharacteristic beams of sunlight lit the many windows with a yellow glint. A million-eyed monster ready to tear him to shreds if he dared step closer. And he did dare. He peeled himself off his car and stiffened instantly. He’d been leaning against the passengers' door so long that when the wind hit his back it sent a shiver right through him. Or maybe it was solely his nerves. Either way, he didn’t plan to dwell on it.

A few Scruffs were waiting outside with paper coffee cups in hand and drink carriers stacked against the wall. So George was in. He had really come back. The cold churn rose to his chest. At this rate, he’d be a human popsicle by lunch.

There was a disjointed chorus of “Hi Paul” and “Good Morning” which he replied to with a courteous wave. He’d been largely turned off by the Apple Scruffs for some time now but there wasn’t really any malice. Having your house broken into was more than a bit off-putting, though. So he felt justified. George was the most tolerant of them, buying them coffees and breakfast foods every so often. They must have missed him while he was gone. Yeah. Surely they did. Because I did. Paul pushed the sentiment to the wayside. They still had an album to make. They still had songs to record and a documentary to be part of. He couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him again. That had only led to an explosion.

Preparing himself with a stiffened posture and pushed back shoulders, he walked into the studio with a smile. It was almost painful to keep up but the cameraman was already in his face and he refused to let on to his nerves. He needed some inkling of control here and there was so little of that to grab hold of these days.

When he walked into the recording room, he found people scattered across the room but he didn’t find John or Ringo. It was still early in the morning so it made sense but he was undoubtedly rattled by the realization, becoming more rattled when he noticed George looking at him. Paul didn’t dare meet his eyes, drifting down to his feet. He looked soft, despite his sharp features. Cozy in his furry boots and warm jumper. He missed looking at that face and touching that body and kissing those lips. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he’d been able to do any of that. Too long.

George gave a thin-lipped smile before turning to Billy Preston at the piano. Was that a good sign or was this small sign of grace feigned for the cameras?

Whatever it meant, it drove Paul mad. He didn’t think he deserved forgiveness but he sure as hell would take it. There was no helping the intrusive memories of the aftermath of George walking out. He had done it so nonchalantly that no one was sure he had actually left until they got to the recording room and found him and his guitar missing.

Something had shifted in the room as soon as the three remaining Beatles looked at each other. John was breathing heavily with an icy glare. There was a glint in his eye that screamed danger. It was focused on Paul. Picking up the bass with a death grip on the neck, Paul just stared John down. There was a mutual understanding in the moment. The rage in both of them was bubbling over more and more by the second.

John yanked his guitar from the rack and they both plugged into the amps. No one seemed to remember the camera crew was still around. They just turned to Ringo, who was already at his drums, drumsticks in one hand, rubbing his eyes with the other. He was pushing so hard it had to hurt. And that was it. John squared up to the mic and began to scream the lyrics to a song they'd already wrapped up but they all threw themselves into it without question. Screaming, banging, and heavy riffs filled the studio. Nothing made sense and every fiber of Paul’s being hurt so much that he didn’t care. He wasn’t alone in the feeling, at least. They all felt some level of hurt.

Ringo was even mad- at the situation or at George or at Paul, it didn’t matter. He banged and slammed away like never before. It sounded so wrong coming from him but at the moment it was the only right thing to do. They sounded perfectly horrible. There was a distinct addition to the vocals and Paul turned to find Yoko sitting on George’s little blue stool, wailing along with John’s screams. Yes. Perfectly horrible.

When the song was up the energy was still poisonous and thick in the air. They weren’t done, not by far. Paul stepped up to the mic and John did not move away. With little notion of what he was doing, he went at the lyrics of another song. The words spat from his tongue with vitriol and fire.

They all needed to scream. Ringo was at the mic at some point, coming up with random words on the spot. Really just to have something to yell about. 

When they finished, panting out the last seething breaths, Paul felt empty. 

“Way to fucking go,” John yelled, eyes fixed on Paul. “Way to go.” his voice was drastically quieter, more tired and sad and hoarse, eyes drifting to his feet.

Paul’s bass suddenly felt a thousand pound heavier, pulling the strap down against his shoulder painfully. Maybe it was more the weight of his mistakes than the bass. Everything felt painstaking and dreadful for the rest of the day. The anger was gone and the screaming was done. There was nothing else to keep his mind from wandering into a wall of depression.

In the present, sans John and Ringo, he shyly grabbed an acoustic guitar and went to sit in a corner. He worked on one of his own songs, quietly strumming and murmuring. He didn’t like it yet, keeping it to himself. The awkward air in the studio only exemplified his need for privacy. So he stayed tucked away, only speaking when spoken to, like a good little schoolboy. George had even come over to ask about the song but Paul told him it wasn’t right just yet. There was no way he was about to embarrass himself on top of all this.

He went back and forth for most of the day. Playing several takes of various songs before turning back to his own song. There was a part on one of the songs that Paul found needed a quieter guitar part. The thought of addressing this issue to George was met with resistance. Was he really ready to address him? The guitar part could be addressed later, maybe. He could suggest another take tomorrow. But the song. It just wouldn’t be right. And maybe no one would be willing to do another take later. That struck a nerve in Paul that rang louder than the rest of his rationale. 

“Maybe,” Paul started, resolving to look directly at George for the first time since he walked in. “The guitar could be a bit quieter next take, y’know? Just sounds a bit heavy.” He tacked on quickly, glancing at Ringo, “The drums too.”

Ringo gave him a pained expression. Paul looked George dead on with a weak smile, though he could see John’s cautioning glare in his peripheral vision. George’s eyes were dark and apathetic. His jaw was set tight.

George Martin came over just when he was about to respond. Oblivious to the tension between them, he clapped a hand on John’s shoulder with a grin. “That was a great take, lads. Why don’t you take a lunch break with the film crew.”

“Wasn’t good enough for Paul,” George huffed, leaving first. “But what is?”

George Martin didn’t hear the remark and walked off to talk with Mal.

“You’re really going to cock it up already?”

“What!” Paul went quickly to his own defense. “It was a suggestion, is all. I’m not treating him with kid gloves just because we had a row.”

“A row? He left the bloody band.” 

“Not being a prick for one day isn’t kid gloves,” Ringo suddenly chimed in.

Paul gaped. “Caring about the songs is being a prick now, is it?”

John huffed an indigent laugh. “You’re painfully stupid.” He left with Ringo in tow before Paul could ask for any clarification. Not that he was sure he wanted any.

Stunned by the attacks, he stared blankly at George’s guitar. He had absolutely none of his friends at his side. He had managed to push them all away when all he wanted, so desperately, was to bring them together. They were slipping through his fingers like grains of sand and all he could seem to do was open his hands to quicken the fall. He’d lose them forever. It was all his fault. How long would it take? When would they figure out he wasn’t worth the trouble?

He just wanted them to be alright. He wanted to go back to how they were and just tour a bit. Play on stage like they all used to love. The band couldn’t rip apart. It just couldn’t because Paul would tear apart with it. And yet here they all were, at wit's end with one another. The connecting link to this free fall was Paul, of course. He had made Ritch leave and then George. It was all too obvious that John wanted out - surely Paul’s fault as well. 

He couldn’t imagine a world without Ringo, John, and George playing at his side. He didn’t want to. It was something new and terrifying that had no qualms with keeping him up at night, even when three glasses of scotch in. He couldn’t recall the last time he slept without drinking. Even still, nightmares filled his dreams and made sleeping seem worthless and just as tiresome as not sleeping at all. What a poor excuse of a man he was becoming.

With a tight chest and burning eyes, he got up. Thankfully, the film crew had truly gone to lunch. He was mostly alone with a few straggling technicians in the booth.

There was no way in hell he could go to lunch now. Not while it felt like the world was out to get him. Not while he felt on the verge of crying. Instead, he decided to go outside for a smoke. The cold winter wind cooled his hot skin. He fell against the wall with a thud and bit his lip. His eyes were pricked with tears but he wouldn’t let them fall. Not here. Not now. 

Dragging a hand down his face, he dove into his pocket and pulled out a spliff he’d rolled that morning for this very reason. His hand was caught on his chin as he eyed the thing. A beacon of hope.

He wasted no more time in lighting it. The earthy taste coated his tongue and warmed his throat. He relaxed on the exhale and repeated the process until his mind was a little numb. The carefree smoke floated high above before disappearing into the brisk wind. It would be so much easier to disappear with it.

“Stay gone too long and they’ll think you quit too.” 

Tension pulled at his neck and traveled down his body. With an involuntary jerk of his fingers, the spliff fell to the concrete. He didn’t look at the newcomer and didn’t need to. The calming drawl could only be from one person.

“So?”

Paul reluctantly turned his head to find George’s steady gaze on him. Words abandoned his brain. “So,” he asked stupidly.

George’s features suddenly dropped and Paul noticed there had been a hint of lightness seconds before. Great. Already cocking it up. 

“Oh, fuck you, then.”

“George! No, no!” He jumped forward and grabbed George’s wrist. “Please, love.”

There was hesitation in George’s step. He shook Paul’s hand off but did not leave. “Do you even care? Care that I left.”

His brow furrowed and his mind swirled back to life. “Of course. We were all-”

“I didn’t ask about the others. Did you care?”

It seemed like such an absurd question. There was nothing to suggest he didn’t. He was downright miserable. Was that not plain to see? Something inside him made him want to switch back on the defense. Deflect and reject. But he couldn’t let himself slip anymore. Everything was on the line now. His entire relationship was up to bat. He’d just be honest. And honesty wasn’t all that hard when your heart wrenched at the thought of this charade continuing for another second.

“Yes! I cared. I thought you’d never come back and I was terrified.” He was desperately searching George’s face for any recognition of belief. “You didn’t answer my calls for weeks and I thought you wanted nothing to do with me. If you don’t I can't even blame you at this point. Just tell me what I did wrong.”

There was no hint of emotion from George. He had a corked brow that could mean anything. The time passing with no answer couldn’t be good. Maybe he wouldn’t answer at all and just leave Paul standing here like an idiot.

“You want to know what you did wrong?” A look of contempt screwed up George’s features. “I don’t even know where I’d start.”

A weight crushed every bone in Paul’s body. He deserved this. He deserved the heartache and pain. The more it hurt the better George might feel. He just had to hold his asinine tongue. 

“You treat me like I couldn’t find writing talent if it bit me in the arse.” Paul tried to interrupt, despite himself, with an explanation. “Shut up and listen!” George moved closer, sizing Paul up. “When’s the last time you took any suggestion I’ve made seriously? You’ve been screaming from the damn rooftop about staying together and getting back to basics yet you sit in your little fucking corner like a punished child, ignoring us to work alone. What’s the point, then? Just to show how much of a pain you can be? You act like you don’t want me- any of us- near your songs and then boss us around on our own.”

George was pulling in unsteady breaths. He leaned forward slightly, really looking into Paul’s soul.

“You weren’t even the one to ask me back. Had Ritch do it for you, you coward.” George pushed him into the wall and Paul took it. “And you have the gall to ignore me! Even when I came to you like a stupid loyal puppy! That’s how you see me, isn’t it? Your little puppy that you get tired of when it makes too much noise. Well, fuck you and your damn songs. Fuck whatever you think you’re doing. You’re not keeping us together and you never could.”

Just punch me. The thought was screaming at the forefront and wouldn’t settle. Too angry with himself to stop, he yelled back, “Don’t you think I know? I see everyone slipping away and turning from me and all I can do is push you further! No matter what I try or how good I think I’m doing, you’ll just leave me out cold.” Caught up in it all, he shoved George back. “And you’re not a puppy! You’re my mate. You’re- I love you, alright.” 

His voice cracked and, god, he was crying. He was actually crying and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Really just didn’t think you’d come back if I asked. And if that makes me a coward then sure. That’s what I am. If being a coward is what I need to have you near, fine.”

A muscle in George’s jaw tightened. He was stiff and his eyes were damp. His voice was so soft when he said, “Why didn’t you look at me? When you walked in you wouldn’t even really look at me. And when I tried to talk you just buried your head in your notebook.” He laughed mirthlessly. “But as soon as you have an issue with a song you go in with those big eyes of yours and I don’t want to hate you. It’s not fair.”

“You’ve said it, y’know. I’m a right coward. Scared to lose you if I speak and losing you just as fast when I don’t. Shouldn’t have turned you away. I shouldn’t have ignored you. The song- the stupid song. Don’t know if I even cared about how loud your guitar was. I just wanted to look at you, I think.”

“Looking at me now, aren’t you?”

And he was. They had been staring relentlessly and it felt good, no matter how much yelling they’d done. He wiped harshly at his cheeks to clear them of tears. “I’m sorry for being a prick.”

“Aye. You should be.” The words might have hurt if the corners of his mouth didn’t twitch up. He rubbed Paul’s shoulders and arms. “Just talk to me, okay? I won’t disappear, I promise.”

His smile was sad but genuine. All Paul could ask for. He nodded but then realized he already missed the point. “Okay,” he voiced. “Talking. Always been my strong suit.”

George’s smile grew and he pulled Paul into a hug. He hugged back fiercely, balling his hands up in George’s jumper.

“I don’t deserve this.” The words weren’t meant to leave his mind but they seemed to come of their own accord. 

George moved him back and Paul almost pulled them right back together. “What do you mean?”

Bringing a hand up to caress George’s cheek, he tilted his head. “I don’t deserve to have you. Don’t deserve to have this band. Wouldn’t you be better off without me? I’m just here to cock it all up.”

“You… really mean that, don’t you?” With a shaky breath, George brought him back into the hug and gently held Paul’s head to his shoulder, petting down his hair. “No matter what happens to the band, it’s not because you don't deserve to have it. It’d be because we all need space, alright?” He held Paul a little closer. “And you don’t get to decide if you deserve me. That’s my decision.”

Paul nestled into the crook of his neck, scared to ask but not willing to keep it back. “And you think I do?”

“No. No. I just fancy hugging people I hate.”

Paul smiled into his neck. “Arse.”

#beatlesrarepairweek #mcharrison #mcharrison fanfiction #the beatles #George Harrison #paul mccartney #John Lennon #Ringo Starr #the beatles fanfiction #the beatles one shot #the beatles rare pair week

[moonflower-31]

I Won’t Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist 

Part 9 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader 

Warnings: Just some self doubt. 

Tags: @dra-reid, @eevee0722, @ceeellewrites, @anotherr-fine-mess, @ssahoodrathotchner 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

If you were honest, you didn't sleep much that night. Too much was on your mind. Namely a specific Doctor. 

You stared up at the terrible, obnoxious, and stupidly carpeted ceiling. It was a silly pattern you'd expect to be in a cheap motel that most likely had bed-bugs. Not one that was considered 'decent'. 

You had tossed and you had turned over and over for the past hour. The way Spencer had completely ignored you after the interrogation irked you. You kept getting mixed signals from him. Was he just jealous? Did he just not want to see his friend sexualize herself? Or was it just embarrassment that you were his coworker? No matter how much logic you applied to the situation, the latter seemed to be the truth. And that hurt you to no end.  

Were you really so much in the wrong for Spencer to think badly of you? You'd think he'd be one to understand that people make mistakes. Or that you have to do some things to get to the end goal. And that not all of those things are pretty or something a 'lady' should do. 

But then the other portion of your cerebrum began to ponder whether or not you were just overthinking this. That you had only known each other for two months. Over that even. And you remembered every waking moment. 

After staring into the void that was the ugly ceiling, you sat up with a huff. This was ridiculous. You weren't going to be able to sleep whatsoever if you didn't resolve this. At the very least put the self-doubting part of your mind at ease. 

You stood up from the terribly hard mattress and grabbed your phone. You adjusted your shirt and the way your pajama pants looked before you exited your room on a mission. 

You brought up the memory of Emily giving you your room number and overhearing Spencers. Room 206. 

You locked the motel door behind you and headed towards the door in question. Thankfully his room wasn't too far away from yours. 

You finally reached the door and without fully thinking about the time and whether or not knocking on someone's door at fucking 3 in the morning was going to piss them off, you knocked three times. 

And then that's when the doubt set in. Immediately you began debating on what was the safest escape route. The side of the building was closer to Spencer’s room than your room was. Maybe you could just ditch the doorbell and hide behind a bush like a child. 

But of course, as soon as you had made up your mind, the knob miraculously turned. And a few moments of nervous panting later, he opened the door, giving you a curious, but genuine smile. 

"Hey, (L/N). You need something?" He asks. You narrow your eyes at him. He was asking something so off the obvious elephant of a topic that you knew he was avoiding it. 

"Yeah, I'd think coming to your door at 3:02 am means I need something, Spencer." You tease. He chuckled back and smiled a little easier. 

"I'm listening." He promises, his gaze focused seemingly on your eyes. 

"Heh. Well… first off, why are you even up? And don't give me the excuse that I woke you up. Because you are a dead heavy sleeper." 

"Guess you caught me." He says. His body language was completely different than what his eyes and words were telling you. He was looking at you warmly and greeting you kindly like a friend. But his body language was more hesitant, almost like he was trying to keep himself from doing something. 

"Guess I did." You trailed as you pondered over your newfound observations of the tired Doctor. "So? Why are you up?" 

"I...can't sleep." He admits with a heavy sigh. 

"Really? Well, I guess we're both insomniacs." 

Spencer lets out a gentle laugh and looks down towards the floor. "I suppose we are."

You laugh gently with him for a few more moments, before you both fall back into silence. You look away from him after a build-up of embarrassment just as he turns to look you in the eye. You were both so damn awkward. 

After a couple of seconds, you didn't know where it came from but a strong surge of confidence pushed through your veins. 

"Look… Spencer…" you begin, looking up at him. His ears seem to perk up at your starting tone, finally looking you in the eyes. As you stare into his hazel eyes, you feel the nervousness of talking to him melt just a little. You could do this. 

You take a deep breath and continue. "I don't know what I did, exactly to warrant you ignoring me yesterday. I get that seeing someone you're close to doing something like what I did, probably was as embarrassing as it was for me to do it knowing you all were watching." The blush on your cheeks brightened and you could feel how warm they were. 

Spencer turned his head slightly to the side, his eyes narrowing as he began to try and understand what you were saying. Before he could say anything in response, you continue your statement. 

"But I don't want our job to drive us apart. Cause… I kind of like this dynamic we have. I like being your friend and I like talking statistics and facts. Especially when we both know that the rest of the team won't understand. It's the best way to mess with them." You begin to laugh as you continue, your eyes never leaving his. 

"I-I do too…" he admits, smiling down at you. He wanted to say so much. So much was on his mind that he wanted to tell you, but he knew you had to say your peace first. Otherwise he'd be talking over you.

"I don't want to lose this. So… let me make it up to you. Let me bring you over to my place this time. I'll let my roommates know not to bother us and I'll show you Voltron or something." You suggest, sighing through the last few words. "Please. Don't push me away. You're the one person I've met in the last five years I haven't wanted to push away so they didn't get too close." 

You immediately realize what you said, causing your rapid inhale to stutter. You desperately hoped he wouldn't take it the wrong way. Even with as much as you wanted to tell him here and now how you truly felt, you knew you couldn't until you dealt with your mother. She had ways of torturing you and the people around you that you didn't want to be used on your newfound family. So for now… you had to keep it on the down low. 

Spencer's gaze got as soft as it could get and he smiled his brightest. "People with abandonment issues, whether being abandoned or doing it themselves tend to have a harder time choosing and keeping friends. So… I'm glad to have made that cut, for you." He expressed. "And… I would gladly have a vol...tron marathon with you. With or without your other friends." He assured you. 

And in that instant you felt as if the entire world was lifted off your shoulders. You had been so nervous that he was going to reject your attempt at making up. Guess that was what you got for assuming of people. 

You smiled and pressed a hand to your chest. "Thank you…" 

Spencer nodded slightly, his smile still present on his lips. After a few moments he widened his eyes and looked around. "Do-" he started, watching as your bare shoulders shivered a bit. "Do you wanna come in? I made coffee." He asks, an extra chipper tone in his voice as he began to prioritize your health. 

You chuckled. "Sure, Spence. I'll come in and have some coffee. As long as you don't start going crazy and bouncing off the walls when you're slap-happy." You couldn't help but tease, nudging his shoulder as he let you in. He grabbed a nearby blanket and wrapped it around you as you did, chuckling to himself as you teased. 

"I never got the idea of 'slap-happy'. The dictionary definition is 'casual or flippant in a cheerful, almost inappropriate way' but in recent years it's been used to describe a lethargic person unwilling to sleep." He asks, pushing the door behind the two of you closed. 

"I dunno where I even got it. I just kept hearing it used like that in my childhood. Guess it stuck." You pondered, taking a seat on the motel sofa. "So, where is this coffee you speak of?" You ask, putting on your most childish smile. Spencer’s gaze never left you, bringing him to a bright smile as he watched you. 

"Heh, I'll go get you a cup. Sugar?" He asks. 

"Three whopping spoonfuls, Spence. No more, definitely no less." You insist in a fake posh voice you definitely didn't make up just now. 

Spencer couldn't help the loud laugh that echoed out his mouth as he went over to the kitchen counter with the coffee maker. "Sure thing my lady." He played along with a chuckle, taking out the coffee pot and a cup to pour it into. 

He couldn't ignore you in hopes these feelings would go away. They weren't going to. He couldn't even get through 6 hours, 37 minutes and 43 seconds without talking to you. Or at least being near you. He couldn't sleep without knowing you were okay. Without seeing you before he went to bed. There was no use in ignoring these feelings. They were there, no matter how much he wished they weren't, for your sake. 

He was glad you took it as him being uncomfortable with what you had to do to get information from the unsub. Sure, it had caused a fire-like jealousy that burned in his chest. But that wasn't why he left. He left because a part of him imagined it was him getting to flirt with you. Getting to see under your skirt if he leaned back in his chair enough. It was perverted, and you didn't deserve that. 

He let out a gentle sigh and added the creamer and the three spoonfuls of sugar to your cup, letting his worries wash away. He had feelings. And sometimes those feelings lead him to the bathroom in hopes he wouldn't give it all away to you when you returned from interrogation. 

"One extra sugar-y coffee for her highness." He says, chuckling as he gave you your cup. You giggle from his own fake-posh voice, taking the cup as he hands it to you. 

"Thank you, Spencer." 

Spencer’s heart could have stopped right in this moment and he wouldn't be happier to see you smile as happily as you were. You trusted him. You wanted to be friends with him. If that's what he could have for now, it's what he would take. 

○●♡●○ 

You were groggy that next day when you got onto the plane and got home. The time you spent filling out the report for the case was mostly full of you and Spencer sending each other psychology memes through email when no one was watching, and waiting for the other's reaction. One you ended up sending him made him laugh so hard he nearly fell out of his chair. So despite feeling groggy, you felt victorious.  

"So… you wanna tell us what happened between you and boy-wonder?" Morgan asked, leaning against the counter in the lounge area of the bullpen as he drank his second coffee of the day. 

"Nothing! We just… talked. And now we're good." You answered vaguely, knowing the hell that would break loose if Morgan or Garcia even knew what you felt last night. Even if it was most definitely platonic, (at least that's what you keep telling yourself.) You couldn't deny how many times you actually thought about kissing him. 

"Nuh-uh, mama. You ain't gonna get away with just a touch and go." He teases. You rolled your eyes playfully, a smile pulling harder onto your face. Morgan grinned. 

"Kid, that face alone tells me something happened. Spill. Or I'll go talk to pretty boy and get my answers from him." He playfully observes and threatens. 

You widen your eyes and gently push against Morgan’s shoulder. "Hush. Nothing happened. We just had a chat at like 3 am over the coffee he made. And I fell asleep on the couch in his motel room, alright?" You giggle as you remember the night. Miraculously, you didn't fall asleep on his shoulder and trap him. You were glad for that. 

"Uhh uh… and I'm a superstar wrestler." Derek teased, taking another sip. 

"Who's a wrestler?" Emily asked, walking into the lounge with an empty coffee cup. 

"Apparently Derek is because he keeps insisting that something happened last night when nothing did. Spencer and I just had a chat. Nothing more, alright?" You insist, hoping Emily would be more on your side. 

"Alright, whatever you say kid." Morgan gave up, drinking the last bit of his coffee before washing it. "Have a good night, (Y/N). See you tomorrow." He bids you farewell. You roll your eyes again and wave him goodbye. 

Soon after Morgan left the doorway, Spencer replaced him, obviously looking for you. Emily looked at you once she realized who you were looking at. She smirked and nudged your shoulder.

"What?" You ask, seeing Spencer coming towards you. 

"You got it bad." She comments, immediately sending your cheeks into a bright red fury. 

"Who's got it bad? Is it allergies?" Spencer asks, making you sigh with relief that he was so innocent in those departments. 

"U-uh…" you start, seeing Emily watch your misery with a smirk on her face. You make a mental note to get back at her for this later. "Yeah, talking about u-uh… allergies. I get them bad." You finally answer, feeling stupid for taking the low-hanging fruit. 

Spencer, thankfully, didn't say anything and instead shrugged. "Well, I hear the over the counter medication Aleeve can help with that." He offers, clutching at the strap of his bag. You smile at how cute he was in his cardigan and tie. Always formal. 

"Yeah, I need to try it. A-anyway… you ready to go?" You ask him, walking away from Emily. You already knew she was giving you a teasing look from behind you. It was best Spencer didn't.  

"Y-yeah, I uh… was coming to get you actually." He says, looking into your eyes with the widest and most adorable fucking smile you'd ever seen. You felt a bit of yourself melt and flashed him a smile in return. 

"Really? Okay then, let's get going to my car. Unless you don't want me to drive to my own place." You tease, reminding him of how insistent he had been when he had offered to take you home. He chuckled, obviously remembering the memory. 

"I think it would be better if you drove. I haven't visited just yet." He answers, beginning to walk with you out of the lounge and out of the bullpen. 

"Good, so at least this time I don't have to worry about rain in my car cause I always keep a small part of my driver side window open for air. " you tease again, walking beside him to the elevator. 

"That… is a terrible idea. There are more opportunities open to people to steal your car than for your car to stay cool from an open window." Spencer expressed, giving you a look of disbelief. 

"Hey, it's a habit." You say, pressing the down button on the elevator. 

After a few minutes, you begin to feel a nervousness build up in your belly. The last time you left together, your mother had greeted you with her fake face and fake cleavage. You couldn't help but feel a little deja vu. 

Spencer looked over to you, having found something else to say. He noticed the gentle indent in your cheek, making him slightly smile at how cute it was. He reached out his hand and rested it on your back once he made sure you knew what he was doing. 

"I doubt she'll be here, (Y/N). The probability of her being here after two months, 1 week and 3 days is very unlikely. If she does, the office has been notified to arrest her on sight." Spencer assured, rubbing your back gently. You sighed again, a smile forming on your face again. You felt strangely assured as you felt the warmth of his hand against your back. It was even better knowing he didn't do this for everyone. This was going to be okay. You were going to be okay. Even if your mother decided to be a bitch and try and come back for you. 

"Thanks Spence." 

Spencer nodded as the elevator doors opened, prompting the two of you to begin your walk to your car. 

"So… tell me about this 'Voltron'..." Spencer prompted as you both entered the parking lot. You giggle and wrap your arms around your sides. 

"Man, you are so behind on the times." You commented, unlocking your car and climbing into the driver's seat. 

Spencer joined you in the car, promptly bumping his head against the ceiling of the car. You gasp softly and fight off the urge to laugh. 

"What are you, a gnome?" He groans, rubbing his head. You finally laugh, leaning over your steering wheel. 

"Try lowering the seat. It's one of the notches on the side." You tease in a mixture of laughter and giggles. 

Spencer smiled at your reaction, putting the seat down and putting his seatbelt on. You pushed through the rest of your giggles and started the car. 

"Oh… uh, just as a fair warning, my roommates they… can be a little much." You turned towards him and warned. He shrugged. 

"I'm sure they aren't that bad, (Y/N). I mean, we hang out with Morgan and Garcia all the time. How much more weird can they be?" He asks. "Considering the probability, not very likely." 

You shook your head and laughed. "Alright, let's see if your theory is correct, Doctor." 

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer x you #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer x reader fanfic #spencer #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfic

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Limitless - Chapter Seven

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Johnny (side pairing: Y/N x Jaehyun)

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: Language, and lots of angsty feelings

Genre: Hogwarts AU; Fantasy AU

Summary: The aftermath of the werewolf attack...

Taglist:  @jae-bread​​,  @lanadreamie​​, @do-you-like-riddles​​, @ki-aechan​​, @the-usernames-i-like-are-taken​​, @dru-shadow​​, @completencttrash​​, @haechans-sunflower​​​, @neocultech-baby, @jaectizen​​​, @yutamist​​​, @lunavbm​​​, @seriousballoon​​​, @lerissa​​​, @kickin–it​, @xiaojunssmile​

“You are protected, in short, by your ability to love” - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

The infamous night in question, in which my step-brother and his friends were attacked by a rogue werewolf because of a stupid prank, remained the topic of conversation around the Castle in the days proceeding the event.

Fittingly, all of those lofty rumors continued to evade the truth, and it was apparently predicated on the disparate accounts presented by Jisung and his friends because they were all first-hand witnesses. Yet, when it came to corroborating their testimonies, there were small details that were disregarded, and I still couldn’t convince my step-brother to tell me everything that he remembered. Apparently, it was too difficult to relive, but I had a sneaking suspicion that ulterior motives were preventing the truth from coming out.

Subsequently, I wasn’t the only person convinced that something important was being withheld, and it was a sore spot for our Headmaster who claimed that nothing was coming together. Unfortunately, it only severed his perception of the younger students, and I could tell that it would be difficult to convince him to lighten their impending sentences. Plus, in spite of my protests, our Headmaster was insistent on punishing Jisung and his friends to the fullest extent.

“The consequences,” the man seethed. “They’re far-reaching, and Mark will have to deal with the lycanthropy for the rest of his life!”

I winced at the harsh tone, turning to look at Johnny with a pleading expression. In return, the Slytherin Prefect sighed. “Sir, I understand the situation-”

“No!” the Headmaster interrupted. “I’ve made my decision, Mr. Seo, and I’m sure that you won’t like it. Detention for all of them every night until the end of this term! Plus, an additional 50 points will be taken from each of their houses.”

“Fine,” Johnny growled. “But don’t send them anywhere with Mr. Lee - he already has a personal vendetta against Haechan.”

“Well, maybe if your cousin didn’t cause him so much trouble,” the Headmaster rebutted. “I think I’ve heard enough for you, Mr. Seo.”

I quickly intervened because Johnny was getting nowhere with his arguments. “Sir, if you insist on detention, then perhaps we can turn the occasion into a learning experience.”

The Headmaster frowned, but didn’t immediately protest. “Go on.”

“The greenhouse is expecting new growth in the spring,” I said. “The school usually relies on volunteers, but perhaps the boys can shoulder most of the work? Jungwoo and I can supervise them.”

“I’m not surprised that you have a plan, Miss Y/L/N,” the Headmaster remarked, but his tone had softened. “I’ll consider your suggestion, especially in light of everything that’s happened to your younger brother. I can tell you care about him very much.”

I nodded my agreement, training my gaze on the ground while the Headmaster returned to his desk. “I’ve heard conflicting accounts of the events that took place over a fortnight,” he said. “I’m still not sure that the entire truth has been revealed, but since these boys can at least demonstrate some inkling of remorse, I’ll consider your proposal. Perhaps they can learn a thing or two about responsibility for one’s actions.”

“Yes, sir,” I agreed quietly, and when it was made abundantly clear that the Headmaster had nothing left to tell us, I dismissed myself from the office with Johnny hot on my heels.

“He’s harsh because he cares,” Johnny said, cornering me quickly against an alcove.

“I care too,” I said. “But you don’t see me forcing those kids to lose the rest of their first and second years.”

“They’re not losing anything,” Johnny said, but then he sighed when he recognized my resolve. “Fine, but there’s nothing we can do to change his mind.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “But he did make one good point about this whole mess: we still don’t have a cohesive account from that night, and it feels like you’re hiding something from me.”

Johnny scoffed at the observation. “I’ve said everything that I remember.”

“Really?” I muttered, crossing my arms in a decidedly petulant manner. “And if I were to ask everyone individually, all the accounts would line up together?”

“What do you want me to say?” Johnny asked, but it wasn’t as hostile as his tone suggested. “You heard everything you need to know.”

I rolled my eyes at the careful phrasing. “The truth always comes out.”

“There’s nothing left to tell,” Johnny insisted, and he shook his head before letting out a harsh exhale. “You’ll still meet me tonight?” he asked instead with a hopeful expression.

Despite the lingering suspicions laying heavy in the air between us, I forced myself to nod because Johnny still deserved that much since he had saved Jisung. Even if I still felt ostracized from whatever secret they refused to share. “I promised, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but it feels like you resent me,” Johnny said, and his gaze was searching. “I have something important to tell you, and I want you to let me explain everything before you react.”

I narrowed my eyes at the demand. “Johnny-”

“Please, Y/N,” he interrupted with force, and I almost staggered backwards at the lofty interjection.

“Okay,” I eventually relented. “I’ll listen.”

“Thank you,” he said around a relieved sigh, glancing back and forth between opposing directions of the corridor. “I know your brother will want you with him, but I expect to see you outside the Slytherin common room.”

“I already said that I would,” I reminded him, and Johnny chuckled before stuffing his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

I’m sure there was more to discuss, but I would wait until the designated hour to push Johnny for as much as he was willing to give me.

I would never force Jisung to do anything that made him uncomfortable, but it was hard to keep myself from breaking down and demanding that he recall the events of the unforgettable night that had landed his classmates in so much trouble. 

The biggest issue was the discrepancies between their versions of the events, and the truth was a confusing puzzle, but I was missing several pieces around the edges. “How do you feel?” I asked my step-brother when I stopped to visit him between classes.

“I’m okay,” Jisung replied, and he tugged on the sleeve of his hospital gown. “The medicine helps.”

“Oh?” I remarked, reaching for the bottle on the side table. “Are there any side effects?”

“Not really,” Jisung said. “Plus, they help me sleep.”

I sighed at his morose tone. “Is it hard to close your eyes?”

“I see everything in the dark,” Jisung whispered. “I remember everything.”

“You’re not meant to suffer like this,” I said. “That's now how memories are supposed to work.”

Jisung nodded, even though his gaze was distant. “Johnny said that you spoke to the Headmaster with him.”

“Yeah,” I said, and I wondered when Johnny had found the time to visit before me. “I-uh-I managed to convince him to let you and your friends work in the greenhouse under my supervision.”

“Really?” Jisung asked, and I was pleased to see the ghost of a smile press across his lips.

“Nothing’s set in stone,” I continued. “But he promised to think about it.”

“Thank you for trying,” Jisung said, and he reached out for my hand while reclining against his bed frame. “I’m tired of staying here.”

“It’s not very lively,” I agreed before clearing my throat. “What about the rest of your friends? Are they doing better?”

“Chenle and Renjun are fine,” Jisung said. “But I haven’t seen Haechan in a while, and Mark...” Jisung trailed off with a choked sound, glancing down the line of medical cots to the last bed curtained off from everyone’s view.

“He’ll be fine,” I tried to reassure him even though the words weren’t good enough when the situation could only be fixed by reversing time.

“I think Jaehyun’s looking for you,” Jisung said, and I followed his gaze to the unexpected appearance of the man in question. Jaehyun smiled as he beckoned me closer to the entrance of the medical ward, and I squeezed Jisung’s hand before joining the Gryffindor Seeker.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” I said, but Jaehyun simply shrugged in response and encouraged me to follow him outside.

“I thought we could walk together to class,” Jaehyun said. “Is Jisung feeling better?”

“I’m not sure,” I told him, speaking of the conflicting tightness that was incited by everyone’s never-ending concern for my younger step-brother. “He’s despondent, but I’m not surprised.”

“He’s a good kid,” Jaehyun said. “He’ll bounce back when he’s ready.”

“My father offered to send him home,” I said. “But I don’t think Jisung really wants that.”

“They’ve all been through a lot,” Jaehyun agreed. “Maybe we can keep giving them space and they’ll come around.”

“It just bothers me,” I said. “He won’t talk about anything that happened, and Jisung is always honest with me.”

“From what Chenle tells me,” Jaehyun said. “Which is very little, but Jisung was the most eager to join those older students. Maybe he feels bad about it.”

I blinked slowly at the suggestion. “I guess that might explain why he doesn’t want to share with me.”

“He trusts you,” Jaehyun said. “Give him some time to process everything for himself.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, but it was a half-hearted conviction. 

“Maybe you could talk to Chenle or Renjun in the meantime?” Jaehyun said. “They seem to be feeling like themselves, and even Haechan might discuss that night with you.”

I shrugged because it seemed awkward to approach Johnny’s cousin. “I don’t know...maybe everything will work out on its own.”

“I’m always here,” Jaehyun whispered, bringing me back to our surprisingly intimate conversation from the Three Broomsticks.

“Thank you,” I said, hesitating only for a second before accepting his outstretched hand. 

It was close to curfew when I left the Hufflepuff common room, navigating the changing staircases to the dungeons where the Slyhterin’s kept to themselves for the most part.

Everything was quiet, and I kept my eyes wide open in the expectation of finding Johnny somewhere close to the common room. But his voice still broke through the barrier of silence, and I paused at the sound of his voice. “Y/N.” Johnny whispered, summoning me to the opposite end of the corridor where he sat on a bench situated beneath the sole window allowing moonlight to seep into the quiet space.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” I said, but Johnny shook his head in response.

“I’m really glad to see you,” Johnny said, and his tone was unusually bright as he invited me to sit down next to him on the bench.

“I haven’t been down here much,” I remarked, but Johnny didn’t seem interested in light-hearted conversation, and there was something heavy in his gaze as those penetrating eyes briefly flickered down to look at my lips.

“How’s Jisung?” Johnny asked.

“He’s doing better,” I replied. “I saw him earlier, and I promised to meet him in the morning before my first class.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Johnny said. “They went through a lot, and I don’t think many Hogwarts graduates have experienced something so dark.”

“It was a stupid dare,” I grumbled. “I’m glad the Headmaster sent those Fifth years home.”

Johnny nodded, and my attention was distracted by the reflection of the moonlight touching the outline of his profile. “I have something important to tell you,” Johnny said, and his tone was hushed as if he was protecting a secret of significant importance.

“I promised to listen,” I reminded him, and the words seemed to help Johnny relax as he glanced out the window overlooking the grounds.

“When we were younger,” Johnny began. “I chose to be your friend because I genuinely liked you. It had nothing to do with our parents.”

“Oh?” I offered in return, wondering why Johnny had been prompted to include that unexpected anecdote.

“I heard about you and Jaehyun from some other students,” Johnny said, holding up his hand as a reminder when I opened my mouth to interfere. “I’m not stupid. I know that he’s interested in you, and that’s okay because I can’t really blame him, even if we don’t get along these days.”

Johnny sighed as he finally looked at me - really looked at me with a studiousness that rivaled Taeyong’s at his best. “I love you, Y/N,” Johnny whispered. “I need you to understand that my feelings are genuine, and I want you to choose me instead of Jaehyun.”

He was silent then, but his words bounced around inside my head - taunting and mocking - and I released a ragged sigh before laughing in return. “You can’t be serious, Seo.”

I didn’t mean for my tone to sound so ragged, but I could see the moment when Johnny’s expression morphed from affectionate to something a lot colder. “What do you mean?”

“First, you gave me all kinds of bullshit at that stupid Christmas party about my mother, and then when I try to be more amiable, you throw it back in my face like the arrogant asshole that you are!”

“Arrogant!?” Johnny growled, and he suddenly appeared a lot more hostile as he crossed his arms. “Y/N, I’m not trying to take advantage of you. I want you to know how I feel.”

“Well, that’s great,” I chirped, standing up from the bench with a sigh. “Let me know when you’re ready to act like a mature adult again.”

“Where is this coming from?” Johnny asked, reaching out to snatch my arm before I could leave. “Holy shit, you’re one of the most frustrating people I’ve ever met, and I still don’t understand why you think I’m joking?”

“Isn’t that what everyone’s doing?” I snarled before jerking my arm back. “Ever since that night, I feel like I’m being treated like an outsider who needs to be coddled. Why the hell is everyone lying to me?”

“Nobody’s lying,” Johnny said, but he only served to infuriate me even more.

“You’re so dense, Seo! There’s still something nobody is telling me,” I snapped, leering down at Johnny. “I think there’s more to the circumstances. Werewolves have never attacked so close to the Castle!”

“Fine!” Johnny exclaimed, and his eyes were dark with rage. “You want to know? I didn’t think you’d press so hard when it clearly made Jisung uncomfortable, but I guess you never stopped to think that he feels guilty for summoning that werewolf in the first place!”

Summoning?!?!

“What?” I immediately questioned him, and my mind was swirling with possibilities as Johnny paused when he realized his mistake. “Jisung summoned the werewolf?”

My heart thundered against my chest, and I reached out to place my hand against the wall because it felt like my entire world had just turned upside down. And I had no control over the dizziness competing with the rushing blood roaring inside my ears.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Johnny sighed. “Is that what you want to hear? Yes, Jisung summoned the werewolf because those fifth year pricks dared him, and maybe I was trying to save his reputation and protect him because I care way too much about his older sister!”

I swallowed hard, stunned by the confession. It turned out that the truth was a bitter pill to swallow, and I had no words left to counter Johnny’s demanding presence. 

“Y/N? I don’t know what you want from me,” Johnny finally said to break the tense spell of silence. “You keep making me think that there could be something more between us, but every time I take a chance, you always do or say the wrong thing and it makes me want to forget my feelings for you.”

“It wasn’t my intention to lead you on,” I said in return when I managed to control my ragged breathing, and it was very difficult to look at him. “I also wouldn’t have pushed you on Jisung had I known-”

“Really?” Johnny scoffed, interrupting me before I could continue. “That’s bullshit, and we both know it’s a lie. You’ve been pushing me ever since you saw me that night in the infirmary, and I tried to tell you to leave it alone, but I guess you don’t have it in you to just leave some things unsaid.”

“Maybe not,” I said in response. “It looks like you don’t know me as well as you thought.”

“I never insinuated that I pretended to know you,” Johnny retorted.

“Oh? What would you call our conversation from my father’s party, then? When you cornered me in the gardens and gave me a very inaccurate assessment of my character?”

Johnny laughed, and it wasn’t out of humor, but something darker and far more menacing. “The problem with you, Y/N, is that you don’t like to be told that you’re anything less than perfect! You try to mold this untouchable image of yourself, and it manifests into something obsessive! But since you’re so obsessed with the truth, then you should know that you’re far from perfect! In fact, you’re one of the worst people I’ve ever met, and I feel sorry for someone who can’t recognize their faults.”

“You’re no saint either, Seo,” I reminded him, even though the statement itself felt petty. 

“But at least I don’t try to deny it,” Johnny gritted out, and he shook his head while his raging expression settled into one of stoic intensity. “Forget what I said tonight. I’ve heard enough to change my mind about you.”

“Good,” I retorted, frowning when he started walking back to entrance of the Slytherin dorms. “We’re better as enemies.”

But Johnny didn’t say anything to counter the aggressive statement, and I chose not to linger for another moment in the proximity of someone who had just proven himself to be against me.

But my brain wouldn’t allow me to forget the revelation of Jisung’s mistake, and I could tell that my step-brother was surprised when he woke-up the next morning to find me sitting next to his bedside.

“Y/N?” he questioned.

“I think we should talk,” I said, and Jisung could tell that I was serious as he immediately fisted the bedsheets between his hands.

“Is something wrong?” he whispered, and I sighed because the conversation would be hard for both of us.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” I started. “I feel like you’ve lied to me about that night.”

“I never lied,” Jisung said, and I rolled my shoulders back to try and dispel the mounting frustration threatening to explode at any moment.

“You kept something important from me,” I said. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Did Johnny tell you?” Jisung asked, and his tone matched the betrayal written across his features.

And since I had no obligations to defend Johnny, I nodded in response to Jisung’s question. “But I don’t trust him, and I want to hear it from you.”

“I didn’t mean to, Y/N,” Jisung said, and there were fresh tears threatening to fall. “I would never hurt Mark on purpose.”

I looked straight ahead, measuring the rays of lights falling through the curtains. “So, you did summon the werewolf.”

“Yes!” Jisung sobbed. “But I wish I could go back and undo everything, Y/N! The older students told us that we had to do it-”

“Do you obey everyone who asks for you to endanger yourself?” I snapped, and Jisung was caught off-guard by my dark tone. One that I rarely used around him.

“Y/N,” he whined. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

I closed my eyes because I was furious that he would burden me with that knowledge - the real reason for the cruel predicament that had befallen the first and second years who left their rooms to entertain the damning pranks of a few immature boys.

“If the Headmaster knew, then you would be suspended,” I said, and Jisung sniffled as he nodded. “I won’t tell anyone, but you need to understand that this isn’t something that will just go away over time. Because of what you did, Mark will have to deal with the lycanthropy for the rest of his life. On every full moon night, he won’t even remember his own name...”

“Stop!” Jisung cried, and he was rushing to swipe at his eyes. “Why are you being so mean?”

“Mean?” I scoffed. “Jisung, I’m being honest with you.”

“But you act like I don’t care!” Jisung said. “I hate when you talk to me like a kid. For once, I just want you to treat me like I’m not stupid. Because I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, okay? How am I supposed to face any of my friends again after what happened? When I see Mark...” He broke off with a choked gasp, clutching at his throat while exhaling. “I can’t sleep knowing that I hurt him, and I don’t know what you want from me!”

I froze at his final declaration because it reminded me of my confrontation with Johnny -  “I don’t know what you want from me.”

But Jisung’s outburst left me at a loss for words, and I could feel a huge chasm growing in the limited space between us while my younger step-brother crossed his arms and turned away from me. “We’ll talk about this later,” I eventually whispered.

“Much later,” Jisung said. “I don’t want to see you right now.”

“That can be arranged,” I muttered, and I ignored every instinct screaming at me to stay next to his side when I left Jisung alone to suffer with his guilt.

#nct fanfic #johnny fanfic #nct ot21 #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct series #nct hogwarts au #hogwarts au #johnny series #nct johnny fanfic #johnny imagines #johnny scenarios

[ary-se]

Heater || Juza/Reader

wrote this in a rush before pulling in buzama banner,, was super busy so it slipped off my mind:---) if i still don't get him, at least he actually comes home in this fic,, but in a completely different sense so i don't think it counts ;-((((

edit: game is still on itaru banner but hey,, gotta do it early 😌✌

word count: 2.5k

"I'm home." Juza muttered under his breath, softly closing the door behind him as to not make any noise. He greeted to no one, being completely aware that he would not receive any sort of response in return, knowing to himself that he got home hours late compared to the time he usually arrives.

Slipping off his shoes that you got him for his promotion half a year ago, he gingerly placed them next to your own pair of heels that you used nearly everyday for work, subconsciously remembering that it was the same pair he bought you for your birthday. In the back of his mind, he wondered when was the last time he stayed silent as he entered his own home, waiting for somebody else to welcome him back before he finally decides to announce his own appearance.

During the first weeks of moving in together, it was hard for you to tell whenever Juza got home—almost every action of his barely made noise whatsoever, right from his numerous attempts on unlocking the door with his own set of keys down to his footsteps as he walks to the living room. It wasn't wrong to say that it kind of felt like an innocent child trying to sneak in somebody else's house, but in reality that wasn't the case at all. That time, your only basis of knowing when he arrives is the time he leaves work and how long it took for him to drive home.

"You better say you're home when you get back from work next time! That way I don't get a heart attack when I see you out of nowhere!" You lightly scolded him once, the panic still completely evident in your features. It was when you were preparing both of your lunches for the next day—you were too deep in thought while keeping yourself busy that turning around and bumping your head directly to his chest nearly made you scream. It didn't exactly help when you learned a few questions later that he has been standing behind you for a few minutes already.

"...Sorry." He quietly apologized, not knowing what else to say right after you reprimanded him. It wasn't his intention to make you feel that way—the reason why he never tried to make anyone acknowledge his presence in the first place is because he didn't want to be a bother. That was why when he realized that you were getting concerned over an issue that he was unconsciously avoiding for the longest time, he already started to weigh the consequences of his own actions.

Juza is so used to putting himself down, degrading his own existence—it was to the point that the notion of other people aside from his family openly welcoming his presence was such a foreign concept to him. If he was being completely honest, he does not have the slightest idea on how he is supposed to feel when that happens, and he doesn't like it one bit. Juza wants to be able to at least show that he is more than capable of feeling appreciation, gratitude like normal people do, however his mindset built from constant self-humiliation holds him back from doing so.

While Juza does not exactly find the thought of his presence being acknowledged as something he is comfortable with, it's an idea he would gladly take pleasure in—as much as possible, he prefers to get used to it, especially if it meant being able to indulge himself into the simple joys of life with you by his side.

From that moment forward, there wasn't a day when he doesn't utter the words "I'm home".

For the first few times, the words were undeniably stiff and iffy coming from his own lips. He sounded incredibly awkward, as if he was forced into saying those particular words. After a week or two, you told him that he doesn't have to say it every time if he really is uncomfortable—you were starting to feel guilty that you had a momentary outburst over something that truly didn't matter in the end. It wasn't even a problem to begin with; there was nothing to fix, so why were you making a big deal out of it?

"No, it's fine." Juza simply shakes his hand in response, rubbing circles to the small of your back to reassure you that he totally meant what he said. His expression gradually steeled into determination as he answered, a huge contrast to his hesitant features from earlier. It was as if he is completely resolved to improve himself even in the smallest ways possible, a way of paying you back for your consideration and patience towards him despite his reputation. Juza believes he still doesn't deserve that kind of treatment from you no matter how many times you comforted him, saying that wasn't the case at all.

Soon enough, Juza was able to say those words comfortably—they roll out from his tongue much more easily than before, as if he has been saying it his whole life. Those words were always spoken out the moment he steps in the house, admittedly expectant of the usual "Welcome back!" from you.

That small exchange became the norm whenever the both of you were back from work. It may appear trivial to other people due to how common those pleasantries are between people who live together, but it held an important meaning to the both of you. It somehow signified the moment you opened up to each other, which was beyond the act of sharing secrets and making memories together—it was far from that. The change of the dynamic between the two of you after that was almost indistinguishable, but it's definitely there. And you're absolutely sure he noticed it, too.

He said those words so much and so often that he soon made a habit out of it. After some time, it didn't really matter to him if you responded or not—the latter solely implies that you were already fast asleep, which normally happens when he comes home late like today.

Juza took off his coat and slowly hung it on the rack, carefully tiptoeing his way to the dark as to not make any unnecessary noise. He prepared himself for the moment he is going to shiver from the room temperature—it is often cold downstairs in the middle of the night, Juza is painfully aware of this because of his occasional snacking on sweets whenever he wakes up during the ungodly hours. That happens more often than he would like to admit, and although he tries to keep quiet about his midnight kitchen raids, you will find out the next morning anyways.

Really... how would it not be awfully obvious, when you swore that you brought home a dozen of cupcakes from work without eating a single piece, only for half of them to suddenly disappear the moment you wake up?

Juza didn't fail to notice how the floor was unusually warm in the middle of the night, the current room temperature more comfortable than he anticipated. The heater isn't supposed to be turned on around this time—that rule is applicable to all of the rooms in the house except the master bedroom, that is.

Did you forget to turn it off before going to sleep?

He let out a curious hum as he approached the dining room. This was one of the rare days when he was too tired to even think of getting some sweets from the fridge—he should turn off the heater first before he retires for the night by your side. That was his only plan, at least not until he picked up soft, muffled voices from the living room. He doesn't recall you texting him earlier about having any visitors, and even if you did, it still doesn't make sense when all the lights were turned off.

Puzzled, he took a peek at the living room in order to figure out what was going on, his confusion getting the best of him.

To Juza's surprise, the voices he heard were coming from the television. It was running the old season of a variety show that he recalled got you way too invested, you eventually felt the need to record all of its episodes during the weekdays. It was the same series you binge watch every Friday night when you're off work with nothing to worry about for the next day.

Most of the time, if not all, Juza joins in your marathon just for the sake of it, and as time passes he unwittingly gets as engrossed as you. It was to the extent that his normal sleeping schedule that he has miraculously maintained for years started to get messed up during weekends. Gradually losing track of time, he always stayed up with you to watch all the recent episodes non-stop, at least that was the case until the last recording finishes playing. Almost every marathon ends with the both of you being panicky despite the sleepiness invading your systems, dawning into the unfortunate realization that the sun is about to rise in a few hours.

You were asleep on the sofa, your body using up majority of the space as you faced the dimly-lit screen. The soft breathings were barely audible, your chest rising and falling rhythmically with the low-volumed beats of the advertisement running on the television. You wore your pair of oversized purple polka-dotted pajamas, the ones you claimed that were definitely not your favorite—pretty doubtful however, considering that you always wore that specific pair of pajamas first and foremost whenever you finish doing the laundry.

The locks of your hair splayed messily on the throw pillows behind you, your figure tightly hugging a certain bolster pillow that Juza swore you brought downstairs from the master bedroom. You didn't fall asleep on purpose, which was apparent from one of your arms awkwardly stretching over your head, your hand dangling on the side of the sofa.

Juza shook his head in resignation. You're going to complain about your shoulder being stiff tomorrow if you stay that way, idiot.

He silently went his way towards your side, fully intent on fixing your position so he would be able to properly carry you to your side of the bed, all while doing his best not to disturb you on your peaceful slumber. Before he could do any of that however, he stopped right in front of your resting figure, kneeling eye-level to your face as he closely observed your relaxed expression.

The soft glow of the television highlighted every contour on your features. The wrinkles between your eyebrows were growing more prominent from the emotional strain you were experiencing at times. Just a few nights ago, Juza recalled you ranting to him about the things that happened to you at work, the frustration in your voice clearly building up as you spoke. The same wrinkles on your forehead creased, your eyebrows digging deeper in every single word you uttered. It wasn't like you to blow up, so Juza figured it was something serious—he will still listen to you either way, regardless if what you'll say is of great importance, or just pure nonsense that came out of nowhere.

You need a good rest, the stress was clearly taking a toll on you—you deserve to take a break more than he does. That was why the last thing he expected to see today is you waiting for him.

Juza sighed. It wasn't necessary for you to do this.

He already texted you that he was most likely going home late due to mishaps in his workplace, which was indirectly a gentle reminder that you did not have to wait for him to come home. Juza always got home in a particular hour so whenever he had to work overtime, the unavoidable guilt always weighed heavily in his chest. He appreciates the fact that you always understood his actions, no matter what the reason was behind it.

"You didn't have to wait." Juza immediately told you as soon as he saw you still downstairs—it was when he got home late for the first time. That time, you also fell asleep in the living room while waiting for him to come back with your phone on your chest—you left the screen turned on by accident, displaying the text messages you and Juza shared. There was a recent message of him telling you to go to sleep, though it remained unread as you were out like a light before you even had the chance to see it.

"I know." You replied drowsily, your tone impulsively confident as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. Juza sent you an inquisitive gaze as you yawned on the sofa, stretching your arms to relieve the soreness of your body from falling asleep in another odd position. Your sleep-addled brain refused to let you think of a good response despite all that, so with all of your remaining energy that night, you gave him a lazy smile as you peeked at him through your drooping eyelids. "But I wanted to."

Your sincere but somehow dopy response told him that this wouldn't be the last time you'll be doing this—he is positive you'll attempt to stay awake if he is once again unable to leave work on time. If he was being completely honest, he felt bad whenever you did that—it wasn't his intention to trouble you by sacrificing hours of sleep for him, which he was sure you definitely needed.

That simple act that you did so often didn't make him less grateful of your patience towards him. If anything, it just gave him more reasons to love you, even though the list is already longer than necessary, ranging from your tiniest, adorable habits to the considerate, thoughtful personality of yours—it was frankly a complete difference to how you managed to draw him in by brute force.

Juza knew right from the start how stubborn you were when it comes to things that mattered to you, so whenever he has to go home late, he is subconsciously aware that you'll pay no heed on what he said about not having to wait for him. Even though that's the case, every time he arrives really late at night, your sleeping figure always manages to catch him off-guard.

"You didn't have to wait." Juza whispered, a soft smile crawling its way onto his lips. His hand instinctively reached out to your cheek, something he typically did before he goes to sleep every night. A part of him was unwilling to pull away, his touch lingering much longer than usual—he stayed like that for a few more moments, barely noticing your free hand extending to his.

"Juza?"

Your eyed opened, clearly in a daze as you stared at him absentmindedly. He only hummed in acknowledgement, observing your eyes shining from the brightness of the television screen. Despite waking up moments ago, you still find it in yourself to lace your fingers together with his, your expression crinkling from the beam forming on your lips. "Welcome back."

He gives your hand a light squeeze. "I'm home."

#a3! #a3! act! addict! actors! #act! addict! actors! #a3! actor training game #a3! juza #juza hyodo #hyodo juza #a3! x reader #ok y'all in all honesty #THIS WAS SO EMBARRASSING TO WRTIE #ngl idk why either... #i had to stop writing for no one knows how many... #plaes send help..pleas e

[tribus-mantodea]

[ Lingering attachments. ]

Right! I’m sure there’s an AU about this somewhere already that I haven’t found but you know what, I’ll have my take on it regardless.

This post is just some considerations on the AU where the Traitor Lord lives once more through lifeblood shenanigans. (Awkwardly dubbed as “Lastlifeborn AU” because... it’s the Lastborn’s last life. Yeah, I know.)

I also have no idea how to interpret lifeblood so I’ll put that matter aside.

It would be a bit fun to entertain the idea of the dream-ghosts of Cloth and Traitor “speaking” after their due battle just before she finished savoring the moment. While he does hold some implacable resentment (embrace the infection to become stronger and yet for what? being unable to better protect his kin like he had intended? what was it that put these silly-meaningless thoughts in his head, his heart?), he does hold respect for Cloth and the Ghost first and foremost for beating him in an impromptu duel.

“I’m glad to have fought a mighty warrior like you.” “...” (But he wasn’t one. Unlike the other Lords, he had cheated and lost his way.) “For one outside of my tribe, you battled well.” There’s a lot of awkward pauses and general recollection, the Traitor trying to sort out what had just occurred and what had happened before all this.

Maybe the Ghost comes back in time to not both of them, but at least the Traitor staring at both his victor’s and his own’s bodies. It would seem to remember something—pulling out the Mark of Pride charm and showing it to him. See conflict cross his features, how he nodded as if he then understood something it didn’t.

And the Ghost is quite the mender of a bug itself. It’s compelled to try and resolve something that seems rather unresolvable; it breaks cocoons and cradles all these wiggling lifeseeds in arms and forcibly attempts to get the Traitor’s husk moving again. Said dream-ghost Traitor at first regarding the situation dismissively before growing into a strained panic and worry of “Cease your actions! What compels you to desecrate my corpse—?...” “Just how many did you manage to bring with your small stature...?” (It would’ve been more deserved if his body were to be broken into segments much like the others. His mind feels hazier as if overcome with fatigued the longer it tries, and...)

What. Why is this little bug back in his view and why does he feel so. Tired. Oh. The Traitor... does not deserve this, no, unless this was his punishment to burden the weight of his own sins, but it’s ultimately uncomfortable—he died twice already in removing his title and in true battle. (His body felt wrong before for different reasons, but it felt even worse now that he’s reminded of the air and his other senses.)

And the Ghost does its best to try and point him in a direction it wants him to go. Incessantly tries. But he shook his head, clicked, said aloud that he’d resolved to return to the village and accept the sentence that should have been given when he was deposed. (Imprisonment. Death.) It’s only then does the Ghost no longer tries to point him in a direction (and how strange; was this the same way it pointed its nail?) and accompanies him the... the entire way...

It’s not that long of a trek, no, though his mind is clouded with all sorts of thoughts and regrets. He’d seen his Daughter’s grave for the last time. (The little warrior seemed to insist on giving him a flower, but even when he did finally accept if only to appease it, he’d merely set it back by the grave.) He’d seen his reflection in the pools of acid, the glow of an unnatural cerulean he does not remember seeing unlike the festerous cloud of orange. And... the occasional husks of what had been the split of his tribe.

The village is far quieter than his memories. It is a complicated feeling to see the mantids that watch with both confusion and hissing resentment, those that knew of him formerly and those that did not. Perhaps it must look like a show? To observe how the honored outsider escorts the depose Lord, a beast thought mindless returning in its newly sickening form with not the sweet-sickly orange, but a dim blue glow of what they vaguely remember other bugs considering as taboo (how funny of them to worship and pray to begin with). His thoughts grew louder; he wondered if he could ever make amends. He figures it all in vain. That’s fine, really.

...One thing led to another. The summary is that he does not die, and is “punished” to live with his decisions after it is thoroughly seen he is remorseful (to an extent). It does take a long while for this family to sort out their issues properly though.

Bonus side-note is that the Ghost can be treated as part of said family (but not really, but also hey look its horns are notched twice just like the Traitor’s and—)

Bonus reactions to said return:

The First just wants to know why it happened, so she can reflect and see where the both of them (mostly herself) had went wrong. Her own regrets she’d shouldered still smolder long after all the initial anger and confusion. Considering there’s only so many of them left, she just wants to hear him out (and oh, how strange-wrong it is to hear the difference in his voice now, to see him taller but with the lack of pride from before). In the end, she’s... relieved, almost, to see him the way he is now considering how she longed to revisit old things. Not that they could still return to them. But, well, new interactions to unfold, lots of baggage to pack.

The Second’s the one who’s most expressively upset. Frustrated that she cannot take her pains out on him as when she’d forced his claws to a duel, it was more than clear that his heart wasn’t in it (how disrespectful; how dare he seem so inclined to let the end of her nail-lance sink deep and through). She’d always known him to be a great fighter, so the reasoning behind him embracing the infection was more than just insulting as a betrayal. She despises the more passive behavior (this wasn’t the brother she remembered, what had happened to the hint of deserving arrogance he once bore?) and most of all, resents herself for not having done something more given the more responsibility their eldest took on.

The Third is uncharacteristically quiet, unsure and sorting out her emotions just like before (but managing to unintentionally, somehow, be the coldest towards him). She’s always been aware that while he did seek counsel, most often asking the eldest, he also disliked relying on anyone else and she never minded that, no. She felt as if she knew why he’d left. But in knowing what happened to her niece and the other, closer followers that had looked up to him, it was difficult for her to figure out how to respond to him in knowing the losses sustained. It’s... she eventually decides, though, to accept with resignation. He’s dealt with their other sisters and the disdain of the village and would continue to do so (probably). She’s just happy to have him back even despite the changes. She can at least... try, to not make the transition jarring by having even herself different in behavior. Sort of.

-

Redacted consideration was that he’d lose most if not all of the memories during his time of being infected because while it’d be fun for him to think that nothing more than him waking up in a random location happened and then seeing the husks of his tribe(?) along with “Whose grave is this?” and returning to the village almost as if nothing happened, the sisters would have a Horrendous Time alongside the Traitor if he by chance was then told of what happened.

anyways my AUs are to be self-indulgent, not to combust spontaneously :D I probably amplified the inferiority issue a bit too much here but Welp

alright bonus-bonusnonsense below:

little ghost does crimes. shoves lifeseeds into husk (in which some lifeseeds happily run away into said husk to get away from the chance of dying by tiny bug)

bug tries to slap mark of pride charm onto the former traitor lord

aand this:

It watches as he idles a moment longer, bowing his head towards the marked grave of his late Child. Quietly it comes closer, hesitantly, and reaches out—rests its hand onto his side and gently curls its fingers into his cloak. He does not move. So the vessel tilts its head, sits. Decides to wait for him—and rest. (aka it’d be quite nice, you know, to imagine the trek back where the Ghost doesn’t forcibly try to understand the dude, but is a sort of comfort... or maybe... just... a reaper, escorting him to his death. but then jokes on you big man it’s a friend!!)

#;;atone unto the final breath #;;lastborn #;;a heart forged into nail #\\

[kinetic-elaboration]

February 13: Star Trek Beyond

Some attempted thoughts on Star Trek Beyond.

So first it was bad lol. It is the worst. I thought maybe it would be less the worst than I had previously thought but it really, really is just irredeemably bad.

Trying to keep up with what was actually happening and talk in the group chat was too difficult and I now feel very exhausted lol. And I’m not even sure what I watched.

I liked Jaylah a lot, including her back story, characterization, “house,” traps, and cool mirror tricks.

I also like Kirk in that emergency uniform with the jacket unzipped.

That’s it! That’s all I liked.

In the past I’ve also said I liked the Spock and Bones parts but I honestly wasn’t a fan of them either this time around!

None of the characters felt IC and none of the relationships felt true or were compelling. Which is particularly egregious given that the alleged theme was strength in unity.

The movie was especially lacking in K/S content or even K & S interaction, which obviously didn’t please me. And it’s definitely the worst Kirk characterization I’ve ever seen. There’s no excuse for that either because it’s halfway through the 5YM, which means he should be pretty close to TOS Kirk--yes, he has a different set of experiences, so there’s going to be some variation, but there’s comparatively less excuse for a radically different characterization than in STXI and STID. They should have had Shatner read the script and make notes lol because whatever else you might say about him he KNOWS Captain Kirk.

Like, he (Kirk) lacked humor and charm and, often, confidence. He had moments when he was very smart and moments when he had a commanding presence. But he had just as many moments when he was whiny or bored and his Captain’s log??? I deserve financial compensation for every time I’ve listened to that. Bored of space?? No, this man is bored when he’s stuck on Earth. He stagnates in desk jobs. He is an adventurer and explorer before he’s ANYTHING else; if you don’t get that, you don’t need to be writing Star Trek.

Also, as I have frequently complained, I’m tired of him having no internal conflict or emotional complexity past his father issues. First reboot movie: dealing with his dead father’s memory and his step-father’s abuse. Fine, that makes sense for how they set up the AU. Second reboot movie: entirely motivated by the need for Manly Vengeance upon the person who killed his father figure. And for this redundant story line (in many sense) we had to lose Pike? Third reboot movie: you’d think he’d finally be ready to move on to other conflicts but actually no this time he’s sad about his birthday and having a longer life span than his...you guessed it!! father!! Yet again.

What else has ever motivated him? Legitimate question.

The destruction of the Enterprise was truly horrific. Long, boring, unwarranted, and without any emotional punch. As if it were just any ship! No, she’s a character in her own right and she’s not to be sacrificed like that but please tell me again how Simon Pegg is a true fan who brought the franchise back to its roots?

B said he did like that they split up the crew into unusual units but I have mixed feelings about it. I don’t entirely disagree, but I don’t think they did a lot that was interesting with any of those separated units. Uhura and Sulu are a cool pair (but this would have been a good opportunity to include Sulu’s semi-canonical crush on Uhura but whatever... a different rant) and they almost did some interesting stuff with them. There were glimmers of a caper in that story line and times when I could tell they were straining especially hard to make Uhura, their Sole Female Main--now that they cut out Rand, Chapel, and even Carol Marcus--into something Feminist and Interesting. But it didn’t quite gel for me. Like, Uhura would be having almost interesting dialogue with the villain and holding her own...and then she loses track of her colleague and has to watch that person die, thus undercutting everything she just said about unity and seeming to prove the villain’s point. Is she competent or not?

Bones and Spock are a pair I care about and like but again I think their canonical relationship in TOS is more interesting than STB showed. I personally read them as like...reluctant best friends who originally just had one person in common, and then realized they also like each other too, but they’ll never really say it. They understand each other but pretend not to. They have fun with the barbs they throw at each other. They both deeply love Jim but in different ways. They enjoy their intellectual debates. (That’s one thing that was definitely missing from them here! The intellectual debates!) So again, there was something there but not enough.

And Kirk and Chekov just happened to land near each other; nothing was done with that relationship per se. They really aren’t people who have much of a relationship in TOS so there’s not a lot to work off of but then on the other hand there IS an opportunity to create something new. Maybe I’m being too harsh and too vague but it just didn’t gel for me. The only specific K and C moment I remember was that supremely un-funny joke about Kirk’s aim as he sets off the “wery large bomb.”

But like there are possibilities.. they’re both pretty horny and Chekov is a whiz kid and Kirk is also very smart and has always been smart... Like in other words people Chekov’s age don’t end up on the bridge crew, in either ‘verse, without the Captain’s say, so even though he’s TOS!Spock’s and AOS!Scotty’s protege, Kirk is important to his life. Something with that maybe??

I’m upset that Spock’s individual story line was about whether or not he should go off and make baby Vulcans because, again as I have complained many times before, that was a conflict he faced and resolved in ten minutes two movies ago, and it doesn’t make sense to me for him to bring it up again now just because the Ambassador is dead. Like... the Ambassador told him to stay in Starfleet!! “Ah, yes, I will honor him by doing precisely the opposite of what he wanted me to do.”

Also--if they had made his motivation different or gone into it more, I would have been more into it. Make it about New Vulcan! Say there’s news from New Vulcan that it’s not doing well. Or what if T’Pring got in contact with him? Or what if we used this as an excuse to bring in Sarek?

This is part of a larger point for me which is that STXI set up a really cool AU and STID tried to do something with it--a little hit or miss, but it tried--and instead of pushing even more at the AU and developing it more and doing more with it... STB just ignored it! Was that part of what Paramount was warning about with making it “not too Star Trek-y?” Was it SUPPOSED to be a movie you could watch without having seen the last two? If so they did succeed but like.. .why? They made the supremely ballsy move of blowing up a founding Federation planet two movies ago and now they’ve just forgotten about that and all the reverberations that would necessarily have?

But of course we got a call back to Kirk being a Beastie Boys fan so.... Guess it was Deep all along.

We all three agreed that the core story of this film was potentially interesting but could have been done as a 50-some minute episode of a TV series rather than a whole-ass 2 hour movie. First off, cutting or cutting down the action sequences would have shaved off half an hour easily.

I’m frustrated in large part because there are certain things that are interesting here. I do like the concept of the crew being pulled on to an alien planet by a ship of former Federation crew, from the early days of the Federation/deep space flight, who were presumed missing but are somehow still alive because they have turned into aliens/used alien tech to prolong life, and who have also captured other aliens, like Jaylah, for the main crew to interact with. All of that was cool.

I would even be okay with these old Federation crew being villains but I don’t think that’s necessary or even the most interesting take.

But...first of all, as my mom pointed out, Krall was basically Nero in his illogical motivations: feeling aggrieved because someone who couldn’t help him didn’t help him and then just maniacally wanting revenge. It made more sense to me with Nero in a way. Maybe that was because he was better characterized, maybe it was because his anger was more personal (the loss of his wife), maybe--probably--it was because he was angry at Spock and Spock had actually promised to help, so there was some kernel of logic in his sense of betrayal, even if it was out of proportion etc. Also, Nero’s mania was portrayed as mania--we were all supposed to recognize that the strength of his emotion was warranted but his logic was deeply flawed. I think we were supposed to think Krall had some kinda... real criticism of the Federation, but in fact he doesn’t! He’s wrong! So like if he’d been angry with the Federation for abandoning him but the narrative and the other characters explicitly recognize that he’s wrong--the Federation tried but he was just doing something very dangerous and he recognized that danger on signing on--that might have been more palatable to me.

I’m not sure I’m making sense here entirely or explaining myself as well as I could.

I just don’t entirely get Krall’s beef with the Federation. I don’t get that whole “being a soldier and having conflict makes you strong and having people you can rely on and connections and community makes you weak.” That seems pretty obviously false. It also doesn’t really seem, not that I’m an expert, but particularly in line with military ethos either.

BUT the idea that he had a life that was comfortable to him as a soldier and then the Federation comes in and forms Starfleet and says, actually, we’re going to pull back on the soldiering and up the diplomacy and the exploration and the science--yeah, I could see that. I DO think Starfleet is military but even if you must insist it’s not, it’s clearly based on and formed from the military, and it has certain military functions. So obviously the first people to join or be folded into Starfleet probably were more explicitly military.

So he’s one of those people. Now he’s supposed to be a scientist and a diplomat and an explorer and he doesn’t like that. He’s given this very prestigious and interesting mission and jumps at it. Starfleet warns him, you might go beyond where we can reach, we might not be able to help you. That’s fine. But then when his ship is stranded and he is lost, he gets angry--maybe somewhat irrationally, but understandably--why?? Why did the Federation do this to him? What was even the point? When he put himself in danger before, at least he knew why. But just flying around space for the hell of it, and this is the cost? So that’s what creates his anger.

I thin this could be tied into Kirk’s diplomacy at the beginning--if the scene were written to not be a comedy bit where Kirk looks like an incompetent buffoon and is completely disrespectful the whole time. He’s good at this job and we should say it. But we could emphasize that this IS a diplomatic mission often, just as often as it’s a military or scientific mission. Maybe we could include other bits of their missions, too, to play up the variety of things they do and roles they play.

Another thing I think could be interesting, going back to my point about Spock, Vulcan, and using the first two movies and expanding on the world building... what if Spock wanted to leave Starfleet for better, more well-defined reasons, and we used that? Paralleled the two? Connected the two?

Because I think Vulcan in the AOS verse is very interesting and the movies didn’t do nearly enough with it. First, we have the Romulans showing up way earlier, at least visibly: in TOS, no one knew what they looked like or their connection to Vulcans until Spock is in his late 30s. In AOS, it happens not long after he’s born. So he’s growing up probably with more anti-Vulcan racism floating around the Federation. THEN Vulcan is destroyed. Now it has nothing and it needs to rely on the rest of the Federation, which must be both humbling and frustrating to many Vulcans, on top of the extreme tragedy of losing everything. Most of their population, a lot of their history, their manufacturing, their scientific facilities, their resources, their animals, literally whatever else you can think of that a planet has--all gone. Now all of the survivors have lived some period on an alien planet, by definition, and they’re probably very dependent on the Federation not just to set up the new colony, but to replace all of the resources--natural and Vulcan-made--that they lost. And they’re a founding Federation member, Earth’s first contact. They’re especially important. And now they’re weak, and reliant on others.

So maybe Spock, early on, hears from New Vulcan and they’re not doing well. Maybe we hear from Sarek or T’Pring (...I’d just like to see reboot T’Pring). Maybe it’s not about, or just about, having children, but about being from an important and ancient family, and being seen as a hero for his part in the Narada mission, that makes him want to go and help rebuild their government (taking his mother’s place perhaps? she was on the High Council) or their scientific facilities, or the VSA, or their space travel capabilities--you know Vulcan had space ships of their own, outside of Federation ships. This would be the perfect place to showcase that tension between wanting to be independent--out of pride, out of fear, even--and needing help, because Vulcan could not survive without the Federation, probably less than 10 years out from the original planet’s destruction.

And then you feed it back into Krall.

So I could see like... well the tension, and then Krall comes in, and he's angry that the Federation "abandoned" him, but we actually explicitly address this. Maybe Spock gets to interact with him and say "I get it. You had a life and a mission and a purpose that was comfortable for you. Then the Federation came in and changed everything. A lot of my people are also feeling upset for similar reasons. But here's why actually you're wrong."

So anyway as you can see I’m smarter and more interesting than Simon Pegg.

I also hated, speaking of writers of this movie, the gay Sulu thing and HEAR ME OUT on this. It’s homophobic. His husband doesn’t have a name? Might not be his husband at all? Looks like he could be his nanny or his brother? As B said “at least grab his butt or something.” That was the most sanitized, no-homo depiction of a gay person I’ve ever seen. He’s gay (see, progressives and queers! gay! you like that right!) but DON’T WORRY STRAIGHTS--he’s in a monogamous relationship and has a child, he’ll show nothing but the most platonic physical affection with his male significant other, and the plot point will be so minuscule you’ll need a microscope to detect it. Also, we’ll throw in a no homo joke about two male characters not wanting to hug and we’ll make sure Kirk and Spock interact as little as possible, because we know they give off Big Queer Vibes every time they’re together.

Yes the last point is a little unfair but can you blame me for being angry about all the “look how hip to the times we are” back-patting that went on in 2016 when canonical bisexual Kirk is RIGHT THERE and we could have had ex-boyfriend Gary Mitchell instead of Unnamed Nanny??

Also Sulu is a hella random choice because again, like... he may not have had an s.o. in TOS but nor was there any indication he was gay. So it seems a LITTLE like they picked him because (1) his original actor is gay and gay people can’t play straight people duh so probably Sulu was Gay All Along I mean did you not get vibes???; and/or (2) asexual Asian stereotypes preclude giving Sulu any kind of love interest, male or female, that is actually... sexual, outright romantic, anything.

Anyway I can’t remember if I had any other thoughts, but I’ve said quite enough I think.

I miss Kirk so much... real Kirk... even my version of AOS Kirk who is probably not even characterized that well but at least I worked with love!!!

#the year 2021 #2021: star trek #2021: fandom thoughts #star trek aos #anti-beyond

[talktoten]

Anonymous asked: can you talk about the Doctor’s PTSD? 

This one’s been sitting in my drafts for a while because I had to wait until I had the right headspace to talk about it. PTSD is a really difficult thing to deal with and it’s not something that anyone is immune to - it can occur after any traumatic event, and it can manifest in a variety of ways, and almost always it makes the sufferer’s life significantly more difficult to live. (At the time I wrote this post) I have (had) never personally experienced PTSD and I don’t pretend that I know everything about it; I’m learning more about it as I go and it’s not one of those fun things you tack onto your character’s “about me” list. I am not using it in that way - it’s not something that’s fun to take advantage of at times, and ignore at other times. It’s a persistent, ongoing problem which effects most facets of a person’s life, and in saying the (tenth) Doctor suffers PTSD I’m intentionally pulling him into that: the fact that he suffers from it is an ongoing part of his life, and it is something that affects him literally on the day-to-day.

That said, the Doctor isn’t the sort of character ‘prone’ to PTSD. Because he’s a part of a family-friendly television show, a lot of the time he will take a lot of things without so much as a second glance - he’s fine with a lot of things that would be perfectly legitimate reasons for constant and ongoing nightmares for anyone in a five mile radius. It’s important to note that this is a life the Doctor chose, being surrounded by this death and destruction - when he stole the TARDIS and ran away, and chose to get involved in people’s problems, and chose to try to fix things … he chose this life. This is something that he actively, constantly decides that he wants to do. There’s no actual obligation for him to do any of the things that he does; he could just be a space tourist. He would not be the first to turn a blind eye to suffering, death or pain, out of fear that he might not be able to stop it - out of fear that he might have to see it, before he can. But he chooses to actively seek it out, and he chooses to involve himself, and he chooses to try to resolve these horrible, awful things, and if he did not love his life he would not be living it. The Doctor’s an adrenaline junkie. He loves this stuff. Sometimes he’s scared of himself because he doesn’t know where he’d be without the monsters under the bed and things that go bump in the night. Generally speaking, it is not really something that he thinks on too much; especially with distractions. He has to be able to bounce back from things. He bounces back from a lot.

Usually, the Doctor’s PTSD is limited, at best. Usually his PTSD manifests as nightmares (repeats of the Time War. He can’t do anything about these; they are so bad he jerks awake almost 90% of the time, and he has to sleep regularly because he can’t binge sleep anymore. If you catch him sleeping peacefully, don’t wake him unless you absolutely have to), self-blame, recklessness and self-destructive behaviour (in pursuit of an adrenaline high - he gets lower so the highs have to get higher, and what better way to stimulate that adrenaline than by recklessness?), and self imposed limits on relationships with and to the rest of the world. Among these, the only persistent symptom of PTSD that he can’t get rid of even at his healthiest, throughout his entire run, are the nightmares. The rest are examples of his behaviour when he’s left unchecked by the outside world, left to his own devices - when Rose leaves, he is reckless enough that he would have literally gotten himself killed had Donna not been there to stop him; when Donna leaves, he withdraws from reality and blames himself for people getting hurt to the extent he refuses to engage with anyone else, some self-imposed punishment; we even see him reckless not only with people’s lives, but with their deaths, when Captain Adelaide has to kill herself to protect the timeline (and he knows that’s what he’s forcing her into - blames himself for it: “I got worse… I got clever. Tricked people into taking their own.”). It manifests when there are not people to guide him away from it, to tell him that he is wrong; that it is not his fault, and he needs to stop pretending that it is. The Doctor’s friends are so deeply, genuinely good for him. He shines, with them on board. I don’t think any of them appreciate what they do for him quite as much as he does - I don’t think any of them really know it, because they have not seen him when they’re not around. It’s not a healthy way to live and he was working towards that conclusion himself, I think - the tenth Doctor, at least, was either going to get himself killed or he was going to have to decide that it was just time to start doing something differently, because this way of living? It was not working. I’ve written on this before - read it here.

(As a spoiler, he got himself killed.) The Doctor also likes to avoid certain reminders of his time in the Time War. He hates being called a soldier - he will directly tell people they are wrong. He does not touch guns; he hates guns. He hates how he issues orders in high-stress situations (he does it accidentally, and catches himself too late; it is so natural for him to drop into that, and it makes him feel sick) and he hates how people turn to him like he is the authority, no matter where he goes or what he does there. He hates perhaps most of all the way people look over and ask where he served, like there’s some camaraderie to be built out of war; like servicemen are meant to all befriend each other, communities of killers, because blood is thicker than water and they all have blood on their hands. Like there’s anything that comes out of a war besides corpses. PTSD is horrible. Worse, he is attached to it - the Doctor doesn’t want to forget. He doesn’t want to stop having those memories - he doesn’t want to stop remembering their last words, or what they looked like, or who they were. He is attached to the knowledge of who these people were, because he is the only one who remembers them - if he stops then nobody will know to mourn them, and their lives just won’t mean anything at all, just like that. He remembers names for a reason. They don’t vanish like people do. He doesn’t want to let go of that. Doesn’t want to let go of them. That he is feeling these things is proof that they mattered, and they did matter - so he will keep feeling them. If he can’t save them then he can do this for them, because he owes them something. He can’t just watch them die and move on, like they weren’t important. Everyone’s important. The Doctor won’t act like they aren’t, just for his own convenience. PTSD is horrible, and so is mourning millions of people, and your life, and your culture, and your planet. And not just that, but every other person you can’t save while you hasten along this life path you’ve picked out for yourself and actively continue to walk past the people who can’t or don’t keep up. There’s a lot to be said for what the Doctor copes with, and how desperate he can get to not let anything like that happen ever again. How desperate he can get in the right circumstances - how vibrantly he does not want to lose anyone else. He’s a brilliant man, and he deserves so much, and he ends up with nothing. He ends up alone. He ends up dying in his ship facing a boring blank wall and no stars and no life and no laughter and no love. He ends cold. He ends afraid. He ends, not finished yet. And he doesn’t end happy. God, I love this stupid man. He’s such an idiot. He could have been so much more. It’s not fair.

#doctor who #tenth doctor #about the doctor #headcanon #ingrid talks #pls note: I have posted this before but because tumblr is bad about rbing asks now #im posting it separately #ptsd cw

[sometimesrosy]

Did you ever see the B/E relationship coming, or did you find it a big surprise? I know we can only speculate, but in your opinion, what has been Bellamy’s mindset about E and C since finding out Clarke was alive? What do you think his mindset is about the situation/them throughout season 6, going into season 7? I feel like he will be very focused on O since the anomaly took her, but what’s a way you think the love triangle could be resolved? Or if it will be?

I’ll be honest, I saw the B/E relationship coming from the cages. Not that it WOULD happen, but that it could. I wrote fics where she was cast in a romantic capability. When s4 happened and she went to space with spacekru leaving Clarke behind, I thought yes b/e would probably happen, but it didn’t bother me because that was one way to tell a love story an the end result would still be bellarke endgame. THAT is why I put a moratorium on b/e questions for the whole hiatus, because I wasn’t freaking out about b/e possibilities and I didn’t care to freak out about it and fandom was FREAKING OUT ABOUT IT. And it’s healthy boundaries to not take on other people’s freak outs. 

You have to start with season 5 to understand this love triangle I think. Because the 6 years apart created a new relationship for Bellarke that was based not on reality, but on memory and fantasy. Clarke created Bellamy as a fantasy boyfriend that she could talk to and kept her sane. He was a hero who could do no wrong and would always be there for her.  Bellamy created something similar, but because he thought she was dead, she was more like a ghost haunting him, he was the widower and she was the dead wife that lived in his head with him and guided his actions. He never thought he could have her again, because she was dead, while SHE thought that when he came back, he would be hers for real. They both took about all of season 5a to reconcile to the fact that the other was real, and then that their fantasy of the other had to make room for the real person. 

I’m not gonna say I know how Bellamy felt about having clarke and echo alive, but I’m gonna say, since this is how the story and scenes shook out, that he couldn’t *mentally* embrace having both echo and clarke in the same place. He couldn’t think about them TOGETHER, because that was not something he had dealt with yet. That these two women he loved were now both in his life. His old life of the ring was the real one, but suddenly Clarke was there, too, and everything changed. This is how the scenes were shot. He focused on Clarke OR Echo, and when he was with Clarke and brought up Echo or his “family,” tensions arose as Clarke and he circled around each other with their new alliances. Octavia made him face it. And then we saw with him choosing the sword over the earth, he was thinking about it. The smart thing to do was choose Echo. Then why does Clarke keep coming back into his heart? Why does he even want to choose Clarke when he’s committed to Echo? And yet he does. And he’s not able to process that when Echo is around. (which might be why she all but disappears once he gets to the ship where Clarke is.)

Season 6 is different. Clarke and Bellamy have become real to each other again. She is part of Spacekru-- although not easily. Clarke, Echo and Bellamy are all in the same shots, constantly, same scenes, Clarke watches b/e together. Echo watches Bellamy give all his attention to Clarke. Bellamy is “together” with Echo, but his primary emotional attachment seems to be Clarke. And as s6A progresses, he is more and more drawn emotionally (and physically!) to Clarke, to the point where, after an intimate conversation with Clarke about forgiveness and family, he sees her with Cillian and is JEALOUS, and then picks a fight with Echo about how she isn’t open or intimate enough and basically calls her not human. Really rotten, Bellamy. And it hurts Echo because she’s dealing with her own issues he knows nothing about... which means Bellamy is right. She isn’t open or intimate enough with him. She is getting ready to face it, finally, starting with the eclipse psychosis which correctly identified her relationship with Bellamy to be king/spy. This is a theme for Echo. This is her storyline in s6. How to face her past and identity as a spy CREATED by her relationship with the ruler, and reconcile that with her relationship with Bellamy. For Bellamy, his storyline is facing his feelings for Clarke and understanding what they mean. The season starts with B/E as an acknowledged relationship, but as Clarke and Bellamy try to rebuild their relationship as “platonic” partners, their damn feelings for each other keep getting in the way of the platonic part. When he is jealous of Cillian and takes it out on Echo, who didn’t deserve it, and Echo bares her soul (part way) to him, and he commits to moving forward with her and forgetting about the past, which clearly means Clarke, that is Bellamy making the ‘logical’ decision, the head decisions. 

But when Clarke is discovered to be bodysnatched, all his intentions of being committed to intimacy with Echo are forgotten. He doesn’t turn to her. He pays no attention to her. All his attention is on Clarke, who he feels he’s lost. He cannot reconcile losing her with moving forward. And when he finds out she is alive, HE is alive again, focused only on getting her back, canonically caring more about saving Clarke than what is happening to Jordan, Madi, Echo or spacekru. His focus is, again, on Clarke. And heading into the woods with Clarke’s body/Josephine, as she digs and digs at him about his feelings for Clarke. OMG what a romantic narrative. Your enemy in the body of your great unacknowledged love forcing you to recognize how much you love this body she has stolen and this mind she is trying to erase. AND THEN YOU SAVE HER. Bellamy has FACED how much he cares for and needs Clarke. He is SOFT for her in a way that he has been soft with Echo, only moreso. He is ROMANTIC with her. 

When Bellamy and Echo reunite in Sanctum, after not knowing whether or not he had left her for dead, their reunion is relieved and loving, but not intimate or passionate-- as Bellarke’s reunion was when she was brought back from the dead. Clarke watches them hug, and actually interrupts their hug (which she’s never done before. in s5 when she saw them hugging she stepped back and mentally let him go, but this time she interrupts “platonically.” maybe jealously idk.) Bellamy, meanwhile, looks at Clarke over Echo’s shoulder. The way he’s dealing with Echo and Clarke in the same place has changed. And when Clarke and Bellamy reunite after the battle is all over, Echo, who is right there (we see her in some of the background shots) essentially disappears from Bellamy’s attention. Echo gets a pat on the back, while Clarke and he run to each other, fall into each other’s arms, he rocks her while she nuzzles him, they have direct eye contact and talk about deep feelings of self worth and intention and then hug again while the light is buttery and romantic. *sunflare* And this ends the season. 

When we get Octavia disappearing, Echo is back. Yes. And there is no intimacy. And when Bellamy loses Octavia, Echo is not there for emotional support, she is, as usual, the spy, taking care of capturing Hope while Bellamy’s world changes.

Going into s7, we have the final season, which means we’ll have to see a conclusion to all the loose narratives. There is, of course, the saving humanity storyline, from the apocalypse and from themselves, which would be a redemption. Salvation and Redemption are offered. That’s the larger over all story. BUT that story HANGS on the backbone of the story, which is, both evident in the narrative and STATED by JR, Bellarke and their relationship to each other. There is finding Octavia (which no doubt will lead to the major plot of the anomaly/salvation/redemption) There is Raven and her self worth. Murphy and his fear of dying alone. Echo and her identity as Ash, Clarke and her needing to be the good guy and Bellamy with his...

Ah. What’s Bellamy’s main struggle? It’s about saving the person he loves. (first O, then Clarke) No wait. It’s developed. I think it’s about LIVING with the person he loves. After saving comes living. As Murphy said, “We get everything we want. We get to live.” “Not Clarke,” Bellamy responds. “Not Clarke seems to be an answer to both ‘everything we want’ and ‘we get to live.’ although, no the right way to answer that last one is ‘clarke doesn’t.’ Bellamy is CHOOSING Clarke. It’s still an active storyline, he hasn’t chosen her yet, but he is actively doing so. Also, when seen in the light of Monty’s orders to not only be the good guys, but to live a good life as happy as he was, Bellamy’s Book 2 goal is the heart part of Monty’s statement. Live a life that is happy. He needs Clarke for that.

When I take these narrative threads, the knowledge that Bellarke is the center of the story, the understanding that their relationship MUST be resolved in order to offer a satisfying conclusion, and then I consider all the related character arcs, the only way it can fall out is like this: Clarke (who is in love with Bellamy) saves humanity and is willing to sacrifice her happiness to do it. Bellamy (who has accepted that he loves Clarke) saves Clarke and won’t let her sacrifice her happiness.  Screw that. He won’t let her leave him again. 

They’ll redeem humanity by being the good guys (Clarke’s goal) do it together (because unity is the only way it gets done, also head and heart have to be together,) and they will live the rest of their lives from a place of love (Bellamy’s goal.) Raven and Murphy I’m not 100% sure on, but Echo needs to face Ash, to BE Ash, and that means she has to reject the king/spy dynamic and therefore NOT be with Bellamy. It’s not about Clarke at all, it’s about her. Which means that Bellamy will be able to stop sacrificing his love for his commitment to be the good guy with Echo. And Clarke and Bellamy will be the winning angle of the love triangle. 

HOW? IDK. Yes. They’ll deal with missing Octavia, but he’s let her go. She doesn’t run his life anymore. And besides, Clarke has ALWAYS been the person who understands the blakes the best. He will go to her for help on that, emotionally, even if Echo is the lieutenant in battle. Also, my guess is they’ll get O back either in 7a, or in the first few eps of s7. The real battle is going to be what happens after. 

The love triangle will DEFINITELY be resolved. This story REQUIRES Clarke and Bellamy to be together. It’s their “thing.” But also the head and the heart is part of a system that doesn’t work without each other. During their time apart, they each found a way to carry the other with them, Clarke with her fantasies and Bellamy with his internalizing her voice. But now they get to BE together, and choose each other, and work and live and love TOGETHER. 

After hakeldama, I realized that this story HAD to have them getting together. And they held off on the romantic togetherness for most of the show, but as we get closer to the end, s5 and s6 have brought the romantic nature of Bellarke out of hiding. So yes. The culmination of the Bellarke story will, finally, be romantic. Not just together “platonically” but as true loves. In all the ways.

#the 100 #bellarke #c/b/e #the blakes #series finale

[killiansprincss]

Never Forget You Ch.10

Summary: Season 6A Canon Divergence.

Emma is happy. Finally happy with her parents, son and boyfriend. But this happiness is taken away from her when the Evil Queen curses her and turns her into a toddler.

Heartbroken and angry, Killian and Henry run away to Neverland to wait for Emma to break her curse. But when she does break it and comes looking for them 25 years later, she soon realises this Neverland is very different now it is no longer under Pans rule.

Will she be able to save Henry and Killian in time, or will this new ruler of Neverland keep them hostage forever?

Also on A03

CHAPTER TEN

Henry Mills was sick of Neverland. He wants to go home more than anything. So when Killian said he wanted to meet him, and then Emma somehow magically contacted him, all the pieces just fell into place.

And now Killian Jones was standing just a few feet away from Emma Swan and the entire Charming family for the first time in 25 years.

“Swan”

“Killian!”

Killian takes a look at Emma and the little brother he had met a few hours ago.

Emma looks the same as she did before she was cursed. A little more polished and not a strong lost girl in her eyes anymore. But it was still his Emma. Then he looks to David and Snow, who look a lot more mature than he remembered them.

“David. Lady Snow. Dave, you look..” Killian begins.

“If you say old, I will cut off your other hand.” David cuts him off leaving a smile on Killians face.

“It’s good to see you.” He settles on saying, still in awe that they were all here.

“Uncle Neal, come upstairs with me, I wanna hear about the uncle I never got to know” Henry says sensing the tension between his mother and Killian, gesturing for his grandparents to follow to leave the two alone.

“Swan. It's really you?” Kilian asks, still scared it’s some cruel trick.

Emma nods, trying to stop herself from tearing up. “It’s me. I’m really here.”

“You have no idea how long I have been waiting for this day.” Emma thinks he’s going to come over and kiss her, or wrap his arms around her. But he doesn't.

“Killian. I missed you so much.” Emma tells him, taking a few steps closer.

Killian takes a step back. “I can’t. This. I thought it would just be Henry. I didn't expect to see you here.”

Emma understands he’s hurt and confused, but that doesn’t mean seeing him back away from her hurts her any less.

“Henry told me everything. I know about the fairies and why it’s hard to leave the island. But we can figure it out together. Like we always do.” She tells him, slowly taking a step towards him. “We took down the Snow Queen together, we defeated Pan together, and we defeated our darkness together. Hell we even went back in time and made sure my parents met each other, we did all that together! And now, I’m here and we will do whatever it takes to take down that fairy bitch and go home. Have the future we always planned.”

She takes another step towards him and takes his handed hook in hers. They were so close they could hear each other's heartbeats.

“Killian I missed you so much.” Emma tells him, wanting nothing more than to feel the taste of his lips on hers.

“Swan. My years on this blasted Island have been the worst years of my life. But I can’t go back with you. If you take the boy, you’ll stand a chance of escaping. It’s not in my fate that I return.” Killian says despite how much it hurts.

Emma just shakes her head. “No. I can’t accept that. There is no way I am leaving this Island without you. To hell with what you think about fate, I know that is not what fate has in store for us. Zeus brought you back for a reason, okay. He would not have brought you back just so you can be in the place that makes you feel like you’re the worst person in the world.”

Killian can barely look at Emma. “You wouldn’t want me anyways. After all I’ve done. I’m not the man you deserve.”

Emma wants to laugh, “Are you being serious right now? After all we’ve been through? I made you a Dark One because I didn’t want to risk the possibility of losing you. I did lose you, twice! I came down to the Underworld to save you! And then I lost you, and that broke me. I didn’t know how I was going to survive without you, but then by a literal miracle, you came back to me! And then we were slowly planning our future together. And then I was cursed. I understand how you feel, but think about how I feel. I woke up one day with two lives in my head, not like my parents; their lives were mostly based on false memories.”

Emma takes another step towards Killian who tried to walk away. “I was having visions for years. I kept seeing this tall dark haired stranger with blue eyes. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was seeing you. I saw our moments together. I saw you because you’re my soulmate Killian my true love. If you don’t want to come back to Storybrooke with me, then that’s on you. Not me.”

“I need some air.” She says as Killian doesn't respond and goes outside.

_______________

“You doing okay kiddo?”

Emma looks up to see her father coming down the ladder, plopping himself onto the ground beside her.

“Let me guess, you heard our argument?” She asks, slightly embarrassed.

David chuckles, “walls in Neverland aren’t exactly thick like in Storybrooke. You want to talk about it?”

“What was it like?” She asks, “when you woke up from your curse? When you realised you had 2 lives in your head.”  

“Well I can’t say I know what you’re going through seeing as I was in a coma for 28 years til you finally showed up.” He says causing them both to chuckle. “But I think I know where you’re coming from, I remember you telling Alex a few times that you were seeing your soulmate in your dreams, I assumed it was Hook you were seeing. It’s like when I was cursed, I knew I was married to Kathryn and we had a life together, but anytime I saw your mother I saw visions of her, of us, in the Enchanted Forest, and I didn’t know what I was seeing, but I knew it meant something, which is why I kept going after her. Though I remember you trying to stop me!”

“Hey don’t blame me! You sent me through the wardrobe, how was I supposed to know my 10 year old sons fantasies about you two being my parents was real!” Emma says laughing. This was exactly what her father did, he would make her laugh to forget about her problems. “But did you feel bad, at all? About the things you said and did when you were cursed, how did you manage it?”

“Ah so this is what it’s about. You feel guilty that you grew up loved with your brother, whilst Killian and Henry suffered.” David says stroking his daughters hair, the way he always did to calm her down in the past.

“Yeah that and also I don’t know how to deal with these two lives. It’s not like when me and Henry were in New York, those were all false memories. I was an orphan, I know I remember that, but then I also remember my life where you raised me and I was surrounded by love.” Emma was feeling so lost since waking up, and she didn’t exactly know what the plan now was.

“Well, I know that after we broke the curse, I went to Kathryn and she felt the same, guilt over something we couldn’t control. But with you, you were in control of your life with us, you made friends and bonds on your own, you need to realise that your friendship with Alex and Phillip, that is still real. But Henry and Killian are also real, they didn’t forget you. It’s been a traumatic 25 years for them, give it time and we can figure out a plan on how to defeat the fairies of this realm.”

“And what do I do about Killian?” She finally asks.

“Give him space. He knows how much he loves you, it’s clearly been hard on him. True Love never fails, always remember that.” He whispers, and Emma knows he’s right. Love always wins.

_____________

Henry was eager to get home to Storybrooke, but he was aware 25 years had passed since he was last there and wanted to know how it had changed, and if it was finally safe.

“Wait so you and my mom have matching scars because of a sword fight?” Henry asks his uncle, fascinated to know all about him.

Neal nods, “oh yeah, mom and dad were not happy. I accidentally cut her first and she started bleeding, so she begged me to let her cut me so we’d be matching and they’d be less likely to be angry.”

Henry’s smile is animated, he loved hearing stories like this. “We’re they less angry?”

Neal looks to his mother. “No. I believe you were both grounded for 2 weeks, and swords were locked up. Though I believe your grandpa, Henry gave in and gave them sword fighting lessons whilst I was at work.”

Henry smiles, he remembers when his grandpa gave him lessons, and Killian too. “Awesome! Now I’ve got a cool uncle to teach me how to sword fight too!”

“What else do you want to know? I’m enjoying getting to know the nephew I had no idea I had!” Neal asks. He was similar to Henry in the way he just accepted the fact he had a nephew and was eager to learn all there was about him.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Henry asks.

Neal does a silent chuckle, of course this is what he wanted to know. “I do. Her name is Thalia, I’ve known her since I was younger and we were rivals during High School, we hated each other, but it was after we’d graduated we realised maybe we don’t hate one another.”

“Sounds like my Mom and Killian.” Henry says looking down at them arguing. They’ll resolve whatever issue they have going on soon enough, they would never stay mad long.

“I’ll tell you about Thalia, if you tell me about Killian-he’s so cool!” Neal whispers to his nephew.

Henry grins. “Deal.

*****

“Thalia Cameron , you’re late .” Mrs. Groves, their History of the Enchanted Forest teacher, said as she saw Thalia tried to sneak in at the back of the class.

Thalia sighs. “I’m so sorry Mrs.Groves, I was working the breakfast shift at Granny’s and I lost track of time. It won’t happen again.”

Mrs. Groves walks over to her desk and hands her back her paper. “Maybe you should be focusing on your studies instead of your work. I expected better of you.”

Thalia rolls her eyes and turns her paper over. 67 out of 100. That was her worst score in a while. She wanted to do well in this class, she loved learning about where she came from and how Storybrooke was never meant to exist-but unlike most of the other kids in this class, her father didn’t have the greatest respect for Storybrooke or the Enchanted Forest.

“Hey don’t worry about it, she’s in a bad mood today. And that quiz was so hard, I only got a 73.” Neal Nolan whispers to her.

“Thanks Charming.” She smiles back.

God dammit Neal Nolan. Son of the Charmings, son of the family her father hates most.

Thalia’s father was a knight of King George, who was in charge of finding Prince James’, David, or Prince Charming as his kingdom came to call him. Thalia's father swore his allegiance to King George, and therefore hated the shepherd in disguise. Growing up she was taught to hate his family.

She was raised by her father and never knew her mother. All she knew was that her father was married to a woman in his cursed life, and when time started to move again but their memories had not returned, her mother fell pregnant. But then the curse broke and her mother abandoned her father and went back to her real husband. Thalia was born in the Enchanted Forest and when everyone was cursed again, baby Thalia turned up on her father's doorstep and was told it was his problem.  

Thalia's father hated what this curse had given him, and so he raised Thalia but he didn’t love her. Thalia was a reminder that he was much happier cursed, at least he had someone who loved him.

That evening Thalia was working at Granny’s again, a double shift. She wanted to work so she could save enough money and move out when she graduated High School. She loved this town, despite her father, and loved its quirks and magical mishaps.

Although she groans when she sees the Charming Family on table 7, her section. She better get good tips.

“Hi guys, what can I get for you?” She asks as she approaches their booth.

She can see Neal grinning as she takes out her notepad.

“What specials do you have?”  He asks with a cocky smile.

Thalia rolls her eyes.

“Don’t be a dick Neal, she’s just trying to work.” Emma, his sister tells him, causing him to roll his eyes.

She liked Emma, she was always really nice when she served her, she was so different from her brother.

“2 cheeseburgers, 2 grilled cheese with 2 potions of onion rings and 2 portions of fries please Thalia.” David, the prince tells her. Despite what her father told her growing up, he didn’t seem all that bad.

As she’s clearing up their table, Neal lingers. “You know I can lend you my Enchanted Forest History notes if you like.”

She looks perplexed. “What’s the catch Charming?”

Neal shrugs, “no catch. Just thought you’d need them, if you’re working here a lot and you’re getting good grades again it’ll get Mrs. Groves off your back. And then we can go back to competing on who can get the highest mark.”

Thalia smiles, “thanks, that would be great. And don’t worry I’ll be sure to whoop your ass on the next quiz.”

——

Neal's biggest regret was not having the courage to ask Thalia to Prom. They had always been rivals, but their senior year was different, they were being nice to each other and Neal hated to admit but he thinks he has feelings for her.

He ended up going alone, Robin took Alex of course and he decided he didn’t really want to go with some random girl he didn’t know that well.

“Hey Charming, couldn’t get a date?” It was Thalia. She looked beautiful in a crimson red dress and her brown hair tied up.

“No, I had a line of girls ask me and I had to turn them down.” He replies causing Thalia to roll her eyes.

“I’m gonna regret this, but do you want to dance?” She asks, Neal is as shocked as anything. “I shouldn’t mock you, I don’t have a date either. I was holding out for this one guy but he never asked.”

Neal kicked himself for not realising until years later she meant him. “I’d love to. Just don’t step on my toes” he teased

So Thalia took her hand and laced it with Neal's as they stepped onto the dance floor. The song was slow, so she wrapped her arms around Neal’s neck as they slowly moved to the rhythm.

“Wow you’re actually pretty good at this.” Thalia comments as their bodies are pressed close together as they dance.

“Well I am a prince, it’s expected of me.” Neal teases.

“God you never let that go, do you Charming?” Thalia teases back.

Neither know what happened next, except all of a sudden their lips were on each other. It’s like they’ve been waiting for this moment all their life, maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe they’ve been avoiding their feelings for a while. But it feels right.

Thalia breaks the kiss. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Neal, still flustered, just says, “it’s fine. I-I liked it.”

Whatever he said or did, it wasn’t right, and Thalia ran off and he didn’t see her for the rest of the night .

___

“Wait you’re telling me you kissed her at Prom and then you didn’t go after her? And yet you’re still together?” Henry asks after Neal had finished telling his story.

Neal laughs, “it was pretty complicated. We were kinda stubborn and wouldn’t admit that we actually liked each other. It was only when she was moving out of her father's home that I had the guts to talk to her about that night and asked her out for real.”

It was actually Neal that managed to get her out of her house. When he saw her in Granny’s and her makeup didn’t quite cover the shiner and bruised lip her father so clearly had given to her, he made her come to Emma’s house for a couple nights until they managed to find her an apartment. But Thalia’s abusive shitbag of a father was her story to tell.

“Stubbornness is a Charming family trait, you and your sister get it from your father.” Snow comments. “Let’s hope you haven’t inherited it Henry.”

“I can’t wait to hear more!” Henry smiles.

“There’s plenty where that came from, now I want to hear about my pirate brother in law!” Neal says

And so Henry launches into one of he and Hook's adventures, when they save Emma from the alternate reality.

#never forget you #cs ff #Cs fanfic #Captain swan #my writing #cs fic rec

[paintedwithapalette]

So, I got back this absolutely amazing commission from @pun-riii​ to fit with a scene from chapter 11 of my Memories of You fanfic! So, here it is. Hope you all enjoy! 

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

Memories of You: The Balcony  

Word Count: 2, 592

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

Roxas figured some fresh air would do him some good and he returned to the balcony Paine dragged him to earlier, resting his arms against the white wooden railing. With his mind finally clear, he was able to admire the stars speckling against a dark midnight blue backdrop. His mother always taught him about the existence of another side where hearts go after they pass on from the land of the living. The idea was appealing as a child but as he grew older, he began to question it. Did an afterlife truly exist? Was there a chance his father was looking down at them with a proud smile? He didn't have anything to go off of other than his mother's word that he would understand someday, but it was beginning to feel like a fairy tale designed to keep traumatized children from succumbing to despair. 

Roxas dug into his pocket and salvaged the balled up card Rufus originally gave him earlier. After wrinkling his eyebrows, he ripped the card into two and carelessly tossed the severed pieces into the air, watching the evening breeze carry it through the night.

"Roxas?"

Naminé stood by the door frame behind him with her head giving a slight tilt. She was still wearing those ridiculous shades. 

"Sorry," Roxas apologized, putting on a friendlier demeanor. "I just needed some air. I should have told you."

Naminé leaned against the railing along with him. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine. Just needed some time to think."

"About what?"

"About what I'm going to do with my life," Roxas answered rather quickly. "About where I belong or what I'm supposed to do. I've had all this pressure and expectations put on me and I'm not sure how to handle it."

"Sounds pretty deep. For you, anyway."

"Thank—hey, wait. What do you mean, for me?"

Naminé let out a delicate giggle into her closed fist. She could see his smile through the tint of her sunglasses. His company was always so pleasant. She couldn’t remember the last time she could bear being in the same room with another soul outside of her immediate family for more than five minutes without feeling a crippling urge to drop dead on the spot. To think that she nearly wouldn’t have experienced this moment with him if it hadn't been for her father dragging her to this surprisingly eventful dinner party in the first place. The thought brought a frown to her lips. 

Roxas didn’t fail to notice it. "What's wrong?" 

"I... have a confession to make." 

He crossed his arms. "What is it? You can tell me."

"I, um... I didn't really come here because I wanted to," she painfully admitted. "Not at first, anyway. I mean, I'm glad I came because it turned out to be really fun, but... I was originally planning on not showing up, even after Kairi tried talking me into it. I’m only here because my dad forced me to come because I guess he wants to keep an eye on me." She lowered her head in shame. "I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?"

"Aren't you mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad?" Roxas asked with an airy chuckle. 

Finding his reaction unexpected, Naminé blinked. "Well, I'm not here because it was my decision, like you said it should be. I-I mean... it's not like I came because I'm a good friend or because I'm making a real effort to come out of my shell. I didn't have a choice in the first place, and if I did, it wouldn't have resulted in me being here with you right now.” 

"But you are here. That's what matters in the end, right?"

"But I—"

"Listen," Roxas interrupted gently. "Whether you wanted to come or not, you still did. You still went through the trouble of finding something to wear. You still walked through those doors. You even let me introduce you to my friends. You didn't have to do any of that, but you did. That has to count for something." He smiled. "Whether you realize it or not, you're trying. That's all that matters to me."

Naminé felt her lips part momentarily before turning her head to downplay the shy smile growing against her own will. "You're so mushy."

Roxas chuckled. "Yeah, I’ve heard it from Xion more than once."

Naminé still couldn’t inwardly deny a fragment of guilt lingering in the back of her mind. She wished she had the resolve to face her fears and take the initiative in the first place without her father’s demands being the main catalyst for her attendance. If anything, she could do it for Roxas. In the short amount of time they’ve known each other, he’s been such a good friend to her. Naminé tried to convince herself that taking this step was for her own sake, but she wanted to take his feelings into account as well. Seeing that look of the purest form of joy glowing in his eyes when he first saw her earlier that evening was something she was glad she didn't miss out on. She promised herself she would make it up to him, even if he didn't feel like she needed to. For their next outing, and yes, there would be a next, she would go of her own volition. Not because anyone told her to go. But because he was her friend and he deserved it.

"You’re sweet, Roxas."

Roxas couldn’t tear his eyes away from her smile. And oh, what a pretty smile it was. It would only be prettier if he could see the eyes designed to complement it. "Naminé, why are you still wearing those?"

Her smile faltered. "I told you before—I can't handle eye contact."

"Not even right now?" he asked, closing the small distance between them. "Not even with me?"

Naminé pressed her lips together. There was something about wearing the shades that made her feel more secure. It made her interactions with others more impersonal. "What difference would it make?"

"More than you might think.” Roxas scratched his cheek. “I just kinda want to see you. Those shades make me feel like there's a wall between us. You shouldn't have to hide behind these. You don't need them."

"B-But I do," she argued. "I get so nervous when people look at me, like if I'm looking at their eyes in the wrong way or they get the wrong idea or if I'm staring at people for an uncomfortable amount of time, people don't have to know what I'm looking at and—and—"

"Naminé," Roxas said, effectively cutting her rambling short as he placed his hands on her shoulders. "Trust me."

Naminé felt her lips quivering before she let out a deep sigh. She knew she was making excuses. He was right. It shouldn't have been a big deal. Besides, it was Roxas. She didn't have much trouble looking him in the eyes anymore. As long as it was someone like him or Kairi, she could live with it.

"So, is it okay if I take these off?" he asked.

Naminé nodded reluctantly. Roxas held the sides of her sunglasses and pulled them from her ears tenderly. Her eyes fluttered open; soft blue with the stars ornamenting sparkles into their reflection. It was the first time he saw her eyes the entire night and the first word that came to his mind was... 

Breathtaking.

In the corners of his mind, Roxas always found Naminé attractive even when he first laid eyes on her. But this was the first time he had seen her dolled up, her soft features highlighted to near perfection. His eyes trailed to her lips that were parted slightly—he gulped. He had a dangerous, crazy thought involving his own lips he would not allow himself to act on. Quite frankly, he wasn't sure where it came from, but he blamed it on his dumb teenage boy hormones. Roxas cleared his throat before she could get nervous at his staring.

"See? You don't need these," he said, placing the sunglasses into his back pocket. 

Despite his encouragement, Naminé couldn’t resist the urge to squirm under his gaze. Sure, she had looked him in his eyes before, but not under a circumstance like this. With her eyes exposed, it brought about a sense of vulnerability she wasn’t accustomed to. If eyes truly were windows to the soul, then Roxas was getting a peak at hers. Just the thought of that made her rip her eyes away from his. What if he didn’t like what he saw? 

"Hey, Naminé..." Roxas said softly. The way her name rolled off his lips was starting to make Naminé weak in the knees.

"Y-Yes?"

However, any potential butterflies in her stomach fueled by anticipation were thrown out the window with his next words.

"Staring contest!"

"H-Huh?!"

Roxas grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to look up at him. Her wide, confused eyes were locked with his intense, focused ones. Neither moved for a solid five minutes. Or at least, Naminé felt like it was five minutes. Despite not knowing what was going on or where this came from, she suddenly caught wind of the competitive bug and didn’t want to lose. She returned his stare with an equal amount of intensity, refusing to back down from his challenge. A third spectator might have thought they were furious at each other.

The contest proved difficult for Naminé. Roxas wouldn't budge, not even so much as a wince. She felt her eyes threatening to leak and clenched her teeth after what felt like an eternity of staring. But she couldn't lose. She wanted another excuse to rub something in his face.

Then he blew into her eyes, practically forcing her into a rapid sequence of blinks. 

"I win!"

Naminé continued to blink if only to moisturize her dried up eyes while Roxas laughed at her expense. It was bad enough she was wearing contacts. Did he really need to blow into them? "You cheater!"

"I never said you couldn't sabotage your opponent," Roxas said cheekily.

"Wow. Thanks for letting me know, jerk."

"But hey, you see? Eye contact isn't so bad."

“Okay, but there's a difference between managing eye contact and an actual staring contest."

But for some reason, it did help. She was making eye contact with him without an issue. It was easier when there was something so silly and weird to break the ice. That must have been his plan the whole time. The rascal. 

“Still, it’s not like I can just walk up to a stranger and force them into a random staring contest if I want to break the ice,” Naminé challenged. 

“Hey, you never know.” Roxas shrugged, making Naminé send an unconvinced gaze. “Kidding. It’ll get easier with time, though,” he assured. “Maybe with some practice.” 

She sighed. "That's what they always say. It just stinks when practice involves putting yourself into situations you're not comfortable with."

“Well, are you comfortable now?” 

Naminé replaced her frown with a soft smile. “Well, sure. I’m with you, aren’t I?” 

“Then that’s good enough.” 

They descended into a gentle silence, their eyes bound to the night sky. Naminé came to an epiphany. Their conversation dwindled and somehow it wasn’t awkward in the slightest. What madness was this? Weren’t long pauses supposed to be uncomfortable and inelegant? Was there not an unspoken expectation to fill the silence and alleviate the tension on both sides? Yet there she was in the company of another human being partaking in a peaceful lull that made her feel the furthest thing from tense. In fact she felt, dare she say, relaxed? 

The pleasant scenery surely helped. While far from turbulent, Destiny Islands was noticeably more animated during the daytime. But the night allowed for the evening lanterns to come alive and highlight the town’s fine points with its tropical aesthetic. The darkened sea engulfed the majority of the horizon and in the short distance sat a tiny island Naminé had never been to before. The sight had to be out of a fairy tale novel. 

"This place really is beautiful," Naminé said, filling the silence as she clasped her hands together. Not because she was uncomfortable. Just because she felt like it.

"It is," Roxas agreed, leaning on the railing while turning to face her with a grin. 

Though, the sky wasn’t the only thing he found alluring that night. Naminé truly was more beautiful than even he had anticipated. Something about the way her eyes captured a soft volume of contentment tugged at something inside him. The way her hair was tied up in a bun with loose strands framing her porcelain face. The way her dress highlighted her slender figure that wasn't without subtle but very visible curves. She was always cute, but this was different.

Should he have admitted his attraction to her? It wasn't always easy to predict how Naminé would react to things. Everything seemed to have a half-and-half probability. With a compliment, he could see her taking the praise and thinking nothing of it just as much as he could see her rejecting his opinion and finding it too overwhelming and embarrassing to be true. But transparency was something Naminé needed to become more acquainted with. 

There was also the implication. Would she perceive it as some sort of confession? Roxas wasn't sure if he viewed Naminé in that way. Did he really like Naminé in the way Axel suggested? He sincerely didn't think so before, but now—having her there, to see her trying to put in more of an effort, and the fact that her inner and external beauty was becoming more evident...

He wasn't sure.

"Is everything okay?" Naminé asked, her voice returning him to the present.

"Oh, yeah," Roxas said, mulling on his next words. "It's just—I think you look really beautiful tonight. I, uh... thought I'd let you know."

While the blush was imminent, she took it better than he expected. She didn't flail her arms around like a manic and she didn't have a nervous breakdown. She only stared at him in momentary surprise before the ends of her lips offered him the slightest of curls. "Th-Thank you, Roxas." She gulped. "I-I was... thinking the same thing about you."

He raised a brow. "That I look beautiful? I mean, I'm flattered and all, but—"

"No, goofball," she said, replacing her smile with a pout. He was just trying to pull the proper words out of her and she knew it. "You l-look... good.” 

“Good?” 

“Um... h-h-handsome?" That was the correct word, right?

Roxas snickered. He could never get tired of watching her twist and turn with discomfort. "Just tell me you love me already, why don't you?"

"I take it back..."

"Oh, come on! I'm joking."

"Can't you go five seconds without teasing me?"

"What kind of a question is that? I can't even go three seconds."

"There's something we agree on."

"Fine," Roxas groaned. "I'll take you out for mint chocolate chip ice cream to make up for it, Ms. Killjoy. Take a joke, would you?"

"I most certainly can take a joke! Excuse me for thinking we were having a moment."

“So, you were wanting us to have a moment?” 

“Th-That’s not the point!” 

“Except it totally is.” 

“Shut up.” 

While they bantered, Xion, who was about to go check on Roxas herself, stood around the corner listening to the echoes of their laughter. 

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