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#i did not finish my essay and it is now 2 am
gar-trek · 2 years
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take a chance on me!
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figofswords · 3 months
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anybody remember the stephanie brown essay I was working on under a research grant fully last summer? yeah it’s not done yet it super needs to be done and I’ve been avoiding working on it for weeks. someone tell me to just do it already
#the problem is. actually there are several problems#1) I’ve been out of the Batman/dc comics phase for almost a year so I don’t care that much about the topic#2) I am fifteen pages in and have not touched it in months so I’ve completely lost my train of thought#3) I can’t just reread it because I hate first five pages or so and I know I need to change it but I was trying to finish before editing#so now my only solution is I need to open up a new doc and completely restructure the whole thing by splicing together the existing writing#so that I can figure out where the hell im going with this and make sure things fit together better#unfortunately that sounds fucking exhausting#but I told my mentor I would have an update for him by the end of the week and. well. it’s the end of the week#I have to present it in April. I have to write and submit an abstract in March#the school gave me $1500 for this stupid essay and if I don’t have anything to show for myself.#well. I don’t know they can’t take the money BACK but it’s not a good look#and also I would feel bad#I did the research!!! i interviewed comic writers even!!! I just haven’t finished WRITING IT DOWN#and I KNOOOOWW once I get started it’ll be fine once I’m going I’m going#but STARTING is hard because I feel like I have to finish it in one go which makes it so huge and daunting#I’m like. slamming my head into a wall. just write a couple sentences Jess something is better than nothing#just start it you don’t have to finish just START just MAKE the new DOC#I know!!!!! that is what my therapist would say!!!! Jess you’re trying to oneshot it bc of your dumb adhd brain!!!!#stop looking at it like that and making it scarier!!!#but even tho I know that logically I’m still like oh I should put away the dishes o should make bread#I should work on my six different art pieces I should do laundry i should play with the puppy I should go for a walk I sh
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cataclysmic-cathexis · 7 months
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Can we take it... slow?
Because I am once again completely normal about a piece of media, here is a visual essay on You Wear Fine Things Well Take 2: Faces and What Those Faces Are Doing (It's Kissing, But Also Emotions)
(I lightened all these screenshots up so the faces are more visible)
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Ed is telling Stede his very sweet fishing story. Stede is reacting totally appropriately - gasping, eyes wide, interested and adorable. He's genuinely loving spending this time with Ed, hearing about his day.
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He even leans forward to examine the lil fishy. CUTE. He's just so happy to be here, with Ed, talking about their days, spending time together. ("I love being near you.")
Stede tells Ed his abbreviated "cursed suit" story, where Ed delivers the "that wasn't a long story at all" line deadpan with this hilarious face:
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(Why is this face so funny? Scientists in the future may know, but alas, this mystery will not be answered within our lifetime.)
Ed then ups the ante - going from that hilarious face to this SCORCHING HOT ONE after uttering the line that ruined the life of everyone on this hellsite
You wear fine things well
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Those big brown 'come hither' eyes are HITHERING (it's a word, don't Google it tho)
What I also like about the refrain of "you wear fine things well" - Ed is signaling to Stede that he is ready to take another step. In the last episode, Ed put down a firm boundary - "you don't get to say that to me." Stede, in his adorable, desperate, determined, stubborn yet respectful way, backed off (by delivering an arguably MORE romantic speech but whatever - he respected Ed's boundary and didn't say "I love you"). Ed is pulling from their shared history, from a beautiful moment where they both felt something (although it's arguable as to whether or not in the moment Stede actually knew what he was feeling - he certainly with hindsight was like OOOOOOOOHHH).
So Ed is giving Stede the ok to take a step forward - which he does, while making this face with is the human equivalent of the heart eyes emoji:
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Stede then looks away - and he stays in place, letting Ed come to him, making sure it's Ed to initiate. I think Stede wants Ed to be sure, doesn't want to push, since he knows how badly he fucked up and knows how deep Ed's hurt is.
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Stede looks back up, but stays in place. Ed is looking at him with such vulnerability...
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..as he slowly does his adorable little teenager-about-to-have-their-first-kiss shuffle...
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And he leans in for that sweet kiss under the waxing moon.
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Initially it's just Ed who is leaning in, but then Stede leans into the kiss as well - and deepens it.
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Ed is then like "ok weird for ME to be the one saying this but it's probably healthier if we don't skip straight to banging each other's brains out on the deck of the ship and like, make sure of our feelings first"
After Ed says "We're whim-prone, as you said," Stede goes through a little mini crisis. First, fuck why did I say that:
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Then - before Ed can finish what he's saying, Stede's face falls. He's so worried he's messed this up. Ed gave him a kiss and he tried to go too fast, and he's getting rejected again.
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He tries to put a brave face on it, but our lil guy is SO SAD
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Then once Ed finishes his fish metaphor ("You can't catch a fish unless the fish wants to be caught") Stede realises that Ed isn't rejecting him. I think Ed's vulnerability here and how unsure he is ("we're the fish, I guess. Maybe. I think.") helps Stede to remember hey, this isn't about me and my stuff right now, this is about Ed and Ed's stuff.
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Stede gains a little confidence back. He's reassured. Ed is still trying to figure out who he is without Blackbeard, and Stede gets it. And Ed still wants him to be a part of who the new Ed is ("we're the fish"). He's like ok, I got u babe.
So he pulls himself back, but he still wants Ed to feel his affection, and to know that Ed is loved. So he holds Ed's hand and asks for permission.
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"What about this? Is this alright?"
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"This? Perfect."
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Then they have their adorable little hand moment - just happy that they understand one another, happy to be touching, happy to be together.
"You won." Stede whispers.
Ed looks away, beaming:
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And, in contrast to the last time they stood on the deck, under the moon, and said "you wear fine things well", this time they walk off together.
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FIN.
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ikissjae · 1 year
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PAIRING … jung jaehyun x female!reader
THEMES … college!au. angst! lot more angst in this one. smut.
LENGTH … 7.7k.
WARNINGS … thigh riding. dry humping. virgin!reader and fuckboy jaehyun. cheating. please let me know if i missed something! MINORS DNI.
NOTES … i wrote this fic literally years ago as a someone i don't acknowledge anymore fic lol! this is a prequel to "During the Fall" and a continuation of "The Start of Spiring" which I will link in the source link below! hope yall enjoy! rbs, comments, and asks are always appreciated ♡
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ㅤㅤㅤ© ikissjae 2023. translating and/or reposting is not allowed.
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Jaehyun: hey
Jaehyun: are you up?
You looked up from the patronizing word document to see the texts lighting up your phone. You rubbed your eyes a little before grabbing the device, blinking a few times at the bright screen. Of course, you were up, you had an essay due before 5:30 AM and here you were at 2 AM struggling with a conclusion. You leaned back against your headboard scrolling through the texts you had previously shared with Jaehyun, a smile appearing on your lips when you saw the blurry photos of him from the party where you two met.
You haven’t seen Jaehyun since that party, so almost a month now, which you didn’t mind. He’d text you at least once a week, and he’d send you cute selfies on Snapchat, so he did keep his promise. He didn’t forget you. That’s all you really wanted from him. You could tell he wasn’t the ‘relationship’ type if you were being honest neither were you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want a relationship it’s more like you have these weird commitment issues, you would rather be alone forever than have your heart broken. Weird, yes, but it was safe, you liked being safe.
You: yah i’m up
You: why are you even up go to sleep big head
Jaehyun: my head isn’t even big ://
Jaehyun: i miss you i wanna see you
You stared at your phone, brows furrowed as your eyes glanced up at the time then back at the bubbles sighing quietly. You never had a boy in your apartment after ten, except that one time when you and Doyoung were cramming for finals last semester, and who knew what Jaehyun had on his mind at 2 AM. You sighed quietly reading the message for what felt like the tenth time before slowly typing out your response.
You: i mean…if you really miss me….you can come over
Jaehyun: ……..are you sure
You: come over before i change my mind loser
Jaehyun: alright alright i’ll be over in ten minutes
You felt your stomach twist at the last message but there was an unexplainable excited smile on your lips. Your eyes landed back on your almost-finished essay, you knew you should just throw together a pathetic conclusion and turn it in, but you couldn’t even focus on that. Jaehyun was coming over to your apartment. You were gonna see him again.
You were back and forth from typing a mindless conclusion to staring at the door for the past ten minutes. You managed to finish your essay, it was shitty but it was finished, you were now staring at your now screen sighing quietly looking back up at the door waiting impatiently with a quiet sigh.
It wasn’t that you wanted Jaehyun here, you were bored with nothing to do, Jaehyun was going to be something to do. Suddenly, there were a series of rhythmic knocks.
You squeaked excitedly, jumping up off the bed with an equally excited smile practically skipping to the door. You hated how excited you were to see him, you shouldn’t be this excited to see a boy who wasn’t even your boyfriend, but you were practically bouncing to open the door.
When you opened the door you were greeted with the beautiful sight of Jung Jaehyun wearing a large black hoodie with matching black sweatpants, his hood was up but you could see his highlighted hair falling on his forehead, he looked cozy and welcoming. He made your heart stutter a little bit, you couldn’t help but giggle softly up at him which made him smirk down at you.
“So that’s what you look like without fake eyelashes.” He teased tapping your nose sweetly with a deep chuckle. You scrunched your face up before you realize you were sporting a bare face, your hair was in its natural waves, and you were wearing some baggy sweatshirt. You probably look like a different person than the one he met at the party, a softer more comfy version, you were wishing you at least put on some concealer while you were wasting time staring at the door.
“Shut up.” 
You giggled stepping to the side to let him walk into your small apartment smiling softly. The boy took one long step inside the room, he looked around a soft smile growing on his lips as he took in your messy room.
“Who would’ve guessed you’re an actual wreck.” He teased pointing to your messy makeup corner with a soft giggle, you opened your mouth to defend yourself but he was right. You were, in fact, a wreck, if that wasn’t already apparent by you finishing an essay at 2 AM.
“I mean…You’re not wrong.” You shrugged kicking a few t-shirts into a corner with a small almost nervous chuckle as you looked up at him, a bright smile forming on your lips. You used your foot to close your door, sauntering over to him with a shy smile on your pink-tinted lips.
“I missed you, whore,” you told him quietly causing him to laugh softly, resting his hands on your hips , smiling down at you.
“I missed you too, virgin.” he laughed softly pinching your sides, making you squeal quietly, shoving his hands away laughing quietly, looking up at him as you took a step back sitting on your bed staring up at him.
“Virgin? Come on, Jaehyun you can do better.” You patted the space next to you, watching him sit down with an almost tired smile, playing with the fraying edge of your sweatshirt.
There is a silence, almost uncomfortable but not quite there, he let his fingers brush your thighs softly as he continued playing with the loose strings. You smiled softly at him, you could feel your heart swelling as you looked at him, slowly letting your hand push his hood down humming softly when you saw his dirty blond hair.
“You got highlights.” You smiled running a gentle hand through his hair, which was soft and silky, making him nod a little letting his hand drop. 
“You like it? I was having a crisis.” He chuckled letting his hand fall onto your thigh causing you to tense up a little, but you let it happen even resting your hand on top of his taking a step out of your comfort zone.
“It’s cute.” You tell him with a slight nod, blushing softly as he laced his fingers with yours. He smiled happily at your compliment, squeezing your hand softly pulling your hand up to press a soft kiss to your palm.
“I like dark roots a lot. I’ve always wanted to go blond with some dark roots, but I’ve never been bold enough to do it. I don’t know how I would look as a blond.” Jaehyun tilted his head at you, letting his hand grab a lock softly, twirling the strands around his finger, he smirked softly at the thought of you with blond hair.
“I’d like to see you as a blond. I think you’d look really hot, especially with the dark roots.” He tells you with a subtle wink making you blush softly, shoving his hand away softly.
“Shut up,” you told him weakly with a soft laugh looking up at him before quietly resting your head on his shoulder, humming softly into his hoodie.
“How have you been, baby?” He asks quietly running a hand up and down your spine, giving you a soft squeeze as you shrugged softly.
“I’m tired. I’m ready for summer break, ready to go home, ready to sleep regularly.” You told him honestly with a restless laugh.
“Where’s home?” He asked you before quietly patting his lap, waiting for you to move there. You look up at him scooting hesitantly towards him, you felt your stomach twist tightly as you slowly climbed into his lap keeping your back towards him. 
“America.” You told him as you situated yourself on his thick thighs nodding at your answer.
“America?” He pondered out loud, “Are you all by yourself here?” He was asking a lot of questions, you couldn’t imagine him really wanting to know more about your life, he only wanted to fuck you right? You nodded a little, letting your fingers skate softly over the black fabric, feigning an unbothered smile.
“Yeah, I do but it’s fine. I love Seoul, it’s beautiful.” You nod looking back at him before looking back down with a small shrug. 
“Where is your home?” You asked out of courtesy turning your head back towards him to see him smiling lazily at you, you gave him a subtle eye roll before squeezing his thigh in hopes of a response.
“Here. I was born here but moved to Connecticut when I was five for my dad’s work. I came back three years later. I never really left.” You watched his lips move as he talked unsurely about his time here, you looked back up at his eyes smiling a little at how his brows furrowed in concentration.
“So, do you have, like, an English name?” You tease, smiling down at him as he turns his face away from you, a bright smile on his lips.
“I actually have three names.”
This time your brows furrowed but in confusion. Three? This boy had three names? 
You wiggled to reposition yourself to be facing him. Jaehyun took this opportunity to grab your hips, pulling you towards him till your chests were pressed together making you blush softly. You put your hands on his chest to keep some distance between you two, but with hips flush against each other you were feeling everything.
“Tell me about your three names.” You inquire softly, squirming in his hold till you were comfortable again.
“I have my birth name, my name, and my English name.”
There’s a pause. You tilt your head a bit in curiosity, a small chuckle leaving your lips.
“Birth name? You changed your name?”
“Yeah. I wanted a name that meant something. It’s a bitch to legally change your name though so I just use Jaehyun more often than not.”
There’s another pause but this one is filled with quiet giggles and cheesy smiles. Your hands held tightly onto his hoodie smiling down at him, before letting them slide down to let them rest under the fabric feeling his invitingly warm skin.
“Tell me your names.” You felt him jolt back a little at the touch, but he soon relaxed against your palms making your heart beat a little faster.
“Well, my birth name is Jaehyun, my name is Yoonoh, you know that, and my English name is Jay.”
“Jay?”
“Jay.”
You let the name roll off your tongue a few more times before chuckling a little, letting your hands rest around his waist, thumbs rubbing soft circles into the flesh.
“Yoonoh.” You just about whisper to see his reaction, eyes trained in on his face your smile now faint. His eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite read, he looked almost helpless, but the moment of weakness only lasted a second before it dissipated back into his usual cocky grin.
“Haven’t heard someone call me that in a while,” He reveals quietly, “I like when you say it. I like when you say all my names.”
There was a tense pause where you two just stared at each other’s lips, waiting for someone to make the first move. 
“I really missed you.” You tell him quietly, you can feel him grab your arms, pulling them out from underneath his hoodie, and placing them on his wide shoulders.
“Did you, princess?” He whispered up at you a soft smile leaning up to nuzzle his nose against yours, you blushed softly before nodding softly. “I missed you too. I’ve missed your mouth a lot.” He told you while tangling a hand in your hair to hold you in the current position.
“Of course you did.” You giggled squeezing his shoulders a bit before tapping his arm signaling him to let go of your hair which he did, his large hand sliding down your side to rest on your hip squeezing softly. 
“You’re kind of a slut, Jaehyun.” You joked pulling your head off of his laughing quietly as he scoffed looking up at you with an amused smile.
“And you’re kind of a prude, _____.”
You gasped quietly furrowing your brows, your face contorting a little in mock offense.
“I am not a prude, Jay.”
“So, you suck dick in a bathroom once and you’re not a prude anymore?”
“…Yes.”
He let out a boisterous laugh looking up at you with the brightest cleanest smile. You adored his smile, you have many screenshots of blurry snaps of his wide white smile. You could stare at him all day if he would let you. You let your hands cup his cheeks softly with a bright smile, making him smile even wider than before. You swear you could feel your heart practically fall out of your chest at the sight.
You wished Jung Jaehyun was different, you wished you had met him without knowing the copious amount of girls he fucked and left in the dust, but here you were with a tainted view of him that you couldn’t shake away no matter how many times he made your heart nearly fail. He hummed up at you, his hands skimming up your sides till his fingers collided with your exposed skin.
You shifted a little at the touch, he held tighter onto your waist smirking softly up at you. “What did you miss about me, baby?” He whispered letting his thumbs glide over your ribs softly, leaning up to press his forehead to yours. Your throat went dry, you could feel your stomach tighten at how close he was. Your hands dropped from his face to his shoulders blushing softly.
You opened your mouth to tell him how much you missed his lips, how you wanted to kiss him again, how you’d been thinking about him for weeks, but nothing came out your cheeks just burned brighter making you bury your face in the crook of his neck. He giggled squeezing your sides sweetly pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his hand skimmed up your back to tangle his hand in your hair to pull you back with a bright smile.
“Did you miss my fingers, baby?” He questioned smirking up at you with a small head tilt. You stared down at his lips nodding dumbly at his words, you heard him hum up at you leaning in to nuzzle his nose against yours sighing softly.
“Or did you miss my lips?” He whispered, “Did you miss kissing me? I missed kissing you.” He tilted his head to let his lips graze over yours to test the waters before he finally gave you what you wanted. His lips were still the softest pillows you’ve ever laid upon, you whimpered softly at the overwhelming burst of unrecognizable emotions in your stomach.
His lips were so soft, so sweet, so intoxicating, you missed kissing Jaehyun. He wrapped his arms tighter around your waist as he moved his lips against yours, you held tightly onto his hoodie trying to keep him close. He groaned softly as he pulled away to roll on top of you, manhandling you till you were against your pillow as you tried to catch your breath but his lips were reattached to yours in a matter of seconds. He made himself at home between your legs, you kept your grip on his hoodie tugging softly at the fabric.
“Take it off, Jaehyun.” You muttered pulling away, managing to catch your breath huffing quietly as he sat up not even hesitating before pulling the black hoodie off. Your hands were attached to his skin like a magnet, you wanted to feel him, you wanted to keep him close. You wanted him.
Oh god, you liked Jung Jaehyun.
You stared up at him with big almost panicked doe eyes, he leaned down to press soft kisses to your slightly exposed stomach. You let your head fall back with a small whine, you were going to lay there and let him do whatever he wanted. You’d let him do whatever he wanted to you. Scarily, you trusted Jaehyun a lot.
He wasted no time tugging down your sweats down to your knees, you swallowed thickly tugging softly on his locks to pull him back to your lips making him groan against your lips. He hummed softly into the kiss, pressing his hips into yours moaning softly. There was an amazing friction that made you shiver a little, digging your nails into his back with an airy chuckle.
“Keep doing that.” You whispered up at him causing him to smirk softly down at you. He rolled his hips into your clothed core, you could feel his growing length press against you which made you moan softly against his lips.
“You’re so adorable, baby.” He whispered pressing his wet lips to your jawline, nosing softly against your cheek. You bucked your hips into him with a deep shaky breath, he slid his hands up your sides to slide them under your top easily taking your breasts in his large hands.
You gasped softly at the contact, your hands skimming up his back to dig your nails into his skin looking up at him with hooded eyes. He rolled his hips into your clothed core causing a pleasant but short wave of pleasure to wash over you. You furrowed your brows at how good this was feeling, it was almost painful how short the waves lasted with each roll of his hips.
Holy shit, how did he always manage to make you feel so good?
He groaned gruffly against your neck, holding tightly onto your hips, continuing to rut against you his nails leaving crescents imprints on your skin. Soft grunts and gentle gasps filled your little room, red lines forming on his skin when your nails ranked down it, the slow burn in your stomach was starting to grow more intense every time he rolled his hips into yours.
“P-Please kiss me.” You whispered lazily draping your legs around his hips, sighing quietly feeling him kiss up your neck to finally press a soft kiss to your lips.
The tight tension in your stomach was growing uncomfortable, you whined softly into the feather-like kiss feeling his fingers wrap around the hem of your hoodie. You quickly shook your head with a thick swallow, trying to find your voice as you held tighter onto his shoulders.
“I-I want to keep it on.” You finally got out before the fabric could be lifted over your head. He looked down at you with a look of confusion for a second before nodding a bit, his hands falling to your waist smiling comfortably.
“That’s fine. That’s fine. Do you want to take a minute?”
You laced your fingers with his sighing softly as you wrapped your legs around his waist, tugging his hips flush against yours with a thick swallow. 
“I-I was really close. Whatever you’re doing, it feels really really good.” You nodded looking up at him with big eyes, a smug smile tugging at his pink lips as he nodded a little.
“I like making you feel good. You look so pretty when you cum, you know? I want to see that face again.”
Your cheeks burned once again as you looked up at him laughing softly, your eyes looking down at the bulge growing in his sweats.
“You’re really hard, Jaehyun.” You whispered chuckling softly at the sight, he looked up at you with a loud laugh pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, smiling against your skin. His hands skimmed down your sides to hold onto your hips groaning quietly.
He pulled away from you, pulling you up by your hips to place you in his lap, manhandling you till you were straddling his thigh making you gasp softly. He leaned against your wall smirking up at you as he slapped the back of your thigh, squeezing the flesh softly before motioning down towards his thigh.
“Want to take your panties off, baby?” He whispered burying his face into the crook of your neck, peppering soft kisses to the sensitive skin as you nodded slowly. You lifted your hips letting him slide the soaked fabric down your legs, smirking cockily when his digits brushed over your slick folds.
He moved you back on his thigh making you gasp softly, digging your coffin-shaped acrylics into his chest. Jaehyun groaned softly looking down at the pretty pale pink nails, he bit his bottom lip holding tightly onto your hips.
“Ride my thigh, baby.” He whispered leaning in to kiss your lips softly, his hands moving up to hold on tightly to your hoodie.
You didn’t waste any time before rolling your hips against the rough fabric of his sweatpants, loud whimpers falling from your lips into his as your hips moved desperately against him. He pulled away from your lips to watch you pathetically rutting against him, a cocky smirk on his lips chuckling softly as he leaned his back against your wall.
“You’ve done this before haven’t you?” He whispered grabbing a fist full of your hair tugging harshly, making you cry out softly as you dug your nails into his stomach.
Your cheeks glowed with at his question, brows furrowed as a pathetic whimper fell from your lips. Visions of those lonely nights with your pillow between your legs desperately rutting into the pillow, thinking about the quick yet explosive pleasure that eventually lolled you to sleep, but you couldn’t say that to Jaehyun not without wanting to die a little inside.
“Aw, look you’re blushing.” He whispered lowly the same smirk on his lips, “Do you hump your pillow, princess? Do you think about me?”
You only whined in response shutting your eyes tightly, trying to lean into him but the grip on your hair was unforgiving. He kept you still with the iron grip on your hair waiting for you to answer, flexing his thigh underneath you with a cruel smirk on his lips. You whimpered loudly as your hips rolled deeply into his hard thigh, your nails dug deeper into his skin crying out softly.
“Answer the question, _____.” He growled pushing you down till you were looking at him, face redder than before and you could only feel yourself getting redder under his intense stare.
“I-I do. I think about you all the time, Jaehyun.”
He chuckled darkly at the way your voice shook as if you were near tears. He liked seeing you like this, basically falling apart before of him, because of him, was so arousing and erotic his head was spinning. Jaehyun hummed in response, his fingers finally losing on your hair letting your head fall onto his chest, his arms wrapping around you with a quiet sigh.
“Tell me what you think about. Tell me everything.” He whispers into your shoulder, kissing the flesh gently. You kept your hips moving into his thick thigh, your eyes blown wide as your clit brushed against the rough fabric.
“I-I think about your dick. Holy fuck, fuck, your dick is so big and thick.” Your voice was whiny and shaky as you held on tightly to him, “I think about y-you inside me, stretching me out so good, f-fucking me till I’m shaking. Wanna know what makes me cum?” You questioned smirking softly at his bewildered eyes as he nodded quickly, a soft moan leaving his lips as he looked up at you.
You moaned loudly as he flexed his thigh under you once again, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as his eyes stayed trained on your lips.
“I think about you filling me up with your cum.” You shut your eyes tightly, your nails dragging down his chest watching his jaw drop a rough moan fell from his shiny pink lips.
“Fuck, Jaehyun–oh my god–Yoonoh.”
You cut yourself off when you feel the wave of pleasure wash over you, back arching into him as your moan catches in your throat, body rigid and nails deep into his skin. His hips jerked up a few times, low trembling moans ripping through his body as he held tightly onto your hips, you knew there would be bruises by tomorrow. A familiar groan filled your apartment, you were too overwhelmed by the short ripples of pleasure still rolling through your body, mindlessly nuzzling into his chest.
The room is full of heavy breathing, his hands letting go of your hips to rub softly at your thighs. You swallowed thickly against the crook of his neck, pulling away slowly to look at him with raised brows.
“Did you...Did you cum in your pants?” You asked moving your hands to his face, your thumbs stroking his cheeks when they glowed softly. He blinked a few times, brown eyes looking down at his sweats which were wet in multiple spots now. You watched a cute embarrassed smile appear on his glistening pink lips, his cheeks glowing brightly at your question.
“Y-You look so good when you cum. I couldn’t help it.”
You tilted your head at his weak tone, he looked so wrecked borderline pathetic from his orgasm. You felt something spark inside you seeing him like that, something that you’ve never felt before.
You wanted him.
Quietly you swallowed the urge with a small sigh, hands gently brushing his hair out of his doe eyes. You brushed the thought away, tossing your hair over your shoulder with a quiet hum. He groans softly looking up at you, cringing softly when he shifts his hips a little bit.
“Fuck. I feel gross. I feel really sticky.” He whispered his head falling back against the wall sighing contently, eyes fluttering shut as you ran your hands up and down his marked chest.
There was a blissful silence. A silence that you never wanted to end. You were the one to break it, pulling away to look at his blissful face smirking wickedly at him.
“You came fast and untouched. You must really like me, hm?”
“I liked the way you said Yoonoh. No one has ever said it like that.”
“No one has said it while cumming before?” You giggled stroking his hair softly, smiling at him gently. His eyes fluttered open to stare at your lips before looking up at you, swallowing thickly at the sight of the wet patch on his thigh.
Another silence filled your room, he leaned down to press soft kisses to your collarbones. You rested your cheek on the top of his head, nuzzling against his soft hair humming quietly as he brushed his nose against your throat. You wanted to stay like this, you wanted to keep him close, you wanted to stay in his arms, doused in his warmth as you both recovered from your orgasms.
You cleared your throat, untangling yourself from him as you slid off his thigh taking a deep breath with a soft huff. You looked around to find your underwear, you felt him move from behind you grunting uncomfortably as he stood up off your bed.
“Can I shower here? I don’t want to walk back with cum in my pants.”
“You walked here? Where’s your place?” You questioned sliding your underwear back on and turning towards him with a small head tilt. He turned towards you a soft smile adoring his pink lips, your eyes adoring the bright red lines on his tan chest.
“I live in the apartments a few blocks away.”
You nodded a bit trying to envision what his apartment looked like. Was it messy? Was it put together?
You could see shirts scattered across his floor, his bed unmade, and dishes in the sink. Maybe Jaehyun was a clean freak with a tightly made bed, spotless floors, and a pristine kitchen where everything is organized. Your eyes scanned over him quickly with a small smile, your chest aching a little at the sight of him.
“You can–” You turned toward your clock, the intimidating red numbers telling you it was nearing 3 AM. You couldn’t let him walk alone at 3 AM even though you knew he’d be just fine, but still, you’d be too worried to let him walk out of your apartment this late.
“You can…Stay the night if you want. It’s–um–it’s really late, you shouldn’t be walking alone this late.”
He looked a little surprised at your offer a soft chuckle left his lips as he thought about spending the night with you. He shrugged his broad shoulders with a small nod, a soft smile forming on his lips looking down at you.
“I would like that. We can finally–”
“Hold it, Jay. You’re sleeping on the floor.”
“Oh come on, prude. You know you want to snuggle with me.”
You rolled your eyes a little bit at the way his smile turned into a soft smirk. You aggressively pointed towards the small, pathetic, excuse of a bathroom you had, it was more like a closet with a shower in it. “Go shower. The cum in your pants is probably dried now.” You teased with a soft laugh, only laughing harder when he shot you a playful glare before turning around to disappear into your closet bathroom.
You dug through your drawer to find the lone pair of boxers you bought as an experiment last month. He’ll only need new underwear, right? You slowly knocked on the flimsy door, poking your head in the warm room, your eyes falling to the floor when you hear him pull your curtain back a bit.
“Couldn’t help yourself?” He teased smirking softly at you, running his hand through his wet hair as you blindly tossed the boxers on the sink. You only looked up to shoot him a slightly disgusted look, you watched him laugh at your expression before winking playfully tilting his head a bit.
“Thank you.” He tells you sweetly, an even sweeter smile on his lips, “I’ll be out in a minute.” He nods closing the shower curtain.
You closed the door behind you humming softly as you went to your closet, getting on your toes to pull down the extra blankets from the top shelf. You laid the blankets down for him next to your bed, grabbing one pillow from your bed to drop it on the ground. The makeshift bed on the floor was a pastel pathetic mess on your floor but he’d probably be fine, right? You stared down at the blankets almost leaning down to straighten them out, but there was a sudden vibration from the edge of your bed.
Your head shot up to turn towards your bed, seeing the fabric of his hoodie light up. You paused for a moment just staring at the glowing hoodie. Who was texting him at 3 AM? Without letting yourself hesitate, you pulled his phone out from its pocket sitting down on your bed to scroll through his notifications.
Every contact name was just initials. You found it odd but also didn’t question it. Jaehyun was a fuckboy after all.  You furrowed your brows at the screen.
q.k : if ur going to leave at two am pls be quiet when you do it
l.m.h : do u have the answers for the review i’m dying dude
k.d.h : baby i miss you :(
k.d.h : ik it’s late but i want to see you
k.d.h : jaeeeeeeee 
You blinked a few times at the messages. Who was k.d.h? Why were they texting him at two am? You heard the shower water stop, you quickly shoved the phone back into his hoodie, hands slightly shaky and mind racing. You shouldn’t be thinking this hard about someone he wasn’t even with right now. You shouldn’t be thinking this hard about Jaehyun in general. He should be an afterthought, he shouldn’t even be here right now, but here he was showering in your apartment.
When he walked out of the bathroom, toweling off his dripping locks looking up at you smiling sweetly at you before looking down at the mess of blankets beneath you.
“Is that my bed for tonight?” He asked adjusting his boxers as his eyes stared down at the pallet, his hand rubbing his stomach. You nodded a little forcing a small smile as he lay down on the floor, grunting softly as he rolled around trying to get comfortable.
“Stop being dramatic, oh my god.”
You teased reaching over to turn your lamp off a sudden wave of darkness swallowing your room. Tucking yourself in, you tangled yourself in your cold blanket sighing quietly as he rolled around with a series of small grunts. He reached up to place his hand on your bed trying to get your attention, tapping his fingers against your mattress waiting for you to pay attention to him.
“Go to sleep, Jaehyun.”
“I can’t.”
“You haven’t even tried, you crackhead.”
“Maybe I don’t want to sleep. Maybe I want to keep talking to you.”
“Oh my god, shut the fuck up.” You groaned shoving his hand off your mattress with a small eye roll. He sat up to look at you, you could make out a disgruntled look on Jaehyun’s face. You weren’t looking at him. You didn’t want to look at his giant shoulders and beautiful face, not with the daunting question of  “Who’s k.d.h?” racking your brain. He stared at you do a second, running a hand through his damp hair as he tilted his head a bit.
“You’re getting…hostile again. Is this how you act with the people you like?”
“I don’t like you.” You quickly denied with furrowed brows, “Like that. I don’t like you like that.” You lied with a thick and hard swallow.
There was a silence that made your stomach twist and turns, you finally looked at him with furrowed brows sighing quietly. “Don’t look at me like that.” You whispered looking down at him with a soft sigh, slowly letting your hand drop down to rest softly on his shoulder. You rubbed circles into the taut skin waiting for him to say something, but he just stared at you with his big eyes making you sigh quietly.
“You don’t like me like that and you know it.”
He scoffed quietly before shaking his head. “You’re so…You’re so aggravating.” You frowned your brows at his word choice, shoving his shoulder harshly with a huff. 
“I am not. You’re the aggravating one.” You snapped sitting up to look down at him with slight irritation on your face. He looked up at you with an equally as irritated look, laughing bitterly as he got on his knees to be closer to your level.
“You act like you know me and everything about me–”
“Don’t start that shit again please.” You groaned rolling your eyes. He raised his brows at you in slight shock that you interrupted him. You mocked his shocked expression trying to get a rise out of him. You wanted to see him angry, you wanted him mad, but you weren’t getting it from him. He just stared at you, brows furrowed and lips tightly together, as he tilted his head a bit at you.
“I know enough about you to know you don’t want to date me, Jaehyun. You can say you just want to fuck me and it’ll be fine. Just stop acting like you want something more from me.”
“That’s-That’s not true. I like you. I don’t want to just fuck you. I want–”
“If you like me so much who’s k.d.h?”
There’s a sharp and heavy silence. He stared at you with frowned brows he looked confused, angry, and guilty at the same time.
“You looked through my phone?”
“It was kind of hard to ignore seeing k.d.h was texting you every five minutes.”
“You looked through my phone?” He repeated more sternly this time standing up to look down at you suddenly making you feel ten times smaller than you already felt. You averted your eyes awkwardly as he turned on your lamp, you flinched at the burst of dim light keeping your eyes down. He leaned down getting dangerously close to you, his face too close to yours for your comfort.
“Answer me, _____.”
“I did.” You finally whispered, shoulders slumped and eyes focused on your floor taking a deep breath. His stare was finally getting the best of you, you could feel your chest tightening, your stomach dropping, and a burning sensation in your eyes. You felt like a child being scolded, you hated this, you hated him for making you feel this way.
“Who is she?” You asked pathetically, blinking a few times trying to ignore the tears brimming your eyes. You looked up at him, head tilted sympathetically as your eyes begged him for an answer. His face softened at the utterly depressing look on your face, slowly resting a large hand on your bare thigh making you huff softly dabbing your eyes with your thumb.
“Her name is Kim Dahee. She’s…She’s my girlfriend.”
Your jaw dropped a little when you heard her name and the title she carried. He swallowed thickly looking down, sighing quietly, squeezing your thigh a little as your bottom lip quivered a bit. 
You felt gross, you felt used, you felt like a bad person, oh god, you were a bad person. 
“You-Your girlfriend?” You asked quietly, brows knit together feeling your chest get painfully tight at the fact this conversation was happening.
“We’ve been dating for around four months now.” You finally turn away from him wanting to throw up at the fact you were the other woman. Were you really though? You didn’t even know what the other woman entailed, so did you really fit the mold of the other woman?
“Oh, my god. Oh my god, you fucked my throat in a bathroom while you had a girlfriend! Y-You came over to my apartment, made out with me, came in your pants because of me, you tell me all this-this bullshit about liking me and you have an entire girlfriend! How fucking dense are you!”
You exploded shoving his hand off of your thigh, wanting no physical contact with Jung Jaehyun for the rest of your life. You’ve never felt so dumb in your life. You were an idiot. A dumb slut. You really let yourself fall for some dumb boy with a girlfriend. God, you felt disgusting.
“Hey, hey, calm down baby–”
“Don’t. Don’t call me that. What the hell is wrong with you?”
You snapped turning away from him to wipe your eyes with a frustrated groan, you shook your head sniffling softly. Hot tears were running down your cheeks, you couldn’t seem to stop the steady streams from dripping onto your sheets.
“You fucking preach how I don’t know you, how judgmental I’ve been towards you, and you’ve been cheating this whole time?” He pursed his lips together, not being able to say anything just sighed quietly looking at his feet. For the first time you left Jaehyun speechless, he was just standing there like an idiot.
“I should’ve known. I did know. I knew who you were, I knew you didn’t care about me or anyone but yourself, and I still––”
Your throat closed up a bit, letting out another frustrated groan, and looked up at him with a shake of your head.
“I was right about you.” You whispered looking at him with teary eyes, your chest aching a little at how hurt he looked at your words. You pretended you didn’t care, you knew he deserved it, but that didn’t stop it from causing an uncomfortable tightening sensation in your chest. There’s this heavy silence, one where he just stood in front of you guilt all over his beautiful face. You swallowed thickly, climbing back under your blankets holding tightly onto the comforting soft cover as you turned your back towards him.
“I want you out by seven.” You deadpanned staring at your white wall the light suddenly going out darkness consuming your room once again. “Alright.” He mumbled laying back down on the flimsy palette, sniffling softly as he rolled on his side.
Another heavy silence.
“You…You won’t tell her, right?”
You thought about it for a minute. You were never good at confrontation, especially with girls, you couldn’t imagine even approaching the stunning angel that was Kim Doyeon let alone telling her all the things you had done with her boyfriend. Her boyfriend. Jaehyun was her boyfriend. He was never going to be yours. No matter how hard or quietly you wanted him, he would never be yours.
“I won’t.” You whisper turning on your back to stare at the ceiling, the last of your silent tears running off your cheeks and onto your pillow. “Jaehyun,” Your tone was so weak and soft you hoped he would actually take you seriously, “I-I don’t want to do this if-if you have someone.”
Another damn silence.
“Okay. Okay, I get it.” You blinked a few times trying to get the sting of his agreement to get disappear, sighing softly at how heavy you felt. You at least thought it would be lighter after the resolution, but it only seemed to make everything heavier.
“Goodnight, ___.”
You didn’t respond. You couldn’t respond. You just stared at the wall, eyes heavy, but you couldn’t find sleep even though you desperately wanted to. You tossed and turned for what felt like hours, blankets tangled between your legs, Jaehyun’s even breathing the only sound filling your room. Your eyes looked up at your window seeing a faint ray of orange streaming into your room.
You blinked your heavy lids before looking down at the sleeping boy on your floor, a sad smile on your lips when you glanced over his relaxed figure sighing quietly. He looked beautiful sleeping, his long limbs relaxed and sprawled out on the floor, his lips relaxed and slightly parted, he was so beautiful. Slowly, you laid back down closing your eyes, trying to coax yourself back to sleep.
Suddenly there was a loud ring through your room, one you flinched at but didn’t say anything about it. You heard him groan and shift around, stumbling through your room to find his clothes, grumbling inaudible things as he gathered his things trying to be as quiet as he could. You kept your eyes closed, pretending to be asleep not wanting to deal with him or the inevitable goodbye that was to come.
The shuffling sounds grew closer till you felt his hand on your cheek. You couldn’t help but jump away a bit before leaning into his palm, knowing if you opened your eyes you’d be met with those doe eyes that made your chest want to explode. Slowly, you felt tentative lips press against your forehead, making your chest want to explode as usual. Without hesitation you let your eyes flutter open, staring up at him with tired yet wide eyes swallowing quietly as you two made eye contact.
You two just stared at each other, you could feel him begin to rub soft circles against your skin. He sighed quietly at how tired and sad you looked because of him, you finally adverted your eyes from his brown ones letting them focus on his wrist as you slowly place your hand on top of his. He was dressed in the clothes from last night, his hair was a wreck, and his eyes looked tired but he was still mesmerizing. It was way too quiet for your liking, it was weird for Jaehyun to be this quiet for this long but you understood.
You sensed him leaning in again. You almost let it happen, you almost let your lips collide with his, but even when his plush lips just brushed against yours you felt nerve-wracking guilt wreck through you. You turned away last second, your chest aching with want when you did so. You wanted him. You wanted him so bad but not like this. He rested his forehead against the side of your face, sighing quietly over the rejection before pressing one last soft kiss to your cheekbone.
He didn’t say anything, just grabbed his phone and walked out just like you expected him to. You slowly leaned down, grabbing the pillow he slept on with a soft sigh, pulling it to your chest with another quiet sigh nuzzling your face into the plush pillow. You inhaled the fading scent of him, your eyes growing wet as he filled your senses nails digging into the pillow.
There was a moment where you let yourself cry into your pillow. You let yourself mourn over a relationship that wasn’t even real, you could feel your eyes begin to burn at the steady flow of tears running down your cheeks. You finally lifted your head to wipe your eyes, sniffling a bit as you forced yourself to stop crying over Jaehyun, causing you to hiccup a little bit.
You checked the time on your phone rubbing your eyes till they were red and wet, blinking a few times to see your screen more clearly. It was only 7 AM. You could fall asleep and wake up before noon, get something to eat maybe, then make it to your study group by three. You put your phone back on your bedside table exhausted, burying your face back in Jaehyun’s pillow, hiccuping once again. You slowly fell into a weak sleep longing for him to be beside you.
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scoobysnakz · 3 months
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part 2 of dbf miguel. so sorry this took so long, accidentally deleted the draft like twenty times.
The TV hums softly as a random sitcom you've not gotten the chance to see yet flickers across the screen. You know you should turn it off, it's distracting you from completing your essay, one you've been procrastinating about finishing, but the background noise is comforting enough to let you keep it on, even if you'll have to rewatch it all later.
“Need help with that?”
You jump at the sudden noise, pen now clattering on the floor and rolling dangerously close to the sofa. You look up at where the voice came from, only to be met with a freshly shaven Miguel.
Embarrassment burns the back of your neck as you shift on the plush cushion of the sofa. The only thing covering the crinkled page of your otherwise barren notebook is an array of flowers around the margin and random notes scribbled out in heavy, blotchy lines.
“Am fine,” you smile, fingers spreading out to hide your work, or lack of.
Miguel just scoffs at you before pushing your hand away. “Such detailed notes,” he chides.
“It's meant to be an essay, but thanks anyway.”
You hear him stifle a laugh that you pray is sympathetic and not as amused as it sounds. It's shameful how far behind you are on your schoolwork when you have someone peering over your shoulder.
You aren't quite sure why you're so pent up on impressing Miguel, a man who is staying at his friend's house for some unbeknownst reason.
He sits down on the sofa next to you, a respectful distance but you can still smell his overbearing cologne and hair gel fusion. The sofa sinks slightly at his weight, a low creak eminating through the room.
He laughs, “let me help.”
Irritation bubbles deep in your stomach but you try to push it away, ignore it and keep going with the conversation. But when he acts so casual, even though he's stolen your bedroom, your only haven in this monstrosity of a household, you can’t help but feel annoyed with him.
“I doubt it,” you quip with an air of ignorance, fingers drumming erratically on the inky pages, “this is biology, aren't you like a chemist or something?”
A smirk curls at the corner of his lips at your sudden attitude, but he doesn't comment on it, leaving your opinion of him more distasteful than ever. “Well my degree says organic chemistry and molecular biology, so you're both wrong and right.”
“Mmm, so either, you're loaded, or up to your neck in debt.” you don't even try to hide the snark in your voice, “considering the fact that you’re staying here, I'm guessing student loan got the better of you.”
He scoffs at you, hand clasped to his chest in feigned hurt. “I'll have you know, I have a well-paying job, thank you very much.”
You flip your notebook shut, a small sense of relief washing over you now that disgrace of an essay is hidden, and shift to face him. “Then why are you here?”
He swallows, hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. His gaze flickers between your face and the wall behind you, discomfort colouring his expression. The atmosphere of the room shifts entirely, and suddenly you feel guilty for hating him. Maybe he didn't mean to take your room, not on purpose anyway.
“I lost my house, not… not because of money or anything,” he pauses, plush lips pursed into a tight grimace before he continues, “didn't get a very good divorce lawyer.”
“I'm… sorry?” you've never been good at sympathy, always pushed the hard topic of emotions onto someone else so you can focus on something you're actually good at. But now, some weird part of you wants to comfort him.
“Hmm?” he looks back at your eyes, your breath catching in your throat, “Not your fault, querida, I was a silly man who did silly things. I made a mistake and lost the love of my life.”
“Don't say that.” you hate the way your voice softens. You want to keep this burning resentment for Miguel, loathe him for all eternity, it might seem petty but he deserves it. Yet, you want to pull him close, tell him to stop being so hard on himself and run your fingers through his hair until his jaw unclenches.
He shakes his head, casually, as if it was never that important.
“I couldn't stay faithful and I paid the price, she has everything she deserves leaving me with… nothing.”
An awkward silence fills the room. You don't know what to say to that other than, I take back my kindness and spit in your face for cheating on your wife.
“She was amazing, so full of life, and then one day… we just stopped clicking,” he leans back against the sofa, head craning back so that he's forced to stare at the yellowing ceiling, “it wasn't a spur of the moment, because I got bored thing. We had stopped loving each other, she had anyway.”
You reach out, your fingers brushing against his much more calloused, harsh ones causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. You give his hand a gentle squeeze that lasts a little longer than intended, but the sweetness of the action doesn't go unnoticed.
The upbeat theme tune from the TV suddenly blares out from the speakers causing the two of you to startle. Your fingers tighten around his on instinct but you immediately pull your hand away.
Miguel chuckles a low, mellow sound that makes your ears perk up. “Sat on the remote,” he says, pulling it from under his thigh.
“Scared the shit out of me, Migs- Miguel,” you breathe heavily.
He nods, smiling uneasily, praying that the hammering of his heart is from the sudden shock and not from the kindness you displayed. But deep down, he knows the truth.
prev <
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cleolinda · 6 months
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The happenings, Tumblr edition
Obviously I am not happy about the prospect of Tumblr going into sunset "guess we'll just let it die" mode (or possibly "Let's sell it to fuck knows who!!"), if that is indeed what is happening. My clinical anxiety needs a lot of things. This is not one of them.
I've been using Tumblr as my primary hangout for pretty much exactly a year now. I am tired of watching platforms enshittify and crumble. Why does this keep happening to us. I am weary.
At the same time, yeah, Twitter is dogshit now, but a year after it got taken over, it is there still. There were some problems on Reddit, but it's thoroughly still there. There was time to figure out some migration for all the good it did.
I worked on essay-type posts and recaps all this year to figure out approximately how many spoons I have and how much I can expect to post a month, before I actually got the Patreon running in October. A solid 1-2 Long Posts a month, it seems like, and maybe more frequently if I do shorter posts. And Tumblr has great opportunities to just keep reblogging and sharing things, sometimes adding comments, so I feel like I'm active even when I'm stuck trying to finish a post of my own.
So now, fuck me, I guess
So I have the Patreon as a way to say, hey, I'm here no matter what else happens, sign up for the ~*free*~ weekend linkspam/check-in, here's what I posted wherever this week, I'll put up some early or extra stuff if you'd like to upgrade to a fancy tier someday. It is truly most important to me for people to just know where I am; you don't have to commit to the $1 or $5 tiers.
But I also want a way to post my writing publicly, so people can, you know, see it. So I'm gonna start mirroring my own longer posts on Dreamwidth, I guess. That's the place I know to go back to.
Hopefully Dreamwidth does not go also down in flames!!!!
I've started archiving some of my work (also from LJ and Twitter) as PDFs in Dropbox. Mostly as a safeguard for myself, but I'll make it a public link on the Patreon.
I would really like to keep up with where people are going, what sites people are going to try to migrate to next, and I'll pass that info on as I get it.
All that said, I think most of us will stay on Tumblr as long as we can, if only for the very unique shoot-the-shit culture it has. Like, people aren't leaving it so much as preparing for the future.
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gyu-effect · 1 year
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(tryna do) what lovers do || y.jh
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"WE ARE JUST TRYNA DO WHAT LOVERS DO”
PAIRING || Jeonghan x Female Reader
GENRES || Fake Dating AU, College AU, Humour, Fluff, Friends To Lovers AU, Rich Kids AU
SUMMARY || When you had roped Jeonghan into your idea of being a ‘pretend’ couple, you did not expect the lie to grow this big. What was supposed to be a one day thing soon became a rather frequent occurrence. And the gravity of the situation did not really hit you until your parents were requesting an audience with your new ‘boyfriend’. Will the two of you be able to keep your act till then?
Or, in which, you keep promising yourself that this would be the last day you pretend to have feelings for Yoon Jeonghan.
SERIES MASTERLIST || teen, age
MUSIC || What Lover Do by Maroon 5 and SZA
WARNINGS || Joshua being a menace to the society, one mention of threesome as a joke (I really tried to keep it sfw but this was inevitable really sorry), drunk Jeonghan, a make out scene, probably very wrong elite party etiquettes (don’t come at me pls), a bit of swearing
WORD COUNT || 15k
A/N || As much as I was dying to write this fic, a lot of times I had to stop it because the flow was so bad. I hope it doesn’t affect the outcome so do tell me what you guys think about it! I would love to hear all of your opinions about it! Also for better understanding, Jeonghan’ suit was the one he wore for Don’t Lie Series Pt.2!
TAGLIST || @fragmentof-indifference @millielovescheol @jkbabiey @kokoiinuts @alyssng​ @cecedrake2217 @dr3aluv5 @romeosbreastmilk @y00nzin0      [thank you for being interested! if you wanted to be added to the series taglist or my general taglist, send me an ask!]
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“Oh my god, why am I even here?” You sobbed to yourself, as you frantically turned the pages of the thick textbook, searching desperately for anything that could help you in your project. Despite being in the library for the past four hours, you had managed to write only two pages of your five page essay. You cursed yourself mentally for picking such a difficult topic in an attempt to be different from others.
“To get your degree and a job that will secure your future?” Seungkwan replied, as though he hadn’t been complaining about his own work a minute ago.
“Thanks. I wasn’t really sure before why I applied for college but now I definitely am.” You muttered, squeezing your eyes shut as you closed your laptop. As the semester was approaching the end, all the project deadlines had clogged up your calendar and you were pathetically struggling to finish everything on time. 
“You did not ask yourself this question when you were at the party yesterday.” He reminded you, causing you to open your eyes and glare at him. 
“I’ve been to a maximum of three parties throughout this entire semester minus our initiation party. How much more do you want me to quit? If I don’t let out my stress in some way or the other I’m going to combust.”
“Lies. You hate these parties and your stress busting mechanism is to go shopping with Kim Yeri.”
You raised your hands in defeat, but still stuck out your tongue at your best friend. Just because he was right didn’t mean you couldn’t complain and whine to him. 
“Speaking of parties,” he continued after shutting his laptop and looking at you, “What are you going to do about the one next week?”
You stared at him.
“Next week? What party?”
“Min Seolah’s party? She sent an invitation to you?” 
“Ah,” you said, vaguely remembering something in your inbox which you might have deleted out of anger at your pending work. “I just won’t go. Where’s it taking place? Her apartment?”
Now it was Seungkwan’s turn to stare at you.
“You didn’t go through the invitation did you?” He glared at you when you smiled sheepishly at him. “It’s an elite party. And you are expected to have an escort. In more polite terms, a date.” 
You felt your smile dip as soon as you heard the word ‘elite’. You absolutely hated these formal parties. More than boring, they were painful beyond words and talking with all the powerful delegates who were usually present there always exhausted you mentally. 
“Can’t I- can’t we excuse ourselves?”
“Our parents will be there.”
That line hit you like a truck and you finally felt the realisation sink in. “Oh my god. Oh my god, Seungkwan. I-I need to pick a dress! And shoes! And-And an escort! Where the hell am I supposed to get a date?” Even Seungkwan didn’t seem to have an answer for this. You continued your rambling as the panic finally settled in properly. “Oh god. How does one, who had next to zero social interactions outside her friend circle, manage to find a date in less than a week? And how are you so calm about this? Do you want to pretend to be each other’s escorts? Everyone knows there’s nothing between us anyways.”
“Er, about that.” Seungkwan began, awkwardly scratching his neck. “I already have a date.”
For the second time that day, Boo Seungkwan had dropped another bomb on you. You closed your mouth that had been hanging open and edged your chair closer to his suspiciously.
“Wait, what? When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me anything?”
“It happened just right before I came into the library!” He began, clearly flustered as he was avoiding your gaze and aimlessly flipping the pages of the book in front of him (it was actually your book, a subject he didn’t even have). “Sowon just- just randomly asked whether I wanted to go with her because she thought I was cool and I was so taken aback, I said yes without even thinking-”
“Is that all it takes to ask you out? Just tell you that you are cool?” You asked, leaning back and grinning at your furiously blushing best friend. You had seen Seungkwan embarrassed (and had sometimes even been the cause of it), but to see him this shy because of some girl from economics seemed worthy to make fun of. In the back of your mind, you made a mental note to tell this to Chan. 
“Are you worried about that? Shouldn’t you be worried about your lack of date, instead?” 
“Yeah…But I’ve got to finish this assignment before.” You always had your priorities right, and getting a degree was definitely one of them. “And I’m hungry.”
“It’s almost lunch time. Want to grab something from the canteen?” Seungkwan asked, checking his watch. You nodded and both of you packed up your things, walking out into the sunlight after what felt like an eternity of being in the dark library. 
No sooner had you stepped out of the threshold, you felt a gush of wind from behind you that nearly knocked you over, but Seungkwan wasn’t that lucky. He stumbled onto the ground as that gush of wind (now identified as Kwon Soonyoung) grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up. Or rather yanked him up.
“Hey! Do you want to die?” Seungkwan yelled, as you blinked and tried to process what had just happened. Then feeling a smile tug at the corner of your lips at the sight of Soonyoung nervously apologising to Seungkwan, you gently patted the latter’s back.
“Are you okay?” You asked, his neck visibly red at the sudden tugging of his shirt collar. 
“I highly doubt you should be smiling while asking me that?”
“I- okay I’m sorry.” By now you were grinning. “Drink some water, you should be fine. And Soonyoung, why the hell did you try to knock us out?”
“I wasn’t trying to! I just wanted to surprise Seungkwan from behind but I guess I ran a bit too fast.”
“A bit?” Seungkwan was still massaging his neck. “I bet you would have told that excuse to the judges for attempted murder after getting arrested because my head got dislocated from my spine.”
“Anyways, what do you think they are serving us for lunch?” Soonyoung asked, hastily changing the subject.
Before you or Seungkwan could reply, all of a sudden you realised you had left your jacket on the chair in the library. “Uh, guys I’ll catch up with you in the mess? I left my jacket behind.”
“You don’t want us to wait for you?” Seungkwan asked but you shook your head in negative.
“It’s fine. But don’t forget to save me a seat or else I’ll steal all your tiger plushies Soonyoung.”
Soonyoung faked a look of horror, pulling Seungkwan and breaking into a run. This earned an eye roll from Seungkwan as he waved you goodbye. Giggling at their retreating figure you went back inside the library. Thankfully, it was still there and slipping into it, you quickly walked out again. 
This time when you walked out, you found yourself staring at the couple underneath the willow tree near the library. It was still full of leaves despite it being almost autumn. It was almost cute to see the couple until you remembered your own position; you had to find a date before the week ended.
The sun glared on you and you instinctively took a step back, immediately colliding with someone. The two of you let out an ‘ah!’ as you stumbled back more before you felt the person’s hands on your shoulder, stabilising you.
“I’m so sorry!” You gushed, turning back to look at the person. You found yourself looking up at Yoon Jeonghan’s equally surprised face as he helped you up. “Jeonghan, shit, I’m so sorry. I should have looked.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine. Are you okay? Don’t walk backwards like that, you might get hurt. Unless, you have Mad-Eye Moody's eyes.” He joked casually and you smiled sheepishly at him. 
Jeonghan was a good friend of yours; he was in your close friends circle and you thoroughly enjoyed his presence (as long as you weren’t the one getting pranked). He also happened to be smart and handsome, a plus point which made him a campus heartthrob. As you took in his appearance, you noticed he had grown out his hair a bit. A gentle wind blew against the two of you and his hair ruffled slightly, sunlight catching his face as he grinned at you.
And then, it struck you.
“What? What’s wrong?” He asked, as you stared at him, your mouth slightly open. “Don’t tell me there’s sauce on my face and Joshua didn’t tell me about it.”
That snapped you back to the present and you shook your head. “Er, no. Um, Jeonghan?” 
“Yeah?”
You knew for sure he had been invited to the same upscale party as you, but you had to make sure before asking him.
“You don’t have a significant other, do you? Or maybe a crush?”
Now it was time for him to stare at you.
“Uh…no? Where is this coming from?”
“Then do you want to date me?”
Jeonghan stared at you for a good few seconds, as though trying to find out if you were joking. Immediately you realised how sudden you sounded and quickly corrected yourself, while grabbing his arm to calm him down. “I mean, would you like to be my escort for Min Seolha’s party? That is, if you still don’t have anyone?”
“Oh.” Jeonghan laughed awkwardly, before patting your hand. “But you know, you are supposed to get a potential partner as your escort. I mean…”
His voice trailed off and you dropped your hand, feeling slightly embarrassed. You were a bit disappointed, but you could understand where he was coming from and you definitely did not want to pressurise him.
“Ah, of course I understand! Forget I asked. It’s just that, I don’t have anyone in my mind right now so I thought if anyone who was comfortable with me was willing to go-”
“I’m not uncomfortable with you!” He exclaimed, grabbing your hand. “I just- I just thought maybe you would want to go with someone you like. Or…yeah, damn. You are right. Even I don’t have anyone in mind and I definitely can’t find anyone in a week.”
“If it makes you too uncomfortable going with a friend, we can pretend to be a couple.”
The words were out of your mouth before you even thought about it but it was too late to take it back. Jeonghan looked taken aback and you were going to apologise to him once more but instead he nodded at your plan. 
“Oh yeah, that sounds like a good idea. It won’t even raise any odd questions.” 
You didn’t expect Jeonghan to agree to your plan so quickly, let alone the last part so all you could was a flustered laugh. This earned a soft smile from him as he asked you, “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” You lied. “Don’t tell me later on it’s a prank, okay?”
His smile fell a little as he pouted at you, immediately causing you to wince at your words. “Hey, just because I cheat at games doesn’t mean I play with people’s emotions.” 
“I know, I know. I was just joking. You are an angel, Jeonghan.” It was true though. He was a very sweet friend and always took care of those around him. In fact at get-togethers, he was always the one who made sure everyone had enough food. He helped with notes or anything related to studies. You did know that he was a really nice person, except when he was trying to be a menace to the society.
“By the way, do we have any rules or something?” He asked.
“Rules?”
“We need to make this a little believable right? Or else people are going to easily realise that we just agreed to be each other's date because we couldn’t find anyone and honestly, that’s a bit embarrassing.” 
“Yeah.” You scratched your neck, not having thought this far. What he was saying was true, if this plan backfired you both could become a laughing stock and the last thing you need in your already full plate was another lecture from your parents.” “Yeah, I think we do.” 
“Then do you want to have lunch in my room?”
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“It’s a good thing you got the dorm closest to the library.” You said sarcastically, as you entered his room and finally caught your breath. You collapsed onto his sofa, mentally cursing the building planner for putting the library near the entrance of the campus and some of the boys’ dormitories at the other end. Jeonghan flopped down beside you, equally out of breath despite doing this for quite some time now. 
“Hey, it could have been worse. I could have got an apartment outside the campus and who knows, we might have still been travelling by bus just to get to my place.”
“That’s true.” You grumbled. “But in that case, we would have just gone to my dorm.” 
���I’ll need a special pass to enter the girls’ dorm.” He groaned. “I wish our college wasn’t so strict for first years. Anyways, we should-”
“Hey, have you seen my shampoo?”
A new voice came into the living room and you turned towards it, just to find yourself staring at a half-naked Hong Joshua, standing in front of the bedroom door with just a towel around his torso. You felt your cheek burn as you took in his dripping torso, muscles flexing with almost the slightest movement. At first he hadn’t noticed you but then his eyes locked with yours, causing you to realise what you were doing.
But before you could even look away, you felt Jeonghan’s hands practically slam into your face, covering your eyes from the (amazing) sight you were staring at.
“Hey!” Jeonghan yelped, his voice an octave higher as he too sounded flustered by this. “Why did you come out without checking if anyone was even there? You heard her voice right?”
“I-I- I did not expect-” Joshua stammered and you interrupted him.
“I’m sorry!” You squeaked, still recovering. “I’m sorry that I looked!”
“Uh, no. I shouldn’t have- I should- Yeah, I should just go. Catch up with you guys later!”
Once you heard the bedroom door slam shut, Jeonghan removed his hand from your eyes. You looked at him and he still seemed shocked, and even a bit embarrassed.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He muttered, clearing his throat as he poured out a cup of water for you. You took the cup from his hand with a small thank you, glad that you had something to cool yourself down.
“No. I’m sorry. I should have immediately looked away.”
“It was sudden.” Jeonghan said, as though understanding you completely. He still seemed unable to meet your eyes, and was busy rearranging the coasters kept on the coffee table in front of you, despite them being already arranged properly. Somehow looking at the Yoon Jeonghan like this set off the devilish side inside you. 
“Does Joshua work out everyday?” You asked casually.
“He does. Not only does he have a gym membership, he also has some stuff in his room.” Jeonghan replied, without missing a beat. He seemed to have regained his composure because he smiled at you and asked, “Why? having second thoughts about me and want to go for Joshua?”
“What?” You spluttered over your water, your time to be taken aback. “I- I would never-”
“Relax, I’m just joking. If you are with him, your ears might drop because of him singing ‘Sunday morning, rain is falling’. Who knows, he probably went back to get showered on because it’s not raining today. It is Sunday, after all.”
You stared at him, trying to make which part was real and which wasn’t. Even though his smile was genuine, you had fallen for his tricks quite a few times and you knew better not to trust that angelic smile. But having a proper one on one conversation with him made you realise how convincing he was.
“Er, let’s go back to why I came here. I think we should make some boundaries so that neither of us are uncomfortable with each other and also some points which might convince people we are dating.”
“Right.” Jeonghan said, magically conjuring up a paper and pen from somewhere. “So first of all, I think we should decide on pet names.”
You paused, trying to think of something plausible for him. For some reason, the very thought of having to call him baby or sweetheart in public was making you cringe (and you were sure he would too) so you thought of something that he won't mind being called and at the same time showed your closeness.
Before you could tell him your thoughts, the bedroom door opened once again and Joshua walked out (this time fully clothed and dry). He pulled a chair and sat himself opposite to both of you, giving you an awkward smile.
“Let me apologise again. I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable or something.” He said. You shook your head, before giving him your apology too.
“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have stared.” Joshua nodded as though accepting your apology and then pointed at the paper in Jeonghan’s hand. “What are you both up to?”
“We are dating.”
“We are pretending to be a couple”
The two of you said it at the same time, and you felt dumb. You knew Jeonghan and Joshua were best friends but you didn’t expect Jeonghan to tell him this immediately. Letting out an awkward laughter at Joshua, you turned towards Jeonghan who was looking at you surprised.
“I’m sorry, was I not supposed to tell this?” He asked and you quietly grumbled. It wasn’t that you weren’t going to tell Seungkwan either, but you thought maybe it would be after you and Jeonghan had finalised everything and you had sorted your thoughts.
“Er, it’s fine.” You said hastily as Joshua got up to leave. “I think it’s better if you could help us too.” He smiled and sat down, looking excited as though the three of you were planning to pull the greatest prank of all time.
“Joshua’s an expert in this department.” Jeonghan said, and you turned to look at him. His eyes were practically shining as he smiled innocently at his roommate. Looking at him like this, you felt a smile tug at the corner of your lips, something infectious about his childishness.
“What do you mean?”
“He’s just exaggerating.” Joshua said, rolling his eyes. “You know how to flirt as much as I do.”
“Then what do you suggest I should call Y/N?”
“To be honest, I think it would be better if you just call her by her name.” Joshua said, actually thinking hard about it. “Your voice kind of goes soft when you are talking to your loved ones though, so maybe try that instead with Y/N’s name.” 
“Hey Joshua. People call you Josh, right?” You asked very seriously, leaning towards him a bit. He nodded and you continued. “Then should I call you Shua?”
“Hey! We are deciding pet names for each other! Not for you and Joshua!” Jeonghan protested, though he was laughing at your seriousness. Joshua laughed too and gave you a thumbs up, causing you to lean back into the couch, satisfied. 
Then turning towards Jeonghan you said, “Do you mind if I call you Hannie?” 
He cocked his head towards the side as his eyes widened a little. But this time he didn’t look surprised, instead he looked genuinely curious as to why you picked that name, silently urging you to go on.
You felt your cheeks tingle with heat a little at the way he was looking at you attentively, so you quickly took a sip of your water before continuing. “Well, like Joshua said you kind of speak softly with people you are very comfortable with. So I felt…Hannie suited you a lot. I think it’s soft enough to suit you.” You said sheepishly.
“I thought you were calling me Shua?” Joshua interrupted, an evil glint in his eyes. You immediately knew he was going to pull your leg so you decided to play along. “I was joking. I use pet names only for my beloved boyfriend.”
You stressed on the ‘beloved boyfriend’ part and looked at Jeonghan. He was busy scribbling something on the paper but when he heard you accentuate that part, he looked up, eyes flicking between you and Joshua as the whole room stared at him. He looked surprised (this seemed to be the only response you could get out of him today) but nonetheless when his eyes landed on yours, he smiled at you softly.
Sunlight glided into the room through their partially open balcony, throwing light on Jeonghan and giving him almost an angelic glow. His eyes curved into half moons as he smiled at you, his long hair falling in front of his eyes a little. For the first time you noticed how delicate his features were, like he was a beautiful statue but carved in glass. 
You felt your heart stutter a little and you frowned. Looking at the glass of water in your hand, you emptied it one go. Maybe you weren’t drinking enough water? It was afternoon and it had been quite some time since you left your dorm.
“Oh, sorry! I promised you lunch right?” Jeonghan exclaimed, thinking you drank all the water because you were hungry. Before you could respond, he had already gotten up, walking towards some sheafs of pamphlets kept on their tv cabinet. “You like braised chicken, don’t you?”
You blinked at him, surprised. “How did you know that?”
“You always order that when we all eat out.” Jeonghan stated causally. He began flipping all the pamphlets, then finding one particular restaurant’s, he took out his phone and dialled the number. Was Jeonghan always this attentive?
“What about you?” You asked Joshua. He got up and sat beside you. “Jeonghan knows what I usually order. So, can I ask you a question?”
Through the corner of your eyes you saw Jeonghan slip into his bedroom. “Sure, go ahead Shua.”
He grinned at you and leaned in closer, until you could smell the faint scent of his soap. You saw his eyes change to seriousness as his voice dropped a little before asking, “Can I ask why are you and Jeonghan doing this?”
“Oh.” It was out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. Here you thought he was going to either flirt with you or let you in on a serious secret about Jeonghan but instead he asked this. You laughed awkwardly to cover up your flusteredness. What are you thinking, Y/N? You are with Jeonghan now! This isn’t the time to think about his best friend and roommate! “Ah, it’s just that we need an escort to Min Seolah’s party next week so me and Jeonghan decided to pretend we are a couple just so that we can be each other’s escort.”
“Ah, then were you open to anyone you were comfortable with?”
“Yeah, as long as the other person too was comfortable with it. It kind of just popped out of my mouth, to be honest.”
He scrunched his nose a little, as though regretting something. “I wish I was there instead of Jeonghan then.”
You blinked at his words, trying to process what he had just said. Had the Hong Joshua said he wished it was him in a fake relationship with you? Sure the two of you were friends but still, it did nothing to stop the sudden whooping feeling in your stomach.
“Too bad it was me then.”
You turned to see Jeonghan leaning against his door frame, grinning at the two of you indicating that he was joking. Immediately you felt guilt clutch at your throat. You had roped Yoon Jeonghan into your proposition of dating but here you were now, flirting with his close friend. 
Joshua, on the other hand, seemed unfazed about it. If anything, he looked amused as he leaned back into the couch lazily, studying Jeonghan’s expression.
“Anyways, they’ll deliver in half an hour's time. Come on, Y/N. We’ve got a lot to discuss.”
“What else?” He was suddenly so serious that you were taken aback slightly. 
“We need to talk about physical touch and kissing too, of course.”
“Kissing?!” 
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“So did you two discuss about kissing?” Kim Yeri, your roommate, asked as you threw your face into your pillow to muffle your scream.
“No, I ran out of there before we even got started on that topic. Talking about physical touch itself was so embarrassing, I thought I would die if we started talking about kissing. He’s so serious about it. Why did I even suggest such a thing?” 
“Desperate times call for desperate measures, bestie.” Yeri said comfortingly, patting your back.
“I mean, he’s so nice to me. I feel like…I feel like I’m using him or something.”
“Then don’t use him. Use this opportunity to…ah, you know, get a boyfriend.” You glared at the girl sitting on your bed and she winked at you, causing you to get up and smack her lightly with a pillow.
“No way! This is just an act! How shallow am I to fall for a man who agreed to pretend to be my boyfriend?”
Yeri shrugged, as though it wasn’t a big deal. “Happens all the time in movies. Besides, Yoon Jeonghan isn’t that bad, is he? He’s funny, friendly, handsome and smart. He’s so fucking pretty too. Everyone loves his jokes and pranks.”
“Yeah, as long as you aren’t the one getting pranked.” You muttered, eyes darting to your phone. He had told you to message him once you reached and you had done, but he still hadn’t even read it yet. You mulled Yeri’s thoughts in your head. She was right, Jeonghan was pretty. You had always known that but somehow seeing him against the sunlight made you see him in a different light. Quite Literally. 
“So when’s your next date?”
“It’s not a date…” You began, but stopped when Yeri raised an eyebrow at you. “Fine, we are just going shopping to buy some ‘couple’ things.”
“Sounds like a rather cute date to me.”
“Yeri!”
How the rest of the evening and the next day passed by quickly was shocking to you (you wished time passed this quickly during statistics class but no, time and you had to have a beef with time). You had let Seungkwan into your plan and he had also sworn that he wouldn’t tell it to anyone, even if he was being threatened with not being able to drink iced americano for an entire year (a threat you were highly tempted to try out but alas, you loved your best friend too much). But he was a committed best friend. Seungkwan had even written down some points to make your relationship more realistic and you had hastily stuffed it down your coat’s pocket, so that you could show it to Jeonghan later on.
Very soon, you found yourself and Jeonghan seated on the sofa of the high end boutique near to your college, waiting for the attendants to attend to you both. You were a regular customer here due to your trips with Yeri and even sometimes with Seungkwan, so the shop assistant knew you from before. They had greeted you with their usual friendly smile they always gave you, until their eyes landed on Jeonghan, travelling down to your entwined hands.
Jeonghan had insisted that the two of you hold hands when you enter the shop, saying that it would be a practice. At first you were a bit uncertain, but then he reminded you that it was ideal for your boyfriend to take you shopping, and that shop assistants did not gossip much. You were still not sure about it but nonetheless slipped your hand in his.
His bony fingers grasped your gently as he gave you a smile, pulling you into the boutique with him. Despite his hand being cold, you felt your fingers tingle underneath his touch, a sensation you kept feeling even after he had let go of your hand. 
The attendants looked a bit too elated as they ushered you and Jeonghan into a room, telling they’ll be right back to attend the two of you.
Presently, Jeonghan was bobbing his legs beside you, both of your knees brushing against each other slightly. He seemed unfazed by this and so should have been you, but for some reason this made you hyper aware of your both’s closeness. You could smell his cologne, making you realise you had never really gone shopping with another man who wasn’t, well, Seungkwan. 
It also made you wonder whether he had done this before with someone else. He looked so experienced, the way he just casually checked over some of the items displayed, as though he had a habit of buying what caught his eyes for his significant other.
“Have you done this before?” You asked, and he looked at you confused, blinking as though asking you to elaborate. “I mean,” you said after clearing your throat. For some reason you were feeling very awkward asking him this, almost feeling the heat tingle on your cheeks. “Have you gone on a date to the boutique to buy couple clothes?” 
“Ah, no. This is my first time actually.” He said with a soft smile. You felt relief settle in you as you automatically smiled back at him, before catching yourself. What are you doing? You screamed internally, wondering why Jeonghan was so soft with you. 
You realised that the way he smiled and the way he talked to you had always given you this mad urge to melt right then and there in front of him, as though you just couldn't bring yourself to be harsh with him. True, you had yelled at him a few times for cheating (quite blatantly at that) while playing games but it had always ended in laughter and giggles, as though you couldn’t stay angry at him for long.
He gave you the urge to stare at him for hours, studying and etching his features into your brain forever, as though he was a piece you would have to sculpt later on. It amazed you that no matter how many times you looked at him, you always found him beautiful as though it was the first time you had laid your eyes on him.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the shop assistant, asking what the two of you would like.
“Can we get clothes which complement each other? Like even subtly is fine for us.” Jeonghan asked.
Hell, he even had an amazing voice. He was so well mannered that you were sure if you had met Jeonghan at one of your parent’s parties instead, you would have fallen heads over heels with him. 
“Not matching couple clothes?”
“No. Something which complements each other would be better. What do you think, Y/N?”
To be honest, you thought that was a genius idea. In that way, you could even wear the dress after your ‘breakup’, without making things awkward. Leave it to Yoon Jeonghan to sort out everything just perfectly. 
“Yeah, I think that is a brilliant idea too. Oh, we also need to pick your suit and my dress for the party.” You reminded him.
“Do you want to choose for each other?”
“What?” The question had completely caught you off guard. Wasn’t picking dresses for each other something couples did? You both really didn’t need to act as a couple too much here, so why was he suggesting it?
“We don’t have to do it, if you are feeling awkward about it.” He said gently. If Yoon Jeonghan treated you sweetly one more time, you were sure you would start smiling at him like a fool constantly. Then his eyes lit up mischievously and he leaned in, as though about to tell you his biggest secret. “But I do have a great fashion choice.”
You let out a laugh at this, amused that that was what he had wanted to say. Smiling at him you shook your head, indicating that he could choose for you.
“What’s your favourite colour?” He asked, looking at dresses hanging on the hangers being rolled in front of the two of you. 
“I like pink. Or any light shade, actually.” 
“Then how’s this one?” He pointed at one of the pink gowns that had caught your eyes previously, and you nodded eagerly at him.
“I’ll try that out!” You said as you walked into the changing room, glad that both of your tastes had aligned well. Once you were done you stepped out, clearing your throat to get Jeonghan’s attention, who was busy on his phone. He looked up and froze for a second, before his eyes darted all over your figure, checking you out with his mouth slightly open.
You felt your cheeks flush at the way he was looking at you, the way he swallowed and then smiled at you gently. Your stomach fluttered at his action, unable to stop yourself from mirroring his smile. Jeonghan got up and walked over to you, grinning at you as he cocked his head towards the side slightly.
And for some reason, that action made you feel even more giddy.
“How do I look?” You asked, sounding breathless for some reason. Embarrassed, you tried to cover it up by pretending to be excited, and twirling in front of the mirror once to see for yourself.
“You look amazing. Like really, really beautiful.”
He sounded really genuine and you beamed at him, equally happy that both of you chose a dress that suited you very well. You had been called beautiful many times, mostly by men trying to flatter you or your father, but something about the way Jeonghan said it made you shy.
“Should we choose one for you?” You asked once you came back from the changing room, eyeing all the tuxedos that had been brought in now. Jeonghan nodded and you walked over to the rack, searching for one that would bring out his delicate features more beautifully.
“How about this one?” You asked, pointing at a white coloured one. It looked like a conductor’s tuxedo and you felt that it would really go well with his long hair. He nodded and went inside the changing room, while you sat down on the couch, waiting for him to return.
“Y/N?” Someone softly called you, and you looked up to see Jeonghan smiling at you, all dressed up in the outfit you had picked for him. He was just smiling, an expression he gave you quite often and honestly it shouldn’t have had much effect on you, it really shouldn’t. You should have just smiled back, complimented him, paid for your stuff and gone out to eat a round of ice cream that you had promised him.
But instead, it had a great effect on you.
Just Yoon Jeonghan standing there and smiling at you had a huge effect on you. It made time slow down as you felt your heart hammer loudly in your chest, squeezing painfully every now and then. If you hadn't been sitting down your knees might have given away, breath gone for a second as you admired for the millionth time how beautiful he was. 
Because he really was. He looked so handsome, so pretty and so- every adjective that you could think of but couldn’t really because of how goddamned ethereal he looked right now. It was like the suit was tailor made for just him. He looked like a prince straight out from your dreams and it took you all your willpower to stop fluttering in your heart.
Realising you were staring at him for too long, you looked away immediately, releasing a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. Your cheeks burned in shame at the effect he had on you, despite it being just the second time you had hung out with him after deciding to fake your relationship. 
You had known him for quite some time, it wasn’t like the two of you had become friends just yesterday. 
And yet, you felt like you were ‘rediscovering’ Jeonghan. Like his smile for example. Even though you knew he was pretty, nothing prepared you ever for the sudden flutters in your heart everytime he smiled at you. Or the way he smelled a bit too good, when he had come to pick you up earlier, like he had just stepped out of the shower.
“Y/N?” Jeonghan called you, jostling back to the present. His usual angelic smile was now replaced by a smirk, and you groaned internally and cursed yourself for digging up your own grave. Why did you have to stare at him like that? “Do I look so good that I left you speechless?”
“Shut up, Yoon. You look fine.” You emphasised on the ‘fine’, rolling your eyes so that he got your message but that just caused him to grin at you more.
Nope. Nope. There was no way you were developing feelings for Yoon Jeonghan. Definitely not after you knew how sinister he was and definitely not after you asked him to be your fake boyfriend. You didn’t want to inflate his ego by making him think that he could make you fall for him by just literally breathing, all the while he played the act of being your fake date.
Slowly you got up from your seat and walked past him casually, letting the shop owner know that you were ready to pay. 
You were determined to not let Jeonghan’s presence shake you. It’s just for a week, Y/N. After that the two of you can just go back to being friends and this stupid crush you might be developing will go away.
What you didn’t though, was that you were bad at predicting the future. Vey, very bad.
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“Hey, I think both Joshua and Jeonghan have a thing for you. Ever considered being in a poly relationship?” Seungkwan whispered into your ears not-so-subtly.
You glared at him for this scandalous comment before quickly glancing at Jeonghan and Joshua sitting opposite to the two of you. Luckily, they both were busy with their midterm project and were discussing something while comparing notes on their laptops.
The promised ice cream ‘date’ of three days ago had to be cancelled because it had begun raining all of a sudden and neither of you wanted to get wetter than what you were when you ran into the bus stand. So you had promised to take him to the little cafe inside your campus instead, and Joshua and Seungkwan decided to tag along to act as ‘chaperones’, though you weren’t sure what they were chaperoning because both you and Jeonghan had lots of assignments left and had been planning to do your own work.
“Shut up, Boo!” You hissed, never wanting to murder your best friend more than right now. “What if they heard you?”
“What about it? Both of them know that everyone wants to have a threesome with them.”
“Have a threesome with whom?”
You turned to Joshua in horror, feeling embarrassment creep into your cheeks as he eagerly looked between the two of you. Jeonghan on the other hand looked surprised, as though not even sure what the conversation was about.
“Have a threesome with whom? Us?” Joshua asked again, his smile a bit too excited for his own good. You thought he would be uncomfortable with it but instead he looked excited about this conversation, causing you to groan as you buried your face in your hand.
“Stop acting like you don’t know! Don’t rub it on me that the two of you are more handsome than me!” Seungkwan sulked, giving his signature side eye to Joshua. But that just caused Joshua to smile more brightly at him, as though Seungkwan’s misery was his pleasure (which it probably was).
“I’m not rubbing it on you! I might be handsome but there’s no one cuter than you, Seungkwan. Right, Y/N?” You faked a look of disgust and pretended to puke over your drink. Though you wouldn’t admit it out loud, but you were even willing a fight a lion if it disagreed that your best friend was adorable and handsome (you dearly hoped it wouldn’t come down to that situation. The last time all of you went to the zoo, Minghao and Jihoon nearly pushed Soonyoung into the tiger’s den for claiming to be one so you learnt that whatever you told, your friends would try their level best to make it come true).
“Are you two flirting? Is this a double date?” Jeonghan asked, head turning between Joshua and Seungkwan as though he was watching a tennis match. 
“No way, I’m only going to date the person who calls me Shua, no one else.” 
Your eyes widened at his statement and you gulped in a huge amount of your drink, causing you to choke and violently cough. While Seungkwan and Joshua just laughed at you (you were literally dying and of course that would be the immediate response of the people you called friends), Jeonghan looked worriedly at you and reached out to gently pat your hand. You felt your breathing slowly ease down due to his action, and he grabbed your hand in his to gently rub circles with his thumb.
It was a rather small act from a friend who just cared about you. Nothing romantic or intimate at all, and yet you felt a warm fuzzy feeling grow at your heart. He smiled at you gently when you had completely stopped coughing, pouring a cup of water and handing it to you.
You were grateful for the drink and you took in a sip cautiously, your mind still wandering to the now disappearing feeling in your chest. 
Your thoughts were interrupted by the waitress who came to your table, and you recognised her as someone you might have seen talking to your Applied Physics - I professor. She gave you, Seungkwan and Joshua a half-assed smile, but when her eyes landed on Jeonghan, she smiled at him in the most glamorous way ever.
“So what can I get you guys now?” She asked. Miyeon, as her name tag stated, was clearly talking to the entire table yet her eyes were trained only on Jeonghan. You saw him return her smile politely, and you felt your insides churn a little.
Because it was the same smile he always gave you. The same goddamn smile that had you feeling that you were on cloud nine, that made you shy and that same smile that made you feel special.
So he wasn’t doing it just for you? 
You never thought you would ever be jealous over something this trivial. You didn’t even like him in that way and yet, you could almost feel the disappointment clutching at your heart almost a bit too tightly.
It then hit you that the only expression Jeonghan had given you so far was either his look of surprise or a smile, but nothing more than that. Whenever he was hanging out with the entire gang or even now when it was just Joshua, you and Seungkwan, he had been laughing and cracking lots of jokes. But when he was with you all alone, all he did was smile and give you compliments, as though the two of you had just met due to a blind date set up by your parents. 
Did you make Jeonghan that uncomfortable? Was he too nice to say no to your idea back then?
But the Jeonghan you knew wasn’t a pushover, so he must have thought about it a bit before agreeing, right? You are just overthinking everything. You chided yourself. 
Your further thoughts were all stopped when you noticed everyone at the table staring at you. 
“Your order?” Miyeon asked, annoyance evident in her voice.
“Er, I would like to have your Special Strawberry Jam Sandwich. And another cup of coffee please.”
“Got it.” Then turning back towards Jeonghan, she said, “So that’s your order too? Not your regular?”
Jeonghan nodded as the word regular whirled in your brain. He visited this cafe often? Had he- had he lied to you then?
The rest of the meal passed by in a blur, with the three boys doing the most of the talking. You joined in once or twice but mostly stayed to yourself, contemplating hard on what to do next.
It wasn’t that you were crushing on Jeonghan and that was making you sad. It was more like you didn’t want him to feel extremely uncomfortable around you, seeing how he had clearly lied to you about the cafe and treated you just the way he treated any other person on the street.
Soon it was time to leave and the four of you walked out of the cafe. But before you could part ways with the boys, Jeonghan grabbed your arm and stopped you.
“I want to talk to you.” He said and you nodded, realising that it would be better if even you got all your questions cleared up. Through the corner of your eyes you saw Seungkwan take out his phone and hastily type down something, and felt your phone vibrate almost immediately after he hit the send button.
Taking out your phone you checked his message, feeling a smile tug at the corner of your lips. 
[uriboo]: if yoon jeonghan tries anything funny, just send sos. no matter where i am, i’ll kick his ass using my special kick reserved for soonyoung only.
You gave him a thumbs up and waved him goodbye, watching Joshua and Seungkwan’s retreating figures disappear round the corner. It was almost evening by now and the sky had turned a light shade of orangish pink. You stared it for some time until you felt Jeonghan tug you once more.
“Come on. Let’s talk there.” He asked, pointing at one of the benches farther away from the walking path. “No one will hear us there.” You nodded and followed him, sitting down beside him. A few moments passed as the two of you just watched students walk by, neither of you taking the lead to start the conversation.
“Are you okay?” Jeonghan asked after some time, and you turned to look at him dryly.
“I’m…fine. Okay, I guess. Just a bit tired.”
“No…what’s wrong? Did someone say something? Did I hurt you?”
There he went again.
You turned to glare at him but the look of concern on his face was enough to stop you. He looked really worried for you, and even reached out to grab your hand and give it a squeeze. You gulped to stop the way your heart fluttered at his actions, reminding yourself of what you had to ask him.
“Why…why did you lie to me?” You asked, swallowing thickly once more so that you didn’t sound hurt. But your voice still sounded strangled, and if Jeonghan had noticed it, he didn’t show it.
“Are you talking about the cafe?” He asked gently, and you nodded slowly.
“When I said I would take you out to a new place and mentioned its name too, you didn’t tell me you already went there. The waitress mentioned that you were a regular there!” It almost sounded like you were whining by this point.
Jeonghan blinked at you once, twice and then burst out laughing. “Is that what is bothering you?”
Pulling your hand away from his, you swatted his arm lightly, feeling hurt at his reaction. “It’s not funny! I literally gushed to you about the strawberry sandwich, saying that if you tried it you would forget every other sandwich when you had probably tried it a million times before. Do you know how embarrassing it is? It's so embarrassing that I bragged about something you already knew, it makes me look like a show off.”
“Ah, but I had never actually tried the strawberry sandwich before.” He said, taking your hand in his again. “I really had never tried it before, which is why I didn’t say anything. Besides, you looked so cute when you were talking about the cafe and I really didn’t want you to stop.”
You froze a little, taken aback by his last statement. Quickly, you tried to change the subject, hoping he wouldn’t notice the sudden heat forming on your cheeks.
“I-I- Okay. I-I have a few more questions to ask, if you don’t mind. Or…you can go first about whatever you wanted to talk about.”
“Go ahead. I finished asking mine. I just wanted to know what’s wrong with you.” 
“Oh.” So it was the typical Jeonghan-cares-for-you question. “Er, are you and the waitress close? Um, what’s her name? Miyeon?”
“Not that close.” He replied nonchalantly. “She had helped me with some physics homework once, that’s all. And oh, also because I visit the cafe regularly.”
“I think she likes you.”
“Yeah me too.” He smirked when you stared at him. “Jealous?”
“Jealous of whom? You?” You countered back, keeping your expression as neutral as you could. You weren’t, couldn’t be jealous and you weren’t going to show him that you were either. He laughed at your comeback and you felt yourself smile, feeling pleased that he had enjoyed your retort. 
“Point. Miyeon is pretty. But just so you know, she had asked me today whether I could hang out with her sometime later.”
“When did this happen? What did you say?” Even though you knew Jeonghan probably said yes, you still wanted to hear the answer from him.
“I said you were my girlfriend, what else? It happened when you had gone to the bathroom and she got the bill to the table. She then even asked why were you sitting beside Seungkwan if you were my girlfriend.”
“And what did you guys say then?”
“Seungkwan said ‘bros before hoes’.”
You rolled your eyes, questioning yourself why you even thought your best friend might have given a smart answer. “Of course he did. Can I ask you one more question?”
“You are asking an awful lot of questions, aren’t you?” He smiled at you, his eyes glinting in a teasing manner.
“It’s the last one! Please, Hannie?”
It was the first time you were using the nickname and you could swear you saw him tense for a fraction of a second. Then it was gone as soon as it had come. Instead, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, indicating you to go. You had almost forgotten that the two of you were still holding hands, and this squeeze seemed to suddenly liven the atmosphere around the two of you, as though reminding you of his presence.
“Do you…find it uncomfortable to be with me?”
His smile faltered, clearly caught off guard by your question.
“I mean, do I make you feel uncomfortable? Like…did you say yes to being my boyfriend just because you didn’t want to refuse me and make me feel bad or-”
“Why would I do that? Shit, do I act like that around you? You aren’t someone new Y/N. You have been my friend for quite some time. Why would I feel uncomfortable around you? And I didn’t say yes because I felt bad for you. We both needed escorts and that’s why I said yes.”
“Then why do you act so differently when you are around me?” You asked, releasing your hand from his grasp. “Like, like you always look like you are enjoying yourself when we are with our friends but whenever it's just the two of us, you act just so sweet and nice. That’s about it. Just- just sweet and nice. Like how you are to Miyeon.”
He didn’t say anything for a while, as though thinking before answering your question.
“It’s not that I don’t like you Y/N. And I definitely didn’t say yes because I thought you were pathetic or something. Really. It’s just that…I don’t know how this works either.”
“How does what work?” You asked, your voice much softer than you expected. Jeonghan leaned in to you a bit closer, and for the first time you saw him beyond the smiles and jokes he made. He looked tired, really tired as though this act was wearing him out too.
“I-I’m not sure what kind of boyfriend you want. I’m not sure whether I should treat you like a friend and crack jokes about the most useless thing or treat you like a princess like your boyfriend probably would. I don’t know how much to step out of the line of being friends. I don’t know what is the line that oversteps from fake boyfriend to real boyfriend. I…just don’t know what to do most of the time.”
This time, you took his hand in yours, giving them a gentle squeeze. He looked up at you and you smiled softly at him, trying to ease down all the pressure he had been feeling for the past few days. 
You were such an idiot. How could you expect him to act normally when you had just dumped a huge burden over his shoulder?
“Jeonghan…it’s okay. You are doing great, you know that? And sometimes, when I look at you, I wish I could be more like you. You don’t need to treat me as your girlfriend, really. Like I said, I would never want to make you feel uncomfortable. Just treat me as a friend, okay? And if you ever want to stop, just tell me. I’ll always be there for you.”
He gulped and nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact even once. Your heart gave a painful squeeze when he still didn’t look away, all of a sudden feeling that your entire surrounding had melted away.
You could only feel his soft gaze on you, almost feeling raw and exposed and yet, even you couldn’t look away.
“I would never leave you.” Jeonghan whispered, almost mumbling as he finally tore away his gaze. 
“Why? Is this arrangement proving to be useful to you too?” You joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Yeah it did help me escape from Miyeon.”
“So I’m your scapegoat now?” You asked scandalously, letting go of your hands so that you could grab him by the shoulder and glare properly. He grinned at you, back to his playful nature. You felt your heart swell by the way he giggled, the infectious laughter causing you to smile too despite trying to sound mad at him.
“Hey, aren’t friends supposed to protect each other like that?”
“Not- not- I- okay whatever!”
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“Er, do you see Seungkwan?” You asked Yeri, eyes scanning the crowd for your best friend. The loud noise from the booming speaker was making it almost impossible to hear your roommate, so you turned to her, only to find yourself standing alone in a crowd of drunk bodies. You groaned internally as Yeri was your designated driver today, and you prayed that wherever she went, she wouldn't end up drunk like she had last time.
Byun Baekhyun, a senior known for his loudness and great ambition to wreck chaos wherever he went had decided to throw a party for the first years as a celebration for completing the first term without losing their sanity (which was clearly a lie; you were close to losing your mind). 
“How am I supposed to find anyone- Hey! Yuna!” Grabbing the hands of the said girl, you felt familiarity rush in when she turned to you and gave you a smile.
“Hey, Y/N. You look great. Dressed up for someone special?”
“As if. Have you seen Seungkwan anywhere? I just can’t find him.”
At this she snickered. “Seungkwan? Are you sure you are searching for him?”
You frowned at her. When she saw that you didn’t understand what she was indicating, she smiled at you and beckoned you to come closer. “Are you sure,” she whispered in your ear, the slight smell of alcohol wafting to your nose, “you aren’t looking for Jeonghan?”
You drew back from her sharply, all of a sudden feeling hot. How does she know? Does word travel that fast? Of course it does. When Yuna saw that you didn’t say anything, she let out a laugh and patted your shoulder before pointing at the corner.
Giving her a tight lipped smile, you followed the direction of her finger though you weren’t really sure whether she had pointed to Seungkwan or Jeonghan.
“Thank god!” You exhaled, when you saw Seungkwan and Chan sitting on a couch in the corner of the room, and you quickly slipped in between them. 
“Thank God for what?” Seungkwan asked.
“Nothing. Yuna’s drunk. Where are the others?” You asked, taking a sip of the solo cup Seungkwan had just handed you. You found it odd that it was just Seungkwan, Chan and you here because usually your entire gang of friends used to stick together to have fun at parties.
“Ah, that.” Chan snickered. “Your boyfriend might or might not have caused a little bit of a problem.”
“What? What happened?” You asked, turning your head to look at Seungkwan and Chan alternatively. To say you weren’t concerned would be a lie. And it was definitely not because Jeonghan was your faux boyfriend.
“Er, so Jeonghan might or might not have got his toy sword and wooden hammer with him to the party-” Seungkwan began.
“He got what?”
“You know, his toy sword-”
“I knew about his toy sword but not his wooden hammer.”
“It's for self defence against bad guys at night, apparently.” Chan added, causing you to groan. 
“What happened then?”
“I think someone made some comment about you and he decided as your boyfriend, mind you the entire college knows now, he had to defend your honour. He even gave the opponent his wooden hammer because he wasn’t armed.” Seungkwan finished, calmingly taking a sip of his drink like it was completely natural for Jeonghan to fight for your honour.
You looked at Chan incredulously and he too had the same expression. “He’s joking right?”
“Jeonghan was drunk. Like really, really drunk when it started.”
“How did he get this drunk so quickly?”
“Sweetheart, the party started an hour ago. Not everyone remembers their incomplete inorganic homework five minutes before leaving.” Seungkwan stated, causing you to glare at him.
“So where are the others?”
“Well, the challenge was made just before you came and Jeonghan went upstairs to ‘duel’. Seungcheol, Mingyu, Minghao and  Seokmin followed him upstairs to stop him while the rest followed him to egg on him.”
Chan got up, followed by you and Seungkwan. “We were just waiting for you. I bet your lover boy is dying to see your face.”
“Shut up Chan.” Your face was practically burning by now. But this was what you had wanted, right? To make everyone think you both were a couple? “Please tell me we are going upstairs so that both of you can join the team that stops him and not eggs on him?”
Seungkwan gave you a dirty look. “How low do you think we are? Of course we are going to egg him on.”
“Fucking hate you all.”
Luckily, upstairs wasn’t that crowded but it still took the three of you some pushing around to reach the centre. The scene that met your eyes nearly turned you blood cold. The other guy, you recognised him as a senior from your major, had Jeonghan on his knees as he gripped his shirt collar. He was yelling profanities at Jeonghan, but he was too out to even listen to him. You saw that his lip had split open and his right eye looked bruised.
“Why aren't you stopping him?” You hissed to Seungcheol. You noticed that even though all your friends were there, none of them were cheering for the fight to continue. In fact, they all looked scared now
.
“We can’t. He’s a senior and he said- he said if we stop him then he’s going to hurt Jeonghan more!” Seungcheol himself looked terrified and you gritted your teeth angrily. It was true. If a senior ragged you, there was nothing you could do except accept your fate.
You heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh; loud, and both you and Seungcheol turned to see Jeonghan on the floor, the senior’s hand balled in a fist. At that moment, something snapped inside you and you found yourself walking towards him.
“Y/N, wait-” Seungkwan began worriedly but it was too late. Everything happened so fast but all you vaguely remembered was yanking the senior by hair and landing a slap on his cheeks. Since he was drunk that slap was enough to cause him to lose his balance, and you just shoved him into the ground.
Turning around, you picked up Jeonghan’s sword and hammer before turning to the groaning boy. Gently tugging one arm over your shoulder, you tried pulling him up. It was a bit hard, considering he was drunk and hurt and using you completely as support, but then his weight lightened on you and you turned to see Joshua slinging his other arm around his neck.
“Let me help you.” He muttered. The crowd parted away easily and before you knew it, the three of you were outside. It was a bit hard dragging Jeonghan all the way to the dorm and the only reason you managed to do it was because Joshua was bearing his maximum weight. 
Finally, you reached their room and pulled Jeonghan onto his bed. The two of you sat down beside him, trying to catch your breaths. Glancing at Jeonghan’s resting figure, you felt your heart clench painfully. 
Moonlight streamed into the room, lighting up his face in an almost angelic glow and yet the blows he had received were painfully visible.
“Thank you.” You heard Joshua mutter, and you looked up at him. He too was looking at Jeonghan sadly, as though he had been punched too. Then he looked at you and gave you a soft smile. “Thank you for stepping up.”
“It’s nothing.” You huffed. “I just did what I had to do for a friend. I’m not blaming you guys though!”
“Still. It was a really brave thing to do. But are you sure about that?”
“About what?”
Joshua leaned in until your faces were just a few inches apart. You tried backing away but the headboard hit you and you were left with no space to move. He smirked at you before speaking. 
“Are you sure about Jeonghan being, you know, just a friend?”
You stared at him with your mouth slightly open, slowly thinking of what he had said.
Jeonghan was a friend, right? You had come in terms with him a few days ago and had convinced yourself that he was a friend. You would step into a fight for any of your friends, right?
A groan from beside you interrupted your thoughts and both of you turned to see Jeonghan staring at you with half opened eyes. 
“Y/N.” He whispered your name with a small smile, wincing almost immediately when the cut on his lips stung. His eyes travelled along your body before it landed on Joshua. He frowned at the said man, as though trying to comprehend something.
“Joshua.”
“Nice to meet you too.”
He blinked several times before staring at something between the two of you. Then he tried getting up by propping up his elbows which gave away immediately, causing his head to land on your lap instead. You stiffened at the closeness but figured he was too drunk and hurt to even overthink this situation.
“Why are you two always so close? Everytime I’m gone, the two of you are almost always together.” He sounded almost hurt. You tried making sense of what he meant by that but Joshua just laughed.
Getting up, he said, “I’ll leave the two of you alone. If he tries something, call me. I’ll be in my bedroom. Oh also, try thinking about what I told you before.” Giving you a wink, he exited the room, closing the door behind him.
“What did he tell you?” Jeonghan asked, turning on your lap so that he was facing you now. His hair was sticking to his forehead due to the sweat, the jet black colour appearing almost dark blue under the moonlight. You hissed when you saw his wounds up close, gently brushing his hair away from his face.
He caught your wrist as his eyes fluttered open, staring at you before repeating his question. “What did Joshua tell?”
“Nothing, you idiot. Jeonghan, why the hell did you get into a fight? Do you know where you keep your medicines? I’ll get them-”
“No.” His grip on your hand tightened as he brought it over his chest, clasping it with his both hands now. “He made fun of you.”
Maybe it was the way he said it with so much hurt in his voice or maybe it was the way he looked like a prince underneath the moonlight, but you felt your breath catch your throat. Your heart gave a painful squeeze and then stuttered, as you watched his gentle features stare back at you softly.
It felt like time had stopped as you stared at Yoon Jeonghan lying on your lap, realising how beautiful he was. And no, it wasn’t like the other times you had realised it. This time, it felt painful, as though he had sucked out all your breath and had caused your heart to swell with this overwhelming emotion. 
It made you feel good, and you felt yourself craving for that feeling more.
“That doesn’t mean you’ll get into a fight with everyone. Look how hurt you are, Hannie.” You whispered softly. To be honest you weren’t sure why you were whispering, but as you gently stroked his hair with your free hand, it felt right talking to him softly.
He let out a harsh breath as he slowly raised on hand towards your face, causing you to freeze. You felt his fingers ghost your lips, and you almost leaned in to feel his touch. You felt your stomach lurch when your eyes met his, that feeling in your heart growing stronger as he refused to touch you yet.
“Love it when you call me that.” His voice had dropped an octave, and you nearly let out a squeak at his sudden sultry voice. Finally, you felt his long slender fingers grasp at your chin and his thumb brushed against your lips, giving you the contact your body was almost burning for. Your eyes fluttered close as he gently ran his thumb over your lips. “Love it so much I would give up ‘most everything to get you to call me that.”
You are drunk. He’s even more drunk. What do you think you are doing?
Your eyes snapped open at that realisation and you jerked away from his touch, his hand just falling limply to his side.
“We are drunk, Han- Jeonghan. We shouldn’t- I shouldn’t be doing this to you.” You told him as softly as you could, gently sliding his head off your lap onto the pillow. He had fallen asleep and now the only sound in the room that could be heard was his breathing; and the abnormally loud hammering of your heart. 
Slowly, you covered him with his blanket and kept his toy sword and hammer beside him before you snuck out of his room. Then closing the door behind you, you rested your back against it, taking a moment to catch your breath and calm down your racing heart.
If you weren’t sure about it before, you definitely were now. It was glaringly obvious to you, no matter how much you tried to push your feelings away.
You were in love with Yoon Jeonghan. 
It’s fine. You thought to yourself. I just need to pretend I don’t have feelings for him until tomorrow. Once we go about our own ways, I can bawl my eyes out to Seungkwan.
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“Miss?” The maid asked cautiously, and you looked at her annoyed, silently asking her to go on. “Your escort, Mr. Yoon, is here.” 
Wordlessly you got up, glancing at the mirror one last time to check your gloves and hair. Annoyance creeped into your features when you realised it didn’t even matter actually. Then you walked out of your house, making sure you shut the door behind you with a bang.
Walking out into the garden of your parent’s manor, you saw Jeonghan waiting for you, leaning against the limousine. His face broke into a grin when he saw you approaching, but it faltered when he realised you weren’t exactly smiling back at him.
“Hey.” He said, as he opened the door for you to enter.
“Hi.” You said curtly, bunching up your gown in the most careless manner and getting in the car, shutting the door before he could. He wordlessly got in through the other side, indicating the chauffeur to start.
A few minutes of silence passed before he spoke.
“Is…something wrong?”
You turned to glare at him, expecting him to look annoyed at your annoying attitude. Or even confused. But instead, he looked concerned.
Immediately you felt bad at being angry at him for something he didn’t even do. 
No. It wasn’t that you felt bad, it was more like his worried look had thrown you off your anger, feeling tears sting your eyes instead now.
“You can tell me about it. Or you don’t have to. But I’m all ears, anytime you need me.” Gently, he took your hands in his and gave it a squeeze, smiling at you softly. 
“I- Just- You look good today.” You choked out, trying to change the subject without looking too pathetic in front of him. How down bad were you for him that one worried glance caused you to break the dam of emotion that had been building up since morning.
But it was true. He did look good. The suit made him look more ethereal, and it did nothing to stop your heart from accelerating at that speed. 
His lips pulled into a smile, You noticed that his lips had almost healed, and the cut couldn’t really be seen unless you stared at it (which you definitely weren’t; because why would you stare at him?) 
“What can I say? I’m so pretty that I look good at everything.”
“Or I have a great choice of clothing.”
Jeonghan laughed and counter argued, but you were too busy staring at the way he laughed to listen to his banter. The way he displayed his teeth every time he smiled and the way his eyes crinkled at the corner when he laughed seemed to be pulling at your heartstrings. And the fact that he was gently rubbing circles on your hand with his thumb, sending electricity through your arm.
“I could help lighten whatever’s causing a frown on that pretty face of yours.”
His flirty comment brought you back to the present, quickly turning your head away to stare at the buildings speeding past the two of you instead. You felt the bitterness come back but it was much less than before as Jeonghan had helped you feel much light hearted.
“You’ll see once you reach there.” You muttered, and through the corner of your eyes you saw Jeonghan nod. The car came to a halt in front of a mansion, indicating that you had arrived at your destination.
“Y/N this is your last chance.” Jeonghan said. You blinked at him in confusion. “This is your last chance to change your partner to Joshua.”
Suppressing the laughter threatening to escape from you, you pretended to think. “Well…so far it’s still a no. But if I see Shua looks more handsome than you…then well, I can’t guarantee you I’ll be sleeping with you tonight.”
There was a rule of elite parties that required couples to sleep in for the night, which was why you had wanted to choose a familiar face in the first place.
Jeonghan pouted at you and you laughed, but immediately caught yourself when you felt your heart flutter. You couldn’t let this feeling grow. The two of you were just actors in a play and actors could never fall in love with each other.
Two of you walked over to your assigned room and only then did you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. You had met just a few people on your way here and the two of you had responded to all of them with small smiles, and you were greatly aware of Jeonghan’s arm around your waist.
“What do you want to do now?” Jeonghan, already lying down on the double bed. You narrowed your eyes as he kicked off his shoes and wrapped the blanket around himself. “What?” He asked when he saw you. “I’m tired, okay? Just wake me up half an hour before the party starts so that I can look a bit more presentable.”
“Okay? I, uh, I’m just going to look around, okay?” Saying that, you switched off the light for him and slipped out, wondering where you should go next. You vaguely remembered a fountain in one of the gardens from the one time you had come here with your parents and decided to search for it.
It took you some time but eventually (after a lot of checking through balconies whether it was the correct side of the garden) you managed to find it. But as you reached there, you saw someone already seated on its edges. You couldn't make out who it was, so you decided to leave. You stopped on your tracks and took a step back, only to step on a twig.
The twig snapped with a loud thwack! which was heard loud and clear in the silent garden. The boy sitting turned to look at you, his expression changing from shock to happiness as he recognised you.
“Y/N.” Joshua greeted you, patting at the stone beside him. “Come and join me.”
Knowing you were trapped, you had no other option but to go and sit down beside him. Not that you didn’t like his companion but you really didn’t want to lash out your anger at another innocent soul.
“Hi.”
“You look pretty.” Joshua commented, to which you just smiled. The words that he had told you yesterday seemed to ring in your head now. Did he mean this? About your feelings towards Jeonghan?
“Joshua?” You asked, clearing your throat. “Yesterday…what did you mean by that?”
“It’s no fun if I tell you. Did you think about it?” The familiar mischievous glint was back in his eyes. 
“I did…a little.”
“Then you know what I’m talking about-”
“I don’t like him.” You cut him off and then upon seeing his amused look, you added, “Not in that way. He’s just a friend who agreed to help me. I don’t have feelings for him at all.” 
“Well…everyone can tell you both are perfect for each other. No one even doubts for a second that the two of you aren’t.”
You just sighed, fluttering your eyes close as you let the night breeze calm you down a little. It’s okay. You thought to yourself. Everything will be okay once he isn’t pretending to be your boyfriend anymore. Once he is gone, these feelings would go too.
Yes. That was it. Maybe you were too immersed in your role of pretending and had let your emotions take control of you. Maybe you had thought that pretending to have feelings for him would make this much easier on both of you.
A small part of you kept screaming that lying to yourself won’t change this situation, but that didn’t stop you from saying your next line as you opened your eyes to look at the man sitting next to you with a smile.
“There’s nothing between the two of us. We are just…tryna do what lovers do.” 
You remembered how Jeonghan had used you as a scapegoat to turn down Miyeon. Yes, that was the main purpose, wasn’t it? This whole relationship was built on a lie, just meant to be used and thrown for such situations.
“Joshua? Y/N?”
You froze at the familiar voice and judging from Joshua's expression, even he wasn’t expecting it. You turned back to see Jeonghan looking at the two of you. He was smiling but there was something off about it. 
Joshua got up and walked up to him, before leaning in to whisper something in Jeonghan’s ear. Then waving you a goodbye, he walked off, leaving you and Jeonghan all alone. Jeonghan came and sat down beside you, though he maintained a little distance.
“Did you- did you overhear our conversation?” You asked, confused at this sudden change in behaviour.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “What’s there to overhear? I already know that. I already know that we are doing this for show.” He spoke curtly and you frowned.
Did you hurt him by any chance? But what you said was the truth, right?
“Are you okay? Did I say something?”
He let out a hollow laugh, before forcing a smile at you. “No, it’s not you. It’s all my fault really. It’s all my fault that this is happening and I’m sorry about it.”
“Jeonghan, you are acting weird.”
“Says the one who wouldn’t explain why she’s been mad the entire evening.”
“It’s my parents, okay?” You snapped, getting up and standing in front of him. He seemed taken aback by this sudden outburst but at this point, you really didn’t care. “They aren’t even coming today! All this drama I went through, all this stupid worry I had in my head at the end of the day meant nothing! I only agreed to come to this party because my parents would have been there but of course they decided to go to Switzerland today itself without telling me! 
I wouldn’t have even bothered asking you to be my escort if it weren’t for them. We would have been leading our own lives quietly but now I'm in this mess with you because of this stupid party! It’s so hard to play pretend that sometimes I just wish you would disappear!”
The last line slipped out of your mouth before you had even realised and you only stopped yourself when you saw Jeonghan’s expression.
You had stepped out of the line.
“I- I- Okay, I didn’t mean you to disappear! I mean, not because of that.”
Jeonghan wordlessly got up, his face all of a sudden so cold that you almost could hear your heart break. How could you do this? How could you do this to him? His eyes which usually used to hold a million emotions that you would associate with happiness were now empty as they stared back at you with contempt.
He opened his mouth to speak but closed it almost immediately, as though figuring out it was better to keep quiet than argue with you.
“I see. Well, I’m sorry I made you feel uncomfortable Y/N. I’ll leave for now but don’t worry, I’ll still pretend to be your escort for today. And then you don’t need to hang out with me that much in college. A week later, or wherever you feel like you don’t need me at all, we’ll just break up. Okay? I’m sorry for everything. Like I said, it’s all my fault.”
With that he walked away from you, your attempt to grab his sleeves fruitless.
“Jeonghan, wait! I didn’t mean it like that!” You yelled after him, but he didn’t look back at you even once. “I’m sorry, Jeonghan! I really am!”
You felt tears sliding down your cheeks as the frustration that had been building up finally broke through you. 
“Yoon Jeonghan! Do you even remember what happened yesterday?”
At this he stopped and turned back to you. His mouth fell open at your teary face but he didn’t take a single step to approach you.
“I’m asking you! Do you even remember what happened yesterday?”
He looked unsure how to answer that. After a while, he took a gulp and replied a soft ‘no’.
You closed your eyes, feeling the tears continue to flow. 
It hurt. It hurt so much that you wished your heart would stop beating. Maybe then, you would stop loving Jeonghan. Maybe then you would be able to move on from this relationship easily.
“What happened? Did I do-”
“Just leave, Hannie. Just leave.”
You saw him wince when you called him that but by now you were too tired to care, opting to sink onto the ground instead of dealing with what was in front of you. 
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It had been a week. Exactly a week without texts, a week without meeting up with Jeonghan unless it was your entire friend group, a week without holding hands and a week until you finally called him.
You had thought that maybe doing all of this would completely remove him from your head, that it would be much easier to move on by pretending that your feelings were because of being so close to him.
But if anything, your love for Yoon Jeonghan had seemed to grow. He was the only thing in your mind constantly as you thought about his antics and jokes. You missed his smile and the way he would hold your hands gently. You missed everything about Jeonghan but there was nothing you could do about it, especially not after how the two of you had very obviously fucked up your friendship (neither of you had even attended the party after that; the two of you just claimed that you were tired and left).
Not that anyone even noticed. Everyone still thought you two were a couple, and it took all of your willpower not to burst into tears whenever someone mentioned Jeonghan in front of you. Of course, Seungkwan knew. And you were sure Joshua knew too. But apart from that, no one had even questioned why the air seemed so stale whenever the two of you were together.
Which brought you to your present call.
“Hello?” A groggy voice on the other side of the line had you nearly jumping off your bed, as you grabbed the phone delicately near your ear, as though you might have been hearing things.
“Uh, hi. It’s me, Y/N.” Your heart still raced at the sound of his voice and you hoped you didn’t sound as squeaky as a twelve year old talking to their crush for the first time.
A pause.
Then he chuckled. “I know, I can see your caller ID.” 
Jeonghan had acted nonchalantly with you in front of everyone, like you hadn't just hurt his feelings by asking him to disappear. But you had thought that maybe he would be different when the two of you were alone, cold and distant since you had practically thrown his kindness onto his face.
“Hahah, yeah, yeah. Sorry, I forgot.” You muttered, embarrassed at the way you were acting. Your cheeks were feeling hot and you were glad that he couldn’t see you know.
“So what do you want?”
The words were like a slap to you, but you knew very well that you deserved that. That’s what your relationship had boiled down to. Just to fulfil each other’s needs.
“Um, my parents know about us.” You muttered.
“What?” He asked, as though he hadn’t heard you clearly the first time. You could hear the slight rise in his voice.
“My parents…they know about us and…you know how dating is in our world. They think I’m seeing you as a potential life partner for later on.”
“Do you want me to come over?” He asked softly, and something inside you broke.
“I- I- don't know what to do Hannie.” you felt tears stream down your cheeks. “I don't want you to think that I’m using you, not after what I told you. I shouldn’t even be asking you to cover for me anymore. I hate myself for that so much. But I really don’t know what to tell my parents-”
“Hey.” He hushed you. “I’ll be there, okay? When do you want me to come over?”
“Can you- can you come over for lunch?”
“I’ll be there for sometime before lunch then. Just wait a little, okay?” 
True to his word, Jeonghan showed up to your house half an hour before lunch time. The minute your maids had informed you that he was here, you had rushed downstairs to pull him into your bedroom without your parents noticing.
Locking the door behind you, you leaned your back against it to catch your breath. Your eyes flicked up to meet his worried ones, and you felt the familiar warmth rush back to your chest. 
“Jeonghan I-” You began but stopped when he held your hand that was clutching his sleeves. You thought he was trying to remove it but instead clasped it in his both hands. The huge apology that you had prepared in your head vanished, and all you could was stare at him with tears pricking your eyes once more.
“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” You whispered, your voice almost broken. Finding yourself alone with him for the first time after the incident seemed to have done something to you. All you could think of was getting him back. “I’m so sorry for all the things I told you.”
He stared at you for a few seconds, before dropping his eyes to your entwined hands. “It’s fine. It’s my fault you felt like that-”
“I wanted you to disappear because everytime I’m with you, I feel like I’m failing to just pretend you are my boyfriend.” You cut him off, taking a step closer to him. Your toes were now brushing each other’s and he looked up at you confused, as though he could not believe what he had just heard.
Taking a deep breath, you continued. “I know- I know that you might hate me after this because I’m- because I’m just misusing your goodness. But I’m in love with you Hannie. I like you so much that it drove me crazy trying to keep things the way it was between us. I had hoped maybe that after our fight I would forget you but instead I kept wanting you more. And I hated the fact that I hurt you. I hated-”
“Shh.” He whispered, taking both of your hands in his. He jerked you closer to him, until your noses were just a few inches apart. You were so close to him that you could smell the cologne lingering on him and see the black flecks in his soft brown eyes. His warm gaze was turning your knees to putty and you grasped his hand more tightly to steady yourself. “Don’t- Don’t ever say that, okay? Because I love you so much I can’t bear to see you crumbling like this, hating yourself for something that wasn’t even your fault. I love you so much that it’s okay if you don’t want me if I’m hurting you or making you uncomfortable.”
Taking a deep breath in harshly, you blinked at him as you tried to clear your brain.
Jeonghan…loved you too. He loved you.
When you didn’t say anything, Jeonghan covered the little distance between the two of you by pressing his lips against yours. You felt yourself melt into his touch, hands now clutching his biceps to steady yourself.
He pushed you against the door to press against your body better, his hands squeezing your hips gently. Jeonghan’s lips were soft against yours, kissing you feverishly as though you might disappear if he stopped to even catch his breath. 
You felt all rational thoughts leave your body when your teeth accidentally grazed against his lower lip, causing him to groan in your mouth. One hand cupped your cheek, tilting your face to get better access to your lips. 
His frantic kisses moved towards your ears, starting from the corner of your lip, to your cheek and finally to the soft skin right below your ear.
“Hannie.” You whispered softly, gripping his hair tightly as he sucked on the soft skin, kissing, biting and licking the same spot. You realised that the only thing supporting your jelly legs was the door and his grip on your waist, but you couldn’t even tell him to stop because of the euphoric feeling in your heart.
God, you loved him so, so much.
You tugged at his hair gently, causing him to stop doing what he was doing to look at you, and you threw your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug. He didn’t even falter for a second and immediately wrapped his arm around you, engulfing you in his warmth.
“I love it when you call me Hannie.” He whispered, kissing your ear softly. You felt yourself smile, giving him a squeeze as you felt your heart might explode out of happiness. 
“And I love you.”
Pulling away from him, you mirrored his smile, his soft gaze making you feel giddy like always. “But Hannie..” You began, and he cut you off with a quick kiss on your lips. 
“Hmmm?”
“I had really wanted to dance with you that day.”
“Is that so?” He hummed, his eyes shining with the familiar devilish glint. “Then should we dance after I tell your parents you are officially my girlfriend?”
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A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!    
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© 𝐆𝐘𝐔-𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑  
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688 notes · View notes
leilakisakabiri · 10 months
Note
request: Hi can you do where the reader is wearing Gavis hoodie and she accidentally stains it and starts freaking out. Thank uuu and i love ur writing
I Got You (Gavi)
Summary: You need Gavi to come help you after you get yourself into a bad situation.
Warning(s): None
A/N: Thank you so much for the request and for your support! Requests are open. Currently working on The Promises We Keep Pt 2. Also, guys if I haven't done your request yet, don't worry, it probably means it's gonna be a long one.
Word Count: 3.1k+
Masterlist
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It was a Saturday night in Barcelona, and you were holed up in your room, feet tucked under you, a knitted blanket over your shoulders as you read over the words in front of you for the hundredth time.
While the city was alight with people getting drinks, dancing, and laughing, you silenced your phone, closed your blinds, and put your headphones on to quiet any outside noises. 
You had decided to stay in this weekend, caught up in writing an essay for your criminal law class that was worth 50% of your grade. Safe to say you did not take it lightly. You had been hunched over your computer for the last nine hours, brain numb and fingers aching as you had tried to come up with a thesis and strong argument for your essay. You had blocked out this weekend to finish the essay, letting everyone know ahead of time not to contact you unless it was an emergency, including Gavi. 
Gavi had been gone for the last couple of days, traveling around Europe for the last leg of La Liga, and he had been adamant about spending as much time with you as he could once he got back - before his summer schedule kicked off. However, that hope was quickly cut short when you informed him you most likely wouldn’t be able to see him at all this weekend due to you being stuck finishing your essay. 
Although he had tried to convince you to change your mind, bribing you with the idea of endless cuddles and then promising to be as silent as possible while you wrote when his first idea didn’t work, you relented, knowing that having him around would be a major distraction, one that you couldn’t afford. 
“I’m sorry Pablo I don’t think I can this weekend. What about Monday?” You asked hopefully. 
He sighed over the phone, his face pulling into a frown, “I can’t. We’re leaving Monday morning for France.”
You bit on your lip, feeling bad, “I’m sorry I just really need to focus this weekend.” 
He nodded, “I get it. It just sucks. I wanted to see you at least once before I’m gone again. But it’s fine – I’ll survive.” He replied dramatically. 
You grinned, “Well I’ll miss you Pablito.” 
“I already miss you.” 
The smile on your face only grew as your heart warmed at his words, “I’ll text you if anything changes. Have a great game, I’ll be watching.” 
He gave you a wink, “Damn gotta show off now that my girls watching.” 
You giggled at him, “Bye Pablo.” 
He mocked your tone playfully, “Bye Y/n.” 
That was last week, and now you were nose deep in your essay, textbooks scattered around you as you looked for possible quotes to strengthen your thesis. You had been so busy scanning the words on the page that you hadn’t noticed your phone buzzing non-stop next to you. 
Once you saw the glow of your phone screen curiosity got the better of you and you flipped it around seeing you had eight missed calls from your best friend. 
Your eyebrows knitted in confusion, it was almost two in the morning, she would for sure be at a club right now, happily dancing the night away with your friends, so why was she consistently calling you? 
The phone buzzed once again and this time you were quick to answer. 
“Hello, Gia, what’s going on?” 
Her voice was slurred on the other end, but you could sense the panic regardless, “Y/n? I don’t know where I am, I was with the others but then I went to the bathroom, and I then couldn’t find anyone anymore. And this guy won’t leave me alone-”
“Gia, where are you? I’ll come get you.” You cut off her rambling, already rushing to put on your shoes, essay long forgotten. 
She hiccupped, “I’m at Macarena. I’m sorry no one else answered.” 
“No, no problem at all. I’m coming right now, Gia. Don’t move. I’m glad you called.” You comforted her. 
The club was only a twenty-minute walk from your house, and seeing as you didn’t have a car or the time to wait for public transport, it was your best option. 
You cursed yourself for not answering sooner as you rushed to get your keys, grabbing a random hoodie on the way out. 
Although summer was beginning to creep into Barcelona, the nights were still chilly with cold winds rushing through the area. 
You sped through the streets, walking with purpose as you finally reached the club. You were severely underdressed for the club wearing a random hoodie and yoga pants. You saw the line for the club was still extremely long, wrapping around the corner and you knew you had no time to waste. 
You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself, you were never one to break any rules or ask for any special favors, but now seemed like a good time to start. 
You walked up to the club bouncer, ignoring the nasty look the guy at the front of the queue was sending you, “Excuse me. I need to get in right away, my friend is inside alone, and I need to help her.” 
You heard the guy next to you scoff. 
The bouncer looked at you unimpressed. “Sorry sweetheart. You want to get to her, you have to wait in line.” 
You relented, “Sir please, just look at my outfit,” you said gesturing to yourself, “clearly, I’m not here to party, I just need to get my friend and leave. You can even come with me!” 
He gave you an apprehensive look, taking in your appearance, “I can’t leave my post.” 
You groaned, “Fine, then can someone else escort me? I can literally call her right now. She’s not in the right head space.” 
He squinted his eyes at you, “You look familiar.” 
It finally clicked. This is where you had gone with Gavi and his team, celebrating after they had won a final a few weeks ago. They had treated you like royalty, blocking off a whole section just for you, the club owner even making an appearance to congratulate the team.
You didn’t like to use the fact that you were dating a well-known athlete as a way to get special privileges but if it meant helping your friend then you would do it. 
“Yeah, I was in VIP a few weeks ago. I know the owner, so please let me in.”
“What’s his name?” 
You racked your brain trying to think of that night, “Santiago. It was Santiago!” You replied, finally remembering. 
The bouncer gave you a once over before he finally nodded begrudgingly, “Fine – but be quick.” 
You heard the other people in line begin to argue but you quickly thanked the bouncer, rushing inside, not wanting to wait long enough for him to change his mind. 
God bless Gavi.
The place was packed, bodies pressed together so closely that you had to squeeze in between heavily making out couples and groups of friends to make your way to the middle. The strobe lights were going crazy, changing every few seconds to the beat of the music. There was a DJ booth twenty feet above the crowd playing EDM Spanish music and the crowd was going insane, chanting along. 
You hit your head on your forehead as you realized you forgot to ask her where she was. 
You pulled out your phone, letting out a breath of relief when she answered, “I’m here Gia. Where are you?” 
“I’m at- I said no, stop, I’m at the bar.” She huffed. You felt your anxiety rise, who was she talking to? 
“Ok, I’m coming.” 
You pushed through the throngs of people, finally spotting the bar, seeing her leaning against the counter, hands flying as she argued with someone. 
You walked towards them hearing the tail end of their conversation, a bad feeling in your stomach.
“Gia!” You yelled, coming to stand next to her. 
She gave you a relieved look, falling into you, the effort of standing up being too much. 
You caught her, hugging her back. 
“Oh wow – two for one. I got a buddy that would love you.” 
You steadied Gia looking up to see the guy she was talking with giving you a smirk. 
You held his gaze, annoyed, “No thanks. We’re leaving now.” 
You went to turn but he caught your wrist pulling you back, the drink in his hand sloshing,
“Woah, don’t go yet, the fun’s just getting started. Look my buddies are in VIP we can hook you up.” 
You yanked your hand away, giving him a disgusted look, “First don’t touch me. Second, we’re leaving.” 
“You’re not leaving.” He persisted. 
You raised an eyebrow, “Fucking watch me.” 
He reached for you again, but you were prepared, grabbing his hand, and flinging it off you, as you weaved into the crowd, ignoring his shouts. 
You let out a breath as you stepped outside of the club, grateful for the cold air after sweating through your hoodie in the packed club. 
You adjusted your hold on Gia, holding her waist as you started the trek back to your apartment. 
She stumbled over her steps as you walked, giggling, “Oh my god Y/n your bleeding!” 
You gave her a confused look, dragging her, “What?” 
She giggled again, reaching for your hoodie, “It’s coming from your stomach, look it’s red!” She pointed at your shirt. 
You looked down and you stopped in your tracks, breath hitching as you began to panic, “Oh shit Gia I’m wearing Gavi’s hoodie!” 
She stopped as well, letting go of you as she plopped onto the ground, staring up at you,
“So?” 
“So? He’s going to be so mad at me. That dick spilled his drink on me. This is a white hoodie – who knows if it will come out?” You stressed.
“It’s-" she hiccupped, “fine.” 
You shook your head, “No It’s not it’s his favorite hoodie, I didn’t even realize I was wearing it. Fuck, I have to clean as soon as we get home.” 
You started walking before you realized she wasn’t following you. 
“Gia?” 
You turned around to see her slumped against the sidewalk, eyes closed. 
You rushed to her side, shaking her, “Gia? Gia, are you okay?” 
She hummed, “I don’t feel so good.” 
“Can you walk? We’re almost halfway there.” You asked, helping her sit up so she was leaning against you. 
She groaned, “I’m going to throw up.” 
You looked around anxiously, unsure of what to do. You had left the main strip of clubs and restaurants, and were now on a back road, walking in an area that was dimly lit and that you weren’t too familiar with. 
“I can call an Uber.” 
You reached into your pocket, cursing yourself as you realized you had forgotten your wallet in the rush to get to the club. 
“Shit, I don’t have my wallet. Do you have yours?” 
“Antonio.” She groaned, leaning her head against your shoulder. 
You let out a huff, contemplating what to do. You attempted to get her to stand up once again, desperate to get out of the area, but she couldn’t stand, and you weren’t strong enough to carry her the rest of the way. You chewed on your lip debating a solution, but you didn’t want to do it unless it was the absolute, last, last resort. 
You spent the next five minutes calling all your friends, but no one answered. You groaned, frustrated, knowing you had run out of options. 
You heard your friend beginning to doze off and you shook her, “Gia stay awake.” 
She moaned, “Y/n I really don’t feel good. I don’t know what’s wrong.” 
Your finger hovered over the contact, and you finally pressed it, feeling the guilt build inside. 
It rang seven times before going to voicemail. You called back. 
On the third ring, the line finally connected, 
“Y/n? Why are you calling me so late?” Gavi’s voice was thick with sleep, his words murmured. 
Hearing his voice sent a pang of relief through you, and suddenly you didn’t feel so alone,
“Gavi I’m sorry. I really need your help.” 
He was up in an instant, wide awake, “What’s wrong?” 
“I’m stuck in the middle of the road with Gia. She got drunk and I went to get her but now I’m worried there’s something wrong. She can’t get up and we’re all alone. I don’t have any money. I called our friends, but no one answered, I-I didn’t know what to do.” You rushed out. 
You heard his breath accelerate on the other end of the line, “Ok don’t worry baby I’m coming. Send me your address, everything’s going to be okay. Just stay on the phone with me.” He reassured you. 
You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see you, “Thank you so much Gavi.”
You heard his car door open, “Anytime. If anything happens like this again you call me first, okay?” 
“Okay.” 
You stayed on the phone with him, rubbing Gia’s shoulder to comfort her, readjusting her whenever she began to doze off. 
Finally, you saw a familiar car pull onto the street, and you waved your hands, trying to get him to see you. 
The car made a quick turn and then Gavi was rushing out, a worried look on his face, 
“Oh thank god you’re okay. I was so worried.” 
“I’m so sorry for waking you. Thank you for coming.” 
“Y/n stop apologizing.” He said, helping you carry Gia to the car. 
Upon feeling that she was being lifted, her eyes shot open, “Y/n what’s going on?”
She glanced over to her left seeing Gavi before she turned to look at you, it took two seconds for her eyes to widen and then she was whipping her head back, “Gavi? The hell y-you doing here?” 
You giggled at her abruptness, “I had to call for help.” 
She turned to you, snuggling into your shoulder affectionately, “You’re the best Y/n. She was a rockstar today.” She spoke, as you both pushed her into the car. 
Gavi raised his eyebrow at you as you both got in, “A rockstar eh?” 
You rolled your eyes, “She’s just spewing nonsense.” 
Gia groaned in the back, hands clumsily coming to slap your shoulder, “Ehh don’t lie Y/n. You should have seen the way she talked to those guys – even I was scared.” 
You saw Gavi’s grip on the steering wheel tighten, his posture stiffened as he looked over at you,
“Guys? What guys?” 
You opened your mouth to reply but Gia beat you to it. 
“This one guy, he kept trying to get me to come with him, but then Y/n was like no way we’re leaving, and then he started hitting on her, but then he tried to grab her, and she karate chopped his hand! He was so embarrassed!” 
You felt yourself blushing at her recollection of events, “I did not karate chop his hand!” 
“Yes, you did. It was like in midair when he was talking about his friend that liked you, and then I blinked, and it was gone!”
“Did he try anything?” Gavi’s voice was hard, as he looked at you.
You shook your head, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “No don’t worry. We were fine.” 
You felt his body relax under your touch, and one of his hands came to grip your own, “You should have called me sooner. I’m sorry you had to deal with that asshole.” 
You felt your heart flutter at his words, “Don’t worry I handled it. But thank you, next time I will.” 
Soon you were pulling up to your apartment and hauling Gia up your steps. 
“I really wish we had an elevator right now.” Gia groaned as she was being half pulled, half carried up the steps. 
You made eye contact with Gavi after hearing her statement, and you had to bite your cheek not to laugh out loud, 
“You and me both G.”
Finally, you reached your apartment, and all let out a sigh of relief as she fell onto your bed, passing out almost immediately. 
You cringed as you saw her head land centimeters away from the sharp edge of one of your textbooks. 
You reached over, clearing the space so she was able to sleep without the risk of a concussion. 
You looked up once the area was cleaned to see Gavi looking at you intently, a weird expression on his face almost like he was stuck in his thoughts. 
“What? Is everything okay?” You asked unsure, looking down at yourself. 
That’s when you realized. 
You were still wearing his hoodie, the one that had a massive red stain on it now thanks to the jackass at the club. 
You had completely forgotten about it. 
You quickly apologized, “Gavi I’m so sorry. Gia called and I was so worried so I grabbed the first thing I could find – and then the guy kept grabbing me and had this drink – anyways,” you let out a huff, “I’m really really sorry, I can buy you a new one.” 
Gavi stared at you in surprise, shocked by your outburst, “Y/n relax. It’s okay.”
“I’m sorry I know how much you love this sweatshirt.” 
Gavi shook his head slightly smiling, you were just so adorable, and he physically couldn’t hold back the words he’d been dying to say any longer, “I love you more though, so it’s fine.” 
“Wha-what?” You stumbled over your words, clearly not expecting such a big revelation.
“I said I love you.” He said it with so much confidence, almost like he was reciting a fact, something that couldn’t be changed, and you melted a little at how sure he sounded. 
You didn’t know what to say, your brain still playing those three words on a loop. He loved you. He had said it first. 
The silence stretched on and now it was his turn to get nervous, “Is that okay?”
Your mouth was still open in shock, but you quickly recovered, 
“Yo-you love me?” Your voice cracked. 
“Well, yeah… why would I not?” He asked, eyes locked on yours.
You shook your head, a smile gracing your features as you took a step closer to him, “I love you too, and I’m sorry-”
He cut you off with a sweet kiss, pulling you closer into him, as he slid his hands under the sweatshirt, fingers gently squeezing the soft flesh of your hips. 
Your lips moved in sync and your hands went to play with his hair, gently tugging. 
You heard him let out a groan and you bit his bottom lip instinctively. 
He pulled away out of breath, a dazed look in his eyes, “Joder, you can ruin all my hoodies if this is how you apologize.” He muttered breathlessly. 
You rolled your eyes, smiling as he brought you back into him for another kiss. 
401 notes · View notes
one-squash-one-end · 2 months
Text
I wrote a giant Raven Cycle analysis
Hi! Over the last year or so I've been working on a sort of essay about various themes in the raven cycle series, and I finally finished it a few weeks ago.
It is titled: "Why I love The Raven Cycle - An excessive analysis of the themes of friendship, queerness and growing up".
And since tumblr loves its meta (and bc I love peer validation) I've decided to start uploading it bit by bit here, making this the masterpost (if I can figure out the logistics of the linking lmao, bear with me)
(beware of spoilers up to greywaren starting at like 3b!)
Introduction
What even is the Raven Cycle?
Trust me, the characters are queer as fuck and I can prove it a) Blue Sargent b) Gansey c) Adam Parrish d) Ronan Lynch e) Noah f) Henry Cheng g) Honorary mentions
The Gangsey is a polycule
Analyzing the reoccurring themes a) Friendship b) Being a teen/growing up c) (Found) Family d) Magic (as a metaphor) e) Further themes I appreciate
Drawing a conclusion
Click here to start with the introductory parts!
1. Introduction
So here’s the thing: I love fiction almost as much as I love my friends. There’s something deeply comforting about the escapism, even if the book actually makes me want to scream and throw it on the floor (only one book has been thrown so far, I promise!).  Fiction is a healthy thing to occupy my thoughts with: headcanons! Quotes being on loop in my brain! Just fandoms!
And for me, if I am hooked on a book (series), it does not even need a good plot where a lot of things happen. In fact, I would say that my enjoyment of a book is made up of 30% plot and about 70% characters and vibes. If the characters are bland, if they do not make me feel much emotion, it likely won’t be more than 4 stars (additional info: I am way too nice rating books!). I really, really need to love the characters, to be able to relate to some aspects of them, or it just won’t become an obsession.
Since I have already started explaining that a bit, let’s look at this question: What is important to make a book special to me? 1. I need to cry reading it. 2. I have to think about it often, even weeks to months after having read it. 3. Obviously, I need to love the characters. 4. I need to be in the fandom! This can be hard with some books, but the internet is a whimsical space allowing you to find at least a small number of people who are obsessed with a work of fiction to a similar extent as you are.
Now, why am I elaborating on this so much? It’s because The Raven Cycle did all that for me. It is my favorite comfort book series at the moment, for all those aspects mentioned, but of course I cannot just leave it at that. No, I wrote a whole-ass analysis on headcanons and some of its themes. You’re welcome.
2. What even is The Raven Cycle?
The Raven Cycle is all I adore and live for (next to my friends). So, naturally, it’s a book series, specifically a four book young adult contemporary fantasy series by American author Maggie Stiefvater. The books in question are: The Raven Boys (2012), The Dream Thieves (2013), Blue Lily, Lily Blue (2014) and The Raven King (2016), and yes I will admit that the publishing dates are a bit of a red flag. There is also the very relevant follow-up series called The Dreamer Trilogy (Call Down The Hawk, Mister Impossible, Greywaren), but it’s a lot less easy to get into that here as I do not know these entire books by heart, so I’ll stick to the original tetralogy here.
To stick to red flags, the books are set in the fictional Henrietta, a rural town in non-fictional Virginia, US, in the 2010s. However, that doesn’t really say *that* much about the plot, so let me summarize that really quick, because I can do better than the official synopsis! (Or let’s pretend I can.)
Blue Sargent comes from a family of psychics, yet she does not have any powers of her own. Even worse, she is a bit of an amplifier for the others, meaning she is always somehow but never directly involved in the business. As if that isn’t enough for an identity crisis, every psychic she has ever met has told her that her kiss would kill her true love. Yikes.
But because she is that amplifier, she comes to a church watch on St. Mark’s Eve, where psychics see the spirits of those to die within the following year. It’s important business, but to her it’s really just staring into the dark. Until she does actually see a spirit: That of Gansey. Of course this is not a coincidence. No, to add to this teen’s mount of problems, there are only two reasons why a non-seer would see someone’s spirit: They are their true love, or they killed them. Or, in Blue’s case, maybe both.
The aforementioned Gansey is Henrietta’s Golden Boy, the son of politicians (read: he’s fucking loaded). He does not run with the Republicans though, he runs with dead Welsh kings, meaning he has been searching for the probably dead, presumably sleeping Welsh king Glendower (*1350; †1416; yikes) for the past like seven years. Why the fuck would he do that? Well, legend says that he will grant a wish to whoever wakes him, and our favorite PTSD-ridden guy really wants that favor.
Aiding him are fellow Aglionby students Adam Parrish, Ronan Lynch and Noah Czerny, plus Henry Cheng, though only a lot later in the series, but I really did not want to leave out that menace (affectionately) here. The paths of Blue and the boys cross because of Gansey’s search for Glendower, plus the fact that Blue works at a popular pizza place, but that’s a lot less whimsical. And, well, there’s the implication that Gansey might also be her true love, but perhaps she just kills him because of his bad fashion sense, it would be justified. Anyway, in true Famous Five fashion (Ronan is the dog; I won’t elaborate, the girls that get it, get it) they are of course not the only ones searching for the king, so it’s not completely a wholesome friend bonding activity all the way through.
Be prepared for: friendship and growing up, lots of treasure hunting, family mysteries, magical forests, illegal and slightly distasteful activities (our favorite of course), but most of all, heavily queer-coded (or even canonically queer) characters. Be Gay, Do Crime.
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blurbios · 1 year
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Being Dabi’s Doting S/O (Part 2)
cw: none
other: gn! reader, fluff
follow up to this
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As odd as it still felt when Dabi thought about it, he had gotten used to you caring for him. The mission Shigaraki had sent him on was a long and tedious one, no intense fighting, but tiring nonetheless. He was absolutely exhausted, the only thing that kept him going was the thought of seeing you light up when he walked through the door. Nobody told you that Dabi was coming home that night, so you were sitting in bed, typing out an essay for some random college kid that commissioned you. You started writing papers as a side hustle after having met the league so that you could help keep the lights on in the place. You were nearly finished when you heard the doorknob turning. “Ah, you’re home! Nobody told me, I’m sorry. Should I run you a bath? Did you eat?” You rambled on and on as he walked closer to you, visibly fatigued. He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back, you quickly moved the laptop from your lap, careful not to delete your hard work. 
“I missed you.” He looked up at you, his head now resting on your thighs.
“I missed you too Dabi, I’m glad you’re back.” You ran your fingers through his messy hair. “How bad was it? Because I’ll fight Shiggy, I don’t care.” You hated seeing him look so drained.
“You don’t have to do that, it wasn’t bad. It just took too long, don’t worry.” He laughed a bit at the thought of you actually confronting Tomura. 
“I always worry, you know that.” You smiled down at him, taking a second to take in what was happening. Not one sarcastic remark, not one hand swat, he was nothing but genuine. He brought your free hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on each individual digit, you could feel the smile on his lips as he did so.
“I love you, y/n.” he said looking up at you admiring your features. He still had a hard time saying it, but he couldn’t believe that you were his. 
“I thought I was supposed to be the mushy one.” You joked. 
“Maybe you’re rubbing off on me too much.” He retorted like normal. He sat up and turned toward you, taking your hands in his. “Sometimes I think you’re too good for me.” You raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the sudden sincerity. “You’re so caring and kind, you shouldn’t be around people in the league, people like me.” His eyes dropped as he felt a bit ashamed. 
“If you really think all those things, you have to tell me what I can do to make those thoughts fade.” You removed your hands from his grasp and placed them on either side of his face. “I love you, Dabi. I want you to realize that you deserve good things too.” You inched closer to his face, so he had to look at you. “I mean it, I love you, more than anything.” He leaned forward to press his lips gently to yours. You both felt heat growing in your cheeks. You felt the familiar sensation of butterflies in your stomach, the same feeling as when you had first confessed to him. He leaned all his weight on you causing you to lay down. You wrapped your arms around him as he laid on top of you. 
“Maybe I am rubbing off on you too much.” You laughed. It was nice having the tables turned, him clinging to you instead of the norm. 
“I’m so lucky to have you.” He spoke lightly into your hair as he nuzzled closer. 
“And I’m even luckier.” You placed a soft kiss on his temple. You felt so lucky that he felt comfortable with you, comfortable enough to seek you out and rest his whole weight on you, comfortable enough to be vulnerable with you, and comfortable enough to show that he loves you. You were used to him doing little things, silent gestures of love, but this was new and it made you feel treasured. After all, you were his treasure, the treasure that he was lucky enough to stumble upon, and the treasure that he would never ever let go of.
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a/n: i dont think every league member is gonna get a part two, but this popped in my head and i knew i had to do it. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh thank y’all for enjoying these lil stories i write btw makes me happy xx
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sleeplesslionheart · 7 months
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The Haunting of Bly Manor as Allegory: Self-Sacrifice, Grief, and Queer Representation
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As always, I am extremely late with my fandom infatuations—this time, I’m about three years late getting smitten with Dani and Jamie from The Haunting of Bly Manor.
Because of my lateness, I’ll confess from the start that I’m largely unfamiliar with the fandom’s output: whether fanfiction, interpretations, analyses, discourse, what have you. I’ve dabbled around a bit, but haven’t seen anything near the extent of the discussions that may or may not have happened in the wake of the show’s release, so I apologize if I’m re-treading already well-trod ground or otherwise making observations that’ve already been made. Even so, I’m completely stuck on Dani/Jamie right now and have some thoughts that I want to compose and work through.
This analysis concerns the show’s concluding episode in particular, so please be aware that it contains heavy, detailed spoilers for the ending, as well as the show in its entirety. Additionally, as a major trigger warning: this essay contains explicit references to suicide and suicidal ideation, so please tread cautiously. (These are triggers for me, and I did, in fact, manage to trigger myself while writing this—but this was also very therapeutic to write, so those triggering moments wound up also being some healing opportunities for me. But definitely take care of yourself while reading this, okay?).
After finishing Bly and necessarily being destroyed by the ending, staying up until 2:00 a.m. crying, re-watching scenes on Youtube, so on and so forth, I came away from the show (as others have before me) feeling like its ending functioned fairly well as an allegory for loving and being in a romantic partnership with someone who suffers from severe mental illness, grief, and trauma.
Without going too deeply into my own personal backstory, I want to provide some opening context, which I think will help to show why this interpretation matters to me and how I’m making sense of it.
Like many of Bly’s characters, I’ve experienced catastrophic grief and loss in my own life. A few years ago, my brother died in some horrific circumstances (which you can probably guess at if you read between the lines here), leaving me traumatized and with severe problems with my mental health. When it happened, I was engaged to a man (it was back when I thought I was straight (lol), so I’ve also found Dani’s comphet backstory to be incredibly relatable…but more on this later) who quickly tired of my grieving. Just a few months after my brother’s death, my then-fiancé started saying things like “I wish you’d just go back to normal, the way you were” and “I’ve gotten back on-track and am just waiting for you to get back on-track with me,” apparently without any understanding that my old “normal” was completely gone and was never coming back. He saw my panic attacks as threatening and unreasonable, often resorting to yelling at me to stop instead of trying to comfort me. He complained that he felt like I hadn’t reciprocated the care that he’d provided me in the immediate aftermath of my brother’s loss, and that he needed me to set aside my grief (and “heal from it”) so that he could be the center of my attention. Although this was not the sole cause, all of it laid the groundwork for our eventual breakup. It was as though my trauma and mourning had ruined the innocent happiness of his own life, and he didn’t want to deal with it anymore.
Given this, I was powerfully struck by the ways that Jamie handles Dani’s trauma: accepting and supporting her, never shaming her or diminishing her pain.
Early in the show—in their first true interaction with one another, in fact—Jamie finds Dani in the throes of a panic attack. She responds to this with no judgment; instead, she validates Dani’s experiences. To put Dani at ease, she first jokes about her own “endless well of deep, inconsolable tears,” before then offering more serious words of encouragement about how well Dani is dealing with the circumstances at Bly. Later, when Dani confesses to seeing apparitions of Peter and Edmund, Jamie doesn’t pathologize this, doubt it, or demean it, but accepts it with a sincere question about whether Dani’s ex-fiancé is with them at that moment—followed by another effort to comfort Dani with some joking (this time, a light-hearted threat at Edmund to back off) and more affirmations of Dani’s strength in the face of it all.
All of this isn’t to say, however, that Dani’s grief-driven behaviors don’t also hurt Jamie (or, more generally, that grieving folks don’t also do things that hurt their loved ones). When Dani recoils from their first kiss because of another guilt-inspired vision of Eddie, Jamie is clearly hurt and disappointed; still, Jamie doesn’t hold this against Dani, as she instead tries to take responsibility for it herself. A week later, though, Jamie strongly indicates that she needed that time to be alone in the aftermath and that she is wary that Dani’s pattern of withdrawing from her every time they start to get closer will continue to happen. Nonetheless, it’s important to note that this contributes to Dani’s recognition that she’s been allowing her guilt about Eddie’s death to become all-consuming, preventing her from acting on her own desires to be with Jamie. That recognition, in turn, leads Dani to decide to move through her grief and beyond her guilt. Once she’s alone later in the evening after that first kiss, Dani casts Eddie’s glasses into the bonfire’s lingering embers; she faces off with his specter for a final time, and after burning away his shadow, her visions of him finally cease. When she and Jamie reunite during their 6:00 a.m. terrible coffee visit, Dani acknowledges that the way that she and Jamie left things was “wrong,” and she actively tries to take steps to “do something right” by inviting Jamie out for a drink at the village pub…which, of course, just so happens to be right below Jamie’s flat. (Victoria Pedretti’s expressions in that scene are so good).
Before we continue, though, let’s pause here a moment to consider some crucial factors in all of this. First, there is a significant difference between “moving through one’s grief” and simply discarding it…or being pressured by someone else to discard it. Second, there is also a significant difference between “moving through one’s grief” and allowing one’s grief to become all-consuming. Keep these distinctions in mind as we go on.
Ultimately, the resolution of the show’s core supernatural conflict involves Dani inviting Viola’s ghost to inhabit her, which Viola accepts. This frees the other spirits who have been caught in Bly Manor’s “gravity well,” even as it dooms Dani to eventually be overtaken by Viola and her rage. Jamie, however, offers to stay with Dani while she waits for this “beast in the jungle” to claim her. The show’s final episode shows the two of them going on to forge a life together, opening a flower shop in a cute town in Vermont, enjoying years of domestic bliss, and later getting married (in what capacities they can—more on this soon), all while remaining acutely aware of the inevitability of Dani’s demise.
The allegorical potentials of this concluding narrative scenario are fairly flexible. It is possible, for instance, to interpret Dani’s “beast in the jungle” as chronic (and/or terminal) illness—in particular, there’re some harrowing readings that we could do in relation to degenerative neurological diseases associated with aging (e.g. dementia, Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s, progressive supranuclear palsy, etc.), especially if we put the final episode into conversation with the show’s earlier subplot about the death of Owen’s mother, its recurring themes of memory loss as a form of death (or, even, as something worse than death), and Jamie’s resonant remarks that she would rather be “put out of her misery” than let herself be “worn away a little bit every day.” For the purposes of this analysis, though, I’m primarily concerned with interpreting Viola’s lurking presence in Dani’s psyche as a stand-in for severe grief, trauma, and mental illness. …Because, even as we may “move through” grief and trauma, and even as we may work to heal from them, they never just go away completely—they’re always lurking around, waiting to resurface. (In fact, the final minutes of the last episode feature a conversation between older Jamie and Flora about contending with this inevitable recurrence of grief). Therapy can give us tools to negotiate and live with them, of course; but that doesn’t mean that they’re not still present in our lives. The tools that therapy provides are meant to help us manage those inevitable resurfacings in healthy ways. But they are not meant to return us to some pre-grief or pre-trauma state of “normality” or to make them magically dissipate into the ether, never to return. And, even with plenty of therapy and with healthy coping mechanisms, we can still experience significant mental health issues in the wake of catastrophic grief, loss, and trauma; therapy doesn’t totally preclude that possibility.
In light of my own experiences with personal tragedy, crumbling mental health, and the dissolution of a romantic partnership with someone who couldn’t accept the presence of grief in my life, I was immediately enamored with the ways that Jamie approaches the enduring aftereffects of Dani’s trauma during the show’s final episode. Jamie never once pressures Dani to just be “normal.” She never once issues any judgment about what Dani is experiencing. At those times when Dani’s grief and trauma do resurface—when the beast in the jungle catches up with her—Jamie is there to console her, often with the strategies that have always worked in their relationship: gentle, playful ribbing and words of affirmation. There are instances in which Dani doesn’t emote joyfulness during events that we might otherwise expect her to—consider, for instance, how somber Dani appears in the proposal scene, in contrast to Jamie’s smiles and laughter. (In the year after my brother’s death, my ex-fiancé and his family would observe that I seemed gloomy in situations that they thought should be fun and exciting. “Then why aren’t you smiling?” they’d ask, even when I tried to assure them that I was having a good time, but just couldn’t completely feel that or express it in the ways that I might’ve in the past). Dani even comments on an inability to feel that is all too reminiscent of the blunting of emotions that can happen in the wake of acute trauma: “It’s like I see you in front of me and I feel you touching me, and every day we’re living our lives, and I’m aware of that. But it’s like I don’t feel it all the way.” But throughout all of this (and in contrast to my own experiences with my ex), Jamie attempts to ground Dani without ever invalidating what she’s experiencing. When Dani tells her that she can’t feel, Jamie assures her, “If you can’t feel anything, then I’ll feel everything for the both of us.”
A few days after I finished the show for the first time, I gushed to a friend about how taken I was with the whole thing. Jamie was just so…not what I had experienced in my own life. I loved witnessing a representation of such a supportive and understanding partner, especially within the context of a sapphic romance. After breaking up with my own ex-fiancé, I’ve since come to terms with my sexuality and am still processing through the roles that compulsory heterosexuality and internalized homophobia have played in my life; so Dani and Jamie’s relationship has been incredibly meaningful for me to see for so, so many reasons.
“I’m glad you found the show so relatable,” my friend told me. “But,” she cautioned, “don’t lose sight of what Dani does in that relationship.” Then, she pointed out something that I hadn’t considered at all. Although Jamie may model the possibilities of a supportive partnership, Dani’s tragic death espouses a very different and very troubling perspective: the poisonous belief that I’m inevitably going to hurt my partner with my grief and trauma, so I need to leave them before I can inflict that harm on them.
Indeed, this is a deeply engrained belief that I hold about myself. While I harbor a great deal of anger at my ex-fiancé for how he treated me, there’s also still a part of me that sincerely believes that I nearly ruined his and his family’s lives by bringing such immense devastation and darkness into it. On my bad days (which are many), I have strong convictions about this in relation to my future romantic prospects as well. How could anyone ever want to be with me? I wonder. And even if someone eventually does try to be with me, all I’ll do is ruin her life with all my trauma and sadness. I shouldn’t even want to be with anyone, because I don’t want to hurt someone else. I don’t want someone else to deal with what I’ve had to deal with. I even think about this, too, with my friends. Since my brother’s death and my breakup, I’ve gone through even more trauma, pain, grief, and loss, such that now I continue to struggle enormously with issues like anhedonia, emotional fragility, and social anxiety. I worry, consequently, that I’m just a burden on my friends. That I’m too hard to be around. That being around me, with all of my pain and perpetual misfortune, just causes my friends pain, too. That they’re better off not having to deal with me at all. I could spare them all, I think, by just letting them go, by not bothering them anymore.
I suspect that this is why I didn’t notice any issues with Dani’s behavior at the end of Bly Manor at first. Well…that and the fact that the reality of the show’s conclusion is immensely triggering for me. Probably, my attention just kind of slid past the truth of it in favor of indulging in the catharsis of a sad gay romance.
But after my friend observed this issue, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
I realized, then, that I hadn’t extended the allegory out to its necessary conclusion…which is that Dani has, in effect, committed suicide in order to—or so she believes, at least—protect Jamie from her. This is the case regardless of whether we keep Viola’s ghost in the mix as an actual, tangible, existing threat within the show’s diegesis or as a figurative symbol of the ways that other forces can “haunt” us to the point of our own self-destruction. If the former, then Dani’s suicide (or the more gentle and elusive description that I’ve seen: her act of “giving herself to the lake”) is to prevent Viola’s ghost from ever harming Jamie. But if the latter, if we continue doing the work of allegorical readings, then it’s possible to interpret Bly’s conclusion as the tragedy of Dani ultimately succumbing to her mental illness and suicidal ideation.
The problems with this allegory’s import really start cropping up, however, when we consider the ways that the show valorizes Dani’s actions as an expression of ultimate, self-sacrificing love—a valorization that Bly accomplishes, in particular, through its sustained contrasting of love and possession.
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The Implications of Idealizing Self-Sacrifice as True Love
During a pivotal conversation in one of the show’s early episodes, Dani and Jamie discuss the “wrong kind of love” that existed between Rebecca Jessel and Peter Quint. Jamie remarks on how she “understands why so many people mix up love and possession,” thereby characterizing Rebecca and Peter’s romance as a matter of possession—as well as hinting, perhaps, that Jamie herself has had experiences with this in her own past. After considering for a moment, Dani agrees: “People do, don’t they? Mix up love and possession. […] I don’t think that should be possible. I mean, they’re opposites, really, love and ownership.” We can already tell from this scene that Dani and Jamie are, themselves, heading towards a burgeoning romance—and that this contrast between love and possession (and their self-awareness of it) is going to become a defining feature of that romance.
Indeed, the show takes great pains to emphasize the genuine love that exists between Dani and Jamie against the damaging drive for possession enacted by characters like Peter (who consistently manipulates Rebecca and kills her to keep her ghost with him) and Viola (who has killed numerous people and trapped their souls at Bly over the centuries in a long since forgotten effort to reclaim her life with her husband and daughter from Perdita, her murderously jealous sister). These contrasts take multiple forms and emerge from multiple angles, all to establish that Dani and Jamie’s love is uniquely safe, caring, healing, mutually supportive, and built on a foundation of prevailing concern for the other’s wellbeing. Some of these contrasts are subtle and understated. Consider, for instance, how Hannah observes that Rebecca looks like she hasn’t slept in days because of the turmoil of her entanglements with Peter, whereas Jamie’s narration describes how Dani gets the best sleep of her life during the first night that she and Jamie spend together. Note, too, the editing work in Episode 6 that fades in and out between the memories of the destructive ramifications of Henry and Charlotte’s affair and the scenes of tender progression in Dani and Jamie’s romance. Other contrasts, though, are far more overt. Of course, one of the most blatant examples (and most pertinent to this analysis) is the very fact that the ghosts of Viola, Peter, and Rebecca are striving to reclaim the people they love and the lives that they’ve lost by literally possessing the bodies and existences of the living.
The role of consent is an important factor in these ghostly possessions and serves as a further contrast with Dani and Jamie’s relationship. Peter and Rebecca frequently possess Miles and Flora without their consent—at times, even, when the children explicitly tell them to stop or, at the very least, to provide them with warnings beforehand. While inhabiting the children, Peter and Rebecca go on to harm them and put them at risk (e.g. Peter smokes cigarettes while in Miles’s body; Rebecca leaves Flora alone and unconscious on the grounds outside the manor) and to commit acts of violence against others (e.g. Peter pushes Hannah into the well, killing her; Peter and Rebecca together attack Dani and restrain her). The “It’s you, it’s me, it’s us,” conceit—with which living people can invite Bly’s ghosts to possess them, the mechanism by which Dani breaks the curse of Bly’s gravity well—is a case of dubious consent at best and abusive, violent control at worst. (“I didn’t agree,” Rebecca says after Peter leaves her body, releasing his “invited” possession of her at the very moment that the lake’s waters start to fill her lungs).
Against these selfish possessions and wrong kinds of love, Jamie and Dani’s love is defined by their selfless refusal to possess one another. A key characteristic of their courtship involves them expressing vulnerability in ways that invite the other to make their own decisions about whether to accept and how to proceed (or not proceed). As we discussed earlier, Dani and Jamie’s first kiss happens after Dani opens up about her guilt surrounding her ex-fiancé’s death. Pausing that kiss, Jamie checks, “You sure?” and only continues after Dani answers with a spoken yes. (Let’s also take this moment to appreciate Amelia Eve’s excellent, whispered “Thank fuck,” that isn’t included in Netflix’s subtitles). Even so, Dani frantically breaks away from her just moments later. But Jamie accepts this and doesn’t push Dani to continue, believing, in fact, that Dani has withdrawn precisely because Jamie has pushed too much already. A week later, Dani takes the initiative to advance their budding romance by inviting Jamie out for a drink—which Jamie accepts by, instead, taking Dani to see her blooming moonflowers that very evening. There, in her own moment of vulnerability, Jamie shares her heart-wrenching and tumultuous backstory with Dani in order to “skip to the end” and spare Dani the effort of getting to know her. By openly sharing these difficult details about herself, Jamie evidently intends to provide Dani with information that would help her decide for herself whether she wants to continue their relationship or not.
Their shared refusal to possess reaches its ultimate culmination in that moment, all those years later, when Dani discovers just how close she’s come to strangling Jamie—and then leaves their home to travel all the way back to Bly and drown herself in the lake because she could “not risk her most important thing, her most important person.” Upon waking to find that Dani has left, Jamie immediately sets off to follow her back to Bly. And in an absolutely heartbreaking, beautiful scene, we see Jamie attempting the “you, me, us,” invitation, desperate for Dani to possess her, for Dani to take Jamie with her. (Y’all, I know I’m critiquing this scene right now, but I also fuckin’ love it, okay? Ugh. The sight of Jamie screaming into the water and helplessly grasping for Dani is gonna stay with me forever. brb while I go cry about it again). Dani, of course, refuses this plea. Because “Dani wouldn’t. Dani would never.” Further emphasizing the nobility of Dani’s actions, Jamie’s narration also reveals that Dani’s self-sacrificial death has not only spared Jamie alone, but has also enabled Dani to take the place of the Lady of the Lake and thereby ensure that no one else can be taken and possessed by Viola’s gravity well ever again.
And so we have the show’s ennoblement of Dani’s magnanimous self-sacrifice. By inviting Viola to possess her, drowning herself to keep from harming Jamie, and then refusing to possess Jamie or anyone else, Dani has effectively saved everyone: the children, the restive souls that have been trapped at Bly, anyone else who may ever come to Bly in the future, and the woman she loves most. Dani has also, then, broken the perpetuation of Bly’s cycles of possession and trauma with her selfless expression of love for Jamie.
The unfortunate effect of all of this is that, quite without meaning to (I think? I hope—), The Haunting of Bly Manor ends up stumbling headlong into a validation of suicide as a selfless act of true love, as a force of protection and salvation.
So, before we proceed, I just want to take this moment to say—definitively, emphatically, as someone who has survived and experienced firsthand the ineffably catastrophic consequences of suicide—that suicide is nothing remotely resembling a selfless “refusal to possess” or an act of love. I’m not going to harp extensively on this, though, because I’d rather not trigger myself for a second time (so far, lol) while writing this essay. Just take my fuckin’ word for it. And before anybody tries to hit me with some excuse like “But Squall, it isn’t that the show is valorizing suicide, it’s that Dani is literally protecting Jamie from Viola,” please consider that I’ve already discussed how the show’s depiction of this lent itself to my own noxious beliefs that “all I do is harm other people with my grief, so maybe I should stop talking to my friends so that they don’t have to deal with me anymore.” Please consider what these narrative details and their allegorical import might tell people who are struggling with their mental health—even if not with suicidal ideation, then with the notion that they should self-sacrificially remove themselves from relationships for the sake of sparing loved ones from (assumed) harm.
Okay, that said, now let’s proceed…‘cause I’ve got even more to say, ‘cause the more I mulled over these details, the more I also came to realize that Dani’s self-sacrificial death in Bly’s conclusion also has the unfortunate effect of undermining some of its other (attempted) themes and its queer representation.
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What Bly Manor Tries (and Fails) to Say about Grief and Acceptance
Let’s start by jumping back to a theme we’ve already addressed briefly: moving through one’s grief.
The Haunting of Bly Manor does, in fact, have a lot to say about this. Or…it wants to, more like. On the whole, it seems like it’s trying really hard to give us a cautionary tale about the destructive effects of unprocessed grief and the misplaced guilt that we can wind up carrying around when someone we love dies. The show spends a whole lot of time preaching about how important it is that we learn to accept our losses without allowing them to totally consume us—or without lingering around in denial about them (gettin’ some Kübler-Ross in here, y’all). Sadly, though, it does kind of a half-assed job of it…despite the fact that this is a major recurring theme and a component of the characterizations and storylines of, like, most of its characters. In fact, this fundamentally Kübler-Rossian understanding of what it means to move through grief and to accept loss and mortality appears to be the show’s guiding framework. During his rehearsal dinner speech in the first episode, Owen proclaims that, “To truly love another person is to accept that the work of loving them is worth the pain of losing them,” with such eerie resonance—as the camera stays set on Jamie’s unwavering gaze—that we know that what we’re about to experience is a story about accepting the inevitable losses of the people we love.
Bly Manor is chock full of characters who’re stuck in earlier stages of grief but aren’t really moving along to reach that acceptance stage. I mean, the whole cause of the main supernatural haunting is that Viola so ferociously refuses to accept her death and move on from her rage (brought about by Perdita’s resentment) that she spends centuries strangling whoever she comes across, which then effectively traps them there with her. And the other antagonistic ghostly forces, Rebecca and Peter, also obviously suck at accepting their own deaths, given that they actually believe that possessing two children is a perfectly fine (and splendid) way for them to grasp at some semblance of life again. (Actually…the more that I’ve thought about this, the more that I think each of the pre-acceptance stages of grief in Kübler-Ross’s model may even have a corresponding character to represent it: Hannah is denial; Viola is anger; Peter and Rebecca are bargaining; Henry is depression. Just a little something to chew on).
But let’s talk more at-length about this theme in relation to two characters we haven’t focused on yet: Hannah and Henry. For Hannah, this theme shows up in her struggles to accept that her husband, Sam, has left her (Charlotte wryly burns candles in the chapel as though marking his passing, while Hannah seems to be holding out hope that he might return) and in her persistent denial that Peter-as-Miles has killed her. As a ghost, she determinedly continues going about her daily life and chores even as she’s progressively losing her grip on reality. Henry, meanwhile, won’t issue official notifications of Dominic’s death and continues to collect his mail because doing otherwise would mean admitting to the true finality of Dominic’s loss. At the same time, he is so, completely consumed by his guilt about the role that he believes he played in Charlotte and Dominic’s deaths that he’s haunting himself with an evil alter-ego. His overriding guilt and despair also result in his refusal to be more present in Miles and Flora’s lives—even with the knowledge that Flora is actually his daughter.
In the end, both Hannah and Henry reach some critical moments of acceptance. But, honestly, the show doesn’t do a great job of bringing home this theme of move through your grief with either of them…or with anybody else, really. Peter basically winds up bullying Hannah into recognizing that her broken body is still at the bottom of the well—and then she accepts her own death right in time to make a completely abortive attempt at rescuing Dani and Flora. Henry finally has a preternatural Bad Feeling about things (something about a phone being disconnected? whose phone? Bly’s phone? his phone? I don’t understand), snaps to attention, and rushes to Bly right in time to make an equally abortive rescue attempt that leaves him incapacitated so that his not-quite-ghost can hang out with Hannah long enough to find out that she’s dead. But at least he decides to be an attentive uncle/dad to Miles and Flora after that, I guess. Otherwise, Hannah and Henry get handwaved away pretty quickly before we can really witness what their acceptance means for them in any meaningful detail. (I blame this on some sloppy writing and the way-too-long, all-about-Viola eighth episode. And, on that note, what about the “acceptances” of Rebecca, Peter, and Viola there at the end? Rebecca does get an interesting moment of acceptance—of a sort—with her offer to possess Flora in order to experience Flora’s imminent drowning for her, thereby sparing the child by tucking her in a happy memory. Peter just…disappears at the end with some way-too-late words of apology. Viola’s “acceptance,” however, is tricky…What she accepts is Dani’s invitation to inhabit her. More on this later).
Hannah and Henry’s stories appear to be part of the show’s efforts to warn us about the ways that unprocessed, all-consuming grief can cause us to miss opportunities to have meaningful relationships with others. Hannah doesn’t just miss her chance to be with Owen because…well, she’s dead, but also because of her unwillingness to move on from Sam beforehand. Her denial about her own death, in turn, prevents her from taking the opportunity as a ghost to tell Owen that she loves him. Henry, at least, does figure out that he’s about to lose his chance to be a caring parental figure to his daughter and nephew—but just barely. It takes the near-deaths of him and the children to finally prompt that realization.
Of the cast, Dani gets the most thorough and intentional development of this move through your grief theme. And, importantly, she learns this lesson in time to cultivate a meaningful relationship that she could’ve easily missed out on otherwise. As we’ve already discussed, a critical part of Dani’s character arc involves her realization that she has to directly confront Edmund’s death and start absolving herself of her guilt in order to open up the possibility of a romantic relationship with Jamie. In Episode 4, Jamie’s narration suggests that Dani has had a habit of putting off such difficult processes (whether in regards to moving through her grief, breaking off her engagement to Edmund, or coming to terms with her sexuality), as she’s been constantly deferring to “another night, another time for years and years.” Indeed, the show’s early episodes are largely devoted to showing the consequences of Dani’s deferrals and avoidances. From the very beginning, we see just how intrusively Dani’s unresolved guilt is impacting her daily life and functioning. She covers up mirrors to try to prevent herself from encountering Edmund’s haunting visage, yet still spots him in the reflections of windows and polished surfaces. Panic attacks seem to be regular occurrences for her, sparked by reminders of him. And all of this only gets worse and more disruptive as Dani starts acting on her attraction to Jamie.
It's only after Dani decides to begin moving through her grief and guilt that she’s able to start becoming emotionally and physically intimate with Jamie. And the major turning point for this comes during a scene that features a direct, explicit discussion of the importance of accepting (and even embracing) mortality.
That’s right—it’s time to talk about the moonflower scene.
In a very “I am extremely fed up with people not being able to deal with my traumatic past, so I’m going to tell you about all of the shit that I’ve been through so that you can go ahead and decide whether you want to bolt right now instead of just dropping me later on” move (which…legit, Jamie—I feel that), Jamie sits Dani down at her moonflower patch to give her the full rundown of her own personal backstory and worldview. Her monologue evinces both a profound cynicism and a profound valuation of human life…all of which is also suggestive, to me at least, of a traumatized person who at once desperately wishes for intimate connection, but who’s also been burned way too many times (something with which I am wholly unfamiliar, lol). She characterizes people as “exhaustive effort with very little to show for it,” only to go on to wax poetic about how human mortality is as beautiful as the ephemeral buds of a moonflower. This is, in essence, Jamie’s sorta convoluted way of articulating that whole “To truly love another person is to accept that the work of loving them is worth the pain of losing them” idea.
After detailing her own past, Jamie shifts gears to suggest that she believes that cultivating a relationship with Dani—like the devoted work of growing a tropical, transient Ipomoea alba in England—might be worth the effort. And as part of this cultivation work, Jamie then acknowledges Dani’s struggles with her guilt, while also firmly encouraging her to move through it by accepting the beauty of mortality:  
“I know you’re carrying this guilt around, but I also know that you don’t decide who lives and who doesn’t. I’m sorry Dani, but you don’t. Humans are organic. It’s a fact. We’re meant to die. It’s natural…beautiful. […] We leave more life behind to take our place. Like this moonflower. It’s where all its beauty lies, you know. In the mortality of the thing.”
After that, Jamie and Dani are finally able to make out unimpeded.
Frustratingly, though, Jamie’s own dealings with grief, loss, and trauma remain terribly understated throughout the show. Her monologue in the moonflower scene is really the most insight that we ever get. Jamie consistently comes off as better equipped to contend with life’s hardships than many of Bly’s other characters; and she is, in fact, the sole member of the cast who is confirmed to have ever had any sort of professional therapy. She regularly demonstrates a remarkable sense of empathy and emotional awareness, able to pick up on others’ needs and then support them accordingly, though often in gruff, tough-love forms. Further, there are numerous scenes in which we see Jamie bestowing incisive guidance for handling difficult situations: the moonflower scene, her advice to Rebecca about contacting Henry after Peter’s disappearance, and her suggestion to Dani that Flora needs to see a psychologist, to name just a few. As such, Jamie appears to have—or, at least, projects—a sort of unflappable groundedness that sets her apart from everyone else in the show.
Bly only suggests that Jamie’s struggles run far deeper than she lets on. There are a few times that we witness quick-tempered outbursts (usually provoked by Miles) and hints of bottled-up rage. Lest we forget, although it was Flora who first found Rebecca’s dead body floating in the water, it was Jamie who then found them both immediately thereafter. We see this happen, but we never learn anything about the impact that this must have had on her. Indeed, Jamie’s exposure to the layered, compounding grief at Bly has no doubt inflicted a great deal of pain on her, suggested by details like her memorialization of Charlotte and Dominic during the bonfire scene. If we look past her flippancy, there must be more than a few grains of truth to that endless well of deep, inconsolable tears—but Jamie never actually shares what they might be. Moreover, although the moonflower scene reveals the complex traumas of her past, we never get any follow-up or elaboration about those details or Dani’s observation of the scar on her shoulder. For the most part, Jamie’s grief goes unspoken.
There’s a case to be made that these omissions are a byproduct of narrator Jamie decentering herself in a story whose primary focus is Dani. Narrator Jamie even claims that the story she’s telling “isn’t really my story. It belongs to someone I knew” (yes, it’s a diversionary tactic to keep us from learning her identity too soon—but she also means it). And in plenty of respects, the telling of the story is, itself, Jamie’s extended expression of her grief. By engaging in this act of oral storytelling to share Dani’s sacrifice with others—especially with those who would have otherwise forgotten—Jamie is performing an important ritual of mourning her wife. Still, it’s for exactly these reasons that I think it would’ve been valuable for the show to include more about the impacts that grief, loss, and trauma had on Jamie prior to Dani’s death. Jamie’s underdevelopment on this front feels more like a disappointing oversight of the show’s writing than her narrator self’s intentional, careful withholding of information. Additionally, I think that Bly leaves Jamie’s grieving on an…odd note (though, yes, I know I’m just a curmudgeonly outlier here). Those saccharine final moments of Jamie filling up the bathtub and sleeping on a chair so that she can face the cracked doorway are a little too heavy-handedly tear-jerking for my liking. And while this, too, may be a ritual of mourning after the undoubtedly taxing effort of telling Dani’s story, it may also suggest that Jamie is demurring her own acceptance of Dani’s death. Is the hand on her shoulder really Dani’s ghost? Or is it Jamie’s own hopeful fabrication that her wife’s spirit is watching over her? (Or—to counter my own point here and suggest a different alternative—could this latter idea (i.e. the imagining of Dani’s ghost) also be another valid manner of “accepting” a loss by preserving a loved one’s presence? “Dead doesn’t mean gone,” after all. …Anyway, maybe I would be more charitable to this scene if not for the hokey, totally out-of-place song. Coulda done without that, seriously).
But let’s jump back to the moonflower scene. For Dani, this marks an important moment in the progression of her own movement through grief. In combination, her newfound readiness to contend with her guilt and her eagerness to grow closer to Jamie enable Dani to find a sense of peace that she hasn’t experienced since Eddie’s death…or maybe ever, really (hang on to this thought for this essay’s final section, too). When she and Jamie sleep together for the first time, not only does Dani actually sleep well, but she also wakes the next morning to do something that she hasn’t done to that point and won’t do again: she comfortably looks into a mirror. (One small qualification to this: Dani does look into her own reflection at the diner when she and Jamie are on their road trip; Viola doesn’t interfere then, but whether this is actually a comfortable moment is questionable). Then, shifting her gaze away from her own reflection, she sees Jamie still sleeping soundly in her bed—and smiles. It’s a fleeting moment of peace. Immediately after that, she spots Flora out the window, which throws everything back into accumulating turmoil. But that moment of peace, however fleeting, is still a powerful one.
However, Bly teases this narrative about the possibilities of finding healing in the wake of traumatic loss—especially through the cultivation of meaningful and supportive relationships with others—only to then totally pull that rug out from under Dani in the final episode.
During that final episode, we see that Dani’s shared life with Jamie has supported her in coming to terms with Viola’s lurking presence, such that “at long last, deep within the au pair’s heart, there was peace. And that peace held for years, which is more than some of us ever get.” But it’s at the exact moment that that line of narration occurs that we then begin to witness Dani’s steady, inexorable decline. Sure, we could say that Dani “accepts” Viola’s intrusions and the unavoidable eventuality that the ghost will seize control of her. But this isn’t a healthy acceptance or even a depiction of the fraught relationships that we can have with grief and trauma as we continue to process them throughout our lives. At all. Instead, it’s a distinctive, destructive sense of fatalism.
“I’m not even scared of her anymore,” Dani tells Jamie as the flooded bathtub spills around them. “I just stare at her and it's getting harder and harder to see me. Maybe I should just accept that. Maybe I should just accept that and go.” Remember way back at the beginning of this essay when I pointed out that there’s a significant difference between “moving through one’s grief” and allowing one’s grief to become all-consuming? Well, by the time we reach the bathtub scene, Dani’s grief and trauma have completely overtaken her. Her “acceptance” is, thus, a fatalistic, catastrophizing determination that her trauma defines her existence, such that she believes that all she has left to do is give up her life in order to protect Jamie from her. For a less ghostly (and less suicidal ideation-y) and more real-life example to illustrate what I’m getting at here: this would be like me saying “I should just accept that I’m never going to be anything other than a traumatized mess and should stop reaching out to my friends so that I don’t keep hurting them by making them deal with what a mess I am.” If I said something like this, I suspect (hope) that you would tell me that this is not a productive acceptance, but a pernicious narrative that only hurts me and the people who care about me. Sadly, though, this kind of pernicious narrative is exactly what we get out of Bly’s ending allegory.
“But Squall,” you may be thinking, “this scene is representing how people who struggle with their mental health can actually feel. This is exactly what it can be like to have severe mental illness, even for folks who have strong support systems and healthy, meaningful relationships. And there’s value in showing that.”
And if you’re thinking that, then first of all—as I have indicated already—I am aware that this is what it can be like. Very aware. And second of all, you make a fair point, but…there are ways that the show could’ve represented this without concluding that representation with a suicide that it effectively valorizes. I’ll contend with this more in the final section, where I offer a few suggestions of other ways that Bly could’ve ended instead.
I just want to be absolutely clear that I’m not saying that I think all media portrayals of mental illness need to be hopeful or wholesome or end in “positive” ways. But what I am saying is that Bly’s conclusion offers a really fuckin’ bleak outlook on grief, trauma, and mental illness, especially when we fit that ending into the framework of the show’s other (attempted) core themes, as well as Dani’s earlier character development. It’s especially bleak to see this as someone with severe mental health issues and who has also lost a loved one to suicide—and as someone who desperately hopes that my life and worldview won’t always stay so darkly colored by my trauma.
Additionally, it’s also worth pausing here to acknowledge that fatalism is, in fact, a major theme of The Beast in the Jungle, the 1903 Henry James novella on which the ninth episode is loosely based. I confess that I’ve only read about this novella, but haven’t read the story itself. However, based on my (admittedly limited) understanding of it, there appears to be a significant thematic rupture between The Beast in the Jungle and The Haunting of Bly Manor in their treatments of fatalism. In the end of the novella, its protagonist, John Marcher, comes to the realization that his fatalism has been a horrible mistake that has caused him to completely miss out on an opportunity for love that was right in front of him all along. The tragic fate to which Marcher believed that he was doomed was, in the end, his own fatalism. Dani, in contrast, never has this moment of recognition, not only because her fatalism leads to her own death, but also because the show treats her fatalism not as something that keeps her from love, but instead as leading her towards a definitive act of love.
All of this is exactly why Dani’s portrayal has become so damn concerning to me, and why I don’t believe that Bly’s allegory of “this is what it’s like to live with mental illness and/or to love (and lose) someone who is mentally ill” is somehow value-neutral—or, worse, something worth celebrating.
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How Dani’s Self-Sacrifice Bears on Bly’s Queer Representation
In my dabblings around the fandom so far, I’ve seen a fair amount of deliberation about whether or not Bly Manor’s ending constitutes an example of the Bury Your Gays trope.
Honestly, though, I am super unenthused about rehashing those deliberations or splitting hairs trying to give some definitive “yes it is” or “no it isn’t” answer, so…I’m just not going to. Instead, I’m going to offer up some further observations about how Dani’s self-sacrificial death impinges on Bly’s queer representation, regardless of whether Bury Your Gays is at work here or not.
I would also like to humbly submit that the show could’ve just…not fucked around in proximity of that trope in the first place so that we wouldn’t even need to be having these conversations.
But anyway. I’m going to start this section off with a disclaimer.
Even though I’m leveling some pretty fierce critiques in this section (and across this essay), I do also want to say that I adore that The Haunting of Bly Manor and its creators gave us a narrative that centers two queer women and their romantic relationship as its driving forces and that intentionally sets out to portray the healing potentials of sapphic love as a contrast to the destructive, coercive harms found in many conventional dynamics of hegemonic heteronormativity. I don’t want to downplay that, because I’m extremely happy that this show exists, and I sincerely believe that many elements of its representation are potent and meaningful and amazing. But…I also have some reservations with this portrayal that I want to share. I critique not because I don’t love, but because I do love. I love this show a lot. I love Dani and Jamie a lot. I critique because I love and because I want more and better in future media.
So, that being said…let’s move on to talk about Dani, self-sacrifice, and compulsory heterosexuality.
Well before Dani’s ennobled death, Bly establishes self-sacrifice as a core component of her characterization. It’s hardwired into her, no doubt due to the relentless, entangled educational work of compulsory heterosexuality (comphet) and the aggressive forms of socialization that tell girls and women that their roles in life are to sacrifice themselves in order to please others and to belong to men. Indeed, Episode 4’s series of flashbacks emphasizes the interconnectedness between comphet and Dani’s beliefs that she is supposed to sacrifice herself for others’ sakes, revealing how these forces have shaped who she is and the decisions that she’s made across her life. (While we’re at it, let’s also not lose sight of the fact that Dani’s profession during this time period is one that—in American culture, at least—has come to rely on a distinctively feminized self-sacrificiality in order to function. Prior to becoming an au pair, Dani was a schoolteacher. In fact, in one of Episode 4’s flashbacks, Eddie’s mother points out that she appreciates Dani’s knack for identifying the kids that need her the most, but also reminds Dani that she needs to take care of herself…which suggests that Dani hadn’t been: “Save them all if you can, but put your own oxygen mask on first”).
In the flashback of her engagement party, Dani’s visible discomfort during Edmund’s speech clues us in that she wasn’t preparing to marry him because she genuinely wanted to, but because she felt like she was supposed to. The “childhood sweethearts” narrative bears down on the couple, celebrated by their friends and family, vaunted by cultural constructs that prize this life trajectory as a cherished, “happily ever after” ideal. Further illustrating the pressures to which Dani had been subject, the same scene shows Eddie’s mother, Judy O’Mara, presenting Dani with her own wedding dress and asking Dani to wear it when she marries Eddie. Despite Mrs. O’Mara’s assurances that Dani can say no, the hopes that she heaps onto Dani make abundantly clear that anything other than a yes would disappoint her. Later, another flashback shows Dani having that dress sized and fitted while her mother and Mrs. O’Mara look on and chatter about their own weddings and marriages. Their conversation is imbued with further hopes that Dani’s marriage to Edmund will improve on the mistakes that they made in their lives. Meanwhile, Dani’s attentiveness to the tailor who takes her measurements, compliments her body, and places a hand on her back strongly suggests that Dani is suppressing her attraction to women. Though brief, this scene is a weighty demonstration of the ways that the enclosures of heteronormativity constrain women into believing that their only option is to deny homosexual attraction, to forfeit their own desires in order to remain in relationships with men, and to prioritize the hopes and dreams and aspirations of the people around them above their own.
Dani followed this pathway—determined for her by everyone else except herself—until she couldn’t anymore.
During the flashback of their breakup, Dani explains to Eddie that she didn’t end their relationship sooner because she thought that even just having desires that didn’t match his and his family’s was selfish of her: “I should’ve said something sooner. […] I didn’t want to hurt you, or your mom, or your family. And then it was just what we were doing. […] I just thought I was being selfish, that I could just stick it out, and eventually I would feel how I was supposed to.” As happens to so many women, Dani was on the cusp of sacrificing her life for the sake of “sticking out” a marriage to a man, all because she so deeply believed that it was her duty to satisfy everyone’s expectations of her and that it was her responsibility to change her own feelings about that plight.
And Eddie’s response to this is telling. “Fuck you, Danielle,” he says. “Why are you doing this to me?”
Pay close attention to those last two words. Underline ‘em. Bold ‘em. Italicize ‘em.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
With those two words, Eddie indicates that he views Dani’s refusal to marry him as something that she is doing to him, a harm that she is committing against him. It is as though Dani is inflicting her will on him, or even that she is unjustly attackinghim by finally admitting that her desires run contrary to his own, that she doesn’t want to be his wife. And with this statement, he confirms precisely what she anticipated would happen upon giving voice to her true feelings.
What space did Edmund, his family, or Dani’s mother ever grant for Dani to have aspirations of her own that weren’t towards the preordained role of Eddie’s future wife? Let’s jump back to that engagement party. Eddie’s entire speech reveals a very longstanding assumption of his claim over her as his wife-to-be. He’d first asked Dani to marry him when they were ten years old, after he mistakenly believed that their first kiss could get Dani pregnant; Dani turned him down then, saying that they were too young. So, over the years, as they got older, Eddie continued to repeatedly ask her—until, presumably, she relented. “Now, we’re still pretty young,” he remarks as he concludes his speech, “but I think we’re old enough to know what we want.” Significantly, Eddie speaks here not just for himself, but also for Dani. Dani’s voice throughout the entire party is notably absent, as Eddie and his mother both impose their own wishes on her, assume that she wants what they want, and don’t really open any possibility for her to say otherwise. Moreover, although there’s a palpable awkwardness that accompanies Eddie’s story, the crowd at the party chuckles along as though it’s a sweet, innocent tale of lifelong love and devotion, and not an instance of a man whittling away at a woman’s resistance until she finally caved to his pursuit of her.
All of this suggests that Eddie shared in the socialized convictions of heteropatriarchy, according to which Dani’s purpose and destiny were to marry him and to make him happy. His patterns of behavior evince the unquestioned presumptions of so many men: that women exist in service to them and their wants, such that it is utterly inconceivable that women could possibly desire otherwise. As a political institution, heteropatriarchy tells men that they are entitled to women’s existences, bodies, futures. And, indeed, Eddie can’t seem to even imagine that Dani could ever want anything other than the future that he has mapped out for them. (Oh, hey look, we’ve got some love vs. possession going on here again).
For what it’s worth, I think that the show’s portrayal of compulsory heterosexuality is excellent. I love that the writers decided to tackle this. Like I mentioned at the beginning, I found all of this to be extremelyrelatable. I might even be accused of over-relating and projecting my own experiences onto my readings here, but…there were just too many resonances between Dani’s experiences and my own. Mrs. O’Mara’s advice to Dani to “put your own oxygen mask on first” is all too reminiscent of the ways that my ex’s parents would encourage me to “heal” from my brother’s loss…but not for the sake of my own wellbeing, but so that I would return to prioritizing the care of their son and existing to do whatever would make him happy. I’ll also share here that what drove me to break up with my ex-fiancé wasn’t just his unwillingness to contend with my grief, but the fact that he had decided that the best way for me to heal from my loss would be to have a baby. He insisted that I could counteract my brother’s death by “bringing new life into the world.” And he would not take no for an answer. He told me that if I wouldn’t agree to try to have children in the near future, then he wasn’t interested in continuing to stay with me. It took me months to pluck up the courage, but I finally answered this ultimatum by ending our relationship myself. Thus, like Dani, I came very close to sacrificing myself, my wants, my body, my future, and my life for the sake of doing what my fiancé and his family wanted me to do, all while painfully denying my own attraction to women. What kept me from “sticking it out” any longer was that I finally decided that I wasn’t going to sacrifice myself for a man I didn’t love (and who clearly didn’t love me) and decided, instead, to reclaim my own wants and needs away from him.
For Dani, however, the moment that she finally begins to reclaim her wants and needs away from Eddie is also the moment that he furiously jumps out of the driver’s seat and into the path of a passing truck, which leaves her to entangle those events as though his death is her fault for finally asserting herself.
Of course, the guilt that Dani feels for having “caused” Eddie’s death isn’t justa matter of breaking up with him and thereby provoking a reaction that would prove fatal—it’s also the guilt of her suppressed homosexual desire, of not desiring Eddie in the first place. In other words, internalized homophobia is an inextricable layer of the culpability that Dani feels. Internalized homophobia is also what’s haunting her. As others (such as Rowan Ellis, whose deep dive includes a solid discussion of internalized homophobia in Bly, as well as a more at-length examination of Bury Your Gays than I’m providing here) have pointed out, the show highlights this metaphorically by having Dani literally get locked into a closet with Edmund’s ghost in the very first episode. Further reinforcing this idea is the fact that these spectral visions get even worse as Dani starts to come to terms with and act on her attraction to Jamie, as though the ghost is punishing her for her desires. Across Episode 3, as Dani and Jamie begin spending more time together, Edmund’s ghost concurrently begins materializing in more shocking, visceral forms (e.g. his bleeding hand in Dani’s bed; his shadowy figure lurking behind Dani after she’s held Jamie’s hand) that exceed the reflective surfaces to which he’d previously been confined. This continues into Episode 4, where each of Eddie’s appearances follows moments of Dani’s growing closeness to Jamie. A particularly alarming instance occurs when Dani just can’t seem to pry her gaze away from a dressed-up Jamie who’s in the process of some mild undressing. Finally turning away from Jamie, Dani becomes aware of Eddie’s hands on her hips. It’s a violating reminder of his claims over her, horrifying in its invocation of men’s efforts to coerce and control women’s sexuality.
It is incredibly powerful, then, to watch Dani answer all of this by becoming more resolute and assertive in the expression of her wants and needs. The establishment of her romantic relationship with Jamie isn’t just the movement through grief and guilt that we discussed earlier; it’s also Dani’s defiance of compulsory heterosexuality and her fierce claiming of her queer existence. Even in the face of all that’s been haunting her, Dani initiates her first kiss with Jamie; and Eddie’s intrusion in that moment is only enough to temporarily dissuade her, as Dani follows this up by then asking Jamie out for a drink at the pub to “see where that takes them” (i.e. up to Jamie’s flat to bang, obviously). The peace that Dani finds after having sex with Jamie for the first time is, therefore, also the profound fulfillment of at last having her first sexual experience with a woman, of finally giving expression to this critical part of herself that she’d spent her entire life denying. Compulsory heterosexuality had dictated to Dani that she must self-sacrifice to meet the strictures of heteropatriarchy, to please everyone except herself; but in her relationship with Jamie, Dani learns that she doesn’t have to do this at all. This is only bolstered by the fact that, as we’ve talked about at length already, Jamie is very attentive to Dani’s needs and respectful of her boundaries. Jamie doesn’t want Dani to do anything other than what Dani wants to do. And so, in the cultivation of their romantic partnership, Dani thus comes to value her own wants and needs in a way that she hasn’t before.
The fact that the show nails all of this so fucking well is what makes all that comes later so goddamn frustrating.
The final episode chronicles Dani and Jamie forging a queer life together that the rest of us can only dream of, including another scene of Dani flouting homophobia and negotiating her own internal struggles so that she can be with Jamie. “I know we can’t technically get married,” she tells Jamie when she proposes to her, “but I also don’t really care.” And with her awareness that the beast in the jungle is starting to catch up with her, Dani tells Jamie that she wants to spend whatever time she has left with her.
But then…
A few scenes later—along with a jump of a few years later, presumably—Jamie arrives home with the licenses that legally certify their civil union in the state of Vermont. It’s a monumental moment. In 2000, Vermont became the first state to introduce civil unions, which paved the way for it to later (in 2009) become the first state to pass legislation that recognized gay marriages without needing to have a court order mandating that the state extend marriage rights beyond opposite-sex couples. I appreciate that Bly’s creatorsincorporated this significant milestone in the history of American queer rights into the show. But its positioning in the show also fuckin’ sucks. Just as Jamie is announcing the legality of her and Dani’s civil union and declaring that they’ll have another marriage ceremony soon, we see water running into the hallway. This moves us into that scene with the flooded bathtub, as Jamie finds Dani staring into the water, unaware of anything else except the reflection of Viola staring back at her. Thus, it is at the exact moment when her wife proudly shares the news of this incredible achievement in the struggle for queer rights—for which queer folks have long fought and are continuing to fight to protect in the present—that Dani has completely, hopelessly resigned herself to Viola’s possession.
I want to be careful to clarify here that, in making this observation, I don’t mean to posit some sort of “Dani should have fought back against Viola” argument, which—within the context of our allegorical readings—might have the effect of damagingly suggesting that Dani should have fought harder to recover from mental illness or terminal disease. But I do mean to point out the incredibly grim implications that the juxtaposition of these events engenders, especially when we contemplate them (as we did in the previous section) within the overall frameworks of the show’s themes and Dani’s character development. After all that has come before, after we’ve watched Dani come to so boldly assert her queer desire and existence, it is devastating to see the show reduce her to such a despairing state that doesn’t even give her a chance to register that she and Jamie are now legal partners.
Why did you have to do this, Bly? Why?
Further compounding this despair, the next scene features the resumption of Dani’s self-sacrificial beliefs and behaviors, which results in her demise, and which leaves Jamie to suffer through the devastation of her wife’s death. This resumption of self-sacrifice hence demolishes all of that beautiful work of asserting Dani’s queer existence and learning that she doesn’t need to sacrifice herself that I just devoted two thousand words to describing above.
Additionally, in the end, Dani’s noble self-sacrifice also effects a safe recuperation of heteronormativity…which might add more evidence to a Bury Your Gays claim, oops.
And that is because, in the end, after we see Jamie screaming into the water and Dani forever interred at the bottom of the lake in which she drowned herself, we come to the end of Jamie’s story and return to Bly Manor’s frame narrative: Flora’s wedding.
At the start of the show, the evening of Flora and Unnamed Man’s (Wikipedia says his name is James? idk, w/e) rehearsal dinner provides the occasion and impetus for Jamie’s storytelling. Following dinner, Flora, her fiancé, and their guests gather around a fireplace and discuss a ghost story about the venue, a former convent. With a captive audience that includes her primary targets—Flora and Miles, who have forgotten what happened at Bly and, by extension, all that Dani sacrificed and that Jamie lost so that they could live their lives free of the trauma of what transpired—and with a topically relevant conversation already ongoing, Jamie interjects that she has a ghost story of her own to share…and thus, the show’s longer, secondary narrative begins.
When Jamie’s tale winds to a close at the end of the ninth episode, the show returns us to its frame, that scene in front of the cozy, crackling fire. And it is there that we learn that it is, in fact, Jamie who has been telling us this story all along.
As the other guests trickle away, Flora stays behind to talk to Jamie on her own. A critical conversation then ensues between them, which functions not only as Jamie’s shared wisdom to Flora, but also as the show’s attempt to lead viewers through what they’ve just experienced and thereby impart its core message about the secondary narrative. The frame narrative is, thus, also a direct address to the audience that tells us what we should take away from the experience. By this point, the show has thoroughly established that Jamie is a gentle-but-tough-love, knowledgeable, and trustworthy guide through the trials of accepting grief and mortality, and so it is Jamie who leaves Flora and us, the audience, with the show’s final word about how to treasure the people we love while they are still in our lives and how to grieve them if we survive beyond them. (But, by this point in this essay, we’ve also learned that Bly’s messages about grief and mortality are beautiful but also messy and unconvincing, even with this didactic ending moment).
With all of this in mind, we can (and should) ask some additional questions of the frame narrative.
One of those questions is: Why is the secondary narrative being told from/within this particular frame?
Answering this question within the show’s diegesis (by asking it of the narrator) is easy enough. Jamie is performing a memorialization of Dani’s life and sacrifice at an event where her intended audience happens to be gathered, ensuring that Miles and Flora begin to recognize what Dani did for them in a manner that maybe won’t just outright traumatize them.
Okay, sure, yeah. True. Not wrong.
But let’s interrogate this question more deeply—let’s ask it of the show itself. So, Bly Manor: Why is the secondary narrative being told from/within this particular frame?
We could also tweak this question a bit to further consider: What is the purpose of the frame? A frame narrative can function to shape audiences’ interpretations of and attitudes towards the secondary narrative. So, in this case, let’s make our line of questioning even more specific. What does the frame of Flora’s wedding do for Bly’s audiences?
Crucially, the framing scene at the fireplace provides us with a sense that we’ve returned to safety after the horror of the ghost story we’ve just experienced. To further assure us of this safety, then, Bly’s frame aims to restore a sense of normality, a sense that the threat that has provoked fear in us has been neutralized, a sense of hope that endures beyond tragedy. Indeed, as we fade from the secondary narrative and return to the frame, Jamie’s narration emphasizes how Dani’s selfless death has brought peace to Bly Manor by breaking its cycles of violence and trauma: “But she won’t be hollow or empty, and she won’t pull others to her fate. She will merely walk the grounds of Bly, harmless as a dove for all of her days, leaving the only trace of who she once was in the memory of the woman who loved her most.”
What Dani has accomplished with her self-sacrifice, then, is a longstanding, prevailing, expected staple of Western—and especially American—storytelling: redemption.
American media is rife with examples of this narrative formula (in which an individual must take selfless action—which may or may not involve self-sacrificial death—in order to redeem an imperiled community by restoring a threatened order) to an extent that is kind of impossible to overstate. Variations of this formula are everywhere, from film to television to comics to videogames to news reports. It is absolutely fundamental to our cultural understandings of what “heroism” means. And it’s been this way for, umm…a long time, largely thanks to that most foundational figure of Western myth, some guy who was crucified for everybody’s sins or something. (Well, that and the related popularization of Joseph Campbell’s hero’s journey, but…I’m not gonna go off onto a whole rant about that right now, this essay is already too long as it is).
In Bly Manor, the threatened order is the natural process of death itself, which Viola has disrupted with a gravity well that traps souls and keeps them suspended within physical proximity of the manor. Dani’s invitation to Viola is the initial step towards salvation (although, I think it’s important to note that this is not entirely intentional on Dani’s part. Jamie’s narration indicates that Dani didn’t entirely understand what she was doing with the “It’s you, it’s me, it’s us” invitation, so self-sacrifice was not necessarily her initial goal). It nullifies the gravity well and resumes the passage of death, which liberates all of the souls that have been trapped at Bly and also produces additional opportunities for others’ atonements (e.g. Peter’s apology to Miles; Henry’s guardianship of the children). But it’s Dani’s suicide that is the ultimate completion of the redemptive task. It is only by “giving herself to the lake” that Dani is able to definitively dispel Viola’s threat and confer redemptive peace to Bly Manor.
It’s tempting to celebrate this incredibly rare instance of a queer woman in the heroic-redemptive role, given that American media overwhelmingly reserve it for straight men. But I want to strongly advise that we resist this temptation. Frankly, there’s a lot about the conventional heroic-redemptive narrative formula that sucks, and I’d rather that we work to advocate for other kinds of narratives, instead of just championing more “diversity” within this stuffy old model of heroism. Explaining what sucks about this formula is beyond the purview of this essay, though. But my next point might help to illustrate part of why it sucks (spoiler: it’s because it tends to prop up traditional, dominant structures of power and relationality).
So…What I want us to do is entertain the possibility that Dani’s redemptive self-sacrifice might serve specific purposes for straight audiences, especially in the return to the frame at the end.
Across The Haunting of Bly Manor, we’ve seen ample examples of heterosexuality gone awry. The show has repeatedly called our attention to the flaws and failings of heterosexual relationships against the carefully cultivated safety, open communication, and mutual fulfillment of a queer romance between two women. But, while queer audiences may celebrate this about this show, for straight audiences, this whole situation might just wind up producing anxiety instead—as though heterosexuality is also a threatened order within the world of Bly Manor. More generally, asking straight audiences to connect with a queer couple as the show’s main protagonists is an unaccustomed challenge with which they’re not normally tasked; thus, the show risks leaving this dominant viewer base uncomfortable, threatened, and resentful, sitting with the looming question of whether heterosexuality is, itself, redeemable.
In answer to this, Dani’s self-sacrifice provides multiple assurances to straight audiences. To begin with, her assumption of the traditional heroic-redemptive role secures audiences within the familiar confines of that narrative formula, which also then promises that Dani is acting as a protector of threatened status quos and not as another source of peril. What Bly Manor is doing here is, in effect, acknowledging that it may have challenged (and even threatened) straight audiences with its centerpiece of a queer romance—and that, likewise, queers themselves may be challenging the status quos of romantic partnerships by, for instance, demanding marriage rights and improvements in media representations—while also emphatically reassuring those audiences in the wake of that challenge that Dani and Jamie haven’t created and aren’t going to create too much disturbance with their queerness. They’re really not that threatening, Bly swears. They’re harmless as a dove. They’re wholesome. They’re respectable. They—and queer folks more generally—aren’t going to totally upend everything, really. Look, they’ll even sacrifice themselves to save everyone and redeem imperiled communities and threatened orders—even heterosexuality itself!
A critical step towards achieving this assurance is the leveling of the playing field. In order for the show to neutralize the threat of queerness for straight audiences, comfort them with a return to safety, and promise them that heterosexuality is redeemable, the queer women need to have an on-screen tragic end to their relationship just like all of the straight couples have. And so, Dani must die and Jamie must grieve.
That accomplished, the show then immediately returns to the frame, the scene at the fireplace following Flora’s rehearsal dinner.
There—after we’ve witnessed so much queer joy and queer tragedy crammed into this final episode—we see Flora and her fiancé, bride and groom, sitting together, arms linked, taking in all that Jamie has to tell them. And with this warm, idyllic image of impending matrimony between man and wife, the safety to which straight audiences return in the frame is, therefore, also the safety of a heterosexuality that can find its redemption through Dani’s self-sacrifice. Not only does Dani’s death mean that Flora can live (and go on to marry her perfectly bland, unremarkable husband, all without the trauma of what happened at Bly), but it also means that she—and, with her, straight audiences—can ultimately benefit from the lessons about true love, loss, and grieving that Dani’s self-sacrifice and Jamie’s story bestow.
And so, Bly Manor concludes with a valorization of redemptive self-sacrifice and an anodyne recuperation of heteronormativity, bequeathing Flora with the opportunities to have and to hold the experiential knowledge that Dani and Jamie have provided for her. Here, queer tragedy serves up an educational opportunity for heterosexual audiences in a challengingly “inclusive,” but otherwise essentially non-threatening manner. The ending is a gentle, non-traumatizing, yet frank lesson to heterosexual audiences in the same way that Jamie’s story is a gentle, non-traumatizing, yet frank lesson to Flora.
Did the show’s creators intentionally do all of this to set about providing such assurances to straight audiences? Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t really know—or care! But, especially in light of incidents like the recent “Suletta and Miorine’s relationship is up to interpretation” controversy following the Gundam: Witch from Mercury finale, I absolutely do not put it past media corporations and content creators to very intentionally take steps to prioritize the comfort of straight audiences against the threats of queer love. And anyway, intentional or not, all of this still has effects and implications loaded with meaning, as I have tried to account for here.
Honestly, though, I can’t quite shake the feeling that there’s some tension between Jamie, Owen, and maybe also Henry about Jamie’s decision to publicly share Dani’s story in front of Flora and Miles. Owen’s abrupt declaration that it’s getting late and that they should wrap up seems like an intervention—like he’s been as patient and understanding as he possibly could up to that point, but now, he’s finally having to put a stop to Jamie’s deviance. I can’t help but read the meaningful stares that pass between them at both ends of the frame as a complex mixture of compassion and fraught disagreement (and I wish that the show had done more with this). The scene where Dani and Jamie visit Owen at his restaurant seems to set up the potential for this unspoken dispute. By their expressions and mannerisms (Dani’s stony stare; the protective way that Jamie holds her as her own gaze is locked on Dani), it’s clear that Dani and Jamie are aghast that Flora and Miles have forgotten what happened and that Owen believes that they should just be able to live their lives without that knowledge. And it’s also clear, by her very telling of Dani’s story, that Jamie disagrees with him. Maybe I’m over-imposing my own attitudes here, but I’m left with the impression that Jamie resents the coddling of Miles and Flora just like I’m resenting the coddling of straight audiences…that Jamie resents that she and Dani have had to give up everything so that Miles and Flora can continue living their privileged lives just like I’m resenting the exploitation of queer tragedy for the sake preserving straight innocence. (As Jamie says to Hannah when Dani puts the children to work in the garden: “You can’t give them a pass forever.” Disclaimer: I’m not saying that I want Miles and Flora to be traumatized, but I am saying that I agree with Jamie, because hiding traumatic shit is not how to resolve inter-generational trauma. Anyway—).
Also, I don’t know about y’all, but I find Flora and Jamie’s concluding conversation to be super cringe. Maybe it’s because I’m gay and just have way too much firsthand experience with this sort of thing from my own comphet past, but Flora’s whole “I just keep thinking about that silly, gorgeous, insane man I’m marrying tomorrow. I love him. More than I ever thought I could love anybody. And the crazy thing is, he loves me the same exact amount,” spiel just absolutely screams “woman who is having to do all of the emotional work in her relationship with an absolutely dull, mediocre, emotionally illiterate man and is desperately trying to convince herself that he does, in fact, love her as much as she (believes) that she loves him.”
I feel like this is a parody of straightness?? Is this actually sincere??
This is what Dani gave up her life to redeem??
To me, this is just more bleak shit that Bly leaves us with. It is so painful to watch.
Bless.
Okay, so I know that I said that I wasn’t going to offer a definitive yes or no about whether Bly commits Bury Your Gays with Dani’s death, but…after writing all of this out, I’m honestly kinda leaning towards a yes.
But I’m already anticipating that folks are gonna push back against me on this. So I just want to humbly submit, again, that Bly could have just not done this. It could have just not portrayed Dani’s death at all.
To really drive this point home, then, I’m going to conclude this essay by suggesting just a few ways that The Haunting of Bly Manor could have ended without Dani’s self-sacrificial death—or without depicting her death on-screen at all.
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Bly Manor Could Have Ended Differently
Mike Flanagan—creator, director, writer, editor, executive producer, showrunner, etc. of The Haunting of Bly Manor—has stated that he believes that the show’s ending is a happy one.
I, on the other hand, believe that Bly’s ending is…not. In my view, the way that the ending treats Dani is unnecessarily cruel and exploitative. “Happy ending”—really? If I let myself be cynical about it (which I do), I honestly think that Dani’s death is a pretty damn transparent effort to squeeze out some tears with a sloppy, mawkish, feel-good veneer slapped over it. And if we peel back that veneer and look under it, what we find is quite bleak.
To be fair, for a psychological horror show that’s so centrally about grief and trauma, Bly Manor does seem to profess an incredibly strong sense of hopefulness. Underlying the entirety of the show is a profound faith in all the good and beauty that can come from human connection, however fleeting our lives may be—and even if we make a ton of dumb, awful mistakes along the way. If I’m being less cynical about it, I do also think that the show’s ending strives to demonstrate a peak expression of this conviction. But—at least in my opinion—it doesn’t succeed in this goal. In my writing of this essay, I’ve come to believe that the show instead ends in a state of despair that is at odds with what it appears to want to achieve.
So, in this final section, I’m going to offer up a few possibilities for ways that the show could have ended that maybe wouldn’t have so thoroughly undermined its own attempted messages.
Now, if I were actually going to fix the ending of The Haunting of Bly Manor, I would honestly overhaul a ton of the show to arrive at something completely different. But I’m not going to go through all the trouble of rewriting the entire show here, lol. Instead, I’m going to work with most of what’s already there, leading out from Viola’s possession of Dani (even though I don’t actually like that part of the show either – maybe someday I’ll write about other implications of Viola’s possession of Dani beyond these allegorical readings, but not right now). I’m also going to try to adhere to some of the show’s core themes and build on some of the allegorical possibilities that are already in place. Granted, the ideas that I pose here wouldn’t fix everything, by any stretch of the imagination; but they would, at least (I hope), mitigate some of the issues that I’ve outlined over the course of this essay. And one way or another, I hope that they’ll help to demonstrate that Dani’s self-sacrificial death was completely unnecessary. (Seriously, just not including Dani’s death would’ve enabled the show to completely dodge the question of Bury Your Gays and would’ve otherwise gone a long way towards avoiding the problems with the show’s queer representation).
So, here's how this is going to work. First, I’m going to pose a few general, guiding questions before then proposing an overarching thematic modification that expands on an idea that’s already prominent across the show. This will then serve as the groundwork for two alternative scenarios. I’m not going to go super into detail with either of these alternatives; mostly, I just want to demonstrate that the show that could’ve easily replaced the situation leading to Dani drowning herself. (For the record, I also think that the show could’ve benefitted from having at least one additional episode—and from some timing and pacing restructuring otherwise. So, before anybody tries an excuse like “but this wouldn’t fit into the last episode,” I want to urge that we imagine these possibilities beyond that limitation).
Let’s start off by returning to a point that I raised in the earlier conversation about grief and acceptance: the trickiness of Viola’s “acceptance.”
What Viola “accepts” in the end aren’t her losses or her own mortality, but Dani’s desperate, last-ditch-effort invitation to inhabit her. Within the show’s extant ending, Viola never actually comes to any kind of acceptance otherwise. Dani’s suicide effectively forces her dissolution, eradicating her persistent presence through the redemptive power of self-sacrifice. But in all of my viewings of the show and in all of my efforts to think through and write about it, there’s a question that’s been bugging me to no end: Why does Viola accept Dani’s invitation in the first place?
We know that Peter figured out the “it’s you, it’s me, it’s us” trick in his desperation to return to some form of life and to leave the grounds of Bly Manor. But…what is the appeal of it for Viola? How do her own motivations factor into it? For so long, Viola’s soul has been tenaciously persisting at Bly all so that she can repeatedly return to the physical locus of her connection with her husband and daughter, their shared bedroom in the manor. She’s done this for so long that she no longer even remembers why she’s doing it—she just goes back there to grab whatever child she can find and strangles whoever happens to get in her way. So what would compel her to accept Dani’s invitation? What does she get out of it—and what does she want out of it? What does her acceptance mean? And why, then, does her acceptance result in the dissipation of the gravity well?
We can conjecture, certainly. But the show doesn’t actually provide answers to these questions. Indeed, one of the other major criticisms that I have of Bly is that it confines all of Viola’s development to the eighth episode alone. I really think that it needed to have done way more to characterize her threat and at least gestureat her history sooner, rather than leaving it all to that penultimate episode, interrupting and drawing out the exact moment when she’s about to kill Dani. (Like, after centuries of Viola indiscriminately killing people, and with so many ghosts that’ve been loitering around for so long because of that, wouldn’t Bly Manor have rampant ghost stories floating around about it by the time Dani arrives? But there’s only one minor suggestion of that possibility: Henry indicating that he might’ve met a soldier ghost once. That’s it. And on that note, all of the ghosts at the manor needed to have had more screentime and development, really). Further, it’s disappointing that the show devotes that entire eighth episode to accounting for Viola’s motivations, only to then reduce her to Big, Bad, Unspeakable Evil in the final episode, with no rhyme or reason for what she’s doing, all so that she can necessitate Dani’s death.
As we continue pondering these unanswered questions, there’s also another issue that I want to raise, which the show abandons only as an oblique, obscure consideration. And that is: How the hell did Jamie acquire all that extensive knowledge about Viola, the ghosts of the manor, and all that happened, such that she is able to tell Bly’sstory in such rich detail? My own sort of headcanon answer to this is that Viola’s possession of Dani somehow enabled Viola to regain some of her own memories—as well as, perhaps, a more extended, yet also limited awareness of the enduring consciousnesses of the other ghosts—while also, in turn, giving Dani access to them, too. Dani then could have divulged what she learned to Jamie, which would account for how Jamie knows so much. I bring this up because it provides one possible response to the question of “What does Viola get out of her possession of Dani?” (especially given the significant weight that the show places on the retention of one’s memories—more on this in a moment) and because this is an important basis for both of my proposed alternative scenarios.
Before we dig into those alternative scenarios, however, there’s also a thematic modification that I want to suggest, which would help to provide another answer to “What does Viola get out of her possession of Dani?” while also alleviating the issues that lead into the valorization of Dani’s suicide. That thematic modification involves how the show defines love. Although Bly’s sustained contrasts between love and possession have some valuable elements, I think that the ending would’ve benefitted from downplaying the love vs. possession theme (which is where we run into so much trouble with Dani’s self-sacrifice, and which has also resulted in some celebratory conflations between “selflessness” and self-sacrifice that I’ve seen crop up in commentary about the show—but, y’all, self-sacrifice is not something to celebrate in romantic partnerships, so please, please be careful idolizing that) to instead play up a different theme: the idea that love is the experience of feeling such safety and security with another person that we can find opportunities for peace by being with them.
Seeking peace—and people with whom to feel safe enough to share traumas and experience peace—is a theme that already runs rampant across the show, so this modification is really just a matter of accentuating it differently. It’s also closely linked to the moving through grief theme that we’ve already discussed at length, as numerous characters in Bly express desires for solitude with loved ones as a way of finding relief and healing from their pain, grief, and trauma. (And I suspect that I latched onto this because I have desperately wanted peace, calm, and stillness in the midst of my own acute, compounding traumas…and because my own former romantic partner was obviously not someone with whom I felt safe enough to experience the kind of peace that would’ve allowed me to begin the process of healing).
We run into this idea early in the development of Jamie and Dani’s romance, as narrator Jamie explains in the scene leading up to their first kiss, “The au pair was tired. She’d been tired for so long. Yet without even realizing she was doing it, she found herself taking her own advice that she’d given to Miles. She’d chosen someone to keep close to her that she could feel tired around.” Following this moment, at the beginning of Episode 5, narrator Jamie then foregrounds Hannah’s search for peace (“The housekeeper knew, more than most, that deep experience was never peaceful. And because she knew this ever since she’d first called Bly home, she would always find her way back to peace within her daily routine, and it had always worked”), which calls our attention to the ways that Hannah has been retreating into her memory of her first meeting with Owen as a crucial site of peace against the shock of her own death. Grown-up Flora even gushes about “that easy silence you only get with your forever person who loves you as much as you love them” when she’s getting all teary at Jamie about her husband-to-be.
Of course, this theme is already actively at work in the show’s conclusion as well. During her “beast in the jungle” monologue, Dani tells Jamie that she feels Viola “in here. It’s so quiet…it’s so quiet. She’s in here. And this part of her that’s in here, it isn’t…peaceful.” As such, Viola’s whole entire issue is that, after all those centuries, she has not only refused to accept her own death, but she’s likewise never been at peace—she’s still not at peace. Against Viola’s unpeaceful presence, however, Dani does find peace in her life with Jamie…at least temporarily, until Viola’s continued refusal of peace leads to Dani’s self-destructive sense of fatalism. Still, in her replacement of Viola as the new Lady of the Lake, Dani exists as a prevailing force of peace (she’s “harmless as a dove”); however, incidentally, she only accomplishes this through the decidedly non-peaceful, violent act of taking her own life.
But…what if that hadn’t been the case?
What if, instead, the peace that Dani finds in her beautiful, queer, non-self-sacrificing existence with Jamie had also enabled Viola to find some sense of peace of her own? What if, through her inhabitation of Dani, Viola managed to, like…calm the fuck down some? What if Dani’s safety and solitude worked to at least somewhat assuage Viola’s rage—and even guide her towards some other form of acceptance?
Depending on how this developed, the show could’ve borne out the potential for a much more subversive conclusion than what we actually got. Rather than All-Consuming-Evil Viola’s forced dissolution through the violence of Dani’s redemptive self-sacrifice (and its attendant recuperation of heteronormativity), we could’ve instead had the makings of a narrative about sapphic love as a source of healing that’s capable of breaking cycles of violence and trauma. And I think that it would’ve been possible for the show to accomplish this without a purely “happy” ending in which everything was just magically fine, and all the trauma dissipated, and there were no problems in the world ever again. The show could have, in fact, managed this while preserving the allegorical possibilities of Viola’s presence as mental and/or terminal illness.
But, before I can start describing how this could’ve happened, there’s one last little outstanding problem that I need to address. In the video essay that I cited earlier, Rowan Ellis suggests that there are limitations to the “Viola as a stand-in for mental/terminal illness” reading of the show because of the fact that Dani invites Viola into herself and, therefore, willingly brings on her own suffering. But I don’t think that this is quite the case or that it interferes with these allegorical readings. As I’ve already mentioned at various points, Dani doesn’t entirely understand the implications of what she’s doing when she issues her invitation to Viola; and even so, the invitation is still a matter of a dubious consent that evidently cannot be withdrawn once initially granted—at the absolute most generous characterization. Dani’s invitation is a snap decision, a frantic attempt to save Flora after everyone and everything else has failed. Consequently, we don’t necessarily have to construe Viola’s presence in Dani’s life as a matter of Dani “willingly inviting her own suffering,” but can instead understand it as the wounds and traumas that persist after Dani has risked her life to rescue Flora. In this way, the show could have also challenged the traditional heroic-redemptive narrative formula by offering a more explicit commentary on the all-too-often unseen ramifications of selflessly “heroic” actions (instead of just heedlessly perpetuating their glorification and, with them, self-sacrifice). Dani may have saved Flora—but at what cost to herself? What long-term toll might this lasting trauma exact on her?
And with that, we move into my two alternative ending scenarios.
Alternative Ending 1: Progressive Memory Loss
Memory and its loss are such significant themes in Bly Manor that theycould use an essay all their own.
I am, however, going to refrain from writing such an essay at this moment in time (I’m already super tired from writing this one, lol).
Still, the first of my alternative scenarios would bring these major themes full-circle—and would make Jamie eat her words.
In this alternative scenario, Viola would find some sense of peace—even if fraught and, at times, tumultuous—in her possession of Dani. As her rage subsides, she is even able to regain fragmented pieces of her own memory, which Dani is also able to experience. The restoration of Viola’s memory, albeit vague and scattered, leads Dani to try to learn even more about Viola’s history at Bly in an effort to at least partially fill in the gaps. As time goes on, though, Viola’s co-habitation within Dani’s consciousness leads to the steady degradation of Dani’s own memory. The reclamation of Viola’s memories would occur, then, concomitant with a steady erosion of both herself and Dani. Thus, Dani would still undergo an inexorable decline across the show’s ending, but one more explicitly akin to degenerative neurological diseases associated with aging, accentuating the “Viola as terminal illness” allegory while also still carrying resonances of the residual reverberations of trauma (given that memory loss is often a common consequence of acute trauma). Jamie would take on the role of Dani’s caregiver, mirroring and more directly illuminating the role that Owen plays for his mother earlier in the show. By the show’s conclusion, Dani would still be alive, including during the course of the frame narrative.
I mentioned earlier in this essay that I’ve endured even more trauma and grief since my brother’s death and since my breakup with my ex-fiancé. So, I’ll share another piece of it with you now: shortly after my breakup, my dad was diagnosed with one of those degenerative neurological diseases that I listed way back at the very beginning. I moved home not only to get away from my ex, but also to become a caregiver. In the time that I’ve been home, I’ve had no choice but to behold my dad’s continuous, irreversible decline and his indescribable suffering. He has further health issues, including a form of cancer. As a result, he now harbors a sense of fatalism that he’ll never be able to reconcile—he does not have the cognitive capacities to address his despair or turn it into some other form of acceptance. He is merely, in essence, awaiting his death. Hence, fatalism is something that I have had to “accept” as a regular component of my own life. (In light of this situation, you may be wondering if I have thoughts and opinions on medical aid in dying, given all that I have had to say so far about fatalism and suicide. And the answer is yes, I do have thoughts and opinions…but they are complex, and I don’t really want to try to account for them here).
Indeed, I live in a suspended, indefinite state of grieving. Day in and day out, I watch my father perish before my eyes, anticipating the blow of fresh grief that will strike when he dies. I watch my mother’s grief. I watch my father’s grief. He forgets about the symptoms of his disease; he looks up his disease to try to learn about it; he re-discovers his inevitable demise anew; the grieving process restarts again. (“She would wake, she would walk, she would forget […] and she would fade and fade and fade”).
What, then, does acceptance look like when grief is so ongoing and so protracted?
What does acceptance look like in the absence of any possibility of acceptance?
Kübler-Ross’s “five stages of grief” model has been a meaningful guide for countless folks in their efforts to navigate grief and loss. Yet, the model has also been subject to a great deal of critique. Critics have accused the model of, among other things, suggesting that grieving is a linear process, whereby a person moves from one stage to the next and then ends conclusively at acceptance (when grieving is, in fact, an incredibly uneven, nonlinear, and inconclusive process). Relatedly, they have also called attention to the fact that the model commonly gets used prescriptively in ways that usher grieving folks towards the end goal of acceptance and cast judgment on those who do not reach that stage. These are criticisms that I would level at Bly’s application of Kübler-Ross as well. Earlier, we thoroughly covered the show’sissues with grief and acceptance as major themes; but in addition to those issues, Bly alsotends to steer its characters towards abrupt endpoints of acceptance, while doling out punishments to those who “refuse” to accept. At root, there are normative ascriptions at work in the show’s very characterization of deferred acceptance as refusal and acceptance itself as an active choice that one has to make.
This alternative ending, then, would have the potential to challenge and complicate the show’s handling of grief by approaching Jamie’s grieving and Dani’s fatalism from very different angles. As Dani’s caregiver, Jamie would encounter and negotiate grief in ongoing and processual ways, which would continue to evolve as her wife’s condition worsens and her caregiving responsibilities mount, thereby lending new layers of meaning to the message that “To truly love another person is to accept that the work of loving them is worth the pain of losing them.” Dani’s fatalism here could also serve as a different interpretation of James’s Beast in the Jungle; perhaps her sense of fatalism ebbs and flows, morphs and contorts along with the progression of her memory loss as she anticipates the gradual whittling-away of her selfhood—or even forgets that inevitability entirely. Still a tragic, heart-rending ending to the show, this scenario may not have the dramatic force of Jamie screaming into the waters of the lake, but it would be a relatable depiction of the ways that many real-life romances conclude. (And, having witnessed the extent of my mom’s ongoing caregiving for my dad, lemme tell ya: if y’all really want a portrayal of selflessness in romantic partnerships, I can think of nothing more selfless than caring for one’s terminally ill partner across their gradual death).
Additionally, this scenario could allow the show to maintain the frame narrative, while also packing fresh complexities into it.
Perhaps, in this case, Dani is still alive, but Jamie has come to Flora’s wedding alone, leaving Dani with in-home caregivers or within assisted living or some such. She comes there determined to ensure that Miles and Flora regain at least some awareness of what Dani did for them—that they remember her. The act of telling Dani’s story, then, becomes not only the performance of a mourning ritual, but also a vital way of preserving and perpetuating Dani’s memory where both the children and Dani, herself, can no longer remember. To be sure, such purposes already compel Jamie’s storytelling in the show: Narrator Jamie indicates that the new Lady of the Lake will eventually lose her recollection of the life she had with the gardener, “leaving the only trace of who she once was in the memory of the woman who loved her most.” But in the context of a conclusion so focused on memory loss, this statement would take on new dimensions of import. In this way, the frame narrative might also more forcefully prompt us, the audience, to reflect on the waysthat we can carry on the memories of our loved ones by telling their stories—and also, maybe, the responsibilities that we may have to do so. “Almost no one even remembers how she was when her mind hadn’t gone,” Jamie remarks after returning from Owen’s mother’s funeral, a subtle indictment of just how easily we can lose our own memories of those who suffer from conditions like dementia—how easily we can fail to carry on the stories of the people they were before and to keep their memories alive. (“We are all just stories in the end,” Olivia Crain emphasizes during the eulogy for Shirl’s kitten in The Haunting of Hill House. In fact, there’re some interesting comparative analyses we could do about storytelling and the responsibilities incumbent on storytellers between these two Flanagan shows).
Along those lines, I think that this would’ve been an excellent opportunity for the show to exacerbate and foreground those latent tensions between Jamie and Owen (and maybe also Henry) about whether to share Dani’s story with the now-adult children.
In the show’s explorations of memory loss, there’re already some interesting but largely neglected undercurrents churning around about the idea that maybe losing one’s memory isn’t just a curse or a heartbreaking misfortune (as it is for Viola, the ghosts of Bly Manor, and Owen’s mother), but can, in certain circumstances, be a blessing. Bly implies—via Owen and the frame narrative—that Miles and Flora have been able to flourish in their lives because they have forgotten what happened at Bly and still remain blissfully unaware of it…which, to be clear, is only possible because of the sacrifices that Dani and Jamie have made. But this situation raises, and leaves floating there, a bunch of questions about the responsibilities we have to impart traumatic histories to younger generations—whether interpersonally (e.g. within families) or societally (e.g. in history classrooms). Cycles of trauma don’t end by shielding younger generations from the past; they especially don’t end by forcing impacted, oppressed, traumatized populations (e.g. queer folks) to shoulder the burdens of trauma on their own for the sake of protecting another population’s innocent ignorance. But how do we impart traumatic histories? How do we do so responsibly, compassionately, in ways that respect those harrowing pasts—and those who lived them, those most directly impacted by them—without actively causing harm to receiving audiences? On the other hand, if we over-privilege the innocence of those who have forgotten or those who weren’t directly impacted, what do we lose and what do we risk by not having frank, open conversations about traumatic histories?
As it stands, I think that Bly is remiss in the way it tosses out these issues, but never actually does anything with them. It could have done much, much more. In this alternate ending, then, there could be some productive disagreement among Jamie, Owen, and Henry about whether to tell Flora and Miles, what to tell them, how to tell them. Perhaps, in her seizing of the conversation and her launching of the story in such a public way, Jamie has taken matters into her own hands and has done so in a way that Owen and Henry can’t easily derail. Perhaps Owen sympathizes but does, indeed, abruptly cut her off just before her audience can completely connect the dots. Perhaps Henry is conflicted and doesn’t take a stand—or perhaps he does. Perhaps we find out that Henry had been torn about whether to even invite Jamie because of the possibility of something like this happening. Or, perhaps Henry wants the children to know and believes that they should hear Dani’s story from Jamie. Perhaps we see scenes of past quarrels between Jamie and Owen, Owen and Henry. Perhaps, once the story has ended, we see a brief aftermath conversation between Owen and Jamie about what Jamie has done, their speculations about how it may impact Miles and Flora. Perhaps the show presents these conversations in ways that challenge us to reflect on them, even if it does not provide conclusive answers to the questions it raises, and even if it leaves these conflicts open-ended, largely unresolved.
Alternative Ending 2: Living with the Trauma
If Bly’s creators had wanted Viola’s inhabitation of Dani to represent the ongoing struggles of living—and loving someone—with severe mental illness and trauma, they could have also just…done that? Like, they could have just portrayed Jamie and Dani living their lives together and dealing with Viola along the way. They could have just let that be it. It wouldn’t have been necessary to include Dani’s death within the show’s depicted timeline at all.
The show could’ve more closely aligned its treatment of Dani’s fatalism with James’s Beast in the Jungle—but with, perhaps, a bit more of a hopeful spin. Perhaps, early on, Dani is convinced that her demise is imminent and incontrovertible, much as we already see in the final episode’s diner scene. For a while, this outlook continues to dominate her existence in ways that interfere with her daily functioning and her relationship with Jamie. Perhaps there’s an equivalent of the flooded bathtub scene, but it happens much earlier in the progression of their partnership: Dani despairs, and Jamie is there to reinforce her commitment to staying with Dani through it all, much like her extant “If you can’t feel anything, then I’ll feel everything for the both of us” remarks. But maybe, as a result of this, Dani comes to a realization much like The Beast in the Jungle’s John Marcher—but one that enables her to act on her newfound understanding, an opportunity that Marcher never finds before it’s too late. Maybe she realizes that her fatalism has been causing her to miss out on really, truly embracing the life that she and Jamie have been forging together, thus echoing the show’s earlier points about how unresolved trauma can impede our cultivation of meaningful relationships. Maybe she realizes that her life with Jamie has been passing her by while she’s remained so convinced that Viola will claim that life at any moment. Maybe she comes to understand that her perpetual sense of dread has been hurting Jamie—that Jamie needs her in the same ways that she needs Jamie, but that Dani’s ever-present sense of doom has been preventing her from providing for those needs. And maybe this leads to a re-framing of the “you, me, us,” conceit, with a scene in which Dani acknowledges the extent to which her fatalism has been dictating their lives; in light of this acknowledgement, she and Jamie resolve—together—to continue supporting each other as they navigate Viola’s lasting influences on their lives.
By making this suggestion, I once again do not want to seem like I’m advocating that “Dani should fight back against Viola” (or, in other words, that “Dani should fight harder to win the battle against her mental illness”). But I do want to direct us back to a point that I raised at the very beginning: grieving, traumatized, and mentally ill folks can, indeed, cause harm to our loved ones. Our grief, trauma, and mental illness don’t excuse that fact. But what that means is that we have to take responsibility for our harmful actions. What it absolutely does not mean is that our harms are inevitable or that our loved ones would be better off without us.It means recognizing that we still matter and have value to others, despite the narratives we craft to try to convince ourselves otherwise. It means acknowledging the wounds that fatalistic, “everybody is better without me” assumptions can inflict. It means identifying the ways that we can support and care for our loved ones, even through our own struggles with our mental health.
“Fighting harder to win the battle against mental illness” is a callous and downright incorrect framing of the matter; but there are, nevertheless, intentional steps that we must take to heal from trauma, to receive treatment for our mental illnesses, to care for ourselves, to care for our loved ones. For instance…the very process of writing this essay incited me to do a lot of reflecting on the self-defeating narratives that I have been telling myself about my mental health and my relationships with others. And that, in turn, incited me to do some course-correcting. I thought about how much I want to work towards healing, however convoluted and intricate that process may be. I thought about how I want to support my family. How I want to foster a robust social support network, such that I feel a genuine sense of community. How I want to be an attentive friend. How, someday, if I’m fortunate enough to have a girlfriend, I want to be a caring, present, and equal partner to her; I want to emotionally nourish her through life’s trials and turmoil, not just expect her to provide that emotional nourishment for me. I started writing this essay in August; and since then, because of it, I’ve held myself accountable by reaching out to friends, spending time with them, trying to support them. I’ve also managed to get myself, finally, to start therapy. And my therapist is already helping me address those self-defeating narratives that have led me to believe that I’m just a burden on my friends. So, y’know, I’m workin’ on it.
But it ain’t pretty. And it also ain’t a linear upward trajectory of consistent improvement. It’s messy. Sometimes, frankly, it’s real ugly.
It could be for Dani, too.
Even with her decision to accept the certainties and uncertainties of Viola’s intrusive presence in her life, to live her life as best she can in the face of it all, perhaps Dani still struggles from day to day. Perhaps some days are better than others. Perhaps Viola, as I suggested earlier, begins finding some modicum of peace through her possession of Dani; nonetheless, her rage and disquiet never entirely subside, and they still periodically overtake Dani. Perhaps Dani improves, only to then backslide, only to then find ways to stabilize once again. In this way, the show could’ve more precisely portrayed the muddled, tumultuous lastingness of grief and trauma throughout a lifetime—without concluding that struggle with a valorized suicide.
Such portrayals are not unprecedented in horror. As I contemplated this ending possibility, I couldn’t help but think of The Babadook (2014), another piece of horror media whose monster carries allegorical import as a representation of the endurance and obtrusion of unresolved trauma. The titular monster doesn’t disappear at the film’s end; Sam emphasizes, in fact, that “you can’t get rid of the Babadook.” And so, even after Amelia has confronted the Babadook and locked him in the basement of the family’s home, he continues to lurk there, still aggressive and threatening to overcome her, but able to be pacified with a bowlful of worms. Like loss and trauma, the Babadook can never be totally ignored or dispelled, only assuaged with necessary, recurrent attention and feedings.
Bly could have easily done something similar with Viola. Perhaps, in the same way that Amelia has to regularly provide the Babadook with an offering of worms, Dani must also “feed” Viola to soothe her rage. What might those feedings look like? What might they consist of? Perhaps Viola draws Dani back to Bly Manor, insisting on revisiting those same sites that have held implacable sway over her for centuries. Perhaps these visits are what permit Dani to gradually learn about Viola: who she was, what she has become, why she has tarried between life and death for so long. Perhaps Dani also learns that these “feedings” agitate Viola for a while, stirring her into fresh furor—but that, in their wake, Viola also settles more deeply and for longer periods. Perhaps they necessitate that Dani and Jamie both directly confront their own traumas, bring them to the surface, attend to them. Perhaps, together, they learn how to navigate their traumas in productive, mutually supportive ways. Perhaps this is also what quiets Viola over time, even if Dani is never quite sure whether Viola will return to claim her life.
You may be wondering, then, about what happens with the frame narrative in this scenario. If Dani doesn’t meet some tragic demise, what happens to the role and significance of grieving in the act of Jamie’s storytelling? Would Jamie’s storytelling even occur? Wouldn’t Dani just be at Flora’s wedding, too? Would we miss the emotional gut-punch of the reveal of the narrator’s identity at the end?  
Perhaps, in this case, the ending removes some of the weight off of the grief theme to instead foreground those troubled deliberations about how to impart traumatic histories (as we covered in the previous scenario). As such, the frame could feature those conflicts between Jamie (and Dani here too this time), Owen, and Henry concerning whether or not to tell Dani’s story to Miles and Flora. Perhaps Dani decides not to attend the wedding, wary of contributing to this conflict at the scene of what should be a joyous occasion for Flora; perhaps she feels like she can’t even face the children. And then, without Dani there, perhaps an overwrought Jamie jumps into the story when the opportunity presents itself—whether impulsively or premeditatedly.
Or…Perhaps the show could’ve just scrapped the frame at Flora’s wedding and could’ve done something else instead. What might that be? I have no idea! Sky’s the limit.
At any rate, even with these changes, it would’ve still been possible to have the show conclude in a sentimental, tear-jerking way (which seems to be Flanagan’s preference). Perhaps Jamie’s storytelling does spark the return of the children’s memories. Perhaps, as they begin to remember, they reach out to Dani and Jamie, wanting to connect with them, wanting especially to see Dani again. And then, perhaps, the show could’ve ended with a scene of Miles and Flora finally reuniting with Dani—emotional, sweet, and memorable, no valorized suicide or exploitation of queer tragedy needed.
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Conclusion
In my writing of this essay—and over the course of the Bly Manor and Hill House rewatches that it inspired—I’ve been finding myself also doing a great deal of reflection about the possibilities and purposes of horror media. I’ve been thinking, in particular, about the potential for the horror genre to provide contained settings in which we can face and explore our deepest fears and traumas in (relatively) safe, controlled ways. Honestly, I think that this is part of why I enjoy Flanagan’s work so much (even if it also enrages me at the same time). If you’ve read this far, you’ll have seen just how profoundly I relate to so much of the subject matter of The Haunting of Bly Manor. It has been extremely meaningful and valuable for me to encounter the show’s depictions of topics like familial trauma, grief, loss, compulsory heterosexuality, caregiving for aging parents, so on, all of which bear so heavily on my own existence. Bly Manor produced opportunities for me to excavate and dig deeply into the worst experiences of and feelings about my life: to look at them, understand them, and give voice to them, when I’m otherwise inclined to bury them into inconspicuous docility.
Even so, the show does not handle these relatable topics as well as it could have. Flanagan and the many contributors to this horror anthology can’t just preach at us about the responsibilities of storytellers; they, too, have responsibilities as storytellers in the communication of these delicate, sensitive, weighty human experiences. And so, to reinforce a point that I made earlier, this is why I’ve written this extensive critique. It’s not because I revile the show and want to condemn it—it’s because I cherish Bly Manor immensely. It’s because I wanted more out of it. It’s because I want to hold it and its creators accountable. It’s because I want folks to think more critically about it (especially after how close I came to unreflectively accepting its messages in my own initial reception of it).
Television usually doesn’t get me this way. It’s been a long time since I was this emotionally attached to a show. So this essay has been my attempt to honor Bly with a careful, meticulous treatment. I appreciate all of the reflection and self-work that it has inspired me to undertake. I’ve wanted to pay my respects in the best way I know how: with close, thorough analysis.
If you’ve read all this mess, thanks for taking the time to do so. I hope that you’ve been able to get something out of it, too.
Representation matters, y’all.
The end.
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aranock · 2 months
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3 years ago today I came out as trans to everyone in my life. It was also the day my youtube channel started, as my first video was the avenue through which I did so. At the time I had no idea that working in the video essay space would become my job, or how much I would change. My community, my art, and getting to be myself has improved my life for the better.
So today I just wanna say, if you want to be something, if you think you can't transition, I promise you you can. If you are someone trapped in a situation that makes coming out impossible right now, I hope that changes soon, I know how much waiting to become hurts.
Anyway I am nearly done my next essay, I unfortunately did not finish it in time to release today. However I do need to draw a thumbnail for it, so I am going to do so as part of a trans birthday stream today probably starting in the afternoon 2/3ish pm CST. I hope to see y'all there! (links in bio) 💜
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heliza24 · 11 months
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The Radical Act of Quitting (and Wilhelm)
This is a little more personal than my Young Royals metas normally are. It’s really one-half personal essay, one-half show analysis.  It’s something of a spiritual successor to my post about radical acceptance and Simon’s arc in season 2. And it’s also about the reasons why I want Wilhelm to renounce the crown by the end of season 3. (I am stating that early, because I know many people disagree. Feel free to engage but please do so with kindness; a lot of this is quite vulnerable for me.)
I’m disabled. Specifically, I have a chronic condition that began in my early twenties, and slowly got worse and worse until I was finally diagnosed at 28. I’m 31 now, and I’ve had to grieve the person I once was many times over. I used to be a dancer, I used to be an adventurous eater, I used to love to travel. My chronic pain and restrictive medical diet have taken those things away from me, piece by piece. But the thing I mainly want to talk about right now is quitting my job. At the time of my diagnosis, I had worked at my job full time for three years. For a few years after my diagnosis, I tried to remain at my job part-time, because I loved it. I worked in the music industry, and I had the best team of coworkers. I had a great work/life balance, I was never stressed about work. I looked forward to each day in the office. When I went to events and had to introduce myself during an ice-breaker, I would usually include a fact about my job. I found a lot of my identity there. All of my work directly supported musicians, which was something I was very proud of.
So I tried very, very hard to hang on to my job. My company gave out these ridiculously heavy plaques for employees who had been at the company for 5 years, and I was determined to get one. But it was really hard. I could no longer type sitting up for more than a few minutes, so I did every day from my lap desk in bed. (This is still where I write all of my fic and meta!) I struggled to talk to customers on the phone while I was in pain. The office was closed because of the pandemic, but I would have had to work from home regardless because I couldn’t handle the commute.  Every day was a slog. And my pain and fatigue weren’t getting better. In fact they were continuing to get worse as time went on. Finally, my five-year work anniversary arrived. I made it, but I felt like a runner barely stumbling over the finish line. It was the end of 2021. I talked with my friends and my therapist and my disability benefits lawyer. “I don’t think I can keep working,” I would say. And then I would cry, because the thought of letting go of this last part of my identity, when my illness had already taken so much, was so horrible.
After several months of deliberating and grieving, I quit.  My boss begged me to reconsider (God bless him, honestly). Was there anything he could do to better accommodate my needs? Could I work a different schedule to let me sleep more? Could I work freelance on specific projects they really needed me on? I wanted to say yes so badly. But I knew. The longer I held on, the more I fought, the worse my health would become. And the worse my health would become, the more I would struggle with work. The joy I had felt during my first three years in that office had already drained away. I was fighting just to get through each day, and I didn’t want to fight anymore.
I recognize that having the resources and disability benefits to even consider quitting is a huge privilege. There are a lot of disabled and chronically ill folks who struggle through work at great detriment to their health because they can’t afford not to keep working.  So I recognize how lucky I was to be able to quit. I am so grateful for that option, even as I mourn all the things I have lost.
In my meta about Simon, I talked about radical acceptance and how it has been my guiding light as a disabled person. Embracing radical acceptance means that I have done my best to accept what I can and cannot do, and what I can and cannot control, without judgment. I accepted that I needed to walk away from my job. But how was I supposed to define myself without it?
Capitalism defines most peoples’ self-identity, whether they realize it or not. We identify with our jobs, or with the “grind” culture, or with the moral goodness associated with working hard. But here I was, without a job. And I had my whole adult life ahead of me. I had to find a way to make a new identity outside of work.
Around this time, I started to gravitate towards stories where characters are faced with similar decisions, even if I didn’t realize it yet. And let me tell you, there aren’t many of them.
@bluedalahorse and I talk about this a lot. In our ultra-franchised world, the point of stories, even those that are supposedly about rebellions, is often to return characters to the status quo, so that the next movie/comic/episode can pick back up where the last one left off. And when there is a significant change in the status quo, it is usually because the characters worked, and pushed, and struggled to achieve that change. It’s very rare to see a story about someone who walked away from something that was harming them. It’s rarer still to find something that deals with the aftermath, as characters work to re-establish themselves.
I’ve found a lot of comfort in true stories of people leaving cults and high demand religions, and of queer people forced to leave their conservative families behind. In all of these cases, people are consciously abandoning a predominant belief system that is harming them, and have to start over as they craft their new sense of identity. (I am also queer, which adds an additional level of connection). Often people in these situations come to rely on their found family, a thing I have also found to be true in my own life.
I quit my job in between seasons 1 and 2 of Young Royals, and I don’t think I realized how many themes connected my experience to Wilhelm’s until I was watching season 2. Wilhelm is the protagonist of Young Royals, and his central dramatic question has always been: will he fulfill his duty as a royal? Or will he quit, and discover who he is beyond the system he was raised in? Simon is a huge part of this decision, obviously, but the question has never been strictly about Simon.
While I have no personal experience with the monarchy, I do know what it’s like to consider walking away from a role that you assumed you would fill for the rest of your life. I know what it’s like to think about quitting your job.
There’s so much pressure on Wilhelm to assume the role of perfect Crown Prince. He’s told constantly—by Kristina, by Jan-Olof, by the court-- that he can’t let his family or his country down by deviating from this role in any way.
This is a pretty common experience for people who are trying to quit something. They are told that they will let down those around them if they leave. People who are leaving high demand religions are told that they will not be able to enter heaven.  Queer people in conservative families are told they can’t come out because “it would break [elderly relative]’s heart and kill them.” When I quit my job, I thought a lot about how I’d be letting down my coworkers and everyone who knew me as a hyper-competent career-driven person.(This included some of my doctors by the way, who expressed their disappointment in my failure to adhere to their idea of a “worthy” disabled person, i.e. someone who soldiered through the pain and continued to work. Some withdrew care because of this and honestly I will never forgive them). And maybe I was letting people down, and maybe ex-Mormons really will spend the afterlife in outer darkness, and maybe all the grandmas of queer people will be so upset that they kick the bucket when their grandkids come out. But ultimately, if your happiness or safety or well being depends on leaving, it doesn’t really matter. You have to do it anyway.  You have to abandon the things that you can no longer carry. You have to discover who you are on the other side of religion, of the closet, of capitalism.
I think about this every time people in the fandom talk about how Wilhelm leaving the line of succession will create a constitutional crisis, or impact all of Sweden negatively. I am personally pretty anti-monarchist, but I honestly can’t even tell you if I think that Wilhelm removing himself from the line of succession would bring about the end of the Swedish monarchy or not. Honestly, I don’t really care.  I care about Wilhelm. I want him to seek happiness, to search for the future that must live on the other side of this oppressive system he finds himself in. A constitutional crisis? That’s Kristina’s problem, that’s Jan-Olof’s problem, that’s the government’s problem. Radical acceptance means focusing on the things you can control, and Wilhelm can only control his own happiness.
When this issue gets debated, I often see people argue that Wilhelm is too young to make the decision to give up the throne. But the reality is that we ask teenagers to make decisions about their futures all the time. @bluedalahorse wrote a great piece of meta about that here. I love what she said so much I’m going to quote it directly:
Nonetheless, we ask teenagers of Sara and Wilhelm’s ages to think about decisions that affect their future all the time. We ask them to consider what career they’ll pursue or what university to attend. Teenagers who grow up in various denominations of Christianity consider whether they’re going to go through with Confirmation or sometimes Baptism. Other religions (ones where I can’t speak from as much personal experience) have various other rites of passage around this age, and various cultures have coming of age rituals. For some teens, they do these things willingly and with their whole heart, whereas for others, they do it to please their parents or families or for the social norms of it all.
And if Wilhelm is too young to decide to give up the throne, how can he be old enough to decide to keep it? Surely the decision to take on the governance of a country, even in a symbolic way, requires as much, if not more, maturity than the decision to pursue a less high-powered career elsewhere.
When people in the fandom claim that Wilhelm is too young to make this decision, I hear Kristina telling Wilhelm to wait until he’s 18 to come out, because only then will he be responsible enough to deal with the consequences. That’s a delaying tactic, and nothing more. People who don’t want you to leave will ask you to delay your decision over and over again, because they think that if they can kick the can down the road just a little farther, they’ll never have to lose you.
I also see people argue that Wilhelm isn’t qualified to make a decision because he doesn’t know enough about the “real world” to know what he is choosing. To be honest I don’t think most teenagers know much about the “real world”. I definitely didn’t. But we ask them to make decisions that will affect their futures anyway. And here’s another way to look at this: Wilhelm has plenty of places he can look to for examples of how “ordinary” people live. He can find out what it’s like to be from a noble but non-royal family from the students at Hillerska. He can talk to Simon and Linda about what their lives are like. He can read the millions of books, or watch the thousands of movies and TV shows that feature non-royal protagonists and were created by non-royal artists. But only Wilhelm knows what it is like to be Crown Prince. No one else has had that experience. So I would argue that actually, Wilhelm is the only one qualified to make this call.
Ultimately, the agency and mental capacity of people who are quitting is often doubted, usually by the people who have the most to gain by keeping them in place.
So many people have so much invested in maintaining the status quo. And as soon as you invest in a system, someone daring to leave puts your world view into question. Why are you dealing with so many oppressive rules if someone else can just leave? We see this a lot with high demand religions and cults; if someone threatens to break free, the members often join ranks and work together to pressure them to stay. What has your sacrifice as a woman in a patriarchal religion meant, for example, if another woman can decide to simply walk away? Does Kristina’s grim life of duty and sacrifice matter, if Wilhelm can just opt out and seek happiness instead? 
Then of course, there are all the benefits that an oppressive system confers on its most privileged members. Those benefits are in danger of disappearing if enough people quit, so high ranking people will work to keep others in line.  Think about all the people who benefit from the monarchy: all the staff who work for the royal family, all the nobles who get their reputation by proximity to the monarch, and everyone in Sweden who in general benefits from the image that a long-standing institution of white, straight, conservative power projects.
And those aren’t people Wilhelm needs to be responsible for (or should be concerned with placating, to be honest). If the monarchy fails because Wilhelm leaves, it’s because there’s always been a fault in the system. Those relying on this outdated system have signed their own fate.
No one knows fully what life will be like after they quit. That’s the radical acceptance part of quitting. You have to make a blind leap, and discover a whole new world once you land. Wilhelm is no more sheltered than anyone before they take this leap. Everyone who quits—a religion, a cult, a job—has to go through this process of rediscovery.  You have to learn by doing. People do that successfully all the time, and I believe that Wilhelm can too.
When I was talking about this meta with @bluedalahorse, we talked a lot about Plato’s allegory of the cave. That story goes something like this:
Several prisoners have been kept inside a cave their entire life. They are chained to the spot, and cannot move. They are facing the back wall of the cave. Behind them is a fire, and in between them and the fire, their captors walk back and forth, casting shadows on the wall. Because the prisoners have been kept in the cave their entire life and have only ever seen shadows, they think the shadows are real. They think the only thing that exists in the world is shadows. Until one day, one of the prisoners is set free. He goes outside for the first time, where he is blinded by the sun and overwhelmed by stimulus. But he discovers the real world. He now knows that the shadows he was used to are pale imitations of the real things. He’s so excited that he goes back to tell his fellow prisoners what he has learned. But the prisoners get angry at him for challenging their world view. They don’t believe him, no matter what he says.
There are a lot of ways you can interpret this story. Some people think that Plato is talking about the role of philosophers in society. Some people use it to explain a philosophical concept he writes about elsewhere called “forms”. But I think one thing is clear. Plato didn’t write the allegory of the cave (and it didn’t stick around in human imagination for thousands of years) because he thought you should stay in the cave. Leaving the cave is hard. You will be met with resistance. But discovering the real world, when you were only seeing shadows before, is worth it.
I want Wilhelm to leave to be happy, to see the real world instead of shadows. But I also believe it’s what the story demands. It’s the only answer that makes asking the dramatic question—should Wilhelm conform or rebel?—worthwhile to me.
To be king, but to be the first gay king, would be such an unsatisfactory ending for me. It reminds me of how hard I tried to keep my job—by working from bed, by reducing my hours. My boss could do the best he could to be accommodating, but ultimately working was harming me. You can’t adapt the monarchy enough to make it a non-damaging space for Wilhelm, because there will always be people pressuring him to conform to its straight, stoic ideals. Those ideals have been around for hundreds of years, and to put all of the burden of reforming them on Wilhelm is unfair and unrealistic. If he does stay, I see him struggling to change a system that is not designed for him. Even if he does make small victories for representation or inclusion in that context, it will come at an enormous emotional cost. I just don’t think it’s worth it. Not when there’s a whole world where Wilhelm could be doing good, important work– in whatever arena he chooses– that won’t also come along with inherent emotional trauma. 
Believe me, there’s a whole world to be discovered after you walk away from something that’s damaging you. You grieve, yes, but you also grow. Since quitting I’ve been able to love my friends harder, to treat myself better, to give back to the disabled community.  I think if you talk to most people who have committed a similar act of radical quitting they’ll say the same thing.  I want this future for Wilhelm, but I also want this kind of story to exist for all of us. I want there to be a story that represents those of us who have had to make these kinds of decisions. I want there to be a story that can encourage people who are currently wrestling with their desire to leave and the pressure to stay. And I want there to be a story that shows the hope, the bravery, and the self-belief that is required to walk away and seek a brighter future.
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maraschinomerry · 8 months
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True to form I'm a day late but happy 10th anniversary to The Screaming Staircase! (And thank you Linnie for your post which reminded me this is a thing and inspired me to post my own)
Lockwood & Co as a show had been on my radar pretty much since it launched - it must have popped up on my Netflix at some point, and I already had a couple of mutuals posting about it. I saw and liked the gifsets with the spirit of "I don't even go here but this looks cool", finally in March I went "wait, why don't I watch this? There's literally no barrier beyond my own stubbornness" and thank goodness I did.
I still cannot get over how deeply I connected with the show, and the way it taps into everything I'd have loved at 13 or 18 alike and is equally enjoyable now at 25. The unabashed love shown between the Iron Trio is so refreshing and sincere, and it gives me hope for my own place within the group I've chosen as my second family. The world that Jonathan Stroud has constructed is amazing and I would love it wherever it was set, but like my other favourite shows/universe (Morseverse) being so intrinsically linked with Oxford that I can spend days there just wandering between locations I love that Lockwood & Co has a deliberate and well-established base in London. A few months ago I passed through St Pancras alone and was so ecstatic to be sharing in a little of Lucy's journey, and just last week I excitedly pointed out Sidcup on a station departure board when I was down there with my brother.
Of course, I couldn't talk about Lockwood & Co's impact without expressing my eternal gratitude to the show and the fandom for reigniting my creativity. I haven't finished it yet, but I'm further into The Screaming Staircase than I have been in a book for years. I'd been in the most intense artistic slump, having barely done anything creative in months, but then I was able to dedicate a good 10 hours to my Lockwood portrait and close to that on my unfinished George one, which in turn gave me the energy for other projects. In 2020-2022 I published just under 10,000 words of fic across 2 fandoms, plus about 2500 words earlier this year of one I'm still undecided on posting. In the 6 months since I started watching Lockwood & Co, I have written a whopping 46,610 words of published fic, with about 750 words towards some of the 12 requests I have yet to finish (side note: thank you so much to everyone who has been patient with all these unfinished requests, I know it's been months for some but I promise they'll all get finished eventually!) I cannot even begin to fathom that number - that's nearly 50,000 words, written entirely of my own accord, when by comparison my 3 years of essays for my degree probably amounted to a very forced 30,000 words. All that fic I owe to the beautifully characters created by Jonathan Stroud & brought to life by Ruby, Cameron and Ali, but I also couldn't have done it without the overwhelming support of everyone who has read, liked, commented, reblogged and requested. There aren't enough words to tell you all how grateful I am, and this post would be a mile long if I named everyone personally, but I wanted to take the time to thank some of the people who have made my experience so special.
@ettadear @givemea-dam-break @honey-with-tea @ikeasupremacy @marinalor @neewtmas @oblivious-idiot @personinthepalace @reckless-enough-serenade @tangledinlove @wellgoslowly @wordsarelife
If I've missed anyone important I'm so sorry, but I love you all and am so glad to have had this time with you! Happy 10th birthday to The Screaming Staircase and the wonderful fandom it's led to 🫶
Just reckless enough.
Love, Merry ❤️ xx
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So, Slightly Aggressive Affirmer, what's your whole deal?
Great question, Clive.
(Sorry, I thought you were some sort of chat show host called Clive. Let me readjust my worldview)
Great question, friends. Why did I write Aggressive Affirmations in a consistently reliable, ritual manner for 5 years and then stop doing it and constantly keep coming back and promising to start again and never making good on it?
Well. There are actually 3 answers to that question.
.
Answer #1
To begin with, let's reposition our worldview - just as we did with Clive. Now, let's change the way we see me, The Slightly Aggressive Affirmer. What if we put a new filter over me - we'll call it the "Autism Filter". I haven't got the money to go through the diagnosis process but it's looking pretty likely.
With that filter on, look again at my being absolutely focused on writing affirmations for 5 years and then stopping to suddenly focus obsessively on my research work for the next 2 or 3 - except for the two months I took off to sit on the porch every single day and write a medieval romance novel.
Now I want to get back into affirming again and I try to - I still feel it's important and I keep saying to myself I'll do it - but I just don't have that obsessive drive to do it anymore.
I think if we look at this with the autism filter, it starts to paint a pretty clear picture of what might be going on here...
.
Answer #2
It became more and more difficult, and more high stakes to write affirmations, as the number of followers kept growing. There are now 15000 - although who knows how many of you are still on Tumblr? But that's a lot of responsibility and it became very stressful to keep making sure SAAs are for everyone and that no one feels excluded by them (excepting people who should always be excluded, like Nazis). When it was just a few random people reading affirmations, it was much easier to chuck in a few and whatever. But the more the blog grew, the greater the stress.
.
Answer #3
I started writing Slightly Aggressive Affirmations for myself. I was the only one following the blog and it was set to send ME reminders of my own value - in the kind of aggressive language necessary to get through to me - because I was extremely low on confidence and needed real force to get it in to my head. But then things snowballed.
Thing is - I don't need them any more. It's harder to think of the kinds of things I should write, because I know longer need them myself. I have Slightly Aggressively Affirmed myself to a really great place, in terms of my self confidence and self love. I still have bipolar, and right now my life isn't going so great, so I get depressed but I do not believe fundamentally, at my core, that I am bullshit trash.
My primary emotion nowadays is possibly worse! I'm driven by anger a lot of the time - I've got a lot of deep rage, caused by long ago trauma. (I'm in therapy, don't worry). But I think most people would agree that I'm a fundamentally different person to who I was pre-pandemic. I'll tell you more about it some time. But I am drastically different - and definitely more than SLIGHTLY aggressive most of the time.
.
In conclusion, I believe affirming used to be an autistic special interest of mine and now it is not - but I'd love to make it one again! Especially now my two-year long, 65 000 word research project is finished. But it's much harder to get back to where I was, because the number of followers I have now is different, Tumblr is different and I am hugely different as a person.
Thankyou for reading this short essay/memoir. I'll see what I can do about a little affirming tomorrow.
Always remember that YOU MATTER!!! YOU ARE IMPORTANT!!! YOU ARE THE ONLY FUCKING YOU IN THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD!!! THINK ABOUT HOW FUCKING MAGICAL THAT IS!!!
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bubblegump-1-nk · 1 year
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As She Walks By pt. 2
summary: Theodore and you are just best friends (or not), but when he finally hooks up with the Hufflepuff girl who’s had a crush on him for years, things may start to change
- based off of the song Heather by Conan Gray (a little bit), set in three perspectives: yours, Theos, and the Hufflepuff girl (an OC I called Althenea Circ). I made you a Gryffindor but if you want to change your house just imagine whatever house I want. You’re also kind of a home-wrecker (respect people’s relationships please lol) in this so..
- warnings: insecurity, angst, not really cheating but idk, typos probably, cussing, toxic relationships, time skips (?) - (these warnings apply to the upcoming parts as well, so you might not see some of them in some of the parts, if that makes sense) I think that’s all but tell me if you find anything else pls!
-your POV-
My mouth dried up, and suddenly I felt like I was trapped in a little box.
“Y/n?” Cho asked. She had just told you about the interaction she had overheard. Althenea Circ had asked Theo to Hogsmeade and he said yes. What was wrong with me? Why do I care? Why should I care? I snogged Dean Thomas yesterday, god why am I such a hypocrite.
“Y/n? Are you ok?” Cho asked again, interrupting my thoughts.
“Er, uh, yeah, sorry Cho.”
“It’s ok. I just thought I should tell you because, you know, Theo’s your friend.” She said, emphasizing the word ‘friend’ in a weird way. Somehow insinuating we weren’t just friends.
“Yeah, thank you. I’m going to go finish my potions essay now, but, er, I’ll see you later.” I said, quickly getting up from the library table.
“Oh, um, ok? Why not just stay in the library.” She said, giggling at my silly antics.
“Oh, I just have to grab some supplies is all.” I said, stacking my papers crudely just so I could get out quickly.
We said our goodbyes and I was quickly walking down the corridor, hoping to find an empty bathroom. I turned the corridor quickly and entered the girls lavatory and quickly locked myself in the stall.
What was wrong with me? Why did I care? Shouldn’t I be happy for Theo, and Althenea who’s practically been in love with him since forever. Why was I suddenly so possessive. None of his other flings have made me feel this way. I was being unfair. I snog whoever I want, he can do the same, right?
-Althenea’s POV-
I was getting ready in my dorm, my best friend Wesley was helping me get ready for my date with Theodore Nott. THE Theodore Nott. I seriously could not believe it.
“And his arms were around my waist, and god- he is such a good kisser.” I gushed to my friend, who was curling my hair.
“I know. I seriously could not believe it when he came up to you. I mean I’d always thought him and y/n were going to end up together.”
A sour taste entered my mouth and I fell silent - y/n. Oh Merlin how I hated her.
“Yeah,” I said with a fake laugh. “She’s nice.” I said, because she really was. One time in fourth year she helped me with my Charms Essay. But oh god how I hated her.
“Her and Theo are always together. Honestly you’d think they were soulmates!” Said Wesley.
“Ok, I get it. You think they belong together. Whatever.” I said, frustrated with my friend.
“Oh Merlin- I’m sorry A, I didn’t even realize what I was saying.” She said, suddenly realizing what she was really saying and who she was really saying it to.
“Don’t worry, I get it. I mean she is perfect” I said quietly, looking down.
“Oh come on Althenea. You know I didn’t mean it like that. Plus, you’re the one going out with him.” She said, squeezing my shoulder lightly.
“Exactly!” I said, happily.
-Theo’s POV-
I was sitting in my comfy bed, reading my good book, in my comfy sweater when Blaise interrupted me.
“Oi mate you’re still here? I thought you were supposed to go out with that, uh, Athena girl?” He said, forgetting her name.
“Holy shit!” I yelled, practically jumping out from under the covers.
“I totally forgot about that.” I said, rushing to the mirror to check how I looked.
I was wearing my quidditch sweater and some black sweatpants - that should be good for the date right? Well whatever, it’s not like I cared anyway.
“Thanks for reminding me, I guess.” I said, adding the last part as I ran out the door.
I rushed to the Hufflepuff common room, that’s what house she was in right? As I was running I bumped harshly into someone, causing them to fall backwards. I looked down and saw her, Althenea. Looking rather… mediocre.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” I said, helping her up.
“Oh don’t worry about it really. It’s sort of funny!” She said.
“Er, yeah, I guess so.” I said, scratching the back of my neck.
“Well, are you ready? I was thinking the Three Broomsticks, of course, but if you don’t like that than we could of course-“
I cut off her rambling, her stupid rambling, by saying “Three Broomsticks is fine.”
-At the pub-
“…and then I said that we should have trolls in the bathroom!” Althenea said, telling me a story I was trying so hard to be focused on.
I let out a dry chuckle before saying, “Do you want anything else?” Nodding my head down to her empty plate of food.
“Oh, no thank you! It was really nice of you to pay, you know.” She said, beaming.
“Er, yeah, it was no problem.”
We were silent for a minute or two before I said, “well, it’s getting sort of late and I have to finish up some homework.”
“Oh, yeah of course! Me too. I cant keep putting off those essays!” She said, giggling. She didn’t even think it was weird that I had said it ‘was late’ at 3 in the afternoon.
We finished up at the table and started to walk back, Althenea walking a little too close to me.
“So… what homework do you have to work on?” She asked, trying to fill the void of silence.
“Er, potions and transfigurations.” I said, saying the first two subjects I could think of.
“Me too! Maybe we could work on them together?” She asked, overly exited.
“Oh, well, um, I usually do my homework alone, sorry.” I responded, looking down at her.
“Oh, yeah, how stupid of me!” She said, lightly slapping her forehead.
Before I knew it we were back at the castle and we parted ways, not before she kissed me on the cheek. She skipped away after her lips left my side, and I just stood there dumbstruck. You know, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. I could finally get my mind off of you, someone I could never have, and Althenea wasn’t all that bad really.
-your POV-
“I’m done with him. Really.” I told Hermione, adding the last part after she gave me a strange look.
“We’re just friends. This jealousy is just forming out of something possessive, nothing else. It’s not fair of me to do that to him. Plus, she seems like a nice girl.” I continued, ranting to Hermione.
“I’m glad. The quicker you get over this the easier your life will get.” She responded.
“Exactly! I don’t want anything weird going on in our friendship and this new relationship will not be the end of Theo and I’s lifelong friendship.” I said.
-At Dinner-
“I still can’t believe it. Theodore Nott with that Hufflepuff, it just doesn’t fit.” Said Ron, loading his already overflowing plate with more food.
Theodore Nott and Althenea Circ’s date had been the talk of the night, already having been spread around all of Hogwarts.
“Did he say anything to you y/n?” Harry asked, pouring me more pumpkin juice after he noticed that I had finished my cup.
“Thank you, and, er, no. We didn’t really talk about it. You know, now that I think of it, we haven’t talked since the party.” I said, remembering my last conversation with Teddy.
“Interesting.” Said Ron, taking a bite out of his Shepard’s pie.
“It really isn’t. Nothings going on, we’ve just been busy.” I responded, aggravated by his comment.
“I’m sure you’re right, y/n. There’s nothing wrong.” Hermione said, reassuring me.
“Thanks ‘minoe.” I said, sending her a smile.
“Why don’t you go talk to him bow. Go over there and tell them all about what we heard Snape talking about.” Said Harry, trying to help me out.
“Good idea! I’ll go do it now, just to make sure there’s no tension or anything.” I said, getting up from the Gryffindor table to go tell the Slytherins about Snape saying he had always thought Sirius Black was cute.
As I began walking over to the Slytherin table, I noticed a pair of eyes on me. I turned and saw Althenea glaring at me from her table. Suddenly, she got up, and walked very quickly over to the Slytherin’s table, and sat down right next to Theo.
I stood their shocked, surely she didn’t think of me as competition right? The Slytherin friend group looked uncomfortable, but no one looked more uncomfortable than Theo. He looked around, wondering what made Circ think she could come sit with them. I saw his eyes go to the Gryffindor table, to look for me. When he didn’t find them, he looked away, but he quickly locked eyes with mine after another quick scan of the room. He sent me a smile, and a small ‘help’.
I smiled back, and began walking towards their table after my delay. I wasn’t going to let some insecure bitch ruin my friendships.
“Y/n! Thank god.” Said Mattheo, eyes darting to the Hufflepuff quickly.
“Hey guys. You won’t believe what I heard.” I said.
Theo subtly pushed Althenea away, making room for me next to him. But I wasn’t going to be that girl. So, instead I sat next to Draco. Theo looked at me confused, and I whispered just loud enough for him to hear “the Hufflepuff.” He nodded his understanding but looked sad anyway.
“Ok well tell us!” Said Pansy, reaching over the table to play with my rings.
“Well, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I were walking down the corridor when we heard Snape talking to Mcgonagall. So, obviously we eavesdropped on their conversation and Snape said ‘you know, Sirius Black was always cute. I think that’s why I hated him.��”
The group burst out laughing, all except for Althenea.
“Sirius Black? Like the murderer?” She asked, confused as to why we were all amused.
The group all knew Sirius was innocent, but I couldn’t spill information like that to Althenea, not without Harry’s permission.
“Er, yeah. But they went to school together before he was a murderer.” I explained, causing her to lightly smile to try to fit into the group.
“Ok well, I’ll be going now.” I said getting up, sending Pansy a face that she laughed at before I got up.
“Wait,” Theo said, grabbing my forearm. “Meet me in the astronomy tower later?” He asked, eyes filled with want.
“9:00, don’t be late, Nott.” I said, which he smiled at, before I walked away.
-Theo’s POV-
I stood on the tower at 8:57 PM. I leaned down on the railing, staring out onto the beautiful night sky. The wind ruffled my hair, and I noticed a strong scent of firewood. Suddenly I heard your footsteps, and your sweet perfume filled my nose.
“Hello stranger.” You said, walking up behind me.
I turned around and took a good look at your face. The moon light made you look even more ethereal than I had ever seen you, and I had no idea that was even possible.
“Stop looking at me like that.” You said, turning away from me as you leaned your arms against the railing and looked out at the view.
“Like what?” I asked.
“You know how, Teddy.”
The nickname made my heart swell up, and I didn’t have it in me to fake hating it. I was locked in your trance before you spoke again.
“Plus, I don’t think your girlfriend would be too happy about it.”
“She’s not my girlfriend!” I said, it came out angrier than I expected.
You let out a small laugh before saying, “I like her. She’s good to you.”
She’s not as good as you, is what I wanted to say, but I couldn’t.
“Yeah, I guess she is.” Is what I ended up saying instead.
We were both now leaning on the railing, looking out at Hogwarts’ vast territory, our shoulders leaning against each other.
“She’s really pretty too, and she’s sweet.” You said, your sweet voice ringing in my ears.
“Sounds like someone’s jealous.” I said, chuckling.
“What?” You said, turning to be swiftly, your eyes wide.
“Oh, uh, I only meant that you seem jealous that I’m with her. Because you talk so nicely of her. Like you want her to yourself.” I said, struggling to find an explanation.
“Oh,” you said, you’re demeanor becoming calm again. “You got me there Nott. I’m head over heels for your girl.” You said, giggling, which only made me laugh.
We stood there, laughing like some idiots as we stared out at the beautiful world.
The laughing stopped and you spoke again, “look what I brought.” You said, pulling something out of your pocket.
“Cauldron Cakes! You’re the best, you know that?” I said, grabbing the one you handed me.
We sat down with our backs leaning against the wall, eating our cauldron cakes and talking about everything and nothing. That’s the thing about you, no matter if we were talking about the recent quidditch match or ancient runes for fucks sake, it was never boring, not with you.
The wind was blowing, and I felt you shiver from under my arm.
“Here, have my sweater.” I said, lifting my arm up off your shoulder to take my quidditch sweater off.
“Oh thank you, Theo.” You said, grabbing my sweater and putting it on.
You looked so cute engulfed in my large sweater, with my last name sprawled on the back of it.
“I’ll give it back to you someday.” You said, and I hoped you never gave it back so that everyone would know you were mine. Except your not.
-Altheneas POV (a week later)-
Theo and I have been… dating(?) for a week now. I didn’t know what to call it. He hadn’t asked me out yet, but we’ve been going out on dates, and I’ve spent two nights under him already. He was starting to let me hold his hand more, but he kept saying public affection wasn’t really his thing. Except that, it always had been. Theodore Nott was known for being a softie when it came to his girlfriends, especially when it came to his girl-friend y/n. But people change, right?
Wesley has been reassuring me, but my other friend Quincy keeps telling me to get away from him. I don’t care though, Theo is mine now. For the most part.
“Hey, can you pass me your notes?” Whispered Quincy, taking me out of my thoughts.
“Oh, yeah, sure.” I said, sliding them over, trying to focus on the lesson.
“You’re the best.” She whispered back, sending me a smile.
Class ended after what felt like hours and it was finally time for lunch. Quincy and I met up with Wesley before we began walking to the Dining Hall.
“Yeah, and I heard that Avanore and Seamus hooked up.” Said Wesley.
“Avanore Dorian? Isn’t she dating Hermes?” I asked, shocked at the news.
“You bet she is. And if it’s true Seamus is in for one hell of a beating.” She responded.
Suddenly, Quincy stopped, holding both of their arms out to stop Wes and I.
“What?” I said, exasperated.
“Um..” She said.
Wesley and I looked around, trying to find the reason for Quincy’s abruptness. Wesley found it first.
“Oh my.. Are you still with Theo, A?” She asked, mouth agape.
I suddenly became very nervous, “yeah.” I said, worried.
“Look. At. That.” Wesley said, pointing to someone.
I followed her finger and when I found the object of her pointing my mouth fell open.
It was you, y/n l/n, wearing my boy’s quidditch sweater. His name sprawled out boldly on the back. How could you be walking to lunch, chatting and laughing with your friend so calmly knowing that you’re wearing another girl’s boyfriend’s sweater.
“Move please.” Said a voice, belonging to Pansy Parkinson, as she pushed past my stopped figure.
“Y/n, Hermione, wait up!” She said, causing you two to stop and wait for her.
“I like the sweater.” She said, sending you a wink.
“I know right!” Responded Hermione, giving you a playful nudge on the shoulder.
“Guys, it’s just friendly! Plus he’s with that other girl.” You said.
I couldn’t believe it. ‘That other girl’?? Seriously?? You couldn’t even say my name. I seriously couldn’t believe it. My eyes began to well up with tears.
“I’m not so hungry anymore.” Said Quincy.
“Me neither.” Said Wesley.
-your POV (later that night)-
I walked into the library, looking for Althenea.
I felt bad for what happened today, I didn’t realize it would be such a big deal. I mean, everyone knew Theo and I were best friends, and it wasn’t uncommon for me to wear his clothes. But after Hannah Abbot told me that I had made you sob, I felt terrible. And I was on a mission to find you.
I spotted you sitting in the back, with your friends Quincy and Wesley.
I walked over to your table, and cleared my throat. The girls looked up at me: Quincy was sending me a death stare, Wesley had a pathetic attempt at a glare, and you couldn’t even look me in the eye.
“Is this seat open?” I asked, pointing to the empty seat at the table.
Quincy began to say no, covering the seat with her hand but you spoke up, “yeah. It is.”
The two other girls were shocked, sending her looks of ‘are you sure??’ Which she nodded to.
“Thanks.” I said, sitting down.
We sat in silence for a few beats before I finally said, “look I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to feel insecure or anything. I’m not trying to take Teddy from you, definitely not. He’s all yours. We’re just best friends, and we have been since forever, but it’s not like that. I was only wearing his sweater because he gave it to me at the astronomy tower a week ago and it was the first thing I grabbed since I was late for class today. And trust me, you have nothing to worry about. You’re beautiful, and smart, everything Theo likes. So, really, I am sorry. But believe me when I say it was a misunderstanding. So… here.” I said, taking the sweater off and handing it to you. The three girls looked at me surprised, but I quickly got up before they could say anything.
“Thank you!” You called out as I was leaving the library, and I sent you a thumbs up as I walked out the door.
I hate being this part but it’s getting soo long so part 3 (hopefully I can write it quickly :))
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