#adam chose a different path in life and that's okay

[ad-astra-per-aspera-1389]

is she lab rats posting again? is she the martian posting? OH LOOK AT THAT ITS BOTH

anyway, lab rats elite force the martian sort of fusion au

- the rats still have their chips: they keep them in for the mars mission, since bree's fast comprehension and chase's intelligence are valuable in making sure everything goes smoothly. modified smaller capsules are made for the mission.

- kaz and oliver don't have superpowers in this au, but they did work for mighty med. skylar is still an alien, but all the wormhole technology stuff isn't public knowledge, so it isn't used on the mission

- bree is the sysop, oliver is the doctor ("flight surgeon"), kaz is the chemist (surprising, I know), leo is the backup engineer and pilot, skylar is the commander, and chase has the most mechanical engineering knowledge, as well as picking up botany experiments to pass the time (he technically has expertise in everything, but they made him pick and choose)

- obviously they're all adults in this. chase gets left on mars. theres slight broliver if you squint, I guess

anyway, chase has to survive for a year and a half on mars alone, and there are chip malfunctions to deal with, and capsule repairs...all the while he can't just remove his chip bc that's the thing allowing him to figure out how to stay alive, and if he glitches too badly...well, he can say goodbye to ever seeing his sister and brothers again, because that magnetism app is no joke.

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Sacrifices/BTR Book 2: a Jhea fanfic.

Chapter 4: let’s try this therapy shit one more time..

Flashback January 14th, 2025 11:03 AM

Rhea and Jey sat across from their therapist, an air of tension lingering between them. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the heater, breaking the otherwise still atmosphere. Jey shifted in his seat, exhaling slowly before he spoke.

“I wanted to apologize… for walking out last session,” Jey began, his tone filled with genuine remorse. He glanced at Rhea, who gave him a small, understanding nod. “I know it wasn’t fair to either of you.”

The therapist smiled warmly, nodding. “It’s okay, Jey. That’s what we’re here for. Therapy is a process, and sometimes, it brings up things we aren’t ready to face. Today, we’ll continue to work through it together.”

Jey took a deep breath, seemingly preparing himself. “Alright,” he said, bracing for whatever the therapist had in store. “So… go on with your questions.”

The therapist chuckled softly, trying to ease the tension. “Why don’t we start with something lighter? Why don’t you tell me how you met Rhea?”

Jey looked over at Rhea, a small smile appearing on his face as he thought back. He reached over and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before looking back at the therapist.

“Well… it’s actually kinda funny when I think about it,” he started, a hint of nostalgia coloring his tone.

Rhea chuckled softly beside him, nudging him as if to say, Don’t embarrass me, though her eyes were warm with the memories they shared.

“It was a couple of years ago. I saw her for the first time at an NXT motivational seminar. She’d just started making a name for herself down there. I remember being struck by her character—she was… different. Raw. Confident. She didn’t fit the mold, and that made her stand out to me right away.”

Rhea smiled, slightly embarrassed but also amused, recalling those early days.

“I couldn’t help myself,” Jey continued with a grin. “I pointed out her character design in front of everyone. I was not impressed with it, and I thought it was pretty damn bold of her to not say anything about it..."

The therapist nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“Then, she came up to the main roster, and I saw her again,” Jey went on. “She was with Adam and Damian… part of the original Judgment Day. She was this unstoppable force, and I respected that. I’d see her around every now and then, and yeah, I’d even cut a few flirty promos with her when we crossed paths.”

He paused, swallowing as he cleared his throat. There was a part of the story he wasn’t quite ready to unpack, a part he knew was crucial but too raw to bring to light in this moment. The memories of Rhea’s struggles with Matthew were painful ones—ones that had shaped both of them in ways they hadn’t anticipated. But for now, he chose to omit that part, not wanting to stir up those wounds just yet.

“There was a lot going on in my personal life back then,” Jey admitted, his voice softening. “I was… married. But things were tough. My wife and I were going through some stuff, and I don’t know… I just felt lost, like I didn’t know who I was anymore.”

He looked down, gathering his thoughts as he spoke. “One day, I saw her in catering. She’d taken all the brownies.” He chuckled at the memory, the tension easing just a bit. “She offered to share some with me, and we got to talking. One thing led to another, and I invited her to my room. We drank a little… and, well… things happened.”

The therapist looked at him thoughtfully, then asked, “So, you’re saying that you had an affair?”

Jey felt a pang of guilt, a feeling he still hadn’t fully processed even after all this time. He glanced at Rhea, her gaze steady and understanding. She knew the story—they both did. But hearing it aloud, in this setting, added a new layer of reality to it.

“Yeah,” he admitted quietly. “I had an affair. I was struggling… lost in my own mess. But that doesn’t make it okay. I hurt people in the process. And I know that.”

Rhea shifted beside him, her hand still in his, a quiet strength in her presence. She didn’t need to say anything; just being there was enough. Her forgiveness and their shared understanding were a testament to how far they’d come.

The therapist looked at Rhea with an understanding gaze and gently prompted, “Rhea, can you share with us how you felt in the beginning?”

Rhea hesitated, her fingers twisting in her lap as she carefully chose her words. “At first,” she started softly, “being with Jey… it felt like an escape. Like, every time I snuck into his room in the early hours of the morning, it was like I was running away from everything, from… Matthew.” She swallowed hard, glancing briefly at Jey before looking down again. “With Jey, I felt free. It felt like I was supposed to be with him in the first place.”

The therapist nodded thoughtfully. “And Matthew?” they asked gently. “Why did you continue to be with him?”

Rhea took a deep breath, clearly uncomfortable with the question, especially with Jey sitting beside her. But she spoke up anyway, her voice a mix of honesty and vulnerability. “Look, at first… I thought me and Jey were just… getting our fix, you know? Like, at the end of the day, I’d go back to Matthew, and he’d go back to… Takecia.” Her voice wavered as she mentioned Jey’s ex-wife, a reminder of the complicated and messy situation they had both been entangled in.

She clenched her jaw, her hand instinctively rubbing at her throat as if trying to loosen a knot that had lodged itself there. “I… I felt guilty,” she admitted, almost in a whisper. “I thought Matthew hadn’t done anything wrong. I thought I was the one messing up. But… he wasn’t who I thought he was. There were… signs. Signs I ignored. But that relationship was nothing like mine and Demetri’s.”

Jey looked at her, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. This was the first time she’d spoken openly about Matthew’s control over her, but what really caught his attention was her mention of someone named Demetri. In all the time they had been together, she had never once brought up that name.

The therapist noticed Jey’s curiosity and turned back to Rhea. “What was different about Demetri compared to Matthew?” they asked, keeping their voice steady and reassuring.

Rhea stiffened, her gaze hardening as she shook her head. “I… I don’t want to talk about it,” she said firmly, her voice laced with a mix of fear and defiance.

The therapist gave her a gentle nod. “That’s okay. You’re not obligated to talk about anything you’re not ready to share. This is a safe space, and we’ll move at your pace.”

But Jey, feeling the tension and the weight of the secrets still left unsaid, leaned forward, his frustration evident. He squeezed her hand, “Look, if I’m willing to talk about Takecia,” he said, his voice strained but measured, “then maybe… maybe you could talk about Demetri, too. I think we’re supposed to be honest with each other here.”

Rhea’s jaw clenched, she had removed her hand from him and her fingers curling tightly into fists in her lap. She finally looked at Jey, her eyes blazing with warning. “If you keep pushing it,” she said through gritted teeth, “I am going to call Trinity and have her take me home. I’m serious, Jey.”

The silence that followed was thick, the tension between them growing more intense. The therapist watched the exchange, their expression calm but alert, sensing that they were at a crossroads in the session.

The therapist, sensing her agitation, leaned in with genuine concern. “Rhea, I know this is difficult, but understanding your past is essential for your future. Can you share with us what Demetri represented for you?”

Jey chimed in, “Rhea, please. I’m not trying to push you. I just want to be there for you. I want to understand everything about you.”

The pressure in the room intensified, and Rhea felt her chest tighten. “I don’t want to talk about Demetri!” she snapped, her voice rising. “I’m done with this. You’re pushing me too far!”

The therapist maintained a calm demeanor. “Rhea, I understand it’s uncomfortable, but this is a safe space. If you want to work through these feelings, it’s important to confront them.”

Rhea stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “Take me home now!” she shouted, her voice filled with desperation. She felt a surge of anger and hurt, a mix of emotions that boiled over. Without waiting for a response, she turned and stormed out of the office, leaving the therapist and Jey stunned.

Jey’s heart raced as he immediately followed her, his voice echoing in the hallway. “Rhea! Wait up!” he called out, trying to keep pace with her hurried steps. He could see her determined stride, the tension radiating off her in waves.

Rhea spun around, her eyes blazing with emotion. “No, Jey! I don’t want to talk! I want to go home!” she demanded, her tone leaving no room for discussion.

Jey stepped closer, concern etching his features. “But Rhea, can we at least discuss what just happened? I don’t want you to feel like you have to shut me out,” he pleaded, his voice softening.

“Then take me home!” she snapped back, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I can’t do this right now!”

“Okay, okay,” Jey relented, his heart sinking at the sight of her distress. “Let’s just go. I’m here for you, no matter what.” He reached for her hand, hoping to offer some comfort, but she pulled away, her walls firmly back in place.

They walked out together, the silence heavy between them as they approached the car. Jey opened the door for her, and she climbed in without a word. He slid in beside her, the atmosphere thick with unspoken thoughts and unresolved feelings.

As the car pulled away from the therapist’s office, Jey glanced at Rhea, his heart aching for her. He wanted to help, to understand, but he knew that right now, all he could do was be there for her as they drove home in silence.

As Rhea and Jey approached the house, the weight of their recent argument loomed heavily over them. Rhea was the first one out of the car, her heart racing with a mixture of anger and sadness. She stormed toward the front door, refusing to look back at Jey, who sighed deeply, rubbing his temples in frustration.

Once inside, Rhea made a beeline for the bedroom. She closed the door behind her with a definitive click, locking it as if that small action could shut out all the hurt and confusion swirling in her mind.

Jey entered the house a moment later, the silence palpable as he walked to the bedroom door. He tried the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. “Demi,” he called, his voice laced with concern. “ I am going to take off the lock on the door if you keep doing this, please open the door.”

She opened it just a crack, enough to throw a pillow and a blanket at him before slamming it shut again. “Joshua, sleep on the couch!” she shouted, using his full name to emphasize her irritation.

“It’s only 11:57 in the morning, babe!” he protested, desperation creeping into his voice.

“BLOW IT OUT OF YOUR ASS!” she yelled back, the frustration in her tone sharp enough to cut through the air.

Jey leaned his forehead against the door, feeling the cool wood against his skin as he sighed in defeat. “Demi, please,” he pleaded softly, wishing she would let him in. “We need to talk about this. I can’t help you if you won’t let me.”

But inside the room, Rhea wrapped her arms around her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was overwhelmed by a mix of emotions: anger at Jey for pushing her, guilt for how she felt, and sadness for the distance that seemed to grow between them.

“Just give me a little space,” she whispered to herself, the weight of her words echoing in the silence of the room. She buried her face in her knees, letting the tears flow freely, feeling as though the walls she built around herself were the only thing protecting her from the chaos of her emotions.

Jey stood there, his heart breaking as he listened to her muffled sobs from the other side of the door. He wanted to reach out, to comfort her, to tell her that he was there for her no matter what. But every time he tried to speak, the words caught in his throat, leaving him feeling helpless and frustrated.

“I’ll be right here,” he said finally, his voice low and filled with concern. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m not going anywhere.”

But Rhea remained silent, lost in her thoughts, needing time to process the turmoil inside her. No matter how much Jey pleaded, she couldn’t find the strength to open the door, not when she felt so broken.

As minutes ticked by, Jey settled onto the couch, staring at the wall as he wrestled with his own feelings of helplessness. He knew they needed to communicate, but the more he thought about it, the more he feared that the space Rhea had created was just the beginning of a deeper rift. He closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing heart and remind himself that they would find a way through this—together.

As Jey sat on the couch, a thought suddenly sparked in his mind. He needed help, and there was only one person he could think of who might provide insight into Rhea’s past—a blonde demon named Liv. He headed outside, pulling out his phone and dialing her number. After a few rings, she picked up, her voice energetic and lively.

“Hey! Just finished a killer workout! How’s Rhea doing?” Liv asked, her tone bright and full of enthusiasm.

Jey sighed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. “The couples therapy is going not so good.”

“Oooohhh yeah, she told me about that,” Liv replied. “Did you flip out again?”

“No,” Jey said, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “She did this time.”

He went on to explain the heated session, how Rhea had clammed up and refused to talk about her past. “Do you know anything about Demetri?” he asked, referencing the name that had hung in the air during their therapy session.

Liv’s tone shifted slightly, taking on a more serious note. “Honestly, I think Rhea is going to fly over here and give me her signature headbutt for telling you this, but knowing her, she might also thank me for helping you understand.”

“Please, Liv,” Jey pleaded. “I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

Liv took a deep breath, clearly weighing her words. “Demetri used to correct Rhea a lot,” she said carefully.

“What do you mean, ‘correct’?” Jey asked, his heart racing as he braced for the answer.

Liv’s voice dropped lower, her words heavy with emotion. “He used to hit her. Beat the fuck out of her, Jey. It was horrible. Tegan was always covering her bruises.”

Jey felt his stomach drop. “What the fuck? Why didn’t anyone do anything?” His voice trembled with anger and disbelief.

“Rhea denied it,” Liv explained. “She would always say Tegan or I or any of the other Divas would hit her by accident. She didn’t want anyone to know.”

Jey’s fists clenched at his sides. “So what happened? How did she end up with Matt, and what happened with Demetri?”

“That’s the thing, no one really knows,” Liv said softly. “You would have to ask Rhea.”

Jey ran a hand through his hair, frustration and concern swirling within him. “I need to understand her, Liv. If we’re going to make this work, I can’t be in the dark about her past.”

“I get it,” Liv replied. “But you have to be patient with her. It took me a long time to break through her walls, and sometimes, she still struggles with what happened. Just be there for her, Jey. That’s what she needs right now.”

“Yeah, I just wish I could get through to her,” he admitted, feeling the weight of responsibility press down on him. “Thanks, Liv. I really appreciate you telling me this.”

“Anytime. Just remember, you’re not alone in this. We all care about Rhea,” she said before hanging up.

Jey stood outside, looking up at the sky as he tried to process everything Liv had shared. He felt a mix of anger at Demetri for hurting Rhea, and a deep sense of empathy for the struggles she had faced alone. Taking a deep breath, he made his way back inside, determined to give Rhea the support she needed while also preparing himself to confront the past she was so desperately trying to hide. He knew the road ahead would be challenging, but he was ready to fight for their future, one step at a time.

—

Present Time. April 18th, 2025 - 10:02 PM

Trinity screamed, her voice piercing the air as another contraction hit her with relentless intensity. “Fuck It hurts so bad!” she cried, gripping Jon and Rhea’s hands with an iron-like grip. Jon winced but held firm, his heart racing as he watched his wife endure the pain of labor.

“Focus on your breathing, Trinity! You can do this!” Rhea urged, her voice steady despite the panic swirling in her mind. She glanced at Jey, who was standing by, nervously wiping sweat from Trinity’s forehead as if he could absorb her pain.

“Why did you get me pregnant, Jon?” Trinity yelled, shooting daggers at her husband. “This is all your fault!”

“I know, I know! Just breathe!” Jon replied, trying to keep his own panic at bay. “We’ll get through this together.”

As another contraction gripped Trinity, she let out a fierce curse, directing her frustration at Jon again. “You better be ready to catch these babies, because I’m going to kill you after this!”

“Hey, hey, let’s keep the focus here, alright? Just keep breathing,” Rhea said, encouragingly rubbing Trinity’s arm.

Just then, the doctor and a nurse burst into the room, bringing an air of professionalism amidst the chaos. “Alright, who’s ready to push?” the doctor asked with a warm smile, glancing at Trinity.

“AHHHHH!” Trinity screamed as that contraction hit her like a set of bricks, her determination breaking through the pain.

“Great! Trinity, I need you to listen carefully,” the doctor instructed. “When the next contraction hits, I want you to push as hard as you can, okay?”

Jon moved to Trinity’s side, holding her hand tightly. “You got this, babe. I’m right here,” he reassured her.

“Just think about how adorable they’ll be!” Rhea added, trying to keep the mood light despite the tension in the room.

“Okay, here we go!” the doctor announced, preparing for the birth. “Trinity, take a deep breath. Ready? And… push!”

Trinity screamed again, her face contorted in concentration as she bore down. Jey stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and terror. As the first baby’s head began to crown, he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him.

“Come on, Trinity! You’re almost there!” Jon encouraged, his heart racing.

“I can’t! I can’t do it!” Trinity cried, her voice laced with desperation.

“Yes, you can! You’re stronger than this!” Rhea insisted, squeezing Trinity’s hand.

With one final push, Trinity unleashed a primal scream, and the doctor exclaimed, “I can see the head! Keep pushing!”

Jey’s eyes were glued to the sight before him, and as he watched the baby’s head emerge, the reality of the situation hit him hard. “Oh God… I think I’m going to—”

Before he could finish, Jey’s vision blurred, and he staggered backward, fainting at the sight. He crumpled to the floor, barely avoiding a collision with the equipment beside him.

“Jey!” Rhea shouted, her focus momentarily pulled from Trinity.

“My brother in law.. what? Is he okay?” Trinity asked out of breath.

The nurse rushed to Jey’s side, checking on him as the doctor turned back to Trinity. “Focus on your breathing, Trinity. We need to keep going!”

With the room now buzzing with activity, Trinity felt a surge of adrenaline. “It hurts so bad!!!”

“Alright, Trinity, one more big push!” the doctor commanded, and Trinity summoned every ounce of strength she had left.

“Push!” the doctor shouted as Trinity let out another ferocious scream, her body straining with the effort.

Moments later, the room filled with the sound of a baby’s first cry. “Congratulations! You have a son!” the doctor announced, holding the tiny infant aloft.

Trinity’s eyes widened with joy and relief as the baby was placed on her chest. “I did it! I really did it!” she gasped, tears of joy spilling down her cheeks.

The nurse quickly attended to the second twin, who was still on their way out. “Alright, we need to do this again, Trinity. One more push!”

Trinity nodded, her determination renewed. “Let’s get this over with!” she exclaimed, ready to meet her second child.

As she pushed again, Jon leaned in close, whispering words of encouragement. “You’re amazing, babe! Just one more!”

With a final, powerful push, the second baby emerged, filling the room with another wail. “Congratulations! You have another son!” the doctor exclaimed, placing the second twin beside his brother.

Overwhelmed by emotion, Trinity gazed down at her two boys, her heart bursting with love. “I can’t believe it… they’re beautiful,” she whispered, cradling her sons.

In the chaos of the moment, Rhea turned to check on Jey, who was slowly regaining consciousness. “Hey, you alright?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.

“I think I’m gonna need a minute,” Jey mumbled, groaning as he sat up.

As Trinity held her twins close, the atmosphere in the room transformed. The pain and chaos had given way to joy and love, and in that moment, surrounded by family, Trinity felt complete. She had faced her fears, battled through the pain, and emerged victorious—now a proud mother of two.

As Jey finally regained his bearings, he pushed himself up from the floor, rubbing his temples. The sound of soft coos and gentle laughter drew him back to the delivery room. As he stepped inside, he was struck by an overwhelming sight: Jon taking one twin in his arms while Trinity held the other twin, their faces illuminated with pure joy.

“Wow…” Jey breathed, feeling a wave of emotion wash over him. The image of his brother, usually so strong and composed, now tenderly gazing at his newborn sons filled Jey’s heart with pride. He could see the love radiating between Jon and Trinity as they shared this moment together, a family formed through their struggle and determination.

“Hey Uce’!” Jon called, grinning as he looked up at Jey. “Come meet your nephews!”

Jey stepped closer, his heart swelling at the sight of the tiny bundles. “They’re perfect,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You guys did an amazing job.”

As Jon and Trinity shared tender glances over the twins, Jey felt a pang of bittersweet happiness. It was a reminder of everything they had all been through together and how far they had come.

After a moment of quiet admiration, Rhea nudged Jey gently. “Let’s give them some space,” she suggested, sensing the intimate moment unfolding. Jey nodded, not wanting to intrude on their first family moments.

As they walked out of the room, Jey chuckled nervously. “I can’t believe I fainted in there. I’ve seen some wild things in the ring, but that… that was something else.”

Rhea smirked, glancing back at the room filled with life and love. “You fainting like that? Classic,” she teased, then turned serious, her gaze meeting his. “But seriously, don’t faint when I have our boy.”

Jey raised an eyebrow, a smile creeping across his face despite his embarrassment. “Oh, I won’t! I promise I’ll be right there with you—wide awake and ready to catch our kid.”

“Good,” Rhea replied, her tone lightening again. “I can’t have you passing out during our moment.”

As they stood in the hallway, Rhea felt a flutter of excitement for the future. Jey’s commitment reassured her that they would navigate this journey together, just as Trinity and Jon were starting their new chapter as parents.

“Ready for the next adventure?” Rhea asked, nudging Jey playfully.

Jey grinned, pulling her close. “With you? Always.”

With a shared smile, they both knew they were just getting started on their journey together, and the promise of their future family awaited them.

[igneouswyvern]

I wouldn't normally be making a post like this but I'm having major withdrawals after having completed Nier Automata and I need to process it somehow so here I am

MAJOR spoilers for all three chapters of Nier Automata under the cut, seriously if you have any slight intention of playing the game do not read

Some of the game's major themes are loss and hopelessness, but the thing I find most interesting is the game's emphasis on partnership, usually just with two people but it occasionally features more than that.

The first time we see this partnership in action is with Adam and Eve right in the very first chapter. And it makes sense. Their namesakes are literally from the story involving the Christian god creating Eve for Adam, the two becoming "one flesh," and essentially being linked up for life. And in the game it is no different. Adam imparts his knowledge onto Eve, and he also "plays with" him. They're shown as two sides of the same coin from the second time you fight them. They're linked. They're inseparable. Imagine what were to happen if something did cause them to be separated? Well, when 2B kills Adam, Eve flies into a blind rage. He can't think. He can't see straight. All he can think to do is to destroy the entire world. And realistically, from his perspective, it makes sense. Adam was his world. Adam was the reason he went on, the driving force to keep him going. Without Adam, who was he? What would he do with himself? His only options were to kill himself, or to kill everyone else. Revenge is a reason to keep going. So he chose revenge.

And at first this seems absurd and childish, but we see this immediately mirrored in the third chapter with 2B and 9S. 2B's death unfortunately comes right after 9S learns that the humans are extinct and everything he's been fighting for is a lie. But it's okay, because as long as he's fighting side-by-side with 2B everything will be okay, won't it? And then he witnesses 2B die, and his entire world is shattered. His response is understandable, really. He has nothing left to live for. He could kill himself, or he could kill everyone else. Revenge gave him a reason to keep going. So he made his goal to destroy every last machine that did this to 2B, and then kill A2, the android who ultimately dealt the final blow to her. It doesn't matter what her reasons were. It only matters that she's dead. And what will 9S do once he accomplishes this goal? Who knows. He certainly doesn't care. And then, at the very end of the final chapter, A2 reveals the truth to 9S. She reveals that 9S was always destined to learn the secret about YoRHa. And she reveals that the only reason he was paired up with 2B was because 2B was destined to kill him once he got too close to the information. They weren't joined by some red string of fate wishing them good fortune. But they weren't joined by accident either. They were joined so that one could kill the other. They were doomed from the start. How foolish of 9S to get so attached.

We don't learn much about A2 in the game proper (unless I missed side lore, which is entirely possible). But it's pretty clear from the hints we picked up that she too had a friend in YoRHa who died. This is presumably why she left YoRHa--why keep fighting for them anyway? Her friend is dead and there's nothing left. A2 too chooses the path of revenge, but somewhere along the way she keeps her sanity, separating her from Eve and 9S. Yet her ways are seemingly aimless. The best explanation she can provide for her intentions to 042 is to kill every last machine lifeform, yet she doesn't really have a plan for accomplishing this at all. Throughout her quest, she wanders aimlessly, going to the desert because of a goliath signal 042 detected, then going to the Resistance Camp because she damaged her fuel part, then going to Pascal's village for the part, and finally wandering into the tower because 042 told her it had been opened. What is she really living for anyway? I doubt she can really say for sure herself.

Speaking of the Pods, these two are also connected. They begin connected by 2B and 9S's connection, but once 2B dies, they shouldn't have any reason to be connected anymore. And yet they still are, sharing data routinely and coming to conclusions. And thus, they continue to be bound, this time by 9S and A2, although it is imperative that they do not come into contact with one another in this instance, because A2 and 9S are highly hostile to one another. And through all the AI nonsense, Pods 042 and 153 do form a bond unrelated to their androids. It makes you wonder what might happen if one were to die.

The theme continues with Devola and Popola. Designed to be twin androids, their sisterly connection is unmatched. They would not be able to keep going without the other. They were ostracized, hated, and attacked, but it doesn't matter, because they had each other. In the end, they both die for the sake of letting 9S enter the tower. 153 points out that one could have survived, but they stayed together and both perished. 9S shuts her down, because he knows exactly why they wished to stay together. Perhaps he wishes he too had died with 2B.

Pascal is one of the few characters to not feature a pair. His duty is rather to the entire village. He imparts knowledge to the children and teaches them how to be peaceful, how to survive. He would risk everything to save even one member of the village. So imagine his despair when the battle is over and he finds that every last one of the children killed themselves out of fear, fear that he taught them. They were his reason to keep on living, and they're dead because of him. He immediately recognizes that he can't live with this reality. He asks A2 to either kill him or delete his memories, because he just can't go on.

While barely relevant to the plot at all, both 2B and 9S's operators show a desire to form a partnership. 2B's operator asks a fellow operator out, and is devastated when she is rejected. 9S's operator expresses a strong desire to start a family. Both missed out on this opportunity.

The commander doesn't come in a pair, but she too is linked up with other individuals. When all of YoRHa is going down, she rejects the chance to escape. What is the purpose of going on when everything you've ever worked for is crashing down around you? Without her soldiers at YoRHa, she has nothing left to live for. She goes down with the ship.

The theme goes even deeper when you look at the side quests. Rescuing the machine's younger sister. Protecting the mother machine's son. Helping a resistance member recover her memories about a deceased loved one. Confirming another resistance member's loved one is dead. Following the wandering couple and helping them survive together. The android who repaired a fallen YoRHa member and pretended he was his own son, because he needed to take care of another person to have a reason to go on. The pair of YoRHa betrayers, one becoming enraged when the other dies, and the captain coming to avenge them both.

The boss of the amusement park, doing anything she can to get the attention of the male machine lifeform, desperate to form a partnership, destroying herself to please him.

The machines in the forest rallying themselves to protect, and then to get revenge for, their king.

Perhaps what really makes both androids and machines human is their need for connection. They can't go on without connection. They will do anything they can to find one other person that they can rely and codepend on. One person that they can protect at all costs. One person they can focus on to strive to keep going. If they have that, they can do anything. But take that away...and what's left is despair and hopelessness. The world can be bleak and desolate and utterly hopeless, but as long as you've got your Person, there's always a reason to keep going. But on the other hand, the world can be beautiful and full of life, but if you don't have a Person, you don't have anything.

This game deals with a lot of themes, but I think the social aspect of the characters in the story is what hit me the hardest.

This got...long...if a single human being has read this, thanks for coming to my TED talk I guess

[popart-vvv]

Arcana Analysis--Hazbin Hotel: Cherri Bomb (The Chariot)

Okay, I've been thinking "since the Hellverse has more characters, why don't I try to relate the rest of the major arcana deck to its set of characters?" And it wasn't easy, but I've managed to work something out. Here's a left-field pick, in the meantime.

This is Cherri Bomb, a gangster and Angel Dust/Anthony's best friend, the one bright spot in his life before the hotel. She also serves as his foil later on in the first season, in that her hedonism and indulgence in vices is genuine, unlike Anthony's use of them as a coping mechanism.

Choosing her card was a pretty difficult pick for me, but in the end, I chose The Chariot. A card of action, victory, and assertion, this card represents just how different Cherri is from Anthony when it comes to the seeking of thrills and pleasures.

The first thing about her is that, unlike Anthony, Cherri Bomb is not owned by anyone, which does wonders for her well-being. As such, she chose to live a life of sin and vice, mostly displayed in her being a rough-and-tough, bomb-throwing punk. Her appearance in the pilot shows her battling with Sir Pentious, back when he was still an Overlord-wannabe, and easily overtaking him.

The interesting thing here is that Cherri Bomb's personal arc subverts some aspects of The Chariot Reversed; namely, self-reflection and a directionless path. Her friendship with Anthony comes up again in the season 1 episode "Welcome to Heaven", coming after "Masquerade" which kick-started his character development. Cherri had been out of the picture up to that point, so she wasn't aware of Anthony's genuine desire to change. She comes to the hotel early on to take Anthony out for some fun in town, and Charlie pays her to bring everyone else currently at the hotel along as well. When they arrive at a nightclub, she is rather surprised by Anthony's growing sense of responsibility, particularly where Niffty the eccentric maid is concerned. Keep in mind, though: Cherri's not malicious about her intentions. For her, the best way to wind down after a rough day is to indulge in vices, and she doesn't understand that it's not working for Anthony the way it's working for Cherri. She comes to understand how serious Anthony is about bettering himself when he stands up to his abusive boss for Niffty's sake, but turns him down when he invites her over to the hotel. "I'm doin' just fine!", she says with confidence.

So Cherri Bomb's thrill-seeking ways aren't depicted negatively--she's happy with the way things are for her, and she genuinely enjoys her own life of vice. Compare to Anthony, who drowns in vice as Angel Dust without enjoying any, if not most, of it. She doesn't display apathy towards Charlie's goals of redemption, she acknowledges it. She's just so content with her life that she doesn't see any need for improvement in it. The Chariot comes in play here: For her, every day contains a little bit of victory.

Now comes a prediction for where Cherri's arc goes from here: In the season finale, she surprisingly hooked up with Sir Pentious after he confessed to having a crush on her, and they shared a kiss, and then he died by Adam and ascended to Heaven. It was confirmed that season 2 will feature him and his activity up in Heaven, so it's easy to assume that Cherri will get quite a bit of focus as well, considering the kiss shared between them. Maybe she begins to rethink her path in life and changes her goal to see him in Heaven. Maybe she'll start aiming for a greater victory. It's possible.

[darlingletshurttonight]

The Piano

(okay yall i wrote something. this takes place after gaon finds out yohan is alive the second time. i had written this for myself but if this helps anybody get their daily dose of gahan, here it goes. its not proofread or anything so bear with me :’])

Gaon walked out of the mansion, feeling empty. Of course, he was happy that Yohan was alive, and he was with Elijah. He was relieved that he was able to keep his promise to Elijah. It was such a relief that they were together again.

Only, without him.

Yes, he had fucked up. Yes, he almost messed up the bleak relationship Yohan and Elijah had. It never struck him how easily he blended in with them. Okay, it did strike him, but he chose to ignore that it might not have been permanent. It probably never would be. He just... wished he could go back.

As he walked his usual path home, he noticed another sapling, growing in dire conditions on the side of the road. The leaves were yellowing, roots sticking out from the mud.

"Are you alone too?" he murmured, picking up the broken pot.

He held it close as he walked down the stairs, wondering when was the last time he felt so lost. Alone.

Maybe this was a good thing? Even if the thought of having nobody made him shiver in anxiety and pain. He couldn't even process how he lost so many people so quickly. He regretted some things, he appreciated some things. By the time he reached his front door, his sleeves were stained with the mud, and mind still hazy from everything that had happened. He was hoping the walk would clear his mind. But this wasn't something a walk would fix. He soon realized, this wasn't something that diving deep into work and losing the little sanity he had left would fix. He skipped meals, came home late and didn't talk to many people. His only company was his mind, which wasn't really helping.

He was sitting on the bench on his terrace with his dinner that consisted of a single coffee. He knew that he was getting a fresh start, he had to start living for himself now, there was no other way. He wondered how Elijah's rehabilitation was going, was she able to feel her legs? Was she able to stand, walk around? What was their relationship like now?

He felt a turmoil every time he even vaguely thought of Yohan. His emotions would fly through a spectrum. The more days went by, the more he got time and clarity to think, and the more his anger and acceptance clashed.

Was he not enough?

He was never a part of them, he was just visiting.

Did he not repent for his mistakes enough?

They needed time away to heal.

Did Yohan lose all the trust he had in him?

Elijah's treatment was a priority.

Had Yohan finally pushed him away?

He must have needed space from the person who didn't choose him many times.

Had Gaon, read it all wrong?

There was only so much he could do to convince himself that there was once a beautiful phase in his life - short, surrounded by pain and betrayal - but beautiful nonetheless. He now had to build meaningful relationships with people from the ground up, and people were exhausting. He was tired of losing.

Why was he the one always losing his people? As he watered his plants, he noticed the newest one not doing so well. He put in some fertilizer, adding some rocks at the bottom and placing it in a different location.

Maybe this is what he needed. Some reorganizing.

Gaon had known how to play the piano. His father's piano was still in the house, by the corner. He had learnt a few things from him. He wasn't the best, but Gaon liked learning it exactly the way his father played it. After their death, he never looked at it. He had managed to sideline its existence, simply because no one could play it the way he was used to.

It seemed old now, worn out. Gaon had cleaned it once in a while, just as any other furniture in the house. Not a single key had been played since the last few years, this was the first time Gaon was properly looking at it. He sat on the seat, immediately regretting it. He felt the keys softly, trying to gain some familiarity.

Nothing.

He pressed a key, another one, and another one. His pace got quicker and the sound messier as he desperately tried to make sense of the unfamiliarity,

He stood up in frustration, and gave up on the attempt. As he lay curled up in bed, the weight of not just the loneliness but the strength he didn't have to continue weighed on him. His tears fell, and he was at the rock bottom again.

He came home the next day, and stared at the piano from the kitchen table. Why he was so adamant on playing it, he didn't quite understand. He rummaged through some old boxes in his house, and found a music notebook, with some loose sheets inside. Placing them on the sill, he tried to read and play. He didn't care if he was playing it right, he just wanted to play. He wanted to feel something. He wanted to feel the comfort of sitting next to his father who played a love song for his wife, every time she came home from work. He wanted to feel that belonging.

He played after work everyday. He missed a lot of notes, he had to look up tutorials to understand things he had forgotten. He wasn't acing this, but it kept him going.

He chose to ignore the images of Yohan that crept in his mind as he played the piano. And then one day it didn't hurt so much to think about Yohan as he played. And the next day he deliberately thought of Yohan, not that he had to put in much effort for that. He imagined playing the piano for Yohan. He might never have Yohan again, but this was for him. For letting him choose his own paths, for giving him a family and that feeling of belonging, for allowing Gaon to see him vulnerable, for trusting Gaon. And, for accepting the way Gaon was.

Gaon was planning to reorganize his house after the day of the reform meeting. He'd have some time on his hands to give it some thought. A few days ago he had bought groceries and made himself proper dinner. A few days before that he had cleaned up the mess that his house had become.

Before he left for the meeting, he noticed the leaves of his new plant turning a rich shade of green. He smiled on the way to work.

But the smile disappeared when Jin Joo mentioned she was leaving. He realized he could've spent some more time for her. But he wasn't going to regret it. enough of that. He promised to visit and keep in touch. He knew that she wouldn't expect him to, but he was still going to try.

What he did not prepare for, was to see Yohan again. He had given up. And here Yohan was, standing in front of him. His unkempt hair, informal clothes, the vulnerability in his eyes, and the hopeful smile. Was this another chance? There was so much Gaon wanted to say. There was so much Gaon wanted to make sure Yohan knew. His heart raced as he tried to conjure up some words, something, anything.

But he realized he didn't have to say anything, Yohan knew. Of course Yohan knew. He knew him better than anyone.

He stood frozen, a smile and tears plastered to his face, as he watched Yohan walk away. Now he knew, they were finally on the same page. Gaon would chase Yohan to the ends of the world, if Yohan allowed him. But Yohan was always by his side, right from the beginning. He loved Yohan, and it was only a matter of time before he would bring up the courage to tell him so.

He visited the mansion as soon as he could escape from the office. He saw the lights on for the first time in a month. He'd never understand how he had conflicting emotions, yet a sense of comfort everytime he was here. He entered the house, on his way to Yohan's study, where he knew Yohan would be. The last time he did so, he was holding a knife. This time, it was his own heart in his hand.

He stopped in his tracks as he turned around the corner and watched Yohan leaning against the table, hands folded across his chest, as if waiting for him.

"I was waiting for you" he said. His eyes were unreadable but Gaon knew he didn't just mean about this meeting.

Gaon closed his eyes and let a tear fall. He'd never thought he'd hear this voice again. This was all real, after all. He really was here.

"What brings you back?" Gaon managed to ask, taking a few steps forward. He didn't even try to hold his tears back, whatever the answer was going to be, he was going to show Yohan his honest feelings. That's what he was here for. He wanted Yohan to see him.

He watched Yohan's face softening, relaxing his arms. Gaon wished he'd hold him.

"I came to check on you"

Gaon felt like the floor was swept off from under his feet. He was worth it after all.

"Thank you" he whispered, sniffing away his tears.

"How's Elijah? Is she here?" Gaon asked, after a pause.

"No, she's getting adjusted to the center there. She's okay, she misses you"

"And you?"

Gaon watched Yohan look for an answer. He hadn't prepared for this blunt question, and frankly, neither had Gaon. The longer the silence was, the more afraid Gaon felt to know the answer.

Yohan had a habit of communicating with his eyes. Gaon was pretty good at reading them, but today he just had to be sure. What he didn't know was that Yohan was remembering every waking memory of him missing Gaon in the last month. Elijah's first appointment, their first meal they had made themselves, every single meal they had, the milestones Elijah was reaching, just...everything. How was he supposed to say this?

When Gaon got impatient, he decided to simply confess.

"I've missed you," he let out a breath he was holding all this while "a lot. I was losing my mind"

"Gaon-ah"

"I really thought I had lost you two forever," he paused to get a reaction, anything, from Yohan. He realized Yohan wouldn't have anything to say unless Gaon laid himself bare for him. So be it.

"I didn't even think you were real today, at the office. I was really really happy that you got out of all that alive, only that, you left. I wished you'd have told me. I was angry at first"

Yohan furrowed his eyebrows.

Gaon continued, "But I know Elijah's treatment was important, and you needed some peace, after... after all that. I'm sorry for everything I caused. Honestly, you gave me a second home and I, I just can't imagine...I cant imagine a world without you"

He averted his gaze and said one last thing, "If you want me to leave, please say so. I'll -"

"I've missed you, Gaon-ah"

Gaon dared to look at Yohan.

"So much that it hurt"

Gaon swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. Yohan stepped forward.

"After everything we've been through, I could never leave you behind. I thought you knew me better than that"

They stood close, their faces inches apart. Gaon couldn't tell what the anger in Yohan's voice was for. But he was willing to take it. He would take anything.

He stepped forward and held Yohan's shoulders, gently pulling him into his arms. He buried his face in Yohan's neck, the cloth of the robe absorbing his tears. He felt Yohan's arms sliding up his back, grip slowly tightening.

Neither would let go for a long time.

Later that night, Yohan watched as Gaon moved about the kitchen at Gaon's home, preparing dinner. He sat on one of the chairs, arms folded, eyes moving wherever Gaon went.

Gaon felt his gaze and didn't hide his smile.

"I'm guessing you haven't been eating well" Yohan observed.

Gaon bit his lip. "Guilty"

Yohan shook his head and looked around the place. "You play the piano?"

Gaon looked over, his hands still working on the stove. His saving grace stood there in all its glory.

"My father used to play, mostly for my mom. I had learnt from him but didn't touch it for a long time. I got back to it a few weeks ago"

"I'd like to hear you play"

Gaon's eyes welled up but he focused on the cooking. He smiled back at Yohan, like it wasn't a big deal.

Gaon stared at Yohan as he ate. He ate like a child, and Gaon adored him. He rubbed some crumbs off Yohan's lips and fed him some more. Was this really happening? He didn't really care, he was just happy.

They sat on the piano seat together. Yohan stared at Gaon as the latter played. Although Gaon's face felt hot with Yohan's gaze in such proximity, he focused on the music. He wanted to play it right.

"This is something my father used to play for my mother. I used to watch them sit here and reminisce about their college days"

Gaon struggled to get more words out. He wanted to be explicit with Yohan. He wanted to be unabashed. He took Yohan's hand, the one that held the scar. As he traced a finger over it, Yohan laced their fingers together.

Gaon looked at Yohan, who had scooted closer than ever. He squeezed Gaon's hand, reassuring and soft.

"Let me love you" Gaon whispered, as if saying it any louder would break the delicate moment.

He closed his eyes and gently pressed his forehead against Yohan's.

"Please" he added.

"Are you sure?" Yohan asked, his voice heavy. Like he’d played this conversation multiple times in his head before, and had thought of all the responses he could come up with, with very few of them favorable.

Gaon swooped in, closing the short distance between them.

On the terrace, the new plant bloomed a flower bud.

[awsugawara]

bnha hcs with an artsy s/o [1/?]

i’m going to make this a mini series, so expect to see this AND haikyuu characters too :) i will also do the k-pop hcs too, so look forward to that !

note: your quirk will be the same all around, if implied you have one!

Quirk: AMBIENT ILLUSION - with a single touch of your hand or glance, you are able to make your opponent think that they’ve been taken to another “realm,” but in actuality their body movements mimic those in the illusion; it’s a quirk that can be used for good or for bad; your creativity isn’t limited, but the side effects are headaches, nausea, and sometimes insanity for a short period of time until your stamina runs out or unless someone knocks you out

Hero Name: Chiaroscuro or Chiasu [for short]- referring to the major contrast of light and dark in an image; in italian it is said to literally mean light-dark

enjoy :)

---

s. aizawa

> teacher x teacher scenario tyvm

> you were a popular teacher at U.A., teaching in some of the general studies classes as an art teacher

> students in class 1-C, D, and E would flaunt how cute/hot and talented their pro hero of an art teacher was

> midnight was gossiping about you with present mic and aizawa overheard

> he knows you have your own agency, so how you double that plus being a teacher was beyond him

> “oh midnight! i was actually looking for you :)”

> aizawa-seeing-a-cutie.exe has stopped working.

> for someone who is low energy and stoic for the most part, this was new

> got more acquainted with the other teachers, but you were really close with aizawa

> funny thing is,,,you and aizawa met up a lot after school and you eventually started dating

> the other pro heroes at the school only found out is when midnight had walked in on them kissing

> the students found out about the relationship when aizawa walked you to your next lecture class as he left class 1-A  with present mic

> aizawa glared at them and as soon as he left, your students pelted you with questions, until the teacher told them to quiet down

--- k. takami 

> keigo is like a SIMP for you

> he practically with go out of his way just to buy you new art stuff

> “babe...i don’t need anymore sketchbook paper...i have an office at the school and they supply my paper-”

> “you can never have enough, my dove”

> you work at U.A. as an art teacher and met keigo when you were walking home from the school

> you had a run in with a villain, who was on a mission to kidnap you and he swooped in to save you 

> your art was scattered all over and some destroyed and keigo caught a glimpse of them and noticed your U.A. badge

> “you’re a teach at U.A.?”

> keigo walks you home, if you chose to stay late to work on your art

> when you first started dating, he was wondering why you would stay so late, and you had to explain your quirk to him

> he wants to be your #1 source of ideas, but he gives you space when you’re truly at an artist roadblock

> when he took you flying for the first time, he vowed to take you every now and then because seeing how your eyes lit up at the city below made it worth while

--- t. shigaraki

> shiggy treats you like glass

> i see him as someone that really admires you and your quirk, let alone your ability to be able to create such fine pieces of art

> you were a lone wolf, who met dabi, who introduced you to the league

> when shigs laid his eyes on you for the first time, he was SMITTEN

> childishly rants to kurogiri when you and dabi are out patrolling

> “why do they always have to go with that burnt piece of shit”

> #getrekteddabi

> shiggy sucks at socializing and it doesn’t help that you always have a resting bitch face™

> you’re actually a softie and a sweetheart at heart, but you notice shiggs advances and are quite confused

> “uhm...hello, tomura-senpai,,,is there something i can help you with?”

> rip shiggy from the CUTENESS

> one day when you didn’t show up at the base and dabi did, shigaraki and kurogiri gave him a look

> “oh, if you’re looking for Chiasu, they’re at home sleeping...idiot stayed up painting again.”

> shiggy left after demanding dabi to reveal their location

> when he got there, he rang the doorbell and questioning why he came because this really isn’t something he does

> “hmm? tomura-senpai? what are you doing here?” **rubs sleep out of your eyes**

> he felt his heart leap

> “i came to see my s/o after being told that they stayed up working. now, are you going to let me in or am i going to have to force myself inside your house?”

--- dabi

>  you were at witz end with your life as a pro hero 

> you weren’t depressed or anything,,,just bored,,,no ideas or fighting spirit

>one day, you had happened to run into dabi committing one of his oversized fires

> he tried reading you, but all he got was just your stoic, almost sad, expression

> you hadn’t moved and he was walking toward you, stopping and moving his face down to your level

> “well, well what do we have here?”

> you hadn’t remembered much from that day, but you hadn’t run into dabi and the only time you really left your house was to get more art supplies and food

> when you were trekking home on the same path, dabi stepped from the shadows in front of you

> you just gave him a blank look and tried to side step him, but obv he didn’t let you

> what happened next was probably the most shocking,,,he embraced you

> you didn’t know what to do other than cry...for losing your fighting spirit

> after that day, dabi would check up on you frequently and eventually he convinced you to stay with him, so he can stay with you

> it took about 2 months to get you to smile and boy was that worth it

> you were grateful of dabi for sparking [pun not intended] your creativity

> “if you’re so grateful, why don’t be mine?”

--- h. toga

> innocent is how toga would describe you

> her attraction to you was much more different than the times where she’d feel the need to cut someone up

> she wanted you in one piece, unharmed

> so she dragged you to be apart of the league of villains with her

> shigaraki was skeptical letting in a quirkless civilian into the league, but he found your ability to design and draw potentially useful

> dabi likes to mess with you to rile up himi

> “you lay another burnt hand on my s/o, i WILL cut you”

> himi doesn’t like the fact you’re close with some of the LOV members, so she whisks you away to her room or somewhere that’s not the base

> if you go to school and you’re adamant in finishing, himi will kinda leave out the villainous aspects of her life so you can finish

> if you go to school and you really don’t care for it, she’ll try to convince you to become a full fledged member of the LOV rather than an associate

> the mission with the yakuza was probably super nerve-wrecking for you after you saw it on the news

> you were greeted with a toga at your door that evening and you just glomped her and expressed how concerned you were, knowing what her role in the mission was

> himi met you online and then began kinda figuring out when you went to your fav cafe and art store and what you like to buy and the such

> attentive, but psycho was how you described her at first, but just accepted that aspect of her 

---

k. chisaki

> for someone who looks like a plague daddy- doctor none of the members of the yakuza would have imagined him dating a cutie with a QUIRK 

> for starters, you kinda once over the media on the yakuza, more so concerned with your art

> so when you accidentally ran into kai one evening, you kinda just shrugged it off and continued to walk home

> he was so confused like didn’t you know who he was?????????

> nonetheless, he saw you again, while you were making your way home from the convenience store with your [fav. drink + snacks]

> “oh hey! i remember you!” **insert tense kai** “you’re that guy from the other day! how are you?” **cue confused kai**

> you didn’t really have much of a reaction when you FINALLY put two and two together on

> “you’re a part of that villainous yakuza, right?” **insert tense kai** “it’s okay i won’t tell, i like you too much to turn you in :)” **cue confused kai**

> he wasn’t sure whether to be more concerned about the fact you’re letting him, a villainous yakuza go, or the fact he is starting to develop feelings for you

> regardless, kai had “kidnapped” you more like you willingly agreed to stay with him, hidden away somewhere, where you were safer

> he allowed you to continue your artistry, but he made sure to stay away at least from that aspect of your life

> he wanted you to feel like you had those forms of freedom with the line of work that he was involved in because he loves you very much

> BONUS: you held a grudge on kai for keeping eri hidden away from you and for what he did to her and got a couple of hits on his ass, but you stayed with her and aizawa after kai was arrested

---

sorry some of these are short or kinda are,,,,idk bad? ^^; 

[svtkillua]

milk and tea > 2

rating: [pg-13 / angst] genre: soulmate au pairing: todoroki shouto x reader warnings: cursing, heartbreak, angst! word count: 9.5k

listen while you read here! join the discord!

1 - chap 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 [final]

The pendant hanging from your neck felt heavier the longer you wore it, like the days of the week that had ticked past added pounds to the object by the hour. You simultaneously adored it and loathed it, constantly catching yourself staring at it and fiddling your fingers around the chain. You loved that it reminded you of him, that the present special from Todoroki somehow made you feel like you yourself were special, like the gift was as close to a boyfriend like gesture you’d ever get. It made you feel adored, like the silver chain was a harsh contrast to the gold on your palm because it was a different reality, one that for a moment didn’t seem like a daydream. You hated it, however, when you stared too long and remembered that a few minutes after he slipped it on your neck he left to be with her. You loathed it for being a constant whisper reminding you that it was just a necklace, just a birthday present, not a declaration of love in the form of jewellery, but a kind gesture between friends. Because that was all you could be to Todoroki as hard as you tried to imagine otherwise. 

“Are you listening to me?” 

Your head lifted from its downward angle, eyes trailing from the wooden table top to the wide windows of the cafe, the sounds around you feeling too loud for the small space. People were tucked in at all the tables, several offices on the upper floors of the building leading to a packed cafe every lunch rush. You almost always came down to grab coffee and a bagel, used to the hoards of people that blended in with the beige and brown walls, familiar with the scent of roasting coffee beans and the hum of the espresso grinder. You shifted in your seat as you looked back over at your friend, setting down the sandwich you’d been picking at, brushing your hands together in a silent clap in an attempt to brush off the crumbs. 

“Sorry, Izuku.” Your head shook side to side as you eyed his pouting features, cracking a smile at the way he huffed out a breath of air, lips puckered like a child who hadn’t gotten their way. Midoriya was perhaps your closest friend next to Todoroki, someone who had never pitied you but rather tried to fill your life with brightness. It was no wonder his soulmate was so enamored with him, you couldn’t blame her, his personality was affectionately child like, so awake and full of life you almost envied him for his eternal positivity. “I sort of zoned out.” 

“It’s alright, I was kind of rambling to be honest.” He chuckled with a shrug, the sweater he had on bunching slightly around his neck, the fabric looking too thick for the warm spring temperature. He had on wide, round glasses, his hair a bit more curly than normal from the small amount of humidity in the air, fingers wrapped around a huge plastic cup full of peach tea. “How was your birthday? We missed you at the bar.” 

“Okay I guess.” The fidget you made in your seat was involuntary, fingers trailing over the line on your palm out of habit. The light was hitting it just enough to make it seem to glow, the gold glinting in your irises as you flickered a glance between it and Midoriya, shoulders bobbing in a shrug. “Todoroki came over for a bit, we had a pizza.” 

“That sounds like a boring birthday celebration.” 

“Well I didn’t exactly feel like throwing a wild party, Midoriya.” Your eyes rolled at him, fingers drumming into the table top as you glanced at someone who waved in passing. Part of you felt anxious, wondering where Todoroki was even though you knew he was more than likely working out. He tended to work during his lunch breaks most days, which was what got you in the habit of bringing him coffees and snacks on your way back to the office across the hall. 

“Are you okay?” His palm landed on top of your knuckles, the gesture innocent but filling you with a bit of warmth, the genuine flash of concern on his features almost comforting. “I mean, I know you’re probably upset but, you know.” 

“I don’t know.” You sighed, shrugging and glancing at his soulmark, the bright blue on the face of his hand in a swirly pattern, almost mimicking that of a flower. The color bloomed against his skin tone, like a spot of blue sky poking out from clouds on a summer day, Midoriya himself the ball of sun beaming through the air. “It’s not like there’s much I can do to change how things are, everything just feels wrong. It feels unfair, like something’s not making sense how it was supposed to. I don’t know how to be okay when I’m supposed to be happy alone. I don’t feel happy alone, I feel lonely.” 

He nodded slowly, hand retreating to instead pick at his sweater, cup lifting as his lips wrapped around the straw and he took a gulp, adam’s apple bobbing. His eyes danced around the room as he debated what to say, eyelids fluttering as he blinked when the sun hit him directly in the face. You could almost see his thoughts forming, could picture the words as his messy scrawl put them down in his head, the ink bleeding into his tongue as he set his cup down to speak them into existence. 

“Just because you don’t have a matching mark doesn’t mean you have to be alone.” He reasoned, nodding once towards you with a half hearted smile, his gaze flickering over the planes of your face while you tore your focus away. You knew what he was referring to, that several people without soulmates had ended up together, that people with circumstances like yours made their own destiny and chose their own path. It was illegal to not be with your soulmate but if you didn’t have one all bets were off, anyone else who was alone was up for your taking, but somehow that idea didn’t sound right in your head. 

Maybe it was because you’d gotten so hung up on Todoroki but you didn’t feel like you were meant for just anyone, didn’t feel like you could make a deep connection with someone even if you could sit and talk to them for hours. Most everyone you heard of who didn’t have a soulmate was content being alone, didn’t feel so desperate for affection as you were, didn’t long for someone to hold them and be beside them all their life. For everyone else like you, it sounded like they were indeed made to be alone and they liked it that way, but you loathed it. 

You constantly felt lonely, like the rest of the world had left you fend for yourself, like everyone else was paired off and had forgotten you were still there. It was hard to go outside and see people holding hands, getting close to the person that was meant for them. It stung to hear your friends had met their match, to go to their weddings and smile wide knowing that it would never get to be you standing there in white across from your soulmate. It made your chest burn to picture yourself marrying someone you weren’t made by the universe for, to look at the mark on your hand and know you’d never see it on another person for as long as you lived. It was cruel, like going out most days were torture to the beating muscle in your chest, like being happy was going to be one of the hardest challenges to achieve in your life. 

The only thing that made you feel that way was Todoroki, and anymore that happiness came laced with the longing that you’d grown for him in your gut. You’d fallen so in love with Todoroki that it was hard to see past that now, that picturing him was enough to make your pulse quicken and throat constrict. Now the mere idea of watching him marry someone else made your eyes burn, fingers itching to feel him when you pictured someone else touching his beautiful skin you’d grown so attached to. Knowing he was a few floors up in the gym made your lips pull into a faint smile, almost like you could feel him there, could sense the warmth that radiated from his body and imagine it baking your skin. 

Todoroki made you feel things others wouldn’t, and in a way perhaps that was why you’d found yourself growing so infatuated with him. That was always how they made soulmates seem in movies, like they would understand you in facets others couldn’t, that they would be the person that just clicked into place, like a missing puzzle piece you’d finally found. You couldn’t understand how you’d fallen so in love with someone who wasn’t meant for you, couldn’t grasp that even though you felt all the things you were supposed to feel for a soulmate, he wasn’t that person. Things had been hard before he met Momo, but afterwards it all felt worse, the love in your chest like a weight that made your feet drag and posture slouch. 

“I gotta get back upstairs.” Your head lifted as Midoriya stood, your body following suit as he pulled you into a quick hug, smiling faintly with a nod as he walked off right after. You remained in place for a beat, watching his figure with a sigh, jealous of him, jealous of how easy he tried to always find a bright side in his head. You envied how second nature it was for him to be positive, to find a light in a room full of dark. It’d never been that way for you, never so easy to become a spark that filled everyone with vibrancy, if anything, you’d become the one that always turned the lights off. 

After grabbing another coffee and pastry from the counter, your feet carried you up the flights of stairs towards the office, the steps resonating with loud smacks in the half empty staircase. They complimented the sound of your heart beat as it pounded in your ears, matching in rhythm the quicker you ascended them, the heavy door slamming behind you serving like a crescendo to the song being created behind your rib cage. This had slowly become your favorite part of the day, the short walk down the hall towards the double paned glass doors facing your own, admiring the way the sunlight sprouted through them and created hazy shapes on the carpeted floor. It looked so welcoming, like it was the perfect package just waiting for you to unwrap it, like the universe knew someday Todoroki would work there so they created an entry as warm as he was.  

You spotted him as soon as you walked inside the studio room, waving at the receptionist as you strolled past her and further into the space, fans running that created a quiet hum that mixed with the clicking of cameras. He was always tucked back into the corner office whenever he was taking a break, the one directly across from the main studio space, the room with the most windows that overlooked the streets below even if he insisted he didn’t like heights. He was hunched slightly over his desk, camera laying idly beside his laptop as he moved his finger over the keyboard, brows furrowed together and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. His hair was pushed back off his forehead though pieces fell forward, like he kept fussing with it, lips parted as he exhaled, the angle of his jaw accentuated by the light streaming into his space from outside. He was oblivious to your approach, completely deaf to the outside world as he poured himself into his paperwork.

And gosh was he stunning. 

“Todoroki?” 

His head lifted in a flash, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he blinked rapidly until he focused on you, the curve of his lips spreading until his cheeks bunched upwards, eyes slipping faintly into half moons. The pang of guilt you felt for interrupting him washed away as he took his glasses off and moved to stand while you waved him off, moving closer to set his coffee and lunch down beside his computer. He was staring at you now as incessantly as he’d been doing to his computer, the sound of his foot tapping into the hardwood floors beneath his chair faintly reaching your ear when he sank back into his chair. 

“You didn’t have to bring me lunch.” 

“I knew you wouldn’t eat if I didn’t.” Your shoulders rose and fell with a faint laugh falling from your lips as you used one hand to push your hair away from your face. You looked his way long enough to catch his gaze before tearing your own away, pretending you didn’t feel the way his focus was making your esophagus feel too tight, like your heart had made a new home there. “Someone’s become quite the workaholic lately, hm?” 

“I have not, I just have a lot to do and I’m too tired to continue exercising.” His fingers landed on top of yours as you took a step back to move towards the door, focus shifting back onto his features as he nodded once in your direction. You swallowed hard, trying to force down the rock forming in your throat as he slipped his fingers between your own long enough to give your hand a squeeze with your palms flushed together. It was almost sad how incredible a him barely holding your hand could make you feel, how the smallest amount of affection from Todoroki felt like he’d dropped to his knee and asked you to be his forever. “Thank you though. Stay for a few minutes and keep me company?” 

He hardly had to put up an argument even if you should have shaken your head no, fingers slipping from his grasp as you sunk into the chair across from him, the desk serving as a barrier to separate your bodies. His posture relaxed once you were seated, lips wrapping around the opening of his cup as he snapped his eyes shut and took a quick sip, adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he swallowed and dropped the cup back down. The shirt he had on was gray, like the color of a sky after a thunderstorm in the middle of the summer, the colour making him look more drained as he pushed his wheeled chair slightly back from the confines of his desk, dark jeans clinging to his legs. 

The simple smile that flashed over his features as the paper bag crinkled open between his fingers made your own cheeks tug upwards, nothing but a pastry and the spare half of your bagel shoved inside but it was enough to make him feel appreciated. He always looked grateful when you dropped him off a coffee or snack, always made a point of thanking you for days after, like you’d single handedly made the world spin for him. It was one of the million things you loved about him, how humble he was, how he considered every act of kindness he received as a gift, one he couldn’t wait to return the first chance he got. 

“So what are you working on that’s so interesting?” His head rose when you spoke, eyebrows furrowing together as his lips pursed, jaw moving while he chewed on the sandwich. It made you grin, his cheeks full like a hamsters as he shuffled forward and swiveled his laptop around for you to see. The screen illuminated an article of breaking news covering crimes in the neighborhood, images of black and white mugshots dotted around the paragraphs in order to send a scary effect across to the reader.

“New villains showing up everywhere we least expect.” Your gaze flickered over to him when he spoke, eyes following the way his tongue poked out from between his lips, licking a crumb away from the pink flesh. He nodded his head once towards the screen before you focused back on it, voice thick as he half yawned, arms stretching forward and straining against the fabric of his shirt. “They want to be mysterious, I guess, but they’re not too good at covering their tracks. Quite an easy job for all of us right now.” 

Your head bobbed in a nod as he trailed off his speaking, lifting the bagel back to his lips as you leaned back in your seat and turned slightly to look out one of the windows. You had to squint, the sun steaming in just high enough to cover your face in heat, burning your irises in comparison to the pale coloring of the room. It felt peaceful, your eyelids drooping shut and arms folding over your chest, heartbeat at a steady rhythm while you listened to Todoroki’s quiet humming as he ate. For a moment you let yourself pretend you were at home, that the pair of you was married and this was any regular work day evening, content just spending your time together not speaking, because the love you felt in your chest said enough. 

It was so easy to fall into with him, the lull of security he provided simply by being there was too comforting to fight off. It’d become so natural to tune out the rest of the world when you were alone with Todoroki, like second nature to forget that the day dreams in your head were complete fiction. Being alone with him made it feel like it could be real, like the way your heart rate spiked when he laughed was normal because it was made for him to hold. His presence raised up the bubbles of hope in your chest until you felt like you were floating, like he’d placed you on top of a cloud and was letting you feel that sense of love you’d never really get, like he was letting you pretend your feelings for him were reciprocated without him even knowing it. 

It was like you craved Todoroki as much as you wished you could get away from him, like you wanted to fight the pull he had on you but feared how you would continue to breathe without him there giving you oxygen. He was simultaneously becoming your perfect dream and your nightmare, and slowly the two ideals were mixing into one muddled mess of emotions you were having trouble sorting through. You weren’t sure how to separate your feelings for him from reality anymore, weren’t sure how to continue being in his life without completely destroying your own heart in the process. 

A quiet click made your head move, eyes rolling as you groaned loudly and raised your hands to cover your face, Todoroki’s laughter mixing with the sound as he continued snapping away at you with his camera. You could hear his chair scraping against the wood as he stood up, footsteps indicating he was moving closer to you as your legs lifted, knees bent to try and curl yourself into a ball on the chair. 

“C’mon, stop covering your face, the lighting looks great right now.” 

“Knock it off.” 

“Please?” 

It felt right, with just the two of you there giggling over something so pointless, like that was how it was supposed to be. It felt like this was what the universe was supposed to have done, that all along it should have made the pair of you for the other, that you should have been the one that got to make him laugh like that every day. It felt like everything, for a moment, was how it was supposed to be, how your heart had decided it was supposed to be from the first moment you saw him in the park. Just you and Todoroki and no one else, nothing there to interrupt you besides the sounds of your own hearts beating. 

“Stop!” You laughed at his insistence, peeking out from between your fingers to find him bending closer to you, his cheeks pulled into a wide smile as your eyes connected for the second he lowered his camera slightly. He took another picture, you could tell by the sound of his shutter releasing, another groan falling from your lips, this one laced with laughter as he reached a hand out and started gently tugging at your wrist. The contact felt electric, like he was shooting fireworks off that were spreading up your arm and making your heart skip a few beats out of surprise, his laughter only serving to heighten how light everything felt.  

“Todoroki?” 

It was laughable how quickly your mood could plummet, the air no longer feeling light and delicate, but rather too thick for you to breathe in, spine locking up as your legs dropped back to the ground with a gentle tap from your shoes meeting the wood. Todoroki’s touch on your wrist vanished, his laughter trailing off as he stood upright and cleared his throat, your eyes burning into his as he stared at you before focusing off at the door. You didn’t want to look at who it was, didn’t want to see her smiling face when Todoroki moved past you to give her a hug, just knowing it was happening right beside you enough to make your fingers dig into your thighs. 

“Momo, I didn’t know you were stopping by.” His voice was pleasant but you could tell he was surprised, his posture stiff as he slowly came back into your line of sight with her in tow. You focused on her back at first, on the way her hair was tied up into a tight bun, on the clasp of her necklace that was catching the light as Todoroki pulled a chair over from the corner of the room for her to sit in. 

“I wanted to bring you lunch.” Her voice was delicate, like her full volume was someone else’s whisper, her arms folding in her lap as she sat down, Todoroki’s palm on her lower back as she did so enough to make you swallow harshly. She was wearing one of his jackets, you noted, that brown one with the elbow patch you’d sewn on for him when he ripped it during a night out. “I hope I’m not interrupting something.” 

“You’re not.” 

Her head whipped over to focus on you once you spoke, the smile on your lips feeling as ingenuine as it did uncomfortable, your fingers weaving together as she flashed you an tense grin with her nod. She was holding a paper bag with Todoroki’s name written on it in swirly black ink, a heart scribbled beside the T with a smiley face inside. She passed it off to him, her fingers brushing his own as he nodded in appreciation, setting the bag beside your own crumbled up one, it almost seeming like a metaphor for the two of you, one that made you exhale like a deflating balloon, the false sense of comfort you had now ripped away. Todoroki cleared his throat awkwardly, a silence falling over the room that made you itch to escape it, like the walls were closing in on you the longer you sat there watching him glance between the two of you. 

“Well, good.” She pressed her lips into a thin line as she nodded and looked over at Todoroki, your eyes flickering to her palm, seeing her soulmark when she flexed her fingers back and forth mid air, like she was trying to stretch out a muscle. Your own palm suddenly felt like it burned, like your subconscious was reminding you of how badly you wished you had that mark. You would have given anything to be in Momo position, to be the person that Todoroki would marry and have a forever with, to be the person Todoroki loved so strongly it was all consuming and soul changing. “How’s your day been?” 

It almost felt like you weren’t there, watching Todoroki turn his screen towards Momo as he started rambling on about his morning, like you were seeing a scene from a movie you didn’t want to be watching. You could almost picture them like that, like this was how they’d be as the years passed, chatting in their kitchen while the rest of the world fell away behind them, their skin growing wrinkles but their palms staying matching and pristine. It stung, like the bubbles of hope you let yourself build up were all being popped one by one, like wasps were stinging your insides just to put you back in your place. 

“Todoroki we need you out here for a second?” A girl poking her head into the room looked apologetic as she motioned for Todoroki to follow her, his eyes darting between your own and Momo’s before he was slipping out. You wanted to grab his wrist and drag him back in, wanted to force him to stay and serve as a barrier protecting you from talking to your own worst fear. Momo was everything you wished you were, the person you were most envious of and found yourself loathing when none of this was her fault. 

She couldn’t help it the universe had paired her with Todoroki, she couldn’t help it that she was made for him and you weren’t. It wasn’t her fault that you didn’t have a soulmate and yet on the nights you laid alone in bed you found yourself blaming her, because she had gotten the person you craved like a drug. She couldn’t change the fact that you were made to be alone, that you had fallen in love with a man that was made for someone else, someone you could never be. You could blame her all you wanted but none of this was Momo’s fault, and deep in your chest you knew that, you just wanted someone to be mad at. Disliking her had seemed the easiest way of avoiding the demons you liked to ignore, the truth of knowing that you were meant for no one and there was no reasoning behind it too much for you to accept. You wanted a cause, wanted an explanation, even if you’d never truly get one. 

And through your jealousy that temporary bandage of an explanation had become her. 

“He works too much sometimes, don’t you think?” Her light voice made you lift your head, eyes flickering over her features as she stared at his desk, drawing on the surface with the tip of her finger. She had a half smile on her lips as she shook her head side to side, laughing faintly as she adjusted in her seat, the dark jeans she had on almost matching the ones Todoroki had on, pale pink sneakers poking out beneath the ends of them. “I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes and find him typing away on his laptop.” 

You tried to laugh, tried to ignore how your chest stung picturing them in bed together, tried to pretend the mental image didn’t make you want to curl up in a ball and scream until your lungs gave out. She meant well, she was trying to make conversation rather than sit there in silence in her boyfriends office, but you doubted your amusement was even half convincing. You weren’t sure it was possible to be genuine when your insides felt like they were rotting, weren’t sure if you could even be truly happy when your soul had stopped trying to a while ago. 

“Yeah, he gets sucked into it sometimes.” Your head bobbed in a half nod as you focused back down on your legs, tracing circles around the red scratch on your knee from when you bumped into your bed frame earlier in the week. 

“I’m sure it’s just because he’s so passionate about it, but sometimes it worries me. I’d hate to see him overwork himself.” She trailed off, eyes focused on you judging by the slight shift in voice and the subtle goosebumps rising on the back of your neck. You lifted your head to lock eyes with her, hands overlapping each other in your lap as she pressed her lips into a thin line, like she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. “Does he mention it to you? That he’s tired or unhappy?” 

Todoroki was never really one to share emotions with people, not the ones that he didn’t deem good or important enough. It took you months of persistence before he opened up about any problems he had, any unhappiness that lingered in his heart. He took a lot on himself, held the weight of the world on the tops of his shoulders but still stood tall with a smile on his face. He didn’t like admitting he needed help or comfort, besides with a few people, and somehow you’d become lucky enough to be one of them. 

You’d become the friend who he called in the middle of the night to talk about the things that were keeping him up. You’d become the one who heard of all the problems his parents had caused for him, the one who listened to the things he disliked about society and the way the world worked. You were his confidant and his comfort blanket, and in many ways he was yours, the one person who never judged you when the mark on your hand made you want to ball your eyes out. He never pushed away from you when the rest of the world sent you judging looks, never let others assumptions change the way he acted around you. 

All he wanted at the end of the day was to be happy, and for the people he cared about to feel the same. You knew how heavily it weighed on him when someone was upset or unhappy, and sometimes he felt the need to try and fix things himself. He always went out of his way to do extra work if it’d help his co workers, always volunteered to be the one paying for other’s lunches so it wasn’t a burden. He always went to his family dinners even if they made him miserable, always put up with his parents nasty remarks and harsh judgements because he thought he had to. He pushed back in little ways, with his career and choice of friends, but sometimes you wondered if it was enough for him. 

He had a heart that was surely even more golden than the shimmering line on your palm, one that shined like a lighthouse in the dead of night, but also weighed heavily in his chest. Sometimes you wondered if he was stopping himself from being as happy as he made most everyone else. You questioned, if he could have anything in the entire world, what he would want, what the secret wishes were he had that he’d never uttered out loud. 

If you could wish for anything, you would wish for him. 

“No, but I don’t think he would admit working too much is a problem anyway.” She nodded, glancing away to focus out the window at your response, the light falling over her features like a spotlight on a beautiful painting. “I should get going, my lunch break is ending soon.” 

Her head moved up and down as you stood, eyes not turning towards you as you tugged down on your skirt, making sure it hadn’t ridden up. She was outlining her soulmark, you noticed, the dark lines stretching along her palm almost dark as the night sky, her teeth digging into her bottom lip. You could picture it on Todoroki’s, could see the mark you’d memorized and tried to wish away like a movie playing in your subconscious. They probably traced eachother’s all the time, probably had dreamed their whole lives of meeting the other and lucky for them they had. Lucky for them they had someone who matched them, they got to love the person they wanted to love and didn’t have to hide it under blankets of self loathing.

From the time you were a child it was all you heard about, soulmates, how magical and wonderful it would be when you met them. Everyone talked about it, about how that one person was the only one meant for you, society ensuring that with the laws preventing non-soulmate relationships over a certain age. There were people who didn’t like it, those who found the laws oppressive and out of date, considering most people ended up with their soulmate anyway, but fighting back was pointless. It was all so ingrained into society at this point, the nursery rhymes you’d sing at recess even laced with the messages of your one and only being the one you matched marks with. 

They always said the only person you’d truly love would be your soulmate, and maybe that was why ignoring how strongly you felt for Todoroki hurt so much. Because he wasn’t your soulmate, he didn’t match your mark and yet you’d fallen so damn in love with him it seemed impossible for your brain to accept he didn’t belong with you. Even there in his office, staring at the girl with a mark on her palm that was an exact copy of Todoroki’s, it felt wrong, like the burning in your chest was more than just jealousy. You loved him more than all the stars loved the night sky and you couldn’t help the thought that maybe you loved him more than Momo could. 

“I like your necklace, by the way.” You paused your movements towards the door when she spoke up, spine tensing as your fingers subconsciously rose to toy with the pendant hanging from your neck. You turned back towards her, her eyes drawn to where your hand was, her lips spread in a half smile that curved downwards as her fingers curled, hand palming into a loose fist on her lap. “Todoroki gave it to you?” 

She phrased it like a question but didn’t seem to want an answer, your lips parted slightly as you swallowed down hard. Your hand slipped away from the necklace, landing back at your side as you nodded once nonetheless, her eyes drifting away from the jewelry to instead float back up to your face, smile faded as she blinked a few times. The air felt heavier, more thick, like the unknown thoughts running through her head were clogging up the space, skin feeling too hot like suddenly you had on a hundred layers of clothing. 

“I found it one day, when I was doing the laundry. He’d forgotten to take it out of his jacket pocket before he tossed it in the hamper. I actually had thought it was a present for me. ” Her voice had dropped in volume, her head shaking as she exhaled all the oxygen from her lungs and took a quick glance at the necklace again. Your stomach felt like it dropped, like it had been filled with cement and was too heavy to stay put, an irrational sense of guilt crawling up your spine from the look on her face. She looked wounded and confused, wistful but unaware of what she wanted to say, mouth opening and closing twice before she finally spoke. “Is something going on between the two of you?” 

“What?” You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, surprised by her rather upfront question, and judging by the way her eyes widened momentarily she must not have meant to be so forward. She cleared her throat, pursing her lips and exhaling heavily as she looked out the windows again, your fingers curling into your palms to close into tight fists to hide how they were shaking. 

“Do you like Todoroki?” 

“Sorry about that.” Todoroki’s rush back into room cut off anything you would have said, lips parted and pulse pounding in your eardrums as you took a step back towards the door. It felt like you’d been caught red handed doing something you shouldn’t, like you were a little kid with their hands shoved into the cookie jar before dinner. Todoroki’s palm landed on your back as you stumbled slightly into him, his eyebrows raised when he focused down on you, hair falling onto his forehead like he’d just combed his fingers through it. “You okay?” 

“I have to go.” The words tumbled out as you stepped away from the warmth of his palm, ignoring his fingers as they tried to grasp onto your wrist, clearly confused as to why you were hurrying out. You could feel Momo staring at the pair of you, could sense Todoroki’s apprehension to just let you run off so clearly bothered. You knew he wouldn’t follow you, not with Momo there, his soulmate, with her perfect packed lunch for him waiting on his table top. 

It was like you were in a haze, barely anything registering in your eardrums as you walked back into your office, sitting down to riffle through the papers waiting for you on the desk, eyes moving over the words but not reading them. You couldn’t feel anything besides the pounding in your chest, the force so strong it felt like it might burst through your ribcage and fall onto your keyboard. 

You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to handle the situation or the question she’d thrown at you. What would she do if she found out you were in love with her soulmate? Would she keep him away from you and cut off the thing you cared about most. Did she know for a fact you liked Todoroki or was she just insecure? Was it that painfully obvious you were completely in love with him? If she knew you liked Todoroki, than did he know? It felt like the room was spinning and no one else could notice but you, like the walls were caving in and on them was written all of your secrets, ready to swallow you whole. 

All the worst case scenarios were flooding into your conscious and making your eyes burn, eyes squeezing shut, the paper fluttering between your fingers as your hands slightly shook from your nerves. It felt like all your emotions had skyrocketed and you didn’t know how to handle it. You simultaneously wanted to call Todoroki to listen to him talk until you calmed down and wanted to run as far away from him as possible, wanted to lock yourself in a room where no one could see you anymore. It was all too much for you to deal with alone but was too heavy of a secret to spill on anyone else. 

Who exactly could you tell that you were madly in love with your closest friend and his soulmate had perhaps figured that out? 

Who could you tell that your world felt like it was about to fall apart?

Sometimes when you were thinking too much your eyes stopped focusing, the world becoming fuzzy as all your attention poured into daydreams rather than what was right in front of you. It felt like a filter, like you’d applied a blur to the colors coming from your laptop, barely registering the sounds of laughter pouring from the speakers. You could fall into a fog when you were like that, could get so distracted away from the world around you with a few dazed blinks at nothing in particular. It always seemed to happen when you had the most on your mind, the loss of focus, your quiet breathing the background noise to the scenarios running through your mind. 

Right now those scenarios were all about Todoroki. 

You’d been thinking about what Momo said all afternoon, that alone enough to make a wave of panic ripple through your gut. She’d looked so distant, so unreadable but somehow intimidating, like she had your entire world in her palms and didn’t realize it yet. You questioned how long she’d been thinking about it, if finding the necklace from Todoroki was what spurred her self doubt or if she’d known from the first time she answered his phone for him and found you on the other end. You wondered if it poured out of you so visibly that everyone knew but just hadn’t had the heart to shut you down, that you were a silent laughing stock to the haves, the only have not there seemed to be who didn’t know their place. 

Your lungs deflated as your lids fell shut, feet shuffling beneath the blanket covering your legs, the sounds of the stupid action film playing on your laptop coming to a stop when you blindly reached out and smacked at the keyboard. The enveloping silence was both too quiet and too loud, letting your thoughts run rampant until they were so aggressive they felt like blood chilling screams. You didn’t know what to do or where to go now, you didn’t know how to handle a situation that hadn’t even happened yet. There were too many what ifs, too many possibilities for how Momo’s question came about and too many options for how bad the outcome from it would be. 

You’d never imagined loving someone would be so messy when you were growing up, always idolizing that passion for another human being as something almost magical, something otherworldly. Everyone made it seem like once you found it nothing else would matter, that the world would stop being so loud until all you could feel was that love in your chest. No one told you how bitter it would be, how acrid the taste in your mouth would be watching the person you loved be with someone else. No one took the time to sit you down and tell you maybe things wouldn’t work out how you wanted, no one set you aside and traced the gold on your palm to warn you maybe you wouldn’t be as lucky as everyone else. 

No one told you back then that maybe you’d be alone now. 

No one told you that love was only magical when someone was loving you back. 

The buzzing beside your thigh made your lids flutter open, the fuzzy light still coming from your computer painting your legs the color of a blue sky. You squinted at your cell phone, blinking rapidly as Todoroki’s name came into focus flashing across the front. He’d texted you a few times since you rushed off so suddenly earlier, always able to tell when something was bothering you even when you wouldn’t admit it. He had a way of knowing things about you before you knew them yourself, always noticing little quirks and habits that he’d point out before you realized you even had them. He knew you better than you did and at times it made it harder to ignore how strongly you felt for him, made it scarier to imagine moving far enough away you wouldn’t see his face everyday. 

Part of you was tempted to let it ring, to ignore his voice just a little longer, to try and peel yourself away from the strong hold he had on you without even realizing it. You didn’t know if he’d talked to Momo, if she told him her suspicions and was now just calling to let you down easy, didn’t know if he was calling to tell you he couldn’t be around you anymore because it caused her discomfort. You didn’t know if you could listen to him reject you, didn’t think you could handle how crestfallen you’d be if he quietly whispered that he couldn’t see you again. You didn’t know what you’d do if your worse case scenario was true and Todoroki was about to be ripped away from you, but the stronger part of your will power was desperate to hear his voice ringing in your ear drum, regardless of the words coming from his parted lips. 

“Hello?” 

“Thank gosh, I was starting to get worried.” His relieved sigh made your lips tug slightly up into a smile on your cheeks, picturing the way his hand was probably tugging through his hair in his bedroom, his legs folded up like a little kid. “You weren’t texting me back all afternoon.” 

“Sorry, I was just sort of out of it.” Your lips pressed into a thin line as you leaned back in your bed, palm resting flat on your stomach, the huge t-shirt that was serving as a pajama top bunching around your waist. “I didn’t mean to worry you.” 

“It’s alright.” He hummed for a moment, ears picking up on the sound of his bedroom window being pulled shut, before he let out a heavy puff of air, presumably moving to sit back down on his oversized bed. You wondered if he was alone in it, gut churning picturing Momo there beside him, nerves swelling with the unknown of where this conversation was going. “You just rushed out so fast earlier I thought I’d done something. You don’t usually ignore my texts and I guess I just thought the worst.” 

His faint chuckle at his own worry made your chest ache, eyes squeezing shut in relief that Momo hadn’t said anything to him, or at least if she hadn’t he didn’t seem to be taking it to heart. You still felt apprehensive, shaken up, like you were on the edge of a cliff and unsure of how good your balance was anymore. It was soothing to hear his voice nonetheless once you got over the initial panic, swallowing hard to get down the rock formed in your esophagus before you spoke.

“You worry too much, Todoroki.” 

“Only about you.” The laugh that followed the syllables made your lungs feel empty of oxygen, body rolling onto its side and face nuzzling slightly in the pillow. If you closed your eyes tight enough you could almost imagine it was Todoroki’s chest you were burying yourself against, could almost smell his cologne you’d memorized the scent of long ago. It was like you were intoxicated and the only think you’d ever tasted was him, like was your drug of choice and biggest addiction, one you didn’t want to worry about the consequences from. “I can’t stand when you’re mad at me. “ 

“I’m hardly ever mad at you.” 

“Remember that time I broke your coffee table and you didn’t talk to me for a week?” 

It was so easy to fall back into him, so easy to let the conversation flow naturally into your eardrums with him giggling through the phone and rambling everytime you responded. It was simple, loving him, when the rest of the world was quiet. It was easier to love him from afar, through the safety of a phone where you could hang up and close yourself back off once it was over. It was more difficult to hide the stares when you were in front of him, harder to swallow back the praises you wanted to shout at him, to stop yourself from grabbing his hand and never letting go. When you were apart you could pretend everything was fine, you could close your eyes and imagine your soulmarks matched, that he was yours and he was close enough for you to touch. When you were in front of him you were reminded of everything you didn’t have, reminded every time you saw his palm that he already had his someone and it wasn’t you. 

He made things feel easy, made the rhythm of you talking feel easy over the time that passed with him speaking to you through the phone. He chipped away at your unease and put a fog over the worries that had been burning into your brain, if only temporarily. His chatter about his afternoon and tangents about things you already knew were enough to make everything feel warmer, more gentle. He knew how to get to the deepest parts of you and brighten them, knew how to pull you from your own thoughts without much effort, in a way that you could only hope you did for him as well. 

“I wish I was there right now.” His heavy sigh made you swallow, rolling onto your back as you took a peek at the alarm on your bedside table, reading the blinking red numbers with a muted yawn. You ignored the fluttering in your stomach at the idea, picturing him momentarily there in bed beside you, imagining how incredible he’d look with his hair all fused up and his chest rising and falling like the rhythm of a slow ballad. 

“I’m sure Momo will be back soon from her parents, it’s not like you’ll be home alone that much longer.” Her name sounded foreign coming from your tongue but you tried to ignore it, arching your back and moving your legs as you tried to pry the blanket up from underneath you, slipping it over your body soon after. It was soft, like the texture of a those giant teddy bears people got for valentines day, the same color of the sun the sky had been wearing that morning. 

“She probably will, but that wasn’t what I meant.” 

You paused momentarily as his words floated through the phone, unsure of what to say to that, not positive what exactly he meant. It made your pulse quicken, pounding in your fingertips and eardrums like you’d just run a marathon in the middle of summer. He seemed to be contemplating how to continue, judging from the deep breathe you heard him suck in before he spoke again, voice somehow more gentle than before. 

“I wish I was there in your bed, in your apartment, with you.” He paused and cleared his throat slightly, the sound of him flopping onto his pillows melding with the car honking as it drove by down below on the street. “I miss you.” 

“You saw me a few hours ago.” You laughed faintly, heart in your throat and pounding so violently it was hard to breathe, something about his tone and choice of words feeling more intimate than you were used to with him. Suddenly the phone didn’t feel like it was giving you much distance from him, felt like it was making you more vulnerable without seeing his face to try and work out what was going on inside his head. 

“I don’t care, I miss you.” His voice dropped in volume, your lids falling shut as you took a heavy breathe, one that felt like it wasn’t enough oxygen even with your lungs swelled like close-to-popping balloons. “I miss your laugh and your smile and that look you get when you stare out the window too long and forget what we were talking about. I love when you do that, have I ever mentioned that to you? I love when you get all embarrassed or angry and try to act like you were listening to a single thing I said.” 

“What are you doing, Todoroki?” 

“I love your soulmark too. I know you hate talking about it and hate seeing it even more but it’s so beautiful. It’s the prettiest shade of gold, it reminds me of what the sun looks like right before it sets.” He ignored the slight wave to your voice as his kept getting softer through his rambles, your hands shaking as you used one to grip the blanket around your waist. It felt like the room was spinning, like your brain couldn’t keep up with the things tumbling past his lips. “Sometimes I wish mine looked like that. Sometimes I wonder how different things would be if mine matched yours.” 

You nearly dropped the phone, your lips pressing into a thin line to stop yourself from saying anything. Your eyes burned as you squeezed them shut, trying not to make a sound as you let the words replay in your head, fingers shaking as you gripped the blanket tighter. It was something you’d thought about a lot as well, about how desperately you wished your marks matched, about how different things would be if he was your soulmate. It was almost strange to hear him saying it, like you were daydreaming rather than being awake, like your dream had come a reality but was laced with a nightmare.

“I was so disappointed that day in the park, when I ran into you and I saw your palm when you went to brush off your sweater. Fuck my stomach just sank to my feet, like someone kicked me in the chest and tried to bash my ribcage in.” His bitter laugh sounded thick, too loud for how mutely he was speaking, your teeth clamping down onto your bottom lip in an attempt to stop yourself from letting him know there were stray tears slipping down your temples onto your cotton pillowcase. “I never hated my own soulmark before that, I never wanted so badly for it to go away or be someone else’s instead. ” 

“Don’t say things like that.” Your voice shook as you interjected him, sniffling once as you shook your head reverently on the bed, the room feeling too small, the air too hot, heart still like a drumbeat in your eardrums. 

“I wanted it to be you so bad.” 

You didn’t bother hiding the quiet cry that fell from your lips as you rolled over onto your side and pressed your cheek into the damp pillow, muscles too tight from how hard you were trying to hold yourself together. It felt right and wrong, it sounded like heaven and hell, hearing him tell you how damn much he wanted you to be his one, because it was what you wanted all along. You’d always wanted Todoroki, you’d wanted him since that day in the park and him finding a soulmate hadn’t changed that. 

But even if he meant the words past his somewhat tired and rambling state of speaking out loud it didn’t matter. Even if he was as in love with you as you were with him, the two of you could never happen, it was never and would never be allowed. Todoroki had a soulmate, and by law he had to be with her. You would never be allowed to touch his skin or kiss his lips, you’d never get permission to marry him someday or fall in love with the eyes of the world watching you. You could never have Todoroki, even if somehow what he was saying held as much weight as it felt like it did. Even if you both loved eachother, you couldn’t be in love, and that was what crushed you the most. 

“Todoroki?” You could faintly make out the sound of Momo’s voice as she called out in the background, cutting off Todoroki as he cleared his throat to say something else, your eyes snapping open, like someone had woken you up from a too deep sleep. Without thinking you pulled the phone from your ear, hitting end and tossing it away to the end of the bed, like it’d been on fire and you’d only now realized. 

Everything felt twisted now, more confusing than before, because Todoroki had never said anything like that to you. He’d never brought up that day you two met in the park, never said that he’d felt as stopped in his tracks as you had been. He never told you that he wished his palm looked like yours, never informed you of how angry it made him that you didn’t match, how much he hated his own palm after seeing yours. 

Todoroki had a soulmate, he had Momo, and he was supposed to be with her, but the words that had tumbled from his lips felt like ones he’d been stopping himself from saying for a long time. He sounded lost, confused, desperate for someone or something to give him a sign on what he was supposed to do, what all the things he’d bottled up meant. You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to handle the world piling all of this onto you, onto your already fragile heart and weaning self acceptance. You didn’t know how you were supposed to stop yourself from loving someone when he was making you feel like somewhere in the back of his mind, he loved you back. 

Your hands rose, covering the entirety of your face as you cried quietly into them, chest shaking as you choked on the air you tried to get down, everything feeling like too much once again. You were exhausted and wide awake simultaneously, desperate to sleep but scared of what you’d dream. You didn’t know didn’t know what was the right thing to do and what was the wrong, and weren’t sure which path you even wanted to take. You felt like the world had swallowed you whole, like you were thrown down a pit and left to figure out how to pull yourself free. 

There in your bedroom with his whisper of how much he’d wished you’d been made for him replaying in your head, you had never felt more confused.

-

[previous chapter] - [next chapter]

[honeyby]

Blake’s Words and Character Arcs

Blake describing her friends as the embodiment of certain words is one of my favorite moments in the series. We get to see how she views them, even after everything that happened. Ruby is purity, Weiss is defiance, and Yang is strength. They are the perfect words for these three characters, and part of that is because those traits are such a big part of their personal arcs. And all three of them are challenged on those traits throughout the show (particularly in volume 4).

Ruby’s word is purity and it fits her right away. She’s the youngest and least experienced in how the world works. Her mother is dead, but she was still very young when that happened. There’s an innocence about her in the first three volumes that everything will be okay as long as she has her friends. She knows there’s darkness in the world but she believes light will prevail!

Then comes the end of volume 3, where she sees first hand the brutality of Salem’s forces. She watches two of her closest friends die, sees Beacon falling from the attack and wakes up to find her sister depressed and angry and her other teammates scattered to the wind. The good guys...lost. How can anyone come out of that and still embody purity? She’s seen the worst the world has to offer. But she keeps going. She decides to do what she can to stop the people responsible for Beacon. Ruby watches her friends grieve and pushes down her own grief so she can fulfill her mission.

She doesn’t let what happen make her jaded. Ruby continues to place her faith in her friends and believe that there is good in the world and that that good is worth protecting! She’s willing to give people the chance to help them even when they no one else will (we see this with Raven and Cordovin). Ruby isn’t purity because she’s never been exposed to the darkness of the world. She’s purity because she has but still chooses to believe in the good in people.

As she learns more about her silver eyes it only becomes more apparent. Maria tells her that her eyes exist to protect life, which mirrors Ruby’s general attitude. There’s a beautiful moment in volume 4 where she decides not to focus on the people they’ve lost but instead on the people that they haven’t lost yet as her motivation. She may have lost some friends but she’s going to do everything in her power to make sure they don’t lose anyone else. It all culminates in the moment where she uses her eyes on the Leviathan, failing when she focused what they’d lost and only succeeding when she focused on the good memories that she wanted to protect. She’s able to think about the good times with Pyrrha and Penny and Yang instead of what they lost, to think about her mother and the joy that brings her even though she’s gone. Ruby can find that silver lining no matter how bleak things seem and that ability is her greatest strength. 

For Weiss and Yang (and Blake when we get to her) we can actually start at their trailers. Weiss’s fight is a direct result of her defying her father’s wishes. She’s at Beacon because she chose to be, not because she was told to. And yet, defiance is also something Weiss struggles with early on. She’s the most by the book member of team RWBY and by far the least likely to break the rules. Her early non-trailer defiance comes more in her rejection of being who her father wanted her to be.

Weiss makes more progress in volume 3 when she decides to forge her own path and ignore her father. She sacrifices herself to take out Flynt, refusing to let him attack Yang. When Velvet is in danger from the Paladin it’s her sheer determination to stop it that allows her do what she hadn’t been able to do before. She knows it would be safer to stay at the docks but finding Pyrrha is more important. There’s not just one singular thing she’s defying in volume 3; she just continually refuses to back down.

Like the others however, volume 4 challenges her growing defiance. She finds herself going right back to Atlas and the place she fought so hard to escape. Suddenly she’s faced with all these expectations and not-quite demands again and doesn’t feel like she can say no. Much of the defiance she’d gained disappears, and we don’t see it again until she snaps at the party. When Jacques puts her under house arrest she has two options: slip back into the obedient little girl in an attempt to regain her status or reject him and his orders so that she can escape. she chooses the latter, and in her defiance she finally manages to summon on purpose. She could’ve just as easily given up and been obedient but she chooses defiance.

And after she leaves it’s there in full force. She refuses to cower before Vernal and Raven and doesn’t hesitate to talk back to them. When facing Vernal she rejects being labeled by just her name. Come Atlas she’s openly defying her father at every opportunity and questioning Winter’s acceptance of the fate Ironwood has thrust upon her. When she’s face to face with Winter after Ironwood has deemed her and her team traitors she doesn’t hesitate to side with her team. Weiss knows who she is and that person is someone who won’t stand by when Ironwood wants to leave Mantle to die, even if it puts her at odds with Winter who she still deeply cares about. She’s done filling the role others expect her to play.

Yang’s word, strength, is evident from the moment we meet her. She walks right into a club full of armed goons and goes straight up to the guy in charge, knowing she can take them all if she needs to. And she can! Physically she’s the strongest on the team, but when Blake calls her strength she’s not talking about just physical strength. She was old enough to really remember Summer, found out shortly after that her birth mother had given her up, and dealt with a lot of feelings of loneliness as a child. Someone else who went through what she did might’ve turned out cold and distant but Yang is full of warmth and love, and able to use her own experiences to relate to others.

Her emotional strength is also very clear when Blake hesitates to believe her after the Mercury incident. She’s hurt of course, but she’s able to see that Blake has a very good reason for her reluctance and is able to give her that reassurance. It’s one of the biggest ways she and Adam are different. Adam seeks power, but Yang has a strength of character he never demonstrates. Adam relies on control and manipulation for his power where Yang is open and honest and gets her strength from her desire to protect those close to her.

Like the others, Yang’s strength faces a massive challenge in volume 4. Physically she’s dealing with the loss of her arm, but it’s her mental struggle dealing with her PTSD/general fear of getting back out there and dealing with Blake leaving that’s her biggest obstacle. She’s made good progress on the former by the time we see her in volume 4. Like with Weiss, she finds herself at a crossroads early on: does she stay home and keep recovering or does she try to find Ruby? She knows Ruby isn’t alone and she knows that Qrow is with her or at least near her. She doesn’t have to go find her. Ruby understands that Yang needs time to take care of herself. But having that goal, having someone out there she could find gives her a reason to try.

So she takes that first step and decides to work on getting back out there. It’s a step even a famed huntress like Maria wasn’t able to do. Yang’s not completely better at the end of volume 4 or even several volumes later, but by finding the strength to start fighting again she starts really healing. She’s able to find and face Raven and is able to get the relic from her by being not physically but mentally stronger. When Blake comes back she has the strength to forgive her even if things are awkward for a while (especially noteworthy after Ghira’s comment that there is strength in forgiveness). She’s able to open up about her fears about Adam and eventually face him even though it terrifies her. Her strength, particularly mentally, is even more apparent now than it was when we first met her.

Blake may not have given herself a word but I believe there’s only one word that suits her: bravery. It’s a huge contrast to how she sees herself for a lot of the show which in turn makes it a powerful choice for her. In volume 2 she expresses that she feels she runs away too much between leaving Adam in the black trailer, running away after she outed herself as a faunus, and just the very nature of her semblance. It’s only compounded when she runs after the fall of Beacon. Her tendency to run away and struggle with bravery is something she spends the next two volumes working on, much like how Ruby, Weiss, and Yang also deal with having to navigate their purity, defiance, and strength in the context of a post fall of Beacon world.

The biggest thing is that Blake’s view of herself isn’t accurate. A lot of it is a result of the way Adam treats her. He frames her parents as cowards for leaving the White Fang, makes her believe she’ll always run when she finds him at Beacon, and refers to her as a coward multiple times just in what we see. But the people that love her know that none of it’s true. Ghira sees how brave it was for her to face the White Fang time and time again. Yang sees her as someone who won’t back down from a fight. Ruby and Weiss know she had a good reason to leave, and Yang does as well when she’s able to distance herself from how hurt she was. And they’re the ones that are right, not Adam.

Blake cites running from Adam as one of the things that makes her a coward, but leaving is one of the bravest things she’s ever done. She pulled herself out an organization that turned into a cult-like terrorist group and managed to escape someone that abused her for years. She doesn’t hesitate to confront the White Fang any time she can and infiltrates a meeting like it’s nothing. When she first runs into Adam at Beacon she, despite the absolute fear she must be feeling at seeing him so unexpectedly, stands her ground. Even right before she runs she stares him down all in the name of protecting Yang and drags her through the Grimm infested Beacon to get her to safety.

And even when she runs and heads home, she’s still far braver than she gives herself credit for. It’s been years since she’s seen her parents and she’s so scared they’ll reject her but she still decides to face them. And they accept her back because they love her and know that she’s so much better than she thinks she is. While she’s not initially ready to fight the White Fang in Menagerie because she still needs to deal with her trauma, she makes it very clear that she’s not done fighting. Even after everything she’s been through she never lacks the courage to do what she thinks is right. And when the time comes she’s able to convince the faunus of Menagerie to come to Haven with her courage. She understands their fear, how it’s easier to stay home and say nothing than it is to stick yourself out there and put yourself at risk for complete strangers. It’s not the exact fear she struggles with, but she still gets it. Blake doesn’t know if her speech will work, but she’s willing to face Adam and the White Fang alone if she must.

And in Haven she does face him. She sees him for the first time since Beacon and she’s able to triumph. Blake is done with running away, done with letting Adam manipulate her and make her feel small. She’s able to face her team, knowing they had every reason to reject her but that wasn’t going to stop her from trying. And they welcome her back with open arms. When she faces Adam for the final time she’s able to stand side by side Yang and triumph, even if she’s so afraid that Yang will believe what Adam says about her. She’s worked so hard to undo what he did to her and makes it clear that she’s done with running and Yang understands that.

Blake’s struggle with bravery and viewing herself as a coward is just such a big part of her character arc, the same way maintaining purity despite the darkness in the world is for Ruby, the way fighting to stay defiant and to be herself despite familial expectations is for Weiss, and the way regaining the strength she never really lost is for Yang. She faces more challenges with it thanks to her history with Adam, but she also expresses her bravery constantly even in the smallest of ways. Blake lets people in despite her fears of hurting them, is able to express how Adam made her feel and face him multiple times, and never backs down from a challenge. If there were a living embodiment of the word bravery in RWBY it would be Blake.

[bridgyrose]

I’m in a Christmasy mood. How about a “it’s a wonderful life” inspired au?

This one is a bit longer, so its going to have a read more so Im not making a huge ass post on everyone's tumblr

Ruby sighed as she looked out to Atlas, the city burning as grimm flooded the streets, reminding her of what happened at Beacon. She got up and started walking back to her friends, their plan to take down the whale not going as planned. Everything had gone wrong. Her trying to use her eyes, Winter taking the bomb into the creature, Yang going off alone to find Oscar… the whole thing was a mess. She tended to the wounds of her friends, shaking slightly. “None of this would’ve happened if I wasnt a silver eyed warrior…”

“Is that what you really think?”

Ruby quickly drew her scythe, looking around. “Who said that?” 

A woman with brown hair appeared in front of her, smiling. “Do you really think your life would be better without your silver eyes?” 

“Who are you?” 

The woman walked closer. “My name is Amber. And I’m here to show you what would’ve happened had you not had your silver eyes.” 

Ruby put her scythe away. “And how, exactly, are you going to show that to me?” 

Amber approached Ruby and put a hand on her shoulder, using a gift of the gods to show Ruby what could’ve been. 

Ruby felt a bit disoriented as everything shifted around them, the city of Atlas changing to Vale, back to the dust robbery she stopped. She looked around, hesitating for a moment. “Why are we here? I stopped this from happening.” 

“You did, when you had silver eyes. Instead, now that you dont…”

Ruby watched as her own visage was tossed through a window, struggling to keep hold of her own weapon as a few thugs all jumped her. 

“Your uncle didnt teach you how to fight. Your father tried to keep you from being a huntress. But you still wanted to be one, teaching yourself and trying to prove yourself. You ended up here one night and once the robbery started, you tried to teach them a lesson, instead learning one yourself.” Amber waved her hand, forwarding to the aftermath of the fight. 

Ruby watched as her old home appeared, watching herself struggle to get inside, wheelchair bound with a broken leg and arm. “So I didnt get into Beacon. That still doesnt change much-”

“But it changed everything.” 

Ruby watched as clouds of mist swirled around them, bringing them to Beacon. She watched as Yang, Blake, and Weiss were still on a team together, along with Jaune. 

Amber sighed. “This team was never functional without you. Weiss ended up being the leader, mocking faunus for who they were. Blake will eventually get tired of it and run away. Jaune and Yang will try to get Weiss to go find her, but she’ll insist they’re better off without her.” She waved her hand again, forwarding through the events until they saw the docks. “When Blake ran to try to prove her own innocence, things took a turn for the worse. Without you meeting Penny and making friends with her, the White Fang outnumbered her and Sun.” 

Ruby watched helplessly as Blake and Sun were beat and left for dead by the sheer numbers of White Fang. As the cops arrived, they took Blake and Sun into custody, arresting them for trying to steal dust. “But they were innocent. Why dont they see that?” 

“Without you, Penny, Weiss and Yang showing up, many of the White Fang got away, helping those that couldnt and leaving Blake and Sun to take the blame for the gunfire and the missing dust.”

“But then… that means they would get expelled, right?”

“They’ll get lucky and Ozpin will vouch for them being hunters in training. But this breaks Blake. She will never learn to trust her team, going after the White Fang alone and ultimately putting herself in danger.” 

Ruby sighed and looked away. “O-okay, so things dont end up going well for Blake. What about Weiss? I’m sure she’s happier without me.” 

Amber moved them along to the Fall of Beacon. “Through the school year, Weiss stays bitter and angry, blaming Blake for everything that happened. Including when Beacon fell.”

Ruby watched her school burn again, but this time, things were different. More students laid dead from the grimm that started overwhelming them. More grimm poured through Vale, the Breach never happened, allowing grimm to pour in right into the heart of Vale, destroying everything and rushing up to the school. The wyvern grimm could be seen flying high above, raining more goo down and creating more grimm. 

Amber started walking forward, showing Ruby Weiss. “When the fall of Beacon happened, Weiss stayed for as long as she could to defend the school Right up until her father dragged her home.” She waved her hand again, showing Weiss in her bedroom at home, bottles of wine laying near her. “She did her best to try to keep her father from getting under her skin, doing what it took for her to be the best heiress she could be for her company. Unfortunately, it wasnt enough for her. Without anyone to lean on, without friends who cared about her that she could think about, the stress became too much. It didnt take long for her to start following in her mother’s footsteps.” 

Ruby slowly walked up to Weiss, watching her. “But.. she had her team-” 

“She never did.” 

Ruby hesitated for a moment. “But Yang and Jaune. They would’ve tried to help her, right? They could’ve kept her from going down this path.” 

Amber slowly shook her head. “They tried. And they failed.”

“She could’ve gone to Atlas Academy. That was always an option for her.” 

“And her father wouldnt hear it. Even Ironwood’s influence couldnt help her.” 

Ruby sighed. “O-okay, what about JNPR. T-they were better off, right?” 

Amber smirked a bit and showed Shade Academy to Ruby. 

Ruby hesitated for a moment, trying to put the pieces together. “I… I dont understand. Why would they come here?”

“Without you, they didnt have the conviction to go after Cinder. They stuck around Beacon for a while, trying to help with the clean up. Once it became clear what they were doing wasnt making a difference, they made their way to Shade with CFVY. Which reminds me…” The visage of Shade disappeared, showing the ruins of Haven. 

Ruby stood there, eyes wide at what she was seeing. “Haven… it’s all gone... “ 

“Since you never brought anyone to Haven, the White Fang succeeded in destroying it.” 

Ruby thought for a moment. “But Blake came around last time with other faunus from Menagerie. What happened to them?”

Amber sighed. “A-are you sure you really want to see this?” 

“I have to know what prevented Blake! That cant be my fault!” 

Amber waved her hand once more, showing Blake with Adam, donning the White Fang gear again. “As I said before, she learned not to trust humans. When she went off on her own to try to stop the white fang, things didnt go as they did before. Adam threatened her family and gave her a choice: join him again, or watch her family suffer because of her. With no one else to turn to, she chose to join up with Adam once more, being with the White Fang again. She led the White Fang’s assault on Haven, making sure nothing was left standing.” 

Ruby took a few deep breaths, taking everything. “So… without me… Weiss and Blake both fell back into their old lives? But… I couldn’t have made that much of a difference on them. What about Yang? Surely things ended up differently with her.”

Amber made one last gesture, taking Ruby to the Branwen tribe. 

Ruby walked around, looking for Yang, stopping when she found her. “No…” 

“I’m afraid so.” Amber walked up behind Ruby. “Raven told her about everything that was going to happen during the fall of Beacon. Yang didnt believe her at first. But after everything happened, after losing her team and believing Blake to be dead, she went off to find Raven to join her tribe.” 

Ruby sighed and sat down. “All of my friends, my team…”

Amber put a hand on Ruby’s shoulder. “And now for one last thing for you to see.” 

Ruby was about to ask until her vision went black. When she opened her eyes, she saw her own reflection staring back at her in the mirror. She hesitated for a moment once she saw blue eyes staring back at her. She took a moment to walk around the dark house, hearing her dad down stairs. She rushed down to him, stopping for a moment. “D-dad?”

Tai turned to look at her, clearly broken up about Yang leaving. “Oh, Ruby… it’s just you.” 

Ruby slowly walked to him and hugged him. “Are you okay?”

Tai hugged her back. “I’m fine sweetie. I was thinking about Yang and hoping she was okay.” 

“W-we could go after her-” 

“No. You’re going to stay right here. I’m not going to lose you too. I’ve already lost your mother, Yang, and Raven. I refuse to let you go.”

Ruby hesitated. “I… I can fight-”

“I said no. If anything, go take Zwei for a walk. But stay close. With the grimm crawling all around Vale, I cant risk you getting hurt too.” 

Ruby sighed and went to find Zwei, not believing what she was seeing. Everything just seemed… wrong. She went outside and looked up to the sky. “Okay Amber. I… I see your point. I… I want to go back now. Please.” 

Amber appeared before Ruby one last time. “Now do you see why you having silver eyes was never a bad thing? Ozpin may have only allowed you to join Beacon early because of them, but without that, you never would’ve made the impact on others as you have now.” 

“I’m… understanding that now.”

Amber smiled a bit as a flash of light appeared behind her. 

Ruby covered her eyes, feeling like she was blinded. Once the light died down, she looked around at her friends again, sighing in relief. She gently started changing Weiss’s bandages, thankful to have her team back. 

[writingstruggles]

Ben Solo/Kylo Ren: a character analysis

OK, first things first: THIS ISN’T A STAN OR ANTI POST. This is a character study, and if you can’t handle this character getting impartial concrit, just don’t read. If, however, you don’t agree with some of the points I’m going to make and want to have a healthy discussion about it, then I’m all ears. I don’t think my opinion is the only valid one, so feel free to try and change my mind.

And second things second: I tried so hard to love the sequel trilogy, but when it became clear after TROS that the studio had no plan other than making money, it became very difficult. I’m aware that the main problem for all the characters is the lack of general planing in this whole mess of trilogy, so keep this always in mind while reading this post: the first problem of this character was that the studio didn’t even know what to do with him.

1. Does Ben Solo becoming Kylo Ren make sense?

I checked the comics to get his background better. He had a happy childhood traveling a lot with Han and Leia, but when she discovered about the First Order, she sent him to train with Luke while Han and Chewie ran undercover missions for her. This is important: up to this point, he had a good relationship with his family, even if he was already being pulled by the dark side of the Force. It was during his adolescence that he started to be really seduced by Snoke, hearing the voice he thought belonged to Darth Vader. After the Luke incident, he did explode the cabin and thought he had killed his uncle, but he was not the one who killed all the other students and destroyed the temple: that was Snoke’s thing. He did kill some of his fellow Jedi apprentices later on, though. So, his turning points were Luke’s treason and Snoke’s coordinated abduction. And I would like to point out: the Sith training involves torture and brainwashing, so the first wrong impression I would like to correct about this character is that he was not simply a dick and revolted teen who ran away to join a cult.

BUT, there are some huge problems here. The first one is that when you watch the movies, you don’t learn anything about that aside from Luke’s part. In the way he’s presented in TFA, he’s Leia and Han’s son who betrayed his family, destroyed his uncles’ dream and joined the dark side for no reason. OF COURSE half of the audience wouldn’t like him. That wouldn’t be a problem if they just wanted him to be a villain like Darth Vader was, but it’s very clear that there was a plan (at least for one director) to make him a supposedly redeemable character. And how can we sympathize with his character like that? Even after we get to know what Luke almost did, the next question is simple: ok, so why he didn’t go back to Han and Leia?

And here is the second huge problem: we learned that after Ben leaves Yavin IV, Luke vanished, and Han and Leia broke up and went back to smuggling/leading a rebellion. And I can’t stress this enough, this doesn’t make any sense. The sequel trilogy killed Luke, Han, and Leia’s characters. These three characters that we have known for years would never, ever, had abandoned Ben Solo. Leia F*cking Organa and Han shot-first Solo would have brought their son back or die trying. Luke Skywalker is not a coward, he wouldn’t go into hiding and abandoned his only sister to clean up his mess during another war, let alone close himself to the Force, knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to feel if she was in danger. Just remember Han risking his life to save Luke in Hoth; or Leia leaving the rebellion to rescue Han from Jabba; or Luke straight-up disobeying ghost Obi-Wan and ghost Yoda to save Han and Leia, even if that costed the war. They were older and different, for sure, but we are talking about the quintessential things, the things that make these beloved characters themselves.  

(THIS ^^. This right here is the spirit of Star Wars)

So no, in the way it was done in the movies, Ben Solo becoming Kylo Ren doesn’t make sense to the audience, and that’s a huge problem. A friend of mine suggested once that instead of being a rip-off of ANH, TFA should have been a movie about the beginning of the First Order (because after we defeat the Empire on episode VI, episode VII starting with ANOTHER all-powerful evil government already dominating the galaxy and exploding planets just throws away all the previous movies’ efforts) and about how Ben Solo becomes Kylo Ren. Just imagine if Rey, Finn and Poe had interacted with Ben Solo before he becomes evil: the stakes would have been so much higher, and it could have been well done. It would have made this character more human and likable.

2. Kylo Ren’s motivations: what does he want?

If the OT was about hope, I think we can agree that the ST’s themes are legacy and belonging. Having their protagonists, Rey and Ben/Kylo representing two apposite sides of those things was one of the best ideas for the new saga.  Rey looks for belonging in the past she doesn’t know, while Kylo wants to abandon Ben Solo’s past and find his place in his future as Kylo Ren.

In that sense, his character arc was somehow solid. In TFA, it’s clear he’s still struggling with the dark side and feels the temptation of the light: he loses control easily, and he’s not doing anything unless Snoke orders him to. Ok, but why? Why is he clinging to Darth Vader’s ideals and staying in the sith path? Basically because he thinks it’s too late, and he has no other options. Which brings us back to the problem with Han and Leia: his parents didn’t go after him, they chose to go back to their old lives – of course he would think there’s no going back for him now. “But he is an adult man and could make his own decisions.” It’s a fair point, but again: sith training corrupts you and even if he had escaped, the only thing that would happen would be Snoke finding him again. It’s kinda like leaving an addiction: you supposedly can do it by yourself, but it is so much easier if you have help. Not a simple promise or offer, but actual, constant, and present help. I can not stress this enough, but I insist that one of the main problems with the sequel trilogy was not explaining in a satisfactory way HOW and WHY he turned to the dark side and stayed there.

3. Han Solo

Okay, I will admit: maybe my opinion on this specific topic is biased, because Han Solo is my favorite SW character. You may call me out as a fangirl if you don’t agree, but my point is: making Kylo Ren kill Han Solo was a bad idea. They basically killed the character for half of the audience, with zero chance of redemption.

It’s because it’s fratricide. Unless your father is Satan, the Emperor, or someone as equally villainous, fratricide is just that bad. It’s not easy to redeem a character who commits murder, but one that kills his own father? Who happens to be one of the good guys? And one of the most iconic and beloved characters in the franchise? There were other options to give Kylo Ren a tipping point, a conflicted moment that didn’t involve killing Han Solo. But they did, and he killed him. And now he’s no longer a villain we can sympathize with: now we think he’s a monster.

4. His interactions with Rey in TLJ

(I’m not wearing shipper goggles for this. I don’t even own shipper goggles when we are talking about Star Wars.)

Kylo Ren is conflicted after killing Han Solo, (and I will make a small pause here to reinforce how good Adam Driver’s acting was. He’s the only responsible for all the likable parts of Kylo Ren, especially in this movie). Kylo is once again unstable and Snoke is displeased with him, and for a moment we think he finally turned completely to the dark side, until he pauses before shooting Leia’s ship.

The force bond was the most interesting part of the movie. I don’t agree that he used it to manipulate Rey: if anything, he was completely harsh and blunt and kind of a dick to her, but he didn’t lie. He told her things how he saw it, with so much conviction that she started to see his side of the story. And since she was probably the first person in years that actually listened to him, his decision of murdering Snoke and inviting her to join the dark side makes very much sense.

We are talking about motivations and his are simple: let the past die, forge a new path. When he kills Snoke and no longer has a master, he only has one option: to become the master. That’s why he takes over the FO, and wants Rey to be his apprentice. Does the character suffer from sith-tunnel-vision? Definitely. But it makes sense. His decision-making is not overly complicated: he feels alone, and he wants a purpose: he decides that the solution for both is Rey joining him in the dark side. When she refuses, he still has one purpose: the FO.

This is, however, the point where he turns his back to the light completely: on Crait, he orders the FO to explode the Rebel Base and kill everyone, knowing full well his mother was in there. He orders them to exploded the Falcon out of the sky, once again knowing that Chewie and Rey are on board. When facing Luke, he repeats that he will kill Rey and the rebels. His transition from conflicted sith apprentice to the new villain of the franchise was actually well done.

And exactly because of that, the next topic pisses me off so much.

5. The continuity problem between episodes VIII and IX

Introducing Palpatine here was bad for so many reasons: backtracking Rey’s arc, making us think about Palps’ sex life, insisting on beating a literal dead horse when there were new things to explore, etc etc. And it was also bad for Kylo Ren’ arc. As I said before, the way they finished episode VIII, everything pointed to Kylo becoming the final evil Rey would have to face, and that would have been awesome. We didn’t need Palps, or ANOTHER all-powerful evil army ready to conquer the galaxy with exploding-planets-tech (seriously, is Alderaan a joke to you, Disn*y?).

  But, in the third movie, they went back and decided they didn’t want Kylo Ren to be the ultimate villain anymore. They wanted him to be redeemed. And that’s not bad per se, but an actual redemption arc needs to be planned, and I think we can all agree, there was no planning in the sequels. And again, FRATRICIDE. So they introduced an old, more powerful evil to make Kylo Ren less evil and less of a threat in comparison. And evil so definitive, and with such a bullshit connection to Rey, that it makes Kylo reconsider his previous promises of killing the last jedi and going back to the plan of making her turn.

And so, his character spends the movie going after Rey, to tell her the bullshit truth about her parents, to convince her to join him. At least his arc is still somehow solid, because once he’s decided on his path, he doesn’t lose control like in the previous movies, and his body language is more firm and lethal. Which, honestly, thanks Adam Driver, he knew the character way better than the director at this point.

He finally comes back to the light when Leia dies. Although it was rushed, I agree that, at that point, it was literally the only thing that could have made him turn. Rey reminding him that he wouldn’t be alone if he hadn’t chosen the dark side helped, too. It was clear that the moment with Han Solo was supposed to be with Leia, but I’m really glad Harrison Ford agreed to come back to fill in the role for his old friend.

6. Ben Solo

Okay, there’s so much to unpack here. When Ben Solo finally comes out to play, it’s very good. We can finally see some things that explain Kylo Ren better – it’s so obvious how awkward he was in his own body trying to be an evil sith lord when he is clearly a natural disaster. He still suffers from tunnel vision, but at least now it’s Skywalker-do-or-die tunnel vision. It’s like a weight was lifted from his shoulders, and the way his actions scream Han Solo makes me, once again, wish the first movie had been about him, and not the whole “find a map/ Star Killer base was ANOTHER ridiculous idea / I know R2’s alignment is chaotic bastard but COME ON”.

Star Wars has a notorious story with pulling Force powers out of nowhere, and I’m not going to pretend to be an expert in SW lore, so I won’t complain about the dyad thing (and the weird stuff with the light sabers). I honestly liked the concept. There’s a lot I have to say about the final battle against Palpatine, but I think it would fit better in a future character study about Rey (God, that’s going to be another long ass post). I just want to add that after Luke insisted on her taking both light sabers to Exegol, and after all the crazy stuff Ben did to get to her, they should have, you know, actually fought side by side against 85% dead Palpatine? Aren’t these two idiots supposed to be stronger than that?? I’m not complaining about Rey bringing him down “alone” since she is the protagonist yada yada, I just wished that Ben had done something, instead of being thrown into a hole.

(Palps did that out of spite because of his grandfather? I bet he did.)

I won’t say I didn’t cry hearing the voices of the past jedi talking to Rey, because I definitely did. If anything, it was great to see so many beloved actors getting a chance to honor such iconic characters. But are you freaking shitting on us? Where were ANY of those assholes when Luke, Leia and Ben needed them, like, ten years ago?? “Well, force ghosts should not be used as ex machinas, and they don’t see the future” Tell that to episodes IV, V and VI. Anakin, Obi Wan and Yoda can show up for Vader weird funeral/party with ewoks but they can’t send a jedi signal for the Skywalkers to warn them about Sith bullshit about to happen? “They were probably ahead in the world the comes next and they didn’t have a way to come back, they just talked to Rey because Exegol is a Force nexus and-” And so is Ach-To. And so is Yavin IV. And so is Dagoba (Yes, Snoke sent Ben there for training). Look, I have no problems with Force Ghosts, I love them bastards. I’m just so freaking mad with the lack of coherence in this trilogy. If they did not talk to the Skywalkers – and I’m sure at least Luke and Ben asked Obi Wan/Anakin to show themselves A LOT – they should not have talked to Rey. It was a crowd please moment, for sure, but it was another gigantic middle finger to Ben Solo (before he becomes Kylo Ren).

And then Rey died, and Ben brings her back. I know how many funny jokes are going around in the fandom about how resurrecting Qui-Gon or Padme would have saved the galaxy so much trouble, but again, I’m okay with that. It was previously established that since they were a dyad, they had this living Force between them (although it was rushed in the final like everything else). And it does make sense Ben doing that: he had just come back to the light, and his parents were both dead. Han and Leia were gone because of him, the last time he saw Chewie was as his captor, and before that, he got shot by him, etc, you get the idea. He had nothing else, only this: the chance to make it right by a person that genuinely cared for him. Exchanging his life for Rey’s was nothing: he knew that his family would be waiting for him in the world that comes after.

So, did I like the Bendemption? It. Was. Not. A. Redemption. It was the right choice, and it made things right between him and Rey, because she forgave him for everything. But that’s it. He did not face the consequence of any of his previous actions. “But he died for her!” And we just established that it was not a difficult choice, considering that he had literally no reasons to stay alive if Rey was dead. If you want to see an actual redemption arc, go watch Avatar the Legend of Aang.

And finally, the kiss and the death. Okay, I know I’m digging my own grave by addressing that, but my mama raised no coward. Here it goes: it was fan service, pure and simple. It’s there to make part of the fanbase happy. Good for you, reylos, but to us, not shippers, it came out of nowhere. And I’m not questioning if they had feelings for each other or not: I’m talking about pacing and characterization. I’m not 100% convinced that Rey, as a character, as she was presented to us so far, would have done that. It felt out of place, and it broke the immersion of the scene. I was emotionally invested on what was going on, I was happy to see Ben smiling at her and everything, but then suddenly they were sucking faces and the “FAN SERVICE” alarm was so loud in my mind that I immediately lost interest. If they wanted that in the movie so much, there was probably a better way to do that.

It makes sense that Ben had to die to bring Rey back: one life for another and everything. I still think that, story-wise, it would have been better if none of them had died a ridiculous death, and Ben had faced the consequences of his actions as Kylo Ren, but okay, moving on.  The main problem here is what happens after he dies: nothing. Absolute-effing-nothing. He dies, he disappears – which, again, I won’t question because Leia was involved and Skywalkers do whatever they want with the Force and I’m no expert – but that’s it. Rey, the same Rey that had just jumped his bones fifteen seconds earlier, doesn’t even mourn him. She doesn’t cry, she doesn’t do anything for him in the end, she just goes to Tattooine because it makes sense to the Skywalker saga to end where it started. She sees more of those Force Ghosts who never appear when they freaking should and that’s it.

Why is it bad? Well, first, like it or not, Ben Solo/Kylo Ren was one of the main characters and he deserved an actual final. Finn and Poe too, but those are long posts for another day. And second, it makes the fan-service in that kiss scene more evident. You can’t have the girl kiss him and in the next scene act like it didn’t matter at all. “Ok, then it was a thank-you kiss and there were no real feelings of loved involved”. But that makes it worse, it would be even more completely out of character for Rey – who avoids physical contact with people on the regular – to just kiss someone as a thank-you. Do you see how the math does not compute? If she had feelings for him, and therefore kissed him, she should have mourned him. If anything, she should at least miss her other part of the dyad thing. And if she didn’t mourn him because she didn’t have actual feelings, then she should not have kissed him. A little consistency, it’s all I’m asking.

7. Conclusions (aka tl;dr)

He was a somehow consistent character, but the lack of plot for the sequels was a huge problem. If the trilogy had been about Ben Solo becomes Kylo Ren – Kylo Ren kills Snoke and becomes the real villain – Rey faces Kylo Ren and she either saves him or kills him, it would have been so much better than the mess the studio did.

His story in the comics is so much more complex than what it is shown in the movies, but what they did to Han, Leia and Luke was a crime.

It was clear that one director had a vision to give him a redemption, and the other to make him the ultimate villain.

Adam Driver did what he could to make this character solid and somehow likable, let’s thank him for that.

There was no reason to bring Palps back,

Rey’s actions in the final are contradictory,

He should have stayed alive to face the consequences of his actions,

and the studio is charged guilt for getting our hopes up just to crush them with their lack of interest in doing something descent for the fans.

But again, that’s just my analysis of this character. Feel free to disagree with me, I would love to see what other people think about Ben Solo/Kylo Ren.

[ardentprose]

Cold Brew - Chapter One

Thank you so so much for your incredible patience. I fought sentence by sentence through this writer’s block. My beta reader says she loves it so I hope you guys feel it was worth the wait as well!

Warnings: Language (if more, please let me know)

Prologue

November 5th

Yoongi’s Perspective

As late November creeps in and extracts life with it, a freezing wind arrives to battle manufactured warmth. Pedestrians in search of such heat are bundled up in hoodies, noses and mouths burrowed under scarves and eyes blinking against the harsh wind. Autumn’s bolstering reds, oranges and yellows turn to muted brown leaves crushed underfoot or are the few still hanging from branches that brush forlornly at the cafe’s display windows. 

On the other side of the window, the clock ticks harmony to the melody of glass mugs clinking against wooden table tops. The barren atmosphere outside contrasts the cafe’s interior alive with patrons enjoying hot drinks and pastries. College students sit throughout the place, some lounging on couches, others chatting away at the bar, and the studious few hunch over textbooks. 

“Alright I’m done. I can’t concentrate anymore. The Hangeul is starting to look like morse code and I’m pretty sure half of this is illegible.” 

With something between a sigh and a grunt you close your handwriting book and rest your elbows on top of the cover. Yoongi finishes out his last English word, double-checking it with the textbook’s. 

“Give it to me.” 

He meets your eyes at your words, sending a wayward thought from his mind before it can distract him from your daily routine. Setting his English aside, Yoongi reaches for the coffee housed in a green ceramic mug, courtesy of the cafe’s commitment to a homey atmosphere. Slender fingers rest on the lip and slide it across to your awaiting gaze.

Ever since these coffee shop study sessions had been agreed upon, Yoongi had dedicated himself to enhancing your lackluster taste for coffee whenever the hours started to numb either one of your brains. It really wasn’t out of the blue, studying in a coffee shop and all, for him to discover you disliked coffee and ordered green tea with three spoons of sugar and two of honey on purpose. Not for the sake of your singing voice, but willingly.

He had started you off easy, sliding an iced mocha caramel latte to you on your second session. Confused at the gesture, you cautiously took the drink while Yoongi was adamant you would love it. It wasn’t bad, and you could admit that much to ease his blazing eyes boring into your expression, waiting for a positive reaction. 

The second drink had been slightly less doctored up: an iced coffee with just caramel mixed in, no whip cream or chocolate syrup. At this one, you hummed and chose your words carefully. 

“It’s good.” At this, Yoongi nodded and licked his lips. At which point you returned the drink to his all too eager eyes which lit up like a child on Christmas. 

So forth and so on the drinks Yoongi ordered got less and less sweet. The creative mixes of spices and fine grounds of the bean - according to Yoongi - made all the difference. With these, he enticed you further down the caffeinated path. 

This led Yoongi to right here, right now, in this moment. After months of coaxing you towards quality cups of joe, he was introducing perhaps the best combination of water and bean out there. His absolute favorite: a strong, ice cold brew.

He leans forward as your palms wrap around the cold mug and lift it to your lips. He licks his chapped ones, a smile already brightening his expression. 

“Good, right?” He’s even speaking English, a habit that had just started to become second-nature. 

You take a ginger sip. Your lips curl inwards and your nose twitches for an infinitesimal moment. But he catches the quick flash of disgust if only in the drop of his heart. 

“It’s bitter.” You admit as if you were confessing a sin. Your eyes flicker over Yoongi and he can see the sympathetic regret in them. He bites his tongue, forcing his expression to remain neutral and reveal nothing of his disappointment.

“It’s an americano. They’re meant to be bitter.” He explains as if it will change your mind. But you are pushing the drink back to his side. 

It shouldn’t matter, a simple cup of coffee, but it does more than Yoongi would like to admit. 

He didn’t expect you to like coffee just because he treated it as serious a hobby as his mixtapes. All those nights browsing the internet in a side tab when the beats stopped flowing from his fingertips didn’t matter. Neither did the half-hour morning bus commute scrolling through Pinterest. Yoongi was never meant to make Pinterest boards designated to specified blends of coffee anyways. It was just a time-killer. 

I do it because I’m bored. His fingers hook through the handle and pull the cup back in front of him. What did it say of him if he obsessed over coffee like the last measures of a rap verse? What did it say of his personality if the most bitter, blackest liquid tasted sweetest to him, but not to you? He wasn’t into those personality tests - like that one girl, in his economics class last semester, who tried to force him to take one. But was there something to be said of your coffee preferences? You only drink coffee when he offers the first sip of his own. Your usual tea is faithfully waiting by your elbow, ready to replace the hours of decision-making he spent the night before. Maybe he should give up. Stop trying to force you to like something you so obviously dislike. A part of him you dislike. So where does that leave himself?

“It’s just fucking coffee.” He mutters beneath his breath. 

“Hmm?” Yoongi’s cheeks heat as your eyes flash with concern. He hates that you’re studying him as if waiting for him to break down and cry like a kid. 

“You’re just weak.” He says instead, louder, and lifts the mug to his lips to take a big gulp. His brow furrows. Maybe the drink was off. His tongue runs over his teeth, collecting the aftertaste for assurance. Maybe it was brewed too strong. Or burnt. Yeah, americanos were bitter, but not this bitter. Right? 

The connoisseur in him lashes out, knowing there was not a damn thing wrong with Yoongi’s coffee.

“Am not!” You huff. “You drink that, your taste buds dead.” 

He snorts, setting the mug down on the table. 

“And don’t you dare say another word in Korean, Yoongi. This is supposed to be English time.” You warn as he opens his mouth to do just that. 

He presses his lips into a smirk and takes another sip of coffee, holding your gaze.

“Strong coffee. Weak woman.”

You scoff, but the smile playing under your attempted scowl betrays your amusement. His own statement backfires as his heart skips a beat seeing you try to hold back a laugh to spite him. 

No, she’s not his type either. She drinks green tea and that leaf juice is definitely more bitter than coffee. 

“Can I have a piece of gum at least? The taste is still in my mouth.” You swallow a few times, trying to clean your palette.

“Are you sure you can you handle it?” Yoongi replies in his native tongue just to earn another glare. He’s rewarded with another rebellious heart flip. 

She thinks americanos are disgusting. We’re too different.

“Gum. Do you have it.” You reiterate drawing him back from a downward spiral of pity. 

Yoongi sighs as if you’ve asked him to rearrange the stars in the sky. Which he would absolutely do. But search the chaos of his bag? That was the true exhausting task.

Slumping to his side, he tugs open his backpack and digs through its cavern before coming up with a crushed paper box. 

Peeling back the lid, he discovers one measly piece left. Pathetic he might be, but he can’t help smiling as he plucks it out and holds it up between his forefinger and thumb.

“You have to earn this.” He says. Your eyes widen, lips parting. He thinks you’re about to compliment how well he’s pronounced his words but instead, you narrow your eyes at the last moment. 

“Try me.” 

Damn. Yoongi falters, eyes darting over the collage of books and worksheets spread between the two of you. 

He drops the piece of gum on the table and reaches into your space to grab your Beginner’s Hangeul Handwriting book. 

“If I can read one page of this, you can have it.” 

“English, Yoongi.” You warn again as you nod to his proposition.

“I read. You fail. No gum.” He flips pass the individual character practice and splays his fingers over the most recent page. There’s a paragraph in Korean of what the words should look like. This he ignores in lieu of deciphering your handwriting scrawled over the provided lines below it. 

After just five words he looks up at you again. 

“Your English hand words more bad than mine.” 

“Your verbal English sucks worse than mine.” You shoot back. Yoongi raises an eyebrow at your tone. You hold his gaze until his eyes drop back to the book. 

His brow furrows, then he squints, holding the book further away and mumbling the words. He must admit, you have the scrawl of a kid, but it is legible. Eventually. Your characters are wide, unevenly spaced, and some lines are flying away from their pairs. It was as he said. Your English might as well have been the written form of an abstract painting. 

Even if your handwriting was mediocre, a step between terrible and acceptable, Yoongi could not help himself when it came to pissing you off.

“You take my notes in English, okay? Mine better.” He teases. You roll your eyes for what must have been the fifth time. Yoongi was going for at least ten. 

“Your notes are not wor-”

“Korean.” The word comes from his throat in a resonating base.

You stare at him so long he starts to think you may have gone catatonic. 

“You’re n-notes not good for s-study. You wr-write three word a-all.” Your cheeks flush and even if Yoongi couldn’t already tell, the stutter shows your embarrassment. He corrects you quietly, in a softer tone, before responding. 

This was the established custom between the two of you if the sentence strayed more than five words from the grammatical rules. Despite the petty argument, you’re mouthing the correction to your memory as Yoongi hands you the book back. 

“My notes...are...small...mammalistic.” Your outburst of laughter gives him a heart attack. One, for it’s loud volume disrupting the peace of the cafe. Two, for how it electrifies every nerve in his body. 

“Minimalistic?” You smirk and he hates how he loves it.

“Min...m-mal…” He rolls his eyes in defeat. 

“My notes are minimalistic. I only write what’s needed.” Humming, you begin to pack up your things and Yoongi takes the cue to do the same. 

“You only need ten words to remember the professor’s hour and a half lecture?” The jab is quickly returned with his own sharp wit.

“Genius.” Yoongi shrugs, winking when you meet his shit-eating grin. 

“Gum. Now genius.” You hold your palm out, grinning almost as widely as he is. 

Yoongi stands, sliding his packed bag over his shoulder. 

“Careful. Mint is bitter.” He tosses the piece of gum at you and sprints to the bus stop before you can kick him in the shin. And he thinks as he comes huffing the short distance to the glass sheltered bench, if being so bitter brings about this much laughter between you two, perhaps it wasn’t so bad and maybe opposites can attract. 

They must, the way you’re grinning as you approach him, despite the way he abandoned you in the cafe.

“You want one?” You uncurl your fingers and hold out a caramel candy to him. Yoongi’s fingertips brush over your palm as he accepts it and deftly unwraps the candy before popping it in his mouth. 

“Why?” He lifts an eyebrow at your beaming expression. His jaw works overtime to break down the hard caramel, drawing a look of concentration over his features. 

“In return for the gum.” You click your tongue at him, the flash of white wrapped around your pink tongue a contrast that does not go unnoticed. 

An intrusive desire, among the many he gets around you, breaks through his resolve. 

Does she taste like peppermint? What if I kiss her right now and take back that piece of gum? 

Before he can contemplate the question any further, his teeth snap the caramel in half and a horrible sensation of sour blooms in his mouth. 

“Fuck! Shit, what the fuck?” He spits the caramel candy on the pavement to the tune of your unabashed laughter. He spits twice and wipes his palm over his lips. The split caramel has a sickly yellow liquid leaking out of it’s center. 

Yoongi glances up at you and if he wasn’t so horrified at what was just in his mouth, he would have time to admire your eyes shut tight, squished cheeks, and exposed teeth cracking up at his confusion. 

“Why?!” He shouts, disregarding the older couple walking by. The older man glances between you and him with a frown.

“They-They’re from Halloween! My friend from my singing class gave me them.” You wipe your eyes, finally revealing them to Yoongi who barely has time to respond before you see his painful pout and burst into a new round of joy.

“What the hell are they?” The bitter after-taste sits on his tongue. It’s so strong he doesn’t even want to swallow. Is this how americano tasted to you? 

Americanos taste like sweet nectar compared to this ungodly taste in my mouth right now.

Was Yoongi still bitter about the coffee? Yes. But now he’s even more frustrated at how you’re still giggling at him like the cat who swallowed the canary. And looking cute as fuck doing it. 

“Hey.” He snatches your water bottle which just so happens to be dangling from your other hand and flicks the top open with his thumb.

“Yoongi!” You try to reach for your bottle, but he turns his shoulder, causing your palm to slide over his back instead. He shivers, hoping the wind picking up is enough of an excuse should you notice. 

Swallowing an extra gulp than necessary, Yoongi pulls back with an exhale and licks his lips. 

“You’re a bad girl.” He mutters. 

“Y-Yoongi, chill. It’s just a joke.” You roll your eyes, accepting your water back with shaky fingers. 

“Cold?” Yoongi asks as your fingers tremble accepting the water back. 

“No. No, I’m fine. Here comes the bus anyways.” You say, hoisting your bag up and turning to the approaching bus. Yoongi studies the back of your head at this angle. He shoves his hands in his pockets. You’re oddly silent. Did he seriously offend you by taking the water bottle? 

He tilts on to one foot, trying to catch the side of your face. Imperceptibly you turn further away. 

Yoongi chews on his lip. I didn’t mean to seriously piss her off. 

The bus rolls up, releasing a long, drawn out squeak of the breaks and hiss as the engine slows. 

“Y-you’re not really bad girl.” Yoongi offers in hopes of earning your attention again. 

“I know.” You send him a wink that steals any further response of his.

Silently, he gestures for you to get on first with an awkward nod of his head. You grace him with an even brighter smile, trudging past him. 

With one last look at the auburn sky above, he almost debates walking back to campus. Surely the winter air is good for the heart. Moreso than your quick smiles and lavender shampoo enticing him to stay near your presence.

“Yoongi, c’mon! The backseat is open!” You exclaim hitting the top of the stairs. The look of pure joy on your face does him in completely. 

“Grab it. Hurry.” He mutters, fighting the smile on his own lips, and races up the stairs behind you. 

November 12th

You were the sweetest person Yoongi had ever encountered in America. Every day he regretted the way he had cast judgement on the students around him because they had done the same to him. If it weren’t for you, Yoongi might not have ever learned how to socialize with his classmates - which was essential for group projects with pass or fail grades. It was more than school work Yoongi exposed himself too, however. Agreeing to Hoseok’s pleas to attend spirit weeks and home games was the miracle Hoseok never thought he’d see. The first time Yoongi said yes to going to a party with Hoseok, the dancer nearly choked on his can of Sprite. Hoseok was so thankful the next day that he found you on campus and bought you lunch.

Ever since you had mercifully forgiven him for his unnecessary comments, you had only continued to show the cold-shouldered boy patience. In the beginning, your sessions were rough. Yoongi knew more than he could communicate and hated practicing any words aloud. But you coaxed him out of his educational shell by mispronouncing a dozen Korean words yourself. 

Before he knew it, Yoongi was earnestly studying English any chance he could get in order to surprise you with his newfound knowledge. If it wasn’t your weekly Thursday study sessions on language, it was the conversations that took place beforehand. Not overwhelming him with rules and facts about your native land but gently guiding him when he got confused. Answering a dozen questions and nodding in agreement at the absurdities he found. Your laughter was a welcome sound to his ears, and your eyes were his reassurance when he was lost. 

Those same eyes were hidden from him now as he watched you with the most lovestruck expression a boy like him could conjure. 

You fell asleep. On your textbooks. In the cafe.

The patrons’ lively conversations around you had not been enough to keep you awake, nor the unspoken rule of taking naps in cafes. Not even the responsibility of being Yoongi’s tutor had kept your eyes open. After a measly ten minutes of chit chat you swore you were going to rest your eyes and promptly buried your face into the crook of your elbow. But Yoongi could study even when his English teacher fell asleep. He would rather you get your rest because heaven knows you escaped it each night. 

Although he was no better, yawning as he turns the page in his journal. A glance outside told him there was about fifteen minutes left. Yoongi would give you more if he could, but it would be a long walk back to campus in the night if you two didn’t make the bus. 

With a stretch that cracks a few inches of spine, Yoongi heaves a sigh and slams the textbook cover shut. He rolls his neck and clenches his fingers into fists. As he starts to put away his things and think about how he’s going to wake you up, his eyes catch the book you had used as a makeshift pillow. 

Is that Intro to Music Theory? Yoongi scans your sleeping form. Your shoulders heave in a steady, deep rhythm and your hair has been sitting on your nose for the past minute but you remain fast asleep. 

Judging the right way to go about this, Yoongi decides to do it the magician’s way. As gentle as the wind, he uses his left hand to ease your head up while his right snatches the book. Letting your head settle on the table, Yoongi holds his breath. 

You shift, whining slightly but remain asleep.  He sets the book on top of his and flicks open to the correct chapter. Picking up his pen, Yoongi sets up to do the entire assignment again. Every now and then his eyes flicker over your sleeping form, a smile lifting the edges of his lips.

 “What time is it?” Your groggy voice scares him out of his wits. 

“It’s 5:52.” He says, breathless, and drops his pen with finality.

You sit up slowly, eyes red, cheeks swollen and the indent of your sweater pressed into the left side of your face. Hair sticks to your chapped lips completing your picture of fatigue. But you couldn’t be any more adorable in Yoongi’s own weary eyes.

“Don’t worry. Bus is late.” Yoongi mutters, closing your book and sliding it back across to you. He tucks his hands under the table and massages the cramps out of his wrist. He finished in the nick of time, dotting the last period as you gave a huge yawn to signal the end of your nap. 

“Oh.” You yawn for the third time, your eyes processing slowly the image in front of you. 

Yoongi smirks, reaching over to flick your forehead. “Wake up.” 

You wince under his fingertips wrinkling your nose at him. 

“Stop.” You groan. “I am awake. You should have woken me up sooner.” 

“Drink some coffee.” He says in lieu of an excuse. There was no way he would confess you likened to an angel while you slept, your face free of stress and forehead clear of tension. Even if you did snort once or twice, Yoongi found it endearing that you trusted him enough to fall asleep in public.

“Gross.” You roll your eyes with a sleepy smile and a few strands of hair fall between your eyes. You brush them away with the back of your hand and run your finger over the table in front of you. 

Frowning you meet Yoongi’s eyes, “Why did you have my textbook?” 

Yoongi shrugs, fighting an awkward smile and looking anywhere but at your face. “I was bored.” 

“You did my homework?!” You raise your voice, causing Yoongi to glare and hush you with an index pressed to his pouting lips. 

“I need the extra practice anyways,” Yoongi says, fighting his blush with a grimace - as if that made a difference in his pink cheeks, “since my tutor fell asleep.” 

“It’s your fault for not waking me up. I told you ten mintues...not...an hour!” You mutter as you check the time on your phone. Releasing a sigh you lock the device and toss it on the table. 

“Thank you, Yoongi.” You say sincerity written in your expression. His blush deepens under your gaze.

“It’s not a big deal.” 

“It is though. You have a ton of your own homework you should be doing. I don’t want you to fail a class because of me.” The look of worry on your face twinges his heart.

“I’m not gonna fail any classes. And even if I did, college doesn’t make or break you.” 

You scoff, crossing your arms on the table and leaning over them.

 “Oh really? Then why fly across the world to come to an American college in particular?”

Yoongi draws his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes skirting the table. You laugh, deep and raspy with sleep. The sound entices his heart to thud harder, sending a renewed blush to his cheeks.

“Even s-still!” He shoots back, fighting said blush on his face and the thought of earning another laugh from you. “Grades aren’t everything and if I fail I’ll find another way to become a producer.”

“How are your classes going, by the way?” You tilt your head, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Are you able to write a lot of music for your assignments?” 

Sucking in through his teeth, Yoongi shakes his head. “Not really. But I write plenty on my own.” 

“Do you have a soundcloud account where I could check it out?” 

“You want to listen to my music?” The surprise is apparent in the English words earning him a look of offense.

“Of course I do, Yoongi!” 

With a twinkle in his eye, Yoongi leans across the table to meet you halfway. He tosses his head to flick the blond streaks from his eyes and levels his gaze with yours. 

“Hm. Let me listen to yours.”

“No way. You do not want to subject yourself to that.” You wince.

“Show me yours, I show you mine.” Yoongi points between you two while saying the English phrase.

Blushing, you shake your head vehemently. 

“No. Never. My voice isn’t worth listening to.” 

“What?” Yoongi blinks thinking he misheard your native tongue. “Are you kidding me?” 

“You’re one of the top students in your Vocal Ensemble class. Every music student talks about your voice. And you had to audition to get into this school in the first place. There’s no way you’re working as hard as you are for your voice to be like anyone else's.”

“You understand what they’re saying?” You ask in a soft voice to the passion spilling from Yoongi’s lips.

“Yes, and they love your voice!” Yoongi exclaims. 

“Someone’s improving in their English.” You mutter, cheeks heated, eyes lowered. 

“I know your name.” Yoongi says waiting for your gaze to meet his. 

When it does he hopes you only see sincerity in his eyes.

“C’mon. It’s time to go.” You whisper and all but shove your things into your bag. Yoongi follows behind you out the cafe just as the bus reaches its stop. 

Climbing the stairs after you he follows blindly to the usual spot you two sit each day, third row from the back. You take the window seat and Yoongi claims the aisle spot, insisting that he needed the room for his legs but knowing full well he liked being the center of your attention. 

As soon as Yoongi collapses into his seat, the fatigue of the day, as well as the extra strain of two English assignments weighs on him. Leaning forward with a guttural moan he rests his forehead against the seat in front of him. 

“Are you alright?” Your hand slips onto his shoulder with concern. Imperceptibly, he shivers. 

“M’tired.” He whispers. 

“C’mere.” Turning to look at you through his bangs, Yoongi’s eyes widen to find you tilting your head towards yourself.

“Lay on my shoulder so you don’t get a crick in your neck.” Yoongi wanted to ask what a ‘crick’ was but he could assume you didn’t want him sleeping on his neck the wrong way and earning a cramp for it. 

“Are you sure?” Still the thought of leaning on you was so intimate to him that he finds his fatigue melting away into nervousness. 

“Of course, Yoongi, it’s not a big deal.” That’s all you have to say on the matter, pulling your headphones from your backpack and sliding out your phone. If Yoongi wasn’t as tired as he was, he would have fought the idea. But the greater side of him, the side that craved every ounce of contact you gave him, won. 

Slowly and still waiting for you to cringe away or slap him, he slumps in his seat and rests his head on your shoulder. You lift your shoulder to meet his temple signaling him to rest his full weight on you. Still, Yoongi remains tense as he closes his eyes, working his jaw and wondering how in the world he would manage this bus ride. 

After a minute of contemplation, sleep falls upon him like dusk into night, erasing any further doubt from his mind.

November 19th

Cafe closed. Go to this one?

Your texting might just be cuter than your mouth actually forming the words. With your voice echoing in his head, Yoongi taps the message bar and sends back an affirmation. Then he taps on the location you’ve sent which is a block in the opposite direction from the route you two usually take from campus. 

Choosing to walk in the winter air rather than take the bus, he slips his coat on, coming back from the bedroom into the kitchen where he had been writing for his latest assignment. He grabs his textbook off the dining room table and slides it into his backpack. 

The shower head turns off in the other room and accompanying the sound of wet, padding feet, Hoseok emerges in a towel barely doing it’s job, soaking head to toe. One hand is scrubbing a toothbrush around his mouth and the other is opening a cabinet for a snack. Which is a little paradoxical if you ask Yoongi.

“Wh’re y’ goi’g?” Hoseok mumbles. 

Yoongi zips up his bag and stares at the trail of water Hoseok has left behind him. One of the first conversations he had with his roommate, Yoongi distinctly remembers, was Hoseok dictating the rules of cleanliness they would keep in their shared space. Now, only three months later, Hoseok hardly bothers with a towel as pools of water trace his way around the kitchen. 

“Coffee shop. To study.” Yoongi offers a noncommittal wave and hikes the bag onto his shoulder. A thousand-watt smile lights up Hoseok’s face. He rips the toothbrush out and drops it on the counter.

“With Y/N? To study English? How’s that going by the way?” 

“It’s going.” Yoongi answers, tugging on the heel of his sneaker. He turns away from Hoseok, hoping the exhortation of bending over counts enough for the heat on his cheeks. 

“Ah,” Hoseok releases a guttural sigh, “I’m so glad you found someone y’know?” 

What does he mean by ‘found someone’? 

The sound of a chip bag ripping open and a groan of satisfaction gives Yoongi an excuse to change the topic. 

“Are those my fuckin’ Cheetos?” Standing up straight, Yoongi narrows his eyes at his roommate who’s running his tongue over his lips, not an ounce of shame in his eyes.

“Oh?” A look of surprise crosses Hoseok’s face. He turns the bag around to face him. 

“Fucking Cheetos? I don’t think so. These are just Cheetos.” Sparkling with amusement, Hoseok levels his gaze with Yoongi’s fiery eyes. 

“Your ass is lucky I have to go, but you should sleep with one eye open tonight, Jung Hoseok.” Yoongi mutters, finger pointing at him threateningly. 

Hoseok smacks his bare chest, leaving orange dust over his freshly washed skin. “Me? Sleep? I would never.” 

Yoongi huffs, choosing to walk away before he’s late, throwing over his shoulder, “Whatever, Ho.”

“Stop calling me that!” Hoseok calls after him. Yoongi opens the door. 

“Stop eating my shit!” 

“I don’t eat your-” Yoongi slams the door shut, effectively ending the conversation with a smile on his face.

___

The moment Yoongi swings open the door of this new cafe, the pungent smell of pumpkin floods his nose. Like a punch in the face, the atmosphere is laden with heavy cinnamon and pumpkin spices provided by candles on high shelves and no doubt aided by the steady out pour of pumpkin spice lattes. 

The decorations are just as hard a blow to his eyesight. Strings of paper pumpkins are strewn across the ceiling from wall to wall creating a garish, obnoxiously orange spider web. Little men and women dressed in black hats and cut from paper are splattered on the glass walls along with what Yoongi assumes are turkeys. Every table either has a small plastic cornucopia or one of those paper ovals cut to open like an accordion. The entire scene is likened to a kid’s birthday bash of oranges, reds and yellows in various objects. 

Trying to conceal his gag reflex - the pumpkin is really strong - Yoongi shuffles in surveying the room for a spot to study. It’s fairly larger than his cafe and so is the late afternoon crowd filling out the space. 

There’s one table among all the scenery blending into one another - a small circular piece that Yoongi can see from here is slanted. It’s shoved into the corner as if in punishment from the rest of the functioning tables. But, it’s the only one available, so he walks towards it and claims one chair with his backpack. Per usual, he is the first one to arrive. 

After setting up his English materials he pulls out his journal to rest on top of the textbook and flips open to where he left off. 

This cafe is fuckin’ loud. Yoongi notes with distaste. There’s a TV hooked in the corner of the room and a group of rowdy college football fans cheering in victory. Despite their clear disregard for social niceties, they are not the only main distraction and therefore no one is telling them to respect the peace. 

A short distance behind where the group is gathered on couches are a crowding of tables and here sits a chattering group of women in their mid-to-late thirties having some kind of tea party that requires obnoxious laughter every five minutes. 

Yoongi pauses the note he was carving into the paper, glancing across the room at the way one woman continues to slam her mug on the table in the most un-ladylike way. It’s not that he has a problem with women being loud, it’s just what he knew from tea parties...weren’t they supposed to be quiet? 

His attention is drawn from the boisterous women and the rowdy fans to the third section, to his left, where most of the average patrons sit. Among the normal chatter and clinking of glassware, Yoongi catches one couple sharing enough kisses to qualify as a make-out session. Swallowing back his disgust he quickly drops his stare back to his page, his eyes scanning for where he left off. 

It feels like ten more painful minutes drag on before you collapse into the seat across from him, panting with flushed cheeks. Yoongi is ready to scold you as he finishes off the last measure but as his eyes catch the beam on your face and the excited glimmer in your eyes, he finds his mouth hanging open in silence. 

“Hey! Isn’t this place amazing!” You exclaim, those wide shimmering eyes of yours looking all around you at the decorations. Yoongi bites his first response into the bottom of his lip, not wanting to risk your wrath for immediately shooting you down.

“It’s...popular.” Are the words he finally settles with. 

“Why are you late this time?” 

“Oh sorry, I was helping Taehyung and Jimin - they’re from my Vocal Ensemble class - work on their upcoming solos.” You explain all this while setting up your things, tossing your book haphazardly onto the already unstable top. Yoongi grips its edges, hoping the weight of two textbooks won’t topple the entire thing over. 

But if the table breaks, we can always go somewhere else to study… Yoongi reasons. The cafe is bustling at full capacity. There was no way you could find another table in time before one of the standing patrons snatched it away. 

“Jimin was actually the one who recommended this place.” You say, finally settling down with a friendly smile shot his way. “I’m so glad he did! I love how they decorated for the season.” 

So are you tutoring the entire Korean community now? 

Yoongi pushes the spiteful thought away, knowing you were just a sweetheart who loved helping anyone, regardless of their English abilities. Then again, he also knew Taehyung and Jimin. They were the top singers in both their ranges and had done solos on repeated occasions. So there was no way your guidance to them should have taken over half an hour thereby cutting into his time with you. 

“Ready to begin? Tell me what you see around you in English.” You say, moving on to the lesson without allowing him to respond. 

Yoongi blinks, catching up in reality from his jealous thoughts and gazes around the cafe. The place had so many colors going on it was hard to pick out any one item. However the most eye-catching decoration was the birds on the windows which puzzled Yoongi. 

“Birds.” He starts out, leaning back in his chair and gazing at one near his shoulder. You nod encouragingly. 

“Turkeys, yes.” 

“Tur-keys.” Yoongi tests out the word before frowning. 

“Turkeys are birds for the season?” 

“Hm? Yeah, for Thanksgiving.” You say while you scribble down notes. 

“Why?” 

“Why? I don’t know. It’s just what we eat on Thanksgiving.” 

“Sanks-Than-ski-bing.” Yoong grits his teeth trying to focus on the words forming in his mouth correctly. 

“Thanks.” You offer, nodding for him to repeat after you. “Give-ing. Thanksgiving.” 

“Thanksgiving. What is it?” Asking that question was the most native English Yoongi sounded. 

“Wait...You don’t know what Thanksgiving is?” You question, your eyebrows raising in disbelief. Before Yoongi can answer the obvious you smack your forehead, taking him off guard. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Don’t answer that! Of course you don’t know about Thanksgiving.” You say at the same time as Yoongi leans forward, almost touching your pink forehead before he catches himself. 

“Thanksgiving is an American holiday where families come together and remember what we’re thankful for.” You explain as Yoongi nods.

 He rests his elbows on the table, leaning on his folded hands. “A holiday for thankfulness?” He asks. 

“Mmhm. But you knew this already because we’re going on break next week.” 

The resounding silence at your table rivals that of the cacophony around you. 

“Yoongi...we’re going on break next week.” You say slowly. Yoongi breaths in through his nostrils, cracking his stony facade with a twitch of his eyebrow.

“We’re going on break.” 

“Yes. We are.”

“Shit.” Yoongi groans, sliding his palms over his face. 

“What? What’s the matter?” You ask, leaning over to grasp his forearm. Yoongi whips his head up, your fingers like fire dancing over his skin. He doesn’t move a muscle, hoping to keep your ginger touch there as long as possible. 

“I’m in the middle of my project. Why do we have to take unnecessary breaks? Just to say thank you? Can’t we do that after school hours? I’m thankful I’m in college working my ass off. Why are they taking it away from me?” Yoongi gushes in a heated rush. 

You frown processing the rushed Korean slower until you burst into giggles. 

“Yoongi! Don’t be bitter.” You smack his arm lightly. He hides his blush against his hands and peers at you between his knuckles. 

“Thanksgiving is important too. We have to learn to stop every now and then to rest. Plus, you have an excuse to eat like a pig.” 

“Pig? Me?” 

“No, not you, you! I mean everyone. Even me.” You say before rolling your eyes with a chuckle. “Especially me.” 

Yoongi quirks his eyebrow at you. “You? No way.” 

“Hey. Shut up.” You shake your head, but Yoongi follows your bashful smile with his own teasing one. “But no, you should come home with me to my family’s Thanksgiving. My mom makes insane mashed potatoes.” 

“Hmm.” Yoongi pretends to debate it for the sake of not looking like the desperate fool he is, following you off a cliff if you asked him to.

“I’ll go. Show me your Thanksgiving.” 

“Great! I’ll text my parents right now and let them know you’re coming. My mom and dad will be so excited to meet you.” 

Mom? Dad? It wasn’t as if he was your boyfriend or anything but if Yoongi didn’t pass as just a friend, there was no chance in hell your father would ever let him be more. 

Looks like I did agree to jump off that cliff.

Shit.

[frangipanidownunder]

Falling: fic

A/N This was written for the @just-fic-already workshop on love and romance, using this rubric. I chose a motel, a dog and the line ‘the forest isn’t the only place where ancient flora and fauna reside’. I couldn’t decide on sickfic, friends to lovers or first time, so it’s a little bit of all three! Tagging @monikafilefan and @ofmulder at their request.

It also responds to prompt 10 of the @xfficchallenges ‘come here Mulder, let me look at that’.

The motel looks like it was built out of dirt and animal hide.  She takes a long hard look at the front of it and then back at Mulder, who at least has the grace to look as disgusted as she does. The Dog Basket Inn – you’re always welcome to rest your bones here.

              “Sorry,” he says quietly and opens the door. “I know it’s not exactly the Hilton…”

              “It’s okay, you didn’t know we were going to end up…it’s only one night.”

              “We’ve survived far worse,” he says, but his shoulders round and he kicks at a pebble on the footpath, sending it skittering into the car tyre. “We keep surviving, don’t we?”

              The room is even more pitiful than the outside suggested. Grimy, ripped carpet, tawdry furniture, drapes with mould growing on the lining. She drops it back and a flurry of dust motes burst into the fluorescent light. “The forest isn’t the only place where ancient flora and fauna reside,” she says and he cracks his face into a half-smile and she feels her heart squeeze a little.

He’s had a rough day. Insulted and humiliated by the law enforcement team. Laughed at by the locals. Roughed up by a stray dog as they chased, and caught the perp, who turned out to be a teenage boy in a Sasquatch costume.

“Let me look at those bites again, Mulder.”

“They’re not bites, they’re just grazes. It was only being friendly.”

“It was a giant hound and it dragged you down like a wolf with a sheep. I think you need to take a shower and I’ll find some antiseptic lotion in my kit.”

“There are all sorts of ways of showing friendliness, Scully.” He looks at the door to the bathroom. It’s almost hanging off its hinges.

“Dogs wag their tails, lick you…”

“Sniff your butt,” he adds. “I know, all I’m saying is that there are lots of ways to measure friendship. That dog was all bark and no bite. Sometimes it’s actions not words that are telling.”

“Okay,” she says, pressing her hand to his forehead. He shifts slightly, closer. She blinks away the sad look in his eyes. “No fever, but you should take it easy. Go shower.”

              The bathroom is as gross as the rest of the room, with questionable green-grey slime festering in the corners. When he comes out, wet-haired and softer at the edges, she can see the scrapes down his back and shoulders. “Come here, Mulder, let me look at that. Oh, they must sting.”

              “They will after you’re done with me, Doctor Scary.”

              She dabs at him and he hisses every time she touches his skin. “Let’s hope you don’t turn into a werewolf, Mulder.”

              He mock-howls and bares his teeth. “If I were to transform into an animal tonight, I think a cockroach would be the wiser choice.”

              Laughing, she sinks down on the bed next to him. “Is the shower worth the risk to my health?”

              He holds his breath. Her cure came at a price. A piece of his soul. He’ll never forget or forgive himself, she knows that much. They’ve navigated a long and twisted path to reconciliation, after Antarctica, after Diana, after Padgett. Their friendship is deeply-rooted but there are fronds unfurling inside her that point to more. The question of what to do about it remains between them with each lingering look, each unnecessary hand to the lower back, each night in a motel with nothing but walls between them. They are closer than most friends should ever be.

              “You’ll have to use this, because it’s the only one,” he says, looking down at the rumpled greying towel covering his modesty. “And you do realise we’ll be sharing the bed too? Are you okay with that, Scully?”

              “I’m a big girl.”

              “Then don’t hog the blankets. It’s going to get cold.” He stands up and grabs a pair of jogging bottoms and a fresh shirt from his bag.

              “Friends don’t hog blankets, Mulder.”

When she comes out, he’s rustled up some beer, corn chips, a packet of Oreos and a video. “Movie night,” he says, grinning and taking the top off the Shiner Bock. “Maybe this is a sign we can turn this day around.”

              “The Fox and the Hound? Really, Mulder?”

              “Seemed apropos.” He settles next to her, back against the headboard. Their legs brush and he glances at her quickly. She sips her beer and tucks the chips between their hips.

              It’s not long before she’s cold and slips herself under the covers. He looks a little disappointed. She pats the top. “Come on then.”

              He grins, lifts the covers, and stretches his long legs under. “What you said earlier, Scully, about being friends?”

              On the small television screen, Tod is practising his lines to approach Vixey and they both end up talking over each other.

              “Yeah?”

              “Is…is that really what we are?”

              There’s a splash from the set and Tod is up to his neck in water trying to catch fish.

              “We are, Mulder. We’re friends.” Inside her, the words and feelings she’s kept down for so long are pushing up. It’s so hard for her, this sharing of emotion, declarations. He told her in the hallway those years before what she meant to him, he saved her life in a selfless act of heroism; and then he…His foot taps hers, a kiss of toes. She twists her face towards him.

His brow is crinkled and his mouth is glistening with beer. “Is that all we are?”

Vixey is laughing at Tod and he’s sulking.

“Do you…are you asking me if…we could be more?”

His foot tugs at hers so that their calves are hooked together. Despite the less than savoury surroundings, she feels so suddenly at ease, like they’ve been intertwined forever, and in some ways they have. His hand slips over hers and he rubs the tip of her thumb, as though he’s looking for it to ignite something.

“Is it something you’ve thought about, Scully? Because I’ve been doing a lot of thinking over the past year and you’ve been on my mind a lot. A lot, lot.” He brings their joint hands to his mouth. The cooler air is a shock but the moment his lips press into her knuckles warmth flows through her. “I’ve done some stupid things, some selfish things, and yet you’re still here. By my side. Literally.”

In her periphery, the dog is shielding his fox friend and she thinks about how her and Mulder have always been ferocious in their protection of one another. How they’ve always reacted without hesitation when needed. In the face of adversity and acrimony, they’ve stood strong for each other. Bonded by something without name, without end; a loyalty that exists inside and out.

“I think about it too. I think about you.” She lets him kiss the thin skin on the back of her hand. His face is so close to hers she can smell the beer on his breath, sweet and yeasty. If she leans in just an inch she could taste it, lick it from his lips. “I think we have nowhere else to go from here but forward.”

His lips brush hers and she closes her eyes to truly feel the moment. This is such a small gesture, mouth against mouth for a second, but it is seismic in terms of their momentum. It’s a shift that opens up so much potential. She feels her heart pump and her soul spill open, ready to give, ready to receive. Mulder is her friend, her best friend. It could be a disaster, but right now, in this grotty room, she sees only hope.

“Are we really doing this?” There’s wonder in his voice, awe.

She sniffs out a small laugh. “It looks like it.”

“In the Dog Basket Inn, huh?”

“Could we really expect anything different?”

“I’d like to take you out when we get back. Somewhere more…salubrious than this joint.”

Now she’s smiling. Tracing the contours of his face. “A date, Mulder?”

“With proper food and clean furniture.”

“Sounds fake.”

“I could mark my territory, if that’s more your thing. Shake my fur all over the place. Chew on all the table legs.” His face relaxes into a grin and she kisses him again, this time with more ferocity, more intent. It’s hard to let go, to pull apart. His fingers knead her arms and hers brush his Adam’s apple. Their feet are entangled and the covers are twisting around them.

“Do we take this slow, Mulder? Or jump right in?”

“I feel like if we went any slower, we’d be dancing backwards.”

She lifts a knee up and over his midriff, revelling in the feel of his taut body beneath hers. “Jumping right in,” she whispers and lets herself fall.

[rachetmath]

RWBY: Life Part 5

As the soon was to be sunset, our knight, Jaune, was unconscious after helping Emerald. While we wait for his awakening to come, I wonder how are our other heroes are doing without his presence? Let us see, shall we. As we go back to our protagonists rented home, we see everyone exhausted, searching for their friend, believing Mercury may have led him to a trap. They tried to stay calm but they were furious by knight’s choose of action. But as much they were mad, they still couldn’t help but be worried for Nora who is in team JNRO’s room, in Jaune’s bed, crying. Ren was trying to cheer up as best he can but nothing, not even pancakes can make her happy.

Yang: I can’t believe this.

Weiss: I get he chose to go but… Mercury. Mercury!

Ruby: Look this Jaune we’re talking.

Oscar: Yeah Jaune wouldn’t do anything without a reason behind it.

Yang: Really, just like in Heaven then Argus.

Oscar: Oh, so your uncle and mother gets a pass?

Yang: That’s not point! The point is Jaune just left and didn’t say anything.

Weiss: Yang are you seriously calling the cattle black here. *looks at Blake*

Ruby: Yang this all happened last night.

Blake: We know but-

Ruby: Blake?

Blake: Ruby, remember what I said back at Beacon. About me and Adam and how everything changed for the worse? What if –

Weiss: Don’t finish that sentence.

Everyone shocked to see Weiss on the defensive.

Weiss: Jaune may not be the way he was back at Beacon, none of us are, but I know he will make the right choice. He did back at Heaven, saving my life, and Argus, helping us get to Atlas, looking for Oscar and saving Nora as well as other people.

Ruby: Yeah. Don’t forget he helped me get to Mistral. If it wasn’t him and his team, uncle Qrow and I wouldn’t even be here.

Yang: *sigh* I’m sorry I-I’m just scared, okay, I admit it. It’s just out all of us, he got the worst end of stick. He has more valid reasons to hate us than help us.  

Ruby: Yeah… he does.

The group as they are still gathering their thoughts on the matter, they hear team JNRO’s room door open and closed and Ren to no one’s surprise, coming to check on them.

Ren: Any luck?

RWBYO: No.

Ren: I figured as much.

Ruby: Ren, you never told what happened, why did Jaune leave?

Ren: Mercury asked for his help and Jaune agreed to do it.

Yang: Why didn’t you stop him!?

Ren: Why do think Nora is like this now? She tried. She begged and pleaded for him not to go… but he insisted.

Blake: Wait agreed? Did he make a deal with Mercury?

Ren: Yes, if he agreed to help Mercury then Mercury will do anything Jaune ask of him. That even includes… killing him.

Everyone began to be in disbelief, believing Blake’s explanation to be very well accurate. Ren after trying to reassure himself decided to stand and leave.

Ruby: Where are you going?

Ren: To get some air.

Ren left the house, only to see Maria Calavera seating on the fronts steps, she was too old to go searching for a child, mainly do to one child going missing, so instead of helping with search, she stayed behind and see if Jaune returns and check on Nora from time to time. Ren seats beside her also waiting to see if he comes back.

Maria: You alright?

Ren: No.

Maria: Worried about Nora?

Ren: Primarily yes, but this is… different.

Maria: How so?

Ren: When I was kid, before I lost my parents, my father told me the worst action I can ever do is take no action at all. And when Jaune was about to leave… I didn’t stop him. How could I though, when the moment I looked into his eyes, I knew he couldn’t be reason with. Now, I’m frighten, cause when he comes back, if he comes back, he’ll be forever changed. I guess what I’m asking is what should I do? How can I help?

Maria: You can’t.

Ren: What!?

Maria: All you can do is have faith. Believe in his judgement until he gives you a reason not to.

Ren: And that’s it?

Maria: Yes, and there is no other way.

Ren: But … but why!?

Maria: What you have to understand is that we humans, despite being the same species, have a variety of personalities. We take different paths and we fight for different reasons, even when those said paths a line. Basically, it wouldn’t have matter what you would’ve done, Jaune would’ve left anyways. He’s own person and as for that he makes decision if he feels they may benefit him. So, all you can do is have faith that he’ll make the right choice, even if it may involve killing someone.

Ren: How do I know? How do I know he made the right choice?

Maria: Again, you don’t, you can only see the result and make a choice to still follow him or leave him. Do you understand?

Ren: *sigh* Yes maám. Can I wait here with you? I don’t want to go back inside right now.

Maria: Do what you want, but still, have faith.

Ren: Alright.

Ren along with Miss Calavera, sat and waited to see if Jaune returns, while Nora right now is talking while resting.

Nora: Please. Please come back. Jaune.

Back to Zed’s house. Jaune was beginning to sweat. Jaune was dreaming. I wonder what could be on his mind.

[somuchbetterthanthat]

"Because - one relationship is bound to go wrong, and the other to get better, and I may have written Daisy and Basira working it out here but.... But well. i have thoughts about that ." I would really love to read your thoughts if you want to expand on this! The parallels between Dasira and JonMartin are just too interesting. (Also I agree and am actually more worried about Basira than Martin at the moment.)

Ha. Okay. This may turn long? As literally everybody must have noticed by now, I have a tendency to ramble. But here goes nothing:

The parallels between Daisy/Basira and Jon/Martin ARE so interesting.

First off, Basira and Martin have both been implied to be/said to be the most Important Relationship for Daisy and Jon.

At least for Daisy, it’s explicit: she only agrees to work for Elias because Basira signs the contract, Basira is said to be “her last anchor to humanity”. Basira is the only person Daisy talks about when she’s in the coffin as well, so we can assume that apart from Basira, she doesn’t have anybody else in her life that matters as much as Basira does. And there is, most definitely, a real reciprocity here: Basira says “she’s the best partner I ever have”. Basira loves Daisy. More importantly, she relies on Daisy.

For Jon and Martin, it’s more complicated, more implied, and there is definitely the element of Georgie. Georgie IS important to Jon, and I’d argue she is the one he is closest to (you don’t just protect your ex-boyfriend from uni from the cops and let him stay at your place for months after not having seen him for years just. Like that. That’s fucking deep. And the fact that Jon thought of her first - that’s deep, too.)

But Georgie has explicitely told Jon she couldn’t be part of this, and I don’t see Jon going against that. And so, in a way, Martin de facto becomes once more the person whose Jon is closest to. And I say “once more” because, obviously, I’m never ever going to get over this quote: “People say you two are close” “... closer than the others I guess.” Which! doesn’t mean much when you know Jon, but also means a hell lot when you know Jon, whose closest bond otherwise is his ex-girlfriend from uni he hasn’t seen in years. And again, it IS important to remember that when Georgie said “you need anchors jon” in season 3, a few episodes later this has turned into “I promised Georgie I would speak to Martin.”

And of course, we know that Martin is in love with him, so, there’s that, that’s pretty deep as well (especially since Martin doesn’t seem to have much more connections outside of the institute) (why are all those people so lonely)

ANYWAY. With that in mind, here we go in season 4, and Jon and Daisy are both “monsters”: one trying to deal with the fact that he chose “monsterhood”, and what it means for his humanity as he gains more and more unnatural abilities, the other cut off from “her monsterhood” violently, and having to relearn what it means to be “human” and how to deal with the latent “monsterhood” still poking at her ribs now that she’s out. Both of those people try to connect with the people who had always been there for them before, Martin and Basira; but both Martin and Basira are “busy” and don’t have time to be emotional support anymore.

Now, here are my actual proper thoughts. Under the cut because. well. [THIS IS SO LONG I AM SO SO SO SORRY.  I WROTE A RAMBLY ESSAY. I’m sorry.]

Like I told you in my answer to your lovely comment: Basira and Daisy are starting this with an advantage: they’re partners. They’re equal partners, who’s been relying on each other for years. They know and care for each other, and are aware that the other cares for and knows them in return. IF Daisy (like in my fic) could manage to spot what is wrong with Basira, acknowledges what Basira can and cannot give to her right now, what Basira needs, then I think, genuinely, that they could talk about it and solve (at least) some of the problems between them. Because they’re a familiar team.

Jon and Martin have tried, multiple times, to talk to each other, and failed miserably, generally because of Jon; in season 2 because he couldn’t trust him, in season 3 because he was trying to protect him, and didn’t know how to mend the gap he’d created the season before. They have worked together, as a team, at the end of season 3 - but, the fact is, their relationship still suffers from a severe imbalance: not just “jon is martin’s boss” but really: Jon didn’t like Martin at first, and to everybody’s eyes, I suppose - most importantly martin - Martin cares for Jon way more than Jon cares for him. Which, inevitably, makes Jon reaching out now seem “too late”. And they still have to find their language, really, I think.

So, in all appearances…. It should go like I’ve written it? Daisy and Basira find common ground; they manage to go through this together. Whereas Jon and Martin have missed their chance, and with everything going on now, they’re just going to part more and more.

EXCEPT. No? I really don’t think it’s going to go like that.

Here’s the thing. Jon is unafraid to show his caring anymore. In fact, so scared he’s been of “losing his humanity” he seems adamant and fiercely determined to be soft, to be kind, to look for anchors and connections everywhere he can. He is learning to listen, and he is learning to express himself. He wants to save people, and he has. Sort of. He ‘saved’ Melanie. He definitely saved Daisy. And I am absolutely sure that, one way or another, he’s going to try and save Martin as well. He’s using his powers to be proactive. He was lost last season, terrified, but he said it himself at the beginning of season 4: his mind is clear now. focused. He’s reaching out. Willingly. Time and time again, even when rejected. But he’s also used on doing this on his own.  

Daisy… Admitedly, we haven’t had much of Daisy yet, so I could be wrong, but Daisy is going to have to very much to an introspective work that may not allow her to reach out like Jon does. She is lost, she is scared, and she doesn’t know herself anymore, not entirely. Can she really help Basira the way Basira needs her to in those conditions? And would someone else’s help (like Jon) be enough that she doesn’t need Basira as much anymore? Because, Basira relied on Daisy, but Daisy relied on her even… more. She grew used to it, probably. And – a fact that I remembered not long ago… Daisy was already losing Basira to the Eye, even before the coffin. Daisy asked Basira to come with her on Elias’ missions, and Basira said she couldn’t. And Daisy was rattled by this. Daisy had difficulties being without Basira. What if it turns out that Daisy’s lesson now turns out to learn how to be without Basira?

Now as for Basira - well, Basira is. So, so well-suited for the distant, detached part of the Eye we’ve grown used to with Elias and Gertrude. And I think at this point it’s canon that she looks up to Gertrude, and finds her way to be the most efficient; Basira is practical; she has to. Basira relied on Daisy and herself, and then Daisy was gone, which left her mind. It’s important to say, I think, that she TRIED the emotional connections thing, in season 3? She became friends with Melanie. She invited Martin for drinks as well. But eight months being the one person protecting the institute rationnally, without seemingly nobody else to talk to - well. And I don’t think she’s going to back off from this. Basira wishes she could rely on Daisy, but she doesn’t need Daisy. She could keep moving without her. She did. 

Here’s the thing, really, because I’m just going way way too long about this. Basira and Martin both made a choice to go on a path alone - Martin drastically so, let’s say. They both did this out of necessity, thinking they had no choices. Now Basira has all the cards in hands to change her mind: she’s got Daisy back. Different, but she’s got her. She could work with Jon, she could learn to trust Jon. But is she? Or is she going to keep thinking pratically about this? Logically? Because feeling hurts too much? Basira CARES. She cares a lot. She’s still mindful of people. Only she’s chosing mind over heart, because she tried heart over mind, and it led nowhere. 

Martin though? Martin doesn’t have all the cards in hands yet. He doesn’t know about Jon’s changes, because he hasn’t let Jon show him, one way or another. Martin’s stubborn as hell, but he’s also soft, and he loves Jon, and against the lonely, that’s the best possible thing.

So WHAT I AM TRYING TO SAY (god i’m sorry this is so long i’m sorry) is: 

- It’s not emotions that may sway Basira right now, not yet. It’s rationnality. It’s all she’s got to offer. But Daisy is all emotions right now. Can she meet Basira’s back on the rational train? Because Basira’s “she’s dead weight” comment leads to imply that Basira absolutely cannot go back the emotional way. 

- Jon and Martin though, are BOTH on the emotional wagon. Jon’s new emotional strengh may very well be what they need to actually meet half-way through. 

Hence: both relationships’ stance are going to shift; Jon and Martin have the potential to form a new, stronger bond, where they will meet as equal emotionally. But Basira and Daisy are at risk of seeing their relationship grow extremely unbalanced, with Daisy needing Basira much more than Basira needs her. 

Also, from a pure storytelling point of view: Martin’s role has always been important. He’s grown significally over last season, and his building relationship with Jon (platonic or romantic however you want to see it) has been ‘a red string’ leading the emotional journey of both character since day 1. But Jon and him HAVEN’T YET reached their Peak Equal Partnership, and I think it’s bound to happen. 

Basira is also growing to be Jon’s rational mirror, and I think so far the show has not, like - let’s say the most rational, logical people are not the ones who end up “in the right” from like, the story’s point of view. Gertrude died; Sasha, who was the most rational of the original team, died first. Tim, who at the end applauded Gertrude’s ways and cut his ties to any of the other characters emotionally, died as well. 

In my opinion —- Daisy and Basira’s relationship is not going to end well. For now, I think that: either Daisy will die trying to help Jon, or she’ll die trying to help Basira, trying to prove to her she can still help. OR, worst(?), she’ll go back to the Hunt for Basira. Because that’s what Basira needs, and Daisy needs her. 

In any case, no matter how much I love and adore Daisy with my whole heart right now, this podcast is not made for nice things, and i’m really not sure she’s going to survive the season. (and now i had the terrible thought of her dying just as they get Martin back) (proving to jon that emotions work, proving to basira that rationality is the only thing that makes you keep going).

[oldfashionedswiftcurse]

Like Pieces into Place

Hi hi hi,

I’m working on a new fanfic that takes place near the London countryside with Taylor and Joe (during/post-Calvin, Tom Hiddleston doesn’t exist in this lol). Please let me know if you have questions, comments, feedback, etc. Enjoy!

The lush greens and reds greeted her and her Range Rover as they barreled over the rocky driveway to her cabin. She certainly wasn’t in Nashville anymore. She wasn’t even in America. Taylor had left behind the populated city life for some time away. Although Tree had mentioned that the private cabin was located right on the outskirts of London, she hadn’t specified the immense distance between Taylor and her neighbors. Other than the beautiful ranch they passed earlier, there was little sign of life, and while it would definitely allow her to concentrate fully on her next album, it gave her little to do otherwise.

           “Tree, when you said private, I didn’t actually expect a murder cabin. Just to be clear, should I call 911 during an emergency or just accept that I will most likely be slaughtered by a serial killer?”

           “Taylor, no one is going to kill you. It’s both cute and rustic, and you did reiterate how much you wanted your privacy,” Tree echoed, and Taylor admitted defeat.

           “You’re right. I guess, if a daily phone call with Adam and utter loneliness for the other twenty three hours of the day is the path I chose, I’ll just have to deal with it.”

           “Atta girl,” Tree beckoned, rustling with her phone in the background. “By the way, you can take a break with the dramatics. The Maxes will be joining you every morning for this next week, so I think you’ll manage just fine. It’ll be a great new album.”

           Taylor chuckled, hanging up the phone. As she parked the car and carried her bags inside, she basked in the refreshing feeling of doing something alone. It had been so long since she had carried her own bag or driven herself that she was glad to be doing basic chores. After unpacking slowly and memorizing the basic layout of the cabin, Taylor changed into a gray sweatshirt and leggings and walked through the seemingly endless forest. As the wind began to blow her blonde curls into her eyes, Taylor opted to cover herself with her hood as a shield.

           It was the perfect temperature, just cool enough for the wind to leave some goosebumps on her arm, but warm enough for her breath not to leave a trace in the air around her. Taylor would describe it as the perfect level of balminess. As she continued onward, Taylor spotted the same ranch from earlier. There were distant cries of laughter, and she was relieved that she was vacationing (if that was even the right word for it) near a family. Families always made her feel warm inside, and in this particular moment, she thought back to her own childhood farm as she picked pumpkins while her brother, Austin, ran through the fields.

           The ranch was massive, but still maintained a distinctly homely quality to it. The farm area was attached to a large white Victorian home equipped with a wraparound porch and a porch swing. It was the kind of home you grew old in, accepting the peaceful transition from a bustling city to a quiet town. She wondered what Christmases were like in that house and whether or not the children shared the same memories that she did from her childhood.

           “Lucky, come back! Dad’s going to have a fit, and I won’t be able to go to the festival this weekend!”

           The sound was very distant, but as Taylor watched a tiny Australian Shepherd waddle right past her, she knew that the voice would be linked to a young child. The cherubic, blonde child appeared before her, armed with a doughnut and a long leash, and frantically raced after her dog.

           “Here, let me help,” Taylor muttered, chasing after the dog and scooping it easily into her arms as the girl clicked the leash into place. “This little guy’s got a lot of power in him, huh?”

           The girl eagerly nodded, and as Taylor placed the dog onto the ground, the girl managed to take a bite of her very pink, very frosted doughnut.

           “Thank you, Miss. If we hadn’t caught him in time, he’d be gone forever, and Dad would never let me get another pet! This is Lucky, and I’m Madilyn. We live just down the path there,” she said, extending a hand to Taylor and then deciding against it due to her frosted fingers. “Are you living out in that cabin? Dad said it was about time we got a new neighbor.”

           “I am. Hi, my name’s Taylor,” she said gleefully, sliding her hood down. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Madilyn. And you too, Lucky, rebellious as you may be.”

           And as Taylor smiled at the excited puppy, Madilyn’s jaw dropped.

           “You’re…this can’t be real. Maybe I hit a boulder and fell off a cliff or something because…well, I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you before, but you look an awful lot like…”

           “Taylor Swift?” The pop sensation teased, but as Maddie’s cheeks grew pink with embarrassment or awe or a series of different emotions, Taylor couldn’t help herself. “That would be me.”

           She shrugged, and Maddie looked on in amazement.

           “Do you mind?” Maddie glanced inquisitively, reaching for her phone.

           Taylor acquiesced immediately, smiling brightly for the selfie. Her smile was authentic, unblemished by the city facades and too-bright paparazzi lights.

           “If you don’t mind me asking,” the girl interrupted politely, “what are you doing…here? My friend from school, Elizabeth, never wants to play here, and her mom’s only in banking. I can’t imagine an actual pop legend wanting to spend time around here when you could be surrounded by crowds and cameras!”

           “First of all, your friend, Elizabeth, doesn’t seem like she gave this place much of a try.  You should never have to convince or beg people to spend time with you in your home, especially if you have a puppy as cute as Lucky. Second of all, the fame and attention…it can be too much too often. It’s nice to distance yourself sometimes, which is exactly why I’m here in this wonderful setting as you so quaintly put it,” Taylor responded, and the girl’s wide, green eyes looked back in great doubt.

           “I’m only eight,” the girl replied succinctly, and Taylor wondered why she even tried. “I’m not sure I can quaintly put anything.”

           At that age, friendships still carried the appearance of continuity, and of course a girl just about to enter tweenhood was still tricked by the allure of fame. It was a disillusioning realization one could only come to after spending years and years in the spotlight.

           “MADDIE! MADILYN?!” A deep voice bellowed, and Maddie instantly glanced backward and then back to Taylor.

           “Is it okay if I invite some friends over tomorrow to meet you? They would die if they knew you were here!” The girl uttered, reaching once more for her phone.

           When she noticed the huge glops of frosting made by her fingers during the selfie, she hesitated and wiped her fingers on her bright red leggings.

           “I’d actually appreciate it if you kept my presence here a secret, Maddie,” Taylor muttered, and the girl’s head shot back in resignation.

           “Are you kidding? This could change my life!”

           “I’d be pretty upset if one of my friends broke my trust like that, Madilyn. I hope we can be friends.”

           Maddie’s shoulders fell in defeat, but she smiled back.

           “Tell you what, I won’t tell anyone about you if you don’t tell my dad that I almost lost Lucky. I really want Lucky to have a brother or sister, and both Dad and Granny Lu always vote me down, and it’d be a tremendous help…”

           At that moment, her sentence was cut short by the appearance of a broad-shouldered, blonde man.

           “Madilyn, how many times have I told you not to stray too far from the ranch? I knew getting a dog was a bad idea, but somehow, I let you convince me anyway.”

           He froze when he spotted the two blondes before him.

           “There you are! Madilyn Alwyn, when I say that dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes, I don’t mean that we’ll wait for the princess’ grand arrival whenever she feels like stepping into the kitchen.”

           He glanced over at Taylor quizzically, then back to his daughter.

           “Now, I expect to see Lucky all washed up and you sitting at the dinner table in approximately ten minutes,” he said unflinchingly, and the blonde child shrugged apologetically at Taylor and then raced away with Lucky in tow.

           “I apologize to you if she kept you. I’m Joe, Joe Alwyn, I own the ranch just down there. And that was Maddie. She’s eight, and while I’m glad she can finally walk without a diaper or a stroller, I must confess it has proven to be a struggle to find her anywhere,” he said breathily, and the rapid inhale-exhale pattern of his chest acknowledged that he had been pretty frantic in his search for his daughter.

           “Taylor. It’s nice to meet you. She’s really a pleasure, and she does have a way with people,” she teased, extending her hand.

           Joe reciprocated the action, and the sleeve of his dark blue flannel brushed against her hand when their hands locked together.

           “She didn’t try to sell you anything, did she? I’d check your pockets too for valuables. I’d say she ranges from savvy saleswoman to common grifter depending on the day.”

           Taylor chuckled before noticing that their hands had not separated. They both glanced down, returning their respective hands back to the side of their bodies.

           “She did not try to sell me anything, I promise. She did say something about a huge blowout party tomorrow though, something about unicorns and carnival rides,” she teased.

           He rolled his blue eyes, chuckling himself. His ice-blue eyes crinkled when he laughed, a habit Taylor wondered whether or not he was aware of.

           “She got it from her mum, I swear,” he said, his bright gaze growing slightly grim. “So how long are you planning to stay around here?”

           “A few weeks, at least. I’m a musician, and I’m planning to write a bit of music while here,” she said, gesturing to the copse of trees surrounding them.

           “If you ever need someone to play a saxophone,” he whispered, gauging from her wide eyes that this plan would never come to fruition, “I’m always available. I was a pretty skilled sax player in my day.”

           “I will definitely take you up on that offer if I find myself in need of a…saxophone,” she joked, slipping her hands in her pockets. “It was nice to meet you, Joe Alwyn.”

           “You won’t be taking me up on that offer, I assume,” Joe said, scratching the back of his neck goodheartedly. “I may have slightly over exaggerated my saxophone playing abilities.

           Taylor shook her head, smiling at the ground.

           “But if you keep Lucky around, I will make every effort to see him. That Maddie is pretty special too.”

           Joe grinned back at her, and they separated with a quick wave. Taylor made her way back to her cabin just in time for her to respond to a few texts from close family and friends. She spotted a quick text from Adam and checked her hair quickly to make sure she was prepared for their scheduled Facetime call. One glance at the text, and Taylor knew it was bad news.

           Sry babe, didn’t register the time change between Sydney and London. we’ll figure this out. xxx adam

           She exhaled in defeat, throwing her hair into a loose ponytail. Tonight, she would soak in a long, hot bath and squeeze in some writing time. There were many ideas swirling around her head, and as she slipped into a restful sleep in the bath, her mind kept thinking of ways to incorporate a saxophone into her next album.

[razorblade180]

Frozen Blood:See you around

Jacquelyn:*shaking Adam* Hey, you might want to get up.

Adam:*groans* is something wrong with the airship?

Jacquelyn:No, actually it’s landed. Just thought you might want to say your goodbyes to your.....friends.

Adam:*getting up* Not exactly the word I use. *walks to the hangar door.*

*Blake and Yang right outside*

Adam:*one the ramp* Looks like our team up is officially over.

Blake:Looks like it.

Yang:.......

Jacquelyn:Uh *bows* thank you both for helping rescuing me. Also for from keeping this walking project from getting himself ki- OW!

Adam:*flicking her forehead* What she said. You didn’t have to but, you did.

Blake:No....no problem. *scratching her ear* I’m not sure we would’ve done well alone either. Right Yang?

Yang:*arms crossed* I don’t know. We probably would’ve been just fine without his help.

Blake:Ya-

Adam:You’re probably right.

*everyone looks at him in shock*

Adam:*avoiding eye contact* Whenever push comes to shove you always seem to find more strength. You’re strong....

Jacquelyn:*smiles*

Yang:Well....of course. You should know better than anyone I’ll pull out all the stops when Blake needs help. *head turned*

Adam:I’d hope so. She’s you’re partner after all.

Blake:*gasp*

Yang:*whips head back around * Wha....

Adam:*walking back to the airship*

Yang:*tsk* HEY! Don’t think for a moment this changes anything! This little adventure doesn’t make us even or buddies.

Adam:Wouldn’t dream of it.

Yang:You better stay on your toes. If we see you again and you’re causing trouble, you better believe I’m stopping you again.

Adam:*stops walking* You know....I don’t think I I know your full name.

.........

Yang:It’s Yang Xiao Long.

Adam: Well then, Yang Xiao Long *looks at her*

Blake:.....

Yang:......

Jacquelyn:......

Adam:*smirks* See you around.

Yang:Hmph, let’s go Blake. *walking away*

Blake:*staring at Adam* Yeah...... *starts walking away*

Adam:Stay sharp out there.

Blake:.....Roger that. *continues walking*

Jacquelyn:I’ll be sure to keep him out of any real trouble!

*airship takes off*

Yang:Geez that guy really pisses me off. I can’t believe he was your mentor Bla-

Blake:*tearing up*

Yang:Hey, are you okay!?

Blake:I’m fine *wipes eyes* it’s just, I never thought I’d see the day I looked at him and felt calm again. *chuckling* I know it sounds stupid.

Yang:No it doesn’t. I....I actually get it. As much as I hate to say it, there is something different now.

Blake:*looks at the airship* He’s gonna be fine. I just know it.

[Airship]

Adam:*sigh* that was awk-

*Jacquelyn kissing him*

Jacquelyn:Sorry! It’s just I wanted to do that when you first rescued me but we were in a rush, your ex has been around, and I didn’t know if I co-*gets kissed*

Adam:*goes back to his seat* You ramble when you’re anxious.

Jacquelyn:*red* For the record, we are not a thing and don’t read too much into what I just did. It just felt appropriate.

Adam:*rolls eyes* Like you sleeping with me in woods*

Jacquelyn:*Flustered* Yes! It was completely situational.

Adam:Some people call it destiny.

Jacquelyn:Destiny? That implies everything in my life has been apart of someone else’s design. It’s foolish to believe in destiny. Fate however.... that’s a different story.

Adam:You think they’re different?

Jacquelyn:I see Destiny as someone telling a grand story that can’t be rewritten. People who believe in Destiny are bound for tragedy if they think this world has given them a specific calling. Fate isn’t as cut and dry. It’s the world creating opportunities for certain people to cross paths. It’s up to them however to choose what to do with it.

Adam:So you finding me in the river?

Jacquelyn:Fate giving you the option to keep going. You could’ve said no to my offer. I could’ve given up on you after you attacked me but I chose not to.

Adam:I guess I can see what you mean.

Jacquelyn:To believe in destiny is to believe you never had a real choice. I refuse to believe I was destined to have my hands crushed and abandoned. As if I’d accept that. Now then, where to?

Adam:Your choice, hehehe.

Jacquelyn:Very funny wise guy. Let’s see, how about....*points to a map*

Adam:*sigh* really?

Jacquelyn:It’s perfect for hiding

Adam:Fine, let’s go. *types coordinates*

Jacquelyn:Yes! I knew I got a good feeling about sticking with you.

Adam:Hmph, I could say the same thing.