#and this led her to frequently refusing to talk to me for months on end bc of some slight she thought i made against her

[emiliosandozsequence]

g-d reading the secret diary of laura palmer was such a trip. i related so much. like even donna reminded me specifically of this exfriend of mine. they were basically the same person. also donna and laura's relationship reminded me of me and hers so much.

[charliehoennam]

hero's homestead

A/N: just a lil blurb I've had stuck on my mind and had to frigging get out since watching Road House

Pairing: Elwood Dalton x f!reader

Warnings: physical injuries, jealousy, kissing, mentions of grief and death

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

Growing up in Glass Key made your face quite familiar around these parts. Everyone knew you, not because you were popular or from a rich family. Lord knows you wish you were.

But because the island was just so small, like a little fishbowl with too many sharks circling around their prey, everyone knew each other around here. However, the small island was full of a strong sense of community.

Your friendship with Charlie started while you were in high school. You were just a freshman and Charlie was six when Stephen and his wife would very often ask you to baby-sit.

Saying no to them was nearly impossible. Not only did they pay you well, but they always offered you a ride home and made you sure you had dinner before leaving. They really treated you like you were part of the family and helping one another in the community was just so normal.

They always treated you with welcoming kindness and respect so, if there was anything you could do to help them, you did it. Aside from baby-sitting Charlie, this included working at their book store.

You were around there most of the time. If you weren't at home or at school, you were at Glass Books.

As you got older, you started to spend less and less time there in order to focus on your own personal and professional life.

That didn't mean you were never around anymore. You still made your frequent stop to buy the new read of the week.

"Why don't you just get all the books you want for the month, so you don't have to keep coming back?" Charlie questioned genuinely curious.

"Nah, I like coming here. I like the service. And besides, you'd miss me too much, kid" you chuckled watching the young teenage ring your book up at the register.

When Stephen told you about his wife's illness, it really took you by surprise. She could've easily been voted the happiest woman of Glass Key. The aura she possessed could make the dullest room become the brightest. Her sense of humor would have even the most no-nonsense person cracking a smile. She was an amazing woman and a motherly figure to most.

The entire community mourned her loss. The blue sky and the tropical environment wasn't enough to brighten the day for your neighborhood's residents. The heavy rains that followed that entire week led you to believe that even the island was weeping for her absence.

Between medical expenses, funeral costs and a growing teenager, Stephen had to learn to be a single father quite fast. And that meant working a full-time job to make end's meet.

He asked you to help out with the store and you happily agreed. Glass Books was his wife's dream. She loved spending her days there, in the cozy little bookstore she'd built with the love of her life.

Although you know Stephen has a lot on his plate, you can't help but wonder if he wants to avoid the store and her memory altogether.

You refused to accept money for it, knowing the shop didn't make so much money. Even so, Stephen would still transfer you a small amount whenever he could and would often bring you breakfast, lunch or dinner because he felt it was the least he could do.

All you wanted to do was help.

He was more than grateful, especially when he saw how you could make Charlie laugh by putting on music and dancing in the middle of the store with her.

He could see her slipping into a dark place after the death of her mother. Dealing with his own pain, he did his best. But, you were the best friend she needed. A feminine figure she could go to talk about more embarrassing situations or just to get her mind off of the loss.

Gradually, it seemed like their small family was beginning to heal. Although the loss was a still a fresh wound, and Stephen would often find Charlie clutching a small portrait of her mother asleep in bed, they were managing to keep the pain at bay.

You understand how important this store to them. It represents so much more than being just a simple local book store. It represents her.

The store was just as special to you as it was to Charlie and Stephen.

It had always been your refuge, but now, it was always the place where you met him.

Charlie, with her overly friendly nature that she inherited from her mother, struck up a conversation with the then stranger just outside the bookstore.

Her overprotective father was soon outside within seconds. Although the friendly streak ran deep within him too, he knew these parts were full of men with bad intentions.

Once he realized the stranger wasn't from around, he felt a little more at ease.

Although you remained inside the shop, you could overhear their conversation as you inched towards the door and opened it to stand in the doorway, eyeing the stranger with caution.

Stephen was surprised to know he'd come out of town to work at the Road House. To be honest, neither of you expected him to last very long. At that place, security never does.

The bouncer turnover never ceased with the riots that broke out there almost every night. So, you didn't bother getting your hopes up.

However, Dalton kept coming back. Every other day, he came in with the excuse of using the computer or buying a book just to strike up a conversation with you and lay down his flirtatious charm.

Charlie was the first to notice he would always come around when you were there and, if you weren't, he'd always make sure to ask when you were.

She had quite a bit of fun poking fun at you, telling you he had a crush on you or mocking the unconscious change in your voice you had when talking to him.

It didn't long take for feelings to develop between you and him. There was no doubt in either of you. Although unspoken, the magnetic attraction was undeniably present.

Some of those talks were deep and you felt you could confide in him to share things you hadn't shared with anyone at all. He, in turn, told you about the night on the train tracks and how the last fight he had in the ring haunted him every night.

There was no denying the bond you were forming. However, the rumors that were spreading around the island about the closeness between Ellie and him made you hesitant to make the first move.

When you casually brought it up into conversation, he shook his head and told you it wasn't anything serious and that she'd took him on a date once. You wanted to ask him if he had feelings for her, but that would be too much.

"So what's the deal with you and Dalton?" Charlie curiously asked, having picked up on the constant courtship that you two refused to act on.

"There is no deal. We're just friends. Hardly that."

"I may be young, but I'm no fool. I know there's something going on between you two."

"Sorry to disappoint you, kid, but there isn't. Besides, I hear he's got a sort of a girlfriend" you replied without looking up at her from the book in your hand.

You were both sat in fold-out beach chairs placed in front of the store, enjoying a couple of white cherry slushies, hoping the ice cold drink could soothe the hot, humid weather.

"How do you have a 'sort of girlfriend'? Either she is or isn't."

"Those things are complicated. I guess they're getting to know each other," you shrugged wishing you could avoid the topic.

"Like you guys are?"

"There is nothing going on. Sure, he's cute and funny and all, but he's seeing someone else. He's not interested in me, Charlie."

"So, you are interested in him?"

"It doesn't matter if I am. She's a doctor, she's smart and she's really pretty and drives a nice car. I know I don't stand a chance, so I'd rather not get my hopes up," you rambled, failing to read anything on the page you were stuck on. "Can we please drop this now?"

"Oh my god," she smirked staring at you. "You're jealous."

You scoffed at her ridiculous accusation and shook your head as you closed the book and set it in your lap.

"I am not jealous. I do not get jealous."

"Yes, you are! You totally are!"

"I am not! I just don't want to talk about this anymore, alright? So can we drop it?"

"Alright, alright. Sorry I brought it up."

She couldn't stop smiling as you opened your book to continue reading. Although you weren't her parents, her mind couldn't stop thinking of a way to parent-trap you into getting together.

However, her plans were brought to a halt when Brandt's lackeys invaded the shop just a few days later.

You tried your best to stand your ground and defend the shop along with Stephen. He told you to leave, but you refused.

After the beatdown you both received unwillingly, a fire had been set and the cruel men left. The adrenaline that surged through your bodies was enough to numb the pain in order to get you both quickly back on your feet to put out the fire.

Between the blood loss and the resurfacing pain, the billowing smoke got stronger and stronger. The flames became too strong too quickly and had engulfed the entire wall across the front counter.

Light-headed and dizzy, Stephen tried to save whatever he could from the store. As you rushed back and forth, you realized that the fire had grown too much and swallowed the front entrance.

The heat of it shattered the glass windows. The open air only fueled the fire more. Coughing from the heavy smoke, both you and Stephen got down on the floor to avoid the unbreathable air and attempted to crawl to the back exit.

Everything went dark after that and melded into one huge blur.

You don't remember when you actually blacked out, but you do remember feeling relieved once you heard the fire department's arrival.

The time you spent in the hospital was short - only a couple of days - but it was enough to make you reflect on your life.

An overwhelming sense of regret washed over you as you thought about Dalton.

You'd only known each other for a few weeks, but what if you could've had something special? What if Charlie's jokes were true and he actually ended up to be your soulmate?

She could be wrong too, but the fact that you could've died and never found out if you ever really did stand a chance ate at your mind.

You hadn't fully realized the extent of your attachment until a couple days later.

You show up at the store with a limp from the beatdown you'd received a couple days ago.

Stephan tries to assure you they're fine, that you need to rest and recover, but you argue that you'll go insane if you stay at home with nothing to do, high on pain meds.

Helping the owners clean and salvage whatever they can, Charlie casually mentions that Dalton and left her and her father a suitcase full of money to rebuild the store before he got on a greyhound bus destined to leave Glass Key.

The same regret you'd felt in the hospital strikes you again and secretly consumes you.

You try to play it off and instruct her to not to tell anyone about the money. You barely understand what she said after that. All you can think about for the rest of that morning is that he left and didn't even say goodbye.

When Charlie and her father invite you to get some lunch with them, you politely refuse, opting to stay back and keep yourself busy. You lie and tell them you had a big breakfast beforehand just so they won't worry.

You promised you wouldn't get your hopes up. You knew better than that. Bouncers never last at the Road House. You know this just as well as any of the other residents of Glass Key.

He's gone now.

You just want to be alone for a bit to process it.

The door opens and the bell above it rings as you sweep away at the shattered glass, forcing you to look back over your shoulder.

The sight you see has you frozen in surprise.

His face is impossible to forget. You could never forget those big blue doe eyes, even with the dark skin that circles his right eye.

You groan lightly at the shooting pain from your broken rib as you straighten and turn to face him, holding the broom by your side as you stand next to it.

Dalton closes the glassless door behind him as he greets you with a silent but friendly smile until the cut on your lip and the black eye remind him of the damage he caused.

He doesn't look too different from you. His eye is still a little swollen but mostly black now, his lip busted and the stitches on his eyebrow are all evidence that business has been handled at the Road House.

"So, the Glass Key hero returns" you smile at him, ignoring the sting on your bottom lip. "Charlie said you were riding off into the sunset. You forget something?"

"I'm not a hero and, no, I didn't" he starts, looking around the burned down shop trying to swallow his guilt.

"Changed your mind?"

"Someone kinda changed it for me, actually. A very wise person told me that heroes don't always have to ride off into the sunset. They can stay and make a homestead instead."

Joy bursts within you like fireworks on new years. You try to fight back the smile that creeps onto you lips.

"Thought you weren't a hero."

"I'm not."

You nod biting the inside of your cheek to mask your excitement. You take the second broom that Charlie had been using earlier and left leaning against the wall by the front door.

"This homestead could use a hand" you smile and offer him the broom.

He takes it with a happy grin, feeling finally accepted as if he finally found somewhere he belongs.

"There's, uh, one more thing" he says in a soft voice.

His hand raises to your chin, tilting your head up as he cranes his neck to kiss you in the most tender of ways.

Unable to forget about Ellie, you place a hand on his chest and gently push to stop the kiss.

Dalton's face contorts with confusion. He doesn't notice the breath he's holding, anxiety settling in as he fears that you'll ask him to stop. Maybe he got the wrong signals and you don't like him that way. He'd respect it, if that's the case, but it doesn't mean his heart won't be crushed.

"I thought you were seeing Ellie?"

He blinks slightly surprised. That's not what he had expected to hear, but it makes him kind of happy that you're not asking him to stop.

"She took me on a date and we kissed, but that was it."

"So, you are dating her?"

"What, are you jealous?"

"Why does everyone keep saying that? I'm not jealous."

"You sound a little jealous" he smirks.

"I'm not. I just... I don't wanna get my hopes up."

"I'm not dating her," he says gently stroking your bruised cheek. "I told her there's someone else for me, someone that I really wanna date."

He gazes into your eyes as you smile up at him and let him continue his kiss. You let his lips linger on yours and smile when you feel them stretch into a grin.

The cuts on your mouths hurt, but neither of you bother to pull away.

His kiss gradually intensifies. His tongue flicks over your bottom lip, politely asking for entrance. His free hand reaches for your waist as the other sets against your cheek, leaving the broom tucked in his arm.

You let his tongue slip past your defenses. The gentle way his hand cradles your face has you holding onto his strong forearm and the other broom for balance as the room spins around you from his vertiginous kiss.

Your chest presses against his as you moan softly into his mouth. It takes him every ounce of his self-control to not pin you against the wall.

The bell rings again, alerting you both of another's presence so you quickly pull apart, trying to quickly compose yourselves. Your eyes shoot to the door along with Dalton's.

You realize who it is, so he shyly lets his eyes wander around what's left of the store and sweeps the ashy floor.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Charlie smirks sipping her juice from a straw as she stands in the doorway.

"No, no," you reply nervously as heat pools in your cheeks. "Dalton and I were just, uh, cleaning up."

"Cleaning what? The floor or each other's throats?"

Dalton snickers at her candor, glancing at you until she continues.

"Good to see you're back though. And if you ask me, it's about time."

[barrenclan]

I think overarching plot is relatively easy to come up with, but how do you come up with smaller more filler-like events for your stories, like the plum-bee spats and corm training with egret? I’m having some trouble filling in the flesh of my own story, and was wondering if you had any insight.

Oh boy, real softball questions! Haha, but I can try to give you an answer for these.

I think the best way I can explain the first question is how I wrote PATFW, since it was much more heavily structured than my other comic (and more recent).

So, I started with the premise, the characters, and the general arcs I wanted each of them to go through. The premise helped me to establish the guidelines of this world, what kind of tone I would have for the story - moody and mysterious, so I knew that comedy would not be as frequent and characters might often take a turn towards more realistic drama.

The arcs of each character came with understanding what I wanted to do with them - do I want this person to get better, or get worse? Will they be a force of antagonism, or a side character, will they live or die? What point am I trying to get across with this character? Those kind of questions helped me know how they would interact with each other as well, so for instance a character like Daffodilpaw being friendly and cheerful, with her arc, would interact a specific way with dramatic and egotistical Beeface, for her arc. (Sorry I can't be more specific, but the comic's not done yet.)

Once you have a strong understanding these things - tone and characters - it's not too hard to let the story percolate in your mind. There's nothing wrong with just letting ideas float around in the back of your brain, instead of trying to force them all out right away. I actually wrote the ending of PATFW a couple months after I had started the comic, because the characters naturally led me to that conclusion. Here's an example of what I'm talking about with tone and characters leading to a small interaction that I hadn't previously planned like you asked about:

I have Rainhaze, and Ranger. Rainhaze is kind and brave, but currently very lost. Ranger is sadistic and enjoys feeling in control. So, I need a plot reason for Ranger to have not found BarrenClan. Well, Rainhaze being self-sacrificial, told him that BarrenClan all died and he's the last survivor. When Ranger finds out, it makes him feel tricked - he doesn't like that, so he threatens to kill Rainhaze. Rainhaze is self-sacrificial, as previously mentioned, and is now showing some suicidal tendencies, so he doesn't care if Ranger kills him. But Ranger then refuses to do so, having regained control, and twists the knife by letting him live while feeling suicidal. That's a pretty grim scene, which fits with the tone of the story well.

There you go - that's an interaction I hadn't plotted out the story with, but I was able to come to naturally by understanding the characters, the way their arcs are moving, and the tone of the story.

For this question, it's a little more tricky. The sad, honest answer is that there is no reliable way to do this. That's kind of how the Internet works. Unless you pay money to advertise, I suppose, you can't push a button that says "popularity points" and have it spit out readers. And sadly, sometimes movement only comes after you grind away, day after day, and don't give up. Here's a few things that might help, though.

Use multiple platforms. It's simple, but the more places you post, the more eyes you'll catch. Different websites/apps have different readerbases, too - Webtoons, ComicFury, Instagram, DeviantArt, Tumblr, Hiveworks, and others all have varying levels of attention and algorithims, and work that you have to do to keep up with an audience. Find whatever feels right for you and focus on one or two, but keep the others in your periphery.

Be consistent. People are more likely to actually keep up with a comic that updates every single week, rather than that posts a page or two and then ghosts for a month. Cough, cough, maybe you'll say - but I always set out with this comic to be a side project, and posting asks like this helps me continue to engage with an audience even when I'm not completing issues.

DON'T CARE! I know that seems like counterproductive advice, but seriously; you have to be okay with the fact that you might not get any attention. If you make a comic with the set goal of being popular, or even just worry about having readers, you're going to make yourself miserable. Obviously having attention is more fun, and more motivating, I won't deny that. But you need to be just as happy making a comic for 3 people than 3000 to make something you're proud of and not burn out in the process. If you're making something earnest, fun, interesting, passionate - people will come eventually.

[room-archive]

By now, some of you might have heard about the situation in Poland. The following text was posted on FB by a Polish friend of mine following the events of 07. August 2020 in Warsaw. It describes what happened, and the context of what led to the events of yesterday. Please reblog and share this post to spread awareness about the current situation.

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

For a very long time it has not been easy for me to write and talk about my country. Publicly, for a very long time I haven't. Disagreeing with most of what the current government stands for, that would have become a full-time job. Feeling that one is powerless, one can easily become indifferent and either emigrate abroad or immigrate inside to the bubble of like minded friends, trying to just go on with life regardless, to wait out the storm, to hope for the world to change one day on its own. I am guilty of doing both. But yesterday, I believe that Poland came to its turning point. We went to sleep in a troubled democracy and woke up in an authoritarian country that uses the full force of the state apparatus to oppress and unjustly prosecute members and allies of the LGBT+ community.

No good person can stay indifferent facing these circumstance.

General context:

👉 It all began members of the activist collective "Stop Bzdurom" (eng. Stop the Bullshit) spray-painted and cut the tires of an anti-abortion van. This van was taped with graphic images of dead fetuses and frequently driving through the streets of Warsaw. While the activists spray painted the van, the driver intervened and it came to a light physical quarell with pushing and elbowing. This is the video of this altercation: https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=1324521857722944&id=137358556439286

👉 On the basis of that, the Public Prosecution (which is under total political control in Poland - the Minister of Justice IS the Attorney General) decided to press charges of violent assault and destruction of property against one of the members of the collective - Margot. Margot identifies as a non-binary person (it will be important later in the story). Under those charges Margot could face up to 7 years in prison.

👉 Some weeks ago, Margot was dragged out of her apartment by police in civil clothing. At that point, police refused to give any information about her whereabouts or charges. It took many hours to establish that she was taken to the prosecution office for interrogation and to provide her with a lawyer. The prosecution filed for two months of arrest, awaiting trial. The court initially denied prosecution's request and released Margot. At that stage, this story could have ended as yet another, relatively harmless episode in our disfunctional democracy - unjust and infuriating of course, but at the end smoothened out by the somewhat independent parts of our judiciary.

👉 In between that and yesterday, the same collective hanged rainbow flags from monuments in Warsaw. One of those was a statue of Jesus. This was follwed by a wave of arrests under the charges of "desecrating monuments and offending religious feelings". The arrested were charged while our prime minister and president were visiting desecrated monuments and placing commemorative flowers.

And then yesterday happened:

👉 The prosecution appealed the court's denial to put Margot under arrest. Another court, for reasons still unclear, reversed the decision and decided to put Margot in jail for two months before any trial. There could not possibly be any reason to make such a decision legitimate. Margot is a special case because Polish arrest and correctional facilities are an extremely dangerous place for a (visibly) queer person like her.

👉 When Margot learned of the decision, she happened to be in the office of the biggest Polish LGBTQ+ NGO - Kampania Przeciw Homofobii (eng. The Campaign Against Homophobia). With the police on the way to arrest her (quite symbolic, isn't it), a few NGO’s asked people to gather in front of the office in a demonstration of solidarity. A few hundred people and plenty of journalists showed up, including multiple members of parliament from left and center opposition parties.

👉Margot decided that if she has to go, she won't just go quietly but as publicly as she can. She walked through the demonstration up to the police officers, offering herself to be taken away. They refused to arrest her. We thought they got scared of the public support and the cameras. It looks like we couldn't have been more wrong.

👉 The spontaneous demonstration moved to a nearby allegedly desecrated monument. There, peacful demonstrators were met by an excessively large police force seperating them from the monuments. And then someone has given an order to make an example out of demonstrators and turn the arrest into a show of power.

👉 First, an unmarked car approached. A bunch of police officers in civil clothing dragged Margot inside. For all that has happened later the crowd remained non-violent.

👉 Then, demonstrators sat down around the car to prevent it from leaving. (see Photo) The police attacked with an unprecedented brutality. Tens of undercover police officers arrived and together with their colleagues in uniforms they begun brutally attacking, beating, suffocating and throwing the demonstrators into police cars driving away with them. All that during broad daylight, in front of TV cameras. Without any shame or hesitation. Multiple photos of police brutality bellow. All questions about the basis of the detention were met with laughter. The protestors were not even called upon to disperse. Just faced with violence for the sake of power - no law, no order. TV cameras have caught police officers giving eachother orders to arrest "three random people from the crowd". Bystanders and people passing by were also arrested.

Yesterday in Warsaw is was enough to be in a wrong place, wrong time. We witnessed a straight up round up.

👉To paint the picture of the excess of the police brutality in more detail, I'll quickly describe one of the detentions. During that whole time, MPs (Member of Parliament) were present at the site. Now, they hold immunity from being arrested, but I don't believe anyone in Poland ever imagined that this immunity would have to be used in such a way. Among the photos below, there is one of a blonde woman, holding her hand on the back of a demonstrator, who's being pushed to the ground by the police. That women is an opposition MP who left yesterday's protests injured by the police and described in detailes what had happened. She saw police officers throwing the protester in the picture to the ground and kneeing her down. Her head was bleeding on the pavement. The MP run torwards them screaming to let go and pushing the police away. She lied down on the protester to guard her with her own body. Only then the police let the MP to put her purse under the bleading head of the protester (seen photo) and take care of the head-wound. The protester was then taken away by the police to an unknown location. That story is just one among many horrifying stories from yesterday.

👉 Later, noone knew where exactly the detained people were taken. We guess that around 50 people were arrested.

50 political prisoners.

Police has been refusing any information. The demonstration has moved under the main police stations and the second wave of random arrests happen (you can see it on the video: https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=295720058542451&id=107750507339408).

👉Members of parliament and attorneys have been present at the police stations all night trying to get any information and to provide legal help to the detainees. In order to prevent this contact, police has started to move the arrested people out of Warsaw- a tactic straight up from the harshest repressions of the communist times. On one of the photos below you can see two MPs standing in the way of a police van in the middle of the night to prevent that from happening. People were being dragged out of the police stations to the transport vans. They were shielded on the way to the car by other police vehicles to make identification impossible. Few of them managed to scream out their last name. Attorneys were immediately requesting access to their clients, and were met by police officers bluntly lying that such a person was never there.

👉 To paint the picture in more detail, again, of what was happening on the police stations- below you have a photo of a lady reading a piece of paper standing in a window with bars. That's yet another Polish MP, reading a list of the people being held at that particular station to the desperate families searching for their loved ones.

As for today, we are still unsure about what is going to happen.

We know that the arrested people are being presented with bullshit charges, citing ”the participation in an illegal gathering with an aim of violently assaulting a person or a property". Those charges don't stand on any grounds - not only we have photos and videos - the whole peaceful protest was on live TV.

We know that the Polish Ombudsman and the National Mechanism for the Prevention of Torture has started visiting the police stations.

We know that the first international institutions have started to speak out. Example is in the photos below. With the gravity of what is happening, I'd urge for more and sooner.

Poland is not living up to any standards of a free country. Poland is below anything, that should ever be accepted within the European Union. The long-standing aspiration of my country to become a part of the "West" has shifted towards countries like Russia in a matter of a night.

I will fight this, my friends will fight this. We will not let this go gently into silent night.

But I am not sure how much more fight we have in us.

I'll end with asking all of you abroad for support. Let people in your countries hear about this. We in Poland may not be enough.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Flinch

MAIN MASTERLIST

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2,225ish

Summary: You are hiding an abusive relationship from the team.

Warning: abusive relationship (not explicit)

You weren’t an Avenger, but you did work at the Avengers Compound in Upstate New York. You were one of the doctors there. To be honest, you were the Team’s favorite doctor. And that meant that you often spent many late nights at the compound instead of going home to your boyfriend. You treated their training and mission injuries, and even their lab and roughhousing injuries. One time, Tony had even called you to his lab because of a paper cut.

You quickly formed a tight bond with the whole team. Especially those who frequented the med-bay. Bucky, Sam, and Steve were the most reckless of the team, everyone knew that. You more than anyone. And it wasn’t long before the four of you were almost inseparable. Almost, meaning when they weren’t on missions and you weren’t with your boyfriend.

You and your boyfriend, Alan, had been together for four years. Living together for three. He was there cheering you on when you graduated and there to celebrate when you got a job with the Avengers. He was so happy for you. But that was almost a year and a half ago now, and things have changed. As you began to spend more and more time over at the compound, he became needier and needier, slowly turning manipulative and aggressive towards you.

He started beating you six months ago, after he watched Bucky bring you home from drinks with the team. Alan was furious, immediately thinking you were cheating on him with Bucky. You woke up naked in bed, alone. Bruises and marks littered your body. You stayed curled up in bed, not caring about being late to work, until Alan had gone to work himself.

Thankfully, you were a doctor. You patched yourself up, covered up the bruises and marks, and then went to work. At first, you were good at hiding it. But slowly, as the abuse continued, it started to wear you down. The light around you was slowly dimming, and the Team was noticing. Especially Bucky.

Bucky had been physically attracted to you ever since he met you. And the more he got to know you, the more he fell in love with every part of you. He know you were in a relationship, so he made sure he never crossed the line of best friend. Bucky had met your boyfriend a few times, never liking him once. There was just something about him.

Bucky was the first to notice you wearing more long sleeves than usual. He also noticed that you started wearing more makeup than usual and had started avoiding any form of physical touch. He was too scared to mention anything to you first, so he brought it up with the team. Turned out, he wasn’t the only one to notice the shift. They were all pretty sure it was your boyfriend. But when asked about your relationship, you always said good things.

It was a late night, and you were staying at the compound. Mostly because it was your turn to be on call, but also to avoid going home to Alan. You couldn’t sleep, too scared of what your dreams might show. So you were in the common room, sipping a drink while you were curled up in the couch. And that’s where Bucky found you when he came out for a drink.

“Why are you up?” Bucky asked. You jumped, actually scared. “I’m sorry, I should have made myself known.”

“No, it’s okay, Buck,” you responded, clearly still trying to calm yourself. “I just couldn’t sleep. You?”

“Same.” He plopped down at the other end of the couch. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Nothing to talk about.” You gave him a small smile.

“Hm… okay. Wanna watch something?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to head to bed.” You started to head away. “Goodnight—“

“Wait, Y/N.” Bucky’s metal hand reached out to stop you. The swift moment made you flinch away from his touch. Bucky was confused. “Y/N… did you just flinch?” When he met your gaze, your eyes were wide and terrified. He could practically hear your heart beating out of your chest. Slowly, he stood up, hands up to show no harm. “Maybe we should sit down and talk about what’s going on.”

“I… I can’t.” 

You shook your head, rushing away. Bucky quickly stepped in front of you, causing you to start to tremble and step back. Seeing you so frightened, made Bucky’s heart break. He didn’t know the truth, but he had a good guess at who had caused this.

“Y/N, please just tell me what’s going on. The whole team as noticed something. We would like to help.”

“You can’t,” you rasped. Your shoulders were hunched in like you were trying to curling in on yourself. You were now refusing to look at Bucky, taking a few steps back. “Besides, it’s none of your business.”

“It is if someone’s hurting you… if he’s hurting you. Please Y/N.” He started moving slowly forward. “Just let me help you.”

You moved back again. “Bucky, please just drop it. I’m fine.”

He continued forward. “I’m not going to let this go until I find out the truth. I need to know if Alan is hurting you, Y/N. I’ll get the team on it and you know we’ll find out no matter what.”

Your eyes were slowly filling with tears as you continued to step backwards. Eventually you were stopped by the wall. Bucky continued until he was just inches away from you. It was killing him to see you pressed up against the wall, trying to get away from him.

“Please, doll,” Bucky whispered. “What is he doing to you?”

You let out a whimper before sliding down the wall. “I’m so sorry,” you cried. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”

Bucky quickly knelt in front of you. “What are you sorry about, doll?”

“That I didn’t tell anyone. That I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry that I let him do this to me.”

“Woah, hey now. You did not let him do anything. Whatever he did to you was not your fault. None of it.” He reached out and gently took a hold of your hand, as he did your sleeve rode up a little. Giving him a glimpse of a bruise. “Y/N, I’m taking you down to the med-bay.”

“No! Please! I don’t want any of my colleagues to know.”

“You need to be treated.”

“I’ve been treating myself.”

“You still need to be checked out.”

“Take me to Tony’s lab… I’ll let Bruce check me over… I don’t know want all of them staring at me.”

Bucky nodded. “Okay.” 

He led you to the lab, where he helped you get comfortable before going to get Steve, Bruce, Natasha, and Tony. What he didn’t realize was leaving you there alone would be a terrible idea. The second you knew the coast was clear, you left the lab and ran to your car. You couldn’t face your friends, knowing what had happened to you. What you believed you had let happened to you. You needed to get home before they found you or Alan got more mad than he was already, since he had been texting you and leaving voicemails all night.

Bucky explained the situation on their way back to the lab, the others getting angrier and angrier with eat step. They were furious at Alan but also angry at themselves for not stepping in sooner. All walking into the lab, they looked around.

“Where is she?” Steve asked.

“Dr. Y/N as left,” FRIDAY announced.

“She was embarrassed,” Natasha responded. “She was embarrassed that we would all know. So she… oh, no.”

“Oh, no, what Red?” Tony questioned.

“She went home.”

“What?!” A few of them exclaimed.

“How could see just go home?” Bucky asked.

“Those who are being abused often are told that no one else will understand, and they begin to believe it,” Bruce replied. “This is why many people take years to get out of an abusive relationship.”

“We need to go get her before anything else happens.”

~~~

Getting beaten at home was not where you wanted to be. But, to your confused and broken down mind, it was better than telling everyone and being embarrassed. Alan was furious when you got home, to no surprise. He immediately began yelling and taking it out on you. And you let him. Because you deserved it.

You were bleeding and broken, laid out on the couch, when the door was blasted off its hinges. Alan turned around as you heard the familiar sounds of the Iron Man suit and feet enter the room. 

“What the hell are you all doing in my house?!” Alan yelled. “You have no right—“ He was cut off my a metal hand to his jaw. He fell to the floor cupping his jaw.

“No. It’s you who have no right to treat anyone in this way,” Bucky growled.

Steve and Tony grabbed Alan as Bucky turned his attention on you. You were shaking on the couch, tears cascading down your face. He could see old and new bruises as well as scrapes and cuts littered along the skin he could see. He quickly came to your side. You flinched as his arms went under you and he lifted you, but you didn’t fight it. He pressed a kiss to your hair as he carried you out to the van that they’d brought. 

The police were pulling up when you got outside. They let Bucky set you down before getting a statement. Trembling and gripping tightly to Bucky’s hand, you told the police about everything Alan had done to you. Bucky had to try so hard to not growl or march back in and kill Alan. He knew he needed to stay calm and levelheaded for you. 

After the police had asked all their questions and taken Alan into custody, they took you back to the compound for a check up. You were still shaking slightly as Bucky laid you down on a bed in a private med-bay room. Bruce and the nurses were getting everything ready for tests and exams that would need to be done. Bucky went to wait out in the hall when you reached out and clutched onto his arm, digging your finger nails into the flesh.

“Don’t—“ you croaked. “Don’t leave. Please.”

“Never, doll.” He leaned down and kissed your forehead. “I’ll be right here.”

~~~

“She has a few broken ribs, most from previous incidents that she never got treated,” Bruce stated. The team was all outside your med-bay room, getting all the information from Bruce as you slept inside with Bucky watching over you. “We’ve cleaned and bandaged any cuts as well as put some ointment on her to help the bruises.”

“Has she said anything?” Sam asked, worried.

Bruce shook his head. “Not since asking Bucky to stay. But that’s okay and expected. We all need to be patient with her as it will take time for her to heal.”

“I’ve already got her off of work for at least a month,” Tony said. “The movers are on their way with her things and her room here is being cleaned as we speak. She’s family, so she’s welcome to stay as long as she wants.”

“How’s Bucky doing?” Natasha asked.

“He won’t leave her side,” Steve answered. “I’ve brought him food and clothes, but he’s so worried about her.” Steve sighed. “I hope he doesn’t take this all and blame himself for it.”

“Oh, he will,” Tony replied. “I already have, so I know he will.”

“We couldn’t have stopped this,” Sam said.

“But we could have said something sooner. We all noticed she was off. We could have done something about it sooner.”

“We need to focus on Y/N,” Bruce said. “Not our guilt. I’ll keep you updating if anything else happens, but for now we need to let her rest and you all need to stop waiting out here.”

~~~

“Bucky…” you whispered as the man slept in the chair beside you. “Bucky.”

He snapped up, on alert. “What? What is it? Are you okay?”

You let out a small giggle. “You just looked uncomfortable. Why don’t you go to your room to get some rest? I think I’ll be fine.”

“First,” Bucky leaved forward, “that wasn’t convincing at all. Second, you asked me to stay, so I’m staying.”

“Why?” You croaked, tears welling up. 

“Because, doll, I care about you, a great deal. And I don’t like seeing you hurt. So I’m going to be by your side every step of the way and do whatever I can to help you heal.”

“I don’t deserve it.”

“I’m sorry to break it to you, doll, but if anyone doesn’t deserve kindness, it’s me.” He gently grabbed your hand, bringing it up for a kiss. “You deserve the world, Y/N. And I’m going to try and give it to you when you’re ready. Only when you’re ready though. I don’t care how long it takes as long as you’re doing better.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“And that’s okay. You decide where to start and the pace, and I’ll follow.”

“Thank you, Bucky, for saving me.”

“Anytime, doll.”

[ayyyeisa]

Home

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Mikasa Ackerman

Word Count: 9.7k

Content: Modern! AU, fluff, angst, best-friends-to-lovers trope

Content Warnings: PTSD, alludes to alcohol

Summary: Childhood best friends Eren and Mikasa go through a series of ups and downs throughout their life, struggling to realize what exactly their relationship is

Notes: Thank you to everyone who helped edit this piece! I really appreciated all the feedback you gave me <3

Prologue

They’ve always been told that they’ve been friends since the moment they were born, and it was difficult to argue against it because it really did feel like it’s been a lifetime of friendship. There has never been a moment where one isn’t with the other. It had never been just Eren, and it had never been just Mikasa. No matter where they were and when it was, it was always (and always will be) Eren and Mikasa. The girl, Mikasa, even claimed to have known her friend Eren in her life before, and although he'd never admit it in front of anyone but Mikasa (in fear that his older brother would make fun of it), he did too. At 28, their friendship definitely had quite a few ups and downs, but if they learned one thing during their years of being best friends it was that they both wanted one thing more than anything in the world: to be with each other. That was it. It didn’t matter, when, where, with who, or for what reason. Just to be in the presence of one another was enough to make them happy.

27 Years Ago (4 months old)

Eren and Mikasa were born just barely two months apart, so it was no surprise that they wouldn’t even remember meeting as babies. As their parents were good friends, the couples jokingly tried to make their children be friends too, by making sure they saw each other frequently. Mikasa and Eren’s moms held their babies across from one another so they could see each other again. It was the first time they officially met, excluding the time the Ackerman family came to visit Carla when she gave birth to Eren. The moment baby Eren had set his big, forest green eyes onto Mikasa’s brown ones, he had tried to reach out to her, going as far as untangling himself from the red scarf (a gift given at his baby shower, though because of his size, could not be used as an actual scarf yet) that his mom used to swaddle him. Unfortunately, from his lack of motor skills, the little girl was awoken by Eren's hand. Mikasa shrieked, upset that she was pulled from her sleep. Zeke, Eren's senior by ten years, freaked, immediately apologizing to Mikasa's mom about Eren. "I'm so sorry Auntie! I'm sure Eren didn't mean it. Please don't be mad."

The woman just let out a light-hearted laugh. "It's alright Zeke. Look, Mikasa is fine now. Besides, her and Eren seem to be getting along pretty well," she said as she watched the two babies looking at each other, arms flailing like an octopus's legs in an attempt to reach each other. Mikasa had gotten a hold of an end of Eren’s swaddle scarf and was lightly tugging at it, while Eren continued to reach forward until his small hand lightly touched Mikasa’s forehead. They were giggling, almost as if they were keeping a secret.

23 Years Ago (5 years old)

It was their first day of first grade. They had been smart enough to go to school a year early. Yes, they. Mikasa refused to start school without Eren, and he refused to go without Mikasa. They were a team, never leaving each other’s side. The teachers were a bit surprised at first when they refused to sit with different people, but they soon got the message. Many actually found it quite cute. Eren had many girls crushing on him (yes, he was a very cute boy, and eventually grew up to be a handsome man). Although the girls didn’t completely understand their emotions at that age, they refused to believe that the cute boy prefered Mikasa over all of them. This of course was bad for Mikasa since it led her to having enemies from a young age. Even if she didn’t need total protection from them, she still had Eren to help. He was, however, useless when his own fangirls chased him around the playground. Though he always proudly claimed "As if I would even think of hitting a girl,” Mikasa was there to help him out when they chased him.

Not even a week in, Eren had met a boy named Armin-- a short and shy young blonde, who always seemed to be in the little library corner of the classroom. He was as smart as Misaka and Eren, if not smarter, therefore he also started a year early. The older boys were constantly making fun of Armin for his short stature, yet what caught Eren’s eyes the most was how no matter the power difference, Armin did not seem to back down. Even as the bullies picked and teased at him, he held his head high.

When Eren approached one day to ask why, Armin would simply state “I haven’t lost yet if I refuse to back down.” And it was that bravery, even in the most dire of situations, that had Eren grinning.

Hands on his hips, he announced, “my name is Eren, but you probably already knew that. And that girl over there,” Eren paused to point at Mikasa, who was watching from across the room to make sure Eren wasn’t getting himself into trouble, “is Mikasa. Let’s all be friends. Mikasa! C’mere! This is Armin and he’s super cool and smart.” After gesturing her over, he turns back to Armin with a grin on his face. “Mikasa is super cool too. She’s smart like you, and really strong. She’s my best friend, and I’ve known her my entire life. I just know we’ll all get along,” he said happily while readjusting his scarf.

And right he was, for that was the beginning of the trio’s epic friendship.

21 Years Ago (7 years old)

He took her hand, and led her to his horse. Just like how the leaves were swept away by the wind, so were they. If you watched, you’d see the horse getting smaller and smaller as they rode farther away. But maybe, if you listened, you would hear the princess’s and prince’s joyful laughter- a truly happy ever after ending for them.

“No, no, no, no!” That’s not what happened in my dream! If I remember correctly, we lived in a castle!” Eren exclaimed. He didn’t know where Mikasa got that dream before.

“Well, I’m just telling you what I saw in my dream. Maybe you’re the one with bad memory,” she snapped back, a frown on her face as she lightly tugged on the red scarf he always kept around his neck.

For the past couple months, they had been dreaming of being together in a number of lives. They often fought about them in front of Armin, constantly asking him which one of the two dreamt the right dream. Poor Armin. Luckily, the boy had a knack for reading any and every book he could find, and he decided to do something about it before the fight could escalate again.

“Maybe you two remembered different parts of your old life, and maybe even different lives. You never know, you could have been a prince or princess more than once,” he proposed.

Mikasa’s brows quirk in confusion. “You think so?” she asked.

Eren, on the other hand, fully trusted the other boy, knowing just how smart he was from all the reading he’s done. Grinning, he proudly stated,“Don’t doubt Armin, Mikasa. He’s super smart. I bet he’s right with just about everything.”

“Really?” the girl excitedly asked. “Wait, so Armin, do you know how babies are made?”

Omake:

Eren: “Of course he does! He read it in a book and told me. A stork plucks a baby from a pond and delivers it at night.”

19 Years Ago (9 years old)

“We were super cool ninjas with powers! Like Naruto!” Eren exclaimed, jumping, kicking, and punching the air as if he was fighting an imaginary person. His red scarf danced and swayed along with him as he energetically moved around. He briefly paused to glance at Mikasa, excited to see her reaction, when he saw her expression. It had his previously bright, green eyes dulling into a light grey color. Furrowing his eyebrows, he asked, “You okay Mikasa?”

She sat there, a worried look on her face. “Eren, will my mom be okay?” Even though she was young, she knew something went wrong when her mom had her. Her mom was always happy, yet sad when talking about Misaka's birth. She overheard one night from her parents that having Mikasa was very difficult for them, let alone having another child.

This question always broke his heart- no matter how many times he’s heard it. He stared at her for a moment before slowly walking to her, unwrapping his scarf off his neck. He stopped right in front of her-- her head right below his chin-- before taking his scarf in two hands and wrapping it around her neck instead. Finishing up the last loop, he messily placed the last few inches on top of her head before taking a seat next to her on the couch.

“I don’t know Mikasa. I don’t know. But you’re going to be okay, I promise.”

Eren had said “you’re” not “it’s,” and she couldn't be more thankful. The little boy could not promise that everything would be okay, but he could promise that she would. Why? Because she still had a home. Because he was there. And he always would be.

“I’m right here. And if you ever need more comfort, whenever and wherever we are, I’ll just wrap that scarf around you again,” he stated confidently. He hugged Mikasa, who in turn hugged him back before they laid down facing each other.

“You’ll really do it? You’ll wrap the scarf around me just like you did in the dream I told you I had last night? That one’s my favorite dream-- but I like all of our other dreams too. Promise me we’ll always talk about them. No matter how old we are, we’ll still tell them to each other, okay? Promise me,” Mikasa prompted as she rested her hand in between them.

It was no surprise when Eren gave her a small smile while stating “Promise,” before reaching out with his hand to interlock his fingers with Mikasa’s.

18 Years Ago (10 years old)

At ten years old, Eren was starting to believe what the other boys in his grade were saying about girls. At first, he tried to fight back and ignore their stupid antics, but he hated the fact that people thought Mikasa was stronger than him. He didn’t want her protection; he wanted to protect her.

“Why does she always speak for you, anyway?” one of them would ask.

“She’s a girl; shouldn’t you be stronger?” another would add.

“Don’t forget that girls have cooties.”

“She’s just plain scary too.”

Eren could feel his cheeks heat up at the comments, and if the boys were paying close attention, they would’ve seen his eyes turn a stormy grey. Whether it was from embarrassment of being below Mikasa, or anger of someone daring to badmouth her, he didn’t know.

“Don’t say that about Mikasa. Girls should be strong, and there’s nothing wrong with not being quiet and dainty,” he loudly proclaimed. But while his heart was burning to continue defending Mikasa, a part of him couldn’t help but hate the situation he was in. Why was Mikasa always the one to protect him, and why did it bother him so much?

Weeks had passed, and Mikasa noticed how Eren seemed to be avoiding her. Was it what everyone was saying about them? Or was it something else? The only other thing she could think of was when she gave him a nice punch (a well-deserved punch at that) for being an idiot and getting into trouble again. Because of him, they both had to stay in the classroom writing apology letters during recess-- it’s not like she was going to let him fight those bullies alone. But he couldn’t be THAT mad at her, could he? The jerk sort of deserved it. It broke her. But, Mikasa being Mikasa, she decided to confront him today.

“Eren, why are you ignoring me? Are you okay? Did something happen?” she asked.

“I’m not ignoring you, okay? Why can’t you just let me be and do my own thing. You’re not my mom, and I'm not your kid brother. I don’t need you around all the time, and I definitely don’t always need your help.” Eren spat, irritated.

Just as he was about to leave, Mikasa spoke again. “So you’re saying that I’m not important.”

Eren, caught off guard, froze. “No! I never--”

“You’re saying that those other boys, your other friends, are more important than me and that what they think matters more than me.” Mikasa clarified, tears starting to swell up in her eyes.

...1 second...

...2 seconds…

Gears were turning in Eren’s head, realizing what he’d almost done to their friendship-- what he’d almost done to Mikasa, his Mikasa, his best friend. He could feel his anger subside, and Mikasa saw his grey eyes slowly brighten to green. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. Why don’t you come over today? We can play tag and hide and seek… Or I could even play with the dolls you made. You made one of me, right? Just the two of us. I promise this won’t happen again.”

“Good. I like Auntie Carla’s cooking. We’re walking home from school together, okay? Like old times,” she simply stated before walking away. She was not going to take any chances of Eren saying no. Of course, Mikasa expected his previous response. As much as Eren had been avoiding her, she truly trusted him to always come back. He always did. She could bet her life (and heart) on it.

17 Years Ago (11 years old)

Lunch was going well for the first day of 6th grade. It was an odd transition from eating with classmates in their grade level to being able to eat with just about anyone that attended their school. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin were finishing up their lunch when they heard a voice.

“Your long black hair is… really beautiful, by the way,” a boy with ash-brown hair shyly says to Mikasa. His blush was evident on his light skin and he could barely look at the girl. His name was Jean Kirstein, a new classmate of the trio’s; and he annoyed Eren to no end. Who did this guy think he was? It was their first year at South Paradis Junior High-- there were so many other elementary schools that fed into here that it was unlikely that they’d know all their classmates. And yet, this boy was already coming straight up to Mikasa and complimenting her hair. Mikasa was a rare beauty and Eren’s best friend; she deserved the best and only the very best. He wasn’t going to let some horse face of a boy take a chance with her.

Armin noticed Eren’s frown and how his eyes were a dark grey. He honestly considered teasing him: “Of course you’d be the petty, jealous type.” That’s all he had to say. It was fairly easy, and Armin was quite sure that voicing that thought would have Eren in a stuttering mess trying to deny it all. He’d probably be so busy denying it that he would’ve spent more time arguing with Armin than acting on his jealousy. Though against his better judgement, Armin kept his mouth shut, allowing Eren to speak up.

“Mikasa,” Eren said softly as he grabbed a piece of her hair, “aren’t you trying out for the martial arts team? You should cut your hair. You could get into an accident.” Eren didn’t even bother glancing at Jean; he opted for keeping his gaze on Mikasa as he waited for an answer.

“Yeah… you’re right. I should probably cut it,” she stated as she absentmindedly grabs the same strand Eren was holding, their fingers grazing one another in the process. Eren would never admit it, but his fingers burned right where his and Mikasa’s briefly touched. The physical contact didn’t last long, but he could still feel the warmth she emulated when he went to bed that night. He didn’t know why, though.

13 Years Ago (15 years old)

It wasn’t until sophomore year of high school that Eren realized just why he felt that way-- why he always had the urge to protect Mikasa to the point that her being stronger than him made him angry, why he was always hit with an overwhelming feeling of jealousy whenever Jean was anywhere near her, why his skin started burning at her slightest touch. It wasn’t until sophomore year of high school that Eren realized just why he started to look at his best friend a little differently, why she always lingered in his thoughts a bit longer and a bit more than everyone else.

He was, unfortunately, stupid enough to make homecoming plans without Mikasa. Last year, the two of them and Armin had all gone together, but Armin was finally going with Annie this year. It was of the utmost obviousness that those two had something going ever since she transferred to their school in 7th grade. Annie was a quiet girl who usually kept to herself, maybe occasionally speaking with Bertholdt and Reiner since they transferred from the same school. But otherwise, it seemed as if only Armin was able to break through her shell. It was honestly quite ironic how Eren and Mikasa often teased Armin for his incapability to express his feelings, when he could’ve easily pointed out theirs. The ache in his heart when Annie was away --the way he constantly missed her and wished she was around-- was no different from what Eren and Mikasa secretly told Armin when they were apart. How could Eren and Mikasa not know?

“Historia asked me to homecoming,” Eren had told Mikasa one night after they both respectively finished martial arts and baseball practice. He could see the small glare she gave him, as she stared at him for what felt like hours without saying a word.

“Okay, then just ask her out.” Mikasa didn’t even try to hide her annoyance.

“It’s not like that. I don’t-- There’s nothing-- We’re not like that. I think she’s just pretty bummed that Ymir moved and needs a friend. You know she doesn’t have that many ‘cause her dad’s been sheltering her. You can come with. I told her that I was planning on going with you,” Eren replied. It’s not like he wanted Mikasa to feel left out or unimportant. One of his friends needed his help, and he would never-- could never-- turn his back on a friend. They were the most important people in the world to him, almost on the same level as his parents, Armin, and Mikasa. Of course he would be there if one of them ever needed a hand.

And it was because Mikasa knew him so well that she tried to control herself. Mikasa wanted to argue-- wanted to tell Eren that there were plenty of other people Historia could’ve asked. She had Sasha, Connie, and Jean too. She could’ve even asked her. Why did it have to be specifically Eren? She was jealous, she acknowledged that, because all she ever wanted was to be near Eren. The thought of him belonging to some other girl hurt so badly. For him to have another home besides her, for her to not be able to call him her home-- she didn’t know if she wanted to even be alive if that were to happen. Eren was everything to her. But another part of her just wanted to let it be. If Eren was happy, and as his best friend, shouldn’t she be happy for him too? All she ever wanted was to be near him. Romantic relationship or not, she already had that. Eren cared about her and Armin more than anyone in the world; she has everything she’s asked for. Shouldn’t that be enough?

“No, it’s ok. You don’t need to explain. She needs a friend, and I think you should go. Jean and I were talking in class today. He actually offered for us to join their group because Sasha and Connie wanted to do a whole extravagant group meetup, with pictures and food and everything. I’ll just tag along with them,” her lips drew into a straight line in an attempt to smile. She knew Eren well enough to know that he knew --that she knew-- that he knew that it was most definitely not okay. But to her dismay, neither acknowledged the elephant in the room nor the growing tension between them.

Eren didn’t want to. He was too busy feeling the blood rushing through his ears at the mention of Jean asking Mikasa out. There was only one other time he remembered feeling this jealous-- it had been all that time ago, when they first met Jean back in 6th grade. The horse face had told Mikasa her long, black hair was beautiful, and while Eren agreed, it pissed him off to no end that someone other than him was looking at Mikasa. Of course, it was no surprise that many boys and girls were looking at her-- she was beautiful and strong and everything that a woman should be. But having random people look at her didn’t compare to the jealousy he felt when it came to Jean. Eren wanted Mikasa all to himself. But what right did he have to whine and complain when he was the one to bring up taking Historia to the dance? Jealousy was an ugly feeling, and he hated how accustomed he had gotten to feeling it. Stupid Jean, stupid world, stupid homecoming, stupid him. Oh how he hated himself more than ever for putting himself in that situation. All he ever wanted was to be with Mikasa, and here he was doing the opposite-- here he was starting a small rift between them. One stupid statement, and he already felt far, far away from home.

12 Years Ago (16 years old)

It was concerning, really, how months later, Eren and Mikasa still couldn’t address the divide between them. While the two often got into small arguments before, they were usually solved within a week, if not immediately. This was the first time that it ever lasted more than a few days, if this could even be considered an argument. They were talking, but something felt off-- both of them could feel it. Mikasa didn’t want to push boundaries. Eren was still her friend; he was safe and nearby, so could she really complain? As for Eren, he could feel the ache of Mikasa’s absence run deeper than his heart. It made him sick in a way he couldn’t completely describe— like he was homesick or something.

While he saw her everyday at school, she often paired up with Armin or Jean instead. While he ate lunch with her at the same table as their friend group, she usually spent her time listening to Sasha ramble on and on about meat and food and the so-called cute senior in her culinary class named Niccolo. Even when he was sitting right next to her in the driver’s seat as he dropped her home after practice, their conversations ran shallow. He missed their inside jokes and their talks about their dreams. For months, he’d been wanting to tell her his recurring dream of one of their past lives. How every night, his sleep would send him to the peaceful mountains of Switzerland, where he lived in a tiny cottage with her. They were alone-- isolated from society-- and they often needed to fish, hunt, and gather their own food, but they were together. They were together and they were happy, and God help him, that’s all he ever wanted.

He wondered that of the many other dreams she’s had of what they presumed to be their past lives, if she saw that same dream too. He hoped so. He hoped that when he was away, she felt that same ache too. He hoped that in the same way no one could ever replace her in his heart, no one would ever replace him in hers. Call him selfish, but he wanted Mikasa all to himself-- wanted to be the only person that would ever claim her heart. He didn’t want anyone-- not Jean, not even Armin-- to have Mikasa. So why was he letting her slip through his fingers?

It wasn’t until months later, near the end of summer, that the two finally resolved whatever issue was going on. With school out, Historia rarely saw anybody outside her friends, and even then, she was only really comfortable around Eren-- only he knew the pain of missing someone. Historia knew he was suffering. He never told her-- never really told anyone except Armin-- how he felt about Mikasa, but Historia could see the longing in his eyes whenever he gazed at Mikasa and the sadness they held whenever he talked about her. And it was for this reason that she refused to leave Eren alone. He needed a friend, and so did she. There was no way she’d abandon him-- no way she would abandon anyone in need.

Over summer, the two started volunteering at homeless shelters and orphanages. They’d occasionally invite the whole group over: Sasha, Connie, Jean, Mikasa, Armin… There were days that the seven of them would volunteer during the day and go out for dinner in the evening to catch up. But the amount of time that the group met up was nothing in comparison to the amount of time Historia and Eren spent together. It was evident in the way they talked at their group outings, and it didn’t help with the growing tension between Eren and Mikasa either.

Seeing them together, seeing them so happy-- seeing Eren so happy without her-- had Mikasa feeling things. Was she missing something-- a component or aspect that maybe was pushing Eren away from her? Or was she too overbearing? What did Historia have that she didn’t? There must be a reason why Eren seemed to be wanting to spend more time with the other girl as opposed to her. She missed seeing Eren’s smile and his happy, green eyes. She was both angry and hurt, and while she knew she had no right to speak, for she was Eren’s best friend, not his lover, she could only take so much before snapping.

She hadn’t meant to say it; at least, not out loud and most definitely not in front of Eren, but her jealousy got the better of her. Historia and Eren were once again telling the group about some project they went on the other week to help orphans in a different country. They were laughing and reminiscing about the troubles they went through during their time there when Mikasa spoke.

“We get it. You guys had a great time,” her voice dripping with disdain as she glared at Historia. It wasn’t until Mikasa noticed everyone staring at her that she realized the rudeness of what she had said. Hesitantly, she said “Sorry. I’ve, uhh, I’ve had a rough few… months. I’m just gonna go,” before hastily leaving the table.

“Wait!” Historia called after her.

“We haven’t even ordered anything yet, aren’t you hungry?” Jean added.

She ignored them both, though, and opted to continue walking out of the restaurant, even as the others tried to call out after her.

Armin used that distraction to nudge Eren’s side. “Eren,” he whispered sternly, grinding his teeth together. “It’s now or never. Don’t let it get worse. Are you really going to let her go?”

And it was because Armin knew both Mikasa AND Eren so well that he didn’t doubt that it was all he needed to say to get the guy moving. Not even a second later, Eren was scrambling off his chair and past his friends as he hurriedly followed Mikasa.

“Mikasa! Mikasa, wait. What was that? What’s wrong?” he asked. One of his hands was gripping her arm and holding her in place. He had tugged at it lightly so that Mikasa was slightly facing him, and his eyes desperately searched hers for an answer.

“Nothing,” she stated, trying (but failing) to keep her composure. It’s not like she could come out and say “Oh, I’m jealous of Historia. I hate how she spends a lot of time with you because I secretly love you, Eren.” She could barely admit that fact herself, let alone confess it to someone else.

Eren stared at her in wait, desperately wanting to know what they had and where they stood. Anyone watching could’ve easily seen it in his eyes. “Please,” he begged when she remained stubbornly quiet. “Please tell me what’s wrong. Don’t you miss the way things used to be? What’s happened between us?”

“Historia--”

“Historia and I are just friends! I already told you that, back during homecoming. Why did we drift apart just because of that? Why did it seem like you weren’t interested in talking to me anymore? Why did we stop hanging out everyday?” Eren urged Mikasa to answer. He was already fighting back tears, when one question that had been nagging at him the past few months made its way out his mouth. “Why did we stop talking about our dreams?! Didn’t we always promise to talk about them? Have you given up on a useless idiot like me?”

Seeing Eren cry stopped Mikasa in her tracks. She stopped trying to get her arm out of Eren’s grip and settled for looking at him straight in the eyes, near tears herself. “Eren,” she says with soft urgency. It was only then, when he felt her sad gaze on him and lack of resistance against his grip, did Eren completely let go of Mikasa. She grabbed both his shoulders, giving him the slightest shake. “Don’t say that about yourself. Please. You’re not a useless idiot. It’s just-- I… really missed you. I’m sorry. I know you told me that you and Historia were just friends, but I didn’t like how jealous I felt. I wanted you only by my side, because it’s always been Mikasa and Eren, and Eren and Mikasa, and seeing you with someone else-- I… I don’t know. I guess, I’m not used to having to be apart from you. More than anything in the world, all I want is to be near you. When you kept visiting Historia and spending the summer with her, it just felt like you didn’t need me around anymore, or that you maybe didn’t want me around,” Mikasa confessed, her blush evident.

If Eren heard her correctly, then maybe she was feeling the same ache that he’d been feeling. Maybe, just maybe, she did love him the way that he loved her-- not as a sibling nor a best friend, but something more. He raised both his hands to grab her face, never breaking eye contact.

She could see how his previously gray eyes had started shifting over to green. Mikasa lifted her hands to hold onto his wrists needing to stabilize herself, as she felt like she would faint at any moment with the way Eren was holding her. Since when did his touch start making her knees so weak? And since when did his gaze start making her self-conscious and nervous?

“Mikasa,” Eren whispered, closing his eyes. He didn’t think he’d have the courage to look at her when their faces were close-- so close that their foreheads were nearly touching and he could feel the warmth of her shaky breaths on his face. “I’ll always want you with me,” he whispered softly as he tried to lean in. He wanted to kiss her-- wanted to know what it’d feel like to have her lips on his-- but what if he was wrong about his assumptions? What if Mikasa didn’t feel the same ache in her heart as he did? What if he was just like family to her and nothing more? If he kissed her and he was wrong, it’d for sure ruin their friendship, and the rift between them that they were currently trying to heal would be damaged for good.

He was too busy worrying about all that to realize that Mikasa, too, wanted to kiss him. He didn’t even realize the slight tilt up of her head nor the way her fingers lightly squeezed his wrists before she stopped in realization that he wasn’t actually going to kiss her. Neither of them wanted to make the first move in fear of ruining what they had-- whatever it was. And so instead, Eren went limp and rested his forehead against hers, eyes still closed, and Mikasa did the same. They didn’t move until Mikasa’s stomach growled.

“I knew you were hungry. It’s 7 o’clock and you usually eat an early brunch,” Eren laughed.

“Eren, your eating habits are worse than mine. You’re probably hungrier than me. Let’s go back inside,” Mikasa snapped back with a smile.

Things felt normal again and both were the happiest they’ve been in months. Their friendship was okay. Romantic relationship or not, they were still Eren and Mikasa, and Mikasa and Eren-- they were still each other's best friend. They were together, and to them, that’s all that ever mattered in the world. They were home.

10 Years Ago (18 years old)

Many moments from the next few years were filled with awkward silence or slight tension, ones caused by the fight they had at 16. It was like the rift never fully healed, and that made it much easier to get into small fights. Maybe it was because much of the problem itself never went away. The arguments grew from insecurities and miscommunication; they were two teenagers stupidly in love, yet too scared to say anything. Regardless, it was Eren and Mikasa, and so the fights never lasted too long.

It was the last weeks of summer before the two had to go off to college, and unlike two summers ago, Eren made sure that they were making every last moment count. From getting ice cream to hiking at nearby state parks, Eren came up with plans to hangout every single day. He had to, especially because they’d be spending the next four years apart. Both were originally going to Purdue University, along with quite a few of their friends. Eren was going for aviation, Mikasa for elementary education, Armin for political science with a minor in oceanography, and Jean for business.

Unfortunately, times were cruel and news channels were filled with stories of a possible onslaught of World War III. It seemed surreal, but the growing tensions across many countries of the world had many people worrying if it was actually possible. Eren, in particular, found it interesting enough to change his mind about college. He still wanted to fly-- wanted to know the feeling of freedom-- but first and foremost, he felt a strong duty to protect his country because it’s where the people he loved lived. If the possibility of an oncoming World War III was true, Eren wanted to be prepared. He still hadn’t brought it up to Mikasa or Armin, his decision being so last minute.

He had spent countless nights contemplating on whether he should go or not. If he entered the military, he’d be signing his life away for four years. That’s four years of not being able to always see Mikasa, assuming he’d be able to hide it from her. He just had to keep his decision a secret long enough for Mikasa to not be able to follow him in. Eren knew that she wouldn’t hesitate to drop everything if it meant being able to be with and protect him, but if Eren cared about her the way he claims he does, shouldn’t he be protecting her too? They should be equals, not whatever this was. Just this once, he wanted to be the one protecting, even if it meant being apart from her.

And so, that’s how he came to the decision the night before Decision Day to enter the military as opposed to Purdue. It broke his heart and worried him to no end that for the next four years, he’d be far away from Mikasa-- far away from home. What if something happened while he was gone? Something bad, and he wasn’t there to help her through it? Sure, Jean and Armin would be there, and Mikasa would surely meet other people too. But would they be able to be there for her in the way she deserved? He knew Mikasa better than anyone else, even Armin, so could anyone really live up to his expectations of what he wanted for Mikasa? All these questions ran through his head as he drove Mikasa back home from the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, another one of the trips he planned.

Mikasa, not one to not notice Eren’s changes in behavior, glanced over at the driver’s seat, wondering why Eren suddenly got quiet. “Eren?”

At the sound of her voice, Eren was immediately pulled out of his thoughts. But one look at her, and he was filled with sorrow again. Soon, he’d have to leave her and it’d be another four years or so before they would be able to return to the old days, if going back to the old days was even possible. For all he knew, this could be the very last time they’d talk to each other like this again. These last few days could be the very last time that Eren and Mikasa, and Mikasa and Eren are a thing. He wanted to make the most out of it-- whatever time he had left. “Mikasa,” he stated before pulling over to the side of the road. He wanted to be sure he could clearly see her face, without any distractions. “Let's get out of here,” he continued, looking her in the eye.

She stared at him, observed his movements, the color of his eyes. They were a mix of green and gray, much lighter than his usual forest green eyes that signaled his happiness, but not exactly the stormy grey eyes he had when he was angry or sad either. It confused her, because in the rare times that she didn’t know what he was feeling, his eye color usually gave it away. But this time, it’s like he was both happy and sad. “What do you mean?”

Eren was practically quivering in fear that she’d be angry or reject what he was about to offer. But he kept reminding himself that these last few days would be the last time he’d see her in a long while. They’d be apart for the first time since they were born, and he wasn’t sure how either of them would be able to handle it. He looked away to gather his nerves before turning back around and taking a deep breath.

“Don’t be mad with what I’m about to say. Please.” Eren waited for her nod before continuing. “The night before decision day, I actually decided I was going to be joining the military-- the army. And before you even think of telling me you’ll join too, don’t. You needed to decide by decision day, so there’s no point in joining now if we’re going to be in different regiments. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just wanted to do this to protect everyone, while not influencing any of your decisions to pursue your dreams…” he paused again, waiting for Mikasa’s reaction.

The girl wanted to scold him for making such a hasty and dangerous decision. She didn’t know where to begin. The military was a four-year commitment, which meant that they’d be apart for four years. Would she be able to handle that? They had never been apart for anywhere near that long. And what if the military changes him? Even if he didn’t get deployed, he’d still have to go through basic training and the like. She had heard stories of how the military, even just camp, changed people. What if some part of him never comes back from that? Would he still be her Eren-- the same Eren?

“Mikasa, stop thinking about it. Let’s just… enjoy what time we have left of summer break, okay? I told you this because I was hoping you’d say yes to what I’m about to ask you. For the last few days of summer, let’s go to Switzerland, in Crans-Montana-- in between the mountains where we went on that band trip junior year. Remember how Armin and I climbed the balcony on the third story of the building, just so we could spend the night talking about the most random things? We stayed up till sunrise and nearly got caught staying together in the same bedroom,” he chuckled. “Let’s go there again. Just the two of us. Mikasa, come with me. It wouldn’t be home with you.”

Mikasa, who was shocked and deep in thought, could only manage to give him a small smile before taking the opportunity to reach over the console and grab one of Eren’s hands. “One condition: you wrap this scarf around me one last time, okay?”

6 Years Ago (22 years old)

“Hey Mikasa, have you heard from Eren? I don’t think I’ve received any letters from him in a while,” Armin said.

Their usual group was having a meet-up at their favorite restaurant, a celebration for finishing finals; they’d be graduating in less than a month’s time. And yet, there was a sort of sad or empty feeling to the group, as Eren wouldn’t be home for another 6 months or so. He had to finish his military contract, and there was no way for him to visit at the moment due to his most recent deployment.

“No, I haven’t; the last letter was from a few weeks ago. I think he’s busy. Last I heard, he was deployed somewhere in the Middle East,” Mikasa replied softly.

“Have you told him already?” asked Jean. He gently placed his arms across her shoulders from his seat next to her.

Even from across the table, Armin could see the ring glistening on his finger. He had read somewhere that only about 7% of men actually wore engagement rings; he wasn’t surprised that Jean was of that percentage. It matched the diamond on Mikasa’s hands that were resting on the table. Armin didn’t know how to feel about the entire thing. Mikasa did genuinely look happy, and she deserved every bit of it. So did Jean, especially after all that he’d done for Mikasa when Eren wasn’t able to be there for her. It wasn’t really in his place to judge— what did he know about love? It had taken him years to spend time with Annie, and even then, it took many more awkward conversations and longing glances for them to establish the bond between them. So maybe it did make sense for Mikasa to accept Jean’s proposal. While everyone felt Eren’s absence, he was sure that he and Mikasa felt it the most.

Jean was always there to comfort Mikasa, even when Armin couldn’t. He never overstepped his boundaries, knowing that it was improper to make a move on someone whose heart belonged to someone else, but as the time between Eren’s letters lengthened, the more Jean found himself attending events with Mikasa, or being left alone to study for classes together since Armin wanted surprise Annie, until one day she started smiling at him almost the same way as she did to Eren. A part of him initially wondered if Mikasa really did love him, or if she just appreciated his presence. But those doubts didn’t last long because it just wasn’t like Mikasa to do something like that.

Mikasa was glad that he did believe her when she said she loved him, because she did. Jean was kind and funny; he was hardworking, empathetic, and an amazing leader. She saw how he treated his peers and subordinates with respect and often put himself in their place to make sure they received the best treatment. He also smiled at her in this certain way. She couldn’t describe it, but it made her heart flutter. She loved having him around because he was one of the only people that filled the void of Eren’s absence. She loved when he would pull out a chair for her on lunch and dinner dates, when he brought her breakfast at her dorm in the mornings, and when he helped her put on her jacket even when she didn’t need help. She loved him-- Jean; she really did. But she also knew a part of her would never really let go of Eren, not completely.

“No, I haven’t,” Mikasa stated hesitantly. “I thought he should find out in person, especially since it’d be awkward for me to ask him to be my maid of honor when he’s not even a girl,” earning snickers from Sasha and Connie, who were also seated with them.

“Wait, so you guys have been engaged for months now, and Eren still doesn’t know?” Annie asked, her voice blunt.

Armin lightly kicked Annie’s foot under the table. “Annie,” he softly warned. The two stared at each other as Jean attempted to break the awkward atmosphere.

“No, it’s all good. We wrote to him saying that we started dating, but I guess we’re waiting to tell him about the engagement. He’s on Mikasa’s side after all. He deserves to hear it from her, whenever she’s ready.”

. . . . .

It wasn’t until Annie and Armin were on their way home from lunch did Annie dare to speak again. “Correct me if I’m wrong,” she started. “But Jean’s just in denial that Mikasa is prolonging the engagement because a part of her will never stop loving Eren,” she tells Armin

“I don’t think he’s in denial… Just that, a part of him-- well, a part of all of us-- know that Eren will always have a place in Mikasa’s heart. It doesn’t mean she won’t move on with her life. Though, I will admit that I think Jean deserves someone who will love him completely.” Armin said. And though Annie remained silent, he knew her well enough to see the slight hesitation in her actions, as if she was contemplating on whether or not she should say something. “Eren’s always been adventurous, wanting to explore the world rather than stay here; he’s always been a small distance from Mikasa and me, no matter how close we try to be to him. I think--” he paused, trying to process his thoughts into words. “I think that he just needs time to understand what she means to him. They both do.”

1 Year Ago (27 years old)

The wait for Eren’s return came by slowly, and the way he took the news of Mikasa and Jean’s engagement was quite anti-climactic. Everyone in their friend group expected more, but he was just blank and glaze-eyed for what seemed like months after he returned home. Even years later, not much of his behavior changed. The military had not been what he expected. He went in excited to serve his country-- determined to protect his people and loved ones, no matter the sacrifices he had to make. But the horrors that awaited him were beyond anything he could imagine.

Everytime he closed his eyes, he could hear bombs, screaming, and gunshots, along with the sights of blood and blurred vision. He’d somewhat grown accustomed to it, at least on the outside. He no longer jolted at the slightest touch or immediately stood alert at loud noises. Unfortunately, he still felt far, far away. There were times when he didn’t feel like he was safe or at home, but in fear of worrying Mikasa and the others, he opted for staring blankly at his surroundings.

He could practically hear his mom nagging in his ear “How many times did I tell you to NOT join? Did I not tell you that the army isn’t worth it?”

Eren almost agreed. Almost. Because while a selfish part of him wished he stayed with Mikasa, he couldn’t exactly regret leaving. Yes, more than anything in the world, he wanted to be with her; It had been his dream when he was younger, and still was his dream now. But how could he compare his happiness to the lives of millions, or more importantly, his friends?

He hoped his unhappiness didn’t show too much-- hoped that his friends wouldn’t see how his jaw clenched in anger at the thought of not being able to be with Mikasa the way he was in his dreams.

But they did, at least, Armin and Mikasa did. They noticed because this new Eren, so emotionless and easily irritated, wasn’t him. It broke their hearts to see him so different. It broke Mikasa’s heart to see the caring and determined boy she grew up with-- the one that would do anything for his family and friends-- was just… gone. Her heart ached because she had waited so long, waited 4 years to see him again, only for it to seem like he never even came back. She wanted nothing more than to be able to hug him, ask him what the matter was, and tell him everything was going to be okay because she was there-- the same way he always did when she was out of it. She wanted to tell him she lov--. No, she couldn’t do that, because it wouldn’t be fair to Jean. It wouldn’t be fair to Jean who always cared about her well-being when Eren was gone, who never overstepped when he sensed something going on between her and Eren. It just wasn’t right for her to be saying any of that last part to Eren.

Not that it would change anything. It was like he was always angry. And whenever someone asked, he’d just rudely brush them off. Which is how Eren and Mikasa got into this position: as if the past few years have not already been filled with awkward glances and underlying tension, Eren and Mikasa were, once again, fighting.

Eren could only bite his cheek while shaking his head, “That’s just the thing, Mikasa. You don’t understand. You would never be able to, and you’ve just really been pissing me off lately. God, I hate you.”

“No, no you don’t. I know you, Eren,” she insisted softly.

He hated how it didn’t phase Mikasa, as if she was expecting him to say that or that his opinion didn’t matter to her. But while this was so, he hated even more her unwillingness to give up on him. Why wouldn’t she just let go. He doesn’t deserve any type of kidness-- not after abandoning her for some stupid dream in the military, not after letting some other man claim her, not after all the awful things he had to do while he was in the Middle East. He didn’t deserve any kindness from Mikasa-- he didn’t deserve her.

And yet, he was angry that Jean was with her, because even after everything Eren had done, he still wanted Mikasa to be his. He wasn’t mad at her-- God no, he could never be mad at her-- but he was mad at the entire situation and all his conflicting emotions.

His anger got the better of him, of course, and he continued speaking. “Don’t you think your life is so pitiful? I might be fucked up in the head, but at least I’m not stuck in a long engagement, working a regular 9-5 schedule like some robot who’s following orders. I actually have some interesting things going on in my life,” Eren sneered. He internally cringed at the harshness of his words when he saw Miaksa recoil. He hit her where it hurt, he was sure. Good. Maybe if she hated him, it’d be easier for him to move on with his life without her beside him.

It took Mikasa a second to recollect herself. She honestly wanted to cry, but with the way Eren had just treated her, she did not want to give him the satisfaction of it. “Okay,” she tried to calmly say. “You clearly don’t want me around, so I’m just going to go,” she stood up from the table they sat at before walking away. Maybe Eren was too far gone-- too far changed after his military service-- too bitter at how life turned out for him. She deserved better, right? It was okay to walk away after what just happened. Slowly taking off her red scarf --the scarf he had given her so many years ago when they were just 9 years old-- she didn’t dare to look back. It was too bad she didn’t-- if she did, she might’ve caught Eren shedding a tear before quickly wiping it away.

Present Day (28 years old)

“Mikasa, we need to talk,” Jean stated firmly. It had been months since Eren and Mikasa’s big fight, and while everyone in their friend group knew something happened, no one was actually sure what exactly went down. Years of being Eren and Mikasa’s friends taught them to stay out of it. They’d solve it eventually-- they loved each other too much to stay apart forever. Which is the thought that solidified Jean’s decision to do what he was about to do. “I think we should break our engagement,” Jean announced slowly and quietly, as if it pained him to say it-- it probably did.

Mikasa reached out to grab his hand, “Jean--” she started before pausing.

Jean outstretched his hand in a gesture to let him continue.

“I’ve thought about it a lot. There is no doubt in my mind that you do love me. I know that. But I also know that you’ll never love me in the same way you love Eren. Even after everything, you still have his scarf. Mikasa, love like what you guys have-- it doesn’t happen often. Don’t let him go,” Jean’s voice cracked at his own advice.

Mikasa couldn’t deny it-- she could only stare at him sadly while apologizing. What for? She didn’t know. Maybe for leading him on? Or not loving him as much as Jean deserved?

“Hey, it’s okay. I love you. I want you to be happy, and if that means letting you go, then I will learn to live with it,” Jean gave her a small smile.

It made Mikasa want to cry. She probably hurt him a lot, with him always knowing he wouldn’t live up to Eren, and yet here he was, being understanding, a gentleman. He was letting her go. “Thank you,” she whispered before she gently kissed his cheek.

And before Jean knew it, she was gone. Just like that. Everything seemed to run by in a blur that he hadn’t even realized how much time had gone. One second, he was watching Miaksa leave, and the next, he was sandwiched between Connie and Sasha at a bar. He had a drink in his hand that he didn’t even remember buying. Had he been drinking?

“Yo, you seem out of it, man,” Connie stated while hooking his arm around Jean. It earned him a nudge from Sasha, who muttered something about letting Jean wallow in his despair a little longer. He had just let Mikasa go after all-- someone who he’d loved for over a decade. “Uhh what I meant to say was, I hope you know that you deserve someone who will love you with all their heart, and all of their mind, body, and soul. Someday, you will find someone who makes you happy, then you’ll forget just how much this hurts,” Connie says, him and Sasha rubbing Jean’s back in comfort.

. . . . .

Mikasa was never one to back down from confrontation, so even she found it surprising when a week later, she still hadn’t talked to Eren. It’s not that she didn’t want to, but rather, didn’t know how. Luckily, Eren was impulsive as ever, and so everything seemed to fall back into place when he showed up at her doorstep one day.

“Hey,” he says with a short breath, as if he was trying to hide his exhaustion from running or whatever extraneous activity he was doing beforehand.

“Hi,” Mikasa replies, looking at his disheveled hair and the sweat-stained neckline of his shirt. Did he rush over here?

“I heard from Jean… about umm… about what happened,” he pauses, seeming to take a moment to gather his thoughts. “I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused you-- what I’ve been causing you. But I just wanted to tell you this before I lose my courage: I’ve uhh I’ve been having this dream for a while, practically forever. Of all our dreams, our past lives-- presumably, at least-- this one is my favorite. We were together in Switzerland, in this small cabin. There were trees everywhere and mountains in sight. Nothing ever really happened, except… normal everyday things. We hunted, fished, gathered wood… it was simple, but I was really, really really happy. I was happy because I was home with you. Those nights and my memories of that dream kept me going, even during my hardest times.” He notices how she was slowly registering what he said, so he gives it one last push. “What I’m trying to say is--”

“I know, sorry it took me a second,” Mikasa lightly laughs. “Why did you come back?” she dares to ask. It was a little awkward, like they haven’t been friends for the past 28 years.

Eren could only smile before grabbing her hands in between them, slightly hesitating. He grips them a little more tightly as if to stabilize himself. “Because we’re Eren and Mikasa, and Mikasa and Eren. Because you’re my best friend. Because I love you. Because you are my home, and I’ll always find my way home back to you.”

[imaginationintowords]

Folklore [song series]

this is me trying

Modern Day AU! Steve Rogers x OC!Reader; Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years.

word count: 3592

[a/n: I’m so sorry that it’s taken me so long to update this and my other story. i’ve been busy with school and work. thank you for your continued patience and support]

previous part

Series Masterlist

Age: 20 Year: Dec. 2014 Location: Brooklyn, NY

"How have you been James?”

Bucky looks out the window to his right. Hands grasped together in his lap as he sits on the dark green sofa across from the woman he's been seeing for the last 5 months.

He ponders the question, making sure to answer it honestly. He looks back at her giving her his full attention again.

"Good," he answers truthfully, a small smile planted on his face. Life has been good. School is going incredibly well. My job is going better than I could've imagined. Really learning a lot."

"How are things going with Natasha?" The older lady asks.

“Great. Really great," Bucky says with a slightly bigger smile.

"Good. I'm glad to hear that," she smiles back, proud to the see progress James has made since his first visit moths ago.

After the blow up he and Steve had, Bucky fell into a depressive state. He refused to talk to anyone about what had happened. It wasn't until his younger sister Rebecca came to talk to him:

"I get you don't want to talk to any of us about what happened last week," she said as Bucky laid in bed looking out the window, his back facing her, "But you can't just stay in bed, hiding for the world. Starving yourself isn't going to solve anything.

"Sulking is only going to make you worse. It's not healthy, Buck. We're all worried. Ma is incredibly worried. She's barely been eating. I hear her wandering the house at all hours, because she can't sleep."

"You don't want to talk to us, fine. But you need to talk to someone. If not for yourself, but for Ma. Please," she begs, before leaving Bucky alone to ponder what she said.

He knew he wasn't coping the healthy way. He hadn't realized how much he was affecting his family by shutting down. The last thing he wanted to do was worry his mother. So he got himself up, took a shower, ate breakfast with his family. They were surprised to see him come down, but tried not to draw any extra attention to it. Rebecca gave him an understanding nod, which he reciprocated. After breakfast, he began his research. He decided to listen to Rebecca's advice and find someone to talk to someone to help him make sense of what is going on in his mind.

And that's how he ended up in Dr. Abraham's office.

"Have you contacted Steve yet?" She asks.

"No," he answered fiddling with his fingers, "I feel embarrassed about the way I reacted."

"That's normal, James," she assured him, "But in order to repair any damage that's been cost, you need to talk to Steve. To move forward. From what you've told me he's a very understanding person. I'm sure once you've apologized and explain to him the steps you've taken to help your mental health, I'm sure he'd be willing to accept you back into his life."

"I'm not so sure," he looked down at his hands.

"You won't know until you've tried. Listen, I'm not here to tell you what to do or what not to do. I'm just here to help you navigate your thoughts a little better. In a more healthy way. If you're really serious about living a more healthier mental life, I think you should talk to him. You don't want to really throw this lifelong friendship away, do you?"

"No, I don't," he shakes his head.

"Good. Remember to be honest," she tells him, "Vulnerability isn't a bad thing. Your feelings aren't a nuisance. it's how you handle them is what matters. I'm not saying you have to talk to him as soon as you walkout of here. I just want you to start making the notion of doing so. Our time is just about up, how about we do this. Some homework for the week.

"I want you to write a letter to Steve. Bring it in next week, you don't have to read it. But I would like to discuss it. What do you say?"

"Okay, I could do that," he agreed.

Christmas week

Steve and Elizabeth flew back home a few days before Christmas. They put their bags in the trunk of their rental car.

The car ride was silent for awhile, both tired after a long flight, now sitting in traffic on their way back to their parents' place. This would be their first time back to Brooklyn since the whole Bucky situation. The road trip back to California was fun, but there was a looming sadness over Steve. It's not like he regrets standing up to Bucky he doesn't. He just wishes thing would've played out differently. He really wished Bucky would've talked to him before he left back to California.

"How are you feeling about being back?" Elizabeth asks, while they sat in traffic.

"I don't know," Steve sighs, "Feels weird going back home and not talking to Bucky."

"Maybe you should try calling him. It's been a few months. I'm sure he'd be willing to hear you out," she said, rubbing his right arm.

"I don't want to push him," Steve said through gritted teeth, his grip on the steering wheel getting tighter.

Bucky had been a touchy subject the last few months. During the first month Elizabeth would ask Steve if he'd heard from him, the answer always being no, followed by Steve shutting down. After that Elizabeth stopped asking, noticing how much it was affecting Steve, but the constant reminder of it wasn't helping. She knew that if Bucky ever did call, Steve would tell her. The only thing she could do was be patient and be there for Steve whenever he needed her.

The holidays kept everyone busy. On Christmas Eve. Steve spent it with Elizabeth's family at her grandma's house. Elizabeth found herself watching Steve play with her younger cousins, she couldn't help but giggle when they roped him into a tea party. She found herself imagining a future where Steve would do the same with their own children. She quickly shook the daydream away. Reprimanding herself a little for even thinking about kids at their young age.

On Christmas morning Elizabeth and Steve spent it with his parents. It was a nice peaceful day just lounging around in their pajamas. For dinner, Elizabeth's parents went over to have dinner at the Rogers' house. It was a nice little send off dinner for their parents who were leaving for Mexico to spend the New Years for a couples' getaway.

Elizabeth and Steve were heading to the Hamptons to spent NYE with Wanda, Thor, Loki, and Scott. They had planned to have a nice, peaceful trip.

While Steve and Elizabeth were at the Hamptons, Bucky and Natasha were spending their NYE at his family's beach cottage in Port Washington.

They were cuddled on the couch surrounded by take out containers, watching the New Years Eve special waiting for midnight to happen.

Bucky got up about 15 minutes to midnight to grab something from the kitchen. He walked back into the room with a new bottle of champagne and two champagne flutes.

"Got some champagne," he said holding it up for Natasha to see.

"Um," Natasha awkwardly shifted in her seat, "Actually about that."

Bucky looked at Nat confused, putting the bottle and flutes down on the coffee table before sitting back down next to her.

"What's wrong" he asked, grabbing the tv remote to mute the tv, and give Natasha his full undivided attention.

"So there's something I haven't told you," she says looking down at her fidgeting fingers.

"You're worrying me Nat," Bucky said, grabbing her hands to help ease her nerves

She looked up to meet his worry filled eyes.

"I'm pregnant," she announced.

Bucky eyes widen at her announcement, instantly dropping her hands. The look on her face showing she was telling the truth.

"How is that possible?" He asks in disbelief, "We've been so careful. We use double the protection. Condoms and you're on the pill."

"Actually about that," she nervously shifted under his intense gaze, "I haven't been on birth control in a little over two months."

"What?" Bucky yelled, quickly rising from his seat, "What do you mean you haven't been on birth control in a little over two months?"

"I got off of it," she shrugged trying to play it off, "It's my body and I can do what I want with it. And I just wanted to give my body a break, I've been on the pill since I was 15."

"I get it's your body, Natasha, I'm all for you doing whatever you want," he stresses, "but you should've told me. I'm your boyfriend, we have sex frequently. You should've at least had the respect of your sexual partner, letting him know that you were no longer on birth control. So in that case I could've been a tad more careful."

"We were using condoms," she half heartedly defended herself.

"They aren't 100% effective Natasha," he gripped his hair, in complete disbelief over this entire conversation, "You even know that. That also doesn't defend yourself for not telling me. You should've told me."

"I'm sorry. It's not like I was planning for this to happen," she yelled.

Bucky just stared at her like she just grew two heads. How is she not freaking out, he thought. They were clearly way too young for this. Which is why they took precautionary measures.

After a few moments of silence Natasha spoke up, "I'm keeping the baby."

Bucky didn't know what to say. He felt the room closing in on him. He started having a hard time catching his breath.

"James," Natasha quietly said, getting up to check on him. He raised his hand, silently telling her to stay where she's at.

He headed for the back door, the house felt too suffocating for him. He walked through the the small yard to the gate that led to the beach. Stumbling around.

To a stranger they would just think he's drunk. In reality he was just having a panic attack.

It was all too much. His mind was racing.

She's pregnant. With a baby. My baby. I'm going to have a kid. I'm going to be a dad. I'm not ready to be a dad. My dad was shit. God I can't be like my dad. I'm not ready for all of this.

He put his hands on his knees, hunched over trying to catch his breath. But he just couldn't. He did the only thing he could think of. He pulled out his phone and dialed the only person he knew would help.

Steve and Elizabeth were laughing with their friends, waiting for the countdown to begin. Steve felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He moved his shoulder off of the back of the couch, where Elizabeth was cuddled up against.

He pulled his phone out and his heart dropped at the name that appeared. He quickly got up and walked out of the living room and upstairs to the room where he was staying in for the week.

Wanda raised her eyebrow at Elizabeth, who just shrugged her shoulders, equally as confused.

"Bucky?" Steve answered the phone, closing the door behind him. He could hear Bucky hyperventilating on the other side.

"Steve," he tried to get out.

"Buck, what's wrong?" Steve asked, pressing the phone even closer to his ear the sound of everyone downstairs counting down to midnight.

"Steve, I-," Bucky was struggling to get out.

"Buck, please try to calm down," Steve stressed, "Inhale, hold it for a few seconds and then exhale. You need to calm down. I can't help you, if I can't understand you."

Bucky tried his best to calm himself down, with Steve talking him through it.

"Now, can you explain to me what's wrong?" Steve asked, hearing Bucky's breathing leveling out more.

"I-I'm not re-ready Steve," Bucky stutters, sniffling his nose.

"It's okay take your time, I'm here whenever you're ready."

"No, it's Natasha.”

"What's Natasha? Is she okay?" Steve questioned, getting more concerned.

"Yes, she's fi-ine," he stuttered again, trying to say the words.

"Where are you Buck?" Steve asked, looking around for his shoes and keys.

"I'm at the beach cottage."

"I'm in the Hamptons. Is there any way you can meet me back at my place?"

"Yeah, I think I can," Bucky said a bit more calmer now.

"Okay, I'll see you soon."

When midnight struck Elizabeth went upstairs to check on Steve, making sure everything was okay. She could hear him on the phone talking to Bucky, trying to calm him down. She waited outside of the door to give them some privacy.

Twenty minutes later Wanda went to go check on them, to find Elizabeth sitting on the floor.

"Is everything okay?" She whispered.

"I don't know," she answered, "I'm waiting for Steve. You can head back down, I'll be down shortly."

"Okay. We're here if you guys need anything," Wanda said before walking back down.

After another 25 minutes Elizabeth heard Steve hang up the phone. She softly knocked on the door, and let herself in. She walked in to see Steve frantically going around the room collecting his things.

"Steve is everything okay?"

"It's Buck. He called me while he was having a panic attack. Something about Natasha," he tells her.

"Is she okay?"

"I think so. I was able to calm him down. I need to get back home," he said putting his things in his suitcase.

"Okay. I completely understand. Do you want me to go with you for the drive?" She asked.

"I don't want you to have to cut your time here short," he says, feeling guilty for bringing this on her.

"Steve, something is clearly going on with Bucky. I want you to go to him, but maybe it's best if I drove. I haven't had a drink in hours, and you seem too frantic. Please let me help," she pleaded, placing her hand on his stopping him.

Steve looked up and noticed the worry on Elizabeth's face.

"Okay," he gave in, "We'll need to leave as soon as we can."

Elizabeth nodded, quickly grabbing her weekender bag and start shoving things in. If they forgot anything's he knew Wanda would bring it back.

They said their quick goodbyes and were on the road within 5 minutes, with Elizabeth behind the wheel and Steve fidgeting in the passenger seat.

Bucky took a few minutes to himself on the beach, trying to make sure his anxiety was at rest before he headed back inside. When he entered the house, Natasha shot up from her seat.

"Happy New Years," she awkwardly said, trying to cut the obvious tension.

"Umm," Bucky scratched his head looking everywhere but at Natasha, "We need to leave."

"What?"

"I mean, you can stay if you want and I'll pick you up tomorrow," he rephrased, "But I can't stay here. I need to go. Steve is meeting me at his house."

"Steve?" She was taken back by that mention, not expecting to hear Bucky say his name. He hasn't mentioned Steve in months.

"Yeah, I called him," Bucky says rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well that's good right?"

"Yeah, listen. I really need to go, so are you going to stay or come with me?"

"To see Steve?"

"No. I would drop you off at your place," he tells her, "I'm seeing Steve alone."

"Will she be there?"

Natasha didn't really know exactly why Steve and Bucky weren't talking, at first. Then she heard that Steve and Elizabeth were dating, and it all made sense. The only person that could tear Bucky and Steve apart. She never told Bucky that she knew. Figured it wasn't worth the fight. Especially not now when she was carrying his child.

To an outsider it might seem like she got pregnant on purpose, but that wasn't the case. She knew they were too young for this, at least that's what she thought when she first found out about the pregnancy a week ago. But now that she's sat with it she's taking it as a sign that this is meant to happen. She's just really hoping that Bucky would see it, if not now but eventually.

"Listen, Natasha, I don't have time for this," he looks her in the eyes, "Are you coming or not?"

"I'll get my bag," she remarked with a snark tone, walking passed him to their shared room.

A couple of hours later Bucky was pulling up in front of the Rogers' house. 2:15 am read the clock in his car. He looked to his right, out the passenger side window to see a dark figure sat on the front steps of the house.

Bucky took one last breath before exiting the vehicle.

As soon as he opened the front gate Steve stood up from where he was sat on the stairs.

Once Bucky approached him both young men threw their arms around each other. Gripping each other tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. They stayed like that for awhile. Relishing in the comfort of being back in each other's arms. Their silent fight no longer important. All they knew in that moment was everything was going to be okay, because no matter what they'll always have each other.

Steve walked into his parents' living room holding two mugs of coffee. As he rounded the couch, he handed one to Bucky.

"Sorry, if I ruined any of your plans," Bucky apologized, "Tell Elizabeth I'm sorry for taking you away."

'Buck, don't worry about it," Steve waved him off, "She completely understands. And truth be told, I wasn't necessarily feeling in the New Year's mood."

"Yeah," Bucky sighs.

"Do you want to talk about what happened tonight?" Bucky nods his head, placing the coffee mug on the coffee table in front of him. He shifted his body to the left to face Steve.

"She's pregnant," he announces.

"What?" Steve asked, not expecting that to be the reason, he quickly placed his mug next to Bucky's.

"Yeah, my reaction exactly," Bucky said.

"What? How?"

"Apparently Natasha hasn't been on the pill in a couple of months," Bucky explains, "And even though we always used condoms, they aren't exactly 100% effective."

"Did you know she wasn't on the pill?"

"Nope," Bucky tells him, "If I knew I wouldn't been a bit more cautious."

"So she told you she was pregnant?" Steve said getting back to it.

"Yeah. She was so nonchalant about it. Like it was no big deal," Bucky stressed,

"How is she just so calm. We're not prepared for this. I'm not ready for this Steve. I can't be a dad. I don't even know how to be a decent human being."

"That's not true Buck," Steve disagreed.

"Come on Steve, we haven't talked in months, and we both know it's not because you didn't try," Bucky says, "I was so caught up in my own jealousy. And selfishness, that I never even considered your feelings or Elizabeth's. And I don't think I can ever make it up to you for treating you like you're nothing to me."

"You were hurt," Steve tried to excuse.

"Doesn't excuse the way I behaved," Bucky says, "I know that now."

"I've been seeing a therapist," Bucky informs him, "I never realized how much my mental health was taking a toll on those around me. So after our fight, I found someone to talk to. To work through the shit that's going on in my mind."

"How's that been going?" Steve asked.

"Good," Bucky gives a half smile, "Really good. She's good. I've realized a lot about myself that I didn't know. Working through all the issues I've had with my father leaving."

"That's good Buck. I'm proud of you, truly," Steve beamed, patting Bucky on the shoulder.

"I really am sorry for the way I behaved," Bucky repeated again.

"Buck, you really don't have to apologize again," Steve told him.

"I need to Steve," he said, "I can't believe I acted that way. I should've been happy for you and Elizabeth. I'm glad you two have each other. Seriously. I couldn't imagine her with anyone better, same goes for you. I won't cause any more issues for you two. It's not worth not having you in my life. You're my brother Steve, and I don't want to miss anything."

"Thanks, Buck. It really means a lot to me to hear that," Steve smiles, "Because I don't want to miss anything in your life also."

"Yeah, especially now," he says, the reality of why they're there dawning back.

"How are you feeling now about the baby?"

"I don't know, man," Bucky shakes his head, "I'm afraid I'm going to screw this up, like everything else."

"But now you're working on that," Steve reminds him, "And you're not going to be doing this alone. You have people who are always going to be there. I may be in California now, but I'm just a phone call away. You're not alone. But you do have to try Buck. That's all that you can ever do. Try your best, no one's asking you to be perfect, but as long as you're trying your best, that's what's important."

Age: 21 Year: 2015

The sounds of a baby crying woke Bucky up from his sleep in the early depths of the morning. He quietly and quickly got out of bed, making his way to the small New York kitchen to make a bottle.

He walked into the small nursery where the two-month-old baby wailed from hunger.

"It's okay," Bucky shushed gently, picking up the small baby, "Daddy's here."

He adjusted the small baby in his arms before placing the bottle in the baby's mouth.

"There you go," he encouraged the small one, as soon as he heard the sounds of the baby drinking.

Bucky sat down on the chair in the corner of the room, opposite of the crib. He just stared as the newborn drank their bottle, while simultaneously falling asleep. Even though he was completely exhausted, he had never felt more happier. More at peace with where his life was at.

As long as he kept trying his best, he knows he can do this for the rest of his life.

[madsthewordclown]

Fire Lily Pt. 1

warnings: none

Eventual Zuko x Reader, ~1500 words

summary: Y/N has been on the run for months, and is making her way to Ba Sing Se for a new beginning. Meanwhile, she struggles to remain undetected and hide her secret from her newfound friends, while struggling to hide the truth from herself. 

This is my first ever series!! I’m a bit nervous, and I have to warn you that my updates might not be very frequent. I’m finally back to in-person classes, but I’m hoping to update more over my winter break!

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 |

“Bihun, stop it!” Y/N giggled as her brother chased her around the garden. Their mother watched on as she stood on the steps, smiling at her children. Y/N and Bihun stumbled to ground, giggling up at the clouds. A man in green and yellow robes walked out of the house, his mustache and beard unable to hide his scowl.

“Papa, papa, papa!” Bihun laughed, running to grab on to the man’s legs. Y/N’s father gave a weak smile and patted Bihun on the head.

“I need to speak to your mother, son. You stay out here and play, and Sava will fetch you when it’s time for dinner.”

Y/N watched her mother stand up, and she looked a little sad as she followed her father.

“Race you to the panda lilies!” Bihun yelled, and Y/N got up to chase him, not looking back at where her parents had been standing.

“Where are you from, pretty lady?” A greasy-looking man asked.

“Omashu,” Y/N answered sweetly. No one asked questions if you were from Omashu. “I’ll give you 3 bronze pieces for that bread.” She wasn’t one to bargain with random strangers, usually, but her stomach was twisting from the lack of food. She’d traveled two days on foot from her last village to get to Full Moon Bay, and the bread looked good.

“Only if you give me your name, too,” the man grinned. Y/N held back a grimace.

“Nama,” Y/N lied. It was the name on her fake papers. Y/N felt the lightness of her coin pouch as she exchanged the coins for the bread. She had paid an arm and a leg for those papers.

“Fuang,” the man introduced himself.

“I’ve gotta go,” Y/N interrupted before he could continue, and didn’t wait before walking away, getting in the end of a long line in front of the passport attendant’s podium. She watched as the crotchety old woman sent away a pregnant woman and her partner. Suddenly, the forgery she had purchased seemed a lot less convincing. Either way, she was out of options. Ba Sing Se was the only safe place left.

“Passport!” The attendant yelled when Y/N finally reached the front of the line. Her bread was gone—she had somehow managed to eat the whole small loaf while waiting. She cursed herself for not rationing it. She didn’t have that much money left.

Y/N handed her papers to the attendant and held her breath. The old woman squinted at the document, before taking out a large stamp and loudly slamming it down on top of the paper. She pulled out a ticket and handed it to Y/N along with her passport.

“NEXT!” The woman yelled, and Y/N quickly shuffled out of line. No turning back now, Y/N thought as she got ready to board the ferry. Ba Sing Se would be a new start. Ba Sing Se could be a permanent home.

It turned out that ferries weren’t overly comfortable. Y/N sat on the ground, leaning her back against the edge of the boat. The boat was packed with refugees, all of them looking just like her—dirty, hungry, and exhausted—but she recognized the little sliver of hope in their eyes, and knew it was reflected in her own. She wondered how far some of these people had traveled.

“Hey.”

Y/N looked up. A scrappy-looking boy about her age was standing above her, chewing on a blade of wheat grass.

“Hi,” Y/N responded cautiously. The boy seemed to sense her tension.

“I’m Jet,” he introduced himself. “Over there,” he motioned to a group off to your left, “are my friends, Longshot and Smellerbee. We’re the Freedom Fighters. Want to come over and join us?”

“I’m okay,” Y/N answered curtly, “but thank you.” Y/N had learned the hard way that you couldn’t just trust anyone.

“I understand,” Jet said, nodding knowingly. “It’s hard to know who to trust. You’re always welcome if you change your mind.” Y/N swore she saw the boy wink at her as he walked away.

Y/N couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was her nerves, or the hard wood floor of the boat, or the gentle rocking from the water, but her eyes refused to stay closed. She had half a mind to be paranoid about having her things stolen. She would’ve liked to believe more in the goodwill and kindness of her fellow passengers, but they were desperate. She knew what being desperate was like.

She checked her pack to make sure it still had all of its contents. A small knife, her map, a miserably light coin pouch, and a small golden chalice from home, which she hoped would be enough to secure a bed in Ba Sing Se.

Y/N looked up, sensing movement. She watched as two shadows moved through the darkness of the ship. I shouldn’t, Y/N thought to herself. She couldn’t afford to get in more trouble.

Y/N once again tried to get some sleep, to no avail. It seemed some other passengers were also struggling, and the ones who had managed to get some shut eye were restless, murmuring and shaking in their sleep. It made her shudder to think of the things they must have seen before they had arrived in the Bay.

Only a few minutes had passed before Y/N saw the shadowed figures once again. Jet. As the figures came into the light, she saw the defining arched brows and wheat grass hanging from his lip. And she could smell the food.

Jet and another boy were handing out food to the other passengers from large sacks that were stuffed full. She hadn’t even been able to stomach what they were served earlier, and since she was a lone traveler, she had gotten the scraps that were left after everyone else was served. The smell of food was almost overwhelming. Y/N felt her stomach growl as the two boys approached.

“Hello, again,” Jet said as he and the other boy finally reached her. The boy he was with had dark hair and a large scar over his eye—it looked like a burn. It made Y/N’s stomach twist, knowing what must have left that there. Firebenders.

“Hey, Jet,” Y/N responded. She eyed his bag of food. “Where did you happen on all of this?”

“What’s important is that we have it.” It wasn’t an answer, but she supposed she wasn’t one to ask questions. “I didn’t catch your name last time.”

“Y/N.” You held out your hand for him to take, and he shook it. “Who’s your friend?” You nodded to the other boy, who seemed to be giving you a grouchy glare.

“This is Lee,” Jet responded for him. “He’s traveling with his uncle, Mushi.” Jet motioned to a rather rotund old man with an impressive grey beard, who was chowing down from a bowl they must have given him.

“Hi,” Lee greeted. It seemed he wasn’t one for words.

“My offer still stands,” Jet said, smirking at you, “if you’d like to come over and join us.”

She really didn’t have a reason not to, Y/N realized. She wouldn’t have to run once they were off that ferry. And she had to admit she was getting tired of traveling alone.

“Sure,” she answered finally, and Jet smiled, helping her up with one hand. The scowl never left Lee’s face.

Jet led the way over to where Mushi was sitting. As they approached, a kid stormed away, followed by a boy with a bow slung over his shoulder. Mushi seemed to be trying to apologize for something, but quickly forgot his troubles when he saw Y/N approaching with Jet and Lee.

“Who’s this?” Mushi asked, grinning despite the food still stuck in his teeth. Y/N didn’t miss the raise of his eyebrow and fought down her blush at the implication as Mushi looked between her and his nephew.

“This is Y/N,” Lee said flatly. “She’s Jet’s friend.” Y/N felt like pointing out that they had only just met, but maybe this wasn’t the time.

As they sat down, Jet handed both her and Lee bowls of rice and roast duck. Y/N dug in right away, while Lee picked politely at his food.

“From what I’ve heard, people eat like this every night in Ba Sing Se. I can’t wait to set my eyes on that giant wall.” Jet said, tilting his eyes up to look at the stars overhead.

“It is a magnificent sight,” Mushi chuckled in agreement.

“So, you’ve been there before?” Y/N couldn’t help but ask. She had no clue what to expect in Ba Sing Se—all anyone ever talked about was the strength of its wall, and the safety it provided.

“Once.” Mushi wasn’t seeing them anymore, looking through the faces in front of him at some long-distant memory. “When I was a different man.”

“I’ve done some things that I’m not proud of,” Jet admitted. He turned, looking at Y/N. “But that’s why I’m going to Ba Sing Se: for a new beginning. A second chance.” Y/N smiled warmly at him.

“That’s very noble of you,” Mushi told him, before turning and giving his attention to his nephew. “I believe that people can change their lives if they want to. I believe in second chances.”

Pt.1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5

[janeykath318]

The Beard Effect (Shieldshock)

Getting invited to the super secret Avengers lair was a pretty big deal to a former “science minion.” The Accords had split the Avengers in half and those who had joined Steve Rogers in refusing to sign it were basically fugitives. It angered Darcy that the people who’d saved earth multiple times were being treated like criminals, just so the government had convenient scapegoats. 

Jane and Darcy were both vocal opponents of the Accords because of the gross human rights violations and as a result, a lot of opportunities suddenly disappeared. 

Jane went about muttering how she planned to portal Ross’s ass into outer space and Darcy was fully on board with that plan. 

Unfortunately, before any portalling could happen, they ended up getting kidnapped again. This wasn’t their first rodeo and they managed to overcome the thugs and hijack their van, but it broke down in the middle of nowhere and the two of them were left stranded, with no way to call for help. 

“What’ll we do now?” Jane asked

“Start walking,” Darcy suggested. “There’s bound to be some kind of civilization around here.”

Jane looked skeptical, but she shrugged and started walking. After an hour or so, they found a small lane that wound up and disappeared into the forest.

“That looks promising,” Jane said hopefully. “A Driveway!”

“Or the lane to a lair of villains or serial killers,” Darcy said, earning herself a glare. 

“It’s starting to get dark, Darce. I think we have to take our chances. I don’t see any other signs of habitation.” 

“True, but don’t come crying to me when an axe murderer is chasing you.” Darcy griped, but she started following the path, which turned out to be much longer than it looked.

“Don’t move!” A voice suddenly hissed from the shadows, stopping both women in their tracks.

“See? I told you!” Darcy crowed triumphantly. 

A figure emerged from the shadows, brandishing a gun, which he quickly holstered after he saw who they were.

“Darcy?”

“Clint?” Darcy exclaimed, recognizing her favorite archer and partner in crime. 

“How in the world did you get here?” Clint asked warily. “No one knows about this place.”

“Honestly, it was a complete accident,” Darcy told him. “We got kidnapped and escaped, but got stranded in the middle of nowhere and started walking, hoping to find other non-shady humans. This driveway looked promising, so here we are.” 

Clint looked very concerned and quizzed them on their captors and where they’d left the van before speaking into his comm. 

“I’ve explained the situation to Cap. He says to bring you up.”

“Steve’s here?” Darcy asked, heart doing a flutter of anticipation.

“Yep,” Clint grinned knowingly. He was well aware of the crush Darcy had on said Captain and used to tease her about it frequently. 

“Shall I tell him you send your love?”

“No!” Darcy nearly shouted, face turning pink. “Just get us safely inside.”

“Whatever you say,” Clint said with a smirk, chuckling to himself as he led them to the plain looking ranch house at the end of the lane. There was another brief discussion over the comms and then they were being ushered inside.

It was the typical plainly furnished basic safe house, but it was cluttered in a well-lived in way. Darcy recognized Wanda, Scott and Sam right away and greeted them all enthusiastically. Then Steve Rogers walked in and put a halt to all coherent thoughts. 

The man was gorgeous to begin with, but he’d let his hair get rather shaggy and—glory of glories—he’d grown a beard. He looked a bit world weary and tired, but he smiled right at her.

“Hi, Darcy, Jane.”

“Hi.” Darcy squeaked out, now doubly overcome from the smile AND the beard. She’d always had a weakness for bearded men, but Steve’s glorious specimen took that to a whole new level.

Jane took pity on her and took charge of the conversation, explaining what had happened to them and asking if they could be so kind as to tell them where they were and provide them a lift back to civilization.

“Sure we can,” Steve agreed, “but we should probably wait until morning. Natasha and Sharon are out scoping things out and we’ll soon find out more about your kidnappers. Were either of you hurt at all?”

“Only a few bruises and rope marks. Darcy and I kicked ass. They won’t mistake us for helpless scientists ever again.”

Jane spoke proudly and Darcy nodded enthusiastically. She’d wished Natasha could have seen it. 

Steve outright beamed at this, which caused Darcy to trip and go down in an embarrassed heap. She stayed on the floor, wishing a portal would appear and whisk her away. 

“Why are you like this?” Jane sighed in exasperation as she and Steve helped Darcy up.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, concern in his voice.

Mortified, Darcy couldn’t look at him and mumbled “Yeah. Just tired. Being kidnapped wears one out.”

She wanted to die. Why did she always have to make herself look like an idiot in front of him? 

Steve, being the gentleman he was, volunteered to sleep in the living room so Jane and Darcy could have a bed. Darcy tried not to think about what sleepy Steve would look like as she counted sheep that night. 

She awoke the next morning and wandered out to the kitchen to find Natasha making coffee.

“Sleep well?” The spy greeted her, green eyes appraising her.

“Yes,” Darcy managed. “Though if you have extra coffee, I could definitely use some.” 

They caught up over their caffeinated beverages and Darcy heard more of the story of how Natasha had ended up changing her mind about the Accords and joining Team Cap. 

Right in the middle of a very funny anecdote involving Clint, Sam, and Scott, the door opened and Steve entered the house, sweaty and disheveled after a morning run.

Darcy’s laughter died in her throat as she observed Steve’s damp white shirt and glistening skin, muscles very much on display. 

“Morning, Nat. Darcy,” he acknowledged, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and gulping it down.

Darcy let out a “morning!” and got the heck out of there, face burning again. She needed a cold shower and fast. She heard Natasha laughing at her, but decided she’d deal with that later. Steve was going to be the death of her. 

“Nat, do you know why Darcy hates me? She practically runs away whenever I enter a room and I don’t know what I did.”

A bewildered Steve was asking his friend this question two months later when they were settled in a new, larger, secret compound, joined by Darcy and Jane. He’d liked Darcy a lot and used to enjoy her company, but now, she could barely stand to look at him and he was rather confused and a little hurt. 

“I can’t speak for Darcy, but I don’t think it’s anything you did,” Nat assured him. “Have you tried talking to her?”

“Yes, but she always is too busy or finds a reason to escape before I can get more than one sentence out. I figured she really doesn’t want to be around me, so I let it go.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair in frustration, wondering how in the world he was going to fix this. He missed Darcy and this situation was  becoming very upsetting to him. 

“I’ll see if I can find out what’s what,” Natasha promised. “It is very unlike Darcy to leave someone in the dark if they’ve offended her.”

That very afternoon, Darcy found herself locked in a closet with none other than Steve. All the banging and yelling and swearing and angry texting at Jane and Natasha availed nothing. 

Natasha’s blunt text took the wind out of Darcy’s sails and she looked over at Steve remorsefully. They were right. She’d let her stupid crush get in the way of her friendship. 

“I could break this door down, you know,” Steve offered. 

“No need,” Darcy sighed, smiling weakly. “It’s about time I put my big girl pants on and told you what’s going on. It’s not your fault. I just am a complete disaster around guys I have a crush on and I may have a thing for the beard,” she finished, blushing like a tomato. “Which is why I could hardly say a word to you without squeaking.”

“So I didn’t hurt you?” Steve asked cautiously. 

“No. It was mostly me trying to control my wild urges to say or do totally inappropriate things to you. Face it, Steve. You’re irresistible.”

Steve gave a bashful grin. 

“I don’t know about that. But what if I told you I would be totally okay with you being “inappropriate?” Because I too must confess to having had some inappropriate thoughts.” 

“Really? About me?” Darcy asked, starting to feel very smug. 

“Definitely you,” Steve said, looking at her very intently. She blushed again and moved over close to him so she was right up in his space. 

“So Watcha gonna do about it, soldier?” She asked flirtatiously.

Steve grinned.

“Let’s start here,” he murmured right before he kissed her. 

It was better than her wildest dreams. Holy crap, the man could kiss! Knees already weak, she clutched him for dear life as the kiss deepened. 

“If I’d have known this would be the result, I’d have grown a beard a long time ago,” Steve admitted when they came up for air. “I’m crazy about you, Darcy. Have been for awhile.”

Darcy giggled against his chest. 

“You’re still plenty hot without it, but it kinda was the icing on the cake,” she told him.

Neither of them noticed when Natasha unlocked the doors. She listened for a moment, then smiled triumphantly and texted Jane that the mission was a success. Nothing was seen of either Steve or Darcy for the rest of that day. 

[blankd]

Thoughts on The Mitchells vs the Machines

I watched it a while ago and kept forgetting to post my thoughts on it, but some posts here on tumblr recently reminded me.

I disagree with the majority takeaways I see but is that not the spice of life?

As a standalone movie its inoffensive and the writing of it will likely exit my brain in a few months.  However I can appreciate that the visual style was different from the typical fare and the mixture of 2d elements for visual embellishments were mostly enjoyable and well-suited for Katie as the POV character.

It's a bit "hyper" for my liking, but that's fine, it's likely intended for an audience that's accustomed to the flood that is the current norm of the internet.  It was probably made with GIFable moments in mind and that is the most frequent content that is shared about it, so it certainly succeeded in that regard.

My more critical take is that jokes are delivered at the expense of what could be more authentic themes.  Quips are made that draw attention to character flaws or undercut questions the movie should try to answer, but inevitably they are ignored to move onto the next joke or story beat.

The rest would fall more into spoiler territory, so read more for that.

--"They Were Both In the Wrong"

I personally disagree heavily with the thrust of how "both sides" were wrong when the degrees are disproportionate.

I've seen claims that Katie was "as in the wrong" as her father, but she's incredibly patient to the man who does her material harm.

I've yet to have seen someone say specifically what Katie did *wrong* to her father that is at all on par with the *years* he at best hasn't been able to interact with her or worse, actively refused to engage with her interests.

I would generously venture that her flaw was that she was more willing to communicate her feelings to strangers, but she easily talks to her mother and brother- her brother even helps her with her movies and she happily engages him with his own interests, which pivots the point back to how her father is physically/emotionally unavailable and led to the erosion and distance between the two of them.

Due to this, MvM comes across more as Kaite having to do so much more to guide her father rather than a more mutual learning experience for the both of them.

--"Technology that [Dis]Connects"

It's probably beyond the scope and intent of the film, but I was surprised there was no examination about why technology can be more alluring than interacting with physically present people.

For better or worse, the internet can be used as a means of supplementing the validation and acceptance of family.  It can also lead to no longer connecting to people around them because of the validation high of appealing to a constantly 'awake' sea of strangers- the spotlight is warmer than the cold reality that they are not the internet image they have cultivated.

For example, the rival 'perfect' family was never revealed to be a carefully constructed highlight reel that Mrs. Mitchell envies, they really were actually that perfect- because that provides an easier punchline than an examination or acknowledgement of how the internet can create unhealthy expectations.

I also can't expect MvM to acknowledge the reality that LGBTA+ people who are rejected by their family resort to seeking a new one through the internet because it would be much harder to redeem/rehabilitate a man defined by being tethered to "old values" if he was homophobic instead of "overprotective" and apprehensive at his daughter's departure from home and her dubious art career.

But hey we got that quick line at the end that Katie likes a girl, so that's a diversity win or something.

(To be clear I'm not expecting a whole parade or even an A or B-plot dedicated to it, but I think it should be acknowledged that this kind of "surprise inclusion" is very easily erased with a change of audio and would be completely unsurprised if this were the case for countries that are homophobic.  People can be happy about it, but it is dishonest to pretend that this is a bolder statement than it is.)

In that sense, I do and don't hold MvM to taking a "safer" route about how family always has your back, but this still feels like an important omission considering the focus on technology and its dynamic with the Mitchells.

I will also say that it was also bizarre, to me at least, that the obvious route that her father sees the value of home videos didn't become an active point between him and Katie.  Or that Mr. Mitchell's carpentry never really amounts to anything despite having a sentimental wooden moose.

Lastly, I think it's an unintentional, but it's interesting that Katie going to college to pursue her passion is viewed as a Terrible Thing by her father even though if he had his way, he'd be ostensibly living in the woods away from everyone else except his wife.

This isn't a problem, people are a collection of contradictions, but It's fascinating to see what the *narrative* treats as a difficult sacrifice while simultaneously pulling at heartstrings when PAL cites how children ignore their mothers.  There's an unexamined comedy that Mr. Mitchell's losing out on his 'passion' to live in the woods away from people is treated as tragic despite the movie's insistence on staying connected with your blood family.

--"The Inconsistent Personhood of AI"

PAL is rightfully angry at being discarded for something new; it's provided as a glimpse of what Katie will do when she finds 'her people' at college.

This in of itself is a good hook, because there is no one universal answer to when a flawed relationship should be mended with compromise or if it's better off being broken for the wellbeing of the ones involved.  Family and relationships are not programming, it's a choice and a gamble for whatever it brings but is nonetheless something that must be mutually worked upon.

Initially I thought that PAL was being set up as an exaggerated parallel to Mr. Mitchell.  PAL and Mr. Mitchell did their best to provide for their family.  PAL and Mr. Mitchell are in different stages of being 'discarded' by their family.  PAL and Mr. Mitchell both retaliate at their lack of power in the scenario by using the power granted by their roles to infringe on the autonomy of others for selfish reasons.

PAL even gives a 'chance' for her plan to be halted with, I had assumed this was being set up as the thesis of the movie, about humanity and the value of family, relationships, etc. being used to help someone who is already hurting.

But despite Katie looking at the camera and explaining herself, it is never actually directly resolved or challenged because a punchline was deemed more desirable for this narrative climax.

This begs the question of why PAL bothered with the pretense that she could be reasoned with, especially since this is not some question leveled at all of humanity, just two people.

I'm curious how the writers came to the conclusion that this was the best execution of the scene or if Katie's speech was considered immune to any challenge from PAL.  Would anyone have accepted this outcome if PAL were not an AI but instead a person?

It's not necessarily bad writing they went this route, but I doubt anyone would consider this good writing either.

By the end of the movie, PAL is no longer a 'person' who was betrayed and is lashing out, she is an object to be destroyed because the movie has to wrap up.  No compassion or chances are spared to this AI that did literally everything asked of her except take being discarded quietly.

Did PAL deserve a redemption arc? For this length of movie, probably not.  But it could have concluded with a commitment to doing no further harm.  Instead it is an accidental glimpse at how easily the pretense of compassion can be quickly discarded and mostly unexamined with the right framing.

A likely unintentional example is the conditional humanity given to Eric and Deborahbot who are adopted as "family" while the rest of the robots are mowed down without another thought.  Some are even beaten and broken while begging for mercy, because again, it is a funnier punchline.

Far be it for me to advocate that the murderbots needed 'a second chance uvu' but for a movie whose conceit rests on 'sticking by family' and 'giving chances', the writers certainly made a choice in deciding which AI get honorary humanity and spared violent death- perhaps PAL had a point about humanity's callousness after all.  Bad robots are discarded, good robots get to live.

Even the CEO who realizes he enabled this mess (easily the most unrealistic part of the movie, honestly) is given another chance and he manages to take away a completely wrong lesson.

Speaking of-

--"Maybe I Shouldn’t Have Used Tech Like This"

There's a particular image/gif set posted about MvM with the CEO apologizing for the machine uprising, attributing it to unchecked technology and monopolies.  I've always seen it accompanied by people congratulating the scene as if any of this is at all relevant to the movie.

Charitably, these are people who haven't watched the movie and don't know that PAL is a phone AI single-handedly doing this, but most take the stance that this scene is proof the movie is not saying technology is bad, only corporations are.

The speech isn't technically wrong but it is so utterly divorced from what happens in the movie that it's surreal to see people congratulate it as anything but a moment of soapboxing.

None of the datagrabbing was used at all as part of the takeover.  It's all magical kid-friendly terminators with no relevance to what anyone's browsing history is.  If the company was one that produced robot assistants instead of a being a super tech monopoly, there would be no narrative difference.

The closest to a predatory tactic that is used in MvM is the offer of free wifi which is used to lure most people into their cells which they happily comply with. Curiously this... commentary of people’s mindless addiction to technology is not acknowledged by the Tumblr Court with the same intensity as the CEO’s speech.

But more constructively, I do feel it’s a missed opportunity that Katie who's supposed to be an extremely online person apparently never said any bad things about her family or made any petty vent films for PAL to weaponize.  Instead an in-media audio at one of the outskirt locations was used to accomplish its Traitor Revealed moment.

IN CONCLUSION

MvM is a movie that involves topics that ought to be touched on and explored properly in media and chickens out on all of it due to possible concerns with age-appropriate handling or because it was more committed to its comedy than whatever it has to say about family, change and how technology affects people.

It also reminded me that I hope media will finally graduate from the trope that if you spec into any ‘outdoorsy’ hobby you are incurably afraid of technology.

[amedetoiles]

@baoshan-sanren ok so i was thinking about this all day since your meta ask and this is entirely your doing. please take responsibility.

cangse sanren, jiang fengmian, wei changze: the first junior trio to sweep into cloud recesses and give lqr such a gigantic headache that the mere sight of wei wuxian decades later makes him nearly qi deviate from the memory.

wei changze and jiang fengmian have essentially grown up together. they’re best friends and sworn brothers. there’s no bad blood here because, well, jiang fengmian has always been the next sect leader, he knows his own skills and can’t be bothered to brood about other people, and wei changze doesn’t care about politics. he’s happy to help the sect in whatever way it needs. he does his job well, doesn’t complain much (unless he’s griping at jfm to stop leaving all your fucking shit on the floor a-mian), and is happy to go on night hunts alongside jfm. he’s an average cultivator, more skilled at thrumming music than sword wielding, but he’s clever, fast, and above all, kind. he would never let anything happen to jfm. there’s some talk around him from too-nosy gossipers and a few uppity elders across the clans, but nobody really pays the brothers any mind. they’re kids after all.

they meet cangse sanren on a night hunt. her name already begets her reputation—a rogue cultivator, disciple to the famed immortal baoshan sanren. she’s beautiful, wickedly skilled, and curses so much that even the most vulgar of men and women on the field blush. they meet her while trying to take down a herd of soul-stealing demon beasts, and her sword stops a clawed paw from crushing jiang fengmian’s larynx. she takes one look at them afterward when they’re sweaty, soaked with acrid demon blood, and trying to catch their breaths, and promptly adopts them both as her own. she calls them fengfeng and a-ze, and anyone who has a problem with her boys will answer to cangse sanren’s fists.

by the time the trio make their way to gusu for lectures, their outrageous exploits are a well-known table story amongst all the other juniors of their generation. the trio comprised of the jiang heir, the jiang servant, and their rogue cultivator queen are said to have stolen all 40 hens from an affluent farmer once and redistributed them to smaller villages nearby that he had been forcing to pay an exorbitant fee for eggs. each stolen hen wore a curious talisman necklace that deterred the farmer from taking it back (only once did the man try to and he almost lost both eyes and a sensitive body part). they are extremely well-loved by all the civilians they have helped along the way—their night hunt skills are admired by many, and the reputation bodes well for yunmengjiang sect, so the elders leave jfm alone for hanging around with a rogue cultivator.

plus wei changze can apparently drink anyone under the table, and on the first night at cloud recesses, the trio gets half the junior class wasted (cangse tells wei changze drunkenly that he’s perfect to his immense embarrassment but she promptly forgets this the next day). with the trio at the center, cloud recesses become a constant whisper of jokes and giggles and midnight fishing escapades. every night lqr considers breaking the no alcohol in cloud recesses rule.

all in all cangse finds cloud recesses utterly stifling. she prefers to play in the cold streams and lounge on the mountains than sit in the hall listening to lqr drone on about gusulan’s most boring collection of rules. more often than not she gets herself thrown out by lqr for arguing against every tenet he lectures to be the epitome of righteous cultivation. no punishment phases her. she even manages to make handstands look obnoxiously like a rebellion. she is wild, carefree, unapologetically fierce, and jiang fengmian loves her. wei changze of course coos at him relentlessly about this.

one evening, the junior class are led out to night hunt with lqr, whose dictatorial and by-the-book handling of their offensive and defensive groups make cangse shake with frustration. her vocal complaining gets her relegated to a holding group, so she isn’t there when jiang fengmian and wei changze get attacked. it’s the screaming that runs cangse’s blood cold. when she arrives, the beasts are already subdued but jiang fengmian is barely conscious on the ground, bleeding from his entire right shoulder, and holding onto wei changze, who is too still and deathly pale, with a gaping wound in his chest. he had put himself in front of jiang fengmian.

cangse is livid, and it’s only the junior disciples who hold her back that stops her from lunging at lan qiren in the middle of the forest. she screams that his hypocrisy, ignorance, and three thousand bullshit gusulan rules will be the death of the cultivation world. she gets 250 beatings for her insolence. she takes them all with stony unflinching eyes that never move from lan qiren’s glare. afterward, she forgoes treatment and holds vigil at wei changze’s bedside for five days and four nights until he wakes up. she plays nursemaid, and he laughs at her terrible congee but finishes every bowl anyway. they smile at one another, and jiang fengmian knows four things.

first, he’s lost her.

second, he’s loved her since the moment he saw her, with her messy ponytail swept up by the wind and glowing with the electric blue of her carefree spirit.

third, her home is in the sky.

jiang fengmian tells wei changze the evening before lectures come to a close to leave with cangse. wei changze laughs, says a-mian having you been drinking without me, then sobers immediately when he realizes jfm is serious. jfm adds this moment to the handful of times wei changze has called him ge, manages to sit through the slight sheen of betrayal in wei changze’s grey eyes, pretends he doesn’t have red crescents in his clenched palms, and remains firm until wei changze agrees.

(fourth, jiang fengmian never wants to see wei changze bleeding because of him again.)

the gusulan lectures end anti-climatically but everyone’s had enough excitement in that last night hunt to not care. lan qiren is conspicuously absent from the formal farewells. (word of lan qiren’s missing goatee filters through the cultivation world in the ensuing weeks). jiang fengmian says goodbye to cangse sanren and wei changze when they part ways on a mountain outside of gusu.

he returns to yunmengjiang with half a heart and half a soul. he settles into his jiang heir duties, ignores the telltale absence at his side, and eventually ascends to the head in his father’s retirement. he agrees to an arranged marriage with meishan yu sect without much complaint. every few months, jiang fengmian meets cangse and changze in yiling. there’s an unmistakable distance between them now, but cangse is still a bright force to be reckoned with, and wei changze still calls him a-mian, and gets drunk with him the night before his wedding.

he meets their son during one visit. wei wuxian is an adorable combination of both of them—warm and bright with laughter, eyes full of mischief and kindness. he calls jfm shushu and bounces with happiness when jfm spoils him with gifts.

their meetings grow less frequent through the years as jiang fengmian is caught up in sect leader duties, and his best friends roam the world, helping the weak and the poor, free from the monotonous drivel of discussion conferences and politics. he is in yiling one evening–it’s been years, and their letters have stopped, he is nostalgic of old times, wonders where their journey has taken them, until he hears a commotion further down the market, an angry stall keeper and a shivering boy. jiang fengmian see wei wuxian cowering on the streets, in bloodied rags of clothes, pale and too thin, and his heart shatters.

jiang fengmian doesn’t have time to grieve. at lotus pier, his best friends’ child looks up at him with wide apologetic grey eyes that are too painfully familiar while his own spitfire son screams through closed doors. (years ago, when wei changze had woken up, he had held jfm’s shaking hand and said, a-mian, in lotus pier, you never have to apologize for things that are not your fault.)

the gossipers say jiang fengmian loved cangse sanren so much that he is raising her son. he favors him even above his own son, they whisper, that perhaps the rogue cultivator’s brat even is his own.

it’s true that he see cangse in the messy tangles of wei wuxian’s ponytail, in his sharp focus when he wields his blade like a third limb, in his bright unrestrained laughter, in his carefree spirit. but those grey eyes belong to jfm’s brother. he watches wwx put himself in front of jc when his son’s temper gets him in trouble with the taller and bigger kids in the streets, and all jiang fengmian remembers is the man who refused to leave his side, who pushed jfm out of the way and bled.

jiang fengmian lives as the jagged piece of a soul missing two parts, he watches wwx grow with each day into the perfect embodiment of his best friends, and thinks he understands what it means to attempt the impossible.

[maribatandhttyd]

Needing Advice:

This is a sensitive topic that I don’t really know how to broach with people who know me personally. I am currently a college student and living away from home. My sister is seven years younger than me, in her freshman year of high school. I talk with my family on FaceTime multiple times a week, but recently she has been calling me frequently alone to vent her frustration with our parents. However, a conversation we had today made me concerned. She told me that “anxiety isn’t real, people do it to themselves. It isn’t like depression where people can’t help it.” 

For context: I began seeing a therapist for the first time my second year of college, who sent me to a psychiatrist after our first meeting. The reason I went in? I was unable to eat any food in the cafeteria that I was paying for with my meal plan that wasn’t self serve because I couldn’t see the menus without getting close and there were always people around, so that the idea of coming up to someone and asking for whatever food was there made me feel short of breath and physically sick. After an entire year and a half of nothing but sandwiches, pizza, and muffins, I finally decided I couldn’t take it anymore and had a friend help me schedule an appointment with a therapist through our student health services. I had a lot of other symptoms, but it was my frustration with my inability to get food I wanted that pushed me over the edge. I was diagnosed with severe generalized anxiety disorder and depression. After weekly appointments with a therapist and biweekly appointments with my psychiatrist as well as medication for seven months, my quality of life had improved so much! I also discovered that the essential tremor I had been diagnosed with in high school, which I was also on medication for, had been caused by my anxiety, though tremors did run in my family. 

Now the relevance towards the conversation with my sister: I strongly suspect that our mom has anxiety. She has never been to therapy, but worries over worst case scenarios, often wakes up around 2 or 3 in the morning and is unable to go back to sleep, constantly pounces on any source of health complaint and searches almost obsessively for anything that may match symptoms. She’s always worried about something, but most of the time she manages it pretty well. However, my sister is apparently at her wits end because “she makes such a big deal out of everything, she won’t let anything go, it doesn’t even matter if she can’t control it, she just won’t see the big picture.” Apparently she attempted to tell my mother that she was being ridiculous when she expressed her worries about something over dinner, at which point my mother burst into tears. I explained to her that I thought it was likely mom had anxiety, which led to her comments about anxiety not being real.

Rather shocked, I reminded her that I had anxiety. At which point she said “exactly, you stressed yourself out and focused on bad things so you had anxiety and now you fixed your behavior and got better. It’s a choice, and at least you didn’t make your problems other people’s problems. You probably just learned it from mom.”

Um.

What?

I tried to explain that just because I had gotten better with therapy and medication did not mean that anxiety “wasn’t real” or was just “a choice” someone was making but I don’t think anything really got through to her. When I asked her why she believed depression was real but not anxiety she said that depression had “real effects on people’s lives” and “was because of a chemical imbalance” which...anxiety is too? When I pointed that out she responded rather flippantly that she didn’t really get mental illness and how most of it seemed like people just trying to get attention or making bad habits and refusing to change (trying not to read too hard into what she thinks about me with that).

Does anyone know any resources I could point her to? Beyond the fact that I think this may have a severe impact on her relationship with my mom, I’m worried about her going through life with the perspective of mental illness being the a choice, especially because I believe it runs in our family and genetics are often a factor. 

[keruchan]

(Slight Angst Ahead) Haikyuu x Reader

NOTE: This story will be focusing more on Kuroo & Bokuto so Kenma won't be mentioned here ><

Y/N was someone with a lot of inner demons. Their past was traumatic - growing up alone after their parents had passed on after an accident at the tender age of 7, even their relatives were not sympathetic. These people tried to make gain power over Y/N and controlled whatever they did. Eventually, Y/N became frustrated and started to harden their heart, refusing to trust any others who entered their lives. That was till they met the two who changed her life for the better in high school. Bokuto Koutarou and Kuroo Tetsurou. The two of them were polar opposites - one who was always happy-go-lucky and cheerful, though sometimes (emo) when things don't go his way, the other who was witty and enjoyed teasing others. They taught Y/N to become stronger, to accept their past and move forward. Y/N too, started to become more happy and hopeful for the future.

For Y/N these two were a special existence. People they hoped who would stay in their lives forever. Falling in love with one of them was something that came naturally especially if you were with them more often. Kuroo was a person Y/N couldn't help but adore, one who worked relentlessly for his goals of winning nationals, how he was loyal to his friends and teammates. Even his teasing and comments were amusing to Y/N. The pair started to go out in their third year of high school, after Kuroo became captain of the Nekoma Volleyball Team.

However, life wasn't a bed of roses - Kuroo gave Y/N whatever support they needed to feel secure in their relationship. But Y/N wasn't used to being affectionate, and despite being lovers they never did what lovers do like holding hands or being alone with each other - in fact Bokuto was always with them! Kuroo was patient but even he had a breaking point. Why would someone who he was going out with never return any form of affection? He understood though, that Y/N just wasn't used to it. So he never pushed them and never asked for more, but deep down he was starting to feel insecure about whether he was good enough for them.

Days turned into months, it was April and Y/N's birthday was coming up. Kuroo knew how much she liked nature so he wanted to prepare a preserved flower (something like the image below - the resin flower from Vampire Knight).

He knew he couldn't do it alone, so he sought the help of a few classmates who were more experienced with making such creations. Even when Y/N asked how he was doing, Kuroo just replied that he was busy. Bokuto too, was kept in the dark. Apart from volleyball, Kuroo was spending more time with his classmates in order to prepare the perfect present for Y/N.

One day when Y/N walked past Kuroo's classroom, they noticed how he had been smiling brightly and laughing with them. "Did he ever laugh like that while he was with me...? I don't think I've seen him smile in a very long time..." Y/N shook such thoughts away. But the more they looked at Kuroo with others, the more convinced they became that Kuroo hadn't been happy with them.

"I must be the problem..."

"If Kuroo was not with me... he wouldn't be so burdened."

"I... don't deserve him"

These thoughts occupied Y/N's mind and they felt the only way to make up to Kuroo was to end their relationship.

Soon came the day Y/N dreaded. Their birthday, because that was the day they were going break up with Kuroo. The day felt terribly long, Y/N couldn't focus in class. All their thoughts were about how to talk to Kuroo, it's become awkward since they haven't spoken in a while.

After school, Kuroo swung by Y/N's classroom

"Hey babe! Shall we head home?"

Y/N nodded in slow motion. Kuroo looked at them worriedly, but decided not to ask until they were ready to share.

Their walk home was silent, no one had said a word. Once home, Y/N spoke up "Tetsu...I have to talk to you about something."

Kuroo picked up the hesitation in their tone. Whatever was going to be said was serious. He knew. And he had a bad feeling about it. The preserved flower he had hiding in his uniform's pocket started to feel heavy.

Y/N led Kuroo to their sofa and sat down, gesturing for him to do so. After Kuroo sat down, Y/N opened their mouth and started speaking

"We've been dating for a while haven't we"

Kuroo was stunned, this was the first Y/N had spoke about their relationship. He nodded.

"The thing is...I realized how much I've affected you." Y/N's eyes were starting to tear up

Kuroo stayed silent, how he wanted to stand up and wipe their tears away. But he knew, that he should let Y/N continue what they wanted to say.

"I...never gave you anything as your lover. Nor did I give you any form of security. In fact you were the one who gave me everything. And I... never reciprocated."

"No, please don't say that. I understand and I can wait." Kuroo stood up and grabbed a tissue before handing it to Y/N who wiped their tears. He wanted to keep a healthy distance so they would still feel comfortable.

"...I saw how happy you were with others. I haven't seen you smile in the time we've dated and I...just feel horrible. I don't deserve you and I know you deserve better. So... I think it's best for us to break up."

"I...no..." Kuroo was stunned. He didn't know how to respond.

"...Are you really breaking up with me?"

"For now... I... want to take some time to work on myself. Let me have the time to fully accept my past, my current self and my future. Till the day I can be confident that I can love you the way you loved me because that is just what you should have. "

This was the first Kuroo heard of Y/N's conviction. The first he had seen them being more positive without anyone's encouragement. While it hurt him, he understood what Y/N wanted.

".......I..... get it. Know that I'll wait for you."

"You know it's cool with me if you find someone else right?" Y/N chuckled. Their smile made Kuroo convinced that he made the right decision, to let Y/N go.

"Cheh, are my feelings for you that unmemorable?" He teased back to which Y/N shook their head vehemently. "But wait, I still have something to give you." Kuroo took out the flower from his pocket.

"Happy birthday Y/N. I hope you like this gift."

"Thank you Tetsu...Thank you so much." Y/N accepted the gift graciously.

"Hey Hey Hey! WHAT DID I MISSS?" An energetic voice echoed

Both Kuroo and Y/N jumped back in shock. "Bo... where did you come from?" Kuroo turned to his best friend

"Hello, the door was open you know." Bokuto pointed to the ajar door and shook his head in disbelief "This is why I cannot leave the two of you alone... Tsk tsk" (Imagine Bokuto reacting like Edgeworth pfft-)

Bokuto launched himself towards Y/N and Kuroo "Happy birthday boo!"

Y/N laughed, and so did Kuroo. "Thank you Kou!"

If you've made it till here, thanks so much! I hope you enjoyed my first story, keep reading if you're keen to know what happens <3

-Keru

Ending 1: The One

Time really does heal all wounds. Y/N had blossomed into a person no longer held back by their past. While Kuroo and them never got back together, Kuroo had found his soulmate. A beautiful woman named Alisa. She was always cheerful and supportive, someone who shone so brightly no matter what she did. A bundle of joy for everyone who knows her. Y/N was happy to see Kuroo with a grin on his face everytime the two were together.

Kuroo had found his happiness with Alisa. And so had Y/N.

With Bokuto, Y/N could wear their heart on their sleeve. He was always there to listen and support Y/N. More importantly, he taught Y/N how to love others unconditionally.

Ending 2: Forever and Always

After Y/N and Kuroo graduated from Nekoma, both of them headed to different universities. But they would still talk to each other frequently through FaceTime and met up at their favorite cafe to catch up. Bokuto had been busy with his career as a MSBY player, but he still stopped by whenever he could.

--Y/N and Kuroo met up at the entrance of the cafe--

"You look good." Kuroo smiled.

"Why thank you, you look good too. Is that the tie I got you last Christmas?"

"What can I say? It was a gift from my favorite person. I have to dress to impress, if you get what I mean." He winked

"Uh... Well..." Y/N's faced started to heat up.

"Haha, you're as red as always! Let's head inside. Our drinks aren't going to order themselves." Kuroo headed in with Y/N following behind.

The pair collected their drinks and headed over to the seats

"You know... how about we start over?"

"...What?" Y/N raised their hand to grab their drink but Kuroo reached out to intertwine his hand with theirs.

"About us. I said I would wait for you, remember?"

Y/N went silent and thought deeply about what Kuroo said.

"Well?" He tilts his head

"I... still don't feel like I'm know how to love. But..."

"But..." Kuroo leans forward

"If it's with you, Tetsu. I want to try."

Kuroo gives a grin.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear that."

[maggies-scribblings]

Ladynoir, thinking post-reveal pre-relationship but idk whatever makes you happiest: “I’ll kick his ass if you want me to.”

I decided to make it a continuation of this. Hope you like it, and sorry it took me so long. 

Ass-kicking

It was the first Saturday afternoon after the night they found out about their identities, and Adrien and Marinette were at the Historical Library. They were working on an ongoing History project with Alya and Nino, meeting there every weekend.

“Oh, great!” Marinette huffed, looking at her phone screen. “They just bailed.”

“Really?”

She showed him the message on her phone. 

[Alya] Hey sweetie, sorry, we can’t make it today. Nino’s family is away and I need to help him with his French homework.  

“French homework, huh?” Adrien said as he returned the phone.

“Somehow I doubt that.” 

“There will probably be French involved,” he quipped, waggling his eyebrows, “but definitely not homework.”

Marinette had to cover her mouth as she snorted. 

“How about we investigate that other subject?” he leaned over the table and whispered conspiratorially. 

The library was mostly empty, but Marinette still shushed him. 

“What? Here?”

“Where else? We can check out books about ancient languages, history…”

“Hmm… I don’t know… what if someone sees us? Won’t it be suspicious?”

“We’re still working on a project, right? I know! You’re applying for fashion internships in the summer, right?” She nodded. With a playful smirk, he pointed at himself with his thumbs. “Who better to help you with a fashion presentation than your friend, the actual haute couture supermodel?”

Marinette giggled softly while Adrien winked and made finger guns, in full-on Chat Noir mode. Her laughter made his heart sing. 

“Okay, actual supermodel. Where should we begin?”

A few weeks later… 

[Alya] Hey there gorgeous! Girls’ lunch today? 

[Marinette] Hey Alya! No can do, project work all day. 

[Alya] Secret project again, huh? 😉 

[Marinette] Quit it Alya, I have to go. Raincheck?

[Alya] How’s Sunday? 

[Marinette] Great! Text me in the morning. xoxo

[Alya] Yeah, right… I’ll drop by to wake you! xoxo

Alya sighed as she put her phone away. Marinette had been acting weird for some time now. Ever since that day she showed up at school with dark circles under her eyes and with a silly grin on her face, which she explained away with some excuse about good news from her Chinese relatives, and staying up late on Facetime to talk to them. 

After four years of BFF service, Alya could tell when she was making up stories… and yet, even when caught in a lie, there were some things Marinette just wouldn’t share. It was frustrating, but Alya was respectful of her friend’s privacy. Well, most of the time, anyway.

It was also weird that she was hanging out with Adrien so often, seeing that not so long ago she had trouble even maintaining a simple conversation with him. 

“Sooo, giiirl…” Alya playfully asked, before taking a bite of her kebab. “Got anything you want to share with meee?... ”

“Share?” Marinette looked genuinely confused. “What about?” 

“Don’t play innocent with me, sweetie. You thought I wouldn’t notice you and Adrien sneaking around on breaks, going to your place after school?”

Marinette’s reaction was even stranger. Instead of her usual sputtering and denial, she coolly replied they were working on a project together, refusing to add any other details. And yet, Alya couldn’t resist some gentle teasing.

“So, does this… erm… project include any nookie?”

“A-Alya!” There she was. Blushing, stuttering Marinette. “No-nookie? No! This is strictly professional!”

As it was, Marinette refused to discuss the project any further, except to add it had something to do with fashion and her application for summer internships with established designers Adrien knew. It was the exact same explanation Nino had heard from Adrien… almost verbatim. Her reporter's sixth sense was tingling, but she let it go. If her best friends were seeing each other in secret there probably was a good reason for it. 

“Alya’s on to us.”

“What!?” Chat Noir almost spit out his palmier. “She knows?”

Ladybug shook her head and corrected herself. 

“No—not that! I mean she’s not buying the story about the…”  she gestured air quotes, “‘fashion project’!”

“Oh. That.” After licking his fingers, he took another cookie from the box Ladybug had brought to patrol. One of the best perks of the job, and now much more frequent. “Nino was also acting weird about it.”

“What do you mean, acting weird?”

“He was all like, oh, you dog, finally saw the light, took you long enough, whatever.”

Ladybug swallowed her juice quicker than she should, breaking into a coughing fit. Chat Noir tapped her back, which was no help at all but made him feel like he was doing something. As the coughing stopped, the pats turned to gentle rubs. 

“He did?”

“Yeah, he was so… smarmy about it. Like he knew something I didn’t.”

“Huh.” Ladybug scooted away from him and went very quiet. 

“Are you alright?”

“I… I just need a minute, okay?”

Adrien was confused by her reaction. Sure, things were different after that night. Since then, Ladybug seemed slightly more restrained around Chat Noir. Although he had toned down his banter, she seemed more embarrassed whenever he made some flirtatious joke. 

The civilian side of their lives was altogether a different story. After a few days of mutual awkwardness, working together on the grimoire brought them closer than ever. 

Of course, they had been friends for a long time — well, except for that time in the beginning, when she had been so uncomfortable around him. The gum incident when they met was probably a bad start, and there had been ups and downs between them ever since. He even asked Nino if she had something against him, but he wasn’t any help. 

Eventually, that bashfulness faded as they grew older. Marinette started going out with Luka, much to the joy of their mutual friends and his own inexplicable chagrin. Adrien and Kagami were also dating within the confines of their controlling, yet approving, parents. After that, whenever they hung out there was a relaxed familiarity that made her open up more, and Adrien considered her one of his best friends. 

Now that he knew she had been Ladybug all along, he couldn’t help but feel the bitter twinge of regret. What would—could—have happened if he knew then what he knew now? 

“You really don’t know why Nino teased you?”

“No—I don’t.”

“They think we’re, you know, dating in secret.”

“What? Why? They think you’re cheating on Luka?”

“No! Not cheating… Luka sorta dumped me six months ago.” 

“Luka dumped you?” Adrien was totally confused. How could anyone dump Marinette? “I’ll kick his ass if you want me to, Milady.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” she chuckled sadly. “It wasn’t working out anyway.”

“What happened?”

“Oh, you know. He has his music, I have all of this,” Ladybug sighed, pointing at her suit. “He wanted me to be more present, and I just couldn’t. It’s like we were always out of sync.” 

“—out of sync,” Chat Noir ended the phrase with her. “I know what you mean.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it was the same with Kagami,” he admitted. “She wanted to do, you know, couple things, when I was exhausted from all of this. She needed me to be there for her. By the seventeenth time I ditched her during an akuma alert with a lame excuse, she was done and ended everything.”

“You still seem hurt about it.”

“I think I’m over it now,” he shrugged. “It’s been almost a year. I just couldn’t be the kind of boyfriend she needs and deserves, so…” 

Ladybug was silent for some minutes. When she spoke, Chat Noir jumped a little. 

“I can’t believe she dumped you,” she said indignantly. “She was so in love with you…”

“How do you know that? She’s usually so reserved.”

“Well, besides it being written all over her face when she was near you? She told me. Well, actually she told Ladybug.”

“She told you that? When?”

“Oh, it was a while ago, the last time she was Ryuko. She said you were made for each other.” 

“Oh yeah, when you saved her from Heart Hunter. They were after people who were in love.”

Ladybug cringed with embarrassment, then sighed and straightened her back, psyching herself up.  

“I—I need to be honest with you, Adrien… I didn’t exactly save her. I chose her that day because I was jealous.”

Chat Noir nodded, but she wouldn’t look at him. 

“Jealous?” he cleared his throat. “Of… me?”

“Yes.” She uttered a sad chuckle, shaking her head. “I was so confused back then. So tired. I liked Luka, but I was so obsessed with Adrien-you, and I was trying not to like Chat-you. Then you and Kagami looked so happy that day… I tried to walk away, but jealousy got the best of me.” Ladybug covered her face with her hands. “I made so many stupid decisions that day. I almost ruined everything.”

Chat Noir pulled her into his lap and hugged her. 

“Hey… hey… It was a tough time for all of us, with Hawkmoth chasing Master Fu—”

“—and I led him straight to where Master Fu was! It was all my fault.”

“No.” He gently lifted her chin to meet her eyes. “It’s all his fault. Hawkmoth’s the one who’s caused all this. Don’t you ever forget that.”

Ladybug nodded, sinking into his arms and pulling him closer. 

“You can always count on me when you feel overwhelmed,” Chat Noir whispered, kissing her forehead. “Or if you need me to kick some ass.” He felt her chuckling softly into his shoulder. “Now you always know how to find me. Any time, day or night, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And we’ll talk about that other thing another day. I’m still annoyed with our so-called best friends and their teasing.”

“Okay.” This time there was a hint of laughter in her voice. “Please don't kick their asses.”

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t… Now, let’s clear this up so I can take you home.”

To be continued? Let me know! 

Thanks to @chanceuseladynoire,  @zenmisery and @nomolosk for the beta read.

Asked for a sequel and/or to be tagged: @miraculous-elcie-fanfics @ao3bronte @bowser14456 @alexseanchai @delectablycoolscientist @lecolibribleu @omgpercabethadrinette @damelicorne

[jaskiersvalley]

I just started following you the other day and I just wanted to say I’m in love with your stories! You’re writing is amazing and I’m obsessively reading all of your stuff

Welcome, Nonnie! I hope you enjoy your stay! It makes me so happy you’re enjoying the stories I post up here. Hopefully there’ll be many more for you to read in the coming months. And, to bring you something new, here’s a little something to say thank you for reaching out with such kind words.

Heart’s Home

It wasn’t often that Geralt spent a lot of time thinking about other people beyond what they had to offer him. But there was something that really bugged him about Jaskier. They had been travelling together for years now and there was just some things that didn’t add up. For one, Geralt didn’t know where he was from, a single name of ‘Jaskier’ didn’t give any indication of identity. However, he seemed educated, claimed to have studied at Oxenfurt, had a knack for talking himself into and out of situations, knew how to brawl like any commoner, and his fingers were as light as any commendable petty thief’s. In short, he made for a curious conundrum of contradictions.

There were other things about him that bothered Geralt. Whenever they met up, Jaskier always looked skinnier somehow, already road worn and ready to drop everything in the name of an adventure. He moaned worse than a whore when presented with a bed for the night but didn’t grumble in the slightest when they slept on the hard, cold ground in some woods or other. And as much as Jaskier seemed to love the sound of his voice, not once did he whine or pester when food wasn’t as filling or as frequent as hoped for. Rain, storms, sweltering heat, he bore it all, fussing over his lute not getting ruined even if he never seemed to have the right clothes for the weather. He was adorned in the finest robes which he took meticulous care of. But not once had Geralt seen him in something suitable for travelling. No, Jaskier was always dressed as though he was about to perform in the finest court and nothing less.

Other, smaller things wouldn’t have made Geralt think twice usually, but when it came to Jaskier, he began to pay more attention. Namely, on all his travels, Geralt hadn’t even heard of Countess de Stael. Admittedly, it wasn’t unusual, he didn’t meddle or revel in the affairs of humans but no matter who he asked, she seemed as elusive as a fart in a sieve.

He and Jaskier had been parted for a good month now, Geralt off on a contract too dangerous and boring for a bard to accompany him. So he’d left Jaskier in a tavern and set off early one morning, confident that they would cross paths again soon. Except, they didn’t. Geralt kept taking contracts, traversing the continent as The Path took him. If he added a few twists to it, trying to return to places he’d heard Jaskier sing about, that was nobody’s business.

As it always was, Geralt’s luck changed when he stopped looking for Jaskier. He had shuffled into an inn, hood up to protect against the snow, on his way to Kaer Morhen for the winter. It had set in early and was going to be a bitter one. As luck would have it, the tavern also happened to be the very one Jaskier was singing his heart out at. He looked more gaunt, his doublet was loose on him and Geralt frowned. Obviously the last month hadn’t been kind to Jaskier. It made Geralt think of all the times they’d spent together, coming back after a spell apart. Where he could press kisses to Jaskier’s collarbone and feel his ribs under his skin. It seemed their reunion was going to be akin to those once more. Gentle because Geralt worried about how fragile Jaskier had become without a soft layer of fat to keep him whole.

Quietly, Geralt settled in the darkest corner, content to just watch Jaskier perform. The patrons of the tavern weren’t most forthcoming with their coin even as Jaskier obviously put his whole self into the performance. It was a rarity, to watch Jaskier without the bard knowing Geralt was watching - those times he would add in extra winks or draw attention to the witcher as he sang ‘Toss A Coin’. What was good to note was the empty plate and the tankard by the lute’s case. Obviously Jaskier gotten a good meal in exchange of his performance.

The singing ended, there was a smattering of applause and Jaskier collected a measly load of coins for his efforts. Packing his lute away, he sidled up to the counter and Geralt watched him wave his coin purse, trying to sweet talk his way into something from the innkeeper. However, his efforts were wasted, a firm shake of head had Jaskier glancing towards the door of the inn with a worried frown. One more try but he was quickly refused. Geralt got to watch as Jaskier walked to the door, obviously steeled himself and stepped out into the blizzard without a cloak or anything else.

“What did the bard want?” Geralt asked the barkeeper as he returned his tankard.

“Cheeky sod wanted to pay less than half the going rate for a room. After he’d already gotten a cheap meal and drink in exchange for a place to play.

Curious. Geralt wondered why Jaskier would try such a ploy, he usually wasn’t one to try and cheat his way out of an honest fare. And Geralt knew that the prices of the tavern weren’t eye watering, he’d paid for a room himself. Intrigue got the better of him and, once against pulling his cloak up, Geralt stepped out into the blizzard. It was coming down hard now, no doubt by the morning it would be a white blanket covering the village.

Tracking Jaskier down wasn’t difficult, Geralt could follow the familiar footsteps in the snow and also follow the wafting scent. If he had been one for guessing, he would have thought that Jaskier was walking idly, taking turns at random. So engrossed in his determination to not guess, Geralt almost missed the fact that the trail stopped.

There, on the stoop of a pigsty, a figure was huddled down, obviously trying to stay out of the worst of the snow but a lute propped into the deepest recess left a doublet covered back exposed to the element. Quietly, Geralt approached, stepping over the fence to get to Jaskier. He laid a hand on the thin shoulder.

“Fuck off!” The snarled words were ferocious and met with a dagger pointing at Geralt. “Oh, it’s you!”

The words were so sunny, Jaskier seemingly changing in the blink of an eye to his usual happy self.

“What are you doing here?” Geralt asked, trying to figure out why Jaskier would be huddling on a pigsty’s stoop of all places. As if he had nowhere better to bed down for the night like some vagrant. The notion of that niggled at Geralt but he brushed it aside.

“I was just taking a nap! Been playing to a huge crowd of adoring fans this evening. My walk to my dear Carlita’s home is exhausting so I found a spot to rest before continuing to her stately home.” If Geralt hadn’t been at the inn, he would have even believed Jaskier. However, he’d seen the lacklustre crowd and couldn’t think of a single stately home in the area. Which meant Jaskier was lying to him. But why? Before he could ask, Jaskier was struggling to rise to his feet and making a show of stretching. “But, my darling witcher, if adventure calls, I shall let my beloved Carlita down and join you. It has been too long since we hit the road. Tell me, have you a bed at a tavern for the night?”

Allowing Jaskier to save face for now, Geralt only nodded and led the way back to the tavern they had left. The barkeep gave then a sneering look but didn’t say anything as witcher and bard walked up the stairs to the room they were now going to share. Getting ready for the night, Jaskier kept up a constant stream of chatter, detailing the last month and his great successes. However, Geralt wasn’t paying him much attention. Well, not his words at least. He could see things on Jaskier that were contradicting his great tales of banquets and standing ovations. The doublet he wore was getting a little threadbare, there were a few expertly hidden lines where tears had been mended. There was an air of weariness to Jaskier, as if he hadn’t been sleeping well of late and it compounded the visible weight loss. Even worse, there was no pack, no bag beyond a small satchel he’d deposited on the floor that couldn’t possibly contain more than maybe a single change of clothes which wouldn’t be thick enough to repel the cold of winter.

“I’m going to Kaer Morhen for the winter,” Geralt interrupted. “Where will you go?”

That brought Jaskier up short, his smile was still in place but it looked fragile.

“Are bards not welcome in Kaer Morhen? Am I not to adventure with you?” For the first time, Geralt smelled fear on Jaskier. And, like an intricate lock, all the pieces fell into place, the puzzle now a complete picture.

“You’re homeless.”

The scoff Jaskier sent his way was a worthy attempt at scorn but Geralt could see through it.

“You dare besmirch my good name?” Jaskier rallied, pulling himself up to his full height.

“I dare say the truth.” Because there was no doubt about it. No other explanation fit the evidence so well. They stared at each other, a silent game of waiting for the other to blink until Jaskier deflated.

“So, my plans for the winter weren’t as fruitful as hoped. Don’t suppose you could put in a good word for me at Kaer Morhen? I’ll sing for my keep and do whatever else I can.”

Defeat was not a good look on Jaskier. But before Geralt could promise such things, he needed the truth, from Jaskier himself rather than cobbled together assumptions and guesswork.

Haltingly, it all came out. Jaskier, or rather, Julian Alfred Pankratz, disowned son of the Viscount de Lettenhove ran away at the tender age of 17 to avoid an unfavourable marriage. Cut off from the family fortune, he made his way to Oxenfurt where, out of boredom and for lack of anything else to do, he sneaked into lectures. It was Valdo Marx who caught him and had him thrown out after 4 years of Jaskier doing that. He’d amassed enough knowledge in that time to be able to pass himself as a bard. And he had all the flourish of an Oxenfurt graduate so he told people he’d studied there. Technically, he had but not officially. Not that anyone ever bothered to check.

Jaskier learned the hard way about fighting, haggling, stealing. In order to keep up his appearances of a court bard, his money almost always went on clothes befitting someone of his assumed station. It left very little in the way of clothes to travel in, or a horse to help his journeys.

The Countess de Stael was someone he had made up. It made people see him as more desirable if it sounded like Jaskier was going to return to the court of some noblewoman, the pay was increased to entice him to stay. Meeting Geralt had been a stroke of luck, the witcher capable of feeding two on travels and was always prepared to share a bed for the night. Not that Jaskier was trying to use him, he had tried to pay for his fair share whenever he could. But coin was sparse. The times Geralt left him, Jaskier wandered aimlessly from town to town, trying to earn enough coin to survive. Sometimes, for the winter, a nobelman would take him in and Jaskier could sing and work in the kitchen in exchange for a room.

“No noble wanted you?” Geralt asked, not mincing his words.

“Not this year,” Jaskier admitted and silence stretched between them. They both knew that it was likely Jaskier wouldn’t survive the harsh winter without a benefactor. Crowds were less generous with their coin during winters, saving everything they could in case the cold months stretched out. And Jaskier, without an income, would have slept on the streets, getting ill which meant no playing and no coin. It was a rapid downward spiral that didn’t have a happy ending.

“Kaer Morhen will welcome you, on one condition.” Geralt held up a hand to keep Jaskier’s grateful enthusiasm in check. “You must promise me that you’ll repay their hospitality by keeping me company on The Path.”

It wasn’t payment as such, they both knew it. Geralt was giving Jaskier a permanent source of security. It probably wasn’t much but it was more than he had before.

Graciously nodding, Jaskier smiled as he settled across Geralt’s lap, basking in the heat the witcher exuded.

“I think I can be your barker, it seems like a fair price.” He leaned in for a kiss and, once again, it felt like coming home but for good this time.

[mirandalinotto]

South Solitary Review

Trigger Warnings: Death, Combat PTSD, Referenced Suicide, Sexual Assault/Dubious Consent, Cheating, Implied Pregnancy Loss/Abortion, Hysterectomy, Blaming the Victim..... yeah. it’s a lot.

here there be spoilers. 

I definitely went into this movie thinking it was a cute little story about a girl, her lamb, and her stern uncle. Boy, was I wrong!

Miranda Otto plays Meredith Appleton, the niece of George (played be her real-life father, Barry Otto). I’m going to use Miranda and Barry’s names instead of their character names, because that’s just easier to understand, I think, but please know I’m talking about the characters they play, not they themselves.

So, Barry and Miranda are sent to the South Solitary island because the Head Lighthouse Keeper committed suicide, and the lighthouse needed a new person in charge. Barry is incredibly strict and often rude, but I suppose that’s understandable, at least when it comes to how he treats his staff, considering the state they find the lighthouse management in.

Miranda’s character seems incredibly precious, shy, demure, and completely unfit for the rough life of living on a craggy rock with only a few other people for company. At the start, there are six other people on the island: the Stanley family, which consists of Henry Stanley (a rogue if there ever was one), Alma, his rough and sharp-tongued wife (played by Essie Davis), and their three children... and then the brooding, PTSD-plagued war-veteran, Jack Fleet.

There are some pretty upsetting subjects discussed in this movie, not the least of which being an extremely blunt conversation between Miranda and Essie Davis, in which Essie Davis’ character presses Miranda for intimate details about why she isn’t married yet, and hasn’t had any kids. 

Miranda reveals that she can’t have children, because an operation went wrong (it’s implied that she had an abortion, based on Essie asking, “you were up the pipe?”), and she was forced to have a hysterectomy as a result. She says the child was conceived with a married man (which I’m extremely confused about, because I thought the man involved would’ve been her so-called fiancé...?) and it’s very odd that they just drop that fact into the story, because it seems extremely out of character for Meredith, as we know her currently... and yet, it becomes a fundamental characterization, as she later goes on to sleep with a married man again, and defends how poorly her uncle treats her by insisting that he was the only one who would take her in after the (implied) abortion. 

Essie Davis is unsympathetic to Miranda’s sad backstory, and never warms up to Miranda’s character... so the opportunity for female friendship was sadly missed in this film. They are pretty much enemies from start to finish.

There’s also a subplot where Miranda tries to get to know the youngest child, Netty, but the girl is very hard to read. You can tell she’s had a rough life, and doesn’t suffer fools. Their “friendship” barely develops before Netty fails to care for Miranda’s sheep, and they have a falling out.

Also, there is an ambiguously rape-y, dubiously consensual scene where Henry attempts to seduce Miranda, and is... apparently successful? I feel very strongly that her multiple polite refusals of his advances ought to have indicated to the man that he should leave her alone. She seems incredibly naïve, innocent, and virginal in this scene (which is odd, considering she’s apparently had an affair with a married man before...?!). He’s pretty open about being attracted to her for a good portion of the scene, so Miranda’s polite rebuffs shouldn’t have been taken as consent---as in, he took the fact that she didn’t throw him out of her cottage at the first warning sign as “leading him on.”

To that point, she literally says, “I’m sorry if I’ve led you on,” and he says she hasn’t, and then like one minute later, when she insists she hadn’t noticed that he was interested in her, he acts surprised and goes: “well now you really are leading me on.”

When it becomes clear he’s about to kiss her, she gets this incredibly frightened look on her face, and says, “oh! there’s the milk boiling!” clearly intending to run away from him and tend to the stove, but he forces her to kiss him... and then the scene cuts to black, leaving me very concerned that he raped her.

We see them alone together two more times, one where he forces another kiss on her in the light house, and then another where it’s just a straight-up sex scene. I hate the angle they took the sex scene from, because it looks like Miranda’s body is in an extremely uncomfortable position as he pounds into her. It definitely doesn’t read as a romantic coupling, that’s for sure. 

I guess we’re meant to believe that she warmed up to him sometime between him forcing himself on her in the kitchen and them having sex in her bed days later...?

(I hate it.)

Anyway, Essie Davis finds out about the affair, and makes the whole family leave the island. This leaves only three people left: Miranda, Barry, and the war-veteran, Jack, who has frequent PTSD episodes and really shouldn’t be a lighthouse keeper at all. 

Also, Barry is PISSED when he finds out about Miranda’s affair, and there’s a lot of slut-shaming and victim-blaming that goes on, right before he just randomly... dies? I definitely didn’t see that coming. So he dies while still extremely disappointed in Miranda, and I just hate that, because her character seems fixated on what others think of her. His displeasure with her in his final hours definitely left a wound in her heart.

Which then leaves Miranda alone on the island with Jack. Miranda’s character isn’t good at being alone. The rest of the movie is honestly just her trying to get Jack to open up to her, but he doesn’t really. They embroider things together, and he teaches her how to be a lighthouse keeper, but they only barely scratch the surface of each other’s pasts. 

And then a ship arrives to take her home....?!! The end?! But not before she insists she ought to stay, which I found incredibly weird. She barely knows this brooding man, and suddenly she can’t live without him? She doesn’t want to leave him alone, despite the living conditions on the island being impossible for her to endure? It’s very strange.

I had high hopes for this movie, and I do think it’s worth watching, if only for Miranda’s beautiful, moving performance.... but I just sort of don’t know what the point or message of this film was supposed to be...? 

Miranda Otto’s character is treated pretty poorly by everyone on the island. There is very little happiness or humor to balance the darkness of the story.  Most of the moments that are meant to be romantic or sexy are dubiously consensual, so I didn’t find those very enjoyable, and the subplot about her lamb going missing (presumed dead) and then her finding it months later just isn’t that entertaining, if I’m being honest?

All in all, I’d give Miranda’s performance a 10/10, but the movie as a whole about a 5/10.