#⅋ ! / ( introspection . . . ) THERE’S A HEART THAT BEATS FOR HOPE . ¡

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Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter iii

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader (not poly)

genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love

Word count: 5.3k+

Warnings: some time skips (none too huge), oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, lots of introspection, tornado of emotions, morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of broken home/families, themes of abandonment, mention of love bombing, reoccurring nightmares, sleep paralysis, mentions of therapy, struggles of self-blame, regret, guilt, etc., mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world, death (minor character), life-threatening accident (major character)

playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.

a/n: ANGST ANGST ANGST...don't say I never warned you hahaha. Anyway, once again, I had an amazing time writing this! (although nervous af 👉🏼 👈🏼) Just FYI, there are some time skips as this starts a few weeks after the gala! So to clarify, it’s now 3 months since oc’s divorce was officially finalized, as in done (the process itself took way longer). The chapter continues from there and yeah, the pace is picked up. Okay, let’s go! Enjoy! 🥰

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Fresh linen. Warm breeze. The smell and sound of the ocean.

You know this place too well, like a memory you hoped to have forgotten. Why are you here now? You glance around, taking in the familiar details—the blank ceiling above, the soft comforter that curls around your body like silk against your skin, and delicate rose petals scattered at the foot of the bed. It’s exactly as it was before — it feels exactly the same; too quiet, too peaceful, and too good to be true.

The sunlight streaming through the window is blinding, yet it draws you in with a force you can't resist. Carefully, you stand up, your feet meeting the cool wood floor, and you shiver. Each step you take towards the window feels heavier, like wading through water. When you reach the window, you see the sandy beach below, the waves beating rhythmically against the shore. It’s beautiful, but the painful kind.

To the left, a young couple, not much older than yourself, their hands tightly intertwined, as if afraid to let go. To the right, an older couple sitting further up the beach, comfortably silent as they take in the horizon, reminiscent of their many years together. You always dreamt of achieving the latter, yet here you stand, having neither, and the chances of ever obtaining it growing dimmer with each passing day.

For many, this was supposed to be a place of happiness, a symbol of love, promises, and new beginnings, but not for you. For you, it was a cocoon, trapping you in a deceptive comfort. You close your eyes, trying to steady your rapid breathing, yet it doesn’t prove to be of much help. Images from your past that you’ve tried blocking out of your mind time and time again suddenly resurface — the arguments, the tears, the feeling of everything and nothing at the same time.

“You’re up early,” His voice startles you, causing you to spin around in a panic. At that moment, your heart tightens in your chest, and a cold sweat forms on your brow. You thought you were alone. You’re certain of it. Yet the sight of your ex-husband standing only a few feet away, his hair still damp from his morning shower, is enough to leave you completely speechless.

"Why are you here?" you whisper, your voice trembling.

"Why are you here?" he counters, his dark eyes piercing into yours. "Isn't this what you wanted? To remember us, to remember how it felt to be together?”

What? This isn't making any sense. Why is he talking to you as if he were a ghost? Your eyes search frantically around the room until you spot it—the wedding band on his finger. No, not again. You hear yourself plead, but the words don't leave your lips. All at once, the room begins to feel smaller, the walls closing in on you. You're stuck in another manifestation of your past, this time reliving your honeymoon, three years ago in Greece.

"I didn't want this," you say, your voice barely audible. "I wanted to forget this."

"But you can't forget, can you?" he says, stepping closer. “You remember this view. You remember the floors and the walls. You remember that we had our first time together here and promised our devotion to each other."

“That’s not fair, Jungkook," you reply, taking a step back, "it's not fair at all, you left me. You don't get to patronize me like this."

“We both know our marriage came with stipulations, __. So when did I ever give you a reason to stay? Or to love me?”

You’re back in the bed, the sheets now suffocating rather than comforting. The sound of the ocean is louder, more insistent, drowning out your thoughts. You want to scream, to run, but you’re paralyzed by the fear, the guilt, the regret.

"This isn’t real,” you say to yourself, tears streaming down your face. “I’m dreaming, none of this is happening.”

“You can't escape what we had, or what we lost. We’ll always be here, together __, in this place,” he says softly, reaching out to touch your hand.

"No," you whisper, pulling your hand away. "I need to wake up. I need to let go...of you."

The room fades, his figure dissolving into the shadows. The sound of the ocean becomes a distant murmur as you fight to open your eyes. Wake up, please wake up. It's your own pleads chanting in your head. Finally, with a gasp, you awake, the nightmare diminishing like vapor.

“Fuck,” you curse, fingers gripping your sheets, “just another damn dream.” Rolling onto your back, you take a deep breath before reaching out for the glass of water on your nightstand. Its coolness soothes your dry throat. You reach for your phone next, checking the time—4:47 AM. Too early to start the day, too late to attempt falling back to sleep.

Your thumb hovers over Jimin’s name in your text threads. It would be 10 AM where he is. You consider sending a message, but you find yourself at a loss for words. Forget it, you lock your phone and rise from your bed, you’ll go for a walk instead. Yeah, it’s brisk outside, but the fresh air will help clear your mind.

After tossing on your warmest coat and scarf, you head outside, the sun beginning to break over the horizon. At first, you wander aimlessly, lost in thought as you pass the odd person or two on the sidewalk. One individual accidentally knocks into you, yet he's quick to apologize. You easily understand their rush; perhaps they've just finished the night shift and are eager to reach the comfort of home.

You imagine their loved ones who must be waiting for them. You could be wrong, and maybe you're biased, but the image you depict is a future you once envisioned for yourself—one of laughter, love, and a warm family. It’s a dream you secretly carried as a child, amidst your unstable upbringing. But as the years passed, what was once a lifelong aspiration felt more and more elusive, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. It seems, in the end, it was just a dream…nothing more.

Of course, you've achieved other goals instead, success in your career for one. It's what you wanted most the more you became an adult. Even before Jungkook came in the picture you were thriving. Yes, you needed investors to expand, but you had already made a strong name for yourself, hence the reason his company even reached out to you for a partnership in the first place.

The second, and more formidable goal you’ve achieved was saving your company. You built your business with an earnest heart, good morals, and an ambition to serve a community. You couldn’t let it all be washed out by a larger, greedier industry giant. You had to do something. Too bad your judgment was skewed the day you saw a similar ambition in Jungkook’s eyes; he was just as determined as you to save what was his.

For a while you got what you wanted, stability for your business. But you got too invested, too short-sighted to anticipate that one day, it would all feel hollow without someone proper to share it with. Alas, your prior hopes, the ones you thought were buried long ago, began returning to you as if they were an overwhelming tsunami.

You wanted warmth.

You wanted intimacy.

You wanted a home.

You sought companionship with Jungkook but no, you read the signs all wrong. Once you dropped the L word, his attentiveness towards you skyrocketed. He began calling you while you were apart, surprising you with little gifts, and setting more time aside so you could both take Bam to the dog park on free days. But then it all stopped. After months of showering you with attention, his efforts exhausted him, so he looked for the first exit out.

You remember getting the text one afternoon— When will you be home tonight? We need to talk about something. Selfishly, you hoped he was going to tell you that you could take that trip to Fiji together. You had been hinting at it for the last two weeks. Of course, you were wrong because the last time you checked, trip itineraries didn’t come with divorce papers. At that moment, you realized that Jungkook didn’t try to love you in the slightest, he tried loving at you; love bombing 101. Your ties are now completely severed.

Yesterday marked three months since your divorce was finalized. You didn’t cry like you thought you would, but you did meet with Melody that day. As your therapist, she offered you her empathy, validation, and perspective. You feel you’ve gotten better since you started meeting with her, finally beginning to heal. Yet the unsettling dream that haunted your sleep last night shows you there are many things still left to resolve, feelings you need to confront, but where to start?

You love your ex-husband, but why?

Can it even be called love?

And do you really need him to love you back?

While you can only offer fragments of an answer for the first two, you seem to have a better-formed answer for the last.

No, you don’t need Jungkook to love you. He’s proven to you time and time again that you are not the one he can bear his heart to. He’s always reiterating that he wants you to find someone else, someone more deserving of you, whatever that means. Likely, it’s all projection. Out of the two of you, he’s the one more likely to re-marry.

As for you, you’ll always love him, at least a semblance of it. After all, he was once a part of you. But what was once a part of you, doesn’t need to be anymore. You have to let him go...though you wish you didn't have to.

You continue walking straight until you find yourself drawn to a small park overlooking the city skyline. It's fairly empty, with only a few people nearby. As you settle onto a weathered bench, you take in the view before you. It stretches endlessly. Sunrises have always held a special place in your heart—the amber glow breaking through the abyss of darkness as if a beacon of hope.

"You'll get through this __," you reassure yourself, “one day at a time.”

“Happy six months, boss!”

A goofy, boxy smile graces the man’s lips as he leans against the doorframe of your office. You take in his appearance: crème-colored sweater paired with dark brown slacks, the fabric impeccably tailored to his tall, lean frame. His ebony hair is perfectly parted down the center and feathered out to either side of his face, giving him a soft, approachable look. The glasses are new though, round with a hint of gold. Though a minor accessory, they seem to tie the rest of the look together.

Classy, yet cozy, you hum silently, it suits him.

Everything about the way he’s dressed today complements his features—not that it could be any other way, as Taehyung could never not look good in something. You learned that the hard way when you opted against a gaudy shirt and pant set your stylists suggested he wear for a commercial. Taehyung, being a free spirit, decided to try it on for kicks, and yeah, it strangely worked. He ended up shooting the entire commercial with it on. That video’s gotten your business the highest engagement rate across all your media platforms to this day.

“Mr. Kim, does six months of working together really merit a celebratory drop-in?” You lean back in your desk chair, arms folded as you narrow your eyes at the man. You're taunting him, not that he minds.

“Please,__,” he starts, stepping further into the room, his presence effortlessly filling the space. “The only person that still calls me that is the intern who works on set with us. Makes me feel old, like I’m double my real age.”

“Well, you are older than both of us.”

Taehyung gives you the look, a mix of amusement and mild aggravation.

“Two years is hardly considered older, but if you’re done trying to prod me, I’d like to ask you a series of serious questions.”

“Okay, what?” You straighten your back, curious to know what he’s thinking.

“Red or white wine?” He waits for your response, eyes seemingly hopeful. You're unsure where he's going with this, so you delay your response, suspicious of the spontaneity of the inquiry.

“Red,” you respond, cautiously. Taehyung seems pleased.

“Strawberries or blueberries?”

“Strawberries, though I prefer cherries most."

“Science or literature?"

"Literature." You surprise him with this one. "I like books, vintage ones."

"Do a lot of reading in your spare time?" he asks.

"When I get some, yes."

"Me too. Tolstoy?"

"Occasionally," you answer. "Where are you going with this, Taehyung?"

He shrugs. "Just making conversation." He pauses before continuing, “I also happen to know a place that offers all those things plus private bookings. How about you and I go for dinner tonight, as colleagues? If you hate the wine, I’ll drink it for you.”

The weight of his request hits you like a ton of bricks. Apart from a handful of social events, you and Taehyung haven't exactly mingled outside of the office. His sudden invitation to go out for dinner takes you by surprise, especially considering the nature of your professional relationship. However, you can't deny the subtle shifts in his behavior, the way he's been checking in on you more often, especially since the Winter Gala. Weeks have passed since then, but, no doubt, the memory of that night still lingers in both your minds—the shaming from a bitter business competitor, the unwanted press shining a light on your divorce, and your ex-husband who so easily approached you like it was nothing.

Taehyung suggested for you to slip away through the back door with him, offering to drive you home himself rather than leaving you with your limo driver. But you declined, feeling embarrassed that he wasn't merely a witness to the night's events, but also made to be a spectacle himself. You never wanted him to feel like he had to pity you or coax you through your personal trials. Being a good colleague is one thing, but he didn't need to go above and beyond.

“I don’t know if I can join you tonight, I'm sorry. I have a lot to do,” you say, your voice wavering slightly. It's not far from the truth with the mountain of business reports and budget plans to look over. Though your business remains functioning, it's a lot to maintain, especially with the number of investors having withdrawn their support once news got out about your marital separation. It's unfortunate how much a person's situation and the things they've built can change on someone else's dime.

“You sure?" Taehyung tries again, careful not to sound pushy. "The place isn’t overly posh, but we could go elsewhere if you’d prefer."

“I’m sorry, Taehyung, maybe another time?” you say, fingers fidgeting with a few documents on your desk, a nervous habit you developed ages ago. “I-"

“I understand,” he says, his expression softening, a hint of disappointment flickering in his eyes before he masks it with a gentle smile. "I have a film shoot that might go late anyway. Speaking of which, I'm expected on set in about half an hour so I'm going to head out, but if you change your mind, you know how to reach me."

You nod, recalling having his contact in your phone. The two of you agreed it would be easier to coordinate meetings and schedules this way. "I will, thank you. Good luck with your filming."

As you watch him leave, a twinge of guilt tugs at your conscience. Perhaps you shouldn't have dismissed him so quickly, considering how insistent he seemed. It's as if he was genuinely looking forward to the affair.

No, you can't entertain it any further. You have no way of knowing how far the night might've led—it's best to leave Kim Taehyung alone.

When you declined Taehyung's invitation to get dinner, you didn’t expect it to result in not seeing or hearing from him for the next week and a half. As an endorser, he doesn't work at the office regularly, coming and going as needed and since you hadn’t had any promotional projects for him recently, his absence seemed normal at first.

But this was Kim Taehyung. The same Taehyung who loved making spontaneous visits to the company, especially towards the end of the week. He often came in once, twice, sometimes three times a week to talk with Namjoon, your secretary, in particular. Somehow, the pair had become friends, and since Namjoon’s desk was near yours, Taehyung would drop by whenever he saw your door open. So, not hearing from him for 11 days straight was strange, like he'd vanished.

It was now Friday evening, the clock pushing 5 pm. You consider texting him to make sure he's okay, but wouldn’t that be hypocritical? You had agreed with yourself to leave him alone. Maybe he was on vacation, perhaps at a vineyard, or had taken on another film project. Being a highly talented actor, Taehyung had no shortage of casting directors contacting him for their movies and TV shows.

Embarrassingly, you hadn’t actually seen any of his movies. You enjoyed a good rom-com now and then, like the ones Taehyung starred in, but you usually opted for something more mindless when you had the time to watch anything.

You can imagine the loyal following he has though, as Taehyung was the epitome of a "dream boat" with his natural good looks and expressive eyes. He must be good at kiss scenes, which must be especially difficult for anyone dating him. You know you'd have a hard time accepting it at least, the fact that your flawless actor boyfriend was off making out with equally beautiful co-stars on set, that is. Anyway, as your endorser, maybe you should try supporting his films a bit more. There had to be one that would catch your eye.

Curious, you open a new tab on your phone and search for him.

"Holy fuck," the curse leaves your lips the minute the search returns. Dozens of articles display on your phone screen at once, all covering South Korean actor Kim Taehyung's recent motorcycle accident. You checked the publishing date—six hours ago. “Taehyung’s in the hospital. He’s in the fucking hospital!”

Panicked, you leave your office to speak with your secretary.

“Ms. __,” Namjoon greets you immediately, a trace of hesitation in his tone upon seeing your frazzled state. “Is everything alright?”

“Joon,” you refer to him by his pet name, “Did you know that Taehyung’s in the hospital?”

“What?” He seems as shocked as you, his eyebrows shooting up in alarm.

“It happened this morning around eleven or something. It was a collision, a motorcycle accident. Oh god, he’s—he’s been taken to the ER,” you choke out the words, struggling to maintain your composure as you try recalling one of the articles you skimmed. “We have to go. I have to go right now.”

“I’m coming with you.” Namjoon leaps from his chair, grabbing his keys from his desk drawer. “I’ll drive.”

“No,” you stop him, “I don’t know how long this’ll be and you usually work until 5:30, so I don't want you to have to be stuck at the hospital with me. I want you to be able to call it an early night if you want. We'll take separate cars over.”

“Okay,” he nods. “I’ll meet you over there then?”

“Yeah.” You nod back, clutching your keys harder in your palm. “Yeah, sounds good.” You turn around to head for the nearest exit, but your secretary stops you mid-step.

“__,” he calls you by your name, having known you for the past decade permits him to do so. He softens his eyes when he sees the worry in your own clear as day. “He’s gonna be okay. We have to believe that. Please drive safe.”

“You too,” you say, then disappear from his sight.

When you arrive, it’s a madhouse. Sirens blare as ambulances rush into the hospital parking lot, doctors and nurses race from room to room, and fans—so many fans—crowd outside, all waving signs of comfort and support.

“I'm here to see Kim Taehyung,” you say urgently to the charge nurse. She recognizes you immediately and throws you a look of distaste, but you’re too focused on the emergency at hand to care. “I’m sure you know who I am, but I need to see him. We work together, we're colleagues.”

“Ms. __,” she replies, surprisingly calm and collected amidst her obvious dislike of you. “I’m afraid he’s currently receiving serious medical attention and won’t be able to have any visitors at the moment.”

“I’ll wait,” you blurt out the words faster than you anticipate. You feel like you're eating your words from earlier about leaving him alone, but this is different—his life is on the line. "I can wait for him.”

“Visiting hours are only until 8 pm. I really don’t think—”

“Please,” you interrupt, your voice stern and urgent. “He's part of my team. He's my...friend. I have to know if he’s okay.”

The nurse hesitates, her expression softening slightly as she sees the genuine concern in your eyes. “Alright,” she finally says, her tone firm but kinder. “You can wait in the family lounge, but I can’t promise you’ll be able to see him anytime soon."

“Thank you,” you say, relief flooding through you. She directs you to a quiet room down the hall, away from the commotion where you're better able to calm your racing thoughts. You find a seat in the far corner immediately and send a quick text to Namjoon, letting him know where you are.

As you wait, the minutes drag by painfully slow. You can’t stop replaying the articles in your mind from earlier, the words “motorcycle accident” echoing like a mantra. How did this even happen? How bad was his condition? How much strain is this going to put on his acting career? You wish you knew.

A handful of nurses enter the lounge occasionally, calling out names and providing updates, but none of them are Taehyung’s. You find your ears burning every time the door opens, heart racing, only to sink back into your seat when it’s not about him.

Finally, you catch sight of Namjoon, his face mirroring your concern. He spots you immediately and rushes over, taking a seat in the chair beside you. “Any news?” he asks, his voice low and urgent.

“Not yet,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. “They said he’s receiving serious medical attention and don't know when we'll be able to see him. We have to leave by 8.”

Namjoon nods, his expression grim but unwavering “We’ll wait together.”

"If you need to leave sooner than—"

"I know," he interrupts. "I appreciate it, but please let me be here too."

You sit in silence from then on, exhaustion beginning to weigh heavy on both your shoulders. It's not until 7:35 when a doctor walks into the lounge, his tired eyes scan the room until they land on you and Namjoon.

“Are you here for Kim Taehyung?” he asks. "I'm Dr. Min."

You nod, your heart in your throat.

“He’s stable for now,” Dr. Min explains, “but he's still in critical condition. We’re doing everything we can.”

“Can we see him?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sighs. “Only for a few minutes. And you need to be prepared—he’s heavily sedated and has sustained significant injuries.”

“I understand,” you reply, mentally preparing yourself for what’s to come.

Dr. Min leads you through a maze of hallways until you reach the ICU. As you enter Taehyung’s room, the sight of him hooked up to machines and covered in bandages nearly breaks you. You take a deep breath and step closer, Namjoon right next to you.

“Taehyung,” you whisper, but he remains motionless, his breathing steady and rhythmic. The severity of his injuries is evident in the way he lies.

“We're here, Taehyung,” Namjoon continues, noticing your slightly frozen state. “We’re both here for you. Please, fight through this. You and I, we're good pals, remember? Like brothers. You have to—"

Although the more collected one before, Namjoon begins to struggle with his words. You place a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. Having known him for 10 years, you know that despite his strong exterior, he has one of the softest souls you know.

"I think I have to go, __. It'll be better if I see him when he's awake. I want to stay longer, but I just don't know if I can."

"I understand, we can't stay much longer anyway. Go home and get some rest. Dr. Min will call us when he's awake and able to talk."

After you give him a hug, Namjoon leaves the room, leaving you alone with Taehyung. You end up pulling up a chair beside his bed and slowly reach out to touch his hand. It's instinctive for you, the need to feel his heartbeat overpowering any other thought.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you, Taehyung," you start, your voice a mere murmur. "You'll push through this, right? Like in the movies you film. I confess I haven't seen any of them yet, but—but I will! That's how I found out about all this actually. We hadn't seen you for nearly two weeks, so I searched you up. Not in a weird way though, okay? Not like...anyway, I'm sorry I said no to you that day. When you asked to go for dinner, it threw me off. This whole thing with my ex-husband just has my mind in fifty million directions, so I promise it wasn't you. I hope you didn't think that."

"You've always seemed to show up for me, whether it's for the good of the company or even a little emotionally in some aspects. With the reputation I have these days, I'll always be grateful that you chose to work with me. You have a good heart, Taehyung, so much that I think if we ever got close, I think it might be unbearable for me," you pause, a couple of tears slipping down your face.

Just then, a creaking of the room's door momentarily pulls your attention away. Dr. Min stands a few feet away, clearing his throat—a gentle but firm signal that it's time for you to leave.

"I have to go soon, but I'll be back tomorrow, okay? Even if you're still asleep or not, I'll stop in and sit with you for a while because...because I need to be sure that you'll be alright. Namjoon will come see you too when he's ready. But I'll see you in the morning, alright Kim?"

You squeeze Taehyung's hand gently before heading out of the room, thanking the medical staff along the way.

When you get home, the first thing you do is head straight for the bathroom. Your whole body feels riddled with stress and exhaustion, and you know that the only thing that can offer even the slightest amount of solace is the warmth of water.

Yet not four minutes after immersing yourself in your tub does your phone ring, demanding your attention. Being this late into the evening, you figure it has to be Jimin.

But you're wrong.

When you reach to answer the call, it's actually an unrecognizable number that's flashing on the screen. You hesitate for a moment, debating whether to answer or let it go to voicemail.

"Hello?" you answer cautiously, curiosity getting the best of you.

There's a brief pause on the other end before his voice comes through, words slightly muddled. "Hey, it's me," he says, his tone soft. "I've been...I've been thinking about my life, you know? About everything.

"J-Jungkook?" Your heart sinks as you quickly decipher the owner of the voice, but then it hardens. It's obvious from the slurring of his words that he's been drinking. "Why on earth are you calling me? And at this godforsaken hour too."

"I told you...I've been thinking about my life."

"I'm hanging up."

"No, please, stay on the line for five minutes. Please, I have to tell you...what I've been thinking."

"You have three minutes," you sigh, ready for anything (except what he was about to spring on you).

"I wanted to save my company," he continues, his voice wavering slightly. "For my mom's sake, you know? My dad owned it and stuff but she was the one who was behind all the technology...and that's why I married you. You...reminded me of her."

Your breath catches in your throat as he reveals the truth behind his actions, the raw honesty of his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. You knew very little of Jungkook's mother, too, as he didn't speak of her often.

"And then...then there's the real reason I divorced you," he admits, his voice breaking slightly. "My parents had a terrible marriage, you know? My mom...she had to manage my dad's temper for years...he didn't love her at all. He just married her because she was smart and could make him rich. It made her so unhappy, but you know she loved him so much. She...she passed away when I was 16, and...and I didn't want that for you. I didn't want you to be trapped like she was, because I'm like my dad you know? My feelings are...weird... I never know what the hell I'm...feeling. I'm probably not making a lot of sense am I?"

"I'm trying to understand." You want to hang up here and now but every time he speaks, you cant bring yourself to do it. The pain in his voice cuts through you like a knife, and it's a side of him that you've rarely seen before.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice thick with regret. "I'm sorry for being such a dumbass that day I got my stuff. That was like, six months ago and I still hate myself for it. I shouldn't have made an advance on you like that. I was...I was immature, and I wasn't thinking."

"After the gala," he continues, his words becoming more coherent as he speaks. "I...I felt even more guilty, you know? Because, I still have a photo of you and Bam on my dresser. It's small, but I've tried to put it away over and over and over again, but I can't do it. I don't know what's wrong with me...it's almost a year since we lived under the same goddam roof and I can still smell your perfume, I can still remember how you laugh with both your lips and your eyes...the way you scrunch you nose when—"

"What are you trying to say Jungkook?" You interrupt. "That you're sorry and can't get me out of your head, so you need my forgiveness to move on?"

"No! That's...that's not it at all. I mean, I do want your forgiveness but—"

"Well, what the fuck is it?" You hate how aggressive your voice is sounding, but the obscene amount of incoherent information he's revealing to you is overwhelming. "It's 10 freaking pm at night, I had a long day, I'm sleep deprived, and Taehyung's in the fucking hospital which is so distressing, so I'm sorry, but I can't handle any more of your cryptic messages!"

"I think I might love you," he finally says, his voice raising as well. "I know I'm...I'm being a dumbass, but I...I think I love you. I love you __, fuck!"

a/n: So....how are we feeling about Jungkook rn? Also, my darling Taehyung is taking one for the team here 😭 🤍 LMK what you think! Lastly, I understand the timeline of events is a bit tricky to follow, so if it helps I can put something in the series masterlist to help. Vote for jjk or kth!

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side note: I tried tagging readers in comments but most of them didn't go through, so i'm sorry about the clutter here...😬

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[fxrmuladaydreams]

jim and pam (sv5) (dr3)

pornstar!seb x pornstar/camgirl!reader , pornstar!daniel x pornstar/camgirl!reader

summary: who would’ve thought an episode of the office would make you feel so introspective

notes: this one’s short, i’m sorry

prev part next part

Things had become odd after your day spent with Sebastian. It was like there was a new energy surrounding you.

Sebastian was great, really. He was sweet, flirty yet still respectful. You honestly wanted nothing more than to grab him by his shoulders and plant a kiss against his lips. It also didn’t help that his channel hadn’t had any new videos posted to it as of late.

You didn’t want to assume that this was some grand gesture of his devotion to you, but a part of you still hoped. You hoped that you were the reason he wasn’t seeing other women, that he was actively choosing to spend his time with you as opposed to spending it filming with other people.

You find yourself seeking him out regularly, longing for his attention, and he’s more than happy to give it to you. Lunches turn into movie nights turn into sleepovers turn into making breakfast together in the kitchen.

That’s how you find yourself seated on the couch, with Sebastian on the other side of it. You’ve both got plates of food on your lap, and are facing each other while the television plays in the background. You had decided that you should watch something together while you ate, and you picked The Office. It was funny, something simple enough that you didn’t really need to focus on it, you could just relish in the presence of each other.

It plays in the background as you nudge your food around your plate. Sebastian keeps his eyes locked on the television.

“Why doesn’t Jim realize that he should be with Pam?” He asks, not necessarily looking for an answer.

You shrug. “Maybe he’s happy with Karen. I mean, I think he and Pam are perfect together, but it’s possible for him to be happy with someone else too.”

Sebastian turns to look at you, then moves to fully face you. “You think that’s possible? That someone could be so in love, so perfect for someone else, and that they could just ignore those feelings while they’re with someone else?” He raises a brow.

You suddenly feel like you’re no longer talking about The Office. You had always felt comfortable around Sebastian, from very early on. He made it clear that he cared about you, until he pushed you away. Were you making a mistake entertaining the idea of being with Daniel instead?

“I think at this point it’s a right person, wrong time sort of situation for them.” You tell him softly.

He nods. “But that doesn’t mean they can’t fix it in the future. See if they were truly meant to end up together?” He smiles. He turns back to the television when you don’t answer him.

The rest of breakfast is spent quietly watching The Office, and cleaning up the kitchen together.

Sebastian gives you a soft smile just before leaving. “Always a pleasure schatz.” He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, leaving you at your door.

Daniel comes over just before lunch. You try to expel the awkward air between you from the other day, allowing him to be more affectionate, but not possessive.

Unlike with Sebastian, he keeps his arms wrapped around you on the couch, practically holding you on top of him.

You close your eyes as you rest your head against his chest. You focus on the soft steady beating of his heart, the heart that he’s openly given to you.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head sweetheart?” He asks, running a hand along your back.

You lift your head to look up at him. He smiles down at you, his dark eyes shining in the light coming in from the window.

“Nothing. Just enjoying this. Being here with you.” You tell him.

He grins, his arms squeezing you a little tighter for a moment. “I’m enjoying this too.”

You fiddle with your hands as you watch Daniel gather his things before leaving. He tugs his hoodie back on over his head, and grabs his keys off your counter.

“Daniel?” You ask, following him to the door.

“Yes sweetheart?”

You rock back and forth on your heels. “Maybe, you could just spend the night? It’s getting late, and I don’t mind having you over.” Your words are quiet, like you’re almost afraid of saying them out loud.

He nods. “I’ll stay. But only if you’re sure you want me to.”

“I want you to.”

He drops his keys back on the counter, and follows you to your room. He pulls his hoodie back off, then begins to pull his shirt off too.

“Is this okay? I usually just sleep in my boxers… If not I can just sleep in my jeans.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine.” You try not to stare as Daniel strips in front of you.

Your phone screen lights up with a notification. It’s a goodnight text from Sebastian. You respond quickly before putting your phone face down on your bedside table.

You start off on opposite sides of the bed, but quickly feel Daniel’s arm wrap around you, pulling you against him. His soft snoring proves that it was a subconscious move, that he probably had no intention of possibly stepping over a line when you invited him to stay the night.

However, you’re the one who feels trapped between a rock and a hard place. Well, Daniel’s chest, and the phone sitting two feet away from you. You know you have to make a choice, but feel torn between the two men who’ve chosen to love you. You just have to hope that you pick the right one.

[the-monkeies-girl]

*crying into my crunchwrap supreme* dont look AT ME imagine the ape men feeling their baby move for the first time im not OKAY

Caesar is admiring the growing bump you have on display, your body propped up against the side of the rounded nest. You're using an animal pelt as a make-shift pillow against your shoulders for comfort as the Ape King raises his hand and lightly places it on the underside of your tummy, caressing it almost completely with one hand. Letting out a small sigh, you peep over at him with one eye open before closing it again, teetering on the brink of sleep yourself as the fire is crackling a happily dying tune in front of the two of you.

This was becoming a popular pastime for the two of you in the later evenings when you were tangled in the nest together and you were refusing to sleep. Caesar… Remarked in silence often of how incredible it was that your body was able to withstand the growing nature of a child. Not just any… He felt the hackles on his shoulders rise with abundant pride. His. Yours. Together.

"That feels good..." Your voice is nothing more than a soft whisper echoing into the quiet air to praise the way that the Ape was caressing your stretching skin so delicately, only stopping here and there to trace discernable figures against you and causing a tickling vibration which earned him a cute and softened smile of adoration. "Hm." Caesar mutters deeply inside of his chest, continuing his movement as rubs upwards, his calloused fingers against your smooth skin feeling too good to describe for either of you. Right to the top of your bump, brushing his knuckles right at the underside of your breasts in the meantime while Caesar ate up the giggle it got him without hesitation. Breathing in slowly, you feel sleep coming right around the corner, your head lulling to the side. You’d need to readjust for the rest of the night, you knew that but a quick doze off didn't sound too bad after what you and Caesar just wrapped up a few minutes ago---

You're jolting awake. Faster than you can comprehend and nearly bump your forehead onto Caesar's feeling the fluttering against the harder skin of your mate. "D---... did you feel that?!" Caesar is silent in front of you, green eyes locked on where he was making contact on your stomach before his large palm rubbed once more to garner both of you a soft tugging at your skin in the direction of the heated touch. "Child...?" "They just moved!"

You can see the cogs turning in Caesar's head as he processes what he is feeling and what he heard you say. "Baby----"

"They're moving!" You can't contain your excitement, sleep far off in the distance now as you rest your hand on top of your mates and whisper softly to the Ape, "Strong... You can definitely tell it's yours." You tease and Caesar's lips fall into a flat line as if to say 'I sure hope it is' as you bless him with a cheeky grin. "I... Think they like the way you're holding them." Caesar drew a deep and tentative breath in and rubbed the top of your belly once more to garner another small shuffle from the baby as you were tickled by the thickets of fur around his wrist. Finally--- Caesar cracked the smallest of smiles and chuffed out of his nostrils from minor exhilaration, heart beating quickly in his chest. Female Apes carried too small for fetal movements to be felt so aggressively. This was so... New to him as he continues to rub, going downwards to the side and marveling in a small spoken moment of introspection dueling with a compliment.

"Amazing..."

Genuinely, you were unsure of how your feet were moving so quickly. It seemed each step that you were taking was catapulting you just a bit faster, your hand resting on the top of your protruding stomach as your gaze was set scanning the Village for the Master of the Birds himself. It felt like haze, your gawk starting at the Eagle Enclosure itself and unable to detect any movement in the high nest there before you scooted towards the meadow adjacent. Nope, not there. 

You hoped--- Biting your bottom lip, you began moving towards Dar who was taking care of the Young Chimps as usual, her blue shawl something familiar for you to gravitate towards. You hoped that Noa had not taken the afternoon off to go fishing with Anaya and Soona - Something you weren’t fond of doing yourself as the Summer Heat was smoldering as it was and adding the delicate fact that you were pregnant? You’d rather lounge under a tree and take a spotty nap. And that’s where you had been- Against a tree, dozing in and out of consciousness as the leaves rustled their shapes against the parts of your body that were bare when you felt a small fluttering in your stomach. Unsure, you sat up and waited for it to pass but it happened again and led you to this moment. Searching for your Mate for him to experience what you had before the growing baby in your stomach decided to relax for the rest of the evening.

“Dar,” Smiling graciously at the older Female, she greeted you with a brisked smile of her own, casing your forearm and drifting you inwards to press your foreheads together which you accepted gratefully, “Have you seen No---...” Freezing, you felt a chuckle of delight cater towards the back of your throat, “The baby---... Is--- Moving! I want him to---” Your Mother-In-Law chortled a small laugh as she nodded, cupping the bottom of your rounded bump and felt the movement for herself, “Strong, like Noa. He… Should be here… Soon. Went with Anaya and Soona---” You groaned under your breath and nodded in understanding, “I don’t know how much longer they’re going to keep moving.” You joked and pressed your forehead once more to Dar’s as a departure, “If you see him, let him know I’m looking for him.” And with that, you were off once more, your bare feet feeling good against the ground below as you trudged into the tall grass of the meadow. “Noa!” Sighing in relief upon seeing the three familiar bodies of the Sunset Trio, your Mate was quickly at your side having used all four of his appendages to move, tossing his fishing gear at Anaya who fumbled it as Soona laughed. “Something… is wrong?” There was evident worry in his voice at your presence and the stance of which you were standing. 

Shaking your head, your face broke out into a smile and you were fast to grasp at his right hand and placed it gently against the top rounding of your bump. “Do not understa---” They moved as if on command, drifting upwards towards the casing that Noa’s hot and calloused hand gave against the fabric of your stretched t-shirt. “Did you feel that?”

Noa narrowed his lush green eyes down where he was making contact and felt it once more, this time a bit more aggressively before hooting outwardly towards Soona and Anaya. They came to his side, excited by the desperation of Noa’s call in the first place. “They are… Moving!”Soona gasped and looked towards you, “Moving?”

Nodding happily, you could not tear your eyes off of Noa as he rubbed softly, bunching the fabric of your shirt a bit but the exposure was not a problem. Even when Anaya and Soona reached forward, arguing amongst themselves as to who wanted to feel it first after Noa. Smiling at him, you watched with gratefulness as he ignored the two other Apes and leaned inwards to kiss your forehead with his own. The action told you everything you needed to know. The love and adoration swirled wildly.

You desperately hated when Blue Eyes was gone for so long. But you understood why and never sought to complain about it, spending your days with Lake instead to keep you company when he was torn into the politics that Caesar had established and needed to scout out a new promised land for the Colony itself. It had been days, you thought to yourself with a dreary sigh, giving your friend a small smile of appreciation as Lake had offered you to take a seat and work on some twine rather than moving around with the Young, on your feet. You had no idea when Blue Eyes and Rocket were meant to return, there surely was no way to know when the mission was to find a new promised land where the Apes could live free.

 Where… You… Could live free, you thought, lightly placing your hand on the top of your growing baby bump. How hesitant he had been to leave in the first place, your eyes watery as you felt his forehead cased against yours as you encouraged him that it would be alright - that you and the baby would be alright the few days that he was expected to be gone. Caesar even ensured with the help of Cornelia that you would be cared and looked after but that didn't help watching the Ape Prince leave--- Commotion pulled your train of thought away and you didn't finish it to completion as you looked towards Lake who hooted in your direction. ‘They are back!’ She signed for you in silence, favoring that language rather than speaking. Feeling your heart flutter in your chest, you grinned happily and accepted the help from her as she was quick to assist you rising from your spot. Not needed, but Lake was considerate of your busting mid section and what it meant to the Colony as the whole.

First Hybrid, first child for their Prince. They were going to be revered regardless of their lineage on the Mother’s side. ‘Go, go. I will… dismiss the children.’ She urged you forward, your feet careful against the slick rock as you smiled a soft ‘thank you’.

There was more movement than you anticipated, your eyes trying to scan the rock inlay of where the Colony resided for the time being. Almost two years, if you recalled correctly, holding your hand out to steady yourself as you walked down the sloped ground. It felt like you were going to fly off the handle having caught eyes with Cornelia who signed delicately towards her Son at your arrival, making frantic eye contact with the only set of irises that were different than any other. Ones that you fell in love with, breathless at the confident gait he used coming towards you.

‘Good trip?’ You signed with a small chuckle as Blue Eyes raised his hand and cupped the back of your head. No need for small talk, he told you and brought your forehead towards his own and out of reflex, your eyelids fluttered shut and you let his harder brow ridge line against yours. 

“You… Have… gotten bigger.” Blue Eyes was rare to use his speaking voice though in the time that you two had known each other, his stride with phrases had gotten much better and cohesive. Before you, there really was no need for vocals but the Chimp knew you liked it as he dropped the large hand from your head, still catering against your forehead and placed it against the side of your stretching tummy. 

“Not that much bigger,” You giggled softly, enjoying the sensation of his breath against your face that was hard and longed, needing to consume as much of you as possible as Blue Eyes began tendering his calloused fingers along the side of your bump. “It was only… a few days…” 

“Too long.” He uttered, pulling away to let his gaze fall onto the contact he had on your body. Hopefully more soon, Blue Eyes thought to himself and trailed his expanded hand against the front, gliding across your belly button and stopping at the slightest motion of movement which… Was not the sensation that he got when you chuckled upon him tickling you. This was… different… Subtle… ‘They… are moving?’ His signing was frantic as you grinned widely, nodding your head in confirmation as your Mate traced right around your belly button and garnered himself a small shift.

‘Started a day ago.’

‘Never leaving you again,’ Blue Eyes was adamant in his choice of words as he felt the fluttering once more, this time a bit more aggressively as he pressed his palm inwards a bit. It appeared the baby was not a fan, or maybe they were as they were now kicking in a pattern against Blue Eyes’s heady touch. ‘Never want to miss… another moment… like this.’

Koba could tell from the rising and subsequent fall of your shoulder that you were asleep. As if your ajar mouth drooling slightly,  face pressing against the arm that you had tucked under it wasn’t enough of an indication as you were laying on your side and the Bonobo was able to get a pretty good view of your expression. He wasn’t the biggest fan of letting you sleep in his nest…--- Well, Koba narrowed his good eye on you and felt a huff leave his broad chest as he tied a spearhead to a shaft of wood. No, there was no argument. Despite your… fragile human condition that he ultimately put you in out of desire, this was still his nest and you laying naked in it was not going to change. It was not yours despite your resting body, despite the trailing of your own animal pelts that you brought from your own hut. This was still his, Koba’s. Snarling softly, he tightened the spearhead aggressively and enjoyed the sensation of the twine digging into his calloused fingers before it clattered against the ground. 

Hunching down onto all fours, he drifted with ease across the room in contemplation. He could wake you up and tell you to leave, wouldn’t be the first time. It was the preference really, Koba was not keen on sharing it with you. The way that you breathed was enough to drive him to a sense of innate craze, not to mention the tag-along you now had… Koba stared at your face for a few seconds, the trail of drool you had against your cheek was pooling and it was amusing bait to use in an argument. Koba locked that away, dragging with disgust the way that your shoulders were bare. You weren’t even able to get the animal hide around you to keep you warm before you fell asleep, you reckless Human. With a snort towards you, Koba climbed his way into the nest. Not carefully enough, you stirred awake and groaned.

“Leave” He uttered at you and flickered his eyes to your bustling stomach that was exposed to the air. “Not allowed to sleep… In Koba’s nest… Make it smell like… Human.” The tone was snarling around the edges but deeper in if you were in a more lucid state you’d hear the antagonistic tear of endearment.

Koba snorted again, this time more aggressively near your face as you chose to rest your head back down and grumble something that was discernible. You were fast back asleep, Koba letting you drift away in front of him as he grunted and lifted the animal pelts that were resting by your feet upwards to capsize against your naked form. Koba despised it. The dips and curves of your bare flesh. What was the point of having no fur? Absolutely stupid, he thinks, lingering the pelt upwards enough so the Ape was able to see your stomach for a few seconds longer. Absolutely… Stupid… For letting Koba do that to you, the stretching of your stomach is apparent even in the dim flickering light that he kept his fire at when residing inside of the nest. Never too bright, Koba did not like the strain it caused his one good eye. 

You had let him do that and you let him continue, Koba had no idea why when he held such disdain towards your pure human form. The way your hair fell, the way your lips pursed in your sleep, the smell that wafted off of you even though it was clearly mixed with his own… “Human.” He tapped your shoulder with his free hand which you waved away. “Need to leave now!”

“Let me sleep, fucking Bonobo. You did this to me.” You were half asleep, placing a hand on your growing stomach and lightly traced the smoothed skin as if to tease the fact that Koba was always going to have a tie to you no matter how much he tried to deny it. “The… They’re sleeping too…” “Impossible for you to know!” “They move.”

Koba got quiet and drew the blanket back downwards instead of draping it against you as he thought of kindness and argued against it. “What… do you mean?” “They move.” “They do not.” “Show Koba.” “I’m trying to sleep.” “Show.”

Growling in a way that sounded innately Ape, you were propping yourself up onto your side and grasped at his hand in your half-asleep state and placed it ardently to the side of your bump. “Shut up and feel.” 

There was sleep drawing in your words as Koba fought against your hand, refusing the contact for he was not the one to initiate it until his palm flattened against your smoothed skin. Koba snarled at you, looking at the contact he had that was not thrusted with passion. It was… Gentle… The way that your fingers cascaded against his own and kept them placed. 

“Do not feel---”

Koba’s statement ended abruptly at the tug he felt against his otherwise toughened hand. No immediate reaction was given as you rested your head back down and let him trail along freely. If Koba chose, he could tear away from it now but… He did not.  Stagnantly, Koba allowed his hand to expand against your stomach so he was able to cradle it with all of his fingers. There it was again, Koba's gaze slightly more ample but not noticeable to you as you had your eyes shut for the semblance of the vulnerable moments. Koba shifted ever so slightly, tugging his feet inwards as the Bonobo yearned for a bit more. Would... Would pressing harder get him more? Koba considered it but your voice tore through the air instead.

“Do you feel that?”

“No.” He was quick to respond and snapped his hand back, squeezing the fingers shut into a fist as Koba felt the uncomfortable pull in his chest as his heart had quickened for no good reason, “You… Sleep here tonight but no other night, stupid… Human!”

[thebardisabird]

I've been on a little thought train of s/o's learning each others cultures so I gotta know your take on how the matsus would react to their s/o saying "I love you" in Japanese 💙

Hi my friend, I know you're taking a break from Ososan right now, but I was feeling a type of way about this prompt and wanted to answer this. I hope it's okay if we kind of go the route of this being the first time you say it to them. Lots of fluff, and a little bit of angst here and there but they all end happily! Under the cut!

Osomatsu would actually panic, completely bypassing the fact that you're actually learning his mother tongue. Though he presents himself as a very carefree kind of guy, the idea of love - real, true love, is a very deep feeling that he's a little afraid of facing. He may slip up and say something less graceful like "Same!" or "Me too!" and quite frankly he won't understand your disappointment at first. But after discussing it with his brothers, who all tell him he's a fucking MORON for responding that way, he actually does some real introspective work and realizes that's he's being incredibly dumb for not being able to say it back off the bat. Of course he loves you. So the next time he sees you, he'll ask you nonchalantly to repeat that new phrase you learned recently, and with some hesitance you do. He smirks with some softness, faces you, and repeats your words back to you.

Karamatsu sings your praises of learning Japanese, knowing very well that you both are trying to learn each others' language. It will take him a minute to register exactly what you've said, but when it does, he pauses. His face is blank for a second; at first you think you've said something wrong (or possibly even said it too soon), but then you see the tears corner in his eyes. Now he has you panicking, but he takes your hands before you even know what to do with them. He'll ask you "...Me?...Are you sure?" and it reminds that you that for as confident as he seems, Karamatsu does have his insecurities. It almost breaks your heart at his question of disbelief. But you reassure him, hand to his cheek and say it again. To which he wilts, letting a tear or two fall as he takes you in his arms and tells you how happy he is you feel the same.

Choromatsu is so excited that you're learning more and more phrases! He understands that Japanese isn't an easy language to learn so he's very keen on helping you out as much as possible. Like his older brother however, he too doesn't realize what you'd said right away. His face immediately drops into that signature blank Matsuno stare when it registers. He promptly grabs some q-tips, fiercely cleaning his ears before insisting he heard you wrong and asking you to repeat yourself. When you attempt to he screams for you to stop, "I'M NOT READY, WAIT WAIT WAIT!" and he turns his back to you, face in hands. It goes on this way for a few minutes before you decided to tell him to forget what you said - clearly what you've said bothers him. Surprisingly he grasps your hand before you can turn away, his grip unsure, but still clasped around you. "Me too...I...love you too." His back is still turned to you as he says this, but you can hear it in his voice that he's sincere. What you don't see is the half-lidded gaze of relief under his palm, and the cherry red blush dusting his cheeks.

Ichimatsu right away is taken aback by your words. So much so that his hand comes to his drumming chest in an act to stop his heart from beating out of his ribcage. He backs away from you, looking almost insulted. There's a very clear internal struggle within him as he can't properly process your words of affection. So instead, he runs. Undoubtedly you're confused and a little upset, not quite expecting him to turn tail on you at your exclamation of love in his native language. You know Ichimatsu well enough to know that what he needs most is space. The rest of the day the poor fourth born needs to constantly be held at bay from bashing his head through the walls of the Matsuno household. All of his siblings reassure him that he can still fix things. How could he run from you when you told him you loved him? He felt like the scum of the earth. Would you even forgive him? Of course you wouldn't, who was he kidding. The chatter of self-depreciation drowned out his thoughts so deafeningly that he hadn't even realized you had made your way to his home. It wasn't until your arms had circled around his back and your chin tucked at his shoulder that he was shaken back to presence; and then it hits him. You love him. You love him. You spend time with him. You make him laugh. In your arms he feels relaxed, safe even. How could he...? His forehead leans wearily against your shoulder. You begin to apologize for making uncomfortable, but before more than a few words escape you he cuts you off with his own expression of love. It's quiet and muffled, but you hear him. The sweet silence that follows is filled with nothing but comfort.

Jyushimatsu basically shouts about how really good your pronunciation is! He's happy that you're learning Japanese as he wants to be able to have full conversations with you as much as he can. He's not aloof however, he knows exactly what you said. That's why in less than a minute you're lifted into his arms, being tossed ceremoniously a few times before your face is littered with kisses. His normally bright personality shines at another level at your loving words. He presses a few more kisses to your face before exclaiming that he loves you the same in Japanese alongside you. It's an exchange that leaves you both feeling on cloud nine for the remainder of the day.

Todomatsu opens his mouth to say something, but instead tries to bite back an overjoyed smile. Deciding to be cheeky he responds with, "I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you, can you say that again?" You think at first he actually didn't hear what you said you repeat yourself, but after he asks you to reiterate what you said, you quickly catch on. That doesn't deter you though and you play him at his own game. It doesn't take long before he ends up almost as pink as his wardrobe, laughing softly before he stops you from repeating yourself one more time. Instead he asks you out of the blue if you want to take a selfie with him. You're caught off guard by the request, but you oblige, posing with him. Just before he snaps the pic, you feel lips press to your cheek. In the softest voice he can muster he whispers his own words of affection in Japanese. When he pulls away it's your turn to wear some color on your cheeks whilst Todomatsu raves about how adorable your selfie came out.

[biasbuck]

BiAsBuck’s ficrec Fridays

Less that a week to go!! Happy fraturday, and a very happy birthday to Mr Guzman. Here's another round of the fic I've been reading this week, you can find previous rec lists here.

21 September 2024

ice cream before dinner by cloudydaisies is a pitch perfect Eddie POV fic as he babysits Mara and Jee-Yun following 7x10, winning them over with icecream tuesdays, love and support. I saw so many people loving on this and then caught my eye even more with some gorgeous cover art by @walkingonawire and yes, everyone was right, it absolutely melted my heart. Just a beat for beat joy of a fic, Eddie's internal journey and the sweet bond of trust and love built between the trio, as he awaits Chris' return, and allows himself to open his heart up to Buck along the way. Beautifully written and delightful!

all you're giving me is friction by @henswilsons ahhhh such a wonderful 5+1 buddie fic in which Eddie joins the 118 and Hen is a little worried that Buck's flirting with him will cross a line...seeing as he's wearing a wedding ring. This is such a fun fic with the elephant in the room...because you know what she doesn't know you know, right? And waiting for the reveal and watching it dawn on them is so brilliantly funny in execution.

wherever you roam (you'll always want me) by @buddieism canon divergent following 7x05 in which Eddie would rather 'go to his grave repressed and miserable than ever take away from Buck’s happiness.' But in unpacking what would make Eddie himself happy, he comes to realise with some help and a look at what brought him to this point in his life that that might not be up to him. Aching and painfully cathartic and ultimately full of hope.

the cat's meow by @exhuastedpigeon GIVE. EDDIE. A CAT. (Do it for me!) When Eddie finds a box of abandoned kittens at the side of the road, he takes them to the shelter...but falls ass over teakettle for little calico Pinto (like the beans). Reluctant to let on to the existence of his new furry little friend, he keeps her close to his chest. When Buck finds out, he's unable to resist falling under the spell of her charms...or her owners. Sweet, romantic fluff...with such great character voice....and whiskers!! So freakin' cute.

glass on the pavement under my shoe by @doitbuckley a Buck POV fic under Gerrards command, taking a risk that puts his life on the line to save Eddie. But all these years later, he's not sure he's so readily okay with having to say goodbye for real, even in the line of duty. Some lyrically written introspection and growth from Buck here in the way he understands and embraces life vs death situations.

Hot Ghost Problems by @ebjameston in which Eddie is a natural born witch in a world where magic isn't a secret though he keeps it close to his chest. But on joining the 118 he meets Buck...only Evan Buckley is the firefighter who died that Eddie was here to replace. Tethered together by magic, Buck refuses to move on, and in staying around he saves Eddie along the way. With some excellent Diaz sister cameos, a brilliantly intriguing mystery, and a whole heap of magic, they race against time to save the day and might just get to keep their happily ever after. I had such a great time reading this one from 2023!

the tortured poets department by @colonoscopys more magic! 'The first time Buck touched him, Eddie blew an ambulance up.' Magic sparks under his skin, and falling in love with Buck feels a lot like when it overwhelms him with feeling. Eddie thinks he's doing a good job keeping it secret, but somethings are obvious to those who know what signs to look out for. This one felt like a little bit of magic shared, sweet, sexy and full of all sorts of sparks!

Okay let's leave it there for this week. Next week we'll have a new episode to play with! Can you believe it? I'll be on a little work trip and then a vacation so looking forward to joining you all in the sandbox soon. So excited to be back with the firefam again.

[prickly-paprikash]

Feels like the beef is over. Possible Kendrick album drop on the horizon. He even went and lifted copyright claims over any video that uses his four diss tracks since him and his team knew the fire they started over the weekend and that this would go a long way in helping out reactors, edit channels, dissection channels and more.

With the (likely) end of this feud, investigations need to begin. If Kendrick has proper receipts over his allegations, it needs to see the light of day and I hope it's soon. Rap disses is one thing—these are predator accusations that need to be met with the proper gravity. Given his relations with Baka and the stories in Toronto cropping up of his activities, I feel at the very least confident that there will be things Drake needs to address. And address them soon.

But I also want to discuss the (possible) last diss. The Heart Part 6.

A pathetic attempt to steal a title from Kendrick's own series of singles "The Heart Parts I-V". Songs that Kendrick has utilized to give introspection regarding the industry, his masculinity, depression, his savior complex and so much more. And Drake uses that title for what exactly?

Not a brutal response. Not a catchy summer bop.

He sounds defeated. His lyrics are incoherent, going from saying he planted that false information, to also saying that those who planted it are clowns and fakes. He dismisses and ridicules Kendrick's "Mother, I Sober" song, a story about Kendrick being harassed and SA. Except, as I have since corrected myself over thanks to others on here, that the entire song is him saying the assault never happened and no one believes him. So not only did Drake contradict his claims in one song, he showed his illiteracy.

And Kendrick doesn't respond like he does with Family Matters. When Drake dropped FM, Kendrick immediately invalidated an entire seven minute track by dropping his own response, a haunting meet the grahams, within thirty minutes. A malicious dissection and mock therapy session between him and every member of the Grahams, including Drake's alleged hidden daughter. And finishes the blow by dropping Not Like Us in less than a day, a certified summer hit that has already been played over and over again across the world. When Drake stans accused him of making boring, sleep-causing disses because they were too deep and complex, Kendrick dropped all pretense and released a song produced by DJ Mustard himself to bluntly call Drake and his posse predators while making everyone, including Drake's own base, to dance to the beat.

And we return to Drake's last response. More dislikes than likes. Boring. Lacking the pettiness and replayability that previous disses possessed. A sad, final attempt at a defense and Kendrick doesn't seem to bother responding.

Instead, it seems he leaves it up to the public now. Let them do the rest of the work.

I have to ask one final time.

What made Drake think it was a smart idea to go bar for bar in a lyrical war against a man who won a Pulitzer and has more than three times the amount of Grammy's he does?

RIP Drake, I guess. Didn't realize your entire legacy would be destroyed on a club beat. Ironic, actually.

[miss-musings]

Analyzing the Allegories in The Bad Batch Episode 3.05 "The Return"

I know a lot of folks out there love analyzing the metaphors and allegories in The Bad Batch Episode 2.09 "The Crossing." (This video has a great breakdown! I highly recommend it.) It really dives into Tech's psyche, his autism (or the Star Wars equivalent of it) and his bond with Omega.

And, as much as I love that episode, I have to admit: I love Episode 3.05 "The Return" even more so for a lot of the same reasons people love "The Crossing." It really dives into Crosshair's psyche, his trauma and his bond with his family (especially Hunter).

Both episodes are so rich and layered, giving us a lot of time for introspection in an otherwise fast-paced, action-packed show.

I'd like to present two allegorical readings for "The Return." While there is some overlap, they ultimately have major contrasts and reinterpret some moments very differently. They ultimately hinge on whether you want to interpret the Wyrm as a good thing or a bad thing.

Thus, you may prefer one over the other, or maybe you'll like both. Feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments/reblogs!

Author's Note: This will end up being the second part of a much longer analysis I want to write about 3.05 "The Return." But, this second part about the allegories wasn't as time-consuming as I imagine Part 1 about the character beats/analysis will be, so I'm tackling it first. Once I've written Part 1, I'll update this intro section with a link. Cheers!

Allegory #1: The Wyrm is a Good Thing

The one overlapping point between both of these allegorical interpretations is that the Outpost base represents Crosshair, mainly his heart.

Like the Outpost, Crosshair was abandoned by the Empire. He served his purpose and was cast aside, set adrift. Now, he is alone, isolated and purposeless.

Additionally, Crosshair carries Mayday in his heart (which is something TBB composers recently confirmed on Twitter), and the Outpost is home to the last remnant's of Mayday and the other clones -- their helmets.

But while he carries memories of Mayday, Tech and other clones in his heart, he doesn't have anyone actively in his life. Just as the Outpost doesn't have anyone actively stationed there anymore.

Now, under Allegory #1, the snow represents Crosshair's trauma.

Just as the snow has covered the Outpost, Crosshair has been buried in trauma -- from many things, but especially from his experiences in 2.12 "The Outpost" and from his time on Tantiss.

The snow is emblematic of his trauma because the last time he was on Barton IV, he and Mayday are nearly buried in an avalanche and then they have to fight their way back through the snow-covered terrain, in a blizzard. While it isn't actively snowing at the Outpost in 3.05 "The Return," the snow that's covering the base has left it inaccessible.

Arguably, the snow can represent the specific trauma of losing a brother, because Crosshair audibly freaks out when Hunter falls into the crevasse. He's afraid of losing Hunter the same way he lost Mayday. He doesn't want to lose another brother to this planet and its snow.

So, just as the Outpost and Crosshair were both abandoned by the Empire, now they're both buried under the weight of the snow (or what it represents).

Now, enter: The Bad Batch.

Crosshair's family arrive at the Outpost and they take down the perimeter defense at the base. But, under Allegory #1, this is a Good Thing.

Because the Wyrm represents Crosshair's family, love and hope.

You can argue that the Wyrm represents Hunter specifically. They're the only two characters we see in the tunnels, and Crosshair has the remark about "I think I just made it angrier," which applies to both Hunter and the Wyrm at different points in the episode.

You can also argue the Wyrm represents Omega, because it shows up as they're talking about her. Plus, just as the Wyrm ultimately brings Hunter and Crosshair together and forces them to reconcile, so too does Omega. Plus, Hunter's line of "Not alone -- we'll do it together" can apply to facing the Wyrm as much as it does to eventually raising Omega.

But, ultimately, the Wyrm represents Crosshair's family (whether Hunter or Omega specifically) and the love and hope that they bring with them.

In the final shot of the episode, we see that -- even though the snow still covers the Outpost -- we also now see tunnels that the Wyrm created during its attack. They're essentially inlets into and/or outlets out of the Outpost now that weren't there before — a way through the snow.

Now that his family and their love and hope are back in his life, Crosshair has a way out and a way forward in life (or back to his family) that he didn't have before — a way through the trauma. He has their love and support. He has an outlet now.

(P.S. I also just love the idea of his family metaphorically wyrming their way back into his heart. LOL)

Allegory #1 fits better when you put it in the context of 2.12 "The Outpost" and the final scene in 3.05 "The Return."

Crosshair, in a very big character moment for him, takes the initiative and opens up to Hunter.

Crosshair in general, but in this episode specifically, is very closed off. Earlier in the episode, he avoided talking to Hunter, and wasn't forthcoming about his time on Tantiss or his experiences at the Outpost. Part of that is because of his personality, but a lot of it is because of his trauma.

But, at the end of the episode, Crosshair now feels comfortable enough to open up to Hunter. Arguably, he didn't really need to, at least not right then. He and Hunter had reached an equilibrium or understanding after facing the Wyrm together. Whatever anger and resentment they had for each other had dissipated.

Yet Crosshair feels he's ready to and needs to truly reconcile with his brother. Despite everything he's faced, he feels he has an outlet now, and he uses it and basically starts his healing process.

(PS - There’s a great side-by-side comparison of this scene vs. the S1 finale here.)

And, as I said, in the final shot we see the Outpost still covered in snow, but now there are tunnels going into/out of the base. There is now a way out, a way forward.

Allegory #2: The Wyrm is a Bad Thing

Just as in Allegory #1, the Outpost represents Crosshair -- isolated, abandoned and purposeless. But, now we're going to switch gears on what the Bad Batch and the Wyrm represent.

After months of isolation on Tantiss, Crosshair has his guard up. He isn't letting anyone in. He isn't letting anyone save him.

Until Omega.

It's clear from 3.01-3.05 that he has bonded with her in a way he hasn't bonded with anyone since arguably Mayday.

That's because he keeps letting people in, and then failing them and subsequently losing them -- his brothers, especially Tech; then Cody; and then Mayday. It's partly why he pushed Omega away so much on Tantiss. He definitely wanted her to increase her chances of escaping successfully by not risking breaking him out too, but he also didn't want to get emotionally close to her after failing and losing so many other people.

But, thanks to Omega, he escapes Tantiss and reunites with his brothers, and he suggests they go to the Outpost to pull more intel on Tantiss.

Under Allegory #2, by bringing them to Barton IV and the Outpost, Crosshair is inviting them into his heart. And the fact that the group debates whether Omega should go and that it's Omega who ultimately deactivates the sensors is significant.

The Bad Batch, specifically Omega, deactivating the Outpost’s sensors represents how they make Crosshair feel vulnerable again.

Just as the base’s guards were up until they (specifically Omega) deactivated them, so too were Crosshair's guards up until his family (specifically Omega) re-entered his life and his heart.

This is partly why, when Hunter confronts him about betraying their family and then the Empire, Crosshair goes for the proverbial throat by bringing up Hunter's insecurities about failing Omega.

For a combination of reasons, Crosshair is feeling vulnerable for the first time in a long time, and while Hunter had very reasonable concerns and questions, he picked the worst possible moment to confront Crosshair about it.

Enter: the Wyrm.

Under Allegory #2, the Wyrm represents everything that threatens Crosshair and his heart -- whether that's external threats like the Empire or Tantiss, or internal threats like his fear and trauma.

After Crosshair comes face-to-face with the Wyrm, his initial response is to confront it alone. He likely feels guilty for endangering his family by bringing them to the Outpost, and doesn't want to risk failing and subsequently losing them the way he lost Mayday and others.

However, Hunter and the others emphasize that Crosshair can't and shouldn't face the Wyrm alone -- that they have to do it together.

Hunter also says: "Then let's get to it, before it tears this place apart." Crosshair and his family have to work together to protect the base, the same way they have to work together to protect him.

Allegory #2 fits better in the larger context of Season 3, specifically everything that happens after this episode.

Crosshair insists on facing CX-2 alone in 3.07 "Extraction" and would've died if Howzer and the others hadn't saved him. He is alone in 3.11 "Point of No Return" when he misses the shot to track Omega's ship. And he feels like, because of his failures, he needs to spare Hunter and Wrecker by infiltrating Tantiss alone in 3.15 "The Cavalry Has Arrived."

But, just as the Bad Batch work together to restore the Outpost's defenses and protect it from the Wyrm, Crosshair is best protected when he is with his family -- when they are working together.

With prompting from Hunter, Omega helps Crosshair to start facing his physical and emotional trauma in 3.08 "Bad Territory." His brothers refuse to let him infiltrate Tantiss alone in 3.15 "The Cavalry Has Arrived," and after they get captured, Echo and Omega work to break them out. And, when faced with an impossible shot to save Omega from Hemlock, Crosshair makes it thanks to Hunter's support and Omega's faith in him.

These are situations he wouldn't have been able to navigate alone, just as he wouldn't have been able to face the Wyrm and protect the Outpost alone. Heck, even Batcher helps Crosshair find and save Hunter after he falls into the tunnel. He probably couldn’t have done that by himself.

Crosshair needed his family to support and protect him from both his external and internal threats, just as they protected the Outpost.

So, in the final shot of 3.05 "The Return," we see the ship flying away from the Outpost. The Wyrm's tunnels are visible in the snow -- reminiscent of scars or wounds -- but the Outpost is still standing, still protected.

Analyzing the Title, Final Thoughts

I honestly can't decide which allegory I like better. I think they can both be powerful ways to interpret and 'read' the episode. Let me know if you have any additional insights or opinions.

As I said, I really love how emotionally poignant and significant this episode is. Just like 2.09 "The Crossing" was about Tech and Omega's bond, 3.05 "The Return" is definitely about Crosshair's bond with Hunter specifically, but his family in general.

Like Jennalysis says in The Crossing allegory analysis, I also enjoy thinking of all the things a TBB episode title can refer to. The Return has a lot of options:

Crosshair's return to Barton IV, obviously

Omega's return to Pabu, and her return to Hunter and Wrecker

Echo's return to the Bad Batch family, even if temporarily

Under Allegory 1: Hope returning to Crosshair's life and heart, as Hunter alludes to in the final line: "And who knows? There just might be hope for us yet."

Under Allegory 2: Crosshair's physical and emotional return to his family; or said another way, allowing his family to return to his heart

There might be more but that's all I have for now. As I said, this will end up being Part 2 of a much larger analysis on the episode. I plan to write Part 1, which will break down Hunter and Crosshair's character beats and some other fun details, in the coming days.

Stay tuned! :)

[lynnlovesthestars]

"I wandered lonely as a cloud"

Pairing: Astarion x gn!Reader (afab for eventual smut) Genre: hurt, comfort. Angst, smut eventually. CW: gore, past trauma, abuse, reference to SA, ptsd, ocd, feeling of inadequacy, fear of rejection, fear of loneliness, anxiety, depression, intrusive thoughts[...] Setting: Act 2. Synopsys: "let's pretend we are not alone"

AN: Hello my stars, I haven't wrote a fanfic in a while, though this is a mix between a fic and a collection of one shots. The story is introspective, as we dwell in the story, our focus will be on two lonely souls that find solace in each other's touch. It will not be an action driven story, but fear not, It wont just be cuddles and kisses! (Though we'll have plenty of that) Anyways i hope you'll enjoy this, and you'll find comfort in it.

I'm also going to open a tag list, in case someone is interested. (if the taglist flops, you didn't see it) I'll link the form here so you can avoid leaving it in the comments if you prefer!

Form.

Playlist.

Masterpost.

Loneliness was a strange feeling, sometimes it sprouted when you least expected it, but it hit you the worst at night. It was a feeling you grew accustomed over time, it coated your days, your food, your eyes. In a way it became your way of knowing you were alive, that deep down that emptiness you felt, something akin to a heart was beating, though lonely.

Everyone could see when loneliness was hitting you the worst, cause in the morning you would be more tired, eyebags would sulk your face and you would be avoidant.

The Last Light Inn was finally in sight as you descended the dark and shadowy path that the group of harpers pointed to. The bright glow of encircling the area was the only sign that could point at your way.

Despite the rough welcome from Jaheira and the harpers, they offered you a few rooms so you could rest while you planned your next moves. Jaheira took it on herself to give you a briefing on all she gathered in the shadowlands, but she could clearly see the dark circles under your eyes, and she knew them very well. The eyebags of a leader that needed rest and a warm soup. Little did she know that whatever you felt inside, it was much more than that. It was the thug you felt in your chest, the yearning for even the smallest touch. The need of closeness, like a body pressed against your skin as you dozed asleep. It was the daydreaming of respite in someone else’s embrace, safe and tucked away, though in that moment you wanted to concentrate more on the situation at hand: looking for the beds, cause for once in the past weeks, you didn’t need to set up camp or gather wood, or even sleep on the floor.

The group was directed towards the hen, where the strange ox from the emerald grove was moo-ing about its food. Jaheira gave you a key that would open a hatch where extra rooms would be tucked away. As you descended down the staircase, a soft light glimmered at the center of the space, where four doors were scattered around the empty communal area. A small kitchen sat on the side, while a fireplace was opposite to it. 

Whoever resided here before the darkness hit this place, was probably the owner of the inn and their family. The space was left clean, the harpers kept it in good conditions as they took over the perimeter of the inn.

You dropped your backpack near a door as you took a glimpse of the rooms: all of them had a poster bed that could easily hold two people and a partition to hide a bathing corner.

You opted to divide the rooms with the support of a coin flip. It was nothing against Lae'zel, but when the coin fell and it assigned you to her, you contemplated if you could have set a tent in the middle of the road. Your brain started churning ideas as the rest of the group was knees deep discussing on the beds.

"Oh don't sulk, Astarion" Gale played with the elf as he shoved his elbow in his hip. "I'm not an awful bedmate" 

"There's no way, I'm sleeping in the same room with you again" Astarion whined as he turned his head the other way. Then it hit you. 

Astarion.

Lae, do you mind sharing a room with Gale?" You asked, lowering your tone.

"Tck, are you trying to bed me and Gale?" She shot you a cold glance as you feing ignorance. 

She could think whatever if it meant you wouldn't hear her complaining every night. If you had to share a room with someone, you were oddly more comfortable with the idea of sharing your space with Astarion, and maybe it was for the fact that you were already closer. Feeding him every night meant learning how to share a small space and a closeness you were not willing to share with much people. Then in those nights you couldn’t rest, you’d sit together in front of the fire as you opened up to each other. It was a slow process for both of you, a little at a time you’d feed each other with bits of your hearts. You even mentioned a few times about that loneliness that was always devouring you, though you made sure to sugarcoat it a little, and he was very understanding of the bits you gave him.

You felt that you'd be more at ease with someone that understood loneliness the way you did, someone that wouldn't cross the boundaries unless you allowed him, cause if there was something you liked about him, it was the work he was doing on himself, relearning behaviors he couldn't claim before. Like the meaning of the word 'no', and how to trust, though he still pretended he didn't like anyone.

It was a shield he would put on, so that he couldn't get hurt or worse, rejected. He shared it with you in another sleepless night.

Though elves didn't need to sleep, during meditation something very akin to dreams was happening: your mind would focus on events of the past, over and over again, and you weren’t fond of your past crawling out again unwanted. Nevertheless, you both enjoyed sleep, there was something about those hours of nothingness that it made you breathe. 

Your attention was quickly drawn back to the room when Astarion and Gale were still bantering when Lae'zel lost her temper. "I'm done with you" She pulled out her knife menacingly, a good way to keep Gale in check when he would cling.

She pointed the knife towards Astarion first. "Tck, you take your stuff to Tav" She ordered, everyone's eyes were wide as they witnessed how she put them in check. Then she pointed the blade towards Gale, not a second of hesitation in her voice. "You sleep with me. You take the bed, I take the floor." She didn't wait for anyone's opinion, she picked up her belongings and disappeared behind a door.

You could still hear her complaining through the closed door. "Tchk, I don't like beds anyways, they are too soft"

Deep down you appreciated what she did, she understood more than what she gave away, and you would have to thank her one of those nights.

Everyone looked at each other speechless, before taking their turn to leave. It was an odd silence, a rare occurrence in your not so little marry-band. 

The room was definitely better than what you could see from a glimpse. It wasn't big, but the bed was big enough to fit you and Astarion comfortably, while the partition was just enough to create a nice bathing corner.

The bed was made with a set of linen sheets, and covered with a thick duvet to fight the cold of the shadow-cursed lands.

You dropped your bag on the right side of the bed before making a beeline to the tub. You spent a solid two weeks only in the underdark, the lack of water to wash you was agony.

You made good use of your magic by filling the tub with it, and keeping it warm. You labeled create bonfire useless a long time ago, when you noticed it was not enough to even roast a goblin, but it worked wonders for baths when you were short on time.

You were quick to discard your clothes and sink in the hot water, the steam coated the mirror in the room, as you allowed the water to caress your body.

Only a few minutes in the water passed by, and you realized how exhausted you were. Your movements were slow as you scrubbed away the dirt and sweat from your skin. You untied your hair, finally relaxing your sore scalp as you took your time massaging in your shampoo.

You wanted to go out for dinner, but when you put on your clean clothes, and tucked yourself under the comforter, that inevitable loneliness started growing thick on your body.

You wrapped your arms around your pillow as for a moment you wanted to disappear. Though you didn't want to move from there, you grabbed a book from your bag, your mage hand opening it and holding it for you as you tried to get distracted.

What was worse than being touch starved and in severe need of affection? Picking up the wrong book.

A fantastical love story between gods. If the book could make Umberlee and Valkur fall in love and find balance then why were you still alone?

You wondered if your parents angered a god when they were younger, and as a curse you ended up being shadowed by the incessant feeling of loneliness. 

As Umberlee cradled against Valkur's chest, you couldn't take it anymore. You dispelled the hand, letting the book drop down on the bed, careless if you lost the page you were at.

Your eyes pooled with the familiar salty tears, that night in particular it felt harder to shield yourself from the pain. So before you could fully have control of your body, the warm tears were flowing out like a river. 

It was your routine, in a way, to just let everything out at night instead of bottling it up, though the warmth of the comforter was not enough to satiate the warmth you wish hugged your body, yet you still tried your best to imagine it was a warm body that was pressed against yours. A soft hug that was trying to shield you from the outside. A whisper that reminded you it was okay to feel like this. Yet at the end of the day, you simply hid behind the delusion.

You didn't know how long you stayed there, in that fetal position you couldn't help but ball yourself into. Even after you finished all your tears and all that was left of it was the stains on your cheeks and your wet pillow, before Astarion appeared from the door, you were still cradled in that position.

You didn't speak or move, you just sunk a little more under the duvet.

"I noticed you didn't join everyone for dinner." He walked to your side of the bed, you couldn't see him but you could follow his footsteps before feeling his cold hand tap on your shoulder. 

"So I brought you some food" His voice was a whisper, as he slowly looked around the room, and then to you. Trying to catch what was going on. Insight check: succeeded.

"I know you are not feeling well, darling." He sat on the side of the bed, his hand gently swiping away a lock of your hair so he could catch a glimpse of your face. "But you need to eat something" This was a side of Astarion which you rarely had the chance to see, it was reserved for those nights where you allowed him to drink from you: the ever so soft touch and a voice that felt raw, more.. intimate. It was something that always made you cry later when you'd be alone, the closest you've been to that kind of physical touch you missed so much.

So many nights you wondered if he would be this soft with everyone he'd bed, until he admitted he didn't know how to be kind, caring, sweet, if not for show, and he wanted to give you some kindness back. 

You risked so much for him, including your neck, so he wanted to give you back at least a soft touch before leaving you to sleep, or the closest thing to some affection that he could manage.

So whenever he'd give you even the smallest of touches, you'd bask in it, taking as much as you could even from those small interactions.

His voice shook you from your thoughts again, his thumb swiped away a tear you didn't know you were shedding.

"My darling, what's going on?" You could feel the concern snicker between the honeyed words, trying to coax an answer from your quivering lips.

You wanted to find an excuse, something that would be much more serious than feeling lonely, yet all you said was that last word, a pained croak that escaped your lips.

Your heart clenched tightly as he hesitated just for a moment, wondering how much he could do to help you, without scaring you away.

But then he sat up, he took off the outer layer of his clothes, almost making you wonder if he already brushed your pained confession aside. He quickly reached in his bag for his nightshirt and made his way under the duvet.

He didn’t forget, at all.

With his face to yours he leaned forward, his palm touching your warm cheek as he finally could see you better. You tilted your head, almost silently begging for that innocent touch. Yearning for it.

His thumbs slowly dried your skin, catching the tears that would spill.

You both laid there in silence, you closed your eyes to avoid his stare, which was concentrated in taking in your shivering body.

"I understand," He whispered, almost as if they were hiding from someone. "I feel lonely too, every night" His voice was just like a caress against your ears, though it hid your same pain.

You wanted to say something, but no words would come out. The tadpole in your head squirmed, reminding you of its abilities just for a second.

Astarion didn't hesitate nor forced you out as you probed his mind, and when you were safely tucked in there, you just allowed your thoughts to flow free. Your every emotion spilling like a cup of coffee on the floor, even- accidentally- some of those memories of the loneliest nights where you just wanted to give up.

As soon as you slipped out from his brain, you sunk your head in your pillow, trying to hide those tears that you were starting to hate so much.

You couldn't comprehend what was happening at first, until your warm skin met with Astarion's cold chest. His arms held you close as he waited for you to raise your eyes to his.

He didn't know what he was about to say or do, he just allowed his dead and touch-starved heart to take control. 

Your gazes mixed in the middle, the veil that usually covered his emotions was pulled away, exposing his own hurt, his own need for affection, before his words struck you.

It was the occasional broken syllables that caught your ear, the way his mouth twitched and twisted before finishing a sentence, and the way his body would stiffen as he'd almost felt like a plea. It was not just to comfort you that he did whatever he did, it was for him as well.

He needed it just as much as you did.

His words would still echo in your brain whenever he'd caress your cheek. 

"Let's pretend just for a few hours that we are okay, that we fell in love. Let's pretend to be vulnerable. I'll be here pretending until you need me to, cause at the end of the day, we both deserve to feel loved, even if only for a split second. Let's pretend we are not alone." It was something between a hopeful proposal and a sad begging, something that reverberated through you like nothing has ever done before. His eyes were barely open as he still held you, you could tell from the way his fingers lingered on your exposed skin that he was taking the most out of this, for the eventuality that you'd move away from your grasp.

Instead you leaned completely against him, your head resting against his chest as you nodded.

His body softened around yours, his legs intertwining with yours as he'd place a kiss on your head.

[wyllsravengard]

mutuals i know you don't know arthur morgan and a lot of you never will but i really need you to know how Moving and Compelling the cowboy game is like im being deranged of course and i do hyperfixate so often but arthur morgan is such a well written character he has such an amazing arc and genuinely it makes me sick thinking about him for more than a single minute. his entire story is based in this inevitable doom and its obvious from the beginning of the game that things are starting to go wrong. you learn about arthur slowly, and at the start - he's exactly the kind of man and protagonist you expect. he's cold and he's uncaring at least seemingly and he's awkward and he's badass and what every man who plays a game like this would want. but then he isn't. you start to play the game and you look at arthurs journal and you get to see him introspect and you get to view the sort of tenderness he sees the entire world with. he is so tender he is so thoughtful he is so considerate of nature and he takes so many things to heart. he has something to say and introspect of everyone he meets. he cares deeply about this world he's in and struggles so much to find a place with in. he admonishes himself and praises characters like charles who seem to be so good naturally. he believes deeply in his own evil and acts on, and he has a code sure - but he never feels good about what he does and it causes him such deep strife. he clings onto the life he has because its all he knows. being an outlaw is all he has ever known of himself, been like that since he was fourteen. just a boy and the two men who adopted him into his gang. he clings so desperately onto this belief that even when things fall apart, all arthur can hope for is that he can save those he cares about. its what he has always wanted deep down. its who he is which is someone who is sensitive and careful and wants deeply to live in a good world and be apart of a good world. the gang falls apart and everything goes to shit and where does that leave arthur? when young men and good men die? the man he admires as his father dies and whats left of them becomes the worst version of himself and so arthur, after all of this time, becomes his own man. at some point, he realizes what matters most to him is his brother and the woman he has a child with. and he realizes that he is simply afraid but what of exactly? of believing that he was good all along. of accepting that he has changed and that he was always good. its all so very complicated and shit starts to go down hill so quickly and just when you think it can't get worse - arthur goes to the doctor. hes sick. its tuberculosis. ailment that he received when he beat a man who couldn't pay his debts and committed a sin so great. arthur is going to die. he's sick. its not a bullet that will kill him but the weakness in his body. the same thing will happen to him in some crazy tragedy. arthur will give his life up for john and he won't regret it. he'll tell the shell of his father figure that he gave up everything for him. he will die alone in the mountains and see a stag bathed in yellow gold. but he will believe in goodness at the end because of a nun in saint denis and the woman mothering his little brothers child. he will believe deeply in the kindness of the world because he chooses to. arthur will die because he is doomed to die. there's nothing he can do except go, and he will never live to know what an impact he had on those around him. every life he's ever touched so profoundly effected by him and he never gets to find out. the man he used to admire so much, charles, buries arthur somewhere where the sun always rises. even in death he haunts the world of the game like a ghost. arthur morgan is dead and you'll hear him every where you go. john inherits his dead brothers journal and his guns and everything else and he learns a side to him he never knew. arthur morgan is dead and the world rippled in his absence like a drop of water pulsing through a lake. and he loved. most of all he loved the people around him. he loved.

[zenkindoflove]

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 21

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 488,773

3. What fandoms do you write for? ACOTAR (active), Crescent City (active), A Song of Ice and Fire (former), The Big Bang Theory (former), Twilight (former - not on AO3), That 70's Show (former - not on AO3).

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?  

The Pon Farr Hypothesis (Shenny, The Big Bang Theory)

The Sweet Vibrations Discovery (Shenny, The Big Bang Theory)

Burn Forever With Me (Elucien, ACOTAR)

Summer Heat (Elucien & Erixius, ACOTAR)

Our Hearts Still Beat the Same (Elucien, ACOTAR)

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes! I try my best to respond to all comments these days. I like having conversations with my readers!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don't do angsty endings. I'm very demure. Very mindful.

LOL, but no really, I almost always do some kind of hopeful/HEA kind of ending. But I have written some angsty drabbles. There is a Satharion drabble you can find in my drabble series called Mr. and Mrs. Ketos that is pretty sad for the prompt "to distract".

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Most of them. I'm a fluff girl. I think the happiest of happy is likely Burn Forever With Me because it's basically Elucien accepting the mating bond and going into a frenzy. Which how much happier can you get?

8. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes. Loads. At this point, the real question is when do I not write smut? And the answer is, not often.

My smut is very descriptive. I give people the manual. I like to make it immersive. I also have been told my smut is "smut with feelings" or "tender fucking". Which isn't to say it doesn't get raw and dirty. But I always am looking for what is the emotional core of this smut scene. How are they expressing love in this moment, even if it's one character snowballing cum into another's mouth? I also am always looking to make you kick your feet, even in the midst of a sex scene, so whenever I can, I try to show those little moments of tender touches that happen during sex.

9. Do you write crossovers? Yes! Actually I wrote a few crossovers when I was in That 70s Show fandom - notoriously cross overs with slasher films because loads of them had teenagers in the 70s haha. I haven't done one for ACOTAR yet, but I do have an ACOTAR/Crescent City Modern AU I've been thinking of for a while.

10. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not that I know.

11. Have you ever co-written a fic before? YES! Quite a lot. I've co-written with three authors. Two when I was in That 70's show fandom. And I've written two fics with my ACOTAR bff @crazy-ache and we have more plans in the future to keep writing together. I love co-writing. It's a great way to grow as a writer. And the creativity that comes from two brains is BIG.

12. What is your all-time favorite ship? I can't answer that. My OTPs are my children. All my ships I feel longing for, in different ways. I will say, I have been the most prolific with Elucien in terms of frequency of writing in a short amount of time. So clearly they have really touched a big part of me.

13. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I mean all the fics I abandoned when I was younger? Definitely those lol. But I actually don't have a desire to return to them.

14. What are your writing strengths? Dialogue. As seen above, I have written for a lot of sitcom fandoms, and when you write for those fandoms, you get practice with writing with sitcom cadence which really helps with writing pithy dialogue in other genres. I also think I am a very good introspective writer. I think I am best being inside characters' heads. I also do think I am good at smut. I wouldn't write it so much if I didn't think so.

15. What are your writing weaknesses?  SHUTTING THE FUCK UP. No seriously, I do tend to be on the wordy side. It's one of the reasons I get into drabble moods because I do need to learn to be more concise and try to execute a scene without making it 5000 words. I also write very wordy sentences that need to be slashed and slashed.

16. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Oh, I doubt I'll be able to do that. I only know English.

17. First fandom you wrote for? That 70's Show!

18. Favorite fic you’ve written? Ack! Okay, that is so so hard. I don't even know what I'd say. I guess, if I had to absolutely choose, I would say Summer Heat because I think it is emblematic of all my skills as a writer in one fic. And it's the fic I introduced Alexius - the first OC I ever fully fleshed out and developed, and that will ALWAYS hold a special place in my heart because Alexius has given me so much confidence I never knew I had being a writer. He's really let me know that I can write original content with original characters on my own and shown me how to do it.

~~~~~~

No one tagged me 😭. But I ended up doing this anyways because I've been really wanting to and I decided I'd rather risk being a loser. But, to make sure no one else feels like a loser who wants to do it, I'm tagging everyone I can think of that I don't think I've seen do this. Sorry if you're tagged again and you did this! And if I didn't tag you I'm sorry. Please just be like me and go for it. At least we did it together!

@crazy-ache , @the-darkestminds , @olenvasynyt , @bonecarversbestie , @starsreminisce , @lucienarcheron , @teddyhoneybear , @jules-writes-stories , @avabrynne , @theshadowsingersraven , @tilseptemberends , @ataraxiasflame , @highlordofkrypton , @summerbummin , @sadiegirl2021 , @lovely-vanserra-sunshine , @sad-scarred-sassy , @yaralulu , @fieldofdaisiies , @dawneternal , @secret-third-thing

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi!! Love your acc, it's really useful for fics <33 I was wondering if you knew any fics that elaborated on the morgue scene (the one where john beat up shrelock) bc i always felt it was very brushed over in the series and frankly i think it needed to be elaborated on more.

Hey Nonny!

Ahh, yeah, I think I've been asked this a few times and I've just not ever posted a proper list. So because I need a list for this week, here's all of my TLD-adjacent fics I found doing a tag-search AND from old replies to other asks! Hope you enjoy, and add your own if you have them, friends!

TLD FIX-ITS / AFTERMATH of TLD 

BOOKMARKS

Bridges by sussexbound (M, 6,602 w., 1 Ch || Post-TLD / S4 Fix It, Love Confessions, Mending Relationships, Moving Back In, Pining Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Past Abuse, Shaving) – The silence between them is deafening, interrupted only by the hum of the traffic outside, and the soft click-clunk of the plastic cups Rosie is playing with on the floor beside them. It is the first time they have been alone together, since Sherlock’s birthday. It’s only been two days, but it feels huge, important, like there is a precarious bridge stretched out before them both that they need to at least attempt to traverse.

The In-Between by blueink3 (M, 10,679 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Parentlock, Fix-It Fic, Canon Compliant) – Beginning in a Chinese restaurant and ending at the bottom of a well, what about the moments we didn’t see?

Drawn to Stars by Silvergirl (E, 109,272 w., 60 Ch. || S4 Compliant to TLD / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Sherlock’s Italian Adventure, Sherlock/OC and Johnlock, Jealous John, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, First Kiss/Time, Idiots in Love, 3 Part Story, Slow Burn, Inexperienced Sherlock, Bottom Sherlock, Introspection, Multiple Alternating First and Third Person POV, Separation and Reconciliation, Emotional Love Making, Love Confessions via Letters, Angst with Happy Ending) – After the Culverton Smith case Sherlock is clean, working, and looking for a romantic partner—since John has told him that’s what he needs. Shame John didn’t mention he was interested in that role himself, before Sherlock went off to Rome with a gorgeous Italian copper to try to fall in love and become a complete human being.  Part 1 of the Drawn to Stars series

MARKED FOR LATER

toasting to grief by slylyaddictedtostories(T, 181 w., 1 Ch. || Poetry || Post T6T / TLD, Missing Scene) – John mussing over a drink about (missing) Sherlock and everything (he) they lost

Reconciliation by standbygo (T, 221 w, 1 Ch. || TLD Missing Scene, 221B Ficlet, Fix it Fic) – A missing scene from S4E2, "The Lying Detective". The hug was beautiful, but I wanted to add to it. My mother once said to me that you can forgive on your own, but you need to reconcile together.

My Heart Beats For You by jalexandria (M, 1,212 w., 1 Ch. || Hanahaki Disease AU || TLD Divergence, Angst, Non-Canonical Character Death, Sad Ending, Drugs, Pining Sherlock, Hurt John, Death Fic) – Things go very, very badly when John makes a horrible mistake.

Sherlock chooses himself by thewallflower07 (G, 2,035 w., 1 Ch. || Post TLD / No TFP, No Parentlock, Dialogue Heavy, Sherlock is a Mess, Sherlock and Feelings, John is Not Good, Angst) – Sherlock is a physical and emotional mess after John beats him bloody during the Culverton Smith case. He visits his therapist, who tells him to be selfish for the first time in his life. When John appears with his daughter and asks him to move back, Sherlock has to make a very difficult decision.

Reasons Wretched and Divine by Anyawen (G, 2,218 w., 1 Ch. || TLD Fix-It, John Has Issues, Admissions, Apologies, Explanations, Conversations, Emotions, Injury Recovery, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Fic, Drama & Angst, Declarations, Suicide, Assault, Marriage, Death, Drug Use, Guilt) – In the aftermath of Smith's arrest, John faces his anger and his regrets, exposing his vulnerabilities to Sherlock. They find ways to heal together.

Antiseptic by LipstickDaddy (G, 3,599 w., 1 Ch. || S4 / TLD Fix-It, Unseen Moments, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional / Psychological Abuse, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions, Protective Mycroft, Protective Greg, BAMF Mrs Hudson, Requited Unrequited Love) – What did John hear on that secret tape from Culverton’s hospital?

It Is What It Is by SpookyPorg (T, 3,874 w., 1 Ch. || TLD Fix It, Angst, Hug Scene, Love Confessions, Pining, Happy Ending, Making Out, Grief, First Kiss / Time) – After the very traumatizing events at the hospital, and John's heroic last-minute rescue, Sherlock is recovering at 221B. Doing his part to keep Sherlock under strict supervision, John pays a visit to his old flat for the first time in months. Reconciliation leads to confession.

The Tragedy Of Us by LipstickDaddy (G, 3,898 w., 2 Ch. || Post TLD, Angst, Romance, Tragedy, Hurt / Comfort, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Miscommunication, Requited Unrequited Love, Ambiguous / Open Ending) – John reflects on his relationship with Sherlock while the man is convalescing in hospital— twice.

wires Series by highfunctioningsociopath (M, 5,000+ w. across 2 works || Series WiP || Post T6T / TLD, Angst, Hurt / No Comfort, Loneliness, Mind Palace, Survivor Guilt, Mental Health Issues, Drug Addiction / Abuse, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Sherlock POV, Missing Scenes, Introspection, Psychological Trauma, Abusive Relationships, Grey Mary, Withdrawal, Depression, Self-Esteem Issues) – The road to Hell is paved with good intentions, after all. It just so happens to be lined with self-destruction.

I Want to Hear You Say It by LollipopCop (M, 8,000 w., 2 Ch. || TLD / S4 Fix It, Suicidal Thoughts, Heavy Angst, Love Confessions, Suffocation, Crying, First Kiss, Pining Sherlock, Happy Ending) – Instead of making Sherlock say he doesn't want to die, Culverton Smith forces Sherlock to repeatedly confess that he loves John before his death.

The Waning of Withdrawal by LoloLolly (E, 8,248 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TLD Fix-It, First Kiss, First Time, Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Alcoholism, Mentions of Drug Addiction, Sexual Identity, Panic Attacks, PTSD, Sherlock's Scars, Bed Sharing, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Grief, Guilt) – Sherlock holds a weeping John in his arms and… does something that will forever change things between them. For better or worse. He fears the latter.

Slowly Suffocating by meet_me_in_samarra (M, 9,500 w., 7 Ch. || TLD Fix It, Suffocation, Hurt / Comfort, Whump) – Getting suffocated took some time. Enough time for Sherlock to ponder what went wrong. Hopefully also long enough for John to arrive and rescue him. Culverton Smith applied more pressure, impatient to turn Sherlock into a dead thing. A continuous story written for Whumptober 2023, following the 31 prompts for each day.

And Then There Were Two by NimWallace (T, 10,194 w., 20 Ch. || Post S4, Mutual Pining, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Angst, Grief / Mourning, Mystery, Cults) – It's quiet at Baker Street. Too quiet. It's been a year since Mary died, but only a few months since the events of the Final Problem, and Sherlock and John have fallen into a state of despairing and monotony. So when a case involving a vicious cult on the English Country side appears, they quickly jump to go undercover as Sean Harmony and John Wales. But how can Sherlock keep a delicate John from breaking? And how can John come to terms with his love for his detective? Most importantly, what really happened the night of the Final Problem?

The Death and Resurrection of a Beekeeper by shiplocks_of_love (M, 12,922 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || TLD / S4 Fix-It Fic, Sherlock’s Retirement, Sussex / Seaside, Brief Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Emotional Trauma, Angst with Hopeful Ending, Estranged Friends to Lovers, Partial Epistolary, No Eurus) – Sherlock escapes London for a quiet, solitary life in Sussex, exhausted after the whirlwind of drama following Mary’s death. One day, a letter arrives.

A Midnight Clear by khorazir (T, 13,120 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas-Carol Inspired || Post S3/Post-TLD / TFP Doesn't Exist, Christmas, Angst, Fluff, Pining, Canon-Typical Violence, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Magical Realism) – It’s Christmas Eve, and Sherlock is working. Because that’s what he does. He doesn’t need Christmas, or holiday cheer, or even company. He’s fine on his own, thank you very much – until a series of strange encounters on his way back to Baker Street makes him reconsider.

The Ashes on the Ground by 221Beloved (M, 13,545+ w., 5/22 Ch. || WiP || Post-TLD, Miscommunication, Pining, Depression, Angst with Happy Ending, POV Sherlock) –What happens after? After the fire has burnt down and left nothing but ashes? Roughly two and a half years after what happened at Smith's hospital, things have settled. But have they really? Or is it all still hovering. And what if someone whirls up the ashes again? An old acquaintance. Can something new arise from cold ashes? Something stronger?

Entitled by Ranowa (T, 14,023 w., 2 Ch. || TLD Timeline, Canon-Typical Violence, Drug Use, Paternal Lestrade, John’s a Bit Not Good, Sherlock is a Mess) – Lestrade draws a line, because he knows Sherlock won't. 

Hope is a Subtle Glutton by isitandwonder (E, 15,753 w., 1 Ch. || No Johnlock, Sherlock/OMC, Racism, Aftermath of Violence, Happy Ending) – This is a story about Sherlock Holmes finally finding love and the happiness he deserves - just not with John Watson.

Angry Men by FawnHickory (M, 16,975 w., 16 Ch. || WiP || Post TLD Morgue Incident, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Self Examination, Big Brother Mycroft, Past Abuse, Sad Sherlock) – Greg gave John some things to consider in Destroy Him. John faces some uncomfortable truths about himself. Part 2 of the A Good Man and An Angry Man

What It Can Be by amaruuk (T, 18,310 w., 1 Ch. || Post TLD, Healing Friendship, Mutual Pining, First Kisses, Cake) – "Which is why we're all taking it in turns to keep you off the sweeties." With the help of his friends, Sherlock is healing from drug overuse and physical injuries. He is also trying to salvage his friendship with John with the hope that, perhaps, they can make it something more.

Hot Water Bottle by khorazir (T, 18,436 w., 1 Ch. || Post TLD / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Communication, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Autumn, Bed Sharing, Developing Relationship, First Kiss) – A case in one of the remotest corners of the Lake District, a storm, an inn, a broken boiler, a room with two beds but only one hot water bottle, and two men who have a lot to sort out between them – all of this makes for a night to remember.

Contrition by sussexbound (E, 18,556+ w., 5/? Ch. || WiP || Post-S4/TFP Didn’t Happen, Rosie Doesn’t Exist, T6T/TLD is Canon, Year After TLD, Light BDSM, Soft Dom Sherlock / Sub John, Punishment, Light Bondage, Light Masochism / No Sadism, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Tenderness, Aftercare, Forgiveness, Edging, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Mutual Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Frottage, Communication, Sexual Negotiation, Sexual Tension, Spanking, Head Injury, Anal Sex) – “You’ve been tense ever since we got back, itching for a fight, all your usual tells, but why…?” The truth strikes like lightning. “Oh… Oh! You’re not angry at me. Not this time. Well—maybe a little. But mostly, mostly you’re angry at yourself. Why? For falling behind? For not being there in time. For not taking Wilkes down fast enough?” Sherlock waves a dismissive hand. “It doesn’t really matter.” He lifts a finger to his swollen cheek and cut eyebrow. “You blame yourself for this. And you offered to fix it. But I wouldn’t let you, and… But that’s not what you really want, anyway, is it?” John looks stunned, a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming lorry, frozen, waiting for the lethal strike. “You don’t want me to let you help. At least not right away. No. What you want, what you really want is—punishment.”

The Nearer Your Destination by Silvergirl (E, 18,949  w., 6 Ch. || Post-TLD, Established Relationship, Wedding, Venice Honeymoon, Parentlock, Jealousy) – After a December wedding, Sherlock takes John to Venice for a February honeymoon. It's absolutely perfect, up until the moment he hears John growl, "What the hell is Zanardi doing here?" Part 4 of the Drawn to Stars series

Repentance by LollipopCop (E, 19,782 w., 2 Ch. || Post-TLD/Post S4 Fix It, Not TFP-Compliant, John-Centric, Angst, Self-Loathing, Hugging, First Kiss/Time, Rosie, Love Confessions, Crying, John’s Issues) – John cannot understand why Sherlock even wants to look at him after the horrible way he acted, and his guilt is destroying him. Why doesn’t Sherlock snap at him, scream at him, treat him the way he deserves?

The Slings and Arrows of Outrageous Misfortune by Sherlockwatsonholmesblog (M, 20,455+ w., 4/7 Ch || Post TLD, Five Stages of Grief, Estranged Friends to Lovers, Implied / Referenced Suicide, Self Hatred, Slow Burn, Emotional Trauma, Recovery) – There seems to be something tragic in a friendship so coloured by romance, for they have loved each other immensely. However, Some Days, love isn’t enough. Sherlock and John persevering, as always.

Becoming Us (A reunion in three parts) by addicted2hugh (E, 23,207 w., 3 Ch. || S4 Fix It, Pining Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Sherlock, Hurt/Comfort, Protective John, First Time, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Light Parentlock, Bottom Sherlock, Self-Harm, Drug Addiction, Sherlock is a Mess) – After watching Mary's last message, Sherlock and John try to be the "Baker Street Boys" again. Rebuilding the destroyed flat is the easy part. Will they manage to rebuild their friendship as well? And what did Mary mean when she said: "And if I'm gone, I know what you could become."?

Danger Nights by khorazir (T, 23,591 w., 3 Ch. || Post-TLD, Friends to Lovers, Mentioned Parentlock, Pining, First Kiss/Time, Winter, Folklore, Wales, Spooky Elements, Bed Sharing, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Spooky Elements) – According to folklore, the nights between Christmas and Twelfth Night are the most dangerous of the year. During them, the Wild Hunt rides, and ghosts and demons come out to haunt unsuspecting and misbehaving folk. An investigation of a series of strange occurrences leads John and Sherlock to Hay-on-Wye on the Welsh Marches, to face ghosts weird and ancient as well as close and personal – and perhaps to start the new year on a more hopeful note than the previous one.

the silence of your words by dyingofangst (E, 27,326 w., 6 Ch. || Post TLD / TFP Isn’t Canon, Case Fic, Estranged Friends to Lovers, Kidnapping, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Bed Sharing, Night Conversations, Self-Esteem Issues) – Three years after John decided to distance himself from Sherlock, Rosie is kidnapped and John asks for Sherlock's help. But they're not what they used to be, and even if they learned how to heal on their own, there are still many things left unsaid between them, things they'll have to put aside to focus on finding Rosie, while both hoping it's not too late.

under the burden of solitude by subtext-is-my-division (E, 27,947 w., 5 Ch. || S3/S4 Fix It/Post TLD, Angst, Grief/Mourning, First Kiss, Mentions of Rape, Hurt/Comfort, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Fantasies, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Suicidal Thoughts Mentions, Five and Ones) – Five times they shared a bed platonically, and one time they didn't.

Entangled by missselene (E, 29,044 w., 13 Ch. || Original Male Character, One-Sided Johnlock, Online Dating, Lonely Sherlock, Dancing, First Kiss, Oblivious John, Dev. Rel., Jealous John) – Sherlock knows John will never return his feelings. So what if he decided to look for love elsewhere? Part 1 of the Sherlock & Sanjay series

Lessons in Astronomy Series by CaitlinFairchild (E, 31,164 w. across 3 stories || Angst, Post S3, Grief/Mourning, Mildly DubCon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Physical Abuse, Oral/Anal Sex, Unrequited Love, Pining, Sibling Incest (No Actual Holmescest), Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism, Drug Addiction, Romance, Dev. Rel., Trust Issues, Happy Ending) – In a different time, a more naive time, Sherlock thought he was the star and John the satellite, circling him in worshipful orbit. He knows now that was never true. John was always the sun, bright and fierce, and Sherlock was the pale, cold moon, his only heat coming from the light he reflected. And then his sun went into supernova. Moriarty said he would burn him and he has, and John is the fire, his rage and grief incinerating Sherlock, burning the heart out of him in the end, turning him into nothing but cinder and ash. And now the supernova is collapsing, a black hole born where there was once warmth and heat and love, and Sherlock is being pulled down, down past the event horizon, into the endless frozen void where nothing can ever escape.

A Case for Domestic Propinquity by SilentAuror (E, 32,308 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TFP / Post S4 Fix It, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Domesticity) – As Sherlock and John renovate Baker Street with Rosie underfoot, Sherlock can't help but wondering how he could possibly convince John to just stay indefinitely... [TRANSLATIONS: 中文-普通话國語] | Русский]

Afghan Bullets, Beards, and Unlocked Bedroom Doors Series by addicted2hugh (E, 38,761+ w. across 2 works || WiP || Post-S4, Bearded John, Porn With Feelings, Friends to Lovers, First Time, Virgin Sherlock, References to Canon, Flashbacks, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Drug Use, References to Suicide, Grief/Mourning, Top Sherlock, Reunion) – Set after series 4. The boys are living together again, and John's new style drives Sherlock crazy. He's trying to keep his besotted heart and over-excited libido a secret, but John has other plans. Lots. Of. SEX. And love.

A Thing With Peas by khorazir (M, 39,5537 w., 3 Ch. || Post-S3/Post-TLD/TFP Doesn't Exist, Fluff and Angst, Communication, Demisexual Sherlock, Asexuality, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Idiots in Love, Friends to Lovers, Developing Relationship, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Parentlock, First Kiss) – Sherlock does the laundry. John cooks a thing with peas. They talk. Finally.

Limerence by SherlockWatson_Holmes (NR, 41,763 w., 17 Ch. || S4 / TLD Fix It, Character Death, Drug Use, Slow Burn, Angst with Happy Ending) – Limerence (noun); The state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person: typically characterised by a strong desire to maintain a relationship with the object of love and have one’s feelings reciprocated. S4 fix-it, starting on the tarmac.

Nocturne by SilentAuror (E, 47,927 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4 / S4 Fix It, Trauma, Bed Sharing, Friends to Lovers, POV John, Sherlock Whump) – When Sherlock is injured at a crime, an avalanche of suppressed trauma opens up. John ends up moving into his bedroom to ward off the nightmares, hoping against hope that this arrangement can last indefinitely. This is a story of nights spent together, trauma recovery, and John finally learning some truths long hidden.

The Night Is Darkest by missselene (E, 48,461 w., 8 Ch. || Post-TLD, Extremely Dub Con, S4 Rage Monster John, Insecure Sherlock, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Exploration, Healing, Self Care, Self Acceptance, Sexual Exploration, Casual Sex, Gentle Sex, Sherlock/OMC, Threesome with 2 OMCs, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Communication, Internalized Homophobia, Relationship Negotiation) –  Sherlock Holmes would do anything for John Watson... and that includes letting John do whatever he wants to him. What would it take for Sherlock to stand up for himself and finally start taking care of his own needs?

Borrowed Ghosts by DiscordantWords (M, 57,216 w., 10 Ch. || TLD Divergence / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Minor Lestrolly, Pining Sherlock, John’s a Mess, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Ghost Mary, Guilt, Forgiveness, Drinking, No Hug Scene) – In the aftermath of the Culverton Smith case, John spent one painfully stilted afternoon hanging out with Sherlock. He counted the minutes, finished his tea, and left for home without ever clearing the air between them.And once he'd left, he found it very hard to go back.

Lost In A Good Book by khorazir (M, 68,552 w., 6 Ch. || Magical Realism / Discworld Elements || Post TLD, Miscommunication, L-Space, Developing Relationship, Parentlock, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Bookshop) – After chasing a criminal into a poky second-hand bookshop, John and Sherlock find themselves not only stuck in the building, but in L-space itself. With things still raw and unsettled between them after the events surrounding the Culverton Smith case, this adds another dimension to their predicament, which not only constitutes of finding a way out of the shop (while avoiding getting murdered by the criminal), but also to finally address the issues between them.

This Would Make You Happy? by Ranowa (M, 71,217 w., 10 Ch. || Post-TLD Fix It, Past Viclock, Past Sherlock/OMC, Therapy, Protective John, Drug Use, Pining, Autistic Sherlock, Angst with a Happy Ending) – John, more than anything else, wants Sherlock to be happy. Sherlock, more than anything else, wants to make John happy. These two goals are not as in sync as one would think.

"Merry Christmas" I wrapped it up and sent it with a note saying "I love you" by starrysummernights (E, 135,132+ w., 30/31 Ch. || WIP || Post S4, Slow Burn, Mary is Not Nice, Christmas, Fluff, Smut, Angst, Parentlock, Past Torture / Rape) – John has moved back into 221B with his daughter Rosie after Mary was killed, but things are not exactly comfortable between him and Sherlock. After everything that has happened, they are trying to become friends again...and maybe something more. What better time than the Christmas season?! Takes place after TLD.

Limitless Ocean by angel-loving-star (M, 150,730+ w., 21/36 Ch. || WIP || Post-TLD / S4 Fix It, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, John's PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Sherlock Whump, Alcohol Abuse, Past Drug Addiction, Fluff, Parentlock, Coming Out, Nightmares, Panic / Anxiety Attacks, Dissociation, Alternating POV, Suicidal Ideation, Self-Harm Ideation, Internalized Homophobia, Closeted John, Angst, Insomnia, Domestics, Cuddling / Snuggling, Gay Sherlock) – Sherlock is recovering from the Culverton Smith case. But there are some things that time or body can't heal. When John and Rosie unexpectedly move back in 221B the day after Sherlock's birthday, nothing is as it used to be. Both he and John are treading on thin ice. It is only a matter of time until the first cracks appear. Until they begin to sink into the freezing waters of the ocean beneath, and are forced to face their demons, each other, and what has been lurking in the dark for far, far too long. Until it is only them, the promise of sky above the surface, and the limitless ocean flooding into their hearts.

The Chemist by TheGracefulBlueCat (M, 158,385 w., 46/? Ch. || WiP || TLD Fix-It, Drug Use and Withdrawal, Hurt/Comfort, Doctor John, Protective Mycroft, Sick Sherlock, Medical Procedures, Grief/Mourning, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Nightmares, Mental Health Issues, Victorian Sherlock, Asperger’s Sherlock, Sherlock Is Not Okay, Papa Lestrade, Drunkenness, Autistic Sherlock, Synesthesia, Insecure Sherlock, Angst, Sick Fic, Case Fic, Asylums) – Sherlock returns to Baker Street and faces detox. But he feels too exhausted and bad to go through it fully conscious, so he - once more - uses his mind palace to distract him with an old case. But due to his drug issues and the tension between him and John things don’t work as smoothly as everyone hoped they would, confronting Sherlock and all his friends with more of their demons than they would have liked to.

Radioactive Trees In A Red Forest by Maribor_Petrichor (E, 280,251 w., 73 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S4, Suicidal Ideations, Alcohol / Rx Drug Abuse, Coming Out / Bisexual John, Seizures, Past/Referenced/Implied Child Abuse, Hallucinations, Rehab, Celibacy, Sobriety / Relapse, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Psychological Trauma, Nice /Not Anti-Mary, John’s POV, Parentlock, First Time, Angst, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending) – John Watson is what happens when a man can no longer see a reason to go on. John Watson is what happens when a man starts to let go. "It is what it is." John Watson is what happens when what "it is" becomes too much to bear. This is a story of the life, death, and resurrection of John Hamish Watson.

[bp-zb1fics]

hi! I love your stories! <3 do you think you could do a suggestive taerae fic?

Thinking about

pairing: taerae x reader

pronouns: none used

genre: fluff, suggestive themes

tw/tags: not much plot or dialogue sorry, music metaphors, introspection, very sentimental, kisses, making out, non-explicit descriptions, taerae slight demisexual implications (this in no way reflects on the real person, fiction is fiction)

wc: 871

summary: in this game called love, taerae trusts you with his heart

a/n last req done before i focus on checklist reqs! thanks so much anon, i really hope you like it! i got a little poetic with this one and played around with italics so its very soft hours but not much happens, idk if that works or not so feel free to lmk!

Check my pinned for more fics~

“What are you thinking about, Taerae-ah?”

You’re sitting on the couch, his guitar on his lap, your hands in his as he traced over dip, curve and line. Pressing your palms together, skin against skin, stretching his fingers out to see if his hand is larger than yours.

“Hmmm, how your hands look next to mine.”

Being with you is never boring, in Taerae’s opinion. Because even when it seems boring to other people, there’s always something new and interesting for you or him or for both of you. He can spend afternoons with you and his guitar, strumming and singing for you until you join him. And maybe you’re not the best singer but he’ll still listen to your voice like it’s a dream he doesn’t want to wake from. (Sometimes love isn’t just blind but deaf too)

And the best part wasn’t you getting the harmony right or him hitting those impressive vocal riffs, no, it was the silly little songs you made up together, nonsensical lyrics and ridiculous ad libs that you end up laughing over. Because that’s what Taerae thinks about sometimes, when he’s about to go to bed, when he’s too tired to think of anything else. He’ll think about the way you laugh, the sheer joy of that tiny moment. There are some moments that he wished he could save in a time loop and live in.

“I love your songs.”

You tell him the day he gathered enough courage to play you something from the little notebook he keeps, lyrics and chords in his handwriting. He treasures that memory just like he treasures those days when you have enough time to sit down and talk for hours. Long conversations that stretch time so thin that it feels just like seconds ticking away.

“Play something for me, please?”

Play with my heart, Taerae thinks, because I’ve given it to you to take joy in, to keep you company on lonely days, to make you smile and laugh and remember only the innocence of life. I’ve given you my hand to hold in the playground that we call love and I trust you not to let go, not to abandon me, just as I make a promise to never leave you, to play the game of hearts until ours stop beating.

You two have a million playlists together. Each of them are a carefully curated, specifically arranged set of songs that Taerae and you create for every occasion. Birthdays, anniversaries, long drives, short drives, walks by the river, all saved to preserve the moments you spend loving each other.

There are also playlists for moments like this. Soft, sultry, dreamlike beats in the background as he lifts his guitar off his lap, places it carefully to the side and pulls you closer. His hands leave yours only to glide up your neck and cup your cheeks. 

Gentle kisses. His lips fit over yours like a missing puzzle piece. Pulling away only for a force stronger than gravity pulling them back in. Your hands holding the back of his neck. It’s a haze as he presses your back into the couch, his legs bracketing yours in between them. He only pulls away once your lips are swollen, when the need for oxygen overpowers his need to kiss you until you both feel like you're floating. Your eyes meet his and you laugh breathlessly as he smiles at you, so, so enamoured.

If he could write a song about you, it would be about love.

You tug him back down, one hand sliding into his hair, fingers in between strands. He shivers, bending down to press his lips below your ear, mapping out a path down your neck as you get a little more restless. Taerae is almost too warm and so are you. He stops at the base between you neck and shoulder, the press of his mouth a little firmer, teeth scraping over skin, tongue following as if to soothe. Your fingers are laced in his hair, your back arching just a little at the sensation. Then he pulls back, pressing kisses along your collarbones. Your hips jump just a little, brushing against him and he exhales slowly.

Taerae wasn’t really interested in girls. Or boys. Just you.

He’s interested in the way you shakily undo another button of his shirt between kisses, the way you tremble a little when his hands slide under the hem of yours, skin against skin, fingers stroking the sides of your waist. Nothing becomes more interesting than the sounds he can pull from you, the kind of music that sends jolts of heat down his spine. His favourite song is the way you call his name, sweet and wholly addictive.

In the afterglow, he can only look at you. He can only watch the way you watch him, with so much unbridled affection that his heart is bursting, spilling out the seams to show you how he feels about you. To keep showing you everyday until your heart decides to give out. And he hopes that when that day comes, that the way he chose to love you was enough. Because you were more than enough for him.

__________________________________________

“What are you thinking about, Taerae-ah?”

“I don’t know…” 

“...You mostly.”

[tobytost]

Gone are the days of profound introspection, of the profound struggle between light and darkness that gripped the souls of the Skywalker lineage. Instead, we are bombarded with a cacophony of hastily stitched-together moments, a reckless endeavor to cash in on the nostalgia of fans who yearn for the authentic essence of Star Wars.

The travesty lies not in the introduction of new characters, but in the shameless exploitation of Filoni's creations, a parade of familiar faces, manipulated like marionettes solely for the pursuit of profit. This disgraceful act of capitalistic fervor tarnishes the very core of what Star Wars stands for - rich storytelling, not a marketplace for mindless fan service.

Ahsoka, once a symbol of resilience and wisdom, is reduced to a mere pawn in this insipid spectacle. The series lacks cohesion, stumbling blindly through a disjointed narrative, its seams frayed and its purpose lost amidst the clamor of commercialism.

And yet, amidst this desolation, there shines a glimmer of hope. The Andor series stands as a testament to the enduring spirit of Star Wars, a beacon of excellence that refuses to succumb to the laziness and carelessness that plague the Ahsoka production. Rebellion in its truest form! It proves that the heart of this galaxy still beats with the pulse of genuine storytelling, not the shallow echoes of what once was.

[cult-of-the-eye]

Tim Stoker angst anyone?

Tap tap tap. His foot knocked against the floor, knee pressing against the table in those precious seconds of contact. Veins fizzed beneath his skin, pulling taut as if it was just about to break. Something clawed at his gut, pressure but not the good kind. It wasn’t right. None of it was right. Forces inside him pulled, pushed, pressed and grated until he was sure someone would find his remains splattered over the desk. 

At least they’d find them, he thought, miserably. Maybe that was his issue. He had never been good at pinning down his whirlwind of thought, racing past his synapses too fast to register. “What’s wrong?”, was always the most evasive. There was one constant though, one corner of his brain that was enlarged and raw, a locked chest made of a human heart. Danny. Most of his problems he could blame on Danny, it just took him an unfortunate amount of time to get there. Amidst shallow breaths and screaming muscles, introspection was far from his priority. 

“Tim?”

“Heugh. Yeah?”

Jon ignored his taut outburst of breath. Jon was very good at ignoring things.

“Are you alright?”

“I don’t know, Jon. Does it look like I’m alright? Do I look okey-dokes to you?”

He didn’t feel bad dumping sarcasm on Jon, despite him reacting like it was a bucket of ice-cold water. He didn’t notice the slight widening of his eyes. Nope. 

“Ok. I apologise for interfering.”

He turned to leave, head hung. How could an angle of a neck enrage him so much? It felt good, satisfying deep within his bones to mitigate pressure with another volcanic one. 

“Of course. Jon gets to have the moral high ground for checking in on his employees.”

“I don’t see what you’re implying.”

“Oh fuck off Jon. I mean that from the bottom of my heart. You don’t give a flying fuck about me and my well-being and if you did, well, that time is very much gone. Everyone’s gone, Jon and all you’ve done is shut yourself in your goddamn office and convince yourself that you’re all alone. You wouldn’t have been all alone if you had just talked to me. But you didn’t so all you have left is fucking creepy clown shit.”

The anger rose in his throat, almost choking on it. He stood from his desk, a sudden boost of dizzying energy. 

“So no. You don’t get to come back and pretend you care. You don’t get to ask how I am. You wanted to do this yourself? Well, be my fucking guest. Go get killed. Go get skinned by evil circus mannequins for all I care. Just leave me alone.”

His hands were bright red. All the blood rushed from his head into his palms, making them uncomfortably moist. The pounding that reverberated throughout his entire body was gone, leaving an absence, a double beat of a heart stretched thin. Jon could have left. He could have shouted back. He could have strode over and slapped him across the face. But he stood there, frozen, a look of deep sadness etched across his features. It ran a palm over his oversensitive veins, making him shudder with discomfort. 

“I’m sorry, Tim. And happy birthday…to Danny, I mean.”

With that, his legs gave out. He crashed back onto the chair, hoping the desk could cool his flushed face. He was back to an emotion he was comfortable with, one that he knew all too well. Thoughts collided like particles in a gas - he barely noticed Jon slip out of his vision. He was gone. And once again, Tim was alone. 

[dlstmxkakwldrlarchive]

(article) SHINee's ONEW hopes to make people happy with his songs

Singer Onew of popular K-pop group SHINee has been deeply thinking about happiness, a theme that heavily influenced his latest release."I think it's wonderful to be someone who can have a positive impact on others and make them happy," he said during an interview Thursday with a group of reporters.

"It's a great merit that I can lift someone's mood. When people tell me they've been comforted by my songs, it feels like I'm truly living," he said.

This introspection led to the creation of his third individual EP, "Flow," a departure from his previous albums -- his first solo album, "Voice" (2018), second EP titled "Dice" (2022) and first full-length solo album, "Circle," (2023) -- which centered primarily on his distinctive voice and emotional expression.

Instead, "Flow," due out Tuesday at 6 p.m., is designed to resonate more broadly with the public, featuring songs that are easy to follow and enjoy together.The album is led by "Beat Drum," an upbeat pop track characterized by "kitsch" vocals in the chorus and a synth melody, according to promotional material from his label, Griffin Entertainment. The lyrics compare the feeling of a racing heart to the rhythm of a drum beat.

Also included are five B-side tracks, all of which maintain a bright and cheerful tone.

"I wanted to become closer to the public, so I put a lot of effort into making songs that are easy to follow," the 34-year-old explained. He also tailored the choreography to be accessible, allowing more people to catch on after just one viewing. "I hope even those who don't know me can feel a bit of positive energy," he added.

Onew stressed that while his unique voice and emotional depth will continue to be central to his music, his current focus is on expanding his positive influence.

The vocalist also has a goal of creating his own performance brand.

"I think a concert becomes richer and more enjoyable when many people can immerse themselves in it and have fun together. I want to create an atmosphere where it's not just a performance by me, but an experience where everyone can play together," he shared.

After taking a hiatus of over 10 months due to health issues, Onew returned to the stage in May.

During the break, the vocalist had the opportunity to attend a Coldplay concert in the United States.

"I loved the excitement and anticipation that I felt while waiting for the show," he said, expressing hope that audiences would experience the same thrill at his concerts.

Performing in front of fans and reuniting with his bandmates were what he missed the most as he recovered from neck surgery. He lost so much weight after the surgery, making his fans feel concerned and worried about his health.

"Now, I'm in great shape. In fact, I'm so well that it's almost a problem," he said with a laugh.

He spent a lot of time traveling to places like the U.S., Japan, and Austria during the break, giving himself the space to think deeply on his own.

"While traveling, I learned how to fail. There was a time when I tried to catch a train during a typhoon and ended up sitting on the platform for six hours. Sometimes, things just don't work out. But I realized that you can always try again later. That was the biggest lesson I learned."

After this realization, Onew changed his attitude about performing. He used to believe he couldn't go on stage unless he was 100 percent perfect, but now he's more open to taking risks.

This new attitude led him to boldly take on producing for the first time while working on this album.

"I challenged myself by getting involved in producing, selecting demo tracks, trying out different ideas, and communicating with writers to incorporate my thoughts into the songs. It was a big challenge, but it was a fun experience," he recalled.

Onew also tried his hand at rapping for the first time.

"I was debating whether to use more melody or try rapping," he said.

He thought rapping might work, so he gave it a shot, and fortunately, it turned out well.

"This new challenge has become a great motivation for me," he said.

He has also started taking guitar lessons recently because he wants to play during his concerts.

"I read somewhere that singer Lee Hyori said she started learning something new and that in 10 years, she could become an expert. So I thought, 'It's not too late. If I start now, I could be playing in 10 years too.'"

[sp00kymulderr]

Pairing: Ezra x reader

Warnings: Angst, injury detail, blood mention, vague ending (happy or not is up to you).

Word Count: 2k

A/N: For my Pedrostories Secret Santa giftee @djarinmuse - happy holidays! I hope you don't mind that this is completely un-festive and I took some liberties with prompts, but I'm excited that I got to write my favourite space man in an introspective, angsty situation so thank you! I hope you like the fic! To follow for fic updates only go to @sp00kyupdates​ or see taglist details on my masterlist. Header by me. Credit to banner maker.

It is impossible to ignore the abundance of fear in his chest.

The way his heart is beating almost out of it, the abject horror of the reminder that you had been here just moments ago when he sees the empty campsite with a past presence still lingering warm and your scent still in the air. That perfume you’d found on another nameless planet on another forgotten job. His heart suddenly ripping in halves in a way he had never known it could do, because that scent is fading, and you aren’t here.

Your tatty sleeping bag of a bed is empty, no sign of life in the small perimeter you together call a home while you do yet another standard of grunt work for yet another corporation who would never even know your names. 

Ezra had known the place wasn’t safe. Reports from the surface that he’d warily read had told him as much but you’d both agreed the credits were too good to pass up. That you’d keep each other safe.

You’d keep each other safe.

Kevva, what had he done? Why had he felt the need to leave you alone for those few moments that suddenly felt far, far too long.

It wasn’t the first time this had happened, prospecting being a famously a dangerous profession but especially now when the sites were drying up, planets dug to their end, the precious aurelac gems becoming rarer and rarer. The last time…Ezra hesitates to think of how he’d seen his partner killed for nothing more than a few meagre stones and Ezra had done nothing to help. 

Nothing but ran and protected the things that were his. He was inherently not a good man.

He should run now. Take the remaining spoils of the dig and find his way to safety like always.

He should run.

Run.

But for you. For this partnership…

The thought of turning away makes his chest tighten – for a man who felt himself slipping from humanity for so much of his life he was now becoming alive with it. In him now he could barely fathom the thought of you being gone - you who has chosen to partner up with him for whatever unknown reason. You who had given him a reality beyond just drifting from place to place, space to space, despite his own nature.

No one had seen anything more in him ever since he was a boy. That was the reality of growing up a rock-hopper, adrift through all his life, but then you came and offered him this partnership and showed him that perhaps there was something else in him.

That perhaps he was a better man than he’d ever thought.

With a determined breath, Ezra pulls himself from the shock of your empty campsite and makes a decision, pushing against his own nature. He will be the man you see him as. No running. Ready to do whatever it takes to make you safe, to make sure that the same fate that had befallen his last partner would never come to you. He had to make sure.

Searching around the area with a trained eye with tracking skills picked up through the cycles of dangerous living, Ezra’s mind wanders to the stories you had shared with him of the places you had been and the people you had met. You were a survivor but more than that. You lived. Your resilience was always the thing that those stories reminded him of the most; your ability to adapt. Of course, you can handle yourself. But every part of him shakes with the need to make sure of your safety, keep you alive…he can’t let you be anything else.

Ezra feels overcome with need to be a better man. The partner you deserve. You had always been more of a partner than he ever deserved.

Grabbing the pistol that had been haphazardly strewn, likely in your struggle though he tries not to think of that, he steels himself to follow the minimal signs of the direction you may have taken. Bravery was in truth never his strong suit. He was never taught to live bravely; his life has always always been about self-preservation and so little else. Growing without family, without a name, he hadn’t thought to care for anyone else – not the way you did. Not the way you softened edges and crawled into small places in people to make them more.

He starts walking slowly, every step sending surges of that cold fear through his veins; the fear of the unknown, the fear of what he might find. He doesn’t want to find what he fears, but he has to. He can’t turn back now. He can’t. As Ezra walks his eyes keep darting back and forth, searching for any sign of life and any sign of you. He keeps his pistol ready, just in case.

---

You're vaguely aware that you've been left to bleed for some gems so small the credits would barely cover a month of ship maintenance let alone a comfortable life. It makes you laugh a little, the absurdity of it. The men had left you badly hurt; no mercy of peace afforded to you but thankfully also no threat of worse than death was made to you.

They must have been watching. They must have been waiting for Ezra to leave, determining that he was the threat. The danger.

People often make that judgment of him.

You sigh a shaky, weak thing that bubbles in pain at the thought of the man, your partner, thrumming in your head. He'd be looking for you. Of course he would. His heart was in the right place always, even when he believed his mind not to be. You'd been prospecting together for enough cycles to know that of him, and more too.

It occurs you might die here, but kevva were you lucky to know more of the starlit man who'd made his home in your life over this time. That would be your biggest regret, never having known him more - never having seen his soul in truly the way it deserved to be seen. Silly as it was you'd fantasised time and again about seeing him safe and warm and happy in ways that you knew Ezra has never been. He deserves a life more than the one he has had to live.

Your only wish now if he doesn't find you, is that he gets that.

Truthfully Ezra had been something unusual for you, a gem in his own way, so much more thrilling than those amber aurelac pieces you'd both made a muddy career of picking. A rarer and more precious thing, all the more because he did not seem to see that in himself. A man with starlight and shine, with wit and verbosity and an unending supply of humanity despite the things he'd seen.

You'd like to see him again, at least once more. The darkening sky and the blood on your suit makes you think that likelihood is minimal. He'd be better off not finding you, perhaps.

Your breath heaves once, twice, a small wheeze as you experiment with moving. A sharp pain interjects your attempt, causing you to gasp out and hold on to the wound on your side. Something in you may be broken.

This wasn't the way to go.

---

The first sign of you after what feels like trudging miles watching the damp forest ground, is the scrap of distinctive material from your suit. It's a concern but also a relief, to see something of you here where all else this place feels so suddenly completely uninhabited.

You must have made some kind of fight here, Ezra notes. There's footprints in the mud and a couple droplets of ruby red he can't acknowledge yet. 

Not yours, not yours.

Ezra knows both sides of this. He's been the one to take unsuspecting explorers and prospectors and drain them for everything they're worth. He's done this to others - left their partners and families to live in pain and regret and he's never thought a lot about who he might have maimed and murdered in the name of survival.

It makes him sick now. Sick at himself and at the world he's always known. You do not deserve this. Maybe they did not deserve what he did either. Maybe he is monstrous in even worse ways than he already knew. Maybe he shouldn't find you, so that he doesn't have to face the reality of what he is through what someone else may have done to you.

He walks silent as possible, careful slip of boots on the ground so as not to disturb anyone or thing that could be close. He makes his way through a thicket of shrubs and rounds a large tree.

And there he stops.. And holds in the breath he was about to let out.

There you are. Crumpled and shivering.

Alive.

Alive, alive, alive.

And yet...you could barely be, the way you were breathing. What was he seeing? What were you clutching at that made you groan and your eyes flutter in pain? He couldn't see it fully until stepping closer.

Broken. Damaged. Drained. Not the you he knew. Not the you he hoped to see. This you is some other.

Ezra murmurs your name. A part of him thinks that this is the time he runs. You won't make it and you shouldn't have to see him when your breath leaves you.

Part of him, a part of him that used to feel natural as the rain but now he hates. He thinks about going after those who did this to you but he cannot decide if that is to exact revenge or to take back to the stolen aurelac and leave for the pod.

"Ezra" you say, voice quieter than he has ever heard it, and the weak tone pulls him from his treacherous thoughts and back to reality. You are alive.

You are alive, and that means he must stay the person you see him as at least until you are no longer with him anymore.

"Ez..." you repeat again, and the pitiful sound springs him back in to action like a shot. The field kit in his pack isn't made for this kind of work, he quickly realises, but he can at least try to patch you up before things get worse for you out here.

"Kevva...you..." He's lost for words, for once in his life.

"Stay awake" is all he mutters as he crouches beside you and pulls out the liquid bandage and antiseptic shot.

"Easier said than done" you murmur back, opening eyes up to him.

Ezra sees it in your eyes. Stardust…your eyes were always like the sparkle of stardust and even dull like now it takes his breath away.

“I…I…” Ezra shakes his head. “If only I’d got here sooner. Should’ve never…”

You hiss as he presses the bandaging to your side, too dizzy from the feeling to tell if the bleeding has dissipated at all yet.

“Knew you’d come” You say in that soft, caring way you always have for him. For some reason he may never know now.

“I didn’t- “ Ezra chokes out. Didn’t know if I’d come. Thought about leaving you. The words ache heavy on his tongue, unable to utter them.

“You’re here” Is all you utter before laying your head back, that sickly swirl of dizziness getting worse suddenly.

He is here. You’re right. He’s here and in your light every instinct he’s ever had to preserve his own livelihood over anything else fades away just like always. A person who makes him a better man was never someone Ezra imagined knowing. A warm soul to help reignite his own that had gone cold long ago. It’s you. 

It’s you and him. 

It’s a string of fate that has tied you two together for longer than you’ve even known each other.

“Yes, stardust” Ezra finally mutters, and leans down to rest his forehead against yours. 

He’s got you. For as long as he can.

“I’m here”