#at least that's what I'm claiming. you can decide how true this is

[a-d-nox]

nox tests hypotheses: "saturn tells you what annoys you"

this is one of shawtyherbs hypotheses. this is how i feel this manifests for me in my chart and why i believe this hypothesis works. my saturn is located in my 3h, in taurus at 29°... let's take deep dive!

taurus saturn

a lack of discipline: i feel like i have a strong work ethic - i value hard work. i despised when i did group work in school and i was paired up with procrastinators or people who were unwilling to put in the necessary effort to achieve a good grade. it felt like every time i had my part done i would start getting anxious that the other person/people didn't. it felt like a manipulation - like we were playing chicken. if they didn't do it, would i do it for them? how long did they have to wait until i stepped in?

instability and unpredictability: sudden changes, chaotic environments, and erratic behavior can make me uncomfortable, anxious, and annoyed. i guess it's sort of like a trauma response from childhood except now i get irritable... everyone know my dislike for surprises.

wastefulness: i get easily irritated by wastefulness, whether it's wasting time, money, or resources. again maybe its from my childhood and having those experiences. but i am the type of person who arrives on time. if i buy something and don't like it i use it until it's gone, i eat it til its gone (even if its stale), or i use it til its paid itself off (if i buy a shirt and can't return it and it was $30, i am wearing it 30 times). it sounds strange - i know - but it is how i am...

superficiality: i really value authenticity. i feel like i am easily annoyed by superficial behavior, materialism without substance, and people who put on mask to fit in... like so what if you don't laugh at someone's shit joke, so what if i am happy with my hydroflask and want nothing to do with a stanley (it's all the same to me), and who cares if your true self is not everyone's favorite (you'll find your people a whole lot faster if you're your self).

resisting practicality: you know how much advice i have given throughout the years THAT WAS ASKED FOR and people did what they wanted anyway??? why even waste my time if you don't want outside perspective. or something its just kind advice to help with ease like hi you are using a stain on the deck, i recommend you wipe as you go so it dries quicker and you don't accidentally smear/smudge later. but nooooo.....

saturn at 29°

arrogance: you know it's okay to be wrong... it's not okay to pontificate about how you were right in some alternate scenario. just admit you were wrong in this situation and move on or better yet say nothing...

irresponsibility: when you say you are going to do something do it. if you are a leader then lead and know that you are responsible for anything you designate to someone you view as your subordinate (especially when you don't train them on what you want them to do for you). if you can't commit to having a task or being in charge than don't do it. someone is relying on you - it's 10 times worse when its yourself and you push goals to the side.

unfounded claims/criticisms: perhaps i am overly sensitive to criticism because i tend to take my work and my self a bit too seriously. but if you can't take yourself and what you do seriously, then who will? i take everything personally too. so when i get criticism and its said in a nasty way (at least how i interpret it) or there is a lack of explanation or no backing i will get annoyed. you bet my humor will be ill-tempered... you can't expect me to react well to a comment like "you're wrong". like wow okay so detailed, i'm glad you decided to write one word and a contraction to dismiss my 2k essay. like if you are going to criticize me or disprove me make it detailed and make it sound. and if i do something wrong its probably because no one told me how to do it in the first place (cough cough work) so don't snap at me, walk me through it.

lack of respect: now listen - i'm no angel, i was a teenager once - eyerolls and all. but now that i am a bit older (she said at 23) i am getting to the point where respect isn't freely given (unless its to build a good first impression) but instead its earned in a pre-existing relationship. i don't tolerate disrespect, no one is going to snap at me and tell me what to do. you do that and you will get the opposite reaction that you expect from me (speaking from real life situations). asserting dominance doesn't make you worthy of respect, it makes you a bully.

3h

superficial conversations: i said it why back when in one of my get to know me posts. i prefer deep, meaningful conversations and i find small talk / superficial chatter frustrating or pointless. like skip to the meat bruv - we don't have all this time for "hi how are you?" "good how are you?"

disorganization: a lack of structure, whether in communication, in a learning environments, or my daily routines, irritates me. i feel like it effects me most in the routine bit. weekends are my prime culprit because my schedule falls apart. during the week my meals and tasks are standardized, but on the weekend, i somehow manage to always get annoyed because i eat lunch late or what i had in my mind to do gets tossed aside...

gossip/rumors: i feel uncomfortable with gossip, i prefer facts and reliable knowledge. which i know facts seems shaky when i am posting the content i do... but generally facts over fiction in conversations. gossip and the like almost always gets me in trouble - i struggle with holding my tongue especially when i see someone regularly who has been gossiped about frequently. withholding information is a form of lying in my opinion - and lying makes me extremely uncomfortable.

impulsive decisions: i am trying to get better about this because i tend to carefully deliberate everything. but i don't like when others around me make impulsive decisions that effect me because it ruins the plan i already had in my mind. for example, last weekend i wanted to go to an all day fall festival with my mother (and yes i told her tuesday my plan) but last minute my mother's boyfriend-not-boyfriend said he needed her help with a project and it was going to be an all weekend thing. so friday night my plan went out the window. so quickly had to make a new plan consisting of paid readings, trader joe's, and shampooing my couch (fun stuff i know...).

a lack of respect for rules/boundaries: a disregard for social norms, etiquette, and established rules of communication annoys me so badly. like it is common courtesy (at least for how i was raised) to call or write in advance of stopping over at someone's house. my mother's boyfriend-not-boyfriend is the biggest perpetrator of this behavior. they aren't technically dating anymore so hello hi in my opinion he should be giving us a heads up if he will be stopping over. also switching gears when i say "no" or "i don't want to" i feel like a lot of people around me push me and test me to see if i will change my tune. i don't appreciate that in the slightest. i make clear boundaries in all the relationships i have (even here i have guidelines) - so yes, you bet i get frustrated when i vocalized or wrote my boundaries and yet they get ignored.

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[irritablepoe]

Only Poe and I would come up with the idea to write a book for our rivals to read and it turning out to be for nothing after all

[lodeddiperactivate]

Just broken up

A/N: This was originally a Barry fic but decided to change it to Rafe because I thought the personality fits him more! Enjoy xx

You walked down the dimly lit pavement as the cold crisp air greeted your already damp face. You have been crying because your boyfriend, Topper, broke up with you claiming that he is still in love with your bestfriend, Sarah. You only have yourself to blame. At the back of your mind, you always knew that there was more to them than just friends. You were on your way to Tannyhill to confront Sarah because honestly what else can you do? Topper refused to talk to you anymore and somehow convincing Sarah or talking to her at least, no matter how desperate you may seem, seem like the only way.

"Hey," Rafe opened the door, worry evident on his face as soon as he saw that you had been crying. He looked at you for a few seconds before speaking again.

"I'm going to kill Topper," he said as he rushed past you, anger boiling up the surface.

"Rafe, stop!" You croaked. Your voice hasn't gone back yet. "It's not his fault. Please."

"But-" Rafe calmed down before approaching you and leading you to the living room. You both sat on the sofa. Your white sundress has been covered in dirt and have been used to wipe your tears all day. You clasped your hands firmly together in front of you to prevent them from shaking. Rafe faced you, eyeing you carefully.

"Tell me why I shouldn't beat up Topper right now."

"Because it's not his fault!"

"Sounds to me like it is."

"He's still in love with Sarah," you whispered as if whispering it makes it less true. Rafe paused and took your hands.

"Then it's not your fault too," he said as if reading your mind. He fixes your hair and pushed it out of your face. You noticed his fingers lingering on your cheeks and the corners of your mouth. He seemed to have forgotten he was talking to you.

"Rafe?"

"Yeah?"

Your lips parted and you started breathing heavily. Compared to your current state, dirty and have been crying all day, you noticed how Rafe has always been neat and tidy, and he smells really good. You unconsciously leaned forward to rest your head on his chest. You two have always been friends and are comfortable with one another but this seems intimate. Then, all of a sudden, the exhaustion and emotions you've endured during the day came to you, and you started crying again.

"Hey hey," Rafe tried to calm you down, his hands on your shoulders.

"Look, fuck Topper, okay? You need someone who will take care of you," he paused. "I'll take care of you. Shit, I'll fuck up anyone who tries to you hurt you, got that?"

You were surprised by his determination and loyalty to protecting you, you couldn't help yourself what being through an emotional rollercoaster all day long that you leaned in for a kiss. He was surprised by this that he quickly moved back. A sharp pain shot through your chest.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I just thought..."

"No, no, hey I was just surprised, I didn't think you like me like that," Rafe said as he was quick to hold your face so that you are facing him. He searched your face for answers and permission to kiss you, to have you. Your eyes said it all.

He then crashed his lips unto yours without a second thought, the kiss was soft but forceful. Rafe moaned your name in between kisses and was quick to lift you up so you're straddling him.

"What if someone sees us?"

"Let them!" He growled as he lifted your dress and pulled aside your panties, rubbing your already wet clit. "I want you, I've always wanted you."

"Why didn't you say anything?" You asked, your hand on his jaw, your finger tracing his lips, your eyes on his.

"Would you have left Topper for me?" Rafe asked softly as if he's afraid of knowing the answer.

"Yes, I would have." And with that, Rafe's newfound confidence in having you took over. He quickly unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants. You can feel him beneath you, teasing you with his tip at the entrance. He slowly entered you and you moaned his name while burying your face in the nape of his neck.

"Shhh it's okay baby, I'll show you what you've been missing," Rafe said as he allowed himself to ease into you inch by inch until he's completely inside you. He allowed you to adjust to his size. He was definitely bigger, you blinked the tears away as you adjusted, feeling him fully.

"Listen to me," he said as he started to move his hips as you grinded on top of him lost in your own lust. You arched your back as you positioned yourself in a way that Rafe hits all of the good spots.

"I-" he lifted his hips and thrusted into you sharply.

"don't ever-" he thrusted once more.

"want"- he thrusted once more. You feel yourself about to cum.

"to see-" he thrusted again as he felt you clamped on his dick. He knows you're close.

"you cry-" he thrusted again. His hands on your hips, keeping you firmly in place as he fucks you senseless. You couldn't move so you placed your hands on his chest for support.

"ever-" his thumb circled your clit as you arched your back even further in pleasure. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"again!" he said with one final thrust, you cummed all over him which is then followed by him blowing his load all over your insides. You collapsed on top of him, panting, catching your breath.

"Unless," Rafe continued as he wrapped his arms around you, cuddling you after coming down from your high.

"Unless it'a from me fucking you senseless." Rafe said as he pulled a blanket over the two of you. You smiled, exhausted, satisfied, as you drifted off to sleep in his arms.

OBX masterlist

[solar-wing]

⚣ It's Not A Competition 🥇

⚣👊🏻 A/N → SURPRISE! double post today! I've been wanting to do a Clark Kent post forever but never had any good ideas. Then, this popped into my mind. Also, I'm really trying to clear out my drafts and any old requests. WARNINGS: Canon-Typical Violence | Jealousy | Established Relationship

⚣👊🏻 Summary → Dark Knight this and Dark Knight that. What about Superman?! He's also a great hero! Better than Batman, at least. The guy doesn't even have powers. But that's what makes him more interesting and cool, according to Y/N. And frankly, Clark has had quite enough and intends to show him why Superman is way better than Batman.

⚣👊🏻 Words → 4.7K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 👊🏻

Clark just didn’t get it.

Why was it that Y/N was so obsessed with Batman and not Superman? All the young reporter ever talked about was the Dark Knight and how he was so cool and mysterious. Going on and on about his awesome gadgets and the fact that he had no powers, which made him so interesting.

Clark very much would beg to differ.

“You know, Superman can shoot lasers out of his eyes, and I heard he can move faster than the speed of sound,” Clark pointed out while walking with Y/N down the sidewalk. They decided to go out for lunch and since the Daily Planet was so close to one of Y/N's favorite restaurants downtown, he figured, why not just walk together?

“Clark, not this again,” Y/N chuckled while sipping his drink.

“I’m sorry, you just always talk about how great Batman is, and I’m not saying he’s bad, but I don’t get how he’s better than Superman?”

“You know, you’re starting to sound like Lois with all your Superman praise and comparison.”

“Well, she’s not wrong. I mean, come on. What can Batman do that Superman can’t?” Clark asked, looking down at his boyfriend while waiting for an answer.

“Batman’s quicker on his feet. He thinks of solutions faster and more creatively than what I’ve seen from Superman. Plus, he’s resourceful. The guy’s got a freaking jet. The only people I could think of that own jets and planes and all the crazy gadgets he has would probably be Lex Luthor or Bruce Wayne.”

Clark tried not to react to the irony of that statement, rather focusing on how he could combat that logic even though it was true. He had to admit that his comrade, whether in the field or in practice, was very good at analyzing a situation and using whatever he had around him to his advantage.

Still, it didn’t mean he was better than him.

“Well, Superman can also fly, and as many have witnessed, is crazy strong.”

“Yes, he is. But if Batman can afford a jet, I’m pretty sure he can afford a jetpack, too. Plus, we all know how strong Superman is, some more than others. Their insurance claims can definitely speak to how strong he is.”

That last line Y/N said was more so to himself than as a statement to Clark. However, it didn’t take away the slight sting from his words, considering how true they were.

“So you’re saying Superman is reckless and bad at his job or something?” Clark accused.

“What? No, I’m not saying that at all. Why are you getting so defensive about this? You’re acting as if you know the guy. Wait, do you know him?” Y/N asked, now looking up at his giant of a boyfriend.

Sometimes, he wondered what kind of genes ran in Clark’s family. It was a bit of a puzzle to Y/N why the six-foot-something man was in journalism rather than something that seemed more his speed, like fitness or athletics.

“No, of course not. I just don’t think it’s fair or even logical to compare Superman to someone like Batman, considering what each of them has respectfully achieved, not to mention the state of their cities and everything. I mean, have you ever been to Gotham before?” Clark asked, doing his best to not draw any more curiosity or suspicion out of the younger male.

Not that he was doing a good job of that in the first place.

Clark just wished he could’ve shown Y/N why Superman was better than Batman. They’d only been dating for a few months so it wasn’t reasonable or even smart for the Kryptonian to consider revealing his identity to him, no matter how much he wanted to.

“Clark, it’s not a competition. You know that, right?” Y/N said, placing his hand on Clark’s arm.

They paused in their steps, Clark looking down at the gentle hand lying across his forearm before looking up into the eyes that always put him under a spell. He smiled to himself, thinking of the fact that even if Y/N favored Batman over Superman, Clark was still the real winner, because he had him.

He took his hand in his own, doing his best to contain his excitement pulse at the feeling of his larger hand surrounding the smaller one in his grip. Y/N was still a male, so his hand wasn’t dainty or small by any means, but compared to Clark’s, it might as well have been.

“Yeah, I know. Sorry, I got a little bit crazy.” Clark apologized with a small kiss on the shorter man’s hand causing a slight blush to appear on the smaller male’s cheeks.

“It’s ok. Besides, I like a little bit of crazy. Keeps things interesting.” Y/N said before continuing their walk towards Clark’s place of work.

‘You have no idea,’ Clark thought to himself as he followed behind, letting himself be tugged along.

They returned to the Daily Planet to find everywhere in a buzz, chattering excitedly with each other as various individuals were either running to the bathroom with pouches of makeup and skincare and others at their desks touching up their hair and clothes.

“What’s going on?” Clark asked aloud as he strode into the office while still holding Y/N’s hand.

“Was it like this when we left?” His boyfriend asked, chuckling at the comical movements and gestures of the rushing to get re-ready for whatever was happening.

“No, it was actually the opposite,” The reporter stated before eventually spotting Lois at her desk, who was also touching up her makeup and hair. He made his way over to the desk area, narrowly avoiding multiple people rushing while pulling Y/N closer to him to keep him from getting bumped into.

“Lois, what’s going on?”

“Oh, hey, Smallville. Hello, Y/N. Didn’t you both get the emergency email Perry sent to everyone earlier?” She said in her usual fast-paced, business tone while curling her eyelashes.

“No, We were at lunch. What was the email about?”

“Oh, Clark. Must I always have to save your butt?” Lois said before handing her phone over to the man, Y/N chuckling behind him at the comment.

Clark threw him a look while Y/N did his best to keep a neutral face before reading over the email.

“Bruce Wayne is coming to the Daily Planet?”

Y/N's eyes went comically large at the mention, immediately jumping to read the email for himself, “No way!”

Lois smirked to herself before grabbing her phone back from the man, while Clark just stared at his boyfriend in jealous shock from his excited outburst. “Yep. Wayne Enterprises has announced its support of various major liberal movements and is donating large proceeds to different organizations calling for massive change in the nation. And with this being an election year, many political figures and business entities are feeling a little uneasy at this sudden new support from the tech giant. And yours truly, landed the exclusive interview with him to get all the nitty and gritty details .”

Y/N’s eyes were almost bugging out of his head, before he ran to the bathroom himself, snatching his hand from Clark’s who looked desperately after him.

“Dammit, Bruce.” The reporter growled under his breath.

“You say something?” Lois asked while powdering her nose.

“No,” Clark responded gruffly, an irritated glint in his eye before walking to his own desk.

After everyone has ridiculously made themselves extra presentable, including Y/N much to Clark’s annoyance, the pair stand outside the room with a few others, watching through the glass pane walls as the interview is broadcast live to the entire nation. Lois asked Mr. Wayne various questions, ranging from his real intentions behind his charitable donations to whether he was looking to begin any political endeavors and win the favor of the public.

Bruce answers every question with confidence and suaveness, leaving no room for questions about his actions, and denies any political motivations. Y/N watched impressed from the other end while Clark just looked around with a grim and irritated look, his arms crossed as he listened to the interview and watched his boyfriend fanboy over his secret comrade.

“Well, you certainly seem like the charming and noble benefactor, Mr. Wayne. I can see why you're known as ‘Gotham’s Favorite Son.’ I have to ask though, even if you truly have no political ambitions, aren’t you worried that these donations and announcements along with the unwavering stance you’ve taken on these political topics will inevitably place a target on you?” Lois asked, notepad and pen sitting with poise and precision, ready to take down every little thing the billionaire said.

“Wow, I can see why she’s so respected. She’s nailing this interview.” Y/N commented.

Clark nodded to that. Even if he wasn’t feeling the most agreeable at the moment, he’d always give hats off to Lois’ skills. The woman was a powerhouse when it came to this stuff.

“Well, first off, thank you for your earlier comment. I don’t think of myself as anyone’s favorite, but even I can’t control what the public says or does,” Bruce responded with his ever-so-billion-dollar smile, earning a laugh from Lois and probably every other American tuning into this broadcast, including Y/N.

Clark, however, wasn’t impressed. He’d heard funnier.

“But, to answer your question,” Bruce continued, “...any move in the business or even the political world I imagine can be considered a risky one. I’m not going to pretend that my decisions have made some very happy, and others very unhappy. That’s life. You can’t please everyone. But, to sit and accept things as the way they are for fear of retaliation or backlash is misery in itself. I believe anyone who doesn’t speak up for what they truly believe or want for fear of ‘rocking the boat’ is just content with living in their own misery. And, let me be clear before I’m canceled—I know the meaning behind that now thanks to my kids, particularly my two youngest sons—I’m not saying someone who’s genuinely content and happy with where they are is included in this. I’m specifically talking to those who want change, and want to create a better world, but are waiting for others to do it for them.”

Despite its clichéness, many in the hall gave a small clap to the CEO’s words, Y/N looking thoroughly impressed himself.

“Wow, he really is an inspiring man,” Y/N commented.

“He’s alright,” Clark said in response.

Y/N gave the taller man a suspicious side look, “Alright, what’s going on with you? You’ve been standing there pouting

since this interview started. What, do you not like Bruce Wayne or something?"

Clark sighed before looking down at his boyfriend. It was true, he wasn't really liking the guy at the moment. But, it was just because he was so jealous. He didn’t like how Y/N was looking at him, or how he was talking about him.

It wasn't fair.

The reporter wanted Y/N to be looking at him and only him like that, and he wanted his attention and affection, and he wanted him to only talk about him like that. It was petty, and it was selfish, but Clark didn’t care.

He just wanted Y/N to only admire Clark Kent. not Bruce Wayne.

Only Superman, not Batman.

Despite Y/N's earlier words about it not being a competition, Clark knew the truth. It was a competition, one he was not planning on losing.

"No, I don't not like him. I'm just not that impressed, is all. He's not a superhero." Clark said.

"Neither is Lex Luthor. But, that doesn't stop the public from making him the villain in his story. I'm sure there's a lot more to Bruce Wayne than the media is letting on."

"Oh, trust me. There's more to him than what meets the eye," Clark mumbled to himself as the interview was getting ready to wrap up.

"Well, on behalf of the Daily Planet, I'd like to thank you for joining us today. Your words are certainly ones that will not go unheard by many. I look forward to—"

Before Lois could finish speaking, the lights in the building suddenly went out, leaving the office pitch black. A few people in the hall gasp, Y/N instinctively grabbing Clark's arm, who in turn places his hand over the smaller man's own.

"What's going on?" Someone asks.

"I don't know. It's almost like a blackout, but it can't be because we have backup generators. They should've turned it on by now." Another responded.

"Clark, what's going on?" Y/N asked toward his boyfriend, who was holding the smaller male closer to him out of instinct.

"I'm not exactly sure..."

Just as he said that, the lights came back on, and everyone was looking around confused as to what the source of the blackout was.

"Oh my god!" One of the people in the hall screamed suddenly as everyone turned back towards the interview room. Inside the room, some members of the crew suddenly had masks with insignias covering their faces on them. One of them was behind Lois holding a dagger to her neck while another stood to the side, pointing a gun directly at Bruce's head.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt, Ms. Lane," The individual in the middle of the room said, "But, this interview isn't over just yet."

"Who the hell are you people?!" Lois asked, fear and anger in her eyes as the blade was held to her neck.

"Wouldn't you like to know? As for Mr. Wayne, we're going to have a little chat. I suggest you and your friends don't follow or intervene. Otherwise, this broadcast won't be the only thing getting cut" The masked individual threatened, nodding to Lois.

"Don't you dare touch her," Bruce warned, his expression serious, as he got ready to stand.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Mr. Wayne. We wouldn't want anything bad to happen, now would we? Especially with all of America watching right now."

Bruce sat back down, knowing that his opponent was right. He couldn't let them hurt Lois, and he certainly couldn't risk any lives in this room.

"Don't worry, Mr. Wayne. We'll make this quick," The leader said as one of the other masked goons went to lock the door that led inside the interview room.

"Clark, we have to do something," Y/N said, his heart racing a mile a minute.

"I know. Stay here. I'll be back." Clark said before running off, leaving the smaller male alone.

"What? Clark, wait! Where are you going?" Y/N called after him, but the taller man didn't hear him, already too far away.

'What the hell is he doing?' Y/N thought to himself before turning his attention back towards the situation in front of him.

As Clark rounded the corner and made his way down the hallway, he made sure no one was watching him before he ran as fast as he could into the supply closet. Once inside, he quickly changed into his suit before taking off through the backdoor.

"So, how does it feel knowing that you're on the side of the wrong? How does it feel knowing that no matter what you do, you'll never be able to fix the mess you made? All the lives lost because of you," The masked man asked Bruce, who was sitting calmly in his chair, his eyes not showing an ounce of fear.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't. None of you wealthy elites do. You don't know the pain and suffering your companies and your products cause to others. You don't know the misery you cause. Well, allow us to show you." The man said before signaling his partners.

One of them immediately moved and grabbed a hold of the camera, pointing it directly at the masked man in the center.

"Hello, Metropolis. And hello, America. If you're watching this, that means you're just as much a part of this as we are. if you've been sitting here listening to the lies and promises of a better world by this man and his kind, you are as much a part of his schemes as he is. It is because of people like him that we have the world we live in. It's because of people like him that so many of us suffer. It's because of people like him that the world will only continue to rot and decay until there is nothing left but a pile of ashes. But, we will not be the ones who burn. We will not be the ones who lose. We will not be the ones who suffer, not anymore. Today, we fight back. Today, we will show the world that we will not be silenced, we will not be oppressed. We will not allow the likes of him and his kind to continue to control us anymore with false promises of a better tomorrow while lining their own pockets. Today, we say enough is enough. Today, we rise. Today, we will take back what is rightfully ours. Today, we take back our freedom and our lives from the rich and corrupt." The man spoke, his words filled with conviction and determination, but also hatred and poison as he stared deep into the camera.

"And if any of you try to stop us, then you will be considered just as guilty as the rest of them. We will not be silenced. We will not be ignored. And if you think that the likes of Batman and Superman will save you, I wouldn't be too sure of that..."

As soon as the leader was done with his speech, the sound of the glass shattering was heard as Superman broke through the windows, flying into the room before stopping directly in front of the man holding the camera.

"But, I am..." The Man of Steel said, shooting a laser beam at the dagger being held by the goon threatening Lois. He immediately dropped the blade as it became too hot, giving the Daily Planet reporter the opportunity she needed to escape his hold.

"Bastards," She cursed, turning around and delivering a kick to the masked man's groin.

He groaned out in pain, falling to the floor before Lois punched him in the face, knocking him out.

Superman turned his attention back toward the masked man standing in the center, "I believe it's time for you to take a hike."

"Not yet. We still have unfinished business," The man said before signaling his other henchman. The man immediately aimed his gun at the Kryptonian, firing shot after shot into him.

Superman stood his ground as the bullets hit him, before eventually, the gun ran out.

"You're right. This is definitely the end," Superman said as he flew toward the man, knocking him out before he could reload his gun.

As Superman finished off the last of the henchmen, the leader turned back towards the camera, "Sorry, Superman. But, the damage has already been done. I hope you enjoyed this little taste of what's to come."

Before the Kryptonian could stop him, the man took out a smoke bomb, throwing it onto the ground and covering the room in a cloud of smoke.

"Crap," Superman cursed, unable to see as the man escaped.

As the smoke began to clear, Bruce took out his phone, "Alfred, I need you to track this signal."

"Understood, sir. I've also informed the police and they're on their way," Alfred responded.

"Good," Bruce said before turning back towards the room.

The actual camera crew was not out in the hall, hugging their co-workers who were all relieved at their safety. The broadcast was cut from the air, but there was no doubt every TV station from here to San Francisco was talking about it. Y/N was standing nearby, his eyes filled with awe and admiration as he stared up at Superman.

There was something oddly familiar about him.

...

Nah.

"That was incredible, Mr. Wayne," Lois said.

"I could say the same thing about you. I'm glad you're ok."

Lois smiled at him, "You were worried about me?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?" Bruce asked, a small smile forming on his lips.

Lois blushed slightly before turning back to look at Superman, who was now standing right in front of the two.

"Thank you for the save, Superman," Lois said, extending her hand out to the Kryptonian.

"My pleasure," Superman said, shaking the woman's hand before his attention was drawn toward Bruce who just gave him an appreciative nod. Though the look in his eyes signaled they would definitely be communicating about things later.

As Bruce and Lois moved towards the hallway, Lois spotted Y/N who was standing close to the door peeking inside.

"Oh Y/N, there you are! Thank goodness, you're alright." Lois said, walking over to him and hugging him.

"Yeah, I'm ok. Are you?" He asked, looking up at the woman.

"I'm fine. I'm tougher than I look."

"That's good to hear. And, it's good to see you’re okay as well Mr. Wayne. That was scary." Y/N said, turning his attention to the billionaire.

"Yes, I'm glad I'm alright, too," Bruce said, his attention on Y/N.

"Oh, Bruce Wayne, this is Y/N L/N. He's one of our upcoming new reporters along with Clark Kent, who you've met before." Lois said, introducing the two.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne," Y/N said, extending his hand out.

Bruce took it, giving the younger man a firm handshake, "The pleasure is all mine."

As the two looked at each other, Clark was standing nearby, his gaze focused on the two, his fists clenched.

'I swear to Rao...' He thought to himself, jealousy coursing through his body as he watched the two interact.

"So, Mr. Wayne, what do you think that was all about?" Y/N asked.

Bruce turned to look at the woman, an amused eyebrow raised, "He must be getting trained by you," He said, sparking a laugh from Lois and another eye roll from the Kryptonian before flying off, "And please, call me Bruce. Mr. Wayne makes me feel old."

"Bruce, then. What do you think that was all about?" Y/N asked again.

"Well, I can't be certain, but based on their words and their actions, I'd say they were a group of anarchists."

"Anarchists?"

"Yes. They're not an uncommon group. Many people are growing tired of the way things are in this country. With the state of the economy and the government, it's only a matter of time before things begin to boil over."

"So, you think this is going to happen more often?"

"I'm not sure. But, I have a feeling we haven't seen the last of them."

Y/N nodded his thoughts on the events that had transpired earlier.

"Y/N!" Clark called, interrupting the conversation.

"Clark, there you are! You had me worried sick," The smaller male said while hugging his boyfriend, missing the sharp look the taller man was throwing at the billionaire.

"I just went to alert the building security and the police. Seems everything turned alright though since Superman showed up," Clark said, wrapping an arm around the younger man's waist while still giving a side eye to Bruce who was watching with amusement.

"Yes, thank goodness he did. I'm sure we all owe him a huge thanks for his services."

"Yes, indeed we do. But, unfortunately, I must be going now. It was a pleasure meeting you, Y/N." Bruce said, extending his hand once more to the younger man, who took it, shaking it gently.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, too."

Bruce smiled at him before turning back to Lois, "And it was a pleasure seeing you again, Lois."

"Likewise, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce smirked, "I do believe we're a bit past the formalities now, Lois. Please, call me Bruce."

"Of course. Bruce." The woman replied, her tone flirty and her expression coy.

Y/N noticed this and turned to look at Clark, whose expression was blank as he looked on.

"Will do, Lois. I look forward to our next meeting," Bruce said before stopping in front of Clark.

"Good seeing you as well Clark, as short-lived as it was," Bruce said, extending his hand out for a handshake.

Clark reluctantly took it, the handshake lasting longer than was necessary.

"Likewise," Clark replied.

Bruce nodded, his eyes giving the reporter a knowing look before he was escorted out by security.

Once the billionaire was out of sight, Clark and Y/N decided to leave as well, making their way towards the elevator.

"Well, that was a crazy day," Y/N said.

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"Do you think Bruce Wayne knows Batman?"

Clark stopped mid-step, a shocked expression on his face as he looked down at his boyfriend.

"Are you serious right now? You can't be serious?" The taller man said with an indignant expression.

"What?"

"You're still thinking of Batman after Superman just came and saved everyone?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, he's a hero too. They both are. Besides, Superman is always getting most of the credit, don't you think? It would make sense if they were working together. You know, the world's greatest detective and the world's greatest hero, solving crime and catching the bad guys. Wouldn't that be so cool?" Y/N asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement at the thought.

"No, not really. I don't see why that would be a good idea," Clark said, rolling his eyes.

Y/N sighed, "Clark, remember what we talked about earlier about it not being a competition?"

Clark looked down at the smaller man, his eyes filled with frustration, "Yeah, but it doesn't mean you have to obsess over Batman. Superman is just as obsessed-worthy!"

"Clark, seriously, what is up with you? It's not like I want to marry him or something."

"You're acting like you want to," Clark mumbled under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Look, Clark. I'm not going to say I'm not a fan of Batman. I mean, I think he's cool. But, that doesn't mean that I'm not a fan of Superman either. I'm a fan of both of them. I think they're both great heroes, and I think they both do good work."

"But, you don't think that Batman is cooler, or that he's better than Superman?" Clark asked, his expression pleading.

"I mean, I guess. But, why does that matter? Why are you so hung up about this?"

"Because, I—" Clark started before stopping, knowing he was about to give away his identity.

"You what?"

"I just want you to think of me, is all," Clark said, looking down at the ground, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Y/N's heart softened at the confession, the older man looking like a little kid who just got his favorite toy taken away. He stepped forward, cupping the taller man's face in his hands, causing him to look up.

"Clark, I do think about you. I think about you all the time and I love how protective you are of me. Whether I like Batman or Superman more isn't going to change that" Y/N said, trying his best to ease his boyfriend's fears.

"Promise?" Clark asked.

Y/N chuckled, "I promise."

"Good," Clark smiled while leaning down to place a kiss against his boyfriend's lips, "You should still like Superman more."

Y/N rolled his eyes, "Sure thing, Clark. I'll work on that."

"Thank you."

"Whatever. Now come on, we now have a celebratory date to go on." Y/N said as he grabbed Clark's hand.

"What are we celebrating?" Clark asked with a laugh as he was pulled towards the elevator.

It was always adorable watching the smaller male pull Clark around like it was nothing.

"Surviving our first criminal encounter together," Y/N said while hitting the first-floor button.

"First?"

"Honey, we live in a city with sky-high insurance because a superhero lives here. You really think this will be the last?"

He definitely doesn't.

☀️ | Clark Kent/Superman | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[birdfem]

All the discourse makes me lose hope because there's so much of a focus on deciding who is and isn't a "real" radfem. What is and isn't a true radical action. Who's "valid" and who isn't. There are so many demeaning and degrading sentiments going around, and they shouldn't be.

I don't believe in the idea of "do what you want forever" as actions have repercussions, but I think the way some women on radblr are going about OSA relationships is so vile. The constant degrading terms (e.g. "dick-worshipping" and using terms like wh-re, sl-t, etc.) as well as insisting that anyone opposing them is lesbophobic… I'm just over it. There are conspiracy theories spawning over folks like @/radicalstoner being @/macroclit, polls about if its demeaning to use "Jakey" or "Nigel" (and women being shocked when some find it demeaning), and so on. It's meaningless and shows how little a lot of women care for other women when we're supposed to be the ones that do. Like seriously, what does any of this do aside from further dividing our (already small) community?

The point of feminism as a whole, at least in my opinion, should be to support women. In any branch of feminism you consider yourself to be part of, you should put women first. You cannot be any kind of feminist if you don't do at least that. Now, this doesn't mean you have to agree or see their choices as good. This doesn't mean you cannot critique decisions and point out the misogyny and/or harm within them. This doesn't mean that all choices a woman makes are good because it's a woman doing them.

But you should be there to support her when she needs it most.

If a woman enters a relationship with a guy, don't rescind your support. Instead, find ways to further help her. What if the guy does turn out to be abusive? Instead of going "I told you so, this is why you shouldn't date men", be a support system for her. Provide some way to escape and to protect her. What if she needs an abortion? Instead of going "that's what you get for being a dick-worshipper", help her in gaining what she needs to have a safe one. What if she's a single mother who has no other support system? Be that support system for her, find ways to help make her life easier.

So many 'radfems' on here will fight tooth and nail to prove that dating men is the least radical action you can take. And yeah, dating men isn't radical in the slightest. As far as I can tell, no one has been claiming it is. I agree that being celibate is a radical action. If you're a separatist, then more power to you.

But just because a woman isn't radical in every single aspect of her life doesn't mean she should be shunned and not have your support. It doesn't matter if she's a radfem or not in your definition of the ideology.

What should matter is if YOU, the supposed radfem, would help her in her time of need.

[cl0ckworkqueerness]

in the wake of the reveal of the "pills that make you green" comic's creator revealing her true colours (something I've been aware of for a while but haven't had much specifically to speak about until now), i think it's important to take a step back and look at some of her claims about transandrophobia, as well as many anti-transandrophobia (or transandrophobic) talking points, and analyze them critically without, in any way, demeaning transmisogyny as a concept. let's start with some of the things i've seen on her blog and go from there

first of all, there's a lot of talk about how activists who are vocal about transandrophobia are "derailing" conversations about transmisogyny. while i'm certain there are some legitimate examples, many of the examples i have seen that i presume she is referring to are speaking about her comics that specifically strawman the stick figure who is an allegory of a trans man or transmasculine individual.

in these comics, this stick figure is often unjustly cruel and even oppressive of the lime stick figure, an allegory for trans women or transfeminine individuals, while simultaneously whining about how they also experience oppression and should be focused on instead. this frames trans men and transmasculine individuals as loud, taking up space, oppressing transfeminine people (who are More Oppressed), and simply cannot understand that they do not face as terrible of treatment as the other.

the problem that most people, myself included, take with this is that the author seems to be living in an alternate world where trans men, somehow, are a legitimate, strong, oppressive force over trans women, and want to take up all the space in the trans community's discussion to ourselves. there are definitely people who abuse the term transandrophobia to say transmisogynistic things, without a doubt, but in my experience most of us simply want to say that we, too, experience terrible types of oppression as a result of intersectionality that a trans woman, transfeminine, or trans person who's perceived as either of those things may not experience. transandrophobia is not meant to overtake transmisogyny, it is meant to stand beside transmisogyny and further prove that different trans people can experience different types of oppression, and thus should unite against both.

another thing i've seen on the comic author's account is how the idea of androphobia is anti-feminist and comes from MRAs or something, which... uh, again, i don't know what planet you're living on, but here on earth, there are men who are discriminated against and even treated with violence because of their ties to masculinity, femininity, both, or neither. and again, it is not our problem if MRAs decide to appropriate actual, useful terms in order to spread misogyny. we should not have to keep changing our language every time a bad person uses it. if we did, we would have no language, and thus once again be silenced.

since i don't have the time or the spoons to go through everything she's ever said or reblogged on her account, i'll just go over one more thing. no, the discussion and desired visibility of transandrophobia is not some kind of psyop or massive conspiracy to kill the idea of transmisogyny. if we didn't believe in transmisogyny, we'd have no reason to believe in transandrophobia either, after all. for me, at least, talking about transandrophobia is equally as important because trans men, like myself, have been forced into silence for so long and erased from most of history. trans men weren't even well documented until much, much later in history.

additionally, i doubt this needs to be said, but if any of you are actually intentionally ignoring transmisogyny in your discussion of intersectionality, you have no place in this discussion

and finally, to the author of these comics, i doubt you're reading this, but if you are, please reconsider your hostility. framing the discussion around transandrophobia in the way you are is not only equating trans people who face detrimental oppression to the people who are trying to oppress us and force us into silence, but you too are actively advocating for the silencing and erasure of, and subsequently the lack of resources for, trans men, transmasculine individuals, trans people who are perceived as either of these things, or anyone who primarily faces transandrophobia. i don't blame you for being defensive, and i will absolutely take your side should anyone be transmisogynistic towards you or anyone else, but you don't have to drag trans men who just want to talk about our shared experiences through the mud in order to support your point of transmisogyny's danger, especially within the trans community. if you want to have a genuine, mature discussion about transandrophobia and its dangers, and transmisogyny within the trans community, i'm sure someone would be happy to discuss that with you. but with the way you're treating and talking about trans men, it is unlikely that you will take anyone up on that offer

idk man. i feel like it's important to talk about transmisogyny and transandrophobia at the same time, as well as all other forms of intersectionality. we should be turning transphobes into couches instead of whatever the hell this is

[fun-k-board]

Hey, could I request Bi Han/Sub Zero romantic headcannons with a male reader who is his right hand man and childhood friend?

Bi-Han / Sub-Zero with a boyfriend who's his childhood friend

Note(s) : I'm gonna be honest, I don't really like him, but I want to try and be a better writer by writing about characters I don't like. Please, give me critiques on how I wrote him!

First of all, he was incredibly moody as a child already, not exactly of his own volition having a dad like his would ruin any kid, so if you can't handle people who are mean on purpose? You'd have a REALLY hard time getting along with him.

Bi-Han was always brooding, in the corner with a frown, he eats with a frown, sleeps frowning, talks to his brother's frowning, the only time he's ever smiling is either in private or when it's just him and Kuai Liang, but it doesn't happen that often any more after his dad died.

To befriend him, you'd either need to be a part of the Lin Kuei, either born into the clan, maybe the son of one of the lower Lin Kuei members, or found and taken in by the clan, or somehow be involved with one of the Lin Kuei's missions.

It's a long and slow process, but even just talking to him once a day will eventually gain a semblance of trust, it'll be hard to show it, and he mostly does by standing next to you and sometimes agreeing with you, but these things will take time.

By your teenage years, you two began training together, maybe he tends to be a little rougher than other Lin Kuei, and maybe he's broken your nose once, twice, possibly even thrice before, but he did apologise, eventually.

He would confide in you about troubles with his brothers, well, he insists that Smoke isn't a brother and more like a stray even though that's just not true, but Bi-Han would be awkward and reserved about talking with you.

He feels that this isn't your business, and not only that, he feels like you just... Wouldn't get it? While he understands you may have issues of your own, his situation is rather unique.

His troubles mainly consist of Kuai Liang and Tomas upholding tradition, Bi-Han believes that his brothers view tradition higher than him, and even though he's grandmaster, that they don't take his opinions into account.

Of course, this is ludicrous, his brothers follow his every word and typically offer little resistance, though, if you try to tell him that he will just storm off and claim he was right all along and that you don't understand. He'll eventually come to his senses and realise what you said was true, but, won't apologise.

If you agree with him, or at least say you do, he'll murmur a gruff complaint about his brother's and then you'll sit in silence for a while.

By the time MK1 rolls around, he's fairly jaded, he doesn't like talking to his own brothers, he dislikes them a fair amount actually, but he still loves them, or, at least he holds love in his heart for Kuai, he still hates Smoke.

Bi-Han doesn't know exactly what he feels for you, he knows it's not friendship, but at the same time, he's never really had friends before, so, he can't be sure. All he understands is that he values you, and more importantly, your opinion, if you disagree with him it may hurt his pride, but please, stay firm, he comes around eventually, only with you.

He wants to wait for something, that maybe proves you may love him, because when that rolls around, he can fully decide whether to act on his emotions or not.

You most likely accompany the trio to stop Shang Tsung, and you'll most likely be there when Bi-Han betrays the Lin Kuei. Obviously, you choose to stay with him, and, it breaks Smoke and Scorpions heart, they may not have known you too well, but, they knew you were one of the only things that would stop him from going down that path.

In a way, you both failed them that day.

Now, after proving your loyalty to him, you're basically his right hand man and oversee a lot of the clan, you train young and old recruits, you maintain a harsh schedule everybody is expected to follow, you help Bi-Han with whatever he needs, and sometimes need to force him to take a day off.

By the way, he won't let you say his actual name, you always have to either call him Sub-Zero or Grandmaster, depending on if you're on a mission or not, his name is personal to him, a core part of his identity, and, until you're closer, he feels awkward letting you call him Bi-Han.

During this, he becomes even more angry, even more distant, even with you, and it may take pushing, reminding him of your childhood spent together, for him to crack.

He won't come crying into your arms, he doesn't beg for forgiveness or want any, he just sits there, and begins to rant. He rants about how he feels like, if he was a better grandmaster, his brothers would have joined him, if he was a better grandmaster, maybe he wouldn't have joined Shang Tsung, and wouldn't have been tempted by his lies.

You hold a hand to his shoulder, and you confess, you tell him what you think about him, how you feel about his temptation into evil by Shang Tsung, and even though he doesn't want forgiveness, you give it.

And, with permission, you hold his hand. It's a small step, but, it's the most contact you two will have together for a long time.

Now, he gives you small smiles in private, nothing wide, but something so tiny it's hard to differentiate from not having an expression at all, he gives you some time off, more than he gives himself, anyway, and more importantly? He feels himself relaxed around you.

Telling a joke that would once make him scoff and walk away now makes him let out a gruff and amused noise, it's a mix between a laugh and breath of air, and he only does it for you.

Dinners with him are less awkward, when before you would sit in silence, hesitantly taking bites from food. You two now chat quietly about your day, each recruit, and sometimes about each other. You can actually enjoy the food and his presence.

He lets you call him Bi-Han now, not in public, but, when you two are alone, in a hallway, in your rooms, having dinner or breakfast privately, whichever situation calls for you two to be alone, he lets you call him by his name, and, it makes him feel vulnerable. It makes him feel loved.

He's always held your opinion in high regard, but now, it's honestly the only one that matters besides his own, and he does, silently, hope you aren't so tempted by power like he is.

Bi-Han may take longer to kiss or cuddle you than what most would consider normal, he loves you, he knows he does now, but, he's nervous, no, he's afraid. He knows he's a rough man, and he knows how uncaring and even violent he is and can come across as, so, naturally, he tries to avoid the subject. He doesn't want to do anything without your consent, but he's also far too afraid to ask.

It will take you to ask him, you'll need to make the first move, and when you do ask him for that first kiss, he gives you that small, hardly noticeable smile, and you both lean in, closing your eyes...

It's awkward. Maybe you know how to kiss, maybe you don't, but Bi-Han definitely doesn't, and, it shows. He feels slightly embarrassed at how lost he is, but, you two can learn together, and even just telling him, hey, maybe it wasn't the best, but, we can learn together, lifts his spirits an unnatural degree.

For the next week, the schedules become less strict for most Lin Kuei members, and any mess ups are met with less harsh, but still kind of harsh, punishments.

Kissing is basically ingrained into your schedule now, once in the morning on the cheek before breakfast, maybe once at lunch if it's a tough day, and always a peck on the lips at night before bed.

It takes less time to cuddle if you've already kissed before, sure, it still takes a bit long, but, so do most things with this man. Maybe it starts with holding his hand, or, sitting on his bed and talking about things, training gets hard sometimes, so perhaps you're just a bit tired.

You look up at him and quietly ask if you can just lay down for a while, or, maybe you just lay down yourself and wait for any objections, either way, he lets you lay down, and eventually, lays down next to you. Your hands hold each other tightly, your head is resting on his shoulder and it feels strangely perfect, despite how stiff his shoulders are.

This becomes semi natural in your schedule, but only after a long day, cuddling each other until you or him are on the brink of sleep, and then you return to your bed. You two still sleep in separate beds, that's just how he prefers things, no matter how much he trusts you, it's just more comfortable.

I'd recommend cuddling in summer, because, he's insanely cold and the winter is not at all suited for cuddle sessions between you two.

It takes a bit for you two to start calling each other 'boyfriend', not because Bi-Han doesn't consider you his lover, and therefore boyfriend, but because he sort of just assumes that kissing, cuddling, all of that, makes you together automatically, and, he doesn't like announcing his relationships.

It's not like he's embarrassed of you, he seriously isn't, but, you're the only person who sees the vulnerable side of him, and he prefers to keep it that way. None of the other Lin Kuei members, god forbid any one else, deserves to know your relationship with each other.

Dates are rare, extremely rare, you two have major responsibilities within the clan, and, Bi-Han doesn't trust anybody enough for them to run it while you two are away, so, the most date-like thing you'll experience is eating dinner together after every one has had theirs and left.

[hwavsg4ch4n]

Awkward|| L.M

Note: hi guys, this is actually a music series (more info linked) bonus. I usually write multiple versions of a smut per song and choose which one fits the vibe the most. this one was actually supposed to be for SYNERGY (linked), but I reworked it and made it better for "Awkward". I haven't been here for a while and decided that I'm the kind of writer that likes to pop in randomly lol. I'm thinking about turning this into a mini-series separate from the music series. After you read this, please follow the link at the end and vote on the pole if you think this would be a good mini-series! ps. word count of 4,783... get a snack.

Disclaimer: I have decided not to no longer put any tags in my works to avoid unneeded spoilers. I will only warn when there are extremely triggering aspects in my work. Read at your own discretion.

Synopsis: You've been single for years, it's sad really. coming up with excuse after excuse as to why you should be okay. Then society introduced the appearance of 'soulmates', and somehow everything got worse. But then there's your boss, what should you do with him...

this is a mature work of fiction (18+), this does not represent any real-life figures, this is just for entertainment.

Music series bonus <masterlist>

You tilted your head back, gulping down the rich red wine as the brisk night air glided across your naked arms.

What was love? It was stupid, at least that’s what you always told yourself. Love is dumb, for the weak; and you weren’t weak. You wished you believed your thoughts, but you couldn’t help but crave love. What it felt like, sounded like, what it smelled like, what it tasted like. 

Jealousy was a disease and you hated to admit that you were practically hospitalized and in a coma from said disease. 

However, solidarity was alright sometimes. It was rewarding, no arguments, no having to worry what your partner was up to if they were taking care of themselves properly. You only had to worry about yourself… is it bad that was your biggest con to single life? Only having to worry about yourself.

You told yourself this for years. That was until early last year, when the CDC came out with a new phenomenon. They called it, soulmates. You thought it was corny. You watched as scientists explained the symptoms, and how it starts. How it feels, how you can differentiate your feelings blah blah blah, it was bullshit in your eyes. But not many felt the same. 

The day after the news of soulmates reached the public, your office became littered with pairings. Mia from accounting and Felix in your branding apartment paired up instantly. Everyone saw that one coming. They were frauds, had to be, the CDC said their research is still new, meaning they’ll need long-term volunteers that they’ll compensate. That's when fake soulmates started appearing. You called bullshit when the news stated authentic soulmates are now being deemed rare. The CDC just wanted to cover its tracks, hiding another economic decline. Soulmates weren’t real.

Your loneliness grew worse because of your slight rebellion. You didn’t put yourself out there, scared someone would falsely claim you as a soulmate. It’s nights like this where you want to let yourself fall in line. Here you are, alone at the Valentine’s Day company party for another year, this time due to self-sabotage. You already hated this holiday, but of course, science had to make it worse. On the balcony sipping expensive wine your boss bought for everyone, you tried your best to drown out the jazz music and giggles as coworkers showed off their engagement rings.

Minho watched you through the glass door of the balcony with hesitancy. He tuned out the conversation he was dragged into. “Mr. Lee, what are your opinions on soulmates.” He looked at the second department secretary, taking in her inquiry, “I’m not quite sure.” He was telling the truth, he didn’t think much of it, if it was true great, if it wasn’t, it didn’t really affect him in any way, probably just another pity thing. The marriage statistic was getting low, he read it in a paper. Minho took one more sip from his whiskey glass before setting it down and excusing himself.

Everyone in the office knew that Minho, the COO of this company, took a liking to you; everyone was jealous in fact. The kind, extroverted, unmarried, painfully attractive man… liked you. The seemingly cold, work-a-holic, introvert of a woman. He’s liked you since before the news came forth with their studies, yet you were oblivious. Your self-esteem is so low that you wouldn’t dare to even think a man like Minho would see you in such a way, not when people are trying to claim the bachelor every day. 

You looked over your shoulder as the balcony door opened. You smiled politely, “Mr. Lee, how are you?” You asked gently. He couldn’t help but smile at the sound of your voice, not even trying to hide the shivers that trailed down his spine at your tempt voice. “I’m doing well, but I couldn’t help but feel bothered when I saw you out here alone. Are you not cold, Ms. L/n?” You watched as he made his way next to you, leaning against the metal railing. He gazed at the city skyline, awaiting your answer.

You took another sip of wine. “It’s a bit chilly, but I can manage.” Short and simple, polite. That’s all Minho got from you. He's never wanted a person to rant to him for hours so badly, but that would be seen as unprofessional. He clears his throat, standing up straight. “Are you not having fun?” He asked. Maybe it was the wine that compelled you to answer him differently than you normally would. “To be honest, Mr. Lee,” He raised his brows, turning to you fully. “What is it?” You let yourself answer. “I don’t really favor office parties.” You chuckled before downing the last bit of your wine.

Minho frowned before biting his lip. “I hope it’s okay that I call you by your name,” He started, “Sure.” He gulped dryly before giving you an offer. “Would you like to get out of here, y/n?” You finally faced him, brows furrowed as your eyes lingered across his figure, taking him in.

White button-up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, black slacks, dark auburn hair fallen into his eyes, the eyes that were surveying you softly. It would be strange, to ride off into the night with your boss on the night the company is rumored to rename the festive party ‘soulmates night'. But you’ve had about 3 full glasses of wine, and you’re bored plus inquisitive.

“Where would we be going?”, he smiles.

After bidding an awkward goodbye to your coworkers, and avoiding questioning looks about the two of you leaving together; you finally made it to Minho’s car.  

“Wanna catch a late movie?” Your head tilted in question, he drove out of the parking lot the humming of the engine fills the silence. Smirking to yourself in disbelief, you agreed. 

The ride was filled with conversation, the longest non-work related conversation you’ve had with this man. He spoke of everything you didn’t think he’d speak of. How he missed home, how living in a bustling city was fun, but the sound of waves beat the sound of honking horns. You couldn’t help but ask him questions, you didn’t care if they were the right questions. You were comfortable, too comfortable. Was it the wine you downed? Maybe the grand looking air freshener in his car. It hurts your pride to admit that it might just be him. He smelled nice and spoke to you gently in that voice he would use to remind you of your lunch hour. 

You took in a breath as his hands on the steering wheel came into view, “Oh sweet jesus”. You pressed yourself into the black leather seat. It’s the wine, it has to be the wine. Minho turned to you as he finished parking, “You ready?” 

-

No one was there in the theater, no one but the two of you. You couldn’t focus on the movie, all you could focus on was how you were alone with Minho, completely alone with him. 

You were zoned out until you were pulled back to reality. “Are you enjoying the movie?” He whispered, not looking in your direction, his eyes glued to the projected screen. You couldn’t help but ask bluntly, “What are we doing?” 

Minho looked at you, you felt his gaze so you looked back. “Mr. Lee, it’s soulmates night.” He frowned, chewing on his popcorn. His heartbeat quickened, were you implying something?

 It was dark, but you could see him like there was the light of a halo above him. “What do you wish we were doing, Y/n?” Why did he ask you that? Why did he ask like he wanted to fulfill a wish?

You looked away, parted lips and furrowed eyebrows. He couldn’t see your face properly, he took your silence as rejection, and maybe he read you wrong. “I don’t mean to upset you, I apologize. Let’s finish the movie, then I’ll take you home?” You didn’t want to finish the movie, you weren’t even watching the boring movie.

Your heart was pounding, was this what proper desire felt like? It felt different from your crush on the Grey’s Anatomy guy. Was this what being wanted felt like? But he’s your boss… You felt a surge of warmth, a shallow buzzing feeling accumulated in your fingertips, must be excitement. Your conscious almost coming alive, fuck it, give in. You did just that.

Biting your lip you breathed in deep, “I don’t want to continue the movie.” You stated in a whisper. You couldn’t see it clearly, but Minho grew worried, worried he scared you off completely.

“Oh- would you like to, would you like for me to take you home now, Miss. L/n?” He didn’t want to use your first name, afraid of abusing his power. It made you flinch, “I thought you said… you were gonna use my name from now on?” You whispered. Finding his eyes in the slim light provided by the screen.

He licked his lips, although it was out of his nervousness, the action made you gulp. “My apologies, Y/n.” you weren’t aware of it yet, but you held all the power at this given moment. He’d do anything you told him to with no question.

“I do want to get out of here, but I don’t want to go home Mr. Lee.” You said, standing up, and grabbing your purse. Minho stood up as well, eyes never leaving your form as he studied you for unspoken answers.

“I would like to see where my boss lives, I’ve always been curious.” your lashes fluttering, as you peered up at him with a quick pulse and sweaty palms. What if you read him wrong, what if he dismissed you and fired you on the spot? What if this whole ordeal was just because he pitied you for being single for every Valentine’s Day party?

“Well, I should let you overcome your curiosity, shouldn’t I Y/n?” He said with amusement. “After you.” He moved out of the way, letting you lead the way out of the theater.

You continuously asked yourself what you were doing on the drive to his house. Well, you knew what you were doing. You were lonely, and tired of it, taking up a messy offer that could end up in you getting scammed by this man. You’ll apologize in the mirror later. Hitting rock bottom was something you would worry about tomorrow. Your hazy mind only lets you think about his veiny hand gripping the gear shift.

What would happen if you took it upon yourself to place him where you wanted him? 

Working up the courage, you sucked in a breath before allowing your fingers to trace his cufflinks, trailing your fingers around his wrist. His fastened pulse boosted your ego, looking to see his reaction. Minho remained focused on the road, with no intention of stopping you as he blinked and took more deep breaths than a calm human would.

You couldn’t help but lick your lips as you brought his hand to the warm flesh of your warm thigh, just under the hem of your black tweed skirt. Your blood pumped at the thought of how he’s letting you have your way. He wanted this too, to touch you. His hand was warm, and comforting. You liked how pretty it was on your skin, admiring the visual as your nails traced his veins.

Minho didn’t mean to squeeze, he did it subconsciously. He didn’t realize he did it until you gasped shallowly, clenching your thighs around his hand and looking up at him with the lowest gaze he’s ever seen from you.

“Sorry.” He muttered, rubbing his hand along the inside of your thigh in an attempt to soothe, not wanting to get you too worked up just yet. But his touch had the opposite effect. You didn’t want to wait anymore. It was known that Minho’s house was in the rich part of the city, all the way across town. Even Though it was a mere 30 minute drive, the distance felt like an eternity. 

“Minho,” Minho gulped dryly. Your deep tone sent shock waves through his body, he enjoyed how his name dripped off your tongue. “Yes, Y/n?” His voice remained steady, not wanting to ruin something that could get so good. “I want you to pull into the park, I wanna watch the sky with you.” You whispered. Minho’s heart grew soft as you continued to trance his veins. He nodded silently, ready to take every command you asked of him.

You watched as he parked, the view of the city was beautiful, but that wasn’t your focus as of now. 

There was a silence, loud, swallowing the city sounds in the distance. Your body shifted, rotating towards him. Minho turned to you, his grip on your thigh tightening slightly as he took in the view of you. “Kiss me,” Yes you were being blunt, and bold, but you didn’t care. Who cares?

You grinned as Minho pulled you on his lap, his strength not surprising you; considering how his arms looked way too confined in every dress shirt he owned. Your eyes shut as his lips collide with yours. Soft, buttery, warm, so so warm, and buzzing… your lips were buzzing. The feeling of him was clouding your judgment. Minho’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer. He tilted his head, kissing you deeper. Pulling back slightly, he watched as you followed him. Minho smiled, softly chuckling. You opened your heavy lids, growing shy to see his gaze. Your lips parted as he pushed you even closer, rubbing against the growing tent in his slacks, you jolted as your core began to buzz as well. Your lips molded with his once more, and the sounds of what you presumed to be fireworks sounded in the distance.

 His breathing was heavy as you disconnected to catch your breath. Minho’s hands tilted your head to the side slightly, breathing you in softly, lips grazing your skin as you shuttered, your fingers gripping his sleeve. He licked his lips before kissing your collarbone, traveling up your neck, absorbing every gasp you let out. 

You feel his hand slide to the back of your head, angling your face down so his eyes can meet yours as he lays his forehead on yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you, y/n.” Your heart panged, searching his eyes for truth. He wanted you, Minho, your boss, wanted you. 

Your hands traced his bottom lip, and you blinked softly, “Take care of me then, yeah?” You whispered. He smiled gently, gripping your jaw and pulling you back. 

The both of you suck in a breath as Minho presses his lips to yours once more, his hand pushing your head impossibly closer. He wanted to feel you, meet with you in ways he’d only imagined. You were letting him give you what he thought was impossible for him. Truthfully, he would’ve liked to ask you out on a proper date. But this would suffice if it was what you wanted from him.

The two of you kissed for a while, gradually feeling and touching each other. Feeling what was never seen. Your body grew warmer, the buzzing centered to your stomach as you bunched up his shirt, wanting to feel his skin bare against yours. “Minho,” It didn’t mean to sound like a plea, “What is it? What do you want me to do?” His voice was breathy, low, needy, and ready to please. You couldn’t get enough. “Off.” You tugged at his collar. Barely even a second later, he began to unbutton his shirt. You wasted no time placing your hands on his sculpted chest once exposed, gulping as you stared at his skin. Absentmindedly gliding your manicured fingers across him.

Minho watched your every move, whimpering as your fingertips flicked his nipples. Your nails left gentle scratches, he licked his lips at the sight. He can’t recall ever wanting someone so badly, to the point he was painfully hard, closing his eyes and throwing his head back at the slightest touches you granted him. 

You wanted his reaction intensively, feeling his twitching member under you as you pinched and rubbed his nipples. His chest rose and fell at a somewhat hurried pace, the tips of his ears grew red, and so did his lips as he couldn’t stop licking and biting at them. It’s not like the action helped keep him quiet. His heavy breathing began to get mixed in with soft whimpers.

You smiled, “Who knew you’d be so sensitive.” You mumbled. “Sorry… uhm. I’m not usually like this.” You grinned at his hushed awkwardness. “Trust me, I don’t mind.” You whispered back, your hands continued tracing the outline of him. One by one you left open kisses on his neck, traveling up behind his ear. You sucked at his warm skin, “I hope the secretary doesn’t see what I’m leaving on you Mr. Lee, I think she might have a crush on you.” You said playfully, smiling against his clammy skin, sucking another bruise. Minho’s hands travel to the bottom of your skirt in response, pulling the fabric to bunch at your waist. He squeezes at your thighs as you find the spot that meets his shoulder and neck, his breath shallows. His hips bucking as you suck and nip at the skin. You were hot to the touch, it heightened the feeling of you on him. 

Minho isn’t sure how you got the one up on him, but he lets your hands wander to the buckle of his belt. He looks up at your face, your eyes full of determination as you swiftly take off his belt, unbuttoning his pants. He can’t help but smirk as he feels heat center in his stomach, “You’ve got me right where you want me y/n,” Your movements slow as you start to push his pants down to his ankles, “You’re the only one who’s ever gotten me like this.” Minho watches you bite your lip as he feeds into your ego. His eyes shoot down as you grasp his erection through his boxers. “Haven’t been this hard in so,” his voice shakes as your grip tightens “So long, fuck baby.” Your lips part at his words, looking up to see his head thrown back at the seat. You tap at his tip, the fabric starting to stick to his precum as you admire the bites you left on his skin. 

“Minho,” You call out softly, he opens his eyes to see you staring at his member. The look in your eyes almost makes him ask if you want him to take over. Your eyes were glazed over, your lips pouty as you tug at his boxers, he smirks slightly. “I’ll get these out your way, sorry baby.” Your pussy clenched around nothing at the use of the pet name again, it feels so good to be called that, the buzzing shoots to your core before centering again. It almost felt like a boost of arousal, you were too enraptured by the man in front of you to care.

Your hands returned to his stiffened member as soon as it sprang free, you felt Minho tense at your touch. You looked up at him as you began to stroke him lightly. His eyes were hooded, he watched your hand quickly become slick with his arousal as you pumped at a careful pace. Minho licked his lips, noticing through his foggy mind how you still remained fully dressed. Your thighs only exposed because he decided to tease just once. Yes, his words earlier were to edge on your performance, but they were true. Minho has never been on the receiving end, he loved giving, if you told him to take over he’d do it gladly. More importantly, his need to please was strong, if pleasing you meant stepping back a bit he’s happy too. However, he didn’t anticipate his sensitivity to your touch. He hears himself whimper as your pumping speeds up, the rising heat traveling down to his member. He jolts as the pleasure intensifies. A hand hovers over your pumping one before holding himself back and placing it back on your thigh.

He’s starting to lose a battle, don’t cum, not yet, she’ll get bored soon and touch you somewhere else, don’t fucking cum. He chanted to himself, one of his hands moved to your ass, gripping as his other kept shelter on your thigh. You watched as he shut his eyes tight, his lips parting as he huffed out puffs of air. You smiled in triumph as he began to shake his head side to side, starting to lose his internal war, “B-baby… y/n, I’m gonna c-cum baby,” His voice was hoarse.

You tilted your head, sliding your pumping up to only his tip. His thighs jolted, his eyes opening as he started to look at you for pity. He only saw you looking at his dick dreamily, the heat in his stomach pulses. He swallows down his need to overcome you, opting to let himself relax.

Minho cursed, he groaned deeply, throwing his head back. His brain started to become unmanageably fuzzy. 

“Y/n.” He whispered, licking his lips.

His smooth thighs flexed.“You’re so good baby,” Your lips parted at his soft whimper.

You grin, slowing down your pumping, giggling as he whimpered trying to fuck your palm the heat causing his tip to pulse. “You like me huh, Minho?” Your words were teasing. You were met with an eager nod. Cooing, you slipped off your underwear. You looked into his brown eyes, just when you thought he let himself surrender fully, he had some fight left in him. 

He gripped your waist, biting his lip as he guided you over his throbbing member. You let him sink you down onto his warmth. You whimpered, Minho watched carefully, looking for signs of you needing him to take over. Only for him to get knocked down again, his brows furrowed as you brace a hand on his blushed chest, beginning to ride him. He stared at your clothed chest, your nipples hard enough for the outline to push past your bra and blouse. With heavy breaths his eyes traveled up your littered neck, finally landing on your blissed face. “Pretty,” He whispered, so soft you barely acknowledged it. His brain was swirling with only the image of you, the smell of you reminding him of a warm cabin.

You looked down at him, giggling at his starry eyes and beads of sweat, you were unaware of the state his mind was in. You were enthralled by the thought of him being so pliant. Never in a million years did you think your boss would be under you with a flushed face and a throbbing dick. You feel his dick pulse as he squeezes his eyes shut. Your hands make their way to his jaw, “Are you holding your cum from me, Mr. Lee?” His member throbs again. Your voice and playful words have him shaking his head, gripping your ass so hard you're sure there will be a mark, it stirs you on. “Want you to... To cu-cum first.” He whispered. Your walls flutter and tighten around him, Minho’s eyes snap open, lifting you off him, and you forget about his strength for just a moment.

You peered down to see his jumping member and quivering thighs, precum leaking and he tried to catch his breath. You didn’t let him, you swatted his hold away, ignoring his groan as you seethed him back into your warm hole. “Ah, fuck I can’t hold it, baby.” He rasped out, listening to how wet you were. You didn’t answer him, tuning out his winning, starting to chase your own high that's been building up while watching him. The buzzing started to spread. You gripped his shoulders, pushing yourself closer to him. Minho’s hand placed itself on your sweaty back, bracing himself. His other hand slid down to your thigh, grazing where he was buried into you. His grip tightened, spreading your slick puffy lips slightly. “Min, that's so good.” You whimpered. He hummed, burying his head into your neck. He shifted, widening his legs the best he could, and started to meet your thrusts. 

Your mouth formed an O, tears forming in your eyes as he hit the gummy spot you never reached on your own. Before you knew it your body began to go numb from the pleasure, the buzzing reached every inch of you in what felt like a millisecond. Minho felt your muscles detense, he whimpered as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He chuckled tiredly at the sound of your babbling. You finally needed him, you were close and god knows he is too. He fucked into you like you’ve unlocked a different part of him. 

“Gonna c-cum min.” You whimpered, “I know baby, I Know.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, feeling his self control finally coming to an end. He grunts, taking a hand and reaching between your radiating bodies. You moan so loud you're sure any late night hikers would be able to hear you. Your thighs shake as if it feels you’re physically experiencing the color red, the buzzing now being heard in your ears, distracting you from your release covering his thighs as yours shake. Minho grunts before he bites down on your shoulder, seeing sparks of deep green as he squeezes his eyes shut, spilling himself into you as he starts to hear crackles of fire. 

When you close your eyes you're met with the visions of the man that’s under you. Images of his life, his milestones,  you feel what he felt all in the blink of an eye. The images seize, and you’re yanked out of the dreamy state, catching your breath. You gulp, slowly facing him. His eyes meet yours, “Did you see that?” he whispered. You nodded, your fingertips still buzzing. “I-is this that soulmate thing?” his voice slightly above a murmur. Your body tensed, “What?” He looked into your eyes, he could almost feel your fear, “U-uh nothing.” He lifted you off him gently, ignoring what the sight of his release dripping from you did to him. Minho watched as you straightened yourself out in the passenger seat of his car. His eyes glanced at the foggy windows before returning to your now tense form.

Were you his… soulmate? He thought it was just a speculation that scientists made up to give the single population hope. He cleared his throat, putting his softening member back into his boxers, and lifting his pants up. “I’ll, uhm… I’ll drive you home.” Minho licks his lips nervously as he puts on his wrinkled button down. He looked at the time on his watch, 12:57am. He moves to turn on the engine. 

“You believe them?” Minho glanced your way, taking in your question. “Do you believe what they say on the news?” He blinked, thinking of a proper answer as he started to drive out of the parking lot. “I mean,” He turned to enter the freeway. “If it’s on the news, there has to be some truth.” You took in his words, rolling down the window. “Y/n, the… symptoms that they described, that’s what just happened.” You frowned, looking out the window taking in his words. “I saw you, your middle school graduation,” you glower at him, his eyes were on the road, only glancing at you briefly. “I saw your first, and only relationship…” He paused, seeing your hands clasp together nervously out of the corner of his eye. He changed the topic, “When I… finished, I saw green, a forest green. And I heard fire, like a campfire.” 

You gazed at his side profile. Without a word, you looked forward. You gave him the directions to your apartment.

As he pulled into your driveway, you grabbed your purse putting it on your shoulder. Minho said nothing when you opened the door as soon as he came to a stop, not even giving him a chance to put the car in park. You stepped out, your heels clacking on the pavement. You took in a deep breath before bending down, coming into his view again. You looked at his longing eyes, waiting for you to say anything to grant him peace of mind. “I’ll see you on Monday Mr. Lee.” With that, you closed his door. Gulping down anxiety as you steadily walk to the entrance of your apartment.

-

Link to vote for this to become a series [click on me]!

[dr-zeddy]

Miquella is a deeply tragic character and saying he's a villain just because he used someone, who was probably way worse than him to create an order lead by kindness, makes you come off as pretty short-sighted imo Miq was as much of a victim as Mohg. He had good intentions, he truly believed he could make the he could make the world a better place.

*exhales deeply* Are you the person, I think you are? nonetheless....

I'm going to shed my opinion on Miquella now because I seriously can not tell if this is bait or not from things we see and know in the base game and DLC and want to clarify my thoughts on him and why I believe rendering him as a victim is extremely problematic, also outside of the entire Mohg situation.

Is it so hard to internalize that the things Miquella did were actually highly morally questionable? I got to admit, he is a way more interesting character to me after the DLC because of the things he did (and I enjoy villains, so yeah.) I guess the »villain« term is as much accurate as some of you folks justify brainwashing to be ethical , when it is done with good intentions and keeps the peace, with which I personally do not agree with at all.

I don't see Miquella as tragic because honestly we have nothing to suggest that this guy suffered in any way before he decided to rip himself off of his personality. And that is the point, he decided to do that himself. No one forced him to this. Miquella had a choice, unlike Mohg. Yeah sure, you could argue that he suffered through his immense »empathy« but honestly, Miquella's empathy for the weak and shunned always came off as superficial. Why does he not care for the Albinaurics being tortured in Castle Sol, which is clearly allied with him? Where are the Misbegotten and other creatures in Elphael? Where are the Albinaurics? And the Omens? The Nomads?? Miquella claims to want to create a perfect world where everyone is equal but honestly except for words we hear, we do not see any fucking action or effort to truly include them in his world order.

And that's the thing, Miquella reeks for me at best of naivity and at worst of white saviour complex. He grew up as a fucking empyrean, he had a good relationship with at least one of his parents, he was a golden child. From the things we see and hear in the base game, and now the DLC, it feels like Miquella does not seem to grasp the complexity of the situation when it comes to subjugation. If that is due to his child-like thinking, infused by his curse or actually just his personality, is up for debate. Can you truly care for the subjugated as someone more privileged? Absolutely. But only if you truly educate yourself on the matter and actually listen to the needs of the excluded and shunned.

What does Miquella do instead? He rips everyone off of their autonomy to make decisions themselves if they refuse or challenge his beliefs. That is textbook tyranny. You can not save someone, who refuses to be saved by someone like you. Doing so anyway is extremely ignorant. In the end, Miquella actually puts his needs & beliefs before that of those he claims to desire to save. He is so convinced of his own agenda that he loses track of the moral dilemma, his approach to worldpeace poses. That is not tragic. These are the thoughts of a megalomaniac. If Miquella's selflessness was truly genuine there would be no need of compelling affection. However, he bewitches people. Over and over.

Of course, there are his efforts of curing Malenia still. But even that is, in the big sight of things, not really a selfless act because Malenia is a.) close family and b.) he gets and actual use out of Malenia's talent as a skilled swordswoman. I do not think Miquella bewitched her, I truly believe Malenia followed him by his own will and I also do believe he really did want to help her! However true kindness lays in how you treat those who can do nothing for you. Bewitching those who can do nothing for you and refuse to follow you, is not exactly a very pretty picture of his character.

And in comes Mohg to this occasion. The game is so fucking obvious about the fact that Mohg was the exploited one and I seriously do not understand why people still insist he isn't and exploited Miquella?? He is the only demigod we know for certain of, who was brainwashed. With Radahn and Malenia we do not know for sure but with Mohg we do. The fact that Mohg was bewitched implies that Miquella could not be sure that Mohg would have agreed to a deal and that would have been a way safer route than to bewitch him and his closest consult. I mean, Miquella almost DIED because he underestimated Ansbach's knowledge on how Mohg behaves. Why the fuck risk that if you could have just openly made a deal with Mohg, if he was as power hungry and crazy as the game implied?

In contrast to Miquella, Mohg is actually one of the most tragic characters in the game. This motherfucker was told his mere existence is a crime, grew up in the sewers locked away for years, he had no one except this one Outer God who seemed to care for him and showed him maternal love, something he was deprived off his entire life. Not getting into the speculation on how the cult operated before Miquella took over but it's very clear that he ruined Mohg's life. Mohg just wanted to get away from the toxicity he grew up with and created his own haven, from which he too thought, was the right thing to do. However he never forced anyone to join him. He never mind controlled people. People followed him by their own accounts.

The cult in itself is probably morally questionable too but we also have no idea how the Mohgwyn Dynasty worked before Miquella essentially took over. But by that standard, everyone is in the Lands Between is a twisted bastard with their different agendas ….

The point is that Ansbach is still right though when he says that »Mohg deserved better«. NO ONE who is genuinely interested in helping the shunned and subjugated, would chose one of the most excluded and tormented souls as their pawn. NOBODY deserves to be treated like this but the fact that Mohg is a product of extreme racism and social exclusion makes it so much worse and makes Miquella look so much more hypocritical. It suits the stuff we see in Castle Sol and the Haligtree … Miquella wants to be seen as the world's saviour so badly but seems to have no understanding on what suffering actually means. Because he never experienced it. His empathy is superficial and short sighted. The fact he is convinced he is doing everyone a favour in bewitching them, and does everything in his power to achieve his dream, makes him a truly terrifying villain. And that is something I like Miquella for. Is that really so hard to accept for people like you?

Sure, you can still live out the fantasy in your head that the mindcontrolling intermitted in Mohg to "grape" Miquella (even tho the game also never confirmed this????) if that pleases you, but for the love of God stop acting like it is a fact that Miquella was used by Mohg because he wasn't. I guess a lot of personal feelings from my side bubble up regarding this topic and I'm sorry of if I come off as passive aggressive but as a survivor of abuse as a minor by someone "popular", and nobody believed me, and Mohg being one of my comfort characters, that shit hits different. Just not a fan of turning victim-abuser dynamics upside down, sorry.

[utilitycaster]

Hi! Because I genuinely do love your take on things and every time I read through them, a new perspective that I had never even considered before makes itself known to me. So, I wanted to ask! Since Twitter (unsurprisingly) already got its hands on this discussion:

What are your feelings on the Mighty Nein being the ones to handle the Weave Mind over Bells Hells? Because for me, I always sort of knew that BH were going to be the ones to defeat Ludinus no matter what. It’s what they’ve been building up for.

However, some people say the M9 aren’t deserving of handling the Weave Mind because that was an antagonist made specifically for the Bells Hells. So, I was interested in seeing your thoughts about this (strange) discussion.

Hi anon, thanks!

I think it's great to have the Nein go after the Weave Mind, and I think, like most takes from the Twitter CR fandom, this is fucking stupid.

Given that Matt is the DM, and he's like "hey, I'm going to have a Trusted NPC call in the Mighty Nein to deal with the Weave Mind" I think the argument that the Weave Mind was made specifically for Bells Hells is not, in fact, true. The Weave Mind is an antagonist who was introduced with Bells Hells' campaign, rather like how Ludinus Da'leth is an antagonist who was introduced with the Mighty Nein's campaign and who has been the nemesis of Beau and Caleb in particular, and yet Bells Hells will be going after him in this scenario (and, to be clear, I think this is fine; I've expected Bells Hells to face off against Ludinus in the end).

I would be interested in understanding if the motivation here is "I wish the Nein were going after Ludinus and Bells Hells were going after the Weave Mind" which I think is far less interesting given that Ludinus has been such a consistent enemy of Bells Hells as well but at least I can puzzle out a not terribly intelligent but consistent sort of logic in it; or if this is a "I wish the past two parties weren't involved in this campaign at all" argument in which case, far too late for that; or if this is someone who specifically doesn't like the Mighty Nein throwing yet another tiresome and embarrassing temper tantrum on Twitter. But my opinion doesn't change; I think it's far more satisfying to see Bells Hells take on Ludinus than the Weave Mind, whom half of them haven't even met.

More generally, the idea of "doesn't deserve to fight the Weave Mind" is stupid on another level. I understand why people talk about which actual play character they wish to get the final blow on a particular enemy, even though dice will ultimately decide this. When it lines up - Vax with Thordak, Yasha with Obann - it's immensely satisfying. But you do not need to be the most wronged person to make meaning of a How Do You Want To Do This (FCG and Otohan being an obvious case here). Technically, the Volition deserves to fight the Weave Mind more! Half of Bells Hells hasn't even encountered the Weave Mind in any capacity! Braius and Dorian haven't been to the moon! Sometimes, you're fighting because it's part of, for example, a three-pronged plan that needs three separate simultaneous strike forces. Bells Hells can't do all three at once despite having claims to each of the targets unless they split up. Would you rather the parties split up in a mix of each? Because I'm not opposed per se but that could get pretty confusing all around. And if we're going to step out of the Watsonian argument that in-world, they can't do all three at once, see my next paragraph to address the Doylist "but Matt didn't need to set it up this way" one.

I am on the record as loathing the whole "it's their table and you can't criticize it because it's their game" bullshit. You can do so. You can do so even if there are very good reasons for their choices. You're always entitled to your own opinion and as long as you're not harassing people, it is morally neutral to say "this piece of fiction/art/whatever didn't do it for me," end of sentence. With that said. It's fine if people wish Campaign 3, like Campaigns 1 and 2, were more exclusively focused on one party's adventures rather than the all-hands-on-deck story that it is. But it is that story, and pretending this wasn't the result of a number of intentional choices by Matt and the cast and various collaborators is profoundly stupid at this point. I had my complaints as well, early on, but the time to get over this was episode 1, when Orym and Fearne and Dorian and Bertrand showed up with their ties to EXU and C1. Or it was episode 6, when Laudna revealed her connection to Delilah. Or episode 35, when that connection to Keyleth was leveraged. Or episode 50, when Beau and Caleb appeared; or Episode 51, when multiple past PCs were present at the solstice; or Episode 66, when we further met with Keyleth; or Episode 86, when Sending came back on and both Caleb and Jester spoke to the party; or Episode 92, when we cut back to the Crown Keepers; or Episode 94, when Essek showed up; or Episode 99, when Downfall began. If you're still holding on hope now in the endgame, I think it's too late. That's not the campaign this is, and it never was, and you can wish that you had something more self-contained like Campaign 1 or 2 but with Bells Hells, but that's all it is - a wish, unfulfilled.

[triluvial]

Imagine being a freman captured by feyd and just as you’re on the cusp of stockholm syndrome he spits on you. To him he’s just degrading you but you see it as an honor he’s giving you his water…

oh I love this. I feel like to fall into this the Reader has to be primed for it.

Like the Fremen seem to live in fairly small groups (aside from the deep south) so if Reader came from a bigger family then their romantic options may be severely limited. Reader, feeling lonely and longing to leave their small settlement just to find romance would be a great start for this AU.

Then when Feyd captures her, she knows he's probably going to be tortured and killed or turned into a slave. She may have read books and heard stories of dark lovers being soft for their one true love but she's not an idiot, she's under no illusions this will happen to her.

But then the first few weeks pass and Reader is unharmed. She's not tortured or raped and doesn't even see the face of any person other than Feyd.

Feyd is likely thinking he'll keep Reader like an exotic pet - the last of her kind once he razes Arrakis to dust - as he torments her with news of Fremen death. (Paul's rebellion is taking way longer ig)

Unintentionally, he's training Reader bit by bit to be totally dependant on him. He brings her food and water when he visits every second day so the relief of hunger and thirst becomes inescapably entwined with Feyd's presence. As he is literally the only other person she sees, he becomes the only thing she can think about, the only thing she ever dreams about.

This is when the spitting scene occurs. It's a declaration of love. Reader's thrilled. She swallows. Feyd begins to spend more and more of his time just thinking about Reader because no one ever reacted that positively to him just behaving however he wanted (this would probably work best if the Harpies weren't allowed to come with him, were killed right after he arrived on Dune or never existed in the first place).

Childish dreams of an Out-Worlder sweeping Reader off her feet and away from her inescapable family and into a life of dramatic romance begin to be mapped onto Feyd's face as Reader spends most of her time alone in the darkness of her cell.

Until I'm thinking Gurney and some Fremen scouts break into the Arrakeen palace for an assassination attempt and while they're there, they free Reader against Paul's orders (Hey, she has a big family at least two of them are on the team). She's ok with leaving until she learns they want to assassinate Feyd. The Harkonnen tactics advanced so much upon his arrival they think they can win if they take him out. Reader knocks them out from behind. This is how Feyd find her. Surrounded by the unconscious bodies of her would-be rescuers.

I couldn't pick an ending here so here's both:

Feyd tests Reader by "accidentally" letting her take one of his swords. She uses it to kill the scouting team to protect him. He proposes with the idea of stringing her along and seeing what else he could make her do for him before locking her up again. However, the horror that his fiancée evokes in the Bene Gesserit makes him so happy he decides to drag it out longer. Then, she tells him about the deep-south holdouts and stops him from relaxing when all the northern Fremen are seemingly dead he has to keep her on his arm a little longer. Then she wins a sparring match against him so he has to keep her around until he can soundly beat her, take everything she can teach him and turn it against her. Before he knows it they've been engaged for a year and there's legitimate wedding planning happening. He still wouldn't call it love but it might be as close as he gets. Reader still loves it when he spits on her.

Feyd gets Reader to fake a break-out and helps her move the unconscious rescuers out a secret escape. When they wake up she claims Feyd found them but she killed him and dragged them all to freedom. She's his spy on the inside and with the confidence of Feyd's supposed assassination Paul and the other Fremen will be overconfident. This would probably culminate in Feyd winning the knife fight against Paul and then saying, "You did perfectly, sweetheart." And Reader bolting like an Olympian into his still bloody arms.

[dira333]

dira my darling!

can i request a fluffy plotbunny with bakugo? something with casual dominance, bc i would love to have someone boss me around. like,, he says sit and im sat? Im very bossy/pushy overall so a bf that's casually dominant and who i dont have to think around or help lead like i do everything else would be a dream come true xD

thank you for being so kind as to share your amazing pieces with us!!!!

*Pretending I have the time to write by eating my lunch in front of the computer* It's called Multi-Tasking

Also, I've had a hard time with this prompt because it feels like it's skirting along the line of suggestiveness, or is that just me being weird?

Going back in time...

"Stay," a voice whispers as you get up, warm lips pressed against the shell of your ear. "I'll get your drink."

"If only you'd listen to someone else like that," your best friend scoffs the moment you're seated again.

"Hah?" You ask, hackles rising.

"You know exactly what I'm referring to," Mina scoffs yet again, staring you down. Or at least, she's trying.

Your best friend of almost twenty years might just be as bossy as you are, but that doesn't mean you bow to her whims. Like she'd do it for you...

"What are we talking about?" Kirishima leans in, propping his head on his girlfriend's shoulder.

"How my best friend in the world does not listen to me." Mina points one pointy nail at you. "Especially considering I'm the one planning her surprise party."

"Please," you scoff, "like it could have been a surprise. You could never keep a secret from me. I'm just taking care of it."

"Bakugo!" Mina calls for the kitchen where your fiancé went seconds ago to get you another drink. "Help me here! Your fiancée's still trying to weasel her way into planning her own surprise party."

"Like hell, I'm helping you," Bakugo scoffs, looking down his nose at her. "And if my Baby doesn't trust your taste, I fully trust hers." He leans down to kiss you, pressing the glass into your hands.

"But I'm getting the flowers tomorrow."

"But-" You try to intervene but one look from him has you silent.

"See!" Mina asks Kirishima, pointing at the two of you. "One look and she shuts up. It never works when I do it."

"Yeah, but it's Bakugo," Kirishima offers like it's all the explanation needed.

-

"Do you ever listen to somebody?" Bakugo asks, raspy morning voice cutting through the Silence. You barely keep yourself from flinching, but the smirk on his lips tells you that he noticed. It seems he loves surprising you the most, mainly because you pride yourself in not getting surprised.

"I listen to a lot of people," you claim as you return to checking the Buffet table. You'd asked for Vegan Options and an egg-free dessert for the new secretary. Sweet-tooth, but highly allergic. It happens.

"You hear them," he says, "but you don't listen. Because I definitely heard Yukon tell you that he had the Buffet under control yet you're checking his work."

"And rightly so," you point out. "We're missing the egg-free dessert option."

"So?"

"So? I asked for it. He said he'd get it done. Do I have to do everything myself here? Apparently so."

"Sit down," he orders calmly, and you'd maybe wonder about his lack of temper had you not experienced him being like that around you for the last three years. Apparently, Bakugo turns into the chillest little prankster you could think of, but only around you. "I'll get it done."

You want to say something, but you decide against it. You've seen Bakugo deal with other stuff before, stuff that was definitely more important than getting an egg-free dessert for the new secretary. You know he can get this done.

"Fine," you huff, "But make it quick. I still need to go over the new recruits with you."

"Have I ever kept you waiting?" He asks as he turns away, leaving you flustered.

-

"Maybe we should appoint her for Class President," Sato offers quietly, but not quietly enough. "She's managed to talk Mina down in less than five seconds and it doesn't look like she takes shit from anyone."

"The title of Class President is-"

A loud boom interrupts whatever Iida has tried to say. When the smoke clears, there's only a small force field keeping Bakugo from strangling Kaminari, who looks a lot less frightened than anyone in his position should be.

"Calm down, will you?" You ask, looking down at Bakugo from where you're standing. Keeping up the force field is taking its toll, but you'd rather puke than admit to it. Not in front of Bakugo at least. "Aren't you better than that?"

Surprisingly, that seems to work. He calms down quickly, leaning back in his chair with a scoff. "True." He says, but his blood-red eyes don't leave you. It feels like a Challenge. One you're not sure you'll win.

[lesbianphan]

The Myth of Sisyphus and PHILosophy (lol) - a brief essay on two nerds playing a game that might not be that deep but hey who's gonna stop me from pushing this boulder up the hill of writing this?

Disclaimer: it's finally my turn to use my useless degree that included a lot of literary analysis for something extremely important to society: analyzing Dan and Phil content!!! yay!!! This is about to be incredibly nerdy and waffly, but like what else are you doing with your time anyway on phannie tumblr?? (pls read it, I just reread Camus for this for the first time in years okay I'm dedicated to my craft)

"The struggle itself towards the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy." Albert Camus

As a part of Camus' essays on absurdist philosophy, The Myth of Sisyphus deals with the pointlessness of existence, through retelling the story of the greek myth about the titular character who, as a punishment for defying Death, was condemned to spend eternity pushing a boulder up a hill just to watch it fall back down. That may sound bleak, such is the futile nature of getting up every day and doing tasks, after all.

However, that's not really what the essay conveys. As the quotation provided in the beginning shows, Camus' takeaway about the myth of Sisyphus isn't about how easy it would be to take the option of not engaging at all with the repetitive tasks that make life what it is, or even focusing on how disappointing this pointlessness is. It's about how the journey of getting up everyday and motivating yourself to hit the peak of the hill is all there is to life, really. The absurd conclusion is, ultimately, that pushing the boulder up the hill everyday is what true revolt against the senselessness of the universe is. If there is no reason, we make the reason by climbing up with our rock everyday.

We choose to be happy every day and appreciate our rock, our hill, our existence as a whole. We choose to believe Sisyphus is happy, and, as disappointing at it may sound at first, it's worth it to live your existence, as long as you decide to appreciate your present more than your future (the destination, that elusive peak of the hill).

In Dan's words, you decide to have "just one good night" together every night on tour, you appreciate the journey of climbing out of that mental health hole again. You climb up that hill again and again, because it's worth it, and there are things - bigger than yourself or your personal boulder or even your destination, - that are worth fighting for every day. You embrace the void, and have the courage to exist today, not tomorrow atop the hill.

As Camus' Myth of Sisyphus was, admitedly, one of the inspirations behind We're All Doomed (and it shows!), it makes it even more intriguing to inquire about how much of their reactions to that particular game about Sisyphus informs their perspectives on the world and their personal philosophies.

As a disclaimer, I must add: I don't claim to know Dan and Phil personally, and I only have acess to the parts of them they decide to share, the performing side of them. So, quite obviously, I can be fully off the mark on this one. Still I think it's interesting to dive into, if not for accuracy, at least for better understanding of the personas they portray online, and how their worldviews bleed into it.

The first big point a lot of people brought to the table is the shift in Dan's philosophy ever since writing and performing We're All Doomed and (most likely) a lot of therapy and work on himself over the years. Gone are the days of existential crises being treated as a joke, or mental health in general being discussed without care for what the audience may take from it. During the video, it's quite apparent that he tries very hard to mantain that voice of reason (sometimes breaking it out of frustration, which is fair!), to somehow guide us into an understanding of what this philosophy means to him personally and to his self-proclaimed magum opus WAD.

This is relevant, of course, insofar as this becomes the thesis of the video, silly gameplay and jokes aside. So I couldn't not mention it here, as it's extremely noticeable and commendable of him to now have a different kind of perspective towards the topic of mental health, in this more mature era of their content. You can tell it's relevant to him to try to get the point of the myth across, in a way that tells his audience, as much as it tells himself, that giving up isn't a choice. You must keep pushing that boulder and you must believe that Sisyphus is happy, and so will you be during that journey up the hill. Even when it falls down again and you meet frustration, you pick yourself back up and keep trying to enjoy the present once again.

Secondly, regarding Dan's behavior during the gameplay, it's notable that he gets extremely frustrated when the boulder falls down (who wouldn't?). However, he always tries to catch it and put it back in the path upwards, instead of throwing his hands and giving up like Phil seems to do. This shows, very loosely, how he handles frustration in his own life: trying to fix things and get them right on path again. It's sometimes the most difficult choice to make, but it's extremely corageous to just keep trying in face of extreme frustration. We've seen it all over gaming videos, but also on his own personal projects getting shut down, and Dan still insisting on carrying on creating things that are personal to him, even in face of rejection.

Phil, however, seemed to give up out of frustration extremely easily, so much so that Dan kept pointing it out how he'd let go of the controls and let it happen. It might not mean much, but since he himself claims he gives up on things that are too difficult, it might just be an aspect of his personality to literally let go in face of things he perceives as impossible to achieve.

It is also notable that when he made a mistake, no matter how competitive they usually are on the surface, Phil decided to ask Dan for help, or try to tag out entirely and hand it over. This may not only be related to frustration, but also to knowing how to ask for help, and also a belief that Dan is "the strongest one out of both of us" and he will be there always to help (quite adorable). Dan's tenacity in front of difficult situations is a great complement to Phil's anxious eagerness to hand over the controls when things get overwhelming.

It's interesting to point out how their personal worldview influenced their gameplay as well. Dan was focused, sharp, driven to get to the top of the mountain by keeping in complete control of the boulder at all times. He held on tight to the challenges and kept going, and he wasn't afraid to run back and catch himself enough to try again. Phil's style showed something very interesting about him that is notable in gaming videos in particular: Phil's propensity for making little goals and celebrating the little things in the path to a goal.

Getting through one obstacle that was once difficult is enough to make Phil seem content with his progress. He celebrates every little step of the journey and, in that way, it's easier for him to appreciate it naturally. He's focused on the little tasks more than the big picture, and that makes the experience more enjoyable. His goals shift, of course, as they progress through the level, and the difficulty ramps up. Even so, he's still more likely to point out that's the farthest they've gotten and, hey look at this ramp, let's get through this ramp and then we've won, because that's my goal right now, and that's enough to make me happy in the present.

This counterbalances Dan's more bleak outlook wonderfully as well. While Dan is focused on making it to the top of the hill, and gets extremely discouraged seeing there's a lot more ahead they'll never get to experience, Phil's view is that they got through that one challenge and, surely, next time they'll get through one more, and so on and so forth. Focusing on smaller things is, ultimately, a good way of finding happiness in the process of pushing up that boulder.

Moreover, Phil's brief comment about how you could "make up little stories in your head" is also extremely telling of the kind of person he is. As Camus' philosophy claims: the only way to live with an absurd world is by living through it and learning what it means to be happy in a world that doesn't make sense. In Phil's mind, a bearable way to get through the harrowing experience of every day existence is making up stories, which matches up with his creative mind. Art and creation are indeed things that can make life worth living, and it seems that even subconsciously, that's the path he'd choose against the pointlessness of repetition. The joy of creation is, certainly, and extremely human and beautiful way to find meaning in life.

The most interesting point I'd like to raise, though, is how they got through that game together: as much as Dan accused Phil of distracting him, it was interesting to see that he didn't notice that's entirely the point. The boulder falling down is nothing compared to the stories we share, the conversations we make. What is important is the journey you take, and hearing about your best friend's weird school inter-sports anecdotes, even if you have to start over because you got distracted.

And that's entirely the point I'd like to leave this of with: pushing up that boulder is only worth it if you learn to live, if you learn to love, if you learn to enjoy the present moment, instead of focusing on that ever elusive destination. Therefore, what makes not only the video interesting, but also the game bearable at all, is their interaction with each other. Much like in life as partners, Dan and Phil would, obviously, climb that hill together. They would find the joy in the little moments together, laugh, yell, get frustrated, pick each other back up again in moments of frustration, and keep going up that hill together.

The only way to live is if one imagines Sisyphus happy. The only way to exist is if you decide that, no matter what, you'll create your own meaning. The only way is to find joy in the now instead of later. The only way to make those grueling day to day tasks happy and fun, is by choosing hapiness. Dan and Phil have, in every sense, decided to keep climbing up that hill of existence together. It may be slow and clumsy and loud at times, but it's their own experience. Ultimately, the only way to experience that gaming content is by imagining Dan and Phil are happy to make it for us, and that we can all share a little bit of our hill in moments of laughter and community. That's what makes life worth it in the end.

A/N: this may be the weirdest thing I've ever done, pls accept me for who I am, thank!

[antianakin]

Didn’t get a picture but I saw someone on the internet claiming that

a. Ahsoka, unlike Obi-Wan, was actually good enough at combat to defeat Anakin properly at Mustafar and should have gone instead. (and just that she’s the best at combat out of all the Jedi or something along those lines) b. because of her training and goddess-ness it means she’s the Most Powerful Jedi now. I feel like your blog is a good safe space to express my complete annoyance with everything going on here. why. Why. I am so tired of this (and all the anti-Jedi people in the fandom as well.)

and also, I love all your analyses on Star Wars and they always brighten my day! Thank you!

Lollllll this is a VERY safe space to express annoyance at these takes.

For one, Ahsoka literally DOES go up against Anakin and she FAILS. Anakin punts her off the side of a cliff (it's technically a battlestation but they're very high up so whatever, I'm calling it a cliff) and she only manages to snag off a piece of his mask because she runs up behind him while he's distracted with Kanan and Ezra rather than because she's genuinely able to overpower him through skill alone. She gets LUCKY.

People seem to forget that Ahsoka does NOT recognize that he's Anakin for the beginning part of that fight on Malachor. Like technically, deep down, she probably DOES know, but she's convinced herself it isn't true and Anakin confirms that at the beginning by saying he's the one who destroyed Anakin, so Ahsoka can just... go at him with everything she's got with zero conflict at all. There is literally NOTHING holding her back here, this is Ahsoka at FULL FORCE and she fails pretty epically.

She doesn't really do any better once she DOES know it's Anakin because she's immediately refusing to go on the offensive at all, she's JUST defensive because she doesn't WANT to kill Anakin. And more than that, she REFUSES to kill Anakin. She feels guilty for what's happened to him because she's decided that it's her fault for having left him behind. That's the whole arc she's gone on in Rebels, it's why her line to him once she can't deny that it's Anakin anymore is "I won't leave you. Not this time." That's not the kind of thing you say to someone you're prepared to defeat and/or kill. Ahsoka is prepared to DIE here because she'd rather die than abandon Anakin a second time and killing him would ABSOLUTELY be counted in that category for Ahsoka.

So not only is she just not competent enough to have beaten Anakin, I don't think it's reasonable to argue she would've even WANTED to. If Ahsoka had been on Mustafar, Anakin probably would've killed her, and then he would've been able to capture Padme and the twins and who knows what he would've done if he'd been able to do that.

And even within the Ahsoka show, she goes up against Baylan more than once and loses EACH TIME. Baylan literally tells her that she CAN'T beat him. She just isn't good enough. And this is a FILONI-RUN SHOW, there are zero other writers on this show, so if Baylan is telling Ahsoka that she isn't good enough to beat him, then presumably Filoni himself believes that that's true, at least for now. I imagine that she WILL beat him eventually, but it may end up similar to her win in season 1 where she's relying on distractions from other people or assistance or something. Who knows. But either way, she can't even beat a regular Jedi like Baylan, so how the fuck is she supposed to have beaten a major powerhouse like ANAKIN when he would've been hell bent on her death and destruction?

Obi-Wan DOES defeat Anakin properly on Mustafar, he just can't full-on kill him because the narrative sort-of requires Anakin to survive. He does LEAVE Anakin to die, though, and if Yoda had succeeded against Palpatine, Anakin WOULD'VE died. Obi-Wan CHOPS OFF THREE OF ANAKIN'S LIMBS AND LEAVES ANAKIN TO BURN ALIVE, I'm not sure how much more properly defeated it is possible to get.

Also, the reason Obi-Wan defeats Anakin is almost never due to power levels. It's a combination of being centered/balanced in the Force and knowing Anakin so well that he can predict his moves extremely well. His win in ROTS on Mustafar isn't because Obi-Wan happened to be more powerful than Anakin, he's not. He just is aware enough of his surroundings to take advantage of an opportunity when he sees it and lasts long enough to be able to find it. The stunt choreographers also have explicitly stated that they intentionally choreographed this fight sequence with Obi-Wan consistently GIVING GROUND to Anakin in an attempt to give Anakin time to calm down and come to his senses. So not only is he just good enough to take advantage of an opportunity when he sees it, he's good enough to hold BACK for a while and still live through the fight. And if he's explicitly holding back in the fight, it means that there's even more power he could've been exerting and it's entirely possible that he might've been able to end the entire fight much earlier had he chosen to do so. There's never any kind of indication that that's true for Ahsoka during her one fight against him. She doesn't let herself get tossed off a cliff on purpose lol.

And of course in the Kenobi show, Obi-Wan wins in the flashback scene due to being SMARTER, not more powerful. In the final confrontation he wins because he's more BALANCED and is more willing to put everything he's got into his attacks and changes up his fighting style so he can take Anakin by surprise, so when he slashes off a piece of his helmet, it's not just because Anakin was distracted, it's because Obi-Wan genuinely fought Anakin down enough to make that hit.

Obi-Wan might genuinely be the ONLY person who could go up against Anakin and WIN by the time you get to the Rebellion era. And it isn't because he's more powerful than anybody else, he just happens to have an advantage against this particular opponent which means that the disparity in power-levels is canceled out by Obi-Wan's knowledge of Anakin and the fact that he is just straight up smarter in a fight than Anakin is.

Ahsoka, by contrast, was taught by a dude who tends to rely on brute force to win his fights, and so that's often ALSO how we see her win her own fights. Most of the fights we see her winning are against opponents who are far weaker than she is, like Inquisitors or Mandalorians. Occasionally she fights someone like Maul and has to be a little smarter about it, but most of her major victories are against weaker opponents. She's a brute force fighter, not a smart fighter most of the time, because she CAN be. But she's not more powerful than ANAKIN, and she'll never be able to brute force her way through a fight with him, and she's not smart enough to outwit him, even if she WAS willing to hurt/kill him.

I'm not sure what "training" this person might've been referring to, either, because Ahsoka gets 1.5-2 years of official Padawan training MAXIMUM and some of that would've been Anakin's bullshit blaster blocking training which isn't exactly going to help Ahsoka against ANAKIN HIMSELF. As for the goddess thing, while it's definitely sort-of in there and implied, it's not technically confirmed and so far nothing has really been shown about it that makes her exponentially more powerful than anyone else. She has to flee a fight against Baylan, she'd have died fighting Morgan and the zombies if Sabine hadn't stayed behind to help her, she'd have died on Malachor if Ezra hadn't jumped in to help her, etc. She doesn't seem to have any super special goddess powers that we've seen so far, so it seems a little early to be counting that in her power levels.

Not to mention that in the "Most Powerful Jedi Alive During the Mandoverse" competition, she doesn't have a shit load of competitors she's up against here. The only other options to compare her against that are currently confirmed to be alive post-ROTJ are Luke, Leia, and Grogu. All three of them are shown to be pretty powerful in the Force, but Leia likely isn't super well-trained and Grogu is still a child, and therefore it doesn't seem fair to compare them to Ahsoka at this point. But Luke? I have a hard time believing Ahsoka is MORE powerful than Luke. Close, perhaps, we know she IS supposed to be fairly powerful in general, it's why she was able to be a Padawan so early, but possibly not MORE powerful.

And power alone does not actually guarantee a victory. She could be more powerful than Baylan, but if he's a better fighter, he'll still beat her. As shown with Obi-Wan and Anakin, power alone won't win a battle if your opponent is smart enough to simply outwit you. Obi-Wan can beat Anakin, and Baylan can beat Ahsoka. Ahsoka can be an extremely powerful Force user and still not be able to beat someone with better training than her.

I'll also note at the end here that Ahsoka isn't even canonically a Jedi at this point. She's never once claimed to be in the Ahsoka show and she explicitly says she isn't one in Rebels. She makes comments about how there's more to being a Jedi than using a lightsaber, but that isn't confirmation that she CONSIDERS herself a Jedi or that she'd call herself a Jedi. So she can't be the most powerful Jedi if she's not a Jedi at all. Same goes for Baylan, Grogu, and Leia.

Which leaves us back at Luke as the most powerful Jedi in existence within the timeline of the Ahsoka show because out of all of our options, Luke is the single person alive willing to actually identify as a fucking Jedi.

[moonchild-in-blue]

Vessel and the New Lore

So the new messages got me thinking and connecting dots. I don't know coherent this will sound, but I think there's something here? Anyways. Something about the relationship Vessel has with himself vs. The Mask.

I thought it'd be interesting to link the parallels between the Room Bellow show and the Fall For Me video messages, with the new ones and the album. Long post ahead so I'll put a cut somewhere.

(This is the second time I'll be writing this cus tumblr decided to be a hoe and deleted my entire draft so if it seems weird, you know. Pro tip: never use the app for long posts.)

Disclaimer: I'm in no way endorsing or encouraging any type of discourse about Vessel's irl identity and/or other [Redacted] and such. Unfortunately I do know things, but not everyone does. Respect the band; don't spoil it for others. If you know, keep it to yourself.

So, starting with the first message:

Mask: Why am I here? What is my purpose in all of this? Vessel: Your purpose is twofold. You protect me, from them, and you also protect them from me. Mask: How is it that I serve to protect anyone from anything, that makes no sense. Vessel: In order for all of this to work there has to be a certain boundary in place. They need to be able to project themselves onto this, without anyone else's identity getting in the way. In turn, I need to be able to show my true self to them in a way that does not compromise their ability to connect. Mask: So that's what I am? A boundary? Vessel: Yes.

We have here a confirmation of what he has told us many times before, either indirectly or not. The Mask/the Vessel persona serves as a way for him to connect and engage with us, while keeping both parties safe. We get to project onto and take from him some sort of comfort and catharsis, without any external factors to influence and skew the way we interpret his music, and He gets to expose and deal with his pain and negative thoughts in a protected environment. Who he is is irrelevant, we're merely here to share and understand each other.

Through the anonymity the mask offers, he is free to be as vulnerable and open with us as he wants, while keeping his identity safely stored away. The Mask serves as the physical reminder of how much we are allowed to know about him, and in return, how far he can (or should) expose himself without compromising his true identity. By living as Vessel and forgetting himself, he is ironically free to bare his most fragile and imperfect parts of himself on display (much like how we're all infinitely more honest about our struggles behind a fake online name than in irl.)

(curiously, this seems to be a contradiction to Higher's second verse, which feeds into the idea that Sleep is not the protector Vessel sometimes claims Them to be - "With all that you believe / You still refuse to shelter me")

From the Room Bellow:

"I experienced a great deal of pain in my life, however I do not believe I have suffered as you have suffered. Perhaps that Is another reason why we are here. At the very least, we have all suffered."

Lore wise, we are told time and time again that Vessel is a "sacred guardian", a messenger, a weapon, a tool - a physical vessel - for Sleep and Their message. He is the answer to Sleep's necessity for connection with us. And for that to work, he willingly gives up his identity for Sleep. For us.

Mask: I don't believe you. I believe there is more to it than that. I believe you are afraid of something. Vessel: We are all afraid of something, are we not? Mask: What is it you are so afraid they will see? Vessel: That I am exactly like everyone else. ... Vessel: I think I am afraid of becoming you. Mask: What does that even mean? Vessel: My life is becoming gradually consumed by you. Before long, all that I am will be contained within you. Then, one day, when I no longer wish to wear you, there will be nothing else left.

"I am afraid, are you afraid? I want to understand what it is to let go." (Fall For Me)

At the end of the day, Vessel is just some guy - he fears, and aches, and bleeds the same as us. We're equals. But as Vessel, he can't allow himself to crack, to break the illusion. As Vessel (and to connect to the lore, as the vessel of a god), he poses as someone we can look up to, someone who's there to carry our pain for us, almost like a symbiotic relationship of sorts - we feed on each other's emotions and energies.

From the Room Bellow:

"To love oneself is not the easy task we are sometimes told it is. (...) My own path towards greater self acceptance is paved with the art that I create. It is a path I continue to stumble down at the expense of everything else."

Without getting too much into it, it seems Vessel/Sleep Token were created as a sort of coping mechanism to deal with whatever it is that He went through. And he seems to have achieved that - he escaped his former self and became "Vessel", someone who's allowed to cry and rage and let his feeling loose. Someone who receives praise and comfort for it, someone who is finally understood.

Except that somehow, that same safety the Mask offered him backfired. Because how can you tell what's you and what's not? It appears that the lines between Vessel vs. Him have blurred beyond recognition. Because "Nothing lasts forever", so once ST ends, and Vessel is no longer a necessity, who does he become? Can he go back to his old self? Is there even a self to go back to?

Do you ever believe that we can turn into different people? It's getting harder to be myself. Do you wish that you loved me? Could we ever release? Is it better to just not feel?

I think it's worth mentioning DYWTYLM. Usually when I listen to it, I just interpret as being about self-love/esteem, suicidal thoughts, insecurities, yada yada yada, BUT! I think it kinda fits this right?? Like a conversation between Vessel and Him, the guy behind the mask.

And really, if you think about it, I think this dialogue is the basis of what TMBTE is. It's Vessel facing all these different facets of himself, the past versions, the ugly sides, coming to terms with them and learning to move on. And in the end, we see he finally does realize, albeit somewhat reluctantly, that there is more to it, than he can "be someone new", even if it means he needs to shed and let go of past versions of himself.

(of course, this is putting aside the whole trilogy and the story we've been told about Sleep/Vessel/Whatever romantic entanglement he was involved in. i'm merely giving this some other meaning and choosing to look through a very specific lens. call it a parallel universe if you want)

It's him accepting that although there may not be a version of himself to come back to, his Eden so to speak, there is finally something more waiting for him. But I'll get more into it later.

Also worth mentioning, this part of conversation-

Mask : Do you think they want you to cry? Do you think they like it? Vessel : Not as such, I think they just want to know that I am feeling something, feeling what they are feeling, perhaps. Mask : Do you think that this amount of crying is healthy for you? Vessel: I don't know. But at least I feel something, if I don't feel anything than why would I even do this?

-seems to be directly co-related to those lines on DYWTYLM. He wonders if maybe would be better not to feel at all, as if really asking himself, "should I continue to live as Vessel?", because that is his/The Mask's function.

(I almost forgot to mention the "Smile back at me" / "I can only ever see them smiling. That's good, I want them to smile." co-relations, but you see where I'm going right?")

Mask: It seems you have forgotten who you are. Before you had me you were nothing. All of this artifice, all this pathetic conjecture about your identity, it is nothing but a manifestation of how short-sighted and solipsistic you have become. I lifted you from misery and obscurity. You would be better to become me. You are nothing without me. You always were nothing without me.

"I am nothing without this music. I am nothing without this mask." (Room Bellow)

Sleep is a dickhead. And there it is - another confirmation of what we all assumed, of what he has also told us many times before in different words. Vessel, or better yet, Him, struggles with imposter syndrome, and a part of him seems to believe his worth is exclusively tied to his ability to create music and perform. Because who matters is Vessel, not Him. The praise and adoration, the glory, belongs to solely Vessel (in-lore, to Sleep).

He does not matter. He is insignificant. He is nothing.

So it makes sense to see how much he wishes to be someone else. How dependent he on his Mask (on Sleep). He can't shed that new identity away, because somehow, it became is ONLY identity. And yet, he knows that one day that must happen. And from a creative/artist standpoint, when you expose yourself the way he does into your art, almost bleeding into it, if that outlet is taken away, you really are left with nothing.

(yall, read the poem "about the PEN conference" by Bukowski).

"The truth is, I am ugly, I am inadequate, I am lost. I am no God." (Fall For Me)

And can I just say, how incredibly heartbreaking it is to hear him talk about himself like that? I have so, so much love and respect for Ves, it's almost ridiculous to think he is only worth the weight of his mask. I would give him a million hugs if I could. Whether or not he still believes that, I hope he one day can look at himself the way we do, and be proud and happy of the amazing human that he is.

I also think that, and this is just me rambling, their sudden explosion to fame must've taken some sort of toll of sorts. It must be SUCH an amazing feeling to see this many people connect and dedicate themselves to something you created, to be able to read between the lines of you thoughts, but it must just equally as scary. Suddenly there's SO many eyes on you, demanding and picking apart every gesture. Viciously clawing at the mask for a glimpse of the fragile soul within. It must not be easy to cope - and this goes to everyone in Sleep Token. They have to deal with so much unfairness, it's disgusting.

Vessel: You. Are. Wrong. In the end, my fractured sense of self was only another piece of fuel for the fire that burns in the eyes of these people before us. They too are pained. They too not know who they truly are. They are each stood alone on a stage of their own. And yet, they are here. United by that sense of never truly belonging. They see something beyond their own bleak horizons. And they reach for it. Together. So let us join now. To reflect their joy and to serve as a conduit for their anguish. To swallow their fear. To Worship.

"So for now let me serve as a living drama of your pain. If we are to be submerged then let us be submerged together." (Fall For Me)

And this is the part that really breaks me. He knows how much we need this, how much we rely on his music, on his words. He fights against his own claims that he has no value - he serves a purpose and that purpose is to serve the audience. Us. To take our struggles, our desires, and make it his own. To basically serve as a sacrifice for our well-being. To suffer, to feel together. To serve as a living drama of OUR pain.

"I will smile through the agony for you".

Because in the end, we're all equally broken. Because that's what the Mask is for, the anonymity, the mystery, the band - for us to "project ourselves" onto him, onto them. They are vessels, servants, worshippers of a god who shelters them; much like how we interact with their music, much like how Vessel thinks his purpose is for.

(and I could expand on this weird worshipper vs worshipee cycle, but i'm tired and i can't ramble on for too long. someone more clever than me feel free to expand)

(a post edit: peep that "fire that burns in the eyes of these people before us" vs "those eyes like fire, I'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre" parallel. Vessel sacrificing himself to us, for us. Performing and being Vessel as something he cannot but feel compelled to do.)

From the Room Bellow:

"We are here to silently collect. To project ourselves onto one-another. We are here to remember. We are here to forget."

WHICH BRINGS US TO EUCLID.

No, by now The night belongs to you This bough has broken through I must be someone new

If we are to take the messages as a complement to the album, then this definitely marks the "shift" in Vessel's perspective. He CAN be more, and he NEEDS to be more. To be new.

The night does not belong to god - it belongs to US. To Him. Not just Vessel, but Him. Obviously this is all speculation, but it really feels like he's ready to let go of so many things, and move on. To renew himself, to stand up and fight. To finally "bite back". He doesn't seem to be completely changed, as there are things he still seems to hold on to (just listen to Euclid). But it´s different now. The "vicious cycle is over."

"They see something beyond their own bleak horizons. And they reach for it. Together. So let us join now."

Vessel seems to emphasize the "collectiveness" of what Sleep Token is and represents quite often. So in a way, it´s him saying "We´ve all suffered together, we've all experienced so many things together, so let us reach for something better as one. Let us all become new. You are not alone in this, and neither am I, so hold on to us and be happy."

WHICH IS!!!!! JUST!!!!!

I think this shift represents something important. My guess, like many others have said, is that Something Big is going to happen in/after Wembley. I don't know what, I don't know if it's truly the end of the road for ST, as many speculate, but something is definitely going to happen. Whatever it is, I hope this is a positive change for them, and specially Vessel, and I am just so so grateful to be part of this amazing community of ours.

(if you read the whole thing, I love you and thank you and I'm sorry. My brain was itching real bad and this had to be let out. Don't take this a proper analysis or whatever, this is me squeezing excess water off the old rag that is my mind)

[strangesthirdeye]

Listen Before I Go (SH x Fem! Reader)

Summary: A quick call won't hurt, right?

Warning: It's Sherlock everyone like him..heavy angst? Attempt Suicide, mental breakdown, mental health, You are loved by people, don't do that. You need a hug, pleading, high ceiling, hanging rope, almost suffocating. The Empty Hearse episode.

As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

One more loop and the knots are strong enough to support your weight. You sighed heavily. The creaking sound of the chair under your feet is heard when you make some motions on it. You look around your living room. Everything is scattered and unmanaged. Papers and books on the floor not to mentioned chairs are scattered around the living room, just like your wooden table.

you exhaled a heavy breath and looked up to see the noose hanging from the ceiling of your house. Well, here it is. After running around in your own mind and going through all the painful and stressful things in the real world, you are finally lost. Those things successfully kick your ass. Not to mention what happened to Sherlock two years ago. He committed suicide and claimed he was a liar, but that was not true. Why did he do that makes it a question mark for you, John, Mrs Hudson, Greg, Molly and Lestrade. Mycroft? hmm, he's just quiet. There was no news from him after that.

As if he has disappeared from existence.

Every dark plagued plays in your mind. All those rude people who curse Sherlock and proudly claim that Sherlock is a fraud. Not to mention those people have started bothering Sherlock's friends including you as his girlfriend. Those people don't know the meaning of grief.

You then look down. This is high enough. As long as your feet do not touch the floor is enough. Suffocate is not the first thing in your mind but because you don't want to commit suicide dirty with blood, you immediately decide to hang yourself. At least your life is taken slowly and in that time you can see all the happy memories at the end of your time.

You stand on your tiptoes and stick your head into the noose. The noose gently ends around your neck. Your hands started to tighten the noose around your neck so that it would be tight and not come loose when you hung it later. You sighed for the second time.

You are not afraid but nervous. Well, at least you know what your destiny is. You then close your eyes and your legs are ready to push the chair. All of the sudden, your phone rang in your pants pocket. You were shocked and almost pushed the chair under you but luckily the chair didn't slip.

You fish out your pocket and take your phone out of your pocket. You gulped your saliva slowly when you saw the contact on your phone.

John.

You immediately slide accept and open the speaker.

"Y/n"

"Hey, John"

"Where are you now? I need to tell you something.. Might be a surprise from me to you... I guess" John chuckled a little. Following with his hype tone means that John is in a good mood. Good. You're going to ruin his mood if you tell him what you're up to.

"what is it that you want to tell me? Is it Mary tho?" You pretend to hype your voice just to hide your crack tone.

"Well, I prefer to tell you at a cafe around your house only if you're not busy" John reasoned.

"well, i can't go out now.. can you just tell me on the phone instead? i kind of not really having a mood to go out anymore" You bit your lip slightly.

John was silent for a moment. You can imagine his confused face in your mind. Classic John. Gonna miss him.

"Are you alright?" John asked.

"mhmm.. I'm always alright" You replied.

"really? cuz' that's not how your 'alright' voice sounds like" John said suspiciously. "is it about Sherlock again?" John added.

Dammit. Why does he have to be the one who is always right? You are silent.

"It's been two years, Y/n. You have to let go that 'feeling'. It's not good for you" John said as if a father was advising his children to be useful human beings.

"you don't understand, aren't you? It's not easy. You have Mary.. while I don't have no one. No one to help me. Not even Mycroft. And I don't want to bring Mrs Hudson into this. She's already got a lot of plates in her hands." you paused you stand on your tiptoes.

"well, at least you don't have to deal with me anymore. I know what I'm doing now is a very useful thing. You don't have to worry about me." you added, the voice started to crack.

"What are you doing right now, Y/n. Don't you dare say that to me. I know exactly what you are trying to do. I'm coming" John's voice seemed to rush.

"tell me, John" you spoke up.

"what" John snapped trying to stop himself from yelling at you not to say negative things again.

"tell me what you want to say to me. That you expect me to be surprised" You closed your eyes. Tears streamed down your cheeks.

John let out a heavy breath. "I- oh god! this is not the situation I expected to tell you what it is. Taxi!" John yelled. John's voice then became muffled for a few moments before it became clear again. John then hurriedly told the cab driver your home address. Although the location is quite far from your house, John doesn't care about the fare. As long as he can save his other friend this time.

"just hold on. Don't end the call" John informed you firmly. John then sighed anxiously. "I-I plan to propose Mary tonight"

You smiled sadly. "is it going to be fancy? big?" you questioned him.

"fancy but simple.. oh gosh, why can't you just.. not doing all these things? You have many other things out there to go through! why now do you want to end it?" John is furiously rich.

"I think this is the end of my story. I've got nothing out there to go through. You have Mary. She's the one, John. Marry her. Make her half of your life. Have a family." You said lowly. your toes little by little push the chair under you.

"don't you dare say that. Think about it again. Sherlock doesn't want all this. He doesn't like any decision to end your life. He despises it. He wants you to move on and live a normal life. Normal life! Don't you want that? Find someone who can be with you for the rest of your life. Please.. I don't want to lose my best friend again" John begged.

Your line is quiet. Only the sound of the cab that John was riding in was heard. You look down. The hanging rope around the neck feels tight.

You know he's right but why don't you move away from the noose that is now resting on your neck? Sherlock doesn't like this. He despises it like John said earlier. Why then don't you open the rope and get off the chair? It's not going to work you know. Kill yourself. It's not.

Every thousand possibilities play in your mind as you hold the phone tightly in your hand. You bit your lips hard.

"I can't hold it anymore. The feeling of pain, grief and lost. It's not easy like what you say. It's just- Move on? no.. it's not working." you sobbed.

"No.." John paused. Probably is choosing and arranging the next sentence. "No, it's not easy. But, Sherlock wouldn't want that, right? So whatever you're doing now just drop it. Please. For the sake of Sherlock Holmes" John added in a tone of hope.

You paused and closed your eyes. Thumbs up on the screen. "I'm sorry, John" and you ended the call.

'just get on with it' whispered the demon in your ear. You choked on your own tears in your throat. You tossed your phone aside and stared for a moment then without hesitation you pushed the chair down so fast that it landed on the floor. But you don't fall, you float in the air with a hanging rope around your neck.

And there goes your oxygen is cut off quickly as you gasp for air while thrashing in the air. Both hands on the noose around your neck while your eyes darted around the living room. Mouth part away trying to get even a little oxygen. Your skin's colour is getting paler and your brain is in a state of shock when the oxygen is getting less and less to the brain.

You almost lost consciousness and then you see it. Life flashes before your eyes. Happy and sad memories. All in one. As the last piece of memories played in your eyes, you finally lost consciousness. Both your hands limp to the side while your head lolled forward. Your hair frames your pale face. But not before you hear the door of your house burst open by someone. Someone who you didn't get to see as your eyes are now tightly closed. Welcoming the feeling of a blanket of darkness.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eyes opened slowly as you gasped to take enough oxygen into your body system. Every thought plays in your mind. Why can't you just go in peace? Why do people have to bother you?

You look around the living room. Now you are lying on the floor. Eyes on the ceiling while your breath is still panting. Everything is hurt especially in your neck. You can still feel the texture of the hanging rope around your neck.

You curse whoever messed up your suicide attempt. It could be John but the taxi John took could not be able to get here quickly. So who? You glared at the person who was kneeling next to you but then as soon as your eyes landed on the silhouette, you widened your eyes.

there he is, a man who claims to be a sociopath and never believes in sentiment but then falls into the terms boyfriend and girlfriend. His brunette hair, his eyes, his cheek bones and his face are still the same but at the same time he looks a little mature. While his eyes hold emotions that are very heavy plus panic and concerned etched on his face.

Sherlock Holmes. The so called 'fraud' is now on your side.

"What were you thinking?!" Sherlock said loudly.

You are stunned. Sherlock then touched your shoulder and shook it a little trying to get you out of the trance.

Oh, God. What you think is a dream is actually not a dream but real. The feeling of him touching your shoulder and his deep raspy and smoky timbre makes you miss him so much. Your eyes start to glaze over with tears.

"Sherlock?" you whispered his name.

Sherlock looked at you with concern and tried to help you sit up. "what were you thinking? Suffocate yourself to death? why? just why?"

"because you died! For two years. I thought you were dead once your body hit the ground in front of the hospital. Two years, Sherlock. Two years. And you think I can live without you just like that?" you yelled while slapping him on the chest several times.

Sherlock deflected your blow by holding both of your wrists to his chest. He looked at you with sympathy. "I want to save you and the others. This is all I can do. Moriarty will do worse than what you don't expect that's why I have to do that. Two years I tried to take down his network and now I'm here. What you did earlier there was the most horrible thing for me. I don't want to come back home knowing that you are dead."

You thought for a moment. Your red eyes looked at Sherlock's face with realization on your face. And then you sniffed and leaned your head on his chest.

Sherlock then put his arms around you. His right hand was placed on the back of your head and stroked gently while his head was placed on top of your head.

"You saved me.. oh, how stupid I am to do that" you sobbed.

"no you're not stupid. Don't say that. You are the most brilliant and courageous woman I know. Your intelligent and kind attitude makes me adore and fond of you more.. listen, I don't always say this but you are the only reason I'm coming home. Please.. don't do that ever again" Sherlock said while kissing your hair.

"John will be here soon." you say. Your voice is muffled in his chest.

"let him. might as well make it a surprise for him." Sherlock joked trying to lighten up the mood.

You chuckled tearfully and then hugged Sherlock tightly. Sherlock smiled gently and tightened his arms and rocked you left and right with his eyes closed.