#the concept of platonic love lasting so long is something i deeply adore

[spectrumscribe]

and we keep on.

commissioned fic by @jointed-custody! some 2012 tmnt old donatello well down the line in his life, reminiscing about people he’s lost and the people he still has. 

sort of set in my Mecha Turtle fanfic universe, but generic enough to be read as a standalone.

Staring out across the wide lawn of the farmhouse, Donnie enjoys the momentary peace of his own company. In the dull heat of summer warmth, seeping through everything around him, the ache in his joints eases enough he can sigh softly, rotating his stiff ankles. Too many hours on his feet this week, and he’s far too old to be doing that.

Maybe if he were twenty years younger- heck, maybe even just ten, he’d be fine. But ninety years and some months is hard on a turtle, even a mutant one with enough knowledge to cure just about anything.

Can’t cure old age, though, much as he’s tried.

Cells break down, replication becomes flawed- bodies get old along with the mind, even if the soul remains strong and youthful. Donnie is no young soul, certainly not by this age, but he likes to think he’s still got some gutso in the tank, even if he can’t quite pull all-nighters anymore.

It doesn’t stop him from trying, as often as that results in him passing out at his desk. He’s scolded for doing that by nearly every person he’s close with, as if they have any room to talk.

Even if it’s not genetic, as Donnie has suspected for decades none of them are related that way- stubbornness is certainly a family trait. Stubbornness to admit defeat, stubbornness to take care of themselves properly. They’re all as equally bad as him, especially now days, with old age catching up with them and just how much they can do anymore shrinking down.

That doesn’t stop Donnie from doing his work, and it certainly hasn’t stopped any of his brothers or surviving friends. Hell, Raph is up in space at the moment, along with Casey, the nutball old men they are. Donnie at least has had the sense to stay on earth; his brother and friend are still out there in the wide open cosmic ocean, getting into who knows what kind of trouble. If they’re all lucky, Donnie won’t have to reattach any of Casey’s prosthetic limbs when he gets back, or recalibrate Raph’s implants, again.

Donnie might have become a bit of a homebody in his late years, but at least he’s one of the three members of his family that hasn’t had to replace a part of themselves to keep ticking along. Leo has the excuse of it being from their teen years, fixing that bum leg of his so he could still walk by himself; Raph and Casey are just reckless fools, even if they’re as wrinkly and liver spotted as Donnie is.

But Donnie thinks of the vastness of space, of the planets they all saw as teens, of the societies filled with people that barely even blinked at him and his brothers, years before earth accepted its mutant population as people and not monsters- of the adventures they had together, outside the race to find the black hole generator pieces before the Triceratons, where they bonded and laughed and were free, even just for a few hours- and he sighs, wistful and longing.

A part of Donnie admittedly wants to be up there, too. He’s old, sure, but he’s not so old he’s forgotten how it feels. The rush of adrenaline, the breathlessness of a fight- terror and exhilaration mixing together in a way that made him feel alive. His youthful years made him an unwilling adrenaline junkie, after repeated exposure to danger and adventure, and a part of him misses those years. The bizarrely mixed freedom and entrapment of being who he was in a society that just wasn’t ready for any of them.

It also was psychologically and emotionally scarring at times, not to mention so painfully isolated it left them all stunted and bent in important places that took years of therapy to even somewhat correct. The adrenaline rushes were great, yes, but the wars, the fighting, the losses… they’d just been kids; Donnie and his brothers and their friends. Dealing with all those things messed them up thoroughly, to the point Donnie still triple checks anyone’s background before letting them get anywhere close to his family.

They’d been heroes at times, been on top of the world and felt like gods- but they’d been so young, back then. So many enemies bearing down on them, so many fractures and wounds put between them by their own bad choices… it’s a wonder any of them lived past thirty, let alone nearly a hundred and still remained as tightly knit as they are.

A flock of birds passes overhead of the farmhouse’s porch, swooping in a swirling cloud of blue feathers. Donnie watches them with lazy attention, and hums to himself.

Tightly knit as they are now, it’s not to say they never had ups and downs. There were years in between the good ones and the great ones, where they hardly spoke at all. Even Mikey. Especially Mikey. There’d been a period of nearly five years where Mikey just… disappeared. No note, no hint of when he’d return. Just… gone, off into the universe with only his nunchucks.

That’d been triggered by Leatherhead’s passing, Donnie recalls with a soft pang of grief. Their first and most dependable mutant friend, and their second friend ever. Mikey’s best friend, even with the decades spent apart because of Dimension-X. Leatherhead had been old even while they were young adults; worn and scarred because of the war he’d fought on behalf of earth and them. When he’d finally passed… the old crocodile had gone quietly, lying down one day and never waking again.

Donnie remembers he and his family had been roughly in their late twenties at the time. That, as he recalls with a tired nostalgia, had been the worst of their budding recovery years.

After holding himself together through their father’s death, and the fracturing of their family following that… Donnie remembers seeing Mikey finally cracking somewhere. And that crack had spread through him, leaving Mikey veritable a spider’s web.

And so he’d run, from the loss, from the grief- from everything. Donnie still can feel the ache Mikey’s absence had left in all of them, even now. He’d very nearly lost his brother for good during those years, and Donnie… still doesn’t know if he’d have recovered from that.

Mikey had come back, of course, but Donnie knows it’d been hard for Mikey to do that. Out of all of them, Mikey has somehow always been the most dependant and yet independent member of their family. Dimension-X proved he could be on his own, as well as all the years he spent wandering; but the way he’d hugged them all upon returning proved he still very much needed his family, even if being in the city where they lost so many people hurt him deeply at times.

Donnie is lucky he’s never lost someone quite like Leatherhead. The people he’s closest to are still alive and healthy as anyone their age can be. Perhaps he should feel a deep stabbing grief for his father’s untimely death, like he knows Raph and Leo still sometimes do… but for whatever reason, Donnie doesn’t feel that.

Everyone Donnie loves is still here with him, spread out as they sometimes are. He’d never had the same relationship his elder brothers did with Splinter, and he’s old enough now to tell that’s likely why Splinter’s death didn’t gut him as much as it could of. Donnie misses his father, but not as much as he would miss any one of his brothers or friends, should they have been the ones who died.

Leo nearly died, years before Splinter actually did, and because of that Donnie knows for certain. His father’s MIA status during those months didn’t affect him nearly as much as Leo’s coma. In the end, it seems the people Donnie did and still does cherish most are his brothers, and the two humans who stuck with them through everything.

April and Casey. Donnie doesn’t know where he and his brothers would have ended up without them. Never mind all the times the two humans bailed Donnie’s family out of trouble at the last second- without April, it’s likely that the world wouldn’t be what it is now. If the Kraang had gotten a hold of April, used her for the terraforming invasion they’d planned… Donnie nearly shudders at the thought. Everyone would be dead or enslaved if they hadn’t rescued April that night, and if she hadn’t taken the hanging threat over her life and spat on it.

Really, if April O’Neil hadn’t been the woman she became, Donnie doesn’t doubt things could have gone so much worse.

He could’ve done without the possession and temporary death, though. That had been… less than enjoyable. Za’naron gave everyone nightmares for months afterwards, most of all Donnie and April. They’ve long since moved past that night, grown out of the strain it’d put on their relationship… but some nights it still comes to him, same as every trauma Donnie has ever been through. He knows April suffers the same way, however little she’s ever spoken about it.

They’re still close, regardless of any fissure put between them before. Regardless of the years their entire family ended up drifting apart, miring in their own griefs and regrets and wanderlust to do and see more than fighting… he and April are still dear friends. Living together, sharing their kitchen and workspace and living room, is proof of how dear they are to each other.

Maybe not how his younger self imagined, but… Donnie is more than content with that. That crush became genuine affection over time, and that genuine affection grew into steady, true love. Again, not the sort his teenage self ever thought would happen, but Donnie as an old and aging turtle likes it just fine. It’s the sort that lasts, that keeps on through decades. The sort that April shares with all of Donnie’s siblings, and Casey, too. The sort that brought them all back together, in the end, and has kept them closely linked ever since.

He’s old, and he’s sentimental, and that’s probably why he’s sitting on a porch by himself and thinking cheesy thoughts about his family when he could be working.

Still, it’s good to come back to this scene ever once in a while. Though it had at first been a place of grief and time spent waiting for miracles… the farmhouse became a staple to them all in years passed. It was the first place Donnie and his brothers could walk freely under the sun, and that’s not something any of them would ever forget in a hurry.

It’s a place his entire family can come back to, and be together like they used to. A place where the world seems distant and there is only warmth and long summer days to be had.

Donnie chuckles to himself. He really is getting old, thinking things like that.

His hearing might be going, too, seeing as a hand is gently laid on his shoulder, and he heard no footsteps approaching.

“I was wondering where you got off to,” says Donnie’s very first best friend, and he turns his head to look up at her.

April smiles, crinkling the few crow’s feet that line her eyes. “Your assistant told me you threw quite the fit at the board of directors today,” She smirks, just as amused as she always is when this happens. “Would you mind telling me why you’re skulking in here, while there are important meetings to be had?”

Donnie looks at his friend, and feels the surge of nostalgia that’s been sweeping him the past few minutes. April has nearly pure white hair now, wrinkles beautifully lining parts of her face. She’s old as he is, and yet…

Donnie knows some of it is makeup, to ease the suspicion that she isn’t quite human. Donnie knows he and his brothers have a few decades yet before their mutant bodies really begin to breakdown, but April?

April was designed to conquer worlds, and what scientist would build a weapon that truly aged?

He suspects April, who walks with a straight back and steely gaze even now, will be around to terrorize rival companies for a long while yet.

“I’m ninety, April,” Donnie says, smirking back at her. “I’m allowed to have moments of elderly madness.”

She rolls her eyes. “Would you mind avoiding tossing papers into employee’s faces? They’re high-strung as it is.”

“Hm, I’ll try my best, but no promises. Old men tend to forget things, you know.”

She swats him. Donnie laughs, giving in and rising from his seat. “Alright, I’ll go apologize to the plebeians. But if they make another try at getting me to retire, I’m firing someone.”

“Not before I do,” April says, clicking her tongue. “I’ve already had three of them this year encourage me to start looking for a proper heir. Money grubbing fiends.”

“Shall we show them we still got it, then?” Donnie offers, holding up an elbow.

“Agreed,” April says, taking the offered arm. The simulation of the farmhouse ends as they turn away from the summery scene, leaving a single bench where Donnie had been sitting.

Exiting the holo room in the experimental testing wing, his droves of personally picked scientists and engineers scurry out of their CEO’s way. April’s little heels click on the floor as they do, sharp clacks like whips as they stroll through the hallways. Her ninja skills haven’t dulled at all over the years, including the art of intimidation.

Donnie is content to simply be a looming and wizened figure, a tad on the scary side thanks to his scars and severe looks when he gets in a mood. Leave it to April to actively play up the intimidation factor.

She doesn’t really need to, being the most powerful known psychic in twenty galaxies, but Donnie supposes a ninety year old woman needs to get her kicks somehow.

They nod briefly at the people exiting the elevator as they get in, and Donnie hits the button for the middling upper levels. As the elevator ascends the height of O’Neil Technologies, Donnie feels a pleased little smile tugging at his lips.

Their teen and young adult years had been brutal, and the decades it’d taken to fully integrate mutant, alien, and human society together had been harsh. But now he’s standing in a polished elevator with his best friend and fellow CEO of the most powerful technology company in the world. His brothers and friends are all still alive and causing the chaos they always have.

Mikey, on the ground levels of New York, free to make any friends he pleases and wandering without a care in the world- Leo, off with Karai and Shinigami, tittering to themselves as Karai’s adopted daughter tries to run the Foot Clan with her uncle and mothers leaning over her shoulder and making comments on things- Raph, up in space and still a roughhousing curmudgeon, even with ocular implants he needs to see and old man bones- Casey, the only fully human member of their family, down half his original limbs and still insistent that he’s fit as he was at fifty and just as reckless as he’s always been about danger.

And April, at Donnie’s side, just as lovely and terrifying as she’d been at twenty, as the two of them continue to build and shape earth’s future with technological advancements, and strong-arming the government officials into not being power hungry idiots.

They’ve lost so much, and yet, gained plenty to make for that. And that is why Donnie can smile, and feel content with the life he’s lived, and will keep living.

Commission info & Kofi link.

[ladyartemesia]

TEASER: Kim Seokjin and the Mean Omega

Pairing: Nerd Alpha Kim Seokjin x Popular Omega Reader

Genre: A/B/O • Enemies to Lovers • (Sorta) College AU • Best Friend's Brother AU (Who is surprised? No one?)

Teaser Word Count: 3.6K

Teaser Warnings: A/B/O sexual dynamics • suggestive content

Rating: Explicit (18+) (Teaser is PG-13)

Summary: In the modern world, alphas are almost unheard of so why even bother learning about them? After all, as a spoiled (but reasonably kind-hearted) omega who is used to getting whatever she wants, you have better things to do. However, when unexpected circumstances throw you in the path of (extremely) nerdy and (probably?) shy Kim Seokjin, you're shocked to discover that he won't be wrapped around your little finger as easily as all the rest. Bringing that infuriating geek to his knees quickly becomes your personal mission in life... But it turns out that Kim Seokjin is not what he appears to be and the mean omega who eats beta boys for breakfast is about to get way more than she bargained for...

Author’s Note: This story would not be here without the love, support and friendship of my incredible support system. You talk with me, you laugh with me, you listen when I’m crying, and you read my chaotic drafts when I am ready to pull my hair out of my head in frustration. I love you all. @ppersonna @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen @lemonjoonah. ALSO thank you to each and every one of you who encouraged me to post this story. This fic is dedicated to all of you as a token of my love and appreciation. Your support keeps me writing. Never doubt that for a second.

“...due to discriminatory anti-alpha policies in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, alphas were nearly eliminated from the general population…”

You heaved a weary sigh and rolled your shoulders—stretching the buttons of your high-end Oxford shirt to their limit. The beta sophomore to your right whined audibly and you smirked.

“...despite efforts to restore the genetic balance of designations, alphas currently comprise less than one percent of the population…”

Your back arched slightly as you crossed your legs, letting the absurdly short hem of your skirt ride up even higher. The poor boy you were tormenting shifted miserably in his seat.

How was he supposed to focus on a Human Biology and Designation Studies lecture when the living breathing embodiment of every sweaty undergrad’s fantasies was twisting her fingers in her hair and wrapping her pretty pink tongue around a strawberry lollipop right there in the middle of class?

“...unlike betas and omegas, alphas possess enhanced strength and the ability to compel other designations with their voice. Unmated alphas especially were often baselessly feared and distrusted...”

You knew exactly how you affected boys like him. You were a shameless tease who relished their attention and the power it brought you. Who needed drugs when driving a man mad with desire was a rush more potent than any high?

“...and that’s all for today so please read pages 450-466 in the text over break and remember to turn in your essay on scent and consent in intimacy—”

That poor sophomore looked like he had finally worked up the courage to speak to you, but you were already out the door and tearing down the hall toward your beautiful (and entirely platonic) counterpart, Kim Taehyung.

“Do you think Professor Moore is unaware that class is over at 3:25 or is he just torturing us for science?”

Taehyung shrugged, falling into step beside you with practiced ease.

“I mean I would torture you for free so it’s hard to say.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up at his characteristic dry humor, but the irritation at being held in that sweltering lecture hall for an extra ten minutes had frayed your temper.

“It’s the last class before spring break, I’m sure he was on some sort of twisted power trip.” You dug around in your purse for some chapstick, ignoring Tae’s amused snorting, “Alphas barely exist anymore and none of us are likely to meet one. Why bother learning what they can do?”

Taehyung tilted his head in amusement.

“You might be surprised.”

The final party before the beginning of spring break was always a laid back affair.

Many people had already caught planes to their various destinations, but your flight was scheduled for early tomorrow morning—leaving you with some time to kill.

Taehyung pressed his newest experimental concoction into your hand within minutes of entering the house (a surprisingly neat bachelor pad owned by two seniors, Jung Hoseok and Min Yoongi) and then darted back to the kitchen to craft more questionable alcohol potions like a deranged party warlock.

You had just found a comfortable place on the couch and were contemplating whether sampling your best friend’s mad scientist elixir would be worth the probable damage to your body when—

“H-Hello...”

It was that sophomore from your Designations Studies class. What was his name again? Jungwoo? Jinwook?

“Jungkook,” you smiled, delighted to have remembered before it became awkward. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You motioned to the empty cushion next to you and the man in question scrambled over like he’d won the lottery.

“I—I know we don’t know each other well, but I noticed you were absent during Professor Moore’s lecture on intimacy and scent consent so I—” he blushed deeply, “I wrote the essay for you—and I brought a copy on my flash drive if-if you want it.”

Your heart melted immediately.

“Oh my gosh Jungkook, that is so sweet of you!”

Your gaze darted over his muscular form and thick brown curls.

Sweet indeed.

“I don’t want to miss out on the learning though,” you pouted, placing a hand on his tattooed bicep. “Can you explain it to me?”

Jungkook nodded vigorously even as his wide eyes fell to where your fingers were sliding slowly over his chest.

Scent consent was a pretty basic and universally known concept, but you really were touched by the handsome sophomore's consideration.

Why not give him (and yourself) a little reward?

“Um so basically if two people are involved in...intimate activities—”

You leaned forward to nip his ear lightly and he whimpered.

“Like this?” you asked innocently.

“Y-Yes. Like that.” He gulped. “In an intimate situation consent or refusal can be smelled. The scent of refusal or reluctance in intimacy is strong, unmistakable, and has a high chemical potency.”

“Is that so?” you drawled, sliding over onto his lap. Jungkook’s eyes rolled back into his head and you bit back a grin.

He was adorable.

“Uh-huh—it—oh my gawd,” (you were nibbling on his ear again) “it can immediately block sexual arousal and performance in the other partner. Meaning, if consent is not present, then it becomes difficult or—ahh” (his voice began to waver under your continued attention) “—or even impossible to continue with intimate acts.”

Your hand slid up to his cheek, bringing him closer till your lips were almost touching.

“Then what does it mean if I’m still so turned on right now?”

“It means,” Jungkook shuddered—nearly delirious with your scent, “that I really really want you.”

Across the room, Park Jimin chuckled as he watched you seduce his enthusiastic friend.

Jeon Jungkook was such a sweet kid.

Hopefully he wouldn’t get too attached.

“Wow... Some people are genuinely born blessed I suppose.”

Jimin turned to see Jung Hoseok eyeing the dimly lit corner where you and the eager young sophomore were exploring each other.

It was a rather...provocative spectacle. Not quite raunchy (you weren’t truly an exhibitionist)—just insanely sexy.

Jimin’s gaze lingered on the smooth curve of your thigh where Jeon Jungkook was currently holding on for dear life.

Lucky bastard.

“Ah you know how she is,” he sighed. “That boy isn’t going to get any farther than anyone else.”

It was relatively common knowledge that you liked to mess around but rarely—if ever— fully hooked up with anyone.

Jimin asked you about it once during a drunken game of truth or dare and you had just shrugged, mumbling something along the lines of avoiding STDs (which—to be fair—was at least part of your motivation), but the truth was a little more complicated than that.

In terms of experience, you weren’t a virgin, but... you hadn’t actually had sex in years.

You loved the chase, the foreplay, the build-up—the game of cat-and-mouse between two people who were attracted to one another.

But the final consummation was always so…

Wildly unfulfilling.

Every encounter left you frustrated. Empty.

Grumpy—even.

So you stopped bothering with it all together. (That was what sex toys were for after all.)

At the end of the day you were perfectly content being labeled a tease—it meant that people tended to know what they were (or rather weren’t) getting into when they rolled the dice with you.

Besides…it hadn’t even put a dent in your throng of admirers.

You were sunny, spoiled, indulgent, almost universally adored—

And you loved every minute of it.

“You know…” Hoseok took a long sip of his drink. “I always thought she would end up with Taehyung, but it’s been three years.”

Like you, Kim Taehyung was a trust fund brat and it was only natural that two beautiful and absurdly privileged people would gravitate to one another. You met at a freshman pledge party and had been an inseparable (and formidable) dynamic duo ever since.

The undisputed king and queen of campus.

Yes—maybe the two of you were a little self-absorbed at times, but it was hardly your fault that people tended to instinctively cater to the force of your combined looks, wealth, and charisma.

And it didn’t hurt that neither of you were ever intentionally cruel or unkind.

Just... habitually thoughtless.

(Though not when it came to each other. If anything your friendship was one area where you were both a little more human.)

Jimin shook his head.

“Nah that’s never gonna happen.” He tapped his nose. “They’re scent-crossed.”

Hoseok’s eyes widened.

“Really?”

Scent-crossed pairs didn’t smell sexually attractive to each other.

Like. At all.

No matter how physically or visually appealing an individual might be, it would be near impossible to form a sexual or romantic attachment to them if you were scent-crossed. Alphas, betas, and omegas were all subject to their noses first and foremost in the realm of attraction.

You and Taehyung smelled like comfort and home to one another...

But you were more turned on by a crisp cup of apple juice than you were his scent and the feeling was quite mutual.

He might as well have been your actual brother.

“That explains so much.” Hoseok snorted as he watched a drunken Taehyung do a flying leap on top of both you and Jungkook.

“Why is sunlight so offensive?” you croaked, dragging yourself and your luggage toward the boarding ramp next to an equally miserable Taehyung.

“The next time I book a flight before 9 AM, please shoot me,” he grunted.

Your parents were celebrating their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary with a month-long European cruise so your best friend had graciously invited you to spend two glorious weeks of spring vacation at his family estate.

The invitation had actually come as somewhat of a surprise because—for all your closeness—Taehyung was uncharacteristically tight-lipped about his family.

Not that he was deliberately withholding information per se… It was just that he never really brought them up beyond an occasional passing comment.

The one time you did ask him about them directly he sighed and said—

“We’re very close, but… I suppose we’ve just gotten used to being very private.”

There was clearly more to the story, but you were confident that Tae would share it if and when he was ready.

“My parents are in Seoul opening a new branch of the company. They took my little sister with them and my older brother has his own house so it will be just us.” He snuggled deeper into the first class seat directly next to yours. “We’ll hang out by the pool and chill during the day, then hit up some of the new clubs or whatever at night.”

“So… No one from your family will be there?”

Perhaps the invitation was not so surprising after all.

“Nope. Just you and me and thirty acres of ocean front property.”

You grinned.

“Perfect.”

“Whose room is that?”

The two of you were lugging your bags down the main hall of Taehyung’s expansive mansion when a strange hint of...something caught you right by the nose.

Your friend turned to find you frozen and staring curiously at a familiar door near the balcony.

His eyes widened, but you were too preoccupied to notice his momentary concern.

“That’s just Jin’s room.”

A firm hand wrapped around your wrist and dragged you away, but your eyes stayed glued to the source of the mysterious scent until you were around the corner and out of sight.

Your suite for the next two weeks was right across the hall from Taehyung’s. There was a whirlpool, a full bath, a balcony, and an ocean view that would rival the cover spread of any travel magazine.

Tae headed for the shower (to ‘wash the airplane off’) immediately after showing you the room and you were thinking of doing the same except…

Your mind kept going back to that door and the hint of scent you detected.

There was something… different about it.

It was faint—and far from fresh (which made sense considering that one of the few things you did know about Kim Seokjin was that he hadn’t lived in this house for years).

But still…

The need to smell it again pressed insistently at the back of your mind.

Suddenly the sound of Taehyung singing raunchy lyrics in the shower carried over through the walls and you found your feet moving almost of their own accord.

What Tae doesn’t know won’t hurt him, you rationalized, making your way down the hall toward Jin’s door. Besides—it’s not as if I’m going to steal anything…

You just needed to find that scent again.

By the time your fingers closed over the knob every one of your nerves was strangely—acutely—alert but nothing could have prepared you for what was waiting behind the door.

Oh. My. Gosh.

“What a colossal nerd.”

The room was covered floor to ceiling in Nintendo memorabilia.

Bright primary colors assaulted your eyes from all directions in the form of action figures, posters, pillows, and every other conceivable merch variety known to man.

In the center of the suite stood a large king-sized bed covered in a custom black couture toile-style Mario-verse bed set (that looked every bit as expensive as it was geeky) and a mountain of high quality Nintendo character plush toys.

Everything was simultaneously luxe and nostalgic—a rare combination of sophisticated aesthetic balance and childlike indulgence.

And the scent was there.

It was faint and covered under layers of cleaner and air fresheners, but still lingering just below the surface—too weak for you to get a really good whiff, yet potent enough to torment you.

You moved forward unconsciously toward the strongest source of the hypnotic smell—the strangely inviting expanse of Kim Seokjin’s mattress.

Suddenly the urge to climb—no crawl—across the bed itself and roll around in it like a kitten in catnip gripped you out of nowhere.

“What the hell?” you muttered, rubbing absently over the mating gland at the base of your neck.

Something very odd was going on with your body.

Your restless gaze zeroed in on one of the stuffed toys piled atop his pillows. It was a cute little mushroom man your brain recognized as a Mario character named ‘Toad’.

Take it.

Your mouth dropped open in shock.

You need it.

“Am I going insane?” you wondered aloud.

You have to take it.

Muscles in your hand began to twitch involuntarily. You bit your lip.

Bring it back with you.

Several minutes later a freshly washed Taehyung wandered over to your room and found you sitting perfectly still on your bed while staring off into space.

His head tilted in curious concern.

“Everything ok?”

You started a bit at the sound of his voice, but recovered quickly.

“Never better!” you chirped—almost too brightly. “Let’s go get some dinner, I’m starving.”

Then you grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall toward the kitchen—shutting the door before he could catch a glimpse of his brother’s stuffed Toad doll stashed underneath your pillow

“...a critical water main rupture in the city’s New Market district early this morning has forced several residents out of their homes as flood water swelled up to nearly two feet. The governor declared a state of emergency and ordered hotels around the city to accommodate the displaced citizens. Crews are still clearing the water and assessing damages. We expect—

“Hey!” you shouted through a mouthful of cereal, after Your best friend switched off the television, “I was watching that!”

“And what you should be doing is getting ready for the pool.” Tae snatched your cereal bowl and dragged you by your shirt collar toward the stairs. “It is the first morning of our vacation. I’m not trying to waste any time. Now go.” He shoved you forward, smacking your ass for good measure.

You swatted back at him half-heartedly as jogged back up to the room where you enjoyed a surprisingly restful sleep last night.

Kim Seokjin’s door glared at you accusingly as you shuffled past—unable to let you forget that you had kidnapped it’s little mushroom man in an unexplained fit of kleptomania, but that was a problem for your future self.

The you of right now was going to zen out in the Kim family's premium glass-enclosed indoor pool (it was still a little chilly for the outdoor pool) with her best friend and bask in the simple joys of good company and no responsibility.

...Or not.

A few minutes later you bounced into the living room wearing a simple black tankini with a cute floral cover only to find Taehyung on the phone with his head in his hands.

“Yes, sir. I understand… I...I know this is my responsibility...”

That didn’t sound good.

After a few more tense moments, Tae hung up and collapsed backward into the couch with a heavy sigh.

“That water main break you heard about on TV this morning was the last straw between the province and its current contractor. They called an emergency meeting for new bids.”

Your heart dropped as you sank down beside him.

“Your dad wants you to go...doesn’t he.”

Taehyung nodded miserably.

“He can’t leave the Seoul opening on such short notice and managing government construction contracts is part of what I’ve been training for. This could be huge for our company.”

“Well...why doesn’t your brother go?”

“Jin is the brains behind most of our patented gaming and tech innovations. He wouldn’t even know where to begin with this sort of thing. Besides,” his lips quirked up in a rueful grin, “my brother doesn’t have the patience to stroke entitled geriatric egos for hours on end—which is likely what I’m going to have to do.”

The two of you headed back to Taehyung’s room where you helped him pack some suits and toiletries for his trip.

Naturally you were disappointed but...this was a great opportunity for your best friend to prove himself in his chosen field and you both knew it. In fact, he was already starting to brighten a bit.

“The meeting is about a hundred miles north of here. My dad’s secretary already handled the flight and hotel room.” His eyes darted around the suite to see if he was forgetting anything.

It was clear he was nervous, though you were sure he didn’t need to be. Kim Taehyung was a trust fund brat, but he was also talented and deeply passionate about his family’s company.

Someday this would be the norm. The two of you were stealing time in college, determined to live a little before the expectations of your powerful families transferred fully onto your shoulders.

It was becoming more and more clear, however, that your carefree time was slowly running out.

Mother had already spoken to you about potential marriage alliances and your father expected you to intern with his Vice President this summer just as your elder sister had...

Taehyung’s voice suddenly interrupted your bittersweet introspection and you couldn’t help but smile at how grown-up he looked in his suit and briefcase ensemble.

Everything was going to change, but not quite yet.

“They estimate negotiations should take around a week or so…” He walked over and pulled you into a tight hug. “There should still be some vacation left for us when I get back.”

“Hurry back then,” you mumbled grumpily into his chest and he chuckled.

“I will.”

Taehyung had been gone for less than twenty minutes when you decided that the best use of your time would be to eat more snacks.

The last thing you expected when you skipped merrily into the kitchen was to find it occupied by a shaggy-haired homeless man in glasses.

Your first instinct was to scream which caused the homeless man to drop the apple he was biting right onto the floor where it rolled around for a small eternity before coming to rest at his ankles.

Your second instinct was to grab a butcher’s cleaver from the nearby knife block and wave it chaotically at the intruder while shouting something along the lines of—

“You’ve made a huge mistake! My boyfriend is the biggest, meanest mafia boss in Seoul! Leave now and he might let you live!”

The homeless man continued to stare at you with a mixture of confusion and shock, but made no move to run away in terror like you were hoping.

So you tried again.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?! The last man who touched me drinks his steak through a straw now! Do the smart thing and leave before my boyfriend comes down those stairs and it’s too late!”

Infuriatingly, the homeless man was still not fleeing for his life and frankly you were starting to get frustrated. You drew in a deep cleansing breath and were prepared to issue another grandiose threat when he finally spoke.

“I’m sorry, miss. I... think there’s been some sort of mistake. Who is your boyfriend?”

There was no rational explanation for what came out of your mouth next, but it rolled off your tongue so smoothly and you didn’t even flinch.

“Kim Seokjin.”

For the first time in your entire exchange, the intruder looked truly alarmed.

Now that’s more like it.

“You’ve heard of him I see. He’s a dangerous man and my body belongs to him.” You slammed the cleaver down onto the countertop with a (hopefully) menacing slash. “Kim Seokjin doesn’t like when other men put their hands on what belongs to him.”

There was a long, unpardonably tense moment of silence…Then the stranger slowly reached forward and picked up a mobile phone from the table in front of him.

His eyes remained locked with yours as he pressed a quick series of buttons, brought the phone to his ear, waited a few seconds and said—

“Taehyung… Would you mind telling me why there is a half-naked, knife-wielding omega in our kitchen claiming to be my girlfriend?”

Hello! Please comment on this post if you would like to be added to the taglist!

You guys were all so wonderful, and encouraging, and excited that I literally got this teaser out in three days! If you like what you read so far, please let me know! I cannot put into words how meaningful and valuable feedback is to me. I truly treasure it! It fuels my creativity and keeps me writing. I would love to hear from you!

[hacked-wtsdz]

Rating Star Wars ships from least to most favourite:

9. Obitine

I never cared much for Satine, though I still like their moments. They seem like such a soft ship, and Satine is also one of Obi-Wan’s weak spots, he was ready to leave the order for her, which is impressive for a man that is so dedicated to it. They are a bit like Anidala, but Satine and Obi-Wan aren’t as reckless and chaotic as Anakin and Padme.

8. Skyjade

Ok, I have to admit that I’ve never actually read anything about them, but just the concept itself looks incredibly cool to me. Cause it’s a really long enemies to lovers in Star Wars (I’m not a huge fan of the trope but in this situation — Jedi vs Sith….) Also in my mind Mara Jade is the Star Wars version of Black Widow, just cooler, and it makes this concept (pure, light Luke and mysterious Mara) beautiful.

7. Maulsoka

I don’t like any Ahsoka ships (Rexsoka, Luxsoka, Anisoka😖) but Maulsoka has potential imo. They are both cool, incredibly well-developed characters that used to have an exact definition (Jedi and Sith), but then walked away from it because of a betrayal. They mirror each other in some way. Also the way Maul says “Lady Tano”, and their fight, and the way they went from enemies to neutrals, it’s all fantastic. The more I think about it, the more I like it.

6. Rebelcaptain

I am deeply in love with everything about Rogue One but I’m more into the platonic relationships in it than the romantic ones. Rebelcaptain is still very beautiful and very sad. I like that it’s not exactly canonical cause it never actually happened, but everybody still knows that it is. In the end they hug instead of kissing (because they have stronger connections than simple romance) Did the director want movie theatres to be flooded or what

5. Hanqi’ra

Gosh, Solo was amazing! And Qi’ra is terribly underrated, I wish Disney made a show about her too. I loved her character and her relationship with a more hopeful, optimistic Han than the one we see in the ot. Yes, she leaves him in the end, and takes a part of him with himself, but a part of her stays with Han forever too. It’s a passionate, hopeless love story that I wish we knew more about. Emilia was amazing as Qi’ra, and her chemistry with Alden is freaking awesome.

4. Kanera

Oook. Time for my favourite ships. I LOVE KANERA. They don’t actually have any romantic scenes until the last season, but throughout the whole show it’s obvious that there is something between them. Also, they are space parents, so... I adore Rebels, especially the found family part. Kanan and Hera became an amazing support for each other, they learned how to trust through each other, and they heal each others’ war wounds, as well as the entire crew’s. I almost cried at the end of Rebels because Kanan’s death scene is one of the most heartbreaking ones in the entire Star Wars. Fuck, everything about this ship is perfect.

3. Vaderdala

This ship makes me so excited and sad at the same time. I love all Vader relationships, and I especially love him and Padme together because that has sooo much potential. Enemies to lovers? Possible. Lost love? Possible. Vader fucking killing everybody who ever laid even a finger on her? Absolutely fucking possible. Padme killing Vader in the end a-la Kill Bill? Possible. Vader’s redemption? possible. And every headcanon is just pure gold.

2. Scoundress

I’ve never met anyone who wouldn’t love HanxLeia. Leia not being able to admit her crush on him, their chemistry, Han’s charm…I don’t even want to write anything here. And I don’t need to, let’s be honest.

1. Anidala

These two omg. Their love story is literally the definition of tragedy. Just like with scoundress, they deserve several giant ass essays on their relationship but I don’t wanna write anything here. Let’s just agree that this is the best Star Wars love story and go home everyone.

P.S.

There are so many ships, I just picked my favourites and then picked favourites out of those

[sehoenghwa]

cake [c.s]

concept: Choi San x gender neutral reader warnings ⚠: smut, angst, degradation, shitty behaviour

A/N: I hope you enjoy it!! criticism is appreciated <3 requests are open!!!

 It was impossible not to fall in love with the bubblegum haired boy, even if it was platonically. 

  The way his bright white teeth contrasted with his tanned skin, the way his dimples decorated his cheeks whenever he smiled over a simple hello, and the way he never failed to remember everyone’s name in a conversation were just some of the reasons why everyone absolutely loved him, and some of the reasons why he had most of the girls (and even some boys) around his finger. 

  Unfortunately you were no different. You too drooled over the way he brushed his hair back with his hand, over the way he leaned his head against his hand as he very obviously daydreamed in class... 

  The academic year was coming to an end, and after months of pushing aside your crush, and trying to ignore the fact that you were pretty much obsessed with Choi San at this point, you decided that you would talk to him. And the way he said your name was like music to your ears. It was a small ‘Hey Y/N’, but it gave you the biggest serotonin boost in months. 

  Besides an absolute eye candy, the boy was also kind and charismatic, and surprisingly, to say you two hit it off was an understatement. He laughed at all of your lame jokes, he pet your head whenever you did something he deemed cute, and he showered you with compliments, wether it was in person or through text. 

  However that would only when you were alone. In school he would always hang out with his friends with normal hair colours, barely minding you, but still making eye contact and winking at you, to make sure he would still be on your head 24/7.

   It didn’t take long for the cute and innocent petting to turn into promiscuous touches, and for the sweet compliments to become dirty whispers. Despite his adorable appearance, Choi San was incredibly sexual even though everyone seemed to think he was the icon of innocence. 

   About one month after you two became close, you were in class and your phone vibrated in your pocked.

   Sannie💖: Y/N, would you like to come over after class? My parents aren’t home this weekend... ;))

   You giggled and your face became flushed, as you tried to type as calmly as you could, as if you weren’t absolutely freaking out. You replied with a yes, obviously, and after school you quickly ran to your house and put on the sexiest underwear you could find, fixed your hair, put some nice perfume on and headed towards the adress he’d sent you.

   You weren’t surprised with his house, it was very neat and well-kept on the outside, just like him. He welcomed you into his house with the warm smile you adored, however, there was something else under his expression, that you’d soon come to discover.

   The inside of his house smelled of vanilla, and you had a chance to admire the neat and modern decoration of the interior as he grabbed your hand and took you to his bedroom.

   Once you the door was closed and you were in side, the atmosphere in the room shifted completely, and so did San’s stance. He turned around very slowly and approached you. He placed his index finger under your chin, and tipped it, forcing you to look up at him.

   His lips approached your lip, biting your earlobe ever so slightly.

   ‘Do you need a safe word or can you take it like a good little slut?’ He whispered in a deeper voice than usual.

   It sent shivers down your spine, and even though your face was burning and your thighs were pressing themselves together involuntarily, you tried to remain composed.

   ‘I-I can take it.’ You replied. 

   He smirked and pulled away. 

   ‘Good.’ He said, before stripping from his tight white shirt, that didn’t leave much to imagination. 

   Your eyes were glued to the way his muscles moved and flexed under his skin, and you nervously played with the hem of your shirt.

   ‘Don’t be shy, baby, need some help?’ He asked, with a little condescneding tone, as if you were incapable of removing your clothes by yourself. 

   You looked up at him with big puppy dog eyes, as he removed your hands and stripped you from your shirt, revealing your bare torso. The male ran his hands up and down your torso several times, not forgetting to run his long fingers past your hardened nipples. He pinched them slightly a couple of times, causing you to purse your lips and exhale deeply.

   ‘Don’t do that.’

   You looked at him, confused.

    ‘What do you mean?’

   San smirked.

   ‘Don’t try to keep quiet, it makes me mad.’ He said, as he squeezed your nipple harder, finally making you scream.

   ‘Turn around.’ He commanded as he took his belt off of the loops of his jeans, and then stepping out of his pants. 

   You looked over your shoulder, taking a peek at the statue-like man. 

   ‘Like what you see, doll?’ San asked as he pecked your cheek.

   ‘Very much so...’ You replied, biting your lip.

   ‘Maybe I’ll reward you for that, hands behind your back doll.’ The male told you.

    You immediately complied, crossing your wrists behind your back, and you immediately felt him expertly tying your wrists together. You wondered how many times he had done this before, ‘cause damn he was good.

   The man proceeded to kneel behind you, spanking your ass in the process.

   ‘Hmmm fuck, how should I ruin you baby...’ He asked, as he harshly pushed down your pants and underwear, too focused on your curves to even notice the cute underwear you’d worn for him. 

   He stood up for a second, just to bend you over his desk, so he could have more access to you. San knelt behind you once more, and grabbed your ass cheeks, spreading them as to have more access to your whole. His tongue fucked in and out of you, as his large hands knead your ass mercilessly. You did as he had said, and not once did you hold back. Your moans and calls for his name echoed loudly in the room.

   You felt San move behind you, and you noticed his hand nearing your face. 

    ‘Open up, doll.’ He commanded.

    You coated his fingers with your spit, and soon after he entered you not with one, but two fingers. You yelled out in pain and pleasure as an overwhelming sensation came over you. San twisted and thrust hiss fingers as your hands desperetely tried to cling onto something.

   You knew you wouldn’t last long. It’s not like you were a virgin or a saint, but having your crush, the perfect man fingering you from behind... It made your legs go weak.

   ‘S-San please!’

   The male spanked your ass as you called his name.

   ‘Use your words doll, what do you want me to do?’

   ‘I want you to fuck me... Please...’ You said, pating, as his fingers slowed down.

   San stood back up and flipped you around, shoving his fingers between your lips, that were red and plump from you biting it. He enjoyed seeing your teary eyes and red face.

   ‘You thought I was just this cute, innocent boy, right? Never thought I’d be fucking anyone on my desk, right?’

   You nodded slightly, agreeing with his statement as your tongue swirled around his fingers.

   ‘Look at you... What a fucking slut... I bet you’re imagining my fingers are my cock... Maybe I should make you choke on it before I fuck you.’ 

    You nodded frantically, as he forced you on your knees. He caressed your hair with one hand as you traced the line of his cock with your index finger, stopping at the wet patch by his tip.

    ‘Don’t tease me baby...’

    You half did what he told you to. You freed his cock from the confinement of his underwear, impressed at the size, and played with your tongue around it. San’s jaw clenched, once he understood what you were doing.

    ‘Acting bratty, are we?’ 

    That was the last thing you heard before San grabbed the back of your head and pushed all the way inside of your mouth, until your nose touched his pelvis. Tears brimmed in your eyes as he abused your throat to his will. The sounds that came from him were heavenly, and you could feel his cock twitch against your tongue.

    He pulled out before he could come, a string of spit connecting your lips to the tip of his cock. 

    San wiped your bottom lip with his thumb, then connecting your lips in a rough, dirty kiss.

   He proceeded to pick you up, as if you were made of feathers, and threw you on his bed. San spread your legs wider and attached his lips to your check, sucking and biting numerous spots, as he teased your entrance with the tip of his cock. Without a warning, he bottomed inside you, causing you to yell out in pain. 

   You clung onto his shoulders tightly, and he waited a second, before starting to move slowly. San kissed you and played with your nipples, to distract you from the temporary pain, but once your wimpers were replaced by moans, he gripped your hips, picked up the pace, and focused solely on fucking you.

   The way he snapped his hips against yours was a talent, and his stamina seemed to be infinite. 

    San was especially good in finding just the right spot, and that added up with how sensitive you were didn’t help. You could feel your high coming, and San could tell, by the way your walls clenched around his lenght. 

    ‘Are you gonna come? A-are you gonna come apart for me doll?

    ‘F-fuck yes! Yes I a-am!’ You moaned out.

    Soon after you arched your back and your legs shook as the most overwhemling orgasm came over you. You could see San smirk, as his hooded and lustful eyes, covered by his sweaty fringe, looked at your satisfied expression.

    ‘Shit baby can I come i-inside?’

    ‘Y-yeah...’ You said, still fucked out an coming down from your high.

    With one last thrust, San bottomed inside of you and you could feel his cum cover your walls. You both let out a satisfied grunt. 

    San pulled out and rolled over, landing beside you on the bed. It took him a second to regain his breath, but after he did, he sat up and reached for the first drawer of his bedside table. 

    He grabbed his phone and... a pack of cigarettes? 

    You watched him, still trying to regain your breath, as he lit up a cigarette and put it between his lips as he randomly scrolled through his phone. 

    ‘You smoke?’ You asked.

    There was no answer, and suddenly the silence in the room became awkward. He kept looking at his phone, as he blew out the smoke of the cigarette and tapped it against a small glass that rested on his bedside table.

    ‘Um, what are you doing?’ You tried once more, sitting up on the bed and pretending not to be bothered by the second hand smoke.

    ‘Calling you an uber.’ He replied, in the most monotone voice you ahd ever heard come form him.

    He didn’t even glance at you!

   ‘W-what!?’

   ‘We’re done here, what did you want a rating? 6/10. Bonus point for letting me come inside.’ He said with a small chuckle. 

   ‘What the fuck San!?’ You said, well, yelled, as you stood up from the bed.

   He looked up at you.

   ‘I’m not just a piece of cake, for you to just discard!’ You said, tears threatening to fall, no matter how hard you tried to fight them.

   ‘It’s not my fault you spread your legs for me after a month of texting me...’

    The way he spoke... It’s like he was bored.

    There was a small silence. 

    ‘How many girls have you done this to?...’

    ‘You’d be surprised.’ San replied as he shrugged.

    You balled up your fists, and fought the urge to punch him square in the jaw.

    ‘Your uber’s out there, don’t make him wait.’ He told you as he waved you off with a smile. 

   A smile that you once loved, but now swore to destroy, as you hurriedly got dressed and left the house, embarrassed and heartbroken.

---- 

should I do a continuation??  👀👀

[uniquelyaro]

Living a Lovely Loveless Life

I am a creature of contradictions.

I love swimming at the beach, but you couldn’t get me out in open water for love or money. If I can’t see land, if the ocean is so deep I can’t even imagine the bottom, I am terrified.

I admire the raw power of storms and adore the smell of rain, but I flinch when lightning flashes, because I’m petrified of the loud crack of thunder that always follows.

I love the cold, because it means I can wrap myself in the warmest clothes and take my showers boiling hot.

I am aromantic, and yet, I am in love.

I never expected to fall in love. I’ve never had anything against the concept, but I was fairly sure I wasn't capable of it. I'm still sure, actually. But, I'm also in love.

If that sounds confusing to you, don't worry, I'm confused too.

I’ve been confused for most of my life. I spent the first 21 years of my life confused about my feelings, and about why I never seemed to feel the way my friends did. I was confused why I never seemed to experience things the way the media and society told me I should. I stopped being as confused when I found the aromantic label and community. Finding a word to describe myself felt like coming home. For the first time I had people who understood me, who helped me understand myself.

Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for me to realise that in some ways I was still the odd one out. The aromantic community is simultaneously both very anti-romance and very pro-love. Contradictory and confusing as that as that sounds, it makes a certain kind of sense. We reject the expectations of romance that society forces on us, while simultaneously reminding people that love doesn’t have to mean romance. Aromantics aren’t heartless or cold. We can love just as intensely and deeply as anyone else.

Well, other aromantics can. Me? Kind of a different story.

I honestly believe that I have never felt an emotion I can comfortably point to and call love. Not romantic, not platonic, not even familial. It feels like such a terrible thing to say, that I don’t love even my family, but it’s true. I care for them, for people, and I often care deeply. But I'm not sure I love them. Most people seem to think that’s sad. Even other aromantics have told me how sorry they are for me, how difficult life must be without love, but I don’t know any different.

Instead, the difficult thing for me is seeing how much the aromantic community likes to focus on love. They reject romance, sure, but instead other forms of love, such as platonic and familial are placed on a (very high) pedestal. Queerplatonic relationships are a big thing in the aromantic community, and it's treated as the pinacle of aromantic relationships, the thing to strive for. It’s very common to see an aromantic say things like “love doesn’t mean romantic love/romance”, “aromantics still love their friends and family”, or even “saying aromantics can’t feel love is a harmful stereotype.”

These statements aren’t wrong. On their own, they are very important things to point out because the ‘heartless cold aromantic’ trope is a harmful stereotype, and should be combatted. However, all too often it comes at the expense of aromantics like myself, the aplatonics and ‘loveless’ aros. It feels much too similar to the old “asexuals can still feel romance” for me. As a stand alone statement, it’s not wrong. For some people it’s even an important argument to make. However, it’s usually coupled with the harmful implication of “see, we can feel X thing just like normal people do. There’s nothing wrong with us”. It just moves the goalposts of acceptable differences, at the cost of people like me. It's a different bus, but I’m still being thrown underneath it.

That isn’t the only way I feel like an outsider in my community however. While aromantics can be very focused on the idea of platonic, queerplatonic or familial love, they tend to push romance to the side. Even when they don’t outright hate it, romance isn’t usually seen in a positive light within the aromantic community. It’s understandable, because amatonormativity and the pedestal it places romance on is a problem. Society’s expectations and views of romance as the be all and end all of existence is damaging, and the main reason I thought I was broken for so long. But you can reject toxic romantic ideals without rejecting romance altogether, something it doesn’t alway seem like the aromantic community understands.

I don’t feel romance, but I don’t hate it. It’s the opposite actually, because I like romance. I enjoy dating people, as long as they are aware of and respect my identity. I like romantically coded actions, and I seek out emotional intimacy. I’m completely comfortable with people feeling romantically about me. Strangely, I had more romantic partners after coming out as aromantic than I did before, most lasting for at least a year or more. I was even engaged to be married last year, and I'm hoping to be engaged again in the near future.

In fact, my planned future follows some fairly traditional romantic goals. My partner and I plan on getting married, having some kids, and settling down to live our lives together, although not necessarily in that order. It’s the kind of life I thought I wouldn’t be able to have after I realised I was aromantic. I convinced myself it wasn’t what I wanted, both because I thought it wouldn’t be possible for me and because the aromantic community tends to be very focused on the rejection of traditional romantic scripts. I thought that because I was aromantic I should be smashing through amatonormative expectations, a shining beacon of why traditional romance was overrated and wrong, why it's expected goals are harmful.

My partner changed everything for me.

We met through our online Dungeons and Dragons game. A friend of mine invited me after I complained that I hadn’t played in years (also about my very poor social life). Turns out, it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

At the time most people in my life (myself included) thought it was a risky one, for a multitude of reasons. I had previously had bad experiences with long distance relationships and he lived halfway across the country. I was already engaged and although I was polyamourous he had no experience with those kinds of relationships. His name started with J, and I already had (at least) 7 evil exes all starting with the same letter, two of which even shared his name. I was skirting close to 30, he was barely 21, and my previous (traumatic) long distance relationship had also been with a much younger partner. Each of those reasons alone should have been enough to give me pause. Combined, it very much felt like the odds were stacked against us.

Yet, we’re still together over a year later. Our relationship survived him moving here just three months into it, the first time we met in person. It survived the fact that he arrived just before the state borders closed and lockdown started properly, so we spent a lot of time unable to leave the house, stuck in each other’s company. It survived the breakdown (and breakup) of my engagement to my fiance, and the rocky transition as we learned to live as exes and housemates rather than partners. It survived the late nights, larger workload and infinitely more stress when I got promoted to a higher position at work. It survived, and more than that, it grew. It grew into something different than anything I have ever felt before, because in the middle of it all, I fell in love with him.

It wasn’t a sudden thing. There wasn’t one particular moment when it hit me, because I couldn’t even make sense of what I felt at first. I just knew I felt very strongly, and that it was a different feeling then I had ever had before.

Oftentimes when I ask alloromantic people what love feels like, the answer I get the most is “you just know”. Not the most helpful answer, but I don’t really blame them for it. Love is difficult to describe in a singular way. The truth is I could ask five people to describe love and get twelve different answers. Everyone has a different view on love, and it changes with each person you love. How you love them, why you love them, it changes from day to day. How could you ever properly describe the shifting nature of something that never stands still? Something that grows and changes with each action, each word and look and touch.

I don’t feel love, but I think I understand it. I sit on a very unique intersection of aromanticism and love, an experience not often seen and very seldom shared. I don’t feel love, but I’m also not romance repulsed. I don’t hate romance, or reject it. I participate in it, seek it out, even crave it. Now, I get to experience it.

Does my love feel the same as the love an alloromantic person would feel? I don’t know, and quite honestly, I don’t care. Love isn’t something that can be compared between people, because no one else can feel love the way I do, just as I can’t feel love the way someone else does. My love is as unique as I am, as unique as the person I love is. The love I feel right now will never be replicated, whether I never love again or I love a hundred thousand times.

What I do know is falling in love let me make peace with myself, and all my contradictions. I don’t have to feel love to surround myself with it, to give and receive care and affection and intimacy. I can hate amatonormativity and fight against it while also wanting traditional romantic goals for myself, because this time I chose them. I can feel at home in a community while simultaneously being an outsider, because sharing a label doesn’t mean we share all the same views, opinions and experiences. I learned about myself because of what we shared, but I also learned because of what we didn’t.

I am aromantic and I don’t feel love. I am aromantic and I am in love. Both statements are true at the same time, because humans are messy and confusing and full of contradictions. I embrace mine as part of who I am, what makes me, well, me. And there’s no one I’d rather be, than me.

[arofili]

Pov

POV — something that’s already happened, retold from another character’s perspective

a snippet from and Love, but Lucretia’s POV:

“Siblings, maybe?” Magnus wonders. After a moment, he pulls a face and shakes his head. “Nah.”

Lucretia nods, staring up into the night sky and remembering with a twinge of sadness the siblings she left behind.

“That doesn’t really capture it, either,” she says. “You all are my family, of course, but it’s not like the family I had back home.” She had two sisters, back on their home plane, but Claudia and Augusta were both much older than her and they’d never been close. Not like she’s close with Magnus.

And she’s been thinking about how close she is to Magnus. They’ve got something special, something that’s got her second-guessing herself sometimes even though she knows they’re both aro. Being siblings, with that kind of a feeling, felt…wrong.

“Yeah,” Magnus says, disturbing her thoughts. “I mean, Taako and Lup are siblings. Duh. And I’m not their brother. Plus, that would be weird with Barry and Lup.”

Lucretia agrees wholeheartedly. “Merle and Davenport are too old to be even sort of like our siblings.” She lets out a snort of laughter. Her sisters back home were older, sure, but not that much older. “And—well, maybe the captain is sort of our dad—” a better one than she’d had back home, that’s for sure— “but he’s also our boss, and also I feel like we know way too many things about Merle’s sex life for him to be anything other than a weird uncle.” At least he wasn’t skeezy about it.

Magnus is quiet for a moment, his nose all scrunched up like it is when he’s thinking, and a wave of affection washes over her. He’s adorable. And just when she thinks that she bites her lip and is glad he’s staring up at the sky and not her face, because that thought is so sappy it hurts.

“They didn’t make words for this kind of a family,” he says at last.

And oh has Lucretia thought about that, for so long, before she ever knew the Starblaster crew. When she was realizing that hey, she didn’t want to get married like her sister Claudia or have kids like her sister Augusta. When she was trying to figure out what kind of family she wanted in the future, and nothing she could imagine made any sense. When a few cycles in she sat crying in her room because she was so confused with what to do with this love she felt for her crew. When she’d done the same thing just a few nights ago because of how deeply she cared for Magnus.

But she doesn’t say any of that. “I can try my hand, if you want,” she says, and she forces a smile onto her face. She’d already tried, a couple dozen times, but even her skills as a wordsmith had failed her.

There was a word she’d known, once. Lucretia is shy, and she was even more shy before this journey began, and she had never been one to attend support groups or meetups for other aros. But that didn’t mean she didn’t read about them and listen to the people who did, and she knew about queerplatonic relationships. For awhile they’d been a distant concept, but now…

Even considering that her feelings for Magnus may be queerplatonic, not romantic after all, left her scared. What if she was being presumptuous? What if he laughed at her? What if he thought the idea was stupid, and that she was being silly?

“You know…” she began, but the words caught in her throat again.

She’d gone over the conversation a thousand times in her head, had almost brought it up just as often. But she always chickened out before saying anything, even when Magnus was so kind and loving with her and listened to her talk about things he only kind of understood and gave her silly gifts and made an effort to keep up with her ever-changing hyperfixations. He made it so clear he loved her, even now as he patiently waits for her to continue, and she’s still scared.

He waits, and keeps waiting, and Lucretia steels herself. Fuck it, she thinks, because if she wants this they’ve got to talk about it at some point and he’s clearly interested in putting words to what he’s feelings, so she might as well provide some.

“There is a words for a relationship that’s not romantic and not familial but also not quite…platonic,” she chokes out.

His eyes light up. “Huh?” he asks, rolling over to look her deep in the eyes, and Lucretia remembers that oh my god Magnus never even had the chance to learn about this stuff. He only realized he was aro because of me. How could I keep this from him?

“It’s an aro word, actually,” she says, and she rolls over to face him, her heart beating like crazy. “Queerplatonic.”

“Huh!” Magnus exclaims. “Queerplatonic. Neat!”

He makes the word sound so simple, so easy, when to Lucretia it was the messiest, most confusing thing in the world. But there’s a rightness and a solidity to his voice, and she feels less like she’s pulling this all out of her ass and more like she’s putting a name to something that’s been at the tip of his tongue this whole time.

Suddenly she’s flooded with relief and she can’t stop talking. “People use it in different contexts,” she says, “But it’s—I don’t know. It’s not something I ever thought I’d relate to, but maybe it would fit in this context. At least—” and she gathers all her courage and ignores the part of her brain that’s shorting out with anxiety— “between me and you.” The words come out softer than she meant them to, and she’s seized with the urge to shut her eyes tight and pretend he’s not there.

But Magnus doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t shoot her down. Instead, he draws her close into a hug and murmurs, “I like it. Suits us.”

The world falls still, or at least Lucretia’s heart does. She can’t find words as a warmth blossoms up within her that makes her feel lighter than she ever has before, filling her with hope and trust and love.

“We’re queer, and we’re family, and friends, and all of the above.” Lucretia can hear the smile in his voice. “Dunno if it fits like, how we relate to Taako and Lup and Barry and all them, ‘specially since it’s an aro word, but I think it’s good for us.”

He might as well have said, Lucretia, I love you in a way that is different from how I love everyone else and I think that’s important and I want you to know that. Because that’s how she’s felt about him, and she was terrified he didn’t feel the same, but now she knows. Well, she’ll ask him in those words later, just to make absolutely sure, but for now…

She opens her eyes and she’s beaming and Magnus is beaming right back and she hugs him tighter and she didn’t think he could say anything more endearing than what he already has but then—

“I love being aro,” he admits, and it sounds like a secret he’s reserved just for her and she melts because yeah, this is his journey but she was an important part of that. “I used to be afraid of it, but like—what the hell is there to be afraid of?”

Sometimes Lucretia is amazed at how deeply her aro experience aligns with his, especially since he’s bi and she’s ace and their questioning experiences were so different. But that hits home.

“I’ve got you everyone forever,” he finishes, and Lucretia remembers just how fucking lucky she is. “Literally.”

“Me too,” she whispers, close to tears, and she thinks back on little baby Lucretia and how terrified she’d felt upon realizing she’d never get the picture-perfect happy ending like her sisters had. She was so proud of that person who’d turned into the Lucretia she was now. “I thought I’d never be happy because I’d never find my soulmate. But that is bullshit. I’ve got something way better.” She leans her head against his chest and she really is crying, isn’t she. Well, why not, after all, because— “I’ve got you.”

[littlemisssquiggles]

Pinehead Headcanons: Oscar’s Light II

miki-13 asked “ So the fic "Until We Have Faces" having Ruby being thrown into the Grimm Pool has been on my mind constantly. The idea of Ruby's pure, small and honest soul being corrupted by the pool, turning her silver eyes red and stealing the ability to destroy the grimm would be a such a blow to everyone. It would simultaneously wipe out the threat of the Silver Eyes and be the perfect way to demoralize Ozpin: if she could taint his smaller, more honest soul, what hope was there to be had?  

Adding onto my last ask, it's pretty obvious Silver Eyes are a reference to Silver Slippers (Ruby in the movie, changed to take advantage of them having actual color inside it) and Salem wanting her alive has plenty of parallels of the Wicked Witch Of The West trying to get the Silver Slippers from Dorothy. It's also quite fitting if Ruby is thrown into the grimm pool that her silver eyes are changed to red, just like the slippers in the movie.”

Squiggles Answers:

@miki-13 ‘Sup Miki-chan! Sorry for the late answer. Weekends have generally been busy days for me since the start of this new semester since I normally use them for school work so now getting around to answering my backlog of inbox messages. 

I’m actually starting to really dig that concept too and your justification of it tying back to the Wizard of Oz story only adds more flavour to this sweet theory. Ruby Rose being broken and worse corrupted by Salem would actually be a rather fitting twist to the RWBY’s main narrative if done. It’s been foreshadowed since the end of V3 that Salem plans to extinguish Ruby’s spark. Since the get-go, Ruby has been revered for her propensity for inspiring hope in the hearts of others in the darkest of times.

It is part of what drew Ozpin to take interest in her development apart from her silver eyes. Beyond that, Ruby is our main protagonist. She is the key hero of RWBY’s story. The brave warrior who stands up for what is right and is always willing to step in to save the day and protect the lives of the weak and innocent; similar to the benevolent champions that Ruby admired in stories as a child.

For Ruby to suddenly become the fallen hero to be tainted by the key villain, not only will it provide a game changer. But it can also provide a way to show what Oscar’s true purpose is in regards to what his bond with Ruby was meant to symbolize.

Ever since Oscar was first introduced to RNJR back in V5, the show hasn’t exactly been subtle with the way it’s edged Ruby and Oscar together. In spite of only knowing Oscar for such a short time, I find it fascinating how much Ruby has gravitated towards him and has already cemented herself as a person Oscar can rely on. Someone who will definitely have his back when he needs it. A permanent player in his court, if you will. 

During the Mistral Days, before Yang and Weiss ultimately showed up at the house, you can see that Ruby was the one who looked out for Oscar the most---ensuring that he didn’t overexert himself during training with Ozpin, checking in him when he was training privately, etc.

This was what immediately sparked my interest in the Rosebud friendship because I found it adorable how much Ruby became a proverbial mother hen to Oscar with such a short time. It’s even perfectly understandable why Ruby would be that way with our precious freckled farm boy. After all, Oscar is now the youngest member of the heroes and I can see Ruby stepping up to support him because she probably sees a lot of her former younger self in Oscar 

Unlike anyone else on the JN(O)R_QROWMBY (apart from Jaune at least), Ruby fully understands what it’s like to be in Oscar’s shoes---the youngest among a group of older, more experienced huntsmen being thrust into a leadership role and having to shoulder the burden of such a badge of responsibility by working hard to always ensure that you are as strong as your team. This makes me think it could be cool to see a possible parallel scene where Oscar is possibly struggling with his training and the immense pressure he feels saddled with after Oz’s departure (provoked by meeting Ironwood possibly) only for Ruby to comfort him by subconsciously quoting the same ‘badge of leadership’ speech that Oz gave her so long ago. Could be a nice little segway to highlight that Ozpin’s teachings and words of wisdom still continue to influence Ruby in spite of everything that happened between the team and her former headmaster. Just an idea.

Ruby understands what Oscar is going through to an extent and it is for this reason why I’m very eager to see how the Rosebudding friendship develops for V7. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I expect Ruby and Oscar to grow closer than they’ve ever been over the duration of the Atlas Trilogy.

I feel like there is a strong possibility for this happening since I believe that these two kids are meant to be close They are meant to be together in some shape or form; be it purely platonic or…perhaps something more.

As of V4, Ruby is no longer the only smaller, more honest soul. It is a title she now shares with Oscar.

And what I like just as much as this is the fact that, similar to how Ruby has become a staple of support for Oscar going forward, this backing is reciprocated with Oscar looking out for Ruby as well. Oscar may not have the skills to aid Ruby on the battlefield (as yet) but he has provided her with a different kind of support that’s just as helpful and significant. Emotional.  

When Ruby was being nonchalant regarding her repressed pain of the events of the Fall of Beacon, it was Oscar’s words that helped her to finally speak out about it during the dojo scene from V5 C5. When Ruby appeared helpless and overwhelmed without a plan of action to answer the infuriated Jaune Arc in V6 C8, it was Oscar, noticing Ruby’s distress who stepped up to try and cipher some of the pressure off of her. While it didn’t exactly end well for him, it’s still noteworthy.

This action of Oscar stepping up to provide emotional reassurance to Ruby during moments when she seems distressed is additionally mimicked in V6 C10 when Oscar noticed how deeply concerned Ruby appeared to be for her Uncle Qrow’s doubts in their plan and did his best to reassure her that everything was going to be okay. Sure, the heist didn’t go without a hitch but you see where I’m going at with this.

When Ruby appears distressed, Oscar is usually the one to take notice and step up to help ease her qualms. As matter of fact, this has happened at least three times now.

It happened in the dojo scene in V5 C5. It happened in V6 C8 and lastly V6 C9. It’s like Oscar has some kind of built-in radar that blares off every time Ruby is in emotional distress and it’s his natural instinct as someone who cares about her to get out of that scenario..

So basically the point I’m trying to make here with all this jibber jab is that Ruby and Oscar are being written to ultimately become pillars for each other. They are meant to support each other.

The two rosebuds go hand in hand because at the moment, they represent the light. The only difference is that Ruby’s light is the one that most talked about. The one that is proclaimed to save everyone.

The light of Ruby’s indomitable spirit is what will save Remnant from the darkness of the forces of evil, right?

‘There’s a light that shines and its power is mine. Though our body’s weak and breakable, the spirit is indomitable’

---That’s the song, right? This now pegs the question, who is destined to protect Ruby’s light while she’s off using it to save the world? Sure you can use the obvious answer of her friends, family and teammates, right? But what if… Ruby’s unquantifiable indomitable spark does get snuffed out? 

What if…that light is lost? If such a thing happens, who will rise up to reignite that spark of hope?Who will even possess that kind of power? This is why I like the idea of should Ruby fall to the darkness, it would Oscar to reach out his hand, becoming the beacon that guides her back. 

When we last discussed this topic, remember how I talked about Oscar’s power being light itself and it will be his light that brings Ruby back? Well, that’s how I see it. Just as how you can’t shake the thought of Ruby being corrupted by Salem and her Grimm Pool of Darkness, this squiggle meister can’t shake the notion of Oscar’s light purifying Ruby of said darkness should she ever fall.

This now ties into my Pinehead headcanon of Oscar’s true power being light and magic; in the sense that he will nullify the darkness and cleanse it rather than destroy it.  Imagine if…Oscar winds up with a power similar to the Silver Eyes but instead of destroying the Grimm, he purifies them in some shape or form.  

Imagine if…Oscar becomes the living embodiment of light magic---the very power of creation and preservation and he winds up becoming this great and powerful young being whose gift pushes back the darkness. But his power isn’t destructive. Oscar’s light doesn’t destroy. It restores. Revives. 

This is why I also love my Oscar’s Creatures of Luxx Pinehead headcanon so much. I’m just picturing a scene where the heroes are backed into a corner fighting a full-blown horde of Grimm and only for Oscar to whip out the Oz-cane. Channelling his semblance into the ancient weapon, Oscar forms a giant barrier of light around himself and his comrades which basically forms a impenetrable shield that forces the Grimm to retreat.

Like imagine, Oscar emulating the kind of light that God of Light exerted with the Grimm being almost…fearful of said light.

Or better yet, Oscar is surrounded by Grimm and his semblance kicks in, bathing all the Grimm in a parting sea of light turning all the Grimm into Creatures of Luxx awaiting Oscar’s command. 

Sorry if I sound like a broken record with this theory, I just really like it because of the Wizard of Oz reference to the Golden Cap and Princess Ozma.  

And it also comes full circle because it simultaneously feeds into Oscar’s light being what saves Ruby from the darkness, should she fall, and reignite her spark should it ever go out.

Both Ruby and Oscar are the youngest members of our gaggle of heroes. Both of them are the current versions of powerful beings who share the light of the God of Light coursing through them. Ruby is presently the last known Silver Eyed Warrior in existence whose abilities originated from the eyes of the God of Light himself, allegedly. Oscar, on the other hand, is the current Wizard of Light---an incarnate of Ozma, the champion of a lost time who the God of Light chose to restore and protect humanity while bestowing him with the godly power of reincarnation. And let’s not forget that Ozma was already blessed with the God’s gift of magic since he is a relic of First Remnant. And that same power will ultimately be inherited by Oscar when the time comes.

I’ve said it before and I shall say it again, if Ruby is a spark then Oscar’s presence in her life is to be a fuel to her spark. 

He is meant to support her. Better yet, these two kids are destined to support each other through thick and thin. 

For they are our smaller, more honest souls who share the Light of a God. It is a light that shines in not just one, but both of them. 

The only difference is that only one of them has unlocked her said light and it’s only a matter of time for the other to go through his own awakening. 

And should either of these two beings of Light fall prey to the darkness, I can only expect the other---their partner, to be right there to save with their own light.

That’s my theory. I hope this answers your message Miki-chan. As always, let me know your thoughts on my thoughts.

~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)

[butchedyke]

(for the char thing) stanley uris, mike hanlon, and patty blum

migz!!!! i’m sorry i abandoned this in favour of video games and capitalism i hope i can make it up to u uwu

this is mostly going off the movies but there’s occasional book and miniseries input- i’ve only read the first few chapters, a few wikia pages, and some character meta from the book and i’ve only seen the miniseries once vs the however many times ive watched the movies in the last 2 months so don’t expect consistency between canons

 (also i’m gonna put these under a cut because this post got really long)

stanley uris

How I feel about this character:

there is a reason i use the tag baby boy for stan (and also for miniseries eddie)!!!! he’s my favourite loser other than eddie and i want to like. hold him and make sure he’s happy and healthy and i think stephen king should treat his characters better.

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

patty!!!!! their relationship in the book makes me so happy and anyone who’s ever spoken to me about stanpat knows that i am at all times thinking about how she calls his car sedanley.

that being said, i respect stenbrough, stanlon, and streddie but overall this is a stanpat household

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

stan with all the losers but especially richie! which isn’t very original since they are literally best friends but their dynamic!!! good!!!! i’ve not been able to stop thinking about that one scene from the miniseries where richie introduces stan as “this is stan the man uris, he’s a jew,” partially because it’s fucking funny because who says that richie what the fuck, but also because stan just instantly follows up by saying that richie has a high metabolism which makes him hyperactive, and maybe it’s because the miniseries is campy and a little bit shit but the delivery of those lines makes it seem like they do this a lot! they have these introductions ready to go! and i love the idea of them as a platonic package deal even if we don’t get to see much of that in the movies

My unpopular opinion about this character:

i don’t think i really have any? i tend to follow people who hold the same opinions as me tho so i have no idea what’s popular outside of that dshfk

i mean i do think fics that save eddie but not stan aren’t really fix-its and going off the amount of fics where stan’s still dead i guess that’s somehow an unpopular opinion? i know everyone’s focused on reddie rn but god like. stan is right there can we stop ignoring him pls

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

i mean the most blatantly obvious answer here is that i wish he didn’t die! he should’ve gotten to go on his holiday and rail/get railed by his wife and live to meet his friends as adults, catch up on the 27 years they didn’t get to be with each other. he should’ve gotten to have kids, once everything was over, and they should’ve been able to grow up with 5 extra uncles and an aunt bc u can’t tell me the rest of the losers wouldn’t be deeply embedded in their lives. i just wish stan had a chance to be completely, 100% happy without the underlying terror of his childhood.

on a smaller note i also wish we’d gotten to see more of his interest in birds in the movies bc like. he’s babie. and who knows! maybe would’ve helped stop the perception that his entire personality is just being a bitch that hates richie jshfd

mike hanlon

How I feel about this character:

part of the reason i wanted to read the book was for more mike content because i adore this lil farm boy and the movies. well. y’know. :). characters who just openly and whole-heartedly love their friends and go straight ride or die like 10 minutes after meeting them have my whole heart! he’s so smart and so kind and just wanted to protect his friends as best he could even though he dragged them into this whole mess bc he doesn’t want to lose them again!!!! mike deserves the whole world and if his way of getting that is by getting out of derry and getting to know that his friends remember and love him and each other then that’s all i want for him.

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

i wasn’t overly set on any particular mike ship until i watched the miniseries and saw the homoerotic bike montage and now i’m fully on the hanbrough train. choo choo.

just like with stan i support stanlon but endgame hanbrough is just. it’s right there in the text. bill didn’t divorce audra for nothing in ch2.

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

this also kinda ties in with the last point, but jane @billdenbrough opened my eyes, in the middle of a very in-depth conversation about audra’s minion strap, to the world of best friends mike and audra who are both with bill which is both galaxy brained and an incredibly good concept which i think about a lot

also i think mike and ben could’ve had something Incredibly soft if mike wasn’t treated like a background character in the first film and a quest-giving npc in the second one :) :)

My unpopular opinion about this character:

i headcanon mike as gay, i have no textual evidence for this, i just think he’s neat. i think it’s a pretty popular opinion that the movies treated him poorly? and i also think that in ch2 he was just trying to protect his friends in a scenario that did not lend itself at all to protection. drugging bill and not telling the others about the full ritual might not have been the best thing to do, but he was in a goddamn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation, and he was trying his best to save his friends no matter how impossible it may have been.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

i uh :) i don’t know if anyone’s figured out yet :) that i wish many things had happened with mike in canon :) :) the first film doesn’t give him much but the second film just infuriates me completely tbqh! he’s basically entirely there to push the narrative (his dialogue doesn’t even sound like dialogue! it sounds like prose explaining the plot and the next steps the characters have to take!), or to drug and lie to his friends. i wish they’d kept his backstory the same, that we’d actually gotten to see him find his token, that he’d gotten a token relevant to him as an individual rather than the group, that we’d gotten a flashback for him, that he was given more screentime and development across both films, like... i wish he’d been treated like the other losers and not a plot point.

i also wish we’d gotten to see him on his travels post-canon, seeing the other losers, and just generally actually getting to be happy- we see the start of it but god i just want to see him having a good time outside of derry.

patty blum

How I feel about this character:

if she were not stan’s wife she would be my wife. we don’t get to see much of her in the movie or miniseries and that is a fucking crime!!!! i’ve already mentioned sedanley but like. sedanley. i’ve read patty’s bit in the book and that’s all i need the other 1100 pages can get fucked, she’s just here to watch family feud and love stan which i can confidently say is a huge fucking mood

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

STAN. i guess i already talked about this before but i’ll keep going!!! my love for stanpat overwhelms my usual distaste towards straight relationships bc they’re so good!!!!! the fact that they’re really the only happy relationship to come out of the 27 year gap and they love each other so much and so like... wholesomely? but they still blow each other’s backs out on the reg and it’s what they deserve.

also i sometimes think about patty/audra as like. kind of a crack ship kind of a “i’m a lesbian and i’m desperate to see lesbians” ship. i haven’t thought about it in depth i just want to plant the seed

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

stan introducing patty to the losers and patty becoming an honorary loser is my weakness!!!! patty being comfortable enough to rib richie (and richieandeddie) with stan, but also vice versa going along with richie’s bits. patty and bev getting close because as much as st*phen k*ng and co push bev as One Of The Boys(tm) there’s just something in having another woman around that can be refreshing especially when they’re both bicons. patty and mike enthusiastically sharing holiday pictures and tales of their trips. patty noticing when eddie’s having a bad day, whether it’s anxiety or lingering trauma, and supporting him through it, regaling him with stories about stan and what essentially amount to dad jokes (sedanley!!!) and making sure he knows he’s loved and supported by all the losers. patty, the teacher, and ben, lunchtimes-in-the-library ben who never outgrew his love of reading, nerding out over shit that the others don’t really know about. bill telling patty all about what stan was like as a kid in that way only bill can, richie chiming in with crude comments sometimes but noticeably keeping quieter than usual, and patty returning the favour, telling them about the last 27 years, and not even richie makes a single joke when everyone tears up (because he’s tearing up the most). stan sitting there the whole time not even bothering to point out that he’s right there because it’s enough for him to see the romantic love of his life and the platonic loves of his life bonding, and yeah, maybe it was worth sticking around for.

My unpopular opinion about this character:

i don’t know if this is unpopular but patty pegs. that’s all.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

more patty. let me see my wife.

[chochmah-binah-daas]

The months since elul 5777 has been a hugely transitional time for me for so many reasons. I’ve been meaning to write about this since, well, late elul, early tishrei but I never had the energy to do so. I broke this up into chunks for easier reading but this is still quite an essay…

I know this is long but please like if you read even a part of this and if you have any insights or advice to offer me, my askbox is open and I’d love some support of any kind!!

Children

I always wrote off the idea of having children, even to the point of being one of those people who thought it was funny to be somewhat hostile towards kids. I did have some legitimate reasons for this, mostly sensory issues, being that I’m autistic and am sensitive to many sensory experiences; however, most of it was me just stubbornly holding onto a general distaste for children. Through the course of my retail job, I found myself more and more warming up to the kids who came into the store to the point where I would go out of my way to make faces and wave at babies at the expense of doing my actual job (not to worry, my job was literally completely ineffective). As I realized just after the High Holy Days began, I didn’t just not hate children anymore, I liked them. I actively like and desire to have children now.

If someone had asked me if I really thought I never wanted kids, I would pretty adamantly say I didn’t, though sometimes I’d admit that I could see myself maybe adopting one child in the future. Now it actively pains me that I don’t have children. Plural. Children. My only image of my future self is me, happily married and raising at least 3 or 4 good Jewish children.

I’m only 23 so I know that I’m not expected by secular society to have kids but seeing my more observant Jewish cousins around my age pursuing marriage really gets me down a lot of the time. I want nothing more right now than to marry a nice gay Jewish man and adopt a few kids. This leads me to my next sections…

Career goals

I never settled on one single thing I wanted to do with my life. I was one of those kids who, probably due to being autistic, was always getting deeply invested in something and then flitting off to another after a couple months. For the last year or two I did have a decent idea in my head that I wanted to get a Master’s of Library and Information Science degree and work in a library or archive. I’m good at that kind of work. It allows me to be quiet and a bit neurotic about my workstation because I’d largely be working alone, away from the general public and most of my coworkers.

After my graduation, my mom and grandma suggested that I consider going to law school. I agreed to at least take the LSAT, which I will be doing in February and oy am I nervous!! My mom, who went to law school, says that she thinks I’d be great at it, that my mind is so well-suited to that type of thinking. I don’t disagree with her but I also can’t imagine myself doing anything with a law degree.

In fact, I can’t imagine myself doing anything in the future. People think I’m joking, but I really do just want to marry someone with a steady, well-paying job and be a house-spouse. I have a deep passion for learning but I have no passion for an actual career that comes along with any path of study. In a perfect world where my mental illness didn’t destroy my ability to read, I would love to go get an MLIS and/or a law degree. I’d even consider going to a yeshiva and studying Torah, Talmud, contemporary Jewish issues, all that. But once I’m out of school, I have no clue what I’d do besides sit at home with all that knowledge swirling around in my head.

Education is never a waste in my opinion, but also formal education is expensive and I’d never be able to afford it without having a prospective career in my future to provide the income for paying off the student loans.

Gender

I never understood the concept of gender. All I know is what language I’m comfortable with, how I like dressing, and what I want my body to be. I am AFAB (assigned female at birth) and I medically transitioned through hormones, chest surgery, and a hysterectomy. My pronouns are they/them or he/him. I am now legally male with a traditionally male name. On most days, I enjoy wearing skirts though I do occasionally choose to wear pants. I could never be cis-passing unless I stuck with wearing pants all the time, which would make me very uncomfortable. If you asked me to get dressed without thinking about it at all, my first choice would be to throw on a skirt, t-shirt, and cardigan. It’s comfortable, psychologically and sensory.

None of this changed during elul 5777; what did change was how my gender and my Judaism were connected. Before, they weren’t. Now, I am working on becoming shomer tznius which involved a major overhaul of my wardrobe, particularly the skirts and dresses. I got rid of almost all of my short and revealing articles unless they could be easily layered and bought a lot of long skirts, three quarter sleeve shirts, cardigans, and other tznius layering essentials.

When it comes to my religious observance, I mix and match though I do mostly connect with the mitzvos for men. In shul and at home, I prefer not to light the shabbos candles if there is a woman who would be able to do it instead. I wear tallis and tefillin to daven and I leyn torah. But I also enjoy occasionally wearing a tichel and being the one who cooks for shabbos, plus the aforementioned movement towards being shomer tznius.

Religious observance

I currently attend, and work for, a Reform shul. I adore my community and the rabbi there. It’s such a loving and supportive community with a small but fantastic group of regulars at Torah study. I’m fortunate in that my community has no problem with the way I present myself. They accept me as a queer Jew who expresses their queerness and their Jewishness in a unique way. But I worry about how other Jewish communities might react towards me, especially since I can see myself being much more observant than I currently am.

Ideally, I would have a kosher kitchen and fully observe shabbos. I would live close enough to walk to shul and I would make sure to raise my children with a strong Jewish identity, and of course a Jewish education. I don’t know if I could have that kind of life while being involved in a Reform community, largely because they don’t tend to celebrate every holiday and also when they do, it can be too lax for my tastes. For example, even in the winter our shabbos services don’t start until 6 or 7 PM, a solid 2 or so hours after shabbos actually begins.

As a queer Jew, who is very obviously gender nonconforming, I don’t know how I would fit into a more traditional community that would probably be more regimented in its separation of genders into a binary. I wear tallis and tefillin when I daven but I would be seen as a woman by some men so I would be immediately singled out as an other. I do wear skirts but I also have a deep voice and facial hair (and my name is Zack) so I’m automatically too male for women-only spaces. Not that I feel entitled to men- or women-only spaces, but I do fear how I could become more observant, when doing so tends to mean an increase in that kind of separation.

Relationships

This is probably the trickiest and most personal portion of this whole shpiel. I’m currently… somewhat in a relationship, I guess? When I transferred to HSU, I thought I was aromantic-asexual and I have since realized that I am neither of those and now identify as someone generally attracted to men. But soon after starting at HSU, I met someone else who identifies as aro-ace and we became really close friends, hanging out all the time in one of our dorm rooms. They were in a non-romantic, queer-platonic relationship with two people and suddenly, they started including me in this relationship. I didn’t mind this so much at the beginning but the more I come to understand my identity and my vague goals and dreams for the future, the more I realize that I just can’t go where I want to go in life and be tied to this relationship.

I know that the longer this goes on, the worse it will be to break it off but I’m terrified to do so, for various reasons I don’t want to get into here. As I said earlier, I want to marry a Jewish guy and have Jewish kids and live a Jewish life. I obviously can’t do that in a household with two pagans and a Catholic, none of whom want kids at all. I know I’m probably becoming one of Those Converts who gets super zealous about Judaism and defensive of their Jewishness but over the last year or so, and especially since elul, I have had this image in my head that I just can’t shake. And that image doesn’t include the people I currently feel tied down to.

[imagine-darksiders]

Can we have a kissing Azrael scenario please like the war and death ones? Because I had a weird dream last night where I was kissing Azrael

ENDING UPDATED

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YwjIFk2vlrc

 What can I say? I like a good build up! This song always makes me cry.. 

Of all the angels you’d met, your good friend Nathaniel included, Azrael came across as quite possibly the most chaste. You hadn’t even thought about how quiet and unsullied he was until you’d started to take a less than platonic view of your friend.

It wasn’t an issue. You’d never do anything to make him uncomfortable, and honestly you couldn’t ever, in your wildest dreams imagine that he’d see you as something more than his dearest friend. Sad, but just the way of things sometimes. “We can’t all get what we want,” you chastise yourself for the third time that evening as you scramble around your home, fixing cushions and trying to at least make the place look semi-presentable. 

It wasn’t as though the queen was visiting, although to be frank, you almost felt as though it were. 

This was the first time Azrael was coming to Earth for a ‘change of scenery’. Or at least, that’s how you’d marketed it to him one night in his study in the White City. Frankly, you really hadn’t expected him to sigh deeply, stare into the distance for a moment or two before turning to smile down at you pleasantly, saying that he wouldn’t mind seeing where you live for once. 

So it was that you exuberantly, albeit nervously, suggested that he could come and visit anytime he liked, for however long he liked. The angel’s smile grew even wider and his eyes creased at the edges, thanking you for the kind offer. You both agreed on a weekend about a month away, when his duties weren’t so numerous and demand for the angel’s attention wasn’t so high. 

Which lead to your predicament. 

You hadn’t even considered how on EARTH you were going to entertain the very angel you’d developed a crush on. You picked out a couple of films you wanted to show him, ones that you’d told him about and he expressed utmost interest in the snippets you told him about, confessing that he’d never actually watched a human movie, but he’d always been quite intrigued by the concept.  

But what else? What if he wanted to do something a bit more exciting? What if he wanted to see something cultural and there you were planning on asking the angel of death to sit and watch televis-

There’s a soft knock at your front door and you whip your head over to it, tense as though it would fly off it’s hinges at any given moment. There’s the sound of rustling on the other side before you catch someone call, “Y/n?” 

Giving a start, you quickly rush over and grab the handle, throwing the door open and looking up into the bright, startlingly white eyes of your angel friend, Azrael. 

“Az!” you gasp breathlessly, embarrassed that he’d caught you off guard. You’d been so busy cleaning and wondering what he’d want to do when he got here, that you hadn’t realised the sun had sunk low into the sky, a time that he’d mentioned he would try to be with you at.  

Azrael’s lips twitch upwards when he hears the shortened version of his name that you’d affectionately bestowed upon him when you first met. Then inclined his head in greeting. “Y/n,” he chimed, “It is good to see you again.” Stepping back, you pulled the door open further to allow him access to your home, almost beside yourself that he wouldn’t think much of the place, which was honestly nothing like the grandeur and intricacy of his own heavenly home. 

So it was to your astonishment that, when Azrael ducked gracefully underneath your doorframe and straightened out, wings folded comfortably against his side, he gazed around with a look of wonderment. 

“My…. .Y/n, your home is simply remarkable!” he breathes, turning as you close the door and hover at his back, awkwardly. But if he felt your hesitancy, he was gracious enough to keep it to himself. “I’ve been dying to see it since you had it fully restored. I wonder, would you indulge me in a tour?” 

You blink, feeling vaguely weak and humbled that he’s being so urbane about the relatively modest accommodations he’d be sharing with you. “Oh! Of course I can!” you chirp, skipping ahead before suddenly slapping a hand to your forehead and spinning back to face him. “Oh, um….Can I uh…Can I get you something? A drink? Are you hungry? I didn’t actually prepare anything, oh gah! I’m such a bad host-” you’re cut off from your rambling by a soft chuckle and a pale hand resting upon your shoulder. You glance up at Azrael’s patient smile. 

“Y/n,” he hums, “I did not come here to have you wait on me hand and foot. I came here to spend time with you, away from the flurry of my work.” He laughs, deep and low and it sends you hurtling towards the point of no return. You feel your heart swell when he says he’s here for you.

“You’re doing fine,” the angel winks. You let out a shaky breath. 

“Thanks, Azrael….C’mon. Tour starts here. Have you ever seen a television?”

—

 “What a remarkable young girl,” the angel suddenly whispered, jolting you from the movie. 

To your delight, Azrael had been thrilled about your idea to have a movie night. Sifting though the many, many choices available, he pointed to a film and his interest in it had you laughing with delight. 

You popped ‘Fly Away Home’ on the TV and turned the lights off. Then, throwing yourself onto the sofa, you grinned up at Azrael and told him to make himself comfortable. The smile dropped from your face when he smoothed out his robe and settled on the sofa, mere inches from where you sat. His wings brush against your arm and absentmindedly, throughout the film, you slid the individual feathers through your fingers, stroking them without a care in the world. 

You turn to him when he speaks, “Mmm, she is….” you murmur, looking back at the screen where the heroine of the story, Amy, is flying her geese to North Carolina. Lips stretch in a fond smile when the song, ‘10000 miles’ begins to play. 

“Oh, this song….” you hum, leaning into Azrael’s side and breathing out a deep sigh. From the corner of your eye, you notice the angel watching with rapt attention, lips parted in a gentle smile, eyes drooped and relaxed as you both sit and listen, simply enjoying each others’ company. 

Oh, don’t you see….that lonesome dove….

Sitting on an ivy tree…

She’s weeping for……her own true love……. … . .. 

As I shall weep for mine.. ..

The music crescendos and you feel Azrael take in a delighted gasp. A quick glance up reveals that he has turned his head down to regard you with the warmest expression you’ve ever seen grace his features. 

The music, the moment, the ethereal beauty sat with his face tantalisingly close to yours…….

Oh come ye back….

My own true love… .. 

And stay awhile with me…..

It wasn’t you who made the first move, however. With a look of wistful curiosity, Azrael bridged the gap between you and ever so softly touched his lips to the side of your mouth. With eyes as wide as saucers, you stare at him in disbelief, even as he pulls away a little to look at you properly. 

If I had a friend…..all on this Earth….

“Azrael?” you whisper. 

You’ve been a friend to me…….. ..  ……

His brow furrows in worry and he pulls away, only to be stopped when you grab at his sleeve with a noise of protest. “Azrael, it’s okay!” you rush to reassure him as horror dawns on his face, seemingly stemming from the concept that you might not have wanted him to kiss you. “It’s alright, I just…” You grasp desperately at the air, as though trying to pluck the words you’re looking for out of it. “I want you to kiss me,” you finally confess, easily, “I just have to wonder……Why?”  The way your voice cracks on the last word makes Azrael’s ancient heart ache at the very notion that you didn’t believe yourself worthy. 

“Y/n, dearest little dove…. Why would I not?” 

You look, for all the world like you’re about to start rattling off reasons, so he silences you by once again bending down and breathing a warm breath over your lips. Tentatively, he closes the last few millimetres and pushes his lips, fully against your mouth. 

It’s not unlike touching your lips to silk. He doesn’t intrude, instead keeping his mouth where it is for a few, chaste seconds. Then, he leans backward again, wings fluttering slightly when you tilt forward, chasing his lips as they leave you. “Y/n, I must apologise for my boldness. Kissing is a much more human method of showing affection. I considered the rather unique friendship we’ve built over time. A human and an angel, surely an odd pairing, but it works.” He pauses, deliberating what he’s about to confess.

“You ask me ‘why?’ Because you are so tremendously....you.” 

At the confused furrow of your brow, Azrael beams, once more pushing his silk-soft lips into the dip of your chin. “Y/n, come now. There’s no need to look so skeptical. I wanted to show you just how much your very nature has spoken to me.” The angel stills as you move your head, ever so slightly to meet his mouth and you interrupt him by at last returning his velvety kiss. He almost sighs in relief as you sigh in wonder. He tastes so much of earth honey, and this close, you could smell something akin to roses, but it was far more sweet, almost like vanilla. Accumulated together, it was quite.....heavenly. It takes all your effort not to snort. 

“So,” Azrael asks, giving you one last restrained peck to your lips, “you would tell me, if that was out of order. Y/n, have to let me know if I have imposed...” He looks so damned worried, you smile. Always so polite and proper.. .. 

“Azrael, you could never do something that I wouldn’t like. I’ve been scared to death that I’D be the one to do something inappropriate.....” You duck your head in embarrassment, but Azrael captures it in his hands and lifts it up to push his forehead against yours affectionately. 

“You should have told me...” he whispers reverently whilst peering into your eyes, the same eyes he came to adore the moment he got a close look at them. Humming in agreement, you let a blissful smile twist its way onto your face and you remain there with him in quiet repletion. .. . .

[woodentrain]

Falling slowly

So, I definitely got more out of my second read through of Of Bright Stars and Burning Hearts. 

One of the things that struck me is how Viktor thinks about Yuuri, and when he does it. We know that at the end of the chapter, at the age of 23, Viktor is 'completely in love with Yuuri'. But the bit before he says this is very telling: 'Viktor had known for a long time where the path he was walking would eventually lead'. See that? He had known for a long time.  Perhaps he didn’t think it in the words he uses at the end of the chapter, but he knew he was falling all the same.  And when I read through the chapter I just saw so much evidence of Viktor falling. He's been falling slowly for a long time, and we can see it happen through the chapter. 

(The rest below the cut)

When Viktor is 21 he's already thinking things about Yuuri which would go beyond the boundaries of friendship. He "wanted to know him, to see the beauty of his soul off the ice as well as on it", and to "unlock the secrets of the soul he bared only on the ice and kept so tightly locked away everywhere else". He wants to know Yuuri, "however long it took and whatever the cost". That's really not a way you think about someone you just want to be friends with.  

When Viktor is 22 he starts mentioning that he's jealous of Phichit because he's Yuuri's friend. That, in itself, isn't necessarily an indication that he's in love with Yuuri, but it's a clue, especially when you look at his other thoughts in this section: "Yuuri's laugh was beautiful and his smile lit up his whole face and Viktor wanted to be the one who made him look like that". That's definitely not a platonic thought. I don't think it's sexual, at all, at this point, but romantic? Absolutely.   And there are more bits like this shortly after- "he could happily conclude that Yuuri had a beautiful soul", "his nose scrunching up adorably as he did so and his voice bright and joyful". These leave no doubt in my mind that, whether he knows it or not, Viktor doesn't just want to be Yuuri's friend. 

By the last section of the chapter, Viktor's thoughts are even more decisive:

Yuuri is "A breath of fresh air that brought life back to Viktor's world" 

"Viktor wanted to know everything about him, everything that he kept hidden from the rest of the world"

"He wanted to make Yuuri smile and laugh"

"He wanted to spend hours talking to Yuuri about everything under the sun. He wanted to know him and be known in return"

The last one is the one that really clinches it for me. You know that stage early on in a relationship where you want to spend hours and hours talking to the other person about everything under the sun? When you want to know everything about them?  That's where Viktor is here. He wants to be in a relationship with Yuuri.   

And we know a lot about Viktor’s feelings about the concept of love.  He’s a romantic.  when he was just a junior “Viktor didn’t know much about love himself but he thought that one day, he might like to”, which he later refers to as “a routine about love that he had performed and performed well because love was a beautiful idea and one that he one day hoped he might know for real”.   When he sees Yuuri skate this routine it’s not his technical skills which catch Viktor’s eye- it’s the “love woven into every part of the way he skated, every move, every turn.  Love and care and dedication that was real and true and so much more than Viktor ever could have imagined or expected”.  In case you missed it the first time, he mentions it again- “he had filled it with a love that was pure and true and more precious than any trophy or medal”.  

When we leave Viktor at the end of the chapter, this is where he is.  He’s wanted to know love for years, perhaps because his background and upbringing didn’t have much of it, or maybe just because he’s a romantic guy.  There’s still no indication that his feelings for Yuuri are sexual, not really- I mean, he does mention earlier on that Yuuri has grown up to be attractive but there’s nothing more than that.  At no point does he look at Yuuri and want to rip off his clothes and fuck him senseless, for instance.  

He’s fallen in love, though he knows it’s unrequited.  But at the same time he’s kind of hopeful- he knows there’s something that makes Yuuri hate him and he sort of thinks he’ll be able, some day, to get past that.  At the very least, there’s no indication that he feels the whole Yuuri situation is a hopeless case.

 So our poor little Viktor has fallen slowly. He's fallen slowly and he’s fallen deeply and there's no going back for him now. He wants to know Yuuri "whatever the cost"- and we know what the price is going to be (years of suffering, basically, in case you’d forgotten). Bring on the next chapter and let the suffering commence continue!

(Apologies for typos/repetition etc, I normally have a final read through before posting but my laptop is about to die so...)