#unrequited love really is the end of loving

[yourladyem]

Beetlejuice 2 Thoughts

Lydia doesn't freak out at the end screaming when she wakes up either time. Nor demanding answers. Nor checking that he's truly gone. It's like when you wake up and are shocked your spouse is not next to you when you've dreamt about them. Plus, the sheets and pillowcase are wrinkled on "his side" while she stays on her side on her back in her own area. She's shocked but not terrified like she was during the beginning of the film where she had panic attacks when she saw him.

He never tried to force her to kiss him during the wedding or any other time after her refusal during the couple therapy session. He didn't force himself onto her like Rory did constantly. She didn't push Beetlejuice off or stop him from kissing her hand. She's not grossed out but doesn't like it when Rory tries to kiss her at any time.

He knew Rory was using her and thought it was about time Lydia knew without him trying to convince her. He waits until she's about to marry Rory then makes him reveal the truth. Thought it was interesting Beetlejuice didn't say anything during the couple's therapy session. Maybe he was trying to show Lydia that Rory wasn't who he was by scaring him until he fainted and Rory denying the situation. Maybe even punishment for not taking Lydia's warnings seriously and Beetlejuice punishing him for how he treated Lydia allowing her to give Rory the final blow to the face.

She's not angry at Beetlejuice when he taped her mouth. It's more like "Really? We're doing this?" Like an annoyed friend who's used to it then she somehow figured out how to get it off allowing his antics then questions his stalking and not defending Rory or checking on him even when they got back their world.

Hesitates accepting Rory's "affections" including his proposal. She doesn't really want to marry him. She tries to convince herself she loves Rory. She doesn't really care for his presence. Beetlejuice, on the other hand, she immediately agreed to marry him without hesitation. She doesn't fight him off during the wedding scene or tries to back out.

Delores automatically gets jealous over the picture of teenage Lydia on Beetlejuice's desk. She doesn't know who Lydia is so why was her immediate reaction pure jealousy?

Astrid never rejects Beetlejuice's suggestion of calling him Dad. As outspoken as Astrid is and how much she misses her Dad, Richard, she doesn't say anything even after the contract was voided. She smiles when Beetlejuice sends Jeremy to Hell. Even Richard smiles.

Lydia's only excuse for not marrying Beetlejuice was their age difference. Nothing else. Not his personality, not his antics, not his stalking, not unrequited love, not even the way he looked and he was dead. Just the age difference. You'd think after being terrorized and angry that he's back and screaming at him to get out of her life, that she would have given him better reasons.

Lydia never makes a remark of never loving him or it's never going to happen between them. Even when he serenades her with Richard Marx. She's not grossed out or snapping at him. She's just watching him.

Every time he calls her "Honey" she doesn't protest. Never protested about her wedding dress like she did with Rory's wedding dress suggestions. Never protested on his analogy of them being like Bonnie and Clyde. Never questioned him when he wanted he to remarry the love of his life (her).

She grieved Richard which sent her to the group where she met Rory but showed no real remorse when she saw him again. She doesn't hug him or kiss him goodbye. No tears. No closure talk of how much she missed him or how he felt. She doesn't try to remarry him to revive him for Astrid's sake. They act like they are friends with no romance between them. They could have passed for siblings almost the way they interacted. Beetlejuice could have intervened dragging her away but he doesn't, instead he takes Richard's place at the window so Lydia and Astrid can have the closure they need.

Wedding scene gave Labyrinth Ballroom dancing scene vibes. Immortal man singing his feelings to the woman he loves. The girl is conflicted with her feelings. Same look from the women as the man sings to her. Gaping at him.

Lydia's look of regret/remorse when Beetlejuice blows up when she sends him away.

Doesn't burn the model like she demands earlier to prevent seeing him again.

Lydia never thanked Beetlejuice for his help with Astrid, Rory, or Delia.

Richard never tried reaching out to Lydia or Astrid when he checked in on him. No connection but Lydia has connections with other ghosts so it's not because he's less powerful than Beetlejuice. While Beetlejuice has a connection with Lydia for 30 years. You'd think Richard would have tried to find a way to connect to them. Meanwhile there's Beetlejuice.

What happened to the book at the end of Beetlejuice talking about the Living and Dead coexisting?

Beetlejuice doesn't put a ring on Lydia's hand during their second wedding. He takes his time with her compared to the first film (granted she was a teenager and Burton wasn't going to have it). He just wants to spend time with her as much as he can telling her how he feels and romancing her in his own way.

Beetlejuice doesn't stop Lydia from saying this name like he did with the tape during the couple's therapy session.

Delores and Rory would be a perfect villain couple going up against Beetlejuice and Lydia along with Delia and Charles as their side team. Maybe an actual love interest for Astrid too. The battle between the couples would be awesome. Delores seemed quite taken with Rory when she saw him and he immediately stayed close to her including wrapping his arm around her. And we know you can come back from being eaten by a sandworm.

The interviews of the actors are shipping the couple. They don't brush it off but encourage it. It's like they are teasing for a third film to see how people react. If they weren't, why promote the romance between them so much all of a sudden? Even Warner Brothers studios promoted a fan's video that emphasized the Beetlejuice/Lydia romance. Even the studio.

Michael always talks like he's still Beetlejuice and Winona is still Lydia after wrapping up filming. "Ask her. She'll tell you. She said secretly wants to marry me." "Secretly, we're kind of in love with each other. She secretly wants to marry me." Admitted they have definite chemistry. And they'd thought that for a long time. Thought it was cute. They should do a movie together outside of Beetlejuice.

Tim didn't protest the romance between them either.

[acciocriativity]

-> When they reject you…

... but it wasn't a confession (WOOSAN version)

Genre: angst-ish, bittersweet endings, unrequited love (hard to say from each side tho)

Tags/ Warnings: angsty; bittersweet endings; implied bullying in San's part not done by him; implied body shame in San's part not done by him; San's a coward and don't do anything about it; i don't even now what to say about wooyoung's part, that's a warning?

WC: 1,4 k

N/A: I said that I'd make more of these and here they are (after 8 whole months, I'm so sorry). I didn't forget about the lovely people that loved the MATZ version, this is for you guys!

Please reblog my work if you enjoyed it, it helps to reach other people <3

MATZ Version

Ateez Masterlist

JEONG WOOYOUNG (정우영)

You heard the soft buzz of your phone on your beside table, yet the only thing you did was turn around and adjust the thick blanket under your chin. It was getting cold by the minute and a simple thought crossed your mind before you closed your eyes once again, maybe you should see him one last time.

If anyone told you a week ago that you’d be ignoring Wooyoung’s calls, you wouldn’t believe it, but here you are. You could’ve just block him for once and for all, but a little sick part within you liked to hear the proof of his neediness and desperation. Every call were the solid evidence that it wasn’t all in your head, in fact, he was the once who always seemed to cling to you.

The silence filled the room for barely five seconds, then the phone started ringing again.

You wish you could say you slept well that night, knowing that he wouldn’t leave any voicemails, that little prideful jerk. Instead, the same scene appeared over and over in your mind.

You still could feel his hands around your waist. He made it all so casual, natural and comfortable, like it was supposed to be that way between friends. However, you knew he only ever called you late at night, sometimes just to talk when he couldn’t fall asleep, others to beg you to come pick him up and somewhere in between those moments, he made you believe you were special to him. How special or in what way was a work in progress, you were unsure if his actions should worry you, if maybe it was more than friendly, until he made it all clear a week ago.

It was his birthday, so you did everything you could to make a memorable night, even baked the giant birthday cake yourself. Sometime after the loud music turned into background noise, he found you by the kitchen, then asked you to wait upstairs for him. His room was the only one locked in the entire house, so he left you with the key after sending one of his cheeky little winks your way. You still remember how giddy you felt, because you just received the perfect opportunity to give him that one watch he was thinking about buying it for months now.

The whole day you couldn’t really get a hold of him, something you can not blame Wooyoung of all people for, still, it was dangerously close to midnight. Was it too much to ask for some time with you best friend on his birthday? No, no it wasn’t. You weren’t asking for anything much than a simple conversation and a little bit of appreciation, something you were yet to hear from him. So you waited as much as your patience allowed.

Bu he didn’t show up.

And you knew exactly where he was, most likely having the time of his life surrounded by all your mutual friends, and you did love that about him. You’d always say that he was like your personal ray of sunshine, people like him would always have the spotlight and you also knew he enjoyed that very much. How can you wish something else for him on his day? You wish he had all the fun in the world and maybe share a bit with you as well.

So after waiting for fifteen minutes, you decided that you gave him enough grace already. Wooyoung could get lost in the moment sometimes, so you decided you were going to remind him in the pettiest way you could think of.

But none of that mattered when you laid eyes on him, standing at the bottom of the stairs. He held close one of your mutual closest friend, closer then you remembered them together before. They both were in a small circle by the wall, laughing at something he whispered. Were they a thing now? How did you not know? But there was a larger question taking all the space in your head. Is this how you look like beside him? You were used to the closeness, you enjoyed the intimacy, it could easily be you there right now.

Yet, it wasn’t you and it won’t be.

So why the hell can’t he accept that and deal with the consequences of his own actions? You were giving him what he asked for, space.

Still, he’s calling again.

CHOI SAN (최산)

The moment your existence intertwined with San’s back in college, it felt like people’s perception of you changed all of a sudden. You were nobody to most, then became somebody to him and as a consequence, someone to his friends and acquaintances. It would be fascinating to watch if it wasn’t your own life and if it wasn’t so freaking depressing. A frequent comment you’d hear was ‘how odd the two of you look next to each other’, and there was nothing you could do against a sly remark like that, specially when it comes from his so called friends, and you knew San always took that as a light joke about your differences in personalities.

You don’t remember how it happened, one day you sat beside him at the very back of a class you, so desperately, wanted to skip but couldn’t, the other day you both were attached to the hip. And how could you not? Never in you life you thought you’d describe a man as sweet, not with you at least, but there he was, every day, proving you wrong.

To be in the vicinity as someone like him was a once in a lifetime kind of experience, but to be his friend was another thing entirely. San was one of those people that can make you feel at the top of the world when he pays attention to you, the kind of person that truly seeks connection with those around him and when someone talks, he listens with all his body.

You tried to keep those pros in your mind, but more often than not you caught yourself pondering if it was still worth the headache after all those years, like right now.

You promised yourself you’d come to this stupid five-year college reunion, because otherwise San’d whine about it for a whole month, like you not coming would make him lonely somehow, like that was even a possibility.

Then, it started.

It always does one way or another.

This time was a “innocent joke” about how you glued yourself to San back in the day. They all laughed including yourself, you did not want to make a scene, you never do.

Then there was the stares at the two of you sitting beside each other. That was the funniest part for them, the simple thought that you could still have some hope for something to happen between the two of you to this day and age was hysterical. You could tell since the very start of your friendship what those people thought about you and what your place should be.

Maybe if you ever felt anything towards San in that way, it’d hurt you deeply, but you didn’t and still don’t, so it just pisses you off to no end. However, you don’t have the courage to bring it up and perhaps you should’ve done then, but now you barely see any of them, so what is it one more day?

“You’re good?”, he leaned towards you and his hands caressed your lower arm like it was second nature to him.

You nodded, then whispered as you grabbed your purse, “I’ll be back in a minute”.

It was a long walk to the nearest bathroom, outside of the gymnasium, long enough to calm yourself down and to think clearly.

All the while San was downing a drink after the other, laughing at something he barely heard from across the big table of 9 he was in. Red in the face, coughing like crazy in the middle of the chaos, he did not see you walking up to him.

“What?”, he asked the third time, leaning in to hear his friend better.

“Just admit it already, do you like her, don’t you?”

It took him a few seconds to figure it out what that was about, then a flash of you came into his mind and the recognition on his face was clear to them all. He sobered up quick and sat upright, putting his body weight on top of the table.

You don’t hear what the answer was and you don’t need to. Their laughter, his laughter, echoed in between the song change.

So maybe he wasn’t that innocent after all.

Taglist: @h3arteyes4mingi

[sherbertilluminated]

Last night I was talking with my friends @teefigotem and @calypsopond about the pacing of the musical Les Miserables. I think Les Mis' libretto is one of the best foundations for a musical out there, but the first act has so much more plot and more iconic songs than the second, and I worry that top-heavy structure diminishes the ultimate impact of the uprising in the second act.

Caly and Maddy agreed that the 2012 film adaption had the right idea when it swapped the positions of "Do you Hear the People Sing" and "One day More." Transplanting the former to the beginning of Act 2 maintains the balance of revolutionary fervor (and iconic songs) between the two acts, and a serves as a payoff to the tension at the end of Act 1. While "Upon these Stones/Building the Barricade" begins Act 2 in the current libretto, it's high on exposition and low on enthusiasm. Since "Do You Hear the People Sing" has become an international revolutionary anthem, making it the opening of the uprising, rather than the prelude to it, builds on *ahem* that connection.

Just picture it: the audience returns to their seats, the orchestra hums with tension, and the lights go up on a somber street with a single voice—Enjolras, probably—singing. Students emerge from the set, workers join in, the turntable starts turning and it becomes clear that soon a barricade will be built in the street. The subsequent Marius/Eponine conversation that transitions into "On my Own" would still probably work here. In the span of fifteen minutes, the thesis statement of the revolting students turns into the reveal of the final barricade. It'd be pretty damn rousing, right?

The potential problem with this change is the lacuna it would leave behind. In the current structure of Les Miserables, "Do you Hear the People Sing" is an elaboration on Enjolras' claim that "they will come when we call!" and going directly from that rallying cry to a quiet romantic interlude flattens the rhetorical tension between romantic love and revolution "Red and Black" and makes Mairus seem a little silly (which, to be fair, he is. But Enjolras is not.) Although "Do You Hear the People Sing" is a little too bombastic for Act 1, before the uprising actually begins, there's still got to be some kind of transition. Something needs to foreshadow the violence to come. But what?

I proposed that the best transition would be a reprise of Stars. And that Eponine should get to sing it.

Since the Broadway premiere of the musical Les Miserables in 1987 and especially following the 2012 film adaptation, Eponine's character has been a locus for fandom attention and discourse. Because she's really compelling: despite being the daughter of the selfish, abusive Thenardier, she devotes her life to protecting Marius and ultimately sacrifices it for him. But the closest she ever gets to being understood is by the audience; even Marius, one of two people in the show to be kind to her (the other being Valjean), doesn't really understand the full extent of her devotion to him. And that devotion is powerful, whether as a proxy for audience members' own experiences with unrequited love or a representation of the bourgeousie's reliance on unacknowleged suffering. There's a lot going on with her in the musical. But there's even more to her in the Brick.

Unlike my esteemed Les Mis mutuals I'm definitely not informed enough to do original analysis, but I'm a big fan of the Javert/Eponine wolfdog theory. My introduction to it was with this post by @pilferingapples, although I don't know whether it originated somewhere else. The theory posits that Javert and Eponine, who are both compared to wolfish dogs for their ferocity and devotion to their idiosyncratic systems of morality, are character foils who represent the limited choices offered to people excluded from. I definitely don't know the op who suggested they trade methods of death (if anyone does, please let me know!) but that's also in the Brick. And while the musical adaptation doesn't preserve Hugo's canine/lupine symbolism, it keeps Eponine's one-sided committment to guarding Marius. And it keeps Javert's devotion to the institution of Law.

"Stars" is the hymn of that devotion. It's more sinister than Eponine's love for Marius, but in the grand scheme of things it's just as pathetic. Giving a short reprise of that song to Eponine not only explicates that parallel and gives new life to relatively-unused musical motif, it has the potential to tie together the action of the first act and add a new dimension to subsequent scenes.

Imagine if, instead of beginning "Do You Hear the People Sing" immediately after "Red and Black" or transitioning directly to the Rue Plumet, the scene changes to the outside of the ABC cafe. On the other side of the turntable/wall, Eponine is waiting. And worrying. She knows her father's going to rob a house tonight and that the girl Marius asked her to find lives there*. She can't let her father hurt him. She's smarter than him. She'll do whatever it takes to keep him safe, she swears—not to God or the stars, as Javert does, but to herself. The promise is shocking, because the audience heard that melody two songs ago and are just now discovering there is another way to be. There is another vow that can be made.

While she's singing, the ABC society files out the door. Maybe some hand out pamphlets or chat with people on the street. If the production wants to emphasize Eponine and Gavroche secret sibling bond, maybe they interact a little. But no one pays her too much mind. No one ever does.

The last person to emerge is Marius, looking a bit shaken. The timeline of the students' plans has been unexpectedly accelerated, he says. In case it's his last chance—nevermind why, 'Ponine, don't worry about me—he needs to see her once. You've found her, haven't you? Could you show me? Please? For my sake?

Consumed by shame and dread and the sense that he'll probably do something really stupid if she doesn't tag along, she agrees. And the stage begins to turn into the Rue Plumet, where "In my Life" begins. The whole interaction would take maybe two minutes.

There are of course thematic objections to this plan. There's the argument that "Stars" ought to be a unique, distinct song like "Bring Him Home." But those motifs are reused in instrumental form after Javert's and the students' respective deaths, so I don't necessarily think they're scene- or character-specific. There's also the argument that the melody of "Stars" is altogether too rigid for Eponine's character. I think there are a couple moments that would work quite well with the emotion("and if they fall as Lucifer fell," for example) but if you really don't want Javert's and Eponine's motif to cross, the melody of "A Little Fall of Rain" ("and you/I will keep me/you safe") could work for this moment too.

There's also the argument that Eponine already gets "too much" attention in the musical adaptation and doesn't need. But I don't know if that's true either. She interacts with Marius in several short scenes, she's present for "A Heart Full of Love" and "One Day More," she goes on her errand to Valjean, sings "On my Own," goes back to the barricade and dies shortly after. She gets about as much stagetime as Cosette does, and a little less than Marius.

It's true that she stands out as a character, but that's because she's got such interesting writing and is so isolated in the narrative. And while it's important to keep her "on [her] own," for the plot, using shared motifs to emphasize her symbolic similarities with other characters might make her character fit more cohesively into Les Miserables' grander thematic narrative. It could even make "On my Own" that much more powerful if she has a little hope that saving Marius from her father might get him to like her, and subsequently understands that this is not happening. But there's a lot more to her than being Marius' rejected best friend** and this choice has the potential to make that clear onstage.

In conclusion: moving "Do You Hear the People Sing" to the start of Act 2 letting Eponine do a wolfdog reprise of "Stars" between "Red and Black" and "In my Life" would be sick as fuck and maybe resolve some pacing issues in the libretto.

*There is a moment in the show where she realizes that she and Cosette grew up together. I like it in concept but it's a little awkwardly-placed and integrating it into the unnamed Red and Black/In my Life transition song would be great. Overall, her interactions with Marius seem like afterthoughts in between the larger numbers, which isn't fair to either of them.

**And for the record: this not a post pitting her against Cosette! They are both good characters and I wish the best for both of them!

[fantaatix]

a stolitz post? in the year of our lord??

warning this is genuinely a long ass post

okay so sometime last month i was watching 3bskyen’s JLMW reaction (really tells you how long i’ve actually been cooking this post), and he was talking about color theory or something but what caught my attention was that he was paused on THIS frame:

he said something about the red/blue contrast throughout the music video; red being symbolic of blitz (the moon) and blue being symbolic of stolas (the ocean (?)) and it got me thinking, i wonder what the gold might symbolize? because this definitely isn’t the first time we’ve seen the color gold in reference to stolitz. first think back to truth seekers, there’s gold in quite a few places

golden rails, golden feathers, golden shackles; this is why i say gold and not yellow. at first i thought it might be symbolic of the power imbalance, but that’d be too easy.

quite the selection of objects, isn’t it? rails imply safety but can also be restricting, the feathers seem harmless but then turn into shackles…possibly reminiscent of the nature the book deal and the role it actually played in blitz’s mind about his relationship with stolas.

but there’s one more thing i left out; the golden dust

...okay...don't laugh...

first time i saw this scene in truth seekers i was immediately reminded of shrek ever after

AND I’M NOT COMPARING BLITZ TO RUMPELSTILTSKIN, i’m not trying to imply they stole from shrek ever after, THAT'D be a stretch. if anything blitz is better compared to shrek himself, but i'm not gonna write about that because i Don't Want To

but if i’m remembering correctly, that movie revolved around the theme of taking good things for granted, like your partner and your friends, which aligns pretty well with how blitz’s bad trip ends:

“i believe your subconscious is trying to tell you that you simply cannot fathom proper intimacy, but also craves it as well. it’s rather unfortunate, sir, considering it’s often how you treat those who stand by you, such as myself. are you worried i may have enough of it one day, as well?”

"you cannot fathom proper intimacy."

blitz doesn’t know how to be close to other people–i don’t think he understands the relationship he has with any of the people in his life.

we still don’t truly know blitz’s full belief on love and we can only deduce it from his actions; he says monogamy is boring but then goes on to stalk his monogamous employees, on their anniversary no less, bringing along his own singular date...

he focuses on the sex in his relationships because that’s what he’s good at; he finds sex less complicated than romance... and then struggles to get his asmodean crystal to open a portal because he can’t get it off.

he has this recurring pattern where the title of “best friend” eventually turns into something else, often unrequited...

“...my first ever friend!”

he didn't expect stolas' intimate attraction to him. stolas made the connection and it succeeded in making blitz feel guilty about stealing the book; that was why he stayed the night. blitz isn't used to not being rejected, even though he has a record of relationships that stopped once the Evil Four Letter Word came up. when he goes into a relationship, blitz has learned to not expect it to evolve past sex. love has negative connotations to him.

the worst part is we don’t know for certain WHY any of this is, or if it can even be chalked down to a singular thing

yeah, his mom died in a fire blitz caused, his best friend/crush lost his limbs in a fire blitz caused, he’s been treated as property since a young age; you can makes all kinds of correlations between these events and how they might have affected him later in life but as it stands now, we have no concrete answers other than the conclusion that blitz hates himself and has commitment issues.

but back onto that “taking things for granted” tidbit–subconsciously, he knows relationships can be good, but he feels he has to give up a lot of freedom in order to maintain one of his own.

also note how blitz is desperately crawling up the staircase, feathers kind of just hitting him haphazardly as he does so, as opposed to trip!moxxie who takes a few steps up after picking up a feather of his own volition. he knows moxxie’s relationship is more stable than any relationship he’s ever had, and yet:

“stop fucking talking, all of you!”

cue the gold dust.

now, i'm not saying the book deal was a good thing. in fact, it kind of reinforced the power imbalance between blitz and stolas. i'm saying that from blitz's perspective, it was a safeguard. any feelings he might have had for stolas before could be dismissed, and he does exactly that one episode prior;

"it's a transactional fucking, you see..."

what i think he does take for granted is the advice “moxxie” gives to him, his attempts to reach out in a meaningful manner, kind of like stolas’ attempts to reach out. he ignores them both; he’s too deep into his own denial.

also, STAIRCASES IN THIS FUCKING SHOW.

why do these fruity little men think so low of themselves and so highly of others??

i guess that's a bit of a rhetorical question, we all know the answer, but. wait. hold on a sec

ohhhh.

OOOHHHH, that's what this post was gonna be about!

i fucking GOT all of you, you thought i could go a post without talking about him you're WRONG and should feel SILLY.

so this was the OTHER thing i realised when watching 3bskyen's JLMW reaction: it follows the same theme as moxxie's bad trip!

JLMW vs. moxxie's bad trip

in helluva boss, we're used to seeing staircases being symbolic of a difference in power or importance, or a staircase to heaven, or a highly anticipated event going wrong *cough cough ozzie's cough full moon cough cough*

however, i think in the context of moxxie’s bad trip and JLMW, it can also be attributed to emotional distance. like stolas, moxxie's also looking for an emotional intimacy/understanding between him and blitz (he spends his whole trip actively trying to get on the same level as him for crying out loud).

this could also fit into blitz's bad trip; he's trying to get on the same level as stolas, but feels like even if he ever did, he'd still be inherently worthless. a "play thing".

he doesn’t know why anyone would want him for anything else, but he’s clearly not all about the hierarchy.

they need to get on the same level as each other emotionally; they need to break the power dynamic, and thats why the book deal had to go.

the difference in the symbolism is that while blitz has a straight and narrow path to trip!stolas, moxxie’s path to trip!blitz is this winding, unguarded staircase. he almost falls off.

now, compared to both of those, stolas’ path is a fucking stroll. albeit an emotionally damaging stroll, but it takes less physical strength.

conclusion; stairs are symbolic of a difference in power, but gold is symbolic of something else.

and there is a power dynamic between moxxie and blitz. it's not like stolas and blitz's dynamic, it's an artificial imbalance; blitz is the boss, moxxie is the employee. and moxxie has his own inferiority complex, which i think plays a role in it too.

the imbalance between stolas and blitz is kind of, unfortunately, inherited. but it's not impossible to manage. of course, stolas doesn't care about where blitz is on the hierarchy, he doesn't care about the hierarchy period. but it's still there. blitz cares because it affects him.

"you will be technically under his jurisdiction, but..."

this was problem one. stolas unintentionally demonstrating his power over blitz. "surprise, i technically made you someone else's property! please love me!" i'm exaggerating but this is definitely not the kind of thing you spring on your partner; they needed to talk about this beforehand, but according to stolas:

"no need for an arrangement, it can just be him and me!"

sigh. the many different ways this night could've gone

this is enough to trigger blitz's fight or flight. he wants to be with stolas, but he doesn't want the freedom to choose to be with him, which is problem two:

because blitz's belief of love is so inherently fucked up,

what are the chances that the very thing stolas gave to blitz to reaffirm his free will was just interpreted as another shackle?

blitz doesn't do commitment; stolas doesn't say "i love you", he doesn't need to. if you love something, you let it go, and if it comes back then it's yours--which happens in the very next episode.

blitz is the first person to mention love.

but if they want to love each other, they have to be equals, which was why the book deal had to go. they can't hold each other to these super high standards because that'd just set themselves up for disappointment. they have to be on the same level.

tldr: they're two sides of the same coin. literally!

color theory for dummies, a brief intermission

fun fact: i actually didn’t learn color theory in an art class, but in a textiles class. we love american education. but anyways, i’m gonna ask you to draw your attention specifically to the complementary colors.

we start the chorus of JLMW in a purpley sort of place, which then shifts into gold, and then into the red/blue contrast.

except red and blue aren’t complete opposites, they’re both primary colors.

if they wanted complete opposites, they could’ve used red and green, or blue and orange, which are admittedly uglier combinations but the point is that stolitz aren’t complete opposites.

however, purple and yellow, or gold, ARE complete opposites; they’re complementary colors. if purple is implied to be symbolic of stolitz together, then could gold imply stolitz apart?

well…no. i think that’s the wrong angle. if they wanted that contrast, they could have left the gold out entirely, because red and blue separate is stolitz apart.

so how are we supposed to deduce what the gold is actually symbolic of? because no, i don’t actually think it’s an extended shrek 4 reference. that kind of exclusively pertains to blitz’s trip.

listening to the lyrics in the gold part;

This unspoken contract

A deed we forged for mutual gain

If that's all this was when you're not here

What is this rooted pain?

I don't care that you're of lower station

Or primed to sate my dark temptations

Why can't you understand? Let me explain

And I'm terrified as I cry

To make these feelings true

What's left for me and my broken heart

If I cannot have you?

a direct mention of the book deal…and another mention of the power imbalance…so i realize am starting to sound insane, but please hear me out.

i think the main theme of helluva boss IS learning to love in spite of damages and traumas and insecurities–not ignoring either of those, but learning to work around them or possibly heal those parts of yourself so you can love someone else effectively. learning from mistakes.

so what if the gold is symbolic of the simple desire of a mutual understanding? or a meaningful connection with someone else?

tying it all back together somehow

both moxxie and stolas want to connect with blitz (in different ways), but for stolas, that means severing possibly the only thing connecting them thus far (the book). for moxxie, that means climbing the staircase and possibly being pushed even further away.

moxxie also has this high opinion of blitz despite all his obvious (and not so obvious) flaws. i think it's partially because of his own inferiority complex, but to him, blitz is the phantom--his scar becomes the mask he hides behind. he knows blitz puts on this loud, crude personality to hide his cracks and keep others away, and has a scarily accurate portrayal of him in his mind.

moxxie wants to be on the same level as blitz, and he knows it's possible to get there, because he's a damaged character himself and he gets it. he's just yet to take the actual first step.

stolas, even in his own imagination, doesn't think it's possible to be emotionally intimate until the deal is broken. he could reach for blitz, but blitz wouldn't reach back. he's not looking. not to mention the literal celestial view he has of blitz in his head.

while stolas can see blitz's damage, he can't fully comprehend it yet, partially because blitz won't give him the chance and partially because stolas isn't damaged in the same way he is. they both had deadbeat dads, but they adapted in different ways.

that's just the way trauma works, you adapt to deal with it, and then have to unadapt those unhealthy coping mechanisms once you're finally safe. it just takes a while for people to realize they're actually safe, and these fruitcakes are no exception.

conclusion? uhh, i don't know, i guess i don't really have one. just. enough with the discourse about these bitches i guess??? just give them each some time, change takes more than two seasons.

i guess i could compare the way the songs are set up but this was supposed to be out like two days ago and it's already 11:45 so. maybe some other time, maybe in a post about moxxie's Interesting taste in musicals

was unfortunately unable to finish the mox vs. fizz masterpost this month but we'll see sometime in the coming months, maybe sometime after the next helluva short comes out. been a bit too busy with school and other social things to have time writing these long asf posts about my skrimblos

okay goodnight o/

[yaniiiiism]

hold my hand. -k.sm 💌

❀┆pairing : kim seungmin x fem!reader ͏ ❀┆ info : oneshot / twoshot ?? , a lot of fluff , and a lot of 'apparent' unrequited love (im sorry) , happy ending , cutesy , uni love , feelings and angst , short ! ❀┆ personas + bg : uni students ; dormmates w benefits ❀┆ word count : ❀┆warnings : cute and dread but dw happy ending yall notes at the end !!

✿　　　　( ˶ᵔ ᵔ) ♡　　　　˚　　　　☒

happy seungmo day !

♥︎ ! now, we share the same dream called, 'us'.

The night was thick with the kind of silence that made every little sound feel magnified. The rustling of her sheets, the faint crack of his breathing, even the soft creaks of the bed beneath her felt louder than the thoughts swirling around in her restless head.

She turned over again for what felt like the hundredth time, face buried in her pillow as she tried to will herself to fall asleep. 

But her mind was wide awake, racing in that frustrating way it did sometimes, hopping from one thought to the next with no intention of slowing down. The warmth from the body beside her, instead of comforting you into rest, only added to your awareness. 

He lay still, his back rising and falling gently in rhythm. His arm, usually flung over her waist, had fallen away sometime in the night, giving her space, but her squirming was testing the limits of even his patience.

A loud sigh slipped out, unintentional but filled with the kind of frustration she only felt when she’s tired, and can't do anything about it.

She felt movement before she heard him, the mattress dipping slightly as he shifted beside her. “Y/n,” he mumbled, his voice low and hoarse, dripping with sleep. "What are you doing?"

Startled, she froze. She hadn't meant to wake him. 

He really didn’t wake easily, so the fact that he was up meant she’d been tossing and turning for a while.

"Sorry," she muttered, feeling a wave of guilt wash over her as she turned on her side to face him. The dim light filtering through the window barely illuminated his face, but she could make out the mess of his hair and the way his eyes, barely open, squinted in her direction.

"Seriously," he continued, rubbing his hand over his face before letting it drop lazily on his bare chest, his voice thick with sleep. "Why are you moving so much?"

She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, biting her lip. "I can't sleep," she admitted quietly. 

It was a stupid response, one that obviously didn’t explain why she was writhing like a fish out of water, but it was the truth. She just couldn’t sleep.

He blinked at her, clearly processing her words through his sleepy haze. 

Then, to her surprise, he shifted closer to her. His arm reached out, wrapping lazily around her waist, over the thin, black camisole she wore, as he tugged her towards him, pulling her into the familiar space against his chest.

"Then just stop moving," he murmured, his voice muffled by her hair as his lips brushed against the top of her head. 

He wasn’t fully awake, that was clear. 

This was Seungmin in his most unfiltered state, without the usual layers of sarcasm or that teasing grin he wore during the day. 

This was him in a space where he let her in more than either of them were willing to admit out loud.

His body was warm, radiating heat in a way that made her immediately feel guilty for disturbing him. His fingers, though a little clumsy with sleep, rubbed slow, lazy circles against her back.

The motion was surprisingly soothing. She let out a long breath, slowly sinking into him as her muscles began to relax.

"You’re restless," He murmured after a few seconds, his hand still moving against her back in that gentle way, keeping her anchored against him. His lips brushed the top of her head again, a ghost of a kiss that she wasn’t sure he even knew he gave. 

"Always overthinking."

She felt her chest tighten at his words. He knew her too well. And maybe that was why it was so terrifying—the way he could see through her, even in his half-asleep state. 

But at the same time, it was why she kept coming back, why she never left his bed after nights like these. He knew her, and despite that, he stayed.

"I’m not overthinking," She mumbled, but the words lacked conviction. He let out a small scoff that vibrated against her forehead, assuring her that he was definitely conscious yet sleepy. Cute. 

"Sure," he muttered, but his tone was softer now, less teasing, more understanding. His hand slid from her back to beneath her the fabric that hugged her waist, fingers tracing mindless patterns across her skin.

"Just... try to sleep."

"That’s exactly what i’ve been doing for the past—"

"Shush."

At his lazy voice and his hand slowly prompting her figure, she nestled deeper into him, her body naturally curling against his, her cheek resting against his collarbone. 

He smelled like the faint traces of his vanilla scented cologne mixed with warmth—Seungmin’s warmth, something uniquely his that made her eyelids feel heavier.

"Close your eyes, and don’t focus on anything other than sleeping."

"I’ll sleep if you stop talking,"

He let out a quiet, annoyed breath, his grip on her waist tightening just a fraction, pulling her closer to him. 

"You’ll sleep," he replied simply, his voice now barely above a whisper.

His body was comfortable, solid against hers, and his steady breathing began to lull her in ways her own mind couldn’t. 

The itch to move, to toss and turn, slowly began to fade as his fingers danced across her clothed waist, occasionally slipping under the hem of the same camisole once again to skim her skin.

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, caught in a limbo between wakefulness and sleep, with his heartbeat beneath her ear acting as her lullaby. 

But eventually, the weight of the day began to catch up with her.

Just as she was on the cusp of sleep, she felt his lips brush against her forehead, barely there, like a secret.

"Sleep well," he whispered, so soft that she almost missed it.

"Night, Seung.." She whispered back, letting herself finally fall into sleep, comforted by the fact that, for now, things were exactly how they were supposed to be.

No nonchalance. No heavy talks.

Just the quiet, unspoken connection that somehow made it all make sense.

— next morning. 

The first thing she noticed was the cold.

It wasn’t the kind of cold that came from a draughty window or a forgotten blanket. 

Not really. 

No, this was the absence of warmth—the absence of him. 

Her body, once cocooned in his embrace, now lay exposed to the chill of the early morning air. 

She blinked her eyes open slowly, the sunlight beginning to creep through the half open curtains, painting the room in soft shades of orange and gold.

But his warmth? Gone. Just like always.

With a heavy sigh, she turned her head toward the empty space beside her, the sheets already cooling where his body had been only a few hours before. 

The faintest outline of his presence was still visible—a wrinkle in the bedding, the faintest impression of his form in the pillow. 

But Seungmin? He was long gone.

It had become a routine by now, one she was all too familiar with. No matter how late the night before — no matter how close their bodies were tangled up in each other, or how intimate the way he held her — he always left before she woke. 

Sometimes, she’d wake in the middle of the night, find him still there, his arms snug around her waist, his breath soft against her hair. But by morning? Always gone.

She stretched out a hand, her fingers brushing against the cold pillow where his head had been, and a familiar pang of emptiness settled in her chest. 

It wasn’t like she expected anything different. This was their agreement, after all — being friends with benefits, emphasis on the “friends” part. 

No strings attached. No feelings to complicate things.

Just two music majors, as close as dorm-mates, fulfilling their hollow desires. 

Or at least, that’s what they kept telling themselves.

With a groan, the girl pulled herself up into a sitting position, running a hand through her messy hair as she stared at the empty side of the bed for a moment longer. 

The apartment was quiet, the early morning stillness only punctuated by the faint sound of birds chirping outside the window. If she strained her ears, she could probably hear him in the kitchen, going about his morning routine like nothing had happened. 

Like they hadn’t spent half the night wrapped up in each other’s arms, skin pressed to skin, whispered breaths filling the silence between them.

Pushing the thought aside, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, the cool floor beneath her feet sending a brief shiver up her spine. 

She grabbed her robe from the back of the door and wrapped it around herself, over her camisole, tying the belt with a quick knot before stepping out of her bedroom.

As expected, he was already in the kitchen.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the small apartment, mingling with the sound of soft clinking dishes. He stood at the stove, back turned to her as he focused on whatever breakfast he was making. 

His hair was still slightly tousled, sticking up in a few places from sleep, but otherwise, he looked like his usual self — calm, collected, completely unfazed by the night before.

Yet, adorable. Enough for her to fold over. 

She lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching him. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, his usual morning attire, and he moved around the kitchen with an easy grace, like he belonged there. 

Like this was just another normal day.

Because to him, it was.

Or, at least that’s what she assumed. 

She sighed, pushing the door of his room open a little wider as she stepped out of it, walking to the kitchen. 

"Morning," she mumbled, her voice still thick with sleep.

Seungmin glanced over his shoulder at her, his expression unreadable as always, yet he gave her a tiny smile, which she knew was genuine. 

"Morning, insomniac." he replied, as if he hadn’t left the bed they shared, just an hour ago.

She made her way to the counter, grabbing a mug and filling it with coffee from the pot he had brewed, a small smile tugging her lips at his reply. 

She leaned against the kitchen counter, her fingers wrapped around the warm mug of coffee. She took a small sip, letting the heat spread through her as she watched the guy move around the kitchen with his usual quiet efficiency. 

But as she took another sip of her coffee, she couldn’t help but feel the growing weight of those unspoken feelings, the ones that clung to her chest like a secret she didn’t want to acknowledge.

She glanced at him again, the way his hair was still a little messy, the way he absentmindedly hummed under his breath as he cooked. Her chest fluttered, just a bit, at the sight.

“Slept well, did you?” 

His voice broke through her thoughts, casual as ever, but there was a softness to it – obviously since he already knew the answer, a smirk tugging the corner of his lips.

She shrugged, setting her mug down on the counter with a soft clink. “Surprisingly,”

He didn’t respond right away. He flipped the eggs with practised ease before turning off the stove, and when he turned around to face her, there was something unreadable in his eyes. His usual teasing smirk was absent, replaced by something quieter, more thoughtful.

She was sitting on the chair, fingers idly tracing the hem of the mug, gaze right on it but mind elsewhere.

For a moment, they just stood there, the silence between them heavy with all the things they never said. 

The guy’s heart did that stupid thing again where it skipped a beat whenever she seemed like that – he could see straight through her.

Her baby hair framing her face, the sunlight bouncing off of the curves of her head. Pretty, black, eyes concentrated on the green mug, carrying the same depth they always did, and he would oh so fondly dive into them.

“Coffee too strong?” he asked, breaking the silence as he moved to pour himself a cup.

She let out a small breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. “It’s fine, just kinda tired,” she chuckled, crossing her arms over her chest, feeling suddenly exposed under his gaze. 

“How.. about you? Sleep well?”

He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. “Slept fine until someone decided to practise gymnastics at 3 am.”

His words were teasing, but his voice was gentle, and for some reason, that made her heart skip a beat again. 

She awkwardly smiled, scratching her arm, a habit she grew familiar with, and he knew it quite well.

“I’m sorry, I was– warm, okay?”

He chuckled, “Warm, and sleep-deprived but lost in thought? Yeah, I know,” he replied softly, his eyes lingering on her for a beat longer than necessary before he looked away, focusing on his coffee instead.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? He always knew. Even when she didn’t say anything, even when she tried to brush it off, he always knew.

She hated that about him. And she loved it too.

“Thanks.” She suddenly murmured, “I mean, for uh, h-helping me sleep. Last night.”

He smiled, this time, softer than ever. “It’s nothing. At least you had a good sleep after.. I don't know, weeks?” 

“It wasn’t that long!”

He shot her a look that she knew too well.

“Okay maybe it was. But that doesn’t matter for now,”

The corners of his lips curled up at her indignant reply, but he didn’t press further, simply shaking his head as he took another sip of his coffee. 

His eyes flicked back to her, soft and observing, and for a moment, he let himself get lost in the simplicity of the scene – the quiet morning, the soft golden light filtering through the windows, and her, sitting at the counter, her sleepy, tousled appearance making her look unfairly adorable.

For a while, they just stayed like that, bantering and sipping their coffee, the easy silence between them filling the room. 

It wasn’t awkward. It was never awkward with him. 

That was part of the reason she kept coming back to this – whatever this was. It was easy. Comfortable. 

But lately, that comfort had started to come with a twist – a knot of feelings tangled somewhere deep in her chest that she wasn’t quite sure what to do with.

His eyes were still on her, his teasing grin fading into something more thoughtful as the quiet stretched between them.

“You’re doing that.. thing again,” he said suddenly, voice low.

She blinked, tilting her head. “What thing?”

“The thinking thing. The kind that keeps you up all night.”

She felt her cheeks flush slightly and quickly looked away, pretending to focus on her coffee instead. “I’m not—”

“You are,” he cut in, his voice soft but firm. He set his mug down on the counter and took a few steps closer, stopping just a foot away from her. 

“You get this look when you’re overthinking. Your eyebrows scrunch up, and you kind of space out, like you’re solving the world’s most complicated puzzle.”

Her lips parted slightly, caught off guard by how easily he read her. “So you stare, hm?” She grinned, trying to lift away the tension.

She didn’t know what to say, so she just stared down at her coffee, feeling a little too exposed under his knowing gaze.

“It’s kinda hard not to.” He replied a minute later, the same expression on his face.

“Well, I’m not always thinking about something.. deep.” she mumbled, but the protest was weak, and she knew it. “It’s just about uni, and other stuff, nothing to worry about.” She shrugged.

Seungmin just chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that made her chest flutter. “Sure,” he teased lightly, but then his voice softened. “Look, if something’s bothering you—”

“Nothing’s bothering me,” she interrupted quickly, her gaze flicking back to him, trying to muster a convincing smile. “I’m fine.”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You know, for someone who’s known me this long, you’re terrible at lying.”

She let out an exaggerated groan, sinking further into her chair as she covered her face with her hands. “You’re so annoying,” she muttered, but there was no real heat behind her words.

“I try my best,” he quipped, the smirk back in full force. But then his expression softened again, and after a beat, he reached out, his hand ruffling her hair gently. “But seriously, Y/n. If you need to talk, I’m here.”

She peeked out from between her fingers, surprised by the sudden contact. His hand was warm, his touch soft and uncharacteristically gentle. She wasn’t used to this side of him—the one that was careful with her, the one that wasn’t constantly teasing or sarcastic. It made her chest tighten in a way that was both terrifying and comforting.

“I know,” she whispered, her voice small.

He gave a small nod and pulled his hand back, leaning against the counter again like nothing had happened. “Good.”

The room felt warmer now, despite the cool morning air seeping through the windows. Her heart was beating a little faster, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of his touch or the way his gaze lingered on her for just a second too long.

She cleared her throat, desperate to break the tension that was creeping in. “So,” she said, trying to sound casual. “What’s for breakfast?”

– almost 5 minutes later.

“You know,” she spoke, her voice casual now. “You’re really good at this.” She took a bite of the toasted bread, looking at him.

He glanced at her over his shoulder, flipping the last omelette, eyebrow raised. “Good at what? Making breakfast?”

“What? No,” she said, shaking her head with her eyes judging him. “Why do you think I don’t let you make lunch or dinner? I don’t want to be fined because someone blew up the oven.”

“Hey, I'm not that bad,” He glanced her way, defending himself. “I’m literally making breakfast right now.”

“You’ve cooked the same eggs or burnt pancakes for breakfast for almost 4 weeks in a row, Seungmin.” She rolled her eyes, speaking again. “But, what I meant was.. you’re good at comforting me.”

For a second, the air between them shifted, the teasing banter falling away as her words hung in the space between them. He turned fully to face her now, his expression softening as he met her gaze.

“Well,” he said slowly, his voice soft, “you make it pretty easy.”

Her heart did that stupid fluttering thing again, and she quickly averted her gaze, suddenly feeling shy under his intense stare. “You’re such a sap,” she muttered, though her voice lacked the usual bite.

He chuckled, his smile reaching his eyes as he turned back to the food, finishing plating the eggs and toast for himself. “Maybe,” he admitted, sliding on the chair beside her. “But only for you.”

She blinked, silently, as her heart skipped a beat at his words. She stared at him, but he didn’t seem fazed by what he’d just said, casually sitting down across from her and taking a bite of his toast like he hadn’t just made her entire world tilt on its axis.

Oh, but little did she know, he was as surprised as her at those words leaving his mouth. The fluttering feeling inside his heart, the way she was looking at him, when he tried so hard to act nonchalant.

She picked up her fork, her hands suddenly feeling clumsy as she poked at her food.

⠀⠀𓄳 ֹ ͏   ⊹   𓎆⠀.   𓂅  ֹ ͏⠀◯

a/n ♡︎

OMGGGG happy birthday to the love of my life my baby seungminieneeiensiseesn I STILL HAVENT COMPLETED LIX FIC. I AM SO SORRY YALL ILL POST WHEN I CAN 😞😞😞😞 exams start tmr kms this is a twoshot btw. so wait patiently for the final part tysmmm <3 plz reblog/comment/like if u like my fics <33 made another spam acc for skz @loveforseung ALSO I HAVE AO3 !! user's same as @loveforseung go follow !! making a masterlist for all of my posts, plz lmk if u wanna be a part of it ! <3 have a good day ~ – love, yani ♥︎

[evadneares]

Hrishi

[faiell]

inspired by a scene from this heaven of mud by @garagepaperback

Sitting near but far, legs spilled off the edge of the bed, Potter turned to look at him. There were two wide windows on either side of the bed, drapes drawn back. The lights in Draco’s bedroom were off but it didn’t matter, the flat being in the city. Draco learned it was called light pollution- It meant you couldn’t see the stars. It meant it was much harder not to see what was right in front of you.

Potter looked beautiful. It should have ended months ago, preferably before it started.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 38

Jaskier has kept a secret for years. The ring with dandelions carved into it that he wears every second of every day is the only thing keeping him from turning into ash. He sleeps with a lovely woman one night, desperately trying to move on from Geralt (it doesn't work, he is still very much in love with his best friend) only to awake in the morning and find- FUCK She stole his ring! That conniving little-! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! What does he do!? He races to the mirror and it confirms his worst fear. The glamour the ring gives him is gone. He can't see his reflection. He reaches a hand up to his mouth and feels his fangs. No- Nonono! Then his worst fucking nightmare ON TOP of his worst nightmare happens. He hears the stomping footsteps of a witcher approaching their room. Godsdamn it all. He hears the doorknob jiggle and.. Alright, he'll be the first to admit it, he panics. "DON'T COME IN, GERALT" The doorknob jiggling pauses. "Jaskier? Are you alright?" "Y- YES! Perfectly peachy! Don't come in!" Jaskier rushes around the room, pacing in panicked circles like a caged beast. He was a caged beast. He reaches to close the curtains of the only window in the room and like an idiot, he fumbles in place and ends up with his hand in the direct sunlight. He shrieks in pain and holds his hand to his chest. Geralt, scenting agony and hearing Jaskier yell, barges in without another moment of thought. Only to see Jaskier scrambling away from him in fear. In all his years of knowing Jaskier, he has NEVER been afraid of him. It physically pains Geralt to see it now. He doesn't understand why he wasn't allowed in. There's no lover of Jaskier's hiding in a corner embarrassed at being caught, Jaskier isn't indecent or anything, so why-? Then he looks at Jaskier, truly looks at him, and sees his blue eyes are glowing, and his mouth - Parted open as he pants - reveals fangs. Geralt's eyes dart to Jaskier's neck and it's confirmed. The worst part of it all, is the way Jaskier's eyes keep glancing between the door out of the room, and Geralt's silver sword. Geralt is infuriated. Not only did the woman Jaskier take to bed last night turn Jaskier into a vampire, but she also made Jaskier fear Geralt because of it. When Geralt says he isn't going to harm (let alone KILL like Jaskier had feared) Jaskier for the twentieth time, Jaskier finally believes him, and begs him to help him track the woman down. Geralt is intent on killing the vampire that ruined poor young human Jaskier's life. Jaskier is intent on getting his human-glamour, sunlight-immunity-enchantment ring back from this human he slept with, so he can go back to pretending he's human, like he has been doing for the past hundred or so years.

[bellzsad]

ARTFUL DODGER FANS we need a ship name for jack and belle rn‼️‼️

[dragonrider9905]

For the Dancing and the Dreaming

@photogirl894 Morgan, this is for you!!!! ❤️ I really hope you like it!!!!

Summery: Being a Jedi in the rise of the Empire is difficult. First because an old friend has become an enemy and second, you are in love with the Sergeant of Clone Force 99,.

But perhaps where you lack words, a song can change everything and say what is in your heart?

Warnings: Talk of blood; arguments; each thinks the other is dead but they're not.

Notes: I wish I wrote the reprisal to Dancing and the Dreaming but I did not; I attached the YouTube link to the song. The artist is amazing 😭 please check it out!!!!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46476934

Just start the story, right? Here you go XD

“What on earth are you thinking?”

You never argued with Hunter in all the time you’d served as the Batch’s general nor while on the run with them. You’d had disagreements but never arguments, so this sudden outburst caught you off guard. You stood up taller and straighter to exude an air of confidence, lifting your chin and setting your jaw. Your hand immediately went to the hilt of your saber, feeling the gold trimmings and etchings for comfort. Your blade was unique…yellow in color and you wanted the hilt to display that, even if it did call attention to itself. It was black but traced with gold designs of your choice …ironically, this was your only tell of uncomfort. He often picked up on it, but you noticed he didn’t now. He was too busy reprimanding you. 

You sighed. “Hunter…”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Don’t talk, or don’t go through with it.”

“Both!”

You scowled and crossed your arms over your chest. 

Hunter paced about like a wild animal being pinned down, a look of desperation in his eye you’ve never seen before. 

“She’s coming for me, Hunter. I have to do this to protect you. To protect Omega!”

“She’ll kill you!”

“Well thanks for the vote of confidence in my skill.” 

“This has nothing to do with your skill and you know it. It isn’t a matter of ‘can’. Would you be able to kill her?”

You opened and shut your mouth a few times, trying to formulate an answer. He didn’t know what you had planned (he’d die the moment you told him for sure, so you kept it to yourself. By the way he was acting though, you wondered if he’d read your mind. You hoped he hadn’t acquired that skill. You’d be screwed.) 

You had to say something to placate Hunter, but you didn’t know what. Yelena, the Inquisitor who was after you, was a long time friend from the Temple. You couldn’t contradict the multiple late night conversations you had with Hunter, telling him about how close you were, and crying over the loss of her to the dark side. You even admitted once you wouldn’t be able to do it if you had to. You were stronger in saber skills but her connection to the Force was uncannily strong, and quite frankly, frightening. 

“That is beside the point.”

“It is ENTIRELY the point!” He threw his hands up in the air and turned from you, grasping the back of the pilot's chair. 

“Hunter…” 

Your voice was soft but it faltered. You reached out but stopped, uncertainty taking over. You’d loved this man for some time, but you never had the courage to tell him. You’d faced battle droids, sith and death itself head on with a heart of steel, but saying those three words terrified you. You were sure he didn’t feel the same. He couldn’t possibly. You wanted to believe that this outburst could have meant that he cared for you but it couldn’t. You didn’t know why exactly he was acting like this, but you knew it wasn’t that. You were his general, and only ever just his general. It was his job to look after you and old habits die hard.

His shoulder’s drooped. 

“Ner ka’ra…”

Your head cocked to the side, eyebrow raised. You didn’t know that phrase. You never heard him say it before.

“I…we can’t lose you too. Please. Don’t.”

You blinked, and he was in front of you, towering over you, eyes boring into yours. His hands had come to be on your upper arms. His grip didn’t hurt, rather offered a sort of comfort and support. You could feel the vibration of every fiber of his being begging you to stay, an unspoken desperation.

You started to chew your lip and he remained silent, seeing he was getting through to you. You didn’t need to use the Force to know his breathing was heavy and uneven, or to feel the slight shake of his ever steady hand.

But what you did feel from him…anger, confusion, fear and something else? Something he was hiding…

You were going to step into his arms, to give him a reassuring hug when an image appeared before your eyes. You gasped and nearly fell to the floor. 

In the mud of your mind, you thought you could hear Hunter calling your name. It echoed in the vast nothing that encompassed your head. Your legs started to give out and the grip on your arms started to dig. You realized you were falling.  

You were heaving for breath. 

Yelena was sending you a message: Come, or Hunter would pay the price. 

Resolve set in, unlike before. Your spine straightened and you set your jaw, letting your eyes bore into his.

“No, Hunter. I’m leaving. I have to. Please…know it is for the best because…I care. Tell the others I said goodbye…and that I love you all, will you?” 

And you were gone. Somehow you released yourself from his grip. Somehow you slipped away from him.

The feeling of you remained. A slight tingling causing his fingers to twitch. Hunter’s mind drifted to the first time…well, the only time he ever danced with you. 

Notes came from the musicians' old instruments in the town square. A song long forgotten by many civilizations rang out and danced between the walls and the old cobblestone streets. Your heart nearly jumped in your throat from the giddy excitement. A buzz traveling from your brain to the tips of your fingers and toes.

“I can’t believe they know this song! They know it!” 

You clamped your hands over your heart, shutting your eyes, swaying to the music and humming along the opening notes. 

“It’s an old song from my home,” you smiled nostalgically, sighing into the land of memory.

The peace and happiness that settled over you was not lost on Hunter and he was glad Omega had requested the musicians to play it. He smiled, watching you, taking the picture of you in. It was some sort of holiday in town and everyone was in a giving mood. Wrecker was off somewhere eating food, Tech and Echo doing who knows what, while you, Hunter and Omega went exploring about town. 

You had a wreath of flowers in your hair, little blue ones he thought you called “forget-me-nots.” They were your favorite, you’d told him that while gazing at the crown. The flower stall owner must have overheard you, because he gave them to you for free. Hunter was glad he did…you looked beautiful. The blues complimented the purple garments you wore. Ugh, he was staring and he had to stop! But it was keeping his mind off the fact he was trembling when he placed the crown on your head himself…

Omega heard you humming this tune one day and asked what it was called. “For the Dancing and the Dreaming.” you replied. “Someday, I’ll teach you the dance to the song. Right now, we gotta finish these repairs, ok kiddo? We can learn the words as we go, so long as Tech doesn’t mind the noise.” 

Hunter hardly considered it noise. Your voice was one of the most lovely things he’d heard in a while *coughs, correction, ever*. Hearing you and Omega sing and laugh quickly became his favorite sound in all the galaxy. The harmonies you two created were…not as pleasant, at first. But the more the two of you sang and learned from each other, the better you got. They tried (and succeeded on a few occasions) to get Hunter to sing along with them. His deep baritone voice added something special to the music, or at least that is what you said, and he pretended like he believed you. 

Apparently Omega hadn’t forgotten your promise to learn the dance.

Omega praddled up to your side, something curious in her eyes…Hunter had seen this kind of mischief before. What did Omega have up her sleeve?

She called out your name in a sing-song voice. “Won’t you pleeeease show us the dance! Please!”

You laughed, hardly needing the encouragement. 

“Alright. But I’ll need a partner.” 

You smiled sweetly at the girl, expecting her to volunteer. She put on a troubled face; Hunter knew her well enough to know it was staged. Though you knew her well, you didn’t have the talent of seeing through some of her acting yet. 

“I…I think I should watch first. I’ve never danced before. Why don’t you dance with Hunter?!”

Ah, so that is what she was up to.

“Oh, ok.” You shifted a little uncomfortably. You coughed and cleared your throat, extending your hand to him with a tremor. “H-hunter, would you like to dance?”

What was he going to say? No?

“Sure, why not?” He shrugged, trying to play off the awkwardness. He cleared his own throat and took your hand, following you to the center of the town square (or circle, in this case). Omega giggled and followed close behind, keeping enough of a distance not to ‘ruin the magic’. 

“It’s sort of a proposal song.” You coughed again. “It goes back and forth between the lovers…and so does the dance, here it goes like this.” 

It would be a little difficult to start in the middle of the song but you thought you could make it work. You raised your hand, trying to explain the steps, getting Hunter to do the same. He placed his palm against yours. You took a deep breath in and your heart beat fast. You looked into his eyes and got lost. You froze, forgetting the steps you had just taught him. He was looking at you too, and you wondered what he was thinking. 

The music jarred and stopped suddenly, waking you up from your daydream. You looked up, surprised at the musicians. The old man with the violin smiled knowingly at you and nodded, restarting the song.

Your voice rang out in a clear, perfect tone. Though you started to draw a crowd, it only felt like it was the two of you. Your vision tunneled on him, creating a cloud around everyone else. 

There was nothing but the two of you. No sound other than the music and your breathing and heart beats. No sight except the one in front of you. No feeling beyond your partner. 

You started to turn, and Hunter followed, anticipating your moves and catching your cues. You missed Omega’s satisfied, adoring eyes at how well her plan had worked. 

“I'll swim and sail on savage seas

With ne'er a fear of drowning

And gladly ride the waves of life

If you will marry me

No scorching sun

Nor freezing cold

Will stop me on my journey

If you will promise me your heart

And love me for eternity”

Hunter made up his mind to follow you. It wasn’t a hard decision to make. There was no question. 

He never thought about anything less.

— — —

The rocky, mountainous planet was kind of intimidating…you had to watch your step otherwise you could fall into a rocky canyon, a muddy ravine, or into deep, unending nothingness. The skies were gray like the world of rock around you, a storm threatening every minute. A rustling sound came from behind you. You spun around to find not your failed friend, now enemy but…

“Hunter, what are you doing here?” 

“I’m not letting you face her alone.”

“She’s a master manipulator! Do you know what she’s capable of when she abuses the force! She could paralyze you or worse! She can instantly spot a weakness and know how to exploit it.”

“I can’t let her hurt you.”

“Hunter…”

“Ahhhh, look who finally decided to show up. I’ve been waiting for you.” 

A voice you knew so well. Once full of sun and light now dark and foreboding. You knew it but didn’t recognize it. 

“Yelena.” 

“Took you long enough.” She crossed her arms, annoyed. “Surprised you brought the boyfriend considering my offer.”

“Boyfriend?” Hunter was taken aback. Yelena smirked at the new revelation. 

“Yes. Don’t tell me she’s never told you how she feels about you. She had feelings for you during the Clone War…just imagine how it’s grown.”

You felt your face burn a deep red. You felt Hunter look at you more than you saw it. You pointedly ignored it. 

“I won’t join you. I can’t join you.”

Yelena shrugged. “Hm, should we let the man have a say? After all, it seems you’ve been keeping things from him. Here’s the deal, good looking—“

You felt yourself die on the inside. Yelena swayed on her hip, she knew the effect she was having on you.

“I told Miss Perfect Jedi, here, she could either join me…or I’d rip her apart…” Yelena stepped forward; you extended your hand protectively in front of Hunter, moving to take the front. She still wasn’t looking at you though, she was addressing Hunter with a cruel gleam in her eye.

“Know how I’d do that?” Her smile was cold, and reveling in the ice. “By hurting you, precious.”

Hunter was stunned. From what he remembered of  Yelena was…she never bluffed. She always threatened truths…which made her promises terrifying…if she was threatening this…that meant?

He was frozen in his spot. He should have heard the blade ignited. He should have seen the glow of promised blood. He should have moved. But he didn’t, until it was too late. He felt an invisible grip hold him, invading his mind.

He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move.

Nothing.

“Yelena stop! This isn’t you! You’re hurting, don’t let that destroy you!”

“You could have the same power. Join me!”

“Love will always be more powerful than hate. It takes more strength than to yield. Only the weak succumb.” 

Anger crossed Yelena’s face…a boiling anger, and Hunter knew you’d crossed a line. She came forward, saber raised. 

Hunter watched helpless as you placed yourself between Yelena and himself. 

NO.

He watched as you embraced the red blade, saber going clean through you. The red blade entering and leaving your body.

Why would you do that for him? 

Why?

His lungs refused to let in air. The tips of his fingers turned cold and his hands went numb. He knew he was clenching his fists but he couldn’t feel it.

He watched as you gasped, saw the single tear leave your eye, heard as an exhale of finality left your lungs as your body crumbled to the ground. 

“My dear, that wasn’t very smart. Now you’re dying and he’s going to pay the price like I warned you he would.”

Yelena kicked you and Hunter saw your body slacken. 

His muscles were tense and exhausted themselves from trying to move, trying to get to you. Anger flooded his veins like lava. 

“Do you know why she always planned on taking the blade? You’re wondering why she didn’t just fight me off with her superior skills? Oh you didn’t know that; then let me tell you…Because she thought she could save me. Seems like she thought that would save you too. Looks like no one here is getting saved.” She grabbed the bandanna off his head. Letting it fall in place.

“Say goodbye, she’ll die before you reach the top…if you ever do. Personally, I’m rooting for your survival. Won’t that make the future interesting?”

With that, Yelena dropped him over the side of the cliff.

He free fell.

Down.

Down. 

Crash. 

All was black. 

Last thing he remembered was seeing you laugh and how much he wanted to hear that again. All he wanted was to hold you. If he couldn’t in this life, maybe you could dance in his dream….or together again in the next.

My dearest one, my darling dear

Your mighty words astound me

But I've no need of mighty deeds

When I feel your arms around me

But I would bring you rings of gold

I'd even sing you poetry 

And I would keep you from all harm

If you would stay beside me

I have no use for rings of gold

I care not for your poetry

I only want your hand to hold

I only want you near me

To love and kiss, to sweetly hold

For the dancing and the dreaming

Through all life's sorrows and delights

I'll keep your laugh inside me

Startled, Hunter jolted awake. Pain flashed across his body but he wasn’t as hurt as he should’ve been. Looking around, he saw he broke through layers of rock and landed on a cushioned area. 

Thank the Force. 

His relief was short-lived however. How long had he been asleep? Were you still alive? How long did you have?

Would you be laying there pale and motionless, waiting expectedly for him to come to you though he never came? His stomach lurched. It was near sunset…you couldn’t have survived this long.

Hanging his head, the tracker felt lost for the first time.

— — —

You woke up alone. 

Abandoned. 

You were right. Yelena couldn’t kill you either. You knew she didn’t have it in her. Maybe your act did some good yet. If only Hunter…wait. Hunter! You felt the earth around you, trying to evoke the memory of what happened there from the dirt. 

You wished you hadn’t. Wanting to scream, a sob came out instead. Tears blurred your vision but in the mixing of colors, and swirling surrounding…red caught your eye.

Dragging yourself over to the spot where Hunter’s bandanna lay abandoned on the ground, you reached out and gently picked it up, bringing it to your face. Tenderly, you ran your fingers along the emblem, feeling the familiar fabric. Bringing it to your lips briefly, a new resolve filled you. You had to get up. Find the body. Honor him one last time.

You gasped and dragged yourself up, hands pinned to the wounds at your side. 

No.

He was gone.

The sobs came, and you didn’t hinder the tears as they fell shamelessly from your eyes down your cheeks. Your side burned as if the saber was still inside you, twisting itself in circles, but that was nothing compared to the heaviness you felt in your heart. Your grief was overwhelming and threatened to subject you…but you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. 

He wouldn’t want it. You’d live for him. It was your fault he was gone. You couldn’t give up when he sacrificed everything for you. An Inquisitor once boasted to you what hate could do for the will to live. Well, he had nothing on love.

The wound looked bad, but you bound it. You could beat this yet. You had to. You had to find Hunter, even if his spirit was one with the Force.

Unexpectedly, something pricked your brain…a happy memory turned bittersweet. A memory in the form of a song…you couldn’t sing that one now, but you could sing something in his honor. 

Slowly the words came to you, and in as steady of a voice you could muster, you let the old melody carry the new words. Words you hoped conveyed to him what you felt. 

Strain started to seep into the words and when you reached the apex of the song, all the sadness, anger, and bitterness was released in a word. You fell to your knees, and looked to the sky, letting the last note soar like you knew his spirit would.

More tears came but quietly, and a peace of resignation which somehow, somewhere, you knew was from him, settled in your heart. 

— — — 

My dearest one my darling dear

He knew that voice…. And that tune. It was yours. You were singing your song. He’d know it anywhere. How often had he gone over it in his head since the day you sang it?

Wait…

It was and it wasn’t. It sounded the same but the words were different…it felt different. 

The tune seemed to surround him like a shroud. Grasping his heart. Squeezing it tight. Threatening to suffocate him where he laid.

It wasn’t fair…that you were killed. Your body lying motionless somewhere above him. He should be there crading you right now. Holding you. Reassuring you in your last breaths everything was going to be alright, only to see your eyebrow of disbelief and slight annoyance as you told him not to lie to you. He’d find some way to stop the blood; some way to keep you alive…or bring you back.

 He should have told you long ago how he felt about you. About how you were his dream. His soulmate. The only dance he wanted to dance. He wanted to crown you again like he once did with the flowers you liked best (how appropriately named now!) And now it was too late.

Your voice seemed to echo what was in his heart. But there was something about it that was so strange. Perhaps It was because he never heard you more sorrowful or angry than he ever remembered. 

It weighed on him; his heart threatening to break free from its cage with its violence. The heaviness that sunk in.

My mighty one has fallen

Images of Hunter laughing, smiling filled his mind. Unbidden, the flash of a vibroblade slashing countless enemies in smooth motions. The light of a yellow saber you loved that he used once when you both were pinned down and you tossed it to him in exchanges. The classic stance of a leader he always took, once on purpose, now out of habit.  

The children weep for their protector

Flashes of the Batch flashed before his eyes. Omega inconsolable. Wrecker no better. The sorrow and rage he knew so well in Crosshair that he abated whenever he could. Tech mumbling, lost. Echo kneeling, shoulders dropped, hands gripping his head wondering what he could have done better. 

The loved ones will be praying

He saw…you. For the first time ever with real grief and anger, yet something so soft he could have thought you loved him. You gripped at the wound in your side while your hand clutched at something else. He tried to focus on what he was seeing, zeroing in on your hand. You brought it up to your chest…gripping it like it was your lifeline, the only thing keeping you grounded to reality. 

The unmistakable strip of red fabric, painted with a skull. 

So we part again my love

He heard your real voice, strong and confident as ever, and realized it wasn’t in his head. Your voice rose above everything and rang out so clearly. He didn’t understand how it was possible but the realization hit Hunter that he was seeing your thoughts and hearing you as if you were one. Your voice was raw and agonized in pain as you called out. He resolved he’d get back to you at any cost. 

My darling one

As he climbed, dancing figures floated in his vision, a ghost of beauty; the phantom feeling of your hand on his haunted his mind. An invisible hand guiding him to the top, telling you where to place his grip safely. 

More memories came…strangely enough, strengthening him and not hindering. 

Late nights on the Marauder…special innocent moments he dared not dwell upon as such, in case you didn’t feel for him the way he felt for you. Slight touches of hand, secret knowing looks, late night conversations.

And so the gods above will bless thee…

A vision of his family happy, all together once more, as they should be, but in a place he did not know, yet felt like home. Crosshair pretending to be annoyed with a laughing Wrecker—though the traces of a smile could be seen, Tech rambling off some facts with a smile, Echo crossing his arms and making a sassing remark, Omega playing with all the friends she’s ever made and a few he didn’t even know. 

You and him.

Holding hands and beholding the family before them. 

So the song ended…As the high notes lingered in the air, voice carried softly in the gentle breeze, Hunter almost reached the top.

The song stopped but the music echoed from stone to stone and brick to brick as the musicians let the tune linger a little longer, hearts not ready to completely give up the melody. 

Your voice was gone. Your breath was gone, though you were driving it in heaves. Hunter was staring at you, and you at him. It was only the two of you. You, standing, blushing like a rose, questioning, uncertain. Him doing the same.

The chasm between you so far, yet only an arm’s reach away. Something so easily breached, yet near impossible to attain.

The final notes lingered, vibrato on the violin, a voice of the flute.

Hunter looked at you like he never did before, and your heart, for the first time began to hope, maybe, you could have a future. Perhaps he felt the same.

You had your eyes closed, trying to meditate. The air cooled and was a salve for your burning heart. It nipped at your nose and numbed your hands already, resting motionless on your thighs. You didn’t know how long you were kneeling there, still and silent, but your muscles felt stiff and unyielding. You knew you had to go, but you couldn’t. Not yet. You wanted to find him but something told you to stay a little longer yet. You didn’t know why, but you trusted anyway. 

Somewhere, a bird started singing its farewell to the day. A lone call, begging it’s partner to assure it, it was still there and would return to it soon. 

The single tune soon turned into a duet, and a smile tugged at your lips. You couldn’t help but feel everything would be ok.

The tune was beautiful, one you never heard before. You wondered if it was a mating song or perhaps these two in such perfect harmony knew each other so well they completed each other? 

In the cacophony of notes, you heard your name. 

Your eyes jolted open and you tripped over yourself.

The deep, husky voice couldn’t be real, could it? It was hard to tell because tears clouded your vision once more.

“Hunter? You’re alive! Hunter?!” You tried to get up, gasping at the pain you felt in your rush. Hunter was by your side in an instant. He fell to his knees, embracing you. All you could hear was your name repeated over and over with sobs in between loving gibberish coming from both of you. 

In a moment of silence, Hunter brought his forehead to yours, a smile tugging at his lips. He chuckled airily, a tear falling from his eyes.

“I thought I lost you…but then, your song…it gave me the strength to climb and find you.”

“You heard it?”

“Yeah.”

His eyes were closed contently, just basking in the feeling of you being there. His hand cradled your face, thumb gracefully stroking your cheek. You brought your hand up to his, entwining his fingers with your own. Bringing your clasped hands down to your heart, you brought your other behind his neck.

Seeking silent permission, looking into his eyes, you saw all your love reflected back at you. His gray eyes started to match yours, melting to brown and glowing with the golden sun finally defeating the storm. 

Hunter lowered his voice, lips next to your ear. It was nearly a whisper; his voice dry and wavering in the tumultuous emotion he was feeling. Yet despite that, it was the most beautiful you’d ever heard him sing. 

No scorching sun

Nor freezing cold

Will stop me on my journey

If you will promise me your heart

And love. And love me for eternity”

He didn’t have a wreath of flowers, but he did the next best thing. 

Untangling the cloth from your hands, he tied the red ribbon around your head, placing a gentle kiss on your crown.

It was your turn to huff. Your throat swollen with tears, yet your voice found a way.

My dearest one, my darling dear

Your mighty words astound me

But I've no need of mighty deeds

When I feel your arms around me

Hunter smiled, then wrapped his arms around you. You laughed fully now and giggled when he lifted you. 

And I would keep you from all harm

If you would stay beside me

You laid your head on his chest, all anxiety and pain replaced with peace and love..

I only want your hand to hold

I only want you near me

He wasn’t going to let you have the last word. 

I'll swim and sail on savage seas

With ne'er a fear of drowning

And gladly ride the waves of life

If you will marry me!

If you…..would marry me.

“Yes. Yes, please.”

“Thank you.”

“I love you.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2RdtQqWHLWw  song by Emma Amaya

[chirpsythismorning]

I just remembered they devoted a whole scene to Mike and Will burying a dead body for no reason other than to poke fun at—

[xiaohuayaos]

Honestly the reason the "love triangle" in lbfad works so well for me is easily because it's not completely lazy?

So many love triangles in romances are very clear cut and you can typically tell who is going to "win". Usually one pairing is written with far more care than the other, and for sure we get that with Dongfang Qingcang and Xiao Lanhua. They get the meat of the story, but regardless Changheng and Xiao Lanhua do have a really nice chemistry. When you watch them together you can easily see the alternate universe where this is a story about /their love/ There's just this genuine sweetness that aches from their early scenes together that makes it a little bit painful to watch- like I love.... the love between The Fairy and The Devil, I do. They have such great chemistry and they're so, so fun together-The difference of this cold and dark and brooding entity and the little flower spirit that charmed him is everything I could ask. It was never a question that I wanted to see them together in the end but there was still moments with Changheng that just made me go Oh, maybe it really will be him and her in the end...

then of course it doesnt happen. And I'm so happy to see my favourite duo together in the end, because they are just so good together, but its a little sad, too. I don't want Changheng to sit around with his heartbroken, I feel kind of terrible for him... and god if that isn't a better love triangle than I ever anticipated.

[urmomsmattress]

i was thinking of remadora and how they obviously loved each other but remus was gay asf right?

remus would do anything for sirius and it showed. and despite that, he loved grant SO MUCH but grant just wasn’t sirius.

grant made the decision to leave for the better of both of them. he didn’t want to make remus choose (he knew he would choose sirius) so he chose for the both of their sakes.

“After all that waiting, they hadn't had very long at all, in the end.”

so now grant was gone, and sirius was gone, and now what? bro falls in love with a woman?

i don’t doubt remus loved nymphadora because they had a kid together but i can’t help but to wonder if he felt the same way towards her that he did with sirius or grant.

even outside the atyd universe, just looking at headcanon, i find it hard to believe that remus was alone for 12 years, mourning the loss of his friends, the loss of his sirius, just for him to feel nothing when sirius returns, and marry off to his cousin after he dies.

in my head, despite canon, i like to believe that remus and tonks married for the sake of getting married. maybe that’s selfish of my wolfstar heart, but i think they’re both queer characters who got with each other for the sake of not being alone. i think they loved each other, but not for the sake of love.

it also doesn’t help that the sole reason remadora exists is because JK Rowling is an awful person and couldn’t stand the thought of a people shipping a queer couple of her creation. it throws a wrench in the beliefs of headcanon, and makes the story all the more complicated and equally tragic.

[bunnihearted]

ᯓ★

[just-sp-in-inginthevoid]

This manga sure was something

[evadneares]

I wonder how you are, and if you think of me as seriously as I think of you, and I wonder if you forget me sometimes only to be reminded by something mundane, because I see you when I see monolid eyes and sport cars and playgrounds and volleyballs, and I wish that I could forget you, but I can't, so I wonder if you think about me the way I do, if you want to escape the thought of me so bad but the world won't let you.