#OH GOD IT'S BEEN TEN YEARS SINCE I SHIP THEM

[miisart]

It’s not your fault, you stupid girl.

[derrygirlstrash]

Not to start shit, if you know me you know I'm a "ship and let ship" kinda gal and saying this I truly have no problem with James/Orla as a ship it harms no one and plenty of people like it, I like people having fun... that said...

I have never understood the common argument that James/Erin as a ship makes no sense and James/Orla should have been the ship instead. Often one of the arguments is that James/Erin wasn't set up while James/Orla was and I'm sorry... what? James/Erin have at least one ship heavy episode each season as well as plenty of background moments and several significant moments in Erin's Diary.

Even if you ignore all the background moments of the two holding hands, being inside each others personal space, the times where they're clearly matching and whatnot. There is at LEAST the implication that Erin would ignore her supposed crush for James, that she cares what he thinks, that Erin is James's type, that they're aligned in creative values and match each others energies, that Erin thinks he's handsome, that James thinks she's beautiful, that she can't imagine her life without him, etc.

James/Orla have some touchy moments... that's kinda all they have as far as romantic coding and I don't see how those two hugging in the Season 2 finale is somehow more significant than what setup James/Erin have throughout all the seasons.

Honestly, while I can see Orla liking James - you could build a case for it and convince me even though I see Orla as ace/aro in my own personal headcanons... no one has ever been able to give me a convincing argument for James liking Orla back. It kinda feels like you have to ignore that he never has a reason to fancy Orla back and just project onto him that.

Which, again, go off if that's your bag I think their friendship is fun and I could see making a ship out of it, but the common argument is that the SHOW makes a better case for James/Orla and like, no? No it really doesn't? It's just not main girl/main boy and some people really don't like that trope or Erin as a main and I think that if you say the show didn't set up James/Erin well and you argue the show would have been better with James/Orla based on what's in the show, you just might not like Erin very much?

I've also never been able to make sense of the argument that James/Erin is somehow the trope that 'guys and girls can't just be friends' like, is that not also James/Orla? Y'know, besides that Orla isn't a girl. They do use she/her during the show time period though and some people who argue this think Orla is a girl, they just think they're not THE girl. So somehow it's better even though it's the same thing.

Basically what I'm saying is that shipping is fun and we all oughta do it. Every ship besides the obvious ones is potentially fun and I'm down for it, but there is one ship the show was setting up and we all know what that ship was and I think it would be better if we all were honest about it.

PS: "James was gay the whole time!" Truthers, if you made it through this post somehow I'd like to offer a compromise: James Maguire is the most bisexual coded male character in media history we can all win here.

[diaryujin]

𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒

summary: ahn yujin was a name you didn't want to hear ever since your break up three months ago. sure, it hurt at first, but now you were okay, you were over her. until she gave you a letter.

genre: angsty fluff

includes: panic attacks (happens twice), parties, mentions of alcohol (reader doesn't drink) and making out, all of lsrfm and ive except leeseo and eunchae, lizrei side ship, reader is in denial, angst with a happy ending, exes to lovers, lmk if i missed anything

pairing: ex! yujin x ex! fem! reader

word count: 3.1k

a/n: this took way longer to type down than i'd like to admit

With shaking hands, Yujin gave you a small envelope before dashing off in the opposite direction. Your heart leaped as you guessed what it was.

Yujin was your ex. It had been three months since you both ended things. She told you that she didn’t feel like she was in the right mindset to continue being in a relationship anymore. While you were grateful that she didn’t just ghost or ignore you completely, damn right did that hurt. What was worse was how you couldn’t really blame anyone for this since it was no one’s fault.

You had moved on though. You had bandaged up your wounds, and the ghosts that haunted your which reminded you of her had been exorcised. 

You were ready for this letter, but you weren’t going to read it on campus. Shoving the envelope in your purse, you walked out. Autumn was evident — leaves were turning orange, brown and yellow, falling out of trees and flying away with the gentle, cool breeze. You pulled the beanie you were wearing more over your ears, not wanting them to go cold. The sound of soft, calming music playing in your earphones accompanying the visual treat your eyes got to see made you smile to yourself and momentarily forget about Yujin and her letter. Upon reaching your dorm, you took out the dorm key and unlocked it, seeing the living room pristine as usual. Trust Rei and Wonyoung for that. You went into your room, which was a stark contrast. Throwing your purse and bag onto your bed, you flopped into your chair in front f your desk exhausted. It was a Friday, which meant that you had the weekend to do your work (or procrastinate), so you stayed in your chair in an odd position, almot like a ragdoll.

Your eyes darted to your purse and you sighed.

Yujin.

‘Curiosity killed the cat,’ a voice in your head said.

‘But satisfaction brought it back,’ another one argued.

You reached out for your purse. If you didn’t read it, you’d be in the dark about what Yujin wanted to tell you, and it’d be rude to ignore her and what she wanted to say. Your fingers traced the edges of the white envelope, as if scared to read the contents. Slowly peeling off the seal, you undid the flap and pulled out the paper inside. You unfolded it carefully, heart beating quic-

“Y/N, Y/N, me and Wonyoung are going to the mall to get some new clothes. There’s a limited edition collection. You coming?”

This could wait. A distraction was exactly what you needed.

“Sure. Give me ten minutes to get ready.”

“The outfit you came back in is fine.”

“Bu- Wait, you saw me?”

“Duh?”

“Oh. Alright then.”

Placing the envelope in your desk drawer, you took your purse again, before opening the door of your room. Rei and Wonyoung were waiting in the living room, Rei giggling at her phone and Wonyoung teasing her about it. Their outfits fit them and their personality perfectly, and for a minute you felt self conscious. Their fashion sense was to die for.

“Ah, Y/N! Ready?”

“Yep. Wonyoung, I really like your shirt. It’s cute.”

She smiled sweetly at you.

“Thank you. Yujin bought it for me.”

Your face froze at the mention of her, and Wonyoung (being the caring person she is) immediately apologized.

“Ah, sorry. I know things aren’t all…smooth sailing…with you guys.”

She grimaced at her own mistake, but you didn’t notice. You were thinking about the letter, and your mind was tracing back to the memories of the year you were together, and oh God, oh God-

“Y/N?”

You could feel her hands on your shoulders, concerned eyes looking down at you.

“You’re shaking…”

She hugged you tight in a moment so rapid you barely felt it. Her arms wrapped around you protectively, one of her hands patting your head like a mother comforting her child. Rei was nearby too. You didn’t see their faces, since your eyes were closed shut so that you could prevent your tears from falling, but you could hear Rei softly talking and reassuring you that everything was okay, a stark contrast to how she usually was.

“Y/N, listen to Wonyoung’s breathing, okay? In and out…in and out. That’s it, that’s it. Nothing’s going to happen, you’re just fine.

They didn’t know what else to say. Neither of you did anything wrong, and Yujin was their friend too. It was a confusing thing to handle.

“Y/N, how do you feel now? Do you still want to come?”

“Yeah. Need to take my mind off things.”

“You sure?”

“Mm.”

“Not a clear answer.”

“I am.”

Rei sighed before nodding.

“If you’re okay.”

Five hours.

You were at the mall for five hours.

And it sure as hell did take your mind off things.

There you were in your room — stomach satisfied, bags with clothes, stationary and other random items (maybe a plushie or two) in the corner, yet your mind was still restless. Delaying the reading of the letter was not a good idea, since now you had even more nerves than before. You had to open it at some point, but holy shit could you just not do it? You took out the paper inside and unfolded it slowly, your hands shaking as much as Yujin’s when she gave it to you.

Dear Y/N,

It’s been three months. I thought I moved on, really.

As I write this to you, I realize I haven’t.

I’m not asking you to take me back, but I can’t sleep properly at night because I think about you and cry so much.

~ Yujin

Your eyes widened, and your jaw dropped. You thought you had healed, but this? These three sentence ripped off the bandages and rubbed salt into the wounds in your heart. You put the paper on your desk, wanting to process what you just ‘blessed’ your sight with, although your brain begged you to read it again. In the end, you gave in and read through it again.

And again.

And again.

And then it hit.

Yujin still loved you. It was so simple with the way she wrote it, but due to the shock factor, it didn’t click.

Yujin still loved you.

No wonder she was shaking.

There was another question — did you still love her too?

Didn’t you move on?

Didn’t you?

Or had you been lying to yourself this whole time?

Leaning back in your chair, you started thinking. You would think about her every night, every time you were bored, every time you were free, every time you were stressed — basically, all the time. You’d think about how she’d hold you, comfort you, hug you, kiss you, cuddle you, talk to you, laugh with you, cry in front of you, vent to you…and more.

Whenever you found yourself in an unideal situation, your mind always darted back to Yujin. ‘What would Yujin do?’ was something you’d ask yourself when you were in hot waters. 

Maybe you weren’t over her.

Maybe you still needed her.

Scratch that maybe.

You still loved her.

This realization — this enlightenment — shook you to the core.

The world was spinning around you. You desperately needed her. You needed her with you, to hug you, to calm you down and to tell you that everything was going to be alright. 

But she wasn’t here, she wasn’t here.

Interrupting the loud and muddled thoughts in your brain causing havoc was a soft knock at your door. 

“Y/N-ah? Can I come in?”

Hastily shoving the envelope and letter in your drawer, you call out.

“Sure, Rei!”

You saw the door handle slowly move, and the girl entered. Her eyes scanned the room, before finding a spot to sit on your bed. You tried to act cool, willing your eyes away from the drawer.

“Y/N, how are you feeling now?”

“What do you mean?”

“A lot, honestly- but right now I’m referring to the slight panic attack you had earlier…?”

“Oh, that. I’m fine, I swear. Yujin’s name just brought back back memories, and- I don’t really know.”

She nodded, her face making it evident that she was lost in her thoughts.

“So the reason I came here is to ask you something.”

“Go on.”

“There’s a party happening tomorrow evening Wonyoung’s not going because she wants to complete her assignments, and I don’t want to go alone…”

She pursed her lips into a thin line and looked at you, a tad bit of hope in her eyes.

“I mean, sure.”

“It’s going to be in Yujin’s dorm…Gaeul and Chaewon are hosting it. I’m pretty sure that Yujin won’t be coming out of her room though.”

That made you freeze. Even though Rei had mentioned that it was unlikely that you’d see her, there was still a chance you would.

Did you want to risk it?

Rei had no one else.

Things could either go spectactularly right or horribly wrong.

“I’ll come.”

“Sure?”

“Sure.”

“You’re sure sure?”

“I’m sure sure.”

You laughed a little, and she smiled too.

“Tomorrow, 7 p.m. Wear something…party-ish, but not too formal, I guess? You know what I mean.”

“Yup.”

6:45 p.m.

You were sitting on the couch of the living room, wearing an outfit you deemed appropriate for the party. Rei was still getting ready in her room, so to pass the time you were on your phone, scrolling through your Instagram feed.

Chaewon. Like, comment.

Gaeul. Like, comment.

Wonyoung. Like, comment.

Jiwon, Rei. Like, comment, cute.

Yujin.

She didn’t post anything fancy or pictures of her going outside or having fun.

It was just selcas of her wearing her new headphones. She had her favorite lipgloss on, her hair was in a bun and she was wearing her glasses in the pictures.

10 minutes ago.

She probably wasn’t going to be in the party then, since her outfits for parties were completely different.

You should have been sighing in relief, but no — you felt your heart sink from disappointment.

Yet, you were staring at the pictures. She looked adorable, and she was smiling brightly in the last picture, and damn it you were falling for her all over again.

If you weren’t down bad before, this cemented it.

You wanted to see her smile, you wanted to see her face right in front of yours, not on an Instagram picture that didn’t fully capture and present her beauty. You wanted to see her laugh because of you. You wanted her to be with you, and it hurt.

You quickly turned off your phone as you heard footsteps. Rei came in, shining with excitement. She looked stunning. You grinned at her.

“Trying to impress someone?”

Her face turned red, and she looked away from you.

“Uh…um…”

“Is Jiwon coming? Your precious Liz?”

She was cosplaying a tomato at this point, giving you your answer. Liz was a nickname for Jiwon that only Rei had permission to use, and bringing it up was how you could squeeze stuff out of either of them that they were unwilling to divulge at first.

“She is, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Cute. Love the Instagrm post too, by the way.”

“You saw-?”

“Of course.”

“Y/N…”

“I’m not stalking you both! I follow you girls, remember?”

She sighed.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. We should get going now, it’s 6:57.”

You realized how quickly time passed while you were staring at Yujin’s pictures. You stood up and walked out the door, not really expecting anything.

When you reached, the strong smell of alcohol hit your nostrils and you winced, not really liking it. You couldn’t back out now, however, so you just shrugged it off before sitting on the couch in the middle of the living room as people danced, socialized and drank all around you.

You didn’t know anyone at the party on a close basis save for Gaeul, Chaewon, Sakura, Yunjin, Kazuha and of course Rei. You preferred to keep your circle of friends relatively small so that you wouldn’t be involved in any drama, although you liked hearing about it. You always thought it worked effectively, but now you were wondering what it’d be like to be on the dance floor with a few other friends.

Chaewon and Gaeul came over and talked to you at some point, but they had to leave after a while since they were the hosts and had attend to other guests. Chaewon told you that Yunjin and Kazuha didn’t want to come. Sakura was busy, so she couldn’t. Just like Wonyoung, you couldn’t help but think.

You were thirsty and they had arranged some juice in the corner for those who didn’t want to drink. You got off the couch, deciding to let the couple making out nearby have some space. You went over to the table with the juice, and you took a bit of time to choose what you wanted to drink. As you were troubling yourself with this very hard choice, you heard a quiet and groggy voice right behind you.

“Hey, can you pass me a cup of apple juice?”

Extremely familiar voice. Your fingers gripped the plastic cup in your hand tighter.

“Yu…Yujin?”

You turned around, and your guess was right.

There she was in full glory.

She had those headphones on, and was wearing an oversized shirt and sweatpants that looked comfy. You subconsciously tugged at the collar of your dress. Her hair was ruffled, and her eyes were red and puffy along with her face looking sullen, making it obvious that she had been crying before.

“Y-Y/N? I’m sorry, I-I’ll just get-get it my-myself-”

“No, it’s…fine. Apple juice, right?”

The tension was so thick that your 3rd grade English teacher’s ass was (quite literally) shaking. She nodded, and watched you pour her a cup. You could feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to say something, and you guessed that it was about the letter.

Suddenly, you could feel her hand on your shoulder, before she gently pulled you close to her as she wrapped her arms around you in one of her familiar and comforting hugs. Her hand was in your hair, stroking it.

“Come, let’s go to my room. I’ll help you calm down.”

You didn’t say anything in protest, instead simply allowing her to take you. The two of you went inside her dorm room, and she closed the door, locking it. Your eyes darted around the four walls you were in, and your mind flashed with memories of that whole year you both had. You set free the tears trapped in the prison that was your eyes. She hugged you tightly again, her voice soothing.

“Y/N, darling, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’m sorry.”

The petname she reserved for you, ‘darling’, slipped out of her mouth, as she always used to use that with you. She froze for a moment, but as she saw that you had no reaction to it, she relaxed. Back then she could call you that unabashedly, but now she had to be careful. You didn’t care though, you loved the way it rolled off her tongue.

After a few minutes, you had finally calmed down. You looked at the plastic cup in your hand, noticing that it was now half empty. You were sure that it was nearly filled to the brim before though. Your eyes trailed to Yujin’s shirt and you saw a few stains on it, solving the mystery of the missing juice. Were your hands really shaking that much?

“Um…sorry about the juice on your shirt.”

“Nevermind it. How do you feel now?”

You slowly moved the cup — now only contaning half of its previous content — to her free hand, but she gently pushed it back and tilted your hand upward, towards your face.

“You drink it.”

“But-”

“Drink.”

She smiled a little at you, and you were mesmerized. You probably looked like an idiot right now, gaping at your ex, but could you really care? She was here, in front of you, smiling at you, and your eyes darted to her lips almost instinctively, missing how they felt on yours.

“Y/N, how do you feel now?”

Obviously, you couldn’t stare forever.

“Better. Thanks Yujin, you…really helped.”

She tilted her head at you endearingly in her usual manner, her smile getting wider, although there was some sadness behind it.

"I missed you."

Her eyes widened, her facial features rearranged into surprise, confusion and a tiny bit of hope.

“You…missed me?”

You looked at your fingers, fiddling with them nervously. 

“Uh…sorry if it was a bit inappropriate to say rig-”

“No, no, no- don’t apologize, Y/N.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t mind.”

Her eyes looked deeply into yours, searching for something, searching for an answer. You knew what she wanted, and you took a deep breath.

“I…I read your letter.”

Her eyes widened, and her fingers intertwined with your desperately. You missed the feeling of her hand fitting perfectly into yours badly, and you didn’t realize that until now.

“And…? I’m not going to react harshly to anything you say, I just-just need an ans-”

“I want you back.”

Her eyes were about to pop out of their sockets at this point. Her face was full of disbelief.

“Re…Really?”

“Yeah.”

Gently taking the plastic cup from your hand before setting it on the nightstand near her bed (one you remembered well), she held the other hand too, a silly little smile on her face.

“Y/N, you don’t have to if you don’t wan-”

“But I do. I want you. I want whatever we had. I need it all back.”

Her smile reached her eye, squeezing out a few tears. One of her hands moved from yours to cup your cheek. 

“Thank you for giving me another chance, Y/N darling. I was scared of what you’d say, if I’ll be honest.”

You smiled at the familiar nickname, and inched a bit closer until your foreheads were touching. She giggled softly, a sound that warmed your heart.

In a quick movement, you felt her lips on yours in a small yet delicate peck, as if anything more would make you break. She pulled back, looking away shyly. Your eyes were wide, and your face was frozen in shock. Your lips were parted slightly for a moment, before you put a hand on her shirt collar and tugged it, making her jerk forward so that her lips could meet yours again. 

Just like that, you both were back in the old times.

[tennessoui]

hi kit i swear to god someone sent in 35 from the prompt list for 'one of them is trying to get the other off of drugs' but someone must have deleted the ask from your ask box.

oh no! who could have done such a thing. after i already wrote 3k for this prompt and everything!

(but in seriousness i KNOW someone sent me that prompt i just can't find it rn!!! but i enjoyed writing this so much it really literally could be the first chapter of a multi-chapter fic......we'll see)

(also this is what i wrote for the same prompt from a few years ago)

35. one of them is trying to get the other off of drugs

(3k) (warning: non con drugging/attempted date rape drugs used -not by main characters)

Obi-Wan’s got a heavy mind most days. Heavy heart too, but it’s been a while since he checked in with that part of himself. Mind’s easier.

Right now, he’s mostly annoyed at the cantina crowd, but that’s a most days thing too. After all, the cantina’s in the middle of the spaceport, best watering hole around. Only watering hole around, really, and it gets him all sorts of people walking through his doors.

Some days, he really wishes Linell’s hadn’t closed, mostly so he could send the roughest looking folk that way instead. He doesn’t care much if smugglers decide to get wasted at a bar before hopping in the cockpit of their ships, but he doesn’t necessarily want it to happen at his cantina.

Mostly because when smugglers get drunk, they get rowdy. They get dangerous. They get handsy.

And Obi-Wan’s not under any sort of illusion here, he knows what sort of cantina he runs, knows the crowd it attracts, knows no one’s ever gonna bring their youngling past the doors—knows that no Jedi is ever going to stop in for a drink. 

But that doesn’t mean he’s going to allow for that sort of ruckus. The Temple raised him better than that, for whatever that’s worth. They instilled a pretty solid understanding of morality in him at a young age; then the AgriCorps gave him an appreciation of organization and tidiness that even after two decades away from it all, he hasn’t managed to shake.

It makes for bad business anyway, to allow the rougher-looking crowd to linger in the back corner, swat at the passing serving girl, call out harassments to other customers. And perhaps this wasn’t the life Obi-Wan thought he’d have, but it’s the life he does have. And he’s in no mood for his cantina to go under as well because of morons like Chak Tuuel getting too drunk and causing a scene.

It was easier four years ago, Obi-Wan has to admit. It was easier to keep a tight hold on his cantina when he could openly use the Force to pull patrons off of each other, push one back to his chair and spirit the other to the far side of the room. It was easier when all it took to convince a pirate that he’d be better switching to water was a well-placed Force command.

But the rise of the Empire saw the criminalization of Force users, even ones who can’t be called Jedi, like Obi-Wan.

It’s been bad for business, the Empire has. That’s the only thing Obi-Wan cares about, the only reason he has to hold such hatred in his heart for the emperor. It has nothing to do with the massacre of the Jedi, the fall of the Temple. It’s because it’s bad for business. That’s all.

Now he has to be ten times more discerning about who he lets into his cantina because he has to actually reason with them now. On more than one occasion in the past four years, since the Fall of the Temple, he’s chopped off a patron’s hand. Arm. Whatever. 

That’s also bad for business in general, though it’s not as if he can actually get into much trouble for it, considering he owns this cantina. And it’s the Outer Rim. Anything goes.

His eyes survey the cantina as his hands busy themselves making a drink for a rather quiet patron at the bar. Most likely a businessman of some sort, given how often Obi-Wan’s seen him come in and out.

It’s rather late in the night, as much as there is a night at the spaceport. The cantina’s full of the usual sorts, and the place is loud. There’s a group of five men in the back, dressed like smugglers. Obi-Wan has been watering down their drinks for the last two rounds, but they’ve yet to notice. Their eyes are ravenous as they look around them. Most of them are big, all are human. There’s one small one amongst the pack, and it’s him that Obi-Wan’s eyes stick to.

There’s something about him. Maybe it’s the way he holds himself, tense and with his shoulder hunched. Maybe it’s because of how smaller he is than the companions he’s chosen. Maybe it’s because he’s so pretty.

Even from all the way across the cantina, Obi-Wan knows the boy is pretty, can see his pale pink lips and dark golden curly hair. He doesn’t look like the sort of person who tends towards the crowds of pirates and smugglers that populate the back corners of Obi-Wan’s cantina. He looks out of place, misplaced. 

Sith’s hells, Obi-Wan probably looks more like a smuggler than this boy. Even the scar across his face, through his eyebrow and trailing down his cheek does little to make the boy look dangerous. Even his outfit—a black cloak on top of other, darker clothes—cannot make him look as dangerous as the men around him.

But they had come in as a pack, the boy in the middle of them. It had been the boy who had talked with the serving girl, Challa, who sat them. It had been him who’d ordered the first round of drinks.

The Force is screaming, a loud reverberation of a warning filling up his head and making the beginnings of his headache twenty times worse.

If someone dies tonight in Obi-Wan’s cantina, Obi-Wan is going to make Challa fill out the flimsiwork. It would be what she deserves for allowing this crowd in.

A moment before Obi-Wan looks away, the boy looks up from his drink and catches him staring. His face freezes as it is, held tight as he looks at Obi-Wan looking at him. For a strange moment, it looks like his eyes flash gold before they fall away, attention grabbed by the kid next to him.

Obi-Wan’s own attention is claimed a moment later.

“Whatcha looking at, boss?” the second bartender on shift asks, resting their arms on the counter beside him. “You look mighty disgruntled.”

“So you thought adding yourself to the situation would help,” he says automatically, caustically as he turns away from the group to stare at his employee. “Naturally.” “Naturally,” Saak agrees with a pointy smile. “I’m a saint.”

“Hm,” Obi-Wan says, even though he quite likes working with the twi’lek. These days, Obi-Wan keeps much close to his chest—especially his affection.

“That’s not an answer to my question,” Saak points out, looking back out at the cantina. “Who’s caught your eye? Because me and the crew in the back have a bet going about if you’re ever going to take someone home.” “I don’t mix business and pleasure,” Obi-Wan says, eyes staying resolutely away from the boy’s table.

“See, that’s part of the bet,” Saak says, easy as anything. “We don’t think you have pleasure.”

Obi-Wan frowns and turns to look at them fully. “What.”

Saak shrugs. “I don’t think I’ve seen you smile once, and I’ve worked here for three years. You don’t come out with us after work, you throw out every comm sequence customers leave you-–and trust me, I know there’s been a lot, you never mention anyone at home. In your personal life.”

“I enjoy a healthy amount of privacy,” Obi-Wan snaps, clenching his fists tight on the towel between his hands before he carefully tosses his irritation into the Force.

He understands almost immediately that his anger isn’t even at Saak for prying or at his employees for gossiping.

It’s because he knows Saak is right. Not about—well, not about abstaining from sex, as Obi-Wan gets a rather sizable amount of sex at any given time. But about the distance. The lack of pleasure. Even the sex doesn’t light him up the way it did when he was seventeen, fresh from leaving the Agricorps and setting out across the stars. A consequence of age probably.

“Hey,” Saak’s tone changes, turning from cajoling employee into something much more concerned. “That table in the back, look—I don’t think that guy is doing alright.”

Obi-Wan snaps out of his thoughts instantly and looks at where Saak’s gesturing.

He knows before he even sees them that it’s that Force forsaken table in the back.

And Saak’s right, shit.

The boy Obi-Wan had been staring at looks—looks rough suddenly. His head is reclining back onto the body of the man beside him, eyes half-lidded. He’s flushed a flattering red, lips parted and stained an even darker color.

He could just be feeling the effects of the alcohol he’s been consuming for the past hour now, but it’s the way his companions look at him that has Obi-Wan rounding the bar and crossing the cantina. They look hungry. Eager. Anticipatory.

In the Force, the boy’s muted presence has become fuzzy. Muted.

Of course the moment Obi-Wan turns his gaze away from the group, they drug the boy. It suddenly seems so inevitable that it’s almost funny. Of course this was going to happen. 

“What did you give him,” he demands as he reaches the table. The anger licking at his chest is new. Useful. Righteous. 

One of the smugglers, the one next to the boy, tosses him a sleazy grin, wrapping his arm around the boy’s shoulder. “No need to kick us out, mister,” he says. “We were just leaving.”

“Yes, you were,” Obi-Wan nods sharply. “Without him.”

The smuggler’s grin slides off his face. “He came with us.”

“You drugged him!” 

The boy in question looks up at Obi-Wan as much as he can with his eyes half-way to shut. “Oh,” he says. “That’s what it is.”

His voice is slow and deep. A byproduct of the drug?

He blinks at him in syrupy slowness, and his eyes are tawny. Why had Obi-Wan thought they were blue from across the cantina? They shine golden now.

Something about his eyes, his face, the way he’s looking at Obi-Wan makes his thin sense of control snap. “You will leave now,” he commands, Force reverberating through the words, so strong that the smugglers stand to attention immediately, repeating the order mindlessly. 

Even the boy struggles to obey, pushing up on his feet in drunken surety. 

“Not you,” Obi-Wan snaps. The boy sits back down like his strings have been cut, a sigh of relief at the release.

It’s entirely too orgasmic to be appropriate. 

And the way the boy looks up at him is entirely too trusting for someone who’s just been drugged by his companions. 

“I hope you have another form of transportation off here,” Obi-Wan says with a sigh. “I imagine you will not want to travel with them tomorrow.” “I’ll kill ‘em,” the boy mumbles, letting his head fall back.

“Sure, kid,” Obi-Wan tells him. He looks like he couldn’t hurt a fly, let alone kill a man, but he’s also not entirely sure the boy would appreciate him pointing that out. He looks like a kid who’s decided to try and play outlaw.

This is what happens to kids who try to play outlaw, he thinks dispassionately.

“Not a kid,” the kid says.

“Sure, kid.” He’ll need water. Obi-Wan grabs at his chin and forces his eyes up. His pupils are so dilated it’s hard to even see what color his irises are. Paired with the flushed cheeks, the poor coordination, and the slurred but cohesive speech, Obi-Wan’s pretty sure he knows what sort of spice they used on the poor kid. 

And the comedown is legendary for how rough it is.

Obi-Wan barely resists the urge to sigh. It’s even harder to resist the urge to scream.

He hates the men who laced the boy’s drink. He hates Challa for letting the group of men into his cantina, thereby making this his problem. He hates Vynny for crashing his speeder and forcing Obi-Wan to cover his shift while he recuperates from the loss of both legs.

And he hates the fucking ghost of the Jedi Order for instilling in him the importance of doing the right thing.

“You’re coming home with me,” he says, unable to stop himself from sighing.

The boy blinks at him. “If you touch me, I’ll kill you too,” he warns, but his eyes are still much too trusting. “Slowly.” “Noted,” Obi-Wan snaps, reaching down to fish the boy out of the booth. “And when you’re sober again, you’re going to be paying for the entire tab you and your lot racked up.”

The boy pouts, even as he allows Obi-Wan to drag him to his feet. “What if I let you touch me instead?” “I don’t want to touch you,” Obi-Wan says. “I want the credits.” The boy giggles and presses his face against his neck. Obi-Wan waves to Saak behind the bar, gesturing to the boy and then to the doors, trying to convey I’m going home to take care of this absolute youngling because I am a better person than you and you need to take care of my cantina and lock up behind you and no, this does not count as taking a customer home with me.

Saak gives him two thumbs up, so Obi-Wan is hoping that means the message has been received. It had better be received.

“What’s your name, kid?” he asks as he navigates out of the cantina. Thank the Force, his own cruiser is close. The boy is heavier and bigger than he’d looked amongst the rest of his group. Firmer and more weighted with muscle. And Obi-Wan is no waif, but he doesn’t care to lug around a man who is actually, well. Taller than him.

“Vader,” the boy mumbles, nuzzling into Obi-Wan’s touch. “Why do you feel so good?”

“It’s the spice they gave you,” Obi-Wan mutters. “Makes touch feel good, makes you…want.”

“Oh,” Vader says, rubbing his face against Obi-Wan’s neck like a cat. “I don’t want it.” “Me neither, kid,” he assures him, propping him up against the side of his ship so he can unlock it and key in the code to have the ramp descend.

“Good,” Vader says. “Keep touching me.”

Obi-Wan bites his lip so he doesn’t tell the kid that he doesn’t take commands, not even from imperious little boys who sound as if they’re very used to being obeyed.

It adds more evidence to his theory that Vader is some spoiled rich kid looking to rebel.

“What were you even doing with them?” He mutters as he drops Vader into the seldom-used co-pilot seat of his ship. “Not the sort you’d want to hang around with, are they?” “Bellion,” Vader replies loosely, waving a weak hand. “As’ —assign—assignm’nt.”

It takes through takeoff for Obi-Wan to realize what he’s said. “The Rebellion? You were on an assignment for the rebellion?” Vader makes a noise and turns his head to look at him, eyes almost shut. “Bellion,” he agrees, before promptly passing out.

“Huh,” Obi-Wan says.

Of course he knew that there was a rebellion against the empire, that they were building in both power and numbers as the years grew. He’d even flirted with the notion of joining it himself, but he’d always stepped back. The rebellion was too close to the Jedi. And the Jedi had made it clear that they did not want him.

Why would the rebellion be any different?

When he’s entered hyperspace, he looks over at the boy who has turned his head away from him, exposing the long lines of his neck.

He really is quite beautiful, for better or for worse.

The boy shifts, restless. He pushes himself further into the seat, leaning back and spreading his legs. Obi-Wan would wonder what he’s dreaming about, but before he can, the boy’s cloak shifts.

And there, on his hip. The handle of a lightsaber.

Obi-Wan is moving before he can help it, stepping over to Vader’s side of the ship quietly, eyes glued to the ‘saber.

It’s been so long since he’s seen one. He never got to hold his own. Never made one himself.

But here is one now, on Vader’s hip. Vader is a Jedi. A Jedi! 

It is part greed, part agony, and part disbelief that makes Obi-Wan reach his hand out and carefully detach the blade from Vader’s belt.

The boy does not even notice, except to push his hip up further at the ghost of Obi-Wan’s touch.

It’s a heavy weight in Obi-Wan’s hand, and he takes a moment to just—look at it. It’s darker than he would have crafted his own, sturdier and longer too, as if Vader wields it with two hands. He probably does—Obi-Wan still remembers his forms, remembers each stance down to the footwork. Vader has the body to be a formidable Djem’So user. Or Atari. Obi-Wan had favored the latter when he was an Initiate. 

Vader is a Jedi. Perhaps—perhaps in the morning, after the spice is out of his system, he can tell Obi-Wan about the Temple in its final days. Surely he was not there, Obi-Wan doesn’t know how anyone could have survived the massacre, but he must know. He does not truly look so young that he would have been an Initiate. He must have been a Knight.

Perhaps Obi-Wan will tell him about being raised there. He can share in his pain, if only a little bit. After all, Obi-Wan spent thirteen years of his life at the Temple. The Jedi will always hold a part of his heart. He has never before wanted to admit that, but now—Vader is a Jedi. He would understand. 

Obi-Wan’s mouth is dry as he drops his gaze back to the saber.

He wants suddenly, terribly, to flick it on. To hear the buzz of the ions of the blade. To see the color of Vader’s kyber crystal. He wants to take pleasure from the sight of it, the enduring symbol of it, of the Order.

He knows he should not. He knows he has no right to it. If he were meant to hold a lightsaber, his life would have worked out in thirteen thousand different ways. 

But—Vader is asleep.

And no one would have to know.

If just for a second, Obi-Wan allowed himself to give into his want.

He flicks it on and then almost drops it from the sheer surprise he feels as it powers to life in his hands.  Because the blade is not green. It isn’t blue. It isn’t even purple, like he remembers Master Windu’s being.

It is a sickly looking red.

It is not a blade of a Jedi.

Obi-Wan flicks it off and tucks it back onto Vader's belt. Then he sits down in the pilot's chair once more, head spinning and heart racing.

And he directs the ship to drop out of hyperspace to his homeplanet anyway because---well. What else can he do? He'd promised to take the boy home and see him off the spice.

The fact that the boy is---is a Sith does not change anything. It cannot.

[cushfuddled]

I wish I didn't hate Ed and Stede but here we are I guess

I didn't have time to put a section about this in my review (since it would add another ten minutes onto a fifty minute video hhhhh) but I just gotta take a second and vent about how much I dislike Stede and Ed in season two.

When I watched season two for the first time, I assumed I didn't ship Gentlebeard anymore because I'd...I dunno...gotten bored of the ship or whatever. But when I went back to rewatch season one, I was immediately sucked back into the Ed/Stede jet engine. I loved them through the finale, up until around the middle of season two...at which point I became totally disinterested again.

Even going back through season one clips for this review...the chemistry is soooo strong for me. The only time I got that feeling from season two was like, from the mermaid scene and the finger-stacking scene.

And I honestly think my disinterest stems from the fact that I can't stand Ed and Stede as characters anymore. They're dicks in season one, but ANNOYING dicks in season two, and I guess I just...don't ship characters who make me want to tear my hair out.

In season two, Ed behaves like a petulant five year old with a gun. It's so "say sorry to your friend right now!" "I don't wanna! :(" followed by a stint in the time out chair and a mumbled non-apology. For all of season two, Ed behaves like a spoiled brat, and I really can't stand it.

My friend pointed out that Ed is in a position where he needs to reparent himself. His emotional development likely stopped around the time he killed his dad (when he was still a kid). No one modeled healthy behavior and emotional regulation for Ed past the age of...maybe fifteen? So of course he's gonna behave like a kid. It's gonna be a long road for Ed to learn these regulating strategies as an adult, and I guess...hhhhhh.

None of Ed's trauma excuses Ed from torturing and traumatizing his crew. It feels shitty to find a deeply traumatized character's behavior "annoying," but...I mean. I say this as someone who's experienced suicide ideation myself: Ed isn't real, and I'm not Ed's friend, and so I don't really feel obligated to extend patience and understanding to a fictional construct when that construct spends 90% of his screen time behaving like a stuck up, self-obsessed, capricious, whiny, murderous asshole.

Add season-two-Stede to the mix and CHRIST...Stede—like Ed—was always a dick, but the way he encouraged Lucius to divulge his trauma only to react with cartoonish disgust, cower like a cornered animal, and then flee while begging Lucius to be quiet...

Then Stede decides to veto the crew's decision to ban Ed—their abuser—from the ship ("talk it through as a crew" my ass)...? Oh, and gotta love how Stede-"I've been the cause of death. It changes you"-Bonnet sets a guy on fucking fire and laughs, then kills a bunch of English soldiers with nary a backward glance. Okay. Would've loved some kind of exploration re: that major heel turn, but fine. And then Ed and Stede stand over Izzy's grave—the (mutilated) body of their dear friend and crewmate—and their combined eulogy amounts to "He was tense. Very tense." "Yeah, he was a fucking nightmare. What a guy." How endearing. Season two turned these two bastards (affectionate) into bastards (derogatory) for me and I'm still salty about it. God DAMMIT.

[schrijverr]

You Don’t Know Me, But I Know You 2

Chapter 2 out of 6

5 times Tim showed he stalked Robin + 1 time Jason did

Inspired by this post of thecrazyleader.

On AO3.

Ships none

Warnings: none

~~~~

2. A Familiar Password

“Fuck, I need some of the case files on the Crawfort case, but I haven’t digitized them yet,” Dick’s voices comes over the coms. “I’m on a stakeout and can’t go get them. Can anyone go pick ‘em up and bring them to me?”

“I’m out and about. I can swing by, no problem,” Tim replies.

“Pff, out and about, are you a grandpa?” Steph snorts.

Tim graciously ignores her as he asks: “Which safe house?”

“The one in Cobble Hill, on the border with East Park Side,” Dick answers. “Do you know it?”

“Oh, yeah, that one. I know where that is,” Tim says.

In the moment, Dick thinks nothing of it, turning back to his stakeout. He listens to Tim drive, before coming to a halt. As Tim walks up the stairs to the safe house, Dick starts: “The spare key is-”

“Behind the hallway radiator, I know,” Tim cuts him off, as there is an audible click of the lock. “Is the safe still in the cupboard with the sink?”

“Y- Yeah, how did you know that?” Dick asks, though he doesn’t wait for a reply. “The password is 493117.”

“Still?” Tim’s voice comes out highly judgmental. “You’ve had that password for this safe since you bought it, that’s terrible security!”

“What?” Dick chokes.

“Really? You know how B gets about security, did you ever pay attention?” Jason asks.

“Yeah, like I know password updates suck, but that’s excessive,” Steph agrees, always ready to get on the gossip or shade train. “When did you buy that thing again?”

“Ten years ago!” Dick exclaims. “Which is why he can’t possibly know that. I haven’t even had anyone over in that safe house.”

“Nah, but you aren’t very good at shrugging off a tail, especially at the end of your Robin days, you were fucking cocky back then,” Tim says casually. “Besides, this safe is, like, in full view of the window and you don’t really check if anyone is watching. Again, terrible security.”

“Oh my god, is this from your stalking days?” Steph asks.

“Baby Bird, don’t spread lies, I’m great at shrugging tails,” Dick whines. “And I wasn’t cocky.”

“You were definitely cocky and very annoying,” Jason pipes up. “But I do have to say, Timbo, that is very fucking creepy. You were just following us home and peaking through our windows?”

“I didn’t do it to your homes, Jason, just safe houses. I wanted to know what you were working on,” Tim says, an eye roll obvious.

“No names on the coms,” Bruce reminds them, suddenly speaking up where he’d been silent throughout the previous interactions.

“Don’t you have anything to say about this? Replacement just confessed to peaking through our windows,” Jason says indignantly.

“Not your windows, just this one safe house,” Tim complains. “And it’s not even that much of a safe house, I found it when I was eight.”

“I don’t have anything to say, no. Like all of you, I already know of Red Robin’s previous occupation,” Bruce answers, obviously trying to stay neutral enough so he won’t get caught up in a war between his children. “It’s in the files, if any of you bothered to read those.”

“This is so unfair,” Dick whines.

“You have a file on RR’s stalker behavior, since when? Why didn’t you tell me about that, oh sweet ex of mine?” Steph asks.

“Oh shut up,” Tim mutters, embarrassed. Before he swiftly changes the conversation: “Nightwing, en route to your location. File obtained.”

[illarian-rambling]

@davycoquette with the fun question games again!

Get to Know the Writblr

Gonna put this under a cut because it got long, but feel free to treat this as an open tag if you want to hop on!

On the Tumblr Writing Community:

How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr?

Since the beginning of the year, maybe? Sometime in February, I think.

What led you to create it?

I was feeling pretty lonely having no one to talk to about my writing. None of my real-life friends are writers and I'm really terrible at expressing my interests verbally, so I figured online might be the place to go. So far, I've been right!

What’s your favorite thing about the Writeblr community?

Oh, the people, for sure. It's incredibly rare that I come across anyone being less than supportive on here. No matter our skill level, I really feel like every writer on here has a sense of being in this shit together.

What’s one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you?

Hmmm.... I'm pretty open about sharing things about myself, so idk if there's anything major I haven't touched on yet. I wake up at 4am every morning for work, so if you see me posting at an egregious time, that's why. Also, if you ever want martial arts tips for your fight scenes, I'm your gal!

Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash?

I love it when people make memes of their ocs. Makes me giggle every time.

What tips/advice do you have for someone who made a Writeblr today?

You gotta interact with people. I know it can be scary, but even a reblog with no tags can make another writer smile. Chances also are, if you leave a nice comment on someone's work, they might check you out and leave a nice comment on yours! A community isn't a community unless you go out and commune :)

WIP it Good:

Which Works-in-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?

Lately, I've been juggling writing my first draft of Mortal God book 3 (tentatively title being The Machinations of Machine and Man) and going over @kaylinalexanderbooks lovely comments on MG1. My ghost ship project is also on a low simmer in the back of my brain, but I'm trying to leave that until I'm done with MG3.

How long have you been working on them?

Good lord, I started MG1 about... almost two years ago now? Damn, it feels like it's been so much longer. But hey, three book drafts in two years ain't bad! Honor's Outcasts, which is largely written by now, I started about three years ago.

Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started?

The two main characters of MG started as a vague daydream, which then became two important dnd npcs along with MG's main villain. I ended up liking them all so much that I wrote a short story which became *drumroll* three entire books! A lot of my inspiration came from Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood and the Foundryside Trilogy of books. I can't think of anyone specifically who inspired the characters, except that Astra was originally based on the archetype of the silent wandering cowboy/samurai as seen in a lot of Kurosawa films and old westerns. For anyone familiar with her, uh, things changed quite a lot.

How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

At least ten percent of my brain's storage is dedicated to my wips at all times. As for how often I'm actively thinking about them... it's also quite a lot.

When someone asks the dreaded, “What do you write about,” question, what do you usually say?

"Uh, fantasy stuff?" is my go-to.

What do you want to say (if it’s different from what you do say)?

I really wish I had the ability to explain my wips as succinctly with speech as I do with writing, but alas. I would want to give a nice, book jacket blurb that doesn't give away too much of the crazy shit.

Let’s Rotate Blorbos:

Name any characters you created.

I think I'm really good at names, so we're gonna go down the list!

Izjik Meautammera

Sepo Kaiacynthus

Twenari Undetasib/Devaris

Djek Kagura

Astra DuClaire

Mashal Darezsho

Ivander Montane

Elsind Cavernsight

Duchon Avymere Kalaphon Spearsong III

Faalgun Falani

Nyda Burningrock

Kaulakri Ondohuroata

Pashananath

Anarac Fifth-Blood

Who’s the most unhinged?

Unhinged in terms of violence? Sepo for sure. Unhindered in terms of sheer chaos? I'm gonna go with Izjik and Djek as a duo. Between both of their high charismas and low intelligences, along with their combined expertise in fighting and creative uses of magic, they're unbeatable.

Who comes the most naturally for you to write?

Probably Izjik. I've been writing in her POV for the longest.

Do you ever cringe at them?

Sometimes yeah, when they do something real stupid. But, then again, I did make them that way.

How much control do you feel you have over your characters?

I think I know my characters really well and base my plot around their motives, so there really isn't a huge need for control.

Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters?

PLEASE!!! FEED ME ASKS! I'LL TAKE ANYTHING!

On Writeblr Engagement:

What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account?

Probably creativity. I've read a looooot of fantasy/sci-fi, so if you're doing something I've never seen before, I'll probably give you a follow.

What makes you decide against following?

Any kind of hateful rhetoric or someone who doesn't want 18+ interaction. Other than that, I think it's important to follow people who write different genres or have different methods than me.

Do you interact with non-mutuals often?

I wouldn't say so. I get a little shy doing that.

Do your mutuals’ characters occupy space in your noodle?

The characters of @kaylinalexanderbooks @mk-writes-stuff and @somethingclevermahogony all have a little place in my brain. Favorites from each include Robbie and Akash (not to be separated), Narul and Bop (love me a good living weapon/teddybear of a dude team-up), and Nellie and Stellaris (their earnest kindness makes my heart happy). If you haven't yet, you should go check out their stuff and see for yourself!

And with that, thanks for reading! Go out and have yourself a bitchin day <3

[blacklegsanjiii]

I had an idea for Fishman!Sanji: what if the time he nearly drowned was the time with Zeff? Maybe Zeff tried to save him, but for whatever reason they got separated in the currents; Sanji was found by a fishman, Zeff ended up on the Rock. Years later, Sanji runs upon the Baratie, and Zeff instantly recognizes the boy he thought he couldn't save years ago. He's glad Sanji is still looking for the All Blue and offers him a place to learn how to cook.

Also, maybe Sanji meets the Strawhats because of Arlong. Jinbei is worried about his little brother, particularly because he remembers how much Arlong hates humans, and Sanji volunteers to go and see how he's been. After the whole arc, Sanji's found himself on a pirate crew and at first just keeps the reason he visited East Blue a secret because he doesn't want to hurt Nami with his story being the opposite of hers--someone saved by a fishman, the one who sent Arlong to the East no less--and eventually kept it a secret out of worry that if the World Government found out, they'd retaliate on Fishman Island.

Sanji must deal with racism a lot in the world too, from humans and fishman. He watches so many people shun his father and friends because of their species, and surely there's fishmen and mermaids who treat Sanji poorly as well, since he's a human. He still has his deal about not wasting food, but the second trigger button for him is any form of discrimination. He will NOT stand for anyone treating anybody poorly simply for their race. Jinbei has taught him well.

Also I really do need to see Sanji freaking out people with his swimming abilities. He's probably also a master of fishman karate, though he might hide it to keep his connection to Fishman Island a secret. But anyways, since the Grand Line is filled with so many powerful devil fruit users, someone so good with the ocean must definitely be a benefit, not to mention that Sanji must be aware of haki to some extent since he was raised by Jinbei. The crew keeps thinking Sanji has drowned when he's taking (from his perspective) a light dive. Chopper has no idea how such lung capacity is possible, considering how much he smokes.

Oh God, Jinbei being presented a ten year old fresh from a ship wreck to add to all the previous trauma? This blond little human boy blubbering about an old man who couldn't save him and the boy couldn't save back? Jinbei is trying to console this kid but for the life of him he can't touch the kid because he's flinching. And Arlong is only making it worse.

The Warlords don't care, the Marines will glare and call them names or spit at them. Jinbei doesn't care about himself but someone spit on Sanji once and they were killed immediately. Sanji doesn't really know what to do. And when Arlong is sent to the East, insults and slurs hurled at both of them as he leaves, Sanji and Jinbei are sad. The fishman and mer that shun Sanji make Jinbei angry and disappointed but no matter what Jinbei says nothing really changes, the wounds still too fresh for most.

When Sanji is older he arrives at the Baratie looking for a job, Arlong, and information on the All Blue he sees the geezer and they're staring at each other. The geezer is holding him which is surprising because Sanji is used to scales touching him and not skin but here he is, hugging the geezer back. When the Strawhats arrive and take Nami and he goes with because of fucking course Arlong pulled that shit. Of course. Sanji feels so lucky he didn't run into Arlong for anything longer than a roll of the eyes. He doesn't even run into him at Arlong Park and no one knows who he is thankfully.

He scares everyone when they're docked on a good island and he goes and dives for food and such. He's underwater for a long time and suddenly Zoro is grabbing him and having him up so when they breach the surface he's yelling at Zoro but every one on the ship is yelling they thought he drowned. The amount of tests Chopper has him do is annoying and chopper keeps looking at him like he doesn't understand.

And yeah Sabaody makes Sanji lose his fucking shit. He still keeps it all hidden for fear of retribution. Doesn't need to attract more unwanted attention. Then of course the crew is separated so on Momoiro he explains he knows observation haki, demonstrates setting his legs on fire, even the fishman karate he knows and has mastered. The Okama and Ivankov look at him like he's some sort of weird being which is rich coming from them. But then Sanji confides in Ivankov that he was raised by Jinbei and it all makes so much sense.

Also every time there's someone new on the boat and it's good waters Sanji will dive. Constantly, for too long. Chopper worries every time. Law called him a marvel and tried to amputate Sanji's lungs so he could look at them but got kicked. Brook played funeral music after twenty minutes of Sanji not resurfacing only to scream so loud when a bag of shellfish lands next to him. Jinbei looks at him and asks him to stop scaring their nakama at some point and Sanji just dives over board.

[tyhxrondxle]

What are your top 5 favorite ships in TSC?

oh god hi!! this will probably make no sense sorry it’s 4 am!!

i’ve based my list on pure feelings, these are the ships I’ve felt most deranged about through the ten years i’ve been reading TSC and I THINK they are objectively my favorites too!!

i’d love to know your top 5 too!!!

(no particular order)

sizzy

i liked Sizzy better than Malec in TMI which is wild considering Malec IS Malec, but Sizzy did something to my brain when I was 12 and i’ve never been the same ever since!

I tend to like those ships that do not have as much page time as the rest, so maybe that’s why I loved them so much

kitty

i never call them Kitty tbh, sorrY I hatE the nameship, i’m more of a heronthorn girlie!

do I even have to explain that i’ve been waiting six years to have them again? my page is based on how much I fucking love them and they ARE my favorite ship no doubt

blackstairs

i’m conflicted about them but i’m taking into consideration the fact that i became completely obsessed with them in 2014 and I waited for Lady Midnight like crazy. i ADORED them in LM, and maybe in LoS, not sure about queen, but overall they made me so happy when I was a child so they needed to be here

malec

i mean they are married and have children and they are who they are. Alec and Ty are two of my top 5 shadowhunter characters💜

jessa

i’ve always been a Jessa stan, didn’t care that much about Wessa tbh. I LOVE who these two are now, they’re backstory and entire lovestory is wild and one of the most beautiful things Cassie has ever written. I would trade this one for Herongraystairs if Cassie had been brave enough to do what had to be done🙄

[oneatlatime]

The Siege of the North Part 1

I'll be watching parts 1 & 2 separately.

Once again, audio commentary is off. Saving that as a treat for rewatches.

Hey look! A giant breach in an otherwise impenetrable wall! Bet that's plot relevant.

This episode has already won. It's already perfect. This face is the last thing the patriarchy sees before death. Katara has so earned this.

And then they pan to the casualty line as well! This opening would have had me hollering at the screen if I had seen this as a kid. Doing my Spice Girls Girl Power pose and everything.

Pakku is still Poophead. At least his writing is consistent.

This is what Aang's all about. This is who Aang is. Just a goofy kid indeed.

Try Off.

Yue! Sweetheart! You're allowed to be confused but you're pushing this mixed signals stuff a little far. "This is wrong; I'm engaged!" *Does the bison-riding equivalent of the yawn and stretch like two minutes later.* I get it and I'm sorry, but you can't literally put the moves on a boy you've explicitly stated it's wrong for you to see. Excellent recovery from Sokka though. Totally not awkward at all.

Given the isolation of the Northern water tribe, are the Gaang the only ones who know what the black snow means?

Zhao the asshole's ego has been turned up for the season finale. And since when can he order Iroh around?

"Do you have a plan?" "I'm working on it Uncle." Translation: Nope!

I get it. She's under the massive pressure of her whole society's expectations and traditions and she just wants to be happy for a bit. But seriously, hot, to cold, to hot, to cold, in five minutes of run time? Not to mention last episode's flip flops too. At what point does it go from teenage angst to stringing the poor guy along?

"I like you too much. It's too confusing to be around you." Ouch. Talk about a no-win situation.

"You don't understand. I have duties to my father, to my tribe. I have to do this." AHEM

These two should sit down and really talk to each other instead of making googoo eyes. I think they would find they had a surprising amount in common.

RIP eleven arctic foxes.

When the chief talks about faces disappearing from the tribe, it pans to Yue, Poophead and some guy with a large amount of chin. Foreshadowing?

Is this the total population of the Northern Water Tribe? Why is the Fire Nation bothering to attack? All they have to do is wait 40 years and the isolationism will do the job for them.

I've been ragging on the Sokka x Yue Knots Landing melodrama, but this is just sad. Real talk, it's ouchy.

"The stillness before battle is unbearable." How would you know? Haven't you been behind your walls for decades? I guess it's set up for Aang's line, but it's a bit clunky.

One fireball just displaced their entire defending force. That inspires confidence. These guys are going to get flattened, aren't they.

One man army Aang is back!

The hammers used to trigger these catapults are making inches deep dents in the catapults' frames. That metal is way too soft. There's no way these things wouldn't tear themselves apart under the stress of operation.

Tying the catapults to the ship and to each other is clever. I wouldn't have thought of that.

OH MY GOD

Hang on what's her name

Jojo Siwa works for the Fire Nation ?!?!?

Appa murdered Jojo Siwa?!?!?

Math time! There are five waterbenders in each boat, five boats on this side, and judging by the ice spikes on the other side of the ship, five boats on that side too. That makes ten boats of five waterbenders, which makes 50 waterbenders, one Appa, and one Avatar to take out one fire nation ship.

Not the clearest shot, but I see 117 ships. So it's going to take 117 Appas, 117 Avatars, and 5850 waterbenders to take out this force. I bet they're regretting not training their female benders now.

You and me both Sokka. The Chief praises Sokka and calls Han on his behaviour twice in this scene. Makes me think that he knows that Han is an ass. Which makes me wonder why he's letting him marry Yue? I was ambivalent about the Chief until now, but if he's knowingly shackling his daughter to that, then I think the Chief is a jerk.

More math time! I count nine waterbenders here. This includes Poophead, who's apparently good enough to teach the Avatar, so let's round up and call it ten. Ten waterbenders per fireball.

Jojo Siwa's ship has five catapults. Assuming that all 117 ships have five catapults each (which is a big assumption, because some of them must be support ships), then that's 585 fireballs without reloading. At ten waterbenders each, they're going to need an additional 5850 waterbenders behind the walls to catch incoming fireballs. I bet they're really regretting not teaching women how to bend now. And with the fireballs, how many of the healers have already been pancaked?

Interesting exposition from Iroh. Waterbenders are werewolves.

It's the problem from a century ago in The Storm episode again! The world needs a fully realised Avatar; the best Aang can do is just one (goofy) kid.

Ooof. Zuko is far from my favourite character, but the dynamic between these two is so comfortable, so well-worn. They feel like they've had no one but each other for years, which has made sense from Zuko's side of things since The Storm, but apparently Iroh has a dead kid (?!!?) and suddenly his side of things makes sense too.

"Remember your breath of fire." "Put your hood up." "Pack a lunch." "Bring a sweater." "Listen to your teacher, learn lots, have fun!" "Call me when you get home" "Eat your vegetables" "Call your uncle. He misses you already."

Han is so well liked that when the guards see him getting attacked, they all collectively decide not to do anything about it. "Should we interfere?" "Nah, it's been a long time coming. He deserves it."

Zuko approaching the wall is accompanied by Blue Spirit music, but he's not wearing his Blue Spirit costume. Thoughts?

HYBRID ANIMALS!!!!! HYBRID ANIMALS!!!!! HYBRID ANIMALS!!!!!

Zuko is such a dumb smart guy. He can figure out that the turtle seals are coming up for air, but he can't figure out that marine mammals and humans might have drastically different lung capacities. Then again, if what the deserter says is correct and firebending is all about breathing, then firebenders probably have training on the kind of breath control that lets you hold you breath for extended periods. On the other hand, they probably learned that in water that wasn't so cold that it made you gasp involuntarily, so we're right back to dumb smart guy.

Does the Avatar world's moon cycle not work like ours? Our moon is out pretty often during the day, but Katara's waterbending is stronger at night. So the Avatar world's moon only appears at night?

Is there a connection between the spirit world and bamboo? The giant panda grew bamboo in the village gate, now we see a gate with bamboo behind it.

Strange face. Do not like.

You smack turtleseal? You smack turtleseal like a football?

Thought that was a palm tree for a sec.

Couldn't the Chief have reassigned Sokka in a way that didn't embarass him in front of all the other warriors?

Zuko's got some crazy swimming skills. He's also frozen to death at least three times by now.

"SHADDUP!" -Aang.

Avatar hypnotised by fish, more at 11.

How does Katara know that Aang's body can't be moved? Last time he went to the spirit world, she was sitting in a village gate cradling her brother's boomerang and Aang was ragdolling into a giant panda statue.

Might want to check your ego there Katara. You may be crazy skilled now but there's nothing wrong with backup.

Zuko having the same problem as Sokka and Aang with announcing his sneak strikes.

I love that when Zuko shows up Yue's just like Biyee!!! I wish I could make that into a gif. She ZOOMS.

It's a good thing that Katara knocked Zuko unconscious because otherwise there's nothing permanent she can do to stop him. Ice cage? Melt it. Water cage? Turn it to steam. Fire always undoes water.

Firebenders are powered by photosynthesis. Zuko one shots Katara here. Even powered by a full moon it took Katara a whole lot of moves to incapacitate him, then he gets one sunbeam and knocks her out with the recoil of one blast. Katara may be the best student Poophead's ever had but Zuko's got years on her.

Clever use of the otherwise counterintuitive ship doors: combination battering ram and landing ramp. Neat.

I normally don't agree with Zhao on anything, but my math shows that inevitable is the right word for the outcome of this battle.

"Where did they go?" How about up the giant very obvious path that is the only way out of the oasis that isn't through a city full of waterbenders on high alert?

Verry cool image to end on, but wasn't the fact that it was brilliantly sunny two minutes ago actually an important plot point?

That's it?

Well. Ok. That's a bit of a cliff hanger.

Final Thoughts

This one's really an obligate two parter huh?

How long has the Gaang spent in the Northern Water Tribe? It feels like maybe a week? Zuko couldn't remain undetected indefinitely on Zhao's ship, so it can't have been too long. I feel like Katara's amazing skills would make sense even after just a week, because we've seen how she progresses quickly when she has the opportunity (the waterbending scroll really did work, loathe as I am to admit it). But I feel like Sokka and Yue's story arc, particularly Yue's changes of heart, would work a lot better if it was established that they'd been around each other for a while. They're both aware she's engaged, but they both make the resolution to just be friends, and before they know it they've spent countless hours together and fallen into horribly deep love and now they're in too far and they have to quit cold turkey but they just keep pulling each other back in like their love is inevitable and before either of them know it, they can't stop loving each other. Yue panics and the scene on the steps of the palace as soot falls happens. They both know that maybe it's wisest to stop seeing each other, but then the Chief assigns Sokka to protect Yue and now they're unavoidably thrown together and they're right back where they started and they can no longer even pretend to deny their feelings and the sheer strength of their love acknowledged wipes out the entirety of the fire nation fleet and when the firelord hears the news he has a heart attack and dies so the war's over and Aang goes into the jewellery business and everyone lives happily ever after and Aang and Katara get married when they're both 35 and Sokka and Yue rule over a joint north-south water tribe matriarchy.

Seriously. Yue is giving me Eowyn vibes. I am WORRIED.

I have my suspicions about the Chief. He'd rather a stranger from the southern tribe guard his daughter than her fiance? I wonder if Han was the politically powerful choice. I guess having only a daughter in a patriarchal society doesn't make for a firm power base. I wonder if the Chief's council or whatever picked Han, and the Chief didn't have the power to refuse. So instead he sends Han on a suicide mission and arranges it so that Sokka can spend time with Yue. Is the Chief aware of Yue's feelings for Sokka and trying to help sneakily? If that's the case, I rescind calling him a jerk. Maybe he has to be seen to favour Han in public, so he takes Sokka off the mission when he and Han fight with an audience, but assigns Sokka to his daughter when it's only Sokka in the room. Maybe the Chief ships them as much as I do?

Anyways...

The Northern Water Tribe have been staying out of the war completely, so why are the Fire Nation even bothering to waste resources on them? Their mandate is to capture the Avatar alive, so a full-scale indiscriminate assault on where he's staying feels dumb.

Zuko's one-sided banter with Katara recalled their interactions in the Waterbending Scroll with the pirates. Kind of off-putting, kind of insulting, kind of creepy.

Aang had a neat fight scene, but not much beyond that. I have a feeling he'll be the star of the next episode. Congrats to Appa on the murderous assist. Air nomads may have been pacifists but their bison sure weren't.

This episode set up a lot of dominoes. The next one is going to have to do a lot of things very quickly.

[gumnut-logic]

Today is my five year fandomversary!

Today five years ago I fell into this fandom and never looked back. I published my first Thunderbirds fic, which I will reblog again just for traditions sake.

1.3 million words/260+ fics later...let's just say I've had a lot of fun :D

Usually on this day I offer to write for some one word challenges and while I'll happily accept them, I honestly don't think my muse is up to playing with them at the moment. It's having a rest so hopefully at some point I can start writing again. But ask away if you like, I can always store them for later :D

Anyways, thank you to Thunderfam for all the fun I've had over the last five years and for motivating me to write those thousands and thousands of words...there will be more, I have no doubt :D

Nutty

::massive group hug::

Title: No-one is losing their Dad today Author: Gumnut Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015 Rating: Teen Summary: Exactly how not to do it. Word count: 5,145 Spoilers & warnings: Thunderbirds Are Go S1 Ep1 & 2, in fact if you haven’t seen these two episodes, this isn’t going to make much sense. Interwoven episode tag. Author's note: This fic is affected by two things. Firstly, it is the first complete fic I’ve written in nearly ten years, so my writing muscles are very much rusty. Secondly, brand new fandom! I’ve only been here for a matter of weeks and I’m so in love with the Tracy boys, it has become an addiction. It has been a long time since a fandom grabbed me like this, and I’m having sooo much fun! This fic is very intertwined with the first two episodes of the first season – that first scene (I love it!), but I felt it had some ramifications, because ouch! So this is possibly happening in the background of the episode. Also, total Virgil fan :D And anyone who knows me from other fandoms, knows what happens to my favourite characters :D Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother. Scenes parroted from the episodes are definitely not mine.

His hand missed.

The roaring wind caught the beleaguered hot air balloon, lifting it up, tossing it sideways, and ripping its tethers from the basket. The basket hung suspended a moment, then flipped, throwing its last passenger into freefall.

His yell was taken by the wind.

“Dad!” The boy beside him struggled and Virgil grabbed him, yanking him back to the safety of his ship’s overhead hatch. Calculations raced through his head. Possibilities.

He stabbed his commlink, yelling over the wind, “Thunderbird Five, I need you now!”

There would be only moments. Lowering the hatch, he threw himself at the controls. The kid was pleading for him to save his father.

“No-one is losing their Dad today!” No-one. John was in his ear. “John, what’s my time window?”

The answer was maybe enough.

He shouted over his shoulder at the kid. “Strap in!” And threw TB2 into a dive. He rode gravity until it wasn’t enough and kicked in the rear thrusters, sending them screaming past the falling man. Virgil brought her to pacing drop beneath him, the VTOL gear halting their descent, but not their fall.

The seconds counted down in his head.

Darting back into the centre of the cockpit, he secured his tether, and with an almighty shove, flung back the overhead hatch.

The ship’s plummet tore him from her confines and within a second he was falling beside the screaming man.

This time, his hand didn’t miss.

“I’ve got you!”

Another second ticked by.

He remotely triggered the VTOL, slowing her fall.

Damn, this was going to hurt.

He wrapped himself around the struggling man, protecting him as much as he possibly could, as the hatch rushed up to meet them.

Then there was Thunderbird, metal and pain. He grunted and the man fell off him. He vaguely heard the VTOL ratchet up into a hover. John was yelling in his ear.

He squeezed his eyes shut a moment, forcing away the stars, before rolling over onto his knees. Oh god, there was going to be hell to pay for this one. He could feel the bruises forming.

But now was not the time. He struggled to his feet, pleased to see the father and his kid clinging to each other. Totally worth those bruises.

A somewhat staggering step back to his seat, and he was answering John’s increasingly urgent calls. “This is Thunderbird Two, mission complete.”

There was a relieved sigh at the other end of the line. “Good job, Virgil.”

He signed off and took a moment to sigh himself, before plotting his course to the nearest hospital. The son seemed fine, but the father had taken that fall with him, and it wouldn’t hurt for both of them to get checked out.

He rolled his right shoulder…ow…probably wouldn’t hurt to get himself checked out either. At home. With a hot shower. And coffee. What was it with balloonists and the crack of dawn anyway?

-o-o-o-

It was afternoon before he made it home. He managed the shower but missed the coffee due to another trip down his chute to save some scientists from a seaquake.

He forgot his shoulder until he couldn’t target their underwater habitat with his grapple guns. Damn arm trembled when he put pressure on it, throwing off his aim.

Scott succeeded in latching on first try with the grapple gun in Thunderbird One, even though he knew the scout ship wouldn’t have the grunt to hold the habitat by itself. The thought of TB1 disappearing below the waves was enough motivation for Virgil to grit his teeth and make his body behave.

The day was saved yet again. This time it was three scientists he dropped off at the nearest hospital. And then home.

And then the Hood.

Seaquakes. An argument with the GDF. An argument with his brothers. There was coffee this time, but once again he was flying down his chute. As he hit the bars to swing himself into his ship, his shoulder screamed in protest and he stumbled as he landed, but there was no time. He shoved the overhead hatch closed.

This time there was an entire city to save. A solar collector had fallen out of alignment and in just the right position to fry downtown Taipei. Scott, of course, beat him there and was in the thick of things before Virgil could even assess the situation.

Grab the dish and move it. Once again, he found himself struggling, this time with the magnetic claw. He grasped the dish perfectly, but the moment he fired up the VTOL to lift the dish, his arm spasmed, jolting the yoke. He lifted up his hand and watched it tremble. What the hell?

He didn’t have time for this!

Unfortunately, the dish was still attached to its foundations and he was unable to move it. Then Scott was climbing to free it and Virgil’s priority had switched to rescuing the crew.

Slaving TB2 to autopilot, he dashed into the hold to grab his Jaws of Life exoskeleton. He only hesitated momentarily, steeling himself as the metal wrapped around him. He expected complaint from his arm, but none came. He blinked and flexed the claw. A little tingling, a twinge or two. Okay. And he was off and running.

Everything went perfectly well until he had to grab and hold onto the edge of the personnel carrier to save his own life.

-o-o-o-

Kuan-yu knew the laws of physics. He was an engineer, it was his business. The force required to crumple the door to the collector station was considerable, so there was no surprise when the man in blue and green and sporting metal arms was easily able to lift the beam that had fallen on Teller. The logo on his helmet flashed in the morning light.

International Rescue!

The IR man hurried the three of them out of the crumbling building. They stumbled over rubble, clambering as fast as they could, desperate to get away.

And then the sky was falling. The huge dish had come off its supports and was roaring, screaming, down towards them.

Kuan-yu opened his mouth to yell but was suddenly swept from his feet. His hands automatically wrapped around the harness that lowered over his head, and he was flying, the dish groaning down the mountain below him.

A blue man was riding the edge of it like a surfboard.

There was a muffled yell behind him. He twisted in his seat, but he could see little. Then a booted foot swung into view. There was another yell. And another. His rescuer must be hanging onto the edge of the carrier. Kuan-yu immediately began looking for a way to help him, but the harness was secured and he could not raise it.

His glance flickered down to the settling dish, looking for the other blue man, but he was gone. A moment later his world slipped into shadow and he looked up to see the massive green bulk of the world-famous Thunderbird Two.

There were expressions of awe, but Kuan-yu was overloaded and out of words.

The ship swallowed them up.

-o-o-o-

There was a moment of silence when the carrier came to a halt, suspended just above the deck of the ship. The lighting was dim after the brilliance of the morning sun, and although the engines of the craft were dominant, they lacked the chaos of the moments before. All he could hear was the panicked breathing of his two workmates.

A click and the harness holding him to the carrier disengaged. Hesitantly Kuan-yu pushed it over his head and slid out of the seat. His shoes touched the metal of the decking and the bass roar of the ship’s engines echoed up through the soles of his feet.

He took a few steps around the end of the carrier, his eyes seeking out the blue and green man, not entirely sure he had made it and not sure he wanted to see if he hadn’t.

The IR man was there. On his knees, head down, metal arms awkwardly splayed out to the side. A hologram of Thunderbird Two hovered above one arm. Suddenly his tense shoulders dropped and Kuan-yu could hear a muffled expletive and then something about surfing.

“Are you okay?” He couldn’t help himself.

The man’s head shot up and piercing brown eyes fixed on him. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”

I’m not the one still on the floor. He thought but didn’t say. Teller and Jane had come around the other end of the carrier and both were staring at the IR man.

The man on the floor seemed to realise it anyway and blinked before clambering to his feet with a grunt and whirring of gears. He fiddled with the hologram on his wrist, the ghost of the rear thrusters flaring for a moment, the ship’s engines changed thrum and they all staggered slightly as it moved around them. Apparently finished with the hologram, he walked awkwardly over to the other side of the bay and backed himself up. There was a thunk, and the exoskeleton separated itself from him. The reinforcements unfastened from his boots and hips and lastly, he slid his arms from the claws. There was a hiss as his right arm came free, he wavered, and Kuan-yu was moving before the IR man pitched forward in an attempt to plant his face into the deck of his own ship.

It was awkward, but he caught him. There was a gasp of pain when his hand touched his right shoulder, so Kuan-yu struggled to lower the much larger man to the floor using mostly his left side. Fortunately, he was still wearing his helmet, so the soft clunk when he connected with the floor should have been less painful than without.

The eyes under that helmet slid closed.

“No! No, sir. You can not sleep! Stay awake!” He prodded the man gently and his eyelids flickered. Kuan-yu felt around the base of the helmet, looking for a release. The man needed air and Kuan-yu needed to assess him for injury. His fingertips fumbled across a latch and there was a soft hiss as the helmet came loose. He gently lifted the protection off the man’s head to reveal his pale face and mess of thick dark hair.

“Scott…” The word was faint.

“Jane, go and see who is flying this ship and see if you can get help.” He glanced up at his other workmate. “Teller, sit down before you fall down.”

The technician wobbled himself back onto the carrier.

With those two occupied, Kuan-yu turned his full attention to the almost unconscious man beside him. “Sir, can you hear me?”

His eyelids fluttered. He was obviously fighting to stay conscious.

“Can you hear me, sir?”

“Scott?” His eyelids fluttered again.

Kuan-yu felt gently around his scalp, checking for a head injury. It wasn’t long before he found one either. There was a considerable lump towards the back of the right side of the man’s head. Fortunately, there was no bleeding.

There was also the concern for the man’s arm. His uniform unzipped at the front, so Kuan-yu gently pulled it down just far enough to peel back his collar slightly. He drew in a sharp breath at the sight of black bruising. This wasn’t a new injury, it was at least twenty-four hours old. What the hell was this man doing saving lives in this condition?

Jane burst back into the compartment. “There is no-one flying this plane!”

“What?!” Both he and Teller spoke at once.

“There is no-one in the cockpit!”

Teller and Jane started talking over one another. He looked down at the IR man again. Was he really on his own? In his condition? How the hell was this plane still in the sky?

No, there had been another blue man. His heartrate picked up. No, no, this wasn’t the time to panic. He took a breath. “Both of you – shut up!”

There was a sudden silence. The engines thrummed through the ship. Teller and Jane stared at him.

Beneath his hand, the IR man moved. “I have to…” Those eyes were fully open once again and narrowing in on him.

“Sir, sit still. You collapsed and must remain calm.”

The eyes blinked at him. “Who are you?” There was authority in that suddenly deep voice.

“Lin Kuan-yu, Senior Engineer at the Taipei Solar Plant. You saved my life and the lives of my two colleagues, not fifteen minutes ago.”

“Oh.” The man inhaled, held the breath a moment, before releasing it between his teeth. “Okay. Sorry about that.” And despite Kuan-yu’s resistance, the man sat up fully. He wavered a moment and Kuan-yu prepared to catch him again, but he rolled to his feet, stumbling, but standing firm. His eyes darted across the three of them. “Are any of you in need of medical assistance?”

Jane and Teller both answered no. Kuan-yu suspected Teller did in any case and would be checking him over once he had the IR man seen to. Brown eyes looked at him in question. “No, I don’t, but you do.”

“Let me worry about that.”

“But who is flying this plane?” Jane’s voice had an edge of hysteria to it.

The man swallowed. “Let me worry about that too.” He stepped back a moment as if to steady himself. “I’m sorry…”

And with that he staggered somewhat through the still open door and latched it shut behind him.

-o-o-o-

Virgil clung to the wall. The world refused to stop spinning. What the hell? The pain in his head. His shoulder was screaming at him.

He wasn’t fit to fly.

He had three rescued persons on board. And he couldn’t fly. He stepped away from the wall and staggered to the pilot’s seat. He could barely stand up.

Sliding in he scanned the controls. Where were they going?

A sudden image of Scott riding the dish down the mountain…

He slammed the transmission console. “Scott!”

“Virgil!” There was concern in his brother’s voice. “What’s wrong?”

“You okay?” His console flickered in and out of focus for a moment.

“Fine. You?”

He swallowed. There was bile in his throat. “Not good.”

There was a silence on the other end of the line, before Scott’s controlled voice returned. “Can you fly?”

The world was spinning again.

Then it flickered as Scott’s hologram appeared on the dash. “Oh, god, Virgil.”

“I’m sorr..y.” And the whole world tipped sideways.

-o-o-o-

Scott reached out to catch the hologram of his brother as it slipped sideways and out of view. His fingers caught nothing.

“John!”

His younger brother’s hologram flickered on beside the empty shell of TB2’s cabin. “Thunderbird One?

“Virgil’s in trouble. He may have lost consciousness. Can you remote pilot Thunderbird Two?”

John’s eyes widened before darting to his controls. He frowned and muttered something under his breath. “One moment.”

Scott held his breath.

There was another muttered word, then John’s face relaxed. “Confirmed, Thunderbird One. Thunderbird Two is now under remote pilot.” John looked up at him. “But there are still three rescued persons aboard.”

“What is Virgil’s status?”

John could seem cold to some people, but Scott knew he was anything but. “Rapid pulse, low blood pressure…what the hell happened?”

“I don’t know. But we will find out. Where are the three engineers?”

“In the pod bay. They are mobile.” John frowned. “One is banging on the door to the cabin.”

“What is Gordon’s status?”

“Mission complete and heading home.”

“Advise him of our situation. Tell him to beach his ‘Bird as soon as possible. Bring Thunderbird Two to a hover. I’m going to board her.” John’s acknowledgement was brief.

Both Thunderbirds were out over the Philippine Sea, TB1 a little ahead of her sister. Scott accelerated up and flipped back over his position to settle above his brother’s green behemoth.

He’d already fried one jetpack today, but he’d learnt a long time ago to always pack a spare or three, so moments later he was landing beside TB2’s overhead hatch. “Thunderbird Five, please release the hatch.”

A gentle shove and he had the hatch open just enough to slide in. He slipped it closed behind him.

The cabin was eerily quiet despite the VTOL burning brightly outside. “Virgil?”

He found him half slumped off his chair, almost beneath the console. “Virgil!” Scott hit the seat controls, releasing it and moving it backwards slowly.

Virgil began to slip boneless to the floor. “I’ve got you.” He grabbed his brother under the arms and as gently as possible, halted his fall. A little manoeuvring had him on his back beside his pilot seat. “Virgil!”

“Sc-t?”

“What happened?”

“S-rry.”

“For what?”

Any answer Virgil might have given him was lost in a sudden banging on the cockpit door. “Hey, you need help. Let me help!”

Virgil’s eyes slipped closed and didn’t open again.

“Virgil!” He touched the man’s cheek. His skin was cold. “Virgil!” No response.

What the hell had happened?

Professionalism kicked in. The patient was breathing shallow but rapidly, heart rate up. “John, give me his vitals.” His brother’s hologram appeared beside him and rattled off numbers. Scott peeled back an eyelid, then the other one. He frowned, a possible concussion?

“Scott, he has all the symptoms of hypovolemic shock.”

“He’s bleeding?!” His hands skimmed over his brother’s uniform. He couldn’t see anything obvious. The zip of his uniform was pulled away slightly from his collar. Scott pulled it down quickly, revealing pale skin and dark chest hair.

And a massive spreading red and black bruise radiating out from the man’s right shoulder.

“Aww, hell.”

“Damn it, sir, you need help!” There was another thunk from the other side of the cockpit door.

Scott’s eyes darted momentarily between his brother and the door, calculating. “John, we’re going to Darwin. Alert the hospital. You plot and initialise, take One, I’ll take Two once I have Virgil secured. Tell Gordon to go home and grab Tracey One to meet us there.” A breath. “Mission status?”

“Seaquake generators have been nullified. The source of the transmissions has been located – in the middle of Northern Australia, approximately one hundred kilometres north west of Tennant Creek in the Northern Territory. Kayo is on her way.” His brother’s hologram blinked out.

Scott swore, torn.

No time.

Fingers briefly touching his brother’s cheek, he stood up and strode over to the cockpit door.

-o-o-o-

Kuan-yu nearly fell through the door as it was suddenly shoved open. A man in IR blue caught him.

This one was taller. “Where is he? He needs help.” Kuan-yu shoved past the man into the cockpit only to find his saviour on the floor out cold.

The other man eyed him as if to assess his intentions before darting through the cockpit door. He returned a second later with a collapsible hover stretcher and first aid kit. The IR man stabilised his colleague’s spine. “Help me get him onto the stretcher.”

The two men grunted as they lifted the bigger man. “A few less pancakes, Virg.” It was muttered under the man’s breath and Kuan-yu wasn’t sure he had actually heard it.

There was the snap of fittings and the hardware attached to the prone man started to come away. The IR man lifted off the bulky protuberance over the man’s left shoulder, undid the belt, the toolkit came off, and the green sash unbuckled, exposing more of the blue uniform beneath.

“Thunderbird Five, you have control. Commence flight plan.”

There was no acknowledgement, but suddenly the plane shuddered, the engine roar shifting from around them to the back of the vehicle once again. Kuan-yu staggered a step as the ship suddenly changed direction and accelerated. Much faster than it had before.

The IR man didn’t flinch, his hand on his compatriot, keeping him still. Once the flight had stabilised, he hurried him from the room.

Kuan-yu followed.

“Where are we going?”

“Darwin.”

“Australia?”

“Yes, we need the hospital there.” He slammed open another door to reveal what was obviously the medical bay. Depositing the stretcher on the examination table in the middle of the room, he secured it. Medical alarms filled the air.

“Damn it, Virgil.”

Checking the patient again, the IR man grabbed a laser cutter and started tearing off the man’s uniform. Kuan-yu quickly moved to the other side to help. He tugged at the man’s left glove, the tough material giving way as velcro released the padding. He found the fastener for the hologram display and pulled it away, depositing it quickly on a nearby shelf. The man’s fingers were a road map of calluses. He struggled to pull off the glove. How on Earth did the man put these on in the first place? There was a brief flash of light and the IR man flickered the laser cutter at the crucial point and the glove came apart, falling off in Kuan-yu’s hands.

The laser cutter had certainly done its job. Most of the patient’s torso was now exposed revealing the extent of the massive bruise down the man’s right arm and chest wall.

The IR man was muttering under his breath as he cut the last of the uniform off the patient’s left arm. Discarding the laser cutter, he grabbed an IV and set up a fluid transfusion. “He’s bleeding internally.”

“No kidding.” Kuan-yu couldn’t keep his eyes off that massive, swollen bruise.

A blanket was draped over the prone man and an oxygen mask placed over his face. Most of the alarms quietened. A hand brushed the patient’s forehead, fingers gently moving through his dark hair.

And Kuan-yu found himself pinned by a pair of startling blue eyes.

“What happened?” There wasn’t any accusation in the tone, but the man’s stance was one of a lion over its cub.

Kuan-yu held up his hands. “I don’t know! He saved us and collapsed. I tried to help him, but he refused.”

The man’s shoulders dropped a little and whispered, “Typical.”

“He does this regularly?”

The eyes snapped to him again. “What is the status of your colleagues? Are any of you in need of medical assistance?”

Again with the hands up. “No, we are fine. Teller has some bruising, but he’s okay. They’re both down with the carrier that hauled us in.”

The man released another breath. “Do you have any medical training?” His hand once again touched the patient’s head, fingers in his hair as he cupped his crown lightly.

“Basic first aid. I’m the designated first aider on site at the Solar Plant.” He took a breath and held out his hand. “I’m Kuan-yu.”

The tall man reached over and took his hand, clasping it only briefly. “Thank you.” Another glance at the patient. “Can you stay with him? We are on approach to Darwin.”

“Sure.”

Yet another glance at the prone man. “Thanks.” And he was out the door.

-o-o-o-

For Scott, the next half an hour was one of the worst in his life.

The moment he set foot back in the cockpit, John was in his ear agitated that he had lost contact with Kayo.

Kayo who was in the middle of the Australian desert on her own.

And he couldn’t do a damn thing.

“Colonel Casey and the GDF are with her.”

“And how useful have the GDF been in the past? They mean well, but ineffective, John, ineffective! Why the hell do you think International Rescue exists in the first place? Because they can’t do their damned jobs!”

TB2 trembled under his fingertips as he took control of the ‘Bird’s descent. “Tell Brains that he needs to finish her ‘Bird. This has gone on too long. She needs her own wings.”

“Scott-“

“Do we have clearance to land?”

John spouted off landing conditions. “Helipad’s to the north. Ambulance attending. They have the patient’s details. I have Thunderbird One.” A shadow passed briefly over the windows as Thunderbird One overtook them and disappeared off into the distance. Darwin appeared on the horizon, the brief spark of civilisation in the subtropical swamp, stark against the green and blue of the Timor Sea.

He came in hard.

The air screamed around him as Thunderbird Two shot into the hospital’s air space, her VTOL engines roaring as he applied braking thrust over the helipad. Her mass always fooled him. She was slower, but more powerful than TB1. Pure grunt force.

The ship lowered, her landing struts deployed, and they were down.

He secured the console and was out of the pilot’s seat before the VTOL jets had fully retracted. Through a couple of doors and once again he was listening to medical alarms.

“His blood pressure is still dropping.” The short Taiwanese man was hovering around his brother, obviously at a loss of what to do, but wanting to do something nonetheless.

Scott didn’t answer. He hurriedly detached the hover stretcher from the table and activated its jets. Making sure the IV was secure and his brother strapped in, he put the stretcher in motion towards the cockpit. On the periphery of his vision, Kuan-yu followed.

Moments later, he was breathing in the hot moist air of the Australian northern country as the cockpit hatch lowered them to the helipad. There were doctors, there were nurses, there were numbers being called back and forth. His brother was whisked away.

A dark-haired nurse was asking him questions.

He had responsibilities.

Turning back into the ship’s shadow, he almost tripped over Kuan-yu. Recovering quickly, he motioned the shorter man towards the nurse. “Get yourself checked out.”

He leapt back into his brother’s ‘Bird.

-o-o-o-

Three days.

Three goddamned awful days.

Kayo was safe. Scott picked her up in Thunderbird One himself. He was the closest. The remains of the Hood’s hideout were secured by the GDF for further investigation. The shouting match he had with Colonel Casey over that likely didn’t help his case, but she had been a friend of the family for a long time, she knew the reasons behind his anger. She would forgive him. He’d apologise later.

Three days.

Gordon flew in with Tracey One, Alan beside him.

John hovered. Literally. His hologram appearing in various places, not all fully authorised, as he monitored Virgil’s condition.

Three days.

With John’s help they worked out what had happened. John, after all, had been complicit in the cause of the injury. There had been words.

Delayed concussion and a chipped humerus. A chipped bone which could have been a minor injury if it had been attended promptly. But no, it had been ignored, and the bone chip had eventually nicked a blood vessel. The bleed had been a slow one, but it had the time it needed to do damage. There had been surgery. Now there were questions of whether his brother might lose the use of his arm, even the arm itself.

Three days.

Scott found the tether Virgil had used in the rescue of the two ballooners. A good twenty metres of reinforced nylon cord. Twenty metres. A fall of twenty metres could kill a man.

It nearly had.

He dropped his head to the bed. Why?

He knew why.

Damnit, Virgil!

His brother’s left arm was draped with tubing, feeding his starved body with the fluids and nutrients it so desperately needed. Scott stared at fingers. His brother had large hands, callused and worn with hard work, yet still nimble with an instrument or paintbrush. He reached out and brushed his own fingertips against the pale skin.

“Scott?” It was barely a whisper, but when he looked up a pair of blurry brown eyes peered back at him.

Scott felt his cheek muscles drag his mouth into an almost smile. “Hey, Virg.” Equally as quiet.

The brown eyes darted around a moment, a frown creasing between them. “What?”

“Hospital. Darwin. Thunderbird Two is safe and secure.” She was sitting right next to her sister under heavy guard at the local GDF airfield. He swallowed. “There was a situation.”

Virgil’s fingers brushed against his. Scott wrapped both hands around his brother’s single hand.

He knew why Virgil did it. He knew the reasoning, the lack of alternative. Those two ballooners would never know exactly how lucky they had been and what had been risked. His fingers tightened convulsively.

“Scott.” His brother’s eyes were clearing, his voice that bit stronger. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

-o-o-o-

Six weeks later and it was hard to tell if any of it had happened.

The bandages were off and Virgil had recovered most of the movement in his arm. There was still work to be done and he was still grounded, but the outcome was looking more positive by the day.

John had been dragged back to Earth and there had been some honest discussions, some yelling, of course, but mostly sane discussion. New strategies on how to snatch a free-falling victim out of the sky – it did happen often enough, so they really should be prepared, especially since Virgil had so kindly shown them all exactly how not to do it.

The reiteration on reporting all injuries on occurrence was getting a little repetitive however. Virgil, of course, claimed he didn’t know it had been that bad. And besides, exactly when had he had the time to do anything that day – he hadn’t even managed a decent meal in the entire twenty-four hours!

Scott had backed down at that. He knew he shared the guilt with his two brothers. Nobody had reported anything, but then he had them working a twenty-four hour stretch without a decent break.

Brain’s announcement that Kayo’s ‘Bird was finally finished was a welcome distraction. And Grandma’s threat of a homecooked meal had the effect she had no doubt planned as they all ran for cover.

Scott found Virgil in Thunderbird Two.

Swearing.

And surrounded by discarded food wrappers.

“I’m going to kill him.”

Scott raised his hands placatingly. “Now, Virgil, he said he was going to clean it up before he handed her back to you.”

Virgil raised his fist full of wrappers, knuckles white. “I’m going to kill him!”

Staring at his angry brother, Scott couldn’t help but smile. The white knuckled fist belonged to his right hand. It took a moment for the bigger man to connect the dots, his eyes dancing back and forth between Scott and his curled fist, but when he did, the anger bled away to be replaced by an ironic smile.

Scott wrapped his arm around his brother’s shoulders. “See, there is wisdom in Gordon…somewhere.”

That brought out a much-missed Virgil chuckle. Scott ruffled his hair, before darting out of the retaliation zone.

But he wasn’t fast enough and Virgil lunged to grab him.

His hand didn’t miss.

-o-o-o-

[badsansandstarsansticklestuff]

As you can see, I am not dead !

Aaaanyway, here is another fic for ya ! Featuring ticklish Nightmare as always because I'm in love with him ♡

If you don't like it then feel free to block me or simply don't read it !

Characters: Dream & Nightmare (not a ship ! Only brotherly bonding time)

Context: they have made peace with each other and are now trying to spend more time together in order recreate their former link

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□

Dreamtale, the tree of feelings... it's been so long since the two gardians were reunited in this place. And here they were, sitting next to each other, their back against the remains of their tree.

They were sitting in a peaceful silence, just enjoying each other's company. Things were so much different now, they fought for so many years, and now they were at peace. Sure they weren't as close as they used to be, but they were working on it !

It was Dream who broke the silence first.

- So... what's new in the castle ?

Nightmare responded after a few seconds.

- Not much, really. Horror has been baking a lot more recently, he says he wants to learn new recipes, Dust has discovered a new hobby and is now digging up old animal skeletons to clean them and then keep them, and Killer is desperately trying to find a lover.

Dream chuckled a little.

- Well, I hope he'll find one soon then.

Silence then fell over them once again. Nightmare sighed, feeling like sitting there wouldn't lead them anywhere. Dream knew his brother was starting to get bored.

- Do you remember when we were kids ? When we used to run around for hours without getting tired ?

Nightmare nodded, not saying anything, his childhood wasn't filled with happy memories, and remembering those wasn't something he liked to do. Dream sensed the negativity in his brother and frowned, he didn't want to bring back bad memories, they weren't here for that, they were supposed to spend a good day together !

Dream thought for a moment, searching for a way to make Nightmare think about something else, to bring some positive feelings to his brother. He smiled when he had an idea.

- Hey Night, do you know how many tickles it takes to make an octopus laugh?

Nightmare tilted his head, what kind of question was that ? And why did he have a very bad feeling about where this was going ?

- How many ?

- Ten tickles !

Dream said as he jumped on Nightmare without letting him time to say anything. Nightmare let out a surprise yelp before bursting out laughing when he felt Dream squeezing his sides. He should have known Dream was going to do that ! He always did, even when they were kids they would always tickle fight each other !

- DREHEAM NOHO !

Nightmare yelled as he was trying to escape his brother's grip. But Dream was very skilled in terms of tickle fighting, he know how to hold Nightmare so that he wouldn't escape.

- Aww, look at you, just as ticklish as you were before !

Dream teased, making Nightmare blush heavily. He know Nightmare was very weak against tickles, and teases only made it worse.

- SH-SHUHUHUT IHIHIT !!

- No can do brother ~

Dream continued his attack on his poor brother's sides, squeezing them rapidly, sometimes going lower to tickle his hips, and enjoying seeing him struggle to free himself and failing miserably.

- good thing we're alone here, no one can see you like that, otherwise it would have been embarrassing, don't you think ? The great and powerful Nightmare losing all his composure to some tickles ~

God this was like torture to Nightmare ! He felt so weak, so vulnerable, and the teasing wasn't helping at all ! Dream was cruel. Very cruel.

- S-STOHAHAHAP !!

- Stop what ?

- TICKLIHIHING MHEHIHIHI !!

- Oh you want me to tickle you more ? Well of course ! Anything to make my dear brother happy ~

Nightmare almost screamed when Dream started scratching his sides and tummy. He felt like he was gonna die from laughing. His cheeks were a bright blue from how flustered he was right now.

- DREHEHEAM PLEAHAHAHASE !!

Tears started to form in his eye and soon ran down his cheek. Dream watched him totally surrender to his tickles with great joy.

- Okay, okay, I'll stop !

He chuckled as he finally stopped tickling his poor brother and let him catch his breath. He could feel that his brother had fun as positivity was emanating from him. Nightmare was shaking.

- You're okay Night ?

- I'm gonna f*cking kill you... !

Nightmare said, still panting. Dream giggled.

- You sure will.

He smiled, happy to have succeeded in making his brother laugh and have fun.

He knew Nightmare would try to get vengeance, but if that meant spending time with him then he would gladly accept his fate !

~ end ~

[vanillelace]

in my dreams ( park sunghoon )

𝟏𝟏𝟏 ; warnings – angst ( death and mentions of it, mentions of blood ), slight fluff ( the entire fic is sort of like flashbacks or rewinds into the reader’s life ), cursing (a lot I think), quite serious problems like cardiac arrest (illness? unsure) and stroke mentions (i don’t mention them in depth)

𝟏𝟏𝟏 ; pairings – gwisin park sunghoon x y/n, ending includes a different ship that I wanna keep a surprise :)

𝟏𝟏𝟏 ; genre – angst!! the entire fic is sort of supernatural, a bit of fluff, supernatural au, gwisin au (ghost, basically)

𝟏𝟏𝟏 ; wordcount – 14364

𝟏𝟏𝟏 ; synopsis – “in my dreams, you’re here with me.”        in which sunghoon left you long ago, but you still seem to feel him around you, in everything you do.

𝟏𝟏𝟏 ; author's note –  DO READ THIS.        IN MY DREAMS is a fan-fiction written as a part of the ‘So Ends The Myth’ collab hosted by @svngcore . This fiction in no way represents the myth Gwisin (or spirit) accurately. It is my interpretation of the myth, and I’d advise you to research about it separately. On a lighter note, I’ve been trying to get over my writer’s block so here I am! Also, my new school starts May 22 (it’s 23 January 2022 right now) and I won’t be active from then (not like I am anyway 🤡👍).

FIC BELOW THE CUT.

——— PRESENT DAY

“Y/N, you’re zoning out again.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

You bow in apology to your secretary at work, who shakes her head and strides off. “You say this every time, but it doesn’t seem to change. Take a break.”

You hate to admit it, but ever since he left, nothing’s been the same. The effects of the loss on you hadn’t worn off, although it had been over a year since that extremely traumatic night.

The night Sunghoon died.

The night you lost the love of your life.

29 May.

——— 29 MAY, 20XX

“Oh my God, Y/N, you look beautiful.” Sunghoon said, hugging you from behind as you struggled to spray perfume on yourself. “You’re not too bad yourself, Sunghoon,” you grinned, returning his hug as comfortably as you could.

Looking back, that was the last hug you two would share, as you later found out.

“Thanks, sweetheart. Need any help?” He suppressed a laugh as you shook the perfume bottle aggressively, trying to figure out what was wrong with it. Shaking your head in reply, you finally fixed it and sprayed it where it was necessary. Sunghoon chuckled lightly, twirling you around. 

“What’s this all for?” You asked him, laughing in return as he spun you around your bedroom. “Ah, why not, eh?” He replied, placing a kiss on your forehead. You blushed, and he smiled. “When do you want to leave? We can leave right now, we’ll reach in quite enough time.”

“Sure, let’s go.”

That would be one of the last times you would see him without blood scarring his beautiful face.

He opened the door for you to make sure you were able to sit comfortably in your dress, being the gentleman he was. As he sat in the driver’s seat, he said, “Happy anniversary, Y/N.” You smiled and replied, “And a very happy anniversary to you too, Park Sunghoon.”

As he accelerated on the nearly empty road, you wondered how you got so lucky. How did you get such a wonderful boyfriend? 

That was one thing you had never figured out, and it scared you.

All that happiness dissipated within ten seconds. How was it so easy for that emotion to fly away? Or, rather, get shredded so spectacularly? And to be replaced by fear and anxiety so quickly?

You barely registered when the drunk truck driver swerved into your car. Sunghoon hit the brakes as fast as he could, but he was too late.

Within a snap of fate’s cruel fingers, you lost the one lover you had ever laughed and lived your life with. Even loved.

Sunghoon had made sure the impact of the crash would be felt on his side of the car, and the only major injuries you had suffered were mental. Other than that, you had been bruised and scratched.

Sunghoon, on the other hand? Not so much. Or, so less, rather. The glass that had reluctantly broken had pierced into his head, and he had broken a major part of the  right side of his body. You were in a daze as approaching vehicles stopped, and some of them helped you and Sunghoon out of the car. The drunk driver had sped away in fear, and you really hadn’t cared at the time. 

The only thought in your head was that you lost Park Sunghoon.

The love of your life.

And everything would never, ever be the same.

You didn’t feel the tears that streamed down your face, or the pain you felt thanks to the minor cuts on your arm. You were numb. The ambulance arrived and carried the two of you away, but it had barely reached the hospital that the doctors in the vehicle pronounced him dead.

The one thing they (very wrongly) didn’t pronounce dead was your heart, and all your emotions with it.

——— PRESENT DAY

“Earth to Y/N?”

“Yeah, yeah, Yunjin, I’m here,” you tell Huh Yunjin, your closest friend and current roommate. She shakes her head and sighs, sitting next to you on the sofa.

After work, you had taken the bus back home, as you usually did after the accident. You never set foot in a car, and it had been so long. Yunjin kept trying to get you to move on, that is, sit in a car, but she failed miserably every time.

“Y/N, you need to go to therapy. Please understand what I’m saying. It must have been so traumatizing, which I know, so you need to try and heal. You’re letting it disrupt your life. I understand that he was the love of your life. I’m not trying to be insensitive. But please, he wouldn’t have wanted you to live your life out like this.”

“Well, he hopefully didn’t want to die either, but here we are, Yunjin.”

Yunjin bites her lip, and you realize you may have been just a bit too harsh on her. She’s only trying to help you, after all.

“I’m sorry for acting this way, Yunjin, but I’m trying. Please let me try my way. It’s probably difficult to see me like this, wasting away, but really. Sunghoon was all I wanted to be with, apart from you. You have the love of your life, Yunjin. I don’t, and it hurts so much. I’m not saying I’m jealous of you, but don’t you think I don’t know what I’m missing out on? Nothing will be the same even if I try dating someone else. As for the therapist, Yunjin, do you think the newspapers will stay silent if they see me off to the therapist? My mom will say, ‘Ah, Y/N, our failure of a daughter, now off to the shrink? Good. Waste of time.’ And the newspapers will reflect the same.

“Look, I’m trying. If I could have arranged to see a therapist in private, I would’ve. But with my dad ill, I’m all the business has left. Mom has to take care of Dad. She doesn’t have a choice. Once I get a break from work, I’ll definitely work on myself. I swear.

“Thanks for caring, Yunjin.”

“Y/N!” Yunjin cries out, seeing your nose bleed. “Argh, not again…” you sigh, as Yunjin runs for a tissue. The nosebleed problem isn’t quite major, but it is rather annoying. Especially in such situations. Extremely inconvenient. 

“Anyways,” you begin, waiting for Yunjin to continue. “Ah, Y/N, why can’t you just try to ask someone for help, just for once! It’s not going to harm you, or your work. Trust me. Please.”

“Yunjin, we have the same conversation daily, but what good comes out of it? Breathe. I’m working on it. Try meditating. It really helps!”

“Y/N, you use humor to cope. It’s not healthy. Please.”

“Let’s end this right now. I’m too tired to fight. Yunjin, let’s have a meal and sleep. Believe me, I’ll just let the bad times pass by at the company and then get in touch with a therapist.”

You both know that might never happen, but Yunjin decides it’s an okay-ish excuse to begin eating, knowing that nothing ever good comes out of fighting.

—————— 🦢

The nightmares stopped two months ago, but of course, sleep is a tiring process for you. Sunghoon’s comforting arms usually helped you sleep, but that is out of the question now. All you can do is silently fade into the darkness, allowing it to swallow you whole, no matter what you may dream of. To avoid the nightmares, you never think about the accident at night, and always convince yourself, like a fool, that Sunghoon is out on a business trip of some sort, and he will return tomorrow, of course he will. He loves you, so why won’t he?

He loves you, but he’s dead. 

You continue deluding yourself, disapproving of all the unhappy thoughts at night, embracing them during the day. During the day, nightmares can’t haunt you. At night, they attack you from every direction, every angle, battering and bruising you until you are exhausted. But on the bright side, it’s been a while since you’ve had a nightmare.

And God, are you thankful.

As your mind runs through all of this, you twist and turn in your bed, willing yourself to fall asleep for once. The room is dark, just the way you like it, and there’s nothing that you can mistake for an entity of any sort. No chairs with clothes on them that make you wonder if it really is a chair (is it though?) or lights that successfully fail to be stable (your mental health is stabler, which is making a statement).

So why do you feel something on your cheek?

A lover’s caress? The devil’s touch? You’re unsure, but you don’t know how to speak.

Then you see him.

Park Sunghoon.

Definitely the devil’s touch, you think to yourself.

Park Sunghoon, the love of your life, floating leglessly. The same ethereal beauty in all of his features, but more… frightening, yes, that’s the word. Frighteningly handsome. But something’s off.

He’s dead.

If he’s dead…

Who is this?

You want to shriek, scream, call for help, but an invisible object muffles your voice, disallowing you from speaking a single word. 

“Y/N…”

Sunghoon, Sunghoon, you’re dead, but if not, give me a sign that this is you, you desperately think.

“Y/N, it’s me. I can speak. But I’m not alive. I can’t stay in the real world for too long in a visible form, so I will leave you now. Wait for me to communicate with you. Please don’t do anything fatal to yourself. I have seen your every thought, and I know what you are capable of doing to yourself just to be united with me. Stop. I need to go now. Stay… a… live…”

You watch as he fades away with his mystical voice, unable to believe anything.

The one thing you’re sure of is that you definitely need to sleep.

And you definitely should take Yunjin up on her offer of a therapist.

—————— 🦢

“Yunjin, recommend some therapists for me, please,” you mumble as Yunjin prepares breakfast for the two of you. 

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard what I said.”

“Yeah, but I think I can hear it again!” Yunjin turns and smiles at you, and you sigh. “Therapists. Please.”

“Finally. May I ask what convinced you to make this decision?” Yunjin asks sweetly, squeezing some lime into what you assume is a salad.

The previous night’s chaos runs through your head, and you think to yourself. If I even suggest that such a thing happened, she’ll practically kick me out of here to visit a psychiatrist immediately. Maybe I can cut down on the incidents.

“Oh, I thought through our conversation and came to this conclusion, because I realized you were right.”

“We’ve had the same conversation, like, every day. What changed this time?”

“I.. erm.. I opened my mind to your words..?”

You know Yunjin can’t be so easily swayed, but she accepts it with an inclination of her head. “Sure, I’ll accept that for now, until you decide to tell me what really happened. Anyways, I think I’ll leave for work now, have your breakfast, and drink some water. I’ve packed your lunch, you don’t need to cook, but dinner’s on you. Bye! Have a nice day, Y/N.”

“You too, Yunjin. What’re you doing at work today?”

Yunjin works as an influencer, a job so flexible it suits Yunjin perfectly. She usually vlogs, but she produces music occasionally, too. You’ve heard her voice so often, but it’s very, very difficult to find it dull. Her voice has a soothing aura about it, and when she hits each note, you’ll think to yourself, yes, this is how music should be sung.

So it’s not very surprising when you check her YouTube to see that she has over ten million subscribers. Her channel, Jenaissante, is popular for the down-to-earth vlogs she creates, and you occasionally feature on it, too.

As heir to one of the biggest record labels in the industry, ZEN Entertainment, you have a public image to maintain, and God, does it get stressful. You’re an only child, and your father is in a critical condition. Your mother is quite harsh, but you know it’s all for your own good. She is the only reason you have such a strong image in public, and the reason your father is still alive.

———   JANUARY 20XX

A few months before Sunghoon’s death, the two of you were on your way to your family home. But before you were even home, your mother called.

One call that changed how your life was.

“Y/N! It’s your father, he had a cardiac arrest, we’re at the hospital, meet us there. You know the one. The doctors aren’t sure he’ll make it. Please come as soon as you can.”

Your eyes went wide, and you turned to Sunghoon, who was extremely confused.

“Y/N, what is it?”

You remained silent, still trying to process everything. “Y/N! Answer me, please!”

“Sunghoon, it’s my father. He’s had a heart attack. I’ll drive, switch places.”

“No, Y/N, I’ll drive. You’re in shock. Just send me the location. What did your mother say? Will he be fine?”

“The doctors aren’t sure if he’ll make it, Sunghoon. I sent you the location. Please, let’s get there as fast as possible.”

By some miracle, he made it. Your mother was in tears. That was one of the days you saw her completely broken.

———   FEBRUARY, THE SAME YEAR

That happiness didn’t last for long. The next month, your father had a stroke. He was left unable to remember a major part of his life, and almost paralyzed. His communication was limited in terms of spoken language, but he communicated just fine through other means. He remembered you, your family, Yunjin, but couldn’t recollect Sunghoon’s presence in his life. He remembered his company, but was unable to run it, leaving its burden on you.

You weren’t angry about it. It wasn’t his fault. Your mother didn’t want you to do his work, because the industry was incredibly toxic, and words were flung around carelessly at each and every setting. But did you have a choice?

After your father had a stroke, your mother had to look after him, but she did attend board meetings whenever she could online. Sunghoon helped you as much as possible, but he had his own work to do, too.

Yunjin assisted in your work wherever she could. The marketing aspect of your work was done by Yunjin on behalf of you, because she had a better idea of it.

When Sunghoon died, however, Yunjin took over your work with your secretary, putting a hold on her own life for you. Your mother attended board meetings and you looked after your father. He was rapidly healing, but he did have the occasional loss in memory. His paralysis would always be present, but he was regaining use of his speech, making life easier for you and your mother.

He was trying his best to make it easy for you, because your mother explained whom you had lost. At the funeral, you and your family met with Sunghoon’s parents, who were heartbroken.

“We don’t have any reason at all to blame you. I just hope you heal, honey, because that’s what our son would’ve wanted.” Mr Park was extremely understanding, and so was his wife. After that statement, you apologized profusely and bowed, and Mrs Park, unable to speak, hugged you tightly.

That was another day your own mother was completely broken, seeing her daughter grieving.

—————— 🦢

Your brain swimming with thoughts, too many thoughts, you leave your house, heading into work. After a few months, you took over from Yunjin again, allowing Yunjin to go back to her work. Your secretary was like a sister to you at the time, and continues to be one. 

“Welcome, Y/N, what would you like to drink?”

“Relax, Kazuha, I’ll prepare something for you instead. What do you want?”

Kazuha grins, “A coffee would be good. You know my type, right?”

“Yeah, no sugar, black coffee, whipped cream on the side. Quite weird, but okay, I guess.”

Kazuha thumps your back in indignation, walking off to pick up your mail. You laugh and go to the kitchen, bumping into one of your artists, Nishimura Riki.

“Oh, hi, Riki, how come you’re at the company today?”

“Ah, Ms Y/N, hello,” he bows, and smiles. “My vocal trainer asked me to meet here, he wants to try recording a demo.”

“Interesting! What time? I’ll see if I can make it, my schedule isn’t that busy today.”

“In an hour or so. Hope to see you there, ma’am.”

You smile and bow, and leave the kitchen with the coffees in hand. “Hey, Kazuha, what’s this I hear about Ni-ki recording a demo? Didn’t he release a whole album, like, last month?”

Kazuha nods, sipping her coffee. “Yeah, he did, but if I’m not wrong, he’s taking a break from work for two months on behalf of his exams. He’s about to finish an early bachelor’s degree in Japanese and also in Economics.”

“Oh, wow! That’s great. How come I wasn’t aware of this?”

“Oh.. this was approved when Yunjin was working with me. I gave you a file on it, remember?”

“Ah. Must’ve slipped my mind. Sorry. What’s on our schedules today?”

“You’ll be meeting with the rival company’s CEO for lunch in three hours. I’ll be 

meeting with an artist from another company whose contract is going to end soon to see if she’ll join us. You asked me to check when her contract ends, remember? Hanni Pham?”

“Ah, yes. Isn’t she in a group, though?”

“They might join us. I’ll check. If she and her group joins us, we’re in for a good time at the company.”

“I soundly agree, Kazuha. Good luck getting them to join us, though. When exactly do they get to renew their contracts?”

“Around four more months. May, I think.”

Ah. Shit.

“You okay, Y/N?”

“Yeah, definitely. You’re leaving right now?”

“I have to, it’s far away. Hopefully this meeting goes well. Take care!” Kazuha crosses her fingers and leaves the room, and you wave after her.

Get it together, Y/N. This is an important part of your time as CEO of ZEN Entertainment. If NewJeans joins you, you’re set for life.

It will be two years then. Will you be able to manage to stay under control?

—————— 🦢

“Hello, Ms Y/N.” The producer hops to his feet and bows, and so does Ni-ki. “Hello. I was curious about the production, which Ni-ki told me about. So I’m here to just watch. I’ll be doing my work, but I’ll be paying attention. Go about your work and pretend I’m not there!”

The producer nods, and goes back into discussion with Ni-ki. “I’m thinking we do something from your usual concept. What we’ve seen from you is a… dark theme, but we can try something brighter this time. Who’s to say that you can’t do a cute concept?”

“I actually agree. Let’s go for it. So do we go with the lyrics I provided, or the one the lyricist did?”

“I think we can go with a mix. Let’s work on that for the next hour or so. We also have a backing track ready, but I might have to get that modified. We won’t be doing a ballad, right?”

“No, I don’t feel like that’s going to suit me very much.”

“Okay then. Let’s get to work on the lyrics. ma’am, would you like to oversee this? Since Ni-ki wrote a lot of potential lyrics.”

“Sure.” You get up, walking over to where there are multiple sheets of words written in messy handwriting. 

“Ignore the mess, please. I work better when I’m in a rush.” Ni-ki smiles, sorting the whole mess out. “It’s fine, don’t worry. You’re a very young artist. I’m honestly glad to see you comfortable with creating your own music. It goes a long way, believe me.”

“Thank you, I’m honored,” Ni-ki bows, and pins some sheets together. “Uhm, ma’am, I need to take this call, will it be fine if you’re here? It’s a personal emergency.”

“Don’t worry, take the call. I’ll be here.”

The producer rushes out, speaking in his native language incredibly quickly. “Anyway, I like the look of these lyrics. I think you’ve had a… messed up, partying teen vibe with some vampires in the mix?”

“Yeah, indeed. I honestly didn’t know where the concept would go. So I came up with these. A sudden change in the concept will shoo some of my fans away. But I think I’ll gain some fans too. That’s beneficial to both me and the company, so.. yeah.”

“Valid point. So you’re going for a teen love concept now?”

“Yep. I’m not boasting, but I am very young. So I should go with such concepts, because as a teenager myself, it’s easy for me to represent such topics.”

“Right. You are very smart, Ni-ki. I like it. You have a mind made for such work.”

“Thank you.”

As you both settle in comfortable silence, you read the lyrics carefully. The album Ni-ki is working on revolves around the theme of young love, right from the meeting to the goodbyes. You can’t help but think of your goodbye to your first love, but you shake away the thoughts.

«It was a pretty sunset, 

We didn’t want the moment to end

Right from the hello, you caught my eye

And now I just can’t say goodbye

To you, the one I like

If this is young love, I don’t want it

To you I can’t bear to bid a farewell

If it’s you I’ll love, please don’t be my first

I know how first loves end, all too well

Is this what young love is?

After that day, we met often

We both knew we had fallen

The first handshake, you caught my eye

And now I just can’t say goodbye

To you, the one I like

If this is young love, I don’t want it

To you I can’t bear to bid a farewell

If it’s you I’ll love, please don’t be my first

I know how first loves end, all too well

Is this what young love is?

Just stay a while, stay right there

Maybe then we’ll last forever

Just don’t fall for me, let’s not be our firsts

We both know how this is going to end

If this is young love, I can’t have it

To you, one day, I’ll say goodbye

I can’t have you, if you’ll be my first

Can’t bear to see you cry

Is this what young love is?

This is what young love is»

“Ni-ki, this is amazing. Seriously.”

“Thank you. I’m going to combine it with the lyricist’s bridge, though. I don’t like the one I wrote.”

“You can do what you want, but this is really good. I like the ending. If you play it right, this can be a masterpiece. You need to conclude it well, so that the listener bursts into tears.”

“I don’t exactly want my fans to cry—“

“But that’s the sign of a good song —“

“So I’ll have to make them cry.” Ni-ki finished, pursing his lips together.

“Yeah, pretty much.” You grin, lounging in the chair.

“Okay then. The goal is now to make people cry. Good.” Ni-ki says, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Are you being sarcastic to your boss?” You ask teasingly, and he aggressively shakes his head. 

“Oh, no, of course not.” Ni-ki hastily retracts his words, and you laugh.

Suddenly, something catches your eye. “Ni-ki, is this yours?”

“How can it be? It has a name engraved on it. Could be the producer’s.”

He takes the briefcase that you’re holding to check the name.

“Uhm.. ma’am, it says Park Sung-hoon on it..”

You blink. “What?” “Yes. And I know for a fact the producer is not Park Sung-hoon. Oh, you know what? Could be the choreographer’s. Park Ji-sung. Maybe we’re reading it wrong—“

“Give it to me. Let’s see if we’re really wrong.”

You snatch the briefcase and see the name engraved in it. “It’s Park Sung-hoon, alright. And I’m also sure that I don’t have a single employee with that name who visited here today. I’ll announce this.”

“But maybe you should open it? Just in case they have documents of themselves. It would make it easier for you.”

“Right. Smart idea.” You say, unzipping the case.

And immediately you drop it.

“It’s my dead boyfriend’s.”

—————— 🦢

You had a panic attack after that little incident, and Ni-ki had to take you to the on-hand nurse, meant for the artists. 

“You fine, ma’am?” The nurse asks, concerned at the expression your face holds. “Yeah, I am. Thank you. Where’s Ni-ki?”

“He’s outside.”

You get up to meet him, and he immediately gets up from the chair he was sitting on, seeing you exit consciously. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. But I am so confused,” you mumble, lost in thought. 

Am I going crazy? Are these signs?

“You aren’t crazy,” Ni-ki assures you, as if he read your mind. “It’s a normal reaction that an average human would show. Don’t worry. You worry too much, and this was just a small side effect of that worry. Go home, and get some rest. Believe me. You need it.”

You nod absentmindedly and wave at Ni-ki, who waves back with a look of concern, knowing nothing in what he said went into your head. 

You walk on, in your own train of thoughts, and you don’t even notice when you walk into another employee. “Argh—“

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry, are you fine?” You ask, helping the unknown person up. “Yes, I am, thank you, ma’am,” he mumbles in a deep voice, gathering his papers. “This may seem rude, but who are you?”

“I’m actually a choreographer, my name’s Park Ji-sung. And I know who you are, obviously. Nice to meet you.” He answers, smiling and offering his free hand for you to shake. You do so, and help him organize his papers. “What are these for, if I may ask?”

“These are actually my personal documents, I always carry a set of them with me just in case.”

“Documents, as in?”

“Passports, medical records, etc.”

“I see. And these?”

“One of my artist's songs. In fact, here he comes. Ni-ki, hey.”

“Oh, hi, Jisung, I see you met Ms. Y/N. ma’am, he choreographed my hit song, Sweet Season.”

You remember vaguely that the song went viral for its unique choreography, and the footwork being incredibly detailed. People were also talking about the up-and-coming choreographer, but you didn't know at the time who he was at all.

“Oh! That’s great. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Park. I’m so glad you’re in charge of Ni-ki’s new song. It’s going to be great.”

“You’ve seen the lyrics?”

“Yes, and approved. We were in the studio not too long ago.” You smile, and Ni-ki nods. “Yeah, then she had an emergency to attend to, so I walked her off.” He adds, and Jisung nods his head slowly. 

“I see. It’s been really nice talking to you, ma’am, but I really have to get started on Ni-ki’s choreography. If you’ve approved the song, I’ll assume that it’s going to be released. Ni-ki, let’s go. Goodbye, Ms. Y/N.”

“Bye ma’am!” Ni-ki waves, and you call after them, “You guys can call me by my name!”

“Bye, Y/N!” Jisung turns and bows, then rushes to the practice room. You smile, getting back to your office.

Ni-ki and Jisung seem fun.

—————— 🦢

“Kazuha! Hi! How was the meeting?”

“WE HAVE THEM ON BOARD!”

Kazuha runs up to you and hugs you tightly, and you pat her back. “Let’s celebrate. Are you free after work? Dinner’s on me back home with Yunjin, so I would much rather take you guys out. You’ve seen my cooking, haven’t you?”

Kazuha shudders jokingly, and smiles. “Definitely free. Will it be just the three of us?”

“I might invite Ni-ki and his choreographer. I feel like we’ll all get along really well.”

“Okay. That’s fine.”

“Come with me after work, you can come over to my house and get ready with me and Yunjin. You’re done with all your meetings, right? Go home, and pack some clothes.”

“Okay, then I’ll come back to the office, and leave with you?”

“Yep.”

“Alright.”

“Pack clothes to stay over, just in case we get back late.”

“Alright. Also, have you met with the CEO already?”

Shit.

“Y/N!”

“I’M LEAVING! GOING RIGHT NOW!” You hurriedly grab your coat and purse and rush out of your office, going to the nearest bus stop and sitting in a corner.

“Ma’am, I’m on my way. My apologies, I didn’t mean to be this late, but an emergency popped up.”

“No worries, ma’am. I’m waiting. When you reach, ask for Yoo Ji-min.”

“Sure, I will. See you there.”

You disconnect the phone, sighing in relief. Yoo Ji-min is the CEO of MY Entertainment.

Jimin has a nice personality, and the two of you aren’t really on bad terms. However, you do sometimes have friendly arguments over who gets to scout whom. You still haven’t reached a conclusion on that argument, but for the sake of being civil, the two of you agreed to push it under the rug for now. 

As you reach the stop, you exit the bus, looking around for the restaurant that Jimin has reserved for the meeting. “Hi, table for two under the name Yoo Ji-min?” You ask the receptionist, slightly out of breath, who nods, leading you to a table in the back. 

“Jimin!”

“Y/N!”

She gets up from her seat, looking as pretty as ever in a formal black dress. “Nice to see you. So glad you could make it. How’ve you been?”

“I’m okay, Jimin. It’s great to see you, too. How are you doing lately? I hear that you’ve been busy, based on the amount of work your company has been doing.”

“Yeah, I’m good. But busy indeed. Honestly, the amount of time I’ve been spending at the company is more than the time I spend at home. Super hectic, but that's fine. As a CEO, that’s bound to happen.”

“Indeed. You should probably take a break, though.”

“And let you steal the show?” Jimin laughs teasingly. “I don’t think so.”

“Come on, Jimin. Thought we were over this by now.”

“Yeah, yeah. Anyways, I didn’t call you here on business. I just called you to meet, as acquaintances.”

“Really? And you don’t want anything from me?”

“Nope. I owe you many favors, but I just can’t seem to get the opportunity to repay them. I should be asking you if you need anything.”

“I don’t. Maybe a break would be nice though.”

Jimin laughs with you, nodding her head. “Maybe we can take a break together.”

“Someday, when everything is back to normal at our companies. But I think we would have to be friends for that.”

“You made a good point there, Y/N. Well, I do want to be friends with you, but it might get odd at times. Do you know, I barely have any friends?”

“I do, actually. This industry gets so lonely, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. Minjeong, Ning and Aeri are the only people helping my sanity at the moment, to be quite frank with you.”

“Yunjin and Kazuha too, although Kazuha isn’t so much a friend as a sister to me. And Yunjin is practically family to even my parents now.”

“I could say the same about Ning. Although I’m getting to know the other two better now, thankfully.”

The waiter comes over to take your orders, and the two of you order non-alcoholic drinks. The waiter nods and walks away, leaving you two alone again.

“I just had a great idea. How about we girls get together? Just us? You, me, my three friends, Yunjin and Kazuha?”

“Sounds good, but I’ll get back to you on that. I have some stuff going on with some of my artists, but that should be over in a month or two. What about then?”

“I agree, my work should have died down by then. Let’s do it. Should we swear on it?” Jimin asks jokingly, and you nod, mock seriously. “Let’s.”

The two of you laugh lightly, and enjoy the rest of the meeting with small talk.

—————— 🦢

That was awkward at the start, but Jimin really is nice. One day, when we both quit our jobs, I hope we stay friends. You think to yourself, entering your office with your head down. 

“Hi, Ms. Y/N! Ms. Nakamura informed us that you invited us to dinner?”

You nod, seeing Kazuha, Ni-ki, and Park Jisung in your office, and answer Ni-ki. “Yeah, I did. We just signed an important contract, and I felt like inviting you guys for fun. Don’t think of this as a conflict of interest, but I would like to get to know you guys better.”

“I wouldn’t think of it as anything else, but we know you’re friends with Ms. Kazuha over here.” Jisung says in his signature deep voice. “Right!” Ni-ki agrees, and you smile. “Anyway, you guys can meet us there, it’s the trending new restaurant everyone’s obsessed about. I got us a reservation there.”

“Wait, really?” Kazuha asks, slightly surprised. “Yeah, I just never asked you to book a table,” you laugh at Kazuha’s expression. 

After a bit of discussion of the plans, the boys leave and you and Kazuha head back to your place, where Yunjin is waiting to pounce on you. 

“Y/N! How was the lunch I packed for you?” She asks sweetly, and your heart drops. “Oh.. eh.. it was nice, but since I couldn’t eat all of it, I gave it to the choreographer, Park Jisung.” Kazuha, to her credit, says nothing and smiles furtively at you from behind Yunjin. 

“Ah, isn’t he coming with us? I’ll definitely check with him.”

As soon as Yunjin leaves, you stuff the rice she had packed for you in the morning into a different box and hide it away in the refrigerator. Kazuha giggles and walks away, zipping her lips as a sign of secrecy. 

The three of you get dressed, and help each other with your hair, makeup and what-not. You leave just in time in order to reach the restaurant to claim your reservation, and when you reach, you see the guys already seated at the table.

“We assumed that the table would be under your name,” Jisung shrugs. “You assumed well, I suppose, because otherwise you wouldn’t be here,” Yunjin says, sitting down. “I’d assume you’re Park Jisung. So, tell me, how did you like the rice I prepared? Y/N gave it to you, right?”

“Yes, she did. I loved it. The spice, however, was not up to my level,” Jisung smirks. “Oh. So she did give it to you. Fine, Y/N, I believe you.” Yunjin accepts defeat and moves on to talk to Ni-ki about his exams.

Kazuha also gets involved in the conversation, leaving you and Jisung to talk. “I owe you one,” You say to Jisung, who smiles. “Yeah, you do. You’d gone out for a meal with Yoo Ji-min, right? It’s all over the news.” He says casually, and you frown.

“Is it? Strange. What are they saying?” “You don't need to know, but they basically say you’re out.. having fun, and they can’t help but wonder about some things. Forget it, you really don’t have to know.”

“No, tell me. What do they wonder about?”

“Ms. Y/N—“

“Go ahead.”

“They’re wondering if you already moved on from..”

“Oh.”

Jisung scrutinizes your micro expressions, and he pats your hand. “Ma’am, you don’t have to worry about what they say. I just believe it’s in your best interest if you know.”

“I see. Thank you for informing me. I won’t comment on them, of course. Best to let the fire die down by itself. Besides, she’s a rival CEO. Even if I become friends with her, no one would believe us, quite frankly.”

“You’re right! See, this is why you shouldn’t bother with this. They just believe what they want to.”

“I genuinely hate the press sometimes.” “Everyone in the industry does, ma’am.” He replies. “You don’t have to call me ma’am, Mr. Park.”

“In that case, you don’t have to call me Mr. Park, Y/N.”

“Right you are, Jisung.”

And so the evening goes on, and everyone gets along surprisingly well. “Cheers to this wonderful evening. Ni-ki, I really hope that’s not alcohol.”

“It isn’t, mom. It’s just apple juice, I swear.” You nod sarcastically and toast. 

The evening ends after dinner, and everyone parts their ways. Kazuha goes home, since it isn’t really late. You and Yunjin head home and go to your own rooms. 

“Y/N.”

You start in shock, and turn around slowly. “Y/N, don’t be scared. I swear, I’m safe. You’re safe.”

“Sunghoon, I’m going crazy. You’re dead, and my mind just doesn’t want to accept it.”

“I am dead, but this is my spirit. I’ve come back as a Gwisin, Y/N. The reason I’m here is so you move on from me. And I’m here right now to convince you. Like I said last time, I can’t be here for too long. So listen to me. You need to move on. If I don’t come to the real world for some time, I can save up on energy and I can stay for longer. The briefcase? It was me. Look, I’ll come back in two days. Or a week. Keep a watch for me. I’ll try to stay with you forever, but it’s not gonna happen, for sure. You aren’t going crazy, just remember that.

“Even if I’m gone, it doesn’t mean you can’t be happy. Stay alive, Y/N.”

“Sunghoon!” You call out softly, but he’s gone already.

He’s gone, like he always is.

—————— 🦢

“Y/N, have you seen the headlines? The news outlets are having a field day with last night’s dinner.” Yunjin wakes you up in the morning with incredible news.

“What is it?” You yawn. Thanks to Sunghoon’s speech, you had not gotten even a wink of sleep the previous night.

“People think you’re dating Park Jisung. Some are saying that you’re showing favoritism toward Ni-ki. And there are now rumors of me and Ni-ki, which is SO wrong.”

“Ugh, I’ll talk to Kazuha about this crap. I guess I’ll release a press release. And you should ignore the Ni-ki rumors, I’ll get our agency to release some announcement about it. And don’t worry, you can post, but I think I can use this to some advantage, so please wait, would you?”

“Y/N, I trust you, so I’ll wait. But please don’t let this blow up badly.”

“I won’t, I promise.” You cross a finger over your heart, doing the iconic promise thing. Yunjin smiles, sipping her tea. “Right, it’s my turn for breakfast. What do you want?” 

“You know, I have been craving a Greek yogurt bowl..”

“The yogurt you made? And adding açaí in it with that vanilla essence?”

“Yes! You know me so well. And maybe that matcha coffee latte I love.”

“On it. Anything else?”

“Nope! Thank you.”

You smile and turn away to prepare your breakfast and Yunjin’s bowl and latte. Yunjin usually makes her own latte, so her entrusting you with it must mean something, definitely. She makes the matcha part and coffee part, mixes them both in milk and ice, and then adds honey as a sweetener. It tastes heavenly, but it takes too much thinking for you to actually make it daily.

“Here’s your breakfast. Let’s have a good meal!”

The two of you eat, gossiping about the goings-on in Yunjin’s industry, you gasping when you hear shocking stuff. After the meal, the two of you rush off to get ready, and wish each other luck on your respective days. 

You groan as you enter your office, not looking forward to talking to Kazuha about the rumors flying left, right and center. “Morning, Y/N. I take it you’ve seen the news.”

Kazuha’s grim face greets you at the door, and you nod, rubbing your forehead to try and relieve yourself. “Well then, what do we do?” Kazuha asks you, and you think about it.

“I think we should do two press releases. One for the dating rumors of me and Jisung, and the one of Yunjin and Ni-ki, which is TERRIBLE, by the way. The second one should be handled carefully. The other press release will be about the alleged favoritism. Can you make it so we’re promoting his new album and denying the partiality? Something like, ‘Ms. Y/N congratulates their young and successful artist, Ni-ki, on his new self-produced album by treating him and his choreographer to dinner with her assistant Ms. Kazuha and best friend and popular influencer Huh Yunjin.’ I’m sure it’s not a crime.”

“That’s genius. I’ll get the PR team to do something. Is it fine if the favoritism article comes in a newspaper instead of the agency? It’ll sound better that way.”

“Yes, but consult the PR. And ask the two to meet me here. I’ll get to work on the NewJeans contract draft.”

“Yes, you do that. You don’t really have anything else, I think. If you can talk to the creative and talents team about the new auditions, it would be great.  And you should probably meet the group personally. I’ll plan something for you later.” 

“Thanks, Kazuha. Good luck with the PR.”

“Good luck with your work too.”

Kazuha leaves the room, shutting the door behind her, and you sigh to yourself, thinking about what to begin working on first. The wind is howling, unexpectedly, since the sun is shining bright outside the window. You look around, the whooshing and howling sounding bizarre looking at the weather. 

Suddenly, a paper flies in the room, from God knows where. You hesitate, knowing hate letters are common. But your instincts are telling you to read the paper, and who are you to ignore them?

You’re protected, Y/N.

Lots of love, P.SH.

“ARGH!” You shriek, wondering what was wrong with whoever sent this. Then you notice a little P.S. written at the bottom of the note. 

Turn the page over.

You obey, curiosity getting the better of you.

I know you’re thinking this is a joke, or a prank, but it isn’t. 

Want me to prove it?

Still saving up energy, but I’ll see you in three days.

I used up some of it to get this note to you.

Being a Gwisin isn’t easy work, dearest Y/N.

But I remember the dinner we had with your parents, before your father had that terrible stroke. We’d gone for sushi, because that was the most convenient for all of us, but we ended up staying back because you and your father wanted to watch football. It was incredibly funny.

What the fuck? You think to yourself, as the door bangs open to reveal Park Jisung.

“Y/N! I heard your shout, are you fine?” He looks at the paper in your hand, and stalks toward you, snatching the paper.

“JISUNG, DON’T—“

“Y/N, with all due respect, what the fuck is this?” Jisung breathes, looking up at you. “Is this some sort of joke? Because we — I mean, you — can sue, you know—“

“No, Jisung. You’ll definitely find me crazy, insane or psychotic based off of what I’m about to tell you, but.. remember Park Sunghoon? Uhm, he’s come back as a ghost, known as —“

“Gwisin?”

“…Yeah, how did you -?”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not one and neither have I personally had an experience with one. But it’s a popular myth, and now I’m starting to reconsider the myth part of it. Besides, it was on the note, Y/N. And, just so you know, I’m also reconsidering what I know about you, because either you’ve officially lost it, or ghosts are real, and Ghostbusters wasn’t fiction. I’m doubting myself at the moment.”

“Um. You don’t have to ever talk to me again, if you’re uncomfortable with me, but please don’t tell this to anyone. If you’re not believing me, I doubt anyone will. And Yunjin and Kazuha will definitely not leave me alone ever again.”

“Relax, I won’t. Believe me or don’t, but my friend Haechan enjoys scaring me this way. At this point, he might as well convince me to join a cult. I won’t,” Jisung added hastily, as if he thought you might find him dangerous and fire him, and continued, “But I’ll get back to you on the whole how-I-feel-about-this situation.

You nod, incredibly glad he hasn’t reported you or yelled for help yet, and say, “You don’t need to remember this. Just please don’t say anything to anyone else.”

“You got it. And maybe keep your shrieking on the low, people will definitely think something’s up. Believe me, I genuinely nearly screamed myself when I heard your shout. It was.. what’s the word? Bloodcurdling. Fancy word, but really. Be thankful it’s me who came here and not Niki or Kazuha. Those two would’ve freaked, for sure.”

You nod slowly, realizing that luck is on your side today. In a way.

Woah, that rhymed.

Not the time, Y/N.

“Ah, I got it. Thanks, Jisung. Off topic, but did you have any work right now?”

“No, but given the current situation, I would be glad to leave you alone to think. No offense or anything, but you need time to yourself. Like, if you were going to invite me for coffee in the cafeteria or something. Not that you would or should or anything, don’t be morally obligated or whatever, but—“

“Relax, I get it. And for moral obligation reasons, I won’t say if I was going to invite you or not. Anyway, you’re right, I should spend time alone. I have work, anyway. Go, enjoy your break. Thanks again, Jisung. I owe you one.”

Jisung smiles and leaves, and you realize that you were going to invite him for a coffee, but good thing he had his priorities straight. And he really did make a good point, you had to think. It was a creepy note, yes, but what was creepy anymore? Did anything even count as supernatural? What next, would Spider-Man appear outside her office’s door and give her a cupcake?

“Knock knock!” 

The door swung open to reveal Spider-Man himself.

Yes, that’s it. I’ve lost it. 

Spider-Man took off his mask to reveal none other than Nishimura Riki, who had assumed it was the right day to dress up for work. “Here’s a box of cupcakes, to thank you for the dinner and to also thank you for helping me out with the scandal. It created publicity, but thanks for helping shutting it down. Kazuha Ma’am told me that it was your idea.”

“The scandal?!”

“No, the usage of it. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade!” Riki smiled, placing the box of cupcakes on your table. “Or, rather, when life gives you money, buy Spider-Man outfits and give people cake!”

You laugh at the joke, and say, “You’re really starting to sound like Spider-Man with those sad little jokes and puns, Riki. You’re on break right now?”

“Nope, I’m actually wrapping things up for today. I came to work early and worked overtime last week, so that I could spend time with my family today.”

“You really don’t have to sacrifice your time for your work—“ “No, it’s for my fans. Before I go on hiatus.”

“Nice to see you so dedicated, Niki, but take my advice seriously. This industry can take a lot out of someone.”

“And I’m sure you’re right, but really, I got this. Don’t worry. Anyway, I should probably get changed before I leave the building, or the fans in question will never let me live this down. I can already picture the headlines — “Nishimura Riki, youngest idol / ace of Zen Entertainment, spoils latest comeback in a Spider-Man outfit, rocking it!” “Nishimura Riki to star in the newest Spider-Man outfit, proof here!” It would be so embarrassing…”

“Well, to be fair, and honest, you look good! It’s a good quality costume too, so there are very few memes that can be made. Unless you were holding coffee, or alcohol. I can picture everything then.” You say, struggling to hold back your laughter after imagining the memes.

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, CEO. Have a nice day. And get some lunch.” Riki waves as he leaves to find the nearest restroom to change.

You smile, biting into a cupcake, only to find it full of spicy chilies. 

“NISHIMURA RIKI!” You shout, very angry. The door slams open yet again, this time revealing a Spider-Man with no socks on and Jisung, looking very worried. “Oh. My. God.” Riki mouths, as realization dawns on him.

“I gave you the wrong cupcakes. Those were meant for my sister. I am so sorry. Here, try biting into this one, it should be red velvet and cream cheese.” He points to another cupcake in the box, and you obey.

“… NIKI!”

“SHOOT, WAS THAT FILLED WITH CHILLIES TOO?”

“No. It was tomato this time. And the white part, you may be wondering? Radish purée.”

“Um.. I’ll just get you the other box of cupcakes.. you can ask Mr Park to taste-test them for you?” Niki slips out the door, and you sigh.

“I would taste them for you, but I’d rather not take the risk, sorry, Y/N.” Jisung says, and you smile understandingly, unable to talk over the disgusting mix of flavors that are floating around in your mouth. “Thanks for understanding. Anyway, I’m going to assume you didn’t get an opportunity to think about whatever went on with that note. But I gave it a thought, and you should be alone. Finish off whatever work’s a priority right now, and go home. Really. That note would be enough to send me a one-way ticket to a therapist’s office. You can inform Kazuha about your absence, and I’m sure  she’ll understand. I’ll take my leave, and enjoy the cupcakes Niki will get you. I helped him pick out both the prank box and sweet box.”

Jisung salutes you and leaves, leaving you staring after him in wonder. Swallowing a bit of water to rinse out the taste of the disgusting cupcake, you think about the events as the door bangs open yet again.

“Ma’am, I’m here with your cupcakes. I sincerely apologize, and I would understand if you fire —“

“Niki, you need to relax. I enjoy jokes too, you know. Depending on the context. And I’m sure your sister’s reaction would’ve been priceless. Anyway, help yourself to a cupcake. I’ll be leaving the building now, too. And please, please be scared of Jisung. He told me he helped you pick out the boxes of cupcakes? He could’ve picked out something really special for you, too.”

Niki’s eyes go wide, processing your words, and yelps. “Oh no, oh no, I asked him to help me pick my lunch! Um, I’ll leave, Ma’am. Thanks for the word of advice, I really appreciate it. Uh, bye!”

Niki runs away, still in his Spider-Man outfit, as you sigh. Ah, I seriously think my employees really would excel at standup comedy sometimes.

Laughing to yourself, you meet a representative from the talents team, asking them to organize a meeting with you and someone from the creative team after lunch. Then, you attempt to find Kazuha, who is sitting in the PR room, shouting at someone on a call. The people in the room look up and bow, seeing you enter. An employee pokes Kazuha and points at you, who hastily turns, ending the call. “Yes, Ms. Y/N?” She asks you, gesturing the rest of the room to get back to work. 

“Oh, I’m leaving, I’m done for the day. Something personal came up. I’m taking the meeting with the talent team and creative team online, and I’ve arranged it all myself. You can take a break too, and so can the PR once the releases are all done. And feel free to treat yourselves to lunch on the company card. Just don’t go all out at a 5-star restaurant or something, I genuinely can’t finance that yet. Maybe some other time. Alright?”

Kazuha nods, smiling at the room, who look ready to cheer. “Thank you, Ma’am.” The room bows, as you leave, and Kazuha follows you, shutting the door behind her. “Are you fine, Y/N?” She asks you, scrutinizing your body language and facial expressions.

“Yes, Kazuha. Just a bit tired. Don’t worry, I’m fine, and if anything comes up, I think Yunjin will be at home. Ah, that reminds me. She’s supposed to make a post about the dating rumors, which are still so wrong, can you update her on our PR team’s work? She’ll talk to her management, I think.”

“Sure, I’ll give her a call and see if I can meet her for lunch. She did tell me she would be at home today at the dinner yesterday.”

“Alright then, that’s settled. Ah, and Niki and Jisung met me, although we didn’t get around to discussing much. Niki thanked me for the handling of the situation, by the way. But I’ll talk to Jisung tomorrow.”

“Okay, that should be fine. Bye, Ma’am.” Kazuha opens the door and slips back in, and you wave her off, leaving the building with a little sign of a headache building up.

—————— 🦢

You get back home, exhausted by the events of the day and grab your lunch. You sit for the meeting, discussing the new trainees that are to be accepted soon, and idols that they wished to sign a contract with. The meeting lasts for about an hour, and you stretch yourself after the meeting, trudging up to your room to try and take a nap. Unfortunately, your brain refuses to fall asleep after the note, and you end up laying in bed and wondering about the whole incident.

You suddenly recall that Jisung was there to witness the note, and you wonder if he’ll stay true to his word forever. As you delve deeper into your thoughts, you jump when you hear a phone ringing.

Your phone, in fact.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Hi, this is Huh Yunjin speaking. Is Ms. Y/N free at the moment?” You hear your best friend’s sarcastic voice, and smile. “Of course I am. Anything for you.”

“Woah, woah, lay off on the lines, Y/N. I might just end up dating you.” You could hear the wink that Yunjin would’ve produced if she was right next to you.

“Ha, ha, ah yes, what a joke, I laughed. Anyway, what’s up? Did you eat?”

“I did, but I called to check on you. I hope you ate too?”

“Yeah, I did, mom. Is that why you called?”

“That, and Kazuha called. Thanks for helping me sort it out. Ugh. That is illegal and so wrong. What is wrong with people?”

“I’d have to agree. Anyway, when are you getting home?”

“Um, should be around six. Anything up?”

“Nope. Just checking. Get back safe.”

“Will do, Ma’am. Bye!”

“Bye!” You disconnect the call, smiling lightly as you feel grateful for having such a lovely friend by your side.

You and I both know that wouldn’t last for long if she knew you think ghosts spoke to you.

Oh, shut up, you. You tell yourself, plopping back down on your bed. You just know that this whole dilemma will reach a head soon, but till then you’ll have to wait it out. But why does life make it so difficult to tolerate this?

Thankfully, Sunghoon isn’t due for another two days at least. Whether it’s him, or any of his notes or signs or whatever it was he could think of, you’re determined to not let it get to you and not to lose it. But in all honesty, that’s the most you can do. Because it’s not in your control to get in touch with a freaking ghost. 

And no, you’re never going to visit any of those ghost-whisperers. Even if ghosts do exist, which, seemingly, they do, the ghost-whisperers could always scam you, of course. All they need is a good business opportunity. The problem with such stuff is that one will never know if they’re being truthful or not. So people prefer picking the negative side, thinking they’re being deceitful. 

Of course, in a lot of media, ghosts are portrayed as evil beings, which is why believing in them is frowned upon and considered to be a sign of the personality of the person, assuming they’re evil and believe in or practice black magic. You find it so funny, but also interesting. Who started all this psychology stuff anyway? Why couldn’t we have stayed sane and been the same? But then, that would be a sign of communism. Ugh, what even is this? Maybe humans are better off brainless.

Damn, I got all deep there. This might as well start another dumb controversy. But then again, I’m sure all this exists but not where I am. You think to yourself, stopping any more weird thoughts, thinking you’d better leave such thoughts to people who earn for these theories.

You go about preparing dinner, knowing that you will probably not be able to do anything but sit and wait for Sunghoon’s communications. And to wait until Jisung finally confesses that he thinks you’re insane and that you should definitely visit either a therapist or an asylum.

“Honey, I’m bored!” is the quote that marks Yunjin’s entry. “You’re bored?” You ask, used to Yunjin’s use of affectionate nicknames. “Yeah. I’m bored of all the drama. I wanna go away on a deserted island and never return.” Yunjin sighs, plopping on the couch. “Oui, I agree. You should go, and never return. Go, live your life.” 

“Ouch. But you’re right. I’ll probably go on hiatus from all my social media and visit Hawaii.”

“Hawaii is so generic. But you do you. Anyway, dinner’s served.” You say, placing a plate in front of her. “You know what? I’m going to do this. I’m going to live by myself. Unless you wanna join. But I doubt you can.”

“Yeah, I can’t. Book your flights and send me your itinerary.”

“Ugh, never mind. I can’t randomly do this!” Yunjin cries, between mouthfuls of her food. “Why not? You deserve it. You’ve been working so hard but you’ve never had a solo trip.”

“You’re right.. but I can’t. You’re too fragile to be left alone.”

“You treat me like a patient sometimes.”

“Because you are, Y/N. You don’t know how bad we hurt inside when we saw you. You were a shell of the real Y/N. Now that you’re recovering, in a way, I can’t bear to go and see something happen to you.”

“You’re being too serious. Just go away for a week. Kazuha is here, and so are my friends. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Ugh.” Yunjin gets up to place her dish in the dishwasher, as do you. “You need to relax. Believe me.” 

Yunjin stays silent, trying to think about it. “Kazuha is here, Yunjin.”

“Fine. I’ll go. But I’ll hear about anything that happens to you. Believe me. And yeah, I’ll send you my itinerary.”

“Yes!” You hug her, glad she’s getting a break, and glad that you’ll be alone when Sunghoon’s real visit will occur.

—————— 🦢

The next day, you walk into the office in a better mood, glad that you’d figured out what to do the previous night.

“Good morning, Y/N.” You hear a deep male voice, and jump to see Jisung. “Hey, Jisung. Where’s Kazuha?”

“Getting coffee for you.” He says, moving aside to let you sit down. “Ah, I see. Did Niki meet with the producer? I’d arranged a meeting for him with that artist from Karina’s company.” You ask Kazuha, who enters with your coffee. “Yeah, he left. He told me to thank you around a thousand times before he entered the meeting room.” Kazuha grins, offering Jisung a biscuit. 

“Thanks, Ms Nakamura. Um, Y/N, I need to talk to you.” Jisung winces lightly, and you immediately understand what he wants to talk to you about. 

“Sure, we can walk a bit.” You offer, finishing off your coffee. Kazuha stares after the two of you, and you shrug, not knowing what to tell her. 

“So.. I thought about it, and maybe you’re not so insane. And I want to help you. But I don’t know what to do.” Jisung says as soon as you are out of earshot of anyone. “You can’t really help me, Jisung. Just don’t say anything to anyone, and if you don’t mind, offer me some advice if I ever need it.” You tell him, and he nods slowly, walking silently. 

“Doesn’t it seem weird to you? Like, I don’t even say anything, just accept that you talk to certain people? And offer you help with them, too?” Jisung asks you thoughtfully, and you smile softly. “I guess it does, yeah.”

Jisung stays quiet, a trait of his you find nice. The two of you walk in peace, reaching back to your office just in time for Kazuha to open the door. “Oh, haha, I was about to come after you guys. Y/N, I need to leave, there’s some problem at my friend’s place. I’ll be back in an hour, tops.”

“Okay, no worries. Take your time. And if you need anything, my line’s open. You only need to call.”

“Thanks, Y/N. Um, I prepared a schedule for you, check it out. It’s on your table. You don’t have much, really.” Kazuha smiles and leaves, thanking you profusely before she exits.

“Woah, I forget you’re the CEO sometimes.” Jisung says jokingly, and you laugh. “Yeah, yeah. This CEO has to get to work, so, yeah.”

“I get it, I need to go. Bye! I have work, anyway. I only came to the building to speak to you.” Jisung shrugs, waving behind him as he leaves. You grin to yourself, preparing for your meeting with NewJeans.

“Hello, Ms. L/N!” Hanni, who is the main correspondent for the contract signing, enters, a bright smile on her face. The rest of NewJeans follows her, smiling and bowing at you. “Hello. I’m glad you are going ahead with the signing, NewJeans. How are you guys feeling? Can I get you anything to drink, or eat?”

“Nope, all of us ate our breakfast and got here.” Hyein said, and Minji nodded. “Yeah, but water would be good.” You nod and buzz someone to get five glasses of water. The glasses arrive as asked for, and the girls drink up. 

“So, let’s get this meeting started. Firstly..”

After the meeting, NewJeans take a picture with you to post once the news of the contract signing gets out. NewJeans has been an amazing group, you think, as you walk them out the building. “Thank you, NewJeans. Let’s have a great year ahead of us! See you in May.” You wave, watching as they leave.

You enter the building again, glad to be back in the business rush again. You feel the need to be productive at times, and this definitely satiated that desire. “Y/N! I’m back. How was the meeting?” Kazuha greets you in your office, looking up from her laptop. 

“Great. They’re nice people. Can’t wait to work with them.” You smile, and ask about the incident at her friend’s home. “Oh, no, it wasn’t that serious. My friend’s ill, and the person taking care of her had to go out for some urgent work. So I took over for a bit.”

“Is your friend okay?” You ask, worry filling you. “Yeah, she’s having a pneumonia attack. Not that serious, but she is supposed to be under bed rest, so I went and got her breakfast.”

“Okay, let me know if you need anything delivered to her place, I’ll get it done.” You offer, knowing that’s the most you can really do for Kazuha. “Thank you, Y/N. Anyway, you’re free until after lunch. I've arranged a meeting with NewJeans’ manager and CEO to discuss further contract details.”

“Great. Thanks, Kazuha. But I’m not looking forward to it.” The CEO of NewJeans’ company is known to be nice, but is sometimes too nice. It gets a bit creepy for you, personally, but Mr Song is generally a welcoming person.

“I know. But their manager is a nice person, so hey, that’s a plus point!” Kazuha points out, shutting her laptop and stretching her back. Kazuha enjoys ballet, and so is always stretching something or the other. But all your employees can’t help but to ask her about her posture, because it, quite frankly, is perfect. In fact, Kazuha is asked for posture classes almost every day.

“Yeah, I guess.. anyway, you can take a break. Want something to eat?” You offer, and Kazuha shakes her head. “No, I think I’ll take a walk. Also, what’s this I hear about Yunjin going on hiatus?”

“Yeah, she’s going to—“

“Yeah, some island, I know. But is she fine?” Kazuha asks, and you shrug. “She says that, but I don’t know, I just guess she’s getting tired of the influence lifestyle. To be fair, I wouldn’t blame her either. But I’m sure she’ll be fine. You should talk to her.”

Kazuha nods, zoning out, as she exits your office with a pen in hand. You smile offhandedly, jotting down some information about the NewJeans contract so you can prepare for the meeting.

“Ms Y/N?” You hear Niki’s voice from outside your door, and you yell for him to enter. “Thank you for setting up that meeting. My fans will be excited for this collaboration. Anyway, a week until my album releases and I leave. I’m honestly scared. What if my fans don’t like me?” Niki afflicts himself with unnecessary thoughts, and you sigh, settling behind your desk comfortably. 

“You have nothing to worry about. Niki, you’re such an accomplished artist. And so young at that! This album is something your fans will never forget, seeing as it’s written by you. Besides , this collaboration has never been seen before. The artist never collaborated with anyone. Ever. Don’t hurt yourself with such thoughts. We at the company will make sure no one ever forgets the name Niki.”

“Thank you, ma’am. But it’s really not easy stopping those thoughts. I guess we learn, eventually. Anyway, enough about me. I don’t wanna spend my last week all emo. What’s going on with you, ma’am?”

“See, you call me ma’am, then get all casual. And what’s an emo?” You ask him, genuinely confused. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you’re really old, aren’t you? It’s a meme, I guess, but it means emotional. Like, a depressed type of thing, but it’s used ironically or sarcastically most of the time.” Niki shakes his head, disappointed, while you scowl. “I may be old, but I’m not that old, Nishimura Riki.”

“Oh. Full name. It is my time to leave. Au revoir, mademoiselle!” Niki rushes out the door, leaving you laughing.

—————— 🦢

Just another day left until Sunghoon said he would visit, and you’re feeling a bit jittery. Yunjin is leaving today, and you’re currently at the airport to say goodbye.

“Y/N, don’t forget to call me if you need anything, okay?—“

“Flight 777 boarding. I repeat, Flight 777 boarding. Passengers need to get aboard now.”

“Yeah, yeah, Yunjin, you don’t wanna miss your flight, okay? Go away now. Bye!” You wave and walk away as Yunjin keeps saying something. She ends up rolling her eyes and turning, waving without looking at you.

Kazuha couldn’t come with you as she had to go look after her friend, who was healing, luckily. But she did video call you to say goodbye to Yunjin, who has switched off her main phone and bought a flip phone so you and Kazuha can contact her.

You get back home, exhausted. You spend the rest of the day by yourself, treating yourself to takeout and binge watching a series on the TV. You’d taken a leave of absence from the office today, which, in retrospect, seems like a good decision.

The next day, you walk into the office, incredibly jittery, anticipating the visit at any minute. You hate this feeling so much, but what could you possibly do, anyway? You sit in the office, looking at the proposed building renovations to include more practice rooms and recording studios and reducing the break rooms. You do not like the renovations any better than the jitters you’re getting, but since the board had suggested it, you don’t have a choice but to go through them. 

“Y/N!” You jump immediately, papers scattering everywhere. “I won’t tell you to chill, but relax. It’s Jisung.” You sigh in relief, as Jisung helps you sort the papers. 

“It’s not my business, I know, but did Sunghoon visit you?” He asks, and you shake your head in reply. “No. Can’t you tell? I’m so nervous. I don’t know what he even has to say. What can a dead lover say?”

“Well, in my experience, nothing, because I’ve never had a dead lover.” Jisung shrugs, sitting on the windowsill. You sigh. “Yeah, I wish I knew someone — on second thought, I don’t wish. I wouldn’t wish that on anybody.”

“Good, cause if you’d said what you’d wanted to, I’d have walked out a minute ago.” Jisung says, pretending to exhale in relief, placing a hand on his chest.

“Hey, I’m not a sadist.” You point out, narrowing your eyes at him. He raises his hands, saying, “Hey, I wouldn’t know, you know.” “Yeah, well, how would I know if you wouldn’t know?”

Jisung laughs, and you smile.

“Y/N?”

Jisung’s jaw drops, as you turn to look Park Sunghoon square in the eye. “Is this.. your boyfriend?” He asks, and your eyes go wide, looking at Jisung.

“No, of course not. If you’re jealous, you don’t really have a reason to be.” Jisung says, matter-of-factly, but you know that’s not a great reassurance for Sunghoon. “Okay. Anyway, can you get out?” 

“No. You’re being kind of selfish, don’t you think? Y/N needs support. I know you’re a Gwisin, and all that. I was there when you delivered that note. Y/N has been so nervous as of late. You’re being so rude. Think about her, too. It’s not like I’ll blabber anything to the media. What the heck would I say?”

“Sunghoon..” you say, and Sunghoon sighs. “Ugh, I don’t have the time for this. Y/N, I’m here as a Gwisin because I can’t move on for a while. Um. I don’t really know why I saved up energy for this, but I just wanna tell you that you should move on. And you should leave the room, I have something to say to this clown.” Sunghoon nods at Jisung, who scowls. You quietly leave, not having anything to say. You’ve never seen Sunghoon this way, which scares you just a bit. You did your own research on Gwisin the other day, and found that they can be harmful sometimes. As much as you don’t wanna leave Jisung unarmed, you trust Sunghoon enough to use his senses as much as possible. Besides, you do have to guard the door, so that no one (read: Kazuha) enters and freaks out and possibly sends you and Jisung to the hospital to get psychologically evaluated.

You hear nothing, which is reassuring, unless Sunghoon— never mind, you won’t think about it, you decide. You pace in front of the door for a while, until you hear the lock open slowly. 

“Y/N?” Jisung asks, and you nod. “Yeah, Jisung. Are you fine?”

“Yeah, I am. He didn’t do anything to me, relax. He just wanted to check on you, because he knew you would lie.” 

“But—“

“I don’t even know you that well? Think again. I’m friends with Niki, who’s now friends with Yunjin, who’s your roommate and is also close to Kazuha.” Jisung says, as if he explained everything with that statement. 

“Okay.. and that helps you how, exactly?”

“Well, to put it simply, we gossip about you occasionally.”

“It’s barely been a week since you know Yunjin and Kazuha.”

“What can I say? Niki and I are incredibly social.” Jisung shrugs, and you sigh. “Is that all he told you?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Jisung says, looking at you. “He left just like that?” You ask, and Jisung shrugs. “Yeah. Why?”

“Oh, I’m expecting a note from him right about… now.” You say, and immediately a note flies in from the window. “You should really start shutting your window, Y/N.” Jisung says, massaging his nose bridge in annoyance.

You look at the note, prepared for anything at this point.

Y/N, 

I want you to be happy. Are you happy? Don’t lie, which I know you will, so don’t even bother answering. You need to move on. I don’t wanna be selfish, but I don’t want you to. But you need to. It’s for your own good. I.. I think Jisung is nice. He’s nice to you. I don’t like him, but he’s good for you. As a friend, or whatever. But you can’t stay hung up on me. I know you have important work in May. And you need to get a hang of yourself. You’re a mess, quite frankly.

I’m sorry for disrupting your life the way I did. Thing is, as a Gwisin, I need to accomplish what I want to until I can move on from this world. This world is the underworld, in simple terms, and where all Gwisin exist, whether good or bad. I’m the good kind, I promise. 

I’m so sorry. I really am. But please, please move on. It may seem difficult now, but enjoy life. Fall in love again. 

Yours,

Sunghoon.

You look up from the note, trying to not cry and sigh at the same time. “Y/N? Are you fine?” Jisung asks you, concerned at the obvious tears in your eyes.

“I’m. Fine. I swear.” You tell him, blinking back tears rapidly. “Yeah, you are. Sure!” Jisung says, letting you deny your tears and watching your face, making sure you don’t harm yourself in any way. 

“I really am.” You insist, aggressively wiping your tears away. “Yeah.” Jisung nods slowly, and you give in to your tears. “I can’t believe he expects me to move on so easily. First my dad falls ill, then I lose Sunghoon. Why does life wanna kick my ass at any given opportunity? I don’t get it. I do want to fall in love. But it’s not easy. I just want to move on from this too. I wanna start a new life. But I can’t. Because I’m tied to all of this. Why’d Sunghoon have to die? If he had to, why couldn’t I have gone with him?” You cry, and Jisung walks to be next to you.

“Y/N, Sunghoon is going to expect you to move on. He knows it’s not easy. I’m sure he does. And I’m also sure life doesn’t wanna kick your ass. This is all just a test. Life isn’t easy for anyone. What happens, happens for a reason, okay? Once that gets through your head, life is much more tolerable. You didn’t die for a reason. You’re so strong. You help out whoever you can, whenever you can. You’re nice to everyone. You work hard. You try to lessen the burden on other people. You took over your dad’s business without a single second’s hesitation. That takes a lot of courage. You’re strong. You just need to understand that. You have the ability to do anything, Y/N. Do you know how good that feels? You don’t. If you did, you wouldn’t be crying. You’d be figuring out if you can move on right now. And if not right now, you’d be estimating when you would. Y/N, you might not wanna hear this, but get a grip.” Jisung says, and you breathe in, jaw agape.

“Sorry. Did I overstep? Please tell me if I did, I don’t wanna cross any—“ you interrupt Jisung’s blind blabbering with a bear hug, causing him to choke on air. 

“Thank you.” You tell Jisung. Jisung pats your back a little awkwardly, letting you hold him.

—————— 🦢

The next day, you meet with Kazuha at the office, and ask her if she wants to stay overnight at your place.

“I would, Y/N, but I promised my friend I’d stay over at her place. She’s finally recovered, by the way!” Kazuha exclaims, and you smile. “Of course, you should go to her place. I’m so glad she recovered. Listen, send me her address, I’ll send her a gift. And tell me what she’s allergic to.” You say, and Kazuha sighs. “You are so extravagant sometimes.” 

“You guys love me for it.”

“Oh well. Can’t argue with facts, can we?” You and Kazuha laugh and continue with work.

You and Jisung haven’t spoken about anything except work related matters, and, to be honest, you are kind of offended. It’s not everyday you get to see your boss, or whatever you are to Jisung, getting haunted by her dead lover’s ghost. And, deep down, you thought that the two of you were friends. Thought, in past tense. 

I don’t think friends let their friends forget that they’re there for them after a haunting. You think, rolling your eyes as you swivel around in your chair.

“Y/N, Jisung’s here to see you.” Kazuha says, raising an eyebrow at you, asking the security guard to let him in. 

“What are you raising your eyebrow at?” You ask, and Kazuha shrugs, raising her other eyebrow too. “Nothing, just.. he’s been visiting you a lot lately..”

“What are you getting at?” You ask, a slight cleft forming in your forehead. “Nothing, it’s just.. are you dating him? Or do you like each other? Not judging. Not judging, for sure. Just wanna know.” Kazuha assures you, and you look her dead in the eye. 

“No.”

“Hey, Y/N. Um, is this a bad time?” Jisung enters and pauses, seeing the glare on your face. “No, this is the perfect time. I’m leaving.” Kazuha says, walking out without a single word, winking at you as she leaves. 

“So, Jisung. Why’ve you been radio silent?”

“Uh? I’m sorry? It’s been a day.” Jisung grins offhandedly, and you frown. “I thought you were nice.” You say, and wince immediately. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Um, I was busy with something, so I couldn’t call. But you could have called. I would’ve spoken to you for at least a minute.” Jisung says, and you sigh. You’ve gotten attached, you fool. Just because someone wants to be friends doesn’t mean you go and do this.

“Ha ha. Yeah. I could’ve. Sorry. My bad. Anyway. How are you?” You ask awkwardly, and Jisung shrugs. “Good, I guess. You?”

The wind whooshes aggressively and you shudder. “What’s up with the wind, all of a sudden?” Jisung asks, shutting the windows.

“I think it’s Sunghoon.” You say, shivering lightly. 

“You guessed right.” Sunghoon appears, and Jisung sighs. “Y/N, I’m really hopeless at the deep speech thing, so I’m gonna talk to Jisung. If you don’t tell her, I will.”

“Tell her what?” Jisung asks, and you look at the two carefully, trying to look for any signs of a secret. Obviously, there is one, but you do want to try out your observation skills. “What we discussed yesterday.”

“Oh. No. You won’t tell her, that’ll make it weird. Don’t do it. It won’t benefit either of us.”

“But it will benefit me!” You exclaim, and the two ignore you. “I might.”

“You’re selfish.”

“You can’t say that for everything, Park Jisung. Y/N—“

“Shut up!” Jisung yells, covering your ears, or trying to. “What is it?” Annoyed, you prise Jisung’s hands away from your ears, and glare at him. 

“Oh, Jisung has a crush on you.” Sunghoon says, and Jisung goes red.

“Sunghoon, are you playing matchmaker with your ex-girlfriend who’s only your ex because she’s alive and you’re not?” You ask, pissed off.

“Jeez, just admit it, you’re growing a crush on him too.” Sunghoon says, annoyed too.  “Am not!” “Are too!”

“You two really were meant for each other.” Jisung says, still bright red. “We get it.” You and Sunghoon chorus, and stare at each other, angry.

“Oh, my God. Y/N, you are growing a crush on Jisung.” Sunghoon says, and you roll your eyes. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“I’m right, I know. Anyway, I guess it’s time to explain why I’m being so unconventional. Jisung knows already, and he’s a huge part of the reason. 

“Apparently, my last dying wish was for you to be happy, and I guess it’s the truth. Well, the point of it is for you to fall in love. And until you do, I’m going to be a Gwisin. And my powers are fading away, so I think you do like him, just a little bit. But that little bit helps me move on. I don’t want your feelings to be fake, because that won’t work. But my powers really are going away. I’m glad, Y/N. Jisung really likes you. I can tell. I feel like the new Cupid. But anyway, if you like him, good for you. I’m happy as long as you are.”

You watch as the shimmery Sunghoon becomes a bit more transparent, and suddenly understand a lot about him as a Gwisin. “Shit. Sunghoon. Don’t go. Just stay, but don’t be a Gwisin.”

“I am always with you. You just won’t get to be able to confirm it any more. Don’t worry, I can be in touch until you start falling in love. And you can’t deny your feelings, nor can you fake them. But I just can’t appear anymore.”

Jisung watches as you attempt to hug the faded Sunghoon, and watches you break down, and helps you up.

—————— 🦢       A YEAR LATER, JUNE 1.

“Ms L/N!” NewJeans greets you, and you smile. “Congratulations. I hear your relationship press release went well?” Minji congratulates you, and you smile brightly. “Yeah, it did. I’m so happy. And I’m happy you guys are so successful. And the collaboration with Niki went so well.” You compliment them, and they smile.

“Speak of the devil.” Niki enters the room, and shakes your hand. “Really? My choreographer?”

“I’m sorry, okay? He’s so nice. And sweet. And—“

“Please, don’t. He’s my choreographer.” 

“I—“

“Goodbye.” NewJeans and Niki leave, leaving you confused. 

“Hey, Y/N.” Jisung smiles as he enters, hugging you. “The press release went so well.” He says, and you laugh. “As it should have. Everything’s getting better. My father is recovering well, Mum got a break when I took over Dad’s healthcare, Yunjin quit the full time influencer gig and works part time now, Kazuha is chairman, and I’m still CEO with a boyfriend and a lot of friends. A year ago, I was a mess.”

“Well, you were a mess, yeah. Cheers to the mess-free Y/N of 20XX!” Jisung brings out a water bottle, and you reach under your desk to take yours.

“Cheers!”

—————— 🦢

After work, you go back to your home, which you bought for yourself, so Yunjin could leave alone. 

You sit in your study, and bring out a blank letter and start writing.

From, Y/N.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I’m grateful. Thanks to you, I’m happy. Or happier. I’m able to get up and not think of you, some days. When I do, I don’t cry anymore. I know you want me to be happy, so I smile and think of us. I think I’ll always love you. I hope you will too, even if you’re still dead and I won’t ever get a message from you. But I love Jisung, too. And I’m glad you can finally rest in peace. I’m happy if you are happy, too. I just wish we wouldn’t have to end the way we did sometimes, but I guess it can’t be helped. Some character development, right?!

I write these letters so that I can get my feelings out and direct them somewhere. But I think I’m going to stop soon. My relationship press release went incredibly well. Of course, there were the odd questions here and there about you, but they really can’t be helped. 

I miss you. But I miss you as a best friend, for sure. I don’t miss you as a lover anymore. And frankly? I don’t ever want to, again. I love you, but I am letting go.

We didn’t deserve what happened to us. We really didn’t. And I wish it never happened. But I am moving on. I need to. So, Park Sunghoon, goodbye.

I love you.

Then, now, and always.

To: Park Sunghoon.

P.S. I Hope You’re Happy.

P.S.S. I used to listen to this song called In My Dreams. Back when I was way too hung up on you. And I love that song. If you ever get to listen to music whenever you are, please listen to it. I want that song tattooed. I might do it soon. Love you a lot.

—————— FIN.

[oreichalkos]

until i make this fancy lmao

tldr king dardanos of atlantis has been around 10,000 years since the fall of his kingdom and has been dealing with the vengeful mother goddess also using his body as a meatpuppet because she is angry at humans for destroying the planet and her answer is yeet all of them ...

in the modern era he is known as dardanos eleazar, the young and charismatic CEO of paradius, a massive company based in greece- they're focused mainly on biomedical advancements (although they do have branches that do other things). aside from being possessed, he's a genius billionaire philanthropist and incredibly talented duelist- known in public for his chaos archetype deck (black luster/chaos emperor type), although under the mother goddess' command he is also the oracle and he's been devouring souls in her name.

oh, and also he can turn into a giant dragon, that's a thing.

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒

name: dardanos other names: dardanos eleazar. leviathan. mother goddess.

titles: king of atlantis, heir of king atlas. heir of poseidon. legendary dragon leviathan.

age: thirty two (+10,000) gender: male* (the mother goddess is female but she is also a separate entity possessing his body) species: deity date of birth: c. 8000 bce

education: tutored

residence: a gorgeous villa in greece (currently). atlantis (formerly).

occupation: ceo of paradius (currently). king of atlantis (formerly). duelist (occasionally)

parents: king ironhart of atlantis (father) . queen isri of atlantis (mother, deceased). siblings: none

significant other: iorei (wife, deceased) children: chrysanthe ‘chris’ (daughter)

notable bonds: legendary knights timaeus, critias, and hermos (tutors and rivals). the swordsmen rafael, varon, and amelda (adoptive sons, arguably replacements for the legendary knights in many ways) . the nameless pharaoh, seto kaiba, katsuya jonouchi (the chosen grand souls). yugi mutou (vessel of the nameless pharaoh and thus involved)

duel spirit: shockingly, he doesn't have one.

𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘

height: 6'4 weight: ??

build: athletic , dardanos is not only a king, but a warrior who once trained with the legendary knights scars: reference

fashion: for some reason, if he isn’t wearing the king’s regalia, dardanos has a habit of … pastel suits which is… a questionable choice.

other notable traits: dardanos is regal, regardless of whether he’s in the ritual robes or in that admittedly ridiculous lavender suit. while naturally his eyes are golden, under the influence of the mother goddess, he has heterochromia, the right eye being teal. dardanos has many scars from the ages, the most notable ones being from the great war 10,000 years ago from injuries sustained from his own father’s axe

physiological condition: dardanos has no known physical health issues

𝐏𝐒𝐘𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘

tba

𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒

immortality: dardanos has been like 32 years old for ten thousand years. oof. he doesn’t age and if a combo attack by the three egyptian gods doesn’t kill him, i have no idea what will — although it seems that once the mother goddess was sustaining at least a good portion of his life, he does survive without it before consciously deciding to leave with his family to the spirit world. he also seems to literally be unable to die as in episode 178 he tells yugi and kaiba that in the battle of atlantis, his father challenged him and killed him, so uhhh, whatever deaths he suffers are naturally very temporary.

shapeshifting: although, this could be closer to illusions, since he is shown to have taken the form of gozaburo kaiba to orchestrate the tragedy in amelda’s life.

weather manipulation: dardanos in flashbacks flat out conjures lightning, he creates storms powerful enough to sink ships abd the method that would have destroyed the world was a huge global tidal wave. his temple is also surrounded by storms and in the middle of the ocean so that’s a thing.

telepathy: dardanos is shown to be able to communicate with others via telepathy, cause visions and command others through the mind, so that’s sorta terrifying yikes.

duel spirit manifestation: he’s capable of manifesting duel monster spirits much like something found in a shadow game, they cause real damage to things.

magic mastery: in general, his abilities are said to be able to rival the millennium items themselves. which means he’s really, really strong in that department. it is heavily implied that his magic can do things like change people’s forms, as he is noted to have transformed the legendary knights into dragons.

deity form: dardanos is also a legendary dragon (leviathan) on his own.

dueling skill: ok well canonically dardanos held his own in a battle against yami yuugi and seto kaiba. we all know what that means. seto kaiba is the second best duelist in the world and seto kaiba has his ass handed to him by some vengeful jerk who has lived for a good ten thousand years.

duelist spirit: "even a normal person like me can feel it" — honda hiroto, ep 177. dardanos, like other powerful duelists, radiates an incredible energy of determination, but the duelist’s spirit is sorta hard to explain as anything but sheer willpower and his is ridiculously extreme as he’ll stop at nothing to achieve his goals

soul manipulation: the signature ability given to him by the mother goddess, there’s no proof that he was able to manipulate souls prior to his own corruption, but he is responsible for a lot of the oreichalkos mess … most of it, since his swordsmen didn’t uhhh really do nearly as much damage … not that they didn’t do damage they did but dardanos is the worst.

mother goddess form: the leviathan body created from his own soul sacrificed in exchange for the souls of the three legendary duelists. this in itself implies his own soul is incredibly powerful, it also turns him into the mother goddess, a giant serpent capable of twisting her body around the city of atlantis at least three times and have length to spare. note, atlantis is an entire city and here is a reference of the mother goddess compared to the egyptian gods so uhhh.

[ichinoue]

I came across a very old tweet from an anti-IH about how you deleted a post about "even if my OTP never becomes canon, I will still ship it" bc you supposedly implied that Kubo had killed our "Origo" ship and that when you realized what you wrote you, that's when you deleted it. Can you please clarify this?

continued: Anon from the old anti-IH tweet here, just wanted to add the tweet was from 2013, 3 years before the manga ended if I'm correct, so I'm not surprised they were still full of themselves denying IH (wonder what it must've been like for them to experience the rest of Bleach's run XD) but since I can't remember the context, I would still like to know your version regarding that post they had claimed you deleted.

Oh my god...lmao I absolutely remember that post. It didn't mention IH or any specific ship at all, it just said "my otp" and something about how I would ship it forever even if it never became canon etc. and I attached a stupid gif of some lady doing a spin at the bottom (2012 era tumblr was so cringe lol). Anyway, somehow it went viral on here and spread to a bunch of different fandoms like superwholock and marvel and whatever else, and I think it got over like 50,000 notes??

This was literally ten years ago but I still remember me and my friends on here would joke about how many notes it was gaining, and how cringe it was. But I was tired of receiving notifications for it nonstop so I deleted it, maybe like 3 months later?

So, I mean, number one, it's kind of weird and hilarious that some anti was stalking my blog hard enough to even know about that dumb post in the first place lmao. Number two...since this anti knew I deleted it, they had to have seen my post talking about why I was deleting it. Like how it was starting to reach some weird like Harry/Snape shipper blogs and I was like "fuck this, kill it with fire! DELETE!"

But somehow they took it as me doubting IH?? lmao like...wouldn't I have deleted all of my posts and my entire blog if that were the case? Instead of just one single post that didn't even mention IH? As I continued to post about my confidence in IH being endgame...? The leap in logic is just...idk!!! These people were weirdly obsessive about the smallest shit, I'm not kidding. Bleach fandom lore is nuts.

anyway, what a wild time. But hey, if you ever find the tweet again, please send it to me so I can see who was stalking me that hard lmao.

[childotkw]

Rumour has it you have got a Potc plot bunny in the works?

Oh dear, is it going to breach discord containment? 😂

But yeah I do! And it’s been haunting my mind every day lmao - I’m so quietly obsessed with the idea and getting my grubby hands all over the characters.

Context for non-discord people:

I wanna write a female!Jack story.

——————— (Taken from discord)

Jacqueline Teague was born in the middle of a typhoon aboard the Misty Lady, and she knew the rocking of a ship in the wild sea long before the steady feel of land under her feet - and it showed.

(Miles and miles away, deep in the swamps of Cuba, surrounded by trinkets and humid air and the bitter tang of memories, a bound goddess tilted her head back and hummed, thoughtful and amused and satiated.)

Little Jack was as wild as the waves and free as a bird, and even from a young age Edward looked at his daughter and knew she was going to shake the world.

And she did. Oh, she did.

But the world was a cruel place and it left its mark on Jack just as deeply as she did it.

——————

Other elements include:

Jack not acknowledging that she’s the daughter of Edward fucking Teague for the longest time, so her lineage is only really known by the older generation of pirates, and when it comes out that she basically the equivalent of pirate royalty Will and Elizabeth and Barbossa and the rest are blown away

We'll explore Jack’s relationship with Tia Dalma, how long they've known each other, and heavily imply that Jack is 'god-touched' because Calypso likes her

So much symbolism with Jack's hair. All the symbolism.

Jack and the Pearl and the connection there

And exploring these core relationships and how they shaped Jack:

Salazar and the whole significance of him giving Jack her new name, and so feeling some kind of inherent claim on Jack because there is power in that - and there being an undeniable connection between them that was forged on the day she tricked and killed him

Barbossa and the betrayal and all the bitterness between them, and him slowly realising that while the Pearl was still the fastest, deadliest vessel on the water; she would always be faster, deadlier with Jack’s hands on her wheel. Seeing Jack again after ten years is the closest he comes to feeling anything since they parted - since he parted them, turning on his young, bright, brilliant captain. And Barbossa hating that he itches every time she calls him 'Barbossa' instead of 'Hector'

Beckett and his fucked up possessiveness over Jack, because he met her when she was young and brilliant and just making a name for herself and she was so wild, so different from any woman he'd ever met, and the impression stuck. In another world, they might have even loved each other, but he wanted the one thing Jack refused to surrender - her freedom

Davy Jones knowing the second they pull this sodden, grief and rage-filled girl from the water that she’s marked, and he can practically taste Calypso’s hands on her sun-tanned skin; and while a part of him snarls at it another part of him wants to take something else from his old lover, even if it’s a Favoured slip of a girl. He makes the deal thinking he’ll get the best damn helmsman on the sea at the end of it - even though it feels like the very winds are laughing at him for thinking he might be the one to chain another wilful woman from her nature

Elizabeth still being in love with the idea of Jack, because here is a woman that spits in the face of everything society tries to tell them to be - and a part of her wants with a soul-deep ache

And Will also being somewhat entranced by Jack, just like he is in canon, because there's something undeniably other about her and as someone who longs for adventure, he can't help but want to press closer.

I've got so many fucking ideas for this - the discord chat is full of little snippets and ramblings 🤣🤣