#and I feel like the dad got a lot of unwarranted hate

[yourqueenb]

Saw some fellow RoD haters in the tags, and my question is where have y’all been all this time? Didn’t know you existed on here, but it’s nice to see you 🫡

[mysticstarlightduck]

OC Questionnaire

Thank you so much for the tag, @willtheweaver!!! (here)

MY QUESTIONS WERE:

Is there anything that would make you lose trust in others?

Do you think anyone could love you?

If you could relive one day, which one would it be?

YOUR QUESTIONS ARE:

Where is your favorite place in the world?

What food do you hate the most?

Do you like watching sunsets or sunrises?

The characters answering will be Corah and Scarlet from Of Starlight and Beasts, Renn from my still-unnamed fairytale fantasy WIP, and Sam Delaways from Enchanted Illusions!

1. Is there anything that would make you lose trust in others?

Corah - Betrayal, abandonment and dishonesty are pretty far up on the list, along with unwarranted cruelty, people who like to make others feel uncomfortable, or those with a just generally jerkass attitude.

Scarlet - Finding out that person works for the King, or is too buddy-buddy with the constabulary in the city usually sets off all of my alarms all at once. I also cannot stand cowards, liars and people who cannot be trusted to hide a secret.

Renn - Hmm. I guess that being lied to or used by someone tends to be what breaks the deal, but I also lose trust in people who are too indecisive, or whom I know would choose the set laws and rules over the wellbeing of individuals.

Sam - Trust is important, alright, but it ain't more important than staying safe. I tend to give people a lot of chances before fully losing all trust in 'em. I think what would make me lose trust really fast is finding out someone is sadistic or cruel to innocent people, or discovering someone I trusted had intentionally hid something important from me.

2. Do you think anyone could love you?

Corah - ... I sure hope so? Haha. Asking the hard hitting questions, are we now? But on a serious note, I think that almost anyone who is good - or willing to become good through effort - deserves love. I strive to be a good person and help others whenever I can - I just hope this is enough...

Scarlet - Yes, absolutely! I am a delight to be around. I think. I have lots of friends, and my sister and I have a really close bond. The love for one's family is one of the most special ties in the world, and I wouldn't ask for anything more.

Renn - I think so, if they ever get to know me beyond what the rumors and scare stories of the villagers will have you believe. Most don't. I don't really care - but some days I just wish more people gave me a chance.

Sam - Yep. I have two little brothers who say that I'm their hero! While in my opinion that is very flattering on its own, I'm very thankful to have them both in my life, despite most things not going as planned. Don't know what I would do without 'em.

3. If you could relive one day, which one would it be?

Corah - The day I met Arammys. I know its two days before my whole life was thrown upside down, but that day was perfect. Not only was it the day I met my closest friend, and current boyfriend, but everything was so perfectly normal - almost like everything was going to go exactly as I expected. Turns out they didn't, but that's not the point.

Scarlet - The day I taught Nimwen how to shoot the bow and arrow, and I stole a cherry cake from a shop in town that lasted us two whole days. That was a pretty great day given our standards. I'd love to relive it.

Renn - Hmm. The days before my Dad went on the voyage that got him killed. Before I had to figure out how to survive alone away from our land and villagers with torches and pitchforks became the biggest threat to my way of life. We were happy, and I was just a little kid having the time of my life with a parent cared about me. That was great! Or used to be.

Sam - I dunno. Days are all pretty similar in Strystead - an endless grind of work, survival and learning to stay out of trouble. My happiest moments are the ones where I get to just spend free time with my little brothers without having to work myself to the bone in the factories. Those days are rare though, and will likely keep getting rarer - because the Mayor sure ain't about to pay working folk a proper salary, but that's a whole other issue.

Tagging: @illarian-rambling, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @littleladymab, @little-peril-stories, @oh-no-another-idea, @rickie-the-storyteller, @lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @eccaiia, @late-to-the-fandom, @diabolical-blue, @writernopal, @mk-writes-stuff, @tabswrites, @winterandwords, @frostedlemonwriter, @clairelsonao3, @autumnalwalker and OPEN TAG

[i-am-minty-fresh]

Alright here’s my unwarranted opinion on post-timeskip designs.

(Not including the fact that they just made everyone’s skin tones lighter for no reason cause that’s complete bullshit but we’re gonna talk about their other design features).

Luffy: I love it. Don’t get me wrong I love his stupid vest + flip-flop combo in pre-timeskip but his fluffy shirt and sash are just so him without taking away all his silliness (also adding the yellow sash ties way better to the ASL theme because the yellow in the hat is more tied to Roger/Shanks while the sash is purely related to him and his brothers with is great!)

-8/10-

Zoro: no notes. I love how Oda took one his eyes and refused to explain. I love what that means for Zoro’s character. He doesn’t think about his injuries in that way, he just moves forward. Other than that tho, the boots? The coat? The sash? (Every gets a sash now-a-days) I love that he kept his haramaki because it looks so comfy!

-10/10-

Nami: ….I feel like they could have done a bit more…Don’t get me wrong I love the long hair but her outfits just kinda became bikini top + jeans which not only look uncomfortable but isn’t half as stylish as Oda thinks it is.

-6/10-

Usopp: My guy leveled up. Abs, pants, no-shirt, little facial hair, Usopp’s a fucking man now guys and I’ve got respect for him. Also love his pop greens I just wish he also used other chemical combinations like he did pre-timeskip.

-9/10-

Sanji: they’d tried to make him a big strong man like Zoro, but I don’t think that was ever the appeal of him. He’s meant to be lean so buffing him up was just kinda stupid. Got rid of his pants chain and all his silly undershirt colors.

-4/10-

Chopper: Controversial opinion! I don’t mind his post-timeskip design. He looks cute! I don’t like that they replaced the hat that his dad gave him (I feel like we never talk about that! He has a different hat now! How do you get a new ‘dead dad’ hat?!?) Now he’s got a little stripped shirt, and his heavy point looks a lot better. I do not like how they lean on Kung-fo point so heavily when he has so many other forms for fighting (horn point is my favorite).

-8/10-

Robin: What. Why did they- HER HAT?!? HER BANGS?!?? What the fuck happened in the revolutionary army to do this to my favorite women?!? Give her back her hat, give her back her bangs or I swear to god.

-2/10- (I like her long skirt)

Franky: Also controversial opinion!(?) I don’t hate his bigger body. I wished we got more of his pre-timeksip form because I love his greasy dad look but post-timeskip does a lot for giving Franky a 2 year long power-up in a way that he would. UPGRADES PEOPLE, UPGRADES!

-9/10-

Brook: I love it. His been living in star-dome being flamboyant as all hell and so of course he comes back with a diva-boa, some $10 star glasses, a plastic crown, and strange old man pants. I love formal peepaw but I also love weird party peepaw. I also think the guitar was a good way to make him seem big and aggressive while the violin has the silent, deadly elegance.

-10/10-

All and all I think a lot of us just missed the pre-timeskip style which is fair! I love how pretty the animation gets in Wano but there was bit of an awkward faze where the studio was still trying to figure out how silly vs how pretty they wanted everything to look.

[roberrtphilip]

ok im sorry in advance for how unwarranted and cringe this might come off as, and maybe it's just me, but ed forgiving hohenheim and finally accepting him at the end as his dad is something so personal to me.

as a kid I related way too hard to characters like ed and maka hating their dads and projected my hatred of my own dad for leaving and being a POS in general through them, it was therapeutic at the time since I was an angry edgy teen and could relate to these characters.

but now I'm older and seeing the opposite is way more like a (kinda silly) coping mechanism for me. like don't get me wrong I still relate to these characters for hating their dads since I never got that closure with my own dad myself, which is why forgiveness is like really important to me, if that makes sense.

sorry about ranting about this, I just felt like you'd appreciate the insight since you are The Hohenheim Guy.

ah, I feel you! I have a rough relationship with my mom, and seeing positive dynamics between fictional moms and their kids is so therapeutic for me. especially if they have a falling out, but later reconcile. it's interesting how my views on it have changed over the years, cause for a long time I'd ignore mom characters in media because I didn't want to think about my own. now I find myself clinging to them a lot.

anyway, don't apologize, I love when people ramble to me!! and I love that I'm The Hohenheim Guy :')

[bookmarkascending]

28 - The Devil in Winter

Author: Lisa Kleypas

Pages: 396

POV: 3rd

Themes: Marriage of convenience, odd couple, historical, rakes, wallflowers

Start/Finish: ?3.26.22/?3.29.22

Rate: 3.25/4

Thoughts:

I had been hearing so much about Lisa Kleypas and this novel specifically so I was really excited to start it

I wonder what the correlation is, if there is any, between the POV that the book is written in and whether it's HR/when it's written

+I really liked their dynamic at the beginning of the book and this seems to be a pattern I've noticed with some of the historical books I've picked up. There's obvious (serious) conflict due to the gravity of the heroine's situation and how different they are as people, but they're not antagonizing in a way that feels kind of unwarranted (which seems common among CR enemies to lovers books). It honestly doesn't feel accurate to call their initial dynamic EtoL which is funny because it feels like the CRs which are EtoL should not be, because their conflict is just low-stakes miscommunication a lot of the time, whereas the HRs seem like sensible places for true enmity starting out between the two leads, and they're not. lol i'll never stop marveling over this i think

I will say that one thing I'm always a little dubious of is weak-constitutioned characters. I go back and forth between thinking that people in the times these novels are set in were probably a lot hardier than we are now and then rolling my eyes at characters who get caught in heavy rain and end up on their near-death bed. I did roll my eyes at all the early carriage scenes where they're trying to elope and the rain and riding really takes a toll on the heroine. But it is cold over and the riding was probably rough and she's sickly(?) so it's probably reasonable. Although having him dote on her because she got cold and wet and then have her try to say "I don't need you" a little later on is kinda ironic

?-I wasn't crazy about the way some of the kiss scenes were written. Some of them just seemed to come out of nowhere, even when taking into account that it might have been common for women to just get taken advantage of, and then sometimes the descriptions just weren't all that appealing. Like "eating at" someone's mouth makes me think of like zombies feeding on a human or a stray cat picking at some trash :( Also "male silk"

?-I also was surprised at her innocence. Like her displeasure for cursing despite having spent her childhood with a dad who runs a kinda seedy business. And it also irked me that it turned into a little running bit for them to do throughout. It's not as bad as having a catchphrase or something, but having her protest at his coarse language become this little cutesy thing they do was a bit of an ick ngl

?-HOWEVER, I hate when men use the word bitch so when he did, I was so upset for her. Also the fact that he did in fact kidnap someone...

--Tbh it was hard for me to get around that as well as the casual anti-romani racism. I get that it might be common but it still isn't pleasant to read. And given the interaction that guy has with her friend, was so strange. I'm not sure what the intent was because I feel like the fact that Daisy is a friend of the heroine is supposed to make us want to side with her, but the way that she looks at/describes Rohan was impossible to get behind. He's dark as raw honey (which has a lot of variation so it's hard to tell if he's actually dark), then he smells like horses (which isn't inherently racist bc obvi he works in stables sometimes but it feels weird in combo with other things), and calling his teeth animal-white and giving him animal abilities (seeing in the dark like a cat) is so crazy. And the fact that they even kissed at all doesn't really make sense to me. I would think part of his work ethic and serious nature is due to his awareness of how he's perceived so for him to just kind of ambush this girl seems really ooc. I'm hoping he maybe gets some moments of better treatment in the book featuring him if there is one.

+I am a sucker for watching the way characters address one another change throughout the book. Having him go from his formal title to Sebastian after they consummate their relationship probably is not a big deal but I love those kinds of things

+I think him taking over the club was pretty easy to see coming but it was a nice part of the plot still. I was interested in all the inner workings of running the club and seeing where he'd raise hell

It was also pretty clear that Bullard was going to be the illegitimate son but I liked the way it was done as well. The fact that he kind of gets eaten away by disease was kind of jarring. I think what was most frustrating was the way Evie hid details about him tormenting her. But that kind of "i didn't want to worry you so i didn't tell you" miscommunication things are always killer

+one thing i love about HR in general though is the language. Especially with the one set in england but showcase other dialects alongside the queen's english the main leads usually are speaking. it's so fun and interesting to read

?+I was worried about what the conflict would be that would drive them apart before they're ultimately committed to one another at the end and I was so sure that the cheating with prostitutes accusation would be it, but I'm glad that instead what took center stage was him getting shot lol

I think it was a nice read overall

[cacoetheswriting]

fluff alphabet - spencer reid

A = Attractive (what do they find attractive about the other?)

It would be safe to say you’re strangerly attracted to his genius. Many people find it annoying, how he spits facts completely unwarranted, but not you. His vast knowledge of quite literally anything is what sparked your interest in the young doctor in the first place.

Spencer on the other hand is captivated by your smile. The kindness behind it; how truly genuine it always is. He especially likes when he is the reason that smile spreads across your face, from cheek to cheek, illuminating your perfect features.

B = Baby (do they want a family? why/why not?)

Definitely yes, and you know Spencer would make a great dad. He has a way with kids and it comes to him so naturally. Frankly you can’t wait for the day you get to tell him you’re expecting.

C = Cuddle (how do they cuddle?)

One arm wrapped securely around you, pulling you in as close to him as possible. Your head resting on his shoulder landing just below his chin. He smells your hair taking in the scent of your shampoo before placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. 

D = Dates (what are dates with them like?)

He likes to take you out to the movies where you share popcorn and a large soda. A lot of coffee dates where he enlightens you on books he read or reread and you fill him in on the latest pop culture gossip. Nothing too adventurous but never boring.

E = Everything (“you are my ____” (e.g my life, my world…))

“You’re my home.” Spencer whispered, his hands cupping your face. You blinked a couple of times registering what he just said but before you got a chance to respond he continued. “When I’m with you, I feel so comfortable and at peace. I can truly be myself around you, no judgement or scrutiny.” He took a soft breath. “When I’m with you I feel at home and that doesn't make much sense to me but you’ve told me before that not everything has to make sense. Especially when it comes to love.”

F = Feelings (when did they know they were falling in love?)

One evening at a bar with your friends you repeated a fact to the group that Spencer had told you earlier in the week. It caught him off guard because no-one really listens to the rambles that come out of his mouth. Yet here you were, the biggest smile on your face as you reiterated: “chewing gum boosts concentration.”. You glanced at the young doctor from across the table. His eyes lit up as they locked with yours. That’s when he knew. 

G = Gentle (are they gentle? If so, how?)

Spencer is one of the gentlest souls you have ever met. He has an incredibly pure and kind heart. He always puts you first and would never dare to do anything that could hurt you. Your happiness is his priority and even though he’s not the most physical person he always does everything in his power to make you see how loved you are. 

H = Hand/Hold (how do they like to hold? how do they like to hold hands?)

For many reasons he isn't the biggest fan of public displays of affection. But when he does hold your hand, he traces down your fingers gently with his own before intertwining them. He’d then lift your hand to his lips and place a soft kiss on your knuckle.

I = Impression (first impression/s)

At first Spencer found you quite hard to read. He’s usually not good at social cues or interactions therefore it took him longer than the rest of the team to really get to know you. 

You on the other hand were instantly mesmerised by the young doctor. The wealth of knowledge he possessed was captivating and in a way inspiring.

J = Joker (are they into pulling pranks?)

Definitely; Spencer loves a good practical joke. He also has quite a good sense of humour. Not everyone always understands his jokes but they never fail to make you giggle.

K = Kisses (how do they kiss?)

When Spencer kisses you he does so with all his might. Unlike his usual gentle demeanour, when he kisses you it’s always with immense passion. He cups your face with his hands and pulls you in as close as humanly possible. 

L = Love (who says I love you first?)

You do - however completely by accident. “Did you know nutmeg can be fatally poisonous?” Spencer asked as the barista handed you a brown paper bag with a pumpkin dessert bar inside. “A little dash of nutmeg in a pumpkin pie or on your eggnog gives it extra flavour Spencer.” You noted flashing him a smile. “Too much nutmeg, however, can be toxic. Two to three teaspoons of raw nutmeg can induce hallucinations, convulsions, pain, nausea, and paranoia that can last for several days.” He stated. You couldn't help but laugh. “I love you Spencer but I’m not going to die because of a sweet indulgence.” It took you a second to register what you just said. Your free hand travelled to your mouth covering it with a soft gasp. “Shit Spencer, I didn-” “You love me?” He interrupted. All you could do was nod in response. 

M = Memory (their favourite moment together)

After a particularly hard case Spencer drives you home, like he has done so many times before. He walks you to the door of your apartment and waits until you are safely inside. He places a soft kiss on your forehead and says goodnight - which is when you ask him to come inside, stay the night. Rather than going to sleep however you stay up baking what turned out to be the worst brownies either of you have ever tasted. 

N = Nickel (do they spoil? do they buy the person they love everything?)

Spencer is not an overly material person. He prefers to shower you with words of affirmation and subtle compliments. Although when he does give you a gift it is always extremely thoughtful and definitely something that means a lot to the two of you.

O = Orange (what colour reminds them of their other half?)

If he had to associate a colour with you it would be yellow. Yellow - the colour of optimism. The colour of sunshine and enthusiasm. It stimulates the left side of the brain, helping with clear thinking and quick decision making. 

P = Pet names (what pet names do they use?)

He shortened your name. It was unintentional when it first happened but you liked the way it sounded so it stuck. You on the other hand, if you’re not using his first name, usually call him ‘honey’ or ‘sugar’ which he used to hate. If you’re feeling giddy you’ll call him by the original nickname you came up before you were dating: ‘suspence’.

Q = Questions (what are the questions they’re always asking?)

“Are you okay?” - you are his priority therefore he likes to make sure nothing is ever wrong. “Do you need anything?” “How are you feeling?” 

R = Rainy Day (what do they like to do on a rainy day?)

When the weather outside is far from ideal and the two of you are not out working a case, Spencer likes to curl up on the couch with you. He’ll put on an old back and white movie as you provide the drinks.  

S = Sad (how do they cheer themselves/each other up)

If he’s feeling sad you find yourself reaching for a random book on his shelf and reading the first few chapters aloud. His head rests in your lap, eyes closed, as he listens to the sweet sound of your voice. 

If you’re feeling down, Spencer will draw you a bath. He’ll light a couple of candles and dot them around the bathroom. He’ll play relaxing music through the speaker of his phone as the two of you enjoy the warm water together. 

T = Talking (what do they love to talk about?)

The short answer, everything. You never run out of topics to discuss and the conversation flow is always pleasantly smooth. 

U = Unencumbered (what helps them relax?)

Quite simply you. No-one knows Spencer the way you do and even though the two of you haven't been together for very long you know exactly what to say or do to calm him down.

V = Vaunt (what do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

Spencer is modest which is one of the things you admire about him. The one thing he truly shows off is his knowledge of pretty much everything - even if he does it unintentionally. 

W = Wedding (when, how, where do they propose?)

“Almost fifty percent of all marriages in the United States end in divorce or separation.” Spencer said turning off the documentary you just finished watching. “Researchers estimate that forty-one percent of all first marriages end in divorce.” He continued. “Well, lets hope when we get married we’ll be in the lucky fifty-nine percent that lasts.” You teased, a small smile circling your lips.

X = Xylophone (what’s their song?)

Let’s Groove by Earth, Wind & Fire. The song was queued by Penelope at one of Rossi’s famous get togethers - before you and Spencer were dating. She swayed and twirled, soon joined by Morgan, as the rest of the group watched and laughed. You glanced at the young doctor and before he got a chance to protest you dragged him into the middle of the room to dance. 

Y = You’re the ___ to my ___ (e.g the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)

“You’re the Holmes to my Watson.” He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Why am I not Watson?” “Because you’re not that kind of doctor.” You nudged Spencer playfully. He couldn't help but laugh under his breath. “That is a terrible analogy.” “Terrible or not, it’s true.” 

Z = Zebra (if they wanted a pet, what pet would they get?)

He wouldn't want a pet for now. The job is too demanding, he’s away for long periods of time and there'd be no-one to take care of it. Perhaps in the future, when you’re married and have kids. Perhaps. 

-

[stylesluxx]

waiting – p.lahote

[warnings: poorly written angst and like one swear]

summary: in which y/n is tired of waiting for paul | requested!

word count: 2,688

masterlist

Paul moved in next door when you were eight, so you can't say that you knew him your whole life but it felt like it. You two were inseparable. If people saw Paul, they saw you. The only time you two might be separated is when you're in your respective homes, but even then Paul stayed at your house a lot.

When your parents went through their divorce, Paul was your shoulder to cry on. His parents went through a divorce and that's how he ended up in La Push. He knew the sadness you were feeling and was always there. He's the main reason you wanted to stay with your dad, so you'd still be neighbors. Your mom was only moving to Seattle but you didn't think you could be away from Paul.

While your parents were separating and settling everything, you two would have movie nights, dinner dates, walks, literally anything that would distract you from whatever was happening at home. He was always the one to initiate it and he was so thoughtful. He was your anchor.

And when he was getting into more and more arguments with his dad, you'd sneak him in so he could sleepover and clear his head. Paul was always easily angered but it just got worse as he grew up, so the arguments got more and more intense. The fights became so frequent that your dad eventually found out you were sneaking him in but he never questioned it, just told you that you didn't have to sneak him in anymore. And if it was a school night, Paul would leave early the next morning, so that he could get ready and walk back to your house since you were his ride.

It was one of those days. He left around 6:30 to go shower and eat but was back at your house at 7:30 on the dot.

"You okay? You look sick," You asked him.

His face was red but he wasn't angry, and his eyes were low as if he were tired.

"I don't feel good. I don't feel sick but I just feel weird. I saw my dad and just I don't know... felt disgusted. I don't know. Let's just go," He tried to articulate but failed.

He trudged over to your car and got in the passenger seat. You followed and got in the driver's side, starting the car but not pulling off right away. You sat for a second and looked over at him.

"Do you want to stay home? I'm sure Dad wouldn't mind," You asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"No, I'm okay," He huffed and looked out his window.

You hesitantly nodded before putting your seatbelt on and pulling off.

Once you got to the school, you both got out of the car and grabbed your bags. As you walked toward the building, you wanted to reach for him and wrap an arm around his waist like you normally did but decided against it.

You went to your lockers and then met back in homeroom, where he immediately rested his head on the desk. And within seconds he was quietly snoring, making you chuckle and shake your head.

The rest of the day went by like this until you were in algebra. The other teachers had let Paul rest but this one wasn't having it with him today. He had been pestering Paul to wake up every ten minutes and you understood why but you also just wanted him to leave your friend alone; he was clearly having a rough day.

You were working on a problem when Paul shot up from his seat next to you and started to make his way to the door. Startled, you didn't say anything and just settled with the thought that maybe he was going to grab some water. But the teacher wasn't going to let him slip away that easy. You sighed and started packing up you and Paul's things; you knew this probably wouldn't end well.

"Mister Lahote, you can't just walk out of class," His words stopped Paul, whose hand was on the doorknob.

"Who's gonna stop me?" Paul challenged and turned back to face the teacher who was looking beyond awestruck.

"Paul, relax," You spoke up and quickly walked over to him, his bag on one shoulder and your bag on the other.

"No, he's been bothering me all-"

"Okay, let's go," You cut him off and dragged him out of the classroom.

You gave the teacher an apologetic look but caught the eye of Jared Cameron. He wasn't someone you'd talk to on a regular but he also wasn't someone you avoided. You looked away, assuming he was just another nosy classmate, nothing more.

"Hey what's wrong with you? You can't just snap at teachers like that!" You scolded Paul but he just rolled his eyes as if he were being reprimanded by a parent.

"I need to go," He said and took his bag from your shoulder.

"We only have two more periods left," You tried to reason. "We can hang out in the library for the rest of algebra-"

"I need to go."

His voice was solid and unwavering so you knew there was no arguing with him.

"Alright, I'll take you. Come on."

You took the risk and reached to hold on to his wrist as you walked out of the building. He didn't protest and only pulled away once you got to the car.

"My house or yours?" You asked him once you got close to home.

"Mine."

You simply nodded and pulled into his driveway. It was weird that he didn't want to go hang out at your house but today wasn't the day to question him.

"I'll be back after school," You told him and watched as he got out the car.

He grabbed your hand and squeezed it before shutting the door behind him and walking into his house.

A small smile graced your face as you drove back to the school and carried through for the rest of the day. You thought it meant that he'd be okay and maybe he was already starting to feel better. You didn't think it meant he'd disappear for weeks.

You arrived back at his house after school, knocking on the door and ringing the doorbell feverishly but you never got a response.

"Alright well, I'll just leave your homework here then. See you tomorrow? Text me," You sighed and set the papers down.

You placed a rock on top of the papers so they wouldn't fly away and walked back to your car.

Maybe he was sleeping or maybe he went out. But his truck was there. It never crossed your mind that he was ignoring you, especially since you did nothing to him.

The next morning came and it was radio silence from Paul. It was 7:30 and he still wasn't at your house. Maybe he got into a fight with his dad and was running late. But he always texted you when he was going to be late, no matter what. If he was a minute late, you'd get a text. But today you got nothing. It was 7:40 when you texted him, saying you'd leave with or without him at 7:50.

You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt since he had a rough day yesterday but it was hard when he didn't communicate with you.

At 8:00, you stood up from the couch and turned the tv off. You walked to the door and snatched your bag from off the floor and stormed out the house, slamming the door shut behind you.

If there was anything you hated, it was your time being wasted and your kindness being taken for granted.

Your spot was still empty when you got to school but you didn't see Paul's truck. So he must've still been home. And Paul wasn't the type to come late. If he was already an hour behind, he just wasn't going.

It was weird spending a month looking for someone you were usually attached at the hip to. For a month, he wasn't in school and his truck never moved from his driveway. You tried texting and calling but the texts never delivered and you were always sent straight to voicemail. And you didn't want to ask his dad where he was simply because you didn't like him so at this point you didn't even know if he was alive.

Friday morning, Paul walked through the main doors, Jared Cameron by his side, laughing up a storm and looking smug.

You wanted to confront him, you really did, but seeing him so happy halted you where you stood. After seeing how miserable he was the last time you saw him, you didn't want to bother him. And if he had to be away from you to be happy, you'd accept it, even if you were stuck in a void.

You never really sat down and processed how Paul's absence affected you. But seeing him, everything was starting to crumble. He left and it was so abrupt and unwarranted. You questioned if it was something you did even though you knew you didn't do anything. Maybe you weren't there for him in the way he needed you to be. The way Jared supposedly was. You were angry, sad, and confused but at the same time, you were relieved. It was good to see him safe but you couldn't shake the feeling that you were unwanted.

For a month it felt like you were drifting away, here but not really. And now it felt as if you were sinking and quickly.

You pulled your hood on over your head and slammed the locker shut. You walked to homeroom, weaving in and out of people so you could get a spot in the back of the classroom.

Sitting in your usual spot was no longer an option since it seemed like Paul was avoiding you at all costs. And if he wants to play that game, you can play it ten times better.

Avoiding Paul was easy since he seemed he wasn't even worried about you. But avoiding all the eyes of your nosy classmates was a task itself.

At lunch, you couldn't even stay in the lunchroom. It was as if everyone was talking about you and Paul. You heard a few theories about why you weren't close anymore, all of which were silly. You overhead people saying that you finally confessed your feelings for him and he rejected you so now you're avoiding each other. But that one wasn't nearly as popular as the theory that Paul ditched you to go join a gang and do drugs.

It was all so tiring and eye-roll worthy, so you got up, tossed the food that you barely touched away, and walked out the lunchroom, not bothering to look back at all the eyes you knew were on you.

You started toward the lobby for the school, deciding it was time to go home. You should've figured it was going to be a bad day once you saw that Paul's truck wasn't in the driveway when you left for school.

You were halfway through the parking lot when you were stopped by someone calling your name.

"For fuck's sake," You mumbled to yourself and turned around.

It was a senior named Zander. While Paul was still your friend, he made it very clear how much he didn't like the older boy. He always just said he gives off weird vibes whenever you asked why he didn't like him. But now that you're standing in front of him, you completely understood what Paul meant.

"Hey," He said as he jogged toward you and when he stopped you finally got a good look at him.

His brown hair was styled into a quiff and his brown eyes pierced into with fake concern. Paul's eyes always matched his intentions, he was never one to fake anything. And despite Paul ghosting you, you were looking for him to come and save you.

"I'm sorry about what happened with Lahote," He continued.

At first, you were shocked by his boldness but you decided it'd be best to play dumb and mess with him.

"What happened with him?" You asked and titled your head to play the confused role perfectly.

"He like ditched you and joined a gang," He spoke as if that were the most obvious thing in the world.

"He ditched me? It's weird that you know more about my life than I do," You were being sarcastic but the boy in front of you just wasn't getting it.

"Well, enough about him. I was wondering if you'd let me take you on a date."

You were truly dumbfounded now. The jump from gossip to dates gave you whiplash. In what world did he think that that was a good segway?

"Uh... I'm actually really busy. I just started a new job that I'm already running late to so I'll see you-"

"I've been wanting to ask you but you've always seemed so attached to Paul like you couldn't breathe without him. Maybe if you started talking to other people, you wouldn't be so dependent on him," He scoffed.

"Are you, like, kiddi-"

"Paul!"

You sighed at the sound of another voice and looked over Zander's shoulder. Paul was storming down the steps of the school with his new best friend in tow.

"What part of 'no' don't you understand?" He hostilely questioned Zander, getting in his face.

"And look who it is. The boy that ditched his only friend to go do drugs. Honestly, I don't think you have any say in what she does," Zander bit back, not stepping back from a fuming Paul.

Now that the boy was standing next to you, you noticed how different he looked. He grew a few inches and now towered over you. He was muscular, not scrawny like he was a few weeks ago. And if your eyes weren't deceiving you, he had a tattoo that was peeking out of the short sleeve.

Paul's face was now a bright red and his entire body was shaking profusely. You've seen Paul angry but you've never seen him like this.

"Paul?" You called out and looked up at his face. "Paul, are you okay?"

"Paul, not here,” Jared tried to get through to him.

You moved yourself to stand in between the two boys since you saw that neither was going to back down.

"Paul," You spoke calmly and looked up at his eyes.

He looked down at you, his eyes meeting yours, and he relaxed almost instantly. He stopped shaking and his face was back to a gentle composition.

"Freaks," Zander mumbled and walked by to the school.

You took a step back from Paul now that you had space behind you.

"You okay?" You asked, your eyes never leaving his.

"Y-yeah-"

"Great," You nodded and moved to go around him and to your car. You didn't want to talk to him any more than you needed to. What did you have to talk about unless he was apologizing?

"Y/N, wait!" Paul objected and grabbed your arm, pulling you back to face him.

"Wait for what? Don't you think I've done enough waiting, Paul? I waited around for you for far too long. And now you only want to admit I exist when some other guy wants to talk to me? We're not friends anymore. You made that very clear. I've waited for you but now I'm done," You ranted before looking back at Jared. "Good luck with... whatever."

You pulled your arm out of his grip and stalked to the car just as the rain started.

"Wasn't even supposed to rain," You mumbled to yourself and pulled out of the parking spot.

As you drove out of the parking lot, you watched as Paul stood there, mouth agape. You watched as he got smaller and until you eventually didn't see him anymore.

Now he'd know how it felt to be left stranded and waiting.

[AN: I don’t think I’m gonna write a part two for this just because it’d be super cliche and I try to avoid stuff like that lol. but shoutout to the anon that requested this because this inspired me to write; I’ve been trying to write for like a month or two now but like I’ve been stuck. and also to the anon that sent the embry request, I didn’t forget about you ! xoxo]

[justasparkwritings]

Troll In Luv: Part 2

Previous: Troll in Luv Pt. 1

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Exes to Lovers; Non-Idol AU, Angst eventual Fluff

Rating: PG-17

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Swearing, Making Out, Kissing

Summary: Your hand is forced, and the only way to come out on top is to reckon with your ex and apologize for past transgressions... er tweets.  

Note: This fic is dedicated to, written for, the incomparable @xjoonchildx​, who I have been lucky enough to be paired with. A major fan, this was an intimidating endeavor, and I’m kind of in love with what I’ve created for her. And if she hates it it’s totally trash... jk. mostly. 

This piece is for the #thebtswritersclub fic exchange!

Banner by me.

Tag List (is this how you do it no ones ever asked before): @unicornbabylover​

Thursday: Jimin’s Apartment

           Jimin hadn’t just moved on up, he’s leveled up completely. Gone were the Ikea pieces that he’d spent hours assembling, only to realize they’d given him the wrong part and he’d had to trek back to the store to rectify it. Gone were the plastic plates and cups he’d collected from Penny Pitchers at the bar across campus. Gone were the free t-shirts and dance company sweats he’d torn or cut to make them more comfortable for practice.

          In their place, Jimin had picked out custom fabrics to cover his chairs, found small batch glass plates and bowls to line his open kitchen shelves. He’d sourced a Persian rug from a little hole in the wall shop that had been in the neighborhood for seventy years and had runners made from their remnants. He’d curated his space, and his wardrobe, to fit the Jimin he’d always been. Each piece made up for the times that he could only hold onto cheap knock offs, embarrassed when someone noticed a shirt he was wearing from a bag they’d donated to Goodwill.

          Stepping into his space, it was hard not to gawk. Every inch of this apartment screamed maturity, knocking you off your feet. Had you been missing out on this for years? This Jimin, adult Jimin, was far more impressive than you’d realized. It was hard not to feel your heart hurting, yearning for the years you had been together, the moments shared, the love that had blossomed in your youth.

          This was going to be more devastating than you realized.

          “Can I get you something to drink?” Jimin asked. He took your jacket and purse, hanging them on the steampunk inspired coat rack.

          “Um, water would be good, thanks,” You said, moving through the entry way to the kitchen. “How long have you lived here?”

          “Uh, two years? But I just finished decorating maybe a month ago,”

          “It’s incredible,”

          “Thanks, how’s the magazine?”

          “A fucking shit show,” You took the glass from his hands, careful not to let his fingers brush against yours.

          “Hoseok mentioned that things have been getting more, challenging?”

          “Yeah, that’s the nice way of putting it.”

          “Hm,” Jimin hummed, sipping his own water.

          “How’s your job? I don’t, I know Hoseok and Tae and Jungkook have told me about what you do, but, what do you do?” You phrased your question carefully, knowing precisely what he has been up to. You’ve seen his campaigns, his work on water bottles and stickers around the city, not to mention his designs being picked up by Target and thrown onto pillows, blankets and beach towels. He’d won an award last year for his artwork that had been picked up and used as the home screen on the most recent Mac Book, Mac Book Pro and Mac Book Air. He was being considered as a new graphic artist for Penguin Publishing, working on new book jackets as well as negotiating a seven-figure deal with Target, only to be outbid by Costco.

          Jimin was everywhere, but he absolutely didn’t need to know that you knew that. He didn’t need to know how angry you were that neither of you actually ‘won’ your breakup.

          “Well, I graduated with a degree in graphic design and a minor in dance. After I discovered I didn’t want to dance professionally, I got a job in graphics. I kept working on projects and three years ago started my own company. My work has been in a lot of different places, which, I’m sure you’ve seen,” Jimin sipped his water, pouted lips glistening as the liquid graced over them.

          “Awfully cocky,” You smirked, long lasting Charlotte Tilbury, Glastonberry purple lipstick marking the glass.  

          “Or I know you well enough to know that you’ve been keeping tabs on me,” Jimin had no need to be cocky, he knew he was right. All he had to do was be confident.

          “That’s an awfully big assumption for you to make. But it’s cool, it explains why your apartment is Architectural Digest ready. Unless, you have a girlfriend with excellent taste who designed it all,” You were baiting him, and in the internal monologue that never shut the fuck up, you were beating yourself up over the fact that Erin had been correct.

          Jimin rolled his eyes, “Why don’t you just ask if I’m seeing someone?”

          “Now why would I be that direct?” You questioned.

           “You’ve been sitting behind a computer screen, trolling me for years instead of just talking to me. I should’ve expected you to find some roundabout way to ask if I’m single,” Jimin set his glass on the countertop and crossed his arms over his chest, defiance brooding in his dark eyes.

           “Look, I know it’s fucked up, that I’m fucked up. It is the sole purpose of me going to therapy,” You explained.

           “I would hope so,” Jimin scoffed. He’d never been indifferent to you, but you supposed you couldn’t expect anything less than anger after years of unwarranted harassment. Mentally, you kicked yourself over the fact that Claire had been right.

           “Jimin,” You sighed.

           “What?” He snapped.

           “I’m sorry,” You stared into his softening eyes, the ones you’d spent years trying to replace, burning the memories into your retinas once again.

           “Sorry for what?”

           “For everything,”

           “Care to be more specific?” He moved towards you, gliding from the far side of the kitchen to stand opposite you, elbows leaning against the cool granite of the countertop he custom ordered.

           “I have loved you since we were fifteen, okay? When you left, when I left,” You sighed, there was never going to be a poetic or graceful way to lay out your tumultuous feelings, but you owed it to yourself to try. “I never told you how much I loved you, or how much it hurt when you just, you moved on so quickly, and I didn’t know how to tell you that I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want to break up, I didn’t want to fall into another cliché of high school sweethearts preemptively breaking each other into pieces because of college. I wanted us to be the cliché that lasted, that worked. But you just, I’ve been hurting for years and I didn’t think you’d care, because you didn’t back then, so why would you now?”

           “So, you harassed me on the internet?” Jimin asked.

           You rolled your eyes. “It didn’t start out that way,”

           “How did it start?”

           “Someone sent me a link to your profile, and I just, retweeted with a stupid comment and you responded. In my gut, I thought, I felt, that you knew it was me. Why else would you engage with it? You didn’t engage with anyone else,” Your rehearsed explanation made perfect sense, you’d spent years crafting it, tweaking the language, ensuring there were no loopholes.

           “You checked?” Jimin’s smirk was back. Fuck him, it looked good against his angelic eyes.

           “I’m a journalist, Jimin,”

           “Still, you checked,”

           “The point is, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been needling you for years. I’m sorry I didn’t just tell you how much I loved you, I’m sorry I’ve been a massive bitch, rivaling only Heather Chandler. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, and I’m sorry Claire wrapped you up in this stupid article that I am no longer participating in. I’m sorry that even after I changed my fucking Twitter handle and you knew it was me, that I kept being a mythic bitch. I’m sorry for being the villain in your life.”

           “I’m sorry too,” Jimin rushed to say.

           “What do you have to be sorry for?”

           “I was a coward back then, too scared by what Yoongi and Namjoon said about dating in college. I should’ve, I should’ve fought for us more than I did.” He admitted.

          It hadn’t taken him long to realize the colossal mistake he had made, but by then Yoongi and Joon had planted the seeds in his mind that no one in their right mind makes it with their high school sweetheart. What a naïve notion, to stay with the same person you’ve loved since puberty.

           “Remember when you came back for my dad’s wedding?” You asked.

           “I regret that,” Jimin told you.

           “I cried for two days,”

           “I’m sorry,” He couldn’t look at you, his years of unsaid apologies waiting behind his pouting lips.

           “It was such a dick move.”

           Jimin smiled softly, he had missed the way you over exaggerated your speech, adding emphasis to superlatives, the slight way your eyes rolled when you were trying to make a point. A habit you’d developed in high school, he was glad to see you hadn’t replaced it with a new inane ritual. He still very much liked this one, found it endearing even after years of missing out on it.

           “I know,” He conceded.

           “I can only assume it was on purpose.”

           “It, yeah, yeah, Hoseok said you were getting cozy with Seokjin,” He explained.

           “I was,” You nodded.

           “Was?”

           “He broke my heart, sometime after you showed up to New Years with what’s her name on your arm and proceeded to make the after-hours dance party in Dirty Dancing look like the Russian Ballet. Oh, and can’t forget you nearly fucking her in the kitchen as the ball dropped, which Yoongi made a very dirty joke about it.”

          You hadn’t kept a list of all his transgressions… but you had kept a list of all his transgressions, all his missteps, all his calculated moves, only to plan your own counterstrike. Erin had been right, you had started the Twitter battle, but Jimin had poisoned the blood between you long before you tweeted about it.

           “I was drunk,” He excused.

           “You did it on purpose,” You rolled your eyes, Jimin had forgotten how cute that was too.

           “I did,” He conceded.

           “I wasn’t fucking Seokjin on the dance floor for everyone to see,” You tossed back the rest of your water, eyes glancing at the living room where a framed photo remained. Prom, you in his arms, Hoseok beside you, Namjoon eyeing Caitlin Anderson, his date that you had made a point to not allow in the photo. She wasn’t sticking around, why ruin your group pic? (Namjoon still was pissed about this, though he hadn’t spoken to her since he left for college.) You were all too preoccupied with rules to drink, do drugs or smoke, so while your classmates were getting wrecked, you went bowling until 2AM. Jimin had climbed into your bedroom, after supposedly dropping you off, and you’d promised each other the world.

          It didn’t last through summer.

           Jimin sighed, a hand running through his bleached locks, tugging gently at the ends. “You weren’t.”

           “You didn’t have anything to prove, Jimin. I had already gotten the message. Too fucking loud and too fucking clear.” Your voice became small, the heart of your hurt, the source of your pain, bubbling up to the surface.

           “What was that message?” Jimin noted the change in your dynamic, your hand moving to play with the earring in your top hole, twirling it thoughtlessly as your eyes drug themselves from your prom photo back to him.

           “That you didn’t want me,” You whispered.

           Jimin let it sit in the air, the real reason you had harassed him, the real reason you were sitting in his kitchen, tears forming, lip trembling. This entire time, you had thought he didn’t want you anymore, didn’t love you, didn’t think you were his sun and moon.

           “Is that why Seokjin broke up with you?” He asked.

           “That he didn’t want me?” You questioned. He was toeing the line, danger signs would’ve been flashing, horns and sirens wailing telling Jimin to back the fuck off.

           “No, that you still wanted me,” He clarified.

           “Yeah, something like that,” You mumbled.

           “I wanted you too,” Jimin admitted.

           “Bullshit,”

           “You think I would bring around random girls if I didn’t think you would be there? That I would parade around, embarrassing myself, just to show off whoever was on my arm? Do you really think that little of me?” Jimin demanded, his anger that he’d long thought he’d worked through coming back to the surface. He was no longer calm, no longer sympathetic to your puppy dog eyes.

           “Jimin, I don’t know what to think of you! You broke my heart because of something Yoongi said, Yoongi, who doesn’t date let alone love anyone other than Jungkook, and then proceeded to what, listen to Namjoon?” Standing from your seat, you pushed the stool back under the immaculate white countertop. “What the fuck did they know about our relationship that I didn’t? Why were they making decisions about us, us, you and me, Jimin? Why did they have power and I had none?”

           “I was, I was scared,” He admitted, his voice meek against your thunderous admissions.

           “Bullshit! I was scared, you were cavalier.”

           “You don’t meet your person when you’re fifteen!” He yelled, anger coming to a head.

           “Are you fucking kidding me?” You’re yelling back, returning decibel for decibel. Stool pushed back, hand through your hair, blazer coming off to reveal the cheetah print blouse underneath. It was too hot in his apartment, too hot to have this conversation sober, too hot to be staring at him, the man who knew everything, everything, about you. It was too much for him to be confessing that he was a pussy.

           “No, I’m not,”

           “Park Jimin, you fucking asshole.”

           “I’m so-

           “No, no you’re not. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t be standing in front of me, trying to pawn off your emotions as fodder in some naïve fallacy that says you can’t grow and mature with the person you love at fifteen. You are absolutely fucking unbelievable Jimin.” Untucking your shirt, you moved towards the living room and the open window.

           “I’m so-

           “Shut up! You don’t get it, do you?” You asked, the tears stinging your eyes begging to be released.

           “Get what?” He muttered. You hear him plop down on the couch, and you know he’s slumped back, legs resting against the reclaimed wood coffee table, hands tucked behind his head, watching you.

           “You, Jimin! Do you understand who you are?” You turned, the cool air soothing against your shoulders.

           “I thought I did but apparently not, so enlighten me,” He requested.

           “You love harder than anyone I’ve ever met. You crave love, you seek it out from your friends and family and yes, your girlfriends. You remember every detail, every expression, every glance carries weight in your eyes. You love the hardest, you hurt the deepest, and when you said you didn’t think we’d make it, what else was I supposed to do other than believe you?”

           “I was an idiot! I was a child!” Jimin ran an unsteady hand through his locks, again, his nervous habit coming out in full force. “I was 18 and all I wanted was to elope, but I couldn’t because I had to make a name for myself. My parents demanded it from me, what was I to do, get lost in you? I was already drowning Y/N! All I breathed was you and fuck me if I wasn’t ready to commit to you but I knew you didn’t want to be the Topanga to my Cory so what could I do?”

           “There are a lot of things you could’ve done! You could’ve said something to me. You could’ve been amicable. You could’ve shared your fears and your hopes with me, Jimin. You didn’t have to parade around with girlfriend after girlfriend and tell me you didn’t want us anymore!”

           “I thought you were falling in love with someone else!” Jimin said.

           “Why does it matter what I was doing? Whenever you saw me, did you see me flaunting my new relationship in your face? Why did you, why would you think that I was ever over you?”

           “You were with Seokjin for two years,” Jimin answered, it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

           “Oh, so I have a stable relationship and you assume it’s okay to be a dick?” You quipped. Sitting on the couch, your body relishes in the ease with which you let off a little tension.

           “No, you had someone else,” Jimin turned, arm propped on the back of the couch, body facing yours.

           “Doesn’t mean you had the right to treat me the way you did,” You hadn’t been this close to him in years, his breath mingling with yours. You could see the crinkles near his eyes, from moments when his laughter was the only thing on his mind.

           “I wanted to marry you,” Jimin reached his hand towards yours, intertwining your fingers, still a perfect fit.

           “But you didn’t,” You remind him.

           “I haven’t,” Jimin’s eyes were set your hand, your ring finger naked, heated gaze willing a diamond to be made out of the hair around you.

           “Jimin,”

           “We’ve been here for hours, we’ve rehashed the past, but not once have you said why you kept trolling me,” He turned his eyes back to yours, pleading softly for you to tell him that what he thinks you mean is truth, not willful thinking.

           “Because, Jimin. You’re so fucking dense sometimes,” You rolled your eyes, how did he not get it?

           “Because isn’t an-

           “I love you! You fucking asshole. I love you. I keep tabs on you because I’m still harboring some insanely poetic, pathetic, sociopathic love for you, Jimin. My first love, my only love. I know I’ve been a massive twat, I know it, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ruining the last five or so years of your life, I’m sorry for tweeting at you and about you. I’m sorry that I never said anything to you during college. I’m sorry I asked your mom not to tell you that we still talk. I’m sorry that I can’t seem to let you go. I’m sorry that I still love you.”

          The tears fell freely, cascading down your cheeks and neck, path only interfered when Jimin brought your face into his hands, thumbs moving meticulously to wipe the falling droplets. He’d always loved cupping your cheeks, holding your face delicately between his hands. He loved the intimacy, the care, the inability to hide anything from each other.

           “Marry me,” Jimin said, voice clear over your sobs.

           “What?”

           “Let’s go to city hall, get a license, let’s just, get married. Now, right now,”

           “Jimin, we’ve hardly-

           “I know my mom talks to you, she told me. She’s always told me. I still, I still talk to your dad, too. He texts me like once a week,” Jimin confessed.

           “You do?” You couldn’t believe it, your parents knew too?

           “I’ve always loved you, always. I knew-

           “You asshole! You fucking suck! Why did you make me pour out my heart like this only to tell me you fucking knew? Was this a ruse? Oh my god, are you The Duke? Am I Daphne? Quick, make haste to the gallery wall in your hallway so we can stare at the photos of your years without me and pretend that our hands touching isn’t the sexiest thing to happen since Regé Jean Page boxed shirtless,” You rambled in between wiping your dripping nose against your blouse sleeve. Words spilled from you, tumbled out from your lips at a speed you hadn’t reached in years. Jimin always knew how to get you so worked up air seemed like a luxury.  

           Jimin stood to retrieve a tissue box from the bathroom.

           “This wasn’t a ruse; I didn’t know you’d come over to talk about our relationship, our past. I was going to reach out I just, I thought you hated me.”

           He sat back down, this time closer, knee bumping against yours, leaning in to speak in docile tones.

           “When have I ever hated you?” You questioned.

           “I can think of at least one hundred occasions where you’ve said that you have,”

           “Such an-

           “And you keep calling me names,” Jimin rolled his eyes. You’ve always loved how he rolled his eyes, subtle and gentle, but deadly and effective.

           “I love you means you don’t have to say you’re sorry, so I won’t say it again,” You countered. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips.

           “But I’ll say it, because while you’ve been angrily tweeting me, a poor attempt at showing your feelings,” Jimin braced for the contact of your hand against his shoulder, a gentle hit, accompanied by your own eyeroll and scoff. “Listen, I too have been an asshole. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I do accept your apologies, and I do forgive you. I love you, always have,” Jimin had taken both your hands in his, and gently, he placed kisses on each of your knuckles.

           “Jimin,” You murmured.

           “What Y/N?”

           “I accept your apologies. I love you, so much, and I’m sorry I wasted the last few years instead of just saying that I wanted us to try again.” You turned your hands over, mimicking his gesture by placing lingering kisses across the back of his hand.

           “I’m sorry I didn’t fight for us during college. I’m sorry I brought girlfriends to family events, I’m sorry my actions made you think I stopped loving you.”

           “You didn’t, right?” You peered up at him, lips leaving the palm of his left hand.

           “Never,” Jimin held your gaze, watching as you sat up.  

           “Even when you were dating skanky girl number three, with the nose ring and the summer house in Montauk? That you brought home for spring break and asked if you could bring to Namjoon’s parent’s anniversary?” You questioned.

           “You really want to rehash everything, don’t you?” Jimin chuckled, your ridiculousness knew no bounds.

           “I mean, we don’t have to right now we-

           “Can I kiss you?” Jimin leaned forward, cherry lips finding purchase on the delicate flesh on the inside of your wrists, a sensation that specialized in making your toes curl.

           “You think that’s wise?” Your voice, a breathy groan embarrassingly needy, seemed to belong to someone other than you. Someone who needed Jimin to toss them over his shoulder and fuck into his $2,000 sheets.

           Jimin laughed, “You were my first kiss, my first time, my first everything. You think now, as adults, kissing is going to ruin us getting back together?”

           “I just mean that, do we need to let this simmer before we, you know,” You bobbled your head, hair moving around to match the giddiness bubbling inside of you.

           “We don’t have to have sex,”

           “Yeah,” You sighed, “but don’t you like, really want to?”

           “And you call yourself a journalist!”

          “Shut up!”

          “You’re being ridiculous! Of course, I want to,” Jimin’s docile laugh sent a shiver down your spine.

          “I am being cautious, I need to know that you, that you want this,” You reiterated.

          It hurt to have to ask Jimin to give you something he already had, to give you his love again, to give you his trust. But it wasn’t you who ended this relationship, it wasn’t you who thought your relationship wouldn’t last through college. You knew you could work through it all; it was Jimin that walked away shattering your heart and your trust. It was Jimin who was scared of being with you, Jimin who needed to prove he was going to make this work. Jimin who had lost it all and needed to fight for you again.

          “You’re asking me if I want to have sex with the love of my life, after years of not being able to touch her, to kiss her, to love her the way she’s earned?” Jimin asked.

           “Yes,”

           “To borrow a phrase from you, fuck you for thinking either one of us has any self-control. Especially when it comes to each other. How many tweets have we exchanged? How many times have you asked Hoseok about me, or my mother?” Jimin cupped your cheeks again, eyes darting from you slightly parted, purple stained lips to your eyes. “I’m in this, for good, and I will tell you every day until you believe me again.”

           “Me too, though you should know I’ve picked up a few new habits I’m sure Taehyung has told you about,” You leaned into his touch, cheek warming at the light callouses that remained from his overeager workouts, and mic twirls he mastered in too many nights singing karaoke with Jungkook.

           “Yeah?”

           “Yeah, I’ve started wrapping my hair. And I’m also still allergic to kiwi,” You reminded him.

           “Good, who needs a slimy green fruit with too many seeds?”

           “Truly no one, except Australians,” You laughed and your pun.  

           “Remember that day before senior year, when we got smoothies, but they didn’t tell you that they’d put kiwi in it, and you had to go the emergency room?” Jimin’s hands have dropped from your face, instead clapping together, head tossing back as his laughter overtook his body.

           “Or the time after watching Friends, Joon decided he wanted to make a kiwi-lime pie despite the fact we told him not to put kiwi, and he did anyway?” You laughed with him, head leaning against the arm that he had extended across the back of the couch.

           “You wanted to kill him,” Jimin agreed.

           “He forgot he had put it in! Then forced me to try it! I still hear his voice, ‘Y/N, please just a bite. Please, I worked really hard on it, come on, just a taste, please’. I swear to you, Sara Bareilles heard him and saved it for the Waitressmusical,” You laughed.

          “I don’t remember who was more pissed, your mom or you,” Jimin added.

          “He offered to pay for my hospital visit,”

          “He paid it all off, didn’t he?”

          “Before the month had ended, he didn’t even work out a payment plan, and bought me a new EpiPen,” You couldn’t stop laughing. Namjoon, the ever-lovable oaf, had never stopped apologizing for badgering you into eating his fucking pie. You couldn’t even tell if it was good, the minute the kiwi hit your tongue, your body reacted.

          “He’s always been, responsible,” Jimin was calming down, high pitched squeaks on longer radiating off his vocal cords.

          “To a fault,” You sighed. “My mom gave it all back to him, she saved it for the day he graduated college and got into med school.”

          “Was he shocked?”

          “Pleasantly so,”

          Jimin hummed in agreement, his arm moving to drape across your shoulders, your body relaxing back into him. Your head found its way to his shoulder, and slowly you breathed in his scent. He’d changed colognes since the last time you’d been this close, this vulnerable with him. You liked it, fresh and crisp, with undertones of sandalwood and something that smelled like Kimchi, though you knew Jimin enough to know he’d probably eaten some for lunch. You liked it, his warmth pulling you to him, the safety of his embrace reminding you of all the days and nights you’d spent just like this.

           “Jimin?”

           “Yes?”

           “Did you, after we broke up did you ever, fall in love again?” You craned your neck to try and catch his expression.

           “No, I got close, but I never did. Did you fall in love with Seokjin?”

           “It’s complicated. I loved him, I did, but I wasn’t in love with him,” You moved ever so slowly out of his grasp, trying to gage his expression.

           “Did you think you’d get married?” Jimin leaned closer. His movement, calculated and timid, hatched the cocoons in your stomach into full butterflies, beating wings against your insides.

           “No, well,” You tilted your head, a habit from Hoseok, and licked your bottom lip. You should’ve remembered to put Aquaphor on your lips before leaving the cab. “One time I thought maybe we might work out, maybe we’d find a way through, well, you. But he never, he always kind of knew that my heart was still tied up with yours.”

           Jimin watched as you wet your bottom lip, tongue gracefully moving to swipe across your flesh, hoping to take the place of your tongue with his own.

           “Did he, did he bring me up when he-

           “Dumped me?”

           “Yeah,”

           “Kind of,” You blinked quickly, eyes trying to discern if Jimin was in fact moving closer, or if your vision was playing tricks on you and trying to zoom in on him while he moved way.

           “I’m sorry that I, that I was used against you. I’m -

          “Jimin, as much as I would love to iron out the details of Seokjin dumping me, and I’m sure negotiating the terms of us getting back together, and naturally filling each other in on the last few years we’ve been apart…” You licked your lips again, “Your lips keep getting farther away from mine and I really, really need to kiss you.”

          Jimin didn’t need to be told twice, and lunged forward, pinning you beneath him, hips pressing into yours, pressure of his body against you, holding you to him.

           “I missed you,” Jimin said before closing the space between you, plump, soft and supple lips pressing aggressively against yours. You knew he’d be stained purple, the thought of him walking into whatever We-Work adjacent workspace his office was in, with purple tinted lips and bruised flesh, thrilled you.

           Jimin had always been your favorite person to kiss. Tasting like nostalgia and 7/11 Slurpee’s that you’d split on summer days, half blue raspberry, half cherry, two large straws and a sugar hangover that almost always led to naps on the hammock in your mom’s backyard. Kissing adult Jimin, experienced Jimin, Jimin who had slept with other people besides you, was intoxicating. Skilled in the way he used his tongue against yours, nibbling your bottom lip before diving in, he’d learned a few new tricks that had you moaning underneath him.

           “You know,” You started, his lips gnawing at the flesh of your neck, hot kisses and love bites decorating you a shade of purple you wished Charlotte Tilbury sold. “I still haven’t seen your bedroom.”

           Jimin laughed, “Oh so now you’re going to be direct?”

           “When have I ever been subtle?”

           “Clearly not in your Tw-

           “Jimin,” You interrupted, index finger silencing his lips. “Just, take me to your bed and make love to me. I promise, I swear, I won’t troll you on the internet ever again, okay?”

           “Okay,” Jimin couldn’t stop smiling as he stood, adjusted the waistband of his flat front chinos, and reached for your hand. “Come on, we’ve got five and a half years and a shit ton of tweets to make up for.”

           Rolling your eyes, you stood, hand in his and followed him down the hallway, past the gallery wall and into his bedroom, where you clocked another photo from high school, this time just you and Jimin, his parents and brother, smiling at high school graduation. You turned to him, ready to comment but cut off by his lips again, hands pulling you towards him, arms wrapping you in his embrace.

           As you drowned in Jimin, in the way his bare skin felt against yours, how his hands moved, tender and lovingly on your skin, relearning routes and maps he’d written many moons ago, it was easy to remember why you’d fallen love with him, and even easier to remember why you’d never gotten the love you shared. Jimin was attentive, passionate, loving, giving… he took his time with you, waited for you to be ready, brought out the best in you in every situation. With his voice in your ear, his sounds overriding the previous iteration you’d had on lock from your teen years, his hips grinding into yours, reclaiming what he had once lost, Jimin rewrote the future you hadn’t been able to imagine since he broke your heart.

          In his ministrations on your body, his love personified in how he made your toes curl, your mind blank, your body his, Jimin vowed to love you, to stand by you, to hate who you hate and love who you love. To feed your every obsession and call you on your bullshit. He promised to protect you, to ensure you never eat kiwi, and to tell you he loves you at least three times every day, beyond earning your trust, beyond you believing him, beyond putting a ring on your finger and giving you his last name (if you wanted to take it). He vowed to never leave, not when it gets tough, not when he is scared, not when you spew that you hate him, which you inevitably will. In return, you promised to give him the world, which he admittedly had whenever you were with him.

           Love was complicated and messy… and it pissed you off to no end to know that all it took was a few years of dragging Jimin on Twitter to get the love of your life back.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Howlin’ For You – Drabble

I’ve had this idea stuck in my head for months now and decided to just finally give in a write it. 

Some protective Biker!Dad!Bucky and a wee bit of Amelia

Bucky and Amelia were driving back from school.

By some miracle, Bucky knew enough not to pick her up on his motorcycle. He learned the hard way that that his daughter was starting to find it embarrassing. There once was a time – when she was still a kid and not a teenager – that Amelia thought it was cool that her dad drove a motorcycle.

Now she was embarrassed by it. The comments about how hot her dad was didn’t go unnoticed by Amelia and made her want to throw up. She also just hated unwarranted attention of any kind.

Bucky had been asking Amelia about her day when his cell started ringing.

“It’s mom,” Amelia said, seeing the screen before him.

He picked it up right away. “Hey, doll.”

“Are you guys too close to home? I realized I forgot a couple of things for dinner. Would you mind stopping by the store for me real quick?”

“Yep. Just text me what you need. Me and Amelia will grab it.”

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” Y/N answered before hanging up.

“Mom forget to buy ingredients again?” Amelia smirked.

“Yep,” Bucky chuckled. “Mind running in and grabbing it if I give you my card?”

She nodded. 

A few minutes later, they were pulling into the parking lot of Whole Foods.

Amelia jumped out.

“Hey,” Bucky grabbed her attention before she could run in. She paused. “Buy some flowers for your ma, too.”

She rolled her eyes. “What kind?”

“The prettiest ones,” Bucky told her with a chuckle.

Amelia scoffed, “That’s helpful…”

She pretended to be grossed out and annoyed by her parent’s loving marriage and partnership. But she also saw how different it was from her friends’ parents, who all seemed to hate each other.

Bucky watched his daughter walk towards the entrance.

But his attention quickly averted to the group of young men that were loitering just outside the entrance. All of their gazes were fixed on Amelia, ogling her body up and down.  

If his window hadn’t been down, Bucky might’ve missed the disgusting catcalling that was aimed at his daughter.

His grip immediately tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles going white.

If Amelia had heard it, she pretended not to and continued on walking.

Bucky wondered when she learned the womanly skill of ignoring the disgusting behavior of men. 

He hated that she had to. He also hated that she was only 15 and men were already targeting her as if she was a grown woman. They had to be in their early 20s, which only infuriated Bucky even further.

‘Breathe, Bucky. Just breathe.’ That’s what Y/N would tell him if she were here right now. She’d try to calm him down and prevent him from doing anything rash.

But she wasn’t here and Bucky’s anger was getting the best of him.

Before he could change his mind, Bucky shoved his car door open and slammed it shut behind him.

His walk alone was murderous. And it caught the attention of one of the guys. He hit his friends’ chests and nodded toward Bucky, grabbing everyone else’s attention.

“Hey! What did you just say to her?” Bucky asked.

He’d give them a chance to look guilty for their actions, to immediately realize that what they’d just done was wrong.

But they weren’t that smart.

However, they did seem to know what he was talking about and started laughing amongst themselves.

“Why don’t you fuck off, old man?” One of them muttered without looking Bucky in the eye and turned his back on him, bringing his attention back to his friends who were laughing again.

It only made Bucky’s anger worse.

Alright. He’d tried it Y/N’s way. And that didn’t work.

Now it was his way.

Bucky grabbed the one who had talked back to him and slammed him against the car they were all standing near.

“Hey! Hey! Whoa, man! Chill the fuck out!” One of the friends panicked.

They weren’t so tough now, realizing that even though they were outnumbered, this stranger was taller and stronger than they were. It probably didn’t ease their panic that they saw a knife attached to the back of his waist on his jeans. 

“How old do you think that girl was?” Bucky hissed, his grip on the shirt tightening.  

His voice and tone were disturbingly relaxed. Through his military training and being around too many alpha males, Bucky learned that the man with the most control and composure always came out on top.

“I-I-I don’t know, man! 21?” The guy stuttered, eyes wide with fear.

Bucky slammed against the car again. “She’s 15 years old.”

“How was I supposed–”

“It doesn’t matter how old she is,” Bucky snapped. “No girl or woman wants to be catcalled. Do you understand me?”

The guy just stared up at Bucky, hoping that he wasn’t going to get hurt.

“I said, do you understand me?” Bucky repeated, annoyance evident in his voice.

The guy nodded his head quickly, realizing that showing his understanding was the only way he was going to survive this interaction unscathed.

Bucky released him roughly and then turned to acknowledge the boy’s friends.

“You idiots ever heard of the Howling Commandos?”

They all looked at each other and gave one another a reluctant nod. 

Everyone in the area had heard of the biker gang in some way or another. Some people knew they existed and others were convinced they were just an urban legend.

“If I or any one of them ever see you talk to another woman that way again, I think you can imagine what’ll be in store for you.” Bucky tilted his head and raises his eyebrows, offering them the chance to make the mistake of asking him to elaborate. 

With that, he slowly walked back to his car.

As soon as his back was turned to the guys, they all scrambled to get into their car and make a run for it.

A few minutes later, Amelia was practically skipping back to the car.

“I got mom a bouquet of Dahlias. I feel like their weird and creepy, so she’ll like them.”

Bucky chuckled. “Good choice.” He was trying his best to act like nothing happened. 

He knew how much Amelia got freaked out when Bucky turned all biker on the world. 

If Amelia noticed her dad acting more tense, she didn’t comment on it.

But Y/N, however, wasn’t one to let things go unacknowledged.

When Y/N and Bucky were finally alone in their bed at the end of the night, she asked him what was going on.

Bucky reluctantly told her about his little altercation.

“Should I talk to Amelia?” He asked her.

Y/N sighed. “It’s not about talking to Amelia or teaching her anything. It’s about making the world a safer place for her. And you know how you do that?” She asked him gently with an encouraging smile.

“Huh?”

“By raising boys to know better. And I think we did a pretty good job with the twins, don’t you think?”

Bucky shrugged. “If I ever heard the boys say those things to a woman…” he got angry just thinking about it.

“They would never, Bucky. You know that.” Y/N defended.

He knew Y/N was right. But he was grumpy and pissed off, quite frankly. Owen and Grayson were just two young men out of millions. It didn’t really feel like much of an impact to Bucky. It was other people’s sons that he was worried about – not his own.

A moment of silence passed between them.

“You feel helpless, right? Like you can’t control what other people do?” Y/N asked.

Bucky nodded, realizing that’s exactly how he felt.

“What you are experiencing is minuscule to what every woman feels like every day of her life.”

Bucky blinked as he processed what she meant. “I’m sorry, doll.”

She chuckled and laid her head on her husband’s chest. “You don’t have to be sorry, Buck. Plus, ‘sorry’ isn’t going to stop other men from being misogynistic assholes.”

He brushed her hair out of her face and off her neck. His hand then moving to rub her back. 

In minutes, she was fast asleep.

But Bucky couldn’t find rest so easily. All the women in his life taught him different things about the way the world saw and treated women. He just never expected his daughter to be the one to teach him another lesson.

---------

I missed writing for Howlin’ For You, so there ya go. 

[caliwashere]

TGKDN Ch 20.5-22 Thoughts & Spoilers

I didn’t want to spam post so I’m going to shorten these 3 chapters (20.5 is literally almost the same length as a regular chapter sooo)

context: TGKDN is a jjkxoc (additional add-ons: dad!gojoxoc, yutaxoc, megumixoc) fic called Tsuki Ga Kirei Desu Ne. It’s linked in my bio in case anyone wants to read it. I don’t own TGKDN or take credit for the story/OCs! I’m just a fan!

spoilers below ⬇️

- these three chapters are the reason why i support the TGKDN rewrite so much 

- Imma be organized for once and split them into chapters cuz there’s so much to uncover for each of the three chapters (all the ppl who have been following since my old acc gasping cuz Cali’s gonna be organized for once lmaooo) anyways.....

Chapter 20.5

- HIYORI POV LETS GOOO 

-why is it that Hiyori POVs are the rarest when she’s literally the main character of this story ????

- the jars symbolism was just *chef’s kiss*

- honestly highlights one of the main differences between old TGKDN and rewrite TGKDN cuz there’s more in-depth talk about Hiyori’s struggles now to better paint that image of how she’s perfect at the surface 

-p sure this is the gojo and hiyori parallel cuz they’re both strong and “perfect” in almost every way but they’re actually not 

- whole chapter made me tear up a lil ngl like it hit where it hurt cuz it was relatable like the struggle of being responsible and doing what u believe is ur duty (my tsukuyo hiyori analysis rlly on point thooo wooooooo)

-author frames a lot of stuff in a pretty tasteful manner like the darker/heavier chapters involving mental struggle (i.e Jars + Under the Surface chapters) which honestly props to her cuz i could never 

- the only problem is that she does it too well and it rlly hits (my eyes be swollen too much cuz of this story)  where it hurts every time 

-yuta coming in to help my our precious bean (im writing a hiyorixreader fic for my own satisfaction afanfiosa) just at the right moment

-when he ate the salad aodinasioda she was so surprised 

- i had to google wtf a mousse cake was cuz im uncultured lol

- him opening the jar without saying anything and having no clue how his literal presence just makes her feel better 

- she literally says he’s amazing which mirrors what he said about her in one of the earlier chapters (i forgot which one ooops) DONT THINK I DIDNT CATCH THAT AUTHOR

-mans out here thinking its one-sided but she’s just as down bad as he is

-they’re so cute together

-bouta get cavities from how sweet they are

-they need to hurry up and date already aifnasifnsaionas

- feeling extra single after reading that chapter

- my heart feels full

Chapter 21

- PROTECTIVE BESTIE MAKI WOOOOOOOOOO

- love Maki and her POVS

- her and hiyori are literally best friend goals like i want that (if my irls see this ahahah no u didnt)

- the flower shop moment even the flower shop lady can tell yuta’s down bad lmaooo

- HE GETS HER ONE OF HER FAVORTE FLOWERS EVERY SINGLE DAY CUZ WHEN HE FIRST GOT HER A FLOWER IT WAS JUST ONE AFOIASFNIASFA THATS SO CUTE 

- kazuha. back. off.

- let her draw in her sketchbook that best aunt Shoko got her 

- at least he’s dead 😌 better not come between by precious TsukuOkko

- wait Yuri would be such a good ship name for YutaxHiyori thooo and it means lily too 

- my unwarranted kazuha hate cuz he’s literally the reason she got stabbed cuz she remembered his words from a flashback when she was about the absolutely destroy that crazy cult guy

- even Rika finds him creepy and she’s literally a yandere cursed spirit 

- hiyori not believing in soulmates when she’s literally blessed by a GOD and exorcises curses for a living is hilarious. GIRL U LITERALLY HAVE A TALKING FOX WDYM U THINK THE RED STRING OF FATE AND SOULMATES ARE UNREALISTIC 

- i wonder how this will work out since yuta obviously thinks they’re soulmates or smthin 

- ok tsuki is still mega sus but im starting to wonder if her disappearances for long periods of time in the story are just hiyori getting her to investigate stuff

- that would make sense but tsuki is still mega sus

- also still waiting to find out why hiyori paid mei mei 15 MILLION yen like what’s that about??? 

- ik gojo in the actual manga/anime pays mei mei 10 million at one point to help him with something so maybe it’s another parallel but i don’t think so at the same time

- what’s hiyori planning?? like why tell mei mei of all ppl to do it and not someone like nanami or something??

- moving on, what did Tsuki mean by “nothing on Hokkaido”? 

- maybe the mei mei thing + whatever is going on in Hokkaido is connected??

- we know hiyori is from hokkaido since that was where gojo found her soooo i feel like maybe she’s doing some investigation on what happened to her sister?

-back when her profile was up (pre-rewrite) it said that her main cause of stress was her missing sister so ig it makes sense

-im interested on how this subplot goes cuz even in the regular jjk anime/manga there’s a lot up with hokkaido like it just happened to be left out of Kenjaku’s culling games too

- i keep forgetting hiyori is rlly intuitive like ms. ma’am figured out something was up and got the investigation done 

- ok ok so yall know how tsuki says “if this gets out, you know what they’ll try to do since they’ve been trying to make you a more official part of the family for years now” after hiyori finds out that yuta is related to gojo? 

- i think it’s implying a forced marriage cuz we know that even tho hiyori is ADOPTED she’s still gojo’s heir AND we know that there’s a lot of attention and stuff placed on blood relations for the three big clans (like zenin, kamo, and gojo) cuz they’re old-fashioned like that (p sure there’s probably old-fashioned ppl in the gojo clan but not as bad as zenin and kamo cuz gojo satoru is the head of the clan) 

- if yuta and hiyori were to get married then she would be marrying someone of technical gojo blood cuz yuta is related to gojo thru a common ancestor even tho its distant WHICH would probably strengthen her claim as the next head of the gojo clan after satoru since that would make her an actual part of the gojo clan

- that’s definitely gonna be brought up again i can feel it in my bones 

- i think this is where u can see that hiyori, even tho she cares about doing what is most beneficial for the world and stuff along with how she mentioned she was down for an arranged marriage (not to yuta but in general) if that was most beneficiary, cares more about her loved ones cuz she’s not willing to subject yuta to an arranged marriage at all

- so ig i was wrong before and she places her loved ones and their happiness first over the world basically (aot eren yeager flashbacks oop)

-hiyori valuing yuta and rika’s relationship speaks volumes about her character because even tho yea it was probably superficial and like one of those kindergarten playground marriages type beat...it was still love 

- this is one of the reasons why i like hiyori’s character so much cuz never once does she even attempt to stand between rika and yuta’s relationship even tho she obviously has feelings for yuta

- she knows how important rika is to yuta and vice versa so she’s willing to give up and leave her feelings for yuta unrecipocated if that’s what makes both of them happy

- like this along with 20.5 emphasize how hiyori truly sees rika as a FRIEND even tho rika’s a murderous cursed spirit 

- maki is headstrong and obviously cares alot about hiyori so im glad that maki was the one who gave yuta the push he needed 

Chapter 22

- rika is so adorable going for the hello kitty plush aghhh

-  it’s nice that yuta went to tell rika first that he liked hiyori and even went thru the whole process of apologizing and stuff

- it emphasizes how yuta does love rika but he’s moving on now which most yutaxreader and yutaxoc writers don’t do like they undermine rika and yuta’s relationship in favor of the yutaxoc or yutaxreader relationship

- the author of tgkdn never once does this and emphasizes how yuta, even tho hes in love with hiyori, did love rika and still does and she’ll always have a place in his heart no matter what

- its made clear that rika will always be his childhood love and he will always love her but he also loves hiyori and he’s moving on from his past which is probably one of my favorite aspects about this book

- yuta doesn’t suddenly stop loving rika or decide he’s not gonna love her anymore. he still loves rika and he always will but he loves hiyori too and sure that love is probably greater than his love for rika cuz when ur younger u exaggerate a lot but rika will always remain as a part of his past/heart and that’s what matters 

- he chooses hiyori but its made clear that he will always care and love rika

- props to the author for doing that cuz that takes a lot of courage especially when ur own OC is involved (ik hiyori isn’t a self-insert oc but it still requires a lot of courage to pull something like this) to deal with a situation like this 

- back to hiyori, she never oversteps the boundary between her and yuta. she’s made it clear that she won’t pursue her feelings for yuta out of the respect she has for yuta, rika, and their relationships

- that’s what makes her so likeable as an oc cuz she never does something extremely stupid that can hurt other ppl just cuz she’s in love 

- her relationship with rika is one of my favorites cuz hiyori doesnt see rika as a cursed spirit but as who rika is as a person even tho hiyori has NEVER met human rika 

- yuta finding out that hiyori has been visiting rika’s grave broke my heart cuz that’s probably the moment he realized just how much of a kind soul hiyori is to go above and beyond for other people 

- like the moment he made the connection between the hello kitty stuffed animal and the hello kitty bracelet rika had was just perfect

- the flashbacks of what maki told him combined with him talking to rika is just a work of art in my opinion 

- i think this was probably one of the main points of yuta moving on and getting the closure he needs now all that’s left is rika to be freed then he finally has the closure he needs

- her waiting out in the cold for him was so wholesome 

- when hiyori wrapped the scarf around yuta my heartttt ahhhh

- red scarves are the epitome of romance (look at eren and mikasa) 

- him helping her with her coat while she takes his scarf off without either of them saying anything like its the most natural thing in the world 😌

- making sure he gets his favorite food in the bento cuz she knows he’s probably gonna be hungry

- him eating the sour plum thing for her and her moving the bento so his favorite food is in front of him is just so mfing cute

- maki and the others thinking hiyori is crazy for specifically requesting cabbage salad in her dinner even tho hiyori doesnt even like cabbage salad 

- she doesnt even like cabbage salad and yet she asks for it just cuz she knows yuta likes it (the amount of serotonin i get from these two is just ✨)

Summary 

- i think that hiyori and yuta are both stuck in the past to varying degrees

- it’s p obvious especially from “It May Be the Last” and “Under the Surface” that 

- the difference between yuta and hiyori is that they handle what happened to them in different ways like yuta ended up isolating himself and becoming depressed while hiyori continues on with her life and tries to do better 

- she strives to do better, to get stronger, so it won’t happen again and bottles up her emotions so they dont get in the way of that while yuta doesn’t bottle his emotions up

- its obvious that she’s improving and doing it less thanks to yuta, maki, and the others as seen mainly in “Rika’s Love” and “Jars”

- i hope they can learn from each other and move on from their traumatic pasts together 

- they both have a lot to unpack until they’re finally free of the past but they’re helping each other with it even if they themselves don’t know it 

- the fact that they’re both unintentionally/unknowingly helping each other thru tough times and dealing with their pasts is what makes their relationship so likeable

- ik i talk about liking hiyori a lot and that’s just because she’s a likeable OC. she’s not the type that needs saving from anyone and she’s independent

-she’s strong and knows she is 

- i just like strong female characters 

- she’s not dumb like a lot of other OCs/reader-inserts (i get that having a dumb oc/reader-insert is supposed to make them relatable but it just gets rlly annoying sometimes cuz it’s just one bad decision after another)

- it’s not like she’s perfect either tho

- it’s shown that she still has moments where she fails (and boy does she fail like she literally almost died cuz of it) and she’s flawed but her flaws enhance her character rather than make her hateable. 

- another big reason is that hiyori is nice and basically a ray of sunshine unlike most OCs/reader-inserts who act cool/cold (tsunderes and kuuderes). 

- she doesn’t try to act cold towards other ppl or try to push them away like what most OCs/reader-inserts do either 

- she’s not toxic

- there’s no her trying to deny her feelings for yuta or anything. 

- she just accepts it. 

- she doesn’t cry in front of everyone but she DOES cry in front of those closes to her. she has breakdowns and she cries which makes her human. 

- sorry now im just going on a tangent but yea i rlly like hiyori’s character and props to the author for doing out-of-the-box wild stuff 

[shyneanon]

And the fic I started about a week ago with a MF one-shot continues! It’s now called The Boss’s Daughter and it’s up on AO3. 

I’ll continue to post it here but you can go to AO3 to subscribe or kudos or comment or whatever you’d like. It also just might be easier for people to read the whole thing there, since these chapters are long and the whole work will be in one place. Anyway, enjoy!

---

Your father was an unforgiving man.

As kind as he was to you and your mother, when he went to work, he became a different person. He did not tolerate failure, he did not tolerate deceit, and he did not tolerate disrespect. It was no wonder that he had become one of the richest and most powerful mob bosses in the city. People feared him.

And thus, they feared you.

He called you Princess for a reason. You were very much his princess. And there was no mobster in the city who didn’t know the consequences of making a wrong move around you. If he saw a man as a threat against his daughter-- whether physically, emotionally, or otherwise-- that man was as good as dead. And your father’s definition of a threat was a bit loose. He was a very jealous man. Every gangster knew that.

Well, Sans hadn’t, until Papyrus had gone on a tirade about it at him.

Truth be told, it hadn’t really scared Sans much at all. It was difficult to scare him-- though whether that was because he was tough or stupid, he wasn’t sure. Though it did make him view your encounter through a new lens. When he’d spoken with you, he’d had no idea you were such… forbidden fruit.

Unfortunately for Papyrus, whose… suggestion… was reasonable, telling Sans that you were a literal danger to him had only made you more desirable to him. It was that thrill that causes even the best of people to date partners who are bad for them: The feeling of playing with fire, of doing something despite knowing it was bad for you. You were so pretty, and you had been so much fun, but if he’d known all of this before, the spark of electricity he’d felt at being close to you would’ve felt like a thousand-volt shock. To think that he had held someone virtually unattainable-- had gone so far as to kiss your neck and the corner of your lips-- and come out of it alive?

Hell, now he just wanted to do it again.

Since he had nothing better to do with his time (well, he did, he just liked not doing what he was supposed to be doing), he’d eventually asked some of his men how much anyone even knew about you, if you were so heavily protected. Surprisingly, quite a bit, because your father liked to talk about you a lot. According to him, you were very intelligent. That didn’t surprise Sans at all, it had been pretty obvious. Well, sort of. It had been this look behind your eyes. Like you were always observing things, assessing them. No doubt you were unused to being hit on and yet you had remained cool and collected.

Heh. Maybe you’d make for a good mob boss yourself.

Your father even claimed that you helped with the business sometimes. The record-keeping and number-crunching, anyway. He didn’t like telling you exactly what your beloved daddy was doing during business hours.

It was funny how many small details had stuck with Sans’ men (and probably many others). You were just such an enigma that any information your father threw out was like a piece of a very large puzzle. You liked dancing, although you’d never actually been out dancing before. Papa was too worried about boys hitting on you. You did go out sometimes, with some friend of yours, but only during the day, and only to high-end spaces where the chances of a guy trying to put moves on you were low. An odd detail: You liked little chocolates, particularly the ones with cherry filling. Sans could vividly picture you gently biting into one, the filling as red as those soft lips. Dangerous lips that spelled death for anyone who dared to come near them.

You were just so off-limits that all you did was rile Sans up when he thought about you.

His mind raced with What ifs. What if he had just taken the opportunity to kiss you right there? What if you had agreed to his offer to show you how he could get around without being seen? What if he had been able to bring you somewhere private… and take away that innocence your father had worked so painstakingly hard to preserve?

Heheh. You would’ve been calling out “Daddy,” but you wouldn’t have meant--

“I heard that guy Acerbi is after her.”

“Acerbi? Don Acerbi?”

“No, you idiot, his son.”

Sans was snapped out of his incredibly racy daydream. “Huh? Who?”

Vinnie answered his question. “Adolfo Acerbi, Boss. The Acerbi family’s territory is right around--”

“I don’t care about that, whaddaya mean he’s after her?”

Don answered that. “Y’know, he wants to marry her. She’s an only child, so if he married ‘er, once her dad croaked he’d end up being the heir to their whole business.”

“Fuck, you serious?”

“Yeah. And for now it’d unite the families ‘n such. All that mafia stuff.”

Sans felt a surge of jealousy, even though he knew it was unwarranted. You didn’t belong to him-- well, you didn’t belong to anyone, you were your own person, even if your father wanted you to be his. Still, Sans wasn’t your boyfriend, he had no real right to feel jealous over you. Especially not the level of jealousy he was feeling right now.

But the objective truth couldn’t change the way he felt.

“Hey, Boss,” said Vinnie. “Didn’tcha say you were gonna talk with someone today?”

He was startled out of his thoughts again and checked his watch. “Oh, shit.” He got up. At least he wouldn’t be late. “Thanks, Vinnie.”

“Oh, uh, no problem, Boss.”

--

“Was he nice?” asked Mindy.

“Of course,” you told her. “He was in front of my dad.”

The two of you were sitting in a small but very expensive cafe and deli, immaculately clean and filled with people in nice dress. It was always nice to be with her, for a multitude of reasons. Firstly, she was your friend. You simply enjoyed her company.

Secondly, the cat monster was your window to the outside world.

While she was wealthy-- most monsters were after having left the Underground-- Mindy didn’t know where your father actually got his money. She was a civilian. Unlike you, she’d gone to college, and she’d been on dates with lots of boys. Ironically, despite being a monster, she knew a certain kind of freedom you’d never known. Mindy actually got around quite a bit, though you didn’t mind that. It was part of what made her interesting. She was wild, so she had a lot of fun stories.

At the moment, though, you were the one telling her a story, about the “nice young man” you’d met at the party. Adolfo Acerbi. Italian, obviously. Your parents had taken quite a liking to him, and you could understand why: He seemed well-educated, he was polite, and he had only said the sweetest of things to you.

You hated him already.

It was all fake. You could tell. He did a good job of hiding it from your parents but it was fairly obvious to you what was going on. You had no brothers. If he could just weasel his way into your father’s favor and wed you, then he could sit atop an empire made of two families’ blood, greed and arrogance. And you would be stuck right there with him. It was a no from you, but unlike Mindy, you didn’t really have any say in the matter. Mafia princesses were called princesses for a reason.

But you couldn’t tell Mindy all of that. She didn’t know where your family got their money. So all you said was, “He just wants my dad’s money.”

“Aw, honey, maybe you’re just being paranoid.” Mindy smiled at you. “Love exists, you know.”

You snorted. “I know that. It’s just… he’s sweet, but… too sweet? Too romantic.”

“Mmm, like he rehearsed it or something?”

“Yeah.”

“Ugh, those boys are the worst.” She shrugged. “Oh well. You don’t have to date him if you don’t want to.”

If only.

You considered telling her about the encounter with Sans and Papyrus-- she’d be bound to find it entertaining-- but you had the feeling that if you did she would just keep teasing you about Sans. Besides, she didn’t need to know anything about mobsters who didn’t really have anything to do with you. Your father didn’t do business with the skeleton brothers, as far as you knew, and chances were you would never speak with them again. Sans wasn’t worth mentioning.

But fate is a cruel mistress, and no sooner had you dismissed any thoughts of Sans than a large shape emerged in your periphery. Near the doorway. The shape was unmistakable.

Sans had been fun. Too fun. As much as you wanted someone in the underbelly of society to make you smile, you didn’t need it. If you had fun, you would forget just how bad your world was, and you would quit wanting to leave. You didn’t need to speak to him any more.

“What are you doing?” asked Mindy.

You realized you had ducked down and held up your menu in hopes of hiding your face. You wanted to relax, but you really didn’t need to talk to him anymore. “Nothing,” you said, though you knew she wouldn’t believe you.

“Oh my God, is it him?” She started to look around unabashedly.

“N-- no, it’s not Acerbi.”

“Not Acerbi-- Wait, is there somebody else? Is that why you don’t like Acerbi?” Her lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Oooooh, there’s a boy you haven’t told me about.”

“No, it’s not like that!” you said. But you couldn’t explain, it had everything to do with your world, and she couldn’t know about your world.

“Oh my, are you blushing?”

“What? No.” Your face didn’t even feel warm.

“Don’t lie to me, I can see it. Your face is so red.”

Well, now your face was warm. Mindy beamed. Thanks a lot, Mindy.

“Hey there, dollface. Fancy seein’ you here.”

… Fuck.

You lowered the menu. You didn’t have to look for him; Sans’ shape on your left blocked out everything else nearby. You tried to ignore the burning on your face and smiled politely. “Hello, Mr. Sans.”

“Hey, sweetheart, I toldja last night, ya can call me Sans.”

You saw Mindy’s eyes widen. Last night, no she’s getting the wrong impression, no no Mindy it’s not like that I didn’t have sex with him I didn’t I don’t even know how we would do that I just met him at a party--

You forced your mind to stop racing. “Right. Sans. Is there anything you need?”

“Just to talk to you, doll.” He winked. His smile was so genuine, so goofy despite the sharp teeth. You felt the corners of your mouth turning up and bit the insides of your cheeks to keep yourself from smiling any more. You’re just making this worse, jackass….

His voice lowered:

“What’s with the red face? Happy to see me?”

You tried to ignore your face getting hotter. “M… My friend here was embarrassing me about something.” Good, a distraction. You gestured to Mindy. “Um, Sans, this is my good friend Mindy. Mindy, this is Sans, my… um…”

Sans raised a brow. “Aww. Tellin’ me we ain’t friends?”

Oh my God, did he learn anything from last night?

“... friend,” you finished. “My friend, Sans.”

Mindy wasn’t buying it even though it was the truth. “Oh, of course. Your friend.” She wiggled her eyebrows. Still, she gave Sans a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, sweetheart.” His grin widened. “You look like the cat’s pajamas.” A wink. “Absolutely purrfect.”

Before you could stop yourself, you snorted, which only made Sans look more enthusiastic. You tried to hide your face again.

Mindy raised her eyebrows at him. “Oh my, aren’t you a charmer?”

He tipped the brim of his hat. “Sure, to the women I want.” His eyelights looked over at you and he winked.

You glared at him, openly this time. You are such a moron. You could literally die. For doing this. You couldn’t defend him forever.

His smile became slightly nervous. Finally, he was getting the message. Why did he have to be so thick? And funny?

“So,” said Mindy, “why are you here? You’re not stalking my friend, are you? Stalking isn’t romantic, you know.”

He chuckled. “Nah. I can’t actually talk fer too long, I’m here tah meet a, uh… business associate.”

Mindy smiled incredulously. “Business associate? What are you, part of the mob?”

You forced yourself to snicker at that, as if the idea was ridiculous. Sans blinked, looking mildly surprised-- he’d probably expected Mindy to know. Thankfully, he recovered quickly. “I wish. It’d be more exciting.” He turned back to you. “I also wanted to give you an offer.”

He nodded in the direction of the doorway and you squinted at him. You weren’t going to leave with him. Was he that stupid?

“I jus’ wanna talk over there.”

You raised an eyebrow, and felt your thumb fiddling with your menu. You didn’t need to speak with him… but you were curious. So you got up and followed him, still inside, by the door.

He dug around in his pocket. “Last night was nice.”

“Which part?” you asked coldly.

“All of it, babe, yer fun to talk to.” He pulled out his wallet and started going through it. “I was thinkin’ I’d like to talk to ya again, if ya ever want.”

He found what he was looking for and held up what was clearly a fake business card for whatever civilian job he claimed to have. He held it out to you.

“If ya ever need anythin’... like, y’know, company… jus’ give me or Paps a call, huh?” He shrugged. “Well, maybe not Paps. But me.” He flashed those shark-like teeth at you.

You just stared. What on Earth was his problem? He could easily go flirt with someone whose father wouldn’t have him shot for it.

“C’mon, babe, you were fun. I don’t meet a lotta fun people.” He held it out further. “Please?”

His pleading smile was seemed so genuine.

Whatever. You smiled politely, taking the card. “Thanks. I’ll keep your offer in mind.”

Judging from the look on his face, he could tell you didn’t mean it. He seemed… disappointed.

You felt disappointed too. Good.

He tipped the brim of his hat again. “Anyway, I’ll let you two ladies keep talking. It was nice seein’ you again.”

“Nice seeing you,” you said.

When you made your way back to the table and sat down, Mindy folded her arms. “So. Mister Sans, huh?”

“It’s not like that,” you said.

“‘Sure, to the women I want,’” she said, doing her best impression of Sans’ deep, smooth voice. She then raised her eyebrows at you as if daring you to offer an explanation.

“We met at the same party where I met Adolfo,” you said. “He flirted with me, and I turned him down.” You left out the part where you let him hold you and… kiss you. The spot at the corner of your lip that he’d kissed suddenly felt tingly. It had probably been the most rebellious thing you’d ever done, despite how much you hated the lifestyle you’d been born into.

“You what?” Mindy said, almost slamming her hands down on the table in outrage. “Why?”

“Because I don’t like him. He’s probably the dumbest person I’ve ever met.”

“Ouch,” she said. “Harsh.”  She sighed in mock disappointment. “What a shame. His name is so short. Easy to moan.”

You felt a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. “Why don’t you just go sleep with him if you find him so appealing?”

“Nuh-uh. I smell a budding romance.” She made a sweeping gesture with her hand. “An intelligent girl, wooed by an unlikely man. I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

“That will never happen in a million--”

“Ooh, ooh, before I forget to tell you! Next weekend this… club I know…” She gave you a wink. You knew what that meant-- a speakeasy. “... is having a swing night. You told me you’ve never gone dancing before. We should go!”

You felt your heart sink, the previous conversation instantly forgotten. You shook your head. “My parents wouldn’t let me.” Too many boys.

“Then sneak out. Easy fix.”

“N… No.”

She sighed in exasperation. “Just ask, OK? Please?”

You nodded. “... OK.”

“Thank you.” She looked at the card in your hand. “What’s that?”

“Oh, just some stupid card he gave me with his number.” You turned it over in your hand.

“Mmmm, his number. You gonna keep it?”

“I already said I don’t like him, why would I keep his number?”

You grabbed your purse. Trying not to make eye contact with Mindy, you tilted the bag towards you so that she wouldn’t see the small pistol inside, and tucked the card into a pocket inside the purse. You tried to seem nonchalant about it, but when you looked at Mindy again she was wearing a massive, smug grin on her face.

“I’m going to throw it away when I get home,” you told her.

“Riiiight.” She took a sip of her water. “Of course.”

“I am,” you insisted. You just didn’t want to toss it anywhere. But you told yourself you were going to throw it away.

You didn’t.

[ganymedesclock]

I kinda wanna hear your thoughts on NiGHTS, if you don't mind me asking. I just really like your speculation/headcanon posts!

I have great affection and great frustration for NiGHTS, honestly.

There’s a lot to love about the series. It’s got exquisite visuals and a really cool concept. While the gameplay isn’t completely my cup of tea, I think it’s a novel innovation. The designs of Nights and Reala, their bond and conflict, are really interesting and Wizeman’s a pretty impressive chunk of cosmic horror. I even feel like some of the dislike of Owl in JoD was unwarranted; yes, he was made the face of the slightly clumsy tutorial mechanism but it’s hard for me to not care a little that Nights, who is privately lonely in ways they seem disinclined to admit to anyone, clearly has some mutual fondness for this fussy bird dad.

But I definitely feel like the games have their problems- and I’ll focus here mostly on JoD because I feel like NiD itself was a pretty minimalist piece flying more on emotion than deep lore and it was successful in that regard.

I feel like JoD in particular struggled to decide if this was a story about Nights and Reala or a story about Will and Helen, and while they could’ve made room for both, it would’ve required more integration than they pulled off, and it ultimately weakens both narratives. 

Nights never really meaningfully reaches a conclusion with Reala. They get angry enough to hurt him, feel bad about it, Reala goes on to take their new friends hostage, and Nights gets angry again and, seemingly, finishes Reala off, either personally, or indirectly because their attempt to kill Wizeman would affect Reala too. Even the nature of their sacrifice is hampered here because they don’t really sell us on what it is about Will and Helen that makes things so different. I take issue with the short-lived archie Nights’ comic’s invention about the “two perfect dreamers born once a century” but it at least explains all the hullabaloo about these specific people. I don’t mean that to be callous- but there has to be a reason Nights makes their stand here and now, even if it’s for internal reasons rather than Will and Helen, and we don’t get a sense of why that is.

Will and Helen themselves have the seeds of interesting or compelling problems, but they aren’t really brought home either. The conclusions they make don’t really feel of a piece with the nature of their issues. We don’t really find out what about Helen is ‘fragile’, and you have to read into things to see the contrast between Will’s lonely, ‘abandoned playground’-like second dream and the vibrant potential of his third dream, this fear that if you can’t grow up people will leave you behind in childhood.

JoD takes from its roots in NiD that it is good at evoking emotions. Many of the ‘major beat’ cutscenes land with really impressive intensity and evocative qualities! I can vividly call to mind Nights and Reala’s argument in Delight City or Reala circling Helen menacingly in Memory Forest. 

But I feel like the devil’s in the details. Frustratingly often for me, these vibrant splashes of story were followed up by, like... hey kids, it’s time to chase Octopaw around in circles again! This is in-universe and out a completely pointless exercise! Let’s save some Nightopians from Wizeman, never once examining or explaining what Wizeman wants with them!

I try not to gripe too hard on Wizeman’s inscrutability because he as a character at least resonates with it- that he’s only a handful of ominous details in the dark actually kind of works for his character and the jawdropping beauty of the Unconscious Space and Will and Helen’s respective leaps of faith into the sea of darkness is contrasted by a profound sense of unease. Why is this space simultaneously so real and unreal? If Nights lands on a real-world building at the end of the game, sure, they’re alive, but is that a good thing, if they’re inextricably connected to Wizeman and Wizeman seems to be clawing at the veil between dream and waking?

Again, this is not a frustration of I hate these games. It’s a frustration of, I really love these games, but they feel like a vivid concept padded into existence with inconsistent flesh where the most interesting workings of both worlds- the real world emotional problems, and the dream world’s politics and potential fate under Wizeman’s onslaught- struggle because they’re ramming into each other at cross purposes rather than intertwining and facilitating/shoring each other up. There is some unbelievably premium good shit in NiD and JoD both but the experience of those glorious moments is undercut with the disappointment of going straight from that, to, octopaw. Nights do you wanna talk to Owl about how you unhealthily use harassing this octopus as a way to run away from serious emotional talks? No?

All of this has been a big reason why I’m looking forwards to Balan Wonderworld eagerly, because, Balan Wonderworld seems to be doing the spirit of what NiGHTS was as a series, and directly answering some of the problems of JOD. The human-side dynamics are spiced up with the chapters each having their own stars-of-the-day, and we’re digging into more raw emotional territory than stage fright or a nebulous insecurity growing up- just the three released so far are dealing with unexpected catastrophe bringing ruin to months of hard work, an accident leading to medical problems and a sense of betrayal, and the ‘pettiest’ problem, interpersonal rejection, is easily the most heartbreaking because it showcases how little self-confidence that afflicted person had. 

Balan’s more mature position as a maestro and a hands-off sort of narrator figure while Leo and Emma take center stage means that I don’t mind as much when the kids get focus- in JoD, while Will and Helen were kids, Nights seemed like a teenager who was disconcertingly willing to throw themselves under the bus for friends they met yesterday and this wasn’t really framed as a bad thing. With Balan, I feel like even if Balan does at some point in the narrative sacrifice himself to advance Leo and Emma, it’d play to very different tropes- the removal of the magic feather or mentor, as a lesson you have to fly on your own.

(and, Balan is an integral part of the Wonderworld itself, and I have reason to suspect Lance would have a vested interest not fully ‘removing’ him even if they at some point separated him from Leo and Emma)

The kids themselves are also shored up in terms of intrigue. I’m really excited for square enix’s involvement, because they’ve produced a few stories that dig at emotions, and taking characters from the stock of, say, Neku and Shiki from World Ends With You, who Leo and Emma have passing resemblance to (a boy who lost a friend and became disillusioned and closed off, a girl who’s ebullient and sociable and more than a little insincere in it, hiding an insecure, lonely core) I think this is very promising.

That doesn’t mean I am abandoning all love for the NiGHTS series or that I think it’s garbage compared to Balan Wonderworld, especially since they have different themes and motifs and one isn’t even out yet, but I think that it’s interesting how, to my eye, the Wonderworld game seems like a sort of continuation or refinement upon JoD- that NiGHTS in some ways seems to be an inspiration bedrock for this new theater adventure.

Ultimately even if Balan Wonderworld is everything I hope for and more, there’s always going to be a place in my heart for NiGHTS, though. (I mean, hell, Nights themselves was an instrumental force in me figuring out my own relationship with gender.) 

(and, once the game DOES come out, I feel like I’m certainly not the only one who’s gonna want to write crossover fic.)

TL;DR I love the nightmare jesters from the absolute bottom of my heart but I just wish we had a little more plot to squeeze loose.

[slytherinliththorne]

Lith Thorne’s Profile

New Template by  @cursebreaker-lilith​​

~BASICS~

Name: Ailith Thorne Rosas.

Nicknames: Lith, Witchling.

Name Meaning: Idk man I don’t remember :b

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 16

Birthday: December 10

Zodiac: Sagittarius

Blood Status: Half-Blood

Sexuality: Biromantic asexual

Ethnicity/Nationality:  Mexican

~APPEARANCE~

Body:

Height: 1.65

Build: Slim

Eyes: Golden

Hair: White

Skin: White

Misc:  She has a rune in her chest product of her curse. A small scar in her forehead from when she was little and fell, it’s almost unnoticeable.

Material Items:

Clothing: Hogwarts uniform mostly. Lith has almost no fashion sense, so she resorts to comfy hoodies, plain shirts and jeans. She also owns a few stylish and girly clothes, but won't use them unless necessary.

Accesories: An amethyst earing in later years, a necklace with a feather of Talbott’s and a teeth of Jacob.

In their school bag: Her sketchbook, pens, pencils and chalks, a deck of cards, her wand, a woven bracelet,  her amethyst charm that becomes an earring in later years.

Reference:

Face claim: None

Voice claim: None

~PERSONALITY~

Traits:

Positive:

Lucky: For some reason, Lith has super good luck for the most trivial things, like managing to get a cauldron just before Potions class starts because she forgot hers. She assumes it must be the universe’s compensation for cursing her.

Resourceful: To any problem she encounters, from a forgotten homework to escaping death, she will always have a set of solutions already elaborated in her mind. They might not always work as she wants, but they certainly save her ass.

Intelligent: She is a nerd and an overachiever. She enjoys learning and hyperfixates on a lot of interesting subjects during the course of her life.

Neutral:

Introverted: While she can handle big groups, Lith gets stressed out quickly. She prefers being on her own or with a few friends.

Daydreamer: Lith’s head is always on the clouds, she has whole worlds inside, but never actually gets to express them, not that she minds. She also has a very vivid imagination.

Negative:

Insecure: She gains more confidence as she grows older, but she will always doubt her abilities and her own worth.

Workaholic: No matter what she does, she has to give her best. That causes many sleepless nights and some eyebags once in a while.

No emotional intelligence: When it comes to matters of the heart, she has no clue how to proceed. She finds it difficult to read the mood of a room or identify when someone is feeling down. In the same way that she has a hard time figuring out her own emotions and naming them.

Description:

Something something I’ll write it later

Other:

Likes: Solitude, art, books, muggle trinkets, sweets, winter.

Dislikes: Blood supremacy, loud places, summer, heat.

MBTI: INTP

Alignment: Neutral Good

~HOGWARTS~

Hogwarts House: Slytherin.

OWL CLASSES:

Astronomy: E

Charms: O

DADA: E

Flying: A

Herbology: A

History of Magic: O

Potions: A

Transfiguration: E

OWL ELECTIVES:

Care of Magical Creatures: A

Apparition: O

Divination: A

NEWT CLASSES:

Charms: O

Transfiguration: A

History of Magic: E

Extracurriculars:

Art

Muggle art

Best Classes:

Charms: Lith was taught charms by Jacob since he began Hogwarts when he noticed his sister had a particular proficiency with them, so when Lith arrived she was a bit ahead of her peers and continued to hone her skills on more advanced charms on her own.

History of Magic: Lith has always been a History nerd and History of Magic was a class she enjoyed and easily excelled in. Not much because of the Professor but Rowan and the study groups they would organize.

Worst Classes:

Flying: When in her human form, she is terrified of heights and hates flying.

Herbology: Lith and plants is something that is just not meant to be.

Favorite Professors:

Silvanus Kettleburn: He is eccentric, he is encouraging and he cares not about the world except for his beloved magical creatures. Lith admires his dedication and appreciates a non conventional teacher like him.

Patricia Rakepick: While Lith never fully trusted the curse breaker, she would be lying if she said that she did not enjoy Rakepick’s classes. She was probably the best professor of DADA she ever had.

Least Favorite Professors:

Severus Snape: Despite being her Head of House, Lith never liked Snape. He could mean well and she would be grateful for that but please be at a minimum distance of 6 feet apart. His attitude was the opposite of encouraging and she hated it.

Madam Hooch: She is scary :(( please don’t yell at her for not knowing how to fly she doesn’t need a broom anyway ;-;.

Affiliations/Organizations:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Slytherin House

The House of Thorne

Circle of Khanna

The Werewolf Support Squad (with Jae, Talbott, Chiara and Rowan)

The Silver Coven (with Summer Charn and Catherine Stark)

Professions:

Freelance curse breaker.

Independent Rescuer.

Part-time artist and painter.

~MAGIC~

1st Wand:

Willow wood

10

Surprisingly swishy

Unicorn hair core

“Willow is an uncommon wand wood with healing power, and I have noted that the ideal owner for a willow wand often has some (usually unwarranted) insecurity, however well they may try and hide it. While many confident customers insist on trying a willow wand (attracted by their handsome appearance and well-founded reputation for enabling advanced, non-verbal magic) my willow wands have consistently selected those of greatest potential, rather than those who feel they have little to learn. It has always been a proverb in my family that he who has furthest to travel will go fastest with willow.” (Pottermore.)

2nd Wand:

Macpalxochitl wood

113/4

Slightly Yielding

Huactli feather core

Disclaimer: this is my own lore.

Macpalxochitl, or the Devil’s Hand Tree, became a popular wood to make wands out of when the afrancesamiento of Mexico began. Old chroniclers would often refer to this tree as “worthy of any castle and palace”, so it was sought by wizards of high status. Nowadays it’s existence is very rare and only a few wandmakers are allowed to handle this tree. Wands of this wood tend to be stubborn, but they will remain loyal to their first owner. It is said that it’s better suited to healing magic, but that doesn’t mean it’s not able to turn to the Dark Arts.

The Huactli  is a strange eagle-like bird that feeds on snakes. Its peculiarity is that it’s is able to speak the language of men and predict their future. It is said that if you hear it laugh, it means good luck, but if it mutters sadly, it can translate in danger, sickness and death. Wands of this core make powerful spells, but are often unpredictable and difficult to tame. Their loyalty is easily gained and easily lost, though this may vary depending on the wood. 

Boggart 

Form: A big twisted grackle like humanoid with bright golden eyes.

Riddikulus: The grackle suddenly doing the chicken dance.

Amorentia

What they smell: Hot chocolate, books and oil painting (turpentine lmao).

What they smeel like to others: Mint, paint and parchment.

Patronus

Form: Jaguar (for Jacob), Eagle (after Talbott).

Memory: Family reunions on her Mother’s side of the family. All her cousins running around while the adults played cards.

What they see in the Mirror of Erised: Jacob and her, side by side, with the marks of their curse erased from their chests. As the years pass, more people are added into the picture behind them, like Chiara, Rowan, Talbott and Jae. After Rowan dies, their image takes Jacob’s place by Lith’s side.

~FAMILY~

Father: Daniel Thorne.Pureblood wizard.

Curly white hair (not due to the curse tho), white skin and golden eyes. Her dad is her greatest supporter, anything she wants to do he is right behind her cheering for her. He is a little bit eccentric but he loves to indulge his children's interests and spoil them. However, he is not available in the emotional department, he doesn’t know how to deal with those problems.

Mother:  Perla Rosas Villareal.

Muggle. Curly brown hair, brown skin and brown eyes. Her mom is strict but loving. Lith always seeks her for emotional support, she listens patiently and offers help only when asked. She is the one who makes her question things and they often get into arguments because of that.

Brother: Jacob Thorne Rosas

Half-blood wizard. The reason for all this mess. Curly silver hair, brown skin and golden eyes. An introverted and sweet guy, but very naive and trusting. The relationship between the Thorne siblings had always been good. Sure, they fought and argued, but they got along pretty well. After the Vaults, Lith became wary of her own brother, but when it all ended they began to reconstruct their relationship, though it will always be damaged.

Pets:

Onyx (Grackle): He is not exactly her pet, he is the other half of her soul aka her Companion.

Nox: A black cat that stayed back at home with her parents.

~FRIENDS~

Best friends:

Rowan Khanna

Chiara Lobosca

Jae Kim

Good friends:

Badeea Ali (they are art rivals but in a friendly way)

Charlie Weasley

Bill Weasley

Tulip Karasu

Friends:

Penny Haywood

Barnaby

Murphy

Andre

It’s Complicated:

Love Interests:

Talbott Winger (he is the only one I have a description for atm, the others are in another post if I remember correctly lol)

They met when Lith was trying to break her curse via the animagus potion, a thing that obviously didn’t work.

After the failure of the potion (of which Talbott is not aware), they began to notice they shared similar hiding spots, such as the Owlery, and started to acknowledge each other’s existence by simply saying hello.

Then Lith started to get closer again, asking him about the potion and being an animagus. He got suspicious and ended up discovering Chiara and Lith were trying to turn Jae into an animagus to accompany them during Chiara’s werewolf transformation.

He agreed to help them and became a member of the Werewolf Support Squad, a little bit against his will but he warmed up to them eventually.

They started to get close during those night escapades. They hung out more together (with the Squad) even after the full moons.  

Recovering Talbott’s necklace was the first time they got close one on one. It was also the moment they began to develop feelings for each other, even if they couldn’t name them yet.

They like being alone together, and started acting as a couple before they actually became one.

The moment Talbott realizes he has fallen for Lith is a morning after the full moon, when they are all in the Room of Requirement trying to get some sleep and the only thing he can look at is her.

For Lith it takes more time to realize her massive crush. It happened when Talbott fell asleep in the library while studying together. Tulip comes in and says something like “could you tell your boyfriend to wake up, Lith Thorne? We are having a House meeting soon.” Lith’s like “he is not my boyfriend tho??” and Tulip just answers “Really? Thought you were dating for months.” And leaves. That’s the moment when Lith looks at sleeping Talbott and omg he is cute and we certainly do look like a couple oh fuck.

Yet neither of them thinks the other is interested, so they continue like normal.

Until they stay behind in the Room of Requirement one time and they accidentally confess and bam guess they are a real couple now.

They graduate. Talbott gets his own place and works as an auror, Lith travels the world as a curse breaker. They meet sometimes and go on dates.

The year of Voldemort’s uprising, they have a fight and they both go their separate ways, though they never once mention breaking up.

They reunite in the Battle of Hogwarts, Talbott almost dies and they apologize to each other.

Lith moves in with Talbott after that and they marry and adopt two kittens.

Dormmates:

Merula Snyde

Ismelda Murk

Rowan Khanna

Doesn’t interact:

Merula Snyde

Ismelda Murk

Diego Caplan

Bea Haywood

Enemies:

Merula Snyde (formerly)

Patricia Rakepick

R

~STORY~

Childhood: 

Lith was born in a middle low class family in the Valley of Mexico, with a malediction in her blood. Her early childhood consisted of playing with the children in the same street and Jacob. Since insecurity was still not that high in the city, her mom would let them go out of the house on their own. They attended a public elementary school until Jacob received his letter. After that, Lith couldn’t bother with school anymore but was forced to attend. As she grew up, children started to distance themselves from her, all the neighbourhood thought it was suspicious that her brother had gone to a boarding school when they barely had the money to pay for all their expenses. It got worse when Jacob disappeared.

HOGWARTS:

1st Year: Befriends Rowan, Ben, Chiara and Penny. Makes enemies with Merula. Finds Ice Vault. The Werewolf Support Unit is formed by Chiara, Rowan and Lith.

2nd Year: Ben Cooper disappears. Befriends Bill Weasley. They enter another common room. They open the Ice Vault.

3rd Year: Befriends Tulip, Barnaby and Talbott. Tries the Animagus potion. Attempt to turn Jae into an animagus. The Werewolf Support Unit becomes the Werewolf Support Squad with new members Jae and Talbott. They open Fear Vault.

4th Year: Befriends Charlie Weasley. Patricia Rakepick arrives at Hogwarts. Sleepwalking curse. Open Forest Vault. Goes to the Celestial Ball with Rowan and on a “date” with Talbott.

5th Year: Befriends Jae Kim, Badeea Ali, Liz Tuttle and Diego Caplan. Detention in the kitchens. Beatrice Haywood is trapped in the portrait. Rakepick becomes the new DADA teacher. Lith realizes she has feelings for Talbott. They open the Portrait Vault.

6th Year: Ben goes dark. Lith and Talbott start to date. Rowan dies. Meets Ty Blackwood and finds out they are related. Circle of Khanna.

7th Year: Who tf knows?? :))

ADULTHOOD:

After graduation: Lith goes to become a cursebreaker, taking jobs others would not. She quickly gains a reputation among shady witches and wizards. She lives like this for a year, not having a stable place to stay and traveling from country to country carrying only her backpack. She grows tired of it and decides to drop it all. She goes back to Mexico and moves in with a few muggle roomies. She studies plastic arts at a university and graduates early. She goes back to England to return to her curse breaker activities when Voldemort comes back.

Order of the Phoenix / 2nd Wizarding War: Lith never joins the Order of the Phoenix. She becomes an independent Rescuer, working by herself or for third parties (the Order included) to rescue Undesirables and get them out of the country. She even crafter fake papers to get them out. She does get in contact with members of the Order sometimes, like Carewyn Cromwell, who is one of her main contacts within the Ministry. She fights in the Battle of Hogwarts and saves Talbott’s life after reuniting with him.

Post-War: She decides she has had enough adventures for a while and moves in with Talbott, who quits as an auror and becomes a poet. They get married in a small ceremony which basically was just signing the papers and getting dinner with friends afterwards. After Jacob dies and her nephew Icarus is left orphaned, she takes him in with Talbott and they all move in with Ty at his much bigger home. Lith returns to her curse breaking job to support the whole family, since she doesn’t want Ty to pay for all of their expenses. Charlie moves in too after dating Ty for a while, which was a surprise for all. And they all live together whoo.

Old Age & Death: After retiring definitely, Lith dedicates the rest of her life to art. She even sells some of her works. She paints until her hair starts to turn black and she grows feathers, she paints until her arms don’t obey her anymore. She dies on her bed, with her precious Companion resting on her chest, as they both merge together, accompanied by Talbott, Icarus and her loved ones.

MISC

When they were children, Jacob lost one of his fangs during a sudden transformation and a collision with the door. Lith keeps it as a necklace charm and gifted Jacob one of her own feathers. Because of this, she believes the first black quill is the one he carried as a necklace charm too.

Before they start dating, Lith gives Talbott one of her feathers, which he wears alongside her mother’s. Lith also wears one of his as a necklace, but when she grows older she turns it into an earring. This is one of the reasons why people believe they were already together.

Lith has a habit of drawing on her skin, which is why she sometimes has her legs covered in little doodles. She later starts drawing on her friends.

She hoards art supplies.

She is a gambling addict, so she will get intense during exploding snap games. She knows a lot of card games from her Mother’s side of the family, challenge her at your own risk.

She never learned how to drive.

She learned a bit of mexican magic from her cousins, who attended Aztlán (the mexican wizarding school) created by @tsikuri.

She definitely sings in the shower, but not during her Hogwarts years.

Her taste in music is broad, listening to almost anything except banda.

She has a sweet tooth and cannot stand spicy food, causing the teasing from her whole family, who all, as proud Mexicans, eat chili with everything.

After she graduates, her schedule shifts entirely. She wakes up at 2 pm and goes to sleep at 3 am.

Her love languages are physical touch, but she is too shy and hyper aware to actually approach people and touch them, and gifts.  

If you give her food, you will now be on her “Good human, Angel from Heaven :-:” list. 

Her wand core comes from a bird that can predict death and misfortune, this curiously can be linked to her manifestation of the curse.

Most people think her new wand is ugly, and she did too. But she had to carve it herself to obtain it from an old Mexican wandmaker. The form is also inspired in the flower from the wand wood tree.Lucky: For some reason, Lith has super good luck for the most trivial things, like managing to get a cauldron just before Potions class starts because she forgot hers. She assumes it must be the universe’s compensation for cursing her.

[startwithbrooklyn]

THE GREAT ND REWATCH OF 2021 / SEPTEMBER 9, 2019 // the velvet masque

this ep is sept 9 bc victoria bursts in the next day bc of the coins and thats the day they do the seancé which is the night of sept 10 (which they keep referencing at the asylum and w bashiir)

completely unwarranted this is my lil update for all who didnt know, dead lucy and alive lucy are played by 2 different people k thx bi 💙🙏🏻

-"way to be literal lucy" SHE IS BEING LITERAL THO LMFAOOOO

-"what do you do when the dead stop talking to you?" maybe shes busy bitch. shes got tons of hauntings scheduled and people attempting to seancé her and shit. u cant hog her all the time just cause she's ur mom

-"its a first date bess not a parliamentary hearing" this and the whole date scene is so cringe 😂

-"what do we know about the velvet masque" nancy uses the crew's collective pool of knowledge available/working together but still unwilling to trust others; nancy wants to get answers at any cost but answers don't mean friends. *maybe sometimes she needs the endorsement of others to move forward in certain times (ie "use me" to lisbeth after owens death)? idk feel free to debate that w me but nancy really takes advantage of having everyone help her for someone who says they work alone

-"i've been following him around"/"i've been studying every word looking for clues" nick is terrible at mysteries/snooping and has to go to nancy for help which nancy knows --> "we're here to steal the coins"/"you're gonna get kicked out" like when he talks about stalking owen shes laughing at him so much lmaooo but nancy is NOT book smart, she is street smart, and highly logical - she predicts human behavior scientifically, not socially

-"good cheekbones" owen lmfaoooooo

-so in the first ep nancy breaks into ryans house and this ep ryan breaks into hers right back 😂

-"take me to the velvet masque" so now ryan takes lucy and nancy, but he hesitates for nancy after what happened to lucy --> trying to stop her going in and then lucy appearing trying to warn nancy about ryan/the "bad thing" (celia) but lucy still kinda blames ryan for that one

-HOW does bess manage to make a white t-shirt and jeans look sooooooo good

-"so go help that person!" GEORGE lmfaooo

-"are we good?" ohhhh nancy. read the room sweetie. (she cant i know she cant)

-wonder if this poor guy w the chocolates sees nick and george across from him and thinks of himself and victoria lmaoooo

-"he must not know the whole story" ryan is always kept in the dark about everything, all the time which is ironic af bc nancy is always after knowledge at any price

-interesting that ryan only really "sees" lucy fully (at first) in nancys house

-ryan's foreshadowing: "if anything happens to you, you're not my responsibility" / "everett should have thought of that before he kicked me out of the family" / "your father is trying to teach you a lesson" by everett rejecting lucy and therefore nancy, ryan's little family was kicked out 20 years ago and ryan now completes the circle (this goes w his "steering ship" comments from the dinner ep)

-so honestly, how are the crew standing out so badly at this event?? its fucking dark and most people wear masks. is it that bloodhound rich nose that can smell a fake chanel a mile away? curious.

-owen + nancy / shades of blue (destined to be melancholy)

-sooooo nancy and owen's age difference. owen was 5 in 1999 and nancy was born in 2000 soooo hes only 5ish years older than her. so 19 and 26. (for reference ryan was 17/18 in 1999 and is now 37/38, and tiffany was 28 as laura said, and george is equal to nancy.) 🤷🏼‍♀️i honestly kinda love owen/nancy fight me on it.

-"please tell me you're not here to steal the coins" foreshdowing s2 "i have been trying to warn you all day"

-lucy was a creative writing hoe, we would've vibed so hard tbh

-BESS your gay ass just tanked the mission 😂

-"Luce?" 🥺😔

-damn lucy can't decide if she likes him or hates him 😂

-UNPOPULAR OPINION: "i had this one good thing in my life and i ruined it" i think men genuinely feel like this a LOT. living in the past, bringing it w them to the present, thinking they only had it good way back when. something about never reclaiming former glory/kinda tox masc but a lot of emotion in it too. like goodness in the present is unattainable. i mean ryan is like 38 so that midlife crisis tho? 😕

-"...carson drew." ryan and nancy almost share their looks of despair as they realize that carson is involved / makes me think of s2 ending when nancy says ryan "could use a dad" or something

-"looks like i missed some things" as always nancy lmfaoooo like. "what we were looking for?" no sis. no honey. not at fucking all. 🤦🏼‍♀️

-either owen fell in love with nancy at first sight or he pounced on her real quick at that gala bc damn 👀

-bess and lisbeth are the cutest 😭💙🙈

and lastly

-"my heart belongs to a certain mechanic with very good cheekbones" honestly sis why would you say it like that?? that word choice and phrasing leaves me all off. like what a combination tease to owen and backhanded compliment to nick all in one

[weraceasone]

Hi Elle (and anyone who reads this)!

This is going to be a long ask/rant so get your snacks and drinks ready (sorry in advance)

What does it mean to be a “real man” or how does one act like a real men? I’m really confused. Yesterday I tweeted that I love seeing the new generation of F1 drivers being friends and complementing each other and even hang out together outside of racing. All of a sudden I get a couple of tweets of people being mad about what I said: “they should act like real mean instead of showing their soft side everytime.”

So I asked one of them on Twitter: what do you mean by they should act like a real man? To this question I got a lot of ignorant answers like: They should man up, stop being shy, handle criticism like a man and stop crying about negative comments. (PS: What’s wrong with being shy?)

I’m half Dutch (hallo daar!) and I know that in our culture we can be very straight forward and honest (maybe too honest). We can also be very critical but what’s wrong with showing your REAL emotions when a comment hurts you? F1 drivers have a lot of pressure like we all know and of course it’s a hard world (bla bla bla) but that not an excuse to kick them when they’re down.

Seeing drivers being disappointed or even sad about their race or the comments people make on the internet does not make them less of a man (whatever that means). I mean how would you feel if almost everyone on social media is clowning you or laughing at your results? Ignore it?? St some point it’s impossible to ignore it when it’s presented right in front of your face. We put way too much pressure on these boys. At the end of the day they are human beings with real feelings.

When I see people hate on a certain driver it makes me so sad. You can be critical, nothing wrong with that, but let it be constructive criticism, something they can use to better their driving skills. But things like “you suck as a driver” “you don’t deserve to be in F1” is in my opinion mean. Look how people treat pay drivers. I think it’s disgusting how they talk about them.

I really hope that in the near future the F1 community will talk more about this topic and mental health since FIA wont do shit about it. It’s very important because the way some of us are ralking about these drivers can cause some serious damage to their mental health. Isometimes have to check myself when I talk negative about a driver.

Speaking on mental health actually applies to any sport and not just F1.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. This was weighing on my heart and I had to vent about it lol. I know this is all over the place but I hope that you and anyone who is reading this will get what I mean and I'm very curious what you think about this.

Ik wens je alvast een gezond 2021! ✨

hey Anon!

you know… lots of men have been angry with me on the internet before. one time somebody screenshotted a post of mine that pointed out the differences between people on Twitter reacting to Kimi’s radio messages and people on Twitter reacting to Lewis’ radio messages, and that person put it on Twitter without my permission and without my context. I had to read through hundreds of tweets calling me all sorts of degrading words and everything they insulted me with somehow always came back to me being a girl. it was the core of every insult they wrote. and you know, it’s funny until it isn’t. it’s funny until I decide; “this is going too far, and this is where I draw the line”. yet, I told myself to be thankful because it is nothing like it could be. I am thankful because they don’t actually know who I am, or where I live. I am thankful because I guess those men are good men, after all. they are good men because even though they said all those things, I know they will not act on it. they are good men because even though they just dehumanized me for being a girl with an opinion, they will still kiss their unknowing wives goodnight and they care for their daughters in a way they one day didn’t even believe was possible themselves.

when a driver shows even a sliver of emotion it’s “girly” or “he’s acting like a woman”, because apparently there’s nothing worse than being a girl. I remember Ziggo Sport making fun of Lando’s laugh because “he sounds like a girl”. however, the comparison with a woman is never made in a positive way, because being a woman is a pitiful state of being for these people. yet the phrases “be a man” and “grow a pair” will always refer to a state that we should aspire to be in.

and when I dare to write about it; I am the eternal man-hater. I am a man-hater, because pointing something out and the only conclusion being sexism, is my fault. it is my fault that writing about women in motorsport will somehow always end up on the topic of sexism. it is my fault that not writing about it, is somehow still writing about it. but the truth is; I don’t blame these men for the things they were told, I blame them for not looking beyond that. I blame them because I know the things they say on the internet will somehow always find a way to translate back to real life and I already feel sorry for the kids who will get their dad a tie or shaving cream or a fishing kit for father’s day, for Christmas, for every single birthday, because they never made a true emotional connection with him, because that’s stupid and unnecessary. I blame them because they don’t realize that the things they write, the thoughts they share; do have an impact on the people around them. I blame them because ever since I have gotten into this sport, there’s always a voice in the back of my head telling me that I don’t know enough, that my opinions aren’t good enough, because I’m a girl and I’m a girl and I’m a girl.

being an F1 driver isn’t easy, especially in this day and age where you don’t just have to deal with the pressure of being and staying in the team, but also with the unwarranted for opinions from people all over the internet, who think showing emotion is synonymous with being weak. but, at the end of the day; why do we watch this sport? would we still watch if it weren’t for the joy we get out of it? where would we be as fans, if we didn’t hope for the best? why are we only allowed to talk about the happy emotions?

the things we say on the internet, the thoughts we put out there; they always find a way to plant certain thoughts into our minds. and I’m not asking for anybody’s sympathy, because I can care for myself. I can braid my hair and neatly fold my clothes and I let myself sing off-tune and I let myself have an opinion on this sport, regardless of those men on the internet. but the thing is; the way we are online, is a reflection of the real world. if there’s never a man who dares to talk about his feelings; I will keep crying at videos of men doing nice things and your daughters will too. we will see a man quitting his job to be with his kids, a man speaking out about feminism, a man cooking dinner for his family and we will all keep on saying “you know, he doesn’t have to. he doesn’t have to”. because somehow, they never have to.

(I’m sorry this basically turned into a rant, Anon. this is also the longest answer I have ever written. it was a whole page long in Word. ik wens jou ook een gezond 2021, en allemaal fijne en leuke dingen🧡)

[cyb-by-lang]

Phone a Friend

A drabble based in that one OSF AU called All The Little Children. You know, that huge one-shot where all the Tailed Beasts are the size of cats and also the ASL bros are kids. This is the start of Side B, like on a record. At least it’s not broken.

With all the chaos that the kids got up to last time, I figured there was still a bit of space to insert yet more shenanigans.

I’m also thinking of having the Kiddie Crew have their own series of drabbles and one-shots, but we’ll see how that works out~

“I wanted to ask you something,” Ace said one day, in Kei’s clearing with his pipe slung across his back and his arms crossed, more defensive than trying to start a fight. 

The turtle-toting woman still wasn’t in Fū’s good books, but Naruto and Gaara loved her. Luffy would latch onto anyone who lived on Mt. Colubo for long enough and wasn’t cruel to his brothers, so his judgment was definitely in question. Especially when food-based bribes were so close at hand all the time. Sabo was more cautious, but it’d been a whole month without unwarranted punches to the head from an adult and he’d started to drop his guard. He wasn’t as wary as Ace was, ever, but he was closer. 

Ace wasn’t sure what he thought. The first adult to brush off his concerns about being Roger’s son was still a bit of a mystery, even now, but not so much that Ace couldn’t come up here alone while the others kept Luffy distracted. With that bloodthirsty first impression well out of the way, and the second one knocked out of reality by someone who could take Gramps’s punches, that just left this awkward, intermittent caretaker. 

“Okay,” said Kei, up to her elbows in what’s going to be their group’s dinner tonight. Under the work table, Isobu lurked like a grumpy footstool. “Do you mind if I keep working?” 

According to Naruto, the vaunted Kei didn’t spend much of her time dressing wild game before arriving on Dawn Island. The huge alligator lying in fifteen pieces all around the clearing would beg to differ, probably. Sabo even made a deal with her a while back for all the pelts and skins of the beasts everyone hunted, just because it never seemed like she had any use for them. The ASL brothers got money and fed, and Kei got…to not deal with animal skins? 

It was probably a win-win situation, somehow. 

“Go ahead,” said Ace, and just made sure he was outside of the potential splash zone. “You might wanna keep chopping anyway. Fū promised to keep Luffy running around all day. You know how they are.” 

“I’ll take your word for that, then.” She slammed her cleaver down on the stump she’d been using as a knife block. “Go ahead and ask whatever you need to ask, Ace.” 

“That thing you did with Bluejam and Sabo’s dad.” Ace paused as Kei’s swings slowed for a moment, watching her reaction with ice rolling down his spine. Then, as the tempo of butchering returned to normal, he said, “I want to learn how to do it.” 

Kei scooped the hash she’d made out of alligator tail into a waiting bucket with the flat of the cleaver. Then she said, “I’m not sure you can.” 

“What?” The flat, unfeeling tone to her voice set Ace’s temper flaring, just like it always did. It was the same tone shitty adults used when they said things they thought were true, and that kids didn’t need to know about. 

“I’m also not exactly sure what you’re talking about,” she added, tilting her head curiously at him. She rubbed idly at her face with the heel of one hand, then grimaced at the blood streak left across her cheek. She looked like a murderer, except for the confused tilt of her head. “Sorry, are you talking about the fighting part or…?”

“I meant the thing you did to make everyone afraid of you!” Ace bit out, desperation getting the better of his self-control. His fists clenched, though he didn’t go for his pipe. 

In some ways, Kei’s patient listening face was worse than being laughed at. Even if no one saw what happened in Gray Terminal, Bluejam disappeared. Sabo’s shitty dad never bothered them again. Ace knew this woman was strong enough to protect his brothers when he wasn’t. The difference between their strengths stuck in him like a thorn in his sandal. Nothing helped him dig it out, no matter how hard he trained or how many people he fought. 

Ace snapped into a bow, though maybe not as good as the one Makino tried to teach him. “Please tell me how to do that.” 

Thunk. Thunk. Then there was a sound like a flag flapping, but heavier, as Kei tossed the alligator skin over the drying rack. 

“You don’t need to bow to me,�� Kei said, already making her way to the pump on the side of her little cabin.

“It is an interesting thing to ask us,” said Isobu, dragging himself out and into Ace’s eyeline. “Sit down.”

Ace did so, because he’d been doused by Isobu’s weird water gun mouth about fifteen times by now, and the sixteenth was not the charm. While the turtle-thing stared him down with his single unblinking eye, Ace fidgeted a little. Sat with his legs under him and listened to the sound of the pump working, nervous but not like actually afraid. Not like with Gramps. 

“Killing intent is what it sounds like,” Isobu explained, tucking his leg-arms under his belly. “It is not precisely a skill, but instead a matter of the sheer will to do harm to people.”

“Kinda figured that from the name,” Ace said, in a slightly sullen mutter. 

“It is self-explanatory,” Isobu agreed, curling his tails as well, “but for that reason, I do not know if you have the capacity for it.”

At this point, Kei returned while flicking water from her hands. She sat in the grass across from Ace, just far enough away and with her legs crossed, so that Ace’s nerves settled a little. Though he wasn’t sure how, she always tried to do little things like that to help Ace and Sabo feel a little safer around her. Sure, they both knew she was faster and stronger than anybody else on the island, but not showing it off was a sign she at least cared about their impressions of her.

It only helped so much, but it was noticeable. 

“Like Isobu was saying, killing intent is…not really something I thought you’d want to learn,” Kei said, scrutinizing him with her eyes barely peeking out past her bangs. “What brought this on?”  

“I’ve fought a lot of people before,” Ace said, staring back as steadily as he could, “but I couldn’t do anything against Bluejam. None of us could do anything until Gaara and Fū showed up to save us.” He gripped his knees hard enough for his knuckles to go white. “I need to get stronger.” 

“Does that remind you of anyone you know, Kei?” Isobu’s voice asked, but when Ace looked up in surprise, the turtle pointed firmly at Kei with his left tail. 

“Only everyone,” Kei sighed. She rested her chin on her hand, elbow on knee, and finally said, “As violent as you and your brothers can be, Ace, I don’t know if killing intent is ever going to be your thing.” 

Ace wasn’t sure whether that was a compliment or an insult. “Why’s that?”

Kei glanced at Isobu. Ace did, too, and the little turtle wiggled his tails. “I don’t know you that well, but I do know you’d do anything to protect your brothers. That sound right?”

Ace nodded firmly. “Duh.”

“So would I.” That gave Ace pause. Kei had brothers? Since when? “But I was younger than you when I decided that anybody who hurt Hayate would die. I’ve had a long time to just…” She waved a hand as though searching for a word. “To just hone that feeling. It’s not a healthy state of mind, carrying murder around like that. Isobu makes it worse.” 

Isobu’s tails wiggled like seaweed in a current. “I would argue—”

“No.”

“But—”

“We’re already bad influences. Don’t push it.” Kei stared at Isobu until the little monster rolled his eye and subsided with a grumble. She then turned her attention back to Ace. “It’s not just about wanting to kill someone. It’s… I hate to make moral judgments like this, but it takes at least a little evil to get the raw power for it. When you’re using killing intent, any ideas about the value of life just don’t exist. ” 

Ace opened his mouth to protest. He’d wanted Bluejam dead. He’d been out killing wild animals since he could walk away from the Dadan pirates and explore the island. He fought everything, stole, and lied and cheated and—and he was Roger’s— 

“You’re not evil, Ace,” Kei said sharply, cutting across his thoughts like one of her swords. She peered at his expression with too-knowing eyes, folding her arms over her chest. “You’re a kid with issues, but you’re nowhere near as bad as you think you are. That’s why I don’t think you can fuel an attack like that through sheer malice.” 

“Like you said, you don’t know me that well.” Ace glared down at his knees.

Kei made a noise that sounded like agreement, but with strings attached. “Tell you what—there’s probably a better route, and it might be something your brothers can learn with you.” When Ace looked up in surprise, Kei went on, “It’s called haki. It’s a power that’s rare before you get to the later parts of the Grand Line, but it’ll save your life.” 

Ace stared at her. “I thought Naruto said his thing was called ‘chakra.’”

“His is, but he was born with the potential to use that. Haki can be learned by anyone.” Kei’s eyes rolled skyward for a second as she thought that over. “Mostly. Keep in mind that I don’t use haki, but I’ve known people who do. Their lessons may still help you.” 

Isobu swatted Kei’s leg with one of his tails. “I was also listening, thank you.”

She paused for another one of her awkward stretches, staring her little monster friend down. Ace was never sure what went through Kei’s head when she zoned out, but all of the kids Ace knew had tried attacking her during those silences just to see how she’d react. Mostly, she snapped out of it instantly and sent people flying over her shoulder or straight into the dirt. 

The second one was mostly for the FNG gang. She was gentler with Ace and his brothers, as weird as that was. 

Kei said at last, “I can teach you what I know. My first true demonstration was when a guy kicked me through an island, so I’m sure it’ll help you punch above your weight class.” 

It wasn’t what Ace asked for. Even so, the idea of being able to knock someone like Kei around was a tempting one. If Gramps had trouble getting Kei out of his face when he showed up to visit, then Ace aimed to be even stronger. Chasing One Piece demanded no less. 

“If you want to stick around and help me prepare all this, I’ll try explaining as we go,” Kei offered. 

There was still an awful lot of alligator lying around. For some reason, Kei almost always turned this kind of meat into tiny stew cubes and cooked it with vegetables instead of just letting the kids eat everything immediately. When Ace wondered about it aloud, Sabo said something about “food poisoning,” but none of them knew what that meant unless there were weird mushrooms involved. Meat didn’t go uneaten around them long enough for it to go bad.

Ace was tempted—he’d learned cooking meant snacking while they worked—but finally said when Kei went to retrieve her cleaver, “Do you have anything I can just take back to the others right now?” 

“The usual lunchboxes are in the cellar,” Kei told him, already getting back to work. She had big butcher’s gloves and everything. “Door’s open.” 

Ace left his pipe stuck in the turf as he headed into Kei’s little cabin. It was pretty bare, aside from cooking utensils and the kind of stuff even Dadan had—bed, storage trunk, and so on. She hadn’t even really decorated. Ace already knew from previous visits that Kei didn’t store treasure here or really anywhere, and so Ace pulled up the hatch and hopped down into the cellar without bothering to snoop. 

A minute later, Ace had dragged all of the lunchboxes—really medicine boxes with straps for carrying—out the front door. Between the ropes left at the front of the cabin and the length of his pipe, he tied all of them together in a huge stack and hauled them onto his back. The fact that the burden was bigger than he was didn’t slow him down for a second. He and Sabo had carried whole jungle beasts around for years, so the lunchboxes were barely noticeable. 

“Remind the others that dinner is at sunset,” Kei called as he left, still hammering away at the alligator’s tough ribs. “And tell Luffy that he needs to eat all the vegetables this time, or he might get scurvy.”

“…What’s scurvy?” 

“A disease that makes your eyeballs bleed and your teeth fall out.” 

Ace froze. 

Kei didn’t smile when she looked up, blood splattered across the front of her rubber apron. Her panda eyes were flat and serious. She even managed to hold that expression on her scarred face for a full five seconds, then shrugged and turned back to her work. “Anyway, have fun adventuring today.” 

Isobu’s high, croaky laughter chased Ace all the way down the mountain. 

This probably had something to do with the fact that the turtle rolled most of the way after him, but, regardless, there was still no way Ace would forget that lesson anytime soon. 

-

Unbeknownst to Ace, Kei spent the bulk of the afternoon after he left on a snail call. The eventual alligator stew components were cleaned, stored, and marinating in the largest vat of soy sauce she’d ever gotten her hands on, which gave her a little time to shore up one teensy little problem in her lesson plan. 

"This is Thatch's Pancake House! We slap ‘em, you stack ‘em! How can I take your order?" 

“It’s Kei,” she said, and waited for the sound of several pirates falling over to come to an eventual stop in the background. Before Thatch could yell at her for being out of contact, Kei said in a rush, “So, I offered to teach a bunch of kids how to use haki, except I don’t actually know how it works. How did you learn?” 

“THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE FINALLY CALLING FOR?!” demanded several people at once. Thatch was just the loudest of the kitchen crew.

“You what,” said someone else. Sounded a little like Teach, actually. Kei had never liked him much.

“I need to teach a bunch of kids how to use haki,” Kei repeated, with a little more impatience. 

“WHY?!”

“Because they’ll get themselves killed otherwise,” Kei said. “Again, a little help?” 

“You—ugh, I’m taking this snail to Pops.” Thatch sounded exasperated at best. “Stay on the line!” 

“Can do,” Kei chirped, and listened to several pirates on the other end crash to a halt at the sound of her voice using that tone. They were too far away to retaliate. 

“Quit sassing us and explain where you’ve been, you brat!”